HARDROCK 100 RACE REPORT 7/16/21
What is Hardrock?
This race is different for many reasons. It is not just another race or another 100. To most ultrarunners, it is THE race. I have always viewed it this way. I discovered trail running in 2009 and discovered this race about the same time. It immediately was at the top of the list. Every December the race holds a lottery, and 140 lucky runners are selected. To enter the lottery, one must run a qualifying race to apply. Luckily the list of qualifiers was the same list of races that I wanted to run anyways so I started off by applying to HURT100 in 2011. The qualifying races are other "mountainous" 100's around the nation and the world. Hardrock is very rugged and remote, so the qualifiers help make sure people are somewhat self-sufficient in the mountains. Aside from the route finding being an issue, the time spent between aid station can be very long and the weather can make dramatic changes very quickly.
Pre-race thoughts
It had been about 10 years (since my first time running the HURT100) since I've really been out of my comfort zone. Each race is tough in its own way, but I always "expected" to finish every single one. Hardrock was a little different; I knew that I had to take it seriously and be smart or else the mountains would destroy me. I was also concerned with the total time it would likely take me to complete this race, it had been 10 years since I have been out on a course for more than 26 hours. The idea of the second day, and possibly a 2nd night, was very new to me.
Strategy
I had a different pacing approach this race. With 13 mountain passes totaling over 33,000 ft of climb and an equal amount of descent, I knew it was going to take its toll. A huge difference with this race, compared to others, is the fact that the climbs and descents last for 3,000-6,000 ft and around 3-9 miles at a time. That is more mountainous than any other race I have done, and far more mountainous than where I train on the east coast. I broke my game plan into 3 sections: climbs, flats, and descents. As far as the climbs, it is what it is. No easy way to get up them, just do what I can, and not burn myself up too bad. Flats I planned to run as efficiently as possible but if I was struggling, I would walk when needed. I did not want to force a run if I was struggling so I didn't burn myself up. Descents was what I really focused on. The key word I kept telling myself was "efficient". How to get down the mountain the most efficient way possible. If I felt my legs burning too much, I planned to walk a switchback or pause to let the blood flow catch back up. I knew that the make or break of my race was how long I would have "downhill legs". The moment I was forced to walk downhills, was the moment that my time goal would be out the window, and the rest of the race would be miserable. I assumed it was inevitable, but I would try and prolong it as long as possible.
Goals / Expectations
I'll be 100% honest with this one. For the most part, I did not have a time goal. My goal was to enjoy the race as much as possible. I've waited 10 years to run this race, so I wanted to savor every pass, every view, every aid station. This race has some iconic spots, so I wanted to really soak it in. However, if you know me, you know I did have a time goal in the back of my mind as well. I have always been very competitive with myself in races and my own time goals I have in mind. I have never cared about place or what other people are doing. It has always been me against the course. 36 hours was my best "guess". I knew if things got ugly 40+ hours was possible. But if things went really well, 32 hours was possible as well. I created pace charts ranging from 30 hours to 40 hours for my family / crew and for myself. I wanted to know what kind of pace I was on to mentally prepare myself, and to plan ahead regarding 2nd night light source.
Actual pre-race
I arrived in the San Jauns two weeks before the race. I never thought in a million years that this would be possible, but let’s just say my wife was dead set on this happening. Having the time to acclimate and familiarize myself with the course was an absolute game changer. Training in the months leading up to the race went so so. I was able to get in what I needed but my legs never felt fresh, and I never had any speed. My main goal when I arrived in Colorado was to really take care of myself and get fresh. I made the 32-hour drive in two days and arrived in Lake City at midnight. The next morning, I met my friend Matt, and we tackled the double 14'er redcloud / sunshine peak loop. This was a great "shock" to my body and jumpstarted the acclimation process. The next few days consisted of hitting various parts of the course and getting comfortable as I familiarized myself with the area. With 11 days to go before the race, I tackled the Handies peak section of the course. Everything clicked with that run, and I felt great. I called Kelly afterwards and told her in a very plain and simple way "I feel good. I am going to have a good race". For the first time in a long time, I had energy and I felt strong. My excitement for the race skyrocketed.
