|From my BAMR (Bad Ass Mother Runner) friend, Freedom.|
The Lighthouse100 is a new Michigan race introduced for 2017. It is currently the second 100 mile course in the state—offering a 50 mile option as well. Basically in my backyard, I was ecstatic to see it pop up as I was considering going back to the Kettle Moraine with Evie around the same date. She would be attempting her first 100 miler. With a race this close we figured we could have it crewed or paced easily.
|Magnet for the crew to tag cars.|
|I am the STORM: Sharon, Evie, myself and Krista.|
|Dave Krupski, race director, shows us the prized buckle pre-race.|
Race Day: Let's get to itI really can't say I was nervous or on edge about this race. I tried to soak it in the most I could and stay in the moment. After three non-finishes, my nerves don't get the best of me. I even slept pretty well at the Michigan Inn & Lodge in Petoskey—great price, nice rooms and lots of extras. I think this place is under-rated. It's located about 5 miles from the start. The only downfall was the loud men who carried on a little late outside our room. they were definitely NOT running 100 miles the next day and a half. Thank goodness I had ear plugs with me!
We started out the race by touching the Petoskey lighthouse, walked back to the start line and waited for the official countdown with 71 runners. Unlike trail races, people were running instead of walking over the start line. Evie and I had met another runner during our training 50 mile run on the Tart Trail in Traverse City. We ended up running with him during the race for about 45 miles. One of the reasons I love ultra races is because kindred spirits run them and conversations are easy between runners. There were no port-a-potties in this race, so we stopped in at a gas station and Flap Jack Shack (which was busy) during that first 20 miles. We kept our pace controlled, and Sharon stepped on the course at about mile 10. With so much talking I decided I needed to play some tunes to keep my own mouth from running and to slow my heart rate. It was going to be a long race and I didn't want to lose too much energy early on.
Right on cue, our pace dropped around noon when the heat rose. In my mind, I just knew that some people would want to push too much being a road race and under estimating the humidity and the effects of how ling this journey would be. However, Evie and I knew that our slow run was going to be what ever it had to be to make it through. The heat was rising up from the pavement as well. I sensed the struggle in both Evie and our new running friend. I felt it too. It was now the heat talking for us and we had a little more walk. If we hit any shade at all our pace picked up for that pocket. Although it was windy throughout the race, it blew hot air around and was better than no wind at all. There were reports of 30-40 mph winds.
|Avocado love: |
I must have eaten three of these.
|Sean stepping on to pace at mile 45.|
At Mile 52 I aided a couple blisters, changed my socks and found that my other shoes would not go on my feet without pain. My feet had swollen too much. I changed my inserts from the other shoes and continued with the shoes that I had been running in. Evie was having some discomfort and retaining from possibly all the Tailwind we had been drinking. The assistant director, Ethan Olds, advised her to switch to water for a while, which worked out well for her. I switch to more water too as I was feeling it too. However, by mile 55 I was feeling a little nauseated. I started eating small Ginger Rescue tablets that I had on me. Here we go, again. The one mantra that had repeatedly crossed my mind in the past came back, "No Surrender."
|My beautiful friend right after she hit|
her top mileage at mile 52. Everything
after this is gravy, right?
|To change our clothes: sweet pop-up tent via Kendra.|
|Seeing my family at mile 60 and heading out again.|
They were beaming.
As we headed off into the falling sun and darkness, the moon was large and orange. Racheal kept pointing out the qualities of the night, while Evie and I just couldn't cool down and kept moving.
|Time to get moving and rip off these layers because |
we keep overheating within a few steps.
Vehicles were moving particularly fast and roaring their engines with a couple going back and forth which was a little unnerving. We continually moved off the road and into the gravel. By mile 65, I was having stronger nausea. I kept eating Mamma Chia squeezes, raspberry HUMA gels, and avocado. Those things seemed to go down. We drank a SPARK every 10 to 20 miles throughout the race for some added vitamins and caffeine. I never really did feel sleepy or tired. Evie told me to go on at some part of the race, and I barked back, "No."
Our next pacers, Kristi and Casey stepped on with lots of energy and conversation.They kept us on course and entertained in the dark quite well, and had checked out their route before hand. I think their section was a little harder to find the roads, but the course was marked with blinking blue lights to help guide us which was reassuring. By the time we arrived at mile 70, I had Krista join me a little early. I was still feeling ill and wanted her there, which proved to be a good call. I was feeling a little emotional, and she read me messages of encouragement from our BAMRs of our Another Mother Ragnar Relay Team and GrindStone SKOCHF (Special Kind of Crazy Hall of Fame) tribe.
Evie and I looked at each other in the light of the aid station car lights and I could tell that NEITHER of us was about to say anything about dropping. I just kept thinking, "Do not say it! Don't you say it." We kept getting up. No Surrender.
