Wasatch 100: Rule Like a Unicorn!
Wasatch 100: Rule Like a Unicorn!
Background and Goals
This season I tried an experiment using Ironman training early in the season to build a big endurance engine. Then I’d layer on specificity with trail running as I got about three months out for Wasatch. I trained for Oceanside 70.3 and Ironman Santa Rosa through the winter months, which worked out well because I could do most of the training indoors when it was cold and dark outside early in the morning. It also preserved precious SAUs that I could spend later in the year. I enjoy Ironman training (much more than Ironman racing), making it a welcomed departure from my outdoor adventures in recent years. My build races indicated this experiment was a success. At Twisted Fork 64k and Speedgoat 50k, I didn’t get fatigued – at all. Wasatch 100 would be the crucible to truly put this experiment to the test.
The Wasatch Front 100 is one of the original 100 milers. Its tagline is “100 Miles of Heaven and Hell.” It started in 1980 with a handful of intrepid runner. It was considered the hardest 100 for many years until races like the Hard Rock 100 appeared on the scene. Some argue that it is still the hardest. Certainly with 24,000ft of vertical it’s one of the hardest.
I pre-ran every inch of the course in training since it’s all within an hour of my house and went into the race feeling the most prepared I’ve ever been. I even did a three-week taper as opposed to my usual two-week taper because my training had been so tough I felt like I’d gone deep into the well.
Wasatch 100 course breakdown.
My goals for this race were simple:
1. Run humble, run grateful was my mantra. I knew there would be dark times, and there were. This mantra got me through those moments of question why I was stumbling through the mountains in the late hours of the night.
2. Have fun and finish injury free. I was getting to run with three friends as pacers and there were countless other runners I knew out there. I wasn’t going to obsess over time. Instead I’d just take what the day gave me.
3. Break 30 hours to get the Cougar buckle. Based on pre-running the course, I felt like I had a good shot at breaking 30 hours to be inducted into the Order of the Cougar (24 hours gets you the Cheetah buckle, and 36 gets you the Badger). However, in the days leading up to the race the forecast predicted it was going to be the second hottest Wasatch 100 on record. Heat is my kryptonite, so I pretty much set this goal aside the day before the race and focused on #1 and #2.
100 Miles of Heaven and Hell
I mentally broke this race into four sections, so the enormity of 100 miles would not overwhelm me. Just make it to the end of the current section.
· The Start to Big Mountain at mile 32 with over 9,000ft of vertical. I thought this was the hardest section of any I pre-ran. If it was a standalone 50k, this would be the second hardest I’ve done just behind the absolutely insane Speedgoat, which is arguably the hardest ultra pound-for-pound. This section starts off with a punch in the face climbing over 4,000 ft in about 4 miles up Bair Canyon. Then runners immediately transition to steady running on a downhill jeep road for about 7 miles. This is followed be singletrack. This is really the crux of the race. If you are not a balanced trail runner, this section will force you to burn too many matches that will turn the latter half of the race into a sufferfest.
· Big Mountain to Lamb’s Canyon at mile 45. This is the hottest part of the course which I’d hit at the hottest part of the day. This section would determine the rest of my race as I’d have to overcome my kryptonite and make it through the heat.
· Lamb’s Canyon to Brighton at mile 67. This would be a primarily hiking section as it involved a long climb over Bare Ass Pass and then an even longer climb up the Wasatch Crest. It would also be the section transitioning into night.
· Brighton to the Finish. I thought this was the easiest section that I pre-ran. I told myself “make it to Brighton and then it’s just an easy 50k.” The singletrack section was about 50% runnable. The last 13 miles are primarily jeep roads and are eminently runnable. I was counting on my strength that I can run indefinitely over non-technical terrain here.
