February 25, 2018, my world changed forever. The person I was died that Sunday afternoon when I came home from church and found my son dead from a self inflicted gunshot wound. The horror of that moment still haunts me, haunts my dreams, and it nearly broke me. By the grace of God, a caring family and a very loving husband, I survived my darkest days stumbling through a nightmare of grief. The only relief I ever really found was in running. It was there I'd pour my heart out to the heavens and find Dexter's spirit out in the mountains, waiting to run with me. I'd sob until my stomach hurt and I couldn't breath and I thought my heart would surely shatter into a million pieces. I honestly didn't know how a heart could so physically hurt, and still continue to beat. I was always on the edge of waiting, even hoping for, my last breath. That first year I often wished I'd get hit by a semi truck, fall off a cliff, get terminal cancer. Anything to dull the pain of Dexter's death. I could hear my own cries and screams reverberating in my ears day and night. Looking back, I really don't know how I made it...not sure I would have if I hadn't been able to run out these emotions and feel the Savior and Dexter beside me. My poor Jason, I was nothing less than a messy monster of grief the first 2 years, but he stuck with me when I thought he'd be better off without me, and was a constant anchor and support who picked up all the other pieces of our lives while I was just hanging on by my fingernails. Somehow, God helped us hold our lives and most of our family together through those dark days and here we are, 5 years later, surviving, loving, laughing. Our days are touched with moments of sadness and heartbreak but its softer now, most days.
5 year anniversary. How could it be 5 years already? I didn't know how I'd survive living 40+ more years with this pain, but time moves us forward.
I wanted to do this course again, my 3rd year. From my home in Berryville Virginia at 12:01 am, run to Dexter's grave in Round Hill Virginia, then run the full day and night of Feb 25 to honor Dexter's life and to raise awareness about veteran mental health and suicide, reaching Washington DC and after some miles in the city, finishing 100 miles at the National Marine Corps War Memorial. I thought I might be running all alone this year but 2 weeks out my good friend and pacer, Paul Tilley, volunteered to run the entire 100 with me. I was a little unsure because he is fast and a total mountain goat. A beast on trails, mountains, technical terrain, and this is a relatively flat, paved run. For him to offer to run a non official race, paved course into the city to help me honor Dexter was such a huge gift and act of service. I felt so blessed to have such a friend and I knew I would feel safe and be quicker.
Earlier in the week my sweet friend from England, Derry, ran 10 miles with me on the Manassas Civil War Battlefield to remember Dexter and it was really a good way to get my head and heart ready for this emotional 100 miler. I felt really great out on the trail with him. I've been nervous about this run for awhile because I know how much the pavement hurts after sooo much pounding, especially on my knee, the daunting cold weather, and being somewhat of an emotional & hormonal wreck all month. Every training day had been a struggle. Getting out on the battlefield, being reminded of Dexter's love of history, just helped me get my mind in gear for this 100.
Last year it took me 30 hours to run it, granted I was 3 months out from my partial knee replacement and had Covid lol, but I hoped I could pull off a much better time, something in the 26-28 hour range. With Paul offering to run with me, because he is the most talented, excellent pacer, I thought by some miracle maybe, maybe we could get under 26 hours and compete for my fastest outdoor time of 25 1/2 hrs .
Early in the day Friday Jason and I drove around for 4 hours leaving out drop bags full of candy, snacks, Nesquick & apple-juice with bottles of water along the route up until our first “aid station” at my friend Margaret's house, mile 65. I was having some reservations remembering at each spot how long and boring the W&OD path into Washington DC is. I was annoyed at the last minute to have to throw feminine supplies into all the bags. An inconvenient technical detail of being a female runner. At least I knew it meant my heart rate should settle out a little lower, though it would annoyingly add a few extra minutes to every stop.
