University of Okoboji Marathon

Who's racing this thing?

I had to find a marathon that fit two criteria.  It had to work with my running and vacation schedule and it had to be a Boston Marathon qualifier.  I needed a BQ because I missed Boston this year, and I was happy to miss it, but not happy why I missed it (see 'The Worst Running Injury Ever').  And the only time that worked for me was mid-July, definitely not the nicest time of year for a fast race.  So I found the University of Okoboji marathon in central Iowa.

This was an odd race run in conjunction with a triathlon, half marathon and 10k.  The marathon being the first event to start, at 6AM, though they did have an early 5AM start that wasn't publicized.  I would gladly have taken that, except that I'd eaten too late and had no idea what the course markings were going to be.  Did I mention that there were only 85 people signed up for the race?  Given those stats I wouldn't be able to follow anyone during the race either.  Just before the start I asked the RD what the course markings were, since it was an open course, and he just said follow the map on the back of my bib.

Huh?

My bib is pinned to my shorts and the map was so small to be essentially useless.  Thanks dude.  Fortunately, the course was very well marked with white arrows through all the turns and guiding you through intersections you ran right through.  Of course I found all this out after the run started.

Anyway, it was pretty warm at the start, but overcast, and the 80 of us that didn't start early lined up and the gun went off.   I was running in just a hat, shorts with 3 gels, and my new Pearl Izumi emotions.  The overcast weather was a huge boon, and while it was warm, it never got uncomfortable.  Right off the start a couple of guys took off really fast, and I found myself running behind a, um, chubby dude.  Now I'm not the fastest marathoner, but I was looking at the guy and thinking: 'really?'  Fortunately for my self esteem, he dropped back and I found myself in 3rd, where I'd remain for most of the race.

I lost track of the two leaders and never saw the #1 guy again, other than on his way back after turning around 3 miles in.  So I ran the entire race alone, without headphones, which I really missed.  Now, my plan was to run straight 7 minute miles so I could have the -10 minute early registration for Boston, but my gps was dead at the start and I didn't have time to get my other watch from the car.  This was good and bad.  Every mile was clearly marked, so it would have been easy to get on a pace, but running this hard by feel was a different story.

Out to the turnaround at three miles, then back and all the way around the lake.  It was surprisingly built up, and there was very little wild land to run through.  There were aid stations every couple of miles with water and energy drink, usually staffed by a couple of helpful volunteers.  Since I wasn't running with anyone, I kind of made it my mission to pick off all the early starters, and I got the first one about 5 miles in.  I'd say his prospects for a finish were dim.  Since there were only 5 or so they were pretty easy to spot.  Ultimately I picked off the last one somewhere around the halfway point.

I cruised around having no idea what my time was, until finally around mile 23 a fan said I was only a couple minutes back from 2nd place.  I caught up to him a little while later and we chatted for a minute and he said he went out way too hard.  I got ahead of him for about half a mile, but when we hit the 25 mile marker he took off, and I couldn't even try to match him since my legs felt like lead.

Ultimately I made the final turn to the finish and saw the clock hit 2:59:50, with 100 yards to go.  Crap, or yeah?  There's no way I could slip in under 3 hours, but a 3 minute PR, at 3:00:12.  If my GPS had been working I would have run too slow to get this low, but I think if I had economized better I would have gone under easily.  But, I walked with 3rd place and 1st masters.  Not bad for a marathon.

Bighorn 100

I was really looking forward to running Bighorn for a couple of reasons.  It had been nine months since my last 100 at Sawtooth and I'd be heading out there with my friend Jeff, and it's been a while since we've road-tripped.  He'd be running the 50-mile and his buddy Denny was also coming along to help crew.  We started our drive on Wednesday after work and headed out to Chamberlain, SD to camp for the night, then did the rest of the drive to Sheridan on Thursday.  We set up camp quick, then headed in to packet pickup for me where I got weighed and walked off with a ton of swag.  Seriously, this was about the most gear I've gotten at a race before.  Afterwards we just bummed around Sheridan and I watched these guys drink while I had Arnie Palmers.  My HURT 100 pal Ben met up with us for a few minutes as well, and we made plans to start out together and see where it went.

Getting the jump on Kaburaki

 

Jeff and Denny drove Ben, Tim Parr, and another of their friends and I to the start.  We'd had a quick prerace meeting at 9AM, then followed the caravan 4 miles up the Tongue River Canyon to the start.  We got to hang out here for about an hour in the hot sun before being prompted to queue up.  I like to start a couple rows back from the start, but for some reason, Ben and I found ourselves at the very front, ahead of eventual winner Tsuyoshi Kaburaki.  He also used to be the masters record holder at Western States.  Yeah...we were letting him go by.  After the national anthem the 160 or so starters were sent on our way for a full day and night in the mountains.

