Of all the things Eric Fritz thought might happen after completing the Western States 100 endurance run in California, being a plumber wasn’t on the list.
Yet, just a day after finishing the legendary 100-mile grind in less than 30 hours , he was doing just that.
“We’re staying at my parents’ place here in California and they’re away,” Fritz told TVO on Tuesday. “When we got here we found a burst pipe. So we dealt with that for about a day. Not what we expected, for sure.”
Fritz, 54, completed the event, officially known as the Western States Endurance Run, in 29 hours, 50 minutes and 28 seconds. It’s billed as “100 miles in one day” but the cutoff is 30 hours. The event began in 1974 and reportedly is the oldest 100-mile event in the world. Runners begin Olympic Valley and ends 100.2 miles later in Auburn, after traversing climbs of more than 18,000 feet and descents of more than 23,000 feet. They navigate traditional lands of several of California’s indigenous tribes, Emigrant Pass, Granite Chief Wilderness and the Middle Fork of the American River. Coming at about Mile 79 in the race, the “Rucky Chucky” river crossing is a welcome cooling-off moment before the final push to the finish.
This was Fritz’s second time in the Western States 100. His first, in 2012, ended at about Mile 30. This time, he said the mental demons started kicking in later. He thought about bagging it at Mile 45, after several miles of a slower pace than he wanted thanks to the ascents and descents.
But his fiance, Melissa, along with his two brothers and “adopted brother” — a longtime friend — who crewed for him pushed and prodded him along. Wanting redemption for the DNF from 10 years ago also spurred him to go on.
“It was more difficult than I ever emagined,” he said. “For those of us in Alabama, … when I was looking this to do 10 years ago, I looked at (the) Pinhoti 100 and that scared me more than Western States did. Pinhoti has more elevation based on numbers but is also in November, with much different terrain. But that was 10 years ago and I didn’t know any better. The climbs here are so steep. Really steep. Fifty miles into the race and it’s like going down into McKay and up Death Trail (at Monte Sano State Park) but for two miles each way.
“The trail just gets to you. We were at Mile 98 and you’re thinking it’s only a mile to hit the road and run into that glorious stadium on a nice track. But no one told you there’s a mile going straight up before you get there. With the heat and everything, I was dying. I was behind my 30-hour pace (times) coming into the aid stations from about Mile 50 to about Mile 80 and wondering if they were going to kick me out. They give you a little grace if you’re moving and not too late, though. That was during the night, too, so things are different on the trail. About Mile 80 the sun came out and Melissa told me if I could keep it under 18 minutes, which is a 30-hour pace, that I could make it.”
Western States 100: All the Things
Looking at the elevation chart, the Western States 100 route looks wicked. Those are deceiving, as anyone knows after studying one and then getting on the trail. Training and events in the Southeast definitely helped Fritz with the heat and terrain.
“From about Mile 55-62, Melissa ran with me and we’d been told Mile 62 is when it’s supposed to get easier. But it was dark at that point,” he said. “It was less rocky and technical, which was nice, but you still had those steep climbs. It felt a little better being on a less technical trail, but at 1 in the morning you’re tired and slowing down. Toward the end of the race you’re going along the American River … it’s dark and you can’t see squat, and the stars are beautiful, but you’re on a narrow trail. All you know is off to one side is an abyss into the darkness.”
Kathy and Rob Youngren are running coaches in Huntsville and longtime ultramarathon competitors. Kathy completed Western States in 1998 and 2005, and Rob finished in 1998 and 2002. They advised Fritz and his crew on numous aspects of the event. A lot of it involved pushing through the mental roadblocks ultrarunners encounter.
“In the middle of the night you get a lot of deep-seeking thoughts, for sure,” Fritz said. “In the last 20 or so miles, it became more of me forcing myself not to mess it up at the end after waiting 10 years to get here again. Basically, it’s just not quitting when you don’t feel good anymore. Probably about Mile 45 is when those thoughts started creeping in. A dirty little secret is letting yourself go slower thinking you’ll get pulled, and then you can put an end to the suffering. But you don’t. You sign up for this.”
Feet Took the Brunt
Fritz said his feet “look horrendous” but he has no blisters. The fine, granular dirt and dust is more abrasive than East Coast trails. With all the downhills, too, feet slide with each step. At about Mile 80, he said, the balls and toes of his feet started getting chewed on the downhills. Water crossings helped sloosh some of the dirt until it accumlated again. Temperatures reached 100 degrees, too, before plunging at night. All part of the experience.
“Getting to the top of Devil’s Thumb is pretty much like Death Trail for about two miles,” he said. “Someone there said it was 101 degrees at the top, which I guess means it was maybe 115 or so in the bottom of the canyon. I don’t have any real statistics but it was hot. One thing about being out there is you don’t think about anything else, really, other than the trail and moving ahead.
“I’ve done a lot of this crazy stuff over the years and lot of events, and I’ve either just gotten old or just am shocked at how hard it was,” he said. “This I think is my 10th 100-mile or more distance race. Every one I’ve ever done I thought I would or could get in under 24 hours. Not this one.”
At age 54, his chances of hitting the Western States lottery again are slim. He could qualify through another event to improve his chances, perhaps. But right now none of that is on the books.
“It’s still too early to say about that,” Fritz said, laughing. “I’ll probably never get in again through the lottery. I have some other things I’m signed up for. Now I might look at them and say, ‘Do I really want to do that?’ You never know. But probably not for this one again. I might have to come back as a hiker and do it in three or four days to really enjoy it.”
Photos provided by Melissa Hopper
