Road vs.Trail Marathon: It's a Mental Thing

Leading Ladies Logo

I am smack in the middle of my taper for a road marathon I am doing a week from Sunday, August 19th.  It is called Leading Ladies and is an all women's  marathon in Spearfish, S.D. If you have been following the blog, you may be saying, "So what's the big deal? Isn't this like marathon number five or something for you this year?" The answer is yes it is, but there is a big difference here. This is a road marathon.

To say that a road marathon and a trail marathon are alike because they are both running 26.2 is like saying that an ostrich and a hummingbird are alike because they are both birds.  The mentality and approach is completely different.

A road run is all about time. It is about goal times and pace per mile and hitting splits. This 

is especially true because the purpose of running this marathon for me is to get a BQ time (a qualifying time for the Boston Marathon).  This type of run requires focus, concentration, and continuous internal monitoring.  I often run my road marathons on courses in beautiful locations, such as the canyon I will be running down in South Dakota next weekend, or the similar canyons I have run down in Utah or in the desert of Arizona. However, unless I drive the course the day before, I won't notice much of it.  My focus has to be on the race itself and my splits. If I start thinking "Oh look, that is really pretty," the next thing I know, I have slowed down and slipped off the pace that must be maintained for that BQ time.  In addition, road running carries with it the chance of  "failure."  To not get the BQ time will be a "failure," because there is a clearly defined goal that must be met.

A trail run is about responding to the experience and working with the course. When running a trail marathon, time and pace are incidental in some ways. The terrain determines the pace per mile more than any self-imposed idea of what the pace "should" be. Of course, most trail runners have an idea of their overall goal pace, but there is no pressure to maintain even splits as one is hiking steep slopes, slogging through mud, or picking one's way through toe-snagging roots. Focus is required in many cases in a trail run, especially if the footing is technical, but it is an external focus, and there is often time also just to appreciate the beauty of the experience itself.  I will often take time in a trail run to appreciate the view. That is not to say that I am not competitive in a trail race or that I don't care about my time.  It is just that trail races are more often framed in terms of a "good race" or a "bad race," rather than in terms of success or failure.

Thus, given those two paradigms, perhaps you can see why I am having a case of pre-race jitters. I mean tapering is always bad enough, but the added pressure of a road marathon is something that I have not experienced for a while. Plus, I have not had a successful road marathon since 2005.  I attempted one last year but had a DNF because of a knee problem at 19 miles.  Granted, when I quit, I was on pace for a solid BQ time, but the road to Boston Marathon Heaven is paved with the hopes of runners who say "I was on BQ pace until mile..." 

Thankfully, what I hope will save me for this marathon (and keep me from becoming a complete mental wreck) is the trip itself.  What I didn't mention before is that I am not in this venture alone! I am taking three of my favorite "leading ladies" on this adventure with me: Leslie (my trusty partner in ridiculousness), Janet  (you might remember her from the Martian Marathon post ), and a new friend, Linda, who has already endeared herself to me by making me this most awesome pillow case for our racing/camping adventure. Mine is covered with runners! 

The Leading Ladies: Leslie, Linda, Janet, and me

Besides the marathon itself, I am attending a writing workshop the day before the race (the race director, Elaine Doll-Nunn, is a writer), and we are planning a side trip to Mt. Rushmore on the way up. Plus this will be Janet's first time "camping," and even though we are "camping" in camping cabins, that is sure to be an adventure as well.  The trip is 1150 miles, each way,  so  there will be many opportunities for ridiculousness.  We leave on Thursday.  I hope you will follow along...

Race Report: Keyes Peak Trail Marathon

In keeping with my training plan of running a trail marathon as a last long training run two to three weeks before my DWD 50ks, last weekend I ran the Keyes Peak Trail Marathon in preparation for my upcoming 50k at Dances with Dirt Devil's Lake in July. I chose this marathon for three reasons:. I had never been to Michigan's Upper Peninsula and wanted to see the beautiful scenery; it is in the Trail Runner Trophy Series; and it had a river crossing, which I had never done in a race before.

