MT Madness: What I Learned at MT

By Meghan McCarrick

How much gear can I fit in this truck? What am I forgetting?  Ugh, I wish I had packed this in tubs.  Obviously, I will need to stop at Walmart.   Ok, pulling out of the driveway, what is that noise??  What is he yelling??  OMG, I forgot my duffle.  Hmm…he said he put it in the cab already, that means that all the bananas and apples are still in the house, too.  I am never going to get on the road.  Ok, on the road…with my clothes this time.  Shoot, I need to stop for ice…like now.  I hope I remember the directions to Berryman.   Of course I do.  …maybe I should check.

To me, aid stationing translated to bring ALL the things and then bring duplicates of all the things.  THEN, find your clearheadedness once the race begins.  So, with all of the things in the truck, I pulled onto 44 to head down to one of my favorite Missouri spots to spend the weekend watching some of my favorite DRC peeps running at the 4th Annual Mark Twain Endurance Races.  I knew how to encourage hydrating and fueling, I knew how to cheerlead, I am comfortable helping dress a wound, but there was an area for which I was unprepared: pushing runners into believing in themselves, especially when they have willingly fallen prey to their own excuses.  I even had warning that there was some concern over our inexperience in dealing with hundred mile runners, but I figured we could handle anything thrown at us, especially with the clearheadedness.

Plenty of people roll into a 20 (or 45 or 70 or 95) mile aid station looking like dog crap, that’s no surprise.  Racing, especially on trails, is really no joke.  It is typically easy enough to encourage a little eating, drinking, filling up packs and then giving a quick kick in the pants to get a runner back out there and moving.  Sometimes you meet someone like “Power Nap”, who literally passes out in the chair, then pops back up and heads right back to the trail.  Or someone like “Santa”, who drops in, tells you his running history, talks about family, has some tea, then strolls to the finish knowing he’ll miss cut off, but isn’t willing to throw in the towel.  Occasionally, a runner needs some company and trail angels like Shari willingly walk with them to the finish.  Lots of times, people want to stop, and that is understandable.  They hurt.  They are exhausted.  They have lost focus.  Every OTHER time, we got them warmed up and heading back toward their goal.  Except for one time.

It was my turn to grab a snooze.  It was probably around 1:30 in the morning and though I doubted I could sleep, I climbed in the tent and covered myself with 2 quilts, and I tried.  I heard a runner approach, had some major FOMO, but squeezed my eyes shut and ignored it.  About 20 minutes later, I heard conversation with the same runner.  I shot up in “bed” (we’re gonna use that term loosely), popped on my shoes, and jumped out to see why in the world he was still there.   I walked over to the fire and one of the top male contenders in the 100 was sitting comfortably with no clear intention of leaving anytime soon.  I asked what was going on, he lazily chewed on a piece of pizza and mentioned lots of muscles, all lower leg, achilles, soleus, some ankle stuff, but he was pretty calm. I brought over a roller and he made a excruciating moan as I ran it up the inside of that lower leg.  But, c’mon, this is at 70 miles, plus he’s been sitting!  I tried getting him to stretch, he wouldn’t budge, he said he would try to walk to the next aid station… eventually, still making no move to get up.  I texted the volunteers and RD there and told them quickly what was going on.  I had noticed this runner was dehydrated earlier in the day and he had already admitted that he traveled a little too quickly his first 25 mile lap.  So, I offered to hike it out with him, knowing the guys we’d meet weren’t going to let him quit when I got him to home base.  I said we’ll just walk and if you feel like running, I will try to keep up.  It’ll be fun!  And then I said it with a bit harder voice, get your ass up.  Well, sometimes that works.  In this case, he tried and nearly fell over.  He cramped up and had to hold onto the chair.  I can’t be sure, but I think he had probably been sitting for 30 minutes, taking all that time to decide he was dropping out.  And that is what he wanted…a lift back.  I texted the start again and said to expect us.  We drove up the little wooded passage to the road and I kept prying to see if I could just turn around and we’d at least try to walk there. Every time he put on an anguished face or groaned, or grabbed at his leg.  I let guilt get to me and stopped questioning his decision.  We pulled up, he got out—a little more agilely than I expected—and within 10 minutes was walking with only a slight limp in flip flops back to his car.  I had looked at this guy as vulnerable and needing help and really having an injury that wouldn’t let him complete this race.  I TOTALLY GOT PLAYED.   And my inexperience totally screwed this guy's chances.

