Yeti 100 Race Report: Catching Lightning in a Bottle

I did what I thought was impossible and ran 13:49 at the Yeti 100 miler. In my 22 years of racing and 6 years of coaching experience, I still struggle to comprehend what happened out there.

I had a huge training block leading into UTMB and felt like I was in the best shape of my life. It culminated with over 100,000 feet of vert in 3 weeks. The quality was also incredibly high. I would come home from each run in Chamonix and tell my wife: “that was my best run ever!” I set PRs on nearly every big climb and descent.

I came away from UTMB with a PR and a solid 27-hour time, but I felt like that performance did not fully express my fitness. Whatever the cause, I didn’t feel like I had my best day out there.

I had only 5 weeks between UTMB and Yeti. With a two-week recovery and a one-week taper, that left only two weeks of real training. Yeti is also the polar opposite of UTMB, flat and runnable. It would be an interesting experiment if nothing else!

I was pleasantly surprised with how good my speed was and ran two solid track workouts. I’ll chalk that up to the marathon blocks last winter / spring and getting to 2:47 marathon shape. I had two key long runs with intensity. On both of them I bailed on the workout early and tried again a day or two later. I got in most of the planned workouts on round two, but those weren’t exactly confidence inspiring. I had mountain fitness, and I had some speed. But could I hold a relatively fast pace for 100 miles?

My 100-mile PR was 16:44 from Rocky Raccoon. That is a fast course, but Yeti is significantly faster still. I felt reasonably confident in a mid to upper 15-hour range and put that out as the goal and race plan. I secretly felt like sub 15 hours might be possible on a great day, but I kept that one to myself.

Pat Early generously stepped up to support me at the race. We tried to find a second person but no dice. It would be a tall task as a solo mission. He would have to manage fast aid station transitions, not much time between aid, and hopefully wrangling a way to do some pacing. I was confident he was up to the challenge though.

Pat and I drove down, got a good night of sleep, and set off at 7am from Abingdon. The course is simple, three out-and-backs. I would alternate between 9 and 7.5 mile stretches when I would see Pat. There was one more small aid station (Watagua) that could have split up the 9 mile section, but we decided it wasn’t worth worrying about at the speed I’d be moving.

Lap 1: 4h17min

I found Trevor and Steph at the start and wished them luck. I am fortunate to coach them both and felt like they were about to have great days – more on that later. I lined up at the front, cool and calm as can be.

The race field was stacked this year, and I was listed around 20th on Ultrasignup. I went out with a lead pack in the pre-dawn light. I opted not to start with a headlamp, and I was just able to see well enough. One guy shot out front right away, and a second guy passed me moving fast. I said hi and wished him luck, and he ignored me. Ok dude, I’ll see you later …

One more guy moved ahead and another came up alongside me. His name was Morgan, and he was just 3 weeks off finishing the Wasatch 100. We ran together and chatted away for the next 8 miles. I didn’t look at my watch, and the time passed quickly. This stretch of the trail was beautiful and my favorite. We ran along rivers and streams with the mountains as a backdrop.

Fun early miles with Morgan
PC: Nick Morgan Photography

They moved the Alvaredo aid station to a new location this year. It was now about 8.5 miles from Abingdon and more crew friendly and accessible. Pat wasn’t allowed to crew the first time here, so I blasted through and didn’t stop for anything. Morgan grabbed some Tailwind, so I was solo again.

The original plan had been to run 8:10s to 8:20s at the start. I was still clicking off closer to 7:50s even now that the downhill miles were over. While this was fine aerobically, the big concern with a flat 100-miler is that you write checks your legs can’t cash. It was a risk, but I still felt incredible and rolled with it.

Pat was filming as I ran into Damascus. I barked at him to swap packs as I ran up. Sorry, Pat. In past years there was a 4-mile out and back that you did only on Lap 1. A bridge went out on that section though, so this year we did a 1.5-mile out and back on all 3 loops. It was a bit confusing and odd the race hadn’t communicated it ahead of time. Pat told me about the change as I ran through, and it went smoothly. I didn’t worry or think much about it.

