Susitna 100 - 2012 edition

The short version: I finished in 41 hours.  Below are the foot finishers.  There were ten foot division folks who dropped.  So 21/31 finished in the foot division.  I was 16/21 (or you could say I was 16/31. which sounds better).   

click to enbiggen so you can read (if you are interested in the results)

The long version:  It is hard to know where to even begin. Probably with last year's race, the memory of which mostly kept me relatively cheerful as I consistently took mental note of the minutes then hours I had gained on last year's time (and ultimately DNF). I won't do a blow by blow pace or mood comparison, but suffice it to say that this year was better, unless you are hoping for tears and drama. Though the journey was not without "issues," ranging from punchy trail, female issues and hating all my food (and consistently feeling like I might throw up when I ate on the trail), on the whole it was all manner of yes.

The race start

Ayershire Road on the way out

I flew into Anchorage on Thursday afternoon where Jill picked me up at the airport. We first had lunch with Shawn McTaggert, whose blog post first inspired me to do this race (I linked to it in my 2011 report which is linked above). Sort of appropriate. This was really the first time I even met her. She is really cool. She ended up winning the 50k (Little Su) even though next weekend she is walking the entire Iditarod trail to Nome. Yes, to Nome. She will be pulling her sled for a month. Clearly it will be some time before I imitate her. Actually, I do not plan to ever do that. Maybe to McGrath, which is the 350 miles Beat will do next weekend.  (By the way, Beat set up this awesome tracking site for my SPOT tracker, which was a Christmas present from my good friends Kim and Krista.  He is the best). Anyhow, you think I'm crazy? Nah, I haven't scratched the surface. I think I hang with a bad crowd... Anyhow, Shawn's husband did the Su 100 too and killed it. Plus he seems really great too.

trail

mashed potatoes trail

We met up with Amy and Dan, with whom we stayed, and it was awesome to spend so much time with my buddy Jill and newer buddies. Amy and Dan are good people. Jill did Su on foot while Amy skied and Dan biked. It is fun to have a crew all preparing for the same "Su-ffer fest." (clever word courtesy of Dan). Friday morning I had a final Pretrial conference by phone though which precipitated some work obsession. Friday night, after having a great dinner with blogger Karen who did the 50k with her husband, my mind fought the power of my Ambien thinking about work. I finally reminded myself that I would have plenty of time to think about work and fell asleep. Thankfully, that was the last I thought of work.

We were fretting about the weather forecast as above freezing temps would mean post holing and a wet slushy slog. Indeed, when Jill and I left our hotel room in Wasilla (right by Sarah Palin's house!) it was 28 or something Saturday morning before the race. Imagine our delight when the temperature gauge in the car dropped to zero en route to Point McKenzie where the race begins. Jill and I both became giddy. There was hope yet. The best part was the giant moose did not step in front of our moving car. Rita, one of the race directors, recommended taking advantage of firm trail before the temps rose then try to be patient when the trail became mashed potatoes. Keeping this in mind, I ran most of the way to the first checkpoint at Flathorn Lake/ mile 22 and arrived in approximately 5:45, half an hour faster than last year. This was especially good since my sled felt heavier than last year despite being ten pounds lighter.

nope not going to Nome

Barbie Doll Corner

What was in my sled? My huge feathered friends puffy, -40 sleeping bag, closed cell foam pad, extra clothes, Hagloffs rain shell, snowshoes that I hate, 10,000 calories of food I hated, an extra water bottle, handwarmers, too many electronics, a Leatherman tool, a bivy sack, extra shoes and socks, Hydropel, foot repair kit and trash bags for overflow. It weighed about 28 pounds. You must have 15. The only thing I would have left and wanted desperately to chuck into the deep snow was my snowshoes. I am glad I had the rest. I left the awesome fur hat Deb loaned me since it wasn't going to be cold enough and forgot Zeke's ashes, which I wanted to spread on the Iditarod trail. Maybe next year :p

Jill looking awesome

Alaska girl and her big fish

Checkpoint for 50k runners

Me with the garden gnomes

By the way, I wore Hoka Bondi B shoes, Drymax socks, Dirty Girl gaiters, lululemon fleece lined running tights, my Melanzana fleece skirt for fashion, a long sleeve lulu top, a powderbak hydration bladder, my country western Club Ride bike jersey for extra pockets and my Mountain Hardwear monkey fur jacket much of the time. I started with a thin hat. Later in the race I donned waterproof socks, the long original Skhoop insulated skirt, my warm wool fleece lined hat and occasionally my giant puffy. It got down to -5 on the Yentna River on Sunday morning.

