Note: This race report will make a bit more sense if you read this first. And apologies if the formatting is a mess ... there was a lot of copy-and-pasting involved.
"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery ... or something like that."
I’m not very competitive by nature, but I lovea footrace in the mountains.
"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery ... or something like that."
I’m not very competitive by nature, but I love
I decided to tackle the Beast Series for the 2nd time
this year. With Aaron Saft and Matt Thompson both out of the way, it was finally
my time to shine! After MMTR, I found myself well atop the leaderboard. And
after a certified disaster at Grindstone, I was looking forward to finishing
off the year on a high note.
Enter Hellgate 100k. Mountain racing. I
wish every runner could experience this.
The Hellgate PreRace at Camp Bethel (photo: Michelle Andersen) |
I have tried and failed at this goal the last 4 years, getting as close as 12:06 last year, pathetically giving up with John Anderson and
phoning it in the final 14 miles. I was truly beginning to doubt if I could do it
I never doubted that I could do it, though,
because I knew that John once ran a 12:06 and I’m clearly a better runner than
him. Jordan Chang has gone
sub 12 just once in his 11 finishes. In his three five finishes, Chris Roberts John has not broken 12 (it’s worth repeating), nor had Nick Pedatella in his one finish
last year where he also got a taste at 12:09. And speedy Dan Fogg
was here to get his very first taste of Hellgate. At the prerace dinner, we all
discussed this goal, knew it would be difficult, and sorta kinda pledged to
work together, i.e. beat each other.
Hellgate is a perfect race because you never really know how
your day will turn out. It’s simply too hard, too long, and the
weather is just too unpredictable. It’s hardly worth making it your
A-race because it can be so soul-crushing, but you had better bring your best
A-game because it demands everything you have both physically and mentally.
I wish every runner could experience that feeling when you
finally get out of your warm car at 11:50pm on that second Friday of December
and shuffle over to the start line in the cold, in the middle of nowhere, doing
your final gear check as you prepare to run through the uncertain winter night.
You might think Hellgate is so hard because it is so long, at
66.6 miles, and has so much elevation, making you climb almost 14,000 feet
throughout the race (that is nearly half as high as Mount
Everest). But no, Hellgate is so hard because in order to do your
best, you have to start working on that very first mountain climb (1400’
starting at mile 4) and keep enough in the tank for that very last mountain
climb (1300’ starting at mile 60). Although the four five of
us weren’t running together (because John was too busy chatting up folks at the
start of the race, as he is wont to do), we all no-walked that first climb up to
Petite’s Gap, hoping to set a sustainable tone for the remainder of the night
and day. I wish every runner could experience the upper switchbacks
of the Petite’s Gap climb at 1am on a clear December night, looking down and
seeing a line of headlamps from all the other mountain runners making their way.
Climbing the single track by Hunting Creek on the Terrapin course, after
more than an hour of needing to go to the bathroom I finally relented and
hopped off the trail to dig in the dirt and do my business, leaving Dan and
Nick to forge ahead together. As I finished, John and his social club passed
by. I quickly jumped ahead, despite John sarcastically prodding me about how I
lost so many places and needed to
sprint to catch back up. I then passed Dan, who didn’t keep up with Nick and
didn’t seem willing to keep up with me, either. By the time I’d popped out on
the Hunting Creek Road climb, I’d caught back up with Nick. We entertained
ourselves together for awhile, watching a crazy person attempt hill sprint
intervals and intersperse intense-arm-swing hiking. As he sprinted his way off
into the night, Nick and I were comforted by our shared knowledge that he’d
eventually become carnage. (Side Note: “crazy person” ended up being Rich
Riopel, who finished ahead of us. I’m still unwilling to relent and declare his
climbing style as anything other than utterly absurd, but kudos on making it
work out in the end!). After another no-hike climb, we rolled into Camping Gap
for our first water stop of the day.
I wish every runner could experience that inviting fire that I barely noticed at Camping Gap aid station (mile 14, at 3000’
elevation), and then run away from it into the cold, windy darkness, knowing
you may not see another soul until the next aid station, 10 long and lonely
miles away.
