Race Report :: San Diego 100

 Short Version :: DNF

Long Version :: Get ready

I hate those words. DNF. I’ve avoided those words for a really long time thinking they hold some kind of stigma of defeat. In a way they do, I guess. But there’s more to a DNF than those three words. No. I didn’t finish the San Diego 100. I didn’t even get halfway. Let me take you back a ways.

I signed up for SD100 just after the New Year. I didn’t have any concrete race plans and I wanted a WS qualifier, and one that might actually prepare me for WS. I could DO Hennepin or Tunnel Hill and there’s nothing wrong with those, but I didn’t feel like they were an adequate representation of what the WS course might hold. I wanted a desert race. A hot race. A “mountain race” of sorts. And SD100 topped the list plus didn’t have a lottery so I could make travel plans etc. That’s the “why”. 

Training ::

I actually did train for this. Unlike some previous races that have been more difficult because of injuries or health stuff, this training cycle was really pretty good. I worked with a coach again which is invaluable for sure. She had a training camp in Phoenix in February where I got a taste of desert running, but it was February and still not super hot, and my lungs were still not super recovered or great, so breathing was still a challenge. We worked on ways to help with that and had a plan in place for SD100. I did hill training which was helpful, weight training and strength training to prepare for the climbs, and some heat training in the sauna leading up to the race. It was scheduled to be VERY cool in comparison to years past, so I actually skipped the last two heat training sessions before leaving town. Lows in the 40s and highs in the low 70s were predicted for the race. I had long runs that were good, I had a great run at Potawatomi, and I was feeling pretty confident, albeit nervous, heading into race week. 

Race Prep :: 

I flew out to San Diego on the Sunday before the race. My sister lives there and would be my crew, and I would get to spend a little time with her after the Southwest Airlines Fiasco of Christmas. I had the race binder prepped with all the crew and racer info, aid station directions and info, passes, important phone numbers, and more. I also had secured two pacers from the area through Facebook posts, and had their info as well. Sean would pace me from Red Tailed Roost (mile 55) to Penny Pines 2 (mile 80) and Jasmin would pace me from there to the finish. Things fell into place, I did some taper runs in the heat of the day for extra heat training even though the temps were supposed to be pretty low. My taper actually felt a little hard. I’m not sure if it was the stress of the two taper weeks because I was busy with work, etc, or if part of it was the traveling to San Diego, but my legs didn’t feel super rested and I just felt a little “blah”. I was definitely nervous. 

About The Race ::

The San Diego 100 is not actually run IN San Diego. It’s run on trails east of the City, by Julian and the like. Much of it is single track or fire roads, and a good portion is run on the PCT. There are several other trails used in the beginning as we climb Middle Peak and Stonewall Peak within the first 12 miles. Then there’s some rolling uphill, a little downhill, lots of rocks, the descent (and subsequent rough ascent) into and out of Noble Canyon, followed by another big climb at mile 70 before a gradual downhill-ish course to the finish, partly through areas previously run. The course is no joke. It boasts about 14,500 feet of elevation gain although that’s disputed by some as actually being more, and this year it was more as the first 4 miles were re-routed due to flooding at the start by Lake Cuyamaca. The re-route was more technical and had more gain than the original course although I don’t know how much more. It’s a beautiful course, run mostly above 5000’ I think, and topping out at just under 7000’. The race has been around for a long time. The race directors are AMAZING, and they have a very well-oiled machine in this race. Everything about it was top-notch.

My Race ::

The night before the race, my sister and I drove to Julian for bib pickup and dinner before staying at a nice AirBnB before the race. Race morning we were up at 3am to get ready and drive to the start to hopefully find good parking. We arrived about 4:20am and got a great parking spot and took a short nap before I had to go check in, use the restroom, and shiver my way to the start line. It was COLD. It wasn’t even 50 degrees, but since I knew it would warm up, I was wearing shorts and a short sleeved top. My pack was full. I had enough fuel and Skratch to get me to mile 21 when I would see Kris for the first time, and my poles would be with me the entire race to help with the climbing and descending. I started with a shell in my pack but I actually would have my sister take it at mile 21 because it was too warm for it. After checking in, we met up with Sean, my first pacer, who was at the start to see us off. It was good to meet him in person. The race started promptly at 6am with a fun countdown and a gorgeous sunrise over Lake Cuyamaca. 

