Subject: OD 100 Race Report Date: Thu, 17 Jun 1999 11:11:19 -0400 From: "Holdaway, Jeff" 1999 OLD DOMINION 100 MILE ENDURANCE RUN Breathing hard as I ran to the top of the last hill, I glanced back and concluded I had finally shaken the phantom runner in the white biker shorts. At least they looked white in the 3:00 A.M. moonlight. (I later learned his name was Kevin Mazzu -- 23:21.) Kevin had passed me twice on downhill sections during the prior 12 miles and it took this quad burning push to get past him for good. (Of course, Kevin was probably musing -- who's that idiot running up hills on the 99th mile.) I saw the entrance to the County Fairgrounds ahead, turned right to see my wife, Karen, and my running buddy, Bill Van Antwerp, cheering me on. My spirits sank as I learned that I still had a ½ mile loop around the Fairgrounds before reaching the finish line. I consider walking this last section, but visions of Kevin arise and I decide to at least jog it in. Up ahead 150 yards, I see 3 runners walking together, Miles Krier, Joe Waldron and Ben Clark. I do a quick internal debate, decide it's only a little more pain and take after them. I reach the three of them with about 200 yards to go, zip by, praying that none of them will respond. About 10 yards past, I hear one of them say "go for it" as Miles takes off after me. I crank it up to full throttle, and Miles does the same. We round the last turn in a dead sprint and I wonder what the small crowd at the finish line must be thinking. Here it is 3:14 A.M., 99.9 miles down and two lunatics are sprinting in the dark towards the finish. In the end Miles is too strong and pulls past me. However, as I finish, I'm thrilled with my 23:14:20 time and 25th place finish. The 1999 Old Dominion 100 was my second 100 mile run. My first was the 1998 Wasatch 100. Having fought to finish under the cutoff at Wasatch with a time of 35:18, I knew I needed some more mileage under my belt if I wanted to suffer a little less on my next all-day running affair. Through the winter and spring, I slowly increased my weekly mileage, eventually getting to 50-60 miles a week. Low by ultra runner standards, but about as much as my legs and family commitments could tolerate. I tried to emphasize the weekend long runs, and included one 50-mile and several 50k trail races to my training regiment. During the first three weeks of May I went down and ran a third of the OD course each weekend, which proved invaluable. For two of the weekends, I ran with Mike Robertson, one of the race organizers, who graciously leads a group of OD runners through the course. Mike is extremely knowledgeable (and opinionated) about ultra running. I tried to learn as much as possible. My thanks go out to Mike and the rest of the selfless OD organizers. A few days prior to the race, a friend and work colleague, Bill Van Antwerp, agreed to join me as crew and "safety runner" (the race organizers don't allow "pacers"). We left my home in Vienna, VA Friday afternoon for the 95 minute drive to Woodstock, VA. Upon arrival, I registered, weighed in (148 lbs) and then went to drive by a few of the aid stations. Fortunately, Bill was familiar with the area, having run on portions of the course some three weeks earlier at the MMT 100. Shortly before 5:00 P.M. we returned for the race briefing -- straight forward and mercifully brief. It was fun to see some of the ultra running heavy weights, including everyone's Internet mentor, Stan Jensen. (Stan, congratulations on your terrific 21:23 finish.) Following the briefing most of the runners went over to the Ramada Inn for a pasta dinner -- a little carbo loading always helps. With a 4:00 A.M. start, I desperately wanted to get to bed earlier. I decide to tape my feet before going to bed, despite the fact that it made sleeping more uncomfortable. Based on prior race experience, I focus on my heels, balls and large and pinky toes, taking care to avoid any wrinkles in the tape. I know some people swear by duct tape, but I find regular athletic tape more comfortable. Finishing my tape job, I pull on socks to keep the tape in place and turn out the lights at 9:00 P.M. Within minutes, Bill is snoring away across the room as I lie wide awake, too keyed up to sleep. Finally around midnight I doze off. I sleep fitfully for a couple of hours then awake with a jolt. It's 2:00 A.M. and there is no chance of going back to sleep. I watch the clock for another 30 minutes and then give up and start getting my stuff together. The morning ritual includes a thorough layering of Bag Balm ointment (much better than Vaseline) over my feet, thin running socks, shoes then trail gaitors. While the first 4 ½ miles are on paved roads, I decide to wear the gaitors from the start. The OD 100 clearly is a race where gaitors come in handy. The combination of taping, Bag Balm, thin socks and trail gaitors allowed me to run blister free the entire race. The race began at 4:00 A.M. sharp with a loop around the Fairgrounds track and then 2 ½ miles through the little town of Woodstock. I debated on whether to take a flashlight and at the last minute decided to carry one. I opted for a cheap $2 double D battery version, in case I wanted to toss it along the way. With the street lights and the light from the moon, the flashlight wasn't necessary. I tossed it at mile 4.5. In future years, I will do without one at the start. I was surprised at the fast early pace of most runners. My goal of a sub-24 hour finish would put me in the top 40 percent, if prior year results held true. It seemed like everyone was intent on going out at sub-18 hour pace. Hitting the first aid station (Water St.