Born to Be Barefoot Article by McDougall Download PDF here

Reading Christopher McDougall's recent article titled "Born to Be Barefoot" was a great pleasure.  His article succinctly confirms and validates for me the worthiness of the pursuit of personal understanding through self-experimentation and hints from the stories and traditions of our most ancient ancestors.

Christopher McDougall's book "Born to Run" has moved a lot of us to reexamine what it means to be human, what it means to locomote with two feet over the world.  He has reminded us that we are not broken by default and that some of our most basic primal capacities are awesome before the admixture of anything, that we embody some pretty impressive ancient technology worthy of remembering and rediscovering.

Testing the Original Vibram FiveFingers January 2006

Since 2004, I have been committed to rediscovering for myself the joy of running, the joy of primal movement, the joy of tuning into my own body's sophisticated and time-tested tools for survival and play.  That led me to the bare foot, but my investigation did not stop there.

I started becoming fascinated by the footwear of our ancient ancestors, footwear that has played a role in our species' ability to get to every nook and cranny of this planet on our own two feet.   I looked for modern versions of these most fundamental designs and in late 2005 hit pay dirt when I was among the first to recognize the original Vibram FiveFingers as the perfect shoe for human beings, the first modern shoe that achieved full expression of the most amazing footwear design ever...the foot itself. (see my blog article "Paradigm Shifting Trojan Horses - Vibram Five Fingers")

Tarahumara Huarache Sandals Made by Manuel Luna in 2006

One thing the footwear of our ancient hunter-gathering ancestors share is an elegance of design, a functional simplicity based on an underlying assumption that the foot is just fine as it is and at best requires protection from the extremes of hot, sharp and cold.  Sandals and moccasins have played a role in our success from the very beginning. Go hither and thither on this planet and do some investigating...you'll find fine examples of minimalist footwear everywhere.

It is no mistake that the Tarahumara Indians of Northern Mexico happen to be among the greatest long distance mountain runners on the planet.  They have remained true to a tradition of running and sandal making that goes back into our distant past.  Simple sandals have proven themselves through the natural selection of human experience and use. The simplest, most elegant solutions that work tend to rise to the top: sandals like the Tarahumara huarache and the traditional Japanese waraji and the San people of South Africa's giraffe-hide sandal.

Traditional Japanese Waraji Part of a long footwear tradition

Regaining an acquaintance with our own bodies is a first good step in getting a chance to taste what it means to be fully human.  Learning how to move well in your own bare feet directly connects you to an aspect of the human condition that is as old as time and older.  Every able bodied 21st century primate of the genus Homo can relive the magic and majesty of our species' bipedal mastery of movement in their own default equipment. It is a human birthright available to all, and when practiced well, brings health and happiness by virtue of being what our bodies and minds have evolved to crave.  We know it when we feel it and humans have been practicing this amazing art for some time now.

Sandals of the Bushmen Among our oldest ancestors

In the end, is barefoot and minimalism for everyone?  Is it the new cure all?  Will it make me faster, better, stronger?  It has yet to be determined, after all, we as a cohort of humans in modern urban societies are the among the first who have ever been so differently-abled as to literally need therapy and coaching to reconnect to our own bodies' basic primal abilities.  With insights from evolutionary biology and the cultures of our most ancient ancestors, we can pick up on a powerful riff of movement that when played through the instrument of our own bodies is instantaneously recognized by many as being the most perfect solution.

Using health and happiness as a motivator, you will find much to gain in reconnection to the earth and your body.  10 years ago, barefoot and minimalism was barely on the palette of footwear choices available to mainstream America. Now that it is actively being rediscovered, I feel like new-old aspects of movement culture can once again flourish. Running is not just about times, distances and speed.  Running is about human exuberance and joy, about allowing the human animal to express and come alive, about mastering functional movements by moving well in one's original hardware.  All you need is your own two feet and a patch of earth, the rest is up to you.

Walt Whitman

In my own personal investigation of running and living, I have gained much inspiration from the American Transcendentalists like Emerson, Thoreau and Whitman.  In particular, I have been amazed to rediscover a similarly inspired anarchistic philosopher named  J. William Lloyd who in 1890 wrote the first treatise on running as an exercise where he suggests that health and pleasure should be our primary motivation for movement, not competition.  I plan on sharing much more about him and his insights in the future.  For the time being, here is a great tidbit he wrote in a paper on coed running clubs and games in the 1890s:

"I would advise that each runner leave shoes and stockings at home, but of course this should be optional with the individual; next to bare feet are sandals, next to sandals moccasins, next to moccasins, soft, low shoes."