The first 4 miles were mostly a conga line of us on the re-routed course, climbing Middle Peak and descending. I had originally planned to run a lot of the Middle Peak climb, using some of the techniques I had learned back in February at the training camp, but because it was mostly a conga line, I really couldn’t. I hiked the best I could and kept up with the people in front of me, and passed when I could. I ran the downhills and actually was pretty on pace after the first 4 miles dumped us back onto the original course. We made our way to the first aid station at Paso Picacho, (7.5 miles) and I grabbed a PBJ and a few snacks before taking off quickly. On my way out I ate an Awesomesauce Spring Energy. I was ahead of calories at that point and was making good time despite the conga line. 

The next 5 miles were another grind up Stonewall Peak. I had intended to try to run this but it proved more difficult. I’m not a desert runner and the rocky trails are pretty new to me. I found myself side stepping rocks and only running small bits of the climb up. Once we hit the top there was a nice descent that I ran a good portion of, still right around the time I “wanted” to be at. Prior to the race I had given my sister a very rough outline of some A and B goals plus the cutoff times. I knew I likely wouldn’t stick to them but it gave her a starting point for knowing when to head to the aid stations to crew. Coming into the new “Chambers” aid station (I think it was unofficially Stonewall Mine?) I was feeling pretty good but it was definitely warming up. This aid station had been relocated also due to flooding at Lake Cuyamaca, and was still about the same distance, just a new location. I grabbed a rice krispie treat, some fruit, Coke, refilled my Skratch bottles, and grabbed a bag of salt tabs they had because I had put three packs in my crew bag and couldn’t find ANY of them. I was grateful they had packs at the aid station! Especially the orange ones. Those are my favorites. Leaving Chambers/Stonewall, I was feeling pretty good but knew there was a long slow grind up next before the mile 21 Sunrise aid station where I’d see Kris for the first time. The heat was getting worse and the sun hotter. I was grateful for my hat but really wishing I had a long sleeve ANYTHING to help with sun protection. The climb was slower than I anticipated and I found myself also wishing I had done more stair climbing or something to feel stronger. I was drinking and eating pretty well at this point but I knew I was probably still a little behind on the hydration. My hamstrings were feeling the climbing by now and my feet were feeling the rocks.

The section just before Chambers/Stonewall that had been re-routed had a “water crossing” of sorts that was unavoidable. (Until the guy behind me decided to pull a long jump thing out and actually made it!) but we all ended up getting our feel wet. Fully wet. Now, I had a change of shoes. I was wearing my Lone Peaks and had my Olympus as backups for later in the race when I needed more cushion. But I didn’t want to put them on at Sunrise because I knew the climb out of Noble Canyon also had a water crossing or two and I didn’t want both pairs of shoes wet. So I decided not to change them. Another issue I was having about this point in the race was chafing. Now, I had lubed up REALLY good before the race in the ….. lower region …. (IYKYK), but for some reason, the lube was NOT working. I came into Sunrise still close to my “A” goal, but needing the refill, refuel, and prepare for the next section which was also a climb up to Pioneer Mail.

At Sunrise, I used the bathroom, re-lubed, refilled my bottles, ate a couple applesauce packets, some Coke, and some other fruit I think. I had another Spring Energy (Canaberry!) and headed out, not really wanting to keep going. I think at this point I had my sister take my poles out for me so I could use them on the climb up.

Sunrise was the beginning of the mental downfall. I really wasn’t sure I wanted to keep going at Sunrise but I didn’t say anything to my sister. I had to keep going. We were only 21 miles in. So I got out of there and started the next climb. The rocks were killing my feet. The sun was hot. I was hot. I should have put on sunscreen. I used the poles and they were amazing, and helped a LOT on the climb, but mentally I was getting close to a breaking point. I was hurting. I was not loving this anymore. I wasn’t even 25 miles in. I texted Eve, my coach, and told her I was thinking of being done. She basically said NO WAY and to eat some carbs because I was likely low on energy. Which is true because that mental game goes downhill quickly when you’re depleted. So I immediately grabbed a Spring Energy and ate that and sucked some more Skratch down. I texted my sister. I was not wanting to do this AT ALL. 

