Race Report: 2015 Chimera 100 - True Grit

Disclaimer: This one will be longer (as if they already aren't long enough).

I often get asked the giant and ambiguous question "What is it like to run 100 miles?"
This is an impossible question to answer. There are just too many ways and variations to answer that question. The best I can come up with is this : Running an ultra is very similar to preparing for a fight. Now a fight with whom or what is dependent on each person. It could be a fight to win against the competition, a fight with oneself, or a fight with the figurative course itself. You prepare months in advance and the outcomes are very decisive just like fighting...you either win or you lose....no gray area.
Just a little prelude to my introduction to "the beast". This was the end of a pretty exhausting season. This would be my 3rd 100 for the year. The most mileage I got in a week was about 90 miles...less than ideal in my mind. I then proceeded to catch a nasty stomach/intestinal flu along with a cold the week before the race. I think I ran 9 miles that entire week. I looked at the positive side and said that all my nagging injuries would heal up and I would do a little reverse taper. Easy peezy! That being said, these mountains were my backyard...what harm could they do?
The course is aptly named "Chimera" for a few reasons. According to Greek mythos the Chimera is a three headed creature composed of a lion, goat, and snake.  Each creature is chronologically oriented on the animal itself ie: The lion's head is first, the goat's second, and the snake's is third. The course itself is composed of three loops through the Saddleback Mountains in Southern California that circle back to Camp Bluejay. The course boasts about 23k of vertical gain and is surprisingly pretty technical.
Lets get started shall we?

San Juan Trail Mile 11ish  Photo: Ulysses Chan

Once again my lovely girlfriend Andrea Quant took the time out of her busy schedule to crew me. I knew a lot of people that I have raced and run with that were doing this race. So we chatted a little bit in the morning and then Steve Harvey (the RD) sent us off!
The strategy for this race was to go out relatively reserved, but since I knew the course really well (or so I thought so). I bombed down San Juan trail for 12 miles easily, just letting gravity do the work. I ran this section with my friend and 3rd place finisher Jerry and eventual winner Mark. Jerry and I chatted and caught up on the happenings of the local running scene in SoCal, whereas Mark just silently ran with us.

Jerry,Mark, and I starting the notorious San Juan switchbacks Photo: Ulysses Chan

For this race I decided to switch it up with my vest and nutrition selection. I used a Salomon vest with Carbopro Hydra C5. Well I can honestly say that was a terrible decision on the nutrition side. When we arrived at the first aid station the Carbopro powder literally causes the mix to be about 60% foam. I had experimented with this in training, but I had no idea it would get this bad. So at the first aid station I realized I had a BIG problem right at the beginning. I resigned to just gels and water until later in the race where they had Tailwind Nutrition (which I never should have strayed from!). Well after going down San Juan trail in the beautiful morning on fast semi-technical single-track, we had to climb up. The climb was not bad at all and I mixed up some power hiking with some jogging while making my way back to Bluejay round 1. When I made it there I was surprised to see my Dad, Stepmom, and Andrea already there.

Not a better way to start the morning then bombing down San Juan trail! Photo: Ulysses Chan

I will make a little detour for a second...let me ask you (the reader something)...who is a bigger hero: Alfred or Batman? Now I know I'm just finding an excuse to compare myself to my favorite hero, but I really feel Alfred is responsible for almost all the success Batman experiences in crimefighting. He stitches him up, nurses him to health, provides valuable advice, and covers for him. Without Alfred Batman probably would die. I felt like Andrea and I were a well oiled machine just like Alfred and Batman. She knows how I am feeling and what I need to do without me saying a word. I took some pictures with everyone and Andrea sent me back out into the wilderness.

 Chiquita loop (Candystore) Photo: Ulysses Chan

Now that I had conquered the first loop (the lion), it was now time for the goat! This part caught me off guard. Basically it was a loop down to the Los Pinos' Candystore and back to Bluejay. I had ran this numerous times before and felt it wouldn't be that bad. At this point we were about at 28ish miles. It started getting pretty hot and it was super dry. I started guzzling down a lot of water. I also started getting a headache at this point. I started getting worried about hyponatremia, as I had no salt pills. The trail was in worse condition than I had remembered. It was a straight up punishing mixture made up of rockgardens and slippery sandstone with a nice little valley section underneath the canopy of oaks. All this did not really bother me as much as the dryness. Once I got to the aid station I got passed and I was now in 4th. I ate some oranges, drank some Coke, and took some salt pills. I proceeded going back up to Bluejay knowing this climb would be rough. Sure enough it was. My good friend and amazing runner Matt Kafka, who was running the race, said hi to me and we both lamented that we wanted nightfall to come as quickly as possible.
I managed to crawl back up to Bluejay while getting passed again. Now I was in 5th place...no worries...we still had about 60+ miles to go.

Feelin' it coming out of the Candystore loop Photo: Ulysses Chan

I came into Bluejay part 2 (mile 46) feeling worse for wear. I knew I looked depleted. I felt depleted, probably accelerated by the flu that ravaged me the week before. I felt thinner and weaker. Luckily at this point the weather started getting colder. Andrea and my parents were there again. I could tell I looked and felt a little crappy and I think they picked up on it. Andrea still brought my spirits up with her energy. Honestly the aid stations were such a blur. I didn't feel like typical self...I felt weird. Kinda like this mentality " I know I'm not gonna quit....but this is gonna hurt like shit when all is said and done!"

Changing layers with the crew, getting ready for the night!

