Crampy Return to the Diablo Trails Challenge 50k

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I had two musculoskeletal concerns going into the race on Saturday, April 21st:

First, putting our Thule bicycle rack into the hitch of my Rav4 last weekend, I tweaked my left mid to left back.  It was bad enough that during the bike ride I couldn't straighten my back, and I was in a fair amount of pain for the next 3 days.  It was still pretty sore Saturday morning, though no more wincing when I bent or twisted.

starting our bike ride at Cesar Chavez Park in Berkeley, with huge inflatable dog in background

Second, during the night before the race, sometime around 2 am, I managed to cramp my right calf.  Random charlie horse, I woke up with a scream, managed to get it relaxed in about half a minute and then fell asleep.  (My wife however, was wide awake and went downstairs to answer emails for half an hour, poor thing.)  I knew then it would be sore and tight in the morning (and it was).

Later reflecting on why and how it happened then (this happens to me while in bed probably 2-3 times a year), I came up with the following possibilities (mostly boring, so feel free to skip this section):

• I didn't run at all the last 3 days (an unintended complete taper), which I think makes me tighten up.
• There was a running exception of sprinting down our street chasing my younger son, who really wanted to get on his scoot bike after we got home from a haircut.  I suggested he was more than ready to do a real bike, and he went for it, but I wasn't convinced he knew how to stop or control himself.  A big milestone for him!  (He's the one on the left the photo above-- for long bike rides, I think we'll keep him on the Trailabike.)
• Friday evening we were at friends, I swam some sprints in the pool.  No stretching afterwards.
• Then I sliced artisan cheeses while standing for more than 15 minutes.

Saturday was forecast to be the hottest day of the year, with temperatures approaching 90 in the area, so the possibility of severe cramping, even without these already injures muscle groups, was fairly high.

I arrived earlier than I had to, so Mike Weston could give me a HURT 100 license plate holder that he wasn't going to use.  I got one last January from the race, but I have two cars.  Thanks, Mike!

Mike giving me his license plate holder

I didn't make it on the first bus.  A young guy wearing a Sportiva jersey got on, so I greeted him and he sat with me for the ride from where the race would finish at Castle Rock Park to the start at Round Valley Regional Preserve.  This young, free-spirited and well-travelled Mountain Running Teammate is attempting an Appalachian Trail speed record this summer, so today's race was more of a fun run for which his training hasn't been geared.  Good luck to Sean!

Sean Blanton deboarding right before me, photo by Jonathan Fong

In contrast to 3 years ago when it was freezing so many including this blogger opted to stay on the bus as long as possible, the temperature was perfect outside.  I had some non-leg-related running issues (actually a third concern), and used the bathroom twice after once at Castle Rock.  Luckily, this was not a problem during the race.

Beryl Anderson of Save Mount Diablo (far left below) asked me to talk about the race and what Mount Diablo means to me.  I blabbered something incomprehensible for several minutes.  She told me what I said was great, but I suspect she was just being polite, and that if I ever see myself on YouTube, I will be embarrassed.

(If pressed for time, just read the last section of the race)

Start to Morgan Territory Road crossing (mile 8.2)  Distances are per the website, but per my measurements not fully accurate.

Different route than the first year, and no mud.  In 2009 I took the lead from the start and never gave it up.  This time, Sean sprinted ahead of everyone, hollering for intentional goofball effect before dropping back.

photos by Jonathan Fong for Brazen Racing

Tim Long in orange Inside Trail shirt

Seven guys if I counted right were ahead of me after the first quarter mile or so, and I couldn't keep up.  Tim Long continued to pull farther ahead.  I knew from his blogging that he was training hard (if not high in mileage) and my bets were that he would win the race, barring some fast unrecognized sub-2:30 marathoner running his first 50k.

Lauri Abrahamsen and winner Tim Long of ITR

Whenever I'm at one of these less top-heavy races and I'm in the lead pack with a bunch of guys, I usually count on about half of them including myself appropriately being up there and about half running faster than they should, eventually to drop back. This thinning out happened sooner than I'd expected.  I soon found myself with another guy in 2nd and 3rd, Mike from Hawaii, and we spent most of the next 10 miles or so talking.

photo by Jonathan Fong

Living next to the steep trails on which the HURT 100 course is held, it was no surprise he was a strong climber; I complimented him on being a strong climber for someone relatively heavy, and apparently I wasn't the first to notice this. Mike grew up in Pleasanton and ran cross country at UC Davis before injuries made him switch to bicycling.

