My crew let me sleep for maybe 90 minutes at the Tahoe City aid station, about 133 miles into the Tahoe 200. At this point, time was fluid to me. When I awoke, the sun was still in the air and it was Sunday. That is about all I could comprehend regarding the time of day. I knew the heat had beat me up in the last section, so the intention was to sleep through the rest of the hot part of the day before continuing on.

My crew had tracked down a medical staff to assess my feet. I had felt blisters starting to form on my feet in the previous two sections. This had to be addressed before it turned into a major issue. The medic had me lay on a picnic table to allow him to get up close and personal with my dirty paws. He attempted to pop some blisters and then taped them up. While this was happening, Kerong and Helen were feeding me mashed potatoes. Once my feet were ready, I hit the port-a-potty one more time. Then my new pacer, Helen, and I got back on trail to start the journey back to Heavenly. It was time to finish this race.

9. Tahoe City to Brockway Summit, mile 133 to 152

As we got started on this section, reversing the same section that had given me so much trouble before reaching the turnaround, I started to realize how tough out-and-back courses can be on a runner’s mental state. If there was a particularly tough section, the runners knows they will have to do it once more on the way back, which can be intimidating or frustrating. I think Helen sensed this feeling arising in me. She knew that this section was hard for me and that my body was wearing down. To lift my spirit and keep me engaged, she started some positive talk. Telling me how well I was doing and how good I still looked considering I was over 130 miles into the race.

I was able to hike somewhat efficiently through the first few miles of the section; the longer sleep at the Tahoe City aid station helped restore some energy. Helen and I steadily made progress as we talked about various topics, such as the plant life around the Lake Tahoe area (she is a PHD student of biology) and our own lives.

As I continued on, marching with my trekking poles, I knew I would start getting sleepy again. The sun would be setting on Day 3 soon. We occasionally passed or got passed by fellow runners. I would give them the obligatory “good job” and occasionally chat a bit but, overall, the fatigue was starting to really set in. It was becoming harder to engage in conversation or remember to eat and drink.

Helen came up with an interesting game of taking turns listing funny baby names, which we would present to my pregnant wife, Kerong, at the end of the race. We don’t yet know the gender of the baby, so the names would be non-gender specific. We listed odd names such as “Salt, Sediment, Basil, and Stalagmite.” We had food and nature on our minds…

Once the sun went down, I started to get very sleepy. Helen was hoping we could make it back to the Brockway Summit aid station because it had cots for sleeping and she was nervous about the cold nighttime temperatures. After some time, I told Helen I really needed to lay down for a quick dirt nap. I was falling asleep while hiking. I remembered how much the 10 minute dirt nap with Jon had helped the previous day. Helen agreed and we found a spot on the side of the trail, where I laid down and Helen tucked me in with a space blanket. I was asleep probably within two minutes of laying down. About 10 minutes later, she woke me up and we continued. I was a bit cold waking up, but warmed up quickly with some hiking.

A runner named Nick and his pacer, also named Drew, caught up to us. They were hiking at a good pace. I decided I wanted to keep their pace and led the way for the four of us for probably a couple of miles. I listened as Helen chatted with Nick and Drew about their race. Nick was running to raise money for a charity organization helping children with some sort of disease, maybe cancer (my brain was to tired to remember details). It sounded like an inspiring story. Nick and his pacer had positive energy that helped me move at a good hiking pace. I think I convinced Helen of the power of quick, dirt naps.

After some time, Nick and his pacer fell back a bit. We finally hit a gentle downhill section where my fast hike turned into a light jog. As the downhill continued, I held onto my jogging pace. We started to pass some other runners. It was a weird feeling to be running again after such a long time of hiking, about 140 miles into the race. As Helen cheered me on, my spirit was lifted.

Eventually that downhill turned into another uphill. I fell back into a quick hike. After some time, the uphill just kept going. I knew we had to be close to the next aid station but it felt like it would never come. I started to feel tired again.

Helen knew I was forgetting to eat and drink, so she pulled from her pack a large, baked rice crispy square and started having me take a bite periodically. This food actually went down quite well with my stomach. She also held on to my bag of Swedish Fish and Sour Gummy Worms, occasionally pulling one out for me to eat right out of her hand. It was as if she was walking a dog, giving it treats for good behavior.

