race report

Kettle Moraine 100

Saturday, June 14, 2025

La Grange, WI

Race Stats

100 Miles

137 Finishers, 50 DNF’s

Winning Time: 14:15:22

Average Finish Time: 25:53:56

Finding Flow

Feeling so unconfident about my training, I knew any success would need to come from mental skills, not physical ability. I needed to run a smart race, and when things got challenging, I needed to tap into my drive and fortitude to keep moving forward. As the race began, I made a concerted effort to move slowly and pace myself in the first half of the race, reserving my energy for when I would need it later on. I quickly fell in line with Kyle. If you've read my race reports from the last several years, you know Kyle. I've probably run with him two or three races a year since we first met back in 2022. As we passed through the first checkpoint, I was in 104th place.

We fell into conversation, just letting those early miles pass by. Kyle and I discussed bears, black, brown, panda, and polar. We talked with a pair of friends, one from the UK and the other from Bermuda (I would go on to chat with them again over breakfast the Monday following the race. Fellas, if you somehow find yourself reading this, it was great to meet you, and I hope you had a great time in Chicago! However, if you genuinely wanted to have a good time and enjoy some drinks, you should have stayed in Wisconsin. Maybe next time! Get in touch, and I'll show you the good spots.) We also spent some time discussing the peculiarities of Wisconsin with a runner from North Carolina, from the natural wonder that is the Driftless Region to the unique organization that makes up the University of Wisconsin system. It's interesting where the conversations can go during races like this when you've already spent hours covering the basics of "where are you from?", "what do you do?", etc.

As we closed in on 20 miles, I was feeling surprisingly fresh. I had fallen into a groove. My pace was easy, and my mind was preoccupied. The weather was even cooperating. When I ran the 100k at this race in 2021, the heat index reached 105°F. By comparison, it was a balmy 75ºF. But it was still humid, the sun was starting to come out, and I knew one of the most challenging stretches of the race was just ahead of me.

Prairie Sections

The McMiller Aid Station at mile 20 is the first aid station where crew is allowed. I found Emma and quickly stocked up for my next leg. At the aid station, I asked for ice, knowing what was in store for me. Still being relatively cool and early in the day, this request surprised the volunteer, but she helpfully led me to the cooler and filled my hat up. Kyle took a bit of extra time at this aid station, so I struck out on this next leg running alone. The prairie sections at Kettle are notorious. They're roughly 10 miles of humid, exposed, rolling terrain. They catch runners unprepared and ruin races.

I did my best to maintain a consistent pace and made sure to refill on ice at every opportunity while navigating through the prairie. Monitoring rate of perceived effort (RPE) and temperature control are absolutely vital to making it out of the prairie sections in good shape. I arrived at the best aid station in the race, marking the end of the prairie and having traversed it with minimal damage. As I made it into the clearing, I was greeted at the Highway ZZ Aid Station run by my friends at Bigger Than The Trail. (When I'm not running Kettle, this is where you will find me volunteering, typically manning the grill or taking care of the carnage that are runners exiting the prairie.)

Tommy, a friend and founder of Bigger Than The Trail, greeted me and asked what I needed after jokingly giving me a hard time for "ruining" my Bigger Than The Trail singlet by turning it into my signature crop top. "Right now, just my wife," I replied. "I don't think she's here yet," Tommy told me. A little confused, I started looking around. We finally spotted Emma and laughed as we realized she was lost in her book, temporarily oblivious to the world around her. (The book was Blue Sisters. "It's very emotional and kind of heavy, but it was good." She gave it 4 Stars on Goodreads.) With Emma's help, I quickly got restocked and entered the lollipop turnaround.

This is where I started the process I call hunting. I slowly started picking off and passing the runners ahead of me. I hate getting passed during a race, but I love the feeling of passing others. In a sport where mental advantages have such a huge impact, any small win, like passing another runner, can be a considerable morale boost. In the 5 miles around the loop and back to the Highway ZZ Aid Station, I had moved into 50th place.

I took a moment to rehydrate and refuel while mentally preparing to enter the prairie again as the day continued to get hotter. Luckily, before long, I found myself running with Emma N., a friend who lives in the same city I do now. Navigating the prairie with her and Paul, another runner she knew, helped to take my focus off the conditions. We finally came out of the prairie section at the Highway 67 Aid Station.

There, I grabbed a piece of watermelon and dipped it in salt. I saw a tortilla rolled up with turkey and cheese and grabbed one of those as well. For some reason, a bottle of hot sauce was sitting right next to the roll-ups. That seemed like a good idea. I squirted it on my roll-up, saying, "Well, we'll see how this goes," as the aid station volunteer laughed nervously, clearly thinking I was making a terrible mistake. As I left, I heard Emma N. joke to the volunteer, "Don't worry, when he's puking it up in the next mile, we'll pick him up and drag him along." I am happy to report that she was wrong; the hot sauce, which actually had some kick to it, caused no issues. In fact, the only regret, I should have put it on the salted watermelon, not the roll-up.

Lonely Miles

The next miles were largely uneventful, with the exception of having to navigate an electrolyte imbalance. I could tell that I had been taking in too much salt and slowly worked my way back to normal. I was able to identify the problem and correct it before it actually caused issues, so overall, it was a pretty minor challenge.

