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.

Waiting for erythropoiesis, and fall running plans

Two weeks into iron replacement therapy (using Floradix, which seems to be pretty good stuff), labs suggest things are slowly heading in the right direction. My hemoglobin has gone from 8.9 to 9.4, hematocrit from 28.4 to 30.4, and ferritin from 6.8 to 18.2. All of these are still too low, but we're going the right way. I haven't yet noticed much change in my exercise tolerance, though things certainly aren't getting any worse. Still, I'm ready for some more erythropoiesis. NOW.

I've been continuing to run, trying to strike a balance between training as much as I can reasonably do, and not getting injured, totally wiped out, or stuck 5 miles from home and in death-march mode. Results have been variable. My training log is sort of tragicomical:

Aug 29 (2 days after diagnosis): Run 2 very slow, painful miles, then walk 1.6 back home with moderate left plantar pain. Notes on run: "Ugh."
Aug 31: 30 min hill repeats. "Felt decent!"
Sept 2: Run 2 hours at Lebanon Hills. Cool temperatures. "Felt pretty good."
Sept 3: Run 5.4 mi, including some extra walk breaks. "Decent at beginning, tired by end."
Sept 4: Spin class, lots of biking around town.
Sept 5: Run 2.4 slow mi. "Tired again."
Sept 7: Run 4 hours at Lebanon Hills with a friend training for TC Marathon. Took some long walk breaks about 2 hours in, but then was able to run-walk again at the end. "Felt OK."
Sept 9: Run 2.6 mi, a little faster than I recently have. "Decent."
Sept 12 (today): Run 4.2 mi in beautiful, crisp, cool weather. "Felt pretty good."

Sweaty post-4-hour run picture with Deena last weekend.
She literally ran circles around me!

So to summarize: a bunch of short, mostly not-great runs, punctuated by two decent, longer efforts on the trails.

All this brings me to the question of whether the TC Marathon is still feasible at this stage. We're about 3.5 weeks out from it, and my original schedule (modification of Higdon's Marathon 3) had me doing my final 20+ miler this weekend, then taper. (Obviously, I've also missed/drastically shortened lots of those midweek long-ish runs (up to 10 mi) and not done anything resembling speedwork or a tempo in ages.) I'm certain I could complete the race, but would it be a good idea?

Other non-negotible events on the calendar include this Saturday's Babes in Bikeland, a fantastic women's alleycat bike race, and next Saturday's Surly Trail Loppet, which I love because (a) it was my first trail race, 2 years ago; (b) it's right in Minneapolis and I can bike there; and (c) it's sponsored by my favorite local brewer, Surly, with beer, bratwursts, and music at the finish line.

Oh, and there's the small matter of Wild Duluth, a trail 50K I'd really like to do two weeks after TC Marathon... oh, and then the Icebox 480, an 8-hour timed race in early November.

Lots of good stuff is coming this month and next (and next after that!) and I want to be healthy and enjoy as much of it as I can. So here's the tentative long run plan (with the usual weekday runs/biking/lifting/core as feasible, and assuming my hematopoietic system cooperates):

• This weekend: A shorter (2-ish hour) long run, then Babes, which last year felt pretty much like a 3-hour fartlek, only the next day instead of sore legs I had sore deltoids and forearms.
• Next weekend: A long (2-hour) warmup, then the Trail Loppet Half Marathon to make a 21-23 mile long run.
• The following weekend: Traveling to Salt Lake City for a conference. Attempt not to run excessively on amazing looking trails that start right in the city. But definitely some running, because dang.
• TC Marathon weekend: Either run the TC Marathon at training run pace, or 5+ hour trail run, probably at Afton. I'll decide a little closer to time which it will be.
• The following weekend: Taper. Seriously.
• The weekend after that: Wild Duluth 50K.

Whew! That's a lot of planning. And all pretty provisional. But I'm okay with keeping things tentative. I would love to do the TC Marathon some day, but if that's not this year, it's okay. I really want to get a fall marathon or 50K race, but I have several chances to do that if TC Marathon doesn't happen. (Even if Wild Duluth doesn't happen, I think I can do it at Icebox 480). I want to feel better and run with my friends and not be injured and have fun running. Those are my big goals. I think I've got them covered with this plan, regardless of how the little details shake out.

Friday inspiration

Run funk explained!

After four weeks of lousy runs (albeit in beautiful settings), I'd had enough. I made an appointment with my PA. "Why are you being seen?" asked the nurse. "Decreased exercise tolerance," I told her, slightly embarrassed. After all, I'd run 30+ miles the previous week (slowly and painfully), and had biked to the appointment. Still, that was the problem, and that was why I was there.

