Race Report - 2021 Barkley Fall Classic 50K

 

Cresting the top of Rat Jaw for the second time.

Wow! What an unexpected weekend! In more ways than one. First of all, it didn't seem like I was even going be be at the starting line. I was meant to do the Triple Crown of 200 Milers this summer with the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc 106M sandwiched in between, no time really to go for another Barkley Fall Classic 50K finish. More importantly, I was never selected for the race and had been on the waitlist for almost a year. But things can change quickly, for better and for worse.

Nothing like a quick dip in the creek after a warmup lap.

To kick things off, I did not succeed at my first attempt at the 200 mile distance and first event of the Triple Crown of 200s, the Bigfoot 200 in Washington. I dropped at mile 65 with blisters. I couldn't imagine another 160 miles on those feet. It did not fill me with confidence as I got ready to travel to France in an attempt to earn my third UTMB finish just 10 days later. Thankfully, my feet healed up enough and my tape job kept my feet in good condition for all of the 41 hours it took me to finish UTMB. The day prior to the start of the UTMB, I received an email notifying participants that massive wildfires in the Tahoe area had made the Tahoe 200 race scheduled for September impossible. So when an email with a BFC invite off the waitlist appeared in my email inbox I didn't hesitate to accept. 

Reaching the top of Rat Jaw for the first time of the day.

I only had one goal, make it around Frozen Head State Park and the 2021 BFC course in time to collect my fourth Croix rather than be timed out for a marathon finish, or worse, get hurt and/or timed out earlier. I had never had that concern before, but I was coming off UTMB just a short couple of weeks earlier, and my training this year just hadn't been anywhere near I'd usually be at by this time. Injuries cut my training cycles short, so (on average) I am standing at half the vert and nearly half the miles vs my previous years. It did not matter, maybe I'd get to run with someone and enjoy the day rather than break myself trying to run another PR. After all, you're really never able to beat a PR on this course as it changes every year.

Speaking of course changes, this year's course was a doozy. While we did get the course maps the night before the race rather than on race morning as was the case last year, there appeared to be a small course change (ie the course map had an error). Lucky for me, my buddy Jeff Deaton was in the know, aka a little birdie told him at race packet pickup. Three beers later, I had finally memorized this year's course map with Jeff's help, including that little course deviation early on in the race.

Travel logistics were also a bit more complicated this year. I had sold my Jeep a week before the race and my sprinter van was still parked in LA in anticipation of my next 200 miler attempt in Moab, UT. Since my new to me car wouldn't arrive until the week after BFC, I had to rent a car to travel to Frozen Head SP. Just as lat year, Brian Young was quick to offer his front yard as a campground for weary BFC travelers, including the post race Chili, beers and moonshine. He really is am amazing host that makes everyone feel welcome without asking for anything in return. This year, more than 20 runners got to enjoy his hospitality.

I opted to sleep in the back of my rented SUV, which turned out to not be such a great idea, ie. I didn't sleep but a couple of hours continuing to slide off the sleeping pad I had thrown into the back of the car. Didn't matter, I don't often get much sleep the night prior to any ultra anyway. I had already laid out my gear and supplies for race morning, so all that was left to do was tape my heels and make some coffee.

I rolled up to the start-finish line 30 minutes prior to race start and it was still pitch black. I scanned the area to look for and say hello to a few familiar faces before lining up in the starting coral. I briefly caught up with Liz who had recently moved to Colorado and came back to gun for the win. And I spotted Brett, another local Huntsville runner. We lined up near the front of the starting line, but I had no intention of sprinting from the start as is often the case a this race as runners jockey for position to avoid getting stuck in a conga line up one of the many single track trails in the park. Luckily, I had become somewhat familiar with the park's trails, so I knew the first section would be mostly on a wide jeep road all the way to the top of the first of six climbs. I won't be sharing a description of the course here as that would take away all of the fun for future runners, but I will say that this year offered up the most challenging weather conditions, yet. I'd take heat over rainstorms and the resulting mudslides any day on the BFC course. It also felt the longest of the courses I'd run over the years along with more vert than before. Exactly what one hopes for when toeing the starting line at the BFC.

