Fox-Runner

Bigfoot 200 is a 206.5 mile trail race in the Cascade mountains in Washington state – a race I that I started on August 9 and completed on August 12.

I finished Bigfoot 200 in 80hr 31min 17sec (20th place) without a crew, without poles, and in a single pair of sneakers.  I changed my socks 12 times, slept 3 hours or less, ate more cheese quesadillas with guacamole than I ever have, drank so much veggie broth I started to smell like it, and still lost 10 to 12 pounds along the way.

After having a couple of rough races, including a medical DNF, it felt good to not only complete Bigfoot 200 but to do it feeling so incredible and so strong crossing the finish line.   Bigfoot 200 was a very interesting experience for me. Looking back, I was the most balanced – mentally, emotionally, physically – that I have ever been during the race. For every “fuck you” I yelled at the trail, there was an equal moment of awe at the beauty of the trail and experience.  For every Taylor Swift song that got stuck in my head, there was a TOOL song that did the same.  

I had 2 goals for Bigfoot 200.  First goal: finish the race. Second goal: finish the race in under 80 hours.  I hit my first goal, but missed my second by a little over 30 minutes. I could sit here and think it sucks that I was so close to being under 80 hours, especially knowing I could have easily cut 30 minutes from my race time.  The funny thing is, running a race that felt so balanced seems like achieving a goal I never knew I had. I train, I run, I run in a black weighted vest at noon under the hot Texas sun, I am always pushing myself to be better. I once heard someone say, a race is the celebration of all your training and hard work.  Bigfoot 200 was one of the three 2019 focus races for me. The feeling of having run such a perfectly balanced race was the proof point for the training and hard work I put in and was truly a celebration of that. Sure I missed my time goal, but so what. I would trade hitting that goal anyday for the type of race I had at Bigfoot.

Like many of my other race reports, this will be more about my experience.  If you are looking for specific details on the trails, check out the Runner’s Manual and links within.  Those will give you much better, more detailed information than I could. If you plan to run Bigfoot 200 and have questions or looking for tips, feel free to reach out to me.

A Couple of Quick Race Stats

Bigfoot 200 is a point-to-point ultra trail race.  Point-to-point means that you are not doing loops and doing a very minimal amount of out-and-backs.  The vast majority (99%) of the race is on trails that you have not run previously during the race. A couple of quick stats:

• 206.5 miles
• ~ 42,500’ cumulative elevation gain (For comparison: Mt. Everest is 29,029’)
• ~ 43,900’ cumulative elevation loss
• 15 aid stations
• 160 runners started 
• 104 (65%) runners finished

Surprise, you’re running Bigfoot 200!

I decided that the 2019 Bigfoot 200 was a race I wanted to run back in 2018.  I talked to AJ, my wife, about it. There were questions about the timing, whether 2019 the right year, about the cost, it is an expensive race especially when you include travel and lodging, and support, and could I find people to crew for me.  AJ then surprised me with a registration to Bigfoot 200 2019 as a Christmas gift. I was excited and started to think about how to find a crew. We asked some of her relatives that live in Washington to crew and they agreed. It looked like I was set.

Preparation: Training, Spreadsheets, Notes, Cross-reference codes, etc.

After my DNF at Georgia Death Race in April, I had a lot going on in my head as I looked towards Bigfoot 200 in August.  Among the many things rattling around: Would I be healthy and fully recovered by the race?  Could I improve my training to be stronger, faster, and better at climbing? What would it mean to DNF again?

Training:

While I was recovering from my rhabdo, I took a real hard look at my training.  I realized that I was focusing more on getting a minimum number of miles done every week, but not the quality or difficulty of those miles.  That needed to change as soon as I recovered.  

The number of hills to train on are limited in the Austin area.  There are some good ones, but they are all short. If I was to get better at climbing, I need to come up with a solution.  I created several workouts:

• Hill repeats at the Hill of Life:  The Hill of Life is a 0.5 mile section of rocky and technical trail with about 250’ of elevation.  Run repeats there – putting a rock on a ledge for every “lap” I did until I was halfway done, then remove a rock for every lap I did.  This meant I made a commitment to the number of laps I would complete at the halfway point, before I was tired. My run was not done until all rocks were removed.
• Weighted Squats, Tire Drag, & Run:  Start the morning with 200x 135lb weighted squats, immediately followed by a 5 mile tire drag on payment, immediately followed by a minimum 6 mile road run.
• Weighted Vest run in the heat:  Run (8:30 min/mi minimum pace) 4 to 5 miles with a 20lb black weighted vest under the midday Texas sun.

Each week I would do a minimum of 2 of these workouts, in addition to my regular workout and running routines.

Drop bags:

About 6 weeks out from the race, it became apparent that I would run Bigfoot without a crew.  This meant I needed to really plan and strategize my drop bags. Drop bags were allowed at all but one aid station.  Some of the drop bags would move from one station to a later station and some aid stations offered sleep tents.  

