Pine to Palm 100 - September 12, 2015

NOTE: This was originally a ‘Note’ on Facebook, posted September 20, 2015. 

As this was my first 100 mile run, I'll begin this report with what I learned during the overall training process. Skip to the section titled "Start to O'Brien Creek" if you just want to read about the race. I also have a section at the end about the specifics of gear I used that you might be interested in visiting directly. Now, the insights.

1. Running 100 miles is not an individual effort. This was both the most obvious and most important lesson. From everyone who encouraged me (with gestures as small as a Like on Facebook and as large as a custom video message: Jesse, Brad, Doug, Kurt, Julia, Erin, Tony, DJ, Andrew, Christopher) to all of the friends who logged long runs with me (Andrew, Joe, Joaquin, Max, Julia, Jamie), keeping me motivated when I'd rather be sleeping on a Saturday or resting on a Sunday, to my crew on race day (Robyn, Crispin, Caroline, Max, Julia, Jamie), who kept my spirits high and my body fueled, to my awesome pacer Julia, who kept me focused on my plan and excited about each milestone, to my longtime partner-in-crime (and lovely wife) Jamie, who was a logistical genius, a smoothie-making saint, and a constant source of encouragement during a very long training period, I had a tremendous team of supporters. This was the one lesson that I can't connect to my own planning, and I feel incredibly lucky to have found such a wonderful group of people.

2. Consistency was the second most important key to my success. The best tool for me to stay consistent was a detailed long-term plan, outlining how many miles I had to run (or not run) each day (see here). This helped me plan for trips that took me to Kauai, Milan, London, Seattle, Bozeman, Portland, Phoenix, New York, London, Portland, Miami, Sao Paolo, Washington, Baltimore, Chicago, Minneapolis, and Seattle in addition to figuring out how to juggle long weekday runs with some early morning meetings. In addition, I found that consistency also depended on ensuring that my current effort did not prevent my future effort; n.b., holding yourself back from going too hard when you're feeling great is nearly as important as pushing yourself to complete a challenging run.

3. While it has been suggested by countless others before, the mental challenge was far greater than the physical challenge of running 100 miles. I experienced this in my first ultras, and thus, much of my training and much of my final preparation focused on the mental aspects of running this distance. I found that creating situations I expected to encounter during the race (e.g., heat, long climbs) and developing a detailed plan for the race, which you'll see below, were extremely helpful. Race day felt like mostly a mental, rather than physical test, as I was clearly physically prepared by the time I arrived at the starting line (I had run more than 2,500 miles and climbed more than 250,000 feet in the year leading up to the race).

4. The final insight I gained during this process is that much of running and much of running long distances does not become easier physically as you train. Make no mistake, running the same distance at the same speed does indeed become more enjoyable, less painful, and easier; however, as I got faster, I continued to push myself at a similar effort as before, and I found that I experienced similar levels of discomfort on my more recent runs as I did on runs a year ago. The real difference I experienced was that I was able to recover faster from challenging parts of runs, both during and afterwards, which ultimately made the mental effort easier.

Now for the race, which is broken up into the sections I used in my race plan (I've condensed a few as this is already pretty long):

Start to O'Brien Creek (0-13), 0600, (expected temps) 58F rising to 75F

Jamie and I arrived at the start around 0520 and were able to get a parking spot fairly close to the starting line. At about 0550 we walked up to the start and a few minutes later, I was off hiking up the first climb with Max.

Max and I started off nice and conservative, hiking nearly all the uphill grades with a nice easy jog pace on the flats and occasional downhills. This section featured nearly 5,000 feet of gain in the first 10 miles with around 1,500 feet of loss in the last 3 miles. We hit the water-only Rock Creek aid station at the 4 mile mark about 60 minutes into the run as expected.

At O'Brien Creek I filled my 3 bottles with Carbo Pro and water and gorged on some pineapple before heading out. As the temperature was starting to climb, I decided to deploy my neck and wrist wraps, stuffing all three with ice, and adding my Outdoor Research Sun Runner hat. I budgeted to be leaving O'Brien creek around 9:44, and I left around 9:43. Max left a little before me, and I wouldn't see him again until Squaw Lakes.

