By the next morning, I knew I had to do it again.
In July, 2017, I ran Grand Island 50k for the second time. In August, after hearing about a 50 mile race here in Michigan called North Country, I registered. I had a whole year to get ready for it, and a busy fall racing season quickly approaching. In September, I ran Ragnar Michigan as a member of a 12-person team. In October, I traveled to Washington D.C. to run the Marine Corps Marathon. When it was over, I was burned OUT. I needed a break. I ran barely 50 miles in November, and in December, there was a period of two weeks when I didn't run at all.
And then, my favorite podcast, East Coast Trail and Ultra, announced that they were hosting a live episode where listeners could call in and ask questions and they'd be giving away some free race entries. While I sat at my daughter's gymnastics practice, I dialed. And redialed. In fact, I dialed nearly 300 times. And then, Ryan answered the phone. Holy shit! My question? How do I transition from running a 50 miler to running a 100 miler? After they gave me some advice on training and nutrition, they told me that they only had ten free race entries and I was the eleventh caller. Boooooo. But then, Sean piped in and said if I was interested in running a 100 miler in 2018, he'd give me a free entry to the Chattanooga 100. And I said yes. Merry Christmas to me!
My thoughts started spinning. 100 miles? Had I lost my mind? I knew I had a lot of work to do. Not running, particularly during the holiday season, had caused me to gain nearly 20 pounds. Plus, I had never run more than 50 miles and I was still a little shell-shocked from that! I decided that North Country 50 in August wouldn't be enough to prepare me, and Mohican started whispering. Before long, I knew I had to go back.
I decided to make Mohican my springtime goal race, and training began in February. I spent most of January running in the snow and ice and subzero temperatures of Michigan, but in February I got down to business. In March, I paced a friend at the Martian Half Marathon in Dearborn, Michigan, in April I attended Trail Weekend in Pinckney, Michigan and ran both the half and full marathon races, and in May, I ran the Tie Dye 50k in Ohio.
Just like that, my Mohican 50 weekend was here. I had run in snow, wind, ice, humidity, heat, and rain. I had trained on trails and dirt roads and even a little pavement. I had managed to drop more than 15 pounds and had focused on nutrition. I felt ready for anything.
Friday night at Mohican is a bit of a family reunion. While there are always new runners, many runners return year after year for this race. There is a 1,000 mile club for those who have run the Mohican 100 at least 10 times, and one man, Ron Ross, has completed the 100 miler 22 times! I found my friend, Leanne, who would be attempting the 100 mile course, and we talked strategy and logistics and about how this race has such a great vibe.
After the race meeting, where we were given last minute instructions and advice, I headed back to my hotel. It was time for a final check of my gear to make sure I was ready for the morning.
I crawled into bed around 9:30 and texted a little bit with my daughter before bed. I most definitely did have a busy Saturday planned!
My alarm went off at 3:50am on race day. After a very limited taper week leading up to the race, I was ready for some MILES. I navigated the windy roads to Mohican State Park in the dark, and soon there was growing trail of taillights all headed to the start line. After parking, I headed to the starting area. Except I wasn't exactly sure where that was. Soon there were several of us standing together, not sure which direction we should go. Finally, we made a group decision to follow a paved camp road and around a little bend, we found it. I applied a little extra last minute bug spray, left my drop bag in the designated area, and headed over to chat with racers before the start. It was different this year for me-I wasn't the new kid, I was the veteran. And while many of the runners were nervous and anxious, I just felt calm and excited. I wasn't going into this race thinking about running 50 miles. I was running to the first aid station. And then I'd run to the next one. I thought if I broke the race down into 4-7 mile stretches, it would be very doable.
The race director came over the loudspeaker and announced that he had good news: It wasn't going to be 88 degrees as it had been predicted, it was only going be 82 degrees. Oh great! That is MUCH cooler! SHOULD I BRING A JACKET? A quick pre-race photo and then we all shuffled in close to the start line, he said go, and we were off!
The early morning was comfortable, and we quickly fell into a long line on the single track that leads into the woods. I was moving a little slower than I would have liked, but now that I have a little experience under my belt, I knew better than to complain. I knew in the later stages of the race I'd be happy to be moving at this pace! The first four miles flew by, and just like that I came to Gorge Overlook, the first aid station.
