My Journey to the 2019 Western States Endurance Run
by Jayne Peterlin
I started my quest to qualify for Western States in 2015. A milestone event for many ultra runners, qualifying is a journey in itself. Entry each year is ultimately determined by an annual lottery that takes place in the December prior to the Western States race in June. But in order to even enter the lottery, you must finish one of the official qualifying races in a specific time in the year before WS. All of the races on the qualifiers list are 100 kilometers or more, and the 100k races only make the list if they are especially difficult.
I took this journey seriously and did my qualifications every year. Of the five or so thousand people that qualify and enter the lottery, only around 300 are picked in the random drawing. I had qualified via the Cuyamaca 100k in October 2018 in a hot and mountainous area east of San Diego, with a finishing time of 15 hours and 11 minutes, beating the 17 hour allotted time to qualify by almost 2 hours. But it wasn’t until December 1, 2018 when I found out whether I would be one of the lucky ones to get picked for the 2019 WS.
The Good News
On that day I was coming out of a Pilates class, and my phone was blowing up with texts from friends saying my name had been drawn! I couldn’t believe it. I got back to our condo in Truckee/Donner and ran in yelling to my husband Marcus, “IS THIS TRUE?” He grabbed my phone to find my name on the list, while I pestered him to confirm if it was true. This felt like hours to me, even though it was only a few minutes. He finally said, “I’m not sure Jayne,” with a mischievous look on his face — messing with me! I got mad and grabbed my phone back from him. But I was in! I immediately called my pacer, Patrick Morin. He congratulated me and right away told me that he would be my pacer for the race.
At this point I was still in disbelief, and crying. I had been trying for five years to get in and it was finally happening. I turned back to Marcus: “I really got in?” “Yes Jayne, you got in!” Still crying, I immediately texted Peter Fain, a coach I know to make arrangements. We met a few days later and Peter spelled out the details of his expectations. I barely heard him, but I agreed to all his conditions. All I was thinking about at this point was: I have a coach, and I need to get training. I was so excited and ready to go! But in my excitement about qualifying I was ignoring something that had happened a few days earlier.
The Bad News
On November 20, 2018, ten days before hearing I got into WS, I woke up in the middle of the night with extreme arm and hand pain. My forearms were so swollen and hard they were the size of my calves. My hands were so swollen that I couldn’t even make a fist. Within a week I had lost strength in my upper body. I couldn’t tie my scrubs at work, turn a key in my front door, or hold on to a leash to walk my dogs Baxter and Bailey. My face and hands broke out in a terrible rash. Before I knew it, I couldn’t lift my arms above my head. I grew very weak, and was losing weight like crazy. By November 27th (7 days later and 3 days before I found out I got into WS), I was in so much pain that I ended up in the ER.
They admitted me and ran all kinds of tests. Twenty-four hours later, on November 28th, they sent me on my way with a $50,000 hospital bill, no diagnosis and no relief from my painful symptoms. They told me to go see my primary care doctor, so Marcus got me into UCSF to see a couple specialists. I got a scan done for carpal tunnel syndrome, which showed that I had severe carpal tunnel in both hands, along with a bunch of additional lab work.
On December 3rd, three days after I found out I got into WS, the results of the lab work from UCSF came back inconclusive. That month I went to see more doctors with no diagnosis while my arm weakness and pain persisted. I stopped seeing my personal strength coach, Ray Gieger, who I’d never missed a Monday workout with for years. The way I had always imagined it, if I ever got into WS I would launch into a training plan right away, and that would be the focus of my life until the event. In reality, I had done zero running since getting in, and wasn’t sure when (or if) I was going to be able to start training.
Back on Track and in Search of Answers
I suppose in a way I was lucky, considering that my symptoms only affected my hands and arms, and never what I truly needed to run — my legs and hips. This meant that as soon as I felt able in mid-December, I got back to doing short, slow runs. By the end of the month I was back to running and snowshoe running consistently, and I started planning for the races I was going to do leading up to Western States at the end of June.
In the midst of all this, Marcus left for a long deployment on January 1st, 2019. My coach Peter started giving me workouts, while I was still experiencing symptoms. Frustrated with my lack of diagnosis, I started my own research into what was wrong with me. I had worked hard to qualify for the lottery for five years, and I had finally gotten in. I was determined to use my chance.
