2021 Umstead 100

Driving into WIlliam B. Umstead park each year, my heart rate increases a little and I get this nervous-in-my-belly-feeling of knowing the enormity of what I’m about to undertake. The doubt that I’ve ignored and pushed away slowly begins to creep in and I realize the excitement maybe isn’t excitement at all but rather a small amount of anxiety from wondering if I’ve done enough training and if I’ll let people down if I don’t finish and what that means for the rest of my running goals for the year and it begins to spiral and I think about the bigger picture of a decade long project and what not finishing would mean.

The Umstead after my “breakthrough race” in 2019 was going to be challenging whether it was last year (cancelled) or this year. The expectation and history at the race is impossible to ignore and the comparison game was in play early on.

18:47, 20:12, 18:26, 20:25, 18:28, 16:34

Those are the times I have run at Umstead each year from 2014 through 2019. Those times loomed large heading into the weekend. Particularly the last one. The one I refer to as a same day finish because I FINALLY finished before midnight on the day the race started. Standing on the starting line I felt an immense pressure to improve on my history of success at Umstead. Even though I know each year is independent. Each Umstead is a unique day with uncontrollables including weather, training build up, and the craziness of life that make those times just numbers on paper. Despite knowing all those things and repeatedly telling myself that today was a unique day that I am lucky to get to go out and do this, it was hard to disconnect and ignore the history that comes with repeating a race year-after-year. The 2021 Umstead 100 (AKA Umstead 2020 - Take 2) broke me mentally at mile 32 and I found myself staring down the barrel of a 68 mile walk in the park, wondering if I had the will and drive to see it through. Here is how it went down.

I took Friday before the race off as usual and used the day to run a few last minute errands including picking up Panera bagels (my usual Umstead morning breakfast) and coffee for Michelle to have over the weekend and packed the car with all the gear for the weekend. Packing the car included loading a canopy (a first and only for Umstead - a nice gesture by the park due to COVID restrictions closing race HQ to only medically distressed runners), table, chairs, and my bin of ziplock bags labeled with shorts, shirts, socks, etc. that had everything one needs to survive a weekend walk in the park.

I swung Jordan’s to pick him up and after loading up his stuff we headed south on 81 toward Raleigh for our annual weekend spent at Umstead park. Pretty early on in our drive (before we got to 81 I think) Jordan asked if I was feeling excited and I couldn’t find the energy to muster a convincing or enthusiastic “yeah” so instead I responded by explaining how I think about each year of Umstead being a unique set of circumstances. Like how 2014 was the my first year at the race and not knowing what to expect or if I could complete it. And how 2015-2017 were the party years where we had a crew of runners often with a 3:1 ratio of crew to runners and how 2018 was the cold year that it snowed at the finish line.  And how 2019 was the year that Lydia was born two and half weeks before race day and being at the race as a new dad away from Lydia for the first time and then how this year was 2020 take two and the COVID year. I think my response to Jordan’s question about being excited said a lot about where I was at mentally heading into the weekend and how I’ve been thinking about racing in a pandemic since we found out in February that the race was on once a permit was secured.

The drive to Raleigh was uneventful minus the usual craziness around Winston-Salem and Greensboro. On our way to the park we swung by REI for curbside pickup of a replacement headlamp and hit Jimmy Johns for dinner since the usual pre-race pasta dinner was cancelled because of COVID. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful. I pinned on my bib (#9), organized the car, and set up the canopy over the car for Jordan crewing on Saturday. I went to bed around 9PM and awoke a couple hours later in a puddle of sweat. I had brought my cold weather sleeping bag but the overnight temperatures were in the 50s and my sleeping bag was way too warm. I managed to get a few hours of rest and awoke to the normal race day early alarm at 3AM. Usually, in a non-COVID race year, I wake up and make my way to the bath house to shower and then to race headquarters (HQ) lodge to eat breakfast inside. Having breakfast at race HQ is always a nice peaceful way to start the morning and usually I’m the only in there with the exception of one or two volunteers who are getting coffee started for the runners. Due to COVID precautions, race HQ was closed this year and so I mixed up my morning routine a bit and curled up in the back of the Subaru and ate my Panera bagel and banana and had a cup of coffee from the thermos I had packed on Friday. After eating breakfast, I headed to the bathhouse to shower and get dressed for the race. I like showering the morning of the race because it helps me wake up and I think showering helps remove dust and dirt on my feet from walking around the camp on Friday. It’s a nice perk of doing a race where there’s a camp at the start. 

