2013: The Year In Rear View

2013: The Year In Rear View

by Ras

     I couldn't have asked for a fuller or more rewarding year than 2013. It was an amazing year to be a human being. I achieved epic wins and suffered epic fails, exceeded my own expectations and fell short of my own goals. It was a year of extreme highs, yet it was a year of balance. There were corresponding lows that maintained equilibrium.  

     This year I began learning the value of failure. Not to embrace it, not in the least. Failure will never be met by me with a resigned handshake. Failure will always get my fangs and claws. I will only enter into it with kicking and screaming and flailing; with wailing and gnashing of teeth. But in those instances where my best efforts fail to ward off defeat, there is so much to learn; about myself as a specific individual, and about us, humankind as a whole.

     And in many ways failure is the goal. The only way to know for sure that I am pushing the boundaries of my own capabilities is to occasionally overstep those bounds and plummet into the abyss on the other side. So along with detailing a year of incredible triumphs, I will tour you through a few desperate chasms, as well.

      Being chosen as an Altra Ambassador really helped take my running and adventuring in new directions. I had discovered Altra Zero Drop Shoes by googling various descriptions of the features I was looking for in running shoes, and Altra kept coming up. I bought a pair of Lone Peaks and have run in nothing else since. The support and confidence Altra showed in me, a quirky back of the packer, was both humbling and inspiring. And it showed the broad-minded vision of the company's leadership, which includes sponsoring thru hikers as well. And I'm stoked to be representing Altra again for 2014.

     It was only my second time ever attempting the 26.2 mile distance when I ran the Fort Ebey Kettles Trail Marathon on February 17th. Leading up to Fort Ebey I had been running fartleks every Friday, the first time in my running career I've ever focused on speedwork of any sort. My finish time of 05:29:53 for 10th Men's and 12th overall seemed to show that Fartlek Fridays were reaping benefits. Here's the complete race report: Fort Ebey Kettles Race Report 

     I surprised myself with a 100 mile PR at the Badger Mountain Challenge 100 Miler on March 30th. My finish time of 27:17 was a big improvement over my 29:02 PR at the 2011 Cascade Crest 100 Miler. Matt Hagen insists that the course at Badger was a few miles short this year, but I took a wrong turn and added a few miles (with a steep climb), so I know mine was a legit 100 regardless. Here's the complete race report: Badger Mountain Challenge 100 Miler
Kathy gives a Crew & Pacing Report on the Badger Mountain Challenge in episode #001 of the UltraPedestrian Podcast here: UltraPedestrian Podcast Episode #001

     Two weeks later, on April 13th, I set another new 100 mile PR of 26:44:00 at the Lumberjack Endurance Runs 100 Miler. Kathy gives a Crew & Pacing Report on the Lumberjack Endurance Runs in episode #003 of the UltraPedestrian Podcast here: UltraPedestrian Podcast Episode #003

     Seven days after Lumberjack, on April 21st, at the Spokane River Run 50k I set a new 50k PR of 5:35:08. Fartlek Fridays start sounding a little less silly at this point.

     A fortnight later, on May 4th, I began the 68 hour and 10 minute odyssey that was my World Record Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim, that being the first ever sextuple crossing of the Grand Canyon. One of the hardest and most enjoyable things I've ever done, the R2R2R2R2R2R2R got me noticed on a level that I was not expecting. It was not as difficult as my 2012 Double Wonderland, but the Grand Canyon is a bigger stage. And just a couple days after I completed my run, Rob Krar blew the collective mind of the trail running community with his stellar Rim to Rim to Rim Fastest Known Time, further focusing public attention on The Big Ditch, as many are want to call it. My complete trip report is here: Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim
The complete recording of my talk at Seven Hills Running Shop about my Grand Canyon Triple Double Crossing is here: UltraPedestrian Podcast Episode #002
The TrailRunnerMag.com interview Tim Mathis conducted with me is here: Ras Vaughan's Unsupported, Sextuple-Rim-to-Rim
The GrindTV.com article is here: Trail runner is first to complete sextuple Grand Canyon crossing
Ken Michaels interviewed me for his podcast Running Stupid, direct download here: Running Stupid CXXIII (Ras Jahson Ites Interview)
And Ian Corless interviewed me for Talk Ultra here: Talk Ultra: Episode 36 - Ultrapedestrian Ras, Calitz, Kremer, Davies, Cardelli, Browy

