2018 Tenderfoot Boogie 50 Miler - Race Report

The tenderfoot boogie was not on my bucket list by any means, it more or less fit my time/distance requirements in training for the FatDog 70 mile in August. I didn't know anybody that had run this race, so I really didn't know what to expect. The course looked fun on the map but I was in uncharted territory, sourcing info from old race reviews from runners in previous years. I spent the week before carefully planning out my drop bags and figured I had everything I would need to make it to the finish. I spent most of the night before panicking as I read through less than positive race reports from various different blogs and web pages, playing out different scenarios in my head. The race start was at 5am in Squamish so bedtime came early. I had no more time, I was packed and ready to go and the rest would have to be left in the hands of fate.

Race day morning 
-3am- loaded the car and drove from Vancouver to Squamish (~1 hr), eating breakfast along the way. We followed directions right off the website and found several people with bags and gear sitting at the steps of a closed coffee shop. I asked someone if this was the start of the 50 mile and they replied "I hope so" then a couple people showed up with a table and started setting up a place sign in. A few more runners were rolling in by then. I signed in and put my drop bags in their piles.

-4:30am- I needed to use the bathroom; I asked around but it appeared that there was no facilities. It looked like people were going and using the bushes across the road in the park so I followed suit. 

-4:45am- the race director gathered everyone in the street and spoke about some recent changes to the course and how to navigate through the first section. It seemed pretty straight forward, the course was supposed to be flagged with orange and black ribbon at every junction...you're thinking "how hard can this be? Right?

Tenderfoot Boogie Elevation Profile

-5am- The race started and everyone (about 26 racers) took off down the road.

Now, this is the longest distance race I've run so I was unsure about how to pace. All the big hills were at the end of the course so I figured I was best to just settle in at the back and take it easy. This worked well as we made our way through the streets. I chatted with another runner who had run the course before. He seemed to know all the hidden corners and we went on about 5 miles to a spot where he could have sworn the course went through the previous year but there was no flagging anywhere. We wandered around looking for a flag, by then about 8 people were all around this intersection trying to decide which way to go. I tried to use the gps map I had downloaded into my Suunto the night before but another racer informed me that the course had been changed last minute and none of the maps online were accurate anymore, and to not follow it. I tried to back out of the navigation but ended up cancelling the trail run instead. I then had to restart my watch, knowing that my time and distance would be off for the rest of the race. By this point some of the other runners had taken different roads and kept running, trying to find flagging. A girl on a mtn bike came flying down the one trail informing us that the ribbons had been "taken down." We ran up the road and yelled back to the other racers that we had found the proper route. We then continued on this route until the first aid station. By this point I was mad because all the reviews I had read had indicated the course was very poorly marked, and they were not wrong! Was this going to be my whole day?

Aid Station #1 - As I approached I saw a small table with not much on it - a few pretzels, 6 or 7 cookies, 2 or 3 pieces of  fruit (banana/orange), a bowl of candies and a 10L jug of water. The man behind the table almost didn't even seem happy to be there, I had lots of water and food in my pack so I just grabbed 3 candies and went on my way. Shortly after there was a section of overgrowth that no one bothered to clear out and a huge road deactivation to climb around. The trail then bacame a PowerLine cut that was overgrown and looked more like a garbage dump in places than a trail. It was barely flagged but there wasn't anywhere to get off course so I just pushed on.

The next section went back onto the highway. Finally there was flagging, an arrow tied from a pole to the bottom of the cement barrier that looked exactly like it was indicating to continue on the highway, so I did. About 500 meters up the highway I caught a glimpse of an orange ribbon in the bushes now down about 20 meters from the road. I continued up the highway scanning the ditch until I saw another flag off to the left that looked more like a trail so I had to jump the barrier and descend the embankment through the prickly bushes and jump a puddle to get back on track. I thought to myself "minor setback, no need to stress", but 3 minutes later I found myself once again searching for the elusive black/orange flagging tape. I followed the trail right back to the highway, finally turning around and heading back only to find more people coming my way. I asked them if they had seen a ribbon lately, but we found ourselves once again searching the trails for markings. I could go on forever about non existent trail markings but for the sake of not having a very long post, I will simplify it for you:

- If you don't know this course be very prepared to get lost 

- There are lots of sections with inadequately spaced flags or hard to see flags (some even tied on pebbles on the side of the road) which is confusing when you are trying to keep a pace and pay attention to a trail. 

- There are sections of the trail that are more like orienteering where you have to stop, take bearings spin around in circles and find the next flag, then you walk to that one and repeat.

- After the last aid station the course goes through a mountain bike system with trails everywhere and not a flag to be seen. To top it all off, for the last 3 km they not only had spacing issues but decided to change the color of the flagging... WHY?!

- The flags they used are the same color as old construction flagging in places 

Okay, now that's out of the way we proceed into the first nice section of trail to run. It was a great single track path that had some elevation to it - that was a nice change as most of the race so far seemed like it was on the road. We then got to a section that looked like an old blast site. I scaled over all the boulders looking around trying to make sense of where the trail went all the while trying not to trip and die. There was even one section with an old steep wood staircase missing 4-5 of the steps so you had to jump down and try not to break your ankle. I made a joke to another runner about how I forgot to pack my rock climbing gear. Just as I finished my sentence, a helicopter flew over, and he didn't miss a beat replying "there goes the helicopter, still searching for last year's DNFs." We both laughed as the trail popped out on yet another road. I'm going to pause here to talk about the road.

