Obstacles can’t stop you. Weather can’t stop you. Heartbreak can’t stop you. Failure can’t stop you. Only you can stop you.

Cameron Haines

I’m beginning with a quote because this one seems fitting. I felt confident and ready to take on whatever this race held for me. I had put in the miles and the early mornings, placed myself in uncomfortable situations all year just for the sole purpose of strengthening my mind for this event. My taper hadn’t been great. I fell hard on a trail run a week earlier, doubted myself and my training and at moments questioned why I was doing this. But here at the starting line of the Mohican 100, my mind was clear and I already knew that I would finish this race.

The Start

We started in waves due to the new Covid restrictions. Everyone in the 5:08 wave ran down the road with 3 hours of darkness still ahead of us. The hills were immediate and unrelenting. I tried to take them one at a time, glancing back at the headlamps behind me every time I reached the top. The full moon was bright and I felt calm.

I encountered the first obstacle of the race early on. Every now and then, I would step down on my heel and feel a small rock hitting my foot. I know that something this small can quickly turn into a big problem if you don’t take care of it right away. So at mile 6, I took off my shoe and shook it to remove the rock. Unfortunately, nothing came out. I looked into my shoe and instead saw a rusty nail poking through the bottom! I had a moment of panic and my mind raced to figure out how I was going to solve this problem. Was this really happening? Who gets a rusty nail stuck in their running shoe during a 100 mile race?! I quickly put the shoe back on, refusing to let my thoughts get away from me and go to the worst case scenario.

Mile 7

Luckily the first aid station was a mile away. According to my race plan, I wasn’t supposed to stop here but I knew I needed to get some help. I asked the guys at the aid station if anyone had duct tape. Everyone was extremely nice, but they were lacking the urgency that I was feeling at that moment. They asked if I would like to sit down in the warm building behind them while they looked for the duct tape. I declined, knowing that that is the worst thing I could possible do in this situation.

Finally, I had the duct tape in hand. I did my best to cover the rusty nail and set off again trying to make up time. I figured that if I ran on my toes, maybe I would avoid puncturing my heel with the nail. Realistically, I knew that I would pay for this change in running form later in the race. But I would have to deal with the consequences later.

The next few miles, I worked hard to remind myself to pay attention to trail markers, continue to take in calories all while enjoying being out on this beautiful trail. It was overwhelming to say the least. Eventually, I came out to a road and I spotted my husband, Dave. I quickly told him that there was a nail in my shoe and that he needed to get me another pair of shoes from the car. His response was “no, I can’t do that.” According to race rules, runners can only receive aid at designated areas or at aid stations. This wasn’t one of those designated areas. I wasn’t happy, but I understood so I told him I would figure it out and see him at mile 14.

As soon as I turned to start running again, I found a group of runners and started talking to another runner. It was the distraction that I needed. I continued to talk and run on my toes all the way to the next aid station at mile 13.5 where I had another pair of shoes waiting for me in my drop bag!

Mile 13.5

I left the aid station quickly, feeling like I was starting the race over again. On the other hand, I no longer had this distraction of the nail in my shoes and I was once again faced with the reality in front of me. I do well when the odds are stacked against me. I become determined and solely focused on the task at hand. It’s my super power and it has gotten me through some very daunting situations over the past five years. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to wait too long for another obstacle!

Around mile 20, my right knee started to hurt. Every time I tried to run, a shooting pain ran through the side of the inside of my knee. My thoughts turned dark as I wondered how I would run 80 miles with this pain. Just as we turned off gravel roads and back onto the trail again, my ear became congested. Have you ever had that feeling where your ear clogs up when your running and everything sounds like an echo? It can be disorienting and it happens to me on long runs occasionally. I pushed on for a few miles like this, until I finally started to focus my thoughts again. I decided not to give the pain in my knee a voice and started alternating running and walking and calming myself down with deep breaths to clear up my ear.

