Surf the Murph 50-Mile 2012 Race Report

Wow.  What a difference a year makes.  This race went from a total bummer last year, to my new favorite 50 miler.  The volunteers were fantastic, the weather perfect, and the trails in pristine shape.  What a great way to end the season.  And what fun it was.

Surf the Murph is a series of three races set in the 2,800 acre Murphy Hanrehan Reserve in Savage, MN.  A single loop of the park nets a little less than 17 miles, so we get races at 25k, 50k and 50 miles depending on the number of loops you feel like suffering though.  The terrain varies from dirt road to technical singletrack with about 2,000 of elevation for each loop.

This race is a bit unique to the ones I tend to choose.  Ignore the trail markers at any time, at your peril.  You’ve got to pay attention.  On every loop.  The RD’s worked a great, well-marked course, and it is our job to follow it and not create our own.  As I tend to zone out on long runs, this always proves a challenge.  And as I know, I can be attention-challenged.

My goal for this race was a top-10 finish, under 9:30.  I find this course a challenge to move through quickly, especially on the final loop, so I may have been a bit delusional.  The first loop was a planned easy glide, the second a major push, and the third, well, whatever I had left in the tank, if anything.  Also, after getting pretty dehydrated at North Face, I committed to drinking plenty and keeping the electrolytes coming.

Before the race – I’ve been trying something new with pre-race nutrition: starting on the Monday prior, I greatly reduced my starch intake (no pasta, no potatoes).  Then on Friday I snacked all day on a trough of mashed potatoes.  4:00 Saturday morning saw a cup of oatmeal, a banana and a caffeine-free Gu about 20 minutes prior to the 6:00 am start.  Though nutrition is probably my weakest link, this plan seemed to have worked well this year.

The temperature at the start was upper 20’s and felt vastly better than the 22° at last year’s start.  I was wearing a technical long-sleeve turtleneck with compression shorts, gloves and a knit cap.  I brought lots of clothes along though, because I knew the temps would be rising.   Though the aid stations were close-spaced, most people carried water.  I had mine in the form of a single 22 oz bottle in a waist-pack.  The parking, check-in and pre-race brief went very smoothly.

And then we were off – About 50 bobbing headlamps trundled into the woods for the first of three loops.  This initial portion of the loop consisted of about 5 miles of wooded hills, which seemed like the bulk of the elevation for the course.  My easy glide was working fine for me.  I kept telling myself to ignore the other racers and focus on my pace.  I know it sounds silly, but the urge to race at mile 2 of a 50 mile race was so strong.  Like being first into aid station 1 was the goal.  Way to go.

I didn’t mind these hills in the dark when I couldn’t see them approaching; so much easier to zen through.  Before we knew it we were through the cheerful aid station 1.  What a great group of volunteers; I drew on their fantastic energy (and their orange gels, mmm).  The hills weren’t done yet though.  Among the challenges following aid-1 there was a series of three step hills that gave you a steep 370 feet of slogging.  If someone has named these, I’d love to hear about it; I like cursing them with their proper names.

Into Aid-2 – It was still dark when I met my wife Beth at the second aid station.  This station doubled as aid-4 as well, and had room for crew.  As I rolled in I was met with a “Hey Hon”, followed by a chorus of “Hey Hon”s from the aid station volunteers.  What a great group; they cracked me up.

Beth and I planned a quick pit stop and it worked pretty well.  I exchanged my (almost) empty bottle with a fresh one filled with warmish water.  That aid station water can get cold, and very uncomfortable to drink.  Beth also warmed up a gel in her arm pit.  Tasty Tropical!  And then I was gone.

Smooth and Flatish – While the first 5 miles of the course had some hills I tended to hike, the remainder were mostly of the short or unsteep variety, and thus pretty runnable.  And the sunrise was gorgeous!  What a wonderful feeling to be in the first 10 miles of a trail run, early on a clear Saturday morning, at sunrise, among friends.  Ahhh.  Hmmm.  Uhhh, I haven’t seen a trail marker in a bit.  At about this time someone yelled “Trail!” behind me, and saved me from a long, unplanned excursion.  Thanks.

In and Out of Aid-3 – The third aid station was a bit more business-like, really getting us in and out fast.  Great energy.  I grabbed another gel, (tropical again) and was out, down a mouse path through the woods, with a limbo tree thrown in for free.  I knew that I would curse that tree by the third loop.

Following some very relaxing trail running, we started the first of two technical, wooded singletrack areas called Smurph Village.  I loved this section.  It was like the snowshoe section at Afton, only a bit more technical (and shorter).  The signs placed throughout were humorous, but I’d have to stop if I wanted to read them.  I needed to keep my eyes on the terrain.  At this time, three deer came flying like missiles though the woods, toward a group behind me.  The deer just put their heads way down and turned on the turbos.  Yikes.

