Feel The Recovery With OOFOS

Disclaimer: I received a pair of OOFOS Men's OOriginal Sport Sandals to review as part of being a BibRave Pro. Learn more about becoming a BibRave Pro (ambassador), and check out BibRave.com to review, find, and write race reviews!


I don’t like to improperly use or overuse the word “literally” like many of the YouTubers my children watch, but the first time I slid my feet into my new pair of OOFOS Men's OOriginal Sport Sandals I literally said “OOO!” I had heard the hype from other BibRave Pros and read the testimonials on the OOFOs website, but until actually feeling the OOfoam™ technology under my feet I couldn’t believe that any sandal could be that much superior to my normal rotation of sandal brands. I now very comfortably stand corrected on my OOFOs sandals. 

Perfect for fireworks on the beach too!

I sincerely believe that I cannot do these sandals justice by describing how great they feel on your feet whether it’s a day relaxing by the pool or after running a nearly 100 mile ultramarathon (both of which I did while testing these sandals out). In my humble opinion, the only way to truly appreciate and understand the difference that OOFOS offers is by experiencing it yourself. So by all means, do yourself a favor and go try a pair on using the OOFOS retail store locator.

Until then, here are just a few more reasons that may motivate you to go feel the OOfoam™ difference.

1. It’s Science Bro!
In a third party laboratory study (University of Virginia, 2018) OOFOS patented footbed was found to reduce energy exertion in the ankles by up to 20%. Additionally, OOfoam™ was found to absorb 37% more impact than competitors’ sandal foam material.

I can’t quantify the recovery benefits or the feeling I got when wearing OOFOS after a long run, but I can say that it felt like recovery for my poor, abused feet. I don’t know if it was the better fit with the arch support or the extra shock absorption of the OOfoam™, but one of those or the combination of both were more pampering than my feet have likely ever been treated to. This was especially nice after those long ultramarathons that were followed by a 5-6 hour drive home. If you don’t believe me when I say my feet need the recovery, just watch a few of my YouTube videos. 

2. Discounts for Joining the OOFamily
Who doesn’t want to save money? If you join the OOFamily you’ll immediately get $5 off your first order. Then earn points for additional savings every time you shop. Earn 200 points for each friend you refer while your friend gets 10% off of their first purchase. It’s a win-win!

3. Just Look At These!
I don’t have the greatest fashion sense,if any at all, but these sandals just look nice!

4. Latex Free and Non-Toxic
All OOFOS products are latex free so latex allergies are not an issue. They are painted with non-toxic paints and made from foam with non-toxic properties so you can feel safe wearing them.

5. Get Support While Supporting a Worthy Cause
A 3% donation for every pair of OOFOS that is sold on OOFOS.com goes directly to the Dana-Farber Breast Cancer Research team to support medical advancements in the battle against breast cancer. It is a cause that has a very personal connection to the OOFOS brand. In 2014 the Brand Leader and Marketing Director of OOFOS was diagnosed with “treatable, non-curable” stage four breast cancer. Here is Duncan’s story in her own words.

See What My Fellow BibRave Pros Had To Say About OOFOS:

Corey
Fun Size Athlete
My Feet In Motion
Wandering WonThanh

2019 Run Ragged Last Person Standing

At the finish!

“A lot of people decry competition as a negative thing. It’s not. You come to love your competitors because you’ve been through this hell together. You don’t want your competitors to quit, but you need them to quit. These things are going on in your head at the same time. That’s a little bit evil. A total mindfuck, runners say.”

-- Gary Cantrell aka Lazarus Lake

Forty-two. It is the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything", at least according to Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It was also the number of runners that arrived to run the inaugural Run Ragged on June 13th in Berlin, CT at the Ragged Mountain Trailhead. Maybe it’s a bit of a coincidence in a sense because I’ve found that longer distance ultras are an excellent means for me to believe I’ve found the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything", at least at the wee hours of the morning after exhaustion sets in and my fragile mind starts getting somewhat loopy.

The event was a slight twist on the last person standing race format made explosively popular recently by Courtney Dauwalter and Johan Steene’s amazing performances (279.168 and 283.335 miles respectively) at the 2018 Big Backyard Ultra hosted by the evil genius Gary Cantrell aka Lazarus Lake. The race format requires runners to complete a 4.166667 mile loop in under an hour. The beauty of the rather seemingly random distance is that in exactly 24 hours you’ll have run exactly 100 miles. Sounds pretty easy so far, but every hour the race restarts and all runners must do it again and again and again until all but one runner remains. The last runner to finish one lap more than any other runner becomes the sole winner; all other runners receive a big fat DNF (Did Not Finish). Is it fair? Maybe not. Could it be soul crushing? Maybe so, but that is how the race format works. In fact, there could be no winner at all if a final group of runners goes out and none of them make it back before the one hour cut off.

The RDs of Run Ragged added a few twists to the format making it a bit unique amongst the abundant crop of so many new races that have popped up recently which are nearly exact replicas of the Big Backyard Ultra format. Where the traditional format uses a daylight trail loop and a night road course, Run Ragged used a single trail loop for its entirety. Most last person standing races use a relatively easy 4.166667-mile-long course. Run Ragged opted for a more challenging 5k loop. It was a shorter distance, but from what I’ve heard of other last person standing events the terrain and elevation gain (≈ 500’ per lap) made it a tougher course. While a good portion of the Run Ragged course was runnable, it was not easy or mindless running. The more runnable sections were broken up by technical stretches, short and steep climbs, and some tricky descents. 

Just before the start.

