The MCAT Ultra

Thursday, August 24, I completed possibly one of the hardest exams I have ever taken. After 7:03 tedious hours, I had ended my life long streak of #NeverStopStudying. For now...

The journey to the finish is never what we anticipate when we take the first step. It is fraught with obstacles and surprise hardships. However, we always seem to come out triumphant in our efforts and with more knowledge of our selves. And that is the ultra way.

Like most long races, we build a base of endurance and tolerance. From April until June, I reviewed every concept in science and math I had ever learned: psychology, sociology, chemistry both general and organic, biology, biochemistry, physics, and more. During this, I was working full time. I am actually grateful, in some ways, that I had torn my calf in March. For it allowed me to wake up at 4 am to study until 7, before working and to have time in the evenings to also take comprehension tests. I had been training to compete at Lavaredo but I simply underestimated the amount I would need to give to my books. All in all, during these months I would work & study about 65-75 hours per week, with no time for the trails. I also doubt the 50lb weight limit would apply to my books alone if I had travelled to Italy.

Quality WS cheerleading

Visiting Rory!

I eventually took June-August mostly off and only worked 1-2 days per week. Initially, when planning the year, I had aspirations of camping nearly every day, running long mountain miles, and studying my textbooks by the campfire under the trees. However, like most things in life, the reality is entirely different than what we expect. Given my injury recovery, I was barely running at all. And most of my studying lasted 8+ hours on days off of work, usually requiring cell service. For some time, I was getting out for "long runs" the Sunday evening after I would finish a 7 hour practice exam. When it got down to the wire, even this dissipated into loops around Seattle. I had deleted all of my social media apps except for Instagram, and I longingly followed my friends' adventures, experiences and excursions. It was frustrating at times, but I don't regret the sacrifice. 

Geting ready!

In the course of 50 miles or longer, it is almost inevitable that we have lows and doubt ourselves. This was perhaps my biggest struggle. I had days where I couldn't remember simple concepts for the life of me. Or that I just didn't understand what was meant by the information presented. The frustration by my lack of progress (and sleep), despite trying my absolute best, wrecked my confidence. This frustration created so much doubt and anxiety that I would struggle through my weekly practice exams. Unable to focus, I would score poorly and reinforce the doubt. It was almost cyclical and impossible to rid myself of. However, I armed myself against this and comforted my thoughts by knowing I was doing absolutely everything in my power to pursue this. I let the passion, desire, curiosity for knowledge guide me in my studies and fuel my determination. This was what I wanted more than anything and I was not going to be apathetic or complacent in my pursuits.

I found many new ways to study and really incorporate the MCAT into my life. I listened to Kahn Academy videos (Sal I love you) on my runs and would pause them so that I could quiz myself. Yes, I realize I must have seemed like a crazy person muttering about theta this times that is the torque of whatnot and gesturing wildly with my arms. I would find review sites/blogs and take notes on their notes and then make flashcards with the headers. With these flashcards, I would lie in my bed at night and try to discuss everything I knew about the topics. I took pictures of the comprehension tests or practice passages and completed these during any break I would have at work. I tried to relate patients and people in my life to psychology disorders/ stages of development. I lived and breathed this test.

The week of the test finally came, albeit much faster than I anticipated. Eerily, I felt calm. I knew I had done a great deal of work and exhausted my capabilities to prepare myself to reach my potential. I was emboldened knowing I had no regrets or "shoulda coulda woulda's." In a way, my test was like the penultimate ultra race. I tapered off of studying and just relaxed; reviewing the occasional notecards and sleeping lot. I prepared my "race kit" of my lucky T shirt, lucky Superman underwear, "Carpe The Fuck Out of This Diem" socks, slippers and my bag of goodies the day before. On test day, I woke up after a fitful night and ran in the dark to Meredith Grey's house for a quick adrenaline shake out. I drank my coffee, ate my breakfast and drove to the start (test center). I had packed all kinds of snacks and peppermint tea hydration for the allotted breaks. Each time I entered the test room, I had to pass security more stringent than TSA: I was fingerprinted three times, my ID checked, my glasses were inspected, a metal detector wand, and my "suspicious" friendship bracelet had to be cut off.

The first section is always my worst: chemistry and physics, and it was really, really hard. I tried not to let this shake my resolve and to remain calm. I exited the room looking like a stunned deer in headlights: wide eyed and difficult to collect my thoughts. I spent the ten minute break breathing deeply and meditating. I thought of my favorite Eminem/Sia songs and used them as a mantra. I went into the reading & comprehension section ready for more. That one was uneventful and I spent the longer 30 minute break after gearing up for my favorite and best sections: Biology & biochem and psychology & sociology. These flew by and buoyed my confidence. I felt intelligent and prepared with careful consideration for each answer selected. When I finally finished the test, 7:03 hours later, I got into the front seat of my car and cried. The sobbing was mixed with intermittent hysterical laughing; I do not know how to surmise the waves of emotions that flooded over me. It was indescribable. I quickly dried my tears and changed to my running clothes. I sprinted through 6 miles around the area on a local bike path. I kept trying to push faster, faster to help dissipate the building adrenaline. I screamed out at the halfway mark. I skipped around mile 5. I really just couldn't contain myself anymore.

