Black Hills 100 Race Report
So I’ve never ever done a race report before, mainly due to the fact that I’ve never run in a race further than 31 miles and also didn’t think anyone cared to read it. However, I’ve had numerous people ask to read my race report, so I thought I’d come up with some reading material for insomniacs. I apologize that it's so long, and not very good.
So the Black Hills 100 was a race that was selected in the winter of 2012, with full intentions of participating in the race that same year. Due to a stress fracture from a number of things, mostly too many tough mudder races that year, I had to bow out. Luckily the ultra running race organizers and not nearly as strict as other races, and rolled my registration over to 2013 just through a simple email. So I now had a full year to prepare as soon as I was healed and ready to go. Preparing for such an event is no simple task to begin with, but especially when you live in Iowa and the tallest hill is the laughing stock of the black hills. So I train the best I could, hit some hills, put in some major miles, and recruit my Dad be my lone crew member. He is very excited at the prospect of crewing due to the fact that he’s retired, loves to travel, loves sporting events with a passion, and is a huge numbers guy. So I knew he’d be perfect to have tag along, and to keep track of my pace, calories in/out, fluid in/out, etc.
So I painstakingly go over everything I would ever need for 4 marathons in a row, and pack like I’ll be gone for a month. I pack running gear for extreme heat, extreme cold, lots of shoes, lots of GU’s. I go over everything with Dad and explain to him what it all is and what purpose it all serves. We begin to load the back end of the Ford with all our goodies, and he begins to go through things, picking up my roller looking upon it the way a child observes something foreign for the first time. Then picks up a GU, “You eat this? While you run? It tastes good?” Yes, Yes, and Yes Dad, now let’s focus on the packing. By the time we’re done, the back end of the vehicle looks like a street corner vendor that’s set up a running store. We got it ALL, and yet I still feel like I’m missing something. I stand there and ponder for a minute while I debate if I should take 1 more pair of shoes or not. At this point my father looks at me and says, “Well if you need an extra pair, they have Wal-Marts everywhere ya know.” At this point I decide it’s best to ignore that comment and get in the car before I say something I will regret. We hop in, wave to our wives as we pull away, and we’re off, 10 hours to Sturgis, SD. We arrive in Sturgis Thursday night and have the evening to chill, as well as the entire next day. Friday is a good day to sleep in, relax, and scout out a couple of the aid stations where I’ll get to see Dad and possibly utilize his services. Things look good at the aid stations, except the fact that while we are driving to get there, we keep climbing and climbing, and my ears are popping, these are no Iowa hills! The course website warned me that there was more elevation change and climbing than the Leadville 100, one of the most famous ultras, but who cared, I was going all out for my first 100. We head to packet pick up and grab everything I need, and then wait for 30 minutes for the pre race meeting. Typically an Ultra event has these to go over any course changes, markings, rules, etc. The meeting is pretty uneventful and we are out of there 30 minutes after we sit down. As we head back to the hotel, I notice my Dad is unusually giddy, but I’m not sure why. He is smiling and laughing and won’t stop talking, I figure he must just be nervous about the race. We pull into the motel parking lot and as I walk into the lobby I see a woman that looks just like my wife, and she’s even holding a baby that looks pretty similar to my toddler, and another woman that looks like my mom is even standing…wait, holy cow, it is them, how the hell did you get here, and why!? My wife explains that she thought this would be too epic to miss and was excited to see it all go down. They left shortly after us the day before and took their sweet time traveling. This was the reason my Dad was so excited, he knew. This was a great surprise to me and very relaxing to be able to spend some time with my daughter and wife the night before. We all went out to dinner and then turned in early around 9pm for the day that was to come.
