When polling 100-mile runners about which race was the one not to miss, the Javelina Jundred kept appearing at the top of the list for the fun and experience factors. It is the largest 100 mile party run in the desert including a disco dance floor and music an Jackass Junction (JJ) aid station (10 miles from the start). Halloween costumes are optional and there is great aid station support staff at all stations (Coyote, Rattlesnake and Jeadquarters).
Plus, 300 more runners between the 100k race and a newly added boozy Jackass Trail night race which participants have a choice of 1-2 loops of the 19.45 miles with stopping at JJ aid station to hang out and then finish it into the finish for second half.
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| The start of tent and canopy set up Friday morning. |
Jeadquarters is a lit-up village creating a bigger celebratory atmosphere made up of music, floating bubbles, quality food, a crew and pacer quarter mile loop with tents, canopies, and an energized staff that makes it seem like they are full throttle every time you see them—which is 5 loops ran washing machine style and 30 hours of go, go, go!
This was my "A" race for good reasons. Experiencing the desert beauty, trails and multitude of challenges was going to be completely new, and my a run buddy, Evie, was all in as well.
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| Pre-race start before the swelling … Sharon, Evie, myself, Sue and Hannah |
I KNEW THESE FACTS GOING IN:
7900 feet of total ascend and descend
Which made me shake my head when those that have run it talked about how it is very runnable and relatively flat...
Then, where is the elevation coming from? Javelina does take place at McDowell
Mountain Regional Park, after all. I prepared myself mentally and physically for more of a kickass course than those with amnesia could remember. I thought of the Kettle Moraine that also is about 7,800 feet, with it's "silent killer" hills that blow out quads slowly and severely punished my IT band over the edge last June being unbendable at mile 50. I spent the summer rehabbing the injury with PT and had worked in the strength training from that experience to prevent that same outcome.
Arizona HEAT and no shade
Which is downplayed when people say, "well it's dry heat, not humidity." But this race is notorious for being in the 90s! That is still running in full sun through a day-and-a-half for a middle pack runner like me.
In prepping for the heat and ways to stay cool, I came across
Orange Mud Ice Sleeves as a recommendation from another runner.
They were the key to cooling down from aid station to aid station where I would fill the two pockets with ice and the ice would melt completely over the next 4-6 miles.
Although I had read about the fluid recommendations from loop to loop on the races website, I thought they were too low. I know on a warm day I need 2 liters of fluid for every 20 miles. I needed to be out of water my the time I returned to headquarters or be filling more on course, which I did end up filling on course and drinking 12-14 liters throughout the race.
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| Wearing our filled ice hats....toot, toot!! |
We also used Ice Caps which are filled with ice through a pocket on the top and closed with a drawstring. Our crew thought we looked like railroad conductors and the jokes kept flying…toot, toot… choo, choo, choo, choo…
One flaw in this hat is that the ice tends to melt and is absorbed by the brim and then drips off the front instead of on your head. Time to time I would just hold it on my head to feel the cold.
Last year, 51% finished
That really isn't a great percentage for such a "runnable" race. From the reports I had read and podcasts I listened to, those that had pushed too hard in the first loop and into the second became part of the carnage of very ill, and cramped individuals to be seen in that second loop.
So many issues can occur with lack of fuel and dehydration including cramping, dizziness, and my nemesis—nausea. After running the Lighthouse 100 in 2017 in Northern Michigan with the temperature in 90s plus high humidity, I was anticipating some major heat issues as well as my feet and hands painfully swelling.
The more research I did, the more it became evident that:
• the first 22.3 mile loop I needed to
just be steady and learn the course
• the second 19.45 mile loop I needed to be
slowed down
• the 3rd and 4th 19.45 mile loops I needed to
make up some time
• the 5th 19.45 mile loop I needed to
survive and would be in sun again
Because the the mass of more than 600 runners at the 100 mile start line, this year they set up two waves to alleviate congestion on the trail.
Wave 1: would start 10 minutes earlier with the goal of being under 24 hours for a larger belt buckle.
Wave 2: would be the rest of the bunch. There was no way I was going to even try to hang in that first wave. In my mind, many of these people may be after a 20 hour finish and being around people going out too hard would make me anxious and push myself too hard. Plus, I was going to be out there with Evie, my run buddy also in the race, enjoying the trip around the loops as best we could for at least three of them until we had pacers join in the last two.
I have a history with nausea in 100 milers
There are several things that can cause this issue including:
• heat
• sugar
• dehydration
• too much caffeine
• exertion
Things I worked in to prevent it:
• low regulated sugar with no caffeine in my water pack using Grape Roctane energy drink (bonus that this year it was at the aid stations with other liquid energy!)
• avocado on every loop at head quarters from my crew
• FBomb nut packs for fuel
• Muir Energy Almond for fuel (the new batch I received was too bitter, so I only ate 2!)
