Western States FINISH: From Faith to Finish

  AS Andy and I grew closer to Placer high School, we could hear the river running nearby. When we came out of the trail, the landscape opened up before us, and it was the most breathtaking landscape of the American River. I was of course filled with all kinds of emotion, but I remember Andy was in awe as well! The river just cut through the rugged terrain, softening the views but still leaving you with a respect for the surroundings. 

Maybe it was running with Andy and feeling vulnerable. Maybe it was knowing that no matter what, I was going to finish. Maybe it was the heat. Or maybe it was simply that I had been running for 27 hours. 

Maybe the miles, the hills, the canyons, the heat, the broken blisters, the exhaustion...

Regardless of how I felt physically, the view was stunning and covered me with joy. 

I dug my palms in deeper with my poles, using them to lift me, pull me and drag me forward. I could feel the blisters on my palms weathered away and bleeding, but I was so grateful for this extension of me. The poles had been a lifeline. 

Andy and I came to the bridge he had been telling me should be approaching. The river deep below us, and now we were exposed to the elements. The path was wide open as we came into community. Auburn. 

At Robbie Point, the girls would be waiting for us. Mile 99. From there, Kara and Lynn would get to run with me all the way to the finish. 

Andy and I had a final climb that threatened to suck the little bit of life back out of me. A couple runners slowly crept up on us, I could tell that Andy was not thrilled when they passed, however, it was all I had to keep moving. 

We entered into a neighborhood; my watch had me at 100 miles and I still did not see the girls. Climbing another smaller hill, the girls came into sight!

Auburn was the cutest town, they had completely transformed the town for Western States. Spectators lined the streets. Signs were everywhere. People were cheering from every corner. Every runner had a sign dug into the side of the road, and as the girls excitedly joined us, they showed me mine. 

My own personal sign!

My name, and bib number on it. 

I stopped for a picture with waves of emotion. The more people cheered, the more real it became. 

Every battle I fought. Every mental voice I had silenced. Every time I wondered if I could keep going. 

It came down to this last mile. 

52 years came all at this point. I had trained through pain the day I was born, adversity, addiction, abuse, abandonment, it was ALL part of my training. Every hard season had prepared me for this last mile. 

Every strong will moment, grit your teeth, tighten your fists and see yourself on the other side came down to this pavement pounding. 

They were cheering me on as I felt it all, the pain, the purpose and the promised of God, for never giving up. 

I couldn't breathe; the emotions were so overwhelming. It was more than a finish line, every time I wondered if I could keep going, I knew the Lord had carried me to this place as He had taken care of me so many other times in my life. 

"ANITA! ANITA! Let's GOO ANITA!" 

From all sides, every home, I heard them looking at my bib shouting my name. 

I found myself motivated by the energy moving faster down that little village road. We came to a crossroads where our friend Paul was sitting on the curb. Our eyes met, and He jumped up, "Can I join you..." Paul had been waiting there to run that last mile in with us. 

I was so taken back by this thoughtful gesture. 

"YES! Come ON!!" 

And just like that, the 5 of us grew closer together as we made our way toward Placer High School. 

It grew louder. Even more emotional, for all of us. Spirtual. It was surreal.

But the MOST unexpected guest hadn't come into my sight yet, but they were waiting....

Coming toward the track, I saw someone standing there with a bike.

It was my cousin, Vince Jr. 

I hadn't seen him in more than 30 years, since he was just a boy. He lives in Sacramento and had ridden his bike 22 miles just to see me finish. 

I would later find out that he had arrived less than five minutes before I came through!

I believe this to be Gods perfect planning. 

My heart could hardly take any more emotion, I was smiling and crying like a lunatic.  

Stunned, overwhelmed and overflowing with LOVE. 

My posse dropped back as stepped onto the track, a decision Andy had persisted on. I told them they could run that loop around the track with me, but Andy wanted me to embrace the moment solo, with them meeting me at the finish. 

The crowd was deafening. Every side of the track was screaming and cheering. The announcers called out each runner. I listened as I ran the track, it was like a Olympic stadium, the vibes were so explosive. I felt revived and brand new; you wouldn't know that I thought I was going to curl up and die just 2 miles prior!

Tears drenched my cheeks as the crowds roared as if I were the winner of the race, no someone who was actually finishing in the last hour!

I felt a presence next to me, it was a guy keeping up with me holding a camera, like the paparazzi. Step by step he kept pace with me, we were running a 8:30min/mi and he looked unfazed and I felt the Glory of God beaming down on me, His Glory... So glorious.

"Anita Hareless..." yep, they messed my name up, and I just chuckled. 

But in a fast swoop, they put a medal around my neck, gave me a bouquet of flowers and a snap collared shirt and moved me along. 

My entire crew was there, coddling me, and loving me. Even Joe made the finish. He was in his element on the track at the finish line, I could see how happy he was to be at Western States. The man that gifted me this incredible experience had even made it. 

Stunned by the excitement, the execution and the endeavor I felt like I was going to collapse, but they all helped me to the center on the track to take it all in. 

There were so many things I wanted to say. 

Together we squatted on the field, I smiled and nodded, I listened and struggled to talk. I felt all the details, but their voices were being murmured by my body that was shutting down. Everything was so heavy. They got food as I sat and Paul was so generous, feeding me all his food, so kind. 