-- 3mi) at around 28 minutes, I was near the back of the pack. At approximately 9:20 pace, I figured it was plenty fast. The course rolled along paved roads for another 2 miles until we hit our first major climb -- a 2.4 mile stretch of gravel road switchbacks up to the top of Woodstock Gap at mile 7.2. Power walking up the switchbacks, I passed several runners and hit the Aid Station at 5:22 A.M., just two minutes behind my race plan. The course from Woodstock Gap to In-Boyer is mostly downhill on gravel roads for three miles. During this stretch I was passed by most of the runners I went by going up hill, but I withstood the temptation to go after them. I was determined to maintain a slow pace the first third of the race. There would be plenty of time to pick it up later if I had anything left. I reached In-Boyer around 5:50 (mile 10.2), putting me right on my pace track schedule, which I had laid out for a 23:20 finish. (I figured I better give myself a 40 minute cushion.) The course immediately leaves the gravel road and turns left into the Boyer loop, the first trail section. The trail runs up then down a moderately steep hill, about 2.5-3 miles and then dumps you back out on the road for a 1.5-2 mile return back to the Boyer Aid Station. Throughout the Boyer loop I ran with a Japanese couple, Katsuyuki and Hiromi Hatta. I recognized them from last year's Wasatch 100. The Hatta's speak very little English but are always friendly with their "hellos" and "good mornings." Reaching the Out-Boyer Aid Station (mile 14.6) I was pleased to see I was within a minute of my 6:50 A.M. projection. The next 18 miles are primarily on gravel and hilly roads. The entire Fort Valley is a beautiful bucolic setting. In the early morning hours, running the course is a true pleasure. I continued my race plan of power walking all uphills and running on all flats and downhills. On the road sections, my uphill walking pace is between 14-15 minutes/mile -- slower on the trails. Flats and downhills are around 10 min/mile pace on the roads and 12 min/mile pace on the trails. Taking in account aid station time, I figured this pace would still achieve a sub-24 hour finish even if I slowed on the second half of the course. I arrived into Four Points #1 at 10:14, actually 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Feet felt fine as I changed from my Asics DS trainers to Asics Trabucos. Knowing how the tape sticks to the socks, I let them be. I also dropped my single bottle fanny pack for a Camelback. I was concerned about last year's omission of the Peach Orchard Aid Station and wanted to have plenty of fluid if I had to go 11 miles to Crisman Hollow. Bill had filled the Camel pouch with Gatorade and lots of ice as requested, but rather than 60 ounces, he had filled the 100 oz bladder nearly full. Leaving the Station I felt like a pack animal and decided to jettison about 30 oz. The section from Four Points #1 to Crisman is the first major trail section. Following my general plan, I power walked the 2-3 mile uphill on the Duncan Hollow trail, passing a few runners as well as a dead rattlesnake one of the earlier runners had dispatched with a rock. (So much for our being "one with nature.") The Peach Orchard station came up sooner than expected. (I believe it is earlier than the stated 38.7 Mile mark noted on the race description.) Up and over the summit, I ran into Crisman Hollow for my first weigh-in. Down 1.5 lbs to 146.5, I reminded myself to keep drinking. The section from Crisman Hollow back to Four Points is a rather boring 4.5 mile stretch on a rolling gravel road. Fortunately, it went quickly and I arrived at Four Points #2 (47.7) at 1:44 to see my wife Karen who had joined Bill as planned. Meeting Bill and Karen was a pleasure and I probably spent more time than I should. (My time at the station was 6 minutes, which turned out to be my longest stay throughout the race.) Karen, wanting to be helpful, indicated the lead runner was already past Edinburg Gap. I responded that such news was not encouraging. I switched from the Camelback to a two bottle fanny pack and lumbered off. The section to Mtn Top (50.9) and then into Edinburg Gap (56.6) begins with a long 4-mile, mostly uphill climb, then a rolling section, followed by 2+ mile downhill section, all on gravel