2017 Eastern States 100

2017 Eastern States 100

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear."

- Mark Twain

I’m not going to lie. I was scared of facing the Eastern States 100 course. It was less than a year ago that I ran my first 100 miler (TARC 100) for the primary purpose of overcoming my fear of the 100 mile distance in order to begin working on my goal of completing the 2017 Pennsylvania Triple Crown Series with some semblance of confidence. That first 100 miler went well, far better than I had hoped it would. I had the confidence from my first 100 miler going damn near perfectly driving me up until Worlds End 100k (the second race of the three race series) where things got a little rough. At a low point during that 100k I began to question my resolve to finish the series. After the race, I tried my best to focus on the positives that came out of the experience:  overcoming rough patches during a long race, having a realistic nutrition plan, and realizing in the moment that highs and lows are both temporary. Try as I might to concentrate on the positives, during the entire training period between Worlds End and Eastern States I couldn’t quite manage to get that little pessimistic voice in my head to completely shut up. Honestly though, that annoying little voice had a convincing argument. The argument was something along the lines of “You may have done a hundred miler, but you’ve never done a tough hundred miler with 20,000 feet of elevation gain and technical trails like Eastern States. Hell, Worlds End 100k nearly broke you with 12,000 feet of gain. Not to mention, you’ve only done one 100 miler that just happened to go well. How do you know that wasn’t just a fluke?” Needless to say, it wasn’t the most enjoyable training block I’ve ever submitted myself to. However, in a way that voice was more motivating than any kind of positive reinforcement could be. The motivation to prove it wrong drove me to train for Eastern States and run the course as best I could even if I wasn’t sure I would make it to the finish.

Arriving at the bib and packet pick up at Little Pine State Park the evening before the race made my head start to spin. It all kind of felt surreal in a way. It wasn’t the nervous excitement that I’ve felt before other races. It felt like I was on the precipice of completing a major journey. The thought had crossed my mind to attempt the PA Triple Crown Series in 2016. However, I did not have the qualifying races required to register for Eastern States until after all the spots had been filled. So, I spent 2016 preparing. Now I was only a few hours and 102.9 miles away from completing the goal I had set for myself nearly two years ago. It was all a bit overwhelming. Thankfully, my wife and two boys had made the trip with me to camp for the weekend while I ran. That helped me bring it all back into perspective and realize that whatever importance or value I had attached to this goal was just that:  the value I assigned to it. No matter how the race went; I would still be the same dad and husband to them, I would still go back to the same job next week, and most people in my daily life would have no clue about it. Maybe I was using this thinking as a bit of a mental strategy and to keep my head from spinning. Based on training runs and past races, I’ve found a little apathy can do wonders.

Just after bib pick up at the start/finish area. 

After setting up our tent and letting the boys play in the water for a bit we settled down for the night. I went through my gear and made sure everything was ready for the morning. Then I went through the schwag bag to be seriously impressed with how much quality stuff was in it. Let’s start with the bag itself. It was an Osprey brand pack that looks like it is water resistant and perfect for doing some fastpacking adventures. Inside was a pair of wool socks, a running hat, and running shirt. It was far more than I expected for schwag, but then again Eastern States pretty much goes above and beyond expectations in every department.

Schwag! Minus the socks.

It felt like my alarm went off early, but even with the 5 AM start time I still managed to get a good six hours of sleep. I crawled out of my sleeping bag, threw my clothes and gear on, and said my silent goodbyes to my family before making my way to the starting area. I hopped into the weigh in line and made it through then hopped into the bathroom line and dropped a healthy deuce before heading to the starting line with just a couple minutes to spare. This was a huge mental boost for me. It felt like my body told me it was ready for what lies ahead. The waste was excreted, now it was time to move. The timing was nearly perfect. Shortly after arriving at the starting line, we had the countdown and the race was off with the sound of people cheering, bells ringing, and hoots and hollers. Then a minute later it got extremely quiet and a dichotomy of ultras hit me. The fact that so much energy is felt at the start, finish, and at certain aid stations contrasts so dramatically with the majority of the time running an ultra where (at least in my experience) I am usually alone and for the most part hearing only the wind and my footsteps. It was an interesting thought at the time, and I may have given it more depth than it deserved for the mere fact that my mind needed a distraction away from thinking about what I was about to force my body to endure.

With that distraction on my mind, I jogged along the paved road (which was the majority, if not the only paved section of the course) to the campground before we hit a bottleneck at the trailhead and the start of the single track. It wasn’t long after hitting the single track that we arrived at the first big climb of the course. I took it easy and reminded myself that there was no reason to push hard this early; the course will provide plenty of opportunities to blow your quads up later. Either during or not long after that climb the sun started to rise and my headlamp was no longer necessary. I arrived at the first aid station feeling good and fresh. I filled my Paw Patrol and TMNT bottles, ate a gel and packed one for between aid stations, and grabbed a few bites of food before moving on. I was surprised to see it, but they also had an entire gum section at this aid station. Maybe it was just because I hadn’t brushed my teeth that morning, but gum sounded surprisingly refreshing so I grabbed a piece to chew on as I left.