Now, the reasons I wanted to drop at this point were mostly mental. I just wasn’t sure I actually wanted this that badly. I had a couple heart-to-heart chats with myself about what my goals were for this race. During Tuscobia I had also had these thoughts and had questioned the longer distances being right for me. But I pushed through that one. But did I NEED to push through this one? Did I ACTUALLY really want it? I wasn’t sure at this point. I kept slogging because I was pretty sure I’d be done by the time I got to Pioneer Mail at mile 28. I called and texted my sister and kept texting Eve and they figured out a plan for me at Pioneer apparently. 

I rolled into Pioneer Mail off my A goal but still close-ish to my B goal, but it was only 28 miles in and I was feeling it. And I didn’t want to go back out. My sister was an absolute rock star at this point. With Eve helping via phone, they threw me back together with Coke, fruit, calories, applesauce, and a unicorn hat. I needed to leave that aid station with my third bottle because the next part was Noble Canyon. A sharp descent into the canyon with a no crew aid station at the bottom, and then the brutal climb out of the canyon where they recommend three bottles of water. I barely pulled it together at Pioneer Mail and left before I could change my mind, with the full knowledge that I would likely be done by the bottom of Noble Canyon.

That thought solidified as I dropped into the canyon over the next miles. I ate the fruit we had bagged up, drank through my two bottles on the way down, and felt the sun beating down on my. I apparently DID realize at Pioneer Mail that I was pretty sunburnt, and I applied sunscreen, but it was a little too late. Caveat – I run on the trails in the midwest, shaded by trees and in the forest. I’m not used to desert running out in the complete open and I just didn’t realize it. Amateur mistake for sure. Anyway, the drop into Noble Canyon was brutal. I messaged my sister at one point because I hadn’t seen a marker in a while and thought I was lost. She called me and I found a marker but told her I was moving too slow to make it to the bottom before cutoff. That would be where I stopped. I was overheating and it was not good. My feet hurt but I did still manage to run most of the asphalt road (Pine Creek Road) leading into the aid station at the bottom of the canyon. It was also so steep of a road that I couldn’t have walked if I had wanted to! I had a headache at this point and texted Eve to apologize but I was going to be out at the bottom of the canyon. I was hydrated I thought, but I had a headache and was overheated. I arrived at the canyon and told them I was done. They got me a chair and I explained being overheated, sunburned bad, and not enough time to get back out there. I arrived at that aid station about 25-30 minutes ahead of cutoff, but I needed to sit and take care of myself and by that point, I’d be over. There would be a shuttle to pick me up 15 minutes after the aid station closed, so I just planned to do that.

The aid station workers iced me down, gave me a sponge to cool myself, ice in my hat and buff, and a bag of ice for my core. There was a volunteer there asking questions and determined I wasn’t actually having heat exhaustion or anything, I was just overheated. I drank a lot of Coke and talked with the volunteers a little. There were two other runners there – a guy and a girl – who looked like the were dealing with blisters. I didn’t even want to LOOK at my feel because they hurt so bad I knew they’d be covered in blisters and there was nothing I could do. So anyway, I was done. I’d be alone climbing out of the canyon and in my current state that wasn’t safe, and I didn’t want to risk it. Plus I had like ZERO time on the clock and a HARD, BRUTAL uphill climb for 7.6 miles. 

And then the guy started putting his shoes on. And I asked if he was going back out and he said yes. And so was the girl. And I knew I had to try. I got up and left with them, the volunteers all screaming and cheering as we left. I stayed ahead of them just a bit. The girl and I chatted for just a few, but then she stopped to find a hole-bathroom and I kept going. I lost track of both of them as I climbed, determined, but SO done. About 3/4 mile from the aid station I realized a huge mistake. In all the trying to cool me off and me planning to drop, we had never refilled my water bottles. I was stuck on the hardest climb in the brutal heat, with ONE bottle (the one my sister had filled for me back at Pioneer Mail and stuck in the back of my pack) when I was supposed to have THREE for the climb. My heart sank and I knew this was the end. I’d not make it up the canyon. I had a few sips left in my two bottles in my pack and I conserved them the best I could, the sun beating down on my sunburn which was now REALLY bad. My arms and legs were tomato red, and I had a few swallows of Skratch plus one bottle. I held out as long as I could, knowing that Lyle’s Water Stop was at the 5 mile mark after leaving the bottom of the canyon. This was a water ONLY stop, and a no-drop-aid-station, meaning they would not have food and you couldn’t drop there, but they would have enough water to refill ONE bottle each. Then it was another 2.6 miles to Penny Pines aid station. I just needed to conserve my bottle until Lyle’s, but it was brutal and what if I was so late to Lyle’s that they had packed up already? I’ve experienced that before in a race and I knew I wouldn’t make it the 2.6 without water. So I conserved, getting more and more dehydrated by the minute.

