Rio Del Lago 100 mile, 2022
I think you have to give yourself permission to be a runner like this. I had to let running be the most important thing in my life for a solid 10 months. I accepted it in a way I hadn’t before. Over the years I’ve started to feel a little resentful when people tell me I’m crazy for doing what I do. I know it’s well intentioned, but I’m also aware that this commitment to running is abnormal and a very visible representation of my internal life; after all I’m putting it all on Strava. In embracing running over these past months I’ve embraced aspects of myself that are helped by running, parts of myself that I’ve been reluctant to accept in the past. I let myself be a runner, it’s okay that I need to run like this. This has been significant and I’m finding all sorts of self-acceptance I didn’t know I needed. I’m not entirely sure what running does for me. But I know it’s part of how I interpret life. Running has always been there. Little Boy Jamie called it playing. I would just run and run and run and run while having wild adventures in my mind, alone, for hours. Of course these were happy times, but these were also the times I learned to care for myself. Play was a time to be on my own creating my own happiness. My home life had lots of conflict, but that was inside and I could just run outside. When your parents are fighting there isn’t anyone to soothe you and play became that for me. I want my younger self to know that I did well at this race and that what he was going through would help him do something like this. Adult Jamie has gratitude for the job he did figuring it out. We’ve been going full send for some time little dude. There is probably very little about my life now that a younger version would have predicted. But running like this feels right. The training for this race has been lifelong and over the past 12 or so years running 100 has been a long-term goal. This race was a major life event for me and I approached it with immense gratitude and humility for the privilege it is to run like this. What happened out there was magical; it’s the closest I’ve experienced to another dimension, time and space leaked away and everything was okay.
Going into the race I felt pretty decent about my fitness and training. This has been the biggest year of running I’ve had. Leading up to the race I crossed 2k miles. However, 8 weeks before the race I had some hamstring issues that threw off my training for about 3 weeks and I wasn’t as confident as I had hoped to be. I was able to run strong for 8 weeks leading up to the race, but my overall mileage for the 18 week training block wasn’t what I had planned for or wanted. I was a little rattled. I knew I still had fitness from a big summer of trail running, but for this race I decided to focus more on road running. I wanted to build my footspeed and biomechanics around running for long hours. My peak work out for this race was a series of three 20 mile runs. The first 20 were run on a Friday night after more than a few beers. I wanted my system to be less than ideal and to practice running in an altered headspace. After all, it was Friday night. It was pretty fun. I listened to a full Grateful Dead show and ran loops around the neighborhood, passed out and got up for an 8am group run the next day. This was rough, I was more hungover than anticipated (shout out Camyll and Leila). Halfway through the run I bought a hotdog and Coke from a vendor in Golden Gate Park. Game changer. Gotta train discomfort for a race like this. I was seriously tired after this run. The next day I ran an easy 20 around the city with Quinn and Nick (who ran Javelina 100). Ended up with 3x20 in 38 hours all at 9 min avg. This was the right effort. Earlier that week I asked myself how I would know if I was ready, it was my last big week before tapering. 3 x 20 came to mind right away and I went with it telling myself that if I could do this, I could do that. No need to second guess the logic.
In preparation for the race I calculated my best case/ worst case time predictions between drop bags. I planned for 300 calories an hour and made sure that my drop bags contained everything to get through the race without a crew as a worse-case scenario. The backbone of my plan was Maurten 320 (a powdered drink mix), Scratch chews, Spring gels, and Stinger waffles. I also prepped 500 calories of pumpkin seeds, walnuts, pb M&Ms, pb pretzels, sesame sticks, Doritos and some applesauce packets for good measure. My thinking here was to have a diverse nutrient supply. My stomach does best when it has a little to gnaw on. I find gels and chews to be too liquidy to really sustain on a physical level for an all day effort. I was carrying 1200 calories and 1 l of fluids. The Maurten 320 was split into 2x250ml flasks and 1x500ml flask of water stowed in my belt. When you’re holding something in your hand there is incentive to get rid of it, I made it a point to always be holding something that I needed, forcing myself to drink or eat. By having options of food I was able to shift to accommodate my cravings. I was nibbling on pumpkin seeds and walnuts for most of the race. I laughed that I was eating seasonally, felt right, it just worked. In the end I consumed about 4k cal on the course, about 250 per hour. I think the solid foods in the morning helped me get by with less later in the day, perfect temperatures helped too. Also Broth. Shout out to broth. If you’re ever volunteering at an aid station, you want to be on broth duty. These people are gods.
A quick note on kit: I wore Hoka carbon x2, a platted road shoe that I only ran 4 miles in the day before; it was fine. Definitely a gamble but I wore these through 78. Tracksmith shorts, Janji race singlet, tracksmith long sleeve, brand new Drymax socks, and favorite Gunsmoke Truck Stop hat. I was wearing Muz’s super nice watch. My nicest running clothing pieces. I wanted to look my best, clean shave too.