post practice exam respite

I spent the rest of the weekend with my good friends celebrating a birthday in Disneyland. Making the trip down to LA was awesome and we had such a good time. Other than my excessive "nerd vomit" (ie calculating my gravitational potential energy and the max velocity on Splash Mountain or the centripetal force of the Teacups ride), I almost forgot that I will not have my scores for another month.  The waiting game will be difficult, but I am so happy that it is (sort of) over. I can finally relax and be a real person.

I am truly so lucky to have had the opportunity to study and prepare for this exam. My work has been super accommodating to let me take time off and still hold my job. My family, friends, previous classmates, the doctors I work for, and many people have all wished me the very best and tried to help in any way they could. I am so grateful to really have a squad stand behind me while I'm chasing my dreams. It's never easy and the journey is far from over, but I am very fortunate to have the kind of encouragement I do in all my pursuits. Now, happy trails!

I can finally Stop #NeverStopStudying... for now...

Black out or Get out

Whoop there it is. I am officially done with every undergrad class I ever need to take. Forever. However, as I like to say, #NeverStopLearning. I will soon be embarking on the wonderous journey that is studying for the MCAT. And soon after that, I will be able to apply to medical school. It's a long and arduaous path, one that has been forged many times by others- often unsuccessful, but will be my most challenging yet and I hope to come out on top.


Can't. Stop. Staring.
PC Steph Howe

ITALIAN GELATO MONSTER RAWR

Whilst bush wacking through textbooks and navigating through countless hours of practice tests, I will also be adventuring my face off. Gotta let out that creative energy and steam somehow...


Last summer I got the smallest taste of what the PNW has to offer; it was really just the tip of the iceberg. I have been dreaming all winter of skinny dipping in moraine lakes, scrambling high ridgelines, hugging innumerable trees, and picking every wildflower that blooms my way. While running to work through the urban jungle at zero dark thirty, primarily in the pouring rain, I have envisioned myself tanning amongst the mountain goats. I am particularly looking forward to falling asleep under the stars to lullabies of marmot whistles or elk bugles. Morning coffee tastes best with the cool, crisp sunshine illuminating the mountain views from my sleeping bag.

Doggie kisses sharing chocolate PB s'mores
PC Steph Howe

I have a great schedule of events lined up this summer:
-Travelling to the Italian Dolomites to camp all of June (including my 23rd birthday!) culminating in the Lavaredo Ultra Trail race on the 24th.

-After Lavaredo, I will be backpacking through the Julian Alps of Slovenia to return to the US on the 4th of July

-various big alpine days in the Olympic Natl Park & North Cascades Natl Park, some of my favorite remote areas

-the "PNW Triple Crown"- stay tuned ;)

-MCAT exam August 24. (yeeps!)

-"Ultra Trail du Mont Rainier" in September, a circumnavigation along the Wonderland Trail for my first "hundo" (93 miles, but yeah I'm rounding up)




Always studying. Anywhere. Anytime.
PC Steph Howe

Through all of this, I will largely be out of cell service and will delete my social media apps (except Instagram, because I love photography). If you wanna reach me, you can call me, beep me, email, or just follow my Insta/blog adventures. (@run_kels_run).










In my well lit, no cell service hole. #inwoods
PC Aimee Tetreault

I have decided to take a black out, because I get very distracted by all the glamour and discussions posted. I do enjoy seeing what others are up to, but I need to put my head down and focus on the task at hand. It'll be a grind, but so worth it. While at my job, I am interacting with doctors everyday, and this further reinforces my MD dreams, which is more important than anything I could otherwise be doing. I strive to be as transparent and authentic as possible, so I apologize in advance if this is a compromise. However, just know I will be working hard somewhere in the middle of nowhere, either running uppity up big mountains or working my flexor digitorum superficialis/flexor pollicis longus turning the pages of my MCAT books.

Question Madness

The North Face is celebrating the 50th anniversary. Though, I have not even been around for half of that time, it is inspiring to see the expeditions and progress that has been made as the brand reminisces on it's journey. It is also fascinating to see the new adventures and limits pushed by the athletes as they jump into the unknown future. Here are my thoughts with a storytelling exercise they have been promoting:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayv41ZmNWtk

Why live a life that’s perceived as mad? As Jack Kerouac so aptly put it, “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’”.

Most of the world spends their time maintaining boundaries of safe, conventional, inconspicuous lifestyles that conform to set norms. With stringent social policies governing our actions, starting early in our formative years, individuality and risks are squashed; the teenager that enjoys solitude outdoors rather than on the football team is isolated. Our parents, through love and care, seek to protect us constantly in the face of danger, as we are often scooped up into their arms right before jumping off the monkey bars. Even evolution’s Natural Selection strikes fear into our chest as we peer over the cliff’s edge and hesitantly plant our feet farther back. However, with every aspect of our lives working against this infectious madness, we still break free of the boundaries towards the farther, higher, harder, and unknown.

