Elizabeth Sasseman: November 2015

Thursday, September 17th, 2015:

It's one day before the start of the race. I arrived in Steamboat Springs mid-afternoon after a 3-hour drive west. With nothing but rap and hip hop blaring on my speakers and the windows rolled down, I'd been cruising along the mountain roads intensely visualizing every mile of tomorrows race. This is how I get myself psyched for a hundred-mile run through the mountains. I love driving, I love rolled-down windows, and I love music. I was smiling the whole way.

I had an hour to do nothing before the race meeting where I'd meet with my friend Mur and we'd sit and listen to the race director tell us about how the weather forecast means absolutely nothing. "It will be freezing," he'd tell us. I could really feel the weight of the notion of 'nothing' in this moment as I rolled into a parking space at a Starbucks on the south side of Steamboat. I sat for a moment, contemplating 'nothingness' as I enjoyed the final 30 seconds of ATLiens by Outkast. Before I knew it the song was over and I wanted to listen again. I sure as hell hoped those 30 hours would feel like the short 30 seconds of that song!

I decided I'd head into Starbucks, buy the cheapest thing they had, use the restroom, and sit in their comfortable chair and finish the final episode of the final season of Gilmore Girls, which I'd become addicted to over the summer. It was a bittersweet ending and a great way to take the focus off the race-jitters. For an hour.

I felt ready for this race, no doubt in my mind. I was well-trained physically, overall very healthy, and felt mentally prepared to survive anything, especially a baby race like tomorrows. Seriously. I'd never felt mentally tougher in my entire life than I did on this day.

Back to the car, turn up the Outkast, and over to the race meeting.

Mur and I walked to the meeting together with her family. This was Mur's first 100-mile race so she was a little nervous. I tried not to let it get me nervous, but it's hard not to start second-guessing everything while listening to a first-timer ask questions I didn't really know the answer to. Not to mention, I didn't really want to revisit these questions I'd spent months already answering for myself leading up the race.

Mur would ask, "Do you think we have a chance at under 30 hours? Should I put gloves in this drop bag or this drop bag? Should my family go to this aid station or this aid station?"

Don't get me wrong, fantastic questions. But I personally won't be thinking about under 30 hours until the last quarter of the race. Under 30 or not is completely dependent upon the first half of the race. Also, it's all personal preference what goes in what drop bag and who meets where when. It's difficult to listen to these questions after already sorting through them earlier on and coming to a confident conclusion about them all. I did not want to re-think about all of this now, a day before the race. After Mur completed her drop bags and we'd dropped both of ours off, she felt relief. So did I. Too late for either of us to change anything now!

Me, Race Director Fred, & Mur

All I remember from the race meeting is Fred telling us to ignore the weather. Just what I figured. He emphasized, "It's going to be freezing! Have tons of layers in your drop bags!" It's always the same deal. Everyone wants to know the weather forecast, and the weather forecast is never what was forecasted. I think it's the optimism in people, hoping for a positive weather prediction so they can start the race with a positive mindset. "This won't be that hard, it's going to be the perfect temperature all day." And no matter how hard the race director emphasizes the reality, half the people come under-prepared and drop out. Luckily Mur and I packed our drop bags for a fucking ice age. Gloves and hats and gloves and pants and hats and pants and gloves. It's go time.

Friday, September 18th, 2015:

I woke up at 6am, had a look out the window, and couldn't help but smile and laugh to myself as I saw rain pouring down on the street. I thought to myself, anyone who put every single one of their windbreakers, ponchos, gloves and hats in their drop bags and forgot to keep some for the start of the race is screwed! Mur and I were over-prepared so we got ourselves ready and wandered over to the start with all the other nervously-excited humans. There's this feeling I get before a massively long race like this. I feel so small. I feel so insignificant compared to these massive mountains and massive miles I'm about to cover on these teeny tiny feet of mine. I think about how many mountains there are and how many trails there are and how long it would take to ru--

"THREE...
TWO...
ONE...
GO!"

And so begins the start of a very long amount of time before I can relax.

Heading to the 8am race start (Me, Mur)

Mur and I started up the ski hill by the gondola at the base of the Steamboat resort. We were both smiling and telling each other how it's just an adventure. It's not a race. We're just hanging out, two friends, running a very long way. No. Big. Deal. And quite honestly, that set the tone for the whole race, and it was great. We talked, we ran, we laughed, we spaced out, we ate, we listened to music, we stopped to take in the sights. We were tourists. We really were. Exploring these trails like we'd do on any other day. With just a little bit more suffering than we'd normally ask for.

