2015 Angeles Crest 100 Race Report

Last month I finished my third AC100  in 7th place in a time of 23:14.   Within a minute of my 2013 time and in the same finish place,  it was nevertheless a very different race.  I  find myself reflecting on how each time I’ve entered this race I’ve had such different experiences.  

My first finish at AC100 in 1991 had been a case of the dog that caught the bus:    At 25,  I was fast  but as a new ultra runner  I had had no idea of what I was getting myself into.  After a great run through Chilao, I blew up  by Newcomb, mile 70 ish, and had struggled through a 32 mile death march to a hard earned 28:34 finish.  I lay on the couch for a couple of days  afterwords unable to climb stairs:  Evidently, speed wasn’t everything.  

In 2013 I came back to this course  after a 15 year absence from long ultras and fulfilled a lifelong goal by earning a silver buckle.   I’d finished in 7th place in a time of 23:13.  It was an ecstatic run in perfect conditions (2013 AC100 Race report).   I’d learned how to train again without getting hurt and was so jazzed about it that I had started a blog with the ill-fated title “Ultrarunning Injury Free” to record my experiences that year.

Excited to race again in 2014, the  hubris of my blog title caught up with me and I DNS’d, having fractured my pelvis in a freak fall while training (Training run gone bad).   It was a memorable walk out of Idlehour and its cellphone dark zone on a broken hip socket.  My wife took me to the Huntington ER where I grayed out.  Admitted for  surgery to screw my hip socket back together with a couple of steel plates, I’d spent seven weeks non weight bearing and wondering whether I would be able to run again. It all hinged on how well my surgeon, Dr. George  Tang, had been able to fit the  hip socket back together, what had happened to the cartilage and would it heal, and whether the head of the femur would survive given the impact it had sustained in my fall.

 I spent the AC100 race weekend that year on crutches as a UMT volunteer (2014 AC100).  Earlier that week my doctor had reviewed my X-rays and  gave the OK for  my goal of entering the 2015 race!   Thus began a year of rehab and training focussed on this year’s AC100 (http://fredippides.blogspot.com/p/2015-training-log.html).

The first step had been  to rename my blog.  (No more “injury free” to tempt the Trail God).

My surgeon, Dr. Tang, had been a master, I had been incredibly fortunate.  My PT, Dr. Mac Kwon at Select PT, pushed me just hard enough, taking me from walking with a limp in early August to limited running by October.   After innumerable  step exercises, lunges, RDLs, glue bridges and clamshells, and religious attention to twice-daily stretching routine to restore lost range of motion, I was able to start a  training ramp to build my running strength back by December.  X-rays in April were clear:  I ran the Leona Divide 50 miler that month  in a reasonable time with no hip pain.

 And so I found myself in race week this year ready to run.    I had achieved my primary goal -  being able to start the race —and I felt that everything from that point was gravy.  Still,  I did have a secret  “A” goal of matching or beating my 2013 time;  I felt that an A+ day could see me in under 23 hours.

Nevertheless, I did have one red light on the dashboard going into the race; amazingly the fractured hip joint  not being a problem.  I’d developed synovitis in the second toe of my right foot- like turf toe —that had gone from uncomfortable six weeks previous  to excruciating in the two weeks before the race.  I’d addressed this first by switching to Hoka “medicine boots” (aka Challenger ATRs)  and then by adding a carbon fiber plate to splint the toes of my right foot  a week before the race.  The carbon plate effectively splinted the toes by preventing them from bending upwards.  I’d also bought a pair of Stinsons for even more protection in case I needed it.  The air quality was also a concern.  Whether due to smog or poodle dog bush or whatever, long runs in the backcountry had been leaving me with burned lungs painful to inhale more deeply than a pant and with a tight feeling in my chest.  I'd seen the doc and had gotten an asthma inhaler for this.  But my expectation was that like in 2013 while this would limit uphill speed it wouldn't compromise downhill speed, where my race would be made or broken.

 Although nervous on the days preceding the race, I had slept well on Thursday night, the key night to get sleep.  On Friday morning my friends  Dale Capewell and Tina Shamah and her son Ethan had met me and my son Zack in Pasadena to drive up to Wrightwood.  After a fretful day of registration and trying to stay chill despite uncharacteristically hot, humid weather and predictions of more tropical humidity  for race day, we had a huge pasta dinner on Friday night  and I crashed at 930pm.  Sleeping solidly I woke at  230am ahead of my alarm.  I washed down leftover linguine with an Ensure with chia and turmeric mixed in.  I felt great and refreshed, ready to race.

Dale and Tina helped me and Zack pack up and then,  collecting a still-snoozing Ethan, we all headed off to the start arriving at 4:30.  A few pics with Zack, Nick Nudell and with Dale and Tina. 

At the start with Zack-  photo: Tina Shamah 

Then the line up -a quick prayer for safety and courage— and we started!

Photo: Ulysses Chan

I ran from the start a bit faster than in 2013 to avoid the pileup on the Acorn Trail.  Soon we had hit the single track and I caught up with my training partner  Alexandre  De’ Sant-Anna.  Power hiking up the blue ridge we made good time up the hill and I felt great although my hamstrings were uncharacteristically tight.  We started the downhill which was at times unbelievably stoney and rutted from the rains the previous week.   Alex saved me from a missed turn as we transitioned  at one point from fire road back to single track.  Reaching  Inspiration Point, mile 9, at 6:53 I was right on my 2013 split.  I ran through,  handing off my pack to Dale and picking up a water and a Gubrew in hand bottles.

Inspiration Point, Dale crewing.  Photo:  Tim Hendricks

Off for the 5 mile jaunt to Vincent gap.  Uneventful, beautiful running ..until I caught a toe and hit the deck cutting my left knee:  Pay attention!  Shaking it off I ran on to Vincent Gap:   There was my son Zack smiling, "you're doing great Dad!" A quick pitstop and then I put on my belt carrying 4 bottles for the long stretch to Islip Saddle. 

 Starting up  the switchbacks leading up  Baden Powell, I made good time.  After a while  Ashley Nordell caught and passed me with a smooth walking stride, making it look very easy— just amazing.

Baden Powell switchbacks: Photo: Ulysses Chan

Topping out there was Larry  Gassan and it was great to see him.  Then on to the stunning runnable contour past Mt. Burnham, Throop Peak, and Mt. Hawkins.  It was getting warm but not nearly as hot as expected.   I felt great.  My legs had finally warmed up and I felt like I was making good time.  A couple other guys had passed me but I was moving comfortably and had caught a couple other guys so I was holding my position…not that it mattered.