Next up was the dreaded Trabuco climb. A little blip on the elevation profile, but I knew full well that Trabuco is steep and very annoying. I proceeded to just power hike up it, knowing a long  nice technical downhill awaited me. I got to the Trabuco aid station where there was lovely bunch of warmhearted volunteers there. They were awesome! They said " we'll see you at mile 98!" That made me feel pretty good. I proceeded to just hammer down Trabuco trail. I love going down this trail (except at night...Matt). The trail is fast, technical, scenic, cold, and uncontrollable. You just gotta go for it.
Now this is where the race started to derail for me. I came in to the Holy Jim parking lot and saw no person or arrow pointing to the aid station. I did see an arrow pointing to go up to Holy Jim so I thought they might have hiked an aid station up near the trailhead. Well I ran about 2 miles before seeing no aid station. So I doubled  back (you gotta check in) to the parking lot where I saw a volunteer pointing to the aid station down the road. I saw that the arrow pointing to the aid station was wiped away by all the offroad traffic going through there as well. Just a bad circumstance. When I came to the aid station the legendary Nikki Kimball was leaving. Not gonna lie...I was pissed, not at Nikki...just at the circumstance. We both got to know each other while we climbed up Holy Jim. Holy Jim is a massive climb, but not tiring. Nikki told me not to let the whole aid station get to me. After a while I let it go. I got passed at Bear Springs by a Portlander named Travis. We proceeded to climb as a group up to the Bear Springs Aid station. At this point I started feeling it a little bit.
I fell back a little bit to keep my sanity as Nikki and Travis were putting in some good work. At the top of Santiago peak this is what probably cost me a sub 24 finish. There were no directions...no signs...nothing.
I knew the elevation profile by heart which I remember seeing that we had to go to Maple Springs...but there was some weird out and back with Modjeska peak. Now with 65 ish miles on your legs while not feeling good....in the wind...on top of a mountain....with no one around. It got extremely confusing. I looked around for a little and proceeded down Maple Springs but I heard voices on top of Santiago as well as lights and horns going off. On top of this I didn't see Travis or Nikki's headlamps. So I got about a half mile down Maple Springs and decided to turn back. To go back up Santiago peak. I get there and see a truck and ask them where the other runners went and why they were flashing lights and horns at me. Turns out they were immature teenagers being teenagers smoking pot up there. Well....shit....I'm lost. I started panicking because it was getting damned cold and no one was coming. I also didn't see any signs and was getting really pissed. Luckily after about an HOUR! Two runners Joel and Shannon made it up. I asked them for help,but guess what...they had no idea either. We went around the peak looking for anything and we make a group decision to just say fuck it....we're going down Maple Springs. Eventually we saw 2nd place and he said we were going the right way.
We got to the Modjeska aid station and did two brutal out and backs then went back up Maple Springs back down to Bear Springs. I saw Jerry heading out and he mentioned he got lost too! Joel and Shannon were great uphill climbers, but downhill was my bread and butter. I knew I had to bomb down Indian Truck Trail (ITT) as fast as possible to gain as much ground as possible as I knew they would climb it better than I. Going down and up ITT you can see who is where in the race. The people ahead of me were gone. There was just no way I was gonna catch them.
Around this time I started getting hallucinations and by the time I turned around at the ITT aid station (which I thought was a boat) and started climbing the massive ITT they would happen until the end of the race. Climbing ITT was something I dreaded, but it went by faster than going down it. I planned on getting passed going up, but I held out longer than expected. Shannon and Joel caught me near the top and they looked like they weren't slowing down. I was content to stay in 9th given the circumstances. My achilles hurt like hell, my ankle was on fire, I was seeing snakes....giant construction cranes...and people pointing real estate looking signs...suffice to say I was definitely feeling it. At this point I consoled myself in the fact that I was not going to make sub 24 hours.
After getting back to the ITT aid station we were off onto Horsethief trail. Horsethief trail was more technical and steep than advertised and it up and down...up and down....ad infitum. I started seeing a light behind me and started getting worried...once again last chance heroics. As mentioned in previous blogs I hate racing the last 5 miles.
The sun started coming up at this point and I turned my headlamp off. The weird thing about this was that I still saw a halo from the light. I figured out later that this is just a temporary retinal issue from running so long in the dark with a bright light on. I had never experienced this, but whatever...we're running 100 miles....shit goes wrong..it's expected.
I got to mile 98 at the Trabuco aid station and didn't even recognize the volunteers from earlier. I was so surprised and happy. I thanked them for all their work and took off down Trabuco and back to Bluejay for the last time. While hammrering the downhill my emotions got a hold of me. I started tearing up uncontrollably...I didn't know if it was the pain, the cold, relief,endocrine system out of whack, seeing loved ones...I don't know.  I got back to the finish line seeing my Mom and Andrea, thankful that the grueling race was over. I had finished for 9th place, 1st in my age group, official time 24:47.
While it did not go according to my plan, I was extremely satisfied with my performance. It was true grit and perseverance that got me through. I contemplated with quitting at mile 24...I just didn't feel it. I wanted to go home and have a nice dinner with Andrea. I knew I wouldn't do it, but it was very tempting. To Andrea's credit, she basically told me "Hey you and I both know you won't quit, so just quit bitching and get it done!".

El Finito!!!!!

Earlier I mentioned that these ultramarathons remind me of fights. Similar to a fight, anyone can win on any given day. Now, the definition of winning changes from person to person. While my result I am certainly happy with, I straight up lost to the "beast" or Chimera if you may. I don't think you can "tame the beast", everybody that finished this race felt like they just got torn apart. I learned a lot in this race. Looking back I am surprised I did as well as I did given the flu, the carbopro fizzing, the dryness, etc... I do think I really underestimated the course due to my familiarity of it, it just goes to show that on any given day anything can happen. Like Tyson said "Everyone has got a game plan until they get punched." . I learned that motto firsthand in this race at mile 12!
Special thanks to Steve Harvey, Annie, and family for putting on a stellar race. Extra thanks to the  fantastic aid station volunteers and drivers. You guys were utterly amazing. Thanks to Ulysses Chan for the great photos.Thanks to the OC Trailies and their support (in particular Joe Ochaba for his advice on this race). Thanks to Jenn for your extra gels ( You'll get the beast next year!). Thanks to my Mom, Stepmom, and Dad. You guys helped so much with helping out with the nutrition and rides all over the place. Thanks to Barbara for driving Andrea and I to the start of the race.
Lastly thanks to my beloved girlfriend Andrea Quant. I couldn't imagine doing these races without you. Your love and advice proved invaluable and the thought of you kept me going during the darkest moments of that race.
Well that's the end of a busy season....a nice half a year off is welcomed! See y'all next year! If you have any questions about racing let me know. I would be more than happy to answer them!

