San Diego 100
This will be a very long race report as there is a lot to cover in 100 miles. But for those short on time, here’s a quick summary:
The TL;DR.
Wow, what an experience. I approached all hills with easy effort and took my time for the first 72 miles. So far, it was easy, relaxed, and beautiful! Even as I took it mostly easy, I moved up from 105th place to 40th place. Coming into mile 72, I realized that I could push for the last 28 miles to finish “sub-24.” I had six and a half hours left.
Gale force winds sent dust and sand into my face. Temperatures dropped into the low 40’s. My mind was constantly occupied with calculating the pace and aid station splits I needed finish under 24 hours. After a hard effort, I was now in 32nd place at mile 85. Unfortunately, with the strong winds and the cold temperatures, the possibility for a sub-24 time started to fade away. I had mentally lost the will to push and was suffering from mild hypothermia. I could only summon the power to hike/walk the last 15 miles back to the finish. I finished in 41st place with a time of 25:48:44 (hr:min:sec).
In retrospect, if I had stayed easy and consistent, I might have finished more than an hour sooner. I learned not to be selfish and not to set arbitrary goals for yourself while you race. I had no leg cramping issues this time (Mountain leg exercises! Thanks David Roche!). There were also no issues with nutrition and digestion (although I kind of wish I had issues, to learn what doesn’t work for me).
Keeping a smile on my face, staying positive, and enjoying the beauty of the course got me through what should have been difficult sections of the course. I will need to work on proper race pacing (maybe I went out too easy?) and better gear planning. With AC100 in two months, I would love to nail a sub-24. A man can dream…

I waited a couple of weeks before writing up this race report. I believe it’s better to become fully recovered before reflecting back on the events of a race. The urge to write did not appear until I followed the 2017 Western States Endurance Run live. Watching a deeply competitive field of elites with their respective race strategies and results allows for me to reflect back on my own race strategies in terms of what I can improve on and what I had done well.
Let’s start on the surface with the final result:

If you do a little digging into my UltraSignup history, you can figure out the following: first 100 miler, second youngest starter (and finisher), started running ultras nine months ago.
Here are some facts not found on UltraSignup:
- No formal training until April 2016
- Ran my first 5K mid-May 2016
- Injured with a metatarsal stress fracture for all of July 2016
- Injured with runner’s knee from mid-November 2016 to early January 2017
I was lacking experience, but like to think that I had learned quickly from my racing and mistakes.
Let’s dig a little deeper and look at the aid station splits:

One thing to note is that I was a solo runner (no crew support). I started off conservatively and patiently advanced closer to the front. My position remained more or less the same from mile 36.2 to mile 71.7, with a conservative effort up to Penny Pines 1 (which ended up paying off going into Meadows!). I started pushing at mile 71.7 up until mile 84.3, where I slowed down significantly and dropped many positions going into the finish. I will spend more time at the end of this report going over time spent at each aid station.
Training
My training coming off of the Leona Divide 50 Miler started with a very different approach under David Roche’s guidance. Rest. And lots of it. Week by week training became extremely structured with Wednesday as the designated rest day.

I will admit that I was not the most disciplined athlete. There were days where I took easy runs much harder than I should have, days where a 31 mile run turned into a 41 mile run (OOPS!), and days where I misread the workout completely. Nevertheless, I could feel improvements in my running economy on the uphills and downhills by the time race day was around the corner.
After two weeks of easy running, David introduced short 30 second strides, 30 second hill strides, followed by longer 1 and 2 minute strides. The purpose of these workouts was to improve running economy without over-stressing the body.
When longer runs with mountains were involved on the weekend, I was instructed to run downhills quickly but comfortably (examples: 1, 2, 3). In conjunction with David’s mountain legs routine, I became a faster and much more comfortable downhill runner.
The one big anomaly in training I would like to address is a 41 mile long run (part 1, part 2) 3 weeks before the race. It was a nice cool 72 degrees that morning but quickly became potentially dangerous, with temperatures soaring into the high 90’s during the afternoon in dry and exposed areas. I only carried one liter of water and relied on any fountains and streams. The first 25 miles were manageable. There was plenty of water along the route and shade was also abundant. The last 15 miles were difficult. It was later in the day, and it was hot. Water was rare (every 8 or 9 miles), and shade was sparse. I was running out of water quickly, and was constantly thirsty (even within a minute of dehydrating!). In total, it took over 10 hours, including all the time I took to refuel and reclaim water, but it simulated the fatigue that appears in long distance running. In retrospect, this was extremely risky, as I could have at any point suffered a heat stroke or injured myself. The following day, I struggled to run a moderate hill and felt fatigued for the next few days. This is not good when you’re in the training phase, as those tired lungs and legs will not improve your fitness!
Race Prep
The logistics of a 100 miler are a bit more complicated than a 50 miler. Unless you’re an elite athlete at Western States who expects to finish within 16 hours, a headlamp is required for running at night. As a solo runner, planning is simpler without a crew, but race execution is more difficult. Nutrition becomes king and keeping electrolytes in balance can make or break your race. In all my longer training runs, I relied exclusively on GU chews. These chews are pretty lightweight at 54 grams and pack 160 calories. I planned on relying heavily on these for the first half of the race and aid station food would cover the rest.
There are numerous locations for drop bags. Three aid stations are “double pass” locations where, due to the out and back style of the course, allows you access to the same drop bag twice along the course. With this in mind, I packed most of my “protection” at these locations: sunscreen, anti-chaffing, bug spray, and anti-blister foot cream.