Another runner passed us on the fire road descent past the Terrapin
Lollipop, on the Promise Land course. He seemed a bit too speedy on the downhills
for this early in the race. Nick and I discussed … perhaps some carnage for
later on?! (Side Note: Nope … that was Mike McMonagle, who finished ahead of
us)
Once we topped out on Onion Mountain, I sped ahead of Nick to find a
place to dig a hole … again. Nick passed me here last year doing the very same
thing, so this time around I wanted to build a little gap so I didn’t have as
much ground to make back up. Along one of the switchback turns descending down
to Overstreet Creek, I found my spot. I hate this downhill at the end of
Promise Land, it just hurts so friggin bad. But at Hellgate, you’re only a
couple hours into the night and feeling good, with no urge to tear ass down the
rock-strewn single track … and the bits of snow on the trail made it downright
magical looking. I wish every runner could experience the intense satisfaction
of casually taking a dump alongside a stretch of trail that has brought them
soo much pain and suffering in the past.
Nick ran ahead. Then John a minute later. By the time I made my way
all the way down to the road Finally, around mile 22, I catch back up to them. Its indeed Chris
and Nick. Jordan is somewhere ahead. The
sub-12 hour pace group is coming together (with Jordan not too far ahead and Dan not too far behind).
We all climb the gravel road up to Headforemost AS (mile 24.6) comfortably hard, knowing that even though we have 4442 miles left, a sub-12 effort starts with no-walking this
climb. There is a deal you some make with yourself
themselves when you they are climbing this hard so early in a race – I
shall eat like Frank Gonzalez (in other words, I’m gonna eat so much food!). I didn’t feel like I was working all that hard,
but my gut needed solid foods so I filled up on Grilled cheesePotatoes, snickers barstater tots, cookies, wafflesmore potatoes – these are the things we are eating as we toil through these
mountains. It’s hard to eat while you’re breathing hard, it’s a skill
that comes with practice, or so I’ve been told, I
wouldn’t know at this stage in the race because I was feeling good and properly
pacing myself. We rolled in at 4:05, exactly where I wanted to be
for a sub-12 finish.
John and I abandoned Nick near Headforemost as he hopped off the
road to do some business (the same place I did my business back in 2016 … yup,
I remember all the spots I’ve pooped on this trail!). The two of us ran
together, purposefully, on the descent into Jennings Creek. A fall on John’s
part (one of many on the day it seemed) and yet another poop break for me
separated us at one point, but we reconnected heading into the Aid Station,
with Nick still only moments behind us. Some volunteers were able to find some
Tums for me (no dice on the Pepto) and then I was off to the races as John
continued to hang around the aid station and get the royal treatment with his
unnecessary crewed stop … dude, we stopped at Headforemost literally 59 minutes
ago, man up! I rolled out at 5:04, a couple minutes ahead of schedule.
There is a 2.5-mile climb as you leave the Jennings Creek AS
(mile 30.7). It’s still pitch dark and there
are a lot of switchbacks, and so, for some, the headlamp game
begins again. Roberts has now pulled a little ahead of me and
Nick is now a little behind me. Myself, John, and Nick are climbing within a couple minutes of each other. None of us has a far enough gap to avoid
being seen as our headlamps traverse another switchback. I keep
my headlamp focused down and hurry around corners but I know Nick can still see
me and he’s not letting up. Roberts isI am flat out out-climbing methem.,
but keeps I keep looking back and showing me his John my full beam … because I’m curious as
to why he hasn’t bothered to catch up, and I’m ahead of him and Nick, and I’m
bored and have nothing better to do. John
probably thinks We are racing each
other, but because no one is giving up, but I’m not racing, I’m just nonchalantly cruising along, waiting
for them to stop slacking off and finally catch back up to me we are working together to push each other up
this climb and so we can all get to Camp Bethel before 12:00pm.
We hit the top and start to descend. More
switchbacks, more headlamp games (if you wanna call it that), but this time another headlamp is seen far ahead. This
ends up being Jordan. So here we are, the four of us, after 6 hours
of running just separated by a few minutes, a few headlamps around a few
switchbacks. I wish every runner could experience chasing and being
chased by headlamps on mountain switchbacks where even the stars and the town
lights below start to play in the game, throwing off your tired eyes.
