Burning River 100 Race Report

Sean and I killed this race, but we had to do it together

Ward at mile 36 of Burning River 100

From the race preview, the two biggest issues we aniticipated for this race were the heat and exposure during the bike and hike trail part of the course and the logistical issues with Sean arriving at 9:30 the night before. We overcame one of those things better than the other.

Recap of the logistical issues

Sean had a work meeting on the Friday before the race. Luckily, the RD was pretty chill about folks picking up bibs, so I was able to get Sean's bib and swag prior to him flying in that night. He was a bit worried that with all the flight cancellations this summer, he still wouldn't be able to make it on time. As a result he bought flight and race insurance. The airbnb was about 45 minutes from the Cleveland airport, so if everything went perfectly, we would be back at the airbnb by 10:30. We would then be able to get 4 hours of sleep. Not ideal, but not the worst.

As it ended up, Sean's flight didn't land until 10:05, and we didn't leave the airport until 10:30. By the time we got back to the airbnb, it was 11:15, and so we didn't get to sleep until after 11:30. Best case scenario, if we fell asleep immediately and woke up at 3, we might get 3 and a half hours of sleep. Definitely not ideal before a 100 mile race.

The morning of the race

I wake up with my alarm at 2:50 and start moving. I had left all of my clothes and gear and necessary stuff to prevent chaffing and blisters (bag balm, trail toes, band aids) and pre-race food (banana and peanut butter, bagel, egg, honey stinger) ready to go, so I wouldn't have to think. Everything else was packed and ready to be put in the car. I'm getting a banana and I realize I don't hear Sean whose bedroom was near the kitchen. I call out to him and he's shocked that it's now 3:10 and he's not up. The race is a 15 minute drive from the airbnb. I gave us a tight window to get there since I know we needed the sleep, but I was worried about nearly 300 people driving into a small town all at once and getting further delayed by traffic. Our airbnb was in the Firestone Park neighborhood of Akron, but it had easy access to I77/Rte 8 that takes you just to the start. Now I was worried about time, but we still could do it. I saw Sean when he got up, and he seemed rattled by oversleeping. I got packed, and we were on the road by 3:35. Not too much time to spare, but we were fine.

We get to Interstate 77 and because of all of the construction on that road, the entrance was actually closed, despite what Google Maps said. I considered driving around the barriers and just going for it

I pull up the google map directions to be safe, but since I had contacts and not my glasses, I couldn't really read them, but I could listen. What I could tell was that google maps was taking me a more direct route at 3:35 than they had the last couple of days, and it was only expected to take 11 minutes instead of the usual 14 by going on 77 first instead of 76 to Rte 8. Awesome. Except not. We get to 77 and because of all of the construction on that road, the entrance was actually closed. I considered driving around the barriers and just going for it, but I figured that might end up real bad. I take off using the directions in my head from the way I had gone the last two days. My phone (on the bluetooth in the car) then starts yelling at my "take a u turn ahead", "take the next right" (I take a left) and I am blowing through stop signs because according to our ETA now, we were going to arrive at 3:59 for a race that starts at 4. Eventually, Google realizes that I'm on the fastest route, and I get on Rte 8 and I drive the 5 miles to exit 5A for Cuyahoga Falls. I get to the intersection with main street, (here's a great thing about being that late at 3:55 am-- no traffic is backed up!), run the red light, turn onto front street and find a parking space in the lot across the street from the Sheraton. Time is 3:55. I'm already wearing my waistbelt, Sean is taking a piss next to the car, and I grab my phone and put it in my waistbelt, eat a Honey Stinger, and tell Sean I need to find a porta potty. I walk up, and they are calling 2 minutes to go. Can't find a porta potty. One minute to the start, I still don't see Sean and start!