At last there was Islip saddle (mile 25.9)  and I was overjoyed about reaching the quarter point of the race.  12 minutes ahead of my 2013 target pace,  I ran right through the A/S to my crew, handed them the belt and drank an Ensure and some cold soup.  

Into Islip Saddle:  Photo: Tim Hendricks

A quick touch up with a handful of Skin lube with Nick Nudell providing a blocking screen (thanks Nick!) and then Dale handed me a couple hand bottles for the 4 mile leg up and over Mt. Williamson to Eagles roost, mile 29. Donning my pack again for the hot stretch down Hwy 2 and into Cooper Canyon,  I made good time to the Burkhardt Trail and ran easy down into Cooper.  Then on to the feared switch backs climbing up to Cloudburst.  I was feeling good but as in 2013 I was feeling the air quality at this point.  I practiced a bit of pursed lip breathing as I ran the uphill section and it seemed to help.  When my GPS indicated mile 37 I expected to find the aid station but to my disappointment it was still nowhere in sight-  I’d forgotten that the course was longer with the PCT section.  I caught up with Tim and Hugo at about this point.  

Towards Cloudburst:  Photo: Ulysses Chan

Finally I reached Cloudburst and there was Geoff Cordner and Uncle Hal offering help with my bottles.  Zack showed up and guided me to where Dale and Tina had set up a chair.  I sat down for a shoe change:   The Hoka Challengers were bugging my left foot and I was developing a hot spot.   Dale, good friend that he is, gooped my  nasty foot with a handful of Skinlube without hesitation and I switched to the Stinsons with carbon fiber insoles for the easy downhill contour to Three Points.   I was now 26 minutes ahead of my 2013 goal pace.

Into Three Points:  Photo: Ulysses Chan

I ran that section drinking only water and got to Three Points (mile 42) in good time at 1:50pm;  Gubrew was starting to taste like battery acid.  Refueling for the hot desert section out to Mt. Hiller, Jean Ho got me a hot dog as I ran out of the station and hit the trail.  I love this section and ran it in 1:07.  Clearing Mt Hillyer I remember hitting the 50 mile point on my GPS in 10:03, cool!  I cruised through the bouldering area towards Horseflats a bit gingerly as my quads and my right knee were starting to go, and the Stinsons felt a bit clunky on this technical terrain.   I hit the Chilao aid station and ran through-  there was my son who ran with me to where Dale and Tina had set up.  The smile on his face was exhilarating!

Chilao with Zack: Photo:  Ethan Shamah

Chilao: It was hot!  Photo:  Ethan Shamah

Here I made a mistake.  I finished off the last of my Clip 2.  I didn't want to drink any more Gubrew so I had a V8, some cold soup  and an Ensure - it was a bad combination and more than I needed.  I'd pay for this later.  Pressing on I ran through to Charleton Flats.  

Heading out of Chilao.  Photo:  Ethan Shamah

Heading off the ridge at Charleton down the switchbacks towards  Shortcut I remember being struck by how much my quads and knee hurt,    since ordinarily I think of this section as an easy cruise.  The Hoka Stinsons felt bulky and unstable on the rocky switchbacks, like trying to run a party barge down white water rapids.  Bottoming out I passed a runner and headed up the short climb to the Shortcut A/S where my crew was waiting.  The legendary Flaco Mendoza was there and we chatted for a few minutes while I changed out the Stinsons for my Challengers:  I knew I needed the more nimble shoes for the single track coming up once I hit Newcomb Saddle.  It was 5:10pm and I was  now 38 minutes ahead of my 2013 pace.

At this point in 2013 my legs had felt gone, but the easy cruise down into the West Fork canyon had recharged my legs, so I wasn’t worried that my legs felt shot.  I kept a steady pace down on the fire road and finally reached the bottom.   For the first time in the day the air felt extremely muggy-  I was now in the front range.  Starting the uphill climb, my plan at this point was to rest the downhill legs with a solid powerhike up to Newcomb Saddle just as I had in 2013.  I reached the top I was moving reasonably well despite increasingly painful and stiff legs and a growing sense of nausea.   I was completely soaked in sweat from the humidity.  But I had arrived at Newcomb Saddle, mile 67,  in broad daylight, at 7:07 pm, 40 minutes ahead of my 2013 split.

I trotted into the A/S and walked to the table —these guys jumped to help me.  I looked at everything on the table  and an Ensure from my drop bag but ughh, nothing looked appealing.   One of the crew offered me Mountain Dew and I thought, why not?  ….It tasted OK on ice.  Filling my bottles with ice water and diluted Mountain Dew I went looking for an acetaminophen which I had stashed in my pack, but it was gone, evidently having fallen out when I loaded lights at Shortcut.  One of the crew gave me a Tums  and I was ready to go.

"Hey look up, you're on camera" the guy at the aid station was pointing over my shoulder.   Turning around I saw the quad copter hovering, and replied "Awh, you're gunna make me run out of here aren't you?" Raising my hand bottle in thanks to the great aid station crew, I headed off on the trail towards Chantry.  I found that as uncomfortable as it was,  I was still able to fake a run.  Only 34 miles to go! The quad copter followed me for about a quarter mile down the trail but thankfully peeled off -my guts were writhing with a sick slimy feeling. 

It was still light out and I was excited by the fact that I could see the twisty single track without a flashlight -  time to make tracks and get as far down the 7 mile trail towards Chantry as possible before having to break out  lights.   Periodically I doused my head with the ice water as it was hot and muggy even at 7pm.  While the Mountain Dew was the only thing at the A/S that had appealed to me I was having a trouble getting it down now.

I was making steady progress but my quads and right knee and IT band hurt like hell.  Every mile the GPS watch I'd donned at Shortcut would buzz off the mile. .69....70..., only 50k left  to run....71 ... now it was dark but I was off the hairy single track and running through the campground.   I was hurting and nauseous and found myself thinking about what excuses I could make to sell a drop to my son Zack and friend Dale waiting at Chantry... Surely the quad pain must be indicative of rhabdo.  I stopped at the outhouse  for some relief ...   straw colored - keep going.

Feeling better I headed on and hit the climb up to Chantry, mile 75.  Dale had ferried my wife and kids up to join him and my crew.  It was great to see them at long last having missed them all day.  Dale and Tina changed out my bottles and tried their best to get me squared away. 

