The Spirit Live's On!
by Bill Richardson on Tuesday, November 16, 2010 at 7:01am
First off let me say that this site is not very pretty but I'm working on that, just haven't had the time! The following is a race report about the Mother Road 100 #3 and my story; really over the last several generations. It's long but I've poured my soul into it! Also, I know there's grammatical errors......but it's me...it's my way of telling my story and relaying my insides to the outside. I also have some cuss words, if you’re offended….I don’t apologize…in these times of political correctness I’m writing from my soul. And if you stay to the end, I think you’ll see what I mean.
My grandpa Howell, my mom's dad, walked into this territory from the State of Kentucky in 1906 behind a covered wagon. He was just about 5 years old and I probably ran on some of the same soil he walked across during this race. I can’t even imagine what that was like, leaving your home and in a covered wagon nonetheless to come into an unknown part of this great country. If you draw a line from that area of Kentucky to where they settled in Oklahoma…I had to of criss-crossed a part of their wanderings. That played into my race a bunch during the night!
The race was the (MR) Mother Road 100 #3, named in honor, of course, the Mother Road 66. MR number 1 was run in 2006 from Arcadia, Oklahoma to Sapulpa, Oklahoma. MR number 2 was run from the State line west of Elk City to Fort Reno, just west of the OKC area. This race trio was dreamed up by some local boys from OKC, the same one’s who put on the OKC Memorial Marathon each year. Proud to call these guys my friends, if I start naming names I’ll leave someone out and I’ll be in trouble, so Thomas and Brett tell everyone else “thanks for the memories”!
This race was originally run in 1928, from Los Angeles, California to New York City, New York. A local boy, Andy Payne from Foyil, Oklahoma (where there is a statue in his honor, we ran by it in Foyil) was the eventual winner of the sum of $25,000……that’s 1928 $ value! He averaged about a 6 mph pace over 3000 miles in just about 3 months time! Went back home to Foyil, paid off his dad and mom’s mortgage, built them a new house, and married his childhood sweetheart! To say that his spirit wasn’t with all of us running this race would be foolhardy!
The MR #3 was the last segment of the 3 race series since 2006. The OKC boys say that this was the final one, no more, that’s it! Well I had run in MR #1 and due to hyponatremia, (that’s low blood sodium) passed out at about mile 83ish and just about saw the pearly gates! I woke up the next morning in my bed with little to no knowledge about what had happened to me the night before. Learned my lesson about sodium….thought so anyway! Signed up for MR #2 but due to family plans had to back out! In its place I tried the Arkansas Traveler 100; it’s a 100 mile trail race close to Conway, Arkansas. In that race, I lost so much weight that I really got sick, they wanted to take me to the emergency room in Conway but I wouldn’t let the race officials do it. I threw up for probably 12-14 hours and when I got home, I had lost in the neighborhood of 21 pounds. I was beginning to think I’d never be able to complete my life’s goal of reaching 100 miles in a footrace! Well fast forward to 2010 and the MR #3 race.
We started in Baxter Springs, Kansas at 9:00 a.m. on a beautiful Saturday morning, could not have been more perfect! My plan was to go with what my body told me, now I know what some of you are thinking, that it’s already told you that! Well I hadn’t reached that life’s goal just yet so the itching was still there, as well as 2 did not finishes (DNF’s) at my first two attempts. I came through the early checkpoints in a good time on the clock and when I hit the Afton station, I was out of water and quickly filled my two water bottles with what I thought was water, NOT! Turned out to be Heed, which I’ve never been able to drink…..makes me sick every time! But, I was now almost 1.5 miles out of Afton and turning around was not an option. So, it was onto the next aid station! 2 – 2.5 miles out of Afton it hit me; throwing up, headache, and diarrhea. I was in trouble and I still had around 15 miles before I reached the half-way point! To describe the next few miles would not be nice or polite but I think you get the picture. I lost an incredible amount of weight….now I weigh numerous times throughout the day….so when I say I lost weight…I know it! I didn’t have a belly…nothing! It wasn’t pooching out or anything and I knew if I came into the halfway point, (where the next weigh-in would be) I would be forced to drop out because of weight loss. You see, before the race they weigh each of us runners and we are warned at 6% loss, and dropped at 7%. I walked; I crawled, and somehow reached Vinita…the half-way spot at 8 hours and 5 minutes, on my watch. Just shortly before the aid station I called my wife and told her I’m dropping….I was so frustrated…I cannot describe my feelings without cussing…so I’m not gonna start! First thing I did was right before Vinita….it was dark….I drank all the water I had which was about 40 oz. then put on my night-time running clothes. They weighed about; I figure 3-5 pounds, and then found a check-in person to weigh in. The man I found, by chance was a doctor, Dr. Tom Coniglione. First thing he did, of course, was weigh me and check my vitals. He did not like what he found, asked if he could put some IV’s in me then started the process.
