Showing posts with label Badwater Ultramarathon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Badwater Ultramarathon. Show all posts

Thursday, June 30, 2011

11 days and counting...

This morning I slept in. Last night I got home from the sauna absolutely exhausted. I realized that I have not slowed down yet, and it's time to do that...

Fortunately my pile of equipment that I still have to organize and pack comes down to this, which is really not that much. One more duffel bag and I should be done. I hope to do that today. I'm thankful for Southwest Airlines and their generous bag limits.

Yesterday I worked for four hours in the morning, then I gave a presentation to the awesome people at Patient Business Services, who raised $2,011 in their department for the Save Change initiative. They are an enthusiastic group and I enjoyed it. Shannon and Teresa have been incredible supporters and I appreciate them so much, I can't thank you two enough for all your hard work.

Afterwards I went over to the sauna, because it wasn't hot enough outside at 97 degrees. When I got home, I ate something, spent some time with the Buffaloes, and was in bed by 8 pm.

All I have left for training are short little runs. I am going up to do a small number of Rock Repeats, no more than 3, sometime in the next few days as a "memory run" for my quads, but that's it. An hour a day the rest of the week in the sauna, two and a half more 12 hour shifts at work, and making up my shopping list with quantities of items we'll need to buy in Las Vegas, and then I can take time to smell the flowers.

Only 11 days!

Saturday, June 25, 2011

About my upcoming adventure


This post is a copy of an e-mail that I will be sending to a large number of people in the community before I leave for Death Valley on July 8th. It explains how to follow me, why I'm doing it, how to support me, and a few other important details.

Dear Friends,

I will be running in the 135 mile Badwater Ultramarathon across Death Valley again this year, and I have added an extra "twist" to my journey this time that I want to share with you. The race starts at Badwater, the lowest point in the western hemisphere at 282 feet below sea level, and runs across Death Valley, crosses 3 mountain ranges, and finishes at 8300 feet elevation on Mount Whitney.

The race begins for me at 8 am Pacific Daylight Time on Monday, July 11th. My race bib number is 72. There will be a webcast at the official race website. There will also be postings on Twitter and Facebook, if you search for Badwater Ultramarathon. You can keep track of my efforts there, until the official race is finished for me, by 8 am Wednesday July 13th.

My plan this year does not stop at the finish line at Whitney Portal at 135 miles. When I arrive at the finish line, there will be the usual photographs, awarding of the belt buckle, and celebration for each finisher and their crews. But we won't hang out too long.

We will continue back to Badwater, with a climb of Telescope Peak, the highest point in Death Valley at 11,000 feet, on the way back. The total length of this journey is approximately 285 miles, with roughly 24,000 feet of vertical gain and the same amount of descent, over 6 days. I will be finished by mid-day on July 17th. During our return trip, there will be Facebook and Twitter updates from the PVHS Foundation as we go along. The crew will send updates whenever we have Internet access and cell phone coverage (not consistent in Death Valley) and these will be posted here at my blog http://alenegonebad.blogspot.com , as well as on Facebook, and the Foundation's blog.

This is a different journey than the route that has been taken as the traditional "Badwater double" route to the small handful of people who have ever done multiple crossings on the Badwater course. That traditional route has included Mount Whitney, highest point in the lower 48 states.

When I first told a few people with longtime ties to the Badwater race, I was met with some skepticism and questions like, "You should do Mount Whitney", or "It's not REALLY a double unless you do Mount Whitney." "This run is about going from lowest to highest".

Well, I'm not like everyone else. I'm not doing this to compare myself to others or follow anyone else's tradition. My journey is about crossing the desert, and that's one of the reasons why I've chosen Telescope Peak.

Anyone who has been through cancer can tell you that their own journey is not like anyone else's.

I'm doing this in support of the Poudre Valley Cancer Center project, raising funds to build a comprehensive cancer center in the Fort Collins community. This Cancer Center has been envisioned and planned by local cancer survivors, and will provide top-quality medical and wellness services in a facility that will serve the needs of people impacted by cancer, for prevention, diagnosis, treatment, post-treatment, and getting back to a healthy, thriving,active life.

