In the Spring of 2014 during our weekly night run (Boulder Trail Runners, Wed 8:30pm) Jason was quizzing me on what I thought were the best ‘first time’ 100mile races out there. I’ve run and/or paced at 12 different 100mile races, and at the top of my list as being recommended for first timers are Bighorn 100 and the Bear 100. Both are phenomenal courses, though challenging, with a mix of hike-able terrain and smoother single track, great aid stations and support and a generous final cutoff time. The seed had been planted, and Jason was intrigued, but being a working family man with two young girls he wasn’t sure if he could commit the time necessary to train for something as big as 100miles. I promised him ‘If you sign up for the Bear, I’ll come pace you’…….

June came and went, July rolled around and it was Hardrock time, after that I settled into my typical summer pattern of some maintenance runs during the week and big adventure runs in the Colorado Rockies on the weekends. On one of these adventures, the Ten Mile Traverse near Breckenridge, Jason let me know that he was feeling good about training and thus was going to sign up for the Bear 100. He was calling me out on my promise to pace him, and I couldn’t say no to being a part of such a wonderful and challenging journey.

Scott and Jason cruising across the mellow part of the Ten Mile Range

September finally rolled around and it was go time, after a quick meeting with Jason and his wife Meggan the plan was set, Meggan and Karen (Jason’s sister) would do much of the crewing and I’d pace the final 49miles of the course. All Jason had to do was keep moving, easier said than done when you’re talking about 28-36hours and 100miles with 22000ft of elevation gain.

Erin Gibbs and I bailed out of Denver on Thursday afternoon and booked it for the Utah border, we wouldn’t see our runners until mm30 as we were planning to sleep in a bit. Friday morning (race day) was beautifully clear and quite hot, which made us hopeful that the 60% chance of precip forecast for Saturday would not materialize, but by the time we left the condo to head on course, the weather report read 80%…..rain was coming.

Jason making his way into Cowley at mm30.

Gibbs, Chris and I packed up and headed onto the course to cheer on our runners as we waited our respective turns to start pacing. All three of our runners Misti (Chris), Jason (me) and Mark (Gibbs) looked good coming into the aid stations at miles 30, 37 and 45. Jason had gone out at a very comfortable pace and was moving strong, just what I wanted to see him do the first 50miles. Karen joined him from mm37-mm45 while Meggan joined him from mm45-mm51. This gave me a chance to get my $%&* together for the long night ahead, a 49mile jaunt from sunset through sunrise all the way to the finish.

Meggan, Jason and Karen jogging into Temple Fork. Meggan about to start pacing, Karen finishing up pacing.

The course this year was absolutely stunning, the aspens were a vibrant mixture of green, yellow, orange and red, the maples looked like they’d exploded in flames and so far only a few drops of rain had fallen….little did we know what was coming. Karen and I waited at Tony Grove for Meggan and Jason as darkness began to envelope the mountains. We watch Misti and Chris come through, then friends Kristel and Rob…finally we heard Jason’s voice, it was go time. We loaded up and headed off up the hill into the darkness. Our cruise up and over into Franklin Basin was fairly uneventful, just a few sprinkles and some distant flashes of lightning, but that all changed as we headed up and over the hill to the Logan River AS.

First rain storm of the night around midnight, all geared up and having fun.

Then we realized that rain meant mud, sticky, slippery mud….mm56.

Around 1am a steady rain began to fall, and we watched from the safety of the aid station, trying to decide if this was here to stay. Jason and I both devoured some of the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and soup we’d tasted before setting off on the now wet trail. As we hiked up the hill toward Beaver Mountain the rain subsided, but our formerly dusty trail had been turned into several inches of slick and clumpy mud, it was going to be a long night.

We made good time downhill, but Jason’s shin (tibialis anterior tendonitis) was really starting to bother him when we ran. Finally the lights of the ski lodge came into view and we jogged the final bit to the lodge door, greeted by the musty smell of dirty sweaty runners. The scene in the ski lodge is always somewhat depressing, people passed out in every corner, exhausted runners with their heads between their knees, and way too much negative energy. Meggan set to work on Jason’s shin, Karen refilled his pack/gear and I went into a frenzy finding Jason and myself some food to eat. I didn’t want him to hang around here longer than absolutely necessary. We finally got all our stuff in order and set off back into the early morning hours, it would be ten miles before the crew again, and it would turn out to be a LONG ten miles.

We briskly power hiked up the jeep road, and admittedly I began to get a little sleepy (having been awake for almost 20hours), but was rudely awakened by the light rain that began to fall. The rain picked up and it was at this point that it became very apparent Jason had left his waterproof jacket with the crew and was only sporting a wind breaker. As the rain picked up I realized we needed to get to the Gibson Basin AS in a hurry. We pushed the last 1/2mile into the meager aid station where 6-8 runners were already huddled under the small tarps as the wind and rain pounded the surroundings, many were soaked, several were contemplating dropping, and I knew if I couldn’t keep Jason semi-dry and warm-ish until we reached crew he might be in danger of this as well.

Jason and other runner hunkered down under our small tarp at Gibson Basin as the rain pounds us. No one was dry, but the Aid Station workers were still awesome.

Jason threw on my rain pants, stripped off his soaking wet wind breaker in exchange for his insulated layer (not waterproof) and threw on a garbage bag I’d rustled up from the aid station. I told him to eat some soup and to drink some water, because once we started moving we weren’t going to break until we reached the next aid station. Another runner Jeff hooked on with us and we shuffled off into the rainy night. The dirt road was flooded, everything not under water was covered in slippery mud and the wind blew the rain sideways. We finally hit the small climb that marked the last mile into the Beaver Campground, and the driving rain became a light drizzle. We felt much better about our situation, as we’d survived the cold damp night in ok shape.

Cruising through the changing fall colors between Beaver Campground and Ranger Dip, its a muddy mess.

We jogged down the slick as snot mud into the AS, apparently Meggan and Karen didn’t recognize us, so I made a beeline for the car, slamming my face into the passenger’s side door, they both let out a loud shriek of terror, success, they knew we had arrived 🙂 The drama was over, so we changed into some dry clothing, restocked our food and water and quickly headed back out on the trail.

