There's No Place Like Home

Except Manhattan Beach...

Last weekend Dennis and I went out to LA to hang out with my dad and stepmom at the place they are staying for the month of August. Right on the beach, known as, "The Strand"...

We were listening to the waves crash on the sand all night because the beach and ocean were literally in our front yard. Not a bad way to spend a long weekend.

When I knew we were going, I decided to find a 5K to run while we were there. I figured there had to be a 5K somewhere close by in a city the size of LA. I was right, the Jet to Jetty 5K/10K was happening just north of where we were staying, within warmup running distance.

Dennis being freshly out of his boot from his toe fracture, he was unable to run but rode the bike up there to watch. He could have slept in that morning, but he was a good sport about it. We went up the Strand and the bike path, about 4 miles, until we came to Dockweiler State Beach, which is west of LAX. All the jets fly right overhead.

I was my usual self, a total dork before the race, in my Walmart tank top, greasing up my armpits with Aquaphor so I wouldn't chafe.

Dennis was wearing his Badwater t-shirt and this guy in a yellow turban went up to him and asked him if he ran the race. He pointed at me, "No, but SHE did." Turned out the guy in the turban was Gabriel Flores, who won the Badwater race in 1998 and was featured in the documentary Running on the Sun. That made my day! Gabriel was running the 5K with his son. We talked Badwater for a little while as we were lining up at the start.

Running a 5K in LA is really different. First, there are A LOT of people, second, they actually have certified courses, third, they have hardware in 5 year age groups, and fourth, they have signs at the starting area that tell you to line up according to your pace: 6, 7, 8, 9, or whatever minute miles you run, fifth, they have chip timing...not to mention the nice gray cloudy sky that keeps the sun from being intense first thing in the morning, and the humidity and ocean breezes.

I lined up about where I thought would be right, a few fit-looking men around my age, not many kids, and probably a dozen or so women visible ahead of me. I was right there in front of the 7 minute per mile pace sign. I had no idea how I'd feel at sea level and I didn't want to risk going out too fast but I knew I should be able to better my 7 and a half minute pace I've been doing lately.

The gun went off and within a half mile I realized I felt good and wasn't having trouble with my starting pace. Before we hit the one mile mark we turned around in a U-turn and it freaked me out to see less than 10 women ahead of me. Then I got scared. Oh shit, what if I went out in a 6 minute mile? Fortunately when we hit the one mile mark I was at 6:42. I knew that was fast but it didn't feel bad.

I purposely backed off the pace a little bit in that middle mile, hoping I'd be able to run the last mile hard. I hit the two mile mark in 13:50, which was better than I expected but still feeling comfortable. Then it was time to pick it up. The last mile was straight on the road and a slight downhill grade for about a quarter mile of it. I passed several women in the last mile.

I actually had enough leg turnover that I was able to hold one of them off and gain on her, then pass her going into the finish area. When I hit the finish line I was at 21:38, which sort of blew me away. I really didn't expect to run that fast even at sea level. That's about a 6:57 per mile average pace, whch surprised me.

But I know I can run much faster than that if I do speedwork. So I'm really not overly surprised. Just happy. I ended up with hardware, was 4th overall woman, won my age group, but the kicker was, there was a woman who beat me by 13 seconds, and she was 56 years old! I got SHARPEI'D!!! But that's a good thing, there's hope for aging chicks.

I got about 21 miles of running in that day between the 5K and some extra running I did afterwards. The rest of the weekend we spent on the beach, drinking margaritas, eating, and just hanging out. It was relaxing, and perfect, and I hope that next year we can go back again and spend even longer. And if we're there for that 5K again, I'm training for it!

On the way back I was reminded of Tank Girl, anyone remember that movie from the mid-90s where she takes on the evil Water and Power and tries to save the world? I was feeling very tank girl-like after my 5K and long run with all that oxygen!

When we came home Iris and Isabelle wouldn't let me out of their sight, not even to take a shower. Manhattan Beach was awesome, but what was missing were the Buffaloes, and it's so great to be home when someone is so happy to see you!

Last week I got over 60 miles of running in, including a tempo run and a 5K, with two 20ish mile days. That feels more like what I should be doing at this point in my training for Across the Years. Only 2 months until Oklahoma City, and I have plans for at least another 5K, a 10K, and a half marathon before then.

This is fun!

So then the other thing that happened is that I worked today and it was a zoo in town, a good day to be locked away in the hospital. We had a visit from President Obama and traffic was a nightmare due to security. A lot of our patients ended up being late for their appointments because they couldn't get around town!

Fort Collins is not used to Presidential visits, this was our first one. That was pretty obvious from the way the traffic was routed. I think we need more practice. Obama came here before the election in 2008 and he was a rock star then, but he wasn't President yet, so the whole security thing was nowhere near as intense.

So, I hope I won't have a work hangover tomorrow, having only worked one day since we got back. Tomorrow is tempo day again, already. It's supposed to be in the mid 90s again. September is just around the corner. Maybe one of these days it won't be summer anymore.

Or maybe I could win the lottery and buy some prime real estate on The Strand in Manhattan Beach become one of the beautiful people (plastic surgery is the only thing that would do that for me), and run away with Dennis and the Buffaloes. Then summer would be perfect, ocean breezes, surfing, swimming, running 5Ks...and monkeys might fly out of my butt!

