Rio Del Lago 100

Race Information

• What? Rio Del Lago 100
• When? November 4-5, 2023
• Distance: 100 miles (160 km)
• Where? Folsom, USA
• Website: Rio 100
• Strava Activity: Strava
• Finish Time: 27 hours 15 minutes

Goals

Training

After finishing 2021 on an ultra-running high by defeating Moab 240, I took a few weeks off to reset and plan for 2022. I considered challenging races like Badwater but ultimately chose a less demanding option - the Arkansas Traveler 100. In addition, I selected a 50-miler and a marathon. As 2022 began, I ramped up my training.

Unfortunately, a car hit me while cycling, leaving my left leg injured. This accident resulted in a tough six-month rehab period, derailing my plans for 2022. As my recovery progressed, I grew hopeful about running an ultra again.

My first attempt at a comeback was the Squamish 50M in 2022, serving both as a fitness and pain test. Though I didn’t make the final cutoff, resulting in my first cutoff-related DNF, my overall fitness was reasonable. However, leg pain for two weeks post-race made me doubt my ability to finish injury-free, leading me to skip the Arkansas Traveler 100, marking a sad end to 2022 with no ultra races completed for the first time in five years.

Fast forward six months to 2023, I participated in the Quicksilver 100K. Still recovering from an illness 10 weeks prior, my legs felt weak, I only managed ~45kms - another DNF. After having mixed success with my local physiotherapist, I decided to reconnect virtually with my former physio in London, UK, and set up a new training plan. This involved heavier weights and a variety of new stretches, which proved successful. I gradually increased my weekly mileage with little to no pain.

Highlights of my training included a 73km week, covering 110km in a seven-day period, and a solo marathon distance run with ~1600m (~5200ft) of elevation gain. With training going well, I decided to commit to the Rio Del Lago 100.

I chose RDL for three reasons: (1) it was a relatively local race, meaning less travel time, (2) its reputation as an easier race, and (3) its status as a Western States qualifier. Only two of these reasons turned out to be accurate.

Pre-Race

Having struggled with minimal sleep on the first day of Moab 240, I aimed to be well-rested for RDL. I drove to Folsom, CA, on Thursday, planning to spend most of Friday relaxing. Arriving at my hotel, I quickly fell asleep for a restful nap. On Friday morning, I enjoyed a smoked salmon brunch at Karen’s Bakery, then proceeded to the race check-in and bib collection, which was efficiently managed. With some free time, I watched “Five Nights at Freddy’s” at the cinema for the first time since COVID. Afterward, I visited the Beals Point Recreation Area car park to familiarize myself with the race start location.

Returning to the hotel, I picked up a coffee for the next morning, emergency muffins for the race, and batteries for my head-torch. After packing my drop bags, I went to sleep. Waking up around 3:30 am, I felt good. I quickly had a croissant and coffee, showered, and headed to the race start, arriving about 30 minutes early.

Popcorn and chill

Checking out the start line.

Race

City Loop (0 to 21 miles)

Aid Stations: Beals Point to Willow Creek, then Black Miners Bar, and finally back to Beals Point

The race began on a flat and downhill course. I chose to wear my Nike Next%s for this section, as I felt they would save me energy. Considering the regular aid stations and the return to the start, I also decided to run without my ultra vest, saving a bit of weight.

The mass start included both 100-mile and 50km runners, which made it easy to get caught up in the fast pace. When we hit the first hill, surprisingly, everyone continued running. I stuck to my strategy and power-walked the hills, running only the downs and flats.

This large loop was fairly uneventful as we looped through Auburn in the dark. A highlight for me was seeing the large prison looming over the city as I returned to Beals Point. Arriving at the aid station, my feet were a bit sore with the Nikes feeling tight. I switched to Asics Superblasts, grabbed my ultra vest, and quickly set out for the trail section, feeling like the race was truly starting.

Out along Folsom Lake & the American River (21 to 45 miles)

Aid Stations: Beals Point to Granite Beach, Horseshoe Bar, Rattlesnake Bar, and then Overlook

Exiting Beals Point, we crossed picturesque roads that, while not bridges, offered an elevated view of the lake. With the end of summer, the water level was low, revealing much of the beach. I witnessed the leaders of the 50km race sprinting back to the finish, which was impressive. Over the next few miles, I enjoyed conversations with several runners, many aiming for their first 100-mile finish.

Arriving at the Granite Beach Aid Station, it was getting hot! I had recently purchased an ice-bandana, and this was my first opportunity to use it. The aid station volunteers kindly provided me with a chunk of ice for my bandana, and I continued on my way.