I downloaded the runner’s manual, read through it, made a spreadsheet of important notes and questions, and started making mental notes on what I needed.  Due to the fact that I was flying out to the race, everything needed to fit in my duffle and have a total max weight around 40 pounds. Since life and work had been so busy, I actually started to carry around the runner’s manual, a notebook, and a pencil in my bag so I could review and take notes on drop bags at anytime.  I had each bag coded with letters and numbers to indicate what the bag would be used for as well as the size/type of bag. My notes were also coded so I could cross-reference my runner’s manual notes, notebook, and spreadsheet.

I did an initial packing of each bag to determine any gear and food I needed, then I created a shopping list of those items.  As much as I tried to prepare, I knew in a 200+ mile race, that I had never run before, there was no way to know how long different sections would take or what I would need at that location.  I made sure each bag had at least the following items: socks, foot care kit, calories from 3 different textures: gel, chewy (gummy or jelly bean), and solid (granola, nuts, etc.). I had to pick which specific bags would have battery backups for charging my phone, caffeinated fuel, spare headlamps, full change of clothes, spare shoes, etc.  Once I figured all that out, I had created a mountain of various sized ziplock bags that were labeled and coded for which bigger bag they would go into. They idea was to make it as easy as I could to “repack” the drop bags when I go to Seattle.

After the bags were packed, I made my usual comment, “I am packing too much stuff.”  To which AJ replied, “You say that every race.”

Pre-Race 

The day before the race was dedicated to the race administrative stuff.  This included race check-in, bib pickup, mandatory gear check, mandatory medical check, course review, race meeting, and mugshots.  While hanging out, I met a couple of other Texas runners (they recognized my Possum’s Revenge race shirt). I chatted with them for a while.  Then I headed back to my motel room for dinner and a good night’s rest.

Since this was a point-to-point race, I took the morning shuttle from the end-point to the start-point.  The buses were headed out at 5:45am. I woke up at about 3am to start getting ready for the race. I took my time to have a good breakfast, applied my elevation tattoo (I love this idea and wish more races would do something similar), pack up my room and head to the finish point.  When I got there, I ran into Joel, a friend that was pacing another racer. It was good to see him and catch a bit before jumping on a bus.

The bus ride was long, bumpy, and curvy.  Thankfully I remembered to take my dramamine.  It was a cool ride. I ended up sitting in front of Catra and near a couple of Bigfoot veterans, so I got to hear some cool race stories before falling asleep.

At the start point, there was an energy in the air.  It was a good mix of nervous energy, excitement, and calmness.  I heard so many runners vocally second guessing their pack set-up, the amount of water they were carrying, etc.  I picked up my SPOT tracker, ate a piece of a chocolate chip muffin, and took a few photos. I was pretty calm; I had done all my second guessing before I flew out to Seattle.  Now was the time to focus on the race. It was “time to ‘be water’” I told myself.

Race Day 1: The Volcano and The Storm

The race started at 9am.  I set off at a moderate pace.  I had my gps watch set to “ultra” mode to conserve battery, but the tracking in that mode plus the remote-ness of the area made it impossible to figure out the pace I was running.  It had so many different readings from 5 min/mi to 42 min/mi. That said, I was happy with my pace, I was making good progress and not over doing it. I did a quick hike up inclines and easy run on flat and downhills.  The weather was great, it dry and overcast. We could hear thunder in the distance, but it seemed very far away.

It was this first section that was probably my favorite part of the course.  The route went around Mount St. Helens, over and up the old lava flows and rocks.  I even stopped to take a minute to capture a couple of photos and pick up two lava rocks for my rock/mineral loving daughter.  There were also some water crossings, a rope climb, and sandy hill climbs.  

About 25 miles in (from my best estimate), I ran out of water and was hoping and searching for some.  We came across a fast moving stream filled with white, cloudy, silty water. Since I needed water and I had my mandatory water filter fixed into my bladder tube, I filled up my bladder with the silty water.  “At least, I will get a bunch of my minerals while I drink.” The water was thick and took effort to suck through the filter. Of course, as soon as I started moving, I came across a beautifully clear fast moving stream.  Oh well, I already filled the bladder with the silt water and didn’t feel like stopping again.

I hit the aid station about 30 miles into the race.  I took the opportunity to change my socks (since they got wet), empty, clean, and refill my bladder, and restock on fuel supplies.  I downed 2 small cups of water and 1 of Tailwind before heading out.

Over the next 2 sections, I felt like I was moving too slow.  Runners passed me and were pulling out ahead of me. I reminded myself that I was running my own race and we had not even hit the 50 mile point yet, anything can and will happen.

It was getting dark as I came into the Coldwater Lake aid station, but the station was buzzing full of energy.  The volunteers had set up a menu board of the food they had, plus there was a covered and tarp/carpeted are for runners to use.  They asked me for what I wanted. I ordered a cup of lentil soup while they brought my drop bag over.