I settled in with Ben for the mile of road before we hit the single-track.  The field spread out nicely and I got into a nice steady rhythm.  I liked it when the lead pack finally got out of sight so I didn't feel that pressure to keep up.  It didn't take much running before we were at Lower Sheep Camp, which we breezed through after I dumped out their freshly cut pineapple on the ground.  Then the real climbing started.  Nearly four miles of steady upward ascent with precious little running to be had.  It was beautiful though, huge vistas of alpine meadow and runners winding off into the distance both ahead and behind.  Ben was climbing pretty strong and I just hung on.  I could feel the altitude and was worried about the toll it was going to take on me.  Here I was only 5 miles into it and my legs felt heavy.  That feeling never really progressed much, but I was to feel down nearly the whole way up to Jaws.

Eventually cresting the top of this big climb there was a steep downhill into Upper Sheep Camp, then a fair amount of traversing the hillside to the road which lead to the first big aid station, Dry Fork.  I was just behind Ben, the lead gal, and another guy as we pulled in.  Jeff and Denny were here with all my stuff layed out for me.  Jeff filled my water bottles while Denny got my gels squared away with me, and I was off down the road.  They helped Ben out and he was soon off behind me.  The road to Cow Camp was runnable the whole way, and as Ben slowly caught up I chatted with a guy from Missouri.  Cow Camp, we had been told, had packed in 40 lbs of Bacon, and I could smell it from a mile out.  Getting there I quickly filled water and walked out with a couple of pieces of that smoked goodness.

Here we had a beautiful 7 miles to Bear Camp.  Much of this section was running through big fields of Wild Flowers which were simply stunning.  Mostly yellow, but also with brilliant patches of blue lupine.  I'm really glad I got to see this, since it was dark coming back.  Ben and I cruised this section and rolled into Bear which was a horse packed in Aid Station in a beautiful setting.  From here it was just 3.5 miles to the next big AS, Foot Bridge, but also 2600 feet of decent.  We'd take the down hill pretty easy, running, but not bombing, as we had been the others.  I could run them a lot faster, but was being careful to save the quads for the trip back, particularly for that final downhill to the road which was a good 5 miles long.  In any case, this was a fast decent and we were crossing the bridge to cheers.  The AS crew here were on the spot and had our drop bags to us quickly.  It was still early, but we'd need headlamps, just in case (our next bags were 18 miles away), and jackets.  After a quick weigh in we were off on what was essentially a 4200' 18 mile long climb.

Ascent to Jaws

 

The next 18 miles were pretty much a persistent uphill.  Most of it was a gentle grade and just runnable enough to make you question whether or not you should be walking.  A lot of this I was really hating life.  It was beautiful out, clear skies, nice scenery, warm enough, but I just felt gassed and struggling.  There were times here where I was questioning whether I had the mental strength to do the whole thing.  It really helped having Ben near (he was going through his own issues).  We spent a lot of quiet time for the hours it took to climb, sometimes me in the lead with him struggling along behind and other times flipped around.  Hitting Elk Camp, the last AS before Jaws was kind of a turn around point.  It got really muddy, unavoidably so, and the mental challenge of getting through it took my mind off my discomfort with the altitude.  Upward we pushed until finally we got onto some level ground in time to see the leader charging back towards us, then 10 minutes later Kaburaki following.

Finally after 10:10 on the go...Jaws.  The tent was heated and I was ushered inside and presented with my drop bag by eager volunteers from the local cross country team.  These kids were amped and really fun to have there.  One girl asked me how it felt to be halfway done...I told her half way was closer to 70 miles.  I had three different medical people ask me if I'd gone to the bathroom recently and all were concerned that it had been a couple hours, but I assured them this wasn't my first time at the rodeo and I was solid.  Lights and jacket on and I was out the door.

Going down down down down

 

Now was an awesome 18 mile downhill back to Foot Bridge.  This was fun in part because it was easy, no more sucking wind, and a very pleasant grade, but I got to see a lot of people coming up the hill.  Ben and I picked up the pace and started cruising down the hill making good time.  Everyone coming up was awesome and stepped out of the trail to let us through.  There were plenty of 'good jobs' for everyone going up and for us too.  I was really surprised at the number of folks without headlamps since it got dark shortly after we left Jaws.  That was going to seriously slow down those folks, but a good learning experience I suppose.  Otherwise this long decent was pretty uneventful, other than Ben's headlamp not working (2 for 2 on that now with running with him, I'll bring a third for him next time).