From the start to Pine Hollow (mile 33)

In my mind, I divided this race into thirds that I made into roughly three 50ks. My strategey for this race was to run the first 50k and I mean run it. Not use up everything but treat it like a race unto itself. In order to make a sub 24, I would have to run the first 33 miles in less than 6 hours. Given the rooty and sometimes pretty steep trails and the darkness for the first couple of hours, I didn't think that that would be likely, but I considered it a possibility. The next goal after sub 24 was a PR, and if I was going to do that, I wanted to get to a point where my average pace could be 20 minutes per mile for the rest of the race and I would still make a sub 27 hours (my PR going into the race was 2017 Rocky Raccoon at 27:04). This is the game I have to play regarding time. I have to have the confidence that I can make a goal even when things blow up, and the 20 minute mile is my imaginary pace that I can still make when things go sideways (foreshadowing--they usually do).

This race starts off in a city, so it's on roads before it turns to the metro parks and trails. Of the first 4.3 miles until the first aid station, 85 percent is paved and 15 percent is on bridle path. So, that's about .65 miles on trail and 3.65 on roads. Pretty manageable with three decent hills. We start off quickly, and Sean and I find each other. We run into a friend we met last year from the race who lives in the DFW area (hey, Brandy!) who I knew was toying with a sub 24 goal, too. We both seemed a little hesitant since we knew this race could get hot, and while she has a couple Habanero Hundred finishes under her belt, stomach issues and heat are often related. The weather felt pretty cool right now, but that bike and hike trail was going to be super exposed, and the forecast high was now 84 (not terrible, but not ideal for a 100 miler).

Sean and I keep running into folks and having good little chats; we lose each other, find each other, pattern continues. Lather, rinse, repeat. This goes on through the first aid station as we go onto a part of the course that had changed from last year. It's dark and we're chatting with folks, not really taking notes as to what to expect when we are at mile 93, 94, 95, which is exactly what happened last year, too. Lots of folks on this section, so it's a pretty tight pack and while folks are nervous, we are all in good spirits. Hard to tell exactly, but it feels like about a 10-11 minute pace, which is where I want to be. I notice I'm a bit sleepy, which is to be expected, but not a great feeling when you know you're going to be running for as much as the next 29 hours.

It was about this point, Sean and I see each other and that mother fucker has blood trickliing down his left arm and a story to go with it. (More of that below in Sean's voice). We run together for a bit, and I can tell he is a little frustrated by the fall. He didn't fall once at Bighorn, and he fell twice in the first 11 miles here. It's still dark, not much to see in terms of scenary. My goal is to get to Pine Hollow by 10:30, which would be an 11:30 pace, including aid stations, which I don't plan to spend much time at. Although my plan is to hydrate and fuel as much as possible before my stomach goes, I also didn't want to be weighed down by my hydration vest. So, my plan was to wear my belt with one 10 oz water bottle filled the whole time, as I come into an aid station, I would down my water while walking in and refill it immediately. Then I would take two dixie cups of Skratch and slam those, grab any food that looked good or that I needed to replace and then hustle out. Less than a minute at the aid station was my goal. No farting around. At Pine Hollow, I would swap into my hydration vest, and I would leave my belt in my drop bag.

Shortly after leaving the North Hawkins aid station (mile 8.7) I hear Sean call my name, and I yell back, but this was downhill and fast. I wasn't going to slow down too much for him to catch up (this bastard ran a sub 21 hour 100 miler earlier this year at Rocky Raccoon, and I knew he would catch me soon). I take a pit stop (first of the morning), and I call out for Sean and I hear nothing. Hmmm... where did he go? About a mile later I take a second pit stop, and I think maybe Sean is ahead of me now, but still I call out, and don't hear from him. Hmm....?

There's a long uphill that I slow down on and expect Sean to catch me, but there's still no sign of him. At this point, the sun is coming up, but the trail has gotten rooty, so I'm slowing down and being careful with every step, while still maintaining an 11:10 min running pace or so. I get through the next couple of aid stations with the same speed as before. I almost run right by the water-only stop at Indigo Lake at mile 19, but since the sun is up and it's slowly starting to warm, I know that's going to be a mistake. I down some water, refill my bottle and go.