I knew my feet were becoming liquid blister pads and my big toe was really going to be a sight by the time it was released from this shoe. I just couldn't do anything about it now. I couldn't allow myself to dwell, when everything else was functional ... besides my occasional dry heave on the side of the road. If you want it, you have to slam it down and claim it in pain. That is one thing I have learned from ultra.
This is about the same time that when we would sit at the aid station, we would get a chill, and then be sweating within 1/16 of a mile when we got back on the road/path. When we finally hit the Tart Trail in Traverse City it seemed really dark. We saw quite a bit of wildlife including a porcupine (which Krista jump a little on the Tart Trail but enjoyed), deer, fox and I don't know what else, since I had to turn on some tunes to stay motivated. Evie and I were running behind Krista and Annalise—who was switching on and off with Dani. Our pacers did an amazing job staying positive, aiding us at stations and even working on our knotted shoulders and necks which hurt in the early morning from carrying 2 liters the entire time. It became hard to determine what things hurt more, and again I didn't want to think about it. That's ultra.
As we headed closer to the last HARD cut-off on East Bay, I had a feeling of "almost there" with 20 miles to go. My nausea was lifting and the birds were chirping. We would be heading out on to the Bayshore Marathon route and it was a good familiarity. Again, there were no rest rooms and I walked an extra distance to the East Bay park facilities only to find them locked. Then, walked back to go back out on the official course. My feet were barking.
The sun came up along the beautiful drive of bay and homes. Mile 85 Evie began to slow and was becoming more tired. Her feet were hurting too of course. I don't think either of us were talking much so the pacers held the conversation. She said again to just go on. Sharon said, "You are going to finish. It's just a matter of when."
That word "when" played in my head. In the next couple miles I started to feel an urgency to see my family soon and my pace picked up a little. Kendra pulled up and let us know that it was about 3 miles to the 91 mile marker at the fire house. One of the Zwitty race workers pulled up and handed us water if we needed it. I felt a surge, and at the same time it was getting hot again. We were in full sun once more. It was the longest 4 miles of rolling road hills, and there is where I lost Evie a ways back with her pacer. The only thing I worried about was heat exhaustion. Actually being physically incapable of finishing. That would stink. The fact that I could think about it, meant that I was alright.
I reached the firehouse with a real restroom. I took care of my fueling, and my family pulled in to find me. Hell yeah, mile 91. Again, pure joy in their faces made me feel a little less of a mess, because this was really happening. I proceeded with my daughter for a little ways and then my son. Run/walk again. They were so excited. By mile 90-something I just wanted it over...but no DNF today. I thought about how pissed I would be at myself if I DNFed this race. The death of a dream. People DNF for personal reasons and acts of nature and it's alright. I've been there three times with always a tremendous obstacle. But sore feet and heat was not going to be mine. Slam my foot down again.
Going by some residential homes, an elder man hobbled out with some waters for Kendra and I. How very sweet. I would have hugged him if I didn't know I was a stinky disaster and he'd regret bringing that water. Other racers were heading home from the finish with their crews of decorated cars with numbers — honking, rolling down their windows to chat up some encouraging words and waving at us. I knew we were some of the last survivors. Finishing is winning in every sense when it comes to an ultra. It isn't a puffed up false to make one feel better. It isn't a participation trophy. It's grit and TRUTH. So no matter where we came in, I wanted to cross that finish line. I knew Evie wouldn't be stopping with me out there. Kendra's husband kept us informed about where we each were.
|Dash to the finish with my girl.|
My husband and son ran ahead when we finally got close to the finish. I grabbed my daughter's hand and ran for it. Ethan Olds was waiting there with arms up and the clock was still going. 30 hours / 18 minutes. That is my "Hell yeah, Mother Fucker" moment that I couldn't say out loud because … children.
Evie came in at 30 hour / 53 minutes. We did it! Evie had told our new runner friend on that training 50 mile run last month when we met him, that he was looking at the last two finishers, and he laughed…we all did. But we were serious and I couldn't be more proud. My feet however, were destroyed with heat rash and blisters. There is no doubt in my mind that more people would have finished if not for the surprise hottest day of the year.
|The buckle award for 100 milers.|
70 toed the line to start
70% overall finish (which is an outstanding percentage)
Would I do it again?
Absolutely! The Zwitty team puts on a great race and is very encouraging to see the participants finish. We saw the Ethan Olds at several stations throughout the race and he was enthusiastic and helpful with advice. I had emailed Dave Krupski several times prior to the race and he replied within a couple hours and encouraged interaction. This race is extremely accessible for crews and pacers—going through several small vacation towns. Note: Next year they are reversing the course to end in Petoskey. That could feel all new again.
|Hell yeah! It's an INKnBURN finish of Run or Die.|
|With Krista my crew leader that had my back 100% for 100 miles. I am so grateful. |
I think I am retaining 10 lbs in this photo of fluid. My hands were THICK with the rest of me!
Some fun stuff:
|Crew vehicle with banner that followed us|
with our numbers (not shown here).
|Customized side of hats with|
|Front of our 4 hats with Dorothy running. |
She is an adventurer.