I sat down and took care of my feet while taking sips of the lentil soup.  It was misting outside and more runners started to show up. I put my stuff together, got my headlamp ready and was right about to leave when a huge crack of thunder hit and it started to pour.  The aid station and volunteers scrambled to get all their stuff out of the rain while all the runners that were outside squeezed into the tent. Runners were asking the volunteers if they had any news on the weather, was this storm going to pass quickly or continue on.  I heard one of the volunteers say it was expected to be heavy for the next 15 minutes or so, then switch to a light misting rain.  

I decided to wait it out for a bit.  I ordered another cup of soup and tried to stand out of the way of the runners and volunteers.  After I finished my second soup, I put my rain gear on and decided to wait another five minutes to see if the storm let up.  After 5 minutes, it was still raining, but much lighter. It had also gotten pretty dark. I ran to the bathroom, then was off on the trails.  

For the first 15-20 minutes, the rain came down but it was not too heavy.  Then with a loud crack of thunder, it started to pour again. The temperatures started to drop.  I was only wearing a t-shirt, light wind-proof rain jacket, but luckily I had my warm hat. It wasn’t too long before my jacket was soaked through.  This was not going to be a quick or light storm. Based on conversations after the race, the estimated temperature was in the low 40s. I knew I needed to do something to keep warm.  I found a spot under some fallen trees that was relatively dry. I took out my emergency blanket (one of the required gear items), made it into a toga like covering over my rain jacket and beneath my hydration vest.  It worked well. It was water proof and kept my core warm. My hands were still freezing and my fingers lost their fine motor skills. As I continued on the trail, I was moving slow but I was moving forward. I did not see anyone in front of behind me.

As I was ascending Mount Margaret, the highest point of the race, the storm got worse.  Lightning was striking within 300 to 400 feet of where I was, lighting up the entire area I was in.  Rain turned to hail and the temperature continued to drop. The trail as harder to follow. My headlamp light was reflecting off the rain and hail in the air, making it hard to identify the confidence markers.  I saw the sign pointing to the out-and-back Mount Margaret climb, I knew this nightmare of a section was going to get easier.  

“What an experience so far,” I thought.  My mind was focused on surviving, keep moving and make it to the next aid station.  It was on this descent I had one of my scariest moments of the race. The trail was running along the side of the mountain with a drop off on the left.  I came up to a section that was very narrow with a gap that was washed out from the rain. I turned and faced the mountain side grabbed 2 rocks that were sticking out and took my first step across the gap.  I placed my left foot across the gap and began to shift my weight to my left foot, the trail beneath it just collapsed. My left hand slipped off the wet rock and I felt my body fall. I was able to grab another rock with my left hand while my right hand and right foot remained relatively stable.  I fell down about 12 inches and my left foot just dangled there. I pulled myself up a bit, knowing my grip was not going to last much longer. I placed my left foot onto a stable piece of trail then pushed off with my right foot and hand, landing on the other side of the gap. I remember thinking it felt like that common scene in movies when someone is trying to escape on a building ledge and chunk of the ledge below their lead foot breaks away.  “That was scary,” I thought before continuing on my way.

I got into the Norway Pass aid station around 2:30am.  I was wet, cold, tired and some blurriness had started in my right eye.  I decided that I would get some sleep here because they had sleeping tents.  There were other racers curled up under wool blankets in front of the heaters.  The aid station volunteers got my drop bag and a cup of warm veggie broth. I looked through my bag to see what I had packed for myself.  Thankfully when I was planning I knew it was a possibility that I would end up sleeping at this aid station and packed my drop bag accordingly.  Due to the rain, the inside of my bag was wet. I had a second cup of broth and asked the volunteers where I could sleep. She showed me the tent and asked when I wanted to wake up, I told her 2 hours.  I took out my contacts so my eyes could rest and heal.

The storm hit hard and came out of nowhere which took many of the aid stations and runners by surprise.  This meant a lot of stuff got wet or collected water, including our drop bags and the sleep tent. The first mat I layed down on was floating in at least an inch of water.  The blanket started to soak up the water and there was no way I could stay dry and warm. So I moved to another mat that was less wet wrapped the wool blanket around me and pulled my emergency blanket over me.  While not very comfortable, I started to fall asleep when someone opened the tent and water rained down from the roof onto my face. I pulled the emergency blanket over my face and head and tried to get more sleep.  I got between one to one and a half hours of sleep before I woke up and felt the need to keep going.

I got up, took care of my feet, put on a new shirt, and had another cup of veggie broth with a cheese quesadilla covered in guacamole.  I decided to run with my glasses on to give my eyes more time to recover. I sat in front of the heater trying to warm up and dry off some of gear before leaving the aid station.  It was about 6:30am when I left to begin my second day of running.

Race Day 2: The Mind Wanders

Day 2 blurs together for me.  While it did not rain during the day, all the plants and leaves in the forest were soaked from the rain the previous night.  That meant that from my waist down, I was pretty much soaked all day long. 

