3rd place for #3 at the Midstate Massive 100
“Being brave, for me, means not giving up on the things that make me feel alive.” - Gabe Grunewald
For those of you who have followed my social media feeds and blog over the past 6 months, know that I was a big fan of Gabe Grunewald.
Back in May I ran the virtual Brave Like Gabe 5K and my bib packet came with a "Running on Hope" temporary tattoo. I decided I would save it for a time that I knew I would need a little bit extra motivation to continue on. In the months since Gabe's passing, I have been following her husband Justin and am inspired by how he is pushing their foundation forward.
So Saturday morning, I got up, and I put that temporary tattoo on my forearm and decided this was going to be the day I would be "Running on Hope."
Running for so many of us is personal. For me, it definitely makes me feel alive, but it is so much more then that. It is tough to describe to the non-runner, specially when you talk about doing something crazy like running 100 miles. Most people they can't comprehend this. But, do they really need to?
As I sat in my kitchen drinking my coffee I opened Facebook and saw that Eluid Kipchoge had just broken 2 hours in the marathon with the quote saying “I don’t know where the limits are, but I would like to go there.” Now this is something I can barely comprehend.
About 2 hours later, Doug and I pulled into Wind Blown Ski area in New Ipswich, NH. It was almost go time. I just had to hold it together for the first technical and hilly 30 miles to get to Wachusett, climb the mountain, and then it would be smooth sailing from there. Right? At least that is what I kept telling myself.
Part of the lore of long distance trail running is the unknown. You really don't know what the course will bring, how your body will hold up, or what can and will go wrong. It is a challenge within a challenge.
As we killed the final hour before the race we chatted with some fellow runners. The mood was pretty chill, which was definitely helping. First there was Jeff and Samantha. This was Jeff's first 100 and I had run the Boston Double with Samantha back in June. Then there was Bill. Right after I told one of my favorite racing stories. The time back in 2014 when I passed a runner at the final aid station in the TARC Spring Classic to take over 3rd place and he dropped his drink to try and catch me, he shows up and calls me out on the incident. All I could do was laugh.
Note: All below miles are aligned to my GPS and differ slightly from the official course due to missed turns. I logged the 103.72 miles.
Right at 9:30, we were off. I took off quickly as we were on a easy descent on a fire road. The race's youngest participant (15), Tobias, followed me for about a half mile before slowing a bit.
I always like to start fast in ultras. I feel it gives me a sense of my environment and what is going on. I generally drop back to a sustainable pace after a mile or 2. I ran the first mile in 8:41 before slowing down to 12-14 over the next few.
The first 7 miles were on the Wapack trail. I have run through here a couple of times and was familiar with the terrain. I crossed over Barret Mtn, New Ipswich Mtn, Stony Top, and Pratt. I felt like I was floating softly over the terrain and even stopped for a quick pic. It was wet out, but not raining. I was feeling very positive and almost in a zen state.
Around mile 7 is where we crossed into Massachusetts and picked up the Midstate trail. This is where I caught my first runner from the 8:30 wave. He seemed to be having some trouble navigating. Then as I passed by the split that went up to Watatic, a few more runners were coming back at me. The route wasn't marked in this section, but I had looked at the maps and knew we weren't going over the peak. I ran with them through the Watatic parking lot and to the aid station on Old Pierce Rd before taking off on my own.
Throughout the race one of the biggest challenges was the navigation. The route was really only marked at the road sections. Otherwise you were supposed to just follow the blazed Midstate signs. The problem is, they aren't always optimally placed. As a backup I had an app (RaceJoy) running on my phone that would tell me if I was more then 100 yards off route (and apparently alert anyone following me using the app). It was good as a back up. I was already eager to get to the 50 mile part and turn all my navigation responsibility over to Doug, my pacer for the second half.
After simply chugging along for the next 3-4 miles, I got on route 101, the first of the re-routes to avoid private land. This was a welcome change and I was able to run 8:40 pace for the next few miles and really stretch my legs out.
At mile 24, I crossed RT 2, still one of my favorite parts of the course. Not quite sure why, but driving under the course so many times just makes me realize how much I love to run on trails and how I would rather be doing that most of the time. Just after the crossing was the aid station. I was averaging 11:30, a bit faster then I planned (I had estimated 12-13), but feeling really good. After a quick snack, some Coke, and a chat with Doug and Samantha I moved on. I had caught a few more runners. I knew then next 8 miles would be the hardest of the course.
