Prairie Spirit Trail — 50 Mile Race Report

When I started running in 2019, I didn’t know a person could physically run 50 miles all at once, let alone between sunrise and sunset.

Training for this race was odd, but it worked. I had a simple plan I found online, which I made some variations to. Training was derailed twice. Once for a week-long ice storm and again when I suffered from a months-long UTI. During training however, I PR’d my marathon time and completed my longest ever run — 31 miles.

By the time race weekend came, I felt much better. I had a solid taper week, with a spicy five miler in the middle at an 8:18 pace. Joshua, Corey, Hannah, and I left for Ottawa, KS on Friday afternoon. Joshua was my pacer. He would be with me the last 23 miles of the race. Corey was de facto crew captain. She had crewed Joshua in the Georgia Death Race and Ozark Trails 100. Hannah was there to crew her first race. She had the hardest job, because not only would she be supporting me on the day of, but had already supported my 450 miles of training by watching the kids during long runs, putting up with my complaining and jabbering about the race for months.

When we arrived at Celebration Hall, the start and finish location of the race, I definitely felt intimidated. Around me were other runners, in their race shirts marking hardened 40 mile trail races, 100 mile belt buckles, and Hokas that looked like they’d had their fair share of miles on them. I picked up my bib, took a look at the starting arch, confirmed my start time, and that was it. No extra pomp and circumstance. Just get the packet and go.

We got to Lawrence, had dinner at a nice ramen place, and came back to sit around the fire at our Airbnb — which I have to say for memory’s sake smelled EXACTLY like my friends Daniel and Andy Koucky’s old house from when we were kids. Joshua told me something as we sat around the fire that I carried with me the entire race. I’m paraphrasing, but here’s the abbreviated version: “Tomorrow is a day that you’ll remember for the rest of your life. It could change your perspective forever. You have the privilege of knowing that it’s coming. It’s not just a random Saturday. Take time to remember sights, smells, sounds.” We headed to bed early with alarms set for 4:45a. I tossed and turned and woke up several times, but managed about six hours.

The alarm didn’t have to go off. I was up at 4:30a and slipped downstairs. I turned on Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in my AirPods and went through my pre-long run morning ritual. Now, this will make most runners or people in general uncomfortable, but I had a Monster Zero energy drink, a Clif bar, a banana, a whole bunch of water, and a piece of Nicorette. My goal was to get food, caffeine, and nicotine in my system as fast as possible so I could hopefully go to the bathroom a couple times before the race started. We loaded up after a quick shower and headed to Ottawa. I was able to go to the bathroom, pee about six times, and get to the start line at 6:45a.

The 50 mile course started with a two mile out-and-back before heading out onto the Prairie Spirit Trail toward Garnett, KS. My course would have me to Garnett at roughly 27 miles and then 23 miles back to Ottawa for the finish. I clipped along the first four miles at what felt like an easy pace. Roughly 10:30 per mile. I tried to hold back, but it felt super easy. My heart rate was level, and the only issue I really had was that I needed to pee. Other runners had already started to get into the zone. I was surprised how many runners had headphones on. Remembering Joshua’s words, I started taking mental notes. It had rained overnight, so as I ran behind a lumberyard the smell of fresh-cut lumber waved over the course. Smells… check. I moved along, slipped behind a tree to go pee a couple times and around mile seven realized I was in a shitting myself danger zone. I steadied my nerves, talked to myself, kept focused on the first aid station coming up at mile 11.8. By the time I reached the first aid station, all discomfort had passed, and I cruised in feeling great.

Here’s something that surprised me. I’d prepared a box with all of the things I thought I would need: Clif bars, Luna bars, Gu, Nutter Butters, pickle juice, and a whole bunch more. As I came in, I saw my crew at the ready. Corey grabbed my handheld water bottle off my hand before I had even stopped running to refill it. She knows her stuff and didn’t need me to say anything. Corey had Joshua’s races under her belt and shows so much enthusiasm and support for the runners out there. Every time you see her it’s a breath of fresh air. Hannah grabbed trash from my vest and asked what I wanted next. Joshua told me how strong I was looking so far. I was in and out of the first aid station in what felt like 30 seconds. As I left, I felt like I was one of the seasoned ultra runners I’d watched documentaries about. Just getting food stuffed in their mouths, a slap on the ass, and heading out on the trail.

