Burning River 100 Mile Crew/Pacer 2011 Report

If for some reason you haven't read it already, you can find Bob's race report HERE.

Preface:
This was, by far, one of the best experiences I have ever had in my running life. I wish these upcoming words could adequately describe the feelings of awe and inspiration I had over the course of a mere 27 hours, but I have a feeling that they will fall short no matter how hard I try. I watched a friend push himself to the edge and keep going even when going any further seemed impossible. Tigg and I were welcomed into Bob's home and treated like family over the course of our visit. I cannot thank him, his wife, and his girls enough for their incredible hospitality and generosity. Thank you, Bob, for letting me come along on this journey. To run with you and to get to experience this was more than I ever thought it could be.

The Gang/Crew:

Bob - What's a crew without their runner? Bob is an inspiration through and through. One of the most genuine people I have had the pleasure of being friends with. He is compassionate, humble, and kind. Watching him interact with his family was just a joy. His girls are already wonderful, but I know they will grow up to be amazing and strong women with such a father. As Joanne said, the world needs more men like him.

Eddie - Just awesome. Eddie brings sunshine into a room. You can't help but to love him instantly. He is loyal, gregarious, and would help anyone in need. And yes ladies, he's even more dreamy in person.

Tigg - A friend who has been there for me through thick and thin since the day we met. He has encouraged me, pushed me, and believed in me even when I didn't believe in myself. Most of all, he puts up with me, which is quite a feat in itself. I knew he would do the same for Bob and more.

Jenny - My shoe sister! What is there to say about Jenny that hasn't already been said a thousand times over? She radiates warmth. I can see why she continues to beat that cancer -- how could anything so horrible survive on someone so positive, so full of life?

Myself - A novice ultra runner, but eager and excited to learn.

With us in spirit was Badgerfan93, who I know Bob wanted to be there, but unfortunately could not make it.



Mrs. Eddie, Mrs. Bob, Bob, Me, Jenny and Tigg the evening before.



Eddie's Samurai Jeep; our transporation for the day.

Crewing the Race:

I wrote out our entire morning, describing exactly how the crew operated through the day, but it was far too long. The gist was that we followed Bob from aid station to aid station, doing our best to get him whatever he needed in a timely fashion. Mostly we filled his pack, helped him change clothes and shoes, duct taped his feet, constantly put food in his hands, and above all else tried to cool him down during the heat of the day. He battled nausea, heat and humidity, and foot issues through the beginning of the day. One interesting crew highlight involved Bridget and I standing in a Walgreens debating whether panty hose would work to hold ice in lieu of a bandanna, which were nowhere to be found. Needless to say, we didn't buy the panty hose but instead ended up ripping up a beach towel to craft Bob a bandanna, which he would use for a good majority of the race.



Station Road Bridge Aid Station: Mile 33.3



The Crew at Station Road Bridge.



The crew in action at Station Road Bridge.



Eddie and Tigg rip up the towel after we realize that we need some sort of bandanna for Bob.



Eddie shows Jenny how a gentleman should act.



I run with Bob into Ottawa Point Aid Station (Mile 39.6)



The boys ice down Bob at Ottawa Point.



Shower curtain change at mile 49.1

Flash forward to mile 53.5, Boston Store aid station, where Bob would pick me up as his first pacer. The crew had been operating since about 9am that morning; it was about 4:30pm at this point I had to check into the aid station as a pacer and sign my life away on a waiver. As a pacer, you need to take care of yourself first so that you can be there for your runner. A dehydrated, bonking pacer isn't going to do a runner much good. I decided to carry my handheld and a gel with me. I'd also get to eat from the aid stations. I was scheduled for somewhere around 17 miles with Bob.

Bob came into this aid station looking beat down. His feet were bad and he couldn't cool off. Bridget was clearly worried about him. The men of the crew took action and broke out the duct tape again, this time for his toes. He was nauseous and I held him up from behind as his feet were getting worked on. Bob kept telling Bridget that he was okay, but she didn't believe him. I promised her that we would walk for a while and I'd make him eat as we were walking. This was a low point for everyone; Bridget was worried, Bob was feeling down, it was oppressively hot, but I was ready. Fortunately we were told that the rest of the course was shaded. I prayed that this was true, because Bob couldn't be out in the full sun for much longer. He had already ran for almost 12 hours at this point and his body was rebelling.

Pacing:

Miles 53.3 - 58.3 (heading to Pine Lane AS): Bob and I took off for Pine Lane walking down an asphalt bike bath. I kept telling him that it was okay now, that I was with him and he wouldn't be alone anymore. He was hot. His legs were doing great, but he was hot and couldn't eat enough. He was eating pretzels as we were walking. We agreed to run once the pretzels were gone and the bike path was ended. He was quiet as we were making our way. I chatted a bit, but I felt like I was forcing conversation on him, so we didn't do a lot of talking on the segment. We hit the trail and Bob started powering hiking up this switchback filled hill. He had a damn good pace for already having run for over 50 miles. I complimented him on his running and told him he was doing great anytime we ran over some roots or anything technical. I knew he wasn't feeling well and I was trying to keep him encouraged. Later on this segment he fell as we were hiking up a hill; the trail was missing a big chunk out of side and you couldn't see it because it was covered by leaves and plants. I felt horrible that he had fallen with me, but I helped him up and we came into the (non crew accessible) AS not much later.

I'm willing to bet this was one of his longest stops. I tried to get him to eat, but nothing sounded good. He ate a piece of watermelon as I got his pack filled, but I told him that wasn't enough. He went to the bathroom and when he came out, he was feeling even worse. He had a little bit of dry heaving here, but nothing came up. Despite not wanting to sit down during the race at all, we grabbed a chair in the shade and I let him plop down. A volunteer got me some ice and sponges and I tried desperately to cool him off as he sat there. I don't know how many minutes he sat there as I iced him down and told him to relax and that it would be okay. As he was sitting, he was drinking glasses of ginger ale. He also had some iced coffee and finally when I asked him again what he wanted to eat, he replied with bread. Bread! Good! I'm going to go get you some bread, Bob. Thankfully the aid station had plain bread, but I was ready to scrape off peanut butter and jelly to get him some plain bread if I had to. He ate the bread and drank more soda. After he got some calories in him, I asked him if he could stand and he did. Bob was up. We got the pack back on him and walked out of the aid station.

Miles 58.3 - 63.8 (heading to Happy Days AS): Not long after we walked out of the aid station, Bob told me that he was having some chaffing from his shirt seams. We decided to lube him up - he was carrying vasoline in his pack. I smeared a hefty layer on his back under his arms and he put his shirt back on. Unfortunately this was only a small preview of what was to come. We made our way down the trail and heard screams only a short bit ahead of us. We stopped. Another runner appeared and explained that there were hornets ahead and folks were getting stung. I think Bob and I exchanged a look of horror here; neither of us were too pleased with this information. We decided to cut around the bees and make our own trail in order not to get stung. It worked and we thankfully escaped unscathed. It was not too long after this incident that Bob started to perk up. It was getting later in the day and the woods were completely shaded. His core temperate was very slowly dropping. That along with the calories that he consumed at the aid station gave me a new Bob. He was starting to talk again and soon we were laughing and chatting away. We had to hike up a long climb in order to get to few miles of road, but he was doing great. As soon as we hit the road, he had more spring in his step than I had seen since much earlier today. We ran. We ran a lot. We were on a flat bike path and he was moving well. I'd look down at my Garmin and see a 10:XX pace. We had some great conversation through here and I was so proud to see him come out of that very low point. Best of all, he was eating. He ate some crackers and chocolate voluntarily. Success! We happily made our way to Happy Days, where we would get to see the crew for the first time in a while.