I started back to Abingdon, and it was always a highlight to see people on the out-and-back. I cheered on Steph and Trevor, who looked great and were clearly running well. On this stretch I shared some miles with Josh, the eventual winner. He was a nice guy and clearly the real deal. After a few miles, we both went back to work and settled into our own groove, though we remained close together for a while.

I popped through Alvaredo and did a quick pack swap. I also chugged Coke and ate some chips, which became my routine at every aid station. Pat told me the guy ahead of me (Josh) could run and that he didn’t think either of us had to worry about the two guys ahead of him. Pat, the ultra whisperer, was right.

I came through the marathon in 3h28min. As we hit the gentle uphill miles back to Abingdon, I eased off just a touch and started to run more by heart rate, making sure it didn’t get too high. Everything was still clicking, but it was undoubtedly aggressive.

In Abingdon I planned to add ice to the routine, as it was starting to feel hot out. I ran by Pat towards the timing mat and shouted “coke, chips, ice” as I went by. The guy in first place was on an absolutely blistering pace and about 30min ahead of me. Second place was at least 15 minutes ahead, and Josh was starting to grow his lead.

Lap 2: 4h43min

I had just set a 50K PR of 4h8min. Given that, I was shocked at how many people were still close behind as I started lap 2 away from Abingdon. Run your race, Will. Run your race.

As I approached Alvaredo, the fun times were clearly over. I was 40 miles in and averaging under 8:10s. My stomach wasn’t great, and I was borderline overheating. We did the usual resupply at Alvaredo while I chugged Coke and put more ice in my hat. This time I skipped the chips and brought a half PB&J for the road, figuring I should eat more real food.

The Formula 1 crew stop. Putting ice in my hat.

I got the PB&J down, but my stomach was getting worse, and I could tell it was on the edge of shutting down. I throttled back on calories and started slamming electrolytes. The ship slowly turne around, and I was able to start back up on gels and sipping calories. Phew, I had managed to avoid disaster. I passed the guy who was previously in second and encouraged him to stay with it and keep pushing.

For some silly reason I had told Pat not to crew Damascus on lap 2. He had said he’d be there anyway when I left Alvaredo, because he’s the best. I called ahead and told him what I needed at aid. That was a theme for the rest of the race. Our aid stations transitions were so fast and I was so exhausted, making it tough to say what I wanted. It was much easier to think about it on the trail and call ahead to Pat.

I got to Damascus and planned to resupply after the out-and-back. I hit the halfway point turn in 6h33min, averaging 8:12 pace according to my watch. I was officially in unchartered territory and taking on a massive amount of risk now.

My quads had started really hurting around mile 45, and I honestly did not know if I could hold on. But something told me to try, to keep pushing. It was one part Ted Lasso’s Believe and one part Ben Dhiman’s UTMB philosophy, showing the distance no respect.

I had been doing some mental math, and it somehow seemed like running under 14 hours was theoretically possible. My brain couldn’t really process that, but I figured I had a shot if I could finish the second lap with 5h10min remaining for the final one. Oh, and not completely blow up.

I was again surprised to see several guys very close behind me still. I split halfway in 6:33 and was still getting run down?! I grabbed bottles, ice, and chips from Pat, and I was out.

Time ground to a halt on this next section. I finally threw in some tunes to try and take my mind off how things felt and just lock in. The guy behind me, Dominick, caught up to me along here. We ran together for a bit, both moving well but both clearly feeling it. I continued riding a fine line of trying to hit splits and not blow up, running 8:40s to 8:50s. Dominick pulled ahead and got to the aid station first, putting me in fourth.

I got to Pat at Alvaredo around mile 57. I told him I was very concerned about my quads giving out. I needed to use the bathroom, but there was a line. Whatever, that could wait until later. We did our usual aid station turnover. Pat told me I wasn’t eating enough and tried pushing solid food on me, which was absolutely his job. I knew where my stomach was at though. The system was working, but more food coming in would throw it off. Gels, bottles, chips, and salt pills. That was the winning formula.

I was dreading the second round of uphill back to the start / finish. I put the tunes back in and tried to stay in the groove. While this lap was very good, I hit Abingdon about 9 hours into the race. Sub 14 did not seem possible, but I stayed positive. There were plenty of great outcomes to still fight for – podium, huge PR, sub 15, etc.

