Run Rabbit Run 100 Mile Race

Run Rabbit Run (RRR) hit my radar in Wyoming 2022 while running Big Horn 100. It was a very odd number of conversations that lead me to register in 2023. Fast forward to February after finding out I (once again) did not get into the Leadville or Western States races via the lotteries my mind quickly shifted to make RRR my A goal race for 2023.

Training

Sooo, I qualified for 2023 Boston and was entered into the May race. My early 2023 training focused on having a good time there, but also continuing to work toward my mountain goals. Hard mix but it was a lot of what I love. I still had my fun easy long runs on the weekend but had to add some speed work in midweek and mix that into a longer distance, lots of mountain leg lifting with the Sally McRae app, and when summer hit, I was trying to strengthen my lungs by hitting the speed in the hottest parts of the day. A couple months before the race I stayed on the trails and worked on fast paced hiking. The treadmill had it’s fair share of 15-25% incline mileage at 5 a.m. on weekdays!

I’m throwing nutrition in here because that goes hand in hand with training. Food is very personal and works much differently for everyone. For me, it’s protein, and lots of it. My primary diet in training is leafy greens, nuts, animal protein, and little to no processed foods (microwave popcorn is a food group). Plant based protein powder for hard training days with beet powder (I also use this for racing). Lots and lots and lots of water!! Half your body weight in oz a day is good math. I’ll add here that I practice intermitted fasting 16/8 with a eating window starting at noon-1 and closing at 7-8 p.m. each day. I’ve never been a breakfast eater and fasting is good for you. It reduces inflammation and naturally allows your body to flush out bad stuff. Google it or ask me for more information. I could write a book!

Why RRR?

As I mentioned before, several folks I met out west when running Big Horn raved about this beautiful course. Leaving that race I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful scene, so I guess I had to go see for myself. Also, when I DNF’d (Did not finish) a few mountain race attempts back to back in 2018/19, I found a coach that helped me fill in the gaps in my flatlander training. And coach Josh talked a lot about RRR and even won it a few times. So, I guess It was meant to be.

Let’s Go!

My daughter Emy had a horrible experience with flying a couple of years ago, so we decided to drive to Colorado. We left TH Tuesday, September 12th for a Thursday arrival in Steamboat Springs. My daughter Katlin (Jewel) flew into Denver from Reno on Wednesday and traveled with us from there. My crew was set – Tim, Emily, and Katlin. We got to work on the drive talking about logistics for when to expect me to come through crew spots, what my needs might be, and just really talking through the course. This would be the highest elevation for me over the course of that many miles. And being from sea level, I wasn’t sure what to expect. So, we had to be ready for the worst.

Run Rabbit Run 100-mile map and profile chart.

Packet Pick-Up

We got to Steamboat Springs around 1 p.m. and check in our hotel wasn’t until 4 p.m. so we wandered around the ski town locating the start line and talking to locals. We grabbed lunch at a very local spot Backdoor Grill where we had the best fried pickles ever. Our waiter’s friend had been training for RRR for the past 5 months and he was telling us how hard his training was getting and how he swore he would never train for a 100 again. I let him know that he’d be hooked and this time next week on ultrasignup looking for his next hundo!

Best fried pickles EVER!!

Packet pick-up was at Olympian Hall in Steamboat – drop bag spot/crew spot (51 and 64 miles) – and race debriefing. It was raining off and on, but runners came out for it. After grabbing our race packets and dropping off our drop bags we gathered on the field outside the hall and the RD and his crew came out on the balcony from the second floor to go over all the important details. They also gave away lots of great stuff from the sponsors. This was the first year for the race to be covered live on YouTube, so there were lights and cameras and some interviews with fast people (Hares) going on that made packet pick-up energy on point. I may have had a bit of fan girl going on when I saw Michelle Yates being interviewed. I was also so excited to meet the volunteer coordinator because she has major fun energy, and this is her last year in the position. Well, I didn’t get to meet her at packet pick-up but maybe later?