     Two weeks after finishing my Grand Canyon run I ran the Sun Mountain 50 Miler. I was still very tired and only partially recovered from the triple double Rim to Rim, but I wanted to run this race as part of a two race project that I was calling the Sun Pig Mountaintails Challenge 250, which entailed running the Sun Mountain 50 Miler on Sunday, May 19th plus the Pigtails Challenge 200 Miler starting Thursday, May 23rd, for a total of 250 miles in one 7 day period. I struggled all day, was DFL for a number of miles, then managed to pass two people in the last two miles of the race to finish in 12:45:01, my slowest 50 mile finish ever. For comparison, in 2011 I finished this same race in 9:45:53.

     Three days later I started the Pigtails Challenge 200 Miler. At this point I was 1/5 of the way into my Sunpig Mountaintails Challenge 250 miler, and 1/3 of the way (mileage wise) into my attempt at completing the WA Super Slam. This was another long-term project of mine, running all the longest distances at all the 100+ mile races in the Washington Grand Slam With Ham. So my goal was to run the Badger 100, Lumberjack 100, Pigtails 200, Cascade Crest 100, and Plain 100. I had run the Pigtails 200 its first year, in 2012, and was one of only two finishers from the first year returning, Ken Michaels being the other. Unbeknownst to me, I had contracted giardiasis from drinking tainted water in the Grand Canyon (completely my fault, and a risk I knowingly took at the time). 

     It hit me for the first time about 4 of 21 loops into the Pigtails 200. I completely lost my appetite, and my digestion seemed to stop working. A very small amount of food or liquid would make me feel immediately stuffed, and would produce ridiculous amounts of gas from both ends. My stomach was bloated and distended and felt over full all the time. Throughout the rest of the 67 hours and 27 minutes total that I was on the course I ate very little. When I tried to lay down and rest on two occasions I just tossed and turned for an hour and a half or so, never getting any quality rest or relaxation.

     When Allen Skytta joined me as a pacer on lap 20, I was filling my water bottles with half Coke and half water, which was all I could manage to take in as a calorie source. At this point I was in 4th place overall with Francesca Carmichael in front of me, putting me in 3rd place for the Men. This would be my first podium finish ever. Then about halfway through lap 20, the second to last loop, Ken Michael appeared out of nowhere from behind us and with George Orozco pacing him. They passed us with Ken giving his trademark "All Day!" greeting. I watched their headlamps disappear ahead into the night, and it just didn't sit right in my mind. Not only was Ken breezing past me to take away my first ever (and possibly only ever) podium finish, but he was being paced toward that goal by a good friend. I suddenly found myself thinking, "No." I turned to Allen and said, "Let's not let those two out of our sight," and started running, trying to match their speed. Allen grinned and slapped his hands together, and the race was on.

     We turned off our headlamps so Ken and George wouldn't be able to tell exactly where we were and caught up to within about 50 yards of them, then just hung on. We discussed strategy for the turn around. I planned on dropping my trekking poles, refilling with Coke and water, and getting back out as quick as I could. Allen told me Ken and George would be doing the same. We were both in and out of the main aide station within a minute or so. Allen had to get ready to take over the midway aide station, so I was on my own.