I had researched the race in advance and had read race reports. One report talked about mud, hills, ticks, and a river crossing. Sounded like a lot of fun to me!! Well, truthfully, I wasn't that excited about the ticks, but I bought an industrial sized bottle of bug spray with DEET and was ready to go. The race was also an environmentally aware race. All racers were required to carry bottles, and no paper cups would be used on the course. In addition, it was an automatic disqualification to be observed dropping any litter on the course. I was totally on board with that and thought this was a wonderful way to run a trail race.

As we made our way up and across the Mackinac Bridge the weather was perfect, sunny and beautiful. The water was beautiful shades of turquoise and blues. However, as we headed out the 2 and got closer to the MI/WI border, it was looking dark and cloudy. Finally we had a bit of a downpour. Yikes. I was worrying then about the condition of the trails and the water level in the river. On a previous year the river crossing had to be canceled because conditions were too treacherous for the runners to cross.

By the time we got to Keyes Peak, the storm had mostly passed. As we were driving down the road looking for the campground we were staying at, I saw a sign that said Keyes Peak Ski Resort. That was the starting line and packet pick-up. Then just about 300 ft. down the road was the entrance to our campground. What great luck!! The campground I had booked us at was literally next door to the race start!

We checked into our cute little cabin and headed over to packet pick-up. It is a small race, less than 300 runners total in the three races (50k, marathon, 10k). Packet pickup was a small affair. No big race expo here. What was here, though, was an incredibly friendly race director and staff. The race director was so nice that he even took groups of people outside to explain the course and to answer any questions. You could tell how much he cared about the race and that his main concern was a great experience for all runners.

Most people had questions about the river crossing. He explained that there were two options: swim across or cross with a rope. The water this year would be about "waist deep" and very doable. There would also be a guy there to help with the crossing. Some people looked a little worried. I thought it sounded like loads of fun.

"No Nonsense" arm warmers

The race start time was 7 am. I suddenly decided that it was going to be cooler than I expected at start time. I was expecting lower 60s, but they were now saying low to mid 50s. That is a little chilly for me standing around at the start. I decided I would need arm warmers. A quick check of my running bag revealed that the arm warmers were back in MI. It was off to town to find a Walgreens for a pair of knee socks to become improvised arm warmers. I thought they turned out pretty good for the $1.99 I had to invest in them. I thought the "No Nonsense" brand logo was fitting as a mantra for the challenge ahead.

Race morning was an unusual one for me. Because we were so close to the start and the race was so small, there was no need to get to the race early. Even with the 7 am. start time, I was able to sleep until 5:30 and still get to the race with plenty of time to spare, even with stopping for three applications of bug spray. (I was very serious about avoiding ticks).My improvised arm warmers worked well to keep me warm waiting for the start, but by start time, it had already warmed up to the upper 50s, so I ditched them before I headed out. 

The group at the start for the 50k/marathon was probably around 100. The start was the typical low-key ultra start, with the race director saying something like "Ready. Go!"  We sped, jogged, or hobbled off the start line. The race was at a ski resort. The finish was down the ski hill, but the start went up a dirt road that paralleled the slope. It was a pretty good hill with just enough mud to make it interesting. It was similar to the start at Gnaw Bone, only not as long and not as muddy.

Once we hit the top of the hill and got to the ridge, we began about 6 miles of mostly downhill, some of it pretty steep. This suited me fine. I love downhill running and ate up this part of the course (including one mile split of 7:40 -- what was I thinking??). As I was doing it, though, I was not naive enough to think that I would not have to pay. Southern Michigan around where I live has no place to train for a sustained 3 or 4 mile downhill stretch. My quads were not prepared well for this type of pounding, and I knew there would be big pain in the future. I put that thought to the back of my mind, though, and decided to take maximum advantage of the parts of the course that played to my strengths.

The course itself was not what I expected. It was almost entirely on dirt roads, with very little of the single track that I love so much. On the positive side, the footing on the dirt roads was very good, and unlike some roads, these were very flat and easy to run on. It would be a good course for a road runner, not used to technical trails. The scenery was also beautiful, lots of trees and greenery, and lots of shade, which became important as the morning progressed. In general, I was cruising along and having a pretty good time.

Along about mile 13, though, things turned not so fun for me. First of all, the second half of the course is predominantly uphill, which is never fun for me. It was also warming up, which for me is not a horrible thing, but when mixed with uphills just adds to the overall discomfort level. However, my real problem was the nausea. Despite having taken S-Caps religiously from the first hour on, I was having waves of nausea. There is nothing quite like being nauseous, hot, and climbing a hill, knowing that there are still 10 more miles of hills to go. It made me cranky.