                                                                                                 

When performing a difficult task, our brain gives us all the reasons we need to just stop.  Our brain is doing its job; this is self-preservation.  The purpose of these ultra distance races is to challenge those excuses by maintaining the belief that the task can be endured. Sometimes, even a seasoned athlete, when tired, disillusioned, and in pain, loses sight and needs the reminder that unless there is a real injury, the excuses are ignorable.  Instead of pushing perseverance, which we talk about all the time in DRC, I allowed a runner to give his excuses power.  I have spent a lot of time thinking about that DNF. What I learned at MT is that it isn’t only about the gear or food or morale at an aid station.  I learned that the responsibility of preserving or restoring belief might momentarily fall in volunteer hands.  In the future, if those hands are mine, I am confident that I will recognize and focus on what is necessary to convince every runner to continue.   So, because of what I learned at MT, don’t plan to cut out from an aid station that I’m manning unless you are missing limb…even then, you’ll have to find a whole new level of energy to convince me you can't keep going.

Congratulations to all of you DRCers that ran MT this year, it was such a huge honor to be there in support of you guys!

Meg McC is first and foremost an active DRC member.  She is an avid runner when she isn't injured and an enthusiastic volunteer when she is.  The Berryman Trail is near and dear to her heart and she loves an opportunity to spend a weekend there, especially during a weekend with a SLUG Ultra.

MT Madness: This Run!

By Stephen Faron

"THIS run!" That is what I called the MT 100 over the last few years. I knew it could happen in 2015 if I stayed healthy for three months prior and if my work cooperated. Well, I had surgery on my left knee in April to clean up a frayed meniscus. After recover some recovery, I was feeling physically stronger. Unfortunately, then work didn't cooperate. May to August was pretty hot, as we all know. The building I was working in as a Union Drywall Taper was ten degrees hotter due to poor air circulation. It was miserable and I was having doubts.

I didn't really know I was going to train for this with a passion until DRC had a run this summer on Green Rock Trail, totaling about 13 miles. I ran 11 pretty steady, but had to hike the last two. We got a late start, around 8ish if I’m not mistaken, with the temperature in the mid-90s. Surprisingly, the next day, I felt good! I looked at a hundred-miler training schedule and the following week I put in 20 miles, plus added miles the day after. So I was able to do 20 on the Katy and bike 20 the next day on the Katy. I knew now "MY run," was on!

From there, I trained pretty hard. I ran and hiked big loops around Lost Valley and Lewis & Clark, eating and drinking at my truck in the lot; I cross-trained by biking at Lost Valley, Quail Ridge Park, and the Katy Trail. This continued until the Sunday the week before MT, then I worked Monday-Wednesday and took off Thursday and Friday to rest my legs. No workouts, just rest! This was “MY run”! I believed I could make it a long way; an exact mileage really made no difference. I was healthy for a change, and extremely happy and content with whatever result I got: a number didn’t make a difference.

As long as didn't fall down a ravine or get eaten by a cougar, I could run!  All day!  My running companions and the the volunteers at the aid stations made that day easier—they’re all Warriors to me.

At the DRC aid station.

Race day did go differently than I thought it would. I ran in three different pairs of old shoes because I thought they still had some life left in them. They had none. The terrain just shredded the bottom of my shoes, but I loved the course with its marginal ascents and descents. I took off and didn’t really stop running until mile 22 or so. Double hamstring cramps! It got a bit hotter than I thought it would. I kept going, though.

Start/Finish area, getting ready to head back out!