Morgan Territory Road Crossing to Old Finley Road (mile 15.6)

The guy in 4th was about 1-2 minutes behind us when we looked back early in the ascent. Before the next summit (and highest elevation of the course at 2303 feet), Mike started to pull away and  I couldn't keep up.  He hammered the successive downhills.  In this section, there were great views of the twin peaks of Mount Diablo and North Peak to the right; he running gracefully in his bright blue jersey in the foreground added to the aesthetics.

I saw Tim Long coming back from the Finley aid station on the one out of back section of the course.  He had about at 10 minute lead and was looking strong and relaxed.  I caught up with Mike at the aid station; he had to spend extra time there to duct tape close his hydration pack bladder.  His girlfriend Pauline who was crewing for him was supposed to be there to switch him out a bottle, but as I explained, you can't park even at the trailhead, so probably 2 miles to the aid station, explaining why she didn't make it.

Mike and Pauline at the finish

Finley Road to Horseshoe South Gate (mile 23.0)

Mike caught up with me quickly, so I figured he would get back in 2nd again, but he ended up following me.  After the place where I helped clear a tree and reroute the trail 3 years ago, we entered the single track where Kirk Boiseree and I hacked and lopped branches as part two of the trail work.  This 1.5+ mile section was completely overgrown with poison oak, jutting into the trail at all levels.  Had this section been downhill, avoidance would have been more than futile.  Since we were running uphill, it was only futile.  I was pretty focused on trying to keep the urashiol allergen off my legs and arms and face.  On the bus, Sean revealed his pro-single track anti-fire road trail philosophy; I realized for reasons such as Bay Area poison oak, I'm not so dogmatic.  After this section, the trail got wider, and I slowly started to pull away from Mike, despite the heat and the realization I was behind on my fluids.

I was carrying a 24 ounce bottle and drinking a couple of extra cups of liquids at the aid stations, but soon figured out that I was under-hydrating.  I tried to pee to help assess my hydration and only got minimal output.  I started feeling a little weak, and realized I wasn't eating enough, but as my bottle emptied halfway through the split couldn't just down a another gel.

Approaching the aid station at Horseshoe Gate, Mike's girlfriend Pauline offered me some water, which I accepted while not recognizing her but then got paranoid this was cheating.  There was the loud whirring of a medical evacuation helicopter, which was both annoying and exciting (even as an ER doc, seeing emergencies in the field is still an unusual enough occurrence for me.)  The story later was it was a bicyclist that crashed and not a runner passing out from heat stroke.

Horseshoe South Gate to Burma Road North Gate (mile 28.1)
Mostly downhill on the rocky fire roads.  I no longer saw anyone behind me.  Not only my calves but my shins started to tighten up probably because I wasn't plantar-flexing my ankles to save my calved, so I had to hold back my pace on a good section on which I would normally try to hammer out some really fast splits.  Then a short uphill before the single track Buckeye Trail, where I was feeling wafts of heat rising from the ground.  Amazingly, no ticks jumped on me here in the tall grass.

Jonathan Fong

by Jonathan Fong

This split was supposed to be 5.1 miles, but it was 5.7 on my Garmin Forerunner.

Burma Road to finish
Downhill in the beginning, where and when I saw Kirk Boiseree (with whom I did trail work for the course three years earlier), who was running in the opposite direction to pace his buddy Errol "the Rocket" Jones.

"Rocket" Errol and Cap'n Kirk post-race

The downhill became less steep after the first mile of the three mile split.  There was then a series of (maybe 8 to 10) stream crossings.  I was amused to see a few of the half marathoners actually trying hard not to get their feet wet.  I ran through the streams, which felt great.  My pace was picking up.  I made an arbitrary goal of trying to finish in 5:10, though I wasn't quite sure how much longer I had since I had figured out the race map's distances weren't completely accurate.

A mile from the finish, as I bounded up from what turned out to the last stream crossing, my left hamstring suddenly cramped.  I hadn't been feeling much in my hamstrings, but I immediately knew it was from my efforts all race to spare my calves on the uphills.  I tried to breathe and relax as I staggered and hobbled for about a minute, aware that more likely than not, someone was a few minutes behind me.  Ugh-- if this got worse, it could take me half an hour and several places to get to the finish.

