An epic journey through the Sierras.

5:00 A.M., June 23rd, Squaw Valley. 392 runners lined up at the start line of the 34th running of the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run. All of our nervousness dissipates as the starting gun erupts and the crowd begins the 3.5 mile climb up to the Escarpment, the first checkpoint on the Western States Course.

"The trail ascends from the Squaw Valley floor (elevation 6,200 feet) to Emigrant Pass (elevation 8,750 feet), a climb of 2,550 vertical feet in the first 4½ miles."

My crew (Elisa and John) and my pacer (Glenn) have already made the climb so that they can see me off on my journey. This way they can see the front of the pack make their way up the first of many climbs for the day. I make my way up to the top in just over an hour, grab a couple of gels from the aid station, kiss Elisa farewell and make my way into unknown territory. 96.7 miles left to the finish. And I have no idea what awaits me out beyond the 50 mile mark. But it's too early to think about that. This is a journey from checkpoint to checkpoint. For the remaining 29 hours of the race this would be my goal - just make it to the next aide station.

The next aide station is 7 miles away with a lot of downhill running. There is a net elevation loss of 1290 ft. This portion of the course (as is much of the course) is really quite beautiful. The views through this section are breathtaking and I caught myself thinking that it was really a privilege to get to run on the Western States course. Most people will never have the opportunity to venture along the course we were taking. There is no place to park the car to walk over to view the Scenic Outlook. The only way here is either on foot or on horseback. I was among those who have been selected to traverse these trails on foot. Eventually I end up at Lyon Ridge. Checkpoint #2 of 25. Get water bottles refilled and head back out. Still feeling good at this point but apparently moving a bit slower than I thought I was. Apparently the 5 stops to relieve myself have put me a little behind schedule. Nothing to worry about though. It's still way too early to get excited. Placer High is still 89.7 miles ahead. And it is 5.5 miles to Red Star Ridge, the first fully stocked aide station on the course and also the home to my first drop bag.

I arrive at Red Star Ridge at 9:02 am. I am still not fully aware of it at this time but I am already chasing the cutoffs. The 30 hour runner is estimated to arrive at 8:55. At this point I am not the least bit worried and go through my drop bag to see what I wanted. I had a can of V-8 and one of the volunteers brings my a cup of ice to pour it over. I finish up the V-8, grab some pretzels and move on. Somewhere along the line I made the decision to go with the GU2O that is being served on the course rather than taking the time to mix up my Succeed Ultra. I'm not sure that's the best decision but it makes my life a bit simpler.

Next stop - Duncan Canyon. This is the last section of the course that I am unfamiliar with. I ran most of the trail from Robinson Flat to the finish line during the Memorial Day Weekend Training Runs. Duncan Canyon offers a net elevation loss of 1080 ft. Running through this area of the trail brings a little sadness as I survey the damage from the fires. There is already some signs of rebuilding but it is quite evident that the fire damage to this area has been devastating. Hat's off to all of the volunteers who have committed themselves to rebuilding this area.

I arrive at Duncan Canyon at 10:59 am. I am now 19 minutes behind the 30 hour pace and am feeling nervous. It didn't really feel like I was running that slow up until now. It didn't make sense to me that I would be pushing cutoffs this early in the race. I am a little unnerved but one thing I knew when I lined up at Squaw (and in the weeks leading up to the start of the race) was that "Quitting is not an option." This simple mantra was given to me by Fred Abramowitz, an ultra runner who I have been put in touch with who has completed the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning as well as the Western Slam. The words seem rather simple but they proved to be quite powerful. I knew I would not quit. If I didn't finish it would have to be because I was removed from the course by a race official. No matter how tough it got or how many times I had to go to the well I would not quit. I knew this. My crew knew this. My pacer knew this. We all agreed, "Quitting is not an option." Thanks Fred. I owe you at least a beer or two when we end up meeting face to face.

Next stop - Robinson Flat. 29.7 miles from the start. This is the first time I get to see my crew. The net gain is only 610 ft but the total elevation gain from the last aide station was 1819 ft. A fairly tough climb but I knew that some tougher climbs lie ahead. I arrive at the checkpoint at 12:43 pm - about 18 minutes behind the 30 hour pace. I am discouraged but happy to see my crew. It's time to get a couple of blisters taken care of and then change shoes and socks. I get weighed in - down 3 pounds. Not too bad but not a good sign. I knew there would be trouble since my water bottles were empty by the time I got about half way up the climb to Robinson Flat. I eat half a turkey sandwich while my crew gets to work on my feet. I have blisters on my heels that get patched up and then I am off and running. I changed from my Inov8 Flyroc's to my Brooks Cascadia's. These actually feel better although I love my Inov8s. For some reason they were not working this morning. Maybe I didn't tie them tight enough. While I am thinking about all of this John comes running up behind me. In all of the excitement I have forgotten my chip. It's not really that big of a deal since we need to wear it for 100 miles so that I can cross the mat at the finish line and have my time registered. Still it is good to know that I now have it with me. I'd hate to think that I would get disqualified for not wearing it. Who knows? Maybe it would be seen as an unfair advantage to be running without the additional weight that all of the other runners have to carry? I didn't want to find out.