Hare Interview w/ Michelle Yates

Okay, this is funny (and embarrassing) but I signed up accidentally as a Hare. The race has two categories – Hare and Tortoise. And for this hundo there’s a lot of money for the Hare division to win. But you must be registered as a Hare and fast to win. Tortoises start at 8 a.m. and have 36 hours to finish. Hares start at Noon and have 30 hours to finish. See the difference!? At packet pick-up I was switched to Tortoise thankfully!! But something in me thought…can I finish in 30 hours??

My Hare bib before changing to Tortoise.

Race Day

We stayed at Gravity Haus, which was the race sponsor hotel. The room they gave us was literally next to the side door that opened to the race start. It was unreal!! We exited the room ready to rock and roll at 7:45 a.m. The vibe outside was perfect. It felt very small and personal, yet we were in the middle of a very busy resort town surrounded in a townlike atmosphere of open space restaurants, outdoor activities, specialty boutiques, and a local art festival underway. So much for the crew/pacers/family to do while their runners head straight up the mountain for their adventures. The Gondola near the start line was running for family and friends to ride up and meet runners at the top of the first steep climb.

8 a.m. 355 (tortoise division) runners headed up the ski slope road to ascend to some double track for a tough 4,000 feet to Mount Warner aid station. So right out of the gate we climbed up to over 10,000 feet elevation. This was the first five miles. After clearing that climb, we dipped into a single track, and although still in a tight conga line, I was hanging with others my pace, which felt great. I met Amanda from Golden, CO. This would be her first 100-mile attempt (she finished btw) after pacing her friend at RRR in 2022 for 30 miles. Amanda didn’t know if her runner would make it to her pick-up because she almost dropped. Last year was crappy weather. Amanda found something in her friend that she wanted to experience for herself, so there she was a year later doing the thing. We had a great chat about remote work and the education nonprofit worlds, which we both work in. But she was speedy climbing, so I wished her best and worked through the next few sections very carefully.

It was taking me awhile to get used to running on that type of trail. I kept stubbing my toe and tripping over rocks. I had to get used to my foot placement and it wasn’t coming quickly. I train on dirt trails with a few roots to kick now and then. These trails are littered with all sizes of rocks that I’m just not used to navigating. From Mount Warner (5.4 miles) to Fish Creek Falls (17.7) was descending large boulder rocks. It was mostly hiking for me. It was pretty sketchy, and no way was I going to fall there. I even pulled over to let people pass me so I could take my time. I saw a beautiful waterfall and took that in a sec, but I knew I’d see it again so planned to take more time on the way back. So, yeah - we got to turn around and go up all of that! At Fish Creek Aid I got to see my husband and run a bit with my girls. This aid station was at a park (I think) so there was a nice restroom to break and sit for a minute. Here I noticed I was falling behind on my hydration, so I used my first Mountain Opps hydrate pack – just downed the powder. My husband and kids were appalled (haha!). But I needed it to work quickly!

Back out for more boulder climbing! I had to be even more careful going back because I was now passing alongside everyone behind me on their way out. Which was kind of nice cause runners always say “good job” and “looking good” and someone even said “you’re killing it” which for me is a boost. This would be about a 7-mile section heading to Long Lake. Apparently, the infamous Karl Meltzer is at this station, but I didn’t see him, but I kind of forgot to look. Why? Well, this is the point of the race I started to get very very sleepy. No kidding, mile 24 and I’m contemplating a trail nap. The hard climbing at altitude and being behind on my hydration was starting to kick my ass. At one point I pulled over on the trail and sat on a rock with my head between my legs. A girl passes by and stops to check on me, but I barely had the energy to thank her. Just leave me here to die!!

Somehow, I struggled and made it from Long Lake (rolling dirt roads with more up than down) to Summit aid station where thankfully I had my first drop bag. Folks were sprawled out everywhere fixing feet, adding layers and light for the overnight coming, and fueling up. I totally forgot that my bib number didn’t match my drop bags since I initially had a Hare number. One of the volunteers was trying to help me, but tortoise bag #893 didn’t exist because it was actually Hare bag #124. In my daze I was able to explain this, and we found my bag. I’m sure by the looks of me he was thinking changing from Hare to Tortoise was the best idea I’d ever had!! I really took my time at Summit. We were around 30 miles into the race and already climbed almost 8,000 feet out of the 23,000-race total and a lot of these miles were at over 10,000 feet of elevation. My IT band was starting to feel all of that!