I guess I'll stay in Fort Collins. There's no place like home...

Go, Granny, Go!

I almost hit 20 miles today in two runs. According to my calculations, I got 19.56 miles in. No I don't have a Garmin. I'm not that technologically advanced and I hate carrying those big clunky things on my wrists. I map my runs with aerial photos on google maps on Map My Run. And no, I'm not obsessive enough to go back out and do another 0.44 miles to make it an even 20. Food was calling my name.

I did a shorter, slower than usual tempo run with Shannon tonight, we did about 8.7 miles together at a little under 8:40 pace. He is tired, he's recovering from pacing his friend Chris in his first 100 miler at Leadville last weekend, which turned out to be one of those runs where you get your money's worth out of the entry fee. As Shannon was describing the pacing experience at Leadville it was taking me back to my own first 100 mile experience at Leadville 20 years ago.

Chris finished in 29 hours and change, and I can relate to his pain and the feeling that it will never end. All four of my Leadville finishes were between 29:20 and 29:40 no matter what I did. Finally I retired from high altitude, moved on to lower elevation 100s. But congratulations to Chris because Leadville is tough first time 100 to do. And he stuck it out despite all his troubles and sleep deprivation.

So tomorrow we're headed to Manhattan Beach and I'm running a 5K on Saturday, the Jet to Jetty 5K at Vista Del Mar. The 5K training for 48 hours continues. I did have a decent workout of 800s earlier this week where I was consistent at 6:30-6:40 pace. I need to keep working on it. I'll have to see what sea level feels like this weekend and if it helps me run a little faster than my 23 minute 5Ks of late.

I do have some animal print stuff to wear, including an old animal print swimsuit that I looked much better in at age 35. Sorry to disappoint everyone but I won't be a Bo Derek at the beach.

Giving myself as much credit as possible, I might be a 6.5 on a good day when I'm not bloated from something I ate. And I don't think Bo Derek had a menopausal belly, sagging boobs, wrinkly thighs, or gray hair. And I don't have gray corn rows either.

I'll be more like the little old lady from Pasadena, taking my old body out for an occasional spin in an attempt to terrorize, sharpei, and chick the guys. (I included this video and then realized that there is a stupid baseless political ad at the beginning. Sorry. It offended me, so I put it on mute until the ad was over.)


The Little Old Lady From Pasadena by sirnarnian

BIG, BAD & SUPERHOT!

Badwater runners, CREW and anyone else planning on being in Death Valley this summer for the Badwater Ultramarathon, if you haven't started your heat training by now, that should be a BIG priority.

Don't wait any longer. The race is only 2 months away and this year is shaping up to be a hot one...

Last year in May and June I went down to Arizona to do some heat training in the desert and the temperature was only into the 90s in May and barely cracked 100 in June. This year, it's already been 112 in Death Valley, and it's only mid-May.

I'm not only referring to the runners here, I'm talking about the equally important CREW. Runners need to be diligent about heat training, but they usually do their homework. It's the crews who have often been less prepared for the conditions.

A Hot Year

In 2003 I crewed and paced for my friend Ken Eielson. That was the year it was 133 degrees. I also crewed for Josh Miller in 2002, when it was was 127 degrees. I remember how intense the heat was, and yes, there really is a difference between 115, 120, and 130. Those two years I was living in the Arizona desert and one of the things I did to prepare myself was a 30 mile run on a 117 degree day in Phoenix, where I stayed overdressed most of the day.

I didn't have access to a sauna back then, but I'd park my car in the driveway, roll the windows up tight, and sit there baking for up to an hour with a magazine, a good supply of ice water and electrolyte replacement. My neighbors thought I was nuts, and it was uncomfortable, but I paced Ken the whole way from Furnace Creek to Stovepipe Wells that year and I had no problems with the heat.

Sauna training, overdressing and running in the heat, cranking up the heater in your car, attaching a hose to your clothes dryer and a hot suit and running on a treadmill, or whatever contraptions you use to prepare for the heat, make sure you're doing plenty of it.

Crew Preparation

I can't emphasize enough to runners that they insist their crews be prepared for the heat. Crews are the ones who tend to be less heat-trained, even if they are endurance athletes themselves.

Being in a hot car and staying busy tending to the runners needs makes it easy to neglect your own needs as a crew member- staying hydrated, cooling down, getting out of the sun, eating enough, getting enough electrolyte replacement.

Crews, you have to be on top of things in the extreme heat for your runner's sake. To function well under such intense conditions you are going to have to take of yourselves. Not only do you need a plan for the runner, but you need an equally important crew plan. You won't be running the A/C in your vehicles, so you'll be exposed, too. Inside a vehicle is hotter than outdoor air.

If it's your first time, if you can get out there to experience that kind of heat before the race, along with any or all of your crew, it would be a good reality check. Everyone on the crew should be doing some kind of heat training. Especialy if they aren't normally exposed to hot conditions. Even people who live in warm climates can easily be overpowered by the intensity of a 130 degree day.