Next stop on my journey is called Miller's Defeat. I was hoping that I would not present an opportunity to have them rename it Looney's Defeat. The goal from the beginning is make it to the next checkpoint. The goal remains the same here. Miller's Defeat is 4.7 miles from Robinson Flat. Most of this is downhill. The net loss is only 730 ft but this section contains 1347 ft of total decent. The trek through this portion of the trail is rather uneventful. Just keep moving forward. I arrive there at 2:06 pm - 31 minutes past the 30 hour pace. What the heck is going on here? I don't feel like I am moving that slow. I make my way through this aide station discouraged yet determined to keep moving forward. Things have got to get better. Maybe I am just reading the signs wrong? I look again. No. I am behind pace. I still have a comfortable margin between me and the absolute cutoff. This brings some comfort.

Now off to Dusty Corners - mile 38. It's now 3:02 pm - just 2 minutes behind the 30 hour pace. I'm not sure what happened but I'll take it. Maybe I am back on track? We shall see. I still feel pretty good at this point but I realize that I haven't been taking in many calories. Most of the food I see makes my stomach turn. I grab some gels, eat a couple of potatoes, grab a hand full of pretzels and move on.

4 miles later I find myself at Last Chance. I weigh in. 155. Perfect. 1 pound over my starting weight. But I am not feeling very strong at this point. My energy level is real low. I am in the well. I tell the aide station worker that I need to get my energy reserves built back up or I would not be able to finish. I knew the climb to Devil's Thumb would be tough. I sat down and was given some watermelon. That went down well. What about some soup? Sounds good. I give it a try. Good. I use the porta-john, gather my belongings, grab some food for the journey and I am off running. I survived Last Chance. I knew that if I didn't stop and refuel here I would not make it through these next couple of sections. The climbs to Devil's Thumb and Michigan Bluff are probably the toughest sections of the Western States Trail. I had experienced these during training camp weekend. They humbled me. And that was on rested legs. Now I was about to face them with over 44 miles on these legs. Luckily I was able to come back from the well at Last Chance. That aide station volunteer saved my race. And I am not sure that I ever properly thanked him.

I arrive at Devil's Thumb at 6:02 pm - 12 minutes off of pace. Not bad considering I spent at least 20 minutes at Last Chance. I get on the scale. My weight is good. I have been hydrating and taking in electrolytes on schedule. All systems go. An aide station worker looks me in the eyes and asks "how are you feeling?". I say "I'm feeling pretty good at this point." He says "then you need to keep moving quickly. You're pushing the cutoffs. Grab some food and move on." I take his words to heart and move out of the aide station.

5.1 miles to Eldorado Creek. Unfortunately I don't have any time to soak my legs. I need to make it to the aide station, grab what I need and begin the climb to Michigan Bluff. I arrive at El Dorado Creek at 7:31 pm. I'm still 16 minutes behind the 30 hour pace but I am still feeling pretty good. I think to myself that refueling break at Last Chance really was my last chance. If I hadn't taken care of my nutrition problem at that point I wouldn't be here getting ready for the climb to Michigan Bluff. My bottles get refilled, I grab some snacks and start the climb. I look forward to seeing my crew and pacer for a second time. The climb is 2.8 miles with over 2000 ft of elevation gain. The climb is tough but I have been doing well on the climbs. All that boring treadmill work has prepared me for this. I make it to Michigan Bluff at 8:36 pm. For my pacer that means the opportunity to join me a little early. Instead of getting to run the final 32 miles with me he gets to run the last 45. I am happy to see that Glenn is dressed and ready to go. I am certainly ready to have some company. After visiting with my crew and getting some more food and picking up my head lamp my pacer and I run off. It feels weird to enter and leave Michigan Bluff. It's mile 55.7, farther than I have ever run before. My legs ache. My arms ache. My whole body is sore and tired. I have been running alone for most of the day and then I step into Michigan Bluff and there are all of these people - family members, volunteers, other runners, crews and pacers. It almost seems like a dream. The visit with my crew is brief. Theirs is a thankless job. And I don't have any time to take advantage of the work they have done to prepare a place for me. I have to keep moving. I thank them and keep moving forward.

