Umstead 100 – Report – Budd Glassberg

(very excruciatingly long, graphic, and self indulged)   I have no financial interests (NFI) in any of the products listed.

Note:  Maintenance of bodily functions is an integral part of ultra-running and the discussion of the maladies associated with them may be helpful to others.  If you are offended by terms such as “explosive diarrhea” please read no further.  If, however, you can get past some of the graphic parts of this report, you may find a silver stomach lining full of human kindness and goodwill.

At the ripe age of 55, I would be attempting my first 100-mile run at the Umstead 100 near Raleigh, NC.  Whenever I attempt something new and difficult in my running, I like to dedicate the run to someone who has helped me get to where I am.  I write a sports column for my local paper and used the column to dedicate this race to the memory of my mother.  Before Mom’s senility, she was stubbornly addicted to exercise and known around town as someone who always finished what she started.  I hoped some of her stubborn genes were passed down to me to help me finish this ultra. 

My wife, Maureen, younger daughter Ellie, and Ellie’s friend Kalin stayed in South Carolina, where we were vacationing, while I drove up to Raleigh on Friday.  I arrived at William B. Umstead Park in time to park near my cabin and walk down to the lodge to register and meet other runners.  I was issued number 128, which I considered a good omen, being two to the seventh power.  We wore name tags, but I did not initially find any names I recognized from the Ultra Listserv.  As we sat on benches waiting to hear race director, Blake Norwood, give us instructions for the following day’s run, I saw a runner with a “Mike Smith” nametag.  I noticed Mike’s name on the roster and noted he was from Fishers, IN only a stones throw from my home town of Zionsville.  I introduced myself to Mike.  He had run at Umstead several times and has done several other 100’s.  I was impressed by his running resume.

Blake Norwood is a charming man who puts on a well organized run.  He exudes friendliness and helps create an atmosphere of community and hospitality around this event.  It is evident that the many volunteers working at Umstead share his southern hospitality. 

Standing last in line for the pre-race dinner, I met Bruce Wong, an adventure racer from Morrisville, PA.  We ate together and shared our plans for the upcoming run.  Bruce planned to run the first fifty miles in around ten hours and then try to hold on.  I expected to go out much slower and hoped to hit the first fifty in around eleven and a half hours and keep a steadier pace.  My goal was to finish in the 30 hours allowed, but secretly I coveted the sub 24 hour finish.

It was dark, yet early, when we finished dinner.  I headed back to my cabin (which had no electricity) and rather than use flashlight batteries to read, I got into my sleeping bag at 8:30 in hopes of a restful night.  That was not to be.  Consistent with many of my prior big events, I could not fall asleep.  Using my flashlight at periodic intervals, I would flash it on my watch noting the hours going by without sleep.  My last check was at 2:15 AM before dozing off and waking again at 4:20 to the sound of a pouring rain.  Still I felt rested.  Tired of the prone position, I headed to the lodge for a shower.  After bathing, I mixed my Clip 2 powder with water and finished loading my three drop bags.  One in each of the two trucks heading to the distant aid stations, and one to leave at the lodge near the start/finish line. 

We were told the night before, that weather would be a factor and it was likely to rain most of the morning.  Training in Indiana all winter, the temperature felt balmy to me and rain does not bother me, so I went with a wicking tee, shorts, smartwool socks, Joe Trailman gaters, and Inov8 Mudroc 290’s fell running shoes.  By the first aid station near four miles I would abandon the tee shirt.  I had two worries about the run.  First, my weakest link is my stomach and after reading so much about people upchucking in the later miles of a 100, I was going to be very cautious of what I would eat (I would attempt to eat mostly alkaline foods).  Second, my longest training run had been an all night 10 ½ hour run of 44 miles.  My longest run ever was 51 miles so I worried that I had not trained enough long miles for this event.

The run began at 6:00 AM with 215 starters.  I planned to walk the first two miles to warm-up.  I wanted to start last, but about nine others had the same idea and rather than waste time, I graciously allowed them that honor.  After a half mile of mushy mud, we turned onto the well groomed, well drained, wide crushed gravel trail which would be our home for most of the 12 ½ mile loop. 

