Race Report - 2021 Moab 240 Mile Endurance Run

Aerial view of mile 13 on the course.

Where to begin on this one. While I haven't nearly begun to truly process what transpired over those 4 days in Utah traversing both mountains and desert terrain around Moab, I figured it's time to put pen to paper or more accurately, finger to keyboard. It had been a year with plenty of ups and downs, both in my health and in my running. I was determined to keep the positive momentum going to the end of the year by finishing my first 200+ miler. My first attempt at the distance at the Bigfoot 200 in August did not go well at all and ended in an early DNF and I wasn't interested in creating a 200 mile DNF streak for myself. After the Tahoe 200 being postponed for the second year in a row (Covid & devastating wildfires), this was going to be my only chance to actually finish the 200 mile distance in 2021. My original goal was the Triple Crown of 200, but after DNFing the first one and the second event being cancelled, I was excited to just get a chance at actually finishing one of the events.

Aerial view looking back at the descent at mile 13 with Moab just behind the ridge.

I intended to get to Moab the day prior to race packet pickup and to camp at one of the nearby BLM campsites. I had left my camper van on the west coast over the summer in anticipation of the 200s, but when I arrived in town, all BLM sites were already taken. Luckily, I was able to grab a spot at one of the developed RV parks right next to the race start and finish location. 

Packet pickup was rather uneventful for me. I didn't really run into any old friends, but that was to be expected considering that I was a long way from my own backyard, nearly 2000 miles to be exact. I checked in with the medical team as is required after picking up my race bib, parking pass and purchased race swag. Afterwards, I quickly made my way to a small local vegan food truck for early dinner, so I could head back to my campsite and van to finalize my drop bags and to get my running kit ready.

Single track along the rim overlooking the Colorado river after climbing out of aid station #2 Amasa Back.

Once everything was packed and ready to go I took one last hot shower as I knew I would have to be without access to one for the next 4 days:-) I laid down early to ensure i was off my feet as much as possible leading into the race, even if I knew I wasn't going to sleep much. Staying close to the race start also allowed me to sleep an extra thirty minutes or so as my plan was to get there as close to the actual race start as possible. 

Looking back on the course around mile 19.

The race was scheduled to start at 6AM on Friday, so very similar to the usual start times for other ultras. I had set my alarm for 4:30AM on race morning, but I was up by 4AM. I started my day by making a pot of coffee and by taping my feet. This is when I realized I did not have enough tape, so I could only tape my heels. Next up, lube and guess what...I had grabbed the one empty Squirrel's Nut Butter Stick rather than any of the new ones from home. I was now two for two in regards to pre-race mistakes. Oh well, I thought, I might as well get ready for more of this over the next 4 days. I fully expected numerous unexpected challenges and problems to be solved and running was the least of the things I would worry about.

I left the campground at 5AM and pulled into the overnight parking lot for runners 5 minutes later. I finished my morning coffee, grabbed my race pack, stashed my van keys and walked the quarter mile to the race start. I was dark, but the energy was palpable. There were more than just a few camera crews there to document various runners' journeys and lots of phones and cameras were flashing. Lots of faces reflected both excitement and anticipation of the unknown. After a brief "pep talk" by RD Candice Burt, we pushed closer to the start line under the start/finish arch and waited on the signal to go. At 6AM, we took off into the (still) dark streets of Moab, Utah. 

The first 9+ mile stretch to the Hidden Valley aid station took us through the streets of Moab for about 3 miles before we hit single track and started our first (albeit minor) climb towards and past the aid station. I tried to settle into an easy pace from the get go as this would be one of the most important tactical decisions to finishing a race of this distance, along with a solid nutrition and sleep strategy, of course. But even more important than either of these strategies would be my ability to accept challenges as they arose during the race and to adapt to them. As a famous boxer (Iron Mike) once said: "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth." I had learned that first hand and quite literally as a teenager and in early adulthood as a kickboxer and it applies just as much to running long distances, especially when running 100 miles or more, even if less literal and more metaphoric. In the words of my friend and fellow ultrarunner Paul Morris: "Success in ultrarunning isn't so much about running as it is about solving problems." These are the things I think about when getting ready for and starting any event of 100 miles or longer and the Moab 240 was no different. 

