Western States 100 2023

The Super Bowl of ultrarunning; I was so forunate to run the race and pumped that I ran a steady, consistent first 100 miler!

Pre-Race

The Western States 100. If you are reading this, you probably know about the history of the oldest 100 foot race in the world. If you don’t, a simple Google of the Wikipedia page or website will suffice. I’ll skip the history and begin with the lottery.

The Western States lottery, which happens every December, decides most of the lucky 300+ runners that will be toeing the line in late June. It is one of the most competitive ultrarunning lottery’s in the world. Runners often wait 5-7 years (I met people that had waited 10 years!) to get into the race, running qualifying races each year to get more lottery tickets. Since I had only recently started running ultras, my plan was to get the process started with the lottery ticket I’d earned at 2022 Twisted Branch 100K.

Dude! You got into Western States!!!

I honestly didn’t even realize it was Western States lottery day on that Saturday in early December. I remember waking up super early and going for a long run in Lynn Woods Reservation in Lynn, MA. That was the first time I had been there and the fire roads were super pretty on that mild morning. I had come home, just in time to catch the second half of the USA vs. Netherlands World Cup R16 matchup while doing my strength workout. I was volunteering later at the TARC Fells Winter Ultra, so I had to hurry up and shower after my strength workout (and after the US lost). Right before showering, I checked my phone and saw a text from my Coach that said “Dude! You got into Western States!!!” I was naturally shocked. The odds of getting in with one ticket are something like <1%. I checked the WSER live lottery to double-check my luck and confirmed that I was in. From then on, it was go time — time to get fit, stay healthy, and arrive at the WSER start line as ready as possible.

General Training Commentary and Minor Injuries

Seven and a half months of hard training awaited me. My age in running years was very low, likely one of the lowest in the race, given I was a very casual runner (max 5-10 miles a week, on and off) throughout high school/college and I had just started real training in October 2021. So I was very nervous about overtraining and getting injured. Despite my concerns, training went super well! From January – March, I was doing the majority of my runs in the mountains, getting in ~60 miles and 10,000ft of elevation gain per week. This was super hard on the body at first, but it adapted. I had also added a cross training component on the bike for an extra 1-2 times per week. In April I had moved back to DC, but was still doing great (albeit flatter) training leading up to Promise Land 50K++. After Promise Land, I had some trouble. I had lots of hamstring pain in the weeks after the race, which I self-diagnosed as a low grade hamstring strain. I had some real down weeks to try to heal the strain, focusing on rolling it out with a lacrosse ball and strengthening with nordic hamstring curls, but it never fully healed. At some point I said “Fuck it” and decided I was going to train through it, while trying to minimize the damage by reducing speedwork/sprints. It didn’t bother me again too much until the week before the race.

In addition to the hamstring pain, two weeks before the race I experienced localized left foot pain in the exact same spot as a previous (non-running related) stress fracture, near the 2nd metatarsal. It reminded me exactly of what I had felt when I had a stress fracture. I was freaking out. The prospect of running 100 miles in pain sounded awful. I also had lots of fun summer plans that involved biking, hiking, and running and did not want to jeopardize those. But I had already made hotel bookings, flights, and had friends coming in to support me at States. I was running no matter what. Luckily, I stress-booked a Podiatrist appointment the Tuesday before the race. After imaging, he confirmed that my pain was not a stress fracture, but likely a pinched nerve from extra bone that grew back during the healing of the previous stress fracture six years ago. Shockingly, the foot pain went away a day later and I was completely fine for the race (all pain is mental… just kidding). The hamstring pain had a resurgence in the few days (which stressed me out) before the race, but was completely fine during the race.

So my training in May and June wasn’t perfect, although I did get my key long runs in, including a training camp weekend in Shenandoah National Park that included a 14 miler followed by a 30 miler with significant vert in each. I knew I had the fitness for Western States, it just wasn’t the perfect block.