Shortly after Indigo Lake, I'm back on the towpath, and I get a call from Sean, he asks where I am. He says something about eating shit again and that's why I couldn't find him. Supposedly he fell about 5 minutes out of North Hawkins (more about that below). He says he's going to lay the hammer down and catch up.

Sean's Race

[ To get to hear this section in as much of Sean's voice as possible, I'm transcribing audio from Sean and my Zoom call on August 2nd where we recap the race. The video of that call will be up on Youtube shortly.]

So I get to the starting line and I didn’t even know where you were. I'm just kind of running along, and I'm pissed. I'm really kind of upset because I had to rush after missing my 2:30 alarm. And we started going, and I started thinking “okay just get this out of your head.”

We get a good pace going, and I was pretty comfortable with things, but then I got frustrated when we started getting on the single track. We were walking up these hills and now, I probably had a bunch of people around me that had never run this trail before and I have, and I was saying to myself, " I can run all of this right here, this is not an issue whatsoever." So I was getting frustrated with that.

I am not having fun. I am pissed off and my hand is messed up. I have blood dripping everywhere.

When I got to mile nine, I eat shit for the first time. I trip and fall over something completely innocuous, and I’m like “Damn!” and you know, I had some blood dripping down my forearm from one of my elbows and i'm kind of like “Damn it!” I'm even pissed off at myself, “How can I let myself fall on this trail? How did that happen?”

You know, you and I are running together and we get to like Hawkins at mile 9.2, and we go there, and you got out of that aid station pretty quick.

I take off from that aid station and not more than five minutes into that into that section, I eat shit harder than I ever have in any ultra that we've ever done. I mean complete shit. I went nose , face and fingers first. My nose got scraped and bloodied and my hand got seriously messed up.

Ouch!

You know right then and there I’m like “I am not having fun. I am pissed off and my hand is messed up." I have blood dripping everywhere. I thought I’d broken my hand. I was not having a good time, and I didn’t see myself pulling myself out of this frustration. I just knew how it was going to be. I felt this feeling before at a previous race in Kansas. And in this race, I was just not wanting to talk to people trying to convince me to keep running, even though my cadence was alright to the very end.

Physically, I was doing fine, but I was thinking, “I don’t want to be out here. Fuck this.” And I decided to bail out real quick . I don’t regret the bailing out under the circumstances.

I am just frustrated that I made those logistical errors before the race even started. I was doomed from the start from a decision a month before the race. But, Hey! I got to crew for you!

The Second 50K: Pine Hollow to Silver Springs and back to Pine Hollow

For this section, I had one goal and one goal only--to keep cool to be able to keep running. 13 miles of this section was going to be on the Bike and Hike trail and that meant exposure, but if I could keep my core cool enough, I might be able to keep running. I didn't take on ice at Pine Hollow, but after going up and down what I refer to as the Prairie Hill (top pic here), the rest of the section between Pine Hollow and Kendall lake is pretty and runable. I had started getting warm, and my legs were a little achy, but I was still able to move at a decent pace. Since I had some Chobani at Pine Hollow, I also felt adequately fueled.

As I got into Kendall Lake, I was hoping for salvation. Last year, they are the ones that suggested putting ice in my cap. So I got ice in my cap, put ice in my neck gaiter (to make an ice bandana) and down the reservoir of my pack to just keep ice on my body. My motto for this section is just "keep ice on my body". So, I get filled up with ice, but this year, they did not have popsicles like last year, and I was really disappointed. I still got some coke but I wasn't able to get any calories besides that.

The ledges are on the next section and that's really pretty even though I didn't have the agility to run it at that point. I then popped out of the woods, and I was on the bike trail. I started focusing on my pace and getting to the next aid station on Rte 8. I again get ice and coke, but again, no popsicles. It was 5 miles to the turn, and I am still well within my goal of getting there by 2:30 pm, which will be almost be an hour ahead of last year.

