TNF Endurance Challenge Championship Season Finale

The main chase pack with the eventual contenders soon after dawn. Photo from the TNFEC Facebook page.

Yesterday was the big 50-mile showdown of the year in San Francisco, courtesy of The North Face. We had almost the entire team there for TNF Endurance Challenge Championship and runners came from all around the globe to see who was the fastest (and to win some prize money, ideally).

Marin County is the perfect race course and hosts numerous great races, including the Miwok 100k. And on top of that we had summer-like weather for the area which led to a beautiful red sunrise, views of the Golden Gate Bridge, blah, blah. Basically it would have been great for a fun run, but I think everyone just ran so hard we probably appreciated it most after the race.

irunfar covered the race in detail before, during and after and posted a round-up of results here. No doubt it was a whole load of fun for everyone and there's only so many races where you get to race such a quality field, so everyone was visibly buzzing at the prospect.

In advance of the race it looked like any number of men could take the title if they ran a perfect race and probably around five women had a shot at the win in the ladies' race. But one thing was certain - nobody would be near the front if they only had an ok day, or even a good day.

As most people thought, it started off with a huge pack of maybe 25 men together at a fast pace against a gusty wind, plus the lead women stuck very close together as well. However, two of the Salomon guys flew off even faster, Gregory Vollet and Christophe Malarde, although they later dropped. The pack just flew along and within an hour I had dropped a couple of minutes off the pace from choosing to run a more sensible pace...although still pushing hard (I had a 5:24 mile in there).

Sunrise came and the headlamps were dropped off at Muir Beach aid station, 12.7 miles into the race. A flatter section followed and we could see each other properly now. That was a nice change as I'm not an experienced night runner and my headlamp was like a floodlight so when I ran behind anyone wearing white I got blinded by the reflected shine - Lizzy Hawker unintentionally dazzled me a couple of times (in more ways than one!) as she surged along at the front of the women.

Jason Loutitt from TNF Canada ran up the long, gentle climb to the Cardiac aid station at 18 miles just ahead of me then I latched on to have someone to talk to for a while. It was kind of surreal to be running this race since I found that each runner I approached turned from being a skinny anonymous guy to someone I either knew or had heard of and admired. It made Western States seem relatively uncompetitive even though there were a few notable exceptions from the start list who I won't list out (but Bryon Powell did here).

By the 22.8 mile turnaround the leaders had spread out slightly but there were still a lot of guys looking strong, as well as a few who looked burnt out. I was 11 minutes off the lead and knew I'd have to kick it up a notch to have a chance. I tried but couldn't speed up as planned so suspected I'd be in for a hard day and was right. I've spent the whole year trying to fit my training around a race calendar I selected without much concern for recovery and it's kept me the wrong side of the fine line every runner tries to maintain, although I had a longer rest before this race to try to correct that. Lesson learned for 2012, but I still had almost 30 miles to push through and if I blew up then a whole load of guys would take advantage and zoom past. It's pressure, but it's a hell of a lot of fun and one of the biggest draws of racing for me and many others. Just because the day wasn't going to plan, it merely meant moving the bullseye to doing as well as I could.

I can generally judge my fitness off my marathon times and at the moment I'd struggle to go much below 2:45 (as shown by the 1:21 half marathon as Elvis which wasn't particularly comfortable six days earlier) so knew I was lacking pace compared to the guys I had to race. In comparison, back in February when I felt great I reckon I'd have run under 2:30.

So each part of the course was now broken down into running aid station to aid station, based on running bits of it in other races and vague snap-shots in my memory from looking at the course map. Then I was concentrating so much on power-hiking up from Stinson Beach aid station (mile 28.2 at sea level) that I found myself on a path with no markers. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a marker but had recently seen a couple of runners ahead, so wasn't sure if I'd gone wrong. Then a couple of minutes later I see the markers coming from the side as my path reconnected with the correct path. Not a good sign and it mentally knocked me off whack so much that I thought I'd have to disqualify myself for not running the course (I mentioned this to people at the end but my Garmin showed I basically ran parallel to the course for about 5 minutes and may have even added a minuscule amount of distance).

The rest of the day was bright and the wind had died down to make for perfect running conditions and barely any mud. I had no idea what position I was in but at least I was moving up the field gradually as some of the early leaders faded back. It's hard to see talented guys having a bad day but on the trail isn't the time for too much sympathy as it's a race after all and there's always post-race to dissect the day in detail. All you can do is try to avoid bonking yourself, managing nutrition, liquids and pace. But as I passed super fast youngsters, Matt Flaherty and Jordan McDougal (my new team-mate who I only met just before the race) at Cardiac 2 (32.9 miles), I could tell I was hitting the carnage amongst some of the genuine contenders.

Around 25 miles in. Photo from Drymax Socks.

Black and white always looks better even though I was barely moving. Photo from Brett Rivers.

After a few more miles and catching a couple more 50-milers amongst the 50k runners who were now running the same route to the finish, the remaining climbs and descents were smaller and less technical with less than 1,000ft each time. The pace had slowed down at just the point that it should have been increasing  and nobody looked comfortable.

Miles went by without injury or incident but I felt rough until around the 38.9 mile aid station. At least I was moving through the field and nobody passed me until new TNF team member, Mike Foote, caught me at Muir Beach 2 (42.6 miles) and looked really strong as he powered uphill. At the same point we caught Mike Wardian who had a rare bad day and felt sick.

On the final climb after Tennessee Valley 2 (45.5 miles) my efforts were rewarded by catching a couple more guys but then I heard grunting behind me and saw Anna Frost and her pacer moving up the hill. She was as unstoppable as a glacier, but considerably faster and seemed to be red-lining even though she didn't look like she was going to need to slow down. My power-hike/run combo up the hill lost me a little time but I was with her at the high point and with just three miles of downhill and flat to the finish. I wondered what had happened to Lizzy Hawker, who'd led earlier and looked unbeatable, but later found out she'd had to drop due to an achilles pain.

Anna was on a mission and even a 5:20 mile downhill from me barely gapped her. Although I obviously wanted to avoid being chicked, my main focus was to chase down any remaining men who were just ahead but there were only marathoners and 50k runners within reach. I virtually collapsed on the finish, knowing I couldn't have tried harder on the day. 6:55 was my time but Anna was just a minute behind, running one of the most impressive 50-mile trail runs I'm aware of to beat the world's best female trail ultra runners. But maybe not as impressive as a blood-stained Mike Wolfe who crushed the course record and the competition in 6:19 to place him in strong contention for Ultra Runner of the Year. Amazing stuff, although I can't help thinking that there seems to be a TNF policy to have the whole team named Mike.

Mike Wolfe after his win. Photo from TNFEC's Facebook page.

Also, don't miss this video from the Endurables covering the race at the front:



Or this video from Salomon covering their athletes at the race:



irunfar covers the whole event in more detail and shows off the variety of great performances out there in Marin, but I'll also mention Ellie Greenwood who added this race on at the last minute because it looked fun even though her season was meant to be over...and still almost won, running 7:07 for 2nd and 16th overall. Full results are here. And congratulations to everyone who ran. A truly great day and inspiring to everyone there.

So goodbye to the 2011 season. It's been fun and exciting for me as a runner and a fan, but there's some improvement to target for 2012.

