Born to Run 100 Miler: Race Recap

The 100 miler is an evil temptresses. They seduce you, tease you, and then beat you down. And even after all that, you go back for more. After my first 100 mile attempt at Pine to Palm 100, I knew that my heart and legs were up for the job and entered another race: the Born to Run 100 miler. I went into the race with total optimism. I had trained harder. I knew what to expect. And it was an “easier” course –  meaning less climbing and elevation. I had this race.

When we arrived on the ranch on Friday afternoon, I was giddy with excitement. I was without my usual pre race jitters and anxiety and was ready to soak up what I knew was going to be a fun weekend. We were greeted by friendly volunteers and given awesome t-shirts and neck warmers. And of course, we had to stop for photos with the sign and cows.


Once we made our way to the campground, I knew this race was my kind of race. There were guys in skirts (and kilts), cowboy hats, hula hoops,beer, sun and mariachi music. It was perfect. We found the perfect spot – right in front of the food truck (naturally) – and decided to set up camp. Unfortunately, it was super windy and setting up tents was no easy task. After watching us struggle for a bit, two nice men in skirts came over to help us with a hammer and a cold beer. 




Just behind us, we spotted Skirt Guy and his famous hula hoops and made our way over to their camp. I was all set to watch Alyse and the three dudes hula hoop since I’ve never been able to hula hoop ever…but they weren’t having it. Skirt Guy grabbed me a hula hoop, gave me a little instruction and off I went. It was probably the proudest moment of my entire weekend – I was finally able to hula hoop!



After showing off our hula hooping skills, we joined the rest of the party for the beer mile. Unfortunately, I knew it would be disastrous for me to actually participate and despite really wanting to get out there and chug beers and run with the best of them, I decided it was a bad idea. Patting myself on the back. After the beer mile was over, they started ball races – which looked like super fast soccer with super small balls. I wasn’t even about to get in on that game – I am TERRIBLE at soccer and wasn’t ready for everyone there to see just how bad I would be at that game.




The mariachi music and ball game continued on into the night. We found our way to the food truck, played a little Scrabble and pretty soon, the rest of the crew had arrived and it was time for lights out.


We were woken with a bang the next morning. Literally. Gun shots and mariachi music blared around 4:30 am. I started getting my pack together while Casey boiled water for my oatmeal. I had a quick breakfast and then made my way over to the fire pit where all the runners were gathering.



Lara, my new ultra (bad-ass) friend and I promised not to let each other sprint out with the 10 milers and shortly after, the guns went off and we were off for the races. The first 10 miles was over in what seemed like an instant. The first loop was easy, breezy. Rolling hills. Nothing too technical. We realized we had come through a bit fast, slowed down to say hi to the crew, ditch some layers and then we were off for our second loop. The second loop of our 10 loop course was definitely the harder loop. It was a bit steeper and more technical but still not impossible. The first 20 miles were over and again, we were fast. We now knew the course – we knew where the aid stations were and had an idea of what to expect. My favorite aid station by far was the Barbie station complete with a cute blonde dressed like a Barbie and Barbies literring the aid station in all kinds of positions. Ha.


Setting out for our third loop, I was feeling happy and strong. The day was starting to warm up a bit and my niece came out to run alongside for about a quarter mile which left me with a big smile for the remainder of that ten mile loop. Pulling in to mile 30, I was still feeling good. We were still going pretty fast. Casey commented that I was looking a little pale and felt clammy but I didn’t think anything of it. After getting attacked with sunscreen (ahem, Casey), we went out for our fourth loop in good spirits. Towards the end of that loop, I started to feel a little queasy and took some salt tabs and sports drink hoping to curb whatever it was. But I was too late. When we came in at mile 40, Becky said she wanted to run a bit so she came out to do ten miles with us and I started to unravel…one thread at a time. I was moving steadily until we were about 3 miles in. And then it was like my stomach and calves were in cahoots. My calves were cramping and spasming making it difficult to even walk and I was so queasy, I could barely speak. I spent a lot of time somewhere between walking and jogging. And even more time between standing and laying down. At one point, I was so queasy, I just laid down in the middle of the trail. When Becky told me I might be lying on top of a cow patty, I said, oh well. With a lot of help and encouragement from Becky, I eventually made my way into mile 50.