Race Start to Beals point 0–18.5
Race morning was fine. I was wearing my best 90s tracksuit and looked great. Again, gotta look good to race good. I was trying to set a vibe that would last the whole day. Being a cheery happy person is a very successful personality for ultra, I am not this person. I need all the help I can get, so I try to wear fun outfits to set the tone. Race starts quickly right at 5 am. There is also a 50k the there are more people moving fastish. The first 20 miles are paved trails that run around Folsom. Before the race I somewhat agonized over this section. I didn’t want to go out too fast and blow up like a fool. The 100 race strategy was tough to commit to since this was my first time running the distance. I decided that anything slower 8 min miles was manageable and if that was too fast I could recover enough after a reset. During the early stages of the run this pace felt fine. I found myself with Quinn pretty early and we started to roll. Mile 1, I notice that Muz has vibration setting on, I hate this. I spent about 10 seconds trying to turn this off and lapped/ stopped/ IDK something to the watch. I quickly forgot about it and kept rolling but I knew the time and mileage was off. I quickly forgot about it and moved on. Ultimately I bonded with the vibration and found it very helpful. An early highlight of the race was getting to run most of this section with Bev Anderson-Abbs. Whoa. Quinn and I caught up to her and we started chatting. Eventually she opened up about some of her accomplishments and it quickly became clear that we were in the company of someone pretty special. She is 58 and an absolute inspiration. Running 8 min miles at the start of a 100 mile is a pretty weird place to be and to look over and see that you’re barely keeping up with a middle aged woman… It set the tone for the day. Humility, grace, patience. I started to trust that it was going to be okay. Bev shared that her goal was 20hrs and that the pace was fast but felt manageable for the course and the day. I needed this validation. Me and Quinn, our first hundred miles, and the legend Bev- the sun slowly rising. It felt like Mom was walking us to school. We all roll back to the start area to close out the first 20 mile section, way ahead of pace but comfortable. Off you go boys, don’t forget your snacks, I wish she said.
Beals Point to OVRLK 18.5–44.5
This section hugs the mostly dry river with apocalyptic vibes. I ran a bit of this section with a soon to be legend, Lyndsey Dwyer (she went on to finish 2nd overall). But most of this time was spent alone. Quinn moved head, as did Bev. I was totally okay with this and settled into running the race I wanted to run. I went inside myself and connected with that younger part of me. Little dude, when you grow up you get to play all day. I focused on efficiency of movement, walking when it made sense and running as much as I could. The game is being able to read the trail and adjust your pace and stride to match the terrain- in zone 2 heart rate. Super easy. The edge of sustainable. This looks like flowing with the trail, rolling with it, walking a few strides, running a few strides, fluidity with paces, reading the trail, let it happen. The section named the meat grinder is here, yes it is a meat grinder. This was the only section I had to run solo and it was a manageable one. I kept my paces up and I continued to feel good. I was eating mostly pumpkin seeds and walnuts. They tasted delicious and sat super well in my stomach, walnuts are surprisingly easy to eat. I rolled into aid and my crew was ready to go. They changed my socks, cleaned my feet, and made sure I had all my food ready. I was laid back in the chair taking a few moments of breaths and reflection. I think I told MRV, “ it might be a special day”. Out of the chair. Ashish is ready and we charge on.
OVRLK to COOL 44–67
Vibe change. New socks felt great. From here the course started to get more interesting. I knew that Ashish would keep the pace going as we pushed into the middle section. How long would the rain hold off? Ashish and I kept it super conversational and I learned that I didn’t want to talk about school or work. We had plenty to catch up on. Ashish is honest to a fault and I appreciate that. He’s the kind of guy who listens to George Strait and owns a handgun but also casually runs sub 3 marathons. Good friend. Good friend. He genuinely cares about me, he knows I want to go sub 20, I know he can keep me honest. We crossed 50 miles below 9 hours, a personal record for the distance. It’s going to be a special day. The climbing in this section was great. I was power walking like a champion and loving every step, it felt so good to move my body in a different way, particularly towards the end. Everything was working well, I’m still eating pumpkin seeds and walnuts and Maurten 320, and Skratch chews, and apple sauce packets, and Stinger waffles. It’s working. When we rolled into ALT aid station at mile 59 it was wet and getting a little cold. Ashish told me to change my shirt, so I changed my shirt and put on a t-shirt- major shift. It was also here that I had my first taste of the sweet, sweet broth. Cry fair broth, how thee I adore. It’s warmed veggie stock and it tastes amazing. Game changer. Off we go. We neglected to refill my bottles with the Maurten 320 from my drop bag- this was a mistake and I finished the section a little faded as a result. The last section slowly climbs up from the river to Cool, CA. This section is definitely the prettiest of the course, sweeping western landscapes felt like what Texas thinks it is. I hope Ashish feels that way too. Hook ’em.
