The Rocky Racoon 100 mile took place on February 4th, 2006 in Huntsville, Texas, a small quaint Americana town 50 miles northwest of Houston. The race took place in Huntsville State Park (2,083 acres) 6 miles southwest of Huntsville. A beautiful wooded park with tall short leaf pines and a lake which is known to have alligators. The course is a 20 mile loop on dirt trails with tree roots, pine needles and rocks. Mild elevation gain, some hills. A very popular and well respected 100 mile race among ultra marathoners. This would be my first time at the Rocky Racoon 100.
Having come off the Avalon 50 mile race this past January and with a respectable time. I felt I had a decent shot of running this one in under 24 hours. Things happen in a 100 mile race. In a 26 mile marathon you can deal with things that happen. A 50 mile race poses more challenges. A 100 miler gives you more time for things to happen, cramping, nausea, blisters, falling and blowing out an ankle or knee, night running which changes everything. A lot happens in running 100 miles.
This race is well manged with aid stations along different mileage markers. My pace was steady. My first loop I am getting familiar with the course and by the 2nd loop I am finding a "groove" to run in. Footing is bad on this course, roots, rocks, you're "high stepping" especially at night.
My body felt good at 40 miles, feet were still good, and my gaiters kept stones out of my shoes. Gaiters are a savior for trail runners. There is lless time and engery spent to stop to take stones out of your shoes.
The Texas ultra runners are proud of their race and the runners who come from all over the U.S. and overseas to run the Rocky Raccoon 100. Very friendly volunteers give their time to help the runners. They fill your water bottles, offer you food, drinks, whatever you need, they are right there for you. What great service they give you. 
Wearing the TWTH shirt seems to always spark interest. Runners will ask me, "what is your program about? You ran the Badwater race? Are you nuts or what?" I enjoy sharing with other runners what The Way to Happiness is all about and always receive positive responses and, "thank you for the work you do as a ultra runner." I have found that many runners will not fund raise for good causes. Too much responsibility or, "what if I fail?" Interesting comments on that subject I hear. 
Daytime temperatures never peaked over 67 degrees, perfect running weather. As it became dark, the temperatures dipped fast. No wind or rain. A bright sky with stars so close you could throw a rock at them. I run with a LED headlamp and hand held LED light, both provided good light on the dark trails. Roots on the trail seem to grow taller at night. It's easy to stumble. Concentration has to be fully tuned in. It can become tiring. I fell a couple times, luckily not serious--at least for 90 miles. It got nippy in the mid-30's at night. You feel the dampness in the air because your running close to a lake.
I did not have problems with sleep or a need to take breaks. My body found a nice groove and mentally I felt strong as I knocked down each 20 mile loop. Frogs were singing loudly, despite the cold. I saw one Racoon, no other wildlife crossed my path.
The last loop approaches. Feeling good, I take in some hot chicken soup and munchies the aid stations provide me. They are set up like a buffet, plenty to choose from, even pizza and burritos were laid out for the runners. My last loop is strong. My feet are good. No major body problems. Chafing: zero. Blisters: none.
I team up with a California runner who wanted me to run the last 10 miles with him. We pace each other along the way. I was comfortable with his pace and he was with mine. His first Rocky Raccoon 100.
At 92 miles I slip in a hole that my light missed and which was covered with leaves. Not the best thing to happen to you this close to the finish. I go down like a tall timber and see stars and pain shoot through my ankle. For a moment I thought, "my race is toast. I broke my ankle." I tell my runner pacing pal to keep going, "don't lose your time. I'll catch up," or in my mind I would. Another runner helps me up. I assess the damage, do a contact assist to help ease the pain and get the healing to begin. That helps, but it's still sore. I tighten my laces to keep swelling down. I walk for a mile, slowly starting to jog and walk, painful, my ankle sings to me like a bird and now I move at a slower pace. My race strategy has now changed. Now it is just to survive and do my best to finish under 24 hours. I did have a comfortable cushion of time, but the slower you go the less the cushion you have. Time is chasing me now.
Dawn is breaking, a beautiful Texas sunrise. This cheers me up. I find run/walking seems to work, though my ankle lets me know when to start walking. I do make progress and grunt and moan at the miserable pace I must accept. I tick off a mile here and there, runners pass me by and inquire if I am okay and compliment me, "you're doing great. Almost there!" You can't but help to feel encouraged by your fellow runners energy and cheer. It rubs off onto you. This all about our sport. You get a boost with this. They hurt too, I am not alone. You suffer in a 100 mile race. The sport of running 100 miles is all about pain and aches. You do your best to shut the pain off. Crossing the finish line is your reward, pain is not.
Finally I manage to run the last two miles at a slow jog. My ankle twinges. I know I have a shot at getting in under 24 hours. Thoughts cross my mind: family, my girlfriend who calls me on her cell, my purpose and the cause I support all come into place. I am really focused now. The finish line in sight, a nice cheer from runners who finished ahead of me and people watching and thinking, "why run 100 miles?"
Crossing that finish line is what it is all about in our sport. You cherish it, you hug and kiss that finish in your mind. It takes a moment for it to sink in that you finished. You're exhausted but yet very pumped up with adrenaline. A runner tells me I made it under 24 hours with 5 minutes to spare. Funny, I did not even look at the time clock as I finished. Was not even aware of it.
Somehow my intention to finish under 24 hours and earn that belt buckle never fell away. I did obtain my goal. Now that hits you. You feel mighty good once the dust settles and it is over. The experience of an ultra runner is unique and we are a unique breed. Those who do extreme sports all can relate to what it is all about when you reach your goal despite obstacles that test your spirit and mind. Having a great purpose behind you counts. They know. Trust me they know.....
Happy Trails,
John Radich