Rosie Nanette Gagnon

Oct 1012 min read

Sangre De Cristo / Blue Wolf 100 #79 Westcliffe/Dillon Colorado

Sangre De Cristo 100 was held 6 days after Grindstone 100 in Westcliffe, Colorado. Last year when I ran the Silverheels 100 and came in DFL ( Dead F-ing last) I won the award of a free entry into this race. I decided to use what would be the entry fee and fly myself out to Colorado for the weekend, rent a car in Denver and drive 3 hrs to the race start, sleeping in my rental car.

No way would I miss out on a free race in my 2nd home in the Rocky Mountains! I was kinda puffy and sore all week from Grindstone, and very fatigued, and it didn't help I started a new job where I was on my feet most of the day. The arch of my left foot started throbbing and really hurting towards the weeks end. I hadn't figured out training yet with my 8am work start time but mostly it was a recovery week, so I only put in an hour or two of mileage T-Th. Sam Bartlett, father of Curtis Bartlett, a veteran and policeman who was killed on duty, created a first-class gym locally, and he offers memberships to veterans and first responders. A few months ago he did an interview with me about my cause of running 100 100s for veteran suicide awareness. Because Dexter served, Sam offered me a free gym membership. This has been an amazing blessing for my training and it will be critical going into the cold wet months of a Virginia winter! I've been taking Kevin's weighted vest and doing an hour of stair climbing at the gym after 2 hours out on a trail, and started doing speed work on the treadmill again. I left my own treadmill at the Berryville house and miss those speed interval workouts! There are a lot of veterans at the gym and I've made a few friends there and was invited on a few dates. Nothing serious though. I think I scare men away when they realize how physically active they're going to have to be to have a meaningful relationship with me, Haha! Anyway, it's been fun and good for training, but my foot had me concerned. The night before I flew out to CO we had a huge storm roll through the South. Hurricane Helene. Kevin and I hung out late and blasted music to cover the clamorous sound of rain slamming the tin roof of our office, but I do love a good thunderstorm. I had to be up by 3am to make the 2 hr drive to the Charlotte NC airport so I didn't get much sleep. The storm brought down trees on the road that I had to maneuver around, and a tropical storm was moving in. I had a 3hr flight delay where I caught up on a little sleep.

I finally got out to sunny Colorado only to later find out the storm ended up being the deadly 1000 year storm we've seen on the news, and we had a tornado skip through our property, miraculously sidestepping our buildings, but taking out part of pour race course. Helene devastated my community and large areas of the south. Two neighbors had their homes destroyed by flood waters. Luckily our sheep, bees and most of our favorite trees were spared. I was mostly not told about the scope of the disaster on our property so that it wouldn't hurt my focus on my race. I appreciated Kevin and Paul mentally protecting me from that. None of our buildings were destroyed, but the awning on my camper broke off. Paul and Kevin so kindly repaired it for me over the weekend in the midst of caring for all our neighbors and helping to clear roads.

We started the race at 4am in chilly 40 degrees weather. I felt fresh and climbs came pretty easy to me. I was somewhere in the middle of the pack and made friends early with a guy named Tommy from Argentina. We'd run near each other for a good part of the day. As the sun rose I got lost in the beauty of the golden aspens, blue skies and dark pines. The aid stations at this race were excellent. Sweet Potato, bacon, & turkey + avocado quesadilla were my favorites. Also thrilled that someone brought candy corn. Seeing snow on the high peaks above, crossing little rivers and bridges over beaver ponds, smelling the intoxicating pines, every turn on the trail was a photograph or a moment. Kevin reminded me ...'DFS' ... I wrote it on my hand.

111- At the right place, at the right time, with the right people. The big downside to this race is that it is run on jeep roads and ATV trails that are largely dust and loose rocks, Difficult to run. Reaching our 3rd aid station, I was met by 2 ladies who wanted to chat about my pack and my mission while I wolfed down some glorious apple crumb pie. 2 huge pieces. One of the workers told me she had lost her brother Matt to suicide and ran to cope with the grief. We spoke for a few minutes about how we always feel them out on the trails and how it's a real feeling. They literally are there, just beyond our sight. It was a sweet chance meeting and I was glad we got to talk as suicide survivors. I was so focused on her and the delicious pie that I left the aid station without my bottle.

