It’s Just 50 Miles

In the days leading up to my first-ever 50-mile ultramarathon, my friend and ultrarunning mentor Ryan Yoch told me I would need to come up with mantras, calming messages of encouragement I could repeat to myself during the most difficult moments of my race.

I took his advice seriously, but in the end, only two thoughts came to mind: “It’s just running,” and “Have a good time.”

As a highly competitive person who often gets caught up in results, I believed these simple statements would remind me of how truly blessed I was to be doing this activity I love, surrounded by the positive energy of this eclectic, one-of-a-kind community.

But by mile 43 of the 2024 Tunnel Hill Ultramarathon, it was no longer just running, and I was no longer having a good time. Extreme fatigue and stomach distress had conspired against me, and I was now alternating between running four-tenths of a mile and walking one-tenth; running four-tenths and walking one-tenth. It was during one of these walking breaks that I heard it, the angelic voice of a fellow runner cheering and imploring me not to quit as she passed.

How could someone sound so happy, joyous and free at a point in the race where I felt so utterly defeated?

I caught up with her after I resumed running, and she resumed shouting words of encouragement as I passed. Then, she caught up again during my next walking break, and she was still urging me to stay strong. This sequence played out repeatedly in the latter stages of my race. I didn’t hear her again after mile 48, but her words of encouragement and optimistic spirit helped me finish the Tunnel Hill 50-mile Ultra, the first blind runner to do so.

I began running consistently in the spring of 2019 when the St. Louis chapter of Achilles International was established. Achilles is an organization of volunteers who help runners with disabilities to train and participate in races all over the world. I have been totally blind since the age of five, so I run with a sighted guide. For most races, one guide is sufficient, but Tunnel Hill required a rotation of four: Ryan Yoch, Kevin Cox, Robert Garr and Alex Piolatto.

Prior to joining Achilles, I had competed for many years in wrestling and martial arts, sports that necessitated a fair amount of running for the purposes of conditioning and cutting weight. By 2019, however, I found myself running purely for the sake of running, and it rapidly became something of an obsession.

I followed the normal progression, starting with 5, 10 and 15K races before eventually tackling half and full marathons. As for ultras, I loved reading about people like David Goggins, Scott Jurek, Dean Karnazes and Karl Meltzer, but I expected my involvement in ultrarunning would likely never advance beyond my Audible account. The reason for this was twofold. First of all, I knew how hard the last six miles of a marathon could be. Running further than 26.2 miles didn’t seem possible. Secondly, it’s hard enough finding guides for the marathon distance. Who in their right mind would volunteer to suffer through an ultra with me? Well, that’s where Ryan Yoch comes in.

Ryan began volunteering with Achilles in the spring of 2023, but I didn’t get to meet him right away. An out-of-town work obligation kept me occupied from April into August of that year, which limited my participation with the group. When we did finally get a chance to run together and discuss things, it became immediately clear that we shared many of the same ideas about training, competing, and building mental and physical toughness through suffering.

Ryan is an accomplished ultrarunner, with dozens of successful races under his belt at distances ranging from 50K to 100 miles. He seemed legitimately impressed by my mental and physical endurance, and it wasn’t long before he had me believing that there might be a place for me in the sport of ultrarunning. He quickly identified Tunnel Hill as the perfect destination for my first 50-miler, its smooth, gentle terrain being ideal for a blind runner and his guide.

Speaking of guides, finding them proved much easier than I initially thought. My friends were enthusiastic about embarking upon this adventure with me. Robert and Kevin are friends I met through Achilles, and we’ve run many miles together over the years. Alex and I worked in the same building in downtown St. Louis. We struck up a friendship after Alex saw me running on a treadmill in the basement gym. Intrigued by our plan to take on Tunnel Hill, Alex became the final member of our crew.

Ryan ran 20 miles of Tunnel Hill with me, the first 10 and last 10. The middle 30 was divided evenly between Robert, Kevin and Alex. But everyone rejoined me for the last few miles, and we crossed the finish line together.

I completed the 2024 Tunnel Hill 50 with a time of 9:18:06. In my mind, I always imagined that crossing the finish line would be this triumphant, emotionally charged moment, but truthfully, all I wanted to do was sit down. Tunnel Hill will always hold a special place in my heart, and I am forever indebted to Ryan, Robert, Kevin and Alex for making my race possible.

I finally did get to that chair I so desperately wanted, and as I sat there, attempting to collect myself and struggle out of my sweat-drenched gear, two thoughts rose above the noise in my brain: “I have never experienced such excruciating discomfort in my life, and I can’t wait to do this again.”