Race report: Icebox 480 2013

An 8 hour race. Because, why not?

This summer, I started seeing posts about a new late-season race, the Icebox 480. As in 480 minutes (8 hours). A timed trail race just across the border in River Falls, Wisconsin. 10K singletrack mountain bike loop (maintained by the Kinnickinnic Off-Road Cyclists, thanks for the awesome trail, KORC!), do it as many times as you can/want to. Since the race director is a local, the format sounded fun, and the timing was good, at the end of the season, lots of my friends were signing up. And hey, it was 3 weeks after Wild Duluth, which sounded like a great period of time to recover from a 50K, then turn around and do another one. I signed up.

A partner in crime

I invited my number one running partner-in-crime, my mother, to join me. "It's a timed race!" I said. "You can run as little or as much as you want to. It'll be fun!" It was a serious invitation, but not one I expected her to take up. After all, she lives in Vermont, had only done two trail races, ever, and her longest run since July (when we did the Old Port Half Marathon) was 8 miles. Though she did clean my clock when we ran together at the beach in August.

A glorious day in Portland, Maine.

Heading out for a run on the Outer Banks of North Carolina

So I was surprised, but thrilled, when she wanted to come out for the race. Plane tickets weren't too expensive, and we planned a weekend of trail running and grandchildren-visiting for her.

Goals! Goals?

The unusual race format engendered a lot of discussion online before the race. There's a local 24-hour race here (the FANS 24 hour), but I think few people who signed up had done a timed race before. I certainly hadn't -- though race reports from various other run bloggers had intrigued me with the idea. A number of people planned to make it their first 50K, and a few just said, "I want to go the whole 8 hours."

(As an aside, this was one place that I was at an advantage as a slow runner. Both of my previous 50Ks (Superior and Wild Duluth) took 8 hours! So I went in knowing (a) I can definitely go for 8 hours, and (b) I can do 50K on difficult terrain in 8 hours. I may not be fast, but mentally I was 100% ready to go 8 hours.)

I didn't have big goals for this race. Wild Duluth had been so great, and I'd recovered so well, that I really didn't feel like I needed to prove anything in this race -- it was truly a fun run.  My "A" goal was to get 50K, maybe a little more. My "B" goal was to have a great time with friends in the woods. My plan was to run with Mom for a loop or two, and then see how things went. Since the terrain was pretty moderate (very runnable trail, and elevation gain/loss per loop of only about 250 feet), I figured that I wouldn't have much trouble getting to 50K. I could average of an hour and a half per 10K loop and still have 30 minutes left over.

Mom's goals were just as loose as mine. She planned to run two laps (20K), then maybe take a rest, then walk and/or run another loop, and then see how she felt. We packed extra clothes, in case she spent a lot of time standing around at the finish line.

Pre-race

The race organizers promised standard aid-station fare, but we amassed a huge pile of running snacks anyway. I've had good experiences this season eating a combination of Picky Bars, Larabars, Shot Bloks, and Gu and Roctane gels, so we packed enough of them to probably feed everyone there. Along with extra Nuun, a thermos of tea, and a massive thermos of chicken broth. You never know what'll sound good after 6 or 7 hours!

Gloves? Check. Handheld? Check. Massive stockpile of race-day nutrition? CHECK.

The forecast looked perfect for a day of running in the woods: temperatures in the 40s, no rain. There was a pretty stiff wind that picked up as the day went on, or at least felt like it, but it was possible to dress for the conditions, whether you were running, walking, or standing around.

The start/finish was only a 35 minute drive from Minneapolis. We set the alarm for 4:30 to make time for a pre-race breakfast. PB&J for Mom -- since we had neither peanut butter, jelly, bread, or a toaster, this one required a little advance shopping -- and my usual two-egg omelet with kale, rice and jalapeno peppers and steamed green beans on the side. And, of course, coffee for everyone.

Breakfast!

We headed out the door by 6, and reached the race start with 40 minutes to spare before the 7:30 start. The sun was just coming up and the race organizers had already built a roaring bonfire in a metal drum. It was fun to see lots of local trail racing friends there, and to introduce my mother to them. We picked up our packets (which included a pretty cool cotton/poly T-shirt, a nice Salomon track bag, and Hammer gels) and set up our drop bags.

WOOOOO! (Uh, too much caffeine?)

Team Run Like A Moose represent!
Mom, my sister and I made these custom
race shirts for our first marathon.

(As an aside, there were some pretty nice setups among the drop bags. Clear plastic bins, which looked like a great idea, were common. One guy even brought a small folding table and set things on it! We just had a couple of old backpacks stuffed with spare clothes and race nutrition.)

Keeping warm at the bonfire.
Icebox 240 is the mountain bike race that happened that night.

Pre-race briefing and words of encouragement.

Just before the 7:30 start, the race director made a few last pre-race comments (including announcing that the directors would stop letting people start the 10K loop after the 6:30 mark, and would open the 1K loop around the 7 hour mark). Three, two, one, GO! And we're off, led by a guy riding a fatbike and wearing a red union suit. (I think ALL races should start this way.)

