“This is a long (run)
for someone with nothing to think about”
A hundred miles is a long way, despite what Karl Meltzer
says. Somehow this hundo didn’t seem as
long as the last one, but still a long ways.
While running I’ve found that it is a great time to think, and more
often than that, it is a great time to not think. I often wear headphones and listen to music
while on long runs and this race was no different as I listened to music
throughout the night. Therefore, this
recap, like my running playlist will have Modest Mouse lyrics throughout. For some twee, indie music fans it may be
entertaining, for the rest of you it will be annoying, sorry.
The Pinhoti 100 is a point to point 100 mile trail race in
North-east Alabama. The race follows the
Pinhoti trail through the Talladega National Forest in rolling mountains and
over the highest point in Alabama, Mt. Cheaha.
Below is the course profile for those that don’t “think I know my geography pretty damn well”.
I was lucky enough to run this race due to my friend
Troy. Troy was already heading to
Alabama and had a crew and accommodations figured out and then I finagled my way
into it. We flew down on Friday and met
Bob and Hays (Bob’s son), our crew and hosts.
After a little grocery shopping, settling into the hotel it was time for
the pre-race dinner and hotel. It was
weird being in a running community that is not my own. At the Minnesota races there are plenty of
friends and acquaintances to visit with and tell old war stories, but here I
didn’t know anyone except for Troy, our crew and one woman who also ran
Beaverhead this summer. The pre-race
briefing mainly consisted of saying that it would be really wet and to “head south”.
I should preface the recap by saying that I was not prepared
for this race. I joined pretty last
minute and only had a couple of weeks to cram for the big test. In the 23 weeks leading up to this race I ran
756 miles, that may seem like a lot to a non-runner, but it isn’t. Additionally, before my race my longest run
for the year was a 55k in June. For
comparison’s sake, I ran over 1,200 miles leading up to my prior 100 mile
race. I had a bad feeling the nearly 450
mile deficit was going to hurt me. It
was now too late to worry about preparation, it was time to “find out the beginning, the end and the
rest of it”.
Following a decent night’s sleep it was off to the start
line with Troy, Bob and Hays. It had
rained all night and was drizzling slightly as we prepared to start. We were starting at aid station 2 and doing
an out and back to aid station one since weather conditions had ruined roads
going to the original start. This
reduced the race by approximately 1/10th of a mile, but the RD had
assumed us he had added enough to the end of the race to make up for it so we
could have a “Karma’s Payment”. The beginning was pretty uneventful, just a
bunch of wet runners in the forest starting at the turn of the hour. I decided I wanted to start out a bit faster
than usual so as to avoid conga lines when we hit the single track and to make
up some time so I wouldn’t have to run the most technical sections in the dark.
The out and back to aid station 1 was pretty uneventful, yet
a little bit fast for my liking. We
spread out pretty quickly, but I got to know a couple other runners, one of
whom I would leapfrog and visit with over the next 27 hours, Kip. The only eventful thing to happen in the first
half-marathon was getting stung by a yellow jacket about 7 mile into the
race. I had a feeling that this race was
going to feel like “I was in heaven, I
was in hell, believe in neither but fear them as well”. Coming back to aid station 2 and through aid
station 3, mile 18.2, I used only a handheld.
At aid station 3 I changed into my race vest and got to work chewing up
miles. Although it rained throughout the
morning and into the afternoon, it had become quite humid for a northerner like
me and I realized that I was getting quite dehydrated. Although not miserable, I knew if I didn’t
start drinking more I would be in trouble and started to “drink away the part of the day that I cannot sleep away”. I was running well and feeling good. In fact I was running well ahead of schedule. I should mention that we had a handful of
creek crossings at this point. Given all
of the rain there were numerous places that we had to “float on, ok” through creeks.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been as soaked as I was for this race.
I came to aid station 7, mile 41, well over an hour ahead of my expected time. I had fallen in with some solid runners and made up time on some really runnable trail. The only problem with coming in early was my crew wasn’t there. I walked through the parking lots, paced the road, used the bathroom and ate and drank while waiting for them. I typically would have moved on without the crew, but they had my headlamps, jacket and new Garmin. It turns out Troy had some major stomach issues and dropped and the crew went back to pick him up which is why they weren’t there. After about 35 minutes my crew showed up. I grabbed the gear I needed and left as fast as I could. I’ll admit this threw me a bit off my game as the standing around and worrying and thinking. Watching 30 or so runners go by me was frustrating, but I was determined to make up the time. I took off fast down Blue Hell, the most technical section of trail. This is where the trail drops off the highest point in Alabama. I was in such a hurry that I missed the trail markers directing me to the trail and instead continued bombing to the bottom. After not seeing any trail markers I sheepishly climbed back up the mountain to where I should have gone. Now it was dark and I was frustrated, but there was nothing to do about it but run. I still had about 100k to go so no use in crying over lost time.
From roughly 5:00 p.m. until 6:00 a.m I would be in the dark
with no moon. This was the darkest race
I’ve ever seen, not only was there no moon, but it rained constantly and it was
foggy and misty throughout. I typically
like to shut my headlamp off occasionally and look at the stars and there would
be none of that on this race. It was
also pretty spread out regarding other runners.
