No Business 100 Race Report (2024 - Counter Clockwise)

To round out the 4x4, I headed west to Jamestown, TN, the starting place of the iconic No Business 100. This notable race was only recently founded in 2017 and quickly sells out every year when registration opens in January. The race consists of a single giant loop that weaves its way throughout Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area and the Daniel Boone National Forest. It even dips into Kentucy for about 50 miles.

I had been aware of this race for a number of years and finally put myself on the waitlist late August and got in before October appeared. I knew it would be a tough race and especially so coming at the end of my road trip of 100's, but I was excited for the raw beuaty which I had seen in pictures and videos of the race course.

Tired of sleeping in my car, I booked a cute treehouse Airbnb in Rugby, TN (about 40 minutes from the race start in Pickett State Park) for the night before. After checking in there early Thursday afternoon, I headed to Pickett for packet pickup and got there around 5pm.

I dropped off my drop bags (there were four allowed for the whole course and I used all of them), and enjoyed an epic pre-race meal with my buddy Ryan Kramer. We spoke with a number of other runners and stuck around for the pre-race briefing at 7pm.

        

By that time, I was tired and my little treehouse was calling my name so I dipped out. On the way back to my treehouse, I felt kind of nervous which is unusual for me before 100-mile races. I chalked it up to it being the fourth in a row, got my gear in order for the morning and slept well for about nine hours before the piercing sound of the alarm clock rose me from my slumber at 6am.

I had a light breakfast of a bagel with nutella and went through the normal pre-race routine including remembering to tape my nipples which is always a win and headed to the start.

This race had an 8am start and I was very happy with that. I've never understood why many 100's start so early if the cutoff is going to be midday or midafternoon the next day. 

At the race start, I found my buddies Ryan and Glenn and engaged in the usual pre-race chatter and nerves. As is usually the case, soon we heard a countdown and we were off.

The pack lurched forward onto a road heading out from the park and after about a mile on a dirt road we dipped into the woods on a singletrack trail and soon began the conga line of the century.

The first 8ish miles to Pickett A/S were filled with some of the most spectacular rock overhangs and technical trail I've seen anywhere in the country. It was frustrating to be so bunched up but it was trumped by the stunning sites of God's creation.

I was slightly shocked how most of the field just rolled through these epic views, barely stopping to look up. I felt like a tourist with how many pictures I was taking. I just wanted to soak it all in.

In these early miles, I ran with Crystal Thomas and Jeff Hollander (whom I would run significant portions of this race). This was Crystal's first 100 and she was green, but confident. Jeff was a No Business veteran and filled us in on what to expect.

Soon we reached an epic suspension bridge that looked like it would fall apart at any second and that was our cue for Pickett Aid Station (a Hoosier-themed paradise of foods).

Heading out of Pickett State Park and into the Big South Fork National Recreation Area, we had a few miles on gravel road which was a nice change from some of the more technical trails in the first 10 miles. 

Eventually, we hopped back onto some rolling singletrack and we were treated to some more incredible views and rock formations that just seem so out of place in Appalachia. I never would have been how gorgeous this part of the country was and I was blessed to be running here.

I was very happy in these early miles, too, because most of my knee pain from previous weeks had subsided. There was still a dull pain, but not the piercing pain on the last two weekends. It was a smart choice for this weekend that I started the race with the knee brace on instead of waiting till it flared up like last weekend at Uwharrie.

Soon, we popped out of the single track onto a gravel road again and a couple hundred yards later appeared the Sawmill A/S (mile 13.73). A lot more limited options than Pickett, but I filled up on some PB&J and coke, my go-tos recently, and some Huma gels for the next section.

From Sawmill A/S, I was just focused on making it to Bandy Creek (mm 25.07) where I had my first drop bag and mentally were I knew I would enjoy it being a quarter of the way there.

In this section, we got to admire some of the prettiest rock arches I have ever seen. I've been out to Arches National Park and that is beautiful, but some of these arches rival if not surpass the ones out west.

