Running 100 Miles In A Day

On the evening of August 6th, 2021, I was eating dinner with my wife Christa, and my daughter Callie, when Christa turned to me and said, “I know you didn’t want to tell too many people, but I let the local Fuquay Varina Mom’s group on Facebook know that you’ll be running 100 miles at Hilltop Park all day tomorrow. So just in case anyone lives over there and sees you, maybe they’ll give you a little extra support or something.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Thanks, babe.” I replied as I finished my plate, rose from the table, and began shuffling through my gear, making sure I had everything I was going to need for my big day. 

An hour or so had passed, and I finished packing my supplies. Finally, it was time to settle in and attempt to get a couple of hours of shuteye. But not before Christa walked into the room to give me another heads-up.

“So, um, I guess a couple of people in the group wanted to share my post in other groups, and now there’s like over 400 reactions on the original post, and people keep messaging me. The local news wants to do a story on you. Sorry! I didn’t realize this was going to happen!” she explained. 

It turns out that my wife had included some of our backstories and my main purpose for my running goal—to honor my son’s brief life by running 100 miles on our shared birthday and to create a new memory to look back on with pride and happiness.

“What did you do???” I questioned, but in reality, I was intrigued, and my excitement increased at the thought of maybe a few more eyeballs on my endeavor.

As I lay down to get some rest, my final thought was tomorrow should be interesting.

My alarm blared, startling me awake from my deep sleep, and I immediately jumped to my feet and started gathering my things. Christa had left a sweet note for me down in the kitchen that put a smile on my face and gave me a necessary boost from the sleepiness that was difficult to shake. So I brewed a fresh cup of coffee, made some toast, scarfed down a banana, and spent a little quality time in the bathroom. I remember looking in the mirror while washing my hands, thinking, what the hell are you about to do?

I arrived at Hilltop Needmore Park at 11:50 pm on August 6th, right on schedule, as I was planning to start at 12:00:01 am on August 7th (my 33rd birthday and what would have been Lennox’s 3rd). The goal was to run 100 miles within 24 hours, so I needed to finish by midnight on August 7th. My friends Tony and Edwin pulled up on time and were ready to help kick things off with me. My Uncle Butchie and Aunt Lisa also surprised me by stopping by to send us off, which was very thoughtful and unexpected.

The clock struck midnight, and Tony, Edwin, and I set off into the darkness. The journey began.

The first 3-4 hours were pretty uneventful, the three of us just chipping away at the miles, talking about various topics like books, running, and races we’ve either done or are looking forward to doing. We were sticking to our planned pace, and the calories were going down easily.

Around 4:00 am, both Tony and Edwin needed to take off, so they wished me well, and I continued on my way. As they were leaving, the flashes of lightning in the distance began increasing, and it seemed as though they might be getting closer. By 4:15, the lightning was crashing down around me as I ran through open fields in the darkness. I was terrified and ran as fast as I could towards my truck to gain some sense of security. “If I can just get to my truck, I’ll be safe!” Finally, I made it to my truck, out of breath with the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up. 

I sat in my truck from 4:30 until 5:10 am, waiting out the storm, wondering what the hell I was doing out there. I began to doubt if I would have enough time to get the job done with this delay. But as soon as the storm calmed down, I quickly gathered myself, put my headphones in, and pressed play. Turning Pro by Steven Pressfield was in my ears—it was time to do work.

I was cruising for the next two hours, entranced by Pressfield’s words, thinking deeply about my own creative endeavors, forgetting how many miles I had ahead of me. I was experiencing a high moment—I was in the zone. I made up for the lost minutes spent waiting in my truck, but I was pacing faster than I wanted to be this early in the day.

At 7:30 am, Christa and Callie stopped by with an egg and cheese sandwich, a big coffee, and some much-needed smiles. They walked a half loop with me, joining me for a mile, and then we made a plan for them to leave and come back around 4:00 pm or so. 

At 9:00 am, my friend, Pete, showed up, and we cranked out 5 miles together. We hadn’t seen each other in quite some time, so it was great to catch up and talk about work, life, and challenges. At this point, I was approaching 45 miles completed, and I was feeling great.

No more than 5 minutes had passed after Pete left when a woman walked up to me and asked if I was Wes. I replied that I was, and then she explained that both her husband and she had been waiting to meet me and were looking for me. She introduced herself as Misty and mentioned how her husband PJ and she saw Christa’s post about what I was doing and were blown away by it. She told me about their own loss and how difficult the grieving process has been. We shared a moment out there that impacted me deeply and reminded me of my purpose. For a moment, both of us felt a little more understood and a little less alone in our pain.

Misty and I returned to the parking lot after completing a loop together, and then she told me that she was going to head back down to her house and send PJ up to meet me and run with me. PJ arrived within a few minutes, and we took off. It was another deep conversation. We focused on what the losses have done to us people—how we have changed as a result, for better or worse. But, again, I was just happy to be talking with another stranger, sharing our struggles, and feeling connected. 

