Tuna Can. Elvis Duck. 100 Kilometers in Tennessee

The Pistol, Alcoa, TN

I wrote a sprawling, meticulous recap of my first 100K race at The Pistol in Alcoa and Maryville, Tennessee. It included everything—every snack I ate, every shift in my pace, every stray thought I had about the course, the weather, and the meaning of life around mile 40.

And then I deleted the whole thing.

Because let’s be honest: nobody but me cares about my fluctuating salt intake or what my pace looked like at 3 a.m. (spoiler: not good).

Instead, let me set the scene and give you the only part that matters.

The Scene

The Pistol is a race with options. You can run a half marathon, a full, a 50K, a 50-miler, a 100K, or, if you really hate sleep, a full 100 miles. It all takes place on a 10-ish mile loop of paved Greenway in Alcoa and Maryville, named for Pistol Creek, which meanders alongside. The loop format means 50K runners (31 miles) do it three times, while us 100K runners had the joy of doing it six times. Six.

A group of five of us tackled the race together. Two ran the 50K. Three of us walked the 100K. Yes, walked. There was some running, but I have zero shame in saying this was a long, long walk.

Photo: Running? Not really. Happy? Absolutely.

The Takeaway

A gym I used to go to had a sign in the group fitness room that read:
“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

I thought about that a lot over those 62 miles.

Though we started together, we naturally split up in the first half of the race. But in the second half, my two 100K friends and I found each other again, along with another new friend we “adopted” on the course.

We walked. We talked. We laughed.

We experienced the surreal, because everything gets weird after midnight. At some point, we saw an unopened can of tuna just…sitting on a footbridge. Why? Who knows. We encountered a duck that bore an uncanny resemblance to Elvis. We ate birthday cake in the middle of the night because, honestly, why not?

Photo: I’d love to know how many runners took a photo of the tuna can. 3 out of the 5 in our group did separately - we found out after the race when we were comparing race photos.

By 3 a.m., the world took on that strange, dreamlike quality where time felt slippery and reality bent at the edges. We knew we’d see a second sunrise before we ever got any sleep. That’s a strange feeling.

Photo: My superpower is my ability to fall asleep anywhere in no time and wake up refreshed.

And still, we laughed.

We struggled, but we kept moving.

We went far—because we went together.

There’s something about finding joy in the moment, even when the moment is absurd, or difficult, or so far beyond normal that your brain stops keeping score. It’s like unlocking a cheat code for life.

And that, more than any finish time or pace chart, is what I want to remember.

(If you didn’t read it yet, please read my post about my non-running approach to training for this event. I did indeed eff around, and I found out in all the best ways).