Deep insights into the human condition are timeless.  Gaining access to some profound insights may be a bare foot away.  Enjoy with gusto.

BFT

PS.  And of course you can always take it one step further and run with the animal that has hung out with us from time immemorial, the loyal, loving dog ;-).  I do.

With Hiko and Edgar in front of the BTR store in Seattle

Human beings have been making their own footwear for hundreds of thousands of years, and we felt that Buy Nothing Day (Nov. 25th) would be a great day to talk about footwear, minimalism, and how to make your own tire sandals.

Our hunter-gatherer ancestors embody the spirit of minimalism; they needed very little material goods or tools to survive. Everything they owned they had to carry with them on their nomadic journeying, so it made sense for them to have as little 'stuff' as possible. Instead they relied on knowledge, skill, and each other for survival. They learned how to use their immediate environment to make the things that they needed as they needed them. This skill and knowledge was passed along generation to generation constantly being refined and updated to the benefit of all.

In our culture today we are obviously very dependent on industrial consumerism, so it can be very rewarding and empowering to learn a little about the knowledge and skills needed to fulfill some of our needs and desires in a way that requires very little or no money. The history of running and footwear are two subjects we are very interested in and we feel there is a lot of value in the minimalist approach to them. I won't go into much about that here but if you haven't read the book Born To Run, we highly recommend it. ; )

Learning how to run with a form and style that allows your body not to be reliant on advanced technology to protect it from its own movement is a great way to free yourself of the 'need' for high-priced footwear. Learning to run barefoot is a great start.

But not all environments are conducive to being barefoot, and some protection for your foot can be useful. Looking at the traditions of hunter-gatherers around the world, most go/went barefoot in environments and conditions that were not too cold or rugged. As conditions get more rugged, hunter-gatherers make various types of footwear. Cultures around the world have made sandals for tens (probably hundreds) of thousands of years. With the advent of rubber, and in particular rubber tires, the tire sandal has also been a ubiquitous footwear staple of cultures all over the world. They can be very easy to make, very effective, and simple.

There are already a lot of good instructions on making tire sandals so instead of writing up complete new instructions here I will just go over the basics, share some links, and some tips and insights that we have gained from all the tire sandals that we have made ourselves.

Pictured above are the sandals that Manuel Luna made for Barefoot Ted as told in the book Born To Run.

Tire Sandal Basic Instructions:

1. Find suitable tires. Most modern tires have steel belted radials in them which are really hard to cut through, believe me. Some tires that might not have steel radials are trailer tires, 'spare' tires, motorcycle tires, or really old tires. The other option is to use the sidewall of a modern tire. Most tires don't have steel radials in the sidewall. You can easily get used tires for free from tire shops. Most are happy to give one to you because it costs them money to dispose of them. If you are going to use the sidewall of a tire, pick a large truck tire with the flattest sidewall you can find. Basically just look for a tire with a sidewall that is big enough for your foot to fit on. Junk and salvage yards would be a better place to look for the types of tires that might not have steel radials in the tread.

2. Use our DiY Instructions as a resource. All the steps are the same except for the method of cutting the rubber.

3.Cut a blank chunk of rubber out of the tire. Cutting tire rubber is a lot harder than cutting our rubber soling material. It can be done with a sharp knife or utility knife but it is much easier with some better tools. Get creative, what tools do you have? A reciprocating saw may be the easiest. A hand cross-cut saw will do it. Depending on the thickness of the tire you have some heavy duty snips or shears might do it.

1. Trace on you footprint: instructions

2. Cut out your sandals. A scroll saw is probably the easiest. A hammer and chisel works well for really thick rubber. Multiple passes with a utility knife will probably do it for thinner rubbers. The Tarahumara of Mexico just do it with a knife. Again get creative and use what you got.

3. Drill some holes. A drill or hole punch is best.

4. Find laces. Shoe laces, leather, cord, webbing, ribbon, etc. There are lots of options out there.

Those are the basics. Here are some other resources:

Tire-Sandals-a-guide-to-comfy-hand-crafted-footwear

Hollowtop tire sandals

diy tire sandals

Have fun!

A delicious new sale, new sandal preview, a chance to win a copy of Born To Run signed by Barefoot Ted and more in this months Full Moon Newsletter. Click here to see the full newsletter.

See some of the new sandal developments featured in the newsletter below: the Red Elasticized Laces and the Sand Sole Leadvilles with Dark Brown Suede.