Although I was slowly picking off runners that had passed me at mile 41,
there were long stretched where I was all by myself. I felt like “And I’m lonesome when you’re around, and I’m never lonesome when I’m by
myself”. Thankfully I enjoy the
solitude, but it was nice to pass back and forth with Kip a time or two through
the night. I fell into a nice pace that
was really inline with my plan even if it felt like I “broke my pace and ran out of time” while moving through the night.
Aid stations were great throughout this race. I forget which aid station it was that had a
fully stocked bar and a big screen TV showing the Alabama game, but it was
awesome. Since I was so far from home
and crew access was limited I really lived off of the aid stations. Animal crackers, M&Ms, PB&J
sandwiches, grilled cheese, quesadillas and pierogis were my go to foods during
the race. Every aid station had great
volunteers and a good spread. I also
drank a lot of coke. “So we’re drinkin’,
drinkin’ drinkin’, drinkin’ coca-coca cola, I can feel it rollin’ right on down
oh right on down my throat, and as we’re heading down the road towards tiny
cities made of ashes, I’m gonna get dressed up in plastic gonna shake hands
with the masses. Oh no.”
Eventually I worked up the last big climb to Pinnacle, mile
75ish. I hit this aid station at about
2:30 a.m. and it was windy and cold. The
aid station had a bit of carnage with people sitting down in a hypothermic state around a fire and
heater. I decided I wanted none of this
and quickly drank and hit the trail again.
“It’s not day and it’s not night,
but it’s alright on ice, alright”.
For the next three and half hours it would be a cold march trying to
stay warm and trying to stay on the trail.
Even though it was raining hard there was a thick fog that rolled in
reducing visibility to only a few feet in front of you. This made navigation difficult until the sun
came up. This section was the longest and
most miserable of the race, “It’s been a
long time, which agrees with this watch of mine”. The next few sections consisted of me “thinking about nothing, looking at the thin
air, breathing up the oxygen”.
Thankfully as I approached mile 85 the sun started to come up.
People told me that from mile 85 on that it is all downhill;
this is a lie. Although the course gets
significantly easier with long sections of dirt road intertwined with trail,
the rolling hills on the road drove me nuts.
I really just wanted to be done with the race at this point and started
picking up the pace to get it over with.
My feet were hamburger, I was chaffed and sore and my legs felt like I
had run 90 or so miles. That said, I was
determined to cut some more time off from my expected pace. I entered mile 85.5 aid station at about 6:20
a.m., well ahead of my expected 7:54 a.m. arrival. After a quick change of socks (I tore on of
my shoes open at some point during the night and my shoe and sock were full of
mud and debris) I was on my way. This is
where I got motivated by the simple thought, “You’re walking down the street your face, your lips, your hips, your
eyes, they meet; you’re not hungry though”.
I was hungry both physically and mentally and wanted to finish strong.
I dropped the hammer (as much as you can after 85 miles) and
started to have good splits through the last 15 miles. I entered the last aid station, mile 95.1, at
about 8:45 a.m. There was a nice sign
that said “5 miles to finish, 2 mile of trail and 3 miles of road”. Math late in an ultra feels like the “never ending math equation” but I was
pretty sure I could go under a 15 minute/mile pace through to the end. I left in a hurry and started to run. The trail section was runnable, but I knew I
needed to move a bit faster on the road to make it. I started passing people almost immediately
and passed 6-8 people in this last section; one of whom was Kip. As I watched my Garmin and looked for the
lights of the high school stadium where the race ended I was disappointed to
hit 5 miles without a finish line, then 5.25 mile, then 5.50 miles and so
on. The only thought I had was “This’ll
never end, this’ll never end, this’ll never stop”. Eventually I see the lights of the stadium,
but only have about a minute to cross the line under 27 hours. I sprint through the gate and on to the track. I’m watching the seconds tick by on my Garmin
and after a herculean effort cross the line in 26:59:59. Ecstatic about my time I grab a chair and sit
down and begin visiting with other runners and my crew. Eventually I wander over to the computer with
times and see that they logged me a 27:00:10.
Eleven seconds slower than reality.
Not a big deal, but still kind of a big deal.
Overall this was a great race and a great experience. I feel much better in recovery than I did
after my first 100. I’ve always been
lucky when it comes to these things that my stomach has never failed me and I
haven’t had any devastating injuries.
Although the weather made it brutal, this is a well-organized and nice
hundred miler. If I were to voice one
displeasure, it would be the littering.
I have never been to another ultra where I have seen cups and other
garbage thrown in the woods like I did here.
Other than that, this was a great race and I have nothing to complain
about. The race had a lower finish rate
this year than any other year that I could find at about 52%. Below is a chart that compares my planned or expected times for each segment to my actual times. I love it when a plan comes together. Now I have two balls in for Western States
and we’ll see what the next year holds for running.
Gear List:
Asics singlet
North Face shorts
Salomon jacket
Headsweats hat
Altra Lone Peak 2.5 shoes
Drymax socks
Camelback handheld
Ultraspire Alpha race vest (loved this)
Ultraspire Collapsible bottles
Black Diamond Icon and Storm headlamps
Garmin 220 and Garmin Fenix 3 gps
