Second Annual DIY 100K

So, this happened last Friday.

As usual, trying to find ways to occupy my time and prepare for upcoming events always takes a bit of creative genius. Felix and I decided to do this again, even after last year's not so great event. I think we were in Spanish conversation group when we decided to repeat it.

Last year was okay, but we did 50 miles and it was hot and I remember feeling like I couldn't get my head in the right place all day to really enjoy it.

This year was completely different. Our friends Mel, Brooke, and Rachel came out to do a few miles, and Crisann generously offered her front porch for an aid station area, and between Felix and Crisann's house- they are be neighbors-  we had bathrooms and refrigerators available as needed.

My intention was to stay out for the entire 100km, as long as it took me. I wanted to make myself run at least 6 hours of it, as I am building up my running time again after several years of doing way too much walking. Other than that, I just wanted to take it easy and have fun. It looked like it would be hot again, so I had plenty of ice and cold drinks in my coolers.

Crisann brought bagels for everyone who wanted them, and we set up my table on her porch with potato chips and other crap food, and we were set. Her house is centrally located on the course, and Felix's is right around the corner.

I was the lone hard core early starter. I got to Crisann's at about 3:50 am, set up my stuff, and was ready to start at precisely 4 am. I strung a section of toilet paper labeled "DIY 100K Start" in Sharpie across the entrance to her porch in the dark, and took off. It was still dark but soon the sun began to rise over I-25 and the Budweiser plant, and at some point Mel drove up and was ready to start by maybe 5 am, and we ran about 3 miles together before taking off on our own loops.

There are maybe 4 to 6 different loops that anyone can run on this course to keep it a little more interesting. A few have hills, but they are pretty tame, except after you do them ten or fifteen times you start to recognize them as hills. I keep track of my distance using paper, pen, and calculator, and GPS is my backup system.

The morning got progressively hotter and by 9 am I wanted ice on  my neck. That lasted until about 1 pm when it clouded up enough to seem less intense, and even cooled down a little. Instead of 93 degrees as forecast, them temperature hit maybe 88 or 89 and then cooled off into the low to mid 80s with cloud cover. That saved my butt.

I felt good all day. I distributed the running well over the entire time I was out there, and didn't walk super hard when I was walking.I didn't even use music until late in the afternoon- for the last 3 or 4 hours. Most of the day I ran alone, with occasional loops with Mel or Felix.

Mel originally wanted to do her first ultra, so she set her goal as 26.3 miles, but she felt so good that she ended up doing a full 50K. Her first ultra at the DIY.

After that, she went over to the pool and hung out with Felix, Brooke, and Rachel. Brooke did about 16 miles but she was running a half marathon the next day, and Rachel did her longest run ever, I think that's what I heard from Felix. At the pool they were drinking mimosas and who knows what else...








While they were out there I stopped by Felix's for an ice cream sandwich. The afternoon was pleasant and I had few issues- a tiny bit of chafing and I changed my socks once- but other than that, it was all easy.

Felix hung out at the pool until at least 3:00 and then he was way behind- but he wanted to do 100K and got back out there. I kept teasing him about his harem. As it turned out, he did finish around 12:48 am on Saturday- about 4 hours after I did- and I was long gone and asleep at home by that time.

The sunset was a bonus with the cloud cover. I finished my 6 hours of running by 6 pm and finished the entire distance at 8:41 pm. Crisann helped me put my stuff back into my car and I went home.

Not super exciting, but it served its purpose and I felt good running. I was able to still run the uphill sections even toward the end. I haven't felt that good running in a long time. It gives me hope that I might actually become a runner again. Just really looking forward to Across the Years this time.


Not much else to say-it was a good run, 62.2 miles in 16 hours and 41 minutes, nothing to get too excited about, but a decent training run on my feet and ready to take it up a notch as I go into the fall. Kind of a backward approach to marathon training. At least now I know I can run long enough to run a whole marathon.

Summer Urban Adventure: DIY 50 Miles

The race I'd signed up for on July 21, the Lactic Acid Trip 24 hour, in Bailey, on a track, got postponed until October. Since I don't know that I can make it and the weather could be an issue in October, I decided to make my own 24 hour run. I asked around for some places where I felt I could run safely all night in a loop that would allow me easy and frequent access to my aid station. My friends Crisann, Felix, and Joanne all live in a quiet neighborhood in the north part of town and Crisann offered to let me use her house as my aid station and bathroom.

The benefits of this run would be a safe place to run alone in the dark, multiple short loops for variety yet easy aid access in case of hot weather, the availability of a deep gravel path similar to the conditions I'll encounter at Across the Years, and little traffic.

I sprained my ankle in June when blinded by the sunrise, I stepped on a pine cone and rolled forward. It had been about 6 weeks since the sprain and I was doing well with it, until last Wednesday Crisann and I were out hiking near the Rawahs and I misstepped and rolled over on it again, re-tweaking it. It only hurt at the moment I did it, and then it seemed to be okay after some ice, ibuprofen, and rest for a couple of days. I was a bit concerned about the ankle but I taped it the morning of the run and it held up fine other than getting puffy the day after the run.

