[The 60 second version]           

My first 100 miler:  27 hr 37 min 38 sec.

313 runners.  237 men.  77 women.  The youngest was 21 years old and the oldest, 66.   Of the 313 runners, 254 finished within a time limit of 30 hours.  The top woman was also the first to cross the finish overall?.  Of the top ten finishers, half were women.  This is insane and some pretty awesome sauce!

Through ultra trail running, I have carved out a new space or rather a retreat in life.  And it is in this very tiny compartment that I find belonging and support, where I am offered a place to confront adversity, discomfort, pain, fear and anxiety and exit with self confidence, validation, humility and achievement in equal measure. 

Goal:  Finish my first 100 mile without cramping between 28-30 hours

Training:  C

Race:  B

Weather:  A+ (53°F at 4am; 85°F high)

Crew:  A+

Organizers & Volunteers:  A+

[The five minute version]

A Race That Was Years in Making.  

In 2021 I logged my first trail running race at the Breakneck Marathon.  26.4 miles, ~8,600ft vertical gain.  The course was wet and technical.  There was no medal and no fanfare.  And I loved it.  The simplicity and camaraderie yield a strong sense of community that suits a workhorse like me.  That very month, I also logged my first road marathon that qualified me for the Boston Marathon.  I had thought I was near my limits.  

Since then, I gradually stretched for longer distances:  50km to 50 miles to 100km to 70 miles.  The 100km mark came last year at Canyon Endurance near Sacramento, CA  where a small part of the race overlapped with the Western States 100, a mythical trail race akin to the Boston Marathon.  As I crossed the finish at Canyon, happy tears rushed down my face.  That was 66 miles and 10K ft of vert and it blew my mind that I was able to complete it and still able to walk the next day.  The goal was to finish before the cut off so I could earn 6 stones (lottery tickets) for a chance to race in an alphabetic soup of grandiose races called the UTMB World Series in Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in the Alps.  After the race, I found out that my time at Canyon would qualify me to enter into the lottery for the Western States 100 as well and for the first time, I thought I should prepare for that possibility and opportunity.  UTMB is pretty cool but Western States 100 is well Western States.

I had zero knowledge or intention to run a 100 mile race prior to that, specially after a personal account of a close friend of his 100 mile endeavor and how he would rather run shorter distances.  What makes Western States 100 special is that the race only grants 375 entries each June with only ~270 entries available to the race lottery.  Last year, there were 7,169 entrants in the lottery.  According to one report, the expected number of years to get into the Western States 100 is 6.8 years.  Well, it’s a long shot but it’s a free option to me post Canyon.  Free sounds pretty awesome.

Fast forward one year, I started from scratch and hoped to build up to a 100 miler.  Lucky me, I won the lottery to Vermont 100, a historic and iconic race that first started as a horse race (apparent there was a time when 100 miles were only deemed possible if the subject is literally in beast mode) and is the ONLY race that holds a concurrent 100 miler horse race.  Vermont within hours from home and in an area that I frequented and many fond memories were weaved there.  So, here I came, Vermont 100.

Since 100 miles seemed like a big jump from 100k (37 miles more), I staggered runs ahead of the race to train and calm my nerves.  Each race felt like an additional rung on the ladder to VT 100.  There was also an 8 hour volunteer requirement for the VT 100 so my friends and I took an aid station at the NYC Trail Fest in May.

• April:  Shore to Shore 100K to qualify for VT 100
• May:  Bear Mountain 50K to stay race ready
• June:  Laurel Highlands 70 as a dress rehearsal for VT 100 

Shore2Shore 100K (April 13)

Bear Mountain Trail Challenge 50K (May 4)

Laurel Highlands Ultra (June 8)

NYC Trail Fest Aid Station (May 31)

100 miles and 27+ hours created a lot of memories and details but if they ever faded, these are three things I will always remember from VT 100

1. The shared experience with my friends, other runners, pacers and everyone who was present that day
2. The preparation and dedication of the organizers, volunteers, spectators and people of Vermont
3. The beauty of the VT farmlands, meadows and rolling hills 

[The Full Account…]

I.  Pre Race

1.  The 100 Course 

    The stats:  

• Officially?  100 miles with 68 miles of rolling dirt roads, 30 miles of horse trails, and 2 miles of pavement.  
• 17,000 ft elevation gain (as a point of reference, the Empire State Building from base to antenna is 1,454ft so 11.7x of them)
• 9 towns and countless private properties courtesy of 70+ landowners.  

The course is a three loop cloverleaf:  

1. Start – Mile 47
2. Mile 47 – 69.5
3. Mile 69.5 to 100

No notable long or steep climbs.  Just relentless rolling hills that call upon a Forrest-Grump-sorta-tenacity.  I studied the route and marked all the ascents over 400ft to visualize these climbs and compared them to training runs of similar profile in anticipation of the gradients and effort.  The one thing that I could not simulate was the fatigue and situations arisen after 60, 70, 80, 90 and 99 miles of running under whatever weather circumstances on race day.

Hotter conditions favor me so heat management wasn’t a primary concern.  Nonetheless I prepared ziplock bags to carry ice in my neck cooler.  That said, mother nature could not have been kinder on this summer day.  I am easily irritated by bugs and to prevent previous experiences with horseflies, gnats, mosquitoes, etc…, I got myself a net to loop over my head which was not needed this time.  