The Run Ragged course is made up entirely of the New England Trail (NET) and NET side/connector trails. The NET was designated a National Scenic Trail in March of 2009. The course starts at the Ragged Mountain Preserve trailhead following the red/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail for about 0.78 miles. Then just before turning onto the yellow/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail you are treated to a pretty welcome vista overlooking Lower Heart Pond. This stretch of trail is roughly about 0.85 miles and in my opinion seemed to be the most technical and unrunnable stretch of the course. After that you hop onto section 15 of the NET for about 1.52 miles. The course wraps up by following the orange/blue Ragged Mountain Preserve trail for the last 0.68 miles. Now I know what you’re probably thinking, “That equals a total of 3.83 miles! You said it was a 5k loop!” Let me explain. These distances are based on the trail map on the Ultrasignup registration page. The NET trail map itinerary page confirms the distances of the yellow/blue and orange/blue trails, but the course only uses short portions of the other two trails so their distances can not be confirmed there. My gps data was pretty close to what the RD had said, that it is a 5kish loop so rather than going round in circles indefinitely (pun intended) over this topic, I’ll leave the discussion of distances there. 

Map from the Run Ragged registration page.

First things first, let’s get the obvious on the table. A last person standing event is nothing like a normal race. In fact, after running this one as my first I even question calling it a race at all. I first became interested in the format when I listened Billy Yang’s interview of Guillaume Calmettes following his win at the 2017 Big Backyard Ultra. Then after following Courtney and Johan’s epic battle in 2018 I felt I needed some of that in my life. I applied for the 2019 Big Backyard Ultra and so did many other more qualified ultrarunners. I was disappointed to not even make the waitlist, but thankfully many last person standing events starting popping up all over. I figured that if I ever want to be selected to run at the Big Backyard Ultra inTN, the best way to do it is to earn a spot there by building my resume. So I jumped into the most local last person standing event I could find, Run Ragged with every intention of being the last person standing. I know I’m not the most talented runner out there and I don’t follow a strict training plan or specific diet. But I can be extremely rigid and single minded once I have my mind set to something and I hate the idea of giving up or quitting. The way I saw it, these qualities may give me a distinct advantage over far more talented and better trained runners than myself so why not just go all in?

Another finish to an early lap.

The start of the race was strange. The 5k loop was easy to do within the allotted hour at a relaxed pace even with the technical single track and the elevation change. I didn’t push myself to get it done faster than I had to and was getting it done comfortably in about 45-50 minutes during all of the daylight hours. My strategy was to do as little damage to my body as possible early on so I could last as long as possible. This meant not exerting myself if it wasn’t necessary. It meant being careful of foot placement with every step to minimize impact and avoid any unnecessary damage to my feet to curtail foot pain in the later stages. With this strategy in my head, my mind was on the long game. Mentally I was already wondering if this would go into a second overnight run and was telling myself to be ready for it if it did. With the 10 minutes or so that I had between laps I spent my time taking selfies, refueling, and rehydrating. I ate a mix of real food (whatever was available at the aid station: Doritos, pizza, rice soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grilled cheeses, oranges, etc.) and Science In Sport isotonic gels. For hydration, I mainly drank the Skratch that was provided at the aid station, but I also brought some iced coffees and coconut water to treat myself to a little variety of refreshments.

One of the earlier starts when it was done to just three.

I felt this early strategy served me well, but it was hard to reel myself in. A few laps I did run a bit faster, but when I got back and spent more time in my chair I didn’t like waiting around to go back out. So I decided then that I would move slowly and consistently rather than race around just to wait to race again. The race format was messing with me even early. It felt like a super mellow group run for the first 10 hours or so. You’d go out, run comfortably with a few people chatting it up then sit down and refresh for a few minutes before doing it all again. Often, it would be with an entirely new group or you’d have one or two new additions to your group. Rarely did I find myself alone or stressed before the sunset. Yet that overall mellow and carefree facade was just a cover that this relentless monster of a race format uses to lull you in to a serene mindset that will likely be your demise as it continues and ultimately reveals itself as the cruel beast it is. As a cynic, I knew this and never trusted this race format for what it appeared to be near the start. I checked my watch more often during this race than any other race I’ve ever run (other than the 2017 Batona 50 where my watch crapped out on me). I decided early that I would not get sucked into its false sense of security.

The "Three Amigos", me with my bananas.

And that’s basically how day one went, from 9 AM until sundown. The only other stand out moment I feel I should mention happened during one of the midday starts. As everyone was heading out after the whistle blew we were passing by a family that had been out for a trail walk and stuck around to watch the start of a “race”. A young rather perplexed looking girl in the family watched all the runners shuffle by, many with either an Icee pop or slice of pizza in their hands. “This is a race?!” she exclaimed in a baffled tone as we passed. That single phrase and how she said it had me laughing for a good part of the next lap.

Heading out again.

Then it became dusk, headlamps came out, and soon after we were into the night running portion of this competition. My pace and strategy didn’t really change much over night. I was kinda looking forward to the night portion of the race because I hadn’t run through the night since my last 100 miler (Mines of Spain) back in October. There’s something about running through the night on trails with nothing but your headlamp to light your way that I love. I love how it is a release from all of my normal day to day worries. When I’m trail running through the night all that matters is forward motion and getting to where I’m going. My entire universe reaches only as far as the light from my headlamp. The other reason that I was looking forward to the night was because I assumed that’s when more runners would start dropping and I’d be able to edge closer to a win. This turned out to be true and I found myself alone on the trail more and more often as the night went on.

The aid station at the start of the event.

For the first mile on one lap overnight I decided I would keep pace with the dwindling lead pack as they went out from the start. After that mile, I said to myself “No more of that. My strategy seems to be serving me well, why change it now?” Not that I knew if my strategy was better, but I wanted to find out how long I could last without risking blowing myself up. The only other highlight from overnight that I want to point out was the volunteer that was stationed as the overlook cliff guard from about 8 PM to 4 AM. This dude was full of energy and had Coke and Mountain Dew shots lined up for us every time we passed. He had a cowbell to ring leading up to his station and a cymbal to hit as you were exiting. He was an aid station hype man and just what ultrarunners need during those low points at the wee hours of the morning. He even hyped up a midnight drink special he had planned for us. It turned out to be apple cider vinegar with a sprinkle of cayenne pepper, I think? It doesn’t sound good, but it was oddly refreshing at the time.

Preparing to head out again.

