Leona Divide 50 2018

Going into the Leona Divide 50 Mile, my body wasn’t feeling 100%. Recently, I’ve been experiencing a weird sensation on the outside of my left leg; below the hip and above the knee. It doesn’t hurt when I run. It doesn’t hurt at all. No pain whatsoever, but something is there. I can feel something when I stretch or foam roll.

I also wasn’t going to dive into panic mode either. It was just something I needed to be aware of and keep my eye on.

This was thoroughly on my mind on my way to the Green Valley Charitable Hall in Santa Clarita but kept quiet on the slight anxiety I was having with it. Needless to say, whatever weird sensation was going on in my left leg, or was going on, was the least of my worries on this day, and was never a factor in how my race turned out.

When I arrived at the start, the temperature was cold, somewhere around 40-ish degrees. I was dressed for 80+ degrees because I knew we’d be getting up there at some point on this day. Weather is never something you can control so why even bother getting upset or complaining about it? You plan and wear as few clothes as you can without getting arrested, or scaring the wildlife which actually might be an incentive to keep them away from you.

Start to Spunky Edison Fire Road

The first mile was on an uphill road just before we hit the fire road and my body was cold. I gave myself a chance to take it easy and warm up my legs a bit.

I didn’t see anybody I knew who was doing the race, but a couple of miles in, I came upon my friend Vida. I was pretty focused on making it up the hills and didn’t notice she was right by me.

“Hey!”

I turn around. “Hey, Vida!” What’s funny is I should’ve expected to see her at this point because I tend to run into her in that area of the course. We weren’t together for long before the first aid station which is a little short of 3 miles and the start of the day on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT).

Spunky Edison Fire Road to Bouquet Canyon Road

Feeling comfortable, I knew I’d be hitting a lot of downhill. This section is always a blessing and a curse. It’s great going down, but no matter how often I’ve been on this section it’s always a challenge for me.

I would say there were two people, whom I don’t know, that were quite impactful to me during the race.

The first person was a gentleman in blue who was just up ahead of me. The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of grace that he exhibited as he ran on the trail. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever witnessed anyone run with this sheer display of gentleness and ease. It was so zen! Is this the ChiRunning? His running looked effortless. I was in awe and I immediately wanted to emulate him. I studied his movement and tried to match his footing and his posture.  This was no small feat and I wasn’t successful but he gave me something to strive for and work on.

At this time a few runners were returning from Bouquet Canyon (the 50K turnaround) and so began the maneuvering and making way for them on the thin single track.

As I ran down I felt good. I was also cognizant of the pending heat and made sure I drank plenty of water even though at this time the temperature was still cool. I guess that’s why I was surprised to see someone already bent over on the verge of tossing their cookies. But I don’t know their story. I could only assume they were turning up their effort to full throttle up this 4-mile climb and it got to them. Or perhaps they were just admiring the landscape and vegetation on the side of the mountain. Hope they feel better.

Just before I reached Bouquet I saw some familiar faces of Ta’Mara, Martine (Dauntless Diva), Doyle, and Melody making their way back up the trail. I would never see them again. Oh, I should say, not on this day because you know I could eventually see them in the future.

My goal at Bouquet was to quickly refill my water pack and hit the road. I had 9 miles until the next aid station and the 50 Mile turnaround and didn’t want to run out of water halfway there.

After struggling to seal up my pack bladder, I was ready to cross the road and continue. I had an excellent time. I looked to my right and then looked to my left, and I didn’t see, or hear anything. I took one step and then a “STOP! I SAID HOLD UP RUNNER!”

I was about to go all Robert De Niro on him. Are you talkin’ to me? 

He was looking at me.

So I looked at him and said, “I couldn’t hear you.”

“HOW COULD YOU NOT HEAR ME?!” he yelled out to me from across the street.

