2020 Yeti 100 by Jason Lecuyer
After completing my biggest training block of the cycle I’ve entered in a deep realm of reflection {actually entered this realm around mile 32 of 55}. For the last 5 months I’ve been training for the Yeti 100 in Damascus Va. Like most people I entered 2020 with goals, with ideas, with visions of how this would all play out. My plan was simple, do what I’ve always done, train myself the best way I know how, which in turn would be a half ass commitment to a half written training plan, and continue to over commit myself to the fullest, leaving me no choice but to bullshit my way through a 100 miler. I’ve half ass trained and completed half and full marathons, 50k’s, 40 miler, 50 miler in the last few years, so why would this be any different? The plan was simple, while working two jobs, (one of which has my busiest season during the summer), coaching my sons travel baseball team, living my life, squeeze some progressively longer training runs in where I could. Sign up for a bunch of 50k’s, at least one 50 miler and 100k and boom……100 miler ready.
My training was going to start with a late March race in NJ, a two-day 12 hour race and see if I could feel good after doing at least 40 miles over the two 6 hour events. Use that as a baseline, and then build a quasi-training schedule off that. You see, my second job is in the fitness arena, coaching HR Based, HiiT classes. So I have a small understanding of fitness and would utilize these classes as the foundation of my training while mixing in some high peaks and long runs.
Then….. March 20th NYS on Pause. The state shut down, all non-essential businesses shut down, schools closed, gyms closed, life changed. Not a single person saw the scope of what NY on Pause would mean, there was no playbook, it was adapt and survive. With schools closed, gyms closed, sports seasons canceled, the once missing resource of time, was now copious.
Personally I was thinking what do I do with all of this time? How do I train, where can I go. The world suddenly became full of unknowns. I started doing more research on endurance athletes, endurance events and during this some self-reflection. The million dollar question…..”why”? What was my why? I had no idea.
I ran my first marathon in 2015 (NYC), I fell in love with this new distance, the grit and grind to finish, the atmosphere of the big city event, every single part of it. Then in January 2016, I ran my first ultra. A surprise birthday road trip to see a friend, a planned winter trail half marathon, one decision in that race would change the scope of who I am, it would set my soul on fire. And now I’ve official reached the cliché bullshit part of the “live my best life” rah rah, whatever. In seriousness a small challenge from Murph to stay left and run the 50k and forgo the half marathon would alter my mindset. Who the fuck was I? What was I thinking? It was balls cold in Mountainside NJ in January and on a whim I would just jump into a 50k. And there it was 7+ hours later and we crossed that finish line. I fell in love with the distance, with the culture, with the day. For that time on the trails, I was able to just enjoy life, enjoy the trails, fight though the emotions. From that day on I knew where I belonged.
I mentally was becoming concerned with how to handle the time, how would I handle the training? I started researching coaches and came across MPF. A local trail badass had hired Elizabeth as a coach, and had seen success in her running journey, including winning the Escarpment trail race. So I reached out to Elizabeth. We set up a time to chat and connected. It was that phone call that made me feel she was the right choice for me. That phone call felt as much as me interviewing her as her interviewing me. She was personable, in-depth on questions she was asking, she was a badass and her life experiences and resume spoke to that. Her training and coaching philosophy hit home with me. It was not about just volume, it was about cross training, it was about getting to the start line healthy first and foremost. She was the one for me (Insert 90’s romcom music).
We started off slow and easy, almost like the first month was a test run for both of us. This was new to me to commit to a schedule and stick to it. I’m the type of person who hates having plans, I would much prefer to start my day with nothing and let it fill organically based on how I feel. But like any relationship we (I) progressed, I grew to learn the why behind the schedule and the way it was laid out. How to communicate freely about how I was feeling, mentally and physically. The days turned to weeks, weeks into months, each training block building off the last.
There are little things Elizabeth would say (purposely or not) that would stick with me and drive me. One in particular was a choice I made to skip a run because it was cold and raining, I was being soft, I knew it, she knew it. She simply relied, “Would you skip your race if it was cold and rainy?”. Haven’t skipped a workout for weather since. That simple yet effective comment has stayed with me through all of this. It was less about the workout, more about the mindset.
As the training blocks grew, so did my mental toughness. There is something different about running a 50k training run self-supported when any other year this would have been a planned race used as a training run. It forces you to dig deep inside yourself, to drive yourself.
As we moved into the reopening phases over the last few weeks, glimpses of normalcy have come to the forefront. In July the Cayuga Trails 50K was given the green light to proceed and Elizabeth and I both agreed it would be great to get back into and organized event. Many kudos to Ian the RD and the RNR team of volunteers he had to put on a COVID safe event. The course was heavily modified, not in any way to benefit runners, which made for an extra exciting day. On race day there was one central aid station at the start/finish, and limited aid about every 5 miles. You would pass the start finish at mile 10 and 25. With just over 5,700 ft of gain on the course it was an amazing day to be back with the tribe. To be back with the people who just get it. Who just understand who and why we are. Covid normalcy.
Elizabeth has found a way to keep me challenged and entertained (strange word choice) over the last 5 months, from climbing high peaks, to 400 mile bike adventures, it has been about the journey. Preparing my mind as much as my body for what the future holds.
This past Saturday was the longest training run I will see. It was a self-supported journey to a new distance PR of 55 miles. It was the first time I have gone into a new domain of distance with confidence. With actual goals for the run. Yes the goal is always to complete, but the deeper goals were to learn about my mind and body, remember what worked and didn’t. Remember the feelings and use them. It was 55 miles of emotions, highs and lows.
This stoppage of the world was the only way I would change my mindset, change who I am. It was the only way I could have grown. The training has been a personal journey for me. Not many outside of my circle know about Yeti 100 or the time and sacrifices that have gone into getting to where I am. My journey has not been broadcast over social media, has not been used for the likes and accolades. My journey has been for me. I have become more focused than I ever have. More committed than I could have ever been. I have learned about myself and what I need. Without this stoppage of the world, and of our fast paced always on the go lifestyle……… Who knows? Training during this pandemic was the only way I would train.
Yeti 100 - 100 miles, 25.5 hours
24 hours later, one full day removed from one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It’s so easy to say after each accomplishment in our lives that this is memorable, sometimes we use that term too loosely, but the last 7 months right though the finish have become ingrained in my soul.
Still trying to wrap my head around what happened, about what I did, about what we did. You see this wasn’t just me, there are so many people who were a critical part of my journey over the last 7 months. Everyone has sacrificed something to be a part of this. Everyone has selflessly opened themselves up to me. Just thinking about that is so much to process, I think its worth revisiting later on. For now, I want to recap the race itself.
Morning of the YETI 100 (Michelle)
I got up at 3:45am, Jay was already up and packing bags, eating breakfast, etc. He seemed to be hurried and scattered. Our plan was to leave at 4:15 since it was a 30 min drive to the start. Jay was running a few minutes behind and we headed out about 4:20. We opened the door to pouring rain and wind. Great. I felt terrible for him, because despite all of his planning and preparation, we had no control over this part. I pulled the car up and we took off. It was dark and rainy on the steep, windy roads. I was very nervous and driving cautiously. Jay was very anxious to get there and when he noticed our GPS arrival time went from 4:49 to 4:51, reminded me of the 55mph speed limit. (Umm, no thanks!) As I was driving down the hill, he was reciting last minute things he needed me to do, including bring a second rain jacket back to the house so Patti & Kim had a fresh one for him at mile 7. We pulled up to the start parking area, it was raining and pitch black and he hopped out and took off.