Google was my best friend. I started researching my symptoms, and gathered enough information to think I could start making some changes to my diet that might help, latching on to the trend articles on the Bulletproof blog. I started on a detox program with activated charcoal, bentonite clay, and glutathione, while cutting nearly everything out of my diet. I went from eating whatever the heck I wanted to only drinking kombucha, but I was losing too much weight. Clearly I was going to need to eat. So I started slowly adding back in grass-fed butter, chicken, vegetables, eggs, yogurt and sauerkraut. But I was just eating bites of food, and before I knew it I was down to 105 pounds. I know this sounds crazy, especially for a runner, but I felt so much better when I stopped eating that I became afraid of food and scared to eat.
I was still getting in every run I could manage, even doing Peter’s workouts in the wind and rain. I kept up my plan of races I had mapped out leading up to WS, entering two snowshoe races in February, and finally restarted strength training in March. I pushed myself to do the Ruck-a-Chuck 50k outside of Auburn in March and was able to pull off 3rd in my age group.
I got another appointment on March 28th with an internal medicine doctor. He did some more lab work and finally some information: told me he thought I might have scleroderma, a chronic connective tissue disease that causes swelling and hardness of the skin and joints. He ordered some more lab work to test his hypothesis. Walking out of his office I felt incredibly relieved to finally have a possible answer.
We got the results of the lab work back a week later, and they were inconclusive. The doctor told me the symptoms would likely flare and subside over time, and to call him when I had another flare-up. At this point I felt incredibly frustrated by Western Medicine, despite the fact that Marcus and I both work in the medical field.
Still willing to try anything for symptom relief, I bought an infrared sauna for our house. I started getting up at 4:00 am to sit in it for 45 minutes before work. But I was so focused on purging my body that at first I didn’t think about taking water into the sauna with me. One morning I sat in it for a 45 minute session, and when I got out and headed to the kitchen for a drink of water, I found myself so dizzy and dehydrated that I had to lay down naked on our travertine floor. My dogs Baxter and Bailey started freaking out around me and it took 15 minutes before I could calm them down and get off the floor. Even in moments as ridiculous and challenging as these, I kept going.
I was starting to get in longer runs, but I really had to live my life and my training day by day. Some days I could barely get out of bed in the morning, barely drive myself to work. Other days I felt ok, but I never knew what to expect. I had a rash on my face and hands that wasn’t getting any better. Most days my body just hurt.
I entered the Woodside 35k on April 7th (finished 4th in my age group) and the Folsom 35k on April 20th (2nd in my age group). Finally at the end of April I entered the Canyons 100k in the hills outside Auburn, and finished 7th in my age group, while improving my time by over an hour from years past.
I started to see some daily improvement in my symptoms with the sauna sessions. I also bought a TENS unit (Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation) that delivers non-painful electronic stimulation that’s supposed to provide pain relief for people with chronic conditions. Before I went in to work every day I would sit in the parking lot outside the hospital in my truck with the TENS on my hands to help with circulation and movement. I walked into work many days with tears in my eyes wondering how I’d make it another day. I let myself feel scared and discouraged sometimes, but I always kept pushing. I was focused on overcoming this challenge, and I worked hard not to feel sorry for myself. I was still losing weight and friends noticed changes in my body, but I blamed it on stress and training. I wasn’t ready to share what I was going through yet.
Six Weeks to Go, and Still Trying Everything
Six weeks out from the big day, I was still on a quest for a definitive diagnosis and symptom relief. I decided to go see a Functional Medicine/Naturopathic doctor. He ran all kinds of lab work to rule out autoimmune disease, and tested my hormone levels. When I went back to see him for the test results, he told me he didn’t see much going on besides low estrogen, progesterone and thyroid. He put me on a hormone regimen that helped my symptoms, but within the first two weeks on it I was having hot flashes every 30 to 45 minutes that soaked my clothes. On the recommendation of my hairdresser, I also started getting regular colonics.
I decided to enter the Silver State 50 Miler outside Reno — 50 miles and almost 10,000 feet of climbing. People suggested I do the 35k race, but I was feeling stubborn and went for the full distance, placing 3rd in my age group. At the end of May, one month out from Western States, I went back up to Auburn for the annual official training weekend. Designed to let runners cover sections of the course, the training weekend was an important time for me to make sure I was mentally and physically prepared for the race. Of course, I didn’t feel like I was, but I completed 31-mile and 18-mile training runs on back-to-back days.
Three Weeks to Go and a Cold Miracle
Three weeks out from the race I started to taper my training runs to prepare my body. I was still on my detox diet, doing sauna sessions, colonics and weekly massages to help manage my chronic pain. One night I was leaving Bikram yoga and remembered a colleague (Eric Samson) telling me about cryotherapy. I was driving down the road shortly after and saw a sign advertising it at a local business. I said what the heck, and pulled into the parking lot in to try it out. I did the cold chamber along with red light therapy, vibration therapy and compression boots. Twenty-four hours later I noticed dramatic improvements in the swelling and rash on my hands and arms. So I went back the next day and signed up for a monthly package.