Race Atmosphere

Sadly, my first connecting flight to Reno got delayed, which would have caused me to miss my second flight. So I re-booked a flight to San Francisco and drove up with my crew on Thursday night to Olympic Valley. I had to miss Thursday’s festivities, but that was ok. It was good crew bonding at the end of the day.

Friday was just so cool. Jenna (a crew member and good friend from college) and I got there at 8:30am with Lee Jarvis, a local ultrarunner from VA who I shared miles with at Promise Land. He had run Broken Arrow the week before and was hanging out in Olympic Valley for WSER. We had a quick shakeout run with Rabbit, where I got to meet Adam Kimble, an elite runner who gave me great advice on the States course earlier in the year. I also met Todd and Alexis, two VA runners that were out there pacing, who gave me some great advice on how to run your first 100 and on the Western States course.

I then picked up my packet and bib, which was so cool because Western States gives you so much gear! Hoka slides, Goodr sunglasses, and so much more. Everyone volunteering there is SO FREAKING PUMPED for you to run States. Add to that seeing all these ultrarunning elites and legends walking around the grounds looking just like everyone else! It’s the best environment in the sport. I also chatted for awhile with my MA friends, Sophia Farnsworth (who was running the race as her second 100 miler) and Brian Burke (who was pacing her) and some others supporting them (Sam, Gwen, Danny). For such a niche sport, States feels like a party, with all the elites walking around, all the booths with free gear manned by ultrarunning legends, and all the excitement for the race itself.

After the pre-race meeting, we went back, carbo-loaded with some way-too-buttery pasta, had a crew meeting going over all the aid stations, what questions to ask at each aid station, the right gels to give me, etc. Even though my crew was made up of college friends who were not runners, I knew they’d be ready to crush it.

Race Start and the Escarpment

Race morning went perfect. We got up at 3AM, I ate a PB&J with a banana, and we got to the race at about 4:15AM. From there, I had some coffee and meandered to the bathroom to poop (which was successful and I didn’t have to poop again for the entire race!). In there, I saw Courtney Dauwalter giving emotional hugs to her husband and mom. It was clear she was going to go all out that day and that we’d see a special performance.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1… BOOM. And we were off.

The race starts with a 4 mile, 2,500ft of elevation incline up the Escarpment. If you’re not an elite, you have no business running much of this climb. I took it smart, walking most of the way, not feeling much exertement while I could hear heavy breathing all around me. To add to the incentive to walk, the top section was super snowy, even slick in some place.

Despite feeling like I had took it slow, Lee, who had hiked up the Escarpment at 4AM to greet the runners at the top, had some good advice (see video below aha).

The High Country

The high country was very snowy this year. Roughly 15 out of the first 30 had significant snow. I had decided early on that I was going to take it easy, stay in the congo line that would inevitably form, and just have fun in the snow in the beginning. The congo line quickly formed and I found myself towards the front, right behind one of the Female Golden Ticket winners from China! I chatted with her for a bit and with another friend I made Aaron from NC who was doing the Slam (4 of 5 of the original 100 milers in one year) to help pass the miles. The snow was super fun for like 10 miles and we were all glissading down the hills in our sneakers, trying to find the next pink flag to stay on course. After a while though, I was certainly ready to just keep moving. I wasn’t concerned about place or speed, but I had heard coming out of Lyon Ridge, the first aid station, that I was close to the 100th person to come through the aid station. That seemed like a good place to be early on.

I was slightly concerned about timing. I knew the snow covered sections were going to take longer than I expected and my crew would be waiting extra for me at Robinson Flat (mile 30). But everyone I was running around and chatting with mentioned that they wanted to go sub-24. My original goal was sub-20, although that was a bit far fetched. So I was trying to decide if I was going too slow or others were going to fast.