If a crew member is new to intense heat and hasn't experienced anything like Badwater conditions, it's a good idea that they check with their own physician before jumping into a heat training program or just showing up in Death Valley in mid-July. If you have some undetected medical condition, it could become a serious, even life-threatening problem out there. I can't emphasize this enough. Don't assume that being a healthy, active person, or even a well-conditioned runner, under normal conditions, qualifies you to physically tolerate 130 degree heat.

Crew Supplies

Crew supplies include sunscreen, hats, clothing to protect them from the sun like those Sun Precautions suits, ice bandanas, towels for covering up hot vinyl like steering wheels, seats, and other items that heat up in the vehicle, towels for placing over the body with ice and ice water, enough ice for the crew to use for themselves, enough electrolyte replacement, water, and drinks for crew members, cotton gloves for touching hot metal on the outside of the vehicle, shadescreens for the windshield when the vehicle is parked for a period of time.

You'll need sunscreen, hand wipes and ways to keep the sunscreen from getting into the runner's drinks and drinkable ice, be careful keeping any food that could spoil. I advise avoiding thing that spoil altogether- certain fruits such as melons, anything with mayonnaise in it, anything with a short shelf life or that needs constant refrigeration under normal coonditions. At least one person on each crew or crew shift should be taking extra care of the crew, making sure everyone is getting adequate fluids and breaks from the heat.

Be Prepared for The Worst: A Backup Plan

You need a backup plan in case something happens. What if Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells, or Panamint Springs run out of ice? Where will you go? Lone Pine, Beatty, Pahrump? A backup plan includes a cooler large enough and enough extra ice that in an emergency, everything could be dumped out and the person can be cooled down in it. Have an emergency plan of what to do if someone does get sick. Plan for the worst, and keep the evil spirits away!

Knowledge is Power

For information on heat illness and how to prevent it, the Badwater website has great information. Check out all of those articles on heat training. Read every single one.

Everyone is going to suffer some degree of heat discomfort out there. The key is to stay on top of it, get ahead of it before it becomes serious heat illness, and know when your body is starting to heat up. It's time to cool down before you get uncomfortable, don't wait until you feel really bad. See my post on "Lessons Learned" about my cooldown breaks.

Stay Away From Me!

I'm looking forward to being on the medical team again this year and as much as I love seeing the runners and their crews at Badwater, I'd rather pass you on the road seeing you moving forward, smiling, or giving a thumbs-up. Other than that, I don't want to see you until the post-race party.

With just two months to go, it's enough time that you can adequately prepare for the heat. But don't wait any longer. Even if you follow a formal training plan such as Art Webb's excellent sauna training program that lasts 4 weeks leading up to the race, some extra preparation is a smart idea this year.

Be safe, and make your Death Valley experience a successful and enjoyable one.

photo credits: Nathan Nitzky

Badwater 2008: A Blistering Pace, Part Four: Post-Race

After the race, we were staying at one of the "other" motels in Lone Pine. Steph had tried to get rooms at the Dow Villa, where race headquarters was, but they were already sold out by the time she tried to make reservations, which was the same day I got confirmation of my entry back in February! The room in this other motel wasn't great. We did have a tub with whirlpool jets in it, but other than that, the sink didn't drain, there were ants in the room, the coffee maker was weird, and the doors stuck so that everytime someone in another room opened or closed their door, it would make a horrible squeaking noise followed by a loud SLAM! Our door did that too.

We went to the post-race pizza party from the Pizza Factory in Lone Pine. Never has pizza tasted so good! It was an opportunity to thank people who helped along the way, like Don Meyer, Gillian, John Vonhof, Ben & Denise, and to see everyone one last time before we all went our separate ways. Until next year.





I need to say some things about the crew. They went far beyond my expectations and a Badwater race does not happen without a crew. The runner needs a crew to help them through challenging, dangerous conditions. The crew helps the runner along by anticipating their needs, being aware of issues like blisters or dehydration before they develop into serious problems, and does everything in their power to keep the runner from having delays along the way that might impact their performance and ability to finish or reach a pre-set time goal.

from left: Katy, Nick, Steph, Ken, Alene



My crew did all of that and more. They were so efficient, I never lost a second through the whole race due to the crew. All of our crew stops were moving, and the only things I stopped for, other than the blister care, were for sunscreen, peeing, sleeping, and just a few short, pre-planned breaks to get out of the sun and off my feet.

Nick paced me the last 45 miles of the course along with a few other short stretches the first day. He kept a conversation going only when I wanted to, he anticipated my fluid, food, and sleep needs, and was able to allow me to go into my "zone" to escape the pain I was having. He kept track of my progress without pushing me. I didn't need to be motivated by anything outside of myself, and he recognized and respected this. All he did was encourage me and answer my quetions when I asked.

Katy paced me on the long hot tough climb out of Stovepipe Wells to the top of Townes Pass and talked with me when I wanted to talk. She was super-efficient at crewing, and she sensed my needs and always was ready for me. Her energy was so good to be around. It's not always easy to find people you can be with while you're trying to concentrate and perform at your best, who don't drain your energy. Katy was perfect for me, she was there only to help. She didn't place any demands on the energy I needed to use to focus on moving forward. And on the final climb up Whitney Portal, she was the one person guiding the crew, she kept us going when we were all so exhausted. She was exhausted too, but she got us there. She got me there, powered by red jello.