One busy year! 

Gear
Shoes: Altra LP 2.5
Socks: Smartwool Phd
Vest: Salomon S-Lab Ultra Sense 5 w/ UD bottles
Headband : Buff Darth Vader
Nutrition: Carbopro (ugh) , various gels, Tailwind
Shorts: Brooks
Jacket: Salomon Bonnetti
Shirts: Salomon and Smartwool longsleeve for night.
Headlamps: Petzl Tikka and Tikka+
Watch: Suunto Ambit 2S

Race Schedule for 2016
June : Western States 100 (Lottery dependent)
July: Hardrock 100 (Lottery dependent)
August: Angeles Crest 100
September: Tahoe 200

Race Report: The Cascade Crest Classic 100 - 2015...That'll Take Awhile To Get Out

As you all may know I participated in the recent addition of the Cascade Crest Classic 100. After the Zion 100 I figured I would change the scenery up by heading to Washington State and run the lush pacific northwest forest.
Before I get into the race, a little background is needed. Up until the week of the race it was predicted that it would be hot and in the mid 90's for the race. Being from California I ran some intense heat training runs in the middle of those god awful 110 degrees days. Mind you Washington State was and currently is battling intense wildfires ( I could not find the link to donate help, but just google it and help out any way you can) which almost threatened the race. Rich White (the race director) informed us that the race was still on and a storm is actually predicted to hit us for the race. So all my heat training just kinda went out the window. As the race got closer and closer I had no idea what to expect temperature or condition wise and no idea what to wear. The night before my lovely and awesome crew extraordinaire and girlfriend Andrea Quant recommended we go to the REI and pick up a wool compression shirt just in case. This would be an invaluable object for the race. Andrea's Mom and her nephew Desi decided to come make the trip and provided a great relief and support system during the entirety of the trip in which I am extremely grateful.So basically all in all, I expected a shit show weather wise. I still wanted to try to get a podium finish, but I just remembered to run the course and not the clock. Now...on to the race!

Andrea and I at the start

We showed up at the little Easton fire station at around 8:30 am to drop off my drop bag and get my bib. The race did not start until 10 am with the idea that no matter how fast you are, you are going to have to run through the night. The leisurely start time allowed my crew and I to soak in the energy of the environment. Just before the race started the clouds disappeared to provide a bright warm sun to give all of us a false sense of hope that all the race would have this weather. After the Canadian and American national anthem we were sent off.

Off we go!

Like all races I say I am not gonna go out fast, but sure enough there I was right behind Yassine and Jesse. About a mile or two in I started to slow down a little recognizing that the pace may be a little too quick for my taste. For the first 3 or so miles the trail was a nice little climb up to the first aid station which then ramped up to a pretty giant climb up to Cole Butte. I was passed by a few people on the way up. All in all it was about 10 miles in with ~5500 ft of climbing on soft but technical uphill.
My race strategy had been to power hike all of the first 50 miles then see how I felt. Of course I love my downhills and would fly down them. During this climb I noticed a common mistake that runners do all the time which is to run all the uphills with no break. I had even suppressed my competitive drive to say to these people to save their energy, but they didn't listen. Pretty much everyone that did this ended up dropping with the exception of some phenomenal athletes. I remember this smaller lady (I believe Jannesa Taylor, she is a beast btw) that I played leap frog with for the whole first 30 miles. She would pass me on the uphills and I would pass her on the downhills.

First 2 miles (Photo by Glenn Tachiyama)

Anyways during the climb I sustained a bee sting to the back of my right calf. It hurt a little, but the runner's manual had said be prepared to get stung so there was no real surprise when it happened. It also says in the runner's manual if you go hard on this uphill section, this is where most CCC100 DNFs start. I agree with this sentiment. Coming up to the Cole Butte aid station I got some water and had some watermelon and started our first downhill section.
For this event I decided to give ElevationTat a try. ElevationTat is a company that produces temporary tattoos of elevation. I found this to be invaluable to me because it also showed where the aid stations were.
After looking at my ElevationTat I saw a good two miles of downhill followed by an annoying little ~1500 ft climb. I flew down the big fire road downhill pretty quickly, just letting gravity do the work. At the bottom I took a pee and started feeling the beginnings of some tendonitis in my hamstrings. This was a little worrisome this early in the race to me. Must have been from the climbing.
From here it was a gradual uphill where I just powerhiked up it. It was a relatively boring section of the course and I was passed by a few people.The skies opened to a little drizzle on this part and I donned my jacket. Once we hit the Blowout aid station we started what turned out to be my favorite part of the course...the Pacific Crest Trail!
Running through the PCT was everything that I love about trail running. Lush, vibrant, and wet forest with grounds padded with decades of decayed flora under your foot. The rain was blocked by the dense canopies of the huge trees and made for amazing views. I ran without anyone really coming up on me and passed no one. For some reason I couldn't really enjoy the moment too much because I had a headache and some tendonitis spreading into the tendons that connect the hamstring to the knee. Towards a little climb a runner came up on me right before the aid station at Tacoma Pass at mile 23ish. His name was Greg Lackey and we would run together until mile 55ish. We swapped stories and backgrounds. He was a really good uphill runner and I was a really good downhill runner so we both acknowledged our mutually beneficial camaraderie until one of us couldn't keep up anymore. After Tacoma pass we did some climbing up to Snowshoe Butte which was manned by an ecstatic and helpful cross country team. Greg and I both stated our hamstrings were giving us problems. So when we left aid stations we would go up to each other, even though we weren't ready, and say "Hey let's get on outta here!". Right after leaving that station Rich White was on the trail to give us high fives and see how the lead pack was doing. Rich would do this for almost the entirety of the event! He was like the G-Man from Half-Life (nerd cred). Greg and I wondered how Rich was able to be at a lot of aid stations so quickly.

