Good races are not hard to find, but truly special ones are far and few between. Sure, there are plenty of fun and well organized running events out there. There are events that hedge more on their history and lore to drive the race experience, rather than the experience in and of itself. But, once in a blue moon you find an event, sometimes by accident, that ends up being the diamond in the rough we all hope to find.
I wholeheartedly believe that Brandon and Heather Wilson's Graveyard 100 is such an event. I think great race experiences comes down to the elements of challenge, course beauty, creativity, and race support. All too common these days is the culture of seemingly valuing the bling and swag of an event more than the personal journey that transpires between the start and finish lines. I totally get it if people are all about cool medals, chip timing, aid every two miles, and live runner tracking, but sometimes it's refreshing to see an event that values the "test" of what running a 100 miler is, and not all the glitz. If you want to voyage into the unknown, where the reward is in the miles in between, by all means the Graveyard 100 is for you.
The Graveyard 100 is not meant to be an easy race to finish. Many ultras, not that it is a bad thing, now cater to runners to ensure nearly everyone finishes. I've even witnessed established older ultras adding more aid and tweaking logistics to make it easier for runners. Don't get me wrong, but isn't one of the alluring factors of an ultra supposed to be that it isn't easy? And yet, some people seemingly have the attitude of wanting to do something hard, but in the easiest way possible. Again, there's nothing wrong with that, but one reason the Graveyard 100 is special is because it is not that kind of race.
I like that regardless if you are an elite, back of the packer, or prior champion, there is no certainty you will finish this race. It all comes down to risk versus reward, and in that sense the Graveyard 100 offers some incredible rewards. I think if you ask any person, myself included, how they felt when presented their Graveyard buckle, they would say with a tired satisfied smile, it was well worth it.
I love that Graveyard is the hardest "easy" 100 miler you will likely encounter. People see the flat elevation profile and say "piece of cake!". Crewed runners see that they can receive aid from their crews every 4-9 miles at water stops, and think "this shouldn't be too bad". There are no big climbs, no mountains above 10,000 feet, no technical rocky sections or river crossings, and yet the percentage of people who drop is higher than at most "harder" one hundreds. Why is that you wonder? For those that have been on the course, well, you know the answer.
This race is a crucible in numerous capacities. It will test your mind, and for some it will torment their mind. You will start at the north end of Currituck, see sunrise as you pass Currituck sound to your right, and run through small coastal towns like Corolla and Duck. You'll think "this isn't too bad". Then as your legs start to experience the initial onsets of fatigue you will pass through Kitty Hawk and Nags Head. You can see miles down the road and miles behind you. This is usually when it hits you that this is going to be tougher than you thought. Runners ahead fade into nothing more than little dots on the horizon and you'll swear those mile post signs can't be accurate. But, they are.
After 45 miles you will exit the creature comforts of society and begin your adventure into the land of dunes. This is where the isolation begins. You will pass the Bodie Island lighthouse to your right, cross over the iconic 2.5 mile long leviathan that is the Bonner Bridge, and into Pea Island. After this, you are in the second half of the race, but the hardest is yet to come. You'll see mirages on the road that look like shiny wet spots, but as you continue on you'll see nothing but more road. Depending on the year, you may be running on sand, into a flood plane, or completely dry asphalt. You might get hit with a light sting of fine sand swirling through 20 mph winds or intense sun radiating from the blankets of off white dunes. Embrace this stretch that takes you from the ordinary and into a magical world of sand and ocean. Ten miles later you will finally get a faint glimpse of Rodanthe in the distance.
For most runners, Rodanthe is where reality starts to set in. This is where most drops occur, and at 100k into the race, this is where the real journey begins. At this point, the long miles have started to take their toll, and 10-16 hours of exposure to the sun, pavement, wind, and cold have depleted even the heartiest of souls. This is also where good planning can mean the difference between a finish and yet another DNF. Warm dry clothes are invaluable, but the lack thereof is usually a turn for the worse. Uncrewed runners have even bigger thoughts to consider. They've gone 18-22 miles between full aid all day, but now must endure the longest stretch without aid at just over 24 miles. The mental battles to quit, or keep going rage on. For some it's an easy decision to end their day, and for others it's a long debate whether they want to venture back out into the chilly night for another 8-12 hours.
From Rodanthe to Hatteras it's a long lonely dark road. Runners battle to stay positive and deal with the monotony. Salvo and Avon provide slight respite from the tunnel vision developed by running a solitary strip of tar while being guided by the small light of a headlamp. Local cars that previously whizzed by every few minutes, some alarmingly too close, are a now rare sight. Every once in a while you'll see headlights in the distance and swear they aren't moving. Believe it or not, that "stationary" car in the distance is actually moving towards you at 55 mph, just from five miles away. If you are lucky enough to have a clear night, take a moment to look up and soak in that splendid night sky. It's amazing how many stars you can see when there's no ambient light around. Then, you'll see lighthouses and the blinking lights of water towers on the edge of your view and you now know to absorb the fact you will not get there for another two hours.