Actual race
Enough of the boring stuff. Let’s talk about how the race actually went. The energy and excitement surrounding this race was insane. I felt like all the runners were just as excited, weather they had run Hardrock before or not. With it being canceled two years in a row, everybody was excited to get back out there. Before we knew it, we were off and headed out of Silverton and toward our first climb up Little Giant pass. The streets were lined with spectators and the energy was so fun! I kept telling myself to take it easy, and be efficient. I was able to run with my friend Nick for the first two miles which was nice. Toward the top of the climb, I found myself in my usual spot (that gap between the lead pack and everybody else). I was glad to be by myself for the first big downhill because I did not want to get sucked into a certain pace. I wanted to take it easy and not have any burning at all. Made it to Cunningham, mile 9.2 right at 2:25 race time. I saw my family, grabbed a clif bar and GU for the next section. So far, so good.
Cunningham (mile 9.2) to Sherman (mile 28)
I left Cunningham knowing that this would be my longest stretch without seeing my wife or any family. From Cunningham to pole creek was pretty uneventful and I just focused on nutrition and being efficient. I ran with a guy named Brian from NY and Mike Wardian mainly. We all chatted, and it helped the miles tick by. Leaving pole creek my energy started to fade for the first time (around mile 20). I start off every race drinking straight water without taking salt pills. That way when things go sideways, I know which side of the fence I'm on. The first storm came in around Caterac Lake. The wind picked up, and it dropped about 30 degrees. I put on my jacket but basically left the storm almost immediately with sideways rain and wind behind me. The descent down into Sherman was fine but not great. My nutrition was still a little off, and I did not have a ton of energy. I was not worried at all because I knew I would figure it out. I arrived at the mile 28 aid station at around 8:10 clock time which according to past results was about a 37–38-hour pace. I was a little disappointed to be behind pace, but I knew I could rally.
Sherman to Grouse Gulch (mile 42)
I left Sherman aid station with a massive quesadilla, and the sun shining again. At this point I was headed toward the high point of the race which is Handies peak at just over 14,000 ft. It was midafternoon and I figured this would be the most likely climb to get caught in a storm. The 3.5-mile climb to burrows park was uneventful. I filled up my bottles and bladder knowing that I had a tough section ahead of me, and statistically the second longest section timewise. I would say the climb up Handies was one of two low points of the race. It is a 5 mile / 4,000 ft climb that seemed to take forever. I was dead set on getting back on track to my 36-hour pace chart so I needed to get to Grouse by 12:40 clock time. My goal was to get to the peak by 11:10 to allow myself an hour and a half to do the 4.8-mile descent. The final 1000 ft of the climb is steep and tough. You are over 13,000 ft at this point, and it gets really steep and technical. I remember seeing the final pitch for the first time, and it was a shot to the gut to see people way up where I was headed. I told myself that it was going to be tough, but this mountain ain’t gonna climb itself, so I got to work. During that final mile the rain was coming down, so I had my jacket on and my hood up. All the surrounding peaks had much harder storms and we did not have lightning above us, so I felt lucky. I reached the summit at 11:13 clock time, my hood was up to block the rain and we were basically in the clouds. I thought to myself, “now this is Hardrock” with a big smile on my face. I took about a 20 second pause to savor the moment and started the downhill. As soon as I started running, I was surprised and in total shock that my legs and energy was back! I started running downhill and I felt absolutely perfect and fresh. The descent was fun and as I crested the american basin / grouse pass, I could see sun in the distance. I was excited and feeling good. I was about to see my family for the first time in 33 miles and pick up my wife who would run with me the 14 mile stretch to Ouray. I arrived at Grouse at around 12:30 clock time and pumped to be back on my 36-hour pace.