Race start, as viewed from the back of the pack.
The trail and aid station/start/finish were up there in the woods.

Loop 1

Mom and I took off at the back of the pack. As the 110-or-so runners funnelled down onto a singletrack trail, we slowed to a walk briefly. But by 1/4 mile in, we were running, and had no problems with crowding at any point after that.

The trail was 99% singletrack (there were a few areas where it widened out to a minimally maintained gravel road), and went through young growth woods, wound up over a ridge, and skirted a few cornfields, now bare and stubbled. In a few places, it crossed wooden bridges, banked surfaces, and rocks for the mountain bikers to play on, but for the most part it was smoother and more runnable than the singletrack trails at Theodore Wirth, where I do a fair bit of training. It was fun to see the dire "SLOW DOWN" warning signs at the tops of hills (for bikers, not runners), and the trail names, painted on posts, in the woods. There were very few non-Iceboxers on the trail during the race, just a few hikers, and no bikes.

Much of the trail was variations of this...

... with some stubbly cornfields for variety.

We ran along at an easy pace, talking and walk-running. The crowd thinned out pretty quickly, though from time to time a runner would pass us, or we would pass someone. The trail looped around so that we could often see other runners on other parts of it, and cheer them on. It was uncrowded without ever feeling isolated or lonely for long.

At the midpoint the trail crossed the ridge and there were high winds along some sections, but as long as you were running it was warm enough. I was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, armwarmers, and gloves, and that was about right for the whole race. At mile 4 or so, there was an unmanned water and Heed stop. Then a series of descents and climbs before returning to the start/finish.

We did loop 1 in about 1:33, and felt great. Quick bathroom stop and grab some more food from the drop bags. The aid station volunteers were awesome, filling water bottles, asking what we needed, and then yelling, "You look great! Now keep going!" So we did.

Goofy loop 1 selfie? Check!

Loop 2
I led the way on loop 2 instead of Mom, and pushed the pace a little more -- loop 1 had left me feeling great. She was running really well, and we got to near the halfway mark, talking with other runners as we went. It was fun to meet Byron, who had come all the way from North Dakota for the race and wanted to go for 50K.

At about the halfway mark (maybe not coincidentally, just past the longest distance she'd run for a while), Mom encouraged me to go ahead. Her hips were beginning to bother her, she said, and she wanted to slow down, but wanted me to get my 50K. We debated it for a half mile or so, but eventually I was convinced. After a hug and some encouraging words, I went ahead. It felt good to be going my own pace, and everything felt great. I continued to eat, aiming for 300 calories per loop (about 200 per hour), and finished loop 2 in about 1:30.

Coming down the homestretch, I head a loud machine noise. There was a guy walking up the trail toward me with a leaf blower! On a windy day in late fall. "You're fighting a losing battle!" I told him. "It only has to last till tonight," he said. There was a mountain bike race scheduled to start at 5:30 that evening on the same trails. In the dark. Sounded a little wild, but fun!

Two laps down!

Loop 3
Another quick stop in the porta-john, another snack re-load and a handful of pretzels at the aid station, and I was off again. Now that I was running alone, and still feeling good, I took it a little faster. I started passing people, sometimes singles, and a few pairs or groups. At one point, just after the second cornfield, I passed a group of about four women. The one at the back yelled to her friends, "Fast woman runner coming through!" I laughed a lot at that -- I was probably knocking down blazing 12 minute miles at the time -- but thanked them and went right on. In fact, I passed a fair number of people who I didn't see again for the rest of the race.

My friend Todd was in the woods taking pictures on this loop. He'd run two loops and was now doing a third, with camera in hand. "But," he told me, "I'm doing it backwards." I said, "You know what that means?" "Yes!" he said, "I've already explained to the loop counters that they have to subtract one now!"

Fierce! Credit: Todd Rowe

About 2 miles from the end of the loop I overtook my friend Janet. Like me, she had recently discovered and fallen in love with trail running. Until very recently, she'd never run much farther than a half marathon, but in September, she'd had a stupendous day at the Chester Woods "50K or Whatever" race, planning to run "whatever" (20 miles) and ending up with 50K. She was determined to go 50K at Icebox. The problem was, that today wasn't giving her the same trail magic as Chester Woods. Whether it was the weather, the terrain, the fatigue from the end of an amazing racing season, she was hurting, and was having a tough time.

I slowed down to a jog, then a walk, and set out to troubleshoot with her. "How's your nutrition?" I asked. She'd been eating PB&J sandwiches and drinking Heed. Okay, might need some more calories. "How's your hydration and electrolytes?" Well, she'd been peeing every hour or two, and was drinking Heed. "What's hurting?" Her knee. Did it help to stop and stretch it? Well, maybe so. We walked, then jogged, making it back to the start/finish in slightly better style.