As I mentioned I now have my pacer with me. His real name is Glenn Pace but I know him as Muddy. Muddy and John (aka RocketPack) are friends I know through Coolrunning, an online running community. Muddy and RP were there with me while a bunch of other runners from there and Kickrunners were all tracking me online. That in addition to all of my friends from real life who were tracking me helped keep me going. I also kept thinking that since I was pushing cutoffs I am certainly keeping things interesting for the people at home. What fun is it to track someone who is running well ahead of the cutoffs? That's the kind of guy I am. I'll do what I can to make it an interesting race for the people at home. :)

From Michigan Bluff we make our way to Bath Rd, a 4.9 mile run. This is another point where our crew has access to us. They can actually run with us the 1.4 miles to the Foresthill School checkpoint. This is 62 miles from the start. My first ever 100k. This is the point where our pacers would normally join us for the 38.2 miles to the finish. Muddy got a few more miles than he bargained for. Elisa joins us somewhere along the way. Now that I have my pacer these miles seem to have passed quickly. It's 10:34 pm - only 4 minutes behind the 30 hour pace. I'm still behind schedule but the deficit is getting smaller. Muddy's not worried at all. He keeps telling me we will make up 2 minutes here, 3 minutes there and before I know we will build us a window in the positive. I trust him. Muddy is experienced. He has run this course before. It's not his first 100 miler. I trust his wisdom. Besides, that's his job - to think for me. I stopped thinking somewhere back around Devil's Thumb. His job is to be my brain and keep me on track until we get to the track at Placer. Once there I can think for myself. The last 300 yards I'll be on my own. Until then I am in the hands of my crew and pacer.

After a quick visit with my crew Muddy and I are back running. I won't be seeing my crew again for another 18 miles or so. The night is upon us and for the next several hours it will just be me and muddy and our fellow runners/pacers. Mostly alone though.

3.7 miles we find ourselves at Dardanelles. If I remember correctly this was a small checkpoint lit up with white Christmas lights. Very pretty. Get water bottles refilled and keep moving.

5.0 miles and we are at Peachstone. All I remember from this point is that I am getting tired. I am worried that I might fall asleep while running. Muddy assures me that this is normal and it will pass. We arrive at Peachstone. It's 1:18 am. I am 8 minutes behind the 30 hour pace but trust that Muddy knows what he is doing. I am doing a lot of walking at this point. My legs are tired. I want to sit down and rest. Unfortunately that is not an option. Resting is a luxury not afforded to those of us at the back of the pack. Perpetual forward motion is the name of the game. Left foot, right foot, repeat as necessary.

2.3 miles and we're at Ford's Bar. Another small checkpoint. Refill bottles. Keep moving. Take me to the river. Drop me in the water.

Next stop - Rucky Chuck River Crossing. The workers in this aide station are fired up. They are hooting and hollering as I make my way to this strange brightness that appears before me. I get weighed in again. All is good. I am led to the water. I am baptized as an ultrarunner in the cold water known as the Rucky Chucky River Crossing. I am no longer tired. The cold water has waken my senses. I have run 78 miles at this point. That's 28 miles more than I have ever run before. I start feeling good about my chances of finishing this little run and earning my buckle. I will not quit. "Quitting is not an option." Perpetual forward motion. Somehow I had supposedly gained 54 minutes on the 30 hour runner pace. Muddy and I are puzzled but we will take it. I decide to stay in the shoes and socks I am wearing. They are almost dry anyway. Now it's time to head towards Green Gate, a 1.7 mile climb. This is supposed to be another rendezvous with my crew. It was not meant to be. We are ahead of pace and we miss Elisa and John. Muddy tells the aide station people to let them know we already came through. Although I would have enjoyed seeing them at this point it was a positive thing to know that we were far enough ahead of schedule that we beat them there. It had been many hours since I was ahead of schedule. Keep moving.

Next stop is Auburn Lake Trails - 15 miles from the finish. I am 40 minutes ahead of pace. I am quite aware that I need to keep moving. No window I can build here is large enough to mean I can relax. Perpetual forward motion.

