Vermont 100 Race Report

Great success!

"Cautiously optimistic."

That's the best way to describe my mindset leading up to the Vermont 100 in Windsor, Vermont this year. I had put together some intel about the course, the layout, the terrain, the elevation...all the essentials when preparing the mind and body to run 100 miles. I was still sore from my disappointments at Western States, but was eager to turn the page and move on. I had heard nothing but good things about Vermont since I signed up for it earlier this year and, I am pleased to report, the race did not disappoint.

I am going to hit some of the highlights of my day and talk a little about the course itself rather than spend too much time chronicling everything that took place during my 21+ hours that I spent out there. There are a few things that I found to be different from the race reports that I had read in preparing for this one (in a good way) that deserve mention.

The first thing I would say is that Vermont was tougher than I expected it to be. The elevation is sneaky - the VT100 website touts over 17,000' of climbing and descending, a number that I initially questioned but found to be spot on after checking my Garmin after the race. The course is not particularly technical. Many of the climbs are on hard-packed jeep trails that are, for all intents and purposes, roads. There's some single track but I would say it makes up around 10% of the overall course. The climbs just keep coming at you, one after another, all day long. It adds up. Conversely, the downhills are very runnable. Most of the descents are gradual, long, gentle grades that seem to encourage you to hammer them pretty hard, especially early on.

Like I said, most of this course is very runnable. If someone were to take an aggressive approach to this race early it could definitely pay off with a great time. On the other hand, it could also backfire later on. I had heard plenty of stories of Vermont runners who did not strike the proper balance and struggled or even completely blew up as a result. This was in the back of my mind as I considered how to approach the race. My plan was to "run to comfort". I never wanted to feel like I was pushing too hard, but at the same time I wasn't going to hold back simply for the sake of holding back. I knew it would get tough at some point, so the farther along in the race I was when that happened, the better. So aside from the steeper hills that I would certainly hike, I planned to run - casually, easily, at conversational pace. But, run nonetheless.

As far as my nutrition (always a dicey thing for me), I chose to put myself on the clock. I set a timer on my watch to beep every 45 minutes. This is something I did not do at Western States; in fact, it's been a while since I have been so meticulous about taking in calories. I often choose to listen to my body and eat when hungry, but this approach can be deceptive - particularly when burning an inordinate number of calories either from running at altitude or from running hard. I do not train to the watch, and rarely race with it, but I needed a new approach. I worked out a new plan with my nutrition coach, Meredith Terranova. My calories early on would be carried with me - Huma gels, Gu Roctane, and Tailwind. I would take a gel every 45 minutes and supplement by sipping my Tailwind. If I saw anything that looked good at an aid station I would enjoy it, but that would not be my primary source of calories. My crew would top me off at the aid stations with fresh supplies as needed per Meredith's plan. This was a 180-degree change from my Western States plan, and I am pleased to say that it was successful.

My Day

The day began early, with a 2am wake-up call at the hotel. I stayed at the Fireside Suites in West Lebanon, New Hampshire, about 25 minutes from the start line (nice place - clean, comfortable, reasonably priced, quiet, right off the highway). After prepping my gear and getting dressed, I met my friend/chaperone/crew chief/coach/pacer extraordinaire Ryan Knapp for the trip to the starting line. The morning air was relatively cool but the humidity was stifling. I was glad that much of my training had been in a similar soup back in Texas!

Upon arrival at the race start, I checked in and waited. I prefer to arrive early, so we had around 40 minutes to kill until the gun went off. There wasn't much to do besides stand around and wait, so that's what we did. We shuffled off to the starting line at around 3:55, and promptly at 4am, I trotted off into the early morning darkness with a couple hundred other intrepid adventure-seeking souls.

One of the unique features of this race is that while we were running our race there was a 100 mile horse race going on simultaneously on the same course. I was somewhat concerned that this might cause problems during the day but I quickly found this not be the case. The riders were courteous, encouraging, friendly, and more than a little perplexed by why we would want to RUN 100 miles! I had a number of pleasant exchanges with the riders throughout the day, and seeing the beautiful horses trotting along side us mere humans provided a mental break from the occasional monotony of the run.

Taftsville covered bridge, mile 15.

