Forgotten Florida 100 Christmas, Florida #67

I'm on a plane flying to my childhood home, Salt Lake City, for the funeral of my nephew Carter, who lost his life this last week at the young age of 23, just 10 days before I mark the 6-year passing of Dexter. The same age, 23, he shared in many of the same struggles as my precious son and my heart is completely torn for my beautiful, kind, selfless, faith filled sister Valerie. A person who would never intentionally do anything to harm another soul, now will carry the heaviest weight one could bear, for the rest of her life. I'm grateful to be going home to spend time with her, and Im just praying I can be even just a small source of comfort at this time. Having someone who understands the heart shattering loss, I know can mean a lot. Any time I meet or talk to another parent who has gone through this, there is an instant bond and love for our shared sadness. It will be a heavy week as I also prepare myself to mark again, the tragic day we lost our Dexter to suicide.

I didn't intend to run any more races in Florida. It seems like they are always a struggle with hydration and humidity, flat and not particularly beautiful, but when I found out my huge hearted friend Kevin, who took care of me at Froggy Mountain 100 as the RD, and crewed me most recently at Beast of the East, was going to tackle his first 100 miler, I knew I had to be down to run the same course with him! Being a much stronger, faster runner than me and having the amazing Paul Tilley as his crew and pacer, I didn't expect to see him out on the course much, but being able to share the experience and visit pre and post-race was a chance I couldn't pass up. My good friend Adam drove out from Ohio and we drove down to Florida together. Adam was coming along to crew/pace me. Jason couldn't make it because he couldn't take a week off from doing a job hunt and I intended to run Forgotten Florida, find peace and relax on the beach by myself for the week and then run Spare Pirate 100 this upcoming Saturday/Sunday, Sunday, Feb 25th being 6 years since Dexter took his life.

This time of year is always a struggle for me, flashbacks and nightmares plague me more often and sadness wells up inside uncontrollably at times. Rather than run to the Marine Corps Memorial like I have the last few years, I wanted to do an official race, and I thought time alone in a sunny warm place, painting and meditating would do my heart good. Sadly, on Valentines Day, we learned of my nephews passing, so instead of finding peace myself in this week before Dexters angelversary, I will do as the scriptures direct, mourn with those that mourn, comfort those that stand in need of comfort. I just wish it wasn't my beloved, darling sister. My poor, kind, gentle Valerie, unexplainable anguish of soul. This is where I need to be this week. It will be difficult, and memories will wash over me. My hotel is sitting empty in Florida, Adam is spending the week at his parents in Miami and then he, and a good friend of mine Cecy will be running Space Pirate 100 on Saturday, Feb 24, when I fly back. I met an amazing guy names Brandon who advocates for mental health support, and he volunteered to be our road crew for this point-to-point race with no aid stations... but anyway, this was all part of this drive down to Florida to do the Run Bums Forgotten Florida 100. Sean Michael aka Run Bum- has races that are notoriously epic, beautiful and difficult. I expected to see a whole bunch of sand, palm trees, grass and to run in grueling humidity and warm temps. Ended up having the opposite experience!

On the drive down I got an unexpected phone call from my new friend Chris that I met at Rocky Raccoon. He is the RD of the inaugural 110//220 mile race, Dark Sky up in Northern Pennsylvania. He gave me a free registration to come run his course because of my running for veteran suicide awareness. Well, on this call he told me just a little about his battle with ptsd and then how he had done something he'd wanted to do for a long time, create a nonprofit org where all the profits from his trail races would be sent in order to support veterans in a mental health crisis. I was so touched that I had been the motivating factor to get this started. He is hoping to eventually do a weekend running retreat for veterans who go through this mental health help, and asked if I would like to participate once it's up and running. I was like, absolutely!!! 100%!!! I felt so grateful to be thought of as a participant in doing such a tremendous, good work. I've had a couple random people recently ask what I intended to do after I finished 100 100s... which I find sortof ironic because just finishing that could be for some people, beyond a lifetime achievement, but this talk with Chris did give me a good opportunity to think about my steps beyond 100 100s. I was definitely grateful for the call. I can't wait to run his race and talk again in person!

