Zumbro 50: Going big, taking chances

So, um, a couple of weeks ago, this happened:

Yikes?

Zumbro has been on my mind a lot this winter. It's a mid-April trail race held at the Zumbro River Bottoms on 17 miles of trail that climb and descend the river bluffs and wind through the woods and stream beds of southeast Minnesota. There's a 17 mile (where I broke my elbow last year), a 50 mile (3 loops, midnight start), and a 100 mile (6 loops). It's a Rocksteady Running event, so it's well organized, well supported, and has great volunteers.

My plan for the spring was to do the 17 mile again, a half marathon with my mother two weeks later, then the Spring Superior 50K. Very reasonable buildup to a 50K, and that way I could volunteer during the first day of the Zumbro 100. If all went well, I'd do Voyageur 50 mile this summer, or the Fall Superior 50. Plenty of time to build and train.

But there was a problem. I felt a little too good after Wild Duluth last fall. Then, my long runs this winter felt really good. Great, really. And I started to feel like... I could do more?

A great snowy Saturday run!

Maybe I could pace a 100-miler. Two loops on the course would be just about perfect! I brought it up on the Upper Midwest Trail Runners Facebook page.

The response, especially once I mentioned the 50 miler, was (in hindsight) entirely predictable:

Thanks, guys. Thanks a lot.

I tried to be reasonable. My trail-running friends were not impressed.

If all your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you?

Peer pressure wasn't going to sign me up for my first 50 miler... but it did start me thinking about it again. Could I train for the 50?

I looked over a lot of 50 mile training plans... again. (I had found them all immediately after Wild Duluth, you see). I quizzed friends who have run 50 milers and asked my fellow Manic Runday-ers and INKnBURN amabassadors about their training secrets. And decided to start running a little longer on my weekends... just in case.

My long runs kept going well. The Frozen River Run went well. Lifting was going well. I was consistently running longer and better than I ever had. Last weekend, I ran over 6 hours on Saturday, then another 2 the next day... and aside from some knee pain in the last mile and a half on Sunday, I couldn't believe how good I felt.

Look at all those crazy people. Love running with this group.

Eventually, I decided to trust in what my ultrafriends have told me: although running 50K, or 50 miles, or 100 miles, requires strong legs and core and lungs and heart... it mostly requires a strong mind. And that if I head into this race determined to finish no matter what happens, I will finish it.

Who knew that filling out a form on the computer and clicking "submit" was an act of courage? It was for me. I hope to go into this with curiosity, excitement, and acceptance that unexpected things will happen along the way. I hope to see and hear and feel and learn something new. I think something happens to your mind when you run long, something that changes you. I think this will change me. I can't wait to see how it all works out.

Whole30, days 7-11: Running update and roasted broccoli recipe

On day 11 of the Whole30 now, things are going along pretty well. I think we were eating pretty similarly to this before starting, so the adjustment hasn't been radical. I haven't noticed big differences in a lot of things yet (although I am starting to get some pretty cut looking abs, probably a combination of diet and regular core workouts). I am continuing to want/need an afternoon snack, and although the Whole9 principles don't favor snacking, I think that may just be how I function. I'm full at lunch, I'm hungry at 4 pm, and if I wait till dinner at 5:30 or 6 I'm starving. I'll blame it on running and go with it.

Previous January Whole30 posts:
January Whole30 and Veggie-Ful Omelet
Morning drill: Breakfast and lunch
Week 1 wrap-up and Paleo Diner Hash

It's been a weird couple of weeks for running. Last Monday (Jan 6) it was -21F with -45 windchills, so I ran on the treadmill at the Y for the first time in at least 6 months... and tweaked my left hamstring. Stupid treadmill. Water running the next day may not have done it any favors; it was still a little achy last Thursday so I rested it and did yoga instead. By Saturday, though, I had an amazing 3 hour run at Lebanon Hills.

This week, the tweaky spot seems to have migrated a bit higher, and I'm continuing to be cautious. I bailed on my Tuesday run (did spin classes instead) and by yesterday it seemed better. This morning conditions were so perfect (35 degrees, 1/2 inch new snow, no wind till later in the morning) that I decided I needed an outdoor run in shorts. I did a super easy 5.4 miles with minimal pain, though things are still not 100% normal feeling.

A big goal for this year is to not do stupid stuff in training. I'm trying really hard not to be stupid. But running in the snow by headlamp, when it's not too cold, is such a magical experience... it's hard to convince myself that I shouldn't be out there!

However, I have my incentive to train smart: I just signed up for the Spring Superior 50K trail race! Can't wait to get back on the Superior Hiking Trail in May. This is such a beautiful, well supported, challenging, fun race.

