What: Virigil Crest 100 Ultra
When: Sept 11, 2021
Where: Virgil NY
Goals: Finish
Time: 33 hours and 43 minutes
Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/5950781549
The Virgil Crest Ultras is a series of races put on by Red Newt Racing. Unfortunately, the race had gone dormant for the past few years. I had read some race reports about it several years ago and it had been on my radar, so I was upset when I saw it stop running. I had planned to do it, but my goal for the past 7 years has been qualifying for the Western States 100, and VC was not a qualifier, and I don’t have it in me to run multiple 100s every year. But this year things came together. Because of the pandemic, qualifiers for WS were good for two years, so my Pinhoti finish carried over. Without the need for a qualifier I could choose any 100 I wanted, and then I saw Virgil Crest was back. A rugged 100 miler in upstate NY that the race director branded as being more runnanable than any other 100 miler in the Northeast with this type of vertical profile.
Not really
The race director had arranged with Greek Peak ski area that we could camp and car camp in their parking lot the night before the race, which was great. I arrived to the bib pickup and managed to park my car pretty close to the start finish and got in line for bib pickup. I got bib number 69!(https://i.imgur.com/87bAjPC.jpg) I then hit up the ski area bar / restaurant for dinner. I had a pretty tasty chicken finger wrap and some beers, and chatted with some other runners. I went back to my car and prepped for the evening. I walked around the lot, and decided that I liked my current spot for race day and decided not to move my car. I put up my window blockers and settled in to watch some TV on my phone. I then went back to the ski lodge to brush my teeth before bed.
I didn’t sleep super well, I wound up waking up around an hour before my alarm and couldn’t go back to sleep. I made some oatmeal, prepared myself and headed to the line.
I lined up next to Akira and his buddy. There was a pretty good crowd, maybe nearly 200 runners between 100 mile, 100k, and 50 mile runners. The course ran maybe 100 yards along the base of the ski area before taking a sharp left to head straight up a downhill mountain biking trail. Steeply downhill. It gained at least 700 feet, averaging I think 20% at least. We crested the top and then sort of meandered down the slope a bit before turning back into the woods and climbing back near the top (pic of sunrise https://i.imgur.com/CckvPcQ.jpg). There were some muddy trails through the course, for about two miles leading up to the first aid, there were mud pits where you had to be careful not to slip. They could mostly be avoided or stepped through carefully and I managed to keep my feet dry. We hit the first aid (JK crossing) about 6.7 miles in. I finished the water in my bottle, drank some tail wind and coke, and went out for the 4 miles loop that would bring me back the same aid. The loop was a climb of about 400 ft and two miles, and then a more or less equal descent. Quick in and out of the aid station, and I started the climb out. This was a moderate climb out, and then a long and low angle descent on some very hard and rocky access roads (the kind of roads you’d probably need a vehicle with high clearance to drive on). Then we took a sharp right onto a steep single track descent. The trails weren’t super duper technical, but they were still east coast trails. This descent took some focus to keep foot placement good and avoid slipping. When we got to the bottom, there was a quick turn down a road before heading right back up a very steep ski slope. The initial bit was probably even steeper than the first climb, and then it got a little more moderate, but was still pretty long. At this point the sun had come up and I could feel it on my back. The weather forecast had been for low 70s, but it definitely felt hotter in the direct sunlight. I put the hood up on my hoodie (lightweight sun hoodie), and power hiked along. Finally reached the top, and then followed ski area access roads back down to the start finish.
Since I was crewing myself from my car I headed over to take care of usual crew type ultra business. I drank a boost shake and some powerade (had a cooler packed with ice, so stuff was nice and cold), loaded some cream for chafing and other accessories into my waist band and then headed back to the start finish. After a brief trip to the bathroom, I gathered myself and headed out the way I came.
