Seven
days before Rio Del Lago, I noticed I had an itchy throat. Hopefully, it’s just
allergies, I thought, and took a Zyrtec. The scratchy throat did not go away,
and I was certain I had caught the dreaded cold a week before the big race. At
first, the symptoms were mild, but then 3 days in, my cold symptoms began to
get worse with muscle fatigue and all. of. the. mucous. It gets worse before it
gets better, right?
When
I lined up at the start line, I was very stuffy and had an incessant cough, but
the muscle fatigue was gone. Just be
grateful that you’re not a weakling, I told myself. Sure, I can’t breathe,
but once I start running, maybe my sinuses will clear up. After a short race
briefing, the countdown to the 5 am start was on, and off we went.
 |
| Right before tripping at mile 20 |
As
we looped around Lake Natoma, we started to hit the trails, running along the
bluffs overlooking the lake. It was still dark at this point, and I had be
careful over the uneven footing on the trail. I tried to maintain a similar
effort for this section, so slowed my pace. Around mile 13, the sun began to
rise, and it was nice to be able to see the scenery around us. My cough got
annoyingly persistent, so I started taking some cough drops. I couldn’t wait to
see my sister, Honoka, at mile 18, the first aid station. I was starting to get
bored, and it was nice to have something to look forward to. I had no idea what
the aid station would look like and how difficult it would be to find her, but
she spotted me right away. I stocked up on fluids and gels, and off I went.
At
mile 20, in my typical clumsy fashion, I tripped over a small rock. I slowly
baseball dived into the trail, grazing my forearm, knee, and thigh. Embarrassed
that I tripped over smooth trail, I quickly got up and kept moving forward. I have
no idea if anyone saw me fall. I don’t
think I’m even bleeding. I slid into the ground ever so slowly. I glanced
at my palm and my arm right above the elbow. I’m bleeding.
I
knew an aid station was coming up at mile 23 and my friend, Marty, would be
waiting for me there. I saw a bathroom preceding the aid station and rushed to
the sink to remove all the dirt out of my freshly grazed skin. I did a quick
assessment, and saw that I needed to clean three spots. I tried to raise my
knee into the sink, but I was too short to push my knee closer to the faucet.
In haste, I threw a bunch of water onto my knee, then exited the bathroom in a
hurry. Another lady was trying to get in as I was going out. I apologized. I made a mess in the sink.
As
I approached the aid station, Marty called out my name. I told him that I was
bleeding in just a few spots because I fell. He wiped the dirt out of my wounds
and put some antibiotic ointment over the spots. Just a week before, when Marty
offered to come to this aid station, I thought it was absolutely nuts for him
to drive from the Peninsula to Granite Bay just to see me for five minutes or
less. Now I was so grateful that he was there to clean up my wounds.
 |
| Granite Bay (mile 23) |
Once
we were on the right track, I suddenly found myself in a conga line on the
single-track trail. At first, we were moving at a reasonable pace, but as the
miles tacked on, I felt like the 15-person conga line was moving slower and
slower. I was getting frustrated but was afraid to pass the leaders of the
line. One girl lost her patience and was zooming past the conga line, almost
falling when she reached the front of the line. Even though I wanted to do the
same, I convinced myself that I was not well, and there’s a huge chance that I
will blow up late in the race. And when I blow up, all these people in the conga line will laugh at me.
 |
| With pacer Cameron |
 |
| Coming up to Overlook (mile 44) with Nate |
I
was really looking forward to getting to Overlook (mile 44), where I would pick
up a pacer. I knew Cardiac Hill into this aid station would be a long three
mile climb, but this section went by very quickly because another runner, Nate,
kept me company. He was raised in Wisconsin and lived in Minnesota, so it was
fun to chat about all things Midwest. I could tell he really looked up to his
grandfather and the research he had done.
 |
| So happy to see crew |
Graham,
Cameron, Honoka, and my pacer, Bill, greeted me at Overlook. I was elated to
see them and sat down to put on some fresh socks. “You’re in fifth place,” they
told me. As I reached over to put my shoes back on, my abs cramped. That’s uncomfortable. The cramp lasted
no more than a few seconds, and it was a reminder that I should take some salt.
I tried to eat off the table since I knew I would get sick of gels later in the
evening. The oranges looked good. I
should pack more fruit next time.
I
was happy to be back on the trail again, and while there would be a long ways
to go, I thought it would be easier with pacers. My first pacer was Bill, who I
met at the Avalon 50 in January. He was super chatty and made the miles go by
very quickly. Once we crossed No Hands Bridge (mile 48), the race started to
thin out. The heat was really getting to me, and I started to get sick of
drinking the Roctane drink mix. I was trying to get half my calories from
fluids and half my calories from gels, but I could feel the nausea starting to
creep in.
 |
| Cameron, Honoka, me, Bill, and Graham |
As
we made our way to Auburn Lake Trails (mile 59), I kept brushing my forearm
that was bleeding earlier in the day against the branches that poked into the
path. Every once in a while, I would shout out in pain, and I hope I didn’t
startle my pacer too much. At one point, I was startled by some loud rustling
in the woods, and Bill noticed me staring into the forest. “All the sounds you
hear today are from squirrels and cute bunnies,” he assured.