The Cancer Center is important to me because it will provide a link between the often disjointed steps along the journey from a cancer diagnosis to treatment to moving beyond treatment and regaining health and wellness, something that is a difficult process for many.

Recently a group of several cancer survivors and a few others were in a meeting, talking with a local artist who wants to build a sculpture for the cancer center. As we were discussing the sculpture, a common theme was the transition from being hunched over and withdrawn, wrapped up deep within oneself, to healing and growing through care and treatment, reaching out past one's own self, and finally reaching out wide, arms outstretched to the sky, welcoming all that life has to offer and living every day to the fullest.

My philosophy is to live each day as an adventure, and to make the most of every day. I plan to do this as long as I have my health. Running across the desert in some ways is a metaphor for going through cancer treatment. But the "trip through hell" for me is by choice. For others, their trip through hell is not by choice, and it's real. They can't stop at the finish line, because there is no finish line except for hope.

Even after cancer treatment, life has changed forever, and the trip back to wellness is as much a double crossing of the desert as navigating across through cancer treatment the first time is. The Cancer Center will provide resources to ease the transition into survivorship, wellness, and thriving beyond cancer. No one does this alone, it requires a team of dedicated, positive people to help.

My run is also entirely a team effort, I could not do this alone. I have a fantastic crew of 5 people, Stephanie Willingham, my crew chief, my brother Nathan Nitzky, Ed Green, Felix Wong, and Dan McGlothlin. Training has been going well. 120+ mile weeks, hours in the sauna, and trips to Florida and Arizona to run in the heat have all been part of the preparation for this year's run.

Some people have asked what else they can do to help me with my run. The best way to help me is to support the building of the cancer center, with donations to the PVHS Foundation, and by spreading the word. Messages of support are always welcome, I apologize that I won't be able to answer any e-mails until I get back to Fort Collins, but I will be able to receive them when I'm out there.

All this year, we have been raising funds throughout the community with the Save Change to Create Change initiative, with 100% matched funds by Poudre Valley Health System. If you have not already, will you consider making a donation to the PVHS Foundation, in honor of my efforts in Death Valley? If you already have, please tell someone else about it and spread the word about the Cancer Center. Online donations can be made at http://generosityheals.org or http://engageinlife.org Donations can also be called in to 970-237-7400, or text ENGAGE to 90999 from your cell phone to make an automatic $5.00 donation.

I will be giving several presentations this fall with a video and slides from the trip, and lots of stories to tell. I'll pass those details along later. My crew will be providing updates along the way wherever we get Internet access, which is unreliable and far apart in Death Valley, but we will do our best to keep you informed of our journey and how it's going.

Please, forward this e-mail and spread the word to everyone you know who has been touched by cancer, wants to support the Cancer Center, or is interested in supporting my journey.

Thank you,

Alene

Sunday, February 20, 2011

No reservations...let the adventure begin!


The past two days have been a whirlwind of reservations, a statement which sounds paradoxical to me.

I've spent the past 30 hours or so working on Badwater business. Entry fee & paperwork sent via priority mail, hotel reservations, rental van reservations, airline tickets, figuring out how many Mt. Whitney permits and for which dates. Steph and I have talked on the phone a half dozen times.

Hammering out details for the return trip. Still waiting on a few last minute crew travel arrangements. A few little changes we've made to our plans for when we get there, like spending the first night in Las Vegas rather than Furnace Creek, so we can do our major shopping in the morning in Vegas.

Identifying the still-to-be-solved mysteries, like how we're going to get our coolers home at the end.



True, it is going to be a whirlwind, maybe we'll have a dust devil or two, but one thing is for sure... I have NO reservations! I can hardly wait to set foot in Death Valley again!



I can't count how many times in the past two days I've been doing something else and suddenly I'm running Badwater again, and I get this big smile on my face, and I get lost somewhere out there on the highway, overlooking Devil's Cornfield, with the Panamint Dunes in the background, feeling my searing skin and the sun blasting down on my head, seeing the heat blur a band of waves across the asphalt.