We were lucky to have some pleasant weather for race weekend. We knew it would heat up to around the mid-80s during the day, but that also meant that it wouldn't get too cold during the night.

Also in this section, we had our first proper climbs. Nothing too crazy, but some 500/600 feet climbs.

Around 20 miles or so, I linked up with Jeff Hollander again. He was full of stories from the last time he ran No Business and his running of the Southern States 200, an inaugural race this year on the Pinhoti trail in Alabama and Georgia. 

Together, we made good time to Bandy Creek A/S (mm 25.07) where he would see his crew (his Dad) and I would have a drop bag.

I've recently been a big fan of Sweet Tea for drop bags because it is such an easy way to get down a ton of sugar and get a little hit of caffiene. Bandy Creek was no exception.

On the way out of the aid station, one of the volunteers clipped some motivation onto my pack and it was a really sweet touch. It fell off my pack some time in the last 20 miles but it was nice to have a tangible sign of all the support of the volunteers.

Bandy Creek to Grand Gap (mm 29.89) flew by in no time as it was mostly downhill and rolling. It had some technical sections with rocks and ladders, but nothing too crazy. It was nice to enjoy the temperatures cooling off as well.

I did notice by the time I got to Grand Gap that I was a little behind on calories. I've run enough of these that I can feel when its coming on and so I stuff my face at Grand Cap with PB&J, quesadillas, and anything else that looked palatable.

Leaving Grand Gap headed to Duncan Hollow (37.67), I really started pushing hard because I wanted mentally to make it to Duncan Hollow without having to use a headlamp, though I had my headlamp just in case.

About a mile out of the aid station, we came across my favorite view of the race. While other racers flew by, I stopped to soak it in because these beautiful moments are truly the reasons we do these races.

About three miles out of Duncan Hollow, while making really good time, I came across a runner from North Carolina, Daniel Holmes, vomiting on the side of the trail. Wade Kress, a local from Tennessee, was there with him.

Wade and I decided to walk in the final miles to Duncan Hollow with Daniel as he didn't have a light and it was soon going to be dark. Daniel claimed he had thrown up 18 times, which might be a record.

About a half mile out of the aid station, one of his running buddies came by and took over care of him and Wade and I carried onto Duncan Hollow.

Wade and I would cross paths practically the whole rest of the race and he would end up finishing about 10 minutes behind me. We never exchanged that many words but it was nice to see him every number of hours and to know that we were feeling the same pain and that we were going to make it through.

Duncan Hollow was a lonely moment for me. It was 6:45pm, the sun had gone down, I was feeling kind of bummed that my flow had left me as I had walked with another runner for a couple miles, and I had no crew while everyone and their mother seemed to be at this aid station.

I got my drop bag, grabbed an extra headlamp and a buff and gloves for the night though I didn't think I would need them, smashed a sweet tea and headed down the trail for this long 9-mile section to Laurel Hill (mm 46.67). 

From Duncan Hollow, we had a steep downhill section with a bunch of loose rock and gravel just waiting to tear up runner's feet. Once at the bottom, there were a ton of creek crossings for the next five miles or so combined with two big climbs before we reached Laurel Hill.

Near the bottom of the steep descent, I linked up with Willy Utrilla from Commerce, GA. It was a real pleasure to run with him for a number of miles to keep my mind off the pain. 

We chatted about 100's in general, but a lot about Cruel Jewel 100 in Georgia, which I've had a race crush on for years and want to do this upcoming May. Willy filled me in on just how much it sucks and I was hooked.

In this section, I had two not-so-great slips while crossing creeks. The first forced me to get my right food wet. The second caused me to slam my right hand  into a rock and sprain my thumb/wrist a little bit. I can still feel it's not quite right as I am writing this the Wednesday after the race.

Either way, Willy kept me moving and eventually took off from me on the last climb up to Laurel Hill A/S (mm 46.67). But by the grace of God, I soon reached this oasis.