Here's my most recent Whole30 recap and recipe:

Saturday (day 6), continued:
Dinner: Roasted chicken (olive oil, salt, pepper), roasted broccoli, pumpkin with smoked paprika.
Before bed: 1/3 c blueberries with a little coconut milk and a sprinkle of sliced almonds. Luxury!

Very Simple Roasted Broccoli (serves 2-4):

2 medium to large heads broccoli, cut into bite-sized florets (the stems are good too, but peel them first)
2-3 Tbsp ghee, lard, or coconut oil (olive oil would probably also be fine)
salt and pepper
1/2 lemon

Preheat oven to 450F.
Arrange the broccoli on 1-2 baking sheets or 9 x 13 baking pans, in a single layer. Put the cooking fat in among the broccoli in small spoonfuls. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Bake for a total of about 30 min, stirring every 10 min or so (the cooking fat melts and the first stir mixes it in with the broccoli). Bake until the broccoli is wilted and starting to brown a bit.
Remove from the oven and squeeze the lemon over the broccoli. Enjoy!

This was great. Should have made more!

Sunday (day 7):
Breakfast: Omelet with 3 eggs, kale, and jalapeno peppers, cooked in ghee. Spaghetti squash (I ran out of pumpkin!) with ghee. Black coffee.
Post-workout: Small baked sweet potato, several bits of tuna salad, coffee with a little coconut milk and a spoonful of unsweetened cocoa powder. (It was a little over the top, but nice after a long run)
Mid-morning snack at church: 3 dates.
Lunch: "Curry in a hurry": Chicken breast and broccoli sauteed in coconut oil, with Thai red curry paste, coconut milk and a dash of fish sauce. Eaten over spaghetti squash. Nice.
Dinner: Chocolate chili from Well Fed, over steamed cauliflower, with avocados. This was a very good version of, basically, Cincinnati chili. Would probably be good served paleo-Cincy-style -- I 'm imagining putting it on spaghetti squash and then covering it with chopped onions, avocado (instead of cheese), and chopped tomato (instead of kidney beans)? Anyway, good recipe. Try it!

Saute the onions in coconut oil, then add garlic.

Mix up the spices and cocoa.

Cook the meat, then add in the spices.

Add tomato paste, tomatoes, water, and stock. Simmer uncovered for at least 2 hours.

Meanwhile, steam some cauliflower (I made a whole smallish head for two people)

This was pretty awesome.

Monday (day 8):
Breakfast: Omelet with 3 eggs, kale, and jalapeno peppers, cooked in ghee. Spaghetti squash. Black coffee.
Post-workout: Small baked sweet potato, a few spoonfuls of almond butter, almonds, black coffee.


Mid-morning snack: Apple, almonds.
Lunch: Leftover pork stew (still so good!), salad with lettuce, roasted yellow pepper, roasted eggplant, 1/2 avocado, sprouts, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. Almonds.
Afternoon snack: Raisins, almonds
Dinner: Leftover chocolate chili over a baked sweet potato, with 1/2 avocado on top. This was even better than yesterday! The flavors really married nicely in the fridge.
After dinner: A raw carrot with a little bit of freshly made paleo mayo. I made it with macadamia nut oil this time -- expensive ($1/ounce!) but really nice flavor. I also had a few bites of the tuna salad I was making.

Tuesday (day 9):
Breakfast: Omelet with 3 eggs, kale, and jalapeno peppers, cooked in ghee. Spaghetti squash. Black coffee.

Mid-morning snack: Banana, 1/2 baked sweet potato, almonds, black coffee.

Lunch: New tuna salad (tuna in olive oil, paleo mayo, celery, apple, almonds, raisins, curry powder) with frozen green beans and roasted yellow pepper. Salad with lettuce, roasted yellow pepper, roasted eggplant, 1/2 avocado, sprouts, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. Almonds.
Afternoon snack: 1/2 sweet potato, almonds.
Dinner: More leftover chocolate chili, this time on spaghetti squash with 1/2 an avocado. Yum! I was still hungry, so then had a salad (lettuce, Trader Joe's Tuscan Vinaigrette), then an egg cooked with sprouts and eaten with Mean Green Hot Sauce.

Wednesday (day 10):

Breakfast: Omelet with 3 eggs, kale, and jalapeno peppers, cooked in ghee. Spaghetti squash. Black coffee.

Post-workout: Baked sweet potato, apple, almonds, black coffee.

Lunch: Seward Cafe! 3 egg omelet with kale, tomato and mushroom, with tahini and green salsa (jalapenos + onions + vinegar). Side of broccoli with a little nutritional yeast. Coffee.

Afternoon snack: Salad with lettuce, roasted yellow pepper, 1/2 avocado, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. 

Dinner: Five Guys with the kids. Bunless burger (in a bowl) with lettuce, tomato, pickles, grilled mushrooms and onions, jalapenos, and mustard. About six fries. Delicious. Some almonds and pistachios afterwards.

