San Diego 100, 2016: Lost Boy Edition

As usual, life was hectic leading up to the race. I was finishing my last rotation of medical school, and we were getting ready to move across the country to transition onto active duty as a PGY-1. Three of our children were finishing the soccer season, and I was coaching my youngest son’s team. It seems like nothing is ever convenient, so despite the busy schedule and big changes ahead, I stuck to my goal of training to run in San Diego.  I was motivated by the fact that the race was in my hometown, I had DNF’ed last year due to lack of training (and thus wanted/needed redemption), and figured with residency about to begin, this may be the last race I would be able to run for a while.

My goal leading up to the race was to get six solid weeks of training in (3- 2 week blocks, with 1 week rest in between each).  I had done very little running since a DNF at Sean O’Brien in February, so I spent the first two weeks (the last two weeks of April) ramping my mileage back up. I managed to get 80 miles in on the second week and was feeling good. After a recovery week, I was able to put in 83 miles and 100 miles in the next block (which was pretty tough considering I had to start my runs at 4 am on most days). After another recovery week, I put in over 100 miles the first week of the last block, but that would prove to be the end of training/beginning of taper. We decided somewhat last minute to move ourselves instead of having the military do it for us, so that last week of training turned into a week of packing and prepping for the move!

After a stressful week of packing and loading (all of which couldn’t have been done without all the help from our ward friends at church), my friend Shawn and I took off in a 26’ ft Penske bound for the east coast. We left Friday morning and arrived on Monday in the middle of a tropical rain storm. We wasted no time, and with the help of friends from our new ward in Virginia, we unloaded the truck in the rain before heading to a hotel in Norfolk so we could catch an early flight back to Vegas the next morning.

June 1^st was a crazy day. We dropped the kids off for their final day of school, went back to the house to get our final things out and do our final walk through before picking the kids up at noon! We scrambled until the last minute getting all our things out of the house/shoved into the U-Haul trailer we would be towing across the country. After picking up the kiddos, we hit the road and made it to San Diego later that night (not before keeping a promise to my kids though to stop at Donut Corner in Escondido for some of the world’s best!). The next morning I went for a run up Cowles Mountain to shake things out and see how I was feeling. I made sure to mix in some climbing, some downhill, and a couple fartleks just to stimulate all the different muscle fibers and memory that had been rather dormant over the past week and a half.

Luckily my in-laws live less than an hour from the start line in Lemon Grove, so I was able to get a decent night sleep in before waking up at 3:45 am. After warming up a quick bowl of oatmeal, my wife and I jumped in the mini-van (sans U-Haul) and headed up to Cuyamaca. I dawned some sun block, kissed my wife for good luck, and waited at the start. After some wise words from RD Scott Mills, we were off!

Start to Paso Picacho (0-7.5)

Due to the lost final week of training, I was a bit uncertain of how things would go on race day. Nevertheless, I knew I had banked some solid training, and with this being my 4^th 100 miler, I had some experience under my belt to rely on. I knew I had to be extra conservative in the beginning of the race for a couple of reasons: 1. I had gone out to too aggressively at SOB in February, blew up and had to DNF. 2. As mentioned, I lost my final week of training due to the move.  I knew if I went out strong and started feeling fatigued early on, the mental aspect would have gotten to me. I could almost hear myself at mile 30 saying ‘you are tired because you missed that last week of training, you went out too hard again and now you are screwed!’. I knew I had to avoid this exact scenario, so I didn’t worry much when people started passing me up the initial climb. I was content keeping an eye on my heart rate and being happy with the fact that I was actually running the San Diego 100!

Paso Picacho to Chambers (7.5-12.5)

I had two amphipod 20 oz bottles tucked in the back of my shorts, one with cold water, and the other with Vitargo. I didn’t drink much of either through mile 7.5 to the first aid at Paso Picacho so I only stopped their briefly for a sip of water, and to dump some cold water on my head. My mind wandered back to last year’s race and I remembered watching champion and coach Bob Shebest leave the aid as I had arrived, which served as yet another reminder to take it easy and not run beyond myself (which is exactly what I did at last year’s race). I headed up the rock wall with a couple runners up in front of me but they soon disappeared as I kept an eye on my HR. It was tough to continually have to check myself, but I was committed to playing it safe this early on. I had found in my long training runs that keeping my HR around 135 for the majority of the run allowed me to have enough stamina toward the end to minimize slowing and finish the run strong, so I was shooting to keep within a couple beats of this number for the first 50 miles.

Chambers to Sunrise (12.5-21)

Miles 7.5 to 12.5 were rather uneventful (and luckily there was no course vandalism to throw us off this year just before Chambers). After filling my bottles at Chambers, one of the volunteers suggested I jump in the lake for some pro-active cooling. She said she had done the race multiple times and did this every year. I took a look at the water, thought about it for a second, but decided it would be too much work so I opted to keep moving. A few miles down the road, I realized it may not have been a bad idea, however, as things were warming up quickly. I had already noticed a couple of changes to the course as opposed to last year, one of them being no aid station between Chambers and Sunset 1, which would have been nice. I arrived at Sunset 1 feeling good, but warm. I regret the decision to not pick up my third water bottle at this aid station for extra cooling and hydration. I had set one in my drop bag for this exact reason, in case the temps were high enough at that point in the day to warrant it. Hind sights always 20-20, right?

