How to Turn a Routine Run Into a Marshmello Run

It wasn't an amazing run for the distance or difficulty,

but it did inspire the above meme and this blog post...

So this weekend started like most others: cooking breakfast for the kids, my wife is prepping for work, playing with the kids (Hot Wheels, Nerf gun wars, and Lego building), and I’m thinking about when I will be able to get out to get some miles in. My wife is working a split shift today, so I know I have a small window when running is even an opportunity. Call it serendipity, call it fate, call it whatever you want but at some point this morning Marshmello turned what I had expected to be a standard neighborhood road run into something more memorable (and worth writing a blog post about).

Recently my two and four year old sons have taken to watching Marshmello videos on youtube. I had noticed them watching these videos once before this morning, but didn’t give it much attention. Today, however, I ended up watching several videos for entire songs with my two year old. At some point during this time, I started thinking to myself that these videos are entertaining and this music is pretty good and could be pretty awesome to run with. Well, with that thought I decided I would take Marshmello with me to liven up my standard neighborhood running route I had planned to get in during the break between my wife’s work shifts. In some sense, it made it a new and fresh experience.

Here is one of my top favorites from Marshmello, "Summer".

Let me backup a quick second here. Marshmello is an electronic dance music producer and DJ. He definitely doesn’t specialize in my standard style of music that I listen to running or not. Anyhow, even though I usually don’t run with music altogether, I decided while watching these videos with my two year old son that I was going to listen to this music during my run today. Even stranger was the fact that as I was getting my stuff together and tying up my Altras with the Marshmello videos playing in the background my wife commented to me about how it would make pretty good music to run to!?! “Weird, I thought the same thing”, I said as I was just finishing setting up the Marshmello playlist on Spotify.

Here is another one of my top choices, "Alone".

With that, I was out the door and embarking on my first ever run synced to electronic dance music. For the most part, I am not a super emotional person. I tend to hide my emotions more readily than put them on display for all to see. Furthermore, I don’t buy into much spiritual stuff about “sending good vibes” and feeling people’s energy, not that I don’t see the value of support from others or self confidence. However, even with my rather cynical mindset I found this run to be more emotionally charged and filled with more out of the ordinary thoughts than my standard run of the same route. 

It started off like most other runs along my standard neighborhood route; the sidewalk and road cracks here and there, the resident turkey there. Maybe there was a bit more “pep in my step” due to the fast tempo in my earbuds that I wasn’t accustomed to, but otherwise it felt like a standard run. It wasn't until about five miles, the halfway point of my run, that I started feeling that this music was altering my thoughts and emotions during my run. I began thinking about appreciating our surroundings. Since I prefer trail running over road running, the fact that this thought popped in my head during my standard neighborhood road run route surprised me.

I looked at the houses and appreciated the architecture and the work that went into the design of them. How can one say that architecture isn’t an art in itself? For that matter, what about the landscaping? I appreciated the materials that went into the building of those homes: the years and labor hours that were spent on the research, development, and production of those materials. I thought about the chemists that were involved in the development of the paints, siding, shingles, and insulation in every home on the street I was running along. I admired the structural and environmental engineers that designed and finalized all of the minute details of the working parts of the home and macro impacts of the development itself. I thought of the foresters and mill workers that made the lumber and the drivers that transported those materials from the forest to the mill to the building sites. I thought of the landscape architects that designed the layouts of the yards with the trees and shrubs. That led me to appreciate the nurseries and their employees that produced the plants. Additionally, it led to the appreciation of the landscape companies and their workers for installing the shrubs, trees, and turf.

That last paragraph may sound like nothing but an unadulterated praise of capitalism, but it is in fact just my reiteration of thoughts during this run of my recognition of the worth of individuals’ contributions to a shared project. Whether it had been building homes, growing corn, or launching a satellite into orbit; I believe that in my state of mind I would have seen the beauty in the orchestration of any of them and appreciated them all equally. Basically, the point of this entire writing is to encourage the appreciation of your surroundings.
I’ll be the first to admit that I usually don’t appreciate my environment when I do my standard neighborhood runs. I typically view it as a convenient way to get some miles in. After this morning’s run though, I appreciated my standard running route in a way that I had not before. It really opened my eyes to how much a run can be influenced by altering one small aspect of it, such as auditory input. It amazed me that I had not been so aware of this fact earlier. I’ve run the same routes multiple times many times with mixed results. Sometimes it’s the weather that changes or just my attitude. Sometimes I’m too hungry or my stomach feels too full. Whatever the variable is that you choose, there is some impact from said variable on how your run turns out. The key is to realize that YOUR run is being impacted by these inputs. Once this is realized and accepted, one can run through and minimize the impacts of perceived negative inputs on their running regime. Additionally, one can breathe new life into old and boring running routines. Change your music, add music, run hungry, run full, run topless, push a stuffed armadillo in a stroller. The point is to change up your routine if the routine of it has begun to impact your motivation. It isn’t the activity of running that has become boring or routine to you, it is your perception of it.

Scott Snell
January 15, 2017

2016 Wildcat Ridge Romp

Author’s Note:  This race report was written in January about five months following the event. I’ve done my best to recall the events as accurately as possible. I have made sure to note anywhere there was any uncertainty in my recollection of said events.