Mile 23

As I came into the next aid station, I saw a familiar face that I recognized from the training run a few weeks earlier. I started talking and running with my new friend, Carol and my ear cleared up almost immediately! We ran together for a while picking up another runner along the way. We chatted about races, counted beer cans in the road and made up a lot of time.

Mile 29.5

I came into the crewed aid station at mile 29.5 in great spirits, excited to see my parents, who had just arrived and grab some food. Quickly, I scanned the area and realized that my crew was not here! I worried I would run out of food before I saw them again at mile 39. I started to panic. When other runners and crews realized what was going on, everyone chipped in and graciously offered me their food! I found out later that because I had picked up my pace, I was way ahead of schedule. My crew arrived later and waited for a while wondering where I was. I continued on, running down a paved bike path for about 10 miles, talking with other runners and doing my best to manage my knee pain.

Mile 39.5

This was the beginning of the Glenmont loop that I had run during a training run a few weeks before. I knew going in that it was 21 miles with 3,000 feet of climbing long and unforgiving hills and multiple stream crossings. I also knew that it would get dark before I finished this loop so I grabbed warm tights, my Kogalla light, my trekking poles and more food. In and out out of the aid station in under 5 minutes. This entire loop, although grueling, turned out to be somewhat slow and uneventful.

Mile 61

I came into the mile 61 aid station 1.5 hours after my predicted time. Dave and my pacer, Kristin were there wondering what took me so long! Dave let me know right away that I would be fighting the cutoff if I didn’t pick up my pace. My feet had been burning for a while from getting wet and I knew that they were covered in blisters. Dave quickly assessed my feet, put new socks on me and let me know that they wasn’t much he could do for me at this point. Kristin and I set off on the next Glenmont loop. I told her that my knee hurt but I was just going to gut it out from here on out. This is when the race actually began for me.

I pushed harder and dug down deeper than I ever have. I started running the hills and making up time wherever I could. Kristin did her part to keep me going. Telling me when to pick it up, reminding me to eat and trying to keep my spirits high by making me laugh. We passed more people on this loop than I had the entire race up to this point.

I went through highs where I was laughing with Kristin. Then a mile later, I would hit another low and start to feel emotional and weepy. It was a roller coaster, but I also knew in the back of my mind that it wouldn’t last forever. I had to do everything that I could to make up time and finish under the cutoff.

Mile 73

About halfway through the loop, I started having stomach issues. I had to stop on the side of the trail every 15-20 minutes! I asked Kristin to keep watch for other runners coming down the trail. My poor pacer had no idea what she was signing up for! At this point in the race, it becomes almost primal. I don’t think I have ever been so uncomfortable. I knew I needed calories but my stomach was a mess and I had no appetite.

A few miles from the end of this loop, we finally came out of the woods onto a gravel road. We looked up and the blue moon was shining bright, while the clouds passed over. It was breathtaking. We admired it for a moment and then I put my head back down and continued to move forward.

Eventually, we made it through the loop, almost 2 hours quicker than I had finished the Glenmont loop the first time!

Mile 83

At the mile 83 aid station, I met up with my Dad. He’s an experienced ultrarunner, so I asked him if I should change my shoes since my feet were pretty torn up. He reminded me that it’s not your shoes that are going to get you to the finish line. At this point in the race, it’s easy to get caught up on shoes, gear and nutrition. Everyone is in a lot of pain at mile 83 but the only thing you need to get through it is a strong mind. He asked me how I was feeling. My response was always the same anytime someone asked. “I feel fine.” I don’t give myself the luxury of dwelling on the pain I’m experiencing during a race. This is how I’m able to keep moving forward for so many hours without ever sitting down.

As we left the mile 83 aid station, my Dad kept a good pace and I willed myself to keep up with him. We talked to other runners as we pushed on. Some of them joining us for a bit but then giving into their own demons and slowing back down. The hills continued on, one after another. I told myself “I’m a good uphill runner, that’s my strength”. My mind listened and my body continued to respond.