As we came into Happy Days, I could see his girls in the distance with signs. It was so great to see the crew after over 10 miles without them. Bob also had a coworker volunteering at this aid station who took good care of us. She filled his pack and Bridget got him to drink some smoothie. I'm not sure what else he ate at this aid station; I was relying on the crew to get him to eat as I was getting rocks of my shoes and trying to eat a little myself. We got about 20 feet out of the aid station before I had to turn back for our forgotten lights. Night was coming quickly and the woods were even darker.


Bob and I come into Happy Days Aid Station.


Miles 63.8 - 70.6 (heading to Pine Hollow 1 AS): We were told to get to this section by dark and we did...just barely. We had about 20 minutes of beautiful scenery that I could see in the dusk as we made our way through The Ledges. Bob told me this section was really cool and indeed it was. There were huge boulders to our right and the trail was rocky and technical. It reminded me a lot of a trail back home that I loved. We stopped briefly at a scenic overlook and took in the sunset. But we needed to keep moving. Always keep moving forward. Bob was great at his relentless forward motion. Despite his lows, he kept moving forward. Never did I hear a negative thought come from him. He thanked the volunteers. He was gracious and treated everyone well, despite how horrible he was feeling at certain times. It was wonderful to witness his ubiquitous positive attitude.

It was shortly after dark when the chafing became a big problem. A very big problem. He told me that shirt was bothering him, but he didn't have any other shirts to change into. I told him that we'd find him one. Eddie or Tigg would have a nice loose fitting tech shirt that we could switch him to after we got to the aid station. However, it wasn't long after that conversation that he told me that he was just going to take his shirt off. No problem, I told him, that's a good idea. I knew the chaffing was really bad at this point because Bridget told us earlier that Bob never runs with his shirt off. So I helped him out of his shirt and we stuffed in into his pack. His arms and back were red and raw. I slathered a bunch of body glide on him, apologizing as I was doing so, worrying that I was hurting him, and gingerly helped him put his pack back on over the chafing, but the damage was done. He didn't complain, mind you, but I know that he was in a lot of pain. Not much further down the trail, he told me he was going to pull off and lube up some, errr, other areas. I sat down on a log and waited for him. He took off the compression shorts for good and had on regular shorts again. He was chafing badly there as well, but there was nothing left to do but to lube up and just keep moving. We took off again, still running unbelievably well, thanks to Bob's strong legs.

We had been leap frogging with another pair of runners during the section. They would catch up to us when we stopped to deal with the chafing, but we would pass them once we got going. This runner's pacer was tired and was going to quit at the upcoming aid station. He told us to him let him know if we found anyone that was willing to run with him. I immediately told him that I would take him for the next section. Tigg was picking up Bob and I wasn't tired, so I was happy to help him. His name was Todd and as we passed them, I told him I would find him at the upcoming aid station after I tended to Bob and got him in good hands with our crew.

We had to climb the famed "Sound of Music" hill to get to Pine Hollow. Honestly, I completely forgot that the hills that we were climbing were "those" hills. I just knew they were tough! Bob was gutting it out at this point. He needed to eat and was hitting another low point with the chafing and the lack of calories. I was worried about leaving him, but I knew that he was in more than capable hands with Tigg. We pulled up to the aid station and the crew was there immediately. Bridget and the girls were getting tired and gave Bob some final hugs and kisses and headed off to sleep, but our work had only just begun. We had "only" 30 miles left to get Bob through at this point, but it was not going to be easy.

Miles 70.6 - 73.9 (heading to Pine Hollow 2 AS; non-Bob pacing): This was another loop that the runners needed to complete. We'd be coming right back to the aid station that we left. After I helped the crew with Bob and watched him take off down the trail with Tigg, I found my new friend Todd. He was resting in a chair with his friend and father. I told him that I was ready to go when he was. He got up out of the chair after a few minutes and we took off down the trail after Bob and Tigg.

This was a fun little section with a lot of stairs and hills. Todd was a chatty guy, so I just listened to him talk for a while. He was living in California, but was originally from Cleveland. He was also a vegetarian and a snowboarder, so we had a lot in common and plenty to talk about. We were leap frogging with a group that Bob knew (Hope and Steve), so we talked a little bit about Bob with them. They told Todd that he could hang out with them after I was done pacing him.

Toward the end of this section, Todd decided that he was going to take off without any warning. And take off he did! All of sudden we were running. And I mean running! I looked down at my Garmin and we were easily clipping off a 9 minute mile. Where did this come from and how long is he going to be able to keep it up? Up and down the undulating hills we ran. I had already come over 20 miles and this was a fast pace for me. I hoped he couldn't do this for much longer or he would drop me for sure. I started to slow behind him on a hill and I think he sensed that I was dropping back and slowed as well. All of a sudden we were walking again. I asked him where that sprint had come from. He replied that he desperately needed to get to the aid station and lube up his _______. (Use your imagination.) Looks like Bob was not the only one with chafing issues. Todd and I eventually got to the aid station and he thanked me for pacing him for that section. I told him I was happy to help and good luck and that we'd hopefully run into each other later on the course. I went to go find Bob and company and it turns out they had come into the aid station just a few minutes before us. Bob's not a GU guy, but he had switched over to gels. As long as he was getting in calories, I didn't care what he was eating. Bob didn't stick around long here, but I could see that he was still struggling with his nausea and chaffing. He and Tigg took off shortly for the next aid station.


Back to Crewing:

Mile 80.5 and 85.2 (Covered Bridge 1&2): Eddie and I had a good bit of time to kill. We loaded up the Jeep and decided to find an all night gas station as it was close to 1am at this point. After a few botched attempts, we finally found one. I changed out of my sweaty running clothes while Eddie sought to find a cheap sweatshirt. It was COLD in the Jeep and even chilly standing around in the night air. No luck at the gas station, so we went to find a sweatshirt at Walmart. On the way there, we ended up in the Taco Bell drive thru. I had just ran 21.5 miles and was hungry and I don't think the crew had much for dinner either. I bought Eddie 4 tacos and we ate dinner in the Walmart parking lot. By far the most romantic ultra running date I have been on.

Covered Bridge was a large aid station that was mildly depressing. People were huddled up in blankets by a fire, runners were coming in looking like zombies. Many sat down in chairs while their crews did the best they could. I imagine there was a large number of drops here. Bob and Tigg came though not long after we arrived. Bob was drinking Coke with salt mixed in and had some rice and broth. They had ran their last section well, but the upcoming one was a toughie. We quickly sent them off into the darkness and settled in for a long wait. I did see Todd come through this aid station shortly after Bob and yelled into the quiet night, "Yeah, Todd buddy! Go get it done!" and he was happy to see me and thanked me again. (He eventually did finish, about a half hour after Bob.) It was at this point that I made a lot of updates to Runner's World.



Covered Bridge Aid Station during the middle of the night.

