Subject: AC 100 Race Report - My first 100 Date: Wed, 04 Oct 2000 10:25:58 -0700 From: "Andrew Wilkins" Listers, Here is my report of the AC 100 this past weekend: It all started after the Phoenix National Trail 50 Miler in January, 2000. I could no longer fight off the urge to sign up for my first 100 miler. Having completed four 50*s I thought I was ready. I convinced my wife that training for a hundred would not screw up our family life and sent off an entry form for the Vermont 100 seven months away. My training began. I ran the San Juan 50K in March and prepared for the Zane Grey Highline 50 mile in April. Disaster struck on April 15th. After three consecutive 75 mile weeks my IT Band flared up and I was forced to drop out of Highline, Holcomb Valley, and, eventually, Vermont. The injury just would not heal and I refused to give in until the last minute. I finally succumbed to a doctors visit and physical therapy and by early July I was ready to resume training. I looked at the schedule and chose to sign up for Angeles Crest at the end of September. My training began again and this time my body held together. The big test was the three day Labor Day training camp at which we ran the entire AC course over three days. After surviving that and then completing a Grand Canyon double crossing the following weekend I thought I was ready. I began to taper. It felt good to rest. I was nervous, excited, and completely distracted from all else in life. Race eve came and I arrived in Wrightwood late. I scrambled to get my drop bags on the truck and said a prayer to Buddha that they would actually arrive at the aid stations (they all did safely arrive thanks to the way-beyond-the-call-of-duty-actions of the race committee.) At the medical check my pulse and blood pressure were both unusually high but my weight was just right. I went down to Victorville and got four hours of sleep. 4:30 AM came awfully fast. The 5:00 AM start was euphoric. After the setbacks and the months of intense training I could finally run the race. My first hundred...wow! As I walked the first climb out of Wrightwood my mind raced with hopes and fears. I tried to remain controlled and focused. I knew I was in for a long day. The arrival at the top of the climb was wonderful. Coinciding with the first hint of light coming from the eastern sky I began the beautiful ridge run along the Pacific Crest Trail to the first aid station at Inspiration Point. This section of the course was cool, breezy, and beautiful as the views spread out on both sides of the ridge. At this stage in the race the runners were pretty close together and talking of all sorts of things from Hardrock to hardware (seriously) it was great! The first aid station was a quick bottle refill and then it was on to the short section to Vincent Gap from which begins the major climb up to the highest point on the course, Mt. Baden-Powell (9,300 ft). I enjoyed that climb. Walking every step from the parking lot to the summit I found myself getting into a comfortable rhythm and enjoying my surroundings. I ate plenty of solid food on this stretch and tried to stay up on my fluids. At this point I began thinking that the middle section of the race was going to be hot. After the summit I enjoyed the long and steady downhill to the Islip Saddle aid station at 25 miles. At this first medical check point I weighed in and met my wife and kids (who were crewing for me) for the first time. I really began to get into the race at this point. I had a yogurt with Granola on the steep short climb up to the top of Williamson and then hammered the downhill to Eagle's Roost aid station where I picked up a third water bottle and began the hot traverse of Cooper Canyon. I was concerned about calories and fluids at this point and made an extreme effort to keep aware of what was going in and what was coming out. It seems to me that it would be easy to forget about these things at this relatively early state in the race when your feeling good. I walked into Cloudburst (Mile 38) and knew it was time to take a look at my feet. This was the first time in the race that I sat down in a chair while my crew changed my socks and cleaned off my feet (I would do this again at Chantry). There were no blisters yet but I could feel them coming. I drank my first Coke here and ate a roast beef, avocado, and cream cheese burrito. It tasted really good! It was off to Three Points on a meandering downhill section on which I hoped I could make some time. Three Points (Mile 42) was a quick stop to fuel up before tackling the hottest part of the course (for me) the section from Three Points through Mt. Hillyer and onto Chilao where I would pick up my pacer. The hot sections here seemed to be sapping a lot of people. I passed a couple runners who seemed to be having a little trouble but generally people were slogging through and making the best of the situation. The Sulfur Springs Road took a lot out of me and I was grateful for the outstanding course marking through the section the locals call *Bedrock* (I had gotten hopelessly lost here during the training weekend). After Chilao things got better, the weather cooled a bit, my stomach settled, and the stretch to Shortcut Saddle seemed to go very fast. While my quads