I made my way along the trail with the mindset of enjoying the day. If I don’t enjoy it, what’s the point? The sights and smells were great and I got into a flow knowing that I would get to see my wife and kids at AS3 (Lower Pine, mile 17.8). Just before AS2 a few runners and myself got to see a black bear that we scared off of the trail, no big deal after working at Shenandoah National Park for a summer. Otherwise, that stretch of the course was uneventful. Arriving at AS3 and seeing my boys rejuvenated and gave me a much greater boost than I was expecting. Their excitement was real and I felt it. I continued my plan of eating some real food and a gel at each aid station and packing a gel to go and continued on.

Lower Pine AS3, Mile 17.8.

Soon after leaving the aid station, the course follows a gravel road up a good stretch of an easy, but sustained climb. Some were hiking it, but I was feeling good and decided to jog this not so steep and non-technical climb. The next event of note did not occur until between AS5 (mile 31.6) and AS6 (mile 38.5). Somewhere during this stretch the rain that was forecasted for the day showed up. It was short lived, but the rain was heavy and soaked everything. I believe it was also during this stretch that I attempted to make a creek crossing without getting my feet wet by balancing across a slick log. I knew it was a bad idea and it ended with me standing in the creek telling myself that. Suffice to say, the rain didn’t soak anything that wasn’t already wet. Soggy, but in good spirits, I rolled into Ritchie Rd (AS6). I ate more there than at previous aid stations making my way from one side of the aid station table to the other. It was there that I had my first perogi of the day. It was delicious and and mashed potato perogies would become my staple for the rest of the day.

Shortly after leaving this aid station the course follows a powerline cut for a gradual climb. It was somewhere at this point that I had to hop off of trail to take care of some business. Once my GI stuff was resolved, this non-technical section felt easy. Other than a few mud puddles due to the earlier heavy downpour, this stretch of the course was cake. In addition, I had the fact that my wife and kids were waiting for me at the next aid station to spur me on. I arrived at AS7, Hyner Run (mile 43.2), in what felt like a flash. I ate a buttload of bacon and watermelon then shared some Swedish Fish with my three year old son. Up to this point I hadn’t given place much thought. I was paying attention to my pace mainly to see if I was going to be keeping my wife waiting at the aid stations for me. The pace and aid station arrival times I had given her were based on a best case, perfect day scenario of a 25 hour finish. Surprisingly, I was surpassing those splits at this point. Looking at past results, I expected a sub 25 hour finish to easily be a top 20 place finish. I was shocked when she told me that I was in 38th place at that point. I wasn’t disappointed, but more excited. My initial thought when I heard that was “a new course record will be set today”.

Hyner Run AS7, Mile 43.2, where I feasted on bacon.

With that somewhat bittersweet news, I continued on to the next aid station which I expected to be a water only aid station. Upon arrival, it was anything but. They had perogies there. I ate my fill and continued on to AS9, Halfway House (mile 54.7), where I saw my wife and boys for the last time before the finish. There was one additional aid station for spectators, but I would arrive there too late for my wife to bring the boys there. She had to take them back to camp and get them to bed. With the sun beginning to set at the time, I said my goodbyes and thanked my wife for being so supportive. The inspiration that kids bring is irrational. I moved on and focused on covering the distance. My goal was to continue to take the course on in sections. At every aid station I would ask how far it was to the next and then focus on making it there. To assist that goal, every aid station had a print out posted of the distance and elevation profile from the current aid station to the next. Mad props to the race director for that.

This strategy worked great for me. I covered miles without thinking about the majority of the remaining distance I had to cover. It wasn’t until AS12 that I got my next surprise. At the Alegrines (mile 62.9) aid station they were recording and posting runners’ places and arrival times. The last I had heard from my wife at the halfway point was that I was in 38th place. At this aid station, while I was casually eating a grilled cheese sandwich, they announced that I was in 16th place! How that happened, I have no clue. It scared me more than it motivated me. But I continued on just hoping that I could at least make it to the finish with a top 20 spot.

I ran on and shortly before reaching the next aid station (Long Branch, mile 75.6) I came upon another runner. It was dark, and it felt like I came upon the light that I had seen in the distance rather quickly. I intended to give my standard kudos to the guy and continue on my way until I was about to pass him. Then I realized how badly he was shivering and when he finally turned his head and made eye contact with me I saw a fear in his eyes. I tried to motivate him letting him know that it was less than a mile to the next aid station. His response was “Yeah, I’ve been telling myself that.” I kicked myself for not carrying the emergency blanket that was included with my hydration vest. When I bought it I thought “emergency blanket? Emergency whistle? When will I ever need these?” I told him I would hurry to reach the next aid station and let them know he was on his way and could use some help. Shortly after I arrived there and informed them of the situation they had a runner on his way with a jacket to assist.