Pit crew at Chantry, Tina and Dale, mile 75.  Photo:  Ethan Shamah

  My pacer Joe Tholt was ready to go but I was feeling quite green.  I was looking for a caffeine tab but couldn't find it and I took an acetaminophen -  after settling on carrying plain water I was finally ready to go.  Hugs for the kids and then Joe and I set off.  Right after we got to the upper parking lot and out of sight of the kids I had to stop —  I bent over and heaved; heaved again and then yet again.  Joe nimbly  danced out of the way of the great lake of vomit flowing his way;  it was clear that everything I had eaten since Chilao was now decorating the tarmac.  “Hey, should we go back and get some water for you?” he asked with real concern.”Nope, I feel better already, lets go” and off we went. I really DID feel a lot better.  I was now 34 minutes ahead of my 2013 pace.

We took it gingerly at first up the Wintercreek Trail and started to jog once it was clear that my stomach had settled.  Hitting the steep section after a couple miles I was sure that someone had steepened the trail, but we continued to move well and passed Tracey and his pacer Angela about halfway up.  It was great to see Larry Gassan again at Deadman’s bench, then on up to top out at the Toll Road.  Finally a chance to make up some lost time.

Soon after we started running down the Toll Road my stomach was gripped with cramps like it was going to split open.  I didn’t even bother mentioning it  to Joe.  Just run through it  I thought,  as the cramps spread to my back.  This isn’t real, there isn’t anything wrong with my back or stomach. Sure enough after a mile or two the pain just went away.  At last we arrived at Idlehour aid station, mile 84,  where my friend Dave Flan and the A/S crew cheered us in.  These great folks got me some dilute ginger ale and some dilute iced broth and i was able to get this down without incident.  Clearing the aid station at 11:36,  I was now still 23 minutes ahead of  my 2013 goal pace.  Joe took point as we ran the steep switchbacks into Idlehour, being as I was still feeling a bit gun shy about these trails through Idlehour— notwithstanding the fact that I have never been able to locate the spot where I fell last year- its a bit of a blank.

Crossing the stream we got a bit spun around due to lack of trail markings  and overgrowth, but we found the trail and headed up the switchbacks towards Sam Merrill.  Looking back we saw lights moving fast; We hit the 89 mile aid station just as Kenneth Ringled and his pacer rolled in after a super fast drive though Idlehour canyon.   Refueling on watermelon and water we cleared the station now just 16 minutes ahead of my goal split.   Kenneth and his pacer left shortly after we did and caught us about a mile down trail just as we were starting the drop down the upper Sam Merrill trail.

Upper Sam Merrill was badly  rutted by the recent rains and littered with loose rocks.  With my shot legs I just didn’t have the strength left to run some of these trashed sections safely so Joe and I slowed down and walked them-  better to finish a bit slower than to break a bone!  We hit the cutover trail to the Mt Lowe railway and trotted down to the Sunset trailhead where I was startled by a large African rhinoceros which fortunately transformed into a couple of large bushes.  The Sunset trail was in similarly bad shape and we took it carefully.  At one point Joe shouted out to watch out for the owl sitting in the trail.  Just as I was telling him to wake up from his dreaming,  the bird took flight!  Into the Millard Canyon A/S at 3:04 we were still 5 minutes ahead of my 2013 pace; Gregory Benson and his pacer came in with lights off and cleared the station as we were still getting water.

Reassured that we were still  on track to goal pace we set off up the fire road and then down the El Prieto trail.   Again it seemed steeper this night than I remembered it! We steadily pushed and with relief we hit the Arroyo.  Settling in to an easy trot we cruised down to the Atadena crest trail and over to Lincoln;  at last there was Loma Alta Park and we were in! 

Totally spent!  Photo:  Ulysses Chan

Hug with my wife Steph.  Photo:  Tina Shamah

Jean was everywhere on race day, Thank you Jean! Photo- Ulysses Chan

My wife and Zack were there at the finish with Dale and Tina and my pal Al, and friends Jean Ho and Nick Nudell.  I was so glad to be done, completely spent, and when they told me my time, 23:14, less than one minute off my 2013 finish time, I got a good laugh.  

Photo:  Ulysses Chan

In hindsight I realize that I had taken in too many calories relative to what I was used to in training;  I ran the last 25 miles pretty much on water after I'd been sick and I really didn't feel a calorie deficit.  The lead on my goal pace that I had built up by mile 67 had evaporated due to nausea and sore legs:

I also think next time I do one of these  I will taper less; although given the trouble I had had with my foot this year  the three week taper that I had done was probably necessary.

When I finally sat down I had trouble getting into the chair.   The guys helped me hobble over to the kitchen tent and after a couple of the world’s greatest cheese burgers I was feeling better.  With some help to get out of the chair we headed home.  

Photo:  Ulysses Chan

After an espresso and a couple diet cokes at home, I weighed myself in at 149lbs, 6 pounds down.  I lay down for a minute and when I woke up two hours later I was amazed to find that I could get out of bed and walk reasonably normally.

I am so grateful to have been able to run this year!  Grateful to my wife and family for their patience with many many hours of PT and training, Dr. Tang for a perfect job screwing me back together and Dr. Kwon for helping me with the PT;  Dale and Tina and Ethan and Zack for an absolutely superb job crewing me all day like an indy 500 pit crew;  To Ken Hamada for convincing me three years ago to try this game again and to Uncle Hal, Nick Nudell and the UMT, Dave Flan and all the many dedicated AC100 volunteers for making this great race what it is. 

I decided not to  enter  AC100  next year but look forward to being a race volunteer in 2016;  I hope to run something earlier in the season maybe with cleaner air and spend a bit more time with my family in the summer months.

Angeles Crest 100 race report: What a difference 22 years makes

My "100 miles in a day" buckle...YAY!

Last weekend I ran the Angeles Crest 100 for the second time after a 22 year hiatus from the race.   The race was everything I had hoped it would be:  Unlike in 1991, this time I ran strong the whole way through and finished uninjured.  The run was ecstatic, a dream come true:  I ran all day and all night long from Wrightwood to Pasadena and I was still running strong as I dropped down off the front range  into the lights of LA.  I fulfilled a 23 year old goal by Buckling with a finish time of 23:13;  and beyond expectations, I placed 7'th overall and won the Bronze Rhino, what other races call the master's division race of 40 and over.

 The week since the race has passed swiftly:  I've gone to work, gotten things done;  I have run and done some recovery walks.  All this is  radically different from the first time I ran this race in 1991 at age 25.  For two days after that race, which I finished in 28:34, I lay on the couch on the ground floor of the two story apartment I shared with my then girlfriend, now wife,  Stephanie, with a pee bottle setting next to the couch.  I had finished, but it was ugly:  I had joints swollen the size of grapefruit and it took me weeks to recover despite having trained hard at 100 miles per week.

