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San Diego 100 – Race Report

San Diego 100 was my third 100 mile race.  My experiences at Angeles Crest 100 and Bear 100 were fairly similar to one another.  The courses are comparable, the conditions were generally comparable and my performance (and finishing time almost to the minute) were comparable.  San Diego was an entirely different beast (!).  It was nothing like the other two in nearly every way.

Before I start this race report, I need to make two things clear.  One, any “failure” to meet my pre-race goals was entirely my fault.  It’s often easy to blame the weather or unexpected injuries or other outside causes when things don’t go as planned.  (Sometimes there are real, serious health issues that get in the way of completing a race, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.)  I always try to avoid blaming those outside forces, but in this case there’s nothing else to possibly “blame”, it was all human error.  Yes, it was crazy hot out there last weekend (and the weather will play a big part in my report), but a smarter racer would have dealt with, and adjusted to, the heat.  I made errors that I should not be making at this point in my endurance racing.  And Two, despite the fact that I just used the word, I do not – by any stretch of the imagination – believe that my race was a “failure“.  Sure, I didn’t meet my personal goals and for sure, I made some big mistakes.  But just finishing that race was a huge victory for me and I’m proud as hell of what I did out there. (For more thoughts on “failure” and seeing it in a different light, check out Jimmy’s blog from the other day).

Pre-race:

In the week before the race, someone posted on Facebook that the forecast was calling for 100+ degree heat during race day.  But when I checked the forecast on Thursday, it was calling for highs in the high-80s and lows in the 50s.  High-80s would still be hot, but a lot more manageable than 100+!

Elizabeth and I drove out to the Al Bahr Campground in Mt. Laguna on Friday afternoon. When we got there around 4:30, one thing we both noticed was how warm it was.  I listened to part of the pre-race meeting, got my race packet and said hi to race director, Scotty Mills.  Scotty said, “You’re a talented runner and you’ll have a good day tomorrow as long as you run smart.”  I heard what he said and even listened.  My plan was to run a semi-conservative first half and then try to run well through the second half with my pacers.

We drove down to Alpine, checked into the Ayres Alpine Inn and had a really good dinner at Mediterraneo, right near the hotel.  When we sat down to dinner, it was comfortable outside, but before we got our food, it cooled off to the point that we had to move inside.  Between the heat in the mountains (5,485′) at 4:30 and cold down in Alpine (1,800′) at 7:30, I should have started getting physically and mentally prepared for some unexpected and changing conditions.

My parents arrived at the hotel a little later and after finishing getting everything together, I actually got a decent nights’ sleep before the race.  San Diego 100 starts at 7am, so I got to sleep until 4, which, compared to a lot of other ultras, constitutes sleeping in!

We got up to Al Bahr a little before 6.  I dropped off my only drop bag, got my bib number, hit the bathroom, did my final pre-race checks and took some family photos:

Race – Part 1 – Start to Sunrise 1 (mile 0 to mile 51.3)

The race started right at 7am.

I did not go out too fast.  I made a few mistakes in the race, but going out too fast was not one of them.

One big difference right off the bat between San Diego and AC or Bear was the fact that both AC and Bear start off with some serious climbing. That climbing forces a slow start. The first 10 miles of San Diego are rolling, there’s a 2.5 mile climb starting around mile 10.5 and a long descent from mile 20 to mile 32. You don’t get to a real serious climb until mile 36.  For the first 10 miles, I kept up a steady pace, between 9-10 minutes per mile.  I never felt like I was pushing, but also wasn’t lollygagging.

I felt good, alternating sips of Infinit and Skratch Labs Exercise Hydration Mix.  For the first 13 miles I carried two bottles.  Thankfully, at Red Tail Roost (mile 13.8), I put on my race vest with two bottles and kept one handheld.  Here I am, all smiles, coming into and then going out of Red Tail Roost.

For the next 40 miles, in between the aid stations I needed every one of the 60 ounces of liquid I was carrying.  I was drinking about enough.  It’s what I wasn’t doing that was my first – and most serious – mistake.  I wasn’t carrying any salt pills.   I think I took one at the mile 13.8 and 18.6 aid stations, but one salt pill per hour, even with the electrolytes I was getting from the Infinit and Skratch, wasn’t nearly enough.  It wasn’t even in the same universe as “enough”.  It started getting hot pretty early and, as usual, I was sweating like a pig.  As Brian Recore said much later in the race, it probably wasn’t possible for me to be taking too much salt. I don’t have a good explanation for this mistake. I didn’t have a real hydration, electrolyte or nutrition plan for the race. I think the fact that AC and Bear went so well made me complacent. The problem is that it’s the attention to detail that made AC and Bear such a success. You can’t run 100 miles by the seat of your pants.

