Ironman Des Moines 2022 Race Report

This was my first Ironman. My first triathlon since 2009. And I qualified for Kona. As a vegetarian, of course I could not pass on the opportunity to compete at the Certified Piedmontese Beef Ironman North American Championship in Des Moines. 

 

Background

Back during the worst of Covid, I decided I wanted to make an attempt at qualifying for Kona. I was 39 then so I figured I would aim for doing one when I was 40. I live in Breckenridge, Colorado where ski mountaineering and MUT running are more of a focus than open water swimming and pavement travel. 

Fast forward to autumn of 2021. I began doing some background research on qualifying and realized I needed to pick a race that would accentuate my strengths and minimize my weaknesses. So I chose to signup for the inaugural Ironman Alaska in Juneau. 1) Wetsuit swim in calm waters. I swam in HS and I was a beach lifeguard, but I had not done any swimming since 2009. 2) Hilly bike. I prefer periodic breaks from the aero position. Most of what little biking I do is MTB or gravel. 3) A mountainous run. I love mountain running. More elevation change the better. 4) Alaska should be cooler than a lot of the races in the continental US... similar to the mountain climate I live in.

I started training that fall. This mostly entailed skimo, running on packed snow, periodic trainer rides in a frigid garage and pool swimming with a masters group. My fitness was steadily improving. I used running and skiing for low intensity volume while most of my bike sessions and swim sessions incorporated intensity. "Reverse periodization" of sorts for biking and swimming. By April, on a day when it snowed 6", I realized I needed a warmup event before AK to dial in transitions, nutrition and just IM race tactics in general. That's when I committed to IMDSM - as a "practice" race for IMAK.

Prerace

Even as a practice race, I still wanted to do well... just no pressure to do so. In the two weeks ahead of IMDSM, I cut volume, maintained intensity, entered a road running 10 miler but really did not know what to expect with the ironman. I started consulting a number of friends who were either coaches or had done ironmans. They enlightened me on a number of nuances and details that come with racing an ironman. I reserved race tires with RaceDayWheels. I mounted a torpedo bottle on the aero bars of my 2006 Cervelo Dual entry level tri bike. I practiced wetsuit swimming for all of 20 minutes in 50 deg water that took my breath away. And I changed 3 flats on my bike during this time but no matter, I had carbon deep dish wheels waiting for me. By go-time I was feeling moderately confident. 

Instead of flying, I drove the 10 hours from Breckenridge to Des Moines with my old tri bike in tow arriving Friday afternoon. When I arrived at the race expo, I walked my bike over to the RaceDayWheels tent to have the Zipp 808s swapped onto my frame. To my shock and horror, Marc informed me that my vintage Cervelo lacked the clearance to accommodate modern race wheels. Balls. A feeling of panic rushed over me. There was no way my old tires would make it 112 miles. Then I asked Marc if he had any bikes I could rent. "Maybe. I do have a 56cm used 2018 Canyon here for sale..." I took it for a spin around the block. Good enough! The hasty decision to buy a $3500 bike on the spot without a fitting left me a little uneasy and anxious. I laid there on the lumpy mattress of my cheap EconoLodge room second guessing myself. So I took it for a spin up the street. There was no denying it was a little small but it was going to have to do so I came to terms with that before nodding off to sleep that night.

Raceday Eve

The following morning was the practice swim. Having had hardly any time in my wetsuit I showed up promptly at 0800 like an earnest schoolboy ready for his first lesson. As I lined up to hop in, I noticed a few people being turned away. And then I was turned away as well. I had forgotten to wear my prison anklet. Dammit. I stripped out of my wetsuit dejected. But while I was moping back toward my car, I noticed some of the other rejects swimming on the public beach. Hallelujah. I climbed right back into that snug wetsuit and dove in like I was receiving an adult baptism. The swim went... swimmingly. I hadn't realized how much a wetsuit puts you on top of the water instead of in the water. What a confidence-inspiring feeling.

I wrapped up the swim, went back to the hotel and squeezed in another shakeout on the bike and a short run for a systems check - felt dialed. I collected my gear for the race into each transition bag and took photos of each so I could ensure I hadn't forgotten anything later. I passed on using the run and bike special needs bags. I came to the conclusion that they're a waste of time and just complicate things. I loaded everything up for delivery to the transition area and came to feel mildly inadequate by what I encountered at the bike rack: dozens of shiny $10000+ machines all around. Then I concluded that most of those bike owners are just compensating. Somehow I managed to relax and pass out early that night before the 0545 start.

