Imagine sleeping in your car, waking up at 5 a.m., devouring a bagel with cream cheese and running a race that surpasses the equivalent of three standard marathons combined -- and still not reaching your goal.

If you can't imagine it, your name probably isn't Morgan Windram.

You probably don't run 100 miles per week, 40-50 miles on the weekend, and devote your life to something that means the world to you, yet few people know about.

Windram does.

Windram (senior-geography) is one of 200 experienced runners who braved Umstead State Park in Raleigh, N.C., for the 10th annual Umstead 100-Mile Endurance Run.

Windram has been down the 100-mile road before, coming up just short in a Massachusetts race.

That performance, which was her best, totaled 90 miles and took 18 hours.

Windram loves to run and knows the layout of a course before she attacks it. This one totals 8,000 feet in total climb.

"I'm ready," Windram says to herself before a race.

And then the runners take off, and don't finish for a long time.

Contestants have 30 hours to cross the finish line. The first 20 miles is smooth sailing for Windram.

"Feeling good," she says to herself. "Gonna finish."

Windram is a two-time champion of the Tussey Mountainback 50-Mile Relay and Ultramarathon.

Twenty miles is like a short walk for Windram.

The course loops every 10 miles and Windram begins to see the same faces of fans watching as the runners continue on.

The "endurance" race gets harder, but still manageable.

Windram is at 40 miles.

She is allowed assistance from her boyfriend, who ran with her for a total of 10 miles.

She's given M&M's and snicker bars to provide energy, if any energy can be found from within her.

Fifty miles down.

"Getting sore. ... Still gonna finish."

Morgan gives herself a pep talk.

The race would be over at the Tussey Mountainback, but this is Umstead State Park. Runners begin to fall out at almost every turn. Windram isn't deterred.

Morgan runs into a friend with whom she ran in a Delaware marathon.

The friend passes and doesn't meet up with Morgan again.

Morgan begins to drop pace at about 70 miles.

She has reached 90 miles before and knows she can at least get back to that point.

Her body starts to disagree with her mind. While barely walking, Morgan doesn't want to quit, but it's dark out.

Hallucinations start to creep into her mind.

She sees stray cats and then an inviting park bench.

She thinks she can sit on the bench for a bit, only to find out it isn't really there.

So she keeps going.

Windram, who has been running since high school, was inspired by her 61-year-old godmother. Oh yeah, her godmother also remains a part of a running club.

Morgan has her reasons for not running cross-country at Penn State.

"They don't run long enough for me."

Seventy-five miles.

Windram is helped along by her boyfriend. Exhausted would be an understatement and Windram is consulted to quit.

Barely standing up, Windram finishes at 80 miles, having run for 16 hours.

It's now 9 p.m.

Morgan knows she could have done better, she has done better. It must have been something else.

"It beats up your mind and your legs," Windram said. "It's all in your mind."

So she'll come back home, rest for a bit. Then she'll hit the road again, running even more to strengthen that mind and those legs. She'll run those 100 miles, and she won't care if no one knows it.