Eddie changed into his running clothes, as he would be pacing Bob for the last 15 miles after he and Tigg returned. We got antsy waiting for Bob, but it was interesting to see the other runners coming in. One woman came in, took a seat, and started brushing her teeth. Eddie and I thought this was a great idea and might give Bob a lift. We rummaged through the bags and found toothpaste, but no tooth brush so we decided not to mention that idea to Bob. Finally, after what seemed to be a very long time, Bob and Tigg came back from the loop. Bob was tired, sore, chaffing like crazy, and was running on empty. I could see the look in his eyes though and I knew he was going to get it done, no matter how bad it was. Underneath the pain was fierce determination.

Mile 93 (Merriman Road): While Eddie was pacing, he had no choice but to entrust the Samurai Jeep to me and Tigg. Tigg drove while I navigated and huddled by the heater trying to get warm. We had a long wait here at Merriman Road, as Eddie and Bob were running about 8 miles and would pass through a non crew accessible aid station on their way.

Eddie and Bob came through at dawn. The sun was rising. Knowing that Bob was a coffee guy, I made him some coffee at this aid station. I think he was happy to have the coffee after being forced to eat so many other things. I believe this was also the aid station where he downed a rum and coke. He wasn't talking much now. No more idle chit-chat. No more what do you want to eat, Bob. No more filling of the pack; he had switched to handhelds a while ago. He didn't linger long here. He was a man on a mission now.

Mile 96 (Memorial Parkway): The last aid station. Eddie and Bob made excellent time getting here. I believe Bob's pace for the section was 12:40, which is blazing fast at this point in the race. Tigg and I set up at this aid station. There was no coffee here, much to my dismay, but we got him another rum and coke ready along with gels and a ginger ale. When Eddie and Bob came running into the aid station, Eddie stopped to talk for a second, but Bob just kind of looked at us and kept going. We thought that maybe he was heading for the bathroom, but no, Bob wasn't stopping! Screw the AS! Bob was finishing this thing! We all looked at each other and kind of laughed. Eddie took off after him and we yelled that we'd see them at the finish. Tigg and I were cracking up as we frantically packed up all of our stuff and got back in the Jeep and blasted toward the finish.

Mile 100.8 (FINISH): We called Bridget and told her what happened and that Bob only had 4.8 miles left to go. We may or may not have ran a red light on our way there, but we made it without getting pulled over the police. We were on a high from Bob being so close to the finish and from being up all night and were screaming and yelling at the runners on their way to the finish as we drove by them. Most had enough energy for a first pump or wave. We found Bridget and the girls as well as some of Bob's siblings. Burning River lets as many people as the runner wants to run the last mile in with them. Bridget was going to wait at the finish for Bob while the rest of us ran in the last mile with him.

Bob's brother, Tigg and I went the full mile out while the rest of the gang waited a little closer. It seemed like forever that we were waiting for Bob and Eddie to appear on the horizon. We watched other runners come down the street and I just couldn't stop smiling. It was an amazing thing to watch these runners in their last mile. Some of them were walking, others were still jogging, but all of them knew that they were going to make it. Finally, finally, we saw Bob and Eddie show up in the distance. Bob was chafed beyond belief, sunburned, exhausted, his shorts were cut up and hung like a skirt, but it was a beautiful sight. He could barely muster the energy to greet us when we approached, but he lifted up his arm to give me a silent fist bump and I said, "I am so damn proud of you."









So we joined Bob and Eddie in silence. Bob couldn't speak. He clasped his hand on his brother's arm for a moment and then we walked. We walked down the street and I felt so much pride well up inside. Soon his other brother was there walking along side us. No one spoke a word. Then his sister and his girls joined us. The girls knew without being told that it was time for silence. The only thing you could hear was feet walking and sniffles coming from the entire group. Bob held his youngest daughter's hand as we made our way down the street. My eyes were welling up with tears and I heard Eddie beside me. We walked with our arms around each other for a moment, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. I wish I could convey the emotions felt on this walk, but it's too difficult. It was the most emotional mile of my life. Better than any mile of any race that I have completed. Better than the last mile of my ultra in which I was crying with joy. I will look back on this mile many times in the future. Tigg played camera man and got some really nice pictures of everyone together. As we could see the finish line down the street Bob looked around at everyone and spoke his first word, "Ready?" And so we ran. We ran in silence and in tears and the group slowly pulled away as we approached the line and let Bob cross over with his girls and into the arms of his wife.

100.8 amazing miles that I will never, ever forget.

DWD Devil's Lake Marathon 2011 Report

Saturday, July 16, 2011
Baraboo, WI

Alternatively titled: Bitches may be crazy, but bitches stick together.

Running this marathon was not in my plans. I had run the half last year and with evening plans on race day this year, I figured I would take it easy and run the half again. Of course nothing ever goes according to plan. I found out that Katie was coming all the way from Michigan to run the 50K and Deana would be coming down for the half marathon from further North in Wisconsin. Needless to say, it didn't take long for Deana and I to be talked into switching to the marathon so we could run with Katie. Logistically, it worked perfectly. The 50K started an hour earlier than the full and did a 5 mile loop and then followed the marathon course from the start/finish area. Deana and I decided that we would wait for Katie to come through and then we'd all run together for the duration of the race.

I easily found Deana race morning and we slathered on ivy block that I had hastily purchased the night before after some warnings from previous years runners. (Turns out that it wasn't really needed, but at least we were prepared!) We lined up at 6:30am for the marathon start and were the only ones that walked out of the gate. We walked maybe about a 100 feet up to the aid station and parked ourselves and waited for Scrap as the rest of the marathon pack took off for the singletrack. Clearly we weren't in any sort of hurry.

We chatted while watching runners come through and keeping our eyes peeled for Katie. After around 13 minutes, she came into the AS and recognized us as she started waving from a ways away. The turtle trio was now together in person for the first time! Bitches be crazy!

We took off for the singletrack together in our little trio. After a few miles, we discovered it would be best for Katie to lead. I took the middle position and Deana brought up the rear. This worked well for the entire race as Katie was running farther than us and we decided that we would just follow her lead and walk when she needed to walk and run when she felt like running. I had absolutely no goals for this race other than to use it as a training run and enjoy the company of these two wonderful ladies. Oh, and I guess complete my first official marathon or something like that.

This race is a beast. Devil's Lake is surrounded by beautiful bluffs that we went up and down a few different times. The course also took us on awesome singletrack trails, a gravel road, some off trail sections (watch for those pink ribbons!) and some muddy, mucky, messy snowmobile trails (which would have been a lot worse if we'd had any sort of rain recently.) We found out it had the most elevation change of all the DWD races. As the local, I attempted to be helpful with information and would tell the other two, "We're almost to the top now" and, "This bluff is longer to climb, but not quite as steep as the other one." According to Katie, I provided false advertising. I think she was ready to smack me after one of the, "We're almost to the top now," later in the race. Sorry, dear!

I think we were all very well suited to run together. But I have to say that Katie has a mean power walk/hike. That woman can book it. I think Deana and I both were jogging at her walking pace for a while. Poor Katie also had some potassium issues this race and I think the extreme weather just made it worse. I told her that her fingers looked like the Michelin man. I was prepared to piggy back her to the next AS if anything worse happened, but thankfully we all made it to finish in one piece. Around mile 25, Deana kept urging Katie and I to take off if we wanted to. We told her she was crazy. We ran together for 25 miles! No one is leaving anyone; bitches stick together! And thus we rolled into the finish line just as we started -- together.

