Since May I've been doing races with extreme vert, so I was really looking forward to going to Midwest States 100 to run on the Ice Age trail in Wisconsin. In my mind mentally, I just assumed this race would be flat or mildly rolling gentle climbs and as I left home to make the 16 hr drive from Galax to Wisconsin, I thought I probably wouldn't have much to write about for this race report. Before leaving home Kevin grilled me up another crazy huge serving of his steak & eggs and onions, and I cooked up some pancakes with raspberry jam....way more calories and carbs than I needed but dang if once in a while you don't just really indulge before running a 100 miler! Sadly, on a 16 hr. road trip I kept it up and probably consumed enough carb calories to run the entire race on... sometimes it do be like that! On the drive up I stopped at a ladies salad dinner at my church and met a super awesome lady, who "cooincidentally" lost her husband to suicide the same day Dexter died. She is also a single woman, loves to camp and garden and lives in a camper. It was amazing to get to know her.
Spent the drive to WI listening to podcasts & musicals, Chicago was a little scary to drive through but mostly it was just a beautiful drive, except for looking at the outside temps which were close to 87 degrees and 100% humidity with a high dew point. It was going to be suffocatingly hot.
Several hours into my drive, I got a text from my sister Susan that had me nearly run off the road with shock and grief and surprise. She shared that my young nephew, just a few years older than Dexter, had taken his life. Cameron is a happy, handsome husband and father of 5 small children, and has always been very friendly and kind and funny. Mine and my sisters' kids all spend many hours together in their early years during family picnics and holiday parties. I just could not believe that another one of my precious dear sisters was going to be living this nightmare of child loss through suicide. There are 6 of us girls, and despite some family arguments and estrangements, I believe we all truly love each other. To have 3 of us now, angel moms to beautiful sons who have died from mental illness issues is just a stunning and intolerable heartbreak. Lightning isn't supposed to strike a family 3x. I continued my drive to the race but with tumultuous emotions. Grieving for my sister and her family, I also berated myself for thinking I could make a difference for what I was doing. Here I am traveling and spending money I really don't have, to run all these miles and yet I can't even save people that I hold dear. :(
I had thought there might be a possibility to meet up with Shanen, PFC Morgan Daly's mother who lives in WI, but she'd just had surgery and our schedules couldn't quite work it out. At my last gas station before reaching packet pickup at the race, a big truck pulled in with the name MORGAN in huge letters on the side. I felt that thrill of presence and knew Morgan knew I was in his state and near his mother, and that he'd be there to help me through the course. I took it as a sign that regardless of what was happening or how I felt, I was at the right place at the right time.
I appreciate good friends who got on the phone with me and talked me through some of my grief. Kevin and my dear, dear friend Connie Karras from 22 Too Many. Connie and I had never met in person, but we 'met' on Facebook several years ago when we both ran Swammie Shuffle, a 200-mile race for veteran suicide awareness. Connie and I became friends, as she has served in the United States Marine Corps and dealt with demons of her own. Shes been an amazing support for me over the last few yrs, always encouraging me and believing in me, and carrying Dexter on her back when she runs. Unbelievably sad, she's an ultra-runner who developed long Covid which nearly killed her, physically and emotionally, and she's struggled the last few years to even move, let alone run. Because she lives in Indiana, a 4-5 hr drive from my race, she made plans to come out and meet me at the finish line and did some serious footwork to arrange a crew for me for the race. I didn't think I needed a crew, but her efforts made all the difference when this “easy” race became almost a fight for survival in the heat and humidity. Being emotional in the car, I ended up eating a bag of caramel corn, a couple protein bars, a big bag of Wisconsin cheese and corn nuts, a bag of autumn pumpkin candies, endless gum and sunflower seeds to stay awake until my mouth hurt, & Kevin also talked me into having an ice cream cone at the State Park lodge, in memory of Cameron, so I sat at a table and looked thru Cameron's photos on FB and ate my sad ice cream. :( Hung out looking at the pond for a bit, just thinking and feeling.
I took time pre-race in the porta john to tape up all the potential chafe areas, knowing in the heat and humidity I was going to spend the next 2 days soaking wet, and then slept in my car on a mattress in the race start parking lot. I slept deeply and thought I should be good for a 1 night race, after 4 consecutive 2 night 100 milers.
6am start, I met with my crew, Jess and Wes, this adorable young married couple who just randomly volunteered to help me for the weekend. They planned to meet me beginning at the second aid station and all the way through the race. I didn't have a lot of instructions for them, but gave them headlamps and told them just to be my brain at every stop. They went above and beyond all expectations for the race and I was sooo blessed to have them!
I started out the race in a real funk. It was dumb that I should even be thinking of myself at such a time, but I was depressed and heartbroken and feeling like my efforts were futile and maybe dumb. Maybe it doesn't mean much to anyone...it certainly hasn't helped my family. I'm living alone, missing my kids, traveling alone, not really dating anyone, no job yet...just sortof traveling and running and I questioned if what I was doing even meant anything. The morning was cool but killer humid, the Ice Age trail was green, stunningly beautiful, easily runnable except for the black tar glue muddy sections and significant climbs that I hadn't counted on. 75% perfect running trail in a green canopy of leaves, sprinkled sunlight, mushrooms and mud.
