I'm not sure why exactly I started considering running a 100 mile race. Just something about the challenge of that distance that appealed to me. I'm a fairly new runner, having been running for less than three years. I have only finished two 50 mile races, two different runs of Mountain Masochist. And the only reason I ran that twice is because the first time I finished 15 seconds over the time limit, so it wasn't an "official" finish, and I was determined to come back the following year and redeem the race. I did.
In January, on a whim, I put my name in the lottery for Massanutten 100 and won. The race course is notoriously rocky, so I went on the first training run to see what it was like. I was really disheartened by that course. It took us 7.5 hours to cover 25 miles, and I think less than a mile of that was actually runnable because the terrain was so technical. I concluded that 100 miles over any terrain would be challenge enough for me, and although the race has a reputation for fabulous aid station support and allows pacers, it sounded like a bit too much for me to take on for a first 100 miler. Maybe another year.
I settled on Old Dominion because it wasn't too far away (2.5 hours from home), and because the race seemed to have a good mix of trails and roads without pavement (35 miles of trails, 55 miles of dirt/gravel roads, and 10 miles of paved roads) and over 14,000 feet of elevation gain throughout the course. The race is certainly an old school race. The website has very little information, and as much as I scoured the web, I found very few race reports or course descriptions. From what I could gather, the aid stations were pretty hit or miss, not to be depended on, and the race was a stickler for rules which had led to some bad publicity when a few people were disqualified. The race does not allow pacers, only a "safety runner" for a section from mile 75 to 86 which covered the most technical and demanding terrain, at night. I was advised that to run this race, I really needed a crew since the aid stations couldn't be depended on to have enough food or water to keep you going through the race, but that the course was beautiful and worth running.
In January, on a whim, I put my name in the lottery for Massanutten 100 and won. The race course is notoriously rocky, so I went on the first training run to see what it was like. I was really disheartened by that course. It took us 7.5 hours to cover 25 miles, and I think less than a mile of that was actually runnable because the terrain was so technical. I concluded that 100 miles over any terrain would be challenge enough for me, and although the race has a reputation for fabulous aid station support and allows pacers, it sounded like a bit too much for me to take on for a first 100 miler. Maybe another year.
I settled on Old Dominion because it wasn't too far away (2.5 hours from home), and because the race seemed to have a good mix of trails and roads without pavement (35 miles of trails, 55 miles of dirt/gravel roads, and 10 miles of paved roads) and over 14,000 feet of elevation gain throughout the course. The race is certainly an old school race. The website has very little information, and as much as I scoured the web, I found very few race reports or course descriptions. From what I could gather, the aid stations were pretty hit or miss, not to be depended on, and the race was a stickler for rules which had led to some bad publicity when a few people were disqualified. The race does not allow pacers, only a "safety runner" for a section from mile 75 to 86 which covered the most technical and demanding terrain, at night. I was advised that to run this race, I really needed a crew since the aid stations couldn't be depended on to have enough food or water to keep you going through the race, but that the course was beautiful and worth running.
The race pushes heavily for the 24 hour finish, and belt buckles are only awarded for those who finish in that time limit, although up to 28 hours and you're considered an official finisher. I was concerned about that, since 28 hours is on the short side for 100 mile races and I am not a fast runner. I was hoping that with all the miles on dirt and gravel roads, I'd be able to make up enough time for the slow miles of very rocky and technical trail.
Training
I researched training for 100 mile races, and every person I talked to or read advice from had different ideas about training. Some swore by 100 mile weeks, others cautioned against over training and junk miles. Some insisted on a long run of over 50 miles, others said 30 was sufficient. Some talked about bonk runs and training your body to need fewer carbs, others talked about training by heart rate, some insisted on speed work and others thought it was unnecessary. It was enough to make my head spin.
Ultimately, I decided on a rough training schedule that looked something like this:
Monday: Hill interval workout, usually on the treadmill
Intense core workout
Tuesday: Lighter cardio day/cross-training/plyometrics
Core workout
Wednesday: Speed workout on treadmill
Intense core workout
Thursday: Rest day
Friday: Cross-training/plyometrics or 10-12 mile run for back-to-back runs
Intense core workout
Saturday: Long run
Sunday: Rest day
My long runs started at 12-15 miles in January (20 weeks out from the race) and built quickly back up to 30 miles. Starting in March, 12 weeks out from the race, I ran either a 50K race or a total of at least 30 miles on back-to-back runs every weekend. I included a few night runs as well, and used the training runs to experiment with different clothing, food, paces, gear, etc. The schedule flexed a little every week, depending on what sorts of family events we had going on, or how I was feeling, but that's what I aimed for. My training peaked in the middle of May, 3 weeks out from the race. I went up to the Old Dominion course twice and ran a total of 45 miles, and then that weekend ran another 45 miles at a night race that started at midnight. Then I started tapering for the race. I feel like this training served me very well: the speed and hill workouts made noticeable improvements in my fitness level, the core workouts enabled me to keep good running form for hours on end, the long runs built my endurance and gave me a chance to practice pacing and fueling, and the rest days allowed me to recover and get stronger without any injuries.