Mom wasn't there, to my surprise. It turned out she had gone out for a third, walking loop. I didn't her till the end of loop 4.

At the start/finish, I was excited to see the aid station had broken out the good stuff: chicken noodle soup and potatoes with salt! I think I may have yelled "I LOVE YOU!" at an unsuspecting aid station volunteer. Janet got a good sized snack, some S-caps and did some stretching, I checked in with her. "Do you want to try another loop? I'll pace you." Yes, she wanted that 50K! Well, we'll give it a shot.

Whoa, that's a goofy picture. ON TO LOOP 4!

Loop 4

Off we went again. I'd enjoyed running most of loop 3 solo, but it was fun in a different sort of way to have someone to talk to. I had been following 4 minutes run - 1 minute walk intervals the whole time and we continued doing that, additionally walking up hills. (What qualified as a "hill" definitely changed with successive loops!). My watch would beep: "Walk beep!". A minute later, "Run beep!" "I HATE the run beep!" Janet told me. We'd slow to a walk, to go up a hill. At the top: "Let's start running again. There's only 30 more seconds till the walk beep." And what became my refrain: "You can do ANYTHING for 30 seconds!"

We walked and ran through the loop, making pretty good time. Janet was running pretty strongly now. Her form was good and she very graciously put up with my chatter as I ran right behind her. I just turned the volume up on my interior running monologue and we talked about whatever came to mind -- stories about running, stories about not running. We stopped when we needed to for her to stretch, and she dug deep and kept going.

Todd was still out and got this picture of us:

Getting it done. Credit: Todd Rowe

It pretty much sums up the day: I was still having a great time, and Janet was pushing through with incredible grit and determination.

By now, we knew the trail pretty well and could talk about upcoming features, parts we liked and parts we particularly disliked. It felt like we had been running this trail for a long time. We HAD been running it for a long time!

We pulled into the start/finish at about the 6:10 mark. I would guess we did loop 4 in about 1:30.

Mom was at the aid station, having knocked down an impressive 18.6 miles, between running and walking. Pretty awesome, given her training! She'd also taken a couple falls on the trail and had a really impressive split lip (but didn't want me to save the pictures of it I took). She was bonding with running spouses (and runners who were finished), eating aid station cookies, and enjoying the bonfire. I gave her the rundown on my pacing plan and she immediately focused on Janet (they'd run together this summer), telling her, "You can stop if you want to. Robyn won't tell you that [Hey! I did so!], but you can. And if you're injured, you should."

3 loops for Mom! Badass.

Janet got some food, made a phone call, stretched, and (I hope) considered stopping. And decided that no, she could do another loop. And still wanted to. I ate salty potatoes and restocked my handheld one last time. Once she'd decided to go, we hurried a little to get out on the trail before the 10K course closed down. We headed back out right around the 6:20 mark.

4 loops done. This is very serious.

Loop 5

Beep. "That's the run beep!" "Already?!" "Yeah, I think these minutes are getting shorter. But hey, this is the last time we're running this section of trail!"

"This is hard." "I know. Some races are hard. Some are magic. But you're proving that you can handle the hard ones AND the magic ones. That 50K at Chester Woods wasn't a fluke."

Beep. "Walk beep!" "Let's just keep running."

"This is loop 5, right? Right?!"

"How much time do we have left? My Garmin died." "We have more than 40 minutes. There's 2.2 miles left." "So, that's... uh..." "That's enough time. We're good."

"What do you mean, they already took down the water station?! ARGH!"

"How much time now?" "We have 25 minutes to go 1.2 miles. We're killing it."

"Hey, when we get to the finish, we'll probably have 5 to 7 extra minutes. Want to get some extra miles on the 1K loop?" "Are you kidding?" "Oh, yes."

"That's the finish line! It's right there! We did it."

At the finish line with Mom!

We did it

We did it. We ran through the finish line at about 7:55 (hey, unofficial 50K PR!). The loop counting volunteers were all counting people on the 1K loop, so we gimped over to them (my left knee was achy in the last 3 miles) and demanded they record our fifth loop. Then, back to the growing crowd of finished runners, friends, and family.

The finish line atmosphere was celebratory. People getting in a last 1K loop were speeding up in the last 5 minutes to get in as many miles as possible. People who were done cheered them on. Kids ran around, hopped up on aid station M&Ms and the 480 chocolate chip cookies a local bakery donated. All the runners I talked to were happy: Amy, Jon, and others got their first ultra distance, Joel and Eli set a new distance PR for Eli, Arika and Todd got some fun loops through the woods... and everyone seemed to have had a great day.

We stood around talking for a while, but it was getting cold as the sun set. The mountain bikers were showing up for their race. It looked to be cold, and dark, and windy. We bundled up, got in the car, and cranked up the heat.

It was a quick drive back to Minneapolis, and although it was only 4:30, we were ready for some serious dinner. Luckily, Brasa was open, had a table (only one! place was packed!), and was ready to serve us stupendous food. It turns out that rotisserie chicken, barbecue brisket, plantains, and yams with andouille sausage is the perfect post-race meal. Who knew?

