2024 Superior 100

When I think about this year’s edition of the Superior 100, the word that comes to mind is time.

Time is such an interesting construct - “time stands still,” “time flies,” “time marches on,” are just a few things we say in reference to the word time. But what does that have to do with this year’s Superior 100? A lot, I think.

Settle in as you come along for the journey.

This was my 10th trip down the Superior Hiking Trail during the Fall Superior Races. My first attempt to run from Gooseberry State Park to Lutsen on the Superior Hiking Trail (SHT) was in 2013. That year I pulled out at mile 85 behind on calories & hallucinating gnomes in trees (we’ve come a long way since that year!) Other than 2016 (I ran the Hallucination 100 that year instead) and 2020 (Covid changed everyone’s plans) I have been on the SHT during the second weekend in September. Last year I pulled out at 62 miles due to an on going injury, and as a result I was highly motivated for my 8th finish this time around.

My mind spins at the fact that I’ve been fortunate enough to have spent more than a decade on the SHT. Time? Where did it go? My gratitude for a strong, durable body, the gem of the north shore & a lifestyle that allows me to spend time on the trails is real & not taken for granted.

Time, as it does, moves us forward, and after a summer of training both in the gym and on the trails, I found myself once again at the Gooseberry State Park visitors center ready to take on 100+ miles of SHT and whatever adventure was in store.

My number one & best crew chief anyone could ask for.

At 8am on Friday, the race kicked off & a pack of 243 runners headed off down the paved trail that runs along Highway 61 headed north 4 miles before connecting with a spur trail that will lead us to the main SHT.

Time. During the early miles of a 100 mile race, you have to remain patient. This is probably the hardest part. You are eager, rested & ready. But there is a lot of trail ahead & any mistakes you make early - going out too fast, neglecting to stay fueled, tripping and falling because you’re distracted can cause much larger issues later in the race. You simply can’t rush time in those early miles.

Early miles with lots of other runners as we make our way towards the first aid station. PC Ambruster Photography.

It’s 8.5 or so miles to the first aid station. I leap frogged positions with other runners around me as we made our way up to the Split Rock River & towards the first aid station. I felt good, and focused on running well within my fitness and staying well fueled. I was trying some new (this was the first season of using it) liquid carbohydrate drink & electrolyte drink. I carried a bladder of water in my pack, with a bottle of high carb & a bottle of electrolytes along with many hundreds of additional calories. I needed to take in 300 calories an hour on average.

I hit the first aid station as predicted & was back on the trail in no time, as I didn’t need to resupply anything yet. Next up was 10.3 miles of more runnable terrain on the way to Beaver Bay. This is another section where you have to remain patient. It’s easy to get excited about seeing crew for the first time. I settled into my pace & found myself leading a line of runners as we all made our way towards Beaver Bay. It was fun to share some conversation & learn about where some of the other folks were from.

Leading the way! So fun to share some conversations as we all headed towards Lutsen! Also the lake was so blue! PC Scott Rokis

Beaver Bay hits at almost 19 miles (18.8) and I swapped my pack with Matt for a new one. Pack swapping makes aid stations much easier, since crew has a chance to fill bottles & bladders before I arrive & then I can just grab & go. I treated myself to a homemade cookie as I passed through the aid station & requested dry socks for the next aid station at Silver Bay a short 4.2 miles further down the trail

An hour and 20 minutes later I arrived in Silver Bay, quickly located my crew, did a sock change (first sit down of the day,) grabbed my fresh pack & was back on the trail. I had connected with my friend, Erika, during the previous section & I was glad when we left the Silver Bay aid station together. It can be a long 10.3 miles to the next aid station at Tettegouche. Crew is not allowed there, although we can have drop bags (drop bags are bags we pack prior to the race & then race officials transport them to the aid stations for us.) Then it’s another 9.3 miles before meeting crew at County Road 6.

The 10.3 miles to Tettegouche are iconic SHT - we climb up to Bean & Bear Lakes, cross Mount Trudee, and enjoy some buffed out single track inside the state park boundaries before running an ATV trail to the aid station. While iconic, they are also tough. It is now mid-day. Where did the time go???? We are more than a marathon in to the race, with lots more ahead. I always look forward to seeing my friends from Performance Running Gym at the Tettegouche aid station. I know they are going to bring the energy and help take care of us if we need it. Erika and I enjoyed some good conversation and I was grateful for the company on this long stretch.

We eventually rolled into Tettegouche, the volunteers there were as wonderful as ever. They helped fill my bottles, brought me bacon & cheese quesadillas & kept my spirits high. When I was ready to leave, I looked around only to find that Erika had already taken off.

I texted Matt that I was leaving to give him a head’s up on my pace. It was 4:53PM. I’d been running for almost 9 hours. This was the first time today, that I was actually running alone. I was ok with it. When you leave the Tettegouche aid station, you have to cross under Hwy 61, take a bridge across the river & then cross under the HWY again before starting the 1 mile hike back up to the main SHT. It’s fun to see all the day hikers around the state park & have a sense of reality. Here’s that time thing again - 9 hours of running when you know that it’s not even a third of what you have left, and these folks are finishing their hikes, probably thinking about dinner. Even after all these years, my head spins at how we can mentally frame things based on what we’re doing.

I munch on the bacon from the quesadilla and make my way up to the main SHT trail. I’m motivated to attempt to make it to County Road 6 (mile 42.6) before dark. However, I’m not yet convinced I can actually do it. I’m going to give it my best effort. Moving with purpose through this section, I mentally slay some ghosts of past races that linger here. Last year the sun dropped quickly in this section, and I was way behind on calories, emotional & not moving well - lots of tears were shed. Another year I got caught without enough light when a deep fog moved in. And then there was the first year, where I had no idea what to expect and I thought the aid station was much closer than it actually was.

I had trained on this section earlier in the summer, so I knew that there were parts that were runnable. If I could manage my energy & mindset I wanted to run those parts. I pushed hard to keep moving, and the body responded. I found myself running well when I could & hiking strong when necessary. Towards the end of the section I finally caught up with Erika & without even meaning to, I passed her & kept running.

The sun setting on Sawmill Dome during the final section before County Road 6. PC Scott Rokis.

I was stoked to drop down to the paved road that leads to the aid station without needing to use my headlamp. I ran in to the aid station & located Matt & Kelly. Kelly was ready to pace me all night & I was excited to be here feeling so good. I sat down briefly (second sit of the day) to change my shirt, adjust layers, and get ready for the night section. Matt had a turkey wrap ready on cue & I tucked that in to a pocket of my pack. Dinner on the trail.

Ready to take on the night! Temps were already dropping, it was going to be a chilly night on the trail.

Kelly & I head off down the trail. I wouldn’t see crew again until mile 77 tomorrow morning. We climb up Section 13 to the most beautiful sunset. I wish I had a photo of this, but I wasn’t interested in pausing for that long. Easy conversation & miles fly by. Soon we arrive at the Finland aid station, which marks 50 miles. I go looking for my drop bag while Kelly goes looking for mashed potatoes and bacon for me. I don’t think they had either, but I’m sure I ate something, collected what I needed from my drop bag & headed down the trail.

This night section from Finland onward, historically can be a drag. It was 10:30pm when we headed out. I was continuing to move efficiently & feel good. I’m so glad to report that the night was uneventful. Other than a little runner “leap frog” with my friend, Kevin, who with his spooky voice creeped up on us later in the Crosby section, these sections rolled by without issue. And we sure had a good laugh with Kevin! I learned a ton of geology from Kelly who always has interesting geological facts to share. The temps dropped and frost was highlighted with our headlamps in the open areas, but we kept moving. Checking of Sonju aid station (mile 58.2), Crosby Manitou Aid station (mile 62.4) and finally arriving into Sugarloaf at mile 72 at 6:00am.

Kelly & I cruising into a new day! Sun is up, lights are off, smiles are on! PC Amrbruster Photography

As we arrived into the Sugarloaf aid station, I asked Kelly what her plan was - her car was parked here, and if she was going to call it a day. She elected to run another section with me to where we would meet Matt at Mile 77.6, Cramer Road aid station. So we rolled on!

Cramer Road is the start of the marathon distance race at 8:00am. I wanted to get through here as quickly as possible to avoid getting caught up in a huge mass of fresh runners heading to Lutsen. When we arrived at Cramer Road, we were met with Matt & my friend, Erin, who decided she would pace me from the next aid station (Temperance mile 84.5) to the finish. I sat down for the 3rd time since the race start to change my socks again & asked Kelly what she wanted to do. More bonus miles for Kelly, as she joined me for another section!

We quickly headed out to get as much trail between us and the marathoners as possible. I was continuing to feel good - or as good as one can feel on day 2 of an event!

It was towards the middle part of this section that the marathoners started to pass. First the fast guys going for a win, and then some quicker middle of the pack folks. It was fun to soak up some of their fresh energy. Here they were starting their day & I’m now 24 hours into mine. Time. Simply fascinating how we can make it what it is.

I arrived at the Temperance aid station at 10:00am. This aid station is always so bright & a new day brought full sun and warmer temps again. I did a quick pack swap again since from here on out I would see crew at each aid station until the end of the race. Kelly retired from her pacing duties (after 42 miles) & Erin jumped in with fresh energy & new stories to share with me to the finish line.

From the Temperance Aid station you make your way down one side of the Temperance river, cross the pedestrian bridge & then up the other side on the way to climb Carlton Peak. This is another section full of day hikers and fresh faces of folks enjoying real life.

Contemplating my life choices as I make my way down the rocks along the Temperance River. PC Armbruster photography.

The climb up Carlton Peak is always tough, but we make our way & soon we are heading towards the Sawbill aid station. This is the second to last aid station on the course. It always feels good to get here. It takes us a few minutes to locate Matt because we’re almost 10 min ahead of my predicted time. I’m motivated to put in a strong effort during these last two sections. At this point, I don’t have the mental fortitude to do the math on whether or not a personal best is possible, but I want to at least be able to say I put forth my best effort, no matter what.

We have approximately 13 miles remaining (at least on paper) and one more aid station before the finish. There has been rumor of a bonus hill before the finish line this year, and I’m not sure what to expect for that. Erin takes the lead as we leave Sawbill in an effort to “pull” me along. I’m tired. My quads are barking at each downhill we come to, but at least I can still climb. Uphills have always been my strength - which is good, because there are at least 4 more big climbs before the finish.

I’m watching my pace, and estimating that if I can run/hike 3 MPH or 20 min miles I will be close to beating my best time from 6 years ago. The miles are clicking off & I’m holding steady at 18-19min pace. Even the miles that “feel slow” are still less than 20 min pace. Time. Such a strange concept.

Moving through the trees in the final sections. PC Scott Rokis.

We hit the Oberg aid station at 1:15pm. I just need enough fuel & fluids to get me 7.5 more miles. We don’t linger at the aid station. I want to wrap this up. But this last section has 2 more big climbs & then the final “bonus” hill at the end. Can I continue to move well enough to pull off a personal best?

I’m still not convinced, but I can control my effort. So I allow Erin to continue to '“pull” me along. By watching her feet, I can simply just work on keeping up with them. Less decisions that I have to make. Just follow her feet. The first big climb, Moose Mountain, feels extra hard. I’m sure that the mile split is going to be a long one - nope. Still under 20 min pace. I’m feeling hopeful. I even pass a guy here. I think he’s doing the 50. My climbing legs still work! Now to push the downhill so I don’t get passed back - good incentive to keep moving. My quads and thighs bark in argument of my pace. Next up Mystery Mountain (not the bonus hill yet, this one is actually called Mystery.) We are within a few miles of the finish line. At one point you can even hear the finish line music & announcers on the breeze. We’re not there yet. I don’t let off my effort. I know I’m close to a personal best time, but my watch is showing more miles than advertised (it’s not uncommon for trail races to be a slightly different distance than printed - course reroutes & differences in GPS devices can show inconsistencies.) I’m already at 103 miles. And we still need the bonus hill. Time keeps on ticking on.

Soon I notice more of the landmarks that my mind identifies as getting closer to the final river crossing & end of the single track trail. As we cross the raging Poplar River, I allow myself to consider that a personal best might happen. However, what’s that bonus hill going to be??

Previous years, we would simply run the main road through Lutsen Resort to the finish line at Caribou Highlands. However some red tape & issues required the race to divert runners back up the ski hill and off the main road.

As we hit the pavement, cones and trail markings point us up the ski hill to our left. We make s short climb & then follow a gravel road around the backside of the lifts and I can see the “bonus” hill ahead. A long, grassy climb awaits before we turn & descend to Caribou Highlands. The climb isn’t an issue, but that descent, down a catwalk which crosses the paved road and into the Caribou Highlands property was rough. I literally had to just tell my quads and thighs to shut up! It would be over soon!

Down the cat walk, around the buildings, and past the pool to the finish line. 104.8 miles. 31 hours 33 minutes - 24 minute personal best from my time in 2018 (which was closer to 102 miles.)

Finish line celebration with pacer Erin on my heels! PC Adventure Wheelers Photography.

As I sit here a week post race, time continues to march on.

I think it’s important that we take time to recognize time and where we’ve been and what we want to still accomplish. However, tomorrow is never guaranteed, so all we have is right now. Maybe those early miles of an ultra have something to teach us all. Stay present, stay patient, and enjoy the journey.

Thank you all for following along.

Thank you to the race director, Rocksteady Running, all the volunteers, my amazing team at Sunrise Fitness who kept the studio going, Kelly & Erin, my amazing pacers & most importantly, thank you to my number one, Matt, as I couldn’t (nor would I want to) take this journey alone.

Until next time.

Elm Creek Backyard Ultra

Never die in the chair.

That was one of the quotes I had taped to my plastic tote of gear that I was going to need for the Elm Creek Backyard Ultra, a Last Runner Standing type of event.

A backyard ultra or Last Runner Standing event is quite simple. Run a 4.1 mile loop in an hour or less. Start the next loop at the top of the next hour. The race has no finish line. The end is when everyone else has tapped out and there is 1 runner remaining. That runner will then run 1 more loop in under an hour. If that runner does not complete the loop in under an hour then there are no finishers. Everyone runs the same loop and has the same hour to do all the things.

Need to change shoes, eat or use the bathroom? All of that has to be done in whatever time you have left between the time you finished your 4.1 miles & the top of that next hour. Does it make sense to run faster & have more time to rest or run slower & keep the body in motion? Every runner has to make that decision for themselves.

This is the third year of the Elm Creek Backyard Ultra, held at Elm Creek Park in Maple Grove, MN. I have volunteered in a variety of ways at the 2 years prior & this year I decided it was my turn to line up & see how many loops I could complete.

At the start line. PC Bruce Holman.

I had big goals. I believe that by setting big goals, even if we don’t make them, we still end up landing further ahead than if we played it safe. My first goal for this event was to break the standing women’s course record of 61 miles. From there I wanted to run 100 miles (24 loops.) I had no idea if 100 miles was in the cards, but I trained like it was.

I don’t think I have ever been this fit in April before. The mild winter allowed for lots of quality running & my consistency in the gym strength training has been better than ever. I knew if anything was going to hold me back, it was going to be mental. Our minds give up way before our bodies do.

The race started at noon on Friday. I worked a couple of hours and then Matt & I headed up to the park to set up our tent. It was cloudy, 50* and threatening rain.

We got the tent set up - I would barely spend any time here, but my crew could use it to nap/relax & stay warm while I was out on my loop.

The Taj Mahal as one of my crew members called it. There were about 100 other tents set up around us.

At 12 pm 180 runners took off from the start/finish chute on the first of many loops. The first 6 hours we ran the loop counter clockwise. Every 6 hours we would change direction. I still haven’t decided which way I like better, but it was certainly a topic of conversation among the athletes out on the course.

Still smiling. PC Jamison Swift

My plan was to keep the pace easy - I didn’t want more than 10 minutes between loops. Too much time would allow me to get chilled & would result in running too hard too early. After a loop or two I got very comfortable running an average 12 min/mile pace. I had a couple of friends on the course, but at first our paces weren’t aligning, so I ran the first 3-4 loops solo. Eventually I caught up to Erika & Jodee & we would run the bulk of the event from there on out together

I used to run with Erika & Jodee ,but it had been a few years since we’d spent any time together on the trails. It was so fun to reconnect.

The loops clicked off. Night fell & the number of runners lining up for each loop was starting to get smaller. At midnight we hit 50 miles. 12 loops done. At 2am it started to rain.

Not just the misty, drips we’d had. Really rain. The 3 of us laughed at the rain as we started loop 15. Things were going to get real now.

It didn’t take but a few minutes for the rain to soak my windshell and long sleeve shirt. My gloves were soaked & I knew this would cause my hands to go into full on raynauds if I didn’t get dry.

The rain slowed us down some & I finished this loop with just about 7 and a half minutes to spare. I raced back to the tent to get dry layers on. As quickly as I could, I changed my bra, t-shirt, long sleeve & grabbed my rain shell instead of the wind jacket I had been wearing. I dug out dry gloves, buff & hat. This didn’t leave me anytime to eat real food.

Between loops I had been trying to get in more real/solid food. Sometimes running an ultra is like an eating competition. You HAVE to consume calories or you literally run out of energy. But frequently eating doesn’t sound like fun. I have found mashed potatoes to be a good source of energy, especially with slice or two of bacon. But because of my clothing change, getting food wasn’t an option.

Martji, my crew at the time, handed me an uncrustable pb&j sandwich as I lined up to start the next loop.

I was at the back of the group & my friends, Jodee & Erika, were a bit ahead of me. We took off at the ring of the cowbell. The rain had subsided, but the course was getting slick from the rain & foot traffic. I was struggling to catch back up to my friends, eat my pb&j & stay upright in the mud. I found myself walking & eating, knowing that if I didn’t eat, I didn’t have a prayer for continuing.

I never did catch up to my friends & only had 3 min to spare at the end of the loop. My crew, now with Alli & Martji were ready for me when I came in with a variety of foil wrapped items & a handheld of water. My pack was empty, so we traded. I had Alli tuck the foil wrapped items in my back pocket (she told me what they were, but I couldn’t remember.) I lined up again, this time on the heels of Erika & Jodee so I could fuel off their collective energy. The cowbell rang & off we went. I wasn’t but a few strides out when someone behind me yelled, “you dropped your food!” Sure enough the foil packets were on the ground. I had to turn around & pick them up. And in that moment, my friends were just far enough ahead & moving well enough, I couldn’t catch them.

I spent this loop again, trying to eat, move well & stay upright. It wasn’t going as well as I had hoped.

My mind started to wander. “You could just call it.” “You’re going to be close on time.” “You’ve been out here a long time.” “You can’t reach your goal of 100 miles. What a dumb idea.”

And then I would catch those thoughts. “Girl, you gotta move with purpose,” I’d tell myself. “You know there’s magic when the sun comes up.” “Just get to sunrise.” “Run like you have a horse in this race.”

The mental gymnastics. This is what I signed up for. The struggle. The doubt. The hard. I get to do this.

The clock was ticking & as I hiked up the last hill, I KNEW it was going to be close & there was 1 other woman not far behind me & she starts sprinting it in. And right then I knew, I couldn’t quit without a fight. We ran like our butts were on fire to get in on time.

37 seconds to spare. My crew handed me my pack & I handed them my empty handheld & rain jacket. I was getting too hot with it on & it wasn’t really raining anyway. The bell rang & off we went.

I couldn’t hang with Jodee & Erika as they were moving so well. I was struggling to stay upright in the mud. The first mile fueled by adrenaline went by well, but then it wasn’t sustainable. I slowed to a walk. Those thoughts came back. The doubt of whether or not I would make it.

The mind game is real. The need to fuel and get really comfortable being uncomfortable is real. I didn’t have 100 miles in this format in me this time around.

I, along with 4 other women, broke the women’s course record. I officially completed 17 loops and 70+ miles for a top 20 overall finish. Loop 18 I finished in just over an hour for 75 miles (but because it was over an hour, it’s not official.) Jodee went on to complete 100 miles & Erika set a new women’s course record at 108 miles! I’m so proud of these women & what they accomplished.

Two thumbs up, even when you don’t quite reach all your goals.

I said this before & I will say it again - the tide lifts all ships. Together we push each other to strive to be better humans & athletes & none of these efforts happen alone.

This was such an uplifting & cool event. It’s too soon to say if I will sign up for next year, but you can be certain that even if I don’t toe the line, I will be there to support this event & the goodness it brings out in everyone who participates.

Thank you to my crew, Matt, Alisha, Kelly, Martji & Alli. This was a group effort & I am so grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you to Nick, and the other race directors. What a great way to build community and empower people to find their limits. I look forward to supporting this event in years to come.

Hitchcock 100

Somewhere along the line we have confused comfort with happiness. Dean Karnazes

The Hitchcock 100 Mile Endurance Race was a late season add to my typical race calendar. After recovering from my DNF (did not finish) at Superior 100, I wasn’t ready to be done with the racing season just yet. (You can read about Superior in the next blog post down.) I was back to running long runs on the weekends, strength training & overall feeling strong as the fall season wore on. I signed up for Hitchcock 100 knowing that an early December race would be a wild card in the weather depeartment, especially here in the midwest. Race reports of previous years talked about snow, ice, mud & overall slippery/nasty conditions. I joked with friends that I was “manifesting” 30 degrees & dry conditions. Apparently it worked. More on that later.

Hitchcock 100 is held at the Hitchcock Nature Center not far from Omaha, Nebraska/Council Bluffs, Iowa. From the tops of the ridges you could see the city skylines. We stayed in downtown Omaha, an easy 20-25 min drive from hotel to race headquarters.

Just because it’s Iowa, don’t think that the course is flat. It is very much NOT flat. My Garmin Fenix 7 reported 22,000’ of vert over 100 miles. In comparison, Superior 100 reports 20,000’ of vert over a similar distance. This is a looped course & for the 2023 edition it was 6 16.7 mile loops.

The loop starts & finishes at Loess Lodge at the Hitchcock Nature Center. There is an aid station at mile 6 & again at 11.5, & the main aid station at the lodge. Crew can meet you at the Lodge & at the 11.5 mile aid station. The “loop” on paper looks like a kid scribbled on a map. There were out and backs, loops within the loop & many views of the Lodge. It took me a few loops to realize all the different parts of the loop. Guess it was good I got to do it so many times!

I travelled to the race with my friends, Kelly & Alisha. Collectively we are “Team Pocket Pickles.” Kelly & Alisha are the best travel companions, crew & pacers a girl could ask for. They computed my pace on the fly, were always there when I needed them & frequently predicted my needs.

Pre-race with Alisha & Kelly..

The race started at 5:00am on Saturday morning with 34 hours to complete the 100 mile distance. We started with a group of runners running the half marathon, so those early miles you had plenty of folks around. It was dark, as most of this race would be, given the short, winter days; when we all started off on the pavement in front of the lodge & headed out with our lights casting out over the trail. Very quickly I noticed the steepness of the trail as we descended the first hill (the lodge sits on top of a hill, as this will become very apparent later on!) I immediately thanked my lucky stars for a dry course. This first descent was no joke. And then as quickly as we descended we were climbing again. I tried to meter my effort & find my rhythm among the other runners.

The first loop was an adventure. It was all new to me. Plus for the first half of the loop it was dark! My body felt good. The climbs, while challenging, didn’t leave me wasted at the top. There were lots of runnable areas along the ridges before the steep descents. I carefully picked my way down the descents, every time being grateful it was dry. As morning broke on the first loop, the wind picked up & it started to snow. The wind would be the biggest issue Mother Nature would give us, as the snow didn’t last - it was just enough of a tease to remind us what could have been!

Blurry photo of Omaha sky line as the sun comes up on the first day.

I finished loop 1 in good spirits & well ahead of the 5 hours I had allotted for each loop. A quick pass through the Lodge to refill my pack & I was back out on the second loop. I left the lodge by myself & nearly missed the first turn off the pavement. I had had enough folks around at the beginning, I wasn’t paying attention that much to course markings. Now I was completely alone & really needed to pay attention! Loop 2 went great! I started to notice some new things about the course that I hadn’t seen on loop 1. I was running well & finding sections where I could get my legs moving a bit quicker. It felt good to run a little faster in places. I could feel my glutes working on the steep climbs & I was excited to note that my body was feeling strong and durable.

Cruising into the Lodge at the end of loop 1.

While on loop 1 I had had the occasion to run with some people and chat with them along the way, but now on loop 2, I was totally by myself. I still had 1 more full loop before I would pick up a pacer & A LOT of miles left to go. I elected to put in my ear buds & listen to a podcast. Generally speaking, I don’t listen to anything besides music & then it’s only in the very later stages of a race. But because I was already running solo, I decided to add earbuds to help some of these middle miles pass a bit faster.

Photo by Kylie Lang.

The podcast & music helped the miles pass & I was back to the Lodge at the end of loop 2 with just over 8 hours on the clock. I took the time to change my shoes & socks. The dry soil had worked its way into my socks & I could feel the grit between my toes. I still had one loop to go before I picked up Kelly for pacing duties. I was worried about running out of daylight on loop 3, but Alisha & Kelly assured me that I was moving well enough & I wouldn’t need a light until they met me at the 11.5 mile aid station this loop.

My pace started to slow on loop 3. It wasn’t as easy to get the legs to move on the flats, the climbs were feeling harder & the steep descents were feeling more steep than they had previously. I was still in a good frame of mind, but everything was feeling a little more difficult. I was excited to have a pacer soon. I still hadn’t had any other runners near me since loop 1. The small field of runners doing the 100 mile distance had really gotten spread out. Overall, I don’t mind running alone. I do a lot of my long runs by myself on the weekends & all but one run during the week is solo. However, after 12 hours of running solo, I was definitely ready for some company!

Sunset on loop 3. I kept my face covered a lot of the time to avoid over drying my mouth & face from the wind.

Kelly was my first pacer & she would run all of loop 4 with me & loop 5 until mile 11.5. So just over a loop and a half. It was dark when Kelly & I left the Lodge on loop 4 & as usual, we were alone. This was going to be a “night cruise.” Keep moving in a purposeful way, continue to eat well, and not over analyze the pace. It was going to be dark for a long time & I still had 50 more miles to go.

Kelly & I heading out into the darkness (with snacks!)

Loop 4 was probably the most mentally challenging loop. Each climb & descent would need to be covered 2 more times. Mentally it felt like a lot. One of the things I’ve noticed about human behavior is how we like to think ahead - we are really one of the only creatures who thinks about the future. Look at your dog - they’re not thinking about what’s coming next, they’re just happy to be curled up next to you on the couch. But humans, we’re always thinking about what’s next. And while there can be value in looking ahead & planning, sometimes we lose sight of what’s right in front of us. What’s important in this moment. Loop 4 was practice being in the moment. I couldn’t rush the miles. I couldn’t rush the loop. I couldn’t rush my body. The ups & downs of my energy were going ebb & flow & I couldn’t rush that either. I had to stay present.

Finishing a loop in the night.

Kelly & I finished loop 4 & back at the lodge I changed my socks one more time. We headed out on Loop 5 to meet Alisha at the 11.5 mile aid station. The miles passed & Kelly told me all about the environmental significance of the area where we were. It was super interesting! If you want to know more, I’m happy to share, but we’ll save that for a long run on another day.

Soon we rolled into the 11.5 mile aid station on loop 5 & Alisha joined me for the remainder of the miles. I was definitely tired. By this time I had been running for 22 hours, it was 3am. There was a lot more hiking and a lot less running. My skin under my pack was feeling raw & I had chaffing in a few other notable places as well.

Starting loop 6 with Alisha. Bacon in hand!

When Alisha & I got back to the Lodge at the end of loop 5, I knew I needed to address the chafing under my pack. I have a history of chafing my back from my pack, bra & clothing. One year my race was saved by a volunteer using Tegederm on my skin to help protect it. Tegederm is a sterile, clear skin covering used in hospitals. I had purchased some to have in my drop bag, just in case. We pulled that out & Alisha applied it to my back. It made all the difference! For a point of reference, I had a massage a week after this race & my massage therapist asked if I had slid down a hill on my back because of the scars that were there… nope - just chafing from my pack over 100 miles (insert face palm emoji here…)

Remember that wind I mentioned earlier. The wind during the race was brutal. Running across the ridges the wind would almost stop you in your tracks. There were times early in the race I would walk to conserve energy because running into the wind was so difficult. There was another time that the wind nearly blew me off my feet on a ridge. The wind would catch your jacket & whip any loose fabric like a kite. As Alisha & I were running on loop 6, that wind finally died down when the sun came up on Sunday morning.

The sun came up, the wind died down & the morning was gorgeous. The daytime highs on Sunday were forecasted to be well into the high 40’s. It was going to be a beautiful day. However, I was dressed for those overnight cold temps that were freezing our hydration hoses. Managing my layers on that last loop was a challenge!

The last loop was very gratifying because I knew I wouldn’t need to climb that hill or run that out an back another time. One of the analogies I used during the event was that I was “dating the course.” Each loop was a “date,” and the course was showing me something different each loop.

The very sad looking turn around sign at the end of an out and back section.

Loop 1 showed me all the best characteristics; it was new, fun & exciting. Loop 2 had a lot of the things I loved on loop 1 and few new surprises - the things I had missed on loop 1. Loop 3 & 4 were more of the same, but by loop 5, all of those new & exciting attributes were now simply annoying. And by loop 6, we were getting divorced! No more first steep descent, no more running the pavement through the campground, no more ridge running out and back, no more…

I’m so glad I opted for 1 more race of the season. It felt good to run a new (to me) course, push myself & practice a lot of the lessons I encourage my clients to do. Find something challenging, stay present, & know you are stronger than you think.

Finished!!! With the help of two amazing women!

Upon “divorcing” the course on loop 6, I finished my race in 29:05 - this planted me as 2nd woman and 7th finisher overall. What a race!

Thank you to Hichcock Nature Center for hosting the event, GOATZ for organizing the event, all the volunteers & most importantly, Alisha & Kelly, and my super supportive hubby, Matt, for holding down the fort at home. These events may be considered “solo” but they most certainly are not.

Thank you for all of you for reading along & until next time, go forth & be awesome.

Superior 100 DNF Edition

Superior 100 Trail Race is an annual event that takes place on Minnesota’s north shore of Lake Superior. A celebration of running, this weekend spent on the Superior Hiking Trail is like none other.

Time on the trail with amazing humans fills my cup no matter the outcome. I have attempted this race 9 times in the last 10 years. A decade later I have my 2nd DNF on this course - did not finish or as I like to frame it - “did nothing fatal.”

Starting the race this year I was not 100%. 3 weeks prior I had an incident that injured my back & sent me into full on recovery mode. My training leading up to the taper phase of the training cycle was on point. I had followed the plan my coach had given me to the best of my ability. I was ready to taper - the taper is a phase of training where you slowly dial your training volume down to rest & recover before the event. Instead of dialing my volume down I had to completely stop training to allow my body to heal.

I ran only a handful of times - no more than 3 miles at a time in the 3 weeks leading up to the race. Instead I spent my time working with my chiropractor, massage therapist, physical therapist & doing mobility work. Each day leading up to the race I remained hopeful that I could start. On Wednesday afternoon of race week I finally felt good enough to really consider starting the race.

Pre Race Photo thanks to Scott Rokis.

Race check in with my “Team Pocket Pickles.”

Friday morning arrived & I allowed myself to feel excited about the journey ahead. My back issue had evolved into a tight hip with some pain that periodically radiated down my leg. I woke up early & spent a lot of time working on mobility & stretching my hips before the 45 min drive to the start at Gooseberry Falls State Park.

Once at the race I stretched a bit more used the rest room, hugged my friends & off we went at 8am.

Race morning ready to go!

The first section is just over 4 miles of pavement before hitting the main Singletrack trail that will lead us to the finish at Lutsen Mountain 102 miles later. Those first 4 miles were a breeze as I spent the time with my friends, Alisha & Kelly, who I spend much of my time training with. Collectively we are known as “Team Pocket Pickles” or “TPP” for short.

Once on the Singletrack trail, the girls ran ahead & I knew I wouldn’t see them again until the finish or much later in the race.

I settled into a rhythm & tuned into how my body was feeling. My back felt ok, my hip felt ok & I was moving efficiently. The first aid station arrives at 8 miles in & it’s a quick in & out. Another 10 miles will pass before we see crew at Beaver Bay & this section is remarkably runnable. I continue to move well, but I can tell that my legs are not as fresh as I would like at this point. “Light & quick” I tell my legs & feet as I run along the trail. They respond. Overall I’m feeling good.

Somewhere in the early miles. Photo curtsey of Christian Worby.

“Light & quick” become a mantra as I pass the miles. When I need to hike as the trail climbs or gets technical I remind myself “every step counts.” I move forward & reach Beaver Bay as planned. Matt swaps out my running pack with one that is already filled & ready to go, & I’m out of the aid station in a matter of minutes.

Next up is the Silver Bay aid station & when I arrive we swap packs & then it’s going to be 19 miles before I see him again at the County Road 6 aid station.

Leaving Silver Bay I pull out my hiking poles in anticipation of the climb up to the the beautiful Bean & Bear overlook. My legs are feeling heavy & I’m trying not to ruminate on the lack of training I’ve had the last 3 weeks. I keep my “light & quick” & “every step counts” mantras at the top of mind as I feel the fatigue of the last 25 miles settle into my legs. When I start to think negatively, I remind myself to look around & find something beautiful. When I zoom out of my body & look around, I do find beauty. Ferns changing from green to brown, a pop of red maple leaves, white birch bark in an otherwise green forest, there really is so much to take in! I remind myself to stay present. Be here now. Don’t worry about the miles ahead. Be here now. What do I need to do, right now? Eat. Hike. Drink. Trot along. Stay present.

Bean & Bear Overlook. Photo by Christian Worby.

It’s a LONG 10 miles to the Tettegouche aid station but I know there will be friendly faces there; I allow myself to look forward to seeing them. There’s also a course reroute here & it feels like a lot of extra miles - but I remind myself that it’s not raining this year, so I can probably run the reroute & not get bogged down in the mud like last year. The aid station finally comes up & I’m immediately greeted by the folks from Performance Run Gym. My strength coach, Jack, was volunteering as well as my friend, Lauren & a handful of other super helpful folks. Plus they had bacon & cheese quesadillas!!! I was so ready for some savory foods!! After refilling fluids & grabbing snacks from my drop bag I am back on the trail.

Thank you Lauren & Jack & the crew from Performance Running Gym for the amazing aid station!

I walk out of the aid station munching on my quesadilla & letting my stomach digest the food. I know how long the next section can feel & I’m aware that the sun is going to go down before I get there. I’ve got my headlamp in my pack, but I had really hoped I wouldn’t need it so soon.

As I’m getting into this section fellow runner, Kevin, catches & passes me. I work hard to stay with him & enjoy some conversation to pass a mile or so. At the first big climb I can no longer hang with him & off into the distance he goes. It’s all good. I’m focusing on my mindset, staying present & looking for the beauty all around.

My legs are tired. I’m almost 40 miles in at this point. I’ve been running alone most of the day. My “light & quick” is no longer getting my legs to move. “Every step counts” is moving me down the trail, but it’s getting progressively more challenging. I decide to put some music on. This helps. The songs I have chosen are upbeat & positive. Some of them bring me to tears as I realize how truly grateful I am. I’m alone on the trail & I allow myself to feel ALLLLL the emotions. It was cathartic.

But the miles are passing slower & my legs really are tired. Descending the technical trail is getting harder. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this. Doubt starts to creep in. I look for beauty. I start to cry again. This time out of sadness. The sun is getting lower & it’s going to be dark soon. “Pull yourself together,” I tell myself. Crying won’t help me see when it gets dark - I don’t see well in the dark as it is.

Eventually I drop down the trail onto the paved road that leads to the aid station. I can’t even get my legs to run on pavement. They just aren’t moving.

I find my crew in the dark shadows of the brightly lit aid station.

I will pick up my pacer here. I’m not convinced I will continue, but I know I can’t make the decision before giving it one more shot. That last section was so long & I was so emotional. I need to get back to the business at hand, finishing what I started. I was also likely under fueling. Fuel, dry shirt, more lights & a pacer can make a big impact.

Eventually my pacer, Erin & I head out into the night. She assures me that if we just hike & digest what I ate, I will feel better. I trust her & settle into a hike. Sure enough things start to improve. I follow her foot steps thru the darkness. All I have to to do is keep up with her feet. We walk & jog trot our way into the night. We roll into the next aid station, Finland, at 51 miles at midnight. Matt is there for his last stop before he goes back to the house to sleep. I’m feeling better, but my legs are truly tired. The plan is to spend the next 26 miles with Erin & see Matt in the morning at mile 77.

The first part of this next section went ok. I had some annoying issues with my shoe & had trouble regulating my body temperature. But we were moving. Soon enough though my body was ready to be done. Food sounded horrible, I was so tired & the pain in my hip & back was starting to return. My pace dropped to a crawl. Erin was incredibly positive & focused on problem solving to help me keep moving. There wasn’t much she could do. My tolerance for pain was used up. I had been painful for the last 3 weeks. The idea of putting myself in more pain seemed unnecessary. Plus I didn’t want to make myself so painful that it would take weeks or months to recover. Sore muscles & blisters are one thing. But pushing myself into an overuse injury because my body is not working at 100% didn’t seem so smart.

The aid station following Finland was Sonju at 59 miles. There is no crew access & they won’t allow you to drop. We got there & I sat by the fire. I drank some coke & ate some hot food. Things weren’t good. My legs were shot. My hip was so tight. But I couldn’t stay there.

We walked out of Sonju & I was feeling defeated. My instincts were that I wasn’t going to make it another 40 plus miles. I got more calories in but it didn’t help my hip. I needed to be done.

It’s only 4 miles from Sonju to the Crosby Manitou aid station. About half way thru the section, I made the decision I needed to stop. Unfortunately, there is no cell service at the next aid station & Matt was back at the house sleeping - an hour away. Erin & I brainstormed ideas on what to do. I decided to see if I had enough cell service where I was to call Matt. Matt answered & I told him of my decision. He agreed to drive out to get us. It was 4:45am. He’d barely gotten any sleep. Luckily our friends, Eric & Michelle, were at the house & overheard the phone call. Eric agreed to keep Matt company on the dark, remote drive to the aid station.

Eventually Erin & I arrived at the aid station & I checked in to let them know I wouldn’t be continuing. I was & still am, 100% at peace with my decision.

These races should be fun. They are a chance to push ourselves & see what we are made of. It takes courage to start but I also believe it takes courage to make the decision to stop. I could have hiked it in. I wasn’t pushing cut offs (yet). But I needed to honor the things my body was telling me. At 100k I really felt like I had run 100 miles.

My DNF may officially stand for “Did not finish” but I know it stands for much more than that. It stands for honoring your body, honoring the journey that we are on & knowing that these 3 letters on one race result do not define who we are as runners or as a humans.

Finish Line with “TPP!”

Three Days of Syllamo

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” was the text message I received from my coach in the days leading up to leaving for North Central Arkansas to run a 3 day stage race. This message would play on repeat in my brain in the quiet moments on the trail when things got rough.

Sit back, and grab a cup of coffee, as we’re going on an adventure.

Coming through Fat Man’s Gap during the 50 miler on day 2. Photo by M. Barton.

A little background - Three Days of Syllamo is an old school trail race located 2 hours North of Little Rock, Arkansas. There is no cell service at the race start & limited service along the course, which adds to its old school feel. Runners can choose to run one, two or all three days. Day one is 50k (31 miles,) day 2 is 50 miles & day 3 is listed as a 20k (it was closer to 14 miles on my watch.)

I traveled to the race with my friend Steph & her daughter Ava, and we met up with some other friends from Minnesota once we were there. We had a big group of folks representing MN & WI. We were all so excited for sunshine, dirt, & snow-free trails!

Quite the crew from MN & WI!

Day 1

Day 1 started us out with the 50k distance. The sun was out & it was chilly. This would be the warmest day of the weekend, topping out at just over 50 degrees, but windy.

Steph & I at the start of day 1.

Once we left the start/finish area, I dropped into line behind my friends, Steph, Julie, Kim & Maria, and we headed out on the first section of the course. There were lots of rocks and roots here and it took me a little while to get my body to remember how to run on this type of terrain. Since we’ve had snow for the last 4 months in MN, getting my brain to tell my feet how to navigate this felt slow and lethargic. We took some photos of the amazing rock formations along the way and soon we came to the river crossing.

These rocks were so cool!

Heading into the river on the way back from the aid station.

This section was an out and back to the far side of the river where there was an aid station, and the returning runners had warned us that it was deep. Since the aid station was just beyond the river and we would have to return this way, most of us dropped our packs on the river bank before heading across. I stepped into the river and found myself waist deep in chilly water immediately. Some runners were not so lucky & found the deeper sections & my amazing friend, Steph, simply elected to swim across! She claims Lake Superior is colder! It was still cold, but “fun” in some crazy way! To the aid station & then back across the river one final time. I got my pack on, dug out my gloves to hopefully stave off my raynauds (the numbness my hands get when exposed to cold) & pushed hard up the hill away from the river. I was still with my MN friends at this time, but it didn’t take long for me to realize they didn’t match my pace and I was by myself.

Heading into mile 9 aid station. A Hoff photo.

I checked into the next aid station at about mile 9 and would spend the remainder of the day running alone. The sun was out and I was warm enough I didn’t need my jacket, but depending on the wind I would need to take my gloves on or off repeatedly. I felt good, and tried to run a pace that wouldn’t leave me feeling trashed for the next day, but the message from my coach kept echoing through my head. Did I have another gear?

I had one fall about 13 or 14 miles in that resulted in a bloody knee and a nervous head space. I hate falling. And this fall was on a section that wasn’t even technical! Luckily it was some soft pine needle covered trail and other than a little blood, I was totally fine.

I came to an aid station about 10 miles from the finish and my friend, Doug, was there. He & the volunteers asked if I needed anything. I took off my pack assuming I needed to refill my water bladder. I had started with 2 liters of water in my pack that morning & hadn’t refilled it yet. Nope, plenty of water left! That’s a problem! I had to remember that everything I did on day 1 would impact how day 2 would go. If I ended up dehydrated today, that would cause issues for the even longer event on Saturday. I received a stern talking to from Doug & the volunteers & was headed on down the road section with goal of drinking down my bladder before the next aid station.

This section was 5 miles of road, mostly downhill & was a total blast! It was nice to have a respite from thinking about picking up my feet & navigating rocks & roots. I pushed my pace a little here and passed a number of runners. And I did drink my water!

The final aid station was 5 miles from the finish, I added some water to my pack, grabbed some snacks and headed down the trail. This section felt long & slow after the road section. It was technical, I wasn’t confident about my ability to stay on the correct route (a few more flags here would have been helpful) & I was mentally ready to be done. I was starting to think about how little time I actually had to recover between this & the 50 miler the next day.

The finish line came into view as I crossed a high ridge above the park. It was a a welcome sight. I finished day 1 in 7:37 for 32.4 miles on my watch. It wouldn’t be long before the rest of my friends finished, and I enjoyed soaking up the sun wrapped in a blanket while I waited for them. My soul was happy.

Day 2

Day 2 was the 50 mile event. It wasn’t going to be as warm as day 1 and we started at 6am in the dark, with temps below freezing. There was a 14 hour cut off for this race.

The course was an out and back, and utilized the same 5 mile section that we had finished on the day before. With our headlamps on & after a few words from the race director, we were on our way. I stepped into line with my MN friends again, and enjoyed the camaraderie of the group in the early miles. After running alone for the bulk of the day before, having some folks to chat with was a nice change. I struggle running in the dark and had underestimated my lighting needs when I had packed, tossing my headlamps in only as an after thought. This was fine in the beginning as we were all grouped fairly close together and I benefitted from the extra lights of the other runners. There were 85 people who started the race and with the narrow trail at the start, we were single file for the first little while. Later when I returned after the sun went down, I would struggle on this same trail.

Runners headed up the hill at the start of the 50 mile on day 2. S. Hoff photo.

For the first 8-9 miles of this race, I enjoyed the company of my MN friends as we casually hiked and jogged down the trail with conversation easily coming and enjoying the day. I wasn’t worried about pace, and my body felt good.

Before the 9 mile aid station I found myself ahead of my group and running solo again. It was time for me to settle in and see where the day would lead. There was a long stretch from mile 9-18 that only had an unmanned aid station with a water jug. I hiked and ran as the terrain would allow. I was comfortable and knew I could complete the distance at this effort.

At the 18.5 mile aid station I asked the volunteer what the cut off was here for the return trip. She told me it was 2:15pm. I looked at my watch and it was 11:15am. I was under the impression then that I had 3 hours to go to the turn around at mile 25 and get back here.

Now many of you know that math is not one of my strengths, and running math - the math that you do while running - that is even worse!! As I left that aid station with over 5 hours on my legs just that day, I wasn’t convinced I had it in me to make it back there in 3 hours. But I figured I needed to just keep running anyway, so I settled into my run/walk/hike pace that had gotten me that far. I met up with another runner, Steve, in this section and we chatted our way to the next aid station at mile 23.5. We didn’t waste any time here, as I knew we needed to hit the turn around and get back to that same aid station again without getting cut. I still wasn’t confident that I could make it happen, but I needed to try.

The turn around was “on your honor” as it was simply a cone set in the trail in the middle of the woods. There was no one there to punch your bib or check that you went the whole way. Steve and I left the aid station together to go out to the turn around. It seemed like it took FOREVER to find that cone. Mile 25 clicked by on my watch, 7 hours clicked by on my watch & my headspace started to take a downturn.

The turn around cone in the woods.

“It was a 14 hour cut off, I’m already past 7 hours. How am I ever going to make it back in time? They are going to cut me at the next aid station.” These were the thoughts in my head.

I eventually saw the cone. Thank Goodness! It was 7:06 on my watch. I just knew they would pull me at the next aid station.

On the way back, I saw my MN friends, they told me I could make it. I wasn’t so sure.

When I got to the aid station at 23.5/26.5, I was expecting to get pulled. They told me that I was under the cut off & I could keep going! I was shocked. I didn’t waste any time here and left without grabbing snacks or water. Steve who I’d met up with earlier ran out of that aid station like a man on fire. I ate some snacks out of my pack & hiked on down the trail.

I was tired. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen at the next aid station. Would I get pulled there? What if I did? What if I didn’t? If I didn’t get pulled, I would have to try to finish in under 14 hours. That would mean running a negative split because it took me 7 hours & 6 minutes on the way out. Who runs a negative split in a 50 miler?

I hiked and jogged on. Thinking about what would happen when I got pulled - I’d hope to have enough cell service to call call Doug or Steph for a ride, and I'd go back and take a hot shower and a nap. Gosh that all sounded pretty awesome.

The hill up to the 18.5/31.5 aid station was brutal. I was looking forward to being told I my day was over.

I got there & asked them what the plan was - imagine my surprise when they said I could continue on! WHAT?? “You’re not going to pull me?” I asked. Nope they replied, you can go on, you just have to finish in 14 hours.

Wait. What???

I filled my water, grabbed some snacks and headed out.

Now while I REALLY wanted to be done, I wasn’t willing to quit. This race was about to get real.

I don’t remember what time it was when I left, but my “runners” math told me I needed to be under 4 mph or 15 min per mile pace to finish. That was definitely quicker than my outbound pace.

“What did I need to do to make this happen?” I asked myself.

Fuel. Hydrate. Caffeine. Belief. Don’t underestimate yourself, was my reply.

I set my mind. I would finish. I had the gift of continuing on, I wasn’t going to waste it.

Steve who I’d met up with earlier, was on my heels now too, and we ran together for a lot of that long 9 mile section between aid stations.

I kept pushing the pace. My legs responded. I ate, drank, and ran. I was fine. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually feeling better than I had earlier.

The second to last aid station appeared at 9 miles to go. Steph was there and I was feeling good. She helped me with a few things and I was on my way.

Thankfully I spotted the arrow sketched into this rock or who knows where I would have ended up!

I knew it would get dark before I was done, but I was starting to see that I would be able to finish this in under 14 hours as long as I kept pushing. I would need a few extra minutes for that last mile of technical trail in the dark.

I came to the final aid station, running up the slight incline to the volunteers. “You look great” they said. I felt great! Well, maybe not great, but I had my eye on the finish line, and if nothing went wrong, I’d be golden.

I grabbed a cup of coke & a cheese quesadilla & off I went. I knew this last section now, I’d run it once the day before and then again this morning on the way out. I started checking off land marks. My pace was slowing as I expected it to. I was REAL tired now!

The coke did its job and kept me moving. Steve caught back up to me and we shared a little conversation. It was starting to get dark & I pulled out both my headlamps. I would need as much light as I had.

The clock was ticking and I was continuing to push. We were less than 2 miles from the finish when I stubbed my toe & went down hard. My whole body hit the ground like a ton of bricks. My watch recognized an “incident” and asked if I needed to send an alert. Steve offered me a hand to get up & I accepted. That shook my soul. I could feel bruises forming on my shins and knees, but I was ok.

I told Steve to run on, I would be fine, but I was walking it in. I had 1.5 miles to go & about 30 minutes to do it in. I knew I’d make it. But I REALLY didn’t want to fall again.

Soon, high on the ridge, I saw the finish line below. What a sight. I made my way down the stairs & shuffled to the finish line where my friends were all waiting for me.

Steph wrapped me in a blanket & I blinked back tears. I had, in fact, ran a negative split in 13 hours and 54 minutes to finish under the cut off. I was exhausted.

Day 3

Day 3 is the 20k - technically I think 20k would be 12.4 miles, but this one ended up being about 13.8 miles.

Day 3. Here we go!

Sunday morning came quickly since I didn’t return to our rental house until 8:30pm the night before, and needed to eat & shower. Those things take a lot longer after a day of running than they might otherwise! Plus we had to pack up everything for our trip home prior to leaving for the race that morning. Luckily the race didn’t start until 9am, and as an early morning person, that felt like a late start! But we needed all the time we had.

Sunday was probably the coldest morning, well below freezing and I knew I wouldn’t be moving quickly so dressed in long tights and multiple layers.

The race started and my legs did not want to move. I tried to run with the group as everyone took off, but it was not happening. A strong hike would have to suffice for today. There were more folks running this event than the other days and it was fun to have the energy of other runners around. Plus even though it was chilly, the sun was out and the wind had died down from the previous days.

I hiked and tried to jog to get going, and my legs felt ok on the climbs and flats, but downhill or anything technical brought me to a slow crawl. The course was beautiful and knowing that I would be returning to more snow & cold I tried to savor the experience of one final run on dirt trails.

Soaking it all in on day 3!

I ended up running the bulk of this loop with my friend, Maria, who made the miles pass quickly as we traded stories about our dogs. We finished running in together & it was a wonderful capstone to a weekend of pushing my preconceived limits.

Finishing the loop with my friend, Maria. It was a great weekend!

All smiles at the end of day 3. And I did it all for a ROCK! Ha! Ha!

Final Thoughts

This was an awesome event and I am so lucky to be surrounded by some amazing athletes, strong women & wonderful friends. We never know exactly what an event will present to us or how we will handle it. These events remind me to stay present in real life, monitor my thoughts and continue to fight complacency. Keep moving forward my friends, and thanks for reading. Until next time.

-Kate

2022 Superior 100

“Every accomplishment begins with the decision to try.”

John F. Kennedy

Pre race photo by Scott Rokis.

When the weather forecast for my most recent Superior Trail 100 Mile race changed from sunny & 70’s to a 100% chance of rain, I knew that my only option was to not worry about my original time goal, but to set my mind, do my best, and aim for another finish on this course.

I’ve toed the line for this event 7 other times since 2013, with 6 finishes prior to this year, and in all of those years, it has not rained for any significant amount of time. I’ve done other events in the rain and trained on the course in the rain, so I was prepared for the slippery rocks, muddy conditions, & wet feet.

The rain started Thursday night & continued into Friday morning. Matt drove me from our condo at Lutsen to the start at Gooseberry State Park, about  50 minutes away. As we headed down Hwy 61 and the rain continued to pelt the windshield, I began to get more and more nervous about the day(s) ahead.

At Gooseberry State Park, there was nervous energy as runners and their crews were milling around prior to the start of the race. It seemed to stop raining as we lined up for the 7:50am start.  

Getting excited for the day ahead with my long time friend, Steph.

We started 10 min early due to a 1.8 mile course reroute in the Tettegouche section. We would have just over 38 hours to cover 102 miles of rocky, root covered trails. 

At the start, I connected with my long time trail running friend, Steph, and we ran many of those early miles together. The first 4 miles of the course are on the paved path that runs along Hwy 61. It’s a nice way to stretch the legs, enjoy some conversation with fellow runners & spread out the pace groups before filing onto the singletrack trail that we would follow all the way to Lutsen, 98 miles away. It wasn’t long before the rain, which had held off at the start, started falling, and within 20-30 min, I was soaked to the skin & my shoes were completely wet.

Soaked but smiling in the early miles. Photo by Jodee Thomas.

I had my hiking poles folded & secured to my pack for the first 4 miles, and as we made the turn on to the singletrack trail, I pulled them out & would need them for balance & stability for the remainder of the event. Steph stepped in behind me & we continued to enjoy some easy conversation & find our rhythm on our way to the first aid station at Split Rock about 8+ miles in.

The singletrack trail was a river of mud & staying clean and dry was impossible.  I just continued to hike and run as the conditions allowed, and gave no further thought to attempting to avoid the mud. 

My initial goal for the race was aiming for a personal best time.  When the forecast changed to rainy, wet conditions, my goals also changed.  My new goals included running smart in the wet conditions (“do nothing dumb” was my mantra on Friday,) attempt to get to County Road 6 (mile 42.4) before dark, and finish before dark the following day.

It’s over 18 miles before you see your crew for the first time.  Matt was my crew & I knew he’d be waiting at the Beaver Bay aid station when I arrived.  The rain had let up some when I rolled into the aid station. My aidstation plan was to swap my hydration pack out for a fresh one that was already filled and ready to go. This would hopefully expedite my time in and out of aid stations. In a matter of minutes, I was back on the trail with Steph and we were headed to Silver Bay, about 5 miles away.

On the way to Beaver Bay. Photo by Scott Rokis.

Muddy legs in the first 18 miles!

At Silver Bay, mile 23, I took the time to change my socks and attempt to clean my feet off. My socks were so nasty that I ended up just throwing them in the garbage.  There was no way I would ever get all the mud out of them! As I prepared to leave the aid station, I made sure I had plenty of snacks in my pack - it would be 10 miles before the next aid station & another 9+ from there to County Road 6, where I would see Matt again.

Shortly out of Silver Bay, I found myself alone on the trail for the first time that day. This section climbs high up on ridges and has amazing views of Bean & Bear Lakes followed by some flowing singletrack into Tettegouche State Park. I was feeling good and running strong.  The rain seemed to have let up some and the trail was in surprisingly good shape. Late in this section was going to be the reroute that would add 1.8 miles to the course this year. 

I turned off the singletrack hiking trail onto the reroute - a mowed ATV trail that gradually headed downhill. We were now going all the way down to Hwy 61 to cross the river since the bridge we would normally have used was badly damaged in the spring floods. While this trail wasn’t overly technical, mostly just wet grass, it passed through some low areas that were covered in standing water. With no good way around, I just needed to go straight through it. Some of these areas were deep pits that wrapped my legs in mud. 

When I finally rolled into the Tettegouche Aid Station at mile 33.1, I was beginning to feel a little beat down. Luckily this aid station was filled with some amazing volunteers that got me a cup of coke & a cheese quesadilla. I pulled some necessities out of my drop bag & was on my way again. 

It was going to be a long 9 miles to County Road 6 (mile 42.4) where I would meet Matt and get ready for the night sections. I knew I would be hard pressed to get there before it was dark. I had a headlamp in my pack that I could pull out when needed. 

Midway through this section, I connected with some other runners and as the sun set & fog moved in we stuck together to help light up the trail.  The fog provided a new challenge as our headlamps lit it up, similar to driving in fog with your high beams on. It was very hard to see. There were 3 or 4 of us making our collective way towards the aid station.

Making my way towards the aid station as night rolls in. Scott Rokis photo.

It was completely dark when I arrived.  I found Matt and my pacer, Jen, and made the preparations for going into the night. I changed into a dry tank top, grabbed my brighter headlamp & waist light (a super bright light that I actually wear around my waist.) My pack was ready to go & I had a turkey wrap & some broth before heading down the trail.

Jen would run with me from here through the night, covering about 30 miles. It was 7.6 miles to the next aid station where I would meet Matt for the last time that night. Once we got to Finland at mile 50, I changed shoes and socks again, refueled, grabbed my fresh pack & we headed back into the darkness.

Having a pacer through the night can be very helpful. Someone to keep you on track, remind you to eat & generally keep you moving efficiently can be advantageous. The miles I spent with Jen were enjoyable. Plus her observations about my energy levels in relation to fueling were on point and helped me later in the race as well.

We navigated to rooty and rocky trail to the Sonju Aid Station; and then on to the Crosby Manitou Aid Station, all while riding the waves of energy and conversation.  The miles dragged on, and while I was moving consistently, I had lost a lot more time during the day Friday than I had hoped for. It was 4:30am before I left Crosby Manitou Aid Station (mile 62) with another long 9.5 mile section ahead of us. 

The Crosby section seems to take forever..  There is something about this section that can be mentally challenging.  A technical downhill to the Manitou River followed by an incredibly long climb up to Horseshoe Ridge.  Then a few more miles before crossing the Caribou River.  From there it is still another 2 miles of smoother trail before the Sugarloaf aid station.  The final 2 miles to Sugarloaf are more runnable than most of the trail, and I worked on getting my legs to turn over a little faster here.  I was surprised that I was ACTUALLY RUNNING!!! I’d been on my feet for 24 hours by now, and after endless miles of hiking over rocks, roots, and mud, I was running! It was so fun! But I sure was ready to see that aid station come into view!

Jen & I running into Sugarloaf Aid station as the sun comes up. Scott Rokis photo.

Once arriving at Sugarloaf I grabbed some real food. The sun was up by now, and I was ready to start to wrap this up.  With 5.5 miles to go to the next aid station, I needed to keep moving.

At the next aid station, I met Matt for the first time that morning. Jen was finished pacing, and my friend, Michelle was geared up to take me to the finish line. I rolled into this aid station feeling a little less enthusiastic.  The miles were starting to settle into my bones. After a sock change and a couple bites of food, we headed down the trail.

This next section was rough.  I struggled with maintaining my energy & the idea of how many more miles I still needed to cover was starting to weigh me down. I remember saying when I left the prior aid station, “I feel like garbage.” A fellow trail runner who was waiting for their runner, wisely reminded me that it would get better. He was right, it was just going to take some time.

When things get tough, quitting is still not an option. You have to problem solve & adjust to see what else might work. In these long events, so often it boils down to nutrition.  The more I can eat, the better I’ll move.  If I can keep the calories trickling in, my energy level will stay higher and I will be able to run and power hike more than I “zombie” walk. But the idea of eating more food can certainly be a challenge!

Michelle & I eventually arrived at the Temperance Aid Station at mile 83.9. Matt had picked up some bacon/egg/cheese wraps for me from the local baking company & I was excited to get some more real food! I took one of them with me as we left the aid station.  I alternated between eating my wraps and energy gels and found that my energy level was better. We chatted with some fellow runners and enjoyed the camaraderie of spending another day on the trail. This section climbs up Carlton Peak, a challenging climb on a normal day, but at 85 or so miles in, the rocks feel much larger than usual! On the backside of Carlton peak, I hear a familiar voice. It’s my friend, and fellow Team Pocket Pickles member, Alisha! She was running the 50 mile race & I was so excited to see her. She looked great & we shared a quick hug before she headed on down the trail in front of me.  Seeing her added a big pep to my step as we made our way towards the Sawbill Aid Station at mile 89.

There are only 2 sections of trail remaining at this point. I’m really ready to wrap this up! I try to get in and out of the aid station as efficiently as possible. The next section isn’t long at 5.6 miles, but can certainly feel long as the fatigue of 2 days on the trail is taking its toll. The rhythm of the day goes a bit like this - eat, drink, run, walk, eat, drink, walk, shuffle, eat, drink, hike… It's getting a bit monotonous, but we’re still moving. Soon I hear another familiar voice behind me. It’s my friend, Kelly!!! Kelly is another member of Team Pocket Pickles and is making her comeback to trail running after an accident a year ago. Seeing her looking so strong makes my heart soar! A big hug & she is off down the trail looking like the rockstar she is. Again my energy rebounds & I’m within striking distance of the final aid station.

Oh, the Oberg Aid Station. Sitting at mile 94.8, it's the final oasis before the final push to the finish line. You’re so close to the finish line, but at over 7 miles away, it can take almost 3 hours to get there this late in the race. One amazing volunteer has made cookies & I thoroughly enjoy the decadence of it. Kelly’s mom was there & poured me a shot of pickle juice! Cheers to Team Pocket Pickles! Just on the way out of the aid station, I hear that there are mashed potatoes available. I definitely want mashed potatoes!! A volunteer hands me a paper cup full of mashed potatoes with a spoon & I take it with me as we make our way towards the final big climbs of the day.

Happiness is a scratch made cookie at the final aid station!

I am able to tuck the cup of mashed potatoes in a pocket of my pack, and I literally eat spoonfusl of mashed potatoes as I run and hike along. These may have had magical properties. My energy levels are up & I’m excited to be moving closer to the finish. I am still eager to get it done before dark, but I have a headlamp with me just in case.  The camaraderie on the trail in this section is a ton of fun. We are all making our collective way to Lutsen. There are 4 of us - myself and Michelle, another 100 miler, and a 50 miler that are hanging together.  We check in on time of day & distance remaining, and decide to try to push for a sunset finish. Michelle takes the lead, and sets the pace to get us to the finish line before the sun sets. We are moving strong & working hard to get there.  It’s not easy to find another gear at this point, but it is satisfying to be moving through this section slightly faster than I have in previous years. 

Making my way to the finish, one step at a time. Photo by Michelle Volk.

Soon the Poplar River comes into view & it’s not far from here to the finish.  We come out on the road at Lutsen and head towards the finish line. The other 100 mile runner & the 50 mile runner take off ahead of us. I’m so happy to be here & the sun has literally just dropped below the horizon.  We are getting it done before dark! As I turn onto the grass that leads to the finish line, I am running strong. How the human body is able to run, not shuffle, not hike, but actually RUN after 100+ miles is remarkable to me. 

Running it in! Photo by Michelle Volk.

While I did not reach my goal of a personal best time on this course, I am still happy with my finish. Navigating the rain, slippery conditions, and 1.8 mile reroute on Friday all added to the adventure.  

Trail running is never really a solo sport. The support of the volunteers, the dedication of the race director & the ongoing love & loyalty of my crew and pacers can not be overstated. These folks are the bread and butter of ultra endurance events. It was an honor to share the trail with some many other amazing runners and I am always grateful for a strong body and mind that allows me to do these events. 

Finish line feels!!!

If you’ve made it this far, THANK YOU! May you be inspired to go do something fun and challenging, because when we feel good about what we can do, we can do more good for others. These events are simply tools for showing the true nature of the human spirit. 

Go forth, and be your true awesome self!

Never Summer 100k - Sweet Redemption

I recently finished the Never Summer 100k trail race held in the Never Summer Wilderness in Colorado.  This remote mountain race boasts 14,000’ of climbing over 64 miles at an elevation of 8,000-12,000 feet above sea level.

In 2019, my friends & I attempted this race, but due to storms while above treeline, we DNF-d (did not finish) at 31 miles. It was time to go back for this unfinished business.

My friend, Alisha, & I flew out Thursday prior to the race & met up with our friend, Jen, from Wisconsin.  The 3 of us were all going to toe the line together on race morning.

We stayed in the small (population 600) town of Walden, CO, about 20 miles west of  the race start.  The race takes place in State Forest State Park.  This is a remote mountain race with no cell phone service at the start/finish & most of the race itself.

Good Morning from Walden, CO.

The race started at 5:30am on Saturday morning with a 24 hour cut off time.  There are various cut offs at aid stations along the way, so you need to stay on track with your pace to manage the sub-24 hour time limit.

Alisha, Jen & I started together that morning.  We had discussed prior to the race our goals & knew that staying together was likely an impossible task, & to “run our own races.” The race starts off on a nice section of flatter trail for the first couple miles that allows the approximately 350 runners to spread out a bit before the serious climbing begins. But it really isn’t long before you start climbing up the first big peak.

A trio of Midwest Ladies ready to take on the mountains!

I set the pace in the early miles, with Alisha on my heels.  I felt strong & confident. With the sun coming up, I’m excited to “write a new story” for this race.

100k Elevation Profile

The first aid station is over 11 miles in, so we settled into a rhythm of climbing, eating, drinking, descending & taking in the unbelievable views. As we descended down from Lake Agnes about 9 miles in, some loose pebbles rolled under my shoes & my feet went out from under me, sending me backwards down on my butt.  I landed HARD on my backside catching myself with my hands behind me. Alisha was behind me & saw me land on a pointed rock. The pain took my breath away. I wasn’t convinced initially that I was ok.  Upon standing I felt nauseous.  I took some deep breaths & decided to walk gingerly forward. The pain started to recede & I began to move a bit faster.  Luckily within a short distance of my fall was a nice stretch of gravel road that I could run/walk to see how I actually felt.  The pain was a dull ache after a few minutes & I didn’t think that I’d broken my tail bone, which was my initial thought.  I popped 2 Tylenol for good measure & we pressed on.

The beautiful Lake Agnes, 8 or so miles in.

We checked off the first aid station & enjoyed some nice downhill running toward the second one at 18.3 miles.  The Diamond Aid Station at 18.3 miles would have our first drop bag & provide a reset before the next giant climb up Diamond Peak.  Diamond Peak is where we got caught in a thunder & hail storm in 2019 which ultimately caused our DNF’s.  We were eager to get up & over Diamond Peak in an attempt to write our new story.

Alisha & I took off together towards Diamond, running & hiking at our own pace, but never being too far from one another. The day was turning hot & the climb up Diamond Peak was fully exposed.

That high point in the distance…. that’s Diamond Peak, where we are headed!

Taking the climb one step at a time, I finally made it up Diamond Peak!! Alisha was waiting for me at the top & we celebrated with a photo & a fist bump! But there was no time to waste, we still needed to stay ahead of the cut offs.  We descended off Diamond Peak & enjoyed some nice running across the vast expanse of the saddle & soon we were making our way into the Montgomery Aid Station at 24.3 miles. What a different year this was already turning out to be.  It was a hot day without a cloud in the sky; no storms & plummeting temps like 2019! We rolled through the aid station together & we were off to Ruby Jewel aid station another 6.2 miles away.  This primarily downhill section felt a little long, as we were eager to get there & see the back half of the course we had missed 3 years ago. Alisha was running strong & pulled ahead, but we ended up arriving at the aid station only a couple minutes apart.

Making our way up Diamond Peak. It is so steep!

Still climbing! Straight towards the sky!

We made it!!!! The views are amazing!

And that’s where we’re headed across the vast expanse of the saddle toward Montgomery Aid Station!

It was proving to be an uncommonly hot day & we both needed to reset here.  The next section was going to be a long climb in the heat of the afternoon with very limited aid. Changing socks, refilling packs, using the pit toilet & making sure we had what we needed out of the drop bags before we continued on. It was going to be a long 9+ miles to the Clear Lake Aid Station.

The hike up to the Clear Lake Aid Station didn’t disappoint.  4.5 miles into the section, we arrived at Kelly Lake. It was beautiful! We had to cross a long boulder field along the edge of the lake. On the other side of the boulder field was the aid station. This was an “emergency” aid station with a ham radio operator, basic first aid & some water treated from Kelly Lake if one needed it.  I was surprised when I went to drink from my hydration bladder a mile or so out from Kelly Lake that I had drained my 2 Liter bladder of water already.  I was grateful for an opportunity to get some water before the next 4.7 miles to the Clear Lake Aid Station.

I lost sight of Alisha before the boulder field & then stopping to fill my bladder part way, I knew Alisha was going to hit the next Aid Station before me. Solo, I continued on to Clear Lake Aid Station.

Kelly Lake & the leading edge of the boulder field.

We connected in the Clear Lake Aid Station & we headed out on the 4.2 mile out & back together.  This short section of trail to the actual Clear Lake was admittedly kind of annoying.  We left the aid station, headed out 2.1 miles or so to Clear Lake, got our bibs punched by volunteers at Clear Lake & then headed back the same way we came to return to the same Clear Lake Aid Station we had just left.  As I hiked up out of Clear Lake 1 Aid station, I was hopeful that the views of Clear Lake wouldn’t disappoint.  I was starting to struggle keeping decent pace & getting a bit tired. Alisha was hiking & running strong & I she continued to rock these high mountain trails.

We met up again at the turn around (not nearly as climatic a view as I had been hoping for…) and we headed back to the Clear Lake Aid Station.  It was starting to get dark & Alisha ran ahead.  She was so strong! I, on the other hand, was starting to be a putzy pony.  And I realized my Garmin watch was acting weird.  On the way back to Clear Lake 2, I realized it was pausing itself & acting like it needed to download an update.  I’m not sure what happened, but from this point on, my watch was useless for anything but for the time of day. I could only estimate my pace & had no idea how far I had gone. This was super annoying.

Clear Lake turn around….

The sun set completely & I had to stop to pull out my waist light.  I still had a baseball cap on, so I knew my headlamp would be shadowy with the brim of my hat, so I figured I’d wait until the aid station for my headlamp & just use my waist light.  This was probably not my smartest move.

The 2.1 miles back to Clear Lake aid station were taking FOREVER! It was dark & I was being cautious on the downhills since my fall earlier in the day. And just as I was getting comfortable in the dark, my feet went out from under me again! This time I twisted as to not hit my butt again & scraped my left arm down the rocks.  A rather significantly loud F-Bomb was said out loud as I hit the ground a second time that day.  I knew there were scrapes on my arm, but without a headlamp I couldn’t tell how bad they were.  A racer came up from behind & helped me to my feet & asked if I was ok.  I was fine, it was just some road rash, but my ego was hurt. More deep breaths.

I finally arrived at the aid station. Alisha was there, but was very close to being ready to move on.  I told her that I fell, but was fine & she needed to go on ahead.  There was no way I would be ready to go in a matter of minutes & no way at this point that I could keep up with her. She headed off into the night.

I stayed at the aid station for a bit.  A volunteer cleaned my arm while I refueled & got ready for the long night ahead.

There has only been one other race where I have not had a pacer for the overnight section, so I usually have a friend with me during night. I wasn’t worried about the night, and heck, it was “only” 64 miles, not 100, and mostly “downhill.” How bad could it be?

Ha! Kate, you should know better! Respect the distance, respect the environment, respect the fact that you’d put in 44+ miles in at 9,000 + feet! Remember how I wanted to write a “new story” for this race? There’s always something to learn & something to cut you down to your core in an ultramarathon.

I left the Clear Lake Aid station by myself & into the night I went. I wasn’t scared, but I was on high alert.  Where are the trail markings? How far to the next aid station? And remember my watch was only telling me time of day, and nothing else.  I knew that I tend to run slower than I think I am in the dark, so I tried to keep pushing forward. It was 6.2 miles to the next aid station.

I was starting to get very tired. My pace slowed.  What was a strong hike, turned into a slow walk. I really wanted to sit down.  I was having trouble getting in calories. I’d occasionally sit down on a fallen tree to eat a bite or two from my pack.  Eventually I made it to the aid station. I checked my drop bag, and found a few snacks to put into my pack.  None of it sounded good. I also grabbed some hand warmers since the temps were finally starting to drop. I left the aid station but I wasn’t feeling great. It was another 5.9 miles to the final aid station. I was moving, but it was slow. I was so tired. Caffeine tabs weren’t helping. I wanted to lay down & nap.  I continued to stop at fallen trees to sit down. I was a little cold, so I couldn’t stop for long or I’d get chilled.  It took me 2 hours & 18 min from Clear Lake to the Canadian Aid station at mile 49.8 & 2 hours & 31 minutes to go the 5.9 miles from the Canadian Aid Station to the Bockman Aid Station.  I was moving at a snail’s pace! Partway between Canadian & Bockman Aid Stations another runner started to pass me.  He wasn’t moving much faster than I was & we struck up a conversation.  Thank you to fellow runner, Oscar, for allowing me to follow you through the next few miles. This was exactly what I needed to start to get out of my slump.

Eventually the final aid station, Bockman, was within striking distance. I had contemplated quitting here. But I was starting to get my energy back.  I’m not sure how many miles I “zombie walked, “ but I was starting to feel better. I could press on to the finish.

It was 2:30am when I left the aid station with 8 miles to go & 3 hours to do it in. I was rallying & finding my confidence again. The aid station volunteer mentioned that there was 1300’ of climbing in this next section.  I thought he was joking, until I looked at him & realized he was totally serious.  In my head, it was all downhill to the finish.  This idea of 1300’ of climbing came as surprise. I put it out of my mind when I left the aid station & headed toward the finish line 8 miles away with a new fire in my stride.  I didn’t have the energy to run, but I had my power hike back.  I was clicking off the miles (or so I thought… again, my watch only showed time of day & nothing more…) the trail was more like a two track gravel road & I was excited to wrap this up… and then we turned off the road & onto a trail. A trail that started climbing.  Another runner passed me at this point & I could see his light up the trail.  UP. And UP. And UP we went.  This climb was soul crushing.  I had to stop looking at where  the headlamp of the runner ahead of me was because it was so discouraging.

Even though this last climb was defeating, I knew I’d make it before the cutoff as long as I kept moving forward. Eventually the climb ended & we crossed the main highway that marked 2 miles to the finish.

2 hours & 41 minutes after I left the last aid station, I finally made it to the finish & was greeted by my friends & race volunteers. It was 5:07am. 23 hours & 36 minutes after I’d started.  The light was beginning to break behind the mountains in the distance.  What a day it had been. Sweet redemption! A couple of runners from Minnesota proved themselves against the elevation and Colorado mountains.

Finally made it to the finish!!! Thanks Jen, for the photo!!!

We didn’t linger long at the finish. It was a new day & we had flights to catch back in Denver! We headed back to Walden, napped for about an hour before packing up & making the 3 hour drive back to the airport.  What an adventure it had been!

I absolutely love moving through the mountains and challenging myself in ways that keep me humble.  This race was exactly what I was looking for. Hard, beautiful & humbling.

Thanks for all of your support & I can’t wait to support you on your future adventures!

Superior 100 Race Report

It’s probably time to sit down and chat about my last event, the Superior 100.

Let me start by saying, this one felt different.  There was some pre-race chatter, but it circled around the fact that the race could potentially be cancelled due to area wild fires in the week leading up to the event.  I didn’t allow myself to get excited about the event until literally a few days prior. In a typical year, race registration opens in January and one spends the summer excited about running and dedicates hours and miles into training for the race.

Registration for this year’s event didn’t open until permits could be secured from the local governing bodies; about a month out from race day.  I wasn’t even sure I was going to run this year due to having finished Western States 100 in June. I was unsure if my body could handle 2 100 mile events or if my mind even wanted to do 2 100 mile events in a year. Much less in the span of 11 weeks! And to top it off, I started my business, Sunrise Fitness, June 1, so that was just getting off the ground as well.

Needless to say, going into it, my mind and body were already a little tired.

However, I decided to do the event for a few reasons:

A. The sheer challenge of running 2 100 mile races in 11 weeks.

B. I wasn’t ready to be done racing for the season.

C. I love the course, the community & the event overall.

D. And lastly, why not?

I signed up for the race with 2 of my friends, Alisha & Kelly - we have become over many miles “Team Pocket Pickles,” or “TPP” for short. The name stems from a training weekend we did together a couple years ago where Kelly & Alisha literally put dill pickles in the pockets of their packs for the run. Over the course of that weekend we even came up with a little jingle to go with our name.

Shortly after we all signed up for Superior, Kelly was involved in a very serious accident & suffered life threatening injuries. I am happy to report that she is recovering & we were all able to spend a sunny day on her porch one Sunday afternoon recently. However, that left Alisha & I to toe the line on race day with Kelly in our hearts & minds.

Alisha & I decided to try to run as many miles of the course together as we could.  We talked openly about being ok with either of us needing to take off at any point, and at the end of the day making sure we each ran the race we needed to run.  However, having trained together and finished other events together, we knew we could likely knock out much of the course at a similar pace.

Pre-race photo!

#kellystrong Team Pocket Pickles

Come race day, I arrived at the start a little later than usual.  We were camping about 40 min away, and I knew all I needed to do was check in & use the bathroom one more time.  What I forgot was how fun it is to see the community of runners before the race.  I barely had enough time to do the 2 things I needed to do.  Alisha & I were starting near the back of the pack.  

The first 4 miles are on a paved path along Hwy 61, and it’s a good chance to run off some nerves & enjoy the morning sun on Lake Superior. I actually don’t mind this section because it proves to be a nice warm up to get the legs moving before the next 99 miles of technical trail.

This is my 7th start at this race, so I know exactly what I’m in for.  The day is proving to be warm & somewhat humid. As we move on to the single track trail, I let Alisha take the lead.  I don’t mind following today and give her a little space in front of me. From the beginning I am kicking rocks, I just can’t seem to pick up my feet & my legs lack the spring in my step I usually have at the start of races.  I continue to follow Alisha down the trail & do all the things I know I need to do.  Eat.  Drink.  Salt tabs. Stay in control. Other than kick rocks & missing the spring in my step, I feel ok.

We check off the first aid station at Split Rock right on our estimated pace. Next up Beaver Bay another 10 miles down the trail.  The day is warming up & we’re moving along.  Maybe not as quick as we had anticipated, but we’re moving well enough. Eat. Drink.  Salt.  Breathe.  

Beaver Bay Aid Station at 20 miles.

Leaving the aid station with pickles in hand!

Beaver Bay is the first aid station we can see crew at 20 miles.  So far so good.  Next up Silver Bay at 25 miles.  It’s definitely heating up.  I’m still kicking rocks & I keep saying to Alisha that I have “one pace.” There’s no picking it up today.

Silver Bay at mile 25 is the last time we’ll see our crew before County Rd 6 at mile 43.5.  We’re a little behind our anticipated time, but I’m not overly worried about it.  We are still way ahead of cut offs and my goal this year is to simply finish before dark on Saturday night. I’d also really like to get to County Road 6 before dark. That will prove to be more challenging.

After leaving Silver Bay, it’s 9 miles to the Tettegouche aid station and I have my first fall.  Nothing serious, but caught my toe (still kicking rocks!) and banged my knees.  Luckily the ground was pretty soft, and I only had a small cut on my knee.

A quick photo break to soak up the magic of Bean & Bear Lakes on the way to the Tettegouche aid station.

At Tettegouche, our friend, Jen, was there.  She would be pacing us for 19 miles starting at County Road 6.  It was great to have her help here. I ate a quesadilla and refilled my water bladder.  It’s a long 8+ miles to County Road 6.  Alisha & I are still together, but I can tell Alisha has a bit more spring in her step than I do.  She continues to hang with me & we make our way towards the next aid station.  The sun is getting lower in the sky and I can tell it’s going to be close whether or not we make it there before dark.  I have a light in my pack, so I’m not super worried if we don’t, but it brings back memories of the first year when I ran this race.  That first year, I got there after dark, much later than anticipated.  That year was not my year, and I ended up pulling out at mile 85.  I still have skeletons in my closet from that year.  Hitting County Road 6 before dark helps keep those skeletons at bay.

Since the day is winding down & we’re slightly behind our projected time into County Road 6, Alisha picks up the pace to get there a little sooner, as she needs extra time in the aid station this year.  This amazing woman needed to feed & snuggle her baby before we went into the overnight section.  I’m seriously so impressed with my badass friend. She picks up the pace, and I just don’t have it in my legs to keep up.  I’ll get there, but here’s my “one pace” for today. In the deep woods the sun has set and it really is pretty dark.  My eyes don’t love the dark, so I dig out my headlamp.  Shortly after, I drop down off the ridge to the paved road that leads to the aid station just ahead.  It’s light enough out of the forest that I don’t need my headlamp now.  Those first year skeletons can stay in their closet.

The setting sun on Friday evening.

Matt helping me get ready for the overnight section.

After a reset - dry shirt, all my lights, snacks, and refilling my pack, Alisha, Jen our pacer, and I set off into the night.  I won’t see Matt until morning. My friend, Eric, is pacing us from Crosby and will meet us at the 62.9 mile aid station at what will likely be 2am.  It’s 19+ miles until then. There are 2 aid stations in this section, both of which are too small for our crews to meet us at, but will provide a chance to refill packs and have drop bags available (we packed our drop bags ahead of time, and the race takes them to designated aid stations for us.)

It’s an uneventful 7 miles to Finland aid station at mile 51.2, except for the fact that my toes are killing me.  They are hitting the end of my shoes and after all the rock kicking so far, my feet are not happy.  I take some time here to change socks, but I won’t be able to change shoes until we see Eric at Crosby. Changing socks seems to help.  The next two sections are a blur.  It’s dark.  There’s roots.  I’m tired and I still have one gear.  That one gear now is basically a hike. But, we’re moving forward and that’s what counts. 

Overall I feel “fine.” Oh the word “fine” - what does it actually mean? In this case, I don’t feel terrible, but I certainly don’t feel great. But nothing is wrong enough to do anything about.  Now if I could stop kicking these rocks, yeah, that’d be great…. 

Eventually we knock out the Sonju Rd aid station & arrive at Crosby State Park and mile 62.9, where Eric will take over pacing duties until morning. We’re definitely later than we thought we would be, but again, we’re “fine.” We are ahead of cut offs, we’re moving consistently. It is what it is this year.

Another reset here. I change shoes.  I try to get some food in.  Food is sounding less and less appetizing.  But one has to keep eating. My friend, Eric, joins Alisha and I; and into the darkness we go. This next section can suck whatever life you might have right out of you.  It’s a long section at 9+ miles, it is in that darkest time of night when all your body wants to do is sleep and it’s a hard section.  A technical descent to the Manitou River followed by a long climb up to Horseshoe Ridge (which on a clear night, is a great spot to star gaze.) Then a long ominous section to the Caribou River.  After that it’s still a couple more miles to the Sugarloaf Aid Station.

I’ve been leading our train most of the night, and I continue to do so through most of Crosby.  Alisha is struggling a little, and I realize I don’t have nearly as many snacks in my pack as I should.  And what I do have, certainly doesn’t sound good to eat! The pace is conservative, but again we are moving forward and eventually we’ll get to Sugarloaf.

Once we get across the Caribou river, you can tell a new day is beginning.  It’s getting lighter.  We are definitely behind our projected time.  I need a reset, but I have nothing at Sugarloaf.  Not even a drop bag.  Matt & all my stuff will be at mile 77.9, another 5+ miles up the trail. Alisha decides to have her crew meet her at Sugarloaf when we get there.  Once we finally arrive at Sugarloaf, I grab a few snacks, and leave Alisha to do her hard reset.  We agree to meet up at Cramer Road, the next aid station.  

With a new day, Eric and I set off for Cramer Road, and mile 77.9.  I’m feeling more energetic, as is typical once the sun comes up.  That is short lived however.  I still need a reset.  I need to eat and get off my feet for a few minutes.  As we make our way towards Cramer Road my pace continues to slow.  Now the miles are stretching on and the aid station doesn’t seem like it’s getting any closer.

Slowly making my way to Cramer Road aid station. E. Volk photo.

I finally arrive at Cramer Road, and just as I’m walking in to the aid station and taking off my pack, Alisha bounds in behind me!! She looks like a new person! I on the other hand, can only think about sitting down & taking a minute to regroup.

Eric is done pacing here and my next pacer, Michelle, will meet me at the next aid station 7+ miles down the trail. So this next section I will be running solo.  I tell Alisha to go on ahead.  She is looking fresh & ready to go.  I know I don’t have the legs to keep up with her right now.

Alisha heads out, I take my time here & do all the things - right now, I can’t even tell you what they were - eating, refilling my pack, probably changing socks…. It’s all kind of a blur.  My crew and the aid station volunteers here & all along the way are amazing though! I do remember that!!!

I finally head out, and for the first time during this race, I’m alone.  I know this section well.  It’s actually one of my favorite sections and even though there are skeletons in these woods from my first year (this was the section where I quit during my first Superior attempt) I have made peace with them.

The morning sun is illuminating the trees and the forest is simply magical with the maples turning red and a hint of fall in the air.  Soon I’m running along the Cross River and I’m really enjoying myself.  My pace has quickened some and I’m actually running what I can here.  It feels great. Morning on the trail is amazing.

I roll into the Temperance aid station and Alisha is there! I’m feeling good and want to roll through here fairly quickly, but need to address some chafing on my sides and back that has been bugging me since the night time.  I pull up my shirt, and Lisa, a medic & volunteer, sees my chafing on my sides.  It’s bad.  I knew it was, but I couldn’t actually see it. She says she has a solution for me. And THANK GOODNESS she did.  She literally saved my hide.  The tegaderm bandages she used proved to be a perfect solution, as my chafing didn’t bother me the rest of the race, and I could leave it on for my post race shower & prevent the excruciating pain that showers have on raw skin.

Once I’m all bandaged up, I’m ready to hit the trail with my pacer, Michelle, and Alisha.  Alisha is still looking strong and fresh.  I on the other hand, have lead in my legs and my one pace… It only takes a minute before Alisha has pulled ahead.  There’s no way I can hang with her. Michelle and I are continuing towards Carlton Peak, but I literally have no energy.  I find I even have to stop a couple times on the climbs to catch my breath.  Eventually we make it to Sawbill Aid Station, mile 90.7.  The second to last aid station on course.  I’m getting closer.  But it feels hard.  So hard.

In and out of Sawbill, and again it’s all kind of a blur.  I know I wasn’t much for conversation and Michelle was doing a great job keeping me moving. We finally arrive at the last aid station, Oberg, mile 96.2. I’m tired. I want to be done. Only one way to get there - keep moving forward.  I tell Michelle, that I need her to lead.  I just want to zone out and follow her feet.  I also really want to be done before dark

This way to the finish line! M. Volk photo.

The climb up Moose Mountain is way harder than I remember. Again I need to stop a time or two to catch my breath.  This is not like me at all. Usually climbing is my super power.  Keep moving forward.  The miles here are taking forever.  Then it’s the last big climb up Mystery Mountain.  The switchbacks back which I have powered through in the past are proving to take the last of the energy out of me.  Eventually we come to the rock outcropping where you can see and hear the finish line - except that it is still 2 (very long) miles away.

It’s only 2 miles.  I know this.  My watch died up Mystery Mountain, so I have no sense of time.  Time is clearly standing still.  There are more rocks here than ever before. And probably more rocks than anywhere else on the trail!   Michelle continues to tell me I’m doing well, and that we’re getting closer.  I’m not buying it.  Keep moving forward.  

Making my way to Lutsen! M. Volk photo.

Finally, I hear the Poplar River and cross the bridge for the final stretch to Lutsen resort. I’m passed by other racers running it in.  I have no run left.  I don’t even have a strong hike left.  I have a walk.  And it’s not fast.  But. I will get there.  And it’s not dark yet.  

The final push to the finish line at Lutsen Resort. M. Volk photo.

We hit the pavement and I’m crying.  I tell Michele that I probably “just need a snack” and “this isn’t logical” but I feel like I failed. How is it possible that one can run 100 miles be finishing well before the cut off, well before dark, and still feel like a “failure?”

That’s what I have been trying to unpack the last two weeks. Logically, I achieved all of my goals.  This year has been incredible.  Two major 100 mile races.  Starting a business. It’s been a lot of awesomeness! But one of the reasons I come back to these events is because they strip you down to your soul.  They make you look inside yourself and find out what really makes you tick.

All the emotions!! Finish line tears captured by S. Severson.

As for Alisha, she finished a strong race about 30 min ahead of me. She was able to catch up to her Mom who was running the marathon distance and they were able to finish together.  I am so grateful to be surrounded by amazingly strong friends.

Alisha, Michelle, Eric, Matt and Jen, you are the best.  At the end of the day, the friendship and support of this group is second to none.  I couldn’t have done it without you.

DONE!!!!

The BEST CREW & PACERS I could ask for! Team Volk & Team Leis!!

And thank you to John & Cheri, the race directors, and all the volunteers, because without you, none of this would be possible.  Thank you for creating an event that allows us to look inside of ourselves and become better humans as a result. 

Western States 100 Race Report

It was one wild ride. Grab a beverage & have a seat, we’re going on a journey. A journey of 100 miles one step at a time. 

A little background before diving in - Western States is considered the oldest and most prestigious 100 mile trail race in the country. Because of the high demand of entry & limited number of racers allowed, a lottery system is used to choose runners for the event. The requirement for the lottery is a qualifying 100 mile race finish. For every year you qualify you get another ticket & they multiply exponentially over the years. So in theory the more years you put in the more likely you are to get drawn. 

My name was drawn for the 2020 event, I had 6 years in the lottery. I was stoked to finally get to run this event of a lifetime. Then 2020 happened & everything was postponed a year. 

So here we are June 2021, and I’m finally sharing the story of my Western States adventure. It’s been a long road to get here, so let’s get started….

PRE-RACE

Thursday afternoon I picked up my crew & off to the airport we went. 

Chris, Alisha & Kelly were my crew & we were meeting my friend, Alli, there on race morning. These 4 amazing women made up “Team Pocket Pickles.” (You’ll have to ask me for that story in person sometime!)

Our direct flight to Sacramento didn’t leave until 6:45pm, it was going to be a long evening, given the flight time, 2 hr time difference & 2 hour drive to Tahoe City once we got there. The idea of “no sleep ‘til Auburn” was already becoming real! 

We got our rental car & made our way to Tahoe City and the Airbnb. It was midnight local time when we arrived. 

Friday morning I needed to be at the race start by 9am because I was taking part in a medical research study on bone density. They were doing blood draws, genetic testing & dexa scans on volunteer runners. I was excited to be a part of it! All in the name of science!!

That morning we all hopped into the SUV & made our way to Olympic Valley (aka Squaw Valley ski resort home of the 1960 Olympics.) The girls took off for a run & I went looking for the research study location. 

I got my tests finished, picked up all my race swag & found a spot to hang out while my friends finished their run. It was so neat to seel the elites and other athletes milling around. I met a couple of the other runners from Minnesota as well. 

When my friends finished their run, we grabbed some lunch & hung out for the pre-race meeting. Once the pre-race meeting was over we made our way back to the Airbnb for final race preparations & an early dinner. 

Pre-race photo.

18 hours + until go time! The race starts here at the bottom of the ski area & starts by going UP the mountain!

RACE DAY

Saturday morning started with a 3am alarm. I slept remarkably well & woke up calm & ready to tackle this adventure. My pre-race routine involves coffee, a light breakfast, plenty of trips to the bathroom & making sure I have lubed all the high friction areas…. Chafing over 100 miles is a real issue, so I use special products to save my skin & KT tape on my back where my pack hits my bra to prevent it. 

Soon Team Pocket Pickles is piling into the SUV to head to Olympic Valley. The song “Whatever it takes” by Imagine Dragons pumping thru the speakers. 

Once at the race start I pick up my bib & connect with Alli, who will be helping crew with the rest of Team Pocket Pickles. It’s not long now!!

Hugs & a few pre-race photos are in order & soon enough I’m lined up with 315 of my new friends for the journey to Auburn. 

Race morning! 50* at the start line felt refreshing! It was going to get hot though!

Crew selfies are the best!!! Thank goodness for these amazing women!!!

At the crack of 5am the starting gun goes off & we make our way up the Escarpment - 2500 feet of climbing in 4.5 miles from the base Olympic Valley to the highest point on the course. This is what I have spent the last 2 years training for. Those long incline workouts on the treadmill before work, hill repeats at Hyland Hills, squats in the gym, it’s time to put it all to the test. 

In these first few miles, I try to stay relaxed. I chatted some with fellow runners & soaked in the moon setting over the mountains & the sun rising behind us. It was a gorgeous morning & I wanted to enjoy it fully. 

I had my phone on airplane mode in my pack & snapped a few photos along the way in those early miles. The last push to the very top was thrilling. All the people who had hiked up there in the dark & pre-dawn hours coupled with the sunrise over Lake Tahoe & the excitement of the day ahead was truly magical. 

Looking back at Olympic Valley & Lake Tahoe in the distance.

Almost to the top of the escarpment! So much energy up here!!! It was amazing!

So happy to be here! Almost to the top!

I crested the mountain & descended into what’s considered the high country section of the course. From here to mile 30 would all be new to me. 

I had participated in the Training Camp over Memorial Day weekend a month prior & had the chance to run the final 70 miles of the course over 3 days, but these first 30 miles I hadn’t seen yet. 

The high country is my favorite section of this course. Slightly technical trails & amazing views of the surrounding mountains filled my soul. I found myself staying at a comfortable pace & running with a heart full of joy. I kept thinking “this is going to be a great day!”

At 24 miles you descend into Duncan Canyon & this is the first chance to see my crew. Chris, Alisha & Kelly had taken the harrowing mountain roads to meet me here & then would meet me again at mile 38, Dusty Corners. It was a thrill rolling into that aid station & I announced to them “TODAY IS GOING TO BE A GREAT DAY!!” 

I flew thru here, refilling my pack, making some minor clothing adjustments & getting hosed down by volunteers. It was heating up already. 

Riding high at mile 24!

Taking full advantage of the cold water spray!

It was 6 miles to Robinson Flat. I would meet Alli there. I knew there was a big climb to get there but that was all I knew about this section. A bit more downhill out of Duncan Canyon & then we started climbing. And climbing we did. This is where the heat started to get real & I could tell people were hurting. I was heating up as well, but still feeling ok. 

The climb to Robinson Flat took me down a peg, but seeing Alli & getting into the aid station put the spring back in my step. From here on out I knew what the course held (kind of…) and I was still excited for the day ahead. 

Again, I rolled thru this aid station pretty quickly. Some sunscreen, hosing off my arm sleeves, filling my bandana with ice & I was off. The next 8 miles would be a lot of downhill with one aid station about half way before meeting Kelly, Chris & Alisha at Dusty Corners. 

Moving through Robinson Flat with Alli’s help.

I arrived at Dusty Corners needing to change shoes as I was having a significant amount of pain across the top of my right foot & needing a mini reset before the next section.

Alisha asked me what I wanted to eat here, I didn’t have a good answer and nothing sounded good…. First red flag. I got some food in, shoes changed, more sunscreen, more ice & off I went. The next time I would see crew would be Michigan Bluff at mile 55. This next section was going to kick my ass. 

The 5 miles to Last Chance aid station went ok, and when I got there I used the bathroom, had a few bites of food, more ice, water & sports drink. From here it was 2 miles downhill & 3 miles up to Devils Thumb. Devils Thumb might be the hardest climb on the course. 

The 2 miles downhill weren’t easy, as that constant descending made my feet hurt & I got to worrying about rattlesnakes. I much prefer climbing, so I knew that I would be happier once I got to the big climb. Except for the fact that my ice had all melted and the heat was real by then. I was climbing, but not at all like I knew I could. I met up with other runners on the climb up Devils Thumb & we all were fighting the good fight. Things were getting real. 

Slowly we made it to the top & the aid station. I knew I needed a little time here. Except right away I got stung by a bee on my arm. Dang. There were so many bees! I had a popsicle, and sat for a moment. Volunteers refilled my ice bandana, water bladder & electrolyte drink. I had a couple bites of pb&j. But the bees were swarming & I didn’t want to get stung again. I headed out….

Another big decent & a big climb were ahead before seeing Team Pocket Pickles at Michigan Bluff. 

Out of Devils Thumb I descended into El Dorado Canyon. It was early evening by now. The sun was shining directly on the canyon wall & shade was sparse. If there was a breeze it was not getting into the canyon. It felt like an oven. I was baking in the full sun. My thighs & calves were fully broken out in heat rash, my ice was gone & I had an unquenchable thirst. I had been drinking well, taking salt tabs & using my electrolyte drink throughout the day, but I was thirsty. It was all I could think about. I was not moving well & getting passed by folks moving more nimbly down the canyon. And I was still worried about rattlesnakes. This was where I had nearly stepped on one during training camp. Things were going south fast in my world. I felt myself starting to cry. I would talk myself out of it. But as soon as someone passed me I would tear up again. I had been running alone for most of the day & it felt like there was a long time before I’d get a pacer. 

Eventually I arrived at El Dorado aid station at the bottom of the canyon. It was after 7:15pm. I asked to talk to medical because I was so incredibly thirsty, even though I had consumed nearly 2 liters of water and almost all of my electrolyte drink in the prior 5 miles. I sat in the bed of a truck while a medical volunteer took my heart rate & blood pressure. All were fine. I drank some broth & sat for a long time. The aid station captain said he recorded temps of 106 there today. It had to have been close to that even that late in the day. 

I knew cut offs were going to be an issue, and at the least, I needed to get to Michigan Bluff. I knew my crew was worried. I wasn’t confident if I’d get any further than that, but I had to get that far. I left El Dorado feeling slightly better than I had when I got there. 

2.8 miles uphill to Michigan Bluff, I anticipated it taking me an hour. It was close to 7:45 when I left El Dorado. 

If you arrive at Michigan Bluff after 8pm, you can have a pacer here. Otherwise it is mile 62 before you can get a pacer. My Plan A was picking up my first pacer at mile 62. I knew if I came into Michigan Bluff after 8, I was in trouble. My crew & I had talked thru all the scenarios so we had a plan B, just in case. 

I hiked up to Michigan Bluff feeling very sorry for myself, I knew that I’d have a pacer from here on out if I was going to finish. I honestly was not sure if I could go on. 

I was scared. I was so thirsty again & I couldn’t walk in a straight line. Things were not right. 

I made it to Michigan Bluff & Alisha gave me a giant hug as I started to cry. 

This is where having an experienced crew is invaluable. These ladies used their super powers to put the wheels back on this bus. 

I sat in a chair, got a dry shirt, lights & my pack refilled. Alisha talked me off the ledge. Kelly poured me a cup of pickle juice, someone brought me chips & broth. The pit crew working their magic. Cut offs were looming & I needed to get to Foresthill, mile 62. We could reassess there. 

The crew worked their magic at Michigan Bluff, mile 55.

Chris was ready to roll & off into the darkness we went. I still wasn’t confident I could finish, but I needed to get to Foresthill. In these next miles, a switch flipped & I started to feel better. And let’s be clear better still isn’t great, but my confidence was returning & I was not nearly as thirsty. 

We made it to Foresthill & the crew was back in action helping me get back out there.

Moving through the Foresthill Aid Station, mile 62.

Kelly was on deck to join me for the next 16 miles to the river crossing. I was about 30 min ahead of the cut offs. I tried to run as much as I could with the descents and the darkness. We stayed on pace thru this section and each aid station we were out of before the 30 min cut off horn. 

Arriving at Rucky Chucky aid station, another flurry of pack refilling, clothing adjustments & pacer change. Alisha was up next for another 16 miles including the river crossing. 

Right at Rucky Chucky, you cross the American River. This was probably the second most awesome thing (after climbing the Escarpment at sunrise). The volunteers had a rope strung across the river to hold on to & pointed out the best rocks to step on. The water was cold & about hip deep in places, but it felt amazing. 

Arriving at Rucky Chucky Aid Station, Mile 78.

Crossing the American River. Those volunteers were fantastic!

From the river it is 2 miles uphill to Green Gate. Alisha kept me moving thru the Green Gate aid station (brief stop here for dry socks.) But there was no time to waste. 

I was 20-30 min ahead of aid station cut offs, but there was no time to spare. I knew there was still some climbing to contend with. And while there wasn’t sun, it sure didn’t cool down much overnight. I was moving as efficiently as I thought I could. 

The sun came up and we kept clicking off the miles. I was a mess though. Mentally I was getting to the end of my rope. Tears, over thinking, the weight of my own expectations weighing on my mind. I knew I had to finish. But it was not guaranteed. I had to keep staying ahead of the cut offs. I could not take my foot of the gas. But yet I still had a long way to go. 

After a very hot climb up to Pointed Rocks aid station, Chris was ready to run me to the finish. I had less than 6 miles. The 20 min horn blew. My cut off window was closing quickly. 

Leaving the Pointed Rocks aid station. 5.7 miles to the finish.

The sun was up and it temps were rising. My legs were fully inflamed with heat rash & the sun on them made them feel like they were literally on fire. We ran down to No Hands Bridge, I had 3 miles to go. I knew the climb up Robie Point was long & exposed. Once I got to Robie Point, my crew could all join me for the 1+ mile thru town to the finish line at the Placer High School track. But I had to get to Robie Point before the cut off. Chris was pulling me along & encouraging me to move faster. I was pushing harder than I ever have. 

I spotted a race sweeper - he told me I had 10 min to get to the top…. I checked my watch. It didn’t make sense, how could I be so close to the cut off now??!!! I had been pushing. I never took my foot off the gas, but here I was on the verge of missing a cut off 1 mile from the finish line. 

Chris pushed me harder. I swore at her & dug deeper. Every switchback I was hoping for the top. Where was it??? One more turn and I could see it. Volunteers were yelling 2 MINUTES!!!!!! Could I get there in 2 min?? I had to. I dug down again, Chris kept pushing. She had to. Tough love. We were all in this together. This truly isn’t a solo effort. 

I was running. Uphill at mile 98.5, in 90+ degrees after 29 hours of constant motion, tasting metal in my mouth, barely getting enough air. 

I made the right turn onto the pavement. I beat the cut off!! Alli along with all the volunteers & spectators were screaming encouragement. I was going to finish. I was going to make it to the track & get my bronze buckle. 

This last 1.2 miles was my moment. I ran some, I walked some. I saw the elites cheering us in. Alli FaceTimed Matt, so even he was able to join me. All of TPP were by my side. There were tears. Lots of tears. 

And there was the gate to the track. Friends on the infield cheering & running next to me! The energy! The joy! I can’t even begin to explain it. 

It was a moment I won’t soon forget. 

This sport is special. From the outside it looks like an individual effort, but it is most certainly not. This community is so unbelievable. Thank you the race director, all the volunteers, my crew & my so incredibly supportive husband, for allowing me this experience. I am very lucky - I get to “pick my hard,” and do these things that force me to grow & find new levels, while there are many folks out there who are fighting battles we may never know, I hope to inspire them to keep moving forward, even when things get hard.

Exciting Times!

Wow! What a whirlwind few weeks it has been!

I thought it would be fun to catch you up on all the things that are happening around here!

Let’s start with Sunrise Fitness!

Welcome to my new space & my new business!

An opportunity to move into this amazing space was presented to me a few weeks ago. It was one of those things that I didn’t know I needed until that moment. Within 4 days I made the decision to start training in my own space and had signed a lease on this beautiful location.

I have been training my individual personal training clients out of the Tiger Activity Center & while that has been great, this is even better! I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to grow my business in this way. Sometimes things line up in such a way you simply know it’s the right next step. This was one of those times.

I’m thrilled to open the space up to more folks starting in July with some group fitness classes and a seniors fitness class. Stay tuned for more details!!

Next, let me tell you about Western States!!!

The Western States Endurance Run is coming up in 12 short days!! Western States is the “Super Bowl” of ultra running or the “Boston Marathon” of ultras. It is an incredibly competitive 100 mile race that starts in Olympic Valley, CA (near Lake Tahoe) and finishes 100.2 miles later in Auburn, CA. It is the oldest 100 mile race in the country & follows the Western States trail which was originally used for the Tevis Cup, an endurance horse race, that still happens today.

To get into Western States, you have to finish a qualifying 100 mile race & then apply to the lottery. I had been applying to the lottery for the last 5 years when my name was drawn for the 2020 event.

And then 2020 happened…. Western States was postponed another year. So…. here we are 12 days away from a race that I have literally been training for for 2 full years.

And while I am finishing up peak training for this event, figuring out pacing schedules, packing lists and all the other pre race details for this huge event, I am starting a new business!

Life is so awesome!!

Thank you for coming along with me on this wild journey! I can’t wait to share more details about the race & the business in the coming weeks.

If you are interested in reading about my previous 100 mile race finishes, keep scrolling down! There’s lots of reading material deeper on this page.

I’ll post race links & ways to track my progress on race day as we get closer!

Mines of Spain 100 Race Report

It seems strange to be writing a race report while we are still in the depths of a world wide pandemic. After my 2 big races of 2020 were cancelled - Western States 100 (postponed until June 2021) and Superior 100 (cancelled outright, will try again next year) I signed up for the Mines of Spain 100 miler in Dubuque, Iowa.

I didn’t talk much about this race leading up to it. There wasn’t a lot of buzz on social media about it, and it felt a little surreal to be preparing for a race when so many other events had been cancelled, postponed or become virtual. Up until race week, I was still partially preparing myself for it to not happen.

But it did happen. And it was wonderful. And there are plenty of lessons that we can take away from this event on how to do these events safely in the future. Honestly, some of the things the race did to keep everyone safe we probably should have been doing all along…. hello, hand washing stations outside of all the portable toilets…. seriously, I have never washed my hands so many times during a race as I did this one. No touch aid stations. Masks required at anytime you were near others.

Pre race photo compliments of Mile 90 Photography.

The race started Friday morning, Oct 16, at 8am. I was in wave 2, so we started at 8:05. There were 3 waves and 2 separate races - 100 mile and 100k. The course was a 20.2 mile loop, so 5 loops for the 100 mile & 3 loops for the 100k.

The course Start/Finish is at Murphy Park on top of a bluff, and from there you head down a paved bike path 3/4 of a mile downhill to a paved road that you follow for another 3/4 of a mile to the trail. The course is a combination of out and back sections and some loops, so a lot of the course you do 10 times for the 100 mile. The biggest issue I had with this section was you ran past the water treatment plant & the smell was so SO bad!!! You wanted to run to get past it quickly but you didn’t want to breathe too deeply, cause it was that bad 🤢!

Once you hit the trail it’s a few steep switchbacks to the top of the bluff and you are greeted with a view of the river and a short section around the Julien Dubuque monument.

Running around the monument on loop 1. Mile 90 Photography

Morning river views.

From there you head across a parking lot and down the bluff, cross a creek and off into the depths of the loop. I won’t bore you with the minute details of the loop, but there are some really lovely runnable grassy sections, and some areas of wooded, leaf covered, singletrack. I loved the variety of the course and the aid stations were anywhere from 2-6 miles apart.

I don’t typically like loop courses as it is easy to play mind games and want to stop when things get tough as you pass through the S/F (start/finish) aid station. I never had that thought of quitting in this race. It certainly wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, but at no point was I not going to see this through.

Loop one I explored the loop and tried to keep the effort level easy, to be patient and enjoy being out there. I found myself incredibly grateful for being able to do an event like this and have that shared experience with the other runners. Everyone was very friendly, and you’d pass other runners in the out and back sections and it was always fun to here the “good jobs,” “way to go,” and various cheers back and forth with other participants.

Cruising along on loop 1. Mile 90 Photography

Working on keeping my feet dry on one of the many creek crossings. Mile 90 Photography

Running along the bluffs was gorgeous.

I finished loop 1 feeling strong and happy. I cruised into the S/F aid station and did what I like to call “turn and burn.” Get in. Get out. Time is so easily wasted in the aid stations, that if I don’t need much, I don’t dink around. I grabbed a bite to eat, saw Matt, and got right back out. The nice part of this race is that there is cell service for the whole thing, so when I got back to that 3/4 paved bike path uphill to the S/F I could send Matt a text and let him know what I needed. That way it was ready and I could be more efficient in the aid stations. I was able to eat on the way back down the paved path as I started loop 2.

Loop 2 was off to a great start, the weather was pretty perfect, cool and dry, the sun was peaking out and I was happy and grateful. About 5 miles into loop 2, I was probably day dreaming, and caught my toe on some leaf covered debris and fell hard. And as dry as it was, that ground felt like cement when I hit it. I checked my self, and luckily I didn’t tear my tights or shirt, but my knees felt bruised and I definitely bruised my ego. “Dang it, stay more present,” I told myself. I walked a bit while I dusted myself off. That fall took the wind out of my sails. For the rest of loop 2 I just felt off. Tired. Lethargic. I looked at my watch, it was just after 2pm. Too early for the caffeine pills I’ll take to help me stay awake overnight. If I start the caffeine now, I won’t have a prayer come later. Just ride it out, I told myself, you’ll rally.

It took most of the rest of loop 2 to rally, but I finally felt my energy levels come back. By the time I hit the S/F aid station again, I was feeling pretty good.

Finishing Loop 2. M. Leis Photo

The days are short in October, so I knew when I finished loop 2 that it would be getting dark part way through loop 3. I took a few minutes at the S/F aid station to change shirts, pack my lights and get ready for the sun to go down.

I had one more loop to go before I picked up my pacer, Chris, who would run loop 4 with me. I headed out on loop 3 feeling a little tired (I did have 40 miles and 9+ hours of running on my legs by then) but good. I knew I would put some music on this loop and start some caffeine a little later. I’d just need to finish this loop and then I’d have company for the rest of the race. Up at the monument, 2 miles in, I saw my coach, Jake, and that was a huge pick me up. I was feeling good, moving well, excited to be this deep in the race, and seeing a familiar face topped it all off. Into loop 3 I went, the sun started to set and the trail got more shadowy. I was hesitant to pull out my lights, but I was starting to have a hard time seeing the details of the trail when I caught my other toe and down I went. Just as hard as the first time. I caught myself primarily with my left hand and my wrist was pretty sore, and my knees and elbows were feeling bruised. I didn’t rip my pants or shirt, so I dusted myself off, and headed on down the trail. I did put my light on then! After two hard falls, I was feeling pretty beat up. I was worried about falling again, and as a result, my pace started to slow. It was dark, and things were starting to ache. My left hand swelled up and by the end of the race, I could no longer see my knuckles. Loop 3 was turning into a grind. But that’s why I was here. Time to dig deep and keep moving.

Coming in after loop 3. Mile 90 photography

Time to take care of the feet. A sock change before heading out on loop 4 with Chris. Mile 90 Photography.

Chris and I head out on loop 4. It’s after 11pm, and I’ve been moving for 15 hours. I’m not much for conversation, but Chris keeps me entertained and moving. It’s dark, I’m concerned about falling again and the sections with the stairs are really starting to get to me. Dig deep. Keep moving.

These stairs, while fine in the daylight, were not fun in the dark…. Mile 90 photography.

Chris and I finished loop 4, and I would be picking up my other pacer, Michelle, for loop 5 - aka the Victory Lap. At the end of loop 4, I was feeling pretty gross - beat up, and that sense of almost being jet lagged for having been up so long. I just needed to get through 1 more loop and I could rest.

Finishing loop 4. Mile 90 photography.

Michelle and I head out on loop 5. I felt gross, but I knew I would feel better once it started to get light. I think by this time is was about 5am. We walked the first few miles of loop 5, as I just couldn’t quite get my legs moving enough to run. Once the sun started to come up, as predicted I started to feel better. There is something so cool about watching the day get light after spending the night in the woods. It is so magical and one of my favorite things about these events.

I wasn’t moving fast, but I was moving better and I checked off each of the sections of the loop as we finished them. There was something comforting in the loop format of this event - I started to really learn the course, the trail and the ebb and flow of it all. I found myself doing the same things each loop - pass up aid station 1 as it was only 4 miles from the S/F, eat something out of my pack between aid 1 and 2. Eat something savory at aid station 2. Use my drop bag at aid station 3 if I needed anything specific here and use the portable toilet. Aid station 4 I would add a bit of water to my pack and eat something savory. By the time I returned to the S/F I would fill my water completely and eat a bit more. I found myself eating a LOT of mini snickers bars between aid stations to keep my energy up. Other things I ate were peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, chocolate covered pretzels, Scratch Labs chews, and an occasional Honey Stinger waffle.

A new day on the trail. M. Volk photo.

Michelle and I wrapped up loop 5 together and soon enough were hiking up the paved bike path back to the S/F. This would be the last time I would make this hike up the hill. I was ready to be done. But the interesting thing is, I didn’t feel any worse this time than I did at the end of loop 4. In fact, given that it was light out, I almost felt a tiny bit better. And knowing that I was done, certainly put a bit more spring in my step. I could rest, nap and get off my feet.

Coming into the finish! Mile 90 Photography.

Mines of Spain 100 mile finisher! Mile 90 photography.

Mines of Spain 100 is my 7th 100 mile finish. This was a great event. Wonderful volunteers, quality aid stations, lots of swag, and a course that certainly keeps you humble. While I don’t need to come back and do it again (after 5 loops, I think I’m good 😉) I do highly recommend this event. And I’d be game to come back and pace and crew my friends here!

These events maybe “solo” but they really aren’t. They take a small village to put on and having a few folks on your team make it even more enjoyable. I would not have wanted to do this without the support of Matt, my number 1 fan and Crew Cheif; Chris, my Trail Sister, who is always keeps me moving, and keeps me humble; and Michelle, my dear friend who I have shared so many miles with due to the pandemic. And I can’t forget a shout out to Eric, who drove 5 hours just to hang out with a bunch of crazy runners! I love you guys. Thank you so much!!

Matt, Chris & Michelle. Y’all rock!!! Mile 90 Photography.

The icing on the cake with my finish was that I was awarded the top female masters award. A masters runner is someone over the age of 40 (growing older does have it’s benefits…) At 27:15 finish time, I was 9th woman overall and fastest in the over 40 crowd, this was a fun event and winning my age group was the cherry on top!

Thanks again to the race director, all the volunteers and everyone who toed the line that day. This is a 2020 highlight for sure. Thanks for reading this far & until next time…

Happy Trails!

This Moment In Time

I think we all can agree that the current state of the world is not what we had thought it would be. Sitting in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic that has closed schools, businesses, and daily life as many of us know it.

I for one, have had to stop working all of my jobs since they are all based on interfacing with people. All the gyms are closed and we are left to workout in our homes or getting out for exercise in nature (which is always a good thing, in my opinion.) Restaurants are closed completely or on a skeleton staff allowing for carry out only. I have very much enjoyed working as a server at two local restaurants. It’s fun, fast paced, and I get to talk to so many people.

Generally all events are cancelled or postponed, you must maintain six feet away from people you don’t live with and you aren’t allowed to be in groups any larger than 10 people total.

That leads me to the state of trail running and racing. The snow has melted and we as runners were anxiously awaiting the start of the spring racing season. But one by one the spring races have been cancelled. I had two big races on my schedule this year. Western States 100 in June and Superior 100 in September.

Since getting word in December that I had gotten lucky in the Western States lottery I had been putting in the work. The work in training - lifting weights, hill repeats, long runs. No excuses. This was a race of a lifetime, and I was going to be prepared. I put in the work at my jobs, picking up shifts, putting money away for the time away from work this summer. I’d get up on Saturday morning run for 3+ hours, go home and eat, soak in the tub, and head to the restaurant and put in another 6-8 hours on my feet. My watch was logging 25+ mile days most Saturdays. Week after week.

Two weeks ago it all came to a screeching halt. I worked my last Saturday shift, and by that Monday the restaurants were closing for two weeks. That was just the start. Fast forward those two weeks and we are now on a strict Stay at Home protocol. The restaurant and gym are closed until May 1 at the earliest.

I still had my training though. They hadn’t cancelled Western States. It was the one piece of normalcy that I could hold on to. It was what was motivating me when it seemed that everything else was falling apart.

Until yesterday. The email arrived. Western States is cancelled. We have an entry into the 2021 event however.

Now I’m the first one to say that I sign up for these long events because I love the training. I really do. I love getting out into the woods, running, moving, exploring. I love the community of people who also do these events. I so grateful for everything the sport has given me.

But golly, I am disappointed. Another year out seems like an eternity. I was so excited to be able to participate in Western States after 5 years of putting into the lottery. And on the opposite side of that emotion is disappointment. Disappointment that I am unable to make that trip to Squaw this year.

It’s kind of like this - the training is a cake & the race is the frosting on the cake. And while I REALLY like frosting, I don’t really want to eat it without the cake. And while I really like cake, I much prefer it with a healthy layer of frosting. So dang it, I want my cake & frosting, too!

And yes, there are much bigger problems in the world. SO many bigger problems. But I’m going to take a minute to be sad, because I was so excited and I had been working so hard. And after I’m done being sad, I’ll lace up my shoes, go play in the mud, clear my head & focus on the future. Because as my Grandma Bunday taught me, “This too shall pass.” And it will. And we’ll figure it out. One day at a time. And we’ll come together as a community stronger than before.

So if you made it this far, thank you. Thank you for listening. And if you are sad, it’s ok. We’ll process it, and figure it out. Because sometimes change IS hard.

2019 Superior 100

I’ve been reflecting on my 2019 Superior 100 race for the last few days.  This was my fifth finish, 6th start & 6th 100 mile race overall.  I ran this race for the first time in 2013, and made it 85 miles before lack of nutrition, heat & humidity caused me to drop.  2014 I returned and bagged my first finish in just over 36 hours.  I was elated to have pushed past that 85 mile barrier, climbed Carlton peak and finished with a smile on my face surrounded by dear friends.  2015 I went back and set a huge PR by running just over 32 hours.  That was amazing.  I actually out ran my crew that year by hitting an early morning aid station ahead of schedule.  I was on cloud 9 that entire race.  I think I even finished in the top 10 women.  It was amazing.  2016 I ran a different 100 mile race that same weekend - the Hallucination 100 in Michigan and while it was hard in its own way, the whole event paled in comparison to Superior.  So in 2017 I returned to Superior, struggled the last 25 miles, hiked it in & finished a few minutes slower than my 2015 time.  2018 had it’s own struggles, mostly leading up to the race.  Some personal things and a rolled ankle a few weeks before the race left me unsure I’d be able to get it done.  I started the 2018 race on an easy pace, and ran a super strong final 25 miles to finish with a 40 min PR and hitting my time goal in the process.  

Fast forward to 2019, after running such a strong race in 2018 I set an ambitious time goal.  I wanted to cut another hour off my time this year.  I figured I could do it if I executed the race similar to last year, but managed to stay just a little stronger over night.  I also thought it was possible if the trail stayed as dry as it was last year, because in 2018 we had PERFECT conditions.  

My training was good.  I tried to follow the plan Coach Jake wrote for me to the best of my ability.  I got in lots of hills, speed work as prescribed, and LOTS of time on my feet coaching this summer.  I was ready.  I was tapered, excited, well fueled and eager to get started.

Race week arrives, and on Wednesday evening Matt, Sandy (my Mother in Law) and I hop in the truck with camper in tow & head to Lambs Resort where we’d be camping for the weekend.  Matt & Sandy would be my crew.  Matt’s been crewing me since the beginning, and Sandy’s been with me for all 4 of my previous Superior finishes.  They’ve got the system down, and know me better than anyone.

Sandy & Matt. The finest crew I could ask for.

The race starts on Friday, and we head to Gooseberry State Park for the 8am start.  Getting there about 30 min ahead of time gives me time to get checked in, use the bathroom & take a few pictures with friends before we head down the trail.  At go-time, all the runners start on a paved section of trail.  It’s 4 miles of pavement before we make the turn, go under Hwy 61, and start the climb up toward the Split Rock River on the main Superior Hiking Trail.  We’ll be on single track for another 97 or so miles before hitting the finish line at Lutsen Mountain.

Pre-race with Sandy, Matt & Awesome pacer, Chris.

Kelly & I ready to go!

My friend, Kelly, is running her first 100 mile race and we stay together initially.  She falls in line behind me as I set the pace on the single track.  I’m trying to stay conservative, comfortable & patient in these early miles.  At 7 miles in I feel a pain on the left side of my abdomen.  OUCH! I look and there’s a bee on my shirt.  I flick my shirt & off he flies, but not before stinging me twice.  Shoot, that hurt like mad!! Kelly is stung too, and we stop to assess the damage.  She’s stung in the ankle, and it looks like the stinger is still there, I help her by pulling the stinger out.  We decide that we’re fine, but sore, & bummed that we’ve been stung.  It isn’t long before we see a commotion just up the trail in front of us.  Another runner has been stung & is unable to walk, 4 other runners are carrying him down the trail.  They’re asking if anyone has medical training.  My EMT training is almost 10 years old, but I stop to find out what’s happening.  Runners have gone ahead to alert the aid station that there is a runner in dire straights, but no one has had service to dial 911.  Cell phone service can be really hit or miss on the trail.  I pull my phone out of my pack, take it off airplane mode & I immediately have service.  I dial 911.  

To make a long story short, I spend about 20 min or so with the group of runners helping the man who was stung while on the phone with 911.  I have Kelly go on ahead since I didn’t know how long I’d be.  Once a race volunteer got to us, I gave her my phone which was still connected to the 911 operator for her to take over the call.  I headed on my way.  The good news is the runner who was stung, and nearly unconscious, was able to walk out under his own power after a second dose of an epi pen. 

After leaving the group, I arrived at the first aid station, checked in, grabbed a peanut butter & jelly sandwich and headed back out.  I needed to keep moving.  I saw Kelly leaving the aid station spur trail as I was arriving & told her I’d catch up to her later. 

I headed out of the first aid station with 9+ miles under my belt; the next aid station being 10 miles away.  I’d see Matt & Sandy there for the first time since the start.  I was moving well, really well actually.  I felt good.  I was knocking off the miles, I was passing people & I even caught up to Kelly in this section! I was flying! 

That was either a blessing or a curse....

I arrived at the Beaver Bay aid station, filled bottles, grabbed another peanut butter & Jelly sandwich & checked my pace chart with Matt & Sandy.  I was back on my ambitious time goal schedule..... While that’s great, I probably should have still been 15-20 min BEHIND that goal time at this point in the race, since I’d stopped to help that other runner...

I was feeling the miles already.  I was kicking rocks, and my legs had started to ache.  I was 20 miles in.

I tried to slow down and eat a bit more in the 5+ miles to the next aid station.  I arrived at Silver Bay on schedule, but definitely feeling run down.  I was behind enough on calories that at first glance I didn’t recognize my friend, Alisha..... I needed to do some damage control.  

Kelly and I had gotten separated at Beaver Bay, but caught back up to each other again here, so we left & had 9 more miles together before the Tettegouche aid station at 35 miles.

Kelly and I leaving Silver Bay aid station. PC Volk Family.

On the way to Tettegouche aid station, 9 + miles away, I tried to settling into a comfortable pace, and focus on getting in more calories. This is a beautiful section with Bean & Bear Lakes, Mount Trudee and the infamous drain pipe section before dropping into the chaotic, noisy aid station at 35 miles. I felt much better when I arrived here than I had when I left Silver Bay. My friend, Alisha, was there crewing Kelly, and she helped me get some anti-chafing cream on areas that were getting irritated and made sure I was eating well. Matt & Sandy were not meeting me here because this aid station is so congested, and I knew I’d be fine until I saw them at the County Road 6 aid station which was coming up at mile 43.5. I’d also be picking up my pacer, Chris at County Road 6, so that would be a longer stop to reset before night fall.

Kelly and I were still running together and having company made these miles flow by. On our way to the next aid station, the rain moved in, and for a short time it rained quite hard. It rained long and hard enough to soak us to the bone, soak our feet and make the rocks and trail slippery. My feet were feeling ok until they got soaked, and by the time I arrived at County Road 6, I could feel some blisters starting. Luckily that short rain storm was the only rain we had for the rest of the race.

Coming into County Road 6 aid station as the sun sets on the first day.

At County Road 6 I take time to put on a dry shirt, dry socks, extra anti-chafing cream, add a long sleeve shirt to my pack, grab my lights and as much food as I can get in. Chris and I head into the woods on our way to the Finland Aid Station another 7.7 miles away. Chris will be running with me from now until mile 77.9. She will take me through the night and into sunrise on Saturday. She is a REALLY good friend!!

The night sections have a tendency to run together. We arrived at Finland, and met up with Matt & Sandy for the last time. They will be going back to camp to sleep and meet us the next morning at mile 77.9. I changed shoes, ate and repacked my pack with extra snacks. Soon Chris and I were off into the night.

Sonju Lake Road Aid station is another 7.5 miles away. From there Crosby-Manitou is a short 4.2 mile jaunt down the trail. These sections went by slowly, but uneventfully. It was rocky, rooty & dark. The little sliver of moon set early, and the stars came out. Chris & I eventually made our way to Crosby-Manitou.

I knew this would be a longer aid station stop. I needed calories, and was looking forward to my annual Crosby hamburger. Every year I eat a hamburger at this aid station and it always seems to perk me up & a nice change of pace from all the sugar I’ve been consuming. Friendly faces and super helpful volunteers make this a true oasis in the woods. The fire is warm, the music is upbeat & its easy to want to continue to sit by the fire. I tried to get in and out of here in an efficient manner, but I was still taking longer than I had in previous years.

Out of Crosby, it is a LONG 9.4 miles in the middle of the night to the Sugarloaf aid station. The technical downhill to the Manitou River caused my first (and only) fall of the day as I hit my backside on slippery rocks & tumbled into the bushes. Chris played the tough love card, and got me moving again before I could whine too much about it hurting. I’m so grateful for my friend who wanted to accompany me so many miles in the middle of the night down an unforgiving trail. I know this section well and was pointing out the campsites along the way as checkpoints that we were going to eventually get to the next aid station. The sun is coming up as we finally cross the cute covered bridge that I know as a final landmark before Sugarloaf. But my goodness, that aid station just wasn’t coming. Then there were the aid station signs that volunteers had put out telling us that we were “almost there.” Let’s just say that “almost there” at this point in the race is quite deceiving!

We finally reach Sugarloaf & I try to get some savory food in. I’m already tired of sweet things. Bacon, and hash browns seem to help & I’m eager to get to Cramer Road where I’ll pick up my next pacer, Willow, see Matt & Sandy, and hopefully pick up some energy of the marathoners who are starting at 8am from that same area.

In year’s past I’ve been out of the Cramer Road aid station before the marathoners and soaked up all their energy as their fresh faces, clean clothes & good energy pull me down the trail for the final 25 miles.

This year it would be close, and I wasn’t moving as fast or efficiently as I would have hoped. As we get closer to Cramer Road we can hear the Race Director giving final announcements and the music blasting from the speakers. I just wanted to get there, but again the aid station seemed like a long way away.

As we came out of the woods, there is a short road section before turning back on the trail that leads to the aid station. As Chris & I head down the road, here come the marathoners toward us. The fast runners sprinting down the road. And I knew we were all going to bottleneck onto the narrow single track I was about to turn down. I was not prepared to be seeing the marathoners here. I usually see them on the other side of the aid station, today my mood plummets. I’m definitely behind schedule. I’m tired. My feet hurt. The tears start to fall. I don’t want to lose my momentum stepping off the trail for the marathoners, but they are moving fast, feeling fresh, and I feel like I’m getting in their way. I step to the far right side of the trail, walking slowly, feeling sorry for myself. The feeling doesn’t last long as every single one of them cheers me on, wishes me good job, or some form of encouragement. My mood lightens. And soon a few more friendly faces, then my friend Eric is right beside me! He grabs my hand and we jog a few paces toward the aid station. I’m so happy to see him. I come into the aid station, and there is Matt, Sandy, and Willow, all ready to help me get ready to complete the final 25 miles.

I sit at this aid station, fixing my feet, eating and trying to get ready for the final push. I thank Chris for her company all night long, and hope she gets to go take a nap soon. Willow & I head off into the woods. It’s sometime after 8am on Saturday morning. I’m struggling, but energized with some fresh company, a new day & the taste of the finish line coming before dark, if I keep moving.

The next section is 7.1 miles to the Temperance aid station. This section has some demons from my 2013 race when I sat down somewhere in the section and refused to go on. I battle these demons every single time I run this section whether in the race or in training. As a result of frequently training on this section, I know it very well. We run some of the early miles, and then as it gets more technical closer to the river we slow down. I do need to go to the bathroom and I know there is a latrine in one of the campsites a long the river. I’m wandering around a campsite looking for the latrine when my coach, Jake, comes bounding through the woods. He looks fresh and happy. He’s running the 50 mile race which had started much earlier that same morning. There’s not another 50 mile runner around him. He goes on to win the 50 mile race and set a course record in the process.

I decide that I need to keep moving after not finding the latrine. It’s only about 2 miles now to the aid station, and I desperately need to find some cover. However there is no place to step into the woods. I can’t take in any more food unless something comes out… If you get my drift…

I haven’t taken in any calories in 30-40 minutes by the time I reach the Temperance aid station. Luckily there are porta-pottys there, and I immediately find an open one. This aid station takes a little longer because now I need to get in calories. I’m very low energy after not taking in food for 30-40 min before arriving there. I literally have to force myself to eat before I can go on. I logically know I have to eat if I am going continue, but it sure is hard to get those calories on board.

Pancakes and bacon for breakfast…

Trying to get food in, while Matt & Willow cater to my needs.

Eventually I get enough food to in to start perking up and head out with Willow. There’s only 2 aid stations left. The end is getting closer. This section is only 5.7 miles and includes the climb up Carlton Peak. This is another section I know well. We go down one side of the Temperance River, up the other side and make our way towards Carlton Peak. I’m still not moving that fast, and struggling to get food in, but we’re moving.

Eventually we reach the Sawbill Aid Station. I sip on some coke, grab a baggie of potato chips and we’re out of there. Everything hurts now, so stopping for too long just prolongs the pain. I’m ready to get this done.

Willow is a great pacer, telling me stories of her races, reminding me to eat, and handing me potato chips to munch on when I’m losing energy. The Sawbill to Oberg section is only 5.5 miles, and fairly runnable (on fresh legs) but it feels like it’s taking forever. The end is so close, but yet so far.

It’s somewhere in this section that Willow announces that it’s 6pm. “Wait, what?” I say. I know I have 3 hours or so of running left, and this is a hit to my mood. If it’s 6pm I’m going to be finishing in the dark and worrying about final race cut offs. I immediately burst into tears. I’m trying to choke back tears when I realize something. “Willow, are you sure we haven’t been running together for 6 hours?” I ask. She thinks for a minute, starts giggling and then agrees with me. It’s only about 3pm. We’ve been together for 6 hours. Whew! I’ll still be done before dark!

The Oberg aid station is a sight for sore eyes. It is the last stop before the finish & run by the amazing TC Running Company. I take a moment to sit & eat here, as I still have a couple of hours before I make it to the finish line. I’m not feeling great, but know that I’m going to bag another finish, and super happy to get this thing done.

Leaving Oberg behind. Finish line is the next stop. 7.1 miles away.

The last 7.1 miles, are always a challenge. There are 2 big climbs, Moose & Mystery Mountains and then the view of the finish line about 2.5 miles from the actual end. You have to keep eating because if you don’t this becomes the longest 7.1 miles of your life, and eating is the last thing I want to do. You can’t go faster if you don’t eat, but you don’t want to eat, so you can’t go fast…. it’s a viscous cycle. Finally the roar of the Poplar River can be heard through the trees, and you know you’ve got it in the bag. After crossing the river, it’s up a wide trail to the paved road of Lutsen Mountain. Down the road to Caribou Highlands, around the pool to the finish line.

I jogged it in battling being light headed, and was happy to arrive before dark. 34 hours & 7 min after starting at Gooseberry Falls I finished. Greeted by awesome volunteers, Matt, Sandy, Alisha & a whole host of friends, I was grateful for the body & mind that allowed me another finish.

A big thank you the Race Director, John Storkamp, Rocksteady Running, and all the volunteers that put on these events. They allow us to push ourselves, and explore places of our mind that we might not otherwise tap into. I always find the domino effect of these events to be so amazing.

Finish Line. PC Sandy Leis

Now that’s true love. My main squeeze. Couldn’t do it without his love and support. PC M. Volk.

Superstar pacers! Chris & Willow.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. And THANK YOU for your support.

Until next time! Happy trails and happy running!

Never Summer 100k DNF report

An adventure in the mountains.

I’m always looking for running events that will challenge me in new ways. One of my biggest fears is fear of complacency; getting comfortable & no longer growing. With that in mind I signed up for the Never Summer 100k held at State Forest State Park in Colorado. The race is about 60 miles west of Ft Collins in a remote section of wilderness that bumps up to Rocky Mountain National Park. 

The rumors of this race being a 100k that runs like a 100 mile race is true. It is remote, lots of climbing and a 24 hr cut off. I knew going into it that I would likely need all 24 hrs to get it done. The race starts at 9,000’ and goes up from there. 

I signed up for this race with my friends, Alisha & Jen. Matt & I drove out to Colorado with dogs & camper in tow, and camped with Alisha & her husband, Wade, at the Ranger Lake Campground. We arrived the Thursday afternoon before the race. 

Saturday morning arrived and the race started at 5:30 am. Our campground was about 2 miles from the start & we arrived with just enough time to snap some pictures, and listen to the pre-race briefing. 

With headlamps on, trekking poles attached to our packs, and a mind ready for a day on the trail, the race started. The first few miles we trucked right along on a two track trail with the slightest amount of grade. We were chatting & moving well. Soon we came to the first big climb of the day which would take us up 7 Utes peak. 

It was cool, but clear & we were right on our anticipated pace. I don’t know how many times we’d stop & say “it’s so pretty!” The views were amazing. 

I had been battling a head cold for the week leading into the race, and even though I was getting good sleep, taking all my vitamins & laying low in the days prior to the race, I still wasn’t 100%. I’d periodically have to stop & cough on the climbs and I simply couldn’t attack the climbs like I wanted to without my heartbeat jackhammering in my chest. I felt like I was having to climb so painfully slow to maintain a consistent effort. And while we were spending a lot of time around 10,000’ on course, I was struggling. I didn’t feel like myself at all. I couldn’t get my mind right. I’d have thoughts of DNF (did not finish) and I would catch myself and override those thoughts with a mantra- I am strong, I am capable. 

We arrived at the first aid station at 11+ miles on track, but feeling a little pressure to get to the 17 mile aid station ahead of the cut off. We had just done a ton of climbing & knew if the next section was anything like what we just did, we’d be hard pressed to get there in time. 

The next section climbed some, up to a beautiful section of high alpine meadow, but then it was a lot of downhill where we were able to gain some time on the cut offs into the next aid station. I was continuing to struggle and told Alisha & Jen to go ahead & I would meet them at the aid station. 

I was only a min or two behind them when we got into the 17 mile aid station where Matt & Wade were waiting for us. This race is tough to crew with how remote the aid stations are & the narrow gravel roads to access them. Many aid stations are hike in & as a result we weren’t planning on seeing Matt & Wade the rest of the day. 

We left the 17 mile aid station, and after a short jog up the road, turned onto a two track trail & started climbing. The clouds were starting to build around us & we could hear thunder somewhere in the distance, although it felt ominously close. When we turned onto the trail, the course marshal warned us not to climb too high if there was lightening. Not knowing what was ahead, being well within tree line & only a few sprinkles we climbed on. The climb continued & we would go from sprinkles to sun with rumbles of thunder. Jen & Alisha were climbing stronger than I was and were up the trail but still within sight. We turned off the main trail & headed straight up what seemed like a game trail, my mile split times were continuing to get slower. I was having to stop more often to catch my breath. The thunder continued to rumble & clouds were building. We continued straight up the mountain - literally, so steep that I was at risk of falling backwards if I leaned back at all. I was using my poles to help pull myself up & going one slow step at a time. I was starting to get worried, I was red-lining my effort & this wasn’t even what was considered the hardest part of the course. I was near tears. I was definitely outside of my comfort zone. We were coming out of the trees, still climbing  straight up when an course Marshall/first responder told us to not go over the summit of the mountain we were climbing,  but to skirt around the edge of it. This still required another couple hundred feet of going straight up the face of the mountain. We saw the area he wanted us to take, but it was still exposed, and the clouds were getting even thicker. We had to go along the side of the mountain, it was so steep that my right hand could touch the ground next to me. One wrong step & it was a long way down. The rocks were loose, and you weren’t sure if the step you took would hold. The rocks scattering down the mountainside were echoing my thoughts of how dangerous this was. But we had to keep moving forward. We could see the open saddle we needed to cross & the trail ahead, but it was still all above tree line & completely exposed to the elements. After 45 min we got across the mountain & were making our way across the saddle when the weather really started to deteriorate. We stopped and put on our jackets & kept moving as quickly as possible. I just kept thinking we need to get out of here. The thunder rumbled, then the lightening strikes & then the hail & driving winds. We had to take cover. We went over the edge of the ridge, still above tree line & hunkered down. The pounding hail was incredibly painful. We sat down, trying to make ourselves as small possible while the worst of it passed. The hail let up & we continued on in the driving rain. We needed to get to that next aid station. We needed to get below tree line. I was freezing & soaked to the bone. The wind was still howling & even with gloves on I couldn’t feel my hands to hold my poles. We finally get to a section of trail where we are protected & the rain lets up some. I am on the verge of tears again & desperately needed to get my wet gloves off my hands. My hands are so cold they won’t work. Luckily Jen helped get my poles on my pack & handwarmers out just as volunteer showed up & said the aid station was just up the trail. 

We scurried into the aid station, and shaking I was escorted into a warm vehicle. I could not stop shivering. The car thermometer read 43 degrees. There were 4 other runners hunkered down in the truck too. We were all chilled to the bone. 

I was done. Ready to turn in my number and call it. I had thought for sure there was a cut off at this aid station and they’d be pulling me anyway. 

Soon Alisha showed up outside the car & said she was going to go down to the next aid station 6 miles away. I was still shivering uncontrollably & it was still raining. There was no way I could go with her. There was crew access at the next aid station & I texted Matt & Wade to meet her & Jen there. I was planning on calling it at this aid station. I was in no shape to leave. 

Cell phone service had been very limited in the area & I happened to have perfect service at the aid station. I texted a few friends & tried to warm up. 

The other runners in the truck were talking about heading down to the next aid station. It had stopped raining & the sun was coming out. From what I understood, if I stayed at this aid station, it would be a couple of hours before I could possibly get a ride back down the mountain to the finish & then I would have no service & no way to reach Matt to tell him where I was. 

I ambivalently decided to go with the other runners to the next aid station 6 miles away. I texted Matt I was on the way. 

The sun was out & this section of the course was mostly downhill. I started running & actually felt quite good. The temp started to rise & I was drying out. I even took off my jacket. I chatted with some of the others who were in the truck & we’d all been stuck on the ridge in the storm. 

My body & legs actually felt really good, but my mind was done. I was happy with my decision of dropping and enjoyed running in the final few miles. 

Two miles out from the aid station, the sky opened up & it started to hail... again.... because if there was any doubt I was going to drop, this was the nail in the coffin. Two hail storms in 30 miles, and I was plenty happy to go back to camp and call it a day. 

I pressed on to the aid station, in the hail, thunder & lightening, but at least this time I was well below tree line. Jen, Alisha & the guys were waiting there, ready to get out of the storm. Jen & Alisha has missed the cut off at this aid station by 2 min. We were all calling it a day. 

I have no regrets. I got everything I was looking for - a hard effort, pushing the edges of my comfort zone & an incredible experience in the mountains.

Until next time… -Kate

Road Trip!

At the starting line. Kate, Alisha & Jen

Early morning views

All smiles as we climb higher.

Making our way around Lake Agnes

Lots of rocks!

Some steep climbing on the way up Diamond Peak

Less than excited about the second hail storm of the day. This was when I was hiking it in at the end.

Superior 100 2018 Edition

“Don’t let your past dictate your future.” 

 This statement was at the forefront of my mind during the Superior 100 this year.  It was a quote in an article written by fellow ultra runner, Susan Donnelly, that she had posted on social media in the days leading up to this year’s race.  You can find the article in its entirety here: http://susanidonnelly.com/blog/my-dad-fort-knox-and-your-future 

Speaking of the days leading up to Superior, it had been quite a rollercoaster.  My summer of running, racing and training had been going well.  I set a 10 minute personal best at my favorite 50 miler, the Voyageur 50 mile trail race, the last weekend in July.  I ran the Marquette 50k trail race 2 weeks later on tired legs, and little sleep as a final long training weekend.  After that I was really looking forward to a nice taper before my goal race of the season the Superior Fall Trail Races 100 miler.

 One week after Marquette, in the first mile of my Saturday morning long run, I stepped on a rock or root and immediately turned my ankle.  I had injured the same ankle on a run in April; it had healed and hadn’t given me any issues up until then.  It hurt so bad! I limped painfully back to the car where I was able get ice cold water on it right away. I was totally bummed.  I had no idea if I was going to be able to race in 13 days.  

 I spent the next 13 days tapering in a big way, with very little running, lots of icing, and trying to be as careful as possible.  I had no idea if it was going to hold up for 103.3 miles of rocky, rooty, single track trail.

 But I was definitely going to try.

 Race week arrived, and on Thursday morning Matt, my friend, Alisha, and I drove up to Two Harbors where the race would begin at Gooseberry State Park the next morning.  We set up camp, visited with my parents who would be with us for the weekend, and hit the pre-race meeting before calling it a day.

Pre-race photo by Ian Corless

Friday morning we made our last minute preparations and drove to Gooseberry State Park.  It was a beautiful morning, and the weather forecast looked ideal.  Rumor had it the trail was dry, and conditions were perfect.

 At 8am after hugs from our friends, and words from the race director, we were off down the trail. It was going to be a 103 mile adventure in the woods.  

At the start with the best crew chief ever!

Almost time to “Unleash the Leis”

These ladies are rockstars!

Alisha, Jen & I ready to go!

The first 4+ miles are on a paved bike path that runs parallel to Hwy 61 going north along Lake Superior.  I connected with Alisha, and my friend, Jodee (who paced me last year, and was taking her first crack at this event,) and we chatted easily those first few miles. Soon enough we crossed under the main road, and up the steps to the single track Superior Hiking Trail that we would be following all the way to Lutsen.  We wouldn’t see pavement again until we were within striking distance of the finish line.

We shifted into a single file line on the trail, trying to find our rhythm among the rocks and roots. It wasn’t but a few minutes into the single track that I stepped funny with my left leg, and my ankle gave me a “zinger.” Oh, ouch.  Crap. I hadn’t rolled it, but just a tiny bit of a funny foot placement, and it was not happy.  “Ok, be careful.  Watch every step,” I told myself.  I walked and ran, and made my way up the trail as carefully and efficiently as I could.  

 The first major landmark is the Split Rock River.  There were a number of volunteers there to help us navigate the river crossing since the bridge washed out a couple years ago.  I made it across with only the tip of one shoe getting wet. From there its up to the Split Rock aid station.  This came up faster than I thought it was going to.  Come to find out my GPS watch was a full mile off by this point – it showed 8.6 miles in, when we were actually over 9 miles in.  Ok, I was happy with my time given my conservative start once I realized the discrepancy with my watch.  

 10 more miles and we were at the first aid station (Beaver Bay) where crews were allowed. It’s always fun to come in here, since there is so much excitement.  Just about everyone’s crew is here and the energy is over the top.  

 I really try to spend as little time as possible in aid stations, but after finding the one muddy spot on the trail, and going over my shoes, I needed to change socks.  I took the time to change socks, refill my pack and grab a couple of cookies from the aid station table before getting back on the trail.

 As the day rolled into afternoon, and I kept checking off the aid stations, I started to worry less about my ankle.  I had found a rhythm and was moving consistently.  I spent most of the day running alone.  I didn’t mind the solo running.  In fact, I prefer it.  I was able to turn off my brain, soak up the day, and keep moving. 

On top of Mt Trudee. PC Cole Peyton

Friday afternoon miles. PC Dan LaPlante

Navigating the rocks and roots!! PC Dan LaPlante

The sun started to drop in the sky and the shadows were getting longer.  I was getting closer to the County Road 6 aid station at 43+ miles where I would prepare for sundown and pick up my pacer, Robyn. Robyn and I would run the entire night together.  Having a pacer overnight can really help those miles go by more quickly.

I got into the aid station at 7:30pm where my crew was waiting with my waist light, extra layers and a chicken wrap.  I was ready for some “real” food, after fueling on pb&j, tailwind, gels, honey stinger waffles, and who knows what else! I’m lucky that I can eat most anything during these events and not suffer any significant stomach upset. Many runners are not that fortunate.

It was still warm, so I tied a long sleeve shirt around my waist, finished my wrap, and grabbed Robyn.  It was time to go into the night.

The next 7 miles went by quickly as we chatted about who knows what… the sun set and it got totally dark, but before long we were following the spur trail into the Finland aid station at 51 miles.  This would be the last time I saw my crew until morning.  It was about 10:00pm and I fueled up on mashed potatoes and bacon.  So delicious.  I didn’t have much more I needed to do, so Robyn and I headed off back down the trail. The more time spent at the aid stations, the later your finish time is going to be, so I really try to be efficient in them.  

Another 7 miles and we arrived at the Sonju Lake aid station where there is no crew access. This is a quiet mirage in the middle of nowhere compared to some of the other aid stations.  I didn’t need much here, some food, a refill of water in my pack, and we were on our way. 

 The night was beautiful.  I felt like I was still moving consistently.  4 more miles and we came to the Crosby aid station where I had packed a drop bag with essentials to get me through the night.  I spent longer here, enjoying what I call the “best, worst hamburgers” (they’re only good because it’s the middle of the night and you’re in the middle of the wilderness,) going through my drop bag, dumping the rocks out of my shoes and spending a few minutes in the pit toilet (hooray for not having to squat!)  

The Crosby section is one of the harder sections on the course.  At 9.4 miles it’s one of the longer sections.  It starts with a long decent to the Manitou River, then it’s a long (really long) uphill to Horseshoe Ridge.  From there it’s some nondescript single track to the Caribou River, then some runnable trail to a covered bridge and then another mile or so to the aid station.  I have done this section a number of times in the daylight during training, so I can learn the landmarks and be better mentally prepared for this long, dark, section.  I’d like to say it helped, and it may have, but I still struggled.  

 Robyn was doing an awesome job of keeping me entertained with stories of kids, backpacking, the boundary waters, cats, and life in general, but I still felt like this section would never end.  At one point we even came upon another runner and his pacer taking a nap along the trail, and it really startled me because at first glance, I didn’t think they were napping! I was sure they were dead! Luckily they were napping, and a few miles up the trail they easily passed us.

I got behind on my nutrition here, and started to feel like crap.  Robyn reminded me to eat and drink more, and within a few minutes, I was moving better again.  I was starting to get on the up-down energy rollercoaster. Feel good, feel gross, feel good, feel gross… I’ve done enough of these events to know that it always changes, so you just “ride the wave.”

We finally arrived at the Sugarloaf aid station.  It was 6:15am.  Robyn and I had been together for almost 11 hours.  The sun was coming up.  It was turning into another beautiful day.  My crew was here, and Robyn was staying here to volunteer until the aid station closed later that morning (talk about a rockstar! Run all night, volunteer all day! Robyn is amazing!)  I decided to change shoes and socks here, and prep for a new day.  Bacon and hash browns for “breakfast,” new shoes and socks and I was ready to rock the next 5 miles on my own.  I put in one ear bud and cued up the music.  I was ready for a new day.

This section started great, but towards the end, my left knee started to give me fits.  A sharp shooting pain out of the blue would sideline me for a step or two then go away.  I hobbled into the Cramer Road aid station where the marathon distance event started at 8am.  

I like arriving at Cramer Road before the marathon start, to soak up some of the energy of the fresh runners.  I figured they had all headed out already since it was after 8 when I got there.  I had some more food, a Tylenol for my knee and picked up my pacer, Cary.  We were back on the trail.  I was in a low thinking my knee was going to continue to bother me.

What I didn’t realize was the marathon course does a little extra before funneling onto the single track trail, and I was still on the trail ahead of many of the marathoners. A number of friends ran by giving cheers of encouragement.  I was starting to feel better.  Riding the wave.  Finding my rhythm again.  My friends, Alysia and Natasha, leap frogged me a few times snapping pictures. Pretty soon I forgot about my knee and my ankle and any of my previous lows.  Riding the wave.  Life was good.

I got into the next aid station, Temperance River, had a quick bite to eat, and hit the trail in record time.  All of a sudden, I was a woman on a mission.  I was feeling good, passing people, and knocking off decent mile splits (for 85 miles into a race at least!)  I started to ask Cary about what time it was, and we started to figure out if I could break 32 hours.  Earlier this summer, my goal for Superior was to try to break 32 hours. I had given that goal up with my most recent ankle injury.  But here I was 85+ miles into my race, and feeling good.  Could I do it? 

“Don’t let your past dictate your future.”

Just because I hadn’t ever broken 32 hours before didn’t mean I couldn’t do it now… I needed to run no slower than 20 min pace for the rest of the race.  Now most of you could probably go out and walk a 20 min mile right now, but I was 85+ miles in, and knew I had a number of significant climbs left, and I didn’t know how much gas I had left in my tank.  

But I was definitely going to try.

And try I did. Up over Carlton Peak, into the Sawbill Aid station, through the fairly boring 5 mile Sawbill section, and into the final aid station at Oberg Trailhead.  I rolled in here at 1:45pm.  It was 7.1 miles to the finish.  20 min pace wouldn’t get me there now.  I needed more.  This section has 2 major climbs, Moose and Mystery Mountain.  I didn’t know if I could do it.

But I was definitely going to try.

I ran as much as I possibly could.  At Moose Mountain I hiked as hard as I could.  On the downhill from Moose, I passed my good friend, Stephanie Hoff, who was struggling, but would with no doubt make it in with plenty of time to spare; high fives and cheers from her and her pacers pushed me onward to Mystery Mountain.  A number of runners on the switchbacks up the last major climb gave me something to aim for, and I continued to pass as many of them as I could.  I know the landmarks toward the end of the course, and they started coming up – the corner where you can see the ski resort, but turn the opposite direction, the campground, the downhill toward the river and FINALLY the Poplar River - the last major land mark before turning off the Superior Hiking trail onto a two track that leads to Lutsen Ski Resort.  All along, Cary had been behind me, keeping me going, reminding me to continue to fuel, hydrate, mile splits and the time of day, and staying focused on my goal - getting in before 4pm and breaking 32 hours. 

I ran that two track, and road through the ski resort as hard as I could. I still didn’t know if I would make it before 4pm.  It was getting close. 

But I was definitely going to try.

 I rounded the corner of Caribou Highlands Resort, around the pool, and into the finish area – 31:56… I was greeted at the finish line by friend, and awesome volunteer, Julie, and my amazing crew and family, tears streaming down my face.  I did it.  I really did.  With all the doubts leading into the race, I still hit my goal of running sub-32 at Superior, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Finish line tears. PC Sandy Leis

It was one heck of a race.  I’m not sure what possessed me to decide to run sub-32 in the first place, but that goal motivated me to put forth my hardest effort yet, and a  33 min PR from my 2015 time of 32:29.

I could not have reached my goal without the help of my coach Jake at Trail Transformation, my amazing crew that included my wonderfully supportive husband, Matt, and his Mom, Sandy; my fabulous pacers, Robyn & Cary; all the wonderful race volunteers and Rocksteady Running.

And remember, don’t let your past dictate your future.

Top notch crew! My mother in law, Sandy, and hubby, Matt. Love you both!! PC Alysia Zens

Thank you pacers! I couldn’t have done it without you!! You guys rock!

Until next time!
Thanks for reading.

Dirty 30 50k Trail Race Report

I started looking for a mountain race after the Tuscobia 80 mile Winter Ultra back in December. After finishing Tuscobia, I knew I was ready to test myself in the mountains, but I also knew I wasn’t ready for a mountain 100 miler. A quick search on ultrasignup.com brought up the Dirty 30. 

Matt and I had also decided that an out west camping trip was on the agenda this year. This looked like the perfect excuse to do both!!

We left Minnesota on the Wednesday evening prior to the race and we made it to Sioux Falls, SD, where we camped for the night. The next day we were on the road bright and early with Black Hawk, CO, our next destination. 

It was long, but beautiful; and at the end, a little sketchy on the winding, two lane mountain road to the campground at 9,000'. But we made it safely and had the camper set up before dark. 

Friday we hiked, hit packet pickup, and enjoyed a beer at a local brewery, dinner at the camper and an early bedtime. 

The race offered 3 Start times: 6am for 9-11 hour finishers, 7am for 7-9 hour finishers and 8am for the 4-6 hour finishes/elite runners. I opted for the 7am start time, figuring I could finish this in 8 hours or so. Leading into the race, I wasn’t worried about cut offs. 

The race offered a shuttle that picked up runners across the road from our campground. I got up at 4:15am, got ready and headed to the bus an hour later. 

While riding the bus to the start by myself I thought of the previous pre-race buses I’ve ridden and how different, yet similar they have all been. I found a kind of peace in this right of passage. It wasn’t long and we were pulling into Golden Gate Canyon State Park. 

It was chilly as the sun came up, but there was a spot at the start to drop coats and bags. We had to wait in line to check in so I struck up a conversation with the guy in front of me. He was a Colorado transplant from Cleveland, and we swapped stories about Midwest winters while we waited. 

Soon enough it was time to line up. They sang the Star Spangled Banner and after a few announcements, we were off. 

Waiting for the race to start.

After short jog up the road, we merged into a single track trail.  Prior to the event I was concerned about the race being too crowded for my liking (I very much do not like crowds.) Come to find out, I needn’t be worried, as I ran alone most of the day. 

The Congo-Line of runners jogged up the trail, and it wasn’t long before I found myself totally out of breath and needing to walk. We were starting at 7000’ elevation and climbing, after all. My bib clearly indicated that I was a “lowlander” (coming from somewhere below 2000’,) and I was feeling the lack of oxygen already. I stepped aside to let some folks pass, and within that first mile I was alone. Another mile or so in I was warming up and stopped to take off my wind shell. There wasn’t another runner in sight. I honestly think I was the last person on the trail from the 7am start time. 

I was so happy to be out there; it was a picture perfect morning with ideal temps and a clear blue sky. The single track trail was lovely and when it flattened out or went downhill, I thoroughly enjoyed running it. But otherwise, I was hiking. 

After 5 miles and a glorious downhill section, I came to the first aid station. I was good on water and nutrition, so kept going. The trail turned upward, I started hiking. It was so glorious; I didn’t mind the slower pace to take in all the amazing scenery. 

There were course marshals on the trail at the potentially confusing trail junctions, and they were all having a blast.  It was fun to come upon them having a mini party in the middle of the wilderness. 

Early Trail Miles

Singletrack dreams are made here!

The view coming out of Aid Station 1.

Another seven miles got me to the next aid station. I was feeling good and just so happy to have the sun on my shoulders (possibly a bit too much by the end of the day!) and dirt trails under my feet. I felt like I was moving well. 

The next five miles were really tough. A lot of climbing on some technical single track very much like the Superior Hiking Trail - except at 9000’ and climbs that lasted for miles. The downhill of this section was equally technical and I wasn’t making good time. I caught up to another runner and we chatted a bit which was a nice diversion, until we went off course… We only needed to backtrack a little bit before we found the course markers, thank goodness!

A bit more technical

More rocks.  Going Up!

Amazing view from here!

Headed back down.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got into the next aid station at 17 miles. The runner I had been chatting with earlier was also there and she was asking the volunteers about cut offs. There was some concern that we may not make it ahead of the cutoff times. 

I took care of what I needed to at the aid station and headed out. The other runner was with me and she was really worried. I told her I wasn’t going to worry about it. I knew I was giving it everything I had, and that they would have to pull me, but I was going to keep moving and keep putting out the effort to get this done. I didn’t give the thought of not making it much time. I would do what I could and if that wasn’t enough, well then, so be it.  But it wouldn’t be for lack of trying!!  I came out here for looking for a  hard mountain effort and I found it.  I was soaking up every hard minute of this beautiful adventure.

The climb out of aid station 3 was long, but there were some lovely down hills to run to make up some time and my legs felt great. I was thrilled to run when I could!

I made it to the next aid station still feeling good, but knowing there was at least one more major climb after mile 25. 

Fueled up, I ran the downhill out of the aid station passing a number of runners. It wasn’t long before a course marshal pointed us to another trail that would lead to the windy peak section. The runners coming up this trail were looking rough. I was smiling and having a blast. I should have been worried about how bad those runners looked... I had no idea what was ahead. 

It was during this section that I decided that Colorado miles are different from Minnesota miles.... as this loop wasn’t that “long” but it took me forever to get to Windy Peak and back. This section was a loop with an out & back to the top of Windy Peak. The initial trail I had turned onto split to the left and we started climbing.  And climbing. And climbing.  I was dying, or so I thought.  I kept thinking that we had to be almost there.  Then in the woods we came to a course marshal for the actual turn off to Windy Peak.  He said it was just another .6 of a mile to the top. It felt SO MUCH FARTHER THAN THAT!  I’d already been climbing for probably 45 minutes. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. I was moving at probably 30 min/mile pace & struggling to keep that. I leapfrogged another runner, Rich, on the way to the top. When we finally got to the top and our bibs marked with a “W” we took a picture and quickly headed back down. The other runners still coming up looked exactly as I had felt. Defeated.  Tired.   It was hard telling them it was farther to the top than then they wanted to hear. Rich and I ran down to the final aid station together. There was a Colorado “Eagle” there and I was so happy to have made it down from Windy Peak that I took a selfie with the eagle to celebrate. It was 2.1 miles to the finish. Yes! I would make it after all!

Top of Windy Peak!

Happiest selfie with an eagle ever!

I filled my bottle with some water and got moving. Still running the down hills, my legs felt great. It was just my lungs that were tired from breathing so much that I was struggling on the up hills. I started up the climb back to the main trail & came across Rich taking a break in the shade. He caught up to me and we ran the last mile or so downhill together and finished with high fives at the finish line. 

It was super fun to run this race!!!  I was glad to be done, but had the most amazing time in the mountains, even if my 9:40 finishing time said otherwise! 

There weren’t many people hanging around, as we were only 20 min under the final race cutoff of 10 hours! I found my drop bags & the shuttle back to the campground. It had been an epic day, but I was ready to get back to Matt and the dogs. As I got on the bus, the remaining seat was next to my new friend, Rich, and we chatted about what an epic day on the trail it had been.

It wasn’t long and the bus pulled in across from the campground and I shuffled my way back to camp.  What a fabulous adventure I’d just had.  I was gloriously tired and dirty.  I have to say, I have the most amazing hubby ever, as he never once complained about me taking a day from our vacation to go do this.  I am so lucky and so grateful.

May the sun be on your shoulders and a trail be under your feet.  Until next time.

Finisher hat and medal.

Just Keep Walking

This weekend I embarked on an adventure I won’t soon forget.  Back in August, Matt encouraged me to sign up for the Tuscobia 80 mile winter ultra.  Never one to shy away from a challenge, I signed up, and with guidance from my coach, started training.  Saturday, December 30, I lined up with my fellow racers in Park Falls, Wi, with temperatures around -15* F.  It was 80 miles to the finish line in Rice Lake.  We had 37 hours to do it in.  We could not accept any outside assistance from friends or family.  One could however get help from other racers, the race volunteers at the 1 checkpoint or stop at businesses along the way, but otherwise we had to carry anything we would need with us.

To carry the required gear, nutrition, water & supplies I would need, I pulled a sled.  Training leading up to this event included pulling a tire to stimulate a sled before we had snow, strength training, running, and then pulling the actual sled once we had enough snow to do it in.  Temperatures leading up the race had been mild most of the winter until the week before when an arctic blast settled over the Midwest, sending temperatures into the double digits below zero.  Going into this at that temperature was going to be a whole new challenge.  Things freeze very quickly when it’s that cold!

Friday afternoon before the race I met up with fellow racer, Angela, to ride to Rice Lake & split a hotel room with.  Traffic was bad, and it was slow going to get to race check in.  We got there with just enough time to do gear check before the mandatory race meeting at 7pm.  The race meeting lasted an hour, and we were getting hungry, since neither of us had eaten since much earlier that day! After the meeting we connected with a couple other runners, and headed to Perkins to get something to eat. 

By 9pm, we were checking into the hotel & nervously making last minute gear adjustments.  How cold was it going to be? How many layers do I need? Where’s my “oh shit jacket” (the warmest jacket you can find that you’d put on only if you needed to stop & bivy.)  It was probably after 11pm when we settled in and turned out the lights.  The 5:30am alarm would come soon.

The next morning we got up and got to the race headquarters to drop the sleds in the trailer and load the bus for the 2 hour ride to the starting line in Park Falls.  I had grabbed a donut at the hotel to eat, since planning breakfast had been the farthest thing from my mind.  As we rode up to Park Falls, I realized I didn’t have anything to eat! Who doesn’t plan breakfast?? That was quite an oversight on my part.  I was hoping for something in Park Falls, but given the remote nature of the race, I kept my expectations low.

We arrived in Park Falls, and were deposited at a church, which graciously opened their doors for us and inside they had hot coffee and more donuts! So, I had a second donut…. I wouldn’t recommend fueling for an event on donuts, but given my lack of forethought, it would be what it was going to be….

At 10am we were lined up outside and with a quick announcement, we were off into the chilly air.  The first few miles we tried to find our rhythm on the trail and get warm after standing around at the start.  I enjoyed chatting with some folks along the way, but it’s hard to talk and hear when you’re so covered and the sound of the sled is rumbling along behind you.  It didn’t take long for everyone to get spread out.  From then on, all you could see were the blinkie lights of others down the trail.

As with most ultra and running events, this is a solo endeavor, and you spend quite a bit of time alone, but it is the community of the other athletes, volunteers, and friends cheering on from home, that keep you moving.

As the morning turned to afternoon, the sun was bright, the snow was crunchy, and I was moving well.  It was a beautiful day; I was warm in all my layers, and happy to be out experiencing it all.  At 25 or so miles, I dug out my phone and sent a couple texts to my mom & Matt let them know I was fine.  The sun would be setting soon, and I knew they were curious how it was going.  I had to be careful how much I used my phone because in the extreme cold, my phone would die almost instantly.  I had to keep it buried deep in my pocket close to my body, so digging it out was an ordeal in and of itself!

Before sunset, we came to a road crossing where there were a couple of bars about a block away, I was feeling good, so continued on, thinking there would be something else soon.  I was still a long way from the checkpoint.  The race had 1 checkpoint at 35 miles near the town of Ojibwa.  I wouldn’t have minded a gas station to stop at to get some more food and water that wasn’t frozen to the point of being slushy.

I continued on, scanning the trail for any sign of civilization.  Nothing.  My hands were getting cold and I mentioned that to another runner as we shared a short conversation as he passed me.  He suggested to make sure to eat enough.  I was eating plenty, I assured him.  The sun went down, and I fully enjoyed a gorgeous sunset that will live in my memory, because I didn’t want to waste the effort & battery to get my phone out!  Soon my legs and my arms were cold.  I tried to eat more; I had peanut m&m’s, nutty bars, beef jerky… I couldn’t seem to shake the chill that was settling in.  And where is a gas station?? Nothing as far as I could see.  Time and miles started to move slower. 

The doubts and negativity started to creep in…  It’s so cold.  If you’re getting cold now, how are you going to make it through the night? Then tears started.  This is so hard.  Everything about it is hard.  Crying is a waste of energy.  Pull yourself together… Oh look, a brightly lit gas station! Thank goodness! Then the tears really started. 

I walked up to find a few other sleds parked outside, and a couple other runners sitting on stools in the back with the fishing bait and gear.  They asked how I was, and all I could do was shrug my shoulders and sniffle.  I needed food.  My logical mind knew that, but my emotions were all over the place.  I just wanted to quit.

I located a slice of hot pizza, a gallon of water and a cup of hot chocolate.  There were 2 other guys there who I had sat near on the bus, Mike & Brian.  As luck would have it, I would find them at every stop I made throughout the race.  I spent some time at the gas station, crying, eating, changing socks, adding another layer, and generally pulling myself together. I decided that no matter what, I would make it 4 more miles to Ojibwa checkpoint and then make the decision if I would continue on.  A few minutes before I was ready, my friend, Shawn rolled in, she was looking good, took one look at me and said, “I’m not leaving here without you.”  I was grateful to have someone to head into the cold and dark with. 

We get out on the trail, and she’s moving faster than I could.  But I can see her blinkie lights ahead of me.  Pretty soon, I find myself gaining on the blinking lights in the distance.  I catch up to her and next thing I know I’m moving well.  I feel like a new person. 

I’m even running some, I can’t believe how much better I feel.  But I’m worried about what’s to come if I continue past Ojibwa checkpoint.  Soon, I see the trail markers, pointing down a two track to the Ojibwa checkpoint.  I follow it to the checkpoint, and it’s a busy place.  A stone shelter in what feels like nowhere, with a warm fire, bright lights, and hosts of trail runners volunteering, taking care of our every need.  I walk into hugs, cheers, and more help than I knew what to do with.

I know I still need to pound calories; so grilled cheese and coke are on tap.  My neck gaiter, and hat are hanging by the fire.  Pictures are snapped, a real bathroom is out back, and after a little while, I know I need to leave.  But I’m scared.  It’s a long night ahead, and no resources after bar close in Wisconsin.   

My friend, Kari, who is an amazing winter athlete was doing the 160 mile option (yes, there is the option at this event to go 160 miles), her Mom was volunteering at the aid station.  I asked  her, “Rhendi, what do I do, if I can’t make it?”  She tells me, “Kate, you just keep walking.” But Rhendi….”Kate, keep walking.”  I get her phone number, just in case.  But I take her words, “Just keep walking,” and head out alone into the darkness.

It was 6 miles to the town of Radisson, I knew I needed to stop, if I had any chance of making it through the night.  I pulled into a bar, to find 2 sleds and some fat bikes out front.  Mike & Brian were there.  Yay for friendly faces! I wanted a hamburger, but the bar tender said at that hour (11:30pm) they only were serving pizza.  So pizza and another coke it was.  Calories are calories, and I needed them all right now.  I used the bathroom (yay for running water!), ate a slice of pizza, filled my water, and hit the trail.  Mike & Brian had left a little bit earlier, and we had made a pact – Breakfast in Birchwood (the next town 22 miles and 6-7 hours later.) 

This section gets a little fuzzy.  The most noteworthy parts were the moon (so bright I didn’t need my headlamp until it set in the wee hours of the morning), the solitude, and a few other athletes that I came across.  A conversation with a guy who was biking the 160 mile distance, and taking a break from riding, so he hiked & pushed his bike while we chatted for probably close to an hour.  I came across another runner who was struggling, who asked if I knew how to get a hold of help, since he wanted to drop.  We dug my phone out of a deep pocket and I called the race director.  He had help coming, and I needed to keep moving, since just that little stop and opening up my layers had caused me to get chilly.  Rumor has it the over night low was pushing -27*F.  I watched the moon move from over my left shoulder to in front of my right shoulder.  I kept eating, drinking, and moving.  I tried to think of another word besides “long” night…  I didn’t come up with anything. Any way you slice it, it was long.

I started to get impatient, looking for the town of Birchwood, I really wanted real food & my feet were killing me.  The moon had set, the wind had picked up again, and I was starting to get legitimately cold.  After what seemed like an eternity, I came across Birchwood and Ed’s Pit Stop gas station.  There were Mike & Brian warming up! Hooray, we made it through the night!

I was a bit of a mess.  As I took my parka off, the inside was covered in ice.  My fleece jacket was also covered in ice.  I was chilled to the bone.  I pulled off my shoes and socks to find 2 nasty blisters on my right foot and the beginning of a blister on the ball of my left foot.  Time to do some damage control.  I knew that if I was going to finish this thing, I needed to get warm and dry.  Plus my stomach was growling.  I was hungry!

 I spent a lot of time here.  Messages exchanged with Matt & Mom again.  I knew I had to finish this thing.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  But I had gotten this far, what’s another 17 miles…. Pain is temporary, pride is forever.

So, I ate, put on dry base layers, popped and dressed blisters, put on dry socks, different shoes, and loaded up to start moving toward the finish. 

This was the longest 17 miles ever.  A roller coaster of energy and emotions.  I’d feel good enough to run at some points, and then at other times, I’d be barely moving.  I needed to keep eating to keep my energy, but I was not at all excited by what I had with me.  One can only fuel on jerky and peanut m&m’s for so long… But I pressed on.  For 75 miles, you follow the Tuscobia state trail and then for the last 5 miles you turn onto another regional trail that takes you into the town of Rice Lake.  In the last few miles of the Tuscobia state trail, I noticed a truck parked at a road crossing ahead.  I knew it was Matt.  The tears started.  I just wanted to be done.  To crawl in the truck and stop moving.  I was so happy to see him and the dogs though! A quick hug at the corner and I had to keep going. 

Pretty soon I made the turn onto the trail for the last 5 miles.  It was wide open and straight as an arrow.  I was shuffling a long at a snail’s pace.  It would be a long 5 miles.  I kept looking ahead and hoping to see any sign of the finish area.  Although I didn’t know what it would look like, but just some clue that I was getting closer.  Nothing. I came across a spectator at a road crossing and promptly burst into tears again.  I was an emotional mess, but I just kept walking. 

There was something up the trail.  I couldn’t tell what it was, I kept staring at it, then I saw Matt and the dogs.  And then I heard the cheering.  What? I was done? This was the headquarters? And with that, more tears, I just wanted to be done, and now I was!! I couldn’t believe it.  I had persevered through the night and the cold, and made it 80 miles while pulling a sled.  This was by far, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

A full day later, I still can’t believe I did it.  I persevered through extreme cold, fatigue, blisters and chafing to walk/run/hike/slog 80 miles.  Only 50% of those that started the 80 mile finished.  This was not an event to take unnecessary risks, because risks could be deadly.  I have so much respect for everyone brave enough to start.  Thank you to all the volunteers who gave up their weekend to stand around in this cold, and to the race directors, Helen & Chris, who put on an amazing event.

Until next time.

At the starting line.

Moving slowly toward the finish line Sunday morning.

Close Up :)

The finish line!!! 

Superior 2017

“ We don’t grow when things are easy; we grow when we face challenges.” 

As I think about Superior 100, running ultras in general, and why I sign up for these events, this quote speaks to me.  I don’t sign up because they are easy.  I don’t take on the necessary training to complete them successfully because it is easy.  I don’t push myself out the door at the crack of dawn or the heat of the day because it is easy.  I do it, because it is hard.

The weekend started on Thursday when Matt and I headed north.  We enjoyed lunch at the Duluth Grill with fellow ultra runner, Kari, and her family.  After lunch we made our way up to Two Harbors to check into the campground where we were camping with my parents.   We got the tent set up, and enjoyed some time together before heading to the pre-race meeting.

Superior or Bust!

The pre-race meeting was a sea of people at the local 4-H building where it is held every year.  This year photographer, Ian Corless, was taking pre-race pictures of all the runners.  I picked up my number, got my picture taken, and socialized some before the meeting got underway.

Ian Corless Photo 

Race morning came quickly and I woke before my 5:30am alarm.  After a little breakfast and coffee with my parents, Matt and I were off to Gooseberry State Park and the race start.

Gooseberry is busy with racers, crews, spectators and volunteers getting ready for a long day(s) on the trail.  I checked in, shared hugs, and well wishes with fellow racers.  There was so much energy, you couldn’t help but be excited for what the day(s) would hold.  A few pre-race pictures, a brief message from the race director, and at 8:00am we were on our way.

My main man.

Stephanie & I ready to get going!

The first 4+ miles are on a paved trail that runs along Hwy 61 before heading into the woods and single track trail for the next 99 miles.  I had planned on running easy and just shaking out the legs this section.  I ended up running almost all of this section with my friend, Gary, and the miles passed easily, albeit, a little faster than I had planned, but I felt good, so I didn’t stress over it.

Into the woods we went, and I told Gary to go ahead of me.  There had been a lot of talk leading into the race about the mud this year.  I wasn’t worried.  I had run many sections of the course already this summer and didn’t find it any more muddy than usual.  I hadn’t run these early sections though.  They were muddy.  So muddy.  5 or 6 miles in, shoes caked in mud already, I stepped onto some boards, and my feet went out from under me.  I landed on my butt.  I wasn’t hurt, annoyed, but not hurt.  I pressed on.  Moving a bit more cautiously on the boards now.  My hip where I had landed started to bug me about an hour later.  I tried to ignore it.

Picking our way through the mud in the early miles.

We came to the Split Rock River crossing, where we would skip across the river on exposed rocks, guided by a line of volunteers.  It was super fun.  Friendly faces, and fresh water; carried by fresh legs over the river. Next up was the first aid station, a quick out and back on a spur trail leads to the aid station where no crews are allowed.  My friend, Chris, was working there, so I was looking forward to seeing her and checking the time to see how I was progressing.  I was in and out of there in no more than a minute.  Back up the spur trail, friends and other runners greeted me as they made their way down the trail. 

Split Rock River Crossing

The next section, 10.3 miles, is the longest distance we’d go without an aid station.  My hip was starting to bug me and it was making me crabby.  It was too early in the race to be crabby.  It was too beautiful a day to be crabby.  I was doing one of my favorite things.  I decided to take a Tylenol, eat more, and make sure I was drinking enough.  Oh what a difference that made.  My hip was forgotten, and I was feeling better, chatting with other runners, by the time we came to the next water crossing.  This time, it wasn’t fresh, clear, flowing water that we could skip across on rocks… instead it was mid-thigh, stagnant, muddy water that you couldn’t see the bottom of.  In I marched, no need to give it a second thought, I’d change shoes at the next aid station and make sure my feet weren’t getting irritated from being wet and muddy this early in the race.

At 20 miles we reached the Beaver Bay aid station and it was a flurry of activity.  I found my crew, and quickly got a fresh pair of shoes and socks on.  My feet felt so happy with dry socks! Oh the simple things!  Fresh shoes and socks, a pack full of snacks and water, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich square in hand, I was back out on the trail 

I was feeling good, and enjoying myself before we came to more mud.  Slippery, gross, slimy, mud.  I picked my way through it, but once again, my feet went out from under me.  Grrrr.  I got up, kept moving.  Nothing hurt, at least mud is soft… Just taking a hit at my pride, that was all.  I was starting to get a bad attitude.  Time to reset the brain.  I decided that I needed get my head in the game.  I shut off the grumpy brain, and instead tried to focus on gratitude. 

Look around, notice the views (amazing), listen to the birds (happy), check in with the legs (feeling fine), keep moving.  Run with a grateful heart.

Enjoying the view of Bean Lake.  One of my favorite spots on the trail.

The aid stations kept clicking off; Silver Bay, Tettegouche, and soon enough I was on my way to County Road 6.  County Road 6 is a big checkpoint because if you get there after a certain time, you can pick up your first pacer.  It’s also where I figured I needed to get a dry shirt, lights, and ready for the nighttime.

Coming into County Road 6

I got to County Road 6 later than I had planned, but it was still light out.  I took about 10 min to change my shirt, add layers and lights and pick up my pacer, Chris.  We headed out and chatted all the way to the Finland aid station.

Chris and I ready to leave County Road 6 aid station.

We arrived at Finland at 10pm.  I didn’t spend much time here. My pacer, Jodee, would join me and we’d run together all night.  I said good night to my crew, as they were headed back to the cabin to sleep, and Jodee and I took off.

3 weeks prior, Jodee, myself, and another runner, Laurel, had run this section.  Some how in those 3 weeks, the roots got taller, the sections longer, and the mud deeper.  It seemed like it took forever to get to Sonju Lake aid station.  I was starting to really crave protein.  I was eating at the top and bottom of the hour, but I was really tired of what I had with me (gels, sport beans, waffles, lara bars).  Finally arriving at Sonju aid station, I was thrilled to learn they had hamburgers.  I gobbled one down, refilled fluids, and headed back out. 

The night and the miles dragged on.  Finally the trail opened up to the road to the next aid station and I needed to run.  I had been basically hiking since Finland.  My legs had a different idea.  As much as I wanted to run, my right leg would run but my left leg was still walking.  It was hilarious.  Basically stuck in a shuffle, we progressed up the road, under a blanket of stars to the aid station.

I tried to not spend too much time here, and the details start to get a little fuzzy.  I know I was slower than I had anticipated.  It was cold, and I put on a second pair of gloves.  It didn’t take long before Jodee and I headed out – another 9+ miles to Sugarloaf aid station.  This section can be rough.  A technical downhill to the Manitou River followed by a long uphill on the other side.  Jodee and I both agreed that the climb didn’t seem as long as it did a few weeks before.  It seemed like it took forever to get to the Caribou River however, which is about 3 miles to the aid station.  After the river it gets more runnable.  I tried running, but it didn’t last long.  I was back to hiking.  This was taking forever.

We arrived into Sugarloaf almost 2 hours behind my anticipated time.  My next pacer, Alli, was waiting for us there.  She would call Matt and let him know how we were doing so he could meet us at the next aid station.  I decided to change shoes and reset.  It was almost light out now.  The sun would be up soon. 

Shoe change complete, pack refilled, Jodee and I headed back out.  Our friends Gary (from the paved path section) and his pacer, Tim, left just ahead of us.  We quickly caught up to them and shared a few miles of this section together.  It was fun to see them and chat about the race so far.  I was feeling good with the sun coming up, and began moving well.  I was definitely energized by the sun.  We arrived at the next aid station, Cramer Road, faster than I had anticipated. 

It was almost 8am when we arrived, and the marathoners were getting ready to hit the trail.  I didn’t stay here long.  Jodee was done pacing, and Alli was on board for the next few sections.  We hit the trail a few minutes ahead of the marathoners. 

Alli and I headed towards Temperance Aid Station.

Getting out that close to the marathoner start was a blessing and a curse.  I found myself stepping aside a lot for the fast runners, and losing my momentum.  But it sure was fun to see my friends who were running and soak in the cheers of the marathoners as they passed.  Seeing Silver Fox and Chrissy were definitely highlights!

Alli and I hit Temperance aid station, and were in and out.  The next section has a lot of runnable areas up to the big climb at Carlton Peak.  I knocked out a few 15 min miles here, and I was feeling good as I climbed the rocks up to Carlton Peak.  Just about a half marathon to go.  I could smell the barn.  Coming off Carlton Peak is a technical downhill then a nice easy section before the Sawbill Aid Station.  I was moving well.

We hit Sawbill, and I was craving protein again.  I was over anything sweet.  But there was nothing here except some chicken broth.  I sipped on that and we hit the trail.  I am not a fan of this next section.  It can be muddy, and feel longer than the 5+ miles it is to the final aid station.  I started to run out of steam.  I was still eating and drinking, but every time I would eat, it would be followed by about 10 min of nausea before I felt better.  So it went like this: top of the hour choke down 100 or so calories, 10 min later feel nauseous, then feel better, then need to eat again… repeat… I was starting to get crabby.  I didn’t want to talk.  I just wanted to be done.  Eventually, we arrived at Oberg, the last aid station.  From here it is 7+ miles to the finish line.

I was starting to feel blisters on my feet.  I was weary.  I needed to reset.  So I opted to change my socks.  My feet didn’t look as bad as they felt.  Alli & Jodee decided they would both pace me to the finish.  I was happy for the company, even though I had absolutely no interest in talking.

We headed into the final section.  I was motivated by the simple fact of getting done, taking off my shoes and no longer eating every 30 minutes.  The eat-nausea-energy cycle continued to repeat itself.  I struggled up Moose Mountain.  It took forever.  I picked my way down the technical downhill.  It took forever.  Next came Mystery Mountain and it’s beautiful switchbacks.  I had my poles, and I hit a rhythm.  Head down, poles, legs, arms in sync, I marched.  I was feeling good.  Then boom, I needed to eat again.  I was still far enough out, I better eat again, so another 100 calories down the hatch.  We had picked up 2 other marathoners at this point.  One was from South Africa.  I enjoyed listening to her accent.  We were getting closer.  I knew the landmarks – campground, river, two track, finish line.  I started a mantra in my mind: campground, river, two track, party.  With every step, I repeated it, campground, river, two track, party.  I pressed on.  After what felt like an eternity, I reached the campsite, then the river, then the gravel path to the parking area and road to the party (finish line.) 

Starting to close in on the finish line.

I ran some into the finish line, but after a minute or two, slowed to a walk.  I had made it.  I had two amazing pacers by my side.  I was so glad to be done, and so grateful for another finish.  I didn’t need to rush; I knew my main time goal had slipped away, so I just shuffled it in.  It was wonderful to round the corner of the pool at Caribou Highlands where my crew, parents and friends were all waiting. Superior 100 finish number 3 in the books in 32 hours and 32 minutes.  3 minutes slower than my 2015 finish time. 

Finish line smiles!

Love these ladies!! Wouldn't have wanted to do it without them!

I love this race, trail and ultra running community.  It is really amazing that we live where we can enjoy wilderness, top notch events, and a community of trail people who support all facets of this sport.

Thank you to all the volunteers and photographers on the course, Rocksteady Running, my awesome crew (Matt, and Sandy), my patient and fabulous pacers (Chris, Jodee, and Alli,) my ultra supportive parents, and my dear friends, Jennifer and Jonathan for coming out to support this crazy endeavor.  It truly is a community effort.

And let's not forget these two.  xoxo

Why?

Why do I run ultras? I have been asked this a number of times recently when people discover that I frequently do running events that are beyond the typical 26.2 mile marathon distance. 

I usually ask myself this during an event when it starts to get hard & uncomfortable.  Why am I out here? Why should I even keep going? This is hard.  It’s hot.  I’m tired.  I’m not having fun right now.  This dialog continues for a while until I get distracted, my mood improves or I make it to the finish line.  I soak up the finish line experience; go about my day and sooner or later sign up for another one.  So, why do I do it?

I don’t know that I have a singular answer.  So in a round about way, this is what I have come up with…

Fear of complacency.  My life is not “that” hard – I live where I have easy access to healthy food, safe places, and a comfortable living situation.  I enjoy my work. It is so easy to fall into a routine, sit on the couch, watch TV, not step outside of the comfort zone, and let the days and weeks run together.  It is so easy to get complacent.  It is easy to NOT do the hard things. 

Being in nature.  I love being outside.  I love being on the trails and moving through the natural world.  The birds, the critters, the changes in seasons; it all has value and adds to the experience.  I am not a fan of crowds, loud noises or a lot of chaos.  Finding peace and quite in nature is incredibly important to me.

I’m competitive.  Yes, I said it; I am a slightly competitive.  But mostly, I am competitive with myself.  Especially in running, you can’t control the weather, the other competitors or even the trail conditions, but you can push yourself on that day, and be competitive with yourself.  And that can take on a variety of forms that are beyond finishing faster than the last time at that distance or on that course – it could be figuring out your nutrition so you don’t hit a wall 2/3 of the way through the race, it could be starting out at an easier pace than you think you need so you can finish strong and not “death march” to the finish line or it could simply be the goal of being willing to adjust when things are not going exactly as planned. 

The community.  I love the trail running community.  The volunteers, the other runners, the groups that organize events, are all part of a great community of individuals all out to accomplish similar goals.  Meeting new friends and reconnecting with old friends are all part of the experience. 

The training.  Training for these events is no small under taking.  It requires patience, consistency, and putting the work in.  It allows me to stay in control of my health and in touch with my body.  I think this circles back to the point of being complacent – where you go about your day, and not realize that you are tensing your neck, eating poor quality foods or skimping on your rest.  Running allows me a chance to check in, see how I feel and where I need to make adjustments.  Do I need a rest day? Should I be eating more vegetables, protein, carbs? Is my body sending me signals that I haven’t taken the time to listen to?  This is all part of it.  Training also lets me connect with friends over a long run.  In this time of hectic schedules, combining running and friends make for a fun use of time and training.

Travel.  Doing these particular events allows me to explore beautiful areas in places that I’ve never been before.  It gives my husband, Matt, and I a reason to go camping and explore trails that we may not otherwise tried.  I’ve traveled a number of places to do events and found some spectacular areas that are just far enough off the beaten path you may not have found them on your own. 

This is the tip of the proverbial ultra running iceberg.  Not everyone needs to run endurance events.  But these are a few of the reasons why I do it.  I hope that you are inspired to do something that challenges you, gets you outside of your comfort zone and gets you moving in new directions, because you just never know what awesome experience is just around the next bend.

Until next time, happy trails!

Sunrise from the trail.

Ahhh... nothing better than the peace of a pine forest.

It's time to get moving!

Hallucination 100

Run Woodstock Hallucination 100 Race Report

Or, how to get by with a little help from your friends…

Every year for the last 5 years, I have had my biggest endurance event of the season the weekend after Labor Day.  Previously, it had been the Ironman Triathlon, or Superior 100 trail race.  This year I tried something new & signed up for the Hallucination 100 mile trail race in Pinckney, MI (which is only 2 miles from Hell, MI, so lets just call it Hell…)

The race is just over 60 miles from my parent’s house, so I was able to combine a family visit and the race in one weekend.   The event is advertised as “Run Woodstock – 3 days of peace, music & running.” It sounded interesting & different from any of the events I’d done before.  The course was 6 - 16.6 mile loops with aid stations every 4 miles, start time of 4pm on Friday afternoon, and cutoff at 30 hours or 10pm on Saturday. 

Matt and I, and Raleigh the puppy, headed to Michigan on Wednesday afternoon, with a quick overnight outside of Chicago before finishing up the drive on Thursday.  We arrived with plenty of time to relax Thursday evening & Friday morning before heading down to the race early afternoon on Friday.

There is camping available at the race start/finish area for those that sign up early enough to secure the sites.  Because I had registered fairly late, we did not have a campsite, and were required to park across the road & walk our gear into the start/finish area.  Matt was planning on “camping” out of the car parked across the road & occasionally meeting me at the aid station that was about half way on the loop. 

We have arrived!

We walked my gear over to the start/finish area, and the afternoon was really starting to heat up.  The sun was coming out and the humidity was on the rise.  I was already sweating.  My heart sank a little, as I placed my drop bag in the tent, and then found a cool spot in the shade to wait with Matt & Raleigh for the race to start.  I was hot and sticky and had barely walked a half mile… This was not good.

There was a “mandatory” pre-race meeting at 3pm.  It lasted 5 minutes.  Basically they said that part of the course was on roads that weren’t closed to traffic, crossed paved roads, and to watch for cars…. I was not impressed. 

Pre-race meeting & start/finish line.

There were people milling around everywhere.  Setting up camps, wandering around.  More people than any of the trail races I’d been at before.  And I didn’t know any of them.  It was odd.  Trail racing in Minnesota is a small, close knit, very friendly group.  I wasn’t feeling that here.  I had the name of one person who was a friend of a friend, but couldn’t remember exactly what she looked like.  I tried to stay calm and not worry about the late start, heat, and unknown events that lie ahead.

Soon enough, 4pm arrived, and the 100 mile & 100k runners all lined up together.  The 100k runners had to do 4 loops, the 100 mile, 6 loops.  Any 100 mile runner could drop to the 100k after 4 loops, however. 

Raleigh and I waiting for the start.

We ran through the campground before heading out onto the single track trail.  It was a conga line of runners, as we walked and shuffled along the trail.  The trail was soft, not rocky or rooted like the previous Superior Races I had done.  I was curious why people were walking, it wasn’t even hilly! But I tried to be patient, knowing that after awhile we’d all get spread out.  Sure enough after about 1.75 miles, we came out onto an open crushed gravel trail.  It was flat, and a great opportunity to let the group spread out a bit.  We ran that for a mile, and then turned back onto the single track.  It wasn’t far & we were coming into the first aid station at 4 miles.  It had taken me less than an hour, and I felt good.  I passed through the first aid station, and out onto a gravel road.  We followed the road for another mile and a quarter or so before turning onto another single track trail.  This section from aid station 1 to aid station 2 seemed long – aid station 2 was at 8.8 miles.  I crossed the timing mat and was sitting at 1:38.  My plan was to run loop one in 3:40 (as it turned out I ran the first loop in 3:25).  I left aid station 2 and headed to aid station 3 (which was actually aid station 1 again – you hit that one twice on each loop).  From aid station 2, it’s a two-track road up to a paved road, then you hit the single track trail again before meeting up with the gravel road that takes you back to AS 1/3.  I was excited that I was already back to AS 1/3 and headed for the Start/finish area.  I kept plugging along at a nice pace, feeling good, but geez, this section felt like a long 4 miles.  On every single loop, that last 4 mile section felt like it took forever! 

It's a little blurry, but we're headed off into the woods!

I came into the Start/Finish area after loop 1 feeling good.  The trail, I was hesitant to think, felt easy, and forgiving.  I grabbed my headlamp and a hand held flashlight for the second loop because it was only a matter of time before it started to get dark.  I left the start/finish AS just as the evening 5k got under way.   ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? I headed onto the trail, just as I had on the first loop, shuffling along, walking, and going really slow.  I was beyond irritated! I run trails so I don’t have to deal with crowds, and here I am shuffling along with a huge group of people??  Again, I talked myself into being patient.  “It was going to be a long race, stop getting so stressed out.  You’re going to want to walk later,” I told myself.  I took a deep breath, and soon enough was back out on the crushed gravel path, motoring right along. 

After this is where things start to get fuzzy.  The loops start to get jumbled in my head.  But this is what I know: it got dark, it started to rain.  And rain.  And rain.

I know that by the time I got to AS 1 on loop 2, it was dark, but it hadn’t started to rain.  I was basically running alone.  There were folks around, but I hadn’t really found anyone to chat with.  I met the friend of a friend, Linda, on loop 1 and we had chatted briefly before I pulled ahead.  I would play leapfrog with Linda throughout the race, and was always grateful for her cheerful words & positive attitude. 

By the time I got to AS 2, on loop 2, it had started to rain, but it wasn’t too bad.  It wasn’t cold, and after the humidity at the start, it actually felt ok.  I was moving well, and everything felt good.  I was continuing to eat & drink well.  I rolled into the start/finish AS at the end of loop 2 at 7:24.  Still under 4 hours for that loop. 

I was starting to get tired, so had some caffeine & more calories.  I saw Matt & I could tell he & Raleigh were getting tired.  I was hoping they could nap in the car while I continued on into the rainy night.  I could feel my attitude dropping with the continued rain and darkness, so turned on some music as I headed out on loop 3.  That helped some; until my IPod died.  And it started to rain harder.  I pressed on.  I connected with a woman for the last 6 miles of the loop, and we chatted some, which helped those miles pass more comfortably. 

Just over 4 hours later, I rolled back into the start/finish AS having finished 3 loops.  I was soaked to the bone from head to toe.  I knew I needed to regroup.  I didn’t see Matt anywhere, but I had my phone, so sent him a text letting him know I was in the AS (it was set up, so from the outside, you couldn’t see who was in there.)  I started to take off my shoes and socks, and get my feet dry.  That was my number 1 priority.  Get my feet dry, if even for only a few minutes.  I changed my shirt.  Matt came in with some hot broth, and that tasted amazing.  I was so grateful for the help.  He asked if I wanted a rain jacket, I said, “no,” I wasn’t cold, just wet.  I was still moving fast enough to stay warm.  I spent about 20 minutes in the AS, but trusted it was time well spent to get comfortable, take care of my feet, and regroup.  Matt said he’d meet me at the half way aid station this time around.  I told him to text my pacer, Cory, to let her know I was ahead of schedule.  I was still doing ok, and happy to have 3 loops in the bank already.

As soon as I left the protection of the AS, out into the rain, I immediately got goose bumps.  So much for not being cold…  Just get moving, I told myself.  I left the campground and headed out onto the trail, it was now a river of muddy water.  Within 2 minutes of leaving the campground I was in ankle deep water.  My heart sank.  I shuffled along – the hills that had felt nonexistent on the first loop had grown, and now taken on the qualities of a greasy slip-n-slide.  I finally got out onto the gravel path, it was pouring out in the open.  I told myself, “You are impervious to the rain.”  I pretended I was seeing the rain in my headlamp as if I was looking at it from behind a window.  “I am impervious to the rain.”  I kept running.  “The faster you run, the sooner you’re done,” I told myself.  I just kept repeating, those 2 mantras.  It was all I could do.  It was so dark.  I tried to look for any light on the horizon.  Any hint that morning might be coming.  Nothing.  It was dark.  It was raining.  I was starting to get cold.  I could feel my attitude sink.  On the gravel road between AS 1 & AS 2, the wind was blowing and I was down right chilly.  I was looking forward to seeing Matt at AS 2.  I tried to keep moving, but my pace was really slowing. 

I got to AS 2, and Matt was there.  I refilled my pack, and together we walked in the pouring rain up the two-track to the car parked on the paved road. 

The car.  The warm, dry car.  Raleigh, curled up in his crate sleeping. Oh, how wonderful it all seemed.  I stood under the hatch out of the rain, while I changed into a dry smartwool shirt and my raincoat.  I tried to eat a bit more, too.  I had to keep moving.  If I finished 4 loops, I could be a 100k finisher.  I’d be ok with that, I thought.  I pressed on.

Matt had charged my IPod and I turned it on, the music helped.  I was warm and dry under my jacket.  I was moving.  But the trail was a mess - a river of muddy water in some places, and a greasy slip-n-slide in others.  I just wanted to be done.  I knew Cory would be waiting for me at the end of this loop.  But I still had 2 more loops to go.  As I struggled through those last 8 miles on loop 4, I had no idea how I would finish 2 more loops. 

I walked into the start/finish area after 4 loops looking for Cory & Matt.  I didn’t see them, so headed into the tent to change my shoes.  I had to get these wet shoes & socks off.  I tried to keep an eye out for them, but from inside the tent, it’s hard to see.  I cleaned myself up, still wondering where they were.  I worked on not bursting into tears.  I still didn’t know how I’d do 2 more loops.  The trail was in terrible shape.  So muddy.  So slippery.  I was tired of being soaked to the bone.  After 15 minutes, I had new shoes and socks on and headed out.  There they were, looking down the trail for me.  I called to them and tried not to cry.  I had given Matt my phone earlier, so it wouldn’t get wet from the rain, so I had no way to tell them I was there.  My attitude continued to sink.

Cory, was so excited to be there, and that helped.  Other than 1 time earlier this summer, we hadn’t seen each other in nearly 17 years.  We did have a lot to catch up on.  So we headed down the trail.  We chatted, and kept moving.  I tried not to worry about how I was going to do yet another loop.  At 8.8 miles, Matt & Annemarie were there.  What a sight for sore eyes!! The 4 of us hiked down the two-track road, and then Cory & I were on our own again.  My energy level was on a roller coaster.  Up and down.  Up and down.  As we got closer to the end of the loop, my attitude got lower and lower; how was I going to do another loop? How?? I started to cry.  I just wanted to be done. 

I shuffled into the start/finish area with tears in my eyes.  The volunteer who had been there on every loop looked at me and asked me what loop I was on.  I said, “5” and he asked if I was going to go on.  Somehow I nodded my head yes.  He refilled my pack and I stumbled back to my drop bag to change my shoes yet again.  Annemarie & Cory helped get me cleaned up while I ate a hard boiled egg.  Thank god, Annemarie had hard-boiled eggs.  Seriously, who would have guessed? But all I wanted was protein.  I was sick of sugary gels, and bars.  I knew if I was going to even attempt loop 6, I needed food. As my two amazing pacers cleaned up my feet, I ate and slowly started to feel better.  At some point, the rain had stopped, so that was helpful, but the trail was still a mess.

Annemarie and I headed out.  The early section of the trail was actually in much better shape than it had been earlier.  We chatted, and moved forward as best as we could.  There were still places that were very slippery, and just trying to stay upright was hard.  I’ll be honest; this last loop was sheer determination.  I don’t remember much about it.  Annemarie kept me entertained and moving.  I wanted to be done and I had to cover the distance to make that happen.  So with sheer will, I pressed on.  I had no idea how long it was taking, and in the big picture it didn’t matter.  I just needed to finish. 

What I did notice though, was that the people I thought were in front of me, when I was headed in on my last loop, were headed out.  Maybe I was farther ahead of the pack than I had initially thought.  That charged my internal competitive spirit a little bit.  I marched on toward the finish.  That finish line finally came into sight and I shuffled across the timing mats.  I was so glad to be done.  I collected my finisher’s goodies – a straw hat, medal, belt buckle, sunglasses and age group award (2nd place) VW bug.   It was quite the haul!

My crew found me a chair to sit in and got my muddy shoes and socks off.  Shockingly, I finished without a single blister.  The chaffing from my shirt, shorts, bra and pack however, were a totally different story after being wet for nearly 26 hours.  My official finisher’s time was 25 hours and 56 minutes. 

Finisher's goodies!

Final thoughts – ultra distance running, while advertised as a solo endeavor, is most definitely not.  Thank you to my AMAZING husband, Matt; and my two fabulous friends, Cory and Annemarie.  Without you, I would not have finished 100 miles. 

I have no interest in doing this particular event again, for a number of reasons, which if you’re curious about, I’ll share with you individually.  There’s a ton of events out there, and some connect with you and others don’t.  While this was a nicely organized event, I just didn’t love it. 

Next up is TwinCities Marathon on Oct. 9.  That will be event number 40 in my 40 by 40 quest - my goal for this year was to finish 40 events of a marathon distance or beyond before my 40th birthday.

And if you've made it this far, thanks for reading!!!