Average Runner Takes on a 100K: My Full Desert Rats UTMB Race Story

Desert Rats 100K: My First 100K Ultra Marathon and What Really Happened Out There

Introduction

The Desert Rats 100K was my first-ever 100K race—62 miles of sand, heat, wind, dirt roads, runnable climbs, mental battles, and some of the most impressive runners I’ve ever witnessed. This race is a UTMB event, and after running it myself, I can confidently say I recommend it to anyone looking for a well-organized, scenic, and challenging desert ultra.

But the experience didn’t start at the starting line. It started weeks before, when my body wasn’t cooperating, my knee was locking up in training, and I wasn’t sure if I’d even make it to race day healthy enough to attempt the distance.

This is the full story—from training setbacks to nutrition decisions, pacing strategy, heat management, and the physical/mental moments that defined my first successful 100K finish. If you’re planning your own Desert Rats attempt or your first 100K in general, this walkthrough will help you prepare smarter, prevent early mistakes, and approach the day with confidence.

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The Concern Leading Into Race Week: My Knee

Three weeks before Desert Rats, I had a moment mid-run that made me question everything.

My left knee locked up—deep, burning pain on the inside. I’ve had two ACL surgeries and two meniscus surgeries, so anytime something feels off, it’s a red flag.

I was in the middle of a 50K training day, about 13 miles in, cruising, when it hit me. The type of pain you can’t ignore. The kind that makes you think: Is this all going to fall apart before the most important race of the year?

Training History Matters

My lungs have always been much stronger than my legs. I can breathe through anything—but when the legs go, they go. That’s been my pattern. So having knee issues three weeks out from a 100K wasn’t ideal.

Luckily, after three days of rest and some gentle runs the following week, things settled down. I regained confidence. Not that they were perfect—but they were good enough, which is often what ultra runners settle for before race day.

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Race Morning: Smooth… Until It Wasn’t

Desert Rats is run professionally, and every UTMB event I’ve done has been well organized. But this year had one hiccup:

The shuttles were late.

Drivers didn’t show. Runners were lined up early, ready to go, but stuck waiting. The race directors ended up delaying the start by 10 minutes so every runner could make the start line.

A Stressful Start

Waiting for a shuttle—unsure if you’ll make it to the start in time—is not the ideal way to begin a 100K. The anticipation turns into anxiety. Everyone is checking their watches, checking the sky, checking their bags, pacing, stretching, breathing heavy, trying to stay calm.

Once we finally arrived, I jumped into the porta-potty, sprinted out, and the race began.

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Miles 0–6: Running Into the Sunrise

The race starts at 5:00 AM, so the first hour is in complete darkness. Headlamps bouncing. Footsteps soft on the packed desert dirt. Runners spread out slowly as everyone finds a sustainable rhythm.

It’s six and a half miles to the first aid station—the first chance to ditch your headlamp to your crew.

After that, there’s a three-and-a-half–mile loop before reaching the 10-mile station.

Realization #1 of the Day: My Heart Rate Was Way Too High

At 8.25 miles in, I had to slow down. I felt great, the morning air was cool, and excitement was high—but my heart rate was drifting into the 147 bpm range.

For a long ultra, that was too high for me.

I had to get it back down to the low 130s to have any chance of finishing strong.

So I power-hiked until my excitement dropped and the heart rate settled.

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Miles 10–22: Finding the Day’s Rhythm

After passing Callie at the 10-mile aid station, I wouldn’t see her again for 22 miles.

The field began spreading out. You’d see a runner every 100 yards or so—a nice balance between space and community.

Around 12–14 miles in, I ate breakfast:

• Bagel

• Coffee

• A little caffeine buzz to smooth out the early morning fatigue

The Strategy That Saved My Race

For my very first 100K, I wasn’t racing—I was surviving.

My goal was:

Go slow. Really slow. Painfully slow.
Even if it feels like walking.

This is one of the most important lessons for a first 100K:

If it’s your first time running a longer distance, the goal is to complete the distance—not race it.

Most first-time ultra runners blow up because:

• they feel good

• they’re excited

• they push early

• and they pay for it later

For at least the first 30 miles, the effort should feel almost “too easy.”

You will get your chance to race on another day. Today is about finishing.

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Course Overview: Smooth, Runnable, and Deceptive

Desert Rats takes place on hard-packed desert dirt. It’s smooth, runnable, and surprisingly non-technical for a UTMB event.

The climbs are gentle enough that, if you have the fitness, you could run many of them. I didn’t—by choice—because strategy matters more than ego when the temperature will hit 90+ degrees later in the day.

The aid stations were well-stocked:

• Snacks

• Soda

• Water

• Pickle juice

• Electrolytes

• Salty foods

• Frozen sponges

• Ice

Volunteers were incredible—friendly, fast, and encouraging.

Next time, I probably won’t bring so much of my own nutrition. The aid stations had everything I needed.

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Miles 19–25: Watching the 50K Elite Fly Past

At mile 19, I felt great. Strong, steady, and confident.

Then something fascinating happened:

The 50K elite runners, who started two hours after us, began passing.

One leader jogged past me, holding a casual conversation, running what felt like a 6-minute pace. He wasn’t breathing hard. He wasn’t straining. He was just gliding.

That runner, Brian Whitfield, ended up setting a course record.

A Fun Twist

Callie was at a pizza shop between aid stations trying to understand the race map. Frustrated and confused, she asked another runner inside:

“Hey, can you help me figure out where my husband is right now?”

Turns out she asked the winner of the 50K.

He helped her find me on the map.