While we were doing drop bags, Paul drove 4-5 hours from his home in Southern Va, and despite having some extenuating circumstances which might have kept him home, he showed up right on time for a big lasagna dinner made by my kids, some chatting and then a 5 hour nap at the house on an air mattress, so we could start our run at 12:01 am sharp. We both got some decent sleep and were up at 11 pm gearing up, snapped a couple pics and headed out the door, me, with a full heart and a heavy sigh. Excited for the adventure ahead but knowing my why, my heart was a little heavy with all kinds of emotions...12:01 am February 25. :(
We started our watches and took a few steps down the driveway when I saw what I thought was a police car, lights on, sitting in front of the house. I felt my guard go up and warily eyed the person getting out of the car, but in a second, I recognized people from my church. They had come out to my start line to cheer me on and made a huge poster and hung it on my fence. Oh my gosh, my heart was already on edge and I started crying and hugged them all, and I'm not much of a hugger. Really, I don't think they could possibly know how much that meant to me. So much. We gave lots of hugs and as we ran down the road they drove past waving and cheering, then cheered us again a little further off. It meant the world to me. See, we'd just bought our house and started going to church in our area only 2 months before Dexter died, so we really didn't have many friends or anyone we knew well. When he died though, the congregation was just amazing, they helped so much with the funeral and bringing in meals and things... but after a couple weeks they all returned to their lives and we were just sort of left in this burnt down structure of what had been a family, all shattered... I was still running, so everyone just thought I was “so strong” but in reality, running kept me alive, I had no emotions, no nothing for anything or anyone except my grief. Because of that my emotions were so raw, I was a very difficult person to be around, and I didn't want to be around anyone. Even someone at church asking me a simple “How are you?” would send me into a private rage. I'd think to myself “How the hell do you think I am? My son is dead”... stuff like that...led me from being very active in participating in church to becoming a back bencher, slipping in after meetings started, slipping out before they ended. It got easier over time but as I distanced myself and never wanted to make an effort to get close to anyone, nobody really got close to us. It was a seedbed for my own personal resentment that I'm ashamed of, but I also realize is very normal for grieving people and especially suicide survivors on the journey through their personal hell. Because of that I never really felt like anyone cared about us or what we'd been through, especially after I had 2 sons lose their faith. So for me having these kind selfless people leave their warm homes in a freezing night, and come to my personal turf and grieving grounds to hug me and let me know they remembered me, said my sons name... man that just melted every part of my icy heart and I silently prayed a few moments for forgiveness for being such a harsh person. I'd been praying over the last few months to try to break through this emotional barrier I'd put up between myself and anyone I knew from church. And well, whoevers idea that was, I think they were inspired. Don't get me wrong though... my faith never, ever, ever wavered. My faith in fact, my hope in Christ, in his atonement, death, resurrection, was my lifeline, my one thing I could cling to...my hope of being reunited again with Dexter in body and spirit. I never considered leaving church, ever. I just couldn't handle human relationships in the raw state I was in. It was really a very healing moment for me. Feeling like a burden I didn't realize I'd been carrying had been lifted. It was just, wow. I hope to be better in the future.
Paul and I cranked out the early miles chatting and having a great time. My heart rate was running high, higher than it should have been, but I pushed through and it felt like we did a good safe early pace. We talked about everything under the sun and it was so nice to be with someone I could just talk about anything. We have a lot of things in common so I think we really get each other as running companions, not everyone understands the slightly weird mind of an ultra runner. Also, its so great to talk to someone who doesnt get bored of hearing your running stories! We grabbed donuts at mile 6 out of my “On a diet” McDonald's lunch bag that SSgt Wilson's wife, Nina gave me... eating low carb since the beginning of February, that was the most delectable Boston cream I've ever eaten! Turned off my lamp to check out the Shenandoah River as we crossed the bridge, which I love doing, then power hiked our one big climb up to the AT trail head, about mile 14. I thought we were doing probably a 27 hr finish pace, just taking it at a solid steady workhorse pace. I felt like I'd be holding back Paul in any other race because he is such a fast runner, but this was a different kind of run, this was for purpose, not time, so I tried to relax and not worry about what our final time would be.