I have this fuel mix that’s my go-to for racing. A combination of plant protein, muscle recovery powder, and beet powder that I take at each drop bag. So I mixed that up, grabbed my IT band brace (more on this later) a jacket, and waist lamp for the overnight and sat for a bit while I let the shake and some aid station food digest. My friend Shad gave me some hydrate and ignite from MTN Ops to try a few weeks before my race. I didn’t have much experience with using Ignite for running, but I used it to replace caffeine a couple of weeks out (so I’m more sensitive to caffeine to use as a tool for racing) from the race and it worked very well for that. I’m a label reader because I stay away from sugar when training and racing. This stuff is loaded with vitamins, amino acids, nootropics, light on the caffeine, and no sugar. I had one in each drop bag (two drop bags that I would pass twice) and was planning to use one at the halfway point around mile 50 and the other when I passed this drop bag again on the way back around mile 80. But this kind of racing is all about trouble shooting and I needed it now! So I added a packet of Ignite to one of my water bottles and set out for Billy’s Rabbit Hole.

We were still hovering around 10,000 feet elevation and the Ignite started working immediately! I couldn’t believe how quickly I turned around and started feeling amazing. I was really worried that I was in over my head with this race when I was already that tired. It was exactly what I needed and all I remember from 30-50 was feeling great and running a lot! I typically have issues with my IT band in mountain races and somewhere in this 20 miles ended up putting the strap around my knee to try waning off the inevitable pain to come.

I made it to Olympian Hall (mile 50 ish) where my crew was ready to assist. This is also a drop bag location for miles 50 and 64. This is also where Tortoises can pick up a pacer. No pacer for me! I’ll be running this whole race solo. From Olympian you go out through “Lane of Pain” and back so you hit this drop bag twice. My husband reported that I picked up some time and was looking closer to a 32 hour finish at this point. My crew got me a new battery for my waist lamp and here I took my first dose of Tylenol. They also had some cheeseburgers, but another thing I was experiencing at this race was stomach issues. I’ve never had issues eating or keeping food down before at a race. I think the altitude was making me sick because I was also nauseous, but at least I had my energy back.  And for the next 20 ish miles I’d be between 6,500-8,000 feet and hopefully that would help. I could really tell with my breathing and nauseous when I was above 10,000 feet. Crew was not allowed in the aid station so runners had enough room to get to their drop bags and recover. I was quick at this stop. Grabbed my bag (I remembered my number!), mixed up my shake and drank that hoping it would stay down. It was around 8 p.m. so it was just starting to get dark out. I left my phone with my crew to charge so I’d have it the rest of the race and for music later on. I knew the next section would be rough, so I grabbed some energy chews from the aid station. They were honey stinger brand and I’d never tried them before. They work!

Headed back out, my crew told me they would see me in about 5 miles on my way back. That didn’t seem right to me, but at this point I wasn’t even looking at my pace or elevation chart anymore and runners math is no good. My husband told me to try pairing up with someone on this route, which is known for bears and mountain lions. There was just a ton of climbing and for what ended up being a 13 miles section. Lane of pain kicks off with a long steep climb where I lost sight of anyone in front or behind me. I climbed for so long alone that I started to think I was off course. I decided to trust myself and continued. Finally, I saw headlamps and then an aid station. I found out that I would pass through that aid station again before going back to Olympian and on my second time I’d get a card to return to Olympian. That was their way of making sure runners passed through twice. So, the section was actually a 4 mile out to an aid station, a 5-mile loop around and back to it, and 4 miles back to Olympian. It was getting chilly and that loop section seemed to take forever. Mental note to grab hand warmers when I was back at my drop bag.