Sunrise 1 to Pioneer Mail 1 (21-28.2)

I kept moving and over the next segment to Pioneer Mail 1 got passed by several runners. At this point, from past experience running 100’s and running in the heat, I knew most of these runners would come back to me later on. I just kept plugging away, slow and steady. When I reached Pioneer 1 I was certain to grab my third bottle as it was definitely hot at this point in the game. I spend a couple minutes eating some fruit at the aid and icing myself down before heading out. This is where I dropped at last year’s race, so I was patting myself on the back for officially making it farther this time around ;)

I may have taken in a bit too much food/fluid at the aid, cause my belly was now feeling somewhat bloated. I decided to pop some homemade salt pills and continue to take it easy to avoid any potential GI issues (which we all know can all but ruin a race). Eventually, things settled down a bit and I was cruising along. A few miles into this section I was feeling REALLY glad I picked up that third amphipod bottle for intermittent cooling. It was kind of annoying having to carry it in my hand the whole time, but still well worth it in my opinion. I can’t overstate the importance of cooling when it’s hot out. Having done my training in the Las Vegas desert, I know all too well what the heat can do to you if you aren’t prepared. Once while training for Tahoe Rim Trail 2015, I set out on what I had planned to be a 35 mile training run. I ended up running out of fluid and cooling 3 miles out from the nearest water source, in the mid-day heat (temps in the triple digits). I barely made it to the park at mile 26.5, and had to call my wife to come pick me up (2^nd time I ever I have had to do this). The next day, I made sure to learn from my mistake, took my 2L Nathan hydration pack, along with a 20 oz amphipod specifically for cooling. I was able to complete the 35 mile course in triple digit heat with 5,500 ft of climbing at a pace just over 10 min/mi. Like I said, cooling makes all the difference. Alright, getting back to the race. By the time I had reached Pine Creek AS, I had passed a few runners (moved up to 23^rd place from 29^th back at Pioneer Mail 1, aww yeah!). My prediction some miles back would hold true, as this trend would continue over the next 35 miles.

Pine Creek to Penny Pines 1 (36.2-43.8)

At Pine Creek, there were a few guys that were obviously suffering from the heat, spending a lot of time trying to cool off. I was able to get in and out of there relatively quickly, and moved up a couple places in the process. The climb up to Penny Pines was probably the toughest part of the race, climbing 2,000 ft in 7.6 miles. Not super steep, but steep enough, along with the heat, to take its toll. I averaged a 15 min/mi pace during this section. At one point, I decided to wet my hat and shirt in a small stream. Turns out it was a bad idea. The water must not have been very clean, cause for the next several miles, the flies were buzz’in all around me, which was quite annoying. This was never an issue previously, so I figured it must have been the water. Lesson learned. I arrived at Penny Pines 1 AS in 13^th place. I decided to take off my shirt, drench it the bucket of ice water, and put it back on. I had never tried this strategy before, but it seemed to work well, a technique I will use in future races I am sure. I filled my bottles with some off brand lemon lime soda and headed out. I discovered during Chimera that the carbonation in soda helps settle my stomach, and the concentration of sugars seems to be just right, making for a good energy source readily available at most ultra aid stations.

Penny Pines 1 to Meadows (43.8-48.8)

I don’t remember many details from this next section, so I assume it went relatively well (no news is good news, right?). I do remember feeling good rolling into Meadows AS. I was at the halfway point and the sun was on its way down, all things that help the psyche in a hot 100 miler. I sat down at the aid (I think for the first time in the race), and asked one of the kind volunteers to fill both my bottles with Coke. Another volunteer offered me an otter pop, which I kindly accepted. This was also the first time in the race I started to inquire about how far ahead the lead pack was. I was told the leader was less than an hour ahead, which I assumed was Fabrice Hardel. To my surprise, the volunteer I was speaking with told me Fabrice had dropped and he was ‘sitting over there’. I was sorry to hear this. Fabrice was also on the roster for Chimera back in Nov, but didn’t compete. With my moral on the rise, I took a final douse of water to the head and kept on moving. I made a mental note of the leader being less than an hour ahead, so I could keep track of whether I was gaining any time with each subsequent section.

Meadows to Red Tail Roost (48.8-55); Red Tail Roost to Dales Kitchen 1 (55-56.3)

Over the next 6.2 miles I made sure to consume both bottles of Coke, and empty all my cooling bottle over my head. I managed to pass one runner shortly after departing Meadows, and arrived at Red Tail Roost in 10^th place. Since it was 1.3 miles to the next aid, I asked only for some Coke in one of my bottles. No Coke there, but the AS captain was gracious enough to lend me a can of Pepsi, which I found to be just as satisfying. The captain walked with me down to the road to make sure I crossed the highway safely. His words were motivational as we walked, and I so I took off toward Dales Kitchen feeling strong.

Dales Kitchen to Cibbet’s Flat (64-71.7)

At Dale’s kitchen, I took in some solid calories, and made an influential, but not tragic, mistake. I thought it was cool enough by now to not need my cooling bottle anymore, and decided to leave it at Dales. After filling up and heading down the mountain toward Cibbets Flat, I realized it was still warm enough to warrant constant cooling, and instant regretted my erroneous decision. I tried to compensate by running shirtless for this stretch, but it didn’t help much. About two thirds into this segment, I had quite the scare when I almost stepped on a RATTLE SNAKE curled up right on the trail! Luckily I saw it in time and the adrenaline and reflexes kicked in quickly enough to send me jump’in and a hopp’in over that snake. As soon as I was on the other side of him, I turned around and began chucking rocks in his direction to scare him off trail. It took a few rocks, each one getting larger with each successive throw, but I finally got that rattler off trail, with the hopes of ensuring the safety of those who would follow. Not too long after the scare, I caught a runner. I asked if he ‘saw the rattler back there’ and he confirmed he had. Part of me wondered to myself, ‘well then why did you keep running, why didn’t you try to get it off the trail’? No point in worrying about it, I gave him some encouraging words and passed on by. I realized the lead pack would be heading back up the mountain any moment, so I made a mental note to check my watch when the leader passed me coming uphill. This way, I would know how many miles he had on me, along with the others of the lead pack. Shortly after making this mental note, Nate Jaqua came cruising toward me, looking strong and comfortable. About a mile later, more runners from the lead pack appeared. It was hard to distinguish pacers from runners, so I got a bit confused as to which place I was actually in. It didn’t really matter though, I was able to visualize the leader, and he wasn’t too far off, considering we still had over 30 miles to go, and I was feeling good. I made it down to Cibbets flat and spent a few minutes recovering from the 7.7 mile downhill run, and resting up for the 7.7 mile climb ahead. After a rest, refilling with Coke, taking in some calories, and cooling off, I was ready to roll. I noticed at least one runner and his pacer still getting situated, so I knew I had picked up another place.