Sections of this course are long stretches right on the side of the sea to sky highway. They have no volunteers handing out safety vests, or even signs letting traffic know there is a race in progress. You are left to run yourself down the side of a major highway with cars whizzing past at 100km/hr+. You have the option to try to run the narrow soft shoulder behind the barrier or just suck it up and hammer on right down the highway. Pair that with a serious lack of flagging, sounds incredible, Right?

Aid Station #2 - This aid station had our first drop bags! I made the decision to change into different shoes, they were softer and better for on the road. This was the probably the best decision I made all day. As I was changing my shoes one of the volunteers went to fill my water but informed me they could only fill it with a bit as they were running low on water. WHAT!? I couldn't believe it, they told me that the next aid station was only 10 km away though. This aid station had the same limited stuff as the first one, good thing I packed my drop bag with lots of goodies! The volunteers here were amazing and helped in every way they could! All fueled up, it was back to the trails! Or in this case a long gravel road. Then highway again... it was a pretty boring stretch.

Aid Station #3 - As I rolled into this one, I ran into some of the runners that I was chatting with at the beginning. They asked me how I got behind them and if I had been lost. I laughed and said "I'm not even sure how I made it this far, I've been lost so many times" and laughed.  I asked for a water refill and the man behind the table looked horrified and asked how long I had been without water. I explained that the previous station was running out of water. He filled my water back up and I headed back out. My stomach was acting up now, I needed a bathroom. I had hoped one of the aid stations may have an outhouse but as it turns out there is only one bathroom on course and its 50 km into the race. Normally I would have resorted to the woods but the next section was up the side of a cliff and didn't have anywhere to even go... then it was more of you guessed it... Highway! Where are you supposed to use the washroom on the side of a highway?! It was an uncomfortable run to the Brandywine Falls aid station. 

Aid Station #4 - Finally a semi-decent looking aid station, paired with a bathroom! I dropped my bag and yelled my number as I ran for the can (probably the fastest I had run in the first 50km). I went back to the table and stuffed my face with boiled potatoes and chips. The volunteers filled my water pack while I grabbed my electrolyte from my drop bag, filled my bottles up, grabbed some candy worms and headed on back out on the trail. This section of trail is actually very nice, there were lots of people hiking that cheered runners on and were quite motivating. Now, I believe that there was supposed to be one more aid station that was removed at the last minute, so this section would be a 16 km stretch to the next station at 64km. It was a nice section of trail, a wide gravel path in most places and easy to run on... minus the obvious lack of flagging and constant "am I lost" sensation growing inside your head. I was having stomach issues again and had to take several bathroom stops. After passing another runner 3 times and chatting about my issues he offered me some Imodium. This cleared everything up (and probably saved my day... THANK YOU!). Time was looking good -  I figured I was going to clear the cutoff for the next aid station, my legs weren't hurting at all and somehow I was still keeping a semi-decent pace. A few more minor flagging setbacks in this section... one even involved a trail that looked like it was a river crossing, but I didn't remember seeing any river crossings listed. I instead opted to hike up onto the highway, playing frogger across 4 lanes and eventually finding flagging on the other side. I climbed back over the guard rail and down the other side to get back on the course

Aid Station #5 - I stumbled upon a table on the side of the trail with people cheering on the side.
I pretty much was headed straight for the table checking my watch to make sure I was still under the cutoff when I realized... Wait! I know these people! It was my sister and her husband. The sun was out by this point and the last couple hrs had been hot, I was a little out of it, but immediately ran over and hugged my sister. They had come bearing more food than the aid stations, with a cooler full of ginger ale and a domino's pizza and even an Iced Cap! The two of them being well seasoned racers sat me down in a chair and grabbed my pack, making sure I had everything I needed while they filled my water and checked my food supply! With a full pack and a full stomach I headed out on the last 10 miles of the race! Now this was supposed to be the "Big Climb" that everyone was talking about which looks intense on the profile but actually is quite a nice trail. My legs were still feeling strong - I even found myself running up sections of the hill. The hill finally crested and the descent was on! This section is in the mtn bike trails of Whistler so you have to watch out for bikes flying around everywhere. The bonus to this being that in sections it is soft dirt and there are berms on all the corners making fast almost enjoyable! I was gaining energy by the minute I knew the end was near, and I was going to make it!

Goofing Around for Finish Line Pics!

Aid Station #6 - I yelled out my race number as I grabbed 3 or 4 candies. I asked the volunteer how far it was and he said under 5 km to the finish. I said thanks and as I started to run he yelled "do you have enough water?" I took off thinking to myself "at this point who cares?! it's 5km" I ran off into the next section of bike park. I passed a few more people in this section enjoying the nice dirt bike trails. For some reason that I can't quite figure out,  they decided to change the flagging color in this section from orange and black to blue and white. By this point I had given up on even trying to find the flags, and I just stayed on what looked like the right trail, eventually popping out on a nice paved path in what looked like a residential area.  I knew I was close now. As I pushed forward down this path, a girl on a bike rode past me and looked back then stopped. I thought maybe I hit her with my pole, until she smiled and asked me if I was running a race. I told her I was and that it had started in Squamish at 5am. She informed me that I was within 2 km of the finish line and asked if she could ride to the finish line with me. I had been running for over 11 hrs by now so I wasn't going to decline! We chatted and she told me all about whistler almost like a tour guide as we wound down the path. As we rounded the last corner I thanked her for talking with me as I took off.

