While I didn't compete, I did some pacing for the SD 100 miler last Sat/Sun. My buddy Issy had done pretty well at the Noble Canyon 50k about 3 weeks prior, and despite never having raced longer than that distance, managed to talk his way into the San Diego 100 mile run last weekend. I was surprised to hear that he had signed up for a 100 miler, as he had talked about wanting to do Badwater in the past, but I thought his longer ultramarathon aspirations were well off into the future. He confirmed that he hadn't done any special training for the run, but just wanted to give it a shot. I personally gave him almost no chance, but vollunteered to be on his crew for the latter stages of the race and try to help him through it.
I did the camp pendleton mud run Saturday morning, and after a long day of burgers, hot dogs, wings and beer, drove out to Cuyamaca. I had only a general idea of where I was going, and with no cell phone signal, drove around aimlessly for quite a while before finding the control center. It was a little past 8 pm by that point, and they told me that Issy had passed an aid station at 7:15, with 7.5 miles to the next stop which happened to be right down the road. I drove back to the Museum aid station, put on my running shoes, which were still waterlogged from the mud run, and was absolutely shocked to see Issy and his pacer already at the aid station. "Ready to run?!!" asked my other buddy G, who had paced him from the 50 mile point up to the current spot, near mile 70. G barked a bunch of babysitting type instructions about how to force him to drink every 10 minutes, when to give him gu's, salt tablets and other such things, strapped the backpack and headlight on me and sent me on my way.
Right away, I was shocked at the comfortable pace Issy was still keeping. We quickly encountered some pretty significant uphills, and he was cruising right up them. He was in good spirits and showed no sign of injury. I would have put money down that he would have dropped by now. I on the other hand immediately felt the the burgers and beer churning in my stomach, and having never run in the dark, I quickly ate dirt within 5 minutes of starting.
We completed a solid effort to the next aid station 6 miles away, where we encountered Danny and Maria, two other friends from our track club. Maria, sporting starkly bloodshot eyes, greeted us both with a hug, and exclaimed "I'm drunk! Do you want me to run? I can run! And sing!" This didn't seem like the best idea to me, so even with an upset stomach and my legs feeling stiff from the cold and slower pace, I decided to continue on with Issy. The next 5 mile stretch was easier terrain and continued to go well, although I was tripping over rocks and roots often and almost fell several more times. I couldn't help but constantly think about how well Issy was moving almost 80 miles into the race. He asked me a few times how his pace was, and all I could say was "I think you must have been born to do this."
When we reached the next aid station, G, Maria and Danny all greeted us. I wasn't wearing running shorts, and hadn't prepared with any Body Glide, so in addition to an upset stomach, I could feel the sting of chafing in every chafeable body area. I was still a bit skeptical, but eagerly dropped out while Danny and Maria vollunteered to pace Issy for the next stretch. They disappeared into the darkness, and me and G walked a shortcut to the next aid station. We both marvelled at how well Issy was doing, and how tough the slow miles were on our legs, especially having both raced earlier that morning. We hung out for quite a while at the next aid station, saw a bit of a meteor shower, and I took in some Gatorade and cookies, which settled my stomach considerably by the time the group of 3 arrived. Sure enough, Maria had fallen and hurt her knee, forcing the group to walk the entire 5.8 mile stretch. This might not have been a bad idea though, as this stretch included some of the toughest climbing on the course. Both G and I were hoping to be done with running for the day, but Danny and Maria felt the same way, and Issy indicated that he needed help the rest of the way, so I quickly said I'd go, and that G could have the final stretch.
The next 6.4 mile leg was cake, featuring several flat and moderate downhill stretches. Issy's form remained strong, and we hit the 92.5 mile mark before too long. At the next aid station, G said his legs were done, so I agreed to finish it up. The last 7.5 miles seemed to drag on forever, with an interminable climb into the darkness. There were several particularly rocky stretches, and I tasted the dirt a few more times. I silented cursed at myself while thinking about just a few hours before I was comfortably tossing back beers, and instead of deciding to get into the hot tub, opted to drive into the middle of nowhere and spend my night stumbling through the darkness, kicking rocks left and right, and continuing to thoroughly chafe myself.
Issy finally relented and walked some of the hills, but before long he would say "OK, we can go some more." We were still running about 80% of the time. We finally reached the peak and began descending back towards the finish. Issy stopped me to show a tiny trickle of water flowing across the trail at one point. Apparently during the first 50 miles (it was a double loop course) he was running with only a single water bottle and no food or gels, and had run out of water. He had sucked the water right off the trail at this point, and at the point didn't feel good about his chances of finishing. It was gratifying to know that by carrying and managing his nutrition for the 2nd half of his race we had played a huge part in getting him through it.