The infamous belt buckle doesn't come immediately. The awards ceremony is a couple hours after the 30 hour cut-off. 

In that time, one by one my crew began to leave. Vince had to bike back home. Paul had to find his runner, Joe was mingling with new friends he had made, and Kara and Lynn had to catch a flight and needed to eat, and I passed out under a tent.  

I woke up to say goodbyes and eat with the gals, but Andy needed to exchange luggage from the cars at the same time as the ceremony. 

The ceremony was incredible. Every runner was called by name in the order they finished. 

"Anita Harless, YOU are a Western States Finished..." 

You are handed a engraved belt buckle and shake hands with several people, of which I only remember the RD! 

RUNDOWN: My Offering

It felt surreal. Even completely depleted, I had tears running down my face. 

I was wrecked. Humbled. Grateful. 

I had given everything I had to this course. And the truth is, even in my greatest pain, crossing that line brought 52 years of living to life. 

Western States was worth it all. 

Every wound. 

Every low point.

Every vomiting session.

Literally the blood, sweat and tears. 

It was part of MY OFFERING. 

I gave 6 months of training, physical therapy, hundreds of dollars, nights of prayers, doubt, hope, supplements, sacrifices, and everything in between. 

And in the end, I TRUSTED THE LORD with it all.  Not my will, but Thy will be done. 

I offered myself to the Lord, to use as a testimony for Him. And I promised the Lord to shine His light, in the valleys, on the mountains, all hours, no matter what. 

His Glory, My offering. His Gift. 

I trusted God with it all. Not just the outcomes, but even the process. Because dreams like this are built on FAITH and SURRENDER. 

You don't get to separate the beauty from the struggle. They are one. 

Western States wasn't just something I finished. It was an offering of everything I had. And in the end, The Lord took that offering and gave me something I will carry the rest of my life. 

KARA. words I paused.

But what I'll remember most wasn't the river crossing or the climb. 

It was Anits's eyes. 

When I first met her that night, they were empty. She was a shell of herself. It felt like I was guiding a tiny, sleepwalking woman along the edge of a cliff, awake, but somewhere far away, wandering through a world that felt more like Alice in Wonderland than reality.

How she pushed through the vomiting, the fatigue, the hallucinations-like haze and the overwhelming exhaustion, I'll never fully understand. 

But I do know this: Being entrusted to share those miles with her was one of the greatest honors I've ever had. Watching her fight her way back, one step at a time, all the way toward Auburn, is something I will never forget.

Lynns Words I paused.

I went to Western States expecting to cheer from the sidelines. 

Instead, I was given the gift of sharing miles, conversations, quiet moments, and unforgettable memories with two of the most amazing people I know. 

I walked away in complete awe, not just of Western States, but of the people who make it what it is. 

I'll never forget to be grateful to Anita and Andy for trusting me with a small part of this journey. It was an honor, a blessing and without question one of my favorite experiences I ever had. 

THANK YOU's

Kara-

My night shift doctor, crisis manager and lifesaver. She ran through the night with me, kept me alive while I was vomiting and somehow managed to make medical decisions while I was questioning every life choice that had brought me there. 

Lynn-

Little but mighty! While I was barely able to whisper, "slow down," Lynn was out there watching the other runners like we were competing for the podium! She kept me moving, kept me fighting, and somehow got this completely wrecked version of me all the way to the finish. 

Andy-

My husband, my crew chief, my emotional support human...and the unfortunate collector of my disgusting feet, and smells! You saw the blisters, the tears, the paleness of death, and every ugly moment, and every ticking second of the unknown. You never quit believing in me and praying for me. I could not have done this without you supporting my dreams, those wild and reckless dreams. 

Joe-

The man responsible for this entire adventure. You gifted me a WSER experience and then actually showed up to see the consequences!! I will forever be grateful that you believed I could do it. 

Deepest gratitude. 

In Peace, Not Pieces,

Anita

Western States: Green Gate to the Finish

Coming out of Rucky Chucky, I was shivering. Cold. Exhausted. Beaten up. 
BUT I was also at mile 78. 
I was no longer living in the space of wondering if I would make it. 
I had crossed more than a river. 

Rucky Chucky represented the accumulation of everything I had overcome. The relentless climb through high country. The heavy forest of unknown wandering in High Country, the brutal canyons and suffocating heat that climbed quicker than I was able to, and now the icy, moving American River. 

It wasn't just the terrain I had crossed. 

It was Fear. It was Pain. It was Fatigue. It was the unknown.

As Kara and I began the 2-mile climb to Green Gate, where Andy and Lynn were waiting, something CHANGED.

A very Confident Hope.  

Kara had convinced me that I had a little time banked. Not much, but enough to stop chasing the 

clock and settle my mind.  The climb to Green Gate wasn't the biggest of the last 20 hours, but it sure took another bite out of me. 

To Green Gate: 79.8

Kara was incredible. She ran over 14 miles with NO trekking poles, because she gave me them! 

Kara saved me when I almost fell over the cliffside, gently coaxing my wobbly body slowly back onto the trail. She somehow kept Coke and soup in my stomach, even after watching me wretch like a college kid more times than I could count. She generously let me have a power nap when I desperately needed one. 