The Wildcat Ridge Romp is a multi distance (10 mile, 20 mile, 50k, 50 mile, 100 k) event organized and managed by the NJ Trail Series group. It takes place at the Wildcat Ridge Wildlife Management Area in northern New Jersey typically in mid August when it is nice and warm; I’ll elaborate on the heat for the event this year a little later. All distances for the event are run by repeating a 10 mile loop as many times as necessary to finish a runner’s chosen distance. The course is primarily single track trail with a few short sections of ATV trail, paved road, and fire road mixed in. The trail is pretty technical in my opinion with some semi treacherous rocky sections and enough elevation change to keep it interesting even if it was completely smooth runnable trail. My Garmin data showed a little under 1000’ of elevation gain per loop with 4702’ at the end of the 50 miler. The one creek crossing at around the six mile mark of the loop offered a solid bridge so wet feet due to creek crossings were not an issue. Unfortunately, due to other reasons wet feet would not be avoided altogether.



10 Mile Course Map

Following finishing my first 50 miler (North Face Endurance Challenge at Bear Mountain, NY) recovery went well and faster than expected so I returned to my normal non-training routine of running. It was mid May and I was feeling confident and motivated, but had no other races lined up for the remainder of the year. The North Face 50 miler was intended to be the running pinnacle of the year for me in 2016, but returning to running afterwards left me looking for a new challenge. Since my first attempt at a 50 miler went better than expected, I thought attempting another and improving my time at the same distance would be an achievable goal to work towards. I especially thought it was a doable goal because I wasn’t aiming for a massive improvement. My finishing time at the North Face 50 miler was 9:04:29. I was hoping to improve my 50 miler time to under 9 hours. My thinking was that if I could find a similar 50 miler, shaving five minutes off of my time wouldn’t be that much more incredibly difficult. If I hadn’t had to stop to clear my colon at the NF 50 miler, I would have already been under 9 hours. In my mind, I was literally one poo away from my goal.

I decided on the 50 mile option of the Wildcat Ridge Romp with about two and a half months of time to train. It seemed to be the perfect attempt for me to improve my 50 miler time since it was described as having similar terrain and almost identical elevation gain. The NF 50 course had just under 7000’ of elevation gain according to my Garmin data while the Wildcat Ridge Romp course elevation profile showed 7223’ of elevation gain for the 50 mile course. I followed the same training plan I had for the NF 50 miler which was based off of the Ultraladies 50 mile training plan (http://www.trailrunevents.com/ul/schedule-50m.asp). The training seemed to go just as well in preparation for the Wildcat Ridge Romp as it had for the NF 50 miler. Everything seemed to be going as planned for me to achieve my goal:  similar course difficulty, almost identical training, and a great outlook going into the race. I was extremely confident up until about a week before the race when I started checking the weather reports.

50 Mile Elevation Profile

Hourly weather data

The 2016 Wildcat Ridge Romp took place on August 13th which happened to be a particularly warm day. As I had mentioned earlier, the heat would become a factor especially going into the later part of the day. At 6 AM at the start of the race the temperature was 73.4°F. It would eventually climb to a high of 95°F with a heat index of 109.7°F according to Weather Underground’s historical weather data. Even knowing the heat would play a role in the race, I still felt good about my goal at the start of the day.

I planned to run this race at a steady pace. For me that meant averaging 1 h:48 min. per 10 mile

An example of how some of the ATV trails looked

loop. A friend (I’ll refer to him as RP going forward) of mine had registered for this race as well so we took off at the front of the pack from the start and ran the first loop together. Throughout the entirety of the day, weather was a factor and from the starting line to the actual start of the trail was no exception. It was hot and humid, even at the 6 AM start. While the heat and mugginess this early made things uncomfortable, the absolute worst effect of the weather this early in the day was the amount of dew everything was covered in. The race starts in a small parking lot and then follows less than a quarter mile stretch of grassy area along a road before turning onto a gravel road that takes you to the trail. It was during this short grassy stretch at the start that the dew had the biggest impact, soaking the shoes and socks of all the runners. Once on the trail, the dew continued to keep our shoes and socks wet. Because much of the course follows ATV trails, they are not maintained to the same pristine conditions you may expect for most hiking trails. Sections of the trail stretched through non-forested open areas. Through these sections much of the vegetation on the trail edges was 2-5 feet tall, heavy with dew, and leaning hard onto the path. Running these sections kept me pretty much soaked from the waist down.

The first four miles of the loop to the first aid station were a mix of these sections of wooded trail and

View from the pond edge

open stretches. There were no significant climbs up to this point, just a lot of short climbs and quick descents. At around the three mile mark (not positive about this location) there is what looked to be a great overlook site, but upon our first passing it was too dark to see much. RP and I refilled our water bottles and moved through the first aid station quickly. The first mile after felt about the same as the first four miles with a short stretch where we ran along a pond edge for a nice change of scenery. It was right around the five mile mark where we hit what seemed to me as the most significant and technical climb of the course. Not that it was the longest climb of the course, but probably the steepest and most rocky.



