Hitting One Hundred on Mount Hood
Running the Hood Hundred
I thought my days of distance running and hiking hard were over when I was diagnosed with Polymyalgia Rheumatica (PMR) four years ago. I could barely turn my neck, my arms and shoulders ached, and it was difficult to bend over or lift my legs. At age 59, depression set in as I thought my best days were in the past. But at 2:38 pm on July 27th of this year I crossed the finish line of the most grueling run I’ve ever participated in; the Hood Hundred—a 100 mile ultra-trail run with 17,400 feet of ascent and descent with a 34 hour time limit. I did it! My first 100 mile run (and coveted belt bucket) at the age of 64. It was one of my most cherished moments ever—and another reminder of how grateful I am for my health—and affirmation that my best days are far from over.
After nearly three years of being on prednisone, adjusting my diet to drastically eliminate processed foods, and ramping up my running; I put my condition into remission. Acquiring my auto-immune condition during the Covid-19 lockdowns while turning 60 had a profound effect on me. I realized that I had been taking my health and freedoms for granted and I didn’t have much time left to do all the things I still wanted to do. That lit a fire in me to do as much as I could still physically do before it truly is all over. Thus began my ultra-running born again phase.
Heading up Mount Hood at day break, race start. Photo by James Holk
I first started ultra-running in 2011 training for my first 50 mile race (the challenging White River 50) for my 50th birthday. I successfully completed it, but afterward only occasionally ran a 50K. It wasn’t until the summer of 2021 when my interest in ultra-running rekindled. My friend Peter invited me to run around Oregon’s Mount Hood with him. The 41 mile Timberline Trail loop with 10,000 feet of elevation gain seemed daunting—but I accepted the challenge and upon completing that journey I realized I still had it in me and I wanted to do more—so much more! Around that same time a friend of mine Christine, ran her first 100 mile run inspiring me. I watched her over the years progress to this level. A year later for my 62nd birthday I trained for and successfully ran the Cuyamaca 100K Endurance Run in the mountains east of San Diego.
Joking that the 100K is a gateway drug to the 100 mile run, I knew the progression was inevitable. At age 63 I decided it was time. If I didn’t do this now, it may be never. Time was not on my side being 63. I didn’t want to be in my final years wondering if I could have accomplished such a feat—and lamenting never tried. So I started training in October 2024 by running a 50 mile race—followed by three more 50 mile races and a lot of shorter but challenging runs. I trained hard and in various conditions and on varied terrain. And I trained my mind as well knowing how much a race like this is depends on tough mental conditioning.
I read up on what it takes to do a 100 mile run, and I called upon friends and acquaintances who have partaken in such an endeavor. They all had confidence in me and encouraged me. In January of this year as a resolution I signed up for the Hood Hundred. I was now committed. It made sense that my 100 would be this one, as Mount Hood is where my love for ultra-running was rekindled. I also loved that this race is a Western States 100 qualifier attracting a large field and from all over the country. I thrive on the energy of being around all of these people. And I knew that the race directors of Daybreak Racing staging this event would be putting on a topnotch race.
Challenging first 5 miles of race
Starting in January I trained hard entering a 50 mile race (the San Diego 50) shortly after the New Year. I followed up with two more 50 mile races, a tough 50K, a couple of road marathons, and some challenging training runs. All of this while constantly envisioning myself successfully coming over the 100 mile finish line! I asked two of my experienced ultra-running friends, Wendy and Grady if they would be my crew and pacers and was honored when they accepted. My wife and son would also be on hand as well helping out at a couple of the aid stations. I was given lots of great advice from fellow ultra-runners—the two most important pieces being; don’t go out too fast on the first 50, and watch the stomach—it can break you. On race day it was time to heed that advice. I held back on the first 50 which proved to be prudent as I had plenty in the tank to carry me during the final miles. But my stomach proved to be an issue.