I woke up at 3 am, unable to sleep very well, but I had a good five hours of sleep- which is enough to get through another 24 or so hours. My car was mostly packed with my supplies, all I had to do was load the coolers with ice, drinks, and food that I'd prepared in advance. I threw everything in and drove to Crisann's, set up my table, coolers, and junk in her driveway. They left the outdoor lights on, and I was set up in 15 minutes and ready to go. I started at 4:30 am on the nose.

It was cool but humid, 69 degrees at the start, and I began by doing the short loop around her neighborhood which was about 1.15 miles according to my GPS. Once the sky got a little lighter, I went out the other two loops, one of which I called the fork, and the other an out and back to the main street leading to their subdivision. One was about 1.65 miles and the other was 2 miles. Both of these had hills and climbed a little less than 50 feet each, but I knew the vertical would feel good for variety and would add up over the day.

The sunrise was worth every second of sleep deprivation. Looking east toward I-25 across the plains, the sun was a huge orange globe and the light reflected pink on the silos and buildings at the Budweiser plant.

Once the sky got light enough, I planned to do about ten percent of my miles on the gravel path that winds through the neighborhood. Most of it is loose, deep gravel, exactly like the Across the Years course. I want to condition my feet for Across the Years, which I plan to run in December, and last year the gravel portion, which is about ten percent of the course, killed my feet. I need to be ready for that if I want to make it through a couple of days of running on that course.

My goals for the day were to run 80 miles or 24 hours, whichever came first, to get 8 miles of gravel running, and to run for 6 hours of the time out there.

About two hours into the run I got a text from Felix, who lives around the corner from Crisann, asking me where I was in the neighborhood. I happened to be at my table at the moment. Felix came over and met me, and we started running together. He also took me on a loop around the lake in their neighborhood, which was a nice distraction from the usual loops. Along the way we ran into Joanne, who was out on her run, so the three of us did a few miles together including some of the gravel path.

Felix and I have been friends for many years now, and he's an amazing athlete. He's an ultraendurance cyclist, swimmer, runner, climber, and I'm probably forgetting something. He was on my crew for the Badwater Double, and he was there during the infamous SpongeBob hallucinations. He always seems to show up at the right moment, whether it's for joining me for my birthday runs or arriving in the middle of nowhere in the desert with pizza or ice cream, or coming up with a conversation topic completely out of the blue that distracts me from whatever discomfort I was thinking about at the moment. He always makes me laugh.

We spent a few chunks of time reviewing Spanish vocabulary and conversation, and talking about assorted topics that at this point I can't even remember. The day got progressively warmer and the shady spots fewer, and there was a lot of humidity. Big thunderheads were accumulating over the foothills but the sun was blazing until we got a little cloud cover toward the end of the day. The temperature was in the 80s and got up into the low 90s by mid-day, but the humidity was steady.

We knocked out the 8 miles of gravel before noon, and I got two solid hours of running in by late morning and decided to throw in minimal running the rest of the day until it cooled down in the evening, then I would focus on getting the full 6 hours of running in. I was drinking plenty, taking in S-caps and peeing enough, and I filled my bandana with ice, keeping a big ice pillow on my neck to stay cool.

All day I struggled mentally, I wanted to get into a rhythm and zone out, listen to my tunes and keep a steady walking pace. But somehow I couldn't do it. I was constantly distracted, the neighborhood had too many twists and turns, things to look at, and there were no "blank" areas where I could just tune out and lose myself. Felix was cognizant of my need for alone time and he sort of did his own thing, loosely following my route but giving me the space he thought I'd need, and that was great. But somehow I could not get my mind in the place I needed to be, to enjoy my run. It was like my brain as constantly being called on to look at something, notice something, and I felt overstimulated in that setting. Maybe it's just where my brain was that day.

Felix and I had talked about recent events and how we cope with them. I felt pretty traumatized after the past week between the news of how the President botched things at NATO with our allies and then the Helsinki summit where he looked like an oversized kid who had just been berated, punished, and sent to his room by Putin. Felix told me his strategy for such things- by tuning it out and not listening to the news. I told him how I need to find a better strategy for dealing with all of it, because it upsets me so much.

I was hoping this run would be a chance to reset, clear my mind, and let go of all that worry and frustration. Even though I didn't think about those events during the run, I still could not get my mind into a calm, relaxed place. I started to think about cutting it short for another day, but decided to keep going until the temperatures cooled down in the evening, to see if I could get my mind off things in the dark. After about 30 miles my mental struggle was overwhelming, despite my attempts to zone out with music and run the least stimulating parts of the course.

Whenever it's humid I tend to chafe badly and often get heat rash, and by afternoon I was greasing my legs where the seam on my shorts was rubbing. I didn't see the extent of the chafing until 11 hours in, when I rewarded myself for reaching 40 miles by changing my clothes and re-greasing. I had an outline of my running bra that was chafed- under my armpits and across my chest, and a few spots on my shoulders. I knew I'd be screaming when I finished and took a shower.