Not carrying emergency equipment is a general mistake. My real first race mistake didn’t come until AS14 (Blackwell, mile 80.3). It was at this point that I had left my one and only drop bag for myself with dry shoes and fresh socks. I had had wet feet since around mile 30 and they didn’t feel that bad. I went off of feel and the philosophy that if your feet feel ok don’t worry about them. I turned away the super helpful volunteer who offered me my drop bag saying that I wouldn’t need it. Later I would regret that. I drank some coffee and ate a piece of pizza then continued on. Shortly after, I jumped over a rattlesnake that was just on the edge of the trail rattling at mel. Then I hit a super technical and super slick rocky descent. Somewhere around this point I realized how bad my feet felt and my second to pinky toe (ring toe?) nail flipped back. It hurt and I told myself that it would make the last 20 miles interesting.

I made it to the next aid station and that is when my head totally messed with me. I was at Sky Top (AS15, mile 84.8) where they provided some of the best care that I had received all day. I got soup with a pierogi in it. They changed my headlamp batteries and gave me spare batteries. I got Vaseline for the chafing under my armpits. But for some reason, I left thinking that I had six miles to the next aid station then four miles to the finish. In reality I had eight miles to the next aid station, then six miles to the final aid station, then four miles to the finish. It was only a difference of eight miles,but it seemed like an infinite distance at the time that I realized the mileage wasn’t adding up after leaving Sky Top. And with that realization my body began to let me know how much everything else was hurting. My feet were soaked and blistered. My armpits and crotch were badly chafed. It had taken me 80 some miles to get there, but I had reached my lowest point of the race. I finally reached the next aid station at Barrens (mile 92.8), but I was in such a funk mentally and my body was hurting so bad that I didn’t want to eat anything. I was sick of gels and I was sick of everything sweet. I forced myself to drink some coke and continued on with my negative mantra of “everything hurts”.

Thankfully, between Barrens and the final aid station the sun came up. This was something that I had been looking forward to. I had never done a race before where I had run all night and I got to see the sunrise. It was motivating to have daylight break and turn my headlamp off. With that bit of motivation, I continued on to the final aid station even though my feet said no. I reached the final aid station (Hackettes, mile 99.1) and passed through quickly eager to reach the finish. Even though it was less than four miles to the finish, it certainly didn’t feel like the home stretch. There was still one more climb to overcome. At the top of that climb, I decided I had to pee. Unfortunately, I put things away a bit too early and leaked a bit in my shorts. I was close to the finish and I didn’t want to show up there looking like I had just pissed myself. I’m blaming my sleep deprived brain and exhausted body for this, but it seemed to me at the time that the best course of action to hide the fact that I peed myself would be to spray some water from my water bottle on my shorts. Soon after, I realized what a mistake this was. My severely chafed inner thighs and testicles were screaming with every step once the were wet again.

At the finish being helped across by my boys!

I continued on to the final and crazy steep descent. It seemed like I could hear cheering from the finish line crowd for several miles. My quads burned and threatened to completely give out as I tried to descend the last stretch with some sense of control. My feet hurt so bad and my quads were so trashed that I was grabbing trees along the trail to help myself brake. Finally, the trail led out to a parking lot where I could see the finish line. I made it to the grassy field and my boys met me shortly before the finish line to run under the blow up arch with me. And there was David Walker (race director) waiting to greet me. He presented me with the finisher’s buckle, which I was most appreciative of. Having now finished two of the races he directs, I can say with confidence that those races were the most orderly and well organized ultras in which I have ever partaken. I can also say that I think he may be a bit of a sadist. At both Worlds End and Eastern States the courses end with a super gnarly and steep descent for your trashed quads to contend with. And at both finish lines he asked me with a huge grin how I liked that final descent. Seriously though, he is an excellent race director and a great guy. From my experience at both races, I watched him stay near the finish line the entire time and congratulate every runner as they finished.

Just after the finish with race director, David Walker.

Having my wife and kids waiting for me at the finish of the toughest race I had ever done which also marked the completion of the PA Triple Crown Series, my primary goal for nearly two years, I thought I may get a bit emotional or teary when it was complete. I mostly just felt relieved that I had hung on for the last 15 miles or so that tested me to finish in tenth place with a time of 27:17:24. I was also super ecstatic about how well the first 85 miles went. This race proved to me that my performance at my first 100 miler wasn’t just a fluke. It got that annoying pessimistic voice to finally shut the hell up. It also reinforced the lesson that I should have learned at Worlds End:  that preventative maintenance of your feet is not an option. Aside from everything that was great about the race and everything that went so well for me, I was also so grateful that this initial family camping trip went so smoothly for my wife while I was out running all night. The kids had a good time outdoors without any YouTube videos or Minecraft, my wife enjoyed having time with them without the distractions, and I got to run a long time and have them waiting for me at the finish. While making the drive back to NJ, we all agreed that it was a trip worth making again. Just the thought of that makes me smile and want to visit Ultrasignup.

Scott Snell

September 20, 2017

2017 Naked Bavarian

A Muddy and Bloody Run With The Naked Bavarian 40 Miler

The 2017 Naked Bavarian 40 miler marked a bit of a milestone in ultrarunning for me. My second crack at the Naked Bavarian 40 miler was my first time to make a second attempt at an ultramarathon course. I’ve always set goals for myself for every ultramarathon, but with the variation in course difficulties and weather conditions my goals have more or less been guesses of what I think I am capable of achieving. This was the first trail race I was attempting where I had solid data on what I was capable of and my goal was to improve on my performance from the previous year. My finishing time from the previous year was 7:13:14 and I believed that if everything went well on race day I could get to the finish in under 7 hours.