The Final Bits – Into aid-4 (same location as aid-2) I did another bottle swap, along with an S-cap and gel, and a quarter of a PB&J with a potato chip inside.  This seemed to work very well at keeping my stomach happy as I had no digestive issues throughout the race.

The final 4.5 miles of the loop had gentle hills and nice flats.  That is, except for the second technical, wooded singletrack, called the Fun Zone.  Last year I missed the turnoff for this section.  Twice.  And it really set my mood for the remainder of the race.  I was bound and determined not to miss the turnoff this time.  The RD’s placed what looked like a billboard at this turnoff this year.  Thanks.  I guess I was not the only dork not paying attention last year.  The Fun Zone was pretty short, but had a nasty climb and descent in the middle.  The trail was covered with leaves the first time through, and thus traction was very difficult to maintain.

And then the first loop was complete!  As the temperature was climbing (mid 30’s I think), it was time for a technical tee and a pair of running sleeves.  After a gel (still caffeine-free), S-cap and PB&J, I was into my second (and toughest) loop.

Loop-1 plan: 3:10, actual: 2:50

Second Loop – After an easy glide on loop-1, this loop was to be the one where I pushed myself.  But not in the hills.  I tried to take the first 5 miles with an easy perceived effort; I knew I would see these one more time.  On the flats following aid-2, I started my push to about 7:30 miles.  My legs were not happy, and I went through my first difficult phase.  My respiration climbed and I was afraid I would not be able to hold that pace.  After what seemed like about 5 miles (shortly after aid-3) my respiration relaxed.  I did go off-course again in Smurph Village, though not very far.  I also cut back on the gels to about every 45 minutes; instead of the every 20-30 minutes.

Following aid-4, I started with the Double Espresso-flavored Clif Shots.  I can’t stand the taste of coffee, and these gels make me gag.  But wow, what a kick in the shorts they gave!  I loved those things.  I also dropped the running sleeves, as the temperature was now in the low 40’s.

Loop-2 plan: 3:00, actual: 2:55

Into My Last Loop – I was feeling great heading into the hills for the last time, and was very optimistic.  I knew that a sub-9 hr race was within reach.  Of course, it was easier to be optimistic before the hills.  I was trumpeted in to aid-1 by one of the volunteers.  Awesome!  The crew here was very energetic and supportive.  I heard that trumpet booming for the next 2 miles or so, accompanied every so often by a drum.  I flew through aid-1 with a smile and a thanks, unlike last year when I slogged up to the table in pretty sad shape.  What a difference a year makes.

Following aid-1, there was a gate we needed to squeeze by followed by an immediate left.  It was here that I took my biggest off-course excursion.  I went straight after taking the left correctly on the first two loops.  Agh!  This was almost exactly a 1 mile off-course jaunt which cost me about 10 minutes.  I was really upset with myself.  It took a bit of self-phych to get myself back into the race.  After getting back on course a guy with a skeleton shirt on flew by me, racing up and down the hills.  I think it might have been the first-place 50k racer.  Wow did he look fresh and friendly.  Way to go!

Following aid-2 my legs felt as useless as tree trunks.  Ugh.  My respiration was fine, so I did what I needed to do and concentrated on keeping my stride and pace consistent.  Finally working though that, the flats went by quickly.

Out of aid-4 I was told I was in 9^th place.  That felt pretty cool.  As this was the start of the final 4.5-mile portion, I dropped my hat and gloves.  The cold became my motivation to finish fast.  I passed a racer who was looking pretty beat up and tried my best to motivate her with encouragement, stating she was “very near the finish”, and “as good as done”.

And then I was Done – The best pace I could manage into the finish was about 7:00, but that felt right.  My time was 9:12, well under my 9:30 goal.  At first I was hard on myself for the 10+ minutes I spent off-course, but not for long.  Paying attention is a big part of this race, and those ahead of me did that well.  I finished in 11^th place (vice the reported 9^th), with the elusive top-10 only 26 seconds ahead.  Motivation for next year!

Also, that racer I tried to motivate in the last loop bypassed the finish mat and headed back out again.  She was just starting her third loop.  I can only imagine what she was thinking when I told her she was “as good as done.”  Way to persevere!

What a great way to end the season.  I felt I ran a strong race and took from it motivation to run stronger and smarter next year.  Thanks to the RD’s and volunteers for a great race.  Thanks to God for the wonderful gift of running and the freedom and peace it brings.

Now it's time to relax (a bit) and get fat (for a bit).  Until next year.

I See Dead Turtles

I get just a little delusional when really fatigued.  I wouldn’t call these hallucinations, but I have these weird moments that happen predictably, and in a preset order.  You see… I see dead turtles.  And they don’t know they’re dead.

