Lone Star 100: An Unexpected Journey

Never would I have thought that Texas has mountains. In fact, if you had asked me, I probably would have laughed and said, "no way!" This changed when I came across a local race in El Paso called Lone Star 100. Rob Gurney created a masterpiece of a course comprising of 3 loops in Franklin Mountain State Park, averaging about 34 miles per loop. In fact, the course starts at about 4,000 feet of elevation and you climb to just about 7,200 at the highest point on North Franklin Peak. The elevation is one thing but the scree fields you go on are a whole different playing field.

When I registered for Lone Star 100 3 weeks before the start, I knew going in that finishing was my number one priority. Truth is I haven't ran a 100 miler since June of 2018. No doubt going in the pain cave was a fleeting memory, but something I missed and so finishing was really all I cared about. My second goal was to control the stomach. Historically GU and other sugary foods never really did the trick for me. It is good for 20-40 miles, but then my body starts to puke incessantly. This ruined my last 100 attempt at Superior in Minnesota when I couldn't keep anything down. I was super dizzy and seeing doubles of everything. It all centralized around nutrition. So, going in, I was willing to experiment a bit and forego the GU. Although a bit risky, I don't believe in insanity in doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I'm a firm believer that growth means change and change involves risk, stepping from the known to the unknown. That unknown for me in this race was baby food, and boy did that pay dividends, but more on that later.

I was also lucky in that my good friend, Mark, was willing to tag along. I met Mark in San Diego and he has been instrumental in figuring out nutrition and helping me look at it totally different than I had before. Although he doesn't prefer running, we did go on a few hikes with me and was really intrigued with the sport and wanted to tag along to which I had no qualms. It is also worth mentioning that he was fantastic at crewing and knew what I needed before I got there-a rare trait for someone who's never done the sport!

To the start. The "race" started at 5:00 AM MT. Surprisingly, I slept great the night before which isn't always the case. But now it was time to get situated and ready. When I got to the start, there were about 40 of us there. Rob sent us off and there we went!

Loop one was all about getting to know the course and taking it easy. Since I wasn't approaching this as a race but something to just finish, I certainly didn't push the pace at the start. I followed a core group of people up the initial incline, and boy was it an incline. Not only that, but it was loose rocks that were super slippery. Since I don't really study course descriptions before a race, it is always a little surprise of what I'm actually in for. This start was also how we would finish and I had to do this section six times. The 5.5 miles is just a quick loop, that aside from that first climb, was fairy simple (all relative to the course, of course). I met a girl named Rachel who didn't finish last year and that was what she was gunning for (and glad to say she eventually did!)-to make it to the finish. 

After passing Rachel I continued making my way up to the group leaders of about 5. This included Alyson and the eventual 2nd place male. We were making good headway and we got to a flat section. This eventually led to a gradual incline and there we were-back to the beginning! It is also worth noting that the 100k runners were about to start. So 5.5 miles had taken about an hour. 

This is where the fun really started. I got my things and started to head to the steepest part of the entire course. Below is a pic for reference:

The scree section reminds me of a lot of Ouray's technical down hill, but worse. It is like an old Disney movie where there is a beautiful paved road with flowers and butterflies that leads to the dark lord's fortress. However, with any good classic Disney movie, there was success getting up it. I was blessed to hike this section with Alyson. Alyson happened to win the women's division the past 2 years and would be the eventual champion again for her third straight win. She knew the course well and communicated that being sub 24 hours on this course was her goal. When I heard this, I knew she meant to win it outright. 

Prior to coming here, I did see that there were only 3 sub 24 hour times on this course and 2/3 were the same guy, Karl Meltzer, the same guy who has won more 100s than anyone alive. He also has the 2nd fastest known time doing all 2,200 miles of the Appalachian Trail. Basically, sub 24 seemed other-worldly to me, but was very impressed with Alyson's fortitude. I think it brushed on me a little bit too.

We also started talking about other races that we did as we both were dodging the jagged rocks, walking straight up the highest point of the race, North Franklin Peak. However, before getting there we would have to stop at Mundy's Gap Aid Station which was about halfway up. Although this section to that aid station was only about 2.5 miles, you would think that would be no time. However, when you go straight up it can take a while.

After connecting with Alyson, I was surprisingly feeling pretty good and decided to march on. I honestly had no intention of taking the lead for the sole purpose of trying to win, but more because I felt good and I know that my bad spells would come later so needed to use the highs while I had them.

With that said, I continued climbing straight up and it eventually flattened out to a forest service road which then connected to the aid station about 400 meters out. After getting there, the sunrise was beginning to come out. I restocked my water and headed to the top. I was being very intentional with the foods that I ate. This section was baby food which consisted of bananas and blueberries. I was very pleased with this combo and was glad to report that it packed 90 calories-not bad!

Getting to the top of this aid station seemed to take forever. There were loads of false summits but I could tell it was getting beautiful out as the sky made a bright orange and red color. This is also where I noticed Jesse Ellis taking pics. Below is my view from about 7,000 feet:

Once I got to the top, I noticed the tower and the orange box that you had to open to retrieve the bracelet to prove you were at the top before heading back to Mundy's Gap Aid Station. It was white. I put it on my wrist and took off back down the mountain. Close to summit was Alyson and we fist bumped as I headed back down the steep peak. From here it was down, down, down for quite some time. I wasn't too disappointed in that since we had just climbed for what seemed like forever.

After getting near the bottom, I was passing quite a few other runners. We gave each other our condolences. It made me feel better that everyone was feeling the mountain a little bit. I'll admit that I didn't train vertically as much as I would have liked, but this was also just a massive experiment with training that consisted mostly of 2-3 hour runs once a week, several walks throughout the day, and a lot of rest peppered in throughout the week. It was amazing what some rest will accomplish.