For the next nearly 11 hours, Brett and I would basically run together or at least be within each other's earshot as our day's ebbed and flowed. I was thankful to have company for a race I knew would take me a bit longer than usual, but we agreed that we would not hold each other back in case either one of us wanted to take off and push. That never happened, we just managed to run mostly comfortably without ever waling any runnable sections. I did, however, make a point of not running any inclines at all and pushing the pace a little on the downhills. As the course deteriorated on both the climbs and the descents, our pace forcibly slowed.

It became a challenge just to maintain any kind of momentum and all one could do is laugh at it. Laugh at the comedy that played out among all of us runners as powerline cuts turned into muddy slip and slides, resulting in uncontrollable "mud glissading" down the powerline cuts and pulling yourself up these same mud slides on an actual decommissioned power line. We just "assumed" it was decommissioned, which it was, but it had only been for a little over a week! One local "angel" had actually ensured that the power company turn off this line that would have otherwise been a live powerline on race day. You could say we all got very lucky! It was an easy mistake. There had been a few other decommissioned powerlines along the course that we were able to sue over the years, but this one looked much newer and shinier and we should've probably wondered why that was. Thankfully, no runner was electrocuted during the running of this race:-) 

I made it to the decision point and how tempting it may have seemed to hear Laz ask whether I wanted to take the marathon win, I told him the same thing I had every year prior: "no freaking way!" 

Brett and I continued to make our way towards and up the final climb, which took f-o-r-e-v-e-r. When we finally arrive at the top and started running the ridge line, there were still a few more climbs before the final 5K descent. Hike up run down, hike up, run down. Most of the trails in this park are not familiar with the concept of switchbacks. Eventually, the up and down ended and we finally descended. I was "smelling the barn" ie. I was ready to get it done. My legs felt pretty good, so I let it rip. I may have passed about 10 runners over this final stretch and was elated to finally cross that finish line just before dark. I collected my fourth croix and headed pretty much straight for the local rancher association hosting the cookout for the event, ordering a couple of veggie burgers and a couple of pepsis to replenish the energy lost during the day. Brett finished just behind me and when it was all said and done, a total of 170 runners out of 460 managed to earn a 50K finish on what was likely one of the toughest days in BFC history, yet still not anywhere even remotely close to what Big Barkers deal with, in case anyone is wondering:-) I've only crewed and that as enough to learn that much. 

Hopefully, I will be back next year to earn my fifth croix...

Collected my fourth Croix at the finish line, hardest earned one, yet.

Race Report - 2021 Bigfoot 200M (DNF)

Volcanic boulder fields were both awe inspiring and fun to experience.

I had waited more than two years to finally toe the start line of my first 200 mile endurance race. Not only that, after the adventurous summer of 2019 I really wanted to take it up one more little notch, so I signed up for the Triple Crown of 200s, 'cause what else are you gonna do when you haven't run a 200 mile race. Obviously, you sign up for three of them. I had lots of time to both train and prepare the logistics of an undertaking of this magnitude. Unfortunately, I had a few setbacks along the way and while that added to my uncertainty of the outcome at the start line, I was pretty confident in my overall training and prep. I had chosen to run solo, i.e. without the support of a crew or pacers. This meant extra care as I was preparing all ten of my drop bags. Let's just say there are more than 10 spreadsheets detailing the contents of each, from sleeping bags to foot care to nutrition. Travel planning created another challenge with a shortage in rental cars. Finally, finding lodging near the finish was just as challenging due to the remoteness of the race. In the end, everything lined up as needed and I showed up at race check-in at the finish line in Randle, Washington on time. 

