Earlier this year, Topo athletes were invited to run one of the distances at the Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Run (TRTER), a collection of races held on the northeast side of Lake Tahoe. Topo athletes since March, Nick and I both jumped at the opportunity, Nick wanting to run a 100-mile race this summer and myself looking for a fun 50K event. Despite being out in Lake Tahoe in mid-June for Broken Arrow, a month later we made the 7 hour drive to Carson City.
Nick and I were mellow on the drive out, perhaps because we’re both experienced runners and it takes a fair amount to faze us with regard to racing or maybe because temperatures were well above normal and we were feeling the heat. As we pulled into our lodging for the weekend, I glanced at the temperature: 97F. Tomorrow’s race would be hot!
Our Topo teammate, Charlie Ware, was there to greet us when we got in, and we spent the rest of the evening preparing our packs, talking about racing and how we approach races psychologically. These conversations are always fascinating, as I find that runners of any level think of races differently. As a coach, I see this with the athletes that I work with—some are hyper-focused, wanting to dial in every aspect of their race while others feel anxious and stressed until the first step of the race finally begins. I find myself in a smaller group, where I’m rarely stressed about an upcoming race, whether it’s 6 months or 6 hours from now. More on that another time.
All photos by Alpine Media House.
Since Topo was the official sponsor of TRTER, we were asked to arrive early to the race start the next morning, especially since Nick’s 100-mile race was beginning an hour earlier than ours. Our alarms went off at 3:45 am and 45 minutes later Nick and I had met up with Topo teammates Charlie and Zac Marion, along with the photographer. Charlie would be running the 50-mile race and Zac, like me, would be running the 55K.
At 5 am, I hugged Nick goodbye and he was off on his race! I spent the next hour readying my own gear, sipping my tea, and then walking over to the start, where the national anthem was played. By now, the sun had risen and I was thankful to not be wearing a headlamp. I was even more thankful I didn’t have to carry it throughout the race.
I found myself near the front from the start, maybe five or six people back along with Charlie and Zac. The 55K and the 50-mile races follow the same route at the beginning, which made it difficult to tell who was in which race. At mile one, however, you can be first or last and it doesn’t ultimately have an impact, as I’d soon find out. Within the first five minutes, I followed the front pack as they veered away from the fire road and onto single track. Was this the right way? Where had everyone behind us suddenly gone?
If you ever doubt yourself during a race, here’s your sign to turn around because your first instinct is probably the correct one.
The group of us followed the trail for several minutes before realizing this was not going up, and race instructions told us we had a big climb ahead of us. So, we turned around, a little deflated and a bit anxious. By now, most runners had passed us, and I found myself slowly re-passing runners on the 9 mile climb up to the first aid station. I alternated between jogging and hiking, remembering that this was a long race and the day would be hot. First and foremost, I had to stay within my limits.
At the Snow Valley Peak aid station, I refilled my water, grabbed a piece of fruit, and continued on, leap frogging with Zac. Charlie had pulled away and the field had dispersed, with a few men ahead of me. I could feel the altitude, but the day hadn’t heated up fully yet and I was eating well.
The next few miles wove up and down through meadows and, lower down, open forests. The views were beautiful, with Lake Tahoe far below. Lupine and mule ears bloomed around us and I strained to identify a a woodpecker that flew across the trail (a downfall of life as both a runner and birder). The smell of warm pine was thick in the air and the downhill miles were pleasant. Even so, I tried not to focus on the fact that since this race was an out-and-back, every step downhill now would be a step uphill later.
For the next few miles, I continued to focus on eating every 30 minutes or so, and while I’ve never had stomach issues during races, I was particularly content with the nutrition strategy I developed for this rae. Since Nick was running the 100-mile race and no drop bags were allowed in the 55K race, I had to carry all of my nutrition for the day on me. Finding the right balance can be tough, because I also detest having a heavy pack. With that in mind, I brought five Precision Fuel 90 gels, which total 360 calories each. While in an ideal scenario, I would want to aim for one of these an hour, carrying seven to eight gels wasn’t practical, so I made the goal of also relying on some aid station food. I also carried two 500mL flasks, though only filled one for the first half of the race.
As the minutes went by, so too did the miles. Zac and I continued to chat, and as the conversation dwindled I think we both started to wonder when we’d hit the halfway point. I heard my watch beep 15, 16, 17, 18 miles and still I wasn’t at the turn around point at Tunnel Creek Aid Station. A mile later, I heard the cowbells and cheers of the volunteers and picked up my pace, excited to finally arrive. If you take away anything from this race report, let it be the advice to cool yourself down every chance you get at a hot race!