After we topped the mountain, I told him I'd probably just be quiet while we covered the miles to the cemetery. I needed time to quietly talk to Dexter in my heart, for my mind to replay the events of that terrible day, for me to pray and remember my great hope and feel gratitude that I was only separated from Dexter by an invisible veil, and that we would be reunited. We chatted just a little bit about the rolling hills, there were some little steep ones we power hiked but then ran all the downs pretty fast and it was just a wonderful rhythm and pace, under a sky full of stars. Briefly looked at my phone and saw my sweet friends in England as a family had run a collective 20k that morning in Dexter's honor. Warmed my heart so much and brought a tear to my eye that love for my sweet son reached across an ocean. What a miraculous thing!!
As we came within about a half mile sight of the cemetery, Starry Night from Don McClean came on my playlist, and I really lost it.
Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do But I could have told you, This world was never meant for one As beautiful as you
I think Paul realized so he pulled ahead and gave me some time to myself while I just cried a butt load of tears heading into to Dexter's grave. It was an emotional release I needed, I was able to collect myself at the grave with a few minutes to myself, then Paul and Jason came over and introduced Paul, laid some flowers, a new USMC flag and some rocks from another race, then went on our way. It's always a little hard leaving, as is visiting the gravestone in the dark and cold. The sad mother in me wants to just lay a warm quilt on the grass in front of his headstone. I have to remind myself that he's not really there, what makes Dexter, Dexter, is his spirit, and I know it's with me whenever I need him. It's not trapped in a cold grave. One day neither will his body be.
We were making time, hit the cemetery a solid hour before I had the year before and again on our way still hours before sunrise. We got on the W&OD trail, a 42 mile trail that goes from Purcelville to Arlington, Virginia. It has a few road crossings but for the most part it's nice to not worry about cars and with the cold, there were very few folks out either running or on bikes. It was worth the cold to have it all to ourselves and we were moving quick enough to stay warm. Grinding out hour after hour on that trail though, is mentally and physical draining. There are some little hills but for the most part its the same muscles moving you forward and wearing down, pounding the pavement hour after hour after hour. It was always a treat to find a porta-potty, most of the time we were ditching behind trees or bushes to make quick pit stops. I had our drop boxes of supplies placed just about every 6-8 miles so when the trail felt like it was winding on forever I just tried to think of only the next stop to refuel. Taking it one segment at a time.
We covered quite a bit of distance in the dark and had a nice sunrise and a short hour or two of morning sunshine to lift our spirits and give us energy for the day, I just closed my eyes and felt the warm rays and tried to soak it in. We warmed up well and kept pounding out the miles. Fueling mostly on Nesquick and me, applejuice. Asphalt, power lines, trees, backyards. Not much to see, just a step above a treadmill really! We quietly listened to music some of the time and chatted about everything at others. I was carrying Dexter's Marine Corps Kbar knife...as a memorial more than anything, but I used it to cut the tape on the drop boxes that I had to tape closed to keep animals out of them. I accidentally cut myself this tiny little half inch slice, but that dumb little cut bled like crazy. I mean, for hours! It completely soaked the top of my mitten. I finally found some old tissue laying by the side of the trail to soak up the blood and eventually it finally stopped. I thought about using a feminine product in my pack haha but I decided finding tissue would probably be less embarrassing, lol.
By 9am or so the skies started to cloud up and we ended up running under icky grey skies for hours, until the storm rolled in that pelted us with icy snowflakes like tiny hail that stung when they hit your face. As it started to come down heavier Paul cheered a big hooray, and I laughed because it's a special breed of people who under extreme circumstances like physical exhaustion and pain, cheer at added adversity. Talk about crazy! Ha! I was glad when the flakes got bigger and softer, they fell heavy for awhile but melted fortunately. It was quite pretty and the best part is that it drove most people off the path so we continued to have the trail mostly to ourselves. Some point in the afternoon a Marine ran up behind us and asked about the guys on my pack and about our run, cheered us on. That was really energizing, a little while later I guess he told someone he knew because a lady ran past us from the opposite direction also cheering us on. So great, little moments like that just lift the spirits when you're getting tired.