O'Brien Creek to Seattle Bar (13-27), 0943-1225, 75F to 92F

As I started down the gravel road to the Steamboat Ranch aid station, which is about 8 miles from O'Brien Creek, I sped up a bit, clocking my only two sub-10 minute miles. This section loses about 1,100 feet, and I was worried this pace was a bit fast so I slowed to a 10-11-minute pace while trying to make sure I stayed in the shade given the rising temperature. I started to get noticeably tired just before seeing the Steamboat Ranch aid station, which was playing a DJ Earworm United States of Pop mashup (maybe the 2014 version) as I arrived. I refilled two bottles with Carbo Pro and refilled my wraps with ice before leaving.

The next section was probably the second or third most difficult of the race for me, which is surprising looking back. While the terrain was easy and flat (gravel roads, ~400ft loss), it was mostly exposed to the sun, which sapped my energy quite a bit after my ice melted. I was doing okay getting calories in, but my stomach didn't feel great. I mostly was eating Hammer gel and for some reason forgot about my Gin Gins, which certainly would have helped me feel better. As we got to a road section I began to worry that the day was going to be more difficult than expected. I kept going and heard some sign of the Seattle Bar aid station, but I still had more than a mile before I got to it. My spirits were boosted by the sign notifying me that I was entering California, and I picked up the pace to head down into the aid station, where I saw the best sight of the race (yes, better than the finish): Jamie waiting for me with a smoothie.

Due to a last minute work interview, Jamie wasn't going to be able to be at the finish, but she figured out that she could probably make it to Seattle Bar to meet me. I hadn’t been sure. In the time following dropping me off at the start, she also made a smoothie that I love, despite us both agreeing the night before that it would be too difficult to do. The smoothie tasted delicious and was just what I needed to get back on track. Seeing the rest of the crew was also a huge boost as they swarmed me to ask me what I needed and how I was feeling. While they refilled my water bottles with Carbo Pro, I weighed in with the medical team, registering a 5 lbs decrease from my check-in weight the night before. I had been drinking water well, but I had lost a lot in sweat. I filled my wraps with ice, put my vest back on, and donned my hat, which also contained a good amount of ice. I headed out about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, and I let one of the volunteers dowse me with ice water as I expected the next section to be hot and difficult (my race notes told me "going to be brutal").

Seattle Bar to Squaw Lake + Squaw Lake Loop (27-42), 1235-1701, 92F to 96F

As I started this section heading out of the Seattle Bar station, I was pretty emotional after saying goodbye to Jamie. It ended up putting me in a good mindset to tackle the next "going to be brutal" section, which was a six-mile, ~2,300 foot climb to the Steine Butte aid station. I focused on doing a steady hike and getting a good breath cadence to power the climb. This section was much less exposed than I expected, and while it was tough, I handled it well by focusing on being steady. After the peak at Stein Butte, there was another small but unexpected climb up Elliot Ridge trail, at the top of which was a sign for the Stein Butte aid station. The sign indicated that the station was half a mile farther than I expected, but I was in good enough spirits that this didn't matter.

I cruised into the Stein Butte aid station and smiled at the staff, which appeared to be members of a high school cross country team. I didn’t really like running cross country in high school, but some of my best friends were teammates. The kids were very eager to help and got my bottles and wraps filled quickly. I was feeling good and still ahead of schedule as I left to begin the 7 mile drop down to Squaw Lake. I don't remember much of this section other than it was a nice downhill, at which I tend to excel relative to others. The mileage on my watch was a bit off as I arrived at Squaw Lake about a mile before I expected. At Squaw Lake, there were a ton of people, since this was the next crewed aid station after Seattle Bar, and I saw my crew and then Max sitting on a stump. Max was not feeling great, having had stomach troubles on the previous section. He was working on getting some food down while I took off for the 2-mile lake loop. I was planning for a dip in the lake before leaving the aid station. I left my vest behind and took just a handheld bottle, which was a great feeling. After I finished the loop, the crew met me with my drop bag at the water's edge. My bag was stocked with a towel, flip flops, and a fresh shirt. I took off my shoes and found my feet in good shape, tossed my shirt aside, and walked into the lake. Robyn’s encouragement (she was the most accomplished ultra runner of my crew) made me feel like getting in the lake was a great idea, but it was even better than expected. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a swim more. I submerged myself and then just floated upright with my feet brushing the grass on the lake bottom. Julia tossed me another smoothie from Jamie, which I savored.

