All For One... One hundred miles that is...

They drove up early on Friday afternoon, to stake out the perfect campsite. The weather was perfect. For the first time in 5 years, it was less than 100 degrees for this weekend in October. Mid 80s actually. Felt perfect and would make for an epic weekend of running. She'd never been so excited or nervous, at least not in a very long time. Maybe not since Ironman a year ago? The energy was pulsing through her veins and she needed to burn it off on the trail before dinner. DMB was with her, and they enjoyed a beautiful run on the Scenic Trail followed by dinner catered by PF Chang's for the runners and volunteers. They observed the calmness which seemed to descend over McDowell Mountain Park. Nothing like the scene of a triathlon, they thought. After dinner they were joined by the rest of the crew: KS, NS, TG, and AG. All prepared to camp out and be at his beck and call for 30+ hours. All with one goal. Get him through 100 miles. On foot.

Javelina Jundred, a 100 mile foot race, takes place on the weekend in October closest to the full moon. It happened to be last weekend and the moon was indeed full, and shone like a spotlight into the tent. Not that she could sleep anyway. Too nervous. Too scared. Too excited. This was unlike anything she had participated in, and she had no idea what to expect. When the alarm went off at 4:30 she had already been awake for hours. They quickly got dressed in warm clothes and headed to the "transition area" where the start line was set up and the aid station which would serve the athletes after each of the 7 loops on Pemberton Trail. Their shift started at 5 am. With the race start at 6 am, they had minimal responsibilities until about 8 am when the front runners would be passing through after the first loop. They took time to mingle and watch everyone, many in costume, chatting and gearing up for a long day.

He looked ready. He was quiet at first, but as he settled into the environment it was clear he was in his element. He was a social butterfly, and his costume (with fairy wings) seemed appropriate. He fit in well amongst the ultrarunners and they almost didn't recognize him. This friend who was a triathlete turned distance runner. He didn't possess the typical "Tri-Panic Disorder" that afflicts most in our group. He was calm. He knew what lay ahead of him and he was ready to tackle it, one mile at a time.

His crew, on the other hand, didn't know what to expect. Would he be overcome by fatigue and demand to quit? Would he want to nap? Would he complain? Would he become ill and be plagued by vomiting, dehydration or worse on the trail? Would he stop running? Only time would answer their questions. They knew with conviction their only task: keep him moving forward. Relentless forward progress.

Loop one came and went, he was smiling and took minimal time in transition to grab some food and was quickly on his way back out. They continued their duties at the aid station, refilling bottles and hydration packs. Offering food, electrolytes, soda. Before long he was cruising through at the end of loop two, continuing to look strong and right on pace. They wondered, when will this end? When will the wheels come off? At this point it was nearing 1 pm and their shift at the aid station was coming to an end. They grabbed a sandwich and headed back to camp to rest, knowing it would be a long night on the trail. They made sure they were back in transition ready to assist with a shoe change and blister management after loop 3. Loop four was tackled in the dusk and setting sun. From camp, the sunset was gorgeous and she wondered if he was enjoying it on the trail or if he was immune to it, focused solely on forward motion.

Shortly after sunset KS, NS and DMB headed to bed, trying to get a few hours of sleep before their turn pacing. She had the first shift and knew if she laid down now, she would be sleepy when her shift started. AG and TG offered to sit by the fire and keep her company as they watched the race continue to unfold. Now it was dark, and people were starting to drop out in larger numbers, not wanting to run though the night alone. It was a mental game, she was sure. He came cruising in right on schedule and looked great. He swung by the medical tent to have the blister lanced and taped. She stood nervously by with her pack on, ready to run. He said his IT band was giving him problems and they'd be doing a lot of power walking. OK by me, she said. They headed out into the darkness of the trail with headlamps shining.

It was quiet. His power walk was a fast pace- roughly 17-18 minutes per mile. She worked up a sweat within a mile and had to start peeling off layers. They talked a little but mostly he was quiet. She didn't want to annoy him with chatter so she let him set the tone, trying to keep the conversation light. She had expected him to feel worse, to need prodding. That's what she's good at. Now she was feeling useless. He didn't need her. He apologized that she wasn't getting to run. She tried to assure him that she didn't come here to run. She came to be with him and help him reach his goal. They continued on in the darkness.

Without warning, he took off running. Fast. She tried to keep pace but he kept pulling farther and farther away. Great, she thought, if he keeps this up I'm going to have to phone ahead to KS and tell her to get out there to meet him for the next loop. She was embarrassed. At mile 70 of the race, she had been dropped by her runner. And she only had 8 miles on her legs! She was flying by people in hot pursuit of him, to no avail. Soon enough, he slowed to a walk again and she caught up with him. Dude, do you realize you just dropped a 7:30 mile?, she asked him. He thought he was running a 10 minute pace. You don't need me, she said, I hope I'm not annoying you. He said he was glad she was there, that he didn't want to run all night alone. She smiled. Now she was going to have to pay attention and be ready when he felt like running.