Kara literally gave me the shirt off her back when the heat was scorching me from the inside out. And when my stomach completely shut down she helped me get some papaya enzymes from Dr. Andy and his wife at an aid station. (LIFE CHANGING...Papaya Enzymes, who knew!). 5 little chewable tablets settled my stomach, and from that point on I never got sick again!

But more than anything, Kara kept me moving through the dark, when all my body wanted to do was curl up and die! 

She encouraged me when I couldn't encourage myself. 

Kara was fulfilling her mission. With every decision made, I felt another layer of relief. She made it possible to fully rely on her with confidence, I did not have to rely on my exhausted mind or body. 

When I could no longer trust myself...I trusted Kara. I thanked the Lord for providing me with her. 

Green Gate-Kara's words

I will let Kara tell the story after leaving RUCKY CHUCKY:

Then came the brutal climb out of the canyon- two relentless miles of uphill gravel. Every time the grade eased, even slightly, I urged her to shuffle. Whenever the footing improved, I asked for just a little more. The goal was simple: keep our overall pace under 18 minutes per mile. 

She grew cold climbing out, but I could finally tell something changed. The calories and Coke were staying down. The short nap had worked. There was a spark returning. 

More than anything, she wanted to see Andy again and put on dry, warm clothes. 

When we reached Green Gate, Andy and Lynn were waiting. They helped strip off her soaked clothes and get her bundled into dry layers. Lynn took pacing as dawn began to break. 

The Finish suddenly felt real. 

By then, we'd stretched Anita's cushion to more than an hour and a half. I knew Lynn would keep her moving through the final miles and build even more breathing room before Auburn. 

Andy and I drove to the next spot where we'd see them. We caught a quick nap while we waited for the sun to rise and for those final miles to bring our girl home. 

Auburn Lake Trails 85.2

No Crew Access

It was still dark when I picked up Lynn at Green Gate to run the next 15 miles. I can't remember a whole lot of anything. I just knew it would be her and I all the way to Pointed Rocks. 

one aid station at a time, first one, Auburn Lake. Not that I had any idea where I was or where we were going. I was completely depending on my crew.  It was somewhere around 4am. I also was aware that the aid stations were off about a mile. I had run longer with Kara, and I expected to run longer with Lynn. 

Lynn didn't waste any time. I could tell very quicky she was given the assignment and was ready to fulfill her mission. 

LYNNS STORY;

When it came time for my pacing section, I'll admit I was intimidated. 

Could I actually help?

Could I keep up with Anita? She's so FAST! 

Would my dislike of steep downhills become a liability instead of an asset?

I was pacing from Green Gate: (Mile 79.8) to Pointed Rocks (mile 94.3). Before I took over, Andy and I talked through a strategy. I promised him I'd get Anita moving and bank a little time so her finish wouldn't feel stressful. Even though I questioned myself, I also knew something else...

When I was given the opportunity to help someone I care about, I'm going to give everything I have. 

We headed out around 4:15 that morning.

 

At first, we chatted, but it quickly became obvious that talking was slowing us down. So we shifted gears. 

Heads down. Stay focused.  Run whenever we could. Walk with purpose when we had to.

Anita was incredible. 

She trusted me even when I know she probably didn't love hearing, "Let's run to that tree," or, "Just a little farther."

I kept reminding her that the final climb into Pointed Rocks was going to be brutal, so every bit of time we cold bank now would make that last section less stressful. 

Little by little, we started running more. 

At Auburn Lake Trails, we refilled water, she grabbed a pancake and a little coffee, and we were right back out on the trail. 

She was moving well. 

Quarry Rd 90.7

No crew Access

Somewhere along that stretch she took a fall. For a split second my heart stopped. The trail narrowed with steep canyon drop offs besides us. I quickly checked on her, and true to Anita, she calmly said she was fine. We got her back up, I thanked God she still had her poles, and we kept moving. 

Then came Quarry Road

She found some cherries....and then, as if that wasn't exciting enough, Scott Jurek was there encouraging the runners. I had to snap a picture. Between the cherries and Scott's encouragement, you could literally see her spirit's lift. She had a new bounce in her step, and we were off.  

Pointed Rocks 94.3 miles 

As we approached Pointed Rocks, fatigue was definitely settling in, but Anita never quit. We continued our rhythm of running and purposeful walking until we reached the final climb. We mostly walked that last section, but every step had intention. She knew Andy would be waiting, and that was all the motivation she needed. 

Finally...we arrived. 

Watching Andy take over while knowing Anita was still moving toward her dream was such a special moment. 

The strength, grit and resilience of this woman are simply incredible. 

RUNINNG with Lynn: 

I chased that little frame up hills, down hills, out of the darkness and into the light. When I left Kara she reminded me that when the sun came up I would get a second wind. 

I was focused so hard on keeping up with Lynn I couldn't remember when the sun rose, but I do remember it was glorious. 

I gripped those poles, taking the weight off my legs and I got really good at learning how to navigate them on the downhills. 

I wanted to slow down; this was the fastest I had run in hours. Lynn was keeping me moving. I was scared to death that if I slowed down, I would get caught up in that passive running. I swallowed the pain and felt so thankful that Lynn didn't give space to my agony. 

This was a race of No Regrets. 