One of my favorite, but most difficult, places on the whole course is here, around 35 miles in, before you head downhill toward Stovepipe Wells. It's late afternoon and the hottest part of the day. It's at this point that the race is about to begin, because you've nearly survived the hottest part of the race and you're about to face a 5000 foot climb on hot asphalt as the sun is setting.



And then the stars at night. Under the black sky with silhouettes of the mountains, shadows of the rocks and sparse little plants, it almost looks like you're on the moon.

Let the adventure begin!

Photo credits: All photos by Nathan Nitzky

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Leaping from the edge of my seat


This morning I had had the best start to my day, an e-mail from Badwater to let me know my entry was accepted for this year's race! I've been waiting on the edge of my seat for the past 24 hours to hear.

I was planning to meet the running club group at the trailhead to run Horsetooth at 7:30 am, but I had to let Steph, my crew chief know, so I made a few phone calls to get a hold of her, and then I arrived at the trailhead just as they were all leaving. But that's okay, I needed to warm up first before running up the big hill by the stadium.

I had a great run on the hills this morning. Ran about a minute per mile faster than last week's run on the same course. I've been limiting myself to about 10 miles a day this week. After Florida I'll be able to really start training.

After my run this morning, I stopped by the post office to mail my paperwork and entry fee for Badwater, priority mail. It has to be there by next Friday and there's no mail on Monday because it's a holiday.

I got more great news this past week, I heard from Phil Rosenstein, another running buddy I know from Badwater and Across the Years, he is going to be in Florida next week visiting family, and he offered to come down to the lake and help Bob crew me! So I'll have two awesome crew members! Plus I'll be set in the mashed potato department. Phil is the inspiration for my mashed potato addiction.

I sure hope gators don't like mashed potatoes.

Now I have to pack for Florida and get really organized, because I only have a few more weeks to get all the little details of life cleared out of the way before my life becomes run, sauna, sleep.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Pink Haze

This morning The Buffaloes woke me up at 4:43 a.m. They were wiggling and panting and all excited about whatever Australian Shepherds find so exciting at 4:43 a.m. on a morning when I don't have to go to work, could sleep in, and the weather is cool enough now that we don't have to go out running at the crack of dawn. It was morning treat time and the Mom of Buffaloes dragged herself out of bed.



Later I found myself thanking the girls, I got started early and drove up to Horsetooth and caught the sunrise. A pink haze settled over the reservoir and the city below. I ran a strong 16+ miles on the hills, running an out & back between Hughes Stadium and the intersection of Overland Trail and Bingham Hill Road. I have to admit I was dragging butt in the last four miles but I pushed myself hard.





Today is a special day because I was able to firm up some race plans that I've been struggling with for next year. The Badwater dates were announced today, so I now know when the race will be held, so I can prepare my crew and get all my planning started.

I also got some information on an early spring race in Florida that my friend Mike Melton directs. The LOST 118 is a 118 mile race in February around Lake Okeechobee in Florida. It's the headwaters of the Everglades. Lost means Lake Okeechobee Scenic Trail. My friend Bob Becker offered to crew me, so I am ready to make some plans for spring! Thanks to my Floridian friends, Mike and Bob!



Never go running without a camera! Never, never, never, never!

Friday, July 16, 2010

Badwater 2010












Badwater 2010 was a memorable, smooth race for the runners and the medical team.

The highlight of the race for me was seeing Jack Denness reach his goal of finishing Badwater at age 75. Jamie Donaldson from Denver broke her own womens' course record by about 35 minutes, the men's winner was Zach Gingerich, who placed high last year. Seeing Jorge Pacheco, Oswaldo Lopez, and Marcos Farinazzi, all contenders for the men's title, gutting it out through the race even though their races didn't go as planned, they all finished in admirable performances.





We treated a few runners for dehydration and a few other concerns but nothing serious, no serious hyponatremia, no IVs were necessary, and we almost didn't have to use the I-Stat. There was drama, as usual, with some of the crews and runners, but it was very calm the whole way through. We were mostly sitting around waiting. We went up to the finish line, went out on the course, and everyone looked good. There were only 7 DNFs out of a field of 80 starters.