Fortunately there were more significant uphills, even short ones, and I was able to relax my spasming hamstring and other muscle groups, and ease back to a slow but non-catastrophic 9 minute per mile pace.

approaching the finish, photo by Allen Lucas

I had enough time (5 1/2 minutes) to get to my drop bag and photograph Greg Benson from SF, finishing 3rd overall.  Maybe a new tradition for me starting with Chabot in February-- try to take finishing photos of the person after me, then go and eat.  (Greg was the one close behind Mike and me around mile 9, so he kept as consistent a pace as I did.)

Great massage from this guy.  Mark Callaway (of The Specific Chiropractic Center)

Great food spread.

Free medal engraving (text to your liking) for 50k finishers (I barely found out about this).  Pretty cool.

Christin typing in Kevin Otoole from Roseville's info to custom engrave his medal

the back of mine, medal front at right.  slick.

1st overall the 1st time I ran it, 2nd the 2nd time.  Next time I run this, I guess I should be happy to place 3rd.

Honestly, though, I would rather have more people run this race.  It's a fantastic, epic course, with amazing views, and superbly managed and volunteer supported.  I would rather have more people, front packers included, run this race to increase support for Save Mount Diablo, even if it results in my finishing out of the top 10.

Thank you volunteers-- you were all great!
This was my first run ever put on by Brazen Racing-- quite impressed.

my GPS recording  (course still long-- at least a 51k.  though long is okay)

results

race website (Brazen Racing)
Save Mount Diablo -- thanks for protecting these trails over the past four decades.  Ultra / trail runners (among others) all owe your organization.

prior blog posts regarding this year's Diablo Trails 50k race:
reasons for running it
photographic preview

Okay, this is it.  Two 50k races, 1 50k fat-ass and 1 marathon I wasn't racing.  Not exactly the optimal build-up to my year's first 100 miler three weeks from this race.  Time to train is going to be dismal for the next several weeks.  But what to do?  Let's see if I'm ready.....

Chabot 50k-- New Problem on Familiar Trails

La Sportiva, who I am happy to report has renewed my sponsorship so I can start my 4th straight year with them, decided in January to partner with the newly formed Inside Trail Racing.   So amongst at least four out-of-area 100 milers and three PAUSATF ultras, I am looking forward to running several ITR races this upcoming year.  Chabot, very close to my house, presented a great opportunity to get in some maximum-intensity trail running before heading to Tahoe for a week-long emergency medicine educational conference (as well as some skiing and boarding).

It's been an unusually dry winter in Northern California.  taken earlier this month.  not part of the course.

Lake Chabot (officially Anthony Chabot and Lake Chabot Regional Park) is in my town, Castro Valley.  You'd think I run here more than anywhere, but actually, due to my commute, I more often run the trails of Five Canyons and Garin / Dry Creek parks.

Still, I know these trails as well as anyone.  So there was no excitement about running in a new or seldom visited place.

But I was very looking forward to the social-- and the competitive-- aspects.

As Bay Area trail races go, I knew most of this course would be relatively flat and untechnical.  I thought this would be a good opportunity to break out my Skylite 2.0's.  I felt I didn't need the deep lugs of the Crosslites (now in a 2.0 version), Raptors or Wildcats in which I usually train and race.  I admit to having never tried the original Skylites, or having run in my new pair of 2.0's.  I wore them around the house the day before the race.  I knew they would work.

Skylite 2.0

Since I live so close, I was taking my casual time in the morning, goofing with the kids.  I even unloaded the dishwasher, wasting more than a minute trying to frame this shot to prove I was contributing to the upkeep of the house.  (Depending on the angle, I find it rather tricky to take some self portraits with the iPhone).

I intended to arrive early to get my younger son's soccer ball

back from Ben, an ultrarunner doing this race, who is going to be my older son's competitive league soccer coach this year.

However, I noticed it was already past 8 and less than 30 minutes to the start and I hadn't left yet.

I wasn't anywhere near the front of the pack when the race started, so had to make my way through a crowd of people, but there were lots of fast people (mostly running the 20 and 30k races) that sped way ahead.

On the East Shore Trail I chatted with Franz Dill, who just moved to this part of the Bay Area

 and Eric Wilson from the Oakland hills.

Two photos taken on other days on the east side of the lake:

shot in 2003 while successfully encouraging my then future wife to jog around the lake in preparation for her first half marathon, was cancelled due to wildfires, after which she lost her already scant motivation to complete a half marathon

After dumping Eric, I was slowly passed by three Pamakids guys in their green and white uniforms running the 30k and a female who I eventually figured out was running the 20k.