Jason’s original goal was a sub-30h finish, and we were gonna have to push it to make the time (15miles in 4.25h). Jason’s shin had gotten worse and it was causing him pretty severe pain on the flats and downhills. I told him that if he hung with me I’d get us to that finish line as quick as possible, but it was gonna hurt, and the only way to make the hurt stop was to finish. We pushed on to Ranger Dip, made a very quick and efficient pit stop and were soon headed up the final 800ft climb. As we started the big descent into Fish Haven Jason’s shin began to scream in pain with every step. I pushed him onward, not sure how best to distract him from the obvious misery.

Meggan, Jason and I jogging into the finish of the Bear 100. Photo by Karen Oliver.

The rain descended back onto us, turning a normally steep dusty downhill into a flowing river of greasy mud, some of the toughest and nastiest conditions I’ve ever encountered on a trail. My semi-fresh legs were struggling to slip and slide down the hill, Jason’s tired and aching legs were obviously not fairing as well. I did my best to urge Jason on through the slippery mud and the painful shin injury. Near the bottom we caught up to Chris and finally hit the dirt road that led into town. A huge wave of relief came over us all, we had 45min to do less than 2miles, and boy did we relish being back on that smooth dirt road. We finally crossed the highway, picked up Meggan and Karen for our final jog across the line. At 29h36min Jason finished his first 100miler; tired, muddy, a little water logged but very excited to have completed our journey, especially considering all the adversity the course had provided. Our condo went 4 for 4 on that day; with Misti, Kendrick, Jason and Mark all finishing. I was also excited to see many other friends tough it out to the finish; congrats to Ted, Jon, Nate, Bryon, Gavin, Jorge, Wendy, Ellen and all the finishers of the 2014 Bear 100, you truly earned this one.

Runners and pacers relishing in a hard earned finish. Just awaiting Mark (who finished). Photo by Karen Oliver.

It’s 100miler season in the Rocky Mountain West and with many races on tap for the next month I figured I’d right up a few thoughts on what makes a good pacer (in my eyes). In my eight years of ultrarunning I’ve finished seven different 100mile races and paced another successful 15-20, so these are just some thoughts I’ve gleened from pacing people of all different abilities from top ten to pushing the cutoffs.

For those unfamiliar with the ultramarathon scene, in most 100mile races the runner is allowed to have someone accompany them, a Pacer, for the latter 50-60% of the course. This ‘Pacer’ can be a friend, family member, random person picked up at the race or in one’s home town, but no matter who they are there main goal is to help get the runner to the finish line as quick as possible and in one piece.

1. As a Pacer you are more than just someone who follows and/or runs alongside the runner; you are a baby sitter, a navigator, an entertainer, a motivator and most of all a friend. Remember, you’re there to HELP your runner.
2. Take care of yourself. While you are there to help your runner get across that finish line, you’re of no use if you don’t take care of yourself along the way, remember to eat, drink, and bring plenty of warm/dry clothes. If you’re suffering it’s going to drag your runner down.
3. Be attentive to your runner, because they may not always be attentive to themselves. Before you start out it’s helpful to learn about their plan/strategy. How often do they eat/drink, what is their intended pace, do they like to run in front or have you lead the way, are they stronger uphill or downhill, how do they deal with the dark and sleep deprivation? All of these questions are something to be aware of, because as the miles pile up, your runner will often become less cognizant of their own well being and one of your duties is to act as the baby sitter and make sure they stay on task.
   

   Pacer and wife offering a post-race massage to a successful Leadville 100 finisher.

4. Know their limits, and keep them on pace. We all have grand ideas of how well our first 100miler will go, sometimes that’s shooting for a big/silver belt buckle, others its simply to finish in one piece. Know what your runner’s goal is, and only push them as appropriate toward this, run their pace NOT YOURS. It’s a long race, and sometimes they need reminding that one doesn’t need to run 8min/miles if their goal is to simply finish. On the converse, as a Pacer you should know all the cutoffs, and make sure your runner always stays ahead of these.
5. Eat Eat Eat. A 100miler is a long race, and while a select few can do it on gels and liquids alone, >95% of us need to eat some good hearty calories along the way. Some things I’ve found to work well are; soups, potatoes, cashews/almonds, pasta, turkey & avocado wraps and of course bacon! Now, you don’t want to have them sit down for a four course meal, but 400-600 calories of this every few hours in addition to regular fueling should do the trick. If they are feeling nauseous and don’t want to eat, insist they must. Throwing up is about the same as not eating, so keep trying until you find something that works, that’s your job as a pacer, do what’s best for the runner, even if they hate you for it. NOTE: We are all different, and food choices are a very individual thing, ask your runner first.
   

   Hardrock 100 Aid Station fair, plus >20lbs of bacon and otter pops. Don’t skip out, chow down!

6. Don’t skimp, carry some extra ‘just in case’ items. As a pacer your job isn’t to carry as little gear as you can possibly get away with, it’s to make sure you’re prepared for whatever time/pace/illness crops up during the race. Remember, you’ll most likely be moving slower than you’re used to, as you’re runner has put in at least 50miles more than you. A few items I like to carry are; tums, gasX, aspirin, fennel seeds (calm upset stomachs), ginger chews (good for stomachs), disposable hand warmers, caffeine pills and an extra flashlight/batteries.
   

   Pacer at the Leadville 100 carrying both her own pack AND her runner’s pack. Muling is allowed at Leadville.

7. Light the Way. By the time night falls during a 100mile race most runners are getting tired and a little delirious. As a pacer you can be most helpful by bringing a bright flashlight/headlamp and lighting the way. Make sure to spot course markings and to stay on route, this saves the runner a ton of mental energy as they can simply focus on moving and ‘following the leader’. Make sure you have new batteries and/or extras. NOTE: Make sure your light has AT LEAST 100lumens of power; I like the Petzl Myo RXP/Tikka RXP plus a Fenix E21 for my pacing duties.
   

   Hey look, course markings! A good headlamp is very helpful, 2012 IMTUF 100.