We were home by 6:30 and managed to stay awake for an entire 2 hours before collapsing. It was a great day.

Final thoughts

I really liked this race. I think the format, combined with its timing at the end of the fall racing season, is ideal for a laid-back race you can do with friends. Because everyone finishes at the same time, there's an opportunity to see everyone, compare notes, and talk about the day, even if you don't see them on the trail. The volunteers were excellent, whether they were counting laps, slinging soup and aid station goodies, or just encouraging runners and troubleshooting problems. The race was well organized and supported, and it was fun and exciting to see people speed up at the end and see how much they had left on the 1K loop.

This one's going on my "must do" list for next year. Thanks, Icebox 480 directors and volunteers! It was a great late fall day in the woods!

Note: Here are a few other Icebox race reports, with better pictures of the trails and more stories!
http://nolongernakedrunning.com/2013/11/10/icebox-480-race-report/
http://journeytothetrails.wordpress.com/2013/11/14/double-edged-sword-the-icebox-480/

Race report: Wild Duluth 50K 2013

I had a great time running the Wild Duluth 50K this last Saturday. This is a friendly, old-school trail race with options for 100K (the final event in the 5-race Gnarly Bandit Ultra Series -- incredibly, 8 people completed it this year), 50K, and half marathon distances.

I had decided not to run the TC Marathon two weeks ago, reasoning that with spotty training, I could probably do it or Wild Duluth, but probably not both. And I wanted to do Wild Duluth. So on marathon weekend, I opted instead for a solid 6 hour, 24 or 25 mile run at Afton, then 5.5 miles the next morning, just as the TC 10 Mile was starting. Looking at my training schedule over the summer, I think this was the right choice: I had gotten in a number of good long trail runs, but nothing on roads longer than 11 miles since July. Hard to imagine that 26.2 road miles would be a Good Idea.

Wild Duluth 50K is a point-to-point race, starting this year at the UMD outpost (previously started at Jay Cooke State Park, but last year's massive floods washed away road access and trails) and ending in the heart of Duluth, at Bayfront Park. The 100K is an out-and-back, starting and finishing at Bayfront Park.

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There's a total of 3400 ft of climbing and 3800 of descending on the 50K course -- much less than at the Spring Superior or Afton 50K courses, but finish times are generally 45-60 min longer. The reason seems to be the character of the trail -- lots of big blocky rocks and a fair bit of steep rocky climbing and descending makes the trail less "runnable", especially from miles 11-22.

My Superior finish time was 8:00:18. My "A" goal for this race was sub-8 hours, my "B" goal was sub-9, my "C" goal was to run happy and feel good.

I was up at 3:45 to drive to Duluth, and drove through spotty rain showers and a little bit of sleet coming into town. I felt bad for the 100Kers, who had started by now and were experiencing semi-frozen rain in the dark while climbing rocky trails. After a brief panicky driving-around-the-harbor interval, I found the buses just in time and scrambled aboard, forgetting my gaiters but managing to grab my other essentials -- hat, gloves, socks, hydration pack, camera.

By the time we reached the start/100K turnaround, the sun was reluctantly coming up and the rain had mostly stopped. It was about 35 degrees, but not much wind. I knew I'd warm up once I got going.

Keeping warm before the start

112 runners started the 50K, and 110 finished. Not bad!

 There was a short race briefing from the director (follow the orange flags, follow the Superior Hiking Trail blue blazes, if they disagree, stay on the SHT), a countdown, and a few minutes after 8 am, we were off!

The very first section followed a rocky trail along the Saint Louis River gorge. Beautiful! The roar of the water was loud and the woods smelled damp and fertile. The trail was narrow (RD had warned us about the bottleneck), but it was okay to hike it and get a feel for the traction on damp rock.

A crowded start, but hey, I'm not going for the course record.

 After just a few tenths of a mile, the trail opened out onto the paved, level Munger Trail, which we followed to Aid Station 1 at 3.5 miles. It was odd to be running on a straight, paved bike trail at the beginning of a trail ultra, but a good chance to meet some of the runners and talk a little before the trail got more demanding.

A beautiful day for a run!

 By the time we reached AS1, I had shed my long-sleeve T-shirt, hat, armwarmers, and gloves, and was down to just my T-shirt and shorts. I would be comfortable in this for the rest of the race, putting my gloves back on a few times when the wind picked up.

The course left Munger trail and headed onto the Superior Hiking Trail.

The trail started wide and well graded, and narrowed to singletrack in a few miles.

 The next 7.5 miles, to AS2, were very runnable and a real pleasure. The sky remained overcast, the trees were just past peak but still full of color, there were giant puffball mushrooms growing in a meadow (GIANT! at least 18" across). I drank water, ate Picky Bars and Larabars, and enjoyed the day.

