I arrived in Squaw Valley, California on June 22, 2005 to partake in the events surrounding the Western States 100 Mile endurance Run during the days preceding the race. Wednesday evening, Doug and I ate a pizza and walked around the village at Squaw Valley taking pictures, and taking in the beautiful view of the mountains. We met Mark and LeAnn Morris from Tyler, Texas and exchanged many race stories as well as helpful hints to resolve blisters, sore muscles, and (of course) diarrhea.

Thursday morning, as per Western States tradition, the flag raising ceremony took place atop Emigrant Pass. We opted to take the cable car up the mountain versus hike. Attending the flag raising gave me the opportunity to play in some of the snow we runners would hike through on race day. My initial thought regarding the snow was, "NOT BAD". The mountains were beautiful and the air was crisp and clean - it felt great to be in that environment.

Thursday afternoon several optional meetings or clinics were scheduled. I attended the trail briefing meeting, as did Linda Rust and Moogy. The information provided was very detailed and too much to completely absorb. My sister, Colleen, and pacer, Meredith Terranova joined Doug and I Thursday night. We had a late lasagna dinner, and then called it a night.

Friday was pre-race day. Runners picked up our loot bags and went through our medical check. Arriving at the table to pick up my wristband, I found that I had been listed as Stan Rooney, Male. Once corrected, I was able to proceed to the scale. Pre-race weigh in: 136.5 lbs. Pre-race blood pressure: 149/99! WHAT?!?!!!! I explained to the nurse that there wasn't a chance in the world that BP reading was correct. Certainly I didn't have the kind of nervous energy to cause a drastic spike in my blood pressure (to levels that require medication). For some dumb reason I thought I was much more calm than that. I requested a re-check, and I am glad I did. Next reading: 112/78. Ahhhh. At the med check we ran into Henry Hobbs and saw Tim Tweitmeyer. It was pretty neat to see the elite runners in this sport in person, and see that they were actually real people, who had no problem walking to the end of a line where the wait was roughly 40 minutes. After med check, we went back to the room to complete the drop bag packing. Meredith added a few items to the bags that we would access late in the race. The four of us made our way to the drop bag area, unloaded, and then went to the pre-race meeting. There we met up with Joyce, Linda Hurd, Henry, Mike Riggs, and Linda and Kendall Rust. I saw a lot of what I consider to be famous faces (Pam Reed, Dean Karnazes, and Monica Scholz). I also saw several people that appeared in the 2001 Western States video, A Race for the Soul. I found the meeting very informative regarding final course and race details.

Rise and shine was at 3:00 a.m. race day morning to be prepared for a 5:00 a.m. start. I needed to get 500 calories of Spiz in my belly, so I gulped down the contents of my water bottle as soon as I woke up. I was relatively calm and went through my regular morning routine. At 4:15, my crew and I headed to the start. We didn't need to allow a significant amount of time to get there since our rental condominium was located across the courtyard from the start. We arrived to find a building loaded with chatty runners, crews, pacers, friends, and families. I checked in and received my race bib number. The morning was cool, so I wore gloves, a singlet with HCTR long sleeve over it, and shorts. I looked forward to the 4.5 mile warm up to Emigrant Pass, mostly because it seemed like a wonderful way to ease into the race. The climb wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. I met some folks on the hike up, and saw several people I had previously met at some time or another. I chatted with Beth Simpson for a few moments, who I had met at RR100 2004. I saw Lisa Conover briefly while climbing up some snow near a chairlift toward the top of the first climb. I was introduced to Lisa by Linda Rust at RR100 last year, and recognized her signature bright yellow outfit and light blonde hair. We exchanged greetings, and then separated. As I passed the first aid station and began trudging through what would be the bulk of snow, I watched runners in front of me. I saw fellow HCTR member, Linda Hurd, making her way through the snow. Then I saw Monica Scholz four runners in front of me and wondered, 'had I gone out too fast'? What I thought about for several minutes was, 'what in the hell am I doing running near Monica Scholz'? Had I completely lost my mind? I decided that since I was very comfortable and was running within myself, going bananas about who I was running near was dumb.

