The Tahoe 200 Endurance Run- 2014

     Leading up to The Tahoe 200, folks often asked me, "How do you train to run 200 miles?" I told people that you don't train the same way you would for say, a marathon. In marathon training you might run upwards of 20 miles for the 26.2 mile event. With that said, there was no way I was going to do a 150 mile long run to prepare myself for a 202 mile loop. I knew deep down inside that this race would be more of a mental race than a physical race. The following is my experience in finishing the very first 200 mile single loop course in the USA.
     Training went very well leading up to the event. I knew going into the race that I was going to do the race unsupported and without pacers. My brother, Scott, was going to join me at some point and he was going to run a few miles with me but I didn't know when and where I would see him. I was looking forward to an adventure and also hoped to share some miles with some other racers, especially at night.
     I flew into Reno, NV two days before the event. The day before the event, I made my way to The Homewood Resort on the shores of Lake Tahoe. Needless to say, it was beautiful. Things were starting to come together and the racers were starting to show up to do medical clearance and pick up their race packets. Folks were pumped up and nervous. Some looked stressed while others looked like they were about to take a walk in the park. I fell somewhere in the middle. During my medical check in they asked if I was "especially jacked up" because my heart rate was a tad high. I told them that, YES, I was jacked up and that would wear off quickly after a few miles. The medical team said a bunch of runners had heightened heart rates because of the adventure that lied ahead. I will say Todd Nardi, the medical director, was outstanding. We hit it off right away and Todd told me that he would pray for me during the event. I certainly appreciated that. With my bib number picked up (#44!!!), I was ready to rock. I was staying at the Westshore Café and Inn and it was literally right

across the street from The Homewood ski area. I would be able to get some sleep and head to the starting line just minutes before the event.
     The night before the event, I ate dinner alone and looked out at the lake and wondered what was in store. I finished dinner, had a quick beer and headed for my room. I got my stuff together and made sure all my i's were dotted and my t's were crossed. It was time to get some sleep knowing I wouldn't be getting much over the next number of days.
     I was hoping to sleep in till about 7:00 AM to bank a few hours. Turned out, I was still on east coast time and I was up at 4:00 AM. Although it was only 6 hours to the start, it felt like an eternity. I ate a good breakfast and called my brother who was coming to the start with his family. Scott showed up about 7:30 AM and we had a chance to hang out for a couple hours which was a treat. About 9:15, we made our way across the street to Homewood for the start. I HATE waiting around before races. There is so much bullshit talk that usually goes on that I try my best to refrain.
     At 9:59 AM, the countdown was on.......10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and we were off. There were about 90 people starting the event and before long, we were on the trails. We had to go straight up the ski mountain to start the event. It was a BOLD start but I would come to find out that we had a BOLD Race Director who wasn't at all afraid of going straight up

over mountains. This was going to be fun.
     Day one went to plan. I ran through the night with two ladies that were strong as hell. It was fun to have some company and it was better to have 6 eyes on the trail. My plan was to run through the first night but after running all day and all night, I was ready for a couple hours of sleep. I took care of a few blisters, redid my gear, got my drop bag and was able to "sleep" for an hour or two at The Sierra at Tahoe aid station.
     I was going to run the next section with Phil who I had met earlier. Phil was a Doctor from Durango, CO and a multiple time Hardrock 100 finisher. We got along very well. We did many miles with each other over the course of the 202 miles but I think he was a bit stronger than me and I didn't feel like keeping up. Therefore, before long, I was alone again. I ran with another runner for awhile but found my own rhythm on the second day. My goal was to make it to Heavenly by night two. This was a sleep station and I was "all in" to get there day 2. Getting to Heavenly was a bitch and I was tired. Two other runners caught up to me miles out from the aid station and I was in rare form. I was like "where in the fuck is this aid station?" and "when are we going to get to this damn aid station?" and "FUUUUUUCK". After listening to me cuss like a sailor for an hour or so, the Asian runner behind me finally said "where is your sense of humor?" His question struck a cord in me and I wondered what the answer was to that question. I was in "get to the aid station mode" which meant I was hungry, thirsty and tired. We finally made it to the Heavenly aid station and before long, I was counting sheep. The folks who manned the aid station woke me up 1.5 hours after I had fallen asleep. I was ready to tackle the second half of the course and I was confident I could finish this race!
     The next day, I was ready to go alone and try my best to get to The Martis Peak aid station which would get me 149 miles into the 202 mile race. I was now "running" about 2 miles per hour and my feet were painful. I was also starting to have some knee pain but I knew it was nothing serious. It was just my body giving me signs that I was pushing a bit hard. Dammit, I wanted to push hard. I wanted to embrace the pain just as I embraced the beautiful views and moments of clarity.
     I had a surprise waiting for me about two miles outside of Tunnel Creek. My brother had shown up and was ready to get some miles in with me. Scott took me right to the aid station. The aid stations were much better as the race progressed. the runners were