This time it was different. What a difference 22 years makes!

But lets start at the beginning.

Last year I volunteered to help Steve Klenk  set up  the finish  area and then headed up to  Chilao to watch the fun and help out.  There I ran into co-race-director Ken Hamada, who asked me where I had been for the last 21 years and why hadn’t I been back?  “Work & family” I replied, and Ken just shook his head and said “Hey, you’re still a young man, you should think about doing this thing while you still can”.   I privately told myself “no way” as I had become too injury prone.  It was all I could do to run 30 miles per week without blowing out a calf.  I headed back down to Pasadena, got some sleep and then headed back to the finish on Sunday morning with my son.   Maybe because I was wearing my ’91 finishers 

in 2012 handing my pal John his finishers shirt

shirt, Steve asked me to be  the finish line greeter (the guy who greets the finishers and gives them their finisher's T-shirts)  and so  I was there when the last three finishers made it in just under the wire before 2:00pm and I cried tears of joy with them.  Run this again? Why not try.  I signed myself up for the 2013 race and started training.  And after a year of learning how to run again from scratch, about minimalist running to save my knees and how to prevent and rehab calf injuries, I found myself on Aug 1 having completed a 6 week training cycle of about 490 miles, tapered and ready to run.

Pre Race Drama:
I took off from work that Thursday before the race so that I could be  leisurely about packing up and get out to Wrightwood on a relaxed schedule --to avoid the stress of having to hurry to pack my family up and get to the medical check-in at Wrightwood on Friday morning.  I’d reserved a triple at the Best Western in Cajon Pass for my family and I-  same hotel Steph and I stayed at in 1991.  In addition, I’d reserved a single for Friday night in case my crew chief  Dale  and his son wanted to crash there.    

We left Pasadena around 5pm and drove up HWY 2 for a last look at the course and to show Steph the positions of the checkpoints.  We stopped at Newcomb’s Ranch restaurant for dinner, just before it closed and thankfully just in time to prevent kids’ meltdowns.  We made it up to  Mt Baden Powell by sunset and I was delighted to show the kids and Steph just how beautiful this place was that I had run just the last Sunday and was going to be running over again in a couple of days.  All was proceeding smoothly on plan and I felt very self-satisfied, if a bit irritable with the kids’ backseat bickering.  We got to the hotel, got our gear moved to the room; went to bed all on schedule.... and then I stared at  the ceiling all night unable to sleep, thinking about the race and work, the kids and everything in between... realizing all the while that if I didn’t sleep I was jeapardising my  race.  Visions of my 1991 slog up the Manzanita Ridge struggling to stay awake weren’t helping matters a bit.  Around 6 am I pulled out my old ipod nano, put on an Eckardt Tolle audio book, and finally started to zonk out.  I awoke around 8 am completely strung out.  Holy crap.

Off to the medical check in.  I clearly recall that in 1991 my blood pressure came in at 150/80 and the EMT who was taking my pulse asked me whether I had actually trained for the race.-- I was THAT nervous.  This year the b.p. was 101/60 even with an elevated pulse of 70 due to the  race jitters, and  the EMT congratulated me on my good health.  I  bought AC100 hats for my crew and said hello to Ken, who was completely exhausted,  and Uncle Hal, then got the hell out of there as the race vibe was making me nervous.   I drove the family back to the hotel for lunch and then the kids hopped in the pool.  I stayed out as a shingles outbreak the week before hadn’t yet cleared up.  Ah middle age!  Dale went off for a mountain ride on his road bike; I left the kids under Steph’s watchful eye and headed off for  the trail briefing.   There, in a standing-room-only crowd, I ran into a few friends I had made on the trail maintenance day.  One guy, a top contender in this years’ race,  asked me how I was doing.   “I feel OK”,  I lied, but then confessed “but I could really use some sleep”.  Putting his arm on my shoulders he replied “Me too,  but don’t worry,  you’ll be OK”.   I thought to myself, maybe, but man I gotta get some sleep tonight or I am just screwed.

Back to the hotel.  I finished my race preparations, laid out my race day clothes and gear in the spare hotel room as Dale had decided to camp at Mormon Rocks.   I talked with Dale and Steph about their roles; Dale’s job was to kick my ass out of aid stations when I got too friendly, Steph’s was to take care of the kids and help them be part of the race.   Then race goals:   While I was targeting Bon’s splits from her 22 hour finish in 2007,  my primary goal was to finish without permanent injury, death or disability;  that I felt I could buckle if I had a good day and if the Trail God smiled on me.   “Whoa! how ‘bout a little positive thinking here?” Dale chided.   “Hey, just sayin’...its a long run.”    

I wanted to chill out so Steph and Dale took the kids out to eat while I made a call to an old ultra friend that I needed to talk to,  and then sat in the dark room trying to collect myself.  Steph brought me back a monstrous take-out linguine;  I ate half and couldn’t finish the rest, I was nervous and in particular  very anxious about getting to sleep due to ...pre-race anxiety;  despite being already tired enough to feel myself coming  unglued -- of course all this is just self fulfilling.    

 At 7pm or so I lay down and Steph tried to get me to sleep by reading the Wikipidia article on the geology of the Grand Canyon.  It just wasn’t working.    My mind was racing and I was utterly frustrated at my inability to settle down despite my exhaustion.   I was looking at the   prospect of blowing a perfect opportunity with all the factors in place for a good run:  Training, cool weather, crew;  but here I was choking on pre-race anxiety.    I cut Steph off at the Vishnu Schist  and started talking about how I felt about the race and a bunch of other stuff.   Steph just listened non judgementally and eventually I settled down feeling cleansed.   She stepped out to look in on the kids and that was the last I remembered until I woke up at 1am. 

As a side note folks,  if you want to run a good ultra,  it helps to choose your spouse well.   I am often amazed at how fantastically lucky I have been in the fact that this woman agreed to marry me 21 years ago.  That people like me manage to be picked by the very best women in the world never ceases to amaze.  Steph’s listening skills  saved me that night, and saved my race.

When I awoke at 1am I felt refreshed and hungry.  I dug the leftover linguine out of the fridge and gobbled it down thinking, “Perfect! I’ll have time to digest this before the race”. Then I lay down again  and gave thanks, but I never quite got back  to sleep.  I’d set my watch alarm for 3am;  I got up ahead of it and got some coffee, ate my ritual pre-race banana and a bottle of Ensure with chia seeds  mixed in for symbolic power, and a pre-race vitamin pack from Succeed.   I met Dale outside as he was starting to  fill up race bottles.

