Thunder Rock 100
May 15, 2015
Cherokee National Forest
Just a warning, this could get extremely long, technical,
and very boring…
To be honest, I don’t know where to even begin with this
race report. So much went into this experience starting from the minute I
registered to the moment I crossed the finish line that I don’t want to leave
anything out. I guess I’ll skip all the training most aren’t interested in and
dive right into race day.
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| Thunder Rock 100 course and elevation profile |
I had the feeling I would wake up earlier than I wanted on
Friday May 15th. Thunder Rock 100 has a starting time of 12pm (noon)
which is pretty sweet. This allows runners to get a good nights rest the day
before and even sleep in a little. Anyone who knows me though knows I’m a
morning person and rarely sleep-in so I had already planned for this. Of course
come Friday I was awake by 7am so I just got out of bed and went outside to
catch the sun rising up from behind my house. Knowing I’d probably be awake
that early anyways I wanted to do something I’ve never done, watch the sunrise
twice in a single day. As I stood out on the patio feeling the sun hit my face
I realized 2 things; 1. I was about to
have the longest day of my life and 2. It was going to be hot and humid.
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| Chilhowee in the distance. |
Carmen and I hit the road a little before 10am with my
parents following behind us in their car. I rented a cabin right off Highway 64
so my family would have a place to hopefully go to and get some rest throughout
the race. As we headed out of Cleveland towards the Ocoee, we were able to see
Chilhowee, the first section and climb of the race.
We arrived at the cabin, checked in, and unloaded some of my
family’s stuff. The sky was overcast with a nice breeze blowing. The cabin had
a wonderful deck that sat right on the edge of Lake Ocoee. It was a beautiful
view and I didn’t want to leave. It was almost 11am so we made sure I had all
the gear and I needed and we headed to the starting point at Parksville Lake
Campground just 6 miles down the road.
We arrived at the starting area to see all the runners and
their crews standing by their vehicles looking over their gear, eating,
chatting, and taking pre-race pictures. Going over my gear one last time, I
decided to carry enough with me that would get me till the next time I would
see my crew which was 17-18miles. I carried 2 water bottles (1 filled with PowerAde),
6 gels, 4 jerky sticks, 1 honey stinger waffle, enough salt pills for 4 hours,
Advil, a dry shirt, body glide, wet naps and my cell phone. We were about 30
minutes till the start and I was getting a little hungry. All I had eaten so
far was my normal peanut butter and Nutella sandwich I eat before every run
about 2 and a half hours earlier. I decided to go ahead and down a gel and eat
a beef jerky stick to get some calories in. In hindsight this wasn’t nearly
enough. We got a few pictures in and we headed down to the starting line.
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| Waiting on the start. |
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| All smiles minutes before the race. |
At the starting line I saw my new buddy David Pharr who I’ve
had the pleasure to train with over the past month. David finished Thunder Rock
last year so I really leaned on him for advice and guidance going into the
race. Without him I would have never been as prepared for race day as I was. We
introduced our families to each other and I had the privilege to meet a few
other runners. The seconds drew near and before I knew it the race was about to
start. I hugged my parents, kissed my wife and then I was on my way.
The first section of Thunder Rock is the most strenuous.
It’s about 18 miles and includes the largest climb of the entire race (all the
way up to Oswald’s Dome), the largest downhill of the entire race, a lot of
exposure to the sun (it was mid-day), and crossing the Hiwassee River. My goal
for this section was to reach the Gee Creek aid station, which was on the other
side of the Hiwassee by 3:30pm.
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| First mile on the trail. |
We started out on the road inside the Parksville Lake
Campground and circled around the campground till we took a left down the
trails. The trails would be a steady climb for about 10 miles. I saw David
ahead of me pushing an incredibly fast pace. I decided I would try to keep him
in my sight and that should carry me through. Five minutes into the race and I
was completely soaked from sweat due to the humidity. The trails at the
beginning were incredibly runnable. I knew I was probably pushing myself a
little harder than I should at the beginning but I told myself I needed to take
advantage of these easy trails. I was slowing passing people and kept my pace
up even though I was already starting to get a little hot.
Around 8.5 miles was the first aid station of the race, Mulepen
Gap. When I arrived David was already there refueling. My nutrition plan for
the race was to eat a gel or jerky every half hour and to throw down at every
aid station. For some stupid reason all I grabbed at Mulepen Gap were 2 orange
slices… I don’t know what I was thinking. I needed more calories, especially
since I was about to make the largest climb of the race. Instead of eating more
and drinking my water and refilling it a few times all I did was grab the
oranges, refill my water and headed out towards Oswald’s Dome for a 3 mile 1000
foot climb up a totally exposed gravel road.
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| David and I heading up towards Oswald's Dome. |
David and I set out towards Oswald’s Dome. I was feeling
pretty good and even pulled my phone out for a pic and checked my cell signal.