Looking back at the tracking results in Ultralive.net, it looks like I left Cibbets flat in 7^th place. I headed up the hill feeling strong and confident. This is the point in the race where running conservative the first 50 miles begins to pay off. I had been losing seconds off my min/mile avg. since mile 50, and was confident with the cooling temps and lack of major climbs (excluding the one I was currently on) over the last 30 miles, that I would run a negative split for the second half of the race. In reviewing my Strava data, I hit mile 50 in 10 hrs 3 mins. So yes, in hindsight, that should have been the case.

The Rabbit Hole

I continued moving well uphill, and managed to catch another runner just as it was getting dark. I was now in 6^th place, less than 2 miles out from Dales kitchen. After another five minutes or so of running, I found myself on a fire road, which seemed familiar, but at the same time I could hear voices in the distance, off in a different direction, signifying that the aid station must be close. The problem was, the fire road was leading in a direction away from the voices, which caused me to wonder if I was going the right way. I couldn’t recall any major turn-offs in the trail, so I was a bit confused at this point. I continued up the fire road another half mile or so until I became convinced it was the wrong way. I back tracked to where I could hear voices again, and even see headlights in the distance. I yelled out to the voices, and got a response. I asked where the aid station was, they replied that they were on the trail, and I needed to get back up there. I said I didn’t know how to get back on the trail, but I would walk toward them. I attempted to walk their direction, but the brush and vegetation became so thick and tall, that I couldn’t get through. I continued back-tracking down the fire road, looking for where I may have gone off course. No luck. I saw more headlamps off in the distance, notably higher in elevation from where I am at, I again yelled out, stating I was stuck. Again, some runners instructed me to try and walk up toward them. I attempted again, but the brush was too thick and tall. I would have tried to just muscle my way through, but they were at least a hundred yards away, uphill, and it was just too thick. I had already scraped myself up pretty good in my two attempts. I persisted to wander around, exploring where I may have gone astray, still no luck. I did see two beadie eyes in a bush, which belonged to a small coyote that I remember spotting shortly before realizing I was off course. I searched all over, no sign of a trail. The fire road I was on gradually phased out into the brush, which seemed perplexing. After at least an hour of this horsing around, I decided to stay put on a large rock, and yell out to the next runner in the distant to let them know I was officially lost/stuck and needed help.

After several minutes, I saw another light so I yelled out. It was a female runner. I told her I was lost and I needed help getting out. She said she would go back to the aid station and let them know. At this point, all I could do was wait. It must have been around 9 O’clock by now. I had run out of Coke, both bottles empty. Luckily, one of the volunteers back and Cibbets flat had packed me a small baggie of pretzels to take on the road, It turns out I would need those. It was starting to get cold out, and since I wasn’t moving much, I was started to feel it. “How long would I be stuck here?”, I thought as I munched on some pretzels. I waited, and waited, believing someone from the aid station would come down and figure out how to get me the heck out of there. No one came. By now it was around 10 o’clock (I had no way of knowing for sure, since my Garmin had died back at mile 67). I was beginning to get worried, upset, and a bit angry all at once. I persisted to yell to the runners in the distance, asking for help. Another runner responded, and said he had a cell phone. I yelled to him as loud as I could, “Call Scott Mills, the race director, tell him I’m lost, I need help, I am getting hypothermic, I have no nutrition or hydration!” This may all seem a bit dramatic, but after running seventy miles, you don’t have much left in terms of reserves, so you start to deteriorate quickly if you aren’t constantly taking in calories, fluids and maintaining adequate body temperature. My biggest concern at this point was hypothermia. I only had on a t-shirt, and I had been shivering for quite some time now. I kept sitting on my rock, wondering if anyone would ever come. Your mind starts to wander when you’re stuck in the wilderness. I decided to make yet another attempt to find get myself out of this jam. I ran back up the fire road, but this time I was simply looking for an alternate route, a road maybe, anything. I ran further up the road then before, but it seemed hopeless. I went back to my rock. The one advantage of this last venture is it warmed me up a little, kept me moving. Finally, after approximately 3 hrs. of being stranded, I saw a light walking toward me. It was the aid station captain from Dales Kitchen. I was really glad to see him, to say the least. To be honest, I really hadn’t been thinking much about the race the past three hours, I was mainly concerned with how get back to safety. The aid station captain led me to the trail that I must have veered off on to begin with. The trail was literally a couple hundred yards or so from the rock I had perched myself on, but there was no way to know this. The trail was overgrown with brush; I still have no idea how I didn’t realize this when I first got off course. Low and behold, as we made our way through the pseudo-trail heading to the course, another headlight was coming towards us. It was another racer, who had obviously made the same erroneous turn I had. We let him know he was headed in the wrong direction and told him to follow us back to the main trail. As I later reflected on my whole experience of being lost, the one consolation I have is that I was able to save another poor soul from making the same mistake, and possibly getting lost for who knows how long.