Well, let me see here. You’re across the road and I’m standing right next to an aid station that has about 15 to 20 people and most of them are talking. Not whispering, mind you. And I was just fiddling around with my pack to try and seal it up quickly so I could get out here and honestly wasn’t paying attention because I was distracted and when I looked to both sides I saw nothing and prepared to cross. You have an angle that provides you with a great advantage. So no, I could not hear you.

I’m thankful and appreciative of the fact he was there and I could only imagine the amount of responsibility he has to ensure the safety of the runners which is no easy task, but maybe whoever has this post, can yell out not to run, more than once. Maybe get a bullhorn, or sound off a fog horn. Spook the bejeezus out of us so we all pay attention.

I crossed the road and he said, I didn’t want you to get hit. “Yeah that would’ve ruined my race,” I jokingly replied.

He looked at me quizzically and it was at that moment I had a feeling that maybe that wasn’t what he just said to me. I don’t know. I still couldn’t hear him because a car had zoomed by and it was so loud.

Bouquet Canyon Road to Agua Dolce

(The website spelled this Aqua Dolce and the drop bag area had it spelled Agua Dulce so I’m really not sure which is correct but I spelled ‘Aqua Dulce’ on my drop bag and it still made it there.)

A few minutes after hiking up the trail, I heard a soft faint voice coming from the trees in the distance, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I said, as I looked to my left and saw some campers. Oh hey, campers! PCT campers! I don’t know if they were hiking through or if they just decided to sleep amongst the surrounding Poison Oak, but a few minutes later I came upon a woman hiking through.

I asked where she was from and she said, “Australia.” Wow! She came from Australia to hike the PCT! At that moment I wanted to ask her so many questions. Where did you start from? When did you start? What’s been the most amazing thing you’ve seen here? What made you decide to do this? But then I remembered I had a race to do and she needed to get to Canada. I wished her safe travels and carried on.

A minute later I came upon my first hurdle. No really. We had these metal structures in the middle of the trail and I don’t know what these are for. If you know, please fill me in.

I thought for a second that maybe they’re used to tether horses but then that just didn’t make any sense. I mean, why would you put horses right in the middle of the trail and block it? Regardless, the irony wasn’t lost on me – I was about to jump over hurdles to get through this race. HA!

Once I got to the peak of the climb I was hit with this gasp of, “Oh wow, look at this awesome view!!!” I was dumbstruck at how beautiful it was out here! This is why I decided to do the 50-mile race after doing the 50K a couple of times: I wanted to see what was on the other side! Ok, I also had an additional reason. In this second though, it didn’t matter. I don’t even know what area I was looking at but that view did not disappoint.

I could’ve stood there for a long moment and taken it all in and relaxed but the clock was ticking. At this point, the men’s leader came running up crazy fast as if this was a 5K. Note to self: next year look into signing up for the 5K instead. Second note to self: there is no 5K option available.

Just ahead would be the long stretch of downhill that I’ve heard and read about. Subsequently, it would become the long stretch of uphill I’ve heard and read about as well.

But down? Ooh wee, this was sweet!

The first portion was probably my favorite spot of the entire race. I loved this area. For one, the trail was so smooth and easily runnable. And secondly, it reminded me a little bit of the Miwok 100K course. I felt like I could look off into the distance and see the Golden Gate Bridge.

I wouldn’t necessarily consider this course technical. Not even the 50K course is technical. However, on the 50-mile course between Bouquet and Agua Dolce, there are a few rocky areas, but nothing you need to seriously maneuver over. Sean O’Brien is considerably way more technical than Leona Divide. But these 9 miles had some terrain with a bit more rockiness to it than any other part of the course.

The downhill kept going and going, and the returning runners kept coming and coming. As one guy was running up, he said to me, “Just about 3 miles more.”

“Great, thanks! Is it mostly all downhill?”

“Yeah for the most part. Then you’ll hit some rolling hills, but it’s pretty much downhill.”

He was spot on.