Near AS2, the first 100K racers came by, moving incredibly steadily and fast. I think there was a new course record set? It was great to see them looking so strong.

AS2 was staffed by the Upper Midwest Trail Runners -- my people -- and they were having a great time. In no time, my water was refilled, my trash disposed of, I had been offered Swiss Cake Rolls ("Don't worry, they're paleo!") and instead taken a hard-boiled egg and some salted potatoes, and I was on my way.

The next leg summited Ely's Peak. Shortly after the aid station, there was a steep, rocky climb, blending at times into a class III/IV scramble. The rain had stopped early in the morning, but the rock was still pretty slippery. The sun began to break through and I was definitely glad I'd gone with shorts instead of tights.

What a view!

 From this point until AS5 at mile 22, the trail was pretty technical -- steep climbs and descents, big bouldery rocks in the trail, beautiful and challenging stuff. I just wound along the trail, following blue blazes, eating Shot Bloks and more Larabars, occasionally talking with other runners but often with the trail to myself. It was a great day to be out.

At mile 17.7, we reached Spirit Mountain, near the start of the half marathon. This was another super friendly and helpful aid station. The volunteers at Wild Duluth were really excellent.

Happy at Spirit Mountain

 Long sections of the trail ran alongside streams and rivers. There were lots of bridged river crossings and lots of boardwalks, which were dangerously slippery. I only fell once, on a slick muddy slope. If you were careful, you might be able to do the whole course without getting your feet wet (though mud was inevitable). I got a little wet and muddy, though. For this race, I was glad I was wearing Peregrines, which have pretty burly traction and are nimble, rather than Hokas.

Lots of rushing water, but all the crossings had good bridges

The segment from Spirit Mountain to AS5, mile 22, was a verrrry long 4.5 miles. I think it took me somewhere between 1:15 and 1:30. Lots of steep climbs and descents, not much runnable trail, I lost the trail once, briefly, but quickly found it again. But at AS5, Lisa, a local runner, told me, "We're through the 'W'. That's the hardest part. It's all runnable from here!"

Sure enough, heading out of the aid station, the trail climbed, but not so steeply, and we were on a ridge overlooking Duluth. The views gradually unfolded. First the lake in the distance:

See the sunbreak? It was turning into an amazing day

... then the edges of the city:

... and the cityscape unfolded far below us. Still about 8 miles to go from here.

I just kept chugging along, eating Gu and more Shot Bloks, salted potatoes when the aid stations had them, and Coke at the last two. My legs were getting tired, especially my going-downhill muscles, but everything still felt just fine. I actually couldn't believe how good I felt.

The last 3 miles of the trail climbs up to the watch tower in Enger Park in Duluth, then descends steeply to finish along sidewalks, across the interstate and the train tracks, at the park. In Enger Park the route goes right past a huge Japanese peace bell hanging in a pavilion. A few kids were ringing it as I passed and it deep resonance went on and on, for a long time. Then I plummeted down the hill into Duluth, and before I knew it I was rounding the corner coming into the finish line.

What a great day!

I was impressed by the fantastic finisher's prize -- a ceramic soup bowl and spoon -- and got a nice long sleeve tech shirt. There was hot chicken wild rice soup, and friendly volunteers serving it. A nice, low-key finish to a very nice race.

My finish time was 8:05:51 -- 82 of 110 finishers. I'm thrilled with this time, and I feel like it's an improvement on my performance at Superior. Which, considering my wonky summer of iron-deficient training, is pretty awesome.

Just as important, I felt really good the whole run, and three days later, I seem to be recovering well from the race. I'm really glad I did Wild Duluth and I think it'll stay on the schedule in the future. It's a rugged, challenging, and beautiful course, and it was well marked and well supported. It was fun to meet many local Duluth area runners, and inspiring to see the 100K runners on the course (including the Gnarly Bandits -- congratulations, you guys!). I came away from the race energized, inspired, and more in love with trail running than ever.

Race report: Babes in Bikeland 7 alleycat bike race

I had a great time riding in the seventh annual Babes in Bikeland alleycat race this Saturday. Last year's Babes was my first experience doing a bike race of any sort, and it was SO FUN. Plus, at $5 for the event (plus $10 for a good T-shirt), it's the best deal on my race calendar, by far. Babes has fantastic volunteers and sponsors, and I want to give them a public shout-out here, because it's a great race and they make it fun. I was looking forward to racing through the Minneapolis streets again.

Babes is an alleycat race specifically for women (and female-identifying people). An alleycat is a race with a set of checkpoints but no set route. At the start, you receive the manifest -- a list of checkpoints throughout the city -- and determine which order you want to hit them, and by which route. Volunteers at the checkpoints may require you to complete a task of some sort before signing your manifest. Once you've been to all the checkpoints (and had your manifest signed -- don't lose the manifest!), on to the finish line, and usually socializing and beer.