Off to the start. Bathroom lines weren’t too bad and we got a few pre-race pix.  I powered up my GPS a few minutes before the start but it wasn’t locking the satellites, sitting as we were in the shadow of the Blue Ridge.  And then at last,  it was time to run!

Steph and I at the start, waiting for the race to begin

The Run:

I took off relatively fast as I didn’t want to get stuck in the conga-line marching single file up the Blue Ridge.  Up Acorn Trail I ran until the grade steepened and I started walking. As at Leona I found that my uphill walking pace was faster than my compadres’ that were running the grade.  We hit the trail and I steadily marched up.  Sunrise was a spectacular  palette and I momentarily regretted my decision not to carry an iphone or camera, it was so beautiful I teared up.  Up we went and finally I got the GPS to lock.  As expected at this stage in the race I felt fine and was moving well although my heels were hurting.  This had bugged me off and on through the high mileage phase of my running and I had hoped that the rest over the last few days before the race, coupled with hamstring and calf stretches I had been doing,  would allow it to quiet down; but no joy.

I ran through Inspiration Point (mile 9) without stopping and dropped my light with Dale.  He was covering solo as Steph had taken the kids back to get breakfast and pack up the room.  By Vincent Gap (mile 14) the heel pain was surprisingly still bugging me so I decided to switch from the Merrell Ascend Gloves to the Skecher GoBionic Trails for the climb up Mt Baden Powell.  My hope was that the GoBionics in 4mm drop mode would take some stress off the achilles attachments;  this plus the cushier ride I thought might help the heels settle down.  Dale looked askance at me for screwing around with gear like this but he got me fueled up for the long leg from Vincent gap to Islip Saddle (mile 26).

Me, dicking around with my shoes at Vincent Gap; oldest son and my daughter crewing

The climb  up Baden Powell is a long 2800 ft slog up to 9300 feet elevation;  I just relaxed and patiently settled into the hike.   After the race I checked the time -  it took me 1:12 which was  much slower than I had done it in training (1:05).  I saw Larry Gassan up at the Wadron Tree taking photos, and was glad to drop into a run along the ridge from the AC100 highpoint.  I felt fine and was grateful for the long pants I was wearing which kept the buckthorn overgrowing the trail from tearing up my legs.  The high trail follows a runnable contour past Mt. Burnham, Mt. Troop and Mt. Hawkins-  this is a lovely section of trail.  Running along I vaulted over a downed 3’ log - I felt so great.  After a while I developed a mild headache and a cough;  passing the turnoff for Little Jimmy I ran past a line of Asian hikers who all stood aside off the trail;  I was very relieved as I swung north around a ridge and Islip Saddle (mile 25) hued into sight.   I charged down off the ridge, crossed the highway and weighed in at 156lbs,  just 1 pound down.

My whole family was waiting;  I came in right on Suzanne Bon’s split as planned and I downed another Ensure with the symbolic Chia seeds and reloaded the water bottles.  I commented on the fact that my toes were getting a bit banged up in the Skechers-  the toe box is a bit tall in these shoes-  but Dale told me to get my butt on the trail and quit worrying the gear.  Check.   Off I went up Mt Williamson.  I remembered from 1991 that this climb was surprisingly long so I settled myself in for a long climb.  Up and up the sun exposed trail I went and passed a  couple guys, one of whom was having stomach problems.  It was extremely bright out and I was glad to be wearing my long white dress shirt, visor and sunglasses.  At last I crested and dropped down the other side. The trail down off Williamson was breathtaking.  I recall as I ran through a section of granite spires  thinking that it was really a very good thing afterall  that I had left my camera as certainly I would have lost a lot of time snapping shots of all the utterly fantastic scenery. It was just  gorgeous.  

Down to Kratka ridge and across the highway;  up another slope and then contouring along overlooking Hwy 2, I reached Eagles’ Roost (mile 30).  There I met my crew and reloaded.   At this point the race course runs on  highway 2 for about 3 miles due to  an area closure to protect the western yellow spotted frog.  For 0.8 mile the road ascends a gentle grade-  To my surprise I felt fine as I ran up it and made time on the guy up  ahead of me.  Cresting the highpoint I began the 2 mile downslope run.  I stopped a couple times to loosen the laces in my right shoe.  To keep my toes from banging the front of Skechers I had had  to tighten the laces but  on the right foot, the tendons on the top of my foot were beginning to get irritated.  Finally I reached the turnoff to Buckhorn camp and picked up the Burkhardt Trail. It was fabulous and as I descended into Cooper Canyon it became wooded and shady.   Crossing the creek and contouring along the stream the trail finally started to ascend.  

At this point I started to notice that my lungs were really sore and I was having a bit of trouble catching my breath.  By the time I reached the PCT which led up out of Cooper Canyon I was not feeling well at all, it really hurt to inhale and I was starved for air.  Nothing fun about that! I saw on my GPS that the elevation was around 5700 feet and I just couldn’t remember the elevation at Cloudburst Summit -  was it 7800 ft?   Man, did I have to climb up 2000 ft in this heat with my lungs this sore?  As I slogged up the grade in my misery, Tia passed me running as light as a wood elf on a spring morning in the Shire.  I remember thinking, "How can anyone look so fresh and be so gawdarned tough?"  I kept slogging and finally, Cloudburst Summit hewed into sight and thank God, it was only at 7000 ft, not 7800ft as I had misremembered.  My brother had hiked down a bit and asked what I needed-  “A complete overhaul” I replied but I couldn’t be more specific than that...the way I was feeling, unable to catch my breath or inhale deeply, I was having a  hard time seeing how I was going to make it to Pasadena, given that I was only 1/3 of the way into the race!  I was starting to think that a drop was inevitable.  I just had no power.

Running into Cloudburst Summit looking a whole lot better than I felt

As I rounded into the aid station (mile 37.5) the whole crew was there.  Dale washed my head down with ice water and rubbed it into my hair and shirt, it felt fantastic.  “I have two problems guys” I announced, “My feet are killing me but the big problem is that I just can’t catch my breath”.  I asked for an acetaminophen and a caffein tablet to deal with the foot pain; and thinking that the breathing problem might be due to smog, I asked for 500mgs of vitamin C and 400 iu of vitamin E.  “Thats all I can do for the lungs I guess”.  My brother mused “Wish we had some guaifenesin, that might help”.  Wait!  I had tossed a bottle of guaifenesin tablets - an over-the-counter expectorate, designed to loosen up mucous in the lungs-  into my first aid kit for the race, as I had had a dry cough the week before the race! My eldest son dug the bottle out and Joe directed me to take 2 tablets.  I sat down, took the legs off my Columbia pants as the trail for the next 20 miles was clear- and switched out the Skechers for my Merrell Ascend Gloves.   Up and out of the aid station I crossed the highway and started in on the gentle 5 mile descent to Three Points. 