When we came into one of the aid stations, I was elated when I saw CHERRIES. I love cherries! It was like manna from HEAVEN. And if my feeble heart couldn't take one more surprise, there was SCOTT JUREK working the aid station! He was full of life with his wild curly hair greeting us with good vibes and high fives! 

I was going to finish this race. I could taste the finish line more that I could all the suffering I had endured for the last 20 hours. 

But I knew that I had a could significant climbs ahead. I had asked Lynn like a broken record "Is this the hill?' And patiently she would reply, "No...its going to be harder than this..." 

I was not discouraged my hearing that. I was prepared. 

I was ready for that final battle. 

I was not ready for the fall that knocked the wind out of me. I fell lifeless. No reflexes to attempt to save myself, I am pretty sure the earth shook. I landed full chest. Lynn turned around quickly and I could see the life had left her face. I wanted to bounce up like I normally do so she wouldn't be worried. She came to my rescue and shared her fear..."I was scared you would have impaled yourself with the poles." 

I was laughing but there was a lot of truth to that statement. 

Here is the thing...Lynn pushed me through. She is small but she was mighty. When we could run, she dropped the hammer. We would be running on the flats a 10min/mi. 

I even noticed Lynn picking up the pace when she would see another runner. I learned she was having fun trying to pick off the other runners. I could not believe we were actually passing runners. We would later laugh about her little competitive tactics, but they worked. 

Lynn would just appease when I asked to slow down, she would pick the pace right back up, because she believed in me more than I believed in myself. 

When we hit that final hill, it was a gut punch. It was every bit of big Lynn said it would be. But I had poles and my soul had returned. 

Lynn and I ran into this super cool forest. The trees were all tangled with low weedy foliage. The sun was back out, and it was already heating up. 

Andy and Kara were so close. 

We arrived to see them just a little after 8am. Everyone was in high spirits. I would get to run with Andy the next 5 miles. 

On our way out of the aid station Kara and Lynn were taking a pic with a gal and her Donkey. I had my wits about me to know I too wanted in the picture. We all laughed as we took our final photo together before I left with Andy towards Placer High School. 

My energy was coming in waves. And Andy was thrilled that Lynn had worked so hard to bank some time. 

ROBBIE POINT: Mile 99

Andy and I had the next 5 miles together to Robbie Point. Andy started pacing me and would finish pacing me. 

I listened to Andy praise me. It was here that I felt the weight of the world glide off Andy. He shared how close I had come to being swept at a could aid stations. He shared some of his mishaps and the difficulties they had navigating to the aid stations. He also painted a beautiful scenery of the landscape he got to enjoy in all of the journey. It was so soothing to listen to him talk. 

The sky was vast as the sun beamed on us. We were in and out of the elements knocking off each mile. One of the volunteers shared our distance and it did not match my watch. I was already coming in at a mile over and according to her, I had another mile. I almost had a full-blown meltdown.  Andy calmed me down and reassured me we would not be more than a mile over. I knew the course was 101, I knew I would be closer to 102, but that lady had me over 103...

RUNDOWN.

Kara kept me alive through the night, when I felt like death and my soul had been removed from body. She took care of me for about 20 miles, vomiting, fatigue, Rucky Chucky and overall depleted. 

Lynn picked me up at Green Gate and I would run with her about 14 miles. She pushed me like dead cattle and kept me moving, she helped me find another gear when I thought I had nothing left. 

And then came Andy, the cherry on top. Because you now know I love cherries! He praised me for those five miles to Robbie Point where we would all reunite. 

TRUST. It came down to TRUST for each other. 

Trusting the process. 

Trusting ourselves.

Trusting each other. 

And ultimately Trusting the Lord...

The Finish was in sight; they all had carried me to this final mile stretch to Auburn. The final miles are where the story doesn't end. 

Running the Last Mile into Auburn something happens that truly was God orchestrated. I have written a lot of race reports, and this was my most EPIC finish...

THE finaly is to come.

In Peace, Not Pieces,

Anita

The Canyons: Chasing the Clock

 "Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness...To humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart." Deut 8:2

I came out of the wilderness headed into the canyons. If I wasn't humbled yet, I would be by the time the canyons were done with me. 

By the time I reached Michigan Bluff (mile 55.7), my toe had begun throbbing again. I knew I needed to change my shoes and socks. After countless creek crossings, my feet had never fully dried, and the canyons had taken their toll. 

8:17pm

I didn't know who would be waiting for me at Michigan Bluff but I felt sorry for whatever crew member it was.  I was exhausted, filthy, emotionally drained and running on little more than determination. Just running on the prayers of others. 

It was a little after 8:30 pm when I reached the station. 

The aid station was roaring with cow bells and energy. Crew could not come within 200 feet of the aid stations.  

Then I saw him. 

Andy. 

I was depleted of everything. I could not even muster tears. I tried to smile so he wouldn't be worried. 

I just knew I didn't have to be strong anymore. I could be completely vulnerable because he knew me. He knows every look; he could read me from the moment our eyes connected. 

And I could read him, and he looked so worried. 

Empty of everything, and at a loss for words just seeing Andy brought peace I didn't know I needed. 

There was another unexpected gift waiting for me....

At Western States, pacers aren't allowed to join until Forest Hill (mile 62), unless a runner reaches Michigan Bluff AFTER 8pm. Because I had arrived just after 8pm, Andy was allowed to pace me from there! It was not part of the original plan but in that moment, it felt like God's perfect timing. 

