Miwok 100km – When Nature Strikes Back

Quick Race Stats for Miwok 100k 2009:

• Distance: 100km, 62.4 Miles
• Time: 12:01:34
• Average Pace: 11:34 min/mile
• Elevation Gain/Loss: ~ 10,000 / 10,000 ft
• Average Heart Rate: ~145 bmp

Quick Race Links:

• All my race photos in my Miwok set
• Here’s Ron Little’s photos
• Here’s a Miwok 2009 Race video from Journeyfilm

I spent most of the week before Miwok huddled over the weather reports, initially thinking we’d be hit with another unusual heat wave. That wasn’t the case as race day drew near. In fact, rain was forecast amongst unsettled weather that cumulatively no single weatherman nor weather website could decide what was going to happen – that resulted in a bunch of runner’s that didn’t know what to expect either.

As for me, I was stressed and more nervous that before any other race (with the exception of my pre-teen track days). I was obsessive over what to do, overplanning everything; even emailing 2 good ultra running friends asking, “How do I run 11-13 hours in the rain?” I eventually settled down after finalizing my race plan and packing. For pacing/splits I pulled information from run100s.com’s splits for 3 finish times: 11, 12, and 13 hour finishes (i.e. best, good, and acceptable scenarios).

Race morning was an intertwined weave of plans that eventually lead to myself and Mike Weston at the starting line with plenty of time to spare and my wife and sister at the Bolinas Ridge aid station volunteering for the day along with the Coastside Running Club. The day was overcast but oddly warm (say mid 50’s) with no wind – believe me this is strange weather for a Marin beach at 5:00AM in the morning!

So there I was amongst 322 other runners in my brand new Brooks GTSs (yup, I freaked out and bought brand new trail shoes 2 days before the race), my goofy widebrimmed hat, and a red windbreaker. With a “line” drawn in the sand by the waving of Tia’s (the Race Directors) flashlight we lined up in the beach sand and were off on the word “Go”!

After passing the infamous bottleneck we all got moving and the jackets, gloves, hats, etc. quickly came off.  It was warm, very warm.  My pace was generally on target – I kept my heart rate under 160 as a hard barrier to NOT go out too fast allowing me to run / walk the hills.  My calorie intake was out of control.  I had calculated that 2 tubes of Cliff Bloks and 6 servings of GU would be more than sufficient to Pantoll.  This time a had a ravenous hunger and ate all my Cliff Bloks and at least 1/2 my GU by the Muir Beach aid station (5.7 mile to go before Pantoll).  Yup, I gave into the hunger grabbed GU from the aid station and was off – while overhearing the leaders had just reached Pantoll.

About 1/2 way to Pantoll the weather picked up.  It was slight at first then the wind began gusting and the rain kicked it up a few notches.  As I passed another runner I remember commenting, “It’s getting a bit cold” as I put my windbreaker back on.

I reached Pantoll uneventfully and scurried to my dropbag guided by a wonderful volunteer escort.  I swapped out my handheld for my Nathan pack that was pre-loaded with food and water then grabbed an extra tube of Clif Bloks.  The rain persisted and the trails ahead were to be the worst yet: exposed to the ocean, no tree cover, narrow, and lots of mud.  My energy here felt great with an additional drive to reach the Coastside Running Club sponsored Bolinas Ridge aid station.  I knew most everyone there and was teary-eyed at the thought of running in and saying “HI!”.  My wife Jen was there, my sister, my great friend Nathan… and other friends George Miller, Denise Vaughan, and Ron Little.

The Bolinas Ridge Kiss

Running into the aid station were some wonderfully motivating signs pulled together by Eric Vaughan, another spectacular and accomplished runner that was also running today.  Finally I pulled in and the aid station was quite chaotic.  I was expecting to recognize people right away, yet it was a sea of  striking unfamiliar faces.  I pressed through the crowds a bit, saw Michelle from CRC, then my sister Sona, and finally my wife Jen!  She asked if I needed anything – then gave me a BIG kiss and hug and pushed my ass right out of there – literally.

I chugged along, hitting a spell of low energy.  The Cliff Bloks were no longer appetizing and it really started to RAIN.  Then there was the fog that you could see just pouring over the trail.  The fire road ahead had, not puddles, but PONDs.  Wet feet were unavoidable; just give it up!  I thought of George Miller and just ran through the middle of most of them – fun!  I started to see the front runners which bumped up the adrenaline levels.  But oddly I passed some familiar, normally front runner faces.  Laid before me were the first signs of the 62 dropouts that would ensue – most due to hypothermia.

I hit the Randall turnaround seeking out protein, which was satisfied with 1/2 PB&J sandwich and a chunk of Payday.  I chewed on them as I hit the biggest climb of the day.  Slowly my energy built back over the course of 1/2 hour.  Arriving at Bolinas Ridge I said hello to all, mentioned, “it’s cold out there” while eating more PB&J and sipping Mountain Dew.  Jen was elated to see me, soothing her worries.  At this point about 40 people had dropped as the weather continued to deteriorate.

