Cruel Jewel 100 Race Report by Harrison Greenberg
Photos: Emily Cameron
The Cruel Jewel 100 is easily the hardest East Coast 100 and one of the toughest in the US. It boasts 106 miles after a course re-route in 2023, with over 33,000 feet of climbing and descending.
After running the 50-miler last year, and experiencing the trails and community for the first time, I decided to come back and run the 100. Understanding the intensity of the race, I hired a coach and recruited some of the best people I know to crew and pace for me.
Training for my first 100, let alone a big mountain race, after coming off of a marathon training block for a missed sub-3 effort was an intense shift. Leaning heavily on the speed work from the end of last year, the plan was to get back to the trails as soon as possible and get mountain running back into the picture.
I started working with Elizabeth Azze in January and she kept me focused on quality vs quantity, strength training in the gym, and stretching/mobility. We put in solid mileage throughout the training block and although the overall block was relatively short, I was able to complete multiple 30mi+ days and a 100k on Mt. Tammany. Cruel Jewel is notorious for taking DNFs on the back half of the course and the goal was to start slow, push starting around mile 70, pass as many runners as possible and finish strong.
Pre-Race: New York City to Blue Ridge, GA
Laura, my dad and I landed in Atlanta late Wednesday night and drove to Blue Ridge, where our cabin for the weekend was near Camp Morganton, the start and finish of the 100 mi race. The rest of the crew, Felipe, Ting, and Freddy arrived Thursday afternoon and we began to pour over the race preparation. Reviewing all nutrition, gear, and labeled bags, we discussed the cadence for every time I came into the aid station – what was necessary to have in advance and key checklist items to discuss (review feet, am I eating/drinking enough, do I need caffeine, more clothing, less clothing, etc.) Once we all felt like we had answered every outstanding item, we headed for one more sleep before the noon start on Friday.
The next day, we packed up and headed to Camp Morganton. The noon starting time provides for a fairly relaxed morning of final gear check and packing the first segment necessities. The goal was to hit a specific range of carbs per hour and each segment pack provided the ‘necessary’ carbs based on time targets. These targets were developed through training and while none of my training runs had gone longer than 16 hours, I felt confident the mix of food would allow for enough palate diversity to eat consistently.
At the start line, we met back up with Sebastian who we run with locally in New York, and caught up about the final race preparations. Discussed a few nuances of the trail but largely there were going to be a lot of unknowns for both of us – for him, it was going to be his first time on these trails and for me, Cruel Jewel was my first 100 mi attempt.
Start to Skeenah Gap (29.5mi)
The race starts with Sarah (RD) drawing a line in the gravel and all the runners starting down first a gravel, then a paved road to the trailhead. My race strategy was to start slow or at least as slow as possible and push in the final 30ish miles so these first few sections were as controlled as possible. Started conversations with runners near me and steadily hiked into the forest. Having reviewed these early sections via recap videos, my focus on to power hike the very runnable first 8 miles of the race to keep my heart rate low and hit my carb targets. We had a long day (two days) ahead of us and I was cognizant that the race could easily be over if I pushed too hard during these early miles.
The first aid for the crew was at Old Dial Road which would then set off a string of aid stations I was lucky enough to have support at. I came into the aid and met my crew just minutes after they arrived (which I found out later, my Dad would have preferred a Porsche on the backroads). The aid station they created was perfectly laid out with all previously discussed options and we went through the checklist quickly to ensure a fast in and out. This part of the process was vital later in the race when my memory was having difficulty grasping the necessities list. From here, I was told my pace was faster than projected, and while it surprised me, the weather was excellent and I was locked in so it made sense. I chose to power-hike the entire next sections, keeping my HR low and steady.
While there were many challenges later in the race, these early decisions saved my legs for the punishing climbs and descents soon to come. Wilscot Gap came and went and I arrived at Skeenah ready to take on the first night. The plan was to change into a new pack already equipped with my night gear to ensure nothing was missing during the start of the Dragons Spine, a notoriously difficult section that runners completed twice in full and many experienced for the first time at night. At this point, my mind was already showing signs of weakness but with over 70 miles to go, there was no time to rest. Saddled with the new pack, I trotted back onto the trail with the first major challenge of the day right in front of me.