Steph was the ultimate crew boss, she took charge of the planning and organization and made sure I had all the details in order, all the paperwork, she made travel arrangements and knew what had to happen and when. She handled tense situations tactfully and knew how to divide the workload and rest periods among the crew members. She had the toughest job with the most responsibility, and she saw it through to our success. She's been with me since I first brought up the topic of Badwater, last December on our way down to Across the Years. She's still working on Badwater now, sending pictures, sorting through receipts, and compiling ideas that we'll talk about sometime soon, on ways to improve on the Badwater experience.

Ken made me laugh with his crazy comments on the state of the universe, he made countless runs for supplies along the course, he paced me in the heat of the first day when my spirits were at their lowest point. He drove almost 800 miles on the way home when my feet were so swollen and painful, all I could do was put them up on the dashboard in between icing them in the cooler. He made sure I was hydrating and eating on the way out to the race and back. He took hundreds of great pictures too.

I can't thank the crew enough for their efforts and dedication to our success. It is organized chaos, it's exhausting, sometimes thankless, and relentless beyond the finish line. They get hungry and sleep-deprived and have to somehow remember to take care of themselves. The crew continues their work even after the runner has crossed the finish line, cleaning the van, organizing the gear, and finding the owner of every piece of equipment and clothing in the crew's possession.


Nick took off Thursday morning as he had to pick up Dana at the airport in Denver. Katy climbed Mt. Whitney on Thursday with Ed Green, Dale Perry and a few guys from Florida on Bob's crew. Like me, Bob decided not to do Whitney, he was too beat up.

Steph and I used Thursday as a recovery day, we did some laundry to keep things from really getting nasty on the trip home, straightened my car, and finished separating everyone's gear to go home in the proper vehicles. I iced my feet and elevated them, making notes and writing down everything I could remember from the race. I was still pretty out of it but feeling generally good. I'll be glowing for a long time over this one.

After Katy got back we ordered pizza from the Pizza Factory again and then we sat around relaxing and went to bed early.



Early Friday morning we were carrying the last of our bags out of the rooms before we checked out. I picked up my last bag and I jumped and let out a little scream. This was what I found, exactly where if I had not placed my bags down there, at the foot of the bed, I would have stepped on it...


Ken heard me and came into the room. He put a plastic cup over the scorpion, trapping it. We left it that way. When I went to the front desk, after I paid the bill, I whispered to the clerk, cupping my hands over the sides of my mouth but mouthing my words clearly, for the dramatic effect... "By the way, there's a scorpion in our room. It's under a cup on the floor. You might want to let housekeeping know about it."

Needless to say, I'll pick a different motel next time.

Going Home
Steph and Katy left in the rental van to catch their flight from Las Vegas to Denver. Nick drove home in his car and took the new cooler plus some of my other gear which made it a lot more comfortable for us driving home in my car. At least we could adjust the seats. Ken and I drove back from Lone Pine to Green River the first day and then to Glenwood Saturday morning. Ken did all the driving until we arrived at Glenwood so I could keep my feet on ice in the small cooler between my feet. I dropped him off and drove the rest of the way home to Fort Collins and got home by mid-afternoon Saturday

The girls greeted me with their big Australian Shepherd smiles and howls. Iris threw herself at me, screaming, giving me a big hug, and Isabelle ran around in circles, stopping to lick my face on every lap. Dennis was at work for a few hours. He left me a note to call him. I called and he said he was coming home.

I spent most of Sunday sorting through gear, unpacking, and doing laundry. I finally cleared a path to the front door around noon. Then Dennis and I decided to go out to the Rio for lunch and a margarita. After that we came home and I've been blogging ever since.

Everyone on the crew made it home safely. I'm going to pick up my gear from Nick tomorrow.

I'm going to make a separate post later to discuss the things that went well, the things I would change, and what I learned in general from my first Badwater. For now, I'll wrap up with a couple of comments. I'm sure my thoughts will evolve over the next few days, weeks, and months.

I need to figure out my next race, but my legs and feet have some healing to do first. Once my feet go down to their normal size, I'll be able to put my cleats on and go for bike rides. For now, I am starting to move out of the ravenous phase where I want to eat everything in sight.

I found out that the temperature in Death Valley on the two days of the race was only 114 and 119. That's cool as most race years go. It was humid, and I think the temperature in the hottest part of the course was closer to 120 in the middle of the day. The cooler temperatures certainly made for fast times. Both the men's and women's course records were broken. Most of the field finished, and almost everyone buckled. I don't think the cooler temperatures worked to my advantage, since I rely on my strong walking pace. Under hotter conditions, I think I would have finished a lot higher in the overall places. But that doesn't matter. I took what the course gave me, I dealt with it, and I learned so much. I know I am capable of running much faster, certainly under 40 hours is within reach. I think this year I would have been capable of that had I not spent so much time off the course and being unable to run the second day as I'd planned.

That gives me a goal for next time. Everyone wants to know if I'll do it again, and the answer is ABSOLUTELY YES! I won't be able to afford to go back and race next year, but I'm going to start saving right away and I think that in two years I can pull it off. Next year I won't be able to stay away though, so I'm looking into the possibility of helping with the race, either on the race staff or crewing for someone else again. This race has given me so much, I want to give something back to it. Great ultras are like that, they become part of you, and you become part of the race. I feel this way about Across the Years, too. It's like a family.