Felix would run with me and whenever I stopped at Crisann's to get more food, drinks, or ice, Felix would run over to his house to get his own supplies. Then he'd come back and find me on the course. Usually I'd see him sprinting toward me as I continued in my slow, steady walk.

After my clothes changing break, when Felix found me, he was wearing a "Team Beef" shirt. At that point I was at about 42 miles and it cracked me up. I don't even know why it strikes me as so funny, but if you knew Felix, it would make you laugh too.

I was really craving ice cream sandwiches at that point, and Crisann made an attempt by stopping at Trader Joe's earlier and picking up some ice cream sandwiches. Except they were soy ice cream sandwiches. I tried one and it actually wasn't bad for the first few bites, but then the chalkiness hit me. Not the same. I thanked her but explained there's a reason why I wear a tiara that says "Princess".

I called Dennis around 5 pm and asked him if he could bring me a real ice cream sandwich and maybe some food around 6:30. After another half hour I changed my mind. I'd had enough. I decided to keep going until 50 miles and call it a day. I just wasn't having fun, and I needed to save it for another time. I called Dennis back and told him my plan, and let Felix and Crisann know. I kept going until 50, it wasn't quite sunset, but I'd been on my feet for a little over 15 hours and it was enough. I felt like even in the dark, there were enough things I'd have to watch out for- like cars parked on the street, cracks in the sidewalk or road, corners, curbs, and the usual neighborhood activities that would continue to be a distraction- my brain would never be able to get into a relaxed state.

The official name of the run changed from the DIY 24 Hour to the DIY 50. And Felix, in his usual state of awesomeness, had completed 50 miles too. In about 2 hours less than it took me. Crisann and Felix helped me load up my car and I was soon home to Dennis, the girls, and food.The ice cream sandwich had to wait until Sunday, but I finally got my indulgence.

So... I got a decent 50 mile training run in, with a good portion of gravel, in the heat and humidity, with lots of mental distraction. I'll have to look for another opportunity for a long training run in August. But it was a memorable experience, shared with my great running buddy, and will go down in the history books as another urban adventure.

It was like turning lemons into tepid, sun-fermented, bug protein-infused lemonade, served on the rocks over neck bandana ice cubes and a sweat-crusted rim.

Afternotes: Worst heat rash I've ever had maybe with the exception of Badwater. Feet were fine other than heat rash, terrible chafing on my upper body, and my left ankle looks like a baseball tennis ball. But nothing hurts! No problems going up and down the stairs, walking, or moving. No blisters whatsoever. What's next? Bring it on!!

Photo credits: Felix Wong

Heat Wave and Drama in the Hood

It was a good call to take a few days off, things already feel better but I'm not going to push it, I will take at least this full week off from running. Not that I won't sneak in a few things on my feet...I'm leaving in a week for Badwater and it's been hot here, 99 degrees the other day felt great outside. In the house is different, we don't have air conditioning except in the bedroom and out in the woman cave, so the basement is the only comfortable spot and that's where the girls hang out.

I've been using ice on my sore spots and I even took a little ibuprofen to get the inflammation down, and it all seems to have helped. I am very tempted to go up to Estes Park and hike the trails below Longs Peak soon, get my high altitude fix before I leave for the desert. I finally got on the bike this morning, it felt good, but it was already hot and I only rode for an hour, but it was on hilly terrain. I am being a slug other than walking the girls, but it feels good.

We've had neighborhood drama around here, there's only one rental in our neighborhood and it happened to just get occupied by some very strange new people last week. We've all been watching. There is something strange about people who just moved into a neighborhood, then shoot illegal fireworks off at 12:30 am the night they move in, and have lots of different cars and people coming and going at all hours, even after they've moved in.

They keep their curtains closed most of the time, parked an ugly trailer full of cardboard boxes outside the house, had a pit bull off the leash and wandering around the yard, and claimed it's a service dog when confronted by one of the neighbors, and they have things like big helium tanks or propane tanks that they moved into the garage, and a lot of other junk. Their garage looks like some hoarders have been living there for the past 40 years, but they've been in there less than a week.

The entire neighborhood is on edge since they moved in, and we're hoping they will get kicked out before they either blow something up or the SWAT Team arrives. So far we can't even tell who the actual residents are because we've seen so many different cars and people. Just really WEIRD.

I wanted to go up to Estes this morning but I woke up too early, set my alarm for 4 am and went back to sleep, but slept through the alarm, so I didn't go. If you don't get up there early enough, there are too many people on the trail, it's hard to find a parking spot, and you miss the best light for taking photographs. I'll try to make it up there next week before I go to Death Valley.

I've been having a productive day here, getting some work done and getting things done around the house. I got Iris out for a walk extra early this morning and we caught all the sprinklers going off on our route. She loves to bite the water in the sprinklers and tries to hit every single one in every yard along the way. It's a game- get the sprinklers- and she is totally drenched by the time she's done, and of course she shakes all the water off on me!

The garden and plants are bouncing back after the killer hailstorm. The raspberries are having a great year, and I replanted the beds with tomatoes, peppers, and beans. The flowers in front are starting to come back and the yellows, golds and oranges are starting to dominate as the early season blues and purples fade.