We rocked into Foot Bridge and spent about 10 minutes cleaning our feet and changing shoes.  It was about 2 AM and we definitely took too much time poking around here in our middle of the night lethargy.  There was some carnage here too, I saw four people in chairs, wrapped in blankets and catatonic.  I didn't want to be near that.  So after getting suited up again, I was getting cold fast, we crossed the bridge and hit the wall.  OK not literally, the wall is what the locals call the upcoming 2600 foot climb in about 2.5 miles, with another mile of level ground to Bear Camp.  Just before starting the climb Ben jammed his toe and sat down to deal with it.  We were both a little punchy and he told me to go on and run my race and I just left.  Fortunately he caught up to me a ways up the climb and we were able to go on together.  On the way up the climb, still by myself, I caught the lead woman who looked really bad, and should probably have turned around.

Well, after Ben caught up we went through bear camp, in about 1:15 from Foot Bridge, and through those awesome, but now dark meadows.  I kept talking to him about going under 24 and we just had to keep under 15 minute miles, but Ben was having nothing to do with it.  Too much climbing left, he said, too far.  But we had the same race plan, run everything flat and downhill, no matter how much it sucks.  Hell, we were still able to run gentle uphills.  We got close to Cow Camp (bacon central) and could see the lights of Dry Fork way off in the distance.  Now, too, the East sky was not quite so dark.  Clearing Cow Camp we were on jeep road and ran nearly everything on it, for the 7 miles, except the steeper uphills, including the last one leading to Dry Fork, which was a big long hill.  It was really cold out, below freezing (all the plants were frosted up) with a wind right in our faces.

Hitting Dry Fork I was frozen and really tired.  We stood still for a five minutes swapping gear, and I'm glad the AS guys didn't see how woozy I was.  I felt punch drunk leaving.  Ben was starting to smell the barn (17.5 miles away) but was now thinking about that sub 24 which was looking really good.  We marched up the road, with a few folks closing behind us, and got into some traversing ground and started banging out 10 minute miles on the way to upper sheep.  There were only two more climbs and they were both steep, but not really long.  Having a fire lit under us we cruised through upper sheep, just refilling water crossed a small bridge and did the last climb.  Bam, just like that we had miles and miles of downhilling.

It seemed like for everyone we passed we got passed by someone else.  Some of these guys we climbed faster than, but they nikked us on the downs.  But we hammered it out, running for time (besides, they were all younger than us, and no AG threat).  It seemed like forever, but we hit Lower Sheep and pretty much ran right through it, with them telling us 2.2 to the road and 5 more to the end.  Yee-haw.  Now we ran everything no matter how sucky it was.  After about 20 minutes we popped out on the road, through the last AS and started beating it out.  Right as we left, Denny came up on his bike and rode in with us.  That was awesome, having him there.

We all chatted the whole way in, which seemed forever.  I thought the road would have some down on it, but it was dead flat or uphill, and even at 8:30 AM was pretty warm.  I can't imagine what it was going to be like in a few hours.  Ben's feet were hurting, so I just chatted up a storm and we kept running.  At long last we saw the turn onto the highway, which meant about a 1/4 mile to go.  So Denny road on ahead to the finish and Ben and I amped it up cruising through the park and finally across the line.  22:23:50 after starting it off together we finished with the same time, tied for 9th and 2nd in the Masters division.  Yes it was:

Ok, we didn't sing and dance.  I think there was more sitting on the ground and letting my legs and stomach get their hate on for a while.

Bighorn is a great race, very well organized and avid volunteers.  There was a post race barbeque with free food and live music, which I unfortunately missed a lot of, and the awards pancake breakfast in Sheridan was simply awesome.  If the Hardrock and Western lottos don't pan out for me next year, I will definitely go back.

Miwok - The shortened version

The shortened version applies both the the race, which was cut from 60 miles to 38, and the length of this posting because the race happened over a month ago.

This was to be a big race for me.  Normally it would have simply been a nice season opener, but this year it was less than three months after having a foot of intestine removed and recovering for 6 weeks with no running.  Going into this I only had one month of training on the legs.  I was excited to finally get back to running a big event and nervous that I was ready for the distance.  Miwok would be a gut check race, literally and figuratively.

I met up with young pups Christi Nowak and Ethan Richards at the airport.  We were flying out and staying together before the race, then they were continuing on with a week of vacation afterwards, while I rushed home to get back to work.  It was a pretty uneventful trip out to warm sunny San Franscisco and we chatted much of the way out, everyone excited about the trip.  Once we landed and picked up the car we headed out over the Golden Gate Bridge into the Marin Headlands and our hotel.  By the time we got settled in it was getting kind of late, so we hit the grocery store right near the hotel and picked up a bunch of food from the deli, along with the first of two 1lb bags of M&Ms we'd dominate.

