Woodstock 100 Mile Thoughts

About to start, Ryan Case showing how relaxed he is

My thought process during the race.

First loop

"Wow my heart rate is too high, whatever, I'll just keep going"

"That guys going too fast, I'm going too fast, we're all going too fast!"

"This duct tape feels weird now that my feet are sweating"

"Eat solid food"

"Hugh has sweet vertical runner gear"


Second Loop

"Hoka, Hoka, Hoka"

"I'm hot, I think I'll take off my shirt"

"Just a light rain, no big deal"

"I'm cold, I think I'll grab a shirt"

"Stop thinking and run"

"Why are these roctaines so chunky (gag)"


Third Loop

"Crap I'm cold"

"Eat solid food"

"Woah, Hokas are like ice skates in mud"

"There's my Dad, smile like you're still having fun"

"This jacket will keep me warm"


 Fourth Loop

"This jacket is not keeping me warm"

"Holy crap it's raining so hard my headlamp is almost useless"

"Totally exposed to the storm on this rail trail"

"I think I stepped on a frog"

"These shoes aren't draining at all"

"I'm so cold"

"I'm so cold"

"My feet are melting"

"I don't care if I'm in first, I quit"

"I hope Ryan and Jenny understand, I just can't keep going"

"How the hell do I get this poncho on?"

"Why am I putting this poncho on?"

Time of day per lap.  We started at 4pm (Photo Don Lindley)

Fifth Loop

"How did I end up back out on the trail again?"

 "These speedcrosses are way better"

"Die mud"

"How did I end up on the trail again?"

"Run damnit, no walking"

"Case is coming"

"These saltine crackers are so dry"

"Just keep talking to Jenny (my pacer), time will move faster that way"


Sixth Loop

"Hey there's Mike"

"Hey there's Jason"

"I think Jason just hugged me"

"Run, Damnit"

"Where did my pacer go?"

"Run that hill"

"Vanilla gel taste good?!?!?!"

"Fuel all the way to the finish"

"Case is coming, no walking"

"Its almost over!"

"Its over."

"Chair!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Chair!!!!!! (Photo Don Lindley)

Ok that was some fun "thought vomit" from the race.  Real stuff is down here.  It was a great experience.  Came into the race feeling more mentally and physically prepared than I have for any race.  Some of this excitement died off when I noticed the weather forecast becoming more and more foreboding. 

I decided I was going to fight my cautious nature and go out with the lead pack and just see if I could outlast those guys.  It was a  pleasure to spend the first couple loops in the company of several other tremendous runners, all of whom were on a mission to kick ass and push their own individual limits.  In retrospect, with such a long race, through running with/against one another, we aren't necesarily competing with each other so much as with ourselves, and using the community experience to allow us to reach our limits.

In the end, I think the weather got a lot of people, and it nearly got me.  The start was 80 degrees and humid and then it dropped down to 48 during the night and continued to rain from 8pm till 5-6am.  My crew saved me from a DNF by sitting me in front of a heater for 25 minutes at an aid station and getting dry socks/shoes and a poncho onto me, before literally shoving me back out into the rain and telling me they'd see me again in 8 miles.  While I didn't every fully recover from the butt kicking I took out in the storm, it was relatively smooth sailing from then on.  At some point I became aware that my buddy Ryan Case was giving chase, and I forced quite a bit more running out of my legs than I usually am capable of over the last 25 miles or so.  I guess this is "running scared".

Mohican 100 Report

Spoiler alert - I finished.  Thanks to my awesome crew

Well its over, its done.  Another 100 in the books.  Mohican was everything advertised; challenging and scenic terrain, with a great sense of community.  And lots of beer. 

Following Gnawbone, my preparation for Mohican was going fantastically, logging weeks of 120 miles, 150 miles and 115 miles.  But it was at the end of this cycle, that I believe I made a mistake that put my race in jeopardy.  Coming down with a sinus cold, I raced the dexter-ann arbor half marathon, in the middle of a heavy training week, at about an all out effort.  I had hoped this would be a good speed workout, but in retrospect, it took too much out of my legs.  Maybe it sounds strange to say that, considering I feel like I am recovered from racing 50 miles after 2 weeks, but I guess my body just isn’t adapted to recover from a high intensity effort like a half marathon.  Anyways, every run after the half marathon, my quads would begin to ache after about 40-50 minutes.  To me, this was a classic sign of being overtrained, although maybe not severely.  I figured this would go away after a few runs, but it persisted all the way up to my last run on Wednesday before Mohican. 