Dales Kitchen 2- Todd’s Cabin (71.7-75.3)

The runner we had saved made his way back to the aid a bit quicker than the captain and I. I was pretty spent from the whole ordeal, but at least managed to maintain a decent pace walking/hiking the 1 mile to the aid. At this point, I was still in somewhat of a mental (and physical daze) and wasn’t thinking about much else other than getting to the aid to get some hot soup and calories. However, as we walked, like a true aid station captain, my new found friend informed me that I could still finish the race in under 24 hrs. His tone didn’t leave any room for question or doubt, so I let his words sink in as we approached the aid. As disappointed as I was over the amount of time and number of places I had lost, I knew I had to finish this race if at all possible. I had DNF’ed last year, DNF’ed my last race attempt at SOB, and so I wasn’t about to DNF this night, if I could at all avoid it. I let the good captains words continue to motivate me as I took in those much needed calories, and I did some mental calculations of what pace I would need to run in order to still finish sub 24. The numbers and my perceived energy level/endurance capacity checked out (needing to run about a 13-14 min/mi for the remaining 30 miles), so I thanked the good captain once more for saving my butt, assured him I would finish sub 24, and headed on my way. My friend whom we redirected from going off course earlier left the aid just before me, with the same sub 24 hour goal, but I could tell from how he was moving that he might have trouble realizing such.

When I arrived at Todd’s Cabin, I asked the time so I could calculate my pace coming from Dales. I was a bit disappointed to learn I had only run a 15/min mile avg for the section. WTF? I swore I had run much faster then that. Oh well, that just meant I had less time to down some mini quesadillas (not too many of course, too much cheese at this point in the game would be no bueno). As quickly as I could, I headed out with my two Coke bottles and continued my trek toward the finish.

Todd’s Cabin to Penny Pines 2 (75.3-80.3)

Things picked up on the next leg on down to Penny Pines 2, I managed to shave 36 sec/mi off my time from the last leg (according to my splits from Ultralive), whoo-hoo! By this point, my feet were really starting to hurt. I had gotten a ton of debris, foxtails, rocks, and dirt in my shoes, mainly from the multiple efforts trying to bushwhack my way to freedom back at mile 70. I also had no shortage of cuts and scrapes all over my legs, which didn’t help the situation any. I was too tired/lazy to take off my shoes, so I just kept running despite the extreme discomfort. This resulted in some pretty bad blisters, which were really giving me a hard time, especially over this somewhat rocky stretch (after the race I would discover that my socks were literally infested with foxtails, and I had developed several bad blisters, one of which covered my entire right heel). ‘No pain, no gain’ as my former Navy diver dad likes to say. I kept pushing forward.  

Penny Pines 2 to Pioneer Mail 2 (80.3-84.3)

Arriving at Pioneer Mail 2 was both encouraging and discouraging all at once. I knew I had a 7 mile stretch ahead of me, which didn’t sound good at all to my feet. At this point, I have no choice. At least there were no major climbs left, and the trail on this stretch was relatively smooth, compared to the rest of the course. Before departing, I again inquired as to the time, and did some rough mental calculations to see if sub 24 was still in the cards, and it indeed was.

Pioneer Mail 2 to Sunrise 2 (84.3-91.5)

I ended up running a 12:54 min/mile to Sunrise, again, I felt like I was running more like a 9 min/mile for a lot of that stretch, I guess that’s just part of the delusional mindset that starts to set in during the late night hours of 100 miler. The last mile of this stretch seem to go forever, I kept thinking, “the aid must be just around this corner”, but it never seemed to appear. Finally, after what seemed like 50 mini climbs and turns, I arrived at the FINAL AID STATION!

Sunrise 2 to Finish! (91.5-100.5)

I knew at this point I could for sure pull it off; I just needed some more Coke to get me through the final 9 miles of this race. A friendly volunteer topped me off, and I was off running, feeling confident I could make pretty good time on this last segment. A few minutes later, I took a sip of Coke and realized something was off. Somehow, I was given the ‘watered down’ version and probably only had a couple hundred calories between the two bottles, definitely not sufficient for my needs at this stage in the game (mental note to self: for now on, always carry some back up fuel on you- I will probably choose a 5 oz flask of honey for this in future races). The diluted Coke definitely took its toll, I had passed a few runners, but they were soon returning the favor as my energy demand began outnumbering my supply of watery cola. Interestingly enough, some of these runners were guys I had passed back around mile 50-60, so I am sure they were quite surprised to see me again. And in case they didn’t recognize me, I made sure to let them know, “yeah, I got lost for 3 HOURS, it was great!” On to the finish line. I have to admit, I did not study the course map as diligently as I should have leading up to this race. I had them all printed out to take with me on the cross country drive the week before the race, and then of course forgot them at home. I did some last minute cramming the day before the race, but we all know that never works out too well. So, when I came to the fork, either heading toward the area of Chambers aid, or going left on a more direct route toward the finish, I was clueless. I decided to trust the two runners ahead of me and follow toward Chambers, while two other runners took off on the more direct route. Turns out the three of us went the right way. I’m pretty sure those other guys crossed the finish at sub 100 mile, but honestly who cares. I was pretty beat, but kept on truck ‘in. I had to take some walk breaks here and there despite the relatively flat terrain, mainly due to my lack of caloric intake; otherwise I’m sure I could have run the final 9 miles. Soon enough the finish was in site, over the bridge, final stretch. The sun was starting to come up, we were just 26 minutes shy of a full 24 hours from when we started this epic adventure. I crossed the line and did the only thing I really cared to do, sat down. I still don’t understand why these races don’t have a full on buffet of hot breakfast food waiting at the finish line. I mean, that would really hit the spot. If I’m ever an RD, I will definitely make this happen.

One of the volunteers handed me my buckle and medal, and of course I had to let him know I had gotten lost, it just felt good to get if off my chest to as many people as would listen, no sense keeping all that frustration in. Between Chimera and TRT 100, I think I have run tougher races than SD100 in terms of sheer vertical gain, but SD, as I recall RD Scott Mills stating, is ‘deceptively challenging’. After experiencing the whole race, I can definitely say that with its warm temps and somewhat rocky terrain, this is a valid statement regarding this course of just 13k vertical gain. That being said, and taking into account my getting lost, with cuts blisters and all, I can officially say this was my hardest earned buckle to date. I will definitely wear/display it proudly.  