Check back in the coming weeks. I'll be posting a lot of material related to crewing and planning for this event, what I learned, and what I think will work better next time. I'll be telling my story, times and places TBA here on the blog. I'm hoping to raise more funds for the Cancer Care Fund, too. I'll keep it going for future races, not just Badwater.

I want to thank everyone reading this for their support and enthusiasm.


BE BAD!

Badwater 2008: A Blistering Pace, Part Three: Day Two

Panamint to Darwin
Nick and Katy took a break at Panamint, and Steph and Ken took over. I blasted through the climb up to Father Crowley point at 80 miles in just two and a half hours. The views back to the lake bed are amazing, the morning light was shining on the rocks and backlighting the little salt bush-like plants in glowing lavender. I leapfrogged with Phil Rosenstein, a runner I know from Across the Years who lives back east. We talked for a while. He caught up to me later at Darwin and went on for a strong finish.




This section of the course, from about 72 to 84 miles, was the most enjoyable of the whole race for me. I felt fantastic, I was having all kinds of pleasant thoughts, enjoying the scenery, listening to my music, getting lost in the views and the colors around me. I thought about the people who have been so supportive of my journey and started feeling their energy coming to me.


At one point these two guys on the race staff passed by me in their car and yelled "YOU'RE MY HERO!" which gave me another boost. After the road flattened out at about 80 miles, Steph joined me for a while, until where we got to the park boundary at about 85 miles. I had my MP3 playing the milkshake song and I was singing it to Steph and we were giggling our heads off. She had about as much sleep as I did by that point, maybe less, so we were both goofy.


As I got off the climb and started the flat stretch to the 90 mile mark at Darwin, I could feel my feet starting to hurt. Under the ball of my left foot it was really bad and I was having to alter my stride to keep moving. I kept trying to focus on my tunes and moving forward to keep from thinking about the pain, but I knew I was going to have to stop in Darwin and take a careful look at my feet. There was no way I was going to be able to keep moving at that pace another 50 miles unless I did something.


Later on Woofie drove by in the race Medic vehicle and waved at me. I used to run with Woofie when I lived in Arizona. He lives in Scottsdale and we used to run in McDowell Mountain park together, among other runs. He's been working as a member of the medical team on the Badwater race staff for a few years now. I got a big burst of energy after seeing him.


It reassured me to see the race staff and medical staff patrolling the course. Chris has done a great job of building up the race staff to make things safer for the runners and the crews out on the course.


Just past the Death Valley National Park boundary this tourist suddenly decided to pull off the highway, with his car halfway in the road. He stopped about 20 yards in front of me and I was in so much pain, there was no way I was going to move over onto the gravel. I kept moving at my "walk like you're possessed" pace and headed right for him.

It was a stare-down, a standoff between TOWANDA! Queen of the Universe! and Joe Tourist. He looked at me like he wasn't sure what I was going to do, if I was an axe-murderer or an alien from a docked spaceship. I kept moving forward, my eyes fixed on the white line ahead of me. I was headed straight for the middle of his car, as if the white line continued up the hood and over the windshield.

Finally I won. He pulled his car over out of my way, with an annoyed look on his face as if it was some kind of strenuous effort. I didn't say a thing, just kept moving in a straight line following the white stripe as if he'd never been there. Surely the guy had seen dozens of other runners dressed just like me for miles along the highway, all proceeding in the shoulder facing traffic. This idiot couldn't even pull all the way off the road, he had his car straddling the white line and was going to get rear-ended by the next car if he didn't move.

Pretty soon I saw Josh, the giant joshua tree at 89 miles, and then I could see the tip of the white timing tent at Darwin, and the cars coming down the Darwin road to the intersection with highway 190. I arrived at the Darwin time station at noon! Awesome timing! I decided to take a long break and deal with my feet.


I sat down on a chair under the tent and started to take my shoes and socks off. The crew brought me a drink, some food, and started heating some soup for me.






They brought me the foot box, and I hadn't been there 5 minutes when Gillian and Don (the Zombies) drove up in their Zombie mobile. They were cruising the course doing foot care, and I was in luck. Gillian came over and got her foot box out. She asked me what the problem was and I described it to her.


She saw the big blisters on my heels which were not a big deal, I just needed to drain those and that problem was solved. The big problem was under the ball of my left foot, which was excruciatingly painful.


Gillian looked at it and tried to drain the blisters she could see. The problem was, I have thick calluses under my foot. That foot has always had more problems than the right one. I had bunion surgery on that foot and it moves differently, I have built up thick calluses on the sole between my metatarsal areas, and I had developed some deep blisters underneath.


Gillian told me she was going to get out the scalpel and try to poke holes in the deep blister to get them to drain. I couldn't argue, I knew I was going to have to endure it, and I knew it would help. It HAD to. My left hamstring and the area behind my knee and upper calf were hurting because of the way I'd been changing my gait since my foot was so sore.


I have super sensitive feet, even under normal circumstances. I can hardly stand to have anyone else touch them. I scream and squirm when Dennis massages them at home. I had to look away and clench my teeth while Gillian worked her magic.