First 50 Mile Finish!

My adrenaline glands must have exploded when I saw the finish line and released a pre-workout size dose of energy throughout me.  I crossed the finish line at 11:32:06. I wandered around with my head spinning in the hot sun, the race director came over and gave me my finisher medal and shook my hand. I thanked him and went over to find my sister, drop my race pack, and jump (I ended up slipping on a rock and falling) into the beautiful cold water. I went to get some food from the BBQ but there was pretty much nothing left.. surprise surprise. I got a burger patty, a smokey, and a bun at least - but all the fixings and drinks had been cleaned out. They didn't even have water left (which amazes me because there was still racers left on course) overall I was just happy to have completed my longest distance run to date and a great training race!

It was sunny and beautiful in Whistler! There are great views from Meadows park and it is a nice place to end a race. I did spend most of the day angry and frustrated as I believe this race needs a whole lot more planning, but at the end of the day it was still a fun experience!

Brigade Trail Race Report

Start of the 30km Brigade Trail Race

The following is the collective experience of Jenna, Steve, Chris and Brad (Chris' dad) from doing the 2017 Brigade Trail Race from Tulameen to Hope. Your mileage may vary.

Pros of the Brigade Trail Race:

Great to be done!

Steve and Jenna happy to finish
with only a few wasp stings!

• Free entry (we got ours at the end of Fatdog but they have been at several different races as prizes)
• Some camping space is available at the finish area at Peers Creek Rec Site, but there really isn't much space, and amenities are nil, just an outhouse.
• The course was beautiful! (at least when
  it wasn't clouded in)
• Single track! 25 of 30km was single track for the shorter race, with the 80km race being similar.
• The course was well marked the whole way!
• The aid stations were stacked! So much food and drink, even for the last runners of the 80km and at the remote aid stations. Avocados, bacon, candy, pickles, chips! What else could you want?
• Fresh cooked hot bannock at the end! They were even willing to experiment with candies and mars bars wrapped in the batter and deep fried!
• Bbq burgers with all the fixings.
• The finish area was well set up. There were tents with heaters and food and drink, music, and most importantly, bathrooms (portable ones, but we weren't complaining)
• The volunteers! At Jacobsen Lake aid station they fixed Brad's hiking poles, while others were filling his pack and helping him change clothes.
• Lots of prizes! A whole table full of stuff!
• The two runners that were pulled at the last aid station due to time cut-offs got free entries for the next year.

 Cons of the Brigade Trail Race:

Brad at Jaconsen Lake aid station.

• Pre-race meeting was in Princeton, but the race started in Tulameen and ended in Hope. For those of us doing the 30k we spent 3 hrs sitting on a tour bus leaving Hope at 8am and driving down a gravel logging road that was surely never designed for a Prevost tour bus. Both distances ended at a gravel lot 8-10km outside of Hope offering the occasional shuttle bus back to Hope.  If that's not logistically challenging, I don't know what is!
• STEEP! The ups were steep. The downhills were even steeper! Some sections with branches and rocks were almost UN-hikeable, though Chris opted for the reckless approach and ran the downs. Our legs hurt for a full week after the race.
• The spongy ground was nice to run on, but then you remember that the course is filled with.. you guessed it, wasps. Stinging terrible surprise ground wasps that stung you and disappeared!
• The cut-off for the 80km is 15 hours, rather short considering the extremely difficult terrain.
• Weather in Hope-Tulameen can change quite quickly. The later finishers were subject to some cold wind and rain! (not a fault of the race, but definitely need to be prepared)
• The awards and prizes were the next morning in Hope and a lot of people had already left by then and missed out.

It doesn't look that bad right?!

Fat Dog 120 - 20 The Aftermath

Tale 20 - The Aftermath
I cannot believe I made it to the finish line! I just want to sleep. And to never eat again.
The finish line was cooking up food. I remember sitting in a chair at the finish, staring at a plate of food. People telling me I needed to eat. I couldn't. My tongue was so raw and cracked from salt, and my stomach so unhappy from eating for 46 hours straight. Steve eventually relieved me of my duties and ate it for me.
I finished in 46h 35m, which is about 6 hours and 35 minutes slower than what I was hoping for - but I finished! So none of that really matters!

I snuggled up on a thermarest for the awards, sort of trying to sleep, but mostly too uncomfortable to do much of anything.

Post-race banana slug!

We headed back to Lightning Lakes campground where we were staying to have a nice warm shower and get some much needed rest.
The shower was actually awful. The temperature never really got warm, and the breeze from outside was enough to keep me frozen to the bone. My ability to regulate temperature was effectively non existent.
I finally made it back to the tent and passed out nearly immediately.
Two hours later I was woken up by a brick to my face. Or at least that's what it felt like.
In reality it was my husband just trying to make sure I was still alive, and forcing me to come eat.
I love food a lot. But I was in no mood to eat. My family had prepared a delicious looking feast, but it was just that.
I was given a plate of food which I stared and, perhaps nibbled on, for a couple of hours. Then it was back to bed.
I woke up around 5am absolutely ravenous, and lucky for me Chris was willing to cook me up some nice eggs (now that's true love!)
Surprisingly, or not, my legs didn't feel too bad.
Since my stomach was the limiting factor most of the race - I was actually prepared to do a lot more running!
It took about a week before I wanted to eat things again!


