Javelina Jundred Race Report

My first DNF

Joy Ebertz
Nov 2 · 9 min read

I recently attempted the 100 mile race at Javelina Jundred and ended up with my first ever DNF (did not finish). I completed 3 of the 5 loops I was supposed to run to finish 61.5 miles (which was the same as the 100k course). I ran into massive stomach issues, especially on the third loop and was sure that I wouldn’t be able to complete the final two loops within the time limit. While I’m sure I could have completed a fourth loop, I decided that it wasn’t worth risking injury for (especially with HURT on my horizon for January). That said, even with only three loops, there’s a lot of the race to still reflect on.

The Race

View of the camp from across the weird pit thing that was in the middle.

First, a little about the race itself. Javelina Jundred is the largest ultra race that I’ve ever participated in — it had ~720 people start the 100 mile and over a thousand total once you included the 100k. In addition, there was also a one loop (~20 mile) night run that had a number of people as well.

One of the other 100 mile runners in his costume. It provided shade, but still doesn’t seem worth it to me.

They set up a giant tent city camp at the start finish area, which you parade all the way through at the start/finish and between each of the 5 loops. The section right along the race course is all crew tents, with sleeping tents beyond. With its close proximity to halloween, they also encourage people to dress up (runners, crew, pacers, etc). The whole thing takes place near Fountain Hills, in Mcdowell Mountain Regional Park a little outside of Phoenix.

The Course

For better or for worse, the entire course is very run-able by California or Colorado standards. There is about 1,600 feet of gain each 20ish mile loop where roughly the first half is up and the second half is down. There were a few rocky sections, but more uncomfortable and less highly technical. There was a bit of sand, but even that was fairly manageable. Basically, there was no section of the course where I thought to myself ‘I should walk here,’ which is actually a bit unusual, especially for a race this long.

View from the course

Being in the Arizona desert, it is absolutely beautiful out there, but there is also basically no cover and this year, the temperatures were almost exactly at the seasonal averages — 85ish for the high and 55ish for the low. I’m not sure exactly what they hit during the race, as I had other things on my mind, but that was the forecast as of the day before.

Loop 1: Off to Too Good a Start

Cory and I waiting for the start

I ran my entire first loop, stopping only at the second and third aid stations and even then, mostly just to quickly refill everything. I tried to focus on drinking water and electrolytes and even switched to one of the electrolyte drinks they had on the course. With the exception of tripping and falling around 2 miles from the end of the loop and the temps starting to heat up in those last 3–4 miles, everything about that loop felt good. I chatted with some people, especially at the beginning, and generally enjoyed myself. I was worried I was going too fast, but as I said, I felt good. I spent a little longer at the start/finish aid station, but again, was mostly just in and out of there, just refilling and applying/reapplying water, sunscreen and body glide.

Loop 2: Seeing Friends

Kyle and I attempt a trail selfie

Loop 2 started well. The heat was starting to get a little less fun, but seeing your crew is always a boost and I was riding on that at first. I started to slow down a bit but was mostly still moving pretty well when my friend, Kyle, finally caught me. He was running the 100k, which started an hour later, but we had expected him to catch me in the first loop. We ran together for a bit — I probably pushed myself a bit more than I should have, more from my excitement of having someone to run with/talk to than for any other reason. After a bit of that, however, I felt suddenly faint — sudden nausea and my vision started to go dark. I stopped and Kyle stopped with me. It cleared up in not too long, but he insisted that we walk it in to the next aid station (around 1.5 miles at that point). I really appreciated having someone with me and enjoyed catching up with him, but I did worry that I was messing up his race. At that aid station, Kyle ditched me as I sat for a bit to try to cool off. Before too long, I kept going. I felt better again, and was able to (slowly) run most of the rest of that loop.

Cory and I at the aid station

I ran into my other friend, Cory, at the final aid station of the loop going the other direction. It was again fun to see a friendly face. He gave me some of his pickle juice and kept going. It was only in the final 3 or so miles of that loop that I really started to fall apart. I started to feel nauseous for real and also started to really need a restroom. I did pass a few porta potties during this time but made some bad decisions of skipping them (because they were too far off the trail or some other stupid reasons). In the end, I ended up walking the last couple of miles into the start/finish aid station. I actually caught up with Kyle again at this point — he was still at our crew tent when I arrived.

Some of our friends who recently moved to Phoenix came out to see me at the race! They also said they had no idea how many crazy people there were.

