Days 2,974-5 —Lost in the Rain— with a PICTURE from the RACE

Part 1: Why I did this Race 

After completing my goal distance of 100 miles, I started getting complacent in my runs. I knew I needed another 100-mile race on my calendar, but I was hesitant to jump into a trail one, so I stumbled upon the Lighthouse 100. It seemed too good to be true. The only caveat was it looked like I needed a crew and I had to travel 9 hours there and 10 hours back, but it looked like exactly the kind of race I wanted to do. 

It was in June when I am off. It was supposed to be cool weather. It was a point to point, and it was pretty. I was imagining myself strolling next to the lake front passing lighthouses as my hair bounced in the comfortable breeze. When my dad said he was willing to drive and do some crewing, I signed up. 

Part 2: the Drive Up 

Smooth sailing up until we hit traffic and our expected time of arrival only gave us 5 minutes before the packet pickup area closed. 

I know it doesn’t really matter because I could pick it up in the morning, but I like to meet people from the race because it helps me mentally start preparing. I was a little frustrated with the request of needing basically three light sources. I thought I had everything, but I had to buy two additional lights that blink for extra security. Also, the pickup time was not exactly convenient with a 6 p.m. close time. However, the race director, Ethan, was writing excellent e-mails that explained everything thoroughly and effectively.

When I got to the packet pickup, Ethan greeted me with a friendly handshake and helped me with my things. I immediately felt better and could tell he was doing most of the work himself. As hard as it is to run one of these things, I am sure it can be more difficult to put one on without a lot of help. 

I also found out, he had to deal with a lot of local ordinances that prevented him from doing things that were more common in other races I had competed in. 

Part 3: the Morning of 

We left a little before 5 a.m. to make it to the start line by the required 30 minutes before the start. This was another anomaly, I had not experienced before, but Ethan had some important announcements to go over before we started. 

I walked around slowly as I munched on a banana listening to him talking going over the rules. 

“ . . . there is going to be rain, so it is important to wear the lights . . . you will go straight across the toll bridge. I am sorry there was no place to put a sign. . .” 

He was well spoken. Everything he said was succinct, but all I could think about was the huge dog that was next to me on my left. It was a St. Bernard that looked like it weighted at least 200 pounds. It wanted to eat my banana peel.  

Part 4: the first 20 miles—3 hours and 30 minutes in—9:30 a.m.  

I was trying to hold back, but it was so nice. I ended up doing a lot of 9s and 10s but was taking frequent breaks to keep it easy. I ran with this guy Adam that was doing it for the first time. His wife dutiful crewed for him and she gave me some water. What I loved about Adam was his optimism. He told me he woke up one day and was like, “life is short, so you got to do things!” He might not have trained like I did for his first 100, but he had the right attitude, just cruising along not taking things too seriously. 

He took a picture of me at one point as we marveled at the nice neighborhoods and beautiful water and sunrise we were enjoying. I lost him around 21, but he was great to run with. We talked about family and working with kids. He said he did a few training marathons to get ready for the race. Although, he felt confident in his training he said a handful of people were suggesting, “Maybe start with an official marathon?”

 Adam was not letting that kind of doubt get him down. He was approaching the race considering the big picture. Sure, is it possible that something will happen to stop me from finishing? Yeah, but that is not a reason not to try. And why not do something instead of nothing?  

Part 5: Up until Mile 48—8 hours and 50 minutes in—2:50 p.m. 

My dad was supposed to meet me and start crewing for me at 48. I suggested he start looking for me at 10 hours at the earliest, and I ended up being a full hour earlier. 

I ran the section with, Keith, a sub three-hour marathon guy who had completed multiple ultras before. He was doing this one on his own, but had planned to do it with a special person in his life, but things unfortunately hadn’t worked out, and he was on his own. He had been cruising past me for much of the race, but then he turned the wrong way. 

At the time, I didn’t know it was Keith who went the wrong way, but this runner told me shocked as I was about to pass her, “some guy just went the wrong way!” 

I asked her if we could possibly shout at him if we went around the turn, but she said he was moving too fast. I was going to try anyway, so I started turning to chase after him, but someone crewing pulled up in a truck, and we asked him to help” 

Keith told me his version of the story when I caught him about ten miles later. We figured he ended up adding about .8 miles when we compared are watch times, not too bad considering, but for Keith going the wrong way was inevitable. He had mentioned it as a likely outcome earlier. 

