The Accidental 60-miler at the Sierra Nevada Endurance Run

Last Saturday, I joined 150 runners for the Sierra Nevada Endurance Run (Double Marathon) and Rio del Lago 100-miler near Auburn, CA. We had fantastic weather, and despite some navigational errors that cost me the race, I had a fantastic time getting to know the other runners/volunteers and returning to the American River Canyon.

The SNER was my first race back after injuring my leg/knee at the Tahoe Rim Trail 100-miler, and I was as giddy as a school girl pinning a race number on for the first time in months. I knew it was possible that I wouldn’t make it to the finish on this 53.6 mile, 10,000 vertical foot run – it was too important to keep my health, so I made a deal with myself that I would drop at the first sign of trouble. But I hadn’t done this course yet and was still in the running for the Ultrarunner.net Series, so I figured I should at least try. I also had some new gear to try out – the Nathan lightweight HPL running vest (of Krissy Moehl fame), and a couple of big gun 26 oz water bottles for the longer stretches.

(Norm tells us how it's going to be)

The weather forecast was darn near perfect – low 50’s with a slight chance of rain – which opened the door for some really fast times. Race Director Norm Klein gathered us into the Cavitt School gymnasium, letting us know that registration was up 40% this year! I did see a lot of new faces, as well as the familiar smiling mugs of Jon Olsen (winner of the Rio 100 the last two years and course record holder), Mark Tanaka (2nd the last two years at the Rio 100), Chihping Fu, Peter Lubbers, Paul Charteris, and many others. I was cracking up hearing people say “I’m only doing the sprint today” – that’s still 53 miles! Only in the ultra community…

(All smiles at the start)

At the 6am start, it was still pitch black outside, but the 100-milers were happy to share their lights as we all headed out 2x2. Jon Olsen broke from the pack right away, and in an instant, he had disappeared into the dark. I paced along with Mark Tanaka and Julie Fingar, who were going super-fast for their 100-mile adventure. Julie knew the course by heart, and helped Mark and I navigate some tricky trail changes in the first few miles.

We hit the first aid station (mile 4), just as the daylight lit up the foggy clouds. They said we were #2, 3, and 4, but before we could get too excited, a pack of five others went flying by led by Tom Riley. Julie and Mark were too experienced to get caught up in it, and they still had 96 miles to go. After a quick bite, we were mule-training down the trail again and caught up to the others.

Mark took the lead in the pack, and before too long he had gapped us. I found a comfortable pace with Suzie Lister, whose name I recognized from years of results at Western States, but was meeting in person for the first time. Suzie had just returned to States this year after an 8 year break to have two kids (5 and 7), and beat her former PR by 10 minutes to finish in 21:35! I love to hear it when people come back and run faster as a Master. Given her pace at SNER, she was going to be an overall contender here for sure. It was great to chat with her and hear about the 15-odd years she has been involved with States, whether volunteering, pacing Graham Cooper to his 2006 win, or kicking ass herself.

(Suzie Lister poses for a pic on a beautiful section of the course)

The rain threatened, but held back for the most part as we hit the 12-mile aid station. I felt like I was holding back more than I should, and bid Suzie farewell until the turnaround. So far my legs were feeling strong…a little too strong actually. Given my heart rate and pace, I was running much faster than usual. I decided to turn it up a little, but keep some reserves for the return trip.

(Cruising through the trees as the rain comes down)

The horse trails along the American River are wonderful to run – they zig in and out, climbing here and there, alternating between technical rocky sections and fast, flat stretches through the grass. Some of the trail crossings weren’t marked very well, but usually you could just head “upstream” with the river and not get too lost. I gave a few minutes chasing down the wrong ribbons, but always kept the trail in sight.


After another quick aid stop (potatoes and m&m’s), I focused on Cardiac Hill, the long climb up to the Auburn Dam Lookout. 2007 100k Masters Champion Mark Lantz was out crewing for friends, and let me know that Jon Olsen was about 15 minutes ahead and Mark Tanaka was 2 minutes up…and then it was me! I guess I was leading the 53-milers, although it was sobering to know the two guys ahead of me were going twice as far. ;-)

Cardiac was a beast, reducing me to a fast walk for nearly all of it. I was glad I brought the 26 oz bottles, since I had drained them both in the 7 mile section between aid stations. With a quick refill at the top and shot of flat Coke, I headed down the backside towards No Hands bridge. Tim Tweitmeyer and friends were out for a fun run, and shouted support as I came down the switchbacks.


I hit No Hands Bridge in about 4 hours, just as the clouds broke into rain. I chatted with the volunteers, commenting that the 100-milers were outpacing the 53-milers! I asked where to go next, and they pointed me up towards Cool, CA for a “short loop”. I thought I had heard in the morning briefing that the turnaround was at No Hands, but perhaps I misheard – these guys were pretty insistent that I should see if I could catch Tanaka, just a few minutes ahead.

(View from K2)

The loop up to Cool was brutal, by way of Training Hill Trail, also known as “K2” by the locals. It was so steep I had to alternate walking up backwards and forwards, and even made mini-switchbacks of my own. This must be a tough stretch for the 100-milers! It took about 45 minutes for me to reach the peak, and I quickly made it to the Cool aid station. The faces of the volunteers were morose, and I worried that somebody had an accident. Instead, they came up to me and said “we have made a terrible mistake; they were supposed to turn you around at No Hands…we are so sorry”. On top of that, I was 3.5 miles away from the turnaround. Just like that, the wind was sucked from my sails. I hadn’t just lost the race, I just lost the Ultrarunner.net Series, all for a simple mistake.