I started my week off by going to Phoenix first, and visiting my dad and stepmom. The next day I flew to Las Vegas, spent the night there and got my supplies at Wal Mart the next morning, then took off for Furnace Creek. When I arrived in Furnace Creek it was 120 degrees.































At the pre-race briefing Lisa got inducted into the Badwater Hall of Fame for her contributions to the race as medical director and her two great performances there including her win in 2007.

After the pre-race briefing we had our dinner and medical team meeting and then went through the supplies.










































John Vonhof along with Denise Jones and Jacquie Florine provided foot care for the runners. John's book, Fixing Your Feet, will be in it's fifth edition later this year.

Lisa and Tim went to the 6 am start, then Kim, Jeff, and I went down for the 8:00 start and weighed the runners in, then we watched the start and some of us went back to Furnace Creek while the others stayed through the 10:00 start.



















































We waited around Furnace Creek with no business until it was time to close up shop and go to Stovepipe Wells with all the medical equipment. It was Tim's birthday so Lisa ordered something that he had to share with the rest of us.












Paul Grimm, and Dale Perry, his crew member, both from Colorado.












In Stovepipe Wells last year it was busy. This year we had maybe a half dozen runners who neded oral replacement salts and fluid and they got up and went back on the course. Mark and I drove up Towne Pass around sunset to checek on runners. Most looked amazingly good even with the hot headwind they were fighting, going uphill.






















This year I went ahead earlier to Lone Pine. Most of the runners were moving very well and it looked like it was going to be more of a pack coming in instead of being spread far apart. I got some sleep that night and in the morning we watched the front runners come through town. Jamie came through and she was flying. She looked great.





















Early in the afternoon Megan and I went up to the finish line to hang out there for the rest of the afternoon. It was fun watching the finishers. We really didn't have any medical issues at the finish line either. Tim and Mark relieved us around 8 pm and then Dave went up there to spend the night.










































There was very little medical business in Lone Pine that night, Sally was in the medical room and she got to sleep, too, and Megan and I got some decent sleep.

Really the most interesting thing that happened had something to do with this:












Wednesday morning most of us went for a run. I got an hour and a half run in, in the Alabama Hills above Lone Pine. I had a great view of Whitney and the Owens Valley. Later we went through the medical supplies for next year, waited while the rest of the runners went through town, and we heard that Jack Denness was on target to finish.

We went to the post-race pizza party and we gave Jack two standing ovations when he enetered the school cafeteria where we had the party, and when Chris brought him up on stage for recognition with the other finishers.












Jack said something to the effect of, "75 is just a number". Art Webb had another sub-48 hour performance at age 68, too.






















We all said our good-byes on Wednesday evening, Tim and Lisa and Mark were going to climb Whitney, the rest of us were going separate ways. Megan is going to be the medical director starting next year. I told her I'd do it again in the future, but I really hope to be running the race in 2011.

Thursday morning I drove back through the valley to get to Las Vegas. The temperature hit 125 degrees. Coming home took forever, the flight was delayed in Vegas, then we waited on the ground forever, arrived in Denver late, baggage claim took forever, and then finally ot on the shuttle to parking, got my car, and then there was late night construction traffic on I-25 going north, going 10 mph near Berthoud.I was hungry, sleep deprived, and thought I would never get home. Finally I did.

My anxiety about starting my new job and being able to stick to my current running plans was relieved as soon as I got back. Today I got my schedule for the next month and it's awesome. Today I went out and got all new scrubs, new work shoes, and when I start my new job, I'm burning all of the old stuff. Actually donating it to Goodwill, but I like the idea of burning it. Maybe I will burn one thing, just to make it official, and it will feel great!