I watched him as far as I could see and then decided it was time to venture back to the house to get the rain jacket to Patti & Kim. I started to load the directions on my phone, only to realize I never downloaded the maps, and since I had no service, I was on my own. I was nervous but started driving because I didn’t want to miss the girls. I did my best navigating to the house based off memory from the previous afternoon and arrived there at 5:30 to discover Patti & Kim had already left to head out to the mile 7 meeting location. I panicked momentarily knowing that I had stuff that Jay was going to need from them. The road to Taylor Valley meeting point was a steep, windy and in some spots single lane dirt road. I kept reminding myself Jay always comes through for me, I have to figure this out and get this stuff to him. I pulled into a parking lot and was ecstatic when I saw Pattys car! It was great to see Jay and MC at that location, Jay was in great spirits despite the rain and was feeling great. He didn’t even need the rain jacket I just risked my life to bring…
Next, We were heading down to the Caboose to set up the crew station. Matt, Carl, Bill, Xxena and I loaded up the trucks to head out. We arrived and had some disagreements on where the best location would be to set up. Matt headed out to check for Jay. We had nothing ready and nothing unloaded. And he was here. I was so worried that this was going to completely derail him. Carl and I started running bins to the tent and trying to grab things he would need. Then he asked for the food I had prepped the previous night… We all thought someone else had grabbed that cooler and we had none of it. Jay just chuckled and said “I expected this, a solid D performance, Do better.” Luckily we had everything else and he was able to change into some dry socks and shirt and some snacks. Off he went, with a “see ya soon & I will be hungry!”
Morning of the YETI 100 (Patti)
First things first, Kim and I were given the task of crewing Jason and Mary Claire at miles seven and twenty-one. These were the first two crew-supported aid stations of the race. Obviously, we felt the pressure to get this right! So, the night before the race I experienced the typical race-night “sleep” which was mostly tossing and turning. As soon as I started dozing off, I’d dream of oversleeping or forgetting some critical piece of equipment or fuel. I even had a nightmare that we couldn’t find the crew station and missed our runners. Ack!
Kim and I had our alarms set for 4:30AM. As soon as the alarms went off, we sat up immediately and without hesitation started getting ready. Clearly, we both shared the same concerns. We dressed and began packing the food we were asked to take with us. Kim cooked pancakes, vegan sausage and bacon. I vaguely remembered there being talk about breakfast burritos. So, I found some tortillas, threw down some shredded cheese and decided to add potatoes. I took inventory of all the fuel we were providing and figured this would be a complimentary combination. I popped them in the microwave and packaged them in tin foil.
In a moment of panic, I asked Kim if she knew how far away the crew station was from the house. She said Jay told her 17 minutes. Knowing Jay and his limited understanding of geography and travel time, we decided to double check. Thankfully, Google Maps confirmed the parking area was only 16 minutes away. Exhale.
While we prepped, we heard the rain falling steadily outside. We reluctantly walked out of the house to load up the car and were pleasantly surprised to find it was only a light rain. Kim took the wheel and started driving to the crew aid station. It was so dark, we questioned where the driveway was! She handled the darkness and winding dirt roads like a pro. It was a challenge to navigate and several times we held our breath as we made sharp turns and drove over a tiny, wooden bridge.
We were just about to arrive at the aid station, when a race volunteer stopped us and told us that the parking lot was already full. She said we should drive to another parking lot to provide aid. According to her, that lot was about a mile and a half away. Since it was drizzling and we had zero sense of where we were going, I asked the volunteer if she wanted a ride to the new location. She accepted and jumped into the backseat. We drove about a quarter of a mile when she asked us to stop so she could direct other oncoming cars to the new location. Then she rushed back to the car and told us, “it’s right here!” and pointed to a parking area behind her. Had we not offered to give her a ride I fear our nightmares would have come to fruition!
Kim and I parked the car with time to spare. Then, the rain picked up. We got out and stood under my trunk to hide from the rain as much as we could. We prepped the items we wanted to have ready for Jason and Mary Claire. Then, out of nowhere, Michelle showed up right next to us! “Hey guys,” she said in the most nonchalant way. Kim and I shrieked, “where did you come from?!” She told us she dropped Jay off at the starting line and then realized she didn’t have directions back to the house. She never downloaded the maps offline and obviously didn’t have service in the mountains. She literally just happened upon our new parking location and found us! This was an incredible fete of survival (in my opinion) to be able to navigate those treacherous roads in the unrelenting rain. Michelle was cool as the breeze about this, but I continued to compliment her as the weekend progressed.
All three of us cheered for runners as they passed by, but because it was so dark, we couldn’t make out any defining features. It was just a line of headlamps passing by us. We kept calling for Jay or Mary Claire, but we didn’t get any responses. We had turned our backs only for a moment when Jay jumped behind Kim and surprised us with an excited, energetic hello. We quickly tended to each runner who were in great spirits and making excellent time. They only stayed a few short minutes before heading back out on the course.
After they left, Michelle headed back to the house (without a map!) and Kim and I tried to get some extra sleep in my car. While we dozed, the rain lightened up and the sun came out. When it was time, we got out of the car and started to once again organize ourselves to see the runners. That’s when John and Jess walked over to our vehicle! Again, we were in a new location and didn’t have service so we couldn’t share this update with anyone. Yet, our people found us. The universe knows. [Insert peace signs]
John changed into a Romp-Him which Mary Claire made for him to wear. Jess and I walked to the corner of the road so we could meet our runners ahead of time and assess what they needed. Mary Claire came in first and just a few minutes behind her Jay appeared. Kim and I helped him refuel and get back on course. He took the breakfast burrito with him, which he expressed gratitude for having. At the time, we believed the rain was going to let up. So, Jay went out without a jacket. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had more in store for us.
Kim and I headed back to the house to shower and regroup before meeting up with the rest of the crew at the designated area. We had fulfilled our duties and were proud of ourselves for setting a solid foundation for the rest of the race. Then, Matt sent a text to us saying the second group who was responsible for setting up aid for the remainder of the event had failed Jay at mile 28. While Kim transitioned into total boss-mode and instructed the team “not to fail him” we frantically got ready and rushed out the door to meet the rest of the team.
Morning to mile 28 (Jay’s Perspective)
3:30am, alarm goes off, 90 mins to get out the door and to the start. Felt confident the night before everything was laid out and ready to go, still somehow managed to feel like a massive clusterfuck trying to get out the door. As I look out the window, it’s dark, it’s cold and its fucking raining…
We have about a 30 min drive to the start, Michelle was awesome enough to get up and deal with my crazy and drive me as the rest of the crew slept in a little bit for what would be a long 24 hours to come. We arrive at the start at 4:52, 8 mins until the race begins, runners everywhere frantically trying to figure out gear and what they would/wouldn’t need for the first 28 miles. It’s dark and the trail is only illuminated by headlamps.
As we line up for the start, Jason gives the final race instructions, very simple. This is an old rail trail, trains do not make fucking left or right turns, if you find yourself making a left or right you're fucked…
5:00am, a very simple 3,2,1 and go. I was off. The first 28 miles were a 14 mile out and back with a fairly steady climb for the entire 14. The plan we had in place was that I would see Patti and Kim at mile 7 for aid and then head out for the turn around at 14 and then see them again at 21. MC and I had planned on running this together for as long as we felt we could.
As we departed Damascus, the energy was incredible, the laughter amongst strangers who were so different but were going to share this same experience. It was pouring, like fucking tropical storm, but that didn’t kill the mood, we were there, all of us, together.
The pack stayed tight for the first 4-5 miles, lots of hoping and skipping around the massive puddles on the flooded trail, but after an hour the “fuck this” mentality took over and I was wet, feet were wet, just run though it. I pulled into mile 7 and saw Kim and Patti, They refilled my pack, grabbed some warm food, hugs, and took off. I had 7 miles to go until the first aid station and then it would be 7 more until Kim and Patti again. At this point MC was pushing a little bit of a faster pace than I wanted to go so we played around with some run walks for a bit. We pulled into the mile 14 aid station as the rain was turning into a light mist, the sun was trying to peak through the horizon. Grabbed some quick aid and heading back towards the start/finish. MC was feeling a faster pace here, so we drifted a part and here it became our own solo race.
