For many years since my first-ever 100(+)-mile finish in 2017, I yearned to enter another multi-day race, except this time, rather than stopping at a targeted distance, going until the end; in case I did so, I consistently raced once or twice monthly to stay ready. I hoped to travel to Korea to reunite with family to conclude 2023, but due to the preposterous flight cost, I postponed the trip, leaving this time that would inevitably be filled with loneliness open. After countless prayers and back-and-forths, convinced there would be no better time, I registered for a 48-hour event at Aravaipa Running’s Across the Years, starting on December 28, 2023, in Phoenix, Arizona. Shortly after, a faith mentor I had been unable to get ahold of reached out to me, and I gave him a call, who prayed over this race with me and boosted my confidence that I did not inadvertently disobey God in an attempt to gratify my earthly desire. I had never been so nervous and stressed leading up to a race, understanding full well based on experience the hours and hours of pain cave that awaited me; consequently, I managed 30 minutes of sleep the night before, 10 hours in the three days prior. At first irritated, I quickly changed the perspective that achieving my objective in spite of this disadvantage would only add to my testimony of God’s protection.

Early on! PC: Aravaipa Running

Around 80 miles in? PC: Aravaipa Running

For a race this long, I needed to break down the giant into small stages, the first of which being lightly running the first 10 miles without walking. I did so mostly for the first half marathon, after which I forced myself to incorporate walking. Going around a ~1.41-mile loop, switching directions every four hours, runners often run into each other and share stories of their whys, and as I told some, I may have been the only person without an awe-inspiring story. Still early on, I was connected to a young jolly lady participating in the 72-hour event with whom I covered likely nearly twenty miles, and knowing that she could have gone faster without me, I both thanked and apologized to her, to which she replied she finds joy in helping others, even if that affects her own performance. (Spoiler alert: She achieved a huge personal best anyway.) I felt an initial sign of hurt and fatigue around 40 miles, but speaking to her took my mind off the discomfort. I could feel the blisters form and pop on my feet and my toenails dance, but I ignored them as long as they did not become debilitating. Following the completion of lap 36, 50.7 miles, I took my first sitting break of 15-20 minutes in the resting tent. When I stood back up and went outside in the dark, I experienced arguably the scariest moment of my life. With zero anticipation, my body went into shock and violently shook uncontrollably, freezing my facial expression while drawing a weird noise, and I sprinted across to the aid station tent to take shelter, where I continued to shiver. Considering I burned 16,010 calories and realistically consumed less than 1,000 in return, this should not have been a surprise. “What is happening to me?” I panicked to a volunteer who was visibly alarmed and warned me I had to drink hot water and put on all of the clothes that I brought. When I stepped back outside, the shaking remained, so I returned and patiently drank multiple cups of hot water, after which, despite the sore legs, I ran out as fast as I could for my body to rapidly produce heat. Upon arriving at my rented tent on the other side, I put on an additional pair of pants as well as a shirt and a hoody under the jacket I was already wearing, covering most of my face. The symptom chilled out, and I was so grateful to be able to continue that I forgot about pain for the next ten miles. I repeatedly thanked and praised God for saving me and told Him what a testimony this would be if I could reach my goal. Throughout the remainder of the race, I had to be kept bundled up in the presence of the minutest cold air, as any wind that touched my face would make me tremble; had I not brought a hoody, really for my plane ride, or had a way of covering my neck and face, I do not know how I could have carried on.

Sent this to my parents about an hour before the start.

Sent this to my parents after I concluded my race.