As the race approached, I prepared mentally as best I could. I secured a crew who I knew would support me well and that gave me a lot of confidence. I read every race report and description of the course I could find. I studied trail maps and garmin routes of the course. I made estimated pace charts. I made index cards with notes about each section and turn by turn directions. I memorized as much as I could about the aid stations and distances. I made notes for my crew about what I would probably want at each aid station where they could meet me. I planned how to deal with various challenges I might encounter: weather, blisters, stomach issues, mental lows when darkness hits, fatigue, etc. I organized supplies for my crew to bring to aid stations-snacks, gear, extra clothes, and a medical kit. Mentally, I went over the race in my mind over and over and pictured myself finishing. It sounds kind of silly, but I was very intimidated about this race distance and I wanted to feel as prepared as possible.
The official Old Dominion website has very little information about the course, other than strict mileage distances between aid stations and some descriptions of the Sherman Gap section as being quite challenging. I found this course description to be invaluable in preparing for the race, and I would highly recommend it to anyone considering this race. I'm going to offer my own description of the course in hopes that it would be helpful to future runners of Old Dominion, and when that's completed I'll link it here. There's also this very well done video by a fellow runner this year for a brief visual tour of the course.
The day before the race, I met my crew at 12:30 so we could drive up to Woodstock. We loaded up the SUV with tons of food, gear, blankets, pillows, and everything else we could fathom needing for a whole weekend of running and crewing. We arrived at the fairgrounds around 4:15, and I checked in, picked up my race number, and was weighed. This is clearly a low-key event. My "race packet" was a brown paper lunch bag that contained my race number, a sticker with my race number for my crew's windshield, a paper with the names of all registered runners, and some samples of tea and coffee from a local business. The medical check consisted of weighing me and presumably, the doctor giving me a visual once-over and deciding I looked at least reasonably fit.
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| Melissa, me, and Kat. They were a phenomenal crew! |
Immediately after was the race briefing. This was Ray giving a description of the course, from memory, and a little bit of history of the race. It's clearly a family affair, and while the race remains small, they seem perfectly content to keep it that way. During the briefing, a monitor was playing a loop of photos with a photo from google earth of various sections of the race and their corresponding elevation profiles. I would love to see this added to the race website, as that would have been wonderful information to have before the race. The race briefing concluded with some basic instructions about the race start time, course markings, how to check in at the start, and the time of the awards breakfast. After the race briefing there was a crew briefing, but that really just consisted of making sure each crew had a copy of the Red Book and telling them to follow the directions listed there.
After the briefing, my mission was to eat and sleep. We went back to the hotel, and I ate the chicken and rice I had brought along, and while my crew picked up their own dinner I made some last minute notes and checked that everything was organized, my watch was charging, and my race day clothes were ready to go. I set my alarm and then went to sleep as early as I could.
At promptly 3am, my alarm went off and I started getting ready. I ate a big breakfast of chicken, rice, and scrambled eggs, along with a banana. Got my race gear on and talked to my crew about a few last-minute things. Time went quickly and before I knew it, it was 3:40 and we headed down to drive over to the race start. The excitement was palpable of course, I love that nervous energy that everyone has at the beginning of a race.
Pretty soon we lined up at the start and after a short prayer, we were off. A quick loop around the track, (I remember thinking, "this is going to seem like forever when we get back here") and we were off running through town. I spent the first few miles chatting with some other runners, and while it was faster than I had anticipated going out, we were still bringing up the rear. We were all commenting on how we thought we were making pretty good time and were surprised to have the follow car right behind us. Those first few miles went by quickly and soon we were climbing the switchbacks on the road up the mountain. The moon was bright and you almost didn't even need a headlamp. It was still cool, in the upper 50s, and this was a really nice climb. As we neared the top, you could see the lights of Woodstock in the distance, and it seemed hard to believe that we had just come from there.
