We are 3 weeks out from my first attempt at a 100 miler, and I am still sitting here wallowing in self pity. I was driving to the airport to pick Matt up after a trip recently and one of the songs I listened to during the race came on and I literally burst into tears. And then I get annoyed that I’m sad about a stupid race???? It’s hard to reconcile the outcome after dedicating 10 months of 2025 building towards it, and sacrificing so much of my time to train. So it’s okay to be sad.
tl;dr I got injured and had to drop. Like, really injured, 8/10 pain, needed-crutches-to-walk-for-a-few-days injured. This wasn’t on my Javelina bingo card. As much as it really sucks to have dropped, all I can say is I am grateful I dropped when I did, and maybe a little mad I didn’t stop sooner. But ultimately, my issues should resolve with time and rest, but it will probably be a long road to feeling fully like myself again. Let’s get into how everything else went though.
RACE PLAN:
When I signed up for Javelina, the goal was just to finish. As I was training, my coach (Allie Caminiti – shoutout to my homegirl who has been coaching me since 2022) said sub-24 is doable. When I went to plan my race strategy 2 weeks before the race, she was like “girl you can EASILY get a sub-24, you’re ready.” So we wrote up my race plan, wrote out my mantras for each loop, strategized for hydration and fueling, and came up with a heat management plan.
Gear: My plan was to run the first 2 loops without a pack because I got GOT by pack chafing during my 100k back in 2019. I was having wartime flashbacks to the chafing and couldn’t commit to a pack the whole day. I had 2 500ml handhelds I used, with a backup 500ml that I stored in my shorts (linked in the Gear section at the bottom because I CANNOT RECOMMEND THESE SHORTS ENOUGH. ARC’TERYX, SPONSOR ME). I only ever really used that backup water bottle during the stretch between the first and second aid stations, but I was very grateful I had it when it got hot. Other gear I had at all times was sunnies, UPF hat, UPF arm sleeves, and an ice bandana.
Fueling Plan: Precision Gel every 45 minutes, with random snackies along the course. As much real food at aid stations as I could. Coveted snacks for my pack: Gushers, Rice Krispie Treats, Fruit by the Foot
Hydration Plan: Loop 1 (aka the first 21 miles) plan was to drink 2 bottles (500mL each) of Rocktane every hour. This would front load carbs, calories, and also salt. Loops 2-5, the plan was to drink 1 bottle of water and 1 of Rocktane per hour.
Heat Management Plan: Ice and sponge bath at EVERY aid station, start to sundown. The goal is to keep the body temp from rising too quickly.
Mantras:
- Loop 1: Don’t be dumb
- Loop 2: Take care of your body
- Loop 3: BE THE CACTUS
- Loop 4: If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough.
- Loop 5: VICTORY LAP
Loop 1
I started in the back of the first wave, since that’s the sub-24 hour wave, and just kept a very slow and steady pace. My goal was to not get my HR over 155, and ideally to keep it 145-150 (since that’s my easy-to-slightly-moderate HR effort). It was easy to keep it slow until the first aid station (at mile 4) because it was just a line of runners that you were stuck in, but luckily we were going a pace I wanted to be going. It was great – vibes were great, everyone was hootin’ and hollerin’, and the sunrise was stunning. I felt like I was absolutely chugging water, but Allie had prepared me to feel that way. Anytime I felt like I wasn’t chugging, that was my cue to chug. I made it to the first aid station, Coyote Camp, at about a 12:45 pace (technically slightly faster, since I didn’t hit the loop button on my watch til after I left an aid station, so my paces all include rest time, which was intentional), which was slower than I wanted but I was not worried in the slightest since it helped keep my heart rate down. I shoved a bunch of ice down my arm sleeves and got back out there.
The next section to Jackass Junction at mile 10 had the most gain out of all the sections, and I kept it really easy and steady. I kept up a solid jog (12:37 average pace) the entire time and was feeling light and bouncy. It was heating up a bit, but it felt really nice still at this point. I doused myself in water and ice, filled my sleeves up with more ice, and kept trucking. I was feeling really great.