 I live my life through passion. My affinity for the outdoors and pursuing new sights to behold is fueled by a captive wonder of nature’s intricacies. My academic zeal sets the tone for my curiosity of what the human body can accomplish physiologically. My manic desire for dreaming big is constantly churning creative adventures in the recesses of my mind, one that can push my mental attitude deeper than most would be willing. I consciously choose pain, discomfort, “to suck the marrow out of life” (Thoreau) than the sheltered vanilla. I may appear to be conforming to the mundane: commuting, working, studying, and exercising; but my goals far exceed reality: I want the prestigious accolades of medical school and to run longer, farther & faster. I have always been set apart from my peers at university or in the workplace to pursue my athletics & academics. I am repeatedly foregoing social interactions and expectations, but I wouldn’t have it any other way as it can be a raging party of one. Sometimes I would wake as early as 3:45 am in order to train in the mountains before heading to work, after which I would spent the evening hours poring over textbooks, only to repeat again and again. This kind of lifestyle did not allow for attendance of prom afterparties or frat beer pong Olympics. Often, I am completing these tasks solo, save for the company of a few quality friends.

 I am mostly asked “why”, as the people around me do not understand what drives a person to live like this. I usually cannot answer why exactly, but feel it as I stand next to an impossibly tall tree while sweat drips down my cheek onto the smooth dirt of my favorite trail crunching below. As I gaze out at a vast expanse of beauty unfolding before me, I rejoice in the unknown and untouched land, save for the vibrant wildlife inhabitants. That fleeting moment where the golden sunlight illuminates my tango with the dancing shadows echoes throughout my dreams. The wind blowing through my hair, the flower crushed in my pocket, and the tight strain in my filthy legs rejuvenates me. Being brought to my knees after emptying the whole of my being running farther and faster than I ever have imagined brings a whimsical smile to my face. Tender moments that we, as explorers, are privy to stumble across are why & what we spend a lifetime chasing. Sometimes, though, I am tired, and would rather stay home than walk out the front door. But the will to be much greater than I am keeps me both intrinsically motivated and intrinsically satisfied. I always tell myself: This is my passion. This is what I strive for. This is madness.

Couch to 100km. #NeverStopSmiling

Shuffle run. 3 minutes. Walk. 1 minute. Shuffle again. Finally I reach a bench. I sit down and glare at the glistening Lake and watch the moon & street lamp cast shadows along the path. It's a beautiful, warm night and I'm finally able to somewhat run after 2.5 weeks confined to the couch. Yet, I can't appreciate the serenity and stillness of 10:48 pm. Instead, many self- deprecating thoughts encircle my mind. Why did you move here? You don't have any friends here. 2.5 weeks on the couch has made you fat. Why can't you actually get through a training cycle? You're dumb enough to have hopes of fulfilling your goals this year? Who are you kidding, this sucks. Running is stupid.

Warning. Melted crayons in mountains may not be potable.

I stood up and started the trot back. Why am I thinking this? Champions don't sell themselves short. People that go after their dreams have to start somewhere. Don't freaking feel sorry for yourself; that's what losers do. Failing is on the road to success. It felt as though both sides of the coin were sitting on my shoulders, tearing my consciousness apart. It was an endless cycle of feeling lazy, then guilty, then motivated, then apathetic.

1 month later I stood on the start line of the Waldo 100k. I honestly had no idea what to expect. I originally entered the lottery with pie in the sky dreams of winning the race. I actually imagined crossing the line, what I would do with my arms, and hugging Meghan triumphantly. When I stood next to friends in the darkness, I wondered if I would even be able to finish.

Pre race done right.

With two weeks of knowing I would definitely race, Meghan gave me all sorts of tips and I prepared myself mentally for a long battle. She instructed me to run the first half with my HRM and take it easy. Since I haven't worn one of those chafe-traps in forever- let alone longer than 6 miles, I was apprehensive about following it for 30 miles. Nevertheless, I lubed up and chugged up the first climb.

Loping along the singletrack in the early, pink light, I felt free and happy. It was as though I was a doe bounding through the woods (my spirit animal), and again, I let myself imagine what it would be like to bound along the final three Rosary lakes feeling like this.

My friends are amazing.

I made it up to Fuji Mtn and saw a glorious audience of mountains and felt even more rejuvenation. Meghan was at the top and greeted me with a big smile & I forget who I knuckle punched, but it was awesome. Coming back down, I was smiling and dancing, seeing all my friends in the race. It was pretty fantastic. Soon, I caught up with Andrea Thorpe (she witnessed a fun bush sesh- sorry again!) and Ken Sinclair right as we entered the Mt Ray aid station. Despite being in that ideal HR range, I was feeling pretty jazzed up, especially listening to the Chicago Broadway soundtrack and I bolted out of there. I was pretty much alone the rest of the way; I would catch up to some guys, hang with them for 100-400m or so, then be on my merry way.