After I short re-route, we took an access trail back up (literally straight up, it was 15+% grade) to the Midstate. The section between Leominster State Forest and Wachusett Mtn is the gnarliest of the trail. I've run this section twice before, first at the North Face MA 50 miler in June 2018 and then again this summer. Once I got on the ridge, I was greeted with wet leaves. This only made it more difficult. For the first time in the race, I looked down at the "Running on Hope" tattoo on my right forearm and said to myself, "You can do this."
After fighting through a series of 13-16 minute miles, I finally made it to Wachusett. I was first greeted by Bill (see the 2014 throw down above) and then saw Amy and Neil for the first time. I laughed as Neil ran around the parking lot with 3 balloons, a 1, 0, and 0 tied to his boots (Shout out to Lisa for getting us the balloons). Amy made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I took off up Wachusett. Just a short 2 mile climb and then the course was easy from there right?
The climb wasn't too bad, but the descent down the back was pretty rocky. Energy wise I was still feeling well, but my quads were already starting to get sore. Luckily, miles 35-39 where that reprieve I was looking for and I was able to hold to 10ish pace before getting back on the trail.
At this point I was running second overall. Now keep in mind this was a staged start so that didn't really mean anything, but it would be nice to track down the leader. As I left the aid station, I could see him up in the distance. Then all of a sudden he stopped and put his headlamp on. Was it really that late already? I didn't even have my head lamp with me. I need to get to mile 48 to get it.
By mile 46 it was getting dark and being under dense tree cover it was getting dark quicker than I expected. After a near fall, I knew I had to go to my backup plan. I pulled out my cell phone, now down to 18% battery and turned on the flashlight. A little discouraged by the situation, I looked at my forearm again and said "You can do this."
After about 2 miles of slogging through the woods praying for the next aid station to be around every corner I caught up to the runner in front of me, Mike. Now dark the trail was even harder to follow. After little bit of some routing finding mishaps (apparently nearly everyone had trouble navigating here) we finally found the aid station, Barre Falls. As we crossed by the water we both said, "I bet this is beautiful in the daylight."
While stopped at the aid station I see Chris, from Mass Ultra. Then a few second later, I see he has tagged me in Facebook post. Jokingly, I say "Mass Ultra has tagged you in a post." Chris says "Sorry" and I respond with "I didn't read it. It probably says some moron just came out of the woods using his cell phone as a head lamp." Chris responds with "Been there, done that. And the post will still be there when you get home." I just laugh.
Now equipped with both my headlamp and a running buddy (Mike) to work with, my spirits were back up. The next stretch was about 6 miles and included a combination of rocky, but not to hilly single track, and fire road. We both figured that if there was as much road / fire road we were promised in the back half, we would have a good race.
At 9:03pm, I arrived at the Rutland boat launch aid station, mile 54, where I was allowed to pick up my pacer. After a change of clothes, and a pic with Neil and Doug, we took off. As were heading out of the parking lot Amy came running over with my headlamp. I just laughed. I hadn't even gone 10 yards yet and I had already turned my brain off and put all my faith in Doug to lead me to the finish.
The next 14 miles were a total bear. First, we got lost in the Ware River Watershed and then at a farm somewhere. The while the trail wasn't that hilly, there was an abundance of rocks and roots that just
made it impossible to find a groove.
Finally, at mile 69 we were on the roads again. I was never so happy to be out of the woods. Minus a few road crossings, miles 39 - 68 were entirely trail. While this is good for a trail race, doing it in the dark after a long day was a huge mental challenge.
Mile 69 - 72 were simply awesome. My legs hurt like hell, but I was running again. I was even keeping my pace below 12 minute miles.
There is something about running through towns in the middle of the night that I really enjoy. Maybe it is just the calmness of knowing that you are in an inhabited area, but at this moment it mind as well be uninhabited. During my runs up to and in Gloucester for the Coast to NF events we found this as well. It was around 1am at this time and simply put, just peaceful.
Mile 75 was a short trail section, but already hurting it took even more out of me. My headlamp had moved from super bright mode (which I get for 5 hours) to dim mode (which I get for another 5) making navigation more difficult. My right shoe became untied and when I bent down to tie it and I simply couldn't reach. Doug came running over and goes "I got it." All I could think was "Man did I find the right pacer."