Anne Thilges - runner, triathlete, and Luna wearer - wrote up a blog for us on her experience at the Ironman Thriathlon World Championships. Thanks Anne!

I am thrilled to be able to guest-blog for the Monkeys at Luna Sandals. Please return often, forward to friends, and leave nice comments so the good folk at Luna do not regret giving me the opportunity!

I get to tell about wearing Luna Sandals at the Ironman Triathlon World Championship race in Kona, Hawaii this month. That was such a fun experience! But first let me explain why my Lunas were the best footwear choice on the Queen K that day…..

Luna Sandals are the ideal footwear for Ironman racing – and for all triathlons. Kona is hot; that’s for sure! My feet kept cooler than any other competitor because my toes got to feel the ocean breeze and any water that fell upon my feet only served to cool me more. I saw runners out there with socks and shoes and it made me hot just looking at it! Why so bundled up in hot weather? If those same competitors were out, just walking around that day, they would have been wearing flip flops. Why not the same cool footwear on race day?

The reason other racers were wearing socks was to protect from blisters. My good friend, Nurse Rae Ann, did a foot check just after the race and gave me the “all clear”: No blisters, no blood. Feet felt good. Triathletes’ feet swell during the bike segment and those swollen feet rub on the insides of tight-fitting shoes. My feet got to spread out and relax after the bike, with no constricting shoe uppers. Also my feet got to dry out, being exposed to the fresh air. Triathletes’ feet are wet from minute one in the swim, don’t dry during the bike, constrained in bike shoes, and are prunes by the time the run comes along. Then with all the water being dumped upon us during the marathon, it is no wonder those poor Ironman feet get blistered. The runners I went by sounded like they were running on wet sponges because their cushioned shoes just held onto the water. My feet were able to dry quickly and I stayed comfortable. I fully expect to see many others running in Lunas at next year’s World Championship race!

Oh, and I must note that wandering around town after I finished my race, I still wore my Lunas because they still felt good. I noticed that no other racers were wearing their running shoes…. In fact, most had changed into flip flops – not so unlike my Lunas!

As for my Kona experience…. I love it that the World Championship is not just a one-day event. It is a full week of fun events and building excitement. Every day, more and more people dropped into town and the crowds got crazier. The highlights each day were swimming out to the Coffees of Hawaii catamaran for free coffee, meeting with my PacWest Athletics race team at the sea wall to people-watch, and participating in the underpants run. Yes, of course I ran in my Lunas. Oh, and it was at the coffee boat and the underpants run that I got to see two of my favorite men in triathlon, John and Bevan of IM Talk. They were very interested in seeing me run in my flip flops. Being from New Zealand, they gave me the nickname, Anne “Long Thong” Thilges. They knew I’d cringe at the idea of running in my thongs!

The Ironman World Championship race is such an impressive production! I have seen photos of the swim start and I can’t believe I was a part of that. Watching the arms and legs churning up the water looks scary in photos and it’s never all that much fun in the water, either. However the warm water and gentle swells made up for any bullying that was going on. I started just underneath the starting cannon and I think I regained my hearing by about the half-way mark. Whoah! That boom woke me up!

Cycling down the Queen K Highway is indescribable. At times, one can see for miles ahead: A never-ending string of cyclists, tucked as aero as possible for the rides of their lives. I kept my head down as much as possible but not so much that I could take in the landmarks: Waikoloa Village, where I stop for food during training rides, the turn at Kawaihae, where my friend Leslie was cheering (despite her contempt for the heat!) the bushes full of hibiscus, indicating that Hawi was not far way and along with it a respite from the blustery, swirling winds! I loved bombing back down the hill from Hawi and welcomed the sight of the Kona Airport, indicating that I would soon be running in my Luna’s.

Finally the run. This is my favorite section because I get to be close to the cheering crowds and drink all the Coke I want; and I like to drink a lot of Coke during an Ironman! I don’t touch that stuff on any other day but during Ironman it is yummy stuff. I love that the kids of Kona come out to help us at the aid stations and they are so enthusiastic - giving me cups of ice and telling me I am “hard core” (because I am running in slippers!) I don’t know why anyone would complain about the Energy Lab. It is beautiful running down toward the shimmering Pacific Ocean, and again more kids: The aid station way down there was being managed by a local middle school. What a great community!

I was almost disappointed to be finishing... But the sun was setting and I wanted to get in before dark (spurn the glow sticks!!) I spent the rest of the evening eating ice cream and cheering the most enduring of racers in to the finish. I love everything about Ironman racing!