As I started to make my way up and along the single track trail above Moab, the sun started to rise allowing us runners to turn off our headlamps. Before I knew it, I saw the first aid station just below us and a short descent later, I wolfed down an avocado sandwich, refilled my bottles and continued on. It is worth noting that all aid stations, but especially all of the early ones had a really nice variety of food items, including plant-based choices. As a result, I ate real foods from the start and supplemented it with the real food (i.e. Spring Energy gels) that I had stashed in my numerous drop bags to keep extra weight in my pack to a minimum. Pack weight can be a real issue, so it is really important that one plans very carefully as the combination of mandatory gear, large amounts of fluids and food can add up quickly to a very heavy pack. Thankfully, the temperatures initially thought to approach tripe digits never really crept much higher than the 70s. As a result, some of us were able tog et away with carrying a lot less fluids and water than otherwise recommended. 

The next stretch to Amasa Back aid station at mile 18 was quite memorable as well, with bits of technical single track followed by some more runnable stretches and a memorable slick rock section overlooking the Colorado River as we descended towards a 2 mile road stretch to Amasa. I had been in this area earlier in the year while camping and running a 50K just outside Moab (Red Hot 55K), but was unable to get a camping spot this time around as they were all already taken. I did, however, check out the area the day before the race to get some drone footage. Just before I started the descent to the river, it started to drizzle a bit. 30 minutes later, it had turned to a steady drizzle, which led me to put on my waterproof prior to leaving the Amasa Back aid station. Once again, the volunteers were amazing and the spread was plentiful. 

The next section had us descending to a small creek before starting a climb headed to the top of a rim along the Colorado River on the Jackson Trail, a single track trail that would eventually send us to the top of and down Jackson Ladder (aka Jacob's Ladder). Our next stop and respite would be Basecamp aid station at mile 33, just over 50K into the race. It is worth mentioning that after the first two aid stations of the race, the sections between aid stations would be anywhere between 15-27 miles. Considering the slower pace of an event of this distance, that meant excruciatingly long stretches of time without any additional food, water and often without much interaction with any other humans. This was particularly tough during the overnight stretches.

Once I made it to Basecamp AS, I made sure to refill both my bottles and my hydration bladder as we had a 25 mile stretch ahead of us with only a water stop in between. I also made sure to eat a couple of tortilla/avocado rollups. This next stretch was probably my best or second best one of the race, but I had made a mental mistake. An unexpected spectator had called out my placement in the field a few miles back and I was sitting way higher in the field than I had expected and of course that messed with my head, if only for a short time. However, it was long enough to have me push juuust a little in this section and while I arrived at mile 57 Oasis aid station (formerly Breaking Bad AS) feeling great, the wheels came off ever so slightly on the next section between mile 57 and Indian Creek aid station at mile 72. I did get a great mental boost coming into Oasis as my good friend Jay and his buddy (and soon to be good friend of mine) Brian ran this aid station. Jay and I met just a few months earlier crewing and pacing a mutual friend of ours at Badwater and Jay had suggested that he may be bale to crew/pace me for the last 50 miles or so at Moab, if I wanted the help. Of course I did, but to be honest, I didn't really expect him to be able to, so I planned with lots of drop bags just to be save. Imagine my surprise when he confirmed that he and Brian would join me to crew and pace me as soon as they could once they closed down Oasis AS. I was stoked about these news and as would become clear later on, I desperately needed their help and support. As many ultrarunners know, it is not about having someone hand you your supplies or dragging your butt along the course, it is much more about seeing a familiar and friendly face and having someone listen, give you that little nudge or reassure you when you need it the most.

 It started to get dark just after I left Oasis AS and as the sun went down, so did my energy. I started to feel the first 60 miles and as a result, I reached my lowest point of the entire race over the course of the next 12 miles. I went from a decent running pace to a shuffle to a power hike to a slow walk. And as my pace slowed my mental fortitude waned just as quickly. By the time I arrived at Indian Creek for my first planned "rest break", I was pretty much determined to quit. I say pretty much, because I wasn't willing to hand in my GPS tracker and take off my race bib just yet. Instead, I went through the motions of getting refueling and changing into warm dry clothes (that I had stashed in my drop bag along with a sleeping bag) to try to get a short nap. All the while I was pretty sure I was done for good. I kept chatting with volunteers and medical staff as I continued to eat and drink to try to get my energy levels back up and to see whether it would have an effect on my current mindset. It did not, but I decided to try to get some rest before making any final decisions. I was nearly a day ahead of cutoffs, so there was no reson to rush to any decision. I asked a volunteer to wake me in 3 hours and crawled into one of the tents to get some rest. I nodded off pretty quickly, but just an hour later, I was awake again, my mind spinning and still not agreeing to continue on. I laid there staring at the tent ceiling for another two hours before climbing out of the tent and grabbing one of the chairs near the propane fire pit. I usually consider sitting down by a fire the kiss of death in an ultra and I never do during a 100 miler, but this situation was different. 