After I learned that my friends would crew for me, I realized I couldn’t just go with the flow.  So guestimated my arrival time at each crew station and hoped that 1) they would never not want to crew again, 2) they would not be feeding themselves to the mosquitoes while waiting and 3) my crew would fine tune as we go.  

2.  When Labeling Is Very Appropriate

I had planned to run solo at first which meant that I had to plan the drop bags (bags that are given to the race staff pre-race to be delivered to designated aid stations) very carefully.  I would had to estimate the arrival time to assess when and where items such as headlamps, extra socks, change of clothes, shoes, energy, Vaseline, etc would be needed….Then the angels came.  A few weeks prior to the race, my trail running friends from Bergen Runners surprised me by informing me that they would crew for me.  

Running solo in the dark was unimaginable before Laurel Highlands 70.  Since then, the fear for the monsters in the woods in the dark had faded some.  I had also practiced drop bag strategies at Laurel Highlands to familiarize myself with the details and considerations for drop bags.  VT 100 doesn’t allow for runners with a crew to drop bag so I had to switch to a crew mode.  

None of us had officially crewed in a 100 miler which meant expectation for a learning curve needed to be high.  I also need a system that would be easy for my crew to find and lay out the items so I devised a three compartment system:  Fueling, Medical and Attire/Socks/Shoes.

I carefully labeled everything like I used to when sending things with my toddlers to pre-school but still prepared myself for curve balls.  And the curve ball delivered itself at T minus 6 hours: all three of my hydration vests did not make it to VT.  I had planned to rotate them to avoid chaffing.  My pacer, Eileen, without skipping a beat, and made me an offer I could not refuse: “Take mine.”  Phew….

3.  The Cool-headed Crew

“This sport [trail running] as basically a tool to make memories with people and in places.”  C. Dauwalter.

Crewing is equal part science and art, built upon observation, trial and error, trust and chemistry.  I was still in disbelief that my first 100 miler would be supported by incredible friends and trail runners, Eileen, Wei, Hui (王爺) and Pan Yan, who have been on the other side and could helped me with this checklist:

• Refill the flasks
• Transport food and drinks that I like and not offered at the aid stations
• Help me keep the feet dry and blister free 
• Swap out any garbage and switch in new flasks (my original plan to swap vests)
• Refill the ice under the hat and in the neck cooler
• Have folks check in on me, specially if my head isn’t working 
• Be more efficient at aid stations

Working with the crew was a new experience for me.  Chemistry and gentle candor matter but I was worried that fatigue and the race would deplete my energy to be on good behavior.  Everyone hits a low point on a 100 miler and I figured if anyone is going to see me in my worst form, they’d be folks I was comfortable with seeing my fly down or with a piece of vegetable stuck between my teeth.  Someone who won’t lose their cool when I lose mine.

I didn’t think too much about the advantage of having a crew ahead of the race, after all I raced in Laurel Highlands solo and learned running through the night by myself.  As the race drew closer I was so glad that I didn’t have to think about packing 8 drop bags and what a luxury it was to have endless fueling options.  I also didn’t fully appreciate the time advantage of having the crew take care of the refilling and replenishment at these stations or their moral (and medical) support.  

The race understandably did not share the GPS to the crew station to minimize overcrowding and encroaching onto the residents in the area.  As such, the crew could only go by paper directions and Amazing-Raced from one station to another.  I didn’t think I need support until further into the race so we agreed for the crew to start at Mile 30.5 at Crew Station #2.  The crew decided to see me, the runners and the horses off then explore the area.  They ended up logging 8 miles and 2,800 ft of vert.

We agreed to meet at 6 of the 8 crew aid stations.  

Eileen was to pace me starting Mile 70.  I was skittish about her pacing me, specially after a dreadful  finish at the Shore to Shore 100k.  My training had been sporadic and inadequate with a hectic schedule off the trails and some physical issues that I had been dealing with.  I was really torn about taking her on another death march.  She was persistent in assuring me that my concerns are overblown and made me another offer that I couldn’t resist.  I think the common theme is Eileen makes irresistible offers.

4.  The Loosey-goosey Strategy  

• Break the course down into 3 loops.  
• Walk on ascents, shuffle on the flats and roll down the hills.
• Grab and go.  Don’t get comfortable at aid stations.
• Do what feels sustainable at the moment.
• Just get to the next aid station (Ripped from Eileen’s playbook).
• Solve one puzzle at a time.
• Motto of the day:

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

Right foot.  Left foot. 

• Look good.  Have fun.  Look good.

5.  T’was the Day and Night Before.

T minus ~12 hours at Silver Hill Meadow.  Silver Hill Meadow is 5 min from Ascutney, 30 min from Okemo and 20 min from Woodstock, VT.  Soon as the car door popped open, the large grass field invited all our senses.  We grabbed my bib, the pacer bib and the crew tag. 

Met Chase the Summit who is as nice in person as he seems virtually (and Wei scored a complimentary T-Shirt from a lucky wheel spin), a report and fellow Chinese runners from Boston and CA.  I make a point now to acknowledge and reach out to BIPOC runners as a way to support and encourage them and myself.  If I wish to be seen, I must first see.  

Boston Burn 犇 Runners (L to R) 1. YB Zhang, M6 100K 2. BH Zhang, W5 100K 3. XL He, VT100M Finisher

The energy was electric.  Family, friends, horses, riders, carriages, VT plates, out of state plates, seasoned runners, first timers, Grand-slammers, Western States 100 finishers, 2023 deferrers, earthly mix of runner types from string beans to pears (that’s me), lumberjacks to Ironman and everything in between, reporters, staff, volunteers, organizers, etc…The party was on!