There was a lot of slushy, winding trail, then snow packed trail, then icy sloped trail, and then trail loaded with full-blown mud. I wasn't thrilled to get my feet soaking wet so early in the race, but it was inevitable. By the time I hit Lyon Ridge at mile 11.5, I needed more water in my bottles. The volunteers at the aid station were very attentive. As soon as I entered the station, two men were tending to my needs as if they had been assigned to me. I was in and out of the station in a matter of a couple of minutes.

I ventured on toward Red Star Ridge aid station. Initially, the runners were supposed to be able to leave drop bags at Red Star, however; the abundance of snowfall prevented vehicles from being able to drive in to the aid station. All the aid supplies had been delivered via horseback in the weeks prior to the race. Once I made it through some very muddy sections, I was able to relax and just run. I met up with Monica Scholz and we chatted for a while as we made our way closer to the next station. We exchanged stories and had a few laughs while getting through the snow. I was enjoying the runable sections - it felt so wonderful to break into a stride after miles of trail that prevented me from doing so.

I entered Robinson Flat on what I recall being just minutes below a 30-hour pace. Since one of my goals was to be ahead of the 30-hour mark, I told myself, "Move your butt, girl!" I was thrilled to find my crew there, but couldn't do anything until I jumped on the scale for my first weigh-in: 135 lbs. Great, there was no reason to hold me there. I gave my crew hugs and kisses, and then completed my drop bag instruction checklist. I would not access another drop bag prior to entering the section of the race referred to as "The Canyons". That section was considered to be the hottest portion of the race, so I took a 3rd water bottle with me just in case I needed it. Everything was going well at that point, so I wasted no time and headed out.

The climb to Little Bald Mountain (LBM) was scenic with some short climbs. There was a good amount of snow to get through, but I was thankful for minimal amounts of mud. Much to my surprise, I arrived to the aid station and saw Doug and Meredith there! Since Robinson Flat was only 4 miles before LBM, I didn't expect to see them. What a fantastic surprise! I received a couple of quick hugs, flashed a smile for the camera, and they sent me on my way.

The drop into Deep Canyon was long. I wondered when we could stop descending. I wasn't sure what to expect with the climbs, as I had never been on the WS course prior to the race. I realized the further I went down into the canyon, I would be making the same length climb up to get out of the canyon. I found that I started to look forward to the uphills. I had worked very hard in training to become efficient with my uphill power walking, and as a result, the climbing felt much better to me than the descents.

On the way to Dusty Corners (mile 38) I met two women: Mary and Lisa. I cannot recall where they were from, but Lisa knew Tracy Holland. The three of us ran together for several miles, chatting up a storm. We covered a lot of issues we women deal with in ultras, which I shall not report about here.

I arrived at Last Chance aid station (mile 43.3) having made up some time. I hopped on the scale for another weigh-in, and was heading down the trail again relatively quickly. My aid station stops were planned out: arrive, weigh in, get drop bag, drink Spiz, go through instruction sheet, re-load hand held bottles, and get out. As I left Last Chance, a volunteer told me, "Four and a half miles to Devils Thumb." I couldn't believe we were already heading to Devils Thumb. Time was flying by.

I ventured down the trail and met up with Jack from Foresthill, California. We exchanged stories and he described sections of the course to me. Jack had run WS once or twice before, so he was very familiar with the course. The drop down to the bottom of Devils Thumb was painful. Jack quickly blew past me on the downhill. My quads were feeling the 43 miles I had covered, and my tentative nature running downhills slowed my pace. All I could think was please give me an uphill!!!! I caught Jack on the uphill and we entered the aid station together. I had a blister on my left foot that blew its contents somewhere on the trail. Forty-seven miles into it was only halfway through, so I decided to sit down for some blister care after another weigh-in. I was 30 minutes ahead of where I wanted to be, so I felt relaxed in sitting for a few minutes. I felt very good with the exception of the blister. I had a wonderful team of experts work on my feet. Once the blister was wrapped up, I took a hug from a nurse, got a high-five from the doc, and I was ready to move on.