Luckily, my PA was a marathoner (until she had hip replacements) and is an endurance swimmer. When I told her I just couldn't run like I had been a few weeks ago, she got it. I wasn't sure what to make of the other symptoms I'd had (leg cramps, salt craving), but mentioned those too. "Maybe it's just the heat, maybe it's overtraining, but I just want to make sure it's not something else before I ramp up again," I told her.

She did a physical exam (normal) and ordered some lab tests. We started with a reasonable set of tests for fatigue: a complete blood count, basic metabolic profile (chem-7), thyroid tests, and a urinalysis. The clinic runs some basic tests on site, so I only had to wait 10 minutes for results from the CBC, metabolic profile, and UA.

"Well, I see why you're having trouble running!" she announced, coming back into the exam room with a printout. "I think that 11 mile run with these counts was pretty heroic!" I'd had a CBC two months ago as part of my hardware removal pre-op physical, so we had a baseline to compare the numbers to. My hemoglobin had dropped from the low end of normal (11.7 g/dL) to well below normal (8.9 g/dL), a 25% drop! Hematocrit and RBC count were down similar levels, and my MCV (average red blood cell volume, which decreases in iron deficiency anemia) was still within normal limits, but significantly lower than it had been.

She added on some iron tests, which showed evidence of pretty marked iron deficiency -- my ferritin was 6.8 (normal is 10-300), iron was 14 (normal 40-150), iron saturation 2% (normal 20-50%), elevated transferrin and total iron binding capacity. Other test results, including the metabolic profile, thyroid tests, and UA, were normal.

Here's the weird thing (or maybe not): Yes, this is alarming. Yes, we're working me up for GI iron loss. But my first reaction was: I feel so validated. Four weeks of crappy running -- explained! Salt craving -- explained! General feeling of being in a funk -- explained? Maybe. With a clear diagnosis came a clear course of action.

I've started taking a funky iron + herbal supplement called Floradix, recommended by my PA. Good iron bioavailability, no bad GI effects (constipation) that iron pills typically cause. Because I don't have a diet that's obviously iron deficient (I'm still eating pretty close to Whole30, with lots of vegetables and meat, including beef 1-2x/week), we're concerned that I may be losing blood in my GI tract, so we're working that up. (It's a little bit of trouble, but beats the heck out of missing a colon cancer or gastric ulcer).

It supposedly takes two weeks to see a measurable effect of iron supplementation on blood counts. I've been taking iron for 9 days now. Hard to say, so far, whether there has been any detectable change. I ran 2 hours easy on Labor Day at Lebanon Hills, and it was fine. (The cooler weather certainly helped). Did a couple more runs this week that were so-so. I'm impatient. But now that I have an explanation for run funk, I'm also hopeful.

This was a very very wordy post, so I'll finish with some gratuitous pictures from our Outer Banks vacation. Those boys played hard in the water! It was a great trip.

Vacation running, and the run funk

It's been four weeks of bad running around here, starting the week I ran at Afton. During that run, I had no gas in the tank, walked the hills, felt wiped out. The next day I tried to run trails with some friends and, even with them going slow for me, still dropped out after 30 minutes. No energy.

I rested. Didn't run at all for five days. Heck, I even took a pregnancy test, just in case. (Spoiler: it was negative.) Did 11 road miles with a friend training for the TC Marathon with me, and once again I was spent.

What was going on? I increased my carb intake, got more sleep, did some yoga and strength work instead of running. I was getting muscle cramps at night and I craved salt. I put together a very mediocre week of vacation running in western Minnesota, then a decent week of running here (including a 3.5 hour run at Lebanon Hills and the Endless Summer Lebanon Hills 7 miler). 

I headed to the North Carolina coast on vacation last week with plans to try and get an 18-miler, to continue my marathon training. But once again, I just couldn't put together a decent run.

The temperature was 70s to 80s and muggy, with a breeze on the beach. The scenery was certainly beautiful. The first full day there, my mother and I set out for a run from our rental house in Duck, NC, on the Outer Banks:

We headed up Duck Road (the only north-south road that far north on the island), and quickly found the boardwalk that skirts the sound. :

This part led right down into the sound.

The boardwalk goes for maybe half a mile, along the town of Duck.

Lots of trees with wet feet. The sound is freshwater, ever since the northern end of the island sanded/silted over in the 1800s. Geology is happening in real time out here.

Live oaks grow all over the Outer Banks. They're cool old trees.

Wetlands bordering the sound.

After the boardwalk ended, we continued north on the much less charming highway. We were in good company -- the whole area was jammed with runners and cyclists (everything from serious looking road cyclists to families on beach cruiser rental bikes). But by the time we turned around, 25 minutes into the run, I was already getting pretty tired. (And it wasn't the speed -- Mom's running motto is "Old, Slow, and Persistent"). By the time we were back to the boardwalks, I was taking frequent walk breaks. Maybe it was the heat or humidity, maybe it was being tired from traveling, but whatever it was... the run was not happening. I tried three days later and despite starting in the comparative cool at 6 am, I couldn't even put 5 minutes of running together.