Paul clearly was enjoying the scenery, ha! There were a few little magical things on the way, though.
50 mile selfie! I'd struggled a bit the first 13 miles but felt great going the distance to 50. Hit 100 k in just about 14 hours, my fastest outdoor 100k! I thought, maybe I will match that 25.5 hr PR! It was in sight! It was kindof blegh getting into more populated areas where we had to watch out for more cars and runners and try harder to find bushes to dart off for a quick pee. We got off the W&OD and headed up city streets and into Margaret's neighborhood hitting a couple steep little hills, that actually felt good to just power walk up. A nice change of muscles but I felt slow and tired and sore, my stomach was starting to feel a little off and I knew I was probably not hydrating enough, it was hard to tell being cold but still sweating just how much electrolytes I should be taking in. We had a few treats early on...PB& honey, heath bars, a couple gels, some Swedish fish, but 90% of my fuel was just that Nesquick and apple juice. I was really enjoyed the running with Paul, he does an excellent job of matching my pace and never made me feel like I was slowing him down or pressured me to speed up. I felt like I was too slow, but at the same time I just pushed as I could and kept my eye on the importance of the run instead of worrying about my pace.
We were sooo happy to get to sweet little Margarets aid station! We were able to use her warm cozy 5-star bathroom to warm up. I took some time to take my shoes off so I could get my knee sleeves off, I could feel I was starting to get bruising from them, and rub some Voltarin cream into my legs, clean up a little in the sink. If I'd tried to do that in a porta potty, I would have gotten chilled to the bone, so I was very grateful for a warm bathroom. It had been so cold that my sweaty braid had frozen solid, and Paul has ice in his beard! Despite our pretty solid pace on pavement my knee wasn't swelling, fortunately! Was hoping to meet Jason there with dry coat, hat & gloves but he was off a little on his time, so we planned to meet in a few miles at the USMC memorial. Margaret being the angel she is, had hot chocolate and warm macaroni and cheese for both of us, somehow keeping them at the perfect temp even though we were out at the trunk of her car. I downed half a coke to settle my stomach, gulped the hot chocolate that warmed me up and felt sooo good to drink, then she got on her bike, sadly not being able to run with us because she'd injured her ankle badly last month at Dark Anchor which we ran together, and led us for a mile or two to another trail to take through the city which made our run easier. We followed and I drank down a hot cup of noodles that she had ready for me, not to mention extra salt! :-D Boy it was a mood lifter. I felt sooo much better. I wasn't sure how all that food would sit in my stomach later, but it really gave us both a boost.
It was really special to come up over a hill and see the monument...late afternoon but still hours from sunset, unlike my previous years! Jason met us there...another warm bathroom! A couple Marines he had been chatting with cheered us into the 'Mustang' aid station, lol. It felt amazing to switch into a dry coat, hat and mittens. Choked up, arriving at that special place carrying my baby boy Marine and his heavenly buddies, said a prayer for each of their families and said their names there at the memorial. This was mile 70. We still had 30 miles to go so we didnt stay for long.
Said goodbye to Jason, I didn't grab quite enough calories for the next 10 or so miles, but it worked out okay after all the food I'd eaten at M's. I was super thrilled to take Paul to all the amazing monuments at the mall in Washington DC. First we headed along the river in Potomac Park to the Jefferson Memorial. I love that memorial, Thomas Jefferson was such an interesting, good hearted, once in a 100 generations kind of a man. We owe to him so much of our freedoms. I've read many books about him and visited his estate and just feel such a love for him!
A brief hello and we headed towards the mall, ran up the middle gravel path towards the capitol. It was about this time when Hannah video called with Jason on the line so that we could “attend” our little Ellies 3rd birthday party. Ellie is so special, coming into our family on the 2 yr anniversary of losing Dexter, a special gift from heaven to give us joy on a difficult day. Shes a spunky, independent, creative, freedom loving child with a smart little sense of humor, a lot like her uncle Dexter. Paul was so kind and a good sport, as we slowed down so I could watch Ellie open all her presents and sing happy birthday. At this point we were seeing the Capitol building...seat of power of the worlds greatest nation...sadly full of corruption nowdays, so I didn't mind not really seeing it too close. Tried to do a slow jog but it definitely slowed us down a bit... I wouldn't have missed Ellie's party for anything though!