On the beautiful PCT during the rain! (Photo by Glenn Tachiyama)

Greg and I clicked off the next 5 miles pretty quickly with no one behind us. We came to some beautiful clearings where the trail was reminiscent of Southern California only to retreat back into the dense woods. We kept commenting on how quick this race was going (boy were we wrong!).
We came out unto probably my favorite aid station which was Stampede Pass. Stampede Pass had a Jurassic Park theme and even the soundtrack blasting in the background! On top of this Greg got to see his crew and pick up his vest. They also offered Fireball shots of courage! I tempted Greg to try it with me, but he said it was probably not a good idea. I concurred and we got out of there.
The next few miles Greg and I got separated a little due to his outstanding uphill running. My tendonitis was in full throe now and I had to stretch my hammies out every 30 or so minutes. I kept thinking to myself "This is gonna be along one". I did some pretty steep climbs and popped out into a nice, dark super technical downhill. Upon coming to Olallie Meadow aid station I caught a little swig of PBR courage from a nice group of PCT hikers. At the aid station I caught up with Greg and fueled up on food, knowing a pretty cool section was awaiting us. He was stoked to see me and I him. We took off together stoked to be almost halfway done with the race.
Greg and I ran the rocky downhill to the legendary Ropes section. This section was awesome and terrifying at the same time. You literally rappel down a mountainside. I ate shit and knocked the wind out of myself, but kept going. Next up we entered the Snoqualmie abandoned train tunnel and ran it for 2.7 miles. It was pretty trippy going through there as you are literally under a giant mountain with water ,finely purified and smashed,  seeping through the granite ceiling. Greg and I ran it at a good clip and popped out at the Hyak aid station, over halfway done with the race and my first time seeing my crew!
I came out to Andrea, her Mom, and nephew all greeting me with giant smiles. It was such a relief. I can honestly say that one of the most important things in an ultra is the love and warmth from your family and friends. The human factor is real and I have become a big believer in it after running these races.
While her Mom and Nephew looked at me like I was just crazy, Andrea assessed me right away. She got my drop bag ready as it was starting to get a little colder. I took off my racing singlet and donned the Smartwool longsleeve that she so graciously made me get. I said hi to a little video camera they held up and gave everyone a hug and a picture, then Andrea ran me off saying I love you and pick up the pace! LOL! I must admit that I faked being ok at this aid station. I literally felt like complete shit right here. My tendonitis was so bad that I could not straighten out my left leg and now was spreading to my dreaded Achilles tendons. Picking up the pace was not really an option at this point for me. I thought I may have been down and out.

 Andrea helping me switch out the singlet for Smartwool

Much better!

I took off with no pacer as I did not have one for the race while Greg got his pacer. I am not really a fan of pacers, but out of pride and stupidity. They certainly are a benefit, but they kinda take away the aspect of being self sufficient to me. I found Greg's pacer to be somewhat distracting as he rattled off how excited he was and crunched numbers about how fast we will finish. To me it seemed easy for him to say what he was saying without 53 miles of this shit we had just run through, plus I thought his calculations were way off, but hey whatever (we both ended up beating his predictions :)).I will say this, too many ultra blogs are too nice and I just tell it how it is, if you have a problem with that...go run a 100 like this one. I was not excited at all and let them move ahead. I had to stretch a little as I was in alot of pain. For about 2.5 miles it was all road.
I heard the pacer say we have a "little" ~2500 ft climb (another reason I found him distracting...what 2500 ft climb is little?!) and my ElevationTat confirmed this. I knew I would be walking up this beast up to Keechelus Ridge only to be shat out into the beloved Trail from Hell. Once the road ended, it was a long fire road all the way to the top as the heavens opened up the flood gates. The rain wasn't too bad, but the climb was merciless and long. Thankfully I made it to the Keechelus thanking all gods in the book that the climb was over.
Now it was about 6 miles of fun downhill to the Trail from Hell. It was already pretty dark at this point and as I ran down the downhill, the rain really opened up big time. It poured like the storm in Jurassic Park. With torrential pounds of water bearing down on me I still hauled ass down the downhill as I saw a light start the downhill a few thousand feet up. I don't like being passed this late. I put a good distance between us and got to the Kachess Lake aid station and took off. I had seen The Ginger Runner's video of the Trail from Hell, but it didn't seem too daunting.