Within a couple miles I was hacking out a lot of phlegm and feeling better.  While my feet still hurt, the toes weren’t being banged and the top of my feet felt fine in the Merrells.  I caught up with one fella who  was working through a rough patch and after making sure he didn’t need anything, I carried on.  I was feeling terrific.  I caught one more guy just before coming into Three Points (mile 42.7) and was excited to meet my crew as well as a co-worker,  Jonathan, who had ridden his motorcycle up for the day.  I was feeling great and was just amazed at the fact that I had come back from the death spiral I felt I was in at Cloudburst Summit.  There I had felt ready for a pine box;  here I felt that I had been resurrected.  Whether it was the lower elevation, the guaifenesin or what, I was back in the race.

Dale soaking me down with ice water at Three-Points. 

Heading out of Three-Points feeling strong

After Dale soaked my head with ice water again   I   reloaded,  and trotted out of the aid station with Brad, one of the friends I had made on the AC  trail maintenance crew.  Together we tore down the gentle grade to Sulphur Springs, chatting about our pace targets and how fun it was to be running so fast as we reeled in a couple more guys.  We were targeting the same race splits, although I told him “I’m just focussing on one section at a time, and I’ll let the Trail God sort out what to do with it”.  Hitting the blacktop heading to Mt Hillyer we caught  up with Tia.  Soon after,  I parted company from the two of them as I was feeling strong on the uphill.

As I reached Rosenita Saddle (mile 49) the aid station crew called out my name and one checkpoint guy asked, “So, did you really do this the last time in 1991?” “Yep,  its been a long time coming, I have some unfinished business!”  He laughed knowingly, told me I was looking strong and helped me with my bottles -- and off I ran to the summit pitch.

Cresting out, I  dropped down  into the weird managerie of  twisted rock formations that is  Horseflats, one of the top bouldering sites anywhere.  It was like mogul skiing, absolutely surreal and fantastic.  I’d explored this area last summer looking for good climbing sites for my son’s boy scout troop.  I passed a group of climbers and then rounded a corner and much to my surprise passed Jorge.  “You need anything?” I asked.  “Just a new pair of legs” the champion called back.  I ran on, sobered by the reminder that the AC course can level even the greatest runners.  Tearing on down the trail I passed my boys’ favorite rappelling spot, Romeo Void, and  I started to notice that the right IT band was getting painful.  This structure had blown up in 1991, and produced ultimately such an excruciating pain that I was reduced to a walk for the last 35 miles of the run.  My right calf also gave me a couple electric jolts as I cruised down this section.  I took a calcium carbonate chewable and a salt stick capsule and ran on.  I hit the road and jogged into Chilao, Mile 52.8,  at 4:15, just a few minutes off Bon’s splits. My weight was 2 pounds down-  just right.  Dale soaked my head with ice water again, popped open a can of Progresso chicken & rice soup which I drank cold.   I sat down to put the legs back on my Columbia pants in anticipation of the poodle dog bush overgrowing the trail between Chilao and Charleton.  I popped an acetaminophen and a caffeine tablet,  and  off   I went.  

While I was screwing around with all this I think Tia and her pacer passed me.   I cruised to Charleton and hit the ridge overlooking shortcut  far below with Mt Wilson off in the distance.  Down the sandy freefall I ran, being careful to rein in it.  My IT band was hurting and I very clearly recalled bombing down this ridge trail in 1991 with my pal Winston, stoned on endorphins, and destroying my quads and IT band in the process.  Finally  the trail bottomed out and I ran along the stream at the canyon bottom being careful to breath through my mouth.  Again, ghosts of the past:  In 1991 as Winston and I crossed the stream I inhaled a fly and proceeded to puke my guts out all over Winston’s shoes.  Ah, where do we find such friends?   That barf of undigested mango-plex probably saved my water-logged self that day (I’d been gaining weight during the race in 1991) but I was in no mind to repeat that unpleasant experience.  With some relief I started the uphill walk to Shortcut Saddle, congratulating myself that I had run the gauntlet that is Shortcut without puking this time.

Heading into Shortcut

Arriving at Shortcut  Saddle (Mile 59.3) my crew gave me one more Ensure and I  ate a popsicle.  At this point the thought of Gu Brew and Gu fizzy tablets was making me sick  so I asked for  a Coke and switched to filling my bottles with  diluted coke plus salt.  I drank down an Ensure and  Dale told me to get after it;   time to show some grit and get ‘er done.  Check.  I lurched into motion,   feeling like I had zombie legs with no knees, crossed the highway and started the long 5 mile drop down the fireroad to the West Fork -  but my legs were just shot!  Jose and his pacer quickly overhauled me and I just couldn’t respond.  The miles wended away on the downhill  and I marveled at the late afternoon beauty of the canyon I was dropping into.  There wasn’t a soul in sight.  I hit the stream crossing looking forward to the hike up to Newcomb’s Saddle to rest the quads.  I picked up steam and walked fast up the 2.5  mile grade, and towards the top I passed a young runner who was cashed after having run Hardrock  three weeks before.  In short order I  topped out and started running the trail into the check point.  It was still light and my legs were back-  I felt solid!  The guys at the checkpoint (mile 68) told me I was in the top ten at that point and one of the firefighters smiled and said “go get ‘em-  old guys rule!”  I drank some broth and some coke, got out my light and headed down into Santa Anita Canyon with the sun setting and the sky taking on the colors of  a rare steak.  It was gorgeous.   I couldn’t believe I’d reached Santa Anita canyon in the daylight.

At Newcomb's, photo by Gerry Walsh (I believe), by UAV

As I hit the technical trail I felt myself picking up strength and speed and my legs felt recharged.  As the 7 miles down into Chantry progressed, It occurred to me that while I was still hurting, the pain  just didn’t seem to matter and while I was running along precipices my every footfall was perfectly placed like I was being guided down the canyon in the dark.  I felt supercharged and in a flow state like I haven’t experienced in some years, and it was heartbreakingly magnificent.