8. Know the Course. I’m not saying that you need to know every turn, but you should at least know the distances between aid stations and the general race profile. I like to print out a small table (often from the race website) that has these stats on it. Both while crewing and pacing it’s very helpful to reminder your runner when they have especially long or arduous sections coming up. Once again you’re the babysitter 🙂
9. Don’t Let Them Drop Because “It’s Hard”. There are plenty of valid reasons to drop from a 100mile race; risk of serious injury, dangerous conditions on course or to personal well being, pulled due to missing cutoffs, but if I’m pacing you the “I’m tired” excuse or “My legs hurt” isn’t gonna fly, these are both  part of the game. Being tired and/or sleepy is part of running 100miles, so keep on pushing, if you are truly too tired to stay on your feet, then take a short nap. Secondly, muscles are gonna hurt and sometimes you’ll have a few sore joints, time to toughen up and keep on moving. Lastly, sometimes your runner’s stomach will turn south, in that case there are several things a pacer can do; get them to try ginger, tums, fennel seeds or a host of other natural aids, all of which can help settle an upset stomach. And if it’s really bad, stop your runner IN an aid station, sit them down to rest and try to eat and settle the stomach. Sometimes a break is necessary, but as a pacer, never let them quit at the first sign of adversity. It doesn’t always get worse….in fact it will often get better.
   

   When you gotta sleep, you gotta sleep. 2010 Wasatch 100, snoring in 5sec.

10. Lastly, Have Fun.  Remind yourself and your runner that we do this for fun! They signed up and paid good money for this sufferfest, so they might as well enjoy it. Some runners like to move in silence, others enjoy the jokes and comraddry of a pacer, so know their style and be a distraction from the surrounding difficulties, it’ll help them mentally.
    

    Sometimes you just need a little Turtle Power to lighten the mood. TMNT at the 2012 IMTUF 100. Photo by LongRun Photography.

Best of luck to all those racing in the upcoming weeks at; Wasatch, Tor de Geants, Run Rabbit Run, Pine to Palm, IMTUF, The Bear, and all the other races I’ve forgotten.

Disclaimer: This list solely represents my views and opinions on pacing 100mile running races, you may not agree with any or all of what I’ve said above, and that’s ok.

Trying to put everything that encompassed my 2014 Hardrock 100 journey onto paper has been a tricky endeavor. I’ve fully deleted what I’ve written twice, and am still unsure of everything it meant, but will try to put it out there none the less. There is no short way for me to tell this story, so grab a cup of coffee/tea and settle in. If you just want the visual tour of my race, check out my race video. I’d waited seven years to finally get a crack at the Hardrock 100, a race that I’d paced, crewed, and volunteered at on many occasions. After months of solid training and a little R&R, race week was upon us and I was antsy in anticipation of the start.

Getting geared up race morning.

Finally race morning arrived, I went through my usual preparations and headed to the gym, all the while trying to contain my excitement and energy and direct it into the many miles that lay ahead. The starting gun went off, and we zoomed out of town along the mining road, headed for Putnam Basin. The crowd at this year’s Hardrock 100 was much larger than usual due to the unprecedented elite field which included; last year’s winner Seb Chaigneau, 2012 winner Julien Chorier, the one and only Dakota Jones, Tim Olsen and the phenomenal Kilian Jornet. While it made for a cool scene, there presence did not factor into my goals for the day, to complete my first Hardrock and do so to the best of my abilities.

I splashed through Mineral Creek and settled into a comfortable fast hiking pace up the Putnam climb, the goal was to simply stay strong and to not blow myself up on the first two climbs. The cool cloudy morning played right into my hands as I don’t like the heat. I crested the top of the Putnam divide along with a few other runners, but promptly blasted down the steep lush green tundra and soon found myself cruising down toward the South Mineral Creek crossing and the KT aid station (AS) at mm11.5 (8:44AM, 2:44). Just before the KT AS I was greeted by Mr Bryon Powell of iRunFar, then a procession of runner’s families and spectators. I topped off my water and blew right out of KT in less than a minute, alternating between a brisk hike and slow shuffle across the traverse to the Island Lake trail.

Island Lake with Ice Lake Basin in the background, nearing Grant Swamp Pass.

Welcoming committee of Rocky Mountain Runners atop Grant Swamp Pass. Photo by Ryan Smith.

Island and Ice Lakes Basins are some of the most beautiful sections of the course, and the San Juans for that matter. As I hiked up toward Grant Swamp Pass I paused a few times to snap some photos and record some short videos, after all we do these races to have fun right? As I neared Grant Swamp I could see dozens of silhouettes standing atop the pass and hear their cheers upon each runner’s arrival. In all my years of pacing and crewing Hardrock I’d never seen a welcoming procession quite like this outside of the AS. Amongst the crowd were many friends from the Rocky Mountain Runners, who even gave me a personal welcome with a human tunnel. I fed off their energy, and after quickly racking up my poles took off down the steep scree of Grant Swamp pass. I bounded and skied down the perfectly runnable slope, maybe a little faster than I should have, but was having so much fun it didn’t matter at that moment (short video by Silke of me running down Grant Swamp). I then took the pace back a notch and just cruised my way into the Chapman AS (mm18, 10:30AM, 4:30). I quickly reloaded my Vfuel and salt cap stock, grabbed two cookies and rushed on out of the AS (notice a trend of rushing).

As I turned onto the short stretch of the Ophir Pass Rd I was again greeted by another two dozen cheering fans, another boost of adrenaline and I was hammering up the steep climb to Oscars Pass. As I climbed out of the trees the clouds parted and the sun baked the orange rock, cooking me in the process. I took the pace down a notch, drank some extra water and just took it easy. I crested the top of Oscars, made the short traverse into Wasatch Basin and began my steep descent to Telluride. A light rain began to fall, a welcome change from the hot sun, it actually felt very cool and refreshing. After suffering a little on the climb up, I was maintaining a solid pace downhill and soon found myself breaking out of the trees in the Telluride Park (mm28, 1:14AM, 7:14), with nearly 100 spectators lining the way to the AS. I met up with my parents (crew) for the first time and sat down to change my shoes and retool. I joked with a few friends who were waiting at the AS, drank some potato soup and before I knew it I was heading off into downtown Telluride.