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Double Vision: Badwater 2009

This year I worked as a medical volunteer at Badwater instead of running the race. Last December at Across the Years I talked with Lisa Bliss about doing this while we ran laps around Nardini Manor. I'd met Lisa the year before at Across the Years, before I sent in my application to run it in 2008. She's the medical director of Badwater, a physiatrist (M.D.), not to mention an extremely talented runner and an all-around genuinely nice person. I figured with my nursing skills I might be able to help the runners, and Lisa welcomed me on the team.

There is no better place to be in the middle of July.

I flew into Las Vegas and rented a car, staying in Pahrump the first night. I wanted to take pictures, photographs for inspiration to paint desert scenes. I had time to take a few pictures on the way into Furnace Creek on Sunday morning and then I arrived at the visitor center and helped the race staff with preparing for runner check-in. I met up with at least a dozen of the regulars at Badwater, people I've known for several years through the race. This was an opportunity to get to know some of them better.


It was strange being on the other side from where I was last year. All the fuss and high energy and stress that revolves around being the racer, checking in, having your crew pampering you like bridesmaids, all of those feelings came back from last year. I was glad to be stress-free.












During check-in I was the "splitter", sending runners one way to get their mugshots taken, and directing the crews the other way to go shopping for shirts and race paraphernalia from the Zombies. I felt like half traffic cop, half social butterfly. It was very fun greeting everyone.

When Pam Reed's crew checked in, one of her crew members looked familiar, and then listening to his voice, I knew him from somewhere. Then I put the pieces together. Pam is from Tucson, and Rob, her crew member, is someone I went to college with, for a couple of years, at NAU. He eventually transferred to U of A but was roommates with the guy who lived next door to my friend (and ultrarunner) Kirk Apt. I haven't seen Rob in over 25 years. He is now running ultras too. Pretty cool.

After all the socializing it was time for our race staff meeting, and then the pre-race briefing, where Chris (Kostman, the race director) introduces everyone and talks about rules and other business. Lisa talked to the group about medical concerns. Right afterwards we had our medical team meeting over dinner at the restaurant in Furnace Creek. It took forever to get our food, with the big crowd of race people, but it was a chance to get to know everyone.

There were 10 of us. It was a big group, Lisa and Tim from Washington, Kim and Jeff from Pennsylvania, me, George, Dave, and Steve, all paramedics from different parts of California, and Woofie from Arizona. Woofie is one of my old running partners from Scottsdale. And Mary, who is also a physiatrist, from Pennsylvania, who was to chauffeur Chris on the course and stay at the finish line with him to provide medical support there for the last day and a half of the event as the runners finished.

What a nice bunch of people, and we worked well together as a team.

The night before the race started we all got together, went through the equipment and made our plans. Most of the medical team would go down to the start and weigh the runners in at each of the three starting waves. Steve and I stayed in Furnace Creek and got the medical room organized and got our supplies divided up for the boxes we would need later when most of the team would be in Stovepipe Wells and the others would go ahead to Lone Pine for the faster runners. We ended up not having to treat anyone in Furnace Creek. It seemed like it was going to be a hot day but the high temperature in Furnace Creek on race day was only 122. Not so bad.

We moved on to Stovepipe Wells. While I was driving toward Stovepipe, I stopped a few times to check on runners who didn't look good, or people we'd heard about that we were concerned about. Everything was pretty good, but a few were starting to suffer, which is always the case in that long hot stretch in the afternoon.

Once we got set up at Stovepipe Wells the runners started to come in, first slowly, then we got full. We had 6 cots set up and they were full for most of the evening! We were busy. Mostly dehydrated runners, who were down 8, 10, or more pounds. We'd give them oral fluids and electrolytes and they'd cool down for a while and then they'd get up and go back out. We had a small number of runners where we were concerned about hyponatremia, but we were able to fix them and they went on to finish.

There were a couple of more serious issues, one of which was a crew member, where we did end up contacting EMS, and one runner late in the race who went to the emergency room in Lone Pine. But everyone turned out okay in the end. And there was one runner in Stovepipe Wells who wasn't able to keep oral fluids down and eventually ended up agreeing to IV fluids, so he ended up as a DNF.