A little over a year ago I switched from training shoes and trail shoes to run in racing flats for all of my running.  After plantar faciitis kept me from running almost two years (2001 – 2003), I had run in custom orthotics and motion controlled training shoes.  Reading all I could about shoes, I decided to drop the orthotics and thick soled training shoes and try racing flats based on a Phillip Mafetone book on endurance training.  Other than tightened calf muscles, I have found that feeling the ground under me is a positive change.  The fell shoes work in the same way as the racing flats.  I have had no more plantar faciitis, no more twisted ankles, no more knee pain and no more heavy shoes.  One month ago, I ordered a pair of AEI shoes from Colorado (no midsole, no laces, made with carbon fiber sole, buckles, and looks like slippers or water shoes).  They simulate barefoot running, only protect your feet from sharp objects.  These shoes were stuffed in my Aid Station #3 drop bag.  About a mile into the run, I sidled up to Paul Lefelhocz from Ohio.  I started a conversation with him due to the fact that he was wearing water shoes.  It turns out we are of like minds.  He told me he thought he might do a lap or two barefoot.  The prior week I had run about half the time barefoot and half the time with the AEI shoes.  Because I know that you don’t try anything new in a race, I hadn’t intended to use the AEI’s during the Umstead, but Paul had planted a seed in my mind.  We stayed together for about a mile and then I began running in earnest.

Throughout the first loop, the course was mostly going either up or down and most of the hills were gradual in both directions (except for the roller coaster hills between mile 6 and mile 8).  The aid stations were at mile 3.8 and 8.75 and 12.5 (start/finish) of each loop.  They were well stocked with food, drink and very friendly and helpful volunteers.  One volunteer reminded runners not to fall in love with the aid stations.  Although that is good advice for those with a specific time goal, for my first 100 I wanted to enjoy all aspects of the event and enthusiastically conversed with the volunteers.  It was one of the many ways to keep from making the journey too much like work.  Likewise, I went out of my way to engage my fellow runners in conversation and meet people who have a common interest with me.  There is no one in my home town that I know of who has run 100 miles.  Here were 215 people attempting it all in one place.  By keeping to myself and just going after a time goal, I would miss out on a lot of trail knowledge and experiences which might help me along in future events. 

The rain became a constant during the first loop.  Remembering that you only get wet once, I ran shirtless.  There was a short muddy section about half way through the loop and two spurs where you could see runners ahead of you (or behind you).  Near the end of my first loop, I saw Bruce Wong (my dinner partner from the night before) heading out about a mile ahead of me on his second loop.  He was followed by Catra Corbett, perhaps the most flamboyant runner at Umstead, whom I had introduced myself to the prior evening.  I’d read about Catra in magazines.  She was easy to recognize. Gary Hemmlegarn, an ultra-runner from Ohio whom I’d seen at several ultras was also beginning his second loop. He pointed to his wrist showing me that he was not wearing a watch. Good for you, Gary, I thought, that is a good idea.

It seems, in most long distance events that you fall in with a group of people close to your pace and then not coincidently pass and get passed by these same people throughout the race.  Rather than remain strangers, I find it helps to make allies of them.  While some people wish to remain anonymous and stay within themselves, most are glad to have the company.  Such was the case with Albert Miclette a 68-year old French speaking gentleman from Canada.  We must have passed each other a dozen times before I introduced myself.  Through his thick accent, I deduced that this was also his first hundred.  He had won his age group in three of his last five races, and holds an age group record in the 100k.  He was an amazing man and an amazing runner.  We did not stay together, but over the next sixty miles would exchange encouraging words and light conversation as we passed and repassed each other. 

As I finished loop one in 2:20, I worried that I’d gone out too fast.  11:14 per mile was about 2:30 per mile faster than I had planned.  I dropped my watch in my drop bag ala Gary Hemmelgarn. I spent very little time at the start/finish aid station and headed out for loop 2.  My socks were a little scrunched in my right shoe and I should have adjusted them, but ignored doing so.  I would pay for this oversight. 