I, in my head, was losing it….I was on the verge of crying and felt like a complete failure, again! Excuse me……….but dammit, it wasn’t easy to hold it in when I had specifically trained for just this race for almost 10 months! I had found a trainer on January 1, 2010 and told her what my goal was and she pretty much kicked my butt into high gear. So, the problem wasn’t my legs this time….she saw to that one! Well anyway, Dr. Tom was finding folks to hold onto the IV drip because it was so cold that they had to force the drip out of the bag, putting pressure on the bag to do so. My veins, because of low weight and water levels were not even hardly visible….the doc and nurse, (who was Brian Hoover’s sister…my friend in the TATUR running club) apologized that it was taking so much effort. They’d stick me and the vein would move, finally doc held about a ½ inch segment of one they found on the right hand, and got it into the bloodstream. Now in my mind, I had dropped from the race……just hadn’t told anyone yet! Then it began to happen!
I went back to thinking about my grandpa and what he went through walking behind that covered wagon, and possibly through this very area. I thought about my own dad, (who was and is my hero, he went to be with the Lord in 1999) and what we had went through with losing our farms, our equipment, our livelihood, and our dreams in the late 1980’s. And Andy Payne came back into my mind…..now excuse me again, but I got pissed….I don’t mean just mad…I mean nobody and nuthin’ was gonna get in my way of realizing THIS dream this time! The damned banks, FHA, PCA, and government took our dreams away in 1987….it wasn’t happening again if I could help it!
Now the two bags of IV drips were beginning to take over, Doc told me I’d begin to feel like I had high octane gas in my engine….wow…did I ever! During this time they were feeding me chicken broth and bananas, I felt like I’d just had a fresh oil and lube-grease job-and a complete 97 point once over! I was actually glad that I hadn’t told anyone, but my wife that I was dropping from the race. So, as my old junior high wrestling coach used to tell me…shut up, get out there and get it done!
At about that time I saw Ken Childress coming through the station, asked if I could tag along and he was more than happy to have another person with him. You see, Ken is kinda like one of our TATUR groups ole wise men…( I figured hell I’ve tried this with my own way of thinkin’ and look where that’s gotten me, let someone else do the thinkin’, you just move your feet)! Luckily Ken’s wife Dana is an RN and that was another variable in this night’s equation I hadn’t even considered before the race. They had everything, and I mean everything….from nutrition to medicine to advice to friendship to helping me finish this goal! I really felt good, I didn’t hurt and we walked the hills ran the flats and enjoyed the moment together. I had called my wife Shonna just before I had left Vinita and told her we’re heading towards White Oak, the next water stop on our endeavor.
Shonna and Abigail, our youngest daughter found us at about mile marker 63ish. It was a very good feeling to have my family with me, but now the night began to get very cold. If we stopped for any length of time, I would begin to shake but I knew I had to eat….and keep moving. Shonna, Abby, Dana, Ken, and Ken’s pacers through the night kept me going. We made it into Chelsea and the warmth of a heated hotel room that served as the aid station. I never realized how hot chicken soup and saltines were really a delicacy! Doc had told me to take bananas, soup or broth, and salt…….but sip it slowly and take it easy putting it into my system. So I did! For the first time I actually began to think…maybe, just maybe I can finish this thing! All the time Dana kept saying to me, drink-drink-drink! So I did, and let me tell you I peed enough times that Ken started asking me…so just how many times do you think you’ve went tonight? I figure somewhere in the ballpark of 25-30 times I stopped, relieved myself then took off again! One time, in the morning hours after daylight the only spot was some evergreens in the middle of the 4-lane road by Claremore. I finished, and jumped out of the bushes only to see two guys in a pickup truck look at me like I was a homeless guy that was crazy! Well, they got one part right wrong anyway…….I do have a home….LOL…my humor! We pulled into the Foyil check point, which was 77.55 miles and my weight was just about 157! Yes, I had started to come back weight-wise and was feeling very good!