Chloe. Sorry boys she's taken.

I knew I was in second place at this point, and couldn't understand how; I was just waiting for hordes of people to pass me. All morning I was sticking to my tried and true (thanks stephanie) plan of 1 gel every 20-30 minutes. I even had a watch beep just for the occasion. All of a sudden, my stomach decided it was joining the Olympic diving team, and started doing triple backflips. Long story short, from miles 27 to 41 I was puking. Nothing I could eat or drink could stay down. Now, I blame myself for all my alpine excursions, drinking from alpine streams and lakes unfiltered and eating questionable chicken the friday before. I don't blame the heat, because I never actually felt hot during the day. (I'm sure I looked REAL hot puke-running though. Boys on the course, if you didn't get my number, leave a comment below).

Before. PC LongRun

After. Sums up the day quite nicely. PC LongRun

In my mind, I thought of how badass Rory Bosio was with severe food poisoning during BOTH the Atacama Xtreme 100 & Lavaredo Ultra. I tried to channel her and do things with a smile. Because hey, if you're smiling, then things are alright. And, I reasoned that I was coherent (still singing T swift) and able to keep running, so I did.

Couch snuggles with Riley!

To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings- sure they were beautiful, but I was just watching the miles tick by and rationing out what food I could stomach over time. I kept imagining Stephanie rolling her eyes at my pathetic attempt at getting in calories. The one solid thing I remember in that stretch were the aid stations. Coming into Charleton lake, I was greeted by a raucous party. I saw many loving friends and back flopped into the glimmering waters (damn I wish it would float me away in a current). The same applied to the others- wonderful people treating me so well before kicking my butt back into the forest.

I kept running. I didn't know how it was possible and I was still incredulous that I was doing this, and doing this in second place. There MUST have been a fire breathing dragon blocking the trail from Andrea and the others... I watched my watch tick past 50 miles, the longest I've run since White River 50 mile, a whole year plus before. At this point, my body was starting to cramp up from dehydration & lack of calories. But nothing was stopping me. I KNEW it was possible to get to the finish line. I reasoned with the same logic as before; just keep moving and doing what you can with what you've got. I plastered a smile over my grimace- because smiles can do anything. (Must've looked like SUCH a lunatic). Soon enough, I came to the Maiden Peak aid station, where I had volunteered last year. They gave me a popsicle and cheered me up to the summit. I knew these last 12 miles- Monkeyboy took me on a bonkalicious death march the summer prior. It was just 3 more miles of up and then down.

Best Friends! At Trampled By Turtles

Up at the summit, the cramping turned to pain. I was embraced by Kim at the top and I almost started crying in her arms. But she pushed me away down the mountain before any tears fell. Like I told myself a month ago on the park bench, I would not cry. I have come so far and gone through too much in the last year that the crying was over. I was chasing AND getting my dreams, so I had to smile.

I love the Queen! PC LongRun

I smile-grimaced, laugh-shouted through utter anguish on the leap of faith. Woof, man. That just did me in. The rest of the way was all downhill, unlike how I remembered it from my run with MB. My knees felt like someone was unscrewing them with a dull knife. My calf & feet felt like they were being incinerated. Yet, I kept moving. I knew if I stopped, it needed to be at the finish line. I kept calculating and recalculating the time left and wondered if I'd ever get to the side path from the PCT.

LB getting his WS qualifier PC LongRun Pic Co

I was running like a baby cow with three legs taking it's first steps, but I realized I was going to finish. And I let myself acknowledge that I'd get second place. I immediately, in classic fashion, fell down and started sobbing. I had withheld so much and gutted through so much pain to get to the finish that it finally came flooding out. It was quite an embarrassing scene as the ski patrol medics carted me off in a wheelchair (totally unnecessary- I was broken but I could've probs just shuffled).

Chloe get er done. PC Golden Mama Elke

I feel so so fortunate to finish this race surrounded by so many integral members of my friend group. Meghan- basically my more-than-running-life-coach, was the RD and got me to BOTH lines; she also has introduced me to her friend group, which basically hunted on a saturday in oregon rather than a tuesday in auburn. There were really too many people to name that were amplifying the stokage that weekend. I will say, I really owe a lot of my mental strength to my beautiful friend Chloe Romero, who was a certifiable badass finishing the race; she sent me flowers with a note saying "Stay gritty" during a pretty bleak period. Stephanie Howe is always such an inspiration & best friend, and just by sending a text saying "you can do anything you set your heart & mind to" really stuck with me, hard. And then I got to go to a concert with her & Zach in Bend and wake up with ocean rolls on her birthday!!! (Felt like more of a present to me than it probs did to her, ha!) Thank you to my super rad sponsors for supporting me with all the miles (The North Face, Julbo USA, Sisu Girls, Victory Sportsdesign). Additionally, all the various people back at home that believe in me, I'm truly grateful. Sometimes it's hard to believe in myself, but having such a lovely community, really makes me smile. And that's all I need.

