Soup, salt potatoes, & a tiki bar
Part 8 of the JFK 50 mile adventure.
Happy 2025! It’s great to be back in your inbox (I hope you feel the same way).
We continue the 50-mile adventure—almost to the finish!
If you need a refresher we left off here:
My heart soared— 8.4 miles to go and I wasn’t alone. Three runners were just ahead of me making their way uphill.
At the bottom of the hill, a man sat in his driveway with a small table in front of him. This must be the man who handed out soup.
I heard about him from Billy of Cloudsplitter Coffee.
“He hands out soup every year at the race. It’s the perfect temperature and so good. I look forward to the soup every year.”
He told me his name was Jim. There’s that name again.
I slowed down and caught his eye. He called out. “Soup.”
I moved closer, “Yes please.”
He removed the cloth covering the container of soup and poured some into a cup. He handed me the warm cup and replied, “Good luck with the rest of the race.”
“Thank you so much, Jim.”
I sipped the broth as I attempted to run. I didn’t want to lose the runners ahead of me. I hadn’t quite perfected this skill. Broth jumped up onto my upper lip and into my nose. I laughed to myself as I slowed down to drink the rest. I tossed the cup near a garbage bag and then shook out my arms.
I leaned forward, pumped my arms, and shortened my stride as I made my climb. I was determined to run hard these next 8 miles. I didn’t bother looking at my watch. My focus returned to the runners ahead of me and the views.
Wide open fields, rolling hills, and a bright blue sky. What a beautiful day to run. I smiled. My legs took on the uphills with strength and power. I was grateful for my energy. Thank you body.
My mind was determined to run hard. Give it all you got.
Another female runner came into view. There’s number 100— go get her.
I narrowed my eyes on her blue shirt and managed to catch up to her. We ran together and chatted admiring the country roads.
She looked to her right, “Wow look at that yellow house.”
My eyes were struck with an enormous bright yellow home.
“Wow, gorgeous. What a beautiful run we have.”
She nodded. “Have you run this race before?”
“No, this is my first time and first 50 miler. How about you?”
“This is my first JFK, I ran a 100K last weekend.”
“Wow! You’re amazing.”
Her enthusiastic smile lit up as she shared her passion for ultrarunning and trail racing. We connected over raising children and our hopes to inspire their love for movement and nature's adventures.
Our footsteps synchronized as we pushed through mile forty-three together. At the sight of grass skirts and colorful leis, we burst into laughter. The tiki-themed aid station erupted in cheers, fueling our spirits. Gratitude washed over me— these volunteers had transformed an ordinary pit stop into an unforgettable oasis.
Several runners gathered with us as we grabbed hydration and food. One volunteer shouted out, “We have boiled potatoes, it will help your stomach!”
My ears perked up. I headed his way and nodded. “I’ll take some.”
“Would you like salt on top?”
“Yes please.”
I’m from Syracuse, NY, I love salt potatoes.
He sprinkled salt on top before handing me the paper cup.
“Thank you.” I grinned as I peered into the cup—tiny cubed boiled potatoes—genius! How generous. I couldn’t believe the thought and care that went into each aid station.
I savored the salty snack, tossed the empty cup, and rallied the female runners with an energetic clap.
“Let's go ladies!”
TBC…..
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Onward!
Jules, Happy New Year
The "Ultra" is your distance
"Yes, please" is pure Jules‼️
I want some potatoes now.
That's amazing that you can still run after so many miles...