Seattle Half Marathon and Cyber Monday

Yesterday I dusted off the Elvis suit for its 5th race (previous ones being Guinness World Records at London 2007, Rome 2008 and Seattle 2009, Miwok 100k 2011) at the Seattle Half Marathon. It was the last of my 2011 runs to help support and raise awareness for the work done at the Starfish Greathearts Foundation to help AIDS orphans in Africa, so if you're feeling generous, please donate here (UK) or here (all others).

The race was wet and windy and it didn't help that I forgot to bring a belt, which is essential for a one-size-fits-all costume. Instead I had string to hold up wet trousers, which meant they slipped down and chaffed more than usual. However, it was fun to be part of the 11,000 people running the marathon or half and to not do the full race for once, although the hilliest section is within the last few miles of both courses so that wasn't avoided. I think Amy and her sister, Megan, kind of enjoyed it as their first half marathon and longest run ever, but they may be cursing me a little bit today as they limp around.

I did spot a guy in a Spiderman suit walking around the finish after I'd eaten some food but I couldn't be 100% certain he'd run or not. You never know.

Next weekend is the big showdown at the North Face Endurance Challenge Championship 50 miler in Marin, by San Francisco. It's looking to be the hottest trail race competition of the year (sorry, UTMB), as you can see from the irunfar preview of the men's race. Just needs a couple more Salomon guys from Europe and it'd have pretty much every elite who's fit on the starting line. So it should be great to catch up with people and to meet a load more I've not bumped into before.

Finally, since it's Cyber Monday and I have a couple of coaching spots left, I'm offering 5% off my prices on my coaching website for anyone who commits today only (up to midnight PST).

Return of Elvis

Seattle marathon 2009

After a few weeks off running and plenty off racing, I tried a 5k last week and hated it. Annoyingly it was a PB, but only because the course was short and my actual speed was barely above marathon PB pace.

Luckily I have stuff that does interest me more coming right up. Firstly, there's the Seattle Half Marathon in a week where I'll be returning to the course where I last got the Elvis marathon Guinness World Record (2:42). Just half the distance this time, but faster and for charity. As with earlier in the year, I'm trying to help out the Starfish Greathearts Foundation, who help AIDS orphans in Africa. If you'd like to help me support this worthy cause, donations in the UK can be given here or other nationalities can donate here.

Given this time of year is Thanksgiving (for 330m people, anyway), it's a good time to remember how lucky most of us are and how much we take for granted, so please help the charity out if you're amused by or like my odd efforts to raise awareness.

After taking that race fairly easy, I have the final big showdown of the year at The North Face Endurance Challenge Final. This is shaping up to be a seriously competitive 50 miler, probably the best field I've ever heard of in a trail 50 (better than last year - check out some of the top names from all over the world on this list). Should be really fun to hang out with the world's best and be part of such a speedy field in one of my favorite places to run - Marin.

Enjoy the 'holiday season' as they say over here in the US and good luck with your races or off season fun.

Also, if you're thinking of a Christmas present for a runner, I have a couple of spots left for coaching and it's an ideal present for a distance runner which could help make their 2012 season the best yet. More details here.

Dirty Second Half, Bend

This morning there was a great race in Bend which I ran a couple of years ago too, the Dirty Second Half. It follows on from the Dirty Half in June and has a slightly more difficult course, basically involving dirt and single track with a 750ft climb to half way then back down, plus lots of rolling trails along the way. As a bonus, Krissy Moehl was in town for a Patagonia shoot and ran the race so it was good to catch up with her and to make some new friends. I also wore a florescent North Face vest after the RD warned that hunting season has just started so try not to get shot. I was about the only one who opted to glow in the dark, but I certainly wasn't shot, despite hearing a lot of loud bangs.

I do plan to take things easy to get some decent recovery in, but I think my issue has just been too many long races (50 milers and longer) at too high an intensity and with too little a gap between them. I was sensible enough to not also run the inaugural Bend marathon the day before, but I was tempted. Mind you, seeing a guy finish the half there with bandages, blood and dirt all over him was a little worrying (he'd fallen hard somewhere and smashed his face!).

More short races is a good thing and they really don't leave you as wrecked, even with a significant level of effort. That feeling of (relative) speed is also a bonus as I've not had too much fast running recently and it's just plain fun to zoom along single-track and not have to save something in the tank for later.

The course starts outside Bend at the Seventh Mountain Resort and almost immediately has a short, steep downhill and uphill which gives a good idea of whether the legs feel good. Seven days off running meant my legs had recovered a bit and today was mainly fun running. I couldn't wait until the highest point so that the cruising could begin and the single-track on the way back was perfect for pure enjoyment. I ran much of it completely alone after the lead two guys flew off at an incredible pace.

Finishing was a relief, particularly that I'd felt ok most of the way. But the first two guys were so far ahead they weren't even around the finish any more (1:15 and 1:18 on a course that probably adds almost 10 minutes to your road half marathon time). 1:26 for third was a good result and makes me feel like I'll at least get through the race in Chile in two weeks. A good day out on the trails for everyone.

A few photos from the Footzone running store blog which show the types of trail in the race:

UROC Review

Wrecked. Photo courtesy of irunfar's Twitter.

Love this video showing some of the fog. Plenty more videos on the UROC website.

The mist lifts temporarily and second and third places are just ahead along the undulating road. As a dickhead in a Jeep tries to purposefully run us off the road, I turn to let them know what I think. As I do, I see that fifth is also visible now. Maybe two minutes separates four of the five 'podium' places and there's barely a 10k left to run on the road in the inaugural Ultra Race of Champions 100k near Charlottesville, VA. So all that can be done is to speed up and try to change the order.

There were plenty of twists and turns along the whole distance and I think everyone there was suitably impressed with the organization and format of the race. Enough fast guys showed up to really push the pace and the two spot prizes for the first to the highest point (5.5 miles in) and to the 33 mile aid station seemed to make a few start quicker than they should have.

It was also a great social event with established ultra legends making cameos (Scott McCoubrey and Dr David Horton) as well as a good selection of the established fast guys in the US (Geoff Roes, Dave Mackey, Mike Wardian, Dave James, etc) and newer blood showing their stuff (Matt Flaherty and Jon Allen running particularly well). There was even one of the select 10 finishers ever of the Barkley Marathon (Jonathan Basham), probably the hardest race out there - if you don't believe me, then this may change your mind.

Others can tell the story from their perspectives, but here's the only perspective I had out there - mine. irunfar has summarized it well and provided excellent coverage, as did the race website. In particular I have to point out the live and near live video coverage with commentary which was a first for a trail ultra and looked amazing.

The race:

The weather had been humid with torrential rain the previous day, but we started off with overcast and cool conditions. The controversial separate elite start at 7am (15 minutes before the rest of the field) included a 200m loop to go past the crowds then off down the trails. I love it when a race starts downhill since it tends to wake my legs up faster and I cruised along talking to Matt Flaherty who won the North Face 50 miler the previous weekend in Madison, WI.

The course was hard to assess in advance, as shown below in profile with almost 13,000ft of ascent, given the frequent switches between easy trail, technical/rocky/slippery sections and roads. The very few flatter sections should also allow for a real increase in pace, but we really didn't know what to expect.

The first 'King of the Mountain' prize of $200 at 5.5 miles maybe incentivized a couple of guys to go off hard but it just seemed that the pace was very fast immediately. Too fast for a 100k as tough as this, and this proved to be the case for a few guys. I settled into a walk soon into the first climb since it was taking too much effort that early on to run and I'd rather save my energy to fight later in the race. This put me in about 15th at the first checkpoint, but I wasn't far behind and wasn't concerned.

