San Juan Solstice 50: 2017 Edition

Connecting with the ultra trail running community has been great. Jennifer and I have made so many great friends over the years and we are connected by this common experience that most people consider lunacy. The San Juan Solstice 50 Mile Run is a great event and my second time running it a few weeks ago was special because of all the friends with whom we shared it and the new friends we made this go-round.

One of the highlights was at about mile 45, as I was just cresting the last climb, I came across a runner with whom I'd been jockeying back and forth all day and who I assumed was his pacer (runners can take on a pacer for the last 10 miles in the event). The pacer was carrying something out of the ordinary. When I caught up to them, he was already playing his ukelele and asked for my name. Once provided the required info, he sang me a custom hula song and I hula'ed for him. Turns out the musician/pacer was Roch Horton 10 time Hardrock finisher and his runner was Allen Hadley on his way to setting a new course record in the 60+ age group (which he just entered on the 60th birthday the day before).

Here's the cool satellite terrain video of the run from Relive.cc 

I first did the SJS50 two years ago. Here's the link to that recap. This is the first ultra trail race that I'm repeating. Being familiar with the course helped with my confidence.

Here's how my second go at the SJS50 played out.

All in all, things went pretty smoothly and I was generally pleased with how I performed and that I can say it was a fun race. A really cool thing is that Jennifer and I knew so many more people compared to last time. I got to run and hang out with some of my friends who I am very happy to say, I kind of kept up with for more than half the race! In the end, I finished about 30 minutes ahead of my 2015 time.

Pre-Race Briefing

So, race prep...Jennifer is the ultimate in making sure I'm ready. As always.

Jennifer prepping all my supplies

It was great being able to do my early-season training out on the red dirt in the desert of Western Colorado until late May. Then had a solid 4 weeks back at 9000'+ in the mountains to get re-acclimated to the altitude. Important, since the SJS50 course spends a lot of time over 10,000' up on the Continental Divide. I put some pictures and videos from my training into this album.

The race went well. I was pretty close or ahead of most of my estimated times coming into aid stations, I stayed hydrated (it was pretty hot) and ate enough. No foot issues. Only blisters were on my hands from using poles. I used them quite a bit from 16 miles on. I need to make sure to tape my hands next time I'm planning on using them that much.

As usual, there were some snow fields to negotiate, but I found them less annoying than in 2015.

I met Anna Frost, the winner of the last two Hardrock 100s, one of the first two female Nolan's 14 finishers and overall mountain-ultra-trail running star. Very sweet and great Kiwi accent. Big Fan. AND she remembered my name during the San Juan Solstice 50 Mile Run the next day!

I climbed extremely well, which is important on this course which has about 12,900' total ascent (the Strava # is off). Problem was, most of the people I passed on the ascents caught me on the descents. I was mediocre on the flat and rolling sections and downright slow on the descents. I think it was an issue with my head more than my legs as I've gotten this image of taking a big spill stuck in my head. This is based on experience. Falls hurt!

It's a beautiful course in one of our favorite areas in Colorado.

Another great aspect of the race is that the whole town of Lake City supports it and come out to participate. The proceeds go to the all-volunteer Lake City Emergency Medical Services. It's a fantastic weekend!

THE FINISH! 12 hrs 41 min

Day After Breakfast Picnic and Awards

Next up for me is the inaugural running of the High Lonesome 100 on July 28-29. 

2017 Trail Run Plans

It's been a while since the last post due to a busy winter and some uncertainty about my plans for this coming season.

First a brief recap since my Nolan's attempt last September. I ran very little from November through January. This was a bit longer than usual off-time for me, but I guess I needed a bit of a mental break. I do like to take time off, to let my hunger for running build back up and I believe it's important to give the physical, mental and endocrine systems the opportunity to rest and regenerate. This is also the first year that Jennifer and I have been splitting our time between the High Rocky Mountains, where we will spend our summers and the desert and canyon lands of Western Colorado, where we'll spend our winters. So, a lot of work went into getting our new desert home up and functioning. The other big event was Jennifer's foot surgery in April to remove a fractured sesamoid bone in her foot. She had spent the better part of 2016 trying to rehab it, but in the end, it was determined that the best course of action, with the highest probability of full and less painful functioning that will allow her to return to all of the high intensity outdoor activities she so loves would be surgery to remove the compromised bone. I'm extremely happy to report that she took her first bike rides this past weekend, 7 weeks out from surgery!

One of the reasons we're spending our winters in the desert at 4500' elevation, vs. 9200' in the mountains is so we'll be able to hike, bike, run and train without much snow for just about the entire year. So, I was able to run on dirt starting in mid-February, steadily upping my mileage in the subsequent months. If you're interested, please feel free to connect with me on Strava.
So, my plan for this season is the following:

• San Juan Solstice 50 Mile Run on June 24. I ran this in 2015 and this will be the first trail race that I'm doing more than once. It's a gorgeous loop course with close to 13,000' gross ascent, a lot of time spent above 10,000' (so acclimatization is important) and a great small mountain town vibe, wonderfully supported by the host town of Lake City, CO.
• High Lonesome 100 on July 28. This is the inaugural running of this event. It promises to be an interesting and scenic course in the southern Sawatch Mountain Range. This will be my second 100 mile run after last year's Bighorn 100.
• Spend time exploring the back country with Jennifer and our dogs Bella and Penny.
• Possibly make another attempt at Nolan's 14 over the Labor Day long weekend. This is dependent on a combination of time availability to scout the line, share time in the mountains with Jennifer, work commitments and my physical and mental state at the tail-end of the season. 