After a lot of uphill in the dark, we finally made it back to the Brockway Summit aid station, where Kerong and Rick were waiting for us. It was sometime in the middle of the night and I was very sleepy. I was immediately led into a tent where I could lie down on a cot. I quickly fell asleep. Kerong sat next to me while I slept, occasionally adjusting my blankets to keep me warm. It was comforting to have her there with me.

When my crew woke me up, it was morning, the sun just came up. I was very cold, my feet were very sore, and my undercarriage was very chafed. I was led to a chair next to a fire at the aid station. They wrapped me in blankets and tried to get me to start eating and drinking. I tried to eat a breakfast burrito with little luck. My stomach was really shutting down. Warm apple cider did seem to help my cough and sore throat. I also had a bit of hot chocolate/coffee mixture.

It was at this point where I began to have my first serious doubts about finishing. I was so beat up and did not know if I could get out of the chair. I took a long time sitting there trying to warm up by the fire. After some thinking, I remembered I had told my crew before the race that dropping out was not an option unless I had a serious injury or my crew thought it would be unwise to continue. I knew that sore, blistered feet and a chafed butt were not serious injuries. These things would heal within a week or less. I needed to get back up and keep going.

So, Rick and Kerong helped me stand up and get my pack on.

10. Brockway Summit to Village Green, mile 152 to 166

Rick would be my pacer for the next section, a shorter 14 mile section back to the Village Green aid station. After a few miles of uphill at the beginning, the section would be mostly downhill, including the infamous Powerlines section, this time going down.

About 50 feet out of the aid station, I had a coughing attack, which stirred up my stomach. I proceeded to puke for several minutes. Much of what I had just eaten came back out. Rick went back down to the aid station to grab some paper towels. I was a mess. After cleaning up, we continued on our way. The uphills were tough but I felt some energy return, thanks to the sleep. We steadily made progress.

It was good to see this section in the day time, as I was in the dark with Jeremy the first time. There were nice meadows of flowers and views of mountains in the distance. Once we finished most of the climbing portion, the course became a nice, easy downhill service road. Rick and I started jogging a bit. This terrain was a nice break from the rockier, singletrack I had been dealing with for the last several hours. We passed a handful of runners.

Soon enough, we got to the Powerlines section. There was an amazing view at the top. Rick and I took a minute there to eat and admire the scenery before starting the descent.

The 1.5 mile Powerlines section is very steep with loose rock, making footing quite difficult, especially with 160 miles on the legs. I made the decision to just let gravity pull me down and hopefully be able to keep my feet underneath me. My local Santa Barbara trails actually prepared me well for this. Our trails are quite steep and loose compared to the stereotypical “California Carpet,” which was characteristic of most of the Tahoe 200 course. I led the way down, with a quick-footed shuffle, passing multiple people. My feet slid and shifted, but I was able to keep upright…until I wasn’t…I had one fall to my butt, and slid down for a few feet, ripping my Janji tights in the process. I think a camera person may have gotten a photo of it as well.

At the bottom of the descsent, we entered the wealthy neighborhood of Incline Village. Also waiting at the bottom was a camper van with some lemonade and popsicles for runners. A couple generous folks took time to come out with some sweet, cold treats for runners, knowing the Powerlines section was tough and a cold lemonade would be a nice prize at the end.

Rick and I walked the last couple miles to the Village Green aid, admiring the fancy homes along the way. I also called my dad and to wish him a happy fathers’ day and, coincidentally, birthday as well. I gave him some updates on my race and he told how he was doing. It was good to hear from him.

Helen was waiting for us at the aid station, where she had set up a blanket in the grass with a coke and snacks. I laid down, ate and drank, and fell asleep again.

After some time, Helen woke me back up to start getting ready for the final two sections. This was the last aid station that allowed crew. This meant Helen would be joining me for the final 36 miles, with only one aid in the middle but no crew access.

We got my pack on, said goodbye to Rick, and headed back out on course. Two more sections to go, but they were going to be a tough two sections. Lots of exposed high ridgeline and one more night.