After bombing down that section, I got back to Mundy's Gap and attempted to give them my white bracelet. They said to give it to the people at the start which meant I had to wear it for another 20ish miles. It was time to go to Bowen. This was probably my favorite part. You continued to bomb down the forest service road on a slight downhill, non-technical trail. This section was about 7.5 miles. I thrived here. After the sun was coming up, I decided to take off my gloves as I was running downhill and stuffed them in my bag. About 50 minutes into this section I was noticing that I didn't have my bracelet anymore- it had disappeared! Go figure! I go through all of this trouble and have no actual proof that I made it to the summit. All of the good that I was feeling that day disappeared within a moment's notice.

I figured that my story of bumping fists with Alyson at the top and trying to give the bracelet to the Mundy's Gap Aid Station people was compelling enough to at least make a case in case they wanted to disqualify me. However, to be in first and not show that I made it to the top made me feel like a legitimate cheater even though that was far from the case. Most people in this sport I like to think don't cut corners given the distance covered and the mentality of why we even enter these things. It just doesn't make sense. Thankfully this never became an issue. With that said, I was frantic in explaining to Mark when I got to Bowen that I did in fact go to the top of Franklin Peak and had lost it on the last section. He seemed as cool as cucumber hearing it and I felt like a frantic mess.

After restocking here it was time to head to West Aid Station. This section was probably my least favorite. It was gradual uphill for about 3 miles and then up and down for 3.5 miles and then mostly downhill the last mile. It just seemed to take forever. Although there wasn't a lot of climbing in this section, I did feel that I made good progress. I did however drink 2 liters of water on this section and was out with about a mile to the aid station. This section was also completely deserted. I passed no people all 3 loops on this section and was in complete solitude. I continued to eat the baby food that I picked up and learned that although I can get mango, apple, and carrot down, it wasn't my favorite but it certainly beat puking it up which likely would have been the case if it were GU.

On the final mile there were two women who seemed pretty happy to see someone. They were like "we were wondering if any people were going to come." Needless to say I felt like a king as they got everything I could possibly want. After thanking them, I took off on the last section back to the start/finish. This section was about 7.5 miles and this too seemed to take an eternity. At this point you could see North Franklin Peak way out in the distance and I knew that I had to go all the way back there since that is where the start/finish was. I pressed on and found this section to be fairly flat. 

About 2/3 of the way there I ran into a mountain biker who was out with some friends, but he was by himself at the time. He made small talk and asked how much I was running. I told him and he about lost his mind. He couldn't believe it. He then started to follow me and talk. I had no qualms chatting, but I also can be a very focused runner and feel I can come across as very stern at times. He eventually saw his friends and stopped following me and hung out with them. I pressed on. Right towards the end of this loop there was a diversion in the trail. It was very confusing as to which way I should go. I was completely out of water at this point and it didn't seem to make sense. Although I didn't have a lot of lows in this race, this was undoubtedly the lowest the entire time. I contemplated going the way the sign seemed to be pointing but that just didn't make sense given where the other trail led. 

After waiting a few minutes, the bikers had caught up. I stopped them and asked if they knew which way. Being locals, they advised how far each trail was and they suggested I go the way that the sign said not to go. Oddly enough this was my intuition from the get-go and took their advice (this was after already running to the top of the hill that this goes and thinking I had done this wrong and ran back to the bottom of the diversion). After taking their advice I went back up the hill and hoped that I had gone the right way.

I went up the stairs and passed a few hikers and asked if they knew, which they didn't. I trusted my instinct on this and pressed on. This was the section that had about 5-6 false summits and was extremely technical. However, I was still feeling pretty good and bombed down the technical downhill into the aid station. I vocalized that I got lost and spent about 10-15 minutes on that section trying to figure out which way to go. Rob and the team apologized and went to the course to make the change. For once I had selected the right way!

Time for lap 2. As I restocked my food supply, I headed back to the top of the hill for the 5.5 mile loop. I passed Alyson and she was looking pretty good. This section went by fairly quickly and I was back at the start.

Time to go back up to North Franklin Peak and the super gnarly climb. On the road section, there was a lady by the name of Sandy who asked if I was Nick. I told her that I was and she said "Connie from Hawaii says hello!" It was a major pick-me-up as I continued onward and really made me miss Connie. Connie was a friend that I stayed with in Hawaii as I ran HURT 100. She also helped me celebrate my birthday while I was there. Nothing but fond memories and something I was very appreciative of as I was about 35 miles into the race. 

Up the steep incline I went and to Mundy's Gap Aid Station. I quickly refilled my water and headed to the actual summit. This section did seem to take forever. Although it isn't as steep as the other section to get here, this one just took forever and was very deceiving as you constantly wondered where the top was. However, just with any other race, one foot in front of the other develops the best results. At this point the sun too was high in the sky. I checked my watch for the second time the entire day and it was about 2:30 PM. Not bad to bag this peak by that time.

Down, down, down was the next part. I saw Alyson pretty close to Mundy's Gap Aid Station, but she was just starting her ascent and I was nearly completing mine. I could tell that I made solid progress on this section. I also made sure that the white bracelet that I had I held onto for dear life. Heaven forbid I show up to the start/finish twice without the bracelet (they never did ask the first time).

From here it was down, down, down. There were a few hikers out there and some mountain bikers who were very chatty. Not sure if it is a Texas thing or the fact that all of us runners looked a little worn down that made everyone want to stop and ask us questions. Nonetheless, I really appreciated the hello's and found it very uplifting. That and the fact I had to give little effort on this downhill. One thing I didn't consider is although it felt like a free pass to go down, down, down, I forgot the impact that this would have on my quads later down the road. 

 

I continued to eat my baby food and orange shot blocks (which work incredible by the way), and got to Bowen Aid Station. I was now halfway through the course. I reconnected with Mark, restocked my food supply and water, and headed back out to West. I'll admit that I did walk a bit more on this section, but was happy to do so given that I had just bombed down the last section and felt I had made tremendous progress.

About halfway through this section my stomach demanded that I use the restroom. With very little notice I pulled over to use the bathroom. It is in situations like this that I'm always grateful that I carry some tp. You never know when mother nature will strike and you have to be prepared. Also, I was very happy it was an issue from that end and not the other. Traditionally I puke my guts out and this seemed like a happy alternative. I suspect that the baby food I ate all day caused this to happen.