The Swim (1:00:36 - 4th AG); T1 (11:17)

When I arrived at the start around 0500 it looked like Santa's toy factory. People tinkering with bikes. Tinkering with bags. Tinkering with wetsuits. Tinkling in urinals. So I just took their lead and did all that too. The 11th hour double checks helped settle my nerves. Instead of a mass start, all of us age groupers self-sorted by anticipated swim time. I hopped in with the 1:00 group. We lined up in groups of 2 for a staggered start. It was somewhat anticlimactic compared to the chaos I had pictured. We just hopped in the lake and went. 

I repeated the mantra "smooth is fast" during the first lap of the swim and patiently stroked on the heels of a few guys who had gone out ahead of me. But the second lap converged with the later starters creating a churning cesspool. It was an obstacle course of flying limbs. I calmly navigated the chaos and exited the water in just over an hour. The "strippers" caught me off guard when they yelled "GET ON THE GROUND!" as I was running toward T1. I obeyed as they efficiently ripped my wetsuit from my legs. I carried the momentum into the changing tent... where everything ground to a halt. I had trouble finding one of my socks after toweling off then wasted too much time applying sunscreen and squirrelnut butter. By the time I finally started the bike, 11 minutes had ticked by. I still have some work to do on transitions.

The Bike (5:05:28 - 8th AG); T2 (7:24)

A couple friends advised not to go out too hard at the start of the bike. I took that to heart, awkwardly downing a PB&J over the course of the winding first mile. Soon after I was settling into aero position (felt better than feared) and monitoring my 1-min wattage, normalized power and intensity factor as I peddled out of town. It would be easy to over-push the bike without the aid of a bike computer. 70-75% of FTP felt effortless. I knew the heat was coming and had no desire to suffer through the entirety of the run. Steady was the name of the game. Before this race, my longest ride had been 90 miles on a frickin' trainer. I maintained about 350 cal/hr on the bike consisting of 24oz. gatorade and 2 maurten gels. Some people desire solid food but I just prefer to keep it simple and my stomach can handle that regiment. 

This bike course was beautiful, far exceeding Iowa expectations. It was a single loop full of rolling hills and wide open farm country. A gentle rain came through about 50 miles into the bike and the subsequent light show from the clouds was mesmerizing - easy to enjoy the scenery when you're relaxed on the bike. I noticed a lot of riders around me pushing the hills. I let my own wattage climb into the 250s (FTP 310) but never more. Many of the guys pushing early dropped off in the latter half of the bike as the humidity and temperature started climbing. The wind was swirling for much of the bike leg but mercifully the last 20 miles had a pronounced tail wind to push us into T2.

I offloaded my bike, grabbed my T2 bag and rushed into the changing tent - not because I was laser focused on making up for my sloppy T1 but because I had a code brown. I sprinted out of the tent and landed in a 110 deg portajohn where I wrestled with the top half of my trisuit. I left at least 4 minutes of that transition in the toilet.

The Run (3:19:43 - 1st AG)

One of the perks of a transitional intestinal offloading was the run feeling relaxed but strong from the outset. Before deciding to do this race, I had been a MUT runner for the last 15 years so this discipline is my jam. My race strategy was smooth on the swim, steady on the bike, then throw down on the run and start reeling in the field. But I could feel the mercury rising with the high sun. Eventually the heat index hit 100F for the day. Heat was a wildcard for me having no acclimation to it whatsoever. It had snowed 2 ft at my house less than a month before race day. The high in Breckenridge last summer was all of 83F. At a friend's urging, I had packed salt tabs along for the run. Although I could stomach gatorade on the bike, the same wasn't true on the run. I rotated in water with salt tabs to try to keep my electrolytes balanced. I managed to hit the halfway mark in 1:35 but I was fading. The heat was taking a toll. However I seemed to be holding up better than most of the field. I witnessed one of the pro women walk off the run course and lay down under a tree about halfway into the run. I continued to liberally dump water on my head, throw ice into my tri suit and just embraced that unmistakable sensation of discomfort. Even with a slowing pace, I passed several of my competitors in the second half of the run - coming in at 13th OA on the run.

At the finish line, I had no idea how I had finished. I asked another competitor in his early 30s who I had been beside for much of the bike and the run if we had gotten into Kona. He shot me the 'are you effing kidding?' look before replying, "You just broke 9:45... what do you think?" After removing my shoes to discover the horror that was my feet, a race volunteer kindly looked up my result and let me know I got 2nd in the 40-44 AG and 30th OA. The result had exceeded all expectations, I had qualified for Kona in my first Ironman.