It rained quite a bit during my second loop and I was beginning to feel the second toe on my right foot jamming against the scrunched up sock. By the time I got to the second aid station, I knew I would lose the toenail. In my drop bag, I noticed the AEI shoes. Since they are very light, I decided to carry them the 3 ¾ miles to the start/finish line and change shoes there. As dangerous as it was to try something new in a big event like this, if I kept up with what I was wearing, I’d have to DNF. Less than a mile from the aid station, I figured that I’d have a chance to try out the shoes for three miles (before starting loop 3 and committing to them for 12 ½ miles). I took off my shoes and socks on the trail and slid on the AEI slippers. I carried one shoe in each hand as I ran the three miles to the end of the loop. As I came in to the aid station, a volunteer yelled, “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?” I replied, “Shoes? I don’t need no stinking shoes!”

It was true. The carbon fiber soles kept the stones from penetrating the bottoms. I felt no discomfort without arches or midsoles. The soft slipper upper allowed my foot to spread out without confines. Other than the toenail which had blackened from my socks, my feet never felt better. The second loop was in 2:25 which was around 11:40/mile still way too fast. I was beginning to feel like I could keep that pace up indefinitely, but I should have known better. I was off shortly on my third loop with my shaven head, no shirt, no socks, no watch, just gray shorts covering my loins and bright blue slippers on my feet. Later as I would see Catra again on a spur, she would comment quizzically on my slippers. Two laps later she commented to the effect that I might even be crazier than she.

The rain stopped and it was becoming a nice afternoon. The sun even came out for a while. Temperatures were pleasant, but not too hot. From the beginning of the run, I would take a Succeed Cap at each aid station and wash it down with several ounces of Clip 2. Then I would take Hammergel (vanilla and orange flavor) and rinse it down with more Succeed. I ate hard boiled egg whites (with an occasional yolk) and bananas. I stayed away from the candy, pretzels, chips, sandwiches, and many other foods at each aid station buffet, but for three loops, I always grabbed a handful of dried fruit. I really regret eating so much dried fruit, but that story comes later.

On loop three I enjoyed my brief visits with my newfound acquaintances and found halfway through the loop that there was another person very close to my pace whom I’d seen quite a lot in the first thirty miles. I introduced myself to Lynda Churchfield a Canadian now living in Lake Charles, LA. She is a very interesting woman near my age who had run a race in every state in our country and one on every continent. She had finished Umstead before and was experience enough to help me. We ran together between rest stops and talked. The miles seemed to rush by. At aid stations, Lynda eschewed long stops. She was in and out of the station in less than a minute. My socializing there caused me to take a mile to catch back up to Lynda. This went on for several miles. We finished loop three, in 2:45 which is 13:15/mile. With the sun, I put on sun block before heading out on loop 4. It would not be necessary.

I lost Lynda after the first aid station on loop 4. Fortunately, I ran into a charming couple from Roanoke, VA who were both experienced 100 milers and multiple finishers on this course. Anita and Jay Finkle met while running an ultra and agreed to run a marathon together soon after that. They married and have been running together since. Their encouraging words helped me as the miles rolled by. I was impressed with how they shared this wonderful sport. They definitely enjoyed each other’s company and seemed to relish the event without due stress on the finish time. Jay was a veteran of many sub-24 hour 100’s. Anita had broken 24 hours in 2004 at Umstead for the first time and hoped to again, but the weather was beginning to make it doubtful. The rains came back with a vengeance. Instead of a warm downpour as it had earlier, this rain was angry. It pelted and joined forces with the wind to make running miserable. Hail came to visit briefly to add a little insult to the runners. The temperature took a nosedive and for the first time the weather was beginning to annoy me. We were all cold and counting the miles until we could change clothes at the start/finish aid station. As if this weren’t enough, my bowels began to yell at me. I could feel something coming and it was not good.

Two hundred meters from the end of the loop there was a very nice latrine built on a cement slab that had flush toilets and sinks. I scurried off the trail and hurried into the men’s room noticing two women sitting on lawn chairs on the cement slab underneath the shelter of the roof cheering on runners. As soon as I had dropped my shorts an explosion came from my underside that tore skin from my butt and immediately filled the commode. The dried fruit had found its way out of me no longer in a solid form. The explosive diarrhea was audible for what I guessed was more than a mile. Runners at the finish line thought it was thunder. I believe the two women sitting on the cement slab were blown off their chairs. As I left the latrine, men in masks put up toxic signs on the door warning of the half life of the contaminant contained in the room. I continued to finish loop 4, the half way point, in 3:05, 14:50/mile for that loop. Total elapsed time was 10:37:03 for 50 miles.