We pretty much spent the next few hours squaring away our drop bags and clothes for the next morning, since we'd have to get up at 3AM to do the half hour drive to checking, and ready ourselves for the 5AM start.  The weather was looking good, if a little warm, but hey, that's part of why we came down here.

After doing my best to sleep, I was still up before the alarm with pre-race jitters.  Fortunately I had some entertainment listening to Christi talk in her sleep.  Slowly, though Ethan and Christi both woke up and we were all on hour phones checking the weather out.  The hotel was packed with other runners and we could here them milling about and heading out to their cars.  We got our stuff in order and had what breakfast goodies were to be had and headed out to hit the road.  Finding the race start was pretty easy since the only other folks on the road were runners also headed down to Destin Beach.

After we had parked down at the beach we joined the train of people headed up to the check-in, only to find out that due to fire danger (no actual fires) that the start parks had all closed and were permitting no visitors.  The race was being cut down to 38 miles and the start time pushed back 3 hours (as well as check-in).  At first it felt like I'd just blown a lot of money to fly down here for a non-race.  There were a lot of disappointed people milling about.  Being too much driving to go back to the hotel and rest, we just headed back down to the car to sit and try to grab another hour or two of sleep.  After making it about an hour (Ethan was long gone, ADD child that he is), Christi and I headed up to the the starting area where we found Ethan and all hung out chatting with others while slowly more and more runners started showing up.  I even got to see Susan Donnelly (I think she races every race every year), Clifton, and speedster John Maas sister.

Finally, after all the hoopla we were all ushered outside (it was chilly!) and up to the starting line.  The start was a quick down hill for about 50 yards then nothing but climbing for the next several miles.  Ethan took off ahead and Christi and I settled in and climbed together.  Slowly, but surely, we made it to the top, ascending through moss covered red woods and up into the rolling prairies of the headlands.  Before long I was by myself and working my way up and down up and down.  The aid stations were well stocked and manned by experienced volunteers.  They helped get me in and out very quickly.

The day quickly warmed up and became a cooker, at least for those of us from the north where spring was refusing to show up.  Eventually I made it to BridgeView with it's great view of the Golden Gate, and the farthest point out on the course, and headed for home.  There was still some of the biggest climbing to come, at least the longest, but then three miles of downhill to the finish.  Finally making it to the last big climb, about 1500 feet in three miles, I was really feeling the distance and heat.  It was at just a grade that it was hard to decide whether to run or walk.  Hitting the last aid station I took off down the hill for the last few miles to the finish.  Looking over my shoulder I saw Christi come in to the AS just a minute behind me.  Fortunately I had the legs left to fully bomb the hill, and about half way down I came upon Ethan pulling himself up off the ground.  I gave him a hand up and some water since he was out and cramping up.  Not needing any further help I went on and finished a few minutes later in 6:08:25 for 24th guy and only Darcy Africa ahead of me for the gals.  Ethan showed up 4 minutes later with Christi just 3 minutes after that to claim second for the women.

This was a very fun run, and I'd love to go back for the full 100k.  It felt good to make it through with no issues from my surgery and still be able to get a pretty reasonable time.

The Worst Running Injury Ever

Cecal Volvulus is a new word in my vocabulary that will always make me cringe in pain.  It's not a common injury, thought it's occurrence has been higher in runners than non-runners and I've seen records going back to The New England Journal of Medicine in 1985.  There aren't any warning signs and nothing to check for to see if you've got it.  What it is, is a twisting of the cecal valve which joins the large and small intestine and prohibits the passage of any more material into the large intestine.  If it goes on long enough gangrene can set in and a rupture of the small intestine can occur, polluting the abdominal cavity.  It is, as you can imagine, excruciatingly painful.

The expedition of pain started for me the evening of Monday, February 18th.  Around 5 P.M. I was running home from work and had just a touch of indigestion.  Nothing unusual, just a little stomach upset.  Amy and I had a normal dinner and a drink and nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, though the indigestion was still there.  We were in bed around 10 and I slept soundly until 11, when I woke up with noticeably more discomfort.  At this point it felt like food poisoning, and I kept expecting the usual 'passing' of waste, but nothing was happening.  I was up and down from bed several times and was even browsing on my phone for symptoms of appendicitis, since what I had now seemed similar to what Amy suffered through with that several years ago.  By 2 A.M. I'd had enough and woke Amy.