Getting a good night of sleep the night before a race just doesn’t happen for me.  Instead of getting anxious and nervous, I just accepted it.  We headed back to the house and I started my ritual:  lay out all the gear, get into my race kit, tape my toes, lube my under arms, inner thighs, waistline, scribble all major climbs and aid stations onto the bib, etc…By the time I was done, it was nearly 11pm and time to hit the bed.

6.  In the Vest.

What to carry between aid stations is a personal choice.  Too little, I’d be underprepared.  Too much, I’d be carrying extra weights.  I tried the handheld option and just don’t like carrying my fluid on my hand. This is an evolving list but I went with these in my vest this time:   

• 2-500ml hydrapak flasks
• Packs of vaseline
• Salt tablets
• Advils
• Chargels, Murten and SIS gels
• Compressed towel tablets
• A pair of socks
• A net for the hat

I have a lot of experience with the Salomon Sense Pro vest but still learning to pare down.  The pack is light and have a lot of pockets but chaffing around the collarbone usually starts around 50 miles so the plan was to vaseline the hell out of myself throughout the race.   

III.  The Race

Loop 1

Section 1: It Wasn’t A Pretty Start 

Start to Pretty House (Mile 0-21)

2:30am alarm.  3:15am the pre-race rituals continued: eat, drink, empty the bowel, take a deep breath and depart from the house.  Arrived a tad later than I like to the start and the tent was already full at this point.  The check in is pretty manual.  No tracking.  No chip.  Gun time for all. 

4am.  No music.  No fanfare.  No gunshot.  No speech.  Just some low volume convo’s and just like that 3, 2, 1 and the headlamps and light bubbles bounced off.  I stayed with the back of the pack and took it really easy.  Only needed the headlamps for about a couple of hours.  This stretch was mostly packed dirt road.  I hadn’t had to navigate much as I never ran alone during this stretch.  The yellow plate marking was unique and visible, though some were placed a bit high for runners.

After surveying runners who had raced in this course (verdict was split) and having watched clips of races, I decided to start with road shoes.  It will be 30.5 miles before I would see my crew for a shoe swap but I heard the back half was more technical so I took a chance.  

I was a bit oozy and muted during this stretch.  For some reason the early miles weren’t easy which freaked me a bit with 80-90 miles plus ahead.  I felt sleepy and the legs were heavy.  Then we came to Taftsville and folks were sitting on their lawn cheering.  That woke me up a bit.  Passed by the first riders and horses at Mile 15 at the Taftsville Bridge.  Stoked by this familiar and much-anticipated landmark.  It’s one good looking bridge.  I didn’t expect to see a manned aid station but there was one shortly after the bridge.  It was like hitting a mini jackpot.  I chomped down 4 slices of the palest, albeit surprisingly sweet watermelons I had seen in my life, refilled my bottles and started climbing.  

At the top of this ~900 ft climb was the first crew station at Mile 21 where there were many pretty houses but I only remember the sight and sounds of the cowbells and loud cheers.

Section 2: The 1st Reunion with the Crew 

Pretty House to Stage Road (Mile 21 – 30.5)

8:30am at Pretty House.  Race Time:  4:30.  Bacon, the only time I don’t feel guilty for eating them!!!  Refilled my bottles and eavesdropped on a pair bickering sisters who argued over who should man the grill.  They reminded me of my preteen girls and that warmed my heart and brought a smile to my face.  They girls should be on their way to church.  I thanked the family and hurried off.  

We were off dirt road in this section and onto single track and around mile 28-29 we came out the woods onto this grassy mountaintop with a panoramic view of the Green Mountains.  Holy Moly.  Everyone paused to soak in this Sound-of-Music scenery and I later found out this highest point of the race is indeed called the Sound-of Music hill.  The road shoes that worked previously met their challenge on the more rugged, steep singletrack downhill.  I wish I had my trail shoes for this long descent.  Bugger.  You win some, you lose some. 

The sun started to rise and so did the temperature.  I took the compressed towel that Wei gave me and soaked it at every water station to keep myself cool.  I don’t know if it was the bacon, the scenery or the prospect of seeing my crew in a couple of miles but my strides and strength returned.  And for the next 60-70 miles I was cruising.  

Section 3: Cruising Through the Last of the 1st Loop

Stage Road to Camp 10 Bear (Mile 30.5 – 47)

10:55am at Stage Road.   Race time:  6:55.  I saw Hui (王爺) first.  Mentally stuck in solo mode, I stayed longer at the race station to refill my bottle and got ice instead of running to my crew right away.  It took me a couple of minutes to realize Hui was there to lead me to my crew.  They already had a table, chair and everything else set up.  Without skipping a beat, Wei, Eileen and Yan went to work like the Formula One crew.  Their hands multi-tasked like the tentacles of a octopus.  Eileen focused on my pack; Wei and Yan helped with my sock and shoe changes while I devoured on an iced congee (八寶粥).  It’s started to feel hot now.  I switched to the toe socks, trail shoes and put on the ice cap.  I gave the girls a hug knowing it was another 17+ miles before I would see them again. 

I was energized as I left the station, only to find myself following runners going the wrong way.  Thankfully it was only for ¼ mile before race staff/volunteers turned us around.  The ski slope climb out of the station (formerly known as Suicide Six) was brutal but I was in great spirit and started chatting with other runners at this point.  I met a fellow runner from NJ and a Chinese runner from the west coast.  Sharing the miles with them made this stretch easier and the climbs bearable.  