With the Presidents Day weekend traffic, it took Adam and I a long 15 hrs to arrive in Christmas, Florida for packet pickup. Paul and Kevin were camping at the start line so we stood and chatted for an hour before hand. Honestly it was worth the drive just to renew our friendships and hang out for little while. Kevin is like a walking Ted Talk /motivational speaker. You can't leave his presence without being uplifted in total heart and spirit. He lost his nephew Collin in military service and has run for him, so he has a special understanding of my loss of Dexter. At Froggy mountain 100 he gifted me a folded flag that had flown over our race. He sent me this picture of the name of his campsite. It was so tender and we both felt that sacred movement in our hearts when you know something is meant to be. We both took is as a sign that Dexter is his friend and would be there for both of us this race. Kevin and Paul are very fast runners, so their plan was to do a 24 hour 100 miler, then come back out and run my remaining miles with me. I thought that would be so special and amazing. I jokingly said though, they could do that, unless I finished before they did. How true is it, that the unexpected in a race will occur! You can't take anything for granted, a lot can happen in 100 miles.

Got to the race start early and it was kind of funny, Adam was with me and after we parked the car we got lost in the woods just trying to make our way from the parking lot! That didn't bode well for a course that would be mostly flagged by painted trail blazes, but, we got there, had time to visit a few minutes with Kevin and Paul and wish Kevin good luck before hopping aboard a big shuttle bus to head to the race start.

There were 3 shuttles to take us to the actual race start where parking wasn't allowed. Easily over 100 people, and I happened to sit next to a guy named Randy who just happens to be one of the 10 runners signed up so far to do Dark sky! What is the liklihood? We had a great time talking about it and talking it up to the other runners around us. Randy found me at the race start (and finish!) to make sure we were connected before Dark Sky. This guy is strong, solid and still running HARD trail races in his 70s!! I want to be like that!

Kevin was able to drive to the race start because he was supposed to sing the national anthem. He said he'd accepted to the invitation to sing the national anthem just for me, because I wanted to hear it and wanted to hear him sing it! Unfortunately, the sound system didn't work out, so he and Paul grabbed me before race start and threw me in their car, and played a video of Kevin singing the national anthem at another race.That was so special, what a kind and amazing gesture, My heart filled with gratitude for special friends, a country I love, and my son Dexter who inspires such kindness from people to uplift me and support me. Thankful for Kevins understanding of a patriotic heart, being an uncle to a military veteran angel. Dillon.

I was always a better boy mom than girl mom, I thought. Always related to the boys better growing up and in all my friendships. I was looking at the pics of these 3 guys I was about to spend a grueling weekend with and feeling so grateful, knowing Dexter has brought these caring people into my life to take good care of his mamma in his physical absence, especially out on the trail where I work out my deepest heartaches, anguish and inner battles.

The morning was cool and couldn't have been more perfect for running. I had arm sleeves but never got hot or cold. Paul came out to run the first few miles of the start with Kevin and I... and what a team! I dunno that I've ever just had so much fun hitting a 100 trail with the best of buddies. We were moving at a comfortable quick pace and just having a lot of fun. We tried to talk Paul into just bootlegging the race and doing the full 100 miles with us, but he was gonna have to take care of Kevin in the 2nd half as a pacer and crew so he left us 3-ish miles in. I had the chance to run with Kevin off and on for awhile as our paces bounced back and forth with pit stops and such, but we stayed together pretty well until the first Florida swamp section. He flew through it like a gazelle and I got bogged down in the heavy tar-like mud. One girl near me sunk almost completely up to her thigh in this mud! So, I lost Kevin for a bit. I was pretty happy with the pace I was going, quick but comfortable, on target for 27-hour finish. The scenery was beautiful, about what I expected. Alot of ferns, palms, sandy rooty trail, but it was still beautiful. It was going to rain, and it had rained all night, but it was supposed to break until at least noon, but by 8-9 am a steady cold drizzle was coming down. I didnt need a coat or gloves but did need a poncho, mostly to keep my core as dry as possible so my body temp stayed up and wet clothes didn't chafe me to death. I ran a couple miles with a nice schoolteacher names Rebecca running the 50 miler, but I found I wasnt in a chatty mood so I mostly kept my distance from people...which wasn't easy to do. On mostly single track with a lot of runners, there was a fairly steady conga line for the first 10 miles. Fortunately it wasnt slow but it was kindof wall-to-wall runners. I was grateful for when we finally hit a road portion which gave everyone a chance to find their pace so I could have my space.

