Blood Rock 100
Note on 04/24/2025, looking back at Blood Rock—four and a half years and many 100-miler finishes later:
Blood Rock was one of my most significant learning experiences. The irony of it ran deep: had I not been so obsessed with placing, I likely would have. It took a few races like that to realize just how little that actually matters anyways though and to finally understand what Lee has always said—placing depends on who else shows up; performance is about what’s in your control.
And truthfully, that day was a sloppy, reckless performance. I got to learn—firsthand—just how utterly miserable the final 20 miles of a 100 can be when you overpace, crash your calories, and skip basic aid station maintenance like foot care.
Painful at the time. Invaluable in hindsight..
Blood Rock, December 2020:
Blood Rock 100 felt like someone took my greatest running weakness—steep climbs—and said, “Let’s build an entire course out of just that.”
At one point in the middle of the night, I was totally spent and desperately hoping for a break in the climbing when the trail tilted up yet again. I looked ahead and saw tiny white dots floating in the sky—headlamps. Runners. Moving steadily upward. That’s when I realized: oh great, that’s where I’m going.
The course is a 50-mile figure-eight loop that you do twice. It was early into my second loop—around mile 55—when I was shuffling along, pathetically dreading the climbs I now knew were coming, and I saw Lee on an out-and-back. She let me know I was currently in 4th place female.
I’m not usually competitive, but I’ve also never really been in a position to place. (I had a shot here because, while the ups were brutal, technical down is kinda muh’ sweet baby.)
That changed everything.
Within 30 minutes, I’d moved into 3rd place female—and I held it until mile 95. At all cost.
(As a point of contrast: at mile 50, I was leisurely airing out my feet and drawing a waving stick figure on Lee’s drop bag. At mile 80-something I skipped a sock change and lube re-application just to avoid losing time... and holy hell, did that backfire.)
Things took a nosedive around mile 88. Excruciating trenchfoot kicked in (yes, again—I’m apparently prone to it, and yes, I’ll be doing substantial research post-race). I also had a full-blown blood sugar crash. I’d packed the usual number of calories, but between the relentless climbs and suddenly being in it to place, I was burning way more than usual. The crash hit hard—I started stumbling, falling repeatedly.
By the time second nightfall rolled in, I hit a technical section where one bad step could end very badly. So I did the only logical thing: I dropped to my hands and knees and started crawling. I was out of calories and out of ideas.
Then I saw a headlamp—coming from the wrong direction.
I stood up to investigate... and it was a damn miracle: Diedre!
She’d come looking for me from the final aid station at mile 95, which, as it turned out, was less than a mile away. And she came equipped—with candy. We walked as I ravaged her stash, and then a female runner passed us. She looked strong. Just like that, with seven and a half miles to go, the dream of placing was gone—but honestly, eh. Perspective.
At the final aid station, I inhaled all the terrible junk food, shamelessly fan-girled over the first place female who’d finished hours earlier, and it was decided that Diedre would join me for the final stretch—because after seeing the state I rolled in with, no one felt great about sending me off alone.
We pathetically slogged through the last seven miles to the most beautiful finish line I’ve ever seen.
For someone who’s never worn a belt buckle, I sure worked mighty hard for this one.
Special thanks to Deirdre. She ran with me here and there, dropped off layers at aid stations due to my poor drop bag planning, loaned me her headlamp when mine failed, delivered my morale-boosting girlfriend to the final aid station, found me when I was a total disaster in the woods, and accompanied me all the way to the finish.
Not just thanks—congrats to Diedre too. She distance PR’d on the most difficult course I’ve run yet, and then did at least another 20 miles just helping out.
And of course, congrats to Lee on her first-place finish. 💪