To my huge surprise I saw Eric there.  Wow, I had caught up to one of my club mentors whom I hold in the highest regards.  I’ve been in 3 prior races with him; all of which I was no where close to him.  It seemed dreamlike.  We both left the aid station within 1 minute of each other off into the WORST part of the trail – fully exposed to everything Mother Nature was throwing at us that day.  We talked a little then broke the sheltering forest canopy to endure the elements.  Eric paused on the trail reaching for some electrolytes and offered me the lead.  I pressed forward, seemingly in slow motion.  This wasn’t just passing another runner – this was passing someone I held in the highest regard in all aspects of ultrarunning – mentally tough, physically strong, kind, and a fierce competitor when the clock is rolling.  Passing Eric was akin to coming of age in the ultra tribe.  It was HUGE.

The weather hit hard on the return from Bolinas Ridge to Pantoll.  The wind blew with bursts that diverted your steps to the grassy side brush lining the mud trough of a trail, the rain pelted you horizontally, and the fog obscured sight beyond 10 yards.  My mantra was a line from the Faith No More song Evidence, “Just put your head down and go!”  And go! I went, running up-and-down trails turned streams in-and-out of dense fog while thinking:  “so, this is what’s it’s like on Everest!”

I eventually made it to the 2nd or 3rd large tree alcove along the trail when my eye caught a florescent yellow jacket.  Immediately I could tell things weren’t right.  The runner dressed in yellow was standing on the trail, not moving, with head down… just shivering.  I ran up and touched his shoulder, “are you okay?”  Lifting and shaking his head he replied, “no”.  “Does someone know you’re here?”  He replied, “yes”.  Knowing he was becoming hypothermic I told him, “You’ve got to move around, you can’t stand still.”  To that he pointed to his right quad and muttered it was hurt.  I could tell what I was saying wasn’t registering, like when attempting a conversation with someone who’s talking in their sleep; it just doesn’t flow like it should.  With that I told him I’d make sure help is on the way and tore off with his mileage location, name, and number locked in my head.

Fortunately 0.5 miles ahead I crossed the “rescue” runner coming to help.  I briefed him on the runner’s condition and locations and was back on my way.  To number 353, I hope you’re okay.

Fueling at Mile 49

At Pantoll (mile 49.5) I was greeted by Jen who was now crewing for me.  She was elated to see that the hypothermic runner that the aid station was rescuing was neither me nor Eric.  I had some Ensure and reloaded on supplies then was off.  Between the excitement of the weather and ailing runners I completely forgot to track my pace against my expectations.  If I had, at this point I would have seen I was 5 minutes ahead of an 11:47 finishing time.

On I ran through the Highway One aid station and then, again, to Tennesse Valley.  I saw Jen again and it was great.  Running in I was low on energy and struggling some.  I stayed at the aid station a little longer than most but it was well worth the energy infused into my system via a wonderful cup of warm soup.  This hit the spot so well it was amazing!  As I left Jen gave me a wonderful message from Eli, “Daddy don’t worry I’m taking care of everyone – just run.”  With that cuteness swirling through my mind I walked from the aid station towards the finish suddenly jolted by Jen yelling, “Hey this is a race, get moving!”  I jokingly yelled back, “Alright smart-ass”.  And I began to run.

At the crest of the climb I caught Jean Pommier.  He too was looking rather grim but pressing forward with amazing mental perseverance.  I asked if he was okay and he responded “No”.  But continued with “Go, go get 12 hours” in a thick French accent.  Something buzzed in me after that.  I looked forward on the trail ahead and spotted 2 runners, marked them and pressed forward with a fury; I had exactly 30 minutes before 12 hours tolled.  The first I caught at the cut-off onto the Wolf trail.  We reached the abruptly steep cliff-like climb together.  I just looked ahead and yelled, “Woooohhhoooooo” and charged the ascent.  Soon I passed another runner on the climb.  Then just before the transition from trail to paved footpath I passed another.  With about a mile to go I had 6-7 minutes left – almost impossible.

Post Race Talks with Eric

You could hear the finish line at this point, although obsured by the fog – cheers were projecting out of a misty cloud below.  I sprinted down the rock stairs almost sliding on my ass as I bear hugged the metal hand rail.  Again, more road but I could now see the finish… and, it was surprisingly far away.  I broke through a right hand trail turn and the finish line errupted in “Go, Runner”.  Then I could hear Jen yelling “Go, Go, Go”.  With a strong finish I crossed in 12:01:34 – an amazing race far exceeding my abilities of past.  I was estatic and didn’t feel like I had just run 62.4 miles.  Purely wonderful!  And as Eric so perfectly put it, “the race of my lifetime”.

~ by pureh2o on May 9, 2009.