Unlike his friend Sean, it had been a good week for Miles. After the Misfits had completed their World First, he had logged out and contemplated their win. His hands shook with the excitement and adrenaline that had rushed through his system. Afterwards he lay awake unable to sleep just viewing their game play over in his mind.

At his eleventh race of the season, his hands weren’t shaking now. However, he did have some butterflies in his stomach. Some of it was nerves but most of it was excitement. Ever since he had been laid off two years ago from Terrazon, Miles had been pursuing a new dream. He didn't have the connections that Sean's wife did. But what he did have was a certain amount of athletic ability and a lot of determination. It was the combination of these things that put him on a mountainous trail at the beginning of the hundred-mile run today.

He’d been training for Western States pretty much since he'd completed his first marathon with the intention of going pro. While not quite as high-paying and prestigious as the jobs of old, there was still money to be made from being an athlete. Additionally, if one could place at the podium there was a good chance of gaining sponsorship. Of course only a few select runners would even make the qualifiers that allowed him to enter this race and even fewer still would have any shot at the podium. The long odds didn't give Miles much pause. He had grown up with long odds at every turn.

Miles was a black man born in Detroit to a single mom and a broken family. His father had never been part of his life. Miles’ youth was one with a lot of anger and occasionally he still channeled that anger when he needed to. He could have easily gone down the road of slipping into drugs and dealing – the only options most young black men had in Detroit. However, he had found a role model in his older brother Eric.

When Miles was still young, his brother decided that the family needed another way out. He would go on to become one of the few successful entrepreneurs who was able to make their way against the oligarchs of the five biggest mega corporations. His brother’s rise up gave Miles the encouragement he needed to pursue a different path and he went back to school and got his degree in computer programming while his brother made millions. Sadly, his success didn’t last as the large firms recognized him as a threat and put him out of business.

Still, his brother’s courage kept Miles on track and he finished school and began to work at Terrazon. It was also his brother’s tenacity that kept Miles going now. His brother was still trying to come back and build another company. That was the sign to Miles that he shouldn’t take the layoff lying down, but rather he should forge a new path for himself. Miles started on that new path now with the beginning of this renowned race. While he’d made some money already from previous races this year, getting to the podium here would assure him a solid sponsorship and the income to help his family.

Miles had one fairly decent qualifier and he was right near the front of the pack as the starting gun went off. After that, the first several miles went easily but he was careful to pace himself at the beginning of the race. After all, this was one of the longer ultra-marathons and he needed to be prepared to run for at least 15 to 16 hours. This was not so much a race about speed, but much like the game they played in, there was a necessary strategy and tactics that needed to be used in order to be successful.

While he was running he thought about the Misfits and their recent world first. It was difficult to believe that only two years ago they had just met and were leveling up together. Miles still remembered the first time he put that crazy suggestion out there to Sean to three-man dungeons with no healer. He really had just been joking; however, Sean had been fired up with the boldness of it. It had given his friend some purpose and Miles was definitely grateful for that.

However, Sean was at a crossroads now and would have to make some new life decisions. Yesterday, he'd called Miles and asked if he could stay a few days so he could get his feet under him. Julie had kicked him out of the house and had filed the divorce papers the same day. Miles didn't know Julie too well since they were just acquaintances. But he knew enough to know that she was trouble. Miles hadn’t wanted to tell his friend that there was something off about her and now it was too late. Growing up in the hood, Miles appreciated a family first mentality and he knew B.S. when he saw it. Julie was a gold digger, clear as day. She was not the type of person who appreciated Sean or treated him like family.

Miles loped through the first 16 miles, quickly making his way through the high country, and decided to do a quick refill at the aid station. He didn’t come to a full stop but simply grabbed a couple of waters and a packet of energy gel. So far he didn't have any aches or pains and he was thankful for that. For his qualifying race, he'd failed to taper significantly beforehand and had felt like hell during the first 20 miles. Eventually he been able to push through and find a good second wind but the first stretch had taken a lot more out of him than it ought to have. Just like the strategy that they had employed on Cermillion, Miles went easy at the start. The intent to go harder in the later phases of the race when the pressure was on and things were more difficult. It was also key not to make any huge mistakes or tap into unneeded resources at this stage since undoubtedly those resources would be needed later on.

Western States was run during the middle of the summer and things started heating up around mile 23. By mile 43, Miles had sweated through his clothing and he slowed down as they climbed Devil’s Thumb. Miles continued musing about what the Misfits would take on next as he blazed through the technical reaches of the canyons.

By the time he reached mile 55 at Michigan Bluff, Miles was focused on staying hydrated in the 90+ heat. So far he had continued to make solid time, even with the technical areas and was on pace to complete in fifteen and a half hours, right with the other top race participants. Racers were allowed a pacer starting at mile 60, and he was joined by one of his good running buddies who he’d raced the Wasatch Front 100 with. Miles was itching to really accelerate at this point but he knew he still needed to maintain his hydration before he could push the pace. He’d already instructed his pacer, James, to make sure he didn’t try to push this section. Miles slowed down a bit more than he’d anticipated through the next stretch of twenty miles as he focused on recovery and getting to the river at mile 78. This was tough to do psychologically but he knew it was the right strategy.

By this time of day the heat was at its worst. It was late afternoon and once they reached the river, Miles appreciated crossing as it quickly chilled his body. Miles picked up his second pacer right after the river and he continued the push on, now trying to regain ground as they approached the last 20 miles.

By mile 90, Miles had pushed a little too hard and projectile vomited, losing some of his critical water. He had started seeing things a few miles ago and if not for his pacer would have wondered off trail. Small elementals chased him through the underbrush as he relived moments from the last few days where the Misfits had spent untold hours grinding on Cermillion’s first two phases.

Fortunately, by No Hand’s Bridge he’d caught a fourth (or was it fifth) wind and he was able to pound out the last few miles. Currently he was in fourth but if he could just pick up the pace he could have a shot at the podium. In the last climb to Robie Point at mile 98.9 he caught up to the third place runner who was slowing down. When he saw Miles he pushed back and the two sprinted in a dead heat right to the finish line. The track at Placer High came into view and Miles thought of all those times where he and his family had gone hungry. There was no way he was going to stop now. At the very last eighths of a mile he surged forward as the other runner gave ground and Miles blasted through the finish line.

Miles Trent – 3rd place at 15:48:59.

Achievement unlocked for sure. He couldn’t wait to tell his mamma, his brother, and the guild.