After 52.7 miles and 17 hours we were down to four runners by the early hours of the morning. As daylight broke I realized how many runners we had lost overnight and how few runners remained. Then three laps later after the sun had risen we lost one more. It was now down to the final three. The three of us would continue to battle mentally and physically with ourselves and with one another for nearly another 50k before anyone finally gave in. During those nine laps the three of us all went out together. I can’t speak for where the other two were mentally, but I was feeling isolated for a good part of those laps. The other two runners were more local, had a girlfriend/wife with them (at some point), and seemed to at least be running friends with some of the volunteers. I went solo to this race and it was my first race in CT so I was meeting all of these people for the first time. In my mind at the time that seemed like a huge advantage for the other two runners. Especially when a volunteer started reading Facebook posts from their trail running group rooting for the two of them. It was hard not to feel like an outsider in that moment. But a few people that I had just met less than 24 hours earlier stepped up and gave me encouragement. One person in particular who I had only chatted with online a few times previously went out of their way after their final lap to let me know they were betting on me to win this thing. It may have not seemed like much to that person at the time, but at some of my lowest, loneliest moments it helped keep me going.

Brushing my teeth has never felt better.

My absolute lowest point of the race was the 25th lap. After 24 hours of running without sleep and not having a finish line in sight, it all started to catch up with me. The other two guys were both consistently finishing their laps faster than me and had more time to regroup between laps where as my pace had slowed and I was typically coming in with about five minutes to spare. Mentally it was wearing on me and I began to think it was only a matter of time until I didn’t make a cut off. Before the one mile mark of that lap I almost turned around and walked back to the start to quit. But I didn’t. I figured I’m almost a mile out, I might as well finish this lap before I quit. As I passed the new cliff guard volunteer I announced that this would likely be my last lap. She tried to encourage me, but I didn’t pay it much attention. I decided to call my wife to tell her I was ready to take my first DNF. After a short conversation with her I agreed to finish this lap and to keep finishing laps until I got timed out. Talking to her and my two sons lit a bit of a fire in me for the remainder of that lap and I moved well until I got back to the restart. Then it was mostly lows again. At one point I actually sat down on a log that was across the trail and told myself that if I sat there long enough I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time and I would be able to quit without saying I quit. But I got off of that log and ran it in before the cut off. Some of this mental anguish may have been due to nutrition as none of the aid station food was sounding good anymore and I hadn’t eaten much real food since the soup in the early hours of the morning. Thankfully I guess I started to recognize this and fixed it by devouring bananas, leaving every start with a banana in my hand and sometimes with one in my water bottle pocket as well.

And again...

At every break between laps I would try to size up the other two guys. They were both getting more recovery time between laps and neither were showing any signs of quitting as hard as I looked for them. Which is why it was so unexpected when one of them (Joseph Nuara) finally threw in the towel after 29 hours and 89.9 miles. It nearly brought me to tears when he said he was done, but once I started running the next lap it gave me a spark. It was now down to two. As we headed out for or first lap as the final two I told the other runner (Matt Pedersen) that however this thing ends, it’s been real. I wasn’t sure if we were playing mind games with one another or just chatting anymore, but Matt and I were talking about this race continuing into another night and whether we would be able to continue to do the loop in under an hour after dark. I wanted to show him it wouldn’t be a problem for me so I picked up the pace on that lap and came in with over 10 minutes to spare. It began to rain again as we went back out for our next lap and then it rained heavier. I continued my faster pace wanting to convince him that the last faster lap wasn’t just a fluke. Surprisingly, he slowed way down for this lap and I finished before him for the first time. I was convinced he did it just to mess with my head and was going to come in just a minute or two before the cut off to make me think it was nearly over when it wasn’t.

An early photo of the overlook at Lower Heart Pond.

He came in with about eight minutes to spare then sat down in his chair like normal. I was going through my normal routine of drinking water and taking in calories when Matt came over from his chair and said the words "take your victory lap". Without thinking, I immediately got up and gave him a hug. I could try to express the emotions I felt right then in my own words, but I believe Cantrell said it best already: “A lot of people decry competition as a negative thing. It’s not. You come to love your competitors because you’ve been through this hell together. You don’t want your competitors to quit, but you need them to quit. These things are going on in your head at the same time. That’s a little bit evil. A total mindfuck, runners say.” The relief and strangely the disappointment when I finally knew there was an end in sight was a surprisingly emotional experience and overwhelming; I couldn't hold back tears and had to wipe my eyes a few times and recompose myself before heading out for my final lap. A few minutes later when Matt counted me down to go out for my final lap I was all smiles. I recall excitedly telling everyone how I was finally going to run this course. Knowing that the finish line was there gave me a burst of energy that I had no idea was still available to me. That last lap (39 min.) was my fastest of the 32 laps (99.2 miles) that I ran during the entire event.

This was the start of the first lap with only two left, just after Joe counted us down and sent us on our way.

I’ve probably gone on longer than I should have already for this race report, but I like to close all of my race reports with some kind of take home message or a lesson learned. Here are the words I wrote just before 6 AM Monday morning after the race when I arrived home with only four hours of sleep since the finish. After rereading this post, I still feel like this sums the event up pretty well.

“After a four hour drive broken up by a four hour nap in the car at a rest area parking lot on the garden state parkway all following a 32ish hour "running" competition, I brought this baby home. A beautifully crafted momento of an event that will be hard to recap into words. But now, while they are fresh and raw I have the main takeaways from this race: 1 - it was the first race that I have ever had to deal with the pressure of chasing cut offs, which is a completely different feeling than failing to meet your self imposed time goals; 2 - it was the first race during which I seriously contemplated dropping for extended periods and was on the verge of dropping on several occasions; 3 - it was the first race that has ever brought me to tears. I was close to tears when Joe dropped, but the relief when Matt said the words "take your victory lap" and I finally knew there was an end in sight was overwhelming and I couldn't hold them back. So many thanks to the RDs, race organizers, the CT Trailmixers, emergency personnel, and all the volunteers that made this an amazing experience for so many. All of us runners are in your debt. Now it is time for a long overdue shower beer!”