The path became more single-track as we entered the ominously named “Meat Grinder.” While not too challenging early in the race, I could imagine it being tough on the return leg. The Superblasts struggled with this terrain, and I was looking forward to reaching Rattlesnake Bar where my trail shoes awaited. It was a long stretch to Rattlesnake Bar and I am glad to report the ice-bandana was a great help! Arriving at the Aid Station I decided to eat some food, take a short 5 minute break, and switch to my Hoka Tecton X2s before continuing.

A heartfelt thanks to the fantastic aid station staff. The grub was excellent and hit the spot.

Leaving Rattlesnake Bar, I had about 15 kilometers until the next major aid station, with a water-only stop before a significant climb, named Cardiac. I found myself yo-yoing with a few runners, which helped maintain a good pace. One runner suggested I take the lead as I seemed faster. Hesitant but willing, I moved ahead. I had refilled my bandana with ice, which was refreshing in the midday heat. A minor annoyance occurred when one of the clips on my ultra vest broke, but fortunately, the second clip held firm.

There are a couple of interesting aspects about this part of RDL. First, there was intermittent tree cover, meaning frequent transitions between shade and sun. I dislike wearing a hat in the shade, so I constantly took it on and off. Second, it felt hotter than it probably was, perhaps due to the sun reflecting off the river and shining up into the hills. Despite the heat, the weather could have been worse. I arrived at the water-only stop (Mile 41) feeling relatively good.

At the start of Cardiac, a 5km climb, I was surprised to see many people jogging up. I stuck to power-walking. I don’t believe the runners were much faster, and they seemed to be exerting a lot of effort. It’s worth mentioning that running poles are not allowed at RDL. While initially surprising, the abundance of tight single-track would have made poles difficult to use, and potentially hazardous. Nevertheless, they would have been helpful for this section.

During the climb, I chatted with a fellow runner, and it turned out we had both run with the renowned Walter Handloser. It’s easy to forget how small the ultra community can be at times. He recommended a few races, which I noted for my potential 2024 calendar. The rest of the climb was a grind, but eventually, we reached the aid station. I grabbed some food and my drop bag and took a few minutes to relax.

The next section was another large loop, with darkness set to fall during this stretch. I grabbed my head torch and warm jacket. I had recently bought a Kogalla waist light but decided to leave it in my drop bag to pick up later if needed. After a brief conversation with a crew member waiting for her husband, I returned my drop bag and started jogging towards the famous “No Hands Bridge.”

Crossing the bridge

View of the beach

Western States Loop (45 to 77 miles)

Aid Stations: Overlook to No Hands Bridge, Auburn Lakes Trail, Cool Firestation, No Hands Bridge, and

A pleasant downhill section began as soon as I left Overlook. I had forgotten how spaced out the field becomes in 100-mile races, so it was nice to briefly chat with a few runners. It was at this point that runners started to pick up pacers, which certainly made the atmosphere more upbeat. Perhaps because this race was relatively conveniently located, or many runners were local, I noticed that the majority of people seemed to have picked up pacers. Like in my previous two races, I opted to go without a crew and pacer. While pacers are great for helping you run a bit quicker, they do increase race logistics, so I continued on by myself.

After what felt like a few minutes, but was actually about an hour or two, I arrived at No Hands Bridge. Still feeling pretty good, I decided to sit down before tackling the short ascent. The aid station volunteers were very friendly and encouraging. They had a big tray of tempting sandwiches, so I chose a ham sandwich, thinking tuna might be a bit risky. As I climbed out the aid station I started nibbling on the sandwich, I discovered the mayonnaise was spicy! Having struggled with spicy food in Moab, I carefully nibbled around the spicy parts, but that meant eating very little of the sandwich. As I descended from the climb, I saw a large police SUV waiting. As I approached, the lights turned on, and the officer pulled into the middle of the road to stop all traffic, giving me my first private escort across a road – quite an exciting experience.

An hour or so later, I started struggling due to a lack of calories since the last aid station. Fortunately, I had an emergency blueberry muffin tucked away. I slowly ate it, along with a few Energy Blocks to boost my calorie intake. I wish I could say I felt fantastic and was able to power through, but this section was a significant low point for me. This often happens as dusk sets in, with the drop in temperature and dimming sky contributing to a psychological low. My solution? Wait until it’s dark enough to use a head-torch. As I left the Western States Trail course and headed towards the Auburn Lakes Trail Aid Station, I was overtaken by a lively runner and their pacer. Rather than seeing this as a setback, I decided to treat them as my informal pacing team and pushed myself to keep up with them. This strategy worked surprisingly well, and I made good time, finally arriving at the Aid Station. I took a break, enjoying two mugs of soup and several delicious quesadillas, which really revitalized me. I also knew that it was mainly downhill from there until No-Hands Bridge – a relief!

