Javelina Jundred 2021

MILE 75

I've been walking for the past 13 miles. I've tried running, and my muscles just aren't allowing it. All I can muster is a slow walk. I can't even produce an intentional fast walk. I'm practically stumbling down the trail, probably less than 2 miles an hour. All I can think is that I have nothing left, barely enough to get to JeadQuarters. 

I come up with a plan. I want to quit. I have nothing left. When I get to JQ, and finish my fourth of five laps, I'm gonna put my feet on a chair, lay on the ground, and sleep for a half hour. If I can get there at 4am, I'll sleep till 4:30 and then figure a further plan. I do the math, and know that I can't finish in 30 hours if I walk another lap so slowly.

MARCH 2018 - WHITE MOUNTAINS 100

This was my first 100 miler ever. I was incredibly optimistic as to my fitness and abilities, and I wrecked myself. I finished an hour and a half before the cutoff of 40 hours, and I walked the last 75 miles of the race.

IT WAS SO DIFFICULT. 

It took me three weeks before I could walk normally again. I decided that I wouldn't be running another 100 miler until I wanted to, until I felt I was actually ready. It took me two years before I even started wanting to try another one, and I was so traumatized by the WM100 that I held off on signing up for another year at least. 

JAVELINA JUNDRED

This race is known as a relatively fast and flat desert course, and a good time party race. I've run multiple other Aravaipa Running races before, and I have always loved them. It only made sense to try the JJ100 next. I don't even remember signing up for the race, to be honest. It was a lottery race, and apparently I signed up and then forgot about it. 

I got an email in May inviting me to register, saying that I had gotten in! I had already been making some big summer plans, but I figured this was a great opportunity, and I better take it! 

SUMMER 2021

I bikepacked all over Central Europe from July to August, and then flew to Bozeman, MT to run the Rut Trifecta sky races, and then bikepacked the Tour Divide route to Colorado, rode west to Moab, UT, south to Flagstaff, AZ, took a Wilderness First Responder (WFR) course there, and then rode through Prescott down to Phoenix. I'll cover all those stories eventually. It was a fantastic adventure.

Two weeks before the JJ100, I was riding the Black Canyon Trail from Prescott to Phoenix, and was having a bad day. I crashed so many times, sometimes in ways that were just annoying, and other times in ways that were rather painful. The last crash, I went over the bars slowly, balancing on my chest on the bars, and then hit the ground, hard. My breath was almost knocked out, breathing was distressed, and I was expecting broken ribs and a punctured lung. I did a quick Patient Assessment (PAS) on myself, and once I got my breathing under control and picked up myself, I figured I was good enough to at least walk to Black Canyon City about a mile away. 

I caught a ride to Phoenix with a friend from Instagram, and proceeded to spend the next two weeks with my friends in Phoenix, the Forsberg family, recovering from my biking injuries and somehow trying to prepare for a hundred mile race.

First my knee was very sore, then when that healed up my ribs were quite the nuisance, and then when the ribs stopped hurting, my back was pretty sore from compensating for the sore ribs and sore knee. Not where you want to be in the final days before a 24+ hour sufferfest.

RACE DAY

Usually I spend the last days before a race psyching myself up and becoming overconfident so I can hit the trail fast and well. This time I spent the last days healing up from injuries, and not being sure if I would be able to run the whole thing. Even the night before I wasn't feeling confident. I couldn't sleep much that night, so I listened to some pump up music, and told myself little truths and big lies about the hours that were coming. "Just aid station to aid station, that's all." "You've done 30+ hour efforts in much harder conditions before, you'll be fine" "It'll be easy" "It'll be over before you know it." 

I was pretty scared of the heat I was gonna face in the daytime hours. I can deal with cold, but heat is scary for this Alaskan kid. I've been biking in the heat all summer, but biking is less intense and easier to cool off when you need to. I read up on some advice for running in the heat, and decided I would stop at every aid station to preemptively cool off when it was hot out.