I met up with Monica again on the way to El Dorado Creek. We ran together for several miles and covered topics such as Texas running, Badwater, Crazy Joe Prusaitis, and how each of us got started in this sport. As we dropped over 2000 feet into the canyon, my quads were crying. Linda Hurd flew past us - she was a stud descending into the canyons. We finally hit the aid station and started climbing the 1800 feet up to Michigan Bluff. Thank God - climbing!!! Monica and I split and I headed up the hill alone. I turned on my MP-3 player and climbed, sang, and panted to my music. I was in such a good mood. I also knew that Doug and Colleen would be at Michigan Bluff, so I had extra motivation to get there quickly. I was in excellent spirits and happily ran into the aid station. Weigh-in #4 was within a pound of pre-race weight, so I was cleared to get my drop bag. Colleen and Doug helped me with my bottles and I got a hug from Paul Schmidt. I wasn't having any trouble, so I got back on the trail as soon as I could.

For whatever reason, I checked out and cannot recall a thing about my journey to Bath Road at mile 60. I do, however, recall a descent out of Bath Road, a dip down into Volcano Canyon, and then a climb to Foresthill that I had forgotten was ahead of me. I was thinking about arrival at Foresthill, picking up Meredith, and getting ready for night running. I passed Gordy Ainsleigh on the climb to Foresthill, said hello, and respectfully thanked him for the existence of Western States 100. The final 1/2 mile leading into Foresthill was a dirt trail that ran parallel to a paved road. It was completely flat, so I picked up my pace going into the station. It felt so good to stretch out my legs in a stride. Tim Hicks met me on the trail and ran with me into the station. Tim would pace Henry from this station. I entered around 7:40 p.m. and desperately needed more blister care. Colleen, Doug, and Meredith were all waiting for me by a chair and with my drop bag. The medical staff worked on my blisters as I drank my fuel. Meredith and Doug worked on transferring my waist pack contents to my Camelback for the night portion of the run. Colleen kept me company and asked me questions about peeing and soreness. My stay at Foresthill was lengthy, as I expected it would be. I was shocked to find that my Camelback didn't fit when it was fully loaded with gear. I freaked out momentarily until I realized I just needed to loosen the straps. Meredith and I hit the road out of the station running. We still had daylight, so we wanted to run as much as we could to cover ground before the sky turned dark.

We met Linda Hurd again on the way to Dardanelles aid station (mile 65.7). I was surprised at how fast we reached the aid station - I think it was having Meredith as company! We were in and out of Dardanelles quickly, and on our way to Peachstone (mile 70.7). Meredith kept commenting on how runable the trail was, and that the stretch of flat trail had never been mentioned in the course description. We made good use of the light sky, as we would have to turn on our lights soon. We passed Jack, and I introduced Meredith to him. I told her that I had been leap-frogging with Jack for a good part of the day. He told us of the climb we were about to start which would take us to the next station, "600 ft. up to the left, then about 100 ft. up after that." I couldn't speak on the hill - we were working - I just wanted to get to the top. Meredith and I had sweat pouring from our faces when we finally reached the top.

We pulled into Ford's Bar aid station, which is where I mistakenly thought I was able to leave a drop bag. I had a bag packed prior to the race, and realized my error at the pre-race meeting. At Ford's Bar, I had my water bottle topped off and then downed a 1/2 cup of Red Bull. I had a flask of Hammergel, but forgot to take any of it. The run to the next station covered 5 miles. At this time of night, and 73 miles into the race, 5 miles seemed like a significant distance to cover. All I could think about was crossing the American River - it seemed like such a monumental part of the race.

