Grin and "Bear" it: My First 100

When I first heard about the sport of ultra running, I thought it was a joke. I had just started running marathons, and I thought 26.2 miles was the ultimate distance. I didn't realize anything existed beyond that. 

One day I was visiting my parents and commented on a shirt my dad was wearing. It had the Bear 100 logo on the front. I asked him about it. His reply? "Oh, it's a crazy 100 mile race through the mountains that I help out with Ham Radios."

Our conversation went something like this...

Me: so it's a bike race?

Dad: no. It's a foot race. 

Me: oh, so it's a relay?

Dad: no. 

Me: (silence, followed by my jaw dropping) Oh. 

I couldn't understand how someone could run that far, let alone want to. 

Fast forward a few years. My marathon times were getting faster and faster. I could finally run a marathon under 4 hours. I wanted to keep challenging myself, but I wasn't sure I could go any faster. Maybe I should try going farther instead? My thoughts turned to my dad's t-shirt. One hundred miles still seemed way too crazy, but I took some wise advice and signed up for the Antelope Island 50k in 2013. I figured it would give me a taste of ultra running to see how I liked it. The day of the race was my first time on a trail. I absolutely fell in love with it and finished in a respectable 5:49. 

So I proved I could run 50k. The next question was whether or not I could run 50 miles. I signed up for the 50 mile Buffalo Run (also on Antelope Island) in early 2014.  The result: I finished in 10:05 and enjoyed every minute. 

So what was next? My thoughts turned again to my dad's shirt. Could I possibly run that far? I finally decided that the only way to find out was to try. So I set my sights on the 100 mile distance... But not just any 100. It had to be The Bear. 

I registered for the event and began a long summer of what I thought was adequate training. I also registered for El Vaquero Loco (50k) as I thought it would be a good training event in the mountains. The day of El Vaquero Loco finally came. I had never seen such a beautiful course...but it kicked my tail. It took me nearly 9 hours to complete it. I was frustrated. How could I handle 100 miles in the mountains if a 50k beat me up so badly? After speaking with some friends, I came up with a more aggressive training plan. I had 6 weeks to train and 1 week to taper. So, I hit it hard for 6 weeks and hoped it was enough. 

The closer the Bear got, the more nervous I became. I had no pacers, no crew, and didn't know how I was going to pull it off in my own. Then, angels were sent to my rescue. Two friends contacted me and offered to pace me. Larry Adams and Missy Berkel. Not only that, Missy also said she would bring Ann Hilton Stockham along to help pace. I was overwhelmed with gratitude, and my anxiety began to fade. 

Race weekend approached. I attended the pre-race briefing, grabbed a pizza in Logan, then spent the night at my parents house. I woke up feeling unusually calm and ready to get to work. 

The race kicked off promptly at 6:00 a.m.  I kicked on my headlamp and headed out into the darkness. As the mass moved down the street, around the corner, and up the hill, I hung back a bit so I wouldn't get caught too far up the Congo line in a pace I couldn't sustain when we hit the single track up the mountain. 

As the miles clicked off and the first light of morning came, we were treated with beautiful views of the valley below. By the time I made it to the ridge, it brought a few tears to my eyes. I was so thankful for the health and strength I had that allowed me to experience the beautiful mountains this way. 

After playing leapfrog with a guy in a kilt for awhile, I made it to the first aid station at mile 10.5 where I was rewarded with snacks and beverages. After a brief 30 second stop, I was back on the trail again, anxious to cover the next section of the course which I knew would include several miles of downhill through beautiful trees. It did not disappoint. The next section flew by, and before I knew it I had arrived at the Leatham Hollow aid station at mile 19.6. 

By this point, it was getting quite warm. I took a minute to fetch the drop bag I had waiting for me there and drenched myself in sunscreen. Then I topped off my water in my pack, pulled out a ziplock bag, and filled it with snacks from the main aid station table (pumpkin chocolate chip bread, PB&J sandwich, chips, grapes, etc). I checked out of the aid station and followed the dirt road up the canyon to the next aid station 3 miles away. I used the uphill sections to hike and eat my snacks and ran the downhill and the flats. I arrived at the next stop, Richards Hollow, feeling good but hot. A volunteer there gave me a wet wipe to clean the salty sweat off my face and then handed me more sunscreen. It felt so good to have a clean face again. 

The next section of the course was a little over 7 miles. I continued my strategy of eating snacks while hiking uphill and then running the descents, making sure to stay hydrated in the heat. When I arrived at the Cowley Canyon aid station about mile 30, a volunteer topped off my water with ice. It was the best thing ever. I filled my snack bag again and headed out again gulping that cold water. 

