Race Report: Vermont 100

A Tale of Two Races

Last weekend, I conquered the 100 mile distance for the fifth time in West Windsor, VT. I really stepped up my game in my mental preparations and expectations for myself, and in combination with many other factors, that allowed me to have a great race. Now, it wasn’t flawless all the way through, and being able to figure out how to extend a great first half through the entire hundred miles is an important part of the smart running of hundreds. However, my first 75 miles were so comfortable and well-executed that I view the race as one of my best performed races to-date, in spite of the fact that the last 25 miles were rather pitiful. 

Horses at their med check.

Since I have had the summer free between semesters, I was able to research the course ahead of time, and I read a lot of race reports and spent some time figuring out splits and distances between aid stations. (I am bolding some key information that may be helpful to others in their own research.) Vermont has twenty-nine aid stations- most of which are manned- which can help speed up your race or slow it down, depending on your tendency to dawdle. I typically race pretty conservatively out of fear of bonking, so the close proximity of all of the aid stations was very helpful to me. I knew that if I pushed too hard or if I wasn’t minding my nutrition or hydration that it would not be long before I reached aid. In other races, I don’t necessarily want to be experimenting with pushing myself if I have twelve miles in the dark between me and the next aid station. Vermont is a very safe race in this regard. Combine the plethora of aid stations with the fact that there are 300+ runners sharing the trail with you, and it is nearly certain that you won’t be in any kind of precarious position. 

Last-minute preparations.

I drove out to the race start with my mom (who was kind enough to crew for me), and my friend Randy who had flown in for the race. We arrived a little after noon, which gave us plenty of time to set up our tents and get a feel for the place prior to the pre-race meeting at 4. I got my number and did my medical check- which was really my only source of stress about the race. I have never been weighed before and during my races- I don’t even have a scale in my house to have a rough idea of my fluxuations- so I was worried about staying in the right weight zone. I weighed in at 139, and kept that number in my head so that I would be able to pay attention at the three weight checks throughout the race.

Tent City.

In addition to the usual droves of excitedly anxious runners, we were also in the presence of many riders and horses in the midst of their own pre-race preparations. I found myself wondering if the horses felt nervous- if they had any idea what the next day would bring. I am sure that if they had any anxiety, it was only caused by all the commotion, but it was an interesting thing to consider. 

The pre-race meeting was interesting, mostly because I haven’t run an ultra with such a large field before, and it was great to see such a large group of ultrarunners all together. I didn’t really hear anything at the meeting that I hadn’t previously read online, but I suppose if you were really off the ball with reading the pre-race emails, it may have been helpful. Dinner was delicious and had a plethora of vegan food, which made me very happy. We didn’t linger long before heading back up the hill to the camping area.

Bring earplugs!

Noise was an issue when it came time to unwind and settle into my tent. I actually wound up scooting my tent away from its original spot due to the fact that I was situated in the middle of some large groups of chattering people. If this race is on your list and you are planning to camp, be sure to bring earplugs. I was offered a pair of plugs by a nice couple camping nearby and was able to settle down for sleep before too long... 

I think I woke up about 2:15am. My alarm was set for 3am, but I could hear people mulling around and using the portas. (I had taken the plugs out during the night.) I decided that I may as well get a move on starting the day and got myself dressed and down to runner check-in right as it was opening. I ate a nice breakfast of quinoa porridge with walnuts and cherries in the car with my mom, and before we knew it, it was time to head down to the race start. We were all warned that the most sensitive landowners were within the first few miles of the race, so the day began with the subdued energy of three hundred runners beginning their journey into the forest. 

Mmmm early morning start time.

I knew that I was going out faster than I should have, but for the first several miles of the race, I like to let myself do whatever feels good so that I can shake out any nerves and get into a groove. It turned out, on this day, that my groove was a lot groovier than usual, and I continued to run pretty smoothly and quickly for most of the day.

The gaggle of runners stayed pretty tight for the first section of the race. I was concerned that this would add to congestion or the dreaded congo line through single-track, but the majority of the race is on dirt roads or slightly-narrower jeep track, so overcrowding was never an issue. I ran through the first several aid stations, having worn my pack with a bladder so that I would not be tempted to waste time with stopping so early. I made it to the stop at 11.5 by 6:11am. (I know because I texted my mom at the porta potty so that she would have a better idea of my arrival to the first crew stop.) I was moving well and feeling good! 