I carried on for the next leg. Feeling good, I kept steady at my 10:30 average pace. This bit was a short jaunt til the next aid station at 18.3. I felt like I did my best bit of running on this section. The urge to go to the bathroom had passed, my heart rate was locked, and I picked off a few runners who had started walking. I was feeling confident and excited. I was doing it… becoming an ultra runner. The course is a rail trail that goes along an old railway bed. The trees were left to grow up around it, but the trail itself is crushed limestone. On other sides of the trees are rolling farmland. In the tree line are little pools of water and the occasional trickling stream. Recalling again what Joshua had said, the ponds were filthy with croaking frogs. These sonsabitches were just singing out for this entire section. Sounds.. check.

I cruised into the next aid station, feeling great. Same as before, my crew was there to grab bottles, empty trash, stock my vest and send me on my way. Later, I tried to articulate this part into words to Hannah, but I often assume she has an annoyance with my running. This is never something she has shown or even felt, but I can’t help but feel guilty that I’m gone running when I could be doing something else with them. I felt guilty that this weekend trip was so focused on my running rather than enjoying each other somewhere else. But in the moments before, after, and at the aid stations, she showed genuine joy and excitement for me. She seemed impressed and happy to see me succeed, and that feeling stuck with me all day. I had to make it to the next aid station to see more of that.

The next leg was a long one, and the sun was really up in the sky. The course was very flat, elevating only 1,000 feet for the entire 50 miles. However, the run into the Garnett aid station at mile 27.3 included four miles on a gradual climb. I’m not sure if I’d just grown accustomed to the flat trail that I had been cruising along on, or if the miles were getting to me, but I could tell that the day was going to get harder. Nevertheless I still maintained my pace in the 10:30s-10:40s.

I noticed something new at this point of the race. I expected everyone to be fit. Not just be fit, but look fit. Just a bunch of Greek gods and goddesses out on the trail, while my 5’6” 175lb stocky frame was just an imposter. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Running isn’t about looking like David Goggins or one of the other athletes you see on magazine covers. There were people as skinny as a rail, people who were heavier than me, old folks, young folks. All out there. They didn’t have to show off that they were fit — they were proving it. Sights… check.

I cruised into Garnett, passing several other runners during the small climb coming into town. Joshua was dressed out to get running, Hannah wiped the sweat off of my face and reapplied sunscreen while Corey stuffed another bottle into my vest. I drank/ate a fruit cup, and just like the previous stops, I felt like I was out and back on the trail in record time.

Joshua and I chatted during the next leg. I told him about my day so far and he told me about his. It was nice to talk to someone. We were over the halfway point, cruising to 31, and about to embrace the unknown. I wouldn’t see the girls again til mile 36.3, and the race was starting to get heavy in my head and on my legs. It was at this point I started slowing down. I was so discouraged with myself. I had clipped along all day at a 10:30–10:45 pace, and for the first time, I dipped into the 11:00s. Mentally and physically I felt like I was putting out the same effort as before, but I couldn’t will any more speed. As we neared the next aid station, Joshua told me, “They put in what you put out. If you come in dejected, they’ll console you and tell you it’s all going to be okay. But if you come in there pumped up, they’re gonna be rowdy and tell you that you’re crushing it.” I gritted my teeth and came into the aid station clapping my bottles in my hands trying to look pumped up… I was not.

At the mile 36.3 aid station, Hannah pushed a pickle juice in my hand and reapplied sunscreen while Corey filled bottles. I jumped into a portajohn and the dried speckles of pee on the seat starting pulsing and swirling. I was definitely in it now. I actually laughed to myself when I saw the weird pee hallucination because… what a weird thing for your brain to do. Hallucination or no, I was slapped on the ass and got back on the trail, just like before.