More on that later.  Surf the Murph is less than a week away.  I am pretty pumped.  The weather is supposed to be cold: 20’d to 40’s, but sunny.  I’m ready to make friends with pain in the Fun Zone and Smurf Village again.  It’s gonna be great!  I am looking for a 9:30 finish; I’ll have a race report next week detailing my folly with unrealistic race goals.  Probably.  Maybe not though.

OK, back to the turtles.  I have a unique (I think) tendency late in 50-mile races to see things that are not there.  Nothing exciting like lost ghost miners or phantom pacers; just little things that I have come to expect to see when really fatigued.  They seem harmless at first, but I am convinced they are phantasms out to ensure my death.

The turtles are the first to attack.  Roundish rocks in the trails become little reptile monsters.  I don’t see four legs, a head and a tail per se; my mind just tells me that there is a turtle on the trail, and I should act accordingly, getting out of the way in case it’s a snapper.  At first it is kind of funny, but after a while I get sick of the !@#$ turtles.

come closer...

I have a confession.  I know why the rocks become turtles, and not beach balls or banjos.  It is my dead pet from the 70’s coming back for me.  Swimmer was a painted turtle that I caught while swimming in a Wisconsin lake when I was about 10, and kept for about 5 years.  He (/she, who knows?) died when I forgot to feed him (/her, whatever).  The Ghost of Swimmer back from the grave.  And (she) wants blood!

After turtles come snakes.  Sticks in the trails become causes for alarm, turning into snakes when I’m about to stride over them.  This causes me to over-extend, or stumble.  Again, no snakey tongue or markings; just my mind re-categorizing the threat from stick to reptile.  I don’t think I’ve ever been involved in snakeacide, and they really don’t freak me out.  Maybe I’m just a dork.  Probably.

The coup de gras (or is it ‘fleur de lis’?) though is when complete strangers become familiar; their identity being just on the tip of my tongue.  I hate this!  I once stared down a guy at the finish of last year’s Surf the Murph, waiting for him to recognize me and say hey.  I’m pretty sure I freaked him out.  Strangers on the trail become Ted from accounting.  I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut now, but it can get pretty embarrassing.  If I ever have the fortune to meet you on the trail some day and I greet you as a good friend, please just smile and play along.  I’ll tell you all about the snakes and turtles.

All this from a mere 50 miles.  Next year I run my first 100 miler at the Kettle Moraine, and  I am just a bit concerned as to what the next step in the delusion progression is.  My fear is that I’ll be found on the trail; dead from a series of triangular bite marks before I find out.  I think I need a plan.  The snakes would make my death a little quicker and less painful; if I can make it past the turtles that is.  Or maybe the snakes will be preoccupied with the turtles and I will be able to skip right though to the next delusion.

Man, I hope it is not clowns.

2012 North Face Endurance Challenge 50 Mile Race Report

What a great day and venue for a 50-mile trail race!  The North Face race in the Southern Kettle Moraine (they call it “Madison”) is set in beautiful Southern Wisconsin (see KM post below), along the Ice Age and Scuppernong trail systems.  This was my fourth, and supposedly last, North Face race, but I think I’m rethinking that now; I have some unfinished business.

Cutting to the chase, I ran a personal best for the course and distance, placed 28 out of 221, and won the Male 46-55 age group.  And I was greatly disappointed with my results.  What a dork, huh?  I’ll try to explain.

Pre-Race – The 50-mile race started on a star-filled, fall Saturday morning.  The temps were in the upper 40’s (perfect) and there were a ton of people.  I haven’t seen the totals, but I’ll bet there were over 200 people for the 50-mile.  The start/end area had a festival-like atmosphere with a high-energy announcer (dude, it is 4:30 in the morning) and some very eclectic music (Prince?  Really?).  Definitely more produced than the low-key trail race atmosphere we all are used to.  I kind of liked it.  It provided a dichotomy for the solace of the trail to come.

This race was a run on a pseudo-loop with 5 distinct sections.  The route was 99% trail and was a mixture of flat prairie, rolling hills, horse trails and singletrack.

Ottawa Trails (10 miles) – I started near the front again this year, and it worked out well for me, avoiding the slowing at the timing mat constriction.  All 200+ of us then ran north on Hwy 67 for less than a mile, headlamps bobbing in both directions, before we made an abrupt turn onto the wide Scuppernong trails.  We ran this first section was mainly on continuous, unremarkable rolling hills through a wooded area.  The trails intersected and looped in the dark but were very well-marked.  I had a feeling I should be careful in this section; but with such fresh legs, I felt no hills, running them all.  My breathing and legs remained strong.  I did get off-course once, but lost only a couple of minutes.  As I was getting back on course I had the opportunity to run with Adam, a fellow Navy-man from Chicago (I served in the early 90’s).  This was Adam’s first ultra, and he asked for advice.  I went on with some blather about pace and nutrition; what I should have said was “Enjoy the day Adam, set no goals other than to finish, and be pleased with that finish”.  I did see that you finished Adam.  Well done.  See you next year.

