Froggy Mountain 100 Galax, Virginia, June 21, 2024 #74

"Pain is Irrelevant"

“I may not be skilled or polished

I may not be strong or tall

And I may not place at the head of the race

with the mightiest runners of all.

But I have a heart of fire,

and I have the will to win,

the race doesn't go to the swift or the strong,

But to those who endure to the end”

A favorite song from my teenage years in seminary, mom sent it to me one morning out training for Froggy Mountain 100. Who knew at 15 I'd be preparing to not only run, but to win, arguably one of, if not the top, most difficult races in America. Win The Race - EFY - Kenneth Cope and Julie De Azevedo - YouTube 

I came off of Cruel Jewel feeling confident in my training for Ouray 100 out in Colorado in July, but knowing I would have 11,000 more technical vertical climb, with a 52-hour cutoff in the extreme environment of the high-altitude Rocky Mountains, it was time to step up my training. Froggy Mountain became my test and symbol of my ability to achieve a finish at Ouray.

Last year I met the most amazing people running and winning Froggy Mountain 100, taking home a folded flag for Dexter as my prize. Who knew that a year later I would be living in sight of that flagpole, about to become part owner in Froggy Mountain Adventures, living on site and helping to maintain the grounds and stage exciting and epic races on this unassuming, but sneakily difficult meandering course that winds itself around a small mountain in Galax Virginia, boasting 500 feet of vertical climb and descent on a 1 mile trail.

As I've written, I've experienced some major upheaval in my life, and I've spent many long training hours in the last month on the trail, working through heavy burdens I'm carrying in my heart while trying to strengthen my body and will to perform at the highest level possible. I've spent at least 12 hours per week training on steep terrain with a weighted pack, while also running hills on other days, to prepare my legs for the challenge of the mind-blowing vert I was about to face at Froggy. the long hours in the dark have been full of challenge, meaning and soul searching. Living on site at Froggy Mountain with ultra legends Paul Tilley and Kevin Silvey has been a wonderful opportunity to develop deep friendship and cooperation as we've faced several large challenges preparing the course and property for runners to descend and camp and pursue their dreams and goals on our course. These two AMAZING race directors have taken me under their wing like a sister, and its been such a gift to work together. I am so excited about the future of Froggy Mountain and other races we will stage here in addition to our 50/100 miler every June.

Leading up to Froggy, I'd gone to Florida to crew my good friend Brandon at a difficult 100k, got some beach time and a chance to visit with my son Isaac and his wife and adorable children. Seeing Isaac prompted a month long pondering on the story of Abraham and Isaac in the Bible, who he is named after.

The story of Abraham and Isaac involves one of the most agonizing tests of faith ever recorded. God instructs Abraham to take what he loved the very most in life, something he'd waiting a lifetime for, his only son, and commands him to lay him on an altar and slay him. The ultimate test of faith. A test that revealed his genuine faith and trust and love of his creator, willing to give his only son to the Father in Heaven who he loved even more. Abraham, because he is faithful, is then blessed with a divine inheritance because of his willingness to sacrifice. There's a lot of principles there that hit home to me, when you've lost pretty much everything you care about and hold dear, and you're trying to just do the will of the Lord the best you can, it can be agonizing wondering if you will receive promised blessings. The long torturous walk to the altar of sacrifice, in training, in your personal life, to lay down every gift -knowing the consequences may break your heart beyond repair, it's the trust and confidence in the God who has always walked with you that gives you the strength to do it. As I had my eyes trained on winning Froggy Mountain, completing Ouray 100, and various other personal issues, I knew sacrifice was the name of the game. Laying everything on the line. I trusted I'd win Froggy and continue to trust Gods promises would come to my life as always but with greater power when what is most valuable is sacrificed. Its an unexpected hit, when you have that Abrahamic test come into your life. It will likely drag you to your knees.

Anyway, kind of crazy weird thing to include in a race report, but its where my mind and heart were in training.