So, there you have it. I'm so fortunate to have the support and advice of my wife/coach in all of these adventures and to get to experience so many amazingly beautiful places along the way. Here's an album of some of my experience these past few months.

I understand the San Juan Solstice is going to offer live GPS tracking. I'll try to put up a post with the info prior to the start, but if I can't I'll definitely put up a post-race recap.

'Till then...

Sad News from Nepal

Started today with tragic news from Nepal. Our friend Lakpa Thundu Sherpa lost his life guiding on Ama Dablam when a 5.4 earthquake stuck as the team was pushing for the summit. The earthquake triggered an avalanche and Thundu was struck in the head with falling ice.

Jennifer and I spent the better part of April 2015 with Thundu trekking in the Khumbu Valley and climbing a couple of peaks. His skill in the mountains earned our implicit trust very quickly and his kindness and thougtfulness left a permanent impression. I'm proud that he called me his friend and I the same. Since our time together in 2015, we've kept in touch via with regular Facebook direct messages, where he'd always start by asking, "Jennifer/John how are you?". Sometimes we'd chat a bit about goings on in our lives. Other times, we did little more than exchange these basic pleasantries or recent photos, but we were always touched by his consistent outreach that let us know we were in his thoughts.
After learning of his passing this morning, I turned on my PC and this was my desktop background from my rotating set of photos. Thundu on the left and me in the center wearing the jacket that Thundu borrowed for me from a friend in his home village of Pangboche.

Summit of Lobuche East - Thundu on left

Thundu, you were a special person who made the world a better place. Whenever Jennifer and I talked about returning to Nepal, teaming up with you for some more adventures always came up. We will miss you, my friend.
If you would like to help (no amount is too small) Thundu's wife and two young sons in Kathmandu, you can by donating to the Juniper Fund. Their program provides relief funds to his family for five years after this accident as well as vocational training and business grants to widows to get them back on their feet. The Juniper Fund works on the ground with these families.

Place the name "Lakpa Thundu Sherpa" in the reference field of the donation page to indicate your donation is directed to this accident and family.

Thundu, Bandi and the boys, Sajan (14) and Dorji (8)

Use the link below or use donate button on the Juniper Fund's Facebook page.

http://www.thejuniperfund.org/donate/
https://www.facebook.com/thejuniperfund/
- Thank you -

Nolan's 7 - Sept 2-3, 2016

Despite the fact that I had no plans to give Nolan's 14 a try before 2017, if at all, Jennifer had started suggesting that I should consider giving it a go this year, since I'd connected with a great group this summer with whom I'd scouted a large portion of the route. After all the effort she'd put into my races earlier in the season, I had told her the rest of the summer season was for doing whatever she wanted. She had heard me talk about Nolan's for awhile (from the initial "That is crazy!" to the pondering "I wonder if I could....") and knew coming off my races and scouting that I was in the right physical shape, and she saw the opportunity for me to give this project I'd been thinking about a Go. So, the first weekend in September, I found myself toeing the line for a North to South attempt on the legendary line connecting fourteen 14,000' mountain peaks.

Jenn (and Bella) Organizing All My Food Options

Bella and Penny Guarding the Gear...well, kind of

In the month that's passed since my attempt to complete the Nolan's 14 line over fourteen 14,000' mountains in the Sawatch Range of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado in a single push under 60 hours, I've accepted that what I did accomplish -- 7 summits in ~30 hours, covering around 50 miles and total ascent of 23,000' -- was a significant accomplishment. But, it wasn't what I had set out to do, and as difficult as it is to admit, in retrospect I still had some more to give to this effort. Physically, anyway.

The rain began to fall just as our group of 6 headed out on the trail from the Fish Hatchery Trailhead on the outskirts of Leadville just after 5:00 am on September 2.

The Starting Six L-R: Brandt, Robbie, Julian, Me, Erik, Adam

The rain turned to snow as we climbed the northeast flanks of Mt. Massive, but we made it to the cold and windy summit at 8:00 am in just under 3 hours. Not bad. 

Here's Adam's video from the summit of Mt. Massive

The View of Massive from Below the Clouds

Descending the southwest slopes on-trail was uneventful and by 10:15 am, we were heading up the steep west ridge of Mt. Elbert, the highest peak in Colorado at 14,433'. Steep off-trail ascents and descents of these mountains is commonplace in Nolan's, but this is one of the burliest, climbing 3000' in about 0.9 mile. By this point, it was just Julian, Brandt and me, as Robbie had turned around after Massive, and Adam and Erik were blazing ahead of us in the rain on a parallel ridge up Elbert. At 11:50 am, we stood on the summit, hit the appropriate buttons on our DeLorme and Spot beacons to alert our crews and followers that we'd summited peak #2 and were quickly off into the cold, light rain, following Erik and Adam's fresh footprints in the snow.

Despite the wet beginning, things were going according to plan. The off-trail descent traversing below Bull Hill, through the Golden Fleece Mine ruins and eventually on to the 2 mile road run on Rt. 82 went without a hitch. At 2:30 pm we jogged into the La Plata Trailhead to the encouraging cheers of our crews. 

Brandt and Me at the La Plata Tralhead

At this point, I guess it wasn't feeling too much different than an ultra-marathon, which can be approached as a run/hike between known aid stations, albeit, these were a bit farther apart. I'd also see Jennifer again pretty quickly, after one more climb up and down 14,336' La Plata Peak. As usual, Jennifer led me to the spot she had prepared for me, refreshed the food/water/gear in my pack, changed my shoes and socks, and got food and liquids into me for about 15 minutes and then the three of us were off, down the road to the trail up and down La Plata Peak.

