My niece Robin continues to beast it up. An ultrarunner for just a few years, she’s already completed the Pikes Peak 50 and the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim (that’s right, both ways in one day). And Courtney Dauwalter called her awesome (*).

Last week she returned to Michigan for her first 100K attempt, at the iconic Run Woodstock, where I attempted my first 100K exactly ten years ago. Sadly, it turned out to be my first DNF (did not finish). I got redemption the following year (top 10) but that’s another story.

2015: Ready to rock the rematch. (I finished in the dark, so this will have to do.)

Her decision to run it here, instead of Colorado where she lives, was a good one, IMO. While a 100K is only 12 miles longer than a 50-miler, it’s a way different animal. I had no doubts about her physical readiness, but the additional mental fatigue and the night running make it seem even longer, sapping decision-making and body self-awareness late in the race. Woodstock, with its terrific support and lower altitude, gave her a good shot at a strong finish. Plus I would get to pace her for a loop. I’d be working Zero Waste for the race anyway, and we could continue our streak of running a race together each fall.

And so I joined her at the Hog Farm aid station on Friday, Sept. 6, for the pre-race meeting. She was nervous but ready to go. The keys for her, as she knew, were not to start out too fast, and to stay on top of hydration and electrolytes. The course isn’t brutal but its rolling terrain can drain runners who doesn’t pace themselves appropriately. And off she went at 2:00 p.m. Her parents, my brother Doug and sister-in-law Julia, were also there to see her off and take some photos.

The 100K is four loops of the trail, and Robin had estimated three hours to complete each one. She finished loop one right on schedule and was looking good, so I headed to Hog Farm around 7:30 to meet her around 8:00 to run loop 3. My goals were for us to have fun, make sure she stayed hydrated, and to be good company.

That all changed when Robin arrived around 8:15. She was in trouble, sweating heavily and in obvious pain. Her gut was bothering her, with a burning feeling like a UTI. I’ve had the same thing in a few races, and while it’s not serious, it really sucks. She didn’t want to quit, so my mission now was just to get her through the loop. Like Charlie did with me at the Veterans Memorial 150, I would keep her moving forward while talking with her, encouraging her, and keeping an eye on her condition.

We’d just started off when she got another downer – a phone call from some friends she’d been planning to meet at Hog Farm. They’d left just minutes before she arrived! She told them it was okay, but she was clearly sad about it. Nothing to do but move ahead, into the dark woods.

“When you’re going through hell, keep going.” – Winston Churchill

The first few miles were walking mixed with slow running while she tried to find the most comfortable pace given her gut pain. My best guess of its cause was either not enough water or not enough blood flow to process what she took in. When I have it, there’s no single magic remedy. Sometimes drinking a lot fixes it, once it took a 15-minute nap, and at one race nothing helped and I just had to push through to the finish. She did up her fluid intake, and it helped a bit.

About four miles in, we crossed a dirt road. A few people were standing there, clapping. Then we heard, “Robin?” It was her friends! They’d come down the road at the exact time to see us. Needless to say, the run was paused for hugs and photos. This really lifted her spirits, and from then on we gradually picked up our pace, actually running most of the rest of the way. Her pain eased up, and her bladder function also improved. (I could elaborate, but I’m guessing most of my readers won’t truly appreciate it.)

So what did we talk about during the loop? You have one guess. That’s right, although we did discuss a few subjects other than running. I j­­ust don’t remember what they were. And her improving condition allowed me to settle in and enjoy the run. It had been too long since I’d heard, “Runner, what can I get you?” instead of, “Where do I put this trash?”

We got back to Hog Farm around 1 a.m. Her gut pain had not fully resolved, but she was revived enough to remove any doubt about going out for her final loop. She rested a few minutes, then off she went. Still wired, I sorted waste at the aid station awhile then caught a couple hours sleep before the Saturday morning shift.

Robin texted me around 5:30. “Just finished!” A few hours slower than her goal, but she’d done it! And on top of that, she was the second female finisher. Podium! As I’ve learned in my own ultrarunning career, if you just keep moving forward, amazing things can happen. The Courtney spirit had rubbed off on her.

Two generations of Woodstock 100K finishers! Julia and Doug on the left, Robin & me right.

The day she returned to Colorado, I joined her and Doug and Julia for dinner at the Detroit Street Filling Station before they headed to the airport. When she left the table for a few minutes, I asked her parents a question I’d been waiting for the right moment to ask: What did they think of her accomplishment?

They were both quiet, with blank faces. I’d been expecting this reaction, which is pretty common from non-runners trying to comprehend an ultra. Sort of like someone saying to me, “I just climbed Everest blindfolded. What do you think?” Still, I wanted to know.

“I was impressed,” my brother finally said.

===================================================

(*) – Actually when they met on a trail run, Robin said, “I’m starstruck!” and Courtney replied, “You’re doing great!” which is close enough to awesome for me.

Update one week later: Robin reports feeling good. She paced her friend at Run Rabbit and is looking forward to the Crested Butte 50-miler. In two weeks. Did I mention she’s a beast?