The next section was about 5 miles to Rattlesnake Ranch, and it was all downhill. I was cruisin’ at a 10:53 pace, and I felt mostly great. I had stopped to pee since I was hydrating well, I was taking my gels on time, I was drinking exclusively Rocktane (though it was aid station Rocktane, and SO WATERED DOWN, I felt like I was ordering drinks at a poolside bar in Vegas with how watered down they were). The main issue I had here was actually with my hip – it’s a long story, but when I got pregnant with Avery I had this weird hip issue pop up that resulted in pain in the middle of my right butt cheek. The doctors diagnosed me with some rare thing, which they said would just “resolve on its own within 3-5 years” but here I am still dealing with it at the 5 year mark. It acts up on me sometimes when I run a lot of downhill, and this section was downhill. It was the worst it had felt in years (since I ran CIM in 2022) and I was doing my best to not let it get in my head.
That last section from Rattlesnake back to HQ my hip felt slightly better, but I just kept thinking to myself “if my hip hurts this bad during the whole race how the hell am I going to finish this thing?!”. Luckily it stopped bothering me after that loop. I made it back to HQ and it was getting H O T. My amazing crew hosed me down with a bucket full of ice water and a sponge, replaced all my gels, refilled my bottles, sunscreened me up, and made sure I lubed up. I was feeling on fire. The first loop in total took me about 4.5 hours which was right on target – I had anticipated getting into HQ at 10:24 and I came in right around then.
Loop 2
My second loop was honestly uneventful, in the very best way. I put on my headphones and was in the zone with my carefully curated playlist. It was getting hot already, and I ended up forgetting to refill my ice bandana at Coyote, so by the time I got up the hill to Jackass I was absolutely ready for a shock to the system by just pouring ice water all down myself, which felt truly incredible.
I was feeling so freaking good this whole loop. My HR was staying low, my hip issue didn’t crop back up, I was eating gels no problem, I filled up on ice every chance I got, and I was still drinking my prescribed 1 bottle an hour (I think I peed at almost every aid station for the second loop – this feels silly to mention but there have been ultras where I think to myself “…. have I even peed?!” which is never a good sign). I was also popping 3-4 Gu salt tabs every loop to make sure I wasn’t behind on electrolytes. I was crying happy tears to Taylor Swift songs that reminded me of Avery. Defying Gravity came on and I felt like I could actually fly.
I finished the second loop around 2:45pm, and my predicted time for a 24 hour finish was about 3pm. I spent a bit of extra time in the aid station taking care of a blister on my toe (shoutout to Lexi, my self-appointed foot specialist. Only true friends will touch your feet mid-ultra). My blister was very minor, and probably just from my feet being soaking wet from all the ice and water I was dousing myself with.
LOOP 3
The third loop was when The Injury happened. The first half of this loop went super great – despite it being the hottest part of the day, I was in high spirits and hadn’t even hit a single low. I should have know it was too good to be true. HQ to Coyote was a little slower than previous loops, but again, I had baked in a ton of extra time in my plan due to the heat. I anticipated it would take me and hour and 15 minutes, but it only took me 53. I iced up, refilled, and kept trucking.
Between Coyote and Jackass (somewhere around mile 50), something went very wrong. I don’t remember a big ankle twist or stepping on a rock or something, but I must have done something, because suddenly, what felt like out of nowhere, I stopped being able to heel strike without pain. It hurt a lot whenever I was heel striking. Like a 7/10 (to put it in perspective, by hour 12 of my labor with my son, I was at a 7/10. My pain tolerance is pretty high.) I was immediately concerned. I altered how I was running with my right foot, which of course made me panic that I was going to fuck my foot up in a different way. I stopped at Jackass to talk to a medic, and they were not helpful at all. I decided to keep going and see how it went.
From Jackass to Rattlesnake was all downhill, and as you can imagine, it’s difficult to run on your forefoot while running downhill. It was slightly easier to handle uphill on the forefoot with just how your form is with running uphill, so it started to hurt even more in this section. I finally sent Matt a voice note being like dude, I am FREAKING OUT, please prepare a full shoe and sock change for me when I’m back, and to give me some time to try to rest up. He assured me I was WELL ahead of schedule for a 24 hour finish, and the ultimate goal of finishing within the allotted 30 hours meant I could literally sit at the aid station for an hour if I wanted to/if it helped. I tried not to continue to spiral, and it helped that it seemed to feel a little bit better from Coyote to HQ. It hurt more to walk than it did to run, so I just decided to keep running.