Each runner would trickle by and except for only a few, we all said, “Nice work, great job, or keep it up.” We look out for each other.

One guy in particular said something that I kept with me for the rest of the entire race. Remember I said there were two people, whom I don’t know, who were quite impactful to me during the race? He was the second.

As I was running down, he paused and waited for me to pass. As I ran by I said thank you and he replied, “You’re doing great. Just keep it steady.”

Just keep it steady.

I cannot tell you how many times this filtered into my head for the remainder of the race. It became my mantra that overrode all other mantras that I had in my bag of tricks.

I repeated it over and over and over. It was tattooed on my brain. I just might get an actual tattoo of it.

Something so simple, and yet so obvious, can make such a big difference. It switched a gear in me.

When I reached Aqua Dolce, the site of the 50-mile turnaround, there were a few runners getting supplies and one being tended to by a volunteer, and I wanted to be in, and out of there within 5 minutes. I emptied the contents (CarboPro) of my drop bag to carry with me and discarded the bag. I refilled up my water pack and CarboPro bottle. I doused my bandana with water. And I was out in 5 minutes. Every second was accounted for and I had no time to waste.

And I think I made a mistake here.

Because I decided to stick with the Huma gels, Run Gum, and CarboPro, and eventually ginger candy as fuel, I didn’t consume nor take with me the award-winning PB & J sandwich that I heard rave reviews about. People at the aid station were talking about it. I was reminded of the epic PB&J sandwich I had at my first Sean O’Brien in 2014 and now I was faced with the possibility that this one at Leona Divide could be better. Or maybe it was the same one! I could’ve been reunited with it!

Needless to say, solid food makes me nervous (something I’m still working on), and knowing I had a ton of miles to cover and an ominous uphill to face, I didn’t change it.

Part of me regrets this, and part of me thinks this could’ve impacted my race for the better, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

When I left the aid station I felt good. I felt physically good. I knew what I was about to face and was ready for it. Or so I thought.

Agua Dulce back to Bouquet Canyon Road

Soon after leaving the aid station, I started to not feel so great. My stomach was feeling a bit off. Nausea.

A flashback to my first Leona Divide in 2013 told me to keep sipping water. So I did. Am I dehydrated? But I’ve been drinking a lot of water so where is this coming from? Am I not drinking enough? I’ve been taking in salt, gels, and CarboPro. Was all of this not enough?

Was it the heat? I honestly didn’t think it was overly hot. Sure it was warm, but there was a cool breeze and I’ve been in much hotter races. This was one of the coolest Leona Divide races in recent years. Last year, and the year before, were much hotter! Although I did get a lovely little sunburn which meant I must’ve missed some spots when I put on sunscreen.

The way I was feeling, I must’ve missed some spots with my hydration and nutrition. But where?

My uphill battle became that much harder, and all I could do was keep it steady.

On my way to Agua Dolce, now and then I would look back to see a woman running behind me. Coming back, she was now in front of me. Every few minutes we’d wave to keep tabs on each other and make sure we were still slowly making relentless forward progress.

When I saw her curve around the mountain I noticed she had a trekking pole. Does she have a trekking pole? I never saw her with a trekking pole. Maybe she had one hidden. But why does she have just one? People usually have two. I guess she just has one.

“YOU SHOULD GET YOURSELF ONE OF THESE. IT HELPS.” I heard her yell out to me as she raised some sort of long stick into the air.

YOU SHOULD GIVE ME YOURS?

WHAT?

NOTHING.

“Oh ok, thanks!” I said.

I pressed on with now having the task of trying to find some sort of long walking stick that could sub-in as a makeshift trekking pole. Note to self: maybe I should buy trekking poles.

I quickly abandoned this project, and for several reasons:

1. The thought of having a handful of splinters, on top of a stomach full of nausea, didn’t sound too appealing to me.

2. With my luck, the stick would have a million ants on it.

3. I’d be so out of it that I’d pick up anything that even slightly resembled a stick. Ooh, this stick is so soft, smooth, and squishy and makes a funny rattling sound. Is this a rainstick? When did rainsticks start sprouting fangs?