Looking back at Grant Swamp and Chapman from the Oscar’s climb.

At the Mendota saddle high above Telluride looking toward Virginius Pass.

Descending the steep rotten snow off Virginius Pass. Photo by Megan Finnesy.

As I jogged through the main streets of Telluride I got myself a little turned around, forgetting where the exit point was, thankfully a few spectators were able to point me in the right direction and off to Virginius Pass I went. As I ascended the steady climb my legs began to drag, then light rain began to fall, soon turning to a steady soaking, so I dawned my rain coat for the first of many storms to come. I continued to slog on up the hill, leap frogging with several other runners to treeline. At treeline the clouds parted, the sun came back out and the cool high altitude air reinvigorated me, so I pushed the pace a bit more up to the Mendota Saddle. For the first time during the race I caught up to a runner, John Burton, and we shared some conversation, I’d been running solo 90% of the day to this point. We clawed our way up the final steep slope to the Kroger Canteen AS (mm32.7, 3:34PM, 9:34), a 10ft x 10ft bench cut in the steep rock wall. The smiling faces of Roch Horton and Megan Finnesy greeted us, and sat us down for some food and water. Then down down I went, hand over hand on the rope through some of the most rotten mash potato snow I’d ever been in. After post holing another several hundred feet downhill I finally reached the road into Governor Basin, a welcome break for the legs. I jogged on down the road at a fairly easy pace cruising into the Governor Basin AS (mm36) at 4:12PM, with John not far behind.

I chugged some coke, grabbed a few chips, and was quickly back on the road, next up 8miles of gentle downhill into Ourey. This kind of terrain is not my specialty, I like it steep and rugged, I kept a steady pace none the less, but soon John went blowing by me, hammering the smooth downhill and loving it. He’d go on to a 30hour finish and 12^th place overall, congrats! As I neared Ourey I picked up a little extra pep in my step and ran steady all the way to my waiting crew and pacers (Stephanie and Andy). I pulled up a chair, sponged off in the afternoon heat, ate an otter pop (thanks Brad!) and a few pieces of bacon. I once again found myself back on my feet heading out of Ourey (mm44, 5:25PM, 11:25), now with Stephanie by my side.

Jogging some flat trail out of Ourey toward the Bear Creek trail. Photo by Stephanie Lynn.

I was still feeling sluggish on the climbs, but was able to jog some of the rolling terrain as we started the long climb out of Ourey toward Engineer Pass. Slowly my energy dwindled, and I realized just how calorie deficient I’d become blasting through the aid stations without eating any significant amount of solid food, no amount of gel or clif bars was going to bring me back. As Stephanie led the slow trudge up Bear Creek I became very quiet and did my best to keep pushing forward, but succumbed to the fatigue a few times, collapsing on the side of the trail to try and revive myself. As we exited the narrow shelf trail and ducked into the trees a bright flash, followed 4 seconds later by a deafening boom jolted us both awake. We knew the storm was coming so pushed for the aid station, reaching the little tyvek tarp of the Engineer AS just as the rain began to pickup (mm52, 9:07PM, 15:07).

I’m just resting my eyes, I promise. Doing my best Pete Stevenson impression at the Yellow Jacket Mine. Photo by Stephanie Lynn.
http://www.ericjlee.com/Photo/albums/2010/100910%20Wasatch%20100/DSC_1579_02.jpg

The Long Wet Night

I knew we weren’t going anywhere for a little bit, so I downed two cups of top ramen, several handfuls of Fritos and some cookies, then curled up with a fleece blanket in the corner of the small aid station for a nap. In my half sleepy daze I sensed runner after runner joining us under the 20×20 tarp as the rain and hail hammered the surrounding landscape, lightning and thunder only seconds apart. Most of those entering the AS were completely drenched from the sudden late night deluge, some shivering and near hypothermic. Garbage bags with head holes were being freely distributed, but no one was going back out.

Billy and Ben showing off the latest running fashion on Engineer Pass, garbage bags.

After about 45min in the AS I could sense the separation between the lightning and thunder was growing, 5 seconds, 6 seconds….but the rain continued. Many were debating what to do, no one had left the AS for the pass since I’d arrived, when all of a sudden one of the Japanese runners had enough, he yelled “1-4-3 OUT!” and he and his pacer bolted out into the darkness and the downpour. The rest of us looked at one another, then several runners said, if you head out I’ll go with you….and the exodus was on. The rain had become a light drizzle, the lightning was far away and the combination of impatience and hypothermia turned the tide. My nap and food had re-energized me, so Stephanie and I followed suit, cranking away toward the summit of Engineer Pass across the dark rain drenched tundra. While I’d lost almost 55min in the AS we were moving at full strength again and passed most of those who had caught us, soon finding ourselves under clearing skies at the pass. Rain jackets off, and down the long road we went toward Grouse. The lights of the AS slowly drew nearer, but so did the rain, all too soon it was raining again. We forged ahead, anxious to meet the crew and get a clothing change.

Grouse Gulch AS just before the night fall and the rain started, photo by Kerwin Lee.

We arrived at Grouse to see a water logged AS (mm58.4, 11:43PM, 17:43), but we quickly found my parents and Andy and took shelter in one of the tents. As we rifled through my drop bag we soon learned the storm had not only soaked the runners, but most of my changes of clothes too, damn. My parents rushed back to the car for my dry clothing as I downed several more cups of soup and several handfuls of Fritos, knowing I was still in a calorie hole, one I might not be able to dig out of. New shoes and socks, tights, arm warmers, Spiderman bike jersey, fleece gloves, fleece hat and rain jacket…alright cold rainy night let’s do this! Now it was Andy’s turn to relieve Stephanie and to take me through the night and the long haul to Cunningham Gulch.

My awesome parents/crew working tirelessly to dry all my clothes.