Emerging from the morning mist, entering Pretty House aid station. Photo: Kristen DeMeo Winger.

Cruising through Pretty House aid. Photo: Shama Sattar.

I had tried to script the first 20 or so miles in my mind before the race - how quickly I would run, what splits I would shoot for, when I would eat, how I would handle the aid stations, and so forth. I planed on meeting Ryan at the first crew-access aid station (Pretty House, mile 20.4) in around 3 1/2 hours. For that first segment, everything went according to plan. I took in my calories, stayed on my projected pace, and rolled into Pretty House right on schedule. Ryan topped off my supplies, filled my bottles, and after grabbing a handful of bacon (BACON!!) I was off again.

Daylight was now covering the course and I had a chance to take in the landscape around me. Every race that I have run has had its own unique beauty and Vermont was no different. The countryside was dotted with picturesque farms, covered bridges, barns, and old houses that dated back to the 18th century. Inexplicably, it seemed that every lawn and garden we passed was perfectly manicured. The Green Mountains off in the distance provided a stunning backdrop to the lush and verdant fields and farms that surrounded us all day. It was truly a beautiful place, filled with wonderful people who turned out to cheer us on.

Here are some scenes from the course, as captured by my friend and photographer Shama Sattar:

The course wound through the farm country, over hills, into the woods, and back out onto the roads again. I was very pleased that the training I had done for my last race was paying off in this one. I had very little difficulty dispatching most of the climbs in relatively short order, and was quickly back to running the downhills again. There were a few moments when I was concerned I might be pushing too hard, but my heart rate was low, I felt comfortable, and so I decided to roll with it. I did not spend more than a few minutes in any given aid station and began to relax, enjoying the way the day was unfolding.

With Ryan at Stage Road aid station. Photo: Shama Sattar.

My goal entering the race had been, of course, finish. I had an "A" goal of a sub-24 hour finish but the day was going so well I adjusted my sights to a 20-hour finish. This would be a stretch, but was doable. I used this new goal as inspiration to keep pushing myself through low moments and to maintain my sense of urgency in the aid stations.

When I arrived at the Camp 10-Bear aid station (mile 47) I was a little weary but still felt strong. I knew there would be a challenging climb about 1 mile out from this checkpoint so I took a few extra minutes here to collect myself, restock, and catch my breath. My crew (Ryan Knapp, Jessica Knapp, and Tara Deeble) was fantastic. They seemed to anticipate everything I needed. I was fed, watered, given a pep talk, and felt polished and ready to go when I emerged to tackle the 23-mile loop that would bring me back to this aid station later in the day.

There are actually 2 tough climbs after 10-Bear - one at mile 50, and another at around 56. I wasn't expecting to do much hands-on-knees hiking in this race, but that's exactly what these climbs reduced me to. I just kept moving forward and before long I was running downhill again.

Of note here is the aid station at the 100k mark. The crew dubbed it "Margaritaville", and for good reason. As I approached I could smell the cheeseburgers from the grill and was met with the sounds of some lively music serenading us. I had remarked to the person with whom I was running at the time that if this aid station didn't actually have margaritas, then that would be false advertising. But lo and behold, they had margaritas! I was jubilant as I enjoyed a cheeseburger in paradise and a cold margarita.

Oh happy day, a margarita and a cheeseburger! Photo: Shama Sattar.

Tara and Jessica from my crew had made the trip to this aid station to check on me, and since I felt good and was in good spirits, we made our visit brief. I refilled my supplies and set out again. There was another hill to climb right out of this aid station so I was happy to have a chance to hike and let the food settle.

Not long after, I hit a long, sustained descent that was at a somewhat steeper grade than most of the downhills had been earlier in the day. I was finally starting to feel the cumulative effects of the pounding my quads had been taking all day at this point. I was not able to push as hard as I had been able to and while I was moving decently it wasn't quite at the pace that I had hoped to hit. This long descent would culminate once again at Camp 10-Bear (mile 70), where I would pick up Ryan and begin the charge to the finish.

Rapidfire

I told Ryan that I wanted to finish in 20 hours. He said, "Let's do it!" We trotted out of the aid station and I brought him up to speed on how my day had gone. We had around 6 hours to finish the last 50k and break the 20 hour barrier. It seemed very doable to me at the time, and I maintained my intention to hit that goal.