Start to Big Mountain: Waspapolooza
Highlight: Finishing the first 50k – perhaps the most difficult section – feeling fresh
Lowlight: Getting stung multiple times by wasps in Bair Canyon
All the preparation melted away – all the packing drop bags, all the going through my checklist one more time, all the visualizing what the race would be like – and I was standing at the start at East Mountain Wilderness Park. The race director announced, “five minutes to the start,” I did my final preparation. I knew from pre-running this section that it funneled into singletrack about a half mile in that would cause a massive conga line that you’d follow for the next 7 miles up the Bair Canyon climb. I got much closer to the front of the pack than I normally would and prepared to run faster than I would like in a 100 to get ahead of the conga line.
The race started as the runners funneled onto the doubletrack road, and I took off still going easy, but normally I’d start stupid easy in a 50-miler or greater. I managed to hit the singletrack section ahead of the main pack. However, a runner with a pony tail a couple up had sprinted to the singletrack and then was leisurely hiking uphill. I mentally identified him as a “clogger,” someone who takes some sort of pleasure out of keeping everything behind him. It’s pretty much the same thing you see on the freeway. I waited until there was a passing section, and then passed aggressively so he would be tempted to throw down. He kept all the runners behind him, and I was running in a small group winding through East Mountain Wilderness Park. The first three miles are a frustrating maze through this neighborhood park. In training, I ran an extra mile through here trying to stay on course. I carefully picked my way to the start of Bair Canyon at mile 3 and knew there was no getting lost now.
I whipped out my carbon fiber trekking poles from the Salomon quiver on my back, as I would do perhaps a hundred times through the day, settling in for the long grind. I fell in with a runner who was completing his 20th Wasatch 100 and said he’s stop once he hit 40! It was still dark, and I march up the canyon behind a couple of other runners when the guy in front of me stopped and started screaming. It took a short second for me to realize why he stopped as wasps danced into view of my headlamp. I heard many runners got stung last year in the Canyon, so I knew what was happening straight away. I shoved the runner ahead and told him to run. We’d get torn apart if we stayed there. As it was, I got stung bad on my right calf, not as bad on my left calf, and a couple through my shirt on my chest and back. I could hear the runners behind hitting that section with cries and profanity. I hadn’t been stung by a wasp since I was a kid but was pretty sure I wasn’t allergic. I heard at least one runner took a life flight out of the Canyon from the wasp stings. My right leg throbbed with each step, but the dude abides and kept going.
Sunrise lit up the ridge with the Radar Domes prominent at the summit. I was stuck in a conga line for a ways created by another “clogger” who didn’t want to step off the trail to let runners by. I looked at it as a positive as it forced me to go easy and conserve matches. We hit a wide section and all the runners surging by him seemed to shame him into stepping aside. The last mile up is probably the worse with about 1300ft of vertical on a loose, rocky trail. I put my head down and next thing I knew I was at the top of the ridge.
Near the top of the Bair Canyon climb.
Sunrise over Bair Canyon.
Sunrise over Radar Dome.
The trail dumped me out onto a well-maintained jeep road. It was a gradual grade uphill, but I knew it would be a long runnable stretch in about a quarter mile. I hiked to flush out my legs and sent a text to my crew to bring Benadryl to Big Mountain just in case my leg swelled up to twice its normal size.
When the road curved down, I took off. I knew it would be about 7 miles of steady downhill running. I have definitely improved as a mountain goat this year, but my strength is still steady running. I logged a bunch on 8:00 to 9:00 miles in this section while keeping my HR below 140.
I hit the water-only aid station at Grobben’s Shed at mile 11 pulling out my soft flasks with just Tailwind powder. John Grobben (the race director) was there and filled my bottles. I told him about the wasps and to expect some hurting runners coming in.
Back to steady running until I hit Arthur’s Fork around mile 14, where I knew from training the route would veer off the jeep road onto lightly-used singletrack. I would have missed the turn in training without the GPS route on my Fenix 5. Inexplicably, it was unmarked. I knew it was the way and took it. Other runners started shouting that I was going the wrong way, but I told them “this is the way.” I confirmed it in a short distance by finally seeing a marker. I’m guessing a lot of runners got lost there.
