The gun went off and so did I. I jumped out into the first place spot and it felt good. I released the fear of putting pressure on myself and accepted it. I felt the expectation of it all and ran as if I were a champion- whatever happens now I am ok with, I thought. The view of the road with no runners in front if me was something I knew I would remember forever. After 3 or 4 miles a couple runners started to reel me in and I was fine with that too- I made no move to separate- I knew I wasn't going to win this thing of course so this was just fun while it lasted. After a couple of runners landed on my heels only to fall off after a couple miles, two runners settled in with me for good. One was a friend Bradford Lombardi. We chatted as we ran the long miles towards the steepest climbs ahead.
I was pleased to find my legs felt fresh and light. I was able to run the massive hill regardless of how steep and long as we snaked around the switch backs higher and higher. After about 16 miles of straight uphill running I decided to mix in some power hiking to save the legs for the brutal 23 miles of downhill coming after I summited this climb. The climb was 23 miles long and went up 7500 feet- almost the same amount of climbing as the first 23 miles of Hardrock.
My crew was following me the entire time and we smiled at each other as I made the summit and turned around at top without stopping. Without a hitch I started bombing down the road back towards Lone Pine. Finally I was passed by the elite runners as I reached the mid way point of the decent (about 27-30 miles in) See ya later boys... I was in a grove and felt like I was in a good place to finish well if I could manage to keep running in my current effort zone all day. At mile 42 with the steepest and hardest part of the course behind me I started a long rolling section of road that was closed to traffic and crews as well. The sun was starting to get intense and for the first time I was feeling the sun bake my skin. Damn- I was out of water too. I kept pushing the pace and even sped up into the heat trying to get back to Lone Pine and to my waiting crew to refuel. I made a promise to myself to sit down and refuel, and put on full heat gear (hat, sleeves etc) before heading back out into the heat. I passed David Goggins and chatted with him just before I made it to my crew- it seems it wasn't his day and he was calling it quits. I told him he was a hero of mine and thanked him for his service.
At mile 46 I was still way out front. I told my crew I wanted to get out of Lone Pine quickly as it seemed "wrong" to be so close to where the races traditionally finishes when I had 90 miles left to run. Without fueling up or taking a second to change clothes I was back out in the heat after a few seconds of a pit stop- mistake 1.
As I walked a little, now finally with a pacer (my buddy JP) I was starting to feel the toll. I told him I wanted to walk for a second as I ate a gel pack and tried to cool down. After a mile we started jogging again. I felt bad. I told JP I needed to get some food in me and I wanted to eat, but I didn't tell him how "off" I really felt. After a few more miles I was really light headed and really disoriented. My mind started to race a bit as runners for the first time started to pass me left and right. My crew took turns pacing me (Linda and Carmella) for a mile or so at a time and I did my best to shuffle along but I was suffering hard. The whole 15 mile stretch of flat road to Keeler is a blur. I know at one point I did feel good again and felt a renewed sense of the race. I was excited again! Who cares if I lost time? I was going to get another Badwater finish and that's all that matters- I was certain of it. As quickly as the good spell landed it took off and crashed again. I got the chills and started shaking and shivering completely after the crew dumped water on me- shortly after that I almost passed out. I was getting dizzy, and my heartrate skyrocketed and I couldn't breathe. The crew brought a chair over to me and I sat down- I felt almost like I was having a panic or asthma attack.
I started to walk again, and again I started to feel better after a bit. Finally we reached the next check in at mile 59. The Cerro Gordo section is 7.5 mile climb straight uphill and then back down. There is no crew access so the only food and calories you get during this section are from what you can carry for the 15 miles- I left with a couple gel packs and my hand held bottles filled with water- Mistake 2
The sun was down as JP and I started what turned out to be a soul wrenching climb and test of will. I could hardly move at all by the time we were a mile in. I was barely able to keep my feet moving as JP patiently encouraged me to continue. I was short of breath, exhausted, and almost asleep. We had no food save for some sugary pineapple, and we were almost out of water. I ate everything JP handed me until we were out. But I refused water from JP as the rules clearly stated no muling, and was bone dry by the time we hit the only water stop on the climb- it took 3 hours to go 3.5 miles. I never wanted to quit more in my life than I did then. I knew the climb only got steeper from here and I didn't think my legs could carry me- I felt incapable of climbing at all. We asked if anyone at the check point had any food or salt and they did not- so we started to climb again step after step one at a time. Stopping frequently to shake my head and fight off the urge to lay down in the trail, we somehow went another 2.5 hours to make the summit.
At the top there was an old hotel from a ghost town and it was set up as the check in and turn around point. There was water there but no food or fueling products at all. The medical staff asked me to go inside and sit for a second as I was struggling with my breath. After about a minute of sitting my breathing became so erratic that I couldn't get it under control. My body was trying to stop breathing all together and I had to remind it to start again- only to draw a short breath and start the process over. They laid me down and told me to relax for a while. After about 20 minutes my breathing leveled off. They told me my pulse was very faint and thready and was causing concern.
I was feeling devastated at this point. I didn't know what was going on and I didn't want to continue. I didn't care about any of the physical things going on- I just knew I wanted to quit and I felt like a pussy. I closed my eyes for another half hour. Finally I asked the race official if I could stake the ground and return to race after some care from my crew (as is normal Badwater policy) but because we were on the only section of the course that had no crew access- staking out was not possible. I was warned by medical against the prospect of trying to run back down the treacherous and narrow road at night with no food but they told me I could do it if I felt good enough. I was done. I tried to find a way back in, but I couldn't. I called it "DNF" me... I'm out, I said.
They drove me out in a 4 wheel drive and when I got to the bottom I saw my crew- Annalise, Carmella and Linda all waiting for JP and Me. I felt like a failure. I had to inform the check in staff I was dropping out of the race before I could see my crew so they called a volunteer over to the car. The volunteer was my friend Marshall Ulrich. I was humiliated. Marshall being the amazing man he is didn't say anything- he looked at me and took my hand into his and looked into my eyes. He didn't need to say anything- he knew there was no words to heal my wounds at that moment- he could only make it worse. He texted me the next day and told me what I needed to hear and I thanked him.
I was sent to medical in Lone Pine and was checked out for a while and finally cleared to leave. That was my 2014 Badwater...
Lesson?
Well, if I know one thing about me it's this- I fail. I come up short. I push too far and I have been know to collapse- but I never quit- at least I haven't yet. Quitting would mean I accepted my fate as a 320lbs addict. Quitting would mean I stopped running after my back surgery. Quitting would mean I never tried to run 100 miles after my first DNF- I have crashed, but I always ride again. That Is who I am, because it's who I choose to be. And I will be back and I will be better and stronger than I ever was.