I could also see the concern on his face. We both knew I was running dangerously close to the cutoff. 

When I told him my feet needed attention, I caught a brief look of panic in his eyes. 

Every minute mattered and I only had minutes. 

8:27pm

One of the volunteers was part of the Blister Team. She gingerly removed my shoes and socks with Andy's help. They treated me like fine china, with incredible kindness, and gentleness. 

I saw Andy feverishly watching the clock, trying not to hurry them, yet knowing we had very little time to spare. 

I had to leave Michigan Bluff by 8:50 or get swept. 

Yet with every minute I sat in the chair, I could feel my body coming back to life. The fog from the canyons slowly began to lift. My breathing settled and my spirit steadied. 

Time was precious, but in that moment rest was priceless. 

With fresh socks, clean bandages, and a renewed spirit, Andy and I thanked the blister team wholeheartedly and stepped onto the trail together. 

 

The sun was setting in all glory across the mountains. And I had my best friend alongside of me. My heart was full now I just needed my body to cooperate. 

Our destination was Forest Hill where I would meet Kara to trade places. 

Forest Hill: 62 mile

Running with Andy

We only had 7 miles together. The truth was that my mind was exhausted. I couldn't carry a conversation, all I could do was embrace listening to his voice and the excitement and awe of him describing the mountains.  

8:50pm

I WILL LET ANDY describe our miles together...

I was not originally planning on pacing at Michigan Bluff (56 miles), but as the day progressed, it became clear that she was going to come in after 8 pm which meant she could have a pacer earlier than Foresthill (100K mark).  This presented a challenge since it was approximately a 1-mile hike and 300 ft of elevation from the road to the aid station. How could I crew her with supplies and pace her? After my 2^nd hike down, I talked to the volunteers who offered me a chair and said I could leave my backpack of supplies at the aid station and come back later in the night/early morning to pick them up.  So we had a plan and I began to anxiously wait… The 30-hour pace meant you had to leave by 8:50 pm. As 8:20 pm came and went my anxiety was at all-time high. I knew she was close and was climbing a huge climb…finally they called her name, and I knew it would be soon. She came in with somewhat of a smile and we briefly hugged as we made our way to the chair. She immediately asked that we tend to her feet. This caused even more anxiety as this was going to take some time that she simply did not have. The volunteers were absolutely incredible, and we all went to work on her feet. It became abundantly clear that her feet were in really bad condition. The blisters were abundant, some were broken up, others were angry and red. She ate as much as you could, but her stomach was not allowing many calories.  After the much-needed feet attention, we were able to get up and moving. We started back out, leaving around 8:35 pm with 15 minutes to spare.  As we began the climb out she was not in great spirits. Exhausted, stomach a mess and concerned about time. She would run 2 minutes or so at a time only to get back to the death march. We climbed for about 1 mile then had a 2 mile downhill.  I tried to encourage her to jog the downhills, but they were too technical and she insisted on walking.  The next 2 miles were about a 1,000 ft climb.  It finally flattened out and we were able to jog into Foresthill to the sounds of cheers and cowbells. This encouraged her to start the next journey with Kara. I kept reminding her that this next section was the easiest and it was going to get better.  On a side note… out of all the races she has done, this was easily the most worried I have ever been for her. She went dark early and I have never seen her so behind.  The fact that she was able to finish this race still astounds me. I have never doubted her at a race (really-never), but I must admit after seeing her at Robinson Flat and then seeing her come late at Michigan Bluff, some doubts crept in.

Andy kept me moving, like prodding a horse. The elevation showed Andy a front row of my suffering. I was excited to see the girls when we came into Foresthill. I would pick up Kara. All I could think about was getting my trekking poles-that I soon discovered no one had. It was an instant gut punch.  

Until once again Kara came to save me, "I have mine, you can use mine..." 

I was elated. This was the first year they allowed poles, I do not use them normally, but the Lord humbled me. I was eating all the words I had ever said about running with "sissy sticks". 

10:20 pm Kara and I headed into the trail. The cutoff time for this station was 11:45pm. 

I cannot say that I remember much about the trail. I can say Kara was dancing on the trail. She was a free bird. Kara was in front leading me down towards the old gold mining trail. The next 3 aid stations we would be solo, no crew access. I was a walking zombie with a belly that was turning my pale skin green- I was wanting to puke. I had already taken Zophran and Dramamine. It had worn out and I needed something. I needed calories, caffeine and some anti-nausea. 

Dardanelles 65.7

Peachstone70.7

Fords Bar 73

No Crew Access at all three. 

Everything was a blur. going into aid stations and coming out of them. Kara had a mission, to get some calories in me. Being a ER doctor and an ultra-runner she knew that she had to get some calories in me. I would sip on black coffee, and chicken broth seemed the only thing I could keep down. Not too far after leaving the aid station I found myself hugging the wall of a mountain, the dark night hid me as I wretched all over myself. I cried to Kara as she worked so hard to get calories into me. 

We came into an aid station, and I watched a guy tell his pacer he was going to take a 5-minute nap. I was so envious. I looked at Kara, "Can I have a 5-minute nap?" I waited as I watched her trying to do some calculations. She finally responded, "You can have 4 minutes..." I didn't waste anytime and climbed into the cot next to the guy. I know it seems crazy. But it works! That guy was taking 5-minute naps at every aid station. I was so grateful for just one. I cannot say I woke up footloose and fancy, but I woke up grateful and determined to show Kara I was better for it. 

