Thoughts of a Tortoise
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
Winston Churchill
The Run Rabbit Run 100 is solid race with an outstanding vibe. Its unique in that runners must elect to either be a Hare – fast runners subject to a 30-hour cutoff and racing for prize money – or a Tortoise – everyone else subject to a 36-hour cutoff. I wisely chose to be a Tortoise and plodded my way to a 34-hour 32-minute finish.
Overview
RRR 100 is a Western States and Hardrock qualifier, but not a UTMB qualifier. It’s the kind of race where just finishing in the allotted time is an accomplishment for us mortals. For 2019, 40 of the 75 officially entered Hares finished (53% finish rate) and 178 of 299 Tortoises finished (59% finish rate). The number of non-finishers includes both DNSs and DNFs.
Officially, the course is 101.7 miles long with 20,391 feet of assent and the same amount of descent. I ran the entire race recording a GPX track on my iPhone using the Gaia GPS app, which I then imported into Strava. My recorded track came out to 107.35 miles in length and 17,112 feet of ascent and descent – significantly longer but less vertical than the official stats. This is consistent with my subjective experience. Lots of runnable terrain but longer than expected distances between some aid stations.

The race is well organized. Packet pick-up at the main hotel at the Steamboat resort base was simple. Race schwag included a t-shirt and ceramic mug that is either for a ridiculous sized coffee or, more reasonably, a nice pint of craft beer. At 6 pm the night before the race, the organizers held a “mandatory” pre-race briefing. I don’t think that attendance at this meeting is vital if one knows the course – but it was kind of fun. The race coordinators are obviously passionate about the race, their community of Steamboat Springs, and the charities supported by the race proceeds. Interspersed throughout the briefing were giveaways of Altra shoes, Ultimate Direction vests, Black Diamond poles and headlamps, and other things. The race director also offered to give a full refund to anyone who thought they were not trained or doubted that they would be able to finish the race. All we had to do was walk up in front of 300 people and the money would be ours! There were no takers as at this point we all still had our pride and dignity intact.
Aid Stations and Drop Bags
The aid stations were all well-run and well stocked with standard ultramarathon food. They all had PBJ, bananas, chips, cookies, candy, ginger ale, coke, etc. Many had breakfast foods like pancakes and sausage. At night they served traditional fare of broth and noodles, grilled cheese, and quesadillas. The volunteers were also cheerful, encouraging, and helpful. If you don’t finish the race it won’t be because of the aid stations.
Each runner is allowed three small drop bags. But because of the course layout you hit these drop bags a total of seven times. The drop bags are dropped off when you pick up your number, and volunteers were quick to retrieve drop bags at each aid station. All my drop bags were back at the finish by the time I crossed the line and hugged the official hugger. Yes, there is an official race hugger.
Overall Strategy and Training Considerations
As mentioned above, the course has a large amount of runnable trail. In very general terms, a training approach that focuses on long, forever pace, running will be better for most people than one that focuses on steep, power-hiking climbs. The ability to sustainably run downhill through mile 50 will set most runners up for a solid finish. Of course, its 100 miles – actually, 107 – so a conservative start and running within your comfort zone on the first half of the course is key. The last 20 miles are almost all runnable if you have saved enough legs to run. Altitude is not a big problem. The high point of the course is only about 10,500 feet. This is a mountain race that a flatlander from sea level can finish, and finish well, with proper training and a conservative race strategy.
Crews
I have an unpopular view of crews: unless you are elite trying to place you don’t need them, and they are just as likely to give you a weaker mindset as they are to help. Crews also take up valuable aid station space. Thankfully, the RRR100 did a better job than many other ultras of protecting runners from out-of-control crews. All that said, it appeared that the shuttles to for crews and spectators to the various access points were well run and efficient.
Course Breakdown – A detailed descriptions of these segments is on the RRR100 website. Here are a few additional thoughts on strategy for each section.

- Start to Mt. Werner Aid Station – Don’t worry and let most of the crowd rush to the front to start the climb. There is absolutely no problem with being in the back of the conga line. You are going to be out there for at least a day, maybe a day and a half. Just get into rhythm.
- Mt. Werner Aid to Long Lake – This is an easy, slightly downhill section out to Long Lake. Almost all this section is runnable on nice single track. Most runners are still part of a conga line. The conga line is your friend. You have almost 100 miles to go.
- Long Lake to Fish Creek Falls – The first half of this segment is almost flat and very runnable. Then you go through a steep, sunny, technical section. The bottom part is runnable but still steep. You cannot make your race on this section, but you can break it if you trash your legs. Mantra for this one is easy, save the legs.
- Fish Creek Falls back to Long Lake – This climb is not that bad. Most of the way up will be a steady march. The last 2 miles have opportunity for running.
- Long Lake to Summit Lake – This rolling section is long, but you can make good time using a “jog the down and flats and hike the ups” strategy.
- Summit Lake to Billy’s Rabbit Hole – The first 2 miles out of Summit Lake are very runnable. After that, its jog/hike through rolling terrain. BRH was surprisingly good for a limited aid station.