We're supposed to get hit hard with monsoons starting next week, but we'll see if that's an accurate weather prediction. I will be happy for rain, for several reasons, to water the yard so we don't have to do it, to keep the fires from starting up, and for me to run in. I want to be ready for any kind of weather in Cleveland, and September is the rainiest month. A good long run in the rain would be perfect after this nearly 100 degree heat we've been having.

I hope I get enough rain to be sick of it and ready for the heat again by the time I leave for Badwater!

Sunday Slaughter

It was a solid week of training for me, which I wrapped up this morning with a Double Bacon.

No, that's not a cheeseburger. It means a double loop of the Bacon Strip, which is a 10 mile loop on hilly, 95% dirt county roads northeast of Fort Collins, about 3 miles east of the Budweiser plant. Yes, even Fort Collins, the Napa Valley of beer, has diverse offerings of brewed beverages...

The Bacon Strip, being east of town, has a great view of the northern Front Range, and all the way north to Wyoming. It is also a butt kicker of a training run. According to local marathoners, being able to run a double Bacon means you are more than prepared for a marathon. I'm not sure, but I wonder if it might be possible to predict your marathon finish time from the time it takes to cover this 20 mile course.

My friend Tom Schipper contacted me earlier this week and asked if I had any plans for a long run this weekend, and I did. I suggested a double Bacon, which is about the toughest 20 mile run around here on dirt that's within 15 minutes driving distance of downtown.

I've known Tom through the running club since 1996 and we happen to be well-matched in terms of running pace. In most of the local races we finish within 30 seconds of each other. I gauge my starting position in local road races by Tom's location, he's easy to see because he's so tall.

We drove out to the Bacon Strip, and got started just before 7:00 this morning. It was a warm, windy morning. Tom suggested we run counterclockwise for the first loop, which was a good call because we had a headwind the first 5 miles, then a nice tailwind coming back to the vehicles.

I've been feeling good lately and I thought I could run 9 minute miles on the Bacon Strip. WRONG! In the first two miles my legs felt so tired I wondered if I was going to be able to complete a second 10 mile loop. We were running into a strong headwind, and we still had some cloud cover blocking the sun, but the best we could do were 10 minute miles into the wind. Eventually we warmed up a bit and it was easier to push the pace a little, but it's so hilly and some areas have loose gravel and sand that slows you down.

I started with one tall bottle of water, having downed a liter on the drive out there. I was aware that I was a little pre-dehydrated, having not taken in enough fluids on Saturday, and then drinking a STRONG margarita just before bedtime.

I regretted drinking the margarita all night. As a result I was hot flashing like crazy and kept waking up, and I only got about 4 hours of sleep before my alarm woke me at 5:30.

We got to the cars at 10 miles at under 10 minute average pace, and the cloud cover had long since gone away. We were at the mercy of no shade, no clouds, another dry headwind outbound on the second loop which we were running in reverse. We took a good break at the cars and I drank another full liter of fluid with S caps, then took two full tall bottles in my pack for the second loop.

We were still doing well as we made the turn away from the headwind at 15 miles, but it was getting hot. The tailwind wasn't enough to cool us down anymore, and by 17 miles we were both pretty much out of water and starting to feel warm. We both took brief walking breaks. I recognized that I might be in trouble with only 3 miles left to go, I had a little bit of a headache and my stomach suddenly felt a little funny. My head felt hot under my hat.

I wondered if Tom felt the same, I knew he was low on water too. Around 16 miles we had discussed my going ahead because he thought he would be slower at the end, I told him that if I didn't see him behind me by the time I got to the cars, that I would come out and bring him water.

He seemed to be doing fine so I took off but didn't get more than a half mile ahead by the final turn at 19 miles. I alternated running and walking those last 3 miles because I kept feeling like I was getting too hot.

When I arrived at the cars, three and a half hours after we started, I could see Tom at the top of the last hill coming down to the cars, less than half a mile away, so I decided to just wait for him. By the time he got to the cars he looked pale and said he wasn't feeling good. He opened his car and sat down, I told him he should get out of the sun and he got out and opened the hatchback of his car and sat there. I had him put a frozen water bottle on his neck.

Then he started puking, I dug more small frozen water bottles out of his cooler and put them on his neck and grabbed a towel out of my car. Fortunately he didn't puke for very long but he looked white.

At the same time this triathlete couple showed up, finishing their Bacon Strip loop and they had some cold water in their car. They offered it to us and I dumped the cold water over the towel and Tom sat there and recovered, until he felt well enough to start sipping some cold coke. He bounced back pretty fast after the coke, so I'm sure he needed some sugar, too.

I was really thankful that those people were there because all I had left was warm water in my car. Usually when I do a long run I am well-stocked with ice and cold drinks in the cooler, and some oral rehydration salts, and other stuff, but I made the mistake of not taking a 20 mile run very seriously.

As it turned out, it was 82 degrees when we finished. I guess I needed a reminder to come down from my ultrarunner hubris and remember that anything can happen, even on a short run, and to always be prepared. Didn't I just blog about that a few weeks ago? My long-term memory must be going along with the hot flashes. I felt like a dumbass. I was lucky I wasn't sick, too.

