By Tyler Sheedy
Every year at the end of June, the eyes of the trail running world turn to Auburn, California for the iconic Western States 100, the original and most famous 100 mile race on the planet. Similar to the Masters Tournament in golf or the Kentucky Derby in horse racing, a win at Western States can define an ultra runner’s career. Just qualifying for the race requires a top three finish at one of six prestigious races across the globe. Non-professional runners can enter the race through a lottery, but it generally takes more than a decade to be selected. My dream is to compete at Western States one day, and thanks to a graduation gift from my parents, this year I was able to take a trip and watch the race in person.
I flew out on Thursday, two days before the start. I met my parents in Sacramento, and we immediately drove to Auburn, where the race finishes on the Placer High School track. Within an hour of landing at the airport, I was dropped off on Highway 49, seven miles from the finish. I then ran the famous trails all the way to the track, getting to finally experience the course for myself! It was surreal to cross No Hands Bridge at Mile 97, and climb up to Robie Point at Mile 99 before sprinting through town to the finish. I’d only seen a select few places on video before, so connecting the dots between all of them and experiencing the difficulty (and heat) of the course was very eye-opening. At the track, they were setting everything up for the race on Saturday, and I was excited to be back in 48 hours to see how it would all play out.
After a quick bite to eat, we drove out to the town of Foresthill, where we had an AirBNB across the street from the Mile 62 aid station, one of the fastest parts of the course. I couldn’t help thinking about the documentary “Found on 49” where course record holder Jim Walmsley rolls through the streets of Foresthill at sub-6:00 pace eight hours into the race. Watching that nine years ago was the moment where I knew I wanted to race ultramarathons one day! We went to sleep with big plans for the next day.
Friday was very busy. In the morning we drove east to Olympic Valley, where Western States officially begins the journey to Auburn. The race starts by climbing up the access roads at Palisades Tahoe, a gorgeous ski resort with views of Lake Tahoe. In the village at the base, there were dozens of endurance running vendors giving away free gear. The whole place was decked out in HOKA banners, the lead sponsor of the race. It seemed like everywhere we looked there was a trail running celebrity: Kilian Jornet (widely considered the greatest mountain runner of all time), Scott Jurek (winner of Western States seven straight times in the early 2000s), and John Kelly (three-time finisher of the infamous Barkley Marathons) were all there, among many others. It took all I had to not freak out and ask everybody for a photo, but I decided I’d get a picture with them one day when I was actually in the race.
After a great morning of trail running festivities, it was time for the part of the trip I’d been thinking about the most: my long run on a giant chunk of the course! On July 18th I’m running the Vermont 100 Miler, so I thought getting in my last big effort along the trails of Western States 24 hours before the race would be extremely fun. The plan was to run from Michigan Bluff at Mile 55 to the Rucky Chucky river crossing at Mile 78, and then add on to hit a 50K (31 miles). It was an ambitious plan, especially because I would have to navigate Cal Street, the hottest and most isolated sixteen mile stretch of the race. But my excitement outweighed my fear, so I was ready to go!
We drove out to Michigan Bluff and I took off hard. It was easy to imagine myself in the race, because the course markers were out and I was literally the last person out there before the racers came through. I was maybe a little too eager because I absolutely smoked the opening climbs, and then descended hard into a small canyon at Mile 59. I had to climb about 1000 feet back out over the next two miles, and then I accelerated again when I got out onto the road in Foresthill, where my parents were waiting at the actual location of the aid station at 62 miles. They swapped out my water and gave me a bandana full of ice, which was refreshing on my neck. I took off again, and sprinted past all the workers setting up tents and banners for the actual race. People cheered me on and I felt so cool! Then I took a left onto Cal Street, and I wouldn’t see a soul for the next two hours.
Cal Street starts out lightning fast. I split a 6:08 and descended 400 feet, spotting the American River thousands of feet below me. The trail winds its way into the deep canyon, and wildfire damage means the sun beats down on you the entire way. I just tried to relax and enjoy the run, but the thrill of the course was impossible to ignore. At mile seventeen of my run (72 of the course) I finally got to the river. That meant there was no more descending to help me, and I was already exhausted. I channeled the spirit of Jim Walmsley and pressed on, and arrived at Rucky Chucky campground a broken man, with the ice long gone from my bandana and water bottle bone-dry 23 miles into my run.