• boiled potatoes throughout the race—a complex carb instead of sugars
• bean burrito slices at aid stations
• grilled cheese quarter sandwiches off aid station
• SPARK from Advocate drink for caffeine every 20 miles (I did not drink this mile 80 as I was afraid I was getting an irritated stomach. Maybe it would have woke me up more but I didn't want to chance it.)
• JJ drop bag had placed 6 coconut waters and 8 MaMa Chia packs which I consumed all the water plus more each 20 miles
• consistently be able to use the restroom to prove I'm not dehydrated
WHAT WAS SURPRISING:
Come with your people
The most grand surprise was that that two of mine and Evie's favorite people and run buddies decided to come with us about a month before the race to crew and pace!! EEK! If you have ever tried to run 100 miles on your own non-assisted or even 20, it can get lonely. And if you cave during a dark moment it can mean a DNF. The mind is so powerful in an ultra to push through suffering to reach a goal and it has to be. But when you have a support crew or pacers, you can change your focus, zero in on your "why" as well as they can remind you when you forget—and honestly is is so much more enjoyable as I learned in Grindstone a couple years ago.
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Hannah's first Marathon
(Me, Evie, Hannah and Sue) |
We started running on the weekends with Sue and Hannah about a year ago for enjoyment and each with personal goals. We were flexible to run the distance we individually needed and let's face it, its a very social group. Although Sue will tell you that we do runners math too often and say 8 miles which translates to 12 miles. We frequently ran with up to seven women in our area throughout the summer. It made the miles tick by and we enjoyed some laughs. Plus, last year Hannah was going for her first half marathon and we quickly encouraged a larger goal (because she is could do it!) of a full marathon the next month. She achieved it with us there following her progress. Running is contagious, supportive and can be creative.
Sue invited a new friend along on this Javelina adventure, and with Evie's sister living in Arizona adding two friends, our crew and pace team was looking like the perfect pack set up to succeed.
Not everyone likes to rock out
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| Loop one after Coyote aid station with my hands still normal. |
During the first loop we were getting to know the course. Leaving headquarters the first loop leads left on a white powder sand that runs along ledges and hidden rocks beneath it. The course rolls in and out of wash out areas that are sometime more fish bowl gravel like and harder to run through at the bottom. Eyes stay on the trail and cacti that is everywhere with breaks of running and walking quickly up short climbs. We took in the beauty on those flat moments and were surprised at how green the desert could be. I kept thinking that this felt like an overgrown golf course in the flattest section. Gradually the course goes up and into a rocky ankle twister section where the ground breaks and one needs to be aware in the last three miles before JJ aid station—the most challenging in the 19.45 mile loop. We clocked about 3 hours to climb to the peak. Then we traversed down in a more runnable section of rolling hills back to headquarters, but not in the first loop which has an added couple miles of delight.
It helps me to hear about the course by someone who has ran it while we are running it. I think their memory comes back better being in it again. We briefly met two runners including one who famously dresses as Fred Flintstone. I wish I remembered their names, but I too have amnesia. They relayed that the worse part of the race was going to be the added section with switchbacks in this first loop which would be very rocky and challenging. "You'll be glad when it's over," one of them said before parting ways.
When we entered that section, it was as they had stated—
rocky. The trail went up and around some peaks on ledges and spiraled as well. Not really what I call switchbacks. Surprisingly, I absolutely loved it. I imagined this as an easier section of Grindstone or Superior. Wow, runnable!!
I felt like a kid on a playground and ran through most of it, hiking quickly up the inclines and excited to ask another runner what he thought of it. He relayed that he was NOT ready for this terrain at all and didn't look too well. He later dropped on the second loop. It was around this point I saw a person being carried off the course by medical personnel. This would be one of two people I saw lifted out on a stretcher while on the trail.
Some of the ledges were smaller and tighter as well and a couple women on bicycles came through fast around the corners not caring at all that people were running in a race. This was the one annoyance of the day time running—fast riders zipping close without even an announcement from behind that they are coming through.
It was getting hot and I was out of water in the last mile and told myself to keep moving and get into headquarters. Although I had refilled my pack at JJ, it wasn't enough. I noted to myself not to let this happen again.
Second loop is a Motha!
Evie and I had planned to take the second loop slower with more walking (hiking like a badass when we could), but we still needed to think about time, because we would have to be running down the most technical section after JJ station (mile 10). It was in the 90s (without us being aware of the actual number) and that heat wore on our energy level, as well as those ice sleeves were empty each time we arrived at an aid station. Again the "AHHHH!!" of being able to refill them was refreshing.