On top of that, I was hungry, but there was a little battle going on between my brain and my stomach. The conversation went something like this:

Brain: "If you want to avoid a total shutdown here you better send us some more of those carbs."

Stomach: "If you send us any more of that gooey, sweet stuff, we are sending it right back out!"

I went through this almost continually for miles. I had a lot of time to think about it too because there were some really hellacious hills in this section. The worst hills on the course tended to be right after the aid stations. One of them was so steep I wondered whether vehicles could really make it up.   

The one bright spot on the horizon was the river crossing. For the marathoners, this is between mile 18 and 19. As we approached there was a volunteer there asking us whether we were doing the swim or run option and yelling it out for the volunteers on the river. I took the run option, which meant crossing with the rope. There was a volunteer to help me down the steep bank to the water and another to help with the crossing. The guy on the rope was awesome, giving really helpful advice and letting runners know where the big rocks and deep spots were. The water was moving fast in the middle and up to chest deep for me. I got knocked off my feet one time, but had a good hold on the rope so did not go under. Mostly the water just felt really good and the crossing was fun. That one experience was worth the trip.

This is not me. It is a representative picture of the river crossing from  Running  in the USA.

After the river crossing was an aid station. I was not changing shoes, but I did need to do something about my nausea. I had Gatorade in my hydration pack and decided that I might be better off with just water, S caps, and gels. I had pretty much drained the pack by then, so I had a volunteer refill it with water. She was so sweet. She filled it with the pack on my back, which I was very thankful for. I didn't want to take it off since it had taken me about three miles of fiddling to get it to sit just right.  

The water in the pack helped a bit, but I was still nauseous in those final miles. I was cheered a bit by realizing that it looked like I was going to break 5 hours, but it was not a guarantee at the rate I was moving by then (mostly a walk). There are some really cruel hills in the race between miles 22 and 24. Things were not going well.  I got passed by the only woman I had seen since about mile 7 of the race. She was very sweet and tried to encourage me to run with her to the end, but I was in my own private hell at that time and was not able to rally and join her, especially when we hit some runnable (for her) uphill. At about that time, I realized that I could break 4:45 if I picked it up just a bit, so I tried to pull myself together for one last push to the finish.

Me with my bottle of syrup

I was so happy when I finally started to get glimpses of the lake, ski lodge, and finish line through the trees. The finish was down a big ski hill which was fine for me. My legs could handle one more downhill with the finish in sight. I finished with a 4:34:35, which was a new trail marathon PR for me. I was also 6th woman overall, but only 3rd in my age group. The age group award was a bottle of Wisconsin maple syrup, which was cool. I also really liked the finishers medal, which was wooden and hanging from a piece of twine.

The finish line treats appeared to have been homemade, and the whole race had a really homey, small town feel. I would have enjoyed it a lot more, though, if I had not been in so much pain. My legs were not ready for the amount of continuous downhill and made that very clear to me when I stopped. I was in more pain after this race than even the Gnaw Bone 50k. Still it was a great experience and will be good training for the Leading Ladies Marathon which is also a downhill course.  

Friendly Volunteer!

All in all, it was a good experience.  It is a well run, well marked race. The race director is a nice guy who cares a lot about the event and the runners. The course is pretty and very runnable, good for those just switching from road to trails. It did not have enough single track to suit my preferences, but probably others were thankful not to have to deal with technical trails. I did not run into any of the dreaded ticks mentioned in other race reports you might see online. The river crossing was a fun element for me. The volunteers on the course were excellent and very friendly. 

Friendly Crew at the Last Aid Station

It is exactly the type of low key race that makes me love trail and ultra running. The experience was definitely worth the trip. 

Race Report: Trail Marathon

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."  -- T.S. Eliot

I ran the Trail Marathon in Pinckney, MI this weekend. It was an iffy proposition because my IT band had still not healed all the way. After the bad day at the Martian Half Marathon two weeks ago, where I had to quit at 5.75 miles, I was not hopeful about making it through the marathon on this tough course. It is a hilly course, mostly on the Potawatomi trail, but I really did need to get a long run in if I hope to successfully complete the Dances With Dirt Gnaw Bone 50k in two weeks (one of my four key races in pursuit of my Bloodied, Boned, Bruised, and Burned belt buckle).