Julian, Brandt and I heading out toward La Plata Peak

It was steep, but at least it was on trail, so we could turn our brains off for a while. Feeling good and in dry weather, we reached the La Plata summit at 5:20 pm and quickly began the talus hopping down the other side of the summit, hoping we could make it to the next aid at the ghost town of Winfield without headlamps, which we did just before 7:30pm. This was the turning point for me.

Crews at Winfield awaiting our arrival - Photo: Brad Olwin

Jogging into Winfield Aid

Coming into an aid station and seeing Jennifer always lifts my spirits, but leaving can be tough, especially when I'm having problems or knowing the next section is especially difficult. In this case, I came in feeling strong and confident and in the space of the 25 minutes I sat there, eating soup and pasta, drinking my Coke and Red Bull, and changing shoes and socks, my mood and outlook began to mirror the increasing darkness of early night. 

Prepping for a long overnight push - Photo: Brad Olwin

I knew that between Winfield and the next aid were 7 big mountains, 24+ hours and a long night. I was emotional as I shouldered my bigger pack and complained how heavy it was and Jenn immediately took it and removed some things to lighten the load a bit. It felt lighter, but my spirits didn't. Jenn walked with me down the road for a while and encouraged me.

Heading out of Winfield and into the Night

When I left her, I struggled to keep up with Julian and Brandt. I'd run up to them and before I knew it, they'd once again be 50 feet ahead. This continued on the road and on the climb up Mt. Huron. I stayed close, but it got in my head and got me concerned about being able to eat and drink enough while in such a constant rush just to keep up. One of the things I've learned is to do everything possible not to get in a caloric or hydration deficit in these long endeavors. Once you do, it's often impossible to catch back up. At the summit of Mt. Huron at 10:30 pm we met up with Adam and the four of us worked our way down the steep, loose, nasty east gully, boulder-hopped at the runout and followed Julian on the tricky route-finding to the faint trail that brought us down to Chlohesy Lake, where we'd find the trail up Mt. Missouri. Struggling to keep up the pace, I began to worry that I was falling behind on my calorie consumption, but I did stop to do a quick fill of my hydration bladder in a stream early on ascent of Missouri. I knew I would need it, as we'd be up high for the next 3 mountains, with no water access. The full 2 liters felt heavy on my back as we continued to climb.

Sometime between 2:00-2:30 am and about 500' below the summit of Missouri, Adam and I stopped to rest and we lost Julian and Brandt. Adam was no longer able to keep food down and told me to go on. I was now on my own. It was a pitch dark night with no moon, so fortunately I had a trail to follow, for the most part, and I got to summit of Missouri a little after 3:00 am. It was cold and windy, but not that bad, considering I was at over 14,000' at the coldest part of the day. After some indecision on which route to take over to Mt. Belford, I decided to take the safe, but longer route, descending down into Missouri Gulch, then re-ascending to Elk Pass and up to the summit of Mt. Belford, which I reached just before the red ribbon of sunrise lit up the horizon to begin Day 2 at about 5:50 am. There I stopped, put on every clothing layer I had, as the temp seemed to drop very suddenly, and ate and drank. I then proceeded off down the mountain in the wrong direction for about 10 minutes. Fortunately, it was getting light, otherwise who knows how long I would have gone before realizing my navigation error. 

Once I got back to the Belford summit for the second time, it was a quick trip over to Mt. Oxford...peak #7 and as it turned out, the last one for me on this excursion. By the time I got to Mt. Oxford at about 7:15 am, the solo decision-making and physical and mental (more mental in retrospect) exhaustion was taking its toll on my tired brain. The photo below from a route scouting hike in August is the view ahead, coming off Mt. Oxford, down into the Pine Creek basin, and Mt. Harvard ahead and is typical of what Nolan's 14 doles out...
...climb big mountain...
...big descent...
...climb big mountain...
...descent...
...repeat...and so on.
It wasn't this view that got me thinking about if and where I might bail, but the knowledge that after Harvard, there were two more mountains with big and rough ascents and descents and probably about another 12-14 hours before I'd get to the next aid and see Jenn again.

The Descent off Mt. Oxford into the Pine Creek Basin with Mt. Harvard Next

Looking back at my GPS track, I now realize that I actually made respectable time navigating my way off the mountain into the remote Pine Creek basin, but it didn't feel that way at the time. I began to feel that I was wasting way too much time stopping repeatedly to check my GPS and maps, changing clothing layering, eating, drinking, tightening my shoe laces and various gear-fiddling. I started irrationally trying to think of ways to contact Jennifer to discuss my situation. I had an old cell phone, which I was using as a music player. I knew it wasn't connected to any cell network, not that I was within many miles of connectivity anyway. Then I figured for a moment that I could send her an email over wifi. What the hell was I thinking? Was there was a Starbucks nearby?! Was I in any shape to be making serious decisions in the mountains thinking stuff like this? I suppose this is the beginning of delirium.

I was having thoughts of quitting in that beautiful, but No Man's Land of Pine Creek Basin. It's probably one of the worst places to consider bailing, and that's saying a lot on a route with a lot of bad options to bail. Reversing course for a 3000' climb back up Mt. Oxford, then back to Belford and down that mountain makes no sense. The hike out along the gentle terrain of the Pine Creek Trail is 10 miles, and the prospect of climbing up Mt. Harvard and onward, either out the Hornfork Basin or up and over Mts. Columbia and Yale was quickly starting to seem insurmountable to me. 