Mile 93

We arrived at the mile 93 aid station and saw my mom and Dave. I was so excited to be so close to the finish, that I grabbed a cup of coke, completely forgot to take food or water with me and charged right through. A few minutes later, it began to rain and the wind started to pick up. It took my mind off of the pain and my stomach discomfort so it was actually a welcome distraction. Eventually it stopped and my Dad talked me through the miles, giving me advice about running ultras and telling me stories. My stomach continued to turn and my spirits started getting low again.

Isn’t it funny how as ultra runners, we are competitive not only about running, but about how much we have each suffered? My Dad told me stories about having to stop on the trail 26 times in one race because of diarrhea! And not only that, but giving himself poison ivy in the process! He won this round, I think my total was around 15 or so.

The last few miles of any race are always the longest and this was no different. Despite my Dad’s best efforts to distract me, I felt awful. Just when I wondered if I would have to finish this race with a bad attitude, we passed by a woman and her daughter who had a mini aid station set up in their front yard. After a cup of the best apple cider I’ve ever tasted, I was a new person!

A few minutes later, it started hailing but we kept pushing. I was shuffling along as fast as I could. We came up to the corner and saw my mom and Dave waiting for us. Half mile to go! I felt emotion well up inside of me, but nothing came out. After holding it together for over 30 hours, I was too exhausted for tears of joy. I mustered all the energy that I had left and ran the last half mile through the finish line.

Mile 101.3

I finished the race in 30 hours and 29 minutes. 30 hours sounds like a long time to be on your feet, but I spent every minute of it focused on being where my feet were and the time flew by. Every time I run an ultra, I find strength from the dark corners of myself that I didn’t even know were there.

I tell myself that 100 miles really isn’t that far and my mind believes me. In that last mile of the race, I thought about what I had overcome; a nail in my shoe (yes, I called my doctor and my tetanus shot is up to date!), painful blisters and lost toenails (2.5 of them!) , stomach issues, rain and hail. Through all of it though, I stayed focused on moving forward and never gave up the hope that the lows would pass. I understand now why so many runners come back to Mohican year after year. The community, the spirit and the gorgeous landscape. But there’s also that special something that I can’t quite place that has me thinking about signing up for more in 2021.

The week of my first 100 mile race, The Indiana Trail 100, I was a lot calmer than I had thought I might be. I spent an obsessive amount of time going through my drop bags and looking over my very detailed race plan but I knew that I was ready. I had spent every day of the last 10 months completely focused on finishing this race. After running the Glacial Esker 40 miler at Chain O’Lakes in April, I knew that this would be a really well organized race and all I would have to think was getting to that finish line.

We checked into our bed and breakfast, I set everything out and barely slept because I was so excited to get started.  When we arrived at Chain O’ Lakes State Park the next morning at 5:30am, it didn’t feel real. My crew (which included my husband, Dave, and my parents) and I waited in the tent for the the race director to tell us to get to the starting line. It was a lot colder then I expected at 28 degrees. After so many months of training and anticipation, I was feeling excited, focused and just ready to get moving.

During the first few miles, it felt surreal. I kept thinking “I’m just out here with 400 other runners for my early morning long run”! I took it easy and let my body ease into the run. After chatting with a few other runners on the first loop, I picked up the pace a little then eased up when I saw my crew, making sure to take my time and to eat early and often to avoid stomach issues later in the race. The first loop (20 miles) flew by. I was taking each mile as it came. Every time my mind started to think about how far I still had to run, I pulled it back and reminded myself to stay in the moment. This was my first 100, and I wanted to make every moment count. 

I started to get a little tired toward the end of the 2nd loop at about 36 miles when I met another runner who was also struggling. I pulled up along side of him, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts. We started talking about some of our favorite ultra runners (Courtney Dauwalter and David Goggins) and we both picked up the pace. It’s amazing how during a race this long, you can be struggling one minute, and the next you feel better and are having a great time with a new friend! Sharing the trail with all these amazing people was inspiring. Everyone had a different background but we all had the same crazy goal to run 100 miles. 