I hit the climb up into the checkpoint at Chantry, Mile 74.55,  and there was my wife Steph and family, Dale,  my brother Joel, Joe my pacer,  and Richard and Rod, two pals from my son’s scout troop.  Hugs all around and then my 5 year old son gave me a cup of soup to drink while my 7 year old daughter went to get me a coke.  Thank you God, life doesn’t get better than this,  I thought. Dale helped me get changed into a dry capilene shirt; I donned a running pack to carry  a windbreaker, a warm hat and gloves and a couple of spare lights; more hugs and then off Joe and I  went into the night to the Upper Wintercreek trailhead.  I left the checkpoint at 9:34pm leaving over 7 hours to buckle.   I put it out of my mind but it was clear at this point that provided I didn’t blow up I could buckle.  

Hitting the trail with  Joe, the best pacer ever, out of Chantry

Brad and his pacer Ryan had caught me while I was getting fixed up at Chantry and had left the checkpoint ahead of me. Joe and I let them go, they were moving well, and we settled into an easy run/walk up the Wintercreek trail, making good time until we hit Hoegees.  At this point the trail leaves the stream and heads more aggressively up towards the toll road for a 2500 ft climb.  We settled into a steady powerwalk and slowly made time, catching another runner about midway up. As we neared the top I took another caffeine tablet and an acetaminophen thinking I would need these as we approached the witching hour;  soon we reached the Winton bypass. I was extremely grateful for the AC100 crews that put this in 1999.  I clearly recall the struggle I had in 1991 to climb the ridge trail, at 16% grade,  in the witching hours, as my strength and will were at their lowest ebb.   It had been the most difficult thing I had ever done in my young life up to that point.

Finally we hit the toll road, about mile 80, catching Brad and Ryan at the same  time.  After greetings and mutual checking in to make sure everyone was OK, Joe and I took off down the toll road and made good time cruising the 10% downgrade hitting  the Idlehour checkpoint (mile 84) just shy of midnight.  Reloading on Coke, we headed into the single track for the initial 1/2 mile uphill grade,   crested the ridge and began  the steep drop into Idlehour.  Like a runaway train we cruised the single track,  a free fall approaching 15-20% downslope at times, and caught Jose and his pacer.   Feeling  strong we hit the canyon bottom and started running the trail upstream.  Seeing a glow in the woods ahead we rounded a corner and heard “Pete! is that you!”   Backlit by the homey glow of a campfire three figures emerged from the woods who turned out to be none other than my compadres Al, Troy and Joel from  work-  these good friends had hiked in on Saturday to camp at Idlehour to watch the race!  “You look great Pete! How are you feeling?”  “I feeling F&*^ing great”  I replied.  “Thanks for coming out to see this guys-  gotta run!” and off we went.

Joe and I made good time up canyon and started the steep switchbacks on the west slope.  Periodically Joe reminded me to drink and eat.   Topping out we hit the downhill to the creek and ducked under the big log that Angela and I had dug out on trail day so we didn’t have to duck down too far.  Across the creek and we began the 2 mile climb up to Sam Merrill checkpoint (mile 89.25).   Rolling in there we reloaded on coke and Gu, and broke out the spare lights for the descent down Sam Merrill. 

I took point heading into the Sam Merrill single track.  After a mile or so contouring around to the west the trail rounds a point and descends kamakaze style down the front face to Echo Mountain.  To both our surprise I gave Joe his money’s worth as we raced down the single track, trying  hard not to look at the spectacular view of the  LA basin set before us lest I miss a switchback and take the fast way down.  I felt so strong cruising down the face!  It  didn’t even bother me when I kicked a rock good and hard and I  felt the bigtoe nail lift.  Just keep on running.

Reaching Echo Mountain we started up the gentle grade towards   the Mt Lowe railway bed and to my joy I found I was still able to run this.  Then to the Sunset Trail and another kamikaze descent into Millard Canyon.  Running through overgrown grass I was once again glad to be wearing long pants and a long shirt and it occurred to me it was getting hard to see the trail with the overgrowth blocking the flashlight beam.   As were were running the final descent into Millard my watch alarm went off -  3:02am -- I hadn’t reset it from Saturday morning-  and for the first time, doing the math,  I really believed we could make it in before the 24 hour cut-off.   Into the checkpoint (mile 95.8) at 3:09 and Joe pulled out a laminated card he’d made and said “Pete,  the cutoff time to leave here and still buckle is 4am. You could walk it in from here if you had to and still make it”.   I believed him but still feared what could happen on the El Prieto.  The last time I’d been in El Prieto it was on a mountain bike with my oldest son;  he had wanted to see the route and so I obliged and  we had rerouted our return on a ride up Brown Mountain from the Arroyo.  All had been well until I found myself flying ass-end over tea-kettle, somehow jumping clear as my bike tumbled downslope, and I’d landed on the front tire bending it pretty severely.  But on this night, with Joe in the lead we safely retraced that route moving surely, and I found myself thinking, “...this ain’t so bad!”  Soon we saw lights below and it became clear we were overtaking another runner.  We encountered a race official who said something about destroyed course markings, but we pressed on without any trouble.  Hitting the pavement Joe started to take off and I imagined myself on a tether being dragged by him;  we hit the cut path out of the Arroyo over to Altadena Drive and Lincoln.  I couldn’t believe it, we had done it!  Rounding a corner we cruised along in front of Loma Alta Park until an official waived us in and there it was-- the finish line!  We ran it in and oh my God, we had done it, 23:13, I had buckled, and there was Steph running up to hug me, and then  there was Dale and Joe and Rod.    

Photo:  From AC100 website

With my wife Steph at the finish...Thank you!

With my great friend Dale at the finish, best crew chief ever

I’m deeply moved as I write this.  Its hard to describe the elation I felt that morning and feel now. To have experienced the grace of running all day and all night with power, to have felt myself growing stronger as the run progressed, was a mind blowing, ecstatic experience.  My language fails me when I try to describe it and I just start laughing and tears well up.  A friend of mind who also ran well confessed to the same feeling so I am sure I am not alone in this.  

My friends and family came out and supported me whole heartedly and I am so grateful.  Dozens of people followed my run on facebook and the AC100 live site and as one friend put it on Facebook during the race,  "... probably more people than Pete knows are out there propagating positive waves".      I am so grateful to my crew Chief Dale who busted his ass all day to help me; to Joe for pacing and keeping me fed, hydrated and safe through the night; to my wife Steph for leapfrogging  me across the whole San Gabriel range to not only support me but to enable our kids to do so, to my children for their support; to my brother Joel, friends Richard and Rod, Al, Troy, Joel and Jonathan for coming out to show their support-  thank you all! And thank you to all the AC100 staff and volunteers...an amazing group of people that made the whole thing possible.