In the morning it seemed tough but not impossible to stay diligent going the right way on the course. There were so many people crewing throughout the that I usually ran into someone to verify where I was going. The course did not have many signs, so it wasn’t unusual for me to wonder if I was going the right way, but at this point in the course I was always running with someone else, so it was a concern, but easier to manage with someone else.

Part 6: Up until Mile 77—14 hours and 51 minutes in—8:51 p.m. 

Keith was hurting as it started to rain and we were running more frequently on busy roads. It was only drizzling at first while the sun was still out but by 8 p.m. the rain was bad enough to start creating giant looming puddles. I danced around some, but what was the point? Everything I had on was wet.   

Keith had taped his foot up with moleskin but given the rain it had come off and he was now dealing with constant pain. I tried the best I could to help him through this rough spot. I gave him my dry socks at mile 72, but I was starting to get so cold, so when we started back up again, I ran fast just to warm up. He had moleskin at mile 82, so I knew he was going to get the help he needed eventually, but it was still tough to leave him behind. 

I yelled, “sorry, but I am so cold,” as I started to move at a faster pace.

I caught up to Jo who had been trading spots with me throughout the race. I first met her probably around mile 30, but she was keeping a good consistent pace, so whenever I saw her pass me, I knew it was time to get moving. She was doing her first 100 ever and she was crushing it. Talking to her about her training, I could tell how seriously she was taking everything. She was focused and had a solid plan that she was executing. She also had an amazingly supportive husband there crewing who was on it. He also gave me some type of icy that had electrolytes in it that was excellent and some water at one point.   

I lost her when she needed a break. I know it was light and dry then, but not sure the exact mile. I remember she passed me again at mile 72. 

At mile 77 I hit the wall. I knew it was going to happen eventually just not when. I thought it would have been more likely to experienced more of a struggle from 50-70, so I kept holding back and drinking water. However, mile 77 just punched me in the face. Everything hurt of course. Also, I was cold and wet, and it was getting harder to see. 

I told my dad let’s switch to stopping ever 2 miles instead of 5, so I wouldn’t need to carry my vest anymore. I drank some of my cold brew coffee and ate what I could. I was miserable, and I was in pain, but I knew it would pass.

I went back out and ran another 2 miles going to mile 79. I knew that sitting too long when it was cold and wet wasn’t going to help me feel better, but instead make it harder for me to accumulate to the weather.  

I didn’t change any of my wet clothes, but I did take off my sunglasses and put on most of night reflection stuff and went back out. 

 Part 7: Up until Mile 85—16 hours and 30 minutes in—10:37 p.m. 

At mile 79, I was already feeling a better and decided to change into a dry shirt and to figure out my rain hood. I broke out the headphones. Sure, it was cold, wet, and raining, but now I got tunes. The aid station was at mile 82, so my dad was planning to meet me at 84. I made sure to empty my pockets and only carry one water bottle. 

I was starting to find my rhythm again. I started racing. When aid station 82 came, I was irritable because it was hard for me to find. When the woman at the aid station gave me some coffee, I got over it. 

The guy told me it was all downhill from where I was. Going downhill sounded great after just completing what seemed like countless rolling hills. 

I started run and I saw the small town. People were out at bars drinking. Some shouted at us, “Do you want some beer?”  

At the bottom of the hill was another runner standing there waiting for the toll bridge to go down. I said, “Hi” to him and joked how I assumed this was going to happen when I got here. 

He was disappointed with the bridge and mentioned if I pass him, I will be in 4th place overall. I dismissed what he said because it just seemed too farfetched to be true. I was trying not to think about it anyway. The race wasn’t over, and we still had a long way left to go. 

Getting Lost 

Now, I am on my own running downhill against traffic on what looks like a highway. It is raining. It is foggy, and there are so many lights going in every direction that I am having a difficult time staying on the road. Once or twice, I accidently stepped into grass or sand thinking it was the road. 

My dad was supposed to be at 83, but I didn’t see him when I got there. I turned around and saw the lights from the two runners I passed earlier, and thought I was going in the right direction. I was making every effort to triple check each time there was an intersection to make sure I didn’t miss a sign. 

But, now I am on mile 84 and all I see is a highway in front of me! Now, no one is behind me, and I don’t know what to do if I am going the wrong way. Should I climb back up this highway? Only to find out I was going the right way all along? 

I think that I see my dad’s car out in the distance, or that I see one of the lighthouse signs, but still nothing to verify that I am going the right way. 