It was getting really hot and I was indulging on the little surprises along the non-crew aid stations:

• Host with the hose (Mile 33.5? Rte 12):  you kept my fingers cool and lessened the swell.  For the rest of the race I tried to grab onto as much ice as possible with my hands to keep the fingers from swelling.
• Iced popsicle (Mile 38?  Lincoln Covered Bridge)
• Frozen pickle juice pop (Mile 44? Lillians)!  Seriously, how freaking awesome!  Mixed with more pickle juice and served up a double pickle cocktail.

I also started to connect with other runners.  The first runner I chatted with was T from NJ!!  Woohoo.  We had just left Mile 44 aid station and the sun on right above us.  We were on a stretch of paved county road and he was behind me.  He had this incredibly soothing voice that reminded me of Matt Damon from a scene out of Good Will Hunting opposite Robin Williams in his office.  It was just calming.  We chatted about the challenge of being a parent and making time for ourselves on the trail.  Then I bummed into V, a Chinese runner from the west coast, who told me he was running this solo so I invited him to meet my crew at Camp 10.  He was far more experienced than I was at 100 milers and I felt great to be in his mix.

Loop 2

Section 4:  Feelin’ Groovy At Half Way

Camp 10 Bear #1 to Margaritaville (Mile 47 – 59)

3:25pm.  Race time:  11:25.  I was so excited to hit this almost-half-way mark that I literally sprinted into the station.  The energy was through the roof at Camp Ten as this was a key aid station that doubled as a crew station for Mile 69.  We would go out on a 20’ish mile loop and come back here at Mile 69 where we could start picking up our pacer.

The crew went to work right away with a similar routine: Hui (王爺) led me to the crew area (this time I remembered not to go to the official station) and the crew worked on the ice, flasks, etc…  They told me that I looked good.  I echoed their assessment but noted that I was getting overheated and Yan applied bio freeze on my body.  I have never used it as a cooling tool and it worked like magic!!!  I had another iced congee (八寶粥) and that felt amazing.  Swapped into a clean shirt but my feet felt great so kept the shoes and socks.  I forgot to lube my collarbones at the last station and made a point to plaster wherever it was needed and took some with me on the road.  

I looked at my watch.  Wow 14’ish min/mile pace and feeling fantastic.  I started to think 24 handle was a possibility (very wishful thinking).  My goal was 28-30 hours coming into the race.  I hadn’t shared this with my crew because pace wasn’t a priority up to this point and the possibility wasn’t a consideration until then.  

Then I arrived at the foot of Trace Brook for a ~750ft climb at Mile 56  and it chiseled at my goal and spirit.  I was leapfrogging, getting passed on the climbs, passing on the downs and chatting with runners whenever.  Whenever I was solo, I went back to counting hills.  7 notable uphills done.  9 to go. 

Section 5:  Twelve Hours Had Passed

Margaritaville to Camp 10 Bear (Mile 59 to 69)

~6:25pm.  Race time:  14:25.  I arrived before the crew did at Margaritaville.  The poor reception meant we couldn’t exchange our whereabouts but I gave one more try before heading out of the station.  Thankfully we connected and they were just pulling into the station.  I was worried that they would worry about not seeing me.  And I knew the feeling was reciprocated.

I saw more families and crew waiting for their runners at this station and wondered if the heat slowed down others as well.  This had been a brutal loop so far with more direct sun exposures and rolling climbs.   

I had chomped down on potatoes, chips and other snacks at the official station so I didn’t have another iced congee.  Just drank the rest of watermelon juice that my dad had prepared for me and that nourished my spirit to feel his presence on the race.  In hindsight, I should also take down a can of congee as the energy level started to recede as the daylight began to cede.   

The long descent into Camp 10 Bear was exhilarating.  Since I was a slow climber, I relied heavily my little legs and lower center of gravity on aggressive assaults on the descents to offset the climbs.  

Loop 3

Section 6:  The Sun Sets on the Final Loop and the Energy Dropped

Camp 10 Bear #2 to Spirit of 76 (Mile 69 to 76.5)

9:05pm.  Race Time:  17:05.  I was done with the second loop.  69 miles in the bag.  I felt relieved knowing there are “only” 31 miles left.  And I had company for the rest of the way.  Eileen was ready with her full armor of gear and I felt assured.  I gulped down some ramen which felt like a 5 course feast at this point.  I looked at my watch and was on target for 24hr handle finish so was eager to keep moving.   I felt confident I would finish the race which provided some mental relief.

I was venturing into a new distance that I had never done before, pushing the limits of body and spirit.  I hurriedly changed into another shirt and wished I had a pack to switch into because my pack was just soaked at this point.  Too late now.  Grab my headlamp and waistlamp.  Gotta go.  This section of the course started to get more technical.  I was pleasantly surprised that I was moving well and still able to hustle on the downs.  In previous races, I would have started to run/walk around mile 60-65.  We passed many runners at this point which made me happy and nervous at once.

Section 7:  Darkness With A Little Less Than A Marathon Remaining

Spirit of 76 to Bill’s (Mile 76.5 to 88)

11:30pm at Spirit of 76.  Race Time 19:30.  I found out later that my crew had trouble finding this station but when I saw they didn’t share any of these details to free me from concerns.  Things started to quiet down in this station as darkness descended on the course.  The more jubilee mood from earlier stations was replaced by more sullen vibes.  My fatigue also started to creep in but I was still passing many in the last stretch.  

