First 100 miler completed in 26 hours and 35 minutes.
It's been about 3.5 months since finishing the race and it's taken some time to reflect.
This was definitely the hardest thing I've ever done in one go. My mind was not as nearly prepared as my legs. Mentally, I was 100% convinced of dropping out at the aid stations at mile 68 and mile 88.
In typical fashion, I forgot my bib in the car and missed the start. So I had my own celebratory start on my own with Laura cheering and letting me know which way to turn — off to a good start.
At mile 68, I felt overwhelmed and my legs were shot. At just a shuffle, I was comfortable with the accomplishment that I had gone much further than I'd ever gone before. I nailed most of the logistics, but was mentally and physically fried. I knew I had nothing to prove and I was loved. The people going further were not as lucky as me to be comfortable dropping at mile 68. After taking a seat, having some caffeine and calories, and shedding some tears, I was convinced to make it just to the next station where my pacer would join.
At mile 88, I was again convinced I was going to go tell Laura I was done, then go tell the aid station volunteers. At that point I wasn't in pain — just mentally finished. A wife and daughter of another runner were in that field prepping for their runner to arrive. At 3 o'clock in the morning in a grass field, she was persistent in her calm yet firm affirmations: "You didn't think this was going to be easy." "Just make it to the next aid station. You'll regret it if you drop now — you made it this far." Her daughter likely felt like, "Mom, please stop, you're so embarrassing." But maybe she totally got it too.
These were the same types of thoughts Laura was sharing with me in a different way. She loved me and was proud of me, but also knew what I wanted. She knew what I was capable of and didn't just believe it — she knew it. She knew I was fine and actually in pretty good shape, all things considered. Better than I had been much earlier in previous ultras.
This was the first race where my mental strength was fully not enough. Not even close. Aid station to aid station I needed that love to refill me enough to just make it a little further. Bit by bit.
It's taken some time to reflect on what this race meant for me. Running is so much more than an activity. Once you reach the end, it breaks you down to your fundamental pieces. You get to see who and what you are. You feel what is important. And you realize that maybe there wasn't anything to be scared of.
There are so many other stories. Life in a day is pretty accurate. I encourage you to sign up for something hard. Find a friend or community to take the plunge with you. It's really hard to know what you will learn and what memories you will make.