Most of the day I ran by myself which meant my mind wandered a lot.  People always ask me, do I plan what to think about or what not to think about.  The answer is no; I don’t try to control my thoughts. I view this time, when I am alone, tied, and have gotten over the initial excitement of the race, very much like meditation.  I allow thoughts to enter my mind. If a thought is worth thinking about, then I spend the time on it. If it is not, then I let the thought pass and a new one take its place.

Some of the more interesting thoughts that occupied my time:

• Finish time math: I calculated and recalculated what my current pace was, how long it would take me to finish the race, what aid station would I sleep/take a break at.
• After race plans: Based on timing, it looked like I would finish the race on Monday.  I had a motel room booked for Tuesday night, not Monday. So I thought of different options for Monday after the race, such as how could I get a shower, did I want to try to get a motel room, what kind of dinner would I have, how and where would I get my post-race chocolate milk, etc.  Because I had a lot of time I explored every option, the probability of each, and my plan of attack.
• Wine and cannabis tours of Napa or Sonoma California: I wondered if California wine country has embraced the legalization of marijuana.  Were they offering wine and cannabis tours of the countryside? What would the logistics of that look like?  Would they have separate smoking rooms or gardens? I wasn’t interested in partaking in the “tastings”, I just wanted to know/see if it was happening.  Having been on many winery tours, I did get a chuckle about imagining some old family run winery talking about how they have been secretly cultivating organic marijuana for years and that now they can finally talk about and share their product. 

As day turned to night and the sleep deprivation started to take hold, the mild hallucinations begin.  I was expecting this to happen, so I just keep reminding myself that I can’t trust everything I see. Some of my best and most common hallucinations included:

• Seeing human-like figures in the trees and forest.  I was seeing so many interesting ones, I actually thought that I should get a photographer to run with me in the future, take pictures of what I was looking at and title it with what I thought it was.  Examples: “Lady with dog waiting for a bus”, “Asian woman ready for her massage”, “Man fixing his motorcycle”, “White wolf sculpture”, and at least 30 more.
• Seeing words and numbers written on the trail.  I never read was written on the trail since I knew it was not really there.
• My favorite hallucination was when I thought I saw a kid on the trail wanting to give me a high-five for encouragement.  I totally fell for this one and ended up high-fiving a tree branch.

Once it started to get really dark, I decided I would make it to the Lewis River aid and sleep station.  It was the next most reasonable one in terms of the distance. On the trail from Spencer Butte to Lewis River, I felt like I was seeing less confidence markers then previously and was getting worried about getting lost.  Combine that feeling, the lack of sleep, and the fact that all the trails and areas started to look the same and seemed to have branching paths, I was getting extremely concerned if I was headed in the wrong direction. Luckily another racer, Tony, had caught up to me.  He was having many of the same concerns, so we decided to stick together until the Lewis River aid station. We had to keep referencing the map to make sure we were making forward progress. Eventually we made it into aid station. I decided I would take my time here to sleep, eat, change, and cleanup a bit.

After changing and having some veggie broth, I went to the sleep tent.  This one was mostly dry and had big inflatable mattresses. I laid down on one and sunk to the bottom.  I pulled the wool blanket over me and tried to sleep. I sleep on and off for about an hour and a half. When I finally woke up, I was shivering from the cold.  I put on a long sleeve shirt, had some more veggie broth and another cheese quesadilla with guacamole while trying to warm up in front of the heater. After a short while, I decided I would warm up quicker if I started running.  So at about 4 in the morning I left the aid station to start my third day of running.

Race Day 3: More of the Same

Starting day 3, I was tired and cold, but I was dry.  As I entered back into the woods, I was worried about not finding the right given the trouble we had the previous night.  It wasn’t too long before I was on the right path.

The day started with a big climb.  Overall, my pace was slower, but I kept moving forward.  I let my mind wander in and out of thoughts, memories, songs, etc.  it was pretty peaceful. Before I knew it, I was at the next aid station.  The forest was still wet, therefore so was I. By this point in the race, I was running into the same group of runners and crews at the aid stations.  One of the British racers confused everyone when he asked for some “kitchen roll.” I have no idea how, but I knew that he meant paper towels and translated it for him.  Kevin, one of the other racers, was bummed to discover “kitchen roll” was not a food.

I breezed through the next section to arrive at the Chain of Lakes aid station.  It was pretty quiet there. My plan was to take an extended stop so I could charge my phone battery.  Originally, I thought this would be one of the stations I would sleep at. As I waited for my phone to charge, the other runners started to arrive.  We found out that we were right around place 20, which was much better than any of thought. I once again ate a cheese quesadilla with guacamole and some Tailwind.  After about 20 minutes, I was anxious to get going again. One of the aid station volunteers mentioned that the next two sections were the most difficult of the race with overgrown brush, river crossings, and some sketchy climbs.  My goal was to get as much of it done before dark. Since we were going into our third night and my headlamp was showing some moisture on the inside of the case, I grabbed the spare headlamp I left in this drop bag and started on my way.