I was saved in this race by my friend Janet, who recommended that I get some Rock Tape. I credit much of my ability to get through this race to the wonderful therapy I have been getting from Dr. Tom and the magic of the Rock Tape (which I will be reviewing in my post later this week).  I wrapped my knee up as directed with Rock Tape the night before and was hoping for the best come race time.

It was a beautiful but cold morning in Pinckney. The forecast had said 36 and sunny at start time. They were part right. It was sunny but a very chilly 26 degrees,  with 50s forecasted for the afternoon. I was already grumpy because it was so dang early, but this made me even more grumpy. What to wear? I had planned tights, a short sleeve top, sleeves, and gloves, but that was going to be nowhere near enough. Thankfully I had grabbed an extra long sleeve on the way out of the house and had a lightweight vest in my bag. I ended up with tights, long sleeve, light vest, hydration pack, and gloves. I probably could have done without the light vest, but I was glad to have it on as we waited for the start. I had brought a friend, Nicole, who was running her first 50k. She had brought no warm gear and had on shorts, a tank, and sleeves. I felt sorry for her at the start, but she was happy at the end of the race.

I found some of my RUT (Running Fit Ultra Team) friends to hang out with at the start. As I said, it was a beautiful sunrise, with steam rising off the lake. Randy, Running Fit's head goat, started the race. We went out in waves of about 50 people each, self-selected, with about 30 seconds between groups, with Randy saying "Go" for each of the waves. It was chip timing, so it was a pretty informal start.

We ran across the grass and started the "conga line" that happens at the start of every trail race where groups of people have to sort themselves out on the single track. Thankfully, there was a road crossing and a slight road stretch at about a half mile that helped in case runners had not seeded themselves correctly. At least where I was running the sorting out seemed to be a pretty orderly process, not the half marathon the previous year.

I started out at a very comfortable pace. I was purposefully avoiding looking at my watch and just concentrating on running relaxed and easy. As I said, for me this was a training run rather than a race, so I was just out there to put miles on the legs, hopefully for as long as I could before my leg made me stop. I was afraid I might only get 8 to 10 miles, but was hoping that if I had a good day I could make at least 20 of running till I had to stop and then walking the rest of the way in. My plan from the start was to walk the uphills, run the flats and downs.

The marathon course is a 13.1 mile loop (the half course) which runners do twice. I had vague memories of the course from doing the half last year. Mostly what I remembered was that there were some really hellacious hills in the middle of the course. The first four miles or so went by really pleasantly. The trail was in excellent condition. It was damp, but not muddy, and pretty much free of debris. The course was rolling, and I was having a good time staying focused and relaxed.

The real work for me began somewhere around mile five, with the first of several fairly steep hills. I got passed by quite a few people on the uphills, like always, but because I was not racing, I was able to keep a good attitude about it. I passed some of them back on the down hills, like always. Downhills are my thing. 

Miles five through nine were kind of tense ones for me. I figured that if the knee was going to start acting up, this would be the place. However, the anxiety was broken up by the high point of the race for me, visiting my friend Paula at Aid Station Ernie at 6.5 miles. Because I was just messing around and didn't even really expect to finish the race, I sat down for a  minute or two to shoot the breeze with Paula and try to cajole her into a running road trip I am planning for later this summer. Finally I decided I better get going and took off again, much refreshed.

There were some pretty hilly parts between miles 6.5 and the next aid station at 9.5. I was starting to flag a bit so decided to take some gel. Unfortunately my gel was so cold that I could hardly get any out of the flask. It was irritating. I decided I better start using Gatorade at the aid stations for some calories. I had a no calorie electrolyte drink in my hydration pack to go with the gels. If I wasn't going to be able to get the gels steadily, I was going to need calories from the Gatorade. 

