My singular 2024 race was here, ready or not. I thought I was ready, mentally at least, even if I wasn’t confident in my current physical shape.

This was an interesting race, as I had signed up for the 2023 event and needed to defer due to my ankle issues last year. So I got a bib for 2024, but it never felt like the big scary focus, requiring months of preparation that I typically feel before my ‘A’ races.

I was able to hitch a ride down to Whitewater with Ryan and Emily, he was running, and she was pacing and crewing. Seems like we had done a bunch of races this way by now. We had the day off and wanted to get on site, and wouldn’t see the remaining Wausau folk, Marcus, Jason, Carissa (running the 100) and Chad, Jake, Ellen, Kristin, Luke and Nicole all working, crewing, volunteering, being awesome in their own ways. Needless to say, there were a lot of friendly faces around.

So, we got there pretty early, drove the course and were promptly stopped on a random cut through road by a downed tree heading from Bluff to McMiller where we thought Emily would have good crewing spots.

Didn’t seem like a good omen, but we let the RD know and found another route. The drive was short, like surprisingly short. Before long we were out at Scuppernong, which is the 50k mark in the race. Then back down to the other side again, getting Emily familiar with the country roads, we got to HWY 12 and Rice Lake, then back to Nordic for packet pickup.

Starting to get real now, they started at 3pm and there was a huge crowd waiting in line, first big realization at just how many people are at this race.

The rest of the night was wonderfully uneventful, everyone made it down, and I was able to get to bed early and sleep well, something that never happens for me before a big race! Up at 4, prep the body and mind for the 6 am start and off we went.

… but, just in case you don’t know this race, I want to preface a couple of things first.

1. This race sells out in January, in a few hours
2. There are about 200 runners in just the 100 mile race
3. There is also a 100k, 50k and 38 mile ‘Fun Run’
4. All the races start at different times on the same course
5. Here’s the course

Looks a bit strange there, all in a line, but I’ll be referring back to where I am in the coming story, based on the Aid Stations, so it’s good to keep the order in mind, it goes a little something like this:

• Nordic (Start for 100m and 100k and FunRun)
• Tamarack [5.1m]
• Bluff [7.4m]
• Horseriders [12.3m]
• Natalie’s [15.5m]
• McMiller (Crewing Location) [19.5m]
• Wilton [23.8m]
• HWY 67 (Crewing Location) [27.1m]
• ZZ/Scuppernong (Start for 50k) [29.4m & 34.5m]
  • There’s a 5 mile loop before hitting ZZ again, then head back in
• HWY 67 (Crewing Location) [36.8m]
• Wilton [40.1m]
• McMiller (Crewing Location) [44.4m]
• Natalie’s [48.4m]
• Horseriders [51.6m]
• Bluff [56.5m]
• Tamarack [58.8m]
• Nordic (Crewing Location – Finish for all distances) [63.9m]
  • 100 mile runners now start on the Fun Run side
• Tamarack [69m]
• Bluff [71.3m]
• Duffin [73.8m]
• HWY 12 (Crewing Location) [77.9m]
• Rice Lake [82.2m]
• HWY 12 [86.5m]
• Duffin [90.6m]
• Bluff [93.1m]
• Tamarack [95.4m]
• Nordic (FINISH) [100.5m]

Got all that?
Well, you can always refer back… or run it sometime, and you won’t forget!

Let’s get it rolling!

The start was massive, reminded me more of an Ironman swim start than a 100 mile run. It was kind of nice that way, almost a little calming even, a comfortable familiarity. Inevitably the clock ticked down, and off we went at 6am.

The first 5 miles flew by in a blur, good conversation, felt like it was a comfortable pace, we hit Tamarack before I knew it and I just walked through, grabbed some food and kept at it. Same for Bluff a short 2.5 miles later. After Bluff it gets a bit hilly, and in here we had a nice little conga line going on the single track. I was still feeling good, pushing the pace a little hard, but felt in control with this group. We flew through to Horseriders like this. Along the way the pace was starting to become a bit much, pushing on the uphills harder than I did during training. So, I grabbed some food, took a wee and dropped off of that group.

On the way through to the first time we’d see crew, at McMiller, about 20 miles in, my left hip/butt really started to get tight. This was something I had happen pacing at Zumbro and to a much greater extent the Govnor’Dodge 50k. I think this is tied into the same ankle and knee tendon issues I’m having, but haven’t confirmed that yet. Anyway, it was getting troubling, quickly. A little over 16 miles and I was in far more pain that I should have been at this point, with just 84 remaining.

Coming into McMiller I was just starting to realize how much trouble I was in at this point. I tried my usual stretches, grabbed some food and headed off again. I told Jake, Chad and Emily I was doing alright, but the darkness was already starting to creep in with thoughts of pulling out at the 100k.

Through to Wilton then HWY 67 where crew was waiting once again. I made sure to get in another round of stretching. My right ankle was starting to chafe from my shoe at this point, but rain was heading our way, and I wanted to get through all the wetness in the first pair of shoes, so I tried my best to ignore that part.