On the way to Rucky Chucky, I hit my first "low" of the race. I was getting tired, wanted caffeine, and just had the "blah's". Meredith realized that back at Ford's Bar, I topped off my bottle with water only. I didn't take in any fuel except for a small amount of Red Bull. She talked me through my low with endless encouragement. She realized the error I had made, and was sure to correct it at the next station. Finally we reached the river, and boy was it LOUD! This year we crossed in a boat versus wading across due to the rapid flowing of high water. We were told at the pre-race meeting that in order to cross on foot, the water had to be flowing at no more than 200 cubic feet per second. The day before the race, the water was still flowing at 2000 cubic feet per second. On the near side of the river, there was an aid station where runners weighed in. Drop bags were on the far side of the river, so Meredith told me to weigh in, and then get across the river as soon as possible so I could access my bag. I shipped out with other runners, and then Meredith came across in the next boat. My feet felt like garbage so I decided to change socks, shoes, and have a complete re-do of my blister care. I drank my Spiz and a can of Starbuck's Double Shot. Rucky Chucky wins the award for efficiency on all counts. They kicked me out as soon as the blisters were dressed and new shoes were on. We had a climb uphill to Green Gate where Doug and Colleen would be waiting for us. I didn't think the climb to Green Gate was bad at all. Maybe I didn't mind it due to the caffeine, or the excitement of soon seeing my crew, or maybe because I had mentally prepared for something worse.

We passed through Green Gate quickly. I was thrilled to see Colleen and Doug and told them of the blister re-do I got at the river. I said I was beginning to feel tired, but was still doing well. They wished us well, and told us they would see us at the finish. I was hoping they could get some sleep, as I knew how long the night could be for crew.

Meredith and I headed on to Auburn Lake Trails (ALT), where I would weigh in again and have access to a drop bag. The night was not cold, but cool enough to give me a shiver. (Did I say I was from Minnesota?) I had a second long sleeve shirt tied around my waist, and decided to put it on. The bathroom stops became more and more frequent, causing my body to lose heat. We caught up with Moogy heading into the ALT aid station, and didn't realize it was him until we were a couple of feet behind him. Moogy said he was doing okay, but had not been able to drink for an hour. His stomach was bothering him and he stuck with us until we entered the aid station. Meredith and I lectured Moogy on how he needed to drink and make sure he was peeing, as we had 15 more miles before we reached the finish. He loaded up his bottles, threw down a bunch of liquid, and headed out of the station with us. I stopped to water the grass, and Moogy kept going. He was feeling better and was able to make up some time.

On the way to Brown's Bar, I recalled reading a race report that described this aid station, so I knew that it was a saloon set up with a lot of lights. Meredith informed me of the mileage in between stations, and although 4.7 miles was close to 5, it was still shorter. Keeping caffeine in my system was a very wise move. We were able to make some good time on the trail, and I was able to throw in a jog here and there to make sure the legs could still run. Since the speed-walking was faster than I could have run, there was no need to run. As we approached Brown's Bar, from quite a distance away, we could hear some very bad, loud, music. I suggested it might be Marilyn Manson, but not being a big fan, I wasn't sure. The horrible noise stopped, and "Cecilia" started blaring from the aid station. I began to skip down the trail, singing along out loud. The song was one of my favorites while I was a freshman in college. My mood was instantly lifted, and Meredith chuckled behind me as I think she was pleased that I was so happy. We entered the station and I wanted something warm to drink. I was given chicken broth, which was fantastic. I also was given a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the coffee hit my tongue and was just slightly cooler than lukewarm. I spit it out immediately. I apologized to the volunteer for being rude and spitting it out, and explained that I couldn't drink it. As we were leaving the aid station, I attempted to take a Succeed, which came flying out of my mouth, as well. I decided to wait a while and try the Succeed again later. I knew we were getting close, but didn't realize just how close we were. Meredith pointed out a spotlight that was shining in the sky quite a distance from us. She said it was shining from the finish line. Seeing the spotlight and knowing we were within 10 miles from the finish excited me.

We were closing in on Highway 49 aid station (mile 93.5). I began to whine at this point because the 2nd long sleeve was making me too hot. Meredith asked me what was wrong, and I started crying. She asked me if I was hot or if I just needed to cry? I bawled, "Both!" She told me it was okay to cry, but I needed to keep moving. I whimpered up a hill with my lower lip quivering like a leaf on a tree. I had been scolded (mildly) by my pacer. Finally, we reached the aid station. Quick weigh-in, quick rifle through the drop bag to get in some fuel, and off we went.