I had gotten it into my head that I *might* be winning this race.

Prior I had asked RD Tim Long what fast people were registered.  He said Gary Gellin was running the 30k, so it was just me.  However, I knew that he probably didn't recognize all the names and that there would be a lot of last minute registrations after PCTR cancelled the Pacifica 50k race that was supposed to be held the same day.

Mr. Gellin, who would finish the 30k in 2:00:11, then two weeks later set the new course record (not just the masters record, but the overall record) for Way Too Cool 50k

I later found out there were already two guys way ahead of me.  Phil Shaw, who wins lots of PCTR races, but whom I've never met because I think he's long gone every time I finish.  And this guy, whom I met at a PCTR race 1-2 years back, but had forgotten his name.

Jason Perez, 2nd, 4:04:42
This kid wasn't even born when I got my driver's license.

The first time around included a 5+ mile shorter loop in the northern part of the park.

photo by ITR

At some point during this section, I started feeling tight in my left quad.  While sitting 15 straight hours working from home the previous day, I had minimally stretched all my leg groups but managed to ignore my quads.  My pace  I made a mental note to stretch them out at the next aid station.  However the volunteers there were so efficient in filling up my bottle while I focused on downing a Cliff Shot and grabbing a couple of Cliff Bloks, that I forgot.

Not a problem, until a couple of miles later.  Ron Little, whose name I didn't recognized either though I should have, caught up with me and we chatted some.  He and one of his training partners, Jennifer Pfeifer, a former Olympic Trials marathoner, were using this run as a warm up for Way Too Cool 50k two weeks later.

Franz, Ron, and women's 50k champ Jennifer

I increasingly regretted that not once in the last week had I stretched out my quads.  I stretched everything else out the day before.  But not my quads.

To help me remember this fiasco of quad tightening, I have punished myself by staring at countless images of superheroes and plain regular people stretching their anterior thigh muscles, only a few of which I have downloaded for you to enjoy too.

the real Spider Man, not elite ultrarunner Ian Sharman dressed as Spider Man

note the submissive pose of contrition

I kept meaning to stretch at the next aid station, but the volunteers were so helpful and efficient, and I was so into the racing thing, I kept forgetting.  (My rushing also resulted in my losing a favorite pair of tech fabric gloves.  I took them off at the boathouse aid station at the start/finish, and instead of putting them in my bag, threw them on the blanket next to my bag, effectively giving them to some (presumed) asshole who took them, since they weren't there when I finished.)  My pace during the 2nd loop noticeably slowed a lot-- from 8:02 to 9:46 minutes/mile for the first 5 miles to the first aid station, and from 8:05 to 10:51 (!) for the next 4 miles to the 2nd aid station.  split times  I must use an emoticon:   :(

Although I had anticipated several runners passing me once things started going badly, I believe only one did, but he turned out to be 55 years old.  I wasn't just getting chicked-- I was getting granmped!

A Chris Eide had facebook messaged me prior to the race, wanting to pick my brain about Cascade Crest 100 (link to my first running of that race-- haven't finished my report of last year's).  In my typical flurry of activity right before the race, we didn't get much opportunity to talk.  Even when he caught up to me approaching the lake, I instead complained about my thigh problem, and how I was currently running more slowly than I had at the end of all my Firetrails 50 finishes (with the same final 2.8 miles).  Then he told me that he was running Boston (Marathon) and wasn't trying to run this race too hard.  Without saying it, he was also telling me, "so if I beat you, you are a total loser-pussy."

photo by ITR

Luckily, my thigh had improved enough that I could run the downhills closer to my uninjured potential and get ahead of Chris.  I was able to get back to sub-8 minute miles on the hills of the West Shore Trail and build enough of a lead on him that I could catch my breath, pull my iPhone from my drop bag, and perfectly frame and capture his finish.

Very turn-the-other-cheek of me, don't you think?

The official race timing device had crashed when I came in, but luckily I executed precise Garmin Forerunner button pressing so could give the RDs my time without having to guess.

my recorded GPS map and splits

Apparently, Chris is a half-female hermaphrodite, since he and his wife were sharing their facebook account.  The next two finishers were also women.  Had I not recovered, and instead had finished just 8 minutes slower than I did, I would've been quadruple-and-a-half chicked, which would have been a first and really would've threatened my insecure sense of masculinity.  Like, I only have two balls, right?

race schwag.  Inside Trail has it down.   thanks to the ITR Tims, and all the (maybe too) awesome and fast volunteers!

results

race website
my mostly post-race photos album

roof rack and rear hitch with ski / snowboard adapter, almost ready to roll.  The snow cover at this time was horrible.  Little did I know how much it would dump during the next week.

