This is the story from my first 50 miler. It's really amazing to look back and reflect on this race that was only 8 months ago. You see, this race was my first "ultramarathon" and it was where I fell in love with ultras. If I only knew what I was getting into! This race changed my entire mental landscape. It made me realize that we are capable of far more than we give ourselves credit for. You will find something life changing when you seek the "impossible".
They said it was the toughest ultra-marathon trail race in all of Louisiana. They said it was unlikely to conquer it. They said it was impossible. They said if the course doesn’t beat them into submission, the heat will. They said their bodies just couldn't endure the dehydration, heat, and overwhelming amount of pain from the up and down of hills (8,000+ feet of climbing elevation), terrain, mud, water, and sand. But... "they" didn't know who we were. After all, we were just a group of "flatland" runners from out of town.
So let me tell you about our team. First we had Hannah. She was head crew chief, nutrition support, and #1 fan. Next, we had Zach aka Zman. He was lead race expert, crew support, and pacer. Somehow I talked Coach Josh Moore to sign up and run the race with me. He had never run more than 20 miles up until a little over a week ago. So to say that he was insane would be an understatement, but he has heart. So of course there were both of us running 50 miles each.
The race started at 6 a.m. in an open field surrounded by lots of hills and trees in St. Francisville, LA. We were literally in the wilderness. We arrived about 5:30 a.m. to set up camp and prepare for the race. Dew glistened on the grass as the sun began to rise. There was a group of eager racers there. There were multiple races: 6 miles, 12 miles, 24 miles, 36 miles, and the beast... 50 miles. All races were on the same 6 mile "trail" loop through the thick woods, over the countless steep hills, through gully washers, small creek canyons, across the waist deep water of the creek, through the quicksand and gravel, and through the knee high grass, which looped back to the starting line where lots of other onlookers and supporters waited.
The first 6 mile loop wasn't too bad. We got an early lead and a feel for the course. We didn't expect the steepness of these slippery hills and random roots. So naturally there were a few times we fell in the mud or had to climb on all fours. Near the end of the first lap is where we first found the water and sand. To any runners out there, you understand how heavy wet shoes can be. Imagine carrying the added weight for 50 miles. Not only that, sand in your socks is the perfect recipe for blisters on every imaginable spot on a foot. This was an instant problem. Both of us addressed concerns about the dreaded b-word, blisters. We made a decision to wash our socks and shoes after each lap. Hannah came through in the clutch and created a makeshift wash station at the tent with a 5-gallon bucket full of water.
The next lap would be the same loop we previously did, but in reverse. That meant we had to go through the water and sand to start the lap. Luckily we had spare socks to change into after we got out of the water and sand, but we had to carry them the remaining 5 miles.
On the fourth loop, Zman joined in and paced us. We were both delighted to have him come out on the course just to witness and experience the intensity of nature’s landscape. I could tell he loved every second of it by the big grin on his face and the pep in his step. Zach picked this lap to join us because it was the lap that Josh surpassed his previous record of 20 miles in one run. This was a BIG deal.
The next few laps were a blur. I could remember around mile 24 when I began to get an intense pain in my right foot. I came into the race with a slight injury in my foot, but I had taken it easy the week of the race and hoped it would heal enough to get the opportunity to race. There was no way I could not try even with a bad foot. I was really worried that it might force me to quit. With every foot strike it sent a sharp pain up my leg. That’s when Josh was there for me. He took my mind off the pain just through simple conversation. He asked me so many random questions like “If you could pick a superpower, what would it be?” or “What’s your favorite food?” I have to admit that it took my mind off the pain for a while and really lifted my spirits. You know, you can really get to know a person when you run 50 miles together with no phone, no music, and no distractions.
As we painfully trotted down the last hill on the 6th lap (mile 36) our quads forced us to hobble and awkwardly move, we began to smell the onion. Weird story… There was a random onion on the course that someone stepped on. It wreaked the smell of a rotten onion, but it was one of the best smells on the course, because every time we smelled it that meant we were almost finished with the lap.
Both of us depleted and extremely fatigued, we were the last runners on the course. The other 50 mile participants were much smarter than us. Instead of being prideful, they decided to put their egos aside and drop out of the race (which is totally rational). We were at the tent restocking our water, eating, and loading up on supplies when I could hear whispers amongst the crowd of onlookers. There were lots of talks of… “I don’t think they’ll make it. Look at them, they have nothing left in the tank.” They were right. They could easily see the looks on our faces and the despair in our eyes.