At mile 68, coming back into Pine Hollow

I got there in 10:23 (2:23 pm), averaging a pace of 12:20, not bad at all. I get in, Sean meets me with my cooler of Chobani, Mtn Dew, and chocalate milk and I start fueling. I take in a chobani. I've only had some coke and watermelon since Pine Hollow four hours ago. I then start drinking the mtn dew. I drink about 8 onces. Then a little more. Then a little... oh no.... and everything I put in my system in the last 4 hours comes out in one gigantic fountain. Well, that was unpleasant, but there's nothing else to do but get up and start running so I do.

I'm not back on the bike trail, ice in my cap, on my back and in my neck gaiter. I'm slowing down but still running a fair amount. I get into Rte 8 aid station. I sit for a bit longer this time and get out of there. Now some folks with pacers are starting to pass me, and I feel my legs getting heavier and my stomach is sour, and I don't have any fuel in me. I make it through the ledges and back down to Kendall lake.

The stretch from Kendall lake to Pine Hollow is the longest without an aid station at 5.8 miles. Additionally, after the prairie hill, there is a wooded section that seems to never end. I knew I had to get some fuel, so I start eating ramen at that point. The ramen nourishes me, but I'm afraid of overdoing it again and getting sick everywhere. I get ice, ginger ale and then I walk out. I'm about 50 yards away when I realize I didn't top off my water and have to walk back to the aid station. I have plenty of time but that still was really annoying.

Everything I put in my system in the last 4 hours comes out in one gigantic fountain. Well, that was unpleasant, but there's nothing else to do but get up and start running.

After sitting for a few, it takes longer to get running again. I talk to Simon for a bit, see Crystal and her pacer and get back into that woods sections. My phone has started to die, so I'm going to have to get Sean to charge it, and I know I'm only a few miles from a friendly face and some help at the aid station. I get into Pine Hollow around 7:20 or so, still an hour and 20 ahead of where I was last year. I'm hurting. My legs and my stomach have me in a lot of pain, but I'm still moving forward. I opt for a 7 minute nap. I get some ramen and some mtn. dew and head out once more. Two 50ks down. One to go.

The Final 50k; Pine Hollow to the Start/Finish

I had 33 miles to go and it was 7:40 pm by the time I left Pine Hollow. This meant 14:20 to finish and guarantee my WSER lottery entry for the year. All the stress about being able to finish was gone and now I just needed to see if I could meet my goal of getting a PR. Finishing in the next 11 hours would get me there. The sun was going down, and I didn't feel overheated like the middle stretch, but my body was hurting, so it was going to be a slog. Going more than 68 miles up that point had taken its toll, especially at the clip I had gone earlier.

I was going to meet Sean 11 miles later at Oak Hill aid station, and I gave myself 4 hours to get that done. That would mean my goal time into Oak Hill was about 11:30 pm. The three legs between aid stations ahead were evenly spaced at about 3.7 miles so I figured an hour and 15 minutes per plus 5 minutes per aid station would be a good easy goal. I got into Robinson Field closer to an hour after Pine Hollow, so I was continuing to make good time. I sat, got some coke, ramen and a popsicle, and then I was out. It was still daylight as I made my way through the corn fields and I knew that after this would be an easy stretch along the towpath.

Robinson Flat corn field on the way out

After getting through the cornfield and onto the towpath, I was with a 100 miler solo and a 100 miler with a pacer. Darkness fell. We kept going back and forth for a while until eventually, we were diverted off of the towpath and towards the Valley Picnic aid station. I remembered that this one had a cot last year, so I found that again, lay down and took about a 10 minute nap. Thanks to the aid station volunteered who watched over me while I was napping and brought me ramen!

On my way out of the aid station after just a little ramen and mtn dew, there is a pretty decent hill. As I climbed a relay runner came up beside me. She (Ellen) was a breath of fresh air (I know there was a stench around me by now), and since I only had a marathon to go, I just had to keep moving forward and any distraction would help. She gave me a Tums, which sometimes helps with my stomach, and then went on her way. I was eventually able to run again and I slowly picked my way through the roots and rocks which by this time were killing my feet. Every step hurt and I was starting to regret not swapping shoes or at least reapplying Trail Toes since I felt multiple hot spots from all the crunching on rocks.