Midwestern States, Part 3: My Kettle Moraine 100 Mile #3 and 2011 100 Mile Goof #3

This year's Kettle (the first weekend of June) was my third running of this race.  The first was my 2007 epic win over Joe Kulak, which inspired me to start this unsustainable blogging habit.  The second stab was in 2008, when brutal midday heat gave way to lightning, torrential downpours, and nearby tornadoes.

This was also my third 100-mile race this year, after HURT in January and Antelope Island Buffalo Run in March.  I finished those races much more slowly than anticipated.  Two outs, need a hit.

I had a lot of time to get to the race and prepare, so pre-race should have been glitch-free, except
I couldn't find my driver's license 2 hours before my flight.  I needed it to rent the car to drive the 2 hours from the West Chicago suburbs to the race.  As it turned out, I had left it in the glove compartment of the car I drove to drop off my family at the airport 5 days earlier, while I ran before  working a couple of long overnight shifts.  I also managed to nuke the entry on my calendar with my hotel reservation information, but eventually figured it out.

It was already hot, lower 90's even as late as 6 pm.  And remember those of you from drier western climates-- the humidity makes the effective temperature much higher.  I tried to last-minute acclimate to the heat and humidity on the drive up by keeping the windows up without any AC or even the vent, but it was unbearable and probably dangerous.  I had to keep the windows opened a crack.

For the last few miles (20 minutes) though I deliberately green-housed.  Stopped at an intersection, clothes soaked with sweat, I tried to capture my the beads of perspiration on my face and general malaise with this self portrait.  (No make-up artist with a spray bottle was used.)

I felt better getting out of the car and seeing the cheery race directors at packet pickup.  Thanks for putting on another great race!

Jason Dorgan, Tim (Timo) Yanacheck, Anne Heaslett

Timo told me I was originally going to get bib #1, but the 2009 course winner and record holder (set that year in ideal weather), Zach Gingerich, had signed up two days earlier.

I woke up before 3 a.m. (1 a.m. Pacific time) and try as I did, I could no get back to sleep.  I nontheless insisted on staying in bed until my alarms went off at 5:20, resulting in my usual late arrival.

One minute before the race started, co-RD Timo instructed us runners to make sure we go over the timing mat at the start.  I think this is probably the first 100-mile race I've run using chip timing-- and totally off my radar.  I ran over to the table with the timing straps and frantically put it around my right ankle about 20 seconds before the race started.

by Jay Smithberger

From yesterday I knew it was going to be hot and muggy, (the same day a young man apparently collapsed and died at the Chicago Half-Marathon relatively nearby), and remembering my mid-race malaise last time, decided to go out slower, and NOT 7:30 minute miles like in years past.

by Jay Smithberger

I ran and talked some with a Harry Harcrow from Colorado.

 lifted from the web.  funny, I don't remember him looking like this.

I thought he was breathing too hard so early in a 100 miler, and concluded he didn't know what he was doing, but later decided I was wrong.

entering Emma Carlin (mile 15.5) photo by Billy Thom

Entering the prairies, I turned on one of my iPods and listened to two podcasts of This American Life.  I figured this would help me keep my mind off the never-ending prairie and the rising heat, but one of them was about some guy who had been molested as a child and how he plotted to seek revenge on the perpetrator-- interesting, but not quite uplifting.

at Scuppernong turnaround (mile 31+), photo by Billy Thom

BEGINNING OF THE END

At mile 41, near the beginning of the uncovered prairie section, which you would think is untechnical, I tripped over a bump or rut in the trail, and fell forward.  My bottle took the first impact, but in the fall, I managed to strain my neck (mostly the back and right), both rear shoulder, right quadriceps and left hamstring.  Nothing too bad-- definitely nothing fractured or snapped, but I had a bad feeling.  A fall like that causing pain and tightness in so many places can haunt and taunt you later.  I had good reason to worry.

A few miles later, my right rear armpit started chafing.  I had taken care to lube my crotch every 10-15 miles, but neglected my armpits, which probably only give me trouble in hot, humid weather.  I abducted my shoulder to prevent further friction, but about half an hour later, my right deltoid went into painful spasm.

I took a while to figure out what to do with my arm to relax it enough to let the pain subside, but I found (and would continue to find) that any position to relieve one pain would trigger or exacerbate another pain.  It turned into a zero-sum game, and a game I was losing.