Skeenah Gap (29.5) to Wolf Creek (46.4mi)
Headlamp on and the sun going down, I hit the trail and was approaching the first full night of movement in my ultra-running tenure. In the months leading up to Cruel Jewel, I had hired a coach, listened to tens of hours of podcasts, watched YouTube videos of previous runners, and consumed books on mental strategy/training to combat the periods of being down. Guess what this guaranteed me? Jack shit. Nothing was going to prepare me for running through the night until I did it. I needed to lock it down to attack this section knowing I would have to turn it around and do it all over again. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to. Post Fish Gap, Fire Pit included a descent of Coosa and it kicked the shit out of me. By the time I got to my crew at Wolf Creek, I was a zombie. Mentally I was having trouble wrapping my brain around doing that section again, let alone completing more than 58 miles. In the dark, the hills are relentless, and without switchbacks, you never see any other runners, unless they are running at you having turned around, completed Poor Decisions, and were on their way back. (Part of the overall mental fatigue came from seeing runners headed back – I was unprepared for being okay with where I was in the race and was jealous they were so far ahead. Seems ridiculous but after 13hrs+ of tough trail, your mind becomes weak.)
Running into Wolf Creek, I went right to my crew, handed my dad my phone to charge and Laura, Freddy, and Ting started to force-feed me calories. In these moments, I find that calories, forward progress, and not speaking dark thoughts are necessary to keep your head in the race. After another bite of banana, I headed out for the second bib punch, expecting these next miles to be a slog and to confirm my desire to pull the plug. On paper, the out and back are relatively easy – 2.7 mi, 1k gain, and right back with 2.7 mi, 1k loss. I knew that and needed a spark that was going to ignite my mind back into this race. Leaning into the ease of the trail, I tapped into the voice that had been quiet all day, the one that pushed me to sign up for the race, that drove me to get up all those early mornings and that told me to attack solo miles throughout winter in upstate New York. We had trained too hard, sacrificed too much and I wanted to finish the mission too badly to experience that level of weakness this early in the race, especially when my body was still moving well. The internal conversation helped. I hit the bib punch and weight forward, I ran the next 2.7 miles back toward Wolf Creek getting back to the bustling aid station in what felt like minutes. Going right back to where my crew was, they were surprised I was back already and smiling again. We were back. I crushed half a ramen, brushed my teeth, and via a stream of consciousness, discussed race strategy in advance of picking up my pacer, Felipe, at Wilscot Gap 73.6. I no longer cared about the Dragons Spine and was ready to get home.
Wolf Creek (51.8) to Stanley Gap (85mi)
The second time on this section was smooth and while I was about 30 minutes slower overall on the way back, my legs felt great and my mind was back in the race. Coosa went quickly and I started to run the down and flat sections more frequently while listening to an audiobook. Arrived at the Fire Pit to a mosh of runners looking dazed and slumped into camp chairs. The warmth of the fire and chair was extremely inviting but one of my mantras rang true “Don’t Die in the Chair”. I took one more look at those staring blankly into the flames and decided to refill my water and keep it moving. I hope they find the strength to continue. The night continued and the only thing I could see was the bleak circle of light at my feet. As I was still solo, there was a lot of out-loud self-talk and conversation till the daybreak. By the time the morning was bright, I was feeling strong and texted my group that it was time to get some long-awaited kills. Running into Skeenah Gap, I was happy to see Felipe had his gear on to start running, a full section early. Felipe had trained hard this winter and originally was planning to start at Wilscot, but he wanted to get started now and I was ready.
The next few sections flew by, we were catching up on the previous day, passing runner after runner, we would run the flat / down and power hike the up. We were starting to build confidence that a finish before dark may be possible but knew there were still a lot of miles left and we needed to keep reserves – especially for Weaver. We saw my crew at Old Dial aid station which should have reminded me that the next 5.5 miles would be road but after almost 28 hours of running, I had completely forgotten. By this point, directly below my right shin, above the ankle, I had developed some discomfort but nothing alarming (my first major mistake of the day). After a short run on the road, the pounding emphasized the right leg issues and forced me to walk the remaining section on the exposed sunny road. Trying to power hike into Stanley Gap at 85, the last aid station I would see my crew, I was suffering badly. Any weight I put on the right foot sent shock waves of pain up my leg and directly into my brain. I told Felipe that I needed a few things and that, respectfully, no one was to ask me any questions as I needed to try to remediate the pain without inquiries. After using the massage gun on my calf and some weed sport directly on the painful area, I decided we needed to keep moving. We had accepted we would not finish before dark and had the headlamps ready and charged for the final section of the race. Quick how things can change.
Stanley Gap (85mi) to Camp Morganton (103.9mi)
Pain. Every single step was painful. Once we got out of earshot from my crew, I couldn’t stop cussing and praying that the pain would subside. It didn’t and I was frustrated. Remarkably, my legs were in great shape and were turning over but I couldn’t run without sharp pain and decided since I didn’t know if it was soft tissue or a fracture, it wasn’t worth losing months over worsening the injury. With this being said, DNF’ing was never an option. We had time to grind it out and if the last 20 miles took 18 hours, we were going to take it. We got to the trailhead that started the Weaver section, descending to the second to last aid station.