Despite the fact that I was starting to get some control of my symptoms, two weeks out from the race, I had a complete meltdown at home. I’d done all my physical preparation and assaulted my symptoms with a kitchen sink of different things that seemed to be helping, but I had tried for so many years to get into this event, I was afraid I’d manage to mess it up and miss my chance. I reached out over text to Tom Hodge, an old strength training coach I had over 4 years ago. He called me right away. Tom talked me off the ceiling, reminding me of all the hard work I’d done over the years and suggested some reading to help me change my thinking. After that I was able to visualize the race, the start and how I wanted my attitude to be.
But race time was right around the corner and something really big was missing — I had made no arrangements for a crew. Patrick would be my pacer, and that’s all I knew. Thankfully the brilliant Patrick had my back.
The Team Comes Together
I got a text from someone I didn’t know named Kristel Beilby saying she was a friend of Patrick’s and was looking forward to crewing for me. She wanted to talk. I didn’t really understand why we would need to talk, but she told me she needed some details about me in order to support me at the race, and sent me a long list of questions:
What do you like to eat?
Are you okay with being touched?
Health issues I need to know about?
What do you drink?
What bugs you?
Do you tend to get nauseated?
Do you like flat coke?
Who tends to give you plague?
What’s your plan with drop bags?
These were only a few of her questions! I had never done an event where I really needed to rely on a team, but when Kristel wrote I started to understand that this team would be my everything for the event, and I started to feel much more at ease. I wrote her back with the most honest answers I could. I made sure she understood that my hands didn’t work well, and that they would always be cold.
Another friend of Patrick’s, Brad Rogers, joined my team. He’d done Western States twice before and offered some advice. He told me I didn’t need distractions, and to make sure I was surrounded by positive people. He told me my crew would be there to do a job and would be supporting me 100 percent. The final piece was finding someone to drive my truck to the finish after the race. Patrick found someone, and I was set.
Race Week
Finally it was race week. Check in and bag drop were on Friday in Squaw Valley. My plan was to drive up Wednesday evening. But that night I came home to a broken pipe in my backyard. There was mud everywhere and my dogs were playing in it. This sent me over the edge and I started to cry. I eventually pulled it together and found a handyman to come fix the pipe. I finished up some packing and headed to bed, planning to leave Thursday morning. The alarm went off Thursday and I felt like a truck ran over me. My hands were so swollen I couldn’t make a fist. My body just wasn’t having it, and I stayed in bed all day. Around 5:00 pm I talked myself into getting up to go to cryotherapy. This snapped my body and mind back into place. I came home, loaded the truck, made a good dinner and went to bed, ready to leave Friday morning.
Friday morning I was on the road by 5:30 am. I dropped my bags off at Patrick’s and was in Truckee by 8:00 am. I went to a Pilates class before going to race check-in, which made me feel terrific. The mandatory pre-race briefing wasn’t until 2:00 pm so I went to get lunch. This was taking a chance, since with my detox diet, I hadn’t eaten out since December.
I sat down at Plump Jacks in Squaw, looking at the menu wondering what the heck to order. I knew I needed real food in me for the race on Saturday, so I ordered a burger and garlic fries. As I was waiting for my lunch and questioning my food choices I get a text from Tom, my old strength coach who had talked me off the ceiling a few weeks ago. Twenty minutes later he came in and sat down at my table with a big smile and the most positive energy anyone could hope for. My lunch arrived and I cut the burger in half and took a bite. Damn! It was good. I finished it off. After lunch, Tom dragged me down to the start to get my picture taken under the arch. I would have never done this on my own.
Tom left me with great vibes in his wake. I met up with my friend Chloe who would take my truck to the finish in the morning and went over the logistics. Then to the mandatory pre-race meeting. After the meeting I headed back to the condo. It was early evening and it felt so empty without my dogs, as they are always with me. I wasn’t really hungry since I’d had such a big lunch, so I jumped in the shower, had a glass of wine and set the alarm for 3:00 am.
For some reason I woke up at 2:00 am, an hour before my alarm, so I just got up. I paused for a second, disoriented as to why I was awake. I don’t remember how my body felt. If I was feeling any pain or swelling I just ignored it and told myself to keep moving. I got ready, ate my yogurt, had a cup of coffee and was out the door at 3:00am. I drove to the parking lot at Squaw, but I was an hour early so I just waited in my truck watching David Goggins videos, trying to stay positive.
