June 18, 2022
It poured all night. The rain was gentle against the top of the camper and I slept pretty well once all the campground kids stopped howling and screaming at the night sky. My alarm woke me abruptly at 0530. No more time to waste. Just needed to get the simple things ready in my pack. Clothes, food, and hydration.
I changed my clothes while feeling thankful it wasn’t too cold. I had prepared everything the night before and went for my long sleeve shirt, shorts, hat, and crew socks. I filled up my water flasks and stuffed them into my vest. I attached my poles to my vest in a make-shift way that I was prepared to try out for the race. They seemed mostly secure and out of the way. I laced up my shoes and stepped out of the back of the truck.
I still needed to spend some time getting my food and drop bag ready. I was hopeful I could actually eat some food this time so would be able to restock my pack at the second and fourth aid station. I had prepared a myriad of things ranging from cheesy potato waffles, chocolate and potato chip cookies, scallion pancakes, and ham and pineapple rice balls. I also had some trusty essential prepackaged food. The chews I survived my race at Mount Tam with, some dried fruit bars, chocolate covered peanut butter rice crispy, a Starbucks rice crispy treat, and a few other things. The Starbucks rice crispy treat was something I was really looking forward to.
I was prepared with a variety since I knew something, at some point would have to sound good. I was excited for the things I had made and hoped that would be enough to get me to eat a lot and consistently. I felt optimistic and my pack was full. I shoved a few snacks in the belt of my shorts too.
I had my raincoat on for now for warmth, but knew there was no way that could stay on. I could at least stay warm for now walking down to the startline. I was ready as I ever would be. I walked a short distance down to the startline and checked in. It was a relatively small crowd and a small set up with a few tents. I appreciated the simplicity.
Before I could really get nervous the race director spoke a few short words to thank us for coming and then without a startline set up he sent us off. A small group of us, about 40 or so people, headed out into the early morning mountain air.
We headed down a short trail to get to the Lake Siskiyou Trail and headed west along the lake. So far the morning was showing great promise with the weather. For the only time we were in one long line stretching out along the trail running along the lake. We headed down to where the Sacramento River spilled into the lake from the mountains above. There were a few seasonal bridges placed here so we did not have to get our feet wet, yet.
I stopped to take a picture of the sun peaking through the clouds, glimmering off the lake. I thought about how far I had come to get here and how far I still had to go. I took off quickly to keep up with the crowd. I had all day to fall behind, all day to fall apart; why would I start now? This would start one of my mantras for the day, “why blow up now, when you could blow up later?” Not sure why, but it seemed to help to remind myself that.
I was here to have fun, to train, and gain confidence that I could go further than I ever had. I tried to soak up the flat two miles along the lake, it would not be easy like this again. I started running about the same speed as a man and we got to talking. Coming up behind him he looked like he was really enjoying himself which I appreciated. He looked relaxed and confident and I hoped to feed off his energy for a while.
We ran until we reached the first uphill. A women pointed us to the left at what I’m not sure can accurately be described as a trail. I looked up to see several people hiking steeply away from the lake. And then I was going up too. I felt strong, but man, it was steeper than I expected. I could tell from the elevation profile it was steep, but I was still surprised.
It was relentless and steep as we climbed the ridge away from the lake. We gained elevation quickly. My friend from down by the lake was breathing gently, holding conversation on the way up. I knew he was going to drop me soon, but could tell he wasn’t quite ready to. As my breath got heavier climbing I egged him on to continue. We were in a little group that would stay together for the most part up the ridge to the second aid station.
I tried to shovel food into my mouth starting with whatever sounded good. Obviously a cookie. But that was the driest cookie I have ever tried to eat. They didn’t taste dry the other day or after I made them, but today it was like sand. I had to drink water as I ate. I felt like I was in a hot dog eating contest where I needed to dip my bread in water. I got the cookie down, but it really turned me off. Surely something else would be better. My goal was that any time I thought about food I would start eating.
We continued to climb, but it leveled off a little and seemed like it might become more ups and downs. We reached the first aid station after about 5 miles. The extremely friendly volunteers helped with filling water bottles and offered me countless snacks and electrolyte beverages. More than my brain could manage to take in. I had planned to just refill with water since from the last race I was a little worried about too much sweetness from a drink. Though this time I had my trusty Nuun Endurance.
We climbed away from the aid station heading into a section of overall uphill, but it would have some ups and downs. Our small group held together accordion-ing back and forth depending on the terrain. They would pull away on the climb and I would catch on the downhill. On and on. Some clouds and light rain blew in around this time as we headed up the ridge. Surely on a clear day views would stretch for miles, but we weren’t so fortunate at that moment.
I embraced it, it was keeping me cool for now. I kept eating, but everything was so dry. I choked down a waffle, then some scallion pancake. Nothing would go down easy, but it at least was sitting well.
The trail widened into a road following the ridgeline as we marched uphill and ran downhill. The dense clouds that had filled in the valley were waning, like they were considering leaving us in peace. It was warming up but still holding at a very comfortable temperature.
