3/7/2015-3/8/2015 State #39 - NC
There is no such thing as an easy 100 miler. There is much to learn.
Zion was going to be epic.
Late last year I had decided that I would run the Zion 100 in April of 2015. Everything was in set in motion. Lots of hill training, a few trail/hill ultras in Jan and Feb and I would be "ready" for Zion. Then life happened. I received a wedding invitation from a childhood friend set for the same date as the Zion 100. Don't people know not to get married during race weekend? How inconsiderate! Kidding aside, it was time for a backup plan. A race in March I thought, and it would be the Graveyard 100.
The Graveyard 100 took place on 3/7-8 2015 in Outer Banks, North Carolina. It is a point-to-point (my first) 100 mile road race that is 100 % pavement (also my first). The course is as flat as a pan cake. The total elevation gain shown on my Garmin was 1,371 with a loss of 1,224. This race is unique in that aid stations are at least 20 miles apart. Unmanned water stations are spread across the course every 7-8 miles.
Aid Station 1 - Mile 21
Aid Station 2 - Mile 41
Aid Station 3 - Mile 63
Aid Station 4 - Mile 87
Idiots who run this race solo without the assist of a crew receives a duel
toned buckle in recognition. As usual, I traveled out for this race alone. I was extremely jealous of crewed runners with their ever present family and friends supplying them throughout the entire race. It is a completely different race between the crewed and solo runners. Another big factor was the unpredictability of weather. The race has know for to experience extreme cold and winds. Temperature during this year's race ranged between 21-mid 40.
While sadistic, the Race Director, and the Graveyard 100 organization put on a world class event. They were well organized, friendly, and above-and-beyond helpful before, during, and after the race. Without the awesome volunteers at each AS, the result of the race could have been very different.
While sadistic, the Race Director, and the Graveyard 100 organization put on a world class event. They were well organized, friendly, and above-and-beyond helpful before, during, and after the race. Without the awesome volunteers at each AS, the result of the race could have been very different.
Coming into this race I had just completed a grueling 50K in Kentucky where I sprained my left ankle pretty good three weeks prior. With a lot rest and treatments, I placed the ankle at about 95% at the start of the race. That would be mistake number one.
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| Cankle 3 weeks ago |
With the forecast a few days prior to race start, I put together my packing list for each station with 4 food portions (peanut butter filled pretzels, cliff bar, chocolate covered espresso beans, TJ's almond cookies, and Hammer gel) between each Aid Station and 5 portions between AS3 to AS4. I figured I would pickup food as I reached each station in order to reach the next. This I learned was mistake number two.
I also put two layers of long sleeves with a mid-weight jacket from the start to AS3 with an additional layer with a heavier jacket at AS3. I wore CWX compression tights for the entire race. They were rated for 40-55 degrees... the warmest pants I had. This was mistake number three.
Finally, given that I had run a good number of trail ultras recently with far more intensive elevation changes, I thought that the flat course would make it an "easy 100". This was the final mistake.
The resort town of OBX was a quiet during this time of the year. Lots of business were closed for the winter. It was a fairly straight forward 1.5 hour drive from Norfolk airport to the town of Corolla, NC. I took a red eye flight on Thursday night 3/5 and arrived early morning of Friday 3/6. I got into town with enough time to met with my friends Jaeson, Ethan, and Elizabeth for lunch prior to the race brief at 1:00PM Friday.
After a long overnight and day of traveling, it was a quick dinner at the host resort and off for a few hours of precious sleep before the 5:00 AM start the next morning.
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| All smiles at race brief with Ethan, Elizabeth, and Jaeson |
After a long overnight and day of traveling, it was a quick dinner at the host resort and off for a few hours of precious sleep before the 5:00 AM start the next morning.
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| at the start, 21 degrees |
90 starters gathered for the Jimi version of the Star Spangled Banner at about quarter to 5:00 AM. Then we were off. We lost sight of speedsters Ethan and Elizabeth after the first mile. Jaeson and I would stick together for another 67 miles. It was COLD. While my body maintained warmth my hands lost feeling even with three layers of gloves . We headed north bound for the first 1.5 miles of the course before turning around on southbound Highway 12 for the rest of the journey.
We started the race very well and averaged about 13:45 for the first 50. We ran on as many patches of lawn as we could find along the way. My Hoka Stinson made the miles of pavement as tolerable as possible. But the continuous pounding would eventually take its toll. We crossed Bonner Bridge (mile 50) just past 11 hours.
First sign of trouble did not come for me until about mile 60. I had run out of food just a few miles short of AS3. I could feel things tightening up and it was the first time all day my mind went into that dark place. "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID" I said to myself. I had overestimated my speed between stations and underestimated the portions of food needed. When we finally got into AS3, I had to take a long break to revive energy level and legs. It is really amazing how simple the human body functions. In order to keep running, you really need just three things, food, water, and air. You take away one of those three and things start to fall apart.
With the rest at AS3, I was out again toward AS4. I left AS3 a few minutes before Jaeson knowing that he'd soon caught up. We continued for several miles and I could tell that he was getting stronger as I was fading. I asked that he go ahead without me. He refused and said we should work together. He had a chance to PR yet he was willing to stay with me. I was not going to do that and hold him back. After some hesitation I finally convinced him to reluctantly move ahead. He is a good man.
By myself, I saw things. I saw meerkat like creatures staring at me in the darkness from amongst the sand dunes. I took photos of them only to see dark frames after the race. I swear they were real.