Thursday (day 11):

Breakfast: Omelet with 3 eggs, kale, and jalapeno peppers, cooked in ghee. Spaghetti squash. Black coffee.
Post-workout: 1/2 sweet potato, almonds, black coffee.

Lunch: Tuna salad with frozen green beans and roasted yellow pepper. Salad with lettuce, roasted yellow pepper, roasted eggplant, 1/2 avocado, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. Almonds.

Deep thoughts at the end of the running year

It's been a good year for running. There's been elation, disaster, recovery, comedy, self-discovery, friendship, a little of everything. It was the first year I ran trails in a serious way, the first year I did an ultra, the first year I ran socially. I'm still enjoying an "off season", though I am looking ahead to January, when I'll start gearing up the long runs again. In the meantime, I've been reflecting a little on things I learned this year. In no particular order, a few insights:

1. I can do this. At the beginning of the year, my major goal was to train for and run a 50K trail race. Spring Superior 50K, in May, was a huge achievement for me. As the year evolved, other plans came up: recover from my broken elbow, run with friends on trails, volunteer, run in beautiful places. I recovered from iron deficiency anemia and trained for and ran two more 50K races, Wild Duluth and Icebox 480. At the end of the year, I can say that I can run 50Ks. And that's not something I knew a year ago.

Spring Superior!

Wild Duluth!

Icebox 480! I swear I actually own more than one shirt.

2. I am a lazy runner. I can run all day. No, literally, all day (or at least, 8 hours). Hey, all you need to do that is time (and Larabars). But running fast? Hoo boy, that hurts. I did no speedwork this year -- basically, it was all endurance mode, all the time. I know I've got another gear and that I can go faster (heck, I did it last week on the track), but I've got to overcome my natural inclination to keep it easy all the time.

Endless Summer Murphy 10K with Amy.
Ran this one as hard as I could in the heat.

3. There are things I'm good at. On trails, I get passed going up hills, but pass lots of people on the descents. Somewhere along the way, I actually figured out something about descents! Even if I'm not going fast, I can keep moving for a long time. I've figured out how and what to eat and drink, most of the time. And I have a very high pain threshold (but am finally figuring out the difference between pain I should run through, and pain that should make me stop).

Zumbro 17 mile. Broke my right elbow at mile 2.

You don't want this kind of race bling.

4. Running long on trails = no overuse injuries! Looking back at my training logs from the last few years, I noted when I was having pain. Achilles tendon, plantar fascia, posterior knee tendon, hamstring -- they've all been a little "tweaky" at one time or another. I'd rest, maybe ice, do water running, and if all else failed go see my excellent ART guy. Looking back at this year, though, the last time I saw him was way back in May! He fixed some early PF a few days before Spring Superior. Since then -- and, not coincidentally, since I started doing long runs exclusively on trail -- I've had a few minor ouches and tweaks here and there, but nothing that kept me away from running for more than a couple of days.

I'm pretty sure other things have helped too. I started paying serious attention to my core and posterior chain (calves, hamstrings, glutes) last fall when I began doing kettlebell classes at the YWCA. I started doing a lot more yoga around the same time. I keep a foam roller in my office as well as one at home, and I use them. A lot. The added strength and flexibility are making a big difference in my injury-free running.

Courtyard yoga!

... and some box jumps for fun.

5. The races will still be there next year. I signed up for the TC Marathon this year. Sort of trained for it, but iron deficiency anemia really sidetracked my late-summer running. Despite the fact that I was heading into race week with my last long road run two months previous (and only 11 miles, and it damn near killed me), it was still a major internal struggle to decide not to run it. Heather over at relentlessforwardcommotion has talked about FOMO, or fear of missing out, as an impetus to do things you shouldn't/wouldn't/aren't ready for. Her essay on it came at just the right time, and I kept reminding myself: The race will still be there next year.

I had a little FOMO over the last few weeks, as Frontrunner Sports did their Black Friday discounted entries into the Chippewa 50K and I didn't sign up, and then worse the other weekend when registration for the Ice Age 50 Mile filled in just a couple of hours. Spring is not a good time for me to train for a 50 miler, but still, it was hard to let the idea go. I just have to remember, I've only been doing this a year. There are years and years of great races ahead of me. Deep breaths.

Deena did the TC Marathon (her first) and killed it!
So much fun to do some training runs with you.

Those are some of my insights from the 2013 year in running. What's next? I'm not so big into "new year goals". Why pick an arbitrary time -- the change of the calendar -- to decide what to do next? But I'm pretty sure the coming year will include more trails, more weights, and hopefully some more speed. The most important thing is that it includes lots of runs in beautiful places, alone and with friends. I can work out the rest as I go along.

Have a great New Year!

I just can't get enough of this picture.

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.