Miles later I’d hear and see this woman shriek and stop dead in her tracks. The young lady who was in front of her would turn around and say, “Did I just walk by that and not see it?”

They paused for a moment and then kept going.

As I got closer to this area I didn’t want to see anything. I didn’t want to look around to find this snake (and I assumed it was a snake) nestled on the side of the trail waiting for me because you know, if you just ignore it or pretend something isn’t there, that makes it not there.

I pounded my feet harder as I picked up my pace as much as I could. I didn’t hear any rattling. And it was so quiet out there it’d be difficult to miss it. I didn’t see a snake. I didn’t see any snakes during the entire time I was in this race. Thank heavens! I didn’t need something else to slow me down even further.

When I reached the peak and was finally done with all the upward hill work for the last 6 miles or so, I saw a great-looking stick lying on the side of the trail. I could’ve used this stick!

What lay before me now was all the downhill back into Bouquet Canyon and running along rocky terrain to make that next cutoff time.

I gotta say, I jammed down this rocky section and was quite impressed with myself. For the first time, I maneuvered my way down swiftly and steadily. Keep it steady. Maybe that’s because I was up against a cutoff time and I wanted to make it in there before the wagons came by to pick me up. I would’ve continued if I didn’t make it.

It was in this part I heard footsteps approaching. The runner that was being tended to back at the aid station was now upon me. It’s been about 7 or 8 miles since I last saw him, and now I knew why he was being tended to.

Somewhere around 13 miles in, he took a nasty fall and broke his ankle. He saw the bottom of his foot come up and heard the crack in his foot. It was painful to watch him run as he pained through every step.

He told me he often tells his son, who is autistic, to “never give up” and that he wasn’t going to give up in this race until he got his medal so he could give it to his son. Unfortunately, I don’t even know if that happened because he said he was going to tap out at the next aid station. His story made me want to cry.

Here I am dealing with this awful feeling of intense nausea that won’t go away and he only has one working ankle and is in excruciating pain with every step! But my tummy hurts.

When I caught sight of the Bouquet Canyon aid station again, I was so elated! Any minute now I will be there. Unfortunately, I probably had another half mile or so until I reached it. Ugh. That was brutal. So close and yet so far.

I came upon the same man who didn’t let me get squished like a bug earlier (Thank you!) and crossed the road. I filled up with ice and Coca-Cola since they were out of Ginger Ale.

“No water?” the kind volunteer asked me.

Nope. I had some and it was enough to get me to the next aid station.

From Agua Dulce back to Bouquet, time ticked by fast, and my miles passed by slowly. I had 3 hours to go 9 miles and I needed every minute. That’s how difficult this portion was for me.

Bouquet Canyon Road back to Spunky Edison Fire Road

As I was leaving Bouquet, I looked over to the timing tent and noticed the gentleman who works the Ham radio at Angeles Crest 100. We chatted for a minute and then I was off. See you in August, John! That’s if I survive this next section.

With Coca-Cola in hand, I slowly trekked on.

The last 9 miles coming back from Agua Dolce were by no means easy. Not even the slightest. The climbing is gradual in parts and steep in others with rocky and smooth sections throughout. And exposed. There is very little coverage on the whole course.

But in addition to this next stretch, the course was about to turn brutal.

This portion is tough, always tough, for me, and I know there is one particular part that is steep. It isn’t long but its steepness always gets me.

I just got through about 6 miles of climbing and another 4 miles of it were upon me.

I wanted to throw up but I couldn’t, and that feeling never left me. I tried to remember to straighten up as I climbed up to relieve pressure off my back but my back was hurting. My feet were sore but they were the least of my concerns and I only got one teeny tiny blister.