Alleycats were started by bike couriers, and reward not only fast riding, but clever route-planning and knowledge of the streets and urban geography. I do okay on these, having biked Minneapolis regularly for two and a half years, but the winners in these events are so much faster and more savvy about route-finding than I am that it's pretty amazing. To give some perspective, I finished this year's event in the top third of finishers, in about 1 hour, 55 minutes. I think my routefinding was pretty efficient and I rode reasonably hard (until the last checkpoint, see below). By contrast, the winning woman did it in an hour and 16 minutes. Smokin'!

The weather was beautiful, crisp, and sunny early in the day, but as the 5 pm start approached, it became increasingly ominous. The Doppler showed a large green-and-yellow rain blob moving eastward over Minnesota. I packed my raincoat and, at the last minute, some armwarmers and a wool buff to wear under my helmet if it got cold. I made sure my lights had fresh batteries, oiled my chain, put air in my tires, and carried my flat-tire kit and pump, just in case.

I registered an hour before the start, got my manifest and some fabulous cold-brew coffee (thanks, Dogwood!),

These very cool ladies served GALLONS of iced coffee. Hooray!

and got to work with my map and a pen, just as light rain started falling. This year there were nine checkpoints, biased toward southwest Minneapolis, with the finish line/afterparty at a sculpture studio in Northeast Minneapolis.

Lots of people this year used iPhones and other electronic mapping devices, but I'm old school. Plus, a map shows you everything, fast. If you know the city streets at all, it's a better choice, I think.

This event draws lots of groups, and everyone was figuring out their routes and plans in the light rain. There were bikes and riders all over the park -- a total of 334 started, and 238 finished before the 3 hour cutoff.

Working out routes.

There were some well-dressed riders! A few had fantastic costumes, too.

Under the trees it was a little drier.

As the clock ticked toward 5 pm, we lined up and got ready to start. 

credit: babesinbikeland.com

I had my map, I had my plan, I had my routes written somewhere handy,

Note to self: Bring a better pen next year

and I was ready to go. After a briefing, including a reminder to ride safely in the rain, we counted down, and we're off!

Start line selfie. It started raining harder at this point, though, and I put on my raincoat. Less INKnBURN exposure, but much much drier.

My route took me up through my neighborhood, then eastward and down along the river to a Mississippi River overlook. Then a long stretch west to Hennepin Avenue, and a northward zigzag, hitting checkpoints all the way up through Uptown and into Loring Park. A sunset ride through downtown on Hennepin and across the Hennepin suspension bridge, a detour to Nicollet Island, and a finish in Northeast. It was a good tour of the city (though not quite as diverse and far-flung as last year's route). I rode about 18.5 miles.

This year's route. I think this was pretty efficient, though maybe not perfect.

Every checkpoint had a task or activity. The first, at Spokes, was to make a set of helmet antennae using pipe cleaners and a metal gear or other bike part. I got to the checkpoint just ahead of a big crowd and threw my antennae together quickly, then raced off to the next stop, a Mississippi River overlook.

Lots of people rode the same initial route as me, and I think almost everyone else did the river stop first then headed to Spokes, because once I hit the West River Road bike path, there was a steady stream of Babes riders going both ways. At the river overlook, we ran a lap along the scenic path while singing our favorite song (I did a very loud version of "The Walloping Window-Blind", which we sing a lot of in the car these days). Jumped back on my bike and headed westward.

It was a long straight shot to the next stop, Calhoun Cycle on Hennepin Ave. The rain picked up and then slowed down a bit, and I got warmer. I saw a few other riders along my route, but not too many -- we were pretty well spread out by then. At Calhoun, there was a camera set up and they took pictures of all the riders. Their photostream is here, and it's worth checking out -- there are some great poses, and great outfits!

I guess I was a little excited. credit: Calhoun Cycle volunteers

Then a northward zigzag, through Twin Town Crossfit (10 push-ups; I pleaded busted elbow and did 10 squats instead), Sunrise Cyclery (ring toss, where you had to throw a bike tire over a traffic cone from about 10 feet out), and up to Lowry Park, where the excellent volunteers had an awesome snack buffet, including homemade gluten-free oat bars that pretty much rocked. Thanks!

The next stop, and the only one that was the same as last year, was Alley Cat Cycles off of Loring Park, a 50% woman- (and 100% awesome people-) owned bike shop, where I got my spoke card (and where, last year, I got a really excellent bike tune-up. They know their stuff!). Then a zoom up Hennepin Ave to Nicollet Island, where I was asked to name my favorite book ("Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy!", I yelled. The woman right behind me said, "Crime and Punishment!" They don't get much more different than that!). Up into Northeast, and the last stop was Behind Bars Bike Shop -- the only checkpoint I'd never been to before that night. They had a big bike box to sign for a friend in the hospital with a bike-crash injury.

At Behind Bars, I glanced at my watch - 6:45. "How many people have come in ahead of me?" I asked the friendly volunteers, who had a tent up, a grill going, a cooler of beers, and looked like they were having a great time. "Probably about 50 or so," one of them told me. "So I'm in no danger of winning or placing?" They agreed that I probably wasn't.

