Race Report: 2018 Lean Horse 100

On August 17-18, I ran the Lean Horse 100.  This race is run on the George S. Mickelson Trail in South Dakota.  I’ve done this race twice before, and I’ve also done the 50 mile race three times.

It’s an out-and-back course.  This race used to start and finish in Hot Springs.  On the old course, we had to run about 15 miles on hilly, dusty dirt roads just to get to the Mickelson Trail.  Then we had to run those same dirt roads at the end of the race.  Four years ago, they moved the start and finish to Custer.  I like the town of Hot Springs, but I was excited about being able to run the entire race on the Mickelson Trail.

The Mickelson Trail is a wide gravel trail that follows an old Burlington Northern railroad line.  It runs north-south through the Black Hills from Deadwood to Edgemont.  Ever since hearing they moved the start/finish to Custer, I’ve wanted to come back and run the new course.  This was the first year I could fit it into my schedule.

In addition to the 100 mile race, they also have 50 mile, 30 mile, and 20 mile races.  The 100 mile race starts at noon on Friday and you have until 6:00 PM on Saturday to finish.  The shorter races all start Saturday morning.

Deb and I combined the race with a short sightseeing vacation in the Black Hills.  We flew to Rapid City Thursday morning and drove the rest of the way to Custer.  Along the way, we drove through Custer State Park, where we drove the wildlife loop.  We saw a few buffaloes, and we also saw some friendly burros.

When we were done at Custer State Park, we continued to Custer to check in at our motel.  I packed my drop bags and got organized for the race, while Deb visited a few shops.  Then we went out to find the painted buffalo statues that were all over town.  Deb and I have a long history of always visiting cities when they have painted statues on display.  It started in 1999 with Cows on Parade in Chicago.  The following year, it was the Big Pig Gig in Cincinnati.  This was Custer’s version.

Next, we went to the Custer YMCA to pick up my race packet and drop off my drop bags.

There used to be a Flintstones campground on the edge of Custer.  My family stayed there once when I was growing up.  Many years later, they added a Bedrock City mock-up.  The campground no longer exists, but most of the Bedrock City buildings are still there.  After packet pickup, we found them and took a few pictures.

We had dinner in town at a sports bar called the Buglin’ Bull.  I had an interesting pizza with buffalo, elk, and pheasant.

Deb had their fresh burst salad.  Besides mixed greens, it included apples, oranges, berries, and candied walnuts.  She liked it so much, she went back there again twice while I was running the race.

I had an awful time getting to sleep that night.  The air conditioner was noisy, and I also had a lot on my mind.  I was still awake for five or six hours before nodding off briefly.  Then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I didn’t need to get up early, so I kept trying to go back to sleep, but without any success.

Deb and I had breakfast at the hotel.  Then Deb left to spend the day shopping and sightseeing in Deadwood, Hill City, and Rapid City.   I spent the morning getting ready for the race.  By the time the race started, I was already feeling a little shaky from the lack of sleep.

I was conflicted about whether to eat anything else before the race started.  I didn’t want to start the race on a full stomach, but I also didn’t want to skip lunch.  I reheated a slice of leftover pizza as a light pre-race lunch.

The race started at the Custer YMCA.  I needed to check in there by 11:45.  It was only a few blocks from the hotel, so I walked.

The first 21 miles and last 21 miles of this course were familiar to me from other races.  I had never seen the middle miles, but I had a pretty good idea what to expect.  The trail surface is the same everywhere.  There are no roots or large rocks, and there aren’t many places where you can make a wrong turn.

I have a map of the entire Mickelson Trail that includes the elevation profile.  The trail often goes uphill or downhill for several miles at a time, but the grade is never steeper than three percent.  The elevation is mostly between 5,000 and 6,000 feet.

The course breaks down into five long uphill sections and five long downhill sections.  I used different pacing strategies on different sections of the trail.

We started outside the YMCA.  We ran on city streets for half a mile before turning onto the trail.  After that, we were on the Mickelson Trail until the last mile.  I was surprised to see that a short section of the trail going through town was paved.  I didn’t remember any paved sections from when I did this race before.

The first five miles on the trail were all uphill.  I had run this section in the uphill direction twice before.  On the old course, these were miles 35-40.  The race used to start at 6:00 AM, so I was used to running this section in the early afternoon.  With the noon start, I was running it at about the same time of day.  There’s isn’t much shade, so it can get hot.  The last time I did this race, it got up to 90 degrees in the afternoon.  This year, it never got out of the 70s.  That helped.  I was able to get by carrying just one water bottle, which cut down on weight.

I didn’t want to go out too fast like I did in the Vermont 100, so I used variable length walking breaks to keep myself on an average pace of 14 minutes per mile.  The Mickelson Trail has concrete mileposts every mile.  I used these to check my pace.

In the early miles, we had views like this.

After five miles, I reached the Mountain Trailhead aid station.  My bottle wasn’t empty yet, so I drank what was left and refilled it.  They had water and Powerade.  I was hesitant to drink Powerade for the whole race, because it’s high in fructose.  Given the choice of Powerade or water, I went with Powerade.  I needed to start taking in Calories.

About a mile past Mountain Trailhead, I had a great view of the Crazy Horse Memorial.  This monument is so large that the faces on Mount Rushmore would fit inside it.  The construction is funded entirely by private donations.  At the rate they’re going, it won’t be finished in my lifetime.

The trail goes through a tunnel underneath the road that leads to the Crazy Horse Memorial.  After going through this tunnel, I started the first long downhill section.