But things were getting hard, quickly, the real contemplation of quitting was starting in on me hard now. I’ve never felt like that at an ‘A’ race before, never. During the Dances with Dirt 50 mile and Govnor’Dodge 50k I thought about pulling out, but stuck with it to the end. Arktos, I quit before my clock expired due to the ankle issues. But every ‘A’ race brought with it the will to not only survive the race but thrive throughout.

On the move again, up to Sccupernong, where I ran Arktos and injured my ankle, the only time I pulled out of a race. This was before the 2023 Kettle 100, and now back onto that same loop. It’s rather funny how powerful the mind is, because sure enough, that left ankle started hurting in the same exact place and only while I was on that loop.

Finally, the first 50k done, and I’m back to ZZ/Scuppernong and my mom is there! Time to put on a happy face, but I feel she can see right through it. Honestly, I’m happy to see her, she’s been such an inspiration and I try to hold onto that as long as possible. We talk for a bit and I get a little more to eat and stretch.

The long trek back begins, HWY 67, Wilton, McMiller and crew is there again. My hip is causing me so many issues. At this point Chad asks if I’d like some help with it. During Govnor’Dodge he did some active pressure point relief, and repeated the procedure here. Thankfully we were inside a little cabin type thing, so I didn’t need to lay on the wet grass while he worked the knots out. I was almost immediately relieved, this worked the pain out of each step and to my amazement, that specific pain never came back the entire rest of the run.

The rains had come and were on the way out now, but everything was still wet, and because of the pounding of hundreds of feet, the meadows were now a muddy, slippery mess. The soil is clay heavy there, and it got very slippery, making previously runnable sections, now a slow walk.

Back into the hills, mentally I was spiraling. I was trying to focus on the little goals, just get to the next aid station. There was a ton of time left. Besides, my friends there would never let me quit on this race. Just keep moving forward. I still hadn’t listened to any music or audiobooks yet, I was saving those until dark. Which, was closing in pretty quickly. Doing some math while passing Bluff, there was no way I was going to make it in before dark, and I didn’t grab my headlamp before setting out from the crew last time, so it was time to get a move on.

Having a new goal here, getting in before it get’s too dark to see anything, was a really good distraction from the pain and negative thoughts. I was able to talk with a 50k runner for a bit on the way to Tamarack, then started running to the finish, those last 5 miles back to Nordic, covered early in the morning on the way out in a blink, seemed to drag on for hours.

Closing in on Nordic I passed the rest of the Wausau folk, it was really good to see some familiar faces. Carissa asked if I’d be going back out after the 100k turnaround and I was surprised to hear myself say “of course, they’ll have to pull me from the course.” Where in the hell did that come from? I saw the others, every quick conversation was words of encouragement and perseverance, as if saying them would help to make it so, and in a strange way I think they did.

Back into Nordic now, while it’s quite dark, thankfully this last bit was very easy terrain, much like a mowed road heading in. I met up with Jake, Luke and Nicole straight away, they had a nice little changeover spot setup on a deck, it was perfect. A little hot food, a dry shirt, new shoes and socks and finally able to tape that troubled spot on my ankle that was chafing. Luke cleaned up my feet and Jake did a great job on taping, (how did I get so lucky that people were willing to do this?!?) I was a little concerned when the first layer of tape started to turn red, but it was feeling so much better. This was pretty much the best I felt since the first 10 miles. I was feeling so good in fact, I forgot one rather important piece of gear before heading back out, my portable battery, but I did have some borrowed trekking poles.

Now, you may be asking yourself, wasn’t this guy planning on quitting at 100k?

Well, I certainly wanted to, it’s another 38 miles in an out and back yet to go. I hurt, I was tired, but I had a ton of time on the clock and no singular pain was bad enough to pin an injury on.

But most of all, what it really came down to. Having done a number of hard things to this point in my life and looking back at them, the pain is never what’s remembered. The lingering question of Did I give it everything I had? is. Where are the points I could have pushed harder, what in my training could have been better, and where did I fail to execute on race day? That’s what I remember, and looking back, had I pulled out at the 100k, I would have never forgiven myself. There was nothing wrong with me, there was no valid excuse for not pushing on. THE PAIN IS TEMPORARY.

Back out on the trail, I finally started in on the audio book I’d been saving, one from a Fantasy Lit RPG series, which wasn’t very entertaining. But it turned out that didn’t matter much, as my phone died before long, and the watch chirped at me that it had 5% battery left, at which point, I realized I forgot to bring the portable battery.

Through the dark, the moving gets slower. My only focus is to get to the next aid station, there’s still a lot of time on the clock, just keep moving forward. Getting to Bluff was great, the station I crewed last year, and saw some familiar faces. They had some encouraging words for me, and it was nice to see them again.

Past Bluff was the turn towards Rice Lake, this section was all new now, in the dark it was slow moving over single track. Focused on getting to Duffin then HWY 12 where I’d see Jake again. At this point, all the other crew were out pacing with the other runners, and it was a one man show.

I saw most of the Wausau folk before getting to HWY 12, part of the growing stream of runners heading back in for the finish after tagging Rice Lake. I keep moving forward, a steady run walk, looking forward to that turnaround for myself. I share well wishes to those I pass, the pacers look fresh, the racers look tired, we’re all hurting out here in the night.