After getting all geared up, I made my way back to the car where I found Jordan. I filled my bottles and my Naked belt with gels and hung out for a few minutes before heading up to the race start about 10 minutes before the 6AM start. The race start this year was a time trial style start with one runner leaving every five seconds by seed number. As bib number 9, I found my way to the starting shoot and waited for my time to go. It was certainly a different feeling than in previous years where there’s a single group heading off into the dark as a sea of headlamps. I removed my mask about 50 meters after the start and headed out toward the airport spur on lap 1 of 8 for the day. 

The airport spur is a roughly 1 mile out-and-back that runners complete only on the outbound portion of each lap and over the years I have developed a deep dislike for the cone in the middle of the road that marks the turn around. I count each lap telling myself I only have to see the stupid cone 7 (6, 5, etc) more times.

Fairly early into the lap, I found myself with two other runners both running their first Umstead, Phil and Brendan. We ran together for a good portion of the first lap and talked about other races we had done and how excited we were to be racing again. Brendan had crewed at Umstead before and completed his first 100 at Grindstone in 2019 (the year I dropped) and Phil had run some pretty tough East Coast 100s including Eastern States. Brendan was a new dad to a 4 month old. I had coincidently told his wife on the course (before he and I were running together) that she was the real rockstar today and to not let anyone tell her differently as she was wearing their daughter and up early supporting and cheering him on. As we approached AS 1 and turned off our headlamps, I told them there would not be a second sunrise (words I wondered later whether I’d be eating). In previous Umstead races, I’ve had stomach issues with the water from the park (which is used at the aid stations) and Rhonda suggested if it was possible for runners to carry their own water and not rely on aid station water (because the park water was turned off - again due COVID precautions) to do so. I carried two soft flasks for every lap except for lap one (and wished I had two on that lap) and passed through the aid station thanking the volunteers for being out but not needing anything early in the race. Around mile 10 I ate a couple gels and finished the lap in 1:41:54, almost exactly the same as 1:41:00 in 2019.

A quick shirt change, a few gels in my belt, and the first of many lemon lime spicies of the day and I was back out on lap two. Lap two was uneventful.

Early in lap 2

Heading into Aid Station 2

I hit the halfway AS (mile 19.35) in 2:41:58 elapsed compared to 2:36:29 in 2019 and finished the lap at 3:31:05, 8 minutes slower than 3:23:33 in 2019. I was aware of the times I had hit in 2019 and although they crossed my mind each time I went over the timing mat it wasn’t like it was causing me to stress or be frustrated that I was running slower. I didn’t feel as if I was chasing those times but rather was using them as a gage of what the day was going to look like and I think this is where the comparison game got me in trouble. 

The realization that I was two laps in with 6 to go and that I would need to keep putting out the effort I had over the first two laps for 6 more to be in the same ballpark finishing time as 2019 planted a feeling of uncertainty. I kept the aid station with Jordan brief as he filled my bottles and I put a few more gels in my belt and headed out onto lap 3. Up until this point in the race, the weather had been overcast and the humidity was high. Everyone was soaked and I was drinking a lot more water than normal, about two bottles a lap (1 liter total) plus a 12oz spicy and hadn’t peed once. 

It was on lap three that I spotted the first of many college teams in the park getting their long runs in while being in town for Raleigh Relays. Over the years, I’ve seen Virginia Tech out there a few times and although I missed them this year (Jordan found them and shared some miles with them while I was on lap three) it’s neat for them to see a different side of the sport other than going really fast. I came through the halfway AS (31.85) at 4:36 (2019 was 4:23) and it was about 1000ft after the AS where everything came to a screeching halt. The pressure of my success in 2019 and the comparison trap of knowing my splits for each lap felt like too much to handle and I told myself I just needed to walk. I knew what 5.5 more laps meant and the effort required to keep up the pace I had run for the first 2.5 laps and just needed to not feel that pressure for a little bit. I think the self sabotage here was that knowing if I walked...I wouldn’t be comparing my times from 2019 because those times would go out the window and I’d focus on the day. Jordan ran by me as he completed his training miles for the day and told me he’d see me back at the AS not knowing how dark of a place I was in right as he had come upon me. 

Even though the race was only a few days ago, I feel like I remember walking more of this lap than I actually did. Something I hadn’t noticed until writing this race report was that my first half/second half lap splits, 6.85 miles and 5.65 miles respectively, for lap 3 were 1:05/1:05 for a 2:10 lap (compared to 1:00/55:00 in 2019). After having a few days to process the race, had I known those times were that close given the conditions of the morning (specifically the brutal humidity) I think I would've been inclined to keep my foot on the gas pedal but in the moment it felt like the rope was slipping through my hands and no matter how hard I tried to hold on I wasn’t going to be able to hold it. As I came up the hill from the timing mat at the end of lap 3, I found Phil sitting in his chair and asked him how he was doing. He let me know he was dropping. I tried to convince him to walk one more lap and get the 50 finish but he had made up his mind. It’s funny that I was trying to convince him to keep going when I had already in my head prepared myself to tell Jordan that I wasn’t sure I wanted to go beyond 50 today.