Next up.

How Deep Is Your Love?

This year started off better than ever. January I put in one of the best training blocks I had ever thought to accomplish. Running splits in workouts faster than I even thought I could, surprising myself continuously every Tuesday. Followed up with back to back epic long runs. Then in February I was sidelined with an awful back injury. It came out of nowhere and quickly turned all my plans and goals for the year on their head. Black Canyon 100k ended at mile 20 with my second DNF (2nd in a row, too, to add insult to the previous six months of injury & rebuilding). But that story was already told...

Bishop's Peak. My new favorite workout arena.

I hit PT hard. Pilates, weights, squats, one day off mandatory per week... I came back gradually. So gradual, it felt unbearable. I checked all the boxes and crossed all my t's. I was becoming really strong from the cross training and had a good base. Soon, I was crushing some of my runs. It felt really, really good. So I got comfortable. Cruising up the coastal mountains and gliding over technical trails, I had grins bigger than a Cheshire cat pasted on my face. Things started to look up and I dreamt up some big ideas.

I'd follow Loren Fisher anywhere in the world.

Three weeks ago I started to feel very tired. My runs seemed to be dragging and I accounted that to lack of sleep. Then when I took a 3 hour nap after class inadvertently (after sleeping 10 hours the night before), I knew something was up. Of course my mind went immediately to Lyme Disease. It presents like mono and I have had it before. Some days that week I couldn't run. I was sleeping a lot and missing out on daily activities. I got a blood test and that came back negative for Lyme (thank god). but I had low ferritin. Stephanie told me that anemia only occurs when low ferritin is in combination with low RBCs. But I was still SO tired. Biking two miles to school I felt like I was going to pass out from exertion. I started taking iron anyways.


The anguish and frustration set in. I wasn't myself and I was stressed. I hated how the act of standing up from my desk caused fatigue and light headedness. I didn't even want to go to class most days, as waking up seemed almost impossible. I was an endurance athlete! We push our bodies for HOURS... DAYS even!

I have a journal I write messages to myself of various sorts.

I went to visit my best friend Loren and her boyfriend, Chad, up in Bishop over the weekend. She was car camping, skiing, running, climbing, and adventuring for the entire month of April. We had made plans to run up White Mountain, a 14er that we had both yet to check off The List. I took my boyfriend Zach with me. We climbed in Owen's River Gorge, he got to mountain bike, we hiked at Convict Lake, he learn to glissade on Esha Peak, camp, soaked in hot springs, and we did a light jog (read: 15 min max for me). It was a perfect weekend. However, being at 9000' made me feel like I was at 18,000'. I accidentally took a parking lot nap while they played on Esha. I was thoroughly disappointed I couldn't play in the mountains as hard as I wanted to. I felt bad because I was probably holding him and the group back, too.

Hiking in the Gorge

So this week, I planned to start running. I wanted desperately to be back on the damn horse. I decided I had been sucking for far too long and that was that. Of course I then get a kidney infection. Super fun. Hit again with more fatigue and an aching back, I was sidelined for a couple more days. As my roommate Ashley says, Nerts. I got on antibiotics and that helped a ton (I have more to say on the subject of antibiotics vs nothing, aka stupidity). I immediately started to feel human by Thursday. I even went on a 20 minute run! (with about 3 stop breaks) So, progress. I was determined and regained some hope. I was excited to run and get back on the trails. I even went to the gym Saturday! I have energy and a smile has started to creep back on my face.

Froyo solves all the world's problems

Wednesday was a different story, though. At around 3 pm I totally lost it. The anxiety, frustration, depression, and general crapiness had been slowly rolling inside; turning over and over. I felt royally of crap and people treated me like crap that day. The pot boiled over; I hit my breaking point. It seemed like every part of my body was failing me. I was sad and anguished over the mess of it all. I had already wiped my 2016 drawing board clean and rebuilt ground-up several times since last July. I didn't want to go through that again, especially this soon. It seemed like I couldn't catch a break. Face down on the floor, I hated myself. I hated everything about what I was doing at the moment. The people at my school, the small town with no forests, my boring intro classes, but mostly I hated my body... I have such big dreams and aspirations, but seem to be failing every time I set my sights on something with one health issue after another. I was doing everything right in my eyes. The feeling of helplessness and ineptitude took hold. I didn't want to text Stephanie because I knew exactly what she would say. I just wanted to wallow in it all.

No caption needed.