I got into Oak Hill just before 11, so I was now 22.5 miles away with 11 hours to go and 8 hours to make a PR. On a better day I would have thought the 24 hour was still possible, but I had given up on that goal as I suffered through lack of energy due to my stomach. By now it was cool enough such that after sitting for 5 minutes at Oak Hill to get some rice with broth and my chocalate milk, I was actually starting to shiver. Sean offered me his long sleeve but I knew I just needed to get going.

The next stetch had a few steep rooty trails but also enough roads such that I knew I could run. In the dark, there were a few cars out that we had to watch for on the roads, but it never felt really dangerous as the clock ticked past midnight. I was now on the buckeye trail near the Hale Farm in Cuyahoga Vallney National Park and the sky was just cloudy enough to where we couldn't see many stars or planets. The moon was nowhere to be seen. I hear a few owls as I run through the woods. At some point a pack of coyotes goes off in the most eerie shrill set of screams and yips I've ever heard and I get a little spooked. No runners around me. Out alone in the dark. In the woods. Later I see a doe and two fawns, and I feel joy despite my feet and legs and stomach.

I end up at Botzum (mile 87) by about 1:45 am. I get some ramen and coke and get back out there. The tow path is easy but then I come across the trails where I lost the course last year for about 5-10 minutes. With even fewer people around, I made sure to keep track of the flags, and I made my way out. By then I was dreading the downhill more than the uphill since my body ached with the impact of each heavy downill step.

Around mile 90, I come across a runner sleeping on a park bench and it looks really enticing. I had been hallucinating and my brain couldn't process what that lumpy shape was. It looks like party decorations... is that a balloon? Some toys? Oh, nope. That's a human body. Around that time the uphills started hurting more, too, as my right achilles started aching. I felt like something was wrong, I NEVER got achilles issues, but at this point with 10 miles to go, I just had to make relentless forward progress.

I made it into North Hawkins and met up with Sean. One more aid station after this one. I needed just a little fuel. Ramen and coke and a quick 5 minute nap on a blue tarp. It was 3:20 and I had less than 10 miles to go. I got out of there, struggled through trails, struggled on uphills, struggled on downhills, more walking than running or what I hoped could pass for running and then eventually I made it to Hilltop aid station. Last one. 4.3 miles to go. Minimal fuel in my system and I was off. Up a big hill down a couple more and then onto the streets of Cuyahoga falls. By then it was 80 percent walk, 20 percent hobble, but as the sun rose I tried to make a valiant effort to run. My achilles was having none of that, so it was walk, walk, walk, light jog. Finally I was on front street and then the finish line in 26:26. A new PR for me by 38 minutes!

Finish line of BR 100

3 Lessons Learned

I came down with covid 3 weeks before this race, and I feared for the worst. My summer running season would be over and maybe my entire ultra running experience. But I was able to bounce back, and even got a PR. As I reflected on what went right for me (and what didn't go right for Sean and how it related to my previous races), I came up with 3 big takeaways.

1. It's very hard to be very busy with work and then bounce straight into a 100. Taking at least some time to get your mind ready is important. By having that rest day in Akron on Friday and not having to travel, I was able to be better mentally prepared than I was at say, Loup Garou 2020.

2. My stomach issues will continue to bother me, but I can be strategic to help minimize how much they affect my race. By staying cool and getting the fuel I could handle, I minimized the vomitting, and I was able to keep going. It hurt, but I was able to finish.

3. Having your WHY right is important. I DNF'd at Bighorn, and I needed a WSER lottery finish. That was my why. The body and mind want you to stop, but if you have to have a reason to keep running, you can do it. Withouth a clear "why", it's too easy to pack it in. I had my why for this race, and I was able to get it done.

2022 Burning River 100 mile buckle

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