 

2016 Finisher Award!

The Naked Bavarian is a young race with 2015 being the inaugural running of it and this year being only the third running of the event. It is advertised and marketed as a low cost, no frills race. I agree with the first part because at 40 miles for $35 (or about $0.88 per mile) it is the most miles I have

2017 Finisher Award!

ever gotten for my money at any event with an entry fee. The second “no frills” part is a bit debatable. While the swag is not overwhelming, I have received a finishers’ award both years I have run it; in 2016 it was a bottle opener and in 2017 it was a mini glass growler. Additionally, the aid stations are frequent (about every 3.5 miles) and well stocked (no gels, but plenty of other standard ultra aid station foods). The Naked Bavarian, along with at least seven other events, is organized and put on by Uberendurancesports  under the guidance of race director Stephen Weiss. I’ve only run three of his events (Naked Bavarian twice and Blues Cruise once, both of which share the same venue and many of the same trails), but all three have left me impressed and wanting to return for another!

 

The 2016 Finisher Award!
 

The Naked Bavarian course is basically a 20 mile lollipop route with the loop at the end of the lollipop being about 7 miles and the beginning and the end of the course being a 6.5 miles out and back. The 20 mile runners do the course once and the 40 mile runners run the entire course twice. It is

Just one beautiful view of the area.

held at The Blue Marsh National Recreation Area which is just northwest of Reading, PA. It really is a beautiful venue for a trail race as many sections of the trail run along the lake edge and cross narrow sections of it at several points. Nearly the entire course is on single track trail with the few exceptions (maybe about a mile worth of the 40 mile course) being instances where you run along a road shoulder to cross a road bridge or connect to another trail. I’ve heard the trails for the course described as “beginning trail runner friendly” in regards to the amount of elevation change and technicality. I’d agree with this description, but they are by no means the easiest trails I’ve run. My Garmin and Strava data reported 3610’ and 3027’ of elevation gain respectively for the 40 mile course. So while the course is not a mountain ultra, it is not a flat course with a couple rolling hills either. In regard to the technicality of the trails, I would say the entirety of the course is runnable with the exception of one steep, rocky climb around the 10 mile mark. The only other item of note I would mention about the trails is the steepness of the cupping on the single track through the open grassy sections. When people say technical I think the most common interpretation is lots of exposed rock and roots, these trails have some of that. After running these trails for the third time, I would add excessive cupping to my list of technical aspects of the trail. It may not sound like much, but when the cupping creates a narrow enough channel with steep enough sides that you have to alter your running form and foot placement it is definitely adding a technical factor.

With a sub 7 hour finish as my one and only goal for the race I was confident I could achieve it with the experience I had gained since the previous year. My running of the 2016 Naked Bavarian 40 miler was the first time I had run over a 50k distance. Since then I had finished a 100 miler and a handful of 50 milers. I had become much better at understanding and anticipating the physical and mental obstacles that arise during ultras. I also understood much better what my body’s nutritional needs were and what kind of calories worked best for me. With this experience and the growing knowledge base, I found that I spent far less time at aid stations with every ultra I ran. Based on this alone, I figured that even if I only matched my running pace at the previous Naked Bavarian I could still bring it to under a 7 hour finish due to increased efficiency at the aid stations. Some people may be scoffing at this and saying “ultras are supposed to be fun, you should enjoy the aid stations and socialize a bit”. To which I reply we all choose to run because we chose to run. The motivation for that choice is yours and yours alone. Some people run to win a race. Some run because their friends run. Some run because their doctor told them to. I can’t simplify my motivation for running to a single reason in this race report, but I can say that my motivation for running this particular race for a second consecutive year was to improve my finishing time by at least 13 minutes and 15 seconds.

Flat Scott ready the night before.

Leading up to the run, everything did not play out as I had hoped. Training went well, but in the month before the race I developed a chest cold and was still feeling some symptoms from it as I readied for the run. I knew I could still achieve my goal even with that setback, it may be just a little less comfortable. It was a cold start for the race with the temperature in the low 20s and the anticipated high was only 35°. In the chilly yet fresh morning air we took off from the start on a mostly overcast and breezy day. I watched the lead pack head out from the start/finish area following a short stretch of road towards the trailhead. Probably less than a half mile later upon reaching the trailhead the leaders were out of sight likely maintaining a sub seven minute per mile pace. I was happy just to have them in sight up til the trailhead as my overall target pace was just over ten minutes per mile. With my target pace in mind, I felt good about the first three miles of singletrack leading to the first short stretch of road shoulder running to the first aid station. Even with some hills, I still managed close to nine minute miles for that first stretch.

