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Desert Rats 100k Race Breakdown

What a 15-Hour Finish Taught Me About Pacing, Fueling, and Letting Go of Fear

The Race, The Goal, The Reality

I went into the Desert Rats 100K with one goal: finish under 18 hours. What I didn't plan on was finishing in 15. On paper, that sounds like a success story. And it is. But as with every race, and every athlete I coach, the real education happened in the miles where things didn't go according to plan.

The Desert Rats 100K is held every April in Fruita, Colorado, a high desert landscape of slickrock buttes, rolling singletrack, and canyon rim trails overlooking the Colorado River. The course covers 62 miles with roughly 6,200 feet of elevation gain - not a mountain race by any stretch, but a deceivingly demanding one. The terrain is technical in places, punishing in others, and relentlessly runnable in a way that tempts you to go out too fast. I speak from experience.

This article is my honest breakdown, not a highlight reel. I'm sharing it as a coach and as an athlete, because I think the most useful thing I can offer other runners and coaches isn't a perfect race report. It's a real one.

Course Overview

Understanding the Desert Rats 100K course is essential context for everything that follows. Here's what you're working with:

• Total Distance: 100K (62 miles)

• Elevation Gain: ~6,200 feet

• Terrain Mix: Technical singletrack, sandy jeep roads, mesa rim trails, rolling hills

• Aid Station Spacing: Approximately every 5 miles on average

• Unique Feature: A Western Rim Loop in the back half - stunning and exposed

• Key Characteristic: Overall fast and runnable, which is both an opportunity and a trap

The first mile is a gently rolling dirt road - a warm-up that lulls you into a false sense of calm before depositing you onto tight, rocky singletrack where passing is nearly impossible. This matters a lot for pacing, and I'll come back to it.

Weather in April in Fruita can change fast. Temperatures ranged from the low 50s at the start to the high 70s mid-race before dropping again into the 60s in the evening. Add in two separate thunderstorms- one aggressive enough to turn the trails muddy and sticky - and you have a race that tested gear management as much as fitness.

Race at a Glance

Metric Goal Actual Notes
Avg Pace ~15 min/mile 14:36 min/mile Strong overall
Mile 1 Pace 11-12 min/mile 9:32 min/mile Too fast
Miles 48-63 ~15 min/mile 18-23 min/mile Significant fade
GI Issues None Mid-race onset Aid station over-fueling

What Went Right

1. Nutrition Was the Backbone of This Race

I ate every 20 minutes throughout the race, aided by watch intervals my husband set for me before the start. That decision, as simple as it sounds, was the single biggest factor in keeping me moving through mile 50.

My on-course nutrition included Stroopwafels (a personal favorite for their palatability at effort), watermelon and PBJ at aid stations, and on-course NAAK gels when Stroopwafels weren't available. The NAAK wasn't my favorite, unflavored and plain, but I ate it anyway because I knew the alternative was a caloric deficit I couldn't afford.

Coach Takeaway: Real food tolerance late in a race drops significantly. Practice eating on the run in training - not just gels - and know which foods your gut will accept under fatigue. Your race-day choices should already be tested.

For hydration, I alternated between water and Liquid IV electrolyte mix throughout the race. This prevented both overhydration and electrolyte imbalance, and I had zero cramping - a win I'll attribute directly to this strategy.

GI issues did appear around the mid-race point, and I suspect they were triggered by eating too much too quickly at my second-to-last aid station. When you're depleted, the instinct is to fuel aggressively. But the gut can only absorb so much at once - and overloading it at mile 50+ often does more harm than steady fueling would have.

Coach Takeaway: At aid stations late in a race, resist the urge to overeat in one sitting. Eat a moderate amount, then resume your eating intervals on the move. Spreading intake across 20-minute windows is more effective than cramming at stops.

2. Running the Uphills

I made the decision going in to run as much as possible, including uphills. On a course with this much rolling terrain, that discipline paid off in the early miles. Keeping forward motion, even at a shuffle, on gradual climbs prevents the cardiac drift that comes from excessive hiking, and it keeps your running muscles warm and engaged.

This is particularly relevant for athletes training for races with more elevation. If you've trained to run uphills, the Desert Rats is a course where that investment shows.

3. Crew and Aid Station Execution

My husband was invaluable. He set my nutrition alarms, managed my food at crew-accessible aid stations, and, critically, tracked me down on course during the first thunderstorm to deliver my rain jacket. Without that intervention, I would have spent a significant portion of the race cold and wet, which would have compounded the fatigue I was already building.

The lesson for athletes: your crew is part of your race plan. Brief them thoroughly. Give them a written list of what you need at each station and in what order. A prepared crew saves you cognitive load exactly when you have none left to spare.

Pace Breakdown by Segment

Segment Pace Physical Feel Coach Flag
Mile 1 9:32 min/mile Excited, strong Watch this
Miles 2-47 14 min/mile Strong, comfortable On track
Mile 48 18 min/mile Starting to struggle Watch this
Mile 53 22 min/mile Significant fatigue Watch this
Miles 54-62 15-23 min/mile Mental frustration, sluggish legs Watch this
Finish 15 min avg 3 hours under goal On track

What Went Wrong — And What I'd Do Differently

1. The First Mile Almost Undid the Whole Race

My first mile was 9:32. My goal pace was 11–12 minutes per mile. That's nearly 2 full minutes per mile faster than planned, and it set a physiological debt that I spent the back half of the race repaying.