I expected to arrive at the mile 55 aid station, Red Tail Roost, quite a bit, if not a little bit before sunset. I put my first headlamp in this drop bag, as the next drop bag location is 16 miles later. Under continuous usage, headlamps can last several hours, but not through the night. I put a backup battery unit at mile 80, as well as a backup headlamp in case the first one fails. I also packed a couple of handheld flashlights to provide some extra lighting against hard-to-see rocks on the trail. Along with my first headlamp, I also stuffed a change of shoes (the Hoka One One Challenger ATR3’s) at Red Tail and a thin windbreaker jacket in case it got cold early. I knew temperatures typically dropped into the 40’s at night but figured that if I kept moving, I could stay warm.
As for aid station splits, I didn’t do much work here. Although I wanted sub-24, I knew that I would end up having a better race going by feel instead of trying to hit splits. If only I had listened to myself…
Pre-race
The drive from Pasadena to Julian took about 3 hours. I stopped by the Costco in Temecula about halfway to pick up some last minute snacks and food. This was the last “urban city” along the way before the area became a mountainous landscape scattered with small, hidden away towns. One of these small towns is Julian, known for their famous pies.
Before stopping in Julian to check in at my hotel, I went out on a quick run up Volcan Mountain. With 1,200 feet of climbing over 2.5 miles, it wasn’t the easiest run to do before a race. On the upside, it sure as hell gave me a good taste of the terrain and climate in the area: hot, exposed, and windy!




Arriving into Julian was like traveling back to the early 1900’s. Other than the presence of modern vehicles, the rest of the town was stuck in the past. After checking in to the Julian Gold Rush Hotel, I took a shower and headed over to the starting area at Lake Cuyamaca about 15 minutes away for the pre-race briefing.



Before the briefing, I was able to pick up some free swag. Anyone who registered got a tech shirt, Injinji socks, Orange Mud water bottle, a sample of Squirrel’s Nut Butter, as well as some free nutrition. The race briefing went over some tips for the course, thanked the sponsors, and raffled giveaways. Scott Mills, the race director, had so much to give away that it took up the majority of the briefing.


I made my over to the Lake Cuyamaca Restaurant for an early dinner: chicken fajita with a large side of fries. After scarfing down my dinner as fast as I could, I headed back to the hotel to do some last minute packing and planning for my drop bags.
I tried to sleep at 7:45 pm but was too awake to fall asleep. The walls were also extremely thin and footsteps down the hall would constantly wake me up. I didn’t fall asleep until 1:00 AM and needed to be up at 4:30 AM. Well, this is going to be interesting. My alarm sounded. I begrudgingly got out of bed and splashed cold water on my face. Of course, I needed to take the oh-so-important pre-race shit (the first of two), before gearing up and dragging all of my drop bags into my car.
I arrived at the starting area 80 minutes early so I could get a close parking spot next to the finish line. The last thing I wanted to was to deal with after 100 miles was the slow and painful walk back to my car. Luckily, I snagged a parking spot just a couple hundred feet from the start. Since I had time to kill, I tried taking a nap in my car. I couldn’t fall asleep for long with bright headlamps shining about. I had a banana and bagel for breakfast before finally taking my second shit (2/2 complete!) before the race start.



As the sun rose, the start time was near. I finally found Khoa at the start line and we hung around in anticipation for a bit. With 5 minutes to start, Scott gave us some final words of encouragement. And before you know it, it was time to go.

