The Western States Killing Machine, Part Three: Deepening the Groove

As late June approaches, so many of us are again drawn back to the raw, unyielding challenge of the original 100-mile odyssey from Olympic Valley to Auburn, California — the Western States 100.

A decade ago, I wrote a two-part series for iRunFar, “The Western States Killing Machine,” capturing the essence of a race that’s as much a legend as it is a test of human limits.

In Part One, I dissected the course’s uniquely brutal ingredients — high-altitude climbs, scorching canyons, quad-busting descents, and relentless runability that can punish, if not taunt, even the world’s strongest runners. Ann Trason, the 14-time champion, put it bluntly: “If you fight this course, it will eat you alive.”

Part Two, “The Marble in the Groove,” contained distilled wisdom from veterans like Trason and Tim Twietmeyer, whose five wins and 25 sub-24-hour finishes embody the art of reverence, discipline, and steeled grit needed to tame the beast.

The series has been widely embraced by ultrarunners for its vivid depiction of the Western States 100’s challenges and practical strategies, by both mid-packers and elites alike. Many top-10 finishers and several podium runners over the past decade, including Tyler Green (2nd, 2021 and 2023), Adam Peterman (1st, 2022) have cited the wisdom of “The Killing Machine” as crucial to their preparation and strategy at the granddaddy of 100-mile trail races.

But while starkly dissecting its formidable and tricky challenges and brutal punishments, the cautionary tales of Western States within “The Killing Machine” have, over the years, had an inadvertent effect: they’ve led many runners to race with excessive caution, gripped by fear, timidity, and rigid pacing.

Spooked by tales of blow-ups from reckless early efforts, numerous runners — especially rookies — adopted overly conservative strategies, tiptoeing through the early miles at paces even slower than their training. While this approach ensured survival and earned them a finish, it caused many to fall well short of their race-day potential in both performance and enjoyment. At worst, it backfired: running too slowly disrupted trained biomechanics, causing muscles and joints to stiffen and fatigue prematurely, while the nervous system, unaccustomed to such restraint, grew frazzled and ballooned fatigue.

This fear-driven rigidity dulled performance and robbed runners of the joy and flow that define a great Western States experience, leaving them battered rather than buoyed at the finish line.

A decade after “The Killing Machine,” this article introduces three evolved tactics to help runners not just survive, but thrive, at Western States:

1. Finding ease with a sustainable, efficient stride;
2. Maintaining a flexible fueling plan with backup options; and
3. Harnessing the gift of runnable downhills.

Gleaned from a decade of fresh insights, these approaches — rooted in balance, adaptability, and strategic aggression — empower runners to maximize performance and joy, transforming the cherished opportunity of racing Western States into a transcendent journey from Olympic Valley to Auburn.

Tactic #1: Plan Your Race, and Then Race Your Plan — Without Fear

“The Killing Machine” laid bare the teasing and punishing nature of the 100-mile Western States course. It contained first-hand tales of runners — including future cougar winners (1) — charging out too hard, fast, and undisciplined, only to spectacularly implode in the Sierra Nevada’s unforgiving canyons.

Those stories of blow-ups, from runners ignoring pace to crumbling under heat and hubris, were meant to caution, not paralyze. Understandably, the overwhelming takeaway for many has been fear.

And while a good helping of fear is useful to temper the ambitions of the sport’s elite professionals, most rookie amateurs, spooked by visions of their own meltdowns, often arrive at the start in Olympic Valley “scared slow.” A substantial number of runners — many of whom have endured a nearly decade-long lottery wait — tiptoe through the early miles at a pace far below their training.

While disciplined pacing is critical, this overly timid approach can backfire. Muscles, joints, and nervous systems conditioned for months if not years in a comfortable and sustainable running stride in training aren’t used to this sluggish crawl.

When we run too slowly, two things often happen. First, we absorb too much energy. Efficient running involves a push-off, followed by a landing, where energy is absorbed and held in the tissues for a fraction of a second. When comfortable and relaxed, that energy is returned to the ground to propel. But if we run too conservatively, that restraint often results in absorbing that impact energy into the body’s muscles, bones, and joints. Paradoxically, running too slowly can feel more fatiguing to the tissues than running faster using a more comfortable and efficient stride.

Secondly, hyper-conservative running changes running mechanics in a way that decreases tissue mobility. Running too slowly decreases knee and hip motion. Lost is the natural stretching that occurs from a fluid and open stride.

Billy’s Bane

A powerful story from the mid-pack came from budding ultrarunner and filmmaker (and future Western States Board Member), Billy Yang. Running his first Western States in 2015, he came into the race fit, strong, and experienced. In addition to a string of strong 100-kilometer finishes, Yang had recently conquered the grueling, unforgiving Angeles Crest 100 Mile — an event generally regarded as slower, if not even tougher and hotter than Western States — in an impressive 24 hours flat.