After that first aid station, the course returns back to singletrack trail. After a little run through the woods, the trail heads out to some open grassland sections. It was in these sections that the trail cupping was the worst. However, this early in the run it didn’t bother me at all. Even though the lingering chest cold was keeping me from feeling 100%, as I was running I was happy and thankful to be out running on trails away from home that I don’t get to visit on a regular basis. After another three miles or so of single track, the trail turns back out onto a road where you hit the next aid station. This is the point of the course where the lollipop loop starts. From there the course follows the road shoulder across another bridge before turning back onto the singletrack. A few miles later just before the ten mile mark the course hits the largest climb, a gain of about 250’ in about a half mile. I remembered it from last year and pushed through it knowing the toughest part of my first lap was over. I hammered the downhill and was surprised and impressed to find that my time for the mile including the biggest climb was under 12 minutes. This was encouraging for me as I made my way through the remainder of the singletrack leading back to the aid station that marked the end of the lollipop loop. These three and a half miles or so of the course are very runnable being pretty much flat and not at all technical. With the extra motivation as a boost and the easy running terrain, I cranked out some of my fastest miles of the day.

 

Sweet Bibs This Year!

I was feeling great from the climb up until about the 17 mile point. For some reason, I just started feeling exhausted at that point. I had mostly just been drinking Gatorade and eating a few M&Ms at aid stations up to this point. I may have had a bit of Coca-Cola by this point, but I made a note to myself to be sure to drink some at every aid station going forward. I struggled a bit finishing up the last section of my first lap and then headed back out for my second lap feeling somewhat defeated. I was ahead of my target pace, but was hurting bad and feeling spent. I was just hoping to complete my second loop without falling behind my target pace for the day. The temperature had risen a few degrees since the start and the trails that were frozen had thawed for the most part and had become a bit sloppy and slick. This was more intimately impressed upon me a few miles into my second lap when I was coming down a short descent and my left foot flew out from under me. I immediately knew there was no avoiding it and I was going down. I hit the muddy slope and went into a bit of a roll. I bounced back up unharmed and continued on wearing a bit of the trail.

And another beautiful view of the area.

Not too long after my fall, I started noticing some blood in the snot that I was wiping from my nose. This continued for a few miles and I thought it might be a very mild nosebleed. I tried pinching my nostrils for a while to stop it, but no luck. This didn’t help my breathing any either. It was so minor and not getting worse so I soldiered on looking forward to the big climb of the course because I knew that marked the halfway point of the course. After finishing the climb I was excited for the fast, easy miles that followed. Unfortunately, this time through that section they did not seem anywhere near as easy and they were definitely not as fast. I think it was somewhere in this section that I realized that my “nosebleed” wasn’t a nosebleed at all. The edges of my nostrils had just been rubbed raw from my gloves wiping away snot. The little bit of blood seeping from the raw sections was mixing with my snot making my gloves look far bloodier than they were snotty. It was also around this time that I hacked up a monster loogie. As I went to launch it to my side, it had a weak ejection and as the phlegm went airborne it never totally detached from my mouth. The phlegm strand went to the side and floated for a bit until I caught it with my arm and chest. I didn’t care too much at this point (30 some miles in) so I just rubbed it into my muddy jacket with my bloody gloves.

It was during the last ten miles of the run that I probably felt about the crappiest I have ever felt during any run, ultra distances and shorter. Maybe it was because I had been struggling for the last 20 miles or so and during that time I was trying to use the mental trick of bargaining with myself by telling myself how good I’ll feel and what a motivational boost I’ll get knowing I just have to make it back to the start after the halfway point of the second lap. Maybe I had banked on that so much and

promised it to myself so hard that when that boost in motivation never materialized it was far more crushing than if I had just planned on suffering for the remainder of the run. At points, especially in the grassy areas open to the sun, I found myself so tempted to just hop off the trail and lay down and rest for awhile. I really wanted to stop running and just lay down. The grass hummocks looked so comfortable and inviting in the warm sun. I fought the temptations off by thinking about how much more awful I would feel as I was lying there and watching a line of runners that look much fresher than me pass by. Not that I was worried about where I was going to place at the finish, it was just the mental aspect of being passed and how that can affect your motivation to push on. Whether you’re towards the front, in the middle pack, or somewhere at the back, if you already feel like crap watching someone who looks like they’re still on fresh legs pass you and disappear ahead of you on the trail usually doesn’t improve your mental state. At least not for me. Maybe it was because this low surprised me so much that it seemed so bad. I thought this is my second time here; the first time was smooth so this one will be too. Surprise! I got the toughest mental and physical struggle I have ever felt at a race. Another reason this bonk and mental struggle surprised me so much was that I was ahead of my goal pace time the entire run. If I had fallen behind my target pace and my motivation crashed as a result that would be understandable, but that wasn’t the case. I stayed ahead of my target time the entire race; I just felt totally spent doing it. Feeling mentally and physically drained, I willed myself on past the last aid station and to within three miles of the finish.