Thursday morning I biked to school and was listening to my tunes. I was gripping the handlebars a little tighter than usual and had a grimace on my face ("resting bitch glare"). If looks could kill... On shuffle, my ipod came up with the Calvin Harris song, How Deep Is Your Love. To preface this, every song on my running playlist has a purpose: they are upbeat, funny, joyful, and have a mantra of sorts. The line "Hit me harder, again. How deep is your love?"... well... it hit me hard. I thought about how you have to dig deep and really battle yourself more than anything in this sport. The mind is the most dangerous opponent. Physical obstacles are just roadblocks that sideline us. But the questioning, doubting, and fear they instil is incomparable. In the psyche, this has two outcomes: either takes you down into a irrevocable spiral or makes you stronger for it while lighting a fire. Listening to the techno beat, I decided for the latter.

I still feel wildly out of shape (I know fitness is there, it's just hiding). I'm trying really hard not to lose it again and be smart. It's hard and the mental Olympics are even harder. I have some goals and I will make them happen. It's still, after all, only May. I know my body is a fierce fighter through all these issues and I have been incredibly lucky. So I'm going to keep fighting. I guess I should start playing the Grateful Game again, huh Steph?

"So tell me how deep is your love, can you go deeper?"

TNF Chile. My First 100 Miler. My First DNF.

"The first cut is the deepest, baby, I know..."-- Sheryl Crow.

Friday, October 16, 11:13 pm. No, no, we couldn't possibly be going up there. We should have turned downhill by now. Oh cool, look at this blue rock...

25 minutes later... I stood knee deep in snow and the cool, wind whistled around me, blowing my braids in my mouth. Spitting out a wad of hair, I looked up. The white cinta, or markers, had been swallowed by the mountain, along with my willpower. I only knew that I had to continue trudging up by the fluorescent orange jacket and click-clack of poles making their way up, up up into the thinning air.

What seemed like eons away, in some other life, was the bustling of anxious nerves, strong and leathered legs, and flashing headlamps gathered around a rope. Looking out at the twinkling lights of Santiago, I made a concerted effort to focus on my breathing. I stood picking at my sparkling nailpolish, simultaneously fully expectant and completely oblivious to what lay ahead. Soon, the small, intimate group of men and women around me started counting down in Spanish. People with flashing cameras crowded in around us. I wondered if they were going to move, we would stampede them, or we simply would not start. Zeroooooo! The tape went up, the cameras moved aside, and we took off. Very quickly, I found myself bent over with my hands on my quads moving upwards into the unknown. This was the position I would be in most of the day...


September 6, 8:20pm. To Meghan Arbogast: "I have confidence that I can finish 100 miles in October. It'll be tough and I won't run as much as I should if I was 100%. But I had May and June and most of July. And those were great months. And I'm getting to be a good hiker. I thought about it all day. I can do what I can until I can't. Then I can hike"

From the get go, I was hiking. Through the darkness, I tried avoiding sharp, low-hanging branches, and cautiously used my hands to scramble over rocks. I tried making small talk with the men grunting around me, but nobody was listening. Perhaps they were listening to Taylor Swift. I made a mental note to ask Stephanie if she had my headphones, as I had seemingly forgotten them. Drat. Oh well, maybe this would be good for personal development, or I can study for physiology...

The ridgeline kept moving upwards, I wondered when it would end. Mira! A man shouted behind me. I stopped, turned around, and stood gazing at the most incredible sunrise I had seen. The lights of Santiago, were still twinkling through the hazy fog. Green waves of ridges rose from the depths of the fog until they disappeared into the snow-capped peaks of the Andes. The sky, bluer by the minute, cast orange & pink-mixed rays of light onto the mountains. They looked warm, inviting, and sparked a love in my heart. I smiled, then continued upwards, still stealing glances of wonderous joy at those far, far away mountains.

Fresh as Daisies!

The trail, after 5 miles, finally topped out onto a grassy field. The sky was still getting brighter when I switched off my headlamp. I followed the leader down through cow fields. Weaving through trees, we mashed our feet into thick, globby mud. Mis pies estan pesados! I laughed, but nobody else joined me. Sigh.

I could hear the shouting before I could see them. Happily, I ran into the first AS where my energetic crew awaited me. Mario & Rocko from TNF South America, my mother & Stephanie Howe greeted me. Stephanie forced a Snickers bar into my hand, as she helped me load up on gels. It would be a while until I saw them again... Mario filled up my water bottles and told me the three women leaders were 13 minutes ahead. I didn't really care since we were 12k into a 160k race; I'll do my own thing and just focus on finishing.

Locked & loaded, I left. I started with gels every 20 minutes, just as Steph had instructed me to do, but they were not settling well. it took considerable effort to get one down. Hopefully the Snickers would be better...

The next mile or so, we ran through beautiful, green fields (again, not on an actual trail). Some sections, we were surrounded by tall, yellow mustard flowers and trees. My heart was so happy to see so much green, flowers, and trees! It took the edge off the discomfort of forcing down a Snickers bar... Soon, my stomach started really hurting. I took this as a sign that I should back off the pace and maybe walk for a bit. A woman came up behind me and asked me how I was doing and what was wrong. I said my stomach hurt and she offered me food, but I politely declined as I had a pack full of goop. She encouraged me to run with her and told me about herself. The language barrier was a bit steep, but I got to practice my Spanish. I told her she was the first person to talk to me all day, and she laughed. We got to a muddy hill surrounded by long-horned cows. I pointed and asked how to say what they were in Spanish. Vaca, she replied, and again, laughed at me. She and another Argentinian scooted up the hill past me, and I was left to myself.