Well, two more days rest and I figured I would be good to go, but in the back of my mind, I felt not 100% confident, very dangerous when approaching a 100 mile race. 

My crew and I arrived with plenty of daylight to spare on Friday, packet pick up went smoothly, and I had plenty of time to say hi to everyone I knew before dropping off the drop bags and hitting the hay.  

I woke up at 2:45, well ahead of my 3:30 alarm, but decided to go with it, and ate my two bagels with peanut butter and a banana.  I thought that would give me plenty of time to digest my breakfast as well as focus my brain.  The start came sooner than I expected, and before I knew it, I was saying adios to my crew, and trying to figure out where to stand in the masses. 

We took off into the darkness, headlamps slowly becoming helpful as we headed into the woods.  I chatted with Jason for a while, passed some people on a road section before heading into the tight single track, and settled in for the day.  In my short pockets I was carrying 4 gels, a ziplock baggy of salts, a ziplock with pretzel M&Ms, and I carried two waterbottles, one 26oz and one 20oz.  The 20oz contained my coke/sports drink mixture with about 300 calories while the other bottle contained water.  My crew was going to meet me at aid stations with fresh bottles, one containing water and one with sports drink mix.  

Shortly before the firetower aid, I found a couple guys to chat with and time moved rather quickly.  Past firetower, we began the 1st of our 2 long loops.  This section of trail had some nice descents, as well as a section of two gravel two track that allowed for the field to spread out a little more. 

Thanks Wikipedia

I made sure to keep eating, gels, and M&Ms on the first loop, along with a couple bottles of mix.  With the group I was with, we moved though some of the more interesting sections on the long loop, came into the Covered Bridge aid station, where I was happy to see familiar faces in Jay and Seth.  In and out, quickly onto what I thought was the best section of trail all day.  Lots of uphill, and smooth winding downhills to compliment.  Hickory ridge aid station was next, and I was in and out as quick as possible, and headed towards the start/finish.  On this section I was moving well, but started to notice some tightness or soreness in the vastus medialis of my quadriceps muscles.

At the start/finish aid I complained briefly to anyone around me that my quads were hurting too early, and was reworded with encouragement and a reminder from Farra that there is more to a leg than the quads.  Use the rest of your muscles dummy.  So I ran on, and tried to settle back onto my haunches a little to utilize my glutes and hamstrings more.

It is hard to express the sort of mental state I was in.  I was worried, disappointed, and unhappy that my quads were going so early, somewhat angry with myself for pushing too hard too close to such a big race, and soon thoughts of dropping and saving myself for another day were creeping into my brain.  I mean, at about 30 miles, if you're not feeling good, its easy to get overwhelmed with the thought of 70 more miles of torture.  Here, my crew saved my day.  They never let the thoughts of quitting become more than thoughts, anytime I saw them, they were cheery and genuinely encouraging.  That, and I am a proud S.O.B. who didn't want to let his friends see him quit. 

So I ran, and ran some more.  Then I ate some gels, drank some pop, and ran some more.  As it heated up, I popped S!caps every 45-60 minutes, and drank lots of water.  I caught some 50 mile guys and ran with them for a while.  It helped pass the time.  Soon I was at Covered Bridge again, always gaining some momentum from seeing familiar faces.  Here I grabbed my hydration pack, and dropped the faithful bottles that had served me well so far that day.

By mile 50, I had caught several more people and was told I was 3rd male, with Connie Gardner, David Lister, and someone from the West coast, out in front.  Surprised, as I was being somewhat negative still, I slipped past a couple more 50 mile or marathon runners, and headed for the start/finish aid station.

54  miles down, only a few more to go

I think it was here that my day started to turn around.  I saw a lot of friendly faces.  Ryan Case was there, reporting he had crushed the 50 mile in under 8 hours, which got me a little fired up and motivated to get my own race crushing done.  Hydration pack filled, Mountain Dew in my shoulder bottle, I was out the door, and finally starting to accept that my legs were going to fight me all the way to the finish line.