After taking care of business, I pressed on. I climbed the final mountain and could then oversee the entire downhilll section that I had to go on to get to West Aid Station. I pressed on downhill and got to the aid station. There were two individuals. An older gentleman and a lady I'd guess in her 30s and they were very surprised to see me. The complimented me on the progress that I was making and quickly got me the supplies I thought I needed for the final push to the start/finish. 

I took the gear and headed out. Thankfully at this point I knew exactly what was in front of me, including which way the route goes. It was just a matter of sustaining and not doing anything abnormally stupid. The good news with this course is that it does force you to slow down on sections and therefore you can conserve energy. I continued on and at this point it was a beautiful 70 degrees and all sun. There was no shade on this course, so, although it isn't super warm, it did bake you under the sun. My water supply again ran out, but at least I knew where I was and that I was close to the start/finish.

After getting there, Mark had my gear ready to go. This lap I decided that I was going to take my trekking poles. I would forego them the first 5.5 miles since it was relatively flat, but I would take them for the super technical section up to Mundy's Gap. At this point I had my headlamp so things were moving a little slower, but this also meant that everyone else was slowing down too. 

I finished the 5.5 miles and grabbed my trekking poles. This also was a first for me too. I have never used trekking poles in a race before and now I feel cheated from everyone who has used them against me before. They are a complete game changer, especially on courses where it is straight vertical and your legs are toast. Uphill became my strong point and downhill was somewhat of a struggle. After slogging my way to the top of Mundy's Gap, I was passing quite a few other runners at this point. It was a combination of both 100 milers and 100kers. Most of them were on lap 2 and I was lucky enough to be on my last.

When I got to the aid station most thought that I was doing the 100k and when I told them it was the 100 miler, they too lost their minds. It made me feel pretty good given that it felt like I had taken an extremely long time getting to the top of this section and I still had to get to the top of the peak.

After restocking my water, I continued to eat more baby food and walk up the the final stretch to the peak. It felt great knowing that this was my last time having to climb this. To think that the 200 mile people had to do this 6 times instead of 3 was absolutely astounding to me. It certainly made my struggle less of a struggle when compared to what they were enduring.

After passing lots of people, I finally made it to the top. The view of El Paso at night was absolutely incredible. Below is a pic for reference:

We also were warned quite regularly that the peak was extremely windy and to proceed with caution. Personally, I thought the wind wasn't that bad thanks to my Patagonia Houdini jacket, but it certainly picked up at the very top. After opening the orange chest to retrieve my bracelet, I noticed that they were completely out. I did a double search but couldn't find any. Great! Hopefully this doesn't come back to haunt me. 

As I headed back down the peak, I passed a couple of others and asked if they had a bracelet. They admitted that there weren't any and they asked for my number just in case I get scrutinized for not having it. I appreciated they were willing to do so. After getting to Mundy's Gap for the final time, I refilled my bottles and headed to Bowen.

From here I felt like I was flying. However, with my most races at night time it always feels like you're running a 5 minute mile but it probably closer to 13-14 minute. Regardless I felt great on this section and passed more people here than at any other part of the course. About halfway to Bowen, I passed a group of 4 which had two men and 2 women. The one guy yelled "and here is your 100 mile champion!" At this point I was jamming out to "Lonely Together" by Avicci but did manage to make out what he said. The wind also seemed to really pick up at this point as well. 

One thing I noticed with the trekking poles is they engage your upper body more. Given that my legs were fairly well toast at this point, the trekking poles were incredible for running up the small inclines on this section. Usually I hate these sections late in a course when the uphill is short enough and not steep enough to run but you have nothing left, the trekking poles were a fantastic alternative. I was essentially running the uphills now and still somewhat cruising on the downhill.

I entered Bowen and saw Mark about .1 miles from the aid station. He was, I guess, trying to blind me with his headlamp as I was coming in, and I tried playing the game of losing him to the aid station. My effort must have been valiant because he admitted he was having a hard time keeping up and didn't think I should have looked this good, which is something I agreed with.

We got in the tent and could hear the entire thing just howling with the wind. I was wondering if the whole tent was going to blow away. I gave him my bottles and he refilled them as I munched on Oreos. I couldn't believe how easy Oreos went down. They were a God send. They have so many calories and they taste incredible, I was in awe of how much they helped (and in fact I carried a bag of them the past two aid stations as I was tired of baby food). Mark asked if I was done with my trekking poles and I quickly advised that I wasn't and took off to West. About .5 mile into this section, I went for a drink of my water only to learn that it was Heed!

Heed is an electrolyte mix that some runners take but that I personally don't believe in at all. Mark had accidentally filled both liters with heed instead of water. This was somewhat of a problem given this is one of the longer sections and I had been running out of water to begin with on the first two laps. Suddenly I became a little annoyed, but then realized it was an honest mistake and that I easily could have made the same error. Both the water and the heed are in the same container and not as well marked as it could have been. The only downfall here is I would have to trudge on with no water. I did take a few sips of the heed on this section, but I think my optimistic outlook overpowered the negative one that I was feeling.

I pressed on and took a few sips of the heed. The wind was ferocious up high and I was glad that I wasn't having to go back to the top of Franklin Peak and endure that a bit more. I still continued eating but cut that down given that I didn't want to get super thirsty on this section. I was lucky in that it was night time and the sun that was beating down on me earlier in the day had subsided and a full moon had taken over for the light. I really could have done the night section without a headlamp if I wanted. Obviously not the most intelligent decision to do so, but good to know that that was an option. Seeing the time, I knew that I had a fighting chance of getting under 24 hours and that is exactly what I wanted to strive for.

After going up and down throughout this entire section, I was getting pretty thirsty. I just had to get to West Aid Station and then the finish would be the final stop. I got to the final ascent of this section and started downhill. I could tell my quads were absolutely obliterated at this point and I wasn't moving too well. All of the downhill that I bombed down had definitely caught up. I'll admit that I didn't train as much for this race as I should have and that was a contributing factor, but I also know that mile 80 to the end presented all unique challenges of their own. I could see lights out in the distance and knew that was the aid station.