Soon after PC1

Here is where things started to fall apart. Rolling, punchy climbs and steep, slippery descents, caused me to freak out. I was tired already and only 12 miles in. I started crying when it was time to eat another gel. F this. Where the hell am I. This is hard. How can I possibly do this?

Crying & stumbling, I made my way along the trail. Stupidly, I had forgotten to ask Stephanie for my headphones, so I was left with my thoughts- my own worst enemy. I sobbed as I sucked down a Gu and meandered down a trail-less, angry cow-filled grass hill. I sloshed through a stream of cold, ice melt and dragged myself up the hill. I saw a photographer in the distance and knew I would approach the second AS soon. I wiped my tears and put on a good face running in. The RD, Nick, and several new friends from the SA team were there and helped me refill my bottles with coke. (Yes, straight coke). They asked me how I was doing and I replied that I felt awful. Nick gave me some words of wisdom and told me to keep fighting. They cheered as I left and I felt renewed.

At AS2. The coca cola begins. PC Matias Bull

Bubbling with energy, I started running up the gradual slope. As the slope got steeper, the AS fading into memory, and the mud more slick, my energy gradually drained. I resumed a quiet cry and my hands-on-knees mountain-climbing pose. A man passed me and asked what was wrong. Again, I pointed to my stomach and he asked if he could help. No, I'm fine. And he disappeared above. Already, it was time to eat again and I groaned inwardly. I reached into my pack and found a Peanut Butter packet. At 200 kcal/packet, I only had to sip half of it per time chunk. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad and I could get it down without gagging. The combination of fizzy coke and hearty peanut butter must have done the trick because I made that next hour my b*tch.

I power hiked the shit out of that hill. I passed the man and he was shocked. Estas mejor?! Siiiiii was my reply as I began running the now-flatter part. I thought we were at the top. We had been climbing for four miles, so it must have been time...

The crew & Vero Bravo

But the white cinta kept leading me forward and up. A giant peak with snow towered in front of me. There was no way they would make us go up and over that thing. When I was close enough to make out brightly colored jackets against the snow, I gulped. The slope turned drastically steep and I assumed the "mountain-climbing position". There was no time for tears as it was very cold, and I was intensely focused on finding blue rocks under the snow. I found a couple and put them into my pack (Don't ask...). Soon, the snow got deep enough where I was hopping into other, previous runners' footprints as it was mid calf-knee deep. Soon, the summit came and I found two brave souls at the 3rd AS ready to help. I refilled with coke and took off downhill (finally).

Sucking the energy from flowers

The first two miles of the fire road downhill, was more like skate skiing through the snow. This was maybe the most fun I had all day, despite the fact that my hands were really cold and I had stupidly given my gloves to Stephanie at the first AS because it was not (required gear). Then the snow disappeared and we weaved our way down. I fell into pace with Pablo from Peru. His English was fantastic and we shared the entire downhill, talking and laughing. This was incredible. At Mile 12 I wanted to quit, but he kept me going and distracting me from those negative thoughts. His stories were awesome and I will definitely cherish those miles for a long time. The 20k downhill was actually more like 13.5m, but who's counting... I grabbed a golden poppy I saw on the side of the trail and put it in my braid. It made me think of all my friends in CA and how they would want me to keep going with a smile.


At about 52km into the race, I arrived at the 4th AS to see my amazing crew. I gave my rocks to Stephanie in exchange for those awful gels and refilled my bottles with more coke. They shooed me out and up before I had time to drop, which had been my plan. They said they'd be at the next AS, "just 10km away", and by the time I remembered how much I wanted to drop, I was too far up the hill and they had taken off.

Yup...

I began crying heading up the steep, technical, loose-dirt, cactus-filled, hateful hill. At some parts, it was so awful that I had to stop so I could cry a bit harder. Pablo soon passed me and told me to keep going and see him again. My mantra for this section was it was just 10km...

More false summits, some snow, and steep, narrow ridgelines later, I was at 11km and the AS was nowhere in sight. Pablo was ahead and I was sobbing uncontrollably as I stumbled down the hill. Tears clouded my eyes and I could not focus on where the steep, loose trail was going. Snowy Andes mountains and the ridges I was traversing, cut through the fog sharply all around me. I tried to fill my heart with the joy from those mountains I had felt so, so much earlier. It didn't work.

I thought about what I had told Meghan. I was so excited about my first 100 miler, this opportunity to see Chile, and to gain points for UTMB- an ultimate dream I have held intensely for the last five years. I believed so much in myself, it was incredible. I was confident and excited. At that point, high above Santiago, I was so supremely sucked of everything within me. I had been feeling so empty for so long, too. I had no will, no hope, no joy, no drive, no energy... nothing but tears and extreme disappointment. I knew it was over. I knew it was too much for me. Everything in my body ached and I was broken.

