The tremendous trudge

Here's some photos from pacing Mike Weston at the Grand Teton 100 miler ... I wrote a little bit about it in the blog post below ... but in essence I got to witness a brand new meaning for perseverance ... in spectacular country surrounded by spectacular people!

Starting out around 7 p.m. up Fred's Mountain ... didn't seem so steep my first time up, but by the second time up it was practically vertical

The sunset on Saturday

I enjoyed this sign ... since there was barely 20 of us out on the course in the middle of the night

In the vicinity of 5 a.m. on Sunday and still smiling

The sunrise at the top of Fred's

One of the most spectacular sights I've seen in a long time ... sunrise on the Tetons!

Just amazing!

Loved the early morning sunlight

At around noon on Sunday I desperately needed an hour of sleep, so I asked Mike's wife, Connie, if she would pace Mike for a three-mile uphill road portion of the course, and I caught a ride to the next aid station for a quick snooze. I literally collapsed in the woods - a stone's throw from the aid station - and was in dreamland within seconds. When I woke up an hour later I felt like a new person ... refreshed and ready to keep on movin'.

Mike's inspiring finish ... 35 hours, 50 seconds ... 10 minutes before the 36-hour cutoff time. What incredible perseverance!

A kiss from Mike's wife Connie

A hug from race director Lisa

Sunday early evening ... basking in Mike's sweet success

Breaking the Tape - 100 miles

Photo by Jeff Best

The Leadville 100: Time of 28 hours, 30 minutes. Third place among women 20-29 years, 28th female finish, 225th finisher out of more than 650 people who started the race! 

I'm letting the memories flirt with my mind to conjure up the words to describe the race ... hope to post a detailed description soon. In the meantime you can scan through some of the photos from my mom's camera here. Our good friend, Jeff Best, also came out to help crew and photograph. I'm really looking forward to seeing - and posting - some of the images he captured ... should paint the highs and lows in vivid color. Right now I'm feeling so much at once: loopy, giddy, exhausted, overjoyed, alive!

I received so much support from so many people for this endeavor - there's no way to possibly thank each and every person enough. 

It's no understatement to say I couldn't have done it without my crew and pacers. My mom aka "Crew Chief" showed exceptional skill and deft organization. When I showed up at aid stations everything I needed was laid out and ready to go ... and every need was attended to ... including taking off my sweaty gross socks and replacing them with crisp, clean, dry ones. I got in and out of almost every aid station, except for the last one when I needed to regroup, in short order. Dad was master chef, chauffeur and entertainer, as well as the crew chief's sidekick, helping her help me. Jeff, as previously mentioned, took the photographs, helped shuttle vehicles, provided endless words of encouragement and tied up any remaining loose ends. All three of them stayed up ALL NIGHT waiting for me at aid stations.

Rusty saw me through the two toughest sections of the course - my second climbs over Hope and Sugarloaf passes. When my mind started to dwell on how sickeningly tired I was and how sourly painful my feet felt and how many long miles I still had before me and how much I hated gu shots at that moment but couldn't stomach anything solid, he made me think about all that I had to be grateful for: the full moon, my amazing crew, the tools to dig deep ... and he told me one story after another to keep me engaged ... stories of daredevil surfing, harmless youthful antics and healing. 

Kevin joined me for a long, beautiful stretch along the Colorado Trail at the base of Mount Elbert and the even longer (mentally) 13 final miles to the finish line. Those last 13 miles were excruciating, and yet also wonderful. At one point I felt so sick it seemed like I would buckle over at any moment, and at the pace I was moving it would have taken decades to go a mile, what alone 13 miles. (I was still putting one foot in front of the other, but just barely). Like a true pro, Kevin got e-caps, food and fluids in me and said just the right things to keep me mentally buoyant. Seemingly miraculously, my body snapped back to life and we were able to break into a steady power hike all the way to the finish. The grace and poise Kevin brought to those last 13 miles will not be forgotten. 

Mark and Pam Macy also get major kudos - and a little bit of the blame for this whole thing. Back in 1988 Mark Macy ran the Leadville 100 for his first time (he's done it many times since) and my parents paced him. One of my earliest memories is being at Leadville, watching flashlights bounce through the night, and my mom explaining to me that those people had been running all day and all night long. Part of my motivation for signing up for Leadville was definitely nostalgic - my mom actually gave me her Leadville race shirt from 1988 (see post-race photos ... I'm wearing it!). Beyond being the initial inspiration, Mark also spent a couple of hours with me before the race giving me tips and tricks for how to get to the finish line, AND he cared for my blistered, sweaty feet in the middle of the night. (Mark and Pam were at Leadville this year crewing for someone else). 

A tremendous thank you also goes to all of my Alaska ultra friends. There's no way I would have had the courage to put my toe on the starting line, what alone cross the finish line without you all. From that first blistering cold winter night on Bear Mountain when I came out for a Monday night run to every trail mile since, you all have been nothing but supportive, inspirational and fun. You all made training for Leadville an exceptionally wonderful experience. 

To everyone who called, texted, e-mailed, Facebooked ... wow! WOW! I think I'm going to forget about my birthday altogether, and instead run 100 miles every year. I so enjoyed all the little notes, thoughts, conversations, prayers and words of encouragement. I got reconnect with folks I haven't talked to in a long time - and touch base with those I see more frequently. The feeling of being supported was through the roof. 

Like I said at the beginning, I'll get a race report up just as soon as I process the experience myself. 

