Javelina Jundred 2009 - A 100 Dreams Come True, One Mile At A Time

It was about lap 5 that I finally realized that I was going to actually run the whole race. In the past, my 100 mile races have been running in the beginning and then a lot of walking at the end. I can hardly believe it, it was so magical. I though about how that was such a miracle and believed that somehow God was helping me. I knew that my friends were praying for me.

Rewind to 2006; in my previous try at Javelina, I DNF'd at mile 67 due to dehydration. It was my first 100 and I promised to redeem myself. To those of you that didn't finish this race; don't despair, your time will come and it will be glorious.

In the time since that first 100 mile race, I've DNF'd a few more 100 milers; but also completed a few. But none of them have been like this one. This is that ONE special race I will remember for as long as I live. As those of you that run 100 milers know, so many things can go wrong during a race. This was one race where EVERYTHING came together. It was so magical.

I didn't feel that my fitness was top-notch going into the race, but I knew I was mentally ready for the challenge. My weekly mileage was on the low side, and I hadn't really put in mega long runs. I was also about 8 pounds heavier than in the past. On top of that, I was without pacer and crew.

I had a plan going in. I was looking for 3 hour laps for the first three, then 3 and a half hour loops for 4, 5, and 6. And about two hours and change for the seventh and shorter loop. That adds up to about 21 hours and 30 minutes; and my goal was 22 hours.

The race started with me and my buddy LT (Lambert Timmermans) running together along with a pack of three others. The five of us made good time until about 7 miles in when Lambert took off. I kept to my pace and the four of us ran together for a while longer. I completed lap one in about 2 hours and 30 minutes. I thought, "whoa, that was too fast;" but was glad that I banked some cushion time. I felt good. I was counting the people in front of me as they reversed directions on the second "washing machine" lap. I was in about 30th place.

On the second lap, I didn't change anything other than taking a 1 minute walking break every mile.

I used to be really scientific with electrolyte and water balance, but now I just taste my sweat to see if I needed salt. If it tastes slightly salty, I take 1 caplet; if it tastes not salty at all, I take two or three caplets. I've also learned to gauge water intake; specifically the frequency and amount. I sipped often, but never gulped. From experience, I drink just enough to coat my stomach lining and not let it slosh around. It helps to reduce bloating. It works for me, for you, it may be different; experiment until you find your sweet spot. My second lap was about 3 hours, right on.

It was now mid-day and the desert was heating up. I had some slight discomfort in my stomach. My friend Janet told me to slow down so my stomach can digest and recover in the heat. I listened to her. I had just completed a 50k in 5 hours and 30 minutes, not too bad in itself. As I started the third loop, I thought, "I can use up the banked time on this lap and then just keep the same 3 hour 30 minute per lap pace until the end. That strategy turned out well.

I would continue to take regular walking breaks. I would count my paces and looked forward to the completion of every mile when I can get a break. Towards the end I was talking a walking break every half mile on the uphills. All the walking was planned and occurred like clock work. Never once did I have to walk because I was too tired to run. Or, put it another way, I felt like I could have kept running the whole time.

I was catching up to the people in front of me at the end of lap three. I knew I didn't speed up, they had slowed down more than I.

As I started lap four, my stomach was feeling good again. Also, my leg felt better too. I resisted the urge to speed up, as I knew I was on pace. I just kept my mental discipline to run my race.

Also, I had been practicing quick-in-quick-out at the aid stations. I thought about what I needed before I got to the aid stations. When I got there, I got what I needed and then got out. I knew I passed quite a few people like this.

Lap four went by just like lap three, in almost the same lap time. It was now dark and I had complete a 100k. I saw and passed some early leaders who dropped back. Some of them were my friends and I felt bad for them. They were having a bad day and I knew exactly how they felt, as I have had my share of those bad days.

Lap five went by just like lap four, a little slower but not that much slower. I just kept going, one mile at a time. Run a mile, walk a minute; repeat. My friends said I seemed so focused that I appeared to ignore them out on the trail as we passed. I apologize to all, as I was just so into my mental zone.

On this lap I made a special mental note as I passed the point at which I stopped in my last attempt at Javelina. I knew I was having a good race. Up to this point, I had no issues at all. No low points, just consistent rock solid pace. I felt like I should be walking, but I had no reasons to walk. I felt so not-myself, but in a good way. I asked myself, "how can I still be running?" I didn't really believe that I could still be running. Does that sound weird, or what?

I didn't see even more of the early leaders, I knew they had dropped out as well. The 50% attrition rate applies at the front too.

Lap six came and went just like lap five, but a little slower yet. I was still running. However, I was glad to not have to see some of those trails again, save for the last 5 mile of climbing on lap seven. On this lap, I was actually playing cat and mouse with a fellow competitor, which provided some welcomed distraction from the mental monotony. I had passed him on the climb and he caught back up. Then I would run and pass him, but he would catch me as I took my walking breaks. Once, just as he caught up to me, I begun to run and it seemed like I was purposely trying to counter attack his attack. However, it just happened that my walking break ended as he caught me. He was vocal as I can hear him behind me saying stuff that could of got to me. I didn't let it; but it was annoying. I just kept running my race. He finally passed me on the downhill part of lap six. He was a faster downhill runner.

I stopped to take a potty break. I can feel my legs stiffen up as I stopped and tried to get going again. But, it was not too bad.

I was really excited to start lap seven. Wearing that glowing ring around my neck felt like a badge of honor. They gave lap seven runners a special marking so that aid station personnel could properly direct the runners onto lap seven's special trail.

I never got cold because I was running the whole way. However, I still carried a long sleeved shirt with me.

At this point, I had completed 90 miles. However, I knew that a lot can still happen in 10 miles. My wheels can still fall off. After all, it was still another two whole hours until my anticipated finish.

I had no issues on the final climb; I slowed a little, but still running. When I got to the final aid station, I knew I had made it. It was now 5 miles and all downhill. I spent almost zero time at the aid station, because I had reserved extra water and food on my previous stop.

I started looking at my watch and gauged my pace to see if I would make it under 22 hours. I pushed my pace for three miles and it appeared that I would not make it.

Then, just as I had decided to pull back, the trail steepened and I was flying down with the aid of gravity. I was making up major time. I hit the final left turn towards the finish with about a mile to go and 10 minutes remaining. I stepped on the gas and floored it. Now, it was speed with all abandon. No more pacing. No more saving my energy. I ran like there was no tomorrow. I got to the road crossing and knew I had another 0.3 miles. I didn't dare to look at the watch, I just put my head down and started sprinting. It was like doing a 400m speed workout. I crossed the line at 21 hours, 59 minutes, and 17 seconds, over-joyed and in an euphoric state.

What a way to run a 100 miler! That's the way to finish.

I wish for all to experience what I experienced. It was magical, and supremely confidence boosting. 100 mile ultras are always hard; but when it all comes together, there is nothing I would trade for it in this world. I made my goal of 22 hours, and got 15th place out of 250. Not too bad for a comeback from DNF.

Until the next Ultraholic adventure, happy trails.