She poked holes in the blister and very little fluid came out. She told me that was all she could do, and then she retaped my foot. She put some compeed pads underneath the bad areas and that helped a lot the rest of the way. I didn't have any trouble with my heels after that point. I had to pee and she took a break while the crew helped me to the other side of the van so I could go...we were laughing hysterically while Nick and Steph practically carried me to a spot behind the van. Ken said, "It's like being at work with your patients!"



...then they brought me back to the chair so Gillian could look at my other foot.

We tried my size 8 shoes after she got done. My feet were pretty swollen and very heat-rashed. I spent an hour and a half of the course at Darwin while getting my feet worked on, but it was well worth it. I was still way ahead of schedule and on tack for the sub-48 hour finish as I left for Lone Pine. It was starting to rain as we left so Nick and I got our raingear on and headed down the road. It was somewhere around this time that I found out that the original course had been cleared for the race, so we were headed to Whitney Portal!











Darwin to Lone Pine
Less than a mile down the road I realized that the size 8 shoes weren't helping. They were making things worse, because my feet were flopping around and causing more friction and more pain. First I tried putting the size 7 back on my right foot, and then I had to stop again and put the size 7 back on my left foot, which was still painful. It helped to get back in my smaller shoes but every time I stopped it was agonizing until I could re-establish the stride and block out the pain. I started dreading anything I had to stop for, like peeing.

Around 92 miles I finally got back into a rhythm and I kept picking up the walking pace. Nick was with me and Katy was driving and crewing. Steph and Ken went into Lone Pine to rest and get us ready for the next section. I had been unable to run at all beause of the pain, which was worse going downhill, even though I had planned to run much of the section from Darwin to Lone Pine. I was still staying on a good walking pace and had plenty of time cushion to make it under 48 hours, so I wasn't concerned. I was worried about my foot though, because after one mile where I walked about a 14 minute pace, I felt my foot start to throb again.

I tried to block out the pain again with music, and I asked Nick if he would interact with Katy for my food and drink needs so I could just stay focused on moving forward. I needed to keep my mind off the pain. Around 95 miles I heard this weird ringing noise. Both Nick and I jumped, we were startled. It was his cell phone. We didn't expect to have cell phone reception until much closer to Lone Pine, but we hit an area that was pretty wide open and it was there. It turned out to be a wrong number, but I asked Nick if I could call Dennis. He dialed for me, and I couldn't get through to him at work the first time. I called the house and left a voice mail, and then asked Nick to try his work phone again. The phone rang and Dennis picked up!

I told him I was at 96 miles and things were going well, that I was on track for sub 48 hours, but I didn't mention any of the foot problems. He told me that people had been asking about me all day at work, and they wished me well. We talked a bit more and we were headed toward some rocks, so we finished our conversation before the call could drop. Soon after that I asked Nick if the phone was still working. I asked if I could make another call. I asked him to dial my work number, I wanted to let my coworkers know how things were going, since so many of them have been so supportive of my training.

The phone rang and Lydia answered. I said, "Lydia! It's Alene! I'm at 96 miles!" She talked with me and then transferred me into the other room, where our manager and some of the other nurses were having a meeting. They passed the phone around and I talked to several people. I told them to tell Sandy the night charge nurse that I wasn't in rhabdo and my kidneys were working great...she was so concerned about me doing this race, before I left I promised I would let her know I was okay.

That was a big boost too, and it helped me to keep my mind off of my feet. Soon after I hung up from calling work, I started to feel it again, and it was getting worse. I told Nick the only thing I could think of was trying to get a hold of Denise, since we were headed toward Lone Pine maybe she would be there. Denise Jones (married to Ben) is a multiple Badwater finisher and is known as the "Blister Queen" for her foot care expertise. She was going to be available during the race along with John Vonhof, another veteran ultrarunner who literally wrote the book on Fixing Your Feet.

The crew didn't waste any time. Katy took Nick's cell phone and drove ahead to where she could get the phone to work again and called Ken in Lone Pine. Ken called race headquarters to find out if Denise was around. Somehow he got a hold of Don Meyer, who is a another runner we know from Across the Years and who was working on the Badwater race staff, and he contacted Denise. Ken called us back within minutes and said to stake out and head into Lone Pine to race headquarters, that Denise would be on her way.



We staked just past the 100 mile mark and they drove me into town. It was 5:00 when we put the stake in, and I took a little 10 minute nap on the way into race headquarters. I kept my feet up and used it as an opportunity to rest. They dropped me off and Steph and Ken met us there, they helped me into the medical room at the Dow Villa, and I saw Woofie and Lisa Bliss, both of whom reassured me that it's only blisters, we can take care of that.

I sat on the bed and took my shoes and socks off, and waited for Denise. I chatted with Woofie for a while, which was good, it distracted me from thinking about the time. Woofie asked me how it was going, and I answered, "I finally figured out what it means to run at a blistering pace." Denise showed up shortly after that and had her giant foot box. She started checking out my feet as I squirmed. She told me the same thing Gillian said, that I had big deep blisters underneath the calluses, and that she would have to drain them. Again, I didn't care, I just wanted to get back on the road.