The next 14 miles were going to be a steady downhill and I knew my plan was to take this conservative, I used this time to get into a groove, shared some miles with some amazing people, some of which had completed 100 milers in the past, they were more than willing to share advice, and just discuss life. For such an individual activity, trail running is a community spirit. Made my way down to mile 21 and saw Kim and Patti again. It was refreshing to see their faces, restocked everything I would need, the rain had let up at thins point, so I almost left my shell behind, but they suggested I just keep it with me (which would prove to be an amazing suggestion) and headed away to the crew area at mile 28 where I would see everyone else.
About two miles into this section the skies opened up again, it was fucking raining buckets. SO glad I did not leave that shell behind. The miles, clicked away, nice and easy and steady, working in a groove. Just feel like I was in autopilot. The excitement started to kick in, mile 28 was coming up and I would get to see my full crew. Rolled into the mile 28 crew area and Matt met me on the path and had a big ass smile that then turned into a I’ve got something to tell you but don’t want to tell you, look…
Apparently there were some disagreements on the set up of our crew area and location, now I’m sure Matt deep down inside was terrified to tell me they were in the middle of a clusterfuck as I was going into 28, but for some unknown reason I thought it was hilarious, these knuckleheads couldn’t figure out where to set up (not where as in the location the race gave us, but where as is if you were redecorating your house and where do we want to hang these pictures on a wall) so I made my way over to the tent, which was a Barron as the field in which my fucks grow, no food, no gear, just a tent…lol. So I communicated what I needed, fresh shirt, dry shell, grabbed headphones, some snacks, changed into dry socks and I would be all set. Michelle ran back and forth to the car 4 times grabbing bins and everything I needed. I Joked with them about their failure here, gave them a simple grade of a D, we hugged and laughed and I was back off. I headed off for what would be the first of 4,18 mile loops, this was my last time out solo before I would pick up a pacer.
It was a simple 7 and change to the aid station, small out and back over an amazing trestle bridge, back to aid station and then to the start finish. Feeling strong, and staying in a groove made my way though, taking in the beautiful sites along the trail, seeing the smiling faces of the runners both heading out and the lead of the pack coming back in. Constant words of encouragement could be heard for miles throughout the trail. The rain continued to pound down on us, the trails were now a thick deep mud and the air had a deep humidity, one where it was hot while running, but if you stopped you immediately cooled down. The trail crossed into a pasture filled with cows and just like every time you see a cow, I yelled out cow! Coming into the aid station at mile 35 I felt amazing, grabbed some liquids and continued on. Made my way across one of the most beautiful bridges and reached the turn around sign. As I came back though the aid station I fully restocked and started on the 7+ mile run back to the start finish and my crew. Here I started to feel an irritation on my pinky toe, as I progressed along it started to become more noticeable, knowing there was nothing I could do until I reached my crew I threw on my headphones and made the best of it.
Aside from the foot issue, I felt amazing, mentally and physically felt whole, was in the moment and felt clear. Mile 45 about a 1/2 mile before the turn around I was greeted by the most amazing smiling face I’ve ever seen. Told Murph what I would need when I came back, told her to get Bill ready to look at my feet and carried on through the turnaround. As I came back to my crew they were all ready with warm fluids, dry clothes and had a set up for Bill to get into my feet. Apparently my feet looked like a massive fucking raison with a huge blister on my pinky toe. Bill jumped right in and started to pop the blister and drain the fluids, side note, this hurt like a motherfucker, screams of pain coming out of my mouth. Once he drained and cleaned it out he wrapped it in duct tape and I immediately felt better. Changed into dry clothes, went with a dry pair of shoes, restocked my pack and from here on out I would be surrounded by my tribe through the finish.
Mile 46 (Bill’s Perspective)
I set out with Jay right around 3:30. He looked great after 46 miles, and was his normal good-spirited self. His only issues the entire day had been a single (but bad) blister on his right pinky toe (hideous in the best of circumstances, his toes looked like a prop Cronenberg cut to avoid an NC-17 rating) and Matt doing a piss-poor job of setting up a canopy. As we would find out later, Matt’s painfully inept canopy erection skills would result in irreversible damage, requiring the abandonment of the structure 72 miles later.
We walked across the meadow and the busy (for Damascus) road as Jay adjusted to new shoes, socks, a reloaded pack and the unexpectedly sudden end to the Biblical downpour that had plagued our adventure all morning. The rain, as it turned out, would stay away for the remainder of the journey and its absence would ironically provide the only serious difficulty for our 18 mile trip.
Having made it safely across Damascus’ version of the 405, we stopped at the first patch of woods we could find in order to mark our territory. Jay’s urine was faucet-water clear, and his uncomfortably close examination of my powerful stream revealed fine diamond levels of clarity. Having laid claim to a small part of Southern Virginia, Jay and I began to run. He set our pace, which felt smooth and easy.
As we passed through the tent city encampment, I noticed our pace was a shade under 11 minutes. I told Jay we were moving swiftly for 46 miles in, and he assured me this was the right pace. We maintained this pace from the grocery store (which Carl, Matt and I had claimed ownership of earlier that day via urination) until a half-mile from the Mile 3 landmark: a (euphemistically speaking) dilapidated double-wide set back on a landscaping-challenged, half-acre hill dotted with the weather-resistant remains of the fixtures, appliances and other former machinery conveniences which, long-ago having served their intended purposes, now enjoyed second lives as non-traditional lawn ornaments forming a kind of terrestrial redneck coral reef.
The crown jewel of this architectural blemish was a late 70’s/early 80’s Pepsi machine flanking the trail on a slight drumlin. Being of neither the valuable and collectible Coke brand, or the desirable era of such machines (pre-1970), this also-ran soda dispenser stood tall and colorful against the backdrop of a house where they likely nursed a comatose Raphael in a bathtub; its mechanical womb more likely holding a family of possums than cans of sugary shit water.
It was within distance of this fuel crisis-era monolith that we encountered a trio of cougar MILFs that Jay had crossed paths with during the previous 49 miles. The sophisticated jungle cats, Virginia natives all, were clearly delighted to have the company of two rugged, tall, muscular, smart and powerful men; but after 49 miles they were happy to settle for Jay and I. Virginia, they say, is for lovers. Exhibits A, B and C confirmed this as they walked with us to the halfway point. We talked about our children, the run, our crew and several other topics. Before too long, the conversation turned to blisters. Jay volunteered my services, well-known to effectively remedy these issues. The second pacer in the trio enthusiastically lit up at the idea. It was abundantly clear that her feet weren’t the only parts of her body she wanted me rubbing and poking at.
With Jay ready to resume running, we bid the vixens farewell, and resumed our impressive pace along trail for 15 minutes, eventually cutting through a valley with thick brush to our right, and a gigantic hilled pasture swarming with cattle to our left. Slowing to a brisk walk, Jay requested a pizza, which I removed from his pack and handed him in short order, replacing his cache of food as he began to eat, all without slowing. He loudly and repeatedly commented on the grilled quality of the pizza as though he were describing a particularly fantastic BJ mid-act. Having reached the end of the pasture and swallowing the last bite of his meal, we again picked up the pace.
After Mile 5, we again began to run parallel to the river, which was roaring louder than a vomiting Carl. We approached a metal cattle gate, briefly running through the active pasture before exiting through a second cattle gate, and again resuming our brisk running pace, which was now approximately 11:30 per mile. Jay assured this was the right pace.
Eventually we approached the final road crossing before the lone aid station. There, we asked the man in the tent (his purpose remains impenetrably unclear) for the name of the river. He said he would let us know on our way back through. I told him that he better, and showed him my gay-pride clad arms so he would remember us.
In the final couple hundred meters before the aid station, we encountered Carl and Marie Claire™. Both were in high spirits, making great time, and the exchange was entirely pleasant. Spirits were high as we reached the aid station, with Jay 53 miles into his masochistic endeavor. 2 or 3 ounces of water made me feel entirely revived, and Jay joked with volunteers in his typical bombastic fashion before we left the friendly confines.