The next 10 miles were downhill, but the grade was gentle.  I could easily have run the whole way without getting tired, but I knew I would beat up my quads.  Here I did much more walking.  Walking downhill was so easy, I found myself going at a fast pace.  Ever since a high hamstring injury in early July, I’ve been hesitant to walk too fast.  I finally got over that fear and really worked on walking at a brisk pace.  On this section, my target pace was 12 minutes per mile.  I was able to do that with only two minutes of running per mile.

About halfway through this section, I reached the Oreville aid station.  Here, I started eating solid food at each aid station.  At first, I just ate PBJs, but eventually, I had other things, like ham and cheese wraps.

I wore gaiters to keep dust and grit from getting into my shoes around the ankles.  That worked pretty good, but dust still got through my shoes around the toe box.  I had a small hole near the front of one shoe and small rocks got in there.  It was annoying, but it wasn’t causing major problems, so I did my best to ignore it.

As we got closer to Hill City, we crossed a bridge over the highway.

There were a number of bridges.  Most of them were over streams, like this one.

The first long downhill section ended at Hill City.  On the old course, this was the turnaround point.  To get to the Hill City aid station, we had to detour off the trail a bit.  This aid station had nice facilities, including bathrooms with running water.

Going through Hill City, we were on a sidewalk.  This is the only part of the Mickelson Trail that doesn’t follow the old rail line.  There’s a railroad museum here, so a section of the old track is still in place.  They also have some old rail cars.

As I left Hill city, I began the second long uphill section.  This section is about eight miles long.  The first six miles of it was familiar to me from the Run Crazy Horse Marathon.  My recollection was that this section was tiring.  It’s worth noting that in that race I was running the whole way.  I once again did a run/walk mix that allowed me to average 14 minutes per mile.  I was walking at such a spirited pace that I only need to run one or two minutes per mile to stay on pace.

Midway through this uphill section, I reached the High Country aid station (20.6 miles).  I’m not sure, but this same location might have been used for an aid station in the Run Crazy Horse Marathon.  It looked familiar.

Even though I was only carrying one bottle, I never ran out between aid stations.  I was getting a little bit hot now, but it wouldn’t be long before the temperature started dropping again.

After a few more miles of uphill running, I began the next downhill section.  I once again adopted a target pace on 12 minutes per mile, but it was still mostly walking.  After about two more miles, I reached the Horse Creek aid station.  This was the first of two aid stations where I had drop bags.

I didn’t know for sure if I would make it to my other drop bag before it got dark, so I got a flashlight from my drop bag and put it in my fanny pack.  While I was here, I took two pills that I normally have with dinner.  One of them dissolved in my mouth.  They had bacon at this aid station, which helped get rid of the bad taste of the pill.

Soon, I reached the first of four tunnels through the mountains.

About 10 minutes later, I reached another tunnel.

I went past some colorful rock formations.  I had never been on this part of the trail before, so I enjoyed the scenery.

At the end of the second long downhill section, I reached the Mystic aid station (30.4 miles).  Then the trail came alongside a stream.  We were following the stream in the downstream direction, so I wondered if the trail would still go downhill.  We quickly left the stream, and the trail turned uphill.

Now I was starting the longest uphill section of the course.  It was uphill almost all the way to the turnaround.  This was a long grind.  The grade was gradual, but … almost 20 miles of uphill running.

To get through this section, I had to focus on just getting to the next aid station.  After Mystic, it was 4.2 more miles to get to the Gimlet Creek aid station.

I ran past more interesting rock formations.  I could have taken dozens of pictures like this.

The third tunnel was preceded by a small bridge.  This tunnel was a bit longer than the first two.  As I went through it, I felt a cold draft.

After going through the tunnel, I came alongside another stream.  It had to be a different one, because I was following this one in the upstream direction.

After Gimlet Creek, it was just 3.6 miles to get to the Rochford aid station, where I had another drop bag.  I knew there was still one more tunnel, but I didn’t know how far it was.  I was hoping to get there before it got dark.  As I saw the sun disappearing behind the hills, I knew I was running out of time.

At the Rochford aid station (38.2 miles), I exchanged my flashlight for a headlamp.  I also got some gloves in case I got cold later.  A volunteer at the aid station confirmed that there was still one more tunnel between here and the turnaround.

As I left the aid station, it started getting dark.  I realized I wouldn’t be able to get a picture of the last tunnel.  Then I realized I forgot to take my camera out of my fanny pack.  I had intended to leave it in my drop bag until I got back to Rochford on the way back.  That was extra weight I didn’t need or want.

I was excited about the new course, because it gave me a chance to see sections of the Mickelson Trail I had never seen before.  Regrettably, I didn’t actually get to “see” much between Rochford and the turnaround.  I ran that in the dark in both directions.

There’s a popular race on this section of the trail called the Deadwood Mickelson Trail Marathon.  It’s a fast course, because it’s mostly downhill.  I was basically running that course in the opposite direction, and it was starting to wear me down.  My walking wasn’t as fast now.  I had a target pace of 14 minutes per mile, but almost half of it was running.  Running uphill was tiring, so it always seemed to take forever to get to the next milepost.

It was 6.1 miles from Rochford to the Nahant aid station.  I started getting cold, so I put on my gloves.  That helped, but my arms and shoulders were still cold.  I had a jacket in my drop bag, but I didn’t think I would need it until I got back to Rochford.  I regretted not taking it with me.

This section was tough, both physically and psychologically.  I was still going uphill, and I was running by myself in the dark.  I felt an icy cold draft.  I wondered if I was near another stream, but I couldn’t hear any water.  A few minutes later, I felt another cold draft.  This time I could hear the water.  I was next to a stream.