The only thing that troubled me was the growing tunnel vision in both eyes.  I mentioned in passing to my crew that I could not see from the corner of my eyes.  More worrisome for me was that black area was growing.  Hui (王爺) pointed out my eyes are puffy and my face is swollen.  He immediately asked if I had passed urine earlier and I said I had not since mid-morning and he asked about my liquid intake.  Up to that point I had strictly been taking electrolyte fluids.  He said I need to switch to water as the electrolytes and sodium levels were likely out of balance.  I stared at him with a mix of hesitation, fear and anxiety and asked if he was sure. To that, he said he was a doctor and to lighten my mood, I jokingly responded with “A doctor of what, pets?”  He assured me that he was a urologist in his previous life and we broke into laughs.  

Shortly after we left, we went off course a couple of time.  The darkness tempered with our visibility.  No biggie.  Just part of trail races.  Eileen immediately routed us back on course.  

When we arrived at Cowshed aid station, my stomach didn’t agree with me anymore.  I was still running but I knew the rough was about to get going.  Fatigue definitely impaired judgment which might have been the reason, I opted not to eat so I could keep going.  In hindsight, I wonder if there is also a correlation between fatigue and loss of appetite.  

Section 8:  Pain Cave Through Less Than a Half Marathon

Bill’s to Polly’s (Mile 88 to 94.5)

3:15am at Bill’s.  Race Time:  23:13.  What appeared to be benign looking climbs and descents started to feel like Mt. Everet and I started to slow down significantly between the darkness, exhaustion and rolling hills.  I wished it wasn’t so dark so I could rely on the scenery to distract me. 

Arriving at Bill’s, I knew this would be the last time I see my crew.  I saw runners who took refuge in the barn.  The crew told me about runners who were taking naps on the stretchers.  The aid station felt more like an infirmary.  And I hit my low:  burning quads, gassy stomach, foggy mind, persisting tunnel visions, etc…

Just then, Yan reminded me of my toothbrush that I packed as a joke.  I had thought when i hit my low, I would channel the spirit of Courtney Dauwalter and brush my teeth.  And who knew a set of clean teeth would be so satisfying.  Yan reminded me to add flossing next time for the full experience.

My mouth and stomach both didn’t feel like any intake would stay down at this point but in hindsight, that was a poor decision.  At the minimum I should have taken some caffeine.  I was naive to think I could naturally stay up for another 5-6 hours.  

And with that, I limped out of the “Last Aid Station”.  Those first steps were brutal.  My legs were locked from sitting and became numb.  I jumped up and down to get some feelings back.  The first mile was crazy as we hit an incline that pitched at >20°.  Just three significant climbs remaining, so I kept telling myself.  At this point, I was running whenever I could but I could no longer run the downs.  The light from the glow stick was slowly and eerily replaced by slighter of sunlights as the sun slowly creeped up.  The woods, dirt roads and grassy fields became one mushy memory.  

Section 9:  The Shinto Temple

Sleep Stretch – Polly’s to Finish (Mile 94.5 to Finish) 

5:30am at Polly’s.  Race time: 25.30.  I had underestimated the number of hills in the final stretch of the race.  There were no major climbs but we were still averaging close to ~200ft/mile.  My legs did not cramp but started to twitch and I could feel the pressure on my rib cage with each breath.  Dryness started to take reign in my throat and I started coughing more.  I was cranky and miserable and poor Eileen just let me be.  “How on earth did this girl run for 40+ hours?“

At about mile 98, we got to the base of the final climb and we entered into wooded area again.  And hallucination and I found each other for the first time in my life.  I can now boast the power of the psychedelics during a run.  The woods became an enchanted forest with a shinto shrine with silent monks roaming around me.  I kept asking myself where and what was I doing.  And I wasn’t hiking up straight so I picked up a couple of branches  to help anchor my footing.  Minutes passed before I snapped back into reality and pulled myself up for more than two endless miles before we finally arrived at the chute to the finish.  I mustered all my strength and ran the final stretch.  I was so happy to see the RD, Amy Rusiecki, who welcomed every runner at the finish line and handed me my first 100 miler buckle.  Canyon 100k belt has found a buckle.  

I turned around and saw Eileen behind me.  I grabbed her hand and searched for the crew.  The job was done.  Roughly 4 out of 5 runners who started with me finished, and I was among the lucky ones.  

Takeaways

• Shoes:  Road shoes would work well until the 1st aid stations.  Thereafter, I would go with trail shoes.  The non-technical sections were waterlogged and uneven from hoofs.  
• Blister Management:  Taping, shoe and sock changes, I am finally on track of solving blisters issues.  Still learning and improving.  Adding baby powder to the toolbox next time.
• Fueling:  Prior to VT100, I have only had run up to mile 70.  New distance, new issues.  I was never one to be so precise with my energy intake to the dot.  Approximation was good for 70 miles.  Not good for 100 miles.
• Fluids:  Instead of focusing on fluid intake, I need to be more mindful of releases as well.
• Crew:  Be specific with the crew.  Be kind.  Be honest.  Be grateful.  Your chemistry matters.  I would prepare a checklist of things to do or ask me at every station.  It is easy to get zero’ed into checking in with the runners and forget the tasks at hand
  • Bug spray
  • Lube
  • Trash
  • Specific energy intake
  • Ice 
  • Hydration
  • Sock, shoe and attire change
• Silver Lining:  It matters that I could run for 90 miles but it sucks when I couldn’t run the last 10 miles.  Go back to the drawing board and make that happen for the next one. 