After the party we hunted for porta potties on the mall, having to ditch behind a church tent (am I going to hell for peeing outside a 24 hr church? lol) before we headed north for a quick detour to see the WWI memorial (15-20 million lives lost in WWI) a quick look at the white house, then back down to the Washington Memorial. Here and there fast runners would sprint by us two ol cripple hobblers, it was always kind of funny, because they absolutely did not have 70+ miles in their legs!
That is my favorite place on the mall, because George Washington is one of my top personal heroes. I love everything about his life, and his influence on our becoming a country. We literally wouldn't have survived as a country without his leadership during the Revolution, creation of the Constitution or his early example of leadership as the first President of America. Love love love him. Paul caught me hugging the memorial. :-D
The sunset about this time was gentle pink and went down quickly, so we saw the WWII Memorial as it got dark, which is always a humbling experience. My 100 buckle for this run belonged to a grandfather, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Shaughnessy, who fought in WWII. My mothers father Cyril Peter Wilson, also fought, so I decided since we'd be going to the WWII memorial, to carry their pictures, remember them, and put miles of honor behind that buckle before I felt I could put it out for display. It was really special to think of them. I never met either one but somehow, I feel that I sense Grandpa Wilson with me at times in races. It was really special to see these places for the first time through Paul's eyes, too! Sadly the fountains were drained, and somewhere on the trail I lost Grandpa Wilsons photo.
We went through the Vietnam memorial twice and I did a little prayer for my friend Frank, a surviving veteran. Just quietly looked at the names, it's so much more moving to see those names alone in the dark. So many lives lost, so many untold stories of bravery & sadness. Then we headed to see the Lincoln Memorial.
I turfed it pretty hard hitting the side of my foot on a curb just as Jason tried to call me but was fortunately okay. Took some time there to think about Lincoln and his great personal grief at the loss of his son Willy, that led him to his moment of crystallization and the turn of the Civil War…almost an American prophet. That always chokes me up.
After Lincoln we were just about ready to finish up at the mall, went through the Korean War Memorial and truly the best time to see that is alone in the dark. We had it all to ourselves, it is so ghostly, spiritual and sacred. In 2022 they added a wall of remembrance for all those who were killed in the war. I had no idea there were so many lives lost. Paul and I both had relatives in the Korean War. It was sobering. I thought about Dexter, Jake, but especially Taylor and Jacob who served multiple deployments before they lost their lives and thought how every one of them deserved their name to be etched into a memorial that would last for generations like this. It was really such a moving experience. Paying the price of running for a cause to get there made it almost feel like a holy experience.
Well, at this point we were just rounding out at about 80 miles, we lost the trail back across the Arlington bridge but luckily Paul's brain was still working, and he found it for us, ha! We had roughly a 9 & ½ mile out and back down the Mount Vernon trail to do before the finish. I realized if we could maintain our 15 min mile pace there was a possibility we could do a 24 hr… as much as my heart wanted it, I just couldn’t my body to go any faster. ☹ Jason met us at a park before Reagan international and it was a relief to see him. I don’t even know what I needed from the car, just glad to have a porta potty and to grab my poles, I could feel my knee was getting sore and swollen but after running a few yards I realized they were just going to slow me down, so we waved down Jason as he was leaving and gave my poles back. Paul is such a trooper; his walk pace was faster than I could run, and I struggled to keep up with him but really, really appreciated that he was pushing me past my limits. I just wished I hadn't slowed him to his walk.
The views of the city from the river were beautiful.