I power hiked anything remotely technical or steep.  It seemed to be helping me save  my quads for runnable terrain.  I grabbed a turkey sandwich and it somehow lifted my spirits.  This was my que that I needed more real food, and began searching aid stations for ramen, chips, and the occasional sandwich bite.  By the time I came into firetower aid, grabbed pizza and Ensure from Jenny and Ryan, and I was running like a mad man, and went tearing into the woods, finally finding a mental high and determined to ride it for as long as I could.  This next section was a technical series of short ups and downs, with an overall cumulative decent, which finally pushed my quads over the limit.  Soon after Covered Bridge, I tripped and did what I called turtle-ing where I landed on my full hydration pack and was stunned/stuck on my back with my arms and legs sticking out at angles.  Laughing a little bit at myself and glad I didn't sustain any serious injuries, I moved as fast as I could.  I was now 2nd male, and only had Connie Gardner and West Coast ahead of me.

Alas, I was not meant to keep moving up in the standings.  A runner who must have also been struggling early on, came flying by me on a downhill near mile 75, as I gingerly gimped my way down the steep decline.  He looked great, gave me some friendly words and I wished him well.  By this point in the race I was rooting for everyone else, and I hope the feeling was mutual.  

The plan had been, that at mile 76 I would pick up my pacer, Ryan, for a 10 mile stint until I reached firetower.  Most of it was hiking, and I didn't have a lot to say, but Ryan did exactly what a pacer should do;  remain positive, give your runner small goals to run towards, and help motivate them by finding other runners to catch.  Now on my fourth and final loop, I managed to reel in Connie Gardner, with what was destined to be some of my last real running of the day. 

 I also ran into my Mom, who had picked up more pizza for me.  I dunno what it is, but a slice of pizza on the run just works so good for me. Everything else after mile 90 was a shuffle/jog/power hike.  My Fenix headlamp worked great, but because I was not lifting my toes well, I stumbled quite frequently when attempting to jog.  In retrospect, my power hike might have been just as fast as the shuffle/jog.  I was power hiking past many runners on their 3rd loops without having to run.

The last downhills to the finish were brutal.  Painful on the feet, painful on the legs, painful on my brain.  But I knew I was going to be done soon, and was so close to the finish.  And then it was over.  I sank into a folding chair, exhausted, legs so tight I couldn't even manage to pull on my sweat pants.  After a good 6 hours of sleep, we headed back to the race start and cheered in the other runners and sat around making small talk. 

The next morning I hung around, had a beer, 2 quarter pounders with cheese and a large fry.  So good, something that I hadn't eaten since Kettle Moraine, over a year ago.  

Jason looking good after running 100 miles

Now looking back on what was Mohican, I can honestly say I gave my best effort that I was capable of that day.  I still am not sure if I ran the best race I could have, and definitely feel like I made a few mistakes leading up to the race.  Racing the Half was fun, but stupid, so I will learn from that.  Otherwise I was pleased with my race prep.  After Oil Creek going so well and experiencing few lows, I was slightly afraid to run another 100, as Kettle was such a learning experience.  Mohican, similar to Kettle, beat me down hard, but I survived, and maybe learned that just because I have some mental (and physical) lows, I can still perform.

3rd place!

Maybe a little more scouting would have helped.  I underestimated the terrain at Mohican.  It was quite a bit rockier in parts than I expected.  It seemed to have very runnable sections, and then sections that were incredibly steep and/or rocky and/or stupid. 

Things that went right:  stomach only annoyed when I took a couple bites of a krispy kreme pie, hydration was spot on, salt intake adequate, headlamps worked nice, 2toms anti-chaffing worked amazing.

Things that went wrong:  quads went too early, feet weren't prepared for rocky terrain (shoes mostly), had some GI issues early on, mentally was not excited about racing for the first 30-40 miles.

Food:  mostly gels and clif bloks, 2 ensures, 2 slices of pizza, 3 cups of ramen, 1/2 a turkey sandwich, 2 bags of pretzel M&Ms, 15 Scaps, 3-4 bottles of Mtn Dew, 3-4 bottles Gu Brew.

I really like to think I can run under 20 hours on the course, and next year, I am going to find out.

Dances with Dirt Gnawbone

3rd time is a charm

"You gotta be able to smile through all this bullshit"  - Tupac

Last year I elected to run the Ice Age 50 mile instead of signing up for Dances with Dirt Gnawbone so that I could get some time in on the Kettle Moraine course.  This year, I decided to sign up for Gnawbone so I could destroy myself, trash my legs, and (hopefully) rise from the ashes.