I had service so I sent the pic to Carmen and continued my climb up the
mountain. David is much better climber than I am and pulled way ahead of me
until I couldn’t see him in my sight anymore. As I was slowly grinding my way
up the mountain I began to get passed by a few runners here and there. About a
mile away from the top I met a guy named Jerry from Fort. Worth, Texas. Jerry
has ran over 84 ultras and was running in Tennessee for the first time with 2
other buddies of his that drove all the way from Texas. We chatted for a bit as
we climbed all the way up to Oswald’s Dome.
At the top of the mountain we took a left back onto some
single track trails that switch backed all the way back down. I was looking
forward to this downhill section to get some speed but halfway through I was
looking forward to it ending. The constant pounding was jarring my entire body.
For almost 4 miles this continued and I was feeling more wrecked during this
section than I was during the entire climb up. Part of the trail became
extremely narrow with a substantial drop off on one side. I rolled my left
ankle pretty good at one point and ended up having to slow down. I was able to
run through the pain and it loosened itself out. No harm. Once I reached the
bottom of the mountain I crossed a road and was right at the edge of the
Hiwassee River.
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| Crossing the Hiwassee River. |
I came to the river’s edge where all the runners were
entering and could see that the water wasn’t too terribly deep. “It’s only
waist high”, one of the volunteers at the river said, “You shouldn’t have to
use the rope.” I climbed down into the nice cool Hiwassee. It felt so good on
my legs. I started wading out across the water. Some of the runners were
dunking themselves and swimming in it to cool off a bit. I would have joined
them but I didn’t put my cell phone in a plastic bag so I needed to keep my
upper half dry. There were volunteers out in the water helping and I wanted to
just stay there all day, but I had to keep moving. I wasted no time and crossed
the river. I pulled myself out on the other side and continued on about a
quarter mile to the next aid station and where I would see my crew for the
first time.
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| Crossing the Hiwassee River. |
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| Coming into Gee Creek aid station. |
I came into the Gee Creek aid station right at 3:15pm.
That's a whole 15 minutes faster than I had planned. Although that may not
sound like much, it meant I was running close to one whole minute per mile
faster. Once again I just grabbed a few orange slices from the aid station and
went to see my family who were set up just a few yards away. I sat down and
took off my soaking wet shoes and socks, dried my feet, and threw on a fresh
pair of socks, my newer pair of shoes that I would wear the rest of the race,
and a fresh shirt. I told my crew that I was feeling dehydrated and went out
much too fast during the first section. Carmen, mom, and dad helped refill my
bottles with PowerAde and water then replaced my gels, jerky, and threw a
peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my bag. I was feeling pretty rough and was
not looking forward to the next section of the race.
I headed out of the aid station after grabbing another orange
(why didn't I eat my sandwich at this point?!). As I was leaving ages Creek, I
passed David who was talking with his wife and refueling all his gear. He
caught up to me and we ran together for just a few minutes before he took off
up Starr Mountain.
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| Eating oranges at Gee Creek aid station. |
Starr Mountain. I have a complete love hate with this part
of the race. For the next 23 or so miles the course would take runners on
another large climb up to the top of Starr Mountain, over the top, and back
down on the other side. As I started making my ascent my body began to make its
descent. The more I climbed the more I began to feel sick to my stomach and
weak. My slow steady run quickly became a slow steady hike. I popped a gel
trying to get some energy and I immediately wanted to puke it up. When it was time
for me to take more salt tablets I got one stuck in my throat and ended up
drinking half a bottle of water just to get it to go down. The grueling pain
just continued to go on. I started thinking to myself "You're not going to
be able to do this." "You are going to have to drop out."
"You aren't even a quarter of the way through this race." I began to
think about what I was going to tell people when they found out I failed what I
started. I also kept hoping that I could turn this race around once I got to
the next aid station, ate some food and rehydrated. These thoughts continued on
for miles and miles it seemed, and then it rained.
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| Feeling like crap, but enjoying the view. |
The rain poured and poured turning the
trails into muddy flowing rivers. I tried to avoid as much of the water as I could
but it was pointless. I just grit down and sludged on through the mud. Although
I wasn't feeling any better physically, there is something about running in the
rain that I love and lifted my spirit. I was almost out of water completely so
I opened one of my bottles to try to get some rain water but it just wasn’t
collecting. As I painfully moved on I began to think of Carmen and my parents.
I was really hoping they were somewhere dry. As the mountain continued to climb
the rain began to subside. I came to a spot where there was a clearing in the
trees which looked like it led to a decent view. I was not disappointed. I
pulled my phone out and unzipped it from the plastic bag I put it in when it
started to rain to snatch a few pics. The view of the mountains and valley
below was beautiful. The rain had completely stopped and there was a low fog
rising from the valley. I looked at my watch, it was 4:30pm and I was around
22miles. I knew I should be coming up to the next aid station soon, Iron Gap,
and I was still hoping I could recover once I got there.
