I write ‘siting’ within my holy sacred space. A place that is a sanctuary. I am at Ypsilanti Running Company (YRC), flooded with emotions of love and support from the YRC tribe.
On Saturday, June 1, 2019, I started the Lighthouse 100 ultramarathon race. The race began at 6 am at the Old Mission Lighthouse, Traverse City, MI.
Cam (a YRC member) drove me from downtown Traverse City to the lighthouse at 5:15 am, mind you he just arrived to Traverse City the night before about 9:30pm. Now at that hour neither one of us had much to say. So communication is not always as clear as it could be and I confirmed that we were headed to Old Mission Park. However, agreeing to this, Cam and Google got us to some rustic camping area that needed an all-terrain vehicle to leave. For those who know me and my lack of appreciation for trails, this had me concerned until I pulled up Google for the light house. Upon pulling into the parking lot at 5:45 for a 6 am start, I proclaim to Cam, “There is Dave. Our Dave.” Dave was to be my mile 41.2 – 57 pacer, but here he was hours early to see me take off.
Miles 1-10. Not much to report. I purposely started as the last person out of the gate. This allowed me to be slowed down, someone else to follow and worry about directions, and to not have the pressure of being in the lead or needing to stay in the lead. I had sadly forgot ear buds for music, so I started up conversations with a few runners. One from Wisconsin. We did not stay together long, but I recall waiving at his wife who was in his crew car often in the miles ahead. Then there was Tyler. We seemed to have similar time, stride, and age. Come to find out he works in sports with psychology of athletics. This led to conversation about psychology and PhD programs etc. Interesting how the universe conspires and puts likeminded people together.
Mile 10. Cam Slam Ala Ka Zam! There he was. My pacer. My friend. Cam was the first person I ran with after being adopted a few years ago and taking the first name of Erik. Cam was the person I jogged with when I found out a university was going to interview me for a PhD. Cam was the person who jogged with me when I found out I got accepted into the Ph.D. program. And here was Cam, my first pacer for a 100 mile race, full of energy, positive vibes, and a giant smile. We faced other pacers, rain, and the hunt for a bathroom. We conquered 23 miles together with music and without, with cooperative technology and without. We also faced the Holiday Hills together. Let me tell you. There is nothing holiday-ish about those hills. I surprisingly got a few steps ahead of Cam on the hills. I was surprised when we got to level ground and cruising speed again Cam said he was exhausted and was not going to run his race the next morning. Finally, I found out Cam is not super human. But he proved me wrong. He did run the next day. He ran a 13.1 mile race with 5:55 pace. Cam also told me that there was going to be a change in my pacers. I thought about this change in pacers and figured, well I can run some miles alone and find my thoughts. However, Dave had other ideas, for which I am thankful.
Mile 33: Here is Dave again, who happened to be at a previous aid station with drinks, food, and Gu. Dave stepped up to the plate to start his miles early and even started carrying my hydration vest. I am unsure of what mile we were at, but it was hilly and nice out and Dave would start singing to me to keep my mind occupied. “Hey now, you’re an all-star. . “ and much more. Did you know that Dave likes Backstreet Boys better than N’Sync? I do now. Mile after mile you get to know a lot about each other. I would tell Dave I was going to walk up a hill and then just jog my way through it and then Dave would report how proud he was and through it all he had a tone of excitement within his voice. I recall I also finally stopped wearing sun glasses with Dave (and still to this day, I do not like putting those sun glasses on. Apparently a whole day with sunglasses on a person gets sick of how they feel). I recall giving them to him to carry and never wanting them back. What surprised me most was when I would look next to me some 40 or 50 miles in, there was Dave. A friend, next to me. Someone I knew and cared about me. But we were in the middle of nowhere far from home. This may have been the start of the emotional journey of running an ultra-marathon and the transformative process that this type of race offers.