I had predicted a decent slow down for this loop – I had anticipated finishing the third loop in 5 hours, but I ended up finishing it in under 4.5 hours. I came in at about 7:30pm (just about 13 hours in), when I had anticipated a 7:50pm arrival. I think my crew was slightly delusional about how bad my injury was because of how quickly I had run this loop. I came in highly concerned and everyone sat down and stripped my shoes and socks off to inspect the damage.
When we pulled my sock off, we immediately noticed a small quarter-sized bruise under and in front of my ankle. One of my crew tried pressing on my foot to find the source of the pain and it was absolutely excruciating. We all sat there shell shocked and just iced my foot for a few minutes and took 2 Tylenol. I was properly panicking. I was NOT ready to end my day. Literally I had the perfect day until this – I hadn’t hit a low point, my stomach felt amazing, I was eating and drinking really well, I was full of energy (which I now realize was likely due to the adrenaline coursing through my body from the pain, but whatever). The idea of dropping while I felt this good was absolutely not something I wanted to consider.
My friend Gus was also running his first 100 at Javelina, and he had brought his poles just in case, but he hadn’t grabbed them for his 4th loop, so we all collectively decided I’d steal them to try to power through this next loop. Shoutout to Gus for the poles! It was a dumb decision, but I kept thinking the shoe and sock change would be a hail Mary. I was hoping the bruise was just from my feet sliding around in my wet shoes. Matt laced up and joined me for my next loop, and I was so damn thankful to have him.
Loop 4
When I set off for Loop 4, I was legitimately limping and relying on the poles a lot from the get-go. I kept delusional hope that it would get better. Matt and I set off at a fairly decent clip because, again, it felt better to run on my forefoot than to walk with a heel strike. Matt kept telling me Coyote would be the place to drop if I wanted to – it was right on the road where he could literally walk to the car and grab me and we could easily get back to the crew. We made it to Coyote and I kept my delusional hope – we grabbed water and snacks and hit the trail. I was adamant that it would get better.
As we kept going, I was still limping so bad. SO bad. I mean at this point I had literally been running on this injury for 15 miles. I slowed down significantly. I was really hurting, and the most concerning part is that I had taken Tylenol. For it to be getting worse at this point was really forcing me to question my life choices to keep going. After the perfect day of racing and only highs and no lows, this was my time to treat myself to a little menty b. Or 2. Or 3.
We would hike, I would start panicking and freaking out, I would pull off the trail and start crying. It was a lot of “I’ve visualized myself crossing this finish line for 10 months” and “this was the most perfect race day ever” and “my training went so well” and “I did NOT have this on my bingo card” plus a LOT of “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TRAIN FOR A 100 AGAIN NEXT YEAR!!!!” At one point during one of my mental breakdowns (maybe 2 miles from Coyote on the way to Jackass) I even said OKAY I’M DROPPING, we turned around and headed back towards Coyote, but it felt like too much of a Walk of Shame. Everyone we passed was so encouraging – KEEP GOING! YOU CAN DO IT! KEEP PUSHING! and I had to just keep explaining “no I’m injured, I need to drop.” I caved to peer pressure and said fuck it, maybe it’ll feel better after the hill up to Jackass. We turned back around and kept going.
It was a huge mistake, but also what I needed in order to come to terms with needing to drop to take care of myself. It was the longest 4 miles of my life, mentally. But also, we kept chatting with a super sweet runner who flew all the way from Australia to run the 100k, and she was so kind and funny. Additionally, a few months ago I damaged a toenail and it had been hanging on by a literal thread, and during this loop, it finally detached enough for me to fully remove it. I found a bench on the trail, sat down and just yanked my toenail off. The Australian runner walked by as I was working on it and was like “all good?!” and I was like “oh yeah just pulling off a toenail” and both her and Matt were like OH MY GOD I’M GONNA BARF. It was maybe the turning point of my mental breakdowns.
