If you asked me at the 11:42:07 PM on Saturday, July 31st if I was going to ever run the Never Summer 100K again my answer would have been a resounding, “HELL NO!!” That morning at 5:30 AM I had started this race “between the Never Summer Mountains on the northern border of the Rocky Mountain National Park and the Medicine Bow Mountains to the north of Cameron Pass” within the boundaries of State Forest State Park in Walden, Colorado.

For 18 hours, 12 mins, and 07 seconds this race would take me up along pasture trails, lots and lots of dirt road, and some craggily rocks. ” It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair”. That Dicken’s quote was a perfect fit to my experience.

My best of times came far and few between on this race. I felt strong the first 12 miles up and over the 7 Utes mountain came easy enough. I had some good strong miles throughout this region with a solid group of runners. The terrain was smack in my wheel house. I was in control, taking it easy, soaking in the views, took a few pictures and was relishing my experience that I had worked so hard for. It was going to be a good day.

Then my body revolted against me, bring on the worst of times. I visited the bushes more times then I care to recall from miles 12-42. I went to places in my mind where I had never gone before in my 30 years of running, the notion of quitting, surrendering, giving up, crossed my mind more times then I think in all of my other runs in my life combined. I even considered it with 14, 12, 10…. miles to go, just take that ride back to the start. By mile 15, I was done with this race, worn out, exhausted and ready to call it quits. At the mile 18 aid station, Diamond, I saw my friends who helped me re-supply and get going again, despite my best efforts of dropping my unsealed full water bladder, and communicating that I was in trouble. I got out of there in short order. If I hung out any longer, I wasn’t leaving.

Less then 20 minutes later I would be laying on the ground in the shade, after a steady climb up in the hot sun had beaten me down. Do I quit? Why do I keep going? At the time I had no idea, but ultimately I rolled back up, obviously, and kept trudging up this god forsaken dirt road. Within 5 minutes, I was greeted by two other runners who had quit and were heading back to Diamond to get a lift. At the time and now, I am glad I wasn’t them. I kept on pushing. On any normal race, I am the guy who would have tried to talk those other two runners into not quitting, but not today. It took everything I had to not join them.

Along the final climb of this section, I passed one of my early running friends, John. He was doing what I had done just a few minutes earlier, laying down. He looked done. I did muster the energy to get him on his feet, and told him to keep on going. I didn’t stop long enough to really make sure he was going again and within a minute he was no longer behind me. I figured he was finished and I kept on going.

The idea that I just spent thousands of dollars, 10 days of vacation time, and hundreds of miles and hours of training in the mountains away from my family on weekends were the only things keeping me going out there. That and my 60+ friend, Scout, trailing not as far behind me as she should be (she placed 3rd in the grand masters age group and was the oldest female competitor, she killed it out there). She probably doesn’t know this, or perhaps she does because she does know me really well, she might have been the only thing keeping me going. If she was still out there fighting to finish a race that had beaten her twice before, then I would be damned if she was going to finish and I wasn’t.

One of her favorite mantras is “Harden the Fuck Up” (HtFU). I was reminded of this at the Ruby Jewel Aid station 28 miles into the race by Joker, Scouts pacer and my past 100 Mile Wilderness partner. I told him and Rick, Scout’s husband, that I was ready to quit and Joker had his HtFU bracelet on and all he said “I will give you this bracelet and refuse to give you a ride”. At the time I really struggled with incredulity in running another 37 miles, but I found myself leaving the aid station with final parting words from Joker, “if that is your pace, we will catch you”……he understands me well, because fuck that.

Another highlight of my day happened at Ruby Jewel too. John came trucking in just as I was about to head out, he hadn’t quit after all! He told me that he had turned around like I thought but another runner behind us talked him into going on. That runner had done what I had failed to do earlier and I was glad for John’s perseverance.

Over the next 6 miles, I pushed through the very long, dry, hot, dirt road miles clipping away at a slow but steady 15 min/mile pace. Any faster and I would cough so hard I would almost vomit. A couple coughing fits, visits into the bushes and 90 minutes later I arrived at the aid station looking like complete and utter shit. Another friend waiting at Canadian aid station, Elias, would later confirm that I did in fact look like hell rolled over. He didn’t know how to tell me that at the time, but he helped me move on quickly again. My goal at this point remained, get in and get out, if I stayed any length of time I wasn’t going to continue.

It was 5 miles of mostly steady dirt road, some single track gradual climbing with some pasture trails to the Clear lake aid station then according to the previous aid station 1 1/2 miles to clear lake turn around. This section was supposedly 6 1/2 miles out and back for 13 miles back to Canadian before the final 14 miles to the end. This was a bit of a mental boost for me because I got to see nearly every runner in the race including the winner. I was counting places, and calculating how far ahead of me they were, and I met my current primary training partner, Brent, just leaving the clear lake aid station from coming back down, roughly 3 miles a head of me! That isn’t bad at all! I really thought I was doing worse.

Well that mental boost was short lived, as minutes later I found out that I was 6 miles and hours behind Brent. Because it is 3 miles out and back from the aid station to the clear lake turnout, not 1 1/2 as I was told earlier. Brent’s parting words to me as we passed each other was “have fun up there” would hit home soon enough.

I entered Clear Lake aid station full of joy and left in another mental low. I did have another HtFU moment, when I bitched to the time keeper that “this sucked” and she recognized my TMR (trail monster running) logo and said “you are from Maine, you signed up from this, get it done” in other words, HtFU and quit your bitching. This trudge up to the clear lake turnabout turned out to be a long climb up muddy, rocky, slippery, rainy, puddle riddled, technical and just down right shitty trail. The wind was strong at the top which encouraged a quick turnout.

Brent would be right, this trail was “fun” but a few good things occurred bringing me into a bright spot of my day. First, I was so pissed off by time I got to the summit that I ignored my stomach issues and actually put down some of my best miles going down the 8 miles back down to Canadian aid station. Second, but really #1, I got to see Scout and Joker starting their journey up this bitch of a climb. Third, I discovered that the perogies and veggie broth (P&V) that I ate at Canadian the first time seemed to give me wicked gas, but no visits to the bushes. I can work with that! And finally, but certainly not least, I found what I thought was butt crack chafe starting was really just a pine needle between my cheeks! #winning.

I made it to my final visit to Canadian aid station, and had 6 miles to Bockman Aid and then 8 miles to the end. I really felt the best I had since the beginning of the race going into this last 14 miles. I thought I could run most of it. Then the coughing started again, and I once again found myself sitting on the ground resting against a log wondering why I had been so foolish to keep going.

As darkness was settling and I closed my eyes thinking I could just sit here and sleep until Scout caught up to me and maybe I would find it in me to finish then. Instead, I pushed a 5 hour energy in me, donned my headlamp and stood up. If I had to walk. I would walk and fart my way to the finish.

Soon I was joined by another walker, Joey, and we would have some casual conversation for few miles. He was also having a bad day. About 2 miles from the aid station I started to feel myself perk up but I stayed with Joey because it was nice to have company. I was really starting to pull ahead and could feel myself picking up steam. We approached Bockman, and some quick mental calculation told me that I could reach one of my secondary goals of the day, to finish before midnight, if I pushed. I had also decided after the previous aid stations P&V to stop eating and drinking, which really helped relieve the coughing, farting, and other bush visits.

My stop at Bockman was very short, and I only paused long enough to give Joey spare AAA batteries I had with me as he was concerned about his headlamp surviving the final 8 miles. I left that aid station doing what I hadn’t done since coming down Clear Lake and hadn’t done since mile 12 before that, actually running . I moved well for the first 3 miles of this section, but the grade eventually won out and I power hiked a steep mile to what unbeknownst to me would be my final climbing of the day.

I was passing a fair number of runners at this point, and I peaked at this climb and running back down again. In my research for the race I learned there were two hard climbs, that first 4 miles must have been the first and then I would hit one more short but steep climb and 2 miles to the finish down hill. I could do this but needed to save something for that last climb. So I slowly ran down, and more down, and more down. Finally I passed another runner and inquired how much further it was to the final climb and he said “you did it a mile ago”….oh, well, goodbye and I started pushing the last miles to the finish. Seeing that finish line, the lights, the fire and Sarah (my wife) cheering me on as I came running in filled my heart and soul with joy. I had seen my way through my darkest hours, my hardest miles, all my disbelief, all my despair, and I had a wooden finishers plaque in my hand.

The next morning at the awards breakfast I would see both Joey and John, and both had finished almost together about an hour behind me. I would also see the women I had run on and off with almost all day, Debbie, win first place in the grand masters category. She had ultimately pulled ahead of me during the climb up clear lake and I didn’t catch her again. I am honored and privilaged to have shared many miles with these 3 athletes and they showed great strength along side me at various times throughout the race.

In reflection, I think my error ultimately comes down to having gone out to Colorado a week before the race. It wasn’t enough time for this born and raised sea level boy to acclimate to a race that didn’t dip below 8,500 feet for the day. I think all the week before the race served to do was put me in a state of hidden fatigue before I even started. Then the first 12 miles, I depleted the oxygen in my muscles, and it led to a feeling of running twice as far as I had. My body must have believed it was in some kind of distress, sending my stomach into turmoil and what was going in was coming quickly out the other side. Once that started there was no coming back until I got far enough in the race where it didn’t matter. Perhaps, I should have called it quits earlier on food and hydration, but maybe it would have made it worse. I don’t really want to ever have to test that theory.

Never Summer was an enlightening experience and sadly I didn’t get to run the truly intended race course. Flash floods had caused road closures in the area calling off the SAR team that manage the higher 12K summit aid stations. The race director was forced to reroute around the hardest climb and most stunning ridge line of the race. Keeping us a little lower then normal. This probably helped ensure I finished, but it does leave me feeling like I am not done with the race yet. I will be back Never Summer 100K.

First, and always foremost, I have to thank those who have contributed to getting me to the start line. My wife, Sarah, will always be #1 in this spot. For every mile, hour, or day I am out on the trail training or racing she is at home keeping things in order and being there for our children. I couldn’t do any of this without her. To Scout, Squirrel, and Joker – to always have you three in my corner with words of wisdom, encouragement or a big old HtFU kick in the pants is beyond words. To my coach, Matt Urbanksi, to have you on my side pushing me in training, sharing your vast experience, and helping me reach my goals, thank you. I know that I pay you, but this training cycle has been one of the best I have had as long as I can remember and not just physically, mentally too. To my close running friends, you know who you are, Thank you for all of your words of encouragement, analyzing race strategies and being there with me either on the trails or pushing me in your own way. Finally, but certainly not least a big THANK YOU to all Trail Monsters and ALL the volunteers at Riverlands, you are all rock stars.