roads. The drought had made the roads very dry, with the occasional vehicle kicking up clouds of dust -- very annoying. During this section I ran into Lisa Conover (23:32). An attractive blond runner from Wisconsin. I learned she was attempting the Grand Slam this year. She struck me as around thirty years old. I was amazed when she mentioned her high school graduation as being the same as mine -- 1977 and that she had two teenagers. Obviously, the years have been kind to her. I hit Mtn Top just after 1:30 -- 10 ½ hours into the race. Feet and legs still felt good but the temperature was rising and the array of food items at the each aid station was beginning to look less appealing. I continued my run/walk routine on to Edinburg arriving at 3:44. I was pumped at being within 5 minutes of my schedule. Karen and Bill refilled my bottles. I consumed a can of Success -- ice cold and quite tasty. Off I went. In my view the race really begins at Edinburg Gap. Leaving the aid station, you have a long tough climb up a rocky ATV trail. Lot's of rocks. The temperature was hitting it's high for the day -- mid-80s. I passed several runners traveling up the mountain, a couple of whom were bent over expelling whatever calories they had consumed at Edinburg. The Aid Station at Peter's Mill Pond (59.6) was a welcome sight. The Station managers had quite a spread, including bagels with cream cheese. I decided to pass on the bounty, refilled my bottles, grabbed some Coke with ice and moved on towards Little Fort. This next 4.7 mile section, while generally level to downhill, has lots of rocks and seems to continue well beyond the stated mileage. I guess I was getting tired. Reaching Little Fort at 5:39, Karen informed me I was only 9 minutes off my pace objective. It was early enough that I didn't have to debate whether or not to pick up a flashlight. While there is an interim Aid Station at Mudhole Gap, the next station for drop bags or crews is Elizabeth Furnace (mile 75). Many runners have gambled on reaching Elizabeth Furnace before dark only to find themselves without a light on the rough trail section a mile prior to reaching the Aid Station. My calculations called for me to get into Elizabeth Furnace around 8:15, early enough that I didn't feel a need to carry a flashlight for the next 10 miles. The distance from Little Fort to Mudhole Gap covers an extended gravel road section that we had run earlier in the day. By this point I had some real soreness in my left knee and on the top of my fight foot. It wasn't a problem when I walked the uphills but presented a challenge in running the flat and downhill sections. I was popping Tylenol every few hours but the pain was intensifying. Fortunately, all the other body parts were still in working order and, all things consider, I was encouraged by my physical state. Pulling into Mudhole Gap (69.5) at 6:48, I stayed just long enough to grab some soup and then headed up the trail. The first mile after Mudhole includes crossing the same stream a total of five times. Due to the drought, it was a simple matter of jumping from rock to rock to stay dry. I imagine in rainier years, the stream crossings are more challenging and wet shoes are the likely outcome. Halfway through this section, I was passed for the umpteenth time by Rick Schneider (23:22). Rick is a veteran of OD with a number of strong finishes. Rick also must spend his life in the gym as he has the body of a Greek god, quite unlike the emaciated look of many of us ultra runners. Rick had come out for a number of the pre-race training runs and always looked extremely strong. I fully expected Rick to be a couple of hours ahead of me. Clearly he was having a sub-optimal day. Near the end of the Mudhole Gap section you the main road bisecting Fort Valley. The race organizers take you to within a 1/4 of Elizabeth Furnace but then require a hard left onto a separate trail section where you spend a mile or so looping around before crossing the main road into the Aid Station. Arriving into Elisabeth Furnace at 8:10 P.M., I hooked up with Bill, who would be my safety runner over the next 12 miles. I tried to push things a little bit knowing that the more ground we covered before dark the better off we would be. As it was, we were about 10 minutes from the top of Sherman's Gap before darkness descended and we turned on our lights. Through the night trail sections, I used my Petzl head lamp and carried a MiniLite AA flashlight. I found the smaller flashlight helped illuminate the rocks near my feet. It also offset the tunnel vision that comes with using a headlamp. The Section from Elizabeth Furnace up and over Sherman's Gap and then the reverse climb from Veach East to Veach West is tough primarily because of when it comes during the race (miles 74-87) and due to the fact most runners run it after dark. Because of the increasing pain in my knee and foot, I ran very little of it, taking 3 3/4 hours to complete this section. Bill was a good