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| View from atop Starr Mountain. |
On the way to Iron Gap aid station I
was passed by a group of 3 guys running together. I was able to stay pretty
close to them all the way to the aid station. I arrived at Iron Gap around
5:10pm. To my surprise I got there with quite a bit of other runners. For most
of the Starr Mountain climb I was alone only, spotting single runners here or
there. It seemed that we all funneled into the aid station around the same time
though. At Iron Gap I began to feel really sick. Sometimes when you stop moving
you feel worse than you did if you kept on. I ate a couple more oranges
and really nothing else at that aid station. I decided to take a few minutes here and try to get in a good bit of
water. One of the volunteers asked how I was doing and I told her it was my
stomach. She encouraged me to take some time there with them before heading back
out. I crouched down trying to decide what to do. What were my options? There
was only one, keep moving. I pounded some more water, grabbed some gels and
headed out of the aid station. At this point runners were coming and going out
of Iron Gap quite a bit and I didn’t feel so alone out there.
Leaving the Iron Gap aid station,
runners begin to take a forest service road for several miles before hitting
single track trails again near the Hogback Ridge and Bullet Creek sections. The
service road continues to climb a good bit and I found myself still
walk/running a slow pace. As I was a moving onward a runner came up beside and
stopped. “Hey man, are you ok?” the guy asked. “Naw, not really” I said. He
asked me what was wrong and I told him it was my stomach. He offered me some
Tums and I politely declined. “I’m gonna let it work itself out” I told him.
The man was Bill Ford from Oklahoma.
Bill and I talked for a bit and he
offered me some Tums a second time. This time I put my stubbornness aside and
accepted his gracious offer. I don’t know if it was the Tums, the conversation,
the companionship of running with another person after a decent stretch of
running solo, or a combination of all three, but I immediately began to feel
better. As soon as I took some Tums I was able to force another gel down and
jerky stick. Bill and I picked up the pace, finished the service road and
jumped onto the single track trails that took us along the spine of the
mountain and treated us to some amazing views on both side. I felt like a whole
new person. I was at one of the lowest points of my running life, debating even
continuing the race and now I was pushing a good pace (or so it felt, lol)
across the mountain chatting it up with Bill and feeling great. This is what
everyone must’ve been talking about when they mention the lows and the highs of
ultra-running. I’ve experienced low points in races before, but never to the
extreme I did that day.
As we continued on across the mountain,
the views were stunning. It was evening now, I believe in the 6’oclock hour,
and we were getting close to our next aid station, Bullet Creek. As we headed
down the mountain on some great trails with great views, we came across Nathan
Judd, official Thunder Rock cameraman, getting some great GoPro footage of the
beautiful views. Nathan and I both knew who each other were but never
officially met so I stopped and Bill and I both exchanged pleasantries with
Nathan before continuing on. Before we arrived at the Bullet Creek aid station
we met some more runners and were joined by a young helicopter pilot named Nate
who Bill had ran with prior in the race. The three of us came into and left the
Bullet Creek aid station together around 7pm, about 32miles into the race. I
was able to eat a little bit more at this aid station. Along with oranges, I
downed a few pickles and potatoes. As we left the aid station onto another
small forest service road section, I looked back and enjoyed the beautiful view
of bullet creek and a small waterfall running just beside the aid station.
Bill, Nate, and I hammered on. We were
able to enjoy about 3 incredible miles on some beautiful single track that I
absolutely loved. Leading the group, the three of us walked the inclines and
ran the flats and downhills. I can’t describe how much fun I was having at this
point. I really enjoyed running with these two guys and was feeling 100%
physically and mentally. At around mile 36-37 we came out of the single track
trail and onto a wide forest road (Starr Mtn. Rd.). This would run for 3 miles
before coming out onto Highway 315. I looked at my watch, it was 8pm. I told my
crew I would be at the next crew area (mile 41) around 8:30-9pm. This was an
important stop for me because I was going to be picking up my first pacer Josh
Cole, and I didn’t want to be late and keep my crew waiting. Since the road was
flat and dirt and I was able to push my pace. I looked behind me and saw Bill
and Nate slowing down a bit. I stopped because I really didn’t want to leave
them. Bill told me I was looking great and to keep on going that he was going
to pull back a bit. I wanted to wait for them so bad but I knew I had to get to
my crew. Feeling like a total hack I continued on until I couldn’t see Bill or
Nate behind me anymore.