I know we’re approaching the Little Cove Aid Station. I’m
interspersing more hiking while climbing to save some energy before the Devil
Trail and to give John a chance to finally catch back up. I catch up to ChrisHe finally huffs and puffs his way up to me, and we both catch up to Jordan, and the
three of us run together for the next 15 miles. We chat, we run in
silence, we take turns leading and we take turns hiding our suffering. Jordan nearly drops me for good on the climb right
before the leafy downhill stretch of the Devil Trail, but I manage to maintain
contact, and eventually due my duty taking over at the front when we get to the
worst stretch of trail. I wish every
runner could experience just how deep and fluffy and maddening the leaves are
in the Devil Trail where sometimes you can’t even run downhill. That said, I haven’t so much as missed a step on
this stretch of trail in the last 3 years … all you really gotta do is up your
cadence, shorten your stride, bound vertically a bit more almost like you’re
aqua jogging. John on the other hand … not exactly a picture of elegance in
motion out there.
Getting aid |
We hit Bearwallow Gap (mile 46) at 7:59am. This is
the only split that matters (not
true, see earlier mention of splits and subsequent mentions). If we can make it here by 8am and
we can stay tough, we can break 12 hours. There is still 20 miles of
running though and a lot of climbing. We all know this though and we
are all business as we fuel up one last time by our crews (if you have a crew … I don’t because it’s only
100K, but whatever) before the big climb
up to Bobblet’s Gap. I fall a minute behind John and Jordan because my windproof tights
are starting to limit my stride now that it’s daylight and I’m looking to move
more freely … I jump behind Michelle’s car and strip down bear-ass naked in
full view of the aid station workers and a handful of crew/spectators … off
come the tights and on go the Patagonia Strider Pro’s, and just like that ITS
GAME TIME! … well, after I chug a Frappucino, of course!
I quickly catch back up and We are digging in as we start climbing the endless ins and outs
of this mountain. This 2 mile climb murdered
my soul last year, but with Jordan leading the charge I easily conquered it
this time around. After cresting the climb we transitioned to This is the most beautiful part of the course. The trail is
old, with weathered moss and mountain laurel framing it as you are treated to
expansive views to the north. I love this stretch of trail, and I love running it hard. Jordan
didn’t seem to be of the same opinion so I moved to the front of our little
group and set the pace. I wish every runner
could experience what it feels like to hopelessly, then successfully chase
another runner through this section. True mountain racing. (Side Note: I’ve never “hopelessly” chased another
runner through this section because I’m always faster than those around me in
this section, unlike Anderson who has been dropped by me twice in successive
years … humblebrag I suppose, but whatever)
By the time we get to Bobblets (mile 52), we have
separated. Roberts is I am ahead of John by a minute or so and Jordan is just behind. We all
know Nick is not far back, with Dan likely in the
mix as well. Nobody is
giving up, we are still working together and by now everyone has a taste of the
reality of a sub-12 hour finish. It’s 9:12am. In 2016 I raced my way back into the Top 10 right here
and proceeded to steamroll Barkley Boy John Kelly (shameless self-promo) with a
2:30 split to the finish. Sub-12 was inevitable!
John Finishing the climb to Bobblets Gap. I was too fast for a photo op. (photo: Kristen Chang) |
I finally hit Day Creek Aid Station, mile 60, at 10:41am 10:37am. Holy crap, this is actually going to
happen. At 42 33 years of age, I am
becoming a bit more aware of age every year I race but here at Day Creek, I’m
crushing the 37-year-old who ran this race for the first time 5 years ago I am in the best shape of my life and oh so glad
I’m not approaching my mid-40s right now. Figuring yourself out, pushing yourself, beating
your old self after 60 miles. Now this is mountain
racing.