Canyon between The Island and Bridger Jack aid stations, somewhere between miles 87 and 102.

After sitting by the fire for another 30 minutes or so, I made my way back over to the food and medical tent. I went through the motions of getting my pack ready, still not convinced I would continue. Then I asked Nicole, one of the amazing medical staff to check my feet and tape them as needed for any hotspots or blisters. Even if I didn't continue, it would hurt to take care of my feet. I kept telling myself: "You might as well go through the motions...". Nicole checked my feet, confirmed that there were no blisters and reapplied tape as needed to address hotspots. By the time Nicole finished taping my feet and I finally took of my warm pants and jacket, I had spent nearly 6 1/2 hours at Indian Creek AS. It was now 4AM and I finally made a deal with myself. Make it to the next checkpoint and then decide, if you want to go on. No more, no less. No massive commitments to finish the whole thing, just the commitment to make it to the next aid station. I stuck to that commitment for the remainder of my Moab adventure.

When I finally left the Indian Creek aid station with full bottles, fuel and a secret stash of candy (courtesy of my favorite medic Nicole), I bumped into another runner, Marc, and we decided to stick together for a while. Turns out, we kept each other accountable and moving through the next 24 hours or 50 miles, all the way up and down Shay Mountain, both the most challenging and coldest part of the course for us. Thanks again Marc for the encouragement and company through those hours and miles.

Marc and I made our way to the Island aid station at mile 87. This stretch of the course consisted of some black top running as well as some easy dirt road type stuff. we rolled into the aid station together, but I ended up leaving just before him, sure that he would catch up with me shortly after, which he did eventually. I think I ended up arriving at Bridger Jack aid station just past the 100 mile mark shortly before him, but I decided to take my time to recharge before tackling the 20 mile section leading up to the Shay Mountain aid station at mile 121, the second highest point on the 2021 course after Pole Canyon AS coming up at mile 185. Both Marc and I took our time and I even tried to take a short nap, unsuccessfully. 

As we continued on and finally approached the climb up Shay Mountain, I didn't really know what to expect. Just having completed UTMB 4 weeks earlier, I figured, how bad could this climb really be? Well, I got my answer over the next hour, both before and after the false summit. This climb was both technical and steep, reminding me of a couple of the late grinds at UTMB. Marc and I finally made it to the Shay Mountain aid station round midnight. We decided to try to get some proper sleep up here, he in his crew vehicle and me in one of the tents, before meeting up again to lave the aid station at 4AM sharp. I spent about 45 minutes eating and taking care of somethings before grabbing some warm clothes again from one of my drop bags and crawling into one of the tents for 3 hours. I had asked one of the volunteers to wake me at 3:30AM, so I would have enough time to get dressed, use the bathroom and eat some more before heading out again. Unfortunately, the volunteer somehow forgot about me. Luckily, I woke up on my own 2 minutes before 4AM after getting a full 3 hours of sleep. I scrambled to get out of my sleeping back and back into my running clothes. I had wisely shoved them into the bottom of my sleeping bag to keep them warm and dry them out, an old trick I learned from backpackers. When I finally stumbled out of the tent, I started calling Marc's name into the darkness. The only light was a propane fire pit and a couple of headlamps, not nearly enough light for me to recognize anybody. Since it was already past 4AM, I figured Marc had left. I decided to take my time, to use the bathroom and to refill my bottles and nutrition from my drop bag. The gels at the aid station were frozen. Temps had actually dropped below 30 degrees. I decided to get moving before I could get cold.

As I shuffled through the parking lot just past the aid station lined with crew vehicles, I heard someone shout my name. Marc thankfully was running late as well, so we managed to leave the aid station together just as we has originally planned. I had a pacer ready to join him, but since it was just a couple of ours until daylight, he chose to join his pacer at the next aid station, Dry Valley at mile 140. I was starting to get cold and since it was mostly downhill for the next 20 miles, a light shuffle felt appropriate. Unfortunately, shortly after leaving the aid station, Marc's back seized up and he needed to sit down to try to stretch it out. I, on the other hand, was getting cold quickly, so I made the choice to continue on without Marc in hopes that he would catch up to me like he had before. I also knew that he had a crew and pacer waiting for him at the next aid station, so I felt confident that he would be ok.