After moving slowly downhill, I could also tell that there were blisters forming on the inside of my toenails. This tends to happen when I bash against rocks all day. I'm blessed in that some ultrarunners really have terrible foot blisters throughout the day, and, aside from these blisters, there was nothing major happening to my body.

I finally got to West Aid Station and restocked my supplies. After standing for a couple of minutes, I noticed that by not moving you do get cold very quickly. I got enough Oreos for the finish and continued to press on. I left this aid station at about 2:30 AM. I had 2.5 hours to get to the start/finish to be the 4th person ever to be under 24 hours on this course. I started to walk the beginning of this section as I downed some Oreos. Getting the calories in that I ignored the past 2.5 hours was pivotal. I also chugged tons of water at that aid station as I didn't have any.

This section took forever. I felt I was running consistently and constantly on this section and was making no headway. North Franklin Peak in the distance was moonlit and inspiring, but extremely demoralizing as it was so far away and that was essentially when my day would end. However, I pressed on. I passed a couple of more runners on the way but for the most part I was solo on this section. 

After getting to the final uphill segment, I thought that I was almost done but this is when the false summits really took their toll. Every uphill I went I thought "this has to be the end" and then it would lead to another downhill with a steep, rocky incline. I did this for seemingly forever. The clock was ticking away, but when I saw the start/finish at about 4:42 AM, I knew there was no way that I wasn't going to get sub 24. This was all mostly downhill but was very rocky. I was side stepping as my quads were absolutely shattered. They had nothing more to give on this section since I used them on the runnable downhills earlier.

The contrast of how I looked finishing here compared to lap 1 or lap 2 coming down must have been painful to see. I went from a galloping mountain goat to a lame camel that forgot how to walk. However, with a little umph, I made it to the end in 23:49. I was so ecstactic and relieved to have made it. To be sub 24 on this course felt like a miracle. Below is a pic of the finish:

I learned a lot from this course. First, taking it easy from the get-go is super important. Too many times I let the adrenaline of the start overpower smart decisions and I pay dearly down the road. I felt I controlled that a lot more on this course and forced myself to slow down in spots where I would normally pick it up. Second, baby food works! I probably owe my brother a lot for his recommendation of using this and testing out a few flavors. I now have something aside from GU that I can use. Third, Oreos remain a favorite food. I love these on and off the course and my love for them only increased. 

Thank you to Rob and the volunteers who put this race on. It is a very exciting event and love what you have done in the Texas Trail racing community. Thanks Mark for crewing and helping me out! Lastly, thanks to everyone else who read this blog. Hopefully you found some amusement during the course of this. 

Best,

Kettle Moraine 100: Getting Crushed But Gaining Far More

I like to think some of the best decisions are those that are made the spur of the moment, because, incidentally, that was me about a month ago before registering for the Kettle Moraine 100 in LaGrange, Wisconsin. After doing a group 20 mile run in the Cleveland National Forest (just outside of San Diego) with SURF, the local trail running community, I was left feeling like I needed to do another 100 miler, and soon before I started my new job at Classy. For some reason, I decided to head back to the Midwest and do another "easier" course. Hence, I registered for Kettle Moraine 100.

So, with 3 weeks leading up to the race,mnhb I knew that I didn't have much time to prepare for something that I clearly wasn't going to be getting into shape for. However, being the competitive person as I am, I wanted to do well. Although winning was the goal, that is what I stated to friends and family even though I knew that likely wasn't going to happen, especially racing guys who put in far more miles than me. Instead, I was depending on muscle memory and pure grit heading into this. Despite not feeling entirely prepared, I did know that KM100 isn't very hilly, nor is it technical, so I was even more curious to see how I could do with more road miles and less trail. This race also had about 260 people registered, which is a lot given the sport.



So fast forward to race day. After just moving from Seattle to San Diego, I didn't have any of the gear as that is in shipping (ask personally how that is going), so I had to compromise my entire race strategy. Since all of my gear was in shipping and I didn't know I would be running 100 miles in between me moving and racing, I had to switch all of my tactics. Typically I go with Orange Mud's VP2 or VP1, but instead, I bought a handheld bottle and was dependent on that for the entire day. I knew that the furthest aid station was only about 5 miles away and it wasn't going to be super hot, so I thought I'd get away with the handheld. In addition, I didn't have any of my GU that I usually had and the race has Hammer, which is something my stomach just can't tolerate. Finally I had no dropbags. I was donated some at the checkin on Friday but then forget them when I left to head back to my campsite (classic Nick). Then Annie Wiess saved the day. She's a fellow runner for Orange Mud. Her and her husband Brian provided the garbage bags and I was good to go for the day.

So, with that buildup, more to the race. 6 am rolled around pretty quickly. I didn't really sleep too well and I was pretty stiff upon waking up. "How is this going to work?" was the first question I asked myself when I woke up. I remember my back cracking 20 different times and my shoulders crunching like I was eating a bag of potato chips. If they were malfunctioning that early, I knew running 100 miles would certainly add additional layers of stress.

Once I'm at the start, the RD's send us off. There were about 4 of us that took off at the beginning. One guy in the front who I never really spoke to, a guy with long hair who was initially leading (I internally named him Jesus and we were his disciples following him), and a guy named Brad who I mostly spoke with in that initial group. Brad had a look in his eyes that didn't show he was here for a good time but on a mission to destroy everyone, and boy did he eventually succeed at that. 4.8 miles in and we get to the first aid station. I let the other three go so I could fill up. I was really wanting to be intentional throughout the day stopping, as I didn't have crew or lots of water being a single bottle.

After leaving Tamarack, I ran and tried catching up to the others. They were running about 7:30 miles for the first 7 miles. Truthfully, I wanted to take an aggressive approach, but I knew I didn't have the mileage to run that fast for that long. Additionally the second half of the race tends to be my strong point. After taking off there I kept my cool for basically the next 30 miles. This is when the first accident happened.