I still had plenty of water and wasn't ready for food yet, so I took my token orange slice picture and continued on my way. "See ya in 27 miles!"
A short four miles later, I came to the second aid station: Fire Tower. I decided to grab a couple of pb&j squares and had my pack filled a little. The next aid station would be six miles away and it was already starting to warm up out there.
I was excited for the next section because I would descend down into the canyon and feel the water falling from above. It was much cooler down there and everyone was taking pictures and standing in the waterfall. I remember last year when I left this area, thinking that I would never again see this little spot, and here I was back in it the very next year.
After some steep climbing back up out of the canyon, I went back down this looooong wooden staircase.
And then watched a couple fly fishing in the river.
I was still feeling good, running at a slow but comfortable pace, when I passed a group of people walking on a flat section of the course. We were probably only at Mile 13, and I found it little offensive when he called me stupid for running. Maybe I thought he was a little stupid for walking on a flat section so early in a race! I kept up my pace and he was soon far behind me.
The next aid station was Covered Bridge. This one always reminds me of a little oasis tucked into the trees down by the river. I tend to linger a little longer than I should at this one because the next section is a difficult one. I had my pack filled and again snacked on pb&j squares, drank a little ginger ale, and took off.
It was seven miles to the next aid station and it was filled with a ton of climbing. I was pleasantly surprised that I was getting uphill quite easily and was able to take the downhills much quicker than last year. I passed several people during this section and even stopped to say hello to the little gnome friends who watch us pass.
I came into the Hickory Ridge aid station at Mile 20 and was still feeling really good.
I spent almost no time here at all, just had my pack filled and once again grabbed a couple of pb&j squares. It was just seven miles until the first loop was finished and I was looking forward to having that under my belt. My quads were feeling slightly fatigued, but I was in good spirits and took a little time to goof around all by myself.
I can't tell you what a strange feeling it is to be cruising down a single track trail all by yourself and feel sad that you've already run almost 27 miles and you only have 23 miles left to go. I mean, I was seriously getting emotional about it!
So, off I went, through the campground, across the bridge and back onto the trails.
I didn't see anyone for the first mile or so, and then I passed a couple of runners. After that, it was pretty quiet, and in no time at all I was approaching Gorge Overlook for the second time.
This aid station was where I just about lost it last year. I had stumbled my way into it, begged for a chair and threw myself down. I was at a very low point and the nicest aid station volunteer had talked me into resting and having something to eat and then I reluctantly had gotten back to my feet and headed out. THIS year, I trotted in, grabbed a pb&j square, waved, and trotted right back out with a smile on my face. I was feeling good.
There were just four miles to the Fire Tower aid station. The miles were flying by and I was still running the flats and downhills and getting up the climbs pretty easily. Where was everyone? Why wasn't anyone passing me? On occasion, I came up behind a runner, but they'd quickly step aside and I'd thank them and keep on trucking. I was now starting to pass not only the 50 mile runners, but some 100 mile runners, who had started an hour earlier than me, and also some marathoners, who had started their race at noon. I was vaguely aware that I was waiting to blow up. I was 34 miles into a 50 mile race and I couldn't believe that aside from a couple slight falls, my race was going very well. I knew that at Fire Tower, the 100 mile runners would continue on to complete their second 27 mile loop, while the 50 mile runners would veer off on our shorter 23 mile loop. I guess I wasn't thinking, but when I asked how far it was to the next aid station and was told it was 2.5 miles away, my jaw dropped. Just 2.5 miles to Covered Bridge?! Sweeeeet! Again I grabbed a couple pb&j squares and headed off to the right, alone, while the 100 milers carried on straight ahead. This part of the course is very quiet and the trails are fairly tight. I didn't see another soul the entire time, and if I hadn't been very consciously following the orange flags, I would've thought I was on the wrong path. At one point, the trail seems to end where trees and their roots cover the path, followed by a steep drop off, but down I went!