Mile 78 of the course requires an iconic crossing of the American River, but the rope and rafts are only reserved for racers, so I had to climb back up 1000 feet in two miles to the main road and finish my 50K elsewhere. My parents replenished my supplies so I was able to get a quick reset before the uphill, and I ran most of the way to the top. The last six miles were a slow jaunt around a lesser known trail system to the west of Foresthill, and finally I got back to the car a little past four hours into the run. Upon reviewing the data I was pleasantly surprised with the effort, and more importantly a giant weight was lifted off my shoulders before watching the race. We drove to the AirBNB and rushed to bed by 8:00pm, knowing the next morning would be a very early wakeup.
Unfortunately, while most of my body was eager for rest, I couldn’t fall asleep for hours because my legs were so sore! Finally, I dozed off around 11:30pm, so you can imagine my devastation when my alarm went off at 1:30am. With the race starting at 5:00am two hours away, we slumped into the car and groggily drove back to Olympic Valley. We got there 90 minutes before the race, took a photo at the starting line, and began hiking up the course with hundreds of other ultra running fans. It was a four mile trek to the Escarpment, the epic crest of the first climb of the race, and the atmosphere was incredible. There were free coffee and donuts halfway up the route, and a giant HOKA symbol was projected onto the steep cliffs of a peak. I was completely exhausted, but the pure excitement in the air lifted my spirits, and by the top I felt amazing. We were surrounded by people from across the country who shared a similar passion for the sport, and the sunrise over Lake Tahoe was unbelievable.
Suddenly, down the steep road, there they were: the lead pack of the greatest ultra runners on the planet. It was a freezing cold morning with wind gusts of 60mph, but nobody at the summit cared. We cheered our hearts out as they came roaring through the crowd, and even with the biggest race of their lives ahead of them, every single racer smiled. Some gave high-fives, some pumped their fists, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that to be me. The crowd was just as passionate when the non-professionals ran through, and my favorite moment was when an older man reached the top and spun around to take it all in: he’d finally made it, and was racing at the greatest hundred miler in the world. I may have cried.
After watching the majority of the field come through, we made our way back down in the morning light. Jax’s Diner in Truckee, California was packed with running fans watching the race livestream and I got some much-needed pancakes before the ride back to Foresthill. Back at the house I took a two hour nap while Hans Troyer and Riley Brady took the lead at Mile 38. Around noon, we stepped outside of the house and the energy was electric.
The entire street was lined with fans and race crews. HOKA and Nike had live watch parties happening a block apart, and David Roche, who must have been coaching at least half the lead pack, was running all around getting ready for his athletes. We found a nice spot a little before the aid station and patiently waited for the runners.
Sadly, the stretch from Dusty Corners to Foresthill was not friendly to my favorite athletes. Kilian Jornet was the first victim, and he dropped out a few hours before our spot (although funny enough, I would later spot him cheering on the runners in Foresthill. Kilian really is the GOAT). Then Jim Walmsley ran into trouble, and he pulled himself out of the race just a mile away! I was so disappointed, because I wouldn’t get to see two of my heroes – but that all changed when Hans Troyer, the 26-year-old phenom, came blazing through with his crew spanning the entire width of the street.
Hans blew by us and for a brief moment, I thought it was over. He was going to win, break Jim’s record, and for the next ten years he’d be untouchable. But then out of nowhere, Italy’s Francesco Puppi ran through in hot pursuit. Foresthill was going nuts watching these guys come through. I watched them take the turn onto Cal Street and thought “this is going to be an all-time race.” I knew how difficult and hot the next section of the course would be, and I couldn’t imagine racing through over 100K into the day. France’s Vincent Bouillard came by a little later looking strong, and before long it was time for the women’s leaders to run through.
