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.