San Diego 100(really really late race report)

San Siego 100(really late entry)

So this is only the second post I have done, and I'm really, really late in getting it out. But here is my experience with the toughest race I'v run so far.

San Diego 100 was to be my second 100 mile race, and I was eager to see how well I could do. I had run the Western States 100 last year and had had a great experience, no big lows, no real issues and finished very near my goal. I had put in some solid training after recovering from a pretty bad groin pull at the end of November. This was the first time I had followed a true training plan, and I felt like I was stronger than ever. I ran the Canyons 100K in May, as a training race, and managed a PR for the distance and took 1:20 off of my time from last year. So I felt ready to take on this new challenge. The SD course, on paper, looks easier than the WS course, so I was very hopeful to break the 20 hour mark. I could not have been more wrong.

Amber and I drove down to Huntington Wednesday before the race and stayed at our friend Keevins house. Keevin and Amber were to be my crew and pacers. On Thursday we drove up to Lake Cuyamaca to set up camp with our friend and fellow racer Berry. We set up camp and headed over to race check in and to listen to the pre race briefing. It was hot, in the briefing Scotty Mills told us the predicted heat index for race day was to be 108. Holy cow, I thought. I had spent some time in a sauna to help heat acclimate, but the mild spring in our neck of the woods had not allowed me to get in much in the way of true heat training. After the meeting we had dinner, got our things ready for the next day and were off to bed.

A beautiful way to start the day.

Race morning was cool and pleasant, perfect running temps(at 5:00AM). While eating, I nervously went about making sure everything was ready to go. I always seem to have trouble eating on race morning, I'm just too excited. Before I knew it we were in the starting coral, listening to last minute instructions and then we were off. Nerves quickly faded away as I set into what felt like an easyish pace. We made our way around the lake and meadow and soon began the first hill. I felt I was running easy, but after passing a couple of other runners walking that warned me not to forget to take walk breaks, decided I should head the warning and back off a little. I walk ran the first hill and enjoyed the scenery. On the first descent I noted how rocky and over grown the trail was, I'd need to take care not to trip or role and ankle. Soon we were going threw the first aid Paso Picacho, where some lovely ladies were handing out iced buffs. I took one, put it around my neck and was instantly glad for its coolness. It was already getting quite warm, and it was only 7:00.

Quickly out of the aid and up the next climb I settled into a good rhythm, enjoyed to scenery and was soon running with a Guy named Michael, who told me he had just run a 100 miler in the desert, I was amazed at how well he was running so close to running another 100. We chatted as the miles passed, the trail continued to be rocky and challenging in places, perhaps I had underestimated this corse. We continued to chat as we descended back to the lake and the Chambers aid station. I filled both waters, grabbed a handful of food and put some ice in my bandanna and was on my way. Michael had pulled away during my aid stop and I found my self alone on a long rolling gradual climb. The course becomes very exposed at this point and I was really starting to feel the heat start come on. I backed off on my pace, realizing it was only going to get warmer, and I had a long day ahead.

The next section of trail passed easily enough, I felt like I was moving well, and the scenery was nice. This section was not too technical  and soon I was into Sunrise 1 aid and the first time I would see my aid.

OH sweet ICE

Quickly Amber, Brian, (a friend that came out to enjoy the weekend) and Keevin had my pack traded for one with fresh fluids, and a back full of ICE(man that felt good) and they had me back on the trail in short order. The next section climbs up to a ridge on the PCT with great views of the desert to the east, and more sun. My memories of this section are vague, but I do remember thinking perhaps I had been a bit overzealous in my initial pace, as I was starting to suffer a bit in the heat.

Before long the woman that would end up second overall passed me and commented that it was way too early for us to be worrying about overheating. I had been running with one bottle normal mix of tailwind and the other with concentrated Perpetum, this turned out to be a bad decision as the day heated up. The Tailwind was quickly gone and as I forced down the strong thick Perpetum my stomach started to show the first signs of rebellion. I ran out of water on the last descent to Pioneer Mail aid and was so thankful when I got there and was able to down some ice cold water and get a new ice pack and ice bandanna from my amazing crew. I asked for no Perpetum and was soon off, running down, down and down. The trail soon became very rocky and technical and I was enjoying the trail. The trail wound its way toward Nobal Canyon and soon rocky downhill gave away to rolling Jeep road then to paved downhill. The paved section was downright hot and I ran out of water again about a mile from the aid station. My shins and calves were showing the first signs of cramping and every gel I took in threatened to come back up. At this point the calorie intake slowed to basically what ever was in my drink. Finally I was at Pine Creek aid, and took some salt tabs and pickle juice. I drank as much fluid as I could handle, made sure I had lots of ice in my pack and bandanna and headed out for the long climb out of the canyon. The air was still and oppressive and the flies relentless. the climb went on and on. I felt like I was going to puke every time I pushed the pace so I walked, trying to at least swing my arms and hike as fast as I could. As the climb got higher the trees thinned and the heat pressed. Still climbing I ran out of water, this was not good. I pushed on, seriously contemplating dropping out. I was not having any fun. I could not fathom how not one person had passed me in the eternity that had passed sense the last aid station. 45 minutes to an hour later I finally reached the Penny Pines aid, staggering and feeling like it was time to throw in the towel.
Then I was seated, cold drink in hand, bottles filled and kids were dousing my head and shoulder in ice cold water. 3 or 4 people came in as I sat there recovering, one being my friend Jenny, who commented that that section was brutal. The aid station crew did a great job of ushering me out of the station when they felt I had cooled down sufficiently. As soon as I was out of the aid station my shins and claves began to cramp, running ceased and shuffling ensued. Jenny passed me, offering me words of encouragement, and reminded me that the night was a new race, and she was soon out of sight. I settled into a rhythm of walking the slightest climb and shuffling the flats and downs. I drank water as best as I could, my stomach was queasy and unhappy, but I was moving. I determined to make it to the cooler evening. Finally, with about two miles to the next aid my legs finally stopped cramping at every upward pitch and my shuffling gait began to resemble a half ass jog. Things were looking up, or so I thought.