After running through a prairie that was fairly exposed and after running out of GU's, I knew I had to get some calories. I was bonking on a flat at about 34 miles. I did take a tropical hammer at the last aid station as a last resort and a last resort it was. After taking the first swallow my stomach went into total rejection mode. As per previous situations with puking, the watery mouth got out of control and all of the contents came spewing out. This now marks more races of puking than those that I didn't. I tried compromising Hammer products before in that I always puked because I had lots of sugar throughout the day, but now I'm concluding that I just don't get along with Hammer products. The good news is it was pretty clear, which meant I had drank a lot of water and that everything else was being properly digested.

At this point, Ukraine and Russia passed me. This was a couple of friends that were running the 100k together. I called them that because the one had a yellow and blue tank top on, similar to the Ukraine. And the other guy had grey and red. Lame, I know, but you have to create some games to get the miles to pass! However, unlike Ukraine and Russia, they smiled and I never felt like they were going to go to war with me. Once I got to Emma Carlin for the second time, I saw Brandi. She was here supporting a friend, and, arguably me. She always seemed to give me a helping hand and provided words of encouragement. This is what is so spectacular about the sport. To have people assist you in situations when you don't ask and they get nothing in return. She was also infatuated with my Ink n' Burn hippy shirt (as was about every other runner and aid station person), so there is that as well. Either way, I was very appreciate of her support.

Once at Emma Carlin, I reloaded my strawberry banana GUs and headed back out. Again, I passed Ukraine and Russia and got another wind. After getting back to Nordic, I was again feeling a little depressed. I was over the halfway mark, but was kind of getting tired of this section. KM100 is a T. The part getting back to Nordic was my least favorite. It is a series of hills that go up and down. Although they were justifiable to climb, it didn't pair with basically bonking. However, the good news was that when I would get to Nordic would mark the 100k mark and confirm the close to the rest of the race. With this in mind, I powered on and saw that Jesus was starting to slow down as well as the guy directly in front of me. Brad was about 7 miles in front of me at that point and looking strong, so I knew I wasn't going to be catching him.

Knowing the state everyone was in, including myself, I was going to be content striving for 5th unless another wind came. After snailing my way into the Nordic aid station (mile 63),  I was again greeted by Brandi and her bubbly personality. This inevitably led to a smile and people cheering, thinking that I was done with the 100k race. Dismay spread across the audience as they misclapped and I crushed their expectations of another finisher. However, once the information was disclosed that I had another 38 miles to go, everyone came to help. After thanking the volunteers, I took off again and noticed the guy in 6th was only about 1.5 miles behind. At this point I had been taking my time at the aid stations and allowed others to catch up that way. Usually when I'm in full race mode, I minimize as much time as possible when I get in.



After again getting back to Tamarask, I got some soup and this is when the game changed. Soup has traditionally been a magic bullet and it again was the case for this race. Where sugar and Gu fail, soup strives in flying colors. After having some chicken noodle soup, everything changed. And for the better. If Campbell's is looking for athletes in the ultra world, I'd happily put my name beside them! Not only does soup solve the flu, but it cures an angry runner's stomach as well. At this aid station, I took two cups of soup and took off.

Despite feeling really good here, the 6th placer had caught up, and he was looking strong. I think when he saw me just 1.5 miles ahead and walking, he gained inspiration to try and catch me. His desire to do so was admirable, but it also reminded me that this was a race. Regardless if I was trained or not, I wasn't about to walk my way into a 5th place finish. I told a couple of people that if I was going to lose, I'd make it hurt. Excluding Brad who blew everyone away, I felt like I won this race. Although I didn't enter this race with lots of endurance to back me up, I did show up with a mindset that wasn't going to accept defeat unless it was so uncomfortably challenging I couldn't step up to the challenge. Defending this position and disclosing what happened next was an invaluable lesson that I have been learning, particularly lately. It is interesting how ultrarunning has so many parallels to daily life and how much more so for the recent move I had just made. Although much opposition came from close family and friends about the decision to press on, I did and have no regrets for doing so. Similar to this, I came in with ambitious goals knowing that I didn't necessarily have the skillset to pull off a win. Instead, this race was all about mental stamina.

So once he caught up we were heading to the other section of the T and Rice Lake. Adam was his name and he haled from Duluth, Minnesota, the same location as Superior 100, which I will be running this September. Adam has run it 6 times and said he was "tired of running." I totally could relate with what he was talking about. Because the course is so flat, there really is no excuse to walk, but you make them up with the smallest incline. However, when a substantial climb did come, I noticed that Adam was significantly stronger than me. However, the downhills and the flats were my specialty. Any gain he got on me there quickly turned when a flat came.

This is when I had the Clifbar Mocha. This is my other game changer. Not only does it have caffeine for the night section, but it went down like butter. For being a gel, I was shocked at how easily it went down for the mileage that I was at. However, I knew that I would need the caffeine and the calories as it had been a while since I had any calories. I don't want to think about the amount of calories I take in versus the amount I burn. With that bite of the clifbar is when the jets got turned on. I started to leave Adam and I caught up to the guy who had been leading all day. He was walking and not looking so good as we were getting closer to the mile 80 mark.

After getting into the aid station, everyone, myself included, were surprised at how good I felt and looked. After getting some more chicken noodle soup and thanking the staff, I headed back out. I knew that they were calling for rain between 8pm and 1 am. At this point it was just sprinkling and
not too intense. Usually I hate rain in races, but this was quite refreshing.

After powering on, Adam and I crossed paths again. He was heading to the direction of the aid station and was about 10 minutes behind, so I definitely put some distance on him. At this point I was in the 3rd position. The chicken noodle soup really started to kick in as well. I felt energy levels come back to me and I suffered no stomach issues. This next section was the worst in my opinion as it was about 9 miles to the next real aid station. About 4.5 miles in you hit an aid station with just water, but no food. One of these days I'll calculate the amount of calories I intake versus burn off. However, I think I'd be fearful to see the result of that. It is no secret that these races probably aren't good for you, but I'm also a firm believer that sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Regardless, I eventually got to the self man station. I passed a ton of runners that were going on the out section at this point. As nice as it was to see people, there seemed to be a lot. Although usually not an issue, because it was now the night time section, my foot placements and joints weren't exactly great, and I ran the risk of twisting an ankle on a rock or root every time I had to get off path for the runners coming the opposite direction of me. However, thankfully, we all seemed to take our time when we crossed paths and ensured that none of us got injured.