sport, maintaining his stream of lies, such as "Gosh Holdaway, you're looking strong; I can hardly keep up with you." Although my pace was slowing, it was nice to hear a friendly voice through this trail section. I arrived into Veach West at 12:03 A.M. I did a quick calculation -- just under 4 hours to do 14 miles -- all on roads. Even if I had to walk the entire distance, I figured I had a lock on a sub-24 buckle. Despite the acute pain in my knee and foot, I tried to run as much of the flats and downhills as possible, although even this "running" was probably 12 min/mile pace. I was particularly annoyed at my progress when I was passed by Kevin Mazzu about 1 mile out of Veach West. Kevin seemed to be doing much better on the flats. My hope was that I could catch him on one of the two remaining major uphill section. The time went relatively quickly and I rambled into the 770/758 Station (mi 91) at 1:13. The next section was a climb up the gravel road to Woodstock Gap. I did manage to pass Kevin around mile 92, but figured we'd leapfrog at least a couple more times. Pulling into Woodstock Gap I saw a couple of runners sitting down. I decided to not stop at all except to thank Pat Botts for the wonderful event. (Pat was still recovering from a knee injury and thus was unable to run this year. It was wonderful to see her in the middle of the night cheering on the runners.) My legs were really starting to complain going down the 2 ½ miles of switchbacks from the top of Woodstock Gap. I managed to run 90% of the way down but was still caught and passed by Kevin. Reaching the bottom of Woodstock Gap, I looked back, and saw 2-3 flashlights up on the switchbacks. I realized the runners I had left in the Aid Station were less than a mile back. Having reached the paved roads, I turned off my light and ran the remainder of the race by moonlight. The run into town, past the Water Street Station (97.4) was uneventful. I simply waved to Karen and Bill and kept going. I probably would have walked most of it had I not seen Kevin up ahead and been concerned about the "flashlights" behind me. I'm not sure whether my mad dash over the last mile or so made sense. It is now 10 days after the race and my knee and foot are still bothering me. Nonetheless, I'm pleased with my time, my effort and the race in general. Having only run two 100 mile trail runs, I am anything but an expert on the subject. However, I offer the following tips for what they are worth: 1. Take care of your feet. I have developed a good taping system -- heels, balls and first and fifth toes. At OD, I liberally applied Bag Balm at the start and never removed my socks the entire race. I made one shoe change for the tougher trail sections. Trail Gaitors are critical. My feet are stone magnets. The gaitors kept me rock free. (I really like the ones sold under the Western States label.) With the foregoing preparations, I had no blisters and only one minor hot spot. (I'm hoping for similar results at Wasatch later this year.) 2. Take it out slow. The tendency to stay with the crowd is almost overwhelming, particularly because it's so effortless. Stick to your pace plan even if that means you're dead last early on. I haven't seen the splits but I guess I went from around 80th at mile 7.2 to 25th at mile 100. Other than the knee and foot I felt relatively good the entire race. No real bad patches. 3. Get your "backside" out of the Aid Station. My in-station time last year at Wasatch was 3 hrs 20 min. My in-station time at OD was less than 45 minutes. I limited all non crew stations to less than a minute and crewed stations to under 5 minutes, with one "6-minute" exception. Relentless Forward Motion. 4. "It's the long runs stupid." While my peak training weeks were only 50-60 miles, I had a total of 6 runs in the 12 weeks leading to OD of 30 miles or more. Time on your feet is what counts. 5. Try out those liquid meals in a can. I found the liquid meals stayed palatable the whole way. I drank "Success", which my wife pointed out, after the race, is actually a diet drink. I'm going to test out "Ensure" or some of the other higher calorie drinks. Regardless, I found liquid calories went down easier later in the race. 6. Know the course. Not always possible, but a real boon if you can actually train on it beforehand. Knowing that Sherman's Gap wasn't quite the "Mt. Everest" some have described was psychologically helpful. 7. Pacer's are terrific. I find that my running pace rarely conforms to other competitors for any length of time. A pacer (excuse me "safety runner" in OD parlance) even for 12 miles was helpful. Last year I ran nearly all night alone at Wasatch on unfamiliar trails. Lonely and a little spooky. 8. Sleeping soundly the night before. Frankly, I have no idea. My hat goes off to those who can get more than a couple of hours of sleep. I guess I'll continue relying on the "night before the night before the race" to get in some quality shut eye. jeff.holdaway@marriott.com