I don't want to get out of this chair

On arrival to the next aid, my crew ushered me to a chair, cooled me with water, and put coconut water into my hand. Amber told me every one was looking haggard as well. (I thought I was doing better. I guess I didn't look too good). But as a good crew chief Amber kicked me out of the chair as soon as the last of the coconut water was down. I continued to have intermittent leg cramps, which I was able to keep mostly at bay by walking for a minute. This section was short but another low was setting in and I began to struggle with motivation. I knew that Amber and Keevin had sacrificed their time and energy to help me so I used that to get me through to the next aid, Red Tailed Roost, where to my surprise Amber was waiting with running gear on and ready to pace, early, I hadn't planned on picking up a pacer until mile 64. Amber said I looked like I needed some motivation so she jumped in. I grabbed a coconut water and we headed out of the aid, at a walk. Soon Amber was pushing me to pick up the pace and jog. I finished the water and started to move better, by the time we reached Dales Kitchen 1 I was feeling better and by the single track descent started to feel good, the trail had good flow and I picked up the pace. I began to have fun, for the first time in many hours. I thanked Amber for getting me out of my funk, and being such an amazing wife, and continued to pick up the pace and was soon flying. About 3 miles into the 7ish mile descent I kicked a large rock, OK boulder, with my right foot. My body lurched forward, I ran off the side of the trail, barely managing to keep my feet under me. But my big toe and inner side of my foot was screaming at me. I tried to run it off, but the pain wouldn't allow it. So I walked for a bit. Then I tried running again and found that if I kept my weight to the outside of my foot I was able to run fairly descent pace. Nearing the bottom of the descent my stomach started to grumble and I began gaging. With much effort and occasional walk breaks I was able to keep its contents in check.
Near sunset Amber and I pulled into Cibbets Flat aid, where Keevin was waiting to pace me for the next 20 miles. I took in an assortment of fluids and calories, including chicken soup, water, coke, a quesadilla and maybe some ginger ale. Keevin and Amber pushed me to hit the trail and return up the long climb back up.

we got this.

About 200 yards out of the aid station my stomach ordered everything out. I puked and puked on the side of the trail for what seemed an eternity.

Everything OUT!!!

When I was finally able to stop retching Keevin and I started to move. This time my hamstrings chimed in and seized up. I tried walking backward, no dice. So I just suffered and tried to replace some of the fluids and calories I'd just left on the trailside. Before long my body started to cooperate and we began to power hike and run a little. we were soon joined by a woman running her first 100 and her pacer. They encouraged us to stay with them and toed us up the hill. By the top at Dales Kitchen 2 I was feeling much better, and much to Keevins delight, I began eating. I was actually hungry. We moved quickly through the aid and were back on the trail, chatting and catching up on life. I was feeling pretty good, only my right foot still hurt and now my ankle felt tight, I stopped and loosened my shoe several times, but it just seemed to keep getting tight again. We reached Tobys Cabin aid, which was like a party in the woods. I didn't want to leave, the fire, chairs and beer looked mighty good, but the race finish called.
The next section seemed to go forever. We could see the next aid, then the trail would turn and head the wrong direction. It was a big mental challenge. We made it through Penny Pines 2 and were on to Pioneer Mail 2. ON the descents on this section I began to have trouble running. My ankle and foot were starting to hurt, but I pushed on,  determined to finish. As we approached Pioneer Mail my ankle was getting increasingly tight and painful.
I reached the aid station, sat in a chair and commented on the issue of my ankle. I figured I would be able to push to the end.  Amber joined me and we headed out. The first part out of the aid is a slight uphill and I was able to jog ok, then the down came and I was only able to manage a shuffle. I figured I would loosen up as we moved on. Before long I found I was unable to run. I would try and stop after maybe 10 strides. This was not good. OK I can walk the last 15 miles right? NO. Every step was painful, I was having trouble getting over rocks. At one point I hobbled over to the bushes, grabbed a large dead manzanita branch and broke it off, making it into a walking stick.  The walking stick soon became more of a cain/crutch. Through all of this Amber encouraged me, never telling me it was time to throw in the towel. With perhaps 3 miles to go the the next aid I sat down on a rock and holding back tears asked Amber to call Keevin and tell him to meet us at the nearest escape point. She checked her Gaia App on her phone, called Keevin and had my escape planned. Now was just to make the 2ish mile hike out. Time dragged on, but finally, after nearly 2 hours, as we started to crest a road and saw the lights of the car. I flopped into the front seat and we drove to the Sunrise 2 aid where I handed in my bib, thus ending my race, 9 miles from the finish.

Me, Berry, Brian, Keevin and My extraordinary wife.

The next morning my ankle and foot had mostly morphed into a big puffy painful thing. The next couple weeks would find me going from using a cain to walk to wearing a walking boot(bootsy returns). I didn't run at all until 5 days before Western States(where I was happily able to pace my friend Ryan Peel to a outstanding finish of 2230ish hours).
So how does it feel to drop so close to the finish? Crummy. I gave this race my all, from training, to changing my diet to leaving everything I had on the trail. I know Ill be back to conquer this race, maybe next summer.
Lessons learned.
1) Heat train more
2) Don't bomb the down hill 60 miles into a race
3) It's going to hurt.
4) Save it for the night time.