Within about 20-25 minutes we started out of the Foyil station and headed to Claremore. It was now getting light but the clouds were hanging on and I was having a hard time staying warm. Within about the next 1-2 miles, somewhere around mile 80 I figure….I started throwing up again. I got dizzy, started to think about the office pot! You see, I had made a bet with my folks at my company where I work that I’d make it this time…but they could bet against me if they wished! It went like this, if I dropped out between mile markers 1 – 50….that person with their name on that mileage line won the entire pot. If I dropped out between 50.01 – 99.99 then we’d split the pot. If, by luck, I finished the race….I won the entire pot! The only thing I was thinking about at this time was who the heck had written their name in on mile 81….I figured they’d put a hex on me! Well Ken gave me some rock salt and within a few minutes I felt better again. Off we go! We came into Claremore and went around the edge of the town, more nature breaks and now the ankles were shouting at me to stop!
At about mile 87ish Abigail began to pace me in…now I was in uncharted territory, had never ran this far before. But between Abby, Shonna, and the rest of the gang we kept plodding, and plodding, and etc. Finally came into Verdigris and stopped to get a hot coffee at a convenience store. With the sun now beginning to shine I felt better, but as any ultra runner knows…..things can change in an instant. It hadn’t yet, but at mile 97 I was wasted….I had given it everything I had and I didn’t have anymore to give. It’s funny how things happen for a reason….in life…..and this was no different. On the top of my thoughts was, mile 97…mile 97….that’s Austin Heltne…he’s gonna win half this pot! I thought, huh…half isn’t bad then I looked over at my Abigail and she was as fresh as a new born baby colt. So I thought about it again, if you don’t finish and if you really, really have any kind of a desire to not think of yourself as a loser…you’ll just, “get er’ done”! Then all the emotions of my family came flooding back into my mind. First was my grandpa, what would they of done if they broke an axle wheel on the wagon or someone got hurt along the way? They dealt with it; they did what they knew to do………complete the journey! It’s was and is the reason why I am on this road today running this race….they didn’t quit…..what on earth is so bad as to not be able to run just 3 more miles!
Let me say….3 miles…well……that was the hardest 3 miles I’ve done in my life! My muscles didn’t hurt but my bones did….hurt so bad that I’d decided then and there if I caused long range damage it was worth the effort of accomplishing this goal! Now, I’ve dropped out of races less than this because I didn’t want to hurt myself….but this was different. I began to think about Andy Payne and how many times he probably felt the same way, I thought about my dad fighting cancer……..and NOT one time did he complain! Not even when his little body had wasted down to 90ish pounds…..and for 3 long, agonizing, painful, hurtful months did he ever say anything negative! That had did it for me….if I broke something or dislocated something or caused long-range mental instability, (you guys at work can’t say anything) it was worth every doctor visit!
We came into the stadium at Catoosa and as we rounded the the 330 yards we did on the final track lap, Ken reached down and grabbed my hand. We had come 50 long and hard miles together…..and I be damned if we didn’t come across the finish line in unison! That’s how life is supposed to be, we think we’re meaner, stronger, tougher than we really are. But we’d never amount to anything if it wasn’t for God, family, and friends!
And, I saw Doc Coniglione at the finish line…he wanted a picture----with me! I forgot to mention that he had checked up on me at mile marker 87! Told me he had been looking for me throughout the morning and wanted to make sure I was alright. He was concerned and was very sincere in his action and word. Told me he was proud of me…….folks I’ve been married with a family for darned near 30 years now, but to have someone tell me the things he did I began to cry! I thought of all the earlier events in my life and then it hit me; I had just reached one of my life’s goals! I still haven’t come down yet!