Zac and I had talked about our strengths throughout the first few hours, and I had voiced my preference for uphills while he had spoken about wanting to tear up the descents. Since the next several miles after the turnaround were all uphill, I left the aid station before Zac, assuming he would eventually catch me on a descent later on. I was feeling the miles, the altitude, and the heat but continued to run, knowing that I could make up time here. The single track was extremely runnable, gently graded and with few rocks or roots. I also knew that any time I could bank here in the high country would be helpful, as I expected the final seven mile descent back into Carson City to be extremely hot. The forecast had predicted temperatures in the triple digits and I’d be finishing during the hottest part of the day.
While it can be tough to pass other runners during a race, the looped nature of the course and the race’s three distance options meant that we’d inevitably be passing other racers at some point. That point ended up being mile 20 for me, where I started seeing the 100-mile racers. Soon enough, that was Nick! We briefly kissed and wished each other well, then were both off again on our respective races.
As I entered Hobart Aid Station, I dumped my remaining water onto myself then refilled my two bottles. I was still partitioning out the Precision gels, but needed to get in more food so grabbed some watermelon. One of the volunteers hurried up to me as I ate another slice. “First place male is only ten minutes ahead of you and is struggling,” she said. “I bet you can catch him.”
While it was nice to hear this, I didn’t want to focus too much on whoever was in front of me, in part because I was starting to realize that this race would be longer than advertised. Knowing there was that long, hot descent and not being anywhere near the final aid station, I knew I still had several hours left until the finish.
From mile 23 onwards, I didn’t see any other runners which made for some doubt around if I was on the right track and where first place male had gone. Maybe he found a second wind? Maybe I was slowing down more than I thought? I hadn’t seen Zac yet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just around the corner, getting ready to catch me.
It seemed to take hours to reach the final aid station at Waterfall and once I made it, temperatures were in the 90s and climbing. I sponged myself down, filled both water bottles again, and stuffed ice into my sports bra, my hat, and my race vest—whatever I could do to stay cool as long as possible and to try to mitigate the heat of this final section. In some ways, it helped that I had prepared for these miles the entire day; with every step, my effort had been adjusted to feel strong enough to tackle the heat and still push the pace from this final aid station to the finish.
Almost immediately I was out of the forest and onto exposed single track with shallow switchbacks that crossed the side of the mountain. I could see Carson City way below me, and rather than pay attention to mileage, I looked to elevation loss, counting down the feet I needed to descend. Every sound that I heard made me look back up at the trail above me, each time expecting to see Zac round the corner. And I still couldn’t see first place male. Had he already finished?
Every few minutes I alternated between taking a sip of water and splashing the water onto my face and neck. I had to partition the water carefully to ensure I didn’t run out before the finish.
At mile 37, the trail dropped into riparian habitat with a creek that flowed next to the trail. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to hop right in and cool down, but without knowing where Zac was, I couldn’t afford to stop. Besides, where was the second place women? Could she have passed Zac and was she on her way to pass me, too?
Finally, I recognized the trail where we had made a wrongful turn up at the beginning of the race. I was close!
It wasn’t until I crossed the finish line and was told by Race Diretor, George Ruiz, that I had finished first place overall, that I realized I’d been chasing a ghost runner for the last 15 miles of the race! The first place male that the volunteer had mentioned at Hobart Aid Station had apparently dropped at the next aid station and I ran right by him, not realizing it.
I cooled off (in 103F heat!) with some coconut water and watched Zac finish second for a great team result. General consensus on the final mileage was about 39 miles. Due to snow, the course had to be re-routed last minute which turned the 55K into a 63K. It’s all good training.
Nick also finished early the next morning, but I’ll let him share his own race experience. Here’s a hint, though: he won, too!
Thanks to Race Director, George Ruiz, and the wonderful staff and volunteers of TRTER! The finish line set-up was fantastic with delicious (and quality) food, drink, and even a cool down/lounge space for everyone. Fingers crossed that if you choose to sign up for one of the distances, your race isn’t as hot but be assured that these people know what they’re doing and put on a stellar race. Thank you to Topo Athletic for the support and for the Mtn Racer 3s, which were comfortable for all 39 miles.
Next up: Squamish 50K, home of the 2023/2024 Canadian Mountain & Trail Running Championships and somehow my first ever BC trail race.