I can honestly say that is definitely a trail from hell. It looks like a flat spot on the elevation profile, but why would the CCC100 ever be nice to you? LOL. The Trail from Hell is 4 miles through extremely technical and dangerous trail next to a lake dropoff with barely enough room for a foot to fit. Sometimes you had to "climb" up or down over roots, trees, rocks. whatever there may be. I say "climb" because I mostly slipped down the climbs. Your night could easily have eneded if you were not focused 110% on the trail a foot or two in front of you. With torrential rain and darkness it made it amusing. I could picture Rich White laughing amusingly by our feeble attempts at his version of the Hunger Games. It really was masochistic and designed by a sadist. I did not hallucniate this entire trip, but the roots on this trail looked full on like all kinds of snakes which freaked me out a few times. During the entirety of the trail someone was chasing behind me. I could see their lights flicker through the thick foliage. I felt like an escaped convict. I heard a lot of comparisons to this trail being exactly like the H.U.R.T 100. The trail never seemed to end. Finally I came out relatively refreshed from the trail. Now for the last ~5500 + ft climb for the race. At this point it started dropping in temperature and I was getting pretty cold in the fingers. Much to my surprise my feet never got cold or torn up, a testament to Smartwool socks and the Altra Lone Peak 2.5.  At this point I had just my shorts, gloves, Smartwool longsleeve, Buff, jacket, headlamp, vest, socks, and shoes. I realized running faster and harder would be the key to warmth. Upon this climb I was caught by a guy and his pacer out of nowhere. I swear they pulled the headlamp trick on me, but they said they didn't. I was not too happy with them. They were running the uphill and I wasn't. I did notice the runner was not wearing much which surprised me for how cold it was getting. I started sucking the water out of my gloves and placing them on my lower back while powerhiking. This was pretty effective at warming your hands up. After climbing in the cold rain for what seemed like an eternity we came to the Hawaiian themed No Name Ridge aid station. This aid station was awesome and warm. Here I noticed a lady (Marta Fisher) I had not seen pass me and it was a little strange. I usually have a good memory and never saw her pass me, but hey who knows stranger things have happened. I was feeling a little better and kept trucking.
The weather was just getting worse and worse and next up was a out and back climb and descent down Thorp Mountain. These next 4 miles were literally the gnarliest conditions that I have ever not only ran in, but been in.I was passed by Marta. The climb up I literally could not see that well as rain was starting to turn into sleet.I thought my vision was going blurry but there was just that much sleet and rain. The winds started gusting at 40 mph and started getting really really cold. I turned my Buff into a balaclava to keep my face warm and retrieved the number on paper that said you went up the mountain.( It turned out be the worst summer storm in the Pacific Northwest in history : http://cliffmass.blogspot.com/2015/08/the-strongest-summer-storm-in-northwest.html ) As I descended the mountain I could see how close people were behind me. Turns out I am a pretty bad uphill climber as there were two guys getting pretty close. I booked it towards the next section aptly named Cardiac Needles.
I heard a lot of bad things about "the needles", but I thought the worst part was the weather. Basically the Cardiac Needles are a series of super steep hills. They say there is always one more needle than the course says...according to local lore. I counted...two? They were definitely steep but the downhills had a intense crosswind that blinded you with rain on a super technical trail. I fell off the trail once from just the trail giving away.I  even fell off the trail looking at my ElevationTat (the weirdest feeling ever, yet another reason not to text and drive!).
After this section we got to the French Cabin aid station.88 miles, I'm almost there! This aid station was awesome and I took a whole PB&J sandwich. Just before I went out, one of the volunteers said there was a kid that was almost hypothermic and  had laying under the heater for half an hour. It was the guy that was wearing nothing that passed me..you know...the headlamp trick guy. I hoped he was ok, but hey when it rains and its cold...put a jacket on.
Now....the hardest part was over! It was literally all downhill from here. 8 miles of technical downhill! I had been savoring this moment for awhile as downhills are my bread and butter. I hauled ass down the technical downhill stomping through the puddles. The rain had backed off to just normal rain now and I just let gravity do the work. I caught Marta on the downhill in which they seemed really surprised. I kept trucking and put some distance between us. I stopped for a pee to see if there was any RABDO issues to be scared about, but no all clear! Literally! I had intentions of not stopping at the mile 95. I passed by the mile 95 aid station and they sarcastically said "Thanks for stopping by!". By now I settled into a nice but brisk pace when all of a sudden Marta and her pacer were right next to me. I said "Wow" then her pacer tried distracting me and talking to me saying how she turned it on and how amazing she was while she ran ahead of us and booked it. I was pretty pissed as I was tired and banged up. Sprinting was the last thing I wanted to do, but this is an instance when anger is a good thing. I caught up next to her and said "Well...now we're gonna have to race." then booked it...I mean really booked it probably high 5 or low 6 min/mi pace at mile 96 ish. I knew she was going to be super tough and would fight till the end. At the moment I hate things like this, but looking back, this is what it's all about. Around mile 98, there was a tight right hand turn in the mud and I full on ate it. With mud all over me I got up and thought she would've passed me, but to my relief she didn't. I continued to book it into the mid 7 min/mi range. I got to the road and new the finish line was close. I followed the markers and came into the town of Easton. I crossed the train tracks and cried a little. It was such a relief. I saw Anuedrea see me and jump and run to the finish line. I saw the legendary CCC100 start line and heard Rich White on the microphone yelling "All the way from Orange, CALI!!!!! BRANDEN BOLLWEG!!!!!". I came to the finish and gave Rich a big hug telling him that his course was a beast of a course. He was super stoked for me and they all seemed confused that a southern California could do so well in the conditions. I looked perplexed I had guessed I was maybe 15th, but turns out I got 7th place at 21:53! He gave me my awesome belt buckle and I went straight to Andrea and gave a giant hug and kiss. I spoke with numerous people from Rich's coven about the conditions and we all agreed that may be one of the hardest races ever raced due to the conditions. Turns out only 98 people out of 153 made it. That makes it tied for the lowest percent success rate (63%) in the CCC100's history.

The end to a long race, Official time 21:53:39 (Photo by Glenn Tachiyama)

The hardest belt buckle to get thus far!

First off I want to say thank you to Rich White and all the people who volunteered and put this event together. It was such a fun and great event. The aid station volunteers who literally helped people survive hypothermia deserve a huge thank you as well. I would like to thank the fire fighters who continue to battle the intense wild fires out there. Special thanks to Glenn Tachiyama for his amazing photos! I would like to thank all my running friends and fellow OC Trailies (including Mike Bell) in Southern California for their encouraging words, wisdom, and inspiration. I would like to thank Andrea's  Mom and Nephew. You guys were awesome and kept things light and easy. Lastly I would like to thank the love of my life Andrea. I cannot tell you how many times just the thought of you brought me out of some dark places in the race. You are a tremendous human being that helped me immensely with this race. I can't wait to return the favor for you in a race you do!!!

Thank you to my one and only crew and girlfriend!