The day was warming up and I was literally in the middle of nowhere, so I made the smart choice to continue toward Mt. Harvard by crossing Pine Creek and start picking my way through the thick trees and deadfall at the base of the mountain at 9:30 am. In 30 minutes (it felt like 2 hours), I'd made it to treeline and stopped to access the route, my condition and the weather. There were dark clouds coming over the ridges to the west and approaching. Then I made the rash poor decision that it would not be smart, moving as slowly as I thought I was, to be ascending the third-highest mountain in Colorado with questionable weather approaching. So, I made the final decision to turn around and call it quits right there, 29 hours, 52 miles and 23,000' total ascent into my attempt at Nolan's 14 and begin the 10 mile walk of shame out via the Pine Creek Trail.

Elevation over distance. Blue line end of the road this time.

About an hour from the trailhead, Jennifer, who had been watching my movements from my Spot beacon met me on the trail.

The End

So happy to see her, but more than a little ashamed to be meeting her here, rather than at the next aid meet-up. She valiantly tried to talk sense into me to turn around and keep going. There was still plenty of time, she told me, I looked strong she told me, the weather was beautiful she told me, I can go back and get Mt. Harvard and then decide if I could get others she told me. I was having none of it. I was done and that was that.

I have regrets. I try to avoid regrets. I have come to grips with the fact that I just was not mentally prepared for the combination of challenges it presented. I've spent a decade gaining experience being in the mountains, I've dealt with route-finding, I've managed pain in ultra-marathons, I am well acclimatized to altitude, I'm fit. But the combination of all of these things at once, along with the fact that I've never felt what it's like doing a single push of more than 30 hours and being alone with no aid for many many many hours and miles over difficult terrain and having to make all decisions solo, while being mentally exhausted was too much on this day.

I should have laid down in the woods at the base of Mt. Harvard and taken a 30-45 minute nap. Upon awakening, I would have seen that the weather threat had passed and maybe I would have felt just refreshed enough to push on. Lesson learned.

Nolan's 14 is more like an adventure race than an ultra-marathon. In an ultra-marathon, the course is generally well marked, on trails of some sort and laid out for you. A prepared competitor is very familiar with the course, but there's generally not much in the way of route-finding. There are also well-stocked aid stations every 7-10 miles. When you run into pain, you have to deal with that and not a whole lot more. In something like Nolan's you're on your own for long periods of time, most of the time not on trails and often you're alone deep in the mountains. Although there are a lot of similarities, there are very meaningful differences in the combination of challenges that need to be dealt with. Lesson learned.

I'm fairly certain I'd like to give it another shot. Stay tuned.

Huge thanks to Jennifer for encouraging me to try this and investing so much of her time and effort to support my attempt and all that goes into prepping for it for months, to Julian Smith for teaching me what he's learned in his experience on Nolan's, and to Lisa Smith for driving us to trailheads on scouting treks and for gathering us up at the other end.

Nolan's 14 Charitable Cause

Nolan's Charitable Cause Opportunity

I will be donating $15 for each peak that I summit to the Colorado 14ers Initiative.
The Colorado Fourteeners Initiative is a non-profit organization whose mission is to protect and preserve the natural integrity of Colorado's fourteen thousand foot peaks through active stewardship and public education.

If you'd also like to support the effort with a donation for each peak I successfully summit on my Nolan's 14 attempt (even $1 or $2 a peak, would be helpful to maintain these beautiful natural environments) please dontate thru their website link.

Thank you for considering this.

Nolan's 14

This Friday at 5:00 am MT John starts his attempt on Nolan’s 14. This one is not a race, nor an organized event. Nolan’s 14 is a “run” over 14 peaks over 14,000 feet in Colorado’s Sawatch range, from Mt. Massive to Mt. Shavano in either direction (dreamt up in the late 90’s by Jim Nolan, Blake Wood, Fred Vance in response to the question “How many 14ers could you put in a point-to-point 100-mile course?”).

Elevation over distance profile for Nolan's 14

  

You can choose your own route between summits, most routes are around 100ish miles with 44,000 ft. of climb and descent. There is no defined route; just the start, finish, and 14 summits. Most of the course is between 10k and 14k feet except where it drops down to 9k' for about 5 miles. There are a lot of miles above treeline and much of the course is navigating off-trail travel. There will be 2 full nights on the course. Sleep is unlikely, though a couple of 30 minute catnaps may happen along the way if necessary. Cutoff is 60 hours to the last summit, that’ll be Sunday at 5:00 pm MT for John. Only 16 people have ever completed the route in 60 hours, approximately a 15% finish rate. Check out the site here: http://mattmahoney.net/nolans14/
Also a couple good articles:
January 2015 National Geographic
September 2014 Outside Magazine

I’m so proud of him. This is a big one. He’s got the backcountry skills, the endurance skills, and the fitness to pull this off. It’s bound to be an interesting (and strange at times) adventure. Go Get It John, we’re all cheering for you!

So, as you’re firing up the grill, hanging at the beach, or enjoying some cold ones this Labor Day weekend, send him some love and energy (and then the next day too! and then the following day as well!). It’s gonna be a long one! You can follow along on his Spot device here: http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0ztH6ORckq5cGu8XlGfYOyC5nn6enHVEP

John will also be supporting the Colorado 14ers Initiative. If you'd also like to help, please click here for more information.