She started to work on my feet and then John Vonhof came in with his foot care kit. He had the scalpel, and Denise told him she felt better about having him cut holes in my feet, so he sat down and went to work. It didn't hurt except when they put pressure on the tender areas. I couldn't see what they were doing, but the crew was there and watching. They said it was pretty spectacular watching him drain those big deep blisters.

Finally he re-taped my feet and used a special kind of bandage between my toes to help the blisters drain as I put pressure on my foot when stepping down and forward. I thanked Denise and John and the medical people, put my shoes and socks back on and the crew helped me limp back to the van, and we took off back to the 100 mile point.

On the way back I tried sleeping but couldn't. We reached the stake at exactly 7:00, we'd been off the course for two hours, which made a total of three and a half hours off the course for foot care. I knew it was necessary in order to preserve my race, but mentally it was a blow. I needed to re-group and as Nick and I started out again, we started to crunch some numbers.


I started out with extreme difficulty, I was stiff and slow and the pain in my foot wasn't too much better. It was improved, and within a few miles I could feel the blisters starting to drain just like John said they would. It was a weird, burning, squishy feeling in my shoe, between my toes. Every footstrike still caused a sharp, burning sensation in the ball of my foot. Nick calculated that we could still make it in under 48 but it only left us an hour of sleep time and not much wiggle room other than that. We'd have to continue at a good pace.

In my head I was thinking, it will be okay as long as I don't have to take time out for another blister. And I knew I was still going to finish, even if every step of the last 35 miles was agonizing. Somewhere in the back of my head there was this nagging little thought that I had plenty of time, even if I didn't make the 48 hour cutoff for the buckle, I would make the 60 hours easily. I was remembering Anita's words that she told me during the Wyoming Double. She said, "Shit happens out there, and it will happen. You have 60 hours to finish, that's plenty of time."

And then I completely erased that thought from my mind and replaced it with my own thought, I am going to get that buckle, even if I am in excruciating pain for every step of the next 35 miles. Shit happens, and you find a way to deal with it, and get back to the business of reaching your goal.

I was accepting the pain. Just like accepting the heat during that first day across Death Valley, now I had to accept the pain.


We settled into a 17 minute per mile walking pace. I didn't even dare try running, we were still going downhill and I didn't want to aggravate my screaming foot any more. I tried my strategy again of tuning into my music and having Nick interact with the crew. I was eating jello and baby food and I knew my caloric intake hadn't been great but I was eating something, getting some calories in, and staying hydrated. The worst part was having to pee, because I'd have to stop and then start the pain all over again as I worked back into my rhythm. We stayed on a pace that allowed me to put minutes in the bank toward a cushion I'd need heading up the Portal Road.


As it got dark the second night, we were headed toward Keeler, and I was starting to weave. It was time for a nap. I knew I only had an hour so I pushed it as far as I could, until I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. Steph and Ken were crewing and driving, Nick was pacing me, and Katy had stayed in Lone Pine, she was resting, as Steph put it, "We need SOMEONE to have a brain in the morning on the way to the finish line!"


Steph and Ken drove ahead and found a safe spot to put the pads down for me to sleep by the road. I kept seeing things in the dark. There were crickets all over the road. I could hear them, I knew they were crickets, but for some reason my brain wanted me to think they were scorpions. I also kept seeing things in the shadows of the vegetation on the side of the road when the wind blew.

We stopped just past Keeler and I slept hard for 40 minutes, then woke up suddenly. I wanted to brush my teeth, put some drops in my contact lenses, and get going again.


We hit the road exactly one hour after I stopped. It rained on us for about 5 minutes right after we started. By the time Ken & Steph found the rain gear, it stopped. The sky was cloudy but we could see the nearly full moon high in the sky. We could also see the red taillights of the cars zigzagging their way up the switchbacks of the Whitney Portal road in the distance. Nick was calculating the pace again, and he wasn't telling me, but I'd been gradually building up a little cushion of time.

At some point past Keeler, I was concentrating on how bad I wanted that belt buckle, and I asked Nick to shine his light on my ears and tell me if my smiley faces were smiling. He laughed at me, "You're not superstitious at all, are you?" He told me how to adjust the smiley faces so they were upright. Then I was good.

We made the turn into Lone Pine and it amazed me how many big trucks were going by on the highway in the middle of the night. We passed Scott Weber on the road in Lone Pine, he looked strong, and we talked for a minute and I went on. Nick and I made the turn onto the Whitney Portal Road at 2:46 am. My feet were still throbbing but I had reached a point that Ken describes as "being one with the pain".

Lone Pine to Portal
The minute we turned onto the Portal Road off the smooth asphalt of Highway 395 I realized I was in for a rough finish. The concrete mix they used to pave the road is great for keeping the road intact under bad winter conditions, but it has all kinds of little rocks and bumps in it, and the unevenness was causing the pain in my feet to flare up worse than ever.

A block off the highway I saw something move on the side of the road and I aimed my headlamp at it. It was a baby skunk! I pulled Nick away, toward the center of the road. He asked me what was wrong and I told him, there's a skunk. He started moving TOWARD it! I said, no, come over here! I can imagine us going all this way and then getting skunked 13 miles from the finish. As if the Portal Road isn't bad enough.