What's a race report without a time? We finished in around 8:25 (for the marathon; 9:25 for Katie for the 50K), but we weren't out there to race. We were on there on a hot and humid day to get in a long run and enjoy our time together. So the time is pretty irrelevant. Sadly none of us were DFL. Try as I might, I still have yet to log a DFL in a race. I'm not too worried, my day will come in due time.

We got to meet Rick (RisingForce) very breifly after the race -- he was kind enough to stick around and introduce himself. Sorry we didn't get to chat for very long, Rick!

For what it's worth, my SportTracks spit out the following numbers: 27.3 miles and +/- 7,000 feet of elevation change.

I had such a wonderful day running with these two! I wish that we all lived closer together so that we could run together on a regular basis. Thank you both for putting up with me; I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Let's plan another race together in near future, eh?




Katie and Deana giving the signature METAL horns.



Katie heading up one of the bluffs.



Deana behind me.



One of the rewards for the long climb.



More rewards.



We're done!



Of course we did one for the boys.

Ice Age Trail 50K 2011 Report

Saturday, May 14, 2011
La Grange, WI

On Saturday I completed my first ultra marathon, the Ice Age Trail 50K, which is held in the Southern Kettle Moraine State Forest here in Southern Wisconsin.

Background: I have been running for over three years and have never run a marathon. I have ran too many half marathons to count, along with a bunch of shorter races. I am a trail runner; I have never had much interest in running a road marathon. Trail marathons are few and far between in this area, so it seemed logical to just skip the marathon all together for now and jump straight into a trail 50K. My training went fairly well this winter/spring and I wrapped it up with a 25 mile run on the race course 3 weeks before the big day. I felt prepared and ready to go.

Primary goal: To finish, whether I had to walk, crawl, or drag myself across the finish line.

Secondary goal: To finish in under 8 hours.

Dream goal: To finish in under 7 hours.

I woke up at some ungodly early hour on race day morning and ate breakfast, got my stuff together, and loaded up the car. It took a little over an hour to get to the trailhead. We got there and the start was already busy with lots of things going on as the 50 mile race had already started at 6am and was currently underway. I went to the bathroom twice, applied my vasoline, found where to put my drop bag and chatted with a few of my friends who were also running the 50K. About 10 minutes before the start, I realized that I was hungry and quickly scarfed down a honey stinger waffle. The RD had us all line up (approx. 150 people) and no one even got within about 10 feet of the line. One of the many reasons why I love trail races. He said a few words about the course and counted down 3, 2, 1 and yelled GO and we were off! I was running my first ultra!

The starting area, where we would pass through three times. Also where my drop bag was located.

The RD making a few announcements before we start.

And here we go!

The course can be broken down into 3 sections: a 13 mile out and back on the Ice Age Trail, which is hilly, twisting, and rocky singletrack (my favorite!) The other two sections are on the Nordic loop, a 9 mile undulating, wide, sometimes rocky ski trail. We would run the out and back and the Nordic loop twice for a total of 31 miles.

After fretting about the weather forecast for days, we were rewarded with chilly temps and on/off light rain. Running weather doesn't get any better than that. I opted for shorts, long sleeves and thin gloves, which turned out to be the right choice for me. I was neither hot nor cold through the entire race.

I started out running with one of my friends who is significantly faster than me. He just ran Boston last month. I kept asking him what he was doing with me and he insisted that he wanted to start out slowly. So we made our way on the trail together chatting easily. I was carrying my handheld, so we breezed right on through the first aid station. About 2 miles into the race the good trail (at least to me) starts. To get to the good trail, you first have to get to the top of Bald Bluff, which is the highest point on the course. It's a steep and very rocky climb. We got to the top and then cruised on down the rocky singletrack and continued on the Ice Age Trail. I finally convinced my friend to take off and leave me when there was an opening in the conga line, so he did. I passed a few people myself and then was running alone in the middle of the woods. Perfect.

Somewhere on my way to the turn around, a guy comes flying at me from the opposite direction. I assumed that this was the 50K leader who was already on his way back and give him encouraging comments. Then I was running alone again. Minutes went by and no one else came running toward me. I was confused; maybe that wasn't the 50K leader, but just some really fast guy out for a run on the trail. Maybe a mile or so clicked by and finally more racers were coming toward me. Turns out that the first guy was the 50K leader and was absolutely smoking everyone on the course. He eventually finished in 3:18 and beat the 2nd place guy by over a half an hour. Wow.

As I got closer to the turn around point, horseriders aid station, more and more people came running at me. We had to share a very narrow trail. I politely stepped off the trail for the faster folks and let them get by. The best part about this was getting to see everyone in the race. And everyone had an encouraging word for me as they passed by. I think I exchanged good jobs and looking strongs or some sort of comment with every single person. I also witnessed a woman fall and helped her up. Thankfully the trail wasn't too technical at that point and she came away with just a bit of dirt on herself. Sometime after this, I stepped off the trail to let a racer go by in the opposite direction and stepped directly into a big bush of thorns. I cut up my right knee pretty good. Blood was flowing down my leg, but I didn't want to waste any time to stop and tend to it; it would dry. I caught up to Norm Yarger and chatted with him into the aid station. I loved running with him and listening to him greet people as he knew almost everyone! To get to the aid station, you get to breeze down a pretty nice downhill. I came bursting out of the woods and got to see my crew for the first time that day. I grabbed a few squares of PB&J and orange slices. I ate and chatted for maybe a minute before I realized that I was wasting time and took off again.

Coming into Horseriders AS.

Aid station fare.

The way back to the start clicked by pretty quickly. I enjoyed the singletrack, ate a gel, and looked at my Garmin for the first time all day. Approximately 8 miles had gone by. I had a fleeting thought about 23 miles left to go, but pushed that out of my head. It wasn't worth it to think about that at that point in the race. People seemed to be settling into their pace. I was running with a woman who I would run near through almost all of the rest of the race. One of my other friends also was also running slightly behind me at this point. About 10 miles in, he caught me and we chatted with our new friend until we reached our starting point and next aid station. We rolled into the start/aid station, which is where our drop bags were also located. My crew was on the phone with the other part of my crew who were lost and attempting to find the race, so she didn't have my tupperware full of gels like I asked her to have ready for me. I ran to go find my drop bag to reload my handheld with my gels. Did that, got my bottle refilled, ate potato chips, M&Ms and more oranges and started out on the first loop of the Nordic trails. 13 miles down, 18 left to go.

I was sort of dreading this section, honestly. I don't care for the Nordic trails as much; I prefer the singletrack. Not to say that this loop isn't beautiful, because it is, but it also sports a wicked section of roller coaster hills that are relentless. They don't ever seem to stop. I experienced the lowest point of my race here heading into the hills. I knew they were going to suck on the first time around and be very painful on the second time. I sung songs to myself in my head and tried to get myself pepped up. My friend was running slightly behind me, so it was helpful to know that he was back there. The start to the next aid station on Nordic is about 5 miles, which is the longest stretch between aid. A friend who had the course before told me that you get done with the hills and start wondering, "Where is that damn aid station?" And indeed, those were my exact thoughts. Where is the damn aid station?! Ahhh, finally! There it is in the distance. I know that you're supposed to not worry about the cumulative distance in an ultra, but instead just focus on getting to the next aid station. I understand that this is helpful in a way, but when I would finally get to an aid station, all I could think of was how I needed to get out of there because it felt so wonderful to just stop, eat, and chat with the volunteers. This aid station was especially nice because it was tucked in the middle of nowhere after a long stretch of nothingness. They also had flat coke and ginger ale, which I loved. The sugar gave me a nice boost. I ended up drinking some sort of soda at almost every aid station.