On race day, his own race-day film documented his early race approach through the high country, which he noted was “very easy and very conservative.” According to his account, he entered Duncan Canyon aid station at mile 24 in five hours, 25 minutes elapsed, and in 215th place. Mathematically, this equates to precisely a 24-hour pace: a realistic goal.

The only issue was that Yang didn’t train to run this slowly. Biomechanically, it seems, he was holding back.

At Duncan, he noted to his crew that his “hamstrings are feeling twingy.” A mile outside the aid station, he began to feel quadriceps pain. By mile 37, he said, “I’m worried about my quads … and we haven’t even gotten to the Canyons yet…”

Yang was strong. He trained and prepared superbly, and he approached the run with reverence and respect. But what may have caused his struggle was not hubris but, possibly, overabundant caution. I suspect his pace plan was much slower than usual, resulting in altered running mechanics that absorbed too much energy into his quads and failed to provide relaxing mobility to his hips and hamstrings.

Yang slowed and struggled. While he ultimately endured, when he crossed the finish line at Placer High School in Auburn, his silver ambitions had to settle for bronze.

Strategy 1: Find Ease

I gravitate to this two-word phrase found within Hal Koerner’s “Field Guide to Ultrarunning,” the two-time cougar-winner’s helpful book: “find ease.”

It’s a beautifully-simple-yet-holistic pacing strategy he recommends that encompasses two elements: running with minimal effort, and feeling good.

Indeed, many runners bent on “conservative” pacing may find their effort easy, but simply not feel good. This was the overwhelming feedback from Billy throughout his 2015 race: conservative running, yet his legs were unusually stiff and painful early.

Finding ease is about finding both a sustainable effort as well as the most fluid, light and quick, feel-good stride possible: a stride honed not just the past several months of training, but over years of running. Finding ease should begin in training, finding and grooving at a sustainable “all-day” effort and stride biomechanics. By doing so you can establish — then train for — a race-day pace and stride that is both sustainable and efficient.

And while race-day discipline is crucial, “super-conservative” running can easily stiffen joints, overly fatigue muscles, and frazzle a nervous system unaccustomed to prolonged, unnatural restraint.

“The Killing Machine” doesn’t just punish the reckless; it also grinds down those who let fear dictate their pace, leaving them battered and discouraged when they could have thrived with balanced confidence.

Finding ease takes a both discipline and a healthy dose of courage and faith. To take what the body and course, in unison, is willing to give. No more, but as importantly, no less.

Tactic #2: Have a Nutrition Plan, and a Back-Up Plan

Nutrition and hydration are make-or-break elements in enduring “The Killing Machine.”

Part One underscores the race’s brutal demands — extreme heat, altitude, and relentless terrain — that rapidly deplete energy stores, making consistent calorie and fluid intake essential to avoid bonking or dehydration.

Part Two emphasizes practical strategies, like Trason’s relentless nutrition plan, noting: “You’ve got to eat early and often. Don’t wait until you’re hungry, because by then it’s too late.”

Indeed, one of the most robust studies of Western States finishers, the Stuempfle et al. study (2011) found that the strongest association to finishing was the quantity of calories ingested early and often. Conversely, those that under-fueled were more likely to drop before Auburn (2).

No doubt, having a rock-solid nutrition plan of what, how, and when is crucial. But as many runners over 50-plus years of Western States have discovered,”The Killing Machine” cares little about even the best laid nutrition plans. Besides the enormity of the distance, Western States presents a unique landscape of wild variation, not just in heights and depths of the canyons, but profound extremes of elevation, temperature, and humidity — all in one day. All of these variables can wreak havoc on even the most robust, iron-clad stomachs.

Current nutrition trends at major events like Western States are seeing a full pendulum swing from relatively low- to astonishingly high-carbohydrate fueling. Some athletes, notably the reigning Leadville 100 Mile champion and course record holder, David Roche, currently promote fueling upward of 150 grams of carbohydrates per hour or more.

You won’t find Western States legends — many of whom raced carrying maple syrup bottles, some of which I’m sure contained actual maple syrup — splitting hairs about what, or how to fuel. Simply, you must fuel early and often to run your best.

But what should happen if your stomach begins to outright reject your fuel sources of choice? If your favorite race fuel suddenly becomes your most hated, what do you do?

Didrik’s Digestive Dilemma

In the 2016 Western States, I paced Didrik Hermansen, a Norwegian ultrarunner who — coming off wins at the 2015 Lavaredo Ultra Trail and a record-setting 2016 Transgrancanaria earlier that spring — entered Western States as a strong contender for the cougar.

