Badger 100 DNF

Years of training and hard work have led to this point. There are 2 minutes left before the start. I quickly give my amazing crew chief and BFF a giant hug, take a selfie, and toe the starting line. The gun fires... and we're off!

 Before going into what happened, there were a lot of preambles that led up to this point. This race almost didn't happen, as there were a lot of obstacles that took place. I was burned out after dropping out of the Locomotion 24-hour event. I dropped at the 12-hour mark after running 100k. I was both happy and disappointed with my performance. I had 2 months to get ready for this and my tank was empty. I was battling massive depression and a mental breakdown. I spent that time doing a lot of medium runs of 15-20 miles, but not a lot of long runs. I remained optimistic as I spent the majority of my time working on mental health and overall well-being. 

I was getting really excited about the race. It's my 1st attempt at 100 miles. I'm hoping to go sub 24, but any finish is a good one. I am looking forward to visiting and spending time with my family during my birthday, which is a rare occasion since I moved to Chattanooga. It's difficult to make the trip, with 750 miles separating us. I was gutted a couple weeks prior to the race when my family told me they would be out of town the weekend of my race and birthday. I sacrificed a lot to make this weekend and really wanted to spend time with them. It really hurt me. I considered abandoning the trip altogether, but thankfully I regained my senses and focused on the race. 

Preparing for the race itself is a scramble. Some of the pacers and crew I was hoping would support me, had to drop out. I really wanted a pacer to help push through the mental fatigue and the wall that occurs in a 100-mile race. I've been able to muscle through and complete 50-mile races, but it's a struggle to do that and go beyond. Physically I am well prepared, constantly putting in high volume and intense weeks. Mentally, it's a struggle to stay relaxed and present at the moment. I constantly try to distract myself and focus on other things remaining undisciplined. 

Two days before. I pack everything up for the race and have a smooth trip up to Wisconsin and spend the night with my awesome friends who recently got married. I spend the day before running errands, dropping off gear to my crew, and heading over to packet pickup and set up camp for the night. It was relaxing camping amongst the other runners. The morning was filled with a crescendo of alarms everyone had set. I get my gear together and a small bag of items to get to my crew after prepping and hop onto the bus. The drive is relaxing with the sunrise and quickly confer with Liz to get organized before the start.

 

The start goes off smoothly. The weather is perfect with the start being in the low 60s with a calm breeze. I take everything nice and easy going at a smooth 9-minute pace on a flat rail trail. This course is flat and non-technical which makes it easy and more difficult lol. I reach the 1st aid station comfortably, finding a groove towards the front with several other strong runners. The course was lengthened due to a damaged bridge, so there's an extra road section with blacktop. It's hilly but navigable. I stay steady through the countryside and the miles are ticking off quickly. 

Before I know it, I am at the mile 33 aid station in Monroe. As I enter, I see the leader Taggart leaving. He's a monster going for the course and world record and is nearly 10 miles ahead of me. I let him do his thing and head into the aid station. My friend Raleigh is there and I'm starting to feel the temperature warm up and the muscles start to tighten up. I take a couple minutes to work on my calves and head out. 

I reach the turnaround spot at Dot's Tavern at mile 37 and I'm feeling pretty good. I grab my coaster to prove that I made it all the way there and head back to the next aid station. I felt pretty good at mile 40, but I started to feel tight, so I worked a bit on my calves. I feel really loose afterward and begin to pass some nearby runners and reach the halfway point in the top 5. I make a clothing change and continue along as the heat rises. This section will be difficult with the hot blacktop in the blazing sun coming in the mid to late afternoon. 

Miles 51 to 55 go smoothly and feel good going into the 8-mile stretch of no aid on blacktop. I am handling the road hills very well and get all the way up to 3rd and the leading male at one point. At mile 58 I am going through this neighborhood and I hear a dog bark at me. I turned around and there are 4 dogs sprinting down the road at me at full speed. Their owner is way behind these uncontained and unleashed dogs, being incredibly negligent. These aren't friendly dogs either, as 2 of them are trying to bite my ankles. So another runner and I pick up the pace and got chased for about 1/4 mile down the road up and down 2 hills before the dogs relented. 

It spiked my anxiety and took a toll me on as the heat rising from the blacktop quickly dehydrated me. I struggled through the last 4 miles to the aid station. I take a little extra time and drink some extra fluid as my legs are beginning to feel tight and I was slightly light-headed. After about 10 minutes, I recollect myself and continue out there. My goal is to reach Orangeville at mile 75 in 14 hours or so and get ready for the last 33 miles in the dark. 

I feel pretty good starting through this 12-mile section with 1 unmanned aid station. I'm starting to feel tired and exhausted as I approached the unmanned aid station. There is no water, food, or ice available! I had only a couple sips of fluid left on me and 6 miles to go. I look around for a minute or so and nobody is near me. So I carefully collect myself and continue. I decide that I need to drastically slow the pace down to hang on and get through. 

About a 1/2 mile down the road, I feel an unrelenting knot in the back of my right calf and I seize up. Seconds later, my left calf seizes up as well and I fall straight down. I am unable to get back up at the moment so I begin to crawl out of the way. My phone is dead, so I cannot get a hold of anyone. One runner passes me and says he's going to call 911. I tell him no need to call yet. I tell him to continue going. 2 runners coming from the other direction kindly stop and help me work out some of the cramping going on. It helps a little bit and I am able to stand back up and slowly begin walking again. I go down again about another 1/2 mile down the road. I work on the cramps and walk for a few more minutes. This process continues until I reach my friend John. He is pacing someone else but recognizes I'm in trouble and decides to help me out. 

We catch up and talk the 3 miles in and my crew gets him a ride back to his runner. I am struggling mightily, drinking as many fluids as I can. I am not that coherent, mentally and physically recovering. Psychologically I'm done, but desperately trying to find the strength to continue. Liz brings out a piece of birthday cake with this musical candle that endlessly plays Happy Birthday! I am laughing and smiling, but physically I'm not improving. 

Every step hurt tremendously. I spent a total of 2 hours at the aid station before deciding to bow out. It was the toughest decision I had to make. I still had 20 hours to finish 33 miles. It was something I couldn't get out of. I felt like I was seriously risking an injury and did not feel safe out there without a pacer. The decision was so tough, but I could not come up with another alternative. 

I eventually loaded up all my gear and got some rest. I felt mentally refreshed, but physically I was not ready for that level of pain and torture. I felt disappointed in the result but overall happy with my physical performance. My mental and psychological game needs a lot of work. I am my best friend and my worst enemy in my facets of life.