She drove me down to what was an empty emergency room at Fairview Riverside.  It was an uncomfortable ride, but I was still in control of myself and managed to walk in and start getting checked out.  I was here for three hours with an IV in my arm and some mild pain medications that seemed to be doing the trick.  Over this time I had a CT scan and and ultrasound, neither of which showed my appendix nor the torsion in my intestine.  This coupled with the location of my pain, in the area just below my navel, and the fact that I had had bowel movements during the previous day led the doctors to feel that it was probably just a bad stomach virus and I was sent home with a bottle of hydrocodone, a pretty solid pain pill.  I was actually a little relived that it was just a bug, and I could get back to things in a few days.  Some home we went, me to the couch and Amy to bed, so she could get some rest and I could toss and turn.

I didn't get a lot of rest, and around 10 A.M. Wednesday morning, I was nauseous and having massive stomach cramps.  I soon started having massive heaves, throwing up everything I'd eaten in the last half a day, and hard enough that I had a bloody nose.  I was curled up on the floor moaning and crying out for Amy and eventually worked my way over to the other side of the house where she could hear me.  There was absolutely no question we'd be going back to the ER.  So, around 11AM we were back at Fairview Riverside.

I was soon changed and back on a table, this time on my left side, since it was the only position I was remotely comfortable, and with an IV back in giving me .4MG/hour of some kind of narcotic (I sure remember those numbers).  Around here I really lost track of time as the pain increased.  I'm not sure how long I was in the ER, but I had one long episode of throwing up while talking to the doctor.  While they double checked the CT scan and still didn't see anything they were concerned enough to want me to stay for a while.  So an ambulance transport was arranged for me to be moved over to University of Minnesota Medical Center on the East bank for observation.  I had it together enough to get off the bed and onto the gurney myself since it was only a few feet.  Amy was left to drive herself over.  I can only imagine what she was going through at this point.

As I was in my new room at UMMC I didn't look at anything other than the wall.  Occasionally someone would come in and want to palpate my stomach, often enough that I was getting pissed off.  Yes the pain was still there, no it hadn't moved, why don't you talk to the last person that did this.  One doctor even put me through that several times.  Part of the problem was that each time I rolled from my side to my back, then to my side again, it took many minutes for the pain to squelch enough that it was tolerable.  The plan, as I understood it, was to take blood from me again in the morning (since they already had for my second ER visit) and if there were still problems have a surgical consult somewhere around 6AM.

The only problem for me is the pain meds were no longer doing anything, and I was beginning to moan and groan non-stop, occasionally yelling, except for the times where I'd pass out for a few minutes.  They have a 0 to 10 pain scale you are supposed to rate your pain on and I repeatedly was saying 9, 9, 9.  I remember quite vividly regularly clawing at the air just trying to grasp at something and sometimes staring in terror into Amy's eyes and begging her to make it stop.  This went on for a long time, but I can't really say the exact time since it was basically a black pit for me.  Sometime during the evening nurse Andrew came on duty and started going to bat for me.  He gave me a some extra checks to see if it was simply bad constipation (if only) and got my pain meds bumped up to 1mg/hr.  Sadly even at that level it wasn't doing anything.

He eventually got the powers that be to get a surgical consult in immediately since the medication and other obvious checks weren't doing anything, and my pain kept increasing.  Clearly, he said, there is something really wrong with this guy.  Amy had been telling them that I handle pain really well, and if I'm screaming then it has to be really bad.

So it was, around 2AM, the anesthesiologist came up to my room to help get me prepped to move and I was soon being wheeled down to the OR.  I didn't really care what they did, I just wanted to be put under.  Amy and I waited outside the OR while she held my hand and I wailed on, the only relief being that I knew I'd soon be unconscious.  The plan was that they would do an exploratory laproscopic surgery (insert a camera and have a look around) then deal with whatever it was when they came to it.  I asked Amy to call my parents when I went in.  The surgeon, Dr. Harmon, came over and introduced himself putting a gentle hand on me, and I was soon wheeled off into the OR.

They had me roll onto my back, then transferred me from the cot to the operating table and strapped my arms down and put a mask on my face.  The last thing I said to them was that I had a really low resting pulse and I'd probably set off their alarms (as I had been all day).  Then I was out.

Some time later I groggily came to in a recovery room, with a nurse attending to me.  I pretty much had no idea what had happened, but she chatted to me and let me know where I was and that my parents and Amy were waiting for me.  After she made sure I was coming around OK, I was wheeled up to a recovery room, which is where I first saw Amy and my parents from inside my fog.  A few nurses moved me to my bed and got me hooked up to all kinds of devices, and we all sat and stared at each-other.  And like it had started, Amy holding my hand.

I later learned that I had cecal volvulus, which they found pretty quickly with the laproscopy.  Unfortunately the only way to deal with this was to open me up with a 10 inch incision starting about 1 inch above my navel and going downwards.  Then removing about 5cm of small intestine, the cecal valve, and the vertical section of my large intestine, for about a foot total.  That includes my appendix as well.  Full recovery, 6-8 weeks.  Right now, my stomach is tender and sore, but nowhere near the pain I had been feeling.

