Last Saturday I ran my first ultra longer than a 50k at Gorge Waterfalls. The process leading to this point was anything but linear. After running two 50k races in 2017 and 2018, I sustained an injury while training for what would have been my first 50-miler. I changed my registration for that race in 2019 and ended up running my third 50k, which would be my last ultra for a long while as I embarked on a long-term injury diagnosis and recovery adventure.
After several years, which included two years of no running, I decided to train for and run the Missoula Marathon in 2025. I was able to do this without any major complications, and I beat my only other marathon time from 18 years prior by 20 minutes! I did have some lingering niggles after that race, which led me to Dr. Rob Amrine at Ascend Sports Medicine. Dr. Rob, also an athlete, is very close to my age and keenly understands the issues that tend to occur when aging bodies collide with athletic ambitions. He built me a strength training program and emphasized a training philosophy that I would need to follow if I wanted to have a reasonable chance for my meat sack to do the things I was asking of it. Several months of dilligent strength training, running, and cross training later, I found myself at the start line of the Gorge Waterfalls 100k in Cascade Locks, Oregon.
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| Just before starting the race at 5:00 am |
In my final month of training, I reaggravated one of my persistent injuries--essentially tendonitis in my abdominal tendon. I backed off the running quite a bit but was able to continue strength and cross trianing. Rob made clear to me that it would be better for me to show up to the start line undertrained and healthy than overtrained and injured, so I did my best back off and let the imflammation subside while still doing everything my body would tolerate. I still felt like I was flirting with injury and was convinced that running the race would surely set me back, likely requiring another 2-year running rest, but that's an outcome I was willing to accept.
The race began in the rain and the dark, and for the first 8.5 miles I was in a lurching conga line of headlamped runners. This is just what happens when you have 450 runners filtering onto a 12-inch-wide trail. It takes a while for everyone to sort into their respective pace positions. When I was finally able to get into a rhythm and jog without being held up, I probably went slightly harder than I should have, subconsciously trying to make up time lost while milling around in the conga line.
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| One of the few on-trail shots of me near the top of the biggest climb. I was laughing because the photographer's presence was the only reason I changed from hiking to running. (Photo Credit: James Holk) |
Things went generally well and according to plan after that until about mile 25, when I started feeling exceedingly crappy any time I tried to run even slightly uphill. After dealing with this for several miles, I learned that any time my heart rate exceeded about 125 bpm, I felt terrible. If I kept it just under, I felt okay. So, I resigned myself to walking quite a bit. So long as I was able to stay ahead of the cutoff times, I'd still finish the race.
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| Sitting for the first time about halfway through |
At the mile 33 aid station, I met my crew for the first time. Ava and Jake were a welcome site as I was firmly on the struggle bus at that point. I sat down for the first time, changed out of my wet shoes and socks, and took a few minutes while Ava and Jake did everything they could to make sure I had all that I needed. Apparently, I looked quite pathetic because one of the aid station volunteers began telling me what the drop-out process looked like. I told Jake I wasn't the slowest thing out there because I'd passed a slug a while back, and my abilty to joke signaled that I might be doing better than I appeared.
With fresh shoes and socks, I resumed. The new shoes handled the rough, rocky trail better the ones I wore for the first half due to the carbon plate, making my feet much happier. I saw my crew at each aid station after that point, and they absolutely crushed it. I trudged along, keeping my heartrate low and walking all the uphills. Around mile 45, we began a long, steady descent to the mile 50 aid station. For the first time in 20 miles, I was able to run consistently. And, I started to feel better! In hindsight, I think my 20-mile struggle bus ride had a lot to do with the heat. While it wasn't that hot, it was both warmer and more humid that I was acclimated to. When it got late enough in the day that the sun was less intense, I started feeling better--maybe a coincidence, probably not.
After the aid station at mile 50 and the quesadilla I ate there, I continued to feel decent. For most of the day, I'd eaten and drank very consistently, consuming a 30g NeverSecond gel every 30 minutes and drinking as much hydration mix as I could. While this worked great, the least few gels started to taste pretty bad, and I don't think I could have sustained the routine for much longer.
The final half marathon was uneventful. I made it to the last aid station with about 3 miles left in the race in the daylight and finished with a headlamp from there. We hit pavement for the final 1.5 miles, and I was able to pick up the pace (not hard when your pace is 15:30/mile) and finish strong.
Ava got a great finish line video with the running-world-famous Dylan Bowman announcing my name. I even had the wherewithal to follow Ava's instructions and get a photo with D-Bo before beginning the process of ending up horizontal in bed.
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| Still smiling after 62 miles and nearly 16 hours |
While I anticipated going a little faster, I didn't have a particular time goal. I ended up finishing about an hour and 15 minutes ahead of the cutoff time. As the 230th finisher out of 450 participants, many of which did not finish, I feel comfortable calling myself a mid-packer.
Now several days after the race, I feel far better than I thought I would. I did not reaggravate any old injuries or sustain any new ones. My biggest lingering issue is the poison oak I now have all over my arms and legs. I feel recovered enough to resume training, although I'm forcing myself to have two weeks of very limited activity, and I'm already thinking about the next one!