11. Village Green to Spooner Summit, mile 166 to 185

Helen and I walked for a couple miles through Incline Village to the start of a long climb. We connected onto the Tunnel Creek service road, which would be a consistent uphill for about 4 miles, followed by singletrack switchbacks uphill for another 2 miles. The sun was out and shining on our backs as we hiked up. We passed many locals out hiking and riding bikes. They seemed to know about this 200 mile event, occasionally cheering me on.

The service road was tough but had nice views of the lake. Eventually, we made it to the singletrack. Helen entertained me with facts about the local plants and some research she had done on the local biology. We spotted a mother deer and her two babies a couple switchbacks up the trail. They noticed us too, assessing our risk level. They seemed to also follow the trail. I observed for a bit as I continued hiking. Eventually the deer family turned off the trail and went straight up the mountain. Maybe we got too close for the mother’s comfort, although we tried to be non-threatening. She did well protecting her little ones.

Helen called Kerong during this section to give her an update and so I could hear her voice. I was missing my wife. We talked on the phone for a while, receiving her words of encouragement. It lifted my confidence but also made me miss her more. After hanging up, I had to sit on a rock for a minute. I told Helen how I missed my wife and that the nights away from her were getting hard. I just wanted to lay down next to her. Helen assured me that I would see Kerong soon enough, I just had to make one more overnight push. Kerong would be waiting for me at the finish line and I could fall into her arms.

We finally finished the six mile uphill section and were rewarded with some awesome blue sky views of the lake. We continued on, hiking over the rolling high alpine terrain. We were high up in altitude now. The wind was a bit stronger and the air was thinner. We came across a Tahoe Rim Trail thru-hiker, who was taking a break. I talked to him for a minute. When I told him I was in the 200 mile race, he asked if I was hallucinating yet. I told him about a couple weird things but nothing too extraordinary. Little did I know, the extraordinary was still ahead. We continued on.

A couple miles later, we popped out of the high alpine woods and onto the exposed ridgeline, which I remembered experiencing a couple days prior with Jon. I knew it was going to be tough. Immediately, the wind hit me. There were no trees to shield me from the strong wind. The next few miles would be rolling up and down, totally exposed to the sun and wind. It was beautiful, maybe the most scenic section of the course. But also tough mountain conditions, with occasional slick snowpack crossings. We trudged on over the tops of mountains, making our way around the east side of the high alpine lake.

The conditions were intense and I was so tired, I began to grunt with every step. It seemed to give me some extra push. I hastened my hiking pace, pushing harder with my trekking poles. Occasionally morphing into a jog, I pushed harder to get off the ridgeline and back into the tall trees where I could get some protection from the wind.

Once we finally got off the ridge, we started winding through tall pine trees. The trail eventually brought us down off the mountain to meet Highway US 50 below. The Spooner Summit aid station was across the highway. I had made it a goal to get to Spooner Summit before having to take out the headlamps and we had made it just in time. It felt like it took forever; I was so ready to sit down.

Helen and a volunteered led me to a chair by a fire. They started getting me food and drink and filled my bottles. I sat for a while listening to the other runners’ and volunteers’ conversations. Everyone was so real and authentic with each other. This aid station marked mile 185 on the course, so us runners were exhausted at this point. More than three days into the event. Pushing our bodies consistently. I was stripped raw of pride or any sort of social façade.

Originally, I planned to be fast at this aid station, keep moving, and eventually take a trail nap when I needed. But after spending some time at the Spooner Summit aid station, I told Helen I wanted to sleep there for 15 minutes and then make the final push to the finish. I wanted to sleep by the warm fire, rather than on the dirt at the top of a mountain. Helen agreed and I drifted off.

Helen woke me about 10 minutes later and we quickly got up and headed out. Next stop, Heavenly, the finish line.

12. Spooner Summit to Heavenly, mile 185 to 203

As we left the final aid station, the darkness quickly moved in, leaving only the small world illuminated by our headlamps. The chatter of the aid station faded away, and it was just me, Helen, and the trail. Of course, a steep uphill trail. The next several miles would be a continuous climb in the dark. I recalled a more pleasant experience going the opposite direction on this trail two days prior. One more night to push through.