 

Pilot Mountain to Hanging Rock (PM2HR) 50K

 
Location: Danbury, NC; Pilot Mountain SP to Hanging Rock SP via the Sauratown Trail
Date Run: 10/15/2016, 0730 start
Duration: 4:21:21
Place: 1 out of 126
Average Pace: 8:24
Elevation: 750' to 2050'
Weather: 50-70F, clear
Race Website: http://pm2hrultras.com/

About a two hour drive north of Charlotte, 12 miles south of the border with Virginia roughly halfway between nowhere and someplace is a little town called Danbury. It would be unremarkable were it not in the shadow of two impressive state parks - Hanging Rock and Pilot Mountain. Both have rapids on the Dan River, multipitch sport and trad climbing, and an impressive trail network connected between the parks by the Sauratown Trail.

I stumbled upon the race website while perusing runningintheusa.com. It had a couple main draws. 

Of the dozens of race formats I've done, my preferences go:

1. Point to point (Imogene Pass Run in CO)
2. Loop (Breck Crest in CO)
3. Out and back (Cloudsplitter in KY)
4. Repeating sections (I avoid these)

PM2HR is a point to point between state parks and it looked scenic based on the cherry picked photos from the website. In person it equally really impressed. Pilot Mountain rises slowly from the valley like most other Appalachia humps but the top is capped by an almost perfectly cylindrical shear rock wall. Hanging Rock has beautiful waterfalls in the valley floor of the park, while 1500 feet above and a 2 mi hike away are shear cliffs with unobstructed views of the surrounding countryside.

I met my college friend Aaron in Danbury the night before the race. We stayed at a cozy 2 bedroom called the Wren Roost in the Whippoorwill Inn. There was no front desk, didn't see the owners once the entire weekend; but there was key underneath the doormat and the place was clean. The town really had limited dining options. I was thrilled to find hot cheetos and takis at the corner market but would have preferred a banana. The River Rock Cafe on the outskirts of town had a decent pasta dish adequate for a pre-race meal.

The race was a point to point from ::drumroll:: Pilot Mountain to Hanging Rock, so for $10 a bus shuttled runners from the finish to the start. Within five minutes of departing HR at 0630, our bus was pulled over. Turns out the driver, in addition to not signaling, was also going the wrong way so the officer kindly escorted us to the start. Despite it being 0715, dawn had yet to arrive. There were only two urinals available for the 135 50k runners. Usually I try to take care of business before arriving at the start but the coffee failed me so I was resigned to waiting in the dark line for half an hour. The rising sun moved in sync with the line illuminating Pilot Mountain in the distance. 

After a brief pre-race meeting lamenting the closure of portions of the Sauratown Trail and reroutes on pavement, the gun went off at 0745. The 50k started in Pilot Mountain, but only the 50 milers actually ran in the park. The 50k just skirted the edge of the park quickly jumping on the Sauratown on a fast descent leading out of PM. Four of us charged down the wide trail going sub 7:00 for the first mile. Once the trail flattened so did the pace. The pack dispersed and after the first four miles I was alone in the front where I remained through the finish.

Sauratown Trail was primarily rolling technical single track with one significant climb starting at mile 10. The trail had a lot of flow to it but also had infrequent road crossings and portions that ran along the road. It was less than optimal but unavoidable because of trail closures. Mile 17 through mile 20 just before entering HR Park consisted of a long climb along the road. The pavement was warm and draining.

There was an aid station before leaving the road and entering the HR trail system but I didn't take in enough electrolytes. After the 1000' climb from the road to the race's highest point in HR, I was left with an electrolyte imbalance. On the rapid technical descent from Moore's Wall, I took a digger on the technical downhill and both of my hamstrings locked. One of the race organizers marking the trail climbed toward me from the opposite direction but hadn't seen me go down. After telling me I was crushing it from a distance he broke mid sentence asking "Uhhh... doing okay?" Guess I looked off balance and shaken - the blood dripping down my leg might've been a clue too. He quickly rifled through his pack leaving me with pretzels and a bottle of water on the fly. 

His gesture really saved my race. There wasn't another aid station for 3 more miles of steep quad crushing downhill that transitioned from single track to crowded concrete walkway. My handheld was drained and I was running on fumes by the time I rolled into the aid station at the parking lot of the HR visitor center. I had a PB&J, drank half a liter of water, and for the first time in my life, I downed a salt tablet. It actually worked and the intermittent cramping in my hamstrings eased. The aid station volunteers informed me I was out front by 20 mins. I relaxed my pace some as I descended further through HR. 

