South Bay Cowboys

Following Ray Miller 50M, I knew that I was practically ready to go straight for the 100K distance.  I had originally planned on targeting Miwok 100K in May, but fresh off the high of completing Ray Miller 50M, I decided to roll straight into training for an earlier 100K, Sean O’Brien on February 4th.   I took two weeks off for low mileage, light active recovery, and then I immediately began increasing mileage.

Preparation

With nine weeks until race day, I simply decided to repeat the final nine weeks of my Ray Miller 50M training, with a focus of on course miles.  The plan would keep me honest with mileage and give me the confidence of actually knowing every inch of the course.  This plan peaked with a 33 mile training run three weeks out from the race, all on course, using my car at Corral Canyon as an aid station.  West on the Backbone Trail, then South on Zuma Canyon Fire Road to Buzzard’s Roost Ranch, back to the car, then North and East down Bulldog, and then back to the car.  A little over half the course.  This training run gave me the confidence I needed for my first 100K distance .

Race Morning

As for prior races, I set four alarms in five minute increments beginning at 2:00 AM, to make sure I woke up on time.  And, of course, I woke up five minutes before the first alarm.  Having fully prepared the night before, I had little to do in the morning other than eat a bowl of cereal, down some coffee, and put my bags in the car.  I was out the door at 3:15 AM.  Arriving at 4:00 AM, I found a parking spot and opened my door to test the air.  It wasn’t that cold, maybe 50 F.  I made my way over to the check in, got my schwag bag, bib (#908), went back to my car, and prepped myself for the race.  I had brought a beanie, gloves, and warm outer layer, but decided all I needed were my arm sleeves to get me through the morning until the sun came up.  I hung out in my car to stay warm until making my way over to the start at 4:40AM.  The race director, Keira Henninger, had announced that there were changes to the course.  Apparently, the State Park had tried to get her to cancel the race, but she had negotiated a change of course.  Rainy weather conditions had created a lot of mud on the course, and in one section there were some landslide issues.  So now, instead of descending Zuma via the fireroad to Bonsall aid station, and ascending back up via Zuma Canyon trails, we were to take the same fireroad back up.  This cut over 1,000 feet of elevation and four miles from the original route.  However, she pushed back the Bulldog aid station later in the course to make up two of the miles.  So the course was now easier.  A little mental boost… I wasn’t about to complain.

Race

At 5:00AM sharp, Keria started the race and we were off.  About two miles in, we came upon the water crossing we had been warned about in advance.  I was worried about this.  I had no experience at all running in wet shoes and was worried about blisters.  I put clean socks and a pair of shoes in every drop bag for the race because of this fear.  The runners were lined up, crossing one by one, holding onto the rope.  The water came up above my knee, but fortunately was not that cold.  The crossing itself ended up being fun.  Most were making jokes about it, and I saw one person stepping his legs into trash bags to cross.  I crossed, got wet, and ran on.  This section soon leads to the Backbone Trail and the ascent around Malibu Creek toward Corral Canyon.  Still dark, my sopping shoes soon became a soft squish with each footfall, as I power hiked up the ascent.  A few miles further in, I happened to turn and see the trail of headlamps behind  in the dark.  What a fun site.  A runner behind me commented about the four seconds I lost on my time for turning to snap a picture.  Seconds well lost!

I built up some distance on that runner and soon found myself running alone around the turns of the ridgeline.  Up ahead, coming up on Corral Canyon, I saw a few flashing lights that stopped.  “What is that?”  I kept running, and didn’t see anything.  Then again.  “What?”  I kept running, and figured I made it up.  Finally coming up on the big rock formations preceding Corral Canyon, I saw a crouched figure holding a camera.  “Oh, it’s his flash!”  I ran by and he snapped a few pictures.  I ran over the top of the rocks and quickly covered the short distance down to Corral Canyon aid station.  I ran through, only slowing to refill my handheld with an electrolyte drink.  The sun had come up enough that I turned my headlamp off.  Then I was back onto the Backbone Trail and to Latigo Road.  

During my long training run, this section had water crossings that were difficult to cross without getting wet.  But today, these were dried enough to be quite easy crossings.  I pressed on into a group of runners, and kept a low-gear run up to the trail to the road.  Soon I found myself at the next aid station at Latigo.  Quick refill of the handheld, and I was off, continuing on the trail toward Kanan Road.

This section was the beginning of the mud.  Halfway to Kanan, there was a slippery muddy section that really cut down the pace.  I have no idea how elite runners can traverse mud quickly.  I stepped my way through, and continued on, soon hearing cheers from the next aid station at Kanan.  Coming down the descent into the station, I saw Billy Yang and David Daley cheering on the runners.  They spot me and cheer me on into the station, snapping some pictures.  Seeing the familiar faces immediately lifted my slightly tired spirits.  They also cheered on Jimmy Dean Freeman, who was filling up at the station.  I greeted him, refilled my handheld, ate some boiled potatoes, thanked them for their encouraging words, and was off.