Miles 0 to 12.5: Just having fun

The start of San Diego 100 is quite different compared to most other race starts. Most would imagine the start to be a speedy spectacle, with runners surging out at high speed. This start was quite the opposite, the crowd of runners went from a stand still to a slow walk, to a normal work. The single track trail out of the start was overgrown and narrow. A conga line formed. Thus, began the low trot across tall wet weeds for the first mile or so.
After crossing a paved road, we started the first climb of the day. Many others kept running. I started hiking. Khoa and I enjoyed the sunrise over Lake Cuyamaca as we made our way up the hill. I started feeling hungry already since I didn’t really eat much for breakfast. I started pushing a little on the rocky descent, taking advantage of all that downhill training to make up time whenever possible. After running past a shaded section, we followed a creek which led us into the first aid station.


I took my time at the first aid station to take care of the early race hunger. I kept eating until I felt full enough to call it a meal and headed out to tackle the second climb of the day. At this point, the temperature had risen to a warm yet comfortable 70 degrees. After many switchbacks, we start descending back down. This downhill section was quite a bit more technical, with large rocks and little room for mistake on footing. A number of us got caught behind some slow downhill runners, so I tried to make a move to pass. I misstepped and grazed the top of my foot on a rock. After searing pain for a minute, I got my gait back and let my body numb out the pain. This was way too early to end my race!

After the all the rocks, we ran across a large meadow before crossing a bridge to the second aid station along the lakeside, just a couple miles away from the start.
Miles 12.5 to 21: En route to Sunrise
The second aid station was quite crowded on arrival. We were all trying to grab what we needed without getting in each others day. Suddenly, a local fisherman came barreling through the aid station with his supplies and starting telling us to move out of his way! He walked all the through the aid station, stopped, and turned around to see exactly what was going on. His face looked something like this:

Anyways, I left the aid station soon after that, as I wanted to pick up the pace a bit. It was going to be a very gradual 8.5 mile climb up to the next aid station.

We ran through the large meadow again and onto a fire road. The grade on the fire road must’ve only been a few percent so I opted to run it all, passing a number of people along the way. After a bit, the course turned onto to a single track and started winding its gradual way up along mountain ridges. Steve, who I formally met later on, was moving quickly and breezed passed me on this section. Soon enough, we were descending and coming into the Sunrise aid station.



Miles 21 to 28.2: On the PCT
I got my water refilled and found my first drop bag. Then my ritual began: anti-chafe stick, bug spray, sunscreen, grab fuel. The day was just starting to get warm. I got my bandana filled with ice and made a hasty departure. From here, it was another 7 miles along the PCT.


The views on the left side of the PCT were nothing short of spectacular. A bare mountainous landscape that reached out for over a hundred miles (which at this point didn’t seem too far away) complimented the long stretch of trail that snaked along the endless ridge. I started eating on the run and tried to keep a consistent 300 calories or so per hour.



As I started feeling in the groove again, I picked up the pace a bit more, but kept it easy and comfortable. I overtook Steve when he took a bathroom break and we were constantly trading places with each other on this section. I ran up some slightly graded hills and let gravity do the work on the downhills. Before long I was already close to the next aid station.

At this point, after passing some other runners who looked to be struggling, I thought to myself: Is it supposed to be this easy?

Miles 28.2 to 43.8: In and out of Noble Canyon
When I arrived into Pioneer Mail, the aid station had what looked like a DJ with up upbeat music playing. I got my drop bag, did the prescribed ritual, ate some watermelon, and filled up my ice bandana before heading on out.
After crossing the Sunrise Highway, we started a gradual and exposed climb. It was starting to get warm at this point and the ice bandana was a huge help. I let Steve pass me, as I wanted to take it easy on this climb. After what seemed like quite a while of climbing, we finally began the big descent into Noble Canyon. The trail was terribly rocky and footing was tricky at most times. What I expected to be a quick descent became a slow dance down the technical trail.