- Billy’s Rabbit Hole to Dry Lake – I hated this section. It would make a great day run, but where it is in the race – 35 to 45 miles – with night falling, it was tough. Physically, this is where you find out if your legs can take the downhill pounding or if you blew it out when you went down to Fish Creek Falls. Mentally, it just keeps going, switchback after switchback. You can hear the Dry Lake Aid Station miles before you get there, which also makes it bad. This is the section where the first Hares passed me.
- Dry Lake to Olympian – This is a downhill trail, with a mile or so of gravel road before you get to town. Depending on how your race is going, it may be time to reset expectations.
- Olympian to Lane of Pain to Olympian – A long half-marathon. Nothing too bad, nothing too special; just a slog through the night. The Olympian Aid Station is the only indoor station. As such, it is a “Venus fly trap” for runners. Shoes off. People laying down. Don’t do that. Get out of there.
- Olympian to Dry Lake – Finally heading back to the Finish Line! Most likely its early morning, and time to dig down and grind back up the hill to Dry Lake. Grind it.
- Dry Lake to Billy’s Rabbit Hole – Most technical and hardest climb of the course. Nothing to do but march up it.
- Billy’s Rabbit Hole to Summit Lake – You are up. The race is not over, but it’s done. If you made it here, you are finishing.
- Summit Lake to Long Lake – Nothing in this downhill rolling 8 miles is hard other than the 80+ miles on your legs. Just keep moving.
- Long Lake to Mt. Werner – This section seems WAY longer than it should be. There are also a bunch of small climbs that were not even noticeable as downhills on the way out.

- Mt. Werner to Finish – 6.4 miles and 3,500 painful feet down. Victory lap. Almost all of this is a road, but the last mile turns to trail. The finish is great; run down the trail, jump in the creek, hug the bunny, and get that buckle.
Gear List
The forecast for 2019 was for zero percent chance of rain. Daytime was sunny with temps in the upper 60s on most of the course. Nighttime temps were cold – in the 20s up high and the 30s lower down. The way to think about gear is that you need to prepare for two very different races: a nice daytime run then a cold night. With that in mind, here was my packing list:
Wear: Shoes, shorts, shirt, visor, sunglasses, Suunto Core watch, arm warmers (ditched at Long Lake drop bag)

Carried:
- Salomon Vest & Quiver
- BD Carbon Z Poles
- 2 water bottles
- Collapsible cup
- Patagonia Houdini
- Emergency Poncho – did not use but was backup in case of rain or extreme cold.
- Regular Buff
- Fleece Buff
- Liner Gloves
- Blister kit
- Light fleece jacket.
- Zebra light AA headlamp
- 4 AA Energizer Lithium spare batteries
- Headphones
- I-Phone with Gia GPS and route pre-loaded
Long Lake Drop Bag – Empty, just used to discard items.
Summit Lake Drop Bag – 2nd Headlamp, batteries, warm hat, extra socks
Olympian Drop Bag – warm gloves, batteries, extra fleece, tights, extra socks
Mental
To paraphrase Yogi Berra, the 100-mile distance is 90% mental, the other half is physical. I struggled to maintain positive attitude, particularly for miles 30-75. Also, I had been hoping for a sub-30-hour finish. When I realized that was off the table, I had to mentally re-calibrate. I really wanted the race over at mile 50. Around midnight I did some calculating and concluded that to finish I would need to keep pressing; finishing in 36 was in jeopardy. I marched all night alone having strange internal conversations. I got pissed at myself for entering the race, for not training properly, and for then having a bad attitude. Kept going. When dawn came, I knew that I had a long hard day ahead but also that I would make it if I kept grinding. I got very sleepy with about 17 miles to go. Sat down beside the trail for about 5 mins and realized that I had to get up and go. I listened to a David Goggins interview that I had downloaded for use in case of emergency. Spent 10 minutes yelling at myself while walking through woods. Got pissed that most of the sections were longer than reported. When I got to the last aid, I just pounded a coke and rolled. The 3,500’ downhill hurt every step. Got to 1 mile out, and they routed us onto single track. Mood got better, stowed the poles, and rolled. Finish was fantastic, almost cried. Gave Dad a hug at the finish. Felt like I lived a month in 34 hours.
Closing Thoughts
I give the RRR100 an overall Grade of an A. I don’t recommend that anyone attempt a 100-mile race, but if you want to try one, RRR is a challenging course, beautiful setting, great volunteers, and a fun (to the extent that term can apply to going 107 miles) and encouraging feel. Just come trained, with realistic expectations, and ready to put your mental toughness to the test.