We passed a girl with about half a mile left. She was struggling with her IT band and was limping in, but was in good spirits. Issy finished in 21:39:56, 7th overall. I'm not very familiar with ultrarunning, but I was unbelievably impressed, and feel like he has a great ultrarunning career ahead of him if he wants to continue pursuing it. I was honored to be a part of the effort.
I did the camp pendleton mud run Saturday morning, and after a long day of burgers, hot dogs, wings and beer, drove out to Cuyamaca. I had only a general idea of where I was going, and with no cell phone signal, drove around aimlessly for quite a while before finding the control center. It was a little past 8 pm by that point, and they told me that Issy had passed an aid station at 7:15, with 7.5 miles to the next stop which happened to be right down the road. I drove back to the Museum aid station, put on my running shoes, which were still waterlogged from the mud run, and was absolutely shocked to see Issy and his pacer already at the aid station. "Ready to run?!!" asked my other buddy G, who had paced him from the 50 mile point up to the current spot, near mile 70. G barked a bunch of babysitting type instructions about how to force him to drink every 10 minutes, when to give him gu's, salt tablets and other such things, strapped the backpack and headlight on me and sent me on my way.
Right away, I was shocked at the comfortable pace Issy was still keeping. We quickly encountered some pretty significant uphills, and he was cruising right up them. He was in good spirits and showed no sign of injury. I would have put money down that he would have dropped by now. I on the other hand immediately felt the the burgers and beer churning in my stomach, and having never run in the dark, I quickly ate dirt within 5 minutes of starting.
We completed a solid effort to the next aid station 6 miles away, where we encountered Danny and Maria, two other friends from our track club. Maria, sporting starkly bloodshot eyes, greeted us both with a hug, and exclaimed "I'm drunk! Do you want me to run? I can run! And sing!" This didn't seem like the best idea to me, so even with an upset stomach and my legs feeling stiff from the cold and slower pace, I decided to continue on with Issy. The next 5 mile stretch was easier terrain and continued to go well, although I was tripping over rocks and roots often and almost fell several more times. I couldn't help but constantly think about how well Issy was moving almost 80 miles into the race. He asked me a few times how his pace was, and all I could say was "I think you must have been born to do this."
When we reached the next aid station, G, Maria and Danny all greeted us. I wasn't wearing running shorts, and hadn't prepared with any Body Glide, so in addition to an upset stomach, I could feel the sting of chafing in every chafeable body area. I was still a bit skeptical, but eagerly dropped out while Danny and Maria vollunteered to pace Issy for the next stretch. They disappeared into the darkness, and me and G walked a shortcut to the next aid station. We both marvelled at how well Issy was doing, and how tough the slow miles were on our legs, especially having both raced earlier that morning. We hung out for quite a while at the next aid station, saw a bit of a meteor shower, and I took in some Gatorade and cookies, which settled my stomach considerably by the time the group of 3 arrived. Sure enough, Maria had fallen and hurt her knee, forcing the group to walk the entire 5.8 mile stretch. This might not have been a bad idea though, as this stretch included some of the toughest climbing on the course. Both G and I were hoping to be done with running for the day, but Danny and Maria felt the same way, and Issy indicated that he needed help the rest of the way, so I quickly said I'd go, and that G could have the final stretch.
The next 6.4 mile leg was cake, featuring several flat and moderate downhill stretches. Issy's form remained strong, and we hit the 92.5 mile mark before too long. At the next aid station, G said his legs were done, so I agreed to finish it up. The last 7.5 miles seemed to drag on forever, with an interminable climb into the darkness. There were several particularly rocky stretches, and I tasted the dirt a few more times. I silented cursed at myself while thinking about just a few hours before I was comfortably tossing back beers, and instead of deciding to get into the hot tub, opted to drive into the middle of nowhere and spend my night stumbling through the darkness, kicking rocks left and right, and continuing to thoroughly chafe myself.
Issy finally relented and walked some of the hills, but before long he would say "OK, we can go some more." We were still running about 80% of the time. We finally reached the peak and began descending back towards the finish. Issy stopped me to show a tiny trickle of water flowing across the trail at one point. Apparently during the first 50 miles (it was a double loop course) he was running with only a single water bottle and no food or gels, and had run out of water. He had sucked the water right off the trail at this point, and at the point didn't feel good about his chances of finishing. It was gratifying to know that by carrying and managing his nutrition for the 2nd half of his race we had played a huge part in getting him through it.
We passed a girl with about half a mile left. She was struggling with her IT band and was limping in, but was in good spirits. Issy finished in 21:39:56, 7th overall. I'm not very familiar with ultrarunning, but I was unbelievably impressed, and feel like he has a great ultrarunning career ahead of him if he wants to continue pursuing it. I was honored to be a part of the effort.