Different runners clearly had different strengths and the continual changes in the running surface and gradient meant a lot of back and forth between runners. In particular there was an early 1,500ft downhill, mainly on road that saw some leaders hammering downhill. I knew that it would hurt a few people later on and tried to restrain myself to merely my 10k pace (it was hard to not go faster, especially seeing others zooming along).

Dave Mackey and Scott Gall were pushing things up front at an impressive speed, but I got myself up to the cusp of the top 10 running with Michael Owen along a flatter section before heading down an easy trail to Sherando Lake aid station (17.6 miles) where we saw the leaders up to a mile ahead of us on the out and back.

Michael Owen and myself must have run around 10 miles together in total but on leaving the lake for the biggest climb of the day he dropped off as the mist covered us, and soon after had to DNF, unfortunately. I was impressed by his sensible pacing and he seemed to be running within himself to save up the effort for later in the day, so was surprised to see him slow.

That climb up to Bald Mountain had some technical sections of sharp, small rocks which could easily turn an ankle. But it was only 1,700ft vertically so was over soon and I caught Eric Grossman (recent Miwok 100k winner) just after the high point.

I'd not felt great all day but was keeping things at a gentle pace to see if things would click eventually. They did around 18 miles but only for a short period before I felt that all-too-familiar fatigue from too much racing this year. However, like the other times (Comrades, Western States and more) it just meant a general lethargy instead of a complete crash. And the way to deal with it is to merely reduce the pace a bit rather than having to stop or slow to a crawl. Others hit really big walls, but I was wading through the fog as if it was as substantial as treacle. Just running but without the higher gears being available.

Luckily the next road section was fairly easy so I could cruise through the fog even when the media crew decided to drive next to me for a mile and film. Had to put in a little more effort for that, although when I saw the footage it did look very slow...especially when immediately followed by shots of Mike Wardian running that same section.

I felt basically the same all the way out to the turnaround at 37.2 miles but at least I was moving up the field. On the relatively fast trail section lasting 4.1 miles each way I was running with Jon Allen and we saw some carnage as Dave Mackey walked towards us on his way to dropping. I don't think he went too fast, just turned up feeling bad but wanted to be part of the show and he certainly led the charge.

Coming back toward us we got to see the leaders and the gaps, although the fog was dense and nullified the views along the ridge. At that point Mike Wardian had three miles on me in first and looked very comfortable. Geoff Roes was next around 1.5 miles ahead, then Matt Flaherty with 1.25 miles advantage. Scott Gall had fallen down to fourth and was 0.75 miles ahead, so I knew he was slowing, but I was surprised to see 'Mr Barkley', JB, in fifth with a half mile lead over Jon and myself, who were now in sixth and seventh. Clearly the stubbornness and fitness required for 59 hours of hell on that course makes for a tough competitor in any ultra.

I passed Jon as we turned to head back and caught Scott Gall walking soon after, who dropped. It was still too early to race but I tried to reel in the positions without pushing too much, too soon. It didn't help that I kept being told that JB and Matt looked tired and were 'just ahead' yet I couldn't even see them, partly due to the fog.

On the way back to Bald Mountain I passed JB as he vomited and moved to fourth. With at least 14 miles left anything could happen, but I thought to myself that it looked like Mike's only way to lose would be to get lost. Maybe I jinxed him since he took a turn back down the mountain along the route we came up instead of the continuing route on a right turn. According to our Garmin comparisons at the finish line, he ran a total of 67 miles while I did 63.9, which did include a short mistake of my own of maybe 0.2 miles. So he added a 'Wardian handicap' and somehow dropped into third when he popped back on to the right route. A real shame, but Mike's a fighter and would give everything to get back to the front. He's not a DNF kind of guy, and when you can seemingly run at your peak every weekend, that's especially impressive.

In the final section of single track, Jon caught me up because it was still too early to go all out when I felt as flat as I did. This is where we did a little detour to a waterfall, but then we had a climb back to the remaining road section of 8.5 miles. As we appeared, literally out of the mist, at the penultimate aid station at the start of the road, I saw Mike heading out of it and was surprised. I did a final refill of my TNF waterpack, intending to start the race proper and run right through the final aid station.

Would 8.5 miles be too much for a final push? I couldn't tell, but it was now or never and there was no danger of a DNF this late on. The fog temporarily dispersed and I could see Mike and Matt ahead just as the Jeep I mentioned earlier tried to hit us. Four guys fighting for positions on the road with Geoff supposedly twenty minutes ahead. Generally I'd love this situation, especially with a few miles that were merely gently rolling at first, but I wasn't expecting any gifts. Mike's a 2:17 marathoner and Matt recently did a 2:22. With the lack of road running I've done since Comrades I think a 2:45 would be a struggle right now so catching them would involve running myself into the ground, plus maybe some luck.

The fog rolled over us again and meant I couldn't even judge whether my work was paying off or not. A couple of 6:30 miles felt like a lot faster and I was reminded of Comrades in 2010. There I'd chased Mike down at the end, but it involved running 6s to the end and was probably my best run ever. Both situations had the lung-busting, all-out sensation but this time I could tell it'd take Mike to have a very bad day for things to swing my way. Plus I didn't really want to beat him if it's only because of a wrong turn, not that that made me hold back.

The final aid station was at the end of the flatter road and headed steeply downhill for 700ft vertically in just over a mile. The visibility was better and now Matt was just ahead, but Mike must have powered through the pea soup to move well into second and was out of sight. Ok, so just a 2:22 marathoner to catch over 4.3 miles of steep down then a longer, steep up.

A good push for the descent got me past Matt but I felt like three more miles was too much. I tried to get round a corner on the uphill before having to walk but couldn't gap Matt enough to get out of sight and he went just past me before he walked. So, it was going to be like this. Both of us run ragged into the ground and with nothing left to push up the final hill. My walking was faster than his, but he didn't need to walk as much as me and by the top he'd gone out of sight. Much of the hill had Dave James and Jason Bryant (both had dropped earlier due to injuries) giving me updates on Jon behind and Matt in front. I was getting more concerned with Jon, but kept a lead of at least a couple of minutes over him.

I'll be honest that this was the situation I'd most wanted to avoid - having to hammer out the final uphill. Too many races this year and too many draining finishes (like spending hours 'sprinting' to the finish of Western States to try to break into the top 10) had left less desire to drive myself to my limits at the close of a race. I don't mean I didn't want to try, just that when there's several hours of red-lining it takes a huge mental effort which can't be done too often or you feel frazzled. And I felt frazzled.

Men's top five. L-R: Jon Allen, Matt Flaherty, me, Mike Wardian and Geoff Roes. Courtesy irunfar's Twitter.

Full results here but the men's top five was Geoff Roes (8:58), then Mike Wardian (9:20), Matt Flaherty (9:22), me (9:23) and Jon Allen (9:26). Was great to see Geoff have a good result, although it looks like he had to suffer through a tough day too and wouldn't have wanted to win the race in the way he did after Mike's error. I didn't catch much of the women's race but the leaders were close each time I saw them.