Kristel drove into the parking lot around 4:00 am — remember we had never met in person before. I walked over to meet her, and her greeting and energy were exactly what I needed. She told me to give her everything I didn’t want to take with me at the start. She questioned a few things, making sure I really needed to carry two headlamps and removing the crap I didn’t need. She told me she was there for me until the finish, and if I needed any of the extra stuff she’d give it me to me when I saw her at the aid stations. Then she asked me if there was anything I wanted to get off my mind before I headed to the start, encouraging me to rely on her completely during the event. I felt so comfortable and supported at this point I actually dropped some mental baggage I had in my head. I told her there were a few people I wanted to give the finger to when I finished, people who I felt didn’t believe in me or think I could do it. She laughed and said she would be right by my side doing that with me. Walking away from her toward the start I felt so much peace inside me. She had taken my baggage and let me go with a clear mind. I hadn’t had that feeling for a long time. I headed to the line for the 5:00 am start.
It’s Go Time
The announcer counted us down, and off we went! My head was in such a good place, I just let my feet start moving. I felt great and anytime chatter came in my head I told myself to “callous my mind,” a mantra I had developed for myself to deal with the challenges of this year. The chatter soon stopped. Going into the Michigan Bluff aid station at Mile 55.7, I looked at my watch and started doing the math. I realized I could complete the race in 24 hours, a major accomplishment at Western States. Kristel and my other crew member Wyatt Moran had a chair set out for me and everything I needed to fuel and go. I just needed to change my socks and shoes. I left Michigan Bluff feeling amazing. I was having such a blast running that before I knew it I was meeting Patrick at Foresthill at Mile 62, the first checkpoint where my pacer could join me. I got my head lamps, some food and a jacket in case it got cold.
It was dark now and we started talking. I am usually pretty quiet when I’m running, but I don’t know if it was the darkness, the running high, or the cumulative effect of not sharing what I had been going through with anyone, but I started TALKING. All year I hadn’t wanted anyone to know I was sick. I didn’t want anyone to tell me I should stop running or stop working or that I should just slow down. It was hard with Marcus being gone, preparing for the race, dealing with all my medical issues, paying all our bills, taking care of our dogs and places by myself. Patrick didn’t know much about any of this, so I opened up. I didn’t need him or anyone else to feel sorry for me, but it was a lot to carry around and it felt good to share it with someone.
Things had been going pretty well in the race so far, but we had encountered a few water crossings on the course, and my feet/shoes/socks were not drying out. Around Mile 85 my feet really started to hurt. I realized I should have brought three pairs of shoes to change into, instead of just two. Patrick kept telling me to put one foot in front of the other. By Mile 90 my GPS watch shut down, so I had no idea how many miles I had left, or what my pace was. This got in my head, even though Patrick kept telling me we had plenty of time.
It became all mental at this point. “Callous your mind, Jayne,” I kept telling myself. Finally, we got to Kristel and Wyatt at Robie Point aid station at Mile 98.9. They changed my socks and got my wet shoes back on. I asked for chocolate milk and downed couple small glasses. We had just a few miles to go. It was starting to get warm and the sun was coming up. I realized that I had been running in a tank top all night, and no gloves. This hadn’t happened in as long as I could remember.
As tough as the last few miles were physically and mentally, before I knew it, we were at the track where the race would finish. We headed onto the track and Patrick turned to me and asked how I wanted to finish the race. I gave him a confused look. He asked me if I wanted to run in on my own, by myself. I said hell NO. I told him we were crossing the line together since none of this would have happened without him.
As I got closer to the finish, I felt tears running down my face and was flooded with a feeling of gratitude for everyone that had helped me get here. I’ll be honest, I had way more bad days leading up to this race than good ones. I questioned myself so many times, whether I’d even make it to the start, let alone the finish. But from the very beginning, I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to let my health problems or anything else keep me from reaching the finish line.
Post Race
Stay hard folks. Life throws a lot at us, but keep making changes every day or every minute, or whatever it takes. I truly believe this is why I’m beating my health problems, and why I made it to the finish line of Western States despite them. All my life I have been a loner, done things on my terms and never wanted to ask for help, and I believe that self-sufficiency is a really important part of who I am. But I learned so much from Western States and the people that supported me, some of them I didn’t even know before they joined my crew. They stepped up for me, and I’ll never forget that. It’s brought me an incredible sense of peace and inspired me to put myself out there to volunteer for other runners since then.
Now almost 4 weeks after the race I feel better than I have in months. I’m finally getting a handle on my symptoms, even though I still don’t have a firm diagnosis. The inflammation in my hands and arms is going down, my head is feeling stronger and I’m seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I keep doing all the things that have been working and adding in anything else I think I need. I’m going to beat this, whatever it is!