After the heavenly middle of nowhere aid station, it was only 2.3 miles to the next one. There's a pretty sweet section of flat running surrounded by pine trees on your way there. It's beautiful and I attempted to pick it up a little here. As I rounded a bend, I could see my full crew (now un-lost) and canine crew up ahead. I yelled HEYYYYY into the woods and they turned and saw me coming. I reached them and petted the canine crew for a few seconds before everyone jogged into the aid station with me. Quick cup of coke, more oranges, a few pictures and I got out of there; only 1.5 miles back to the start and done with one loop! This section is easy to gain some time on and I reeled in a few people who were walking.

Heading into the AS with the crew and canine crew.

Bye, see ya in a while!

On the Nordic loop heading back to the start.

I made it back to the now-beginning-to-get-busy-again start area. 21 miles down, 9 left to go. Faster 50Kers were finishing now, along with the 50 mile leaders. My crew was here again, but still not quite up to speed on getting me my gels, so I ran over to the drop bag again and got them myself. This was my longest stop by far. I grabbed some gels and peanut butter crackers. Ate the crackers and talked with my crew and explained the blood on my leg. I think they were concerned that I had fallen. I shoved the remaining crackers into someone's hands and decided that I should made a quick bathroom break. Bathrooms were only 50 ft away and no one was in there, so at least it was a quick stop. Ran back to my crew, told them I'd see them in a bit and then headed over to get my bottle refilled. A few more potato chips and oranges and I was back on the trail. This stop was probably about 5 minutes, way too long.

Back on the Nordic loop and I had a "Get 'er done" mentality going. That section of rollercoaster hills was looming in the distance, but at least I knew that once I ran them, they were over. Did they hurt that second time around? Oh yeah. I was going much slower on the downhills at this point, gingerly picking my way down instead of flying down like I could before. Ouch, ouch, ouch, my hips and butt were hurting. My friend who was behind me would catch up to me on the hills, but I would lose him on the flats. He said his IT band was hurting on the flats. We cruised together for a while on the hills; it was great to have the company. I choked down a gel while walking up a big hill. They weren't tasting very good anymore, but I knew that I needed the electrolytes. Somewhere around the marathon mark, things started to hurt. My right hamstring was aching and my feet just felt beat up in general. The distance was starting to take its toll on my body. We finally came into the heavenly middle of nowhere aid station together. I downed a ginger ale, chips and more oranges. I think I went through about 3-4 whole oranges by the time the race was over. I found them very refreshing after the soda and chips.

At this point, I knew the end was near. Only 4 more miles! A little less than hour and I'd be done. I was getting so close. I lost my friend for good at this point as I tried to kick it into high gear. I kept looking at my watch, wondering if there was any possibility that I could break 7 hours. I knew that I was going to be close, but I also knew that it just wasn't going to happen. I'd have to run sub-10 minute miles, which would normally not be a problem for 4 miles, but that ain't happening for me at the end of an ultra. But I still wanted to get as close to 7 hours as possible, so I ran. I ran some of the hills and realized that it actually felt good to run uphill, as those muscles hadn't been used much. So I ran some of the smaller uphills. I think it's important to note that I passed at least 5 people on this last loop, but no one passed me. I felt like I was running at a screaming pace, but would look down at my Garmin and see a 10:30-11:00 pace. Good enough. I was back in the pretty pine trees and looking for the next aid station and hopefully my crew. I debated if I should even stop. My bottle was full enough, maybe I'd just snag a quick cup of coke. I saw my crew and decided I wasn't stopping. I yelled something about keeping going and I'd see them at the finish. Who needs coke? I was ready to be DONE.

I got a little emotional in that last mile. I could run. I was running! I had ran 30 miles and I could still run! I guess I don't know what I expected to happen after 30 miles, but it amazed me that I could still move as well as I did. A 50 miler who was on his way to the finish (about a 9 hour finish for him; he was way out of my league) caught up with me and we talked for a minute. He asked if this was my first ultra (what, did my half marathon shirt give my noobness away?) and I replied that it was. He told me congratulations and I got a little emotional again. This was it, I was going to finish. He eventually breezed ahead of me and I was alone again. A few spectators appeared and I thought I could hear something in the distance. Almost there. An older gentleman who looked like a runner asked me if I was familiar with the course. Yes sir, I am. He pointed at the bench just ahead. "That's 5 minute bench. 5 more minutes and you're home." I thanked him. 5 minute bench, I love you. I heard the finish line and the crowd yelling. I got teary eyed. But what I thought about more than anything in those final few minutes was, "I get to stop running soon." I rounded a corner and there it was. Those orange cones leading to the red finish sign. The crowd was awesome and I finished with the best ultra-sprint I could. To me, this was better than Boston, better than New York, Chicago, London, or any big road marathon. I saw my crew and my dogs and smiled and smiled and ran across the line and...stopped. I could stop running now.

Official finish time of 7:07:39. The course has +/- 4,500 feet of elevation according to my SportTracks.

Almost there!

Finishing strong.

I had my hands on my knees and tried to help the guy with my gaiters so he could cut my chip off, but I don't think that I did much. I saw Thom waiting for me at the end. He gave me a hug and someone gave me my finisher's key chain. We talked for a minute before I needed to go find my crew and canine crew. I wobbled around, happy to not be running, but also in need of a place to sit down. My crew found me and I stood there, half bent over with my hands on my knees. My mom kept asking me if I was okay. I replied that I was fine, I was just tired! After walking around for a bit and walking my parents to their car, I was able to grab some food and beer and SIT DOWN. I really wanted to stay longer and hang out because the atmosphere was so much fun, but I was ridiculously cold. I could not stop shivering despite my jacket and gloves. So unfortunately we took off shortly after I ate. But what a day! Ultra runners are some of the most awesome people I've had the privilege of meeting. Every single person was friendly, helpful and supportive. After I finished a guy asked me if I ran the 50 mile or 50K and I replied that I was just a slow 50Ker. He told me, "There is no such thing as a slow 50K." Maybe that's debatable, but a nice sentiment nonetheless.

The finish.

Shirt and finisher's key chain.

The aftermath: I still have all ten toenails. I acquired my first blister, which was small and has since come and gone. We had to stop 2 times on the hour drive home so I could pee. I was surprisingly not very hungry that night. I ate one piece of pizza, a few breadsticks, 2 beers and felt stuffed. I crashed shortly after 10pm, and woke up at 6am starving. I made myself scrambled eggs with spinach and waffles and ate and went back to sleep for another few hours. I then made up for those lost calories over the next two days.

Clearly I handled my nutrition well. I never bonked, never had any sort of swelling or felt like something was off. I drank water when I was thirsty and consumed the following: 3 Crank E-gels, many cups of coke/ginger ale, lots of oranges, some potato chips, a few crackers, a few squares of PB&J, and a small handful of M&Ms. The only thing that was slightly wrong was in the middle of the second loop, I felt a little woozy. This happened while walking; when I ran I felt better. I don't know what that was and it passed fairly quickly.