At this point it’s raining and I’m having a hard time running downhill. I think I got a little cold and tensed up here. There’s a brief out and back to get to aid here and I saw Bev head back out on the course. She had her raingear on. I made a note, It’s time to put on the rain gear. I think I was at my lowest here, which wasn’t super low, but this was where it was decision making time. It was getting a little nasty outside and it was windy in Cool. Mile 67, still no gel but that was probably a mistake. MRV told me to start eating gels, and I asked her before to keep an eye on food, so there we go. Another sock change. I’m wearing my rain jacket and bucket hat. Travis is ready. About a half mile in we realized I left my Maurten 320 bottles behind…But I had some extra gels from MRV- I wasn’t too worried.
Cool to Overlook 67–74
The Travis Gilispe miles. I didn’t really understand it back in Austin, but Travis was my first Bay Area friend. An early adopter of the man bun, Travis is the perfect blend of an emotionally available tech bro. Occasionally, when I meet people out here in SF, I get Travis vibes and it all makes sense. Travis is also a super smart runner and we had an epic send during TNF50–2016 so I knew I could trust him to go for it. There were longer downhill sections and gravity and momentum just pulled me into a new way of moving. We clicked into a very fast pace and just started to roll with less effort. I also think I found how to really stride in the carbon x2’s- these shoes are a tool. We were feeling good as dusk settled in. This is my favorite time to be on trail. If it was a day trip you’d be home by now. The key to full send is to resist turning on the head lamp. The artificial light plays with your eyes and changes the game. Hold on to daylight as long as possible. In the low light the rocks of the trail reflect more obviously. So you can trust that the dark spots are flat, its almost easier because you’re more connected to the flow of the trail. Eventually Travis said his eyes were too bad and he had to turn his on, eventually I did too, but those miles of running in the dusky dark- top play vibes, so much fun. The aid stop at No Hands Bridge was a surprise and I was able to drink 500ml of Roctane and hit the broth. Best Broth Award goes to the crew at No Hands Bridge, perfect temperature. It had been too many miles since my last liquid calories and my body absorbed it right away. I was pretty confused here, the course loops back on itself and I was getting delirious. The food helped and we charged on. Parts of this section were familiar to me from my experience pacing Vincent at Western States. I remembered how strong and fearless he was. He just pushed consistently hard the whole time. I was remembering that magical day as we left No Hands. We were deep into the race now. Running well, moving fast, passing people. The rain had taken its toll on the trail and my carbon road shoes were starting to slip. I knew the time had come to switch to the Speedgoats. We came in to aid fast, ahead of schedule, the crew wasn’t ready. I was ready. I knew it was a special day.
OVRLK to RTTLSNK 74–86
This was a frantic change but my spirits were up and I was going with it. In hindsight I could have managed the highs a little more, maybe had more to give at the end. Nah, I put on a new hat and a new pair of Hoka Speedgoats. My feet felt great. I was on fire and I wanted to keep it going. I was out of the chair quickly and ready to go on course. Where the fuck is Alex Kunce? I’m actually stoked he wasn’t there because it is just so fitting for him. I get started without him, trusting that he’ll figure it out. He found me not too far in. Haha. Alex reminds me of me when I was his age, if I were more handsome, successful in my career, and faster. Other than that, very similar. I knew Alex would be greenlighting a full send spirit and full send we did. I was running the trails fast and pretty dangerously tbh. In this section I passed Bev, I was in absolute awe of her. What a legend. Running single track at night is so fun and sketchy- not something you get to experience very often. The rain was an added wtf point. I moved my headlamp into my hand for this section, it keeps the light from reflecting into your eyes, like fog lights in a car. I know we were able to run faster because of this. Alex kept me from swerving too far into the cliffy sections, we just went for it, and he held me up when I had to rappel — walk backwards down steep stuff. Somewhere in this mix we passed Quinn and pacer/friend Charles. I was hoping that we could all move together. This was Quinn’s first ultra and it’s pretty mind boggling what he accomplished out there. It was getting late in the race and things were starting to feel a bit fragile. I knew that the final boss was up ahead. It was time to face Muz.