This was the hardest thing thus far ever done in my life. ~22,000 ft of climbing in highly technical, dangerous terrain in the middle of the worst summer storm in the history of the Pacific Northwest took everything I had mentally and physically. I was utterly exhausted and borderline hypothermic at the end of the race. I even got sick for awhile with a fever and cold the following Monday, probably by my immune system being shot to hell. The sense of achievement attained at the end of these races is unlike anything I've ever felt. I highly recommend this race, as the PCT part was the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen;but...I highly don't recommend doing it in these conditions. Next up is Chimera 100 Nov 14th 2015!

Nutrition : GU Electrolyte powder mix and Tailwind Nutrition

Gear
Jacket : Salomon Bonnetti
Headlamps : Petzl Tikka and Tikka+
Singlet: Brooks
Base Layer : Smartwool longsleeve compression shirt
Shorts: Brooks
Vest : UD Scott Jurek Model
Gloves: REI Running
Headwear: 2 Buffs
Socks : Smartwool PhD running
Shoes: Altra Lone Peak 2.5

The 2015 Zion 100 - Achilles Destroyer

Ok, bear with me through all this as this is my first blog posting. I have wanted to start a blog on my running adventures for a while now, but wanted to start it off with a bang...something significant. Without much further ado here is my account on my first 100 mile race experience at the 2015 Zion 100.
I wanted to race a scenic 100 miler and what better race than to run 100 miles through the Zion national park? Andrea Quant (my girlfriend and crewer) and I decided that we would take a nice little road trip, camp out, and see how this goes. The drive there is a story within itself, but this blog will just focus on race day.
4:00 am the alarm went off, I got up, had a muffin, and then Andrea dropped me off at the start line. I found my fellow Californian friends Jason, Vince, and Tim. I have met these guys through races and they are a hilarious bunch. They always make you laugh, which is welcome when such a absurd task ahead of you. They had all ran the AC 100, so I was the odd man out. I will admit, at first I really thought this wouldn't be too hard of a race, even though having never  ran a 100. Nutrition-wise this would be an all Tailwind event.
Like all ultras they spring the start on you when you least expect it, you just start seeing people run and you think to yourself "shit, ok I guess we're starting". We ran off into the brisk morning at 6:00 am headlamps and all.
The race thankfully warms you up quickly with a giant climb up a trail called "Flying Monkey" which ascends up a mesa (you can read about how the trail got its name on Kelly Agnew's great blog). This trail is not runnable uphill, as it is just too steep and there are too many people. It climbs a good ~1200 ft in about a mile, all the while the sun started coming out providing beautiful views of the sprawling Virgin desert. Jason, Vince, and I kept together up most the climb bantering back and forth trying to just relax and take it easy. We then got to a top rope where you had to use it to climb up a ledge. Well, this created traffic as some idiot decided he wanted to take a picture while holding on to the rope. This pissed off a few people and even further the guy behind him fell off the ledge because the rope broke! Thankfully that guy was ok and I traversed the cliff a little to bypass the top rope, which everyone else had to do until they fixed the top rope. We got to the top of the mesa and the first aid station then started running a nice pleasant trail around the mesa that was very reminiscent of Big Bear. I had to take a quick poop stop and then we got to descend down "Flying Monkey". Without knowing much about the name of the trail, I thought that the "Flying Monkey" moniker was fitting as Tim and I flailed our way down the exhilarating descent. All the California boys and I love our descents, especially technical ones.
Now, with the adrenaline pumping Tim and I started to get separated going into the Dalton aid station at around mile 15. Andrea, my Dad and Step-Mom Linda were there to greet me. With ultras I've come to learn that these moments are what keep you going and what you must strive for rather than thinking about the end. The people that care about you and the volunteers feed off your energy and you feed of theirs, it's a really great feeling. After stocking up on some more tailwind, giving Andrea a wet smack on the cheek, I headed up to the Gaucamole Mesa. This was a gradual climb and had some beautiful views of a big ranch. I got to Guacamole aid station and took another crap. The event organizers decided to go "all natural" by providing porto-toilets where you would throw wood-mulch over your poo to make a compost. Sorry for the imagery, but it was pretty cool, whatever floats...or gets covered in mulch I guess.

Coming into the Dalton aid station (mile ~15)

The next section was my first struggle. Matt Gunn (the bearded race director) warned us that running on slick-rock takes a lot out of you and is hard to get in a rhythm. Suffice to say, I didn't take heed of his warning.  The next 5 miles or so was a maddening maze of slick-rock and trail markers where's Waldo. Running on slick-rock is like running on concrete that a construction worker decided he wants to be a Picasso of concrete. The impact, angles, the up and down just put my ankles through the grinder. On top of all this, slick-rock is hard to gauge the depth of the rock so you have to focus 100% on about two feet in front of you at all times. You look up and you could catch you foot and fall on the abrasive rock. At this time I had to stop and find the trail markers numerous times. I saw a bunch of people get lost and also saw the leaders heading back to the aid station. At this time I gauged I was in the top 20 or so.
Finally getting out of the slick-rock infused maze, I started down towards the Dalton aid station again. The gradual mild descent down Guacamole was a welcome reprieve to my ankles. I just let gravity do the work and cruised with a 100k dude named Steele to the Dalton aid station. I was again met with cheers and my crew. I filled up on some more tailwind (which I would do for all the aid stations for the rest of the race) and Andrea brilliantly handed me some watermelon water. This stuff was amazing and I highly recommend it. She smeared on a dab of sunscreen and I started across the town road towards the legendary Gooseberry mesa. Steele and I ran through a beautiful desert section at this point and I was feeling ok at about 30 miles in. I thought to myself "I've ran a 100k before, I only have approx 100k left...piece of cake right?" Other people started feeling the heat at this point as it was getting hot. Us Californian boys are used to this though and my training runs in the dead heat of day out in El Morro definitely helped out.
While you are running this desert section, you can see this ethereal trail that climbs up to the top of the mesa. Unfortunately this was what I found out to be the legendary "Goosebump" climb. It was also impossible to run up this trail.  This was my first opportunity to power-hike at my pace. Power-hiking has been somewhat of a weak spot for me, but my friend Matt Kafka gave me some pointers throughout some runs that we have done. His advice is always spot-on and I'm lucky enough to have him as a source for information. I remembered my teachings and kept a high cadence, small steps, and my back straight while I started up the ~1700 ft climb. I caught a few people on the way up. A lot of people in this race seemed to do well on parts that weren't overly "crazy". The really hard ascents and descents are what I love, but I hate running the "filler" miles and find myself getting bored and uninspired by the landscape. I felt pretty good getting up to the top of "Gooseberry" mesa, but now we had another dreaded slick-rock maze. This time it was 7.5 miles. While I really struggled with the slick-rock on this section, the views were amazing. Part of the trail literally took you to the edge of the mesa and you could see all of the Virgin desert. At this point it just got annoyingly hot and the slick-rock had me taking the race director's name in vain. This race "only" had 10,500 ft of gain, but I will say this. I would rather climb an ungodly amount of feet than run slick-rock, slick-rock is literally the worst surface I have ever run on...no joke...worse than actual road running.

