San Diego 100 (June 2022)

This was my best 100-miler I’ve executed to-date. I ended up coming in 3rd overall, which surpassed my expectations! It’s no coincidence that my training leading-up to this race was the most consistent, effective, and injury-free block I’ve ever had. It was also the longest training period (I was supposed to run SD100 in 2019…then it got cancelled twice due to COVID). 3 years of training is a long time!

Training:

My spring training-block was quite strong. I was consistently doing weekly mileage in the 80’s without getting injured or too fatigued.

In April, for my largest training weekend, I decided against my typical routine of running a 50-mile or 100k race 6-weeks prior to race day. Instead, I did a 2-day combo, of slightly shorter distance.

I wanted to focus on quality training vs. “junk miles”, and while I certainly could have done a 100k, this would have required longer recovery. Plus, the last 20-30 miles would have been at a very low aerobic pace. At the end of the day, all training should serve a purpose.

For the training weekend, I went to Bergen, Norway. On Saturday I attempted the Jubileumsstein FKT (35 miles with 9,000) feet of gain. I came nowhere close to the FKT — it was not nearly as runnable as I had thought. It was a fun and demanding 9 hours on the trail.

The next morning I ran the Bergen City Marathon, which was actually my first real “road marathon” race. I’ve been running competitively for many years, but never managed to sign up for an actual road marathon. So this was good to knock-off!

I finished the Bergen Marathon (a hilly course with 1600ft of gain) in 2:54, which was faster than I’d expected, considering the day prior. I felt strong the whole race and never had any low points!

This gave me a ton of confidence heading into San Diego. The fitness was there, I just needed to execute.

View on the Jubileumsstein (trail outside of Bergen, Norway).

Marathon in Bergen - Lucy ran too and crushed it!

Heat and Hill Training:

As I’ve discussed in previous race reports, one of the inherent challenges of living in the Netherlands (flattest country in the world) is the lack of hills. I did many runs near Maastricht (southern Netherlands) where I could find Dutch “mountains”.

On one occasion, I traveled 90 minutes by train for a 124-foot hill.

In addition to hill training, I focused on heat training in the sauna. Temperatures in San Diego were roughy 80F (27c), but ‘felt like’ closer to 90 (32c) during the day. The course is exposed—there is no shade or coverage anywhere on the course.

From a physiological standpoint, one mistake many people make is heat acclimating too early in the training cycle, or not being consistent enough. I only did 11 days of heat training; this entailed sitting in a 195F sauna for as long as I could (usually 15-20mins), ideally post-exercise when the core body temperature is already elevated.

I positioned my 11 days of heat training consecutively, right before I left for San Diego. It’s tough, but effective! I believe this was an ideal acclamation period, and prepared me well.

I also invested in a Naked Vest that served as an ice-vest during the hottest 7 hours of the day. This proved to be very effective in the heat! In other words, I literally carried ~5 pounds of ice on my chest and back, which I refilled every aid station.

Overall, I had no issues with heat throughout the day, and I credit this to my heat training and cooling strategy.

Ultrarunning coach, David Roche, recently commented on this in his Western States takeaways (#6). 100-mile athletes are coming more prepared for heat than ever before. We’re getting smarter on how to handle the heat…and it’s impacting the faster finish times and falling records that we’re seeing across the sport.

Pre-race:

The San Diego 100 takes place in Cuyamaca, California. I stayed in an old mining town called Julian, about 20-minutes from the start line. I arrived in Julian 4 days before the race, which gave me ample time to adjust to the time difference from Amsterdam, and enjoy some of Julian’s world-famous pie. And plenty of pizza.

The San Diego 100 course is very crew-friendly. I was able to see my crew a total of 7 times throughout the day. It boasts 13,600 feet of elevation gain — a hilly, yet “runnable” course, which played to my strengths.

Best crew! Dan, Steve, Nancy

The “conga line” at the start of the race. The field spread out by mile 2.

Race Recap

“Keep it Smooth, Stupid!”

This was my mantra. I wrote it on my water bottle and said it out-loud countless times throughought the day.

In terms of race strategy, my coach and I had discussed keeping the pace chill for the first ~58 miles. I focused on nutrition and hydration. I was consuming 25-30oz of water per hour, and nearly 300 calories. During the first 6 hours of the race I was urinating twice per hour, which was getting me a bit concerned of hyponatremia, so I increased my salt intake. This balance of salt/water is something I need to work on perfecting in future races.

In the beginning of the race I let a group of 15-20 runners go ahead of me in the beginning, allowing a 5-10 minute gap open between myself and the lead pack for the first 20 miles.

Miles 35-40 are considered the hardest on the course. You work through Noble Canyon and there’s a single climb where you ascend nearly 2,000 feet. Most runners cover this section during the hottest part of the day.

During that Noble Canyon section I passed about a dozen runners. Shortly after, all of a sudden, someone at an aid station mentioned I was in third place. I felt strong and kept repeating: “Keep it Smooth, Stupid!” to myself. Still a long way to go.

Around mile 58 you join into the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) and there’s an 8-mile downhill to to Cibbett’s Flat aid station. This stretch of singletrack is mostly smooth train, so you can get into a solid groove and open up the pace. It’s incredibly remote and scenic. I passed a few PCT thru-hikers; for awhile, it felt like I was out on a Saturday run by myself—no race, no other runners.

In terms of race strategy, I had circled this part of the course to start pushing…if I felt good. And I did. So, I learned forward, and pushed.

I went hard on that downhill, and arrived to Cibbett’s Flat thinking I had put a major gap between myself and the rest of the field behind me…however, as I arrived, I looked behind me and saw another runner just 30 seconds behind. I was gutted. I had “burned a match” and in dire need of recovery miles.