Kevin called sometime during the hot afternoon to update me on the destruction and heavy work they were doing at home. When I realized I'd left my bottle I mildly panicked but realized I could use a Ziplock baggie to collect water from the spring to drink. I had a 9 mile stretch to run in the heat of the afternoon. Fortunately, Laura, one of the girls from the aid station, drove to a nearby trail and met me with my full water bottle. I met a cool Marine out for his first hundo named Manual. We both choked up as he thanked me for what I was doing out there, running for suicide awareness. I could tell he was dehydrated and warned the folks at the next aid station that he'd need help. Sadly he didn't finish the race.

By late afternoon - evening I was pretty dehydrated. I fueled for hours on pineapple and grapes but was nauseous as early as mile 37. Struggling at dusk, I was sleepy and nauseous. I think the last prescription of zofran I got may be a little different because it seems like it makes me really sleepy. I had to stop and set my alarm by the side of the trail for a few 18-minute naps. It took me 16 long hours to hit 50 miles. The biggest climb of the race to Music Pass was brutal. 4 steep technical miles up, and I was 40-minute miles. I felt completely depleted. Every 10 to 50 steps I had to stop and sit down and dry heave. There was nothing in my stomach, but I had severe waves of nausea come over me every quarter mile. On the climb I met a runner I'd been around to all day. We were both completely spent. Two people suffering in the middle of the night. It was some good companionship as we sat down on the side of the trail, him going down, me going up. Kyle, my brief best friend. We talked for a few minutes, commiserated and encouraged each other, then I continued up and he went down. It meant a lot to have someone to share that dark difficult place with. It was below 40 degrees, and I had to pull out my coat and wool layers, hot hands and mittens to keep up my body temperature. I decided I would find out what time the cutoff was at the next station thinking I had 2 hours to spare, so I would plan to sleep for an hour to let my stomach recover, drink some water then hopefully get up to do the last 20 mi stretch out, which was a full 40 mile out and back. I was a little shocked & disappointed and a tiny bit relieved when I got back to the aid station. A volunteer had told me the wrong way to go. I was told I had done the wrong out and back, as there were two out and backs. Music pass 4.2 Mi long each way the other 20. I thought I was supposed to alternate them, but instead I was supposed to do the long stretches back- to- back and then do the last climb to the pass. . The timing was off when the aid stations be closed if I went back out to do the long stretch, all of the aid stations would be closed therefore they took me off the course and gave me a medal for finishing 100k. That really sucked. I was 2 solid hrs above cutoff and would have finished in a timely manner, even as sick as I was. I had been miserable, but I decided maybe it was okay to be done. I climbed into the back of my SUV and slept for 2 hrs.

When I woke up just before dawn, my stomach had settled down enough drink water and eat potatoes. Doing solo races can be difficult. With a pacer you have someone with a fresh brain to help keep you from making dumb decisions or going the wrong direction, so I kindof chewed myself out for not making more of an effort to study the course, though directions could have been made much clearer to runners. I was kind of upset that it was a volunteer who sent me the wrong direction. I chatted a bit with Kevin, 2 hrs ahead back in Virginia, about the destruction they were dealing with as he told me about how he survived the giant tromping through Froggy Mountain in the guise of a tornado. I tried to decide how to spend my Sunday. I looked up several summits' but then realized where I really wanted to go. Dillon Colorado. My favorite mountain town. I realized without much trouble I could park my car in the center of the lake- reservoir parking and do several out and backs using my car as an aid station and do the rest of my hundred miles. Bummed of course that it wasn't a race, but I came to Colorado to run 100 miles for Dexter, Dillon, Jake, Jacob, Nate, Taylor and Morgan, and I intended to finish that goal. I talked with the race staff for a few minutes then heated up my car and made the drive to Dillon.

I'd eaten a bunch of salted ham, chex mix and pistachios and drank several bottles of water to rehydrate and refuel, to hopefully get my body into a good place where I could put down another 39 miles. I did not change out of my dirty sweary race clothes, which were no longer sweaty, and I was only mildly stinky. I made a quick stop at walmart for grapes, fritos, drinks and stuff.