Gnawbone and I have some history.  As a virgin ultrarunner, inexperienced trail runner, and new marathon runner, in 2009, I signed up for the 50k at Gnawbone without really understanding what it was.  I knew it was 6 miles further than a marathon, but beyond that I was totally unprepared.  The 50k beat me to a pulp.  I ran way too fast in the beginning, didn't drink or eat enough and was crushed by mile 20 (I wore Gore-tex shoes?).  A paramedic sat me down, took my blood pressure and made me drink and eat before letting me continue.  Somewhere on a long long staircase I remember sitting down, and wanting to cry.  I was beat and I knew it.  Somehow by some miraculous circumstance I continued plodding forward, barely walking, mostly staggering.  I finished, and was rewarded with the most incredible feeling.  I was ready to give up, I was beat, and still I managed to keep pushing (walking/stumbling) towards the finish line.  I was elated; still to this day, I am 100% positive that overcoming these types of challenges is what continues to draw me to endurance sports and what has made me fall in love with ultrarunning.

I returned to Gnaw in 2010 for another 50k attempt, and with a little more knowledge and a few more trail runs under my belt, I succeeded in running a race without being beat to a pulp.  I also met Jason a little more than half way through the run and gained a great new friend.

Now I am an experienced trail runner.  I know this in my heart, even if my head sometimes has its doubts.  I was ready for a challenge.  The 50 mile.  From years past I remember the expressions of pain on the 50 milers faces as they stumbled across the finish line, and I wanted that to be me.

Having expressed my interest in the race back in early February I made plans to stay at Scott Breeden's place in Bloomington, which is super close the Brown County.  After a crazy long, exhausting week of experiments in the lab, I jumped into my car, drove to Bloomington and picked up Scott so that we could meet other friends of ours at packet pickup.  We hung out for a little while, where Beau (buddy from Louisville) and Pius met us. I stuck around long enough to run into Chris Beck who I hadn't seen in forever and Aaron as well.  

Then we were back in Bloomington, at a nice Italian place having dinner with - you guessed it - more awesome runners.  I had a good pasta dish with a Basil Pesto sauce.  The sauce was a touch richer than I would have liked, but it was delicious.  They also had fannnntastic bread.  Sooo good, dipped in olive oil.  Our table of 8 runners put down at least 8 baskets of bread.  

Fast forward to race morning.  I had a bagel with some nutella for breakfast - about half of what I usually eat, but I opted for more sleep versus waking up earlier for a bigger breakfast.  After saying hello to everyone, we took our places for the 6:15 am start (seriously too early).  The course moves along a road for the first mile or so until you hit a big muddy climb with downed trees.  This year I made sure to get out in the front group of runners so that I could move without obstruction up the hill.  

Honestly, I crested the hill way too fast, and found myself racing along some two track trail with Ryan Case, a friend from Michigan.  We carried on a conversation while taking a look at the other runners who were near us.  As far as I could tell we were in 1st and 2nd.  Soon we ran past Ogle Lake just as the fog was starting to burn off, which was about the only moment of beauty I enjoyed all day.  

Ogle Lake - photo credit Aaron Schneider

We moved in a small pack, breaking up a little bit when one person stopped at an aid station or what not.  I knew I was running too fast, but I wanted to get some money in the bank for when we had to bushwack.  I was feeling a touch of pain and tiredness in my quads.  Oh great, we hadn't even reached the 10.8 mile drop bag stop.  I also noticed my nipple was chafing quite painfully, I must not have covered it properly with duct tape.  

At the drop bag, I took off my shirt as quickly as I could and jumped right back onto the trail.  It was here that Josh Wopata caught up to me, and explained he had started late.  I ran and chatted with him for a little while, but man that guy is fast (he ended up winning in 7:30).  I soon had to beg off, and was running by myself, at my own pace for a while.

