Rocky Raccoon 100M
Close to four years later, I’ve finally re-opened my race write-up. I’m still trying to process the rollercoaster of emotions and physical exertion I experienced during my first 100-mile race.
How It All Started: Depending on who you ask, some might say I suggested the idea of running 100 miles, but it feels more like a group decision. The idea sprouted while crewing for my dad’s Leadville 100. After talking about doing a long ride or another national park run, I half-jokingly mentioned running 100 miles if John would do it too. That sparked momentum, and before I knew it, we were all signed up for the Rocky Raccoon 100.
Fighting Injuries: 2019 was filled with injuries, mainly because I didn’t respect my body’s limits in 2018. Despite the setbacks, I kept doing events like the R2R2R and Silver Rush 50, pushing through pain. Papa nudged me to find a coach, someone to hold me accountable and teach me the importance of rest. After hours of research, I found David Roche, but he referred me to Zoë, a fiery coach with an adventurous spirit.
Training & Patience: Training with Zoë was a long lesson in patience. We started slow - really slow - because my knee pain flared if I ran too fast. I worked with a physical therapist who told me my right glute was only firing 25% of the time. The months that followed were full of highs and lows, injury setbacks, and slow but steady progress. Zoë kept adjusting my plan and always remained optimistic, and over time, I learned to trust the process. Even when things were tough, we always found a way to laugh through it.
Race Day: 4:20 am wake-up call. After my breakfast of tea, a bagel with almond butter, and some yogurt, Seb and I joked, “24 hours from now, we’ll be one hour away from finishing.” We packed up and rode with Papa and Poppy to the start line, our nerves tempered by laughter. As the race started, Seb and I agreed on a steady .1-mile walk / .4-mile jog strategy, knowing the goal was to pace ourselves carefully.
The first 25 miles flew by - Seb and I were strategizing, feeling good, and seeing Papa at each aid station kept our spirits high. At around mile 34, we realized we had slipped 30 minutes behind our sub 24 hour goal, but we kept our focus on finishing, knowing speed wasn’t everything.
The Middle Grind: By mile 50, we were thrilled to see Matt, who would pace us. However, our pace continued to drop, and by mile 65, I felt a sharp pain behind my knee that forced me to take things slower. Seb stuck with me despite my urging him to go ahead for the sub-24 goal. As we reached mile 75, reality set in - we weren’t going to hit the 24 hour mark, but the focus was now on simply finishing.
The Dark Hours: With Mike and Matt joining us, we continued pushing through the darkness, using humor and teamwork to keep going. The mental fatigue was the real battle. At one point, I found myself sleepwalking and Matt had to guide me using my pack like a steering wheel to keep me from falling. The last stretch before the sunrise was tough - my mind drifted to questions about why I was even running 100 miles, but I fought through the negativity with Mike’s support.
Sunrise & The Final Push: At 6:45 am, the sun finally rose, and it felt like a new chapter. The golden light lifted our spirits, and tears came as I realized the darkness, both literal and mental, was behind me. By the time we reached Damnation, we were in a rhythm of walking and jogging, pushing toward the finish with renewed energy. Despite the fatigue, the sunrise gave us the mental boost we needed to finish the race.
Reflection: Running 100 miles is about so much more than just covering the distance. It’s a test of persistence, resilience, and learning to let go of the little things. It taught me to create expectations for myself, believe in my capabilities, and stay grateful for what my body and mind can endure. Above all, it was a journey shared with friends, family, and an incredible support crew that helped me cross the finish line.