View from overlook

Miles six and seven were a bit more technical than the first five with much more exposed rock sections and a long (about a mile) descent with a couple pretty steep sections that were a little gnarly. The long descent was followed by a long climb of about a mile and a half. This section of trail felt different to me as well as it carved its way through continuous forest passing large boulders and keeping me alert as a few more technical sections required a little rock hopping. At about the six mile mark the course reaches the lowest elevation and crosses a bridge over a small creek. After the creek crossing the course hops onto a stone road that begins climbing alongside the creek. About three quarters of a mile later the road leads you to what appears to be a very aged stone structure. At this point the course leads you to a short climb behind the stone building and out of the woods to a steep climb up a grassy embankment to a paved road. We then followed the road (Split Rock Rd.) across a large dam which held the water supply that was feeding the creek adjacent to the road we had just climbed. Just on the other side of the dam at mile seven was an unmanned water station thankfully. Seeing all that water and having a nearly empty bottle was mentally draining in some way. We filled our bottles quickly, dumped a little water on our heads (we were only about 1:20 from the start, but the heat was already affecting us), and continued our run.

The next couple miles were similar to the early miles of the loop with a mix of wooded and open sections, although I’d say this later section was composed of more open than wooded. At least it felt that way with the sun out as it seemed shade was hard to come by and the sun was already feeling warm during the second half of our first loop. At the 8.5 mile mark the course passed by the mile four aid station again and then followed another rock road for about a mile on a gradual descent until spilling out into a neighborhood on paved roads. After about a quarter mile run on the neighborhood blacktop roads, the course hopped back on the trail for a very short stretch before dumping us back to the initial gravel road that led back to the start/finish area.

We checked into the start/finish area at about 1 hour and 50 minutes, just a couple minutes slow to meet my target time. At this point that time split was a confidence booster because I felt like I hadn’t started pushing myself too hard or nearing that exhaustion line anywhere during the first loop. RP and I filled our bottles with some Gatorade and took in some calories before heading back out. Since the start/finish area was the only fully stocked aid station, I was relying on GoGos applesauce squeeze pouches as my only source of calories between 10 mile loops. Each pouch was 3.2 oz and 60 calories. I ate three during the first loop and took three more before heading back out for loop number two. If all things went perfectly, this may have been a fine nutritional plan:  180 supplemental applesauce calories during each 10 mile, sub 2 hour loop and primary refueling at the completion of each loop at the main aid station. Unfortunately, not everything went perfectly. As the day went on and the heat started to wear on me I began slowing down. This meant longer stretches of energy exertion with fewer calories consumed. Although I wouldn’t say that nutrition was the largest contributing factor to my ailing performance throughout the day, I would say it could have been adding to an already troubled situation.

I headed back out with RP for our second lap with the plan to try to push this lap a little harder than the first. I figured if I was going to meet my goal I didn’t want to have to make up time on my final lap during the hottest part of the day. I realized after a few miles that RP wasn’t with me anymore. We had chatted during the first lap about running together and splitting up. We even joked about whether we would hold hands at the finish as we shared first place. We knew what each other’s goals were so I wasn’t completely surprised to find myself alone. During the remainder of this lap the heat continued wear on me. Although the dew was long gone, I was still drenched from a steady flow of sweat. I almost stopped at the creek crossing during this lap to dunk my head and cool off, but I knew the water aid station was just ahead and somewhat reluctantly passed on the opportunity. I finished up my second lap and checked into the start/finish area at about 3:50, even further behind my target time after trying to push myself harder during that second lap to make up the couple minutes that I needed. It was at this point that I started doubting the feasibility of making my goal of a sub 9 hour finish.



Map of the dam crossing

It was at some point during my third lap that I started coming to terms with not achieving my main intention of the race. The heat was getting more and more oppressive with every lap. My water bottle was either empty or nearly empty every time I reached an aid station. It had been about five hours since the start of the race and I don’t think I had urinated once. I tried to pick up my pace during this lap, but my body just wouldn’t respond how I wanted it to. I continued to fall further off of my target pace. Most people recommend having tiered goals going into a race. I didn’t do that because I was so sure I’d be able to hit my A goal of a sub 9 hour finish. It was looking more and more like that wasn’t going to happen. I decided I would make up a secondary goal on the fly to stay motivated. I was in the lead since RP had fallen back during the second lap, so what better goal to stay motivated to the finish but to hang on to the lead? So finishing in first became my tier B goal. During this lap I stopped at the creek crossing and dunked my head and soaked my shirt in the cool water. I was so happy I did because at the next water station there was only enough water left to fill my bottle (20 oz.) about halfway.

I’m not certain, but I believe it was during this lap that a group of a few runners that must have finished a shorter distance race were parked at the point on the course where you exit the trail and head into the neighborhood. They must have been waiting for runners to cheer on because when they saw me approach the cranked up the stereo playing “I Would Walk 500 Miles” by the Proclaimers and hopped out of the car cheering. The song choice made me chuckle and cheered me up a bit for the last of the lap.