I was about seven miles from the turnaround when I saw the first runners coming back the other way.  Within a minute, I saw another runner.  Then there was nobody else for about 20 minutes.

At the Nahant aid station, I noticed they had HEED power, but they didn’t have any mixed up.  I asked them to put a scoop of the power in my bottle and I filled it with water.  I started doing that at every aid station.  It took a few extra minutes, but it’s a more appropriate sports drink for a long race like this. I didn’t want to have digestive problems from too much fructose.

I wasn’t perspiring much, so I wasn’t thirsty.  I cut my fluid intake.  Earlier, I had been taking electrolyte capsules once per hour.  I stopped taking them.

The last few miles before the turnaround were the most tiring.  With about half a mile to go, I reached the top of the hill.  The last half mile before the turn was slightly downhill.  That was a relief.

I reached the turnaround in 10:52.  At first, I was thinking that was my halfway split, but the race starts and finishes in different places.  The distance to the turnaround was about half a mile farther than the remaining distance.  Bearing that in mind, my 50 mile split was three or four minutes faster.

I was pleased with my time for the first half.  My goal was a 24 hour finish, and I was on pace to break 22 hours.  I usually expect to be much slower in the second half of a long ultra, but I was optimistic that I could also make good time in the second half.  The first half was mostly uphill.  The second half would be mostly downhill.  Also, I had mostly been walking on the downhill sections.  In the second half, I would be much more willing to run them.

I thought I could run negative splits, but I was kidding myself.  I didn’t realize how much the first half took out of me.

After the turnaround, it was slightly uphill for about half a mile.  Then I started the longest downhill section.  I walked until the next milepost, which was just a short distance past the start of the downhill.

My plan for this section was to run about half of it.  I didn’t have a target pace.  At first, my plan was to alternate between running a mile and walking a mile.  That way, I didn’t need to read my watch.  I just looked for the mileposts.

When I was going uphill, the mileposts were on my right, so I hugged the right side of the trail.  Now they were on my left.  I tried to stay on the left side of the trail, but I occasionally passed runners who were still going the other way.  I kept right when there was two-way traffic, which made it harder to look for the mileposts.  I was afraid I would miss one, but I never did.

I ran the first full downhill mile.  Then I walked the next one.  I wasn’t happy with my time for that mile, so I switched to a run/walk mix.  At first, I tried to walk the first half and walk the second half.  That was difficult to estimate, so I eventually switched to running for a couple of minutes and then walking for a couple of minutes.  I wasn’t looking at my watch.  I just guessed.

It was the darkest night I’ve ever seen.  The only source of light was my headlamp.  Everything looked different at night.  In the light of my headlamp, the pine trees looked like they were covered with snow or frost.  The movement of the shadows as I went by made me think I was seeing movement in the bushes.

Lack of sleep was getting to me, and I began to hallucinate.  At one point, I thought I saw a small black bear on the trail in front of me.  I came to a stop.  Then I realized it was just am irregularly shaped puddle.  In the dark, the water looked as black as oil.

I was getting colder.  At this hour of the night, it was probably in the upper 50s, but it felt much colder.  I wasn’t moving fast enough to generate any heat.

When I got back to the Nahant aid station, I noticed they had cups of Ramen noodles in broth.  I said, “That looks good, but I don’t think I have room.”  After thinking about it for a minute, I decided to take the time to eat one.  The noodles were just what I needed, and the broth tasted great.

I had six more miles to get back to Rochford, so I could finally get my jacket.  I continued to do a roughly 50/50 mix of running and walking.  For the last four miles, I was intolerably cold.

When I got back to Rochford (62.4 miles), I was finally able to put on my Tyvek jacket.  I continued to wear my headlamp, but I retrieved my flashlight and put it in my fanny pack.  I wanted to take off my headlamp when I got back to Horse Creek, but I expected to need a light after that.

I felt much more comfortable with the jacket.  When I was walking, it felt just right.  When I was running, I got a bit warm, but that was better than freezing.  I adjusted my fluid intake, since I was sweating a bit now.

At Gimlet, I had another cup of Ramen noodles in broth.  It was too hot, so it took me about five minutes to eat it.  They had campfires and folding chairs.  I saw another runner sit down while he ate his noodles.  I resisted the temptation to sit.  I didn’t know if I would be able to get up again.

As I left the aid station, my legs were stiff, and I had to walk for a few minutes before I could run.  This was the last section of downhill.  I usually look forward to completing each section of the trail, but I wasn’t looking forward to going uphill again.

The trail bottomed out near the Mystic aid station (70.2 miles).  To get to the aid station, you need to leave the trail and walk across a dirt road that’s right next to the trail.  As I left the aid station, I mistook the road for the trail.  I walked about a quarter mile in the wrong direction before reaching a fork in the road.  I wasn’t sure which way to go, and I didn’t see any of the familiar Mickelson Trail signs.  In each direction, I saw road signs.  Looking back the way I came, I realized that was also a road.  I had to backtrack to the aid station.  In all, I probably lost 10 minutes.

As I got back to the aid station, I saw another runner leaving, so I followed him to get back on the trail.  His name was Justin, and we walked together for a good portion of the race.  He maintained a brisk walking pace, and I had to work hard to keep up with him.

When I got to the next milepost, I ran for two minutes.  Going uphill, that was as far as I could manage to run.  As I resumed walking, I was slow at first, because I needed to catch my breath.  Justin eventually caught up to me.  Then I picked up my pace to stay with him.

I continued this pattern each time I reached a milepost.  I didn’t ever want to go more than a mile without doing some running.  I worried that if I walked for several miles, I might have a hard time transitioning back to running.