A beautiful award. 

Scott Snell
June 22, 2019

2018 Mines of Spain 100 Mile Footrace

Ser·en·dip·i·ty
     noun: serendipity; plural noun: serendipities
     1. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way

A view from above the old quarry, hard to believe it's in IA.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

Serendipity. That was the word that repeated through my mind as I slogged through nearly waist deep, chilly water with only my headlamp to light the way. All the while telling myself excitedly and with some degree of disbelief “this is what I do for fun!” Did I actually mean it or was I trying to convince myself that this was still fun? Regardless, that is where I found myself and I intended to make the best of it. The path that led to me running the inaugural Mines of Spain 100 mile foot race in Dubuque, Iowa was strewn with many chance occurrences. Although these events all ultimately played a role in leading me to a very positive outcome of having a great time running a really cool race, several (one in particular) of those chance occurrences felt like huge negatives in the moment that I experienced them. That one in particular that I had trouble finding any positive about was the cancellation of the 2018 Eastern States 100. At the time the news broke and for weeks after I was pretty bummed about it. However, without that event being cancelled I would not have been on the search for another 100 mile race to squeeze in before the end of 2018. If Eastern States 100 hadn’t been cancelled, I highly doubt I would have made the trip from NJ to IA to run a 100 mile race. So in that regard, a positive was revealed due to the cancellation of the 2018 Eastern States 100. This was just one event of a much larger series of events that fell into the right set of circumstances and timing that ultimately led to me taking a road trip back home to IA to run a 100 mile race.

The start of the 100k and 100 mile race.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

I could dive deep with this race report and tell you all about my roots and childhood in Iowa, but I’ll save that story for another time. I do have to cover a few details from that era as they are necessary to explain why someone just up and decides to drive halfway across the country to run a 100 mile race. Well, it’s not “THE” starting point, but it’s “A” starting point: I received a wedding invitation from a childhood friend that I met in kindergarten and have stayed in touch with to some degree ever since. My initial reaction was that I would likely not be able to make it. Between work and family life, I just didn’t see a long weekend trip happening in mid October. However, pieces started falling into place without me even realizing. Eastern States was cancelled and I was browsing Ultrasignup regularly to find a replacement 100 miler close to home. Thankfully, my wife was searching on my behalf and was not limiting her search to the Mid-Atlantic region. In fact, she found a 100 mile race that was only about a one hour drive from Davenport, IA (where I grew up and where my parents still live) which is only about a 20 minute drive from where my friend’s wedding was scheduled to take place. That race was the inaugural edition of the Mines of Spain. Even more amazingly, the race was scheduled to start on Friday (October 19th) at 8 AM giving me plenty of time to run a 100 miler and then make it to my friend’s wedding at 3:30 PM on Saturday (October 20th). When I considered the odds of the timing and location of all of these events falling into place so perfectly, I couldn’t resist and pulled the trigger on the Ultrasignup registration page.

One of the small creek crossings.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

The first challenge of this ultramarathon was just getting to the area. When is the last time you made a 15 hour drive with your four and six year old kids? Well, that’s what my wife and I did just couple days before the start of the race. That long in the car is challenging no matter what and it’s even more challenging with kids in tow so we decided to make the drive overnight. We piled in the car Tuesday evening and drove straight through stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. The kids fell asleep in NJ and woke up in IL to finish the drive into IA. It was tough, but in many ways it was better than breaking up the drive into a two day trip with the kids awake for the majority of it. My main concern was that I would be a bit sleep deprived to start when going into the early morning hours of the race making them a bit harder to deal with.

On the Horseshoe Bluff Trail running through the bottom of the old quarry.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

The Mines of Spain course isn’t strictly a loop or out and back course. I would call it a hybrid of sorts with a stronger emphasis on the out and back sections. It is a 20 mile route with a few smaller loops mixed into out and back sections with three aid stations in addition to the start/finish area aid station. The way the course is set up allows you to stop at aid station 1 on two occasions: as the first aid station (kinda obvious) and again between AS 2 and AS 3. The stretch between AS 2 and getting back to AS1 is less than two miles, so it’s probably not really necessary to stop again, but it was nice to know there are plenty of opportunities for aid stops on the course. The course starts at Louis Murphy Park and follows a paved path down hill along a power line cut to Julien Dubuque Dr. where you run by the City of Dubuque Water & Resource Recovery Center (there’s a bit of a smell in the air around this area). This makes up about a 1.5 mile stretch after which there is one more short stretch of road running then the rest of the course is on trail. For the initial loop the RD added a very short out and back to run around the Julien Dubuque Monument overlooking the Mississippi. It was less than a quarter mile of extra distance and gave the photographers there a great opportunity to get a very picturesque photo of all the runners. After this there was about a quarter mile of trail with a lot of stairs, some metal, that I made a mental note of how treacherous they would be in the dark. After this a quick road crossing over a bridge before a half mile of trail, a half mile of road, and then a hard left and you’re on the Horseshoe Bluff Trail which in my opinion was one of the most scenic spots on the course and very unique for Iowa.

