2014 Lumberjack 100

     After knocking around the mountain/trail ultra scene for the last few years it seemed time to step up to the 100 mile distance. Hell, in some circles you're not even considered an ultra runner until you complete said distance. Not that I subscribe to that line of thinking though. I settled on Lumberjack after speaking with a few seasoned veterans who's opinions I greatly valued. It seemed a wise choice as it was a "looped" course which would allow me to become familiar with the trail due to its repetitious nature and thus hopefully eliminate or at least reduce the chances of getting lost once it got dark out. Also, it "only" had 12,000' of vertical gain. No walk in the park to be sure but as a lover of vertical gain and the fact that this equated to 120' per mile I didn't see this aspect as a threat.
     I left my home in Bellevue early Friday afternoon making my way to Edmonds where I would catch the ferry to Kingston. Once in Kingston it was a short drive over to the Start/Finish which was just a stones throw South of Port Gamble. I parked the van I had borrowed right along the gravel road opposite the start/finish aid station. This would allow super easy access to my foodstuffs and supplemental clothing that I may or may not need as the race progressed. I had the pleasure of meeting both the RDs John and Brooke as well as running in to my trail buddy Brad D, his girlfriend/wife(?), and their dog Kai. After some brief socializing and a short reconnoiter up the first few miles of the course I took refuge for the evening in the back of the van.

Leaving Edmonds

Getting to Kingston
 

     Despite setting my alarm for 7 a.m. I was awoken around 6:30 by the usual prerace chatter of nervous runners. From the comfort of my nest of pillows, blankets, and sleeping bag I heard a familiar voice call out "Matt Hagen! Get your ass over here!". It was Matt's wife Betsey calling him to the start line for the "early start" at 7. Keep in mind that just a week prior these two had run the Zion 100 in Utah and here they were toing the line again. They are awesomely badass to say the least. After the early starters departed I dawned my regalia for the day, ate a light breakfast, hit the head, and got ready for distances my body had never experienced before.


Pre-race briefing (Photo: Nancy Szoke)

     In what seemed like no time at all RD John had finished his course briefing and a funny 10 second countdown was upon us. No backing out now. We were off! Brad D took off like a bat out of hell followed by Terry Sentinella and an unknown woman. They were followed by Tim Stroh who I tucked in behind. Being the NW ultra-nerd that I am I knew Tim was a seasoned 100 miler and had won this race the previous year. If I got ahead of him I must be going out too hard. Soon it was just Tim and I with Daniel Kuhlmann in tow. I knew Daniel from his "camera on a stick" videos from YouTube. I briefly passed Tim after aid station 1 but he soon caught back up. He introduced himself and we would frequently find ourselves running together until mile 37.5 where he would finally break away. Prior to that we got to know each other and he was a really nice guy. We talked on a variety of subjects that started with tips for my first 100 and NW ultra history, and eventually lead to subjects such as paper mills, engineering, land conservation, Mt Pugh, a litigious America, childhood obesity, and the tragic Oso landside. It was great to talk to him and made the first 3 loops go by with ease.

Service road just after the start

     There was a period of a few miles during those initial loops when we didn't run together and during that time I would find myself running with Kirsten Casey, the eventual female winner of the 100. She was really nice and we chatted it up. We were both making our 100 mile debuts so we had that in common plus we had both run Terry's Woolley 50K earlier in the year. While we were running we were passed by a man who was running very strong. Kirsten asked what distance he was running and he replied "100K". I knew there were only 3 people running that distance, Brad D, a gentleman who I had met the previous afternoon, and Joe Lee, winner of last year's Plain 100. I knew it must be Joe and he confirmed it when I asked him. Joe, if your reading this I'm the guy who referred to you as the "Gangster of Plain". He was also very friendly but at his pace would soon leave us. Eventually Kirsten would also break away from me as well and given how strong she looked I figured that would be the last I would see of her.

     As for the course itself it was very pretty but deceptively tough. While not mountainous like many of the trails I'm used to it meandered through the woods along single track, double track, and service roads. Other than the mud-fest which was the Babcock Trail at the beginning of each loop there were no climbs that required power hiking for more than a minute. The course had a sinister way of beating you up without you knowing it. Much of the single track was maintained by mountain bikers and while they did a marvelous job the trail rolled so hard that I never felt like I could get a rhythm going. Plus it was wreaking havoc on my knees which I wouldn't discover till later. Add to that the stretches of service road which while allowing one to gain speed, would also tenderize your feet with their fiendish combination of gravel and small stone composition.