I arrived back to Olympian around 1 a.m. meaning that 13 miles took me around 5 hours to complete. Lane of Pain lives up to its name! I’m really beat up at this point. Back with my crew I changed my headlamp battery, grabbed my charged phone and portable charger, hugs, kisses. I told them to go to bed and I’d see them at the finish line. Back inside the aid station I found my bag and spent some time really thinking about my next steps. When you don’t have a pacer and your crew isn’t standing next to you to help you think, you can forget some crucial steps. I kind of just did a check list in my head of anything and everything I’ve ever needed at a race like this. Got my shake ready, ate some ramen, bacon, and cheese quesadilla from the aid station, drank some coffee, grabbed my last ignite, and headphones for the overnight. There was a legit restroom, so I took some time to clean up and splash some water on my face. Tried not to look in the mirror too much so I wouldn’t start feeling sorry for myself.

On my way out I saw several runners down. A few tucked away along the wall curled up in a ball sleeping. Some sitting hunched over with the death stare. Pacers gearing up to start or continue with their runners. Looking around I noticed folks in longer layers and wondered if I should switch from shorts to long pants. I decided an extra layer on top would be enough, and I remembered to grab my hand warmers. I headed outside and quickly turned back around and decided I needed long pants. This is fun because after 64 miles I got to take my shoes off and dress myself standing on one leg. I threw the pants on over my shorts and while I was at it I went ahead and changed my socks. This decision ended up being a very good one! Heading out of Olympian yet again, I had to go back because I forgot my poles! This ended up being about a half an hour stop.

At the pre race meeting the RD says to really consider if you want to continue from here. And it is where several dropped out of the race (DNF). There is no crew or pacer access after the next aid station and if you do drop you will be waiting hours to get a ride back. Onward. What I recall from here is limited in the overnight. The ignite and coffee woke me up a bit and I started feeling recovered from the Lane of Pain and ready for what was next. I left Olympian and navigated through town where I can’t say enough about how well it was marked and how helpful the volunteers were in the middle of the night. They got us safely across Steamboats main street and heading back toward Dry Lake and Billy’s Rabbit Hole to Summit. We were climbing back over steep boulder sections in the night and it became cold and windy summiting the mountains. We were back over 10,000 feet elevation quickly and I started having breathing problems. The cold air and lack of oxygen was making me short of breath and my lungs started to feel sore. I was coughing up chunky mucus. Remembering my friend Mary having similar issues while racing, I took one of my hand warmers and slipped it in my sports bra to warm my chest. That seemed to help. Trying to navigate over these steep sections at night was interesting. Luckily I was with a group and we helped each other find trail markings which were reflective by way of your headlamp and sometimes way above your head in a shrub on top of the next boulder. There were also cairns and dash marks to mark this section of trail that crossed over large sections of granite. My body felt strong which made it more frustrating that my lungs felt weak. I took several breaks to let my breathing catch up when I needed it and just kept telling myself to make it to daylight where it would warm up and my lungs would feel better. This is also the section my watch died, but I had my portable charger and cord with me so it charged in my vest for a couple of miles. Also, I fell hard in this section. I remember laying there on my back thinking I could just stay there until morning. A fellow runner grabbed me up and the damage seemed minimal.

I made it to Summit Lake around 8 a.m. and at 10,300 feet it was a beautiful sunrise at the top of the mountain. My hands were too numb to bother with my camera so I paused and took in the sweet reward. Mile 80 and back to my drop bag. This would be my last chance to ditch layers so I changed out of my tights and into a fresh pair of socks. I had a change of shoes here, but my Hoka Speedgoats were working great, so I stayed in them. I was really shaky and tired so I sat down with all my stuff and took some time cleaning my feet and changing. I can’t remember what I ate, but I dumped my shake all over a table I was propped against. The aid station took care of my mess and helped me place my drop bag in the “going back home” pile. It was still pretty chilly so I layered my jacket (Patagonia find on Poshmark) over my hydration vest and added two new handwarmers to the mix. At one point in the night I swore I my fingers were frost bitten and with one warmer on my chest I used the other one back and forth between each hand, which was tricky while holding poles.