After sitting and soaking it in for a while, I saw my wife walking toward me, coming to pick me up at this early hour. I know how much she loves her sleep, so it’s a real sacrifice to get me to and from these early morning ventures, and I definitely couldn’t do it with her support. Love you Liz!

Well, that’s a wrap folks! Thanks for reading and until next time, happy trails!

Chimera 100 Race Report 2015- "Tackling The Beast”

Blue Jay (Start) to Hot Springs- there and back (mi 1-24)

   
     At around 6:07 am I found myself running past all the other racers, but in the opposite direction! The race director was making some last minute announcements and estimated the race would start in 15 mins. It occurred to me that I may not have included my gloves in my night drop bag, so I returned quickly to my car, which was just a few hundred yards from the start to look for them. I was rummaging around my duffles when I heard RD Steve Harvey’s voice over the microphone, “3,2,1…”. Shoot! I thought to myself while slamming down the rear door to my van. I began sprinting back to the start, so I could loop around it and actually start the race. Coach Bob had told me to only allow myself 3 mistakes during the race. I was able to chalk up #1 before the race had even started, dohh! I would later discover that my gloves were indeed in my drop bag, which was a good thing because it would actually get cold enough to wear them.  I eventually made my way up toward the front where I settled into a comfortable pace and kept an eye on my heart rate, making sure to keep it around 140 bpm. My objective for the first half of the race would be to keep this avg. heart rate, which would hopefully leave me with enough stamina to minimize slowing in the last 50 miles and finish strong over the last 25.

     Heading down to Hot Springs is mainly single track, a good portion of which had been carved out so the trail resembled a small canyon. At times this terrain was a bit tricky to navigate, but nothing out of the ordinary for a 100 mile trail race. Making our way down to cocktail springs aid station, I found myself running behind legendary ultrarunner Nikki Kimball. I wouldn’t learn her name or who she was though until we started the climb out of Hot Springs aid. Things were relatively slow going for the first 6 miles and then things picked for the next 6 miles as we descended down to Hot Springs. During the descent, I started realizing how much work it was going to take to get back up the mountain, and noticed that the temps were relatively warm already. I had only carried a single 20 oz Amphipod bottle with me on this leg of the race and was beginning to think I should have brought two. Once at Hot Springs I made sure to guzzle down plenty of water, eat some orange slices, and fill my bottle before turning around to start the 12 mi journey back to Blue Jay. Coach Bob had instructed me to make a handy note card with the distance to each aid station, so I could break the race down into more ‘palatable chunks’ as he likes to say. I did this, and decided to add some additional info just for kicks, gain per section and estimated pace. I had estimated an 8 min/mi for the first 12 miles, and using my Strava data, I calculated my actual avg. to be an 8:40 min/mi for those miles. I ran miles 7-12 at about 8 min/mi as predicted, however, miles 1-6 are a bit deceptive with gradual ups and downs, making it harder to run a quicker, steadier pace. Add to this the ‘canyon like’ single track, and I just couldn’t move as fast as anticipated. In my initial race planning, I went through each section, and estimated a pace based off the elevation gain alone (note: the elevation gain #’s in this chart total 28,000 ft of gain. The race has 22,000 as reported on the official website, but some of the Strava data I have seen from past racers shows about 18,000 total gain. I like to call it an even 20,000, but who knows what the true # is?!). After I made my segment pace estimates, I added then up to get an estimated total race time and estimated avg. pace for the whole race. This number came out to 19.95 hours, or 11:58 min/mi pace. Whether I would actually be able to maintain this pace was yet to be determined.

     Although it was only around 8 am, it got pretty warm climbing out of Hot Springs AS back to Cocktail Rock. The climb didn’t seem as bad as I had anticipated though. I was able to keep a good pace, running most of the time, and keeping my HR around 146 bpm going uphill. After a few miles of climbing, I caught up with Nikki Kimball and we spent some time chatting over the next couple of miles before reaching Cocktail Rock. It was a real pleasure getting to share the trail with a true legend, even if I didn’t even know it until halfway into our conversation (I claimed ignorance and being relatively new to the sport). Eventually, we both arrived at Cocktail Rock aid where we stopped for some water before continuing on.^nd place after I had noticed them running together climbing out of Hot Springs. At this point he was about 2 mi ahead of me. I didn’t think about this too much, but made a mental note. I was still focused on running my race as I had planned. About a mile from Blue Jay I crossed paths with the leader, Mark Hammond, a little less than a mile from the aid station. He was already started on the second leg of the race, Candy Store Loop. He had broken away from 2

Blue Jay- Candy Store Loop- Blue Jay (mi 24-46)

     When I arrived at Blue Jay, mile 24, I took in some calories and questioned the race volunteers regarding the location of the turn off to Candy Store. I was a bit worried because I did not see any markings when I passed the area where it should have been coming back into Blue Jay. I wasn’t able to get a clear answer, but rather than wait around for one, I decided to get back on trail. I had a general idea of where, to go and that would have to do for now. I stopped briefly at my car, threw on a tank top, grabbed my hat and sunglasses, and drank some mango smoothie before continuing on. As I made my way down the trail toward Candy store, I questioned runners along the way regarding the turn off, and fortunately I was getting positive feedback. The closer I got, the better responses I was getting and people were assuring me that it was ‘not too far’. Eventually I found RD Steve Harvery on the trail, doing some chalk marking, and he assured me the turn off was 1.5 miles ahead. Fortunately for me, the turn off was clearly marked when I arrived. It turns out that the turn off had only recently been marked. In hindsight, I realize that this was done, most likely, to avoid potential vandalism, as this has been a real problem on this course in the past, as stated by the RD himself at the pr-race talk. Shortly after the turn off, I came to the Chiquito Falls aid where I grabbed some pretzels and water before continuing on. 