I was slated to pace him from the American River at mile 78, excited to run a contender to the finish. To my elation he arrived at the river in third place, just minutes behind then-second, and eventual winner, Andrew Miller (3).

Yet as we prepared to cross the river, he confided some troubling news: “I’ve been vomiting.” As we crossed the American River by rope, I suggested that he abstain from solid food, and switch to ginger ale diluted with some water. At the far side of the river, he grabbed a handful of fruit — honey dew and watermelon — and gulped it down.

We started up the climb to Green Gate aid station. A minute later, he doubled over, vomiting. I stood beside him, both empathetically and impatiently. After a minute of retching, he was moving again. I handed him back his bottle of ginger ale, and implored patience.

He hiked and ran strongly up the two-mile climb to the Green Gat. But once at the aid station, more melon. A mile later, a hard stop on the trail, doubled-over, vomiting again. Another minute lost in standing. Then, to his credit a slow shuffle gradually ramped back to a top-10 pace.

Five miles later, we arrived at the Auburn Lake Trails aid station, at mile 85, and I swear both the ghost of Wendell Robie and his horse rolled in their graves when he reached for another handful of mixed fruit and downed it! And you know what they say about insanity? Just past the creek crossing: another wretched stop.

Owing to Walmsley’s wrong turn and subsequent DNF, he was currently in second place, but at this point, hearing a distant cheer for third place behind us — a hard-charging Jeff Browning — was impending and inevitable.

Finally, with the kind, visiting stranger clinging to second place, I lost my patience:

“Dude, you HAVE TO STOP EATING THE FRUIT!”

I implored him to only drink the ginger ale. He relented. Taking small sips, he stabilized. And, like a big rig semi-truck, he gradually gained steam until he was cruising the ups and flats, and flat-out crushing the downhills. All this on roughly 50 calories per hour.

By the time we arrived at the Highway 49 aid station (4), he had a full head of steam so strong it was shame we had to stop. I commandeered his bottle and fetched another ginger ale refill. Meanwhile, Hermansen stumbled toward a large crowd, assembled on the aid station perimeter. Behind the rope was François D’Haene, at the time a two-time (and future four-time) UTMB champion, who just days prior withdrew from Western States due to injury.

Bottle filled, I approached the fans to fetch Hermansen for the homestretch, when I heard Hermansen tell D’Haene about his nausea. “You should eat something,” D’Haene started. I whisked the M2 hopeful out of the aid station and up the trail before he could put anything in his mouth.

Hermansen once again sipped ginger ale, gained gradual steam up to Pointed Rocks, then flat-out obliterated the descent to No Hands Bridge, at mile 97, running so quickly it required a Zone 3 effort for his pacer to keep up.

One more up and over at Robie Point, mile 99, and it was a triumphant second-place victory lap for the Norwegian runner, who fervently favored fruit, but settled for a slow drip of corn syrup to earn a podium finish.

Strategy #2: Train and Race with Multiple Nutrition Options

Nutrition options fall roughly on three axes:

• solid and liquid
• sweet and savory
• slow- and fast-digesting

Nearly all Western States veterans interviewed for “The Killing Machine” leaned on several options along all three spectra. All used some sort of sweets: usually gels, which teeter on the border between solid and liquid, but many use an electrolyte beverage containing carbohydrates. Conversely, nearly all runners noted leaning on a back-up of savory, solid, and slower-burning nutrition options, with salted potatoes being a popular option.

Above all, any viable nutrition option should also be clean-burning — easily digested without issue early (indigestion or heartburn) or late (diarrhea or constipation) in the system.

Tyler Green has emerged as one of Western States’ most clutch competitors in the past decade. After a dipping his toe into the event with a 14th place finish in 2019, he tamed “The Killing Machine” in the ensuing five runs, finishing second in 2021, fourth in 2022, second in 2023 — in 15:04:09, a personal best and currently the 11th-fastest finish in race history — and seventh in 2024, elevating the masters male course record to stratospheric heights in 15:05:39.

His nutrition and hydration strategy for the event is both dialed, varied, and flexible.

“The foundation of my nutrition strategy is always gels and an electrolyte drink with carbs as well,” Green notes. Having both high-density gel and dilute carbohydrate allows periodic dumps of energy, while providing a slow drip from his electrolyte bottle.

He is always careful to keep fuel intake consistent and avoid overload. He accomplishes this by always running with a bottle filled with water only.

On his various runs on the course, Green also ate solid food. “Cantaloupe and watermelon added a few calories to the plan, but I also just liked them because they were refreshing.” In doing so, he used small doses of solid food not only to augment fueling, but to give both his digestive system and palate a break from the sugar monotony, thus helping prevent overload or rejection of his key fuels.