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| Starr Mountain Road |
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| Feeling back to normal on Starr Mtn Rd. |
As frustrated as I was for leaving my
two new buddies behind, I was frustrated more by the time ticking away. I knew
Josh was waiting on me so I had to get to the crew station by 9pm, no later. I
continued on down Starr Mountain Road as the sun was setting. I had my headlamp
in my bag but didn’t want to fool with pulling it out. The dusk sky still gave
me plenty of light to see. I was still feeling great and enjoyed this easy
section as the night was slowly approaching. I took my phone out a few times to
snap some quick pics. As I ran down the road, a creek flowed beside it. This
was such a peaceful section for me. I was feeling great, running good, was in a
nice enjoyable area, and about to pick up my pacer. I came to the end of the
service road and hopped onto Highway 315 for a short sprint down to the crew
station.
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| Headlamp on. Ready for the night. |
Coming into the mile 41 crew station
was one of the most incredible parts of the race. This is not an official aid
station with volunteers, but just a stop for runners with crews and the first
part of the race where pacers are allowed to join runners. As I came close to
where the crews are I could see people lined up on both sides of the road. Everyone
began to clap and cheer me on when I came by. It was such an encouraging boost
to hear all the support from everyone’s crews. I frantically looked around
until I saw Carmen and my dad. They directed me towards the car where they had
a chair for me. I sat down real quick and began to tell them about my low point
and how I recovered. I asked them to stop and get me some Tums to have the next
time I saw them. Mom had some Rolaids she was able to give me. I changed shirts
again, emptied some rocks and debris from my shoes and refilled my water and
nutrition. I apologized to Josh and my family for being late. Josh was already
in 100% pacer mode. He began to ask me when the last time I ate was, how much
salt I was in taking, and so forth. I was currently taking 2 salt tabs every
hour on the hour. I am an extremely heavy sweater and Josh told me that wasn’t
enough and had me pop 5 right then and there. I also ate another gel and threw
another PB&J sandwich in my pack. I threw my headlamp on and before Josh
and I headed out I told my parents about Bill. I said there will be 2 guys
coming in soon, one named Bill wearing a blue shirt. I said he doesn’t have any
crew and he helped me at my lowest point in the race, wait for him and give him
anything he needs. It was right around 9pm and Josh and I headed out on our
way.
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| Josh and I heading out. |
With 9 hours ran, 41 miles down,
headlamps on, Josh and I began the longest section of road miles on the course.
I believe the runner’s guide said somewhere around 13+ miles of forest service
roads and rutted out single lane. The plan was for Josh to run with me all the
way to Reliance (mile 63) and to get there around 2:00am. The next aid station,
Manning Cabin, was just 3 miles away. As we headed out on the road I began to
crash again. “Not again” I remember thinking to myself. Fortunately I had Josh
with me though. I tried to fight it as much as I could, but I kept slowing down
forcing us to hike a large bit of this section. It was obvious I was beginning
to struggle and Josh knew it. He stayed on me about eating having me chew on my
jerky sticks when I could. Just when I felt we were beginning to make some
better progress, we ran past a side road with course markers that looked as if
they were pointing runners out from that side road. We both stopped and
wondered if we had made a wrong turn and were supposed to come out from that
road. Up ahead we could see the headlamp of another runner so we continued on
following them. About a quarter mile later just as we passed the runner we were
following, another runner comes running towards us. “I missed the aid station,
I have to go back.” He told us. Josh and I both looked puzzled and thought of
the markers we passed just down the road. We must’ve missed it as well so we
turned around headed back to the side road. This little mistake depleted what
little moral I was holding onto. As we made the turn onto the side road there were
2 good size uphill climbs. We climbed one then made another wrong turn before
running into the other runner who stopped to ask a local where the aid station
was. Of course it was up the tallest hill. The 3 of us climbed to the top where
we could see the lights of aid station. Whew, that was a relief. It was a tiny
mistake that added an extra mile or so and a little bit of elevation. We got to
the aid station and informed them that apparently the course markings to get
there were easily missed. A few of the volunteers even mentioned they thought
that would happen. Oh well, we made it and what a good aid station it was.
Manning Cabin was the best yet. With lights strung up and music playing,
Manning Cabin aid station was hosting a Hawaiian theme. They had pizza, all
kinds of fruit, bacon, sandwiches, pickles... You name it, they had it. Josh
made sure I ate as much as I could. As I was grabbing food I heard “Hey Nick!”
I turned to see it was Bill. Apparently he had taken the correct path and made
it to the aid station before us. Bill wasn’t looking to good though and was
sitting in a chair with ice on his knee. He told me he wasn’t doing too well
and I could tell in his face that his race was over. Josh, being a nurse
practitioner, took a look at Bill’s knee and talked to him for a bit. I thanked
Bill again for everything he did for me earlier and he wished me luck for the
rest of the race, even offering the rest of his Tums to me saying he wasn’t
going to be needing them. We departed with a fist bump and my heart was heavy
as Josh and I pulled out of the aid station.