What it looked like before.  The purple blob is the choked off small intestine.  Courtesy of www.stanford.edu.

The after, with the cecal valve and ascending lower intestine removed. Courtesy of eyewitnessanimations.medicalillustration.com

The Western States Lottery

The entry criteria has been a bit of a sore point with me over the last couple of years, as most of my friends know, from frequent discussions about it. But it is what it is. The first time I entered the lottery it was off of a 50-mile qualifier (North Face Endurance Challenge Madison 2009) and I happened to get picked. I had entered because I knew I had little chance of getting in and I wanted to start building up my tickets. Oops, there is that slim chance of it happening. So I went to my first States not having run a hundred before which left a big question mark over me for whether I could cover the distance in under 30 hours or not. I took a risk, potentially taking a spot in the race from someone who did have the cred to make the cutoffs. Fortunately I made it.

 Since then the lottery has gotten bigger and bigger, and only a small change to the entry criteria has been made and that was going from allowing any 50-mile or 100-mile as a qualifier to needing to run one from an approved list. Mainly this got rid of the road ultras which is a baby step. Given the availability of 100-milers I would get rid of the 50-mile qualifier (which I think at 11 hours is pretty soft) and require a 100-miler be run before you can get into the lottery. As a pie in the sky, I'd even require that whatever 100-miler is being used as the qualifier be run in a time proportionate to a 30-hour time at Western (realendurance.com provides a good calculation for that).

So lets take a look at how pared down that would make our own small set of Minnesota entrants, currently standing at 33.  (I'd love to analyze the whole list of lottery entrants, but I'd need access to the raw data since I'm not going to look them all up by hand.)

33 - Current Entrants
22 - Removing those with 50-miler qualifiers (11 of them)
15 - Further removing those who's 100-miler qualifiers didn't match RealEndurance.com's relative 30-hour finish time.  I rounded my values for this up to the next hour to keep it simple.

Assuming that this rate holds across all of the 2302 entrants, applying my changes would yield some promising changes to the odds.

2302 - Current entrants
1535 - Those with 100 mile qualifiers
1046 - Those with a 'fast enough' 100 miler

Still not super odds, but way better than what we've been seeing.  Granted my 'fast enough 100-miler' qualifier might be tough to implement, but getting rid of the 50-miler would be an excellent start.  Given how hard it is go get into Western, I don't think it's out of the question for them to shoot for a 100% finish rate and gear the lottery towards ensuring that.  I think it would be very interesting to see if the finish rate changes significantly on simply requiring a 100-miler qualifier.

Cheers, and for those that do get picked on the 8th.  Train hard, and do everything you can to ensure you get that buckle.

Nerstrand Big Woods Half Marathon

I just finished a half-marathon in Nerstrand-Big Woods State Park. This was a delightful event starting at a small country church (complete with old church ladies and a bake sale) winding through the park, and finishing back at the church. This race has been around for quite a while and was very well organized.

They day itself was cloudy and drizzly, but the temperature was perfect. Check-in was well organized, and my packet even had a little orange tag on it indicating I had won a door prize, some wild raspberry jam. With ample port-a-potties present I made use of them and stashed my gear in the car. It was cool enough out that a warm up jog was necessary, besides the fact that I wanted to be able to start pretty hard. Just prior to the 9AM start we all sang the national anthem in our quiet shy Minnesota voices, with a trumpet accompaniment. Then all the 10Kers and half marathoners lined up.

There was a quick 3-2-1 then go and we all started off for the first 1.5 miles of road before getting to the park. The start felt great and over the first mile I picked it up and started really moving. Of course it was slightly down hill with a strong wind at our backs. I'm glad I didn't think about what the return trip was going to be like (very unpleasant). I moved pretty far up the field on the way to the park as I realized a lot of folks were not taking advantage of the hill and wind. After about 10-minutes we hit the dirt of Nerstrand and started the fun trail running. I quickly linked up with Jonah, a triathlete from the south west corner of the state. We ran pretty much the entire park section together, sometimes separating one way or the other, but never out of site, and chatting for much of the first half, until we both stated feeling the effort.

It was fun winding around and after we separated from the 10K field it was pretty quiet, but there were a few points where we linked back up again and there was some company. The course was impossible to get lost on, with well flagged corners and marshals out at all the confusing turns. And with 4 aid stations, plenty of opportunity for re-hydration. It was really motivating linking up with the 10K the first time and really passing them easily. It's fun to have rabbits out in front of you.