And it was bad enough, and worse. The one part of the course that I have never run on before is the Portal Road. I've been up and down it twice in a car, and I should have paid more attention when I was out there in June with Nathan and Ben, but I didn't.

I forgot. It is a relentless, steep, 13 mile climb that gains nearly 5000 feet and does not give you a break, at all. I was afraid that my pace would slow, but Nick was calculating. He had a copy of the landmarks and mileage along the Badwater course and in the dark by the light of his headlamp, he was figuring out my pace, which stayed at 17 minute miles even on the steepest grades. In my head I was going to get that buckle.

I was trying to place my feet on the ground as carefully as possible, when I could see a crack or bump in the road surface, I'd avoid it. It was getting easier to see and I turned off my headlamp.

At 127 miles I was distracted by something and I stepped on a crack in the asphalt and suddenly I felt this intense, sharp, stabbing pain in my foot. I screamed and Nick asked what was wrong. It took me a few seconds before I could talk. It felt like one of the deep blisters under my foot had popped. There was blood soaking through my shoe, which I didn't see until after I finished, but everyone else did. No one said anything.


It took me a few minutes to recover from the most intense pain but I hadn't stopped, I just slowed down while I was blowing out the pain. I told Nick, you must think I'm the biggest whiner. I was giving this little moan with every step, but it helped.

I was getting goofy and my blood sugar was dropping, I needed to keep eating, and Katy recognized this. She started pushing me to eat. All I would ask for was jello and baby food. We were down to only red jello. My mouth and tongue and lips were bright red when the sun came up.


As the sky gradually got lighter we could see the "Z" switchback ahead of us at 130 miles. The road was impossibly steep. I wanted to look back at the view back toward Darwin over the Alabama Hills, where they shot all the old Western movies, but I couldn't disrupt my stride without excruciating pain and losing my pace.


I had to pee but I was going to hold it as long as I could, I didn't dare stop. It was taking forever to get to the Z. Nick told me, we're going to shoot for under 47 hours. That was when I realized I had it in the bag. I had built up a solid hour of cushion, as long as I stayed on pace, I was on track to finish in just about 47 hours. I didn't care about the 46. I just wanted to keep moving and let the time take care of itself. If I did, I did. If I didn't make it under 47, it was okay.


No one passed me the whole time going up the hill. At one point, one of the runners who had just finished was coming down the road in their crew vehicle and hung their finisher's medal out the window and yelled "Go GET IT!" That got me charged up.


Once we got to the switchbacks, it seemed like each one took forever, but they really didn't take that long. Once we turned the corner, I knew it was time to start looking for the "one mile to go" sign. It wasn't there, but I knew the Whitney Portal campground was it. I kept moving and the crew drove on ahead. I wanted to finish in my Poudre Valley Health Foundation t-shirt and I changed into it. I took off all my night gear and handed it to the crew before they drove ahead to find a place to park and run to the finish line with me.

The road kept curving around and I kept looking for the big trees, the ones that mark the finish line, but there were so many big tall trees I couldn't tell. Finally I heard the people and started seeing other crew vehicles parked and I saw Ben up there with his camera, and the finish line ahead. Everyone was cheering for me, I started to run, and I crossed the finish line tape and kissed the tree. 7:04 a.m.

You can see me crossing the finish line and more pictures from the webcast at these links: finish line, Alene & Chris Kostman, Team Towanda



All I could say was, "My feet hurt", but I was smiling with my red jello lips and I remember sticking out my red jello tongue. I just ran 135 miles on jello, baby food, and 90 minutes of sleep. I can be as goofy as I want to be.



My official time was 47 hours and 4 minutes. I hugged Chris, the race director, and he put my finisher's medal around my neck and gave me my buckle. We did some photographs of me, me with Chris, and me with the crew, and we didn't hang around too long as it was cool and cloudy and I didn't want to get chilled.












On the way down, we saw Denise Jones and stopped to thank her. I was so grateful for her attention to my feet, I don't know what I would have done without the help of Denise, John, and Gillian along the way.


We went back to the motel in Lone Pine and the crew had to help me walk into the room after getting out of the van, I was so stiff and my feet hurt so much. It was there I noticed the blood that had soaked my left shoe.


It took me a while before I was up to doing anything. I sat in a chair, the crew brought me an egg sandwich from McDonalds and some orange juice, I slowly removed my shoes and socks being careful not to pull the tape (and skin) off my feet, soaked my feet in tubs of ice water, and eventually I got the energy to take a bath.



We had a jetted tub in the room, which was like heaven, as long as I kept my feet out of it. I had burns on the backs of my ankles and calves from the heat radiating off the asphalt for two days. Steph and Katy worried about me being so out of it so they checked on me while I was taking a bath, but I did fine by myself. The only thing that was hard was putting weight on my left foot.

I took a nap for several hours, I think the entire crew slept. I knew there was no way I was even going to attempt climbing Whitney with my feet in the condition they were in, but I didn't care. I came here for the race, Whitney is always going to be there. As it turned out Katy was the only one of us who actually climbed Whitney, along with Dale and Ed from Colorado.

photo credits: Nick Clark, Ken Eielson, Stephanie Willingham