On our way to No Hand's Bridge (mile 96.8) I thought I should try taking another Succeed. I pulled out the baggie and just stared at it. Meredith said, "You can either stare at it and think about taking it, or you can take it. Either way, keep on moving." Now, I had officially been scolded! I became quiet, and Meredith apologized for yelling at me. I told her it was okay - at that point I needed some fire under my butt. Besides, she was thinking so much clearer than I was, and she knew what she was doing. We made good time and moved parallel to a road for quite a while. I could tell from the lay of the land that we would make an impressive drop to get to the bridge. UGH - NO MORE DROPS, PLEASE!!!! But I couldn't wait to see that bridge. I saw pictures in a magazine of the bridge all lit up, and thought it would be so neat to see it in the dark. As we passed through the aid station right before the bridge, a volunteer told us the movie had just been turned off. Apparently there was a large screen next to the bridge showing some type of film or footage while it was still dark. Although we missed the movie, the lights still shined brightly on the bridge and I was feeling very happy to be so close to finishing. The bridge was long with a grassy dirt and concrete surface. As we crossed, I told Meredith that I loved that section.

Onward and upward to Robie Point. Yes, I said upward! The climb up to Robie Point was made out to be so much worse than it was. Meredith had asked a man on the trail what the remainder of the course was like. He told us he didn't think we wanted to know. We asked again, and he described a torturous climb up, then a sharp right, then another steep climb, then pavement that was uphill to the school. His information turned out to be inaccurate. We left the man on the trail and caught up with two women who were climbing with determination. We climbed right along with them, and then saw a sign at the end of the trail where it met the pavement that read, "ONE MILE TO GO". I asked the women if it was one more mile until we hit the road that goes to the school, to which one replied, "No, that means one mile to the school and you're done." My eyes must have looked like saucers. I was confused - I looked at my watch, then at Meredith, then the watch, Meredith, etc. I felt like my head was in a blender. I asked her if I was going to finish in the 25th hour. She smiled at me, and quietly said yes. A big smile spread across my face and I said, "I like that."

The road was uphill, but we had agreed that we would try to run as much of the last mile as we could. I bargained with Meredith to power-walk until the road flattened out some. Eventually we picked up the pace and were running. As we came up behind Moogy, we gave him a big cheer and said, "We did it." Meredith and I picked up the pace again and headed toward the school. She pointed out the orange color of the track through the trees. I couldn't rid the smile from my face at that point. I could hardly believe we were seconds from being done. I heard a cheer to my left, and I looked over to see Doug standing there with a proud look, cheering with his camera in hand. He chased us in to the stadium as we made the lap around the track. As soon as my feet hit the rubber track, all I could think of was how nice and soft the track felt on my feet. I loved it! We charged around the track and I was amazed at how all the pain seemed to have left my body for that moment. I'm sure I was moving like a turtle, but I felt like I was sprinting faster than I ever had. Meredith pulled off to the side and I looked up at the clock, which read 25:44:24 as I crossed the finish line. I pulled off my pack and hopped on the scale - exactly 0.5 pounds under my pre-race weight. I raised my arm and gave a cheer.

Finishing WS100 is my biggest accomplishment in running so far. I think back to some of the sacrifices I made in order to train, and I can truly say it was all worth it. I felt a lot of stress at times, and thought I had taken on too much with school, work, and training, and I know now that getting through it has made me stronger. Doug was the greatest coach, and provided me endless support. He believed so strongly that I could do this...sometimes more than I did. I feel sad now that it is all over. It is hard to spend 6 months training, and then have it all end. I have felt post-race blues before, but not to the degree I have after Western States. I have found comfort in telling myself I will run WS again, and I look forward to exploring new territory and mountains where I have not yet been.

Some fun facts:
1. CRY BREAKS: 1 (but it was short)
2. WHIMPER BREAKS: 1 (yeah, yeah...I know it still counts as crying)
3. NAPS: 0
4. FALLS: 0
5. PR: I bettered my RR100 time by 28 minutes