I had hopes of breaking 13 hours at
this year’s Bandera 100k, but those hopes were quickly dashed with one glance
at the weather forecast. Temps would be
in the mid 60s and humid at the start, and rain was a possibility. Add to that the storms that dumped inches of
rain on the course a few days prior, and I knew this race would be a slugfest,
a battle of attrition. Within a few
minutes I was totally drenched, and my shoes were squishing with sweat. I ran with friends Rachel and Travis for a
bit, up and down Sky Island (no views today as the fog was thick and wet), over
to Ice Cream Hill (ask Chris how it got its name), and into Nachos aid station
where my Rockhopper friends and family would be waiting. My goal was to consume one bottle of Carbo
Pro between each aid station for as long as I could (or until my stash of Carbo
Pro ran out), so I dumped a baggie of powder in my bottle and had Nacho Libre
Bowling filled it with water.
I followed
Rachel out of Nachos, and we ran together most of the way to Chapas (mile
11). My legs felt good, but my breathing
was labored (probably due to the warmer than normal temps and high humidity),
so I tried to walk some of the uphills.
I was already behind schedule (not surprising given the conditions), so
I focused on doing what I could to stave off the inevitable death slog that was
sure to come later in the race. I
arrived at Chapas and quickly changed out my empty bottle for a fresh one
filled with Carbo Pro and set off for my least favorite section of the course. I knew this stretch would be muddy and fairly
flat, making for some painful running. I
ran where I could and hiked where I needed to, and shortly was passed by Tim
Olson, who ended up winning the 50k. I
knew Joe had shortened the field section and replaced the mileage with a “new
hill”, so I was excited to see what he had in store for us. The field section wasn’t filled with
shoe-sucking mud like I expected.
Instead, it was softer mud that stuck to your shoes and made you feel
like you were running on platform shoes with 5 pound ankle weights attached to
your feet. Not what I would call
fun. I decided it was better for me to
hike (sounds tougher than walk) this section (even the slight downhills), as I
figured running would only speed muscle fatigue and end up costing me more time
later in the race. So I hiked through
the muck, cursing the rain and the humidity.
As we crossed over the park road, we veered left instead of right. So this was the section Joe had changed. Much to my delight, he added an extra hill,
meaning less mud and more fun. Up and
over and then into Crossroads for the first of four stops at this aid station
during the race.
(Running down Trail 8 - photo by Brian Kuhn)
At
Crossroads I quickly changed out my empty handheld for a fresh bottle of Carbo
Pro, but I also made sure to suck down an extra 10-15 ounces of plain water,
something I would repeat for the remainder of the race. As I was leaving I noticed Travis was still
there, taping up one of his toes. He
quickly caught up to me, and we ran together for a bit before bumping into our
friend Josh, who was having some stomach issues. I had intended to run much of this section,
but the 3 Sisters were not in a good mood this morning and would force us to
trudge up and jog down them. I felt the
humidity sucking the energy right out of me, but I knew this would pass once
the sun went down and the temps cooled off.
Soon the 3 of us were heading down the final descent into Crossroads,
where I would once again grab a fresh bottle and guzzle extra water.
(Heading into Crossroads with Josh Bart at mile 21)
I was
dreading the next few miles, as I knew they would be muddy since much of this
section is in the trees. My reward for
enduring the mud would be a climb up Lucky’s Peak, a short but nasty hill that
is a signature of any Bandera race. I
was expecting mud, and this section did not disappoint. After slogging through 2+ miles of sticky
slop, I climbed up and over Lucky and made a stop at Last Chance (mile
26). My friend Roger was in charge of this
aid station, and we chatted briefly before I was gone again, this time with a
bottle of plain water (I was out of Carbo Pro).
My plan had been to switch to a higher fat fuel once I was out of Carbo
Pro, and I’d be using Pocket Fuel for the next stretch. Pocket Fuel is a mixture of various nut
butters (peanut, hazelnut, or almond) with some fruit flavoring thrown in. I loved them!
I was surprised (not in a good way) to find Cairn’s and Boyle’s (last 5
miles of loop) very muddy, probably the wettest mud I’d seen all day. I had hoped the rocks would be a welcome
change, but they were slick and muddy too.
Instead of making up some time on this section as I’d hoped, I had to
pick my way through the mud and try to stay upright. It didn’t help that the sun was starting to
peak through the clouds and warm up the day.
After slowly making my way up and over these two climbs, I hit the short
stretch of flat jeep road that would take me to the Lodge (mile 31) and
turnaround point. I saw several friends
hanging out when I ran in, and part of me wished I would drop so I could hang
out too. I came in around 6:35 for my
first loop, roughly 45 minutes slower than I had hoped (before the mud and
humidity entered the picture). The
thought of running another 31 miles in these conditions didn’t thrill me, but I
wasn’t about to drop now.
I grabbed
more Pocket Fuel out of my drop bag, said hello to a few friends, and ran out
with Joe Tamarro (he had run the 50K and wanted to get a few more miles in) for
a bit. Soon I was climbing up to the top
of Sky Island, which was even muddier now than the first time we had come
through. If every section was muddier
than before, this was going to be a very long loop. Somewhere between Sky Island and Nachos aid
station (probably after I summited Ice Cream Hill), the heat and humidity began
to take its toll. This was by far the
worst stretch of the race for me, but I knew it wasn’t anything I could
control. I needed to continue to drink
fluids, put calories in my gut, and just keep moving. I arrived at Nachos to a warm greeting from
my Rockhopper friends, who filled my bottle with ice cold water, which I sucked
down and immediately re-filled. After
collecting myself for a couple minutes, I trudged off, not wanting to get too
comfortable by sitting at the aid station too long.