I have so many people to thank for making my 100 mile dreams come true...

First off - Chris - for the hours you spent training with me, for believing in me when I forgot to, for letting me run my own race and not actually dying on flat top. For not letting me quit, and for becoming an integral part of my crew :)
My pacers - you guys got me through everything.
Shira - for picking my sorry ass up off the ground, and throwing me under the bus at Cayuse - thanks for being kind of cruel. I needed it. It takes a real friend to watch you suffer like that and somehow still believe in you.
Heather - for jumping in last minute and dispensing avocado like a champ.
Liz - for agreeing to deal with me yet again, for cheering me on, for promising me naps I never got to take, and for getting me where I needed to be on time.
Steve - for being my own personal aid station, for hand picking m&m's out of trail mix, for protecting me from falling to my doom on the false peaks, and for getting me to the finish line alive!
My crew - Especially my mom. First of all - you let me run 120 miles in the wilderness and didn't freak out! You coordinated and organized everyone and drove them around. You were in all the right places at all the right times, and knowing you were there made everything easy (well.. easier)!
Heather, Oliver and Hero (the dog) - You weren't really designated as anything, but you jumped in easily and became part of my crew, and even my pacers! You had beds for me to nap... even though I didn't get to. You kept me fed, and you stood by in support as I lost my shit at Cayuse. I couldn't have done it without you!
Grandma & The Vranjkovic Family - for lending me Liz, and for being the camp support crew! Jason - for coming out to support at Cayuse (sorry for the show).
My Daddy - for not supporting this crazy running habit at all - but still coming to watch me finish :)
All the race volunteers - Thank you for making the race possible, and for cooking us delicious food, and hiking food and water all over the place.

It really is an incredible community of people.

I will leave you with my favourite, and all too applicable quote - "NEVER Again. Until next time ;)"

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Fat Dog 120 - 19 Dawn of a New Day

Tale 19 - Dawn of a New Day
I am only EIGHT "short" miles from the finish line.
I've got plenty of time to get there - I can actually finish this race!
There's only a couple of problems with that..
1) Daylight is coming, and if it's anything like the previous morning, I need to finish this race - fast!
2) What lies between me and the finish line is a few thousand false peaks. Yes, a few thousand. In 8 miles. No exaggerations here.
I don't know how to describe how I felt at this point. Exhausted I suppose. I ate one bite out of everything I had in my pack, but that's about all I could handle. Steve gave me some trail mix, which had some delicious m&m's.
Here's example #999 of how incredible pacers are: We have been running/hiking all night long, I obviously don't feel that great, and Steve is on the top of a mountain picking m&m's out of trail mix because it's the only thing I can choke down.
By the way, I ate about two more and couldn't stomach them anymore - so the rest ended up in my pack (sorry Steve). I wish I had a photo of the food I ended up with. Half eaten piece of pizza shoved haphazardly in the pack. A few nibbled shot blocks. Just gross..
Anyhow, I stuff in my music for one last round of motivation and stumble up and down the false peaks. I think stumble is pretty accurate at this point. Steve is wandering behind me taking stance so if I fall someone is there to catch me.
We make it over the false peaks to the final descent. I know this descent well, I've done it several times in training. I now know I have enough time to finish this race.

As I start the descent I have this unforgettable moment where it feels like all of the energy drained from my body in an instant. 
I am running on empty. I feel like I'm one step away from just passing out right on the trail. I'm worried I won't even be able to stay standing long enough to finish.
Now, you would think that knowing you're close to the finish line would spark some sort of motivation. But there was nothing. I remember Steve asking if I wanted to run, and all I could do was just zombie along the trail. As we finish the descent to the last couple miles around Lightening Lake I remember telling Steve - hold me up if we get over that finish line because I'm pretty sure I'm going to collapse.
I was maybe TWO MILES away from finishing my first ever 120 mile race, and I had no emotion, no motivation. Nothing.
We continue on around the lake - I can see the finish line. Still pretty sure I'm dying.
Then all of a sudden we hear cheering from across the lake - it's my mommy! They know it's us!
Suddenly I become a new person. I take off running like I need to be at the finish line right this instant! We rounded the final corner to my mom telling me people have put bets on my finishing time, and I guess that was enough to get me to sprint to the finish line with a speed nobody, including me, thought I had in me at that point.
Both Chris and Steve were there to hold me up as I crossed the finish line - but it turns out I didn't need holding up at all!
I could even have run a few more miles... I think I even said that after crossing the line!

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Fat Dog 120 - 18 Pie in the Sky

Tale 18 - Pie in the Sky
Somewhere in the alpine meadows and whipping winds between Mowich and Sky Junction I had to stop on the side of the trail and change into tights. Yes yes, my big brother was right. Always listen to your big brother (Well, maybe not ALWAYS)!

On the way to Sky Junction we came across a group of people who hadn't seen flagging in a while, and think we're off track. Shit shit shit I do not have time to be going the wrong way! But there aren't a lot of wrong turns you can take in this section. Steve and I continue on, pretty confident we're going the right way. We finally come across some flagging and yell back to the others, who oddly enough I don't think we ever saw again - where did they go??