RTTLSNK to FINISH 86–100
Muz miles. Was it even raining any more? I don’t know. Not really? I asked the crew if I could drop my rain jacket, they said yes. I think part of me wanted to build in some incentive to keep running; staying warm. All race I knew if I could get to Muz in one piece, he would get me the rest of the way. From the day I met Muz he’s inspired me, all these years later I can see his influence on my life. Muz is a training partner. In my life, that is a distinction above friends. This sport is too honest for it to be any other way. He also annoys the shit out of me with all of his wisdom and feats of strength. After the race, I learned that coming out of aid I was in 4th place. I had no clue and I’m grateful. I was truly running within myself and I wasn’t tempted to race the field. I had messed up the watch and knew the time was off, these errors helped me to stay focused on my own effort. I wasn’t running for a time anymore. My mantra of “this is never over” started to take over. I can see now that I took this section too conservatively. But in the moment I was so focused on sustaining effort that I was overly managing myself. I certainly let Muz know it when I snapped at him for pushing the pace. He was excited. Before the race Muz doubted me, we had a zoom call where this was discussed among the crew. I truly appreciate his honesty and perspective because Muz cares enough to say no. Did I believe him? No, but in the race planning phase I had to stand strong on my decision to defy him. All run I knew, If I can get to Muz he can get me the rest of the way. I knew he was going to be stoked and he was. He was running a bit wild and he got us a bit lost. There was a stream crossing and a hill. I got wet. I wasn’t stoked, he wasn’t stoked. Since I was wearing his watch, he didn’t have a watch or a map. Damnit Muz. At this point Shingo was behind us and I saw him stop and turn and reroute. Then, like an absolute legend, he waited for us to make sure we got back on course. We moved like a team for a bit, top class spirit. He pushed on, finished 4. We were back on track and Muz was pissed at himself. I had to talk him down a bit and we took a reset. RE FUCKING SET MUZ! Haha It’s funny now, but It was dramatic AF then. I was in preservation mode, no concept of time or distance. Just moving. I was pretty trashed. Legs degrading, walking everything. This was the meat grinder section, and yes it’s a meat grinder. We started to do some timed reps of walking and running. Like I said, I knew Muz would get me there. I was so focused on it never being over that I didn’t believe the final aid stop lady when she said it was 2 miles to finish. Let’s go. It was cold, windy, and dark. I was moving fine enough. She was right, it was 2 miles away. I tried to thank Muz and he rebuked me in typical Muz fashion. The day I met Muz we talked about me running 100, for him to be there with me at the end was huge. The race was over. 19:27:23 seventh overall, second in age group. But it wasn’t over.
100 milers last at least 1 week after race start. The distance reduces you to an infant state. I had to crawl up the stairs and climb in a bath at the end, just babbeling. The body does not know how to respond to what just happened. There are waves of recovery. You need to have people around you making sure you’re taking in food and improving. Note: day after power smoothies, essential. I’m two weeks out and still managing injuries and it could easily be a month before I am running regularly again. At mile 45 the crew tied my shoes and they were too tight. I fixed one, but not the other. That ankle has a plate and 10 screws from a tragic theater accident when I was 16. As my foot swelled I think it pushed out some old scar tissue, it hurt, a lot. I compensated with my right and after the race have some pretty sharp shin pain. In consulting with Carolyn, my PT witch, we think it’s muscle and not stress fracture. When I move my foot up and down the tendons feel scratchy, its a thing. But it’s improving 2 weeks out and I am almost pain free. I think that the strain was from the fast walking. I didn’t really train that and it hurts to lift my foot etc. The race reduces you, all day you’re just managing the decay. Literally self-destructive. I felt like I had placed myself right up to the edge of physical limits. The only thing that let me get so close was the love and support of my crew. It’s extremely challenging to crew and watch people run a race like this. It is dangerous and scary and blissful and thrilling and everything else. But you are essentially watching your friend slowly degrade and endure, it can be challenging. I am so humbled and grateful to know that 6 friends gave me this opportunity. I knew that my crew could handle it and I trusted that they would have a fun day together, I regret not buying a bag of party wigs. Knowing that they (Nora) could figure out anything freed me to run the race in a joy state. Seeing them at aid, telling them I was okay, knowing they are just up ahead. I trusted them completely. Trust is huge at this distance. Over the years I’ve accumulated various experiences that gave me the trust that I could run this distance, but when it came to create an actual plan to do so, I started to struggle. I do not have any trust in my planning abilities. All sorts of self-doubt flared up for me. I was able to push against these thoughts in part because in letting myself be a runner I embraced these aspects of myself that I’m not super fond of. I am okay being me, no matter what. I hit a point where I had to start over with my planning and I began to write the story I wanted to have for the race. I thought about the setting and the costumes. The vibes and the snacks. The emergency playlists. I was having fun, I started to plan the race in a way that was authentically me. I trusted that it would work out. The night before the race I oriented MRV to the drop bags and my loose idea of how the day would go. Totally unprompted, she complimented how organized I was. Honestly, I don’t think anyone’s ever said this about me. It was the final piece of confidence I needed to trust that it would work out. Succeeding in the planning is my proudest outcome of this race. I trusted my own process to reach my goal, the training, the planning, the execution, this was authentically me. Two years ago I asked myself how I could train and run 100 in a joyful, blissed out, love state. I’m not totally sure how it all came together for me, but I think it all comes back to trust. Trust.