I had an awesome first ultra experience. Will I run another one? Absolutely. I plan on getting a few more 50Ks under my belt before I go for a 50 miler, hopefully in 2012. I do think that I could easily have a sub-7 trail 50K in me; I wasn't that far off on this one. Will I ever run a road marathon? Yeah, probably someday. It's just not very high on my list of priorities. Next stop: Moose Mountain Marathon, which I fully expect to be a lot harder than this race. I can't wait to see what the Superior Hiking Trail in Northern Minnesota can dish out.

Rails to Trails Half Marathon 2010 Report

Sunday, November 7, 2010
Norwalk, WI

On Sunday I ran the Rails to Trails half marathon in Norwalk, WI. Never heard of Norwalk? Yeah, me either. It's this tiny little town in the middle of Wisconsin that the Elroy-Sparta bike trail (A Rail to Trail, obviously) crosses though. This trail is mostly crushed limestone and features three old railroad tunnels. The race took us through the longest tunnel, which was 3/4 of a mile long and the highlight of the race.

I had just raced a half marathon and scored a huge 10 minute PR (2:12:02) last weekend, so may plan for this race was just to go on cruise control and enjoy the scenery. I was also there to support Tigg in his attempt to BQ. Both races followed the same out and back pattern on the trail, but the marathon started a full hour earlier, so we figured that if he was on BQ pace (3:10:59), he would pass me in the last few miles of the race.

We arrived in the tiny town of Norwalk on Sunday morning. I picked up my packet and milled around before the start. It was a very quaint little town with beautiful farms and hills. The weather couldn't have been more perfect -- it was sunny and cool. I stayed in my jacket, pants and mittens until a few minutes before the start when I striped down to shorts and long sleeves.




Pinning on the bib.



Welcome to Norwalk!



Tigg comes flying through the 5K mark of the marathon while Steve cheers him on in the background.




It was pretty chilly while waiting around.




Almost time to start.




And here we go!

I can never remember how races start, since I always line up in the back of the pack. I'm pretty sure there was a 3-2-1-go and we were off. The first section of the race headed East and was a short out and back for a total of 3.1 miles. Then we passed through the finish area again and headed West for the other out and back section. I swear there were no flat sections on this race at all. Since it was run on a rail to trail, there was never any steep elevation changes, but rather long and steady gradual hills. I have come to the realization that I do not like these long and steady hills. They just never ended. We were either going up or going down. The going up seemed to never end.

Finally, we hit "The Tunnel." It was all people were talking about before the race and it certainly lived up to the hype. Forgive me for saying this, but I was reminded of those Chilean miners while running through it. We were handed flashlights from volunteers before entering and they had lanterns and flashing cones set up inside the tunnel, but otherwise it was pitch dark in there. It felt like we were running through a cave. Water was running down the walls and raining down on us from above. I actually got fairly wet from this. The ground was pretty uneven and there was puddles that I tried to avoid, but it was hard to see even with the flashlight. It was definitely the coolest experience I've ever had in a race so far.




Leading up to the tunnel. (Photo stolen from google.)



Inside looking out. (Photo stolen from google.)

The first time through the tunnel was downhill and I ran though it in 8:09 (that's how long my Garmin lost satellite reception for at least.) Then we had maybe a mile until the turn around and then a mile back before we hit the tunnel again. Before hitting the tunnel the second time, my significant other found me at an aid station and I stopped to get a GU, have a short chat and drink some water. I stopped for a little over a minute and it was a welcome break. My legs felt like lead after racing a half just a week ago. After this break, my pace considerably slowed. Going back through the tunnel took me 9:03. I stopped and walked for a bit after the next aid station. I figured Tigg should be passing me shortly if he was on BQ pace because I was going so slowly.

It was a beautiful day on the trail.




Here I come; about to hit an aid station.

Finally, with only maybe 1.5 miles or so left to go, Tigg comes running up from behind me. I know he's not on BQ pace anymore. I speed it up and hang with him for a minute or two at his pace -- turns out he went out too fast and started to slow down after mile 18 or so. I tell him to get going and finish and at least score a big PR, which he did end up doing. I picked up the pace for the last mile or so and finished strong. My pace was all over the place for this race. I was running anywhere from 9:30-12:30mm.

Second worst HM finish in 2:25:38. But no big deal, I was just there to have a good time and I most certainly did! This race was lots of fun and I'd recommend it, especially for new trail runners. It was neither a road race nor a trail race, but a nice in between.



Tigg finishing the marathon.




A good floating finishing picture.




Orange slices are my favorite.

The day ended even better with food and beer with good friends while watching the Packers absolutely kill the Cowboys!

Minus the 10K I have coming up on Thanksgiving, I am done with racing until next spring. I look forward to running as many trails as possibly before the snow flies. And then still running them as much as the weather allows!

Haunted Hustle Half Marathon 2010 Report

Saturday, October 30, 2010
Middleton, WI

On Saturday I ran the Haunted Hustle Half Marathon in Middleton, WI, which is a suburb of Madison. I only had to drive 15 minutes to the start, which was super convenient. This was an inaugural event that included a marathon, half marathon and 10K. It was advertised as a "Ghost Tour" and Halloween race. People were encouraged to dress up in costume. I can't say that I'll ever get into the whole costume thing.

A little background: I ran 3 half marathons this summer:

Madison Half Marathon. Finish time 2:30, a personal worst. Hot, hot, hot. The race actually ended up getting canceled and runners pulled from the course due to the extreme heat.

DWD Devil's Lake Trail Half Marathon. Finish time 3:19. -2500 / +2500 elevation loss/gain.

Madison Mini Marathon. Finish time 2:23. Humid. Like running through soup.

Summer left me frustrated and upset. I churned out a decent 5K in the middle of all that, so I knew the speed was there. I just needed to put some pieces together. My plan for this race was to start out slowly and pick it up from there. I knew the first few miles had some hills and the rest was fairly flat. Starting temperature was in the 40s. My goal was to PR (sub-2:20), which was pretty much a given. My next goal was to go sub-2:15.

I started out nice and easy. We were running through some neighborhoods and I was just enjoying the atmosphere. We climbed a few decent sized hills. I bombed the downhills like I was out running the trails. It felt good.

Running through the neighborhood.

The next few miles took us on a crowded bike path, as it was an out and back. Suddenly we were all squished together as half the runners were running toward the turn around and the others were running back. I had to pull back a little here as it was difficult to pass. But I did see Anne at this point in the race and I think I said something super motivating like, "ANNE! Hey! How are you?!" Good going, Mandy.

Once we were out of the congested bike path, we hit an open section and it felt good to get around the slower people. After walking through a water station and sucking down a GU, I pulled out my iPod and cranked up the music a little after mile 6. It gave me a nice boost. I was feeling good at this point, so I figured it was time to pick it up.



Some time during the middle of the race.

Saw Anne again on another out and back and exchanged high fives. This whole race went by quickly for me. Before I knew it, I was at mile 10 and still feeling great. I knew my PR was in the bag, but I wasn't sure by how much because I missed a few of my splits. The last mile or two we were running into the wind. I kept hoping that we would turn a corner and I would have the wind at my back, but it seemed like it was blowing at me from every direction. Finally we're nearing the finish and I could hear the loudspeaker. A little detour on a bike path and I see that we only have to crest a small hill and then it's downhill to the finish line. I sprint past a few people who are ambling along and literally jump for joy over the finish line as I know that I have smashed my goal.