Around 70 miles, my legs gave out, and I was no longer able to even walk at a semi-regular pace. Because I knew how much I had slowed down, I tried to make up time by taking as few breaks as possible. I finished lap 52, 73.2 miles (around 74 miles on my COROS PACE 2), just past the 24-hour mark. Words cannot express how demoralizing slowing down to this extent becomes with so much time and ideally distance left. As I kept moving in an awkard form to minimize pain, distracting myself as long as the hurt did not significantly exacerbate, I got reconnected to another kind and humble woman who too was struggling. Seeing that we were walking equally slowly, we decided to proceed together until I reached 100 miles. We exchanged stories, but both of us were too exhausted to speak much. She needed sleep and we parted ways after my lap 69, 97.2 miles, when I took another short break; we did run into each other again at my homestretch, where I had an opportunity to express my gratitude toward her sharing so much of my most difficult mileage with me. When I resumed, with two more laps to 100 miles, I ambitiously planned to log in four loops consecutively, which seemed feasible after the first but not so after the second based on the excruciating pain in my right leg and hip conquering the slightest incline that felt like Mount Everest. The lengthy asphalt portions of the course and the smallest hills I initially did not even notice later became insufferable. For this reason, after I reached 100 miles officially in 38:21:14.679 (my COROS hit 100 miles in 37:42:41.74), I decided to take a nap to see if I could recover sufficiently to add a couple of laps. As I lied down, I gave myself the possibility that the run is over. When I stood back up, not knowing how much I slept if at all, I felt rejuvenated just enough to keep going, and here, I told myself I would do two more laps and call it. My race came to an end after 73 laps and 102.831 miles, while my COROS reads 104.22 miles, in 41:48:46.189. Albeit I had more time, seeing how my body functioned, I could not justify resuming; taking another lengthy break to potentially be able to continue at an even slower pace would not have added that much to my mileage anyway. In silent darkness, I rang the PR bell to signify that I just ran my farthest distance to date.

PC: Paul Nielsen

Preparing for this race, I not only prayed for a successful run itself but also regarding the complexity of logistics and that my COROS would charge and last the entire event. I expressed to Jesus that I wanted to start focusing my life on something that has more impact on others instead of constantly searching for ways to fulfill my own selfish ambitions. After that shivering scare, I promised God that, once I finished this successfully, I would not participate in another multi-day race. I do not believe the event could have gone any more perfectly for me. I wanted to test my limits in my prime and at my peak shape now that I had so much more experience under my belt since my first 100+ miles, and I do not think I could have done or do any more than I did here. I will continue to run, for certain, but the days of putting my body under such prolonged stress and pain have come to a close. I thank and praise God for giving me the ability to embark on such a unique journey and His angels who guided me along the way. I cannot wait to witness what my Father has in store for me for 2024. Happy New Year!

My legs and feet post-race. I could barely move or put any weight.

PC: Cesar Rincon Foto

For my 100th race, I planned, at least hoped, to participate in a major run that would make me feel I accomplished something big to commemorate this milestone, but I also did not want to miss out on a turkey trot just to have this materialize. Like last year, I waited until the last minute to sign up for FS Series’ Skinny Turkey 10K in my city of Raleigh to commence Thanksgiving 2023.

Kylie was the first woman to finish!

The ideal 39-degree start undoubtedly helped support me through the ceaseless rolling hills, some moderate and some steep, that kicked off with a climb, and I carried on cautiously for the first half of the race to not inadvertently blow myself out. I maintained a consistent pace and never slowed down drastically at any point for more than several seconds, and I reminded myself to continue to pray and thank Jesus, as I acknowledge I cannot enjoy any of my running endeavors, or anything for that matter, without His help and leading me. Knowing the finish nigh following the final half a mile of steep climbing, I pushed myself to the fullest that had me close to vomiting upon conquering the giant hill, and I crossed the finish timing mats in 53:36.957, with my COROS PACE 2 reading 6.30 miles with an elevation gain of 456 feet and an unexpected third place out of 13 in my age group of 30-34.

In 100 races, I have covered approximately 1,556.5 miles, which includes 11 ultras, 5 marathons, 1 21-miler, 57 half marathon(+)s, 5 8-10-milers, 17 10K(+)s, and 4 5Ks. Here is to many more, God willing! Happy Thanksgiving!

Not comfortable sitting through the back-to-back-to-back embarrassing half marathon results, I at the last minute chose to register for and return to the Mayberry Half Marathon on November 11, 2023, that forecast an ideal temperature in the low 40s, requiring me once again to wake up at 4:00 AM to prepare and drive for over two hours to Mount Airy. I could vaguely justify my running so poorly recently, blaming the ginormous hills, suffocating humidity, and nonstop heavy rain, but here, like I told a 10K participant waiting in line for a porta potty, I had no excuse with the chillier weather and a relatively flat course, which oddly added unnecessary pressure.