I began leap-frogging a number of runners in the dark, and we all maintained a decent pace. The only issue was the dust being kicked up; running behind others meant dealing with their dust clouds. I tried to either stay back or overtake rather than inhale a bunch of dust. While running, I heard a new term, “Cotton Mouth,” aptly describing the dry feeling in one’s throat and mouth.

The paths were quite runnable in sections, interspersed with rocky single-track that required more careful navigation. Unfortunately, due to an issue with one of my soft flasks, I lost about 500ml of water. Coupled with the dust, I started to feel pretty dehydrated as I ran out of water with about 5 kilometers to go. I received a second police escort as I crossed back over the road, nearing the completion of the loop. Arriving at the Cool Aid station, I did some calculations and realized that while a sub-24-hour finish was pretty unlikely at this point, I would have to suffer a significant setback not to finish the race. While I would have loved to secure a sub-24-hour finish, I realized that securing the finish and avoiding a DNF was more important. I decided to maintain an even pace and not push hard for the sub-24. Leaving Cool, I started the downhill section back to No-Hands Bridge. I began overtaking quite a few runners, and as I passed one group, a familiar voice spoke up. It was the runner who had earlier encouraged me to pass them, reminding me once again that I was quicker – hardly true at that moment!

Pulling into No Hands Bridge, I grabbed some water, food, and prepared myself for the upcoming ascent.

Back along the American River & Folsom Lake (77 to 100 miles)

Aid Stations: Overlook to Rattlesnake Bar, Horseshoe Bar, Granite Beach, and Beals Point (FINISH!)

Running north across No Hands Bridge, I was reminded of the last time I ran in this direction on this trail, pacing Sam to his Western States Finish. Back then, it was early morning and getting hot. We were both very tired and eager to finish. This time, although I was tired, it was pleasantly cool. The climb back up to Overlook passed relatively quickly. I felt good and managed to overtake a few runners, but the course was quite spread out, so I spent most of the time alone.

As I neared the final sections leading to Overlook, my head torch started flashing, warning me that the battery was nearly drained. That was unexpected. I checked the setting and realized I had it set too high, hence the excessive brightness. Oops.

Fortunately, my Kogalla light was waiting for me at the next aid station. I arrived, collected my drop bag, fresh lights, and after a quick snack, I was back on the trail. Disaster averted.

This section was a long downhill stretch leading to the American River. I made good time, running most of it with my super bright waist light.

Although my time was decent, I knew how quickly things could turn from feeling great to struggling massively and chasing cutoffs. Feeling strong, I decided to push a little harder to gain some extra time. While I wouldn’t call this part of the race enjoyable, I channeled my inner Courtney Dauwalter and focused on visualizing the finish, which helped me keep pushing through the rolling hills. I also started counting the distance to the next aid station in percentages - somehow, “25% complete” sounded better than “2.5km out of 10km.”

Arriving at Rattlesnake Bar, I saw the benefit of my efforts: I had plenty of time to complete the last half marathon. I felt relieved. The sub-24-hour goal was out of reach, but at that point, the finish time didn’t matter much to me. I allowed myself a 10-minute break to eat, relax, and chat with the aid station crew – a rare luxury. Impressively, one of the volunteers had run the 50km race earlier that day and was now working the night shift at the station, an epic effort.

I said my goodbyes and began the final push to the finish line. Easy, right? Not exactly.

After resupplying at the Horseshoe Bar aid station, I faced the reverse Meat Grinder. During the outbound leg, the trail hadn’t felt technical, but now, with 145km in my legs, it turned into a massive grind. Finding a consistent rhythm was tough, as the trail required constant focus and pace adjustments to navigate mini-boulders and rocky paths. I had to concentrate and keep grinding.

Finally escaping the Meat Grinder and reaching the Granite Beach aid station, I knew I had the race in the bag. For some reason, my body and mind couldn’t shift into a higher gear. For the last 7 kilometers, all I could manage was an extreme death march, even slower than my finish at the Bear 100, where I had been running for over 30 hours. It was disheartening as people started overtaking me.

As I crested the final climb, I took a moment to sit down, enjoy the view, and take some pictures. Then it was time to finish up the race. As I approached the final 100 meters, I heard thunderous steps behind me. Not wanting anyone to overtake me in the finishing chute, I mustered all my energy for a Sprint Finish^tm.

Reflect before the end

Very Tired

Post-Race

After collecting some food and my drop bags, I sat in my car and savored a delicious breakfast. The tiredness and pain were setting in. I carefully drove back to the hotel for a well-earned nap. Mission complete.

Pretty buckle