My stomach started to feel off and way in the back of my mind I knew I was dehydrated but I couldn’t really bring myself to drink much…looking back I should have downed a couple solid bottles of electrolytes and taken several salt tablets, but I just couldn't coax myself to do it so just moved forward best I could with waves of nausea. Running by the airport is super loud but really cool with planes coming in right over your head! I was gonna apologize to Paul, but he loves planes so it kind of turned that section into a neat run. Heading south we toughed out the miles full of stoplights and uneven brick sidewalks through old town Alexandria and did a few miles in the dark to the swamp south of it before it was finally time to turn around. I really felt bad like I knew Paul could move much quicker than me, but I think the last 6 miles he finally started to struggle, so I think we were pretty well matched. He was suffering in silence like a champ while I couldn’t shut my whiny mouth, hah. It was such a relief to finally hit those single digits as we worked our way back north to the MCM. I was getting pretty nauseous and woozy, Jason stopped to help us at some point, so I ditched behind a short wall and finally threw up.
Felt better for a while but we were just in a pain-filled death March back north on the awful brick sidewalk. Some cops pulled over and said something to us… I was thinking oh man, we jaywalked or something and are gonna get a ticket, but Paul said he thought they were just encouraging us on. Thankfully! I was glad to finally see them drive off! We were doing a 16-17 min mile. About 5 miles left, my knee had finally had it, but my brace was creating bruises and blisters, so Jason drove by and grabbed it from me. From that, our last nit of help, we headed to the finish. We stayed steady and quietly suffered. It was so nice to have a companion, I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was safe out there alone on the outskirts of DC on my own. We just checked off the little landmarks at a time, trying not to think how long till we finished. I knew we weren’t gonna hit a sub 24 but I hoped for a sub 25. I was having to stop and pee like every half mile, it was ridiculous, and I finished emptying the contents of whatever was left in my stomach. Luckily it was dark, so I was getting the little pee stops done in under 20 seconds, haha. Airport, bridge, dark stretch, porta potty park, crosswalks, Arlington cemetery, then the finish. I just tried to stay present and focused on getting to each little spot, a mile at a time. Paul being the leader was checking the roads to make sure each crossing was safe, so I was just trusting him and following his feet. As we crossed our last crosswalks, which were marked and had flashing lights for pedestrians, Paul was probably 10 yards ahead of me. I glanced down the road briefly but didn’t see any cars so I continued to follow him across the road in a zombie state, just sleepwalking and zoned out. All of a sudden I felt Paul grab the sleeve of my coat and yank me so hard that I almost stumbled, out of the way of a speeding vehicle that came zipping around the curve of the road. I was so brain dead I hadn’t seen him flashing his light at the driver trying to get them to slow down. Literally I came with seconds of getting hit by that car. Jolted awake I was just really … shocked, unsettled… that I had come within inches of losing my life or at least having terrible injuries, at mile 99 of this Memorial run. My heart just swelled with thanks to Paul, and I was just so happy to have him with me and amazed I'd just had a near death experience. The car showed no signs of slowing till after they were pretty well past the crosswalk and Paul screamed at them. Talk about an adrenaline rush. Phew. I realized if we stayed solid the last mile, we could get a sub 24:30…honestly I never ever thought I'd see myself finishing an outdoor run in the 24-hour range. Right as we hit mile 99 Devil Dogs from Sabaton came on and man, I just felt like grinning from ear to ear and thought of my Marines as we pulled in that last mile, running past the endless sea of the white headstones that bought our freedom at Arlington, and up that hill to the USMC War Memorial. what an exclamation point to me for this run & final mile! (12) Sabaton - Devil Dogs (Music Video) - YouTube “Come on, you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?” Gunnery Sergeant Dan Daly, June 6, 1918, Belleau Wood, France. My watch was a bit more accurate than Paul's so we called the 100 officially at 24:26:08 as we reached the monument. Paul still had 1/3 of a mile to go to round his watch up to 100 so we did a victory loop around it, then collapsed at the foot of that beautiful statue immortalizing the brave Marines at Iwo Jima during WWII. Jason was there to meet us. No glory or cheering, just two cold exhausted crazy humans with hearts full of fire and of relief and happiness and our one man hero crew! He gave us our old buckles made into 100-mile finisher buckles. It was an experience I'll cherish forever. I had to just close my eyes and cry a few silent tears, and thank my son, my angel friends and Heavenly Father for such an amazing experience. I beat my PR by a full hour & Paul beat his PR by 10 min!