During a quick stop at the mile 78 aid station a 50 miler is asking what the process for dropping is. I looked at him and half jokingly said, "You aren't allowed to." As he limped out I felt a little bit bad. I was happy to see later that he had finished the race.
Shortly, we entered the woods again. It was after 4am and had gotten a bit chillier out. Our pace had slowed to a crawl. Doug tells me he is proud of me, that we are doing great and have come really far. I snap back, "Just don't get us F'ing get us lost." I have always heard about people being mean to their pacers as the race wears on them, but this was the first time I really started to take it out on him. For that I am sorry. Luckily, to break the mood, we see a possum up ahead on the trail. Doug shines his light on the possum and it doesn't move. So we start chasing him and he scampers down the trail. After about 30 yards Doug looks back to me and says "Am I hallucinating? Do you see him?" Laughing I respond with yes he is real and then just like that he (the possum not Doug) disappears into the woods.
The next few miles after that were brutal. I was freezing, I couldn't keep my eyes open, and I was tripping over every rock. After a 24 and 25 minute mile my mind finally went to a dark place. What was I doing out here? What was I trying to prove? Did any of this really make any sense? The thought of quitting had come into my mind. I've run over 2600 miles and climbed over 170,000' so far this year. How could I possible feel so bad?
Luckily for mile 85, we were back on the road. I had one goal in mind. Get to the aid station and curl up in a sleeping bag in my van. If I felt better in an hour so, get going again. Otherwise call it.
As I entered the aid station (~5:30am), Amy was standing there. She had been waiting for us for nearly an hour and half. I said "I need to lay down" and within 5 minutes I was bundled up in a sleeping bag with Neil laying on me (giving me some extra warmth). Somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour later, Amy opened the door and said "if you are going to go, go." I sprung up and said "I think I'm ok."
After a quick bowl of oatmeal, Doug (Who had wrapped up and slept in a sleeping bag in a camping chair, also thanks to Amy) and I hit the road again. It truly felt like it was a new day. The sun had risen (Note: I have completed two 100 milers now and missed the sunrise on both).
We were running again almost immediately. I knocked out miles 87 and 88 at 10:38 and 10:41 respectively. I felt like we were flying. All Doug could say was "I can't believe you got up. I thought you were done."
As we reached the aid station at 92 I felt invigorated. I told the 50 milers sitting there that I had just destroyed the last 5 miles. After a pancake and hot apple cider we hit the road with somewhere around 11 miles to go.
Mile 97 brought us to the second to last aid station. As we entered, Doug asked how far ahead the next 100 mile runner was. The volunteer said "She passed through looking beat about 20 minutes ago." Doug said "Lets go take her down." I looked at the tattoo my forearm for the final time and said "Lets do this."
The next 3 miles were a blur. I had dropped completely into the zone and had laser focus as I hopped from rock to rock. Just after mile 99 we saw her up in the distance. Doug looks at me an says "Pass with authority" and we went whizzing by.
Mile 100 was run on the Southern New England Trunkline Trail and is a well groomed fire road. We were absolutely flying at this point. My watch beeped and read 8:48; one of my fastest miles of the whole race.
We ran straight through the final aid station signaling 3.7 to go and then before we know it, we are on technical terrain again. As we hit a small hill, Doug stops to walk and I go zooming by. If I stop now I am not sure I will be able to get going again.
During the final section of the course, we hit MA / CT / RI border and I put my right foot in CT and left in RI. I have now run in 4 states during the race. 1 mile to go.
As we turn the final corner, Amy and Neil are waiting for us and join us into the finish.
I'm exhausted and sore, but full of adrenaline. After hitting that dark place earlier in the morning, I feel totally vindicated. I'm the 2nd finisher (behind Mike), but I started later then the he did, so I am currently sitting in first overall waiting to see if others can clip me. Over an hour later two other 100 mile runners, Michael Dulong, and the eventual winner Jonathan McInerney, come through (winning time 23:27:02). I ended up in 3rd. All and I am super happy with my result. It was one hell of a ride.
What I learned
- Scot
 |
| My right forearm |
Back in May I ran the virtual Brave Like Gabe 5K and my bib packet came with a "Running on Hope" temporary tattoo. I decided I would save it for a time that I knew I would need a little bit extra motivation to continue on. In the months since Gabe's passing, I have been following her husband Justin and am inspired by how he is pushing their foundation forward.