I know exactly why it happened: it was my first race of the season. The energy of the start line, months of training finally releasing, a field of runners around me moving fast. Every experienced ultrarunner knows this feeling. And almost every experienced ultrarunner has made this mistake at least once.

Coach Takeaway: The first mile of a 100K is not a race. It is a warm-up. Your perceived effort at mile 1 should feel embarrassingly easy — not because you lack fitness, but because you're protecting miles 50–62. Go out with a purpose: to start slower than feels right.

By mile 48, my pace had slipped to 18 minutes. By mile 53, it was 22 minutes. The legs that had been so eager at mile 1 were now struggling to turn over. This is not a fitness problem. It is a pacing problem, and pacing problems are almost always fixable with discipline at the start.

2. The Last 12 Miles: When Confidence Becomes Anxiety

From mile 50 onward, I couldn't get into a comfortable run. My legs weren't cramping. They weren't dead in the traditional sense. But I couldn't generate turnover or momentum. Every attempt to pick up the pace felt like running through wet concrete.

What made this harder was the mental layer. I'd gone into the race thinking I could place in the top 25 among women. By mile 55, that goal had evaporated, and in its place came a creeping anxiety: what if I can't do Leadville? What if I wouldn't make the cutoffs there? This course has minimal elevation gain - if I'm struggling here, what does that say about a 100-miler at altitude?

Coach Takeaway: Catastrophic thinking in the final miles of a race is almost always fueled by low blood sugar, fatigue, and the narrow cognitive window that comes with being 50+ miles in. It is not accurate information about your fitness. It is a symptom of the effort.

The honest answer to that anxiety? Nothing about struggling at mile 55 of a 100K, after going out too fast and getting caught in two thunderstorms, tells you anything definitive about Leadville. What it tells you is that pacing matters, and that the body will collect its debt eventually.

My mental anchor in the pain cave is prayer. I have specific phrases I've leaned on long enough that they don't require conscious thought anymore- they just come when I need them. Late in the Desert Rats, somewhere in that brutal stretch between miles 55 and 62, that's what I had. Not a perfect pace strategy. Not a motivational phrase from a training book. Just something I'd practiced enough that it was available under pressure. Whatever your equivalent is- a mantra, a breath practice, a prayer, a person you run for- the key is that it has to be trained, not improvised. You don't find your mental anchor at mile 58. You bring it with you.

I didn't give up. I kept moving. But I want to name that mental experience because I think it's one of the most underreported parts of ultra racing, and coaches and athletes alike benefit from having language for it.

3. Gear: Always Pack the Rain Jacket

I left my rain jacket behind. In April in Colorado, that is a gamble. I lost. Twice.

The first storm hit by mile 7 and was aggressive - heavy rain, sticky mud, and dropping temps. My husband got to me on course and saved the situation, but that rescue wasn't part of the plan. The second storm mid-race was less severe but still uncomfortable.

Mandatory gear lists exist for a reason. Even on courses that don't require them, carry what the weather might demand. An extra 4 ounces of jacket weight is nothing compared to 20 miles of running wet and cold.

Key Lessons for Athletes and Coaches

Here is what I'm taking away from Desert Rats and what I'll be applying directly to how I coach:

On Pacing

• Start 90–120 seconds per mile slower than your goal race pace. It will feel wrong. Do it anyway.

• Use the first singletrack section to your advantage- the natural traffic forces you to slow down. Don't fight it.

• Check in with your perceived effort at mile 5. If you feel strong, you're probably going too fast.

On Nutrition

• Set a timer. Eat to the timer. Don't eat to hunger cues- by the time you're hungry in an ultra, you're already behind.

• Limit aid station eating to one moderate portion. Continue your interval fueling on the move.

• Know which foods your gut will tolerate late in a race. This is trained, not assumed.

On Gear

• Pack the rain jacket. Always.

• Brief your crew with a written plan- what you need, where, and in what order.

• Have contingency items at crew-accessible stations for weather changes.

On Mental Strategy

• Identify your catastrophic thinking triggers before race day and name them. When they show up, you'll recognize them for what they are.

• Have a mantra or a process goal for the final miles when outcome goals become irrelevant.

• Finishing 3 hours under your goal time is not a failure, even if the last 12 miles were hard.

Final Thoughts

I finished the Desert Rats 100K in 15 hours. I beat my goal by 3 hours. I ran my first mile too fast, got soaked by two thunderstorms, struggled through the final stretch, and had a minor crisis of confidence somewhere around mile 55. I also ate well for 15 hours, kept moving when I wanted to stop, and crossed the finish line.

That's racing. That's also coaching, holding both the wins and the lessons at the same time, without dismissing either.

If you're using this breakdown to prepare for your own race: take the pacing lesson seriously. It is the most expensive mistake in ultra running, and it's the most preventable. Everything else, the nutrition, the gear, the mental game, is manageable when you've protected your energy in the first miles.

Questions about training for your next 100K or planning your Desert Rats race strategy? Reach out to Boundless Coaching. We work with athletes at every level to build smart, sustainable race plans.

-Coach Alyssa Rodriguez

May 15, 2026