The 3 hours of sleep had felt great and as the sun came up, I felt even more energized. By late morning, I finally rolled into the Dry Valley aid station and was excited to see that both Jay and Brian were there to greet me. From this point forward, I would have both crew and a pacer at all times for the remaining 100 miles. They sat me down and handed me an oat milk latte with a nice bowl of quinoa and fresh fruit...and a donut!

At the "entrance" to Jackson's Ladder descent.

From here on out, I had a kick ass crew and pacer. Jay and Brian and above and beyond to keep me moving and in good spirits, and believe me, I didn't always make it easy for them to keep a positive attitude. I owe these guys more than just gratitude and hopefully, I will be able to show them just how thankful I am in the future, either by repaying the favor or by other means. These guys were true rockstars!

Brian was the first to join me as pacer. We had a long stretch of mostly flat and hard packed dirt roads ahead of us. I felt a bit guilty of not running as much as I really wanted to, but the distance I already covered started to show. We had a half marathon to cover to make it to Wind Whistle AS and then on to Road 46, where we would meet up with Jay again for the first time since the Dry Valley AS, more than a marathon since we saw him last. Had I had more energy, I would have loved to run much more than I did. Regardless, my mind was already trying to wrap its head around the highest point of the snow route course that lay ahead, Pole Canyon AS at mile 185 at an elevation of just below 9000 feet. 

Arriving at the bottom of Jackson's Ladder.

I was glad to finally arrive at Road 46 AS. I decided to try to get some sleep before the final big climb of the race. It was still early in the evening, but the sun had gone just before we arrived at Road 46. This was one of the busiest aid stations on the entire course. Lots of crew had set up basecamp here waiting for their runners just ahead of the final climb. That said, there would be one more climb (an unexpected 7 mile road climb to mile 207 as part of the rerouted course), but I didn't know that at the time. Jay had set up a table with food for me when I rolled into Road 46. The plan was to refuel and to lay in the back of the truck as quickly as possible to try to sleep for an hour or so. Unfortunately, all I managed was to lay awake for 90 minutes until I finally gave up. It was now Jay's turn to accompany me as pacer for the next 30 + miles, up and over Pole Canyon through the night and well into the next day.

After picking up my (unexpected and much appreciated) pacer Brian Baraniak at Dry Valley aid station at mile 140.

I don't remember much of the climb up to Pole Canyon AS, but I do know that I did not struggle with the sleepies at all. I was tired, of course, but I wasn't falling asleep on my feet or even sleepwalking. Instead, I dealt with some hallucinations, but even those were few and far between, as I don't even have vivid memories of them as is usually the case. When we finally made it to Pole Canyon AS, it felt amazing to have completed another major milestone of the course. It was somewhere between 1 or 2 AM  when we arrived and we spent about 3-4 hours there, to recharge. The aid station was amazing! There was a full made to order menu with pancakes, veggie dogs, hashbrowns, you name it, they served it up hot and made to order. I ordered twice, before and after I tried tog et another nap in, once again unsuccessful. However, i did learn that just getting off your feet was as important as actually sleeping.

Telling stories while getting my feet retaped at Wind Whistle aid station.

Jay and I finally left the aid station right at sunrise, which treated us to the most spectacular display of fall colors, yet. We enjoyed the first couple of miles of the descent just taking on the amazing views before getting back to work. While this section to the next water stop was a nearly 20 mile descent, I didn't move much faster downhill than uphill. This section had one of the most technical sections of the entire course, boulder like rocks without a clear path for miles and miles beating up your feet even more than they already were. There are a couple of expletive laden video clips of this section floating around Facebook that are actually really funny. I had some choice words for this section myself.

When Jay and I finally made it to the bottom of the descent, we came through a section was was clearly hit hard by somewhat recent wildfires. It is unreal how much devastation a wildfire can cause and how far and unpredictable wildfires cur their paths. The weather was changing and the severe storms that had been forecast started to form. Wind gusts had become severe and we could see snow storms at the higher elevations of the La Sal Mountains. When we arrived at the water stop we crouched down behind the unmanned aid table, grabbed some candy bars and refilled our water bottles before starting the 7 mile road climb to the next aid station. There were only 2 more aid stations to come and I was starting to "smell the barn". I was determined to finish this climb as fast as possible. Using my trekking poles, I actually felt like I was making good time. I caught up to a couple of runners and didn't get passed along the 7 mile stretch. 