The runners would come in, we'd weigh them, ask them how long it had been since they peed, ask questions about drinking and eating, and we'd give them fluids and electrolytes if they needed it, and we'd hold them until they were able to keep fluids down, eat, and pee, give us a clear enough urine sample, gain a few pounds, and felt ready to go back out on the course. Occasionally I'd have to keep them moving along, sometimes they'd get too comfortable. And then there were a few runners and crew members who seemed to think the medical area was a recovery room, or a cooldown station, even though their runner wasn't in distress. Then I'd have to be traffic cop again.











Eventually the pee cups started to look more like a tasting selection at a brewery. Interesting colors, from dark amber to light wheat. We had a few colors outside of the beer spectrum, too.


The first night I got 4 hours of sleep. We had a few rooms at Stovepipe and we slept in shifts. I slept until 4 am and then woke up to drive to Lone Pine. I left in the darkness and there were very few runners left on the stretch going up Townes Pass, and the sunrise was spectacular. It lasted all the way until I got to Darwin. I did have to make a stop in Panamint Springs at the store to get coffee, and I wasn't to sure of what might be brewing in their coffee pots, so I opted for two pre-packaged Starbucks drinks from the cooler. $4.00 each, but I needed caffeine bad, so it was worth it. I thanked the guy at the register for putting up with us, since they had the store open all night just for the race. He said, "Everyone has been so nice this year!"

I passed the front runners on their way into Lone Pine and most everyone looked great all the way in. I saw Jamie Donaldson who won it for the women last year and this year. She gave me the thumbs up. She was a good hour ahead of Pam, the 2nd place woman.

Not long after I got to the Dow Villa in Lone Pine, where race headquarters is, the Brazilian runner won the race, and they radioed from the finish line that they were sending him down to us. He only spoke Portugese but I managed to communicate with him using Spanish. Note to self: Learn some Portugese before next summer. At least the basics, like drink, pee, eat, etc. Turned out he was fine, just a little dehydrated.

There was an extra challenge for the mid-pack runners. There was a fire in the lower campground, just below where the finish line is, and the top 4 miles of the course were closed for several hours during the race. Chris had to come up with a creative solution to deal with this, so runners were given an option to finish at 131 miles, or to come back later when the course was open and finish out the last 4 miles. Fortunately the fire was contained and the course was re-opened later so many of the later finishers were able to do the full course.

I learned a lot about the effects of heat stress on the body, how to treat dehydration, what to look for if you are not sure if a runner is hyponatremic or dehydrated, or both...I had a great time, met so many nice people, and got to hang out with so many of the people I already know from ultras.

Badwater has become another family for me and it's hard to imagine being away from it. Chris was so generous and appreciative of our efforts, he has turned this event into something that I think everyone on the staff and involved in the race was proud to be a part of.

Stovepipe Wells was the busiest spot for medical, as expected, it's at the end of the hottest part of the day. In Lone Pine it's been cooler and everyone has worked out their issues, and if they had bad problems they usually dropped out by then. There was a lot of foot care on the last day in Lone Pine, but not too many runners needing medical treatment. Mostly routine stuff. But some of the strangest requests came at the end of the race.

A crew member came in, telling me his kid had not had a bowel movement for 2 days. I felt like telling him to go down the street and get a salad at McDonald's, it worked for me. But I told him to go get something over the counter at the drug store if drinking more water and eating fiber didn't work. Sorry dude, I only play Poopsmith when I'm getting paid...

Then another crew member brought his teenage daughter in, she was sick, probably with some kind of viral thing, with a fever and vomiting...or maybe just dehydration, but I am not a pediatrician either. If you're crazy enough to drag your child to an event like this at least take responsibility when they get sick.

Most runners and crews were well informed about heat illness and took good care of each other out there. It was only a small percentage of the runners we ever saw in the medical station. Running in those conditions can put even the best trained runner at risk but it seems like the crews and runners are mostly very knowledgeable and well-prepared.