I pulled into the last aid station of the loop and was delighted to find another of my RUT team members, Jan, who is recovering from a serious calf injury. Again, I spent a few minutes catching up before heading on down the trail. The last segment of trail is one of my favorites. It has ample amounts of downhill at regular intervals, with a few walking breaks for uphills. I started feeling good after getting some Gatorade in, and I managed to pass some people in the last mile or so of the first loop. Still, my knee started to feel a little "funny" on the last steep downhill, and I still had my doubts about finishing.

Jan (great as a volunteer
but hope he is running soon)

When I came past the start/finish at the end of the first loop, it was really warming up. I got rid of the lightweight vest, told Jer that I was feeling good enough to keep going, that the Rock Tape seemed to be working, but that I didn't know if the knee would last or not.  I told him it might be a while because I was still expecting to walk in.

As I went out of the start/finish on the grass, my knee was a little twingy. I was happy to get back on the dirt trail. Soon the Gatorade kicked in again, and I started to feel good. I was cruising along at this point with a smile on my face.  I was surprised to be feeling so good, especially with the lack of long runs. The uphill walks gave me time to recover and be able to keep a good pace on the flats and downs. I was surprised to start passing people on the second loop. I don't think that my running time had slowed that much, but my time was slower because I walked a few of the smaller hills on the second loop that I had run on the first.

I find that if I am going to have hills, I would rather have a loop course. I knew what was ahead of me hill-wise on the second loop and was mentally prepared. I struggled less mentally with the hills on the second loop than the first.

Me with Paula and Ernie

I cruised into Aid Station Ernie for the second time, got a picture with Paula, drank about five cups of Gatorade and headed out. I glanced at my watch and could not believe my time. For all the messing around I was doing, it looked like I could still be under 5:30. That cheered me up. As I was heading out of the aid station, on the first hill, some guy passed me and said "You look like you are hot." I still had on my gloves (mostly to wipe my nose) and a long sleeve. He said, "I got rid of my long sleeve at the last aid station."  Thanks guy. I had not been hot until that point, but suddenly I was overheated. I took off my gloves and stuffed them in my belt, shoved my sleeves up a little higher, and kept going. I couldn't take off my top because I wasn't willing to risk the chafing from the vest I had at Green Swamp.

Just before the last aid station, I ran into my RUT friends Kai and Farra. I was amazed to see them because they are WAY faster than I am, but Farra was struggling some with her IT band. (In true Farra fashion, though, she still managed to pull off an age group win in the 50k).  I was also starting to feel a little nauseous and knew I needed an electrolyte capsule. I had been sweating pretty heavily in the long sleeve. We hung out together to the aid station. Once there, I popped an electrolyte capsule and ate a handful of trail mix. We talked to Jan for a while and then headed out. Leaving the aid station I was feeling pretty good, with my favorite section of the course coming up.

Farra and Kai

I was cruising along at about 23 miles when I got my first calf twinge. I should have known it was going to happen. I had waited too long with the Endurolyte and was behind on electrolytes. This put a bit of a cramp in my style (pardon the pun) for the last few miles. I could still run downhills, but anything that had the slightest uphill had to be walked to keep my calves from seizing up. Normally this would stress me out, but since I was doing so much better than I had expected and realized that I was going to finish sub 5:30, even if I walked, that I didn't care.

In the last mile to the finish I was able to pick it up. I passed 4 people, including a 16 year old guy doing his first marathon that I had been playing leapfrog with all day. He actually finished ahead of me in the results, though, because we had started in different waves. I finished feeling better than I ever have after a marathon. I was completely shocked to get handed an age group award, a nice coffee mug, at the finish line. I never in my wildest dreams thought that the day would result in an age group award, but I ended up second to a fellow RUT member, Ellen. 

Nicole and her new friend Lisa

After I finished, I waited for Nicole to come around on the second lap on the way to her first 50k. They did two loops plus an extra five mile loop at the end. I was really happy to see she had found someone to run with and looked like she was doing great. I headed back to the car to get warm and took a quick nap before going out to watch her finish. I got back to the finish just as she was crossing the line. We were all delighted to find out that both she and her new friend she was running with had won age group awards.

This marathon was a completely different experience for me, much more relaxed and a lot of fun. I love trail running, but on race day I am usually so stressed out with racing and trying to do everything I can to run a good time that I don't always enjoy the race. I am definitely going to reflect on this and take this insight with me going forward. I need to find the happy medium where I am racing but also enjoying the experience as well.