I recall that it began to feel nice and light around mile 10.5 (a bit before 6am), but the headlamps were off well before then. The horses came up from behind us shortly after that, which I really enjoyed. I was a horse nut for most of my youth, so I caught some good bouts of nostalgia from the smell of the horses as they trotted past. Most of the riders were incredibly courteous, wishing runners luck and offering morning greetings. One of the riders posted a video of the course from their vantage point, which was cool to watch after the race when I was spending a lot of time on the couch. 

Still super smiley at mile 21.

I saw my mom for the first time at mile 21 at the Pretty House Aid Station. I completely missed the pretty house, but I did get myself squared away with some snacks, ample amounts of Aquaphor, and my handheld. I had planned to swap for my handheld at this point so that I wouldn’t hold additional heat on my back as the sun became brighter and temperatures rose. I found that one handheld bottle was sufficient, but this year was cooler and less humid than many previous years. Gatorade has never tasted so good. I was downing that stuff all day, and it really hit the spot. 

In a race like this, you often find yourself back and forth with the same people for quite some time. I kept pace with one runner, Bob, in particular, and we spent at least 40 miles running together, linking up sometime before mile 30. This helped the miles tick off very quickly as we chatted about life, running, and the overlap and intertwining of the two. We went up dirt road hills and went down dirt road hills and ran through trees and ran through fields. While the entire course was very enjoyable, it also sort of stands as a blur in my mind. When I was reading race reports in an attempt to get a feel for the course, I wasn’t able to find anything that gave a really great description, and I realize now that this is because, while the course is very pleasant, there are not spectacular climbs or areas of terrible stream crossings or poor footing, so in hindsight, nothing in particular stands out. 

Bob and me coming into mile 30ish.

I saw my mom around mile 30, 47, and 59. My pacer, Nick, had arrived early at Camp 10 Bear, which served as aid for miles 47 and 70. Nick is a friend from college who has been active in the world of triathlons for the past few years and is just jumping into the ultra scene. I was stoked when he agreed to pace me for the race- largely because I like to have a pacer with me through the night, but also so that we could catch up and he could get a glimpse into the 100 mile world. I was happy to touch base with him at 47, and he traveled with my mom to the next aid station. At mile 47, I also hopped on the scale for the first time in the race with great trepidation. 137. Whew. Only down two pounds. The weigh-ins were not as scary as I thought they would be. In my later weigh-ins at 70 and 88, I was 136.4 and then back to 137. No problemo.

We were warned that around the halfway point, there would be huge puddles spanning the length of the road that would be impassable save for slogging right through. I didn’t find that to be the case, however, and kept my feet dry for the entire day. In wetter years, this may not be the case. I switched to my Lone Peaks for the section of anticipated moisture (they are designed to drain better than the Torin- which is a road shoe), but I was happy to put my Torins back on and get a bit more cushion under my soles. Although the course is a nice easy dirt road for most of the way, there are plenty of little stones that could cause the feet to get a bit achey.

I was happy to see my mom again at the Seven Sees AS. I encouraged her to skip the next crew-accessible aid since I would be picking up Nick there and I wanted her to get some rest. My mom had some canned stuffed grape leaves, which sounded surprisingly appealing, so I ate a few of those before heading out on my way. 

A bit before mile 70, I began to notice that the balls of my feet were developing hot spots and that the chafe that I had been keeping at bay all day was beginning to catch up to me. I decided to change my soggy shorts and my socks at the next point where I could, which turned out to be mile 76. Before getting to that point, I picked up my pacer, and I was still feeling really good. My last few miles getting back into Camp 10 Bear, I was able to pull eleven-minute miles. I was just barely ahead of a twenty-four hour pace with thirty miles to go. I didn’t think that twenty-four was realistic, but I thought that with how good my muscles still felt, I would be able to get in around twenty-five hours. I picked up Nick and told him that I wanted us to go-go-go! We started climbing out of the aid station, and after a couple smooth miles with some runnable sections, the chafe and the blister pain hit me like a brick wall. Suddenly, everything hurt. Not sore muscle kind of hurt. More like searing burning chafe kind of hurt. Like, everywhere below the waist. and all around the band of my sports bra. Owwww.

Coming into mile 95.

I made a big mistake in not changing my shorts earlier in the race, and it was a stupid mistake. I frequently chat with people who are considering their first ultra-distance, and my advice is always the same: eat before you are hungry, drink frequently, and take care of little issues when they are still little issues. While I had been applying Aquaphor every time I saw my mom, there is only so much that can be done in the face of shorts that have been wet for 70 miles. Same silly error was made with the blisters on the bottoms of my feet. Enough dust and dirt had built up in my sock around the ball of my foot that it was as if I was running on sandpaper. I didn’t notice the issues until they were very painful, but I should have known better and changed them out before they became problematic. 