As I started on the path, I was feeling fatigued and a little nervous about the section ahead of me.  I had run over 140 miles already and it would be about 18 miles until the next aid with 3 big river crossings along the way.  

The first river crossing looked wild.  The water was very fast moving and silty, so I couldn’t see how deep it was, and there was a rope set up to help people cross.  After taking a picture and a quick video of the river, I grabbed the rope and crossed over. Luckily, it wasn’t too deep, but it was very fast.

The next interesting bit of this story happened at the last river crossing on the trail.  The river was quite wide and it took me a few moments to figure out where the trail continued on the other side.  As I stepped into the river, I noticed some rustling in the bushes across the way next to trail opening. At first I thought, is that one of the photographers trying to get in position for a cool shot of runners crossing the river.  Nope … what emerged from the bushes was a brown bear. I proclaimed out loud, “That’s a mother fuckin’ brown bear!” It came out of the bush, walked down the trail, into the river, and started to swim upstream. I just stood there, in the river, watching the bear very closely.  “Oh man, I need to get a picture because everyone will think this is just a hallucination.”  

I took my vest off, pulled out my phone, starting taking it out of the zip-lock bag, when it hit me – “I am standing in a river, trying to take out my phone, while watching a bear – this is going to end badly.”  I stepped out of the river, got my phone, and snapped a blurry, “bear-ly” recognizable shot of the bear swimming. “Maybe Bigfoot is real and this is what happens to all the people that try to take his picture.”

After taking a couple of pictures, I watched the bear continue to swim upstream while scanning the trail to see if he had any friends with him.  After about a minute, I decided to cross the river, keeping an eye on the bear and the path. Once I got across, I thought, “What if there are more bears?  What if this bear doubles back? … What do you do for bears? … What is the little saying about the difference between brown and black bears? … I can’t remember … Just do what I would do for all wild animals, starting making lots of noise.”

Woop-woop! That’s the sound of da police! 
Woop-woop! That’s the sound of the beast!

I started singing KRS-One’s Sound of Da Police as loud as I could.  Why did I choose that song?  I have no idea, but it worked.  I did not see any more bears.

As I continued on the way, it started to get dark and started to rain again.  I was feeling pretty good, but I had no idea how far I traveled or how much I had left.  Soon I was hit with more climbing. The climb is one of the toughest and longest. The temperature was dropping, the rain was falling, it was dark, and the steam rising from my body was creating a fog-like effect on my headlamp.  The trail felt hard to follow with sparsely placed confidence markers. Everything was looking the same with lots of twists and turns, ups and downs. I began to feel like I was going in circles. I wasn’t trusting what I was seeing.  I started to repeatedly check the GPS Tracks app. The cold and wetness was getting to me. Without a doubt, this was the lowest part of the race for me. I didn’t want to quit, but I wanted the trail to be different, to feel confident I was making progress, to just make it to the next aid station.  It felt like I was losing my grip. The world around me looked like it was getting darker as I was getting colder and wetter. I decided to try my other headlamp. It was the change I needed, my other headlamp light was slowly dying and I had not actually noticed. I switch headlamps and had a little life and energy breathed into me.

Soon I saw the sign pointing to the Elk Peak out and back.  It was a clear sign of progress. I started the climb. It was tough and slick, but I had a focus.  I tapped the sign at the top with my hand and wanted to sprint down to the aid station. The trail felt very slick and slippery.  I did my best to quickly descent from Elk Peak, sometimes crab walking to keep moving as fast as I could.  

When I rolled into the Klickitat Aid Station, it full of runners that looked weary and cold.  They were huddled around the heater, wrapped up in blankets. I asked for some veggie broth and my drop bag as I found a chair.  I felt just like the rest of the runners. The last section took a lot out of me, mentally and physically. This aid station was not a sleep station, so there was no place to take a quick nap.  A couple of the other runners rolled out and I moved to a spot in front of the heater. Even though I knew I could sleep here, I decided to take out my contacts to give my eyes a break.  

Kevin and Tony entered the aid station not too long after me.  They had made a good pace Soon, many of the other runners and crew that have meeting up at the recent aid stations started to show up.  This is always an enjoyable shared experience during ultras – meeting up with the other runners that are going at a relatively similar pace and dealing with the same conditions and sharing stories from the most recent section.

Chatting with Kevin and Tony, their plan was to rest for a little while then tackle the next section at night.  Kevin ran Bigfoot 200 last year and was familiar with the difficulty of the section. As he was talking about it, I realized that I should either run the section with someone else or rest long enough to get my senses back.  I decided to ask Kevin and Tony if I could join them on the next section. They said of course.

The three of us stayed at the aid station a little longer, fixing our feet, eating some food, and drying out as much of our clothes as we could.  We were getting things done, but moving slow. At this stage in a race or event, you feel like you are moving at normal speed but that time keeps skipping ahead by a few minutes.  Soon enough, we were all packed up and ready to go with Tony taking the lead.