I/we bushwhacked, we ran, we hiked, we complained, and we got to the 20 mile drop bag.  Not needing anything Ryan and I cruised right through, ran a brief stint on the roads, and then started a nice long descent down some beautiful two track.  On this descent my legs started feeling better and I remarked to Ryan that this run was tough, but fair.  Then we came to the bottom of the hill where three other trails met up.  AND NO PINK FLAGS.  I knew what that meant.  We missed a turn, and probably just ran all the way down this long slope for no reason.  Even worse, we had to go back up.  And we did.  And my legs groaned and grunted but we ran the whole dang thing, as punishment for our mistake.  And sure enough, there was a marked turn into the bush.

In this section you just kinda run through leaves, there is no trail, over and under downed trees and hope you don't twist an ankle or run straight into a tree.  I did the latter.  My hat caught a low hanging branch, and with the panicked feeling of having my head twisted I thought of nothing but my head.  And then I ran into a tree.  The most painful part was that I made first contact with my kneecap.  Well, I grunted, told Ryan I was fine and got through the rest of this section.  Soon we were back on the trails near ogle lake, and in my opinion, came to the most terribly marked section.  Somehow, someway, we found the correct trail (after trying several other trails), and ran past the nature center, into the raccoon ridge campground, and past the decision point.  50 mile this way!  DONT EVEN THINK, just go towards the 50 mile sign.  

It was along this section that Ryan and I both admitted hurting and realizing we were about half way done.  The concept of "racing" was more or less gone, it was now a battle between the trails and my will power.  Luckily, mile 26-30 were some of the nicest trails all day.  At mile 30 I swapped out my Crosslites for a pair of Asics Gel Fuji's and my legs instantly felt revitalized.  This reminded me of something Jason had said about going from heavy to light shoes as opposed to the opposite.  

I was climbing strong again, descending stupid and generally feeling good.  But I did notice I hadnt peed for a long time.  A couple hours maybe.  If you know me, you know that is a long time.  I kept drinking as much as I could, but even with 2 20oz bottles I was coming into aid stations with empty bottles. Sometime along here, Ryan told me he was going to back off a little bit and would meet me at the finish line.  I wished him luck and continued on.  I continued to eat gels, but then the nausea started to set in.  I had flash backs to Winona Lake, where I was forced to a jog due to stomach issues and decided to be very careful.  I decided that it was dehydration and my body couldn't/wouldn't absorb the gels in my stomach until I got enough water in.  At the next aid station I downed 3 cups of water and a cup of Gatorade and had them fill my bottles with water.  

I was starting to fade as I came to the long stair section.  Both my bottles were empty and I knew I had at least 10-15 minutes before I came to another aid.  There was a long stair section.  I love stairs.  I started running up them.  I  hit my shin and fell flat on my face and just laid there, cramps rifling through my hamstrings.  OK, get up, keep moving.  I came into the mile 44.5 aid station and realized I was going to miss my goal of coming in under 8 hours.  But I also stopped and drank a ton of fluids (mostly water) and started to feel rejuvenated.  Then, at the mile 47.5 aid, I glanced at my watch and thought 7:43, I have 27 minutes to run the last 2.5 miles, I can do that!!!    

Ultra-math - during an ultra ones ability to do complicated math in their head is completely lost.  Even the simplest addition or subtraction becomes a task.  Yeah, I had 17 minutes, not 27 minutes to run that last 2.5 miles.  But I still laid it all out there and pushed with whatever my legs allowed.  By the time I realized my error I was so close to the finish I continued pushing - running up and through the river section towards the finish line in 8:07.  Despite not coming in under 8 hours, I couldn't help but smile.  I was bloodied and bruised, but once I was rehydrated I had a nice surge of energy at the end of the race, giving me confidence for future races.

Post race chillin

We sat around and drank beer, ate food, made jokes, cheered and jeered and laughed.  Solid trail runner socializing.  

I am so proud of all my friends who ran what has to be one of the more gnarly races in the midwest.  Beau who took a nasty nasty fall but didn't stop.  Aaron on his first 50 mile.  Suzi running an impressive 6 hour 50k.  Don never seems to give up.  Rebecca for running her first marathon.  Chris for getting back in the game with style.  Arden for continuing to improve.  Jason who is "out of shape" but still running top 10.  Ryan who is starting to scare me.  Bryan Fairchild who carried/dragged/ran over 5 kids on his way to the finish line. 

Scott's guests

Recovery has gone very well, better then I had dared hope.  I am finding myself unbelievably excited for TNF Mohican 100 mile during my evening trail runs this week.