     The descent to Candy Store is another place where I had estimated I could move faster than I was actually able to. This was do to the steepness and technical nature of the trail, with lots of rocks and boulders. Again, this is where course knowledge and prior experience would have been invaluable. After a rather slow descent and even having to scramble down a few boulders, I arrived at a fork with no marking of whether to go right or left. Luckily, I had printed out the turn by turn directions and kept it in a plastic baggie in one of the side pockets of my REI Fleet running shorts. It took a minute or two, but I was able to determine that I was at the San Juan Loop intersection, great! Now, right or left? Neither, according to the turn by turn, go STRAIGHT?! Oh well, I started running left, and luckily saw a photographer just up the trail, who assured me by his presence and response that I was indeed headed the right direction. After a mile or so, I spotted another runner not too far ahead, which gave me some encouragement. Within a mile of Candy Store Aid, I came to another fork with no clear marking of which way to go. Luckily, San Diego 100 RD and Candy Store AS captain Scottie Mills was on the trail to help point me in the right direction. He sympathized with me in regarding the markings and assured me the aid station was less than a mile away.
     Upon arrival at Candy Store, mi 35.5, I had caught up to then 3^rd place runner Brandon Bolweg. I made sure to get in and out rather quickly after filling my bottles, icing down my quads, and downing some orange slices to take the #3 spot. Heading back up to Chiquito Falls was all the same trail, just going up this time. At this point temps had peaked out for the day, probably around 80 degrees or so. The climb back up wasn’t too bad, but I could sense myself slowing a bit, and wasn’t getting in as many calories as I should have. I am still not 100% certain what caused all of this, but in hindsight and some post-race de-briefing discussions with coach Bob, I suspect the heat had something to do with it. This, and it seems that miles 30-40 of each hundred mile race I have done present a challenge. Perhaps this is some kind of transition zone where my body is realizing this is not going to be just a 30 mile training run, but much longer, so it is trying to adapt itself, or set itself up for the long haul ahead, who knows. I will be sure to pay more attention to this in training and preparing for future races.

     After another quick stop at Chiquito Falls, I continued on back to Blue Jay, where again, I was feeling a bit sluggish, so I did my best to just muscle through this section. By the time I reached Blue Jay, my moral had dipped quite a bit, and I will admit for a second I thought of throwing in the towel. I was feeling discouraged that at mile 46 I was already feeling like I was declining. At this point, I realized my nutrition strategy of honey and apple juice wasn’t working out as well as I had hoped. I’m not sure why, but I picked up a cup of dark fluid off the aid station table and drank it, not really even thinking about it. I guess I was just desperate, trying to get some calories. I soon realized what I had drank was Coca-Cola. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. After a few minutes at the aid, I noticed 4^th, 5^th and 6^th place starting to roll in and figured I’d better be on my way. But first, I made sure to stop by my van to throw on a long sleeve shirt, beanie, and grab my Energizer head lamp. I had a drop bag with night gear at Bear Springs, but I realized it would most likely be dark before I arrived there.

Blue Jay to Indian Truck Trail (46.4- 76.8)

     After a couple of minutes of running, I realized I was feeling a bit better, running up some of the steeper sections as I headed up to Trabuco Aid Station. What was the cause of this renewed energy? Was it the brief period of rest at the aid station? Was it the pink Core drink I had taken back there, the Coke, the fruit? I wasn’t sure, but I was just glad I was feeling a bit better. The climb up to Trabuco is rather steep, about 1,100 ft. in 2.7 mi, according to my Strava data. Once at Trabuco Aid, I reflected back on my renewed energy and its potential source. Almost instinctively, I asked the aid volunteer to fill one of my 20 oz bottles with Coke, the other with water.

     At this point, things were starting to look a lot more positive. I was looking forward to the second half of this race for multiple reasons. First, I had run the Saddleback Mountain Goat Marathon back in September, which covered a lot of the same ground as the second half of this race. Second, the back half takes place on 40 miles of truck trail, a welcomed change from the single track of the first half. The truck trail would prove to be a good a thing in some parts, not so good in others. Leaving Trabuco, I began the 5 mile descent down to Holy Jim aid station. The trail somewhat technical/rocky along this segment, something I learned the hard way back in September. (I was flying down this segment during that race when I tripped on a rock, slamming my shoulder and knee onto the rocky trail. It was the hardest fall I had ever taken in a race, and while running, ever. It shook me up and I didn’t think I would be able to continue that race. Somehow though I was able to get up, realized my legs could still move, and carried on. The wound on my knee still hadn’t healed all the way by this point so I’m glad I didn’t take another spill the second time around). On the descent I met up with one of the volunteers, also named Eric, who was sweeping the course down to Holy Jim AS. We shared some good conversation running down the trail. I mentioned to him that the last several aid stations told me #2 was “just barely ahead” of me. I started to wonder about this because I had yet to catch him and I had been hearing this for a while now. After a relatively quick and smooth 5 miles, I reached Holy Jim AS (mi 55) and #2 runner Jerry Garcia. At first, I wasn’t sure that was him as he now had a shirt on and had picked up a pacer, a different image from back at mile 24 where I last saw him running solo and shirtless. The aid volunteer assured me that was him, which made me feel good. 

     The temps were starting to drop as dusk drew nearer so I took in my first serving of soup at this aid, and filled up my bottle once again with Coke (this stuff was working like a charm!). I left the aid and saw my friend Eric running down trail toward me. He passed by saying, “you caught him!”, referring to the #2 runner. I officially passed Jerry and pacer a minute later and said, “#1 is pretty far up there, huh?”. I gave them some encouraging words, and kept running up the hill while they hiked. I was feeling pretty good, Coke in full force. I had done this climb before and felt optimistic of making some good time and possibly making up some ground on Mark. At this point, I knew he was a good distance ahead of me, but with 45 miles still left in the race, I was well aware anything could happen so I remained optimistic as I moved up Holy Jim. I passed quite a few hikers coming down the mountain, and inquired of each of them if they had ‘seen another runner’. I got varying responses (as expected), some saying he was 2 miles ahead, 45 mins, etc. So, I just kept moving along. As the sun went down, I began to regret not having my Petzl light instead of the $10 Energizer headlamp I was wearing. This light was not very bright. I opted for this light as it was lighter weight, and allowed me to keep my better light at Bears Springs with the rest of my night gear.  Not a critical mistake, but something to think about for my next race.