#nolans14 #n14 #sawatch #colorado #gogetitjohn

Bighorn 100 Recap - June 2016

A more appropriate title for this post could be The Ecstasy of a Beatdown, which I lifted from the most recent issue of the American Alpine Club's annual journal.  It's the title of a short trip report of one of the AAC's members recounting his attempted traverse of a portion of the Brooks Range in Alaska. The title and this excerpt connected with me:
"This trip was the hardest thing we have ever done. And it was also the greatest thing we have ever done. It took us some time to realize those two ideas are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they are often synonymous, even if it's hard to see that when things go sour."

This post will end up on the long side, but hey, there's a lot to cover in 100 miles! This is my way of fully processing the experience, so I hope you can bear with me.

On June 17 and 18th, I competed in my first 100 mile foot race. I'd like to say it was a logical progression, having completed multiple Ironman distance triathlons, 50 milers and a 100 km race, but I'm anticipating the comments informing me that there is nothing logical about attempting to run 100 miles. The best I can offer is what I wrote a few months ago about why I'm drawn to these challenges.

The Bighorn 100 is run in the Bighorn National Forest in northern Wyoming each June. It starts and ends in the small town of Dayton, however a lot of the activities around the race like pre-race check-in and dinner, and post-race pancake breakfast and awards ceremony are held in the larger town of Sheridan, about 20 minutes away. Jennifer and I camped on the lawn of the Dayton Community Center and had access to the facilities of the center. It was the right decision, rather than getting a hotel in Sheridan. Dayton is a lovely town and the people were, without exception, extremely warm and welcoming. We love these races in small towns where it seems like the whole town is involved and welcome you with open arms. I bet these people are like this all the time to everyone.

Dayton, WY Hospitality

The 100 mile course is an out and back. 48 miles to the turnaround point, then go back the way you came, pass the start and go an additional five miles into the finish in the town park in Dayton. The 11:00 am start time is different, as most races start very early in the morning. Personally, I like it...it's warm at the start, so you're pretty much dressed for the day, no 3am wake-up and theoretically you're fresher going into the night, as it comes sooner.

My Course Cheat Sheet Mashup: Elevation Graph with Aid Stations and Estimated & Actual Times

The Lead Up

I'm sure there are some people who just show up to these events and go, but that's generally not the case with these long-distance challenges. Of course, there are months of physical training that are absolutely required, but there is also a litany of other preparations that have to occur in order to be appropriately prepared to run and support a runner in a 100 mile race.

Jennifer started over a month out by researching the right USGS Quadrangle maps to order. Easier said than done, as she had to reach out to multiple Park Rangers around the Bighorn forest, but she finally found a fellow maps guru who pointed her in the right direction. Once received, she spent hours drawing the course and charting her car route to access all of the crewable aid stations on these detailed topographical maps.

Wife Coach, Lead Planner, Energy Food Chef, Crew Chief AND Cartographer

Then, in the week leading up to the race, the big organizational and packing activities go into high gear. Food, clothing, drop bags, crew bags, estimated times between aid stations, travel routes all have to be figured out and Jennifer takes on the brunt of those responsibilities for me. It's also the week where I am making an effort to get as much rest as possible. Jenn was always on the lookout for foods that would be appealing to me, even in later stages of the race, when it can get very difficult to eat and I'm done with sweet stuff. Fritos and Pringles are a standby, along with some homemade energy bars, and new this race were Sour Patch Kids. Whatever it takes to get calories in.

Race food (not one gel)

I'll burn somewhere on the order of 18,000 calories over the course of the race, so fueling is critical. Interestingly, we're looking for foods that are the direct opposite of what we want to eat in daily life. We want foods that are calorically dense, so they come in a small, easy to carry and consume size and don't fill you up. Justin's Nut Butter packets are just about perfect and I was able to down many of them this race.

We drove the 500 miles to Dayton, WY on Wednesday to make sure we had a relaxed couple days. It also gave us time do dry runs to the Start and two of the three aid stations where Jenn would see me five times throughout the race, as well as do some sightseeing along the way. It's a beautiful area!

Visiting the site of the Dry Fork Aid Station

Purple Haze in the High Alpine

All Quiet at the Start Line the Day Before

 

Race Start to Dry Fork Aid 1: Miles 0-13.5

We drove to the race start on a dirt road alongside the Tongue River at about 10:00 for the 11:00am start. It was crowded with 318 starters, plus all of their family, friends and crew.

We Are Ready

100 milers generally require a pretty experienced field, so there wasn't too much in the way of extraneous high energy at the start line and right at 11:00, we started on this beautiful day.

Minutes Before the Start

Amazingly I Didn't Get Tripped Up

And We're Off...Up Into the Canyon

After a little over a mile on the dirt road, we get onto a single track trail that will take us up 3500' in the first 6 miles. It's a long climb, but climbing is my strength. About 5 miles in, I had my first concern of the day...a hot spot on the back of my right ankle. I don't generally have blister problems, so I let it go for a few minutes, but it didn't improve. So I stepped off the trail and sat down in the brush to tighten my shoe, hoping for a quick fix. It wasn't to be. So I stepped off the trail again, took off my pack and got out some anti-blister lube, took off my gaiter and shoe and saw that the skin had already started to blister. I applied lube, redressed and was off again, trying not to worry about this issue which I'd somehow have to manage over the next 95 miles.

