Pain. That's my most significant memory from my first go at the 100k distance. In college, I was a distance swimmer, often competing in the 500 and the 1650. I think a direct comparison between those distances swimming and the relatively shorter ultra distance that is the 100k is fairly apt. They could all accurately be described as long sprints. At least that's how the 500 and the 1650 felt to me in college and that's how a 100k felt to me this past weekend. Spending about 10 hours at an average perceived effort of around 7 was just excruciating. There were moments where I relaxed into an easier pace and there were other moments on climbs where I may have reached an 8 or a 9 but putting myself at a 7 for that long was so uncomfortable.
Shorter ultra distance races are certainly not my specialty and after this 100k I am somewhat relieved about that fact. That being said, I'm really proud of how I performed at a distance for which I wasn't totally confident in a particular strategy. I'd set my goal at a sub 10 hour finish, which I didn't quite achieve but more on that later, which would require running about a 9:30/mile pace for the 62.5 miles of the race. I'd never approached a race with this ambitious of a pace goal. For me, I knew running 9:30s for 62 miles would be right on the edge of my physical abilities.
I started out fast, but controlled. I told myself to relax into the race and just try to keep my tempo high as I made my way through the rolling hills and a mix of both trail and pavement for the first 7 miles. Feeling good, I refilled a half liter at an aid station and went into what I think was objectively the most challenging section of the race from a technical perspective. The trail led in and out of washes, climbing and descending steeply a long technical, rocky trails that required every ounce of concentration to keep up one's momentum. I found myself thinking that if the rest of the race looked like this, I might as well kiss a 10 hour finish goodbye. But after about 5 miles of rhythmless technicality, the trail remained rocky but led into a gradual descent of a couple miles to the next aid station around mile 13.
I didn't stop for long and continued onto a section of pavement where I pulled back a bit on my effort, taking the 4 miles with relative ease leading into the town of Blue Diamond for the first time. I refilled on fluids and headed out for an ~8 mile section called the Landmine Loop. From here on out, the course was almost exclusively made up of beautiful, runnable trails. I maintained a solid pace and the Landmind Loop flew by. I remember being in a perfect flow for this section, legs still feeling good and the miles ticking by quickly and easily. I pulled into Blue Diamond for the second time, met my crew, chugged a liter of Skratch High Carb and LMNT electrolyte mixture and then got back moving within a minute or two.
The next section was difficult. I climbed out of Blue Diamond steadily at mile 27.5 before reaching a relatively steep section of climbing around mile 29. I kept the legs moving and let my effort level increase to a 9/10 while I chugged up the steepest sections. Gaining the rocky ridge, I took just a moment to gaze at the vista of red rock mountains unfolding before me. The landscape west of Las Vegas is spectacular. As I made my way down the descent on the other side of the climb I worried to myself that I may have pushed too hard in the preceding miles. My quads were feeling fatigued and I was moving a bit less nimbly than I had an hour previously.
It didn't help my morale that a couple miles later, due to course vandalism, I made a wrong turn and ended up at the Late Night Aid when I was trying to make my way to Mud Springs. Luckily I was still able to fill up on fluids thanks to some aid station volunteers and I retraced my steps, adding 2.5 miles in the process, and found the turn off to Mud Spring. It actually took me a bit to recover mentally from the addition of those extra miles. I was right on the edge of the pace that would allow me to hit my sub 10 hour goal and with those 2.5 added miles that now seemed totally impossible.
I arrived at Mud Spring Aid and told the volunteers about the course markings further back. Luckily, I think they caught it with enough time that no one else made the same mistake I did. I snagged myself some more electrolytes at Mud Spring and headed out into the desert once again, feeling a bit out of sorts due to my directional mishap and the fact that I was pretty darn tired with just a little less than half the miles still to complete. I'm happy with how I handled this section though, it took some doing but I successfully shifted my mindset to not caring about my official finish time, and instead focusing on the original goal: completing a 100k in under 10 hours. After all, I was still on pace to do that even if I'd have to run a little farther to get to the actual finish line.