The trail from the visitor center gave way to steep stairs that navigated through beautiful waterfalls near the floor of the park. In light of my lead, I decided I wanted a picture taken in front of the falls. I failed to bring my phone so I asked a random park visitor for assistance. The man hesitantly admitted to having a phone. After I explained I was running a race and didn't want to miss the chance to take a picture in front of the falls he quickly acquiesced. I passed off my phone number on the fly and continued down the stairs to the base of the falls.

Knowing I was about 26 miles in, I conserved energy through the flats to avoid a late race bonk. An abundance of stream crossings peppered with picturesque fallen autumn leaves kept my pace in check. When the course finally emerged from the underbrush of Hanging Rock onto a gravel road, my GPS put me at 29 mi. The course ended rather abruptly a half mile later 1.5mi short of 31. I crossed the line in 4:21, first overall. The next finisher came through in 4:55 so I was alone with the volunteers for awhile. I grabbed the free finisher beer and hobbled down to the Dan River adjacent to the finish line. There was a raft put-in providing a convenient spot to hop in and soak my legs. As more runners finished, the riverside bar at the finish line provided the perfect spot to unwind and hang out. My buddy Aaron finished in the front end of the pack in around 6 hours. Wasting no time, we grabbed more beers and got back in the river making a perfect end to a great race.

Ratings

Race Organization (5=phenomenal, 1=atrocious): 4/5
The good: Well marked, plenty of food at aid stations, diverse beautiful course with a great finisher area.
The bad: Did I mention the shuttle driver was pulled over on the way to the start?

Course Difficulty (5=Pikes Peak Ascent, 1=a flat dirt road): 3/5
I took a digger. I never take diggers. The technical downhill sections were fast requiring focus. Though the road sections - not so much. The climbing was moderately challenging but not demoralizing.

Course Scenery (5=engagement proposal backdrop, 1=concrete walls): 4/5
A point to point in the fall with plenty of elevation changes and a diversity of terrain I rarely see in the east.

Schwag (5=a tech T, embroidered towel & warmup pants, 1=a cotton shirt): 4/5
Unique finisher medal, framed plaque for winning, free finisher beer, and a sweatshirt

Overall: 5/5

The brief road sections and bathroom line at the start were the only drawbacks of this race. Even getting pulled over provided quality conversation fodder. Courses like this are why I love trail running.

Wambaw Swamp Stomp 50k

 
 Location: Swamp Fox Passage of the Palmetto Trail, Witherbee Ranger Station in Francis Marion NF, SC (north of Charleston)
Date Run: 5/7/2016, 0730 start
Duration: 4:19:58
Place: 1 out of 30
Average Pace: 8:20
Elevation: Sea Level (South Carolina Low Country)
Weather: 55-75F, clear
Race Website: https://ultrasignup.com/register.aspx?did=33694

My mother retired to north-central Florida. In the course of planning a visit, I found an ultra within a 6 hour drive in a state I had yet to run one knowing nothing else about the race. The 'Low Country' of South Carolina is a region along the coast south and east of the Sandhills marking the ancient sea coast as well as a distinct cultural line. So I guess this race report is bringing some Low Country Beta. Honestly, I was not overly concerned with the history of the area. I had visited Charleston prior and was focused on quickly knocking out one more state in my pursuit of running a marathon or better in every state.

I hustled into the town of Goose Creek in the middle of rush hour traffic after charging all day along I-95. Sitting and stretching in bumper to bumper traffic along the capillaries of the GC gave me a great opportunity to take in the sites immediately viewable from my vehicle: congested strip malls filled with Bojangles, boarded up Blockbusters, and pawn shops offering pay day loans. I pulled into my cheap airbnb in a row of shoddy townhomes and settled in for the night.

The Witherbee Ranger Station is located on the western edge of the Francis Marion National Forest. In my 40 minute drive from Goose Creek, the strip malls mercifully gave way to open roads through shallow swamps and a young pine forested landscape.

Ranger Lookout Tower at the Start

The location was ideal for hosting an ultra. In its fourth year, the race was still rather small. I don't think there were more than 60 people there running in the two distances offered - 50k and 50mi (and relays of each distance).

Pre-race Registration

At the start, the 50k course immediately split from the 50mi so as to add on an extra mile along a dirt road to make the 15 mi course a full 31 miles with the out and back along the Swamp Fox Passage of the Palmetto Trail.