Sunrise at 8500 feet just after leaving Pole Canyon aid station.

Jay kept encouraging me and I was actually quite optimistic at this point. But I'm not gonna lie, that wind really sucked. When we finally made it to Brian and the truck, I was happy to grab some food and lay down in the truck for a few minutes to rest my body (and feet, in particular). I was also ready for some fresh clean clothes. Not to be too graphic, but the liner of my shorts was covered in diaper rash ointment, so a fresh pair of shorts and shirt sounded fantastic. By the time I climbed out of the truck to get ready, I was surprised to see Jeff Browning hanging out as he was waiting for one of his coached runners. It was great to catch up with him and I am thankful for the intel he shared with mer regarding the remainder of the course. How did he know the course you ask? Well, he had already finished pacing Mike McKnight, the winner of the Moab 240, to the finish line, so the course was still very fresh on his mind.

It would now be Brian's turn to pace me through the next section before jay would take over again for the final stretch along Porcupine Rim and to the finish. According to Jeff, the next section would be very runnable and as it turned out, it really was. I had my second best stretch of the race right here. In fact, I was moving so fast that Jay never got a chance to get some rest before we meet him again at the final aid station. As a result, Brian would be "stuck" with me all the way to the finish line. 

If the last section was my second strongest of the race, the final stretch was my worst. At least until we had about 4 miles left to the finish. Porcupine Rim all but broke me. I took a short break at the final aid station, but when we started tog et going again, I felt worse than I had in a while. My body felt fine, but my feet were aching and that didn't go away until the last 4 or 5 miles. Brian was a trooper. I bitched and moaned almost the entire time...until we hit a section that finally seemed to lead down towards Moab. This gave me a final boost. I started running the still technical single track and I started to pick up my pace. I even started passing runners as I built more momentum. I kept pushing and finally, we got dumped out onto a paved bike path. We still had about 2.5 miles to go, but I was almost done, almost.

Early section around mile 24.

Brian walked alongside me as my pace slowed to a shuffle once again. I would walk and then run and then walk some more. Thankfully, we made the final turn to the finish just as the storm arrived in town. In fact, as I shuffled the final quarter mile, I was afraid that the finish line arch may just be gone by the time I get there. The wind gusts were severe and rain started to fall. No matter, I was finally done. When I finally crossed the finish line, I was elated to have finished. I had serious doubts early on, but once I made it past that low point, I never looked back. I am thankful to have had some an amazing crew to support me and I should not fail to mention the amazing crew of volunteers and medical personal, Nicole in particular, who went above and beyond what one would or should expect. I will be forever grateful to all of these peeps whom I now consider family. I still have not processed the enormity of this adventure or the impact it's had on me and continued to have, but I needed to write this report before too much time passes. Clearly, enough time has already passed for me to sign up for more ultra adventures next year. 

Last major 7 mile road climb, part of the snow reroute, to Horse Creek aid station around mile 208.

When it was all said and done, it had taken me over 92 hours to cover 240 miles. I slept a total of 4 hours and ate more tortillas than I care to count. This race had it all, challenging weather and challenging terrain ranging from desert to mountains and everything in between. If you've run 100 miles a few times before and maybe wonder whats next, this may be it.

The golden hour just after sunrise during the early stage of our long descent from the Pole Canyon aid station at mile 185.

Utterly exhausted and both ecstatic and speechless crossing the finish line of the Moab 240.

At the finish line with my (unexpected) rockstar crew and pacers Jay Hagan and Brian Baraniak.

Race Report - 2019 Strolling Jim 41.2 Mile

The rolling hills of Tennessee dominate the landscape of this historic ultra marathon.

This race is pretty close to my heart. I ran the Strolling Jim for the first time in my very first year of ultrarunning. The race date actually fell on my 39th birthday, so it was a perfect birthday run. I would run an extra 2.2 miles rather than 1 mile per year, but it's ultrarunning, so distances and measurements are secondary anyway:-)

Running step for step with Dink Taylor, 30+ time finisher of the Strolling Jim. Whom better to tag along with.

