Matt Trappe photo at the top of Mt Werner
Coming into Run Rabbit Run 100, I was super excited. I
hadn’t run an ultra in three months and felt relatively rested. I had no injuries
and had spent time at altitude in the past
six weeks and had been sleeping and resting in my Hypoxico tent regularly. I had raced on Pikes
Peak with respectable times and recovered well from back to back
efforts overall. I had a job lined up
and the past few years of grad school energy could be redirected towards running
and family. I did have a mild summer
cold the week before the race with some diarrhea, which are two completely
different systems, but I found it to be a coincidental occurrence of viruses.
Running-wise I felt fine. In terms of
physical effort I knew I could run 100 miles, and felt confident that I could
have a solid race. I viewed RRR as a
“high stakes” race, but had coached myself in the weeks leading up to it to
treat it as an adventure mostly and not push too hard. I thought about simply
the act of finishing the 100, rather than winning the 100. That said I wanted to run comfortably all
afternoon and night, and if I found myself out front while doing so I wanted to
roll with it.
After being up for 24 hours dealing with the water in and
around our house, I met Basit Mustafa, for the drive up, settled into our condo
for the night with fellow Hoka teammates Darcy Africa and Jason Schlarb. Basit
had run the course before and wasa fine resource for tips. Jason had three guys lined up to crew, and asked
Basit if he could crew for him too, but Basit stuck with me. Darcy went solo
the whole race, with no crew but pre-placed drop bags, which scored huge
points. Jason even thought about asking her to crew for him while for his race, she was so organized. Race check in went
smooth that afternoon, with an irunfar chat.
The next morning came too quickly, and at noon the gun went off.
Right off the bat is a steady climb up the ski area, with
switch-backs and occasional steep climb but nothing ridiculous. The group of
guys stayed together for the first mile then spread out quickly. I felt excellent and had no problem topping
out at the gondola with Jasons Schlarb and Louthitt right behind, our pace
apparently subjectively slower than the prior year per Jason To the Mt Werner aid station mile 4.4 at just
over 10000 feet, it dipped into what would be seven miles of awesome single
track to Dry Lake aid station at mile 11. We would see the DL aid three times
in the race. On the short out and back to
the aid Jason and the two Tarahumara runners in the race (not to be culturally
insensitive, I can’t look up their names as there as no DNF runners listed)
passed, and I had about a five minute lead. I was thrilled to see the
Tarahumara runners come to Colorado
to run; it is a rare treat to have their talents here. The race then entered
the Fish Creek drainage, which was again a big highlight of singletrack for
almost 3000 feet down to see our crew for the first time at mile 17. I loved that technical downhill combined with
smooth contours near the top through willow bush thickets. The weather was cool
and overcast, with no signs of bad weather, good running weather.
Into FC aid station, I expected Basit to be there, but he
wasn’t so I dropped one of my two bike bottles with Jason’s posse and kept cruising
down the four mile pavement section back to town. I had no signs of anyone
behind and I held back on this section as it’d be easy to run 6 minute miles
and didn’t want to burn out. Basit
showed up driving up the hill, said he didn’t think we’d come through that fast
so he was late. No worries though, I was fine without aid anyway as my bottle
was half full so told him I’d see him at Halvorsen Hill (Olympia Aid 1, mile
21) for crew.
At the one stoplight on the whole route of course I was held
for the whole 2.5 minute stoplight cycle, and then into the base of Halvorsen
Hill, feeling fine, getting crew from Basit and seeing a lot of crew and
spectators for the first time. The 1500 foot climb started this section up
Gravel Mt and beyond, which would be a 20 mile loop back to Olympia,
and I heard cheers of someone arriving at Olympia
as I got five minutes up the hill.
Thus far, the race plan had gone well. I had been drinking
Vitargo regularly, about 350-400 calories per hour, and supplemented a real
food mixture of “feedbags” of rice, egg whites, and almond butter with less
oil. A bar here and there and all was good. This formula had worked well in
training too, and I planned on using no gels the whole race. All systems were
go, I was at the front, but still very comfortably running. No chafe, no foot
blisters, no issues, I looked forward to the night.
