Prairie Spirit 100

{I have to start by saying none of what took place on March 23 and 24 would have been possible without the following people: My awesome wife for putting up with my training schedule. Jono for encouraging me, assuring me that I could do it and pacing me through some horrible weather. Lynn, Connie and Justin Becker and Rachel Garcia for following me through a blizzard and being ready to assist in any way I needed. Thank you so much. I am blessed that you are a part of my life!}

The gym of the Ottawa Recreation Center was full of people that still looked half asleep. Sure, some looked excited and ready to go like me but the early start time and the cold temps seemed to make the atmosphere in the gym almost like that of a library. I walked around chatting with other runners and then found my way to Kathy Hoover for some last minute advice. What better place to get advice about running my first 100 mile race than from someone who has run 12? She said she was going to go out at the back of the pack so as not to get caught up in trying to follow the people up front. Take it easy at the first so you have gas left in the tank at the end. I have taken a similar approach in most of my other races and decided I would just try to hang near Kathy and learn as much as I could.

With less than 10 minutes to go before 6:00 we all headed outside to the starting area. The temperature was around 32 degrees with a minimal amount of wind. Perfect conditions for a little jog to Iola and back. I was looking around trying to find the people I had planned on running with when Eric Steele started the race. I say started the race because for the life of me I can't remember if he just said "Go" or if there was an actual starting gun. I'm guessing it was just a countdown from 10 seconds and "GO".
So we were off. I started running in the middle of the pack and then realized that this wasn't my strategy so I looked over my shoulder and found Kathy and Danielle Martin and sidled up next to them. After running about half a mile the gravity of what I was about to attempt hit me right in the gut. DUDE!!!! This is going to be a long day! I looked at Danielle who was also attempting her first 100 and said, "Well, I guess we are actually going to do this."
The first aid station was about 9 miles from the start and Kathy, Danielle, Dennis and I all ran the entire stretch together. Kathy really taught us how to run for a while and then power walk for a couple of minutes. The race director, Eric Steele, had been giving me advice for a couple of months and one thing that really stuck out to me was when he said to start walking early, before you actually have to. According to him a 100 mile race is either successfully finished or DNF'd (did not finish) because of what you do in the first 50-60 miles. I kept this and Kathy's wisdom at the forefront of my mind each time I wanted to go catch that next person up in front of us.

We left Dennis at the first aid station as he decided to shed some clothes, but we picked up Ken Childress who had stopped to feed his face. Danielle started to drop her pace back at around mile 12. Ken, Kathy and I stayed together all the way to the mile 33 aid station. Talk about some good luck for me. I got to run with two 100 mile veterans. Between the two of them they have 22 100 milers under their belts! I heard some good stories and learned a lot about what to expect and what to do when certain things come up. And I think the most important part was letting them set the pace and just putting my run on cruise control.


Mile 33.5

My crew's plan was drive from Tulsa mid-morning and head straight to the 33 mile aid station to see if I had already gone through or not. If I had they would go to the 41 mile aid stop and meet me there for the first time of the race. Since our pace put me ahead of schedule, we arrived at the aid station a lot earlier than I was originally expecting. I was sure Jono and his Family wouldn't be there yet, but luckily they had pulled into the parking a minute or two before I did. It was great to see all their smiles and to know that all my gear had made it to Kansas. Jono was a little worried that I may have been pushing the pace too fast but I assured him that I still felt great and was in good hands. I ate some food, got some good encouragement and headed back to the trail.



Mile 41ish

At this point Kathy was relegated to a fast walk with her leg issues so Ken and I took off together. I really enjoyed the next 8 miles just getting to know a little more about the "Trail Zombie" that is Ken Childress. This was also the stretch when it started to snow. It was a nice snow/sleet combo that was much better than the rain we were hoping to avoid. But after the mile 41 aid station the snow started to intensify. I finally had to put my hood on and once I did this it put me into an amazing running zone like I had never really experienced before. The flakes were the size of a small child. Well maybe not that big but they were bigger that half dollar coins and right now I can't think of something else to reference them to. Anyway, they were some of the biggest I have ever seen and luckily falling straight down since the winds were still relatively calm. I couldn't tell where Ken was since I was in my little cocoon and before I knew it I had run off from him. So for the first time I was running by myself. I still felt great and ran the next 10 miles to the turnaround point at a pace that was either similar to or a bit faster than when we started. 