My alarm is set for 4, but I’m awake every hour on the hour, and wake up by about 3:50am, deciding now is a good time to rise. I get up, do some light stretching, pick the appropriate clothes to coincide with the current weather, decent breakfast of a smoothie and some breakfast bars, and head out the door. Dad and I get to the race around 5am, I check in and head to the rest room for one last “make sure I’m empty check.” I decide to carry 1 handheld water bottle, short sleeves, ball cap, and compression socks. People are milling around the start line taking pictures, chatting it up with others, and just generally hanging out. It was a very underwhelming start, and an absolutely stress free way to start a race. Finally someone got on the PA stating 15 seconds till start. He slowly counted down from 10 to 1, and like that, the race had begun. I started off with the pack and made sure I was at a very slow, easily sustainable pace for an event of this distance. There was a lot of laughing and chatting as the pack headed out of the Sturgis High school football stadium, and onto the bike trail that followed the highway. Soon we ran under the highway through a drainage culvert and onto the Centennial trail that was the trail we followed for 95% of the entire race. We immediately began the hill climbing, and it was a first for me to throttle back and just walk the up hills. This was my race strategy all along, walk uphill’s, run the rest, eat often and whenever I’m hungry. The first few climbs don’t seem that bad and I remember before I left in looking at the elevation profile that it was about an 800ft climb before I pulled into the first aid station. The course was a single trail dirt path that was very rocky. The rocks proved to be a problem later in the course for several reasons. I come around a corner and see an aid station in the middle of a large prairie is just on the horizon, just 5.7 miles into the day. I see Dad as one of the first people standing at the aid station. I give him thumbs up and keep going since I feel so great. As I get closer I tell him I’m fine and I’ll see him at the next crew access aid station. From this aid station to the next (Bulldog) was the most beautiful scenery of the entire run. It was a lot of climbing, but you would come around a corner and be able to see for 30+ miles. Picture perfect scenery! I ran by several people taking pictures of the scenery and just stopping to appreciate life for a minute. At this point the racers were still somewhat congested as the 50mile, 100k, and 100 mile all started at the same time. I roll into bulldog aid station which does not have crew access only way to get to this point is via 4 wheeler. It’s been 10.3 so far and I’m still feeling great, but I know I need to replace the 2 gels I ate between that last stretch and grab something else. They have PB&J in quartered pieces, sounds good so I grab 2, refill both handhelds and off we go. It’s about 7 miles to Elk Creek Aid station which as I found out the day before from our pre race scouting, is a nightmare to get to by car with parking and everything. So as I left it with Dad at the start of the race, if he wasn’t able to get in, just skip ahead and I’ll be great. Scenery was still beautiful, lots of climbs and descents that added up. I come into Elk Creek AS and Dad is sitting in a lawn chair the first person on the trail. He has obviously raced here and scouted out some prime real estate. He’s got a small bag of some essentials I may need, fortunately I need nothing. I hand him my hand held and he quickly refills it. At this point it’s starting to warm up and I decide on taking a second hand held because I’m starting to get thirsty about a mile outside my AS. Refill GU’s, both water bottles filled, head out. The next AS is crooked tree AS which is 22.5 miles into the race or 5.5 from this AS. I head there and endure much of the same, a steady pace, beautiful scenery, and zero aches or pains at this point. However, between that AS where I left Dad, and this one, there are 5 creek crossings only 1 of which is dry. The other 4 all submerge my entire foot up to mid shin in ice cold crystal clear water. It’s a beautiful crossing and looks amazing, but the last thing I want on a 100 mile race is my feet wet and my skin softening up. I manage to make it through all the crossings without falling and totally going under. Game plan now is get to crooked tree AS, refuel, rehydrate, and get going to grab new shoes from pops at the Dalton Lake AS. This AS is 29.2 miles into the race, so I’ve had to run roughly 7 miles from the first time my feet got wet. This AS was amazing, we had a substantial descent to the lake and I could see it forever. A completely still body of water sun glistening off the surface, with a back drop of the black hills. I come down out of the hills and can hear my family cheering for me at this point. I couldn’t see them but I could hear my wife yelling and couldn’t run fast enough. I come around the corner running over a small pedestrian