With love, 

Amy

Resurrection Pass 50

With one ultra down, the question is: How many more to go? The Resurrection Pass 50 mile race was awesome: sunny day, light breeze, gorgeous course, lots of shade, good company and a time I'm jazzed about. I finished yesterday's race in 9 hours, 4 minutes - placing first among females and third overall. (Note: There were only about 15 racers total, so while this is super cool, I'm nowhere close to hitting the pro circuit ; )

But the best part of the day wasn't my time or the sunshine; it was that I didn't finish alone. Zippy, my energetic and adoring pup, ran the whole race with me. Since I don't know the exact date of Zippy's birthday, but I know he's close to 1 year old, I decided yesterday was his birthday and the run was our way to celebrate. Between chasing marmots and checking in on runners ahead and behind, Zippy probably ran 70 to 90 miles. For that he should get extra kudos, especially since today, when we woke up, Zippy was so fully of puppyness, we went out for a three mile walk. Now, finally, he's snoozing next to me on the couch.

The Resurrection Pass 50 is a perfect first ultra marathon to tackle. The course has a decent amount of elevation gain and loss, but it's all pretty gradual. The trail is in great condition and the scenery is spectacular - fields of fireweed and lots of streams and creeks. The first 38 miles cross from Cooper Landing to Hope on the Kenai Peninsula. This part of the race is unsupported so racers need to carry all their food, water and clothes. I took a small running pack and hip pack. At the trailhead in Hope there's an aid station, and then four miles of flat running on gravel road, followed by a four mile switch-backed climb up a hill, also on gravel road, to another aid station. At the top of the hill, runners turn around and retrace the four miles back to the finish line. There's no charge to enter (the race director asks for a $20 donation), and with such a small field, no assigned numbers. Signing up was as simple as sending an e-mail to the race director. There's also a 100 mile race, which starts in Hope, goes to Cooper Landing and then returns to Hope. Five people entered the 100 miler this year, with four finishing.

I guess, all that's left to say is: Leadville 100, here I come. (Next summer).

5:30 a.m. - getting ready to run 50 miles

A photo finish for Amy and Zippy with a time of 9 hours, 4 minutes

Zippy takes a post-race snooze

Hanging out in the sun, eating yummy food and drinking beer - the perfect way to celebrate a great day out on the trail

Conquering Crow

Running Crow Pass was the closest I’ve ever been to dreaming while I was awake. My vision focused only on the trail, and everything in the peripheral became blurred and ephemeral – in the same way a fish-eye lens distorts a photo. Time stood still and spiraled away uncontrollably. Rather than a fluid, connected, continuous sense of my being, my conscious mind beat in and out like a strobe light. Thoughts became short and staccato: “Fireweed. Root. Mud. River crossing. Water. Gu shot. Keep moving. Ladder. Steep hill. Untied shoe. Branch. Bird. Raspberry. Rock. Bridge. Whoo hoo!”

The feeling is the most insane form of sanity. It’s the razor sharp line between total freedom and bodily captivity. It’s discovering that the secret to running is not training, eating or sleeping – although those help. No, the secret to running is knowing that at any given moment you have a choice. You can either allow the full feeling of the moment to wash over and energize you, or you can succumb to the thudding pain coursing through your feet, legs, torso, arms and head. If you choose the former, you find moments of oneness with the trail and yourself ­ – and ultimately the reason for taking on 24 miles of rocky, rugged, ridged terrain.

Coming across the finish line with a time of 4 hours and 11 minutes - good enough for a fourth place finish among females. Next year it would be super cool - and doable - to shave off 11 minutes and go sub-four.

Pure elation

A hug from my neighbor and fellow runner Hugh at the finish

Hosing the mud off my legs

(A BIG THANK YOU TO DANIEL SHEPARD FOR THE PHOTOS!!!!)

Equinox in Fairbanks

Last weekend I went to Fairbanks with my friend, Greg, for the Equinox Marathon. We did the relay. I ran the third and last leg of the race ... perfect because it was all down hill and I got to cross the finish line!

While the race was great - super fun and a beautiful course - perhaps the best part of the weekend was just having time to chill. We stayed with Greg's friends, John and Tina, who were fabulous hosts. We spent the weekend sitting in Tina's hot tub, making delicious food, talking about whatever and drinking coffee, tea, beer and wine (at separate times, of course). I came back more relaxed and calm than I've been in a while.

Also, it was a great time of year to make the six hour drive (each way) to and from Fairbanks. Reds, oranges and yellows blanketed the tundra, mountains and trees, while peaks were cloaked in white from the season's first snow. September is definitely one of my favorite months in Alaska.

Our team for the Equinox marathon: Lisa, Greg and me.
John and Tina (who we stayed with) and their third team member in the relay
Me crossing the finish line
We were driving along and noticed this reflection on a perfectly still pond

The Nenana River ... we walked down to it while taking a break from driving

Me and Xela

Greg and Xela Xela
Greg eating some blueberries we found Greg

Denali

Mount Marathon

For the Fourh of July Joshua and I headed down to Seward to cover Mount Marathon -- an annual race up and down a mountain famed for it's mud, scree and steep chutes. (The top finishers always end up bloody.) Joshua filmed for Channel 2 and I shot photos for the Alaska Star. This meant hauling a hell of a lot of gear over slick mud and up melting snow. In addition to the clothes and food needed to spend the day on the side of a mountain, between us we had a huge broadcast camera, a Nikon D200 and a few lenses. Here's some of the better photos from the day.

Joshua

Women's race (one of Joshua's photos, he took a few stills when not filming with the broadcast camera)

This was my best photo

View of Seward from the side of the mountain

Eagle Riverite decked out in Fourth of July running clothes

One of Joshua's photos

More of Joshua

Joshua filming Cedar, the hometown gal who has won the race for the last several years

If you click on the photo and look close, you can see each individual water droplet