So Saturday morning, I got up, and I put that temporary tattoo on my forearm and decided this was going to be the day I would be "Running on Hope."
Running for so many of us is personal. For me, it definitely makes me feel alive, but it is so much more then that. It is tough to describe to the non-runner, specially when you talk about doing something crazy like running 100 miles. Most people they can't comprehend this. But, do they really need to?
As I sat in my kitchen drinking my coffee I opened Facebook and saw that Eluid Kipchoge had just broken 2 hours in the marathon with the quote saying “I don’t know where the limits are, but I would like to go there.” Now this is something I can barely comprehend.
About 2 hours later, Doug and I pulled into Wind Blown Ski area in New Ipswich, NH. It was almost go time. I just had to hold it together for the first technical and hilly 30 miles to get to Wachusett, climb the mountain, and then it would be smooth sailing from there. Right? At least that is what I kept telling myself.
Part of the lore of long distance trail running is the unknown. You really don't know what the course will bring, how your body will hold up, or what can and will go wrong. It is a challenge within a challenge.
As we killed the final hour before the race we chatted with some fellow runners. The mood was pretty chill, which was definitely helping. First there was Jeff and Samantha. This was Jeff's first 100 and I had run the Boston Double with Samantha back in June. Then there was Bill. Right after I told one of my favorite racing stories. The time back in 2014 when I passed a runner at the final aid station in the TARC Spring Classic to take over 3rd place and he dropped his drink to try and catch me, he shows up and calls me out on the incident. All I could do was laugh.
Note: All below miles are aligned to my GPS and differ slightly from the official course due to missed turns. I logged the 103.72 miles.
 |
| The Start |
I always like to start fast in ultras. I feel it gives me a sense of my environment and what is going on. I generally drop back to a sustainable pace after a mile or 2. I ran the first mile in 8:41 before slowing down to 12-14 over the next few.
The first 7 miles were on the Wapack trail. I have run through here a couple of times and was familiar with the terrain. I crossed over Barret Mtn, New Ipswich Mtn, Stony Top, and Pratt. I felt like I was floating softly over the terrain and even stopped for a quick pic. It was wet out, but not raining. I was feeling very positive and almost in a zen state.
 |
| Stony Top Mtn, Wapack Trail |
Around mile 7 is where we crossed into Massachusetts and picked up the Midstate trail. This is where I caught my first runner from the 8:30 wave. He seemed to be having some trouble navigating. Then as I passed by the split that went up to Watatic, a few more runners were coming back at me. The route wasn't marked in this section, but I had looked at the maps and knew we weren't going over the peak. I ran with them through the Watatic parking lot and to the aid station on Old Pierce Rd before taking off on my own.
Throughout the race one of the biggest challenges was the navigation. The route was really only marked at the road sections. Otherwise you were supposed to just follow the blazed Midstate signs. The problem is, they aren't always optimally placed. As a backup I had an app (RaceJoy) running on my phone that would tell me if I was more then 100 yards off route (and apparently alert anyone following me using the app). It was good as a back up. I was already eager to get to the 50 mile part and turn all my navigation responsibility over to Doug, my pacer for the second half.
After simply chugging along for the next 3-4 miles, I got on route 101, the first of the re-routes to avoid private land. This was a welcome change and I was able to run 8:40 pace for the next few miles and really stretch my legs out.
At mile 24, I crossed RT 2, still one of my favorite parts of the course. Not quite sure why, but driving under the course so many times just makes me realize how much I love to run on trails and how I would rather be doing that most of the time. Just after the crossing was the aid station. I was averaging 11:30, a bit faster then I planned (I had estimated 12-13), but feeling really good. After a quick snack, some Coke, and a chat with Doug and Samantha I moved on. I had caught a few more runners. I knew then next 8 miles would be the hardest of the course.
After I short re-route, we took an access trail back up (literally straight up, it was 15+% grade) to the Midstate. The section between Leominster State Forest and Wachusett Mtn is the gnarliest of the trail. I've run this section twice before, first at the North Face MA 50 miler in June 2018 and then again this summer. Once I got on the ridge, I was greeted with wet leaves. This only made it more difficult. For the first time in the race, I looked down at the "Running on Hope" tattoo on my right forearm and said to myself, "You can do this."