Pretty soon we lined up at the start and after a short prayer, we were off. A quick loop around the track, (I remember thinking, "this is going to seem like forever when we get back here") and we were off running through town. I spent the first few miles chatting with some other runners, and while it was faster than I had anticipated going out, we were still bringing up the rear. We were all commenting on how we thought we were making pretty good time and were surprised to have the follow car right behind us. Those first few miles went by quickly and soon we were climbing the switchbacks on the road up the mountain. The moon was bright and you almost didn't even need a headlamp. It was still cool, in the upper 50s, and this was a really nice climb. As we neared the top, you could see the lights of Woodstock in the distance, and it seemed hard to believe that we had just come from there.
At the top of the climb was the first aid station. I didn't need to stop yet, so I just thanked the volunteers and set off down the gravel road. I knew the next section was mostly downhill, and with the cool weather and the sun now up, it was a great section of relaxed running. We maintained a pretty good pace through here, and before I knew it, we were at the Boyer aid station, ready to hit the first section of trail at mile 11. The trail section had some steep climbs, but they were over quickly and even the rocky downhill was decently runnable. Before I knew it, we were back to the Boyer aid station, and then heading down the road along the creek. It was still relatively cool, probably around 70 at this point, and we were running on a fairly shady road with no significant climbs. Another very enjoyable section to run. At the first crew access, mile 19.6, my crew was ready for me, all excited! I came up to a fully decked out mini-aid station, with pictures that my kids had drawn for me and a selection of snacks and drinks. My crew had me in and out so fast I didn't even realize I didn't grab my mp3 player until I had already started up the road. Oh well, I was feeling good at that point and didn't really need the distraction of the music.
It was all road to mile 32. These miles got gradually warmer, and as the roads got out into the valley were very exposed. The countryside was beautiful, running past horse farms and adorable little cottages, but this was the first section where I really started to feel hot. Many of the aid stations had ice, which I put in my shirt. The aid station volunteers were all very friendly and helpful, but the food selection was pretty minimal and I was thankful that I had brought a plethora of snacks to access at the crew aid stations. Coming into the second crew aid station at mile 32, I was feeling very good and still strong. I was excited to still be in a pack of other runners. Since I knew this was a pretty small race (I think there were 57 starters this year), I expected things to thin out quickly and anticipated running most of the race alone. Even though it was hot, the first section had gone by very quickly. I came to the aid station in a little over seven hours, comfortably ahead of my 28 hour pace.
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| Our mobile aid station, packed and ready to go |
It was all road to mile 32. These miles got gradually warmer, and as the roads got out into the valley were very exposed. The countryside was beautiful, running past horse farms and adorable little cottages, but this was the first section where I really started to feel hot. Many of the aid stations had ice, which I put in my shirt. The aid station volunteers were all very friendly and helpful, but the food selection was pretty minimal and I was thankful that I had brought a plethora of snacks to access at the crew aid stations. Coming into the second crew aid station at mile 32, I was feeling very good and still strong. I was excited to still be in a pack of other runners. Since I knew this was a pretty small race (I think there were 57 starters this year), I expected things to thin out quickly and anticipated running most of the race alone. Even though it was hot, the first section had gone by very quickly. I came to the aid station in a little over seven hours, comfortably ahead of my 28 hour pace.
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| Some of the aid stations had very good selections |
My crew filled up my water and snacks for the trail section ahead, and whisked me out so quickly that I left without my camera. This got to me a little bit; I had been excited about filming portions of the trail along the way especially to show my kids, and I knew this was a technical trail section with creek crossings that would be really interesting to see. I had to make some intentional mental choices to move past it, especially since I was far enough into the race to start feeling some fatigue. This section was tough, a lot of long climbs, some thick mud, a few creek crossings, and one tree crossing (the tree was down completely blocking the trail, requiring you to climb over the trunk and under a few branches). It turned out to be quite a bit different than I had run when I tried to train here; the route I thought was correct was much rockier and steeper, as it turns out the actual route is not as rocky or steep, but significantly longer and sunnier. It was a hot section, and I had to ration my water to make the 2 liters last for the entire 8 miles. Still, I made it to the aid station in good spirits, dunking myself in the creek just before getting weighed in. They had ice for me to put in my shirt again, and fruit, and the volunteers were very encouraging. I left feeling quite refreshed and enjoyed the almost 5 mile road downhill jog back to the aid station where my crew was waiting for me.
At this point, I had covered almost 48 miles, and was still feeling really great. I was ahead of my pace chart by over 30 minutes. I spent the last couple miles memorizing a list of what I needed, determined not to let my crew rush me, especially since I had time to spare. I came into the aid station reciting my list, and they took great care of me. I did make one mistake though-after changing my socks, I put on the wrong shoes.
