Heartland 100 2020, Running with Joy at an Actual Race

The Heartland 100 is put on in Cassoday, Kansas, a town of less than 200 people. What intrigued me most about the race was the openness of the landscape (I love running in open spaces)! The race is 99% gravel roads and 1% pavement and is an out –and- back. The race is also small. I do not know if this is a normal occurrence or if it was Covid related, but in the 100 miler there were only 37 participants. The race also hosts a 125 miler, a 100k, 50 miler, 50k, and marathon. Between all of the events there were maybe 150 people registered, the perfect amount for 2020. Although I signed up for Heartland back in January and every other race I registered for this year was cancelled, I still struggled with the decision of whether or not it was right to run. Could I travel to Kansas safely and keep the people I see on a daily basis safe from Covid? After a little deliberation I decided to go for it. I took my Mom with me and we packed all of our own food. We would not dine out, we would drive to Kansas, and we would wear a mask and social distance the entire trip. The only unknown was how to race during Covid, I knew I could figure it out.

The race started at 6am on Saturday, October 10th at an old high school in Cassoday. By old, I mean old… like, a rundown brick building inhabited by mice. All events except for the marathon started at 6am but I still did not feel crowded or unsafe. In fact, I felt this overwhelming sense of happiness. I think that so many people were just so happy to run that you could feel the energy in the air. In fact, the energy was so light that some of us almost did not hear the race director start the race. It was a hundred miler… what is a few seconds of hesitation in the beginning? The 100 miler course has about 7000 feet of elevation gain. I know from previous experience that this would mean that there would be rolling hill, long climbs, and lots of flat areas. Because of this I decided to use my Gym Boss timer set to a 4 minute run and a 2 minute walk from the start. This turned out to be a good decision. The first 16 miler of the race were very foggy so you could not see far in front of you. I tried to notice the details along the road. The dew on the grass, the way the damp air felt on my face, and spider webs that lined the barbed wire fences. My only goal for the day was to stay in a positive head space and find the joy in the run. I truly believed that being at the race was a gift in itself and I was going to take advantage of the opportunity.

I was able to see my Mom at the first aid station that crew were allowed at, mile 16. At this point the fog had burned off and the heat was starting. The projected high was in the 90s. I was not worried, I do well in the heat. I did know that pacing myself, drinking a lot, and adjusting my nutrition plan was key. I grabbed some food from my Mom and I was shortly on my way. To get to the first 2 aid stations, crews need to travel a long gravel road. My mom was a bit nervous about this as the race warned of the chance of flat tires. I lied to my Mom and said that there was no way that she would get a flat tire because my mechanic told me that my tires were great for gravel. This was not true. I just knew she needed to hear it! About 5 hours into the race I came into the mile 26 aid station. My pacing was perfect and my effort felt very comfortable. I was also using my first GPS running watch ever, the Coros Pace. It was nice to cross reference the watch with the aid station and sure enough, my watch matched the aid station sign. I did my first sock change at this aid station. I put on a new pair of Injinji toe socks, added more sunscreen, grabbed more food and I was on my way. I usually like to eat more solid food but with the heat I knew I needed to adjust my plan. From mile 26 until the sun went down I would switch to applesauce packs, ginger ale at the aid stations, dates, bites of granola bar, and stinger chews. I find that less solid food works better for me in the heat. I would switch to more solid food during the night hours. One of the strangest things about the race was the remoteness. I can count on one hand the amount of houses that I saw the first 50 miles. You could also see the road that you needed to travel for miles. Instead of looking ahead at some point in the distance I tried to focus on the scenery immediately around me. I was able to pay closer attention to the plant life, birds, and butterflies throughout the day with this strategy. At one point I came across a Monarch butterfly and I contemplated how far it still had to go on it’s migration to Mexico. My 100 miles seemed like nothing compared to this tiny creature’s journey. I once again saw my Mom at the mile 42 aid station called Matfield Green. Supposedly it was a town but I did not see any resemblance of a town. From here we would cross the highway and head to the turnaround of the race, Lone Tree. It was also at this aid station that I was informed by one of the volunteers that I was 4th overall. “No pressure”, I thought. It would have been easy to try to catch the people ahead of me but I know from experience that in order for me to do well, I need to run my own race. I would not think about my placing in the event until much later. The road to the turnaround was uneventful other than a few cell phone towers and access roads. Ironically, the Lone Tree aid station was not a tree at all. Instead, a lone U-Haul truck sat parked on a gravel road. This aid station was super memorable for me because of one volunteer. He was so HAPPY to see us. I will never forget his smile and how helpful he was, filling my water and grabbing ice for my pack. The volunteers at Heartland were amazing. I think they were just as happy as we were to be at an actual race with people!