I don’t remember where exactly things really started going downhill for me.  I know that when I came into Penney Pines (mile 23.6), I was feeling the heat and beginning to slow down.  I talked to Tommy for a couple minutes, drank half a can of ginger ale and maybe ate something, but I didn’t eat much.  My stomach wasn’t upset, but I wasn’t hungry and nothing sounded appetizing.  So I didn’t really eat.  Clearly, that was mistake number two.

The next 10 miles are downhill into Noble Canyon and as we went down from 5,500′ to 3,800′ feet, it got hotter and hotter.  And I started cramping.  First it was in my right calf, which is where it always starts.  And at first, it was only intermittent.  But, quickly it was moving from calf to calf to hamstring to quad and back around.  I would start running and seize up.  So I walked, hoping it would just get better.

By the time I got to the Coyote-staffed aid station (Pine Creek, mile 31.3), I was really suffering.  The awesome volunteers sponged me down with cold water and filled my hat with ice and I started to head out.  As I was walking out of the aid station, I realized that I hadn’t taken any food.  I went back to the aid stations grabbed some fruit and a gel or a Mamma Chia Squeeze and headed back out.  (Fruit and gel or a Mamma Chia?  Are you f-ing kidding me?  That’s about 100 calories. Dumbass!)  After Pine Creek, you do a 4.7 mile loop – you go up for two miles and down for two miles, returning right back to the aid station. I walked the entire thing.  And got passed a lot. Elan (who volunteered at the aid station and later paced and crewed me) said that at one point while he was there, it was 102 degrees. Yikes.  I finally got back to Pine Creek (now mile 36), drank some, maybe ate a little and headed out.  I was really hurting and the lowest point was still yet to come…

From Pine Creek to the next aid station, Pioneer Mail, it’s 8 miles and it’s a lot of climbing (2,407′ of elevation gain).  Right out of the aid station is a two mile climb up a road.  It’s really the only paved part of the course until the very end of the race.

It was during the second mile of this climb – the steeper, more exposed part of the climb – that I realized how much trouble I was really in.  I was overheating, getting lightheaded and struggling just to move forward.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a steep climb and it was hot and I was 37 miles into the race, but I was hurting way out of proportion to any of that.  My calves would seize up and I would stop to stretch them and then my quads would seize and I would almost fall over.  I remember thinking that I might be better off laying down on the pavement to rest.  I was pretty certain this was the beginning of the end of my race.

I did make it to the top of the road.  And thankfully – in a save-my-race way – some volunteers had set up an unofficial aid station there.  Three volunteers, a cooler full of popsicles, some jugs of water and a few chairs in the shade.  I immediately broke my first rule of ultraracing, “don’t sit down”.  I really had no choice.  The volunteers gave me a popsicle and some water and two of the three salt pills they had.  I sat for five or seven minutes and feeling only a tiny bit better, got up and continued on.  I can say with certainty that if not for that aid station, I would not have finished the race. I don’t know if I would have even made it to the next aid station.  Thank you, unofficial aid station.

I walked the next six miles to Pioneer Mail.  I just couldn’t run and got passed again and again.  Somewhere around mile 40, I got salt from a fellow runner.  I probably had a gel or two and maybe some Honey Stinger chews.  My cramps weren’t going away – and no wonder, I wasn’t even coming close to digging myself out of my dehydration, electrolyte loss or calorie deficit holes.  When I walked into Pioneer Mail, Elizabeth and Jack walked with me to where my parents had set up my stuff.  I must have looked awful.  And I felt worse than awful.  I sat again and tried to eat and drink. I chugged a can of coconut water and ate half a homemade rice cake.  I took some salt.  Jason Obirek massaged my aching calves a bit.  I changed my shoes, from a newish pair of Skechers GORun 2 into my old, beat up pair of GOBionic Trails.  (This was my third, and thankfully, final, big mistake.)  I finally got a baggie of salt pills to take with me.  Remember, it was 80-100 degrees, I’d been out for 44 miles and 10 hours and this was the first time I was carrying salt.  WTF.

I walked out of Pioneer Mail feeling better but still not sure whether I’d make it to the finish. My hopes of hitting my goals were long lost. And I was still getting passed way too often. I thought maybe the little rest, the little food and the little salt would turn it all around for me. Instead, the first time I tried to run my cramps stopped me in my tracks and I walked the 7.2 miles to the Sunrise aid station.  I was dejected, cramping like crazy and angry. I absolutely hated ultra running. Actually, I pretty much hated any kind of running. Also, I hadn’t peed in at least eight hours. Sorry to be graphic, but the few times that I’d even tried, I dribbled a few brown drops.  Wow.