After my second 25-mile loop, the rolling hills buried me. I didn’t go out for the next loop as easily as I did the first two times. My lower half seized up on me and I couldn’t loosen back up. I stopped taking pain meds because I didn’t want to mask any injury to my knee: if it was going to shoot craps on me, I didn’t want to ruin it. Unbelievably to me, my right knee is the one that quit! I dropped out at the second aid station five miles away after starting my third loop.

I have no regrets. After a couple days off work to heal, I went back to ten-hour days. I was a bit sore and “creaky”, but I liked it!  That ache is my “buckle” for “MY run”! I’m so thankful to all my running groups and all the people who encouraged me to go for it. It really was the best experience! This run, to me, is a lesson. Things hardly ever fall into place the way we like; sometimes, the best thing to do is take the leap of faith and run with it. Happy trails!

MT Madness: Those Who Can’t, Volunteer

By Stacey Hagen

This was my second year volunteering at the MT ultramarathon. For me, this year would set a PR for volunteer hours for one event, with Meg and I pulling an all-nighter. Meg, in fact, arrived Friday afternoon and didn’t leave till Sunday afternoon! I was there from Saturday morning until Sunday afternoon. We helped set up, break down, and man the last aid station on the course (before the Start/Finish area). 

Our AS was pretty loaded!

HAVE ALL THE FOOD!

Throughout our volunteer experience, Meg and I discussed what we were learning from our time out there. The biggest thing we learned was that running 100 miles is really, really hard. No. Like reeeeeeallly freakin’ hard! When you see your friends- people you know to be very strong runners- out there struggling through the lows, it speaks clearly to the difficulty of the 100-mile endeavor. It is definitely not for the weak. And it is definitely not something to attempt unless you really want it, because you’re going to need that drive, that desire, to pull you through the tough low points. And there WILL be tough low points.

I don’t want to leave out the 50-milers because there were so many rock stars in that line-up. I’m particularly proud of our DRCers. DRC hit the trails, many attempting their first big ultras. Some found a profound sense of accomplishment, a milestone in their running career. Some found a renewed love for this sport that can have its ups and downs. Some went out there with the sole purpose of supporting their DRC peeps by running miles, lots of them. All of them, rockstars.  <3

Making shit happen.

Everyone out there amazed us. It was so incredibly awesome to see people come through looking very strong and determined, especially when the last time we saw them they were doubting themselves and looking rough. Volunteering at an ultramarathon is definitely a unique experience, especially if you remain for the entire event. Something that stood out to us after being there loop after loop for the runners is that you could see their relief when they would approach the aid station and see a familiar face. This was another tidbit of info we tucked away for future volunteer experiences: for runners, seeing someone that helped them out tremendously or someone with a lot of positive energy could be the one thing that gets them through a tough leg or helps them keep going. I heard from more than one racer that they could not wait to get back to our aid station, that it helped them a great deal. That meant a lot because we care a lot and we hoped our efforts were efficacious. 

We also learned that sometimes it’s tough to provide support for people you don’t know, especially in an ultramarathon. Trying to figure out what this person in front of you needs to help them continue, to help them persevere, is difficult to know. How can you know? You can’t! But, we care and we want to do all that we can for each and every person, so we go with our gut and we push them and we hope they’ll love us for it later. This brings me to the next thing we learned: you can make a lot of new friends volunteering, whether it’s racers, fellow volunteers, pacers, crew, etc. It’s pretty awesome! You get to interact with some pretty inspiring people.

Night AS! 

Of course, there were lots of little things we learned like labeling drinks, calling out people’s names when they arrived to our AS, having hot water prepared ahead of time to make warm drinks, blah, blah, blah. But, overall, we learned that giving back to our running community is something we LOVE to do! It can be so gratifying and meaningful. It is appreciated by your fellow runners (you know this),  but it can also be an eye-opener. It can help you better understand what you’re up for if you’re interested in attempting a similar type of race. So, I encourage you to volunteer. Give back! It is so good for you and the running community in so many ways!! You won’t regret it! And you just might leave the experience inspired.