wooden bridge, and see my toddler clapping and my wife, mother, and father standing there clapping and yelling. It was the greatest feeling ever to have all those people there cheering for me and there to support whatever I needed. I realized all the other people at the aid station were cheering for me as well, since I was the only one coming into that AS at the time. My crew had a lawn chair set up in the shade for me to change socks, rehydrate and refuel. I changed socks and shoes making sure my feet were completely dry, slipping on another pair of iniji toe socks. I drank a bottle while I sat there and consumed a half sandwich, cliff bar, and left with both handhelds filled. Two people running the 100k came into the AS just the time I was leaving. The climb from the lake bottom was almost a 1200ft straight up climb. It toasted me for sure. This part of the trail was also very rocky, and I had trouble many times covering all the loose rock and gravel that was spread across the trail. During this section I rolled my left ankle but bounced right up and breathed a sigh of relief, as I felt nothing pop snap or even hurt. I made it into the next AS which was 36 miles. The stretch from this AS to the next was an open ATV trail, and I saw lots of ATV’s out and about on that stretch. Fortunately the ATV riders had been warned and every single one pulled to the side and even wished me luck as I passed by. It was very nice and refreshing for a change. Lots of climbing but pretty uneventful to the next AS. Came into the next AS @ mile 42.5 which was a camper set up with a family that was volunteering their time all weekend. This was by far the best food of any AS all course. They had grilled cheese, PB&J, quesidilla’s, 2 different homemade soups, cookies, and the usual gels, fruits, powders, and drinks. I was excited to see the family here but only stayed long enough eat half a grilled cheese. I knew it was a little less than 8 to the halfway point and wanted to get going as quickly as possible. I took off and made it to halfway, 50 miles, about 11 hours right on my pace to finish in 24 hours. I knew I had a bit of time so I stopped here and relaxed for about 15 minutes, played with my daughter, that was running around in her diaper at this point, got a few pictures by the Silver City town sign and kissed everyone goodbye as I headed back out. The course was out and back so I was headed to the last AS that I just was at. I arrive at 57.7 and know that I’d better stock up on food since this was the best food available. I grab an entire grilled cheese, and 2 cookies before taking off on the run. I haven’t said it but when I would come into each AS, I immediately handed dad both handhelds and he would refill them with ice water. So after I grabbed my food and bottles, I headed right back out. During my travels to the next AS I roll my ankle again, but like the last time, no harm no foul, everything feels pretty good. I keep going and make it to mile 64. At this point it’s starting to get a little dark and cooler, so I change clothes into a t-shirt and out of a tank top, and also put on the head lamp. My wife and daughter are headed back to the hotel so I give them both an extra long squeeze before they leave. This is the last time I'll see them till the finish. I head out again and make it back to the Lake, although this time I can’t see it as its pitch black outside. I’ve been consistently peeing all day, but now my hunger drive has gone out the window. I can barely put down 1 gel an hour, but no other solid food at all! I don’t throw anything up, but one bite of something solid and I start gagging like it might come back up. I sit down at this AS for a bit and put on a long sleeve shirt as it’s starting to get a lot colder. I’m shaking when I sit down so dad covers me up with a blanket. I know I need to get going but it’s so hard because I’m so cold and starting to get tired. I find the strength to stand up and dad basically pushes me onto the trail. We had a discussion prior to the race and no matter what I said or did, don’t let me give up or quit. So I keep moving and once I get going, I feel pretty good, but then IT happens. I roll my left ankle for the third time bringing me to my knees. I stand up take a few steps and realize something is not right. I keep plodding along and make it to the AS, but at a severely slowed pace. I’m not sure what I did but I just need to get somewhere. The AS is at 77.5 but is no crew access, so I stop only long enough to grab some more gels, and refill my water bottles. Keep moving, keep moving, this is my mantra I repeat over and over again in my head but I can feel my pace slowing rapidly with each mile. The ankle is starting to swell and its things are heading south. Its pitch black in the middle of the night and I’m barely moving faster than a walk, it’s more of a shuffle at this point. This is the section of trail where I have to cross the creek again. I come to 4 wet crossings and make it through each, but not without falling while