Pablo from Peru & some of the others before PC5 (Not my Pic)

Finally, I made it to the Aid Station. But my crew was not there. When I didn't see Stephanie's silver puffy jacket, a weight inside me dropped. I didn't think I could feel more low, but then I didn't underestimate how wrong I could be. I immediately sat down on the aid station and cried harder. With my face on the ground, I created mud with my tears. Pablo was there and sat to rub my back, comforting me. He told me it's just 10 more kilometers and the hill was just like the first we had come down together. Seeing as there was no way down other than to run, I slowly got up and ate a banana and filled my bottles, again, with coke (we're at 5L now consumed). I had run out of food about an hour and half previous to that AS. I made my way down the hill, which took a lot longer than promised and I half cried every time I wondered when I would see my mom and Stephanie.

The downhill ensued and I came to a highway. Police escorts led me across it and directed me to go up. I made my way from the highway through a couple neighborhoods. Without the course guides and white tape, I would have been completely lost. Soon, I was directed towards a small bridge and back to where the trail seems to have resumed. I craned my neck upwards to stare up at the rock before me. White tape waved in the wind, high, high up and I had my right hand holding the chain that had been bolted into the rock so I could make my way up. I let go of the chain, sat down next to the rock, and cried. Hard. A man soon came up behind me and urged me on. In Spanish, that I could barely understand, he told me just 1 km more after the short hill. He continued on ahead and I hauled my ass up that rock. With so many false corners, a continuous uphill, and more than 1 kilometer, I cried as I slowly walked. Out of nowhere, Rocko came bounding up the trail. He scooped me up into a giant embrace and I hugged him as if my life depended on it. After I had wiped snot and tears all across his shirt, he encouraged me to walk with him.

I love this girl more than chocolate.

We talked for a bit and he told me about his climbing. He was so encouraging and it lifted my spirits as much as it could. I told him we needed to run (as it wasn't that far away now) because I didn't want to get caught in the dark. The sun was beginning to set and cast a pink glow on the mountains behind me. I arrived into the AS and immediately fell into Stephanie's arms and told her, at halfway, I couldn't go on. I was absolutely petrified at the prospect of going farther, let alone into the night. I knew how long it would take, how much my body already hurt, and the idea of having zero distractions in the dark. Plus, the obstacles presented by the trail would be just that much more magnified at night. I sat down and cried. Since I hadn't eaten in around 2.5-3 hours, I downed as many pringles as I could. Shivering and crying, I knew it was done. My journey ended there. My mom encouraged me to get into Rocko's truck, where it was warmer out of the wind. That was the nail in the coffin for my DNF. At this point, I had stopped crying. There was nothing left.


Driving back to our hotel, I gazed out the window at the fiery, burning orange sunset sparking the tops of the snowy peaks. Soon, the peaks faded and skyscrapers replaced them. Several things led me to this failure: a giant buildup of caloric deficit and inability to consume anything, not being ready physically with little training after a comeback from injury. These multiplied and grew out of proportion as I emotionally and mentally lost it. With all of this, for my first hundred, given the course, it was way too hard. There was simply no way. I was not physically injured, but simply broken.


After, Stephanie and I got to tour Santiago through wine, Pisco, food, subway, chocolate, and a quest for wifi to study. We had a blast. She taught me what the Grateful Game is, and that's definitely helped put my bitter, disappointment over not finishing, into perspective. So I'm going to play:

-I'm grateful for amazing sponsors that would invite me to explore such a unique area and experience a completely different side of the world. The crew at TNF South America have been so hospitable and helped immensely to get me as far as I did.
-I have amazing people in my life encouraging me always- friends, family, professors... I am especially grateful for Meghan. She coaches me and helps me strive, to the best of my ability, for those far-out dreams I conjure late at night. She is more of a friend than a coach, at times, but always positively pushing me forward. Stephanie Howe has been an infinite source of last minute advice, tips, and companionship. I am so lucky to have had her with me and as a friend. My family is always infallible, bottom line.
-The people I met were so, so lovely. They went out of their way to help me, despite running 100 miles themselves. The camaraderie and love I experienced was unlike anything else; I will hold onto those precious moments.
-I got to the starting line healthy and I finished half of the course without serious injury. I am grateful for a working, healthy, strong body.

HERE is the Pre Race Preview provided by Matias Bull of TrailChile.
HERE is the course review by TrailChile
HERE is the post run write up by Kit Fox & Red Bull.
HERE is my Strava data (I had missed a couple miles due to stopping my watch & time includes sitting at the end)
HERE is the race website- I HIGHLY recommend this race. It is beautiful, well put on, and awesomely hard for those wanting a challenge.

Congrats to all those who had finished the race! Bravo!