Bliss blooms in Death Valley

She will probably lose seven toenails.

But for Spokane’s Lisa Bliss, it was worth it.

Bliss began the Badwater Ultramarathon in Death Valley on July 12 with 71 others, including seven women.

The race begins at the lowest place in the Western Hemisphere and finishes 135 miles later at the 8,360-foot Mount Whitney Trailhead.

Climbing to the top of 14,491-foot Mount Whitney is optional. Bliss, 36, ran the race in 37 hours and 41 minutes. After three hours of sleep, she climbed to the summit of Mount Whitney. She placed 15th out of 57 overall finishers, and was third among women.

“Running 50- or 100-mile races isn’t about running, it is more about the people,” Bliss said.

Many elements and people came together to get Bliss to the finish line. One person was her husband David, 41.

“I am crazy too,” said David, who competed in the Western States 100-mile race in late June.

“When I first met Lisa, I wasn’t running at all,” he said. “I had never done a marathon.

“She let me know early on that ultramarathons are a big part of her life.”

Six months later, he ran the Chicago Marathon.

“I ran another marathon and then a 50-miler,” he said, “and I was on my way.”

Running surrounds their life together. David proposed to Lisa when she completed her first Western States race. They were married in 2002, a week before Lisa ran the Western States the second time.

“People are amazed by how few miles I run,” she said.

Lisa is a doctor and must fit her running around her 60- to 70-hour work week schedule. She averages 25 miles a week.

More amazing, she was a two-pack-a-day smoker for nine years.

Along with the Blisses, the Badwater crew included Larry Ham, Nikki Seger and Bonnie Busch. Larry’s wife, Debbie, helped by sewing pockets into bandannas to hold ice. Lisa wore the bandanna around her neck to keep cool.

“Ice is the most important thing during Badwater,” she said. “You have to have ice.”

The ice helped, but she also acclimatized her body by exercising in extreme heat.

“I would exercise from 30 to 90 minutes, three to five times a week, in a sauna pumped up to 140 to 145 degrees,” she said.

She had to kick her caffeine habit.

“Two weeks before the race, I went completely off caffeine, migraine headache and all,” she said. “I drink caffeine every morning, so I had to adjust my body for the race.”

During the race she ran in long white pants and long-sleeved shirt for protection from the sun in the day, and at night, she wore a reflective vest and shorts. She kept a log of race fuel: 10 gallons of water, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, bouillon and pretzels.

“The hills dictate a lot, and the pace is slow,” she said.

Lisa had the training, fuel and the right clothes, but without a strong crew she wouldn’t have made it to the finish line.

“Every mile they fed me, traded out my water bottle, and sprayed my clothes with water,” she said.

Weighing in is another essential task. A 3-percent weight decrease could mean the start of dehydration.

The crew also kept track of her body temperature. A runner can leave the course to take a nap, placing a stake in the course and returning to the same spot to resume the race. But time keeps on clicking away.

Her strategy was to run until she felt like walking, and then walk until she felt like running.

Crew member Larry Ham was amazed by Lisa’s efforts.

“I was in charge dousing her with water along with physical therapy needs, weighing her every hour and monitoring her temperature,” Ham said. “It was a real team experience, catering to Lisa’s needs and solving problems. Everyone did their job and worked hard

“Her effort was actually superhuman.”

At mile 122, she ran into a McDonald’s Restaurant, combed her hair, changed into dry clothes, and popped a huge blister.

“It was so big and tight, the explosion nearly hit the ceiling,” she said

Back on the road it was dark, and the fourth-place woman’s crew car appeared.

“They were scoping out my position,” she said.

It was the only time in the race she let her competitiveness surface.

“I thought I didn’t run 130 miles to have her beat me,” she said. “After I found out Carolyn (Smith) was behind me, I shouted to my crew, ‘Red Bull!’Tthey slapped one into my hand. I drank it down, and I took off.

“The adrenaline rush made it a great race for me. It pushed me. I loved pushing at the finish.”

Smith finished 15 minutes behind her.

“I always wanted to be someone who crosses the finish line and either passes out or pukes or does something, but it never happens,” she said.

She didn’t pass out, but she finished pushing until the very end, as she always wanted.