I finally broke out of the funk I had been in when I could hear the music and smell the food at the start/finish area. I tried to smile for the photographer as I crossed the finish line with a time of 6:54:11. I should have been pumped since I beat my time goal, but as much as I struggled to get through the second half of the race I wasn’t feeling that excited about it. I was just glad it was over

See that smile

and I got through it. Writing the previous paragraph is the deepest I have analyzed the entire experience. As much as it sucked, I am thankful for the experience. It helped reinforce my resolve and determination to not give up even when things aren’t going well. It strengthened my belief that as long as I continue to push myself through hard times, I don’t give up, and I keep making progress towards my goals that they can be achieved. I’ve watched, read, and listened to plenty of videos, race reports, and interviews about terrible bonk stories and mental struggles during ultras. All the while, I wondered why I had never experienced anything as bad as these stories. Well, after two years of ultrarunning and with this most recent ultra experience, I think I can finally relate a bit more with these stories of ultra calamities. Feeling more humbled than I had ever felt at the finish of an ultra, I recovered a bit next to a fire at the finish area. Once my stomach began to feel more settled and my head felt less loopy I grabbed a plate of the post race fare that seems to be the standard at Uberendurancesports events:  German bratswurst with sauerkraut. It tasted like success and it was delicious!

Scott Snell
March 26, 2017

 

2016 Wildcat Ridge Romp

Author’s Note:  This race report was written in January about five months following the event. I’ve done my best to recall the events as accurately as possible. I have made sure to note anywhere there was any uncertainty in my recollection of said events.

The Wildcat Ridge Romp is a multi distance (10 mile, 20 mile, 50k, 50 mile, 100 k) event organized and managed by the NJ Trail Series group. It takes place at the Wildcat Ridge Wildlife Management Area in northern New Jersey typically in mid August when it is nice and warm; I’ll elaborate on the heat for the event this year a little later. All distances for the event are run by repeating a 10 mile loop as many times as necessary to finish a runner’s chosen distance. The course is primarily single track trail with a few short sections of ATV trail, paved road, and fire road mixed in. The trail is pretty technical in my opinion with some semi treacherous rocky sections and enough elevation change to keep it interesting even if it was completely smooth runnable trail. My Garmin data showed a little under 1000’ of elevation gain per loop with 4702’ at the end of the 50 miler. The one creek crossing at around the six mile mark of the loop offered a solid bridge so wet feet due to creek crossings were not an issue. Unfortunately, due to other reasons wet feet would not be avoided altogether.



10 Mile Course Map

Following finishing my first 50 miler (North Face Endurance Challenge at Bear Mountain, NY) recovery went well and faster than expected so I returned to my normal non-training routine of running. It was mid May and I was feeling confident and motivated, but had no other races lined up for the remainder of the year. The North Face 50 miler was intended to be the running pinnacle of the year for me in 2016, but returning to running afterwards left me looking for a new challenge. Since my first attempt at a 50 miler went better than expected, I thought attempting another and improving my time at the same distance would be an achievable goal to work towards. I especially thought it was a doable goal because I wasn’t aiming for a massive improvement. My finishing time at the North Face 50 miler was 9:04:29. I was hoping to improve my 50 miler time to under 9 hours. My thinking was that if I could find a similar 50 miler, shaving five minutes off of my time wouldn’t be that much more incredibly difficult. If I hadn’t had to stop to clear my colon at the NF 50 miler, I would have already been under 9 hours. In my mind, I was literally one poo away from my goal.

I decided on the 50 mile option of the Wildcat Ridge Romp with about two and a half months of time to train. It seemed to be the perfect attempt for me to improve my 50 miler time since it was described as having similar terrain and almost identical elevation gain. The NF 50 course had just under 7000’ of elevation gain according to my Garmin data while the Wildcat Ridge Romp course elevation profile showed 7223’ of elevation gain for the 50 mile course. I followed the same training plan I had for the NF 50 miler which was based off of the Ultraladies 50 mile training plan (http://www.trailrunevents.com/ul/schedule-50m.asp). The training seemed to go just as well in preparation for the Wildcat Ridge Romp as it had for the NF 50 miler. Everything seemed to be going as planned for me to achieve my goal:  similar course difficulty, almost identical training, and a great outlook going into the race. I was extremely confident up until about a week before the race when I started checking the weather reports.

50 Mile Elevation Profile

Hourly weather data

The 2016 Wildcat Ridge Romp took place on August 13th which happened to be a particularly warm day. As I had mentioned earlier, the heat would become a factor especially going into the later part of the day. At 6 AM at the start of the race the temperature was 73.4°F. It would eventually climb to a high of 95°F with a heat index of 109.7°F according to Weather Underground’s historical weather data. Even knowing the heat would play a role in the race, I still felt good about my goal at the start of the day.

I planned to run this race at a steady pace. For me that meant averaging 1 h:48 min. per 10 mile

An example of how some of the ATV trails looked

loop. A friend (I’ll refer to him as RP going forward) of mine had registered for this race as well so we took off at the front of the pack from the start and ran the first loop together. Throughout the entirety of the day, weather was a factor and from the starting line to the actual start of the trail was no exception. It was hot and humid, even at the 6 AM start. While the heat and mugginess this early made things uncomfortable, the absolute worst effect of the weather this early in the day was the amount of dew everything was covered in. The race starts in a small parking lot and then follows less than a quarter mile stretch of grassy area along a road before turning onto a gravel road that takes you to the trail. It was during this short grassy stretch at the start that the dew had the biggest impact, soaking the shoes and socks of all the runners. Once on the trail, the dew continued to keep our shoes and socks wet. Because much of the course follows ATV trails, they are not maintained to the same pristine conditions you may expect for most hiking trails. Sections of the trail stretched through non-forested open areas. Through these sections much of the vegetation on the trail edges was 2-5 feet tall, heavy with dew, and leaning hard onto the path. Running these sections kept me pretty much soaked from the waist down.