Next stop Brown's Bar. This is the aide station with the philosophy that "if they can run for 24 hours we can party for 24 hours." My running is going better than their partying. They have all drunk themselves sober by this point. There are still hairy chested men in red dresses filling up my water bottles but the party atmosphere is fairly tame. Refueled and hydrated I keep moving on. I am 37 minutes ahead of pace. No time to rest. Get what I need and keep moving. Muddy has been good with that throughout the night. When we are approaching an aide station he would start asking me what I'm going to need so that I am thinking ahead. Electrolytes, food, GU2O, water and some gels. Keep on keeping on.

Next stop is the Highway 49 Crossing - 6.7 miles to the finish. I can do this. I am going to do this. This will be the last time I see my crew before Robie Point. It is daylight and I am feeling energized. Highway 49 is a quick stop. I get weighed for the last time on the course. All systems go. I say goodbye to Elisa and John and start heading towards No Hands Bridge. Soon after we hear some weird noise. It sounds like a growl. We learn later that there was a bear sighting. At that point a bear would have been welcome. Who could blame me for stopping if I was attacked by a bear? :)

Somewhere between Highway 49 (mile 93.5) and No Hands Bridge (96.8) I hit the ground pretty hard. I am not sure what I tripped over but I fell hard enough to bounce. Muddy tells me to take my time getting up - compose myself. Then he asks to take a look at my hand. I show him my hand. I notice that my pinky finger on my left hand is no longer shaped like it is supposed to be and there is a hole in it about the size of a quarter. I can see inside. I ask "Is that bone?" referring to the white stuff inside my finger. Muddy thinks fast, what can i say so that he doesn't go into shock? "No. That's cartilage. No big deal. You'll be fine." That's good enough for me. I wrap my bandanna around my hand and start running. Muddy mentions that if I seek aid at No Hands (no pun intended) I will probably not finish the race. Getting my hand checked anywhere before Placer High never crossed my mind. I'm 96.8 miles into a 100 mile run. "Quitting is not an option." Rehydrate, refuel, perpetual forward motion.

Next stop is Robie Point mile 98.9. Can you believe it? I am going to finish this run. The cutoff no longer looms. I am doing alright thanks to having the best pacer I could possibly have. As we make the climb to Robie Point Muddy points out Elisa and John heading our way. They are prepared to run with me the last 1.3 miles to the finish.

As I approach the top of the hill there are a group of people shouting "Go Michigan!" this gets me psyched. I start to run the last mile towards the High School. It almost seems unreal. I, Tim Looney am about to finish the Western States Endurance Run. Before I know it I am on the track. Glenn, John and Elisa are no longer at my side. I don't hear it but my name is announced over the loud speakers. A couple of people step out from the infield to shake my hand and congratulate me. I cross the finish line in 29:39:09. I finally get to stop running. No more need for perpetual forward motion. Race Director Greg Soderlund place the finishers medal around my neck. I have done it! Yes! I can now proudly declare that I have finished my first Western States Endurance Run. It is my first 100 mile race. I am sure there will be more. But I have no time to reflect. I have a hole in my hand and a finger that needs some attention.

I approach the medical people at the finish. They want nothing to do with it. All she says is "You need to go to the emergency room now. Don't wait until after breakfast. Go now." Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.00.

So off to the emergency room I go. I'm told I might need surgery so I shouldn't eat or drink anything. I just ran 100 miles and I shouldn't eat or drink?!?! I get my wound cleaned and while I am waiting for x-rays Muddy and RP point out that it's almost time for the awards ceremony. I have to go. Every runners name is called and they pick up their buckles. I tell the hospital staff I have to leave and that I'll be back in a couple of hours. They are not too pleased with me but I leave anyway. RP gets me a double cheese burger and some fries. I get my buckle and head back to the emergency room. I do end up getting admitted overnight and having surgery. Not the most ideal ending to my epic journey but at least I earned my bronze buckle. If this fall would have happened early in the race I would not have been allowed to finish. I feel lucky for that.

I am sure there are parts I am leaving out. Other people I want to thank are Carla from kickrunners who kept calling Elisa to get and give updates to keep all of my friends from over there informed and to pass pictures on. Carol Swaney ran this race in 1990. She was always inspirational and willing to pass on her stories and her wisdom. Elisa, besides being my crew has been supportive of me in whatever pursuit. I am lucky to have her as a partner and best friend. Muddy and RP - You guys are the best. I am forever in your debt.

To those of you I didn't mention by name if you are reading this than more than likely you played a role in my journey. However our paths have crossed has certainly made an impact upon me and my running. We have shared trail runs or exchanged ideas and wisdom in person or via email/message board.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

gear: 2 Ultimate Direction Fast Draw Plus water bottles.
Injinji toe socks