Girlie Pops

Let me tell you a story about these girls that befriended me and pursued me despite me secretly not wanting to be their friend (which they will NEVER let me live down), that I ended up loving in the deepest parts of my heart and soul.

Pretty girls *run* like this. -Melody

I decided to live in Hattiesburg, MS while pursuing grad school. I planned to stay one year. Not make friends because who wants to make friends with someone you’re going to leave soon? I planned to go to Jackson all the time. And I did. For the first while. Then, something changed. I joined PBP (Pine Belt Pacers). I interacted first with this extremely outgoing girl who was just so happy I was there and to meet me. I then met another girl who wore makeup and lashes to run. The antithesis of my being. I am questioning all my life decisions at this point.

Donut run! Run a 400, eat a donut- repeat 4x.

Group runs aren't normally my thing, but this was fun!

I started talking in the PBP GroupMe. It was fun. Makeup girl became known as Melody and outgoing girl became known as Jenn. We weren’t ‘girlie pops’ yet. One night, there was a post-run party that got LIT, and Jenn decided she wanted to celebrate me passing my Elementary Education Praxis. The week came, and I was secretly trying to put space between us and replace them. I texted them and said it’s not a big deal, but they were insistent. So, out we went. They got me cupcakes, flowers and balloons. (The balloons are still in my apartment.) However, I had already decided I didn’t want to be close to them, so I was trying to subtly leave. They *clearly* couldn’t take the hint.

Throwback to when Jenn and Melody loved me and I wanted to ditch them.

Thus began the 'girlie pops' group message.

Our first 'girlie pop' picture. When I was pretending I wanted to be friends. 😂

This is where it got complicated for me. I found out they were Christians. Went to church. Weren’t on the same page as me politically. And. I had just spent 3 years distancing myself from that lifestyle, and here I am becoming friends with the life I got out of. To finish this part of the story- I am still the same Ex-evangelical single childless girl, and they are the same Jesus-loving married with kiddos girlies, and we love each other through and through.

Even went to church to see Melody sing!

It started out as funsises messages. Memes/GIFS. Until one night we went out to celebrate Melody passing her broker exam. We went all in- learning REAL life. I learned the not so pretty parts. I learned the backstories to things, and how their struggles and faith shaped them to be the people they are. I learned that I am apparently ‘cool enough’ to have the privilege to be their friend.

The night we decided to go all in.

*Cue Meg enter a 6-week bipolar struggle*

I shared a little bit with them, unsure of how they’d respond, because I know their experience in *gestures to all of this* is limited. I honestly didn’t expect much because I know it’s scary to be a part of. Well, I received more than I could have ever asked for. They jumped in headfirst to support me. They messaged me, let me crash their houses, listened to me plead for relief, and helped me when I couldn’t help myself. They celebrated when I was feeling good, were heartbroken when I was, and held space for all my emotions. They took one for the team and helped me get my apartment, not a wreck. How lucky am I?

I don't really have words for this weekend. Just. Thankful.

They choose me, every day, and for that I am eternally grateful. I’ll relish and look forward to the future opportunities to support them and love them in the ways they have supported and loved me.

Road trip to the coast for a 5k then 110-stair climb!
Melody CLEARLY brought glitter- so we all had to do it!

I wouldn’t change a part of it. Only that I’d jumped into their friendship sooner. 💞 Melody and Jenn, I know I tell you all the time how grateful I am for y'all. But. I believe the world needs to know just how lucky we are to have you in our lives.

77 miles- How cool is my body.

How to even describe what happened in 77 miles? How to express the emotional release of crying for hours over how cool my body is? How to explain to all who helped me, gave me things, listened to me cry, ran with me, walked with me, and/or messaged me, that I couldn't have made it to 77 without each of you! 

IK am going to try to encapsulate what the experience was like. I started at 7am. Jen surprised me by showing up to see me start! What a happy welcome that was to my day! I ran from 7am-10am by myself. About 12 miles. Then Brittany joined me, and we did 7 miles. We gabbed and got POURED on. She is the real one for running in the pouring rain with me. Chafing started here more or less. I knew I was in for it. (Shelly, Gibson, and Candi- prepare to *ahem* take me in November because I didn't! #IYKYK

Mile 0!