After fighting through a series of 13-16 minute miles, I finally made it to Wachusett. I was first greeted by Bill (see the 2014 throw down above) and then saw Amy and Neil for the first time. I laughed as Neil ran around the parking lot with 3 balloons, a 1, 0, and 0 tied to his boots (Shout out to Lisa for getting us the balloons). Amy made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I took off up Wachusett. Just a short 2 mile climb and then the course was easy from there right?
 |
| Top of Wachusett Mtn |
The climb wasn't too bad, but the descent down the back was pretty rocky. Energy wise I was still feeling well, but my quads were already starting to get sore. Luckily, miles 35-39 where that reprieve I was looking for and I was able to hold to 10ish pace before getting back on the trail.
At this point I was running second overall. Now keep in mind this was a staged start so that didn't really mean anything, but it would be nice to track down the leader. As I left the aid station, I could see him up in the distance. Then all of a sudden he stopped and put his headlamp on. Was it really that late already? I didn't even have my head lamp with me. I need to get to mile 48 to get it.
By mile 46 it was getting dark and being under dense tree cover it was getting dark quicker than I expected. After a near fall, I knew I had to go to my backup plan. I pulled out my cell phone, now down to 18% battery and turned on the flashlight. A little discouraged by the situation, I looked at my forearm again and said "You can do this."
After about 2 miles of slogging through the woods praying for the next aid station to be around every corner I caught up to the runner in front of me, Mike. Now dark the trail was even harder to follow. After little bit of some routing finding mishaps (apparently nearly everyone had trouble navigating here) we finally found the aid station, Barre Falls. As we crossed by the water we both said, "I bet this is beautiful in the daylight."
While stopped at the aid station I see Chris, from Mass Ultra. Then a few second later, I see he has tagged me in Facebook post. Jokingly, I say "Mass Ultra has tagged you in a post." Chris says "Sorry" and I respond with "I didn't read it. It probably says some moron just came out of the woods using his cell phone as a head lamp." Chris responds with "Been there, done that. And the post will still be there when you get home." I just laugh.
 |
| Pacer Doug, and Crew Chief Neil |
At 9:03pm, I arrived at the Rutland boat launch aid station, mile 54, where I was allowed to pick up my pacer. After a change of clothes, and a pic with Neil and Doug, we took off. As were heading out of the parking lot Amy came running over with my headlamp. I just laughed. I hadn't even gone 10 yards yet and I had already turned my brain off and put all my faith in Doug to lead me to the finish.
The next 14 miles were a total bear. First, we got lost in the Ware River Watershed and then at a farm somewhere. The while the trail wasn't that hilly, there was an abundance of rocks and roots that just
made it impossible to find a groove.
 |
| Midstate Half Point - Course Mile 57 |
Finally, at mile 69 we were on the roads again. I was never so happy to be out of the woods. Minus a few road crossings, miles 39 - 68 were entirely trail. While this is good for a trail race, doing it in the dark after a long day was a huge mental challenge.
Mile 69 - 72 were simply awesome. My legs hurt like hell, but I was running again. I was even keeping my pace below 12 minute miles.
There is something about running through towns in the middle of the night that I really enjoy. Maybe it is just the calmness of knowing that you are in an inhabited area, but at this moment it mind as well be uninhabited. During my runs up to and in Gloucester for the Coast to NF events we found this as well. It was around 1am at this time and simply put, just peaceful.
Mile 75 was a short trail section, but already hurting it took even more out of me. My headlamp had moved from super bright mode (which I get for 5 hours) to dim mode (which I get for another 5) making navigation more difficult. My right shoe became untied and when I bent down to tie it and I simply couldn't reach. Doug came running over and goes "I got it." All I could think was "Man did I find the right pacer."
During a quick stop at the mile 78 aid station a 50 miler is asking what the process for dropping is. I looked at him and half jokingly said, "You aren't allowed to." As he limped out I felt a little bit bad. I was happy to see later that he had finished the race.
