Bittersweet

100 Miles or bust...bust.

Ali and I left for Natchez around 12 on Friday. After catching the tail end of the captain's meeting for Relay for Life, we headed to the hotel for a few hours rest before I began running.

I caught about an hour and a half of sleep before I woke myself up with butterflies in my stomach. I tried to mellow out with my iPod, but the weight of the feat ahead of me was fully on my shoulders. When we finally all met up at the head of the Trace, my spirits were slightly higher as we began running.

Ali had the first shift paralleling me on the bike and soon Pat showed up and he too ran with me. The beginning of the run was very surreal. It was hard to believe that it was actually starting. All the work and effort was culminating to this day.

For the first 32 miles I was having trouble getting into a groove. I never felt like my pace was completely dialed in and I was tired and forcing myself through wall after wall. I was very nervous and scared that maybe things weren't going to come to fruition like I had planned. I was also fighting the urge to vomit.

After mile 32 we began making scheduled stops every 5 miles. I would catch up with the chase vehicle and eat, change shoes and socks, whatever I needed. Now I was cooking with gas. I was feeling great. My spirits were soaring, I was moving at a steady clip that I felt in control of, and any discomfort in my stomach or legs was bearable.

True trouble reared its ugly head at mile 42. Pat went ahead of me to get things ready at the chase car so I wouldn't have to stop for long. When I caught up I sat on the back the truck to rest and eat, but had an incredible urge to vomit. I stood up to walk away and vomit, but didn't make it far. I passed out and hit the ground hard. I vaguely remember being helped back to the truck, but never really came around until a few minutes later. I was sitting on the ground and couldn't remember how I got there. My team looked calm and collective (I later learned they were quite nervous), but I was freaking out. I was remarkably incoherent.

They got me back on the truck where I promptly began throwing up. Then something very odd happened. We would figure out later that it was because of a drop in my blood pressure, but I was beginning to go blind. I couldn't see the people around me or the truck I was sitting on. Pat looked at me, very nervously, and said that he was about this close from taking me into the emergency room. I was terrified.

I ended up crawling into the back of the truck and sleeping for about two hours to see if I could regain any energy and clear my head. When I woke up at dawn my head was clearer and I did feel rested, but it was clear that I didn't have the energy I needed. In addition to everything else, vomiting had cleared my stomach of valuable nutrition. The race was over.

I'm irritated, obviously, that I didn't finish. However, there are a few things to take into consideration. First, it was never about the run. It was about raising money for the American Cancer Society (we are close to $5,000). Second, stopping was the right and safe thing to do. I had pushed through wall after wall, but this wasn't a wall. It was my body hitting the 'reset' button. Finally, not finishing was not a product of not being in shape. If I hadn't been in shape, I probably would have gradually declined until I was too tired to move. That didn't happen. I was strong right up to a certain point. Something triggered in my body and began shutting systems down. I was ready. Sometimes, there are just things beyond your control. I honestly believe that's what happened this day.

It sucks, but we did what we came to do...raise money and cancer awareness. A final thought, lets not assume that I'm finished with this challenge just yet. I am contemplating a final scenario, but still need to think about it and discuss it with the rest of the team. I'll write again later. I have many more thoughts about this run and want to share them all.

Run hard.