I saw Jade and Travis at the turnaround, and it was fantastic to see friends out there cheering. They would soon pace Steph to her phenomenal finish. Pat and I did our usual quick turnaround. These were emotionally draining. I had been pushing so hard for so long, but there was no time to reset even a bit. We had a job to do. Pat told me the front guy had dropped out, which put me in second behind Josh. I just had to make it another 8.5 miles on my own, and then Pat would bring me home.

Lap 3: 4h49min

I don’t know if it was the boost from seeing friends, the gentle downhill, or the prospect of running with Pat soon, but I was feeling good coming out of Abingdon and picked up the pace. I ran mid to upper 8s and started doing some mental math again. If I could keep this up, sub-14 was back on the table.

My stomach was on the edge with how hard I was pushing, but I was able to keep fluids and gels going. My legs were screaming more than ever before. Somehow they had held together for the last 25 miles, and I just had to believe they would hold for 25 more. I called ahead and told Pat what I wanted at Alvaredo. Each time I called, Pat got nervous that something was wrong. I tried to open each call with “I’m fine,” but I wasn’t much of a talker at this point.

I rolled into Alvaredo for the usual resupply and got ice for the last time. This time Pat was leaving with me. Pat tried pushing solid food on me again and worried I wasn’t eating enough. “Solid food isn’t sitting Pat! I’m eating and drinking though. The system is working. Let’s go!” We took a bit to settle into a pace but soon got locked in. I told Pat my legs were on a different planet of pain, but that was a problem for later.

At the Damascus aid station, I finally needed to take a pit stop at the bathrooms there. I was in there for less than a minute when Pat popped his head in: “Will, time to go!” Sheesh, no rest for the weary. Pat looked for chips at the aid station while I did the out-and-back. There were no chips, but that was fine. Enough fuel was going in, and there wasn’t a lot of time left.

Rough math was that I had to go 5 minutes faster than ten minute miles until the finish to dip until 14. That was far from a gimme with 80+ miles on my legs. At the turn, I was stunned to see Dominick not far behind me. I thought I had crushed that last section from Abingdon, but he clearly did, too.

Pat was pushing me hard with constant pressure on the pace. I was having the day of my life, and he knew it is so rare that everything comes together. The weather was great and conditions were dry. My body showed up and felt fantastic from the start. Fitness was there. My nutrition was working. I had Pat crewing and pacing me.

As tired as I was, I knew I was catching lightning in a bottle, and this may be the greatest day of racing in my life. I owed it to myself to drain the tank, burn the house down, squeeze out every last drop. I made the decision to let it all go. I put in my headphones, turned off my brain, let Pat set the pace, and ran with all my heart.

We somehow sped up and were running mid 8s. I was in primal mode. From here on out, I was essentially unable to speak other than occasionally grunting like a wild animal.

We miraculously had closed the 5 minute gap and now just had to run 10 minute miles to crack sub 14. Pat wanted more though. Every time the pace got slower than low 9s, he’d be on in. Pat yelled over “don’t make me call you William!” I told him that if I was really in trouble, he should use my full first and middle name, William Van Nuis. That’s what my mom would call me when I was in trouble as a kid. I probably shouldn’t have told him that.

We rocked up to the last stop through Alvaredo. Incredibly, we had made it all the way there before needing our lights with just 8.5 miles to go. Pat switched into crew mode and refilled my bottles for the last time. “Time to burn the house down,” I said. I grabbed gels and was gone. Pat would have to catch up.

He pulled up alongside me, and my immediate reaction for some reason was to slow down and relax. “William Van Nuis” Pat shouted. “come on! You’re not done yet!” Pat joked with the runners we passed and encouraged them. I was unable to speak at this point and glad Pat was able to cheer others on.

I was in a level of the pain cave I had never even been close to before. I wanted desperately to walk, to get any sort of relief. We only had to run 10 minute miles and had room to spare. But Pat kept pushing us to run 9s. “Let’s go, William! It’s a long way to the top.” Why was Pat being so mean?! I kept wanting to tell him to back off a bit. I couldn’t handle it and my legs were going to blow.