Just before the second aid station, they started on the gradual descent which would take them across the last 10k of the loop. Every now and then he would start running, a nice easy pace. When he was serious, she saw him put his ear buds in, that's when she knew she better hang on for the ride. Luckily her legs were warmed up now, and she could keep up with him when he decided to drop the hammer. In between, they would walk. No longer a power walk, but continued forward motion. They talked a little, but mostly listened to their breathing and footfalls. He said his feet were starting to hurt a little. A little?, she thought. She assured him that 75 miles into a run it was probably normal. She didn't want him to dwell on the discomfort so she changed the subject.

With a mile to go, she texted KS to be ready to run. They ran into transition and he sat down long enough to refill his hydration pack and take in a few calories. She assured the next pacer that he was doing well and was running strong. Her lap was 4:05. It was 1 am. She was exhausted, having been awake for almost 24 hours. She wanted to keep running with him but knew it wouldn't be fair. Everyone wanted a turn. She never felt needed, useful. Where did he get this positive, zen attitude?, she wondered. She wanted to watch him run, clearly in his element. Walking back to the campsite she smiled at things they had talked about on the trail. He had been completely coherent, but he struggled to find words and his speech was the slightest bit slurred. He stumbled a few times over rocks, but then again, so had she. She worried about him, but not whether or not he was going to make it. Without changing from her running clothes, she zipped into her sleeping bag and feel into a deep sleep.

Two hours later, she was awake again and looking at the clock. 3 am. DMB would be getting up at 4 to eat and get ready for her turn pacing. She tried to sleep but her mind wandered to the trail. It was dark. Are they running? Power walking? Is he still feeling as strong? What are they talking about? Where are they? Is everything OK? NS was getting text message updates from the trail, and KS was predicting a five am transition. She jumped out of bed. She wanted to be there, to help out. AG made coffee and she made a PB & J sandwich for breakfast. They walked down to the transition area and watched as runners continued to come through. By now, most of the ones that were going to drop out had already done so. There would be more that didn't make the time cutoffs. But they were impressed with the positive attitudes that everyone exuded. It was truly an amazing thing to witness.

5 am came and went. And slowly the sky began to lighten as the clock ticked closer and closer to 6 am. DMB would pace, and TG, who had been crewing and volunteering for 24 hours wanted some time on the trail so she planned to head out with them for the final 9 miles. They watched the trail and soon they saw the pink tutu and fairy wings. He was running and still looking strong despite a slow 6th loop. His feet were hurting more. He had stopped to stretch and rub his feet a few times. With 92 miles done, he had just a few hours left. Months and months of preparation led to this moment. This one night. These few short hours. They headed off down the trail, with the sun rising to their left casting a beautiful glow on the mountains to the right.

With nothing left but a few hours to kill, they tore down camp. They collapsed their crew headquarters and carried all of his belongings back to the van. They packed up their bags and took down the tents. She anxiously watched the clock. She was excited. He had done it. He set this goal months ago, and put the hours into training and preparation. She had never seen him so calm, and mentally tough. They walked out to the last road crossing, where they would meet him to run the last 1/4 mile to the finish as a team. He had done all the work. They were just there to make sure he stayed on track and had everything he needed. With minutes to go before 9 am, they saw the three running over the last few rolling hills. DMB in the lead, and TG pulling up the rear, they kept him safely in the middle. She snapped photos and cheered and as they came cruising by, they let him take the lead and the six of them followed him the last few steps over the course.

He was in a zone, exhausted, fatigued. He had given everything he had, and left it all out on the trail. There were cheers from the crew. We're so proud of you, they told him. She had tears streaming down her cheeks. Never before had she witnessed such pure determination and perseverance. This was different. This was grit, and a kind of mental toughness that surpassed anything that had ever been required of her. To run and walk for nearly 27 hours, without stopping. Without complaining. Alone. She was amazed. She never doubted that he could do it, but she hadn't believed he would do it with such grace. She waited her turn to hug him, and tell him how proud she was of him. It would be 24 hours before she would stop feeling like crying every time she thought about his accomplishment.

They went to breakfast to celebrate and then he collapsed into the back of the van for the drive home. She worried that he would fall asleep and not drink enough water. She worried that he wouldn't feel like eating and his muscles would cramp. She wanted to protect him. To help him. But he didn't need her. He was successful. She would remember that the next time she set a goal. She knew what it looked like, now, to give that kind of effort. She wanted to feel that kind of exhilaration and pride. She will taste victory again. But this one was his.