I thanked my parents and we bid them farewell, as it would most likely be 12-14hours before we saw them again, then back out into the rain we went. Andy led the charge up Grouse Gulch, and with dinner in my stomach I was feeling strong. The rain fell harder, no lightning thankfully, but a dense fog now descended upon us as we climbed up into the basin. Soon our headlamps disappeared in the mist only 10ft in front of our faces, this could be trouble as the route from the top of Grouse Gulch across American Basin is all off trail. Andy continued to lead the way, spotting markers and keeping us on track, when all of a sudden the clouds parted and we found ourselves above the rainy fog bank staring up at the stars….wow. As we crossed American Basin my energy began to fade again, and the trudge up Handies was painstakingly slow (ie 1-1.5mph), but I kept moving.

We finally crested Handies Peak, the 14000ft high point of the course and wasted no time dropping down into Grizzly Gulch as both of us were severely chilled in the cold damp night air. The rain had made the trail extremely muddy and slippery and I ate it a couple of times, sliding onto my ass in the mud. When we got our first glimpse of the Burro’s Park AS (mm67.6, 4:11AM, 22:11) a sense of relief came over me, we were off the big mountain and in much safer easier terrain. After a quick refuel we turned down the road and headed toward the Sherman AS. In pretty much every race I have a low sometime between 2am-5am, and the road into Sherman was to be my low. The fatigue turned me into a bleary eyed drunk, stumbling from side to side, unable to walk in a straight line. Andy reminded me I had a 5 hour energy with me, so I popped the cap and took a swig….bleh…I think the bitter taste alone revived me a bit, and we were soon jogging down the road again.

After one last steep descent we shuffled our way into Sherman just before sunrise (mm72, 5:21AM, 23:21). It was a pretty quiet scene; Billy Simpson and pacer were restocking their food, Jason Koop was completely hypothermic and huddled under several blankets by the fire, and another runner sat in a daze slowly eating something. I procured a whole plate of hash browns, covered them in salt and proceeded to devour every last bit, OMG was that good! I had two more cups of soup, changed out of my tights and into my daytime clothes and off we went. The early morning light was already illuminating our surroundings, so we’d ditched our headlamps at Sherman, once again with Andy leading the way up Cataract Gulch.

Andy leading the way as we shuffle across the Cataract/Pole divide.

The fatigue was again crushing my pace, and despite my muscles feeling good I couldn’t get my legs to have any oomph uphill. On we trudged, along the cascading creek, past the fields of wild flowers and up to the Cataract/Pole divide. By this time the sun was fully shining on us, and I was able to muster a slower shuffle across the rolling boggy terrain, our feet were so wet from the rain, creek crossings and mud we no longer cared. We splashed our way into the Pole Creek AS (mm81, 8:43AM, 26:43), now mid morning, and Andy gave me the task of eating whatever solid food I could conceive of; more Fritos. We made good time across the easy rolling terrain out of Pole, but then came the short but steep climb into Maggie Gulch, and I ground to a halt. When we finally made it over the pass I was able to lay down a slow jog on the steep descent into the Maggie AS, pausing a few times to admire the spectacular array of wild flowers (mm85, 10:30AM, 28:30).

Views of the Grenadier Range from near Green Mountain.

Once in Maggie I knew I had to eat more than just Fritos, but nothing sounded overly appealing, so Andy just handed me half a dozen slices of turkey and said “Eat this”. So I did, and it actually tasted pretty darn good, so I had them make me a turkey sandwich, which I also ate. Then back to trudging, up the steep trail-less climb out of Maggie toward Canby Mt. I was losing time on every uphill, but my legs were still feeling strong so I was able to maintain a consistent and controlled stumble downhill. As we topped out on the shoulder of Green Mt it began to drizzle on us again, this soon turned into pea sized hail. We knew we were in a terribly exposed position perched high on the ridge at 13000ft, so I pushed as fast as I could down the steep muddy hillside into Cunningham Gulch. We finally broke out of the hail and back into the sun, oh Colorado, I love you, but you’re all too often drunk. We tiptoed our way down the precipitous descent into Cunningham, making sure as to arrive at the AS in one piece.

All smiles rolling in to Grouse Gulch. Photo by Kerwin Lee.

Taking a moment to retool and eat at Cunningham surrounded by friends and family.

For the first time all race it finally hit me that I was going to finish Hardrock, not just that I was capable of finishing, but that I was GOING TO FINISH. This thought really lifted my spirits and arriving down at the Cunningham AS (mm91, 1:11PM, 31:11) to a crowd of friends and my family put a smile on my face. I sat down in a chair and just took it all in for a second; the precipitous steep green mountains, the cascading waterfalls, the radiant wild flowers….. Then back to business; shoe change, drop all extraneous gear, eat another handful of turkey, another cup of soup. I turned to Stephanie, who would be pacing me the last 9miles, “Alright Stephanie, let’s get this thing done” and off we went, across the river and up the cruel climb that is Dives/Little Giant.

What lovely scenery….When does this climb end? Dives Basin, Photo by Stephanie Lynn.

I settled into a slow but steady death march up the endless switchbacks, doing my best to keep moving. My legs barely noticed the climb, but the general fatigue was dragging me down, I had to pause several times and hang my head just to muster the oomph to take another 30-40 steps. The saddle between Dives Basin and Little Giant Basin was a welcome sight…all downhill from here. Stephanie and I trotted off into yet another rain squall, but this time it didn’t matter. The quads were sore, my energy was low, but all I could think about now was kissing that rock, so I ‘Let it Go’ and bounded down the rocky jeep road. We caught up to Drew Gunn at the bottom of the descent, we’d shared much of the stormy night, and I encouraged him to push in those last few miles. The rolling traverse back into town is a blur; all I remember is emerging from the woods into Silverton and being completely overwhelmed by all the different feelings that hit me simultaneously; joy, satisfaction, excitement and lastly exhaustion. At 4:38PM on a Saturday afternoon I jogged up to the Hardrock and kissed it for the first time, “I’ve been waiting seven years to kiss this rock”, and the only other thing I could do was to lean against the rock and grin like an idiot.

Descending Little Giant Basin into yet another rain storm. Photo by Stephanie Lynn.

After seven years I finally get a chance to kiss the rock. 34:38:00, 20th overall.