Summary video of the whole race here:


In hindsight, I do love the course and the dynamic of the varying terrain. But on the day I just wanted it to end and didn't need it to be a couple of miles long. Gill and Francesca put on a great event and I definitely want to return (hopefully fresher) next year. I can see this getting really big over time. A lot has been said about the prize money and how it may have motivated people, but in reality it was too small this year to have much effect (a total purse of $10,000 over five men and five women). I think what really attracted people to the run was the chance to have a tough race against great competitors and to have a genuine championship feel in a trail race, more on a par with professional sports than ultrarunning. I don't think many were disappointed at all.

Next up should be a big, long rest. However, I've got the chance to run in Chile three weeks after UROC so the rest will have to wait. This race pummeled my legs and mind, but that's kind of why we do the sport in the first place.

Professionalism - Ultra Race Of Champions 100k Pre-Race

So the Ultra Race of Champions ("UROC") 100k is almost here, and with it the biggest push towards professionalism in our sport in North America. Prize money has always been non-existent or small in ultra-running (outside South Africa - I'll mention this more below), except in a few 'pedestrian' races from 18th and 19th century Britain which were popular for gambling crowds. And maybe a couple of other long multi-day events (I believe the Melbourne-Sydney races in Australia often put up a lot of cash). In particular, there's a good history of ultrarunning, which covers the early gambling start, in Professor Tim Noakes' 'Lore of Running'.

We do already have the North Face Endurance Challenge series with a $10,000 first prize in the final and these races are great, particularly the final. Last year's final was almost certainly the most competitive 50 miler ever and this year's will probably be even more so. So I should give credit here to this series, but it doesn't push the elite profile of the race much and it's only the money that makes it any different. UROC is much more focused on raising the profile of the runners, selling the race on the back of who will be there and purposefully opting for a more professional set-up for the runners, with some costs covered to some runners ('appearance fees') just for showing up. This is a move towards the more normal set-up for track and road races.

I know plenty of people have speculated, particularly in blogs, about whether it's good or bad for the sport to have more prize money and to make it possible to make a living from ultrarunning. Even about how possible it is to get enough interest in a sport where a dramatic move can still take hours to play out, often in remote locations.

Well, technology has certainly moved on dramatically in recent years to maybe make it possible for this to be a spectator sport. I never would have thought that following a race through one line updates on Twitter for hours could ever be interesting, yet this seems to have taken off in the past couple of years. With webcams along courses and instant updates online, maybe the time has come. Ultras have undoubtedly grown in prominence and popularity recently and stars like Kilian Journet even get their own adverts in Times Square, plus his well-known Kilian's Quest series of online shows.

Without the money from gambling that the pedestrians benefited from, it'll be interesting to see whether UROC successfully achieves its aim 'to create the Championship Event for the sport of Ultra Distance Running' (quote from the UROC website, and here's the list of elite entrants). Money is only part of the equation given that there's no doubt that UTMB attracts the world's best mountain ultrarunners with no prize purse, just like Western States which has nearly the same profile from a North American perspective.

But given the huge effort involved in training and high cost of attending races far from home, it seems only fair that the runners who provide the entertainment and help to sell sponsor's products don't do it all on their own dime. It's true that many do have sponsorship deals, but these generally just cover the main costs and very few people come away from a race cash-neutral, never mind having earned even as much as if they'd worked at McDonald's for the few days they were away from home.

Personally I hope UROC is a big success and that our sport grows and grows. It's a great way to push your boundaries and find out about yourself, while shorter distances rarely have those epiphanic moments. The more people who run ultras, the better for society. Ok, it means more lotteries in classic races but it also means more races to choose from. Choice in this sense is a good thing and there'll always be races around for 'purist' runners who want to avoid the crowds and fanfare. I wouldn't want to be without these for a second, but the opportunity to race against the best and to have everyone really focusing on that race is something that excites me both as a runner and as a fan of the sport.

One last word has to cover the South African ultras which are on a scale of their own and dwarf any other races out there. Having run the two prominent ultras over there, once at Two Oceans 56k (my blog) and five times at Comrades 89k (my 2009 blog, 2010 blog and 2011 blog), I can say that the significant prize money at both of these only enhances the races. Helicopters provide live TV coverage, as do lead vehicles (admittedly easier for road races).

Comrades is on national TV for the full 12 hours of the race, plus before and after. Yet the celebrities it makes of the runners and the extremely high quality organization only add to the experience for the thousands that participate and millions who watch. To put it in context, the winners of this race earn at least US$80,000 including sponsorship bonuses, plus more money for being the first to particularly points on the course, being local or a course record. If a local won in a course record, I estimate they'd win over US$140,000 at current exchange rates!

I expect I might prickle a few people's sensibilities with this posting and will have many negatives pointed out to me, but I'd certainly like to hear all the (non-troll) points of view.

Also, irunfar has put up coverage of the men's elite race and will probably do the same for the women.

Waldo 100k

Being back in Oregon means all the races I meant to fit in last time I was here are now back on my to-do list. That meant I was able to squeeze in Waldo 100k through the Cascades in Central Oregon and see some of the lakes from the Cascade Lakes Relay from high up. Supposedly 11,000ft of climbing in 100k, but several people claim it's more like 13,000ft and, given Miwok 100k is around 10,000ft, this one feels way steeper. Mind you, still a lot less than the UTMB races in a week - the CCC 100k there is over 20,000ft of ascent.

A lack of air-con at home has meant that getting to sleep at a reasonable hour is very difficult right now so I wasn't able to pre-adjust myself for the 5am start but drove down to Willamette Ski Pass the night before to sleep in the car then wake up in a complete daze about five hours too early for my body.

Being the first race of the 2011/12 Montrail Ultracup (which finishes with Western States), it meant runners were attracted by being part of the cup, by the decent prize money to the top finishers overall and by the lure of qualification spots for WS100 for the top two men and women (dropping down to third if any of the top two had already qualified). Given Dave Mackey was the clear favorite (CR holder at Bandera and Miwok 100ks as well as winning both of those this year) and had a WS100 entry already, plus I already had my WS100 place too, that meant it would be very likely that top three in the men would be enough to get that coveted spot. Ditto for the women since Aliza Lapierre was running as the favorite and already had her spot too.

Many of the guys I'd met at Mt Hood 50 and the run around Mt Hood shortly afterwards were there, plus a whole host of other Oregonian and Californian ultrarunners whose names many would recognize. Yassine Diboun in particular was gunning for a WS100 qualifier and looked like he had a great chance to get it...I knew I'd be looking out for him along the whole way and hoping to stay ahead.

The course went up the ski run from the lodge, climbing steeply enough to make me walk before the top of the approx 1,200ft climb. It was pitch black and my headlamp was dying so I had to focus very hard through the trees (no moonlight to help out) to not fall and to spot the lights ahead of me so I wouldn't miss a turn on the single-track.

By the first aid station at 7.4 miles, Dave had zoomed off but the next six or so guys were all together and we could finally turn off the lights. Time to make the ascent from under 5,000ft (lowest point on the course) to around 7,200ft on top of Mt Fuji. Hopefully I'll see its namesake next year in Japan for TNF Ultra-Trail Mt Fuji but this one was mainly runnable and in the last few steps we were given a sudden and spectacular view out over Waldo Lake and a large chunk of the Cascades.

Waldo, photo courtesy of Craig Thornley.

Fuji view from a random Flickr account online.