The 1.5 miles from the aid station to the turnaround were by far the most beautiful. Jay showed me the stilted octagonal house with the multi-tiered deck he had hyped up for the previous 8+ miles. It surpassed the hype. Jay and I considered stealing it, but decided he should finish the race instead…for now. Up a small but measurable incline on the now-widened trail, the most beautiful foot bridge I have ever seen rose before us. The bridge looked fairly cool as we approached it from the trail, but once the woods opened onto the massive river valley, the true enormity of the structure revealed itself. Rising and curving several stories above the water’s surface, the old failure of a long-abandoned Civil War railway curved toward the cliff and turnaround at the other side. The majesty of the valley was extraordinary, made more-so from the first (and only) prolonged period of sunshine that day.
At the end of the bridge, a savvy hippy was flying a drone above the bridge and valley. Jay and I signaled to the craft before stepping foot onto the other side, touching the turnaround sign, and turning around to head back. The return trip across the bridge was no less majestic, and this time was accompanied by two confident blue herons. We reached the other side of the bridge, once again allowed the forest to consume us, and headed back toward the aid station.
10 miles in, Jay again refueled amidst some good-natured banter between the volunteers and I. When we headed out for the final stretch of my run with Jay, I informed him he had run 56 miles, a new personal record for him. He seemed determined and inspired by the achievement, but not celebratory. It was clear that anything short of 100 miles was nearly meaningless. I just wanted to get him to our crew tent and reenergized.
Miles 57 and 58 were smooth. The only events of note were passing the cougar triumvirate and seeing the road guard who, following a short interrogation, gave me every fact I needed about the river (which back in Damascus with the crew was called the Laurel Creek…for reasons). At mile 58, Jay’s determination remained, and perhaps grew. But fatigue was (understandably) creeping in. I kept the topic off of the activity as we returned through the cow pasture, across the cattle valley, and onto Mile 60. I told Jay that he was 60 miles in, 3/5 of the way home. Jay started doing mental math and, though silent for a bit, was clearly running through finishing scenarios and even timing scenarios. His determination grew, but so did his fatigue.
As we approached the decrepit Pepsi machine once more (somehow more uppity than it had been the first time past), Jay had been silent for about 90 seconds. Fine for a normal person, but alarming for Jay. I pointed out the Pepsi machine and Jay, clearly afraid of the monument, suggested we run on the road that ran adjacent to the path. Perhaps believing it to be possessed, we gave it a wide berth. Once safely past, we returned to the trail. This maneuver added a solid 30 feet to Jay’s total distance, but it seemed to soothe him.
Jay, alarmingly, began to discuss math calculations. Not wanting his mind to break, I took over the process and presented him the scenarios in which he would finish in 24 hours. Ultimately, I concluded that based on where we were at, his certain reduction in speed and energy, his growing pain and fatigue as the race went on, that his best case scenario was 23:45 and his worst case scenario was 25:45. He clearly wanted to do sub 24, but knew it would be hard. Nevertheless, he wanted me to act and coordinate with others as though sub 24 was the goal. I assured him I would, but I asked that if he felt like he couldn’t push it on the last leg, regardless of projections, that he tell the team he was going for the finish and not any set time. He agreed completely.
Having removed the timing/math preoccupations from his mind, Jay was back in the moment. He requested musical accompaniment, which I provided “Say Anything” style. I began telling Jay how far we were from various landmarks and various milestones to keep him going while various classics marked our final miles, “Creep”, “Africa”, “Could You Be Loved” made up the soundtrack from a little into Mile 61 to Mile 62, where I announced Jay had just run 100K, and that it was an honor to be there when it happened. He seemed proud, but again it was clear that anything short of 100 miles would cause a feeling of failure, regardless of every insanely incredible accomplishment on the way.
Halfway through the 63rd mile we passed through the encampment, with Heart’s immortal “Alone” highlighting the moment. Through the invigorating and rejuvenating gauntlet of positivity and encouragement, a revived Jay returned to our plan. I would take his entire supply pack, leave him at mile 17 of our journey (mile 63 of his incredible feat), prep the crew for what he needed, and fix his other pinky toe before he set off with Matt and Xxena (the two loves of my life). His goal was clear, yet he was also entirely Zen with merely finishing the race.
His final request before we departed was that I induce him to vomit. I told him I would do this at the crew station (where I had gloves) if he truly wanted, but that emesis was no substitute for defecation, and that forcefully removing processing energy sources because of the terrible discomfort caused by processed energy sources would do nothing to alleviate the discomfort and would cause numerous other problems which could hamper his ability to complete the race. Having discussed these things, he abandoned his Karen Carpenter strategy to fueling and handed his pack.
We parted ways at the caboose and I headed toward the canopy to relay instructions and strategy. Jay returned, and his pit crew executed his pit stop to his precise specifications. As Jay left with Matt and Xxena to add another 18 miles to his goal, Carl and I headed to the house to shower and enjoy a romantic dinner together. We got as far as third base before Carl’s disdain for meaningful foreplay rendered me irrevocably flaccid, and we returned to base as Jay continued to kick fucking ass.
Mile 46 (My Perspective)
First pacer, This was supposed Bill and Carl, Carl then decided to put hoes before bros and took MC out with my motherfucking cookies……. In all seriousness, Carl jumped right in to help support MC as she was aggressively chasing sub 24 and had already put this in her own mind. Bill and I took off, felt great, feet felt a million times better, mind and body were strong. Plan was simple, stay on a conservative pace, stick to hydration and nutrition and keep moving forward.
Bill and I met some amazing people on the trail, chatted and moved on. We took in the sites and sounds, Bill took the opportunity to aggressively interrogate the locals on the history of the local geography. As we made our way to the aid station we filled fluids and headed out for the bridge, hit the turn around and made our way back. Once again restocked, took in some soups, and dried off a bit as the rain was still continuing to hammer us. We were 7 miles from the start finish at this point. We transitioned into a small walk run, just trying to change up muscle groups. Around mile 56 we celebrated a new distance PR, took sometime to reflect that every step forward was a new PR and uncharted territory. We kept a solid pace, and enjoying the time and miles.
We reached the Damascus Wikipedia guy who then gave Bill the fun run down about the geographic history of the river (which is rated in the top 10 trout rivers in the country). As we passed the 100k mark we started discussing if sub 24 would be possible and creating a plan if that would be in the cards. The amazing part was I was not hell bent on that goal and would not let it dictate our plan, but would keep it as an option. Bill would take the lead on talking to the crew about the different scenarios and plans if that would be in the cards. We agreed that we would make that determination at 82 and not before.
About mile 63 felt another blister forming on my other foot and Bill decided to pull ahead to set up at the crew station to take care of my feet when I would get there. He would get the crew set up with anything I needed to try to make this as efficient as possible before heading back out. I continued through the crew area to the turnaround and back to my crew. 64 miles in and felt incredible. Changed all of my clothes here, Bill worked his magic on my foot, new shoes and was time to get back out there.
I would be heading out in the dark with Matt and Xena for the next section. Was excited to be in such high spirits heading into this leg. Coming into the race I truly thought this would be a “dark” time for me and I felt the complete opposite. This would also be amazing as Xxena would be heading out for her longest run ever.
Mile 64(Xxena’s Perspective)
I was so anxious, not only was I running a long distance that I have never run before, but I was running with two seasoned runners, and I didn’t want to be the reason Jay slowed down; I didn’t want to hold him up.
Heading out was awesome, I really got a feel for how tight knit the running community is, everyone we passed was cheering Jay on, and he was doing the same thing; it was like everyone knew everyone, in a spiritual kind of way. I will never forget the guy that said he lives in a van and had completed 50 100-mile races last year, or hearing Jay tell the speed-walking mom to slow down because she was somehow speed-walking faster than we were able to run. Having only run road races, experiencing the trail running community, and the part of that community that signed up to run 100 miles, was so new. They’re so supportive of each other.