trying to cross one. I put my hand down, so only half of my body is submerged into the freezing cold water in the middle of the night. At this point I see the first of several hallucinations, a man kneeling halfway up the hill watching me, he sees me fall but offers no assistance, and when I look up again he’s long gone. I keep going barely, but manage to make it to the next AS which is where I meet up with dad and a desperately needed change of socks and shoes. I sit down here and bury my face in my hands. At this point everything feels OK except my left ankle, which is on fire and sending spikes of pain throughout my entire body. I’m 83 miles into it and all I can focus on is my ankle, it’s swelling more and more by the minute and I can barely walk on it. I am bundled up with blanket, jacket, hat, gloves and am still chillin. I change socks and shoes, drink some more but can barely focus on how to get through. Dad is pretty stern at this point at tells me I don’t ever have to do another ultra ever again, but I HAVE TO FINISH THIS RUN. He crunches some quick numbers and informs me that I can walk the rest of the way and still make it. This doesn’t seem promising, but I’m OK with just finishing. I start on my way but am walking only at this point, and it’s about a 17-18 minute mile pace. It’s rough, but now the sun starts to slowly rise and it appears to make the situation a bit better. I make it to AS 89.7 which is no crew access so I minimize time there eat and take off. The next section is the most beautiful on the course and I get to see some beautiful scenery which again takes my mind off the pain. I see a UPS truck in the middle of the field that’s not really there, as well as someone hiding behind a sign on two separate occasions, and an aid station that doesn’t exist. But I really do get to see the sun rising over the vallies for as far as the eye can see, and I can finally see the town of Sturgis up ahead in the distance, this too in another reason for me to keep focusing and to take my mind off the pain. I make it to Alkali Creek AS and am now only 5.7 from the finish. I try not to stay any longer than I have to, but know at this point what would normally be a quick 5.7 mile run, will possible be just less than 2 hours. The ankle is BAD and shows no signs of relief. I’ve been taking ibuprofen consistently for the past 20 miles, but it only slightly helps. I get going and make it 2 miles before I hear a familiar voice. Dad went to the finish line, parked, and hiked out to meet me to bring me in. I’m very emotional at this point and almost break down due to seeing my father and what he is doing for me. He is not a runner, nor a fitness enthusiast, but he cares so much about me that he hiked up a major hill 3 miles to get here and is willing to take me back another 3. I feel an overwhelming feeling of love at this point and now have faith that I’ll make it through. It’s the worst 3 miles of my life but I make it to the edge of the Sturgis high track and I can see my ladies at the end waiting for me. They are cheering along with the half a dozen others sitting at the finish line waiting to bring me in. I try to pick up the walking pace and shuffle in pain towards the finish. My daughter is grinning ear to ear as I throw my water bottles sky high, cross the finish line and swoop her up in a single motion. It’s an amazing feeling and all the runners there are very congratulatory and supportive. I am presented my belt buckle by the race director and also my participation medal. I have a seat for a while in a tent placed on the infield and watch a couple other people come in right after me. It’s frustrating to see people finish, that I was ahead of by roughly20 miles at the halfway point, but at the same time I’m grateful I had an opportunity to finish and know that many would give anything to be able to walk somewhere in pain let alone walk. I’m pretty excited but now hungry as all get out and starting to get an appetite. We leave the field, head back to the hotel and I’m able to take a quick ice bath and shower. We order 2 pizzas to eat between the whole family and I take down almost 1 by myself. The weekend has come to an end and we start to head back towards home slowly. It’s an amazing race experience and I’m grateful I had the chance to compete. Strangely enough I’m already thinking about another one next year.
Comments
No Pacer?
@Tim. No I didn't have a pacer but that's one thing I wish I did. The people that did seemed more fresh, I think the pacer took their minds off the pain.
Congrats!!!
@Kim My longest run was 30 miles this year, and my weekly mileage is around 50-60
Great job!
You are a true inspiration and looking forward to our race in Sept!!
Wow! Congratulations. That's incredible. I don't know how you can keep it together doing anything for 24hrs straight let alone running by yourself. Quite the physical and mental achievement. Great read as well!
What was your recovery like in the days after the race? I imagine the drive back home was pretty rough.