From Summit to Long Lake it warmed up thankfully. This section hits the highest point on the course at 10,557 feet and the course continues to go up and down at averaging around 10,000 feet until almost the end of the race. There were times in this last 15 miles that I felt I was moving so slow that I’d miss the cut off. My IT band was really hurting on the downs and the course was constant climb and descend here. My mind was starting to go dark and I was thinking of the worst things. My headphones had died and all I had was my self talk. My coughing continued but my lungs didn’t hurt anymore so I took that as a win. I was alone for a lot of these last miles. I used the time to work through the climbs as quickly as I could. All I could do was hike. From Long Lake (89 miles) back to Mount Werner (95.8) felt like dayyys!! All I could do was laugh each time I thought the aid station was around the corner and it ended up being another steep climb and descend. It was starting to warm up and a lot of the last sections of the mountain were exposed. I finally reached Mount Werner (last aid station) around Noon. The next and last section would be a six mile descend off the mountain back to Steamboat Springs. My IT band said oh hell no! I rewarded myself with oreo cookies, coffee, and pickles and headed out.

Oh the pain!! I started off hiking down but figured out a way to trot (not run) with a bit of side leaning to take the pressure off my It band. That worked and settled in using my poles for balance. I ended up chatting with a few runners and it helped take my mind off the pain. One of the gals I’d passed several miles back came flying down the mountain with her pacer. I was so jealous!! Running down is my favorite. We passed a ski lodge and entered a single track for the last mile. That was a little less painful and a little flatter, so I picked up my poles and ran a bit. Finally exiting onto the dirt road, the town got closer and all of a sudden I saw my daughters running toward me. I grabbed Emilys hand and Katlin was filming on her phone, which is a great memory to look back on my side leaning hustle!! We turned into the chute after a dip across a small stream and ran it in together. My designated hugger was the volunteer coordinator! So I did get to meet her. My finish time was 30 hours and 52 minutes. Not a Hare finish, but not far from the Hare cut off. Placed Fourteenth female and Fourth in my AG. I’m really proud of this one, and I’m grateful for a few things especially: My crew, My IT band brace, My hand warmers, My decision to switch to long pants overnight, My new favorite race fuel – Mtn Ops Ignite (and my friend who gifted it to me.), and the ability to explore the world in this way.

Next up, Tunnel Hill (which I said I would never run because it’s really flat and a lot of out and backs and that seems really mind numbing to me, but I want to race one more time with all of the training I put in for RRR) in Viena, IL November 11th.

Kettle Moraine 100

Kettle Moraine 100 is known for selling out fast. I knew this spring would be a heavy lift—starting grad school and adjusting to it with all of my other life roles. But training has to be part of life, and I’m at my best when I have a goal ahead of me. I wanted something tough near the end of spring, but flexible enough that I could ease up on training if needed. This Wisconsin race was the last of the Midwest Slam events I hadn’t run, so I decided it would be my A race—if I could get in.

Registration opened on January 1 at 11 a.m. Central Time. We were driving home from a family trip to Ohio, so I set up registration in the car, ready to hit submit right at 11. I got a message saying I was on the waitlist. The race sold out in less than five minutes. But about 30 minutes later, I got an email from the race director: I was in.

I pulled out my old training plan from Burning River back in 2020 (same distance, similar terrain and time of year) and adapted it to fit my new life schedule. Even though I only took one class, it felt like a full-time job some weeks. I wanted to make sure my family and work didn’t suffer because of this goal. But the class mattered, too. Finding balance was a real challenge. I learned quickly how set in my ways I am. I had to replace my afternoon lounge time with study sessions that often stretched to midnight or later. Weekends became all about what was due Sunday—and many runs had to fit around those deadlines.

Long runs got shorter, but I found creative ways to stay active. Jump squats in the bathroom at work 3-4 times a day. Standing at my desk as long I could while working. Anything to offset missed miles.

I put a 50-mile race on the calendar as a training run for Kettle. It was in southern Indiana, close to home, with about 10,000 feet of climbing—a true test. April 19 was literally the only weekend I had without something due, so we headed to the KT in Borden. Well…I went out too fast, and I think I was doing statistics in my head when I twisted my right ankle. I’d heard people say they’d heard their ankle pop when they twist it for real and this time, I did too. I’ve twisted ankles plenty of times in training and racing and usually bounce back after some walking. Not this time.