I’d like to say a very sincere thank you to my family who I know prayed me through the night. For sure Shonna and Abby but also all the rest back home! Can’t say it enough, thank you guys……
And secondly, my friends Ken and Dana Childress, Tom Robinson, Deborah Gulley and her daughters, and the host of people that just were there for us runners through this endeavor. Thank you guys as well!
by Bill Richardson on Tuesday, November 16, 2010 at 7:01am
First off let me say that this site is not very pretty but I'm working on that, just haven't had the time! The following is a race report about the Mother Road 100 #3 and my story; really over the last several generations. It's long but I've poured my soul into it! Also, I know there's grammatical errors......but it's me...it's my way of telling my story and relaying my insides to the outside. I also have some cuss words, if you’re offended….I don’t apologize…in these times of political correctness I’m writing from my soul. And if you stay to the end, I think you’ll see what I mean.
My grandpa Howell, my mom's dad, walked into this territory from the State of Kentucky in 1906 behind a covered wagon. He was just about 5 years old and I probably ran on some of the same soil he walked across during this race. I can’t even imagine what that was like, leaving your home and in a covered wagon nonetheless to come into an unknown part of this great country. If you draw a line from that area of Kentucky to where they settled in Oklahoma…I had to of criss-crossed a part of their wanderings. That played into my race a bunch during the night!
The race was the (MR) Mother Road 100 #3, named in honor, of course, the Mother Road 66. MR number 1 was run in 2006 from Arcadia, Oklahoma to Sapulpa, Oklahoma. MR number 2 was run from the State line west of Elk City to Fort Reno, just west of the OKC area. This race trio was dreamed up by some local boys from OKC, the same one’s who put on the OKC Memorial Marathon each year. Proud to call these guys my friends, if I start naming names I’ll leave someone out and I’ll be in trouble, so Thomas and Brett tell everyone else “thanks for the memories”!
This race was originally run in 1928, from Los Angeles, California to New York City, New York. A local boy, Andy Payne from Foyil, Oklahoma (where there is a statue in his honor, we ran by it in Foyil) was the eventual winner of the sum of $25,000……that’s 1928 $ value! He averaged about a 6 mph pace over 3000 miles in just about 3 months time! Went back home to Foyil, paid off his dad and mom’s mortgage, built them a new house, and married his childhood sweetheart! To say that his spirit wasn’t with all of us running this race would be foolhardy!
The MR #3 was the last segment of the 3 race series since 2006. The OKC boys say that this was the final one, no more, that’s it! Well I had run in MR #1 and due to hyponatremia, (that’s low blood sodium) passed out at about mile 83ish and just about saw the pearly gates! I woke up the next morning in my bed with little to no knowledge about what had happened to me the night before. Learned my lesson about sodium….thought so anyway! Signed up for MR #2 but due to family plans had to back out! In its place I tried the Arkansas Traveler 100; it’s a 100 mile trail race close to Conway, Arkansas. In that race, I lost so much weight that I really got sick, they wanted to take me to the emergency room in Conway but I wouldn’t let the race officials do it. I threw up for probably 12-14 hours and when I got home, I had lost in the neighborhood of 21 pounds. I was beginning to think I’d never be able to complete my life’s goal of reaching 100 miles in a footrace! Well fast forward to 2010 and the MR #3 race.
We started in Baxter Springs, Kansas at 9:00 a.m. on a beautiful Saturday morning, could not have been more perfect! My plan was to go with what my body told me, now I know what some of you are thinking, that it’s already told you that! Well I hadn’t reached that life’s goal just yet so the itching was still there, as well as 2 did not finishes (DNF’s) at my first two attempts. I came through the early checkpoints in a good time on the clock and when I hit the Afton station, I was out of water and quickly filled my two water bottles with what I thought was water, NOT! Turned out to be Heed, which I’ve never been able to drink…..makes me sick every time! But, I was now almost 1.5 miles out of Afton and turning around was not an option. So, it was onto the next aid station! 2 – 2.5 miles out of Afton it hit me; throwing up, headache, and diarrhea. I was in trouble and I still had around 15 miles before I reached the half-way point! To describe the next few miles would not be nice or polite but I think you get the picture. I lost an incredible amount of weight….now I weigh numerous times throughout the day….so when I say I lost weight…I know it! I didn’t have a belly…nothing! It wasn’t pooching out or anything and I knew if I came into the halfway point, (where the next weigh-in would be) I would be forced to drop out because of weight loss. You see, before the race they weigh each of us runners and we are warned at 6% loss, and dropped at 7%. I walked; I crawled, and somehow reached Vinita…the half-way spot at 8 hours and 5 minutes, on my watch. Just shortly before the aid station I called my wife and told her I’m dropping….I was so frustrated…I cannot describe my feelings without cussing…so I’m not gonna start! First thing I did was right before Vinita….it was dark….I drank all the water I had which was about 40 oz. then put on my night-time running clothes. They weighed about; I figure 3-5 pounds, and then found a check-in person to weigh in. The man I found, by chance was a doctor, Dr. Tom Coniglione. First thing he did, of course, was weigh me and check my vitals. He did not like what he found, asked if he could put some IV’s in me then started the process.