Chasing Clouds

Ultra Race Report - My First Ultra, EC100

This is long, but so is a hundred miles, like a hill, get over it! 

By Jim Blair 

As I ran down the Santa Ana River Trail the sun was coming out, and I started to look at the clouds and more specifically their shadows. I looked forward to each shadow. I knew it would be a long day, and I needed as much shade as possible. I was 30 miles into my first hundred mile ultramarathon.  I had never seen the sun rise, set and then rise again, without sleep. So from that point on, I was chasing clouds.

Disbelief over the completion of my first 100 Mile Ultramarathon 

How I Got Here:  

My good running friend, Mark, has volunteered at the EC100 several times in the past. When they created its little brother the EC50,  he was interested. We had talked about running an ultramarathon together and it was only a matter of time until we made the plunge into the world of ultra distance racing. We had already run an Ultra Ragnar Relay in the Rocky Mountains, how much harder could it be… I initially said no, it was just too close to my first Ironman in November. I didn’t want to risk getting injured and complicate an already difficult training and racing schedule. I agreed to pace him if he wanted. Through some peer pressure from my friends, I was talked into it… “Come on Jim, it will be fun…” Then, Mark convinced me to run the FULL Long Beach Marathon the weekend before solely because it was the 30th Anniversary. We were both going "legacy" this year and the medal was bigger.  Yeah, I’m a sucker and have a “Fear Of Missing Out" (FOMO).

The EC50 & 100 are my hometown races. They start in Norco, California: a small rural town in the middle of the Southern California urban sprawl. We have horses, riding trails, country bars, and a very nice small town atmosphere; it’s a unique place to live, for sure. The races starts at the 100 Mile Club Headquarters, which is a school program that encourages kids to run 100 miles in a year. The EC100 follows the river trail from Norco to Huntington Beach 40 miles away and then along the coast before finishing at the Santa Monica Pier 101.6 miles away. 

Through a series of events, I became the only one to make it to the start line of the EC100. I’d originally signed up for the 50, but then later switched to the 100 mile ultra. Why in the world would I want to run a hundred miles? And as my first ultra??? I wanted to do an ultra for a few reasons. After my 7th marathon, I realized that I wanted something more. I’ve lost a lot of my speed, but have found a great endurance and feel like I can go forever. I wanted to see how far and how long I could go. After I started my ultra training plan, I realized that running a 50 mile ultra just didn't scare me... I would have been disappointed stopping at 50 miles watching all the other runners keep going… Plus… I really wanted a buckle for my first ultra, I have lots of medals… Buckles are typically only awarded for ultras 100 miles or longer. 

I followed my own custom-made training plan.  I merged together an ultramarathon and Ironman plan and adjusted for my crazy schedule. I also had a coach for a short time, but he was a very 'last minute' training planner and I wouldn’t know what my Monday workout was supposed to be until Sunday night. That didn't work for me, so I decided I had to go it alone.  

My travel was my biggest setback, but also a benefit to my overall training. I lost several cross-training opportunities to ride or swim. I did, however, trade 2 ½ hours of daily commuting time for actual running while away from home. It was common for me to get off work after a 12 hour day and go for a 12-20 mile night trail run on some awesome trails in the St. Louis area. I definitely made the most of what I could, while on travel. I found a couple of great running groups, but spent most of my time running alone and in the dark. 

Training Runs: 

The 100 Mile Club sponsored four training runs covering each part of the course. I participated in the first two runs and turned the second run into a 39 mile long training run. Due to extensive travel, that was my longest run prior to the ultra. I prioritized my family time when I was home, so I scrapped the remaining two training runs and ditched my 50 miler. I felt pretty confident with my nutrition, sweat rate testing, hydration, and overall time on my feet, so I tried not to worry too much about it. 