The next section was hot and exposed. The trail section had offered a welcome reprieve from the sun, but this section was road again, and the combination of the heat of the day (full sun, in the mid 80s), the gradual uphill, and the fatigue of being on my feet so long started to take its toll. The shoes were rough on my feet and I started to feel blisters forming. I stopped a few times to clear any visible debris from my shoes but there wasn't much to be done until I reached my crew at the next aid station, about 8 miles down the road.
I arrived happy to see my crew and looking forward to changing shoes. I took a few minutes to put moleskin and tape on my feet, hoping to keep blisters at bay. I had lost a few minutes off my time in this section because of the blisters, but I was still ahead of my estimates. My crew told me I needed to hurry. I told them I was fine, but Kat said I had lost 20 minutes because a person I had been running with came in 20 minutes before me. I thought I had lost less, maybe he was running stronger.
The next section proved to be the mental low point for me. It was a pretty rough section of ATV trail, with lots of short steep hills and piles of rocks. I'm sure the unevenness of the trail and roughness of the terrain is great fun when you're on an ATV but it made for rough running. The blisters were uncomfortable, but I knew I could push through that. The real struggle was questioning whether I would be able to finish. Kat's well-intentioned comment had set off a flurry of self-doubt. What if I slowed down a lot more? What if the blisters kept me from running for a long time? What if I couldn't finish in time? I pictured having to come back and tell people I didn't finish...it was rough. But then came the turning point of the race for me really, when I consciously chose to not obsess over it, to not let her comment stick in my mind. I chose to focus on running to the next aid station as well as I could. I crunched the numbers over and over in my mind and was fully convinced that if I could arrive at Elizabeth Furnace (mile 75) by 10:30, I could basically walk the last 25 miles in 9.5 hours and still be an official finisher. And that still felt very achievable.
During this section there is a small aid station, which has apparently been unmanned in other years, but this year there was a friendly gentleman sitting by the piles of coolers. At such a mental low, and having run alone for many miles, seeing a live human was a great encouragement to me.
The next aid station was Little Fort, at mile 64. I saw my crew again here, they gave me my headlamp and were excited that the next time I'd see them would be at Elizabeth Furnace. I had spent the last few miles becoming entirely convinced that I had a great chance at finishing the race, and becoming determined to not listen to any messages about hurrying, so I honestly have no idea if my crew said anything like that to me. They refilled my snacks and water, and I set off to run the 11 miles to Elizabeth Furnace. This section was all road, but it was finally cooling off a bit as evening settled in, and it was the same gravel downhill we had run in the morning. While I wasn't quite as quick as I had been over 12 hours earlier, I did run quite well through here. I gained some time and ran better than I had for many miles. My legs felt the strongest they had since mile 30, and I really enjoyed this section. I was really starting to believe that I could finish the race. I had long ago decided that reaching Elizabeth Furnace meant I would finish, since I would have pacers who would not let me quit before mile 86, and then at that point I could always just walk down the mountain, even if it took me hours and hours. The confidence continued to grow as I ran harder. The only sad part was running down the gravel road, and three separate times I saw campfires and vehicles and got all excited to reach the aid station, only to find it was just some people up there camping for the night and the aid station was still further ahead.
Eventually, I did reach the Mudhole Gap aid station at mile 69.5. There was a whole group of kids here who cheered, and that really touched me. What a huge encouragement they were! Clearly there was a party happening at this aid station and I admittedly took a bit longer to get out of the aid station than I should have; the volunteers were just so helpful and cheerful. This was when I put my headlamp on; it was just getting dark and while the road had been doable by moonlight, this section involved several rocky creek crossings and was far too dark to do without a lamp.
After about a mile or so of criss-crossing the creek, we took an old service road that climbed up for quite awhile, then was a very nice runnable descent most of the way down to the aid station. About a mile before the aid station, the course split off on a side trail that was quite rocky and had a few steep climbs. This was my only fall of the day, as I scraped up my knee on a sharp rock. I could hear the aid station long before I could see it, but just as I wondered if I would ever get there, we crossed the main road, ran through a picnic area, and arrived at the aid station just before 10:30. My crew was ready for me! Elisa had come as well at this point, so she and Kat could hike with me. I took a few minutes to retape my feet, and put a bandaid on my knee. We made sure to have plenty of water and snacks, knowing the climb ahead would be quite difficult. But I felt really great, having arrived at my goal time and feeling pretty strong physically, far better than I had anticipated feeling at this point.
