Competitor - June 2017

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extreme heat—temperatures

in the 80s and humidity in the

90s—Rice won the Viaduct

Trail 100 Miler in the north-

east Pennsylvania wilderness

by more than an hour. This

past January, in a snowstorm,

Rice won the Watchung 50K in

New Jersey by more than 9 min-

utes. “I like adverse weather,”

he says.

Rice’s first 100, in 2010, about

a decade after his first ultra,

came after adversity that

would have overwhelmed

lesser athletes. In 2009, as a

result of back surgery, Rice

contracted a rare, life-threat-

ening staph infection in his

spinal column that required a

second emergency operation

for spinal fusion. Within 24

hours following the second

surgery, Rice was walking laps

around the hospital corridors.

But he’d lost months of train-

ing, had 14 inches of staples in

his back and had to be on anti-

biotics for a year.

Once the staples were removed,

Rice could run but would

have a permanent “cage” in

his lower back consisting of

bolted titanium rods. Even in

his weakened state, Rice chose

a predicable route to get back

in shape: By embarking on his

first 100.

What about the contraption

imbedded in his back? “I don’t

even think about it,” he says.

Twelve months after the sur-

gery, Rice did the New Jersey

100, now called the New Jersey

Ultra Festival, and was on his way.

Rice has no residual back prob-

lems, but he also has a plate and

ten screws in his right hand after

falling during a 25-mile trail run

event—the 72-hour Florida

Sea to Sea race in March—Rice

and a partner, Bruce Swanson,

53, took fourth in the overall

two-man team competition.

Traveling via land, water and

wheels from the state’s east

coast near Daytona Beach to its

west coast at Crystal Springs,

the pair took 66 hours, 54 min-

utes to navigate the backwoods

crossing. They did get a bit of

sleep—there was a mandatory

“dark zone.”

Rice holds that just about any-

one can find his ultra “soul”

by shedding perceived limits.

“People have a mental map

that sets borders, that says,

‘This is the edge of your real-

ity,’” Rice says. “Every time

you do something you didn’t

think you could do, you rede-

fine that border.”

One time, in a four-day, 250-mile

event with the finish nearing,

Rice almost had to alter the

borders of the race course. In a

contest of trekking, mountain

biking, rappelling and navigat-

ing unmarked terrain in the

Appalachian Extreme in Maine

and New Hampshire, Rice and

his teammates emerged from

a night of racing through the

woods and into the daylight

when Rice encountered some-

thing that nearly scared the life

out of him.

“A moose,” he says. “You don’t

know how big a moose is until

he’s right in front of you. The

sun had just come up and he’s

staring at me, with smoke com-

ing out of his nose.”

But the moose must have seen

something that impressed him.

Before Rice could find a way to

retreat, the moose ran away.

near his home. “I try not to think

about that either,” he says.

The episode weakened Rice’s

right-hand grip, an impedi-

ment for him in Spartan and

Tough Mudder events that

require climbing ropes and

walls. Rice also uses his hands

in adventure races that typically

include canoeing and mountain

biking along with running (in a

trekking or orienteering way)

for 24, 48 or 72 hours, sleep be

damned. Rice competes in these

events individually or as part of

a team. (In team competition,

each member must complete

all disciplines.)

In one Spartan Death Race, a

48-hour event in Vermont, Rice’s

four-man team was victorious.

The challenges included run-

ning up and down a mountain

hauling a 70-pound sandbag in

your backpack. And on virtually

no sleep either, or the opposition

would get ahead. “I popped caf-

feine pills,” Rice says.

In his most recent adventure

photos: Daniel weiss

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