Not a moment too soon, that’s when Zman stepped in and decided to run another loop with us. I gave Hannah a kiss and off we went, back on the course. The onlookers knew we wouldn’t make it. You could tell by the tones of their voices and the lack of energy at the starting line. Zman led the way and we followed. Step after step. All we had to do was keep moving forward. Zach entertained us of stories about the guy that brought the port-a-potty to the event and how his truck got stuck in the mud. He was forced to sit there most of the day and hang out at the race.
Somehow we made it back. It took what felt like an eternity. It was by far the longest lap, but we made it. We were now 42 miles in the race. There was no turning back. All we had left was one more 6 mile loop, and a special 2 mile loop for the finish.
We took our time at the aid station. You could see the excitement in the crowd. Random volunteers and onlookers started surrounding the tent. Everyone was so nice and supportive. They brought us ice, food, drinks, and just came to offer support. The energy had completely changed. This instilled a newfound energy in my bones. I could feel it in the air. It was almost 90 degrees but I had chills. It was not like anything that could be described.
The next 6 miles was rough. That newfound sense of energy wore off about a mile into it. I could see that Josh was completely gassed. He was being so heroic to keep going. He had more than doubled his previous long run already. This just showed his indomitable spirit.
On one of the steep 60 degree uphill climbs, I stepped on a root wrong and tweaked my ankle. This was just too much. I was about to share my pain, frustration, and doubt aloud, but I bit my tongue. I knew Josh did not need to hear it. It would have been so selfish of me. If I showed any weakness at this point, it would have been easy for us to just quit and be happy with what we had already accomplished. I kept my mouth shut and just tried my best to pretend I was fine.
Then an owl flew across our path and landed in the tree above us. About a mile later, a snake crossed our path. That’s when I began to remember: The obstacle is the way. The pain we were feeling was a necessary price to pay for the glory of the event. We could advance or retreat. I just started to repeat this mantra in my head, “I can. I will. I must.”
This wasn’t just about us. This was about our team, our families, our friends, and all the supporters back at the camp. We had come this far, we had to finish. How could we explain quitting? It would be easy, but the pain of the regret of not finishing would far outweigh the pain we felt in the moment. All I could think about was my wife and kids. Honestly, I just wanted them to be proud.
I could smell the sweet, sweet smell of the rotten onion. The hair of my arms began to rise. We were merely half a mile from the camp. That meant we could stop quickly and refuel before the final 2 mile loop. As we arrived at the tent, the onlookers proudly cheered, the cowbell was ringing, and all I could see was the big smile on Hannah’s face as she whispered, “Almost there.”
The last 2 miles was designed to put a cap on the race. It was the final exclamation point on this death trap called an ultra-marathon. First, we had to run across the field to a canyon. Climb down the canyon through briers and brush. Next we had to swim across the deep end of the creek to the beachy sand. Then we had to cross back over the creek up another small creek to a turn-around loop. This took forever and we didn’t care. Time didn’t matter. We were almost there.
After what felt like an eternity, we were back into the field and could faintly see the camp area in the distance. Everyone was cheering. We could hear them from half a mile away. Finally as the both of us trotted and the finish came into sight, we could see the finish line. It was a legit finish line made with toilet paper (a perfect finish to the race).
Josh and I started the race together, we ran the race together, we finished the race together. We both collapsed after crossing the finish line and were quickly surrounded by everyone.
Cheers, hugs, support, and everything. We did it. WE DID IT. And when I say WE, I mean our team: Hannah, Zach, Josh, and me. It was a total team effort. If we were missing one person of the team, we couldn’t have finished.
So I tell the story of this race not to impress you, but to impress upon you the idea that limits are self-imposed. Limits, like fears, are often just an illusion. The only way to grow is outside of your comfort zone. We often times avoid discomfort, but it typically is filled with fruitful seeds of opportunity. You just have to believe you can and surround yourself with like-minded people that will support you and help you along the way.
I hope this story can inspire you to test and explore your own limits. You are far more capable than you give yourself credit for. The cave you are most afraid to enter contains the treasure you are after. I challenge you to step up and be bold. Test your limits. Be your best self.
