I’m going to start with thanking my daughter Cypress. Anytime I go out for a run on a big push, I know you are watching. I hope my drive to live creates one even greater within yourself as you flourish and grow. The world is yours to explore daughter. Thank you for being my driving force to explore it myself.
Back to the run. I was set on heading out March 19th from Omaha, NE. One problem, a blizzard decided to develop. I pushed my start date back one day to March 20th while I sat at home watching the developing storm carefully. I felt as though I was a child again and waiting anxiously for Christmas morning, only to find Christmas had been delayed a day. I’d be fine, nerves were a bit high though.
We left Collins, Iowa around 4:30am on Thursday March 20th. Got to Omaha and almost started the run in the wrong spot still on the Iowa side of the border. Rookie mistake, Ha! Ohhh, anyway we drove across the bridge to the correct starting point to hit up a gas station to use the restroom and to use the parking lot for my dynamic warmup. I got my warm up in, said a prayer, and headed to the “Welcome to Nebraska” sign.
Day one. I took a couple deep breathes started my watch and began my journey. Omaha was full of snow and ice on my departure. The morning rush hour was in full force as well. I couldn’t wait to get out of Omaha so I picked up my pace to around a 9-9:30. Almost got hit by a truck (my fault) in an intersection, weaved around more traffic than anticipated, and slowly climbed my first large hill leading into the Iowa countryside. My plan was simple to execute and adapted from the Backyard format. Have my crew ahead 5 miles each time. Just a bunch of 5 mile runs…the towns I passed through on day one embraced me fully and showered me with support. I remember reading Paul Noble’s report and his dislike of Griswold, Ia. Griswold treated me like a king. People with signs cheering me along, folks out taking photos, and just a buzz in general about “the guy running across Iowa”. The support I received on the highway never ended. I reached my goal of 80 miles on the day. Didn’t walk up one hill. And kept a steady rhythm as planned. I stopped for about 3 hours at the car. Worked on my feet, did my recovery routine, and slept for about an hour. Day one was a success, plan worked perfectly so far.
Day 2. I woke up in the back of the Subaru and ate some real food for breakfast. I did my dynamic warmup and was surprised how fresh my body felt. I knew at this moment my training and nutrition was spot on. I was good to go. I went through my dynamic warmup and got going. I knew this part of the route a bit as it was traversing central Iowa. My goal for the day was get in 60 miles. Pacer joined me for the first time during this segment. And what a joy it was to have company. The first to join were my track and cross country athletes. What a joy it was to have many of them sacrifice their own time and bodies to help their old coach accomplish his goals. Their parents selfless in being willing to spend countless hours of the day and night to support me as well. I felt the love. My friend Hali also joined me for several hours which was very cool. And then, a previous record holder Taylor Ross showed up to join me. Taylor is someone I have looked up to for years as an artist, human, and athlete. I first met him when he was just out of high school but had never spent much time with him. His presence empowered me in a way I had never felt. I felt honored and thankful to have him by my side. We experienced some decent wind and a little rain day two. All in all the weather was decent. Until the night. The wind picked up to 40mph gusts and the battle was on. I adjusted my stride and attempted to use the wind as an advantage. Some moments it worked, others the wind was blowing my small frame around. Nothing new, just had to remain adaptable. I finished out the day with 60.23 miles. It took longer than expected as I stopped and talked to as many people as possible on route. The support was endless and I wanted to show thanks. I also had to spend about 30 minutes in a coffee shop to poop my brains out. No more gels for me the rest of the run. I stuck with Maurten 320 Drink mix using orange juice instead of water the rest of the run. I called it a day. Did my recovery routine. Hooked myself up to my pneumatic boots and fell asleep for an hour and a half in the back of the Subaru again.