Photo from my first lap after circling the Julien Dubuque Monument.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

The Horseshoe Bluff Trail starts with a climb then takes you through the old quarry where lead was mined in the late 1700’s when the land was owned by Spain, hence the name of the recreation area and the race. The trail sits at the bottom of jagged rock walls on either side. The rocky outcroppings are tall, it wouldn’t surprise me if they were over 100 feet high in some instances, making you feel pretty miniscule as you follow the relatively narrow path between them. Then you come to a fork in the trail and cross a short (and slick when wet) bridge to begin the lengthiest out and back section of the course. Over the course of this out and back you’ll pass through AS 1, make several small creek crossings (if you’re careful you should be able to keep your feet dry), and pass through forests and prairie grasslands dominated by big bluestem and Indiangrass. At the turnaround there was hole puncher hanging from a tree to mark your bib each time you passed. On the way back you’ll make an additional short out and back to AS 2 before returning back across the bridge and onto some new trail. From there it’s a lollipop section of the course with lots of stairs leading up to AS 3 and lots of stairs coming back down. A short out and back part of this lollipop section happened to be a bit flooded a little above ankle deep during the race for what I estimated to be a stretch of about 200 feet (I counted about 70 paces). There was no chance of keeping your feet dry here. And shortly after your return pass through this wet section you were treated to the most flooded section of the course. This section of the trail runs along Catfish Creek, a tributary which feeds into the Mississippi and is affected by water depths of the mighty Mississippi. By chance, water levels of the Mississippi were near record levels leading up to the race and serious flooding had occurred in many towns along the river. The result in regard to the race was a 300 foot or so section of trail with about three foot deep (depending on if you found a hole or not) water to wade through. Survive this and then it’s just a quick hop on the road to cross the flooded creek you just waded through, a little loop with a bit of a climb and a descent, and then you’re on your way back up the metal stairs and on the road past the water treatment facility to return to the start/finish area.

The short, slick bridge mentioned above.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

And that’s the Cliff’s Notes version of the course overview. If it sounds a bit confusing with all the out and backs, forks, and a lollipop that’s because it is. The area is made up of a lot of interconnected trails, many of which are relatively short when a 100 mile run is the goal. Without being familiar with the trail network, I thought the race did a great job of using the trails available to create a fun and more challenging than expected 20 mile course. Course marking was good, but even so I found myself questioning if I had taken the right turn several times during my first lap. This usually was shortly after one of the trail junctions and usually due to my uncertainty of having chosen the right turn, not due to me not seeing any flagging. For that reason, I would highly recommend anyone planning on running this race to study the course map leading up to the race. I know I regretted having not studied it and wished I had made myself more familiar with it ahead of time.

 Left: A small portion of the stairs leading to AS 3. Right: The least helpful volunteer at the race.

(yes, it's a Tonya Harding cardboard stand up)

Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

My primary goal for this race was a time goal. It’s hard to set a goal for a race that is on unfamiliar terrain, so I tend to error on the side of overreaching. This course had an elevation gain of 14,000 feet, so not flat and fast and especially not so by Midwest standards. I decided to shoot for a 20 hour finish, partly because the math would be easy to do during the race: 5 laps X 4 hours/lap = 20 hours. The math was easy, as it would turn out the running would be much harder. For the most part, the course is completely runnable. At least that’s what I thought for the first lap which went really well. Other than the aid station stops I think I ran the entirety of the first lap. I spent the first half of it running and chatting with another guy then he fell back a little after AS 2. This left me alone in front running in first place, an abnormal experience for me. I questioned what the hell I was doing running out front ahead of my target pace, but the course just felt runnable. I even ran the entire paved climb up the powerline cut, one of the most notable elevation gains on the course. Making it back to the start/finish AS was exciting as I arrived in under 3.5 hours, way ahead of my target pace. Even more exciting was that my parents made it there in time to cheer me on and get their first taste of what ultrarunning is. And more exciting on top of that was the fact that the second place runner came into the AS within a minute or two of me and was back out on the course very quickly. I rushed a bit and was back out on lap two hoping that I had a shot of keeping up with him.

It's all smiles for the first 20 easy miles, see completely runnable.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

I passed him on the paved downhill after leaving the aid station and didn’t see him again until AS 1. I had sat down for a second there to relube my right foot that had developed a bit of a hot spot. While doing that the other runner flew through the aid station and didn’t even stop to refill a water bottle. I had my doubts about catching him again at that point, but gave it a shot anyway. The rest of lap two felt pretty much as good as the first, but was a little discouraging because at every out and back on the course I realized that this other runner that I was trying to chase kept on extending the gap between us a little bit farther and farther. I believe that it was by the end of lap three that I wasn’t even seeing him on the returns from the out and backs anymore.

This wasn't the deepest section and the water only got colder as the day went on.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

It was probably around that time at the start/finish AS after lap three that I started sliding into the lowest points of my race experience. It was dark by this point and the water level of the flooded section of the trail near the end of the loop seemed to be getting deeper with every pass. It was certainly getting chillier every time I waded through it. I had finished my third lap just under the 12 hour mark so I was still on pace to meet my time goal, but after 60 miles my body was starting to tire and the pace of my most recent lap was showing it. I conceded the fact to my wife that my time goal was not going to happen today. Then I started complaining about my feet hurting. That’s when she hit me with a shocker that I didn’t believe. She told me I was in fourth place. I didn’t argue, but I didn’t believe her either. No one had passed me, not even 100k runners. I didn’t give it much more thought at the aid station and prepped for my next lap. I put on a heavier thermal three quarters zip down and gloves. I took in some calories, pretty much just simple sugars which had been the majority of my fuel thus far. Then chewed down some candied ginger to hopefully settle my stomach which had begun to feel a little disgruntled. With that I headed out into the night for loop four.

My before (left) and after (right) pics.
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

My fourth loop may have been the toughest for me. I’m pretty sure it was my slowest. Emotionally, it was the lowest I got during the whole event. I wasn’t holding a high importance on placement at this race. But when I was under the impression that I was securely in second while sliding into a low point and at that moment was told I was actually a couple places back from where I thought I was it affected me. More than it ever should have. During much of that fourth loop I replayed all the laps from earlier in the day trying to figure out how two people passed me without my noticing. It didn’t add up. Then I started getting frustrated with the out and backs. The first long out and back to the hole puncher was my nemesis while I ran it. “I only have to run this stupid out and back one more time”, was my mantra for it during that lap. I don’t know why, but that one really got to me. By this point I was finding many parts of the course that were no longer runnable for me. The miles had taken their toll and my mental outlook had changed. I knew it was bad at one point when I caught my toe on a small rock and stumbled but stayed on my feet. Rather than just being happy that I didn’t full on superman and land on my face I stopped to look at the rock that I tripped on and call it a few choice words. When I started running again after that incident and gave it a little thought I was able to laugh at myself over it. Thankfully for that event and seeing the comedy of it in the moment my attitude started to turn around a bit. It was during this fourth passing through the now nippy water that I began recognizing how lucky I was to be in that nearly waist deep water. Locals said that the water level in the creek was higher than they had ever seen it. One more in a long string of chance occurrences that led to me being waist deep in the cold water in the middle of an Iowa night saying to myself “this is what I do for fun!”