After the first two miles, I switched to only running for one minute at each milepost.   Two minutes was too tiring.

The next aid station was Horse Creek, where I had my other drop bag.  I took off my headlamp, so I wouldn’t have to wear it for the rest of the race.  By now, there was just enough light to see the trail, but I still needed my headlamp to look for the next milepost.

I now had grit in the toe boxes of both shoes.  It was getting increasingly uncomfortable, but I did my best ignore it.  There wasn’t much I could really do about it.  Thankfully, there wasn’t any grit around my heels.  That’s where I’m most prone to developing blisters when I walk.

After two more miles, the trail leveled off, and we began the eight mile descent into Hill City.  Since the beginning of the race, I assumed I would run the whole way.  On the previous downhill sections, I limited my running so I wouldn’t beat up my quads.  Now that I was finally here, I found that I couldn’t run the whole way.  Even running downhill was now tiring.

I ran for a minute or two and then walked for a minute or two.  For the first mile or two, I was doing equal parts running and walking.  By the end of this section, I was only doing a couple minutes of running per mile.  It was now obvious that the second half of the race would be slower than the first half, but I was still hopeful that I could break 24 hours.

Without doing any running, Justin still kept up with me.  I could feel the sun now, so I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist.  That caused me to fall behind, and I couldn’t catch up.  By the time we reached Hill City, Justin was about a minute ahead of me.  At the Hill City aid station, I had my third cup of Ramen noodles.  These ones weren’t in soup broth, and they weren’t as good.  It was just overcooked noodles in starchy water.

Justin and I both took a long time at that aid station, but he left about a minute ahead of me.  We were at the beginning of the last long uphill section, and I didn’t know if I would catch up to him again.

To break 24 hours, I needed to average about 16 minutes per mile over the last 15 miles.  The first 10 were uphill.  The last five would be downhill.  I didn’t know if I could go fast enough on the uphill section.  I was really feeling the fatigue.

I had two things in my favor.  First, I was real familiar with this section of the trail.  By now, I had run it twice in the uphill direction and four times in the downhill direction.  Second, it was daylight, so I could see all the familiar surroundings.

I ran for one minute at the beginning of each mile.  Then I power walked as fast as I could for the rest of the mile.  About two miles up the trail, I passed Justin when I was running.  I expected him to catch up again when I resumed walking, but he never did.  I’m not sure if he was slowing down or if I was walking that much faster now.

By the time I reached the Oreville aid station, I knew I would break 24 hours, but I never let up in my effort.  I was counting down the number of times I would have to force myself to run for a minute.  With only about 10 miles to go, I decided to top off my bottle with Powerade.  That was pre-mixed, so it saved time.  At this point, it no longer mattered what I drank.

About a mile past Oreville, I crossed under the highway.  Now I was focused on climbing up to Crazy Horse.  When I saw this tunnel again, I knew I was nearing the top of the climb.  This was the tunnel under the road up to Crazy Horse.

It was still more than a mile to the last aid station.  I forgot it was that far, but this mile was fairly level.

I didn’t bother to eat anything at the Mountain Trailhead aid station.  At this point, any food I ate would still be in my stomach when I finished the race.  I topped off my bottle and kept moving.

It was less than five miles to the finish and it was all downhill.  The first time I did this race, I ran the whole way on this section.  The second time I did this race, I also ran the whole way.  This time, I wanted to run the whole way, but I couldn’t.  I managed to force myself to run about two minutes of each mile.  I had to walk the rest.  Going downhill, I was averaging about 13 minutes per mile.  I would easily break 24 hours, but the time between mileposts seemed like forever.

This section has very little shade.  It was late morning, so it was getting hot again.  Fortunately, I only had a few miles to go.

After passing milepost 46, I saw two people in the distance.  They weren’t moving, so I realized they were probably race volunteers.  That was where I left the trail to head to the finish at the high school track.

I followed the cones that led to the track.  I still had to run about halfway around the track.  I wanted to run the rest of the way, but I couldn’t even make it halfway around the track without taking a walking break.

I finished in 23:39:48.  Then I sat down in a lawn chair and drank some water.  I was completely spent.  While I was catching my breath, I saw a few other runners finish.  One of them was Justin, who also broke 24 hours.

After finishing, I received my belt buckle.  This is my fourth buckle from a 100 mile trail run.  Three of them are from Lean Horse.

When I got back to the hotel, I took off my shoes.  I had painful blisters around both heels.  Somehow, I never noticed them during the race.  I had abrasions on a few of my toes.

Four weeks ago, I had a DNF at the Vermont 100, so it was especially important to finish this one.  Getting a sub 24 hour finish put an exclamation point on it.

My training includes enough running to run well in a marathon, but I’m not in good enough shape to run 100 miles.  Fortunately, I’m in good enough shape to walk 100 miles.  I walked the vast majority of this race, and it was only on the strength of my walking that I broke 24 hours.

Today, I have sore muscles.  That’s to be expected, but they’re not the same muscles that are usually sore after a race like this.  My quads feel OK.  My calves, glutes and the muscles around my hips are the ones that are sore.  Those are walking muscles.

Race Statistics

Distance:  100 miles

Time:  23:39:48

Average Pace:  14:12

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  356

Lifetime 100s:  13

Race Report: 2018 Vermont 100

On July 21st, I attempted the Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Race.  I didn't finish.  This is one of the five oldest 100 miles trail runs in the United States.   I needed a Western States qualifier, and I chose this one because it’s run mostly on jeep roads and horse trails.  It’s hilly, but my understanding was that it’s not technical.