As the wind dried me I could see how much salt I had on my arms. That isn't normal for me when I do my sauna training, but I haven't been doing that, either.

After Tom sat there a while he said he felt good enough to drive home, so I followed him into town, and he gave me the thumbs up when it was time for me to turn off to my house. I called him later and he's doing fine. But we both realized we hadn't planned very well.

Hopefully a lesson learned. The lessons will be repeated until they are learned...

So now I'm drinking a lot of fluids and eating some soup for the fluids and salt, and I hope I can take a nap and recover from today's Double Bacon Hog Slaughter so I can make it to my next run this coming Work Hangover Wednesday...

Death in Death Valley

I'm very sorry to say that I am reluctantly blogging about the death of a runner, again. I've already been asked about it, people always want to know what I think, with a blog about ultras, Badwater, and heat running, so I decided to post, carefully.

I don't mean for this to sound judgmental. It's not intended that way. The grief of his family and friends is too painful and too great, there hasn't been enough time for them to process all that has happened, and right now, we don't even have all the details or the results of an autopsy.

There have been comments and articles on the Internet and in Outside magazine and various blogs, and discussion on ultralists. I've steered clear of it, but I've had too many e-mails yesterday and today asking me if I know about this, if I knew him, if I know what happened, what do I think, etc. I got tired of writing back to people saying, I really can't comment on this right now. So here's what I know:

Most unfortunately, it was in Death Valley. It was not connected with the Badwater race, not connected with any multiple crossing of the valley, not connected with any organized event. It wasn't even intended as an ultra run.

I don't know all the details beyond that. I didn't know Michael Popov, I ran in one race with him 4 years ago but we never exchanged more than a few words and well-wishes as we ran laps at Across the Years. He was young, a fit and accomplished runner.

It sounds like he was trying to cross the bottom of the valley from the West Side Road to Badwater, a distance that, as the crow flies, is only about 10 kilometers. He underestimated what it would take to cross that way, it appears he didn't have enough fluids to keep him going in the event something went wrong, which it did.

I wish someone had told him that Ben Jones had done an autopsy before on a guy who tried to cross the valley like that, looking across and thinking, it's not that far, but died doing it. I don't know if anyone told him. I don't know if they did and he decided to do it anyway. It's not the first time that someone has attempted to go across that way and died.

Crossing the valley that way isn't what it appears. There are obstacles, wet, muddy, marshy salt flats, variations in terrain and footing that make it a lot longer crossing than a few hours. It's not pancake flat as it appears from the eye or even the topo maps. There's no shade, and no drinkable water. There's also no access to a road without going a long way out of the way...

It doesn't matter who you are, how well-conditioned you are, how experienced or accomplished you are. Whenever you set out on an adventure run of any distance, but especially in an extreme environment like Death Valley, you need to do your homework, and you need to plan for the worst with a workable backup plan.

It was 123 degrees. He died of heat stroke. I don't know if he had a backup plan. It doesn't sound like there was one. It doesn't take long between the time someone gets in trouble in the heat and death from heat stroke, without intervening quickly. It sounds like he didn't have a chance by the time someone discovered him. Even though he was conscious when found, it didn't take long before there was no way to revive him.

There is nothing anyone can do to ease the grief of his family, his friends, and the people who were closest to him as they go through this loss. It is unfortunately one of the most difficult lessons to accept for people who love adventuring and extreme sports. We are not infallible.

We CAN do everything in our power to keep the worst from happening, and having a safety plan, a backup plan, and doing your homework before you go might not save every life in every instance, but it might save yours.

My own feeling is that it didn't have to happen, and unfortunately, it did. Do your homework. Don't think you're invincible, because you're not, no matter who you are.

Please be mindful of this as you go on your journeys.

Beyond Blisters: Working on a Medical Team

I just got back from my third year volunteering on the medical team at the Badwater Ultramarathon.

It's almost as much fun as running the race. Almost.

But in some ways it's even more fun because I get to watch and learn from the runners and the other medical team members.

When people ask what I do in that capacity, they often think I treat blistered feet. That is actually only a small part of what I do, we actually have foot care specialists for that and I rarely have to do any more than a minor thing involving blisters. Mostly what we treat are varying forms of heat illness, but we see a lot of other problems, too.

I am going to share some of my observations with my readers, with the intention of improving runners' and crews' future experiences at Badwater or other races in the heat.

I consider volunteering at Badwater an honor and a privilege, it certainly is not something I take for granted. I am thankful to Chris Kostman, the race director, and medical director Dr. Megan Dell, and I hope to continue to volunteer on medical at Badwater in the future.

It's a huge task that Megan takes on as medical director. She needs to make sure that all the runners and their crews are safe so that Chris can focus on his duty as race director to oversee it all. The goal is for everyone, runners, crews, and staff, to arrive at the finish line intact and keep anything from happening that endangers their safety, lives, and the future of the event.

Given the unpredictable factors: weather, judgement of the runners and their crews, the presence and behavior of several hundred people involved with the event, in addition to spectators, tourists, the general public, and highway traffic spread over 135 miles, that's a huge responsibility.