Once we were a few miles in, we were doing some “sightseeing” and by that, I mean, Jay was explaining the things around us that he had seen over and over that day, but Matt and I could barely see because it was so dark. It was almost scary hearing the water next to us but not being able to see it, or anything really, that wasn’t lit up by the headlamp. It was scary, but really cool at the same time, to have to be so aware of your surroundings, to work together to make sure no one was falling, especially with the mud EVERYWHERE. I remember Jay shouting random sounds and words to keep himself going and having a long conversation about if that’s a “normal” thing to do to keep yourself going LOL. Jay also filled me in on how trail running and road running are different, trail races are more about finishing and proving to yourself that you are able to do it, where road races are much more about speed.
The bridge where we turned around to start heading back was so beautiful, all lit up with glow sticks, not being able to see much of anything besides the glow sticks and hearing the water flowing under the bridge was such a surreal thing to experience. Matt giving some guys on the bridge fake history on the bridge had me dying, he is so convincing.
I was starting to have a lot of pain in my IT band in both legs, I assume it was from sliding in the mud a few times and generally having never run on anything but roads. I definitely was not going to say anything to Jay or Matt, there was NO way that I was going to hold anyone up, plus, why would I complain about leg pain when Jay had been running for 18 hours straight at that point? The only person, in my mind, that was allowed to complain about pain or being tired, was Jay. He had earned that.
The run back was different than the run out, Jay was going strong but my legs were in so much pain I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I started just watching Jay’s and Matt’s feet in the headlamp light to see when they started to walk or run so I could keep up with their rhythm. I knew once we got to the aid station that I was going to have to cut out and leave them when we got back to the crew because I was seriously slowing down and Jay had a pace he needed to keep.
Once we left the aid station, I started watching for things like houses that we had passed earlier, trying to get a feel for where we were. I gave that up eventually, because everything looked the same. Once we got to tent city, I knew we were close by the crew, I think that is also where we started walking because Jay’s legs were hurting pretty bad. Once we got back to the street we had to cross to get to the crew, I saw Bill flashing his headlamp, I stopped there and Jay and Matt finished the last mile. My legs and feet hurt so bad, but I was proud that I was able to (mostly) run that distance for the first time, and it was so awesome and such an honor to have been a part of something so incredible. I was grateful that Jay let me tag along and be a part of that.
Overall, it was a pretty incredible experience.
Mile 64 (Matt’s Perspective)
As Jay has quite bluntly told me numerous times on this trip that I don’t take things seriously enough at times, I was going to make sure this 18 mile leg was going to be taken seriously. I was the fortunate enough to be the one to check the color of his urine and see his little turtle dick at least eight times. We started off great hitting around a 13 minute mile for the first quarter before tapering back to about a 14 minute. A power walking mom passed us and we paced her for a bit before coming up on a couple who lived in a converted Sprinter and the one guy ran fifty 100 milers this year (and 68 last year). Jay was intrigued by this and proceeded to ask this man no less 75 questions on the how’s and where’s. They eventually ran ahead of us to get away.
At this point I was asking if Jay was drinking enough since he hadn’t peed yet. My first dad move came out when I made sure he started drinking and that he wasn’t lying about it. We scheduled a drink so I could watch him do it. The trail by this point in the night was mostly slop. Without trail shoes it became dangerous at points with the slippage. The aid station on the way out was a nice sight. All lit up and a wide array of snacks and drinks. We ran into MC, who was on her way back, looked like she had been hit with a bus. We continued on, into the sultry night air.
We crossed a long bridge for our turn around. We couldn’t see anything but their were glow sticks at the one end. I gave a fake history lesson on the bridge only to be surprised when we crossed and found two runners listening and “learning” about it. They will probably now return home and spread this misinformation to all their friends. On our turnaround we all still felt good. After leaving the aid station the second time it started to get painful and dark for Jay. The quads started to seize up. We decided to start a two minute on and 90 second off. My second dad move with keeping very close track of the times, “ok, 45 seconds left.” “Nice slow pace.” “One minute to go.” “Ok good, walk for 90.” became a repeated mantra. We did this with Xxena hanging back with a tight IT band. It was tough seeing Jay in this much pain and I may or may not have secretly shed tears from feeling so bad but also feeling so proud of him. The perseverance was astounding.
The 90s rap music on full blast on the trail may have been a poor choice to listen to. Obscenities could be heard far and wide. Apologies were doled out to passing runners. Seeing Tent City was a welcome site knowing we were so close and dropped the rest of the running at this point. It was a walk at about an 18 min pace. Seeing that caboose at the intersection was such a great feeling. One mile to go. Mentally I was fine and physically my knees and feet were shot. My road sneakers were a bad choice for this kind of expedition. Jay on the other hand was very clearly mentally drained and it was apparent after his 81st mile. That last mile he was a little energized to get to the turnaround and get back to the tent for some broth. He wasn’t able to eat anymore at this point and I was pretty concerned about his final 18 miles for endurance. He would do it no doubt but we knew it was going to be a level of mental and physical anguish he’s never seen before.
Mile 64 (My Perspective)
Came into here feeling strong, some nice personal accomplishments achieved on the last leg, it's weird to think every step forward was a new long distance. Headed out with Matt and Xena. Matt had a plan on entertainment and this would be my first time running with Xena. Mentally felt strong, physically felt strong. This was going to be the leg that would determine how I would finish. There was a tiny seed in my head that sub 24 was a ver achievable goal.
We strutted along and a very conversational pace, the daylight quickly faded and we were fully into the night. The trail takes on a different look in the dark. There was still an amazing energy on the course. We connected with some interesting people and carried forward. We pulled into the aid station around mile 71 and had a plan to make this a quick stop for fluids and fully restock after the turn around. As we made our way up to the turnaround we took in the sounds and sights, looked out into the darkness over the bridge and came back though the aid station. Fully stocked up, grabbed some soup and headed back out for the 7 mile trek to the start/finish.
About mile 75 I started to dip into a low, felt the first blister start to come back and some of the results of having wet feet all day. My feet almost felt like I had an extra layer of skin on them folded underneath. Both Matt and Xena kept the conversation light, but positive, Matt was making sure I was keeping up with hydration and we transitioned into more of a walk run. It was here I entered my worst enemy, my own head. That tiny sub 24 seed that planted was becoming a focus and now I was doing math and working though 20 different scenarios. Matt made sure to keep me moving forward, one foot in front of the other.
We came upon the crew area, gave some heads up on needs and made our way to the start/finish turn around. It was here, one final 18 mile loop, I had just over 5 hours to do 18 miles and sub 24 was in sight. I was perfectly in position with Kim and Patti coming up. I left the start/finish knowing I would finish this race, now it was how would I finish. Came back to the crew area, one final switch on shoes and socks, grabbed a long sleeve, changed shorts and we were out.
Mile 82 (Kim’s Perspective)
I was fairly terrified about our leg because I’d been told all summer to prepare for fast walking and then, all of a sudden, come Monday it became “be prepared to run the entire 18 miles.” So I was quizzing everyone as they came in about how much walking vs. running they were doing and how fast were they running. Then Murph and I were able to grab a little nap in her car. Once we started getting ready after we woke up, I realized it was much warmer than we expected and I was super happy about that. I felt my outfit was perfect and I liked my new vest I had been bullied into buying. So Jay and Matt and Xxena come in. We’re tending to Jay and Matt's dad calls me over and I lean down and he whispers: “he went dark at the end there. Be prepared to walk.” And I said ok.
Murph and I had a plan - one would walk ahead and one would walk behind. And that’s really all we had talked about. So we collect Jay and off we go. So I took off, quickly setting the pace. I felt like the first few minutes or so were Jay telling us how he felt, what we had missed, saying it sucked. Then not too far in, Murph suggested we try running for a minute and walking for :90. So Jay agrees and says he needs a :45, :30 and :15. So I counted us through the entire thing and after Jay said “nope. Not happening.” So I sort of looked at my watch and thought well shit. If it’s gonna be a 20 minute mile for 18 miles, we can’t go over that or it will really, really suck. So we sort of hunkered down.