I walked into our crew spot and told Jordan I needed to re-evaluate. I sat down for the first time of the day and told him I was considering dropping after the next lap and taking the 50 finish. He did a great job of not pushing too hard but conveying that he knew I could do it and that we’d talk after the next lap and even told me that if I wanted he’d join for lap 5 after I finished lap 4. I walked out of the aid station spicy in hand and just let myself walk. First to the airport spur cone. Then to mile 2. Then mile 3. And I just kept walking. At this point, the sun had finally burnt off the fog and for the first time all day conditions were both humid and hot. Before mile 4, Aaron Saft caught up to me and walked with me for a bit. I told him I was struggling with the idea of walking for another 20+ hours and that I wasn’t sure I was up to the challenge. We talked about life and kids and his experience at UTMB and his outlook for the day which included not dropping the hammer and just taking the day as it comes one lap at a time (he went on to finish in 19:13 and 7th overall). Aaron doesn’t know it but him stopping to talk with me for a bit changed my entire mindset for the race and helped me get back into a positive headspace. After walking together for a bit he began running and I kept walking but now in a much more positive mood about wanting to continue. A few minutes later Chris and Ronnie came by and I made a joke about smelling something bad (their shirts were hilarious with each shirt pointing to the other person and said "He farted") and we started up a conversation as we walked our way to the halfway aid station. I came through the halfway aid station at 7:38 elapsed on the race clock taking nearly two hours to complete the first 6.85 miles of the lap. Jordan thought that the timing mat had missed me and that’d I’d be coming in soon to HQ only to get the notification on his phone that I walked the entire way to the aid station. When I arrived at the halfway aid station with Chris and Ronnie, I asked for a veggie burger with cheese, ketchup, and mustard and a big cup of soda to wash it down. In all of my previous runs at Umstead, I’ve never been able to eat solid food during the race. I simply can’t get it down and usually my attempt to eat something solid results in me projectile vomiting all of my fluids/gels I have managed to get down. Apparently, all I had to do was walk and I’d be able to eat all the solid food I wanted. The burger was everything I had dreamed about for the past 5 miles and after it had a little time to settle I felt a bit better and ran some of the second half of the lap. 

I came into HQ with a new determination to finish. I knew it wasn’t going to be fast or pretty but I wanted to get it done (a feeling that would leave again during lap 6 and I’d have to reason through for a second time in the race whether I really wanted to walk for another 7+ hours). I crossed the timing mat completing lap 4 (of 8) and hitting the 50 mile mark in 8:50 (about an hour and a half behind 2019) but I knew it was still faster than my first year at Umstead and if I rebounded and found legs to run in the second half I could still salvage the day (something that never happened). Jordan asked if I wanted company and I told him no and ate a couple freezer pops and changed before heading out onto lap 5. Jordan let me know as I was changing that I would probably get wet on the lap as storms were going to roll in and I responded with a “bring it” hoping it would cool things down.

I walked out of camp spicy in hand and high on sugar from the freezer pops and headed toward the airport spur. This was the first of many falling asleep walking miles of the day. I think I had a sugar crash from the freezer pops and stumbled for the next couple miles trying to keep my eyes open as I walked my way toward the halfway AS. Music wasn’t doing much to keep me awake and the miles were going by SLOWLY. Eventually, I snapped out of it and did some power walking telling myself that 24 hours was only 14 minute miles. As I approached the AS there was lightning off in the distance and I told myself get through the open exposed aid station fast and duck back into the woods. I got another veggie burger at the halfway AS because WHY NOT?!? and I felt the need to make up for 6 years of not being able to eat solid food and finished it just as the rain began. At this point, I was running with a first time 100 miler and he turned to me and said “I think we’re going to get wet” and I gave the same “bring it” reply to which he said..”I agree but I wish I had a shirt.” 

And then it began. Sideways rain, torrential downpour, hail back at the HQ aid station. We were soaked and it did cool things down for a bit but then the humidity was right back where it was earlier in the day. 