     I was able to keep about the same 50 yards back from Ken and George for the first two miles of the 9.6 mile loop, on a couple of occasions stopping behind bushes in well-lit areas in hopes of keeping my two friendversaries literally in the dark about how far behind I was. As we were nearing the first real climb of the final clockwise loop, I found myself catching them up without meaning to. I tucked in behind them and matched their pace, running quietly and not knowing if they knew I was there or not. Finally George said, "Nice work, Ras," and I speedhiked behind them, matching their pace as they jogged up the hill. George said to Ken, "If we don't do something now, when we get to the downhill he's just gonna take off and we'll never see him again," but at that moment Ken didn't seem to have anything to answer with. After a minute Ken said, "Ras, I guess we can run it out and cross the finish line together."

     I said, "Well, I don't mean to sound like an a******, but I don't think that was your plan a few minutes ago, so let's just see how it plays out," pulled around them on the left, and ran off up the hill at about 98% effort, and into the rolling section where George know I would make up time on the downhills. Ken and George had doused their headlamps as well, so now I couldn't see how far behind they were. I was running all the downhills and flats as fast as I could and even running many of the uphills. At the midway aide station Deby Kumasaka refilled my Coke & water mix, and I sped on. She later said she could see the fire in my eyes and knew something was up.

     Throughout the rest of miles 195 through 200, I would catch the occasional glimpse of my pursuers in the form of a silhouette on the crest of the hill behind me. I was passing friends heading the other direction so quickly that I couldn't recognize them in time to say hello. I know I startled a couple of people emerging suddenly out of the darkness and disappearing again into it just as quickly.

     I have spent a lot of time running in the dark without a headlamp, to a great degree by feel, so the ambient light of the city of Kent was plenty for me to see by. And although I was haunted by fleeting glimpses of my pursuers, in the end I took that final podium spot with a 1:55 final lap to Ken's 1:57. This gave me a finish time of 67:27:00 to Ken's 67:29:00, and a new 200 mile PR for me by just under two hours.

     The Pigtail Challenge was also Kathy's first 100 mile race. Her complete race report is here: 2013 Pigtails Challenge: My First 100 Smiler
Race Director Van Phan's Race Director's Report is here: Pigtails Challenge 2013
James Varner's 100 mile race report (including a sighting of my and Ken's 21st lap battle) is here: Race Report: Pigtails Challenge 100

     After Pigtails I was incapacitated by giardia. My weight plummeted to 170 lbs. I usually walk around at about 190. Even in the UltraPedestrian Video that Tim Cash made for us, you can see that I am abnormally thin. For all of June and July I was unable to run. If you look at my Altra Ambassadors Page you can see that I had to pass up at least four Only Known Time attempts I had planned for 2013. To this day I still do not feel 100%.

     I only got in two or three short training runs before August 11th and the Angels Staircase 60k, which was to be my final tune up race before the Cascade Crest 100, and the Plain 100 three weeks after that, the final two races in my WA Super Slam attempt. I love this course, and had a great time, but my running was labored and forced and difficult, and I wasn't all that happy with my performance. And it didn't bode well for the two 100 milers I had coming up. I finished with a time of 10:22:51, 45 minutes behind last year's time.

     On August 24th, I struggled through every step of the Cascade Crest 100. I am a very meditative runner. I usually float along for miles, for HOURS, in a zen endurance fog, moving easily, almost on autopilot. But not this time. Every stride, every minute, every step of the Cascade Crest 100 miler was an effort. It was never easy or cruisy or floaty or zen. It was work and pain and exertion and a constant sensation of moving through a viscious fluid, or against elastic bonds. I finished, and I made the 32 hour cut off, but not by much. I turned in my personal worst 100 mile time of 31:38:30 and took home my third CCC buckle in as many years. And I had completed 500 of the 600 miles of my WA Super Slam. But I was not feeling optimistic about the upcoming Plain 100, and I only had 21 days to be as ready as I could be.

     On September 15th the Plain 100 became my first Did Not Finish. It's easy to brainstorm a long list of excuses, but they don't change the fact. I failed to complete the Plain 100, thus failing to complete both my personal WA Super Slam and the official Washington Grand Slam With Ham. It's okay to say it. I failed. Yes or no, did I accomplish what I set out to do? No. Fact.