Unfortunately we then headed straight back the way we came so the view was only for a few seconds. I'd have loved to stay longer but the heat was on and I was only in about fifth with Dave already about 10 minutes ahead, judging by the out-and-back to the summit. I at least wanted a chance of winning.

Lots of fast downhill followed and I moved past Yassine into fourth, trying to conserve energy and reduce pounding on the thighs given I was only about 15 miles into the race. Nick put some distance on me but I felt I was going fast enough and looked at the splits I'd written on my arm for the CR and saw I ran that section below CR pace, albeit still five minutes too slow overall.

Annoyingly, I still haven't felt fresh and good in a race since about March, just before I ran way too many races and overtrained. I'd hoped to be back to normal by now but the legs still had that heavy feeling and, relatively, a distinct lack of pace compared to five months ago. I've accepted that I need to do a hell of a lot more proper hill training to improve running in races like Waldo, but Bend is the perfect place to do that. I've already started, with runs around Mt Hood and up to the top of Mt Bachelor a week ago (can hardly call it a run, but 'crawl' would be fairer). It's funny that I went an entire winter with no snow in Cali but now it's summer in Oregon I'm getting in a couple of snow runs every week by going up high.

The day heated up on the way through to the third climb up to the Twins and I kept discipline to run where possible, even if just for 50 yards, and power-walk any harder gradients. I could see how Dave was going so fast since the course was almost all runnable, but not yet for me. I went over the top of the first Twin and reached the 32 mile aid station on the way down, still in fourth and having run solo for quite a while.

I eventually caught up to third after the bottom of the descent and managed to overtake since he had stomach problems and later dropped. Then the climb up started again, but it was fairly easy at first and a slow jog was possible. It did gradually get steeper, but I jogged maybe half the time and on every section that I could.

By about 40 miles the power-hike/jog combo put me in sight of Nick Triolo in second, who was having a great race in his first 100k. I met Nick at Mt Hood 50, where he was third, then again running round that mountain where he carried one of my water bottles after my big fall left too much blood on my right hand to carry anything with it. We pushed up and up, maybe jogging half the time as we hit the snow. It's very rare for this course to have snow as it's in late August, but luckily the last few weeks of melting after a monster winter had meant we never had more than about 200 yards of snow and trail-finding was very easy with the pink surveyor's markers.

At 42 miles I felt slightly fresher after not having run much in the last few miles so I started running more than Nick and soon left him behind near the top of the climb. Just two more downhills left and one evil bitch of an ascent in-between.

I kept stuffing food and gels into me whenever possible but I was knackered and had lost my uphill legs, or whatever I had of them in the first place. Luckily I still felt fine on downhills and was cruising those through the single-track (almost the entire race is single-track and, if not tired, really enjoyable running).

The final climb started and was gentle at first so I hit the 49.9 mile aid station looking hot and bothered and really not looking forward to the steepest and greatest climb of the day up to Maiden Peak at over 7,800ft. However, I'd been told by Jeff Browning (who at that exact point was en route to a solid fifth at Leadville Trail 100 - nice work, mate!) that the gradient changes a lot so there are plenty of short runnable bits. Maybe for him, but after a third of the climb I was stuck in a power-walk. Well, not even that - more of a determined tip-toeing gradually uphill. I was working so hard, even at a very slow pace that I couldn't take on any food - I literally didn't have enough breath or saliva to swallow and didn't want to stop to eat. That's a new sensation, but reflects that I'd hammered through the day on legs that hadn't had any taper whatsoever (not smart, but I need the hill training and miles to get ready for UROC 100k and TNFEC Championship Final).

When I finally got to the top, the view was just amazing, but I was paranoid about losing my position and was sure that at least one of the guys behind me wouldn't have been so slow on that climb. I did stop for a few seconds to take it in, but then headed straight back downhill and didn't see anyone on the out-and-back final section to the peak so knew I had at least six minutes on third.

Maiden Peak summit view, courtesy of a random Flickr account.

Down, down, down and very steeply at first. Now I could feel it a bit in the legs but knowing it was only 7.5 miles to go from the next and final aid station, I didn't mind. I ate, drank and was generally incoherent while the aid station volunteers were very helpful. Now I just wanted it over and it felt more like closing out a 100-miler than a 100k.

Theoretically it was great running to the end, with three miles of gentle rolling trails then a gentle downhill for the final 750ft descent. Normally this would have been the type of trail to make me smile like a lunatic, especially with the few sections along the edges of the turquoise mountain lakes. But I was running with the fear of being caught by third, who I assumed would be able to chase me down after such a slow section previously.

Eventually I saw Lake Odell and the Ski Lodge and ran in for second in 9:42:51, exactly 36 minutes behind Dave. He crushed the CR by over four minutes and was on a massage table looking much better than when I last saw him post-race at WS100 where it looked like he was on a drip. He'd led from start to finish and run a very solid race, but I still posted the sixth fastest time in the race's history and only Dave has run the final section faster (so I probably wasn't in danger of being caught, in hindsight). A tough day which didn't go to plan and felt pretty awful 90% of the time, but it should make future races feel better and this was one I'm glad I got the chance to do.

It's a fantastic race course and was a chance to catch up with many of the non-Ashland-based Oregonian speedsters who either ran, paced or just showed up to chill out with a beer. Nick held on for third in 10:08 so has his spot at WS100 booked, which is great for him, but unfortunate for Yassine who really had his heart set on it (he ended up fifth after a hard day with a very respectable 10:28). Aliza won but just missed the women's CR by 10 minutes and finished in sixth overall in 10:33. Full results here.

Going to the Bend Brewfest afterwards was also a slight endurance feat, but in a town with so many breweries, this is something I couldn't miss.

Next up is a trip to the Alps to crew for a TNF athlete at UTMB, probably Hal from how things seem to be headed. I fly in two days and once I feel less exhausted I'll have enough adrenaline to get really pumped up about this instead. But I'm very glad I didn't enter it this year since I'm clearly not ready for it yet. One year of training should be enough so I can at least get through it ok without completely breaking myself.

What a busy weekend of races it's been and congratulations to all the finishers at all of them, especially the friends I've got running these: Pike's Peak Ascent/Marathon, Leadville Trail 100, Trans Rockies.

Training, Waldo and a TNF Running Video

Training's been going well towards the races over the next few months and I'm looking forward to a great course and several fast guys to race against at the Waldo 100k. I've heard it's got a pretty tough set of hills but recent weeks have shown me just how weak I was (and still am to a lesser degree) on the climbs so it should be fun to do the work to improve. This type of fun: running 40 miles around Mt Hood with 12,000ft of ascent/descent with friends, as recorded by Yassine Diboun on his blog.

Also, I did a promotional shoot last month with Kami Semick around Marin County for TNF Japan and the video is now on YouTube here and on my blog here. It shows off some great trails near Pan Toll, just up from Rodeo Beach and high up above Stinson Beach which show why there are so many fantastic races based there (like Miwok 100k, TNF Endurance Challenge Final, PCTR Headlands races and several other PCTR races). Kami's running alone until about 3:25, then just me until 6:25 then both of us for the last few minutes. Was really fun to shoot and a perfect reminder of the trails there now I've moved away.

Cascade Lakes Relay - 216.6 miles touring Oregon

Diamond Lake the night before the race

These two didn't manage any legs and looked sorry and deflated by the end.