Hands-down, this aid station goes down in history as one of the best I've been too. In the middle of nowhere, an incredible spread of food, super encouraging volunteers and a ton of positive energy. They even clipped their aid station pin onto my back.

I filled up on perogies, potatoes and soup here and I filled up on good energy for my soul.

We had seven and a half miles to Ledbetter (mm 54.28) and then another six to Blue Heron (mm 60.52), where the race really starts. 

To be completely honest, I remember very little of this section all the way to Blue Heron, other than that I ran a good chunk out of Laurel Hill with Jeff Hollander. This man is a machine, and it helped me to just stare at his feet and keep moving.

I also have no pictures on my phone except for a wooden staircase which I found humorous at the time because it was constructed to go over a fallen tree on the trail. But one would think it's much easier to just remove a chunk of the tree. Either way, I followed the new trail on the side of this staircase because I was not confident in a lot of the wooden structures on this course (most had seen better days).

This section to Blue Heron was net downhill and I remember beginning to feel it in my knees and my feet. The consistent technicality of the trail and necessity to step on jagged rocks and roots was getting to me.

The final downhill stretch to the Big South Fork River (which you have to cross to get to Blue Heron) was just as gnarly as the section coming out of Duncan Hollow and my feet were not enjoying it. 

Eventually we made it to the river which was surprisingly refreshing for my tired and bruised feet. On the other side lay Blue Heron (mm 60.52), a wonderful aid station and an extra six mile loop we had to complete for distance purposes.

Jeff stopped at his crew van for a 20-minute nap but I knew I would see him back on the trail. I, on the other hand, went up to the aid station and as luck would have it ran into my buddy Ryan Kramer. I hadn't seen him since the start and did not expect to see him the whole race as he was predicting a sub-30 finish.

We left the aid station together along with another fella who I can't remember his name, but credits me with saving his race for kicking him out of a blanket at Laurel Hill A/S. I really didn't do much except ask him one question: "Can you walk 20-minute miles?" He realized, as most of do with a clear mind and willing heart, that we can finish if we JUST. KEEP. MOVING.

The Blue Heron loop would be gorgeous during the day I figure, but at night, it was honestly a bit annoying. A ton of ladders and technical sections with cracks in the big rocks and all. Again, I think it was just my headspace at the time that made it not super enjoyable. My headspace plus drenched and crying feet.

About halfway through the loop, I let Ryan and this other fella go ahead and I took a 15-minute nap. I was just so tired. I remember setting my alarm and closing my eyes, and just like that, my alarm was going off.

Those miles were slow. From aid station check in to aid station leaving, I was clocked at 2:43 for that 6 mile loop. That includes aid station time, but still a little ridiculous.

My second pass through Blue Heron (mm 66.73) was much quicker and soon I forded the Big South Fork and headed up that steep hill that was heel to traverse down a few hours earlier.

Right near the top where we turned back onto singletrack trail, Jeff Hollander caught me again. It was so helpful to run with him in this section which happened to be the longest of the race.

The sunrise came as it always does and we kept moving. A little jogging here and there to spice things up, but a lot of walking. 

Jeff was having a tough time staying awake and so we kept talking to keep his mind engaged. We talked about literally everything. I remember at one point him saying: "Now let me tell you about having children... They're expensive..." and then he drifted off again.

By the grace of God, we made it to Piney Butte A/S (mm 75.92). I filled up on the usuals and stocked up on Huma Gels for the last quarter of the race. I was genuinely shocked how easy the gels were going down and how much my body craved the sugar so I kept supplying it.

We left together and started picking people off on the next section to Spring Branch (mm 81.44). It was gorgeous and I just wanted to soak it all in. Jeff was moving a little faster than me so he took off here and it was just me willing myself to take each step one at a time.

Before we knew it, we were at the Spring Branch aid station. The volunteers were so positive and filled me up on a bunch of tasty breakfast goodies including 4 pancakes drenched in syrup.