     The supreme challenge of the WA Slam is that the toughest race, the Plain 100, is the final race in the series. And it is just two or three weeks after Cascade Crest, the second toughest race in the series. This year, when it counted, I was unable to meet that challenge. I did, however, still qualify as the only finisher of the 2013 Washington Grand Slam Hold The Ham, that being completing four out of the five 100+ mile races held in Washington state. Here are the complete results of the Washington Grand Slam With Ham: WA Grand Slam With Ham

     Over the summer we hosted the first annual UltraPedestrian Wilderness Challenge, an adventure blogging contest we dreamed up as one step in the ongoing UltraPedestrian goal of Democratizing Trail Culture. Read the complete results here: 2013 UPWC Complete Results & Awards

     October 5th my entire family ran the Baker Lake Ultras. I ran the 100k and Kathy and Angela both ran the 50k, it being Angela's first organized race of any sort. I came in at 16:20:26 for my first ever 100k finish, Kathy ran an 8:24:23 for a PR on that course, and Angela finished her first ultramarathon in 7:36:11, officially making us an Ultra Family. Kathy's complete race report is here: 2013 Baker Lake 50k Trail Run: Third Time is a Charm

     On October 18th Kathy and I set out to attempt a North to South to North double traverse of the Kettle Crest Range via the Kettle Crest Trail No. 13. Due to significantly more snow that we had hoped, 100+ blow downs across the trail, and significantly more elevation gain than we knew of, we called it quits at 6:43AM on October 19th after 46+ miles, 23 hours and 56 minutes on the trail, and the Garmin measuring 19,000 feet of elevation gain (although I find this number suspect). However, our North to South Traverse of the Kettle Crest stands as the Only Known Time for the complete Kettle Crest Trail No. 13. Kathy's complete trip report is here: Kettle Crest Traverse: North To SouthThe Fastest Known Time page detailing our attempts on the Kettle Crest is here: Fastest Known Time: Kettle Crest Trail

     The Second Annual Highland Halloween Hundred Trail UnRun, aka H3, was hosted by Kathy and I on October 26th. Distances of 42 miles, 84 miles, and 126 miles were offered. This was another of our efforts to redefine endurance and build new paradigms of hominid locomotion. Kathy's complete Race Director's Report is here: H3 2013: The Second Annual Highland Halloween Hundred Trail UnRun 

     November 18th Kathy and I ran the Baker Lake Fat Ass 50k. Our goal and intention was to run the 100k, but after 50k in 4 inches of fresh snow, rain all day long, standing puddles on the trail, temperatures in the upper 30s, rising winds, plummeting windchill, and 11 hours and 12 minutes on the trail, we tapped out. Terry Sentinella was kind enough to give us a 50k finish. Kathy's detailed trip report is here: Baker Lake: Take Two

     On December 15th Kathy and I ran the Deception Pass 50k together for the third year in a row and the third year of the race. Kathy and I finished in 8:21:05 and 08:21:06, respectively (yeah, she outkicked me by a second at the end there).

     In December it was a further blessing to have TrailRunnerMag.com choose Tim Mathis' interview with me as #3 in their top 10 best stories of 2013. Read all ten top stories here: Best of Inside Dirt 2013

     Also in December, I won a Grimey Award. It was an honor to be selected as one of the honorees for the first annual Washington Ultra Grimey Awards. Thank you to Tim Mathis, also to Trey Bailey of UphillRunning.com. And I'm in excellent company. Read all the awards here: 2013 Washington Ultra Grimeys

     What an amazing year and what a Blessing to be alive! Give Thanks for Life!

Digesting Seasonal Change: One Serving At A Time

Digesting Seasonal Change:
One Serving At A Time

By Kathy Vaughan

      Summer has nearly come and gone. The grasses are dry, the wildflowers are no longer blooming, the Larch have barely begun the phase where their needles turn yellow and fall to the ground. I look back at my experiences over the summer and see that they too are entering a new season.