Once down below, the trail follows a little stream and there are multiple wooden bridges and stone-covered paths to cross. It is very scenic and peaceful and is one of my favorite parts of the course. Soon I could hear traffic from above, and after a little climb, Covered Bridge, the little oasis, was in sight.
Right away a volunteer grabbed my pack from me and while he refilled it, I had some orange slices and more pb&j slices. There were plenty of other options but that's what sounded good to me and I stuck with it. My quads were starting to become noticeable, but my feet felt great and my mind was in a good place. I was ready for that long climb leaving Covered Bridge.
Almost right away, I came up behind a 100 mile runner. He was hiking the climbs and running the downs and he was going slightly slower than I would have preferred, but I decided to follow him awhile. We approached another 100 mile runner who was clearly struggling and going much slower, and while he let the man in front of me pass, he cut me off and wouldn't let me by. I tried several times to pass and every time he'd speed up just to stay ahead of me. I was annoyed. Within a half mile, there was a lineup behind this guy. We were all annoyed. Finally, he stepped aside, pretended to tie his shoe and I blew past him. Those miles were my slowest of the race and I wasn't happy about it. I decided to pick it up a little bit, as I was feeling pretty good still, and soon I was alone again on the trail. This section is filled with tons of roots, so I made sure to pay attention. I didn't want a bad fall this late in the race!
I once again ran past the forest gnomes up on the ridge and then descended again. It was thundering now and I couldn't think of anything better than an afternoon storm. It was hot and humid and I almost felt sorry for the people out for a hike through the park. The thunder continued for nearly an hour, but no rain fell. Such a tease. And then, just like that, I was running into Hickory Ridge aid station. Running! I had my pack refilled and grabbed my final pb&j squares and knew that in seven short miles I'd be crossing that finish line.
The first half of this section is so green and so beautiful it almost doesn't seem real.
I was soaking these last few miles in. I was starting to feel tired, but not overly so. I passed a few 100 milers and 50 milers on these trails, and many marathoners. This was definitely a difficult marathon course and I think it got the best of more than a few runners. And then I was running through the campground, waving at kids wearing shirts that said "Make today GREAT!" and "SHINE" and was a little sad my kids weren't there to be a part of this. But I gave some high-fives and continued on. Up a long, climbing road, and down around the lake, and then, THERE IT WAS!
I turned left and headed toward the finish line. I kept looking behind me for anyone approaching. I didn't want to be passed at this point! I had gone the whole loop without being passed and I was willing to fight for my position. But no one came. I was holding back the tears as I made the final turns and headed for the finish line. I had done it. 50 miles. And I had done it well.
After last year's finish time of 14.52:23, My goal for this year was to finish in 13 hours. With a finish time of 12:39:04, I had surpassed my goal. I had done two loops through Mohican State Park, and had taken the elevation in stride.
And then? Then all I wanted to do was sit down. So I sat. For a long time. I stared at my disgusting legs and feet.
I snuggled with a very friendly dog who didn't mind that I smelled horrendously.
Fun fact: They purchased 22 kegs of beer for this race weekend. It only seemed right that I should muster the strength to get up and go get one. So I did. And then I sat right back down.
I watched the leaders have their pictures taken up on the podium. I even saw one female holding a bag attached to an IV who had placed in the Top 5. You thought I was kidding when I said it was hot, didn't you? I watched more finishers come in. I watched people dunk themselves fully clothed into ice baths. And, in case you're wondering, a 50 mile race is over 98,000 steps. Ha!
And then, just like that, it was over. I needed a shower, I needed some food, I needed to sleep, and then I needed to get home. The next day was Father's Day and it was filled with family. And there was one little guy who had missed his mama.
People always ask me how I'm able to run long distances like this. They also ask me why I run long distances like this. How do I run ultras? I train for them. And I will continue to train for them to better myself. I put in the work. Why do I run ultras? I have seen beautiful places on my runs-places that can't be seen by car, or even in pictures. To truly see a place, I believe you have to be IN it; you have to experience it firsthand. So, why do I run ultras? What's better than spending a day in the woods? I can't think of many things. There was just one race photo that was posted of me, but it's the only one I need. This is me, 18 miles into this 50 mile race, just a little while after a man had told me I was stupid, and I was having a complete BLAST.