After getting through these sections, I finally made it back to Emma Carlin Aid Station. After getting some more chicken noodle soup and revitalizing what I needed, I took off again. I wasn't about to hang out here. Adam looked strong back there and I had a weird feeling that he wasn't letting off the pedal, and neither should I. After getting the essentials I took off again with only about 8 miles to go. This is where I passed the 2nd placer. He incidentally had taken a beating throughout the day and was now really feeling the consequences of doing so. He and his pacer were hardly walking. Certainly I have been there before and felt bad for him. I offered a few words of encouragement and made my way.

The next section is fairly flat and only about 3 miles to Tamarack, the final aid station. At this point I was just ready to be done. I pressed on and got to the final aid station. The volunteers here were arguably my favorite. Most had done some pretty hard 100's, including Orcas Island in Washington State. It was fun to exchange quick stories and learn a bit about them. Besides the killer soup they made, I joked that I was dropping (not with them knowing I was kidding). All of their faces dropped as I pretty smiley at this point. No one seemed to know what to say. "You can't drop here" one of them told me. I laughed and told them I was kidding. "Leave it up to the hippy to do that!" the same aid station worker told me.

After switching my batteries out for the final section of the race, I took a cup of soup and headed out. Only 4.8 miles to go! This is when it started to rain. Not only rain, but a more of a torrential downpour. It was so intense you could hardly see in front of you. As I was passing people who were going the opposite direction, all I could feel was pity for the 30 miles they had left. With it being 58 and now soaking wet, things were great, but I was still moving so the rain likely impacted me significantly less than those who weren't moving as well. I continued powering through and finally got to the end in 18:28 as an official time. However, only 2 minutes behind was Adam, finishing in 18:30. He and I had both passed about 3 runners in the final 15 miles. Not bad!



This race was a giant learning lesson. First, controlling the mind is key. I certainly didn't enter this race as the most trained or in shape. In fact, I'd argue it was the opposite. The most I had run in any week leading up to this race was 75 miles. Adjusting my race strategy and putting mind over matter really worked out well for me. I knew that Brad (the person who eventually won) was significantly in better shape than I heading into this. Having realistic goals with a strong mental fortitude paid pretty dividends in this race for me. Although winning would have been nice and that was the goal I communicated to others, I'm very grateful for the performance and strategy I deployed on race day, especially given the situation.

A special shout out to David who hosted me in Chicago and allowed me to borrow his gear for the race. Brandi was awesome. She's the one that captured the shots and acted as my crew since I didn't have any. Lastly, thanks to Brian and Annie for the trash bags, and Brian for the words of encouragement throughout the day. It is awesome to see people come together for a unified purpose, to push yourself and see what the body is made of. I think if the lessons I learn in ultrarunning can be translated into human terms, I'm not sure what language it would be in, but this sport continues to impress me with the draw and mental intrigue that I'm hoping to continue this quest to complete a 100 in all of the US states. With 12 down and 38 to go, I think I'm making some good progress on this!

Thanks for all who read this. Hopefully this was entertaining to some degree.

Cheers!

-Nick K

Hawk 100: Feeling Human

If event planning was my occupation, I'd seriously have to consider a career change. My goal this was year was to run 3 100 mile races, ideally in geographically unique states, meaning not 2 Midwestern States in the same year. However, poor planning on my part means I ended up in both Illinois and Kansas in the same year. Perhaps now my biased "West coast is best coast vibe," I didn't honestly think that these two states would have much beauty to offer. Illinois surprised me earlier this year and now Kansas would do the same.

The Hawk 100 is a 4 loop, 25 mile course at Clinton State Park in eastern Kansas. The reason I selected this race is twofold. First, I failed to enter the lottery for the Superior 100 in Minnesota so I couldn't run that, and second I received sponsorship from Orange Mud for a free entry. As such, it was a no-brainer. This, in combination with the offer of my mom and sister to come out and support me ultimately led me to enter yet another race in the Midwest. Thankfully fellow OM ambassador Sherry Klover was the Race Director and had much beauty in store (which I didn't think was possible for Kansas). 

So fast forward to the race briefing Friday night. I had the chance to meet several other OM ambassadors including the man himself, Josh Sprague. After learning the course was only 4-5,000 total feet of climbing over the 100 miles, I actually think I laughed out loud. Coming into this race I was feeling nowhere near the fitness level I wanted to be. Sure I had put in a couple of 40+ mile runs around Mt. Hood, the Cascade Mountains, and the PCT, but they weren't fast miles, nor were they flat like this course was going to be. Unbeknownst to most, I had a goal that I could actually dip under 16 hours for this course (later to be learned this was far from happening). Knowing this and also knowing that Jeremy, last years champion, was back (who had run low 16's) I thought I had the perfect combination to reach the sub 16 mark. Really the only thing in question was how would my slow, mountain miles translate to almost flat and "runnable" trail?

At the start of the race, it was no surprise that the standard starting line nerves were running rampant among all of the runners. The 50 and 100 mile runners all started together which isn't exactly my desired state, as I didn't want to necessarily run with the faster people, but I secretly had some time goals that I wanted to hit. So, when we started, I naturally found myself among this group. Jeremy blasted to the front and left the rest of us together. This is when I joined Jeff Gregg (another OM ambassador running the 50 mile) and a guy from Arkansas named Daniel, also running the 50 miler. 

We started off and of course everything felt good. We hit the first part of the trail and I was a bit shocked how rocky it was. It reminded me of the Arkansas rock, where I went to school. Jeff, Daniel, and I were all running together and enjoying the trail together. We passed the first aid station and were all feeling pretty good. The reason I chose to run with them is they had time goals to be under 8 hours, but not a significant amount under 8 hours. That was something that I was also aiming for for the first 50 miles and thought that we could all support each other in reaching our goals. 