Meanwhile my crew was hula hooping. :-)

Meanwhile my crew was hula hooping. 🙂

I was feeling really terrible. Like really, really bad. My stomach was in knots. My cramping was worse. It was basically a mess. Thankfully Andrew (my amazing pacer) was making a special concoction for me to get rid of my cramps (and possibly also to help induce the vomit?). I drank down what looked like mashed up salt tabs and sports drink and then most of a vanilla ensure which he also kindly handed to me. Casey decided to join me early and off we went. About three miles into that loop as we were making our way up the hill, I stopped dead and puked. I took a few breaths and told Casey I felt lucky to have been able to taste the vanilla Ensure not once, but twice and we continued on. It was a slow and painful 10 miles. Somewhere along this loop when things were getting a bit more technical, we ran into a large group of very large cows standing in the middle of the trail. They were looking at us, we were looking at them. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Another runner was approaching and navigated around the cows. I was happy he was there as neither Casey nor I wanted to be the cause of a cow stampede. As we continued on, I noticed that my stomach was still not quite right but the cramping was getting slightly better.

By the time we had set out for loop seven, Miya (my niece), my mom and brother were back to cheer me on. Miya looked at me and said, what took you so long? That was longer than 2 hours. HAHAH. Oh, to be six! I hugged her goodbye and was in better spirits from mile 60-70 because of it. This was perhaps the most beautiful loop of the course. The moon was shining bright and the stars were out in full force. Everywhere we looked, it was like the earth was illuminated and sparkling. It was just light enough to turn off our headlights and run in the moonlight. It was surreal, amazing and just totally beautiful. And the best part, I was actually able to enjoy it. Thanks stomach. We came across a few cows and their big green eyes were the only part of them we could see. It was somewhere between spooky and amazing.

When we rolled into mile 70, Alyse and Becky were waiting for us with miso soup. I drank the broth, woke up Andrew who was taking a nap in the chair and we set out for our next loop. The first few miles were OK. I was moving pretty steadily and was surprising myself with my pace and ability to keep moving. It was some time after midnight and before morning. I was sleepy. The headlamps were bouncing. And all of a sudden, the nausea came at me again…but this time much, much worse. I took a few opportunities to sit down on the trail. When another runner came by, Andrew told them we were just star gazing. And we kind of were. He encouraged me and helped me keep moving until we were finally at the final aid station for that loop. I gratefully accepted some hot soup broth and sat in front of the fire to try and warm up again (it had become very cold and windy). After a few minutes, I realized it was time to go and we were off. We were climbing the hill…and all of a sudden I found myself doubled over and violently puking…splattering myself, my shoes and pretty much anything else in my way. I think I counted about six different episodes of puking before I was able to get up and keep moving. I could tell Andrew was growing concerned but I kept pushing forward. We were “running,” telling jokes and trying to keep minds off the miles and the sickness.

But no matter what I did, I couldn’t warm up. I was shivering uncontrollably and getting dizzy. I realized I didn’t have anything left in my body to warm me up or give me the energy I desperately needed. About two miles from the campground, Andrew began to get so worried that he asked if I would be OK with holding his hand. So we “ran” holding hands mainly to make sure I didn’t pass out. The minute we got to the campground, he had me in front of the fire with blankets – that were coming from every direction. I still couldn’t stop shivering. After what seemed like an hour, Casey asked me if I wanted to check in for my 80 miles and I said that I did. I walked through the check-in with a blanket around my shoulders and then walked straight back to the fire. Casey practically carried me into the tent and put me in my sleeping bag. I realized then that I was not going to be finishing the race.

I woke up a couple of hours later and was still a little sick to my stomach. So much so that when I went to use the porta potty to pee, I got so dizzy that I had to get out of it and sit right next to it. EWWWWW. I saw Becky and asked her to grab Casey and he helped me get out of there. After a little bit, the nausea started to subside and I tried to eat. We went to shower and then to brunch and  I started to recover pretty easily. It was almost amazing how well I was walking. I keep thinking…if it weren’t for my damn stomach!!!

Thankfully, Andrew has some theories about my stomach and what is likely causing so many issues for me. He says it probably has to do with dehydration and lack of electrolytes which is making it difficult for me to digest food. So, we are going to train and figure this thing out. On to the next…with more experience and better tools!

