Date: September 12, 2020.
Objective: Go 100 miles with 22,000 feet of elevation gain in 36 hours with intermittent cutoff's along the way.
Links: Strava. 2020 Super Course. IMTUF 100.
The big week had come and I felt confident and ready. Confident that I was going to be in for a long and TUF journey, and ready to suffer my way though it. My training had been the best I could do, all things considered. Between the summer heat and busy shifts at work leaving me with little sleep at least two days a week, I had to constantly readjust my training plans. If I've learned one thing, its that adjusting a training plan is necessary and "powering though" just to forge ahead to stick to the "plan" can be foolish and lead to overtraining or burnout. At least I felt like I nailed my taper. One notable change to the race itself was that it had been moved from the normal location of Burgdorf, to Jug Mountain Ranch. The normal even-year clockwise course had been changed to the "Super Course". A mashup of the McCall Trail Running Classic 40 mile course and a good portion of the normal IMTUF course. The general consensus of this change was that an already extremely difficult course got even harder.
We were early (which means barely on time) to the start line and check in. I navigated the typical early morning chaos of restrooms, drop bags and "yes, I'm actually starting" and was back at the car getting final preparations in order when I caught a strong whiff of some chronic smoke that almost made me gag. Whoa... brah... I appreciate the enthusiasm, but daaaannnng brah... It was 5:45 in the AM.
Deez would be crewing with Landen in tow and I had three drop bags out on the course. My mental game was set and I knew that trying to "crush" the first climb up, over and down Jughandle Mountain was not going to do me any favors. The forecast was for warm temps and smoky skies, but Saturday morning was about 34F waiting for the starting nod. I wanted to run in those first few miles to warm up, but stuck to a fast walk for the most part. The first climb of the course had about 4,000 feet of gain, so I forced myself to chill. On the climb up Jug, I could feel the air getting warmer as the sun rose. I told myself "go slow, go smooth." At the top of Jughandle, I noticed that I was about 30 minutes behind my projected pace. I told myself that it made no sense to "make up time" now and kept my effort chill, but I did run when the opportunity presented itself.
After the first aid station at Louie Lake, there was some fairly easy ground and it felt good to be moving at a quicker pace than the crawl up and down Jug. On the south facing trail up to Boulder Summit (not the summit of Boulder Mountain) I could feel the heat kicking up a notch. Once over the pass and headed down the north side, it was fairly shaded and there were a few streams to cross. I knew I was behind my "target pace" but hey, things change.
I pulled into the second aid station which was the first crew access point and Deez and Landen were waiting. I had planned to be able to take a few minutes here, but I got myself in a panic when the aid station guys reminded us that there was a hard cutoff coming up in a about three and a half hours at the next aid station which was 9.5 miles away. Eek. I was 5/10 worried.
I felt it was a better option to keep moving and make the cutoff than it was to "take a few minutes". Jogging the road past Slick Rock was pretty nifty since I've never actually seen it before. But down in that canyon I could really feel the heat coming on. This next big climb of the course goes up Fall Creek with 2,700 feet of elevation gain and about the same vertical descent in about 9.5 miles. No easy task, but it felt manageable. At the start of the climb, I could feel my legs getting a little heavy. I started taking salt caps to help help cramping, but I always, always cramp up in the heat. Eventually the heat and steep terrain began to take its toll and pretty soon I was stopping every five minutes or so to shake out a calf cramp here and a hammy cramp there. I was already running low on fluid despite topping off at the last aid station and I did not want to be in a position of rationing water on a hot climb. I was looking for any stream nearby that might be drinkable, or at least be good enough for a quick dip, but I never found one. By the top of the climb I was getting cramps in my sides and had a constant twinge/cramp on the inside of the my left leg.
I figured that even at a walking pace, I could still probably make the cutoff. I popped one more salt cap, took a gel, drained the last mouth full of fluid and prepared for battle. There was little shade and in my humble opinion, it was pretty dang hot and miserable. This part of the course is on a dusty ATV trail which wasn't too bad, but the downhill section I was looking forward to did not do my legs any favors.
I saw a course marker that indicated 2 miles to go until the aid station. I think deep down, I knew my day was over at this point. "Just make the cutoff" was all I could think about. Denise and I were in cell service so I knew at least the crew was there. My pace was reduced to a hobble and my legs were starting to seize. I was having flashbacks to the worst muscle cramps I have ever had at the McCall Trail Running Classic in 2018. On a very hot and shadeless climb up Boulder Mountain, my legs totally seized up and I was actually laying under a tree for a bit with my legs totally locked. Somehow I managed to work though that, but today was different.
I stumbled into South Crestline with about 5 minutes to spare, but the damage was done. From that point, I would have to cover at least another 25 miles with at least 4,000 feet of elevation gain to the next crew access point. There were two other aid stations on the next section known as The Crestline, which was presumed to be some of the toughest terrain on the course, but no crew access. That basically means there is nowhere to drop out when, not if, but body totally shut down. Even though the crew rallied to get me what I needed, there was no point in going on. I would only be putting myself and possibly others at risk.
Just because this is a supported mountain run, it does not mean that there are other people to riley on if you get into trouble. If it had been 25 miles to the finish, "they" couldn't have stopped me from going on, but that was not the case. Taking my first DNF was a hard, but honest. Today was just not my day. It looked like there were several others that either didn't make the cutoff or dropped at South Crestline. By the time the race was over, the DNF rate was over 50%. Out of 207, 90 finished. I was merely a statistic and casualty of war. I tip my hat to those who made it past the 50k mark and especially to those who finished. Extremely difficult? Damn skippy! Will I try again? Lets just say, never say never. After all, I vividly remember when I said I'd never try a 100 miler. And yet, there I was...
Big thanks to Team Turtle for the love and support. Thanks to all the race volunteers and the race directors Jeremy and Brandi. In 2020 aka the COVID year, it was amazing this happened at all. No whining, no excuses, no regrets!
Team Turtle pre race. |
Between Ladybug and Jug. |
The summit of Jug through the trees. |
Looking north towards Boulder Mountain. |
On Jug. |
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