The next aid station was Right Hand Fork at mile 36.9, where I looked forward to seeing my crew for the first time. About halfway through this section, the sun finally went behind a cloud. It felt so good not having that hot sun beating down on me that I suddenly found my second wind. I was running, passing people, and generally just enjoying myself. I was greeted at the next stop to cheers from my crew. It was so good to see them. While I went to the bathroom, Missy and Ann topped off my water with ice again and filled my sandwich bag with more snacks. Then they sent me on my way, reminding me to stay hydrated and keep eating. 

I really don't remember much about the next section. I was still on a high from seeing my crew and feeling their energy. When I arrived at the next aid station at mile 45.2, I couldn't believe how good I felt. Missy and Ann were there waiting for me, and Missy was ready to start pacing me. They fetched my drop bag with my night gear and worked on restocking my pack while I changed into a long sleeved shirt. I was not ready to put on any if my other warm gear yet, so Ann packed it up to transport it to the next aid station at Tony Grove. I grabbed my headlamp. Then as we were getting ready to leave, the winds hit, and it started to sprinkle. We threw on our ponchos/garbage sacks and thought we would get drenched, but the rain stopped after about 2 minutes. So we took off our ponchos and continued in our way. 

It was fantastic having Missy accompany me for the next two sections of the course. Although we went through some tough climbs, I barely noticed it as we moved along, chatting, burping, and giggling. Upon arrival at Tony Grove, Missy and Ann went to work organizing my gear while I went to the bathroom. Then they sat me down in a chair and had me change my socks while several others shielded me with a blanket while I took of my running skirt and wiggled into some tights. After a cup of broth and a turkey sandwich, we were back on the trail again. 

The next section from mile 51.8 to 61.5 was fairly uneventful. I began to feel a little sleepy, so Missy cracked open the can of Coke she was carrying and we both took several swallows. It provided a much needed pick-me-up, and after a quick stop in the bushes to go potty and apply some Vaseline to a chaffed bum, we bounced down the trail again giggling and burping. 

When we arrived at Franklin Trailhead at mile 61.5, Ann was waiting. I had kicked my ankle several times and had developed a tiny sore spot, so Missy sat me down in a chair and taped up my ankle while Ann and others fetched food for me. It was like being part of a Nascar pit crew. Then I said goodbye to Missy and took off down the trail with Ann. 

It was during this next section that the rain/mudfest began. About halfway to Logan River at mile 68.8 that the heavens unleashed and the rain started pouring down. Luckily we got our ponchos on just in time. Unfortunately, it really slowed our pace having to deal with the rain and mud. We arrived at the next aid station and took shelter for a few minutes while I enjoyed more broth and a grilled cheese sandwich. At this point, I was still pretty warm and was wearing only tights, a long sleeved shirt, and a plastic poncho. 

We headed back out into the storm and made our way to the next aid station at Beaver Lodge, mile 75.9. I seriously could not believe how good I felt. We arrived shortly after 5:00 a.m. and we're welcomed with cheers from our crew and friends. My next pacer, Larry Adams was waiting with a smile and lots of energy. My crew sat me down and removed my shoes and socks to check for damage. We found a blister on my toe. So Missy went to work cleaning up the blister while Larry washed and dried my feet and Ann fetched more broth and snacks. In no time, I was out the door again. 

Up until this point, I was still pretty warm, and knowing that dawn was coming shortly, I opted not to take a jacket or gloves, as I had not used them all night. (In hindsight, that was a mistake. The constant rain eventually cooled my body, and I got cold.) So far the rain and mud were little more than an annoyance. I had no idea it would get worse...much worse. 

Larry was a great pacer. We're made fantastic time over the next few miles. Then the mud got bad. Really, really bad. It was so ridiculously bad that you just had to laugh it off so you wouldn't get frustrated. By the time we reached the final aid station at mile 92.5, I was really wishing I had not left my gloves and jacket with my crew. I knew I needed to warm my body, so I sat down for a minute by a heater and asked a volunteer if they had a spare garbage sack I could have to wear as an extra layer. They fetched one for me and proceeded to cut a hole in it for my head. As I headed back out in the trail, I could tell it helped immensely. 

Unfortunately the mud was unforgiving and slowed my pace down to a literal crawl. I fell more times than I could count that last stretch as I walked/slid nearly the rest of the way to the finish. 

Yes, I eventually made it to the finish line (a few hours later than I originally thought), but I was greeted with cheers from family and friends. The best feeling ever! Overall, the Bear 100 was a great experience, and I learned a lot about myself. 

#1.  I can do hard things. 

#2.  Having a good attitude will get you through some really tough times.

Many, many, many thanks to my wonderful team and to my family and friends supporting me from home. I could not have done this without you!