I grabbed warm new clothing from my drop bag and headed for the shower facility. The hot shower warmed me up a lot and allowed me to continue the run without smelling like the primate house at the zoo. While it was getting cold, I was dressed properly and actually feeling pretty well at the start of loop 5.

I knew that it would be dark before I finished loop 5, but I decided against taking a flashlight because most of the trail was very lightly colored crushed gravel and plenty wide. I figured I’d be able to see well enough without external light. After running a couple of miles, I met up again with Anita and Jay, the couple from Virginia I’d met on loop 4. They had both geared up with warmer clothing for the evening. We discussed cross-country running, as both Anita and I had coached that sport. Jay imparted wisdom on what we might expect during the night and both of them continued to buoy my spirits by telling my how well I was holding up. As we spoke while walking uphill, Albert Michlette, the 68-year old French Canadian ran past us for about the fortieth time. I gave him words of encouragement as he let me know he was on cruise control.

We were spending more time at the aid stations and we needed to walk more than earlier. The folly of starting out too fast was beginning to take its toll on me. Daylight was beginning to fade. I found that I was anticipating the finish of this loop with the hopes that my crew would be at the start/finish line. Wanting to see my wife, Maureen, daughter, Ellie and her friend Kalin, but unsure that they would be there at the end of this loop, I tried not to get my hopes up too high. At the spur just before the finish of the loop we saw many headlamps coming toward us, but we really had no need to use lights. Runners coming toward us were no longer recognizable. We would only recognize our fellow runners at aid stations and as we passed or were passed by others for the rest of the run. Running up the final hill to the end of the loop I gave a loud whistle to announce our arrival and heard my family cheering in response. At 62.5 miles and 8:10 PM the real struggle had begun and I have never been so happy to see them. There were hugs and greetings as though I hadn’t seen them in months yet I had left them only a day and a half ago. Maureen helped me get my nourishment and I assured her I was doing well. I was in no mans land for me after 51 miles but had not yet felt all that bad. Ellie’s friend Kalin, who at 18 was training for her first marathon, offered to pace me for the next loop. Off we went along with Anita and Jay for another round.

Kalin, a self starter who is wise beyond her years, fit in very well with our small group. She was very impressed with the entire atmosphere around this ultra event. I believe we may have gone to high school to recruit this rookie. I had coached Kalin seven years earlier when she ran on our middle school cross-country team. She played soccer and swam in high school, but has returned to running now and seems to have caught the bug. Aid station volunteers marveled at Kalin’s stamina and were much surprised to see her continue to show up for each of the final three loops. We met up with Lynda from Ohio and the five of us made it without a problem to the roller coaster hills of loop 6. Sometime after the sun went down, the race organizers were able to move a lot of dirt to the hills, making them much steeper and much longer than during the day. I was amazed at how quickly they were able to do this as the crushed gravel trail showed only the faintest signs of the tampering. They nearly added a thousand feet to the elevation within the time it took us to run one loop. What’s more, these nightly gremlins would continue to add to these hills on each of the remaining loops throughout the night.

The hills really took a lot out of me as my three new friends continued at their even pace as I slowed down. Kalin stayed with me and was just what I need to get me to the second aid station of loop 6. She noticed that I was slow to start running after walking up a hill. Fatigue was not the only thing slowing me down. I noted that my stride had shortened considerably. At the aid station, hot chicken soup was welcomed and those amazing volunteers continued to offer encouragement where I know they saw weariness in me. I took out my espresso hammergel for the first time and took two squirts, hoping this might revive me. Kalin and I set off and after about ten more minutes the gel kicked in and I was running again, all the way to the start/finish line. I came through the sixth loop in 17 hours 42 minutes, just 18 minutes under the 24 hour pace. It was time to give up on my secret sub 24 hour goal and make sure I finish the 100 miles.