Since I moved to Oregon and changed my race schedule, I've been able to get some last minute entries to races. That includes the 216.6 mile relay around Central Oregon which starts at Diamond Lake (near Crater Lake), weaves round a whole lot of other lakes then ends in Bend. The Cascade Lakes Relay is only in its first few years but has a great reputation as a more scenic, fun and relaxed version of Hood 2 Coast, its more famous Oregonian cousin.

I've never run a long distance relay and was lucky to be able to get a last minute place on the Pace Invaders team due to one of them being unable to get the time off work at the last minute. All I knew in advance of the race was that some of them had run it the previous year and a spreadsheet of the predicted times on each of the 36 legs, showing roughly a 35-hour finish time and about a 9:30/mile pace. I've never been in a race for that long so I knew it'd be a totally different experience, plus the team element would make it feel more like crewing for Mike Wardian at Badwater than running a race solo.

I met the guys the Thursday evening before the race at Diamond Lake after a day of hiking and walking round Crater Lake with Amy. We were split into two vans with me in van one with Gillian, Mary Beth, Katie and Lauren then the other van had Toni, Lynn (the boss), Terri, Corban, Eric and another Lauren. The first van runs legs 1-6, 13-18 then 25-30 and van two does the other legs up to 36.

Everyone seemed ready to have a good time and there were plenty of beers around but since I'd be sleeping in the car with Amy and getting up really early for our 6:20am start I thought I'd wait til the running was over. There's always a little risk joining a new group, especially when committing to sitting in a car with them for a day and a half and working up a stink on the roads and trails. But there's a self-selection in ultra running and this counts as that type of race, which tends to mean only kick-ass people bother turning up. The rest do triathlons.

After some car decorating (in an alien-related theme for Pace Invaders) we got a relatively early night and were all bright-eyed and raring to go around dawn. Well, mainly sleepy and glad that Lauren was doing the first leg so we'd get some time to wake up and let the temperature rise from around 40F. Most legs would be supported by the van but a few trail sections were inaccessible, including the starting 8.5 miles round Diamond Lake so we had to wait and have no idea when we'd see Lauren come through the mist.

I loved the way on each leg we had the stream of teams coming through, some in costumes or at least a team theme. Unlike Badwater where I was running at some point in virtually every hour of Mike's run, here I was scheduled to run basically once every 12 hours. In the end I got more runs in than just my scheduled once per grouping of six legs, but unfortunately that was due to Kurt's knee not holding up from an injury he's been suffering from.

Kurt while his knee still held out.

Our first section took close to the predicted eightish hours but most of us ran a little slower than we expected due to heat, soft trails and altitude of 5,000ft. It was certainly toasty out on the soft red dust trail for my 8.7 miles and I wished I had one of the road sections since I fancied a fast run to stretch out the legs. In temperatures around 80F, I was fairly happy with keeping just under a 6:30/mile pace but it did feel hard.

Gillian finished off our sixth leg then we drove to the van switching point in a small town called Silver Lake where we'd pick it up from van two after leg 12. Teams were laid out in the shade in a field and we had several hours to chill and chat to other teams, including the favorites and winners every year, Team Rebound/Footzone. I knew about half their team given they're from Bend and they were running solidly with some wicked fast times (they won it with an average pace of 6:29/mile). I'm loving the choice of races I'm getting now I'm back in Oregon - this one is definitely a gem.

Mary Beth and Katie relaxing at Silver Lake.

The scenery along the first stages involved roads straight through the forest but in legs 13-18 we were more out in the open in cowboy country. It was also sunset and after the first few miles we were in the dark on dusty double-track trails which all the passing crew vans turned into a choking mess. However, the vans did entertain too with music, comments and their lit-up decorations. I remember the pirate ship on top of one van, in particular - I think their team name was Chasing Booty, which was about a typical name (many involved either the words 'ass' or 'beer'). Kurt had suggested the raunchier name for our team of 'The Third Leg Is The Hardest' which was certainly a good one given the third leg for each of us probably would be the hardest after little sleep and general fatigue.

Through the dark we had plenty of softer surfaces to run on while in the middle of nowhere due to a lack of paved roads. It was difficult to judge pace at night and all of us thought we were running faster than we were and that our sections went slowly. I had my Garmin to help me and enjoyed most of my 7.1 miles of gently uphill track (plus most of Kurt's leg an hour earlier). Then by around 2am Gillian anchored home leg 18 and we headed to LaPine to get a couple of hours rest in a cabin that had been rented. It was a reasonably high spec place but we were all ready to drop and didn't even shower first. Some of the girls did wash in the morning but I stayed asleep until the last second.

Our final legs were generally shorter and prettier back in the woods with views of the Cascade Mountains and finally seeing some of the lakes too after going within a short distance of many more in earlier stages. It was hot again by the time it got round to my final runs (a 7.5 miler from Kurt then my own final 2.1 mile sprint) but I hammered them out for a bit more speed work. It felt a lot harder than the day before, but at least I didn't have to slow down during each run.

Unfortunately Lauren joined Kurt on the injured list and Gillian picked up her leg after a couple of miles. We all gave a lot to the race and the team and were exhausted and mosquito-bitten (some times we seemed to get attacked by entire swarms) by the end of our part, leaving the final six legs to van two to finish in style.

Van one's final leg - straight uphill for Gillian with help from Katie.

The finish in the west side of Bend was almost an anti-climax since we stopped running at 1pm but had to wait until almost 5:30pm for the proper race finish as we finished it as a group of twelve in 35h9m. The beers tasted good in the sun after that much time on our feet. Full results available on the CLR website.

Pace Invaders were a fun bunch and I was so glad to be able to join their team - thanks guys! We came 128th out of 153 finishing teams, 12 hours after the winners. But it's not a whole lot different being on a fast or a slow team since both involve supporting the team and pushing yourself. The main difference is just the expectations of times and places are altered, but the fun is still basically the same...it just lasts longer :) I love the variety of different types of terrain, distances and event styles. But I also enjoy having some races where everything is hyper competitive while in others it's more about just taking it all in and enjoying the experience. I try to mix both together often but it's most important to get good experiences and just have fun. Otherwise I can't see the point of running or any endeavor, really.

Next up is a fun jog around Mt Hood on Tuesday for 40 miles with friends. Will be my longest run ever outside of a race and almost equivalent in terms of altitude gain per mile to UTMB.

Lauren and Katie at Devil's Lake after our last leg.

Devil's Lake.

Mt Bachelor, the ski mountain for Bend.

Most of van one (L-R: me, Gillian, Katie and Mary Beth).

Mt Hood 50 miler and a new race schedule



Mt Hood



Timothy Lake

I've been meaning to run the Mt Hood 50 miler for the past few years since it's a great excuse to run around a striking mountain I can see every day in Bend, albeit very far away. But it's always clashed with other races. In London I always had the Davos K78 since a large chunk of my running club would race there. Then last year I was in the Bay Area and chose the local San Francisco marathon (btw, congratulations to Mike Wardian for winning that yesterday).

So it was great to run it this year, even though it involved a four-hour drive from Amy's sister's PhD graduation in Eugene (another congratulations) and very little sleep in my car. However, once the race starts it's always easy to remember why I do the early mornings and minor inconveniences.

The race started near Clackamas Lake and was mainly shaded under tree canopies, although it was surprisingly cold for the first hour anyway. I'd planned to jog it with Yassine Diboun but he zoomed off with a group of about five others while I started at a more leisurely pace with Amy Sproston. Mind you, we were still going close to a six hour pace.

