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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