Before I go any further, I'll state that what I write here is my opinion and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of anyone else on the medical team or associated with the Badwater Ultramarathon. I'm not writing as a representative of the event, this is solely my own personal opinion from my experiences and observations.

My background

As a registered nurse, I have a certain type of training and background complemented by my 20+ years of ultramarathon experience, and two Badwater finishes, including a double road crossing of 270 miles in 2011. I have worked in critical care nursing in the past and now I'm an oncology nurse in a hospital-based clinic. Both of these nursing backgrounds have been amazingly helpful at Badwater. And I'm not even giving chemotherapy. Let's just say I'm used to treating really sick people.

I also have a background in exercise science and behavioral science from my academic training in natural resource recreation. So I'd say I'm pretty well-rounded in the various aspects of running as a recreational and human performance event. At the same time, I'm certainly not an expert on any one particular thing and I rely heavily on the judgement of the other medical staff at the race.

I see some common themes every year and those are what I'm going to discuss in this blogpost, along with how I view the runners' decisions and what I think about when I am out there on the course or seeing runners in the medical area.

What nurses do

First it might be helpful to explain what nurses do, since a lot of people don't really understand what our role is. Then you can understand how I look at my role on a medical team. Nurses act as patient advocates. We do everything possible to ensure that the patient we are caring for has the safest and best possible outcome from their treatment for a certain condition. Normally this occurs in a health care setting.

We don't diagnose or prescribe, we carry out orders from a physician when it comes to medications and medically indicated treatments, but in terms of total, holistic care of the patient, we act independently and have our own practice.

We educate patients, which is a huge part of what we do. We teach them how to manage their condition, about the medications they are taking, about the treatments or tests they undergo, what complications to look out for, and what symptoms to report to a doctor.

We look out for the safety of the patient, provide hands-on care, and help the patient access resources that will help them restore their well-being, and lead to the best outcome.

You might ask, How does that differ in a setting such as running a race under extreme conditions?

I ask, Why should Badwater be any different from the health care setting?

The answer to both of these questions is, at Badwater, not only are we paying attention to things like heat illness, we act in a preventive role and as safety educators. And safety is the number one, overarching thing we look out for.


What I do at Badwater

So when you come to me in the Badwater medical room and I weigh you, and you're down 8 pounds from your starting weight, your clothing is all full of salt, here's what I'm going to look for: First, are you making sense when you talk to me?

I'll say, Tell me how you're feeling. I'll ask questions like: Have you urinated? How often, how much, what color? How much and what kind of fluid and electrolyte replacement are you taking? Have you been eating? How's your stomach? Are you swelling anywhere?

I will take a set of vital signs if you feel "off" at all. I will help you regulate your body temperature. You'll be hot and sweaty when you come in and then you'll get cold as you sit there in the air conditioning.

We have to assess how dangerous the runner's condition is: low sodium can progress to seizures, coma, death. Dehydration by itself is usually easy to fix if it hasn't progressed too far. A cardiac condition can be life-threatening, especially in this heat.

The medical room gets jammed with people so we have to kick them out if they don't have a legitimate reason to be there. We can't listen to patient's lungs, heart, etc. with all the noise. So we have to be the bad guys sometimes and throw everyone but the runner and one crew member out. Sorry, but it's in the runners' best interest.

As long as you can keep fluids down, I will make you drink and eat something, I'll keep you there until you have to pee, if you haven't been peeing. Your kidneys and brain and gut and other organs need blood flow to keep functioning and if you're hot, all the blood has gone to your skin to keep you cool. Your body produces stress hormones that can make you retain fluid and make you puffy. After you sit there cooling down, you might start to feel better: mentally, and by eating, drinking, and urinating.

Once you're feeling better mentally, I am going to talk to you and your crew member about how to keep you out of the trouble you got in that brought you in here in the first place. And what to look for, if and when to follow up or come back to us at medical.

I'm going to explain to you what's going on with your body, electrolytes, fluids, about the blood flow, about heat stress, and why you need to stay cool. How you're more susceptible to blisters when you're not hydrating properly.

So when you're peeing, have regained some weight, and you're functioning better, plus keeping fluids down, we're going to let you go. And the time spent will more than pay for itself, because by fixing the things that slowed you down in the first place, you will perform much better.

There's a lot of education to be done in every case, both with crew and runners. They need to be more careful about intake and output. We try to pat them on the back for coming in to see us, because it was probably the best thing they could have done at that point- gives them a chance to turn things around when they're going bad.

You might ask...

Should I have a medically trained person on my Badwater crew?

Well, it's not a bad idea, but don't let that give you a false sense of security. That person also needs to have some idea of how this event differs from the setting in which they practice medicine.

I can tell you that even if a person has medical training, until they have experience working at some of these endurance events in hot weather, and know what's the reality out there, they don't really know how to treat the runners.

I say that because we get a lot of runners who have medical personnel on their crews, but they don't necessarily have experience themselves racing in the heat, or have no prior Badwater experience, and they really have no idea how to manage their runner.