Thank you Luna Monkeys – I love my Leadville Pacers!

I absolutely welcome your questions about wearing Luna Sandals during triathlon racing. I have completed over 25 Ironman races and they are the best of my footwear choices. Look for me in my Lunas on November 27 at Ironman Cozumel.

Do what you must; just make it great!

-Anne “Long Thong” Thilges aka Flip Flop Girl

Build Up

It was only one year ago that Barefoot Ted asked me to pace for him at the 2010 Leadville 100 Trail ultra. I couldn't have been more excited or honored. Just a year before that I was putting in my very first miles training for the Seattle Marathon wearing headphones playing Chris McDougall’s "Born to Run." Of course I agreed to pace for BFT and soon we were on a plane to Denver.

I ended up pacing a measly 13 miles from the Fish Hatchery, over Powerline, and into Mayqueen. This event was the most important training in my running career - important not because of the physical exertion it took to run over that massive hill, but important because I got to see that the athletes running 100 miles over brutal terrain were not superheros, but normal dudes. I'm a normal dude. I'd never ran an ultra but, I knew I could do this.

Over the next year Luna Sandals grew quickly, most of my free time was occupied by building the business. It really didn't leave much time for running, but this wasn't such a bad thing. Ted came up with the idea of testing the limits of the minimal training necessary to complete 100 miles. My lack of time turned into an experiment to begin to turn another one of Ted's wacky ideas into a solid philosophy, and my training schedule turned into running an ultra event every 6 weeks with just a couple ~10 mile runs in the weeks before. Leading up to this years Leadville I ran the Copper Canyon Ultramarathon, Born to Run 50k, and the Vashon Island 50k, often taking entire months off of running.

There's some debate at Luna whether miles run can be "junk miles," and after my experience I definitely believe in running the minimal amount necessary to get ready for an ultra. I'd like to take it one step further and say that there are not only junk miles but also "harmful miles," and on the flip-side, "golden miles."

Harmful miles are the ones that you don't want to be doing, the ones where you wish it were over. These miles will actually hurt your future performance, especially running in an event. Running with negative thoughts in your head is only going to make the negative thoughts come more easily next time. In an ultra, negativity will stop you faster than a brick wall. Golden miles on the other hand, are exactly the opposite. They're the kind of miles you spend running with your best friends, or alone on a trail feeling like you're flying through the forest, or where the rain won't stop coming down and the smile won't leave your face. These miles are worth millions. I strive to make all of my miles golden miles. Even though my training may average 5 miles per week, you'd be hard pressed to put in a better 5 miles than I do.

Of course, when it came time for Leadville I felt the terrifying reality that I had to put these ideas into action in the hardest, longest, and most difficult run I'd ever approached.

Leadville to Fish (Mile 0 - 23.5)

Before the shotgun blast signaling the beginning of the race, BFT and I hung at the back of the pack to chat with our amazing crew (Jules, Dennis, Sweeney, Shawn, Eric, and Eli). We started out slowly, and within the first few miles it was clear that Ted wasn't feeling great and was little demotivated. At this point we were probably in about 600th place.

Before MayQueen he signaled that I should go ahead. Feeling pumped from the thrill of just starting my first hundred I let my legs flow with the ground. I started to whiz by runner after runner, not pushing it but having fun. I rolled in and out of MayQueen quickly, this was the only aid station where my crew wouldn't be there to greet me, we figured they could benefit from the extra few hours of sleep and that a dropbag would easily suffice this early in the race. The sun was out by the time I left MayQueen, and as I headed towards the Fish Hatchery things really picked up. My three favorite things about an ultra are: chatting with amazing folks, passing people, and floating up and down hills. This section was full of all of those things. Running down the Powerline section was great. My LeadCats performed flawlessly; I could really let myself fly down the technical terrain. "Woah, sandals?!" was a common phrase heard whispered in the wind with each group of runners I passed. I couldn't have been happier.

Fish to Twin Lakes (Mile 23.5 - 39.5)

Seeing my crew at the Fish Hatchery instantly demolished any fatigue I was feeling at that point. They treated me like a king, one offering sports drinks, another handing me a tempeh-avocado burrito, a third filling my bottles and packing my belt pockets with new snacks. Salt and Vinegar chips had just made my morning.

Word on the trail was that Ted still wasn't feeling well and he was quite a ways back toward MayQueen. I had also heard from Maria Walton that Caballo was only about 10 minutes ahead of me. My new goal was to catch the elusive White Horse.