Death marching up to Stanley Gap with Felipe leading the way
Few points on Weaver – it will break you if you let it. The entire time you run this section you are asking “Why the fuck is this part of the race?”. It just is and you just have to get down and get back up. The climb is exposed, gets hot and while punishing, I don’t believe it is as completely pointless as publicized. The miles may be but finding the capacity to get back up gives you something powerful to look back at. We arrived at Deep Gap just in time for more rain and thunderstorms, putting me right back into my race last year, having gotten to Deep Gap at around the same time with the same weather. Mentally something clicked and I took the climb out of Deep Gap on the loop hard, passing four runners along the way. Within a few miles, the push faded but with Felipe a few hundred yards ahead of me, I was given a target and with my leg on fire, kept chasing him down. When we finally hit the last hole punch, I punched twice and we headed back for the finish line. The last road section was brutal as the pain was almost unbearable on the pavement but we continued to hike until I started to run downhill slowly. Finally hitting the soft trail, I remembered how close we were and continued to dig deep, now running again.
As we approached the finish, we could hear the cheers and cowbells familiar at every aid station throughout the day. I took a minute on the trail to reflect on the experience and thanked Felipe for his heroic pacing throughout the afternoon. Over 10 hours running after crewing most of day one was an epic feat and I was deeply grateful. We hit Camp Morganton Road and of course, one more runner was taking their time getting to the finish. Unfortunately for them, we sprinted to the finish and I picked it up and finished strong, crossing the line of my first 100-mile race at 34 hours 30 minutes, and 43 seconds.
Sarah handed me the largest belt buckle in the game and I was officially a 100-mile finisher!
Note on my Crew, Coach and the Race Directors
These types of races are extremely intense and require a TON of support both prior to and during the event. My crew was under a ton of pressure all race to be at numerous aid stations in a timely manner, set up gear, wait for me and then head out to the next. All the while staying positive and keeping my mind engaged. They kept the supply of Uncrustables at an almost unsustainable level and were flawless in their execution. My finish does not happen without them. Thank you, Dad, Laura, Felipe, Ting and Freddy, for your selfness, compassion and commitment to my race finish.
From an event perspective, the aid station workers and race volunteers are elite at this race. Many of them are previous 100 and 50 mi finishers and they know how to keep runners moving through the aid stations with words of encouragement, motivation and proper shit-talking, when necessary. Sarah and Sean (the Race Directors) have continued to create one of the most unique race communities I have ever experienced. The runners who sign up for this event all feel like they are cut from the same cloth and my conversations with many of the athlete only confirmed this. I’m very appreciative of their continued work in making this event so special and I am proud to be apart of the finisher community for both of their races.
To my coach, Elizabeth Azze at Mountain Peak Fitness, we started this training block on 1/8/24 with a note that said “4 months until the hardest, to one of the hardest 100 milers in the country. Let’s see if we can perform magic 🙂” and we fucking did. Your week in week out training plan helped keep me healthy and sane while managing a challenging work balance. Throughout the plan, there was not one point of question that we were on the right track and I am thankful to have had the opportunity to train with one of the most professional coaches in the sport.
What went well…
Pre-race planning and crew selection was perfect. With this being the first 100, the gear list could get very long but I felt like the gear we had was all potentially necessary based on the expected weather. The crew executed perfectly at every aid station and took live feedback when we needed to adjust. Little things like a cold bottle or additional food options were handled on the fly and helped tremendously.
Nutrition, hydration and electrolytes were on point the entire day. Using 3 – 4, 500ml bottles through the race was far more efficient than using a bladder and allowed me to mix and match different type of hydration or keep an empty bottle for a longer section. The multiple bottles also allowed for better monitoring of how much I was drinking. Nutrition targets were a bit high later in the race but having the right options to be able to adjust was key. Granola bars early faded into pb & j’s when my jaw was tired from chewing hard food. Electrolytes were consistent with salt mg targets per hour and allowed my stomach to stay strong the entire race – no nausea issues kept my mind off my stomach.
Racing my own race. Due to the shortened training block and never having ran throughout the night in full, there were a number of unknowns associated with the race but keeping to my strengthen such as power hiking and approaching the race in a thoughtful manner, my legs felt strong the entire race and have led to a quicker recovery (so far).
Pre-tapping my feet was a huge benefit. I brought a book called ‘Fixing Your Feet’ and it is a necessary read for all runners. I left the race without a single blister and all my toe nails. I have an extreme appreciation for preventive foot care as opposed to reactive foot care as often when a blister forms, it can be too late to stop the pain.
What I learned or could improve…
If something hurts, solve it as soon as possible. I left my right leg alone for took long after feeling initial pain and deeply paid the price. This could have been prevented by taking additional time at the aid station to address the problem rather than gutting it out.