The first four miles of the loop to the first aid station were a mix of these sections of wooded trail and

View from the pond edge

open stretches. There were no significant climbs up to this point, just a lot of short climbs and quick descents. At around the three mile mark (not positive about this location) there is what looked to be a great overlook site, but upon our first passing it was too dark to see much. RP and I refilled our water bottles and moved through the first aid station quickly. The first mile after felt about the same as the first four miles with a short stretch where we ran along a pond edge for a nice change of scenery. It was right around the five mile mark where we hit what seemed to me as the most significant and technical climb of the course. Not that it was the longest climb of the course, but probably the steepest and most rocky.



View from overlook

Miles six and seven were a bit more technical than the first five with much more exposed rock sections and a long (about a mile) descent with a couple pretty steep sections that were a little gnarly. The long descent was followed by a long climb of about a mile and a half. This section of trail felt different to me as well as it carved its way through continuous forest passing large boulders and keeping me alert as a few more technical sections required a little rock hopping. At about the six mile mark the course reaches the lowest elevation and crosses a bridge over a small creek. After the creek crossing the course hops onto a stone road that begins climbing alongside the creek. About three quarters of a mile later the road leads you to what appears to be a very aged stone structure. At this point the course leads you to a short climb behind the stone building and out of the woods to a steep climb up a grassy embankment to a paved road. We then followed the road (Split Rock Rd.) across a large dam which held the water supply that was feeding the creek adjacent to the road we had just climbed. Just on the other side of the dam at mile seven was an unmanned water station thankfully. Seeing all that water and having a nearly empty bottle was mentally draining in some way. We filled our bottles quickly, dumped a little water on our heads (we were only about 1:20 from the start, but the heat was already affecting us), and continued our run.

The next couple miles were similar to the early miles of the loop with a mix of wooded and open sections, although I’d say this later section was composed of more open than wooded. At least it felt that way with the sun out as it seemed shade was hard to come by and the sun was already feeling warm during the second half of our first loop. At the 8.5 mile mark the course passed by the mile four aid station again and then followed another rock road for about a mile on a gradual descent until spilling out into a neighborhood on paved roads. After about a quarter mile run on the neighborhood blacktop roads, the course hopped back on the trail for a very short stretch before dumping us back to the initial gravel road that led back to the start/finish area.

We checked into the start/finish area at about 1 hour and 50 minutes, just a couple minutes slow to meet my target time. At this point that time split was a confidence booster because I felt like I hadn’t started pushing myself too hard or nearing that exhaustion line anywhere during the first loop. RP and I filled our bottles with some Gatorade and took in some calories before heading back out. Since the start/finish area was the only fully stocked aid station, I was relying on GoGos applesauce squeeze pouches as my only source of calories between 10 mile loops. Each pouch was 3.2 oz and 60 calories. I ate three during the first loop and took three more before heading back out for loop number two. If all things went perfectly, this may have been a fine nutritional plan:  180 supplemental applesauce calories during each 10 mile, sub 2 hour loop and primary refueling at the completion of each loop at the main aid station. Unfortunately, not everything went perfectly. As the day went on and the heat started to wear on me I began slowing down. This meant longer stretches of energy exertion with fewer calories consumed. Although I wouldn’t say that nutrition was the largest contributing factor to my ailing performance throughout the day, I would say it could have been adding to an already troubled situation.

I headed back out with RP for our second lap with the plan to try to push this lap a little harder than the first. I figured if I was going to meet my goal I didn’t want to have to make up time on my final lap during the hottest part of the day. I realized after a few miles that RP wasn’t with me anymore. We had chatted during the first lap about running together and splitting up. We even joked about whether we would hold hands at the finish as we shared first place. We knew what each other’s goals were so I wasn’t completely surprised to find myself alone. During the remainder of this lap the heat continued wear on me. Although the dew was long gone, I was still drenched from a steady flow of sweat. I almost stopped at the creek crossing during this lap to dunk my head and cool off, but I knew the water aid station was just ahead and somewhat reluctantly passed on the opportunity. I finished up my second lap and checked into the start/finish area at about 3:50, even further behind my target time after trying to push myself harder during that second lap to make up the couple minutes that I needed. It was at this point that I started doubting the feasibility of making my goal of a sub 9 hour finish.