It was so exciting to have all the runners arrive on Thursday Evening before the race. Paul and Kevin had worked all week to complete our beautiful and iconic staging point of the race, an aid station made in old world style, it would become the party center with music and food for the duration of the 60-hour event. I spent the day before carbing up on my favorite, sourdough bread, raw honey & apples. I'm sure Kevin fed us a prerace dinner, but I had so many nerves I can't remember much about pre-race, except that I got to bed and took some Tylenol pm for a 7-hr. night's sleep. Didn't know if it'd be sufficient for being awake for 2 nights but it was an improvement over the 3 I had for Cruel Jewel!

Race morning was so exciting, a decent sized group of 50- & 100-mile runners, though the weather appeared it would be a scorcher, with daytime temps heading to 85-90 for the weekend. It was awesome to have some amazing friends at the race to both run and volunteer!

I started out feeling really strong. Running Froggy Mountain with a 20lb pack for a month, now I was well rested and only had my near empty pack with photos and a few personal items, the hills came easy! I had been doing 27-minute miles during my training climbs with the weighted pack, without it I was keeping an 18-minute mile average for the first few loops which put me near the front of the pack. I wasn't in first place, but I knew to stay steady and solid and bide my time, eventually I had confidence the runners would start to burn out and I'd slowly pull ahead.

My strategy for the race was basically to keep moving. With the world's greatest aid station and ultrarunning chef leading the show, the temptation was very great to stop to talk and partake of the most delicious food you will ever eat at a race! I let Kevin know at the beginning of the race, that part of my strategy would be not getting into conversations with him because he can talk your ear off with the most interesting and motivating things to say. <3 I had no pacers or crew lined up, so he said he'd take care of me and kept bottles filled for every loop as I'd run through with warm cocoa and liquid IV so that I could grab quickly and keep running. I didn't plan to eat a lot of food in the heat, and I had simple favorite treats and snacks in my drop bag, but I was lured into eating all the food, because you simply can't resist what comes out of Kevin Silvey's kitchen, lol. I think the best food of the weekend was sausages wrapped in pancakes, dripping with raw Froggy Mountain honey, and Killer Daves raisin bread slathered with butter, honey and grape jelly. I don't know how much of that I ate, but it was significant, lol.

Everyone was doing their best to stay cool in the heat and hydrating and making good time, but it didn't take long for the heat and strenuous climbs to take their toll. By as early as 13-20 miles runners began to drop out of the race. I really loved meeting everyone and spending some time with Facebook friends who were running, especially Scott Perry & Charles Raffensperger. Scott did us all a favor by counting all the obstacles which we needed to climb over. 44 per loop. That equals 2200 for 50s and 4400 for 100s! A ridiculous number of irritating logs that keep you from taking advantage of opening up on the few runnable places. Sometime late afternoon I became aware that an unwelcome and uninvited non-runner had come to the property and caused a stir and made threats. It was a personal issue that should not have interfered with our race. The person was escorted from the property, but it was very stressful and I worried about it for the remainder of the race. I worried about my co-race directors, but they smoothed everything over and kept the party and food going, and as we went into the night the forest rang out with music and laughing and the sound of friends and volunteers singing karaoke at the aid station. I felt a little jealous I couldn't stop and party, but I had a job to do, and that was to keep my title of winner of the Froggy Mountain 100.

I felt really pleased with my performance that I was on track for doing a 22 hour 50 miles. 50 miles on this course is near the equivalent of any other 'easy' 100. I hoped the weather would improve after sunset but the air in the forest was so stagnant and heated that it never really cooled down. Somewhere around mile 30 the race for the finish began. There were some very strong men out running the race. My main competitor was stronger and faster than me. His ultra signup boasts harder races and much faster finish times. He had been ahead of me for the duration of the race, but when we took a break to shower, I was able to gain a loop on him. Paul informed me at that point that I was currently sitting at the #1 position. I was shocked and determined to keep it! When this runner came back on course, it became a showdown. He ran faster and stronger than me and was attempting to catch up, so I laid it all on the line and stayed exactly 1 loop ahead of him for each loop. He was only a few feet behind or in front of me as we rolled into the aid station every loop. However, he would stop for a few minutes to sit and refuel or cool down, and I would just keep moving. I'd grab some food or hydration on the run and try to stay ahead of him. He would catch up by the end of the loop. My mind is so fuzzy over events, I can't remember for how long we played this game, but I was told that he gave up and dropped out at 40 miles. The next runner was something like 7 loops behind me, so all I needed to do was stick to my course and a win would be in the books. That seemed a done deal, but the race wasn't done by a long shot, and I had a host of challenges to face. I was almost derailed by the heat.