This time, I took my time at the aid station and spent some time just sitting. I was starting to feel the sun, I knew I was falling behind on my hydration and there was a bit of nausea. The only good news was that it should start cooling off after this point. I asked about getting a pacer, but unfortunately, my crew would have had to hold me in the aid station for an additional 90 minutes and it wasn’t even entirely clear who would pace me for the third loop, so it didn’t seem worth it.

Loop 3: It All Goes South

Yet again, leaving the aid station, I rode on the high from seeing my crew and ran more than I should have. That carried me almost to the first aid station. Unfortunately, that’s where my stomach started to really catch up with me again. It struck back with a vengeance this time.

Both sunrise and sunset were beautiful in the desert.

Somewhere between the first and second aid stations, I started walking and the sun went down. When I started walking, I calculated that if I could just maintain a 20 minute mile pace or so, I could still finish, which should have been do-able, even if I walked the entire remainder. Unfortunately, the nausea got even worse, forcing me to stop a couple of times. I ended up puking once before the second aid station and once after the third and spent a long time sitting in both aid stations hoping that if I sat long enough I could reset my stomach. Unfortunately, I never waited long enough for it to work and on top of the nausea, I started to fall asleep while walking. I think the biggest trigger for this was low blood sugar. Unfortunately, every time I tried to eat anything, my stomach got worse and I was too scared to even try taking a caffeine pill (since caffeine often causes stomach issues all on its own). I think I might have been able to power through anyway, but I somehow had this fear that the worse I made my stomach, the less likely it would be that I’d recover which in turn lowered my chances of finishing the race.

By the time I got to the third aid station, I knew that I was almost definitely done. My only goal at that point was just to finish the 100k. As I continued to walk to the finish, it became more and more clear to me that there was no way I could finish. At the point when I dropped out, I would have needed to maintain a slightly faster than 18 minute mile pace for the remaining two loops — significantly faster than my time on my third loop, and spend virtually no time at aid stations. On top of that, my stomach was still pretty messed up. I think I could have reset it, but it likely would have involved sitting for a real amount of time, which I just didn’t have the time for. In the end, my crew shared my assessment and we all agreed on the stop.

High Points

Even in the lowest points of the race, I had high points. When I was feeling my worst, I had many people ask if I was okay, if there was anything I needed and a couple even spent some time walking with me. One of them, who was running the one loop night run, walked with me for a couple of miles, gave me a gel and offered to pace me for my final two loops if I didn’t have anyone else. At that point in the race, he was way more committed to seeing me finish than I was. While I definitely would have been happier without all of the nausea, I also wouldn’t have seen the vast kindness of others.

Lessons

They always say not to turn a DNF into a real failure by not learning from it. Fortunately, I think I did learn a bit more about my nausea issues. I still did crash and burn and did an even worse job of recovering from it than in any previous run, however, I managed to hold it off for longer than most of those runs (especially considering the heat). It wasn’t until ~mile 30 that the heat started to catch up with me and not until ~38 that the nausea hit. I had been trying to drink more water and electrolytes than I typically have recently, so I think I may have been able to stave off things even longer if I had forced myself to drink even more.

While everyone has their theories about nausea and how to fix it, I think my symptoms and observations fit best with what a doctor (also running the race) said while I chatted with him at an aid station. He said that one cause of nausea is when you push your body too far, it causes the blood to divert from your digestive system (exacerbated by heat and dehydration). Eventually, your digestive system will react by mostly shutting down, which makes you feel sick. According to him, the only real fixes are to either reset your body by sitting/taking it super easy for a long time or by puking it out (although that isn’t a long term fix). Ideally, I should try to keep myself from getting into that situation in the first place, hopefully by drinking even more and by taking it easier earlier in the race no matter how good I feel.

Our amazing pacers and crew; we couldn’t attempt these crazy things without all of you!

While I was sad to not finish, I was actually much more okay with my decision to drop than even I would have guessed. I still don’t really feel any regret over the decision and think that I made a solid effort and made some good choices in the end. In general, I enjoyed the experience and got to see a beautiful new area. Now, I am also motivated to go out and try to finish HURT. Unfortunately, HURT appears to be harder than Javelina in every aspect except for the more generous cutoff time, so I’m not sure how likely it is that I’ll finish, but it’ll be fun to try.

Los Runners

All things Running, Trail Running and Ultrarunning in the Bay Area and Beyond

Joy Ebertz

Written by

Sr Staff Software Engineer & recovering manager @SplitSoftware

Los Runners

All things Running, Trail Running and Ultrarunning in the Bay Area and Beyond

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