Robinson Flat and Vomit

I had been eating super well for most of the beginning of the race, but when I got to Robinson Flat, I felt like my stomach couldn’t handle more gels. Not a good sign so early in the race. I decided that the likely culprit was electrolytes. So I sat down, switched my shoes out, drank 20oz of water mixed with 1500mg Precision Hydration sodium mixture, 12oz of coke, and kept moving. My crew was on point, making sure I had everything I need and that I didn’t take too long. I had made them wait an extra hour at Robinson, so they were able to see lots of other runners getting aid and quickly learned the aid station craft.

You took down a lot of liquids back there

Immediately upon exiting the aid station, I knew I was going to throw up for the FIRST TIME EVER while running. I quickly pulled over to the side of the trail, still within eyesight of people, and vomited all the liquid that I had just chugged. Someone who had clearly seen me drink all those fluids said to me “You took down a lot of liquids back there”. You don’t say!

Yet, this vomit session was really a blessing in disguise. I felt so much better after and could immediately start eating gels again. Good to know that my body responds well after vomiting.

The Canyons and Lots of Downhill

The next 13 or so miles of the course, from Robinson Flat to Deadwood Canyon descent, are super gentle, runnable fire road descents. I had been told that this is a common trap sections, where runners go too fast and blow their legs out early. I was still feeling pretty good and I took it easy, running high 9s and low 10 minute miles for much of this stretch. I was not going to be the guy that has to death march in from Foresthill. One thing that I had in my head was that I was essentially the poster child archetype for someone that blows their quads out early and has to walk in from Foresthill to the Finish (38 miles). I’m a young male (3rd youngest racer) who was running his first 100 with an audacious goal. But I was determined to fight the stereotype. I was taking it slow, hydrated, eating well, and ready for the Canyons.

The Canyons are typically extremely hot. Luckily for me, 2023 was super cool year. Not once during the ENTIRE race did I feel hot. I attribute that to the cool temps (mid 80s in the hottest sections), to volunteers stuffing ice down my arm sleeves and neck bandana at every aid station, and to the sauna training I did pre-race. What I did struggle with were the descents. The first descent into Deadwood Canyon at mile 43ish is gnarly. 2,000ft in 2 miles. Switchback after switchback. I just didn’t know how to run. If I pounded the descent, I was scared that I would blow my quads out. But if I took it too slow and used breaking forces to slow myself down, I was also scared I’d blow my quads out. And it was too steep to coast. I ended up taking it mediumly slow, basing my speed in that section off of Corrine Malcolm’s Strava file from her 2019 race (which is what I based my initial splits on, until I was too slow to match it). I think it was the right move, even though I got passed by a few runners (including a friend I made along the way Pat). Still, that section got my quads tired for sure. I was thankful when we got to the bottom for the bridge and the climb up to Devil’s Thumb.

Devil’s Thumb is a similarly hellish climb, also about 2,000ft in 2 miles. But I was so much stronger on the climbs in general on that day (possibly due to all the nordic hamstring curls I was doing!). I ended up passing a bunch of people on the climb and quickly realized that I would much rather by climbing than descending. This cycle (getting passed and hurting on downhills, then passing others and feeling good on uphills) continued for the El Dorado and Volcano canyons.

I got to see my crew at Michigan Bluff, where I was still feeling steady and solid. I also got to see the same guy who saw me vomit. He told me I looked better, which I appreciated.

Foresthill and Cal Street

Oh how nice it was to come into Foresthill. The energy was awesome and I knew my pacer and crew were awaiting me! There really is such a lift that you get when you know you are close to seeing your crew. It helps so much.

I came into Foresthill about an hour behind my original expected time, at 6pm, which I was super happy with given the slowness/snowiness of the high country. My quads had certainly taken their toll in the Canyons, but I was still moving well, walking without pain, and I knew my quads hadn’t blown up yet. I had the legs for a solid finish if I continued to pace it right. I had broken the stereotype!

I took a little extra time here to switch my shoes before making my way down the street packed with people! I fist bumped Dean Karnazes, saw my MA friends, and was ready to hit Cal Street.

