Cascade Crest was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I’ve ever done. This was my second 100 miler, but I feel like I learned basically nothing from the first, besides knowing that I could cover the distance. This one was problem solving, and grit. My heat mitigation strategy? Virtually didn’t exist. I thought I had my electrolytes figured out. False. I started cramping about 15 miles in. At Pine to Palm I ate nothing besides gels. No solid food. This time I sipped some broth, ate probably half a watermelon, and ate the famous potato soup (with bacon strips in it at the end, ifkyk) which saved my freaking life. Almost everything was different about this race. 
During the first big climb of the day I knew exactly why Cascade is a Hardrock qualifier. Everything was harder. It was hot, it was steep, it was rocky and technical. 
It was exactly what I needed. I true and utterly humbling experience. 

I’m not going to say I never thought about dropping. At 25 miles, when I threw up everything that I put into my body, I doubted my ability to gut this one out. However, the thought of dropping out was like a windblown seed. Blowing onto the scene, never to take root. To be blown away by another stronger wind. I knew after leaving Tacoma Pass that when I eventually finish this race, I’m going to be so fucking proud of myself. 
And I am. I learned a lot about how much I could actually take, and am yet to find the limit, although at times I thought I crossed the line.
 However, this is not something I could have done alone. I had around me a group that was as compassionate as they were competent. @ryan.w.keeling was the most supportive dude I could have asked for. Basically making me let him help me, filling bottles, grabbing soup for me while I whined and whined and laid down on gravel roads, asking him to cut off my legs. @agustindotsanchez, so patient and kind while I moaned and groaned up the needles, interrupting my cries to make me laugh a hundred times. (continued in comments 🙄)