After several minutes (or hours, time is an illusion), Helen suggested that we call Jon to give him an update and to hear a friendly voice. Jon, Jeremy, and Esther all had to drive back to Santa Barbara on Sunday to get back to their work schedule, so I had not seen them in almost two days.

I don’t remember what hour of the night it was when we called him, but Jon picked up. Helen began to tell him where we were and what was going on. I told him I was feeling pretty tired. Helen and Jon continued to talk for a while, but I don’t remember hardly anything from the conversation. I’m not sure I was comprehending the conversation in the moment. My brain was melting away like an ice cream on a hot day.

We continued hiking uphill for several miles. My lungs and heart kept my pace slow. Breathing was getting harder with the altitude and dust accumulation. We finally reached a flatter section. It became quite rocky, which also made it hard to hike quickly. I knew I was moving very slow. Helen was kind and patient with me. She gave so much time and effort to help me the last several days.

The runner I had watched the sunset with a couple nights prior, Alexander, and his pacer, his sister, came up from behind us on the trail. I was surprised they were not already miles ahead of us. I said “hi” as they went by.

I turned on some music in an attempt to keep my mind awake. Helen started periodically feeding me Swedish Fish again. She would be hiking ahead of me, then turn around with a candy in her hand, which I would eat out of her hand. We continued on like this for a while. Helen tried to ask me questions to keep me awake, but all I could really focus on was my feet and my trekking poles.

After some time, we came across Alexander and his sister sitting on the side of the trail. I asked how they were doing, to which they replied, “just fine.” His sister told me to take a moment to look up at the stars. There were quite a few stars visible in the sky. Very pretty. Helen and I continued on.

The rocky, flat stuff eventually turned into a smoother downhill. My hike hastened and, eventually, I started jogging a bit. I was listening to Billy Strings’ album Highway Prayers. A little bluegrass always kicks me into gear. We passed a couple groups of runners. Eventually the downhill flattened out and returned to uphill. I kept hiking at a decent pace for some time, but eventually started slowing back down again.

Eventually, we reached a section that weaved through large boulders. I recalled this area from two days prior. I knew we were close to a road crossing and within a few miles of finishing. As we got to the road, Helen got to play crossing guard, ensuring I safely made it to the other side. The trail immediately became a steep uphill.

It was around this time when my brain truly melted into wonderland. I began to see shadows dancing around the light of my headlamp. Sticks started to wiggle like lizards. The odd thing is I did not notice this happening at the time. It was as if I had just entered a cartoon world and it was normal for things like this to happen.

The sun started to come up, a bit of light shined through the tall pines. We continued climbing. The trail was getting steeper. We were basically hiking up the side of a ski slope.

As the light came in, I started to notice images in the rocks. I saw faces and photo collages of strange people. I also saw weird fractal patterns in the trees and plants. At one point I stopped to stare at what I thought was a bunch of magazine clippings carved into a rock. Helen told me we needed to keep moving so we could get to the finish line. It was not until that moment that I realized Helen could not see what I was seeing and that I was hallucinating from the sleep deprivation. I realized all the odd images and sounds I was experiencing were not real. It was very strange to have this realization. It felt like some sort of psychedelic trip through nature. I was no longer sleepy but definitely not fully awake either. I was in some weird, semi-conscious state.

We continued on uphill. This section was a brutal way to end the race. We knew we had to be close. Eventually, the trail flattened but continued to weave around the side of the mountain. We could see some of the infrastructure of the ski lodge through the trees.

We finally reached the familiar switchbacks that would take us down to the finish line. I started running. Propelling myself forward with my trekking poles. I saw Rick on the trail. He hollered my name and started running with Helen and I as we continued to descend. I heard Kerong’s voice yell to me. Then I heard my dad’s voice. This was a big surprise because he lives in Georgia.

I finally reached the end of the switchbacks and ran towards the finish line, crossing in 92 hours, 38 minutes, and 44 seconds. I embraced my wife for a big hug. Then I hugged my dad. He had just flown in to Reno and drove to the finish line to catch my finish.

I then got my mandatory post-race photo. And then I got to choose my belt buckle. There were many cool options, each with a unique design. They also contained resin from local plants. Very cool touch. Kerong helped me choose one. My first ultra belt buckle.

What an experience I will never forget….