Grouse Gulch to Ouray (mile 56)
It was great seeing my family and an old friend, Buddy Teaster, as well. I grabbed my headlamp, flashlight, and my wife. As we set out, the sun came out and we were feeling great! I did not care what our pace was at all this section. I wanted to experience this race with my wife no matter what so this was special. We started making our way up the comparatively gentle climb, and I told Kelly all the details how my day was going. I had a ton of energy, and I was excited for the miles ahead. As we made our way up the climb the sun was setting and it was spectacular. At the top of the 5-mile climb we took a moment to appreciate everything and get ready for the long 9-mile descent into Ouray. We really soaked it in, and it was a moment we will always remember. As we were approaching engineer aid station, I was telling Kelly I wanted to stick to GU, and how “normal” food wasn’t sitting well. We arrived with a little bit of sunlight left. They asked me if I wanted a brisket / potato burrito and without hesitation I took one for the road. So much for not eating real food. At this point we were still in the high alpine landscape but soon approaching the rockier landscape of Ouray. We turned on our headlamps right at mile 50 and I made sure we were paying attention as the trail got narrower. We decided to walk the infamous cliff section of bear creek trail and enjoy it. We were still feeling good and loving every second of it. We soon got to the dinner plate switchbacks so I knew the highway crossing was in about a mile. We eventually arrived in Ouray and Kelly’s pacing duties were over. The website has 36 hour pace arriving in Ouray at 11:17pm and we arrived at 10:57 I believe. Still on track, and still feeling good!
Ouray to Chapman (mile 82)
We left Ouray at exactly 11:05pm and started the 11 mile climb up to Virginius Pass (Krogers Canteen). I was now with my new found pacer, Jason, for the night. My original pacer fell through on Tuesday when he had an accident earlier in the week and hurt his ribs. The same day, Kelly and I were running in grouse gulch and ran into Jason. We chatted for a bit and as soon as we left, Kelly said you should’ve asked him to pace. It must have been fate because we ended up running into him the next day in town. He agreed to pace, and the rest is history. We made our way up camp bird and I was still feeling great. We had a pretty good hike going but had to pause for a second to let a porcupine pass in front of us that was the size of a bear. I did not want one of those quills launched at me, so I kept my distance. Energy and legs felt like I had just started. We arrived at governor basin aid station after about 8 miles of steady climb. I chatted with an old friend at the aid station, shoved a whole piece of cake in my mouth and marched on toward Virginius. I am not sure which is steeper, this or grant swamp pass but this climb is no joke. As we approached the steep part, I told Jason to keep his distance or stay to the side of me due to falling rocks and boulders. This climb is three separate pitches that get steeper and steeper. As we crested the second basin, we could see the aid station for the first time. Seeing the lights up ahead was incredibly cool, but also very intimidating at the same time. At this point it was almost 3 in the morning and all you could see is a black wall and the aid station which looked like a star. We made our way up the final pitch, slowly but surely. You really had to pick the correct line or else you would slide back down with each step. All I had was my dim headlamp since I needed my hands for this part and didn’t have my flashlight. We crested the top and it was a great feeling to have that climb behind me, and to be at the most iconic aid station in all of ultrarunning. As much as my stomach didn’t want it, I felt like I had to partake in the traditional tequila shot, or else I wasn’t a true hardrocker. Thankfully it was a pretty small one so it sat fine. Tequila, coke, and grilled cheese. Perfect ingredients for a successful decent down to telluride. The first mile of this decent is a little sketchy and slow but the remaining four miles into town are runnable. My downhill legs felt fine, but I was still trying to save them and not blow them up. This decent was tough because every single mile drops about 1000 feet, so you never get a break. We were moving good and making up time every section. I always have goals each section to keep me motivated and moving. We left Kroger's Canteen right at 3am so I told Jason that 4:30 would be a good goal to get to Telluride. We popped out onto the streets at 4:10am and arrived in the aid station at 4:15. My good friend Chris from TX was there, and it was great to see him. I was there for about 10 minutes and left with my headlamp and flashlight for the final hour darkness. This is historically the longest section of the race. Distance wise and time wise. It is almost 10 miles with the first 7 climbing up to Wasatch basin and over Oscars pass (San Jauquine Ridge between Telluride and Ophir). I would say this was my low point of the race. The climb is long. Very long. And it hits at tough part of the race. At this point, it was very overwhelming how many miles I still had