I did get some nice sunrise pictures, though.

So after that, I pretty much gave up on vacation running. Oh, I did some yoga and bodyweight strength work (squats, lunges, calf raises, planks). We were certainly pretty active, swimming in the pool and ocean almost every day and riding bikes. I caught up on sleep, read a trashy book, played games with my family, and got a lot of sun (but avoided sunburn). It was a good vacation. It was actually a very good vacation.

When I got back this week, though, I called my doctor for an appointment. It was time to figure out what the heck was going on.

Gear Review: INKnBURN

My love for INKnBURN's running clothes is no secret. (I'm a newly named ambassador for the company, but all the gear reviewed here was purchased by me, before I had any relationship with them). I initially encountered their clothing in early 2012 through reviews on a number of run blogs (notably Iris's now-defunct Stet That Run), joined their Facebook feed, and fell in love with their designs.

A quick aside here: I am a pathologist. My job, every day, is to look at complex pictures (tissue slides), and recognize patterns (make diagnoses). I love the visual aspect of my job. I love drinking in complexity with my eyes, and finding meaning in frenzied, multilayered, seemingly patternless information. At various times, I've been a quilter. When I was pregnant, I was a hazard in the fabric store -- somehow, I craved colors, not food.

So, you can see why I couldn't get enough of their clothing. This wasn't a screen print. This was an all-over, whole-garment work of art. And once I read enough reviews assuring me that the tech fabric was, uh, tech-y and the clothes fit well, all I had to do was pick out a pair of shorts and give 'em a try.

The purple Run or Die shorts pretty much rocked my world. I loved the slightly textured, woven-but-stretchy fabric. The wide, stretchy, soft waistband. The vivid colors, melting from violet to fucsia. The two slim but capacious side pockets. And I loved the glaring skull on the back of the waistband (Even if my kids think it's an owl, not a skull. Hey, owls are badass too).

After a year and a half of hard wear, they're holding up pretty well. There's a little pilling over one side panel (probably from a run through a field of burrs). One front seam binding is just beginning to loosen, but should be fixable with a needle and thread. Otherwise, they look as good as new. Not bad for shorts I wear on average twice a week and wash in the machine and throw in the dryer (when I don't just wash them by hand so I can wear them again sooner).

I've worn them in temperatures ranging from 27 to 95, downpours, torrential sweating, blackberry canes, and deep mud. They look good even when you're bleeding in them, they always clean up well, and they're basically bombproof.

Not long afterward, I bought a Sugar Skull T-shirt. I've never owned such a flashy piece of clothing (excluding my wedding dress?). I love it. I wear it when I need to feel invulnerable.

I wore it for a 25 mile trail run two weeks after I broke my arm:

"Would you take a picture of me? 'Cause otherwise, even I won't believe I did this."

No, you're not imagining it. That is a GLITTER CAST, people. Gold glitter pressed into the fiberglass while it set. Yow!

In fact, it worked so well that, aside from trading up from cast to robo-arm, I just wore the same thing on race day, at the Superior 50K:

Outbound at the aid station, and feeling great!

And, uh, apparently a few other times as well:

Predawn run start at Afton. Note the merino wool armwarmers - in July!

Endless Summer race at Lebanon Hills. But hey, variety! Check the Lust shorts!

With the arrival of serious summer weather this year, I branched out to sample the tank tops:

Flutter tank top at the Portland Old Port Half Marathon in July

... and camisoles:

Lotus camisole at Endless Summer Murphy Hanrehan trail race (my hottest race ever, by a long shot).

On vacation last week in North Carolina, we even had two generations of duelling INKnBURN:

My mom ROCKS the Drifting Petals tank top, and left me in the dust on the run.

The tank tops were a pleasant surprise -- long enough to cover my waist and hips (and I'm tall), really nice body-skimming cut, and a hint of a racerback to show off shoulders. I wish there were a few more designs available for the tank tops... but do check out the Lust top, which is awesome.

I love the way the camisole looks on other people, but it doesn't work quite as well for me -- I think I fall in between sizes small and medium. Still, I like the surprisingly soft and comfortable straps, the shelf bra with a secret gel-sized pocket, and the wide variety of styles.

Despite the flashy looks, all the gear performs like technical wear should. The tops wick, dry fast, and wash well. The fabric doesn't chafe, shrink, or fade (so far). These are my go-to gear in warm to cool weather and for anything indoors -- basically, anything that doesn't require merino wool baselayers.

Want to try some INKnBURN for yourself? Register on their site and use my discount code (RobynToldMe) to get 15% off your first purchase. It's good stuff!

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.