(Photo: Nancy Szoke)

  I can't say enough about the volunteers. They were top notch! Each station had a full on spread of goodies that even this picky vegan had no issues indulging in. Over each 12.5 mile loop there were three aid station and I believe the furthest distance was between maybe 4.5 miles between aid station 2 and the start/finish aid station (which was also the easiest stretch of the course).

Running in with Tim (Photo: Nancy Szoke)

  The first 50 miles were pretty uneventful which was nice. The only hiccup was around mile 45 when I went to take a sip of water from my bottle and realized both my hands were empty. Uh oh. I either left it at the last aid station or had put it down to pee or extract pebbles from my shoes. Not the end the world but it was a bit of a mental blow. Fortunately aid station 2 had plastic bottles of water for the crew and they generously gave me one.
    
 I could tell by my splits that I was slowing down but it was okay because I split the 50 in 9:39 which gave me over 14 hours to reach my goal of sub-24. Before heading out for my 5th lap I restocked my vest with myriad Clifshots, my windbreaker, gloves, and my headlamps. Headlamps plural you say? Why yes! I've heard horror stories about people breaking lamps or having trouble with changing batteries so multiple ones all with fresh batteries just seemed wiser. Although it soon got dark enough that probably should have turned on my lamp I found my eyes adjusted quite well and I wanted to see how long I could go for sans light. It was actually really fun running through the forest in darkness. It felt primal. Unfortunately though due to some of the more technical sections of the trail I found myself slowing down too much so on came the light. I had experience running with a headlamp so it was not a new sensation and I adapted quickly. Plus, the sky was clear and the moon and stars were on full display. If you're reading this and you participated I'm sure you enjoyed the hilltop clearing around mile between aid station 1 and 2 as much as I did. No light pollution here!
     As I finished my 5th lap (62.5 miles) I ran in to fellow eastsider and ultra-buddy Chris Bellevie. It was good to see a familiar face as I had been alone for the last 25 miles. Little did I know that other than occasionally lapping someone or getting lapped by eventual winner Gilbert Ondusko I would run the rest of the race alone. Pacers were allowed but for my first 100 I really wanted to see what my mind was made of (you know what I'm talking about Hagen).
     It was now 9:01 p.m.. I had been on my feet for 13 hours and 1 minute. Prior to this my longest run had been three weeks ago at Dizzy Daze (thanks again Matt and Betsey) where I covered 64 miles. The longest period of time I had ever run for was 14 hours and 5 minutes at the 2013 Ultrapedestrian Wilderness Challenge (Thank you Ras). As I headed out for my 6th loop I realized I would be entering unknown waters both in distance and time. In other words shit was about to get real.
     I was still running most of the course at this point but my pace had drastically been reduced thanks to the bludgeoning the course had put on my feet, ankles, and knees. No matter though. I was just happy to get out of the aid station because my logic was conspiring against my will and had I stayed there much longer I may have dropped to the 100K distance. When people say that 100 mile races don't begin till the second half of the race they aren't kidding. I was tired both physically and mentally. I also don't where headphones when I run so by this point my mind was starting to wander to some very odd places.
     When I wasn't thinking about "who knows what" I was constantly trying to convince myself to keep going. I had several tactics I used to accomplish this. Some are personal and I won't get in to them but there are two that I'll share. the first is how awful I would feel if I dropped. In my 50ish trail races over the last 4 seasons I've DNF'd twice and both times were due to legitimate injuries. How could I respect myself if I quit because I was tired and had a couple owies. Knowing the difference between hurt and injured is important skill and one I think I've mastered pretty well. In this case that skill helped me keep going. The second tactic I used to keep going was the knowledge that I was signed up for the Cascade Crest (Classic) 100. If I couldn't finish this how would I get through that beast? Also, I didn't get in through the lottery. I skipped that by volunteering last year. I convinced myself that I stole some legitimate runner's shot at glory by weaseling through the backdoor and to DNF now would be akin to spitting in the face of all the people who didn't make the lottery. Not to mention that Tim who I was running with earlier was a cofounder of CCC100 and that Rich White, the current RD was back at the start finish. No sir. F that S! I'm finishing this damn thing if I have to death march the next 3 loops.
     Despite my renewed motivation the wheels were starting to come off at this point. I did have the benefit of knowing that by the time I finished this loop at mile 75 my folks would have arrived at the start/finish and I would get a big mental boost seeing them. As I shuffled along staring at the ground as to not trip over a root a tiny woodland mouse darted out on to the trail. He was a fearless little critter as he seemed content to match my pace directly under my feet. Not wanting to hurt him I got up on my toes to reduce my contact patch and after a few seconds common sense got the better of him and he got of the trail. It was a bit nerve racking but made me smile. It's funny how when your mind and body are that tired the tiniest little things can have huge psychological impacts on you. This encounter made me very happy.
     The rodent induced euphoria was short lived however. About a mile later I was on less technical single track and was able to look more forward than down. As I ran I spotted something small in the air about 10-15 feet directly in front of me and it was coming right at my face... fast! It all happened too fast to process or physically react for that matter but not a millisecond after I saw it, it was now inches from my face. Disaster seemed imminent. I braced for impact but at the last moment it veered out of my path and was gone forever. I had just avoided a head on collision with a small bat. And no it was not a hallucination just in case you are wondering. It did leave me frazzled though to say the least.
     Confused and on edge I trudged on towards the campsite. As I popped out of the woods and towards the campsite I started looking for my folks. There was a shadowy figure I somehow recognized as my Dad! It was great to see him and I gave him a big hug but in my weary state I accidentally struck him in the head with my arm. He laughed it off and we walked together towards the start/finish where my mom was waiting. I hugged her as well while John filled up my haggard little plastic water bottle which had now become a trusted ally in the grand adventure. I actually took a few minutes to catch up with them and go over a few details about the remaining 25 miles. Seeing them made me feel much better and I felt like I was in the home stretch... silly me.