At 40 miles, I picked up my first pacer, my husband Dave, and I was so excited to tell him all about my day! The 12 miles together flew by as I chattered away and soon we were at mile 52 where I left Dave and picked up my Mom to finish the 3rd loop. This is where I would learn the first big lesson of the day, always pack extra headlamps! We underestimated how dark it would be on the trail at this point in the day and the sun went down quickly. We had 2 small flashlights, but decided to only use one so we would have a back up in case the batteries died. This slowed us down as I stumbled around the trail over the rocks and roots but we still managed to finish the loop strong. 

At mile 60, I changed into a fresh pair of shoes and warmer clothes. I would soon discover that I had just made my second major mistake; changing when everything I had on was working just fine. I picked up my Dad at the main aid station for miles 60-80. I still felt pretty decent for the first half of the loop, but started noticing what I thought was cramping in my right calf. I took some salt pills hoping to fix the issue. About this time, I noticed that the shoes I changed into didn’t have enough cushion for this distance. The soles of my feet started burning and I knew that I was developing some bad blisters. 

At the mile 72 aid station I had another pair of shoes waiting in my drop bag. So I changed into my 3rd pair of trail shoes of the day. My husband taped up my blisters, hoping that it would save my feet. But it was too late, and they continued to deteriorate. At this point, I started getting very clumsy in the dark and kept kicking tree roots with my toes which sent pain shooting up my legs. My Dad talked me through the loop, directing his flashlight on the ground in front of my feet, and we worked on a pacing plan to get me through the rest of the race under the cutoff. I had been super positive all day. But between mile 72 and the next aid station at mile 77, the dark thoughts start to creep in and I fought hard to keep myself focused on the goal, and ignore how much it hurt. 

At 80 miles, I picked up Dave to pace me the rest of the way. Up to this point, I hadn’t really been that tired. I was in pain and my legs felt the exhaustion but I still felt wide awake. About a mile after I started running with Dave, it was like my body realized that it was now the early hours of the morning and I should be sleeping in my warm bed. I could barely keep my eyes open. For a split second my eyes would close and I would stumble towards the side of the trail. I was literally falling asleep while I was running! At the mile 83 aid station, I admitted that I couldn’t think straight or even focus enough to decide what food to eat. I was a little worried that maybe this wasn’t normal (turns out it is normal after running 83 miles!) but I knew I had to keep moving . This went on for several hours. In an effort to keep me awake, Dave would count down from 60 seconds and I would run (shuffle) as fast as I could and then we would alternate hiking for a minute. I was desperate to stay awake and was pretty miserable in general. But even in those dark and painful moments, there was a little voice in the back of my head reminding me that this would pass and I needed to leave everything out on the trail.

Around 7:30am, we counted down the minutes until dawn, saw the sun come up and suddenly, I felt awake again! I knew that this was it. The last 12 miles of my first hundred. I used everything I could think of to keep my body moving forward, while my husband did everything that he could to lighten the mood and make me laugh! At this point, my feet felt completely raw and my calf was in knots. I repeated over and over “No pain, this is what I came for!” We passed my parents with just a few miles to go, and they reminded me to pick up my feet and move faster! We shuffled and counted steps all the way until I could see the finish line. In the last half mile of the race, I had imagined that I would be emotional thinking about all of the sacrifices and training that led up to this moment. But in reality, I was just too tired to even think. It wasn’t until I crossed the line and stopped running and the race director handed me my belt buckle that it finally felt real.

I spent so much time planning and training for this race that I never actually thought about how I might feel afterwards. In the first hour after the race, I was running on the adrenaline of just finishing 100 miles. I talked excitedly with my family while I drank chicken broth and tried to warm up. We even started talking about what hundred I might run next. Reality hit, as soon as I got home several hours later and I could barely walk! The next few weeks were pretty painful as my body recovered. Looking back at the race, I am re-engergized to do it again. The extreme highs, lows, lost toenails, exhaustion, pain and inspiring community are what bring me back for more. I just hope that my recovery is quicker next time!

“Everybody comes to a point in their life when they just want to quit. But it’s what you do at that moment that determines who you are.” -David Goggins