The Silverheels 100 Miler

I'm in the business of finding bottom. Once a new absolute bottom is found, when there's no where else to go but up, thus begin-ith the climb. The climb back up out of despair, full of learnings, trials, teachers and then the whispers, the whispers that say "try this" and "go further". I believe that "the limit does not exist". There will always be another bottom to find. Equally, there will always be a way to climb higher, to learn more.

So, what type of bottom did I find in a 100 mile race last July? The best kind, the kind where you become something new. Here's that story.

It was actually 104 miles, and this 38 hour journey titled "The Silverheels 100", began in Fairplay, CO at 4am on July 6th, 2019. 41 runners (5 women and 36 men) toed the line to begin climbing 17,000 feet while maintaining an average altitude of 11,000 feet. I, along with the help of 15 family/crew members, was one of the 27 runners to cross the finish line on July 7th. As I had failed twice before at the 100 mile distance, the journey to crossing that finish line was years in the making and it was a special moment.

There are 2 parts to this story that are of the highest order. 1) My family who served as the Crew 2) Sherpa John, Race Director and Founder of Human Potential Running. Read his stuff, he's got a clear vision around the purpose of these events and how they're built and designed specifically for runners to face adversity.

Part 1. The Crew

My 84 year-old, 5 time Pikes Peak marathon finisher, 8-sport Senior Olympic Game athlete Grandmother, Della M. Works, shared something with me at mile 64 of a 100 mile race. She said:

“...just put one foot in front of the other, until you get to the end”

That advice was massively helpful. It was helpful because 100 miles in a long ways and when my mind would go dark ("I want to quit" "this is stupid" "I can't do it" "I'm no good"), I'd repeat that phrase to myself and picture the finish line, and for a brief moment--seconds--I would go on, I'd take another step.

But, truly for me, there was far more uncertainty, crying, failures and dark moments out there than good moments---and by design! That's what I'm out there for! I'm out there to test stuff, to test learnings, to peel layers of my soul and to see, to really see who I am in those moments (but, still tough to remember that when despair hits).

Every time these dark moments arise, I cannot escape the depths alone. I’m lifted out by another human—which cannot be a surprise to anyone reading this that connects to this long known truth that as humans we are total shit alone and better together. My uncle Tom, my Mom, my Cousin Mckynze all ran with me during this race as a ‘pacer’: someone with fresh eyes, fresh legs and just someone, someone to be there if just to say ‘you’re not alone’.

Three magical pacers of the Silverheels 100:

• My Uncle Tom started running with me at mile 54 when it was 30 degrees, dark, a little rainy and the most technical terrain of the race. He told me stories of high school cross country, mischief and told me to eat. It was the best and truly a special moment to get to spend just the two of us. Through his words and his outlook on life, he helped re-instill my sense of joy and play, which was exactly the fuel I needed to keep going forward.
• Then Barby Bosco (my Mom!), who volunteered to run 9 miles with me, but then mercifully volunteered to go the whole 18 miles through the night with me, began the next shift at mile 64. More rain, more darkness, she endured me crying, she climbed the most amount of elevation, she ran through huge rivers, and was my trusted guide. I’m in awe of her. Barby Bosco studied to be a Pilot at Embry Riddle Aeronautical University. She’s a true leader. She’s got grit, a positive mental attitude, a sense of calm and ability to be in the moment and know things will pass. She sets and demonstrates the standard, always has, and just by her being there, she quite literally helped us fly.
• Then, at mile 82, Cousin McKynze Works, a masterful runner who took on the mountains of Vermont for 4 years running Cross Country for Castleton University, picked up the shift and brought it home. She took us from mile 82 to mile 104. She also shared stories to keep me alert, she was a shining light and a masterful outdoors-woman. She exhibited true leadership out there and did not falter when I hallucinated that there was a family of black bears waving at us from the trees. She kept me calm through a very tough portion of the race: the last climb of the day. It was 1000 degrees (I swear!) sunny, we were at about 10k feet elevation and a treacherous, giant rock/boulder hill that seemingly would never end. I felt like we were literally going straight up. It was laughable. But there she was, persisting, she too climbed that thing. She too hoofed it 22 miles that day. It was truly a gift. Thank you McKynze.

These three amazing pacers, along with 15 other members of my family, took time out of their lives to make their way to Colorado, take time off work, head into the wilderness, feed me, fuel me, treat me and so selflessly participate in this thing. My Aunt Cindy and Aunt Lisa took the lead on wound care, it was amazing. Call it wound care or call it emotional care, they eased my wounds and lifted my spirit. If you’re reading this, thank you family. Namaste. I am so very grateful for you and cannot wait for the chance to repay the favor.