When the singlerack crossed a stream, I pulled out my buff and soaked it. I also tossed my EN visor in. It was already heating up. I marched up the mile or so climb to Bountiful B station at mile 16.5. I grabbed my drop bag and switched out my soft flasks. I pulled out my arm coolers and soaked them in ice water. I made my first mental error of the day by leaving a soft flask sitting on the table. I noticed I only had one about a half mile away. I figured I could get to the next aid station at Sessions (mile 20.7) and still be okay.
We were back on jeep road but it was mostly uphill. I marched along at a steady clip. Right before Sessions there is a step ankle-twister downhill. I made it okay and rolled into Session aid station. The theme of this aid station was Wild West. Many of the volunteers had cowboy hats and fake mustaches. I had an extra empty soft flask, so I filled it with Gu Roctane and the other with water. I knew the next section to Swallow Rocks was mentally tough because it was singletrack that went up or down, making it hard to get into a rhythm. I drank a half liter of water and ate a cookie.
The course goes on the Great Western Trail after Sessions, starting with a climb. I deployed my poles and power hiked up. After a long climb, there was a rocky, technical descent. Another runner came up behind me on the descent, and I recognized him, Johnny Runner (his trail name). He lives down the street from me, and we meetup all the time on the trails of Corner Canyon near my house. He was completing his 10th Wasatch. He had given me tons of advice on preparing for this race. It was sure good to see a familiar face. The trail turned up and we climbed together, chatting about the day.
Picture another runner snapped of me and Johnny Runner.
Eventually John pulled ahead. The trail was finally runnable, so I settled into the flow state where time melts away. Next thing I knew I had gone through Swallow Rocks aid station, refilling my bottles and having a snack. I kept running along for a few miles until I could hear the noise from Big Mountain aid station at mile 32. I came around a corner and could see it about a half mile away. That was a big shot of motivation because I’d be picking up my first pacer, Justin. I picked up the pace.
Rolling into Big Mountain felt like a big accomplishment. This section kicked my ass in training, but I felt good, real good. I saw Justin waiting, looking concerned. He had Benadryl and asked if I needed it. I looked at my leg. There was a red disk the size of a silver dollar, but it didn’t hurt much anymore. I said I thought I was fine but bring some just in case. I sat down while Justin refilled my bottles and switched out some gear from my drop bag. He came back and said, “man, you look good!” I was right on schedule, doing this section in under the 9 hours I predicted. I said, “feel good!” That wouldn’t last long…
Big Mountain to Lamb’s Canyon: The Devil’s Armpit
Highlight: Surviving the second hottest Wasatch 100 on record by staying soaking wet
Lowlight: Death marching through the Devil’s Armpit in inferno temperatures
Coming down into Big Mountain I could feel the heat. I loaded up the ice pockets in my Orange Mud armcoolers with ice and stuck a Ziplock bag of ice in the back pocket of my Salomon running vest. I felt the heat on the first climb. I didn’t take log to realize the goal would be to survive this section.
Justin was a pro. He did Wastach the past two years, coming in under 30 hours each time. I paced him in this section last year. He was in rough shape coming into Big Mountain. I loaded him with Coke and had two bags filled with ice, the old EN go-bag trick. He thought that was brilliant and said it never occurred to him. I put one on his back on poured the ice-cold water from mine over him. He made it through the section feeling better than he did the year before. I needed him to do the same thing for me now.
We chatted until I could only speak in one-word responses. The heat was stealing my strength like someone holding a baseball-sized rock of kryptonite in front of Superman. He told me stories and soaked me with ice water every 5-10 minutes. I don’t remember much of the section except finally seeing Alexander Ridge aid station down the trail.
Coming into Alexander Ridge aid station.
Alexander Ridge at mile 39.5 looked like a MASH unit. Indeed, that was the theme of the aid station, with volunteers dressed in green tee shirts that said M*A*S*H. But I mean the runners looked like wounded soldiers. Hell, even pacers were throwing up.
