I’ve been thinking a lot about the downsides of this sport,
as evident in my last post about the role of Pessimism, but largely as a result
of all the months I spent injured and burnt out after completing Bryce Canyon
100 Mile in June of last year. For the
first couple months, I was injured with a pulled groin muscle which I ran on
for over 30 miles at Bryce, and then spent another couple months afraid of my
own shadow as I half-heartedly went out for training runs, rarely ever going
past 30 mile training weeks, as I feared re-injuring myself so soon. Thus began my “Old Man of the Trail” mindset,
where I would advocate to anyone seeking advice to slow it down and consider
dropping to the lower distance as they were contemplating going for 100 Milers;
always done with the best of intentions and careful analysis of their racing
histories, I might add, but couldn’t help feeling like a bit of nag and a
hypocrite, considering the 100 Milers I’ve done where you could’ve put up a
good argument for why I shouldn’t have attempted them when I did. These anxieties were what I would be carrying
into my first Ultra for 2015, on a return trip to the new and improved and more
fearsome Run Lovit 100K held at the beautiful and brutal Lake Ouachita Vista
Trails in Arkansas.
I fell in love with Arkansas last year running in the
inaugural Run Lovit 100K, living in Texas, it’s hard to find heavily forested
and Mountainous trails, and all while running alongside numerous flowing creeks
and a huge and gorgeous Lake Ouachita; the trail stewards there (known as the
Trail Dogs) have certainly put in a lot of care and thoughtfulness in creating
a breathtakingly beautiful trail (every bench you come across is a photo worthy
moment!), not to mention a constantly challenging one made up of wearingly hard
climbs and ankle twisting rocks, it’s a beauty you will have to earn. I earned the right last year to drink in its
beauty, and then some, by running in one of the hardest races of my life, all
on a badly sprained ankle that I incurred on the very first mile, that took
every strength I had, and lots of encouragement and prodding by my pacer,
Elizabeth Kimble, to finish. I credit
the finish last year at Run Lovit (my 2014 Race Report) as the main motivating factor that really
bolstered my confidence enough to take on Bryce Canyon 100 Mile later that
year; now that I’m officially in for the Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run
in September, I could use that same motivating boost again to kick off a half
year gauntlet of training for that Monster of a race.
With all that said, I was on the fence about another go at
Run Lovit 100K until just a few months before the race, as mentioned above, my
dealings with injuries and burnout after Bryce was some of the worst I’ve
experienced yet in the over three years of running Ultras. After 4 months or so of running 20-30 mile
weeks, I hadn’t begun to seriously train for Ultras again till around December
of last year, and had only completed one slow 50K race (Lost Loop at Lake
Texoma) since, with another DNF at Big Cedar 50K (got horribly rained out and
treacherously muddy) in November, and after both events my injuries would slightly
re-aggravate and continue to drive my anxieties about signing up for Run
Lovit. What finally pushed me into
signing up for Run Lovit was a decent showing at Athens Big Fork Marathon in
January, while that race got flooded out and we had to opt for a course through
back country roads, it was a fun 25 mile romp with friends (that didn’t end up
with my injuries returning, thankfully); also if Elizabeth was brave enough to throw her
hat into the new 100 Mile course there, I should start throwing caution into
the wind again myself, I immediately signed up for Run Lovit 100K
when I got home from ABF.
Along with the new addition of a 100 Mile course at Run
Lovit this year, the 100K race course itself had been significantly changed
from last year; gone was the flatter 20 miles of pleasant rolling hills in the
first half the race last year that I loved, in was the new 14 mile out and back
hilly section, past the Brady Mt road aid station, that I loved even more. While the 100K course had been made
significantly harder, with around 1,700ft in additional climbing upping the
elevation gain/loss to around 8-9K ft total (per Garmin measurements, the race
site has it officially listed at 12K ft, but I didn’t feel it was anywhere that
high), it was also made shorter by about 4 miles, down to 60 miles officially,
but no matter, I was really excited about these changes, and with an earlier
start time, I would finally get to see a lot of sections that I missed last
year that I had to run completely in the dark.
Newly motivated, and with a healthy dose of fear of the new changes, I
had a good burst of training in the weeks leading up to the race to ease my
worries heading in, but that would all turn to moot though, as terrible weather
of freezing rain was projected to take a massive dump on race day *sigh*.