I will let Kara tell the story...

I picked Anita up at Foresthill Aid Station. She rolled in just after 10pm, and I had never seen her so exhausted-pale, confused, dehydrated, and unsteady on her feet. We reunited her with trekking poles while getting fluids into her to take whatever calories we could.

Then we were off. 

It didn't take long before she decided she didn't want the poles. I strapped them to her pack, but that was a hard NO. We left them behind. I still had mine in my quiver, and onward we went. 

The road to Foresthill was flat and paved, and we settled into an easy jog. Before long we were weaving through neighborhoods, making a few tricky turns before disappearing back into the darkness of the trail. The sky was ink black, the moon brilliantly bright, and dramatic clods drifted overhead. It was one of the nights that felt both impossibly beautiful and incredibly long. 

12:50am

Ahead of us lay Dardanelles, Peachstone, Fords Bar, the infamous Rucky Chucky River crossing and finally the relentless 2-mile climb from the river up to green gate. 

She had about a 45-50 minute cushion to make the cutoff. It wasn't much, but it was enough that I wasn't panicking. My job was simple: keep her awake, keep her moving, shuffle when we couldn't run, run when could, and somehow convince her to keep taking in calories. One step as a time. One aid station closer. One mile closer to Auburn. 

The one thing I distinctly remember is RUCKY CHUCKY...

I was so confused on these miles. But I was not confused on the fact that I was going to have to do this river crossing at mile 78.

The river would be above my waist. 

The river would be roughly about the same temp at the air, about 57 degrees. 

Everyone said it would be "refreshing" 

The thought of crossing the river had been weighing on me for miles. But I also has been anxiously awaiting to reach this monumental point. I knew it would revive me. Fear will do that to you.

The Aid Station lit up the dark night. But beyond the lights the river disappeared into the night. Just the reflections danced off the ripples. I could hear it; it was moving faster than I was.

As we approached a volunteer looked at me and asked, " do you want a life jacket? " 

Kara quickly responded "No". 

Without hesitation, I answered, "Yes." 

Then they asked us what order we wanted to cross. I had Kara go first. This would keep me moving and giving me more confidence. 

The moment we stepped into the river, the cold stole my breath. Volunteers stood in the river, stationed along a thick rope stretched across the current. They had us wearing glow necklaces along with them. They also had them in the river water to help direct you where to land your feet from one boulder to another. 

With every step, the water grew deeper. Every volunteer encouraged us as we made our way across. 

Every step took my breath away. 

Near the middle of Rucky Chucky one of the volunteers calmly looks at me and said, "You're coming to a big drop. The water is going to be up to your shoulders." 

Panic surged me. 

Up until that point I had been carefully stepping from one large rock to another. But hearing those words changed everything. I stopping trusting my legs. I changed the plan with all fear. I gripped the rope with both hands and pulled myself across, hand over hand, letting my upper body do all the work while the current pushed against me. 

By the time I caught up with Kara, my whole body was trembling uncontrollably. 

But we were not done. 

 

We still had to scramble over slick rocks and in the dark I had no idea we were not done with Rucky Chucky. 

Kara led the way to another rope in a sandy bank anchored straight UP. Dripping wet and cold we grabbed hold and literally pulled ourselves up and climbed our way out of the river gorge. 

When we reached the top, we were filthy and shivering...

I found humor in the bucket of cold dirty water they gave you to wash off. Oh, the irony. 

But we were not done.....

THE RUNDOWN

THE Canyons...

The Canyons brought more than extreme elevation. It brought extreme emotions. The climbs along those canyon walls left my so exposed. It exposed my weaknesses. It exposed my mistakes and exposed my vulnerabilities.  

The climbs revealed God's strength in my weakness. I had no tools, no poles, all I had was my Faith. It was Faith that the Lord would provide for me everything I was not equipped with. 

I had nothing by FAITH. 

The canyons emptied me of everything I thought I needed, my strength, certainty, control. 

But it never took my Hope. 

I just needed to get to Green Gate, Kara and I had another 2 grueling miles to go. 

In Peace, Not Pieces

Anita

The Canyons: WSER Part 3

 "For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone."  Psalm 91: 11-12

Leaving Andy I felt revived. I also had a whole lot less clothing on. I had shorts on under my pants that now got to see the light of day along with only a long sleeve shirt as I left for Dusty Corners. 

The Canyons would be the hottest part of the course. The granite walls radiate heat back at the runners, making it feel even hotter. The canyons often climb into the 90's and get even hotter than 100'.  In this stretch I would have 3 major canyon crossings in just over 20 miles. I would descend thousands of feet into the canyons only to do it all over again. 

I was excited to see Kara and Lynn. They had been busy all morning packing up the VRBO and loading everything into the car. They needed to conserve energy too; they had a long night ahead of them taking care of me.

My legs felt foreign as I headed down to see the girls. I actually was able to run, no rocks, no creeks, smooth sailing just allowing gravity to pull me deeper into the canyons. Andy was hoping I could make up some time in this section. It was nice to run back and forth with some other runners and not have the fear of getting lost or eaten by bears! I settled into a comfortable stride soaking in every "free" mile before the canyons reminded me that nothing at Western States comes without a price. 