Trail runners are the nicest people.

(Except one very angry guy I once met at Pikes Peak Marathon… but that’s a different story.)

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Miles 25–33: Heat, Climb, and Keeping It Controlled

I hit the 25-mile mark around 5 hours and 47 minutes—feeling good, cooling off at aid stations, and managing hydration well.

The heat, however, was rising fast.

My Heat Management Strategy That Saved Me

Desert Rats is a desert race. And this day was HOT. Over 90 degrees.

I had two secret weapons:

1. An Ice Hat

This hat has pockets inside the brim.
I could stuff six ice cubes in the front, wear it forward, then flip it backward later to move the ice cooling zone.

It kept me 30–40 minutes cooler at a time.

2. An Ice Bandana

Stuff ice in it. Tie it around the neck.
Instant evaporative cooling in the desert wind.

3. White Sun-Protective Long Sleeve

Reflects sun + keeps skin cooler.

These three things prevented heat exhaustion for me.
They did not prevent it for many others.

Over 26% of the runners dropped out.
Ambulances. Heat injuries. Broken runners sitting in the shade.

This race turned dangerous for many.

But I stayed steady, slow, hydrated, and cool.

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Miles 33–40: The Wind, the Off-Roaders, and the Dust

Once I hit the back half of the course, things changed.

A lot of the second half takes place on:

• Jeep roads

• 4-wheel drive trails

• Dirt bike routes

Nothing dangerous—but very dusty.

Normally this is fine.

But on this day?

The Wind Was Fierce

30–40 MPH gusts.

When off-roaders passed, the wind kicked up huge clouds of dust.
I had to squint, close my eyes, or hide behind my sunglasses just to keep dirt out of my face.

Not ideal.

But it’s part of the adventure. These are public roads, and everyone’s out enjoying their day.

No point getting frustrated—just adapt and move on.

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Miles 40–50: The Western Rim and the Battle Against the Wind

This section is exposed. Wide open. No shelter.
And the wind wasn’t letting up.

Some gusts were so strong that:

Running into the wind felt like running uphill—even when it was flat.

At mile 50, cows appeared alongside the trail.
The wind was still raging, but at least the view was iconic.

Despite the obstacles, I felt reasonably good. Tired, yes. But not broken.

And that’s what matters.

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Miles 50–54: Fatigue While Still in Control

With 10 miles left, I was deep into the farthest distance I’d run in a race so far. My longest race before this was 56 miles. So at this point, everything started feeling new.

Eating became harder.
Stomach slowed down.
Forcing calories in became a chore.

But mentally?
I was still locked in.

Important Note for First-Time 100K Runners

You do not need to hit a dramatic breaking point to finish your first 100K.

Sometimes the day just goes well.
Sometimes your training carries you.
Sometimes it’s not a “gut-check day”—it’s simply a long day.

That was my experience. I was tired but never mentally defeated.

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Miles 54–59: Darkness and the Final Push

Around 59 miles, I left the final aid station after downing:

• Chicken broth

• A banana

• Some water

It was getting dark fast.

And here’s where experience matters:

Running in the dark is much harder than you’d think.

Finding:

• Trail markers

• Little flags

• Turns

• Foot placement

…becomes significantly more difficult.

I wore a headlamp, but the darkness still changes everything.

Thankfully, I downloaded the GPX file onto my watch before the race.
This was a total game-changer.

It kept me on course through the dark, through the silence, through the empty miles with no other runners nearby.

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The Finish Line

After 16 hours and 3 minutes of running, hiking, eating, cooling, sweating, climbing, descending, and battling wind and heat, I crossed the finish line.

92nd out of 202 runners.

Not fast.
Not slow.
But strong.
Controlled.
And proud.

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For Those Planning to Run the Desert Rats 100K

Here are my personal stats for context:

• Half marathon PR: 1:54

• Trail marathon PR: 4:25 with 4,000 feet of climb

• Daily training pace: 12–13 min/mile at 130 bpm

• Prior longest race: 56 miles

These benchmarks Matter because:

For your first 100K, planning your time is very difficult.
Especially if you aren’t from the region.

Time Expectations Reality Check

If you run a 50K in:

• 6 hours, your 100K is NOT going to be 12 hours

• Plan for 14–18 hours depending on heat, wind, and pacing

You must plan drop bags accordingly:

• Headlamp (at the right location)

• Battery bank

• Extra socks

• Salt/compression sleeves

• Heat gear

• Night gear

You do not want to DNF because you forgot something small but critical.

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This 100K Was Redemption

One year before this, I ran a 55-mile race and got everything wrong.
I overtrained.
I underplanned.
I blew up.
I hurt myself.
And I paid for it.

This time, I spent a year training smarter.
Planning better.
Learning from past mistakes.

And the result?

I finished strong.
Recovered fast.
Felt 100% within a week.

This was the race I needed.
The race that showed me I could run long distances without destroying my body.

A successful first 100K isn’t about speed—it’s about strategy, patience, humility, and respecting the distance.

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Final Thoughts: What I Learned From Desert Rats 100K

Running a 100K teaches you a lot about yourself:

• Your patience

• Your humility

• Your pacing discipline

• Your problem-solving

• Your heat tolerance

• Your mental endurance

• Your willingness to walk when you need to

This race was everything I hoped for and everything I feared—and that’s exactly what a first 100K should be.

I’ll be making a full video breakdown soon on how to run your first 100K and all the mistakes I wish I’d avoided earlier. But for now, I hope this long-form race recap gives you insight, confidence, and a realistic look at what a desert 100K truly feels like.