My journey and training to toe the start line of the the Riverlands 100 miler is a story much like a long slow meandering stream. I first heard about the race during its first running in 2017. Sarah knew a 100 was on my bucket list and she found it and I became intrigued. At the time I was just starting to get into Ultra running and was about to do my first 50K. The idea of running a 100 was still daunting and I decided I would work my way up to the 100. In 2018, I did my first 50 miler and that’s when I really started to realize a 100 was in the books. 2019, brought on a self made 100k and a couple more self made 50 milers in training for my first Barkley Fall Classic. It took me two years to get off the lottery for that race and my focus was there. I also started getting involved heavily in Trail Monsters (hosts of Riverlands) in 2019, instead of staying on the outskirts like I had. I kept hearing all about the magic of Riverlands and I knew that in early October 2019 that my year for my first 100 would be 2020! Registration was set and I started thinking how I could put my training plan together.

Well, we all know how 2020 went, and what I did instead. If you want to know more on that check out my other blog posts. In November of 2020, I decided to enlist a running coach, Matt Urbanksi, into my corner because I had run a 50 miler out at Riverlands that year and that along with many months of higher mileage overall left me injured. I didn’t want to repeat those mistakes and wanted to set myself up to be as successful as I could. After all 2021 Riverlands would finally be my year and failure was not an option.

With 100 mile training technically having started in January of 2020, I wasn’t all that excited to continue training. I just wanted to be there and run it finally; however, Coach Matt brought some “new” training techniques that I haven’t done since high school (short sprints and hill repeats). My body responded to this training very well, and for the first time in a long time (by long I mean decades) I was going into a race injury free, feeling fit, strong, and ready.

Race day was approaching fast, it wasn’t getting cancelled, and it was time to make my desire to run Riverlands a reality. I made my drop bag/gear list, talked too many hours about technique for the race with my coach, ultra friends and just about anyone who’d listen, and suffered from the typical week before taper tantrums. It was ultimately decided that I would go out slow, try and not tear down my body, take it easy for 75 miles then give it all I had for the last. By time 6 AM Saturday, May 8th, 2021 rolled in and I was feeling ready. I even managed to sleep the night before, which I am still beside myself that I actually did.

Finally, after all this time I was at the starting line, on my designated socially distanced red X l, at what I expected to be the most magical race ever. This was going to be like Disney World by the way my Trail Monster friends always talk about it. (side note, I don’t like Disney, but that is because I would much rather be on a mountain, but you get the idea, most magical place on earth). There are very few things that meet up to our expectations of what an event will be, but I have say Riverlands met all mine right from the start. I am both sad and happy to say that I doubt I will have another 100 mile race that will feel like this race did for me. Except perhaps another Riverlands, hmmmm, 2023??. (I have plans for next year, MonKat, if you know then you know. )

With our wonderful Race director, Scout, giving off final instructions we hit the trail at 6 AM sharp. It didn’t take me long to band together with a group of new friends, and let the party begin. Most of the first 6 1/2 miles is rooty and rocky single track, but it didn’t bother us. We were loud and we were boisterous. We joked, laughed, gagged (thank you Back Patrick who was in the front), counted our stumbles/trips, and talked about all kinds of things and enjoyed much of the early miles together. So to Kylee, The Professor, The Hippie, Front Patrick, and Back Patrick, thank you for making those early miles so much fun. It was a privilege to have shared those miles with you and I am sorry that we didn’t all cross the finish line, but most of us did.

Much of my early miles were focused on not going out too hard, but in reality I was just having fun, I didn’t really pay attention to my pace. (Reflecting afterwards, an average heat rate of over 160 bpm for the first 40 miles suggests that perhaps I did go too hard, but Coach Matt disagrees, because I wasn’t physically wrecked by that point) I reached the first aid station, Middle Earth, in what seemed like no time and a quick check of water and calories told me I didn’t need to stop. I called out my number to the bib/time checker and burned through. Headed to one of the biggest climb of the route, Bradford Hill. The other being Ledges that you descend down to Middle Earth after the first long sections of single tracks, but you have to climb back up it after Middle Earth on the return.

Most of my merry band of cohorts stayed together through the aid station and after a few miles of ATV trail we trudged up the last single track hill, Bradford. The race director made the decision that on the decent she would leave one tree in the way to either hurdle or roll under, hurdle being the obvious decision. Sadly, I made the commitment to hurdle the tree the other 3 loops, a choice that would haunt me on the last lap. Not long after you reconnect to the ATV trail for the last fun filled miles of rocky rolling hills and one small stream crossing (mario crossing) to the 12 1/2 mile turn around point and the Conant Road Aid station.

Reaching Conant road for the first time felt great, and I once again still had my steady supply of calories (spring gels and bars, etc) and decided to fill up my nearly empty bottle despite still having a nearly full one. I turned this aid station as quickly as filling up my bottle and away I went. This is where we lost a couple of members of our group (The Hippie and Kylee, but The professor and Patrick’s were still staying strong). I was also leap frogging with two other Trail Monsters, Craig and Sam, with Billy strong on our heels.

It was also at this aid station that I realize that I was actually having a magical time. I had expected to know a lot of people but to have someone at every aid station, or other runners out on the course that you consider a good friend, made it all feel like a big old family reunion. It didn’t take the entire race for me to realize I really was at the most magical place on earth.

Much of the 12 1/2 miles back to the start/finish to finish the first 25 miles was uneventful. Lots of joyous greetings and settling in with the Patricks and the Professor. Still having a good time, still smiling, and mostly joking about how we were going too fast. Ripping through the return Middle Earth aid station with nothing more then a water fill up. We came into the start/finish aid station in sub 5 hours. I told myself that is fine and I can take the second lap in 6 hours. still keeping an hour in the bank if I wanted to sub 24 hours.

The first entry back to the start/finish aid station was awesome. So much exciting energy, I can really see how people get pulled into hanging out. I stayed focused, I was mentally prepared for this. A quick apply of foot lube, my feet are one of the top assets out here, a restock of the calories I like, quick fill up of bottles and away I go in under 5 mins. I once again find myself with The Patrick’s and The Professor at some point between the start/finish and Middle Earth. I had left Sam and Craig back at the aid station, but they would be back with me by the end of this lap.

Much of the second lap was was also uneventful still smiling, feeling good, no major issues developing. I did a quick water fill up at Middle Earth, both bottles! It was amazing to recognize the difference between drinking the first lap and second lap in the heat of the day. I probably drank a liter of water my entire first lap and I just drank nearly a liter from the start/finish to Middle Earth. After the Bradford hill climb, hurdling #2, and a jump like Mario, I was once again back at the Conant turnaround feeling great. I think this is the first time I grabbed food from the aid station, filled up both bottles again and away I went. I was back at Middle Earth, barely stopping and heading up the climb of Ledges. The Patricks, and the The professor hot on my heels up the climb.

All three of them would catch up to me and pass me in the section down from Ledges, along the trail called Deer path. It was time to visit the woods for longer then a quick urination, thankfully, this would be my only #2 stop of the event, but not only did the Rat Pack catch me but so would Sam, Craig and Kylee who I hadn’t seen besides in turn around passing since the first Conant Road aid station. I quickly did my business and caught back up to Sam and Craig, passing Kylee and The Professor along the way. Sadly, neither of them would finish and I am not sure how far they made it but I don’t recall seeing them again or if I did it was dark and with the headlamps I didn’t know it was them. I also would never catch back up to The Patricks. Both finished strong and well ahead of me, thanks for the nearly 50 miles of fun boys! I finished lap number two with the dynamic duo of Sam and Craig and I really felt great coming into the 50 mile marker in just under 11 hours.

I know that I felt a lot better coming in this 50 miles then I had a year ago and that was a good sign. The start/finish energy was once again compelling, but I stayed focused and did much the same routine as my first lap out of here and under 5 mins I was back on the course, but this time I had my pacer, Brent, with me. I had told him to keep a group run like pace with a goal of bring us in around 6 hours. This third lap would turn out to be my hardest. Right from the start I was moving too slow to finish this lap in my designated time. I wasn’t even particularly tired physically or mentally. Nothing was seriously wrong. My mid back was starting to hurt from all the haunching over and probably too many hours of poor running form, but nothing that should have slowed me down. This is where my running really became the theme of my Riverlands, and really what had been its theme for such a long time, the meander- a winding course and lazy movement. I just kind of shuffled along, still enjoying myself, still with a smile, but severely unmotivated to go faster. I can tell you that I told Brent several times, ” I can go faster, but I don’t want to”. To Brent’s credit he made several attempts to change my course, but I was unconvinced. I meandered back up Deer path, down ledges, through Middle Earth, back up Bradford hill, over tree, and mario jump #3 without much of a care. Everything became “I will run this faster last lap. I will do that quicker next time”. I don’t know if this is a mid-100 slump, but both Brent and myself lacked the mental technique to pull me out of it. Something about knowing that I was going to finish, and I would literally walk the rest of it and still finish allowed me to do just that. This lap would take me nearly 7-hours and it wouldn’t even be my slowest lap.

The slowest lap award goes to final lap of the race and lets give it up for my just under 9 hour lap #4. (standing ovation, crowd goes wild). Yes, it was dark, and yes, I needed a better headlamp, but once again motivation to go faster was my nemesis. Before even starting the lap I spent nearly 20-25 mins hanging out at the start/finish area. Talking, eating, just in general having a good time. It was Joker who finally pointed out that I was starting to shiver and that I really needed to move my ass. So once again a resupply, lube of feet, and away I went. Alone into the dark, with parting word to Billy who had just come in to catch up to me. Brent had decided that he didn’t have the mental stamina for another 25 miles in the dark at a slow pace, and I don’t blame him. He had only promised me one lap anyway.