There wasn’t a ton to see because it was dark but we could hear the river rushing alongside us. Murph had wanted to play “all I do is win win win” for our glow stick party when Jay came in but I think we were too busy tending to him but I made sure to grab one and occasionally I would shake it and start singing. I honestly have no idea what was going through my head - I just knew we weren’t going to let Jay stop and the longer it took us the longer it was going to take, so I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Jay was still Jay really, just a tired Jay. He was like “this really sucks” but then he would talk and sound normal. He had told us he was going to dedicate each mile to someone so when we hit 83 that was something to talk about and then the same with 84.
At 85, Murph and I made a big deal, saying how great it was that he made it to that point. 85-90 were pretty steady. We definitely made a big deal about 90. Then the next big thing for Jay had been hitting the aid station. We saw MC and Jess. MC’s lips were white/blue and she really looked awful but Jess was telling her to go. So she looked at us and said “I don’t want these poles anymore.” So we agreed to take them. We had some snacks. I think Jay bitched about someone taking his squirrel nut butter but I was too busy enjoying my ramen and oatmeal cream pie. Then we set off again. I remember pointing out some of the houses. Jay was still saying some stuff but had also really started turning a little under his breath - just a moaning, cursing, incoherent babble. I just ignored it and kept going.
Jay perked up a little when we hit the long bridge and it really was beautiful. On the turnaround, Jay made us all turn off our headlamps and stand there and look at the glow sticks and listen to the frogs. Then we set off again. At this point, I felt it was really positive to start to point out all of the people behind Jay and show him how far along he was. Once we got off the bridge, he sat with some guy from Charlotte and it really started to show how much he was fading but we only had one goal. We made it back to aid and he went to the bathroom. I had another oatmeal cream pie. Murph and I made him take note - this was the last aid station he would see. It was maybe after this that we realized my watch wasn’t synced up and we actually had LESS time than I thought we had. That perked us up to.
As I mentioned, Jay was dedicating each mile but I tried to wait until we were a little ways into the mile so it would seem faster. For example, we’d hit mile 93 but I would wait until 93.20 or so and say “so who is mile 93 for?” And Jay would say “did we just hit 93?” And I’d say “oh we’ve been here for a while.” So anyway. We were maybe at mile 95. And it started to get rough. Jay kept putting his head on his poles and just wanted to stay there. And we would say, ok lets go. I don’t know that I made eye contact with Murph or Jay this entire time. I just knew we had to keep moving forward. I remember around 3 I said “this is OTF wake up time.” I know at one point I ran backwards because #payback. But we just kept going. Patti was saying all of her stuff she had ready and I just kept going. I was convinced at 4:30 or so that the sun was coming up (it wasn’t) and we talked about that for a while. At one point, Patti told me to stay close but I also tried to tell Jay that when we hit flat parts I wanted him to go faster. At some point, he wanted to go sit on someone’s porch and we were like “nope, let’s go.”
I remember Jay said “we’re a little more than a mile from Tent City.” So I texted Matt. Then we were trying to remember what time we met at Matt’s house before our first Ragnar. So I tried to look but couldn’t find it but found Jay’s post race email and read that. Cried a little when I read the part that said “you may not be Jeter but you’ll always be my captain.” Then I could tell Jay wanted to get to Tent City. He kept saying “where the fuck is it?” We saw it and made a big deal out of that. It was pretty dead there but not packed up. I texted Matt that we were there and he said “is this an old text?” And I said “no we’re here now. He’s dying but he’s gonna finish.” Then I look at Jay and say “is this the point you say you had gas left in the tank and want to run?” He said “fuck no. Where’s the turn in the road?” So we kept saying it’s just ahead.
We finally get there and a car is coming. I felt the need to full-on stop them in the middle of the road with Mary Claire’s pole, even though they could have quickly passed before Jay walked across but I wanted space clear for him. This lady in a van said “that was really nice directing there.” We hit the bridge and see Carl and Matt and then Jay takes off running. We followed him and he made it around the bend and was finished! What a hug at the end! Was so proud. Only then did I really realize how bad my feet and back hurt. But it was all worth it.
Mile 82 (Patti’s Perspective)
19 HOURS INTO THE YETI 100
Luckily, the rain stopped by nightfall. Prior to the race, Jay had asked us to prep a rave/glow stick party for him at the last crew-supported aid station. We remembered this at the last minute and quickly decorated the tent and got our glow sticks ready.
Kim and I were preparing to pace Jay from miles 82 to the finish when he came in earlier than we expected. Jay sat in the chair and we all tended to his needs. In between fetching items, feeding him and prepping for the final out and back I asked Xxena and Matt about their leg with Jay. They both explained that the three of them had employed a run/walk method of getting through the miles. This offered some relief since Kim and I were afraid that Jay would be committed to a 24-hour finish which meant we’d have to run the entire 18 miles with him. Not an outcome we had planned for! But Jay asked for his walking poles and as soon as he stood up informed us that he wanted to walk. Kim proceeded to set an unprecedented powerwalking pace. She was relentless in this for the remainder of the race and is clearly a contender for the USA Olympic powerwalking team.
Our first mile was…dare I say jovial? Jay was obviously tired. You could hear it in his voice. But he kept up with the pace which was around 17 minutes per mile. That’s the average pace for people normally and he was keeping it up after running 82 miles in hours and hours of rain! At one point, Kim and I tried to get him to run for one minute so we could employ the same run/walk Xxena and Matt had, but after the first minute Jay informed us in a matter of fact way that he would not be running anymore. Overall, he was in a good mood, engaged in conversation and excited to be on the final stage of this endurance run.
Jay asked me to play to the video Tim Clarke produced for him. We then started discussing some of the points Tim had brought up. Especially the line about owing your performance to your past and future selves. Jay became a bit philosophical at this point—and for several miles more. Kim and I played the remaining videos for him again just to pass some time and keep him motivated.
The final out and back had us passing several landmarks including Tent City, glow sticks in the street and a cow pasture. In my memory a lot of the miles blur together, but several things stand out (in no particular order). We left the crew area shortly after midnight. My favorite time to run—NOT. The trail was pitch black. As is typical with trail running at night, you could only see the five feet in front of you. Unless you looked up with your headlamp at which point you could make out a canopy of massive trees around you. The creek sounded like a rushing white-water rapid river given all the rain we had during the day. We really only had each other during those moments and the runners who walked by us without any company—that’ll stay with me for a while. We passed at least one runner who just sat on a bench by himself in the dark with his head down. You have to wonder what was going through his mind at that time, sitting alone in the dark, expansive wilderness and what his outcome might have been.
As we approached the last aid station, Jay started showing signs of extreme fatigue. We passed a house with two porches and at first, he called it a drone. (Later we found out that Bill and Jay saw a drone around this point on the trail, but obviously Jay was confused). When we got to the aid station, we saw Mary Claire and Jess. Mary Claire did not look well at all. Her legs looked wrecked, her shoulders were locked up and she needed help putting on her pack. She hardly made sense when she spoke, but one thing she did make clear: she was adamant that she didn’t want her walking sticks anymore. They were annoying her. So, I took them off her pack and then she and Jess took off for the finish line. MC was not walking or running. It was more like she was hobbled over, shuffling in a forward motion.
After the aid station, we had to make it over the glow stick bridge. Once we did that, we could turn around and head back to the finish line. While we were walking back over the bridge, Jay did the most Jay-like thing and it made me confident that we were doing the right thing by walking this final leg and enjoying this incredible journey. While standing on the bridge, he asked me and Kim to turn off our headlamps and he did the same. We stood there for a few short moments in the dark, listening to the water lap beneath us, breathing in the fresh mountain air and were able to just make out the silhouette of our dark surroundings. This is why we do this. For some brief moments of living fully in the present and expressing gratitude for the ability to do what we do amongst glorious nature.