I drove up early (from Dallas) to see the 100 Milers off,
with their races starting the day before mine at 6pm, I couldn’t help but
notice how insane these hardy group of 13 brave souls were for even showing up;
by the time I arrived at the race site, I wasn’t so much as shocked to find out
that a third of the 100K runners had already dropped out the race, as I was
that hardly any of the 100 Milers did the same (only one dropped to the 100K
distance, that I know of)! As a famous
Vulcan would say (RIP Leonard Nimoy), it’s illogical to want to run a 100
Miles, it takes a willful determined sense of stubbornness against all the odds
to believe you can finish a 100 Miler, a trait I know all too well, but with
the prospects of starting in freezing cold temps, and running through the pouring
rain and foggy conditions of that hellish night, I seriously doubt I would have
toed the starting line if my legs were in shape to do so…brave souls
indeed. After a good night’s sleep, it
would be my turn to brave the trails and harsh conditions at the still quite
epic 100K distance.
 |
| The few, the brave, the 100 Milers at the start. |
The first four miles or so of the race was pretty
uneventful, as we started the first mile on a road that led to a long climb up
a bumpy back country road that stretched on for another 3 miles, all while ran
in the dark due to the 6am start time.
Day started to break within an hour, which nicely coincided with a gorgeous
view up Hickory Nut
Mountain overlooking Lake Ouachita,
I was loving the new course design already.
After another mile of dirt and gravel roads, you finally get a taste of
winding single track trails running down Hickory Nut
Mountain; these were some
of my favorite stretches of the course, and your legs finally get the chance to
really open up after all the long climbs on roads. For the first 8 miles or so, the weather was
perfect, not too cold and only the occasional drizzle, maybe the 100K runners
were saved from the worst of it, but then the rain’s came, followed by the
freezing cold…ugh, and to imagine, the 100 Milers had to put up with this all
night I thought to myself while I was running with my head down for an hour or
so of downpour, hoping to keep freezing rain from dripping into my hooded
jacket.
 |
| The views from up top Hickory Nut Mountain in the early morning |
 |
| Running down the switchbacks of Hickory Nut Mountain |
The rain started to let up by the time I reached the Crystal
Springs Aid Station at Mile 12; I foolishly stopped to change into dry socks,
considering just a quarter mile later I would have to get my feet wet again
crossing the many creeks past this section, and headed out for Big Bear
Mountain with a friend, Deb Baker. After
three miles of cursing the multiple creek crossings, we started the slow 600 ft
climb up Big Bear Mountain; me and Deb were both in the lottery for entry into
Wasatch 100 Mile (she didn’t get in), with her running it last year (sadly
resulting in a DNF), so I enjoyed the chance to ask all sorts of questions
about the race and her motivations about wanting to run it. It was a frankly sobering conversation,
admittedly, I haven’t looked up much about Wasatch, it has always been a
mythical beast of a race that was too far off in the realm of possibility, that
I never bothered to, and that I also feared I would never have the guts to
enter it if I really had looked into the race…ignorance is bliss sometimes. Basically Wasatch was a lot of climbs, a lot
of sand, a lot of rocks, a lot of altitude, and a lot of scorching heat…great,
I had to finish Run Lovit now, or I would have no business being in the running
for Wasatch in the first place.
 |
| Following Deb...not always successfully. |
Deb and I, ran together for another 4 miles or so on top of
the ridgeline over Big Bear Mountain, which looked like an otherworldly
dreamscape in the thick fog, before I had to drop back for good; 18-19 hilly
miles into the race was when it all started going downhill for me, with both of
my knees experiencing chronic soreness that I just couldn’t shake…maybe it was
much too soon to tackle a race of this difficulty after all. At Mile 23, resting and trying to cool down
my knees at the Brady Mountain Rd A/S, I inquired about how Elizabeth was
doing, and they informed me she was going to drop at the turnaround point at
the Avery Rec A/S after a difficult time due to injuries, all through the next
7 miles I would consider doing the same, as my knees were getting progressively
worse. I tried pushing thoughts of
dropping out of my head as I headed out, which was made easier considering how
gorgeous the new 7 mile section was, which was helped with the fog finally
lifting and the Sun making random appearances through the clouds for the first
time.