I hit a low spot at mile 76 (the "Spirit of 76" aid station) and had to hold up for a little while to allow my engine to cool off. This was also a crew aid station, so I was able to visit with everyone and catch my breath. I probably spent too much time here but I was starting to feel fatigue creep in. Tara packed some sandwiches and pickles for me in a baggie that I would eat on the trail. Soon Ryan convinced me we needed to get going, and we were off.

Hanging out at Spirit of '76 aid station with the REAL star of the show - West Knapp! Photo: Jessica Knapp.

Heading out of '76 with Ryan, trying to stay positive! Photo: Shama Sattar.

It wasn't long before we were moving at a good clip again. Late in this race, the aid stations seem to come along pretty often and I tried my best not to spend too much time loitering. Ryan was great at keeping us moving. We would restock, grab a snack, and get back out again. Along the way, we had a number of passing conversations with other runners and pacers that served to keep us in good spirits. I had the good fortune to spend some of these later miles running with my friend Shaheen Sattar from Dallas, and elite runner who had battled through an up-and-down day but was now looking very strong with her pacer, Steve. It's always great to see friendly faces late in a race and this was no different. The 4 of us shared some great miles and conversation as night began to fall. We made it to mile 88 together - Bill's, an old barn that was converted into a farmer's workshop that was converted into an aid station. This was a COOL aid station. I wanted to hang out for a while and check out all the gizmos and gadgets lining the walls and tucked into the rafters, but there was still some work to be done. I had to grab some food and keep moving.

With Shaheen Sattar at mile 88, Bill's Aid Station. Photo: Shama Sattar.

Everything continued to go relatively smoothly until around mile 91 when I made a minor miscalculation that ended up becoming a big problem. Since Margaritaville, I had largely switched from my gels and tailwind to solid food at the aid stations. It was working well. But at the mile 91 aid station ("Keating's") I thought I would try some ramen soup. In short order, I gulped down 2 full cups of ramen, then tried to get up to run out of the aid station with Ryan.

That didn't work for me.

Almost immediately I became sick. I wouldn't shake that feeling for the rest of the night. I tried to recover at the next aid station, mile 94 ("Polly's"), even hoping I would throw the stuff up. No luck. Eventually Ryan pulled me up again and we would continue on. I felt awful, but I only had a few miles to go. If I got sick, Ryan pointed out, I'd get sick out there where we are at least moving forward.

As we left Polly's, Ryan pulled out his phone and called my wife and daughter! I was hoping for some pleasant and loving encouragement, but that was not happening. My wife was awesome. Her comments were to the point. "Look, you only have 5 miles to go. Suck it up and get it done!" Spoken like a true veteran! (Not her first rodeo.)

The Finish

The last few miles were seemingly endless. Not only because I was reduced to walking, but also because 3 of the last 4 miles were uphill. We faced climb after climb, and any hope that I could make up some time down the stretch time quickly evaporated. There were long, muddy stretches of trail that had been chewed up by the horses that made the footing somewhat treacherous. So we hiked. It didn't bother me that much. For the most part, I had held it together for 91+ miles. We could walk it in and still PR comfortably. And that's what we did. Ryan and I didn't talk that much over those last few miles, choosing instead to save our energy to keep pressing onward. But having him there was very important to me. He helped me maintain some consistent forward progress and was always positive and encouraging. Like I said, a pacer extraordinaire! I crossed the finish line at 1:49 am - tired, but overall in good spirits about how the day had gone.

21:49:30, a new PR and a BIG buckle!

Closing Thoughts

It was a privilege to spend time again out on the course with some of the guys still in the mix for the Grand Slam - Ace, Chris, Stephen, Jim...truly one of the joys of my day. Those guys are terrific. I am so happy for them, and while it's tough not to be a part of the club anymore, I still gain so much strength and inspiration from them.

So, now it's on to Leadville - the race that had me the most concerned when this whole thing started back several months ago. I'll have more thoughts to offer as that day draws nearer, but for right now, it feels pretty good to at least get this one on the board.

The Verdict-

VERMONT: HIGHLY RECOMMEND!