I got to the halfway point of the first loop and everything was feeling fantastic. This lap was completed in 3:30! Basically a marathon in 3.5 hours...I had a hunch I wouldn't be able to continue this, but I did feel good. I learned that Jeremy is one of those runners that pushes himself so hard that he could potentially tank later. He's also not afraid to drop if things aren't going great. This was insight that I gathered from Jeff who has run with him in Nebraska and said that that is typically how he performs. With that said, Jeremy you'll find later is someone who's got much grit and doesn't lose very often. Unlike me, he is used to these flatter, faster courses being from Nebraska. My strategy then would be to hang behind him and let him destroy himself for the first half and then I'd make my move in the second 50 miles, which is typically how I race anyways. However this didn't really happen.

As Daniel and I went out to complete the West Road 2.5 mile loop, we were really cranking the miles out. Daniel reported that we had just run the last 2 miles in about a 7:30 pace...not exactly the smartest thing for me to do considering that the longer miles might make me pay for this. I think he realized how fast we were going and we both agreed that slowing down might not be a bad idea. We got back to the aid station. I collected my things from my mom and sister and immediately left. Back to the start we went. This section was very surpisingly rocky. Although there wasn't a ton of climbing, the rocks made it very difficult to navigate. I love technical terrain so this section wasn't horrible (at least for now) and we both moved very well, right back to the beginning of the start. 

At this point I learned that Jeremy was only a couple of minutes ahead of me. He too was moving really well. I also managed to catch back up to Daniel at this point. I had a few more Honey Stinger waffles and we were running and talking together. Daniel is for sure a competitive athlete as he kept mentioning winning the 50 miler, and to be honest, I knew he probably would as there didn't seem like anyone else who'd challenge him at the distance. I started to feel really good and when we got to the technical section along the lake, I passed Daniel and ran this solo. It was here also that I passed Jeremy and was heading to the 50k mark of the race. Not exactly my race strategy to be in the lead at the 50k, but why stop a good feeling? I continued to stuff my face with more waffles and water. The humidity was really starting to kick in and I could feel that it was getting stronger. I eventually made it back to the aid station and my mom and sister were happy to see me and provide some much coveted blueberries. 

I quickly went out and ran the 2.5 mile loop. After restocking it was back to the start and the halfway point. I could feel a little pain in my heel at this point, but was hoping it was nothing. I again continued to shove my face with more waffles and water. I was beginning to notice that this rocky section of the trail was getting a little harder. However, everything was still functioning fairly normal and the heel was beginning to feel better. Then, out of the blue, intense cramping in my calves began. This was right when I was coming in the 50 mile point in 7:38, which I would learn later would be the 2nd fastest time for a 50 miler on this course. This was my 3rd fastest 50 miler as well. Was this good or bad?  My calves were flexing fairly intensely and I was feeling slightly bloated, but I thought it was manageable. After making small chat with mom and Mikala, Daniel brought it home to win the actual 50 mile race in about 7:42. I was stoked that he reached his goal and pulled out a win. However, my celebration was about to end soon because I knew Jeremy was hot on my heels and I didn't want him to see me, so I made it as short of a visit as I could. Back out for the 3rd loop I went.

I headed to Sander's Mound and passed Jeremy on his way to the mound. I was walking up the slight hill at this point and he was bombing down the opposite way. I knew dang well that he could see a little pain in my eyes and he struck fear in me as he didn't even look like he too ran 50 miles. I was hoping that I would have gained a little more of a margin on him but that was far from the case. As I progressed, things only started to get worst. My calves were flexing uncontrollably. I was walking at this point. On flat ground. I knew Jeremy was going to come blasting up at any moment. The heat of the sun and the humidity was also starting to kick in. As with all flight or flight systems, my body began to implement security controls to get me to stop. With every step, both calves were convulsing relentlessly and refusing to relax. It was here that Jeremy passed me, at about the mile 54 mark. 

I came into that aid station and grabbed some salt tablets and more pickle juice and pop. The bloating was really starting to kick in. I started to walk from this aid station as my calves refused to relax. This section was the worst of the entire course to my recollection. I basically walked the next 6 miles. Aside from the convulsing calves, the bloating transformed into a GI monster. I swallowed the banana I picked up and this is when my body went in full retaliation. Since my body didn't win the first battle with the calves it resorted to a grosser and more disgusting game that it's played in the past. Puking. And boy, oh boy, was there puking. Since event planning isn't the direction I should probably go for an occupation, I should consider being a professional puker because I very quickly learned I'd excel at this.

(Skip next paragraph if food contents aren't your thing)

The ingredient list of what came up is something I envision a witch throwing in a boiling pot of stew as she's about to curse someone. The banana, pickle juice, waffles, salt tablets, and potato wedge I ate for the past 3 hours came out in a yellowish, half digested state of hard substances and liquid. Of course this puking section was done in front of 3 women I had passed. I didn't puke once, not even twice, it was more like 4 or 5 times in this one spot. I'd walk a little and more and more contents would spew out. The look on the women's faces is how I envision someone looking at someone else who had just dropped a baby. Abhorred disgust. The best part? Some of the contents ended up on the trail, the same one they were walking on. Similar to someone who had just dropped a baby, they were immediately quick to assist. Something that never ceases me in the ultra community. One offered a peppermint. Apparently these are good for stomach problems. However, it was probably to protect my breath. I agreed to it and thanked them. At this point, I was bonking hardcore, the heat of the day was settling in, and each step was done on fully convulsed calves. Things were very, very slow.. this is when I started to puke 2-3 more times. However, there was nothing to puke up. I was literally just dry heaving and puking nothing up. I took a swig of water and started to puke uncontrollably again. Not. Good. I had 0 energy, no water, no air conditioning system, and a non-functioning body. I started to feel incredibly light-headed and things were going black. "Just get to the aid station, Nick, just get to the aid station." This was all I could think. I've puked before but this was different. This was much, much different.