When I entered this race, I was still only running about once a week.  I didn’t know if I could be in shape to run 100 miles, but this seemed like a fairly walkable course.  The time limit is 30 hours.  I figured if I could walk 100 miles in 24 hours at FANS, I could probably walk 100 hilly miles in 30 hours.  If necessary, I could do just enough running to keep myself on pace.

By the end of June, I was not only capable of walking 100 miles, but I was back to running every other day.  After a strong performance at the Manitoba Marathon, I was much more confident that I was in good enough shape to run a significant percentage of the race.  I was also getting more confident that I could do so without injuring my back.

Three weeks before the race, I started to experience some inflammation in my left leg, where my hamstring meets my pelvis.  I had done two fairly aggressive walking workouts that day.  After the second one, I suddenly had discomfort just walking around the house.  I wasn’t sure if it was a partial tear or just tendonitis, but I took it pretty seriously.

I was already as well-trained as I was going to be, so there was no good reason why I couldn’t cut back in my training.  I took three days off, and iced it a few times a day.  When I no longer felt discomfort doing day-to-day activities, I went for a walk at a slower than usual pace.  I felt OK for the first five miles, but then I felt a little bit of soreness.  The next day, I went for a run.  I was able to go farther before feeling any discomfort, but I still felt a little soreness toward the end of my run.

After two more days off, I felt like I was back to normal, but I continued to train cautiously.  At this point, I was doing just enough training to lose conditioning.  I limited myself to one workout per day, at most, and continued to take rest days.

I was feeling like I was back to normal and got more confident that I’d be OK for the race.  Then, after two weeks of really holding back in my walking, I did a brisk walk on a hilly route.  I felt some discomfort during my walk, and continued to feel sore later in the day.  That was just six days before the race.

After that, I did only one workout in the next five days.  Going into the race, I was a little worried about losing conditioning, but I was much more worried that I wasn’t sufficiently healed.  I felt OK running at a moderate pace and walking at a cautious pace, but I didn’t know if I could walk at a brisk pace.  I also didn’t know how it would hold up over 100 miles of hills.

That forced me to abandon my original pacing plan.  If I couldn’t walk at a fast pace, I had to do more running to maintain a fast enough pace.  Walking 100 miles in 30 hours would be fairly easy if it was flat, but this race is hilly.  I knew I’d be slow on the steeper hills, so I had to compensate for that.  I was still afraid to do too much downhill running, so my new plan was to walk the downhill sections and do a run/walk mix on the uphill sections.

The Vermont 100 is run on private land in eastern Vermont, starting and finishing at Silver Hill Meadow in West Windsor.  The closest major airports are Burlington, VT and Manchester, NH.  There aren’t any direct flights from Minneapolis to either of these cities, so getting there involved two flight segments, plus some driving.

I needed to be at Silver Hill Meadow by Friday afternoon for check-in and a mandatory pre-race briefing.  I knew I couldn’t get there on time if I flew out on Friday, so I flew to Manchester on Thursday and drove to White River Junction, which is about 20 miles from Silver Hill Meadow.  I could have found closer lodging, but I stayed at the Hampton Inn in White River Junction, so I could stick with a familiar hotel chain.  I didn’t want to risk any unpleasant surprises.

After checking in at Hampton Inn, I had dinner in town.  Then I tried to get to bed as early as I could.  I didn’t sleep well that night, which is a shame, since it was my only chance to get a full night’s sleep.

Friday morning, I slept in as late as I could.  That turned out to be 5:45.  I had breakfast at the hotel.  Then I drove to Silver Hill Meadow to pick up my race packet and do my pre-race medical check.  The medical check included a pre-race weigh-in wearing the same gear I planned to use for the race.

This race also includes a 100 mile horse riding race.  The courses are different, but they have quite a bit of overlap.  While I was at the meadow, I saw several of the horses in the camping area.

When I was done checking in for the race, I drove back to White River Junction to drop off my race packet and change into street clothes.  Then I drove just across the river into West Lebanon, NH, where I discovered this lasagna pizza at Ziggy’s Pizza.

I didn’t have a crew, so I had to rely on drop bags for any gear I needed to pick up or drop off during the race.  There were seven different aid stations where you could have a drop bag.  Of these, the Camp 10 Bear aid station was the only aid station that we would visit twice during the race.  We would visit it at 47 miles and again at 69.4 miles.  I didn’t know how far I would get before dark, but having my drop bag here gave me some flexibility.  By the time I finished 47 miles, I would have a good idea whether I needed to pick up my headlamp on the first pass or could wait until the second pass.

After lunch, I organized my race gear and packed my drop bag.  I had a couple hours to explore White River Junction.  Then I drove back to Silver Hill Meadow for a mandatory pre-race briefing.  I could have saved a trip by waiting until the afternoon to do packet pickup, but I wanted to get familiar with the route.  In the morning, I would have to find my way in the dark.  I couldn’t count on using my phone for directions, because cell reception in this area is spotty, and it might direct me along class IV roads that we were advised not to use.  After driving there twice in daylight, I was pretty sure I could find my way in the dark.

When I got to Silver Hill Meadow, I dropped off my bag.  Then I went to the big tent for the pre-race briefing.  In addition to the usual stuff, we were given some advice about sharing the trails with horses.

During the briefing, the race director mentioned that we would be getting some rain during the night.  That caught me by surprise.  A week before the race, when I started watching the forecast, I saw a chance of rain during the night.  As it got closer to race day, it seemed like the rain risk went away.  The last time I checked the forecast I was only paying attention to the high and low temperatures.  I didn’t think to check the nighttime forecast for rain.  Oops.