The start of the out and back headed up the same access roads we came down at the end of loop. Near the top we diverted taking a left into the woods. Here is where I started to question Ian’s (the race director) definition of runnable. Ian brands this race as being much more runnable than any other northeast race with with this amount of elevation. And while the trails in this section were smoother than most north east trails, I still would have been surprised if anyone truly “ran.” There were incredibly tight and steep switch backs, with a lot of the trail being off camber or somewhat tricky to follow (I never got lost, but I did have to stop once or twice just to gut check the directions). After the steep downhill there was a wide stream crossing which I carefully picked my way across to avoid getting my feet wet. Then we turned onto a road. Here I latched on to two guys who were running together, one doing the 50 and the other doing the 100, both with experience at the previous versions of the race. We power hiked pretty quickly up a long road before turning into the woods again. These guys were moving pretty quickly, but I was able to run with them for the most part, and the chatting kept my mind busy. It felt like a pretty long ways to the next aid. The trail wound along next to and around a stream, so there were lots of short dips and climbs, and turns. Finally one last climb and we made it to the “gravel pit” aid station. I think I manage to snag a pierogi or two here, along with some coke and water before heading out for the push to the turn around.
It was a pretty quick jaunt to the turn around. Probably the shortest distance between aids. I left gravel pit ahead of the two dudes. I was definitely having to work too hard to stay with them, but I moved a lot faster through the aid. The course to the turnaround was about half easy single track and then half forest / dirt road. The turnaround aid had a real bathroom which was great. Then I washed my hands and face to freshen up, and hit the aid table. Grazed on some snacks here and headed back out.
Now running the out and back, I’d get to see runners I was ahead of. On the way out, I got to see the fast people blazing by. Now I might get to see some folks I separated from earlier in the race. I saw some familiar faces from the start and who I ran with along the course. I still hadn’t seen Akira for awhile, and didn’t until I got into the gravel pit aid, where he was at the same time, but unfortunately headed in the outbound direction. I learned he had been part of a group that had gotten lost, and had run about an extra 7 miles of the trail. Now he and his group were well behind. Really a bummer. I wished him good luck before continuing back towards the start finish. More of the winding rolling single track and finally made my way to the long straight road I had hiked up, but now I could actually jog on the way down. Felt great to move and see some “low” numbers on my watch for a bit. I got caught here by the two guys I had originally left ahead of at the gravel pit aid and it was great to have some company again. We crossed the stream and began the hellacious climb back to the access road on the ski area that would bring us to the start finish. What was a terrible descent nearly twenty miles early now became a painful climb. Low grip dirt and mud, steep inclines, all the way up. Finally I reached the turn onto the road and jogged the last mile into the aid.
I headed back to my car once again, to do my self-crew type duties. I drank a boost and some orage powerade (a superior flavor), and then a birch beer.
I had now seen the full course and knew what I was in for. During this loop I started making plans for the rest of the race. 35+ miles in, and I had a pretty good pace and felt decent. I was still on sub 30 hour pace at this point. I know I have a lot of trouble in the night with staying awake and keeping up speed. Here I really started to get hopeful I could get in a nap at some point. My plan was to get through this loop and the next loop and then hopefully nap before the out and back. My hope was that I would eat some darkness while also recuperating a bit. I didn’t really care about my time so much as keeping in a good mood. I moved well up the very steep initial climb and through the course. Getting in to JK crossing the second time it was getting dark and aid station volunteers were asking everyone if they had headlamps. I had my smaller light in my pack and broke it out. This one was the one I planned to use exactly at this time, and I’d swap out for a larger lamp at my car to use for the majority of the night. I made it back to the car without issue and ran through my crew procedures again. I stowed my small headlamp in my waistbelt as a back up and broke out my larger headlamp. I also drank another shake and some more powerade. The last loop had been pretty warm and I was thirsty. I also switched shoes here. My hokas had been comfortable to start but had started to dig into the underside of my malleolus bones on both ankles, and had to be exchanged. I went next to my New Balance KOMs. Trusty shoes, but I had never worn them for more than maybe 25 miles at a stretch.
Here the wheels started to come off. I left the aid station alone and climbed up the steep incline in the dark. Trudging along, I wound through the single track trails in the woods and along the fire roads that made up the course. I was starting to slow down, but my nap was still potentially in the cards. I kept calculating new estimates on when I’d get back to the car, and how long I could afford to sleep. At one point I came across a stone bench. I sat down on it and hung my head, maybe falling asleep for a minute. I got back up and kept moving. I wasn’t running anymore. I was walking and hiking. I could make some motion that was a simulacrum of running, and barely. I was getting more and more tired. I found a tree that had a thick root protruding from the stump. I sat down and leaned against the tree. I fell asleep. Maybe for a minute, maybe for fifteen. I woke up feeling cold. I got up and kept moving again. I had been alone in the dark for hours now. Finally someone came up behind me. A long haired, wild spirited runner in a kilt.