At the Scuppernong turnaround (mile 31) where I arrived in about 4:57 in 2nd place, there had been several runners coming in only a few minutes after I left, so I was sure that several would catch me, after my fall on the way back.  But apparently most of them were having a tough time, since only one passed me-- Harry, whom I had underestimated and felt bad about writing him off when each of two times he passed me.  I asked him how he felt, and he either said "terrible" or "like shit."  But he was running faster than I.

I didn't know it at the time, but Harry apparently dropped at Nordic (mile 62), so I was in 2nd place. However, I continued to having to work out numerous cramps and pains that kept popping out in my body.  I would run several hundred yards with one arm over my head or behind my back, until that position threatened to cause a new pain.

photos by Cathy Drexler

great aid stations at Kettle-- olives if you want them!

I turned on my light right before Highway 12 aid station (mile 77).   The first year I ran this I turned on the lamp AFTER the aid station going other way (8 miles farther).

The 4 mile trail to the Rice Lake turnaround is probably the most technical of the course.  I had been still trying to run flatter, less technical sections, but soon after leaving Highway 12, my toe kicked a root, I feel lurched forward and my chest and shoulder muscles went into a really bad spasm, probably the worst and largest of the day.  I tried to walk it off, but with my mechanics off, my balance was affected and I felt like continuing would cause my calves to spasm on the climb.  I had to stop and rest against a tree for a couple minutes, pursing my lips as I forcibly exhaled to try to ease the pain.

I decided that besides continuing to grow more painful and less efficient, running was too dangerous to attempt.

Even power walking posed risks, such as straining a leg muscle (both posterior and anterior compartments), especially while ascending and descending stairs or other steeper sections of trail.  The risks weren't imagined-- I had several more painful, close calls.

You should all know me well enough-- though many a runner might decide to quit here, I didn't fell quitting was an option.  Besides, if it was flat and untechnical, I could manage a slow jog.

Lots of runners were passing me, but most were in the relay or the 38 mile fun run which started at 8 pm.  Realizing that my pace was going to be slow, I gave up first on the sub 17 and then the sub-18 goal, and just made aimed to win an age-group award.  So after turning around at Rice Lake aid station (mile 81), I asked everyone coming the other way or from behind which race they were in, and if they were in the 100 mile race, how old they were.  I had no problem getting "granped" by someone over 50 (Paul Schoenlaub, 51, who would finished 2nd overall), but just couldn't let anyone 40-49 pass me.  This was an imperfect research method, as people wear headphones or have no idea what I'm asking.

At Tamarack aid station (mile 92), 38-mile Fun Run participant Dominic Guinta caught up with me.  This was his last long training run before his second Western States (Dom has been extra lucky with the lottery-- some of us who have been running 100 milers years longer have yet to get in...)   Figuring that no awards were being given for placing in the Fun Run, he offered to pace me in, and got me running again.  Thanks again, Dom!

Only 46 finishers out of 131 registered runners and not sure how many starters.  Tough day (and night)!  More than hours over my personal best 4 years ago, but everyone was hurting.  The winner, elite runner Zach Gingerich, finished similarly-- 19 1/2 hours, more than 4 hours over his personal best and course record set two years ago.  I asked him how he felt when I ran into him headed the opposite way at one point, and I think he said what I think Harry said and what I probably said a bunch of times.

 Zach Gingrich setting the course record at Umstead 100 mile in 2010.  unsure of who took this photo

Still, despite nabbing that age-group award and everyone else running relatively slow, the early face plant and subsequent problems constitutes a significant failure to accomplish my original goal.  Though an out that was well worth it.

I'm not complaining.

Thanks again to all the volunteers-- who got me in and out quickly when I was doing well, and who attended to my needs later.  (I couldn't bend over or squat to pick up and open my drop boxes once the cramping started.)

Garmin Forerunner 305 recorded maps (missing a few miles) of my run: 
miles 0-31
miles 31-70
miles 70-100

results

race website

My previous KM 100 Race Reports:
recap of 2007 KM100: "My First Ultra Win Ever"
recap of 2008 KM100: "Sweltering, Scared, but Spared-- Surviving the Kettle Moraine 100 Mile Run from Hell (and My First Title Loss Ever)"

"Midwestern States pseudo-series"

part 1:  McNaughton 150 mile, April 2009
part 2:  Mohican 100 mile, June 2010