Mur looking down toward the gondola where we began the race

Having too much fun at mile 20

Still having too much fun at mile 25

Ran by some painters painting Fish Creek Falls

It actually turned into one of the most gorgeous days of the year after a couple hours of rain and mist and clouds. Blue skies, yellow aspen leaves, perfect cool-for-summer mountain temperatures. I absolutely wouldn't let myself complain about a single thing. I'd be foolish to complain. Weather for a 100 doesn't get any better than this.

Not to say things didn't hurt. My legs hurt like they should hurt after 20-30 miles. But pain is just pain. I was eating, not bonking, so the pain was manageable. I was well-trained to use my fat stores instead of relying solely on carbohydrates. But I had calories coming in steadily. One gel every 30 minutes for the entire freaking race. I swear I knew when it was time to take a gel without looking at my watch. That's how in-tune I was with time during this race. I want to say most people are like this during these long ultras, but who knows. We get so in-tune with everything. Just very aware of our surroundings. In a very detailed way. I notice little things I normally wouldn't notice quite as much during an everyday run. Nothing to fill the space like cell phones and rushing around normally does. Just quiet and surroundings and then a pause. Just my five senses taking everything in that's right in front of me. Such as the breeze that caused some leaves to fall off the tree over to the right. Pause. And the sound of my footsteps. Pause. And the way the air smells different now than it did 10 seconds ago. Pause. And it's time to eat another gel.

Not to say I don't get lost in my thoughts. I really do. But my thoughts are almost completely separate from the detailed awareness of my five senses I just talked about. Both are going on at once. And boy do I get lost in my thoughts.

I listened to some music during the race. Here are some of my "race" songs that kept me going:

ATLiens by: Outkast
Snakeskin by: Deerhunter
100 (feat. Drake) by: The Game
Your Soul by: Hippie Sabotage
Party Talk by: Craft Spells

I don't want to bore you with the details of every aid station and the mileage. It's all the same. We arrive, get more food, throw out our trash, listen to people ask us what we need, fill up on water, drop off the gear we don't need, gather the gear we'll need for the next section, and we get the hell out of there before we talk ourselves into sitting down.

Mur and I around mile 35

I want to talk about how incredibly happy this race was because of the company I shared it with and how optimistic I felt the whole way. I spent 42 miles with Mur. We were both very positive the whole way. We got to see her family and other friendly faces at aid stations, which was nice. And both Friday and Saturday were beautiful. This time of year all the leaves are changing, making the mountains golden and absolutely stunning.

After 42 miles, Mur took off with her first pacer, and I started out with my first pacer, Ashley D. She was full of positive energy. Ashley just completed her first 100 mile race in August. So she knew how I was feeling, and that's important. I felt very energized with Ashley as she paced me into Friday evening. This can generally be a low point among runners as it gets colder, darker as the sun sets, and we realize we aren't even halfway yet. But I was psyched to be here. And psyched by Ashley's energy, even though she was only with me for a few miles!

Need I say more about Ashley's energy?

My next pacer was Jon C. Another 100-mile runner. I tend to feel confident and trusting in whatever Jon tells me. He has his PhD in nutrition, and he's completed all nine 100 mile races he's started. Therefore, what Jon tells me, I have to listen to. Or at least that's what I forced myself to believe between mile 45 and 65 while he paced me! Jon tells me to eat another gel, I eat another gel. Because hell, he has his PhD in nutrition. Jon tells me to keep up with him as we go from walking to running, and I do just that. Because shit, he's completed all nine of his 100s. Logic enough for me this far into a race.

My first low point came during this section. My feet started hurting. Which was worse than the consistent hurt of every other body part. I believe this is due to the fact that there's a relief every time I pick my foot up, and then I'm right back to the pain as soon as my foot pounds back into the ground. It's like this constant reminder of the pain with every single step. And I took quite a lot of steps during this race! Jon told me funny stories from his days in college, which should have been funny. Except I was mostly thinking about my feet. And the stories really just blurred into one long story that lasted for a very long time. So I have absolutely no idea what they (or it) was about.

I got through this night section really well, considering it got down to 8 degrees at the highest altitude of the race. Really, the only thing that went sort of wrong was my idiot decision to put my hand on one of the heaters in an aid station. It melted my glove and I'm lucky I didn't burn my hand. Good thing I had extra gloves.

Melted glove and my mark on the heater. Yes I left my mark on the course.