I sat for a couple minutes and downed a couple Cokes. I told Justin to fill one of my soft flasks with Coke – I was going to need it to make it to Lamb’s. I didn’t want to linger since most of the other runners looked like their day was over. I got up and said, “let’s do this – it’s not going to get any better sitting here!”
The next section is appropriately named the Devil’s Armpit. I am pretty sure the temperature was exactly that of the surface of the Sun. I knew after the slog up the grassy hill that it was about 2 runnable miles into Lamb’s Canyon, and that kept me going. Justin kept soaking me with ice water. We came across a runner laying in the shade saying he was overheated. We asked if he needed anything, but he declined.
Baking in the Devil’s Armpit.
Finally, we hit the ridge and we could run down singletrack. It was cooling down and I could form coherent thoughts again. It felt good to run. We settled into a comfortable pace. Lamb’s is a bit of torture because you run right by the aid station but still have about a mile to go.
At Lamb’s, Justin got me a burger. I was able to force down about half. I grabbed some gels from my drop bag while he refilled my bottles. I’d do the rest of the race with one bottle of Coke and one water.
Lamb’s Canyon to Brighton: Night Falls
Highlight: Power hiking up the Wasatch Crest at night was magical
Lowlight: Forgetting to consume my energy drink at Brighton, setting me up for a battle to stay awake later
We weren’t sure if it was still going to be hot, so we brought a bag of ice. As soon as we got on the paved road leading up the canyon the temperature dropped about 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I was soaking wet and started shivering. I took off my armcoolers and buff, picking up the pace to warm up. Robert, a local runner I know, came running down the road in civilian clothes and cheered for me. I think he was helping another runner because I’d see him again later.
I ate a banana while we hiked up the road and felt life returning to me. After about 1.5 miles on the road, we took singletrack that would start the long climb up Bare Ass Pass. It wasn’t the toughest climb of the day but also not the easiest. I was back to normal and kept up a good pace. We passed a couple other runners. Near the top of the pass, it was getting dark. Justin had his Ultraspire Lumen 600 from the drop bag at Lamb’s but mine was in my drop bag at Big Water. I spread them out on purpose in case a drop bag got lost (it’s happed twice before) so we’d have at least one bright light. I had my compact Petzyl Zipka headlamp from the climb up Bair Canyon. He gave me his Lumen and took the headlamp. The Zipka is a great backup headlamp because is has a retractable strap, fitting easily into your pocket. It still puts out about 200 lumens.
We ran down from the pass into Millcreek Canyon. The trail gets a lot of traffic, making it buffed out. Somewhere half way down the descent I told Justin, “I’ve got a prairie dog trying to stick his head out.” I remembered there was a restroom at the bottom of the trail, so I just had to hold off the prairie dog for another 15 minutes. Of course, that turned out to be torture. But we made it, and I achieved another first: the first time I took a shit in a race.
The next section was one of my least favorite, a 3 mile march up the paved road up Millcreek Canyon. There were a surprising number of cars coming down the road, so we had to stay on our toes. About half way we heard this god-awful noise. I thought it was a wounded animal. Our lights revealed it was two runners puking into Millcreek. The damage from the heat was setting in for many runners.
When we got to Upper Big Water aid station, the temperature was probably around 40F. This is a notorious cold spot on the course as the creek run right under the aid station. Runners were under blankets shivering. In the short time I was there, I saw a couple runners drop. The volunteers told me it was a tough day and there were a lot of DNFs.
I drank broth while Justin grabbed by drop bag. I got my Lumen 600, a Salomon pullover, gloves, and skullcap out. I dumped my wet armcoolers but kept the buff. I knew I’d face the heat again in the morning, and the buff is super helpful at mitigating it. I got it as schwag at the finish of Speedgoat, and it saved me on many of my training runs in the heat.
We marched into the darkness. This was the long, long climb up to the Wasatch Crest. It wasn’t particularly steep most of the way, just a couple hours of climbing that started to get mentally draining. We settled in with a female runner and her pacer. They had done a few 100s, so we shared war stories. The pacer was preparing to do a 100 solo, so I shared my experience from the Bear last year. I’ve got to say it is infinitely better having a pacer during the night. I went to a dark, dark place at night at the Bear. Power hiking through up the Wasatch Crest with Justin was a damn good time!