I hobbled a few miles and dropped at the 10-mile mark. The next three weeks, my ankle was swollen, bruised, and sore. I could bear weight and flex it, which was painful, but manageable. That gave me hope: maybe I could heal in time to run 100 miles in early June. The KT course looked perfect for a serious training cycle, and I really wish I could’ve finished it. That race is going back on my calendar for 2026. If you’re reading this and want interested in Knobstone 50 hit me up and lets make travel plans for 2026!

I didn’t run for six weeks after that April race. During that time, I was also finishing up race director planning for Hawthorn Half Day (HHD) on May 24 and a hard research project for my grad class. I had plenty on my plate, so I just went with the flow and tried to stay focused on what was in front of me. Having a race to plan ended up being just what my soul needed and I decided to keep Kettle Morraine on my radar.

For two weeks before the hundo, I eased back into running. I stayed on flat ground and built from 3 to 8 miles over four runs, taking rest days in between. I kept up flexibility and strength work, and it seemed to help. But breathing was a different story. After six weeks off, running felt like starting over. Each effort felt like I was breathing through a straw. Even the mental boost from a run was missing. But the energy from HHD kept me going.

We had a family trip to Florida planned the week before the race, and it turned out to be just what I needed. It was hot and humid, and my ankle felt better than ever. I pushed my pace to help regain breathing efficiency and got in a few strong runs. After we returned, I did a 14-mile run. Then it was race week. I did a few 5-milers, still on flat surfaces. I wasn’t sure how my body would respond on trail, but I was ready to try.

Friday around noon, I drove to Wisconsin solo—no pacer, no crew. Just my “Majel’s Mojo” playlist, an obligatory gallon jug of water to consume, and miles between myself and anything pulling at me. As I got closer, the countryside opened up. I could tell this would be a rugged race, as it's on the Ice Age Trail. I had something in me for this race that I hadn’t felt for awhile.

I arrived at packet pickup around 6 and set up my drop bags: one at Hwy 12 (miles 77 & 86), one at McMillers (mile 44), and one at Nordic (start/100K/finish). I skipped Hwy 67 (miles 27 & 36), thinking I wouldn’t need anything before mile 44. More on that later. Hint hint: I was wrong.

It didn’t rain like the forecast called, but it got hot. A tricky breeze made it feel cooler than it was, so I underestimated my electrolyte needs. I didn’t get real fuel until mile 44. The aid stations were well-stocked, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more than I could take in at the stations. I could’ve carried some, but I have a weird thing about putting electrolyte fluid in my bottles. I dry scoop the powder (don’t try this for the first time during a race!) and chase it with water. Same for instant coffee grounds. IYKYK. I wish I’d dropped fuel at Hwy 67. That cost me some suffering with low energy. Especially since my lungs were working harder than normal undertrained.

The first 20 miles were fun. I was conservative and used it to test my body. I ran slower than my usual easy pace. The group energy was exciting. Early spring and summer races always feel electric—it’s usually someone’s first race after a long winter, and the stoke is high.

I met runners from Canada to California and closer to home. One guy said he’d gone to a computer science camp at Rose-Hulman in 1976. Every race, I seem to meet someone connected to Rose.

The 20-40 mile stretch heated up. The meadow sections were long, exposed, and narrow with thin, uneven paths that required total focus. I usually pushed through those sections to get out of the sun, but had to be super careful with my footing. My ankle was not at 100% and TBH I never saw a doctor to know how bad it was when I sprained it. The aid stations on the front and end of the meadow had ice cold buckets of water for head dipping. More than the best feeling ever!!