I would spend most of the entire first half of this lap alone by myself listening to owls, coyotes, and other critters of the night. I would run into the occasional passerby coming in for their 3rd lap, or at the top of Ledges running into the pair of runners who would ultimately tie for first place, 12 miles and many hours ahead of me, however, those greetings were short lived. I would get to see Joker again at Middle Earth, and he along with several other people said that I looked better this lap then I had the entire race. Weird to hear, and I have since been assured it just wasn’t trail talk to keep me going. I actually did feel perfectly fine, and did feel like I had more gas in the tank, I just still didn’t care. I took a bit longer at this Middle Earth aid station stop then I had before, nothing excessive, but I actually felt a pang of motivation and actually start doing what I would consider running from Middle Earth and up my last trip up Bradford hill and then to the friggin tree. The tree that I had hurdled three other times and where my final ascent over turned into a “oh shit that’s not happening, what the fuck was I thinking. Yup, I am just going to sit on this stupid tree…okay, how long are you going to sit on this stupid tree for? maybe Billy isn’t far behind and can push me off?”. Luckily, I managed to motivate myself off the tree and continue on but I had been reduced to a shuffle again. My motivation once again sapped.

I meandered through these rocky rolling hill miles best I could mostly alone in the dead of night. Still not feeling overly tired physically or mentally, just kind of perpetually moving forward. It was in these miles that I ran into the dynamic duo about 45 mins ahead of me and The Hippie not far behind them. I don’t even know when The Hippie passed me but oh well, good for him. I am pretty sure he finished. This was just before the Mario crossing which sadly someone had bridged with a pallet by the last lap. I didn’t have the motivation to move the pallet, nor would I have been able to jump over the stream this time, but I certainly would’ve gone through it. So I shamefully used said pallet, and climbed the final hills and down the last turn to see the sparkling glow of my final visit to the Conant road aid station.

It was here I made a final race decision, I could either continue to run alone and attempt to catch up to Craig and Sam. None of us were moving particularly fast at this stage and I if I burned through this aid station and they took a little extra time at their last Middle Earth, I would probably make up 45 mins on them easy enough. Or….or….or, I would just wait for Billy here, get a blanket, rest by the fire, drink some hot soup, and we all know what direction this went in. About 25 mins later, Billy rolls in with a very tired pacer and I take off telling Billy that I am just going to shuffle along until he catches up. His pacer dropped off at Conant, and Billy ran to catch me before the aid station was even out of sight. Little did either Billy or I know that months ago he and I would made an agreement that if we were around 27-28 hours, not reaching out goal times, that we would finish together, that in fact we could be doing just that in just about that time frame.

It was nice to have someone to talk to again, and I mostly set the final pace for us for the last 12 miles. Slow, but strong and steady. The sun came up, head lamps were put away, we watched the sunrise over glimpses of the river, and we reached our last Middle Earth before either of us knew it. I sat down for a final rest at Middle Earth, but Billy burned through it not wanting to stop long. That was all the motivation I needed, and I said my good by to all my friends at this final aid station, and climbed up ledges to catch back up to Billy before he got to the top. Turns out this would be my fastest climb of ledges of all 4 trips.( Huh, interesting.) By this time with the sun up, and I was actually feeling motivated again, but Billy and I had our pace and that would be it. Billy and I would cross the finish line together in 26 hrs 56 mins and it was wonderful to finish with a friend by my side.

Ultimately, I ended Riverlands with a smile on my face and a satisfactions in my heart that I made the best decisions I could in the moments. Could I have gone faster, sure I could have. I really don’t think a 21-23 hour Riverlands is out of reach for my abilities. I can do a couple easy fixes to help improve my performance in the future: a better head lamp, light that baby up like a Christmas tree, and grab my poles at 50 miles instead of 75 miles. As soon as I had those in my hands, and keeping me more upright my mid back pain went away. Some of the other changes I need to make are tougher and will take time to process. One is knowing how and when to push, in the words of Coach Matt “the crux of being your best as an ultra runner is getting this right”. It is a hard thing to get right and I don’t think I necessarily got it wrong, I just don’t think I dared to find out what my limits were in this regard yet. After all if I pushed at the wrong time, I could have blown up and not finished the race. I was comfortable being comfortable, and that is okay.

I am writing this post a week out of the race, and I have bounced back well. The brain fog has lifted, the parts are feeling as the should, and I am feeling ready to hit the trails again. I have some valuable lessons to walk away with and I have a lighter step knowing that for the second time in my life, I had the honor and privilege to share the trail with so many others who have, will, or tried to finish a 100. I may associate my Riverlands with a meandering, but I meandered through the happiest place on earth.

One of my close non-running friends yesterday said, “I just feel you are made to run 100’s; you’re going to do so amazing at Riverlands” . To this friend just finishing a 100 is amazing, which it is of course. But little does this friend realize the expectations that puts in my brain and that I already have plenty of other running friends who with the absolute best intentions “are excited to see what I can do”. I do the same thing to other runners, “you’re going to do awesome”, “you’ll crush it”, “if you have a good day you could do really well”. We all say these things to support and encourage one another, but are they truly all that helpful? Until you as an individual believe it yourself then it just potentially sets us up for false expectations. There are two possible outcomes for those expectations, you either hold back too much in a race because you don’t believe what those around you have been saying, or you push too hard because you believed those around you. In reality you failed to do what you should’ve done, run your own race. Be in the moment, on that day, at that time.

Yesterday, during my last long training run before a 3 week taper starts for Riverlands 100, I failed to do that. The goal was simple enough run the first 16 miles like I will start the 100 and then step up the effort to 50k pace for the last 16 miles. I did well for the first half, but I had expectations for how I would perform the last 16 miles and that blew up in my face. I pushed too hard, I stopped to wait for a training partner, I let my nutrition fall off, and I didn’t adjust my pace to the wet conditions. I got stuck in what I thought I should be doing and not what I really should have been doing in that moment. I have been caught in this trap many times before, and I know that the path it leads down is one of negativity and disappointment. In the particular case of running a hundred it becomes extra important to not go down this path. The road to success is to be in the moment, manage my expectations before they start to manage me.

I know that one of the best races that comes to mind where I did this successfully was my first trail 50 mile race. I had been upset the week before during a road marathon where things didn’t unfold the way I expected them too (those pesky expectations again) and I signed up for a 50 miler for the next weekend, because I knew I had more to give. I didn’t care how I did in the 50. I hadn’t trained for it and I had never run over a 50k at the time. I had zero expectations going in. I absolutely lived in the moment, doing what my body wanted to do in the time on that given day. I was in tune with myself and it lead to my walking away feeling great. I finished, I finished strong. Did I set the best time ever for a 50? nope. Did I finish on the podium? nope, neither overall or in my age group. I remember my response when people asked me what I thought of the 50 and I said “for me it felt easier then a marathon” . It really did at the time and even now. I didn’t struggle or fight for a certain pace that I needed to be at to reach an arbitrary expectation of time that I have set myself up for. I lived in the moment and it was glorious.

That is exactly how I need to be at Riverlands. I was falling into the trap again during my planning of the race. I did the math, if I wanted to finish in under 24 hours I need to run X pace, but if I want Y time at aid stations, and I skip this aid station, and do this here and that there then my final pace to reach 24 hours is XYZ. It was discussions with my crew/partner in crime from the 100 mile wilderness, a discussion with my coach on Friday and the challenges from my run yesterday that lead me out of this way of thinking. They all said the same thing, one that Brian for 100 MW said all the time, “Patience is the key and the race doesn’t start until mile 70”.

I didn’t exactly know what “be patient” meant, but coach Matt squared me away on that. Run the first 70-75 miles as effortlessly as I can, that doesn’t mean don’t run just don’t push. Walk up that steep section of the trail, take it easier on that down where you want to sprint. Don’t tear down your muscles and don’t worry about heart rate, pace, or place. Focus on managing your hydration, and nutrition. Don’t sit around too long at aid stations, but say hi, thank volunteers, run with joy. A smile on your face, in the moment and you will run with less effort. Even if that is a 14 minute mile or a 10 min mile, don’t worry. If I can manage those first 75 miles in that zone, then I will have the stuff left in the tank to finish strong. I will be ending the race in a place of positivity vs. one of struggle and negativity, which can make all the difference in the world. I truly would rather walk away from a race feeling like I did at the end of my first 50 miler at whatever time then having reached some expectation but in pain and hobbling away.

My goal is now to follow that sage advice from those with the knowledge and experience. After all I have never raced a 100 before. I have no real business setting myself up for any expectations. Finishing the 100 mile wilderness is a great accomplishment, but it is a vastly difference experience and one that cannot truly be compared to a race like Riverlands. I will do my best to accept those who pass me on well wishes, even if they are in the form of expectations, and I will do my best to adjust my own statements to other runners to not set up expectations for them. I will wish for them to “race in the moment on your own terms, in your own way” because that is what I will be doing.

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”- Alan Watts.

This year has been one riddled with turmoil, change, and stress on the global scale. We have faced and continue to face a pandemic with countless lives impacted. One where what we do or not do will impact generations to come. We continue deal with political unrest with a standing President refusing to concede the election results and tens of millions supporting his disgraceful actions as he continues to spew a message of hate and discontent. I want to say as a society we faced and fought against atrocities committed against people of color, but that isn’t true. We did what we always do and are sweeping it under the rug. The media moved on, white people moved on, we let the latest and greatest thing, yet again, distract us from the work that needs to be done to make our society fair and equitable for all. Our racism is so deeply woven in our society that it will take massive political shifts and policies to make real change happen and people of color need white people like me in their corner. But what can I do besides educated myself, listen and support? I haven’t found my place in the Black Livers Matter movement, so far the little things I do only amount to words, no real tangible actions to help.

My privileges in life afford me the safety in not being too stressed by all that 2020 has brought us. I don’ t live in fear of Covid, my employment has remained steady, but slower to allow me more opportunities to spend time with family and run. I am a cis gender white male with a wife, 2 kids, a nice home, a dog and a ‘white picketed fence’. I grew up poor without running water and a flushable toilet 80% of the year, eating canned spinach, government peanut butter and powered milk at times. My born privileges gave me the opportunity to work hard, and do better for myself. I am literally the “American Dream”. I have never lived a day of fear in my life and will never fully understand how tiring, heartbreaking, scary, sad or angry living the life of a person of color, women, or a member of the LGBQT or god forbid you are all three, is for someone.

I have spent 2020 not suffering from these things. I have spent my year getting more time with my family then I have ever had. I have climbed enough summits and gained enough elevation to have ascended from Everest’s base camp to the summit over 22 times. I have earned my first 100 mile distance belt buckle, spent many hours running with friends, experienced sunsets and sunrises on the mountain tops, and have explored new to me trails, all amounting to over 2,200 miles and 500 hours of doing what I love. All in all, for me, I couldn’t really ask for much better of a year.

I feel safe enough and hopeful enough to set my sights on 2021. I have lofty plans to finish the Androscoggin Riverlands 100 Mile race strong in early May. I will be spending my time between now and then training hard under the the watchful eye of my new coach. I have been working with Matt Urbanski for the last two months and it has been great. He has great insights and different approaches to conditioning that have me excited.