In September, I had two back-to-back Ragnar Relays. This is good and bad for preparing for an ultra. In addition to my normal weekly mileage and training, I typically choose the longest and hardest legs for these relays. You also run through the night on tired legs and without sleep. This was a huge benefit because I really felt at home running through the night when most runners are tired. At the Napa relay, I ran 27 miles at sub-nine minute race pace and then an additional ten miles pacing my wife through the heat, hills, and the night. The following weekend, Jeff and I went to Ragnar Adirondacks and once again I ran about 20 miles, this time at an eight-minute average pace. The next day I was back in St. Louis running trails and starting my taper. The results of my September effort were a superb fitness level, 184 miles of running (most ever) and the beginning of left heel pain. Satisfied with my fitness level, I decided to take two weeks off (minimal) running. I didn’t do any more serious running until the Long Beach Marathon six days before the ultra. Even then I was strictly pacing a friend at a very reasonable pace and specifically trying to go easy on my feet. My heel hurt from mile 2-20 and after that everything else began to hurt a little more and I got used to the pain. It was only then that I was satisfied that I could run a hundred miles like that… Yes, crazy…

Pre-Race Mental State and Confidence:

I never once thought I wouldn’t or couldn’t finish. I figured short of a real injury or being medically pulled from the course I would finish within the time limit. There was never any other option for me; I knew I was going to get it done. I’ve read enough to know what to expect, I’ve talked to other ultra runners, I’ve done long training runs, I like and embrace the pain and I was looking forward to pushing myself to this extreme! I spend a lot of time running alone.

Some of my favorite quotes from the book, Born to Run:

“Make friends with pain, and you will never be alone.” ~Ken Chlouber, Colorado miner and creator of the Leadville Trail 100 mile race”

“Suffering is humbling. It pays to know how to get your butt kicked.”

“We've got a motto here-you're tougher than you think you are, and you can do more than you think you can.”

The week before my race I was on travel once again. I took it really easy (no running) but did do some swimming and cross-training. I usually eat pretty healthy on travel, but I treated myself to a great night of sushi and drinks! I had a lot more down time that week than usual since I wasn’t running. I also quit drinking coffee that week. That makes caffeine on race day that much more effective, a nice trick I learned from a friend that really worked! I flew home the Friday afternoon before the race. I had so much logistics, packing, and planning to do for my crew that I didn’t even have time to worry about actually running a hundred miles…. around 10pm I finally got to relax. 

Race Morning: 

I got up around 5, it’s nice living less than ten minutes from the start! I ate a banana & peach, drank a full bottle of Skratch, got weighed, and then waited for the start with my family and friends.  I looked for other familiar faces in the crowd.  I found Pam, she was a 50 mile runner I met during the first training run.  This was her first ultra too.  It wasn’t until I heard “3… 2… " that I finally realized I was doing this, that I even felt my first bit of nerves. "1…. Go!!!”  

My Game Plan: 

I mentally broke down my race into eight sections all about a half-marathon length. I made it clear I didn’t want to know how many miles to the finish, I wanted each pacer to tell me their mileage, not mine.  I was very fortunate to talk six of my Ragnar teammates into be my pacers for this race. It would be kind of like a relay except that I’d be running the whole thing and they’d be trading off.  I was lucky to have one of them alongside me for the entire hundred miles! It really made me feel good to know my friends gave up their weekend to run with me. I think they really wanted to see Crazy Jim do this to. The first marathon went well with Dave and Michelle pacing me around an 11-12ish pace.  I came into the mile 28 aid station in about 5:40 and felt great!! What could go wrong? I got weighed and only lost 3 pounds! That was great news because it meant my nutrition and hydration strategy was working. I changed shorts, shoes, socks, then refueled and was gone in 5 minutes. I had planned for 15 and was ahead of schedule! 

My Simple Nutrition Plan: 

One Bottle of Skratch & one Lara Bar per hour and every 12.5 miles a piece of fruit and a coconut water. This was my formula for success during my 39 mile training run and common ultra direction is to eat as much and as early as possible during an ultra because you wouldn’t feel like eating later into the race. Well, this worked and it didn’t… About mile 35ish the sun came out, it got hot, my heart rate went up, I stopped digesting food as well, I got full, and then I got miserable very, very quickly, and much much earlier than expected. My poor wife, Tiffany, got to pace me those ten miles and watch me deteriorate from a happy runner to absolutely miserable during my first ultra.