While with Dave, I also needed to find a bathroom. We found one. It was beautiful. Dark wood doors. Nice tile floors and clean. Luxury at its finest. Upon getting back on track I heard someone yelling and ringing bells. I presumed it was other racers crews, so I smiled and waved. We moved on and the car caught up with us. It was not just any one’s crew, but more YRC friends. This time it was Kim, my next pacer, and Darsh her husband who are also my neighbors. Windows down, screaming, bells ringing, music going, and cameras. Kim was so excited she got out of her car, jogged to us, and jogged a few feet with us for some pictures. Dave and I pressed on and Dave not only stepped up to start his pacing early but completed all of his assigned miles too. 15 miles turned into 25+. I also recall at one point telling Dave how much I appreciated him and thanked him for his love and I got a hug mid jog. He also made sure to snap pictures as I passed racers. We stopped at mile 58 and he gave Kim her instructions about feeding me, hydrating me, singing, and I could hear how much he did love and care for me. I was surround by YRC love and care. I changed my clothes, got some stretching, tried relaxing, but my heart rate came down and I got cold and began to shiver, so Kim and I were off to the races again.
Mile 58. Did I mention how excited Kim was? She ran ahead of her assigned meet up point to catch Dave and I and jog us back the next quarter mile. To Kim’s GREAT appreciation there were woods and nature to look at. Kim and I run regularly together beyond the YRC running group. Kim is always talking me into running to a park and woods and of course I told her I ordered this part of the race just for her. Just as I told her when she took me out for a training run a few weeks prior and I conquered 30 plus miles and we went to the botanical garden trail. I told her we were doing that trail just for her, despite her being on her bike, walking up at 6 am for me, and riding 30 miles, carrying a wet hydration pack for me, and spending her Sunday morning with me. Kim (and Darsh) hold a special place in my heart, we are all social workers, but we are more than neighbors and friends, we are family. Kim is a bundle of positive energy. Just happy. Wanting to help others and do what she can. I feel bad for her as I was not in a good head space with her. My eyes struggled to focus on things in the distance and I did not want to do any more math, as I was constantly doing math all day. How many more miles? When is my next check in? When do I change pacers? If I run an 11 minute mile, when will I finish? Etc. etc. Etc. And then the course had changed the day before so Kim was not ending at 68 but 72. So our math, our technology, no cell services, and my crabby attitude, Kim ‘carried’ me to mile 72 as we were trying to out run the sunset. But the sunset was beautiful and I got to experience it with a beautiful spirit, leading me along.
Mile 72. Maddy. It was dark. Maddy’s husband Nate gave me his gloves as it was getting cold. Maddy even put calve sleeves on me over my shoes. I had discovered I needed mile markers. Maddy was in charge of pace, time, and distance. We would walk half a mile and jog 2 miles. This got me into a great head space and maybe it helped to be out of the 60’s and into the 70’s and also to be at 72 not 68. I was starting to enjoy myself again. And surprisingly it was Maddy who was most nervous that I would be delirious and would not know what to do with me. I recall checking in to mile 80, feeling like it was no big deal. I was happy, she was happy. We had found our groove. I remember I had to ask her what time of the day it was. If my memory is right she saw me into midnight and into the next day. We ran through what I believe was the prettiest part of the run. We ran through downtown Charlevoix. We had the streets to ourselves, besides those at some bars. There were Christmas lights on the trees and I was ecstatic. Not in nature any more, but back in civilization. Then as we approached 83, there was Dave in his car leading the way. And Nate ready for his turn.
Mile 83. Nate had never run a half marathon before, but he had enough excitement for both of us and can haul when he needs to, he is built like a runner. I felt great, some tightness in my right leg from behind my calf up my knee, but only 17 miles to go. Here goes nothing. I felt so close to finish that I did not want to eat anything anymore. However, my leg got tighter, I had no fuel for running, and I was starting to get tired and need my eyes closed. We tried 2 mile jogs and .5 miles walks but it was not working. We slowly got to .25 jog and .25 walk. Those quarter of mile jogs just felt like they were taking a very, very long time. I started to get cold and was not able to stay warm despite my layers. We had stopped and Nate took his coat off and put it on me. I remember standing there on a trail just wishing the whole thing was over, but Nate was encouraging and gently put his coat on me, zipped me up, put my lights and reflective gear back on, and we started for aid station mile 92.