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| Mudhole Gap Trail (on a training run) |
After about a mile or so of criss-crossing the creek, we took an old service road that climbed up for quite awhile, then was a very nice runnable descent most of the way down to the aid station. About a mile before the aid station, the course split off on a side trail that was quite rocky and had a few steep climbs. This was my only fall of the day, as I scraped up my knee on a sharp rock. I could hear the aid station long before I could see it, but just as I wondered if I would ever get there, we crossed the main road, ran through a picnic area, and arrived at the aid station just before 10:30. My crew was ready for me! Elisa had come as well at this point, so she and Kat could hike with me. I took a few minutes to retape my feet, and put a bandaid on my knee. We made sure to have plenty of water and snacks, knowing the climb ahead would be quite difficult. But I felt really great, having arrived at my goal time and feeling pretty strong physically, far better than I had anticipated feeling at this point.
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| Waiting for me at the aid station |
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| Waiting at Elizabeth Furnace |
Typical terrain up Sherman Gap
(from a training run)
We climbed over Sherman Gap quite quickly, and in what seemed like no time we were down at the road. Melissa had come and parked over here (not official crew access point, ssshhhh) because Kat didn't think she'd be up to the whole 12 miles, but she decided to continue. We stopped briefly to fill up water bottles and then continued up the hill. This road section had felt like forever on a training run, but went by surprisingly quickly that night, and we found ourselves at the Veach East aid station. They were having a great time out there, fabulous volunteers. They gave me some ginger chews and we headed up the next climb.
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| Sherman Gap summit |
Again my pacers wanted to hurry hurry hurry, and while I very much appreciate what they were trying to do, I just physically wasn't up to that pace and started having the worst stomach issues I'd had all day. Physically, this was the worst I felt the entire race. The terrain is challenging and it's a long climb, but no worse than the other trails we run often in the mountains. I think it was mostly that I was going too quickly for the strength I had at the time. Even so, I did very much enjoy their company, since I had run most of the last 50 miles or so alone. And I was glad to have two people with me, because even when I didn't feel like talking, they could talk to each other and just listening helped take my mind off the climbing. They were very encouraging and kept reminding me of how far I had already come, and very much believed that I would be able to finish. That helped a lot.
The climb up to Veach Gap in daylight
(from a training run)
Finally, we reached the Veach West aid station around 3am. I was so happy to know that the toughest sections were all behind me, and all that remained of the course was less than 14 miles of roads. I had to leave my safety runners, and Elisa went home after this section, but I had been so grateful for their company. Physically, I was still feeling pretty rough from pushing so hard up and over the mountains. I decided to walk for a bit to try to regain control of my stomach, especially since I had 5 hours to cover 14 miles. No need to rush.
At this point, I'm not sure what happened. Maybe it was because I was feeling so awful physically and concentrating on keeping my stomach together. Maybe it was they physical exhaustion of being awake and on my feet for 23 hours straight. Maybe it was just confusion from being alone in the dark in an unfamiliar place. But whatever it was, whatever happened, I somehow took a wrong turn. I noticed that it had been a little while since I saw a chem light, but I remembered Ray talking at the race briefing about how people often take the chem lights off the roads back into town and they will work to replace them, but it's not unusual for them to be missing. So I continued for a little while, but gradually got more concerned. I wasn't a very good judge of time or distance at this point. I tried to turn around, but I got disoriented at a three way intersection and wasn't 100% sure which way I had come from. Of course, I didn't have my index card with turn-by-turn directions, that had been forgotten at the last aid station. I briefly considered knocking on a door, but then remembered that it was 4am and that would likely not be appreciated.
I had studied maps of the course quite a bit before coming, and knew that I was heading back up to the road that would lead me back to the course. I figured I was taking the long way around, and may have to backtrack a few miles, but I knew if I kept going that direction I would eventually reach the course. I was concerned, because this race demands that you return, under your own power, to the point where you left the course, in order to be counted as an official finisher. I knew I had some extra time, but my concern was that I honestly had no idea where I had left the course. Once again I had to make some conscious mental choices to stay in the race and not lose myself in the what-ifs, but honestly this wasn't too difficult somehow, maybe because I knew I'd eventually get back on course and wasn't completely and hopelessly lost in the woods.
My plan, if you can call it that, worked. I found myself at the sign that says mile 93 left, mile 65 right. Only I came at it from the wrong way, and had skipped an aid station. At least now I was seeing runners again, even if they were coming from the other direction. I asked one how far the aid station was, and he said maybe a mile. Then an SUV pulled up, one of the race director's people. I talked to him about what happened, and he said that if I went down the hill and checked in at the aid station, I could continue and finish. That was a huge relief! At least I knew where I was and where I needed to go now. I had done an extra 4 miles, but it could definitely have been worse and I still had plenty of time.