Then, I ran by myself for a few more hours. Eat. Drink. Run. Walk. Repeat. Renee' joined me about 5pm and I convinced her to do 8 miles with me. We had a blast! She brought me coffee. That left me for only 2 hours by myself until Jen came. I was eating and drinking super well all day. The first few hours I was peeing so much I was a little concerned. 😂 Then the dark came. I talked to Candi until Jen came, which was a welcome surprise to keep me occupied. 

Did I mention she WALKED the pace I was RUNING? 
So hardcore.

Jen and I ran the Rez loop together. I hit my PR distance of 53 miles with her. That felt super good. Sabrina got stuck in 3-hour traffic, so Jen graciously hung out with me while we waited for her. Jen really helped me through the ‘early dark’ hours to be in good spirits and realize it’s ok that the dark miles are slow.

I was at mile 50-something at this point. My feet hurt. Ok. That’s an understatement. 50-something miles on pavement was killer. I could feel my heartbeat in my feet. I sat in the passenger seat with my feet on the dash, while I cried in pain and honestly questioned if I could keep going. Sabrina came and helped me get back up and get back out there. We ‘ran’ (walked) for a few hours together. They were slow, dark miles, but they got done. I can’t remember where I hit 56, but that felt super cool to hit because that is the half ironman bike distance. I know I got to 100km with Sabrina, and that felt super accomplishing.

We finished, and I got to FUU at 64 miles. I ran 1 mile before FUU started. Everyone at the race was so supportive of me. I couldn’t have made it to 77 without being at FUU. I cried more than I didn’t at FUU. Everyone was nothing short of amazing. Hitting 70 was an amazing feeling because that is the distance of a half ironman.

I think my favorite part of FUU was when I was sitting on the side of the road, crying, and JRay gave me a bandana of ice. Mind you, it was all on his neck/face, and then all over mine. I suddenly decided I NEEDED to eat a LOT of ice. So, naturally I opened the bandana, filled with sweat and who knows what else, and proceeded to eat all the ice. I needed more. There was a mailman right there. So I asked him if he had ice. He said yes, and kind of paused. I told him it was fine if the ice chest was dirty and to just put ice in my bandana. He said ‘with my hands?’ I said oh yes I don’t care. Thanks man! So I went back to where I was sitting and proceeded to eat all of that ice. In all I think I ate about 30 pieces of ice. I got up and kept walking.

At this point I am sobbing from the emotion of it all. Jimmy, Jennifer, and Karen asked me what I needed, and I said ice. Next thing I knew, Karen went to a random house and asked for ice. I continued to cry from thankfulness for them. Jimmy walked next to me for a little while and just pressed the ice on my neck/head. It felt so nice and comforting.

Once Brittany found out I ate icky ice, I was currently on a fixation of cuties. I ate so many. One part dropped on the ground, so she handed me that one first and said ‘this one has dirt on it so I’m giving it to you first, but the rest are ok!’ Thanks girl. 😜

Ok anyways, the first few hours of FUU were with Dustyn, and almost 3-year-old Cory. Cory roasted the heck out of me. We were walking, and Cory asked Dustyn if we were running. Dustyn, being the encouraging person he is, told Cory we were indeed running. Suddenly, a group of guys ran past us. Cory proceeded to tell us that THEY were running, and we were walking. 😂 Thanks Cory. You're the real one. I started to throw up at this point, so Dustyn went and got me my Zofran. (He also grabbed my Ativan. Tell me you're a psychiatrist without telling me.) Those were my most productive loops at FUU.

Dustyn left, and I did a little by myself and was sobbing. Brittany came and found me and drug my 40 min/mi ass back to the S/F. My chafing hurt at a new level. I couldn’t stand up straight. I relied so hard on my poles to keep me vertical. After 5 miles of that, I knew 100 wasn’t in my cards for the day, and called it at 77. I think I said ‘my body is so cool!’ no less than 500 times.

I am in awe that my body ran from Hattiesburg to Florence. It ran from Hattiesburg to Biloxi.