     After completing my first 100 mile trail race, The Pigtails Challenge, in May, I set my sights on all sorts of running goals.  My first challenge was to heal my IT Band and then move forward with training and adventuring on the trails.  My list looked like this:

1. Maintain a regular stretching & yoga routine
2. Bonaparte Mountain and Pacific Northwest Trail/100 Trail in July
3. Kettle Crest Trail Double Peak Bagger in July with Ras
4. Angel's Staircase 35k in August, a Rainshadow Running Event
5. Devil's Dome Loop Trek and reccie in August
6. The Wilderness Challenge/Devil's Dome 45 Mile Loop with Deby Kumusaka
7. A resupply run/trek with Ras to meet up with Kevin Douglas on the Boundary Trail, in September
8. Pacing Van Phan and Deby Kumusaka on the final stretch of their Double Wonderland run in September
9. Running the 94 mile Wonderland Trail around Mt. Rainier in 3 days, as my 8th time encircling this mountain, in September
10. Baker Lake 100k , as the grand finale in early October
        
     I have established a consistent stretching & yoga routine and it feels good to have been able to heal myself through this practice.  As runners, it is so important to be as dedicated to stretching as we are to our training plans.

     I had some awesome runs on local sections of the Pacific Northwest Trail, better than planned. Shona Hilton, my great friend, neighbor and running partner, led Ras and I on a scenic  14 mile run to Smith Lake in the Pasyten Wilderness in July. These trails were new to me, yet only a couple hours away. We ran through the Tripod Fire burn area with blackend and silvered trees, recovering well and filled with wildflowers. The trail through the burned forest was in good shape, mostly smooth with some rocky areas. We climbed to Sunny Pass and enjoyed 360 degree views before meandering over the pass to the lake.  We were at or above 6,000 feet for most of the run, which was great training for Angel's Staircase later in the summer.  

     Shona and I did our next long run together from the Whistler Canyon Traihead on Highway 97 in Oroville. This is another section of the PNT. It starts in the Okanogan River Valley and climbs all the way up into the Okanogan Highlands where we both live. We chose to start in the valley and do an 18 mile out n'back. We wanted to get in some persistent climbing and then a good down run, getting more and more technical as we descended. We got just this and it was a great day on the trails with Shona once again. At one point when I was in the lead, I quietly held up my finger and whispered to Shona “We don't want to get sprayed”. This was my way of letting her know we were passing by a cute little skunk that might have a not-so-cute way  of letting us know to get out of its territory. We slowed to a walk and it scampered off, its tail held high in the air, yet not releasing its notorious odor.  We felt pretty lucky with the way that encounter played out. We had also seen a raccoon family playing alongside the road as we had driven to the trailhead early that morning. These animal sightings reminded us to appreciate the more common, everyday things and to not always be expecting the biggest and the best in our adventures. In the past on this same trail, we have seen Big Horn Mountain Sheep, rattlesnakes, a mama bear with 2 cubs, a mama moose with her 2 young ones, many deer and a yearling bear.

     Shona and I also had 2 great evenings together climbing local peaks. Bonaparte Mountain has a great 2.5 mile climb, gaining 2,270 feet and its neighbor, Strawberry Mountain has a 900 foot gain in 1.7 miles of ascent. These were nice runs in the cool air of evening, as this dry Okanogan countryside is very hot during the day. I did get in some good heat runs, which I mainly did solo while Ras was at work and Shona was  with her 2 boys. I also cut grass and did other outside chores in the heat of the day to get used to working physically hard in those conditions. 

     Ras and I had been wanting to run the Kettle Crest Trail in the Colville National Forest for a couple of years. It is a part of the PNT and the northern trailhead is only an hours drive from our home. Ras had led trail crew work there 2 summers ago, and raved about it. We had set aside 2 days to run the length of the trail as out n'back and decided to also attempt summiting the 14 peaks along its route on the way down and the way back. A very lofty goal. Feeling good after a summer of great runs and a 100 miler under my belt, I thought I could handle this trail just fine. We did not know the exact length of the trail or just what  the access trails to the summits would be like. We had very little trail beta, but armed with all of our gear, a new GPS, lots of food and calories, a water filter and each other, we set off in the early morning from the trailhead off of Boulder Pass in Northeastern Washington. 