I immediately regretted that I didn’t put a jacket or rain poncho in my drop bag.  I certainly could have.  I brought them, and I had plenty of room in my bag.  By now, it was too late.  I had already turned in my bag, and my rain poncho and Tyvek jacket were both at the hotel.

After the briefing, there was a pre-race dinner.  It was a pretty good meal.  They had at least four types of pasta, a few salads, rolls, bread, and cookies.  They also had water and lemonade, but you had to bring your own cup or bottle.  This is a cupless race, and that includes the dinner.  After the dinner, I drove back to the hotel and discovered a baggie with half of my electrolyte pills.  That was supposed to be in my drop bag.  Instead, I had to keep them in my fanny pack.  Fortunately, they don’t take up much space.

After reviewing the forecast, I couldn’t ignore the risk of rain Saturday night.  I had two options.  I could tie a Tyvek jacket around my waist, or I could try to stuff a plastic rain poncho into my fanny pack, which was already full.  In either case, I could eventually put it in my drop bag, but not until my first pass through Camp 10 Bear, which would take several hours.

After verifying the rain poncho would fit in the fanny pack, I tried to get to sleep as early as I could.  I slept well for about four and a half hours.  That’s more than I expected.  I actually felt more alert than I did on Friday.

The race started at 4:00 AM, and I needed to check in at the start by 3:45.  I usually allow an hour to get ready in the morning, and I had to allow time for the drive.  I set my alarm for 2:00, but I was awake at 1:00, so I started getting ready.

I had time to fix a cup of tea and reheat a slice of my leftover pizza.  Then I checked the weather forecast again.  The forecast high for race day was 82 degrees.  The early morning temperature only 56 degrees, so I could look forward to several hours of comfortable running before it got hot.  It now seemed certain it would rain during the night, but it was hard to predict when it would start.  It seemed unlikely it would start before 4 AM.  That gave me 24 hours to finish before it started raining.  Originally, I just wanted to finish within the 30 hour time limit.  Now I was strongly motivated to finish within 24 hours, which was an ambitious goal.  I needed to do much more running than I originally planned.

I had two reasons to be concerned about the rain.  First, I was planning to wear the same clothes and shoes for the entire race, so I dressed for the afternoon heat.  I expected to get cold during the night, when the temperature dropped back into the 50s.  My plastic rain poncho was the only extra layer I could add, and it wouldn’t cover my arms and legs.  If we got a soaking rain, I’d almost certainly get hypothermic.  I struggle with those conditions when I’m running.  I don’t generate as much heat when I’m walking.

I was also concerned about running in the dark on muddy trails. After talking to runners who have done this race in rainy years, I got the impression that the course really degrades when it’s wet.

I had no trouble driving to the start in the dark.  I already knew every turn.  I got there at 3:00 and was able to park close to the start.  After checking in, I relaxed in my car until 3:30.  Then I made a bathroom stop and filling my bottle.

My fanny pack was so full, I could barely get it on.  In addition to the rain poncho, I had my car keys, room card, electrolyte pills, camera, and flashlight.  I’d be using the flashlight for the first hour of the race, but I had to have room to put in back in my fanny pack.

As the race started, we ran downhill for the first mile.  I ran this whole section.  I would have been more comfortable walking it, but I wanted to stay with the main pack of runners in the early miles.

We eventually left the road to make a sharp right turn onto a dirt trail.  The course was well marked, but I could easily have missed this turn in the dark if I was by myself.  That’s why I wanted to be in a thick pack until there was enough natural light to see.

I could see some rocks in the trail, so I ran cautiously and kept my light focused on the ground right in front of me.  When we reached a trail section without any rocks, I turned off my light.  There was enough light from the runners around me that I could still see.

Each time we reached an uphill section, the people ahead of me started walking.  When they walked, I walked.  When they resumed running, I did too.  As a result, I was running all the downhill section and walking all the uphill sections.  That’s almost the opposite of what I planned, but it was the path of least resistance.  I training to walk both uphill and downhill, but I only trained to run uphill. I was worried that the downhill running might beat up my quads, but I was maintaining a good pace, running downhill and power-walking uphill.

By 5:00, there was enough natural light to see the whole road, so I stuffed my flashlight back into my fanny pack.

I had to run seven miles before reaching the first of 25 aid stations.  After that, they were never more than five miles apart, and they were sometimes much closer.  There was a place at this aid station where we could drop off our flashlights or headlamps.  I didn’t like having that the excess weight in my fanny pack, but if I dropped it off, I wouldn’t be able to use it later in the race.  I kept it with me as an insurance policy, in case I misjudged my pacing and didn’t reach Camp 10 Bear for the second time until after dark.

I didn’t want to carry too much weight, so I wore a fuel belt that holds only one water bottle.  Early in the race, that was enough to get me from one aid station to the next. When it got hot, my plan was to drink at each aid station and then top off my bottle before leaving.

One of my big concerns before the race was my recent tendon injury.  It was feeling OK, but I didn’t know how it would hold up over 100 miles. If it wasn’t healed, that could easily become a problem that could end my race.  In the first mile or two, I felt some tightness in my left hamstring and some mild soreness in my left glute, but no pain at the connection point.  The soreness went away as I got warmed up, so I was able to walk at a fairly brisk pace.

Most of the aid stations just had water and a sports drink called Base.  I filled my bottle with Base at every aid stations.  The large aid stations also had food.  At each of these aid stations, I ate a PBJ.