The sun is coming up as we head into Sky Junction. My stomach, which shouldn't be a surprise as this is basically the norm, feels awful. All I want is a tub full of gingerale and to get my ass over the finish line so that I never have to move again. And Sleep. Sleep would also be great.
Back to this aid station. I am over 40 hours into this race, I have been nauseous for the better part of these 40 hours. They have pie. WHO CAN EAT PIE?! Even the fast people, I don't think they're going through this aid station like hmm, I've survived mostly on coke but maybe I'll stop eight miles from the finish and have some damn pie. I think not.
Not only that, it's a minimum 6km hike in!
I know I shouldn't be so bitter about the pie. But. Really? Pie?  #endrant
Thankfully they also have gingerale - so I fill up my flask and move right along.

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Fat Dog 120 - 17 Marching to Mowich

Tale 17 - Marching to Mowich
We finally, finally, after hours of wandering the bush in the dark getting angrier and angrier - made it to Skyline! Wahoooo!
The final 21 miles of the race is the last big climb up and over to the finish line. There are two remote aid stations left - Mowich and Sky Junction. By the time you get there - it's longer to hike out than it is to finish. If you start this portion of the race - you damn well better finish.

I get to my crew, and they load me up with food, and my final change of clothes and shoes. Not surprisingly, I don't have time to nap here either!
Steve, my brother, is ready to rock with a full on hunting pack loaded with pizza and snacks - and anything else you could need. He was basically a walking aid station. The remote aid stations didn't have the best track record at this point, so we're going all in!
I stay here as long as I can before the looming cutoff pushes me out.
I've got a bottle loaded with coke from the last aid station. About 5 minutes out I go to take a sip, and as I pop the top I get a big blast of coke in the face. OKAY OKAY I'm awake! And a little sticky.
It's a good 4+ hour climb up to Mowich. It starts to rain, but I'm still really warm from the day. It's a tough balance between staying dry and overheating.
We stop several times to layer and unlayer as the rain and wind comes and goes. We see lights up in the distance and have a bit of an indication of where we need to go. Neither Steve nor I really have a good idea of whether we're moving fast enough to make the 48 hour cutoff time.
When you reach the top of the climb, you drop down into the Mowich aid station. I was convinced we still had a lot more climbing to do, but Steve was sure we were at the top, despite having never done the climb. Turns out he was right!
We're almost at Mowich - we might actually have time to finish this race!

We get to Mowich - it's pouring rain and pretty windy and cold. I'm still in shorts. There's a few other ladies doing the 70 miler around who are in shorts as well. We stop and chow down on pizza for a little bit, until I start to get cold and nauseous and need to keep moving. Steve told me to be a smart person and put my leggings on, but I don't have time for that.
We continue onwards, just 5 miles to Sky Junction.

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Fat Dog 120 - 16 Suffering to Skyline

Tale 16 - Suffering to Skyline
So Liz and I take off into woods as the sun starts to set on day 2 of this wild adventure. All I really want is a nap, I was promised a nap at Shawatum, but I guess I got too distracted by pizza!
Not long into the trail I see this beautiful Chevy Bel Air just off the side of the trail. Kind of like the one in the image, but with flames on that back. Now I am no fool. I may be a little out of it, but I'm not THAT out of it. So I laugh, and I close my eyes, and shake my head. And it's still there! Hey that's cool. So I wander over for a closer look. What a beautiful... pile of logs. Oh god that is a pile of logs.
Moving right along... This part of the course seemed to take forever. It's one of the only sections I hadn't done recently in training, and I knew it was generally rolling with a few good ups and downs. I remember in the 70 miler running through these leafy bushes near the end and then popping out at the aid station. I put too much hope into those bushes. Everytime I thought we were at them (which was far too often) I would get so excited that we were almost there. Then the trail would keep going up and down and up and down and ARGGHHH where is this aid station, how long can 6 miles be?! I am grumpy, and hungry, and I don't want to eat, or walk, or run. I just want a nap.
There was also one steep downhill that I really don't remember ever doing. It still bothers me. I need to go run this section in the light!
I just need to get to skyline so I can finally have my nap. Then I'll have gone 99 miles, so really I've done my 100 miler and don't really need to go forward. Who needs that last mountain climb anyways? I've done it before!

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Fat Dog 120 - 15 Getting Serious to Shawatum

Tale 15 - Getting Serious to Shawatum
When we reach Sumallo I pick up my veteran pacer, Liz. She got me through the 70 miler, when my water bladder burst on my back overnight, and I was stopping to pee every 5 minutes potentially due to hyponatremia. She's also my cousin, and there's just something extra comforting about having family out there with you.
We've now hit the point where I think I can actually make the cutoff times. My crew, on the other hand, was not quite so confident. As everyone loads me up at the aid station, Chris is having whispered side conversations about timing, and how fast Liz needs to get me to the next aid station to give me enough time to finish. Most of which I'm entirely oblivious to.
The day is cooling off, there's clouds and even some light showers, but my body is just not ready to accept that it's cool outside.
Having Liz with me is like having a personal cheering squad on the trail. She would cheer me on even the smallest of runs and make me feel like just moving a little bit faster was the greatest accomplishment.
As we were coming into Shawatum I thought I saw a couple of people up ahead, but I had to confirm with Liz since I'd hallucinated more than a few people on the trail by this point!
This has to be another one of my favourite parts - she's like - I think those are horses! They were not.
Just people. Now I wonder which one of us had been out there too long? Hehehe.

We hit Shawatum in decent time, and the crew was there with a delicious pizza. Yum!
Liz, despite asking to pace me through a section in daylight, takes me on towards Skyline in the dark. To be fair, I was really planning to hit Skyline while it was still light out - but you really can't control these things.