I inadvertently opened up the first mile at 7:58, thanks to a downhill start, followed by a more realistic and cautious pace of mid-8:00 for the next nine miles. I continued to pray to God for help and to run with me, and three miles in, based on how strong I felt, I was confident I had this race in the bag while simultaneously anxious about suddenly tiring. Three quarters of the race in, my legs abruply felt heavier trying to maintain the same pace and I knew slowing down would be inevitable, and the rapid drop in speed occurred in the last mile and a half, perhaps due to occasional hills that I did not even notice at the beginning but felt like brief mountains on the way back. Regardless, I continued to run as hard as my body let me and crossed the finish with a gun time of 1:55:05.102. Going from three of my worst half marathons ever in my last three races to my top half marathon performance since a couple of years back at this exact event, I felt relieved having proved to myself that I could still comfortably run a sub-two-hour 13.1, boosting my confidence. As usual, with the conclusion of the race itself, the social butterfly in me came out, and I wrapped up my trip congratulating and exchanging stories with many runners and their families. Happy Veterans Day!

Following back-to-back half marathon weekends, I originally eyed a return to the High Bridge Ultra 50K for a second consecutive year, but seeing the possibility of thunderstorms and probability of nonstop rain in Pamplin, Virginia, I decided instead to go back to the Danville Half Marathon, taking place on October 14, 2023, that I ran a couple of years previously in the eponymous city, also in Virginia. Albeit I expected rain here and there, if I could have foreseen to what extent, from packet pickup all the way to the end of the event without a break, I highly doubt I would have signed up with two minutes to spare prior to online registration closing the night before.

Because I recalled this course as mostly flat, I shot hard from the start for a sub-two-hour run, but whether I am still out of shape from the summer or the heavy rain, soaking my shoes early on, affected me, or perhaps my legs have not sufficiently recovered from the two half marathons in just over a week, I felt fatigue hit me earlier than I imagined. Periodically smelling pungent weed odor throughout the trail predictably riled me up as well as confuse me what weirdo(s) would come outside early in the morning in this heavy rain just to get high. (For years now, there has been almost nowhere I have been able to freely run or even walk without the likelihood of encountering stoners or at least the smell, so I am extra sensitive toward these inconsiderate senseless dolts who shamelessly smoke in public and brag about their drug use.) Approaching the finish, I no longer cared strongly to push to my limit, as I had already blown this run, but a face I recognized from packet pickup pulled up from behind and said hello with just over half a mile to go, and I told her, “I am running the rest of the race with you.” Amber was running her first half marathon after just having gotten over pneumonia, and conversing with a fellow runner took my mind off the boredom and slight exhaustion, and I for certain would have finished later without her entrance, for which I thanked her. My bizarre finish time of 2:07:34.66 still placed second in my age group of 30-34, so I cannot be too embarrassed!

PC: Fit & Able

Following a disappointing half marathon last weekend, I registered for another race in the same distance at the Cary Greenways Tour, a rare mere twenty-minute drive, which took place on October 7, 2023. The event started from the marathon all the way down to the 5K and had scattered starts due to the trail being narrow and open to the public. I had never been asked to briefly stop in the middle of racing due to traffic, which somewhat snapped my flow early on.

PC: Fit & Able

I knew the chances of my performing worse than I did a week ago were slim to none, but because of the unexpected suffocating humidity, exacerbated by my wearing the event’s not-very-breathable black T-shirt that led me to begin sweating like a mad pig from the very first mile, I deliberately moved much more slowly than I typically do. This, comparable to the previous race, had more downhill running the first half and returned back up the second half, and though I ran consistently for the first ten miles, I slowed down drastically toward the end, thanks to my deciding to walk a few of the climbs to preserve energy and run faster on the flat and downhill portions. With the course not being USATF-certified, I was not surprised the distance stretched over 13.1 miles, 13.33 with an elevation gain of 627 feet according to my COROS PACE 2, which would not have been a big deal if the temperature would have rested about 15 degrees cooler. I would normally be more embarrassed by my finish time of 2:14:48.79, but considering the hills, humidity, and the temperature much higher than forecast and that I am just returning to racing from the summer, I am content simply having challenged myself and put some fun mileage in over the past week. I am often amused that individuals try to predict what Earth will look like millions of years from now when they can hardly ever accurately predict the following morning’s weather.

After months of insufferable heat in Raleigh, with the effective temperature regularly resting between 110 and 120 degrees, although I continued to run consistently, my pace understandably drastically slowed and I pursued hardly any longer runs; thus, when I registered for the infamously hilly Run for Green Half Marathon in Davidson, North Carolina, taking place on September 30, 2023, last minute, I had no intention of running fast, especially having just recovered from a cold, and casually viewed the event as a training run for hopefully a bigger race soon.