The climb up Quarry mountain and beyond to Cow creek (mile
35) was half dirt road climb followed by nice singletrack. Into Cow Creek I
felt a few stomach rumblings like lower GI but nothing feeling like the stomach
was turning off. Basit was there to crew, I quickly got out, and stopped to
relieve myself a mile later, surprisingly having some diarrhea and lower GI
cramps. I didn’t feel like eating
thereafter, and this was a bad sign. I
felt the pace slow, and tried to sip my Vitargo and water but it just didn’t go
in. I tried a banana I’d grabbed from Basit but that was not going to go down
either. I decided to walk the pace fast
to get things under control. I walked
the hill and ran the flats as the trail climbed gradually again, and then saw Schlarb
just behind, shirt off and looking ripped as usual. He passed, and then Meltzer
and Josh Arthur seconds behind. I felt
energy flagging, but kept the hike going all the way back to Olympic, being
passed by 7 guys and finally the women’s leader Michelle Yates on the descent
portion of the loop.
Into Olympia
things weren’t good. I had a talk with
Basit, and walked through the aid station looking for something palatable. The
Coke looked okay, so I sipped it and talked with Basit. I wasn’t close to
dropping. I felt drained, but knew I
could push back up the hill to Fish Creek.
With water and Coke I jogged out of the aid, and Roch Horton kindly
jogged with me for five minutes giving me advice. Those words of encouragement
energized me and I pushed along up the four miles, gradually feeling better.
Tim Olsen was just ahead as it was getting dark on the road, and as we climbed
I felt better and better and kept him close.
At Fish Creek, Basit gave me my Black Diamond mega- lighting
rig (aka “BD Polar-Icon model: - the “Rocho-Roch
Horton Vision Retina burner head and waist light combo”) and I was recharged. I was in 12th place or so, I knew I
had work to do and was charging. I felt fine
with the stomach rebounded and legs rejuvenated. On the long 3000 foot climb up Fish I soon passed
Paul Terranova and the two Tarahumaras, and then Michelle Yates with her bear
bell ringing into the night. Into Long Lake
#2 mile 52.2, I came out and soon passed Tim Olsen, then Jesse Haymes, on the
long dirt road at 10000 feet. At Summit
Lake I heard tell that
Iron Stomach Man Jeff Browning was just 7 minutes ahead. I knew I was pushing the pace to catch these
guys, but had little choice given the time I’d lost. I was in 5th place at this time.
The long 7.5 mile descent to Dry
Lake was fast on dirt
road, and could see Jeff close to the DL aid in the dark ahead as he has the
same mega-light that I do. He picked up
pace on seeing me, and we came in close together, meeting our crews. Bryon Powell, maybe you’ve heard of him?, did some quick mental calculus and said I’d
been making up five minutes per section on the leaders. This meant I’d win if I
kept the pace, and I felt I could at this mile 65.
The remaining descent to the “Nick Clark” aid station, I
passed Jeff exchanging pleasantries and felt fine, but it was cold and a shower
was soon to come. In 4th now,
I passed Jason, Karl a few minutes later, Josh Arthur, all coming back up from
the turnaround. I hit Nick Clark (Spring Creek aid, but Nick was there, which
trumps any naming system) aid mile 69.8 and Jeff was right behind. I felt good on the climb back up, and it showered
and blew wind, cooling things off significantly. At DL #2, mile 74.3, Basit was awesome
getting me set up in warm long sleeves and recharged, but coming out I could
see Jeff on the ascent as he’d left just before me, but I couldn’t muster any
gas. ½ mile later, my legs went
basically dead, glycogen done/gone.
I tried all the tricks I could to get it back; more Vitargo,
Ramen noodles from my bike bottle, Fein caffeine, but it just didn’t happen. I
walked, and walked the whole 7.5 miles back to Summit Lake
mile 81.9, and was getting very cold as the temps dropped. I knew I had nothing, had tried to rebound
hard, but I was literally swerving on the road with zero in my legs. My stomach was fine, which was a plus, but I
was toast. I got a ride out with a really nice local, game over.
So, I feel I gave my best.
I thought my perspective was spot on coming into the run, but something
clicked off and it didn’t happen as planned.
I’ve never to my memory had GI issues in any distance race less than 100
miles, but in the last two (WS and RRR) I’ve experienced shut down at miles 25
and 30 respectively. The good news is at SD 100 I was rock solid the whole run
on a severely hot day until I got off course (partly my fault), and I have run
100 milers through with no problems overall. I was unrecovered from SD when I
toed the WS line, so that may have ended the game at WS. I’ve also raced three to seven day adventure
races as teammates used to call me “Iron Stomach” Dave. The 100 milers though; they are an
enigma. My hat is off to the ones who
have the ability, the fortitude, the stomach, the planning, the history and
persistence to run 100’s successfully year after year, in hot or cold whether
on the podium or last place. It takes
real character to finish these, and they are a long fricking way. I sure am not
going to drop this distance, as I see much success ahead, and I will figure it
out.