     An hour in, we reached the GPS way point for the first summit. There was no trail. It would be a scramble up a rocky, grassy slope. This was the smallest peak of the 14. I became discouraged pretty quickly. It was indeed very steep and I could not imagine how I would continue to bag peaks of increasing intensity like this, all day and night and also run the trail itself, knowing that it was at least 42 miles one way.  We continued on and went on a roller coaster ride of fun, high times and then low times. The scenery was unique and spectacular. Wildflowers were everywhere. The terrain always changed. At one point we climbed uphill through a couple miles of young alders choking the trail and wondered if we would even be able to find our way along the Kettle Crest itself, let alone the trails to each peak.  I decided to sit out one of the smaller mountains, Ryan Hill. I sat alone and waited. Ras returned fairly quickly and offered to lead me up to the summit, that it had been the easiest so far. I had felt guilty not going in the first place, so I went with him and he got in a repeat. 

     Back on the main trail, we moved along pretty well now, stopping to filter water in a beautiful  area that was recovering from a forest fire many years ago. Our spirits were up, and we were feeling like we could enjoy some version of our original goal on this trail.  We came to a place where a spring had been fenced off by ranchers so that their cattle would not destroy the spring, yet the cows could still access a water trough. We saw a rough camp set up, two tarps strung between trees and a single orange pillow underneath. Unfortunately, we had both seen it. Beyond this was a crazy long and steep approach to the summit of our 4th climb of the day. We had read in the trail guide that there would be an easy 30 minute walk to the neighboring peak, and thus we thought we could get 2 more summits in before nightfall. We reached the top at 9:00 p.m. We had gotten stuck in a thick mat of blowdowns. They were so old and silvered, that the young trees growing up amongst them were now too tall to climb over and scrambling over all of this was discouraging and taxing. Ras kept looking for the best way up and finally we reached a clearing where we could simply keep scrambling up a grassy 50% grade to the summit. At the top, we could clearly see that the way over to the next summit would take way longer than 30 minutes. With darkness approaching, the going would be even trickier, and seemingly impossible to me, anyway.  We retreated to the tarped shelter we had seen at the base of the mountain, deciding to rest and reevaluate. 

     Even though we had announced this as an Only Known Time attempt, we decided we would have to abandon our effort. We were only about 20 miles in with only 4 summits made. We had left at 6:00 a.m. It was already 9:30 p.m. We had hours of unknown territory ahead of us, we were moving further away from our car and nowhere near hitchhiking opportunities if we kept moving forward, and then found we were unable to finish within the next couple of days when we were expected out. We decided to rest under the tarp, on the bare ground, until morning and then run back to our car. We would attempt the out n'back as a team later and Ras would attempt the peak bagging with a different partner as a separate adventure. This was a really hard decision and the first time we had turned around like this. It didn't feel good to either of us, but it was the more prudent thing to do.

     Angel's Staircase was held on August 11th, outside of Carlton, Washington in the high-country above the Methow River Valley. The climb takes runners from about 2,000 feet in elevation up to 8,000 feet in 10.5 miles. Elites such as Jodee Adams- Moore and Nikki Kimball would be at this event and I was looking forward to catching a sight of these amazing lady runners. Many other friends would be running the 60k or 35k course and my daughter Angela would be at the finish to greet me. Ras was running the 60k and Shona and I planned on running the 35k together.  After seeing Ras and Deby off on the 60k, Shona showed up with her family for the 35k start. She was feeling nervous but had a solid plan and I was feeling good about running together up into the high country. I'd had my regular race morning banana and coffee breakfast and I was ready to go. Shona relaxed more and more as the starting time got closer and we discussed our strategy together. We mainly wanted to beat the cut-offs, climbing as strong as we possibly could and running our own race. We had 4.5 hours to make it to 8,000 feet.