Many have asked if Hardrock was everything I’d dreamed it would be after waiting seven years, my answer to that is “Yes and No”. My journey had not been smooth, it had not gone as planned, but I’d fought and given every ounce of energy I had to the course on that day (and a half). The scenery was spectacular, the climbs were never ending, the descents quad busting, but what makes Hardrock so special is the sense of family. Even as a first timer I felt accepted and as though I fit in. From the energized crowds at the top of Grant Swamp and in the AS, to the support from veterans such as Billy Simpson, Ted Mahon, Blake Wood and so on, Hardrock truly is a family affair. One does not complete Hardrock without the support of family, friends, pacers, crew, volunteers and the other runners. It’s a shared experience, whose beauty reaches beyond the jaw dropping scenery. To run Hardrock is to experience all of this in one long 22-48hour push, an experience that can’t be had simply being on the course.

Lottery gods willing I will return to Hardrock again one day (hopefully not another seven years), in hopes of correcting some of my mistakes and for an experience unlike any other. Two weeks after finishing my first Hardrock my legs feel surprisingly good, this past weekend I ran the 28mi Maroon Bells Four Pass loop on 7/26 and climbed the Maroon Bells on 7/27, it’s very bitter sweet. My nutritional deficiencies early in the race left me in a big hole, leading to the fatigue that plagued me during the latter half of the race. My training had been very good and I feel as though I left 2-4hours out there. So while I’m happy to have finished and to have gained the experience, I know I’m capable of better, thus will keep pushing myself to succeed. For now its back to what I do best, climb mountains. A special thanks to my parents for crewing me all through Hardrock, my pacers Andy and Stephanie for putting up with my trudging, whining and occasional bouts of song, and all the volunteers and supporters who made this year’s Hardrock such a wonderful experience. Lastly thanks to Hind Performance for clothing me and supporting my habits and Vfuel Endurance for helping to keep me fueled and my stomach happy. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

One of many stunning scenes, mountains and flowers along the Maroon Bells Four Pass Loop.

Making my way across the narrow ridge of the Maroon Bells Traverse.

Hardrock is now less than 25 days away and I am finally into taper mode. For those of you who have been around me the past four weeks you know training and running have completely overtaken my life, and while I usually like to run what I feel, when I feel, sometimes a more regimented training schedule is necessary, means to an end. In the past four weeks, 5/19-6/15, I completed 332.8miles and 98,600ft of elevation gain, that’s an average of 83.2miles/24,650ft of elevation gain per week. In the process I cracked 300,000ft of vertical for the year, woohoo! As my previous blog explained, this has been all consuming, so I’m very much looking forward to starting my taper (slowly) toward the Hardrock 100 on July 11^th.

With race season approaching for many of us we often forget to thank a very important part of our support crew, the friends and family who train along side us and support us through the week in and week out training sessions, long runs, uphill slogs and sometimes just plain painful outings. So thanks to all those who have put up with me and supported me over these past four weeks, especially; the Rocky Mountain Runners, Boulder Trail Runners, Charles, Jason, Misti, Chris, Andy B, Jessica and Dana. You all helped make some of those tough and tiring days on the trail much more enjoyable.

I’m very much looking forward to getting back to a more balanced life; complete with a little more socializing, some dancing and some volleyball. As always a special thanks to Vfuel Endurance for keeping my legs strong and body energized through all the miles and Hind Performance for supporting my adventures. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

Skiing with Andy and Jessica near Independence Pass, 5/24/14. Photo by Andy.

Rocky Mountain Runners relaxing the night before the Dirty Thirty 50k. Photo by Ryan Smith. 5/30/14.

Finishing strong after a tough 32mile run. Photo by Ryan Smith. 5/31/14.

Summit of Pikes Peak, just another lovely day at 14000ft. 6/8/14.

Ryan ‘running’ up the East Ridge of Bear Peak, Steep! 6/12/14.

Relaxing during a 38.6mile/8500ft run in the Lost Creek Wilderness, 6/14/14.

Dana skiing the North Couloirs on Missouri Mt, 6/15/14.

Early season ski tour with Andy & Jessica near Independence Pass. Cross training, 5/24/14.

Race: a competition or rivalry progressing towards a goal (Merriam Webster)

Relaxing the night before the Dirty Thirty. Photo by Ryan Smith.

Every person has there own intentions and goals when they sign up for an organized race and toe the start line. Some are out there to compete against their fellow runners, some to challenge themselves for a PR, others simply to finish and then a subset of all of the above who simply want to get out and enjoy the trails and the outdoors. My goal at the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty 50k (5/31/14) falls into the latter, to enjoy the trails with my fellow runners, log some good hard miles, but mainly to come out feeling strong in the end. With Hardrock looming just 5 weeks away, the Dirty Thirty would be a ‘training’ run for me, meaning a tune up and a test of my fitness, but not a race in the strictest sense of the word.

The weekend started out with a little acclimatization at 9200ft, where nearly twenty Rocky Mountain Runners and friends gathered for a pre-race night of camping, eating and relaxation. With the civil start time of 7am, I didn’t feel very rushed in the AM, always a bonus. As we all eased our way toward the start line I found my way right into the middle of the pack with the intention of going out at a fairly mellow pace and keeping it that way. Off we went, many people running hard, but I was in no rush. My goal was to treat this as a mini Hardrock; power hike all the uphills and only run the terrain I was hoping to run during Hardrock (<2% uphill grade).

Running through the aspens on the Dirty Thirty course.

Don’t get me wrong, hiking doesn’t mean I’m going slow, I’ve developed a mean power hike over the years and can average 3-4mph, so was keeping pace with most people as we climbed around the backside of Windy peak. As soon as the grade turned downward off I went, cruising down into Aid 1/4, passing people as I went. I continued this power hike up/ run down pattern which surprisingly found me steadily moving up in the field as every mile passed along. While others slowed and fatigued I kept steady, it’s always a good to feel strong and to pass people, I find it mentally uplifting. At several points I even forgot I was running as the trail meanders alongside creeks and through aspen groves with expansive views of the snow capped mountains in the background.

14ers Evans/Bierdstadt and Grays/Torreys as seen from the Dirty Thirty course.