This made for a chase scenario with the 50k runners pursuing the 50 milers. I rather enjoyed this setup. I ran with another competitor, Todd, at the front for the first 1/8 of the race. Despite chatting we were still putting in 7:15/miles from the outset. We had picked off all but three of the 50 milers by the time we reached the first aid station 6 miles in. I knew I couldn't maintain that pace. When Todd stopped to pee at the first aid station I continued on. While I enjoyed the conversation, my competitive nature kicked in and I wanted to focus more on breathing and pacing. I figured if Todd caught up he would either win with ease or be so gassed that he would bonk later.

The course followed mostly single track through sparse new growth pines with a forest floor covered in ferns for the first half and thicker swamp vegetation through the second. Occasionally the trail gave way to boardwalks to traverse the marshy landscape as well as several dirt road crossings. Most of the course was well shaded. Aid stations were roughly 5 miles apart making a single handheld bottle carry adequate. Just before the second aid station at 11 miles, the course emerged from the woods and went along an open paved road for a mile. It ducked back into the forest at the aid station. By this point I had passed all the 50 milers and I was alone at the front. I fell into a rhythm and ran off course around mile 13. Instead of turning sharp right after a foot bridge I ran straight into a swamp for a 1/4 mi. Not until I climbed atop a dead log and viewed a landscape of a hundred more fallen soldiers did I realize my mistake and backtrack.

Photo courtesy of Brian Fancher Photography

I thought for sure Todd had caught me with the blunder but at the turnaround aid station I was informed I was the first one through. Not until I had started back a couple miles did I run into Todd. He turned around on the spot and started running with me. He had taken a wrong turn as well, but instead of realizing his mistake he proceeded down an old fire road for a couple miles and lost a lot of time. Rather than tacking on another 5 miles to his 50k he decided just to turn around with me. After running together for a few miles, the temperature continued to climb into the 70s and Todd fell back along the open road section of the course. I was alone again for the remainder of the race. My steady 7:45/mi pace gave way to a 9:30/mi pace for the last 5 miles of the race. Coming from the mountains, I don't adapt well to heat and humidity.

Nonetheless, I crossed the finish line first before noon. The Witherbee Ranger Station was completely devoid of human activity outside of a lone volunteer recording finishers and one woman off to the side sunbathing patiently waiting for her husband to finish running. I had to confirm that that was in fact the official finish line. After several minutes, the lead 50 miler rolled in and other racers started showing up, as did the race director Chad Haffa.  He unceremoniously distributed finisher coins and schwag to the three of us 50k finishers standing around. It was a beautiful day so I hung out at the finish line for another twenty minutes chatting with Chad. He organizes a lot of races and really seemed to pour his heart and soul into putting on a (relatively) well marked quality event. You can find out about the other races he directs here.

Ratings

Race Organization (5=phenomenal, 1=atrocious): 3/5
The good: The RD gave out his personal number a few days before the race and was responsive. Plenty of time was available race morning for packet pickup. The race was mostly well marked. The bad: The website lacked a course map and profile. Only 2 hours available for packet pickup the mid-day before the race.

Course Difficulty (5=Pikes Peak Ascent, 1=a flat dirt road): 2/5
It was so flat and so dry. There were a few holes leftover from rotted stumps that required dodging. The hardest part of the course was leaving the shady trail to run on pavement. Having said that, the lack of diversity in terrain really wore on my legs.

Course Scenery (5=engagement proposal backdrop, 1=concrete walls): 3/5
Enjoyed running through ferns and shady swamplands but missed those scenes you can only find with changes in elevation.

Schwag (5=a tech T, embroidered towel & warmup pants, 1=a cotton shirt): 3/5
Instead of a medal there was a coin but it was not personalized to the year or the 50k distance. For winning, I received arm warmers, a balaclava and some runner's goo. Some kind of hardware commemorating a 1st place finish would have been nice. No beer permitted at the finish but each of a beer mug and a beer glass given out to registrants along with a tech T.

Overall: 3/5

Enjoyed the backdrop and the RD's commitment but races with some elevation change I find more rewarding. 

The Cloudsplitter 50K

 
Location: Pine Mountain State Scenic Trail, Elkhorn City, KY
Date Run: 10/3/2015, 0800 start
Duration: 5:38:50
Place: 1 out of 50
Average Pace: 10:54
Elevation: 800' to 3042'
Weather: 50-60F, rain and fog
Race Website: http://www.cloudsplitter100.com/CSHome.shtml

Elkhorn City lies in the far southeast of Kentucky right along the border with Virginia deep in the heart of the Appalachians. The Russell Fork of the Big Sandy River provides class IV rapids running right through town in a beautiful rural mountain setting. Think Deliverance. A ten minute drive up the hill from Elkhorn City leads to Breaks Interstate Park and the home of the deepest gorge east of the Mississippi River. Often referred to as "The Grand Canyon of the South", The Breaks provides breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains and the Russell Fork 1000' below. 