The horses started later than we did.  We were about two and a half hours into the race when the first horses caught up to us.  The fastest ones passed us so quickly, that I couldn’t get a clear picture.

Most of the course seemed remote, but we sometimes went past farms and houses on residential roads.   At 15 miles, went through a town and got our first real crowd support.  Then we crossed the Taftsville covered bridge.

We turned to followed a road which gave up great views of  this river.

Throughout the day we were passed by more horses.  Most of the riders were in groups of three or four.

For the first 25 miles, the majority of the course was on dirt roads that looked like this.

Some of trail sections were fairly runnable, but some of them had rocks.  Going uphill, I walked at the best pace I could manage, but some of these sections were steep.  Going downhill, I had to run cautiously.  Where there were rocks, I had to walk.

At the tops of the climbs we were sometimes rewarded with views of the surrounding hills.

I reached 25 miles in less than five hours.  I was averaging 12 minutes per mile, which put me on pace for a 20 hour finish.  I was worried I was going too fast and would pay for it later.  I was also worried about how much downhill running I was doing.  My legs weren’t conditioned for that, and I was concerned I was probably beating up my quads.  I was maintaining such a fast pace only because I felt it was important to finish within 24 hours to stay ahead of the rain.

I talked to another runner who has done this race before.  I commented that it seemed like there was twice as much downhill as uphill.  It wasn’t just me.  He also felt like the course was much easier than he remembered.  I later learned that the first 25 miles was the easiest part of the course.

After that, we encountered more trail sections, and they became more technical. 
We started a climb that went on and on.  I was able to maintain a brisk pace on most of it, but after so much climbing, I knew there would eventually be a long steep descent.  There was.  The descent was surprisingly steep, over a series of grassy hillsides.  For the first time, I passed one of the horses.  On uphill or flat terrain, the horses were faster.  The horses don’t like steep descents, so they tend to be slower than runners on these sections.

Running down these hills was uncomfortable.  I couldn’t run them freely, so I was constantly putting on the brakes to control my speed.  If I didn’t trash my quads earlier, I certainly did here.  I should have walked down the hills, but it was uncomfortable trying to walk downhill through the tall grass.

When I reached the next aid station, they said we were done with 30 miles.  I checked my watch.  My pace over the last five miles was about 13 minutes per mile.  That was still faster than the pace I needed to finish in 24 hours, but I was concerned about the damage I did to my quads.  I also knew I would slow down in the afternoon heat.  I was already getting hot and sweaty, even though it was only a little after 10:00.  Leaving that aid station, we followed a paved road for a few minutes before entering the next trail section.  I walked this, so I could take the time to eat a PBJ.

The next section of trail was uphill. It was so steep, I couldn’t walk it fast.  Until now, I always passed people going uphill. Now, others were passing me.  This climb went on and on and on.  It must have been at least a mile, and it was all steep.  This section wore me out, and I never recovered from it.

When we eventually got onto road again, I could no longer run all of the downhill sections.  Even when the slope was gradual, I had to take walking breaks, because my quads got sore.

There was another long uphill section, but this one was on road.  I tried to walk briskly, but quickly got tired and had to slow to a casual walking pace.  After the long hill and another uncomfortable descent, I crossed another covered bridge, which led me into the next aid station.

At the Lincoln Covered Bridge aid station, they handed me a wet cloth.  My head was covered with sweat, so I took off my hat and sunglasses and wiped away the sweat.  Before leaving the aid station I ate some pickle slices and a potato wedge covered with salt.

The sign at the aid station said I was done with 39.2 miles.  I thought it said the next one was at 41 miles, but I misread the sign.  It actually said it was 4.1 miles to the next aid station.

I was getting thirsty.  Thinking it was only two miles to the next aid station, I drank more.  In the next two miles I drained my bottle.  I didn’t know it, but I still had two miles to go before the next aid station.

I could no longer run.  Now I was walking both uphill and downhill.  I could no longer power walk either.  All I could do was walk at a casual pace.  Walking downhill was now painful.

During this stretch, I had to face several painful realities.  I still had almost 60 miles to go.  Now that I was reduced to a casual walking pace, it would take me another 20 hours.  Every mile was going to be painful.  I still had enough time to finish within the time limit, but I might have to walk in the rain for as much as five hours.  If that happened, I would surely get hypothermic.

You can tolerate a lot of discomfort if you’re motivated.  At FANS, I had a burning desire to get my Centurion badge.  I no longer had a burning desire to finish this race.  This race was a stepping stone toward eventually running the Western States 100.  For the past year, I’ve had serious doubts about whether I could train for Western States without reinjuring my back, but I wanted to keep my options open.  Now I also had serious doubts about whether I could ever finish that race.  It’s much more difficult than this one, and this one was kicking my ass.  I suddenly had serious doubts about whether I still wanted to do Western States.  There are a lot of races I want to do, and I can’t do all of them.  Having a Western States qualifier in my schedule each year makes me skip other races.  I had an epiphany and realized it just wasn’t worth it any more.  It’s time for me to accept my limits and focus on the races I’m good at.

There was one other thought on my mind.  At the pre-race dinner, I bumped into a runner I know who has done this race 27 times.  When I asked him if he had any advice, he said, “Have fun.”  At this point in the race, I wasn’t having any fun.  It was now just a long painful ordeal.

I was ready to quit, but I had to get to one of the major aid stations.  The next major aid station was Camp 10 Bear, which was at 47 miles.