The trails were gentle enough for a first run back after WS100 and the first out-and-back had some perfect views of Timothy Lake (both with and without mist) and Mt Hood. The turn around was at 14.2 miles at Frog Lake and I was about a mile behind Yassine and his friend Nick Triolo. They were laughing and chatting so I decided to maybe speed up a little or I might end up a long way behind them. I mainly wanted a training run, but I also didn't want to be slow (kind of a contradiction, but hey).

Yasine and Nick headed back while I was still headed out

As the day heated up I arrived back at the start/finish for the 28.4 mile aid station and set off on the second, harder, out-and-back. I was in fifth and feeling fine so jogged off and saw Sean Meissner sitting and spectating (I think he ran to the race through the night, but I'm not sure where from).

It was a gentle climb up almost 1,000ft to the next aid station and just beyond and I saw Yassine and Nick there. They took a bit longer to get through the aid station and get going again so I ended up ahead then had a fairly steep and more technical downhill, although still good trail compared to high in the mountains.

It heated up and that out-and-back was steeper than the first one had been so I drank a lot more from my hydration pack and ran out just before the turn around. But after a couple of minutes of refueling I was good to go and almost immediately saw Yassine and Nick who were jogging uphill well.

It had now changed from a training jog to an attempt at the course record, which one of the other runners told me was 6:30. I would have to do the return section three minutes faster than the out section, but I felt like I'd put in enough effort to justify fighting for a win, if necessary. So I put more effort in to try to stay ahead of the other guys and left myself with 42 minutes for the last six miles, which were mainly downhill.

I felt like I was going fast, although I was barely staying on the required pace, but a little more effort for a CR compared to jogging in and just missing it seemed like a simple choice. Sean was waiting again near the end with a group of people and urged me on to break 6:30, which again suggested that was the CR. And as I sped up I realized it was going to be very close and the undulating terrain in that last mile made it hard to go all out, particularly when I got stuck behind a troupe of horse-riders on the single-track.

Finally I broke out on to the road just before the final turn to the finish and I sprinted through the line in 6:29:10, much more exhausted (and dehydrated, after running out of water five miles earlier) than I'd planned. Todd Janssen, the Race Director, then confirmed I had the CR...by 16 minutes. Hmmm...seems like I could have just jogged it in, but I feel fine two days later so no harm was done by speeding up. Yassine then finished in 6:45:00, also just under the previous CR and Nick was another four minutes back plus Amy Sproston knocked a few minutes off the ladies' CR. Full results are here.

The podium. L-R: Nick, me and Yassine

I had a good couple of hours catching up with new and old friends at the finish and was generally satisfied in my decision to move back to Oregon. If this is the type of fun I'll get regularly then it'll keep me happy, plus my Amy knows a lot more people up here too. I'll miss a lot of Californian races, particularly the great PCTR series, but there should hopefully be one of their races in Bend next year - you heard it here first.

The move to Bend, OR, has meant shifting my race schedule around a bit, such as giving up my spot at the SF marathon for the Mt Hood 50. I also turned down my spot on the GB 100k team for the World Championship in Winschoten in the Netherlands in September. That wasn't an easy choice but was made based on costs. I'll be able to do it another year, hopefully many times but it was an honor just to be selected in the first place to run for my country.

Instead, I'll now have space to fit in cheaper, local races instead. Luckily there's plenty of good ones (thank you, Oregon) and the next one is the first race in the Montrail Ultracup, Waldo 100k in three weeks. I've heard it's a hard one and the field looks fast too, so hopefully the Mt Hood 50 signalled the end of my overtraining and fatigue from the past few months.

I've also entered the UROC 100k on the other side of the country at the end of September. It's got a load of elite men already signed up and there will undoubtedly be more given the prize money and the organizers aiming to make it as easy and convenient for fast runners to enter, with help like accommodation and ground transport covered. Any opportunity to race a large, fast field is welcomed since the competitive aspect of racing is one of my favorite things...amongst many. It's what made Rocky Raccoon additionally good this year and attracts people to Comrades and WS100. It's also partly what draws me to the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc next year.

So I hope to see plenty of passionate runners out at the races in the next few months. And one final thought is to point out my fellow Serpentine RC friend's blog. James Adams has got through 44 days out of around 70 in the LA to NYC race, averaging around 45 miles per day. He's gone through days of diarrhea and the current heat wave through much of the US and is still his usual, chirpy self.

Crewing for Mike Wardian at Badwater 135

Right next to the start line below sea level

Mike plus crew checking out the conditions the day before the race

Mike's ice bath at 42 miles

The entrance to Death Valley

What sort of idiots would run here before the race...or during?

Night running

Dawn sprints

Half way up the final climb and looking back with Mt Whitney behind

I’d heard that Mike was running Badwater earlier in the year and my first thought was ‘rather him than me.’ I’ve run two 100-milers so far this year and am not feeling the need to extend the distance just yet. I've never had any inclination to run this monster of a race, not because it's too hard, just that it doesn't look like 135 miles of pure heat would be fun. 

Friends have run this before plus it’s a race with a big reputation for being brutal due to numerous factors – it’s 135 miles, it starts below sea level but finishes around 9,000ft plus it’s in Death Valley with temperatures reaching 130F (50C) in the shade, of which there’s almost none. Blogs and personal accounts of this race include horror stories of very experienced runners being reduced to crawling while unpleasant things happen in their stomachs, causing extreme issues which I don’t need to go into. This is why it calls itself ‘the world’s toughest footrace’.

And until this year it had a cut-off time of 60 hours (now it’s been reduced to 48). 60 hours of non-stop racing in the most debilitating conditions imaginable while feeling like hell. Sounds fun to you?

Even though it didn’t sound like it would be enjoyable for the runners, it’s clearly an epic challenge and I asked Mike if he’d like an extra pacer to add to his crew so I could see first-hand. Luckily he took me up on the offer and I joined a group of his friends (Vince, Andy, Rick, Jay and Mike’s brother, Matt) who he’d known for years although only Jay had serious ultra experience, having run Badwater and crewed for it numerous times. He was the man we all looked to for advice and it was invaluable to have his logistical knowledge.

I didn’t really know what I was letting myself in for since I’ve run many ultras, some with pacers, but Badwater involves so much more input from the crews and pacers. Usually pacers can’t ‘mule’ for their runners, which means carrying supplies and kit for the runner. Only the crew can do this and usually only at designated aid stations. But at Badwater, the crew drives along the route and stops every mile or so to offer food and drink refills while a pacer runs behind (not in front or side-by-side according to the rules) carrying water etc. No pacers are allowed for the first 17 miles from the start at Badwater but then the pacers can carry iced water in a spray and continuously spray their runner. That’s a lot of effort given the harsh conditions.

Anyway, the pre-race days went well with everyone getting to know each other and Mike giving off a relaxed vibe, even though he said he was nervous. Race day came along and Mike was in the third wave of runners at 10am, reserved for those expected to run the fastest times. This meant he’d spend much of the race catching people who had either a two or four hour head start.

Mike started conservatively and was a few minutes behind the leaders after two miles. This was the plan and we were glad to see he didn’t feel the need to zoom off at the start and was saving his energy. Most runners wore mainly white to reflect the heat, except last year’s winner, Zach Gingerich, who had a blue top with long, baggy orange shorts and led from the start. Mike had plenty of lycra to reduce chaffing, bandanas to give him an ‘ice turban’ plus more ice on his neck and around his chest. Everything we could do to keep him cool would help, even with the lower temperatures than usual (‘merely’ 115F).