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Fat Dog 120 - 14 Slurpin to Sumallo

Tale 14 - Slurpin' to Sumallo
My stellar crew is at Cascade with a really nice napping set up waiting for me (thanks Oliver and Hero!). Ain't nobody got time for that!
My next two pacers have now joined the crew for the day, and have clearly been informed of my previous breakdown, and that I may not continue. They look so concerned for me as I roll in. Breakdown? What breakdown? I'm just fine!
The volunteers at this aid station cooked me up a wrap that I swear came from heaven. Loaded with eggs and bacon and avocado - it was the breakfast wrap of the century. Just what I needed to really start my day (...at 1 pm)!
Heather and I roll on down the highway another two miles to Sumallo while I munch on my glorious breakfast. She's also carrying a nearly full can of gingerale, and running with it in one hand as we go. Pacers are actually the best.

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Fat Dog 120 - 13 Crying at Cayuse

Tale 13 - Crying at Cayuse

Mom keeping track of me!

I was literally a blubbering mess when I got to cayuse. How do you tell your family "hey thanks for coming out to support me, I'm not quite as strong as I thought I was so we're just going to quit now". I still had two pacers left - one of which was my older brother - who is just getting into trail running and I knew would never let me live it down if he came all the way out to pace me and didn't get to run.
Now I'm a pretty shy person, and normally I'm not a big fan of crying in front of other people - but at this point I don't have much of a choice. There are at least six people there to support me, and I'm in too much pain to go on. My husband is there and alive, so that's a good start!
I sit down and tell them I'm in too much pain and I can't continue. And my tongue hurts so much I cant eat so how do I continue moving if I can't eat.

Then Chris starts doing his thing...
Do you think other shoes will help? No! My feet hurt. I don't want to keep going.
Here, try eating this avocado, does this hurt your tongue? No? Good. Eat more of it.
I remember looking up at Shira and trying to get her to tell my family how miserable I was, and how she just looked back with a shrug. What kind of pacer hangs you out to dry like that?! Turns out, the best ones! She had fully done her job and got me there safe, she wasn't about to let me quit.
My next tactic was to try and trade in my family. Does anyone else want these lunatics in their life? I'm dying over here and they won't let me quit!
There was also this amazing lady beside us waiting for her runner to come in who offered me all of this nice looking food she had. What a great community of people.

I am told that I ate and put on new shoes and just got up and headed back onto the trail, all of my own accord! Which I struggle to believe. But it was only 5 miles to the next aid station - guess I figured I would give it a shot.
Heather jumped in as an impromptu pacer armed with a bag of avocados. Timed feedings became a thing to make sure I ate enough. It was actually pretty fun! I was like a new person!

We made it the 5 miles to Cascade in pretty good time - and I was ready to take on the rest of the race!

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Fat Dog 120 - 12 Downhill Breakdown

Tale 12 - Downhill Breakdown
I am 20 odd hours into this race. I've been awake, moving, and eating for far too long.
This is the moment where I finally realize how insane I am. Now, most people hear the words 'run' and '120 miles' in the same sentence - and they don't need to try it to know you gotta be crazy to do it.
Turns out I am not one of those people.
I am not having a good time anymore. My feet hurt like hell, and I'm too exhausted to run, but I want to run because walking just hurts my feet SO much more.
I'm sick of eating, my stomach hasn't really felt great the whole race. My tongue is cracked and raw from eating so much salt to keep water in me. Lesson learned - salt pills were invented for a reason. Use them. Otherwise the pain is so, so real.

I am done with this race. What kind of person would do this? The pain really isn't worth it. How did Chris do this? I'm not like Chris - he is way stronger than me - and kind of crazy! ...this is what poor Shira had to listen to as we shuffled our way towards Cayuse.
I held out as long as I could, I really didn't want to give up. But everything hurt so much.
Wait a second... is my husband even alive? Did he make it off of flat top? If he's in the hospital would my crew tell me, or think I was better off not knowing? I hope he's at Cayuse because I really need to know he's safe. But if he is there he won't let me give up.
These thoughts had me choking back tears for a solid hour, or at least what felt like an hour. I held out as long as I could, but about 24 hours into the race I lost it. I sat down on the side of trail in tears, in pain, and not wanting to continue.

Pacers are seriously superheros. Shira is the reason I got back up off that trail and kept going. She listened to me complain about my insanity, and encouraged me not to give up. When I had clearly given up she began to agree and switched to - let's just get to that next aid station.
This is about the point where I started to hallucinate. Nothing really fantastic, but I swear I'd see someone on the side of the trail leaning on their poles and we would go by and it would just be trees.
We must have walked most of the 11 miles down to Cayuse.
The hardest part was knowing that my family would be waiting for me, and I would have to tell them I wasn't going any further. That it just wasn't worth the pain.

Early in the race, somewhere near Cathedral Park. Photo courtesy of Alex Gibbs.