I probably spent only a couple of minutes in the lake, but they were glorious. I exited feeling refreshed, despite making a joke about wanting to kick back with a beer. I put on a new shirt and new socks before lacing up my shoes and strapping on my vest. My bottles were full and I was ready to go. Max was out on the loop, testing his body to see if he'd be able to go on. Given his struggle at that point, I wasn't sure if the crew would make it to Hanley Gap in time to see me, and I prepared not to see them until Dutchman Peak. With lots of cheers from the crew, I headed out to the Kilgore Gulch aid station just after 1700, about 35 minutes ahead of schedule.

Squaw Lake to Hanley Gap plus Squaw Peak, (42-52), 1707-1953 94F to 78F

I expected the Kilgore Gulch aid station to be a mere 3 miles away but it turned out to be a bit more than 4. This wasn't too bad because I figured that some of the climb I'd done to reach the station, which was unstaffed and water only, meant that the rest of the trip to Hanely Gap would be shorter. I met a guy at the aid station who had gone off course by 4 miles. He seemed to be handling the mistake well, which I admired. I discovered ice in one of the chests and did a quick fill on my neck wrap as the temperature was still warm. The next section to Hanley Gap was pretty good, perhaps the best of the race. I ran more than I expected, passing a couple of other runners. There was a nice memorial on the side of the trail, which somehow got me thinking about my Grandpa Jim.

Running along the trail with the setting sun, thinking about my grandpa while knowing I was coming to the halfway point in the race was one of the moments that brings me back to trail running again and again. I can't quite describe the joy other than that I just felt that I was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. It was contact.

I arrived into Hanley Gap, passing the family of the guy I met at Kilgore Gulch who were out looking for him. They were excited when I told them he was ahead of me, and they sprinted down the trail to catch up to him as I wished I could. Nevertheless, I was in doing well when I came into the aid station and saw my crew, which now included Max. He dropped after the Squaw Lakes loop, but he was in good spirits, which inspired me. I dropped my vest with the crew and took off my hat and ice wraps as the temperature was easing. I headed up to Squaw Peak to fetch a token to prove I'd done the climb, which turned out to be a disposable diaper (I'm guessing someone really wanted to make a joke about doing a diaper check on the runners). I made the one-mile climb to Squaw Peak pretty easily, although I forgot my headlamp and the sun was setting. The scene at the top was beautiful, and I snapped a few pictures, including one with the diaper in hand for insurance purposes, before heading back down.

I arrived back at the Hanley Gap aid station, dropped off my diaper, and then proceeded to eat half of a smoothie, saving the rest for Dutchman Peak. I also ate some Cup o' Noodles, which tasted pretty good. My watch was low on battery at that point so Crispin retrieved my portable charger, and he and Julia taped the watch to the charger before placing it in a Ziploc bag in my vest. As I was leaving with refilled water bottles and about 40 minutes ahead of schedule, I put my headlamp on and decided to listen to music. Julia interjected to see if I was okay as I don't normally listen to music while I run, keeping it only for difficult circumstances. I told her I was doing well, that I just wanted to listen to it during the next section, which was the first one in the dark and the first in which I wouldn't have my watch to keep track of progress.