I, in my head, was losing it….I was on the verge of crying and felt like a complete failure, again! Excuse me……….but dammit, it wasn’t easy to hold it in when I had specifically trained for just this race for almost 10 months! I had found a trainer on January 1, 2010 and told her what my goal was and she pretty much kicked my butt into high gear. So, the problem wasn’t my legs this time….she saw to that one! Well anyway, Dr. Tom was finding folks to hold onto the IV drip because it was so cold that they had to force the drip out of the bag, putting pressure on the bag to do so. My veins, because of low weight and water levels were not even hardly visible….the doc and nurse, (who was Brian Hoover’s sister…my friend in the TATUR running club) apologized that it was taking so much effort. They’d stick me and the vein would move, finally doc held about a ½ inch segment of one they found on the right hand, and got it into the bloodstream. Now in my mind, I had dropped from the race……just hadn’t told anyone yet! Then it began to happen!
I went back to thinking about my grandpa and what he went through walking behind that covered wagon, and possibly through this very area. I thought about my own dad, (who was and is my hero, he went to be with the Lord in 1999) and what we had went through with losing our farms, our equipment, our livelihood, and our dreams in the late 1980’s. And Andy Payne came back into my mind…..now excuse me again, but I got pissed….I don’t mean just mad…I mean nobody and nuthin’ was gonna get in my way of realizing THIS dream this time! The damned banks, FHA, PCA, and government took our dreams away in 1987….it wasn’t happening again if I could help it!
Now the two bags of IV drips were beginning to take over, Doc told me I’d begin to feel like I had high octane gas in my engine….wow…did I ever! During this time they were feeding me chicken broth and bananas, I felt like I’d just had a fresh oil and lube-grease job-and a complete 97 point once over! I was actually glad that I hadn’t told anyone, but my wife that I was dropping from the race. So, as my old junior high wrestling coach used to tell me…shut up, get out there and get it done!
At about that time I saw Ken Childress coming through the station, asked if I could tag along and he was more than happy to have another person with him. You see, Ken is kinda like one of our TATUR groups ole wise men…( I figured hell I’ve tried this with my own way of thinkin’ and look where that’s gotten me, let someone else do the thinkin’, you just move your feet)! Luckily Ken’s wife Dana is an RN and that was another variable in this night’s equation I hadn’t even considered before the race. They had everything, and I mean everything….from nutrition to medicine to advice to friendship to helping me finish this goal! I really felt good, I didn’t hurt and we walked the hills ran the flats and enjoyed the moment together. I had called my wife Shonna just before I had left Vinita and told her we’re heading towards White Oak, the next water stop on our endeavor.
Shonna and Abigail, our youngest daughter found us at about mile marker 63ish. It was a very good feeling to have my family with me, but now the night began to get very cold. If we stopped for any length of time, I would begin to shake but I knew I had to eat….and keep moving. Shonna, Abby, Dana, Ken, and Ken’s pacers through the night kept me going. We made it into Chelsea and the warmth of a heated hotel room that served as the aid station. I never realized how hot chicken soup and saltines were really a delicacy! Doc had told me to take bananas, soup or broth, and salt…….but sip it slowly and take it easy putting it into my system. So I did! For the first time I actually began to think…maybe, just maybe I can finish this thing! All the time Dana kept saying to me, drink-drink-drink! So I did, and let me tell you I peed enough times that Ken started asking me…so just how many times do you think you’ve went tonight? I figure somewhere in the ballpark of 25-30 times I stopped, relieved myself then took off again! One time, in the morning hours after daylight the only spot was some evergreens in the middle of the 4-lane road by Claremore. I finished, and jumped out of the bushes only to see two guys in a pickup truck look at me like I was a homeless guy that was crazy! Well, they got one part right wrong anyway…….I do have a home….LOL…my humor! We pulled into the Foyil check point, which was 77.55 miles and my weight was just about 157! Yes, I had started to come back weight-wise and was feeling very good!