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| Roads, roads, and more roads. |
The next 7 miles are the most blurriest
in my mind. Josh and I followed the course on the gravel service roads all the
way to the next aid station at mile 50, Coker Falls. I had begun to crash pretty
hard again. Since this was a road section and I had Josh with me, I was able to
just zone out and focus on feeling better. I remember not wanting to eat but
forcing a sandwich down when Josh told me to. I remember not wanting to drink
but chugging water and PowerAde when Josh told me to. I remember sections where
I barely said a word but Josh continued to talk and laugh to keep my spirits
up. This continued on for what seemed like forever. We passed a few other
runners here and there and I can even recall Josh helping another runner who
was struggling by giving him a handful of salt tablets to take. At several
times I thought to myself how miserable this must be for him. Josh had made an
hour long trip up to Reliance after working a full day to have to wait with my
family for about an hour till I made it to them, then, drag my miserable butt
through crummy forest service roads in the middle of the night for hours and
hours… did I mention we had only really met just once before the race? I have
no idea what possessed him to want to do all this for me but I am forever
grateful for him.
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| Scorpions all over the roads. |
I can’t remember exactly when, but all
Josh’s effort to get me to eat and drink paid off and like a light switch I
went from low to high again. We both noticed it right away as I went from not
saying a word to chatting it up. Before I knew it we were rolling into the
Coker Falls aid station, mile 50. I believe it was somewhere between 11pm and
midnight. The easiest terrain of the course was over, and the most technical
was about to begin. Josh made sure I ate enough at the aid station and the
volunteers warned us of the technical trails ahead. I think both Josh and I
were looking forward to some single track trails despite how technical it was
going to be. We left the aid station and jumped onto the John Muir trail.
The John Muir trail is about a 10 mile
stretch that runs alongside the Hiwassee River. I was feeling good again and
was happy to be back on the trails. The volunteers weren’t lying, it was
technical. Roots, rocks, ridges, climbing, you name it John Muir had it.
Despite the terrain it felt as if we were making decent time. The bullfrogs
were croaking all the way along the river and we joked about them throughout
the night. We passed a few runners during this stretch as well as some
volunteers just out on the trails checking on racers. The sound of the Hiwassee
running beside us was so pleasant and I so wished I was able to see this area
in daylight. I tried to pick up the pace the best I could on the flat sections
and one time Josh said to me, “You know you’re ridge-running right?” I looked
off to my left shining my headlamp towards a black nothingness. I had failed to
realize that we were on a narrow trail with a shoulder drop off next to us and
I was just bouncing over rocks like it was nothing. I slowed down. As we
continued along the ridgeline, we could tell there was a clearing with a decent
view beside us. We turned both our headlamps off to see if any stars were
visible in the night sky. Total utter blackness. It was as if my eyes were
closed. No moon or stars tonight. Oh well, it was still a pretty amazing
feeling.
We arrived at the next aid station, the
Powerhouse, around 2:00am. I had planned on getting to Reliance (mile 63) around
2:00am but was just now getting to the Powerhouse. I realized that my crash
earlier on the roads had put me way behind my predicted pace. All I could do
was make the best of it. We were greeted at the Powerhouse aid station by
familiar faces. Nathan Holland and his family were running this aid station
along with some other incredibly talented local runners. Josh and Nathan are
good friends and I could tell Josh was glad to see his buddies out here. The
Holland’s aid station did not disappoint. The best food of the race was eaten
right here. Mini tacos, bacon, bacon wrapped pickles, fruit, etc. It was
delicious! I think Josh and I could have ended right then and there and just
hung out the rest of the night. We chowed down, said our goodbyes and were on
our way. We had 7 miles to Reliance and that’s where Josh was going to
relinquish his pacer duties for the night.
After some easy trail miles where I was
able to hammer down a bit and a few more road miles we arrived into sleepy
Reliance right around 3:30am, an hour and a half behind my planned schedule. We
found my tired family waiting beside their car for me. I swapped shirts again
and Josh helped make sure I had enough supplies to last me the next section, a
10 mile stretch to the next aid station. I decided to carry a third water
bottle in my pack this time, something I should have been doing all race. I
thanked Josh for all he did for me and told him not to fall asleep on his drive
back home. I told Carmen and my parents that this next section would probably
take me close to 6 hours and not to expect me until 9am at the next crew stop.
I stopped by the Reliance aid station tent to refill and grab some solid food
before heading out into the darkness alone.