When we got to the aid station for the last time, Jay put cream on his thighs, which started cramping up badly. I also emptied his pack of excess food that I knew he wouldn’t eat with just seven miles to go. And I also found his squirrel nut butter which he applied himself (thankfully) in the bathroom. At some point I started massaging his quads, which I continued to do a couple of more times on trail. Not sure if it helped, but the effort was there.
Jay started to get quiet and needed to stop more frequently. He also began to experience his Tourette-like tendencies; mumbling and cursing to himself. At one point he screamed “FUCK!” so loud, I’m sure everyone on the course heard him. He also started to cry. Not the sobs he had let out earlier in the chair, but a steady stream of blubbering while walking forward. It’s a good thing he had his walking sticks. He wasn’t walking in a straight line but swaying more and more and leaning on the sticks for support. From miles 95 on, it was a constant effort to keep him going and track how he was doing.
Kim and I had a strategized before our leg. We would have her walking in front, pulling Jay out of the race while I walked behind pushing him forward. Clearly, this was a great plan and I’m glad we stuck with it. Kim continued with her powerwalk a solid 20 feet in front of us at all times. I stuck closer to Jay either at his hip or on his heels muttering encouraging words for miles and miles (which equals hours at this point). “Keep going. You got this. Dig deep. Don’t stop. You’re so close. You’re okay. This is what you trained for. You knew this was coming. Push through. You just have to get to the finish line. Go to the finish line and then everyone will take care of you. We can’t help you if you’re not at the finish line. Keep digging. Move forward. Keep the momentum going.” On and on and on. I was annoying myself after a while, but I feared Jay would either fall asleep if I wasn’t talking to him or his mind would focus on the pain. He was swaying so much I started to contemplate how we would get him help if he collapsed on the trail and needed it.
Jay would stop once and a while to place his head on his sticks and stretch out his hamstrings a bit. This is when he’d really let out some tears. He was telling me and Kim how much his feet hurt. He thought he had a new blister on his big toe and said his feet were on fire. I was concerned that running with wet feet all day had taken a toll on him. At one point, while he took a beat and cried, Kim and I shared the same thought and without looking at each other encouraged Jay to keep walking. I know that if I looked at her then we all would have started crying and if we let Jay continue to go down that rabbit hole of pain it would be hard to pull him out of it.
As we got closer to the finish line, Jay wanted to stop at the guardrail near the glow sticks in the road. He was sitting for less than a minute when a man walking toward the final out and back showed up. He had a fabulous attitude and was so perfect we wondered if he was real or if he was some sort of spirit guide! He had a witty sense of humor, explained that his crew had him going on his final leg without tending to his blisters and expressed that he was jealous of Jay’s position in the race. We were closing in on 24-hours at this point. To think of runners still having to head to the turnaround changed Jay’s perspective immediately. We said our goodbyes and continued toward the finish line.
Jay still had to stop from time to time. At one point, he saw some pumpkins on a porch and was veering off course to sit on them, but Kim and I wouldn’t let him. He also complained about having a rock in his shoe. Even if it was mile 98, a rock in his shoe was no good. He bent over, took off his sneaker and emptied it. I tied it and while I did so he instructed me not to tie it too tightly. His feet had swollen. He quickly took off the other shoe and I retied it. This was a poor decision because the moment he stepped forward he almost collapsed. We should have kept the shoes on until the end of the race. He hobbled the rest of the way and was clearly in excruciating pain.
Kim was doing a great job of keeping us posted on miles and always the delivered an update with an excited attitude that made you happy to hear it. Earlier during our leg, Jay was dedicating each mile to a person, thing or belief. It kept him positive and grateful for being there—even though it sucked. It also helped pass some time. However, the final miles were dedicated to getting him to complete the race, so we didn’t finish the list.
Eventually, we passed Tent City. This time was different than the first. Instead of being full of life, the area was quiet as crews slept. Kim jokingly asked Jay if this was the point when he’d tell us he wanted to run to the finish line, and he expressed a hard pass at that idea. But eventually we made it to the bridge near the caboose. Kim saw a car coming down the road, so she stepped out immediately with authority and using MC’s pole stopped the vehicle so Jay could walk across the street safety. Several women in a nearby van could not get over Kim’s boss move, but we know that’s her. In fact, while we were walking Kim started reading the first sappy email Jay ever sent to us six years ago after Ragnar ADK in which he told her, “You may not be Jeter, but you’ll always be my captain.” Sniffle.
We got to the bridge near the crew station which was lit up beautifully and saw Matt and Carl waiting for us. THIS was the moment Jay realized the race was complete. He had done it. There’s no way he wouldn’t pass the finish line now. He bent over and started to cry (again) but this time it was relief and not as much pain. We all couldn’t look at each other really. Again, we would have broken down too. Time was ticking and we were so close. I told Jay not to lose it yet and to keep going! Matt cracked open a beer. Me, Kim and Matt took a sip as we walked behind Jay and Carl. Jay started taking off what he didn’t need, abandoned his sticks and put on a mask. Without warning, he started running toward the finish line over the last trestle bridge. His run may have been a bit premature, as he had to run more than he intended to get to the finish line, but we all had his back and not before long we were all standing under a blow-up rainbow (the finish line) sharing hugs, tears and congratulations to Jay for finishing the Yeti 100 Mile Endurance Run in an incredible 25.5 hours.
Mile 82 (My Perspective)
As we left the crew area, I was less than 18 miles from that finish. These two had the weight of the work on their shoulders, they have been with me through the entire journey and they felt as if it was on them to see the through. Kim had suggested right away we start with a walk/run, as soon as we started to get into that trot I just knew running was not in the cards. My legs just did not want to turn over. I can only relate the feeling to a gear that would be bone dry with no lube. Lifting my feet more than a few inches off the ground was painful and just felt hard. We determined that a brisk power walk was our best option with Kim in front and Murph next to me. Kim out of nowhere became a world class power walking athlete. Murph played a video from Tim Clarke again for me, which had a simple reminder that I owe this finish to my past self. I needed to hear that at that moment.
We kept a brisk pace going and Kim and Patti just kept the positivity through the roof, saying the things I needed to hear, they truly believed in me. This finish wasn’t just my finish, this was their finish as well. We got into the aid station at 89, again the plan was fluids and we would restock on the way back, the trek to the turn around felt long and hard, things were starting to become tough. We finally got to the final trestle bridge crossing, mile 91, the bridge was lit with glow sticks, we took a few minutes and turned our headlamps off and just took it all in. The training, the conversations, our lives. For those few minutes we were just living in that moment.
We started the short 1.3 mile trek back to the aid station. Legs were sore, hurting, mind was starting to wonder, Kim and Patti just kept me moving, words of encouragement all the way, every single step. We arrived back at the aid station, I took some lids, some soup, and hit my legs one more time with lube. We were in the home stretch, little did I know this would be the hardest 7 miles of my life. About mile 95 the wheels came off, I was emotional, crying for no fucking reason. Legs hurt so bad, mind was gone, tired wasn’t event close to the feeling I was having. Felt like I was just mumbling gibberish. Kim and Patti just kept me moving, taking breaks when needed, and back to work.
As we were making our way back in, there were hoards of runners heading out on their final trek. Patti kept reminding me how lucky I was to be where I was and those runners would rather be me. The pain was increasing, my legs just felt locked, my mind was gone. Kim just keeping us going, she never lost a step, never lost that positive attitude, Patti stayed right by my side every step of the way. The miles were taking forever, the math just made the finish seem further and further away.
Mile 97 I felt unhinged, an emotional mess. Patti told me I wasn’t allowed to cry until the finish. Every step hurt an agonizing pain. As we came up to the caboose, the crew area we were there less than a mile. The crew met us at the final bridge crossing, somehow, somewhere I managed to run across that bridge and through that finish line. I was met by the hug I was waiting for. Jason gave me a hug, gave me words I needed to hear and handed me the buckle. That was it. It was over. Months of my life had come to an end. I was a hot fucking mess sobbing and crying, embracing my team that had been along for my entire journey. We did it, each and every one of us did this! Everyone was a part of getting me there.