I rolled into the start/finish area a little past the six hour mark, so much for those sub two hour laps. I was feeling overheated and dehydrated. I also had the feeling that I was fighting a losing battle with my A goal steadily getting farther out of reach. Although feeling a bit trashed mentally and physically, I went through the aid station quickly to try to finish what was beginning to feel like a suffer fest as

Trail following the creek to the dam crossing

quickly as possible. It was during this fourth lap that I started wondering how RP was doing and regretting pushing harder during that second lap. I thought that maybe if I had just kept pace with him at least I would have had some company in this misery. And misery it was. I had never felt so dehydrated or overheated. I realized at a couple points during this lap that my head had stopped sweating as my hair was dry. I felt like I had to urinate, but only a dark brownish yellow dribble came out. When I reached the creek crossing during this lap, I took some extra time to soak and cool down. I found a low rock at the creek edge and hung from it with my waist up submerged in the cool flowing water. After a couple minutes I grudgingly pulled myself out of the water and trudged up the rock road climb. It was a blessing I pushed myself to move when I did at that point because as I was arriving at the aid station on the other side of the dam a volunteer was about to leave the unmanned aid station without any water. I was beyond happy that I got there before she had left and when she offered me ice I profusely expressed my love for her. I got a full, iced water bottle, a hat full of ice, and a far improved mood and was on my way to wrap up lap four. It was towards the end of this lap that one house in the neighborhood section of the course had put out a sign proclaiming “Way To Go Wildcat Runners! Heat Index:  109.7°F”. Thankfully, they also put out a garden sprinkler for runners to cool off in.

I returned to the start/finish area at about the 8.5 hour mark. At this point I was almost relieved that my goal time was a lost cause. I also had plenty of distractions away from those negative thoughts. RP was back at the start/finish area. By this time he had called it quits after three laps. His girlfriend and father were there as were my wife, our two boys, and her mom. I felt like I had a full crew there to patch me up and get me back out for my final lap. I put on clean dry socks and swapped out my soggy Sauconys for Altra Superiors. While doing this, RP’s dad handed me a Sierra Nevada IPA. A cold IPA never tasted so good. While getting the IPA and some calories down, I found out that of the 30 or so runners that started the 50 miler only myself and one other runner were still on the course. I guess this made my B goal more attainable as I only had to stay in front of one other runner. With that confidence booster, dry feet, and a little alcohol in my system I headed out in good spirits for my final lap.

As happy as I was heading out for the final lap, it wasn’t long before the sun and heat reminded me how tough that fourth lap had been. Soon after leaving the start/finish area, my main motivation was the creek. All I cared about was getting to the creek and laying down in the water. The miles were slow, but once I got to the creek it was bliss. I laid face down in the water until I started wondering what a passerby might think if they saw me. I was sure they would assume I was a corpse. With that thought I pulled myself out and moved on. Within minutes, the relief of the water was replaced with the dense heat and humidity of the day. I passed through the unmanned empty water station trying not to think about how there was once a water station there. I rolled through the neighborhood one more time and got a final soak in the garden hose before making it to the finish to be greeted by my friends and family.

I finished with an official time of 10:55:02 which was good enough for first place this year. As happy as I was with the results and my effort, I would be lying if I didn’t admit it was somewhat bittersweet for several reasons (I think my face at the finish kinda shows these emotions). First and most importantly, my finishing time was nowhere near my target A goal time of nine hours. Second was the fact that it felt like I got first place (my made on the fly B goal) by default. The majority of the 50 mile runners had stopped at three laps and taken a 50 k finish time. Now whether you believe that race directors should allow runners to drop down to shorter distance finishes or if you believe that runners who don’t finish the distance they registered for should be recorded as DNFs is a separate although somewhat related issue. No matter how it was handled at this race, I still would have felt like I got first place somewhat by default. I most likely was not the fastest distance runner that started the 50 miler that day. However, only myself and one other runner were stubborn enough to finish the full distance given the torturous conditions.

Scott Snell
January 3, 2017

2016 Batona 50 Race Report

The Batona 50 is point to point race with 53.4 mile and 50k options. The course follows the path of The Batona Trail. The trail derives its name similar to but not exactly in the format of an acronym: BAck TO NAture. It makes its way through the NJ Pinelands National Reserve from the north end at Ong’s Hat in Brendan T. Byrne State forest to the southern end at Lake Absegami in Bass River State Forest. Along the way it takes you on a tour through the heart of Wharton State Forest passing Batsto Village and numerous campgrounds.The trail is pretty typical of South Jersey trails in that it is a reflection of the common sandy soils of the coastal plains, resulting in high sand content and sandy trails. The second common feature of trails in Southern NJ and the landscape in general is a lack of elevation change. The Batona Trail shares the nearly total absence of climbs and descents with the rest of the landscape in the region with only 530’ of elevation gain recorded by my Garmin for the entirety of the trail. 

Elevation Profile

The Batona 50 event is organized as a “fat ass” event. Typically, “fat ass” events have no frills, no fee, no aid, no schwag, and no course markings; making them more or less a large group run. However, the organizers of the Batona 50 have gone beyond what I would consider to be the standard definition of a “fat ass” event. While there are no course markings, the trail is pretty well marked already by trail blazes so there really isn’t any need for additional markings. As for frills, there was no schwag for registering or finishers’ medals, but they did offer the option to purchase a

pretty nice looking long sleeve shirt. There was no registration fee, but the organizers did ask that in lieu of the fee that participants consider donating to the Pinelands Preservation Alliance or NJ Conservation Foundation. It was in the aid department where the event really went beyond my expectations from a “fat ass” event. The course had six planned aid stations along the 50+ mile distance, four of which doubled as aid for the 50k distance. A surprise aid station popped up during the event for the 50+ mile distance between aid stations on the second half of the course where they were about 10 miles apart. All of the aid stations were stocked with standard fuel and hydration donated by the runners and the amazing group of volunteers manning them. And heck, they even offered the option of transporting a drop bag to any of the aid stations for you!