So begins Part Two of Rachael’s Vermont 100. The part where time came to a crawl. I swapped my shorts and socks at mile 76, but it was too late. I told my pacer that I didn’t remember the last time that I wanted to cry from physical pain, but I came pretty close a few times (which I am sure can partially be credited to the exhaustion). I went slowly and I was in a lot of pain, but aside from the moments where the pain became nearly unbearable, my spirits remained high. Nick was great company and saved me with some Vaseline that he had brought in a baggie. The Aquaphor served its purpose for a while, but after the skin was already broken, it stung pretty badly, where the Vaseline did not.

Oof.

My pace had deteriorated quite a bit, so I didn’t worry so much about needing to take time if I felt it appropriate. We took a few stops to dump sand from my shoes, stopped once to eat some chews when I started feeling a tiny bit wonky. I was thrilled to have my mom waiting for me again at Bill’s AS at mile 88. I got a chuckle from quite a few of the crew folks waiting for their runners when I ran into the aid station in the dark around 3am and yelled, “Mommmmmmmy! I’m tired!” This quickly became my favorite aid station when I discovered that they had warm veggie broth with noodles! I enjoyed a good sit for about ten minutes and continued on with my shuffle.

Nick and I both started to have a bit of a mental drag, but fortunately it was right as the sky was beginning to brighten, which always grants a new source of energy. The chafe pain was still terrible, but I am pretty sure I could have run through it if the bottoms of my feet were not also in sorry shape. I stopped to empty my shoes, eventually stopped to pop one of the huge blisters that I could feel spreading between my toes and onto the top of my foot, and stopped a few times just to sit for a moment. Nick and I decided that once we made it to mile 95, the last crewed station, that we would just push on through to the end.

And push we did. Not a speedy push, but a push nonetheless. I couldn’t enjoy the downhills as I was wincing with every step, but I enjoyed getting closer to the end. Up and over a few more hills, and we found ourselves in the final stretch. There was a sign that let us know when we had a mile left, and from there, it was all cake. Bloody, chafed, painful cake. 

My team!

I had been dreaming for hours about getting to the end and giving my mom a big hug, and that was just what I did. It was a great finish line with more spectators and cheering squads than I normally see. I plopped myself down in a chair and immediately drank a tasty vegan protein shake. Randy was already at the finish line, and we decided that we would head back home instead of staying for the awards ceremony. I sat in the big tent with Nick as my mom and Randy packed up our tents, both of us in a bit of zombie mode. We parted ways and I headed up to my mom’s car, where I took a nice baby wipe bath (another painful endeavor) and changed into sweats for the ride home.

That is a DEEP blister.

Even though, as I said, the last 25 miles of the race were rather pitiful, I am still incredibly proud of the day that I had. My official finish time was 27:52:20. In comparison with most of my races, this was a great time for me. In comparison with how most of my day went, it could have been better, but gaining the awareness that I can dig deep for so long without running myself into the ground is invaluable, and I hope to be able to carry that with me. It’s easy to say “well, if I hadn’t chafed, I could have done better,” but figuring that shit out is part of being a successful ultrarunner, so that serves as no excuse for my slow down. I hope to be able to mind those little things a bit better on my next go-around. I did do a lot of things very well. My nutrition, my hydration, my energy- those things I managed better than I have in any other race. I also kept a positive attitude the entire time- I didn't swear off hundreds to myself at any point! So, I am happy with all of those things.

It's important to have good recovery buddies for stretching!

I still have some stiffness, and the bottoms of my feet still suck when I am walking, but it is just because of the new skin that was under my blisters. (I cut back the dead skin on top a little at a time because I worry about infection in places that I am not able to keep clean.) The chafing healed very quickly, which I actually credit to the Aquaphor. Muscles are achey in unusual places due to the fact that I was walking funny to avoid the blisters, but that has been getting better each day as well with lots of stretching and rolling. Other than my blisters from the grit in my shoes, my feet were super happy all race in my Torins. In fact, they may be my new favorite shoe. I will just make sure never to neglect my gaiters again. 

We’re always learning out there on the trail, and with 100s, the learning curve is steep. You can go out and run a 5k every weekend if you want, and you will learn quickly where your weak points are, where you slow down, and where you have extra juice. Hundred milers only come around a few times a year, so it’s good to take a good inventory when you are done to come out swingin’ the next time.