As we kept going to Jackass, the menty b’s turned from breaking down crying on the side of the trail to laughing at how absurd this whole thing was. I forced Matt to take a video of me limping just so I could look back on this moment later and remember I made the right call, and he was literally laughing while recording and I shouted “PERFECT GAIT” as I started cracking up. He kept saying “when we get to Jackass you will make whatever call is right for you” but by 3 miles before Jackass, I was already at peace with it. It was time to drop. I made it 71 miles and called it.
If I had been on my last loop and only had 10 miles left, I’d have absolutely pushed through. I just kept thinking about how absolutely fucking furious I’d be at myself if I pushed through, was out there for 30 hours, and ended up with a VERY serious injury. God forbid I push through and end up with an injury bad enough to need surgery. Or GOD ABSOLUTELY FORBID it be bad enough to end my running career. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want my first 100 to be my last ultra, or to take me out of running for the next year or more.
By the time I woke up the next day, my ankle was a certified cankle, my toes were numb (which I thought was just from running on my toes for 21 miles, but better safe than sorry), and ya girl decided to go to urgent care for an x-ray. Nothing was on the x-ray thank god, but I couldn’t put any weight on my foot so they gave me crutches, wrapped me up, and instructed me to elevate and ice as much as I could. I made an orthopedic appointment back home for 2 days later. One MRI later, it’s clear I made the right call.
TL;DR
All in all, it was a really great day with a really shitty outcome that nobody could have predicted or prevented. It’s been mentally hard to reconcile the fact that while I didn’t run 100 miles, I did still run 71 miles and my body needs time to recover. The Disappointed In Herself Colleen keeps pushing me to keep my fitness up, do strength work, don’t get out of shape just because you’re wallowing in self pity. Meanwhile the Colleen That Ran 71 Miles is still fatigued as hell, and needs to prioritize easy active recovery. I did a 30 minute strength workout the other day that, pre-race would have been easy peasy, but post-race had me literally shaking and unable to walk the next day. It’s been hard to give myself the space and time to fully recover, knowing that I need to put the work in again in 2026 to hopefully get me across the finish line.
I met with my doctor to go over my MRI results and it was truly the best case scenario. He said that what likely caused the bruising/injury was something called sinus tarsi syndrome. He believes that all of the other findings on my MRI (a few tendons had tendinosis, some partial tearing of my peroneal tendon, etc) are likely incidental, and that he sees me making a full recovery very soon, and the idea of completing my first 100 in 2026 is very, very doable.
As of now, my intention is to sign up for Javelina 2026, though I’ve played around with the idea of doing a different 100. At this point it depends on what races Matt gets into this next year (fingers crossed for Hardrock again!). Regardless of what race I end up choosing, I will spend 2026 building up a solid foundation, with a LOT of focus on strengthening my hips, glutes, ankles, and feet. I am so grateful to have made it 71 miles, and to have experienced what can only be described as a unicorn of a race performance (minus the injury, of course). I’ve proven that I can execute well on my race plan, and cannot wait to try again without getting injured!
GEAR
Water Bottles: Handheld Water Bottles from HydraPak
Pack: Salomon Adv Skin 5
Watch: Garmin Fenix 8
Headlamp: Some Petzl one, I don’t know it’s many years old and Matt bought it
Sunnies: Goodr Circle Gs
Shorts: Arc’teryx Essent High-Rise Utility Shorts (literally cannot recommend these enough for girls whose thighs touch and can’t wear loose shorts – I spent all summer searching for The Perfect Running Shorts for Ultra Runners Who Have Thick Thighs and these are hands down my favorite. Worth the money. If you’re looking for Christmas presents for me, buy me more pairs of these shorts. Seriously.
Shirt: Rabbit UPF Tee
Sleeves: REI Sun Sleeves
Shoes: Salomon Ultra Glide 2 from eons ago (don’t worry I never really wore them much, I was not running in some old ass worn out shoes, though tell that to my ankle)
Socks: Balega Blister Resist Light Crew
One and a Half Runners 
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