The trail itself dished up some delightfully steep up and down hills interspersed with mostly wide runnable trail. All in all, it was not very technical, but the steep downhilling provided ample opportunity for a good crash (which I managed to avoid). Shortly after the midpoint there was a lollypop section, and on the way back there was a lot of half-marathoners outbound. Another good pick-me-up section where we all cheered each-other on.

Around 10-miles I gapped Jonah at an aid station, which I ran through, and I think he grabbed a drink. And I managed to keep him behind me the rest of the way. After some more fast trail I hit the road, and started beating it towards the church. As soon as I turned the corner for the mile long straightaway I could see the steeple, and all of a sudden felt like I was standing still. The headwind was nothing short of abusive. I was beating it for all I was worth and probably running a minute per mile slower than without the wind and hill. I managed to get it done, though in 1:29:52 and 3rd place. I was pretty pleased for not having really trained hard for it.

The post race was excellent, with the aforementioned little old church ladies serving soup, cookies, bread and coffee. A perfect warm up on a chilly day.

Props to Amy Clark, whom I headed down there with, and who pulled a fine age group victory in 1:49:29.

Superior Sawtooth 100 - 2012

It's not often that the perfect storm happens for a race: the weather is perfect, you show up well rested, well trained, and almost no problems during the race.  This year's version of Sawtooth was all of those for me, serving up a special performance despite a painful shin injury at mile 85.  I punched the clock in 22:41:02 and getting the sweetheart prize for second two years in a row.

A mellow start...

The start delivered perfect weather, upper 50's, sunny and dry.  I like not having any concerns about what to wear.  Amy and I camped out the night before, and though I didn't sleep well, I'd had enough.  I was up at 5 for some breakfast, then back in bed for a bit before suiting up for the day.  We got to the start just as my parents and brother were getting out of their car.  Last year on this same day my brother was in the hospital in a really bad way, so it was great seeing him well enough to be up at Gooseberry to share the morning with me.  He and my dad would go back to Duluth after the start, and my mom and Amy would crew me the rest of the day.

After a few minutes milling about and having a few last words with friends the crowd moved up to the start line for a few last words from John.  Then 3...2...1...and running.  I started near the front, not want to sprint off the line, and soon enough was right up with a lead pack of 5.  Steve Moore was at the front, followed by Adam St. Pierre, Ben Hian, myself, and Jim Kerby moving steadily, but at what seemed like a pretty pedestrian pace considering the talent we had here.  All the same it made me nervous, especially since I knew the kind of speed that Ben had.  Nonetheless, we all stayed together until Split Rock, where we restocked, and Steve started putting the hammer down with other Adam close behind, then Ben, with me and Jim running together.  I never saw Steve again until the finish.

For a long time, Jim and I cruised near each-other.  He was yoyoing a lot.  For about 20 miles he'd surge ahead, then come back to me, then for another 20, he'd drop off, then pull back up on me.  He was being crewed by a friend I'd made at HURT, James, who I ran a loop and then some with in the middle of the night.  It was largely uneventful steady cruising up through County Road 6, which was the last time I saw Jim.  The section getting here is pretty hard and really the first gut check of the race.  In last year's heat, this AS was like a MASH station.  This year, though, I was here an hour and 12 minutes faster than last year and feeling like I was jogging.  Amy kept on me that I was much faster than my plan, but it was one of those days where I was slapping down miles without trying and I felt really good.

Kurt, Paul, and Mike where here to meet me, and I got a good cheer coming on in, in 4th place.

Kurt having a good time

It's not often I get to this point feeling great, but I had no complaints.  I was probably as energetic as I'd ever felt this deep in...of course as 100 milers go, it was early yet.  I had plenty of time to get to Finland in daylight, I can't imagine that a lot of people have to do part of this stretch to County 6 in the dark.  I was pretty fortunate to see the views from Sawmill Creek Dome and the upcoming Section 13 in full daylight.

I got into Finland after the better part of 8 miles and started getting suited up for night running.  I did a quick shirt change while I was at it, put my headlamps on, and headed out with Kurt for the next 12 miles.

Off into the twilight

To rule the night...

After last year's night time pursuit of John Horns (I made up an hour and twenty on him) I got kind of a reputation.  We'd find out soon enough if it was justified.  I was 12 minutes back from Ben, and more than half an hour back from Adam St. P.  I just kept telling myself, run your race and Kurt kept reinforcing that.  Less than a minute out, Ryan Welts came blazing into Finland looking strong and fast.  A few minutes later he blew by me like I was standing still.  I was amazed, but given the rate he was moving, I was convinced that I'd see him again.  So on Kurt and I went, now in 5th.  We had a great time talking as darkness set in and midway to Crosby we turned our lights on.  The temperature stayed great in the darkness and we motored along.  As we hit some really rough sections I started dropping Kurt a little bit.  It's kind of mean, but it is really motivating when you are moving well enough to pull away from a solid experienced pacer.  But the night is mine, right?