I ran down the hill and checked in. The lady was quite confused and seemed to think I had already been there. Oh, my friend, I can assure you that while I have been looking for you for a long time, I have not been here. I suspect that it was the lady with number 28 (I was 29), who had been through recently. At any rate, I continued, knowing that I had now covered more than the full course. I ran back up the hill. One of the blisters on my feet popped, which caused a few minutes of sharp pain but I retaped it the best I could and continued on. I was determined to get down the mountain, especially now that I had overcome getting lost.
One more aid station at the top of the hill. I thanked the volunteers and started down the mountain. The sun was now coming up, and it was a really nice morning. I wished my legs had been just a bit stronger so I could run the whole thing, but I still was able to run quite a bit. I took note of the landmarks on the way down-the National Forest sign, the road turning from dirt to paved, the last switchback, the dam. I took special note of completing 100 miles on my watch at just after 6am. Soon I was hiking up the last long hill towards town and the final aid station. It seemed like I would never get there, but of course I did. And there was my crew! Somehow they weren't overly concerned about my arrival time and were surprised when I told them I was already at 101 miles. I happily shed my pack and just took my water bottle for the last leg of the race. They told me my husband and kids were waiting at the finish. And I insisted on getting my index card-I refused to risk any more wrong turns on the way back to the fairgrounds. I think my crew realized I was really serious about that, because they drove slowly enough to lead me through the turns on the way back.
Running up Water Street, we passed the farm, and the pungent aroma of cows filled the air. I have never been so happy to smell cows in all my life! I almost began to cry, because this was such an obvious landmark and I knew I was so close, and I was really going to finish.
If anyone had followed me through town, they would have thought I was completely nuts. I was talking to myself the entire time, reciting the names of the roads I needed to turn on and focusing on reading and rereading every street sign. Plus I was pretty emotional at the thought of my kids waiting for me at the finish. I walked a lot of this part, because I was determined to run the lap around the horse track when I arrived.
For such a small town, Woodstock sure had some long miles back to the fairgrounds, but eventually, finally, there in the distance I could see the fairgrounds and the exhibition building where the race was headquartered. So exciting!! As I came in, I saw my crew, my kids, my husband, and a few other people, who cheered for me as I came through the gate. I still had a long lap to run around the track, but I ran the whole thing as hard as I could. My kids were holding up signs for me near the finish. Ian had come up about 50 yards to hold his sign, and I had him run to the finish with me. They held up the tape so we could cross the official finish line. My watch read exactly 104 miles in 27 hours, 7 minutes.
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| Cutest signs ever! How could you not keep running? |
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| My watch, with bonus miles |
I did it! I really really did it! Exhilaration, fatigue, excitement, celebration, and many other emotions were all twisted and tangled in the moments after the finish. I talked to my family and friends, they congratulated me, we cheered in another runner a few minutes later, I talked to a few other runners and their crews....my head was spinning but in the best way possible. Eventually I went back to get a shower before the awards breakfast started at 9am.
My dedicated crew left at this point to get back home, so I thanked them many times over for all their extraordinary help over the weekend. The confidence they gave me was invaluable, they took fabulous care of me, they never complained about all the driving or lack of sleep or setting up and tearing down at every aid station, they did everything for me that they possibly could and I am incredibly grateful for them.
After an abbreviated ice bath and short shower, I headed over to the awards breakfast. While the race is certainly held with the 24 hour goal as the focus, under 28 hours are official finishers. All finishers get a very nice duffel bag, and the 24 hour finishers also get the infamous belt buckle. The race is small enough that each finisher got to talk. They went from the slowest to the fastest. Since I was one of the slowest, that meant I got the combination of the least amount of sleep (none) with the least amount of preparation time for my speech, so I'm not sure how coherent I was and I forgot many of the things I would have loved to have said. But as we got closer to the winners, who had at least had a nap, if not slept for much of the night while I was on the other side of the mountain, the comments got more coherent and more interesting.