As the day and the miles wore on the heat started to kick up a notch and I had to be much more conscious of staying hydrated and energized with a Vfuel every 30min. I even took several opportunities to dunk my head in the little streams, oh did that ever feel good. As we climbed back toward Aid 1/4 and the heat started to wear on me, so I slowed the pace a bit, “this is not a race, take care of yourself first”. I hit the final big climb of the day, Windy Peak, with decent strength in my legs and cold creek water dripping down my back.

Finishing strong after a tough 32mile run. Photo by Ryan Smith.

As we climbed up this final steep and sunny slope I came across one of my fellow RMR buddies, Jason Antin, and we chatted as we powered our way to the summit. It was nice to have someone to talk with for more than a brief moment, since I’d been passing people all day I hadn’t shared a pace with anyone for quite some time. From the summit we high-tailed it back down the steep rocky slope toward the finish, thunderclouds booming overhead and cooling us with a very light drizzle. We cruised up the final little climb and very soon found ourselves on the dirt road staring straight into the finish chute. I crossed the line in 6:36, 40min slower than my previous time of 5:57 many years ago, but I’d stuck to my goal of a strong and steady race and felt great about how I’d paced it. Jason was the only person all day who passed me and finished ahead of me, so that meant I’d done something right, slow and steady. It was a beautiful day, on a beautiful course, with so many great friends from the Colorado ultra community and specifically the Rocky Mountain Runners. Congrats to all those who ran and finished, and a special thanks to RD Megan Finnesy for putting on such an awesome race, it’s a relentless but beautiful course.

A short jaunt up Bear Peak the day after the race brought my one week training total to 83mi/25000ft vert, a solid Hardrock training week, setting me up for the ridiculousness to come. With two more big Hardrock training weeks ahead I’ve still got some work to do before its taper time, but am feeling very good about where my fitness sits at this moment. Special thanks to Vfuel endurance for fueling me through another bonk free day and Hind clothing for outfitting me for all my adventures. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

Oh Hardrock….

View of the Sierras and Yosemite enroute to the Bay Area. Can you find Half Dome?

As race day neared I knew my training hadn’t been ideal for the relentless rolling (but runnable) hills of Miwok as I’d been averaging a steep 15000-20000ft of gain a week, Hardrock-esque numbers. But the Miwok 100k would still be a great gauge of my fitness, on how my legs handled pounding the downhills, it would be a chance to visit family and of course the opportunity to run a beautiful variety of terrain in the Marin Headlands. So I hopped on a plane headed for my fifth state in 2014 (Washington, Utah, Mississippi, Massachusetts, now California). For me the day before the race is usually mellow, avoiding as much hoopla as possible; a stroll on the beach with my parents, dinner in Bolinas, a little race planning, then trying to get to bed early.

A little pre-race stroll along Stinson Beach.

Brendan and I at the start line before the 2014 Miwok 100k.

The alarm buzzed at 3:50AM, I quickly tossed on my clothes, scarfed down two poptarts and off we drove to the race start at Stinson Beach. The start was abuzz with hundreds of runners, exchanging pleasantries, but for me being the outsider it was nice to just sit back and take it all in. I briefly met up with Brendan, wished him good luck, and before I knew it we were packed in at the start line nervously awaiting the word. Then off we went, 10 full strides and stop….we’d bottle necked at a single track bridge, so much for a fast start. Once over the bridge I settled into a pretty casual climbing pace as we ascended the narrow Matt Davis trail in the pre-dawn hours. We finally broke treeline and banked left onto the coastal trail for the long ‘out and back’ section to the Randall TH. The narrow single track was somewhat frustrating, as I found myself walking on flat terrain numerous times as people slowly tiptoed across the slanted and tricky trail, but I just kept reminding myself I wasn’t there to race, but to enjoy the day and to test my legs, patients.

Cruising through the fog and the redwoods, is this Endor?

The single track finally widened onto the Bolinas Ridge fire road at the first AS, so I was able to stride out a bit more, picking off a dozen or so runners pretty quickly. As another runner, Jesse, and I cruised down the fire road, I found myself just staring up at the tree tops of the immense redwoods as the fog and first rays of sunlight percolated through the branches. I half expected to see ewoks just sitting on the side of the trail, but no luck today. Jesse and I opened it up on the downhill, I’d guess we were probably hitting 7min pace at some points, but it felt good to just run and the lungs were taking in the dense sea level air without issue. I met up with my parents at the Randall AS (mm13), grabbed a few Vfuel gels, some water, and took off running back up the hill. I realized this was a bit ambitious so I settled into a more conservative walk/jog mix, cheering on all the other runners now coming counter flow to me, and boy were there a lot of them.

Jesse and I bombing into the Randall AS at mm13.

Running the Bolinas Ridge around mm17 of the Miwok 100k. Stinson Beach far below.

From the Randall TH to Cardiac (mm20) was by far my favorite seven miles of the race; giant redwoods shrouded in fog giving way to open grassy hillsides with ocean views and a few dense stands of mossy hardwoods for variety. I felt like a kid in a candy store, a new sweet view with each turn, and I definitely let out a few “Weeeee’s” along the way. (just for you Amanda JHS). After reaching the Cardiac AS I took the governor off and again let the legs flow down the Deer Park fire road, settling into a more conservative trot along the flat paved section (due to trail closures) before reaching Muir Beach (mm31.5).

Reloading at the Muir Beach AS #1, still feeling strong.

Muir Beach was bustling with a mix of runners, crews and the daily tourist enjoying the sand and waves. I again met up with my parents, quickly resupplied my Vfuel stock, then was headed back up Middle Green Gulch enroute to Tennessee Valley. I could feel a little fatigue building in my legs, so to stay true to my original goal I reigned in the pace, alternating jogging and walking the climb before once again bombing down into Tennessee Valley. The day was warming up and over the next 20miles we’d be fully exposed to the sun, so when the aid station volunteers offered to sponge me down I answered with an emphatic YES! It felt so good to get the salt off (I get pretty crusty on warm days). As I circumnavigated the Marin headlands, view of the Pacific on one side, Bay on the other and Golden Gate Bridge/San Francisco to the South I couldn’t help but marvel at the diversity of terrain and views we’d experienced already.