All in all, it was a beautiful race experience and I will be back for more next year! For more race recap fun, check this video out (long version) or if you just want the highlights, here you go!Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in Fitness, Personal life

Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in Fitness, Personal life


  1. Jennifer Nelson (BetterJNel)

    Unsure how I missed the recap post! I know you may be disappointed in the results, but I am so inspired by this. I remember when you were running, and I was watching to see when you checked in! It was all that the boyfriend heard all day, “Jamie just hit 30!” I wrote a post recently about my first 10k in which I finished dead last in. It had this saying which just came as I was writing ” We must never forget as athletes on our journey, our power to inspire is not to be taken likely. Personal records only matter to us; not to those who would have never dreamed of doing what we are doing.” I am so honored to #sweatpink besides you!

    1. Jamie Walker

      Omg, thank you, that is quite possibly one of the nicest things ever. Thank you so much for supporting me and being such an amazing SweatPink sis! I am so proud of all the SweatPink’ers for being so amazing — and always sticking to just keep trying — I love that attitude. You have to take the first step, right?

      Thank you for checking on me throughout the race — all of the support — whether in person or virtual meant the world to me!


  2. Kevin Young

    Hope this helps you, my race report:
    Friends, I am happy to report I finished the Born to Run 100 miler, my first, in Los Olivos May 18-19 in 28:58¬. I choose to write this race report down before the years slowly remove these current awesome memories and feelings. The course was a figure ‘8’ – which we did five times. The first 10 mile loop of the figure 8 had about 600’ of elevation gain/loss, the second loop of the figure 8 about 1500’ of gain and loss, thus 2100’ of gain per 20 miles, totaling 10,500 feet of uphill and downhill over the 100 miles. I knew to think about it as needing to get through 5 figure 8’s, one at a time. I was wondering if I could average 5 hours for each 20 mile loop, or 15 minute miles, or 4mph, making 25 hours (I couldn’t). Out of the 36 who started I was 21st place out of 24 finishers, 7 women and 17 men finished. It took me from 6AM Saturday to 11AM Sunday of power walking the uphills and jogging the flats and downhills (using poles). It was a dream course for a newbie like me (actually kind of a nightmare too), as the figure 8 course meant that every 10 miles you got to replenish from your supplies, but it also meant you had to repeatedly (10 times) run by your car, tent, air mattress and comfy sleeping bag, before continuing on. There was aid every 3 to 7 miles throughout the whole 100 miles so you could travel light.
    At 172 pounds, 5’ 10” and 56 years of age, I may be over the hill but I was not born yesterday. One mantra I used during my race was “I’ve been training my whole life for this”. I started jogging around the block with my Dad in the 6th grade, and then ran track and cross country at University High in West L.A. for 3 years. I was a middle of the packer (my whole career) but even in high school I tended toward the longer distances, running up to 125 miles a week with my training buddies and traveling to 5K and 10K’s on weekends all over L.A., and running 2 marathons by age 17 (Mission Bay, 3:03 and 2:57). At UC San Diego in 1975 my freshman year I convinced the administration to start the cross country team; we joined a league and ended up competing in invitationals against teams like Tijuana Tech, Biola and UC Irvine, where we were thrashed in 5-mile races by the likes of Steve Scott and Ralph Serna. I finished up cross country at UC Santa Barbara in ’78-’79, ran road races for 25 years in Santa Barbara, then Annie Reese converted me to the trails 5 years ago. I’ve been gradually increasing my maximum race distances to 50K (2007), 50 Miles (Leona Divide 2011), 100K (born to run 2011) and 110K (Coyote Santa Monica Backbone 68 miler March 30 2013).
    It wasn’t until I finished the Backbone 68 miler last month that I decided I’d try this 100 miler, to get the monkey off my back, to cross it off my bucket list. I thought I could do it if I could nail the training, taper, fueling and pace. I trained using the 50 mile a week plan in the book ‘relentless forward progress’ (not the 70 mile a week plan), done in 5 days of running a week (2 days off), mostly on trails on the weekend. The crux workout was a 44 mile weekend with 7000’ feet of elevation gain the second day, 3 weeks before the race with Gary Valle, followed by 2 weeks off before the race with a sore knee. But the key to completing ultras, besides mental fortitude and race day fueling, is consistent miles and increasingly longer weekly runs. While I bet I ran less than most of the 100 mile finishers (did I?), starting with the week of Oct. 1st 2012 through race weekend of May 18-19 (7.5 months of training) my miles per week totals were: 30, 30, 24, 38, 21, 30, 33, 36, 25, 42, 46, 37, 41, 57, 47, 48, 25, 46, 53, 38, 53, 26, 20, 74, 16, 48, 49, 76, 7, 9, 107. My Ultra race history:
    A key to my performance was consuming (trying to) 100 calories per half hour, as well as swallowing electrolyte and salt tabs on a regular basis. I also munched continually on power bars, balance bars, chips, gu, jelly beans, nuts, potatoes with salt, some bar b que chicken (thanks, bill), pretzels, cliff shots, bananas, oranges, watermelon, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Saquito, Hammer gel, chicken noodle soup, a bite of a chicken burrito, Cliff bars… no wonder your stomach is usually a mess during these things! I also drank Heed, Gatorade, EFS (electrolyte drinks) and water all day and night. After 15 hours, as usual, I was sick of all of it (except the EFS) and often nauseous. I still forced myself to eat and drink throughout the 29 hours though, which helped fuel my body consistently. This is the key to ultra running according to Ken Hughes. I’ve suffered from cramping in the past but did not cramp this race. Whenver I felt a quad, ham or calf cramp coming on, I’d stop, stretch it and pop an S-Tab. (Near the end the stretching would cause a cramp to start so I stopped stretching). At the central point where my car was parked I would always stop, open the trunk, fill up my hip strap or back pack (I alternated) with energy bars, nuts and electrolytes and salt tabs, and refill my water bladder and canteens, storing them in the ice chest. I never had an overwhelming urge to quit and get in the car or tent which was sitting right there!
    We camped out the night before on the Chamberlin Ranch, a working cattle ranch of 3000+ acres. There was a food truck, live bands, jam sessions, a beer mile, Tarahumara Indian ball races and clothes donations, bonfire, hula hoops, piñatas, booths selling running sandals, shirts and energy omega 3 packets, etc. Some called it ‘the burning man of ultra running’. Everything was over and mostly quiet by 9PM and we were woken up at 4:15AM race morning by 5 shotgun blasts followed by loud Mariachi music. 400 or so runners took off at 6AM (choosing 10 miles, 50K, 100K or 100 miles) after promising if we got hurt or lost it was our own damn fault.