Coming out of the slick-rock maze on Gooseberry mesa (Mile ~48)

Another aside, I ran into quite a few mountain bikers on this trail as it is a legendary mountain biking trail. These mountain bikers were the nicest people and had simple yet really inspiring things to say. They didn't have to but I remember two bikers in particular saying "It really tells alot about who you are doing this" and "Just remember the pain and inspiration come in waves brotha!". These little things inspired me along with the landscape to get through this damned section. I came to the aid station pretty drained at around mile 48. Andrea, my Dad and Linda could see I was really struggling after that section. I poured some water over my head while Andrea soaked my buff (a water retaining headband) with cold water. This was a pretty dumb move on my part as my hair was completely covered with salt. It stung the hell out of my eyes. Was I getting enough salt or drinking too much water? These are questions that plague an ultrarunner every second of the race. Visions of coffee-colored pee and hypoantraemic shock have you always guessing and worrying. Andrea walked with me out of the aid station on a long and dusty road. I complained and unloaded some profanity regarding what I was doing and that damned slick-rock. At this point I really was uninspired as cars were going by on this long dusty road out to the Grafton aid station. Some jerks would fly by in cars, making it impossible to breath. Andrea consoled me and told me I was doing amazing. My Dad told me I was 11th at this point. I'm not gonna lie I had pretty high expectations going into this race, like a typical overzealous rookie when it comes to 100 milers. I had some pretty good results in 50mi-100k races, but this....this was completely different and much much harder. I saw Andrea and my parents take off in the truck down the dusty road and I was on my own again.
This section kinda sucked as it was boring, less scenic, hot, and cars kicking up dust all over the place. I took another poop stop and continued on. Some people would roll down their window and cheer you on, but at this point I was really feeling it. I looked behind and saw a woman coming up on me at a pretty good pace. This feeling always gets to me for some reason as I am a extremely competitive person. I try to tell myself it's a long race and competition is fun, but when you're feeling like crap, the last thing I wanted to do was worry about this person coming up.

Blowing kisses to Andrea as she leaves me in the dust.

Finally I got to the Grafton aid station to see Andrea and my folks. They said I needed to eat more, but I thought the Tailwind was doing me good. The woman caught me at the aid station. I came to find her name is Roxanne and she is a hell of a runner. She was looking really strong and it kind of deflated my mood. Was I slowing down or where they speeding up? Another question that plays on repeat on a ultrarunner's mind.

Must get my Tailwind!

My dad told me I was on my way to the Cemetery aid station. I joked that I was going there to die, because I felt like complete hell. I continued on a beautiful little cactus infested single track that led to a steep descent.  I saw the leaders going up, we exchanged words of encouragement, and I continued on the slightly technical downhill. I could see Roxanne up ahead and caught her at the aid station. A cute little girl asked if I would stay at the aid station with her. I laughed and said I wish I could sweetheart. This little nugget of joy brought some life to me as Roxanne and I headed to climb the descent we just went down. It may have been a runnable section, but at mile 58 everyone just power-hiked. This was a section where you could see how close everyone was to you. Two other runners were closing in on Roxanne and I. The second one was a fellow Californian named Ian Seabury that I had ran the Twin Peaks 50 with but never ended up chatting. He was looking pretty strong. (Photos below: Andrea and my Dad with me at the Grafton aid station mile 62.5)

