Yeti 100 Part 3 of 3

Start from the beginning. Click here for part 1.

At the top of Whitetop Station, crap hit the fan. I was scared, cold, and fatigued (both mentally and physically). I sat in a camping chair drinking chicken broth. I needed a sweatshirt underneath my jacket, which now had a stuck zipper. This whole process took way too long, which Becky took notice. With her help and Sara’s, I was able to get my hoodie and jacket back on in a relative fast manner. As I was shaking from emotions and the cold, I completely broke down. With my head in my hands, I remember sobbing about the finish line being “too far.” To me, it was insurmountable. How could anyone possible continue? I heard the sniffles from my crew as they rubbed my back and consoled me. This is really it this time. I’m gassed out, my brain is in a dark place. I am cold, sore, and cramping everywhere. There is no way I can continue.

With Sara at Whitetop Station the first time. The second time, we weren't all smiles...

Then a guy came in with a hotspot and huge blister. The volunteers took off his shoe and helped give him treatment. The dude than began to stand up and hobble away. If he can do it, why can’t I?

I’m not sure what happened next. I think it involved eating some Fritos scooped in salt. Maybe I peed again? I vaguely remember apologizing for peeing directly next to someone. Regardless, Sara and I got back on the trail. And holy crap, we were running! Like, not hobbling down a path, but actually running!!!

For the next four miles, I felt invincible. I tried to be motivational as I passed people climbing up, though it probably didn’t come off that way. We even passed a few people going the same direction as us!

The next way station(s) was(were) a blur. However, in between, I peed a lot. We then made it to the next aid station where I guzzled broth and ate Fritos/chips scooped with salt - you know, my new diet. I’m pretty sure my kidneys hate me, but it was the only thing keeping my legs mobile. It was at this aid station that I realized, “Yes, Josh, you can finish this. Positive mental attitude!”

But with the highs come the lows. I started to get in a dark place again. I was tired. REALLY tired. Like falling asleep while running tired. I would run for a bit, less than half a mile, and slow to a walk. After a few strides, I would stop to rest my hands on my knees. I would then go in and out of sleep only to be snapped awake when my hands slipped off. I would then pee and walk a bit more, maybe even break out into a slow run. And then, as the saying goes, “lather, rinse, repeat.” Only for me it was “walk, pee, sleep, repeat.”

I complained to Sara about how tired I was. Though she was encouraging and did a great job, my brain was secretly telling her to shut up and sleep. I visualized myself sleeping on the side of the trail. I was even trying to do math to figure out how much time I could spend just laying down. I was constantly trying to get my micro sleeps, but Sara kept pushing me forward. Even after drinking another Red Bull, my eyelids were starting to win the war.

However, my persistence of complaining about resting paid off. As we approached another trestle, Sara actually suggested that I rest on the side of the bridge. I tried to make my way, but began to stumble. In my mind, I fell off the side of the bridge. To my surprise, I must have grabbed Sara’s body and safely perched my head on the rail. I snapped back to it quickly as a guy ran by. I don’t remember what he said, but it was something generic like “let’s go, buddy.” And for whatever reason, I went.

Every now and then I would get a spurt of energy. I would run around an 11 minute pace for what felt like an eternity. However, my watch told me otherwise. Some stretches would be close to two miles. Others, not even one. I would then walk a bit, pee, and take a brief rest. So much peeing happened on this last leg.

We made it back to Damascus, where they had an actual bathroom, more salt/broth, and a toasty fire. This time, however, I knew I was going to continue. I propped my feet up on another chair and enjoyed some flames as I snacked. I could even enjoy some m&ms now without feeling like getting sick. Sara looked on concerned, but I was now confident. After a couple more minutes, we shot out of there, and I started running again.

Mile 84-ish. Are we actually smiling?

To keep my mind off of sleeping, I tried talking to Sara about the gates we were getting close to. She probably thought I was delusional because they weren’t showing up. However, I knew that had to be near. I vividly remember Vern running ahead to open one when I had a good rhythm going. Finally, I had some validation. We ran passed a few gates and then something glorious happened. The sun began to rise.

As it rose, so did my confidence. I was now no longer falling asleep. Sara keeps talking about how beautiful it was. All I remember was three feet in front of me --- rocks, dirt, and leaves. Between my moans and grunts, there was little time for sightseeing. I was focused, I remember thinking of Jake and Elwood saying they were “on a mission from God.” I chortled at my internal impersonation.
And then, I got in a groove. The sound of my pack mixed with the pounding cadence of my feet hypnotized me. I became a man possessed. Sara would talk, I would listen, sometimes making a noise to let her know I heard her. A few “I love you too’s” were muttered as I continued to thrash my way to the finish line.

With eight-ish miles to go, we were back at Avalarado. I sat down and enjoyed some food, broth, and either coffee or soda. Unfortunately, this would also be the last time I would see Becky. I took a longer rest than needed, but it felt good. I knew I was going to finish and was now starting to take it all in.

The next way point we simply waved to Vern and Mario. I continued to press on, passing the occasional runner here and there. This continued as we drew closer to the line. Ahh the finish line… where the heck is it? I’m actually running, and it is still not in sight! UGH!

Oh wait, there’s the bypass bridge under construction. The finish line is near. I think I can actually see it. I also see two guys that I am going to beat going down this hill towards the finish line.

I picked up the pace as I told Sara how close we were. Just around the next corner…. Nope, I was wrong. Oh well, keep running, it has to be the next corner. Welp, about four corners later, I saw a mass of people. No fancy blow-up arch, just some flags strewn between some trees and a pavilion. The remainder of my crew was also there. But more importantly, there was Jason, waiting to give me a big freaking hug!

Nomination for best hug ever?

Yup, that's me hugging Jason. We only met like 36 hours ago. Can you feel the love?

I joyously crossed the finish line, clenching another man like he was my long-lost mother. In a state of complete surrealness, I was then handed my buckle. Now rumor has it that in this moment, a strong stoic man like myself, that just completed 100 freaking miles, shed a tear. To clear the air, I must let myself be heard… YES! I cried a bit over a materialistic piece of apparel. And you know what, I have no shame in that.

To many, this belt buckle is just a piece of metal associated with a stupid idea. But for those who put in the work and kept grinding, it means so much more. The drive, the passion, the determination. All the hours of training and organizing of materials. The dedication of a team and the love of a second family. That’s what my buckle is. I will cherish it forever, and will probably be buried with me when I die. It is my first of its kind, and will probably NOT be my last, but only time will tell. As for now, I’ll be sneaking little peaks at my buckle when no one is looking, to relive the highs and to remember the lows. 

Exhausted and Elated! Man, I love this buckle.

Thanks to everyone for their love and support, especially our crew: Sara, Jennifer, Mario, Vern, Lisa, and Becky (and John for helping Becky out with everything while she was away!).

"I get by with a little help from my friends"

And finally, a VERY special “thank you” to Jeremy Sanders for planting the seed and getting us into the race. Without you, I would never know what I was truly capable of.

If you enjoyed this recap, please consider visiting www.forlucas.com and making a donation to the Lucas Fund. While you’re at it, check out Jeremy’s blog at www.runningdad.com. He is full of information, tips, and other race recaps. Plus, he’s a pretty cool dude.

Studly, if I may say so myself