7.28.24 // Badwater135 '24

The time was 7:45 pm.
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I gripped the steering wheel of the White Chrysler Pacifica brutally tight. The wind was whipping across the desolate highway, pulling on the minivan, filled to the brim with coolers, ice, running gear, and 5 slightly anxious, very excited humans.
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The crew vehicles, which were driving to Badwater Basin, were like ants marching as the wind, laced with sand and raindrops, remnants of a tumultuous thunderstorm, attempted to knock us off our intended destination. We watched as the temperature changed dramatically from 117 to 73 to 107 during only 30 minutes of being on the road.
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Humidity wasn't expected for one of the driest and hottest places, but the Badwater135 race is built for folks who love to overcome challenges.
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What came after arriving at Badwater Basin, 282 feet BELOW sea level, was nothing short of a chaotic, adrenaline-filled blur that took us from the lowest point to the portal of the highest point in the continental US, Mt. Whitney.
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135 miles (pavement for 133.5) and somewhere around 80 crew stops to ensure the racer was cared for, cooled, fed (if he could stomach it), and paced (after the first 40 miles) was on the docket for what came to be 35 hours and 42 seconds.
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The trickiest part was that it was over two nights, which meant peak sleep deprivation. Temperatures volleyed pending the elements, and we watched as racers tore ahead, fell behind, struggled, and overcame. We watched as David's commitment to progress forward never wavered- only sitting for 10 minutes at a time and never sleeping.
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I had the honor of pacing David ~30 miles on the course's three climbs. I sang him stupid little songs, muled his gear, and gave him my water reserves if he needed them. Even though I saw him at some of his lowest moments, David still made it look easy.
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The finish line was nothing short of deeply emotional. I was so proud of him for the ffeat, the drive, and relentless commitment to finish. I was proud of the crew, who spent months training, planning, and plotting. I was grateful for accomplishment in a way that crewing had never provided before. Because, in reality, it was a journey for all of us, 135 miles of it.