"In that case," I said, "Do you have enough of those brats to share?" They did, and were happy to share a bratwurst. I spent 10 minutes hanging out, eating hot spicy sausage, and watching about 15 or 20 more riders come through the checkpoint. Hey, I was hungry by then! As far as I was concerned, it was time well spent. Thanks, Behind Bars guys!

Back on the bike and a quick ride to the finish line at the Casket Arts Building, where results show I came in 90th of 238 finishers. Sweet! By then it was seriously raining and cooling off. It was close to 7 pm and the daylight was fading fast. I locked my bike up and started looking for food.

The afterparty was good, and would have been great if it hadn't been raining. They had kegs of beer donated by New Belgium, a DJ, snacks and coffee from excellent ladies of the Fox Den Salon, who do a rockin' haircut and volunteer at Babes every year, and a table of donated finishers' prizes. I scored a Sheila Moon bolero jacket -- awesome! Someone started a fire in a metal firepit using a flamethrower -- impressive and maybe even necessary, given the rain.

I was sipping coffee when one of the race organizers walked through looking for a medical professional. Reluctantly, I copped to being a doctor ("But not that kind of doctor!" I hastened to add). One of the riders had crashed, gouged her knee and was a little light headed. The race organizers didn't have any first aid kits or medical staff. Could I help? Well, if it was minor, I could. I grabbed a bottle of water and a granola bar in case the rider hadn't eaten or drunk since finishing the race, and followed her to the bathroom. The rider had a skinned knee, but after cleaning with some warm water and paper towels, it didn't look too bad. She ate and drank and told me she felt okay. I also cleaned up another rider who'd been in a crash, with an impressively skinned knee. With no other injured riders in view, I declared office hours over and rejoined the party.

It rained hard, and lots of us stuck around just long enough for the awards ceremony and drawing for a bike. There were some tents, but not enough cover for everyone, and I was *wet* despite my Goretex jacket and starting to get cold. I decided to declare victory and ride hard for home. Once home, after a quick bath, complete change of clothes, hot tea and a hot meal, I was wiped out. It was a good time, but exhausting!

This race was a lot faster than last year's, and I think rewarded fast riding with less of a premium on clever route-finding.  For last year's Babes, there were nine checkpoints, including one "mystery" checkpoint whose location was announced at another of the checkpoints. I took about 3 hours 20 minutes and rode about 23 miles all told, and finished about the same place I did this year, in the top third.

My Babes 2012 route

This was a really run race, with great volunteer energy and a really friendly vibe. As I said before, it's an absolute steal at $5 and will remain on my race calendar without a doubt. I would suggest the race directors stock a basic first aid kit at the finish line for future races. I liked last year's route, which was a true tour of Minneapolis, though I understand why a shorter route that finishes during daylight could be appealing. Last year's afterparty venue (Peacock Groove's shop in Seward) had the advantages of being indoors and being close to my house (okay, that was only an advantage for me), but if the weather had been good, the Casket Arts site would have been a great place for a party. Oh, and the free massages last year were really, really awesome. My sore deltoids the next morning were letting me know they missed them!

In conclusion, thank you, Babes in Bikeland, for another super fun race! It's so different from everything else I do, and so positive and energetic. I love this race and look forward to riding again next year. Thank you, volunteers and sponsors, for a great event.

Endless Summer Lebanon 7 Mile Race Report (or, Twilight of the Endless Summer)

It's hard to believe, but the Endless Summer is coming to a close.  It's already mid August, and the Minnesota weather in the last two weeks has been distinctly September-ish, with crisp mornings in the 50s and breezy, sunny days in the 70s.

The last installment of the Endless Summer Trail Run Series was last night on my home turf, at Lebanon Hills Regional Park. I started running there in January with some of the Upper Midwest Trail Runners, and have been there at least a couple times a month all this year. After a summer of weeknight races at parks I'd never run (or, usually, even visited), it was time to return to familiar ground.

Even more fun, I got to do it with a friend. I met Stephanie while doing a crazy Internet running challenge last year, the 12athon. Run 12 miles on the 12th of the month. Earn "bonus points" for doing it in a particularly crazy way. (Examples: 12 miles, all uphill. 12 miles, changing your shoes after every mile. Run a 10K race, then at the finish, turn around and run it in the other direction.) The 12athon ended when 2012 did, but it took till earlier this summer to meet up with the other local 12athoner. It was exciting to join her in her first trail race!

Note her stylin' 12athon shirt!

Despite leaving work right at 5, I was foiled by traffic and by the time I reached Lebanon Hills, the parking lot was full. No worries, the race director had arranged for overflow parking and a school bus shuttle at a church a mile or two down the road.

Taken from my car (at a light), crossing my fingers that I wouldn't miss the bus.

A quick bus ride back to the park...

99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer....

... and just enough time to register, hit the restroom, and run into a few friends before the (slightly delayed) race start.