Trouble:

By mile 40 when Mark took over pacing me, I was in trouble. The clouds were NOT providing.  I was getting overheated and just couldn’t eat any more. I could barely drink coconut water and had to abandon Skratch completely...too much sodium taste and it was making me sick to my stomach. I would have liked to puke but couldn’t. I was also worried that if I did I wouldn’t be able to re-hydrate. Coconut water, Salt Caps, COLD-plain water, and oranges were all I could take in from that point on. I begged Mark to “just talk to me” to get my mind off my issues and keep me going. At mile 46, halfway down Huntington Beach, my leg cramps started. I couldn’t run anymore, my legs would lock up and make me stumble if I did anything other than walk. My core hurt and was painful to the touch, which was a very unique feeling. I’m really thankful that I had spent a few months focusing on core exercises, otherwise I don’t think I could have endured that pain and may have quit. Mark helped stretch my legs and did a great job at keeping me moving. We refilled my bottles with ice cold water and I showered the upper half of my body at the showers on the beach boardwalk. Other than the quick shower and stretching I never stopped moving. When Pam and her daughter caught up to me I briefly got a second wind.  Familiar faces!  I attempted to run again. They were cruising at a sub-12 pace and I kept up with them for a few miles before I needed to slow down and run a more reasonable 13ish pace. After all, they were running the 50 and I wasn’t even half way done yet… 

Mile 50 Aid Station:  

I already knew I looked bad. I still knew I’d finish though. My biggest worry was how bad I looked might get me pulled from the race by the race director or my wife… As much as I tried, I wanted to look strong and I am sure I failed miserably.

Jeff’s account of the 50 mile aid station and our conversation sums it up pretty well: 

“You came hobbling in on wobbly legs: cramped, nauseous, shaking and feeling like chewed bubblegum.”

“You initially sat down for about 20 seconds then said 'get me up'.” --My legs had immediately locked up the moment I sat down so resting wouldn’t work.

"C'mon lets get you changed. Here drink this." --I don't want anything to drink.

“Do you want some of your Extreme Endurance pills?” --Sure, I'll have some endurance pills...

“Here” ---Ok gimme a coconut water-- "Atta boy"

I got weighed and only lost nine pounds. Not bad, that was encouraging to me despite my condition and not eating much for the last ten miles.  I changed clothes and shoes and then just hobbled around. Jeff gave me some anti-leg cramp pills and then rubbed calf cramp cream on my calves. It was pretty heated stuff. Then I found the massage table!

“5 minutes later I see you on the table face down getting your calves rubbed out grimacing in pain, gripping the legs of the table as the physical therapist made his run on your calves.”---It was incredibly painful but necessary.

“I took an opportunity to speak up because you were in bad shape; if you didn't make it to mile 75 or 80 I would've regretted not getting rougher on you soon. So, Is this what you wanted? Is this the pain you were hoping to feel? The test? You wanted this! Wanted to see what you were capable of…. Wanted to ache…. Wanted to feel exhaustion and pain….” ---I couldn’t look at him, I could barely keep my eyes open, I was in so much pain and he was right.

“Lift your head, don't try to ignore this! Remember every minute of it! Savor this spiking pain! You deserve this! You've earned this pain…. When you get up you can go earn the rest of it!” ---Thanks, Jeff.

One of my ultra friends had posted a brilliant quote a few days before the race:

“The perfect crew embodies two characteristics; care and indifference.

They must care enough about you to want you to achieve your goal.

And they must be indifferent to how much you suffer to do it.” - Laz

When I got up from the table, I was very cold from the sweat and massage cream and began shivering uncontrollably. Never before had I felt so cold. I couldn’t stop shaking and asked for a long sleeve shirt and for my crew to “Get me out of here!” I was freezing and needed to start moving. Kristie was up! My crew had seen a lot of “advice” I’d posted and they told her that she had to be Mrs. Jackson!