I came into HQ to complete lap 5 at 11:53 elapsed (almost 6PM) and debated whether I should change shoes and socks as the rain had stopped for a bit. I decided to change both and put on a dry top as well. It was at this point in the race that I put on the vest (a first at Umstead?!?) and told Jordan to throw a poncho in my pack and knowing that it was going to get dark on this lap I also had him throw in my headlamp. At this point, I started doing the math and told him it was probably going to be another 9 hours. It took him a minute to process that I STILL had three laps to go. As I left  camp it began pouring again and my nice dry shoes and socks were soaked within minutes of changing them.

Lap 6 was another low point in the race. You know it’s a long day when you have two low points in the race and debate continuing for a second time. At this point, my laps were taking between 3-3.5 hours and I was debating whether I really wanted to walk for another 7+ hours. I was also battling sleepiness again after eating a couple slices of pizza at the HQ aid station and with the sun set and the course fully dark I was walking and falling asleep toward the ditch at the side of the road. This is pretty typical for me in a long ultra (Hellgate, Pinhoti, Umstead) and really makes me question my decision making. As I did the numbers in my head of what time I would arrive back at HQ for each lap I thought that sub-24 hours was still in reach and I’d finish between 22-23 hours planning to be back before 10 to begin lap 7, and 1:30AM to begin the final lap 8. I had to reason that if I dropped at 75 I’d be deciding not to continue for another 7+ hours and instead have to do another Umstead 18+ hours to get 10 total finishes. After reasoning through my options I decided that even if I walked it was better to just keep going and finish the day.

I don’t really remember much of lap 7. I think the aid station workers knew how I was feeling before I even opened my mouth and they told me to keep my head up and to just keep moving forward. I do recall how it felt being on the other side of the coin with folks running by you and having the brief exchange of “last lap? Yes! Get it!” It was humbling to be on the other side and not doing the passing as runners and pacers approached quickly and gave a word of encouragement before disappearing off into the dark again. I did have lots of folks tell me that my power walking was faster than their running and to keep up the great fast walking pace.

When I came into HQ to finish lap 7, Jordan asked if I wanted company for the last lap. I told him if he had a burning desire for a long walk then his company was welcome. In years past, I’ve had headphones in and it’s been mission focus to get to the finish which didn't leave much opportunity for conversation. This time, I left my headphones in the car and welcomed the company after having been solo for most of the day. We power walked and talked about being dads. We talked about Lydia and Kirby’s favorite books and foods. We talked about a fish sign that’s on a bridge a little after mile 4 that despite having walked past 56 times in seven years at Umstead, I had failed to notice. It didn’t feel fast because it wasn’t. But the miles were exactly what I needed to end the day on a positive note. Jordan got a burger at the aid station and I grabbed a cup of “cola” with ice and we headed out of the aid station for the last time. We finished the first half of the lap in 2:07 and the second half in 1:30. Significantly slower than the 1:16/1:05 last lap from 2019.

As we turned off the main road and headed back into camp, I asked Jordan to run ahead and get a photo of the finish. I managed a poor excuse for a run but I'm pretty sure both feet were in the air at the same time so it counts. I BARELY ran up the final hill and crossed the finish line in a time of 22:46:50. Coming across the finish line I felt the weight of the day lifted. Despite it being a 68 mile death march I was proud of having the mental fortitude to get through two low points where I considered calling it quits. A few minutes after I finished it began POURING again and I mean torrential downpour. Jordan was kind enough to go get my finish line bag so I could shower and get warm dry clothes on. After I showered, we headed to the cabin for a couple hours of sleep. Not the full nights sleep you get when you finish before 11PM on the same day but it was sleep. Waking up on Sunday morning, I was so glad to have finished the race and have finish number seven under my belt. Three more to go for 1000 miles! A note about my crew:

Jordan has been at 6 of my seven Umstead races and crewed me for 7 of my 9 100 mile finishes. I cannot think of a more giving, caring, and encouraging person to have in my corner. His positive attitude is contagious and despite being a soul-crushing trail-eating monster he showed me patience and grace on Saturday and Sunday morning when I was searching to find the drive to finish. Thank you friend.

Umstead is a special place and a special race. On paper it looks easy. And there were several runners on Saturday who made it look VERY easy. The numbers from Saturday tell a different story. The conditions were hard on the field and finishing rate. With a time of 22:46:50, I placed 19th overall. 9 runners went under 20 hours compared to 22 runners sub-20 in 2019. My time in 2019 would've placed me 49th overall. By my count, there were only 76 100 mile finishers on Saturday/Sunday, one of if not the lowest number of finishers in all the years I've been at Umstead...and there have been some challenging weather years.

Thank you Rhonda, Chris, and the entire Umstead 100 board and volunteer group. I've said it many times and intend to hold my promise of 10 finishes and 10 years volunteering. I'm just glad I'm one year closer to volunteering after this weekend.

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