I can't even tell you the number of times I've heard some version of this statement from a runner: "My wife is a doctor and she's on my crew". Well, if she's not an athlete, has no experience at endurance events in the heat, hasn't been to Badwater before, her telling me how much urine output you've put out on the average over 8 hours is not going to help me determine the integrity of your kidney function when you're catatonic and dehydrated 40 miles into the race.

"Well he's been averaging 30 cc an hour of urine output" the wife says.

REALLY.

This tells me nothing. He might have peed the entire 240 cc (1 cup) an hour into the race and hasn't peed since. Which ain't much of a pee. This isn't the air conditioned hospital, folks. Sorry, but 30 cc an hour at Badwater doesn't cut it.

The same parameters we use in emergency and critical care for the general unwell population in hospital settings doesn't apply here in this group of people and in 120 degree heat and physical exertion. The runner is also power breathing and power sweating out there. The runner had better be processing a lot more fluids than that through their kidneys or they're in big trouble. That means they need to be taking a lot of fluids in, and peeing a good portion of them out.

What gets runners in trouble most often is not taking the time to cool down so they can do a better job of processing fluids and calories.

What can I do to make the medical team's job easier?

1. Fill out your racer medical history form accurately, honestly, and completely. Don't omit any of the medications you take, including supplements or herbs. You would be surprised how many people in general, including endurance athletes, take things like high blood pressure medications or anti-depressants. These things can sometimes affect your ability to tolerate the heat or exercise, and we need to know about them, especially if you get into trouble out on the course. You'd also be surprised how much we find out when runners come into us, and they start talking, we learn a lot and then we go back to their medical form and they have left out a lot of important information.

2. Use us when necessary, but appropriately. We are there to ensure the runners' and crews safety. Don't occupy a medical team member's time and resources by asking for things like massages, special visits by the roadside for non-emergency situations, looking for a place to take a nap if you don't have a motel room, or in chit-chat if there are other runners around who need help.

3. Choose your crew wisely. I'll talk more about this in a later section, but it's very important. We treat a lot of crew members for heat illness and other issues out on the course.

4. Crews, when your runner is done with the race, have a blanket ready because they will cool down rapidly. After the medal ceremony and photographs at the finish line, get your runner off the mountain. The rapid ascent to 8300 feet makes altitude sickness a complicating factor with dehydration and electrolyte imbalance, sleep deprivation and exhaustion. Take them down to Lone Pine so they can begin recovering as soon as possible.

Safety on the course

This is the other thing we do when we're roving between medical stations.

I'm interested in preserving the runners' safety and the race itself. The importance of the rules becomes even more apparent when the sun starts to go down the first day. The biggest mistake I see crews making on the road is not paying attention to oncoming traffic. They park too close to the edge of the shoulder so when they open their drivers side doors, they are obstructing the roadway.

I'm going to pull over and talk to the crew if your door is open into the road even if there's only a couple of inches to spare when you pull all the way off the roadway. That's why those vans with the doors on both sides are so useful- the crew can use the passenger side to do their business in those narrow areas instead of the side facing the road.

Look both ways before you cross the street! Wear your reflective gear. Use the lights on your vehicle appropriately and according to the rules. Remember there are lots of people not associated with the race on the road. When it's dark outside, visibility is poor, even with your lights and reflective gear.

The later it gets in the race, the more tired everyone is, and it gets harder to be alert and aware of your surroundings. That's why crews need to rest and rotate shifts, and take care of themselves as well as the runner.

About crews

Since it seems like we treat almost as many crew members as we do runners, this is important to mention.

Runners, please think about your crew members when you choose them. Not only is it important for the runner to have their own head screwed on straight to run this race, but they need reliable, healthy crew members to help them do it. Physically and mentally healthy.

Not only does it affect your performace as a runner when you have crew issues, but it affects the other people on the course, runners and everyone else.

If a crew member is not physically fit to withstand 48 hours in extreme heat, sleep deprivation, heat stress, and can't manage their own stuff- meds, food, drinking, proper clothing, and they become incapacitated and do something that endangers everyone, it's not only a safety issue for the runners and everyone else, this is a threat to the future of the race.

Runners really need to be the gatekeepers when they choose their crew members. Know your crew well: do they have medical conditions that make it inadvisable for them to be out in the extreme heat? Can they adequately prepare for the conditions they will be exposed to for up to 48 hours at Badwater, with sleep deprivation to top it all off?

Let me repeat that in different words. (Because I can't emphasize this enough.)

When a runner makes poor choices as to the crew members he or she chooses for an event such as Badwater, the runner is not only endangering their own ability to finish the race safely, they are also endangering their crew members, other runners and crews, and the future of the event.

If one person becomes ill, they have just compromised the health and safety of everyone else on the crew. There are fewer people to cover the roles needed, less rest, everyone is more stressed and tired, on top of the already demanding event. Crewing for Badwater isn't like any other race. It's constant, it's intense, there is no break. The crew is heat stressed and needs to take care of themselves. As the event goes on, people become more tired, less alert, it's harder to keep on top of things like hydration, food, etc.

