by Kelly Ammon
I ran my first “real” trail run at Monocacy Hill on a Wednesday Night Run with the Pacers (probably 2019?). I ran my first ultra at the Pacer race we all know and love, Blues Cruise 50k, in 2021. And I DNF’d my first race ever at Eastern States 100 in 2025.
ES100 was on my radar since I first got into trail and ultra running. It’s a bucket list race for a lot of trail runners, and it’s relatively local, so a lot of my badass friends have run it or attempted to run it. I knew I didn’t want to jump straight into a 100M, so I spent some time running shorter ultras (ha) before I pulled the trigger and signed up in 2024. Then lovely Hurricane Debby spoiled our plans. Ok, so I guess I’ll run ES in 2025.
Leading up to the race, my training went really well. I won’t say I felt confident, but I felt as ready as I could to run a hundred miles in the woods on a technical course with 20,000 ft of elevation. Even the week leading up to the race and the night before, I didn’t really feel anxious, but excited and ready to go.
On race day, everything was completely fine. Not great, not good, not bad, not terrible. But fine. The weather was warm and humid, but not out of the ordinary for PA in the beginning of August. I got some hot spots/blisters pretty early on, but nothing devastating. My nutrition and hydration plans were working out, and I got through the first 43 miles without any major problems.
Steve Vida jumped in to pace me at mile 43, and by mile 45 the wheels were coming off. (I cannot stress enough that Steve is a wonderful pacer, and my downward spiral had nothing to do with him. He is truly great and all would be lucky to have him.)
I found myself in a funk I could not pull out of. I cried for…..7 miles. Steve said it was only 2, but I know he was only saying that to be nice. Physically, I was fine. My legs were tired but no more than at other races. I wasn’t having stomach issues either. The biggest problem was my brain and convincing myself to keep going.
My reason for running has always been because it’s fun. Yes, there are plenty of times I don’t want to keep going, but that feeling goes away by the next mile. Or rather, the end goal is worth the suffering, and that’s part of the fun. What do you do when your main reason for running goes out the window and no one is forcing you to go on but yourself? (And maybe also Steve when he won’t let you drop 8 miles earlier.) In the woods at ES, I looked at my watch and said, “I have to keep doing this for FIFTEEN to TWENTY more HOURS?!” and that’s where despair set in. So I quit.
I’ve thought a lot about the race over the past three weeks. Do I regret dropping at mile 58? No. Would I have done a lot differently both leading up to and during the race? Absolutely. Am I someone who never finishes a hundred mile race? Maybe? I’m not saying never again, but I’m also not itching to sign up for a redemption race. Right now, I’m going to focus on races that I think will be fun. I guess if I had to sum up my feelings and experience of my Eastern States 100 DNF, I’d have to say “medium.”
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