There were a few common themes; most notably, the "Wow, did I ever underestimate this race course, it was much tougher than I anticipated it being" and the "I really heard this race was not well supported and the aid stations were hit or miss, but actually it was very well run and I was impressed." I would agree with both those sentiments; with the exception of the one course snafu (which I think I was the only one to do, so it was probably just my own delirium), it was adequately marked. Some aid stations were lacking a little, but other aid stations were fabulous. I do think it would be possible to run this race with just the drop bags, although having a crew made it immensely easier.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this race. I especially liked how much more mental strategizing went into this race. I feel like the short races are really about brute athleticism, which I lack. There isn't really much strategy in a 5K race, other than run as fast as you can. But this race, even compared to a 50 miler, had a lot more strategy-the run/walk decisions from the very beginning, how to pace yourself, how to stay on top of eating and drinking, and how to handle challenges. In a race that long, you're going to encounter something challenging-weather, terrain, blisters, knee/ankle issues, stomach issues, fatigue, mental lows, getting lost, missing a time goal-as much as possible, I planned for every issue I could anticipate, so if/when they arose, I already knew what to do and had any supplies I needed no later than the next crew location. I feel like this race played very well to my strengths-mental fortitude, stubborn determination, and indifference to physical discomfort. Short of a broken bone, I was not going to quit this race, and my mind was steadfastly made up to that effect before I ever crossed the starting line. There were people there who DNF'd but who were far more athletic than me-better runners, faster runners, more experienced runners. I think the only thing I had more of was stubbornness.
Two days later, I'm amazed at how good I feel honestly. I expected to be practically immobile and exhausted, but actually I feel great. I drained the blisters, so they feel much better. My muscles feel great-no soreness, just a little fatigue. The only exception is one knee which has been quite swollen and red and a bit sore. Otherwise I feel fabulous. That shocks me really. I felt much worse after my first 50K than I do now.
I would love to go back to Old Dominion. I honestly went into this race expecting a sub-par event, but ended up being very impressed at the number and quality of the volunteers out there, the accessibility of the aid stations both with and without crew access, and the variety of the course. Although there are a lot of road miles on this course (55 miles unpaved, 10 miles paved according to the official stats), it didn't feel monotonous. I notoriously avoid roads and only run trails, but most of the roads felt more like wide, easy trails. There were a lot of rolling hills and beautiful scenery so it didn't feel so long. And the trail miles were very challenging, which I enjoyed. Rocky, steep, and wet-but gorgeous trails that are well-maintained. A crew is invaluable at the race, but not a necessity-drop bags were available fairly frequently, so with the right planning, you could run this race without a crew. I'm hoping to go back next year and try again, if possible with my crew. You ladies available? :)
I feel like my training prepared me well for this event. I was well-trained, but not over-trained. I felt rested coming into the race, and had no nagging injuries. If I ran another hundred miler, I would probably train similarly, with the exception of training tailored to the specific course. For example, if I ran Old Dominion again, I would work more on running downhill roads harder to gain more time there. I feel like I hiked very well, but could have made up a lot more time on the runnable sections. I also feel like I did a good job fueling-constantly eating throughout the day, lots of items like tortillas with chicken and rice, fruit, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Even if I didn't particularly feel like eating I continued to do so, and I think that kept me from ever bonking in the 27 hours.
The main thing I would change if I ran another hundred would be how I approach my crew. The first time these awesome ladies crewed me, it was for Mountain Masochist and I knew I'd be riding the bubble on time cutoffs for that race. They got me in and out of aid stations with lightning speed, and pushed me hard when pacing, which is exactly what I needed for that race. When I asked them to crew me for this one, I wasn't sure what to expect for time. 28 hours is on the short side for 100 mile races, and while my pace chart felt conservative I had no idea how much I would slow down after 50 miles. As it turns out, I was able to keep a pretty steady pace, and I wasn't nearly as rushed as I had anticipated. So looking back, I wish I would have taken more time at the aid stations, and let my crew know that while time is still of the essence, there is time to take a minute or so and just double-check that I have everything I want. I left the first two aid stations without items I intended to bring with me, and the third aid station in the wrong shoes. I made turn by turn direction cards with section notes, but many times left the aid station without them, including when I went off course. These are all things I had written down, but my crew was doing such a great job getting me back on the trail that we didn't stop to check. Similarly, I should have expressed more clearly to my pacers before the event how much of a buffer was built into the time for that section. They wanted to bank me time, which I very much appreciate and love their hearts to come out and push me in the middle of the night, but I wasn't quite strong enough at that point and I think it may have contributed to my mental state being such that I went off course right afterwards. If I had made that clearer before the race, they would have known that I meant it and I wasn't just complaining because I was tired. In shorter races, it is absolutely worth rushing out as quickly as possible, but because of the length of the race, I think I would have done better to take an extra minute at each crew aid station to be sure I had what I needed, and possibly minimized blisters and leaving the course which cost me far more time in the end.