We passed Dog Lake in the dark and knew that the next aid station at Desolation Lake was about 2 miles away at mile 59. The volunteers pack everything into Desolation Lake. Of course, it seemed like an eternity but eventually we smelled smoke from their campfire. We were greeted like heros. The volunteers got me a quesadilla, which I slowly ate. We got a lot of comments about our Lumen 600 lights, about how bright they were. We asked how the other runners looked, and the volunteers told us they look good if they make it this far, but a lot hadn’t made it here yet.
We had one last grunt up to the top of the Wasatch Crest. Then we hit some runnable sections over the next couple miles to Scotts Peak. I was feeling mentally fatigued from all the hiking but running snapped me back into the race. Just before Scotts Peak, we came upon a runner drunkenly stumbling along the trail. We asked it he as okay, but he said he was fine. I’d leapfrog him much of the race. Sometimes he’d look great, and sometimes he looked like he couldn’t take another step.
We reloaded at Scotts Peak. They had oranges, and I swear those were the best oranges of my life! All that was left to do on this section was run down Puke Hill and beyond to Brighton. I was looking forward to changing clothes because I was crusty from the inferno earlier in the day. The downhill was a blur and next thing I knew I walked into the “morgue” at Brighton, where my next pacer Chris was waiting for me. Brighton is usually where most drops occur, which earns it the “morgue” nickname. This year, it looks like most of the drops happened earlier, probably due to the heat.
I was happy to see Chris. He’s my neighbor and loves to go on stupid adventures with me. He was a competitive cyclist on the University of Texas cycling team and has an amazing capacity to suffer. He pre-ran the section from Brighton to Top of the Wall (at mile 91) with me, so I knew I could just follow him the rest of the way.
Brighton to the Finish: Just an Easy 50k (not really)
Highlight: Running strong the last 13 miles and moving up over 20 positions
Lowlight: Falling asleep for micro-naps on the technical descent into Ant Knolls
I changed, and we got out of the morgue. Shortly after leaving the aid station, a porcupine the size of a large dog rushed towards us aggressively. I didn’t even know porcupines could get that big. I think he was pissed that all these runners were disturbing his night. We skirted around it. In addition to the Lumen 600 I got him, Chris had strapped his MTB light to his shoulder. That thing put out about 1800 lumens. I think he temporarily blinded the porcupine, and it went after some other runners.
We’d get the last major climb out of the way right out of the box, Catherine Pass. This is also the highest point in the course at about 10,500. I’ve done this section several times and never considered it difficult. It was a different story with 68 miles and about 19,000ft of vertical in my legs. I kept trudging up the pass. We encountered the stumbling runner again who almost stumbled off a cliff. He sat down and said, “I’m just fucking about.” When we made it to the top, Chris changed the battery in my Lumen which had faded to maybe 300 lumens. It had been on for 6-7 hours. The new battery did the trick.
We started dropping down the other side of the pass toward Ant Knolls. This was a treacherous descent when I did it in the daytime. Tonight, it was made more treacherous because I was falling asleep. I’d made my second big mistake of the race at Brighton by forgetting to drink my energy drink. In the chaos of the morgue I forgot all about it. I’d fall asleep for maybe a second complete with vivid dream imagery and then snap awake. I told Chris I was having micro-naps. He got behind me and lit me up with his MTB light. That did the trick. I made it to Ant Knolls without faceplanting
Coming into Ant Knolls (note the disco ball above the entrance).
For some reason Gummy Bears were delicious at Ant Knolls. I stuffed my cheek with them. I slammed down a Gu Energy Gel, which helped a little.
After Ant Knolls, there was one last kick in the nuts climbing the Grunt. It’s maybe 10 minutes of climbing but it is at least a 20% grade. I knew when we got up on the ridge it would be a long runnable section into Poleline Pass aid station. I didn’t feel sleepy while running.