If your brain hasn't numbed by the time you reach the final aid station at mile 87, it might by the time you finish. After leaving Hatteras lighthouse, which will feel like forever to reach, you will experience more of the same in regards to never feeling like you are getting closer to objects in the distance. It's a double doozy if you are not familiar with Hatteras as it will seem like forever to reach the finish, even when you know it's less than 5 miles away. At this point, you pretty much just want to be done and off your feet. For some it will still be night and for others it will be the next day. Years like this one you'll get to witness a rare sunrise accompanied by rising full moon and be reminded of what a special journey you are about to finish. Finally, before you've even realized it, you will be at the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum and be handed your buckle by race director Brandon. You will likely be too tired to assess what you just did, and in all likely only be thinking of getting warm, getting a shower, some food, and going to bed.
The next day you will wake up sore, have some new blisters, and probably a few less toenails. Then you'll remember everything that you went through to lose those toenails, to get that winter sunburn, that gritty sand in your socks and those two swollen feet. Then, you'll take a glance at that buckle and hopefully you'll give a little smile and realize it was all so worth it.
Like I said, the Graveyard 100 is a special race. I think anyone who has ever finished it will say the same. It's the reason I have been involved with the event every year since its inception. I have been an inaugural year solo participant, a staff member trying to recruit talent like Mike Morton, Valmir Nunes, and Olivier Leblond, a race photographer, aid station volunteer, pacer, and crew member. I can honestly say I am thrilled to see how far this grass roots event has come along. The Graveyard 100 has drawn a wide variety of athletes locally and internationally. The event has now had four different champions representing four different countries; the US, France, Brazil, and now Italy. This year's event also saw America's 2nd fastest non track 100 miler with Marco Bonfiglio's incredible 13:01. Only Ian Sharman's 12:44 at Rocky Raccoon in 2011 is faster. Valmir Nunes also ran one of the fastest American 100 milers by someone age 50, or older with his 14:20. It should be noted that Marco recorded a distance of 161.9km on his gps, or 100.38 miles, and he stopped for ice cream during the race, which means he most likely could have run under 13 hours. Whether you finished in 13 hours or 29:59, amazing things are bound to happen at Graveyard.
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*Lastly, I just wanted to mention some things to runners and crews if you are reading this. Having been on the course and interacted with quite a few people in the four years of this event, I wanted to share some thoughts on how to keep the integrity of the event intact. This mostly has to do with crewed runners and their crew.
First, as a participant or crew person, please try not to complain how far apart the aid stations are, or how far it is to the water stops. This information is available, so be sure to review it before you register and know what you, or your crew are getting into. In the same line of thought, try not to constantly question why management chose the distances they did. It's likely because it was logistically efficient, safe, and provided a reasonable challenge. If you want something easier, nobody is forcing you to do this race. Please respect the fact the race is designed to be a challenge, and we hope your runner knew that.
Secondly, and this is probably the worst infraction we saw. Crews can NOT provide support outside of water stops and full aid stations. It is considered cheating to give any form of aid to your runner at non designated areas. I even saw an "aid station" created by a crew team for their runner that was not at a designated area. If they had done this at a water stop, or parking area for an aid station, it would have been fine. Myself and others witnessed this with multiple crews, and it's troubling. You can cheer your runner wherever you want, take photos wherever you want, but even handing your runner food and clothing at non specified areas is not allowed. There were even crew cars that were seen giving support in non designated places, but had no visible crew tags or signs. Again, not okay and also kind of sketchy. We know you are excited for your runner and want to support them the best you can, just do it within the confines of the rules.
Thirdly, runners had pacers before the 50 mile point, which is not allowed. Even if you meet your runner a quarter mile from an aid station to bring them something, it is not okay. Keep in mind there are uncrewed runners carrying all their nutrition and gear for 18-24 mile stretches. It's not being nit picky on our part, but the point is that no runner has an unfair advantage as another, crewed or solo, and doing things like this IS an unfair advantage.
Fourthly, a few crewed runners did not run all the way to the aid station and just continued running after they got aid from their crews. Note: the aid station is part of the course. Failure to check in, is in fact, the same as cutting the course no matter how small the distance may be. Checking in also helps us know you are still alive and not wandering the course like a zombie. We had several DNF's who never notified us they dropped, and caused us to worry about a "missing" runner, when in reality they got a ride home and were in bed.
Fifth, please keep your lights on when you run during the night. All runners are required to have 360 degree reflective materials, a rear light, and a headlamp. At Rodanthe we made sure nobody left without an functional light source, and yet someone was seen a few miles down the road with no light on, and freaked out a local driver who almost hit them.
All of these major topics are discussed at the pre-race briefing and provided in other race materials. In other words, there is no reason runners and crews should be unaware of the rules. A runner's job is to make sure their crews know what they can and can't do, and vice versa.
My very final thought has to do with crew size. There is currently no limit, but some folks had multiple pacers, multiple crew cars on the course, and teams of at least 5-8 people. At one point, at the Rodanthe aid station, I counted over 20 people in the aid area, not counting volunteers, and only 3 were runners. I fully understand wanting to have your friends and family involved, but it can make it very disorganized for everyone else. If three runners arrive at an aid station at the same time, and each has a pacer (who is also in running clothes) and several crew members, it makes runner tracking very difficult in a busy room. Plus, when runners change clothes, it's harder to tell who is who, and less crowds can help staff keep everyone accounted for and safe. Just try to be considerate with your crew size and realize it does impact aid stations that have limited occupancy and resources.
I think if we can all work together and be responsible crew people and runners, this event will continue to be an amazing experience for everyone involved. Just my two cents. Congrats to everyone, and I will see you again next year!
1 comment:
Great Blog, Mike. Stopped in to see what you have been up to. Take care, Vern
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