Pre-race mugshot

When I arrived, runners had already started to line up at various check-in stations along the track of the local High School football field. After Medical, bib number pickup, swag pickup and pre-race mugshots I went back into the parking lot to drop of my drop bags at the appropriate drop off locations. Half of the bags would be moving from one aid station to another one later on in the race, so I needed to take extra care in planning the contents of each bag. I plan to follow up with a post for 200 mile race logistics once my crazy summer comes to an end, but suffice it to say that I spent a lot of time and savings on making sure I was prepared for every possible race scenario, be it related to weather, terrain or physical issues. Unfortunately, that did not save my race, but more about that later.

Of course, one of the shuttle busses had to break down during the 2.5 hour transit from the race finish to the start line. It was Friday the 13th after all.

I was done with my check-in pretty quickly and started the 1 hour drive back to my hotel with plenty of time for an early dinner. Since I had a 3:30AM wakeup call to have enough time to make the 60 minute drive back to the race finish for the shuttle pickup and ride to the race start, I grabbed dinner very early, finished final race pack prep and was down for the night by 8:30PM. Unlike in other races with early wakeup calls, I actually managed to 7 hours of decent sleep before the alarm started to ring. Things were off to a great start as I knew I would be sleep deprived for the next 3-4 days out there making my way from Mount St. Helens back the the finish line in the town of Randle, Washington. 

Mount St. Helens looming in the distance.

By the time runners would finish the race, they would cover nearly 210 miles and climb 42,000' to earn that 200 mile buckle. I arrived for shuttle pickup with plenty of time for one last proper bathroom stop before piling into one of the 4 school busses that would take us to the start line. We started the 2.5 hour drive on time. Halfway into the ride, one of the busses broke down requiring those runners to spread out to the other busses. After that delay we hit a remote construction site that added another 30 minutes to our ride. When we finally made it to the race start, they had to move the start from 9AM to 9:30AM. 

I got to say hello to some of the Silverstar Nutrition crew at the start before we were sent off straight onto a single track to start the race. I saw a couple of friends and familiar faces early on, but was pretty much on my own after the first 2 miles. The first section of the race consisted of 12 miles with 3300' of vert. It started with a slow and steady climb pretty much from the start. Temps were still fairly mild, but that didn't last long at all. We also got the first glimpse of Mount St. Helens. We would keep this impressive volcano in the corner of our right eye for most of the day. After some serious climbing we entered the infamous boulder fields, a mix of big boulders and smaller lava rock with fine lava sand mixed in that started to work my feet early. Hopping across boulders was fun, even though it made for slow progress. The sharp lava rocks and fine dust were a different challenge entirely. As the day progressed and the heat climbed quickly, these last two factors would ultimately play a large role in my demise.

I had expected to cover the first 12 miles in about 2:30 hours, but ended up taking about 3 hours plus 20 minutes at the fist aid station. My buddy Walt had shared some wise insight during our shuttle ride, "fill up your nutrition and fluids to the max at the first aid station. You will need it on the next 18 mile section", 18 miles of fully exposed desolate volcanic terrain with triple digit temps. This section ultimately ended my race before it really started.

I heeded his advice and filled up my 2 liter hydration bladder to the top. I also stopped at every single water crossing to scoop up water with my filter bottle and kept taking salt and electrolytes. However, even 12 bottles of fluids during this 18 mile stretch weren't enough to keep me properly hydrated, adding to my foot issues along with the heat and terrain. As a result, I started to develop my first blister before I ever made it to the mile 30 aid station at Windy Ridge.

While my electrolytes/hydration seemed to be out of whack, that did not affect me too badly. I had zero stomach issues and didn't feel underfueled (Note: It did, however, take me more than 10 hours to actually pee and another 10 for the coloring to be somewhat clear, an indication that my hydration was finally normalizing. Still, I realized later that I was severely bloated as a result of the fluid imbalance I experienced).

I rolled into mile 30 feeling great, aside from my feet. I had a plan and executed it as intended. Of course, with all of the drop bags I prepared, somehow this one did not contain a fresh pair of socks. I did, however, take my left heel and lubed both feet to the max after cleaning them thoroughly with wet wipes and drying them out. The friendly medical staff was kind enough to assist me with the tape. While taking care of my feet, I notices some of the early carnage around me. Quite a few runners had developed stomach issues, unable to keep nutrition down. Apparently, the extreme heat created problems for many. I'm sure the final finishing rate will tell the real story, but for now I assume it will be much lower than in years past.