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| Checking out the buffet at the Reliance aid station before heading back out. |
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| Another creek crossing. |
I had 10 miles of good trails to go
before hitting the next aid station at Deep Gap. If there was one section of
the race that I felt defined who I am it was this one. Leading up to the race I
was really concerned with this long 10 mile stretch. I knew it was going to be
in the middle of the night, I knew I was going to be alone after just running
with a pacer, I knew it involved one of the steepest climbs of the race, and it
was all just past the furthest I’ve ever ran before. Despite all that, I headed
out on my own, crossed a decent sized creek, and just fell into rhythm.
I passed 6 runners, not including
pacers during this stretch. I felt like I was moving effortlessly. I would look
at the time on my watch expecting to start getting sleepy or drowsy at any
moment but tiredness never came. I ran through dense forest and into grassy open
fields. As the trail began to climb up the mountain I could feel the breeze
begin to blow. In one large field surrounded by overgrowth and tall grass, I
turned my headlamp off and took a few seconds just standing out there in
complete darkness. I used this section for a lot of self-reflection. I thought
of how far I had come in the past year. I thought of my family and friends and
all the support I am blessed with. I was completely alone out there yet I
didn’t feel like I was. I continued along and the next thing I knew the
darkness was beginning to fade away to the daylight. I came upon a sign in the
middle of the trail with a blinking little red light on it. It read,
“Congratulations, you are just 1 mile away from the Deep Gap aid station”. I’ll
be there in no time I thought.
Well, that 1 mile was all uphill.
Knowing that this was the last of the large ascents helped make the journey up
a little bit easier. As I moved forward the sun began to creep and I turned my
headlamp off. I kept checking the elevation on my watch to see how close I was.
Up and up I went until I could begin to hear the generator churning at the Deep
Gap aid station just above me. As I neared the top of the climb (or so I
thought) I made my way into the aid station manned by the volunteers for the
Pistol Ultra Races out in Alcoa, TN. These guys knew how to run a great aid
station and I was greeted warmly and offered everything under the sun. They
even had pancakes! I would pass 3 more runners at the Deep Gap aid station,
unfortunately one was my friend David.
I was still feeling really good and as
I was looking over the buffet of food when I heard my name “Hey, it’s Nick!” I
looked over to see my buddy David Pharr sitting in a chair with one shoe off.
Another runner was wrapped in a space blanket sitting beside him and a third
runner was laid out on a stretcher surrounded by medics. I felt like I was in a
war scene. I asked David “What are you doing here? You are supposed to be way
ahead of me. How are you feeling?” he gave me a big thumbs down. I sat down in
the empty chair beside him and asked what was going on. The poor guy’s foot was
completely wrecked. It looked so painful. I asked him if there was anything I
could do for him and he said if I saw his wife to tell her he was there and about
his feet. We wished each other good luck, I refilled all my bottles, and I pushed
on. Deep Gap aid station wasn’t the top of the mountain just yet, I still had
about 600 more feet of climbing to go. As I climbed I took the time to say a
prayer for David. He played a vital role in my preparation for Thunder Rock and
it killed me to see him done.
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| The sun rising through the trees. |
I neared the top with the sun beginning
to shine and the breeze beginning to blow. It was 7am and I took out my phone
to see if I had a cell signal. I did! I shot Carmen a quick text, “Good
morning!” I had 8 miles to go till I saw my crew again and picked up my next
pacer, Kenny.
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| Morning is here! |
The next 8 miles were mainly on a
forest service road that seemed to circle around and around the mountain headed
down. Unlike the other service roads in the race, this one ran more like a
trail with lots of overgrowth on it and I really enjoyed it. Near the bottom
and close to the road crossing which would take me to the next crew and aid
station was a ¼ mile miserable bushwhacking section. This section was not a
trail but a “path” cut through the woods. The terrain was uneven, muddy, small
and painful. I cut through this area mostly on a slope and my already tender
feet could feel the skin pull and stretch as my feet remained mostly angled. It
hurt so bad. Finally I popped out of this mess out onto a real trail again that
led me downhill just a bit further until it came out right onto Highway 64.
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| Views as I came down and around the mountain. |
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| Lots of overgrowth on the service road. Can you spot the trail? |
The trail spit runners our right across
the street from the Thunder Rock campground which would be the next crew and
aid station, mile 83. I checked for traffic and ran across one lane. I was about to cross the second lane when I saw a large tractor trailer truck
coming towards me. I paused for a moment then said screw it and sprinted across
the road. There was a volunteer across the street waiting on runners and began
to cheer as I ran across the road. “You’re the first person brave enough to
dart out in front of a truck.” He said. I told him I had a race to finish and
couldn’t wait on any trucks. Lol. I came across the bridge near the TVA
facility that ran across the Ocoee River. I could see crew members standing at
the end of the bridge looking on and I began to see my family. I could see my
brother Micah and his girlfriend Paige snapping photos so I gave them a couple
flex poses. I ran into the crew area and asked where the car was. Mom ran ahead
of me showing me to it. I sat down on the curb to change out my socks and empty
debris from my shoes and I noticed my crew size had tripled since last time.