Crossing the finish line!
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

That fourth lap took me about 5.5 hours putting me at about 17.5 hours to reach the 80 mile mark with one loop left to finish. Coming into the start/finish aid station this time I felt like I was still in a bit of a funk, but not as bad as I had been for the majority of the fourth lap. I think the lack of sleep was catching up to me as I was feeling more sleepy and overall grogginess than I ever have at any previous 100 mile attempt. But with only 20 miles to go the end was in sight which motivated me and reignited a bit of fight in me. My wife told me again that I was still in fourth place and that another runner had left the AS a few minutes before me. Last time she told me this I didn’t believe her, but I had accepted it at this point. However, like I said I had a bit of fight back in me at this point, I argued with her for just a few sentences about how that wasn’t possible. Not wanting to waste time and just wanting to get this done, I quit arguing pretty quickly and headed out from the aid station to see if I could catch any of these runners that had passed me. In hindsight, that may have been what pushed me to pick up my pace a bit for my last lap. I passed a few runners over the course of that final lap moving better and more determinedly than the previous lap. I wouldn’t find out until the finish though that they were all 100k runners. During this last lap I moved better between aid stations, but spent a bit more time refueling and enjoying the mental boost from the volunteers there. And the volunteers at these aid stations were stellar. Unbeknownst to me at the time, but I actually spent a bit of time with the legendary Ann Trason at my final aid station stop. I found out later that she was even at the race when the race photos were posted. To think, I spent my last aid station stop with Ann Trason debating whether or not to take a shot of Fireball before heading to the finish. If I had known who I was with at the time I’m sure I probably would have had some other questions, but it was a very fun aid station stop with some laughs regardless. And yes, in the end I did take the Fireball shot before heading out for the last stretch to the finish.

My first time to ever literally occupy a podium spot after a race!
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

The smell of a water treatment facility never smelt so sweet as it did during that final pass by it when I knew I was within a mile of the finish line. I happily returned to the finish line for the last time to be pleasantly surprised that my wife and kids were all awake and there waiting to cheer for me as I made my way across the finish line. Nothing in my experience will give you a greater boost of energy than having your kids cheer for you at the finish of a 100 miler. At that moment if you asked me I would have told you I could run another hundred. The RD, Joshua Sun, and a group of super energetic and cheerful volunteers were all waiting as well to congratulate me on the finish. Shortly after coming in the photographer asked to get my after pic as they were taking before and after pics for all the runners. She then told me to make sure I get my buckle and hardware from Josh. He was right there handing me the biggest buckle I’ve received for any race and the only one in the shape of the state of Iowa. He then proceeded to hand me a second place finisher award. A bit confused I questioned why I was receiving it. He went on to tell me that I had been in second place pretty much the whole race, ever since the first lap. I was pleasantly surprised by this and then realized that all the runners I had passed during the last lap were 100k runners. It turns out that my wife was getting tracking information off of some live updates and apparently the information was incorrect. Whether it helped or hurt my overall time being fed that information, I can’t know. What I do know is that it definitely

I got chilly quickly after the finish. And the sun surprised me,
but damn that was some good hot chocolate!
Photo Credit:  Mile 90 Photography

brought me down emotionally for that fourth lap, but it got me to push harder for the final lap. Regardless, it made those last two laps much more interesting than they would have been otherwise and provided a decent amount of laughs when I recounted the story after receiving the second place finisher award. And in the end, even though I missed my time goal, I was happy with my official finish time of 22:38:10, good enough for second overall.




Scott Snell
November 10, 2018

I made it to my buddy's wedding with my lovely wife and was even able to dance, albeit a little awkwardly. 

2017 Tesla Hertz 100 Miler

"The pessimist complains about the wind;

The optimist expects it to change;

And the realist adjusts the sails."

--William Arthur Ward

-Author's Note - February 13, 2018 - In the interest of  full disclosure I feel it is necessary to inform the reader that at the time this report was written I was not selected for nor even aware of Happily Running's Ambassador program. I was not confirmed as an ambassador for Happily Running until January of 2018. - 

I’ve heard that to find your limits you must be willing to fail. That was my goal with this race:  to find my limit by setting a goal that I felt was beyond my limits, but that may be possible on my best day with all else being perfect. With this thought in mind and this thinking, I looked at the Tesla Hertz trail series and the course record for the 100 mile distance, 19:22:08 set in 2014. Considering my previous performances at the 100 mile distance (two races:  TARC 100 and Eastern States 100) I decided that a sub 19 hour 100 miler and a new course record was a fitting goal. This wasn’t just shooting for a 100 mile pr for me, but improving it by over 3 hours. Looking at the difficulty of the previous 100 milers I had run this goal didn’t seem ridiculous to me, but still somewhat lofty and would require me to push myself to my limit or fail. At times during the race I thought I would reach it, but gradually it began to slip out of reach and ultimately I fell short and failed. However, with that failure I reached my overall goal of pushing myself to my limit and failing which was satisfying and confirmed that my goal was exactly where I had intended it to be:  achievable, but just slightly out of reach.