The crushing descents over and over gave me blisters under several toenails. I was in alot of pain. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and cut toe holes in my shoes which solved the problem immediately. Saturday was a long-wet day. Not wet from rain, but wet from ice being shoved in my hat, down my shirt and getting a sponge bath over my arms, neck and head to keep my body temperature down. With each mile loop taking 30 minutes in the heat and the humidity running high, it was necessary to cool down every loop. I slowed significantly and as the day wore on, the 50 milers finished up and soon it was just the 100 milers left on the course. I was glad of this, it's easier for me to suffer in privacy. I did have the opportunity to talk to Matt, a chinook combat vet. We talked a little about his service and friends he had who were killed in action or died by suicide. He thanked me for being out on the course with my pictures and I asked Kevin back at the aid station to take special care of our on-course hero. I didn't want to eat in the daytime. I drank an ice-cold soda every single loop and Kevin forced me and the other runners to eat sandwiches, burgers, sliders, pasta, whatever magic was on the grill. I fought it, nothing sounded good, but everything stayed down and gave me needed calories.

Amazing friends <3

The heat of the day persisted well into the night. Moving forward with the ice routine well past 1 am, I could feel the effects of the heat taking its toll. I didn't remember that you could get heat exhaustion in the night, but I felt a lot like I did back when I dnf'd Mohican 100 for heat exhaustion. Kevin tried to get me to eat. I wouldn't. I drank a bottle of liquid Iv and proceeded to vomit up the entire thing. I felt feverish and couldn't cool down. Nauseous, staggering, near fainting, I left the aid station and kept stumbling forward through the night. I couldn't eat much of anything and had hours ago. I was so exhausted, I stopped at several points on the 1-mile loop to nap on either the ground or a pallet laying by the water aid station. Our good friend and Froggy 100 finisher from last year, Zach Coggins, took over the aid station in the wee hours of the morning when seemingly no one was left awake. He stayed alert and helpful and kept me going, helping with whatever needs I had as I rolled through the aid station. Halfway through my last loop before sunrise, the heat had finally taken it's toll on my body and at mile 89.5 I dropped flat on my back on the middle of the trail, unable to convince myself to keep going. I fell asleep. No one else was out I guess, because nobody came upon me. I don't know how long I slept but when I woke up it was around 48 hrs. since I had started the race. I looked up at the early morning sun in the trees and listened to Kevin on the microphone at the aid station. I could see the aid station from the trail. I knew if I just hiked straight down through the woods, my race could be over and I could shower, go to sleep and stop being sick. I knew that decision would take me off the trail and would be the end of my race at 89.5 miles. After a fierce internal battle, I determined to at least make the second hard climb to get to the aid station correctly and finish my race at mile 90. I didn't feel safe to continue and thought if I didn't get rehydrated and cooled down at the aid station I might need a visit to an urgent care center.

When I got to the aid station, I did not intend to continue. Paul, Kevin, Zack, and some good friends from our running club, Tony & Ed, were standing around talking. I could see by the looks on their faces they were concerned about me and kind of knew that I was finished. I didn't want to tell anyone. I took off my pack and laid down on the retro trash couch we'd make from some old, gutted van seats and fell asleep.

When I woke up, amazing Paul the milkman, who has so many times encouraged me through difficult miles with his quiet but piercing comments, reminded me that it was my choice, but that I only had 10 laps to finish and that I could do it. I deliberated. I did not want to. Ultimately, the fact that Ed and Tony had come to pace me and were waiting, and knowing that I couldn't let Dexter, Dillon, Morgan, Jacob, Jake, and Taylor down. We trained so hard for this win; I couldn't walk away no matter how sick I felt. With unseen hands on my back, I felt the reminder that I would be blessed to finish. A blessing of a covenant relationship with God is that you will run and not be weary and walk and not faint. I needed to trust the latter. Without a word I went down to my tiny house, and Tony told me he thought I was finished then. Instead, I changed into clean pants & underwear. I'd embarrassingly peed my pants when I puked up the liquid IV everywhere, lol. The sun was already glaring hot when I started forward with Ed. The rest had done me good, I had to continue icing but we were able to make steady progress. He paced a loop or two and then Tony paced me as well. It was so good to have the distraction and I was so grateful for the friendship. The miles went by more quickly. Matt, the veteran I'd met earlier, thanked me again for being out there. He said I had given him the thought to look back and reflect and that it'd been good for him. I was grateful for his words.