5:50AM - TEN MINUTES TO START

I had my vest packed, water filled, shoes tied, gaiters on the correct feet, buff in my pocket, and stretched. I stopped by my coach Joe McConaughey's (Stringbean) crew tent, dropped off a jug of water, a candy bar, and a Red Bull for the night loops. Joe got into the race fairly last minute, and had 14 hour aspirations for the race and first place goals. 

I chatted with Ryan and Witt about how I was feeling, and then we headed over to the start. It's always so exciting at the race start, especially when it's dark out. Here's an attempt at a word picture.

ELECTRIC. The air feels alive. Music is pumping, with bass so loud you can feel it. Hundreds of runners are in the narrow gated corral, jumping, stretching, setting watches, and taking selfies. Cameramen are all over, taking pictures and videos of the elites up front. The sound of a thousand bees flying is present, oh wait, it's just a drone. Two minutes to go. The race director starts giving her speech. It's amazing. I don't know what she's saying, but it rings true to my experiences, and it makes us all want to get out and shred that trail. There's 10 seconds left. We countdown. Headlamps are on. 1 second. There's a bang. We're running. Watches start. I'm running. Don't sprint. Don't push. I'm gonna be back here in 24 hours and I want to still be running. Hold back. 10 minute pace is great. 

LAP 1 - 22.3 MILES

Lap 1 went quick. It's the first one, you're feeling fresh, and the excitement is still there. Mostly what it consisted of was checking my watch, seeing that I was running 9:30 minute miles, and trying to slow down to at least 10:30 or 11. I finished the first lap in just over 4 hours, which was an hour faster than pace. I really don't want to push my pace in such a long race.

The sun started coming up. I put on my sun sleeves. I put some ice in my Buff at the Rattlesnake Ranch aid station, and it was amazing.

I got into JQ, ran around the loop to the finish/start line, and then found the crew. It was super cool having support. They got me some water, some salt, and probably some food, and loaded me up with ice, and then I headed out again, feeling strong.

LAP 2 - MILES 22.3 - 41.6

On this lap it was much easier to run close to my goal pace of 12 minute miles. I could still do 10 minute miles on the flats and downs, but I held back since I wanted to be able to run in 12 hours still. I stopped at Coyote Camp and filled my buff with ice again, and drank water and gatorade, grabbed salty snacks, and headed out again. The next 6.5 miles were the tough ones. 

This second loop I discovered that these 6.5 miles were all uphill. I definitely didn't notice that on the first lap. Darn fresh legs. There were also about two miles of rough going due to sharp rocks along the trail, which was really tough to run on. I could see people ahead of me walking, and I made it a goal to run when I could to catch them. I caught up to them just before Jackass Junction, and grabbed some good food and plenty of water and ice. I sat down for a little too long here, so when I hit the trail, I allowed myself to run fast for a while to keep the legs limber.

On my way out of the aid station, one of the camera guys ran behind me for about a mile, so I kept up the effort. Those camera guys always make you run harder than you want to, but I was having fun and feeling fast, over 50K into 160km. I probably covered those 5.2 miles in 50 minutes, and honestly regretted pushing that hard for a long time into the future.

The distance to the finish/start from Rattlesnake Ranch was 3.7 miles, and that first time I ran it, it seemed so short! I was able to run it all, and got lapped by the first five runners. They were so fast! Camille Herron passed me, and then Joe was a couple minutes behind her, probably doing 8 minute miles. It was great to get into the JQ party for the second time, though it was incredibly hot there!

I was even more grateful for the crew then. I sat down, drank water, took a salt pill, had some pickle juice, and some applesauce, and then got on my way. 

LAP 3 - MILES 41.6 - 60.9

I started allowing myself to walk on lap 3. I was still on pace for a 20 hour race, but it was down to the wire, and I was facing the reality that I wasn't gonna pull a 20 hour race. I settled into being happy with a 24 hour time, which meant I needed to run at least 15 minute miles for the next 60 miles. It seemed tough but doable. I walked a lot of the uphill sections, and ran the flat spots and occasional downhills. The heat was insane. I stopped at every aid station and had to cool off, which took at least 15 minutes, and sometimes 20 minutes. But. I wasn't gonna risk going out too hot and not being able to finish for that reason. 