Mile 51.25 - Turn around

Iola is the half way mark. I had just run 51.25 miles and was about to turn around and do it all over again but in reverse. Before this the farthest I had ever run was 33.5 miles. Prior to the race I was wondering what I would be feeling like at different points along the trail. I must have had a legion of people praying for me because I was feeling just as happy and spry as when we started. This is not what I had imagined in my mental prep sessions. It amazed me every time I would think about it and it still does as I'm writing this a week later. Another booster for me was the orphans in Uganda that I was running for. Having them as such a huge motivator as well as the many people who donated to Run to Uganda for this fundraiser helped me to have the mind set going into it that quitting was not an option. And I am guessing that since I knew I could not give up my body had pre-programmed itself to feel as good as is possible for 100 miles.
To make things even better this was the point where our pacers could jump in with us. Enter Jono Becker. Jono is the sole person who I credit with getting me into this running game. His mom, dad and brother are integral parts of Project Hope Worldwide and the sole reason my wife and I have been supporting the orphanage that they founded. I was running this race to raise money for the orphanage, Jono was my pacer and his family was crewing for me. I my mind we were one heck of a team. Nothing could stop us! Well, almost nothing.

The wind had picked up a little and it wasn't long until the blowing sleet was stinging our eyes. And I soon found out that my rain jacket had obviously been sitting in the closet too long and was no longer water proof. The wet snow was soaking right through and my under layers were beginning to get wet. The return trip was heading north directly into an increasingly strong wind. This headwind was brutal and I was shivering from being soaking wet. I couldn't wait to get to the next aid station and change clothes. I had given Jono a list of everything I needed from the crew. We were going to get in, eat some soup and a piece of pizza, change clothes and get out. But those plans changed when we arrived at the aid station to find that our crew wasn't there.


Changing at mile 61ish

It was difficult to stave off the panic of thinking that something might have happened to them on those roads which we had heard were quickly becoming quite treacherous. And I knew there was no way I could make it to the next aid station in the same clothes without developing hypothermia. Thankfully the crew was safe but having a hard time making it back to the aid station because of the poor conditions. They showed up after about 5-10 minutes and I was able to change out of just about every piece of clothing I had on. But for some reason I didn't change gloves. By this point mine were soaking wet and had been in my coat pocket for about 7 miles. The trip to the next aid station was another 8 miles of low visibility, strong headwinds with heavy snow and sleet, my fresh clothes getting soaked to the skin again and my hands starting to ache from not taking the gloves Jono's mom offered at the last aid station. I still can't imagine what would have made me say, "nay, I don't need gloves, I can just put my hands inside my sleeves." I guess that worked for about a mile until my sleeves got wet at which point I told Jono, "Note to self: Next time someone offers you gloves in a blizzard, just say YES PLEASE and THANK YOU!"

Lynn reading Paul a text messge about
one of the orphans

The mile 68 aid station was a welcome sight. I was looking forward to the homemade chicken noodle soup they had for about 15 miles and ate 3 cups of it plus a piece of pizza. I was able to change out of the wet shirts and Jono's dad gave me a gift straight from heaven. A gore-tex jacket that would finally keep me from getting wet and block the wind. To top it off I had a fresh pair of warm gloves. We were ready to go. We knew the next aid station was actually inside an old train depot and would be a nice warm welcome for some weary runners. The new clothes rejuvenated me and we took off. Jono soon told me that his parents were getting worried because the weather was getting pretty horrendous. His dad had taken him aside to make sure he thought it was a good idea to continue on. I shrugged it off and jumped in behind my friendly pacer with my head down following his footsteps. Visibility was probably 5 feet and headlamps made it worse so we had been running in the dark most of the time.



Best Donuts EVER!

I had been passing people all day. Some on the trail and some at the aid stations. And once we got to the mile 76 aid station I knew we would be passing even more. I hadn't come into this race caring about placing in a certain percentage of the field but since I was feeling so good and there were so many people who looked pretty dreadful my competitive juices started flowing a little. And the first thing Jono's mom said to me when I walked into the depot was,"Are you guys going to quit here?" It kind of shocked me and I told her no and asked why. She said that a lot of people were dropping here and having a really hard time. This gave me more energy to keep going so we hung out for a few minutes, ate some ramen noodles and QT donuts and then took off again.