I was quickly off. One thing I always can count on finding at ultras are people even crazier than me. The next few miles were paved road and it was starting to really heat up. I slowed it down a bit and chatted with a couple of the crazies, hearing stories of self-supported Leadville attempts made on a whim and runners with recent near fatal injuries giving it their best. The miles were still going by quickly, and I rolled into Twin Lakes with a smile on my face, but still behind the Horse. BFT was waiting for me at the at the aid station (he had dropped out at mile 28), but he met me with a grin, saying "Beat ya here." Next I was greeted by my newly doubled-in-size crew with the offering of coconut water, an organic burrito, and the lickings of an empty salt and vinegar bag (so good).

Lakes to Winfield (Mile 39.5 - 50)

I was so happy to leave Twin Lakes knowing the next twenty miles, including the back-to-back 4000 foot climbs over the 12,700 foot pass, would either make or break me. I couldn't wait to see what I was really made of.

The lone spectator telling me that the river crossing was 15 minutes ahead didn't prepare me for the dozen ponds I would have to tromp through first to get there. The first pond I came to I slipped off my sandals and ran through barefoot. I threw my sandals back on and didn't trot for more than 30 seconds before I came to another pond. Figuring this was going to be a recurring feature of the course, I decided to run through with my sandals on. This felt a little weird the first few steps - the water between my foot and the sandal created quite of bit of drag, putting a lot of tension on my laces and making movement awkward. I quickly adjusted my step by pointing my toe as it left the water and pulling it straight up, lifting my leg high, and spearing my toes back into the water. This method allowed my to move almost as effortlessly as I did barefoot. I probably looked a little strange, like a cat forced to run through shallow water, but it got the job done.

More ponds. Finally I came to the river, crossed it without any problem and headed toward Hope Pass. Still no Caballo. I wondered if I was slowing down or if he was speeding up. Hiking Hope Pass the first time felt easy; I was still passing a lot of runners and having a good time. A short ways up the mountain the first place runner flew by me on his way back to Twin Lakes. He was over 15 brutal miles ahead of me. These guys are amazing. On the way up three more runners zoomed by, in fourth was a runner being supported by my buddy Nick Coury. A quick high five from Nick provided a nice little boost to my morale.

Approaching the Hopeless aid station I finally caught The Horse. He was solemn, but looking strong. At this point some people seemed a little distraught at the idea of turning around only to climb this brutal hill once more. The top of Hope Pass was invigorating. I took a moment to look at the amazing views from that altitude, and to think: I'm doing this, I feel good, all I have to do is trot down the mountain, run into Winfield and I'm halfway there.

Halfway! AND I felt good! Holy shit! I was really going to do this. There aren't words to describe that feeling; I can only recommend you go do it, then you'll know. The steep stretch down the mountain was certainly the most technically difficult section of the course. Having to dodge the increasing number of runners heading the opposite direction of the course didn't make things easier, but the miles flew by. The stretch of dirt road was the first section that felt a little grueling. In my head I foolishly thought making it over Hope Pass meant I was in Winfield. Thinking miles are going to go by like nothing makes them drag twice as long, but knew that I was doing fine on time, so again I geared down and took it easy into the aid station.

Winfield to Lakes (Mile 50 - 60.5)

My hip belt was starting to feel a bit like a burden, so I handed it off to Patrick Sweeney, the man who was going to take me back over Hope. Dark clouds were visible in the sky, but nothing serious. More coconut water, sandwich, and snacks. Ted had been saying all week: "Running a 100 is like aging: if you're not feeling good at fifty, you sure as hell ain't making it to a hundred." Barefoot Ted was right, of course. I checked my systems, feeling good? Yep. Let's do this!

Within the first mile, Sweeney started playing fart baseball (see Sweeney’s account of the race for gameplay details). Some rain started to fall and Sweeney pulled out my rain coat. I envisioned was the two of us climbing Hope Pass in hail and lighting, but before I could even finish that thought the rain subsided. Whew! dodged that bullet. It was actually a perfect little downpour to hold the dust down.

Sweeney, having paced back-to-backs at Badwater, is a pro pacer. Going up Hope Pass the second time I didn't need much talking up; my legs still felt strong so I just powered up that beast. Coming down Hope, Pat and I stopped for some photo-ops with the llamas who hauled the gear for the makeshift latrine I used. Toward the bottom I started to feel some fatigue. Walking sounded better and better with every step and I started to get a little cranky, but Sweeney had a different plan. He kept me up to pace with jokes, kindness, and farts. He did his job so well that my time out and back from Twin Lakes only differed by a few minutes. Thanks Sweeney!