The Race

Breaks is also the northeastern terminus of Pine Mountain, a 125 mile long ridge along which the Cloudsplitter 50K, 100K, and 100 miler run. The course starts in Elkhorn City climbing continuously for the first 8 miles along a broad rocky trail up to the ridge line.

Historically, October is the driest month in eastern Kentucky. The incessant rain did not care. The rain started about 20 minutes into the race and did not stop for about 3 hours. One particular section of the trail 8 miles into the race was in the process of being logged. As a result there was an enormous unavoidable half foot deep mud pit. Beyond the speed trap, the race really started living up to the name. Whereas in town it was cloudy, atop the ridge runners entered the clouds. There were several exposed slab crossings providing open views of the surrounding mountains along the fault line. 

But these views were completely obscured for most of the race. 

Along the ridge, the trail undulated from these exposed rock crossings to dipping a couple hundred feet below into the woods. 

All races were out and back courses. For the 50K, the midpoint of the course was the Birch Knob tower. Two miles from the turn around at the Birch Knob aid station I was the first runner to go through. Climbing a gentle incline with my head angled down I suddenly heard a low growl. By the time I lifted my head all I observed was a big furry butt 50 yards ahead disappearing into the woods on the right side of the trail. Smoky sent my heart rate through the roof. I cruised into the aid station and maintained the momentum through the rest of the race to come in first and set the course record in the second year of the Cloudsplitter 50K. 

It took the race organizers a moment to realize I had finished though. The finish through town was not very well marked. I navigated to the finish line simply by knowing the location of the park. Upon arriving at a locked gate on the opposite side of the ball field holding the finish line, I navigate through another gate that was not the intended course. I think a lot of the people there hardly noticed I finished. After about 30 seconds someone said, "Oh, wow... that's the first 50K finisher!" before giving me the hardware. The finish line had delicious pulled pork sandwiches on hand and plenty of pop. In the future some fruit and gatorade... and beer would be nice additions (although Elkhorn City seems to be a dry town). 

Ratings

Race Organization (5=phenomenal, 1=atrocious): 3/5
Some runners felt the course was poorly marked but I think it just required careful attention. Without the rain, it would have been much easier to navigate. The aid stations were generally well stocked with Hammer gels, water, HEED, and fruit although one aid station ran out of water on the return trip through. And the marking for the end of the race through town left something to be desired. I imagine the rough edges will be ironed out in future years.

Course Difficulty (5=Pikes Peak Ascent, 1=a flat dirt road): 4/5
 The rain made everything a little bit slick. The 8000+' of total climbing was difficult, but being at such low altitude made it completely manageable.

Course Scenery (5=engagement proposal backdrop, 1=concrete walls): 5/5
 The ridge line unleashed gorgeous gorges through the brief breaks in the fog. The vegetation was lush and diverse. I saw a frickin' bear.

Schwag (5=a tech T, embroidered towel & warmup pants, 1=a cotton shirt): 3/5
Got a long sleeved tech tee and some decent coffee. Impressive medal.

Overall: 4/5
Despite the rain and the views obscured by an eerie white, I really loved this race. An agonizing relentless climb to start with,  exposed slab crossing, and fast technical single track really made it enjoyable.  The course had a unique character of its own. This race is worth the trip to the Kentucky-Virginia border.

Mad Dog (Ice Age Trail) Marathon

 
 Location: Sunburst Ski Area/Kettle Moraine State Forest, Kewaskum, WI
Date Run: 7/19/2014, 0720 start
Place: 2 out of 20
Duration: 4:55:37
Average Pace: 11:15
Elevation: ~1000'
Weather: 60-80F, mostly sunny, humid
Race Website: http://www.traildogrunning.com/2014_races/race_information_luna-tic_race_series

Every year we visit my wife's family in Michigan. This year she flew with my daughter and I drove the 20 hrs with our dog making for a good excuse to break up the drive with a marathon in a new state. A few years back I ran the Old Farts Marathon in Lowell, MI along the North Country Trail and liked it so this year I decided to sign up for the inaugural Trail Dog Marathon along the Ice Age Trail (IAT) on the other side of Lake Michigan.