    The first 10 miles are a joy. My breathing on this first easy loop was mostly a 2-4, that is, 2 steps to breathe in and 4 steps to breathe out – an easy pace I can keep up all day and night. I knew not to push it. I tried to enjoy my new surroundings. I was happy to see 130 minutes at 10 miles, a 13 minute per mile average, under 24 hours if I could keep it up! However, I didn’t remember how hard the 2nd 10 mile loop was, it took me not another 2:10 but rather 2:45 for 4:55 at 20 miles – still under 25 hours pace. The 3rd 10 miles on the easy loop was tough – my groin started hurting already (an old injury) so I stopped briefly every mile to pull my knees up to my chest to stretch out. I averaged 15 minute miles here, taking 2:30. Mentally this was tough, having a body part already failing with 30 miles down and 70 to go. The stretching worked finally and the pain went away for the rest of the race. I was also lucky my 2 week rest healed my sore knee, which was feeling fine.

    Miles 30 to 40 took 3:01, 18 minute pace on the hard loop, finishing at 4:30PM. It was hot, mid 70’s, but not as hot by far as it could have been. Even with a visor, sunglasses, long sleeves and sunscreen, I was getting sunburned. Nancy Kaplan did a good job duct taping my shoes, keeping the sand out of my mesh Saucony trainers so I never had to change socks, nor got blisters. The 5th (easy) loop to 50 miles took 2:39, I was still keeping a good pace and feeling OK, breathing mostly a 2-3 rhythm now and humming/meditating, trying to lose myself and think of nothing sometimes, but usually thinking in the moment of the current conditions, slope, and state of my thirst and body. (For most of the 29 hours I was alone; I brought my cell phone and listened to music for 2 loops until the battery died.) My 50 mile split was 13:06, it was now 7PM, I was at a 26 hour pace, as the sun set and it got dark. It was a lonely feeling trudging onward at this point.
    I left the aid station at the 50 mile mark as the sun was setting and took off running. I finally got the energy to take a little movie from my cell phone. After ½ mile I realized I was going the wrong way! I was on the wrong loop – repeating the easy loop. What a dummy! I wasted a mile and 15 minutes to go back. The hard loop from 50 to 60 was next, I don’t remember much about it but it got dark, I didn’t get lost and I finished that one at 10:18PM in 3:10, 19 minute miles. The 60 to 70 mile easy loop lasted from 10:18PM to 1:09AM. I got cold and was shivering whenever I stopped at an aid station but I would warm up once I got moving again. At night I still had on my running shorts but I ran in an extra upper layer, and had a 3rd layer around my waist I never used. It was surreal running through the night, hearing the grasshoppers, owls and coyotes (yikes, I imagined coming up to a pack of coyotes stalking me), and seeing the eyes of the cows along the trail glowing back at you from your headlamp. I knew now was the time I might hallucinate, and I thought I saw a sparkling spider and tree stumps that were people, and it was surreal again when my headlamp would suddenly shine into the eyes of dark cows lying down next to the trail. I just kept running and running and running.