The Tesla Hertz Trail Series is a younger multi distance race with the first running of it in 2013. Managed by the Happily Running race company, the Tesla Hertz series offers 10 mile, 50k, 50 mile, 100k, and 100 mile distance options on a relatively flat trail loop of just over 10 miles. It takes place at the Rocky Point State Pine Barrens Preserve in Long Island, NY. The course is entirely single track trail with a short (about 1 mile) out and back to the mid loop aid station right around the halfway point of the course. The course has a few short hills, but is for the most part flat with somewhere around 240 feet of gain per 10 mile lap according to my Garmin data. The course isn’t technical. There are some roots and rocks as you would expect on a trail, but entirely runnable. However, the one aspect of technicality that this data doesn’t show is all of the twists and turns on the course. Very little of the course is a long, straight runnable stretch where you can just get into a rhythm and feel the flow of the trail. It is almost constantly twisting and forcing you to lean into turns to maintain a pace and stressing your hips.

Prior to registering, I had almost no intention of running another 100 miler in 2017 after Eastern States. I have to admit that one of the strongest motivators for me to register was the post race blues I faced after finishing Eastern States and the PA Triple Crown Series. That series had been a goal for me for nearly two years and as psyched as I was when it was achieved, I felt a bit empty and lost when it was over. I found myself browsing ultrasignup looking for nearby 100 milers to fill the void. Shooting for a PR at the distance and a course record at Tesla Hertz seemed to fill that void perfectly so I went for it.

Just before the 6 AM start. Photo Credit:  Vinny Cappadora (http://happilyrunning.com/)

Training for Tesla Hertz was much different than my lead up to my previous two 100 milers. The short time period (about 7 weeks) between Eastern States until Tesla Hertz just didn’t allow it. I had some recovery time after Eastern States before really hitting training hard again which only allowed for a few long training runs, the longest of which was 26 miles. I used a different approach and made my training sessions harder rather than focusing on time or distance hoping it would pay off. This new training approach made me a bit apprehensive leading up to Tesla Hertz, but I felt it was the best approach I could use with the time I was allowed. On top of this, about a week before the race I began feeling a bit of a cold coming on. I had some congestion, a drippy nose, and the fog that comes with a head cold. I almost, with the advice of my wife, decided to call it off and not even make this attempt that I had planned. However, about two days out and on the verge of canceling my hotel reservations, I realized I had missed the deadline to cancel the reservation without charges. I figured “what the hell, might as well show up and see what happens”. With that mindset, I made the drive with my family to the hotel in Long Island, NY and tried to prepare myself mentally for what laid ahead.  

Waking up for the morning of the race, I felt like I was over the worst of my cold. There was still some remnant congestion and headache, but I did my best to minimize my thinking of how it would impact my performance. I ate some leftover spaghetti and got prepped to run. After arriving at the race start I got my bib and schwag shirt then awaited the start. After a short pre race speech and an inspiring quote from the race director (Vinny Capp) we were off following the glow sticks that marked the start of the course. It was a small race with only about 25 runners starting the 100 miler and I found myself going out in front to meet the pace (about 11 minute miles) needed to meet my intended goal. A short time later, maybe after 2-3 miles, another runner flew up behind me and passed quickly. I guessed he was probably doing around 9 minute miles. I decided to pick up my pace a bit to see if I could at least keep his light in sight. I was doing around a 9:30 per mile pace and he was still pulling away. I wasn’t willing to push any harder so early in the race and risk destroying my race plan so I let the other runner pull out of sight. I saw him again when he was on his way back from the out and back and I was on my way out. At that point he was less than a half mile ahead of me so I figured I would aim to maintain the pace and see what happened over the next 9 laps. A distance of over 90 miles is more than I am willing to chase anyone or be chased by someone.

Here's the inspiring quote from the pre race speech.
Photo Credit:  Vinny Cappadora (http://happilyrunning.com/) 

I hit the first aid station, refilled my water bottle, ate a gel and took one to eat on the trail. This was my nutrition plan for the early laps of the race:  a gel at each aid station and one between each aid station. This would give me 400 calories per lap in addition to whatever calories I was getting from the Skratch that was provided as the electrolyte hydration at the aid stations. This plan would give me over 200 calories an hour if I followed my intended pace for the race. It went well and I felt good for the first 3 laps and it showed in my pace which was way faster than I had intended. Then my stomach started to feel a bit queasy on me. I chalk this up to a few reasons. First, the day was getting warmer, unseasonably warm for October. Second, I was pushing a pace a bit faster than I had intended to hit my goal. I had finished my first 3 laps in under 5 hours, putting me on a pace to finish in under 17 hours. Additionally, this meant I was flooding my stomach with more sugar from the gels than I had intended. Third, I didn’t eat as much solid food before the race as I probably should have. And fourth, I still wasn’t at 100% after a week of battling a cold. All these factors probably contributed to the upset stomach I was experiencing so I did my best to adjust. I eased off the pace a bit and forced myself to eat the least sugary food available at the aid stations, potatoes.

The worst of my stomach issues was during the fourth lap. Additionally, it was also during this lap that the mental challenge of repeating a looped course started to bother me. By this point I had seen half the course in the dark and the entire course in the light twice. I tried to comfort myself by thinking about how the course will look slightly different as the light and shadows change throughout the day. Also, by thinking about how I would be able to focus on different aspects of the trail on the multiple loops. Neither of those two strategies worked well. The best strategy I found for me was to reward myself with something at every completion of a lap. Since the start/finish area also acted as the second aid station on the course, I had my drop bag there and some treats in it. During the third lap, I willed myself on by thinking about how great it was going to be to kick my shirt off at the aid station and run through the rest of the heat of the day shirtless. During the fourth lap it was drinking a bottle of vanilla iced coffee out of the cooler I had next to my drop bag. Then I gave myself a bonus treat by dipping my hat in the icy cooler water before heading back out. My proverbial carrot on the string for the fifth lap was an ice cold V-8 fruit juice energy drink and another dip of my hat in the cooler. The incentive I used to push myself during the sixth lap I had planned before the race, before I even knew I would be using this quid pro quo mental strategy to get over the challenge of the looped course. This piece of encouragement was exchanging my hydration belt for my hydration vest, which had my mp3 player in one of its pockets.

So refreshing after 40 Miles of trail running! Plus caffeine to keep you alert through the night! 