At mile 8.5, there is an aid station, where I topped off my water, grabbed some watermelon and for the first time in my racing experience, but not the last time in this race, checked in with the medic. Fortunately, he had duct tape and Vaseline, which he applied to my blistered right ankle and sent me off with smiles and well wishes. This was just the beginning of my challenges, but fortunately things didn't get much worse, at least as far as I was aware, for many miles and hours.

With the first big climb done, we had a short steep descent to some generally rolling terrain that was largely runnable. I spent a good amount of this section running with a 51 year-old Army Colonel and veteran of many ultra marathon races. He took the patient approach all day and ended up finishing in an impressive 28 hours, which he had predicted. This guy's seen a lot as a medic in Iraq during heavy combat and I learned all I could from his approach to this race and it helped the miles pass by for a while. He also utilized his Army Colonel voice to yell at me when I missed a turn when I was about 100 feet ahead of him. Thank You Sir!! Soon enough, though my mind was on getting to mile 13.5 and the Dry Fork aid station, where I'd see Jennifer.

Crew Chief Tracker

This was also the beginning of Jennifer's ultra marathon of crewing, 31 hours straight. From the start, it was about a 38 mile and 1.5 hour drive to the Dry Fork aid station.

Dry Fork Aid 1 to Footbridge Aid 1: Miles 13.5-30

I reached Jennifer at Dry Fork in about 3 hours, which was about 30 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate and feeling good, except for the concern about my blister. It was a quick, maybe 3 minute stop to take in a some food and down a Coke and get moving down the Dry Fork drainage about 1000'.

Dry Fork Aid Station

Raising the Roof Coming In to Dry Fork

About 4 miles out of Dry Fork, I ran into a bit of gastro-intestinal "instability" which slowed me down for maybe an hour, but I was then able to regain my pace on the rolling, then generally descending route to the next major aid station, Footbridge.

Crew Chief Tracker
Next, Jennifer had to drive all the way back the way she came and then go north, actually getting into Montana for a few miles, before heading down a moderately rough 4WD road with a couple of minor stream crossings, then walk about 3/4 of a mile to the Footbridge aid station with all my supplies in tow.
This segment: 80 miles, 2 hours

Footbridge to Jaws Aid Turnaround: Miles 30-48

I arrived at Footbridge to Jennifer cheering me on at about 5:50pm, 20 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate and feeling strong, but still a little concerned about my blister.

Coming In Strong to Footbridge Aid

One of the top priorities I had coming into this race was to approach it as an eating and drinking contest and stay as well fueled and hydrated as possible. I carried a 2 liter water bladder in my race vest and I topped it off at almost every one of the 28 aid stations on the course. I also took an electrolyte capsule every hour to replace salts lost from sweat. It was a hot race, with very little cloud cover and daytime temps in the 80s and maybe hitting 90 on Saturday.

I was also eating something just about any time I thought about it. This is critical in any race more than a couple hours, and more critical the longer you go. Based on physiological testing I had done back in March at CU Boulder, I knew that I'd be burning around 600 to 800+ calories per hour of almost an even distribution of fat and carbohydrates. Also knowing that the body can only metabolize about 300 calories of carbohydrates an hour, I'd barely be keeping up on the carb front and I was relying on burning internal fat stores, as well.

My Fat and Carb Oxidation Profile at Increasing Heart Rates

I also wore my heart rate monitor for most of the race to make sure I stayed mostly in my sweet spot at or below 151 beats per minute. This is where my fat burn is maximized - represented by the purple bars in the above graph. Important, because even lean people have 10s of thousands of calories in fat stores...might as well make use of them. Bottom line is I needed to eat, and I ate.

I spent 17 minutes at Footbridge, mostly to get medical attention on my blister, eat and drink what Jennifer offered me, switch packs to one with more capacity for extra clothes as nighttime approached, don my headlamp and finally, grab my hiking poles, which I'd use for the remainder of the race.

Footbridge is also where a lot of people drop. Of the 318 starters, 86 (27%) had dropped by this point and of these, around 45 of them had come into Footbridge but did not continue.

The next segment is an 18 mile, 5000' ascent up to the Jaws (also known as Porcupine) Aid Station at about 9000' elevation is generally considered the crux of the route. My trip to Jaws went as well as I could have hoped. My newly re-patched blister wasn't too painful, I didn't hit much in the way of mud or water until just before Jaws and the thunderstorm that passed very close only spit graupel and some big raindrops on me for a few minutes around 9pm. Plus it stayed warm enough for me to stay in short sleeves and no gloves. Sunset was glorious in this wilderness and amplified by the repeated lightning in the clouds from the departing storm.

Jenn's view of the sunset storm on her way from Footbridge to Jaws

I made every effort to not get lost in my own bubble and look around at my surroundings as much as possible, even after things got bad. My headlamp went on at about 9:45pm and I rolled into the Jaws Aid tent at around 11:17pm, 10 minutes ahead of my optimistic estimate.

Maybe a little delirious, but apparently happy arriving at Jaws Aid

Looking at this picture now and how I was standing, it's apparent that I was starting to feel some discomfort in my right ankle, but it wasn't a serious concern at the time. It wouldn't be long before it got my full attention.