Dusty Corners -Mile 38

It didn't take long to understand why this aid station was called Dusty Corners. Everything was dry to the bone. A fine layer of grit hung over everything, especially my skin. Training in Michigan for mountains and canyons was hard enough but training for the heat I was encountering was next level. They kept advertising that it was the "3rd coolest Western States in 53 years".  

Even with the cooler temperatures, the heat was relentless. 

They had 20lbs of ice for EVERY runner! 

Oh when I saw the girls!

I couldn't strip my clothes off fast enough. I felt like my body was being dipped in boiling water. My belly was on the cusp of puking. I knew my stomach was as depleted as my energy. I had quit eating miles before I had seen Andy. I was forcing little niblets of food and water knowing I needed the carbs but afraid it would start the puking process. 

The girls came quickly to my attention along with my personal aid gal. I could only speak in one-word sentences. 

"I'm so hot.."

"Do you guys have a tank top?

"Oh NOO" I cried as my gut wretched. 

I tried to find a place to sit as the nausea finally won. 

It was here that I knew that ice was more than a luxury, it was a lifeline. "Ice...Ice rag.." I mumbled, remembering how much it calmed me down in Virginia for my 100k when I got sick in the heat. 

Then Kara and Lynn looked as pale as I was when they saw how destroyed I was. Kara literally gave me the shirt off her back! She gave me her tank top and without thinking clearly, I left the aid station without my poles. 

My headspace was just thinking I was going DOWN into the canyons even though I knew I had to come back up and out. Kara also gave me her ice bandana allowing my body and mind to cool off. I didn't have the time to hang out, I had to get myself together physically, I still had so much more ground to cover. 

I chuckled to myself as I pulled out, poor Lynn and Kara. They had never seen me so wrecked. I still had over 60 miles to go. They just witness me coming out of one hell-of a battle entering into another and the temperatures were still rising. 

Last Chance 43.3

NO Crew Access

It was mostly downhill leaving Dusty Corners going into Last Chance. Last Chance is the final major aid station before the infamous plunge into Deadwood canyon and the brutal climb to Devils Thumb. It would be my last opportunity to cool down, fill up and ice up. I knew I needed calories and tried to eat the ice coming out of the bandana. My lips were dry and my tank top that Kara gave me was soaked with icy water. I quickly got my wits when I realized I was on a ledge hundreds of miles up. I made sure to keep looking forward because the drop off was more unsettling than my stomach!

10 hours of running and I was only at 41 miles! I knew I had to maintain a 17-mile pace. and I was able to do it on the downhills, but the inclines were a different story without my poles.  

Maybe it was better I didn't have my poles. I am not sure, because one thing that snuck up on me was the ledge I was running. I had a couple runners behind me when I realized I was thousands of feet up. My knees went weak and everything went tingly as I hugged the canyon wall. I actually froze.

I stopped running to let the runners pass. I was so scared. One wrong step, one trip, one slip,,,my mind was racing and I was just trying to settle myself down and get moving. It seemed like I had barely enough room to run -let alone have my poles. I thought about when Andy and I backpacked the Waimea Canyon in Kauai. I got so scared I froze on the canyon wall and cried! 

I couldn't waste my valuable tears crying.  I just prayed for the Lord to give me courage and protection. 

"Keep moving Anita..." It was 3:44pm as I inched my way across the narrow ledges literally carved into the canyon walls. 

I could hear the energy through the canyon. I felt myself getting so excited, it was now 4:13 as I arrived at Last Chance. I had both my bottles emptied and actually thought I could swallow down some watermelon and possibly something with more substance. I definitely wanted more ice! 

Devils Thumb- 47.8

No Crew Access

I didn't hang out at Last Chance long; the clock was chasing me. As I descended into the canyon I could hear the river below. I had caught back up to the other runners. 

As I descended, the foliage grew thicker and the trees began to surround me. Their canopy offered a welcome break from the relentless sun. The air was still warm, but the shade 

gave me a little relief. 

Around mile 42, we crossed a bridge over the river. the water rushed below weaving through boulders and dancing between the massive pine trees, moving far faster than we were. It was breathtaking. I was able to embrace the beauty with joy especially knowing Devils Thumb was going to be brutal, but I actually had NO idea how brutal the "devil" was going to be. 

But first I would enjoy my descent down into Deadwood Canyon. 

It didn't take long as I started climbing to realize I was up Sh&#'S Creek without a paddle not having my poles. 

I would be gaining roughly 2,000 feet over about 3 1/2 - 4 miles. This would be one of my steepest and most grueling climbs in the race. Not to mention the exposed canyon walls had the sweat tricking down every square inch of my body. 

I think it was here, on one of these cliffs that I would go back and forth with a couple lady runners. 

FUN FACT: the race only consisted of 26% women. 

So, to see them, I wanted to embrace them. The women earned their place and fought hard to be there. 

On a cliff of extreme fear I searched for courage to look out and into the landscape. We were clinging to the side with sheer drop offs. I nervously giggled to myself as I spoke "My mom died at 52. I never thought I might to die at 52, but I really don't want to die on this mountain..." As the words escaped my heart, I knew that I was emotionally sharing some very personal glimpses of myself. But it was the opening to a very sweet conversation with the lady runner that had not very engaging. She shared some intimate details about her family that triggered her "WHY". We shared some miles before I felt brave enough to pass. 