 |
| Trail running through the fog... |
Holy creek crossings Batman (apologies), they were
everywhere for the first couple miles, criss-crossing every which way, it was
all quite beautiful to run into them, but I dreaded having to get my feet wet
so much (and especially on the return trip!), it’s a miracle I managed to
survive the race without blisters, I love my Altra Lone Peaks 2.0! As mentioned previously, this section can be
really hilly and also very technical, so there wasn’t much opportunity to run
if I had wanted to, I even started welcoming the climbs, as it hurt my knees
going downhill even more. The geology
nerd in me loved this section for all the unique moss covered rocks and
boulders all along the trail, not to mention this was the first time it was clear
daylight to notice everything during the race, so I didn’t mind the slow pace I
was going too much, while taking pictures every 100 yards or so. It was about a mile from the turnaround point
at Avery Rec A/S that I started to run into some familiar faces that I knew
were running the 100 Mile, first Jeremy Day, who was hurting, but I wasn’t
surprised to see him continuing on, for all my worries about Wasatch, he’s out
here training for the Bigfoot 200 Mile race in August! I was a little shocked, however, to see
Elizabeth pressing on…well, hell, if she’s still out here determined to finish
the 100 Mile, what’s a 100K in comparison.
 |
| Curse these tranquil creeks... |
For just the briefest moment at my pit stop at Avery Rec
A/S, I considered dropping, I just couldn’t run anymore with my sore knees, and
there was no way I would make the cutoff’s if they weren’t extended, and if
they were extended, did I really want to face the prospect of having to power-hike
for the next 30 very hilly and technical Miles, with multiple creek crossings
in the cold, cold night? In a way, I’ve
missed all these agonizing back and forth questioning of myself on the will to
continue, you’re not in an Ultra until you start having them; as I’ve done many
times in the past, you just have to suck it up and press on, damn the
consequences. I left Avery at about 8:15
hrs into the race, with a strong power-hike averaging a solid 18-22 min/mile,
even over hilly and technical trails, maybe there was a way I could make it to
Crystal Springs A/S not too far past the official cutoff of 14 hours
there. About a mile or so back to the
Brady Mountain A/S, I caught up to an older guy I ran on an off with all day
named Bill, who informed me that he was dropping and had his wife waiting there
to pick him up; it was so tempting to hitch a ride with him back to my car, but
the volunteer at the A/S, Josh, informed me that they were definitely extending
the cutoffs, and with a bag of some amazing crackers he handed me, off I went
to ride along the Big Bear once more.
 |
| Some additional photos on the return trip from Avery, including a rare cameo of the Sun! |
 |
| I have a thing for moss covered rocks... |
I had wanted to continue on anyway, even if it resulted in
me being pulled from the course for missing cutoffs, because it meant that I
would finally, finally, get to see
the views from Big Bear Mountain. Last
year when I ran Run Lovit, we started 2 hours later, and we didn’t hit the peak
of Big Bear Mt. until around mile 47, by then, it was already pitch black;
while my first trip over Big Bear Mt. earlier in this race was completely covered
in thick fog, with the fog cleared and with about 2 hours of daylight left, I
would finally get to see what I’ve waited over a year for. I can’t fully express how beautiful Lake
Ouachita looks from on top the ridgeline at Big Bear Mt, especially after you
have gone nearly 40 miles anticipating the views; the sense of “earning” the
privilege of taking in these beautiful sights after running many miles on tough
trails is a big part of why I love to run Ultras so much. I couldn’t take too much time enjoying the
views, however, the temperature was dropping rapidly as night approached, and
all I had on was a T-shirt and a thin hooded rain jacket, I needed to push my
power-hiking as fast as I could in order to keep my core temperature from
dropping (gave up trying to run a long time ago…).
 |
| Was hard to get a clear shot of the lake with the many trees in the way, by the time I got an unobstructed view from up top Big Bear Mt, it was already getting dark. |
After some furious power-hiking through the night, and many more freezing cold creek crossings that were now knee deep because of all the rains, I made it
to Crystal Springs A/S (Mile 48) in around 14:20 hrs, only 20 minutes after the official
cutoff, not bad I thought to myself; I immediately noticed Jeremy and Elizabeth
was still there as well, and wanted to say hi, but not before the Volunteers
informed me that I only had 5 minutes left to get out of Dodge. “You got to be kidding me”, I blurted out as
I scrambled to find my drop bag to put on extra layers and fish out my headlamp
and other supplies. I was under the impression I would have much more time than
that (they extended final cutoffs for several hours last year), but no matter,
after I gathered my things, I stuffed as much food into my mouth as I could,
and barely made it out in time with Elizabeth and her pacer (Jeremy had already
left a few minutes earlier).