left. About halfway up the climb the sun came up and I turned off my headlamp. Such a relief and new energy to be in the daylight again. On fresh legs, this might be one of the coolest trails / hikes of the race. The climb has so many different sections and basins. Each with its own waterfall, river, and/or wildflowers. We were moving good and passed a few runners. According to past results, at my pace, it takes runners an average of about 4-4 ½ hours to do this section. We left Telluride at 4:25am so my goal was 8:30am for Chapman. We crested the top of Wasatch basin and it took us a second to find the trail. It was at the bottom of a snow field. I wasn’t sure of the best route, but the snow picked my route for me. I took one step on it and immediately fell to my butt and started sliding down out of control. It pulled my shorts up so high and the sharp ice gave me about 1000 cuts up my legs and ass. For a second, I thought it ripped my shorts and that I was going to have to finish the race bare assed. That would have made for a good story! We made our way over to Oscars pass about a quarter mile over and I was so glad to be done with that climb. I was pretty gassed from that climb so when I looked across the valley to see grant swamp pass for the first time, it was extremely deflating. It looked like a wall and there was no way I could get up it. As we started the relatively short decent down into chapman my legs wanted nothing to do with the boulders. The first couple switchbacks are nothing but basketball size boulders and with 80 miles on your legs, it sucks. This was my most painful decent of the race. To be honest, it was my ONLY decent that I had pain. There was no easy way to get down it. It was steep enough that applying the brakes hurt but going too fast hurt as well. We made our way into one of the most badass aspen forest I’ve ever seen and into Chapman aid station at 8:05am. During nighttime of 100’s I personally don’t take caffeine or do anything to fight the fatigue. I have always had good luck just letting it happen and then regrouping once the sun is up. Since it was morning time and my body’s natural coffee time, I drank some coffee to get the day started off right. At this point, I was flirting with the 34-hour pace, and I was pumped. This concluded Jason’s pacing duties, and it was the start of my finish. I thanked Jason for keeping me awake, keeping me on course, and making those 26 miles much more enjoyable than they would have been if I were alone. It is very easy to fall into a relaxed and slow pace when you’re by yourself at night. He kept me distracted and pushing.
The finish (Chapman mile 82 to the finish)
I left chapman at 8:15am with the 34-hour goal in mind. I was fully expecting to hit a massive low point and / or a death march at some point. So, to me, a 34-hour finish was a good goal at this point. I had two mountain passes, 18 miles to go, and still a ton of energy. My legs were moving great, and I was ready to tackle this section. Maybe I was a little too pumped because I blew through the very first turn not even a quarter mile from the aid station. The trail seemed worn and there were footprints, so I assumed I was on the correct trail. After about half a mile I came to an intersection with no markers. I thought it was odd, but I was heading the correct direction and I would still see signs of foot traffic, so I kept going like an idiot. About another quarter mile goes by and suddenly, the trail bends to the left and starts heading back toward the aid station. I knew something wasn’t right and the footprints were facing the other direction. I had been carrying my phone in my pack for 83 miles at this point for emergency use only. I do not wear a GPS watch, so I did not have the course on my watch like a lot of other runners. I opened backcountry navigator pro (which is what I’ve used for training and mapping purposes for years), and I saw that I was supposed to be about 700 ft above where I was at this point. I typically can navigate terrain extremely well because I study maps, so I was a little disappointed in myself getting off course. The intersection was well marked, and I did everything you are not supposed to do. We’ll blame it on fatigue. I made my way back to the correct trail but wasted about 25 minutes. I was feeling great and started passing all the same people that I passed on the previous climb. The next few miles were annoying and technical. I crested the final boulder field and was staring at a wall, also known as grant swamp pass. This was my second to last climb and mentally I wanted to get it over with so bad. I had about 85 miles on my legs at this point, so this is probably one of the most intimidating sights in all of trail running. I took a deep breath and started making my way up. I found a good line that hugged the left side so I would use the rocks to help pull myself up. It is steep and loose. If you didn’t step on a rock or in somebody else’s footprint, you would slide back down. I stayed focused and determined. Once I crested the top, I was anxious to see the infamous island lake for the first time in my life. It is probably the most iconic spot on the course, and one of the prettiest views I’ve ever had in the mountains. It was truly amazing.