As we approached mile marker 92, I thought to myself, I am not finishing this race. I just cannot. There is nothing within me to give. I have no more fuel. It hurts to walk. I can’t jog without energy. If I walk I am cold. I do not have to be perfect. There is no shame in not always succeeding in everything I do in life as I had signed up for this race as a distraction from my PhD in Clinical Psychology application process. I got into the program, I have run 91+ miles in 22 hours. It is okay to not be ‘perfect’. I did not want to disappointment my friends, but my body had found its limit. 4:13 am 92 miles I had found my physical ending point or as Darsh would say I “found enlightenment.”
I have cried many times from the love of my YRC tribe and husband. My husband was in the car ready and willing to help however he could at all times and at all miles. He helped change clothes, encouraged me, was there to smile and love me. He also kept my friends updated through many texts and pictures. He drove me back to the condo, walked me up to our room, and ensured that I was showered and safely in bed. He even drove the whole way home the next day as I slept in the car. I have gotten many texts of love and support throughout the race and the following days. I think this was the hardest part. Not because I did not finish the race, but that everyone was proud of how far I had gone and they continued to share their love and support. Mike Nix, YRC owner and fellow running friend, had supported me with many a training jogs and wisdom, knowledge of running equipment, texts, and hugs. I had found a place on this planet where I belong, a member of the YRC tribe.
As I recovered at home and engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions from love, achievement, support, and care, I took to my piano. I played the song that I played when I was previously terminated from my career for being who I am, and when my grandmother (my spiritual confidant) passed away. I cried as I played as I heard all 6 plus feet of the instrument ‘sing’, “I am lost, if you take your hand from me; I am blind without light to see . . . . lead me, guide me, along the way; for if you lead me, I cannot stray.” This is what I had felt with my friends, the YRC tribe, and my husband. With these people by my side, 92 miles seemed like nothing and the next time 100 will be obtained.
So after running a minimum of 5K a day, today on what would be day 626 of my running streak, I did not run. I did not put on running clothes. But I sign off as,
Erik Hutchison, Runner.
On Saturday, June 1, 2019, I started the Lighthouse 100 ultramarathon race. The race began at 6 am at the Old Mission Lighthouse, Traverse City, MI.
Cam (a YRC member) drove me from downtown Traverse City to the lighthouse at 5:15 am, mind you he just arrived to Traverse City the night before about 9:30pm. Now at that hour neither one of us had much to say. So communication is not always as clear as it could be and I confirmed that we were headed to Old Mission Park. However, agreeing to this, Cam and Google got us to some rustic camping area that needed an all-terrain vehicle to leave. For those who know me and my lack of appreciation for trails, this had me concerned until I pulled up Google for the light house. Upon pulling into the parking lot at 5:45 for a 6 am start, I proclaim to Cam, “There is Dave. Our Dave.” Dave was to be my mile 41.2 – 57 pacer, but here he was hours early to see me take off.
Miles 1-10. Not much to report. I purposely started as the last person out of the gate. This allowed me to be slowed down, someone else to follow and worry about directions, and to not have the pressure of being in the lead or needing to stay in the lead. I had sadly forgot ear buds for music, so I started up conversations with a few runners. One from Wisconsin. We did not stay together long, but I recall waiving at his wife who was in his crew car often in the miles ahead. Then there was Tyler. We seemed to have similar time, stride, and age. Come to find out he works in sports with psychology of athletics. This led to conversation about psychology and PhD programs etc. Interesting how the universe conspires and puts likeminded people together.