I had a very
angry set of blisters coming on the outside of my heals by the time we arrived at JJ. I pre-taped them hoping to prevent this from happening, but that just seems to be my story. My feet are going to blister and peel. I was popping them with a pin I brought through the tape that wasn't going to come off without removing the skin. The seats in the station were filling up with runners not looking as cheerful as earlier with some in need of assistance. Evie helped one young man next to me with pickle juice and I gave him some of my SaltStick Fastchews because he said he had never been cramped up before in his ankles and calfs—hope he made it out of there.
Breaking up is hard to do
We rolled in from that second loop and the sun was coming down. Evie's sister was able to come out on the 3rd loop instead of the 4th because we were a little behind and since we had 5 pacers instead of 4, we could separate if needed. I led the way out with the intent to make up time. We ultimately separated after the first aid station and I was feeling really good with the sun now down and focusing on getting to Hannah at the end of the next 16 miles so she could come out and play. I have participated in enough races that being prepared for anything and everything is the only way to succeed—just think of the one next task at a time whether its an aid station or a person I need to get to. Prepare to be alone at some point with just a thought to get me to the next point.
In this loop, the Jackass Night Trail run started and a mob of people wearing decorative lights, and costumes swept by into the JJ station. They were a fun group and the party was happening. One young woman was covered head to toe in sequins like a Solid Gold dancer. Wearing sequins in the 80s, I had to ask her if it itched. She answered that she itched absolutely everywhere! LOL!
My mission in this party station was to eat, drink coconut water and get out without getting cold or too cooled down. I reminisced about my pacer buddy in Wisconsin to keep me company while in route to Hannah. Darkness can be a friend in the dessert. By this point, I think I was running with the mob of the more sane JJ trail runners that were not drinking in the last 8 miles to headquarters. I met one runner who brought me in the last 3 miles with conversation who was surprised and concerned at how these young runners would make it back safely in this challenging course with cacti everywhere....you and me both!!
Liar, Liar…
It is incredible to have support out there in a quest like this, even if it's a lie. Hannah said later that the crews in the village matched their runners personality whether they were having fun or completely freaking out and yelling when their runner came in. Mine was there to make me succeed and their energy flowed. They followed the guidelines of happy little angels I had planned out for them; from my fueling needs to how to keep me moving and where their attitudes needed to be in different situations, as well as taking care of themselves through the day and night. Cliff notes so to speak.
We laughed about the list of details the night before with Lisa, who was new to this ultra world, and she had pointed out some of the hilariousness of not knowing what I was talking about such as:
Refill my water pack with Roctane unless I request Tailwind naked, and add ice to
my sleeves, hat and buff in day.
But I knew this pack had me. When I came in for loop 4, I picked up Hannah and needed to meet the cut-off to be back and on the course with Sue by 8 a.m.. I had banked some time on that 3rd loop and my intent was to keep it moving in the dark since I would be in the heat again on the last loop through.
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| Pre-race start with Hannah. |
Though it was quite memorable to see some JJ runners walking sideways and having difficulty stumbling back into headquarters through the desert, I'll remember this adventure more with Hannah and I barreling down rock in the safest manor possible and stepping side to side with lights of other runners coming towards us. It was her first real trail experience and she was in the dark doing it well. Or, maybe faking it for my sake. Running down the rockiest section in the
dark made it a whole new experience and like a new trail for me. Every so often, one of us would jam a rock with our foot and just keep on keeping on without a complaint. Hannah convincingly told me something close to this is the
best experience of her life. Later she told me how that might have been true, it was also harder than any marathon. There were a few swear words to describe it particularly when she was asked by another crew member right afterwards. See? Perfect little liar.
Nothing to see here
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Swelling, swelling, swelling
the further I went...
Hamburger Helper
hands with just a knuckle. |
Hannah and I ran in that last mile of loop 4 like it was the finish and we were going to win. One other runner was whistling in excitement as we made the turns in passing several runners in. Hannah had been giving me some pacing times and we were running a less than 12 minute miles around the ledges along the powdered sand and hidden rocks. I am not sure where that zip came from, but my legs felt heavy for the first time when I went back on the course with Sue, which may have been from my lack of caffeine. I didn't take in any in before heading back out as my stomach was feeling unsettled with all the pounding of fluids, pickles, bean burrito slices, avocado, Liquid IVs, etc. throughout the day. My hands had swollen to look like the Handburger Helper character from the 80s, and my skin was tight from retaining a lot of fluid. I might have swollen enough to look like I gained 10lbs through out the race.
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| The Farewell Tour |
Sue and I set out to see the sunrise and she took some photos. When she pointed the camera at me at Coyote station, I decided that it would be a farewell tour to say my goodbyes to the course. They were serving pancakes at this time and while it was warm, it was not so tasty. Everything began tasting acidy—even the gingerale and coke at the stations. We proceeded on and decided that the ice sleeves needed to go on at the next station as it was getting hot again. When you're from Michigan and in Arizona running with no shade, it's always hot. Don't do something dumb like leave those ice sleeves at headquarters. I repeat, do not make such dumbass mistakes.