I am reaching that point mentally where I am starting to feel how dangerous what I am doing is. I am running against traffic on the side of a highway in the rain and the fog. I cannot see the road because all the lights are making it impossible for me to see, so it is taking a lot of effort to keep from falling. 

I am moving fast, not that I am thinking about my pace anymore. Suddenly,  I see a car pulled off the highway. It looks like someone crewing for someone else. I think that I have finally received confirmation that I am going the right way, but then the guy says, “Hey are you running the Lighthouse?”

I told him I was. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on that path?” 

I couldn’t see what he was talking about. 

“What path?” 

There was a bike path that had been running parallel to the highway I had been running on this entire time, but I could not see it. 

He asked me to come over to him so he could confirm who I was. When I learned I missed a turn, I was devastated. He said I didn’t need to go back but just turn onto the path, but I was thinking I must have cut off some time somehow. They both told me that it was unlikely that I lost any distance, but the woman seemed to think it was possible, so I was worried. Next, I called and left a VM for my dad, so he would know I was all right and where to try to find me next. I told him to try to catch me at the last aid station. And then, Joe passed me, so I took that as a cue that I might not have lost the distance that I first suspected. 

These two individuals who caught me on the highway saved me. I know other people were involved, but I am so thankful for their assistance. 

Part 8: Up until Mile 88—17 hours and 3 minutes in—11:40 p.m.

I was hoping that I would see my dad at mile 88 with my coffee and Vaseline, but he was not there. I stayed at the station too long calling him multiple times from a woman’s phone who was very nice and patient with me. I was still worried I had somehow cut off some of the distance from the race, and I was dreading the scenario of me approaching the finish line a little short of a 100. The packet said the aid station was at mile 88.1, and my watch said 88.17, so at first, I was relieved that it was not going to make a difference, but when I asked how far until the finish one of the works told me 11 miles, which made me think I had somehow lost around .8. 

So, I did what any rational ultra-marathon runner would do. I started running in circles by the aid station to add the distance. I then ran back to the aid station but turned around when I saw Joe. I was not completely confident that I had made up the time yet, but Joe consistently was going slower than me, so it seemed like I must have made up the time.

I told Joe what I was trying to do, and he encouraged me to stop obsessing over the lost distance, and since he was the guy, I most likely was going to be finishing in front of I listened. 

He wished me luck as I pulled away from him. All I could see in front of me was the darkness from the night and the reflections that my lights were catching on the rain and the fog. I started to think—where is this lighthouse? Is it at the finish line? 

Part 9: Up until Mile 94—18 hours and 16 minutes in—12:16 a.m. 

I see someone suddenly on the trail flagging me down. It is the woman from the aid station! She said she spoke with my dad and that he is at the finish line waiting for me! Finally, it was confirmed that he was getting my messages and knew where I was. I felt elated. She gave me some water and watermelon! 

I ate the watermelon and thanked her profusely. Now, I had nothing to hold me back. It was time to start racing.  

Part 10: Finishing at mile 100.78—19 hours 25 minutes—1:25 a.m. 

When I got to the finish, it was deserted, but I saw the big clock, so I was confident that this was it! This was the finish line!!! I pushed until the end running two 10:30s. Ethan, the race director was alone behind his computer, and he congratulated me and confirmed my place of 4th overall. By then my dad saw me and approached me and took some pictures for the fam. He felt bad he missed me finish but I liked the reason. I just finished faster than he thought I would. 

After 

It is not my story to tell, but I was so pleased to see that Jo, Joe, Keith, and Adam all finished with exceptional times. And to be clear this is a race where 31 runners finished and 40 DNFed, so finishing at all would have been an accomplishment, but they all did better than finish. Joe as suspected came in after me, Jo after him, and Keith was a few spots back from Jo. Adam finished impressively close to the top half. Without their support and camaraderie, I know I wouldn’t have been able to finish where I did. Thank you all so much! I wish I would have waited at the finish line to greet you, but I was not exactly making a lot of sense at that point in the night. Also, thanks to Blaze who gave me some watermelon at one point in the race. That watermelon was amazing man! You lit me up.  

And—thank-you-thank-you-thank-you-so-much to the volunteers who saved me: the woman who met me at mile 94 and the two that stopped me on the side of the highway! You three made this finish possible: I am eternally grateful. 

And my dad thanks for joining me on this adventure and supporting me each step of the way. Thanks for never trying to talk me out of doing things that might seem a little crazy. And all my family and their support from back home. My wife and daughter served as a great motivator to make it home.