Along with Carmen, my parents and my friend/pacer Kenny Gordon were my brother
and his girlfriend as well as my sister-in-law Cheryl and brother-in-law Joe
with my 18 month old niece Zoe. I changed shirts for the last time, put on some
dry socks, ate some more bacon at the aid station, thanked everyone for being
there and headed out with Kenny. Just 17 miles to go!
 |
| Coming across the Ocoee. |
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| Kenny playing photographer behind me. |
Kenny is a great friend of mine who
actually got me into running 4 years ago after he completed his first
half-marathon. He was going to run the next 10 miles with me then dip out for
me to finish the final 7 miles on my own. Being my first hundred mile race,
none of us had any idea what shape I would be in 83 miles in. I think Kenny was
kind of taken back by how good of shape I was in. Expecting a walking zombie to
push for 10 miles, the two of us knocked out the next section like any other
training run we would have ran together. We joked about the things we always do
and laughed and had a great the time the entire way. This was critical I think
because once again I was able to zone out and just enjoy being out on the
trails with a friend instead of remembering how many miles I’ve ran.
 |
| Restroom now! |
After 7 miles we came into the next aid
station at the Ocoee Whitewater Center. I think it was somewhere around 10:30am
and my stomach was beginning to remind me of all the gels and jerky I’ve been
eating the past day. Running across the beautiful bridge at the center, I saw
my family once again on the other side. I shouted, “I know there is a bathroom
here, where is it?!” My brother ran and showed me where to go. While I was
washing my hands my brother popped his head in to make sure I was alright. I
told him I was just enjoying washing my hands for the first time in a day.
Outside the whitewater center was Nathan Judd doing his cameraman work again.
We stopped and talked for just a quick second before I found Kenny and we began
the next 3 mile stretch.
As we ran alongside the Ocoee River,
the rapids were flowing and rafters were barreling down the river. It was so
awesome to watch. Kenny and I made it to the next stop for crew just a short 3
miles away. The trail dumped us out at an area for rafters and kayakers to
enter the Ocoee and we traveled up a steep road for about ¼ mile to where my
crew was waiting one last time. At this section my in-laws had left but my run
crazy cousin Beth and her son Bennett were there to cheer me on. My brother had
showed up in his running gear and asked if I needed him for the final stretch.
I told him thanks but I was feeling great and I was going to finish this thing
on my own. I thanked Kenny for the enjoyable miles and he told me he’d be
waiting to see me at the finish. I got a high-five from my cousin, a hug from my mom, and a kiss
from my amazing wife before jumping back on the trail for the final stretch.
 |
| Kenny and I making it up our last climb. |
The
last section was made up of mainly mountain bike trails. After another mile of
straight climbing I reached the next and final aid station, Boyd Gap. I was so
excited to know how close I was to finishing that I joked around with the
volunteers at Boyd Gap for a moment. They all told me I was looking great and
the next few miles should be a breeze. I topped off my bottles and began to
leave when I saw a runner hunched over with his pacer standing beside him
looking concerned. The racer was an older gentleman and Kenny and I had been
leap-frogging him and his pacer back-and-forth since the Whitewater Center. He
didn’t look to good. The guy told me he
hadn’t been able to keep any food down since mile 31. We encouraged each other and
then I darted back off onto the trail.
The
trails from here until about a mile out from the finish were easily runnable,
unfortunately running wasn’t coming easy. Although I felt better at 95 miles
into the race than I did back at 20, the beating I had been putting on my body
for the past 23 hours was taking its toll. My feet felt like I was running
barefoot on gravel since around mile 75 and my right hip flexor had been
progressively getting worse. I ran as long as I could then I would walk, run as
long as I could again then walk. I looked at my watch right as the hour hit
noon. 24 hours I had been out there. I knew I didn’t have much further to go. I
pulled out my cell phone to check my GPS location. I was getting close to
Highway 64 again. I knew once I crossed over to the other side of 64 I was just
a short stretch to the finish. A short brutal stretch I would find out.
It was
nearing 1pm Saturday afternoon when I crossed under Highway 64. The trail I was
on disappeared and I was lead onto the 2nd stretch of bushwhacking.