I earned a "pink" shirt that first year. Well, actually, pink just happened to be the color for the race shirts that every runner received in their race packet. The Strolling Jim is known for awarding finisher shirts to runners according to their finishing times. Runners taking longer than 7 hours have to settle for the shirts they received in their race packets, sub 7 hour finishers receive a red shirt, sub 6 hour runners receive a blue finisher shirt and sub 5 hour runners receive the coveted gold colored finisher shirt. After my first Jim, I ran the race a couple more times earning a red shirt each time by completing the 41.2 mile distance in under 7 hours. This year, my goal was to complete the race in under 6 hours to finally earn a blue shirt. My last attempt didn't go very well, so I wasn't filled with confidence when I set my goal.

In fact, I was originally scheduled to run a race in North Georgia this weekend, but with a summer busy with work and fun travel ahead, I figured I would be better served by staying closer to home. However, since I needed a long run on Saturday, what better way to do so than to run the Strolling Jim, a 41 year old race run by just about any ultrarunner in the southeast at least once, usually multiple times in their running lives. The Strolling Jim is a rite of passage. While ultrarunners are generally better known for enjoying long distance races on mountainous trails and while the Strolling Jim is a pure road race, its elevation profile alone provides all the challenge a runner desires with its rolling hills that deliver both pain and beautiful views of the countryside.

A typical section of the course, winding country roads through the hills of Tennessee.

Rick was kind enough to let me catch a ride with him up to Wartrace, Tennessee. We wanted to get there an hour ahead of the race start and me choosing to ride with him allowed my all important crew (my awesome wife Anya) to leave home an hour later and sleep a little extra before she'd be chasing me all over the 41.2 mile course for hopefully no more than 6 hours. We arrived as scheduled and picked up our race bibs before returning to Rick's car to get ready for the race.

I really didn't know what to expect from the race, even though my race times from other recent ultras as well as my current training load would suggest that I should be able to break 6 hours. After all, I had come off my 50K PR a couple of months prior to Strolling Jim in 2015, yet I could not manage to come even close to breaking 6 hours. Why would today be any different? Confidence was low. Self talk didn't really stick, either. Rather than dwell on that, I spent my spare time in the days leading up to the race playing with different paces and goal times. I settled for 3 goals, a lofty "A" goal (5:30), a "B" goal (5:45) and a "C" goal (5:59:59).

Failure was not an option. If nothing else, this race would provide ample opportunity to work on my mental game, if I started to falter. The Strolling Jim starting line is always like a family reunion of sorts, a reunion of southeastern ultrarunners. Since all race distances from the 10K to the 41.2 mile would start at the same time at 7AM sharp, I decided to line up in the third row or so as not to get sucked in with the faster runners. I lined up near Dink and DeWayne, which is always a great place to be, both for the stories you'll hear and for the perfect pacing skills both of these guys exhibit. After all, they've managed over 30 finishes at SJ between the two of them, so that shouldn't be surprising. And forger about counting the sub 5 hour gold shirts they accumulated between them...ridiculous!

Lush green Tennessee countryside, enhanced by a consistent Spring rain that lasted for the first 3 hours of the race.

Just under 500 runners took off at 7AM sharp. There were at least 50 runners ahead of us, but it was impossible to tell who was running 10k, 13.1M, 26.2M or 41.2M without seeing their bibs. Either way, it did not matter, my plan was to try to run with Dink for at least the first half of the race. He's consistently run under 6 hours the last couple of years, so if I could keep a steady pace on not blow myself up by the halfway point, then there might be a chance that I stay with Dink and finally get a blue shirt.

Mission accomplished, sub 6 hour blue shirt earned with room to spare.

Right after the start it started to drizzle before turning to a continuous 3 hour rain. The overcast skies coupled with the rain kept us cool, but once the rain stopped, humidity crept up quickly. Thankfully, the sun never broke through, which saved many a runner, including myself. Dink and I ran together for the entire first half of the race, keeping a steady pace that allowed us to chat and stay relaxed. My the halfway point and after the first bigger hills on the course, Dink mentioned that his legs just didn't feel right this day. I had no issues at this point, so when he fell slightly behind around the halfway mark during one of the major climbs, I pulled ahed ever so slightly. I figured he'd catch me on the downhill like he had on every hill prior, but that didn't happen this time. Suddenly, I was running alone. Just like that 500 runners had spread out with only a couple of runners visible on the road ahead and one a couple of steps to be heard behind me.

Post-race pic with my booty, finisher medal, Overall Master winner trophy and RRCA Regional Ultra Champion Masters medal.