I tried to keep my cool (in Cool), but was very frustrated. The volunteers were great at keeping me calm. How could that happen? It was a simple mistake. I told them I was a 53-miler! They assumed you knew the course. Why didn’t they send someone after me? You were going too fast. What are my options? You can opt into the 100-miler (probably not the best thing to do after an injury), get a ride back to No Hands (although I was way too far behind to regain the lead), or just keep running. I just shook my head. They told me to “talk to Norm, he will give you extra credit and figure something out for the Series – it was an honest mistake”. True, mistakes do happen. In fact, the mistake was largely mine for not studying the course in advance of the race and knowing which way to go.

So I pressed on. I ran like a banshee, swearing under my breath. I couldn’t believe how angry I was! Not so much at others, but at myself. I barely even said hi to Julie as she went the other way. Then the inevitable happened – I face planted on a steep descent because I wasn’t watching my steps. I wasn’t hurt, but I didn’t want to get up. So I just laid there.

Then it dawned on me. How did I go from “enjoying a long run” to “being furious about my results”? I’ve always prided the fact that I didn’t worry too much about my place/time. On top of it all, now I’m mad at volunteers for something that I could have avoided with better preparation? Geez, Scott, if it wasn’t for volunteers, there wouldn’t even BE a race. Somewhere in the excitement of leading and the news of the mistake, I completely lost my head game. So I took out a Snickers bar, sat on the muddy trail, and focused on getting my mind back on track. It didn’t take much – it was still a gorgeous day to run, my legs were holding up wonderfully, and I would still have run every race in the Series this year even if there wasn’t a Series. I just looked around and sucked in Mother Nature on that quiet section of the trail. Time to just chalk this one up to experience, and make it a 60 mile day.

With a belly full of chocolate and a big smile, I cruised along at a comfortable pace. I ran into Michael Kanning, the 15-year-old phenom attempting his first 100-miler, and he was in great spirits along with the other runners who were enjoying the day. The volunteers at No Hands were apologetic for the situation and helped me load up for the return run, and we all agreed it was no big deal for one runner to get off course. If that was the only thing that went wrong today, it was a super-good day for race directors/volunteers! I loaded up the water bottles and headed back.

(No Hands, as viewed from the WRONG TRAIL! ;-) )

You always see the biggest smiles of an ultra in the mid-pack, and every one of them lifted my spirits. Rajeev and Anil were no exception, and came by in their usual aura of eternal optimism, as did four or five first-timers that were having a blast. All the volunteers along the way knew of my predicament – apparently there was some frantic calling over the walkie-talkies about “#110 who got off course” – and were very pleased to see I was still out running. Jon Olsen was keeping his crazy pace as I hit the Auburn Dam Overlook again (the 100-milers had one more additional loop, so this meant Jon was probably 50 minutes ahead of me), well on his way to a record finish.

(Jon Olsen on his way to his 3rd win at the Rio 100)

Most of the next 10 miles were running solo, listening to the birds and going at a comfortable pace. Mark Tanaka caught me about 10 miles from the finish, and we chatted a bit before he sped ahead. He and Jon had very different support strategies – Jon probably had somebody at every aid station with food ready, pacers, etc., while Mark just had what was on his back and the company of others. Mark was super-impressed with how smart Jon was running so far, as well as how well Julie Fingar was running (she was still in third overall at that point).

(Mark Tanaka gets a quick refill at mile 57)

I cruised in to the finish (11:09, probably near last), and immediately hit the buffet line for turkey, stuffing, and brownies. Some of the other racers asked what happened, and when I shared the story, they called over Norm to see if I could get extra credit for the miles. I told him that I felt the volunteers accidentally sent me the wrong way, compounded by the fact that I was unfamiliar with the course. Norm was uncharacteristically stern with me – What is your problem? How much more clear could I be? Turn around at No Hands, the sign says 26.5 miles! Then he “peshawed” me and walked away. The other racers were stunned... “dude, you just got screwed”.

Well, it is what it is. It was still a great day, and I was extremely pleased that my legs felt so good throughout the 60+ miles. This meant I had plenty of races ahead of me, and most likely a few more race series to try out. I checked the leader board, and Peter Lubbers had won the overall in 9:54! Suzie Lister was less than two minutes behind – I bet Peter was looking over his shoulder a few times. A few more 100-milers checked in as I hit the showers and headed home. I would later find out that Jon Olsen won the 100-miler in 15:31, Mark Tanaka came in second in 18:22, and Julie Fingar won the Women's division in 20:36.

As I drove into the sunset, I couldn’t help but feel like I had passed some sort of life test. I felt no regret about the situation (aside from I should better prepare myself before a race), and could only think about the faces and places that had shared a wonderful day. In fact, I had gotten some great “bonus miles” and saw some of the trail that I missed by not starting at 12 Hours of Cool. Deep inside, I knew I was still running for the right reasons, and felt fortunate that my mind and spirit were along for the fun. I was already looking forward to the next one!