I hit a nice rhythm between miles 35-42 and just kept up a steady tempo whilst navigating the rolling hills that made up much of the course. Even though the temperature was nice, highs in the low 60s, the unrelenting sun was a factor and I could feel it beginning to sap some of my energy. A long, gradual descent led me toward my next crew location, back at Late Night, the terminus of my wrong turn. You can find a video of this entire aid station stop on my Instagram, it was probably my longest even though it only took about a minute from start to finish. "I'm right on the edge," I told my crew. And I was not exaggerating. If I was a car, the wheels were being held on by duct tape.
It was an interesting experience for me, pushing this hard physically. I feel like it's possible these shorter, more intense races are more physically difficult and the longer, slower efforts more difficult mentally. While my experience toward the end of something like a 200 is this overwhelming and utter exhaustion, my mental space between miles 45 and 58 or so of this 100k was of a much more acute kind of pain. Everything hurt and was uncomfortable and I was holding my body at a pace and a tempo that I knew, eventually, would become unsustainable. Entering the last 20 miles, I was thinking there was around a 50/50 chance I would end up blowing up and slowing way down.
But I didn't let up. After all, my goal of a sub 10 hour 100k was in sight and I continued pushing forward and up a long, grinding albeit gradual climb. At the next aid station, the volunteer asked me how I was doing and I think I managed to squeak out a whispered, "probably alright." But I jetted off, my legs still carrying me at a good pace. I had 6 miles with 1000 feet of climbing to the next aid, not super steep but another grinding section. At this point I put on some music, in this particular instance the album Impera by the band Ghost. And that totally changed my life! Running to an aid station called Satan's Escalator while listening to the theatrical metal music somehow felt right and it was like a drug coursed through my veins. I felt stronger and more capable all of a sudden. I've never had music effect me quite like this and it was a beautiful thing!
I made it to Satan's Escalator and knew that I had it basically all downhill to the finish. I didn't stop at any of the aid stations in the last 8 miles except to ditch my sunglasses in favor of my normal ones at the last crewed location, 4 miles from the finish. I thought I might even be able to squeak my finish in sub-10, but it was not to be, even though my fastest mile of the whole race came 62 in with exactly a 7:00. I'd been reinvigorated after a tough section and I flew through the last section of the race, a gradual non-technical downhill that felt so good.
At 100k on my watch I clocked myself right around 9 hours and 40 minutes. Goal achieved. At that point I hit a slight uphill in the last three miles and pretty much knew my legs weren't going to be getting me to the finish in under 20 minutes. I kept a decent pace but crossed the finish line in 10:05. Still a course record and still got the win, but just missing what I had wanted originally.
Overall my first 100k was a massive success! I'm not sure I've ever pushed my body like that before. It was such an intense effort between miles 42 and 56 to keep up the tempo, navigating rolling hills while literally everything hurt. I was destroyed the next day too, at least as sore as I've been after longer efforts although not quite as exhausted overall. I hope that I can take some of this newly gained mental fortitude in the wake of this effort with me into 2025 when I return to the 200 mile distances. The actual feelings one goes through in the various distances don't quite relate perfectly to one another, but in the end suffering is suffering. And practice makes perfect, so hopefully this form of suffering can propel me to success in the other!
I'll be back soon with a recap of my year in ultrarunning. Needless to say I was really pleased to end my 2024 race season with a successful effort at a new distance. I said at one point during the race that "I'm never doing a race under 100 miles again" and at this juncture, I feel like I might stick to that commitment. Toward the end I so badly wanted to walk uphill or just jog pleasantly back down, but in these short(er) intense efforts, you just can't do that. I think I learned that I am capable of a bit more than I give myself credit for on the speed front, although I won't pretend to be anywhere near the elite in that regard. But it was fun! And if you're looking for a great, runnable, fast, and beautiful 100k, check out Red Rock. Unlike almost any other race that advertises a location like a National Park, the Red Rock 100k actually does go through Red Rock Canyon, which is awesome. The community is great and the Vegas area is an underrated addition to a trail runner's bucket list.
Thanks to my friends Cameron and Kris for coming to crew me (sorry to Kris for snapping at you at the first aid station, I still feel a little bad about that!). I always say that ultrarunning is a team sort and I could not have run nearly as fast without these two. And thanks to Ultraspire for the pack I ran in, the Spry. This was my first race representing the brand and I had a great time running in something more minimalist than what I'd been used to previously.
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