A
blister on my pinky toe and a bruise on the top of my foot started to take a
toll on me. We stopped on the side of the trail in an attempt to address the
foot problems. Wrapping the blister only intensified the pressure, though, and
I immediately had to take pad off my blister. On the plus side, sitting for a
brief moment did magic to my quads. It was like I had new legs and could run
again without taking frequent walk breaks. What
a great discovery! It helped me power hike through Goat Hill, a short but
steep section of the course.
Around
mile 64, the sun began to set, and the sky turned a glorious hue of deep
oranges and reds. The sky was on fire.
A
while after it got dark, we caught up with Brady who was running sans headlamp.
I was impressed with how he got through all the uneven footing without a light.
We stuck together to No Hands Bridge (mile 70) so he could see the trail better
between our headlamps. It seemed to take forever to get to the Highway 49 aid
station (mile 67), but then the excitement of getting to No Hands and closing
the hilly lollipop of the course made the time go by more quickly.
At
No Hands, I picked up Cameron, my second pacer. I was surprised to see Calvin,
my third pacer at this aid station, too. “You’re in fourth place,” they told
me. I got to this aid station about 40 minutes later than I projected because I
didn’t account for all the breaks I would take at the aid stations without
crew. As a road runner, I never stop but a few seconds at aid stations, but of
course I needed to take longer 10-minute breaks for a race this long! We took
the Western States trail up to Overlook. There was more climbing than
descending in this section. Only 30 more
miles to go. Wait 30 more miles? I don’t even want to run a marathon let alone
30 miles. Don’t think about that. Just get to the next aid station four miles
away. I was eager to see Annalisa and Marilyn there. Also, it was thrilling
to know that I had surpassed a personal distance record.
 |
| Restocking at Overlook (mile 74) |
At
Overlook (mile 74), I was surprised to meet my entire crew. I was relieved to
get into new shoes that were a half size larger than the ones I was wearing. I
should have put on these shoes at mile 44. At Overlook earlier in the day,
Graham and Cameron got on to me about not eating enough over the 9-mile section
from mile 35 to 44. I had only eaten one gel and 3 cough drops. Now I found
myself asking my crew if I could get enough calories from the cough drops
because the gels and drink mix were really not settling well in my stomach.
“The cough drops are maybe 10 calories,” Annalisa said. I hope the broth and orange slices will carry me through the night.
I
was overwhelmed with the love and support I had at Overlook aid station. To see
my gang of seven supporting me in the race inspired me to keep my eye on the
finish line. There is a three mile descent on road and gravel out of this aid
station. I was clinging onto this sliver of hope of being able to run this
section, and I was ecstatic to find out that my legs could still turn over with
good cadence. As we cruised down this hill, we passed the #3 female, who was
walking down this section to Cardiac aid station (mile 78). I’m so glad I still have my running legs.
At
Cardiac, I sat in a chair and tried to consume more calories. I can only eat broth and orange slices. This
is going to get ugly. I told Cameron that I was eating a Jolly Rancher,
twice the size of a cough drop. That’s double the number of calories. “There’s
a girl who just left this aid station. Go get her!” said one of the volunteers.
I assumed they were telling me that I was leap-frogging with the girl who was
walking down the hill into the aid station. She
seems to be fading, and I still have some running left in me. I can get back in
third place. That seems reasonable.
Once
we got back on the trail, Cameron clarified my confusion. “You’re already in
third place, Asuka.” They were telling you that #2 left the aid station, and
you can catch her. Well, I don’t know
about that.
A
couple miles later, we came upon two headlights moving along the trail. Is that the #2 female? She was walking
along a flat smooth section with her pacer, so I was able to maneuver past her.
She asked Cameron, “Is she the runner?” I imagined that she had been holding on
to the #2 position for most of the race, and it must have been painful to hear
Cameron respond, “Yeah, she’s the runner.”
The
trek to Rattlesnake aid station (mile 83) seemed to last forever. I was
leap-frogging with two other runners and at one point, we weren’t sure if we
had missed the aid station. I checked the map off my phone, and we were less
than half a mile away. When we got to Rattlesnake, the aid station seemed quiet
and empty. I scoped out the parking lot and didn’t see my sister or pacer, Calvin.
Where is my crew and pacer? I had my
essentials in my drop bag, and I had some broth and orange slices from the
table. In my hydration pack, I carried a hard copy of my projected times at the
aid stations. The spreadsheet said Rattlesnake at 11:30 pm, and it was 11:32
pm. I hope they didn’t get in a car
accident.
Once
we were both sufficiently fueled, Cameron and I started discussing the elephant
in the room. “Did we get here too early?” Cameron asked.