In the middle of this state of self-pity, wishing I was home and not really wanting to be running, out of order on my playlist Devil Dogs by Sabaton randomly came on. I gotta post a bunch of the lyrics because, man, that song hit me like a friggin sledgehammer. "When in times they are needed, such times they appear When a leader has fallen, a hero arise And inspire the lost into glorious deeds That would give them a name that live on to this day
"Come on, you sons of bitches, Do you want to live forever?"
Second to none, a marine and a gun Raising hell as they're fighting like dogs of war Heart of the corps, and a part of the lore The deadliest weapon on earth
Kill, fight, die That's what a soldier should do Top of their game, earning their name They were the Devil Dogs In a war machine They were the USA And since then They are the devil dogs of war Are the USA marines"
“When in times they are needed, such times they appear.” I was suddenly surrounded by a feeling of light and strength and love, and I swear I could feel a bit of the heart of each of the Marines I was carrying, and my friend Dillon. I had the thought come so clearly to my mind, in what felt like Morgans voice, that I was out there for a reason. That reason mattered. Their lives mattered. I needed to stop whining and get into the moment, into the joy of the forest, and get done with this business. It was like a shock to my heart and a wake up call to get my act together. That feeling lingered with me for several miles. I apologized out loud to my Marines and changed my thinking to determination and purpose. About that time a vet from I believe, the 101st airborne division, ran past me, told me he was serving active duty and thanked me for being out there on course. The timing was meaningful. I started to feel joy in running again.
I tried to block complaints of the heat and spent more time praying especially for my sister Melony and her family. Jess & Wes met me with everything I could possibly need at every aid station. They filled my bottles and had food, ice, encouragement. At every stop they helped me get in and out quickly. At one point in the heat of the day they spread out a blanket for me and I zonked out for an 8 minute nap.
There wasn't a lot of cell service on course, being very remote, so when I had a signal I would try to reach out to my family and see how plans were coming along for Cameron's funeral. Midafternoon as I was texting my sisters about it, I missed a completely huge and obvious turn sign, and ran an extra 3.5 miles off course and into a bog before I realized I was no longer seeing race markers. I had to backtrack and lost almost 2 hrs. of time. Up until then I was comfortably within race finish time. That was a huge setback that put me near the back of the pack. It was discouraging and I was miserable and hot, and I spent the rest of the run trying to make up time.
With the extra miles I ran out of fuel and calories. I was super grateful to find a sort of old and partially bad apple on the trail. I bit off and spit off the nasty part and finished the rest of it. It was delicious, lol. Another big favorite on the trail was some amazing pizza from a local tavern. I gobbled that right down. I also found some wild blackberries to nibble on. Happily, despite the heat I had very few stomach issues, except some late-night mild nausea. It never did cool off overnight. I used ice in my hat and down my pack until after 3am.
Around 10pm, I had to push hard because I had a hard cutoff. I didn't know if I could make it and it turned out this race actually had some decent climbs, my watch read 14k feet of gain by the finish! It slowed me down at times for sure, especially trying for that cutoff. I made it ran in and out of the main aid station, Start/Finish line, with 2 minutes to spare. I thought that I would be okay after that, but later found out I had another cutoff I had to make, after I'd relaxed my pace just a bit to recover in the morning heat from exhaustion and lack of sleep. The closed stuffy trail & mud and thick forest got very tiresome. Towards the afternoon in day 2, I found myself suffering with a mild fever and heat exhaustion. Despite meeting Wes and Jess with ice at every aid station and staying constantly wet, the dew point and humidity were nearly unbearable. I lost focus, got depressed and slow, and spend a good # of miles crying, realizing I was not going to complete the 100 because I got lost in the woods. Honestly though, I was glad to be done. I felt like garbage, and I just wanted to go home. I missed the cutoff at mile 80 by 15 minutes. I was ready to lay down and sleep then shower and go home. I decided one DNF a year was acceptable especially under the circumstances and accepted my defeat.
About that point, both Connie and Kevin called/texted me. Kevin gave his best tough love speech and basically told me I better not “f-ing stop.” DFS. "Don't f-ing stop." He boosted my morale and told me I was a total bada$$ <3 Then Connie called and told me that the race director would let me continue to finish the 100 miler if I kept going and that I would still get a buckle. UGH!!! I wanted to quit. I told Kevin I'd keep going, but I laid down on a blanket that Jess laid out for me and really just wanted to stop. Then, I remembered why I was there. Cameron. Dexter. Morgan, Jake. Jacob. Taylor. Nate. Jenn. Dillon. If I could find some fight still in me, and I could complete 100 miles on this course, I would do it. Disgusted at the thought of another 7 hours on the trail in the heat and humidity, it just didn't matter. I'd keep going. I closed my eyes for a few moments, let the people around me fill my shirt and hat with ice to lower my body temp and fever, fueled on something, I've no idea what...and I got back up and continued to where I would meet Connie who would pace a section for me. I was sooo excited to see her. I had to finish these miles. I couldn't let her down. Not with her belief in me, and the courage she has had fighting to live and be strong through a terrible illness. No matter what, I had to finish for her, too.