I had passed him on the trail a few times before, at various out and back sections. I connected with him because we were both part of the same drinking / running club, the hash house harriers. He had been ahead of me but now was coming up. We starting talking and he explained he had blown up his ankle, and had spent over an hour of downtime, thinking he was going to drop, before eventually deciding that he would rather suffer through 50 miles than give up on the race. I was happy for the company. Having someone to talk to breathed life back into me. I wasn’t falling asleep standing up anymore. We ran together in back to JK crossing (he caught me on the loop), and then we came back to the start finish together, and planned to leave together as well. I went to my car, gathered myself and then went and found my new friend. He wanted to take a little more time at the aid to gather himself and rest up before preparing for the next leg. I was happy to loiter a bit as well. Finally we readied ourselves and headed back out again. My nap wasn’t happening, having company was more important, and I was probably too far behind on time at this point to take one anyway.
What had been a demanding descent at 15 miles in and in the daylight became incredibly tough after 65 miles, and in the dark. We picked our way carefully down the steep, off camber trails, managing not to fall. Then we crossed the stream. My companion was wearing five fingers so sloshed right through, meanwhile I carefully stepped rock to rock to keep my feet dry. Across the river and up on to the road. We power hiked as best we could up the road section, me trying to keep up with Jarod, who was moving quite faster than me despite his ankle. I managed to stay awake through this part and then we got into the woods. Here I really struggled. I would blink. My eyes would hesitate. They would stay shut longer than a blink should last. They’d reopen after several steps, and I’d have slowed down. Jarod tried to keep me moving but I was slow. Sleep deprivation was starting to get to me. I saw an orange kitten sitting in the trail. It wasn’t actually there. Finally Jarod had to give up on me. I didn’t blame him. I was too slow. Too tired. We parted ways, and he said he hoped to see me again during the race. I made it through gravel pit. I think I ate perogies. I was still in the dark, still having trouble staying awake. I woke up in the middle of a pile of tree branches, still standing and trying to fight my way through them, stumbling through, like a poorly programmed computer character trying to push its way through in-game objects. I backed up and saw I feel asleep while walking and missed a turn. The branches I had found myself in had been tossed just after the flags to really drive home the point that that was the incorrect trail. Dawn was getting close now, I was almost to the turn around. The sun came out and I reached the turn around point. Hope lake. I now only had the return trip, and the final loop, which would be abbreviated to keep the course closer to 100 miles rather than 104. The race seemed doable now. I had made it through the night, and now had 10ish hours to finish these final 20some miles.
I started back towards the start finish. I leap-frogged with a couple other runners, and averted my eyes as a woman was using the restroom barely off trail (I talked with her and her pacer at dinner after her race, her pacer was funny she asked why I was talkative at the aid but not when I passed them and I was like ‘I was trying to avert my eyes and give her some privacy’). I made it back to the start finish, changed shoes a final time due to malleolus issues, and started back out for my last lap.
Finally, the last loop, and an abbreviated one two. Instead of hitting JK crossing twice, we’d skip the four mile loop that would normally loop back to the aid. I departed the start/finish area. It was day light now, so I had stashed all my lights. I hiked up this climb for the last time. I was moving slowly. It was as if my body wasn’t yet ready for the final push. I found flat ground, but even jogging wouldn’t happen. Trying to run only resulted in some sort of shuffle that was no faster than just walking quickly. With every downhill undulation, I’d try to run again, but to no avail. I caught up to a woman from Connecticut and we talked a bit. She was also a listener of the CULTRA podcast. Was nice to have company again. We eventually bunched up with a third runner and then spread out again. I made my way into JK crossing. Now I just had five miles left. My legs started to wake up and I started to move again. On the single track descent before the last ski slope climb I found some more people. I caught up with Jarod. He had slowed down again, his ankle catching up with him, along with some serious chafing issues. I ran a bit with him and his pacer working are way along until we hit the final climb. I was ready to be done, and I put my head down and went for it. I left Jarod and his pacer behind, moving much faster on this uphill. I powered up over the climb, and back to the final descent. I could run again, gravity assisting my way back down to the finish arch. Finally, I crossed the line. 33 hours and 43 minutes after I started.
Pic of swag and all my buckles together: https://i.imgur.com/6v2EX5V.jpg https://i.imgur.com/DYjOhkS.jpg