Sometimes the most meaningful challenges come from the most personal places. When my friend's daughter Lexie was diagnosed with cancer, I couldn't help but think about what that would mean for my own daughter and family. That's when I decided to run 100 miles.
I'm doing it again in under 4 weeks. Your support was overwhelming and it would be unfair for me not to continue to fundraise. All of your support, combined with the experience of last year's event drove me to continue to train. That included a few marathons, a 50k, a 50 miler, and over two years of never missing running at least a half marathon a weekend.
The Personal Connection
I decided to run last year because my friend's daughter Lexie was diagnosed with Cancer and I selfishly related it to the impact it would have on my daughter, and my family. It's unimaginable for me to even try to understand the hardships her and her family have to endure. I'm happy to report Lexie has been in remission since May 2018. The effects of treatment will last her lifetime. She still has to get frequent scans, which I'm sure creates a level of unrest, uncertainty, and anxiety for the family.
The Challenge
Last year, I was able to complete 100 miles in 42 hours (64 out of 146 solo runners). The male winner went 205 miles, the female winner set a course record with 204 miles, and the relay team winner went 443 miles combined. Other notable achievements included a childhood cancer survivor who ran 176 miles, a 16-year-old 100 mile finisher, a 83 year old who ran 60 miles, and wheelchair participate who reached 94 miles. The race had an incredible volunteer army that made sure all runners were equipped to meet their goals.
This was definitely the hardest physical challenge I've endured. I wasn't even close to prepared for the physical or mental tests it took to get to the end. The various episodes of pain seemed insurmountable, between plantar fasciitis, blisters, cramps, and bruises. Incomparable to any type of pain, challenge, or actual battle that any child/family with cancer endures.
"The various episodes of pain seemed insurmountable, between plantar fasciitis, blisters, cramps, and bruises. Incomparable to any type of pain, challenge, or actual battle that any child/family with cancer endures."
The Snowdrop Foundation
I'm lucky enough to have an incredible sister and brother-in-law. They started the Snowdrop Foundation after meeting an amazing teenage girl named Chelsey who was fighting cancer at a radio-thon at Texas Children's Hospital. She lost that fight, and it has motivated them to do some pretty awesome things in her memory. One of their events is featured in a documentary called Dear Chelsey which follows my brother-in-law Kevin Kline running across the state of Texas. His latest adventure, Delivering Hope, was a 300 mile run on the Dalton Highway (from Ice Road Truckers) and carried over 1,800 children's cancer patients names with him to the top of the world raising around over $200,000 on the way.
Kevin's ultra runs provide a platform for Snowdrop to raise awareness for childhood cancer. Since 2006, the Snowdrop Foundation has donated nearly a million dollars. Seven years ago, Kevin recruited other ultra-runners and created the Snowdrop Ultra 55 Hour Race and Relay in Houston Texas. I actually volunteered at one of these events and specifically remember how exhausting it was as a non-participate. I didn't return until last year…
The Impact
Last year's event raised $164,000 and donations toward my run contributed over $5,500. The foundation has donated nearly a million dollars since 2006, funding continued research to eliminate childhood cancer and providing scholarships for college-bound pediatric cancer patients and survivors.
If you are planning a donation before the end of the year, please consider Snowdrop. Your money is going to great cause, is tax deductible, and will help drive me across the finish line.
What I Learned
This experience taught me that the most meaningful challenges often come from the most personal places. When we connect our personal struggles to a greater cause, we find strength we didn't know we had. The physical pain of running 100 miles pales in comparison to what families fighting childhood cancer endure every day.
It also showed me the power of community. The incredible volunteer army, the other runners pushing their limits, and the supporters who donated – all of it created something bigger than any individual effort. That's what makes these challenges meaningful.