Was enjoying some homemade gingerbread cookies left over from Christmas and cookies & muffins from the aid stations. We ran past expansive fields with deep grass, freshly mowed and wet, tangling up our feet, through groves of beautiful palm forests, across slippery narrow foot bridges. The terrain was technical enough to be a challenge but still a lot of fun. I didnt see any alligators in the flooded areas, but we did get a warning sign!

Gratefully Adam came out to meet me at the 30 mile mark, I would need my headlamps because it was my only drop bag-crew stop between the start like and 50 mile finish line. Because of all the recent rain this winter in Florida, the ground was already saturated so with a day full of rain it wasn't long before the waterlogged soil started flooding and the trails started to become more difficult. It was so awesome to see him and I was shocked that I'd caught up with Kevin and was only just behind a lady named Lee Conner, an elite level athlete in my books. She often wins top female woman in our age group, sometimes overall, and is usually finishing several hours in front of me. I'd only chatted with her once in person but we'd interacted a little on facebook. She runs many hard races and is super experienced, so I was really happy to know I was on her tail! Adam wanted me to go catch her! Kevin screamed out of the Aid station but I was probably lagging 10 minutes behind them. Got to get a big hug from Adam and Paul and Kevin, just really lifted my happiness despite the rain and grey day.

In the quiet miles of the grey drizzle I thought about my Nephew Carter and prayed for my sister Valerie. The rain I thought, was fitting for our shared tears this week.

I didn't change my shoes and I was glad I made that decision because it was probably within a mile or two before we had the inevitable wet swamp to cross. Runners were navigating through more and more shin deep mud and stretches of water & flooded trail. I decided my feet were still doing okay so I'd wait to meet him a little later on to get a fresh pair of shoes & socks.

Sometime in the afternoon around 50k I ran back into Kevin. He was faster than me but I caught him in what we called Devils Swamp.

This was a mile long section of absolutely ridiculous deep mud that was so heavy and loosely wet it felt like we were trying and sometimes failing to jump log to log and dirt clump to dirt clump to avoid quicksand, you would sink so deep if you stepped in it! It was absolutely laughably difficult, slow and crazy! It was really fun to have that shared experience with someone I just love! After we survived it, there was a couple miles of flat gravel road, lots of mud puddles but you could navigate around them fairly well. Kevin and I talked a little bit more then he took off to stay on track for his 24 hr finish time. Sadly I wouldn't see him again until my race was over.

I had the amazing gift of conversations about veteran suicide during the daylight hours. I met 2 Army veterans who run a trail marathon fundraiser in Leadville Colorado, and have raised $350,000 in donations to support veterans. One thing they said to me which really got my heart, was how they got sick of doing 22 pushups a day, and knew they had to do more to help their brothers. Wow, so powerful. It made my efforts feel weak, but, we all lift where we stand and do what we can do. Until now, running is all I could do. Maybe in the future as I approach my 100 100s goal, and meeting people like RD Chris Raup, I'll have the opportunity to help have a larger impact, though the Warrior 100 veteran suicide awareness campaign with Wear Blue was more than I ever dreamed of doing!

I also ran with a guy, and I remembered his name for hours but it's gone now... he had 2 brothers who served in the Army, and both died by suicide. My word, the heartbreak. I had tears going down my face as we talked and I thought of the pain this guy carried, losing two siblings...and here he was out, part of a group of Army vets out running making a difference. So so powerful. Turning tragedy into strength. I was immensely blessed by these amazing men and said a heartfelt prayer of gratitude to God for putting them in my path. I hoped their angels would strengthen them as I knew my Marine boys would strengthen me in the hours ahead. The rain was dismal, I was soaked to the skin but not cold, as the sun wet down it seemed to rain harder and the temps dropped a lot, especially in the deep woods. The Florida Trail was much more primitive than I expected, it honestly felt like some portions trying to find just a bit of stable ground was like we were bushwhacking through an amazonian jungle. I was wearing a fairly new speedhoka hoka 5 shoe that had excellent grip and seemed to fit well, but I had my left shoe tied too tight and the pressure caused a muscle strain on the top of my foot that became incredibly painful. I texted Adam to see if he could meet me with my trusty speedgoat 4's that I buy second hand because they aren't made anymore. I didnt know if he'd make it by mile 45 or so, we'd planned to meet anyway at 50 where he was going to start pacing me, but I didnt know if I could take that excruciating pain for another hour++ I think partially it was caused by all the muscles in the foot being strained in strange ways trying to find footing throughout the stretches of mud and water. I was so so grateful he was there in the dark and rain to save my poor foot! At this time I switched I took off my socks and washed my gnarly swamp feet, slathered on vaseline and put on both dry socks and a bread bag to help give my feet a chance to dry out a little.