Jason booked up a hotel room pretty close by, so we hobbled into the car and got showered and slept for a few hours. I drank some water and was able to get in some salt and Tylenol and such….and then I got the munchies and woke up all through the night to eat handfuls of Cheetos and drink water. Haha. We woke up pretty early because Paul and I are nuts that way! Our internal training alarm clocks going off in the brain. Hot shower and PJs never felt better!
Ate a big breakfast at some waffle place… I gotta make me a meal of gravy and toast that Paul ate because it looked like something fit for a bada$$ ultrarunner! Steak and potatoes made me feel pretty happy, the very long climb up some old stairs to use the bathroom at the restaurant was not so great! The drive home felt pretty miserable, didn’t throw up but we had to stop and collect all the drop bags & was such a relief to finally get home, give Paul a big hug goodbye and go crash in bed and sleep for 17 hours! When I finally woke up, felt okay, though pretty sore. I got myself on the treadmill and walked for 8 miles to try and work out the muscle cramps and lactic acid buildup in my legs. After that I was able to get farmwork done and sat down to write. I was telling my family all about how Paul saved my life and Jason sent him a message about it because we were all pretty glad I hadn’t died. As hard as life can be, and as much as I want to see Dexter, I know I still have some things to do on this planet.
I chatted a bit with Paul through the day, about our amazing adventure…after I thanked him again for grabbing my coat and yanking me out of danger. It was then he told me... that he had not touched me, or my coat...that Dexter had been with us. I just really have no words to express my feelings about that, except if you read this far, then you get to be a third hand witness of a miracle. That grab on my arm, the yank to safety is in my brain with deep clarity, because I came so close to getting hit by that car. Paul was right there, but he hadn’t done it. If you don’t believe in angels, you should. To my dying day I will know for 100% certainty we were not alone out there.
I'm so grateful to have had this experience, instead of feeling loss today as we move into year six of living without our oldest son, I only feel gratitude and joy, for an absolutely amazing running companion, husband who gives up so much to support me in these miles, and friends and family who are always so encouraging and offer prayers for my safety. I mean, they are answered, 100%. Really.
To close I just wanna mention my other son who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder sometime after we lost Dexter. Because of all we learned and experienced, we’ve been able to find help for him and a few other siblings who have struggled with mental health and suicide ideation, and I like to think Dexter has helped to save their lives. This son bought the domain name for my clunky little website and created a video about his experience with mental health and losing his big brother. Its long and very personal…but if you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health, it is worth watching. I wanted to include it in this race report because he gave such a beautiful tribute to his big brother and a shout out to his mamma that just made my heart weep.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We ran this as a fundraiser for 22 too many and managed to raise over $900 which I think is incredibly generous after such a hard economic year. So many heartfelt thanks to everyone who donated.
For Sgt Jacob Gray SSgt Taylor Wilson, LCpl Jake Crewson, Nate Dogg, my unseen friends who will always be remembered.
For PFC James Dexter Morris, my sweet, funny, independent, freedom loving warrior son, I will honor your life forever.
Woah! That was really some kinda race report Rosie (nice little nickname there)! Your writing just gets better and better. As does your story telling, and your adventures. How can 100 miles on pavement be so captivating? You pour so much of yourself onto the page! The grief and the joy is palpable. And then go and throw in a miracle, and I mean, come on! Just incredible Rosie. And congrats to Paul for being the perfect companion. What a great effort and accomplishment. So happy it was also your personal best so far. Blessings to you, Jason, Paul, and your family and friends. Thank you for sharing so much of yourself in these 100-milers! Be well, Rosie ❤️🙏🏻😎