The thing I wasn’t realizing because my brain was in survival mode was that when you’re sunburned that badly, you’re dehydrated even MORE quickly. It was quickly becoming a dangerous situation. I knew I wouldn’t make it to Penny Pines before the cutoff AND it would be getting dark and I didn’t have a light OR a jacket – I was supposed to get those at Meadows, the next crew stop at mile 48.8. Everything in me wished Lyle’s was a drop location. I was so dehydrated. By the time I rolled in, I was more than excited to see they were still there, but quickly broke down into tears because I was in bad shape. Not more than 30 seconds after I stopped moving, I started shaking from being so cold. Laurie, one of the volunteers, wrapped me in her coat and stood me in the sun while giving me freezie pops to help rehydrate me. But I couldn’t stop shaking. At that point, the plan was to wait for the sweeper and then move with them to Penny Pines so I wouldn’t be alone. But I was getting worse – shaking so bad and shivering so bad I couldn’t hold the freezie pop. 

Let me take a second to say how amazing all the volunteers were at this race. SO good. But these guys- Laurie and Nord – they took care of me. They wrapped me up in the blanket their dog had been using that day and shoved me in their truck with the heat on and my water bottle. When she came back to check on me and I was still shaking uncontrollably, we started working on a plan. I really didn’t think I was going to be okay getting to Penny Pines, but I also knew I couldn’t drop here. I didn’t have a jacket anymore in my pack because I had given it back to my sister until evening, and every minute the sweeper didn’t show up, it was another minute my temperature was dropping. Not moving makes it worse, but I didn’t think I could move on my own safely at that point. I know how it gets when I get shivering like that, and it doesn’t stop until I move FAST or change clothes and warm up. I couldn’t do either of those at that point, and I didn’t want to put the sweeper in a tough position also if I started to go downhill further. 

Eventually, the plan was for Laurie and Nord to drive me to Penny Pines after the aid station was packed up, and my sister would meet me there, and I’d turn my bib in and drop. I hated it, but I also knew there was zero way I could continue safely. And if I learned anything at Frozen Otter a couple years back, it’s that I don’t ever want to put volunteers in a tough position. Those guys broke the rules for me (okay, they had permission) and I am so so SO grateful for them. They took such good care of me and I don’t know what I would have done without their help and persistence in working out a plan. My sister drove to Penny Pines to meet me, got in touch with my pacers, and I turned my bib in to end my race. Officially, Penny Pines is mile 43.8 but I stopped at 41.2. I didn’t stop my watch until we officially had a plan and I knew I’d be driven to Penny Pines. 

So. What now?

What Went Wrong ::

I made a lot of mistakes. Most of them were amateur mistakes and all of them are able to be fixed. Being in a much clearer headspace, it’s easier to pick apart my errors.

1. First, I should have brought a third pair of shoes so I could change them out more than once. And I should have changed them earlier to help with the foot pain from the rocks.
2. I should have worn a long sleeved sun shirt and a better hat to protect myself from the sun. That would have gone a long ways as the ultimate reason I dropped was really dehydration due to severe sunburn.
3. I should have put on sunscreen. Duh. This seems so obvious and yet I just wasn’t thinking. Sunscreen EVERYTHING. LOTS.
4. I should have had more lube with me.
5. I should train more on rocks. I wasn’t used to that and my feet were a big reason my mental game went downhill fast.
6. I should have had a jacket or space blanket in my pack no matter what the weather prediction. The desert is unpredictable. 
7. The obvious thing is that my bottles didn’t get refilled at the bottom of the canyon and that was likely my ultimate demise. My mental game had been off, but when I left the canyon I had resolved to get to Penny Pines. I could deal You with the drop decision then, but I had the resolve to get out of the canyon.