As a small first time event, there were no race reports leaving me no idea what to expect with this race. Packet pickup was in the back of a bar in the small town of West Bend a few miles south of Kewaskum. There was no pre-race meal but they did provide you a free beer for carbo loading.

Race Route

The Race

As alluded to by the race logo above, the race distances offered were a 50K, marathon, half, and a 13K. Each start was spread out by 20 minutes with the 50K first. This is one of the smallest races I've ever been in. It was easy to find parking and know exactly where to go. The one drawback was only one (1) portapotty available at the start. No matter how small the race, just about everyone running tries to do some offloading before go-time. I was standing in the john line 7 people back when the race organizers announced (without requiring the use of a bullhorn) 5 minutes until the start. Fortunately the non-marathon runners let me cut to the front.

Just after the start of the 50K

Instead of a whistle, gun, or ceremonial song and dance, the race organizer simply explained, "when the race clock hits 20:00 [from the time the 50K began], start running..." There was not much jockeying for position with only 20 of us taking off at the same time and no real start signal. I tried to find a pacesetter but nobody volunteered so I just started running at a comfortable pace in the front. About 2 miles in, I realized one of the other marathoners was pacing off me. We got to talking and it turned out Josh was also from Colorado.

Josh and I crossing the road after completing the first 3 mi loop

The race had a short 3 mi loop west of the start and then turned north past the start entering the Kettle Moraine State Forest section of the IAT. It was mostly single track through thick trees and brush accentuated by grassy farm trails devoid of shade. The IAT runs along the terminal moraine of the last ice age (hence the name) so it was hillier than I was expecting. There were aid stations at miles 4 and 6 but the next one was not until mile 13. This would later become a mental hurdle following the turnaround.

Grassy farm trail

More typical section of the course

I made the mistake of not bringing a watch and having no idea what pace I was running. Josh took over setting the pace about 3 miles in. Despite being able to talk, after about 10mi into the race --when the sun and the temperature slowly started rising-- I realized we had gone out too fast. I suggested slowing down and we coasted comfortably into the turnaround aid station together but the damage had already been done. By mile 15 I felt the wheels coming loose and I slowed way down to try to keep them on, letting Josh to go ahead. Around mile 18 I caught up to him --he was hurting worse than I was. Both of us were questioning the location of the next aid station because it was warming up considerably. The 7 mi gap between aid stations was dreadful on the return. Unfortunately Josh had to pull out of the race after finally reaching that aid station at mile 21. Right around that point I bonked too. My glycogen stores were completely depleted so I did more walking than running for the last 5 miles. Amazingly I was not passed by another marathoner until mile 23. By this point it was in the high 70s, and the gently sloping open cornfields I had cruised down going out were a blazing torture to climb coming back.

Sunny open section

I finally entered a clearing with the Sunburst Ski Area visible in the distance. I felt like I had less than a mile left but in reality, there were still over 2 miles from this point. Upon crossing a road and entering a parking lot near the base of the ski area, the race turned right and ran a mile long loop along the edge of the Sunburst property before circling back to the finish. During this mile long loop I could see some of the other marathoners gaining on me. I increased the tempo of my old man shuffle, managing to hold them off to come in second overall.

I managed this race terribly. I need to take temperatures over 65 more into consideration.

Ratings

Race Organization (5=phenomenal, 1=atrocious): 3/5
The course was pretty well marked. The aid stations were well stocked with food, gels, HEED and water but the 7 mi gap between aid stations in hot humid weather (by my standards) was rough. There were no electrolyte drinks at the finish - only water and beer. The volunteers at the aid stations were friendly and encouraging.

Course Difficulty (5=Pikes Peak Ascent, 1=a flat dirt road): 3/5
The hilly moraines were difficult to navigate after bonking but the single track was not overly difficult to run on. The hills did surprise me. Although I enjoyed the shady hills more than the open cornfields. The weather played more of a factor in difficulty than the terrain itself.

Course Scenery (5=engagement proposal backdrop, 1=concrete walls): 4/5
Everything was incredibly green along this trail. Once again, the open cornfields were the only drawback.

Schwag (5=a tech T, embroidered towel & warmup pants, 1=a cotton shirt): 2/5
Got a tech tee and... not much else.

Overall: 3/5
Well done for a debut race.

2014 Free State Trail Marathon

Location: Clinton Lake in Lawrence, KS
Date Run: 4/19/2014, 0800 start
Place: 1 out of 100
Duration: 3:43:25
Average Pace: 8:30
Elevation: ~1000'
Weather: 50-72F
Race Website: http://www.psychowyco.com/id1.html

By mid-April it's mud season in the mountains so I decided it was a good time to get away and continue my slow pursuit of 50 marathons in 50 states. Since moving to Summit County, CO road running has all but completely lost its appeal. For that reason I was stoked to find this trail marathon in Lawrence, KS.