After Riverland’s, in the month of June, I plan on hiking/running all 14 of Maine’s mountain peaks over 4,000 feet. I am very excited for this one, as there are a few I have never done and my wife plans on joining in on all of them. It will be a wonderful experience to spend that time with her in the mountains and enjoying the simplicity of being in nature, away from the chaos and schedules of our daily routines.

At the end of July I plan on tackling a 100K race in Colorado called Never Summer. From the event site “This is a mountain race in the truest sense of the term, with extended periods of high alpine ridge running, two alpine peaks, and five alpine lakes visited along the way. When above timberline, you will enjoy huge views of the northern Never Summer Mountains to the south, the stunning peaks of RMNP to the southeast, expansive vistas across North Park to the Park Range above Steamboat Springs to the west, and even north out to Wyoming’s Snowy Range.” The race covers a “huge variety of terrain, from cross country, to jeep and logging roads, to bomber alpine trail, and pretty much everything in between.” Coach Matt has done very well in this race in years past and I am sure his insights will be invaluable to my training. In his words “it has everything you want and some you don’t want in a 100K”. This event probably has me the most nervous, because of the higher altitude. Historically, I have been disappointed in my performances out west, because the altitude kicks my ass, but as long as a remember to run by effort not by pace, then I will have a positive experience.

After Never Summer, there of course is my deferred 2020 race of the Barkley Fall Classic in September, and then back in Millinocket for my 5th running of that marathon. You also better believe there will be a couple Pemi loops tossed in my training, some other epic mountain runs, and if time allows a go at the 50 mile NH Hut Challenge in the White Mountains where the goal is to touch all the 8 of the AMC huts in under 24 hours.

I am hopeful that all my running plans for 2021 will go off without a hitch. I am hopeful that the vaccines for Covid will be effective. I am hopeful that President elect Biden’s message of healing and unity will start to bring the country back together. I am hopeful that this healing can lead to some real concrete actions to make life more equal for all. I am not delusional that it will, but my privilege allows me to remain hopeful or the more honest statement, my privilege allows me to not be impacted if it doesn’t.

That selfishness is the underlining message for this year for me. The majority of people only truly take action towards what impacts them directly, myself included. The pandemic and BLM have shown us that very clearly. Humanity as whole is not ready to tackle that of which is best for everyone. We truly only still care about ourselves and do what we each need to do for our individual survival. I can say that this year has not challenged my own selfishness, my own dark side as philosopher Alan Watts would put it. I would say the only thing that has in my entire life is my children. I often put their needs/wants in front of my own, but is that true selflessness, as I do get something in return for those acts within myself. I don’t really know.

Selflessness is something I have thought a lot on my runs this year. What can I do to truly show that I care that hundreds of thousands of my fellow country men and women have died this year, and nearly 2 million world wide. What can I do to support the BLM or woman’s rights or LGBQT rights? I could protest every day. Call my congress people every day. I could sacrifice all my runs, all my time, all that I have and those acts of selflessness would do absolutely no good. It wouldn’t change a damn thing except impact myself and my family. So I make a conscious choice every day to stay with the status que and to be selfish.

Perhaps one day I will be presented with a moment to act, an act of true selflessness that will have an impact on that of which matters beyond my own little world. The only action that I take and will continue to take is educating myself on history, the none white washed version, and continue to do what is best for society in a pandemic and wear my damn mask. Maybe these acts in themselves make me less selfish? Again, I don’t know.

What I do know is that 2020 was a pretty great year for me. And I am not sure that I am sorry about that, but maybe I should be.

Much to no ones surprise the annual running of the Millinocket Half and Full marathon was canceled due to covid and participants were encouraged to run their distance at home. This is the free marathon where you are expected to spend your typical race entry fee by making donations to the local charities, 2nd hand store, or food pantry. You also go for the weekend, if you can, and spend your money at the local restaurants, bars, and hotels/air BNB’s. It is a great race that I love for its community feeling, fun energy, and all the crazy pop-up aid stations. I wrote about it last year too and I am sure there will be another appearance in 2021, my hotel room is already booked for December 3rd to the 5th, 2021.

This years Millinocket would be up to the individual to run at home and I decided that running it locally with some of my friends in a social distancing way would be ok. I made all my donations online, bought some stuff from the local store to be shipped, and decided that running at Androscoggin Riverlands State Park in Turner, Maine would be fitting. It has a wide hard packed gravel road, starts up hill, and offers rolling hills. All features that replicate Millinocket’s course well. Best yet it wasn’t on pavement and away from traffic. With all that in mind Tur-nocket was born and I sent out invites to my friends.

Now I just need to decide a running route. Riverlands has plenty to offer as far as single tracks are concerned, but it wouldn’t replicate the Golden Road. I nixed the idea of single tracks fairly early on. Another option would be to run the gravel road the full distance and back which would get you around 18 miles, but then the aid stations would be limited or no existent or at the very least too far apart and difficult to set up. The aid stations are an important feature, if you are trying to represent Millinocket. These pop up aid stations are throughout the course, I think I counted ten of them along the route last year that you do twice for the full marathon. 20 Aid Stations is an impressive number for a marathon and because they are set up by locals and not coordinated by any formal party or legal entity associated with the race, most of them are a little heavy on the alcohol side, particularly Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey. Booze aside, because I usually only partake in a few shots here and there, some of my favorites are: the cookie lady on what is dubbed as “cookie hill” who has a plethora of homemade cookies to choice from but I have learned grab one on your first lap, as by time you roll around to your second they are gone, the family who offers homemade vegetarian and non-vegetarian soup at the corner just as you turn off the gravel road onto the pavement portion (this family really is nice, the first year I ran it they only had non-vegetarian, but the following year and every year since they added in the vegetarian option!), the group of people who dress up as Christmas Elves every year and set up a mulled cider station (which you can of course add Fireball to if you wish), and of course you cannot discount the awesome energy of all the aid stations with their fires in 50 gallon drums basically having a party that you get to join briefly every few miles.

Knowing how paramount the aid stations are I couldn’t envision running Turnocket without at least the best representation of a Millinocket aid station I could do, which ultimately played the biggest role in deciding the route. We would just run up the gravel road 2.185 miles, with a cone set by the first runner there and since everyone’s watches are always a little different we would all go by that first persons watch and turn back at the cone returning to the start for a 4.37 miles per lap. Marathoners would run that six times and half marathoners three, to get the respective distances. This allowed me a single point every lap to set up an aid station and that is exactly what I did. I played some music on a Bluetooth speaker, set up a canopy, and gathered lots of different options and tried to represent my favorite aid stations the best I could and of course we had some Fireball tucked away for a shot or two. The only things that would be missing would be the fun energy of the locals and the fire pits.

Beyond the aid station I offered a couple other fun incentives to draw folks out to the course on race day. I offered up a wooden first place medallion that I had won at the Millinocket day after 2 mile recovery race a couple years prior to the first person to beat me in the Turnocket’s marathon. The only caveat would be that next year they run a race, preferably next years Millinocket, and challenge someone (s) to win the medallion from them. I also offered the participants a can of the Sea to Summit lager, the official beer crafted to represent the Millinocket race along with its sister race, MDI.

When 9 AM Saturday, December 5th rolled around Turnocket was ready to go. There was a concern with the weather and a big 8″-10″ snow storm predication, but to keep the spirit of Millinocket alive we decided to run it regardless because Millinocket never cancels due to weather and nor would we. The snow was slated to start in the mid-afternoon with rain showers all morning. I ended up with a group 9 other dedicated runners with three of us planning on doing the full marathon and seven planning on the half.

I arrived early to set up the aid station and canopy and was ready to go when runners started to arrive at 8 AM. Two of the runners concerned with the weather wanted to get an earlier start. One of them, Janel, was planning on doing the full and the other Rachael would only plan on a half. They came prepared with more food and spirits to add to our already overflowing aid station and soon I had them off to the sounds of ACDC’s Thunderstruck with an orange cone in hand to be placed at 2.185 miles. On a side note, they did a wonderful job placing the cone, particularly since I forgot to tell them to stick to the right at the sand pit and go through a gate and not hang a left that goes to the river. I admitting made it sound like you couldn’t go wrong on this road, forgetting about this area. They wouldn’t be the only ones of the day to make the error, as two others not familiar with the park made the same mistake. Luckily all four quickly figured it out and hats off to Janel and Rach for adjusting their error distance and still nailing the orange cone placement.

Another participant, Karen would arrive soon after and also want to get an early start on her half, because she was figuring it would take her 3 hours. Reset the music, explain the orange cone turn point, and Karen was off the start line. Karen was familiar with the park and would have no issues sticking to the correct road.

Not long after Karen’s start the remaining six runners started to arrive. We gathered around the aid station area, had some laughs, I gave the spiel on the winners medal, participant brew, and turn around spot, played Thunderstruck one last time and the seven of us were off just after 9 AM finally getting all ten runners onto the course.

It didn’t take long for the reality to sink in that this was going to be one very wet and muddy run. In true Millinocket style the weather was not in our favor. However, I was over dressed for the starting temp with my under armor base, long tech, and wind/rain jacket, I was roasting. Definitely a difference in what is needed for clothing just standing around and actually running. I know this, but got distracted setting everything up and didn’t think much of it.

Gordon and I were leading the charge to catch up to the other three runners on the course. I was surprised that within the first mile we ran into Janel and Rach, they were cruising! It took Gordon less then the first two miles to set his position that he wanted to steal my medal and that if I wanted to keep it then I had better plan on working for it. To his favor, I didn’t really care that much and had already had a full week of running. Normally, I would do a typer and not really run the week leading up to a race. I wouldn’t have run prior if this was the normal Millinocket, but I treated more like another training run with a fun aid station.

I tried to stick to what I had said at the end of last years Millinocket that I would do, and just have fun. That is what I set out to do and that is what I did. I kept to my pace to a nice controlled cadence, stopped to chat briefly with the other participants as we crossed paths, took a longer stop at the end of the first loop to remove the base layer (ahh, much better) while also enjoying some mulled cider and cookies, and really kept the smile despite the continuation of the rain that was slowly turning into snow.