As I got to the next aid station, I could see my mom and sister. I asked for a chair and sat down. This is something I'd never done before in a 100 mile race. Ever. However, I knew that this is what I needed. I could barely stand at this point as I thought I was going to pass out. I asked for soup, but it wasn't being prepared yet. All sugar I couldn't keep down. In fact, I couldn't even keep water down. The aid station workers came over and asked what was wrong. I told them and they said that this happens to everyone. In full disclosure, I was slightly offended. I had run these before, and much much harder ones at that, and I can say this wasn't normal for me. I haven't felt like I was going to get a heat stroke before, nor have I been this dizzy. I've had low moments, but this was a "is something worst going to happen?" Dropping suddenly became an option. I was humbled insanely well as I had never even considered dropping in a 100 mile race, outside of my first 100, and it being in Kansas of all places! They put an ice towel around me and mom and Mikala were asking me questions. I probably sat there for 15 minutes, just pondering what to do. My mom and sister flew out and here I was practically dying in front of them at mile 60. Dropping after they came out to support me seemed like a bad idea, but I also didn't want them planning a funeral either. I seriously didn't know what do...

The worker said that he thinks I should do the 2.5 mile loop. At this point, it was smoldering out, I was completely dehydrated, couldn't keep food down still, still dizzy, and was on the edge of dropping, but I decided to go out. I asked Mikala if she could walk with me. Not surprisingly, she jumped right at the opportunity. My sister, being a nurse, has internal instincts of where and when help is needed. This was a clear situation of that. We started walking and I didn't feel good at all. She handed me a couple of pretzels and I could only get them down with water. Each swallow of a pretzel left me gagging. Thankfully nothing came up. She and I talked and I must say it was a nice pick me up. I thought I was going to start crying on her! Never have I felt so weak and not in control. Of all the races, this one brought a level of humanness out of me that I'm not sure I've experienced before. Here was my sister, handing me pretzels and helping me consider my options. Dropping would probably be the smartest thing, but we both agreed that sitting at the aid station for another 20-30 minutes wouldn't be a bad idea either.

We got back and that is what I did. Soup was starting to be made and I made sure I grabbed some. The ice came back over me and the sun was starting to weaken. I needed calories, water, and a mental boost. After sitting again for a while, the 3rd placer came into the aid station. How I haven't been passed at this point was beyond my understanding. Truly the entire world should have passed me. After much deliberation I decided to continue onward. My sister selflessly agreed to go the next 11 miles with me, much of which would be walking. We both headed out and suddenly a wave of power came over me. The three cups of soup I ate was able to stay down (something soup has always successfully done when I have major stomach issues). The pace was picking up drastically and talking with my sister was a huge mental boost. 

We both put our headlamps on and this is when Mikala yelled at me to leave her and she will walk back into the aid station. Since my goal of being under 16 hours was LONG gone, I thought I'd heed her advice and try to finish asap. I left her and made it back to the 75 mile mark, finally feeling strong again. This 25 miles had taken about the same amount of time to finish as the first 50 miles, not something that I'm proud of.

I got to the aid station and I think mom was surprised to see me looking so good. I quickly downed another 2 cups of soup, took one to go, and headed back out. I wanted to try to finish under 21 hours, which would mean I had to complete this lap into about 6 hours, something I knew I could do since I felt so good. At this point, I knew I could manage to secure a 2nd place finish if I continued to feel this good. I took off and ran into a shadow of an animal with an oddly white stripe...it was indeed a skunk. I was so thankful that it didn't spray all over the place, although it may have made me smell better than I currently did...Things were really feeling not bad. I was managing to run, my calves were cooperating, and I was much cooler than I had been during the heat of the day. I got back to the halfway point of the loop, got what I needed and did the 2.5 mile loop. Mom and Mikala I could tell were relieved that I was feeling better. I downed another 2 cups of soup and took one to go. 

With this, I headed out and made it to the final aid station before finishing the race. They all congratulated me and I informed them that I would not be doing a 5th lap. Shortly thereafter, I came to a copperhead. It was in the middle of the trail and was just looking at me. Fantastic. I run 94 miles, survive a potential heat stroke, and then potentially get killed by a snake. We both had a moment of just looking at each other. Do I kick a rock at it? Do I try to walk in the plants to the side? Do I bring back my hurdling skills (which definitely didn't exist at this point of the race)? I decided to just have a stare down. Finally the snake slithered its way off the trail. Snakes really aren't my thing, but giant, poisonous snakes in the middle of the woods in a completely destroyed state definitely aren't my thing. 

After saying goodbye to the snake I knew that I was going to make my desired time of sub 21 hours. I headed back to the trails and saw the beloved 1/4 mile to go sign. I was relieved. I continued onward and got to the finish.

To say I was relieved to have finished is an understatement. I thought I'd come into this race and blow away my fastest time of 17:04, but I was again reminded that these races don't always unravel how we plan or want them to. I am hugely relieved and blessed to have finished and finish second on a day that went anything but as planned. I later learned that Jeremy too had tanked and was 4 hours slower than the previous year. He put about 24 minutes on me. I think we both destroyed each other early on and we both paid our dues as the day went on. Overall I am pleased with my 20:40 finish. This year I managed to snag 2 firsts and 1 second, so I have no room to complain. Also, I think looking back, I'm not sure I would have been mad at myself for dropping, something that I didn't think I'd say. There truly is a fine line of pushing yourself and being unhealthily stupid about a decision. I was arguably the latter. 

A huge thanks to Orange Mud for the opportunity to run this, Sherry and Ami for putting on a great event, all of the volunteers who selflessly gave of their time and of course my mom and sister who shock me with their willingness to help. This is for sure a selfish sport, but I have come to learn that the community of those on the trail and those behind the aid stations are there to support and encourage, something I think humans can get better at, myself included! I take these lessons with a grain of salt and try to incorporate them in my every day living. There is something gloriously wonderful about suffering and coming to a conclusion with loving, warm arms of people you care about. Although all of this pain is self-inflicted, there is much to be learned and I will continue learning more about myself and other humans through the dark valleys that this sport naturally produces.

Thank you all and hope this blog finds you well!

-NK