Seeing Maureen again lifted my spirits. When I saw her, I knew I was going to finish. I said, “Just 25 miles to go. That’s less than a marathon, Maureen. I got it. I am going to make it.” Maureen once again tended to my needs while Kalin filled Ellie in on the course and knowing Ellie’s conditioning was convinced Ellie could stay with us for a loop. My crew was the best. Lynda, Anita, and Jay were taking care of their needs and got a chance to meet my crew. Ellie, Kalin and I joined them on lap 7, but once again lost them after the first aid station. The night air was chilly but not cold. I was slowing down to a snails pace. Ellie seemed to have no trouble keeping up. She commented on how short my stride had become. While walking up one of the roller coaster hills, Ellie said to me, “Dad, you are my hero.” I replied, “Yeah, right!” sarcastically because the last couple of years, we had the typical parent/teen struggles associated with a child growing up, feeling her wings, and wanting more independence while her Dad is stubbornly hanging on to old rules attempting to keep her safe. “No really Dad, you are my hero. I mean it.” I could tell she did. What a pick-me-up. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Like the prior lap, the hills took a lot out of me and I was struggling as we approached the second aid station. Another squirt of the espresso hammergel and a prayer that it would work again and we were off. Five minutes later we were running again and once again it got us through the lap. We finished the loop at the 22 hour mark. One loop to go. A line I borrowed from a friend, Bob Einterz, was one I have often said to the athletes that I coached, “You can always do one more!” I knew that I would be walking more than running and that it would be a struggle, but I also knew it was going to happen. I would finish 100 miles on foot. Looking down at my feet, I noticed that I had not noticed my feet since changing to the AEI shoes at 21 miles. Here I was at 87 ½ miles and had no blisters, no pain at all, and only a blackened toenail developed in the first 20 miles. These slipper/shoes came in like a long reliever in baseball and took over. They did the job and deserved the win. Maureen joined, Ellie, Kalin and I on the final loop. My entire crew would finish with me. At the end of this loop, Kalin would have run 37 ½ miles, 24 miles more than she had ever gone. Ellie would be at 25 miles, after not having run more than 25 miles in total in the past 6 months. Maureen at 12 ½ would have doubled her longest run in the past 6 months. I was blessed with a tenacious crew who were going well beyond their comfort levels to help me finish.

The final lap was more like a death march. I ran for about three miles, but very slowly and then settled into a walk that continued the rest of the loop. Halfway through the loop the sun came up. I have been told this is a time when you get a lift and your spirits should improve. While it was pretty seeing the sunrise, my only thoughts were that I was just lapped by the sun. Just to have it over with was what I was thinking. After the final aid station, Maureen and I picked up our walking pace and we both noticed that the teenage girls had slowed some. Kalin had blisters and Ellie was tuckered out. As their former coach, I should have known better than to allow them to do so much on the training they had. That they were willing should have been enough and I was wrong and selfish to have them pace me for as long as they did.

We were on a countdown of miles, four, then three, then two and finally one. Finally running again going up the final hill to the finish, Ellie right behind me said, “Dad, are you thinking of Grandma?” “Yes, Ellie, I am,” I replied with a lump in my throat. With tears welling up in my eyes, I approached the finish line picturing my mother, alive, in her younger, clearer days watching me finish. I could picture her understanding that my success on this day was indeed attributable to her determined nature and through her example; I had taken on some of her attributes. With pride and accuracy I could imagine her saying, “Buddy, I knew you would make it. You are like me,”

Budd Glassberg

P.S. 26 hours 16 minutes and 27 seconds for my first 100 mile run. We slept for 2 hours and then drove back to Zionsville, IN. I would not trade my Umstead experience for anything. A big thanks to Blake Norwood and his entire team of volunteers.

It is five days later. Some lower leg swelling the first three days, some muscle soreness, no injuries, no pain. I am ready to run again.

My new friends and acquaintances

Anita and Jay Finkle 24:50

Mike Smith 23:30

Albert Miclette 24:32

Lynda Chuchfield 26:33

Bruce Wong, 50 miles 8:57

Gary Hemmlgarn, 50 miles 10:09

Paul Lefelhocz, 50 miles 11:06