For the first part of the trail, Kevin and I were talking a lot.  I knew the best thing to keep me and the others in the moment and not drifting away was to talk.  Kevin did a great job of keeping me talking when we started when I need it most. Then I took over, getting Kevin and Tony to talk when they seemed to need it.  In a lot of ways, it did not matter what we were discussing as long as we were active in the discussion. That said, we got to know each other a lot better.

The Klickitat to Twin Sisters trail was gnarly, dangerous, faint, and overgrown.  The climbs and descents were scary at parts. There were parts that felt like my life depended on my faith in the grippiness of my shoes.  If I believed I would not fall off the mountain, then I would not. At times, the trail tested my belief that I am not scared of heights. I would just look off to the left and the downslope would disappear into an abyss of darkness.  I had no idea how high I was up, but it was high enough that my headlamp could not penetrate the darkness.

Tony and Kevin were doing awesome, but the lack of sleep was really beginning to hit Kevin.  He just wanted to find a place to lay down. He tried to stop and lay down at the summit of Mission Mountain. Luckily, we were able to talk him out of staying because we would have froze up there.  

Once we got back on a wide trail, we stopped for a few minutes to eat some calories.  Tony took the opportunity to take a quick dirt nap on the trail. He was out as soon as he laid down.  Kevin and I gave him about five minutes while we ate. When we woke Tony up, he was amazingly refreshed and ready to go.  That five minutes of sleep on the ground in the middle of the trail revitalized him.

We continued to talk about our race experience so far and Kevin mentioned he had hoped to see a cougar and I talked about my bear sighting.  Tony was back in the lead, I was second, and Kevin was in the rear. Tony suddenly stopped. “Do you see that?” At this point in the race, everyone had hallucinated and knew not to trust their our eyes.  “Is that an animal?” Tony asked.

I looked and saw 2 small reflective dots, eye width apart in front of us.  “Yes, I think it is some kind of animal,” I replied.  

“That’s a cougar,” Kevin said.

“It’s definitely an animal.  It looks like a cat.” I replied. 

“That’s a cat of some kind,” Tony replied.

We were all convinced that what sat in front of us was a cat-like animal, but we did differ on the kind of cat.  We split up to look at it from different angles, careful not to get any closer in case it was dangerous. As I moved, I was convinced it was a cat.  “I see a cat, but it is not moving,” I stated.

Slowly, we all moved forward, then we could see that it was just the shapes in the forest and a confidence marker.  What had happened was one of the ribbons fell over the reflective strip, separating into 2 small reflective dots that were eyes’ width apart.  

The sun was beginning to come up and my energy levels we rising as well.  Kevin was fighting exhaustion and tiredness pretty hard. He finally made the call that he needed to lay down and rest.  I asked Tony and Kevin if they would mind If I continued without them. I felt great and wanted to take advantage of it. They seemed cool with me continuing.  I thanked them for their help and started out on my own again.

I want to pause and say a huge thank you to Kevin and Tony.  Without their help and company on the trail, at least one of the three options would have been my fate: 

1. I would have stayed at the aid station or camped early on the trail to wait for daylight, adding hours to my finish time.
2. I would have lost it mentally and/or emotionally.
3. I would have injured myself by tripping or falling on the trail.

In the end, without those two awesome guys, I would have not finished in the time I did.

Back on my own, I tried to keep a quicker pace going, but I did get distracted by the amazing views surrounding me as the sun was rising.  I had to remind myself to take advantage of and appreciate the race and where I was. So I stopped, drank it all in and even took a few photos.

As I continued onto the Twin Sister’s aid station, it felt like a never ending trail.  I had no sense of much further it was, but I had convinced myself I was almost there. I passed the intersection to continue the race after the out and back to Twin Sisters.  “Almost there,” I thought. Of course, that is all relative and I was faced with multiple climbs and descents on a trail that dropped off the mountain on one side. I saw some familiar faces going in the opposite direction on the way.  Soon enough, Kevin caught up to me. We entered the the aid station together.

I knew that I had made it pat the hardest part of the race.  After this aid station, there was only 29 miles of relatively easy trail left.  The race had taken its toll and I needed to take the time to take care of myself before the final push if I wanted to finish strong.  I took off my shoes to let my feet dry out, changed my shirt and compression shorts, and reapplied BodyGlide. I ate another cheese quesadilla with guacamole, drank a cup of veggie broth and a cup of Tailwind.  As I tried to apply tape to my foot, it would not stick. I decided to ask the medic team for help. They said that it looked like my feet were too wet for any tape to stick. I moved in front of the heater and put my feet up.  When I did, I could see steam coming off them. “Whoa, my feet are steaming,” I said out loud.

“Sure, you’re not hallucinating,” replied one of the aid station volunteers.

“Nope, they really are,” replied the medic.  He looked at me and said, “Let me know when they stop steaming.  We should be able to apply the tape then.” I thought this is like cooking waffles; you know it is done when the steam stops.