What went right?

1. Up until the bottom of the canyon, I was actually doing okay on hydration and fueling. I was eating enough. I was drinking almost enough and making up for it at aid stations. That’s something I’ve struggled with a lot and this race showed improvement. Not there quite yet, but I’m getting there.
2. I climbed well. I ran more downhills than I’ve ever run before, especially on the rocky trails. That’s many thanks to the February training camp and the downhill and climbing practice we did. I learned a TON from that weekend and it helped a lot.
3. My quads are strong. I had zero knee or quad pain on any of the descents, even the steep ones, and I’m happy about that.
4. I didn’t quit when I wanted to. I went to another aid station, and then to another. Not without some prodding, but no one was forcing me to. I continued even though I wanted to quit at mile 21. 
5. My biggest “YAY!” was that I made up time climbing out of Noble Canyon. Had I continued after Lyle’s Water Stop, I would have make it to Penny Pines. I climbed FAST. Not speedy, but faster than I had been. To me, that says my fitness level was pretty strong. It could be stronger. Mountains are hard. And I don’t run them. But for what I was working with, I did pretty well I think. Until the wheels fell off mentally. 
6. The other thing that went well was my breathing. That was a wild card because the dry desert could really have messed up my lungs. But I had my inhaler with me and used it once or twice, and things were good with the asthma. 

Now what? ::

I’m going back. I don’t like unfinished business. Especially when my mistakes can be fixed. I can do this race. But there are steps I’ll need to take. First, I’m waiting on my sun shirt to arrive. I’m on the wait list for Javelina and it’s likely I’ll get in. That will be a good desert race to practice the heat in. Not as much of the climbing, but the heat and desert for sure.

I’m looking at other races out there that would give me desert experience at a smaller distance level – say a 50K or something. I have Black Canyon in Arizona in January (or is it February?) but I’d like another one or two.

The other thing I’d like to do is take advantage of the fact that my sister lives in San Diego. All I need to do is buy a plane ticket and I have a built in hotel and shuttle service. (With payment through chores!) I would love to go out there once a month or so for a long weekend to run parts of the course. Or other trails, but I might as well run parts of the course. I said to my sister on Friday that I wasn’t cut out to be a desert runner, but I think I just need to DO it more to actually find out. I generally handle heat really well, and I think without the sunburn, I would have done fine. 

Now the Fun Part ::

Who to thank. Wow. First, many many thanks (like a thousand) to my sister who is by far the best crew I could ever ask for. Not only is she organized and SO “type A”, but she knows me because she’s my sister. She anticipates how I’m feeling and what I need and she’s pretty much just flat out amazing. She knows when to joke and when to be serious because she can read me like a book. If she could just crew all my races that would be great.

Next, thanks for my pacers, Sean and Jasmin. I know I didn’t get that far, but you guys gave up your weekend to help a stranger, and took the time to chat before the race as well. I hope I get to meet up with both of you in the future for a re-do..

My coach, Eve, is amazing. She’s available so much and can talk me off a ledge. She has so much experience and knows what will help (carbs!) and when to push and then when to back off. You being there via text when I was falling apart was invaluable. 

Eric, MDH, lets me go off on these crazy adventures while he takes care of my birds and the cats, and always has a meme to make me laugh when I need to.

And then the race volunteers and directors. I’ve seen some pretty amazing volunteers in my day (ahem, IT100) and these guys were right up there. They were helpful, generous, encouraging, put me back together, and sent me off. The aid station spreads were AMAZING and the entire race was SO well-run. Everything flowed so smoothly. And Laurie and Nord – you guys are epic. I can’t wait to BLOW BY YOU next year when I get back out there. No just kidding, I’ll stop and give you big sweaty hugs because you are the volunteers that make this whole race amazing. Selfless and amazing. And your dog is adorable. So thanks!

I’ll be back. I’m not finished with you, SD100. I have a score to settle and I’m out for blood next year. I’m determined to do what I need to do. And I’ll remember to fill my bottles at the bottom of the canyon, too. That will help.

Cheers!