Ice Age Prairie (10 miles) – Following Aid Station-2, as the horizon was getting lighter, we got directed onto some of the greatest singletrack in the Midwest.  The Ice Age Trail is a 1000 mile Wisconsin system that is mostly singletrack, mostly hilly and mostly tranquil, and the Kettle Moraine is the best part of it.  I love this trail.  This was also the time to for me to pick up my pace to about 8:00.  There were 4 of us running this pace, and so we kept each other humming along.  After some more forest hill running, we came out onto miles of flat prairie at sunrise.  Ahhh, beautiful.  The fields were hazed with an overhanging mist, blooming with wildflowers almost to the horizon.  Time to take a deep breath and look around; gifts from God to be appreciated.  Unfortunately, this section went rather quickly due to the scenery and flat trail.  Before we knew it, it was time to get to work!  The fun was about to begin.

McMiller Hills (15 miles) – Out of Aid Station-4 we ran an out-and-back section on some rolling hills.  These hills weren’t lofty, but some were steep, and the downhills tended to be littered with loose rocks.  And the hills kept coming.  I found most runnable, though some I walked out of prudence.  In the past I tended to lose significant time in this section.  Not this year though.  My plan was to run as many of the hills as I could and keep the pace consistent at around 9:00 average pace, and I was able to do that.  Since this section was an out-and-back, we were able to see the front runners pass.  Way cool.  Ian Sharman and another front-runner flew past together.  I did give them a hoot, and Ian returned the favor.  As the runners passed, I did an unscientific count and found I was well in the top 20.  I was also on a 7 hour pace.  Yikes.  I was feeling good, and the last 10 miles of this race is where I am historically strong, so I kept the pace to see what would happen.  When I came into McMiller for the second time though, I was breathing very hard, with a high respiration.  I could not get it under control.  This happened to me at Afton last year in the heat and hills.  What the heck!  I ate a PB&J and took my second electrolyte tablet of the day (maybe I should have been taking more).  I grabbed a Gu and refilled my water bottle (maybe I should have been drinking more).  It was starting to get warm, in the low 70’s, and I did not seem to be handling that well.  And here was a first: I had to wait for a train!  Not very long, but I did enjoy the forced break in the hills.

Scuppernong Horse Trails (10 miles) – Unfortunately the hills did not stop out of McMiller.  I still was unable to catch my breath, and my heart seemed to continue its own race.  This was very frustrating because my legs felt fine.  If I could just breath I could have hammered the remainder of the hills and course.  But it was not to be, and I was losing serious time.  This portion of the race is where the 50-milers joined with 50k and relay racers.  All of a sudden, the trail was full of fresh and talkative runners.  A multi-colored trail of Lycra and smiles.  I was in no mood to talk (or smile), though I tried to be social.  I did meet Mohawk Guy, who was running the 50k at about my pace.  He had the habit of making horsey sounds with his lips on the uphills, which caused me to check my six a couple of times afraid that Seabiscuit was running up my rear.  I was also beginning to cramp up as the temperatures rose.  I never cramp.  Both calves and a quad were giving me fits.  I don’t think I handled my hydration and electrolytes well this race.  It never got above 75 degrees, but I was still feeling it.  As I was getting more discouraged with my uncontrolled respiration, I started seeing turtles.  I do that when I am really fatigued, so I did not freak out.  Weird.  Seabiscuit and I lumbered on, knowing we were almost done.

The Home Stretch (5 miles) – Once the flats started, it was time to pound out a sub 7-minute pace.  But I couldn’t.  I was left to stumble the remainder of the race, with my breathing and heart rate still not in control.  My legs were in great shape, but I could do nothing with them.  Is this a bonk?  I’m not sure what that definition is.  There were a lot of runners on the course that day, but it never seemed like too many.  I continued on with a mixture of 50-mile, 50k and relay runners.  After the final hill, were back onto the pavement of Hwy 67.  I was very glad to be done with this race so I might breath again!

I crossed the finish line in 8:27.  This was a good time compared to my previous races.  It was a PR and an age group win.  But.  I was capable of so much more.  And that is where my lies my disappointment.  I knew I had a sub-8 hr race in my legs, and possibly a top ten finish.  My respiration just would not cooperate.  I had trained harder than ever, with more mileage, stair lunges and core work, and so I expected much better results.  A friend suggested that my respiration issues were classic signs of dehydration.  I did lose almost 10 lbs on the race.  If this is my issue, then I can easily remedy it: drink more.  Duh.  I can try this at my next race: Surf the Murph in October.  See you there!

