In order to apply for entry to the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run (WS100), participants must meet certain qualifying standards. I was originally hoping to qualify last May at the Ice Age Trail 50-miler in Wisconsin, but that option was cut short when I sprained my ankle early in the race. I could not find any other 50-mile runs that would easily fit into my schedule, so it was looking like I would have to wait another year to try for the WS100.
In June, I ran as a pacer at the WS100 for Dan Brenden, a very experienced ultrarunner who just recently became one of only two people in the world to complete the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning four or more times. I learned a lot from Dan out on the Western States Trail in California, but he was also very thankful for my part in helping him achieve his first sub-24-hour finish at the WS100. As a result, he decided to sign me up and pay my entry fee for the Heartland 100-mile run in Kansas this year.
Successfully completing a 100-mile race is one way to qualify for the WS100, but I couldn’t imagine why I would want to go that route. Regardless, Dan was planning to run the Heartland 100 and seemed to think that I would be able to go the distance. My wife encouraged me to do it and also convinced me that my chances would be significantly increased by having someone like Dan to run with. I thus began training for my first 100-mile run.
The Heartland 100 course is in the Flint Hills of Kansas, the last great expanse of tall-grass prairie in the United States. The landscape was unspoiled and unending. The cattle on the land still graze without fences. As we approached the race course, it was difficult not to think of the herds of buffalo that must have roamed this area many years ago. I began to feel that this would be an experience I would not soon forget.
Section 1: Start to Teterville Aid Station at Mile 25
Since Dan had already done twelve 100-mile races this year alone, I didn’t question his logic when he said we needed to leave by 4:15am in order to be ready for the start at 6:00am. It was dark for the first hour of the race. The wind was strong but it was not unbearably cold. The trail of headlamps bouncing in the distance down the road was surreal, but the sunrise was probably the most beautiful I have ever seen. Everyone was running together with relaxed anticipation, meeting new people and talking along the way.
As Dan and I approached the 10-mile marker, the meaning of the second word in “Flint Hills” became clear. The hills were not incredibly steep, but they were long. I had been drinking constantly since the race started, so I also discovered how difficult it would be to find cover to relieve myself. For wooded trail runs, all you have to do is step off the trail a few feet and do your business. Out in the open prairie, there is no such thing as modesty.
Normally when you go for a run, you avoid doing so right after eating. When running 100-miles, you must eat constantly. I began to feel nauseous at about 15-miles from all of the eating I was doing to counteract the estimated 18,000 calories that I would burn during the race. I found that eating pretzels and crackers seemed to help calm my stomach, but I would battle this issue periodically throughout the rest of the day. Fortunately, it never became bad enough to be a serious concern.
Section 2: Teterville Aid Station to Turnaround at Mile 50
There is a large tower near mile 50 on the course which first came into view 20-miles before we would arrive. Distances were very difficult to judge out on the prairie. When running in the woods, you can usually only see what lies ahead a few yards at a time. During this event, you could almost see the entire course. The issue of running towards a goal on the horizon which never seemed to get any closer proved to be one of the more challenging aspects of the course.
As Dan and I began our second marathon of the day, we were proceeding at a comfortable pace that we hoped would allow us to run harder during the second half of the race. However, both of our legs were starting to feel tight and tired. I stopped a few times to stretch, but I began to fear how I might feel later on if I was already starting to feel bad this early in the day. I later learned that your feelings in a 100-mile race are not linear. If you are feeling bad, hold on and you’ll probably start to feel better. If you’re feeling great, then be patient because you’ll get over it soon.
Somewhere near the 30-mile marker, a thunderstorm that we had been watching for several hours finally reached us. Normally this wouldn’t be a huge concern, but we were running on a ridge and were definitely the tallest objects around for miles. Fortunately it passed quickly and Dan and I were both starting to feel revived as we approached the halfway point.
Section 3: Turnaround to Teterville Aid Station at Mile 75
Since the course was out-and-back, on the way out you could see the lead runners on their way back. I determined that we were in about 30th place at the halfway point. Most ultrarunners start out too fast and then crash sometime during the second 50-miles. Since we had been taking it relatively easy for the first half of the race, it was now time to pick up the pace and start moving up in the pack. Dan and I finally went our separate ways as we each determined to see how fast we could finish this course.