PC: Run for Green

As typical, I did not manage sufficient sleep after driving 2.5 hours the day before, and the race commenced hotter than I predicted, with my body beginning to sweat profusely early on. I tried hard to run slowly for the first several miles but accidentally outpaced myself, likely due to the initial downhill. The course comprised rolling hills, some extreme, from start to finish with hardly any flat, and toward the end, when I saw my running uphill felt barely faster than walking, I chose the latter to conserve energy and to pick up running again when the hills subsided. When I saw how slowly I was moving, I lost any desire to keep pushing to make up ground.

No excuses, but in retrospect, following the summer of almost entirely shorter and slower runs, coming back to a half marathon with this many giant hills may not have been the wisest. My fitness, whether due to insufficient training or my not being the best hill runner in general, was missing while my legs do not even feel like they ran, with zero soreness. I went into the event conservatively giving myself just over two hours to finish, so this embarrassing time of 2:21:53, exacerbated by the course stretching well over 13.1 miles, as my COROS PACE 2 reads 13.38, humbled me. I am still confident I would have easily run a sub-two-hour half marathon had this course been flatter or the weather been 10 degrees cooler, as I would not have walked, and hopefully I will be able to prove that to myself shortly. Regardless of the result, I am thrilled to be racing again.

PC: Elm Street Run Festival

Just like last week, I identified a relatively nearby running event, this time the Elm Street Run Festival 10 Mile in Greensboro, North Carolina, that permitted online registration up to race day, May 13, 2023, and set my alarm to 5:00 AM to decide then. Again justifying I would run this day anyway, after a few hours of sleep, I ate a piece of bread and chugged Gatorade Zero, registered online, took a longer shower this time, and headed out for a 70-minute drive to the venue. Because I continue to participate in races last minute, I tend to pay significantly more than those who sign up early and often do not receive all the swag, this time missing out on the event T-shirt due to all sizes being sold out; nevertheless, I do not feel comfortable committing too far in advance in case something comes up that could prevent me from going, and I only make exceptions for World Marathon Majors (because I have to).

PC: Elm Street Run Festival

Two-time champ!

Not seeing many 10-mile participants upon arrival, I was concerned about navigation, prompting me to ask a fast-looking runner about the course. He happened to be the reigning champion who predictably reclaimed the title, and unsurprisingly he has run a 2:17 marathon and was using this as training for an upcoming marathon in Canada. To my relief, so that I could follow them if confused, many more people toed the line out of nowhere right before the start. The course ran up and down from start to finish, and the 463 feet of elevation gain in just 10.12 miles, according to my COROS PACE 2, felt more challenging, especially in the latter half, thanks to the rapidly approaching summer heat that will continue to worsen for the next several months. I opened up the first mile in 8:06 and hoped to maintain this pace, but considering the hills, I am content with a 1:30:29.7 finish.

Seeing I could sign up for The Derby Run 10K in Fayetteville, North Carolina, up to the start on May 6, 2023, at 8:15 AM, I set my alarm to 5:50 AM and decided to decide then based on how I felt. Following a few hours of sleep, I rolled out of bed just past 6:00 AM and, because I would be running later in the day anyway, convinced myself to make it a race for more fun, shoving down a piece of bread and Gatorade Zero, taking a record-breaking short shower, registering half asleep, and rushing out for a 70-minute drive to the event location, all within 10 minutes. This reckless spontaneity made me worry if I could even make it to the venue with sufficient time in case of traffic or construction.

Several participants, in addition to the official website, spoke of the challenging hills throughout the 10K course, but unsurprisingly, as I did not associate this military town with hills, they felt like babies compared to the ones I regularly train and race on. As usual for a race this small, navigation concerned me most and I ran without music to be more alert. I opened up the first mile just under 8:11 and maintained a steady pace throughout, and I cannot recall recently feeling this strong with no sign of discomfort throughout. Prior to the start, I spoke to a pregnant woman wearing a Boston Marathon shirt pushing her daughter in a stroller, and although she has run a three-hour marathon in the past, I assumed she came to jog, until I saw her blow past me not even a mile in and not slow down one bit, prompting me to comment, “That’s amazing. How are you doing that?” Crossing the finish in an official gun time of 53:00.5, I was momentarily disappointed that I came that close to hitting 52 minutes and would have had the race used chip timing at the starting line.