Running along the ridgeline kept me engaged. We jogged into Poleline Pass at mile 75 a couple miles later. I had another energy drink in my drop bag and wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. It was just starting to get light out, so we stuffed a bunch of nighttime gear in my drop bag. They had pancakes, and I slowly ate one. The only lasting damage from the inferno the previous day was I had no appetite.
I slammed down the energy drink, and then we headed out. This section was just indescribable during the sunrise with Timp in the distance. I felt like a phoenix reborn. I had all the energy in the world. I couldn’t believe my legs weren’t sore.
Sunrise over Mt Timp on day two.
I just had two technical descents called the Glide and the Plunge, collectively known as Irv’s Torture Chamber, and then the last 15 miles were on mostly jeep roads. The Glide looked almost like a wash that cut down the side of the mountain. This wasn’t bad in training but was more challenging with over 80 miles in my legs. My trekking poles saved me from falling a couple times. The Plunge was not as bad.
Next thing I knew the singletrack spit us out into Pot Hollow aid station at mile 85. This was a huge mental boost, because the hardest part was over. It was starting to get hot again, so I soaked my buff in water and put it on my head like a “do rag.” I had an EN visor at the next aid station, Staton. I scarfed down a bunch of fruit. Then we started marching up the jeep road. It was about 2 miles of climbing then it would be mostly downhill or flat the last 13 miles. After running this section in training, I’d pick runs that ended with a runnable downhill section to prepare.
As we got to the top of the climb, I put on my headphones and told Chris, “Let’s run!” I was moving good, and we started passing other runners. When they’d see us coming, they’d start running. That motivated me to run harder to pass them. I’d do a racer pass going by fast and confident so they wouldn’t be tempted to throw down. They were usually gracious and cheered us on. I love that about the ultra community.
We stopped at Staton aid station long enough to get my EN visor and back up armcoolers from my drop bag and make sure my bottles were topped off. Just down the road at Top of the Wall my buddy Greg and his girlfriend Colette were waiting for me. They were excited when I got into Wasatch and volunteered to crew me. I figured it would be good to have fresh legs for the final 9 miles to get me running, and Colette was waiting to pace me.
I kept running until we came to the intersection at Top of the Wall. I saw Robert again, who I saw the previous evening running back down Lamb’s Canyon, and went over to shake his hand. He was pacing another runner. He said I looked strong and to go get that finish. I found Greg and Colette just beyond. It felt so good to be out in the mountains enjoying the day with friends!
Colette and I made our way through the 2 mile section that cuts across a cattle ranch. In training, a herd of cows was blocking the way, forcing me to slog through a bog filled with cow shit. I was relieved they weren’t blocking the way today. It was great having a fresh pacer to chat with.
We hit the last aid station at Decker Canyon, and I recognized my friend Betsy working the aid station. She and her boyfriend Dave had done an awesome job crewing me at the Leadville MTB 100 last year. I gave her a sweaty hug and she said I looked great. I felt great, like this was one of the best days of my life. I soaked my armcoolers and filled them with ice. I knew it was going to be hot making the trip along Deer Creek Reservoir. I filled up a bladder with ice water so I could keep myself soaked. Betsy snapped a quick picture to send to my wife. Then we started running again.
We reeled in a few more runners on the gradual descent down the Deer Creek Reservoir. Then we took a gravel path for about 5 miles that ran along the lake. It was a rolling path, and I’d run the flats and downhills, and then power hike the uphills. We made good time. When I’d see a runner ahead, I’d say, “let’s go get them!”
The path spit us out onto a road that was about a half mile from the finish at Soldier’s Hollow. I could hear the cheering and see the flags waving above Soldier Hollow. I said, “no more walking.” We took off. It was uphill going into the finish, but I was not going to stop running. Apparently, when my crew was waiting someone asked my wife if another runner was me. She said, “no, they’re walking. Gabe wouldn’t walk.”
The Finish!
Highlight: Running across the finish line with my daughter Zoey!