I was still able to run the downhill portions pretty well, and it was finally starting to get dark. I was managing just over 12 minute pace, and ran into JQ with a guy named Nathaniel. I hadn't been able to eat while running for a while, so I needed to deal with that when I got to JQ. 

I got into the camp, sat down at the crew tent, and the guys said Joe was finishing soon, so they went to watch him finish. That's insane. I was 62 miles into the run, and he was about to finish 100 miles. I had been feeling a good cry coming on for a while, which to me is a sign of pushing myself a good amount. I went from feeling pretty strong but tired, to sitting there under a blanket crying for no reason. Maybe I was a bit depressed that I wouldn't make my 24 hour goal. It definitely wasn't from pain. But after sitting there for a half hour and basically deciding to quit, I was super stiff. I rolled out my legs, and stood up, and immediately sat back down. Screw that. I texted my running buddy Chris Butcher up in Alaska, and told him that I'm good with calling it quits at 100K. I'm tired. Then Joe and crew came over, and I told Witt that I didn't think I was gonna go back out. He immediately asked if I had eaten enough, if I was hydrated, and how I was feeling. 

I checked my phone, figuring there was no way Chris had responded, and I had a whole string of super encouraging messages from him. I've shared them above. That's all it took - I was back in the game. I knew that I wasn't in the best place mentally, and I needed someone to whip me into shape. Thankfully Chris knew what it was like to be there, and gave me what I needed - a swift virtual kick in the butt.

I decided to walk the next lap. I put on a long sleeve shirt, and set out into the darkness. 

LAP 4 MILES 60.9 - 80.2

The lap from hell. I thought walking would be a nice rest, a change from the norm, a way to recover while still moving forward. Boy was I wrong. I walked the first four miles with a couple who were walking the 100K, and the whole way I was thinking that I could be running this... but no, I had decided to walk. After the first aid station, I was pretty happy walking. But wow, it took forever. It was a long section when I could still run, and it probably took 2 1/2 hours to walk it. 

I had been planning to run the next downhill miles, but definitely couldn't talk my legs into it. Jackass Junction was a raging party when I showed up at 1 am, but it was also a little bit chilly. I grabbed some trail mix, talked to some people who were dropping, and then headed out into the night. I seriously tried to run and couldn't. I checked my phone, and noticed a bunch more good texts from Chris. He said he had a group of people rooting for me, and that really lifted me up a bunch. I still couldn't move much faster. At night, you could see the next checkpoint almost as soon as you left Jackass, even though it was five miles away. 

This is where I was the lowest. Remember the first story? That's here. Now.

I walked so slow. I got passed by a ton of people. I got passed by people I hadn't even seen before, people from the back of the pack. When I was at Rattlesnake, the last aid station, the first place guy came hauling through, on his last four miles. I think it took me 2 hours to cover the last 3.7 miles to the JQ, and I walked into the finish/start area. I was so tired. They gave me a bracelet to signify I was on my last lap, and I went to put my feet up and snooze. It was 4:38am when I set my alarm.

5:10. My alarm goes off. I set it for another half hour and went to sleep again, but woke up when the guy next to me finished just under 24 hours. He was pretty messed up, and kept groaning loudly. He was in rough shape. I yelled over to him congrats, and good work, and then said that I was cooked. His crew didn't even try to encourage me, probably because I was so decided. I got up and was gonna try to run to see if I could, but I could barely stand up. I took my shoes off again and crawled back into my sleeping bag.

Then I heard a guy in a nearby tent, probably a pacer, telling his racer who just finished a fourth lap, something along the lines of "Ok, great job, now we're gonna go out and try to finish. Even if you don't make it, we're gonna try." At this point I'd been laying down for about an hour with my feet up, and that guy was gonna go back out after just getting in. I checked the time. I did some math. I had just over 6 hours to make the cutoff. I definitely couldn't walk the last lap. I had to run most of it. Could I do it? Heck yeah I could. Did I want to? Actually, I sort of did want to. And you know what, I KNEW I could do it. 

