RACE REPORT: Racing Western States 100 with Four Days Notice

Every runner who toes the line at Western States 100 has a story. Here is mine.

Pt 1. Getting In the Race

Four days before this year’s Western States 100, I learned I would get to run this historic race — a once in a lifetime opportunity! 

I am incredibly thankful to my husband Andrew, my crew — Kristy, Rachel & Ericka — and to friends and family who cheered me on from afar. So many stars had to align for this adventure to come together! 

Western States 100 — the original 100 miler — holds a lottery each December to determine who runs. I had a mere 0.6% chance of getting my name pulled in this December’s lottery. While I didn’t get my name pulled for the entrants list, I was shocked to hear my name pulled for the waitlist: “#38. Amy Broadmoore”! My chances of racing Western States 100 skyrocketed from 0.6% to roughly 50%! Definitely no guarantee, but I had hope.

At age 50 and having dealt with injuries, I was keenly aware that this year might be my one opportunity to race Western States 100 healthy and finish it. I started training and did everything to prepare just in case.

I flew to California for Western States 100 training camp with my daughter Edie and ran 40+ miles of the course. My friends took a leap and purchased [refundable] plane tickets. We booked an Airbnb. A couple weeks out — when I was sitting 5th on the waitlist and my chances of getting in the race looked bleak — my friends urged me to hold a crew meeting to discuss logistics… just in case.

Increasingly, friends and family and random folks at the grocery store started checking in to see where I was on the waitlist… 4th… 3rd… 2nd… People seemed pretty intrigued by the idea that I would train for a 100 mile race with no guarantees that I’d get to run.

The Tuesday of race week, I was sitting 1st on the waitlist. For my full crew to join for our flight to California the next day, we needed 1 more person to drop from the race… I was running along the Duluth Lakewalk and had stopped to admire Lake Superior when friends started texting. I immediately emailed my reply to RD Craig Thornley YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

Pt 2. Racing Western States 100

Once a person realizes that their once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is happening, they have to decide what they’ll do with that opportunity.

There are several ways my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to race Western States 100 could have played out. I could have set expectations at 100%: sub-24 hour finish, win my age group etc. I could have chosen to not race and to instead focus on admiring views and interacting with aid station volunteers. I could have spent the race documenting the experience for posterity. With 100 milers, there’s always a very real possibility that the race could end with macerated feet, blown out quads, or nausea/vomiting. I could have spent the race troubleshooting, trying to avoid disaster. All valid approaches.

I enjoy racing, so I knew that I wanted to push myself and race Western States 100. At the same time, it’s tricky to race a 100 miler in a new location, with crew who’s neither crewed at Western States 100 nor raced a 100 miler. Thus, the plan was a balance of racing and unwavering commitment to enjoying my Western States 100 adventure however it unfolded.

I had 3 goals for the first 80 miles of the race — PATIENCE, PRESENCE + MOMENTUM. These 3 words served me well, and I kept repeating them to myself. 

PRESENCE reminded me to savor the wildflower meadows, bird calls, and mossy Ponderosa Pines that we ran through during the first 30 miles of the course, referred to as the “high country.” Red Star Ridge is breathtaking with 360 degree views of the Granite Chief Wilderness Area. Presence reminded me to appreciate that I was feeling good as I descended into El Dorado Canyon at mile 50 without concern for the miles ahead. Presence reminded me to focus on the step in front of me as fatigue set in. Presence reminded me to enjoy the lively sights and sounds of nighttime aid stations as respite from the pain.

PATIENCE reminded me to focus on conserving energy rather than pushing. In a 100 miler, it’s easy to be patient for 40 miles and then suddenly push for 5 miles and blow your whole race. I repeated the word patience over and over, each time I had the urge to start pushing prior to Foresthill (mile 60). Passing people as I hiked up the steep four mile escarpment that kicks off the race — patience. Running flowy downhill switchbacks in the high country — patience. Hitting familiar trail when I reached mile 50 and started hiking up and out of El Dorado Canyon — patience.

MOMENTUM was key for finishing in sub-27 hours. In 100 milers, there are many times when one is forced to slow down. There are bottles that need to be filled, gear that needs to be rearranged, bathroom stops that can’t be ignored etc. Time in aid stations can add up quickly. I repeated the word momentum over and over, each time I found myself slowing down. Hiking up Deadwood Canyon fighting the urge to sit on the side of the trail — momentum. At every aid station, where I had to make sleepy decisions — momentum. Along Cal street (miles 60-80), where calf discomfort made it tricky to run, I focused on minimizing stoppage time and maintaining momentum. 

For the final 20 miles of the race, my goal was to push myself and race. I did ok at this. This is where I’m second guessing myself a bit post-race, but I’m proud of the extent to which I did push. I’m not Tara Dower, and I just have to accept that.