I saw my crew at Cibbett’s, spent probably 1 minute in the aid station, and then turned around and went right back up the same 8-mile section of the PCT. I was immediately passed by the runner who stayed with me on the downhill, which put me in 4th place. I was sunk; this was the lowest point in my race. For the next two hours, I hiked hard up the hill, climbing 2-3k feet, knowing that my podium chances were slim.

But, hundred milers are long races. Anything can happen over 30+ miles!

The race turns right back up the same trail—the PCT—and ensues an 8-mile climb back up. The sun was setting, and I had picked-up a long-sleeve shirt and 2 headlamps at the aid station. At the aid station, I had tied the shirt around my waist because I didn’t want to waste time. This ended up as a foolish decision; for the next two hours I kept the shirt around my waste — too stubborn to stop and put it on. Finally, 2 hours later, I was so chilled that I stopped for 30 seconds to put the shirt on (over my pack), which warmed me up. Lesson here: body warmth is worth sacrificing 30 seconds.

Nightfall:

At nightfall, the desert was blanketed by an ominous darkness. After months of thinking about heat—the sun was suddenly gone. Any runners still on the trail had survived it. I’ve described this before, but my favorite part of running 100 miles is your relationship to the sun. There is something unique about doing one continuous thing—from sunrise, to sunset—without stopping.

The trail twisted and turned, and a howling wind came about. I saw some bopping headlamps above, below, and in the distance—but it was impossible to determine how far. Could have been a half mile, could have been 5 miles…based on where the trail goes. The light ahead could have been a car headlight. Could have been a shooting star. Could have been a runner behind me. Every light I saw was a question: Who? How far? What is it?

After awhile, the questions faded, and I was left in solitude. Just me, the runner. All I could see were the rocks and dirt below my feet. There was just enough light to frighten the dozens of scurrying desert mice around me, each one franticly dodging my footsteps, diving into their holes, only to be disturbed by the next runner on the trail.

The Chase:

When I got to mile 71 aid station (Dale’s Kitchen), I was told I was “7 minutes” back. The following aid station it was “6 minutes”, I started getting hopeful. I started to feel stronger.

At mile 84 (Pioneer Mail 2 aid station) I picked-up my pacer, Dan Friedman. Dan is an old friend who lives in San Diego—and while he’s not an avid runner, I knew he’d be up for the challenge of running through the desert in the middle of the night! Admittedly I knew Dan had no idea what he was getting himself into…but I knew he’d love it regardless. Always good to have friends like this.

I arrived to Pioneer Mail and immediately asked how far ahead 3rd place was. “2 minutes” I was told. Later on, my father said this was mostly to motivate me (the gap was closer to 4-5 minutes), but he knew exactly what to say. I flew out of the aid station with a surge of energy. I was racing. And I didn’t stop until we hit the finish line.

2 miles later we caught the 3rd place running and put-on a big surge. We were racing, not just running.
This is somewhat rare to be “racing” this late into a 100-mile race - but it was a blast. And race tactics get important here…every 30-seconds I asked Dan to cover his headlamp with his hand and look behind us to see the distance we’d gained. Strategically, I didn’t want our headlamps to be seen.

Heading into the final aid station — mile 91 (Sunrise 2) — I thought I was in a comfortable third place. We couldn’t see the runner behind us. I grabbed some water and flew out of the aid station in less than 30 seconds.

But, the race wasn’t over….

At mile 96, Dan was running behind me and whispered: “I see a headlamp.”

“How far? I asked.”

“Right behind us.” he responded.

The 4th runner caught up to me again! I was blown away. We were stride-for-stride. Mile 97. The race was ON! This is what why we do what we do, and what I visualize in training.

I once again opened up the stride. Adrenaline hit. It was in these moments I could feel my fitness from all the training I had done…every incline I pushed a little harder, trying to drop the runner behind me.

I was asking more and more from my endurance engine…I kept revving harder and harder. My body responded—I was able to push and things were “clicking” again.

 Finish:

The fastest mile of my entire day was mile 99: 8 minutes and 12 seconds. That tells you something about the power of the human mind and body.

I finished in 20 hours and 10 minutes. Pure joy and emotion sprung out of me.

I will add that this finish did feel different than other 100-mile finishes. Physically, I felt less “broken” at the end. I was immensely exhausted, but I was not injured in any way. I had just run the fastest miles of my day, and I felt more of a “runners high” vs. an overwhelming sense of disbelief of what I had accomplished. The 100 mile distance no longer intimidates me; it’s a matter of how well I can execute it.

My recovery was also faster than ever before; I was walking without a limp 24 hours after the race, and able to run without gate-alteration within 3 days. I credit this to my sound hydration and nutrition. I was hydrated and well fueled the entire day, which prevented break-down. Every bit matters!

Finished!

Dan’s medal upon finishing: “My runner dropped me at the SD100” 😂 Thank you Angela!

My pacer, Dan, all smiles after finishing!

Obligatory finish-line photo of the feet.

Thank you:

• A big thanks to Angela and BJ of the SD100 for putting on such a great event. It was worth waiting 3 years for, and an amazing “destination” race to attend!

• Thanks to Scott Traer at RunFastah (who just finished 10th at Western States 100!). Wouldn’t have had the fitness and confidence without your support and coaching.

• Thanks to Pieter and Ramon at the Art of Physio in Amsterdam for keeping me healthy!

• My crew: the best in San Diego!

Gear:

Topo Ultrafly 3 shoes

Salomon S/Lab Speed Bob Hat

Injinji Socks

Petzl Actik headlamp

Nathan Speeddraw Plus 22oz bottles

Naked hydration vest

Grateful Dead Buff