Sunrise to Sunset Race Report: A Mongolian Advenure

This race report has been provided by Mary, who recently returned from a very unique adventure in the landlocked Asian country Mongolia.  She graciously offered this race report.

 

Why would a person go to Mongolia to run a marathon?  To a country farther away than the Great Wall in China?  Here's why I went.

At least five years ago a running friend told me that he had run this amazing race called the Sunrise to Sunset marathon and 100K in Mongolia ( aka MS2S ).  I checked out the website, was impressed with what the race stood for and determined that I would do it some day.  In the meantime, I managed to run a marathon in Australia and Antarctica and so decided it was time to do the last two continents I had left. Mongolia qualified as the marathon in Asia.

MS2S is more than just a race. It is a cross cultural experience in one of the most pristine parts of the world. It begins at Toilogt camp along the shores of Lake Hovsgol, one of the deepest freshwater lakes in the world, and continues into mountains surrounding the southwestern section of the lake. The run is on single track trails, many of which are used only by horses as well as gravelly roads which are not used that frequently.

The participants gather at Camp Toilogt 3-4 days before the race to acclimatize and for the race organizers (who come from Germany, Switzerland and Shanghai) to execute the event with the help of Erke, the very capable Mongolian camp manager. We stayed in "gers", which are the round movable homes, covered with felt made from sheep fur. These have been the traditional homes of the Mongolian herders/nomads for centuries. You may know the gers as yurts. That is the Russian term for gers. Each ger sleeps 3-4 people. The beds are wooden framed with a comfortable mattress. There is a stove and chimney in the middle of each ger. We were able to have 2 fires a day. The fires were started by camp staff. These fires keep the gers very warm at night-sometimes almost too warm.

To participate in the event it is mandatory to carry an emergency kit which contains rain gear, an emergency blanket, a compass, a whistle, a map of the course, a chocolate bar, an ace bandage, a flashlight or headlamp, water disinfecting tablets, a notepad/pen and 2 small plastic bags, and 1.5 litres of water.  Some of these emergency supplies were provided by the race organizers.  A couple days prior to the race the medical director gave a detailed lecture on accident/injury prevention. He informed the group that in the 14 years of the race there has never been a medical emergency. Each runner was required to fill out a very brief medical history and the medical director reviewed this with each runner as well as their current weight and blood pressure. It was essential to have an excellent prevention program since the area was so remote and there were no medical resources or emergency facilities closer than a four hour drive.

The runners and their families, which totaled about 70, were a very international group representing about 20 countries, in addition to a number of expats who were living mostly in Asian countries. Some of the runners had lots of experience running ultras, but there were a few who were running their first marathon and several also running their first ultra. This was quite a choice for a first marathon. There are many races in Asia and the 100K distance is quite standard, so that is probably one reason for the choice of this distance in addition to the marathon or 42K distance.

Since I was traveling alone I had many opportunities to get to know the runners and enjoyed my conversations with runners from Norway, Switzerland, Zimbabwe, Singapore, Malaysia, Japan, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, the US and a few other countries. There were runners who studied the event with extreme intensity and were familiar with all the energy drinks, supplements, compression garments as well as some of the "newbies" who had never even worn their backpack/hydration pack until the day of the race. Some runners brought their families since there were opportunities for many activities, such as horseback riding, kayaking, swimming in the freezing cold lake, fishing and mountain biking.

Some of the runners helped mark the course. The day before the race was aid station orientation. Some family members or friends had signed up to help as volunteers to assist the local Mongolians who have been helping put this event on for the visitors/runners for 14 years. It was quite interesting to observe as the camp manager and the race directors reviewed locations and supplies to go to the aid stations. It was a wonderful demonstration of foreigners working with indigenous people to put on an event in their community. It was also helpful to have some English speaking people at the aid stations in case we ran into difficulties. Since the aid stations were so far apart, they were a very welcome sight when we finally got to them.

 

One of the highlights of the days prior to the race was a slide show put on by one of the runners. Marc has done all but one M2MS and has also done many hundreds of miles of biking in the Gobi desert and other parts of Mongolia. His slide show could easily be a documentary on its own. The story of his biking in the Gobi desert was quite unusual. He has biked in Mongolia in the winter as well as summer, so has seen the contrast in the seasons which are quite extreme. The other activity that was unique was the music and dancing program which some of the young staff put on for us the evening before the race. Most of them were kitchen staff so we had seen them as waitresses or cooks. After they served us dinner, they changed into their clan costumes and performed a wonderful array of singing, dancing and musical instrument playing that is typical of the local area. The most unique performance was that of "throat singing" which is singing like I have never heard before. Here is a short movie of what it sounds like: LINK.  This program was an excellent distraction from the pre-race nerves that some runners most likely be had.