Have a nutrition plan, but have as many options as you can handle. And know in what conditions — hot and cold, high and low, and fast and slow pacing — that certain fuels work best.

Tactic #3: The Downhills Are a Gift

“The Killing Machine” provides critical advice for tackling the punishing downhills of the Western States course and its formidable 22,000 feet of descent, including the torturous sawtooths of the high country, the deceptively easy but sneakily punishing “downhill half marathon” from Little Bald Mountain at mile 32 to Deadwood Canyon at mile 45, and, of course, the famed canyons.

Indeed, aggressive downhill running, especially early on, can shred quadriceps, spawn blisters, and blow toenails. Western States legends all agree, survival requires downhill discipline to preserve the quads for the latter, flatter stages of the race.

Yet, much like pacing, true success at Western States — beyond mere survival — demands more than rigid discipline and fear. It requires a balanced, fluid approach to running — in particularly the downhills, and later in the race.

Navigating the steep and relentless descents of “The Killing Machine” requires not only training preparation and race-day discipline, but two other factors: an efficient downhill running stride and a commitment to effective downhill utilization, particularly in the second half of the race, when most of the downhills are very runnable.

Navigating the steep, relentless descents of Western States demands more than just punishing training and race-day discipline. Success hinges on mastering an efficient downhill stride and strategically leveraging the highly runnable descents in the race’s second half to close hard and fast to achieve your dream finish.

Elite Runners’ Downhill Dash

In the 2016 run, Hermansen held onto second place amidst great gastric distress with elite-level downhill running skills. While his flat and uphill speed, highly dependent on fuel, was modest, on every downhill, he simply flew. For him, downhills were automatic: fast, light, efficient, and irrespective of fueling.

It was clear he had trained and raced that way for years. And assertive late-race downhill running was a conscious strategy for Western States.

When you are trained and prepared, execution becomes automatic. You know nothing else.

While not every runner can crush the descent to No Hands Bridge like Hermansen in 2016, or Jim Howard in 1983, every runner can — with focused preparation and race-day execution and commitment — make the most of the “downhill gifts.”

Strategy #3: Train to Race the Downhills as Quickly and Efficiently as Possible

Several years ago, while running the competitive Lake Sonoma 50 Mile, I found myself reeling in a star-studded field over the final 12 miles, which were littered with prolonged and runnable downhills.

And while my legs were screaming from the intense early season effort, I developed the mantra: “The downhills are a gift!”

That mantra reminded me that descents offer free energy from gravity. Or, to put it more accurately, energy I’d already earned by running uphill. To harness this earned energy for propulsion, I must run efficiently, avoid wasteful energy absorption with braking, and instead channel it to move faster.

Efficient downhill running is indeed a skill. You can read some great tips from the sport’s best runners and coaches and you can also digest these practical tips for improving downhill running to avoid blisters and toenail problems.

Western States contains a lot of magic. But atop that list, experienced by a small handful of us who have finished the event in daylight, without the use of a headlamp, is not simply running at the end. But running well, moving swiftly. and feeling good — or as good as you could possibly feel after running all day.

But you don’t need to be elite to finish strong while feeling great at Western States. While the cougar-earning legends may run every step from Green Gate at mile 80 to the finish, the most distinguishing quality between a mediocre, painful finish and a triumphant one is one’s ability to run the gentle flats and downhills, effectively and with purpose.

Implicit in the message of “The Killing Machine” and the legends who have tamed it is not simply to survive, rather, to do what it takes early on so that you can thrillingly thrive in those final glorious miles into Auburn.

An effective downhill training strategy, disciplined energy, leg preservation early, and a commitment to strong late-race running is the true difference between a survivor and a transcender.

Conclusion

The Western States 100 is a unique, if not sacred, event that demands respect. But the sacred event and race-day experience deserve more than timid survival. By crafting a fearless pace plan that embraces ease, maintaining a flexible nutrition strategy with backup options, and training to harness the “gift” of runnable downhills, runners can transform “The Killing Machine” into a stage for their best, most transcendent race, crossing the finish line not just as survivors but as thrivers.

Call for Comments

• Are you racing the Western States 100? Will you put these tactics to good use?
• Have you raced Western States before? Do these tactics align with your personal experience with the course?

Notes/References

1. The male and female winners, in addition to having their names engraved on the perpetual trophy, are awarded bronze cougar sculptures.
2. Stuempfle KJ, Hoffman MD, Weschler LB, Rogers IR, Hew-Butler T. “Race diet of finishers and non-finishers in a 100 mile (161 km) mountain footrace.” J Am Coll Nutr. 2011;30:529-35.
3. Several miles later, Jim Walmsley would take his wrong turn and fail to finish, facilitating Miller’s win.
4. The mile 93 aid station before it was moved a mile up the course to Pointed Rocks.