    The 70 to 80 mile loop was the worst for me, between 1 and 5AM. At one point I was lost, heading for the finish line to quit. One problem for me is I have to look straight down to where my light is shining, every step of the way all night long. Being both tired and partly blind by now, with a failing headlamp, I was starting to miss the hanging colored streamers in the trees. I also could not remember if I was supposed to be looking for pink, or yellow, or both streamers together (blue is bad). I remember running with someone around 2AM arguing we were going the wrong way, thinking we were headed back to the start and that I was about to quit the race since we got lost and were cutting the course (we were going the right way). I was then running down a dirt road alone at 3AM and I missed the 3 chalk lines in the dirt that said do not go here; ½ mile later in pitch black and alone I was seeing no streamers and had to turn around back to the last known streamer. Then I could not find the trail and finally found the streamers but I was unknowingly going backwards on the course! I was following the fricking streamers backwards! I was all turned around. Finally I came upon 3 fellow competitors coming towards me who turned me around while I argued we were now going the wrong way again (we weren’t). This was all quite frustrating as I realized I just lost an hour and was now having to think about hustling to make the cutoff of 30 hours, but I was more relieved to be back on course where I could finish again.

    A quick note about my poles: Im convinced they really help in trail running. On the flats and downhills I find the most beneficial way to use them most of the time is to double pole for 2 steps, then take the next two steps to bring your arms and poles forward again. This gives a 2 armed push to each 2 steps followed by 2 steps of running without poles. I did this for miles and miles and miles. The other way to use the poles on the flats and downs, which I also used to a lesser extent as it felt slightly less efficient, was alternating a pole push with one arm every 2 steps. This gives a one armed push to each 2 steps followed by a one armed push with the other arm/pole on the next 2 steps. The steep downhills I plant both poles for 3 steps, bringing the poles and arms forward the 4th step, relieving stress on the quads 3/4th of the time. I know that saves my quads for later. On the steep uphills the poles are of most use, I’m able to power walk faster than my competitors, making a one arm push with each step. I can fold them up and stash them in my hip pack or backpack when I feel like running free. I just love my poles and think they help me a lot. They give me a push when I could use one and keep me balanced on uneven terrain. I ended up rarely putting them away. I was the only one using them in this race, I think, so maybe it’s all in my mind and a stupid thing to do.
    I got to 80 miles at 5:14AM. This 4th hard loop wandering around in the middle of the night took 4:05, 24 minute miles. I was feeling a little loopy too. I kept calculating the pace I needed to finish before 30 hours and getting different answers in my head. The finish line guy said ‘you better push the next easy 10 so you can take it easy the harder last 10’. I was having trouble comprehending the concept of pushing miles 80 to 90 as I had never been over 68 miles before. But my legs felt pretty good, considering, certainly stiff and sore, close to cramping but still functioning. I was rarely at a 1-1 breathing rhythm so wasn’t stressed cardiovascularly, just muscularly. This was actually a great feeling, a powerful feeling that my body and will was still strong and able to perform, even though I was also surely feeling depleted. At 80 miles, I was thinking I could finish this thing. I didn’t want to have to do another one in the future by not finishing now. I could put up with a few more hours of pain in return for a lifetime of pride in the achievement. I did push the next 10 miles in 2:34, power walking the uphills and jogging the flats and downhills, 15:24 per mile including aid stops from mile 80 to 90.