Headed back into the woods feeling much better, the strain on my foot released, happily it stopped giving me trouble. I took my time for the next 2 hours going along the roads and trail trying to find the shallowest water and mud I could walk through to keep my feet as dry as possible. I got some water in my shoes but the bags protected my feet for a little while, with dry feet I warmed up, it was probably in the mid 50s, but with the 100% humidity, rain and wet ground the conditions were absolutely a danger for hypothermia. Around mile 50-ish I had to hop aboard a shuttle that drove us across a highway, felt so good to warm up and just sit for a few minutes, then had a 2-mile run where I was able to catch Adam to come out and pace me. Getting out of the warm shuttle was a shock to the system and I started mildly shivering. I found a random baggie that looked like it had mentos in it, I had to pick it up to give to Adam, the long-standing pot joke, haha. I didn't intend to eat them but it was good for a photo op, lol

I had to blast through 2 aid stations half a mile apart, drinking some coke and gingerale and moving as quickly as possible. There was plenty of food but most of it was open packaging and I didn't really have any bags to keep them dry, so I just kept stuffing my pockets full of almond joys in the wrappers and used that for fuel along with soda. I was sick of gatoraid and not getting enough calories so I started doing a 50/50 mix with gingerale and it helped settle my stomach some. Adam was still at the car and texted me to wait a minute for him to come and pace, but I could feel my body was on the verge of hypothermia, even in those moderate temps, so I told him he needed to run hard to catch up because at this time I could not afford to stop. We had a 2 mile or so run on a gravel road which was a relief, but then the crucible began, dodging off into the jungle of palm trees, this soft trail turned to mush and flood. We basically waded through water and sludge for 12 miles. Maybe there was an aid station in there? I can't remember. All I remember is shivers, water, mud.

As we were going through this amazon jungle at night we came upon Lee who has moving forward with a couple guys, Corey and Peter. I remember them because Peter is my youngest's name, and Corey lost his father, so we had a chance to talk about grief and running for our loved ones, and how we feel them with us out on the trail. This part of the trail we were mostly following orange Florida trail blazes painted on the trees, some of which were high up and difficult to see in the dark. It was a tender mercy we were all together in a group of 5 at one very confusing point. We couldn't find the blazes and wandered around in the dark for what felt like a long time, getting cold and trying to find the path. Lee had already gotten lost once and had found herself back in this same place where she got lost in the first place. This is us all looking for the trail.

It was such a comfort to be together. I have admired Lee because she's such a powerful athlete, so going through survival mode with her in the swamp was a privilege. We were all starting to get cold but I could tell she was colder than I was, huddling her body up tight, her rain jacket didn't seem to be doing the job. I talked her into putting on my mylar poncho that got me through Shippey 100. I was in a really low place, feeling miserable, my right shin started experiencing some very sharp pains, I thought bruising perhaps from my brace with all the muscle strain of moving forward in slippery conditions. Cold, feeling nauseous, I was starting to moan and complain, if not out loud, in my head. I hated this. I wanted it to be over.

One of my most absolute favorite moments of this race came as I hear Lee reciting Invictus, and then the 23rd psalm.

Out of the night that covers me Black

as the pit from pole to pole,

thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul. 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

It was quite comical, her skinny bare legs from behind with this huge draped green poncho, hands raised high in the air as she said these powerful words....she looked like some Old Testament prophet, . We sang the "Lord is my shepherd" at Dexters funeral. Hearing those words in that dark place was a reminder to my heart and soul of why I was there, and suddenly I felt powerful and felt him with us, I knew we weren't alone and it gave me strength to push forward with maybe not more conviction, but definitely with less whining. I took time to try and focus in prayer on Shanen, Maggie, Brenda, Sally, Nina, Valerie...loved ones of the Marines on my back and loved ones in my pack. As dark a night we were in, nothing so dark as the walk in grief after traumatic loss. Survivors will always need prayers.