Once conquering the ascent, the trail back to the Grafton aid station was quite pleasant with a nice little steep technical section. The weather was starting to cool and was feeling better by the minute. Roxanne had pulled away at this point. I had thought I put in a good effort, but out of nowhere Ian came in and passed me quickly while I pulled into the aid station. I came to the Grafton aid station feeling pretty good, my crew still telling me I needed to eat more. This was the last time I would see my Dad and Step-mom as they were going to head back to their hotel, whereas I wouldn't see Andrea again until mile 80. I got pictures with them and continued on my way back up that long dusty road with all the cars kicking up dust again.
This was the most mundane part of the race, this long dusty boring road.  The whole time I saw Ian and his orange shirt slowly getting smaller in the distance. I was uninspired at this point, but I didn't want to lose my position any more than I had. I put in a decent effort as I made my way to the Goosebump aid station for the third time.
This is where my race would turn around, those moments that define you're race and who you are. I had wanted to get down the treacherous Goosebump trail while there was still light out. I donned my headlamp just in case and made my way to the trailhead and looked around a little. Someone had a drone hovering ready to follow anyone brave enough to fly down this thing. Since we live in a narcissistic world I figured I'd give them a spectacle. The anticipation of the steep descent and the drone made me feel amazing and I was at mile 68. Suffice to say I literally flew down Goosebump trail (Sub 7 min/mi) while the drone chased me. The dusk was filled with deep pink, reds, and oranges as I descended. (I would really love to see that footage whoever filmed that). It was an amazing experience. I picked off three people including Ian who seemed to have injured his leg at the top of Goosebump. I flew by Roxanne and yelled "I'm back!". She just looked like she saw a ghost, as no one was running Goosebump down. I was feeling amazing at this point and rode the adrenaline all the way into the dark.
The trail to the Virgin desert aid station seemed longer than advertised, but I made it there. Now, at 75 miles, we had three loops that we had to complete in accordance to the colored wrist band we got. First the red loop, then white and blue. At this point the temperatures dropped pretty dramatically. So I donned my jacket. Everyone I've talked to after the race said the white or blue loop was the hardest, but I found the red loop to be literally my Achilles heel...as it would kill my Achilles'. The loop was comprised of a constant mountain bike trail with infrequent rollers ever 3-5 ft. Trying to do this in the dark with 75 miles on your legs feels like the 9th threshold of hell...at least for me. The constant up and down led me to over extend my feet because I couldn't tell where the rollers ended or began. This led to my Achilles tendon being expanded and contracted with strenuous weight time and time again. By this time I could see lights catching up to me. I came into the Virgin aid station the first time kind of pissed off. I hated that trail straight up. By this time Ian came into the aid station also. I guess his leg wasn't hurt after all.My Mom, step-dad, and Andrea were there this time and it helped a lot. At this point I could tell Andrea was getting tired, she had helped so much today, she didn't have to, but man was she a trooper! I had some Top-Ramen noodles, coke, and more Tailwind and took off again, this time the white loop. I knew it was a dangerous game rushing out at the aid stations at this point, but it was late in the race, drastic times call for drastic measures!
The two-ish miles of the white loop were flat single track, so I put a good sub 8 pace effort in to give me some breathing room. The white looped then turned into a another roller show and my Achilles once again wanted to not be associated with me anymore. The lights behind me didn't seem too close at this point, it seemed my sub 8 pace strategy was paying off. I took it easy and got back to the Virgin desert aid station. I stealthily caught my Mom and Andrea off guard as I snuck into the food tent. I just wanted to get going on the blue loop and get this race done at this point. My Mom gave me some warm Ramen broth and Andrea gave me a hug as I went off for the last loop. This is where things would get iffy.
The blue loop had, from what I can tell, everything in it. Climbing, descending, technical, runnable, and a extremely high probability of falling. It's not an ultra until you fall right? I caught my shoe probably more than 10 times on this loop. The doozy is one where I stubbed my toe really bad on a rock with me skidding on my hands to a halt...eh could've been worse. I was wondering why I kept catching my feet on rocks and started to realize I was having strange feelings and minor hallucinatory things happen. Sleep deprivation, extreme fatigue, and colder temperatures were making it really hard on me. I ran the first three miles relatively fast, but as I came to mile 4 my mind started playing tricks on me. I felt somewhat drunk and couldn't follow a straight line too well. Also visions of cows and old Venician black plague doctors with the long-beaked masks with their big hats started to come out of the shadows. I think I envisioned cows because their poo was on the trail a few times, as for the scary looking Venician plague doctors have no idea why. I know it sounds somewhat scary, but at that point I didn't give a shit. Part of the benefits of running these crazy races right? Anyways...I pulled into the Virgin desert aid station for the last time. Ready to head to the finish.
By this time I put a decent lead ahead of the light behind me. I kissed Andrea and hugged my mom and step-dad saying I'll see them in 6 miles. I also saw my friend Vince at this point as he was starting the white loop, we hugged and Andrea got me heading out to the final push.
The last six miles were awesome. For some reason the auto-tuned song of a guy eating a five-guys burger played in my head (Dayum DAyum DAYUM!!). It's a hilarious song and is surprisingly catchy. I felt strong again, no more visions, and I put in some quick miles, but a headlight emerged about from what I gauged to be 5 minutes behind me. Dayum DAyum DAYUM!!!! Whoever this was wouldn't give up! I ran faster, even though my body was finito. Finally I came into 100 West Town Park! It was bittersweet as it was 2:30 am in the morning and pretty much no one except Andrea, my Mom, my Step-dad, a passed out guy in the tent, and three event volunteers were there. I embraced them all and sat by a burning barrel like a bum. My body started shaking uncontrollably as it couldn't deal with the cold anymore. My official time was 20:33 for 7th place for my first 100 miler! Six minutes later Ian came in. I couldn't believe the effort and comeback that guy made. We embraced and had a PBR together and chatted for a bit. We got our belt buckles and traded stories around the fire for a good half hour. From there on me and my crew left and went to bed.
I learned so much from this race, as it was the hardest thing I have ever done in life. It makes all your problems seem so insignificant and love for your family and friends more profound. I gotta thank Andrea who I love so much, she was there crewing me even though she is in her Master's finals week! And people say I'm crazy! My parents were amazing and I'm glad they got a little taste of the stupid things their children do. People say that we, ultrarunners, are crazy, but crazy is relative isn't it? I think crazy is spending 80k on a car that gets you from point A to point B. Huge thanks to Matt Gunn, the bearded race director, for putting on such an amazing, well-organized, and challenging event, Bryce 100 may be in the future!

Running 100 miles just for a damned belt buckle!

Next up is a fun R2R2R run with the OC Trailies in May and then the Cascade Crest Classic 100 in August!

• Gear used: UD SJ Vest, Tailwind Nutrition, Onnit's Alpha-brain and Schroom-Tec Sport, Petzl Tikka headlamp, Buff, Altra LP 2.0 race shoes, Salomon Bonnetti jacket and race shirt, Brooks shorts, Injinji socks, Suunto Ambit 2 S Watch

Cheers,
-Branden