“I
don’t know. I asked them to be here at 11:30 pm, so I don’t think we’re early.
I’m not sure what to do,” I replied.
“Well,
I’m not going to let you go back out there by yourself.”
“Ok,
well, let’s leave them a note on the drop bag, since we don’t have reception
here,” I suggested.
Meanwhile,
Graham, Marilyn, Honoka, and Calvin were on their way to Rattlesnake. Since I
arrived at Overlook 40 minutes past schedule, they decided to leave later for
the next aid station. While they were driving, Honoka got a notification from
the tracking app that I arrived at Rattlesnake at 11:25 pm. “Did anyone bring
the food bag?” Marilyn asked. Realizing they didn’t have crewing supplies,
Graham, who was driving, turned the car around back to the hotel. They grabbed
the bag, then Graham sped toward the aid station. He ran a red light and drove
down the windy road leading to Rattlesnake aid station like he was driving a
race car. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down,” Calvin told the crazy driver.
When
Calvin arrived at the aid station, the volunteers immediately asked him if he
was looking for the Asian girl who is #2 female. They told him that I had
already left. Calvin grabbed my thermos of coffee and sprinted down the trail.
Cameron and I had not made it very far, so he caught up with us easily. I was
really happy to see him – to know that my crew was ok and that Cameron could be
relieved of his pacing duties. “What happened?” I asked Calvin.
“Nothing
happened. We were just chatting at the hotel and left a little later because
you were behind schedule. Do you want some coffee?”
When
I learned that the volunteers told Calvin that I had already left the aid
station, I asked him how they knew to tell him that. “How did they know that you
were my pacer?”
“I
don’t know. You’re Asian, and I’m Asian, so I must be your pacer. That’s all I
can think of.”
The volunteers must
have been eavesdropping on the conversation Cameron and I were having.
The
trail crossed paths with a road that led to the parking lot to Rattlesnake aid
station. Here, I parted with Cameron. Calvin and I made our way toward
Horseshoe aid station (mile 86). I had some broth, an orange slice, and a third
of a banana. I braced myself for the technical section called meat grinder. I
knew it was coming up, and the worst of it would be only two miles. I prayed
that I would have the mental strength to power through that section. I met
Calvin about two months earlier when I joined a group run that he led at Mt
Tamalpais. Even though I had only met him once, he graciously agreed to pace me
for this race. At this point, I could feel all the aches from my quads, ankles,
and feet. Calvin barely knows me. I need
to be on my best behavior.
Meat
grinder did take forever. All the big rocks and uneven footing intensified the
pain in my quads and put pressure on the blister I had on my pinky toe. I don’t
know how Calvin had the patience to stick with me the entire time because I was
going painfully slow. I was afraid that I would fall or get a cramp if I
misplaced my foot, so I was being very careful. The course markings were not
obvious at every fork, so Calvin ran up ahead and made sure we stayed on the
right path. Around mile 89, I sat on a rock for one minute then stretched out
my calves. After taking advantage of the trick I learned earlier in the day, I
got my running legs back.
When
we got to Granite Bay (mile 96), Calvin dumped out most of the drink mix out of
my hydration pack to lighten the load. Whoa,
my body feels so light with so little in the pack. Home stretch! I was going to
make it.
I
was excited to be four miles away from the finish, and the excitement carried
me for a couple of miles. Around mile 98, my mental state got worse before it
got better. Would I still make it under
24 hours? Calvin asked me what time it was. “It’s 2:20 am,” I said. Since day
light savings ended around this time, it made it even more challenging to calculate
the finish time.
“If
it’s 2:20 now, that means it’s 3:20 on Saturday time, so you’re on track for
sub 23-hours,” Calvin calculated. Calvin
is doing the math all wrong. I only have 40 minutes to finish 2 miles to make
it under 24 hours. No point in correcting him now. He’s been so patient with me
already.
When
we hit the bike path that leads to the finish line, I could see the finish line
arch lit up to my left. According to the official RDL map, we were supposed to
go through the campground, not the bike path. “Are you sure, this is the right
route?”
“Yes.
I’m going to tell the group that you’re coming!” Calvin said and took off
running. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him about the official race course
map. Oh well. I was super stoked to
cross the finish line as second female, still with some running legs left in
me. Sub-23 hours. Calvin was right.
 |
| With pacer Calvin |
I
feel super lucky for how the race played out. Even though I was stuffy with the
cold, I was able to survive the race without much of a hitch. I got nauseous
but didn’t throw up, and I remained reasonably coherent to the end. I didn’t
hallucinate or get mauled by a bear. Life
is good.
I
could not have done it without my pacers Bill, Cameron, and Calvin. I am so
grateful to my crew, Honoka, Marty, Graham, Annalisa, and Marilyn, who gave me
the strength to stay focused to the very end. Knowing that they sacrificed
their entire weekend to support me was truly inspirational.
Time 22:41:41
Overall Place 39/251
Gender Place 2/80