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| Heading to some rocks so I can add some excitement for my pacer and bleed. |
Moving our way to JJ aid station we were just starting the rocky section at mile 85. Going down hill, my foot finally caught a rock and I went flying forward down to the ground, and for the first time in my life I hit my head on a rock! The blood was instantly in front of me dripping on the dirt, rocks and down my face. I let Sue know that this wasn't going to be good before she could see it. For someone who doesn't do well with the sight of blood, she became a specialist in a matter of minutes. I was so grateful she was there. I had a gash above my eye next to my eyebrow. We applied pressure with her neck gator, and I had remembered the blister kit in my pack was ready to to go. I asked her to access if we could clean with tailwind, use the blister pad and cover this since it wasn't necessary to DNF and I wanted to get through the last two stations unnoticed to finish this. I know it sounds like an immature move, but having trained for months, pass DNFs, and the finish in my grasp, I just couldn't let it go. I was here to finish it and not make excuses. What the heck?! Kiss my arse, DNF rock! I hadn't blacked out, become dizzy or had any concussion signs, and so we agreed that if I felt dizzy we were done. Honestly, there was no way I wanted to hit a cactus next! The blister patch covered the gash and we covered that with my neck gator and hat—looking just a little more dorky at this race was wrapping up well. I didn't think that was possible, but is surely was.
Arriving at JJ station I cleaned my hands and gator with water, ate a little and Sue helped me wrestle the sleeves on my ginormous club hands which was a struggle. It was like putting on pants two sizes too small, but we did it! I can only imagine a video of seeing someone else do this.
This day, even more bicyclists were out shredding up the trail and flying by without warning—not a great experience after 90 miles. I began thinking that this event wouldn't be over until I was hit by a bicyclist traveling at full speed or possibly my pacer on the ground in a cactus.
We were on the last 10 mile stretch and we kept up with our run/walk pattern and started seeing a lot more runners and pacers hiking it in slowly or hobbling with what I imagined was their feet in blister hell. One guy was walking on the heels of the back of his shoes. I knew I must of had a nail come completely off since that toe didn't hurt anymore and a few others were crying out along with my blistered heels still nagging. The pain at the bottom of my feet ached hard and felt like I had been running on rock barefoot for hours. I kept telling myself the same thing thoughout the race, "Get over this shit. Slam through it." Just another piece of me made from other tough races and now this one.
Sue hinted about the next 100 mile race and I talked about running 50s for the next year. She laughed and later reiterated my crazy thoughts of running 50s after this race. It took 17 hours after the end of this race to want to sign up again. That's a good race!
About two miles out from the finish a man stood waving the belt buckle and yelling, "This is waiting for you! Go get it!" I looked at Sue and remarked, "That looks tiny and nobody out here persevering for that. It's about the finish of 100 miles." Although I look at a buckle or medal and can reflect on a particular race, it's always the journey, people and finish that makes me feel attached to it—even the volunteers which were so genuinely caring in this race contributed to the vibe. The buckle may be the sign that I finished, but it's never my why to finish and I can discard it too easily. I placed a thought of my kids in my head and knew that they would feel proud when this was accomplished, and finishing would solidify that I indeed "got this" 100 mile race. That "why" was so much stronger and grew which each step.
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High five to Lisa before entering the celebration
finish last quarter mile. And, sporting my stylish
head wrap to cover the damage. |
Looking around, most of the runners we saw and passed in that last 10 miles were woman. I don't think it's because we women are slower. I think it's because we survive when things get hard and painful. We bite down, and maybe problem solved this particular race better. Or maybe, those of us still moving forward didn't go out thinking this was happening in under 24hours.
When we finally approached the entrance to headquarters camp finish line and saw our gang waiting, about 5 bicyclist came flying at us. Surely, I felt this was it. We are not leaving until one of us is hit and on the ground and I am just a quarter mile from the finish line.
Sue and Evie ran with me for that last time through the camp and to the timers where I crossed the line with the race director still going full party mode and announcing.
100 mile finisher 29:05
2018: 61% finisher rate
When asked what it feels like to finish such an adventure, my mind reflects on how big the picture really is and what it feels like to experience all the pieces coming together—not only from this adventure and training session including PT, but all the steps including failures and successes that came before to shape this journey and make it worthy of finishing. Finishing 100 miles is a gritty, grande supreme success!
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| Put your hands in the air like you really do care … running and screaming, that's the only way to finish 100 miles. |
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100 miles of badass mother runner, a new scar and a trip to Urgent Care to be glued.
Note: Not all head wounds are equal. I would never keep going in a race if I thought my life was in danger. |
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| Belt buckle to remind me of the many lessons and people of Javelina. |
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| My feet and gators at the end. Gators—another "must" for the desert. |