The crew was kept busy switching his small water bottles using the multiple ice coolers and enough water in the cars to fill a swimming pool. We had a huge selection of food for both Mike and ourselves and tried to offer it as and when he requested. This became easier after Furnace Creek at 17 miles since we could then pace him and carry a walkie-talkie to relay instructions through to the main van in advance of him arriving.

I hadn’t expected to be running through Death Valley with a radio in one hand, a spray filled with iced water in another and gels, bandanas or whatever else he wanted in pockets or balanced in our hands. For some reason I thought it’d be fairly easy to pace and crew this race, but it was great from my perspective that we were all more involved. It felt more like we were in the race. Except, any time we got tired we could just sit in the air-con of the van and relax. None of us ever ran more than about 3-4 miles at a time with him and had plenty of time to recover.

The first 42 miles are basically flat to Stovepipe Wells, but were hot and hard enough to cause multiple finisher and winner, Pam Reed, to have to drop out. Mike looked strong at this point and we had an ice bath ready for him to help cool him down. Given that conditions weren’t quite as bad as they could be, we hoped he wouldn’t need too many of these but the use of the radios meant we could always have one ready for him if he needed it.

After Stovepipe Wells, which is really only a hotel, store and gas station, Mike had the first of the three serious climbs. In addition, this was the hottest part of the day and a headwind of frazzling air increased the difficulty by drying out his eyes, nose and mouth. A good way to describe this section is a 5,000ft climb over 18 miles in dry sauna conditions with a hairdryer blowing in your face. Luckily for the pacers, we had Mike to block the hot wind so we could focus on spraying water on his upper body. During this section, Mike and I also popped out Spiderman masks for a photo (which I'm trying to get hold of now), in reference to us both breaking the Guinness World Record for Fastest Superhero in a Marathon (me first then Mike smashed it the following weekend).

It got marginally cooler as we climbed and it was starting to get dark by the top. Mike was still talking and in great spirits. So much so that we let him jog the downhill on his own since he was moving reasonably fast and we wanted to save our own energy to keep as fresh as possible when the sleep deprivation set in. It’s extremely important for the crew to look after themselves as well as the runner since nobody wants to be a drag on the person who is actually in the event. We all wanted to be able to jump to help every time he needed it.

I had my first break as nightfall hit. Mike didn’t get any of these, but I fitted in a meal at Panamint Springs which is the third desert outpost along the course, at 72 miles. Mike came through around fourth place and still looked good as the second long climb started in the dark.

It was now completely dark but with almost a full moon to light the road enough to see. Everyone, including Mike, had red flashing lights on front and back for safety, but while the moon stayed visible we didn’t need a headlamp.

This climb was slower although Mike did move into third place along the way. There was more walking as the miles started to take their toll, even with the temperatures hitting as low as the 60s. From this point it was all about survival and maintaining the body through fuelling and electrolytes. This meant we constantly reminded Mike to eat, even though he had no appetite.

Mike was passed by the eventual winner, Oswaldo Lopez, along this climb. Oswaldo had looked pretty exhausted 30 miles earlier but was now fresh and moving at a great pace. We wished him well then continued the hard slog uphill. Soon after Mike felt so bad he had to walk even in the mild heat and on the flat. These are the times that really test the runners and make the difference between losing a lot of time and getting a second wind. Mike is mentally as tough as can be but couldn’t stomach food so it was difficult to turn him around and get him back to feeling more comfortable. After more walking he was able to eat a little and soon came back to us and ran again.

The hour before dawn is meant to be one of the hardest in any ultra due to the lack of sleep and time on the feet to this point. But at the first hint of light Mike perked right up. He started running fast enough to tire the other guys pacing him and I stepped in to sit behind him, offering anything he needed. Amusingly, he was listening to music and started accelerating even more as the songs got into his blood. He was in a zone and we’d covered over 100 miles, but still had plenty left so it was too early for any kind of sprint finish. But Mike was in third and wanted to go for the win so he went with it, even throwing in surges which stretched out my legs more than I wanted to at this point.

I then switched out, told the other guys to not bother pacing until he slowed (mainly because he was going so fast it’d just tire us out too much) and took a break while the others agreed to stop every half mile for him, given the lack of a pacer mule. Instead, I went ahead to see where first and second were and to time the gap to Mike.

By the time Mike got to me he was just over an hour off the lead and had around 20 miles left, but he’d slowed back down to a jog. It would all come down to the last 13 miles after Lone Pine, which is basically all uphill for a winding route up to the base of Mt Whitney and the finish line. Anything can happen in ultras this long and runners can lose hours if they have serious problems. A mile can take an hour or even more and some people have to just stop and rest for long periods to sort out the damage they’ve done to themselves.

It was bright and sunny again but not too hot, especially compared to the previous day. Sub 24 hours looked possible at a stretch, but only if Mike could feel good the whole way up. We spurred him on to catch second place, who was only a couple of miles ahead. Unfortunately Mike then had his worst patch of the race and could barely walk at a crawling pace. He also couldn’t keep any food in him, which made it hard to bring him back. We were forced to stop and let him sit down, sipping water gradually.

This was the toughest part of the race for all of us. Mike was in his own personal hell while we could only sit there and wait. There was nothing we could do since even the stomach medicine or ginger ale was too much for him. If he didn’t get better soon, we’d have to suggest a lie down in the hotel after leaving a stake by the road to show where he was when he went off course (another nuance of the race).

Mike forced himself up although he wasn’t much better and decided to push through the last four miles of switchbacks. Catching second had left our radar but keeping third was now a serious task and we constantly looked over our shoulders. Seeing Mike keep going, surviving on just iced water, was inspiring and really showed the spirit of this race. I told him that if it had been easy it wouldn’t mean as much to finish. So he kept walking and did the last 3.6 miles in just over an hour, which is generally considered to be a good pace. Not many have broken an hour for the final section of climb and nobody runs it…until they see the finish line, anyway.

As he approached the last corner, all the crew joined him to jog across the finish line. This reflects that the crew has a large part to play to get their runner through it all and is a nice touch. An hour previously I wasn’t certain Mike would finish without going to the hotel first but he looked surprisingly sprightly. I think that when he accepted he wouldn’t feel any better, he just dug in to grind out those last miles without expecting to feel fine again. 26 hours 22 minutes for third place.

I was honored to be part of Mike’s race and the whole crew loved helping him achieve a great finish. It wasn’t the win he’d wanted but it also wasn’t a DNF (did not finish). I’ve never seen anyone go through such highs and lows in an ultra, but I know it is standard for this race. It was incredible to watch first-hand and harder, yet more fun, to be crewing and pacing than I’d imagined. My opinion of the race has changed slightly and I'd love to return to crew/pace, but I'd still rather run on trails and have more fun than run this whole thing myself. Plus it's not cheap - budget for around $10,000 to cover entry, travel, car hire etc for the runner plus the crew. Never say never, but I'll stick to Western States for my long run at this time of year for now...or maybe Hardrock if I can get an entry.

Full results on the race website here. And a Washington Post article on Mike and two other runners is here (it includes the only copy of the photo of the two Spidermen).