My wife Anya had been crewing me about every three miles since the 5 mile mark. I'd swap my hand bottle for a fresh one with a gel or two. I carried SCaps in my shorts along with an ipod touch that I was hoping to utilize for the final 10K push. I continued to feel pretty good and I kept a consistent pace. By the time we hit the infamous "walls" at mile 29, both the temps and humidity level had noticeably risen and I was starting to look for my wife. I had managed to pass a couple of runners leading up to and just after the walls, but I was starting to struggle. I asked my wife to meet me every two rather than every three miles. I needed both the mental boost and a fresh bottle along with a few swigs of cold coconut water to refuel and to keep me going.

The walls are a 2 mile section of very short but steep hills. The are known to break runners in large numbers. This year I barely escaped, but I slowed significantly and I still had 10 miles to go. With 5 miles to go, I asked my wife to meet me every mile until the last 2.2 mile highway shoulder section to the finish.

My wife kept giving me updates on runners ahead to give me the proverbial carrot to chase. I remember her telling me that the runner in 4th pace was just ahead. While I believed that the runner was close, I was sure she got the number of runners ahead wrong. I was certain there were at least 20 runners ahead, but I didn't bring it up or try to confirm with her. I just kept plodding ahead. With 5 K to go, I walked for the first time as I grabbed an extra long sip of coconut water. A quick look over my shoulder and I realized that a runner I had passed in the walls had caught back up to me. Ugh, I really didn't want to get passed with a 5 K to go, so I grabbed my bottle, popped in my earbuds and cranked up AC/DC. Heck yeah, let's do this!... fast forward 2 minutes, I have been unable to control the volume of my ipod touch that wasn't dealing with the rain and humidity all to well. Well, shit!

As I saw my wife in the distance at the 2.2 mile mark and final aid station, I pulled out my earbuds and gave her my bottle as I planned to just go "naked" for the final stretch without bottle or anything else. Not wanting to turn around again to see where my closest competitor was, I asked my wife: "How far back is he?" - "One foot" she responded "one foot". He was literally right behind me. Hahaha, that cracked me up. Here I was trying to be all stealthy and he was right there.

I decided to drop the proverbial hammer right there and then. If this guy was going to beat me, he would have to earn it the hard way. I crossed the highway and took off. I saw another runner ahead in the distance and decided to try to reel him in as something to focus on. Thankfully, he was walking. Yes, I thought, I may actually catch this guy. Then he looked over his shoulder. I know he was thinking the same thing as me "Aw shit"! He took off running and I just tried not to slow. The gap between us never got any smaller. When I finally crossed the finish line with my wife cheering, the clock showed 5 hours 44 minutes. I had finally done it. I had earned a blue shirt.

Pre-race pic with Rick, who let me hitch a ride so my better half could be better rested for the day's crewing duties.

I actually won 5th men overall (my wife was right, as always:-) and I got both the Overall Masters win and the Overall Master RRCA Regional Ultra Championship. To be honest, both of these titles would have gone to Greg Armstrong, who had actually run a double Strolling Jim, starting the first one at 1AM and finishing it 10 minutes before the official race start before running it again with all of us, once again getting a sub 6 hour finish. 82.4 miles with nearly 7000' of vert in less than 12 hours, are you kidding me!!! What a beast!

Not a war, nor a battle, nor a fight, but a skirmish. Friendly contest is probably a better word for what went down today, by skirmish will work, too.

Thanks to Steve and Terri Durbin, the amazing crew of volunteers and, of course, the creator of this event Lazarus Lake aka Gary Cantrell. I cannot wait to come back to see what Zack can do next year. I cannot lie, I would like to see more of the newer breed of speedy elites give this race a go. I have to believe that the prize purse for the course record will lure a couple of them to Wartrace within the next couple of years.

An entertainingly accurate elevation profile.

Race Report - 2018 Cannonball

The "26 minute" overlook.

I had originally tried to sign up for the Big Backyard Ultra put on my Laz of Barkley Marathon's fame. I had just come back from a work trip to the west coast and noticed that only 60 or so runners were signed up. Registration was still open on Ultrasignup so I thought, why not throw my hat in the ring. I'd never done a "Last Man Standing" (LMS) event, so this should be fun. Little did I know that there had been a long application process with some runners selected by lottery and others selected on merit and that more than 1000 runners had applied.

All smiles all day...and half the night.

Needless to say, this guy didn't get selected 4 days out from the event:-) But I was still in need of miles as my work trip and kept my mileage low, so I went back to Ultrasignup and lo and behold, there was an LMS event in Chattanooga the following weekend, the Cannonball just a short 2 hour drive from home. I signed up right away. Maybe I should've read the fine print first. The LMS format was similar but not identical. At the Backyard Ultra, runners line up every hour to run a 4.1 mile loop. The first 12 hours during the day on a moderate trail, the 12 hours during the night on a road out & back. This would continue until only one runner remained and completed a loop.