Until mile 50 I was running 4 minutes and walking 2 minutes pretty consistently but the heat was taking its toll. At mile 50 I decided to run 3 minutes and walk 2 minutes until I could not do that anymore. As I made my way back to Matfield Green I was able to see the runners behind me. Some of them were 125 milers and despite their all- nighter the night before, they all looked pretty good. I hoped I would look like that as the night wore on. I once again saw my Mom and with another sock change, headlamp grab, and water fill, I was off. I pride myself in not spending much time in the aid stations and this is my advice to any ultrarunner. If there are 20 aid stations and you spend 5 minutes at each one you can do the math. Get in and out as quickly as possible! The time was about 6pm when the heat of the day started to finally dissapper. My stomach had been just “okay” all day. I knew that with the cooling temps I would only start to feel better. As the sun began to set I came across my first herd of cattle. I was warned to watch out for the bull. “How can you tell which one is the bull”, I asked a volunteer earlier in the day. “Oh…you can tell”, they said. (Stupid question, I know!). The cattle were curious if anything and kind of looked at me and the runner ahead as if we were some sort of tourist attraction. I proceeded carefully as I did not want to piss any of them off. Shortly after I passed the cattle I could see one of the photographers from Mile 90 Photography in the distance. My goal was to get to them before the sun completely disappeared under the horizon. I skipped a few walk breaks and sure enough, I made it. They had been awesome all day. Just when you thought you were alone you would turn a corner and see one of their friendly faces looking through the view finder.

It was time to turn on my headlamp. I had waited as long as I could as I LOVE to travel without it. There was no moon and although we were traveling on gravel roads we had to cross cattle grates and uneven terrain with larger stones. I pulled out my trusty headlamp and as I pushed the button the light started to blink erratically. I tried turning it off, it would not shut off. I panicked for a moment…maybe longer than a moment. Would I have to travel the next 16 miles of road with a headlamp that blinked on and off only giving me seconds of light? My spare was with my Mother several hours away at the next aid station. A few minutes went by with the blinking light…I stopped…said a little prayer and pushed the button again…a steady beam of light appeared. I would not touch, or turn off my light the rest of the race.

Around mile 70 I passed a gentleman running without a light. “Was that the third place person”, I wondered? Again…I could not worry about it. A top three finish would be awesome but with 30 miles to go anything could happen. I stayed focused and moved forward. I was starting to get tired around this time as well. When I get tired it is easy to get into a negative head space, something I had avoided the entire day. I have two remedies for fatigue and negativity… caffeine and music. I did both! One caffeine pill and my playlist in the background and I was on my way. The caffeine that I take is equivalent to one cup of coffee and I only take one at a time. Within 20 minutes I was wide awake. At mile 25 I once again saw my Mom. I changed my socks, grabbed a jacket, and planned on meeting her in 10 miles. At this point I was alone on the road. I had not seen another runner for almost 2 hours. I am okay with this but it definitely made me question if I was still on the course. The course was marked well but only major intersections. You might travel down a gravel road for an hour without seeing a marking. I had to keep reassuring myself that I had not missed a turn. I made sure to keep one earbud out of my ear so I could listen to the night. It was here that I heard the coyotes in the distance. It sounded like there were hundreds of them and their serenade went on for over an hour. It was about this time that I was getting sick of eating. You would think that a 24 hour all- you- could- eat buffet would be an awesome thing. Let me tell you…it is not! I was also running out of food and was hoping to find something solid, vegetarian, and different at the next aid station. With 16 miles to go I saw my Mom for the last time until the finish. I projected that it would take me 4 hours to complete the last 16 miles. I did not change my socks, I grabbed the rest of my granola bars, and I gave her an air hug. She may be my Mom but she does not need to hug my disgusting self at mile 84 of a race!

I usually use the last miles of an ultra for deep thinking and reflection, the last 10 miles of Heartland were no exception. This year had been a bitch. At one point earlier in the year I felt lost. My business was shut down, I could not coach anyone, I could not run a race, the future was uncertain. My calling… my life’s purpose, had been taken away for a while. It took me months to get my mojo back and my career in the fitness industry was was still on thin ice. Then, as if the universe knew I needed to hear it, the song “Learning to Fly” by Tom Petty came on and I sang along and cried. “Some say life…will beat you down…break your heart…steal your crown… but it started out… from God knows where…I guess I’ll know… when I get there”… Onward I walked…singing and crying believing in brighter days ahead. The lights of Cassoday started to become visible in the distance. By this point I had developed one hell of a blister on the ball of my right foot. Each step was sharp and reminded me of the 250,000 before it. I actually welcomed the pain...it was proof of the adventure. A slight calculation and I guessed that I had 3 miles to go... I power walked towards the lights in the distance.

Finally the city… nearly being stopped by a train… and then the finish. With such a small race there were maybe 3 people at the finish line including my Mom. It was here that I also learned that I was third overall and second woman with a time of 22 hours and 57 minutes, a new 100 mile PR for me. I got my picture taken, I grabbed my sweatshirt and my belt buckle, and we made our way back to the hotel. Just like that, it was over. So here is what I have learned from this race…It never gets any easier (racing and life) and I wouldn’t want it to. To do things in life that are hard…to struggle… to keep moving forward when everything tells you not to… that is living. And as for 2020 and all of the things it has thrown at me… at us… Thank you! You were one of my biggest teachers. I will not let you crush my spirit…I create my own peace and joy no matter what you throw at me in the future.

A HUGE photo credit to Mile 90 Photo who provided the beautiful pictures in the blog for racers to download!