We finally arrived onto a smooth fire road and another climb. I passed Steve again on his bathroom break. Before long, the road was paved and I opened up my stride to cruise down to the next aid station at a 7 min/mile pace.
Unfortunately, this aid station didn’t have any ice and there was going to be a long climb up to Penny Pines. The climb started with a very hot and exposed canyon before running up next to a creek that was shaded but steep. I wanted to push a little bit on this section but decided to conserve some energy since this was one of the toughest climbs on the course. Before long, Steve had caught up again. He looked like he was really struggling with this section. He pushed harder than I did and ran his way into the next aid station. By the end of the ascent, I was barely able to run up any shallow climbs. I felt exhausted and longed for the next aid station, but decided to keep it easy. After all, I still had 56 miles to go.
Miles 43.8 to 55: Things are a little harder
I stayed at Penny Pines for more than 20 minutes to get my body temperature down and to get in some more calories. A lot of others were suffering here. Some were cramping up, others were just too beat from the heat. It was here where Steve and I introduced ourselves. He was really looking forward to meeting up with his crew at the next aid station, and he left a few minutes before I did. After getting a little too comfortable here, I decided it was time to go as well. I was fatigued from the heat, but not defeated.
I slowly trotted along, trying to keep things as easy as possible without wasting too much time. I started hiking the climbs that I could run. Even running on flat and smooth portions required some effort.
The trail at some point opens up to an open meadow, and before long we arrive at the aptly named Meadows aid station.

The Meadows aid station was busy since the crewed runners had not seen their crew in almost 20 miles. Steve got here a few minutes after I did. “Did you get lost?” I asked. “Nah, I went to the bathroom.” Wait, again?
It was 6 miles to next aid station where I would have a flashlight and my jacket. We crossed through the big meadow and passed by some grazing cows.

After a little descent down a popular mountain biking trail, we started the climb up to Red Tail Roost. I was careful about overexerting myself and kept my climbing effort easy. Others were probably trying to nail that sub-24 finish, so a few people passed me here. My watch gave me the low battery alert at this point, but I had a battery charger in my next drop bag. Before long, a sharp descent led me into my “sunset” station. Time to gear up and suit up for the night.
Miles 55 to 71.7: Into the night
At Red Tail Roost, I saw Steve again when he came in a few minutes after me. It was starting to get chilly so I grabbed my jacket. I also packed my light and battery charger for the long night ahead. At this point in the race, crewed runners can pick up their first pacer.
It was a long 8 mile descent to Cibbets Flat and a long 7 mile climb back out. I took it easy on the downhill and even stopped for a picture of the sunset. I still managed to pass a couple of people on this downhill. The day was gone as I headed closer to the Mexican border on the PCT.


It was at this point where I pondered the possibility of making a sub-24 finish. I figured if I made it to mile 72 by 10:30 pm, I could comfortably finish in time. It was already 8 pm with more than 10 miles to get to mile 72, so I knew I was going to be pushing it.
I saw the eventual 3rd place finisher and all the runners ahead of me who were on their way up. After the sun went down and the full moon rose up into the sky, I turned on my headlamp and carefully maneuvered my way down the rocky PCT. Off in the distance, I could see a miniature array of lights, which I presumed to be cities beyond the border.
The bright lights of the aid station could be seen from miles away in the remote landscape. As I entered the Cibbets Flat aid station, crew members and pacers were waiting around. I downed hot chicken noodle soup, quesadillas, and some Coke before making my way back out. It was going to be a long climb up.
I saw Steve with his pacer a few minutes after I left the aid station. I looked down at the time and estimated that I would get to the next aid station by 11:30 pm. So that leaves me 6.5 hours to do 28 miles. That’s quite pushing it…
I went into power hiking mode and slowly started up the big climb. I took water and fuel at regular 15 minute intervals to pass the time. As I saw many other the runners on their way down, I finally came across Khoa and his pacer. He said he was feeling good and looked well off. After what seemed like an eternity, I was nearly at the end of the climb and headed into Dale’s Kitchen.
Miles 71.7 to 85: The push for sub-24
At Dale’s Kitchen, I grabbed an extra headlamp and tried getting out as soon as possible. I got out my headphones and grabbed some Jolly Ranchers. I decided to push since I would need to “only” maintain a 13 min/mile pace including stops at aid stations.


When the Jolly Rancher hit my tongue with music playing in my ears, it was as if I was reborn into a new world. I started running the uphills and surged on the downhills. I passed a few runners on the way and felt like I could keep this up for the remainder of the race.



I had a quick stop at Todd’s Cabin and pushed my way to the second pass through of Penny Pines. And then the wind hit me.
The PCT climbed a bit onto an exposed ridge. With no tree and no hills, I had no barrier against the eastward winds. The winds at first seemed pretty manageable, at 10–20 mph. But then gusts were a different story. The gusts must’ve been nearly hurricane level at 40–60 mph, because it would almost knock me off my feet. At times I was running with the tailwind. This was amazing when sub 8 min/mile pace felt effortless. At other times I had side winds which could have blown me off the trail if I wasn’t too careful. And finally, there was the headwind, which picked up sand and blasted it in my face. Unable to see where I was going and pushing against the wind forced me to stop running and slowly hike forward.