The final 5 prior to lap 16.

At the Cannonball, 60 or so runners lined up to run a 4.3 mile trail loop with 650 feet of vertical gain at Stringer's Ridge in Chattanooga, Tennessee. They would run this loop every hour until only one runner remained. In addition, race directors reserved the right to reduce the lap time by one minute per loop every hour after the first 5 hours.

I decided to book a cheap hotel room that I split with fellow Huntsvillian Kelly Clary for the night before the race to sleep in as late as possible. We left the hotel in downtown Chattanooga around 7AM to make the short 10 minute drive to Stringer's Ridge, an urban park in the middle of Chattanooga. The parking lot was almost full already, but I managed to find the final spot, perfect for setting up my chair and cooler with supplies as it was only a few steps from the start/finish area.

It was still dark, but it would be light by the time the 8AM start of the first lap rolled around. I had plenty of time to set up and to say hello to the Huntsville peeps that had made the trip up here, Natalie, Jay, Kelly M, and Kelly C. and I, of course. My race plan was easy, run 12 hours/laps and see how I feel. The max I was mentally ready for would be 24 hours/laps for 100 miles, but that mental steadfastness waned over a little during the event.

The course record stood at 64.5 miles, which seemed a little soft to me and I was certain it would go down this year. If I wanted to be part of the group I would have to run 16 laps or until midnight to actually break it and run 68.8 miles. 8AM rolled around and we all took off. My plan was simple, check out the course on the first couple of loops to figure out the best strategy to find a rhythm that would take me around the loop in 55 minutes, allowing me just enough time to drink a bottle of fluids (I would alternate Nuun Electrolytes and Sword Endurance) and eat half of my homemade Banana Dark Chocolate spread tortilla wraps.

I also consumed a Honey Stinger gel after every loop. This strategy worked perfectly, I never bonked and never got dehydrated. In the later hours, I would eat potatoes with salt, potato chips and Oreo cookies to avoid a caloric deficit in the cooler overnight hours.

Most of us ran the first loops with a wind breaker and/or sleeves and gloves. I would keep my gloves and sleeves for the entire duration of the race. Other than that I just wore my Altra racing singlet and my favorite running shorts along with the pair of Altra Lone Peak 4.0 that already took me through the Matterhorn Ultraks, UTMB and the Jungfrau Marathon, all without ever changing the shoes or my CEP merino socks, which are definitely a winning combo for me these days. Not a single blister during my 35 hour adventure at UTMB that included hours of rain and mud.

The first few laps were uneventful as everyone tried to figure out this race. I chatted with Shannon "Sharpie" Sharp and David "DDr Pepper" Dye in between laps as they were always a ways ahead of me on every loop. The smack talk started early, there were comments of peeps already looking tired. After the first few laps, I fell in with ultra runners extraordinaire Nathan Holland and Ryan Meulemans and we spent the next hours together, challenging each other to pace the perfect lap. We actually managed a couple of times. We would use "landmarks" to check our pace. There was the turn, the overlook, the house and the stomp. We always knew when we needed to slow down or pick it up a bit. That and the trail banter made the hour tick by much quicker.

Of course, once major difference between this type of event and a regular ultra is that you either run near your competition or you'll at least see them again every hour at the start. This gives plenty of opportunity for smack talk. Ryan started us off, sharing that he was ready to go for 2 days or longer if needed, which I followed up with a "I already took Monday off from work". We had a lot of fun with it, but I'm sure not everyone within earshot appreciated it:-)

It became clear after a few hours that lots of runners were in it for the long run. When Nathan called it after 12 hours, there were still 13 runners lining up for the next lap. After 16 hours, there were still 5 of us left. When everyone lined up again for lap 17, I said my goodbyes and called it a day. I was completely fine physically, I just had no desire to go out for another lap. It took only 3 more laps to declare a winner, Ryan Meulemans, who laid down a great performance. When it was all said and done, 9 runners tied the current course record and 5 runners broke the course record.

As more runners become aware of this LMS format and event, numbers are only going to get bigger. 100 miles should be doable for someone next year, unless the RD decides to drop the time limit sooner than he did this year.

Thanks to everyone for putting on an excellent event, I had a blast.