It was now 11:00 am, and I was running alone again, so I put on some music and tried to get into my groove. As I was passing by the parking lot, another woman waved to me and asked if I was the running dad she read about. I confirmed, and then she told me how she had read my story and just wanted to come up to support me and say hello. I graciously thanked her for taking time out of her day and let her know that it meant a lot to me. She called me an inspiration.

At this point, I was about 55 miles in, still on pace and still taking in calories. The day was warming up quite a bit, though, as the clouds cleared out and the sun was high up in the sky. 

I was making my way down one of the loops when I noticed a woman holding a big camera. She yelled out to me that she was Tricia with The CW22 News here in Raleigh. She informed me that she spoke with Christa and was out here to take some pictures and write an article about my story. Just as we were making our introductions, my friend Amber arrived as well, ready to knock out a few miles with me. So here Amber and I were, running together while Tricia took candid photos of us. It was certainly a strange experience, but we were having fun, and Tricia was extremely nice. 

Christa and Callie decided to come back a little earlier than expected, and they made it in time to meet Tricia, get ourselves a nice family photo for the article, and spend a few minutes with Amber. At the same time, I continued down another loop solo.

During this loop, I noticed things like people smiling and wishing me a happy birthday as they passed me on the greenway, people yelling different words of encouragement from their backyards as I passed their homes, and then a man stopped me as I was cruising by. He brought my attention to a sign his wife had made for me after hearing about my story. He told me how they had recently lost a grandchild after five days in the hospital and how devastating it had been for their family. He told me he was behind me 100% and supported what I was doing out there. I read the sign, I thanked him for sharing his story with me, and then I turned around, ran a few feet down the greenway, and broke down.

It took me a few minutes to get my shit together, but I collected myself and used the emotion as added fuel. I was overwhelmed by the attention and support, but I felt so aligned with my why.

As I approached the parking lot, I was stopped by a man from Spectrum News 1, and he insisted that he interview me for the 5:00 pm news. At this point, I was starting to feel the effects of all the hours of running, so my energy was waning. But I told him I had five minutes to talk, so he turned on his camera and asked me a few questions about what I was doing.

5:00 pm came, and my friend Phil showed up for a few miles and some heavy conversation. I was at a low point when he arrived, and I couldn’t seem to shake it. I was moving slowly and rambling on about how crazy the day had been so far. We took our miles easy, and I was just grateful to talk to someone at that moment.

It was now 6:00 pm, and I was alone again. I quickly scrambled to find some additional motivation to keep me on track and wound up digging out the original Joe Rogan podcast with David Goggins as a guest. Goggins has a way of reminding us that we’ve got just a little more left when we think we’re done. This was just the prescription I needed, as it helped me drown out the next hour of running. I needed to go on autopilot and get out of my head.

Shortly after 7:00 pm, my friend Darin arrived, and I could tell right away that he was ready to see me through to the finish. The question was: was I? Darin brought some food, drink, and fresh energy. He was prepared to move and was unwilling to let me waste time. He allowed me to negotiate specific requests, but whenever I started to get negative, he would quickly redirect my energy. His presence was crucial in these moments. 

We weren’t moving incredibly fast, but we were making forward progress and keeping as close to on track with the goal pace as we could. It’s worth mentioning that I had lost all the additional time that I had banked from earlier in the day at this point. So I was now dealing with the harsh reality that if I was going to get this thing done within 24 hours, we would be cutting it pretty close at this rate.

Tony, my friend who started the day with me, returned around 8:15 pm to join Darin and me for our final miles. It was at this point that I knew we were going to get it done. It wasn’t going to be pretty, and I certainly was not having a good time right then. But I was deep in the pain cave, feeling awful but moving forward, and I had just the right people in place to help me achieve my goal. I was doing it. We were doing it.

The next 3 hours were some of the most miserable minutes of my life, alternating between profusely sweating and shivering cold, nausea, exhaustion, and an unrelenting throbbing in my knees and feet. I was struggling to walk the inclines. I was complaining about trivial nonsense. I was close to coming undone. But I didn’t. We just kept moving forward.

Run for 2 minutes. Walk for 1. Run for 1 minute. Walk for 2. Run for however long I could. Walk for just a few seconds. 

Before I knew it, it was 11:00 pm, and we had just over 3 miles left. 

Christa and Callie were waiting at the parking lot at 11:30 pm, anticipating our finish, and at 11:50 pm, we emerged from the final loop. We walked over to them and asked if they wanted to take our last steps with us.

At 11:54 pm on August 7th, 2021, I crossed the finish line of my self-curated 100-mile run in 23 hours and 54 minutes—6 minutes to spare. 

As I sat there, realizing what I had just accomplished, I looked around at the people surrounding me at that moment. I saw my wife, my daughter, and two great friends. I thought about all the people I had met over the course of 24 hours and all the stories that were shared with me. I thought about all the love, support, and connection I had felt. All I could do was sit there and smile.

If you can give your pain a purpose, you can transcend the suffering.

I did it.