were beginning to feel a little saucy, in general, I was in decent shape and I was pretty much on schedule. From Shortcut I estimated that it would get dark for me somewhere on the way down from Newcomb Saddle. Good thing I had a flashlight at Newcomb. The downhill from Shortcut was a blur. After saying goodbye to my crew (I would only see them one more time, at Chantry) I worked the downhill all the way to the concrete bridge. I was slowing on the downhills due to my quad situation but I was still able to manage a decent uphill pace on the road to Newcomb Saddle. The chicken teriyaki they were serving up there was downright orgasmic! I'm sure that that stuff was still with me to fuel my climb up Mt. Wilson more than two hours later. My quads recovered a little on the descent into Chantry (Mile 75) but as it was my first experience running in the dark it seemed to take a lot longer to get there than it did in the training run. Chantry was like a NASCAR pit stop at night. People were coming and going, flood lights were shining brightly, runners, pacers, and crews were strewn about the parking lot, food was cooking, music was blaring, and there was a general feeling of nervous excitement pervading the entire scene. Here at Chantry I changed into a pair of lightweight road shoes, had a nasty blister on my right heel lanced, changed socks for the last time, ate three cups of chicken soup, drank my first cup of coffee, grabbed a third bottle for the climb up Mt. Wilson, and changed into a dry long sleeve shirt. The nocturnal climb up Mt. Wilson was a bit scary. My legs got wobbly, the shadows created by my flashlight beam looked like snakes and rats coming to get me, a few trees jumped out to bump me in the shoulder, and I seemed to be overcome with fatigue. In short, I seemed to be feeling some sort of mental transformation. After reaching the Toll Road, therefore, I decided to walk until I got my head back together. I didn't want to get into Idlehour (Mile 83) in a state of delirium. After about 15 minutes of downhill hiking I was ready to run again. The soup and coffee at Idlehour tasted great. After an 8 minute stop I was ready to resume. Surprisingly, the climb up to Sam Merrill seemed to go quickly. In fact, at this point in the race I seemed to enjoy the uphill sections more than the downhill sections. I think because the quads were trashed and the darkness was scary, the slow pace of the uphills allowed me to get off into my own world more than the downhills. Since I had to concentrate so intensely on the downs at this point the mental muscles seemed to be unraveling. With eleven miles to go from Sam Merrill (mile 89), however, I allowed myself to begin thinking about successfully finishing for the first time. Sam Merrill to Millard (96 miles) has some serious technical downhills. Since it was night and I was very tired I was not at all in the mood for hammering this section. This was a real mentally draining part of the race for me because while I could see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel I could not push myself any more than I was. When Millard finally emerged I was relieved and rejuvenated. I left everything but one bottle at Millard and tried to hammer the last four miles to Johnson's Field. I left my pacer at this point and took the last miles on my own. When Jeff Hines and his pacer caught up to me a couple miles from the finish I latched onto them and together we finished quite strong. This section seemed to drift by as I began to comprehend the reality of completing my first 100 miler. The finish line scene was surreal. About 20 people were scattered about. Some runners were there eating or waiting for friends to come in. Crews were hovered around the radio tent checking runners* status. The guys at the tables had burgers, soup, and chili. Some people slept. The feeling that overwhelmed me as the reality sank in was satisfied exhaustion. Everything hurt and for the first time all day I allowed myself to show it. Simultaneous pain and joy can be difficult to deal with. While I was tired I could not sleep, while I was happy I could not laugh. It was like no other feeling in the world! I had run 100 miles! I was a finisher! There are so many people to thank that I cannot list them all. The Race Directors, the over 1,000 volunteers, my crew, my pacers, my family, my friends, all of them contributed to this accomplishment. It really does take a village to run 100 miles. There is one person I wish to thank by name and that is the two-time AC 100 winner Tom Nielsen. Among other things Tom put together the three day training weekend over Labor Day, shared his immense course knowledge with me and anyone else who would listen, allowed me to pick his brain for training tips and nutrition concerns, and all the while continued to be a classy, respectful, and thoughtful friend. Furthermore, he is probably going to upset with me for saying all these great things about him because he is an incredibly humble man as well. The ultrarunning community is replete with wonderful giving individuals who represent the sport with class and dignity. In my opinion and in my experience, Tom Nielsen stands for all that is right with our sport. Thanks Tom, for helping me to the finish line! Andy