I had trench foot from the wet shoes. Someone loaned me their dirty socks & they got wet, too.

Kevin then came out and did 2 laps with me and we discussed the race disturbance earlier. I was really bothered by it but so grateful he and Paul had handled things as well as they possibly could and had kept me and all the runners safe and made sure the race wasn't affected.

For some reason when Kevin and I finished our 2 loops, I thought I only had 2 to go. I was sooo relieved and glad about it that, when Paul told me I actually had 4 loops to go. I was completely demolished. I felt equally angry and in despair. How could that count be right? I could have 2-3 hours to continue on that cursed brutal mile!!! I felt my emotions break. I felt I was about to have an emotional breakdown. I cried over how miserable I was, over the turmoil in my life and heart. I wanted to walk away from the course, get in my car and drive away, to someplace. Anywhere. I didn't know how to start the last 4 miles. I stared at the bucket of sodas and ice water, unable to get my brain to work. Unable to move. I just stood there looking at the ice. Kevin offered me food and I refused, so he gave me some really tough love and said, "if you're not going to eat, then get the F*** out of my aid station." That jolted my brain back to reality and to troubleshooting. I cried and said I needed soda and ice. He helped sponge my head and arms, then put his arm around me and said something like “This is your mountain. You own this. You go claim this win and this buckle.” It was enough to get me out of the aid station.

I left and went about 50 yards....daunted again by facing the sun and the climb. I sat down into another chair and cried for 5-10 minutes. Then I remembered, I said I was going to win this race. I prayed for help winning this race. If it took me the rest of the day, I was going to get it done. I didnt want to talk to anyone or do anything but trudge forward. Id been focusing so hard on making good time and finishing that I really hadn't put my thoughts or heart towards my Marines, so that is what I did those last miles. We conversed in that way that you do with unseen friends, and the minutes ticked by slowly. An eternity later, with nothing left in my body, heart, or soul to give, I finally crossed the finish in tears. I had to take a few moments to collect myself. Kevin had Sabatons "Primo Victoria" song about DDay playing for me. "Through the gates of hell, on our way to heaven..."

Big hugs from all our friends that remained, I became the 2x finisher, 2x winner of the Froggy Mountain 100 mile ultramarathon, with over 100,000 vertical gain and loss in 100 miles. The most of any in the country.

After a hot magnesium bath in the Froggy Mountain outdoor bathtub, I finally finished the ordeal.

I was drained and I had a hard time celebrating. There was a lot of stress after the race and events that had happened, and it's taken several days for me to wrap my head around the fact that I did something super cool and hard and I accomplished my goals it in a time I felt comfortable going into Ouray, with confidence that I can finish that race.

In the week that has followed, The guys at Froggy Mountain Adventures and I have decided to implement a plan to become a 3 team LLC, sharing ownership of the property 3 ways, and work as a team to continue to develop amazing events at Froggy Mountain, including a last man standing race and possibly a 50 k as well as some training camps where we can help teach newer ultrarunners how they can bring home their own 100 buckle. I am so excited. Kevin and Paul are my family and always will be. I am so excited for this adventure. Once I mentally recover from this race, I will start thinking about coming back in 2025 to defend my title.

As always, run in memory of my precious son PFC James Dexter Morris, and my angel team of heroes, PFC Morgan Daly. Ssgt Taylor Wilson, Sgt Jacob Gray, Lcpl Jacob Crewson, PFC Dillon Jutras, KIA 2005.

Next up. #75. Ouray 100, that has the reputation of being the most difficult 100 miler in America. We will see who takes the title! 75 is a pivotal number. It's the race of a lifetime. Its gonna hurt. Heading out to Ouray Colorado tomorrow alone for nearly 3 weeks of acclimation to high altitude and hiking the course. Froggy got me ready for the crucible, Lets go boys!