2017 Rio Del Lago - Running and crewing as a village

Sometimes, it takes a village to crew a runner. And that's not a bad thing. For the 2017 Rio Del Lago, we got our crews together to plan for our 4 runners, Ramiro, Bob, Dorian and Jeff.  During the pre-race party, we shared some tips, figured out who was going to be where and when, and took pleasure in watching the nervousness of our four first time 100 mile runners. Heh heh.


I was surprised to find myself the only one one of the few in the group that had completed a 100. I'd also run the RDL a couple of years earlier, although I DNF'ed that one. Sharing the lessons I'd learned made me feel a bit like Papa Smurf. I may not be quite that grey just yet (or blue) but I do look good in red.

The biggest X factor in the Rio Del Lago is the weather. October is often a warm month, as it was in 2017, the year that Napa Valley burned down, but RDL weekend in November often brings the first taste of winter. That was the case in 2015 when I dropped at mile 75. I knew it was going to be cold, but I didn't prepare to be that cold. I dressed to be warm enough while running, not factoring in that I'd be walking long stretches of the race (due to cramps). Lessons learned.

We kept our eyes on the weather forecast, as it called for steady rain on the day before the race. The rain was supposed to end by early afternoon of the race's first day, but the temperatures were to drop to near freezing overnight. It was going to be a wet and cold smurfin' good time in 2017.

Tim and I were going to crew and pace Ramiro. We made the 3 hour drive from San Jose to Folsom on race morning, too late for the mile 18 crew stop. The first 18 miles is a simple paved loop around Folsom. Ramiro should be able to take care of himself, or so we thought, rightly or wrongly. Tiffany and Dave (Dorian's crew) were at the start line and at mile 18 though, so they provide the group with updates on our quartet.

We waited in the rain at the mile 35 crew stop, Rattlesnake Bar. We watched our quartet come in, helping each one with their drop bags and changing gear. We also got to see a number of other friends, some we didn't even know were here. Still early in the race at just 35 miles in, a fun time was had by all. Jeff blew chunks though, and although he was the first of our crew to arrive, an hour of blowing even more chunks did not help his prospects. Blue in the face and a kaleidoscope on the pavement, he smurfed out of the race from there. One's loss is another gain, as Jeff's designated pacer, Stuart, later went on to pace Bob instead. "Better you than me," says Bob to Jeff.

Bob, looking fresh

Satpal, joyful as ever

Ramiro is ready to tango

The next crew station was at Auburn Overlook, mile 45. We planned for Ramiro to take 2.5 hours to cover those 10 miles in between. Tim was to pace starting from there for the next 30 miles. The rain was supposed to have let up by now, but it was coming in fairly consistently. With the mud and nagging foot pain, Ramiro came in later than expected but still at mid-pack pace. Too soon to worry, Tim and Ramiro were off for their adventure. I wouldn't see them until after midnight. Again, the rain was supposed to stop now, so I advised against unnecessarily carrying a half wet jacket. Of course, it rained hard for the next three hours. Whoops! Bad crew!

Dorian the explorian is all smiles on at mile 45

The RDL course is a bit funny here. From mile 45 to mile 75, there is no crewing. It's like sending a rocket around the dark side of the moon. If anything got smurfed along the way, there was no good way for the crew to know or do anything about it. So I did what I could do. I went out for a nice dinner with my wife, had a warm shower at the hotel and a two hour nap. Ah, the tough life of being crew.

Up at 11PM, with nothing better to do and with legs ready to go, I set off for No Hands Bridge, mile 71, where I thought I might be able to start pacing. Bob passed through an hour before I even got there! Dorian came in at midnight, struggling but charging after changing shoes and pacer. Satpal apparently came flying through like a ghost. How does one miss a 6'4" Indian? And where was Ramiro? There is no cutoff at No Hands, but there is a 3:25 AM cutoff at the next aid station, Auburn Overlook. It's only 4 miles but with 1,000 ft of elevation gain. Realistically, this late in the race for us mid-packers, 2 AM is the absolute latest one should leave No Hands.While waiting, I helped several runners recover and prepare for the next section, if by nothing else other than letting them use my chair. That's how I ass-isted them. Get it? Do I know dad jokes or do I know dad jokes? The answer, if you ask my daughter, is please don't.

No Hands Bridge gives you wings!

Alas, I would not get the chance to test out my wings. I received a text from Tim that they were not even going to make it to Highway 49, the prior aid station, by 2AM. Two hours to cover the previous 3.5 miles must have been brutal. I packed my things, including a solo runner who decided to drop at the bridge, and drove Tim's truck up to Cool to get my mates. While waiting for the boys, a few ladies jumped into said GMC truck to "warm up". What is it about girls and pick-ups? I've never had this experience with my Toyota mini-van.

I entertained thoughts of finding a way to pace someone else. I got all lubed up and Ramiro wasn't even going to use me. What a shame. Maybe I could hook up with a random runner for a one night stand. But in the end, I remained faithful to my blue crew and saw to it that he made it back to the hotel safely into the waiting arms of his lovely wife, just as he did for me two years earlier when I DNF'ed (to my wife, not his).

So Jeff (Blue Smurf), Ramiro (Sleepy Smurf) didn't make it. Bob (Brainy Smurf?) and Dorian (Smurfette, obviously) made great efforts to finish our their tough days completing their first 100 milers. That's how it goes sometimes. Sometime, you smurf the smurf, and sometimes the smurf smurfs you.