It did not take too long.  The medic reapplied the tape and added a little more to a couple of hot spots that had developed.  So far, my feet were doing really well. I let my feet dry out a little more as I repacked the snacks in my pack and had a hot chocolate.  I had forgotten that I packed myself a special treat for this late in the race, a Reece’s Puff Snack Bar. I put that aside to have on the way out.  Soon, Kevin was ready to go. He stopped by and told Tony and I that he was headed out, he wanted to push a quick pace to the end. We wished him luck.  I decided to start packing up. Tony and I decided to head out together. I let him know that I was comfortable if he wanted to go faster and leave me behind.  He said the same to me. I knew he had an advantage on the climbs, and I had the advantage on the descents. As we left, I ate my Reece’s Puff bar, which tasted fantastic.  It was the change of texture and flavors that I needed.

It was soon after we left, that I had a realization that I shared with Tony.  “I am really tired of running next to my death,” I said as I pointed to the drop off the mountain to our right.  We stayed pretty close together for the first couple of miles. Once we climbed out of the out-and-back to Twin Sisters, I let Tony know I really felt like going for it.  

The feel of the trail started to look and feel different.  The sun was out and it was warm in the sun, cool in the shade.  I was feeling good and started to run. I slowed down when the trail became a little technical, knowing that my reaction speed was slow.

Before I knew it, I was at the final peak climb of the race.  As I ascending Pompey Peak, I saw Kevin. He seemed surprised to see me so soon.  When I the top of Pompey, I immediately turned around and started back down. Then it hit me, this is a unique opportunity with great views without the cloud cover that has been there the entire race.  I stopped, turned around and went back to the peak. I took a couple of photos, plus a panoramic of the area. I was very nervous about being one of those people that fall off a mountain trying to take a photo.  Once I got a couple of good ones, I repacked my phone and started back. On my way down, I crossed paths with Tony. I picked up my pace back up and was the time and distance was flying by.

Soon, I hit a fire road and caught up to Kevin.  “You’re must be really moving,” he said to me. I slowed down to chat with him.  He told me we had about 8 more miles of this road. That killed my spirit. While there way more distance left to aid station than I thought, it was the fact that we would be running on this boring trail for 8 miles that really did it.  He had also mentioned that he was just on the phone with his coach and also with his wife and that we were in 23rd and 24th place. That was a lot better than I thought we were. We also looked at the time and thought there was a chance we could make it in under 80 hours.  After a little bit of walking and talking, he let me know that he was going to pick up the pace and try to make it in under 80 hours. I wished him luck and let him know that I was going to slow down for a bit, maybe picking it up a little later.

I started to think about the time and distance I had left.  I realized that I would finish on Monday, but had no place to stay or get cleaned up after the race.  I thought, if I finish early enough I could ask for AJ’s help to call the motel I was staying at on Tuesday night to see if they had a room for me on Monday.  If possible, I could use the same room both nights. In order to do that, I would need to finish while the front desk was still open. That motivated me to finish this race.  I decided – it was time to finish this race. I picked up my pace.

I caught up to Kevin and started chatting.  Before I knew it, we were rolling up to the final aid station.  The volunteers there were super fresh, happy, energetic, and thrilled to see more runners.  My plan had been to quickly refuel at the aid station and continue on my way, but Kevin mentioned that he was going to change his socks.  I realized, I still have a half-marathon after this aid station. “Don’t be stupid,” I told myself. I sat down, refilled my bladder, had a cup of Tailwind, and decided to change my socks as well.  I was in a state of happy delirium. I am pretty sure Kevin and I put on a good show of happy nonsense for volunteers. More than once, I lost my clean socks that I was planning to change into. Once the socks and shoes were back on, I decided to pack my Texas Heat Trail Mix (another special treat I packed myself for late in the race) in my vest and order a quesadilla with guacamole to-go.    I repacked my stuff, thanked the volunteers, folded quesadilla in half and started walking the final leg of the race. Kevin went out at a quick pace, I was taking it slow so I could eat my food.

It turned out I was hungrier than I knew.  After devouring the quesadilla, I ate all the Texas Heat trail mix.  I continued to walk, letting the food settle. The fire road was easy and started to descend.  I pulled out my phone, saw I had a lot of battery left. I thought, “Man, I wish I had brought my headphones … Wait a minute, I am out here alone.  This is no one around. I could just play my music on the speaker.”

I continued to walk, filling up my music queue with some real bangers than hit play.  With the music pumping, energy from the food, a great temperature, and easy looking trail ahead of me, I took off running.  Within a couple of minutes I made up some time and could see Kevin in front of me. I paused the music as we ran together a short distance until the path turned onto the road.  

The Final Leg: I am going to KILL IT!!!