Splits:

Mile 1 - 10:39
Mile 2 - 10:31
Mile 3 - 10:39
Mile 4 - 10:07
Mile 5 - 10:24
Mile 6 - 10:30
Mile 7 - 10:15
Mile 8 - 10:15
Mile 9 - 10:11
Mile 10 - 9:58
Mile 11 - 9:52
Mile 12 - 10:01
Mile 13 - 9:33

Official finish time 2:12:02. Almost a 10 minute PR!




Actually hopping over the finish line.




Quite possibly one of my funniest finish line pictures.

Finally I got my damn half marathon PR! I'd been waiting too long for this. Judging from my splits, I need to work on my pacing. I also finished with some energy to spare and my legs didn't really even hurt afterward. I have said repeatedly that I am no good at racing and it's true. I probably could have run this faster. My problem is that I don't have the drive or desire to push it as hard as I should to be a good road racer. I love being out there. I love running. I love running fast, but not fast enough that I'm hurting too much. So where does that lead me?

After 5 half marathons and countless shorter races, I have hit a point where I feel the need to do something different. I've absolutely fallen in love with the trails in the past year. I have no desire to run a road marathon, but a trail marathon? Let's just say that I may already have one picked out. In 2011 I plan on running as many trails as possible while prepping for a fall marathon. After 3 years of running, I think it's finally time!



T-shirt and medal from the race.

The Art of Getting Lost: Rock Cut Hobo Trail 25K Report

Saturday, September 18, 2010
Rockford, IL

I ran the Rock Cut Hobo 25K trail run on Saturday morning. It was held in Rock Cut State Park in Rockford, IL. Pictures below are snagged from google - I did not carry my camera for this run.

This race was a planned distance PR for me. The longest I had run before was around 14 miles (from a previous trail HM that had a small detour.) Little did I know, that this run would turn into a HUGE distance PR for me.

I drove down to Rockford on Saturday morning and found the park. Picked up my bib number and "Hobo socks." You didn't get to collect your shirt until you crossed the finish line.

This was a small race -- maybe around 100 people. No chip timing and the starting line was just a couple of cones. I stayed toward the back of the pack and we were off. I kept my pace nice and easy. Having never ran this far before, I wanted to start off slow and just keep a nice steady pace through out.

I settled in for the first 2 miles with a couple of other runners. We started out for maybe a half mile on the road and then merged onto the trail. At first it was fairly non-technical singletrack. The runners in front of me started walking too early for my tastes, so I left them. Now I was running alone, which I found quite enjoyable. I was just clipping along, enjoying the trail. After a bit, I came to a T intersection. It was unmarked. Uh oh. Then I saw a post in the ground with an arrow. I thought it indicated for me to go right, so I did. I glanced back frequently to see if any other runners were in my line of sight. None. I shrugged it off and kept going.

This was a flat crushed gravel path, which made for easy running. I passed a few wild turkeys. The trail eventually came to a road. No signs. I crossed the road and picked up a new path, still with no signs. I finally had the sense to realize that I was lost and started back tracking. I came to an intersection and stopped to try and use the rudimentary map on my Garmin to see which way I should go. I thought I had it right and resumed running. Still no signs and no other runners.

After running for a while and not seeing any people or signs, I slowly started filling with dread. I was lost. Like, really lost. I'd never been to these trails before and the best way to describe them are a spiderweb. I came to another unmarked 4 way intersection and threw up my hands in frustration. Again, I tried to use the (mostly worthless) map on Garmin to figure out which way to go. Then it started to rain. And lighting. And thunder. Great. I'm lost in the middle of the woods in Illinois and it's pouring.

Finally, finally, I see signs for the run again. I'm relieved and hope that I didn't get too far off track. So I'm running along and I start to think to myself, "Hmmm, this looks familiar. Haven't I passed this meadow before?" Yes, I am indeed back on the race course, but I'm somehow back at the beginning! I'm contemplating throwing in the towel at this point as I'm frustrated and angry that I got so lost. But I feel good at this point, so I just keep moving. Regarding mileage, I have no idea where on the course I am. I pass a picnic table with a water cooler. Was that an unmanned aid station, or has everyone already left that aid station? I just keep running and am SO THANKFUL to have my handheld with me. Lesson learned -- I'm never running a trail race without it.

My mileage is starting to creep up and I haven't seen ANYONE in well over an hour. At least it's stopped raining. 7, 8, 9 miles go by. Finally I am running along the trail and I see a marker for the race that says mile 5 -- I look down at my Garmin and see that I have run 10 MILES already. F$@$*$%!!  Are you kidding me? I got 5 miles off course?! Then it hits me. If I decide to finish this, I will have to run over 20 miles. I figure, what the hell? I'm out here, I've already run 10, and I want my finisher's shirt. If I have to walk the last 5 miles, so be it. Let's do this.

The rest of the trail is magically well marked, so I'm not worried about getting lost again. I just concentrate on moving forward and hopefully catching up to someone, anyone, and not finish DFL. I pass the "5 mile" aid station and it's deserted -- even the volunteers have left at this point. At least there's still water. Top off my handheld and keep going. Run into a couple of mountain bikers and I'm just happy to see other people. I'm enjoying the trail again -- it's singletrack and beautiful. Totally runnable, even though there are some slick muddy spots and sand. There are some steep hills, but nothing awful by any means. This is Illinois after all.

Some nice trail

At 12 miles (7 miles), I finally come across a pair of racers -- two older ladies who are walking the course. "I could hug you!" I tell them, and relay my story. They tell me that I'm back on course and give me some encouragement. As I am taking off, one of them yells something about good bonus miles. I love trail runners.

I'm starting to get hungry. I took a GU at my mile 6, but have only one other GU with me. Should I take it now and hope that there's something at the 10 mile (my 15 mile) AS for me, or play it safe and save it in case there's not? I decide to play it safe and save my GU till later. I hit 14 miles on my Garmin. Every step after this is a distance PR for me. I've crossed one stream, which felt really good on my feet while I was in the water, but now my shoes are squishing around. I'm pretty sure there's another stream crossing coming up somewhere. And there it is! This one has rocks you can step on in order not to get your shoes wet, but I slip and my feet get soaked again anyway.

Stream crossing.

I make to the 10 mile (15 miles) AS and it's deserted. No people and the water cooler is empty. My handheld is getting low, so that worries me. Then I see the stairs. Oh, goody.

Lots of stairs.

Looking down the climb.

I slowly climb the stairs (why waste energy on this?) and suck down my GU. I have only a few swallows of water left my in handheld after I down water with the GU, so I'm really hoping that the next AS isn't out.

I hit 15.5 miles and my body is tired. I'm supposed to be done by now. This was a low point for me. I have 5 miles left and I have no choice but to get through them -- I need to get back to the car somehow. I'm run/walking and need to keep telling myself to run. I think about Jason running 55 miles and tell myself to suck it up and remember his mantra of, "relentless forward motion." So I just keep moving, running as best as I can.

Somewhere around mile 16 or 17, a runner appears. I see the back of her and I'm so excited to see another person. I come running up from behind her and exclaim, "I am so happy to see you!" Turns out that she started the race 30 minutes late. She's been all alone the whole time and is ecstatic to see me as well. She tells me, "You're my angel!" No way, girlfriend. You're MY angel! She turns out to be an experienced ultra runner and a talker at that. Works out perfectly, as I am a good listener. We decide to run the downhills and flats and walk the uphills. I wouldn't say that time is flying by now, but it's certainly moving faster than when I was by myself. We chat about running, races, family, etc. She recommends a few 50Ks to me and tells me about all that ultras that she's done. She is running the "Triple Crown" at this race (10K Friday night, 25K Saturday and 50K Sunday.) Hardcore.