I don’t listen to music on the trails so it’s just me and me. And when I began to get dizzy halfway up, I went into a dark place.

I just might die out here.

No, you’re not going to die.

I just might.

No, you’re not.

I sure hope I don’t fall into a snake, or down the side of the mountain. They wouldn’t be able to find me.

You’re going to get through this.

They’d say, at least I died doing something that I love, but I’m not loving it right now.

You’re not going to die.

How am I supposed to do other races that I want to do which may be much harder if I can’t get through this one?

You will get through this one and then you will work harder.

But this isn’t fun. I’m not having any fun right now.

Then you did something wrong.

But what?

You need to figure that out. But I’ll give you a hint. It’s not what you did. It’s more like what you didn’t do. You probably didn’t drink as much water as you think you did. You probably didn’t eat as much as you think you did. And you probably didn’t train as much as you should’ve.

Hold up. I was supposed to train for this.

I had some valid points there. But this was me. Back and forth. Fighting the negative chatter with the positive reasoning.

In those final few miles of climbing, I wasn’t genuinely having any fun. When thoughts of pending death come seeping through, it doesn’t feel fun. I didn’t like that feeling.

But I knew my mind was playing tricks on me. This was just another ride on the emotional roller coaster that can happen in ultras. I knew it wasn’t going to last. All I needed to do was keep moving and ride out the wave.

Once the trail flattened out, I’d feel better.

Once the trail got some shade and felt a little cooler, I’d feel better.

Once the trail came upon the next aid station, I’d feel so much better.

Spunky Edison to the Finish

I had 2 options when I left Bouquet Canyon:

Make the cutoff time at Spunky Edison and proceed to the other side towards the San Franciscquito aid station which inevitably leaves me with another chance to fight another cutoff time.

OR,

In the case of missing the cutoff time at Spunky Edison, I can proceed to the finish line where a medal awaits me for completing a 50K with bonus miles.

I missed the cutoff time.

When I arrived at the Spunky Edison aid station, it was like an oasis and I immediately sought refuge on a bench. Ok, whoever brought that bench is a godsend. Thank you!

As I sat there I doused myself with ice cold water and sipped on Coca-Cola. A kind volunteer came up to me to see how I was feeling and he told me that a lot of people struggled out there today.

I sat there for a few minutes to regroup and before leaving I ate some Pringles and drank more Coca-Cola then proceeded to walk down the hill. I was so exhausted at that point I walked the portion I normally would run down.

Also, a part of me feels like I might give Leona a rest next year so I might as well enjoy my last few moments with her.

When I reached the road for the final mile of the race I did my best to run down but damn, running downhill on the road probably hurt my feet more than the last several miles.

The sweetest sight was seeing those cars parked on the street because I knew I was close, and then I saw several people standing near where I turned into the finish line area. They cheered and clapped and it filled my heart.

I couldn’t have been any happier when I crossed that finish line.

Hallelujah! I survived!

Post-Race

I checked in with the timing folks so I could get credit for the 50K and while there I received a hug from Martine (Dauntless Diva). She had a tough day too so I think we both needed it.

I walked over to where my sister was hanging out, and as I sat down, my tears came streaming down. My body was exhausted. I was sad I didn’t complete the 50 miles but then again, I wasn’t. I managed to finish 36-ish miles with around 6,700 feet of elevation gain and I am proud of that.

When a friend told me I was doing the more difficult of the two courses, he wasn’t joking. I believe him now. But every race I’ve done this year has been a training run for the next race. They’ve all had their own set of challenges. So all I can do is accept what happened on this day, learn from it, and keep going because there are more races to come.

Thanks for reading!

Thank you to Keira Henninger, and all her fantastic volunteers and aid stations for their well-stocked supplies, support, and encouragement. These races don’t all happen by themselves so thank you to everyone who had a hand in it. And finally, Congratulations to everyone who toed the line on that day!