The race started at 4:30 AM, so wake up call was at 3:00. Breakfast was provided and we had to check in with the race director to show that we had all our emergency supplies. There was much anticipation at the start. The morning was much warmer than expected. All of us were hoping that it wouldn't rain, since we had had almost a daily shower or downpour each day before the race. The race began on a single track trail through a lovely wooded area just beyond the camp and slightly away from the lake. It was hilly enough that the mid pack runners were taking it easy and the back of the packers were walking. The race is perfectly timed because almost all runners were able to see the sun rise over the lake as we were ascending the first long climb, which is 5 KM and an ascent of over 2250 ft. This climb starts at the first aid station which is at 12 KM into the race. The hill was long and gradual and felt like it would never end. After several false summits we arrived at our turn-off from the road which was indicated by a lone horse. There was a green marker there also, but the horse was the giveaway.

The steep decent at this point was so rocky and steep that it was impossible to make up much time going downhill. Following the steep downhill there was a lengthy run along a river, which in the past has been overflowing and the trail has been very muddy. We were lucky this year as this trail was quite dry and grassy, which made the footing a little difficult, but much better than running in mud so deep you could lose your shoe (as in other years.) This area was well marked but since I was running alone, I kept thinking I must be lost because it was taking so long. I had neglected to check at which points the aid stations were!!! So finally when I arrived at the 25.5 KM point I was extremely relieved to find that I had not been lost and that this was the last real aid station. I enjoyed the potatoes, salt and other things they had for us to eat and was on my way.

The 3rd section of the course was by far the most scenic and really quite difficult; even though the climb was not as steep as the first climb; only about 1400 ft. in 4 KM, but about half the trail was a horse trail through very dense forest and the footing was not always very good. It was a little creepy being alone and one had to pay close attention to the markings because it was very easy to go off the trail. Upon arrival at the top I felt like the race was basically over, but then I noticed the extreme downhill. By now I had caught up to a few runners and they were going down the meadow trail quite gingerly. I'm sure the lead runners just flew down this section. At the bottom of the wild flower-filled hillside was the last water stop which was operated by a Mongolian father and his two sons who had come by horseback with the water and then hauled the water the last portion on a motorcycle. (the young son is in the picture with me). This was the section where I was able to get some quite lovely pictures of wild flowers which were in full bloom in the meadow section.

At this point it was only 10K to the finish and it felt like the race was over. This last section was all gravel road with lots of rocks and rolling hills. By now it had also become quite warm and humid, so this added to the challenge. But knowing that I was close to the end I picked up the pace and passed a few runners who had been ahead of me for most of the race. The finish is a short mile around the pond around which we had done some horseback riding and kayaking, so it was quite familiar. And you could see the finish line for at least a mile before getting there. However the cheering of the few spectators was very inspiring. Crossing the finish line was a rather moving experience for me, since it was the culmination of a dream which I had all those years ago. And the mother of the winning woman who is also a nurse and about my age cheered me across the finish and said I had set a good example for "old women". 

The winners of the open female division were 2 young American women who were in the Peace Corp in Mongolia. Neither had run a marathon before and both arrived at the camp the day before the race with family/friends in tow to be their cheering section. They finished the race in a respectable time of 6:16 and crossed the finish line together. The male finisher was a Mongolian who trained with a team in a town about a 4 hour drive away.

The 100K open division was a sweep by the Swiss. A course record was set by Florian, whose 26th birthday was the day of the race. It also just happened to be the Swiss nationally holiday. The women's winner, Vivienne, qualified for Boston this past May in Burlington, VT, but she had never run an ultra. She lives in Shanghai, so didn't do much hill training. She was recruited by one of the race directors and I'm sure he could tell she had the determination to finish an event like this. There were only 3 women who finished the 100K this year.

It was fun to be at the finish, in spite of the rain, which started around dinner time. There were long gaps between finishers, but especially after dusk it was fun to look for the flashlights bobbing along and speculating who the next finisher would be. The last runner finished in 18:10 with a big smile on his face. This is a little past sunset, but the rules are that if a person passes the last aid station at a certain time they are allowed to finish. This finisher was a Japanese man with an interesting story. He started running about 10 years ago when his Dr. told him he was a candidate for a heard attack. He started on a low fat diet and took up running. Within 6 months he had lost 30 lbs and was really enjoying running. He has not looked back since then and was extremely proud to finish his first 100K. He just happens to be 62 years old.

The finisher's t-shirt was cotton, which is chosen to save costs so that more of the profits from the race can be contributed to several projects in the community. But I'm sure it is the only shirt you will ever see with the Mongolian script on the back. It is one that I will always cherish because of the fond memories of all the interesting people I met and the awesome scenery along the course.