I had the support of so many fabulous people to be able to run this race. Thank you to Jeremy, who watched our kids every Saturday for months so I could get long runs in. Thank you to my amazing crew, Kat and Melissa, who spent their entire weekend supporting me, getting to every aid station on time and with all my supplies at the ready, eager to help me with whatever they could and to cheer me on. Thank you to Kat and Elisa, who ran with me in the middle of the night over the most challenging terrain of the race, and kept me in good spirits and my mind off the task at hand, making those miles go by quickly. Thank you to the race directors and volunteers, who put on a fabulous race. Thank you to all my running friends, who have made training even more fun than the races themselves. I love being a part of this community!
I would love to go back to Old Dominion. I honestly went into this race expecting a sub-par event, but ended up being very impressed at the number and quality of the volunteers out there, the accessibility of the aid stations both with and without crew access, and the variety of the course. Although there are a lot of road miles on this course (55 miles unpaved, 10 miles paved according to the official stats), it didn't feel monotonous. I notoriously avoid roads and only run trails, but most of the roads felt more like wide, easy trails. There were a lot of rolling hills and beautiful scenery so it didn't feel so long. And the trail miles were very challenging, which I enjoyed. Rocky, steep, and wet-but gorgeous trails that are well-maintained. A crew is invaluable at the race, but not a necessity-drop bags were available fairly frequently, so with the right planning, you could run this race without a crew. I'm hoping to go back next year and try again, if possible with my crew. You ladies available? :)
I feel like my training prepared me well for this event. I was well-trained, but not over-trained. I felt rested coming into the race, and had no nagging injuries. If I ran another hundred miler, I would probably train similarly, with the exception of training tailored to the specific course. For example, if I ran Old Dominion again, I would work more on running downhill roads harder to gain more time there. I feel like I hiked very well, but could have made up a lot more time on the runnable sections. I also feel like I did a good job fueling-constantly eating throughout the day, lots of items like tortillas with chicken and rice, fruit, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Even if I didn't particularly feel like eating I continued to do so, and I think that kept me from ever bonking in the 27 hours.
The main thing I would change if I ran another hundred would be how I approach my crew. The first time these awesome ladies crewed me, it was for Mountain Masochist and I knew I'd be riding the bubble on time cutoffs for that race. They got me in and out of aid stations with lightning speed, and pushed me hard when pacing, which is exactly what I needed for that race. When I asked them to crew me for this one, I wasn't sure what to expect for time. 28 hours is on the short side for 100 mile races, and while my pace chart felt conservative I had no idea how much I would slow down after 50 miles. As it turns out, I was able to keep a pretty steady pace, and I wasn't nearly as rushed as I had anticipated. So looking back, I wish I would have taken more time at the aid stations, and let my crew know that while time is still of the essence, there is time to take a minute or so and just double-check that I have everything I want. I left the first two aid stations without items I intended to bring with me, and the third aid station in the wrong shoes. I made turn by turn direction cards with section notes, but many times left the aid station without them, including when I went off course. These are all things I had written down, but my crew was doing such a great job getting me back on the trail that we didn't stop to check. Similarly, I should have expressed more clearly to my pacers before the event how much of a buffer was built into the time for that section. They wanted to bank me time, which I very much appreciate and love their hearts to come out and push me in the middle of the night, but I wasn't quite strong enough at that point and I think it may have contributed to my mental state being such that I went off course right afterwards. If I had made that clearer before the race, they would have known that I meant it and I wasn't just complaining because I was tired. In shorter races, it is absolutely worth rushing out as quickly as possible, but because of the length of the race, I think I would have done better to take an extra minute at each crew aid station to be sure I had what I needed, and possibly minimized blisters and leaving the course which cost me far more time in the end.
I had the support of so many fabulous people to be able to run this race. Thank you to Jeremy, who watched our kids every Saturday for months so I could get long runs in. Thank you to my amazing crew, Kat and Melissa, who spent their entire weekend supporting me, getting to every aid station on time and with all my supplies at the ready, eager to help me with whatever they could and to cheer me on. Thank you to Kat and Elisa, who ran with me in the middle of the night over the most challenging terrain of the race, and kept me in good spirits and my mind off the task at hand, making those miles go by quickly. Thank you to the race directors and volunteers, who put on a fabulous race. Thank you to all my running friends, who have made training even more fun than the races themselves. I love being a part of this community!
Kim, Thanks for the report! Congratulations on your accomplishment! If you ever need extra crew support, let me know. You got me thinking about doing a 100 now...
ReplyDeleteBrava, Kim, brava. Great race report, thanks for sharing. You executed your plan -- from the very start -- flawlessly. Congratulations!
ReplyDelete