Let’s focus on the good stuff… After Rucky Chucky (mile 78), I ran more of the flats than I had been running prior and tried to not let folks pass me. After Pointed Rocks (mile 94), I told my pacer Rachel that anytime there was a flat from Pointed Rocks to the finish I would be running it. I did that with one exception. I knew I wanted to run it in once I hit flat streets in Auburn and definitely the final 300 meters around the Placer High School track. You can watch the video of my finish. I’m basically sprinting. (;

Pt 3. Western States 100 Reflections

Overall, Western States 100 played out better than I could have imagined. Any caveats are due to comparison (well known to be the thief of joy). When I focus on my own story, there is nothing but beauty & awe & perfection.

My two biggest race lows are linked in my mind with my two biggest race highs.

My first race low was Deadwood Canyon. Deadwood Canyon is the steepest and most technical canyon at Western States. It falls at mile 45, where runners still have over half of the race left to run. As fellow runners started passing me on the steep 1,800 foot climb up and out of Deadwood Canyon, I was aware that I was melting down. It took all my resolve to keep moving forward and not stop.

When I emerged from Deadwood Canyon, dragging and discouraged, I was met with volunteers offering broth, encouragement and statistics. One volunteer in particular rushed up to me to let me know that I was the lead 50 year old woman and that I really needed to keep moving. She had been keeping race statistics with pen and paper due to the lack of cell service at Devil’s Thumb aid station. THANK YOU! That encouragement completely turned my race around and got me back on track. The volunteers also told me that Deadwood Canyon is the worst (which it is) and that life would get better (which it did).

My second race low hit 25 miles later at Cal Street. Cal Street is a smooth section of trail from miles 60 to 80 that is irritatingly runnable. By the time I hit Cal Street, I was unsure how much straight up running my right calf could handle, and I was being a little bit of a wimp hiking some stretches I should have run. 

My race low Cal Street memory is linked with my race high Rucky Chucky River crossing memory. At the end of Cal Street, my husband Andrew joined me, and we crossed the iconic Rucky Chucky River together and that was just SO MUCH FUN! The cool water of the Rucky Chucky River brought my legs back to life, and I found myself enjoying the climb that followed up to Green Gate. 

I’m still over the moon that I got the opportunity to race Western States 100 with 0.6% odds in the lottery. I’m beyond thankful that my husband Andrew and some of my best friends — Rachel, Ericka and Kristy — joined me to crew. Matt Olin designed the best crew shirt ever and Rachel printed matching crew shirts in less than 24 hours — CRAZY!!! Finally, it feels like a miracle that — after struggling with injuries in my early 40s — my 50 year old body carried me healthily along the Western States 100 course and enabled me to have this one-in-a-lifetime adventure.

Some disparage Western States 100 as less beautiful than other mountain 100s, but I disagree and am now the biggest Western States 100 fan. The high country scenery exceeded expectations; the volunteers at check in gave me chills; and efforts to increase inclusiveness and celebrate diversity have me hooked on this race. This race isn’t perfect, but I see and appreciate the progress and effort. I will return in some capacity!

THANK YOU

• A huge thanks to my crew Andrew, Kristy, Rachel & Ericka for going all in on this dream. Thanks for obsessing over logistics, giving up sleep, offering me encouragement & caffeine pills, rubbing Voltarol on my dirty legs & embracing the adventure. Racing 100 milers is a team effort best shared with friends. 
• Thanks to Edie for joining me to make special Western States 100 training camp memories.
• Thanks to Matt Olin — the best graphic designer in the Midwest — for the sweet crew t-shirt! 
• Thanks to Jess for her efforts to crew from afar.
• Thanks to Bill for the miles shared and encouragement: “There you are kiddo.” “We’re doing well.” “The next 13 miles are downhill. Let’s go jog a half marathon.”
• Thanks to Matt from Minnesota for sharing your positivity and wisdom: savor Emigrant Pass, ice up at Robinson Flat, and listen to Tropical John as you’re running around the track. Congrats to Montana, but you guys didn’t stand a chance! (;  
• Thanks to Corrine Malcolm, Katie Asthmus, and the Here for the Women’s Race folks for welcoming this year’s women’s field and encouraging us to finish. Brilliant initiative!
• Thanks to the dedicated race volunteers, with special thanks to: the Robinson Flat volunteer who changed my socks and shoes, the Dusty Corners volunteer keeping race stats w/ pen and paper, the Michigan Bluff foot care crew, the Rucky Chucky volunteers standing in cold water for hours on end and cheering for each runner, the nut cheering for me at Auburn Lake Trails aid station in the middle of the night, Hal for the hug, and Scott for saying I had a good race going (too kind, multiple Western States 100 winner).
• …and thanks to those obsessively checking the waitlist these past months & cheering me on from afar!