The turnover to snow was starting earlier then expected by about 3 hours. I was concerned with everyone driving home safely. It was about a 1/2 mile from my 2nd aid station stop that I crossed paths with Gordon again as he was heading out for his 3rd lap that I mentioned that maybe today was a good day to run a 1/2 marathon. There were only the two of us and Janel planning on running the full. Gordon agreed that it was likely the smart thing to do, and he would check in with Janel on his way out. Janel and Rach were within reach of passing for both of us at this point. I did a quick aid station stop this time, stuffed a piece of banana bread in my mouth, downed some beverages and took off for what would end up being my final lap.

About a 1/2 mile from the final turn point Gordon had already passed Janel and he communicated that everyone was in agreement, we would all run a 1/2 and he would do a partial final lap sweep to pick up Karen who would be the final finisher once he completed his 3rd. All sounded good. I caught up to Janel and Rach with about 2 miles left to run, they were walking up a hill ” so that I had time catch them”….sure ladies, sure. We chatted for a bit, all glad to be calling it early and I took off to finish my race. I passed Tammi and Billy with a quick”hi, woohoo” as they were well into their 3rd lap and I connected with Karen about a mile into her 3rd lap. I saw Gordon on the course one last time, as he set out to catch Karen to give her company for the end, who informed me the trio of Dana, Brent, and Eli had decided to stop at two laps as Dana had gotten extremely cold.

I cruised to my finish feeling good and positive about today’s experience and even had my own little cheer squad from the trio. I stopped my watch at the designated cone and looked down, surprised to see that I was only 3 minutes shy of my 1/2 distance time at last years Millinocket. Given that this course had more elevation, it was raining and mud slick in a lot of areas, the time I had taken at the first aid stop, and all the times I stopped to say hi and chat with my follow runners, that is awesome! I also felt 100% better then I did at last years 1/2 way marker and feel that I could’ve kept going at the pace I had set. Today wasn’t the day to push things though and I was glad to stop and enjoy some beverages and food with the trio as we waited for the others to finish.

It wasn’t long before the remaining finishers of Janel, Rach, Tammi, Billy and Karen made there way back with sweeper Gordon and turn-around-cone in tow. We enjoyed some more snacks and I presented Gordon with his finishers medal. Despite having called it short, I felt Gordon had done an excellent job beating me to the finish line. I would have loved to see how a full marathon would’ve played out for us, but I have challenged him to come to Millinocket next year and let me earn that medal back from him. He wished me luck in doing that, confident in his ability to keep it.

Hopefully, there is a Millinocket next year and that this will the the one and only running of Turnocket. If it is required again, based on feed back then I will need to figure out a fire pit and will have to have a designated aid station person to keep an eye on it. Hard to have a fire when everyone is running. And of course, I will have to run the full distance and put Gordon in his place. It will be sweet when he has to place that medal back around my neck.

As half the country begins to breath a sigh of relief from the election anxiety, the world around us continues to reel from the fall Covid spike. Unfortunately, like the spring covid us struck down all the races I would normally do this time of year, Mount Desert Island and Millinocket marathons. Although I was seriously debating about giving up any road marathons all together anyway (all I have to do is read my old blog posts to know why), so I am not overly disappointed by the decision being made for me.

I was going to slip in a 30 mile trail race in place of the marathons, called the Bold Coast Bash . A 10 mile loop run three times that goes along the rocky coast line of Maine with some single track boggy sections tossed in to complete the loop. It sounds like a great race, and one I would thoroughly enjoy, but of course their permits were canceled due to Covid and they could no longer hold the event. So back to the drawing board for plan C.

Plan C would turn out to be another running of the Pemi loop in just under 10 hours with a couple of friends to celebrate my birthday, on my birthday none the less. Our time was a bit slower then what I would’ve typically aimed for but given what I already accomplished this fall then I was just happy to be out in the mountains on a perfect warm fall day. And unlike my first serious attempt back in the mountains after the 100 mile wilderness, a few weeks prior, my calf muscle did not feel like it wanted to explode.

That first major outing was half of what is called the Grafton Notch loop located in the Mahoosuc Mountains of Maine. The traditional full loop close to 40 miles and around 12,000 feet of elevation gain over several mountains. For half the loop in early October my friend Brent and I did 20 miles and around 7000 feet of elevation gain. Overall, it was a great day but a little much for still being in recovery mode. My left calf muscle wasn’t having it and we finished the day in around 6 hours, probably should’ve taken under 5 hours.

Grafton Notch was a beautiful and definitely something I will be adding on the list for next year to do the full loop. After the notch I did back off for a couple weeks, but by the end of October I was back in the mountains running some new to me peaks of Black Mountain and Rumford Whitecap Mountain in Rumford, Maine. Those mountains combined with a second place finish at the the end of the season Trail monster party let me know I was ready for one last big effort and what better plan since no official race was happening was another run at the Pemi.

I joined forces with Brent (again) and one of my other friends Adam joined in. Adam hasn’t been running as much as Brent and myself and the day took its toll on him, but he gutted it out and still put up a sub-10 hour time, by one second! It was awesome to witness and his final push to the end was inspiring, as I know how it feels pushing to your limits with leg cramps and fatigue trying to bring you down.

The end of the Pemi, brought to a conclusion all of my planned big runs for the year (I say this, but even as I am writing this post, I am making plans to do a at home version of the Millinocket marathon with a friend), but my adventures are just beginning. I have decided to change things up a bit for my next big effort (and first official 100 Miler at TMR’s Riverlands 100 in early May), by enlisting a coach into my arsenal. I have hired on Matt Urbanski of TeamRunRun to guide my training from now until Riverlands. Matt comes with a lot of ultra running experience under his belt, an impressive list of accomplishments and a high recommendation from my 100 mile wilderness partner in crime, Brian. I could certainly put together my own free flowing training plan like I always do, that I loosely stick to, but I really want to see how I perform on a more guided path. I haven’t had a coach for over 20 years, since high school cross country. I always did my own thing in marathon training and ultra training. Look where it got me in my marathon training? Just a series of injuries and a slower and slower finish time. I have a lofty goal for Riverlands and I think having Coach Matt on my team will be one of my keys to success.

My first and primary goal is to just finish Riverlands and to have fun while I am doing it, however that may look on the day. With a 32 hour completion time cut if it is doable, and one I could likely train myself on, but I want to make a serious attempt at finishing in under 24 hours. It is a dangerous game to start playing with setting up time goal expectations, particularly on a 100, but once again in my running life I can’t help be drawn to challenging myself. Maybe one day I will be at a place where I don’t care about times, as I have alluded to in some of my other posts, but I am just not there yet. I still want to have fun, and relish the experience, but if I can meet a time goal while doing that then I am certainly going to try.

There is also a bonus of having a coach, as I progress in the coming months and approaching the day then maybe he will reality check me and suggest I adjust my time goal. After all running a 24 hour 100 is going to be vastly different then a 37 hour 100 Mile Wilderness, primarily because there will be a lot of actual running involved. It will be nice to have someone in my court to either support my goal or make an alternate suggestion based on what they are seeing in my training. (yeah, sure Bucky, you listen to other peoples advise so willingly, that it won’t be a challenge whatsoever). Wherever this new training takes me I know it will be doing what I love, and on the trails and mountains that bring me balance and joy in my life. Happy Trails!

The sign says it all, 100 miles of difficult terrain, be prepared for 10 days. That of course holds true for your average hiker doing reasonable day treks and sleeping in the provided lean-tos along the way. However, for myself and my trail partner, Brian, we had other plans. I am not sure I have the words to truly express this experience as it was my first 100, my first time on these trails, my first time running overnight, my first time with a trail partner I barely knew, and so many other firsts. There are just no words to truly express the beauty of our first sunrise on the trail or the sunset on White Cap Mountain. No words to truly describe the angriest chipmunk I have ever heard and seen in my life. No words to express the gratitude you feel when 42 miles into a difficult journey your crew leaves you glow sticks along the dark trail to light your way to the first night time check point. I am filled with appreciation, awe, respect and love for all that happened on the trail and I will do my best to convey the experience, provide my takeaways, and try to give those interested a small understanding of what this adventure meant to me.

More importantly before the tale begins, I have a few people to acknowledge and express my deepest gratitude and thanks to. First and foremost, I need to thank our family and spouses for understanding and affording us all the time away to make this journey happen. These things could never happen without the love, support and understanding provided by our families. Second, I need to share my love to my crew of Val (Scout) and Mindy (Squirrel). Both of these women are absolute rock stars, and amazing athletes, who dedicated so much time and energy to follow two smelly dudes through the cold dark woods all weekend and to help us prepare before. Their knowledge, experience, organization, efficiency, and fun loving energy absolutely lead to the success of our journey and it couldn’t have happened without them. Finally, but certainly not least, I need to thank my trail partner, Brian. He had his own reasons for joining me on this adventure, but to commit to such a thing with a guy you barely know from a few TMR group runs, who has never run an overnight nor gone past 62 miles, and to be patient, composed, and an absolute rock through the entire journey is amazing. Brian in his own words is “short and fat” (he is not fat) and will never be the “fastest runner”, but he is at the top of my list of amazing athletes I have run with. He has 5-6 years of dedicated running experience, but he jumped into the deep end and already had 4 hundreds under his belt. His experience, knowledge, pacing, patience, and athletic prowess saw us through this entire trip and he has my deepest respect and gratitude from one athlete to another. It would never have been the same, or even happened without him leading the way 90% of time. I hope to one day serve in the role he did for me for another on their first 100 miler.

The Maine 100 mile wilderness is something I learned about in my later teen years. It has been on my bucket list since then, but did not take the form of an ultra run until last year. I never found the time to take the 5 days I imagined it would take me to hike what is reported as one of the harder sections of Appalachian trail, so it sat there in the back of my mind for nearly two decades. Fast forward to 2019, where I had gotten into ultra running a few years prior, started eyeing the idea of doing my first 100 miler and started joining Trail Monster Running (TMR) group runs, where I hear these rumors of TMR giving out a buckle to anyone who finishes the wilderness in under 48 hours. To those who don’t know, a buckle is the medal given out for those who finish a 100 in under a certain cut off time at races around the world. They are very special, and each unique to their event. This changed my perspective on the wilderness and what had been a seed for so long, was now springing roots in my brain. However, it didn’t quite jump to life quite yet, as I had other plans for 2020 and wanted my first 100 to be Riverlands, as we all know from my previous writings that plan went to hell in a handbasket riding the covid train.