Shortly, we entered the woods again. It was after 4am and had gotten a bit chillier out. Our pace had slowed to a crawl. Doug tells me he is proud of me, that we are doing great and have come really far. I snap back, "Just don't get us F'ing get us lost." I have always heard about people being mean to their pacers as the race wears on them, but this was the first time I really started to take it out on him. For that I am sorry. Luckily, to break the mood, we see a possum up ahead on the trail. Doug shines his light on the possum and it doesn't move. So we start chasing him and he scampers down the trail. After about 30 yards Doug looks back to me and says "Am I hallucinating? Do you see him?" Laughing I respond with yes he is real and then just like that he (the possum not Doug) disappears into the woods.
The next few miles after that were brutal. I was freezing, I couldn't keep my eyes open, and I was tripping over every rock. After a 24 and 25 minute mile my mind finally went to a dark place. What was I doing out here? What was I trying to prove? Did any of this really make any sense? The thought of quitting had come into my mind. I've run over 2600 miles and climbed over 170,000' so far this year. How could I possible feel so bad?
Luckily for mile 85, we were back on the road. I had one goal in mind. Get to the aid station and curl up in a sleeping bag in my van. If I felt better in an hour so, get going again. Otherwise call it.
 |
| My Van, Worth Every Penny |
After a quick bowl of oatmeal, Doug (Who had wrapped up and slept in a sleeping bag in a camping chair, also thanks to Amy) and I hit the road again. It truly felt like it was a new day. The sun had risen (Note: I have completed two 100 milers now and missed the sunrise on both).
We were running again almost immediately. I knocked out miles 87 and 88 at 10:38 and 10:41 respectively. I felt like we were flying. All Doug could say was "I can't believe you got up. I thought you were done."
 |
| A New Day |
Mile 97 brought us to the second to last aid station. As we entered, Doug asked how far ahead the next 100 mile runner was. The volunteer said "She passed through looking beat about 20 minutes ago." Doug said "Lets go take her down." I looked at the tattoo my forearm for the final time and said "Lets do this."
The next 3 miles were a blur. I had dropped completely into the zone and had laser focus as I hopped from rock to rock. Just after mile 99 we saw her up in the distance. Doug looks at me an says "Pass with authority" and we went whizzing by.
Mile 100 was run on the Southern New England Trunkline Trail and is a well groomed fire road. We were absolutely flying at this point. My watch beeped and read 8:48; one of my fastest miles of the whole race.
We ran straight through the final aid station signaling 3.7 to go and then before we know it, we are on technical terrain again. As we hit a small hill, Doug stops to walk and I go zooming by. If I stop now I am not sure I will be able to get going again.During the final section of the course, we hit MA / CT / RI border and I put my right foot in CT and left in RI. I have now run in 4 states during the race. 1 mile to go.
 |
| The Finish |
I'm exhausted and sore, but full of adrenaline. After hitting that dark place earlier in the morning, I feel totally vindicated. I'm the 2nd finisher (behind Mike), but I started later then the he did, so I am currently sitting in first overall waiting to see if others can clip me. Over an hour later two other 100 mile runners, Michael Dulong, and the eventual winner Jonathan McInerney, come through (winning time 23:27:02). I ended up in 3rd. All and I am super happy with my result. It was one hell of a ride.
What I learned
- I need to figure out how to condition my quads better. They hurt from mile 30 on and were definitely my biggest limiter.
- I need to figure out how to deal with sleep deprivation better. Thinking back to my college days, I never quite could pull an all nighter studying. I would always crash around 5am. There has to be some trick.
- I need to get better with my equipment and gear. Taking off without a head lamp was pretty dumb. Not having enough clothes with me was even worse. I need better battery backups as well. I should have had the course on my watch as well.
- A short nap can really change the mood. I felt like a new person on a new day after that. Glad I didn't throw the towel in before that.
- A good pacer and a good crew are absolutely key to success. Without Doug and Amy, I would probably still be wondering around the woods somewhere.
- Longest run ever
- By mileage (103.72) - 3.5 longer than Hennepin 100
- By time (24:54:13) - 6:25:53 longer than Hennepin 100
- Slowest mile ever (1:19:14) - I know it included a nap.
- 3 pairs of shoes / socks
- 12 cups of Coke
- 3 dill pickles
- 3 avocado sandwiches
- 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
- 7 liters of water
- 9 bathroom break
- $103.72 in honor of Gabe Grunewald donated to the Brave Like Gabe Foundation (and submitted for a corporate match)
- Scot
Comments
You are amazing and an inspiration!
Though you have heard this many times - I am very proud to know you and of you. :)