So, what’s next? Well. My ultimate goal is to run the Barkley Marathons by 2026. In an effort to continue to build the necessary experiences (developing a fool-proof mental game, being awake for 60 hours, covering 120+ miles, navigating remote terrain and many more things I'm not even aware of yet) I have signed up to run a 200 mile race on September 16th, 2020. The name of the race is the “Sangre de Cristo 200”.

“How will you train for 200 miles?” – everybody

“I’m not going to change my training, I’m going to change my mind” – Nicci by way of Eliud Kipchoge, first sub-2 hour marathoner in the world.

So, the question is not “Can I run 200 miles?” The question is “Who will I become when I do?”

Part 2. Sherpa John

It must be noted that this 200 mile race (actually 208 miles) is a race that’s put on by none other than Sherpa John, the same race director that helped me cross the finish line at Silverheels 100. I cannot overstate the importance he plays and the effort he puts into the people that run his races. It’s so very clear that he wants the people who sign up for his races to succeed in whatever they set out to do. And, he designs all his races to ensure we have to 'embrace the suck'.

He operates a race series called “Human Potential Running”. I believe, like many things that anchor on ethos, we are drawn to his races because of the culture and values he has cultivated around them. His race entrants doubled year over year, and it’s not slowing down. To give you an example of what he’s all about and the goodness he brings to the sport, here’s a quick look at what he did to support and truly give himself and his ethos to the 41 runners at the Silverheels 100:

1)   During the pre-race briefing on July 5th, night before the race, he made all the runners get in a line and one-by-one to stand up in front of a full length mirror and look ourselves in the eye so that after the race, he’d hold a mirror up to us and we could witness the transformation

2)   Then, he picked up the mirror, held it lengthwise above his head and paned it around the entire audience of runners, family, friends, pacers, volunteers and he spoke to us saying “Look, I want you to know you’re not out there alone, we are all here together as a community”

3)   Then, as we all picked up our bibs and got the 4 safety pins to attach our bibs to our shirts, he handed us a “5th pin”. This “5th pin” was a different color pin and he said “during the race tomorrow, I want you to take this pin and pin it to someone to show your gratitude for them”

Lastly, Sherpa John was simply present. For the next 40 hours, he was present. During the race he was at the aid stations, he was on the trail, he was visible to runners. To me, that’s leadership, that’s showing up. I admire his work and look forward to many more of his races.

I’ll leave you with a few of the internal ‘self-talk’ mantras that I use during these races. I say these silently to myself when it gets bad out there—remember Owen Wilson in that scene from Armageddon when they’re describing the asteroid and he goes “so, scariest environment imaginable, thanks, that's all you gotta say scariest environment imaginable" that’s what it feels like out there sometimes. Different moments call for different words:

“Run your own race”

“You’re fine, you’re fine” (Courtyney Daulwalter)

“The answer is on the inside” (Buddism)

 “The only thing you’re allowed to think about is the next 3 feet in front of you” “ (Kyle Maynard)

“In through your nose out through your mouth”

“Breath in the mountains, breath out yourself”

 “There is no secret, keep going”

“No matter what” (Shadow Divers)

“Let it change you”

“Surrender”

“Patience” (Laura the trail angel who ran with me for 50 miles)

“You can just ignore that thought”

“This too shall pass”

“If bad things are happening, that means good things are coming” (Thanks to Gediminas Grinius for gifting me this one)

“Thank you, may I have another” (Barby Bosco)

“Fall down seven, stand up eight” (Japenese proverb and tattoo on Haley Bosco’s ankle)

This type of running, I believe, is simply a physical manifestation of this reminder to oneself that you can do it. In these ultra-races, with each step forward, I’m witnessing myself do something that seems impossible, and yet here’s the evidence. The footstep forward is so palpable that it cannot be denied. Each step is a vote. It’s a vote, amidst all other conflicting information that a 100-mile race might give you (your feet hurt, you’re nauseous, you can’t eat or drink, you’re cold, you’re crying, you’re lost), that there’s still more in the tank, that it might just work out. And, guess what. There’s always more in the tank, always.

Some days you might not have it, whatever it is that you’re doing, at work, at home, anywhere--and you have to put a mark in the fail column. But, that’s ok. Because, lest we forget, my favorite quote of all time from the best book ever Shadow Divers –

“Rarely does the problem itself kill the diver, rather the diver's response to the problem, his panic, likely determines whether he lives or dies”

And, so regardless of what happens, we still get to choose our response. And, the response is: another step. 

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