Gear 

• Road Shoes: Brooks Adrenaline GTS (Mile 0-30.5)
• Trail Shoes:  Hoka Tecton (Mile 30.5 – Finish)
• Gaiter:  Altra Trail Gaiter
• Socks:  Balega Hidden Comfort & Injinji Ultra Run Crew
• Singlet: New Balance Achieve Short Sleeves & Rabbit Runtee
• Shorts: T8 Sherpa & Commando
• Sports Bra: Nike Dri-FIT Indy Light-Support V-Neck
• Hat:  Adidas & Nathan RunCool Ice Run Hat
• Sunglasses:  Goodr Not a Phase, a Transformation 
• Vest:  Salomon Sense Pro 10
• Watch:  Garmin Fenix 7S
• Headlamp:  Black Diamond Revolt 350
• Waistlamp:  Ultraspire 600 3.0

• Results:  https://www.webscorer.com/race?raceid=359356
• Strava:  https://www.strava.com/activities/11952350046
• Next Race:  UTMB CCC (Courmayeur Champex Chamonix 100k)

Legend has it that Pheidippides, an ancient Greek messenger, raced from Marathon to Athens, a distance of ~25 miles, collapsed and died after making his announcement.  And now all marathoners have him to thank for.  Had this poor lad, let’s call him Phil for simplicity sake, had the top-notch crew I had last Sunday, he would have lived to tell the tale.  The story would start with Phil’s teammate reaching out to him days ahead of the race to offer words of support and assured him that he would be under her meticulous care.  Phil would then have another friend drive him to the starting point at 4:15 in the morning.  Another teammate of Phil would prepare a care package filled with energy boosts, drinks, gels, salt tablets and lots of hearts drawn on the zip lock bag (hand-drawn heart cures all ills in the world).  More friends would accompany Phil to the starting line.  (Note to all race directors:  Mark your starting point with a “Start” sign.  Turned out it was nearly impossible to find a race start without any signage or direction.)  At last when Phil’s friend saw the race started at gun time and Phil missed the start, his friend would advocate on his behalf and the race director would shave off 30 seconds from the start time.  Fellow marathoners, learn from Phil’s story — choose your friends and crew carefully.

And so the race began.

How It All Started

But it didn’t begin there for me.  It actually started two years ago.  A social half marathon at the NJ Marathon morphed into a quixotic quest for BQ.  Chasing and lassoing the mythological unicorn.  Literally.  My time was 1:51:21 or 8:30min/mile.  BQ for my gender and age group at the time would be 8:23min/mile for twice the distance.  Out of my depth?  Out of my league?  Is it laughable?  Or is it possible?  I consulted a trusted voice and the affirmation comforted me.  How?  Go read this book.  So I did.  I read more than a book.  I replaced my entire bedtime stack.

Training – How to Not Love Running

I started listening to podcasts.  Investing in more gears.  Shoes.  Heart Rate Monitor.  All kinds of trinkets.  Read more books.  Look for inspirations.  Combed through Strava records of more experienced runners.  I started following a training plan in late 2019 with the goal of attempting to lasso the unicorn at the 2020 NJ Marathon.  Instead I struggled with the training.  I HATED speed work.  I dragged running.  It was no longer fun.  On the day that I completed my best tempo run, a major injury on the ankle and heel set me back for weeks.  At that point, training and I had a fairly nasty divorce and parted ways.

COVID 2020 – When Running (and the World) Ended

Then COVID hit.  I was case #7 or #8 in my town.  I was a serious at home case which meant I gasped for air and could hardly walk more than 5 steps without huffing and puffing.  All my muscles were gone.  I lost 13 lbs in three weeks.  I felt like a rag doll.  A week after recovery I ran for the first time and had doubts if my lungs were permanently damaged.  There was no conclusive study, just hearsays and I accepted the possibility that I may never run again.  It felt dark but if the world was falling apart which was what it seemed like at the time, running was probably the least important human concern.  So I put an end to the self-pity.  Finally I felt normal again after a few months.

New Running Goals

After COVID, I had decided that I would only run for fun and set aside the quest to chase the unicorn.  Instead, I got back on my saddle and started riding on my road bike again.  I dabbled in trail running.  I made a commitment to run everyday if I could.  At any pace.  I was having fun.  I overlooked the technicality of the sport.  Instead, it became a mental exercise.  How can I enjoy my long runs?  What do I fill my head with for an hour?  two hours?  three hours?  What should I focus on?

My pace was characteristically dull if that was the only metric.  My Strava does not warrant any following but I was back to enjoying running.  I started running every street in Fort Lee.  Then other towns in Bergen County.  I am on town #11 now.  It is like treasure hunt.  I discovered hidden streets.  Less-frequented parks.  Secret pathways.  They were all gems.  I was becoming a local legend in my own mind (a title that Strava denies me of.  No offense taken.)

The Illusion of the Unicorn Returns

With the dim prospect of in-person races, most, if not all races were taking place virtually.  Without any concrete goals or target, I volunteered at my team’s virtual Boston Marathon event and I think I really excelled in the cheerleading and signage department.  I ran 22.3 miles that day for fun and pleasantly surprised myself with a pace of 8:35min/mile.  A teammate asked why I didn’t run the entire distance.  The truth was I didn’t set expectations which was the path of the most resistance to any disappointment in my running.  Plus my daily runs offered no insights that I could possibly chase down the unicorn.  That day I realized there was a race-day-Amy who I just met for the first time and the idea of lassoing the unicorn returned.