I knew that at Sunrise, I would pick up Elan and have pacers the rest of the way.  But I also knew that even with pacers, I still had 50 miles to go.  I really wanted to quit.  The only thing really holding me back was some crazy determination and a desire to not want to disappoint Elan, Billy, Elizabeth and my parents.  Not wanting to disappoint myself wasn’t even in the picture at that point.

Billy saw me first and he and my family started cheering when I finally approached Sunrise.

I wanted to run it in and be strong, but instead I just stumbled in.  It was 7pm and I was now exactly 12 hours into the race. I complained about the cramping.  I know I looked like shit because instantly my parents, Elizabeth, Elan and Billy, plus Sally, plus Jason and Brian, plus Anna (a volunteer) were all over me.  I sat down and my whole body seized.  I moved to a cot and my whole body seized.  I was overheating and shivering and my lips were blue. My eyes were sunken in.

For 35 minutes, people fed me, gave me fluids and salt and broth, massaged my legs and helped me change clothes.  The cramps hurt like nothing I can remember.  But I slowly relaxed and the cramps subsided.  I walked a bit, sat some more and got ready to try to make it to the next aid station.  Elan was under strict instructions to make sure I drank and ate regularly and took a salt pill every 30 minutes.

Race – Part 2 – Sunrise 1 to Sunrise 2 (mile 51.3 to mile 80.3)

Elan and I walked for the first couple of miles out of Sunrise.  My cramps were gone but I was terrified they’d come back.  It was when I finally peed (first time in 11 hours?) that I felt like I might actually be able to continue.  This was a pretty “easy” part of the course, smooth terrain and mostly flat or downhill.  At first, Elan had me running for 5 minutes, walking for a few minutes.  It was getting dark and cooling down.  This was a perfect spot and time for me to have a chance to recover and regain some strength and confidence.

By the time we got to the next aid station (Stonewall Mine, mile 58.9), I was feeling pretty much like a new person.  Elan and I ran into the aid station (the first one I’d run into in 40 miles) and I’m sure my family and friends were at least a little surprised to see that I had recovered.  I still sat down at the aid station and took my time to drink broth and some other fluid and eat a little food.  I smiled, but I wasn’t so sure I meant it yet.

Leaving Stonewall with Elan (and photobomb Billy):

The 5.3 miles to the next aid station were tough – it’s a steep climb and then a long descent. On the course profile, this climb looks like a needle – straight up. And that’s pretty much how it felt! We pushed on the way up and I struggled on the way down. Thankfully, I wasn’t cramping, but I did feel a hotspot forming under the ball of each foot. The soles of my shoes were wearing thin, especially in the forefoot, and the rocks on the trail were putting pressure on the balls of my feet. Also, my stomach was feeling pretty awful.  One very good thing was that I was now stopping semi-regularly to pee.

We got into Paso Pichaco (mile 64.2) at 11:42pm.  I had planned on ignoring the hot spots for a while longer, but my crew insisted on at least looking at them.  Jimmy and Sally jumped into action.  Dealing with my filthy feet was probably the worst job anyone had all race!

And check out this photo, where you can see that Billy got down on all fours under my legs to prop them up for Jimmy and Sally to work!

There were no real blisters, but as a precaution, they cleaned up my feet, put some kind of bandage on and then duct taped the whole thing.  I also put on fresh socks.  This was the first time I’d ever changed socks in an ultra.

During the next 16 miles (through the Sweetwater aid station at mile 72.3 and on back to Sunrise, I continued to improve.  Elan made sure that I drank and ate (at least a little) and took salt.  I was hydrating OK and getting the electrolytes I needed.  I still wasn’t eating even close to enough, but it was really all I could do to drink some broth at each aid station and choke down a gel or some chews while out on the trail.  Elan pushed me to run more frequently.  The cramps were becoming a distant memory.  And it was nice to start passing a few people here and there for a change.

There were some points during the night when it was downright cold.  The section between Sweetwater and Sunrise 2 was probably the coldest of all.  It was such a crazy difference from earlier in the day.  We were moving fairly well so the cold didn’t bother me.

Elan and I ran into Sunrise, and I think I sat down, but only really briefly.  I made a point of finding Anna (my aid station angel from my first time there) and she literally did a “happy dance” when she saw me.  The rest of my crew, along with Sally and Brian and Jason were there as well and it felt great to see how happy they were.  Billy – who was going to pace me from Sunrise to the Finish – was either still changing or still sleeping!  He didn’t expect me to be there that soon.  We got moving pretty quickly.  It was just about 4:30am and out towards the east – the direction we were heading – we could see that sunrise was coming soon.  