We pass another AS and this one has water. Hallelujah! My Garmin reads 18 miles at this point. My new friend offers me one of her electrolyte capsules, but I decline. I've already run this far on 2 GUs and limited water, what's another couple of miles? We get to a confusing intersection and two women are just standing there looking lost. They ask us if we know which way to go. We finally figure out that one way is where we've already ran, another way is a loop that we have yet to do, and the third way is to the finish line. They've already run the loop, so they take off for the finish and we start the last loop on the trail. The two women tell us it's maybe a mile or so, but it feels so much longer. The only good thing about the loop is that we PASS SOMEONE. Yes, someone else is still out there this late and we give her words of encouragement as go by.

We emerge out of the loop and head toward the finish. First, however, we have to pass through this nasty drainage tube. It's filled with water and absolutely not runnable. You actually have to pick your way quite slowly through it, otherwise you'll trip and fall. Definitely one of the strangest things I've done in a race. Feet get soaking wet yet again.

Picture something like this filled with water.

Finally we're out of the tube. We hike up a hill and I see the finish in the distance. We pick up the pace for the last little bit and bring it in. I've never been happier to stop running. My legs are aching, my left arch is in pain, and I've run 5 miles more than necessary. The finish is deserted. A few people manage to clap as we cross the line. The RD is still there as well as a few volunteers and runners, but otherwise it's a ghost town. I collect my shirt and exchange a few parting words with my new friend. She helped me more than she knows. I don't know what I would have done without her -- those last miles would have been unbearably lonely.

So I didn't finish DFL, but pretty close. Official results are not out yet, but I'm pretty sure that I was 5th to last.

Unofficial Garmin time = 4:20:38 for 20.5 miles. (A dismal time for a 25K trail race, but oh well.)

Finishers shirt and Hobo socks.

Elevation profile. Fairly tame for the trails, but there were some decent hills.

Reflections:

I never would have done a 20 mile run on my own. I was content with not exceeding much past 15 miles unless I had committed to running a marathon. Being forced to do 20 miles really put things in perspective for me. I don't know why I was so worried about exceeding the half marathon distance, but honestly there wasn't that big of a difference. You just keep moving your legs. I'm a little more sore than usual, but it's nothing terrible. Going slowly and being on the trail probably helped. A 20 mile road run may have knocked me out more.

Perhaps I will look for a trail marathon or 50K next year, especially if I can find someone to run it with me. (Any volunteers?) Running with someone at the end was more helpful than I realized. If I had kept running with my new friend, I know that I could have knocked out 6 more miles -- it wouldn't have been easy and I would have needed more fuel, but I could have done it. (Albeit slowly.)

Despite being lost and getting frustrated at times, I had a great time. I'd love to come back next year and redeem myself.

Madison Mini Marathon 2010 Report

Saturday, August 21, 2010
Madison, WI

Last Saturday I ran my favorite half marathon - The Madison Mini Marathon.

I ran this last year as my first half and it was an awesome race, so I was excited to run it again. I can't say enough good things about this race - it's well organized, the tech shirt is great, course is beautiful with some various hills, and of course there's beer at the finish line like most Wisconsin races.

Friday night I picked up Saint Tigg and we headed to Noodles to meet Steve (ssmith1187), Tim (timmers), and Anne (murphnjaime). Anne was running a little late and I had a bet going that she wasn't going to show up. She'd never met us before and after a few questionable e-mails from the boys, I was worried that she was scared off. Thankfully Anne is fearless and did make it to dinner! Anne, you are far braver than I to meet up with a bunch of crazy people talking about shaving.

My cookies got passed around and there were few left at the end of dinner. Since no one has given a decent cookie report yet, I will say that they were quite tasty.



Tigg, Tim, and Steve.




Mandy, Tigg, Tim, Steve, Anne




Flashing gang symbols. Where did I go wrong with these children?


Race morning I met up with Steve, Timmers, and Madcow75. Madcow and I have run a few races together now, but this was the first time we got to meet in person. Bucky Badger was wandering around and we attempted to get a picture with him for Timmers (he's a HUGE Badgers fan), but the woman who took the picture somehow screwed it up, so sadly we have no evidence of Tim with Bucky. We split up after this - Tim and I went to find bathrooms and Steve went to his fancy preferred start corral.

I lined up in between the 2:10 and 2:20 pace corrals and waited for the race to begin. The sky was cloudy, but it was ridiculously humid. The air felt like soup. The dew point was above 70. Honestly, I didn't have a goal for this race at all. I figured I would run the first few miles and see how I was feeling. I do want to run a 2:15 HM this fall, but I wasn't planning on doing so during this race seeing that it is in the middle of August.

The race started right on time, but it took me a few minutes to get to the start. I crossed the mat, started my Garmin and we were off.

Mile 1 - 10:29  Running slightly uphill and toward the capitol. The capitol looked ominous is the distance and you couldn't even make out the top because it was covered in fog. Pass the farmer's market.

Mile 2 - 10:42  Down State Street and onto a bike path for a brief time. I notice drops on the ground and wonder if it has started to sprinkle. Nope, that's just the drops of sweat from the thousands of people ahead of me. Ewww. I'm sweating heavily at this point too. The humidity just won't let anything evaporate off you.

Mile 3 - 10:54   Heading towards the zoo.

Mile 4 - 10:42  Going though Vilas Park and the zoo. Pretty uneventful.

Mile 5 - 10:39  Just chugging along waiting for the hills to start.

Mile 6 - 11:10  And here come the hills through the Arboretum. I see many side trails off the road and want to go hang out on the trail instead of running this race!

Mile 7 - 11:12  More hills. Take a GU.

Mile 8 - 10:54  We're out of the Arb and it feels good. More crowd support.

Mile 9 - 11:20  Get a huge side stitch out of the blue. Where did that come from and why? I pressed on my side for a while and hoped it would go away. Eventually it did.

Mile 10 - 11:11  Heading onto the UW-Madison campus.

Mile 11 - 11:31  No idea why this mile was so slow. Waved to a few people that I knew as we were approaching the turn around point.

Mile 12 - 10:40  I notice that they've yellow flagged the race. Ugh. HUMID!

Mile 13 - 10:17  Time to pick up the pace and finish this thing.

Last .1 - 8:14 pace The end of this race is great. You basically come screaming down a decently sized hill.

Official time 2:23:24

Not my best half by any means, but certainly not my worst. I have been feeling very 'meh' about my running lately. Hoping to get my mojo back once cooler weather hits.

I chugged some chocolate milk and ate a banana in the finishing chute. I hadn't seen Timmy during the race at all, so I waited for him to finish. Steve and Madcow found me and we all waited for Timmy together. He rolled in a little later telling us that he bonked hardcore around mile 8. It was just not a good day for running. We all looked like we had gone swimming in our running clothes at the end.

I had to sit down for a while after the race because I started feeling light headed. Does this happen to anyone else? It's happened to me a few times now recently and it's quite unpleasant. I don't know if it's just the heat getting to me or what.

It was absolutely fantastic to get to meet Timmy, Anne and Madcow and of course fun to hang out with Steve and Tigg again. We certainly have a good time when we're together! I hear that I missed an awesome dinner later that night filled with falafel and Steve trying to ruin people's weddings. (You're going to have to ask him about that one.)