Hanley Gap to Dutchman Peak, (52-67), 2000 - 2353, 78F to 66F

As I left the aid station, the Top Gun theme played in my ears, which I found half inspiring, half hilarious. I loved that movie as a kid (I can probably still recite every line), but I don't think I could have chosen a cheesier first song for my P2P playlist, even if it were Eye of the Tiger. As I proceeded up the 6-mile climb to Squaw Creek gap, I saw the two headlamps ahead of me turn around, about 3 songs or a 1 mile into the section. I took out my headphones to see what was up and one guy yelled "Snake!". I secured my headphones to my vest and began sweeping my head side to side to look for the snake. About 50 yards ahead I heard a long rattle in the bushes to my right and with only a quick glance that failed a visual confirmation, I kept my momentum up the fire road. This, unfortunately, marked the end of my music listening for the evening, as I wanted to make sure I had all my senses ready for any subsequent wildlife encounters. The next five or so miles ended up being pretty challenging without my watch to track progress and no music. I was going pretty slow up the hill as I didn't want to burn up too much energy (and I was a bit afraid of stepping on a baby snake sans rattle, which I'm told are more poisonous). After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, I made it to Squaw Creek Gap. I had lost about 20 minutes of my buffer versus prediction. I ate some miso soup at the aid station, and I checked on my watch to see how the charge was progressing. Thankfully, it was at 100% so I could strap it back on as I headed up the final climb to Dutchman Peak.

The folks at the Squaw Creek Gap aid station said that Dutchman was only about 5 miles away. By my plan, it was 6 miles away, but I also had thought that I would see the Squaw Creek Gap aid station sooner, so I figured that maybe they had set up a bit farther up the trail than expected. The climb to Dutchman felt long with the dust of vehicles and the uncertainty of the distance in my head. I saw a baby scorpion on the way up to the peak, which I had read about in other race reports, and also as the other reports told me, I heard the music from the peak well before I reached it.

Even knowing that the music did not mean I was close, I still found hearing it challenging. I also had not quite put together that the aid station, which was now on top of Dutchman peak, was a mile farther than I had noted on my race plan. This all made for a pretty tough climb, which saw me lose an additional 10 minutes of my buffer by the time I reached the aid station.

Despite feeling like I had been climbing forever, I was in a good mood at Dutchman as this was where Julia would join me. While getting food and getting my bottles filled, I got pretty chilly and decided to change shirts once more. I also decided to wear my windbreaker and put on my gloves. Julia also grabbed out the glow sticks from my drop bag while I finished my last bit of smoothie, which meant we would conform to Metcalfe Family Rule No. 1, Look cool. We ended up leaving about 5 minutes before my race plan prediction.

Dutchman Peak to Long John Saddle, (67-75), 0002 - 0221 66F to 63F

We started this section with a nice jog down the first mile of the peak. After a couple of miles, my legs felt less steady and I started to walk more. We came to the PCT section, which seemed to have a huge dropoff to the left, and this combined with the uneven footing made me walk even more. We were expecting that this section would be all downhill, but we found that there was a good amount of uphill. Because of the move of the Dutchman aid station to the peak rather than the saddle, we also weren't sure how far this section would be. Just after we began to believe that the section would be a mile longer than expected, we saw a glow stick hanging from a tree, which ended up being an indication that we were only half a mile from the aid station. This was a great section to have a pacer on as it was a little eerie with the cliff to the left of the trail.

We arrived at Long John Saddle, which is the last time we would see the crew. Crispin had already jumped in to pace another runner, but Max, Robyn, and Caroline were still helping out. Julia and I both ate some grilled cheese, and I had some Coca-cola as we were pushing 0230. We'd lost a bit of time during this section as my notes had inappropriately described it as all downhill. Nevertheless, we were still nearly exactly on my predicted schedule, and spirits were still pretty decent as we headed toward the Wagner Butte trailhead.