Historically, this stretch of the
race is usually when things begin to turn around for me. The sun starts to go down, and the temps cool
off. Although still a long way from
finishing, you begin to see (dim) light at the end of the tunnel. This year was no different. I steadily made my way from Nachos, past the
park headquarters, and onto Trail 8.
Somewhere along this section I passed a girl who had been in front of me
the past few miles. I really wasn’t
moving any faster than she was, but she decided she needed to stop for a quick
break, and this was just the mental boost I needed. Passing people in the later stages of a race
always lifts my spirits and seemingly breathes new life into my body. Once I passed her I tried to pick up the pace
a bit, not wanting her to pass me up when she started feeling better. So I ran.
When I did, I noticed that my legs felt better than they had in hours,
and I was actually able to move without too much discomfort. I convinced myself to try doing this until I
had to stop. I ended up running the rest
of the way to Chapas (mile 42), where I stopped to assess my growing blisters
(my socks had slipped down, causing the dirt and mud to rub directly against
the bare skin on my heels. Convinced I
would have some nasty blisters the next day but nothing that would end my race,
I ran off, merging onto Trail 9.
I knew the next section would be
muddy as heck, so I told myself I would run until I hit the bad mud, which I
assumed would be less than a mile away.
Apparently the cooler temps had been dropped on us by a strong northerly
wind, which also served to significantly dry out (there was still some mud) many
sections of the course. Combined with
the music coming from my iPod (mixture of bluegrass and jam bands), I began to
feel great. I looked down at my Garmin
and was shocked to see I was running sub 9 minute miles, not fast but good for
me this late in a race. I even found
myself playing “air banjo” a few times as I scooted down the trail. Yep, I’m both a hillbilly and not afraid to
look stupid. At this point I was mixing
my Pocket Fuel with the occasional peanut butter Gu, a strategy that seemed to
be working well. My stomach felt fine,
and my energy was as good as it had been all day. I passed several people on my way to
Crossroads, which I hit just as it was getting dark.
Larry and Jean saw me come into
Crossroads and quickly helped re-fill my bottles and send me on my way. I ran all the way down Trail 1 (about a mile)
before I turned my headlamp on. I felt
better than I had since the start of the race, so I picked up the pace, even
managing to run up two of the 3 Sisters, a feat I hadn’t been able to
accomplish on this section 31 miles prior.
I passed more people here and soon found myself at Crossroads (mile 52)
for the final time. I chatted with Chris
Russell, who was about to start the loop I had just completed, with the help of
his daughter.
At this point I knew I would finish, but I was
still uncertain about my time. I felt
good now, but surely that would change at some point, right? After doing some mental math in my head, I
decided to run as hard as I could and let the chips fall where they may. The tree-covered section leading to Lucky’s
Peak was drier than before, which allowed me to cover this section quicker than
I had the first time. Up and over Lucky
I went, back to Roger and his crew at Last Chance. After refusing all the offerings Roger had
cooked (I was adamant about sticking to the nutrition plan that had worked
splendidly thus far), I grabbed a cup of chicken noodle soup and bid farewell
to the last aid station I would see before the finish (5 miles away). I quickly downed the soup and started
jogging. Not 10 seconds later I felt
that all too familiar feeling in my gut.
I stopped, not wanting to ruin the first perfect 50+ mile race I had
ever experienced in terms of nutrition. One more step and I knew it was not to
be. I pulled off the trail and proceeded
to throw up everything I had eaten over the previous few hours. It was fast but violent. While I was upset that I wasn’t going to make
it through this race without puking (nothing new for me), I knew I had done
everything right the previous 57 miles and would be fine without ingesting any
more fuel over the final 5 miles of the race.
Up and over Cairn’s, same with Boyle’s, and soon I was back on that
glorious stretch of jeep road that leads to the finish. I crossed the line in 14:13, the slowest of
my 4 Bandera finishes, but in some ways my most satisfying. Joe P was there to hand me my buckle, and
soon I was warming up in the tent the way every ultra runner should –
surrounded by friends and family while sipping on a good home brew.
While my 2013 Bandera experience
didn’t produce the fastest time, I was very pleased with my overall
performance. I actually ran (albeit
slowly) more of the second loop than I had the first. My climbing felt better than it ever has
before, giving me a tremendous mental boost for the upcoming year. As always, my Brooks Cascadias were the
perfect shoe. I never once was bother by
the rocks, nor did I ever feel the need to change shoes during the race. My nutrition was the best it’s ever been at
an ultra. I will definitely be using the
Carbo Pro/Pocket Fuel combo in the future.
I also feel my general nutrition heading into the race was great, as
I’ve really tried to clean up my diet (will write more about that soon), a
change that has helped me shed 15 pounds in the past few months. Finally, in what can only be described as a
miracle, I had ZERO CHAFING! Given the
high humidity and unseasonably warm temps, this was nothing short of shocking
for me. I am really excited about the
upcoming year and can’t wait to get back out on the trail for another
adventure. My sub 13 Bandera finish will
just have to wait another year.
(This year's buckle)