Saturday, September 19th, 2015:

Mile 65-ish! It's now sometime in the morning, like 1am? I'm making that up. I don't remember. Time to pick up my third pacer, Alaina C. Alaina has three pets: two rabbits and a dog. At the time of this race she only had one rabbit. And I remember her telling me about her plans to get another rabbit. Because they are all super adorable, I'm going to add a photo of them in here:

Cody, Buster, Zoe

Alaina told me a lot of stories about her animals to keep my mind pre-occupied during the race. There might have been a moment or two or three when the idea of cuddling up with these furry friends sounded way more enjoyable than running from mile 65 to mile 74. I think I almost got a little too lost in imagining this. As close to hallucinating as I've ever been to hallucinating during a race. But I'd snap back into it and realize I was in the middle of the mountains in the middle of the night in the freezing cold on a trail and these animals were only a figment of my imagination as Alaina told me about them. Alaina also rapped for me. That was pretty entertaining :)

Other than the horrible GI issues I was dealing with, this section went really well. And by GI issues, I mean having to squat every 30 minutes to, uh, let things out. It was fun. Very memorable.

This is what night looks like. And headlamps. You really do run through the night during a 100 mile race.

Ok time for the last 30-ish miles with Ryan C. And I want to point out real quick that my autocorrect attempted to change '30-ish' miles to '3-ish' miles just now. I definitely meant 30, not 3. And possibly more as the race was closer to 105 miles than 100. Autocorrect, you better get with this whole ultra-running business.

My second low point occurred during this long final section of the race between mile 80 and 90. Ryan and I just finished climbing a long hill and my achilles tightened up like crazy. It became incredibly difficult to run because everything was so stiff. I was in a bit of a bad mood because of this. I felt mentally capable of running, but not at all physically. And there Ryan was over there telling me these stupid jokes and dancing around me like a little kid and I kind of wanted to punch him. I'm sort of kidding. Luckily I didn't punch him and luckily his jokes were enough to keep my mind off of my frustrations for awhile. Ryan finally talked me into consuming some caffeine and a tylenol. Or was it advil? I don't have a clue. Either way, I was against taking these for quite awhile. Too much caffeine makes me panicky while running. And taking medicine can be harmful to the already-stressed organs in high doses and it can also cause you to push harder and further injure yourself, which I did. I dealt with an inflamed 'achilles bump' for a month post-race. Some sort of minor tear.

I'm glad I took the tylenol and caffeine because my achilles loosened up and I had the highest of highs during the whole race between mile 90 and the finish. Suddenly I got it into my head that I'd be able to break 30 hours and earn the gold belt buckle. I had 36 hours to complete the race, but I knew I would be so close to breaking 30 hours for the gold buckle if I tried hard. I had about 3 hours until the 30 hour cutoff and like 15 miles to go. That's an average of 12 min/mi. Right on the line of difficult to do this late in the race especially with the climbs and descents, but possible. As soon as I thought it, it was a done deal. I was going to finish under 30 hours.

I spent an hour listening on repeat to 100 (feat. Drake) by The Game. I kinda felt invincible which is a little funny to think back on now. I managed to pass handfuls of people and put quite a lot of time on those people by the finish. Why didn't I take caffeine sooner?! Ryan was basically running a 50k. This was his first time pacing and he made the typical pacer mistake of taking care of his runner much better than he was taking care of himself. He became somewhat dehydrated and was possibly suffering more than I was at the time. I'd look back at him and he'd look like he was about to vomit. I feel bad about this now, but at the time it kinda just made me push harder. Here I was feeling better than my pacer at mile 97! Sorry Ryan.

This is around mile 97

This is around mile 102

I finished at 1:35pm Saturday afternoon in 29 hours, 35 minutes and earned the gold belt buckle! Mur finished 5 minutes ahead of me with a time of 29 hours, 30 minutes and also earned her gold belt buckle! She did an amazing job for her first 100 mile race. After we split around mile 42, I saw her in passing around mile 70 and she looked like she was doing awesome!

Crossing the finish line back at the gondola in Steamboat.

Mur and I at the finish line, happy as can be and ready for some beer.

I don't have a whole lot to say in terms of summing up my experience. This race was by far my best effort, my best race, my favorite race, my most positive race, and anything else good you can think of. Seriously. I'm a little afraid of my next one because of how high the standards are from this one. Other than being well-trained, it's all about the positive attitude, which you either have or you don't. You can't force a positive attitude because life doesn't always allow it. I failed both my 100s last year and I certainly didn't start either of those races with a positive attitude. You can't force a 100. So far I've learned the difference in attitude is the biggest factor affecting the outcome of a 100. But I've only finished two and failed two. And I realize there are many more variables in a 100 than just attitude. We'll see how the next one goes!

Some post-race photos Saturday afternoon and Sunday: