Race Report: Dances with Dirt Hell 50k

The Quest for the Belt Buckle Comes to an End!

Yesterday I did the final of my four 50ks in the Bloodied, Boned, Bruised, and Burned series and got my coveted belt buckle. Each of the four 50ks was an adventure in its own right, from the injury and disaster at GreenSwamp, to the shoe-sucking mud at Gnaw Bone, to the hills and views at Devil’sLake, and the final run at Hell was no different.  

Let me sum up the race in brief:

Falls: 4

Off course: 2 times

Stream Crossings: 4 (including one .25 mile stretch of wading)

Stops to remove rocks from shoes (picked up in streams): 2

Head bumped on tree: 1 (you really only need to do this once per race)

As you might guess from these numbers, this was not my fastest 50k.

The Hell race is my “home” course, and I have done several runs in this area although not this specific course. I love the trails around Hell, and I was really looking forward to this one. However, since my marathon last month at Leading Ladies, I have not felt on my game, have not been training well, and have had a few minor annoying health problems that made me not as confident for this race as I had hoped to be. Still I felt pretty sure I could finish and get the buckle, and I knew that it would be fun (in the warped way that 50ks are) no matter what.

The turn to cooler weather in the last week or so also had me worried. I knew that the course could be a bear if there was a lot of rain, and I know how much I personally HATE cold weather. I don’t mind running in the rain – I just like a warm, tropical rain. When the forecast called for low 50s and scattered showers for the morning, I was a little concerned but knew it could have been a lot worse.

Race morning went without a hitch. The start time was 6:15 am, which is still dark. I did not have a running headlamp (I prefer to sleep when it is dark and run in the daylight), so I purchased a cheap one for $5.99 at the hardware store. It seemed plenty light enough when I tested it at home, but was not really as strong as I would have hoped for in terms of lighting the trail.  In this race the 50k and 50 Mile runners start together, with the relays following an hour or so later. There were probably around 250 of us brave and/or crazy souls milling around at the start.

Randy (race director and Head Goat) who is  the devious mind behind this foolishness of all the Dances with Dirt races, said “Go!” and we were off like a giant, glowing centipede, snaking through the campground and out onto the trails.  As I said, my light was bright enough to light the trail, but not really light enough to see well, so I was pretty tentative through the first few miles. Luckily, there were enough runners, packed tightly enough together, that through this early part of the race I almost always had enough light to be able to see.

I say “almost” because during this section I fell: three times. They were just your basic “caught my toe on a root” type of fall, but given my past experience with the ruptured spleen incident, every fall is a scary experience. Thankfully I had the good sense to get my hands out in front of me on all of these and no real damage was done, except to my pride of course.

Sunrise was beautiful! I had been aware of the increasing daylight as we were passing through a wooded section. As we approached the top of a ridge, I could see baby blue sky. As I popped out of the trees at the top, I got a better view of the magnificent pinks, oranges, and reds that were painted across the sky. It was the best part of the morning.

I thought that once the sun came up I would feel better, but I was wrong. Somewhere around mile eight, I started to feel bad. My legs started to hurt (already!!), and I just didn’t feel right. I have to tell you that it is no good to feel bad only an hour and forty-five minutes into a six and a half hour run. For a few miles, for the first time I felt a little afraid that I would not be able to finish – I felt that bad. I also got off course once in this section. I was following a group of runners (always a bad move) rather than watching the trail markers myself. That type of laziness is never a good idea. Luckily one of the leaders of the little group realized the mistake, and we got back on course quickly.

I tried to keep myself focused and motivated. I started trying to figure out what could be wrong. I was due for an electrolyte tablet at that point, so took the first of those although I really didn’t think that was the problem. The morning had been cool, and I had been sipping the electrolyte drink in my pack. I was also pretty sure that it wasn’t dehydration. That left nutrition.  Maybe that was it. I pulled out my Softflask and took some gel. I also decided that I would make sure to get some Gatorade in at the next aid station.

The miles from 10 to 15, while good running, were not that great for me. The name of this leg of the race is “This Sucks, Less?” but for me it sucked in the full measure. I was struggling the whole time. I fell again in this section. I am pretty sure that I fell into a huge bunch of poison ivy. (I will let you know in a day or so.) I also bumped my head on a tree. Yes, I did see the tree and knew it was a low branch, but I looked down to check my footing (so I wouldn’t fall again) and hit my head – hard. I almost cried it hurt so bad.

The one good thing that happened in this section of the course was that I ran into a “friend” from the earlier DWD at Green Swamp. He was struggling that day too. I think his name is John (from Indiana), and he is also 50 and was also going for the belt buckle as his project for the year. I had not seen him at Devil’s Lake and was so happy to see him and find out that he was still on track for his buckle as well!!

Finally, after I left the aid station to head out to one of the tougher sections of the course, including the Stripper Pole slide and Dirt Ladder climbs, I started to feel better. As much as I normally hate the climbs, they did not bother me too much. I was relieved to finally be feeling better. There was a lot of mud on the course at this point, and going up the hills was a slimy mess, but by then I was doing it with a smile again.

With the major climbs behind me, I started to look forward to the stream crossings. I did not know what to expect in terms of how deep they would be. It turned out that the first three were not too bad. The water was about knee deep in the first one and shin and ankle deep in the next two. It also was not as cold as I feared it might be. That just left the crossing of the River Styx into Hell proper.

This section of the course goes straight up the middle of the stream for about a quarter mile or a little more. It started out about ankle deep, but it kept getting deeper as we went. The last 50 yards or so, the water was waist deep on me. It was also pretty cold. Not to worry, I could see the way out up ahead. There at the top of the hill stood Satan, in full robed glory, yelling “Welcome to Hell. We have been waiting for you!”  I told him how delighted I was to see him there and then sat down on a bench to dump a considerable number of rocks out of my shoes before continuing on through Hell proper and the aid station there. By this time I was at mile 22.5. I don’t usually eat solid food until after mile 25 of a 50k, but I was feeling hungry and so grabbed a cup of trail mix, something I know from past experience works well for me in an ultra.

The first few miles out of Hell were difficult again. I had hoped the cool water would help my achy legs, but it did not. In fact, it seemed to tighten the muscles and ligaments around my knees. It was almost like starting over again.  I felt like I had to warm up. The problem was that although it had been sunny earlier, the sky by this time had started to darken. My wet clothes were cold, and I was a little worried about getting chilled and was relieved that there were only about 8 miles to go. In this section, I also got off course for the second time. This one was all my fault. I just ran right past a turn. It was well marked. I was just zoned out temporarily. Just as I was starting to realize that I had not seen a marker for a while, two guys came back toward me saying we were off course, so we backtracked until we found the trail again.

By the time I hit the last aid station at Silver Lake, mile 25, I was again starting to feel better. I looked for some trail mix, but they were out. I grabbed a cup of peanut M&Ms instead, started to chew, and had one of those “you aren’t swallowing this” moments. It came out of nowhere. I spit the M&Ms into the trash (Eeeewww – sorry volunteers that had to witness that) and headed out onto the trail. Thankfully I still had some gel left and squeezed a big glob of it out of the Softflask to get me through to the end.

About a mile out of the aid station, I started to feel good. I was still cold, and it had started to drizzle, but I hit the point where it feels better to keep running than it does to walk. I fell in behind a pair of guys that had passed me and tried to hang on. For a while it seemed like they would pull away, but then I just kept feeling better and better. Finally, at a spot where they stopped to walk, I decided to pass them.

That started a stretch of about four miles in which I kept passing people. I was amazed because I had spent the better part of the day, especially in those miles where I was feeling bad, being passed by everyone and their pet monkey. It felt good to be passing people. It kept raining harder and harder, and I started to get cold again, but I didn’t care because I was passing people and it was less than five miles to the finish!  If only I had felt this good earlier in the day.

I try not to look at my watch too much in ultras, and I am trying to have the attitude of “expectancy rather than expectations,” as Scott Simpson, the writer and musician who ran the writing workshop at Leading Ladies, had suggested. However, somewhere along here I looked at my watch and thought that maybe I could at least get in under 7 hours. I had already figured out that this was going to be my second worst of the four 50ks, but I was still hanging on to a thread of hope that I might get in under 7. I did not have any way to figure it out for sure, though, because I had been off course, so my Garmin may or may not have been anywhere near accurate. I just did the best I could and hoped for the best.  

Unfortunately I did not make it. My finishing time was 7:02:06, which was about a minute per mile slower than the pace I had hoped to run. The rain was coming down hard at the finish, which cut down on the finishing festivities, which was kind of a disappointment. Jerry is such a trooper! He had been waiting (and worrying) out there in the rain for about 45 minutes because he did not want to miss my finish.

I was overjoyed to find that I had placed 5^th in my age group, especially because the age group awards for this one were the coveted Dances with Dirt chairs. I also got my belt buckle. I wanted to wait for my friend John and congratulate him on the belt buckle, but it was freezing and raining and I hurt. I opted for a quick picture and a warm car instead. (John, if you are reading this – Congratulations!!!).

So, my quest for the series buckle comes to an end. It was definitely a fun experience. I wanted this year to be one of new experiences and new challenges, and the series definitely helped with that, both in the races themselves and in the trail marathons I used to train for them. To tell the truth, though, I am a little burned out. I have one more 50k to do to finish up for the year (in Pennsylvania in two weeks), but then I am going to take a break from the long ones for a while…

Maybe… Of course, there is always that 6 hour race at Bad Apple… 

Related Posts:

Race Report: Dances with Dirt Green Swamp

Race Report: Dances with Dirt Gnaw Bone

Race Report: Dances with Dirt Devil's Lake

2012 Goals: Boned, Bloodied, Burned, and Bruised

Race Report: Dances With Dirt Devil's Lake 50k

The buckle!

Last weekend was the third race in my quest to attain the Boned, Blood, Burned and Bruised belt buckle for doing the four ultras in the Dances with Dirt series. This race was in Merrimac, WI at Devil's Lake State Park. This was another road trip for me and my trusty ultra-companion, Leslie, who is my favorite running buddy because to almost any question I start with "Hey, do you wanna..." she finishes with a "Sure, what distances do they have?"  You have to love that!

The Trip:

This was another camping trip for us. Because I got a late start on the camping reservations, we were staying at Rocky Arbor State Park, just outside of Wisconsin Dells, which is a kid-friendly, tourist-trap type of town, with dozens of water parks, amusement parks, and other touristy things like duck boats, that we were not at all interested in. The race was about a 20 mile drive that took us out of the tourist scene and into a more beautiful natural area.

The drive up to Wisconsin was a huge pain. Both Google and Mapquest recommended the I90/I94 route through Chicago. Big mistake!! We sat in a traffic jam for hours. I had never been through Illinois before and was unpleasantly surprised at the tolls. Tolls alone on the trip ended up costing about $40. Are you kidding me??? I have to pay to sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic and creep through continuous road construction... Not a fan of Illinois highways.

We found the campground and got camp set up. There was camping at the DWD site, but with no electricity or showers. We opted for the more cushy state campground with hot showers and electricity to the tent to power our much-needed fans. The temps were over 90 all three days we were there, but the nights did cool off.

Packet pick-up was uneventful, but we had a really fun time driving around and taking a look at parts of the course. I had spotted some flags crossing the highway on the drive in, and when we went back, we found some of the Running Fit crew unloading the supplies for the aid stations. We followed them like a couple of stalkers, whizzing along the highway chasing their white van, and were able to scope out sections of the course in advance.  

The Stalked...

Once we had completed our reconnaissance, we headed back to town to find a place with mashed potatoes, both Leslie and my choice for pre-race carbo-loading. We found an Applebees, had double sides of potatoes each, and then headed back to camp to turn in. The race start was at 5:30 am., with a 30 minute drive to the start. With 45 minutes for coffee and the rest of the pre-race routine, that meant up at 3:30.

The race:

We rolled out early and headed out for my 5:30 am start. It was a typical low-key DWD start, with probably a few hundred people. The relays for this race were canceled, and the half marathon, which Leslie was running, did not start until 7:30. I had time for two quick trips to the Porta-Johns and then we were off. The 50 mile, 50k, and marathon started together, so there was a pretty big group at the start. I was rushing to the start from the Porta-John, so slipped under the flags toward the front of the group but did not have a good sense of where I was seeded. I did not expect to do too well in this race, given the number of hills, so did not really think it mattered much.

The first loop of the course for us was about 5 miles, up and down some ski hills by the Devil's Lake Resort where we started. I was expecting the climbs there and was pleasantly surprised that this section was not as bad as I thought it would be. Actually my biggest worry in this section was my hat. It was already starting to get hot, probably mid 70s, by the end of the loop. Besides the fact that my hat was making me hot, it would not stay put on my head and kept slipping back. If I would not have felt so strongly about littering the trail, the hat would still be up there on the ski slope. Instead, I pulled it off, tucked it in my top, and waited for the aid station at start/finish to ditch it. As I went by the aid station, I was surprised with how well the first hilly section had gone, but was dreading the next section with an even bigger climb.

The course: Yes, it really is as hilly as it looks

The next part of the course was another section of about five miles connecting us from the ski lodge area onto some really nice single track, much of which was on the Ice Age Trail, that took us over to the Devil's Lake State Park.  This was a long climb but with some runnable sections.

I did better than I thought here mainly because of the technical nature of the terrain. There were a lot of sharp rocks on the trail. I am not geologist, so I can't say much about the rocks except that they were plentiful, jutted up from the ground, and had sharp edges. This type of trail is what I love and is similar to the rocky trails I had run in the mountains of California, so it did not slow me down as bad as it did some people. On the runnable rolling and downhill sections, I know some people thought I was crazy for running as I did, but that was my strength, and I needed to take advantage of it to do well. I certainly wasn't going to be making up time on the climbs.

The aid stations on the course were nicely spaced, with some manned and with a few others unmanned but with plenty of water. It was nice to have previewed the course a bit in advance so that I had some idea of where I was headed. I got to the aid station at Steinke and someone called out "Hey, aren't you the stalker from last night!" It was one of the crew from Running Fit working the aid station. It was fun to see a familiar face.

After the aid station we began another section that included a climb. Since it was the first time I had run the course, I had no idea what to expect. As we reached the top of a climb, we merged with the half marathoners, who had by now started and were midrace. We were at about 17 miles. Suddenly, we popped out of the trees onto a ridge and the view was absolutely stunning!! We were on a rock cliff overlooking Devil's Lake below.

The view!

There were huge rocks and boulders jutting out and runners were stopping everywhere to take pictures. There was an aid station right there at the top on one of those big rocky outcroppings, and we all just were in awe of the beautiful view. Despite the climbing, I would be tempted to do the race next year, just to get to see the view again. Pictures cannot do it justice. I was so mad, though. I had dragged my cell phone along with me on this one to get pictures, but when I pulled it out, the battery had died. Isn't that how it always is? Thankfully Leslie saved the day by getting some really good shots.

After the beautiful view, things went downhill in more ways than one. We made a right turn and split off from the half marathoners and started down this long and fairly steep descent. Normally this would delight me, but about halfway down, people started passing me going in the other direction. That is when I realized that we were heading down to the "Bug Pit" aid station and a short out and back area of the course. I was going to have to go back up the ridge we were coming down. Damn! That made me pout for a little while, but soon the fun of having a nice continuous downhill took over. I was even singing at one point as I barreled down the hill, probably much to the chagrin of the runners within hearing distance.

At the bottom of the ridge we came to a meadow area that soon showed why the aid station for this portion was named "Bug Pit." Part of this section was a mowed area through the grass, but another section, in typical DWD fashion, looked like it had just been stomped down the night before. The "trail" here went through waist deep grass and weeds and was about ten inches wide. The only redeeming feature here was that the weeds had some type of flower that smelled really nice as we ran through. Unfortunately, by this time, it must have been about 10 am and about 90 degrees. There was not a bit of shade on this whole section, which led us across the fields, past an aid station (with cold wet paper towels!), across a wooden bridge to a sign in the middle of the field that said "turn around."  

Now, my "plan," if you can call it that, in these "races" had been to enjoy myself, take in the beauty of the trails, not hurt myself, and not worry about racing. Good plan -- it went right out the window as soon as I started watching people coming toward me. The 50 mile, 50k, and marathon were still on the same course, but the bibs were different colors, so we could tell what  race the people meeting us were in. As I got closer to the turnaround, I realized that I really had not seen many women with blue bibs (for the 50k).  That is when I started thinking that maybe I was doing better than I thought.  After I made the turnaround, though, I saw that there was a big group of women ranging from about 1 minute to about 3 minutes behind me and several of them were in the 50k. And, the one closest to  me looked like she could be in my age group.

I tried to pull myself together and pick it up a little. The problem was that we were soon back to the base of the big climb, never a good thing for me. Throughout the climb I kept expecting people to come by, and some guys did, but only two of the women caught me, and they were in the marathon. As I arrived at Steinke aid again, I looked up a long road behind me and did not see any women coming. I was feeling pretty good because I knew I had a good long section of downhill at the end.

Unfortunately, I did not remember that there was a rolling section and a climb before I hit that final downhill...  My legs started to rebel on me in the rolling section. They did not want to make the necessary switch from hiking the uphills to running the downs. I was slowing down. Still, I wasn't being passed and was even managing to pass a few men who were worse off than I was.

Then, on the last uphill, somewhere around mile 28 or so, one woman came flying by me, with another one not far behind. The second one was the one I had suspected might be in my age group. She slowed down for a bit to hike behind me, so I asked the question and got the dreaded answer: "How old are you?" "50." "Oh crap, me too."  I was really dreading a race to the finish, but thought with a downhill coming up, I might have had a chance. That hope was dashed about thirty seconds later when she started to run on the uphill. I rallied for about twenty futile seconds, but there was no way I could keep up with her on the climb. I spent the next  ten minutes alternately cursing the running gods and praying for the downhill to be coming soon, but by the time I got to the downhill section and took off, she was nowhere in sight.

I finished the race strong, thanks to the downhill. As I crossed the finish, the Running Fit crew volunteer with the clipboard asked the usual question about my age group so that they could hand out the age group awards at the finish line. As she wrote my name on the clipboard in second place for the 50-54 age group, I noticed there were not many other names on the board at that point. I was bummed to be second in the age group, but happy I had done well in the overall. Later I found that I was 5th place overall for the women, which really made me happy. Apparently, before I had been passed by the two women on the last climb, I had been in 3rd place overall!  That really pumped me up and made me feel like my training is starting to pay off!  

Of course, Leslie was there waiting for me after the race. She had a good time in the half marathon and had met some great new friends on the top of the ridge and gotten some great pictures. I was glad to see her because I was in a world of hurt. The combination of hard uphills and downhills, with the lifting to get over the roots and rocks, had absolutely trashed my legs. I was in serious pain. It was the close your eyes, put your head back, don't move, and try not to cry kind of post-race pain. As one of my ultra friends used to be fond of saying, "Even my hair hurt." Leslie was so good, going to the car to get me my chair, a diet Coke, my flip-flops so I could take off my soggy shoes and socks... What a great friend! 

Not a smile -- a grimace

The post-race atmosphere was typical DWD, with music, food (even some awesome portabella burgers for us veggie athletes), beer, and runners draped around the finish line in various levels of pain and stages of repose cheering in the finishers. We hung around the finish line for another hour or two, but because we didn't know anyone in the 50 miler this time, decided to head out to get a much needed shower.

All in all, this race was a great experience, despite the hills and heat. The area is absolutely beautiful. If you are a mountain goat that eats hills for breakfast, this would definitely be a great race for next year's calendar. Even if you are not a fan of hills, it is worth doing at least once, just for the view from the top of the ridge.

The bling: AG prize a DWD flashlight upper left corner

The Video:

Related Articles:
Race Report: Dances with Dirt Gnaw Bone
Race Report: Dances with Dirt Green Swamp
2012 Goals: Burned, Bloodied, Boned, and Bruised

Dances with Dirt Gnaw Bone Race Report: Redemption at Gnaw Bone!!

Packet Pickup

My second race in the four race series is in the books. Dances with Dirt Gnaw Bone turned out to be a much better experience than the Disaster at Green Swamp. In fact, I loved the Gnaw Bone course, and it has now become my favorite of the 50ks that I have run.

Camp L&L on Raccoon Ridge

Leslie and I drove up to the campground Friday night and did packet pick-up. As we were entering the campground, we could see the course marker flags popping out of the woods here and there in the park. It helped raise our excitement level. We also could not believe the mountains around there. If we have hills in Michigan, then these were definitely mountains (albeit small ones by West Coast standards, but mountains still).

Leslie at highest point

Leslie and I both have the same pre-race favorite meal of mashed potatoes, so we left packet pick-up, went to Walgreens for some Ivy Block, and then stopped at Bob Evans for some pre-race carbo loading. We ordered this dish that is basically a biscuit with mashed potatoes on top, covered with chicken noodle gravy (with thick homemade-style noodles). Oink!! We were so full walking out of there we weren't even sure we would be able to run in the morning.

The next morning, 4:30 came around extra early because the inconsiderate guys in the camp site next to us had been blaring their stereo until about 11:30 the night before. As I got out of the tent to run to the outhouse, I could see all the other DWD people in the campground by the soft glows coming from the tents.  By the time we headed to the race site, it was still dark, but Randy  (the race director) had promised in the info sheet for the race that it would be daylight by the start. I was trusting him because I had no light.

He was right. By start time the sun was starting to come up and lights were not necessary. It was a great temperature, about 50 degrees I would guess. I had chosen a sleeveless bike jersey, removable sleeves, and shorts to run in. The bike jersey was so that I would have good coverage on my back for the hydration pack and a zipper up the front (I wonder why they don't make running shirts with front zippers and back pockets -- very handy).  I did not want a repeat of the chafing disaster from Green Swamp. I also did not want a repeat of the knee disaster, so I had taped my knee up again with the trusty Rock Tape, this time in a festive pink argyle design. I was a little nervous about the knee but much encouraged by its ability to make it through the Trail Marathon two weeks ago. I felt like I had a good chance of finishing this one without a problem.

There were more people at the start than at Green Swamp. I am going to guess close to two hundred in the 50k/50 mile combined start, with I don't know how many more in the full, half marathon, 10k, and relays. They started at later times. Leslie, in the  half, did not start until 9:00, so she had a long wait from my 6:15 start. I buried myself somewhere mid-pack. I knew from the course profile that we began with a long hill climb up to the ridges where the race was run, so I was already planning a slow start.

We ran out of the start area, crossed a bridge, and were soon on the muddy horse trail that would take us to the top of the ridge. When I say mud, I am talking deep, dark, shoe-sucking mud. There was not a lot of running happening on my end through this part; between the hill itself and trying to keep my shoes dry I was moving more at a forced march pace than a run. I resisted the impulse to check the pace on my watch and pushed out of my mind the idea that this would wreak havoc with my average pace per mile. Remember, I am running with a new "savor the moment" attitude.  As we neared the top of the ridge, I appreciated the slow pace because it let me have time to notice the really pretty pink and blue sunrise that was going on around me.

Once we reached the ridge, we moved onto a single track and the fun began. The next several miles were very runnable single track, with the usual ups and downs one would expect in a trail race. By that time I was warmed up and removed the sleeves. I again appreciated the bike jersey's back pockets and stuck an arm warmer in each side and forgot about them.

The next memorable section for me was a few miles later when we were running along a ridge approaching a lake. There was heavy tree cover, but I looked to the right, down the slope, and it appeared that we were running above the clouds. I knew that we had not climbed that high, so I knew that what I was seeing had to  be water. As we came down onto the dam at the end of the lake, I realized what I had been seeing. There was a slight mist rising off the lake which had created the illusion of clouds I had seen through the trees -- very pretty.

As the early part of the race progressed, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of downhill and easy running. Although the course profile showed that there were lots of up and down,  the early miles of the race were actually very comfortable and fun for me. The course was also well marked, so I did not have a lot of worries about getting lost. I only had one moment of indecision. I had left an aid station and was on my own with no one in sight in front  of or behind me. I was padding along happy as can be when suddenly there was a pink streamer on a tree and another one off in the distance but not on any type of trail. Now in a normal trail race, I probably would not have thought twice and would have kept right on heading down the trail, but this is Dances with Dirt, and I know the race director's penchant for taking runners bushwhacking.

I headed off the trail (praying there was no poison ivy) through the brush to the pink streamer on the far tree. I stopped and did a complete 360. I could see no other pink markers except the one I had just left. I stood there trying to decide what to do. At that moment I heard runners coming down the trail, so I gave out a yell. It was three women whom I had been leap-frogging with for most of the race and a guy that had come up behind.  The women had run the course the year before, and they were sure that the course stayed on the trail at this spot. We decided to head up the trail a ways to see if we hit another trail marker. I tucked in behind them, and this started a beautiful relationship that lasted for most of the rest of the race.

Our group of four women ran together for the next many miles. I found out that one of the women was in my age group, one was 55-59, and that the other was in her 20s and had never run farther than a marathon before. They were running a perfect pace for me, and although I usually don't like to run in a group, I really did enjoy their company in this race. They liked to stay longer in the aid stations than I did, so I would usually leave ahead of them and they would catch me on the next big uphill (I am improving, but I do still suck on the hills).

On one of the times when I was alone after an aid station, probably somewhere around mile 13, I was passed by a 50 mile guy. As we were chatting, I made the observation that the hills were not as bad as I thought they would be. He laughed and told me that the second half of the course was much harder than the first. I appreciated the  heads-up and spent the next mile or so wondering what I was in for, but then remembered my new attitude and decided I would enjoy those hills when I came to them.

I will tell you that no words were ever more true than those. The second half of the course was definitely a bear.  As we pulled out of the aid station somewhere around 18 miles, one of the women said, "This is my favorite part of the course. This is where it gets interesting," or something along those lines. The next thing I know we are heading off trail for one of those "stupid sections" that the race director is famous for. The next two miles were mostly spent trying to follow the markers off-trail, climbing over downed trees, crossing streams, and at one point climbing straight up a muddy vertical surface on all fours. It was  a blast!

After we came out of that section, we had another aid station break and did some really nice running down to a second lake. As we ran along the edge of the lake, I could not help but think that we had to get back up to ridge level. I knew there was a climb in my future, but imagine my surprise when I found that to get back up to ridge level we had to climb about 20 flights of wooden stairs (about 6 to 8 stairs per flight). These were particularly annoying because the rise on the stairs was about two inches higher than my legs wanted to lift at that point. I guess it was that way for one of the other women I was running with too, as she took a bad fall on the stairs, really smacking her shin in the process. We waited while she tried to overcome the pain and start running again. Soon we were back on our way, but the group I was running with were starting to struggle some while I was still feeling good.

At about mile 26 we popped out of the woods and into the campground. There was an unofficial aid station there, so we stopped for some water and Gatorade. I was ready to go and happy to see this section. I knew this section because I had run it the night before to keep my streak alive. It was a little over a mile of pavement through the park before getting back onto the trail to head back to the finish. I also knew that beyond the pavement a considerable amount of those last few miles had to be downhill to get us off the ridges and down to the finish. On the pavement I was feeling good. I noticed that my group started to fall behind, but I did not realize how much until I hit the official aid station at the end of the pavement. They were nowhere in sight.

I did not need much aid at that point because I had fueled up at the unofficial station just a mile or so back, so I decided to head out. I was feeling a little guilty about leaving the group, but I also did not want to wait because I wanted the best time I could get. I started off down the two-track trail that would take us back down to Mike's Music and Dance Barn for the finish. Most of this section was good running, except for one little thing: more mud.

I was not as successful this time in staying out of the mud. There was just no way to avoid it in a few spots. I stepped carefully into the footsteps of previous runners, preferably males with size 13 shoes. I was doing alright until suddenly I lost my balance just a bit. My left foot missed the spot I was aiming for and went straight into the deep mud. My right foot, luckily, was on the bank. However, as I went to take the next step, I found that I could not move my left foot. It was stuck. I pulled harder and felt my foot start to slip out of the shoe. No way I was going to let that happen!! 

What to do?  Time is ticking! Well, the only thing I could figure out to do was stick my hands into that nasty black mud and dig out my foot. I started digging with one hand, using my other hand to balance so that I would not go face first into the slime. Finally I heard the satisfying "slurp" that comes when the shoe finally breaks loose from the suction and was able to pull out my foot, shoe attached, and make it to the other side of the mudhole. My shoes weighed about a pound each. I stopped for a second to use a stick to scrape the mud off my shoes and to rub my hand off in a patch of what I was praying was not something that would cause a nasty rash later.

Amazingly, with all the time I wasted, there was still nobody coming up behind me. I started running again and soon reached the top  of the grassy ski hill that I knew was very close to the finish. I picked my way carefully down the slope, keeping my eyes open for snakes they had warned us about, and started through the high grass. The trail at this point was about a shoe's width wide and through grass that was higher than knee deep. Things were going well until I caught my foot in a clump of grass and fell. This has been my biggest fear since the ruptured spleen. What would happen if I fell?  I am happy to report that what happened is what had always happened before that fateful day of the ruptured spleen: I got back up and kept running. I felt ten pounds lighter, though, to be relieved of the weight of that question. I could fall again, get back up, and not break myself.

The next section of the course, the last half mile, was classic Dances with Dirt. We ran up the middle of a stream. The water level was low this year, so the stream was anywhere from ankle deep to knee deep in places, and it felt absolutely fabulous!! What I did learn about my Pure Grits at that point was that they are rock magnets. I had forgotten to put on the gators that I had brought, so ended up with about a dozen little pea-sized pebbles in each shoe. The last few hundred yards to the finish were like running barefoot on a gravel road because of all the rocks in my shoes, but I did not care. I was finished, and the race had been, as my son would say "a blasty-blast."

I crossed the finish line in 6:47:25, which was not the sub 6:30 that I had hoped for, but which was still respectable, I thought. I was absolutely shocked when I told them my age group and they said I had gotten first place and handed me my "gnaw bone."

Leslie and I with our bones

I was not sure if Leslie was in yet or not, but I grabbed a muffin (I was starving) and headed out to find her. She was in, so I proudly showed off my bone. She said, "How did you know you placed?" I said they asked me at the finish. (Unlike road races, at trail ultras awards are often given out as you cross the finish line because with the runners finishing over such a huge spread of time, a post-race awards ceremony is usually not practical.)  She said that nobody had asked her. I told her to go check. She did and came back proudly displaying her bone as well. She had also gotten first in her age group.

Post Race Party Getting Started

The post-race party was already starting at that time. The keg had been tapped and people were stretched out on the ground or in lawn chairs cheering on the finishers. We were anxious to join the party, but the bite valve on my hydration pack had been leaking throughout the race, and I was soaked in blue Gatorade from the waist down. I REALLY wanted to get out of my soggy shorts, so we made a quick trip up to the campground to change clothes.

Country band at Mike's Music and Dance Barn

By the time we got back, most of the 50k people had finished. I saw my three women friends at the finish line. They had a rough final section and had finished about 13 minutes behind me. I was glad to see them and thanked them for helping me through the race. Then Leslie and I settled down with Leslie's new friend from the half to wait for the woman's husband to finish the 50k. 

By that time the country band was playing, and the food was ready.  Mike's pulled pork, ranch beans, and cole slaw definitely did not disappoint. Leslie enjoyed the beer on tap while I stuck to Diet Cokes so that I could get us back to the campground in one piece.

We spent the next several hours cheering in the late 50k runners, the 50 milers, and being entertained by the costumed relayers finishing their race. It was a great atmosphere, very fun and laid back. I also saw one of my RUT friends, Andrew, who finished the 50 miles. His next race is Western States!! How exciting!  

Red Hat  Hot Ladies Relay Team

Eventually, things started to wind down (somewhere around 6 pm, I would guess), and Leslie and I decided to head into town in search of more grub (I was still hungry  even after two pulled pork sandwiches).  We drove into the town of Nashville, which is a really cute little arts, crafts, and antiques town and a popular tourist destination. We found a local ice cream shop and got some ice cream and walked around a little. Amazingly the legs did not feel too bad at that point.

All in all, the entire race, from start to finish, was a great experience. I will be heading back to Gnaw Bone next year and look forward to tackling the course again. It is a beautiful and challenging ultra, with a little bit of everything. 

Related Posts:
Quest for the Buckle Part 2: Dances with Dirt Gnaw Bone (with course profile)
Race Report: Dances with Dirt Devil's Lake
Race Report: Dances with Dirt Green Swamp
Race Report: Dances with Dirt Hell

Quest for the Buckle Part 2: Dances With Dirt Gnaw Bone

This weekend I am off to complete the second 50k in the four 50k Dances with Dirt (DWD) series that I have as a major goal for the year. In case you missed my earlier post, my goal this year is the coveted Boned, Bloodied, Burned, and Bruised belt buckle. To pick up this little bit of bling, I must complete the four Dances With Dirt 50ks.

I completed the first one in March at Green Swamp, Florida. It was a disaster, with me walking the last 16 miles because of an IT band injury. I am hoping for redemption at this weekend's run. Notice I did not say "race." That is because I will not be "racing" here. I will be attempting to complete the distance without further irritating my nearly-healed IT band. 

Each one of the DWD races has a different character and a different challenge. DWD Gnaw Bone is known for two things: hills and mud. Here is the course profile:

Highlights of the race include a stretch down the center of a stream and a free-for-all down a ski slope (make your own trail). There is also a relay going on at the same time that gets pretty wild and crazy. For a taste of what the race is like, take a look at the video below:

Gnaw Bone, Indiana, where this race takes place, is too far to drive to the morning of the race. That means another running road trip. Because of the logistics of traveling with our menagerie (2 dogs, 2 cats, and a parrot), my husband and loyal crew member, has decided to sit this one out.

I was heading off to Gnaw Bone solo when my good friend Leslie, who is always up for doing something crazy, decided that she could come too and run the half marathon.  Awesome! Now we have a girls' camping and running road trip. Too much fun!!

So, tonight I am loading up my little car Katie with our tent, camping gear, and running gear. We hit the road bright and early tomorrow morning for our running adventure.  We will be camping at Raccoon Ridge with a bunch of other DWD crazies. The race is Saturday. Stay tuned for updates!

Disaster at DWD Green Swamp: Race Report

Well, I guess it is time for a race report for the first 50k of the series. It was not a very auspicious beginning. The day started out well. The temperatures were perfect for me, probably mid 50s at the start.  I arrived at the race with plenty of time to spare and got to see the 50 milers finishing their first 5 mile loop. It was still dark, and it was fun to watch their headlamps come bouncing up the trail through the trees.

The group at the start for the 50k and marathon probably had a couple hundred people, but I wasn't really paying much attention. I had decided to go out strong, in the first third of the pack this time, because I was feeling good and expecting to have a good day.

The course started with a 6.2 mile loop on a nice wide trail, so there were no real issues with passing. I settled into a pace around 9:45, which was what I thought was comfortable and doable for the first part of the race. I was hoping for a 10:45 pace overall. I had run an 11:13 pace taking it easy in the marathon in KY on a hilly course, and I really felt a 10:45 was realistic. 

The DWD course is entirely flat, and the footing, at this point was very good.  I planned to go out a little faster than what I hoped to average for the day because I knew from experience running in Florida that it is better to make up some time while it is still cool because when the heat hits, everyone slows down, regardless of conditioning.

Somewhere in the first loop, the leaders took a wrong turn, and the rest of the pack followed. When the leaders realized there were no blue flags on this part of the trail, we all turned around to head back to the place where we had made a wrong turn. This started a huge traffic jam and allowed runners who had started slower to get ahead. I was not upset, though. We were at about 4 miles of a 31 mile race. It would all sort itself out eventually.

I finished the first loop and came through the aid station feeling great. I really felt like this was going to be a good day for me and was happy that my training seemed to have put me in good form for the race. Coming out of the first aid station is where trouble started. We hit a road of "sugar sand," as they call it down here. It was deep and soft. For a while, I was able to run the edges, but eventually those were gone, and there was no choice but to slog through the stuff. It was made even more difficult by the holes made by the previous runners.

I am not sure how long we were in the sand. It seemed like about 2 miles. I could feel the strain in my knees, lower legs, and IT band toward the end of the section, but I was hoping and praying that when I got on better footing that everything would be okay.  

Eventually we did hit better footing, and I settled back into pace. I was still averaging around a 9:45 pace overall and felt very comfortable. My IT band was tight, but I kept hoping it would just loosen up.  When I hit the aid station at Ranch Rd. (10.3 miles), I was still feeling great. I got to see my fellow RUTster, Jan, who was working the aid station rather than running because of an injury. That put a smile on my face as I headed out for the next leg.

The next section also went pretty well, but any time there was uneven footing, I could really feel it in the IT band on my left leg. I hit the half marathon mark in 2:07, still feeling fantastic except for that niggling worry about my left leg. I stopped at the aid station at Traffic Jam (13.9) very briefly to get some water and headed out again. I don't know if it was the stop or not, but suddenly things started to take a turn for the worse. I could feel the IT band getting tighter and tighter and again was just praying  that it would go away if I relaxed. 

I slowed the pace a bit to a 10:30 to see if slowing down helped at all. I am not sure that was a good move.  I hit the 15 mile mark, and that was all she wrote. The band completely tightened, and I could not put weight on the leg to run. I stopped to walk, stretched, and got about another quarter mile of running before it seized up again. I repeated the walk/stretch/ run routine and got about a tenth of a mile running before it seized again. After that I tried two or three more times, unsuccessfully, to try to run, but it was not happening.  Walking did not hurt, but running was impossible.

 

At mile 16, I made one last try. I still couldn't run, and this time when I stopped my knee started hurting when I walked as well. I realized then that if I had any hope of completing the race, I was going to be walking the entire way.

Then I had a decision to make: do I walk the remaining 15 miles or do I bail out. Well, as much as I hated the idea of walking for 16 miles, I hated the idea of not finishing even more. That would end my quest for the coveted buckle and throw my entire year's training plan out the window. Nope. I was definitely walking in.

That started what is probably the second hardest thing I have ever done as a runner (the hardest definitely being  the 50 miler).  I cannot tell you how miserable it was to walk for the next 5 hours and 15 miles, being constantly passed by other runners.  After the first mile or so, the enormity of walking the 15 miles really set in. I realized that it was going to be a really, really long day. My walking pace was not great. I do not train to walk. Muscles that don't get used that often were not anxious to pitch in and help after I had so badly abused their brothers and sisters.

Luckily I had my cell phone with me and was able to text Jer, who was waiting back at the start/finish, to let him know that I was walking. I also texted my friend Leslie for some moral support. They kept me from totally wallowing in self-pity although I will admit to a few angry, frustrated tears at one point.  

Up until that time the day had been pretty cool. There was cloud cover which kept it from being burning hot.  That was not too last. At the part of the course where I had to cross meadows and a long stretch of unshaded dirt road, the sun decided to come out. It was blazing hot.

It was at that point, when I started to really sweat, that I realized from the intense stinging on my back, that my hydration pack was chafing. Oh great, one more thing to add to my list of woes.

For a while I took the hydration pack off and carried it, but that was even more annoying than having it rub on my back. Thankfully, I was only about 4 miles out from the start/finish line where I could drop the pack with Jer and pick up a hand bottle. I texted ahead so he would have it ready.

Coming back to the start/finish area, we hit a few more sandy spots. I almost could not even walk through them and slowed to a shuffle in those spots. About this time, I was caught by a guy who was doing his first marathon. He was in severe distress. He was not a trail runner , had not trained on trails, and had not realized how much harder running on the trails (and in the sand) would be compared to road running. He was in pretty bad shape, but he had it over me. He could still run when he could pull himself together mentally to do so. I felt bad for him. What a horrible first marathon experience!

Also on this stretch of the course, I found out how really bitchy and mean-spirited a hot day of walking can make me. I was really annoyed at the marathoners who would run by and say "Nice job!" or "You're doing great!" It took all of the little self-control I had left not to yell, "What are you, some kind of idiot? I am definitely not doing great!" However, I realized that such outbursts would be considered incredibly bad form so managed to just find new and exciting ways for the voices in my head to express those sentiments to each other. As I got more creative, I started to feel better. There is nothing like being bitchy and mean to cheer a girl up.

Finally, at about six hours and change, I came back by the start/finish, got rid of my pack, picked up my hand bottle, and started out on the last five mile leg of my day from hell. Ironically, this last loop was my favorite part of the course. It was shady and a little cooler, and I had finally made peace with the idea that there was a distinct possibility that I might be last woman finisher. In fact, I was kind of hoping for that. I really started to enjoy the scenery at that point. I found a bird feather to stick in my hair and a little later down the trail a freshly shed snake skin. I even managed to sing a few Jimmy Buffett tunes to keep me going. I am sure passing runners thought I was delirious from the heat if they heard me. 

About that time I had the neatest experience. A guy came hobbling up. He was having calf cramps, which I could totally relate to because that is one thing I often have to deal with in the latter stage of races. We started talking. He was from Indiana (I think his name was John). Turns out he just turned 50 this year, and his goal also is to get the belt buckle for the four DWD ultras. We laughed at how similar our circumstances were and what a horrible start this was to meeting the goal. Then, after one false start of cramping, he ran off and left me. I didn't see him again until after the finish, and I was glad to know that he had made it through.

One of the more annoying things in the whole day happened about 100 yards from the finish, just as we came out of the woods onto the field where the finish was located. I was passed by not one, but two, women.  They were still able to run, and I had to limp along helplessly as they passed me and I dropped two more spots in the women's race. Talk about frustrating! Still, I was just so thankful to finish and for the day to be over.  My official time was 7:40:43.  I was 55th out of 61 finishers.

Now, two days later, my IT band is feeling better, and I likely will be able to run again by tomorrow. This experience was just like the previous two episodes I had with the IT band on the long runs, and it occurred at just about the same time. The weird thing is that I had the trail marathon in KY on the hilly course with the uneven footing two weeks earlier and had no problems with the IT band whatsoever. 

This is definitely something I am going to need to continue to work on as I move in to my next phase of training. I will be adding in exercises to strengthen my hips and glutes, as well as religiously stretching and using the foam roller.  If anyone has any additional ideas on how I can avoid this, I would be glad to hear them. 

March Madness: Runner Style

We headed out yesterday for a runner's version of March Madness. I am running the Land Between Lakes (LBL) trail marathon in Kentucky this weekend then heading down to Florida to run Dances With Dirt Green  (DWD) Swamp 50k on the 24th. This is my first in the series of four in my quest to complete the Bloodied, Boned, Bruised, and Burned Series and acquire the coveted belt buckle that goes with it.


I was actually scheduled for the 60k at LBL to get the belt buckle there, but the training didn't go as well as I had hoped in terms of the long runs this winter, so I have dialed that back to the trail marathon as my last long training run before DWD.

The trip down to KY was uneventful except for a headwind. I had planned to go out and prerun the LBL course today, but unfortunately that headwind was the edge of a front that was moving through. It started raining last night and poured all day long. This is a picture of the campsite.

Looks like the run is going to be a mudfest, but the forecast is calling for sunny skies tomorrow and Saturday, so hopefully things will dry out. I am still going to prerun at least some of the course tomorrow if I can. The course is a brief section of road and then loops of an 11.3 mile trail. If the trail is not too big of a mess tomorrow, I may have some pictures. 

My plan for the race is just to try to remember that it is a training run and relax and have fun. I have been struggling with IT band problems on my long runs, so a victory here would just be to finish the 26.2 running without having any physical breakdowns. On my last trail marathon in January (which ended up being 28.2 miles because of a little problem I had following course markers), I had calf cramps that caused severe problems in the last 2.5 to 3 miles. I would just like to get through one of these without my legs mutinying on me. That is a major goal. I can't even think about going fast until I am sure my body will hold out. (Oh, and I forgot my foam roller -- probably the most important piece of gear except for my shoes. )

2012 Goals: Bloodied, Boned, Bruised, and Burned

In my previous post on the importance of goals I promised that I would share my current goals. I am at that veteran runner stage where goals are sometimes hard to set. Last year I had thought maybe I would go after my marathon PR, which I still feel has some room for improvement, just because that is what I was used to doing. I even entered a marathon last year. However, it became clear as I was training for the road marathon that I really wasn't enjoying it like I used to. Part of the reason for the DNF I had at that race was that I just wasn't into it -- the training or the racing.

What I was enjoying was the trail running that I started doing last spring here in Michigan. My previous trail running had been in the California mountains, which are absolutely awesome, and in Florida, which is a big, hot, sandy swamp. Although I had loved trail running in California, I did not know much about Michigan and had no idea there were so many beautiful trails.

It was love at first run on the trails up here. The trails are soft, not too rocky (at least not compared to So Cal), and the greenery and wildlife are beautiful. In my mind, trails will always go hand in hand with ultras, so when I decided late last spring that road marathons were not doing it for me, ultras was the direction I turned.  I was entered to run my first trail marathon in August and the 50k at Woodstock in September. I was starting to feel motivated and passionate about running again. Then in July I ruptured my spleen on a trail run -- 4 days in the hospital and 8 weeks of no running. That set me back a bit.

As I was on the couch for 8 weeks, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I really wanted to do in my running. One of those "someday I will" things I have had in mind for almost a decade is the desire to run the Western States 100. It occurred to me, as I watched the year click down toward the big 5-0, that if I was going to ever do that, I better get after it.

You are probably thinking, "Oh, then her goal for the year is the Western States." Well not quite. You see, getting into Western States is a long process. First a person has to qualify. That involves finishing another 100 miler, or a 100k race under 14 hrs, or a 50 mile race in under 11 hours. Once one qualifies, then the runner can submit his or her name into the lottery. The number of entrants is limited to 369, but some of those spots go to previous years' winners and other specially qualified runners, so the actual number of spots is less. The lottery is a long process.  It can take years. If you are interested in the process, you can check out their site.

So, yes, entering Western States is a goal, but it is a 3 to 5 year goal for me. I am not the kind of person who likes to be unprepared. I don't just want to run Western States; I want to try for the silver buckle that comes with a finish under 24 hours. The odds are already stacking up against me because I am getting older even as I type, but I am going to give it a shot. Once that long term goal was set, it was easy to work backwards.

With that in mind, I had to ask myself "How do I get there from here?" The answer is that I need to get into shape to run a qualifying event.  I decided to make it a two to three year plan, depending on how I progress and handle the mileage. This year, 2012, is the year of the 50k. The following year will be 50 milers and 100ks, and the next year 100 milers. I know that seems like a long build-up but remember that I want to "race" these not just finish them, and it takes me longer to build mileage than it used to. I would like to have a year of solid 40 to 60 mile weeks before I attempt the 100 miler.

Then I turned my attention to 2012. What did I want to do with those 50ks. Well I knew the answer to that question immediately. When I heard we were moving to Michigan, I was on the internet trying to find out if there were any running clubs or good races up here, and I came across the Dances With Dirt site. If you have never heard of Dances with Dirt (DWD)  , you really need to go to the site and read a little bit to get the flavor of the whole experience. The Dances with Dirt series is a set of races put on by Running Fit. It is a pet project of their "head goat" Randy Step, who is an awesome guy and a really crazy race director.

The courses are all in places with colorful names: Green Swamp, Gnaw Bone, Devil's Lake, and Hell. The courses range from difficult to absolutely ridiculous, including stream crossings, bushwhacking, swamp crossings, dirt ladders, and whatever other surprises Randy can arrange for his dedicated runners. The best part is that the races are a series: Bloodied, Boned, Bruised and Burned. If a runner completes four ultras in the series within a single year, there is a buckle.

Now, I have mentioned before that I am a sucker for bling. I will run myself nearly to death for a cheap plastic medal on a tacky ribbon, so you can imagine how I felt the first time I saw that buckle. I had to have it. My goals for 2012 were set.

The races in the series go like this: Green Swamp, FL (March 24), Gnaw Bone, IN (May 12), Devil''s Lake, WI (July 14), and Hell (September 22).   If I successfully complete the fourth race, the belt buckle will be awarded at the finish line of my "home" race in Hell.

Here is the plan. My odyssey will start with the DWD Green Swamp, sort of. Actually I fell victim to the FOMO I mentioned in the previous post and have entered a "training race" a trail marathon at Land Between Lakes in Kentucky , which is on the way to Florida, and which will be my last long training run before the 50k. That run is March 10.  My goal in that endeavor will just be to get that long run in at a sensible pace that does not leave me fatigued for the 50k (IT band willing). You will see that I like to use trail marathons as some of my long training runs for the 50ks. It is fun to get those long training runs done with company and aid.

I have a secondary goal that I should also mention. I still love road running and was not ready to completely give it up. I also did not want to lose all my road speed.  The half marathon is my favorite road distance, so I am keeping a few road half marathons in my schedule (Martian and Bayshore). I don't expect to set any PRs at these races, as my PRs at the half are times that I could only hope to reach with dedicated training for that event. What I am hoping for is to establish some "over 50" PRs for myself and maybe place in my age group if possible. Because of that you will notice that there are a few half marathons tucked into my upcoming races. Those are on my "down" weekends for the ultra training, the weekends where I would have run only 12 to 14 miles anyway.

So that is how the next 9 months are shaping up for me. I hope to take you along on the journey by providing video logs and race reports. I have to admit I am a little scared and am wondering if four 50ks are biting off more than I can chew, but only time will tell. 

How about your goals? What do you have planned for the upcoming season?