Mile 10. Cam Slam Ala Ka Zam! There he was. My pacer. My friend. Cam was the first person I ran with after being adopted a few years ago and taking the first name of Erik. Cam was the person I jogged with when I found out a university was going to interview me for a PhD. Cam was the person who jogged with me when I found out I got accepted into the Ph.D. program. And here was Cam, my first pacer for a 100 mile race, full of energy, positive vibes, and a giant smile. We faced other pacers, rain, and the hunt for a bathroom. We conquered 23 miles together with music and without, with cooperative technology and without. We also faced the Holiday Hills together. Let me tell you. There is nothing holiday-ish about those hills. I surprisingly got a few steps ahead of Cam on the hills. I was surprised when we got to level ground and cruising speed again Cam said he was exhausted and was not going to run his race the next morning. Finally, I found out Cam is not super human. But he proved me wrong. He did run the next day. He ran a 13.1 mile race with 5:55 pace. Cam also told me that there was going to be a change in my pacers. I thought about this change in pacers and figured, well I can run some miles alone and find my thoughts. However, Dave had other ideas, for which I am thankful.
Mile 33: Here is Dave again, who happened to be at a previous aid station with drinks, food, and Gu. Dave stepped up to the plate to start his miles early and even started carrying my hydration vest. I am unsure of what mile we were at, but it was hilly and nice out and Dave would start singing to me to keep my mind occupied. “Hey now, you’re an all-star. . “ and much more. Did you know that Dave likes Backstreet Boys better than N’Sync? I do now. Mile after mile you get to know a lot about each other. I would tell Dave I was going to walk up a hill and then just jog my way through it and then Dave would report how proud he was and through it all he had a tone of excitement within his voice. I recall I also finally stopped wearing sun glasses with Dave (and still to this day, I do not like putting those sun glasses on. Apparently a whole day with sunglasses on a person gets sick of how they feel). I recall giving them to him to carry and never wanting them back. What surprised me most was when I would look next to me some 40 or 50 miles in, there was Dave. A friend, next to me. Someone I knew and cared about me. But we were in the middle of nowhere far from home. This may have been the start of the emotional journey of running an ultra-marathon and the transformative process that this type of race offers.
While with Dave, I also needed to find a bathroom. We found one. It was beautiful. Dark wood doors. Nice tile floors and clean. Luxury at its finest. Upon getting back on track I heard someone yelling and ringing bells. I presumed it was other racers crews, so I smiled and waved. We moved on and the car caught up with us. It was not just any one’s crew, but more YRC friends. This time it was Kim, my next pacer, and Darsh her husband who are also my neighbors. Windows down, screaming, bells ringing, music going, and cameras. Kim was so excited she got out of her car, jogged to us, and jogged a few feet with us for some pictures. Dave and I pressed on and Dave not only stepped up to start his pacing early but completed all of his assigned miles too. 15 miles turned into 25+. I also recall at one point telling Dave how much I appreciated him and thanked him for his love and I got a hug mid jog. He also made sure to snap pictures as I passed racers. We stopped at mile 58 and he gave Kim her instructions about feeding me, hydrating me, singing, and I could hear how much he did love and care for me. I was surround by YRC love and care. I changed my clothes, got some stretching, tried relaxing, but my heart rate came down and I got cold and began to shiver, so Kim and I were off to the races again.
Mile 58. Did I mention how excited Kim was? She ran ahead of her assigned meet up point to catch Dave and I and jog us back the next quarter mile. To Kim’s GREAT appreciation there were woods and nature to look at. Kim and I run regularly together beyond the YRC running group. Kim is always talking me into running to a park and woods and of course I told her I ordered this part of the race just for her. Just as I told her when she took me out for a training run a few weeks prior and I conquered 30 plus miles and we went to the botanical garden trail. I told her we were doing that trail just for her, despite her being on her bike, walking up at 6 am for me, and riding 30 miles, carrying a wet hydration pack for me, and spending her Sunday morning with me. Kim (and Darsh) hold a special place in my heart, we are all social workers, but we are more than neighbors and friends, we are family. Kim is a bundle of positive energy. Just happy. Wanting to help others and do what she can. I feel bad for her as I was not in a good head space with her. My eyes struggled to focus on things in the distance and I did not want to do any more math, as I was constantly doing math all day. How many more miles? When is my next check in? When do I change pacers? If I run an 11 minute mile, when will I finish? Etc. etc. Etc. And then the course had changed the day before so Kim was not ending at 68 but 72. So our math, our technology, no cell services, and my crabby attitude, Kim ‘carried’ me to mile 72 as we were trying to out run the sunset. But the sunset was beautiful and I got to experience it with a beautiful spirit, leading me along.