     I said my farewells and got back after on the trail. At this point my feet were trashed so the plan was to walk the first few miles until I crested the climb up Babcock Trail. Once I got up top I attempted to run the flats and downs but to my horror my knees and the soles of my feet were pretty much shot. Let the walking begin. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could still run uphill if the grade wasn't too steep as the impact was minimal to nil. So much for the whole 100 mile concept of walk the ups and run the downs and flats. My brain was pudding by this point and I don't remember much of this lap. In fact there were a few times I think I fell asleep while walking as I had moments where I felt like I was waking up.
     I would finish loop 7 at 3:57 a.m.. As I came stumbling in I looked for my parents only to realize they had gone to sleep. Son of a bitch! Luckily John was there fill my plastic bottle and I chatted with him briefly to get my senses back. He was very motivational and we both agreed that I could walk the last loop and still finish under 24 hours. I thanked him and walked out of camp for the last time. I took solace in the fact that every portion of the trail I now covered would be the last I would see of it. I also had the opportunity to say my goodbyes to all the wonderful volunteers at aid stations 1 and 2. They were so great and were my beacons of salvation after spending so much time alone in the dark.
     I was moving ridiculously slow at this point but I had a watch on and knew every inch of the course by this point. I would make my goal but it would be close. The sun was now coming up and I was able to turn of my lamp. As I emerged from the single track and on to the service road around mile "97.who knows" and I knew the end was near. I hadn't finished but I knew I would at this point. My body was racked so I just made sure to look at the time every couple minutes to ensure I hit my goal. After the two wooden mountain bike bridges at mile 99.5 I came across my mom on the trail holding my dog Kobe. It was really surreal. Apparently John had told my Mom that due to the time he was getting worried. In hindsight though I think he meant worried about me not finishing sub 24 and not actually concerned for my safety. Apparently Gilbert Ondusko had by this point woken up from his victory nap and noticed my mom had her trail running shoes on and suggested she go look for me.
    There was no way I was walking in to the finish. I would muster up some strength from somewhere and grind out some semblance of a trot to the end. I told my mom to run ahead as I didn't want to run ahead of her and finish with her behind me. She took off and I slowly but surely emerged from the woods, trotted through the grass, across the model airplane parking lot, and down the dirt road to the finish. It was over. I had completed my first 100 miler. 4th place in 23:54:52. I shook John's hand, hugged my parents, and then shook hands with Tim who had gotten up to congratulate me. It was a very odd feeling to be done. No tears of joy or jubilation or any of that jazz. Mostly just sheer exhaustion combined with this soft indescribable internal sense of accomplishment. I sat down by the fire for maybe a minute or two before I got back up to make sure I didn't forget to get my buckle. For seasoned 100 milers the buckle is perhaps a trivial item but this was my first so it meant something though I don't know what that something is.

     I said my goodbyes including speaking to both Tim and John about Plain. I had told myself that if I finished Lumberjack in under 24 hours that I would sign up for Plain. At this point I most likely will but I want to see how quickly my body recovers as Plain is only 3 weeks after CCC100 and I would like to me semi healthy before subjecting myself to that insanity. I crawled in to the back of the van and quickly fell asleep only occasionally waking up until I arrived back at my folks house.
    When I got inside I proceeded to eat a bean and rice burrito and two big vegan cupcakes from Cupcake Royal before lying on the sofa to watch the final round of The Masters. I got to see my favorite golfer and fellow southpaw Bubba Watson win his second green jacket with ease before I promptly passed out. It was a good weekend.