Then as we also know, I rode that train right in to a planter fasciitis/Achilles injury for most of June and July, 2020 by not training smartly. I had all this built up training, drive and energy from Riverlands training, I simply didn’t know what to do with it. Then on my last long run day before my break in June, I was out with Scout, who would become part of my dynamite crew, and she mentions another TMR, Brian, thinking about running the 100 mile wilderness this fall if his current 100 mile race plan gets canceled. She knew I was interested in doing it one day, and that little bit of water is all it took to spout my seed into a sapling. I had no other plans, I wasn’t going to the BFC 50K this year, it really would be the perfect opportunity, especially if there was another runner willing to go for it at the same time! Not long after that run I messaged Brian to inquire about his interest and it was confirmed, he was very interested and would join me if his race was cancelled.

Then began the waiting game for over a month and Brian’s race stayed on track. No cancellation and it didn’t appear they had any intentions of canceling it. It looked like maybe my sapling needed to shift to an alternate plan, something big, but less burdensome and risky then the Wilderness. I knew from speaking with Scout that she would not want to crew for me if I was in the wilderness by myself for my first 100. So if I didn’t have a partner then it would be a no go. Then another TMR runner, Todd, went out and did the Downeast Sunrise Trail as a solo run, another thing on my bucket list and I decided that would be my fall back up plan to expend this energy that had been looming since May. I told Todd just this in a Facebook comment and that I was just “waiting on a friends race to cancel or not” . Lucky for me, Brian was paying attention to that particular chat, because that was the final push he needed. Brian decided to message his race’s director and ask for a deferment to next year, deferment granted and Brian was in! Early August the final decision was made, the crew was onboard “as long as they could go to Elaine’s” (a bakery in route. They didn’t make it, sorry ladies), and we would roll out the 3rd weekend of September.

Over the next month or so, planning and thinking was basically all I did. I made a few different lists of gear, cloths and food. Ended up bringing way more then I needed, but that is okay because we had the space. I asked a lot of questions of Scout and Brian. Started reviewing maps, and key points. TMR’s founder, Ian, had done this course twice before and had a very organized plan of crew stops and details that were a great help. I bought a gps tracker to follow along and be able to message without cell service, I finalized my lists, and started building up my training again. Finally, the sapling was a full grown tree. We were doing this thing.

The week before the kick off morning, 5 AM on September 19th, was very long and I was bouncing off the walls. I am usually a good sleeper through the night, but not that week. I spent every night waking up every couple hours on edge with eager anticipation. I saved my official packing until Friday morning, so as to not go too crazy and to give me a time waster before heading out that afternoon. Brian and I were sleeping in our vehicles that night so that we could get up and go, plus we both knew it didn’t matter where we slept. Sleeping wasn’t really happening.

Friday morning rolled around, food was prepared, clothes were packed, water jugs were filled, and gear was gathered. By noon on Friday, I was ready to burst out the door, but had to wait around until 2 for a package of Spring Energy gels to arrive. This turned out to be the smartest decision I made. I know those friggin gels were sitting at my post office since noon, due to my delivery notification, but I was abruptly told by the post master that she has “until 2 to get packages ready for pickup and I would have to come back” 2 PM hit and I was back at her window. She still wasn’t ready, but she at least ran out of excuses, shuffled through the boxes, found mine and sent me on my merry way. Finally, I was on my way to meet Brian, who was hours ahead of me, at the Monson AT trail head parking lot.

I arrived at around 5:30. Brian finished preparing a few items then we headed down for a pre-run dinner. We honestly weren’t expecting much in the way of food, but Lakeshore Pub ended up having some surprisingly delicious food. This was probably the biggest surprise I had all weekend. Seriously, it is Monson, Maine, middle of no where ATV type country, who would’ve guessed?!

By 7:30, we were back in the parking lot, tossed in Brian’s containers in the bed of my truck. The truck would be picked up by our crew the next day in time to meet us at 2 PM for the first crew stop, 30 miles and 5 mountain summits into our journey. At 8 PM, alarms were set, bedding placed out in the vehicles, and let the tossing and turning begin. All in all I think I managed to get about 4 hours of sleep, because between getting my mind to settle, getting comfortable, and listening to the in/out of the vehicle that pulled in around 10:30 and decided to leave the engine running all night, it was not a night were easy sleeping was found. However, at 4 AM when my alarm went off I was ready to roll anyway.

The hour to our start went by faster then I expected between getting dressed, lubing up all the necessary areas, starting up the gps tracker, making and eating my hot oatmeal and coffee breakfast and doing the last gear check, the official start was upon us. We started our watches promptly at 5 AM and away we were going setting an easy pace down the headlamp lit trail. Let our 100 mile journey begin!

The first hour of running was super easy paced and it would be basically the pace we would set the entire trek. The terrain was what one would expect for Maine and was root filled, rocky, up and down technical, with some slab of rock and boulders tossed in. This would also be the common theme throughout the journey only really giving you small breaks of nice trail here or there. We did make an attempt at a brief stop when the sun rose, the orange beams of light coming through the trees was stunning. They were like someone was shining a giant orange colored beam flash light along the trail, but alas no picture was to be had and this would be one of the many moments reserved just for us.

Our first real pause moment, and brief “where the hell did the trail go” moment was 6.6 miles in at Little Wilson Falls. We took a breather, and admired the beauty of where we were, took off our jackets from the chilly morning start, and away we went, charging towards the first of many climbs of Barren mountain in about 10 miles.

Along the way to Barren we did have one surprise (well, a surprise to me, apparently I didn’t pay attention to my notes that said “stream crossing” ) and it would be a fording of a the first stream, Long Pond. Shoes were off and my impatience of a few hikers lead me to cross a little further up stream then the designated shallower section with the assist rope. It turned out to be pretty deep and slippery in areas and so early into this trip, I did not make the wise choice. I did get lucky and managed to cross without slipping or, getting soaked to the bone in what I can only describe as water straight from the artic, but it was stupid. Brian smartly waited for the hikers to cross then forded himself across at the designated area, and was only a couple minutes behind me of which I spent waiting on a rock for him, before we started the steady, but not so steep climb up Barren.

The ascent to Barren summit and the subsequent mountains of Fourth, Third, Columbus and Chairback that the trail would take us on were respectively easy climbs at our steady pace. I say respectively easy climbs because none of them were grueling at our pace and my training in the White Mountains prepared me well for steeper longer climbs then these. I believe it was at Fourth or Third mountain that we did our second brief stop to grab some more solid calories from our packs. It was around noon and I decided to eat my first burrito of avocado, sweet potato, black beans. Before that I did keep a steady stream of calories of 200 calories an hour in the form of tailwind, a cliff bar, and some honey waffles.

It was around 1 PM that we hit the final first section summit of Chairback and got to admire a real view before our last few miles to the first crew stop at the Gulf of Hagas. Our spirits were high and with a goal of arriving at Crew stop #1 between 2 PM and 3 PM, we were right on track.

Not long after the start of our Chairback descent down Brian was running short on water and decided to fill us his flask from a stream. He had a sterile light pen and purifies his water in a matter of seconds. It was small, quick and handy and definitely something I will be adding to my future gear. I would say the entire endeavor took us under 2 minutes and we were gliding down the trail again. Well, I like to think of myself as gliding down the trail, Brian says “I control free fall” down a descent, “slipping and flailing” and he isn’t sure how I don’t hurt myself. And he isn’t going to tell me to “slow down”, but I should. I freely admit I let gravity do the work for me and free fall down a mountain, but I like to think my body knows what it is doing and unconsciously knows where to land. It is when I try and control my downward trajectory is when I get injured.

Injury free, we arrived at crew point #1 at 2:50 PM. It was a quick resupply of water in my bladder (almost empty), my empty flask of tailwind, a couple of my homemade electrolyte pills, 800 calories of bars, gummies, and another burrito. Stuffed some food in my mouth, I don’t remember what, and within 20 mins Scout and Squirrel had us on our way. Scout followed us down the half of mile to the west branch of Pleasant River at the Gulf of Hagas, in case we fell in and needed new shoes after the long crossing. We both made it across fine, and this time I didn’t feel the need to find deeper risker water. Only took 30 miles, but maybe I was getting smarter?

The first couple miles after the stream crossing were probably the only real runnable trail we have been on all day and I started going out a bit quick, and Brian suggested I slow down. We have 15 miles and about 5 hours to cover and are right on time, no need to rush. I do and not long after we are turning back onto the rock and root ridden single track trails that is the AT. Of course Brian starts running when we hit this section, because somehow that is more acceptable then my running on easier trails? I forgot about that moment until just now, as I am writing this, what’s up with that Brian?!

At 5 miles we stop at a stream and Brian fills up a flask again. I think he just likes doing it at this point. There was definitely plenty of clean water back at our crew stop. Again it doesn’t take him long and we start up the long climb up the Gulf Hagas Mountain and Brian powers up this climb and the subsequent climbs of West Peak and Hay Mountain like a bat out of hell. Seriously, between 35 to 40 miles are the first real tough ascents of the day and he was superman flying up the mountains waiting patiently for me several times. Maybe there is something in that fresh spring water of his? hmmmm…..

This is also the section where I earn my trail name from Brian and Petrol comes to life. As many of my trail friends know when I eat and run, I fart and I fart a lot. Can’t help it, and it doesn’t really matter what I eat. Unfortunately for Brian he was in the zone of influence on more then one occasion, and the wind going up Hay was not in our favor and whereas I wasn’t catching him up the mountain, my cloud of death certainly did. Brian decided at some point that I was Petrol and I felt it was super fitting.

It wasn’t long before the sun was setting, our headlamps were coming back out, jackets going back on, and at 40 miles in we were climbing what was to be our last big climb of the entire trail, White Cap Mountain. This turned out to not be that true as there was one or two climbs left that really felt far worse then anything we did in the first 50 miles, but at this point I was just excited to be down climbing for awhile. We had done nearly 14,000 feet of climbing through this first day and I was definitely feeling it. Then I turned around…..

Every step we had taken to get to this point, was absolutely worth the most perfect sunset we could have asked for. The view from the summit was so surreal for us in that moment that no final picture could have possibly captured it. We stopped for a solid few minutes just admiring the silhouetted mountain range against the orange twilight sky. It was worth every second, but the cold wind and desire to keep moving didn’t keep up there for long and we started our 3 mile decent to crew stop #2!