 After chatting a  bit at the finish and putting on some dry clothes, I went to the tent where my kids were sleeping and tried to get some shut-eye before sun-up.  I couldn’t sleep because I just hurt too badly.  After sunrise I got up and had omelettes with my son and my brother, we packed up and chilled out and then returned for the awards ceremony.  Someone asked me if I’d be running next year.  I told him I needed a decent interval to think about it.

The family vote was unanimous.  I signed up for the 2014 race on Tuesday.

_________________________
Appendix 1:  Race nutitrion and meds


I am adding a few notes before I forget on what I ate and drank during the race and what meds I used and why.

What I ate and drank:

Friday night-  Linguine and to bed at 8pm;

Saturday:

• Pre-race:
• Woke at 1am and finished half the linguine dinner left over from Friday night.
• 3am:  1 bottle of Ensure-plus (350Cal version) with a tablespoon of chia seeds and a tablespoon of nutritional yeast mixed in  (it worked at Leona Divide and worked at AC100); 
• Succeed pre-race vitamin pack.
•  Drank Succeed Clip 2 until the race.
• Race drinks  & electrolytes:
• I carried typically 1x 21oz bottle of Gu Brew, one bottle of ice water for spraying my head and shoulders;  and 1-2 bottle of water with Gu fizz tablets- electrolytes but no sugar depending on the segment mileage. This regimen lasted up to mile 60 after which I switched out the Gu products for dilute Coke w/ salt.  I typically drank 2 bottles every hour or so.  I did NOT carry or drink Clip-2 during the race outside of checkpoints.  It tends to foam up when carried/shaken and fill my stomach with suds until I blerp it up.
• Weigh-ins:  I was 1 pound down at Vincent Gap (25 miles), 2 pounds down at Chilao, and 2 pounds down at Chantry.  This is just about right.  I didn't pee much but I did pee a bit every 2-3 hours  throughout the day.
• Electrolytes:  Typically took 1 S-cap or 1 Salt Stick cap every hour during the day, to supplement the fizz tabs which are a bit light on sodium (only 300mg).  The electrolyte caps are keyed to my drinking unless I feel muscle twinges.  
• One three occasions that I recall I took 1 tums chewable calcium carbonate antacid:  Once during the Baden Powell- Islip Saddle leg;  once at Horseflats, once rolling down the north side of Shortcut, all due to concerns over muscle tightness or incipient cramping.  I would typically take these with a salt stick cap  which has Ca and Mg, to be on the safe side.
• Food & supplements/meds:  Virtually all liquid.
• Drank 1 bottle of ensure-plus (350 cal) with  chia seeds at mile 25
• At Mile 37 Cloudburst Summit, I took one 200 mg caffiene tab, one acetaminophen tablet, 2 x 400mg guaifenesin tablets for lung congestion.  Also drank a cup of Clip-2 and sone briny cranberry juice.  500 mg chewable vitamin C and 400 iu of vitamin E in an attempt to address the lung inflammation I was experiencing due possibly to smog.
• Mile 42, Three-Points:  I ate  half a Cliff bar and a Gu.
• At Chilao (Mile 52) - 1 can of Progressso Chicken & rice soup, drunk cold;  plus one Ensure.  One acetaminophen and one guaifenesin tablet.  500 mg vitamin C.
• Shortcut:  one popsickle, one Ensure-250; stopped taking electrolyte fizz tablets and Gu Brew.  Switched to drinking  a mix of 1 part coke, 2 parts water, plus 1/4 tsp salt into 21 oz bottle for the rest of the race:  No more fake-fruit-flavored beverages.
• Newcomb:  Mile 67- More soup, some banana;  1 acetaminophen & 1 caffeine tab
• Chantry, Mile 75:  Can of soup;  1 bottle of ensure; coke.
• Top of Mt Wilson climb, Mile 80, 1 acetaminophen, 1 caffeine tab
• Sam Merrill,   mile 89, 1 Gu, 1 acetaminophen & 1 caffeine tab

Notes on the OTC meds:  Disclaimer-  Every runner needs to make his/her own informed choice as the whether and what meds to use,  I do not recommend what I did here summarized below, I simply state it as "this is what I did and this was the result".

Caffeine:  I took this  to rev myself up when I was having breathing difficulty during the day section and experiencing low energy and foot pain; then I took one tab roughly every 3-4 hours starting at sundown to stay alert in the night sections.  I took less caffeine in the race than I typically drink as coffee during a workday.  The caffeine definitely seemed to help me and I never struggled with wakefulness as I had in 1991.  Note that I did test the caffeine tablets in training to be certain that my stomach could tolerate them.

Guaifenisen:  As noted in my race report, I took this over the counter expectorant at Cloudburst Summit because my lungs were clogged and I was having a hard time catching my breath, my lungs hurt due to smog or pollen or the high altitude segment over 9000 ft Mt. Baden Powell or whatever.  It seemed to work since within 20-30 minutes of taking the guafenesin I coughed up a lot of phlegm and started feeling better.  I took one more guaifenisen at Chilao before entering the poodle dog overgrown section.

Why did I  take acetaminophen (aka tylenol)?

First:   I carried no  NSAIDs such as ibuprofen and there was none in my crew first aid kit.   I know that NSAIDs are highly dangerous due to their role in magnifying the effect of ADH and contributing to hyponatremia and rhabdomyolysis.   Acetaminophen is not an NSAID contrary to what some recent books and articles on  ultrarunning state.    In fact, research has been done which specifically exonerates acetaminophen from contributing to hyponatremia  (for example see the guidelines here:  http://runrocknroll.competitor.com/medical/do-the-salt ) and furthermore, recent research suggests that acetaminophen may have a protective effect against Rhabdo: (http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20133658;  http://www.mc.vanderbilt.edu/reporter/index.html?ID=8223).  So I carried a few acetaminophen tablets in my running pack and in the crew kit, deeming it as a safer analgesic if I needed one.  Because my feet were hurting from mile 13 through Mile 37, I took one, not two, as a trial.  My feet stopped hurting, or rather, the hurt in my feet stopped bothering me and thereby affecting my demeanor and my gait.  So I stuck with it because it seemed to be working.  I stayed below the max dose (2 tabs every 6 hours, max 8 tabs in 24 hrs)  by taking no more than 1 tab every 3-4 hrs;  total of 5 tabs during the race.   Exceeding the max dose of acetaminphen is a bad idea due to the danger of liver damage.  

Appendix 2:  Splits