LAP 5 MILES 81-100

I made a quick little deal with myself, both to promote quick movement and to protect me from injury or misery. If I could make it to the first aid station in an hour, I'd keep going. That was a 15 minute mile pace, which if I could do for 5 hours, I could finish barely in time. I made it in under 50 minutes. I probably went a little hard, but I needed that boost, that confirmation that I could do what I was trying to do. 

I kept running. I didn't stop at the aid stations. I just grabbed food and a couple drinks of gatorade, and then kept moving. The sun came up; I turned off my headlamp, and enjoyed being able to see the trail. I passed a ton of people. I was still passed by others, but it felt good to pass all those people who passed me in the night.

I stopped at Jackass Junction and put my feet up for 5 minutes, and chatted with another runner who was really down to the wire on time. We both got on the trail at the same time, and that was the last time I saw him. I don't think he finished... That was disappointing. I ran a good chunk of the downhill portion, albeit slowly, like 13:30 min miles, and at the actual finally last aid station, I grabbed some drinks, some watermelon, some ice, and then headed out. Last four miles!!

I walked the short uphill, and then for every downhill, I ran. I could see snippets of people in front of me, but they were always running. I caught one person maybe 1.5 miles from the end, and then in the last mile I started passing people like crazy. For me, the last mile is go for broke time. Run, use up every resource that's left. There's no point in walking. I probably passed five or six guys in the last quarter mile, and I think I even passed someone in the final few hundred yards. I ran through JQ, I kept pushing. It wasn't fast, it was probably 11 minute mile or so. But I was finishing strong. That's important to me. When I crossed that line, and was handed my belt buckle, the lady who gave it to me said "This is for you. You deserve this. You've had a journey." She was the same one who gave me the bracelet hours before when I had shuffled into the JQ utterly defeated. 

I finished in 29:02:14. My place was like 262nd. Not ideal, but I ditched the idea of placing in the top 100 hours before.

I'm super stoked that my coach placed 5th! What an incredible time. 

AHHHHHH. I CAN FINALLY STOP.

I was psyched to see Joe and Witt and Ryan there afterwards. They didn't see me finish, but it was so cool to see the guys who helped get me there. I sat in the shade with a guy who had finished a couple hours before, and with a lady who finished about a half hour after me, and we talked about the race and didn't move.

AFTERTHOUGHTS

I slept for pretty much 20 hours after the race. I ate like I had no limit, and I drank as much water as I could. I slept through most of Thor: Ragnarok, and then slept through The Incredibles. I ate another huge meal and then slept from 10 pm til 11am. I was incredibly sore when I woke up, and it took great effort to get up off the floor. 

By the end of the day after, I could walk pretty decently, and I felt good. The second morning, I got up easily and walking is easy already! I can definitely tell I did something big recently... but I'm pretty mobile. 

Can I do that distance faster? Absolutely. What could I have changed to this experience to make it faster? There's several things.

First, the extended times at aid stations during the heat of the day was absolutely necessary. Not pushing as hard during the day was also necessary. I handled the heat well. What I didn't handle well was preventative maintenance on my body at aid stations after the third lap. When I sat at JQ for an extended period of time and felt sorry for myself, I was just making my legs worse. 

If I could have put my feet up when I was miserable, it would've allowed me to continue running for longer. The lap of walking could've included a fair bit of running, or at least a faster walking pace. Also, that walking lap hurt like hell. It hurt ten times worse than my final twenty miles of running. 

ALSO. It's been two days since I finished, and I'm feeling amazing. I'm thinking about going for a run today. Part of my fears out there on the trail were associated with a really long recovery time. Knowing that I can recover so quickly in the future will really affect how hard I go, or allow myself to go. I have a short window of time to recover before starting an adventure of a job where I'd love to be able to work hard. 

I don't know if I can run a sub 20-hour 100 miler right now. I know I can hit sub 24-hour though. Absolutely. Will I come back to AZ for another five lap sufferfest? Maybe. I'll think about it. 

First, though, I've got a marathon on the ice continent to run. That's right. I'm going to Antarctica.