Race – Part 3 – Sunrise 2 to Finish (mile 80.3 to 100.1)

The 7.2 miles from Sunrise 2 to Pioneer Mail 2 was the same trail that I’d suffered so badly through 12 hours earlier.  This time, even though I was really only moving marginally faster, I felt totally different.  I felt better than I had in 16 or 17 hours!  Billy and I passed a few more people during this section.  The sun started to come up and since the trail we were on overlooked the desert to the east, we saw an amazing sunrise.  Also, we were able to turn off our headlamps.  The air was cool, but comfortable.  Billy got some great photos of this section.

This was the first time I’d ever seen the sunrise during a race.  It was pretty amazing and definitely made it feel like a new day.

I can’t lie and say that I was feeling great and running for a great finish, but I was running more and more and, except for those hot spots on my feet and having no appetite, I had no complaints.

I don’t remember a ton from the five hours that Billy and I ran together.  I remember Billy cajoling me to eat something and remember sucking down a few disgusting gels.  There were only three aid stations between Sunrise 2 and the finish line.  We stopped for a couple/few minutes at each one, but I didn’t sit down at any of them.  I was feeling good and, even though I was being patient, I didn’t feel any need to sit and just really wanted to finish.

I was even smiling for real again.  Here are Billy and I coming into Pioneer Mail 2 at 6:30am:

and then leaving the same aid station a few minutes later:

I think I was moving pretty well and the awful cramps were a distant memory.  (I had one small scare with my pee during the last ten miles, but I don’t need to go into any more details here, and by the time I finished the race it was fine.)

There’s a tough climb around mile 92 or 93 that felt like it was going on forever.  Under “normal” circumstances I doubt it would have felt like much, but 24 hours into the race, it was the last thing I wanted to see.  But after that climb, Billy and I finished decently strong, even passing a few more people along the way.  Billy kept me moving and convinced me to run much more than I thought I could.

As we approached the finish line, we could hear the crowd long before we could see it and it felt like the dirt road through the campground was going forever.

But then, we turned one corner and there it was.  Unlike AC and Bear, the finish line at San Diego was rocking!  (I guess that’s what happens when you finish in daylight instead of the middle of the night…)  From the pictures, it looks like I ran it in.  26:38:52.  Scotty and Angela were there to congratulate me and give me my medal.  Everyone who had supported me through the long day was there with a hug or a high five.

And here I am, after changing clothes, getting my feet cleaned up and eating a little food.  The post-race veggie chili was yummy!

Lynne Cao was the official race photographer and there are a ton of photos posted on her website. She got some good ones of me at the finish: scroll through “img_1064” to “img_1070“.  This one is probably my favorite and really shows how I felt at the moment.  There’s also a really nice one of me with Elizabeth, my parents, Billy, Elan and Scotty.

In the end, I think I spent over two hours in aid stations.  At both AC and Bear, I probably spent 30-45 minutes in aid stations.  That’s a huge difference.  It’s not like there was any way around it, but looking back on it, it still seems like a lot of lost time.

It was hard-fought and I definitely earned that finish.  It’s not a race I am likely to ever forget. And hopefully, I’ll keep the lessons I learned in mind for every future race.  I will not go into another race without a written hydration, nutrition and electrolyte plan. And I will take that plan seriously during the race. I do not want to go through what I put myself through again!

I posted this awesome video the other day, but it deserves to be posted again.  Billy put it together.  It tells my race story in 3.5 minutes.  If you haven’t already seen it, here it is:

San Diego 100 is a fantastic race that I would recommend to anyone.  Scotty and Angela did a fantastic job this year and from what I’ve heard, that’s pretty much how it goes at the race every year.  The course was impeccably marked and the aid stations were stocked with everything a runner could want or need – even if one runner didn’t take it until it was too late 🙂  All of the volunteers were amazing.  Special thanks to the “popsicle stand” volunteers and to Anna at Sunrise.

Finally, BIG, no HUGE, thank yous to a ton of people who made my race possible.  It’s worth repeating what I wrote the other day  – there is no way I would have finished the race without you:  Mom and Dad, for crewing me from 5am Saturday when we left the hotel until sometime after 2pm Sunday when I finally fell asleep at home in San Diego, showered and well fed.   Billy and Elan for crewing and pacing me for 50 miles (which on that day took 14.5 hours!) (special thanks to Billy for that sick video!).  Brian and Jason who stepped in pretty early and gave me and my crew invaluable advice to get me out of the depths and finally across the finish line.  Sally and Jimmy who helped crew and had the thankless job of fixing my dirty, sweaty feet at Paso Pichaco.   And last, but definitely not least, Elizabeth, who crews me just about every day of our lives.  She puts up with a lot of shit from me and doesn’t complain (too much) about the days I spend running and the nights I spend not doing anything fun in order to rest up for a run.  Thanks love!  I love you.