But I could handle it. Walking would avail me of nothing. This was the time, this was the moment. I surrendered to it, dug deep, and found a few more matches to light.

Time ticked by at a glacial pace. I was getting close, but every minute was a monumental struggle. We passed the Watagua aid station – 3.8 miles to go. The road crossing meant a little over a mile to go. Everything felt on fire.

We hit the underpass and were a half mile out. I finally felt a bit lighter as the adrenaline kicked in with what I was about to do. I picked up the pace and charged towards the turn off the Creeper Trail. Emotions flooded me, and I could not believe I was about to run a sub 14 hour 100 miler.

Pure elation
PC: Nick Morgan Photography

I crossed the finish line through a human tunnel with loud cheers. It was done – 13h49min. I hugged Pat, stunned by what had happened. I was one of only three people to go sub-14 in the history of Yeti. Amazingly, Josh did it even faster on the same day. A friend joked that it was just my luck to run a 13-hour hundred and somehow lose the race.

I couldn’t have cared less about that though. Josh was an incredibly nice guy and did something remarkable. He deserved that win, and I can’t wait to see what he does in the future. More than anything I felt the intense satisfaction of getting everything out of myself, achieving something I could never have dared dream.

This photo says it all. Deeply exhausted and deeply satisfied. Thank you Pat for making it possible.
PC: Nick Morgan Photography

Talking to Coach as we both wondered what on earth just happened

So happy, relieved, and satisfied. It would be another 3 days before I could bend my legs again …
PC: Nick Morgan Photography

It was also incredibly rewarding that Steph and Trevor had the days of their lives as well. Trevor ran 18 hours for a 4+ hour PR, and Steph ran 16 hours for 3rd place and a 4 hour PR. I was a very proud coach and so happy for them.

I have been trying to unpack what on earth happened out there and where I found three hours to shave from my previous PR. Here’s the best I can figure:

Fast course – 1 hour: Yeti has 1,900 feet of vert vs. 7,000 at Rocky Raccoon. Yeti is runnable as can be while Rocky has some mildly technical singletrack and a few muddy spots.
Close to zero stoppage time – 15 minutes: at our first aid station transition in Damascus, a spectator said in a southern drawl “what is this, Formula 1?” We swapped packs at each aid station. I would chug some Coke, eat a few chips, and put ice in my hat. That was it. We probably spent less than 5 minutes total in aid stations.
No nutrition issues – 15 minutes: I managed to keep nutrition on the rails the whole way. I had that little bobble around mile 42 but caught it and worked through it before it slowed me down.
Great weather & conditions – 15 minutes: It was about 50 at the start with a high of 75. I was hot during the day, especially with how hard I was pushing, but conditions were favorable. The trail was also completely dry.
Fitness – 45 minutes: The UTMB block worked, and I think I was fitter than I ever have been. I believe the 30,000 – 35,000 feet of steep downhill pounding in the Alps built the muscular endurance to not blow up at this pace. Given how much my legs already hurt at mile 45, I think that strength was the only thing that let me hold it together.
The Pat Early factor / digging deep – 30 minutes: The magic factor was pushing harder than I ever have in the second half. I started the process, realizing what a special day it could be. Then Pat finished it and got even more out of me.

A huge thank you to my coach John Fitzgerald. We have worked together for almost 2 years now, and he continues to make me fitter and stronger. I truly believe he is the best ultrarunning coach in the world right now . He is also such a genuinely kind and caring person, and I feel so fortunate to have him in my corner.

Pat Early gave me a very special gift with this race. I don’t think there is anyone else who could have crewed me so smoothly and effectively, paced 23 miles at that pace (8:49 moving pace for Pat), and gotten so much out of me at the end. Pat knows me so well and knew how what a special opportunity this was. He pushed me harder than anyone ever has, and I am forever grateful.

Yeti was a terrific race, and I recommend it highly. A big thanks to all the volunteers, especially those who took care of me at the finish while Pat went back to get the car. I was absolutely shattered and needed all the help I could get.

I had a rough couple of days after the race, but I’m recovering well now. Thanks again to everyone supporting and let’s see what comes next after this!