I looked back down the ridgeline and road we were working our way up to catch someone speeding along the downhill where we had just been. The first of the 30K looked inhuman compared to our mid-to-back-of-the-pack-ness. I cheered for him as he ran by, I wasn’t even sure he was breathing heavily.
All I could feel was awe. “That guy is a total badass,” I thought to myself. I kept moving along and the road kept dipping across streams. I was able to keep my feet wet hopping around on rocks. It seemed like the sky was considering clearing up for some sunshine for a while, but I just tried to feel grateful for what I had and how things were going.
Another few 30K runners passed our little group and I started gaining some space after a downhill section. And then I was alone.
I turned the corner and a pond covered the road. I quickly searched for a way around, but this was it. It was time for my feet to take a dunk. I stepped in the cold water without hesitation, like I was certain it wasn’t deep enough to swallow me whole. Thankfully I was right, but cold water came up almost to my knees. It felt wonderful, but so chilly.
I knew these shoes and trusted them to keep moving with me even as it got a little sloshy. My feet would be wet the rest of the race, but my shoes pushed the water out as best they could. I never felt uncomfortable.
I pulled out my first rice ball and it fell to pieces. I scarfed down what I could, but it was so dry. Why was this happening?! I choked it down with what felt like a gallon of water and dropped more of the rice ball than I was proud of. It was good though, it just needed more moisture. Noted for next time. I reminded myself I was learning here. I was growing here.
I pushed forward uphill for the most part and slightly steeper in this section. The first woman in the 30K caught up to me and we chatted for a bit. She told me she signed up last minute and did not have too much trail running experience. But she was out here, absolutely crushing it. I wished her luck as she pressed forward, disappearing into the distance.
Looking around more I picked some white flowers out of my vision. Bear grass! I’m pretty sure I was so excited I said it out loud. One of my favorite wildflowers, the true vision of summer arriving. I hadn’t seen any in a while since I had not been spending as much time in the mountains, so I stopped to take a picture.
Reminding myself this was supposed to be fun and mostly enjoyable I continued on as the trail flattened out and met with a real road. I followed the flagging right and then left. Just a short distance and I would be at the aid station and I could reload up food from my drop bag.
I saw tents in the distance as the road went down slightly and crossed over the Sacramento River. Finally, I had arrived. Volunteers swarmed asking if I needed anything, if they could get me anything, and offering me everything from their table. They kindly refilled my water bottles and I headed to my bag to look for more food.
Inside my bag I grabbed more of what was working. More chews and fruit bars, a chocolate and peanut butter rice crispy, another rice ball, and a few other things. I got my hiking poles off my bag and whipped them out and together. The sun was shining now and I hoped to not stay too long so once I was ready I followed the directions back up again along the river.
Back on single track trails, my heart filled with joy. This is what I dream of when I dream of trail running. I was walking, but making my way uphill at a manageable pace. I was not trying to push too hard, but I also wanted to do my best. I just did not want to fall apart.
I ended up being alone on pretty much this entire stretch as I went up following the river toward its headwaters. I was in trees and then meadows. An alpine paradise. I made sure to keep my head up and soak up all the mountain goodness. I took pictures and appreciated the way my body carried me up the hill. I even ran a few sections uphill.
In the meadow I stopped to take a picture of some interesting looking flowers. I thought maybe they were immature skunk weed, but turns out there were pitcher plants in the wild. I learned they are carnivorous plants later when showing my pictures to some people. I was so glad I stopped to take a picture and appreciate the relatively rare sight.
Non-stop uphill kept my confidence in check as I crossed the river to the other side of the valley. This was of course so I could continue going uphill. A little ways after the river crossing I saw the first 56K runner. Wow! Truly inspiring. We traded kind words and continued in opposite directions.
He was the first person I had seen since I left the aid station. Now I was seeing them trickle down the hill at amazing speeds. I wondered if I trained hard enough if I would ever even get to that point. For now I could just be inspired as I continued zig zagging up the switchbacks.
A heavy cloud came in dropping the lightest snow slurries on me. I smiled at the beauty and quiet that snowfall always seems to provide. It was cold, but heading uphill kept me warm for now. The trees were thinning out and I could tell we were going to crest the saddle any time.
A woman passed me going up the hill at a speed that looked like she was skipping. I tried to hold pace for a bit but she quickly left me in the dust. I felt like I was giving it all I had at the time, but at some points it did not feel satisfying or like it was enough. How could I train so hard and spend so much time and still be at this speed?
The question was not exactly a useful one at this particular juncture, but it would start to nag at me a bit on and off on this section. I can see now that asking myself this question in the middle of the race was not going to make me faster. It was not going to make me a better racer. It was not helpful to my enjoyment of the race which is the most important thing for anything I do.
I know not everything is fun all the time, and sometimes we ask ourselves hard questions so we grow, but I had come so far and here I was trying to tear myself back down by thinking I could have been better. I could have been faster.
No, I was doing the best I could. Giving it all that I had at that moment. That was enough. That was going to get me to the finish. I was not going to stop. All these thoughts were racing through my head and I finally had the saddle in my sights.
To be continued
Finding Wildness 
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