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.

I have always been afraid of running in the dark alone. The best way to overcome a fear is to face it head on.  I signed up for The Burning River Back 50 because it started at 6pm. I knew that I would have to run all night alone to get to the finish line. It would force me to overcome my fear.

The Burning River 100 is put on by Western Reserve Racing. It was initially supposed to be held in July, but due to Covid, was pushed back until August. The full race is a 100 mile out and back race. It’s broken up into a point to point front mile race and a back 50 mile race. It wasn’t on my initial race schedule for the year. But by August, I was willing to sign up for anything!

One of the biggest challenges about running a night race is that I was forced to sit around all day and wait! I typically run first thing in the morning, so skipping my morning run left me feeling out of sorts. I tried to rest, as much as a parent to 2 young kids is able to rest, anyway! We left for the race at 5:15pm. At 5:50, we got out of the car and head to the starting line. Everyone was in a great mood! After months of Covid cancellations and delays, we were all just excited to be at an actual in-person race!

The Start- Mile 16

The first few miles went quickly. It was still hot but we were running on a mostly flat, paved path. So I was able to bank some time while it was still light out.  As I headed onto the trail into the woods, the sun started to go down, and darkness came quickly. I spent most of the next 6 miles or so alone, navigating the trail and reminding myself to take in calories. Around mile 12, we came up to a steep hill in an open field. I barely noticed the climb because being out there in the dark with the moon shining over the top of the hill was breathtaking.

As we once again headed back into the woods, I felt really good. I started down a steep, uneven staircase. My foot turned hard and I fell on top of it hearing a loud crunch. A runner had just come up behind me and pulled me up off of the ground. He asked what I need and I said I just needed to walk it off. He wasn’t feeling great either. So we chatted about our families for a few miles up until the next aid station.  My husband, Dave was there waiting for me. I told him about my ankle, and he assured me that I would be ok. I grabbed a few honey stinger waffles from him, threw on a long sleeve shirt, and he sent me on my way!  

At some point in the middle of the night…

Over the next 4 miles, I started to become overwhelmed with the darkness. I questioned myself about why I even chose to run at night when running in the daylight would have been so much easier.  There is always a point during an ultra where you begin to question why you’re out there. Usually for me it doesn’t come quite this early on in the race though.  My ankle hurt and I kept tripping over roots.

A few miles later, I came out of the woods to cross the road and saw that Dave was parked there waiting for me. He asked me how I was doing. I told him that my ankle was throbbing and I was struggling. Once again, he reminded me that my ankle would be fine. I just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Right there, I decided that I was done feeling sorry for myself. This was what I came for and it was time to figure it out! I started by thinking about the things that I could control in this situation.

Maybe I couldn’t control the pain or the fact that it was dark out. However, I could control how many calories I was taking in. I could also control keeping an eye out for trail markers so that I wouldn’t get lost. Most importantly, I could control my mindset. After a mile or so, I was enjoying myself again. I was in the moment, focused solely on moving forward and staying positive. No matter what.  

My eyes were starting to get heavy. So at the next aid station, I asked for a cup of coke for the caffeine. I left with 2 other runners who were running their first hundred. We chatted for a mile or so until they picked up the pace. Again, I was alone for the next 3-4 miles. I focused hard on the trail and became very aware of each course marking that I passed.  I came up to an ankle turning corn field on the side of a dark road. The course led me through the corn field, up to the road and back before heading onto the tow path.

The tow path was a welcome sight! It was smooth and easy to run. So I picked up the pace as much as I could and pushed through to the next aid station. Once I got back in a rhythm, I felt great! I refused to let my mind wander to who or what might be out at this time of the night. Eventually, I came to a trail that looked familiar! I have spent some time hiking with my Dad at Oak Hill so I knew where I was which was so comforting. I also knew that that I was somewhat close to the aid station in the parking lot where Dave would meet me again.

Mile 26

Once I got there, Dave gave me new water bottles and stuffed some more snacks into my pack. Once again assuring me that my ankle would be just fine and sent me on my way. From here, I came out to a rolling, open road. It was completely dark and there was no other runners in sight. Self doubt threatened my thoughts. I really had to take control my my mind at this point.

I could see lightening in the distance and shadows covered the road. On any other day, I would have been very afraid being out at this time of night. But in a race, I know that I have to control the controllable. So I started to talk out loud which was comforting.  There was a long stretch of miles where I was on the open road, back into the trails and then back onto the road again. It went on like this for a long time and I didn’t see another person for miles.

Just after the last aid station, my spirits were high again as I saw Dave again at the top of the hill. He once again asked how I felt. I said “Easy Day, I feel amazing”! Everything hurt and I was exhausted. But the body believes what the mind tells it.

Mile 49-50

Near 7am, I realized that I was about a mile from the finish. I believe that we always have more to give. So I started picking up my feet and running as hard as I could. I crossed the finish line and finished the race off with my fastest mile of the day.

Post Race

After the race, my ankle was swollen and I could barely walk on it for a few hours. It was worth it though. There was no way that I was going to drop out, even with a sprained ankle. I ran the Back 50 to see what I was made of. I welcomed any obstacle that stood in my way. Now more than ever, I’m convinced that we are all capable of so much more than we believe. Sometimes we just need to test ourselves and come out on the other side even stronger.