    I experienced the quiet dawn. I don’t see the sun rise too often. I was like in a dream again, I felt surreal, not of this world. I knew the course too well now. I reached the 90 mile mark at 7:50AM. It was already starting to get hot. I had 4 hours to do the last 10 miles. I just had to do 24 minute miles to finish by 30 hours. I wore my lightest gear. I was feeling giddy and confident I could do it, high fiving Chris Clemens out of the 90 mile aid station. But just 2 miles later I was crashing when I left Nancy’s Barbie aid station for the last time with 2 too-small canteens, and 4 miles mostly uphill to the next aid station in 80+ degree heat. Why didn’t I bring more water? I should have guzzled at the aid station. The temperature was rising fast and I was fading and having to conserve liquid. I hate that! What kind of an ultra runner takes too little water with them at the end of a hot race? Who designed this stupid course anyway? What’s the point of putting 1500’ of elevation in the last 10 miles? I would fill my mouth with water and hold it there, without swallowing, which seemed to help drink more slowly without the constant dry mouth and throat. Soon it felt like the mid 80’s on the sandy ridge high point, with great views over the santa ynez valley. On this 5th hard 10 mile loop, I did not get lost as I could see the markings, and like the cows/fans along the course, I could finally smell the hay in the barn. I dug down deep and pulled from a lifetime of hiking and running internal memories and experiences to keep me going. “Come on Kevin, you can do this” was my other mantra I repeated over and over.
    At 96 miles I reached the last aid station and sat down for just the second time since I started 28 hours earlier. (I sat down once before when Nancy taped my shoes). I took a few minutes to drink and eat watermelon in the shade. I had this now. But then I looked up and saw a guy ¼ mile away coming towards me, and I knew it was another 100 miler. My competitive instincts took over and I took off and pushed the 2 mile uphill (power walking with my poles) and 2 miles downhill (double pole-ing once every 4 steps) to the finish. I was met by a standing ovation by the remaining competitors and friends as I romped across the finish line in 28:58, a happy camper indeed. I was appreciative that some fellow runners took some pictures and texted them to me. New French speaking friends and tent-neighbors Veronica and Loic helped congratulate me with home pressed carrot juice with ginger and a hard boiled egg. Someone handed me a beer I couldn’t drink. I packed up my camp site in a daze.
    I drove the hour home and went straight to Blenders for a peanut butter – coffee shake with triple protein, covered with frozen blueberries. By the evening both ankles were swollen and I had shin splint pain in one leg but that’s about it. I used a cane the rest of the day, the next day I was limping around without the cane, and the day after that I was gingerly walking around. Our bodies are amazing at healing themselves!
    Here is an example of what some focused (anal) ultra runners think about when given splits every 10 miles. My average pace with all replenishment stops was 17:23 (minutes per mile), about 3.5 or 3.6 mph. My two 50 mile splits were 13:06 (15:45 miles) and then 15:52 (19 minute miles). My 20 mile splits were 4:55, 5:31, 5:49, 6:55, 5:46. The odd numbered easier of the loops (loop 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9) I ran 2:10, 2:30, 2:39, 2:50 (night), 2:34 for a 15:20 per mile average. The even numbered harder of the 10 loops I ran 2:45, 3:01, 3:10 (ran an extra mile by mistake), 4:05 (night, got lost half hour), 3:12 for a 19:30 per mile average. The winner ran 15:58 for a 9:34 per mile average! The first woman ran 22:00. The guy who finished 15 minutes ahead of me had an hour and 20 minute lead on me at 70 miles; the guy who finished 7 minutes behind me had an hour lead at 60: thanks to pacing myself properly I had a pretty good finish. I was in last place of all the finishers at 20, 30, 40 and 50 miles before moving up. So I think I ran a smartly paced first 100M!
    I am thankful for my trail running friends and mentors from Santa Barbara, Ventura and Santa Ynez who worked out with me over the last few years and shared with me the skills I needed to know to be able to finish this. I also thank race director Luis Escobar for organizing the mostly friendly course for first timers, with adequate and frequent aid stations, generous cutoff times and a fun camping atmosphere. And thanks (duh) to my parents Dick and Jeney for their ‘active lifestyle parenting’ that started my life long love of running, hiking and nature, and to my family Berni, Kim and Amber for putting up with a Husband/Dad who loves to run.
    100 mile splits and results:
    100 mile results:
    Born to Run results, all races:
    15 minute video of 2013 race:
    Post race, director Luis Escobar interview:

    location of race
    Blogs of race: ,

    1. Jamie King
      Jamie King Post author

      Thanks Kevin, this is super helpful! 🙂 I’m going to try and follow your nutrition model so I can hopefully get past this puking nonsense!

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