My youngest daughter Zoey loves running into the finish with me. I saw her sitting on a rock up at the final turn into the finish. I shouted, “Zozo, let’s run!” She settled in beside me. My other pacers were awesome, but Zozo was my favorite. I’ll never forget running in with her. Never.
My wife Moun and oldest daughter Skye met us at the finish. Skye made a sign the said “Daddy You Rule Like a Unicorn!” I spent an entire day in the spectacular Wasatch Mountains surrounded by friends and family. Yes, on this day I did rule like a unicorn.
Best sight of the day!
You can watch my finish for yourself. Retrace my route on Relive.
Key Take Aways
· My training and preparation were probably the best of any race I’ve done. A week after the race, I’m not sore at all. I was probably the least sore I’ve been after any race this season. I’ve been able to do easy runs the last couple days. Whereas, I couldn’t run for a month after the Bear 100. I think the three-week taper also helped. I showed up with much more pop in my legs than my customary two-week taper.
· Pacers make a huge difference in a 100, especially at night. When I got into the Bear 100 last year on two weeks’ notice, I had to go solo. It was a dark place at night. When I was struggling in this race, I’d just fall in behind Justin or Chris.
· My heat management protocol worked. This is pretty much standard stuff for EN, but most other endurance athletes haven’t discovered it. I saw few other runners filling bags of ice to take with them. Heat is never going to be my strength, but I can survive it.
· My mountain goat hiking improved this year. I was routinely passed by hikers at the Bear, and then would catch them on the runnable sections. This course requires balance. Most people think of it as a mountain goat course, but it has probably 20-25 miles of runnable singletrack and 20 miles of runnable jeep roads. My strengths were running singletrack and steady running. I improved the mountain goat dimension by putting in tons of vertical.
· I accomplished goals #1 (run humble, run grateful) and #2 (have fun and finish injury free) but missed #3 of cracking 30 hours coming in at 32:56. And I’m cool with that. It was a tough day with a DNF rate around 38% where it is usually around 30%. The DNS rate was unusually high, and I heard speculation the it may be so high because athletes saw the weather forecast.
· I still haven’t cracked the code of running through the night. For the next 100, I’ll need to experiment with possibly taking a 10-15 minute power nap at night and/or some kind of energy drink / stimulant. I am not a night person by nature, so staying up all night is already tough – let alone doing it in the middle of a 100.
What’s Next
First, a big thank you to Coach Patrick and the EN team! I got so much support and mojo from the team going into this race! Four years ago when I signed up for EN, doing an Ironman seemed crazy. EN gave me a new definition of crazy, with epic adventures pushing that definition each year.
Wasatch is the capstone for this season. I’m organizing a Grand Canyon R2R2R adventure for late October or early November, but don’t have any races on the calendar for the remainder of the year.
Looking ahead to next year, I’ve done two of the most mountainous 100s out there. I’d like tackle one that plays more to my strength – namely, that I can run steady for a long time. Next year I’m thinking of going back to Leadville to get redemption on the Trail 100. I’m planning to push my definition of crazy once more with the Moab 240 as my big race.
Whatever the next year holds, one thing is for certain: I will continue to rule like a unicorn!
I only had to run 100 miles for this!
Comments
That's awesome @Gabe Peterson! Continue to inspire and chasing dreams!
Incredible race prep and execution @Gabe Peterson ! And your RR was a great read! Congrats on yet another Ultra Finish!
Huge congratulations @Gabe Peterson🦄!. Your preparation and execution were incredible. Thanks for leading the way. I'm looking forward to running with you next year!
Great finish Gabe. You can "hear" the fun in your report and in the end, that's what its all about. Mt Timp looks beautiful.
Great report @Gabe Peterson! I really love the pics, the scenery and your personal shots at various points.
It is difficult for me to wrap my head around covering 80 miles on foot....and then truly appreciating the mental and physical feats of knowing you have yet another 20 miles to go and getting that done.
Getting through the night seems truly dark, difficult and yet, awesome.