This is the turning point of my race. This was the moment that I stood there and soaked it all in, I took a deep breath, and got focused. I had 15 miles to go; two descents and one climb. At this point it was 10am and I was still feeling great. Good enough that I moved my goal from sub 34 hours to sub 33 hours. According to past results it takes people at my pace about 4 hours to get from KT to the finish. I figured if I make it to KT in one hour, that gives me 4 hours to get to the finish for a 33 hour finish. I made the decision to say screw any sort of pacing strategy and just let it rip. I was no longer going to take the downhills easy and try to save my legs. I figured that if I blow up, I am close enough to finish that I’ll just walk it in. I had been looking forward to this moment all race and purposely saved my iPod for this moment. I put in my earphones, said goodbye to island lake and started the decent into KT (mile 85-mile 89). As I started the downhill, my legs went from feeling good to feeling great. The music gave me a new energy and I was the most jacked I’ve ever been during a race. I was heading downhill as if my legs were 100% fresh. It was a little annoying because I was feeling so good, but this section had a down tree to crawl over about every 50 feet. I hammered it down the Kamm Traverse into the aid station right on time. I was focused and determined. I arrived at 11:03am, filled my bottles, grabbed 3 gels, and was gone within a minute.
One more climb to go. One more mountain ahead of me. I was in disbelief at how good I felt. I had three hours and fifty-five minutes to go sub-33. At this point I had done the math several times for a sub-32, but quickly dismissed it. I knew according to past years, very few people had ever made it to the finish from KT in under 3 hours. I felt so good that I wanted to give it a go. I told myself I needed to get to the top of the final climb (7.5 to go) by 30:20 clock time to give myself any sort of chance. I was hammering the climb and running a lot of the uphills for the first time all race. For some reason my breathing never increased too much. I made it to the top of the climb around 30:30 clock time and I knew that there was no way I could make it to the finish in an hour and a half. Once again, I gave up on the sub-32-hour goal. I started my final decent with thunder cracking all around me, but never on top of me. My downhill legs were better than ever, and I did the math once again for a 32-hour finish. I arrived at Putnam aid station with 1:08 to make it to the finish. It is about 6 miles to the finish and mostly downhill. Once again, I filled my bottles, grabbed 2 gels, and hit the trail. I gave myself a little pep talk and told myself to leave it all out on the course. I wanted to come away with no regrets. I picked up the pace another notch and was moving quicker than when I did this section during training. At this point, I will not be able to put into words the feelings I had. I can honestly say this was the sweetest moment of my running career and possibly my life. I had never experienced adrenaline like this and was trying to keep the tears at bay so I could see the trail. This section is somewhat technical, but my legs had no problem navigating the boulders. I wanted to make it to the river with 25 minutes to spare for the final 2.3 miles to the finish. I was moving very quick, and ran into spectator named Anna. She was out there waiting for her friend Darcy to come through. I thought I was much closer, but she told me I still had over a mile to the river. It was a little deflating and I basically convinced myself that the 32-hour goal wasn’t happening. At this point I was absolutely giving it all I had and moving at about a 7-minute pace on the smooth sections. I made it to the river and saw my family all there. I wasn’t sure if they would be there or not since I was so far ahead of pace. I had 23 minute to get to the finish to break 32. I made my way through the river as quickly as possible and let them know my goal. The final 2.3 is about half uphill and half downhill. I ran 100% of it giving it all I had. At this point I assumed I was going to miss it by 2-3 minutes, but I didn’t care. I wanted to come away with no regrets. I made it to the never-ending uphill gravel road to the shrine monument which signified my final turn toward town. This uphill part was tough, and I was breathing as if I was doing a speed workout. I made it to the final turn down into town with 4 minutes to go. I wasn’t sure how long it was to the finish, so I didn’t know if it was going to happen or not. I was in a full sprint and made it to the street and could see the finish line crowd. I looked at my watch and it read 31:57:30, and for the first time I realized that I was going to break 32 hours. This was one of the most emotional quarter miles of my life. As I approached the finish line, I saw all my family and friends. I gave some high fives and rounded the final corner to see the rock for the first time. This is the moment I’ve dreamt of for 10 years. This is the moment that has kept me up at night for all these years. I always imagined it being special but had no idea it was going to be this emotional.
I entered the finish chute at 31:58:20 and kissed the rock.
I made it from KT to the finish in 2:56, a pace that has only been done a handful of times. I was in total shock and could not believe it was over. Kelly ran over to me with tears that I’ve never seen on her face. We hugged and I received my finisher medal from Dale.
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