I give Kristie full credit for taking me from near death through the next 15+ miles. The course was very complicated AND poorly marked so we got lost twice! Luckily Mark and Rick happened to see us off course and were able to guide us back in real time. She pointed out every curb, bump, crack, light, and basically took care of everything I needed. She did a great job at keeping me focused on drinking and moving. She mastered tough love and was exactly what I needed for the next several hours.  I was force fed a single Uncrustable sandwich at mile 50 and barely could finish a second one over the next few hours. But, I was able to continue drinking coconut water and eating watermelon. I had to reassure my team that no matter how bad I looked or felt that I only needed 200 cal per hour and any more would make me sick. It was the truth too and thankfully they listened. 

Suddenly there was a loud scream!  A Pit-Bull just appeared 15 feet in front of us.  I’ve been bitten by a dog before while running and have almost always run with a knife since then. Ironically I gave my knife to Jeff to hold on to. Needless to say, we didn’t have it… I was trying to envision how to fight off this damn dog after running 70 miles and just wasn’t looking forward to it. Luckily Kristie screamed loud enough that it scared him as much as he scared us and he kept his distance. By the end of our run, I was feeling better! I was able to eat and drink, I was still able to move and run, AND I had a positive attitude. It was now late into the night and I was in my element! It was just like a long work day and long night run again. I have trained and prepared for this.

The Hill: 

So I’d heard from Mark and other runners that there was just one hill on this course and that it was late in the race. I was prepared for this mentally and since I liked to run hills I never worried too much about it. What I didn’t know is that it was over 2 miles long, up to 17% grade and the beginning of about 20 miles worth of rolling hills following the coast to Santa Monica. This was my own fault for not making the training runs or looking at the course profile.. A lot of walking, but I maintained a positive attitude and forward progress. Some of my pacers and crew cried and were in disbelief while driving the hills thinking about me running them that late in the race!

Electrocution (I'm familiar with it): 

Not too many people have been electrocuted as much as I have. Yeah between a career as a Navy electronics technician and an engineer it's happened, more often than I should admit. Late in the race simply waiving my arms to shake them out and relax my shoulders caused a sensation of electrocution from my fingertips through my shoulders. This is all I can compare it to… Imagine the feeling of several thousand watts of RF energy or hundreds of volts of electricity running through the body. It was probably caused by extreme fatigue and electrolyte imbalance, but I really have no idea. It was kind of cool that I pushed myself that far, but it really hurt too! Less than 25 miles to go…

Mile 75 Aid Station:  

My primary goal of sub 24 hours was long gone so I didn’t worry about time anymore. I spent almost 40 minutes there! At the weigh in I had actually gained 2 pounds back!!!! I was only 7 pounds down for the past 75 miles this was the last check that would have prevented me from finishing and I was thrilled to make weight. I was feeling sore and beat up but overall much better than I thought I would be considering this late stage of the race. I ate a small ham sandwich, a cup of chicken noodle soup and then set out for my last marathon.

At mile 78.31 I saw a rock that looked just like a cat’s head.  

Yes, it looked like a cat to me at mile 78.31. All I could think about was that my daughter Kellie, who loves animals and rocks would love to have this rock. So I picked it up and started to run with it.  Kristie hadn't seen the rock and must have thought I was nuts.  I decided pretty quickly I couldn’t run the rest of the race with a rock and I didn’t think she’d carry it for me.  So I set it in the middle of the bike lane. Don’t worry, it was only about 4 a.m. and there weren’t cyclists out yet. A few miles later, we saw Rick along the road I explained where my “cat” rock was and asked if he could please get it for me. Aren’t friends great! I was also getting disappointed because I wanted the whole 9 yards of the “ultra experience” and didn’t know where my hallucinations were…?? I wasn’t getting them yet. As the sun rose, we came down from the hills and made it to the beach. There was not a cloud in sight.  But, Santa Monica was!