About 10 miles before AS4(87m) I slowed significantly. I can tell that my left ankle was beginning to swell. Maybe due to some compensation or maybe the hard surface, now I felt a stabbing pain in the back of my right knee and calf. As I slowed and walked more often, I became mildly hypothermic. By the time I stumbled into AS4 I was shivering uncontrollably and teeth clacking. I knew I was in bigger trouble than I thought when I saw the look on the faces of the volunteers. Heater, blankets, hot drinks/food, and another 30 min there (as the AS volunteer said), "brought me back to life." I put on a brave face and left the tent. The first steps outside the tent send a spine numbing shiver throughout my body. This was not going to be easy. The inability to run fast enough to stay warm made me understood why runners would drop eve after 70, 80 miles... ever so close to the finish.
The care at AS4 carried me to about 94 even though I was only shuffling along. then the shivers returned. Saving grace was the second sunrise... It is magical. You can almost hear its music. It saved me from a complete shutdown.
Just warm enough to keep moving. Past the last water station I went into a gas station and begged the lady for a cup of coffee since I carried no cash (another mistake). Then I sat in the corner gulping hot coffee while it burned my mouth. That was just enough to carry me to the end. The last 5 miles was a death march.
I found that familiar feeling of emptiness and clarity around mile 97 while barely walking. It's that feeling I felt only at a 100 mile race. Its the feeling that that keeps me coming back. Its a feeling of freedom. I no longer cared about my finish time; not a care about catching the guy in front... and not a care about anything other than moving. Such clarity from the pain and physical emptiness. Gone was the ever present anger, pains, and regrets of the past. I heard the birds chirp, the guy with a power tool a block away, a child cheering for her father. Running a 100 miler stripes me bare of any pretense I put on the world and upon myself. I am only what I am capable of doing, and I was doing everything I am capable of. I cried. Ever so briefly, and fleeting, this feeling is the reason I run ultras.
29:11:30 is a Personal Worst. But I am as proud and happy with this finish my previous two 100 mile finishes. I had done it without the assist of any pain medication for the first time I had done it without a crew, earning me the two toned hardware.
Until the next one.
One race, one mile, and one step at a time,
Jeff
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| Jaeson and me after first sunrise |
We started the race very well and averaged about 13:45 for the first 50. We ran on as many patches of lawn as we could find along the way. My Hoka Stinson made the miles of pavement as tolerable as possible. But the continuous pounding would eventually take its toll. We crossed Bonner Bridge (mile 50) just past 11 hours.
First sign of trouble did not come for me until about mile 60. I had run out of food just a few miles short of AS3. I could feel things tightening up and it was the first time all day my mind went into that dark place. "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID" I said to myself. I had overestimated my speed between stations and underestimated the portions of food needed. When we finally got into AS3, I had to take a long break to revive energy level and legs. It is really amazing how simple the human body functions. In order to keep running, you really need just three things, food, water, and air. You take away one of those three and things start to fall apart.
With the rest at AS3, I was out again toward AS4. I left AS3 a few minutes before Jaeson knowing that he'd soon caught up. We continued for several miles and I could tell that he was getting stronger as I was fading. I asked that he go ahead without me. He refused and said we should work together. He had a chance to PR yet he was willing to stay with me. I was not going to do that and hold him back. After some hesitation I finally convinced him to reluctantly move ahead. He is a good man.
By myself, I saw things. I saw meerkat like creatures staring at me in the darkness from amongst the sand dunes. I took photos of them only to see dark frames after the race. I swear they were real.
About 10 miles before AS4(87m) I slowed significantly. I can tell that my left ankle was beginning to swell. Maybe due to some compensation or maybe the hard surface, now I felt a stabbing pain in the back of my right knee and calf. As I slowed and walked more often, I became mildly hypothermic. By the time I stumbled into AS4 I was shivering uncontrollably and teeth clacking. I knew I was in bigger trouble than I thought when I saw the look on the faces of the volunteers. Heater, blankets, hot drinks/food, and another 30 min there (as the AS volunteer said), "brought me back to life." I put on a brave face and left the tent. The first steps outside the tent send a spine numbing shiver throughout my body. This was not going to be easy. The inability to run fast enough to stay warm made me understood why runners would drop eve after 70, 80 miles... ever so close to the finish.
The care at AS4 carried me to about 94 even though I was only shuffling along. then the shivers returned. Saving grace was the second sunrise... It is magical. You can almost hear its music. It saved me from a complete shutdown.
 |
| around 94-95 when the photographer showed I instinctively wanted to smile but this was the best I came up with. my best Bob DeNiro |
Just warm enough to keep moving. Past the last water station I went into a gas station and begged the lady for a cup of coffee since I carried no cash (another mistake). Then I sat in the corner gulping hot coffee while it burned my mouth. That was just enough to carry me to the end. The last 5 miles was a death march.
I found that familiar feeling of emptiness and clarity around mile 97 while barely walking. It's that feeling I felt only at a 100 mile race. Its the feeling that that keeps me coming back. Its a feeling of freedom. I no longer cared about my finish time; not a care about catching the guy in front... and not a care about anything other than moving. Such clarity from the pain and physical emptiness. Gone was the ever present anger, pains, and regrets of the past. I heard the birds chirp, the guy with a power tool a block away, a child cheering for her father. Running a 100 miler stripes me bare of any pretense I put on the world and upon myself. I am only what I am capable of doing, and I was doing everything I am capable of. I cried. Ever so briefly, and fleeting, this feeling is the reason I run ultras.
29:11:30 is a Personal Worst. But I am as proud and happy with this finish my previous two 100 mile finishes. I had done it without the assist of any pain medication for the first time I had done it without a crew, earning me the two toned hardware.
 |
| Jaeson and me showing off our buckles. Jae earning a new 100 mile PR. |
One race, one mile, and one step at a time,
Jeff
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