Why would someone want to run and push a Baby Jogger loaded with food and water 184.5 miles along a dirt road?! "That's insane!" I was told. But there I was on Sunday, October 13, 2002 at 12:00 pm in Cumberland, Maryland, at the 184.5 milepost of the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal Towpath, starting my run to the zero milepost at Georgetown in Washington, D.C. Why would someone want to run and push a Baby Jogger loaded with food and water 184.5 miles along a dirt road?! "That's insane!" I was told. But there I was on Sunday, October 13, 2002 at 12:00 pm in Cumberland, Maryland, at the 184.5 milepost of the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal Towpath, starting my run to the zero milepost at Georgetown in Washington, D.C.

I loaded the jogger with about 120 lbs. of water, food, clothing, and equipment, and I was on a mission, a quest, to see if I could run the entire distance solo, unsupported, and in one straight shot. As far as I could tell, no one had completed the distance without relying on outside support, stopping along the way, or using the water pumps provided at campsites on the trail.

I had several wonderful ultrarunning friends who agreed to monitor my progress. James and Rebecca Moore took me to the start, Michele Burr ran with me periodically, and Keith Dunn met me along to way to taunt me and tempt me to stop.

Michele ran with me that first afternoon. We arrived at the Paw Paw Tunnel as the sun set and met up with Keith. We three walked through the tunnel. At 3118' long, it is a truly unique structure. There is a thin slice of a pathway on the side of the tunnel. Around the entrances on both ends, there are stairs and indications of how much sweat and blood went into making it. On the eastern end of the tunnel, Keith and Michele left me on my own for the overnight.

It was long night, but peaceful, with the quiet broken every once in awhile by the "per-plunks" of what sounded like large animals jumping into the canal. The weather turned cold, and it had been raining so there were mud puddles along the trail. I had unanticipated problems with my flashlight in mounting it on the jogger. Then I ran out of battery power by 3:00 am. I was reluctant to use my backup light on that first night, so I ran with the light from one single LED clip-on light that was on my hat bill. It was eerie, but just enough to see that I was still on the Towpath. When I met Keith at Hancock at milepost 124, it was 5:00 am and I was freezing! I decided to change into some tights, which I wore for the rest of my run.

Mid-morning, I encountered my friend Ed Schultze running out from Dam No. 5 at milepost 106 to meet me. As we ran along, I mentioned that we had been running uphill for the past four or five miles. It sure seemed like it, but he pointed out that was not possible, and in fact we were probably going a little downhill given the flow of the water and Towpath's relative position to the Potomac. Pushing that baby jogger was sure getting hard!

After Ed left me around milepost 103, I changed socks and put Vaseline on my feet. That was the only time I changed anything with my feet, however during the entire run I was constantly taking off my shoes and dumping little rocks and sticks out of them. Apparently, my shuffle tended to kick up trail debris.

Around milepost 97, the sun was shining, it was warm, there was little breeze, and I was extremely tired. I started to hallucinate. I saw people that were not there, bicyclists who vanished, and animals that turned out to be leaves. The weirdest vision was seeing a miniature gorilla playing a tiny piano on the right side of the Towpath, and then hearing some music like "The Entertainer" from the The Sting. I was freaking out and needed to lie down for a few minutes. I took a 20- minute break, but could not sleep. However, I felt refreshed and was able to focus again.

After getting past the detour between mileposts 88 and 84, the sun set for the start of my second night. The next 26 miles was, or should have been, familiar because it was part of the JFK50 course. But I was seeing it in the nighttime, and everything looked different. Michele showed up to run with me at Taylor's Landing at milepost 81. What a pick-me-up! I was low on energy but she was bubbly and excited. When we got to Harper's Ferry, around milepost 61, I continually asked her if she was sure we were on the Towpath because nothing seemed like I remembered from my five JFK 50 mile runs. She was tolerant and assured me all was fine. I was turning into a sleepless zombie and having a hard time focusing. It did not affect my desire to go on, but it did slow me down. I would power walk or run, but then my thoughts would get fuzzy and I would slow down, eventually moving about as fast as the green, algae covered water in the canal.

Finally, nighttime passed, and when the sun arose I expected to feel refreshed, but instead my head felt like mush. Everything was fuzzy. I felt my left achilles tendon start to burn overnight and taped it with duct tape at milepost 55. I am sure it was just a placebo, but I felt somewhat better with the ankle taped. Michele ran with me to Point of Rocks at milepost 48.

When I got to milepost 42, it was 1:00 pm on Tuesday afternoon. I was wondering how fast I could run pushing a Baby Jogger after being awake so many hours. So to milepost 41 I pushed and did a 7:57 minute mile. I thought I was going to die! My next mile was 8:56, and the next was 10:32......and that was the last time I saw that sort of pace.

Ed Schultze and Bill Van Antwerp met me as I approached Riley's Lock at milepost 23. I was getting pretty delirious by that time, and it was dark. They walked with me to Swains Lock at milepost 17, where I met up with James Moore. He was there to run me into the zero milepost. It was about 11:00 pm and a steady rain was falling.

James and I shuffled on. He ran next to me on the side of the Canal to help make sure I did not fall in. I was mumbling, hallucinating, and not doing well at maintaining a straight line. My brain would just shut down, and my eyes would close. At one point, I told James he ran through a brick wall. Thankfully, not a real one. So we pushed on and got to the zero milepost at 4:31 am, after 64 hours and 31 minutes. Keith showed up in the rainstorm to witness the finish. I touched the post and ended the run. By the time I got into bed, I had been awake for over 72 hours, I had run 184.5 miles, and I had experienced all of the running adventure I could handle (at least until next time). What fun!

If there is anything to learn from my experience, it is (1) to treasure your friends because they are irreplaceable (especially at 4:30 am, when it is raining and one needs a ride home), and (2) you can truly do more and go farther than you think you can by just going out boldly and doing it.