When asked my favorite part, I have many, but honestly the time with B was probably the best, because I was fighting so hard for every mile, that I earned the recognition for completing 77 miles. The first 14 hours were great. Didn’t really hurt that bad, considering. Ran, walked, ate, drank, peed, had friends join, but it didn’t really feel HARD. The hard came once I got past 40 something and my feet started to rebel. The hard continued when I closed my eyes while walking with Sabrina. The hard persisted when every ion of my being wanted to stop at 75, but nevertheless I persisted to get 77.

The question I am asked is how do I feel about my race now that it’s all said and done? I am 100% confident I could have made it to 78. However, it would’ve taken about 45 minutes more of immense suffering. Weighing pros and cons, 77 and 78 made no difference to me, thus 77 being my max. I am confident 80 was out of reach for me. I am confident 100 will be mine one day, but not that day. But I haven’t had a distance PR in 10 years and boy did that feel awesome to see not only 53, but a marathon more distance PR!

My wish was to order my own drink afterwards. I drank 1/6 and called it done. 😂

I am continually reminded that ultras are such a group sport. I am confident I would've stopped in the dark without Jen and Sabrina there to hold me accountable. I am confident I would have forgotten to eat and drink by the time I got to FUU without so many people on the course handing me things. I am confident that my success is not just mine; it's the combined effort of so many people rooting for me.

The amount of fear I had of disappointing people and fearing to be told I didn’t go far enough was immense. Now that I am in a normal brain, I understand that is illogical. However, I cried for a while over that. Jimmy helped me because he DNFed at 88 his first 100 attempt, so I asked him how he dealt with it, and it helped me be at peace with myself.

If I'd have kept this pace, I would've made it!

I am super proud of how great I did with food. The first 14 hours I KILLED it. I was so on top of myself. The next 10 hours weren’t bad but could’ve been better. The last 6 hours were just a death march of which I survived on cuties, tailwind, and a few gels because my friends voluntold me to all of the above. S/O recovery for shoving food down my mouth even when I was so tired of it.

Throwback to Viper because these are some of the people who will be
a part of my 100-dream coming true.

So, until November. We go for shot #3. Third time’s a charm? I know the best bully ever (Candi), ‘Tiffany’, Shelly, Alyssa, James, Gibson, and so many other people on the course will be there to remind me how much of a badass I am and help me get that coveted 100-mile buckle.

Mamba to Moccasin and all the rambles leading up to it

  Talking about my experience going for 100 miles, DNFing it, then going back to the same trail to get 52 miles is kinda a big task. I have lots of new friends that don’t know the back story, so time for a catch up of the last 10 years of my life that has led to this.

Day I entered Fairhaven.

10 years ago, about this time, I did my first 50k with some friends (in the middle of the night). That was when I was bitten by the ultra bug. I knew that one day I’d train for 100 miles, as I watched my friends do so. I quickly completed 50 miles, and knew I was meant for the endurance sports realm. I had already done a half Ironman, and was signed up for a full Ironman. I trained for and completed an Ironman, and was on top of the world. My world quickly crumbled around me, as I was told/realized I had anorexia in 2013 that morphed into exercise bulimia. My world further crumbled as I got serotonin syndrome, which eventually got me diagnosed with bipolar 2 disorder while going to treatment (for the first time).

So, off I go, years of various stays of inpatient, residential, partial-hospitalization, intensive outpatient programs, and obviously the in-betweens filled with weekly therapy and dietician appointments, striving with all my might to get to a place in recovery to do what my heart yearned for; endurance sports.

Summitting a 20,000ft volcano, Chachani.

As an adrenaline junkie, that trait off-shot into the also long-awaited desire to live abroad. I achieved that goal; living in Peru for 4.5 years. That was pinnacle number 1 of my recovery. But, my Peruvian endeavors and successes aren't the point of this. So, I digress.

At the beginning of 2024, my first full year in the USA since 2018, I knew I had a lot ahead of me, and I wanted to make the most of it. I applied for and started grad school, have had a 4.0, helped start the MS Triathlon Club, and decided to finally go for it- to train for 100 miles. With my ED dietician walking beside me, my main therapist helping me be the best me, my newfound sports psychologist helping me get ready mentally, my coach giving me a solid plan and advice (S/O Salynda!!), and my psychiatrist keeping me in check, I was (and am) the best Meg I could possibly be.