This was my last ultra for the year and with it taking place only four weeks after finishing my first 100 miler, I was really questioning how hard I wanted to push myself while running it. I didn’t train much between the two events. I did some easy medium to short recovery runs following the 100 miler, one long (25 mile) training run, and some mid to short runs during a taper leading up to the 50 miler. In total, I ran about 75 miles in the four weeks between the two races. I was really banking on the fitness and endurance from the 100 mile training to carry over and get me through the race, which is a strategy I have never used and did not trust. Additionally, I was trying to comfort myself with the fact that the course was super flat and therefore the 50 miles would seem “easy”. All the while I knew that while one 50 miler may be “easy” relative to another 50 miler, running 50 miles is never “easy” and I knew that at some point during the run I would most likely be hurting and in pain. With these trepidations leading up to the event, I was telling myself that my plan was to go out at comfortable pace and maintain that for the entirety of the run. I stuck to that plan up until the race started.

I stood in the crowd while the race director made some brief announcements. Then with the start of the race imminent, a strange thing happened. All of the other runners towards the front of the crowd started shuffling backwards in small, barely noticeable increments. Without moving, myself and about four other runners were all at the front of the starting line and with that the race began. Three of the other runners that took off first had actually intended to be there. The one immediately in front of me, however, had apparently ended up there inadvertently due to the pre start backwards shuffle and hopped off to the side of the trail to let me pass after maybe 100 yards from the start.

The start of the race was 7 AM so the sun was just starting to rise and it was still a little tough to see the trail and blazes without a headlamp. My plan, or lack thereof, was to run with someone else with a headlamp for the first half hour or so until the headlamp would be completely unnecessary. I was going out at what felt like a pretty comfortable pace for me, but no headlamps were nearby behind me and one was not too far ahead. I figured I’d pick up my pace a bit to catch the pair of runners, one of whom had a headlamp, in front of me. I told myself that even though it was a little faster (around 8:30 miles) than I had intended to go out, it would be less than a half hour until it would be light enough that I would be completely comfortable running without any lighting.

After just a few miles with the two runners, it was daylight and one other runner that had sped up from the starting pack had joined up with us. With a little conversation between the four of us the miles started to click off and we were at the first aid station. We all passed through quickly (less than a minute) and continued on. And just like that, I scrapped my whole plan of taking it easy and decided to see if I could keep pace with these guys who were the lead pack with the exception of the front runner who was running a blazing pace and set a new course record of 7:11:00. As much as I had told myself that this is my last ultra for the year, I haven’t trained enough or recovered long enough from the 100 miler, and I should take it easy and just focus on finishing and enjoying it, I couldn’t convince myself to execute that plan. For me anyway, the attraction of ultras is to truly test yourself and find out what you are capable of. The way I see it, if you aren’t pushing yourself, you won’t find out.

One of the stretches of narrow boards.

Even though I was pushing harder than I had intended and in a bit of pain, I was still enjoying the run. The first couple hours were a bit chilly, mid 30s, but once it warmed up a bit it was perfect running weather. It may have been a bit past the time for peak fall colors as the sassafras and the sweetgum trees had nearly dropped all of their leaves, but many of the oaks still displayed the majority of their leaves ranging from green tinted with yellows to brilliant reds and earthy browns. Though the most stunning colors belonged to the blueberry shrubs that dominate much of the understory of the Pinelands. Running through the seemingly endless sea of fiery red was a reward in itself. Nearly every footfall was cushioned by a bed of oak leaves and pitch pine needles along the sandy trail. While much of the scenery along the Batona trail is consistent, it does offer some variety passing by several lakes and long abandoned cranberry bogs. Additionally, for some stretches it follows forest streams and passes through several low lying swampy areas where the trail weaves its way between the thick stands of Atlantic white cedars on treacherous looking narrow boards.

Between enjoying the scenery and the off and on conversations within our pack, we were a little over

Fall colors.

20 miles into the run before I even realized it or thought about changing my pace. It was around this point that one runner from our group picked up his pace and for the next few miles I could just barely catch a glimpse of his orange jacket in the distance every few minutes. Not long after that another from our pack picked up his pace as well and the one runner remaining with me slowed his pace. I ran alone for a good stretch of the trail after that and maintained just a slightly slower pace (just under 9 minute miles) than I had when running with the group until I started feeling some rumbling in my bowels. After assessing the situation for awhile, it became clear that I was going to have to resolve the issue soon. I didn’t want to waste much time by going too far off trail, but I also did not want to perform a public demonstration of how to wipe your ass with leaf litter and pine needles. My main worry was that I had no clue how far back the next runner was. I waited until the next side trail crossed the course and went just a little way down that trail and hopped off the trail behind some shrubs thinking “this side trail won’t have any traffic”. Well, one of the pre race announcements was to be very mindful and on the lookout for trail blazes because there are many cross trails and fire roads making it easy to go off course without realizing it. I had noticed this during the race as well as how often times along the trail there are braided sections that separate then quickly rejoin to a single trail. It turned out that this “cross trail” that I hopped off of was actually just a braided section of the Batona trail. I realized this shortly after taking care of business and going just a few paces down the trail to find the paths reconnected. Thankfully, there was enough of a gap between me and the next runner that my privacy was not disturbed.