Within about 20-25 minutes we started out of the Foyil station and headed to Claremore. It was now getting light but the clouds were hanging on and I was having a hard time staying warm. Within about the next 1-2 miles, somewhere around mile 80 I figure….I started throwing up again. I got dizzy, started to think about the office pot! You see, I had made a bet with my folks at my company where I work that I’d make it this time…but they could bet against me if they wished! It went like this, if I dropped out between mile markers 1 – 50….that person with their name on that mileage line won the entire pot. If I dropped out between 50.01 – 99.99 then we’d split the pot. If, by luck, I finished the race….I won the entire pot! The only thing I was thinking about at this time was who the heck had written their name in on mile 81….I figured they’d put a hex on me! Well Ken gave me some rock salt and within a few minutes I felt better again. Off we go! We came into Claremore and went around the edge of the town, more nature breaks and now the ankles were shouting at me to stop!
At about mile 87ish Abigail began to pace me in…now I was in uncharted territory, had never ran this far before. But between Abby, Shonna, and the rest of the gang we kept plodding, and plodding, and etc. Finally came into Verdigris and stopped to get a hot coffee at a convenience store. With the sun now beginning to shine I felt better, but as any ultra runner knows…..things can change in an instant. It hadn’t yet, but at mile 97 I was wasted….I had given it everything I had and I didn’t have anymore to give. It’s funny how things happen for a reason….in life…..and this was no different. On the top of my thoughts was, mile 97…mile 97….that’s Austin Heltne…he’s gonna win half this pot! I thought, huh…half isn’t bad then I looked over at my Abigail and she was as fresh as a new born baby colt. So I thought about it again, if you don’t finish and if you really, really have any kind of a desire to not think of yourself as a loser…you’ll just, “get er’ done”! Then all the emotions of my family came flooding back into my mind. First was my grandpa, what would they of done if they broke an axle wheel on the wagon or someone got hurt along the way? They dealt with it; they did what they knew to do………complete the journey! It’s was and is the reason why I am on this road today running this race….they didn’t quit…..what on earth is so bad as to not be able to run just 3 more miles!Let me say….3 miles…well……that was the hardest 3 miles I’ve done in my life! My muscles didn’t hurt but my bones did….hurt so bad that I’d decided then and there if I caused long range damage it was worth the effort of accomplishing this goal! Now, I’ve dropped out of races less than this because I didn’t want to hurt myself….but this was different. I began to think about Andy Payne and how many times he probably felt the same way, I thought about my dad fighting cancer……..and NOT one time did he complain! Not even when his little body had wasted down to 90ish pounds…..and for 3 long, agonizing, painful, hurtful months did he ever say anything negative! That had did it for me….if I broke something or dislocated something or caused long-range mental instability, (you guys at work can’t say anything) it was worth every doctor visit!
We came into the stadium at Catoosa and as we rounded the the 330 yards we did on the final track lap, Ken reached down and grabbed my hand. We had come 50 long and hard miles together…..and I be damned if we didn’t come across the finish line in unison! That’s how life is supposed to be, we think we’re meaner, stronger, tougher than we really are. But we’d never amount to anything if it wasn’t for God, family, and friends!
And, I saw Doc Coniglione at the finish line…he wanted a picture----with me! I forgot to mention that he had checked up on me at mile marker 87! Told me he had been looking for me throughout the morning and wanted to make sure I was alright. He was concerned and was very sincere in his action and word. Told me he was proud of me…….folks I’ve been married with a family for darned near 30 years now, but to have someone tell me the things he did I began to cry! I thought of all the earlier events in my life and then it hit me; I had just reached one of my life’s goals! I still haven’t come down yet!I’d like to say a very sincere thank you to my family who I know prayed me through the night. For sure Shonna and Abby but also all the rest back home! Can’t say it enough, thank you guys……
And secondly, my friends Ken and Dana Childress, Tom Robinson, Deborah Gulley and her daughters, and the host of people that just were there for us runners through this endeavor. Thank you guys as well!
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