We finally found our path and trudged into the 100k aid station together.

There was a volunteer there named Willy who was an absolute saint! He helped me get my wet shoes and socks off, fill my bottles, pull stuff out of my drop bags and pack, throw away my trash, get me warm broth to drink. I just have this image of him kneeling on the ground picking up all my sodden socks and shoes and breadbags and just am so moved by this incredibly kind act of service by a guy out all night in the rain, there to help us meet our goals. I had a poncho on and had pulled out my space blanket to keep off hypothermia. Adam was helping me get the fuel and things I needed, most importantly my rain jacket. Finally warming up with an actual jacket on, I gave my space blanket to a guy sitting shivering in a chair and he wrapped it around his bare legs. I found out that somehow, I had gotten ahead of Paul and Kevin and was just shocked because they're such powerful runners. I was praying for them...this flat beautiful trail had turned into a flooded jungle nightmare. I had to block out thoughts of the alligators that would be swimming around!!! I was grateful to have Adams company as we headed out for a couple out and back sections. Poor Adam though... after a few more miles of sludging through mud on roads that should have been easy to run, and more flooded woods, slightly off course and trying to navigate back onto the path via Gaia, I sunk back mentally into a dark place. I was grumbling about the pain in my shin, the mud, the race, and Adam got the brunt of it. I didn't want to be with anyone anymore, I wanted to just be alone in my suffering. Adam was suffering from sleep deprivation and hallucinations and was falling behind so I was having to worry about him getting off path and getting lost if he got too far behind me, and yet I couldn't afford to slow down for fear of hypothermia. I told him he needed to drop out at the aid station and get a nap and recover a little bit and I could pick him back up later. He refused and forced himself back into alertness, determined to stay with me even though I spend a good half hour grumbling at him. Talk about a good friend, he bore it and refused to let me continue alone through this somewhat dangerous & sketchy night! There was beauty in this dark jungle, I appreciated that Adam took time to remind me to look around and not miss the experience in my misery.

We flew thru the next aid station and some warm fried chicken greatly improved my mood. We had a 7 mile out and back on a road ahead, 14 miles without aid, the longest stretch without an aid station. I was worried about carrying enough liquid and fuel but stomach was going south so it didn't matter much. The road was filled with puddles and mud so we went along having to traverse back and forth across the road for miles and miles to find the firmest ground. Painfully long hours. As we went along, we could see the faintest hint of dawn under the shadow of black clouds and that restored some hope that this ordeal was nearly over. We weren't far behind Lee and her wife. I was basically at a walking pace but still tried to keep up the semblance of a jog. All the runners out on this stretch were just slogging it out.

My shin started to feel like a knife was stabbing me, I dropped my baggie of pain meds someplace and was worried I wouldn't be able to finish without them, every step was very painful. Adam luckily had a stash of some extra strength stuff so I accepted it and was grateful I hadn't left him behind lol, because I needed the edge off the shin pain, especially for what was to come after we hit the last aid station.

By now the rain had let off, but it had done it's damage. Something like 3 inches of rain had fallen in 30+ hrs and the entire course was flooded with ankle deep water and mud, some knee-deep stuff. I gave up trying to find firm ground except in the shoe sucking mud and we just pushed straight forward through all of the water. Whatever was going to happen to our feet didn't matter now, we had to just keep pressing towards the finish. We hit the last aid station with like 12 miles to go. At least we were in the daylight. It was miserable. Every time we hit a stretch of “dry” trail meaning it wasn't flooded, my hopes went up that maybe we could start running again, but there was no stretch of runnable trail more than maybe a quarter mile long, tops. The rest was wading through the amazonian swamp, fallen logs, and clumps of mud starting to look like alligators. At least the weather was cool enough, I thought, probably too cold for snakes. I sunk into feeling irritable again and Adam and I slogged through these miles seperately. He was probably smart to just let me lead the way because if he was in front of me and I got close enough to touch him with my poles, I would poke him or whack him to move faster, ha. Smart man, stay back and let the upset woman do her thing. I was grateful he was with me. If I got more than mild hypothermia or got lost, it could quickly turn into a dangerous situation. We definitely needed to be together. We were both soaked to the skin and shivering and on the border of being hypothermic. Adam took it stoically and found joy in the moment, occasionally letting out a whoop about how fun and awesome and epic this was. I was more grumbling and complaining and praying that my brain would get out of the slump. 10 miles of wet beautiful wild remote misery. A few pics Adam took these last miles of the conditions. Pics do not do it justice!