With that catastrophe avoided, I continued on in good spirits. Soon after, I passed the 50k mark and checked my watch to realize I had just run my fastest 50k, bettering it by about 13 minutes. Even though my previous 50k best was on a tougher course (Blues Cruise) with far more elevation change, it was still a bit of a boost for my morale and encouraged me to continue to push as best I could for the remaining 20 miles or so. I was feeling a bit tired by this point so it really did help me out mentally. Although I was telling myself that I didn’t have a target time for this race, I was really hoping to keep it under a 10 minute per mile average. With that pace, I would improve my 50 mile time. I pushed on sustaining around a 9:30 per mile pace until around mile 40 when I caught sight of one of the two runners I had been with earlier that had picked up his pace. It was his first race greater than a 50k distance and it looked like the miles were beginning to take a toll on him. We rolled into the final aid station at about the 43 mile mark together.

I was feeling pretty tired by this point, but the excitement of running a faster time than I had hoped for and knowing that I could be at the finish within a couple hours had me pumped and ready to push on and wrap this thing up. After refilling my bottle and downing some bacon, a banana, and some coke I was ready to move out. I looked over at my running mate to realize that he did not look as excited or as pumped as I was to finish this run. A chair was set up just a few steps from the aid station table and one of the volunteers pointed it out and mentioned it to the guy I had been running with. I felt it was my duty at this point to tell him not to even think about sitting down. I told him to not even look at that chair, it’s only another ten miles until you’ll be back at your car and can sit down there. With that we headed out from the aid station and pushed on.

The next few miles passed quickly with the company and the boost of the caffeine and sugar from the coke. Then we found ourselves on a fire road and there was no sign of the familiar pink blazes we had been following on the trail all day. We turned back following the road until we found a faint pink blaze. Thinking that this confirmed we were still on the trail, we doubled back and continued on the road until it came out to a larger road crossing we had already crossed from the opposite direction not too long before the blazes had quit appearing. We saw the trail nearby where we had

crossed earlier and knew for certain that we had made a wrong turn. We got back on the trail, running a section we had already run, a little frustrated that we had probably just added about an extra one mile loop to the final stretch of the course. We got back to the point where we made the wrong turn and I immediately realized how we had both messed it up. What looked like an arrow pointing left where the trail met the fire road was actually an arrow directing hikers from the opposite direction onto the trail we had just come from. If either of us had looked to the right at that point we would have seen that the trail was clearly blazed in that direction. Clearly both of us were feeling the effects of the miles that we had logged already. Thankfully, that was the only wrong turn we made.

We continued on together until about 5 miles from the finish when my trail companion decided to slow down to take a gel and walk for a bit. I think his stomach was bothering him a bit as he had mentioned that he hoped the coke would help settle it shortly after leaving the last aid station. I’m guessing that he wanted to let the gel settle a little before continuing with the gyrations from the pounding of running. He told me not to wait for him, but I felt kinda bad about continuing on ahead of him so close to the finish when we had run the better part of the entire trail together. However, at that point I could practically smell the finish and was running out of motivation. I just wanted to be done as soon as possible. I just gave him a nod and continued on. My brain was feeling kinda fried at the time and in my mind it was a very encouraging nod that said “Stay strong, keep up the pace and finish strong!”. Looking back, I doubt it conveyed that entire message to him.

Lake Absegami at the south end of the trail.

For the last few miles I tried to run the tank dry, but there wasn’t a whole lot left. I was digging deep in an attempt to eek out one more sub 9 mile, but the closest I could get was a 9:15. I crossed the finish with a time of 8:40:45 which I was pretty impressed by since my time goal that I was saying I

Finished!

didn’t have was 10 hours. I am so thankful that I fell in with the group that I did from the start or else I don’t think I would have pushed myself to the same degree. To me, that really sums up what these ultra events are all about:  the eloquent intermixing of camaraderie and competition that drives everyone to be the best version of themselves.

Scott Snell
November 10, 2016

2016 TARC 100 Race Report

TARC 100 Race Report

How I Broke Two Ultrarunning Commandments and Succeeded

First lap and feeling fine!

The TARC (Trail Animals Running Club) 100 is a hundred mile race which takes place in Westwood, MA, about a 20 minute drive from downtown Boston. In fact, the Boston skyline is visible, weather permitting, from one point on the course. The 2016 running of the TARC 100 was the fourth running of the event and will unfortunately be the final running of it for the foreseeable future due to a number of reasons. From the few TARC members I heard from about putting the TARC 100 on hold, the main reason that seemed to be repeated was that a TARC member had past and the club felt stretched thin between TARC 100 and all the other races they put on. With it possibly being the final running of a race being put on by a club that already felt stretched thin, one might expect a subpar performance for overall race event coordination. The TARC 100 race director, Josh Katzman, and the TARC crew had quite the contrary in mind with an amazingly well organized event that was run smoothly and exceeded all expectations.