I was happy to have some company to hike with after spending
the last 12 miles mostly by myself, and I was also curious about how
Elizabeth’s race had been going up to that point; after finding out, I was a
bit taken aback by just how bad of a shape she was in and her many struggles
throughout the day (you can read all about it in her own race report). With all my ruminations lately about the
potentially damaging consequences of running Hundred Milers (especially ones
with lots of elevation change like Run Lovit), I couldn’t help but ask her why she’s
still even out here. It was
inappropriate to ask someone at mile 80 something that question (God knows I’ve
been through worse at that point, and still carried on), and I’ve apologized
for it, but I wasn’t so much as questioning her decision to continue with the
race, but rather the point of 100 Milers in the first place and whether putting
ourselves through the extreme struggle and pain required to finish them is even
worth it…hell, I’ve been writing this blog for 3 years now trying to answer
that very question! Both of my Hundred
Mile finishes required fighting through extreme pain and injuries in order to
finish, not to mention the lengthy 2-3 months of recovery periods from those
injuries. Seeing Elizabeth go through so
much to finish her race was equally inspiring and terrifying at the same time;
I realized my own anxieties about Wasatch was boiling over, and I knew all too
well that I would have to go through such pain and suffering and risk serious
injuries all over again in order to finish that Monster…It was a sobering
realization that, mentally, I’m still not quite recovered from Bryce.
After about 4 miles together, our respective races split off
into different directions and I wished Elizabeth luck on the finish; with 8
miles left, all I needed was to make it over Hickory Nut Mountain one last
time, and it’s all downhill to the finish; simple enough I thought to myself…it
ended up taking me nearly three hours to cover the final 8 Miles. For the long and slow climb up Hickory Nut Mountain,
I was fortunate to have some company along most of the way, with a new friend
Yoni and her pacer Andi (whom I’ve only known through Facebook up to this
point), because climbing a 650ft Mountain on 50+ mile legs can be maddeningly
slow. Upon arriving at the Aid Station
up top Hickory Nut Mt, I let a loud “Whoo”, as the Volunteers had put on a blue
laser display along with a crackling fire; the patience and dedication of the
Volunteers were amazing all through the race, with some of them being out here
since well before the 100 Milers had started, I thanked them one last time and
headed off, after 17 hours of being on my feet, I was ready to get this last 4
miles over with and be done.
The last 4 miles was mostly all downhill and flats from
Hickory Nut Mountain, there was a chance I could finish under the official 18
hour cutoff I thought to myself, but that didn’t turn out to be any where near
the case. The dirt road was a lot more
technical than I remembered, and all the rains had turned it into a slushy
muddy slope that was often-times treacherous to walk down, I spent the next 3
miles worried about twisting my ankle on all the loose rocks, while trying to
keep my balance on the downhill mud slide.
By the end of that long slog, I was at my wits end, begging for any
signs of the last mile road to the finish, kind of fearful at times of being
lost, even while going in a straight-line because it dragged on for seemingly
forever. Reaching the hard pavement of
that last mile road to the finish, after being on a trail for 59 miles, sucked
the life out of me, I was done, but with still a mile left to go…I zombied it
in to finish in 18:31 Hrs.
My performance at this race wasn’t anything to brag about,
but I’m thankful that I decided to push on anyway and grind out a finish at all
cost. At the end of my Bryce Canyon 100 Mile race report, I wrote that the finish there took so much out of me, that it
may take a long, long time to regenerate the will to go through such
experiences again; my stubborn will has not quite recovered yet, as I found out
during this race, but finishing Run Lovit 100K in less than ideal circumstances
(now that’s an understatement) has gone a long way into regenerating my spirit
as I begin the long march towards Wasatch Front 100 Mile. At the finish line, warming up under blankets
and some hot delicious Vegan soup (I must have eaten my fill all through the day
to make up for the Race entry fees alone), I wanted to stay and see Jeremy and
Elizabeth finish their 100 Milers, but I knew they wouldn’t be done for several
hours well past the official cutoff of 30 Hours (I hear talk that they may extend
the cutoffs for next year…), and had to get some sleep before driving back home
to Dallas; congrats on their hard won finishes, I couldn’t imagine the lengths
they had to go through to finish their races in tough conditions, it’s
something I’ll have to keep in mind as I continue to chase my own impossible
goals. Thanks again to Dustin and Rachel
Speer and all the Volunteers who organized this fantastic event, the Lake
Ouachita Vista Trail system is an absolute gem, and I would encourage anyone,
especially those living in the southern states that may have a hard time flying
out to Utah or the Pacific States to experience the Mountain races there, to
consider Run Lovit in their racing schedules.