I could begin to smell the haw of the finish, but I knew it would be hours till I was there and I was dreaded this next section.

From Spring Branch (mm 81.44) to Peters Mountain (87.19), it was straight gravel road. This would have been fun earlier in the race to really run, but it was difficult even to walk at this point. The fall colors on the side of the road were gorgeous, however.

While I was sitting on the side of the road talking to my mom on the phone for extra motivation, you best believe it, Jeff came trucking down the road. Somehow, I got in front of him while he took care of bathroom duties.

Together, the miles passed by and we were soon at Peters Mountain (87.19). This is the last place I would see Jeff as he made a quick pit stop and took off. He ended up finishing about an hour in front of me which tells you how slow I went in those last fourteen miles.

The volunteers at Peters Mountain were so kind and understanding as my body lay in a heap before them on the ground. With veggie chips, sweet tea and espresso beans, I had the sufficient energy and motivation to persevere.

I knew I just needed to make it to Great Meadow Aid Station at mile 91.42 and I would truly be in the final stretch (sub 10 miles).

We again were back in Gorge territory and this section was a mix between hiking on the AT and bushwhacking through a Hawaiian jungle. The heavens also opened up on us which was unexpected a little annoying at the end of the race to be honest.

But the miles kept ticking up and soon I made it to Great Meadow A/S which I totally forgot was optional. I have never seen this before in a 100 but the aid station was on the other side of the river and we had the option to scream our numbers across and keep going down the trail if we didn't want to cross the river for aid.

Luckily, I got there at the same time as this other runner, Benjy, whose pacer volunteered to get us food and ford the river for us. Praise God for Benjy's pacer, you made my day.

I now just had one aid station left to go and even though it was only six miles away, it felt like the longest trail section of my life.

I basically walked this whole section and took many breaks on rocks and fallen trees. Even though they were wet, it felt better than being on my bruised and sore hamburger meat feet. 

About a mile out from the aid station, I had a jump scare with a black bear who was peacefully minding his business about 40 yards up the trail. I had heard they were prevalent out here and it was kind of iconic running into one at the end of the race. The second he saw me, though, he was gone.

After two and a half hours of deathmarching through the beautiful forest, I saw a cementary and knew I must be close to the Blevins Cemetary A/S (mm 97.35).

The volunteers here were so gracious and cool and made me the best hamburger I have ever had at an aid station. I usually don't crave burgers, but with all the fixings, I couldn't deny them the opportunity and I enjoyed every last bite.

While about 10 people passed me while I was sitting on my ass in the aid station, I knew it was time to move. And finally, a little later than usual for most 100's, my kick hit and I was gone down the trail.

I just wanted to be done so horribly bad and I ran most of those last four miles and passed a ton of people. It felt like just prolonging the inevitable to not run and so I gunned it.

As a finishing touch to a brutal course, we dipped once again down to the river where you had to get your feet wet and then had a massive climb up onto the ridge line.

Up there, we linked up again with where we had started the race on the singletrack with the conga line and I knew I was truly close.

Before I knew it, I was on a dirt road and it popped open to where my car was parked on a grass field and I knew I had less than a half mile.

I turned the corner into camp, enjoyed every moment of all the family and friends cheering, and performed the usual finish line stunt.

After chatting with Brian and Shelly, the two amazing RD's, and taking a requisite finish line photo, I crashed into a chair at the finish line and was comatose for a while.

My official finish time was 32:47:28. Given it was my fourth in a row and a tough one, I am more than happen with the finish and the time. Sitting in that chair, I finally felt I had earned my rest. And that, more than a lot of other reason, is a huge reason I do these races. Life can just be too comfortable otherwise.

In retrospect, I would wear shoes with more cushion because of how technical this course is and in a year with more water crossings, I would definitely consider changing socks and shoes which I never did this year.

Thank you to Ultranaut Running, Brian and Shelly Gajus, all the volunteers and the beautiful parks of Tennessee and Kentucky for kicking my ass and being an epic finish to the 4x4.