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Fat Dog 120 - 11 Nothing at Nicomen

Tale 11 - Nothing at Nicomen
I've been through this aid station in the past, when running the 70 miler. It's definitely remote, with about a 9 mile hike in from Blackwall peak, or 11 miles almost all uphill from Cayuse flats. Either way, not an easy trek in with food for a ton of runners.
After the number of people I had seen drop, I figured the aid stations should start to have more food!
Nope. No they do not.
Nicomen had water, and broth. Then I drank the broth and after me it was just water. And by some reports apparently not even that.
The 70 mile runners hadn't even come through yet! Yikes!
Lucky for me, Shira and I were pretty well stocked from Heather and figured we had enough to get us the 11 miles out to Cayuse. By this time I've been eating all day, and all night, and although I have a great love of food, eating wasn't exactly first on the list of things I wanted to do at this point anyhow.
There was a lovely tarp here with a few people passed out on it. I took that as a cue to lay down and try to have a nap of my own. Now I don't know if you've tried to 'nap' after being on the go for nearly a full day. Don't. My legs hurt so good, I lasted maybe a few minutes before I decided it was best to move on.
I'd say things could only go up, but it's all downhill from here (in so, so many ways).

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Fat Dog 120 - 10 How Daylight Destroyed Me

Tale 10 - How Daylight Destroyed Me
I'm in the alpine meadows. The sun is rising. It is an absolutely beautiful day.
I was told before the race that the sun coming up is a magical moment that will give you the energy to keep going through the second day.
Jokes on me. I was in full vampire mode.
The further the sun came up the more exhausted I got. I needed a nap. Just a quick one at the next aid station, if we ever get there...
This part of the course is rolling, and seems to go on forever and ever. Even more so when you're exhausted and it's starting to get warm again and you continue to think the next aid station is just around the bend but you keep going around the bend to find more rolling hills and more rolling hills and vast amounts of glorious alpine meadows which you can no longer appreciate because you're exhausted and moving like a snail again and just need to get to the next..... damn.... aid.... station.
Fun fact - This is an amazing part of the course to be a pacer on and enjoy a glorious sunrise as you descend down to Nicomen lake. Getting there in the dark is over rated ;)

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Fat Dog 120 - 9 Head Count at Heather

Tale 9 - Head count at Heather
If I thought the gentlemen puking up Trapper were bad, I had no idea what this next climb had in store for me. My stomach was okay, but by no means perfect. It was still trying to weather the storm of the day. Now it's past midnight and surprise, I'm still going! Shira and I play leap frog for a while with a man and his pacer. The guy must have puked at least three times, but he didn't stop moving. He was a machine. I kept trying to go faster to get away, I wasn't sure I could keep it all in if I kept listening to that. I also had a strange combination of gingerale and Starbucks Frappuccino in my stomach from Bonnevier that I don't think was helping my cause.
I had been feeling weirdly out of breath on a lot of the uphills, and I couldn't quite figure out why. It wasn't until we were most of the way up Bonnevier that I ditched my poles and found the feeling went away. Still not sure what was the cause, but it only happened when I was poling - so I gave up on that for the rest of the race!
We make it up the hill and to Heather aid station - which comes sooner than we thought it would - that's a first! Hitting aid stations at night with all the glorious glow sticks and people cheering is definitely one of my favourite things on course.
We walk into the aid station and it's lined with space blankets. It's like a runners graveyard up there. Me? I can finally breathe and eat and I'm feeling quite fantastic.
I bounce into the aid station and I hear this "Jenna - is that you? I'd recognize that laugh anywhere."
It's Brad snuggled up in a space blanket. Guess his stomach wasn't having a good day either.
This encounter was less of a titanic moment and more of an, oh no I'm the only one left - I have to finish!
Heather aid station was awesome. It was well stocked, and the nice volunteers gave us a ziploc full of mars bars! Which I am truly thankful for, because we didn't know what the next aid station would have in store, and let me tell you it wasn't much!
We filled our water bladders, and they had to use a little strainer to filter out the moss which was kind of fun.
We bounced back out onto the trail - I was desperate to get as far as I could while the air was still cool!

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Fat Dog 120 - 8 Bare all at Bonnevier

Tale 8 - Bare all at Bonnevier
Finally I get to the Pasayten River crossing - only two miles from my crew, and my pacer, and a change of clothes! I get to the river and watch someone struggle across it in front of me, arms and legs flailing as they hold on to the rope for dear life. Get out of my way would you, I've got somewhere to be! By the sounds of things I'm also a little hangry. The key to this crossing is - you have to pick your foot up out of the water when you lift it. If you don't it gets sucked downstream and makes it a hell of a lot harder!
I made it across the stream to a lovely little aid station where they ask if I need anything. A bit desperate at this point I say, with way more excitement than I should have in me at this point, "Nope - I've got to get to my Mommy, she's at Bonnevier!", and proceed to run away like I haven't been nearly dying all day.
I am far too excited to get to Bonnevier. I'm sure these are the fastest couple of miles I ran all race.
I finally roll into Bonnevier to a mass of people and a lot of blinding lights. I wander around going "mommy! mommy!". I didn't even consider the fact that there were likely a lot of other moms out there. I eventually found her, and it was the best part of the day! She was there with my first pacer, Shira, and Heather and Oliver were there too! I told them I left Chris on top of the mountain, and they said they saw Brad come through not too long ago.

You'd think by this point I wouldn't care, but even though I really needed a new set of clothes, changing was really awkward. I was sore and sweaty and there were people with lights everywhere and even though my crew was holding towels around me I still felt like I was standing naked in the middle of a field.

Now I've done two of four major climbs, the weather is cool, I've got a pacer, and I feel like a whole new person. I got this. Up we go again! Time for the uphill upchuck - part 2!

Beautiful sunset on day 1! Photo courtesy of Chris. He may have been dying, but he still takes great photos!