It was such a joy to finally meet Connie, to hug, to have both of us wearing our packs with our 22 too many heroes, she, carrying a picture of my Dexter on her back. What an amazing team of strong women and Marines we made! Maybe we were the only people left on the course, but we were going to complete that 100-mile distance. She kept me going. We talked and it distracted me from the misery. What felt like a miraculous tender mercy from Dexter, the sky clouded up and a cool breeze began to move through the forest so that most of the time, the temps were bearable as we made our way to the finish line. Connie, suffering from Lupus, could only run one section with me, but she gave me the friendship and courage I needed to finish.
One of my favorite photographers, and a facebook friend was out capturing the race, & her pics are always outstanding. She remembered that I collect heart shaped rocks, as does she. She found one on the trail as she was taking pics and saved it for me. It meant so much!! I grinned from ear to ear. So kind! :)
After Connie left and I had some 7-ish miles to cover, I felt strong, happy. I put on music and sang my heart out and tried to just be in the moment and feel my boys out there with me. I hit 100 miles in 33:04 hours, a solid hour under official race cutoff.
Because I ran an extra 7 miles, I didn't get to the actual finish line until a little over 35 hours. As I ran the last 2 miles, the sweetest man named Mitchell ran out from the finish to meet me. We'd never met and I didn't know him from Adam, but he suddenly became my best buddy. Amazingly he happened to also be a beekeeper running 150 beehives, so we talked about bees and my mission and a bunch of other things as we covered that last mile to the finish line. I was so grateful for him! There were a dozen people there to cheer me on and the race director gave me a hug and handed me my buckle. It was really a wonderful finish, and I was so grateful they let me get those miles done. What a gift. I met the kindest man named Sid at the finish line. He came to me and congratulated me with tears running down his face. He thanked me for what I was doing. He said he had a daughter who had struggled with suicide ideation, and thank God, she was alive and doing well, but just the thought her struggles hurt his heart. We hugged and shed some tears together. It meant so much to me. All those miles were worth it to meet that one person who found a safe place to express his feelings about his daughter and the fight against suicide. There's a fun little video of my finish. And the buckle is gorgeous! Wow, I'd been thru the wringer! My legs were covered with salt I'd lost.
Kevin called to congratulate me at the finish line. He's such an amazing friend. Connie brought me shampoo and soap and a couple gallons of lukewarm water so that I could do a hobo bath in the outhouse facility. We sat in the lodge afterwards and she treated me to a glorious mushroom and Swiss hamburger! We talked for a while, and we met the owner (?) of the lodge who was super kind and made sure we were happy with our food. After we ate, I fell asleep in my car.
Connie left for her long drive home to Indiana but an hour or two later woke me back up. With no GPS or cell coverage in the area, she couldn't bring up a map to figure out how to get home and had to come all the way back to the lodge! The gentleman we'd met working at the lodge heard about her plight, so he hopped in his muscle car and had us follow him for the 35 min drive to Walmart where we could get a signal and regroup, get a bit of food for the road and go our separate ways. I was so exhausted that I kept falling asleep at the wheel, luckily nobody was on the roads. I stayed in the Walmart parking lot for 4 hrs and slept until I could safely drive and make the drive back to Galax. I took a few roadside naps but for the most part it wasn't terrible. I was happy to have a buckle, happy to be going home, heart heavy for my family, and a resolve to continue my mission.
It felt good to come home. Paul and Kevin at Froggy Mountain who arranged for me to get an adorable hippy looking 1970s camper to move into, had put it into place on the property which has the best view of our pond. I was so happy about that!
Going on adrenaline and hundreds of mgs of caffeine I'd used to stay awake on the drive, I unpacked and tried to get settled in, then slept for something like 20 hrs. the next day. So exhausted. When I woke up, I still felt tired, slow, down in the dumps. Missing Dexter. Missing my family. Missing a busy household. My camper felt too quiet and alone. Wishing some things in my life were different. I kinda felt like I did early in this 100 miler, not real happy with anything but putting 1 foot in front of the other. This week on Sept 4, my son Isaac's 27th b-day, my sister and her husband will be burying their son. It hurts my heart. I don't know what kind of difference I can actually make, but I know I can't give up. This is a disease that has to be fought one heart to another, one person saving another. It's so individual. If I can be there for that one person, it's worth it. It's worth it to honor our fallen and help to break stigma by continuing to talk about the problem.
107 miles on the Ice Age Trail. For Dexter, Taylor, Jake, Jacob, Morgan, Dillon/ +Nate, Jenn & Cameron.
(Dexters writing)
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