Sick of pics of trees and water? I was sick of being in the middle of it, ha!

After what seemed like an eternity of wet, we reached the solid ground and sign of 2 miles left. Painful miles. I couldn't move fast enough to stay warm, shivering, feeling like I was about to throw up, we just jogged the best we could, every minute of the 35+ minutes it would take to go 2 miles feeling like hours. Finally, finally, finally, off in the distance was the finish arch. I tried to move faster but couldn't. The shin hurt, ready to hurl, shivering... until we heard the finish line yelling and cheering us in. My heart burst open and I felt tears hot on my face as I gave my last drops of energy to pick up the pace and reach these angels at the finish line, the encouragement feeling brighter than the sunshine I was craving!!

Finished. Solidly under 31 hours. 30:48:27. 2nd place age group female just 15 minutes behind Lee. Run Bum Sean the RD was totally awesome and gave me a hug and the beautiful buckle, but my favorite was Kevin waiting for me at the finish line. Felt like a big brother welcoming me with a huge hug and so much help. I started shivering like crazy and could barely stand upright. Kevin ran to get my car ...felt like it took sooo long to finally reach warmth. I could hardly talk. People kept asking how they could help me and I just couldn't answer, I just needed my warm car. Kevin pulled it up and got me right in, helped me get my shoes and socks off, a warm coat on with the heater cranked up and the seat warmers on. After a few minutes I stopped shivering, but got sick and threw up a few times. God bless Kevin, he grabbed a gallon of water to wash away all the black vomit on the ground. After I regained my composure, I found out that Kevins race had ended at 100k. He came into that aid station just behind me with Paul, shivering with hypothermia. He was standing to get a drink and food when he passed out and started having convulsions. Thank God there was an EMT there, they got him in a chair and after he woke up and was delirious for a few minutes, he slowly came to. But, he was not in a safe condition and he was unable to continue. It highlighted how dangerous the conditions were that we were running in. It hit me so hard that he could have fainted out in the swamp with no help, Paul having to figure out how to get him medical attention. I felt like Dexter and Dillon had surrounded him with protection and made sure Kevin was safely attended to. That thought came to my heart with clarity and strength of truth.

Adam drove me back to my motel. I was ripped that the washer and dryer weren't working, I would need to fly out first thing in the morning to SLC Utah for Carters funeral, then fly back to Orlando by Friday to get ready to run Space Pirate 100. I only brought one set of race clothes, counting on laundry, so instead of crawling into bed and sinking into oblivion, I spent an hour washing all my muddy clothes, pack, shoes n socks in the bathtub, scrubbing them with a bar of cheap crappy soap. The water ran black and I don't think I got everything nearly clean enough, but I hung it all up to dry around the room before leaving to Utah in hopes it'll be dry and ready for Space Pirate.

Going home to SLC. Some time with my sweet daughter Hannah and my girls Ellie and Lucy, but

how, how do I watch my sister in agony, bury her son? The same week I lost my son. My precious sister, who was one of my biggest supports in losing Dexter, I hope I can be as much of a strength for her as she has been for me. Our poor poor sons. One of the hardest things I have dealt with in the aftermath of losing Dexter, is just the heartache of knowing how he suffered and the pain he lived with. Even knowing he is now at peace and the pain has become softer, it will always be with me. Dear Carter, Dear Dexter, you are both soooo loved and missed. When you're exploring the stars, remember to come check on your mothers. We still need you. Please if youre reading this, say a prayer for my sister Valerie, to find the peace and strength she needs to move forward carrying this impossibly heavy weight.

To the families of Taylor, Jake, Jacob, Morgan... I know your pain and love, the sacrifices your sons made for our country, the toll it took on their mental health, the missing, the sadness, the glimmers of joy that peek through when we feel them with us. I am grateful to be carrying them on this journey with me. I pray their lives will continue make a difference.

I have videos I'd love to add to this race report, but as I'm traveling, maybe I'll get to it back home in Virginia. For now I'm just glad to get this race blog wrapped up before #68 this coming weekend.