The next sections felt like meandering ups and downs, so I’m holding a decent average pace.  There were a few climbs, but nothing serious.  A few miles more and I made it to the Zuma Fireroad aid station.  I refilled, ate some potatoes, and began the climb up to Buzzard’s Roost.  This section is just straight power hiking, pushing for the top, afterwhich it’s downhill for miles to Bonsall.  I slowly caught up to a group of three runners, and listened in on their conversation.  Finally reaching the top, they took off, and I began to pace my downhill, trying not to blow my legs out early in the race.  A couple miles down, I heard a cheer in front of me.  It’s Billy again, running up in a small group, spectating!  He snapped some pictures, cheered, and I charged on downhill.  

Nearing the bottom of Zuma, I hit the mud.  I thought the last section was bad, but this was worse.  Unavoidable, slippery, heavy, suctioning mud for at least two miles until hitting the aid station.  What should have been a fast section, was simply a slow, laughable slog.  Pushing on, I make it into Bonsall.  I collected my soft flasks from the drop bag, refilled my handheld, ate some more potatoes, and I was off again into the mud.  I’m wasn’t thinking about any other part of the race, I was just trying to push through the mud, so I could begin the six miles of uphill hiking back up to Buzzard’s Roost.  I finally make it through, and begin the slow trek up.  

At this point, I wasn’t thinking about time or miles, I was just thinking about progress.  One foot in front of the other, over and over.  After that march, I found myself back up top by Buzzard’s Roost.  My legs were feeling beat up, and at a slowed pace I begin the downhill back to Zuma aid station.  

Getting to the station, I was greeted by a dancing T-Rex.  It must be fun to volunteer at these aid stations. I have to do that soon.  I refilled, ate potatoes, and was off again.  I hit Kanan Road aid station (now at mile 32), quickly moved through, and find myself back in the mud section.  By this time, the muddy trail had been trampled by one hundred plus runners so it was in even worse shape.  Each step was a battle, as I fought the mud from sucking off my shoes.  I persisted and made it through.  Soon I made it back to Corral Canyon.  This was significant for me, mentally, because now I directly compared it to my training run.  I just have to make it down Bulldog, march back up, then cover the mostly downhill distance back to the start.  Though I’m breaking it into pieces in my head, making it feel like I’m close to the end, I still have 25 miles to go, including the brutal Bulldog climb.

Leaving Corral Canyon aid, I began my trek down Bulldog.  My downhill speed had become quite slow.  I was so stiff, I felt like I was running downhill in a suit of armor.  I wasn’t injured though, so I continued at my slowed pace, making progress.  Past the M.A.S.H. site, there were a lot of hikers out, all cheering and encouraging the Sean O’Brien runners.  I trod along, and eventually make it to the Bulldog aid station.  Despite feeling beat and stiff, I was doing pretty good.  No cramps, no muscles or joints shutting down, no injuries, no blisters, and no need for my drop bag.  My feet felt fine.  I was still smiling, still having a good time.  I just needed to click off those final miles and make it to the end.  

I refilled my handheld, turned around and began the long uphill hike back to Corral Canyon.  At 45 miles into a 100K race, I simply zoned out for the Bulldog ascent, putting one foot in front of the other, over and over, until finally, I made it back up to Corral Canyon.  Now the only number that mattered was 7.5, the miles I had between me and the finish line.  The number felt so trivial compared to the 51 miles I had already gone.  I refilled and pushed on, with a sudden urge to dunk my legs back in that first water crossing.  At this point I also realized I’d make it back right before the sunset. Yes!  

Making it back to the water crossing, I take my time crossing.  My feet and legs are rejuvenated.  On the other side, I’m now thinking “two miles and one climb”.  I hit the climb, hiked it, then began to pick up my pace for the finish.  Enough with these 10, 12, 13 minute miles.  I picked up my pace back to the 8s to finish the final half mile strong.  I could hear a cowbell rattling ahead of me, as someone spotted a runner coming in toward the finish (me).  I sighted the finish line, made the turns, and finished in my typical sprint.  The standard ultra emotions immediately hit me.  I’d set a goal and finished it.  A goal that two years ago would have been insane.  I’ve also finished a Western States qualifying race, so I can enter the lottery.  Me, of all people.  It’s a little absurd, a little surreal, but very motivating.

Post Race

At the finish, the man running the timing called me over and asked what number I was.  I told him, and he acted confused and said I wasn’t in the race.  After some searching, he said I was in the 50K race.  I told him that I signed up for the 100k, my bib is the yellow 100k bib, I just ran 100k, and I have my Strava data and witnesses.  Somehow the system triggered my bib number at 1PM at the finish line, while I was out on the course.  I just finished running 100k and I didn’t want to have to defend that fact.  I have no idea what the issues were, but thankfully the timing company and race director were able to resolve the problem.

I have to admit, after the euphoria of finishing a long endurance run like 100k, the worst part is having to drive myself home.  I’m tired.  I can barely walk.  I’m dehydrated and hungry.  But I have to get in my car and drive to get home.  At this point my muscles are shutting down, going on strike.  I manage to drag my body to the car and begin the drive.  I do make a quick stop at McDonald’s for a milkshake, but then I’m off.  

In the last 25 miles of the race, I was so thankful I had not yet signed up for another ultra.  I couldn’t imagine running more than that distance.  But the race was a mental boost, knowing that more is possible.  So what’s next.