Long John Saddle to Wagner Butte, (75-80), 0230 - 0434, 63F to 60F

This was a relatively easy stretch on paper, and knowing that the next section would be pretty challenging, Julia suggested that I push a little during this section. My feet were not feeling great at this point, which made pushing difficult, but we managed to make it through this section in a decent time, albeit a little slower than expected. I discovered a rock in my shoe, which somehow found its way in despite wearing gaiters all day, that was actually a major cause of foot pain and removing it helped a little. All day I found the gravel roads to be my most challenging sections. I'm still not sure why this was, but I do think my shoes allowed me to feel a bit more gravel than I would have liked. I also thought about my grandpa on this section again, and despite feeling sad, thinking about him oddly alleviated pain temporarily and helped me push the pace a bit. I don't remember much more of this stretch other than that I was pretty tired when we arrived at the Wagner Butte trailhead.

Wagner Butte to 2060 Rd, (80-90), 0444 - 0832, 60F to 59F

At the Wagner Butte aid station they had a conceptual map of the next section of the race. It was three miles up to a turn, and then two miles up to the top of Wagner Butte, followed by 2 miles back down to the turn and then another 3 miles to the 2060 Rd aid station.

I knew this would be a tough section, but I wasn't quite prepared for how challenging I would find it. It would be my most difficult section of the race. As we began the climb up Wagner Butte, my legs felt really stiff and my energy was low. The trail was pretty technical and I kept telling myself to "just fucking keep moving". I felt really uncoordinated and kept my eye on my watch to track the mileage and distract my mind. The three miles up to the turn seemingly took forever as I hobbled over the rough terrain. I worried that my legs would seize up and cause us to have to sit and rest and that I simply wouldn't be able to climb up the boulders at the summit to retrieve the flag, like some kid who can't get over the rope wall in an obstacle course. Nevertheless, we kept moving with Julia chiming in periodic words of encouragement that kept me from vocalizing any negative thoughts. As we hit the turn 3 miles into the climb the sky was noticeably lighter. We were about 30 minutes from sunrise. While I'm not sure if the pace picked up much, this section definitely felt a bit easier. We saw Crispin on his way down with his runner, which was a nice surprise. His runner was very glad to have him leading the way. Julia commented on the beautiful colors we were seeing, and I then focused on how great the sunrise was going to look from the top.

When we got near the top, the bouldering was not too challenging. We scampered up and found the quiver of flags.

I grabbed one and took a seat on a rock, relieved that I'd overcome what felt like the first legitimate threat to me finishing the race. Julia was pumped and helped me rally from my exhausted state, alluding to the fact that we'd just finished the last real challenge of the race.

After taking a couple of photos of the sunrise, which was gorgeous, we started back down.

The downhill was painful on the quads and feet, but we were pretty steady on the first two miles to the turn.

In the last three miles, I picked up the pace a bit with the steeper grade, although with numerous large fallen trees and a poorly worn trail, this wasn't a fast section. The 2060 aid station appeared before I expected it, but we had spent 85 more minutes on this overall section than I expected. Fortunately, one of the best surprises awaited me at the aid station.

2060 Rd to the Finish, (90-100.5), 0842 - 1033, 59F to 61F

At 2060 Rd, there was a griddle as there had been at several other aid stations, but instead of grilled cheese sandwiches, the volunteers were cooking pancakes. I asked for one with syrup, and it's the best pancake I've ever eaten. The mix was hand milled by one of the volunteers and was light and fluffy but incredibly flavorful. It was nothing short of fantastic. I ate it enthusiastically with my hands.

This gave me a solid energy boost, and Julia and I started the remaining 10.5 miles to the finish. At this point, Julia informed me that if we pushed the pace, we might get to see Jamie at the finish. Jamie had stayed in Ashland overnight to try to see me at the finish rather than the original plan of flying home. Julia and I both thought at this point that if I could finish by 1100, I would be able to see Jamie. I did the math and figured that averaging 12-minute miles over the downhill stretch, which didn't seem easy but seemed possible, would get me there in time. I started to tear up a bit as we began the run, which meant I went a bit fast. Julia reminded me to stay in control at just about the time that I felt my left IT band act up. From there on I focused on a steady downhill pace, keeping myself on the flattest portion of the gravel road so as to avoid any IT issues. The miles ticked off, and I asked Julia how many more she thought we had. Her estimate was a mile more than what I had in my head, but I didn't let this change my focus. Regardless of who was right, we were going to make it to the finish by 1100. Julia was upset that we were not seeing the ribbons marking the course, but I was pretty confident we were on the right path.