After confirming my official time with the staff, I saw a finisher seemingly unknowingly dragging his dog who was panting and on the verge of passing out. Many of us rushed to the dog with cold water bottles and poured water all over the dog. A peculiar way to conclude a running event, but I hope the dog is doing okay.

Ready to start!

Nearing the registration deadline and misremembering Chapel Hill as a shorter commute, I decided a couple nights prior to the event to sign up for the historic Tar Heel 10 Miler, held on April 22, 2023, and commencing by the Morehead-Patterson Bell Tower. Had I known my drive to packet pickup from my office in downtown Raleigh would take an hour and a half due to traffic the day before, I may not have registered. I primarily planned to use this as a training run for a bigger race hopefully soon. I have consistently heard about the relentless hills of the event town, and many highlighted the giant one-mile climb on Laurel Hill toward the end.

This race too, like my most recent half marathon, had a mass start of thousands of runners, but thankfully I did not find challenging maneuvering around people and keeping my intended pace. The entire course comprised rolling hills but nothing extreme for the most part; hills generally look worse than they feel, the reason I often look down when running up so that my mind does not deceive me into believing they are more daunting than they are. Even in this hotter-than-ideal temperature, I for the first eight miles ran every mile significantly under nine minutes, with the fastest clocking in at just under 8:24, but the anticipation of the final climb remained. Unlike in many instances, people were not exaggerating about this monster that started around 8.5 miles in all the way to the finish with hardly any flat breaks in-between, which slowed me down drastically and ruined my overall performance. I only cared about not walking at any point, which I managed, and crossed the finish with an official time of 1:31:33.54, with my COROS PACE 2 reading 614 feet of elevation gain in 10.16 miles. Ten minutes following, officials asked runners to take shelter for a thunderstorm that never appeared, which had me worrying about the thousands of runners still on the course and if they would be allowed to finish.

Ready to start!

Planning to squeeze in a race in March, I casually set my eyes on the renowned Asheville Half Marathon, taking place in the eponymous city on the 18th, thanks to its seemingly ideal condition for a fast time, with the net downhill and temperature in the low 30s; nevertheless, I struggled to decide if my would-be-53rd half marathon was worth driving four hours out and four hours back and spending even more money on a hotel overnight. The morning before race day, having already taken a PTO from work, I finally pulled the trigger on this runcation and headed out for the event Expo.

PC: Asheville Marathon

I have raced in the vicinity twice in previous years and again was captivated by the breathtaking scenery and nature of Western North Carolina. Following waiting in line for a porta potty for nearly half an hour, I stepped up toward the front for a mass start of 2,500 participants, trying to minimize my chances of being stuck at a slower-than-intended pace due to the human barricade, which happened anyway. In spite of pacers with clear signs, an infinite number of slower runners clogged up the front, forcing me to maneuver around them and commence at an eleven-minute-mile pace when I planned to go out between upper seven-minute and lower eight-minute. Albeit I would typically appreciate this 31-degree start with the feels-like in the 10s, I did not foresee the nonstop vicious headwind and its impact on my running. Furthermore, as I suspected, the course opening up primarily downhill for the first two miles took more out of my legs than normally at this point. As I slowed down significantly the last several miles, specifically from the short climb and trail portion forward, I went from thinking I could realistically run between 1:52 and 1:55 to doubting I could even finish under two hours, as I saw the 2:00 pacers pass me with just over a mile to go; amusingly, while they stayed in proximity, they blocked the headwind and made the run less unpleasant. They left my sight with half a mile to go, then nearing the finish line, I saw them drastically slowing their pace, prompting me to look at my watch to see if sub-two hours was still within reach. I sped up as much as my legs let me, crossing the finish in 1:59:27 at 13.22 miles on my COROS PACE 2. Considering how weak I felt approaching the final stage, I was thrilled I managed to at least salvage a sub-two-hour 13.1, even if I did not run close to my potential perhaps due to the spontaneity of this trip, lack of sleep, and/or simply not having the best day.

At the Expo the day before, I stood by a backdrop runners sign that asked what inspired us to run, on which I wrote, after pondering for a while, “Community!” I often wonder this myself, as I still do not know if I truly enjoy running itself but certainly love connecting with humble and disciplined individuals who share the same hobby before, during, and after any running event. I doubt I would run as frequently as I do without the availability of races or community.