This would be my first time running with music during a race. For a period of about 3-4 months I ran with music during training runs pretty frequently. This was after being an avid runner for about five years who never ran wearing headphones. I liked certain aspects of it:  the distraction and entertainment, the way it influenced my mood, and especially the way it felt like if the right song came on I would get an immediate boost of energy. However, it had its downsides as well. One being the distraction it provided. When I run I like to think that I become more aware of my surroundings and more aware of myself, mind and body. The music seemed to distract me from the world around me as well as my introspective thoughts. Also, probably my most favorite aspect of running is the simplicity of it. Running with music required me to make sure my mp3 player was charged prior to running, either carry the mp3 player or wear some type of carrier, adjust the headphone cables, skip a track if I wasn’t in the mood for it when it came on, and sometimes adjust the volume during the run. It got to the point where it felt like it was more of a nuisance than a benefit. So now, it is a very rare occasion that I will run with music. Even with all those downsides I listed, I was excited to run with some music during this race because I had never raced with music before. Also, I was interested to see if the music that seemed to give me such a boost during shorter runs would have the same effect when I’m exhausted and 70 some miles into a 100 miler. Not to mention, I had invested a lot of time into putting together what I felt was a pretty kick ass running playlist. (https://open.spotify.com/user/1217893411/playlist/6Vwxr1WIUqavHvRpFWMSaY)

https://open.spotify.com/user/1217893411/playlist/6Vwxr1WIUqavHvRpFWMSaY

With my vest on stocked with music, I waited until I had passed the aid station and halfway point of my seventh lap before putting my earbuds in and starting the seven hour playlist. The music definitely did make an impact. The Hatebreed songs and Mudvayne’s “Determined” motivated me to push my already tired legs beyond the exhaustion and pain that comes with 70 some some miles of flat and curvy trails. I got emotional and thought about my family and my wife and how integral she was in allowing me to run this race when Chicago’s “You’re The Inspiration” played. It lifted my spirits at times and I found myself running through the woods in the dark laughing and singing along to Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up”. I did the best club dancing I could do while trail running in the dark when the Marshmello songs were playing. However my favorite and what I found most motivating to run with were the Eminem tracks. Running with music felt like a huge plus for me during this race. I think they made the last 3.5 laps far more enjoyable than they would have been otherwise.

With seven laps complete, I was just under 13 hours into the race putting me right at target pace for a 19 hour finish if I could just maintain a pace of two hours per lap for the last three laps. However, by this point hitting that 11 minute per mile pace was a struggle. I had started mixing in some walking intervals to lessen the pain resulting from the constant impact of running on flat terrain. My body wasn’t prepared to deal with that kind of pain following Eastern States where so much of the course is spent climbing which is physically draining as well, but is nowhere near the same effect as the constant impact of the repeated footfalls of running a flat course. With this run/walk strategy, sub 12 minute miles felt like success. I wasn’t willing and probably wasn’t capable of it at the time to do the math to determine if this pace would be enough to get me to the finish within that 19 hour mark. I continued this strategy until near the end of my eighth lap when I caught up to a runner with a set of flashlights that looked familiar. The only runner that had passed me all day was the other 100 mile runner who passed me during that first lap. He also had been using what appeared to be a pair of flashlights. According to my exhausted brain, this had to be that same runner which would mean that I had finally caught up to him and was about to be in first place. I passed him and decided I would push myself without any walking intervals the remainder of the lap to the start/finish aid station to create a gap between us. I rushed through the aid station constantly looking back at the trail for any lights. I figured if I got out of the aid station before he got there it would lessen his will to chase after me. I continued to push for the ninth lap with my goal being to get through the out and back without him seeing me. I pulled this off and thought to myself that I now had at least about a mile gap on him. When he got there and realized the gap between us he certainly wouldn’t want to chase me for the last 15 miles.

The finish line after dark.
Photo Credit:  Vinny Cappadora (http://happilyrunning.com/) 

Even with what felt like pushing myself to the limit while running scared my eighth and ninth laps were both still about 2 hours and 10 minutes each which put me just a little over my 19 hour finish goal. I had told myself that I would push for the last lap if I needed to meet that goal, but the increased effort during the last two laps had taken a lot out of me. I tried but just didn’t have what it took to increase my pace for the last lap. At the final aid station during that last lap I knew my 19 hour goal was beyond reach. I rewarded myself for my effort and prematurely celebrated a bit by doing what I had been tempted to do upon every passing of this aid station that is named the “Whiskey Girl” aid station and took a shot with the lone remaining volunteer. The green label Evan Williams was delicious and went down surprisingly smooth after what I had put my stomach through for the last 18 hours. After the shot and a fist bump I was off to wrap up the last five miles til the finish. My legs were a bit wobbly before it, but the shot made the wobbles feel more fluid and numbed the pain a bit. I happily continued on until about three miles from the finish when I caught sight of a light in the distance behind me. I panicked. “He caught me” my mind screamed. I pushed hard trying to not let the light get closer, but every time I let up the light appeared again. This continued until I crossed the finish line physically and mentally drained with an official finishing time of 19:41:33.

Some pretty sweet schwag!
Photo Credit:  Nichole Cappadora (http://happilyrunning.com/) 

It wasn’t until after having a seat and chatting with the race director a bit that I realized the runner I had been chasing and running scared from for the last three laps was a ghost. The first place finisher had finished an hour ahead of me. That runner I had passed with the same lights as the runner that had passed me so long ago was either running a different distance race or was a 100 mile runner that I was lapping. Either way, it had no effect on where I placed at the finish. Regardless, it was great motivation for me to push myself for those last three laps. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t disappoint me, even if winning the race wasn’t my goal. The beauty of it is that it helped me to achieve my primary goals. It forced me to push myself when I thought I had nothing left. The lofty goal that I had set was beyond my reach, but I never gave up and gave it my all to grasp it even as it slipped out of reach during those last thirty miles. The Tesla Hertz 100 cured my post race blues and helped me prove to myself what I am currently capable of at the 100 mile distance.

Scott Snell

October 13, 2017