6:58

I cannot even begin to describe the grueling next few miles. The demanding climbs never let up. The switchbacks up the walls were so steep I would try to push my legs to make them work. I would look up and see no end, I would feel my soul being pulverized. I would get a glimpse of movement from another runner only to get an idea of the magnitude of what agony was ahead of me. The unyielding climb to Devils Thumb was harder than anything I had ever done. The trail kept climbing as did my heart rate, my breathing and intensity of the climb. Without poles I was averaging a 26min/mi. and this was all my blood sweat and tears. Other runners were gaining on me and passing me. I was falling apart and my spirit was fading. Out of fear I started looking for a stick, something to aid in my trudge up. I saw other runners with sticks; I had no shame. I was desperate and fading. I saw a break in the sky, with a glimmer of hope I pressed forward to the top of the mountain. My feeble heart was sparking again as I made that last switchback. Only to be crushed as I turned the corner to see another climb right behind it. My legs were burning; my lips tasted like sweat and I swear I heard banjos calling me home. 

But what voices are we listening to? 

Because I also heard, "You have trained your whole life to climb this Devil..." I knew that the Lord had put me on this mountain. The details were anointed by God himself, and I was not going to quit on the Lord. He never quit on me, and I KNEW that He had a plan and a purpose for me in this race. I knew all the suffering, all the heartache, all the brokenness, I knew addiction, foster homes, abuse, cancer all of it had equipped me for this Devil. I would not let Devils Thumb have me. With God all things are Possible, and I BELEIVED that TRUTH. I also knew it was going to hurt like hell, but hell would not hold me. 

Depleted and numb I heard the victory cries of the Devils Thumb Aid Station echoing through the forest. I knew my family wouldn't be there, but I would get to see humans. The Lord had been really close the last few miles. We had many conversations allowing my heart to be complete in Him that I was not rattled to not have my crew. 

El Dorado Creek 52.9

No Crew Access

6:23pm

I was able to eat some watermelon and fill up my bottles. The aid stations were cup-less. I had been wanting some Coke for caffeine or ginger ale for my belly but couldn't get it because I didn't bring my cup. While running someone had dropped their silicone cup, out of desperation and gratefulness I picked it up off the trail like I found gold! This allowed me to enjoy some carbonated drinks. The sun was beginning to set over the mountains, and the temperatures were even settling down as I got to embrace the downhill towards El Dorado Creek about five miles. Aid station to aid station. Another station without family. My mind trailed off wondering what they were up to. If they would be able to keep me moving. It was closing in on 7pm and exhaustion was starting to take hold.
 

It was a bit creepy seeing the old sign of the famous "Deadwood Cemetery" About a third of the way down and a little reminder of the gold rush days. This 5 mile section was mostly downhill and the trail narrows but the quads were on fire. Approaching the aid station, I felt a shooting pain and knew it was the first of my blisters to blow. I have enough history and experience with blisters to know it is going to burn for about 2 miles, then it will go numb for a while.....But while it burst, I swallowed hard and just owned it with thankfulness that it was only my first one!

The sound of the rushing water at Eldorado Creek was so inviting. The volunteers were eager to cool you off, cheer you on and fill your tank, and they were amazing! 

Michigan Bluff 55.7 miles

7:40pm

I would get to see someone from my crew. I had no idea who, but in 3 miles I would be able to interact with my crew. But until then playtime was not over. Just coming out of the aid station I had another soul crushing climb. The trail literally points UP. However, the beauty that surrounded you also protected you from the burning sun. The pine trees were huge with the largest pinecones I had ever seen. I felt like so miniscule beneath the towering forest. As if the trees were swallowing me, I was just a babe in the ancient pines. As if the massive trees knew I was foreign, I felt they knew I was trespassing and had no business there, especially from Michigan. The trail cut deep into its comfort as it took mine away. My breathlessness was barely a whisper in the elements of agony. I had to go on facts, I knew this climb was not as far, but it was still about 1,800 feet in 3 miles. I had to keep moving, even if I was crawling. 

I lost my rhythm quickly. I was trying so hard to calculate my time with my pace. Adding in the time of day and try to figure out if I was still going to make the 30-hour cut off -if all I could do was a 30-minute mile. 

I had barely recovered from Devils Thumb and still without poles my legs felt like wobble sticks. My heart was beating out of chest like a boxing match and my breathing I think even made the forest feel sorry for me. 

I told the Lord, I wouldn't quit but prayed for perseverance. Or maybe I was begging at that point. 

Rundown: 

The canyons had taken more from me than I ever expected. They stripped away my comfort, tested my courage on the cliffs, and exhilarated me reminding me that Western States doesn't give anything away. You had to earn every mile with more than just strength. 

As the evening shadows shared the skies, I could feel the day catching up to me. Fatigue had tightened its grip and the miles were heavier with every step. But I pressed on with sheer faith and confidence that even though things looked bleak, I wasn't given up hope. 

Somewhere ahead was Michigan Bluff. 

Someone special would be waiting for me. 

The question wasn't whether I wanted to see them, it was whether I could get there before time slipped away.....

In Peace, Not Peaces

Anita