Coming into major aid stations in the middle of the night is a surreal experience. After spending hours in the dark, with just a headlamp to light the way and generally alone, you come into an area with lots of activity and energy and comforts, like your very own folding chair! The aid was set up in a big (probably 20' x 50') tent, like what they set up at outdoor weddings in case it rains. There are heaters and hot food and it's jam-packed with competitors in various states (some on cots and wrapped in thermal blankets), crew people and volunteers. It's a big blur coming in, but Jenn just grabbed me by the hand and led me through the crowded tent to the little spot she made for me and gave me a Coke and laid out the food choices. Pringles were good, I had half an avocado, probably some candy and I ate half my tofurkey, Swiss and mustard wrap while we spoke. I do remember rolling my left ankle around a bit, as I was starting to realize it was a bit sore and stiff. I figured I landed awkwardly on it at some point. It's inevitable.

One of the volunteers made a point of telling me that he had been observing Jennifer's preparations for me to arrive with awe. He'd never seen a more organized and comprehensive crewing display. Man, I look forward to seeing her during these races!

My wife coach ready to send me back out into the night

At about 11:38pm, after 21 minutes in the aid station, I headed out to begin the second half of the race by descending the 5000' back to Footbridge. I was feeling confident heading out. I felt I had been smart with my pace, fueling and hydration the first half and was feeling good...until I hit the descent.

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 93 miles, 2.5 hours

Jaws to Footbridge 2 Aid: Miles 48-66

This is where things really went sideways on me. As soon as I began descending, I felt the pain above my right ankle with every step. What I'd hoped would be a faster 18 miles down than up, ended up being much slower. There was no running on any downward-sloping terrain and in the dark I caught many rocks with my foot, inducing a painful strain on my injury. And there seemed to be way more rocks on the way down than I noticed on the way up. It was a pretty full moon night though, and I tried to soak it in as much as I could. Being out in the middle of this wilderness in the middle of the night is a special experience.

In the hours I had to think, I was wondering how I was going to continue with the ankle getting worse and worse and with very painful blisters forming on my left foot due to the change in my gate from my injury.

Footbridge Aid at night - You can see the headlamp of an arriving runner in the middle

I finally hobbled into Footbridge at about 5:45am in a much different state than I had almost 12 hours prior.

Arriving at Footboridge 2 - Pained & Concerned

At this point, I was a little more than an hour and a quarter behind my optimistic projection, but still almost an hour ahead of my conservative estimate. Jennifer suspected something was wrong, as she had been expecting me for a while and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw my face. No more raising the roof from here on out. In the 46 minutes I spent in this aid station, the medic drained and bandaged several blisters on my left foot and took a look at my ankle, while Jenn tended to my other needs, like getting me a amazing freshly made Egg McMuffin (hold the Canadian Bacon), a nut butter, a cup of hot coffee and a Red Bull. I also changed into fresh socks, calf sleeves, shoes and shirt. Jenn also worked on getting my emotions pointed back in a positive direction. At this point, I didn't understand what was going on with my ankle and I had become disappointed at the idea that perhaps I had fatigued some important muscles by not running a smart strategy.

This was the most critical juncture for me as it required some thinking about whether was smart to proceed from an injury perspective, or drop. I had plenty of time to finish within the 34 hour limit and my ankle and blister problems, although very painful, were not likely a threat to my long-term health. So I don't think I seriously considered dropping, but I know I didn't have a clear vision of how I was going to be able to get through the next 36 miles. Lesson One of any endurance activity is not to get ahead of yourself, be in the moment and literally take one step at a time. I also thought about how much time and effort I'd put into getting to this point and how shitty I'd feel in the car driving out from that aid station, having given up. At 6:30am, armed with fresh shoes, socks and calf sleeves, patched up feet, my music and a fresh resolve, I headed out.

Embarking on an Uncertain Journey

Crew Chief Tracker

This segment: 93 miles 2.5 hours 
It's worthwhile noting that there was only one other crew person in addition to Jennifer who met her runner at every aid station, including twice at the remote Footbridge Aid. My crew chief rocks!

 

Footbridge 2 to Dry Fork 2: Miles 66-84.5

The good news for me coming out of Footbridge 2 is that there is an immediate 2500' climb, which allowed me to get back into a less painful movement and make relatively good time for a few hours. The methodical pace of climbing also gave me time to collect my thoughts, tap into positive energy from my music and the people sending me their love and support. I knew there were some big downhills coming, but I'd take them on as they came. For this section, I'd just enjoy the time powering uphill.

I actually passed several competitors on these uphills, but the downhills were increasingly painful, both from my right ankle and from the blisters which were continuing to take over all parts of my left foot. About halfway through this segment, the 100 mile course joins up with the 18 and 32 mile courses, which were being run that Saturday, so those competitors started intermingling with us. It was good to have more distractions and many of them said very nice things as they passed by or ran/walked with me, understanding that we were a long way into our race experience by that time.

By this time there was no more passing people for me. I was getting repeatedly passed by other 100 milers and also leaders of the 50 mile race, which began at Jaws at 6:00am, when I was 18 miles ahead at Footbridge.

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 80 miles, 2.5 hours

Dry Fork 2 to The Finish: Miles 84.5-100

I arrived at Dry Fork 2 at around noon on Saturday. It was crowded with competitors from all four distances using the aid station this go-round, but of course, Jennifer had a seat waiting for me with my supplies laid out next to it. When I vacated it for a few minutes to visit the port-o-john, another competitor had taken my seat and when Jennifer told him the seat was taken his snide remark about having to make reservations was not taken to kindly by Jennifer and he found another seat. It's best not to cross her when she's looking after me!

Hobbled but Happy to be Arriving at Dry Fork 2

Not that it mattered anymore, but I was now 10 minutes later than my conservative time estimate. After 27 minutes of of eating, drinking and getting my ankle looked at by the medic, I was off on the final 15.5 mile segment of the race.