Despite the winds, I pushed as much as I could. I got in and out of Penny Pines quickly and made haste in the wind for Pioneer Mall. I tried following along with another runner and his pacer. It seemed like they were trying to make sub-24 as well. I couldn’t keep up, as I had been pushing for the last 10 miles or so.
Eventually, I got dropped and was on my own again, trying to keep my effort under control with the time crunch on the back and front of my head. Doing pace calculations every 5 minutes at this point was not helping me mentally.
Miles 85 to 100.5: A slow march to the finish
When I arrived at Pioneer Mall, my headlamp was dying, but fortunately, I had a spare battery here. I was beaten up but still thought I had a chance. I needed to maintain a 12 min/mile pace at this point. I had thought the remainder of the course was completely downhill. And how wrong I was.
Upon exiting the aid station, I was greeted with a climb. I ran it. The climb leveled off a bit but now the winds were picking up again. Over the course of 10 minutes, I went from pushing for sub-24 to just walking. I was thinking how sub-25 was okay. What’s the point in pushing if the chances for making sub-24 were slim anyway.
The wind was back in full force again. And there was no motivation for me to run anymore. I trudged along in the wind just wanting for this to be all over. I started thinking about how I was going to manage my next 100 and how I should just not run another 100.
At some point, I saw a dog sitting off the trail. I jumped a bit a thought I was hallucinating. I saw some backpackers next to the dog sleeping. Okay, so I’m not going crazy. I kept hiking for what seemed like ages. The trail snaked along a ridge so I could only see the next half mile ahead before the trail ducked behind another corner.
I arrived at the Sunrise aid station defeated and cold. All that hiking with low temperatures and wind had dropped my core temperature considerably. I asked if there was anything I could eat. I had forgotten to keep eating during my push. I asked if there was anywhere I could sit that didn’t have wind. There wasn’t anywhere where I could escape the wind, but they did have a burner. One of the volunteers graciously gave me an emergency blanket and I huddled next to a gas burner. I got hot soup and more quesadillas. It helped but the wind kept taking the warmth away from me. After 15 minutes of sitting and shivering, I decided enough was enough. I didn’t want to wait for the sunrise to come so I wrapped the emergency blanket around my legs and shuffled out of the aid station.


My shuffle was at a measly 16 min/mile but it was better than walking. After a small hill, the sun started rising. The wind died down, and I put some of the blanket away and stuck a remaining piece on my chest.

At some point, I started walking again. I couldn’t run for more than a tenth of a mile before feeling absolutely exhausted. I was eventually passed by 9 runners, but I didn’t care. I just wanted it to be over.
I made it to the finish after walking the last 7 or 8 miles. There was a final 20 foot hill, and I summoned all the mental/physical energy I had left to finish running. I made it back after 25 hours, 48 minutes, and 44 seconds.
I got my medal and finish swag, sat down, and watched the other finishers. After taking a nap in my car, I ate some of the finish line food, drove back to the hotel, took a shower, and knocked out.

You can find the Strava activity here: https://www.strava.com/activities/1030027076
Pace Analysis

A list of splits for each section, as well as the time spent at each aid station, is listed in the table above. In the first 43 miles of the race (laps 1–11), I spent minimal time in each aid station. The climb up Noble Canyon up to Penny Pines was hot, somewhat exposed, and sometimes steep. I spent a good 17 minutes to recover at Penny Pines (lap 12) before moving on. From Penny Pines to Red Tail Roost (laps 13–15), I again tried to minimize the time spent in each aid station. I spent at least 20 minutes at Red Tail (lap 16 +17) to refuel with soup, put on a jacket, charge up my watch, and change from my Speedgoat 2’s to my Challenger ATR 3’s. After Red Tail, the name of the game was to minimize time spent idling, before I needed to stop for almost 24 minutes to get my body temperature back up at the Sunset aid station (lap 29).
Total time spent in aid stations: 113 minutes and 29 seconds (!!!)
Average time spent in aid stations: 8 minutes and 6 seconds
I will definitely focus on minimizing time at aid stations for future races.
What’s next
At mile 87, I was thinking to myself: I don’t think I ever want to do a 100 again. This is hard (of course it is, stupid me!). I just want this to be over.
Then I remembered that the Angeles Crest 100 was 8 weeks away. As one of the original five 100 mile races in the United States, boasting 20,000 feet of climbing and a peak elevation of 9,300 ft, the Angeles Crest 100 will be more challenging than San Diego 100. Yes, another 100 is up next, and now I can’t wait!