I was disappointed I didn't bring home a buckle from the race, but figured I could look for one at a Colorado thrift shop real quick. I needed to stop and look for a ball cap to block the sun anyway. I found the perfect hat, light blue with an insignia, "Blue Wolf." It seemed perfect when I then discovered for $5 a silver buckle with a silver wolf on a blue background. I took that as 100% confirmation that it was a sign from Dexter than he wanted me to finish this run and count it as one of my 100s.

I parked at the Dillion Ampitheater and prepared to finish my 100. With the high altitude and clear sunny skies, it felt uncomfortably hot even though it was only about 75 degrees. I was glad to have the hat because the sun was relentless. About every 2 miles on the first 10 mile out and back, I had to keep going to the lake or small creeks to douse my arms and head in water. The air was sooo dry that within minutes my shirt would be completely dry and I would be overheating again. I knew dehydration was still going to be a problem. At one river, I found an empty water bottle water that I filled to carry so I could dump it down my shirt and over my head and down my sleeves to stay cool. It was a breathtaking, beautiful, perfect autumn afternoon. My heart felt full of happiness because I love the Frisco = Dillon- Silverthorn area and I've never been there in autumn. Seeing all the trees and my favorite mountain peaks with autumn colors, green- blue lake water and listening to some church music was what my spirit and soul needed.

I like to remember that it's Sunday even though I can't get to church. One of my favorite parts of my Sunday playlist is a young kid who is an LDS missionary and a rapper. He has uplifting, happy lyrics and it reminds me of Dexter because he once wanted to be a Christian rapper. I felt him smiling and jamming out with me. I was suffering from some blisters on my heels little bit of muscle soreness. I loved the lingering wildflowers, and lucky ravens seemed to follow me. I felt each bit of cloud cover that increased through the afternoon was a blessing as trees became less frequent and I had longer and longer stretches in the sun. I felt queasy as the afternoon went on and started methodically keeping track of fuel, 10 Fritos and 8 oz of a cold hot chocolate packet in my bottle filled with river water, every 2 miles.

I called my sweet Hannah and grandbabies near sunset after I visited the Eagle monument in Dillon, which was so sweet and fun. Lucy and Ellie are adorable and fill my heart with joy. We talked for a few minutes but almost immediately after I called, I got a giant wave of nausea. I had to hang up and go behind a tree to throw up. I accidentally stumbled onto somebody's campsite but it was the only coverage in sight, so I had to go to edge of it as the only privacy and had some diarrhea violent vomiting, lol. A few miles later I had another last big gut wrenching stop and every drop of fluid in my stomach came out, luckily it was getting dark and chilly and very few people were out and about on the trail.

I was power hiking but more like weary stumbling, towards loveland pass. I had a 9.5 mile out and back to finish off 100 miles. Sleepiness hit hard. I layed down on the side of the trail a few times but tried to press steadily forward to my turnaround point. The Milky Way was so bright. There were perfectly clear skies and silence in the cold mountain air. I've had on my coat and mittens with hot hands to keep me warm. One thing that made me happy was to see green lights pine trees, reminding me of a familiar greed headlamp often seen on Froggy Mountain.

I had been carrying a lot of weight in grapes, water and hot chocolate but with my stomach rejecting everything I decided to just sump all my calories to lighten my pack. All I fueled on was sucking a wintergreen mint in my cheek and taking in about a tablespoon of water per mile to get a trickle of fluid. I tried to just get lost in music. I sang along to the Sound of Music and Les Misérables, taking a 1-minute nap every 2 miles. I had on two coats because I'd slowed down so much, I was shivering. I found a spot outside of the wind outside a closed PO box.

I was grateful for a late night text from a FB friend whose notification woke me up and got me moving again before I got hypothermia. I'd been alone for hours, so I was happy to have a friend check on me. I knew I needed calories. I found a cluster of grapes I'd abandoned earlier and tried chewing them up and spitting out the fiber just to absorb some of the sweet juice. My stomach didn't agree and I ended up dry heaving every little speck of juice for 5 minutes, but I did feel better and it woke me up for my last quiet 3 miles. I listened to the ending songs of Les Mis which hit home and was the perfect ending to the long and arduous adventure. For as much as I struggled with nausea, I didn't feel in the least like I'd cheated by breaking up my 100 miler, I paid a full price for every one of those miles.

The lyrics to the Les Mis epilogue seemed the perfect ending for this 100 miler, the Blue Wolf.