starting to show signs of sleep deprivation and the weirdness was starting to take place. After talking with the folks at the aid station for a few minutes, my brother and I were gone.
     As Scott and I ran, I was starting to see how tired I was. The miles were going much slower and my attitude went to shit. My brother got to see the worst in me. Long ultra's bring out the best and worst in you. I was glad it was my brother who saw the worst because he can handle it and he can see through me. As we pushed along the trail, I was in rare form. I was so tired that I was starting to fall asleep while running. I was going from one side of the trail to the other. I knew that I needed to stop. I told Scott that I needed to take a break and so I put on my warmest clothes and fell asleep, off the trail for about 20 minutes. I woke up refreshed a little but knew it was still going to be a struggle to get to The Martis Peak aid station that night. A few miles out, I had had it. I had kicked my toes on rocks and stumps one too many times! After hitting my toe one more time, I turned around and swung my trekking pole into a tree and shattered it in half. The poles sucked (too many moving parts) and were giving me problems. I had had enough. I believe my brother was happy it wasn't him I hit because he thought it might have been after looking at me a couple times.
     We made it to The Martis Peak Aid Station and I was a wreck. I was seriously considering dropping here because I just didn't know if I had another 50 miles in me. It was certainly the low point of my race. Once I got to sleep, my brother left. He was cold and not prepared to sleep through the night and frankly I didn't blame him a bit for wanting to get back to a warm bed. At this point, I had serious chaffing from having huge thighs, a rash on my ass because I had run out of toilet paper and was using grass and leaves in the woods. Also, my feet were blistered (again) and my attitude was shot. I knew it was time to "dig deep" if I wanted to continue. 
     When the aid station folks attempted to wake me up, I told them to leave me alone and let me sleep as long as I wanted. I went back to "sleep" in the wall tent but was kept up by two runners talking to each other in baby voices. They literally were driving me crazy and I knew it was my time to go. I put on new clothes, re taped my feet and packed up my gear. I went up to the guys at the aid station and told them I was going to continue and see what I could do. They were pumped that I was going to make the effort and they built me up before I left. They said many people dropped the night before. I was not one of them and I had a new determination to finish this race. After 5 hours at the aid station, I was on the trail.
     I was heading for Tahoe City which was 170 miles into the race. I was moving the slowest I had the whole race at about 27 minutes per mile. Please remember there was over 40,000 feet of elevation gained over the 202 miles. My body was depleted and "talking to me" at every turn. I was now taking a lot of pain meds and fighting through the miles. As I got closer to Tahoe City, I was put out on a street which led to the aid station. the hard surface of the street was crushing me and I was pretty sure that I now looked like a 87 year old man. I made it to the aid station and felt ok. I took enough pain meds to kill an elephant (again) and had a nice man take care of all my blisters. I finally ate some real food which did wonders for me.
     At this point I was over 170 miles into the race and I knew I was going to finish. I found out that some of the staff at the aid stations had their own opinions about whether I would finish or not. It always amazes me when others feel they know me enough to know when I will quit or continue. With all due respect, these people don't know me and have no clue about what my body can handle. They might know what should happen to the average person, but then again, i'm not your average person. You see, I saw my Mom fight Cancer for years. She showed me how to fight. I lost her but I have her spirit in me and I'm a fighter. I know well the difference between being HURT and being UNCOMFORTABLE and I was not hurt. I was on a mission to finish and I now promised myself that I would run the remaining 30 miles without stopping. We "only" had 100 hours to finish the route and I didn't want to start playing the "cutoff game". I had done that at The Iditarod Trail Invitational and it was not fun. Therefore, I was committed to finishing strong. I left the aid station more an animal than a human.
     Moving from Tahoe City to Rideout, I was doing pretty well. I started sharing some miles with a lady named Tina  and her pacer, Brian who were both fun

people. I really enjoyed my time with them and we were clicking off miles. Just before getting to the Rideout aid station, we came to a very confusing junction. There were two routes which you could travel and neither of them were marked. Brian even went down one of the routes but didn't see any flagging. Therefore, Tina called Candice Burt (race director) and asked what we should do? Candice said either way would work so we marked the course with tape and glow sticks so that other runners wouldn't have the same problems with route finding, especially with night falling. Through these minor troubles, I noticed Tina didn't lose her mind. She just got though each problem and kept going. In other words, I learned a lot from Tina. Come to find out, Tina had perfected her ultra skills in over 68 ultras over the years including 5 Hardrock 100 finishes. It doesn't  http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Tina&lname=Ure It take a genius to realize I was sharing the trails with a legend and she was all that and a bowl of soup. The three of us made it into the Rideout aid station which was the last aid station before the finish. My plan was to sleep for a few hours but feeling the energy of the checkpoint and "smelling the barn", I only stayed at the aid station for about 1/2 hour. I had made a new friend throughout the race and Yassine Diboun gave me a ton of encouragement just at the right times.

He was at the last aid station and was spurring me onto a strong finish. Right before leaving, I looked over at Tina to see if her and Brian were ready to go. It looked like they were going to be a few more minutes so I took off. I had a feeling I would see them again.
     Now I was over 190 miles into the race. I had left The Rideout Aid Station at 7:00 PM and wanted to finish the race by 2:00 AM at the LATEST. After awhile, I saw Tina and Brian again and we stated clicking off the miles. I can honestly say that I wouldn't have finished as strong had it not been for Tina and Brian. They were very efficient in the mountains and we made a nice little team for the last few miles. Before long, we were at a homemade sign which said, 200 miles in, only 2 to go. WOW. This was going to end. This adventure was coming to a close. Tina finshed a few minutes before me and I got to cross the finish line at 12:59 AM. I had taken 86 hours and 59 minutes to finish The Tahoe 200. That was good enough to put me in 32nd place out of roughly 90 folks who started the race. I was thrilled. I stayed up to watch a few more finishers before I went to get some sleep. The following afternoon, I watched all the last finishers come across the finish line. The last finisher, Koichi Takeishi came stumbling down the mountain as everybody cheered. He crossed the finish

line at 99 hours, 59 minutes and 56 seconds. It was one of the coolest things I've even witnessed in sports. It was THE WAY this race was supposed to end. It was EPIC in every way and I'm so proud to be a finisher of this race. The folks I met during the race were world class folks. These are the folks I like to be around. These are the folks that take hits and come back stronger. These are my people and this is my kind of race. Yee MOTHER FUCKING Haw!