A little over a week has passed since I crossed the finish line of the
Kettle 100.
I am still fielding questions and believe me I understand the
challenge of wrapping your head around a 100 mile run. My mom mentioned in a conversation that it was
difficult to imagine running that far and I understand what she means. Even though I physically did it, it is still
hard for me to wrap my head around that kind of distance. In my head it doesn’t seem like it was that
long and to be honest, there was no point out there where it felt that long.
Here are some of the most common questions.
Do you stop at night
to sleep? No! Stopping was a constant temptation. The bonfires that were going to keep crew
members warm were tempting and the hard plastic chairs looked as inviting as my
bed ever has. As much as every cell in
my body screamed for a break, I knew
allowing myself a rest would be more than a break.
The urge became a
battle in my head the last few hours. If
you could have recorded my internal thought process I would have qualified for
any number of diagnosis, and my sanity was no longer in question. It was just nowhere to be found. I seemed to be stuck in a loop of the same
thoughts over and over with the same rebuttal and argument. “Stop, rest”.
“Just keep moving, don’t stop”. Repeat that at least one trillion times and
that was my thought process for the final 15 miles.
Do you eat? Yes, at least at first. I had everything carefully planned out, labeled,
sorted, marked, organized into bins, times and aid station marked. I had calories, mg of sodium and hydration
marked out hour by hour. Part of running this distance though it the necessity
of flexibility. We have had a cold spring here in Wisconsin and my last long
run three weeks ago was in rain, sleet and 30 degrees. At the start it was already over 70 degrees, the humidity was 80% and climbing. We have had high amounts of rain which meant the trails and woods were wet and humid,
and the air was tropical even at 6 am.
Within the first hour I knew my initial estimates for sodium was not
going to be enough, so I doubled my intake.
This worked OK, but by 4 pm, about 10 hours in, my body started refusing
calories. With a long way to go I knew
this could be an issue, so I quickly came up with a new goal. To make it through the race without vomiting.
Judging by what I saw at aid stations a lot of runners were not so fortunate. Nutrition from that point on was sporadic at
best, it was a constant balance of trying to get something in me and to figure
out what might stay down. As long as I
kept up my hydration and sodium I thought I could make it through. As evening approached the aid stations
started providing broth which would turn out to be a lifesaver for me, and just
under the 100k mark, one of the stations had perky volunteers making grilled
cheese! It was the best sandwich ever!
How do you run that
distance? Early in the day, I was
surprised multiple times when I looked at my GPS. The course, although extremely difficult was
beautiful and I was feeling good. I
remember looking down several times and being completely surprised to see
another 5 or 6 miles had clipped by. It
was clipping by and I was enjoying every moment of it. Part of my strategy mentally is just running
from aid station to aid station which makes it feel like a bunch of shorter
runs clumped together. The camaraderie
of ultra-runners is also amazing and even though most of us were out there
running on our own, there is a genuine encouragement versus competitiveness among
runners. Whether it was someone coming
back on a loop meaning they were really far ahead of me or someone I was
passing, no one ever passed without an encouraging comment. I was shocked and surprised that I didn’t hit
a wall until after the 100k mark. The training I had done had prepared me well. Through the night as my pace slowed, I kept trying to figure out what was wrong. I had slowed down, I was tired and cold and
the miles started to feel really long.
In my head I caught myself a hundred times trying to determine if it was
an issue of fuel or hydration. Then I would
laugh at myself realizing that at 3 am after running for 21 hours, it wasn’t
any of those things. I was just
tired!! And then 5 minutes later I would
be mentally checking my list of what I had taken in, trying to figure out why I
was falling short. Mental smack. “ You
are just tired, you should be tired. Oh
yeah.” Repeat.
The race was officially 100.8. On any normal day .8 is not a big deal. The last few hours of the morning though, I
had fantasies of stopping exactly at 100 miles and making them move the finish line
to me.
Would I do it again? Without a doubt. Despite the pain, the fatigue, the challenges
that come with it there is nothing quite
like it. It is sense of pushing myself
in a way I will never be able to put into words and a feeling of empowerment
which is priceless. It is a sense of coming face to face with your
deepest layers and your deepest fears.
It is facing them, acknowledging them and knowing that no matter what
they are you will be OK and you have what it takes. It is a personal accountability and a
personal challenge to survive the highs and lows and to know you can go from
heaven to hell and back again, but in the end smile as you hit the finish line.