After spending a good amount of time drying, taping and lubing my feet and grabbing some tortillas, I started the next 10 mile section. I was probably moving better in this section than any other, running much of it until the last part that contain most of the climbing in this stretch. I came into mile 40 AS at Johnston Ridge to some delicious warm food and a familiar face (great to see you again, Deon and congrats again on your BW135 finish). I made it to this aid station just before dark, but added my UltrAspire Lumen 600 waist light and a backup headlight before heading out on the next 6+ mile stretch to Coldwater Lake.

During these two sections, my feet held up ok, but they weren't getting any better. By the time I made it to mile 46 at Coldwater Lake AS, I was determined to keep going. 18 more miles to Norway Pass at mile 65 and my first sleeping bag, so I could take my first nap. I had been taking a lot longer than I anticipated, so I figured I wouldn't make it to the next stop until after sunrise. Just as well, Saturday was expected to be just as hot as Friday, so I might as well spend the night to "run" and rest during the daylight.

But the best laid out plans often get blown to bits during an ultra and today was no exception. While I managed my feet ok during the previous two sections, this one wasn't as kind to my feet. I started to develop another blister on my left foot followed by hotspots and ultimately blisters on the heel of my right foot as well. A couple of hours later I developed hotspots under both balls of my feet as a result of trying to stay off my heels. My feet kept getting worse. I still had hours to go before the next stop. Slowly but surely, sleep deprivation set in as well. The 5000' of vert along this 18 mile section kept worsening the blisters. It became clear that I about reached the end of my adventure. I could not envision limping for another 145 miles with two blistered feet, turning the blood blisters into something even worse, what exactly I wasn't sure nor did I want to find out. 

I have not had a lot of DNFs, so coming to this tough decision took the better part of the last section. I am always ready and willing to take on the toughest challenges out there, but I did get into ultras for the adventure AND the fun. I was no longer having any fun. In addition, I had another 3 massive challenges lined up for this summer. Continuing to push did not seem like a healthy choice. There were many other factors I considered, including my recent injury history and risks of further flareups. Ultimately, I made peace with my decision before I ever arrived at the aid station. I had decided to sit down first, clean my feet, get some food and then decide if I would drop. My decision did not change and I was ok with that. "Un"-fortunately, my Altra Red teammate and friend David also had issues and arrived at mile 65 around the same time. Unable to keep food down, he made his own decision to drop at this point. His lovely wife and he graciously agreed to give me a ride back to the finish line and to my rental car. 

Thankfully, I was able to secure a motel an hour away. A short nap and a burger later I was still ok with my decision and started planning my return trip home. After all, the next massive adventure was just around the corner, UTMB before I would take on Tahoe 200 followed by Moab 240. Here's hoping that I can apply what I learned and that it will keep me from experiencing the same issues in he future. Even after more than 100 ultra finishes, the learning never stops, just like in everything else in life:-)

My Why and How of the Triple Crown of 200s

It was October 2019 and I had just finished my biggest athletic challenge ever, completing the Last Great Race of Ultrarunning. This Slam consists of running the six oldest 100 mile races in the US in the span of 14 weeks, Old Dominion 100 in Virginia, Western States 100 in California, Vermont 100, Angeles Crest 100 in California, Leadville 100 in Colorado and Wasatch Front 100 in Utah. I started in June and was done by September. I added the Arkansas Traveler 100 in October as it represented the 8th oldest race and really, why not. That year, only one other runner, Sean Nakamura, attempted and completed this Slam alongside me, making us the 40th and 41st runners in 35+ years to complete this challenging series.

At the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning awards ceremony after completing the Grand Slam and the Last Great Race of Ultrarunning Slam at the Wasatch Front 100 in 2019. 