The only thing that I thought was weird were the very small number of crew members who brought their runners in afterwards and told us the runner needed an IV, as if we were a recovery tent. That was not our job either, and it annoyed me that they were telling us what their runner needed when clearly they had no clue. They just needed to drink, eat, rest and sleep. Sure we could all feel better after a few liters of normal saline living in this dry climate but IV fluids are just a quick fix for what they really need to do, which is take care of themselves and let their bodies recover. People expect things to be fast and easy. There is nothing about this race that falls into either of those categories.

The post-race party happened Wednesday evening and it was fun to see everyone one last time. I got to spend some time talking with Nattu and his crew, including Bob from Florida. Nattu kicked butt this year, he ran 37 hours, in his 3rd Badwater. We miss him around Colorado, he's been in California all year.

We were all exhausted, so we all got sleep and then Thursday everyone took off for home or wherever they were headed, some to Lake Tahoe, Lisa and Tim to climb Whitney, and I headed back into the valley to take pictures. I first dropped off the sharps containers at Ben and Denise's house so Ben could dispose of them for us. Being the coroner, he has the connections! Then I left to drive back across the course, in the heat of the day.

I wanted to catch both sunset and sunrise on Thursday night and Friday, and it was worth it, I got nearly 1300 pictures and probably 300 good ones. I spent the afternoon at the pool in Furnace Creek and then went out at sunset toward Badwater. The next morning I woke up at 4:30 and got out again to take more pictures along Artist's Drive. Then I drove back to the Las Vegas airport.

When I go back to run Badwater again, I hope it will be to do a double. I want to go back and run Badwater again in 2011, but I'm not sure if I'll actually do the double so soon. If I don't do a double then, I'm making it my age 50 goal.

When I was 40 and was just starting to get my health and energy back after getting my thyroid problems straightened out, I made a promise to myself that I would be fitter and healthier at 50 than I was at 40.

I know what you're thinking. I didn't say anything about being crazier.













There is something about turning around and going back across Death Valley after the race itself. For me, it's like closure. I can't just leave it with my back turned, I have to go back and see it in reverse.











Last year I can remember the morning Ken and I were driving back home, we left Lone Pine and drove back over the course and saw the few runners who were out there doing a double, and I wanted to be out there. I didn't want it to end at the finish line at Whitney Portal. I need to turn around and go back.


The colors in the rocks, the plants, and even the man-made objects in the landscape make you feel like you're on another planet. I know my running friends, even the ones I've known for many years and who share my love of running, don't understand why I love running in Death Valley in the summer. They don't understand how I can want to run, much less enjoy a race that covers 135 miles on asphalt. But they don't understand that this is the most beautiful, colorful, vibrant asphalt in the WORLD!


When I'm there, I have lost interest in how fast I run, where I finish in the pack, and in putting the race behind me as fast as possible. Running here is not an event to be put behind you. The elements are not separate from you, you are part of the surroundings. You become part of the landscape, the wind, the heat, the road, and the colors while you're moving through it. And there is nothing else like it.

This is why I want to go back. I want to see more sunrises like this, and as the day goes on, the relentless sun, the hot wind, the intense colors, the dramatic landscape that dwarfs you, while at the same time you belong to it. You become part of the whole picture. There is no other way to describe it, except to experience it.










Photos (from top): The temperature on the odometer on my rental car, Badwater sign near Golden Canyon, Artist's Drive, Badwater pools, the medical room at the Dow Villa in Lone Pine, George and Kim working on a runner's feet, runners along the course headed toward Lone Pine, the Dow Villa sign that changes colors throughout the day, celebrating the finish with a "Badwater ale", bottom of Artist's Drive, sunset over Furnace Creek looking toward Stovepipe Wells, road looking back toward Badwater, 3 photos of rocks along Artist's Drive, Panamint Dry Lake Bed at halfway along Badwater course, outrageous red rocks going up Father Crowley's, view from Father Crowley's at sunrise, near Darwin with lone Joshua tree in background, colors around salt pan around 5 miles into the course, gold rocks near Artist's Drive, more gold rocks looking back toward Badwater, sunrise over Stovepipe Wells from the road up Townes Pass, Alene at the park entrance.