MS Triathlon Club friends!!

I tried for 100 miles at Mamba. I DNFed about half way. I learned a lot about myself, how I prefer to race, don't regret where I quit, while also knowing I couldn’t end 2024 on a DNF. (Oh, I also got Rhabdo after Mamba. It was a thing. The Dr. told me I'd have an inflamed gallbladder. Spoiler: I don't even have a gallbladder.)

Chillin' in the ER.

Anyways, I needed to go back; to prove I could do those trails and win. So, I signed up for Moccasin 24 hour endurance race. I didn’t tell many people. Low stakes were ahead because it was run as many 4 mile loops as you want in 24 hours. However, you got a coveted ultra buckle if you did at least 52 miles; my eyes were on earning my first buckle from mile 1.

I met awesome people who helped me get to the finish line and wouldn’t have gotten there without them. (Candi- you are the best bully that ever existed. ILYSM. ‘Tiffany’- thank you for accompanying the bullying. Alyssa/Candi- thanks for the help from hour 0. Poor James’ eyes were almost assaulted. IYKYK. Rudy- I am so proud of you and thankful we were in it together. Karen/Kim- I am glad we got to run together and encourage each other all night! James- thank you for supporting me from day 1 and giving me my first buckle!! Sarah- thanks for letting me stay with you and taking me around town and caring for me after. Finally, everyone who cheered/crewed/encouraged on course/messaged- thank you from the bottom of my heart.) I told Rudy (whose previous distance PR was 13. He did 32!!) that ultra running is an individual group sport. Meaning, while I am the one that did the 52 miles, it wouldn’t have been possible without my tribe. I am the luckiest girl in the world to have friends that believe in my crazy dreams and help me achieve them.

I love this pic from Mamba.

Shelly, my new ultra friend who is the best!!

TW: weight numbers (estimates)

Something that I have gone back and forth about addressing is body sizes. I have run 50 miles being 130 pounds and 200 pounds. I have run through all my body changes in recovery and trained hard for triathlons, ultras, and everything in-between. Part of me wants to say ‘I ran 52 miles, period.’ No mention of weight. However, after having done it at both sizes, lemme tell ya. It is more difficult in a larger body. (The comparison I use is ‘white privilege’. I am not saying white people don’t have struggles and life isn’t hard. However, our lives aren’t made more difficult simply because of our skin color. In the same way, 52 miles is hard at 100 pounds or 200 pounds. However, when there is less of you, there is an advantage.) When I show up to ultras to race, there is no judgement and only encouragement from even the most elite people on the course. The judgement is from one person: me. (Side note: marathons aren’t the same. Many of them b!tches are judgemental AF.) I still am unsure if I can do 100 miles in this body. Will I go for it again in 2025? Nope. I don’t want to miss the 100k milestone. That is my big, scary goal for 2025- 100k at Mamba in November. I want all my buckles to come from James and the Mamba Trail Runners!

Cheesin' because I just got my first buckle!

Truly would NOT have made it without these lades.

Something else I realized is the depth of highs and lows that happen in 24 hours is unreal. I realized I have no desire or need to share about each lap. I don't desire to divulge all the things that happened out there. When I do a marathon, I can’t wait to share all about it. But after Mamba 100 DNF and Moccasin 24 hour endurance challenge, it was such an intimate experience out there; it is something I will keep close to my heart. So, here is what I have to offer about Moccasin: it was fun, until it wasn’t. It was empowering, until I was falling apart. It was accomplishing, until I was a dead man walking the last few laps. It was the most tired I have been in awhile, until I was running across the finish line. I wasn’t that emotional, until I was sobbing the last 12 miles. It didn’t seem possible, until I did it. I told myself how stupid we all are to willingly choose this and that I protest doing it again, until I finished and am hype for the next ultra.

There are no amount of pictures to show the depth of the mud.

That is 22 hour old mud on top of 30 minute old mud.

So, there ya go. This isn’t as much a race report, as it is a personal reflection and memento for when I go for 100k in November, to remember that the work wasn’t just 2024/2025, but has been in the works since October 17, 2016 (my recovery birthday).

The amount of serotonin happenin' here is unreal.