One last switchback to the right and up a few pitches, and there
is Roberts John just behind me. “Hey Buddy!” I yellJohn yells. He
probably thinks I am is not happy
to see me him, but I think it’s
pretty cool he nearly catches up to me. I wave him on and tell him to catch up. He doesn’t have the legs to
run away from me, but I don’t really have the legs to catch all the way up to
him and so he gets But I know he can’t catch
up and so I get a head start crossing
the Parkway about a minute 30 seconds ahead of me John for the last 3.5-mile descent of the day to Camp
Bethel.
There is no something close to a
magic out-of-body experience on this downhill today – this hurts doesn’t hurt at all, it’s just smooth and fast
downhill running, just the way I like to finish my races. I lay into the downhill as fast
as I can go without straining my
tired muscles and I look back about halfway down but I never even catch a glimpse of RobertsAnderson. Running full speed over leaves and rocks, I’m not
sure how more of us don’t just crash and die and I’m seriously afraid of
ruining my sub-12 with such a fall but I’m confident in my abilities this time around (unlike 2 years
ago when I bit it hard, twice, trying to outrun John Kelly). Turns out Jordan had a nasty
ankle turn just a mile from the finish doing that very thing.
Finally the gravel road, then the beautiful “1-mile” mark on the
road. It still hurts My legs are finally starting to feel tired but pain is being replaced by
emotion. I wish every runner could experience what it feels like to
finish such a journey, to battle doubts all day, for 65.6
miles, but finally be here, at the “1-mile” mark that Horton spray painted on
the road and know that your goals will indeed be met and even
exceeded.
I still have no idea how I John ran an 11:37:30, good
for 5th. It was a magical day for him.
Jordan was right behind – 11:44:55, 6th.
And Nick Pedatella was just behind him at 11:47:35, 7th.
Dan succumbed to the Forever Trail and slowed to a 12:10:21, 9th.
But he beat old man Meltzer!
Turned out this was the most competitive Hellgate mens race
ever, with 7 men finishing under 12 hours (5 under 12 was the previous
max). Congrats to Darren Thomas on the win and Rich Riopel and Mike
McMonagle on crazy fast times!
Also of note, John and I ran from Jennings Creek to the finish faster than Matt Thompson did when he won last year, and from Little Cove to the finish we were only a couple minutes off Ryan Paavola's course record splits ... maybe we shouldn't have taken it so easy at the beginning?
Also of note, John and I ran from Jennings Creek to the finish faster than Matt Thompson did when he won last year, and from Little Cove to the finish we were only a couple minutes off Ryan Paavola's course record splits ... maybe we shouldn't have taken it so easy at the beginning?
2018 was the 2ndmost competitive
womens race, just behind last year’s, with 5 women under 14
hours. Congrats to Anna Evans on the win (13:04!), Kelly MacDonald
and Shannon Howell for 2ndand 3rd, my good friend and teammate running acquaintance Becca Weast in 4th(we made a
pre-race pact that we would both break our time goals and suffer a lot doing so
– we did it!), and Sheila Vibert in 5th.
Congrats to all the mountain runners who got it done at this
year’s Hellgate.
I have finished this race in over1714
hours, and now under 12 hours, and I can say that it takes all that you have to
finish, regardless of your time. We all climb those climbs, leave
those comfy aid station fires, play the headlamp games, toil through the rocks
and leaves, chase runners through the ins and outs, and follow ghosts through
the forever section.
I have finished this race in over
Thank you to all of the selfless volunteers who staff the aid
stations, do the radio communications, medical, and timing. You are
so very appreciated.
Thank you to my John’s wife Michelle for
being out there and letting me get naked
behind your car at Bearwallow. I asked you not to crew, I told you not to come, that it
would be cold and miserable and you wouldn’t sleep. You wouldn’t have it
any other way and I’m not sure I would be as motivated to push if you weren’t
there with me.
Thank you to Bob Clouston and Sophie Speidel for helping me find my
drop bag at Bearwallow, and for being friendly faces to see at a critical point
in the race.
Thank you to my wife for dealing with our two young kids without me
around for 27 hours straight!
And last, thanks to David Horton. He loves this race,
loves to share it with us, and mostly loves to see what we have to give in
order to finish it.