Running/walking the trail high above Pirates Cove, Arrr there be a sea breeze.

Passed the Bridge View AS (mm41) I could feel the sun taking its toll and knew I needed to both cool off and to drink a little more as I climbed from the Rodeo Lagoon back up to the ridge. As I passed through Tennessee Valley for the 2^nd time (mm49), I sank to my low point of the day, struggling my way around the gently rolling terrain above Pirate’s Cove and down to Muir Beach #2 (mm53). Here I took some extra water and salt caps, and spent a moment sponging myself off. I didn’t realize how big a hole I’d dug myself into until I began to jog my way up the sunny windless paved section, my head began to spin, my balance went and I had to sit down several times along the road and on the Deer Park fire road just to regroup. When this began I took two S-caps, and chugged half my water, now all I could do was keep toughing it out one step at a time and hope that would rebalance me.

Beautiful cruiser section of the Dipsea, not pictured, 50+ stairs along the way.

8-10 runners passed me by while I plodded on up the hill, but I was in no state to push back…yet. With about half a mile to the AS the rehydration finally kicked in, my mental faculties and balance returned and off I went jogging up the fire road and into the Cardiac AS (mm58). I was back to ‘normal’, so after a quick refill decided it was time to finish strong, despite my 7mile crash and burn that had cost me 30-40min and 8 places. I pushed the legs down the Dipsea trail, bounding down the stairs and eventually came flying out the trailhead making one last turn before hitting the finish line. That may have been one of the strongest ultra finishes I’ve ever had (all 3 miles of it), and my legs had a surprising amount of pop left, a good omen with Hardrock looming big in July.

Pushing hard to the finish line of the Miwok 100k.

In all my Miwok race may not have been perfect, but it was exactly what I was looking for and what I needed. A beautiful day on some spectacular trails, tons of views, met some great new people, learned some lessons, and enjoyed almost every minute of it (being dizzy wasn’t fun). This was my first crack at the 100km distance, and I must say I really like it. A good hard all day effort, but in the end there is still time to share the afternoon with your fellow runners, enjoy a beer, eat dinner and go to bed. As I write this four days after the race my legs are feeling good and ready to hit the trails for five weeks of intensive Hardrock training….. starting next week. These tune up races, a race where one doesn’t try to run themselves into the ground, are great prepration for an upcoming big dance. Summer is on its way and I couldn’t be more excited for high mountain vistas, thin air and sharing the trails with all my friends. Special thanks to Vfuel endurance for fueling me through a bonk free day and Hind performance clothing for outfitting me for all my adventures. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

A little photo/video slideshow from my run at Miwok.

On February 27^th I caught a plane headed back down South to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and my new nephew Ryan (6weeks old!)…oh and to try and defend my surprise win at last year’s Carl Touchstone Mississippi 50. I was excited to see family and excited for a chance to splash in some mud puddles and run in non-snowy/icy conditions for the first time in a while. Trail running in Colorado from December through March consists of snow, ice, mud and every once and a while some dirt, needless to say suboptimal conditions for long distance training.

Playing with my new little nephew Ryan.

Two weeks out from the race I was hit with a nasty case of the flu which had me sleeping 12-15h/day and running ‘0’ miles over a 5 day span. Not really the ideal way to taper, but I guess I can say I got a lot of rest, right? The week before the race I felt ok, but still a bit tired and not 100%, all I could hope for was that come race day everything would be right. After a relaxing pre-race day hanging with family I drove myself up to Laurel, checked in for the race and sat by myself eating my pasta, salad and brownies at the pre-race dinner. Something about dropping into an unfamiliar race scene is very calming for me, no hype to get caught up in, no need to ‘make the rounds’ saying hello, just eat and relax.

Running the soft white sand beaches of the Gulf Coast near Gulfport.

It was soon morning, I packed up my gear and left the hotel for the start line in the Desoto NF. The temperature was a very comfortable 50F in the pre-dawn darkness, an omen of warmer things to come. The crowd very casually gathered at the start line, exchanged pleasantries and we were soon headed off down the dirt road by the hazy light of dawn. The winner of the 50k took off ahead, and soon a pack of 6-8 of us settled in around 8min pace for the long haul. Other than the occasional pleasantry we ran in silence, just the crunching leaves underfoot and an occasional splash through a muddy creek crossing. The first two 12.5mile laps went smoothly, though I could tell my body was fatigued from the flu and I was working harder than I’d have liked.

As I pushed my pace around lap #3 (running in 1^st place) the heat started to kick in and the sun cooked up the moisture and humidity. I’ve never been much for hot weather, especially when I’ve been training in 10-30F temps for most of the winter. As I finished the third lap, 38miles into my day, I could tell the temperature and fatigue were taking their toll. I was overheating and slowing down, still with two short 6miles laps to go. The last twelve miles were a trudge, and as the temps pushed into the high 70s, all of us on course cooked in the afternoon sun. At mile 41 the eventual winner cruised on past me, but that would be the only person to pass me by. Despite my melt down I was able to hang on to 2^nd place, running a 7:37:53, a few minutes slower than my winning time in 2013, and far slower than I’d hoped for this year, being far better trained.

Accepting my 2nd place award at the 2014 Mississippi 50.

While I didn’t feel good when I finished, it felt good to finish. I learned very early in my ultrarunning career that every race and each day is different, sometimes things go smoothly, other times there is more adversity to deal with, seldom is any race the same, even on the same course. Today the above average temps hit me hard and forced me to just ‘hang in there’ for the last twelve miles, I’d underestimated the heat and paid for it, but still managed to hold on for 2^nd place. I’ve always enjoyed the small local hometown races, and the Mississippi 50 definitely fits the bill. I’ve enjoyed meeting some of the locals, experiencing new trails (even the mud) and of course getting to see family. And now my 2014 race season is rolling, next up the Miwok 100k in May, this time I’ll be ready for the heat of California. Special thanks to Hind clothing for supporting my adventures and to Vfuel for fueling the long days on the trail. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

A little post-race recovery on 3/9/14, ski touring near Rollins Pass in the CO high country.