Heat thankfully was not an issue and I stayed well hydrated the entire race. But after mile 35 I was having a hard time putting down solid food. Gels proved to be essential. While I winced at their texture and forced them down, they provided me with the calories and electrolytes I needed to keep going. My pacers were adamant about reminding me every hour to eat—without those commands it’s easy to skip eating and lose energy. I burned over 10,000 calories on this run. You have to keep refueling. I fought back several vomit attempts and was fortunate to keep the calories in. I had some other gastrointestinal issues later in the race, but thankfully not serious enough to hinder my running. At mile 55 I was able to scarf some real food—a bun-less heavily salted cheeseburger and a hearty helping of mashed potatoes. I was able to take more mashed potatoes—mixed with chicken broth at mile 63. Potatoes with their potassium, vitamin C and carbs are excellent ultra-running staples—and they taste good!
My son helping me hydrate at mile 23
I was very social on the course, meeting new friends and running along with folks for miles chatting about almost anything. There are some great stories out there on why folks are compelled to partake in such a challenging and grueling event. One of the best things about socializing on the trail is that it makes the miles go by faster. Starting at mile 55 around 8.30 pm my pacer Wendy, a very experienced 100-miler joined me and kept me motivated for the next 34 miles into the morning. The night was serene deep in the forest and mountains. We didn’t have any notable wildlife encounters except for a nighthawk that fooled us into thinking it was a headlamp (its eye glowed) lying on the trail. And at mile 70 we both heard the strangest grunts that we could only attribute to Sasquatch.
The temperature dropped to the low 50s, but it was nearly nonstop uphill from mile 70 to 85. I kept pretty warm just by plugging along. We reached a high ridge by dawn allowing us to see the early morning light shine on Mount Hood. We could also see Mounts Adams, Rainier and St Helens in the distance. It was glorious. Despite being up now for over 30 hours I wasn’t groggy—just in a zone—on auto-pilot to keep moving forward. I was going slower than anticipated and was getting concerned about missing the 34 hour cutoff.
My stellar family and race crew
It was hard making up time running on the downhill stretches as my legs were really tight. At mile 89 I met up with my family and Grady who took over as my pacer. We had sufficient time to finish, but a grueling 1700 foot climb had to be contended with. By this time afternoon was approaching and it was getting warmer. We crossed the last checkpoint with 35 minutes to spare. The final six miles involved ups and downs on Mount Hood traversing ski slopes along the way. Grady dunked my hat in every creek crossing to keep me from overheating. At this point mental training really kicks in. I kept visualizing crossing that line– I’ve come too far now not to do it. A whole group of 100 milers passed me in the last few miles—we were the last ones out there on the course. Over 60 people dropped or didn’t make the cutoffs.
With less than one mile to go I encountered my son on the trail. I could now hear cheering at the finish line. My Garmin conked out at mile 90 and I was now relying on Grady to call out my distance and the time. We were going to make it. I ran as fast as I possibly could with sheer determination and grit crossing that line with 22 minutes to spare. I was met with an immediate sigh followed by sheer elation and astonishment. I did it!!! The satisfaction of completing this milestone overrode any discomfort I was feeling. Receiving the 100 mile belt buckle was like being knighted!
I was overwhelmed with emotion. For the next hour or so I spent with friends and family celebrating the moment. It kept my mind off of my swollen feet, gastro-intestinal distress, muscle twitching and fatigue. Recovery would be long—but the journey was so worth it. At age 64, I accomplished one of my proudest moments in my life. And I’ve never been so grateful in my life for my health, family, friends, and life! What’s next? Continue running ultras and marathons in all 50 states. And will there be another 100 miler? Will the sun rise tomorrow?
Big Thanks to the Washington State Potato Commission for sponsoring me. I am proud to be a member of Team Potato and to showcase the nutritional value and performance enhancement of potatoes as I trained and ran my first 100 mile run—and continue to run a marathon or ultra-marathon in all 50 states! I’ve got many miles to go—and lots of potatoes to consume to power me along the way.
