Susitna 3, the video

2011 Susitna 100 from Jill Homer on Vimeo.

I'm still too knackered to write up my race report, but I did throw together a quick film of some of the video and images I shot during the race. The music is "July" by Amy Petty. The song was included on the "Ride the Divide" movie soundtrack, which I recently downloaded as part of my playlist for the Susitna 100 to help motivate me by inserting Tour Divide images in my head during some of the more monotonous parts of the race. This song just happened to pop up on my iPod shuffle during my real low point on the afternoon of day two, on the Yentna River. As my friend Danni says, "waterworks ensued," and afterward I started to feel quite a bit better. I think it's a fitting soundtrack for this video. Enjoy!

Slog-arific

Beat and I finished the Susitna 100 on foot in 41 hours and 16 minutes. All I can say about it right now is — wow, that was really hard. The race was actually much harder than I anticipated, not only in physical effort, but also pain and cold management. As it turns out, traveling 100 miles really is a lot more difficult without a bike — who knew?

It was an interesting year for the Susitna 100. The weather was clear and cold, with colorful skies and incredible views during the day, and overnight temperatures dipping as low as 19 below with a 20 mph headwind. The trail was well packed, awesome for cycling, but the new snow made for tough footing. The fine powder was still very sandy where our little feet punched through. It was very taxing to maintain a 2.5 walk pace, much like trying to run 100 miles in crusty sand. The snow was also very cold, which makes it very sharp — meaning no glide for our sleds. There was a lot of resistance all around.

What else can I say about it? My feet hurt a lot. So do my legs. No injuries, but the usage pain alone led to a minor mental breakdown around mile 70, when I realized I was going to have to endure the pain I was in for at least 13 more hours. Beat and I decided to stick together from the beginning and it was really great to have him around for my low points, even when I got really grumpy and at one point snapped at him that I hoped I didn't finish the Susitna 100 so I wouldn't qualify for any other dumb 100-mile foot events. He also helped me zip up my coat when my fingers froze and refused to work amid a desperate layer-adding effort in the intense windchill on the Yentna River. Did I mention it was really cold? That also made the run that much harder. Yeah, it's hard to eat and drink when your whole face is crusted in ice.

I'll write up the race report at a later date. It really was one of the more intense experiences of my life — did I also mention we were out in the cold without sleep for two nights, not just one. We certainly did a checkpoint comfort tour with the five indoor stops on course, so we did have chances to warm up and reconnect with the real world. But by the second sunset, with all that leg and foot pain coursing through my nerves, my thoughts ventured into new head spaces I'd never before found. Which is the reason why I seek out this sort of stuff — long, difficult slogs that are way over my pay grade. I need to occasionally be reminded that I am weak and small and the world is huge and incredible and mean, and even the world is just weak and small in the grand scheme of the universe. I fall in love the world from this perspective. It's consistently awe-inspiring, even when it's reduced to the tiny beam of my headlamp.

And it was so much fun to share it with Beat, with my new friends Steve and Danni, and with many of the Alaska cyclists I've met over the years. It was incredible to return to Alaska. It helps me realize how much I really miss it, but also that it's still here. I took lots of pictures, and even a bit of video. Check back again!

Su, Su scared

Well, this week has been surprisingly busy and I never got around to writing the pre-race post I was hoping to write. We made it to Anchorage with smidgens of optimism about the Susitna 100, only to have our hubris dashed by nearly a foot of new snow on Friday (such are the reports from my friends in the Mat-Su Valley.) New snow is just a set-back, not a deterrent, but it does mean softer, more strenuous and possibly impassable conditions even for people on foot. No use worrying about it. Since this is my first 100-mile ultramarathon, I feel happy to just try my best and if that's not good enough, well — either way, it will be a memorable experience. I actually get a little excited, even giddy, when I think about the ways the trail conditions might be insanely hard, even for a 100-mile foot race, which already seemed insanely hard. I tell Beat this, and he just shakes his head and says, "You're in for a rude awakening."

Steve, Beat and I all arrived in Seattle from different airports and shared a row on the way to Anchorage, where most of the time was spent nervously updating weather reports on in-flight wireless and gazing longingly out the window at the incredible landscape disappearing below us.

It's rare to see a clear day in Southeast Alaska. This is the volcano near Sitka, Mount Edgecombe.

Chugach! As we flew over the mountains Beat said, "Why don't we just go there instead?"

The Cook Inlet. Just across this icy strait lies the key to our demise.

The first thing we did when we arrived in Anchorage was turn the home where we are staying into a veritable gear tornado. (Sorry Kate.)

Brooks, the Susitna 100 race director, was all about spreading the pessimism. I guess there's something to be said about keeping people mentally prepared, but I for one would rather hear subtle words of encouragement than blatant gloom and doom.

Weighing the gear to ensures it weighs the mandatory 15 pounds. My gear weighed in at 19.9 pounds. My complete kit, including the sled, all of my food (around 8,000 calories including 3,000 emergency calories), and two liters of water weighed 30.8 pounds. Not terrible.

Enjoying pre-race carbo-loading at Romanos with fellow racers. Yeah, it was technically two nights before the race, but you really can't get enough carbs for something like this.

Testing out the completely packed sleds.

Posing with the sleds with Steve, Danni and Beat. Steve has a humorous post about our different sleds on his blog. We're as ready as we can be, which is to say, not much. I'll be dragging my SPOT along on this slog. You can check out the tracking page at this link. Also visit www.susitna100.com for race updates. By grace go I ...

My SPOT tracking page
Danni's SPOT tracking page
Steve's SPOT tracking page