Before that, I had get to Lillians aid station.  This section was mostly road, but it was still agonizingly slow and painful.  It seemed like it took forever.  When I got there, I ate a piece of watermelon and started eating a popsicle as I left the aid station.  I still had 3.7 miles to get to Camp 10 Bear.  As I left Lillians, there was a brief section alongside a highway.  It was flat, and I started talking to another runner as we both walking along the road.  Then we got onto a section of dirt road, which was also fairly flat.  As we were talking, I almost made a wrong turn.  I didn’t notice the trail marker showing where to leave the road.  Fortunately, I was with another runner who was paying more attention.

The trail was extremely well marked.  If you missed a turn, it’s because you weren’t paying attention.  At every turn, they had yellow disks with arrows.  Sometimes, they also had chalk arrows on the road.  Between the turns, there were yellow disks with the letter “C.”  These were confidence markers to let you know you were still on the right trail.

After a long section of flat roads, I started to feel more comfortable. I felt like I might be recovering.  Then we entered another trail section.  At first it was downhill, and I started to run it.  After a few steps, I thought better of that and switched to walking.  Then I started up a long steep hill.  Other runners were walking up the hill at a casual pace.  I couldn’t even do that.  Everyone was passing me.  This section was single track, so I had to keep stepping off the trail to let people pass.  That section removed any doubt about what the rest of the race would be like.  I was out of gas.

Normally, if I’m considering dropping from a race, I’ll try to make it as far as I can.  Camp 10 Bear was the best place to stop, because my drop bag was there, but I’d be going though there again at 69.4 miles. Normally, I’d keep going until I got there for the second time.  Just getting there from Lincoln Cover Bridge seemed like a death march.  I just couldn’t imagine dragging myself through another 22.4 slow painful miles when I knew I’d be dropping later anyway.  I also preferred stopping in the afternoon.  By the time I got back there again it would be well after dark.

The last two miles before Camp 10 Bear were on dirt roads.  I had no way of knowing if I was getting close to the aid station, so the road seemed to go on and on.

Before one of the last turns, I saw what looked like a trail marker, but it was pointed at a funny angle.  Were we supposed to turn right?  I saw runners ahead of me who were going straight.  A runner at the intersection turned back toward me and asked me if we were supposed to turn here.  I said, “I think so.  I see a trail marker.”  She missed that marker, but looking down the road to her right, she saw one of the confidence markers.

She knew the two runners who went straight and yelled their names.  No answer.  They were already out of sight around a bend.  I yelled, “You missed a turn” as loud as I could.  It was so loud I could hear my voice echo through the meadow.  They heard me and yelled, “Thanks.”  They had to backtrack for about a quarter mile, but that’s better than going miles out of their way before discovering they were off course.  That could really ruin your day.

Camp 10 Bear is by far the largest of the aid stations.  As I got close, I saw a bunch of parked cars.  When I got there, I checked in and asked where the drop bags were.  After retrieving my drop bag, I told one of the volunteers I was dropping out, and I gave her my race bib.  That’s the protocol.  They need to know that you’re no longer on the trail, so they don’t have to search for you when you’re overdue to check in at the next aid station.

It took me 10½ hours to finish 47 miles.  Technically, I was still on pace for a 24 hour finish.  In reality, it would take me close to 18 hours to do 53 more miles at the pace I was now walking.  I had enough time, but I just couldn’t see putting myself through that many hours of pain, and quite frankly, I was afraid of getting caught in a cold rain during the night.

They had a shuttle to take runners or pacers to the other major aid stations or the start/finish area.  Near the food table, I saw they were grilling burgers and brats.  While I was waiting for the next shuttle, I had a burger.  I couldn’t imagine eating anything that filling during a race, but now it was post-race food, and it really hit the spot.

After I got back to the start/finish area, I drove back to the hotel.  By the time I showered and changed clothes, it was already dinner time, and I was hungry again.  I still had leftover pizza, so I didn’t have to go out.

I slept well Saturday night.  I slept in and didn’t get up until 8:00.  When I went down to breakfast, I saw that it was beginning to rain lightly.  That was around 8:30.  I don’t know if there were periods of rain during the night.  If not, I might have been able to finish before the rain started.  If I had known that, I might have continued, but it still would have meant 18 slow painful hours of walking, and I still would have been cold during the night.  It’s easy to second-guess your decisions after the fact.

I made several mistakes before this race that led to my failure to finish.  My first mistake was underestimating the difficulty of this course.  I was expecting most of it to be on dirt roads.  I thought the trail sections would have a surface similar to the roads.  I wasn’t expecting anything technical, and I wasn’t expecting hills that were so steep.  My second mistake was overestimating my own preparedness for this race.  I’ve had some good results running, but those were in road races.  I wasn’t prepared to run on trails, and I wasn’t prepared to do a bunch of downhill running.  My third mistake was not only abandoning my pacing plan, but starting at a pace that was clearly too fast.  My last mistake was not being prepared for the possibility of rain during the night.  I got careless and didn’t keep checking the forecast.  I should have had rain gear and extra layers.  I also should probably have had more than one drop bag.  I’m usually on top of that stuff, but I got complacent.

It’s not all bad news.  A week ago, I couldn’t walk at a brisk pace without aggravating an injured hamstring tendon.  I didn’t think it would be healed before this race.  Apparently it was.  It didn’t bother me during the race, and it’s not bothering me today.  I have lots of sore muscles, but that tendon isn’t sore at all.  After three weeks of mostly resting, I’m ready to resume training.  I was really worried that I would aggravate this injury to the point where I would be jeopardizing the other races on my schedule.  Not finishing this race, but being healthy again is a trade-off I’ll gladly accept.

Race Statistics

Race Distance:  100 miles

Result:  Did Not Finish

Distance Covered:  47 miles

Average Pace:  13:24