Along the way we ran into a couple with a tent set up in the Logan Brook Lean-to who we were pretty sure were getting busy, but why the hell not? Dark night, beautiful stars above the tree canopy, deep red embers burnings in their fire…..wait, what the hell kind of story am I writing? They couple were kind enough to stop whatever it is they were doing and point us in the direction of the water source as Brian needed some more superman stream water. Not too long after our coitus friendly couple we ran into a glowing object hanging from a tree and some weird ass plastic Dalmatians sitting on a large rock. We debated about what turned out to be a glow stick for a minute or two, but ultimately settled on taking it and leaving the dogs. For the next mile and half we found many more glow sticks all leading us to our first night time stop at crew point #2, Logan Brook Road.

We arrived at crew point #2 at 8:35 PM. I had figured it would be about 5 hours for us from when we left crew#1 and it took us 5 hours 25 mins. Not too bad of an estimate for someone who has never done this before. We did another quick re-supply of water, trail wind and food, stuffed more calories down my gullet, did a quick change of shirt, change of socks/shoes, greased up the feet, changed headlamps batteries, and 23 mins later the crew had us on our way again, not wasting any time.

The next 13 to 14 miles were pretty uneventful. That is one of the nice things I think about night time running. I felt no obligation to stop and admire the wilderness around me. It is too friggin dark to do anything beside just keep you head up and keeping moving. We had two crew stops: Johnston Pond Road at mile 52 miles and and Jo-Mary Road at 59 miles. Both stops were the same with quick re-fills of bladder and flask, change of headlamp batteries, coffee, lube up some parts, change my contact lens (this went reasonable well) and move your ass. I did switch my primary calorie source to my spring energy gels at the suggestion of Scout, because I couldn’t stomach the idea of food anymore. She was totally right on about the gels and thankfully I had waited for them to arrive. Even with the the change of food and contacts, we were quick. The first stop taking 22 mins and the last night time stop being 13 mins! This would be our fastest crew point and we departed into the dark of the night at 1:48 AM.

We had 15 miles to go crew stop #5 and expected to be there by 7 AM. We were flying and if we kept up this pace we could be finishing in 33-34 hours! Both Brian and I were riding a high out of the latest crew point and had the utmost confidence that we could keep cruising through the night.

Then 2 hours and 5 miles into this section the wheels came off the Petrol cart. It was like a light switch. My lower back seized up, my mile pace cut in half of what we were averaging and I started falling asleep walking. I was stumbling all over the trail like a drunken sailor. I almost fell over several times, thankful Brian was there to catch me. A message to Brian: I swear that bat who sprung out of the tree was trying to kill me, but thank you for arresting my fall. Things were not going well AT ALL. I remember saying to Brian, “if things don’t change, I can’t continue”. His response was perfect and something along the lines of “we are 10 miles from nowhere, you have no choice”. The important part about all of this, despite how slow I was moving, at least I was moving. It took me a few miles into realize most of my issue was sleep deprivation and not my back. I just needed to lay down and that became the goal. Just make it to the next lean-to and take a power nap. It took two hours, but we made it to the Potawadjo Spring Lean-to and I promptly cocooned myself under my emergency survival blanket and fell asleep.

This left Brian shivering and cold, letting his muscles lock up and left him wondering what the hell he was going to do. All I can imagine he knew at the time was that some asshole he barely knows just curled up into a ball and fell asleep, the gps wasn’t sending out messages, and how they hell is he going to get him out of here? Little did Brian or I realize, since it was my first experience at this, is that 20 mins later I would spring up and be ready to go fresh as a daisy.

That is exactly what happened, I remember coming out from under my blanket, seeing Brian shivering cold, saying to him something about “let’s go” and him asking about my back. I could feel that I was, in his later words “not his favorite person for about 45 mintues”, so I just said, “it seems better”. I knew full well that my back was fine and I was fine and my little power nap was all I needed, but I wasn’t about the relay that information to someone who I had just basically but through hell.

Not long after we were moving again, I was able to get crew messages out that we were okay, but behind schedule. We also saw a sign that said 32 miles to Abol Bridge, our final destination. This was the first real moment I had where I was absolutely certain that we were going to make it. We were only a 50K away from the finish! I couldn’t really share this excitement with Brian at the time, because we weren’t talking. I felt terrible for causing his legs to cease up, but there was little I could do about it and he was still moving forward. We had 7 or so miles to get to our crew for stop #5 and I wasn’t completely convinced Brian was joining me beyond it.

It took another mile or two, but I remember making a comment to Brian “that your legs seem to be moving well again” and that was all it took to break the ice from our stopping issue and we were back to conversing again. Mostly complaining about the shitty terrain. We were really tired of roots, rocks, and up and downs. It took a lot of grunting, moaning, and groaning, but with a mile to go we ran into some hikers who said our crew was ready to go and eagerly waiting for us and soon saw Scout running back shouting to Squirrel to start boiling the water, we were coming in. Finally at 8:22 AM we arrived at Nahmakanta Lake, only 90 mins beyond our predicted time! I think this was just the mental boost both of us needed, as the wee hours of night and early dawn felt so very long, we just thought we were hours and hours behind schedule.

Our crew was in fact ready to roll, not long after arriving they were serving up hot oatmeal and hot chocolate. I know neither Brian nor I packed hot chocolate, but thank goodness our crew knew exactly what needed. Everything was delicious, Brian warmed up a bit in the truck, we re-supplied our gear and once again without there being a shred of doubt that we were continuing S&S crew had us back on our feet and back on the trail in under 20 mins! Those two truly are amazing and know just the right things to say, my favorite being back from crew point #1 or #2, with “Harden the Fuck Up”.

By our calculations, we only had 5.7 miles to go to crew#6 at Pollywog Gorge. I will never forget Scout’s parting words from Nahmakanta Lake, “don’t forget there is a hill in this section”…..Hill my ass…that fucking thing might as well have been Everest. By far the worst ascent we had experienced. It probably has a lot to do with being over 26 hours and 70 miles plus into a run. This section runs you up, down, up, down, up, up, up, up, down, down, up, up, up, up and wait, let us loop you back down to this stupid lake again, and then back up. At one point Brian turns and says “it is hard to remember where we really are”. Trying to bring back our attention to the absolute beauty we are surrounded by. It didn’t work for either of us. This section SUCKS! The worse part about it is, before the trail sends you winding, switching backing all the way down to road where we thought the crew would be waiting, is you hit the summit sign for Nesuntabunt Mountain at a whooping 1,520’…..Seriously a 1500 foot mountain. Fuck you.

So at the end of this very high Everest like mountain climb we hit the road, no crew. Then I remember that you cross this road twice and the crew is at the second intersection, not the first. But wait a minute, I am already past 6 miles from where we left the crew for a 5.7 mile section and my watch is never accurate, it is always under the actual distance. Then I recall a conversation between Scout and Brian back at crew #5 stop that the last part of crew stop #6 isn’t 20 miles like the map suggests it is really 18 miles and it dawns on me. This section is 8 miles not 5.7 miles and why the last section is shorter, ugh great.

Brian and I cross the road, we are both pretty mentally over this trail and its crap. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot but to figure out you have another 2 1/2 miles to go before a break, when you are tired, depleted, exhausted, whatever word you want to use, it is rather deflating. And this very section, is where later on after our journey was completed and the next morning on the drive home is the birth place of Brian’s trail name, Joker. Welcome to the party. I will save the tale of Joker’s birth for Brian to share with those he wishes to.

We continued to slog through this section which had its on fair share of some up and downs, but nothing compared to before the road crossing. Finally, after what felt like a never ending loop to no where we spot Scout on the trail, doing what she does, scouting. She was happy to see us and they had gotten worried, for a brief second until we informed her that this section is actually 8 miles not under 6. She ran ahead of us to prepare some more hot water, as we both wanted noodles. We arrived at our final crew station at 11:39 AM.

The crew was once again was spot on to what we needed. We shared some laughs, ate some good calories, made sure we greased up some last parts, and restocked our vests one last time. At this stage I was basically down to drinking water between stops. From crew stop #5 and #6 I hadn’t eaten anything and barely drank any tailwind. I figured I was okay. I was still eating enough at the crew points and everything was still working in the inner bodies processing department. The good thing for Joker was less food meant less gas. You’re welcome.

Crew stop #6 was our longest stop by far, but we were on our way in 37 mins. We figured we would cover the last 18 miles in about 6 hours. See you at the finish were the parting words to our crew and something about Scout expecting us to catch an AT through hiker, we didn’t.

The next 18 miles, were very much the longest 18 miles of my nearly 30 year running life. Joker started out leading as he had been our steady pacer the entire trip, but by time we got 3 miles in he was done. His shin muscles were giving him issues and for the first time in 85 miles Brian asked if I would lead. He thought having someone in front would help him focus to keep going. My leading the last 13 miles to the end was an easy request, it really was the least I could do for him, and we were off. It was a go a mile or two and rest a minute game, but we slowly checked off the miles one after another. The ascent and descent of Rainbow ledges reeked havoc on our bodies, but we pushed on. There was really no stopping at this point and in the final 3 miles Joker was back on my heels and we pushed the pace right to the finish line, happy to see a few more glow sticks to let us know we were near. There waiting at the Golden Road that crosses Abol Bridge were the smiling faces of Scout and Squirrel cheering us to the end and presenting us with our hard earned belt buckles! I no longer had any more firsts to make on this journey and my idea tree had lived its life! We had finished in 37 hours 24 mins!

That was 37 hours of grueling work. I learned many lessons for my future endeavors, and have since experienced many emotions that I have never had after an ultra before. I want to process and reflect on both those things more before I share them. For now I am happy to report that after 37 hours, 20k in elevation, many liters of fluids, thousands of calories, and a few scrapes, cuts and bruises, I have finished my first 100! It is glorious and I’m truly one happy runner.

I have been training comfortably hard since my lower recovery miles in July and was able to build back up to over 200 miles for the month of August. I decided to cap my month off with one of my favorite ultra single day runs in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Pemigewasset Wilderness (Pemi).

The Pemi loop spans approximately 30 miles and earns nearly 10,000 feet of elevation gain over its eight 4,000 foot peaks. The terrain found along this route very diverse, ranging from wet, dark, slippery forest all the way up to rocky, alpine, above tree line exposure. It is a technical and challenging day that requires planning for long periods of self-sustaining running and power hiking (at least power hiking for me. I am sure the fastest known time people are running up these climbs).

The original plan was for my running friend, Brent, and me to complete the traverse on Saturday, August 29th, but Brent smartly pushed against that plan due to weather and we switched to Sunday the 30th to avoid heavy rains. I initially thought we should go rain or shine, how else can you prepare for rain during races if you don’t train in it? As I was drinking my coffee on Saturday morning, and watching it downpour, I had no regrets about the switch.