Do I need to say it again?

Psychological Issues

Nurses often joke about how much of what we do is psychiatric nursing. I think the same thing applies in ultramarathons.

If a runner is struggling, sometimes they just need to talk, to talk out loud through their decisions, or to see if what they're doing makes sense. And sometimes we just need to let them cry, and sit there with them as they process their disappointment, when they realize the best option is for them to quit.

I always observe how the runner is interacting with the crew. Is that an added source of stress for the runner? What I want to know is, is the crew doing anything that is hindering or endangering the runner? And if they are, can it be fixed through communication or just a little education on the spot?

Some crew members forget that the reason they are out there is to crew their runner and help them successfully and safely get to the finish line. That is what a crew is for. Being a crew member is not so you can get a training run in, or wield control over other people. We see a lot of interesting dynamics out there. Occasionally, the best thing a crew member can do is leave. See my blogposts "So ya think ya want to run badwater" and "Big Bad and Superhot".

What The Medical Team Does, and Does Not

The medical team is there to help runners and their crew members in the event of some physical problem such as dehydration or heat illness that can be turned around or fixed so the runner can continue the race, or to keep such a problem from developing into a serious or life-threatening emergency which would require full medical attention and transport to a hospital.

If someone has a minor injury that is in no way life-threatening or endangering their runner's safety, they can come in to see the Medical Team at the nearest station. Sometimes people just need to talk and we are willing to listen.

We don't do IVs. An IV is only done when medically necessary and it always means the racer will be disqualified. If you're of the mindset of some of the triathlons and other races out there that provide IV rehydration to participants at the finish line, you're in the wrong place. Placing an IV, especially in non-sterile conditions such as a race medical tent, increases the risk of infection or bacteremia from contamination.

If the race is over and you're feeling like you need IV rehydration, there's always the emergency room of the local hospital. I don't encourage this unless the runner is unable to keep food and fluids down. The best thing to do is to rehydrate and recover by drinking, eating, and resting.

I'm not a shrink. Roadside psychiatry is not really one of the things I do. If anyone has a concern, they should feel free to come to one of the medical stations, but unless someone is in danger, we generally don't make roadside visits for non-medical issues like massages, pep talks, and hand-holding.

What's it like working on the medical team?

It's a good mix of physicians, nurses, first responders, an exercise physiologist, and foot care experts. (I think we could use a clinical psychologist too.) We're all professionals who are committed to our areas of expertise in our real jobs, and the combined level of education, experience, and skills make this particular bunch of people top notch.

We don't get a lot of sleep. We share duties like covering different stations, the finish line (where we all freeze), getting sleep and naps, getting food or short run breaks. We have to do inventory and keep organized for all the equipment year after year, making sure supplies don't expire, having enough of certain items and discarding what we really don't need. Also, we need to be anticipating runners' needs at each station and being ready for that.

In a successful year like this one, there were no IVs, almost all the runners we saw were able to go back out on the course and finish with oral fluid and electrolyte replacement.

During the post-race party, we always get runners who come up and thank us for our care. We were able to help them turn the problem around, get them back on the road, to a successful finish. Sometimes they amaze us, someone who looked like death coming in to Stovepipe Wells spends a couple of hours cooling off and rehydrating, and they blast off to the finish line. Nothing makes us happier than to see the runners we treated 90 miles down the road cross the finish line with a big smile on their faces and their crews faces too.

It's really fun, we're a big bunch of nerdy people, and we all have a sick sense of humor. Yes, almost as much fun as running the race.

As you can see, we do a lot more than blisters. And we wouldn't come back year after year if we didn't love it.

Screaming in the Shower!

No, this is not meant to be a pornographic blogpost or an opportunity to show my boobs to the world like those narcissistic people do on Facebook. I just got back from the sweatiest, slowest, chafingest, longest, torturous-est 8.8 mile run and thought I would chafe my right boob off in the process. I kept moving and felt like crap. It took an hour and a half.

I had a water stop that was perfectly placed 30 minutes into my out & back run, so I got two equally spaced water breaks. On the second water break I finally looked down at my tank top and there was a big bloodstain that leaked through my bra onto the shirt. I'm sure that looked gnarly to all the walkers and cyclists passing me, especially as I ran down Lemay Avenue on my way home with all the morning traffic.

Here's another reason why Walmart is really not so bad. The bra I was wearing today, a Saucony bra, probably sells for 30 to 40 dollars retail. When I run in the humidity, it chafes me. Last night I ran 11 miles, in no less humid, hotter conditions, and faster, which means more opportunity to chafe, but I was wearing my $8.00 Walmart bra. No chafing whatsoever.

I am still really tired from my work days, plus I put in over 16 miles yesterday. I need to pack and do some studying today and tomorrow.

I got some great ideas for some fall mini-adventure runs. Felix is already in for motorcycle crewing. Soon to be announced. Does it involve Walmart? Maybe, maybe not. But there are some places I've always wanted to check out that are within a day's drive from here, and I'm making a list and figuring out some fun and creative routes.

Time to take a shower and expose my chafed skin to the water. If you hear screaming, you'll know why.