Lakes to Fish (60.5 - 76.5)

My fatigue began to show in Twin Lakes. Here Eric Rich would picked up the title of pacer. This was Eric’s first attendance at an ultra. On a run through the Wasatch mountains the week before he told me he was worried about his ability to pace at Leadville, all while he was sprinting up scree so steep I could hardly keep my footing. I knew he'd be all right, and he was.

This section was easily the most boring to pace. The sun went down and I got tired. Casually hiking through the forest holding my food and being my light source was probably not the action Eric had anticipated. The stretch between Twin Lakes and Tree Line felt extra long. I started to feel terrible, my left ankle was getting sore, I was slightly nauseous, and my core temperature was dropping. I just wanted to go to sleep in a warm bed. I fantasized about getting to the aid station, calling it quits, and falling asleep.

Not far from Tree Line I realized that I had to do something about my physical state if I wanted to finish this thing. I asked Eric to run ahead and get the crew to heat up the car to help me recover a bit. A while later, Eric came running back with the good news that I wasn't too far away and my crew was ready to take care of me. Sweeney had rounded up a can of vegetable soup and a heat source. The car was sweltering, just what I needed. I sat and ate my can of soup and drank a mate for about 15 minutes. Each second that passed my body felt better and better. This was the best feeling of the night, I wasn't failing, I just needed to eat! I hadn't been eating enough; rookie mistake. But that's ok, I WAS a rookie. Eric and I took off, nearly sprinting out of Treeline, I felt SO much better. I only stopped for a pee break between there and the Hatchery.

Hatchery to MayQueen (Mile 76.5 - 86.5)

Jules (my big bro) picked up the pacing here. Next up, Powerline. I've often heard returning over Powerline was the most difficult part of the course, but having paced it last year, and running it before a few days prior with Caballo Blanco, I knew what I was in for. Jules and I kept a steady pace, and again I started to pass some people. Most would probably disagree, but there is something about going up hill that is so satisfying. This hill captures that perfectly.

Running down the other side my fatigue started to catch up with me; having run for nearly 24 hours I think I had a pretty good excuse. This time was different though, no negative thoughts were going through my head, I was just good ol' fashioned tired. Jules took the lead, my mind wandered. Watching Jules' footsteps in front of me as a guide I often came back to the mantra Ted has been chanting for the past year: "One foot in front of the other."

Getting close to Mayqueen my mind really started to get loopy. Eli captured one of my thoughts here on Twitter. Mayqueen was a welcome sight; there was certainly no quitting now. Only 13 more miles.

Feeling the night frost I sat in the warm medical tent for few a minutes to sip some ramen noodle soup. Again, the soup worked it's miracles. While in the medical tent there was a man who really made me appreciate my sandals. His blister riddled feet were burning red with hot spots. Trying to take off his socks caused him to burst into a screaming fit, cursing and shouting at his crew. And here I was wearing sandals, feet fine, no pain. Not that I never get blisters wearing sandals but I know that mine are a much different kind of blister, they have access to air and are caused less by repetitive motions. They rarely even fill with fluid and I've never had one I would describe as a "hot spot." I rarely notice them on the day or even week of the race.

MayQueen to Leadville (Mile 86.5 - 100)

I left MayQueen with a good friend of mine, Eli Duke. This was also Eli's first ultra event. Eli is full of energy which was a great way to start out this stretch. In the beginning, going around Turquoise Lake, we moved swiftly up and down the smooth, forested trails. The sun started to come up. It was a pretty powerful and invigorating realization that 24 hours ago I was watching the sun come up from the same spot - the first real acknowledgment that nothing could stop me now. I'm still in shock from actually completing this race so I'll say it again:

Holy shit!

I was really going to do this. Knowing it was almost over and there was no amount of effort that could get me that sub-25 hour buckle, I started to slow down. The last 6 miles I spent walking along with Eli. I was certainly tired, a little loopy, and looking for that finish line. The dirt road seemed to go on forever. I eventually made my way to the final stretch, the rest of my crew was there to greet me with some snarky jokes and good words. I could see the finish line. I started running when I could hear the crowd cheer. Busting through that finish line was one of the best feelings of my life.

I ran 100 miles in 27 hours and 10 minutes, my only footwear: Luna Sandals

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