Our primary goal was to complete the trek in 10-11 hours, my personal best is just under 9 hours and Brent had never done the loop before. On Saturday, I spent part of the day packing my running vest with a 1L bladder of lime water, and around 2,000 calories of food consisting of kashi and cliff bars, honey waffles, my protein/mct/coffee mix, and a wrap. I tested out a spinach wrap of quinoa, roasted onion/green pepper/almonds, seitan, and mustard. I wanted to see how it tasted and traveled in the pack for my upcoming 100 miler. I didn’t take more then 1 liter of water, as I knew it was going to be a cooler day and my intake would be down and there would be a refill at around 16 miles.

Beyond water and calories, my vest contained my small first aid kit, spare contact lens, local map, wind breaker jacket, and my sawyer mini filter system. The sawyer mini is a replacement for my life straw. I like it because I can put it right on my bladder straw and not lose time filtering water. My cloths for the day would be my hat, my running shorts with built in compression, long sleeve shirt with hood, darn tough socks, and my Carson running shoes. I had everything ready to roll to go pick Brent up at his apartment on the 3 hour drive over to the Lincoln Woods parking lot to start our day. I set the alarm for 3 AM and tried to hit the hay at 8 PM.

Unfortunately, my plan of sleeping 7 hours did not come to fruition. I tossed and turned until 10 PM (my normal bed time) and woke up at 11:30, 12:45, and 1:45. I finally said screw it and got out by at 2:30 AM, made my coffee, cooked up a couple of impromptu egg sandwiches for us to eat on the ride over, grabbed my gear and headed out the door.

On the drive over Brent deferred to me on which direction we would go in. You can go the traditional clockwise which gives you most of your climbing in the first 15 miles or you can go counter-clockwise and do your climbing at the end. It really boils down to if you want 5-6 miles of relatively flat easy running in the beginning or the end. I am always intrigued to go counter-clockwise so that you are training more vertical on 15 mile legs, but I ultimately decided to stick to the traditional clockwise. Brent ended up liking this direction and made mention that he wouldn’t want to go the other way.

Brent and I arrived at the Lincoln woods parking lot at just after 6 and were ready to hit the trail by 6:30. A good start time to not have to worry about head lamps at the start or finish.

We started out with an easy 9-10 min per mile pace to cover just over a mile to the turn off onto Osseo trail to start our first climb up Mount Flume. This trail starts off gradual but is much more technical than Lincoln Woods. It weaves through the forest and gains steepness on up and down rolling terrain. The Osseo trail is notorious for its switchbacks and ladder sections which slowed us down a bit, but we reached the summit of Mount Flume within an hour and half. We had covered the first 6 miles in that time and gained some good elevation still carrying an overall 15 min/mile average. This made us happy to have some bank time for our 20 min/mile average we were aiming to maintain.

I can’t say we were happy to hit summit of Flume and start along the Franconia Ridge trail. Normally this ridge line is a mountain runners dream with well compacted sections, large granite slabs, and spanning views to keep your interest during some not terrible climbs of Mount Liberty, Lincoln, and Lafayette. Unfortunately, this day in the alpine zone was not as predicted with partly cloudy skies and light 20 mph wind gusts. Today was cloudy, foggy, with 60 mph wind gusts. The kind that can easily knock you off your feet and suck the air out of your lungs.

We made the turn from Flume and did out best to run the short mile or so to Mount Liberty. The view didn’t get any better and we knew it was just going to be a slug fest with the wind. We made a quick pit stop on Liberty to put on our wind breakers, and ate a quick snack, before we continued to take our beating.

We didn’t stop or talk much during our 4 mile ridge traverse and just did out best to push forward toward Lafayette where we would finally descend into the treeline again and hopefully get a break from the constant balancing act of keeping the right amount of downward force to keep you planted during the gusts, while also not causing you to fall over when the gust ceased.

Despite the technical descent from Lafayette, we were quite happy to be getting out of the wind and on to a relatively tame section of trail that was wet, and contains several ups and downs that goes on for many miles before you begin the large boulder riddled ascent of Garfield. We were also able to remove our wind breakers in this section and wouldn’t need them again until later.

The climb up Garfield was slower going then we would have liked, but our legs needed the much needed recovery from Franconia Ridge and we were able to chat again so the time went by quickly.

After Garfield it is just a series of steep downward technical sections and lumpy hills, with a few runnable sections between. We were mostly reduced to a steady power hiking pace as we started to climb again up towards Galehead Hut. This is when I started to grow concerned about hitting our 10 hour goal. Between Mount Flume to descending Garfield we went from 15 mins in the bank to 30 mins in the hole. Hitting our 15 mile maker at 5 1/2 hours. I also knew that we had put the hardest sections behind us and could gain sometime back if we did a quick fill and lunch at the hut and didn’t sit around a lot.

We hit the Galehead hut at 16 miles and around 5 hours 45 mins in. I ate my wrap that I was testing. It tasted good, went down easy, not too dry, wrap wasn’t soggy, and seemed to have survived bouncing around in my pack. We filled up our water at the hut supply, no filtering required, and within 10 mins was on our way back on the trail to begin the suck-fest that would be the South Twin climb.

And that is exactly what the climb was. The steep, rocky, and wet less then a mile ascent of South Twin seemed to be a never ending section of suffering. It felt like I had gotten punched in the gut, and I don’t think I spoke more then a few words over the 25-30 mins it took us to climb this bitch. For me this was the hardest section of the day, and I think Brent would agree, as he also seemed to just be grunting his way up. Once we hit the summit, I didn’t even stop long enough to take a picture. We hit the AT trail section and started the 2 mile trek over to the bond cliff trail.

It wasn’t until about 1/4 mile in along the AT section where I said to Brent, “I know we should start running again, but I don’t feel like it” and he responded “I don’t care anymore, I am just following your lead”. Within another 1/4 we were coming out of a energy funk from South Twin and started a jog. For the first time in 11 miles we would crack our 20 min/mile barrier and lay down some 18 minute miles.

We would stay in the 18-20 min mile range throughout the AT section and we made a brief stop to toss back on our wind breakers as we approached the bond cliff trail and re-entered the alpine zone a.k.a. strength training against wind. The wind did not let us down and continued its assault on our bodies. Luckily the exposed areas are brief in this area and it wasn’t long before we were protected from the wind, back in some tree coverage, and starting our ascent of Mount Bond.

I was expecting this to be another suffer-fest as I was still a little cranky from South Twin, but the climb was more gradual and steady and we were able to maintain a solid pace. The sun also began to poke through the clouds and at the summit of Bond we were finally awarded with our first real view of the day.

After 20 plus miles, and a clear view we could see our final climb that would be Bond cliff. Our breeze friend was still with us, but we didn’t care and pushed the pace running the short descent and back up to the cliffs. The trail was rocky but runnable, and there were definitely moments where the wind still sucked your breath out and knocked you off kilter, but the joy of a final climb with a view would not be subdued.

With the final climb behind us, we started our final 4 mile decent down Bondcliff trail which is a gradual slope of mostly soft trail with some rocks tossed in. Each mile we descended was better then the last in terms of speed and we were gaining some lost time back.

It wasn’t long before we were finally back at the Lincoln Wood trail that we had turned off from at the start hours ago. Now we just had the remaining 5ish miles to run on an old rail road bed that is relatively flat, wide, and compacted easy trails to the end. We found that we could pick up the pace more and for the first time since 6:30 this morning we were actually doing what is probably considered running and ticking off 9 mins per mile.

Soon along this section we started seeing the normal sights of casual hikers/walkers, bikers, and tourists that stream to this trail. I knew this meant we were close, and we rounded the final curves and soon saw the bridge we had started our day on. We cruised across the bridge to the opposite side to end our day where it began, in 9 hours 32 mins. We did it!

Overall, I am really happy with our performance. Whereas I did not set a personal best for the day, we beat the goal for the day. Not bad for my first major mountain effort since my Achilles/calf issues not so long ago and for Brent’s first ultra distance. I also feel my hydration and food intake went well keeping me energized and helping me build back confidence in my system for my upcoming 100 mile wilderness adventure. I am also happy to report that during and after my calves and feet haven’t felt this good all summer. That really solidifies for me the decision to switch away from my thinner Xero’s to the more cushioned Carson’s.

I don’t think there was anything Brent or I could have done differently on this day to improve our performance. The wind really had the greatest impact on our time and I believe had it been the partly cloudy with light wind gusts then I would’ve set a new personal best. All in all it was an amazing day in the mountains and I’m happy I got to challenge myself on this loop again. Looking forward to another running next summer!

After about a month of rest and recovery I am working my way back up to fighting form. My recovery consisted of 2 weeks of zero running, followed by another 2 weeks of easy running. Lots of stretching out my calves and consistent icing of the heels, feet, and calves. I also switched out from my beloved 5mm Xero running shoes to Carson’s. The Carson’s are still zero drop, but consist of a 10 mm sole with a 5 mm cushion insert for a total of 15 mm. A significant difference from the Xero’s and I really feel it. I am still all for natural movements, but I am definitely enjoying the extra cushion on tough terrain. Overall, my recovery went smooth and I feel good with where I am currently at. I have been in the mountains a couple times for easier paced distance hikes and have built back to running ultra distances. Last week I was able to run 55 miles in the week with accomplishing a 27 Mile technical trail run at the end of the week.

This 27 mile run was all of the Trail Monster Dirt Series trail races (6, 9, & 12 Miles) all done back to back and is referred to the Ultra Extreme Bad-Ass (UXBA). I have referenced this challenge before in April with an S on the end for “supreme”, by adding an additional 16 miles on. I am happy to report that my UXBA this week was right around the same time I had run this section before. Since this was a solo adventure as none of my running friends were able to join, I decided my run report would be a series of selfies.

With the UXBA behind me and feeling good, I am committed to moving onto bigger things. At the end of the month I will be tackling the Pemigewasset Loop (pemi) in New Hampshire that is a 50K which summits eight 4,000 foot peaks. I did this loop at part of my BFC training last year, and feel confident going into it again this year.

In September instead of traveling to Tennessee of another run at the BFC the big guns are coming out and I will be doing what was put on hold due to Covid in May, my first 100 miler in one go. I am planning on tackling the 100 mile wilderness in northern Maine which is at the end of the Appalachian trail. When I finish it in under 48 hours then I will earn my first belt buckle from TMR and be on a short list of those who have earned them. I feel mentally ready for the momentous task and will continue to do all that I know to do in order to best prepare my body for the unknown. Namaste.