We came home and celebrated like we know how to, shots and beers at 8:00am!
Carl’s Story
Whether it’s Christmas time, the last Saturday of the month at the soup kitchen, or a roll in the hay, I’m much more of a giver than receiver. So when our team decided that because 2020 is the worst, we’d make the best of it. No, there wouldn’t be a traditional team event like Ragnar or that time Matt ran the train. But we would not go down without a fight. We’d rally around one of our strongest runners and personalities and help him take one of our toughest challenges yet, 100 miles.
Though it seemed like the last weekend in September might never come because March literally lasted twelve years, it did and the first time anyone didn’t cancel a race or vacation was upon us. Making my way to Southwest Virginia from DC was filled with murder and skittles because that keeps me off the guardrails. Like many times before, I arrived before the rest of the team and was greeted with three dogs and Dave, who helped me get into the house. It was old but lovely and perfect for what we needed. We’ve usually had pretty good success with places we’ve stayed, save for the place in the Dacks that left our keys in the room.
Like your new outfit on the first day of school, I was excited to see all my friends for the first time in what seemed like ages. The team gathered Thursday evening and started prepping for what would be a challenging but rewarding experience that would be dinner that night. I mean my pasta was bad and no one even said a word. So I knew we were ready for whatever else came our way.
Friday morning started off with a bang because, unsurprisingly, the women were in charge and things went smoother than squirrel nut butter on the balls of a baby. Some shit happened around mile 28 but soon after we found our stride, mostly because the women came back and put us back on course.
I’ve always wanted to get naked in the back of Jay’s car but I always envisioned he would be there too. Unfortunately, I was alone and sockless. But thanks to our amazing captain and Michelle letting me take the car, I was able to get some socks and be ready to take on the course.
As the rain fell and the sky continued to be cloudy, something did start to become crystal clear: I was going to have to pinch hit and sacrifice my mileage with Jay, and all the awesome beard compliments, and Benedict Arnold my team to help a fellow runner through. Meeting Mary Claire five minutes before her miles with no bra on was like a speed dating dream, except we were soaked and not in an aroused way (because running with a boner is not advisable). I was sad not to run with Jay and Bill but knew that I needed to take my talents to a runner in need.
Setting out for 18 miles with a 7 minutes on, 1 minute off pace, the miles seemed to glide by. Making sure she was eating, drinking, and peeing perfectly was what I needed to do. We got it done. The course was a muddy, wet mess which was half maddening, half amazing, and half trying not to treat a muscle. Talking about goats, John, and literally anything else I could think of to distract her from the pain cave, I did my Carl best. But what really saved her was simple quesadillas and mini Snickers (which I also ate!) Over the course of those 17.5 miles, I gathered what she would need and relayed that to my new favorite leading man and then caught up with MC Hammer just in time to get some sweet photos done.
While I was done running, I wasn’t done crewing. A shower and some real food later and I was back in the tent ready to help wherever needed, which just mean holding a towel again and trying to avoid Jay’s balls in my periphery. It also involved playing music and getting glow sticks ready and then being alone in a dark park for a good chunk of time playing words with friends and listening to music at a volume that wouldn’t even wake the dead.
After an incident with a pop up tent, we were on our way to the finish line. Trying to figure out math on very little sleep as to when both our friends would cross. Mary Claire came in under 24 hours by the fluid filled skin of her legs and then got carried away by the fireman like some kind of twisted scene from an Officer and a Gentleman. As the minutes ticked by, the anticipation to see our friend not only cross a finish line, but a starting one as well for the next chapter of his life.
Growing a little concerned about the status of our last crew of runners, Dad and I made our way out to the caboose to give Jay the last breath of air he needed to finish his race and for the rest of us to finish our crewing. And with tears in his eyes (and probably a little nut butter too), he did it. And we all were so proud.
Running has brought us all together and while it will always be our main focus, it’s never the only focus. My favorite moments are watching Jay watch the sun come up, or Kim make breakfast, or watch Matt have a good cry, or Bill doctor us all to health with remedies for both the body and the soul, or just be in the presence of Patti. The small moments, the breweries, the meals, the weird ancillary characters who fart and giggle. The shit talking, the hugs you never want to end, or singalongs. It’s weird to call this a team when it’s really a family, filling my cup so high that no matter what else 2020 brings I’ll never be thirsty. Unless the Orange dildo (Trump) wins. Then we’re all moving.
Michelle’s Story
Having been with Jay for 17 years now, I am very used to crazy adventures, being amused, meltdowns and exhaustion. I had a feeling this weekend would be packed with all of that. I was most looking forward to being there while he achieved this huge goal. It's been a long training regimen for Jay, but also for the family. Lots of long runs and hikes, means a little less family time along the way. One of the things I love most about Jay is his passion. Sometimes the focus changes, but the passion behind his projects and challenges is inspiring and contagious, so we’ve all been looking forward to this milestone for him.
So with all the laundry in the house done (& 80% of it packed in Jays totes) we hit the road on Thursday. It was a long ride to PA, made to feel even longer by the Car ride Karaoke sessions Jay & Matt had with their Disney soundtracks. Once we arrived at Bills the planning started. It was starting to feel more real. Jay, Kim, Patti, Bill & Matt had a meeting to finalize details and download maps (which seemed very trivial at the time, but turns out was a very important task.) After waiting for MC’s pacer to arrive, we all packed it in for bed and headed out early Thursday am for VA.
We arrived at packet pickup which was located at the start/finish for the race. After getting Jays stuff we headed up to the house, where I realize I had no cell service and just took in the sites on the way to the house. The house where we were staying at was this gorgeous farmhouse style home about 30 minutes up a steep and windy mountain. Matt, Kim & Patti headed to the grocery store to grab stuff for dinner. We really wanted to get Jay in bed by 9 or so, so he could get a good night’s sleep.
Jay packed up the last minute stuff and organized bags to his preferences. We could all tell it was starting to feel real, and the nerves were kicking in. After dinner, Jay had a chat with the team that set the tone for the next day. Patty had a video message for Jay that really seemed to resonate and I think was just what he needed to hear to get a good nights sleep and focus on the fun part of what he’s been working towards. His Raceday Reward.
I was so amazed to see the group rally around him each and every time he came in. Not being a runner, I really didn’t know what he would need and how he would be mentally as he came in each time. Patti had a plan, and it was perfect! She met him on the trail each time so she could assess health wise how he was feeling and get any food requests from him. She reported back to us and we heated up or bagged anything he needed. Everyone seemed to have a role and they all worked together amazingly to help each of his stops at the crew tent be effective and uplifting. Even despite the non stop rain, blisters forming on his feet, and the lack of food at mile 28, he was so positive and really seemed to be enjoying it.
Matt was in communication with Kim during the last 18 and we knew he wasn’t feeling great. His legs were really hurting and they were taking it slow. Matt, Carl & I were at the finish for a couple of hours just so that we were ready when Jay arrived. As we knew he was coming to his last couple of miles, we knew he was beginning to struggle. He was exhausted and sore. Matt & Carl decided they were going to throw sneakers on and head out to meet them so Jay had as much support as possible crossing the finish line. That moment, along with watching everyone pull together to crew made me realize how lucky they all are to have each other. Not just to get each other through the miles, but to watch them all pull together and take time out of their lives because this was something so important to Jay. His goal became their goal and they were all going to do whatever it took to get him to his goal. Together.
To watch Jay finish brought the tears. For all of us, especially Jay. But to see him conquer this goal that he’s been working so hard towards was simply inspiring. I was so happy to be included and be able to be there to see him overcome all of the Raceday challenges, the things he can’t control, and despite them all, push forward and finish. Amazing.