As I made my way back to the start-finish line to wrap up the 100k leg of the race, I found myself running alone. This was just the beginning, as I would spend almost the entire remainder of the race running alone. Mentally, I was still doing well. Quitting had not entered my mind once, but I knew being undertrained was catching up to me. Physically, I felt okay, but okay was much worse for the distance I'd covered than I had in other races. But I was still moving forward. As I closed out the 100k, I had moved up into 29th place. With the 100k mark also being the start/finish line, I was afraid that if I dewlled too long, I would decide to quit. The car is right there. There's a dry change of clothes. The chair is comfy. The temptation is strong. This is a trap that many runners fall into at this race. I quickly switched into my overnight pack, grabbed my trekking poles, and set out for the next leg of the race.

Typically, I don't even bring my trekking poles to races. Some races forbid the use of trekking poles, so I prefer not to use them, even at the races that allow them. I don't have anything against them; I just don't want to develop a reliance on a tool that I don't always have at my disposal. Even if I used them, there's a serious possibility that one or both could break. I don't want that to ever derail me. I need the confidence that I can finish races without them. However, given the situation, I felt that I would jeopardize my chances of finishing if I didn't use them. So with me, they went.

Night

I ran off as the sun began to set with my spirits still high. I knew I was making great time and could literally walk the remainder of the race and still finish under the cutoff. And that thought crossed my mind, but I kept running. The next section was a relatively rolling grass trail that I navigated easily. By mile 71, I had moved up to 24th place. And that's when my race started getting tough. There's a technical section that lasts from roughly mile 75 to 87. It's full of rocks, roots, and other things that snag your feet and trip you up. This section would be difficult to run during the day in full light, but in the middle of the night, under only a headlamp, it was nearly impossible for me.

This is where my lack of training became apparent. Cardiovascularly, I was still feeling good. However, I didn't have the leg strength to lift my feet high enough to clear the obstacles on the ground. I tripped over everything. My trekking poles are what saved me. I was able to stab my trekking poles into the ground and catch myself from actually falling every time. Twice, though, I jarred myself so hard as I caught my fall that my headlamp came off. I finally made the decision to stop running and hike the remainder of the section, but I still tripped constantly. The only highlight of this section was the aid station where I decided to wrap a pancake around a breakfast sausage and smother it in maple syrup.

Eventually, I got back out of the technical section and found myself on the home stretch. By this point, I still had the physical ability to run, but absolutely no desire. This was where mental strength completely took over. I forced myself to run and used little wins to keep me going. You ran to that tree, good job, now let's run to the next one. With only a few miles to go, I realized I was still on pace for a sub 23-hour finish, and that really kicked my ass into gear. It was doable, but it meant I couldn't relax until I reached the finish line.

My pace gradually quickened as I ticked off the remaining miles at what was essentially a sprint for me this late in the race. I clicked off mile 102 in 10 minutes and 29 seconds. (Officially, the course is 100.5 miles, but most runners agree it's a little over 102.) The last time I had run a mile in under 11 minutes was at mile 48, which seemed to be a lifetime ago. Crossing the finish line in 22 hours, 39 minutes, and 14 seconds, I set a new 100-mile PR by over an hour. I also finished the race in 26th place. While there was some jockeying for position between me and two other runners at the end, losing only two positions throughout the entire race further cemented the fact that I had run a smart race, relying on my mental abilities when my physical ones were lacking. A deep sense of accomplishment overcame me, but the full extent of what I had done wouldn't dawn on me for several more hours yet.

I was greeted by Emma and many of the volunteers. After the excitement wore off, it does quickly after running for that long, Emma and I went back to the hotel. But we weren't gone for long. We cleaned up and got a few hours of sleep before returning to the race for golden hour, the last hour of the race when the final runners cross the finish line. Few things in life inspire me as much as watching the golden hour runners finish. These aren't the fastest runners, but they arguably have more grit and determination than anyone else in the race. To battle themselves and the course, to push themselves right up to the final minutes before the 30-hour cutoff, takes strength that I don't think many people, myself included, possess. Watching golden hour really gives you a sense of what makes this sport so special and lets you bear witness to the tenacity of the human spirit.

Post Race

As much as I want it to be, the moral of this story isn't "fail to prepare and PR." The truth is, without the help of my trekking poles over the last 35-ish miles, I wouldn't have set a PR. Hell, I don't know if I would've even finished. Here's the real takeaway, sometimes we're not in a position to tackle our hardest challenges alone. And that's okay. In those moments, we have to reach for the tools available to us.

I can't think of a better parallel for mental health. We often feel pressure to face our struggles alone. Sure, there are times we can go it solo, and doing so can build resilience. But sometimes, the strongest thing we can do is ask for help and lean on the tools that support us, friends, family, therapy, trekking poles. Using those tools doesn't make us weak. Often, those tools are actually what allow us to reach new levels of strength and success.

Proud to Partner With:

Bigger Than The Trail

Ornery Mule Racing

Shoes: Altra – Lone Peak 9

Gear: Inov-8 - packs, Injinji - socks

Wearables: Garmin - Forerunner 945, Oura Ring