Sincere congratulations and thanks for sharing!
Knowledge, prep, execution, experience and a lot of BAMF. Like Bear your recall of such a long event blows me away. Respect!
Thanks @Jeff Kane and @Rory Gumina! Appreciate the mojo!
@Tim Sullivan thanks! Starting to think about next year. Rattler looks like it should be a blast! I set the date of the Moab camp so it will work as a camp week for Rattler. I'd like to go for the Rattler King MTB+Run combo platter -- just need to find a place to rent a quality MTB. I'm 90% set on the Leadville Run 100 for next year, unless I get into Western States or Hard Rock. Are you planning to do Moab 240?
@Gary Lewis it was the nutritional secret sauce we discovered at the Moab Camp of Rocky Mountain oysters that got me through it! 😉 The race definitely lived up to the heaven and hell tagline. But it was mostly heaven!
@Shaughn Simmons thanks for all the encouragement over the last four years! For me, running through the night is the crux of a 100. That's when the literal and figurative darkness sets in. But there can't be light without the dark. Man, the feeling at the finish is so damn good! Have you thought about a 100? With your engine and mental toughness you'd be a beast!
@tim cronk thanks for all the guidance on my crazy adventures! It's easy to remember one of the best days of your life! I remember the Bear and Wasatch it like the day I got married, the days my daughters were born, my first Ironman at Arizona. I wonder if it will ever become less memorable to do a 100. Maybe after Moab 240...
I discovered one benefit of doing all the training with trekking poles...my upper body strength has remained consistent. I did a strength workout this morning I haven't done in a few months. Usually I lose a lot of upper body strength after a long endurance block. If anything, I felt stronger.
I enjoyed following you during race day and compare where you were compare to your race plan.
I love how you write your RR, specially the conclusions of it so you can keep on learning.
Before you did the race, I had never heard of it, so while you were racing it, I read about it and because of you, its one race I wanna do.
looking fwd to finally meet you next year in Austin and then at Moab !
As for your comments regarding your memories of that course, I feel exactly the same now, I can almost describe turn by turns the course
rest well!
@Francis Picard I knew you were watching, so it motivated me to not wimp out. :) Wasatch is definitely a classic race worthy of ever ultrarunner's bucket list! I'm just not sure how much harder you could make a 100. If you come out to do it, I'll crew/pace you!
Great race recap @Gabe Peterson this is an amazing accomplishment. Loved the pictures. I'm curious other than the yellow jackets and porcupine did you see any dangerous wildlife? Other than the fear of getting lost on one of these adventures I would think that bears and mountain lions would be a close second for me. I love the part in the race where you decide to run people down. That is badass. Everyone else is tanking and you are like..."let's go get that dude." Love it.
I think it took me just under 30 hours to read this report. Do I get a Cougar on my EN badge list?
I used to live in SLC, and this terrain is the real deal. I am in awe of anyone who even trains on the snippets of this course, much less actually does the whole thing in less than a day and a half. Keep rolling, @Gabe Peterson
@Jeff Horn thanks! The only other wildlife encounter, or near encounter, was with a moose. When my pacer and I were descending into Brighton, we caught up to another runner who asked, "did you see the giant moose laying by the side of the trail back there?" Apparently, we ran right by it without seeing it. Moose are probably the most dangerous animal you can encounter in the Wasatch Mountains because they are aggressive and can charge at up to 35MPH. I've never seen a bear (saw a bunch in the San Gabriel Mountains when I lived in So Cal) nor a cougar. I'm guessing a few hundred smelly trail runners would scare them off. I usually carry pepper spray when trail running, but that is more likely to be used in a human or dog encounter. :)
@Al Truscott Ha, you've totally earned the Cougar badge if you read the entire report! I tried to make it skim friendly with highlights, lowlights, and lots of pictures. Writing the entire thing out is my way of getting closure on the race. It usually takes about a week or two for a 100 to unpack everything that happened. You should come out to SLC sometime and we'll revisit your old stomping grounds!