Day 3. I woke up to the sun and ate a little real breakfast once again. Did my dynamic warm up and hit the road. At this point of my FKT attempt I need to be honest. I cannot remember all the details. Sleep deprivation had begun and I was simply out there executing my plan. Staying steady with my rhythm, not listening to my body much, and really just locked in. I had several of my student athletes join me as pacers once again. Their families in tow full of support toward me. My family forever present as well. And the strangers lined along the highway kept coming. Taylor Ross joined me once again just after sunset. He decided he was going to run with me through the night. I still fight back tears thinking of his selfless nature. Actually, I’m no longer fighting them back while typing. I’m crying. Taylor and I had countless beautiful conversations. I felt as though I suddenly knew him forever, a bond I will forever hold close to my heart. We got to Knoxville and I took a break for some jimmy johns with my family and crew. Taylor received a call from the current record holder (and absolute stranger to me) Paul Noble. Paul had just got back from a vacation in Mexico City. This wild man decided to come out and spend the night running with Taylor and myself. You read that correctly, the two previous record holders came out and became my guiding lights through the night. I fucking love the ultramarathon community. Paul brought youth to the table along with a blue tooth speaker. Taylor had told me about Paul’s youthful playlists in which I was excited to witness. What does Paul do? Starts blasting AC/DC. I’m thinking this kid likes “AC/DC”? Must be an old soul in there for sure. One song plays, not sure which one as I never had been a fan. I hear Taylor ask Paul, “Did you google “playlist for 40 year old male”?” Paul replies more or less “Yeah, I don’t know what type of music old dudes listen to.” Ha! I’m dying laughing. I love these dudes. DJ Paul did end up playing us his own playlist and it did not disappoint. I knew maybe two songs. The old man kept trucking along while the youthful two who were with him laughed, danced, and flat out enjoyed life. I’m forever thankful toward both of them and look forward to future hang time. Paul and Taylor left with the sunrise. I climbed into the Subaru one last time after my recovery routine. Slept for an hour with my pneumatic boots on in the back of the car. Being a little dude was really paying off concerning my sleeping arrangement.
Final Push
I woke up after a quick nap. Ate a little real food. Did my dynamic warm up and hit the road. The morning was full of cold rain and strong winds. The 40 mph gusts were back. My best friend and crew chief is a combat war veteran. He had been displaying signs of mania throughout the journey but I still trusted him as he was a childhood friend. However, this morning things were off. He was actually beginning to lose his mind. I sensed it, so did everyone else. He came running down to me from the cars in the cold wind and rain. Took all his clothing off minus his boxers and snapped. He was no longer the person I knew and loved. He threatened to kill me and shoved me to the ground. I hoped up and high tailed it to the crew cars. Upon arrival we began removing all of my gear from his vehicle. Called non emergency services as well, unfortunately, the sheriff department was on the way. He proceeded to assault my father, and shoved my daughter, then myself in the mix. At which point I subdued him. He crawled into the ditch (still pouring rain) and cried out until the Sheriff deputies arrived. I was injured from the push and fall. He was taken to the VA Mental Health Hospital where he still is today. I’m not going into further detail, however, experiencing this moment first hand showed me we need to do a better job taking care of combat veterans. He snapped. They snap. Because they never receive the care they desperately need. I was injured during the situation from the shove to the ground. I tripped over my gear on the ground and smacked by head hard on a car bumper. Along with the head issue I also hit my right knee very hard on the gravel shoulder. Straining my left hamstring. Oh well, focus on the solutions…not the problems. My community stepped up huge and took over as my crew. They became my guiding lights. They showered me with love and support. They treated my hamstring. They cared for me.
Going into the night I was beginning to really cut it close on Paul’s record. The amount of time spent with authorities during the assault situation along with the time spent “fixing” my hamstring ate up a lot of clock time. I developed a new plan with my new crew and began to execute it as best as possible. Aaron (an athlete I coach) and my daughter Cypress paced me for countless miles through the end. Aaron ended up being my main pacer throughout while putting over 50 miles on his legs throughout the adventure, cypress over 20 herself. They guided me to the finish. Two teenagers who I coach, gave it all for me. I am forever grateful to both of you and I know you both know how much I love you.
I pushed HARD those last several hours thanks to my new crew chief Kaitlyn lying to me about how much time I had to beat Paul’s record. I entered a dream state allowing my subconscious to take over. The babbling fool had finally arrived. I used my trekking poles to assist my injured hamstring and powered on. Once I was within the lights of Muscatine I slowly released myself from my subconscious and entered reality again. Cypress and Aaron right there with me through all the babbling and carrying on. We had a police escort lead us to the wrong bridge. Which I knew as we passed the pedestrian bridge Paul and Taylor had used. No problem, an extra mile or so didn’t matter. The town of Muscatine came out to support me along with my crew and members from my own community. It was a beautiful moment in time crossing that bridge with student athletes I coach. I knew I had showed them something special. And I look forward to all of them applying what they learned to their own lives.
We crossed the border and ran all the way to the Welcome to Illinois sign. Exchanged some hugs. Took some photos. And then a police officer gave me a ride back across the bridge to an ambulance which was waiting to check my vitals. In the words of the paramedics to my family and crew, “these are the best vitals we have ever seen…and he just ran over 275 miles.” I wasn’t surprised one bit. I knew how hard I trained, I knew how disciplined my diet was, I knew my body was ready.
I headed off to a Perkins only to be served the nastiest breakfast of my life. Ha! Oh, what a wild ride. And what a story of the power of community, human connections, family, and most importantly. The power of love. Onward.