A mile or so before Crosby I came upon a runner (Ben) standing off the trail trying to find his way.  I tried to call him back to where I was, and the trail went, but he found a little dear path up to it.  Kurt was a little ways behind me at this point, so Ben and I cruised a little bit more of the single track chatting about his past experience with rabdo, and how careful he was with hydration now.  As soon as we got to the road up to Crosby, Kurt caught back up and we rolled in together.  Matt Patten was running the joint here, and apparently cooking up a storm.  I was so focused, though, that I didn't realize he was there, even though he was cheering.

John Horns surprised me here, all suited up and ready to run with me for the long stretch to Sugarloaf, 9.5 slow miles away.  This is one of the longer, and slowest sections of the race.  I was glad to have him, and we left promptly, not seeing Ben again.  Thankfully, speedy John Maas would run with Ben for a while from here.  I also left Ryan at this aid station.

We had a good time floating along the dark single-track, occasionally hearing voices behind us.  That turned out to be Ryan and his pacer, and they soon moved by us.  No worries, it was late and we were all doing what we could.  I was going as hard as I felt I could at this point, with 40 miles to go.  This race was just getting going after all.  John really helped keep me focused, even so, this section seemed to go on forever taking more than two and a half hours to get through.  Eventually we found ourselves at Sugarloaf where Amy and mom were waiting.  I bid adieu to John and swapped in Amy for a surprise pace gig (she ran this section with me last year) and headed back out.

Unfortunately for Amy, I was on fire, and left her behind almost out of the AS.  Oops, not good to drop the wife.  I blazed this section out, and hit Cramer road, forcing my mom to do some solo crewing, then beat it out for the grind to Temperence.  I'm glad I knew this section, because it was really poorly flagged.  I would have really been questioning if I was headed the right way if I hadn't run this before.  I had passed Ryan along the way and when I got into Temperence Adam St. P was still here, having injured his knee, but still moving.  I left with the other Adam, immediately passing him, as Ryan got in.  This was the last I'd see of either of them, which is surprising since this is where my wheels fell off.

Up until know, I'd beat all my splits for the last two years.  Somewhere early on here, my right shin started hurting and got progressively worse.  Eventually getting to the point where I was really considering if I should drop or not.  I was now in second, and the machismo made me keep going.  Over these last three sections, I ran fully a half hour slower than last year's run, and I'm convinced I could have beat those times if my body had held up.  Instead, I'd spend the next four hours spending a lot of energy battling some serious pain.  These were all really runnable, too, which really hit my morale.

So, through mind numbing pain (I didn't want ibu to cover it up, just in case something snapped, but in retrospect it would have been alright), I kept pounding it out through Sawbill and onto Oberg where my TCRC teammates were.  As I rounded the lake to Oberg I came upon Brian Peterson, Paul Holovnia and one other guy out on the trail, maybe half a mile from the AS.  This picked me up and they ran me in, where Kurt and Mike Bateman were waiting with my mom and Amy.  They pumped me full of chips, potato and broth, since my stomach had been queezy.  Then Kurt tried to rub some cooling gel on my shin and at the slightest tap it hurt so much I screamed.  (If you want to worry your wife, that will do it).

OK, 7 miles to go, and 15 hours to do it before the cutoff?  I don't care how much I'm hurting.  Paul walked me out.  Yeah, walking since my shin tightened up that fast.  Then onto a slow jog.  He was only going to make sure I got moving, but ran the full way with me.  It was awesome.  He was a total trooper doing that, since I was moaning and groaning, and whining the whole time.  I'd had a lofty goal of beating 24 hours, and getting to Oberg before dawn, and totally nailed that.  We were only about a half hour from the finish when we turned off our headlamps.  So it was up the steps to Moose, across the top, down, up the switchbacks (more than I remember) then some flat running and the decent to the bridge.  Last year it was a steep decent, but some trail work made it long and gradual, which was confusing, but ended up in a pleasant surprise when we crossed the river earlier than expected.  I'd been looking behind me a lot, expecting Ryan to catch up, but I'd apparently gapped him pretty well over the last 15 miles.

Paul and I hit the road, and did a little fist bump for a job well done.  No sign of pursuit, a course PR by an hour forty, and second place.  Amy met us at the turn down to the finish, and she and Paul dropped back for me to cross the line.  Oy.  6:41 in the morning and I was spent.  There was a lot of cheering, since the marathoners were still about, but as soon as I stopped I started melting down and could barely register even the handshake from Steve.  I don't think I'd ever left that much out on the trail before.  I'd be happy with a 22:41 on any course, but on this one, I was ecstatic (at least after a nap).