Around a corner we saw the last unstaffed water-only aid station with a sign that read 4 miles to go. We were both surprised and excited that we only had 4 to go. We continued the steady pace down the gravel road until we hit the mountain bike trail. The grade was steeper and the trail firmer, which meant that we slowed a bit while wincing at the ankle/quad/foot pain. The mountain bike trail eventually gave way to pavement and the steep descent into town. We followed spray-painted markings on the road as we continued to bear an ever steeper gradient on a firmer surface.

Just as the grade began to ease, I saw Robyn and Max and realized the finish was just around a lefthand corner. As we rounded the turn, Robyn told me to smile and everyone encouraged me to sprint it in. I definitely went faster, but I'm not sure I'd call it a sprint at that point.

As I was running to the big purple gate, I kept looking for Jamie, but she was nowhere to be found.

I crossed the finish line just after 1030, clocking 28:33:07, about 70 minutes after I expected to finish.

I stood dazed for a minute and then saw Julia rushing at me with a giant smile, and she gave me a huge bear hug. I was actually worried I might fall over, but fortunately for my pride, I stayed upright. Her enthusiasm was fantastic and helped me start to comprehend what I had just finished.

I learned that Jamie actually had to leave a couple of hours earlier and that we didn't really have a chance to meet her. Julia hadn't received the last text notifying her of this and was equally surprised that we didn't see her. But, Jamie was driving back to SF, and so Julia handed me her phone to give Jamie a call. As I sat in a chair under some shade, Jamie answered the phone, and without even saying hello, I blurted out, "I did it."

Most of the rest of the day is hazy. I sat for a few minutes near the finish, seeing one other runner come in, but Max and Caroline took me to my rental place shortly thereafter. My body was in a fair amount of pain, and after showering, I tried to sleep off and on without much success before zonking out around 2p. I ended up missing the awards ceremony, which was a bummer; however, I'm not sure I would have been very coherent. I was able to rally for dinner, and we had a good time trading stories over a final meal in Ashland.

I'm not sure in what capacity, but I plan to be back at Pine to Palm next year; if not running myself, I will be crewing for Max who is already pumped to give it another go.

Needless to say, this was an incredible experience. This race was quite difficult, but it’s incredibly well run. It challenges you at nearly every point but in the best way with a ton of support. As I noted in the beginning, the group of people I had specifically in support was amazing. I cannot thank Robyn, Max, Crispin, Caroline, Julia, and Jamie enough for all of their help. Any of them can count me as a crew member any time.

Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/391822894/overview

Gear (stuff I had on me) most of the time:

• Brooks Cascadia 9 shoes

• Nike Miler shirts

• Nike Dri-Fit shorts

• Nike Dri-Fit socks

• Nike sunglasses with prescription Transitions lenses

• Outdoor Research Sun Runner hat

• Ice wraps = DKNY small women's tights; leg portions cut to create wraps that could be filled with ice

• Ultimate Direction Scott Jurek vest

• Ultimate Direction Water bottles (3)

• Flip Belt

• Buff

• Gin Gins

• Ultra Gam Gaiters

• Garmin Fenix 3 with HRM

• Timex Expedition watch

• Hammer gels

• Carbo Pro

• iPhone 6 in a Ziploc snack bag

• Second skin

• SPOT Gen3

• Body Glide

Drop bags had some combination of:

• socks

• Carbo Pro

• Hammer gel

• Towel (at Squaw lake)

• Wash cloth

• Scissors

• Second Skin

• Extra shirt

• Extra shorts

• Fluxmob charger w/iPhone charging cable

• Nike windbreaker