Once again the uneven terrain was absolute misery on my battered feet. The
course markings lead me towards one final decent creek crossing. When I got to
the other side of the creek, I realized the bank was pretty high. The race director
had attached a rope hanging off the edge so you could pull yourself up and out
of the creek. After running 99 miles I had to stand there for a moment and draw
a little energy to grab that rope and pull myself up. Once out of the water, I
continued bushwhacking a tad bit longer then reached a service road. The
service road came to an intersection. Left was flat, right was flat, behind me
was flat but the course markings pointed straight, and straight was right up
another hill. I looked ahead and saw another runner making his way up the
climb. I grit down, put my hands on my knees and began what I hoped would be my
final ascent. I looked up and saw the runner ahead of me at the top. He turned
around and looked at me confused as if he didn’t know where to go. He pointed
towards his left as if asking if that was the right way. I threw my hands up in
the air and shrugged thinking to myself “Dude I’m 200 yard behind you, how
should I know?” When I reached the top there was nowhere to go but left. I
guess the poor guy was just tired and out of it.
 |
| The final descent to the finish. |
The
last and final quarter mile of the race zigzagged down the service road. I was
listening to hear when the runner ahead of me crossed the finish line so I knew
how close I would be. I heard him cross and at that moment I knew the next
Thunder Rock 100 finisher was going to be me. As I came down the final stretch
I saw the finish line. It was gorgeous! I came down off the hill and made my
final push. I crossed the finish line after 25 hours, 14 minutes, and 17
seconds. Carmen was waiting at the end and she threw her arms around my stinky
sweaty self for a hug. I heard Randy Whorton, the race director, announce my
name and he came over and gave me the most sincere congratulations I think I’ve
ever received. You could see in his face he was proud of this race and of the
people who challenged it. I thanked him for the opportunity to run and for all
the time and effort it took in preparing such an event. He told me to go see my
family and rest and they would bring my finisher’s buckle to me. My buckle! I
had completely forgotten about it. The thing I was chasing for so long was the
thing least on my mind at the end. My family was there and had set up a chair
for me along with all my gear. I sat down and noticed one of my best friends,
Viral, was there. I began to take my shoes and socks off to see the carnage. We
were all pretty surprised to see that my feet didn’t look too bad at all. Over
100 miles traveled, several river and creek crossings, pouring rain, and I had
maybe 1 or 2 blisters.
 |
| Crossing the finish. |
 |
| Hugging the wife. |
After
taking a breather, I made my way over to one of the tents where they had a
grill going. I grabbed a burger, some chips and some Coke and sat bat down for
a few minutes. I told my family a few stories and I asked them what all they’ve
been doing. After a little while and cheering on some more finishers we packed
up and headed to the cars. Mom and dad were leaving the race to go directly to
Maryville, TN to help my younger sister move out of her college dorm. I thanked
everyone for all they did for me, said goodbyes to Kenny, Viral, my parents,
and my brother and then Carmen and I headed back for the long drive home.
Carmen drove so I could go look at my phone. It had completely blown up with
texts and Facebook messages over the past day. The amount of support from my
friends and family was incredibly humbling.
 |
| Swollen 100 mile feet. |
I would later learn that only 40% of
runners would finish Thunder Rock this year. I am extremely proud and thankful
to say that I finished such a brutal race that claimed 60% of its starters. Without
a doubt, I would have increased that drop rate if not for the help of Bill Ford
from Oklahoma, who stopped to help a runner he saw struggling; Josh Cole, who
gave up so much of his precious time and energy to help get me through the
toughest night of my life for nothing in return; Kenny Gordon who flew in from
working out of town, on his birthday no less, to come and help me get through
some of the final miles; my parents, who were awake for close to 48 hours as
they crewed their son; David Pharr, who helped train with me leading up to
Thunder Rock and was full of ultra-information and advice; and my beautiful
amazing wife Carmen, who wanted nothing more than for me to NOT run 100 miles,
yet stood by and supported me 101% as I embarked on this adventure. Thanks to
all the volunteers, crews, runners, and supporters that made Thunder Rock 100
such an amazing experience for me and everyone else.
I was asked several times during the
race if I would ever do this again and I would always respond with a resounding
“NO!”, “one and done” I would tell them. We all know you can’t ask those kinds
of questions during an event though. As the days go by the soreness begins to
fade. The pain I remember enduring doesn’t seem so bad anymore and I can’t stop
relieving all the enjoyment I experienced. Each work day that passes I long
more and more to be back out in the wilderness. The thought of not running
another 100 mile race seems more absurd than signing up for one again. I’m not
sure what the future holds just yet, but as far as Thunder Rock goes I’ll be back
one way or another next year; if not as a runner then as volunteer or crew to
payback the generosity I was given this year.
 |
| Thunder Rock 100 buckle |
101 Miles traveled - 18,711 feet of
elevation gain
Finish Time: 25:14:17
Overall Place: 18th
Thanks to Wild Trails, Randy and Kris Whorton, who put on such perfect races and to all the volunteers that spend so much of their own time to allow runners like myself to enjoy the long days in the woods. Thank you to all my running friends mentioned above for your constant encouragement and friendship. It has contributed to me becoming a better runner and a better person. Congrats to all the runners who were brave enough to attempt such a long distance and thanks for all the kind words and conversations along the course. Here's to a 2016 full of new running and trail adventures!