The course was amazingly well marked with flagging and signs both with reflective tape so they were easy to see when a headlamp was needed; it would have been difficult to get lost or go off course unless you were in a seriously foggy state of mind (or you head out fast and miss the first turn, that will be explained later). All aid stations were well stocked with everything you would expect and manned by super helpful and friendly volunteers. Additionally, the course route and the spacing of the aid stations was proof that a significant amount of time and effort was put into getting them right. The course is a 25 mile loop of primarily single track trail. There is one short section, probably less than a couple hundred feet, of the course where there is two way traffic. Other than that, there is no repeated trail during each loop. I’d estimate that the course is easily over 90% trail with the remainder being made up of short stretches along gravel and a few paved roads. It was somewhat technical, some sections more so than others, with a decent amount of exposed roots and rocky sections. There is also a fair amount of elevation change with about 2,500 feet of gain during each lap for a total of 10,000 feet of elevation gain. Not a crazy amount of gain, but definitely not flat either.

Lacing up my Altra Lone Peaks
 for the start!

I registered for this 100 miler more or less to overcome my fear of the 100 mile distance. My goal for 2017 is to complete the PA Triple Crown Series:  Hyner 50k, World's End 100k, and Eastern States 100 miler. Up until finishing the TARC 100 I felt confident about everything in the Triple Crown Series other than the 100 miler. Wrapping my head around covering 100 miles was something I was struggling with so I figured if I want to have any confidence next year in finishing the series, what better way than to just get a hundred miler out of the way this year and prove to myself that it is a doable distance. So, with having done a 40 and two 50 milers already this year, I registered for the TARC 100 about a month before the race. I basically viewed all of my training runs and the 50 milers as training runs building up to the 100 miler.

With it being my first shot at a 100 miler and not being familiar with the course, it was tough to decide what an achievable yet challenging goal would be other than just finishing. I figured 24 hours is kinda the standard time goal for a 100 miler that isn’t ridiculously technical or that has some other feature that would really cost you time, so that became my A goal with finishing before the 32 hour cutoff being my B goal. After my final long training runs of back to back 30 and 20 milers, I was feeling extremely confident going into my three week taper. I even feared that I was dangerously overconfident and I was going into this with way too much optimism and that quite everything I hoped this journey to be could very well come crashing down and destroy me around 70 miles in. Thankfully, that bout of overconfidence passed a few days before the race and I was filled with a more extreme version of the nervous excitement that I am accustomed to before a race.

My basic race strategy went against several of the ultrarunning commandments I have heard stressed time after time on podcasts and in race reports:  don’t go out too fast and don’t try anything on race day that you haven’t practiced on your long runs. I broke both of these to a certain degree. I planned on running the first half faster than the second half for two reasons:  I’d have fresh legs and wouldn’t feel as tired during the first 50 (novicely planning on banking time for the second half) and that I had not done much trail running after dark so I thought even if I am still feeling strong after dark, my pace was still going to suffer due to my inexperience of running trails with a headlamp (breaking two commandments in your overall race strategy, maybe not a good idea for your first 100?).  I further broke the “do nothing you haven’t practiced on long runs” commandment with nutrition/hydration. I had used and was comfortable with everything offered at the aid stations, but decided to bring a couple untested items that I’ve heard raved about on a few occasions. Those items being coconut water and Starbucks frappuccinos, neither of which really caused any problems.


Towards the end of loop #1.

The first 25 mile loop went well and was for the most part uneventful. I started middle of the pack and followed the people in front of me. Probably less than 50 yards from the start, I hear from right behind me, “you’re going the wrong way!”. It turned out the leaders missed an early turn, possibly the first one, before even getting on the trail. Thankfully it was a mistake caught early, but it made for a lot of passing early on as the lead pack attempted to get back to the lead. Other than this, the first lap was smooth and right on my target pace (12 to 14 minute miles). I was eating and drinking at every aid station as planned and was back to the start/finish area in about five hours.

The second loop deviated a little from my plan, mainly because of some chatting I did with another runner. Not that I didn’t talk with anyone during the first loop, but shortly after meeting this runner, Dima was his name, and chatting with him a bit, I found out there were only about five or six runners in front of us. I had no idea until this point how far I had moved up with respect to placement. I had no place goals going into the race, only the 24 hour finish goal which I thought would likely put me into the top 10 if it worked out. Finding out this early on I was already in the top 10 was really unexpected. I also learned that Dima had finished about 13 or so 100 milers and a few 200 milers. With this conversation, I began to think that my newbie overconfidence of the 100 mile distance might wreck my second half. Dima was way more experienced than me and good company so I decided to match his pace for a while. After about 10 miles of running together we were probably still averaging around 14 or 15 minute miles, but I found myself getting angry and frustrated that I wasn’t banking the time in daylight like I had during my first loop. I decided that whether my legs blew up or not due to my plan, I did not want to run angry or frustrated and parted ways with Dima as I picked up my pace to the higher but comfortable effort level I had maintained earlier. I finished the second loop at about the 10.5 hour mark, just a few hours before dark as planned.