I met this awesomely dressed runner standing in line. Check out her gorgeous INKnBURN!

Mike and Janet were both racing. Janet's doing her first Ragnar this weekend, and Mike is deep in training for the Moose Mountain Marathon.

It was a Sugarskull kind of day. I love racing in my INKnBURN gear!

Everyone's ready to race.

John Storkamp, race director extraordinaire, gave the pre-race briefing from his  traditional stepladder. It seemed quieter than usual before race start. I was dazzled by the late afternoon sunlight and thinking about the last race of summer, and of what a great summer it's been .Maybe everyone else was too.

The Cliff's Notes version: Pick up litter, flags on your left, if you get lost, just come back here and we'll have a push-up contest and then drink some beer.

A quick countdown, and we're off! We'd been warned that the trail rapidly turns to singletrack, and there was, predictably, a bit of a bottleneck for the first quarter-mile:

Don't worry, it thinned out pretty quick.

Pretty soon, though, the crowd thinned out and the trail grew quiet, cool and shady.

Despite its name, I think of Lebanon Hills more as a collection of little lakes with trails (and the occasional hill) weaving between them, and less as a collection of hills. The trails are generally doubletrack width (singletrack in the winter when they're packed by snowshoers), dirt with a few roots and rocks, and pretty non-technical. They tend toward muddy since everything's close to one lake or another. There are a few respectable hills, but nothing steep. Of the four Endless Summer courses, it's probably the flattest and, I suspect, the fastest.

Most of the trail is wooded or lakeside, and much of it looks like this:

Last night, it smelled like moist earth, green growing things, and lake water.

But there are some lake views, and some of them are quietly beautiful.

This tree was moving so fast it was a blur.

Lake, with powerline counterpoint.

 I ran along with Stephanie, at an easy but ground-covering pace. After a while, we had our section of the trail to ourselves, and we jogged along, feeling pretty good, enjoying the trail. Around mile 2 or 3, I paused to take a picture of some amazing neon-orange fungus in the woods...

Nothing says "Don't eat me!" quite like neon orange

 ... when we saw these guys coming up behind us. Really? The sweepers, already?

"That's not a fungus, that's a trail marker. Oh, wait, that IS a fungus."

Wow! I don't think I've ever been DFL before. Luckily, they were a pretty easygoing bunch. They followed us at a respectful distance as we ran and walked into the aid station, at the Jensen Lake trailhead.

The aid station was well stocked, with water, HEED, gels and salt (because why not?), and some fabulous volunteers.

Kathy, speedy ultramarathoner and excellent person

Amy, who BROKE TWO RIBS running at Afton last week, ran another 4 miles, and didn't seek medical attention for another THREE DAYS. What is it with these crazy trail runners?

Bob and the other sweepers caught up with us at the aid station.

Refreshed, we were soon on our way again, running on the section of Lebanon Hills I know best, the loop around the lake. It was cool but not chilly, the shadows were getting long, and the water was still and beautiful. We ran when we could, walked when we had to, and enjoyed the evening.

The alarmingly bouncy and unstable-feeling bridge at the southeastern end of Jensen Lake. The first time I ran over this, last winter, I briefly wondered if it was a trail runner's hazing ritual.

As a side note, I'd been in a bit of a running funk for the last week and a half -- easily fatigued, decreased endurance, a touch of plantar fasciitis. I'd been addressing it with rest, more sleep, dietary changes (more carbs at every meal) and stretching and foam rolling, but hadn't had a really great run in a long time.

Maybe it was the slower pace. Maybe it was the time of day or the weather. Maybe it was just time for things to start getting better. But whatever it was, this run felt GREAT. My heart was full of joy.

Sunset over the lake

 The trail grew more and more dim as the twilight deepened and we approached the last mile. The sweeper crew behind us was chatty and encouraging. Stephanie, despite some shortness of breath and lightheadedness, was keeping up her pace and looking strong. It's tough to keep going on a hard run, and nothing was going to stop her.

We could hear the finish line before we could see it, and it got louder and louder as we rounded the last lake.

Visitor Center, just ahead!

 And there it was. We ran through together in just under 1:45, just ahead of the sweep crew.

I'd never been dead last before. But for a healing, exhilirating, beautiful run like that, it was worth it. And I'll say it again: if I'd realized the sweep crew was having so much fun before, I wouldn't have been running so hard! Thanks, sweep volunteers, for your patience, encouragement, and sense of humor.

It was fun to run with a friend. I think Stephanie had a good first trail race. I hope we can get her back on trails again soon!

Lots of friends cheered us in to the finish and there was still pizza and beer left. It was nearly dark, a reminder that summer's long days are coming to an end. It was a beautiful night. A memorable finish to the last race of the summer.

As the fall racing season begins, with its longer races, I feel like I'm coming into it refreshed. It's been a great summer for running and racing and meeting friends. I know the fall will bring new delights and surprises. I'll miss summer, but I can't wait.