Complete the mission

 Ultramarathons are not new to me. I've crossed both the start and finish lines of many of these long
races since 1994. As I have aged, however, the challenge level of making required cutoffs has grown exponentially. It's been frustrating to face the reality of not being able to perform as in yesteryear. Hence, enter the 24-hour race, a different kind of hurt.

These races that start one day and end 24 hours later have no cutoffs. If one decides to take a 3-hour nap at 2 AM, that's not a problem. There is no event-generated mileage expectations. Some enter to accomplish a personal goal without a time crunch. For example, complete a 50K or 50 mile with a generous time buffer. It's a beautiful thing.

This last weekend, I set off with me, myself, and I for Lillington, NC for the Cape Fear 24-Hour event. The course is a black-topped and lighted 0.6 mile pathway, relatively flat, encircling a couple of recreational fields. The sole aid station is well stocked, a few runners don costumes for comic relief, and various blow-up characters serve to distract on the 95th lap in the middle of the night. The race is incredibly well-
organized and volunteers oh so helpful. But these factors were not the main reasons I entered.

My previous three attempts at the 24 hr format saw me stop short of the mark, all for different reasons. With a little over an hour to go, time enough for another lap, I stopped short at the Black Mountain Monster because I could not catch the first place women and the third place women could not catch me.

The Buffalo Mountain Endurance Race in Tennessee was my next go-around in November of 2022. I stopped 50 minutes shy of the 24-hour mark with 80 miles. I felt awful and completely exhausted. Turns out I had Covid.

Then in November of 2023, I entered the Greensprings 24 Race. I pulled up after 75 miles and left about two hours on the clock. This time, it was a slightly worrisome pain in my chest that contributed to my decision.

I drove to North Carolina to truly understand what it meant to find the "dignity in completion" described so eloquently by philosopher and world class ultramarathoner, Sabrina Little, who incidentally was the previous American record holder at the 24-hour format running 152.03 miles. Mind-blowing, I know! In my thinking and considering how slow I have become, I set the goal of using up the entire 24 hours to cover at least 80 miles, many of which I knew would be walking.

Here's how the race went. I actually ran most of the first 10 miles, shifting to a relatively comfortable run/walk approach up
through about 25 miles. Nevertheless, with my heart rate much too high to be sustainable and my legs becoming increasingly disobedient so early on, I had to figure out how to accept the fact that I would be walking for the next 55 miles if my goal was to be realized. That began to weigh heavily on my rambling thoughts and I knew I had to figure out a way to bring them under submission.

I will spare you the details of the physical and mental challenges, especially when the lead runners would breeze by me time after time after time. It was demoralizing but I was intentional about offering encouraging words to them as they passed. I filled some of the time catching up with two old-school runners whom I have known for decades. But other than a few words here or there, the only extended conversations I had were with myself. I utilized services that the Campbell University School of Medicine offered in an effort to restore life into this old body. Twice I sat in my car for five minutes to compose myself and will away the sleepiness. Numerous times I ducked into the restroom as my body was trying to deal with fluid shifts. As temperatures fell, I morphed into a Michelin TireMan look-alike by sequentially adding six layers to fend off the cold.

Finally, the clock read 23 hours. With dawn slowly breaking, the golden hour had finally arrived. This is what I had been waiting for. This is where I would have to decide if I had the integrity and dignity to see it through to the bitter end. Did I? I have to admit, with each lap I decided to be content with just one more. Leaving 45 minutes on the clock isn't that bad. Right? How about 30 minutes? 15 minutes? It was a huge struggle to force myself to endure just a bit longer. However, when the clock read 23:56ish, too little time to complete another lap, I was pleased to finally understand what the dignity of completion felt like, despite falling 2.5 miles short of my 80 mile goal.

Was it worth it? Yes. Mission accomplished.