Jeff took over at mile 83 and I had less than 18 miles to go. My secret goal in making him my last pacer was due to our long history together. I would turn myself inside out to make it to mile 83 and not disappoint or make him miss the opportunity of pacing me. We had a beautiful run / walk along the beach. My attitude remained good, my pace was not. The last 18 miles turned out to be 20 miles or more, I lost count.  I could only manage a 16-18 minute running pace and when I walked it was considerably slower. But, I kept moving forward! Mile by mile we got closer.

At 12:30 in the afternoon on Sunday, October 19th, 29 hours and 30 minutes after I started, I crossed the finish line at the Santa Monica Pier. 

Happy, relieved, sore, tired, awake, hungry, not hungry, it's all a bit hazy, but I finished!

It said yesterday.... ;-). WTH, only a 3.1 Training Effect!?!?!

I had just run 105.31 miles and was the last official finisher of the EC100 under 30 hours. I had earned my first buckle in my very first ultra marathon! When I look back at this, 59 runners entered the race, 39 made it to the start line, and only 24 finished! I am in awe and amazed at my own accomplishment. I was also surprised at the attrition rate of runners that were far ahead of me yet Did Not Finish (DNF). 

I received lots of profound and encouraging advice along the way, but one thought that kept coming back to me during this race was compliments of Laura Range, a seasoned ultra runner in my St. Louis running community.  "It doesn't always get worse.  And, it's always worth it."

Lessons learned and cool statistics… I now know not to exceed 300 calories per hour for more than 10 hours… I burned 11,600 calories and ate less than half of that. My body is a machine! I also know it’s OK to ask for cold water and oranges if I’m dying and it is hot out… Next time I’ll try harder to really know the entire course and carry a printed map or map-my-run app. I am really glad I had multiple goals and could give up on one to save the others. After all, I finished!!! I finished with feet that were not swollen, no black toe nails, only one small blister, very minimal chafing, no blood or serious injuries and everything I worked hard to prepare and practice for worked!

I really want to thank my wife for letting me sign up for this crazy race. Unfortunately, it won’t be my last.  I am hooked! I had already signed up for another one before I ran this one, and have a few more on my calendar I am considering.  Running is my outlet for stress relief; it’s also where I can run with friends, be outside and see and experience new things. I can’t wait to get out there again! I want to thank my wonderful pacers, Dave, Michelle, Tiffany, Mark, Kristie, and Jeff. We were all ultra rookies and they took good care of me and delivered me to the finish line in one piece. Rick helped with driving and support along my run, as well as search and acquisition of my “cat” rock! Canesha also deserves special mention! She took my two kids for the duration, along with her twins, and they followed the race all night long. I am most proud that my children got to see their dad accomplish this crazy goal and adventure.

My Pacers:  Jeff, Michelle,Tiffany, Me, Mark, & Kristie

So, in the end, if you set your mind on your goals, find support in your friends and family and put in the necessary training where you can fit it, then you will more than chase the clouds.

California Jim has run coast to coast in search of epic races, bling, and running friends.  He hopes to inspire his two daughters Samantha and Kellie to love running as much as he does.

Photo Album

Canesha, Tiffany, Dave, Mark, Me, Michelle, Kayla, Hannah

Start Line

Dave and I - Mile 10 

Michelle and I - Mile 20 

Tiffany and I - Mile 30 
just before it got hot...

Mark and I - Mile 40  

Pam and I - Mile 50.  
She's finished!  I'm only half way...

Kristie and I - Mile 75

Kristie and I - Mile 80 
The Santa Monica Pier far off in the distance at sunrise

Jeff and I at Redondo Beach around mile 90.

Ed the Jester is one of the reasons this race is special.  
I've seen and met him at several marathons before.  
This was the first ultra that I got to run WITH him.

Yeah, I'm wearing my buckle!!

I've waited since February to put this sticker on my car!  
It's a daily reminder and exercise in patience.