     Along the climb, I kept hearing what I believed to be critters rustling around in the bushes. This is to be expected, but occasionally the sounds would get a bit louder, which of course makes you automatically think that there is a mountain lion or some other larger animal out there. At one point I shined my light in a bush and sure enough, two beady eyes were staring back at me, reflecting the light. This animal was definitely large enough to be a bobcat, and could have been even larger, I’m not sure. It was hard to tell with the lighting. Regardless, I kept moving. Around this time I also spotted what appeared to be a runner’s headlight traversing the truck trail way up on the mountain. Was that Mark? Probably. When I arrived at the truck trail where Holy Jim trail ends, there were no markings of whether to go right or left. I recollected that during the marathon I had gone right at this junction, so I erroneously assumed I should do the same here. After about 4-5 mins of running, something told me I should make sure I was going the right way, so I once again pulled out my turn by turn directions, which read: ‘Holy Jim Trail- Top, go LEFT.’ Dang it! Time to turn around. I was kicking myself for this simple mistake that would end up adding close to ten minutes to my time, and could have been easily avoided if I had simply pulled out the turn by turn directions 5 minutes ago! Oh well, not much I could do now, at least I knew I was now going the right way. I arrived back at original junction where I had gotten off course, and started the steep climb up to Bear Springs aid and eventually Santiago Peak. 

     Bear Springs aid was a welcomed sight, as it was getting colder and darker. I knew I had some warmer clothes here along with my good headlight, and best of all, hot soup. I spent some time drinking soup and taking in some tasty aid station fare while putting on my favorite long sleeve shirt, a green wool Nike shirt, along with now famous gloves and a running jacket. I thanked the volunteers for the food, help with my gear, and for filling my bottle with Coke. As I was hiking up the hill toward Santiago peak, I spotted a headlamp arriving at Bear Springs. This was #3 Jerry. I immediately thought about that wrong turn a little ways back. I had worked hard to make good time up Holy Jim and gain an even better lead him, but now he was right back on my tail. I was feeling good though and kept moving forward. Some minutes later, I saw a truck coming toward me, which turned out to be the EMS crew. The driver asked me if I needed anything so I asked if they had any soda, since my bottle of Coke was already halfway gone and I had a ways to go before the next aid. They had a Dr. Pepper so I had them top me off (suicide style). He also told me to go right at the top of Santiago peak, and not to go through the gate and up to the actual peak. Good advice. I probably would have spent several minutes there trying to figure out which way to go. I finally reached Santiago peak and saw the gates, so I made sure to go right and continue down the truck trail. This portion of road was rather rocky, making the descent a bit difficult. 

     A couple miles out from Modjeska Peak aid, I crossed paths with Mark. I was a bit surprised to see him, so I asked in passing, “we’re going the right way, right?”. He confirmed and we both kept running as I shouted of some words of encouragement. I was impressed at how well he was moving, uphill, and even more impressed that he was still wearing his same clothes as when he started, a mere tank top and shorts! He had already been to Modjeska, down to Maple Springs, back up to Modjeska aid, up Modjeska Peak, back down, and was on his way back to Bear Springs aid! At this point I started to believe that the only way I would catch him is if he was forced to drop from the race due to hypothermia! But then again, there was still 30+ miles of race left, so I held to the same notion, ‘anything could happen’ and kept moving. I arrived at Modjeska Peak aid within a few miles, refilled my bottles, ate a quick snack, and had them set some miso soup out to cool so it would be ready when I got back. The trip down to Maple Springs Aid and back was a mere 2.2 miles round trip, so when I got down there I just yelled my # then turned around and headed back to Modjeska. I made a quick wardrobe change, removing my long sleeve shirt, and going shirtless under my Nike running jacket. The two layers were making me too hot, but this arrangement with just the jacket ended up being perfect. Just before heading up Modjeska peak, I saw Jerry pulling into the aid station. I made the trip up to Modjeska peak where I spotted the skull, turned around and navigated the steep, rocky downhill back to the aid. Here, I didn’t spend much time, but made sure to top off before heading back toward Bear Springs Aid. While departing, I looked over my shoulder to see if Jerry was returning yet from Maple Springs, and to my delight but somewhat surprise, I didn’t see him. I was a bit surprised, however, to see a runner coming towards me a few minutes later that I had not recognized (which meant he must have gained a lot of ground over the 2^nd half of the race), then 4^th place, so I assume it would have been Christopher Harrington, but I can’t be sure. 

     I crossed paths with a few more runners making my way back to Bear Springs, which turned out to be a somewhat uneventful leg of the race. Upon arriving at Bear Springs, I took in some more warm calories, and made sure to set aside my drop bag for early delivery back to the start (a great feature of this race btw, for those who aren’t able to stick around until later the following day to collect drop bags!). The next leg would be a relatively quick 2 miles to Indian Truck Trail Aid at mile 77. Along the way, I couldn’t help but think about the 7 mi of downhill that lie ahead of me. I was feeling good at this point and anticipated being able to make pretty good time running down the mountain to Corona AS.