The first section to Flathorn is so fun. It was sunny and I saw some dog teams. The famous Nome sign is on this section. It is hard to not enjoy the race to Flathorn. (There is a 7 hour cutoff to leave FH which is pretty aggressive on foot really - not sure why they do that). That said, my shins, knees, hip flexors and everything pretty much started hurting from the beginning. I decided that even if it meant injury, I was going to finish the stupid race and endure whatever pain I felt. Luckily, all these things sort of took turns screaming and nothing ended up being a big deal.

Having made the cutoff in plenty of hurried frantic time, my shins and knees and Achilles, though they were going to make the entire journey come hell or high water, were done running. Ouch. Pulling a sled in snow while running is not natural and caused me to tax my hip flexors and run on the balls of my feet which is not my normal way to run. I walked 100% of the rest of the race.

The second segment is from Flathorn Lake to Luce's Lodge on the Yentna River. It is 19 miles. You first cross the "dismal swamp" before decending the "wall of death" to the Susitna River, which joins the Yentna. The entire course is accessible only by snow machine or plane by the way. The sunset on wide frozen river is pretty cool. I really quite enjoyed the quiet and solitude of this segment as day turned to night, and it was also fun seeing the front bikers returning already. There were some sections of horrible soft trail, and efforts to use my snowshoes were short lived and wrought with frustration. It was early though and too soon for me to get too annoyed.

photo courtesy of Jill Homer

Feeling sick and hating my food, especially my nasty homemade candy/protein snacks, I vowed to catch up on calories at Luce's. Best spaghetti and meatballs.ever. Or so it seems after 41 miles of sled pulling. I stuffed my face and took some garlic bread for the road. I wished I had an entire loaf. So much better than my snacks. I'd better hurry back for more....

The next stretch is 12 miles to Alexander Lake. The aurora borealis. Oh my. I was treated to a veritable light show. I have never seen such a thing and may never again. I tried to memorize every column of light and shape shifting surreality. I tried going without my headlamp a bit and just stared at the sky for the whole thing. I almost cried, but didn't. Each time I felt overcome by emotion, I asked myself sarcastically (unintentionally) "are you going to cry about it?". "Um, no, I guess not." "Well you have permission." "Well, you just totally ruined the mood..." So, no tears were shed the whole race, though afterwards at the awards everything was so hilarious to my tired mind that I kept laughing till I cried. A lot.

Jill Homer (photo courtesy of Jill Homer)

Anyhow. Northern lights. Sigh. A couple hours of my life that will forever live in my memory as among the best. My level of euphoria was at its max. I wasn't sure how to photograph it so I am posting Jill's pictures. 

photo courtesy of Jill Homer

Before I knew it I was in and out of Alexander Lake and back to Luce's for more spaghetti. Mmmm. Breakfast spaghetti... I ultimately tossed all but my required emergency calories and lived off checkpoint meals. Not ideal but my stomach dictated this. I have still never puked running (walking, whatever) and didn't want to break my streak. I took awhile at Luce's because I knew the next section was long and would include the scene of last year's epic meltdown. I was a little scared to be honest. And knew it would be a long segment. At least this year it would be light out still since I was many hours ahead of last year. It would also involve walking through the Iron Dog snow machine race with the racers speeding by at 100 mph and spectators on snow machines swarming like Mosquitos. This is a bit surreal, like walking along a NASCAR track. The river is at least a half mile wide yet we were all competing for use of the same strip. At least the fact that the light was really flat slowed them down some. It was actually a fairly dismal day but could have been much worse.

As I expected, the 19 mile stretch was long, but I was pleased with my steady and even keeled mental state. I took a self-portrait of me not being sad or scared or melting down.  The main issue I had was that my iPod shuffle kept playing this incredibly annoying Snow Patrol song that must be one of the worst songs ever.  It reminded me of a song Cartman would sing on South Park if he were trying to get rich imitating schmaltzy alt-rock bands like Cold Play.  That said, another Snow Patrol song (Symphony) was my favorite of the whole race.

Look ma!  No hysteria!

However, walking through the scene brought back intense memories of what it felt like last year. It was odd. I had forgotten the details. I can't say I enjoyed the trip down memory lane. Though I remembered it was the worst I have ever felt in my life mentally, I forgot how that actually felt. I suddenly remembered. It is so dumb because it's not like a real life problem or war experience or anything that matters, but it apparently meant a lot to my brain. I suddenly NEEDED to get off the Susitna River, in part because it was soft and I was annoyed with my slow progress. I asked someone how far I was from the wall of death. Only two miles. Somehow, upon reaching the wall of death (which was icy and required that I crawl up on my hands and knees) I knew I was golden. I was going to finish! Maybe even under 40 hours which was my A goal.

icy wall of death

Dismal Swamp

The return trip across the Dismal Swamp, while soft and punchy, went fast. I developed something I call "nap walking." You close your eyes and walk, but open your eyes when you start to actually fall asleep. It requires some practice and practice it I did. However, when you start postholing you have to stop nap walking and watch the ground.