Running the Kettle Moraine

There are few places in the Upper Midwest where you can trail run for miles without seeing a road (at least one with cars); where the sounds of nature overcome those of mankind and the trails are well maintained.  The North Shore in Minnesota and Pictured Rocks in the UP come to mind.  It seems that to truly get away we need to travel to the bumpy lands where the food chain is in question.  Though I have not logged mountain running time, I expect this is true.  In the Midwest, we take what we can get.

Well I know a place where the getting is good.  I’d like to share with you a gem of a running location: the Kettle Moraine State Forest.  This singletrack wonderland in SE Wisconsin is broken into two regions: the Southern and Northern units.  You can’t go wrong with either section.

The best trail through both locations is the Ice Age Trail.  This is a 1000 mile route that traces the maximum extent of the most recent ice sheet to cover Wisconsin about 20,000 years ago.  Reminders of this event were left behind in the form of glacial features that left the land rugged, rocky and dramatic.  Here is a quick primer on those glacial features:

Kettles – The leading edge of the glacier acted as a bulldozer, creating a frontal till.  Blocks of ice were left buried in the till in the glacier’s retreat, which melted, leaving behind circular depressions in the land; some 200 feet deep.  Lakes typically form in these depressions.

Moraines – The glacier moved material in two main methods: material lifted and carried along, and material bulldozed in the frontal till.  This material left behind upon the glacier’s retreat created hills almost 350 feet in height.

Drumlins – As the glacier retreated, the land eroded into the vacated area, forming conical or parabolic hills.  These hills actually point in the direction of the retreating glacier.

Kames – Streams formed on top of the glacier, which sometime broke through to the land surface below.  Sand and gravel carried by the stream were deposited below, forming conical hills.

Eskers – Cracks formed in the glacier, allowing sand and gravel to drop to the land surface below.  Narrow ridges were formed at these locations.

The results are dramatic and beautiful.

The Northern Unit is located about 45 minutes north of Milwaukee and encompasses about 30 miles of the Ice Age trail, with 132 total trail miles.  The trails through this section are mostly wooded with very well-maintained singletrack.  My favorite trailhead is located on Cty Hwy H, just south of Kewaskum.  Heading north from this location we are treated with rolling hills and nice views.  The sounds of mankind recede along this section.

The Southern Unit is located about 35 miles southwest of Milwaukee and encompasses another 30 miles of the Ice Age Trail with 160 total trail miles.  There is significant prairie in this section, which the DNR is working to restore to its past extent.  This area will eventually be the largest prairie east of the Mississippi.   The scenery is beautiful and just a little flatter the Northern section.  My favorite trailhead is located along Hwy 67 and Road X.  Head north for the woods and hills, or south to the prairies.

Here are a few races held in the Kettle Moraine that take full advantage of the trails and scenery:

• North Face Endurance Challenge
• Kettle Moraine 100
• Lapham Peak Colorama 10k
• Ice Age Trail 50
• Glacial Trail 50
• Blog from those that live and run here:  Lapham Peak Trail Runners

I recently returned from a vacation with my family, staying at my sister’s place in the Southern Unit.  Morning after morning and mile after mile of the Ice Age Trail.  Sublime.  Good for the soul.  I also had the opportunity to introduce trail running to my 11 year-old son.  What kid doesn’t like to run in the woods?  (See previous post)  We had a blast together.

Which brings me to my next big step: my first 100 miler.  I’ve run the North Face 50 mile in the Southern Unit many times before.  The Kettle Moraine 100 looms next June!

Running a Family

The other day my 14 year-old daughter felt the need to pull me aside for a serious heart-to-heart before things got out of hand.  “Dad, I don’t want to run.”  She was trying to break it to me easy, afraid she would hurt my feelings.  I was taken aback.  Do I really put that much pressure on my family to take part in my personal addiction?

My wife Beth and I are raising four children between the ages of 11 and 20, and so far no one has shown a desire to try running as a sport.  Worthless Dog won’t even last to the mailbox.  I admit, I would be pleased as punch if one of my kids became a runner, but I sure hope I am not putting emotional pressure on them with the 5k registrations and invitations for a quick run; especially the younger, more impressionable ones.  How does one encourage children in running, in a healthy way?

If my children choose to read books and play, I am OK with that.  I am a firm believer though, in a life balance between the intellectual, spiritual and physical.  My children seem to have a firm grounding in the first two, but I worry about the third.  Is it because I take my sport to such extremes (in my children’s eyes) that I may actually be discouraging them?  If I were merely a jogger, would they be jogging with me?  Their equating anything physically uncomfortable as “bad” worries me.