Then came the Virtual NYRR NYC Marathon last October and I shocked myself with a time of 3:37:50.  I held an incredibly steady pace of ~8:15-8:20min/mile and easily finished the race.  When a teammate who helped pace me asked me for my time at the end, I did a double take because I thought I read the screen wrong.  Who was this person?  I reside in the 9 to 10 min/mile pace handle on my daily runs.  This race-day-Amy was a stranger who I affirmed her existence for the second time.  I thought when there is an in-personal run that I’d give it a go.

The Real Unicorn Chase

So came the Bi-State Challenge: Xcelsior Marathon at Rockland Lake State Park last Sunday.  A USTAF certified course.  Even though the registration site looked primitive and dubious at best, I signed up after seeing other teammates committed and invited others to join.  If running does not make you a morning person, I don’t know what else will.  To minimize my focus on the race, I decided to do some fun stuff to distract myself the day before like blowing all my disposable income on embellishing my digits.  Looking the part was part of the strategy.  It would have been my consolation prize.

The night before I gathered all my belongings, carefully chose my attire, fueling items, gratitude list (I pinned this on my shirt on the race day) and went to bed.  (Note to self:  never share the gratitude list with your family.  It’s like answering the death trap question if your mom, brother and husband fall into the water, who would you save first.  A lose-lose sitch.)

The forecast for the day was abysmal.  Windy.  Rainy.  Chilly.  High 40’s that felt like Low 40’s.  I figured I know this course:  friendly, flat and fast.  What’s there to worry.  Plus I would warm up after the race started.  It would just be like last time.  Easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy.  Instead a mix up at the start rattled my head.  It didn’t help that I missed the gun start so I sprinted at the start and out went my original pace plan.

Even though I was running ahead of my planned pace, I felt good so I continued.  My strategy was to run at a comfortable heart rate and keep it there.  Of course luck would have it that my Garmin would go wonky at the wrong time and was picking up my cadence.  C’est la vie.  The race must go on and I just went with my gut.

The Real Superstars

My crew of pacers was second to none and I was thoroughly enjoying their company and support.  They were all superb runners in their own right:  the Chubby Cat, Cici who seemed to be affiliated with a zip code, Chunying, Jimmy, John & Pan Yan.  Other pacers include the Master Zither, Captain Wan, Haiyan & Hong.  The cast of pacers that day was akin to having heavyweights like Meryl Streep and Denzel Washington as the supporting cast to budding actors and actresses like me.  Serious, right?  What have I done to earn this?  The King wasn’t my pacer this time but we ran the first lap together so technically we were each other’s pacer.  To say I didn’t borrow from their presence and strength would be an outright lie.  I leaned on them and they gave me their time, spirit, support and company on a rainy, windy and chilly morning.  Anywhere else on the planet that morning would be a more pleasant destination; yet, here they were, right next to this pair of Little Legs.  (I have learned that the accomplished runners tend to have a regal nickname like the God of Wind, the King, the Statesman, Goddess, etc…  Little Legs is my screenname at my spinning studio.  Not nearly as regal but seems fitting given my shallow running experience.)

Onto the cheerleading and fueling squad, led by the dream team: Captain Renny, Coach John and Coach-Lady (Is that a word) Michelle.  Need I say more.  Add Captain Never-miss-a-detail Samantha.  Boss Lady Joyce.  Ellen.  Coach Jerry.  Lee who saved me with a coveted jacket.  Mandy who looks amazing even in a storm.  Eternally-optimistic-cow-bell-Kevin.  Little Pan Pan.  Mom of Vogue (Ahem I mean Mom of Four).  Elegant Jing.  Speedy Eileen (even when she all caped up).  Coco.  Ann.  If I miss anyone, please pardon any error of emission.  Separately and more importantly, if you don’t have a nickname by now, get one.  Make up one.  Steal one or barter one.  Before I even reached within 1,000 feet of the station, the welcoming cheer rang through the course.  This is where I looked forward to the most on every lap to mentally refuel.

Sam.  Where do I begin?  His commitment and dedication leaves me speechless EVERY single time.  He got there as early as the runners and was the last to leave with us.  Every lap I wondered where would Sam be on the course this time.  I learned later that there was a second photographer from another team Misty Mountain.  Just mind-blowing to have so many moments of the day captured under their artistic eyes.

The Race

And back to the race.  At the start of the third loop, I was handed a gel and a salt tablet that I had never had.  I hesitated if I should take them and figured the alternative is under-fueling so I took them.  By the end of the loop, my stomach started knotting.  Perhaps it was the weather.  Or just a draw on the short straw.  Bells rang off in my head but I kept going.  I managed to hold my pace for 22 miles but it got colder and the rain came down harder.  I had already used the loo multiple times at this point and decided to suck it up for rest of the race.  My stomach twisted and knotted harder. The pain travelled down to the lower body and the legs and I started to shiver. I could barely pick up my feet and the prospect that I might have to walk brought tears to my eyes.  Each time I looked at my watch, the pace slipped by 15-30sec and at one point I was 2 minutes behind my earlier pace.  My heart sunk.  Yan Pan who paced me on the last two laps kept cheering me on.  Then I saw Kevin and he said “Embrace the suffering.”  He knew I was suffering and I just laughed.  His humor and positivity were exactly what I needed.  I heard Rachel’s strong words of encouragement.  I heard Ellen cheering me.  I heard Samantha.  I heard Michelle.  I cried harder.  Everything hurt.  I wasn’t making eye contact anymore for fear of a full blown tear fest.  On the last 400 meter, Michelle grabbed my arm to help me charge through the finish line.  I tried to give it one last push and crossed the finish line.  I collapsed in Samantha’s arms, on Rachel and Michelle’s shoulders and burst in full tears.  I didn’t walk.  And Boston, I am coming.