As soon as I hit the road, I could feel the heat from the sun and the heat coming off the pavement.  It was hot and sunny. My phone was playing awesome songs from my running playlist. It then hit me, “This feels like I am running at home.  In fact, this is where I have the advantage – running in summer under the hot Texas sun. These other runners may have the mountains they can train on and climb, but they don’t have the heat like I do.  It is time to use this to my advantage and kill the final section of the race.” My quick pace turned into a run – a run that felt great. I don’t know how fast I was going, but it felt fast. I turned back and could no longer see Kevin.  

Then to my surprise, I saw another runner in front of me.  I was not expecting that. I could see he was struggling. His gate was wobbly and his poles were dragging on the ground.  I called out when I was about to pass him and totally scared him. He was not expecting to see another runner, especially one that came up behind him so quickly.  I kept running.

I slowed down to a quick walk to give myself a short break.  I reloaded my music queue, then was running again. Ahead of me, I saw another runner.  “No way,” I thought, “there is no way I caught up to someone else.” Sure enough I had. I accidently scared him as well as I passed.  I kept on running, hoping to see more signs that I was headed in the right direction as well as get a sense of how much longer I had.

Then I started to recognize where I was.  The finish line was close. Unfortunately, I had to stop to cross the main street.  I looked behind and could not see any signs of the runners I had passed. By my calculations, I was going to miss my under 80 hour, but not by much and I was going to finish in 20th place.  It was killing me to have to wait to close the road. It felt like I was in a race, I felt like I needed to push myself, that slowing down and/or stopping was making me anxious. Soon, I had the light and could cross the road.  My water bladder was empty, which sucked because of how hot it felt but also meant I had less weight to carry and was another incentive to finish soon. I slowed down a bit to add more music to my queue – real bangers that would keep my pace up.

I turned into the school parking lot and did get a little confused on where to go.  Once I saw the opening to the track, I knew this was it. With DMX’ X Gon Give It To Ya blasting on my phone, I quickened my pace, determined to only speed up on the track.  I sprinted around the track and across the finish line. It felt great. Volunteers and runners welcomed me.  Many of them said that was the fastest they had seen someone run the track so far, which made me feel great. It was a blur of activity.  I leaned over to catch my breath and let the finish hit me. Without realizing it, they had my vest off and had shuttled me over to the after race photo.  Then over to the chairs in the shade where I saw some of the other finishers, runners I met over the race, as well as Joel who was pacing a runner. I felt great but was definitely over stimulated.  I had a hard time sitting still or engaging in a conversation. I got some water, took off my shoes and socks, and gave AJ a call to let her know I was done.

After we talked, I realized I never picked up my buckle or other finisher gear.  I went picked out my buckle and collected my swag. I heard back from AJ that she was able to get me a room at the motel for the night.  Everything was awesome.

I decided to hang out until Kevin finished.  It was an awesome finish. When he hit the track, there were 2 runners in front of him and he was able to pass one of them, which was great.  He mentioned how he really want to sprint with/against someone on the track. After he finished, we caught up and saw that Tony was not too far behind.  I wanted to see Tony finish as well. We had shared such a unique and awesome experience, there was no way I was going to leave before they crossed the finish line.  After Tony finished, I decided it was time to get back to the motel to clean up and eat. My adrenaline would only keep me going so long before I crashed.

I made it to motel safely.  I was able to shower and made it halfway through my dinner before I fell asleep eating.  I woke up a short time later, put the rest of my dinner in the fridge, brushed my teeth and went to bed.

The next day, I went back to the finish line to collect my drop bags and stay for the race dinner and awards ceremony.  It was fun, most of the racers and crew I met along the way were there. We got to catch up, share stories, and compare the state of our feet.  It was a great way to close out Bigfoot 200.

Final Thoughts

Bigfoot 200 was a fantastic race for me.  It was one of the best and my favorite race experiences.  I finished the race feeling great, in good shape, without poles, without a crew, and in a sprint with a smile on my face.  

After a couple of bad races, Bigfoot 200 really reminded me why I run ultra trail marathons and why I train so hard.  It also reminded me that I need to celebrate the race I am running.  

This race is not for everyone.  But if you are at all interested in running it, sign up show up, and make it happen.  It is worth it.

Thank Yous

• Kevin & Tony for letting me join them on the Klickitat to Twin Sister Trail.
• Destination Trail Races, Candice Burt, the race directors, organizers, and team of Bigfoot 200 for putting on a great race.
• The aid station volunteers who always willing and eager to help and feed me and the other racers. They made running without a crew a lot easier.
• The medic that helped tape my feet at Twin Sisters.
• The volunteer HAM radio operators for keeping tabs on all the racers.
• The photographers for capturing all those awesome moments.

Other Race Reports

Of course, I was not the only one that ran this race and took the time to write up a report.  Here are some race reports from other runners that took on the 2019 Bigfoot 200:

• https://www.liveultrarunning.com/post/bigfoot-200-part-1-ashes-to-ashes by Julie Moulton (who took way more photos than me)
• https://snackrules.com/bigfoot-200-race-report/
• https://www.facebook.com/groups/Bigfoot200/permalink/2385966798317322/