Making it to HWY 12, Jake finds me while I’m trying to stay on my feet to remove a water bottle to fill out. I don’t know how I’ve gotten so unsteady, but he guides me to a chair and takes care of the bottles. I get the watch plugged in, there was 2% left! Just in time. These stops are getting longer, I’m not stretching anymore, just enjoying the few minutes off of my feet. I make sure to get proper food in, just like every other aid station, thankful I’m able to keep eating.

Off again, won’t see crew any longer, Jake will be at the finish now, 22.1 miles to go. This section to Rice Lake is more technical than anything else on the course, through a woods where a familiar smell hits me. I have no clue what plant this is, but it accompanied me throughout training for and racing the last 100, and I hadn’t recalled smelling it since. It’s a bit floral, fresh smelling and always comes in short batches. If you have any guesses, please leave a comment.

Through this section I passed Ryan and Em, they were heading back, we got to talk a bit, or should I say commiserate. Being about 7 miles ahead of me, I knew they’d be waiting awhile for me at the finish line.

Getting closer to Rice Lake and I’m only seeing people coming back, they’re looking rough.

How bad must I look at this point? How far back in the race am I? Feeling like I’m pulling up the very end of it. It’s so dark out here, I just want to sit down for a bit on the side of the trail. Some of these lights people have are blinding, worse than driving at night. How much further is this stupid lake!?

After an eternity, the path starts leading downhill, and there’s some random guy, around 4am, on the path, trying to talk to me about essential oils and crystals? Is this for real or the most vivid hallucination I’ve had? Strangeness aside, I keep moving, the turnaround is shortly after. It’s quiet here, low energy, I grab a bite and lay down on a picnic table to stretch out again. From here, every step is leading back home. This is the point where I finally feel the finish line, 7.5 hours to make it 19 miles. JUST KEEP MOVING.

Heading back, my phone now on the charger, I pop in the ear buds and resume the boring book. Past the shady salesman, and I’m feeling dizzy still. Keep climbing out to the single track, people are still coming at me, I’m not in last place. Back to HWY 12 just as the sun is coming up. Shit, the sun is coming up, and I don’t have crew access, or sunscreen, or a hat, or sunglasses. Damnit.

There are no longer people around, alone on the trail, but pointed home. Most everything hurts, I’m still feeling dizzy and sometimes think I’m going to puke on the trail. KEEP MOVING FORWARD.

I make it to Duffin with 5 hours left in the race, happy to find out the next stop is Bluff. I had thought there was yet another aid station in between, a bit of great news. At this point there’s 10 miles to go. Runners come in behind me, so I’m not actually alone out here, but they’re looking rough, also dizzy. I talk with a lady who hasn’t been able to eat in a while, but she’s trying now. It’s 30 minutes a mile to make cutoff I tell her, you can do this. She says she’s so close, but is on the verge of being done. YOU CAN DO THIS. (If you see this, let me know if you finished, I didn’t recall her name or bib).

In trying to motivate her, it worked on myself. I CAN DO THIS was finally starting to roll around in my head. It sucks, everything hurts, but the only way to make it stop is by finishing.

Back to Bluff and feeling more confident, the rest of the trail is easier terrain, a long walk to Tamarack and I sit for a couple of minutes, the start on the last 5 in a run/walk. Earbuds back in, I want to put my mind somewhere else for 3 miles.

1 mile to go, emotions are hitting me hard now, I walk and let them overcome me. My legs are on fire, I’m no longer dizzy and I feel overwhelmed. Thinking back to mile 16 and falling off the group, wanting to pull out then. Knowing my heart wasn’t in the race, but somehow finding the stubbornness to keep pushing.

I see Jake 1000 yards out from the finish, and become overwhelmed by the emotions of it, vocalizing and admitting I wanted to quit for 80+ miles. Thankful to be at this point, I jog to the line and see friends waiting for me, welcoming me back from the journey.

So what happened, why was this one not the race I expected?

Perhaps, this is exactly the race I should have expected.

Coming off of the injury deferral, I never really felt like my confident self through training again. Not pushing as hard, feeling like the workouts were a chore, rather than building towards something larger. Life had gotten busy with a new job position, starting a new LLC and another side project on top of that one. The focus was lost on running being a life motivator, that thing that makes you get out of bed early, or have 1 or 2 fewer beers while out with friends.

It just wasn’t a priority in my life, leading to my heart not being in it, and when you’re not 100% committed, the quit button becomes easier to find.

However, I’m happy with how I responded along the way. In the moment, in the pain, I was able to take that step back, realize that I would always regret quitting on this when I was already out on the course. Being able to pivot, focused on the short term goals of reaching the next aid station just kept me moving from one to the next, grinding. I’m very thankful to have had friends there with me as well, even when not with me, their support was still felt, and I knew they would have not let me give up on myself.

It’s easier in a race than it is in life. The path before you is clear, well marked and hard to get off course. But the grind is the same, keep moving forward and FINISH WHAT YOU START.