The snow had let up a little but that didn't last for more than about 15 minutes. I was determined to run most of this section and we did even though the conditions were close to white out the entire time. I knew that once we got the the 86.5 mile aid station it would only be two more segments to the finish line. The blizzard was annoying but I knew I could still run. I was starting to get a little tired when I would close my eyes to keep ice pellets from building up around my corneas but I had a 5-hour energy shot to combat this problem. Jono was leading the way and we were getting close.
Since there was a 31 hour time limit to complete the race we decided that we would stop at the 86.5 mile aid station and hang out until the snow or wind let up. We could run in one or the other but with both adversaries at the same time it was difficult to see the trail. In those conditions and that far from help it wouldn't take much of a problem to put our lives in some serious danger. Some areas of the trail were elevated above the natural ground level so when trains used to travel this path they wouldn't have to go up and down hills. This meant that in areas there was up to a 30 foot drop off on both sides. If one of us would have slipped off the side it would be hours before help could arrive. We were still going strong but that fire pit outside the aid tent was a welcome site.

Once in the aid station we realized that the conditions were worse than we thought. Roads were becoming almost impassible and the crew's car wasn't even close to being 4 wheel drive. Jono's brother was finally able to bring up the weather radar on his phone and the result of what we saw sent me into my first funk of the whole race. I was absolutely deflated to see that the blizzard wasn't supposed to let up for another 6-7 hours. I knew the crew needed to get out of the parking lot and if they stayed much longer it would be impossible. I also knew that it wouldn't be safe for them to try to make it to the next aid station. I couldn't ask them to risk their lives for a stupid race. So I stood behind a lounge chair staring at the tarp wall trying to run each scenario through my head. I still felt like running. Was this idea to stop rational? I knew physically I was capable of finishing. Did I really need to stop? I told the aid station workers that I was still feeling good, started doing jumping jacks to prove it and asked them if they wanted me to do some Burpees. Was it selfish to continue on?

Mile 86.5 Aid Station got beat up by the wind.
It was twice this big to start with.

I had asked myself 3 times to make sure it wasn't just some sleep deprived head game telling me to stop. Then I looked over at Jono and I knew our race was over. He said, "You need to think about your wife and unborn child. Is it worth the risk?" And then I was done. Not defeated, but done. I told the aid station people and we jumped in the car. Luckily we got behind a semi truck on the highway because we weren't able to see road at all. Jono's brother drove like a champ on the treacherous roads and the 15 mile trip probably took us an hour. Soon after getting back to the hotel we found out that the race had been stopped, the Parks Department had shut down the trail due to dangerous conditions and all runners had been picked up off the trails. Many were stranded in their vehicles for up to 5 hours waiting for the roads to become somewhat passable and the mile 86.5 aid station tent was destroyed by the high winds.
I was very emotional when we got back to the hotel. The fatigue was getting to me and I felt like a failure. It wasn't until the next day that I started to realize that our stopping wasn't failure. We did not cross the finish line but that does not mean we were not successful. We were able to raise nearly $8,000 to go towards our goal of building a school for the orphans of Calo Me Lare. 86.5 miles is 53 miles more than I have ever run before, and that 53 miles was all in the snow, most of which was blowing between 20 and 50 mph right in our face. Mother nature may have gotten the best of us but in the grand scheme of things we were the ones who prevailed. Some people were complaining that they were forced to quit and didn't get the coveted 100 mile finishers belt buckle. I have come to realize that my "belt buckle" is the incredible memories that will be with me for the rest of my life. The love and support I received from so many people makes me emotional every time I think about it. A goal that I thought was insurmountable a few months ago became very reachable. All it took was the inspiration of the orphans of Calo Me Lare, and the prayers and support of the many people who followed us. One day I'll cross the finish line of a 100 mile race and it will be a sweet moment. But I bet it won't compare to the elation of being able to participate in the Inaugural Prairie Spirit 100 mile blizzard run!