     We started out at a nice run up the forest service road and then began incorporating in power hiking as the grade got steeper. We played leap frog with the other back-of-the packers, but in my mind I felt like we would stay strong and be able to make a solid gain on some of the other runners. A steady effort was my goal as I knew I wanted to maintain some good energy for the 10.5 mile 6,000 foot descent after this climb was all over with.  After 3 miles of forest service road and a water refill, we were on the single track. It climbed steadily alongside a creek, making its way through damp forest from storms the previous few nights. Now the temperatures stayed cool and only a little muggy. Our climbing training together and running in the heat was paying off. I carried an extra water bottle with me just to douse myself with. We crossed several creeks which helped with staying cool & wet as well. After an hour or so of queasiness, I felt like my normal trail-self again. I started chatting away with Shona after having being silently settling into the effort earlier.  As we gained elevation, so too did we gain confidence in our ability to beat the cut-offs and put in a solid race for the day.

     The grade got increasingly steeper and steeper. The trail got rocky and rutted. We climbed out of the forest and into the alpine meadow. We could now see other runners and many had turned around at the summit and were running by us on their way down. I love the trail running community and its positive vibe. Everyone was so friendly ,chatting as we passed each other, or climbed single file up the trail. Not surprisingly, my friend and running photographer Glenn Tachiyama was at the top. What a place to be! He got some great photos and cheered on runners as the 60ks dropped over the ridge to continue their run and the 35ks turned around to descend what we had just climbed.

      We saw such great “team spirit”as we made this climb and descent. One runner injured her ankle in the deeply rutted meadow and a friendly couple I had just met, Ron and Angela, were helping her. They had shared Biofreeze and checked the condition of her ankle for her. She had no choice but to hike back down to the forest service road, about 9 miles from where she was. This remote race had no easy way out if you became injured. The aid station volunteers were perfect, offering words of encouragement and filling all of my bottles before I even had to ask for anything. So many runners on their way down, while I was still climbing, let me know it was well worth the effort.  Runners let each other pass safely on technical ground and always a positive word was being passed as well. We did gain a lead on some other runners, some because of misfortunes in their own race and others because we were just keeping steady.

     I felt great running down. I felt like I could go on forever. Front of the pack 60k runners were flying past Shona and I. They seemed of another world altogether, jumping over downed trees while I crawled over and bounding from one side of the trail to the other with no fear, as they avoided roots, rocks and ruts.  I felt this energy and it pulled me down the trail with it. I knew Angela would be waiting and I couldn't wait to see her. I followed Shona on the way up and she was following me down, just as we had thought it might go. It was comforting and natural to be running this way with her. We were helping each other in a quiet, unspoken way we both felt.

     About 2 miles from the bottom, Shona changed her tune about running the 60k next year. So normal is this sense of doubt at the end of a hard endurance event, that I knew how Shona was now feeling. My offers of sharing soy jerkeys and a squirt over her head from my water bottle weren't what she wanted. My cheery sense of smelling the oats in the barn was not what she needed. It was time to  be sensitive and simmer down. She kept on running with all the strength she had in her, mentally and physically. I could hear her feet hitting the ground as I ran next to her on the open forest service road. We would round a bend in the road and not see the finish yet, but the excitement of knowing it would be there kept us moving forward. Then finally, we saw cars parked and people waiting for their runners. We saw the colorful flags and the way James Varner had now put a turn in the path for us to follow, straight uphill (a very gentle hill) to the tables filled with food and coolers filled with ice cold drinks.  I ran straight into my daughter's arms for a big hug. Shona disappeared onto the cool grass. 

     Later, when Angela carried slices of freshly made wood-fired pizza over to us, Shona said that had been her hardest athletic endeavor. I felt honored to be a part of it with her. 