What I do not want to encourage in my children is the mantra of discomfort avoidance.  How do I teach my children that great things in life can be accomplished if you are willing to suffer a bit?  I see kids with a lot of physical drive, accomplishing remarkable things in sports.  How were they motivated to gut out hill repeats?  What role did Taylor Phinney’s or Dakota Jones’ parents take in encouraging their children?

I can only hope that, by my example, I am planting seeds for later on in life; that they are not ready yet for a commitment to the physical.

Which brings me to my youngest.  My 11 year-old boy is a natural runner.  In play, I cannot catch him if he doesn’t want me to.  He can go from rest to 6:30 pace in nothing flat, with a smile on his face, on technical terrain, with beautiful form.  He also desperately wants to please me.  I am afraid that if he takes up running, it would be for the wrong reasons, and then hate it for the rest of his life.  But I so would love to encourage him in running a bit more competitively.  How young is too young for this?

So here is my plan:  Worthless Dog is within a few years of the great yummy bistro in the sky.  If I get Replacement Dog, of a breed conducive to distance running, and make my boy responsible for its upkeep and health...  A dog needs to run, right?  Wish me luck!

Afton Trail Run 2012 50k Race Report - Mary

Dave had a fabulous run. His report is just great. Sounds like he really got inspired after last year's debacle, which wasn't entirely due to his inadequate training. I was at the finish last year and it was a very hard course and it was very hot. They had lots of DNFs and even more folks complaining. Ask Dave M. too.

Dave, you did a great job of describing the course and the condition of the trails and the perfect day for the race. Since I'm the "historian" for that race-it's true that when we first started it, the weather was almost always coolish. And there was one year where we had exactly the same conditions as last week. Perhaps it only made it to 95 degrees rather than closer to 100, but it was bloody hot all week. We were scrambling to buy ice in Woodbury, etc. Anyway the day of the race, it was like a miracle. And that's what happened last weekend. It was actually cool at the start this year. I was almost wishing for a long sleeved shirt as we waited for the start.

My story is that I went in to the race thinking that I would only run 25K, but since I was registered for the 50K, I'd take the early start and get it over with. I started out with Wally and saw a few folks I know from the trail running community, although there aren't many anymore. Everyone is way younger than I am. The trails were in great shape and by the time I got to the first aid station things felt good and I decided that if I could make the cut-off for the first loop I'd stick it out for the second. I'll admit there was a woman who I kept leap frogging with, who appeared to be in my age group (50+). She is tall and really tackles the uphills. As Dave said, the volunteers at the aid stations were absolutely amazing. This younger trail running community is quite an inspiration and John Storkamp deserves a lot of credit for his leadership. It was fun to see Dave's wife, Beth at the major aid station.

So I made it with over 30 minutes to spare, where I had to make the decision to continue or drop. To be truthful, by then I had made the decision that I did not want to be listed as a DNF. Mike Reneau from Hudson, who some of you may know, told me he'd wait for me, so I figured "go for it". The "tall girl" wasted no time at the aid stations and was long gone by the time Mike reassured me.

As is always the case for me in the longer trail runs, it is usually a pretty solitary experience. But the aid stations are closer together at Afton, so that keeps a person going. And early in the second loop, Jan O'Brien, who became a fabulous trail runner and has of late worked the first aid station, introduced me as "the pioneer of trail ultras for women in MN". I'm not sure she's right, but it was a very nice compliment and really kept me going. I guess it was the weather and the trail conditions, but the second loop went really well too. The time seemed to not be an issue at this point and I even was looking at my watch to consider if I could break 8 hours, which is about my average for this course. 

It wasn't until I had about 4 miles left to go that I saw tall girl again. Since we hadn't leap frogged in the second loop I was leery to pass her again, but she was running with someone else and busy in conversation so I passed, figuring she'd pass me on the last hill. After a potty stop at the nice new bathrooms, the folks at the last aid station cheered me in up the hill and gave the best encouragement of the day. Dave's favorite section (not mine) was in much drier condition by this point and the last few miles seemed to fly by. I passed Jim Baillargeion, from Sommerset, with two miles to go. He was very encouraging. The finish line was a very welcome sight and my time was 7:26. And I beat the tall girl by 2 minutes. BTW, she has a name-it's Linda Frank and she's from Hudson. She's a newbie at the 50K, in her 50s, and has lots of potential. 

Next year is the 20th anniversary of ATR and if any of you are even thinking about doing a trail run, I would recommend this one. It's not easy-the hills are steep and seem unending, but there are points in between the hills that are very runnable. It's a nice introduction to trail running and the trail running community. And the design of the shirts is very unique. Thanks Dave, for an explanation of the design. I had no idea.

This weekend is the Voyageurs trail run, which has been modified and not even a full marathon, but they say harder. That's my last training run before I leave for Mongolia.  Is anyone interested in meeting for a beer at Whiteys' before I leave on July 25th?