I've done a handful of trail races in the last several years, and the Free State now ranks among the top. It was somewhat of a last moment decision to commit. I attempted to register online before the deadline but the website was not cooperating. Luckily, the race director Ben had provided his personal number on the race page and assured me I could register in person at packet pickup. He was even kind enough to honor the lower online registration price. Perks of a smaller sized event.

Clinton Lake Trail Network

The Race
The distances offered were a 100k, 40 miler, marathon and a half, all of which were run along trails on the north shore of Clinton Lake. In order to spread the runners out, the ultras started at 0700 while the marathon and half started at 0800.  The race started abruptly. Ben essentially said, "We have a great course, it's well marked, marathoners split from the half marathoners early on, rejoin them, and then split off again... sound good? Alright... GO!"

Listening intently to Ben the race director

The first split was after the first mile. ... Aaaaand I completely missed it because I was following closely behind a runner of the half. Fortunately another marathoner I had talked to before the race corrected my error by shouting after me after I'd only proceeded 200' in the wrong direction. There was a race volunteer standing at the split but he wasn't really paying attention. No harm but it could have easily ruined my day had it not been for the other marathoner.

The correct route continued along a cross country ski trail for about a mile before suddenly cutting left directly into the woods off trail. The deviation into the woods was well marked by flagging although I'm sure a few runners thought, 'can this be right?' The race director called this character builder "exfoliation". No joke. I was repeatedly clawed by branches and bushes. It was actually kind of invigorating. After briefly bushwhacking, the route led to a single track trail that quickly crossed a stream. This trail looped around rejoining the original split at about mile 3 and continuing along with the half marathon route.

Typical trail segment with flagging. (Image credit: http://runmoretalkless.blogspot.com)

At this point I was surprised to pass half a dozen (slower) marathoners. Apparently they had somehow gone off route around the bushwhacking bit and shortened it. This really irritated me - having missed the split and then passed marathoners that had clearly cut some corners - so I took off a bit faster than was prudent. I started passing half marathoners asking them if any other marathoners had passed. Before long I realized I was alone in the front so I tried to settle in to a comfortable pace. And the scenery made that easy. There were views of the lake through blooming redbuds as the sun was rising.

Running through a woodchuck nest

The route was moderately rocky with short rolling hills having moderate pitch in general. This was a welcome reprieve from the long steep sustained climbs I'd become used to in the mountains. One section -Red Trail- along the waterfront was more technical with lilypad-like rock hopping. It wasn't made any easier by having to pass half marathoners along this portion but it was enjoyable having to pay close attention to footwork.

The second and final split from the half marathoners at the end of Red Trail about 13 miles into the race was well marked with an aid station. The turnoff provided additional mileage for the marathon and ultra runners. Along this stretch I passed a few ultra runners but by and large the trail opened up with the absence of half marathoners. This segment of the trail looped around to the aid station at the split before continuing on for the final 3 miles to the finish.

Ratings
Race Organization (5=phenomenal, 1=atrocious): 3/5
The start was sudden. Some of the course markings in the beginning were questionable. But for the most part, being an area with a lot of intersecting and interweaving trails, it was remarkably well marked to avoid confusion. There were no mile markers until the very end, making it simultaneously pleasant and painful not knowing where I stood. The aid stations alternated between manned and unmanned. The manned aid stations were fully stocked with HEED, water, gels, candy, fruit, etc. I really liked that runners were required to carry their own hydration containers minimizing waste from once used small cups.

Course Difficulty (5=Pikes Peak Ascent, 1=a flat dirt road): 3/5
The uphill portions were brief and moderately steep. There were a few technical sections, particularly along the Red Trail segment. And the bushwhacking completely off trail was new to me. It was a lot more difficult than I expected but nothing like I've experienced in Colorado.

Course Scenery (5=engagement proposal backdrop, 1=concrete walls): 4/5
A picturesque lake and blooming trees within a clean forested area. The only drawback was the prevalence of close proximity parallel trails interweaving making them feel like they were nearly on top of one another at times.

Schwag (5=a tech T, embroidered towel & warmup pants, 1=a cotton shirt): 4/5
Got a tech tee and... (((drum roll)))... a beer mug. The medal was burly and unique to the marathon distance.

Overall: 4/5
Like I mentioned earlier, one of my favorite trail races despite the early hiccups.