     I had left room for spontaneity in my summer schedule.  Angela works on a trail crew for the Forest Service and had invited Ras and I to run out to where she would be working on a bridge along the Middle Fork of the Pasayten River. She would be 17 miles out- a perfect distance for an out n'back in a day. Ras and I decided to camp out on Hart's Pass in the North Cascades the night before our run and hit the trail early the next morning. I spent the day  Friday packing the car with camping gear and running last minute errands in the small nearby town.  By the afternoon, I had a mysterious stomach ache starting. 

     The pains began coming on stronger and I could think of nothing more than making them go away so I could do this run the next day with Ras to see our daughter out in the wilderness. I thought maybe it was gas, bloating, or just an acidic feeling in my stomach. Ras got home from work and I let him know I hadn't gotten as much ready for our trip as I had hoped because of this stomach ache I was having. I had laid down for a while, which is unusual for me to do during the day.  Ras and I loaded the rest of our gear into the car and set off towards Loup Loup Pass. At the local mini mart, I bought Tums and a carbonated drink. Nothing was making the pain go away and it was worsening. Finally, I asked Ras to pull over and I told him then that the pains were feeling all to familiar. As it worsened, it spread an intense achiness around to my back -the classic sign of pancreatitis. I had experienced this before, but had taken for granted that I would not have this return. It would not be wise to go on a 34 mile run in the back country in this condition. We turned around and headed back for home, passing two hospitals on the way. 

     I was in denial and wouldn't let Ras stop at either of the small hospital choices we had available to us. It would mean going to the ER and I really didn't want to. At home, I writhed around all night long until morning when I awoke Ras and asked him to take me into the ER.  He patiently helped me to the car and back to town where I was admitted upon arrival.  After starting an IV, I was given the long awaited relief from the pain and sunk onto the surprisingly comfortable gurney.  I spent the night at the hospital. The CT Scan showed pancreatitis and no signs of its cause. The blood work revealed the same, but by the next morning was almost back to normal. I went home that evening.

     I now look at my remaining list of summer season goals with big question marks. What about going into the back-country after experiencing what can be a life threatening pancreatic attack?  What about being such a fit and healthy runner? What about not drinking alcohol for over 20 years, the most common cause of pancreatitis?  Am I really following a healthy vegan diet or am I kidding myself? Can I still do these runs?  

     As it turns out, Kevin Douglas had to postpone his 240 mile Pasayten Wilderness  project he had planned for this September, due to a severe ankle sprain. Ras and I wouldn't be resupplying him after all; one summer adventure canceled due to an unexpected injury.

     I not only gain physical, but mental strength from running. I have healed emotional and physical challenges through becoming an ultrarunner. I began ultrarunning about 2 years after I first had pancreatitis in 2007, caused by a small cyst blocking my main pancreatic duct. At the University of Washington Medical Center, 40% of my pancreas and my entire spleen were removed. I began walking up and down the hospital halls for the week I was in there and started regularly cross-country skiing within the month after returning home. I continued to hike and go on long walks for the next 2 years.  Motivated by Ras'  trail running and the community of runners he was meeting, I began to run myself. I started trail running at the tail end of cross-country ski season in 2009. I knew I wanted to run ultra distances, so I trained for a 50k from the beginning. I completed that run, Baker Lake 50k and have continued to challenge myself since then. 

     Our body's ability to heal and thrive is impressive.  Just as completing an ultra distance trail run takes positive thinking, focus, healthy eating & drinking and the ability to take just one step at a time; so does healing from injury or illness. I don't know the long term implications of having this pancreatic condition come back to haunt me, or how it will affect the list of goals I put together in the early part of this summer season. But I am trained as a distance runner. In the ultrarunner Olga King's words, “I've been trained to keep going even when its hard. When it hurts. When it sucks. When I don't want to. I look past it. Relentless forward progress to the finish. Call it what you want: stubborness, endurance, determination, guts. Deep down, I don't know how to give up.”