There isn't a ton to say. Signing up for a race like this is scary, and the buildup is a real rollercoaster ride, but I made it to the starting line. I thought I had a fuel/hydration plan that would work--Clif shots, S-Caps, and water. It did work for about 18 miles. Then the heat came. My stomach, or more specifically my bowels, took a turn for the worse and backed up. I couldn't stay on top of my hydration. By mile 35, I had dropped from 170 pounds to 153. The EMT, or at least that's what she was supposed to be according to the highlighter tat on her shoulder, told me it wasn't a problem because I didn't gain weight. So I kept going. Things really started to fall apart between 35 and 42. I was barely holding on at 42. It felt so good to sit down for a while and dring some broth. The precursors to passing out happened a few more times before the aid station at 51. I had to sit down and gather myself a few times to get up the biggest climb on the course. By this time, it was getting dark, and thankfully my wife, who was "pacing" me to the next aid station, had my headlamp. Just before we reached station 6, someone yelled at us. He was without a light on the north rim of Gooseberry. So we went back to him and helped him in. When we made the aid station, I was cashed. Overall, my first attempt at a 100 was pretty surreal. I didn't ever really think about miles until I realized that I was overheating at halfway. I met some cool people--Eric, Cory, and Hector--and had some great conversation. Some learning happened. I don't know if there is another adventure like this in my future--it's too close to think about right now--but the take-away is much more positive than negative. Congrats to Matt for putting on a great inaugural event.
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