It’s been a long long long time since I wanted to reach for a star or in this case lasso a unicorn.  My feet carried me through the course but I traveled the entire distance on the arms and shoulders of my Bergen Runner family.  Without you, I would probably still finish but it would be laced with misery. Instead it was full of blessings and gratitude. No man is an island. You added meaning, context, purpose and depth to a mere 26.2. Your outpour of support outsized any and all adversity. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.  (Phil, you really need to find a world class crew like the Bergen Runners).

“When your legs get tired, run with your heart.”

Amy KT (阿蜜果)

Race 1:  My Race

10/24/2020

Every marathoner has a story, so it is said. Mine is incredibly unremarkable. An 18 years hiatus from the first and last marathon in NYC, I thought that door ? was welded and eternally sealed for me. My story then was also rather forgettable — heartbroken from a broken relationship, the marathon was supposed to heal my hurt and keep it under wraps. So I ran a marathon despite having only partake in a 5k prior to that. Sadly, the broken heart was not mended but the legs were undoubtedly broken. Cramps lasted from mile 20-26.2 and my visits to the medical tents outnumbered my entire life put together. My time was proudly 5 hours 6 mins 49 seconds.

Fast forward 18 years, I was running recreationally and mindlessly for most parts before a chance encounter with my running group. I needed company and a purpose. It offered support and motivation. We were a match made on pavements. One group run led to a race which then turned in 9+1 NYRR races. After breaking my piggy bank  on running shoes, gears and races, hitting the pre-dawn snooze button and lugging myself to the starting line countless times, NYCM and I finally meet again, strangely and virtually.

It was decided that NYCM and I would meet at the Rockland State Park.  What I had not foreseen was my Dream Team — from the uninterrupted army of scheduled and unplanned pacers (more on a pacer later) to the always-ahead replenishment station volunteers to the radiant cheering squads.  It was guaranteed that “I Will Be Moved” so I moved. Faster than I did 18 years ago. Like a lot faster.  Like an hour 28 minutes 58 seconds faster. This might have set the record for the most improved performance within my club — a testimony to anyone who is looking to peak in the sports that an 18-year wait may catapult one from any physical and emotional abyss.

Mile 1 – Mile 14 – Swooped Up by Aeolus

Mile 14 – Mile 20 – Guarded by the Queen of the [Edge]Water & Empress of  the Mont[vale]

Mile 14 – Mile 26.2 – Under the King’s Watch

Mile 20 – Mile 26.2 – The Statesman Seals the Deal

Side Stories

Having finished the 2002 marathon in solitude, I vowed to have my parents present for this one.  Mom didn’t quite get the cheers down; she cautioned me to slow down on the last lap.

Hubby had gifted this framed artwork to me last Christmas as an inspiration to best myself at this year’s NYC marathon.  Glad I didn’t disappoint the intent of the artwork (and the hubby)

Dressed up my bib and inscribed the target times on my arm so I won’t go unleashed at the start (9:10 at mile 1, 8:55 at mile 2, 8:50 at mile 3 then cruise at 8:40)

Race 2: His Pace  

10/31/2020

This weekend was the second virtual NYCM for my running group. My role was reversed — I was supposed to reciprocate everything I have learned that helped me the week before and trial-and-error’ed on the runners. Tasked to man a station for the first half and pace a runner for the second half, I thought my resume was very strong.  After all, I had volunteered at the finisher medals’ station in the 2019 NYCM.  Well, I discovered my resume as a water station volunteer had more holes than the swiss ? cheese. The first wave of runners were running so fast that I either could not made out what they said , did not have what they need readily available (like gel with caffeine or salt tablet) or worst, could not run fast enough from my rested state to accelerate and hand them the replenishment requested. I clearly also overestimated my ability to multitask — taking snapshots of the race for the runners AND tending to their needs as they whisked through my station. Thankfully I consoled myself with an overly-decorated Halloween theme station, festive headpiece and tutu skirt. My day was saved.

The week before a fellow runner from my running group, seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and accompanied me for the last 12 miles of my race. I can’t really put a figure to this but I think his presence attributed to close to 100% of how I did not drop my pace in the last 6 miles. Before this, I knew his name, his nickname, King, and that he sports a pretty cool pair of glasses and that was about it. We had some cordial exchanges afterwards and I confided in him my fear for cramps in the last 6 miles. He shared his own tribulations with me — a few weeks ago his attempt at the first marathon ended with cramps at mile 18. As we neared the race, I asked if I could run with him and he accepted.

After 3 miles of warm up, I joined King at Mile 18 and ran at the pace he indicated. 9.2 miles later we arrived at the finish, albeit a scare of cramps and the phantom of a repeat.

His time 3 hour 38 minutes 20 seconds.

We finished the race one after another — and our stories are linked.

Side Stories

Station 3 Cheering Props

More Cheering Props

Inspirators and Partners-in-Crime