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Fat Dog 120 - 7 Cruising through Calcite

Tale 7 - Cruising through Calcite

The source of smoke, seen from Flat Top.

It's dark now and I'm not even at Calcite. There is nobody around. It's finally cool enough outside that I'm starting to feel much better. Why is there nobody around? What kind of animals are out here again? Do I even have enough time to finish this race? Is there anyone else left out here? AHH BEAR. Oh, wait nope person. There is someone else out here - I'm not alone! What. A. Day.

At this point I have my music in. Really anything to help motivate me and keep me moving forward. I wait as long as I can to pull out my flashlight, I'm not ready to admit it's night time - I planned to be much further along by now.
Down and down and down we run...
Aha - Calcite! And they have food!! I slurp back pop and perogies and anything else I can get my grubby little hands on. But it's late, and I feel like I'm going to start missing cutoffs, and that my 100 mile dreams are slipping away.
Some of the people around me have running buddies. I'm flying solo, and a little bit jealous of those who've banded together, but I don't have time to wait. I just need to make it to Mom, and everything will be okay!

Leaving Calcite the trails are still mostly downhill, and by now it is very dark. I'm putting all my effort into trying not to get lost. I don't have time to get lost!
EEEEK! What is that!? Oh. Just a toad. Toad on the road! I don't remember this taking so long in training! I'M COMING MOMMMY!!

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Fat Dog 120 - 6 Farewell on Flat Top

Tale 6 - Farewell on Flat Top
Oh Flat Top. This section of the course is actually one of my favourites. It's a beautiful run around trapper lake, then a bit more of a climb over flat top mountain which has views for days!
I wouldn't say I was feeling much better, but I was at least moving forward. About half way up flat top I see this flash of orange in the trees ahead of me. That looks a lot like Chris' pack. Oh no, am I hallucinating already?! It's way too soon for that! Is it him? Man I could sure use a morale booster. But.. if that's him then he's clearly having a tough day. Well, I don't want that.
I round the corner at the top of flat top to find my husband hanging out underneath a tree with a couple other guys.
If you need some inspiration for a movie - I have a scene for you:
The sun is setting on a beautiful mountain top just outside Cathedral Provincial Park. There are gorgeous views into the valley below.  There is little shade to be found, but for a few stands up ahead.
After a full day of running, the sun still relentlessly beating down upon the runners, a wife is torn between excitement and sorrow at finding her husband hiding in the shade behind one small stand of trees. He's got a ghostly look on his face as though he's been lost in the bushes for days without food.
Wife: How are you doing?!
... No response...met with zombie like nods and eye rolls as if to say 'how the hell do you think I'm doing - you've been out here all day - you tell me how YOU'RE doing)
Wife: I feel like shit!
...Now we've got the crowd going. Don't. We. All.
Husband: I feel pretty bad, I haven't been able to keep food down.
Wife: I love you, Jack.
Husband: Don't you do that. Don't you say your goodbyes, not yet. Do you understand me?
Wife: I'm so warm.
Husband: Listen, Rose, you're gonna get outta here, you're gonna go on and you're gonna make lots of babies and you're gonna watch 'em grow. You're gonna die an old.. an old lady warm in her bed, not here. Not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?
Rose: I can't feel my body.
Jack: Trail running, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me.. it brought me to you and I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must.. you must.. you must do me this honor, you must promise me that you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how.. hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.

Oh no wait... that has already been done.
I do imagine our encounter much the same, except we aren't Jack and Rose, and we're on the top of a mountain roasting instead of in the ocean freezing. 
I tried to take him with me, hoping a running companion would help him through this rough patch, but he was too ill to go forward - and told me to go on and run my own race.
There's nothing quite like the feeling of leaving your husband on the top of a mountain, never to be seen again... DUN DUN DUNNNNN. What a great movie!
Okay okay I did see him again... or did I?

Looking back along the course from the top of Flat Top Mountain.

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Fat Dog 120 - 5 Uphill Upchuck

Tale 5 - The Uphill Upchuck
I was finally refueled and ready to fly! For a whole of about 10 minutes as I started up climb 2/4. Then I realized something wasn't quite right. I've been hydrating lots, I had eaten recently, but I had very little energy and didn't feel all that great. I tried eating some more, but it didn't seem to help. I continued to hike at a snails pace for a little while until it dawned on me. My stomach wasn't emptying. It was too hot and I was going too fast to digest. I couldn't do anything but continue to snail up the hill. This was made only slightly better (and somewhat worse) by the fact I was passing people who were clearly feeling very similar, and some who were evidently feeling much worse (refer to tale title). The distance to the next aid station was only four miles, so I climbed on and decided to re-evaluate at the top.

Running into the wall of smoke on Ashnola River Road!

When I got to the top I grabbed a seat at trapper aid station with a few others who look like the first 22 miles of the race might just be their last.
I also felt like shit. I had 98 miles left in this race. Calcite aid station was a short(?) 10k away, with a fair amount of downhill. My mom, and my first pacer Shira, were waiting for me at Bonnevier, so I had to at least make it to them at the 40 mile mark.
I start to tremble. It's definitely not cold out. I'm getting nervous and I don't know what to do. I seriously consider dropping out. I hydrate as best I can on electrolyte - this aid station seems to be sorely lacking supplies as well. Not a great day to be a back of the packer (but probably a great day for backpacking!). I decide to continue, how bad could it be? I have to make it to Mommy!

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