I passed the scene of where I dropped, though I am not exactly sure where it was. I felt somewhat ambivalent by that point, maybe a little hardened at that point against the weird intense memory of last year's suffering. That was behind me. (It probably helped that rather than being -20 it was +20).

On Flathorn Lake, I forgot how far up the lake the checkpoint is. This pissed me off. A lot. I thought I would arrive half an hour sooner and this made me bitter. My Garmin had zonked out so I didn't realize how much farther I had to go yet. Forty hours or less wasn't going to happen. Trying to be positive, I was relieved that the pressure of a time goal was gone and I could chill at the checkpoint.

I looked over and saw a little doggie looking up at my with its tongue hanging out. Then I saw that there were about 20 of them. I had not heard the team come up from behind me. They were all so small and looked to me like Jack Russell Terriers. Upon arrival at the checkpoint I relayed the team of JRTs and ultimately won the award for "best hallucination." They were real! I swear they were at least JRT/husky mixes....

Leaving Flathorn, where I snarfed reindeer sausage jambalaya and cornbread, I knew victory was mine. What I didn't realize was how interminable the remainder of my race would be. You follow a straight uphill seismic line for, oh, ten or more miles? There was one part where I crossed this open frozen swamp in the Susitna Flats Game Preserve and Dead Can Dance played in my iPod, which I bravely set on shuffle despite last years shuffle disaster (sad music precipitated the meltdown). Boy this was cool. The sky was red and the silhouettes of the black spindly trees were Dali-esque. However, this moment of sensory bliss was soon replaced by a testing of my patience. I created little jobs for myself to pass the time. I obsessed about how far I had left. I so perfected nap walking that it also bored me. Luckily I was tired enough that I decided to tell myself I had fewer miles to go than reality because it was easy to trick myself. Tired logic and math = only 5 more miles until I only have 5 miles left! Much better than 10 miles left.

Brooks, husband of Rita and co-RD drive up on his snow machine and while I was deliriously happy to have human contact, felt like I was being pulled over for DUI (which has never happened by the way though I have done field sobriety tests for officers in training). Brooks was checking my eyes and asking a lot of complicated questions like "how are you feeling?"  I tried explaining that I was channeling all the zen I could and he said he had no idea what I was saying. Fail. I invited him and his companion to walk with me but he declined. I hoped Jamshid, who has 14 or 15 finishes and is a neat guy from Seattle, would catch me. In fact, I stopped to lollygag many times thinking Jamshid was right behind me. Turns out he wasn't and I started repeating to myself "this is the most interminable race I have ever done" and "I am not doing another hundred ever or even going to keep running or possibly exercising even."  I vowed to become a sitter and sleeper full time.

Finally I hit Ayershire road, which involves three miles uphill on the snowy but firm bike path. It all took ten times longer than I wanted it to but I eventually saw the lights of the finish. Jill, who is awesome and finished five hours earlier, was standing in the cold waiting for me. I love that chick. Truly. I wanted to run the last ten feet but couldn't. So I pretended. I am sure it was dumb looking but I thought I was pretty hilarious. I do crack myself up a lot. I finished in 40:59 but despite my protest they recorded 41 hours. My watch was righter than theirs :p

this is what my camera thought of the finish line, which sort of reflects how I felt

I downed soup and Jill drove us to Wasilla. I mumbled incoherently as Jill got lost and almost cried while I slept. We hit no Moose and made it back to near-Sarah's. I have honestly never been so tired in my life. I fell asleep while saying words (not sure what I was trying to say).

puffball finisher (photo courtesy of Jill Homer)

If you have read this and are still asking "why Danni?" -- I think I enjoy this stuff that you may or may not think is dumb because I enjoy pushing the boundaries of my ability and just seeing what I am able to do. Yeah, it is pretty random and punishing, but life is short and while sometimes I crash and burn, I also sometimes surprise myself. Either way, I file it all away for later when life requires that I go to the well. Thus far the journey has always been worth it, even when I fall short, and this year was no exception. It sure is nice to succeed though! Yay me.

P.S.  I have to point out that I am lucky to have Ted as my husband -- he is so supportive and awesome.  Also, I really have great friends who spoil me with their support and friendship.  Yay me.