I’ve already run 70 miles and I still have 7 hours to go! 100s are long.

Cal Street was hard for me. Initially I was moving well as we leapfrogged back and forth with a friend Christine and her pacer. But eventually she was super strong on the downhills and I found myself hurting, having to walk a little more than I wanted. I was thinking how I had already run 70 miles and I still had another 30 (which would be 7 hours if I moved fast) to go! That sounded super daunting. 100 miles sounded like an awfully long way.

Will did a great job of keeping me moving strong and running most of the flat sections (there were some punchy climbs in there!). The aid stations there were also awesome, with Ford’s Bar being a highlight. Loud music bumping got me amped.

Eventually, the darkness came and we arrived at the river around 9:30pm. I made my first appearance on the livestream here! Got called out by Corrine Malcom for having Jello legs. Tough.

Green Gate to the Track

I got to see my crew after the climb to Green Gate. According to them, that was the first time I looked a bit rough. 20 miles was still a long way and the race was nowhere near over. My legs were hurting, especially the quads. I changed my headlamp batteries and kept moving.

Hey man, we can get sub 22 hours, we just gotta keep moving strong

It was also getting harder and harder for me to eat at this point. I was nervous that I was going to throw up if I had more gels. I was taking some small sips of my Precision Hydration gels, but not much more than that. I still had 4-5 hours left too and I didn’t want to bonk. It was a race against the bonk at that point.

Finally, shortly after Auburn Lake Trails aid station, somewhere around mile 87, Will started to push me. “Hey man, we can get sub 22 hours, we just gotta keep moving strong”. I thought back to my pacing of Josh Ferguson at Massanutten Mountain Trail 100 a month ago and how he had pushed hard the last 15 miles to pass a bunch of people and finish top 10. We had talked about how we both wanted to be running the short uphills at mile 85 in our respective 100s. He accomplished this and I wasn’t going to let him down. I still had legs. So I started pushing, even though it hurt.

The miles started clicking away. We got to see the crew at Pointed Rocks (mile 94) and Will informed me that I basically had to do 13 minute miles to the finish to go sub-22. With the Robie Point climb still to go, that seemed challenging. But I pushed and crushed some 10:30 miles on the downhill to No-Hands Bridge. I was still moving strong on the uphills, and I pushed, passing one runner on the final climb and coming up to Robie Point (a much longer road climb than I thought) with plenty of time to go sub-22. Jenna joined us at the top there and ran down to the track with us!

The Placer High School Track

All of a sudden, the track materializes out of nowhere. I turn left and am greeted by the Sedona red color of the finish. Sub-22 is a certainty and I just have to make my victory lap with my team. The track announcer is calling out my name and the information I had provided pre-race. Wow, 100 miles in the bag! I raise my hands up and cross the line to be greeted by the President of the WSER board Diana Fitzpatrick. 21:51:12. What a feeling.

The Next Day

I was sore. But you have to get up (luckily I got 4 hours of sleep) and go to the track for Golden Hour. It is a necessity, the best part of the race.

I was able to chat with friends I made during the race (Pat) and Sophia (who crushed it)! We traded stories about our respective races while writhing in pain, waiting for the award ceremony to get our buckles.

Takeaways

If you’ve made it this far, why?

But I appreciate you taking the time to read a scrub’s Western States story! It was truly a magical experience. I recommend all ultrarunners to make the hajj to Olympic Valley and Auburn at least once in your running career, whether to run States or just to spectate. It is worth it either way and I know I will be back in the future both as a runner and a spectator.

I am definitely still going over what I learned in the race, but I am super proud of how consistent I ran the race and how I paced myself. Did I have more left in the tank and could I maybe have gone harder? Probably. But I’d rather have a good steady finish than a blowup walking finish. Next time I run States, I will focus on running the downhills a little harder and getting even closer to that tipping point between quads and no quads. And I would stay mentally stronger on Cal Street. Nonetheless, it was an awesome day and a good showing!