The 40-60 mile stretch brought evening. The temps dropped as we looped back toward the start. The terrain was hilly with loose dirt, rock, and sand. By mile 64, I was wrecked. The climbing taxed my quads and spiked my heart rate to levels I’m not used to working through. I rarely watch my heart rate since I know my body pretty well in that regard. But I was easily pushing 160 bpm. Rolling into the start/finish (mile 64ish) is a point where you can drop to the 100K, get a hot meal, sleep in your car, and still earn a buckle. It’s not a choice I wanted to have.

I told myself to drop. I was lucky to make it that far with my ankle. A full day of labored breathing had worn me down. My fitness wasn’t there. That might sound irresponsible, but I’ve been racing for 25 years and running ultras for 12. I had a solid base. I grabbed my drop bag and changed into dry clothes because the Wisconsin night was cooling off, and I was soaked. My feet hurt. I sat in the bed of my car way too long thinking about what I would need to do to finish. The longer I sat in the car, the harder it became to get back out. This would have been a good point in time to have crew.

I called Tim. He told me to try a little more if I could, and reminded me I’d be mad at myself if I didn’t. Of course I knew that, but hearing it out loud helped. That inner voice pushing me to quit was really loud.

He was right. I squeezed my swollen feet back into my dirt-caked Hokas, grabbed my hiking poles, and headed back to the start/finish. I checked out the 100K buckle for inspiration. Almost sold. But then I chatted with the RD, who said I should at least hike out to the Bluff aid station, "it’s fun, great food." I know I was tired, but it made sense to me. So off I went.

Once I hit the trail again, it felt good. Peaceful (except for the bullfrogs), moonlit, and calm. I almost cried. Maybe I was just really, really tired. But this—the quiet nighttime section—is my favorite part of racing and I almost missed it.

The next 15 miles were different from the earlier out-and-back. We repeated the first 5 miles, then turned for a new 15-mile stretch: lots of climbing out, lots of rocky descents coming back. Normally, singletrack in the woods is my favorite part. This time, it felt like a game of "did I do enough ankle mobility not to snap something." I was glad I grabbed my poles for the night section. They saved me more than once!

That section took all night. Since it was an out-and-back, I kept moving aside for passing runners. Same in the earlier miles. And with other race distances on the course, fresh runners were flying by when I was already 70 plus miles in. I couldn’t decide if it was more humbling, demoralizing, or entertaining to be passed so much!

Popping out of the single track briefly we hit the amazing Hwy 12 aid station. The volunteers—especially the women there—took care of me and told me beautiful lies: "You look great. You’re so strong." And sometimes in life, you just have to believe the lie.

Eventually, we left the woods and entered the hills for the final 8 miles. The last 5 felt eternal. (I know I say that about every section.) The climbs were brutal. I could still run in patches, so I kept reminding myself: run now, finish sooner.

The final 3 miles were exposed meadows with rolling hills. I saw a woman who ran Hawthorn Half Day. She remembered me and said they’d been cheering for me. It felt so nice at the end of 100 miles to feel community. Her husband, Terrence, also an HHD runner, was waiting at the finish. That gave me a huge boost to push. My final mile might’ve been my fastest of the entire second half.

I crossed the finish line in 26:26:54.

To finish after an ankle injury, six weeks off, and just two weeks of easy running? Wild. Our bodies are amazing. And the mind is even more so. I ran the whole race without headphones or electronic distractions (aside from a couple wake-me-up texts). I wanted to be fully focused. And I was.

The same group of volunteers that pushed me back out at the 100k mark, including the RD, was still at the finish line when I crossed over. When the RD saw me, we both pointed at each other and said, "You/I did it!" We both knew I wasn’t going to drop at the Bluff aid station. We both knew once I pushed out into the darkness that the race would become what I came for.

Sometimes the hardest part is trusting ourselves. We’re surrounded by noise every day, but deep down, we already hold the answers we’re looking for. That’s what this race reminded me - to trust the path I’ve been given. Maybe the real question, whether in racing or in life, is not “should I try” but “what will I miss if I do not”?

Get this race on your calendar—if you can get in. Registration opens Jan. 1, 2026.

Kettle Moraine 100
26:26:54, LaGrange, Wisconsin
100-Mile Buckle #12

Blog Post Title Three

It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

Blog Post Title Four

It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.