The women’s pack had been very close for the first half of the race, but in the miles leading up to Foresthill it was Jenn Lichter who had started building a gap in her hundred mile debut! She looked very strong and the crowd was super excited to see her inching towards the top ten of the overall race. Riley Brady was still close behind, and once the two of them rolled through right around the course record pace, we knew it was about time to get moving to Auburn to see how things would finish at the track. We had wanted to stay to see 2020 Olympic Marathon Bronze Medalist Molly Seidel, but she had run into issues at Michigan Bluff and wouldn’t be at Foresthill for a few more hours. To her credit, Molly did end up eventually finishing in just over 24 hours, a full display of grit even when the race didn’t go her way!
We got to the track and it was pandemonium. There was a giant screen showing the livestream, and the men’s leaders were approaching 90 miles. Hans had completely blown up on Cal Street and would end up dropping out at the Mile 78 Rucky Chucky River Crossing. It seemed like Puppi would run away with the title, but Bouillard had cranked up the pace and was closing down on the Italian. Suddenly, the Mile 94 camera appeared on screen – Vincent Bouillard was in the lead!
My dad and I claimed a spot on the fence right next to the finish line and waited in anticipation with thousands of other people as Vincent charged through the final miles of the course. By this point, it was abundantly clear that the Frenchman would not just break Jim Walmsley’s course record of 14:09, but would absolutely smash the 14-hour barrier! The livestream picked him up at Robie Point and followed him for the final mile, and the crowd erupted when he entered the track. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was incredible to witness history firsthand, and it was quite the celebration. After breaking the tape at 13:46:15, Vincent ran down the line giving high fives and I was the first one he touched. Less than five minutes later, Francesco Puppi would finish second, in a time that would have easily won any other year. And if that wasn’t enough, Ryan Montgomery (who is based out of Hanover, New Hampshire!) charged down the stretch in third, also under 14!
All eyes turned to the women’s race. Lichter and Brady were like an accordion all afternoon, with Jenn always in the lead, but Riley keeping it close. Once she crossed No Hands Bridge with three miles to go though, it was starting to be a clear win for Lichter. The biggest question became if she could break Courtney Dauwalter’s record of 15:29. I decided to go for a quick run out to Robie Point to cheer her on with a mile to go, and it was a party out there. I started chatting with a guy who lived in Auburn and had no idea about the importance of the race. It was a fun conversation, but we had to stop because Jenn had arrived! She ferociously powered up the final hill with her team behind her, and it was clear she was well aware that she needed every second to break that record. Luckily, there was a TV screen at Robie Point and so we all watched in anticipation as she reached the track and finished the race in 15:28:05 – a new course record by just over a minute!
It had been an exhilarating day. I have watched many Western States livestreams, and none of them compared to being at the race in person. After a hard sleep back in Foresthill, we returned to the Auburn track at 10:00 the next morning to watch “Golden Hour” or the last hour of the race before the 30 hour cutoff. Golden Hour is special because every single fan gets to celebrate an extraordinary accomplishment by normal people. It’s no longer the professionals, it’s those who likely only have one chance to make their dream come true and want nothing more than to reach the finish in time.
There were 44 people who reached the finish within that final hour, and so many of them had incredible stories and were fighting with everything they had to get across the line. Many of the elite athletes had returned after finishing the night before and were a part of the crowd. Athletes were limping, leaning to the side, or were in tears as their families joined them for that glorious final walk around the Placer High oval. I truly think it may have been louder during Golden Hour than it was when Vincent was breaking the course record. It was probably the most inspiring thing I have ever seen, and I was so thankful that I got to be there.
A couple hours after the cutoff, it was like the race had never happened. Foresthill had gone quiet, and when I went for a run on the trails, there was no sign of ultrarunning history being made just a day before. We flew home on Monday after the race, and the entire plane ride I watched the epic videos I had taken. To an outsider, it’s a bit silly to go on vacation just to watch a race, but the world will be looking back on the 2026 Western States for years to come, and I will always be able to say “I was there.” Ultra running is the greatest sport in the world, and being in the presence of those legends has lit a fire under me. I can’t wait for my turn to run 100 miles from Olympic Valley to Auburn!