Going into my third loop and the unchartered distance of over 50 miles I still felt good and my legs felt like I could push them if needed. I believe I was in fifth place at this time as I passed another runner shortly after parting with Dima. I wanted to maintain the pace from my first 50 miles until the sunset during my third lap. I was able to do this for what seemed much less painful than I had expected until the 10 mile aid station. At that aid station my wife was going to join me to pace me for the remainder of the loop. It was really last minute plans as my wife wasn’t even planning on coming with me to the race until maybe a couple weeks before it. I really had been planning on going solo and not using a pacer, but it was tough to turn down the offer after she had arranged to be there to support me. So after a short stop at the aid station we headed out with our headlamps on as it had quickly gone from sunset to darkness. Surprisingly for both of us, my pace did not slow down a great deal running in the dark. It changed so little that my wife had problems keeping up which was a bit frustrating for me. I’m not saying this to take anything away from my wife or to brag, because she is a good runner, but she is a very apprehensive trail runner even in the daylight. I think the mediocre at best headlamp and technical terrain were the two things really slowing her down. Anyhow, after a couple miles she yelled to me to just go on without her. It was kinda bittersweet as I wanted to run with her, but I didn’t want to have to sacrifice my pace for it. I came into the next aid station (around mile 15 on the loop) at the same time as another runner. I was pretty surprised when the aid station captain announced that we were the third and fourth place runners. I had passed other runners since the last aid station, but I had assumed they were all 100k distance runners. I passed through quickly and continued on feeling good physically for the remainder of the loop. Mentally, however, I was a little worried about both the pressure of knowing the fourth place runner was right behind me and the fact that I had left my wife a few miles back. Maybe it was that or maybe it was just the adrenaline I had flowing that helped me maintain my pace until the finish of the loop when I was able to see her again at the start/finish area and know that she had made it back safe. It turned out she was able to catch a ride back from the next aid station, just a couple miles from where I had left her. That was a bit of relief and peace for me before heading out for my final lap.

I started the final lap with the goal of doing everything I could to maintain my pace until the finish. I left the start/finish area the final time at about the 16 hour mark giving me ample time to meet my 24 hour goal. Although I hadn't gone into the race with any goals of placing, after being in third for about ten miles hanging on to that position had become a goal. Physically I was still comfortable, but mentally I was worrying about other runners who may have been waiting until the final lap to really push. I went through about 13 miles of the loop with nothing but those thoughts circling through my head (other than singing the Finding Dory song that I hear my son sing sometimes to myself, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming”, only I change the “swimming” to “running”). About that time I passed a couple of 100k runners who informed that second place was just a few minutes ahead of me. Over the next two miles to the next aid station I passed about three runners. I wasn’t sure if any of them were the second place 100 mile runner until I reached the aid station to find out I was in second place. It was at that point that for the first time during the race I asked how much farther I had to go until the finish. My gps had been getting farther and farther off

After a nap and a change of clothes.

with every loop, my thinking was a little scattered by this point, and although I had an approximate idea of the spacing, I never knew the exact distances of the aid stations throughout the course. Maybe it was the mental game of knowing how close to the finish I was, but shortly after leaving the aid station I began feeling more pain than I had all day. Primarily in the lower shins just above the ankles which took me by surprise because I normally never have pain in that area and have only had shin splints once before nearly 10 years ago. I figured that a bit of pain during the last 10 miles of a 100 miler is probably pretty normal, so I accepted it and continued on as best I could. I made my final pass through the final aid station and pushed myself through the final tough stretch of the loop that the TARC crew lovingly refer to as “The Grinder”. I guess it gets this name due to how technical it is with lots of exposed rock (which had become pretty slick from the drizzle that had started in the last few hours) and how windy the trail feels through that section. It was just very difficult to maintain any pace or feel any flow when constantly rock hopping and turning. It was pretty amazing how much more difficult it had become the fourth time through compared to the first time when my fresh legs told me it was nearly all runnable. I was grateful to get through without eating it and push with anything I had left for the last mile or so of the course which was pretty easy terrain. When I saw the Christmas lights of the finish area it was a beautiful sight. The only thing that topped it was seeing my 22:02:00 finishing time and being handed a shiny buckle shortly after.

All things considered, I couldn’t have been happier with the outcome. I proved to myself that the 100 miler is achievable. I had a plan (even if it did go against some fundamentals) and for the most part stuck to it. My goal was to get it in under 24 hours or blow up trying to. My inspiration for the all or nothing mindset of that goal really came from watching irunfar’s post UTMB interview of Zach Miller multiple times. The passion, perseverance, desire, disappointment, and heartache was all on full display during that interview. As inspired as I was by that interview, it also haunted me for the last lap. During the interview Zach talks about how things had gone so well for so long until he started bonking with somewhere around 15-20 miles to go. As I was approaching the 80, 85, and 90 mile marks I was almost waiting for things to fall apart. Thankfully, they never really did and the wheels never really came off.

The Buckle!

Scott Snell

October 19, 2016