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.

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).