Mile 72. Maddy. It was dark. Maddy’s husband Nate gave me his gloves as it was getting cold. Maddy even put calve sleeves on me over my shoes. I had discovered I needed mile markers. Maddy was in charge of pace, time, and distance. We would walk half a mile and jog 2 miles. This got me into a great head space and maybe it helped to be out of the 60’s and into the 70’s and also to be at 72 not 68. I was starting to enjoy myself again. And surprisingly it was Maddy who was most nervous that I would be delirious and would not know what to do with me. I recall checking in to mile 80, feeling like it was no big deal. I was happy, she was happy. We had found our groove. I remember I had to ask her what time of the day it was. If my memory is right she saw me into midnight and into the next day. We ran through what I believe was the prettiest part of the run. We ran through downtown Charlevoix. We had the streets to ourselves, besides those at some bars. There were Christmas lights on the trees and I was ecstatic. Not in nature any more, but back in civilization. Then as we approached 83, there was Dave in his car leading the way. And Nate ready for his turn.
Mile 83. Nate had never run a half marathon before, but he had enough excitement for both of us and can haul when he needs to, he is built like a runner. I felt great, some tightness in my right leg from behind my calf up my knee, but only 17 miles to go. Here goes nothing. I felt so close to finish that I did not want to eat anything anymore. However, my leg got tighter, I had no fuel for running, and I was starting to get tired and need my eyes closed. We tried 2 mile jogs and .5 miles walks but it was not working. We slowly got to .25 jog and .25 walk. Those quarter of mile jogs just felt like they were taking a very, very long time. I started to get cold and was not able to stay warm despite my layers. We had stopped and Nate took his coat off and put it on me. I remember standing there on a trail just wishing the whole thing was over, but Nate was encouraging and gently put his coat on me, zipped me up, put my lights and reflective gear back on, and we started for aid station mile 92.
As we approached mile marker 92, I thought to myself, I am not finishing this race. I just cannot. There is nothing within me to give. I have no more fuel. It hurts to walk. I can’t jog without energy. If I walk I am cold. I do not have to be perfect. There is no shame in not always succeeding in everything I do in life as I had signed up for this race as a distraction from my PhD in Clinical Psychology application process. I got into the program, I have run 91+ miles in 22 hours. It is okay to not be ‘perfect’. I did not want to disappointment my friends, but my body had found its limit. 4:13 am 92 miles I had found my physical ending point or as Darsh would say I “found enlightenment.”
I have cried many times from the love of my YRC tribe and husband. My husband was in the car ready and willing to help however he could at all times and at all miles. He helped change clothes, encouraged me, was there to smile and love me. He also kept my friends updated through many texts and pictures. He drove me back to the condo, walked me up to our room, and ensured that I was showered and safely in bed. He even drove the whole way home the next day as I slept in the car. I have gotten many texts of love and support throughout the race and the following days. I think this was the hardest part. Not because I did not finish the race, but that everyone was proud of how far I had gone and they continued to share their love and support. Mike Nix, YRC owner and fellow running friend, had supported me with many a training jogs and wisdom, knowledge of running equipment, texts, and hugs. I had found a place on this planet where I belong, a member of the YRC tribe.
As I recovered at home and engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions from love, achievement, support, and care, I took to my piano. I played the song that I played when I was previously terminated from my career for being who I am, and when my grandmother (my spiritual confidant) passed away. I cried as I played as I heard all 6 plus feet of the instrument ‘sing’, “I am lost, if you take your hand from me; I am blind without light to see . . . . lead me, guide me, along the way; for if you lead me, I cannot stray.” This is what I had felt with my friends, the YRC tribe, and my husband. With these people by my side, 92 miles seemed like nothing and the next time 100 will be obtained.
So after running a minimum of 5K a day, today on what would be day 626 of my running streak, I did not run. I did not put on running clothes. But I sign off as,
Erik Hutchison, Runner.