As Joshua and I emerged from the next aid station, I knew this stretch would be the worst of the day. I felt bad. We were still passing people, but ever so slowly. I had crept to a meager 12:15 average pace. The monotony weighed on me, the idea that I had a half marathon to go, and Joshua’s incessant talking gnawed at my nerves. Joshua is the nicest person I know. Not like, just so prim and proper it’s annoying — nice. Take him home and introduce him to your family and he’ll become everyone’s favorite person — nice. However, during this stretch, a side of Joshua I hadn’t seen before emerged. “Hey Jimi, see that guy up there? He’s fading, let’s hunt him down.” “Hey Jimi, that girl’s breaking away from the pack, let’s get her.” The dude, who had only ran 10 or so miles was starting to pick off runners who were 37 miles into their day. He’d run by them smiling and offering a “you’re crushing it today. Keep it up!” while I plodded along behind him barely mustering a wave. I was embracing the suck. I’d close my eyes for 30 seconds at a time. I’d lower my head and shake my arms. Nothing was helping. Maybe only my annoyance with Joshua in that moment. In retrospect, that gave me something to focus on. I did like passing runners. I could focus my energy on him and when the time came that we got to single digits, I was only thinking about how funny it was that Joshua could be that guy on the course and such a different guy at home.

We got within a mile and Joshua reminded me about the aid station. They’ll give out what you put out. He asked what I wanted and all I could muster was simple yes, no, or silent answers. I had purposefully saved a hat switch for this aid station. My friends and I have an ongoing joke about our fake company called ShortJohns (another story for another day). ShortJohns is the “sponsor” of our running club. I didn’t want to cross the finish line without having the ShortJohns Running Club well represented. I had half a monster energy drink, Joshua had a PBR, the girls told us how good we looked, and just like that, we were out for the final stretch. I don’t know where Joshua got this but he shouts “WHAT DOES THE TRAIN SAY?” To which I had to shout, “CHOOO CHOOO!” Just that little bit of silliness made the next couple miles a little more tolerable.

Going through this last stretch I pointed out trees I peed behind, the croaking frogs, and just stayed focused on each final mile. Joshua would run ahead of me and fill up my water bottle at the unmanned stations and then catch back up. Five to go, four to go…. each section of the trail we inched along at a soul crushing 12:45–13:00 minute pace. Joshua reminded me of when I first started running in 2019. How my first mile I ever ran was a twelve minute mile, and I could only run one without walking. Now I was 48 miles into a 50 mile race with an 11:16 average pace. Since that first mile back in January of 2019, I’d ran a half marathon, a full marathon, logged over 1,200 training miles during a pandemic without races, and within a single day ran more “race miles” than I had ever raced before.

We finally reached the end of the trail before we headed into town. Joshua was so giddy. I was feeling beat the hell up, but as the miles on my watch read 49, I could feel the finish line. The release of the pain. The smile on my wife’s face. All these things were coming, I just had to keep moving. For some reason or another, my watch hit 50 before the finish line. That’s to be expected with additional walking at aid stations, peeing off trail, etc. I had .4 miles to go til the finishing arch. In front of me were a couple 50k runners, who were walking in the finish and Joshua looked at me and said, “Let’s get in front of these guys. You’ll get a better finish line photo.” Maybe it was vanity, maybe it was wanting to finish strong, or maybe it was just wanting to be free from this hell… I picked up the pace. From twelve minute miles to ten. Joshua was cheering. From ten to eight. Joshua was yelling “oh my god!” From eight to according to my watch, a 6:54 pace. My legs felt free. The pain was gone and my stride felt solid. I crossed the finish line. Hannah was there and I collapsed into her. Joshua, Corey, and the 20 or so people around the finish were cheering and it was over.

I don’t know if my life changed forever. But that wasn’t just another day. I felt the support of my friends. I experienced Hannah’s love in a new way. I became an ultra runner. I’ll do it again, but it will never compare to this day — March 27, 2021 for 9 hours and 28 minutes on the Prairie Spirit Trail.