Nike Told Me To: October 2022

A different me might have been anxious coming to a 100-mile run after a DNF. But I was only excited and confident. After all, running a race with only 6,000 feet of gain in mild fall weather ought to be much easier than climbing 20,000 feet in the mountains on a hot day.

My A goal was to finish in 22 hours, setting a 100-mile PR (I ran a 100 on pavement in 22:22 back in 2016); my B goal was to finish in 24 hours, being my first sub-24 trail 100; and my C goal was just to finish. If everything went to hell, I'd just crawl across the finish line. After all, the whole reason I was here was to get a Western States qualifier. It hadn't been the best of years: DNS at Laurel Highlands due to an injury, DNF at Pine to Palm... But I'd finish this one. I was confident and ready.

In ultrarunning, a little confidence goes a long way, and so my morning at Indiana Trail 100 started out well. I was enduringly grateful that it continued that way. All along, my only real let-down was falling off my 22-hour pace at mile 60 or so, slowing down a bit. But I was determined to dig deep and run my best and try to hit my next target: a sub-24 finish.

The story is a little bit boring. Everything went well, really, as far as ultras go. I jogged happily for hours down the woodland path with a pouch full of candy like a fairytale child. My legs started feeling heavy around mile 30. For a little while I was worried that four weeks' recovery wasn't enough since my last race. Soon I had a slight twinge in my left IT band. By mile 50, my legs were tired, but I could still run if I focused. I slowed a bit but kept going. By mile 75, my right Achilles tendon started hurting, but not enough to stop me. In the end, miles 75–100 were faster than miles 50–75. I passed a handful of people in the final 20 miles. I ran with goblin form but also determination.

I crossed the finish line at 23:56, a few minutes ahead of the 24-hour mark. I was stunned. "Are you okay?" the race director asked me. "Yeah," I said. "I just never did that before." I almost teared up.

I was proud of myself for pushing so consistently, and not to mention for getting everything else right that day: moving through aid stations quickly, navigating my drop bag like a Nascar pit crew, remembering to tell my mom I was happy to see her when I did. I had just the right amount of clothing, and I even had spare batteries for my lights.

The race was fantastic, and fantastically managed. I'd recommend it, particularly as a first 100 for anyone. The 25-mile loops were beautiful and the trail was smooth sailing—beautifully maintained. The aid stations were well-placed (about every 4 miles) and well-stocked, and the volunteers were so helpful. My only source of stress, if you can call it that, was trying to find a patch of cell signal to send my sister a Snap so we wouldn't lose our streak. And once I managed that, the rest of the day was a breeze.

I finished 37th of 130 finishers. I'm writing this a week after finishing, and I feel good. My right Achilles is still a little swollen, but I was able to go for an easy recovery run yesterday and today. Already dreaming of the next one.

Things that worked for me:

Trail Toes cream – no blisters! I applied it once at the start and then when I changed socks at mile 50.
Xoskin socks – toe socks!
Naked belt – This was my first race with this belt, and I loved it. Tons of space to hold gummy bears and M&Ms.