Indian Truck Trail to Corona, there and back (76.8- 90.8)

     When I arrived at ITT, I asked one of the volunteers if the dirt road that lie ahead was relatively smooth or more rocky. He confirmed it was mostly smooth, which was good to hear! After refilling with Coke I was on my way. The first ½ mile or so was somewhat flat, but eventually the grade steepened and I found myself keeping a good pace. Shortly after beginning the descent, I saw Mark in the distance running back up the mountain! I realized he had gained even more ground on me and any hopes of catching him were rapidly vanishing. Continuing on down the hill, I found myself feeling strong for being 80 miles into this race, and was ticking off 7 and 8 min miles! I arrived at the bottom and came to an intersection with another dirt road. I stopped as I wasn’t sure if I needed to make a turn. A truck happened to be coming toward me so I flagged it down and asked the driver if he had seen any runners or an aid station. I don’t think he spoke much English as he didn’t seem to understand my questions, so I let them continue on and pulled out my trusty turn by turn directions. In the process I noticed a ‘private property sign’ posted on the crossing dirt road. That, and confirmation from my turn by turn sheet gave me the confidence to continue on straight ahead. Shortly thereafter I was relieved to see the lights of Corona AS in the distance. What I found at the aid was more than relief, as I scarfed down a delicious mini homemade apple pie! There were other homemade treats that tempted me to linger around, but I knew I better get going. As always, the volunteers at this aid were exceptional, which lifted my spirits as I began the long 7 mile uphill journey back to ITT aid. 

     At first, I was feeling good and confident, running uphill for the first mile or so. However, I soon realized I wouldn’t be able to keep that pace for long so I resorted to fast hiking with intermittent spurts of running when things got less steep. It wasn’t long after that my Garmin died, lending me to a lot of guess work on how far I was from each aid from there on out. In that spirit, I was sure to ask each passing runner how far I was from ITT aid. Getting closer, probably more than half way through the climb, I ran into Nikki once again. She asked how I was feeling, to which I replied “just hiking up this hill, its about all I can do at this point”, which was true! I inquired how far to the aid, she said about 3 miles. I was disappointed in this answer, I thought/hoped it was closer. Oh well, what can I do, keep hiking. I continued to pass by runners as they made their way down the hill, asking each one “how far”, each one giving me a better and better answer. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I could see the lights of ITT aid, and upon arrival I exclaimed, “This is the best sight I’ve seen all day”! I decided to have a seat while a volunteer graciously filled my bottle with coke, while another offered me a donut. Seriously, a donut!? I couldn’t pass it up! I ate about half before the runner in me told me I better not sit and eat donuts too long, time to finish this race! I was able to get up from ‘the chair’ and carry on, soldiering uphill, yet again. One thing I failed to fully realize and appreciate in my pre-race planning is that miles 85 (Corona AS) – 97 (Trabuco AS) were mainly all uphill, roughly 13 miles of climbing! Even so, the road to Horse Thief AS was pretty rocky, which didn’t help the situation any, making the climb that much more difficult! 

     Again, no watch data combined with the darkness of night and fatigue I was experiencing, I was constantly guessing how far I was from the next aid. Luckily, I was once again approached by a vehicle driven by some volunteers. I asked for confirmation I was headed the right direction and how far I was from the aid. They confirmed I was indeed still on the right path and about a mile or so from the aid, which is all I needed to hear. Continuing in survival mode, I made it to Horse Thief, quickly refueled, and continued on with the thought of only having ONE MORE AID STATION to go! The journey to Trabuco TH aid wasn’t too bad, no runners on the trail, just me and the dark night. By this point I couldn’t tell if my Petzl head lamp batteries were getting low, or if my eyes were tiring or over correcting for the constant bright beam in front of me, but things seemed to be getting darker. Once at Trabuco aid I topped off one bottle and started on the steep descent toward the finish! This truck trail is somewhat rocky, so that with the darkness, I felt like I was practically tip toeing my way down the road! At least I didn’t have the sharp pains in my quads with each step, which is what I had experienced at this same point of the race during my first 100 miler, Javelina Jundred just one year prior. 

     Finally I reached the pavement, signifying just about a mile to go! I searched for markers or signs or chalk in the road for confirmation. Couldn’t see anything. Fortunately, I recalled the correct route from back in Sept, so I knew my way to the finish line from here. I ran the final mile without much difficulty, still feeling relatively good. Alas, I hit the home stretch, seeing all the cars parked along the side of the road, I was almost there! I arrived at my own van, and stopped to get my phone as I wanted to make a video of myself crossing the finish line. Got my phone, of course, dead battery, ahh! Oh well, just 100 yards left! As I approached the finish line, I saw a woman standing there cheering me on, calling my name. Some of the volunteers had called me by name throughout the race, so I didn’t think much of it. Standing just outside the finish line, I asked, “do you have a phone? Can you video me? I want a video of myself crossing the finish line!”. She says she has a phone, gets it out and snaps a few pics. With that, I crossed the finished line, and the same woman says, “good job Eric, 2^nd place!”. I looked at her and finally recognized her as my sister, Jenny! Ha! I was so fatigued, and delirious from 100 miles that I didn’t even recognize my own sister! She lives in San Clemente, just 30 mins from Blue Jay, so when I was heading down for the race I let her know I would be racing that weekend and invited her to come out to watch. I hadn’t seen her during the day so I figured she wasn’t able to make it. But I was wrong! She and my brother in law Sean, came straight from a work event and stuck it out until 3 a.m. to watch this old man survive a battle with The Beast!

     So there you have it folks, that’s my story. 100 miles through the Saddleback Mountains. I grew up in Escondido (San Diego) and Brea (Orange County). I consider both counties to be my home, so it was very fitting for me to run this race, which takes place right between the two! I felt proud to have represented my home turf well, taking home a 2^nd place finish overall (of course it didn’t hurt that a few of the top seeded runners failed to show, but hey, I’ll still take it!).

     My actual finishing time was just under 21.5 hrs or 12:52 min/mi avg. So, it turns out my estimates were less than 1 min/mi off. I would have liked to have been more accurate, or even better, below my estimates, but still, this equates to about a 7.25% error in my estimated vs. real calculations. Not too bad I figure, considering I had never run this course before.