Map of the dam crossing

It was at some point during my third lap that I started coming to terms with not achieving my main intention of the race. The heat was getting more and more oppressive with every lap. My water bottle was either empty or nearly empty every time I reached an aid station. It had been about five hours since the start of the race and I don’t think I had urinated once. I tried to pick up my pace during this lap, but my body just wouldn’t respond how I wanted it to. I continued to fall further off of my target pace. Most people recommend having tiered goals going into a race. I didn’t do that because I was so sure I’d be able to hit my A goal of a sub 9 hour finish. It was looking more and more like that wasn’t going to happen. I decided I would make up a secondary goal on the fly to stay motivated. I was in the lead since RP had fallen back during the second lap, so what better goal to stay motivated to the finish but to hang on to the lead? So finishing in first became my tier B goal. During this lap I stopped at the creek crossing and dunked my head and soaked my shirt in the cool water. I was so happy I did because at the next water station there was only enough water left to fill my bottle (20 oz.) about halfway.

I’m not certain, but I believe it was during this lap that a group of a few runners that must have finished a shorter distance race were parked at the point on the course where you exit the trail and head into the neighborhood. They must have been waiting for runners to cheer on because when they saw me approach the cranked up the stereo playing “I Would Walk 500 Miles” by the Proclaimers and hopped out of the car cheering. The song choice made me chuckle and cheered me up a bit for the last of the lap.

I rolled into the start/finish area a little past the six hour mark, so much for those sub two hour laps. I was feeling overheated and dehydrated. I also had the feeling that I was fighting a losing battle with my A goal steadily getting farther out of reach. Although feeling a bit trashed mentally and physically, I went through the aid station quickly to try to finish what was beginning to feel like a suffer fest as

Trail following the creek to the dam crossing

quickly as possible. It was during this fourth lap that I started wondering how RP was doing and regretting pushing harder during that second lap. I thought that maybe if I had just kept pace with him at least I would have had some company in this misery. And misery it was. I had never felt so dehydrated or overheated. I realized at a couple points during this lap that my head had stopped sweating as my hair was dry. I felt like I had to urinate, but only a dark brownish yellow dribble came out. When I reached the creek crossing during this lap, I took some extra time to soak and cool down. I found a low rock at the creek edge and hung from it with my waist up submerged in the cool flowing water. After a couple minutes I grudgingly pulled myself out of the water and trudged up the rock road climb. It was a blessing I pushed myself to move when I did at that point because as I was arriving at the aid station on the other side of the dam a volunteer was about to leave the unmanned aid station without any water. I was beyond happy that I got there before she had left and when she offered me ice I profusely expressed my love for her. I got a full, iced water bottle, a hat full of ice, and a far improved mood and was on my way to wrap up lap four. It was towards the end of this lap that one house in the neighborhood section of the course had put out a sign proclaiming “Way To Go Wildcat Runners! Heat Index:  109.7°F”. Thankfully, they also put out a garden sprinkler for runners to cool off in.

I returned to the start/finish area at about the 8.5 hour mark. At this point I was almost relieved that my goal time was a lost cause. I also had plenty of distractions away from those negative thoughts. RP was back at the start/finish area. By this time he had called it quits after three laps. His girlfriend and father were there as were my wife, our two boys, and her mom. I felt like I had a full crew there to patch me up and get me back out for my final lap. I put on clean dry socks and swapped out my soggy Sauconys for Altra Superiors. While doing this, RP’s dad handed me a Sierra Nevada IPA. A cold IPA never tasted so good. While getting the IPA and some calories down, I found out that of the 30 or so runners that started the 50 miler only myself and one other runner were still on the course. I guess this made my B goal more attainable as I only had to stay in front of one other runner. With that confidence booster, dry feet, and a little alcohol in my system I headed out in good spirits for my final lap.

As happy as I was heading out for the final lap, it wasn’t long before the sun and heat reminded me how tough that fourth lap had been. Soon after leaving the start/finish area, my main motivation was the creek. All I cared about was getting to the creek and laying down in the water. The miles were slow, but once I got to the creek it was bliss. I laid face down in the water until I started wondering what a passerby might think if they saw me. I was sure they would assume I was a corpse. With that thought I pulled myself out and moved on. Within minutes, the relief of the water was replaced with the dense heat and humidity of the day. I passed through the unmanned empty water station trying not to think about how there was once a water station there. I rolled through the neighborhood one more time and got a final soak in the garden hose before making it to the finish to be greeted by my friends and family.

I finished with an official time of 10:55:02 which was good enough for first place this year. As happy as I was with the results and my effort, I would be lying if I didn’t admit it was somewhat bittersweet for several reasons (I think my face at the finish kinda shows these emotions). First and most importantly, my finishing time was nowhere near my target A goal time of nine hours. Second was the fact that it felt like I got first place (my made on the fly B goal) by default. The majority of the 50 mile runners had stopped at three laps and taken a 50 k finish time. Now whether you believe that race directors should allow runners to drop down to shorter distance finishes or if you believe that runners who don’t finish the distance they registered for should be recorded as DNFs is a separate although somewhat related issue. No matter how it was handled at this race, I still would have felt like I got first place somewhat by default. I most likely was not the fastest distance runner that started the 50 miler that day. However, only myself and one other runner were stubborn enough to finish the full distance given the torturous conditions.

Scott Snell
January 3, 2017