However, my contentment didn't last long. In fact, less than a week after finishing the Arkansas Traveler 100, I was wondering what would be, what could be next. How could I possibly top this personal accomplishment? Did I really need to top this? After about a day of contemplation I came up with my next challenge. I decided from the get go that this would be my last volume focused running challenge. I wanted to race 1,000 miles in the span of 14 weeks, the California Untamed 330, Bigfoot 200, Tahoe 200 and Moab 240 plus a 50K TBD. I named this running project the Untamed Triple Crown or UTC1000. And then COVID happened...and some wildfires...and suddenly my massive project was a massive bust.

Fast forward to January 2021. The California Untamed 330 had been postponed indefinitely, but it seemed the Triple Crown was very likely to happen. Luckily, I was able to roll over my entries from 2020 to 2021. My "consolation price" for not being able to run the California Untamed 330 was my draw in the UTMB lottery to allow me to go for a third finish at that world class event that has all the feels and excitement of a Tour de France like spectacle. While it didn't add up to 1,000 miles, it easily added up to 1,000+ kilometers. I was perfectly fine with that. After all, I had an entire year to think about my choices. I was also a year older, which meant that I would attempt this challenge as my 50th birthday challenge.

I started to train in late January. So how do you train for a 200 miler, let alone three of them? No really, I didn't know. I still don't. The furthest I had gone previously was 120 miles at the Fat Dog 120 Miler in British Columbia, Canada. This was an entirely different scenario. So many things to consider, so let's just start with the actual training. My training cycle basically started at zero as I was previously dealing with some unrelated health issues. I decided to build my training plan the same way I built my training plan for my summer of 100s in 2019. After all, there was only so much time in a day and I still had a family and a job to take care of. As a result, I decided early on that my mileage would be very similar. For the most part, I was able to stick to my overall plan. I would allow for changes/adjustments due to work, so it hopefully wouldn't affect me mentally when it did happen.

Barely missing my 7 year old half marathon PR at the Oak Barrel Half in April.

Expect the unexpected, it's kinda how we are raised in Germany, well, at least I was. I focused on base building and I made strength training a major component of my training along with a strict whole foods plant based diet. Strength training would support injury prevention and the diet would prevent serious inflammation and quicker recovery. I learned that in the summer of 2019.

On my way to setting the new course record at the Double Top 100K in April.

I continued training as best I could. Ultrarunning is all about problem solving and overcoming challenges and this was just part of the deal. Fast forward to today, just over 2 weeks out from the start of the Bigfoot 200 and I just had an MRI on my neck done, diagnosis bulging disc. Yet another obstacle on the road to finishing my biggest challenge to date. But obstacles are there to be overcome. Ultrarunners are problem solvers. I will be spending the next 2 weeks on preparing my drop bags, 10 to be exact, some of the being transported to multiple aid stations and sleep stations, which requires serious planning. How much fuel and what gear to put where. When will I sleep? What happens when I miscalculate? Miscalculations are a given, so plan for every possible eventuality. There are lots of spreadsheets in my immediate future. I plan out everything as it relates to nutrition, hydration and gear. I decided on a sleep strategy as well, but I will roll with the punches as needed. In a perfect world, I will run/walk the first 48 hours without sleep, allowing only for micro sleeps of 5 minutes or so (I tested it crewing/pacing at Badwater and it works!), before trying to get about 2 hours of rest after 48 hours and see what happens. I have a distance and time goal as well, but that is truly secondary. Crossing the finish line one race at a time is my goal. 

Seconds before rolling my ankle and abandoning the second stage of the Grand Viduta Stage Trail Race. I would continue to deal with this injury indefinitely.

My training started off great. I had some great runs during the first 3 months of training followed by some injury woes and some travel resulting in less than optimal training. However, Id like to think that I put in the work and I do have 10 years of consistent training and 100+ ultra finishes under my belt, so surely that counts for something, right? I've learned that it's ok to be afraid or uncertain, but that's what makes running any ultra so exciting, the absolute and total uncertainly of what the day or days will bring. See you at the start line.