Throughout the day, my extremely supportive wife, Lais, and our four children met me along the way to provide both mental and physical support. Since we were combining this trip with a visit with Lais’ grandmother, Lais’ sisters Carmen and Heather and their children also came along to help out with crew duties. Seeing them at the crew checkpoints was more helpful that I could have ever imagined, especially during the second half of the race.
The sun was setting and it was starting to get dark as I left the Ridgeline Aid Station at mile 64. The socializing that occurred during the first section of the run was long over with since the field was so spread out. Runners typically enjoy the loneliness of a long-run, but the isolation I experienced in the dark after running for 13-hours straight was almost more than I could handle. Running up on a coyote in the road and the endless shine of spider eyes reflecting the light of my headlamp certainly didn’t help either. However, after a while, I began to appreciate the serenity of the night. Even though it was still quite windy, the calmness of the prairie in the dark was an amazing experience.
Section 4: Teterville Aid Station to Finish
Running into the Teterville Aid Station at mile 75, I discovered that the bottoms of my feet were beginning to blister. The constant running on the rock-covered dirt roads was beginning to take its toll. There was a guy sitting next to me at the aid station who also discovered his feet were beginning to blister. The difference is that he seemed to know what to do whereas all I could do is look at them and wonder how much worse they would feel after one more marathon. I later caught up to him on the course and he explained what he did to help deal with the blisters. My first assignment after getting home is to buy the book “Fixing Your Feet” by John Vonhof so that I’ll be the one taking care of my blisters with confidence at the next 100-mile race.
I reached my lowest point of the day just before the Lapland Aid Station at mile 83. Usually I have success in focusing on how far I have already traveled rather than the how far I have left to go, but it wasn’t working this time. The remaining 17-miles just seemed too far. My feet were getting sorer by the minute, my shoulders and back were extremely tight, I was sick of carrying my pack and water bottles, and I was just plain tired. It was past midnight and I still had several hours left to go. I just wanted to lie down and be done with it.
Fortunately for me, my crew had decided to make one last stop at Lapland. I gladly plopped down into the chair they had brought for me. However, one of the aid station workers gave them the wise advice not to let me fall asleep or sit there too long. I realized the danger of the chair, but it was sweet while it lasted. After some serious back rubbing from my wife, a few shots of Mountain Dew and a hit of espresso gel, I was a new man. I don’t really remember everything my crew did for me at Lapland, but whatever it was, it got me to the finish.
With about 6-miles left to go, the hills were leveling out and I started running harder than I had all day. I knew if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start running again, so I just kept going. As annoying as it was, a modified mantra from Dory of the movie “Finding Nemo” kept repeating in my head, “Just keep running. Just keep running. Just keep running, running, running. What do we do? We run, run”.
All that running late in a 100-mile race really paid off. At the 92-mile mark, I was in 11th place and roughly 30-minutes behind the 10th place runner. By mile 98, I was in 10th place. With less than 100-yards to go, I moved up one more position and crossed the finish line in 9th place with a finishing time of 21-hours, 35-minutes, and 20-seconds. My original goal was to finish in less than 24-hours, so I was quite pleased with how things turned out.
My wife and two of my children ran with me for the final half-mile of the race. I cannot fully express the emotions I experienced during that final stretch of a very long day. I could not have done this without the support of my wife and family. They supported me not only during the day of the race, but during the countless hours of training required to go this unfathomable distance. I also could not have done this without Dan, who I should mention was also able to pick it up the last half of the race and finish not far behind me in 13th place. Last year, I ran my first marathon. I could have never imagined that I would do almost four marathons in one day less than 12-months later.
Section 5: Finish Onward
Joining the 100-mile club is not really something that brings much admiration from the general public. The general reaction I’ve seen is that once you have a desire to move beyond the marathon distance, there must be something deeply wrong with you. When hearing why I was going to Kansas, the typical response was, “Why would you want to go and do something like that?”
One of the interesting thing about ultrarunners is that they can never give you a straight answer to the question of “Why?” However, at a 100-mile race, no one dares to ask the question. Everyone understands that each runner has their own reasons why they are compelled to do something so strange. Usually the reasons are such that they cannot fully comprehend themselves, let alone express to someone else.
Personally, I’m not exactly sure why I have been compelled to move into the world of ultrarunning. I do know that I am much healthier than I was three years ago and that the time spent running has helped me to keep other areas in my life in a more healthy balance. I also know that it has brought wonderful people into my life that I would not have known otherwise and it has helped to bring my family closer together. Most of all, I know that things in my life that seemed overwhelming a week ago just don’t seem like such a big deal anymore.
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