This past weekend, I tackled race #2 of the *Iron Will Grand Slam Challenge*—the *Iron Will Backroads 100 Miler*. The Grand Slam is a challenge to complete four 100-mile ultramarathons between April and September and test your limits.

I ran the first race, *Earth Day Bucklemania*, just 20 days earlier. I ran it slow on purpose to protect my body for this one, and surprisingly, that strategy paid off. Recovery was faster than I expected, and heading into Backroads, I actually felt… decent. A few aches in the knee and calf, but nothing that screamed “bad idea.” (or so I thought). I was rested, focused, and as ready as you can be for something that no sane person should willingly sign up for.

The Backroads course is a 7.7-mile loop that we run 13 times. Each loop starts with 2.7 miles of scenic gravel—shaded by trees, flanked by water, and full of the quiet beauty you only find out in the Kansas countryside. Then it shifts to five miles of punishing asphalt to round things out. The scenery didn’t change, but our bodies sure did.

One highlight of every lap was passing the second-largest American flag in the state of Kansas. Out in the absolute middle of nowhere, this massive flag waved like a beacon of freedom—or maybe just a taunt reminding us how far we still had to go. Either way, it made an impression.

My pacing strategy broke the run into thirds: miles 1–30, 31–60, and 61–100. The first 30 were steady and controlled. Weather was perfect in the morning—low 50s and sunny. I moved well early and shifted to a slower pace at mile 30 as planned. At this point, I was 2 hours ahead of schedule. But by mile 45, I started to feel that familiar right leg pain from Bucklemania creeping back in. I also realized I forgot sunscreen and was already getting roasted. But I shrugged it off—sunburns I can handle. I’ve had worse. And compared to what was coming, it would be the least of my problems.

Amber McVicar joined me around then as my first pacer, and despite the pain, we made good progress. As the pain continued, I planned to slow my pace on #8.

Kate Anthony paced me on loop eight, and we kept the pace consistent. But by the end of that loop, I knew a faster finish wasn’t happening. The pain was intensifying, and any running beyond a certain pace felt like stabbing my leg with every step. So, I pivoted to survival mode.

I originally hoped for a finish between 28 and 30 hours, but with the slower pace and pain management, I quickly revised that to 32–34 hours. That meant more time on feet while sleep deprived.

Matt Anthony joined me for loop nine, and we transitioned into a solid power-hike. To keep going, I had to tweak my stride and cadence to manage the pain. With 38.5 miles still ahead, I knew I’d be constantly assessing and adjusting every step. Slower, but sustainable. The pain was tolerable at that pace, and we kept moving forward.

Loop ten began in the middle of the night—I picked up Ashley Nichole as my pacer. We moved slowly, but I always enjoy long overnight miles with her. There’s something special about being deep into the night, sore, exhausted, a little loopy… with good conversation while moving forward.

For loops 11 through 13, I was joined by Kevin Johnston as the sun began to rise. Kevin also paced me for 40+ miles at Bucklemania, so we’ve logged quite a few ultra miles together recently. Unfortunately for him, most of those have been with “Grumpy Matt”—the version of me that shows up late in a 100-mile race when everything hurts and patience is in short supply. But Kevin’s unshakable, and we pushed through together.

That second sunrise brought new heat, new exhaustion, and a whole new level of difficulty. While Saturday’s heat had been manageable, by Sunday, the 80+ degree temps combined with nearly two days of movement started to wear me down. The fatigue made the sun feel heavier, more oppressive.

There was one stretch in particular—2.5 miles heading east into the wind—that felt like walking into a giant hair dryer. It was dry, relentless, and demoralizing. But we kept going. Loop after loop, step after step. The wind was so intense that my Apple Watch kept warning me: “Loud Environment. Sound levels hit 30 decibels.” Pretty sure it thought I was standing next to a jet engine.

Eventually, after 13 loops, more than 33 hours, and who knows how many calories later, I crossed the finish line.

It wasn’t the time I wanted. It wasn’t pretty. But I finished.

Of the ten runners who signed up for the Iron Will Grand Slam Challenge, only *two* of us have finished both of the first two races—100-mile events just 20 days apart. I have no idea how I became one of those two, but I’m grateful beyond words to still be standing… or limping… or crawling forward.

Next up: The Honey Badger 100 in mid-July. It’s all on asphalt, and the heat will be absolutely miserable. So my mission is clear: get this knee and calf back to working order, and keep the momentum going.

Huge thank you to my crew and pacers who kept me upright and moving: Rachel Magnuson, Matt Anthony, Kate Anthony, Amber McVicker, Ashley Nicole, and Kevin Johnston. I couldn’t have done this without you.

Big thanks to the race directors, William Sprouse and Carrie Sprouse, for putting on an incredible event—and to all the volunteers and runners who made it a fun (and painful) weekend of suffering.

See you in July, Honey Badger. Let’s get weird.