Embarking on the Final Segment

I was able to trot along the dirt road, which was flat to gently ascending for a couple of miles. My spirits were buoyed by the knowledge that I was still 4+ hours ahead of the time cutoffs, so I almost certainly was going to finish my first 100 mile race, but I still had a long way to go. I wasn't eating much at this point, other than some energy chomps, but knew I was burning less calories with my slower pace and felt confident I would not bonk. Hydration remained a top priority, however, as I was going into the hottest part of the day with no cloud cover and temps getting into the low 90s.

The final descent was brutal. It felt like being in a solar cooker in the descending valley with high ridges on both sides and getting baked by the sun from all sides. At one of the final aid stations before the trailhead and the final road section, in addition to potable water, they were offering dousings with cold Tongue River water. A welcome brief chill that I happily accepted.

At long last, I reached the road, where I'd started about 28 hours ago and Jennifer was waiting on her mountain bike.

Final Few Feet of Trail Before the Road

My intent was to run the road, as much as possible, but my ankle pain and the big blister on the bottom of my left foot was just too painful to do so. Jennifer was tirelessly (she'd been up for almost 36 hours at this point too) trying to divert my attention from the pain with small talk, but it was tough to break through.

Jenn Doing Her Best to Pull Me Along on the Last Five Miles

Slow as it was, each step brought me closer to the finish, but there was one more painful jolt. Just as I was about to enter the park and the finish in Dayton, the huge blister on the bottom of my left foot burst, feeling like my foot had been lit on fire. The new, searing pain was soon forgotten, though, as I saw the Finish!

Yes! 

Final time 30 hours 47 minutes. 106th place of 318 starters and 173 finishers (54% finisher rate).

So Happy to be Finished!

Crew Chief Tracker
This segment: 38 miles, 2.5 hours
Total Crew Chief Miles: 422 miles

Final Thoughts

I'm extremely happy to have finished a 100 mile race in my first attempt. I am proud that I was able to persevere for a long time and not get derailed by several significant problems to accomplish it. A few weeks have allowed it to settle in, and Jennifer and I have debriefed about our separate and shared experiences of the race. We've celebrated and have had emotions well up unexpectedly. It's interesting to me that feelings of wanting to do this again have come back so quickly. I find it hard to explain, but I suspect one reason is that I feel that I left something on the table in this race, due to my injuries. I feel that I prepared well and approached the race with a sound strategy and was disciplined in my execution, but unexpected things happened along the way that slowed me down. At the half way point, I was on a pace for a sub-26 hour finish and feeling very strong and the first half is generally considered the harder part of this race. But then I ran into problems.

In a 100 mile race, there are just so many opportunities for things to go awry. The challenge is how they are dealt with, how you adjust your approach and expectations, and just persevere and keep relentlessly moving forward. Even when things were at their worst, I had enough experience to know that there are ebs and flows of the suck and I could call upon tactics to improve my spirits, even just a little. I managed to smile even when the pain was really bad. I looked around and felt fortunate to be where I was with the freedom to take on this challenge of my own choosing and learn a lot about what I'm really capable of. I chatted with others, learned from them, took the encouragement of the runners in the shorter distances. One woman passed by said she was in awe of us running the 100 and felt like she was running with royalty. An overstatement to be sure, but I got it, as I've been in the exact same position. I was moved and it helped me embrace the pain more and feel energized, proud and kind of badass.

Surely this is TMI for some, but I do want to share the good, bad and in the case, the very ugly of the things I do for those who are interested. So I'll spare those who would rather not be exposed to how gnarly my feet looked by just putting links here. For those who are interested, enjoy this post-race journey of my feet and ankle:

• At the Finish: <photo>, <photo>, <photo>
• +2 days: <photo>, <photo>, <photo>
• +3 days: <photo>, <photo>
• +5 days (3 hours after acupuncture-amazing reduction in swelling): <photo>, <photo>
• Lymph Drainage Kinisiology Tape Job: <photo>

On Thursday after the race, I went to an ankle and foot orthopedist who diagnosed a severe case of tendonitis in my right ankle and he put me in a walking boot for two weeks along with physical therapy, which involved massage to move out the swelling and a prescribed electrically-stimulated topical steroids and no running whatsoever.

Sidelined and Booted

He diagnosed my right ankle injury not as a high ankle sprain, as I had suspected, but as severe tendonitis of the tendons on the front of the ankle that control ankle and toe flexion. Now, two weeks later, this is my hypothesis of what went wrong...
It all started 4.5-5 miles in, with the blister on the back of my right ankle. From that point on, I was purposely trying to minimize heel lift on that foot, thereby putting long-term additional stress on the two tendons running up the front of that ankle that control lifting the foot and the toes. That led to the tendonitis. The pain of the tendonitis caused a limp ,which put more stress on my left foot, which led to the blisters on that foot. I don't have a clear understanding of what caused the original blister, but it seems that led to all of the other issues.

I generally don't have chafing or blister issues, but in retrospect, some pre-race Body Glide, or even Vaseline on the feet may have eliminated the blister and all of the subsequent problems. No regrets...lesson learned. 

Thank you to everyone who supported me leading up to and during the race and especially to Jennifer, who took on so much to make sure I had EVERYTHING I needed in terms of supplies, guidance and love before, during and after the race. It's a huge burden to take on, but sharing these experiences as a team is maybe the best part.