Sorry, no fancy photos. Just words. Probably too many of them. 

Ramblings, Etc.

It's been a few years since I've ran a hundred miler. Spring of 2010 to be exact. I only have 2 hundred mile races under my belt and both were at Massanutten in Virginia. Not the easiest of places to run. Superior isn't either, and I certainly knew that ahead of time from reading a few reports and comments from my friend Angus who has ran this before. In fact, he planted the damn seed to get me up there. He said he always wanted to go back,  not to race or run, but to crew and watch someone else enjoy the course. 

Well, it took me over 3 years to grant him his wish but I finally got there. Finally this year I seemed to find a way to dodge the injury bug that's been chasing me these past few years. After a successful run at the Laurel Highlands Ultra I thought perhaps this was the year that just maybe I could attempt a hundred miler again. I remember that night at Laurel this past June. Upon completing the 70 miler, while I was glad to be done, I thought to myself it was a shame the course wasn't longer as the night phase had just started and I felt I could have kept running through the night and get that 100 mile monkey off my back.

For once I was smart though after Laurel and I gave myself some time. I put the idea of the 100 on the shelf for awhile and took several weeks to recover, a week of vacation where I ran sparingly and spent any of my running time doing short 1-2 hours runs with my dog. I also told my chiro after Laurel that I did not think her manipulations were helping, and my hip/back would likely be better if I just focused on some of the exercises myself. So I did that religiously too.

By the last week of July I had myself back to running on a daily basis but no long runs yet. It had been awhile but my mind was ready again and so was my body. I had begun thinking of the hundred again. A made a list of some late summer, early fall races. Superior topped the list even though it was the closest in terms of preparation time. I felt I had that 70 miler under my belt in June and 3-4 weeks of good training and long runs could get me there. I was trying to pull one over on the injury gods that have plagued me lately by not giving them too much time to track me down. A funny thing happened on the ride to the trail the last week of July for my first return to the 5+ hour long run since Laurel. I switched the radio over to "the 70's on 7"  XM channel and I heard that haunting bridge. The "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" was playing. Like my buddy Angus says, sometimes it just feels like some force somewhere is pulling strings. I had a good run, the strings had been pulled, and I signed up the next week. I was sort of shocked the race hadn't filled yet but I was in.

I should probably get to the race at some point but there is still one more funny story to tell. I enjoy travelling with my friend Angus, and he is great crew. We throw barbs at each other, play name that tune to 70's/80's tunes in 2 notes or less and sort of goof off. He is the more personable one, while I am the calm quiet stoic one. Anyway, he spent quite a bit of time living in Wisconsin and went on and on about midwest pies and how amazing they were. It was almost too much. He kept looking up pie places on the north shore, analyzing online reviews, and had his heart set on something called sour cream raisin pie. So the evening of packet pickup we find ourselves in a place called Betty's Pies in Two Harbors MN. If you could have seen his face when we walked in there and he glanced at the glass enclosed pie display. I was about to comment on the sad looking pies, but thought we were going to make a bee-line out of there until the owner came by and started hawking pies. "Sour cream raisin pie?". No we don't sell that here. It's not a big seller. You should have called ahead. We ordered some pie anyway. Mine was fine, not exceptional. His was the same. I think he wanted to blow the place up or at least leave a horrible review for them on the internet. We get in the car. The puppeteers are at it again and yes this is a true story. Don McClean was singing. Some of you might know it. "So bye bye Miss American Pie". On to the race.

The RACE

The north shore of MN is really beautiful. Lake Superior lurks everywhere. It is huge and dominates the horizon. Cliffs, roaring whitewater, waterfalls, pines, and birches are everywhere. I was going to immerse myself into this environment for much more than a full day. I had sketched out a rather optimistic plan for a 29 hour finish to help me plan drop bags and my crackpot crew. Under 30 might be more realistic, possible, but in retrospect it definitely was. The cutoff here is 38 hours by the way. Even with an optimistic finish time, an 8am start time meant I was going to be running in 2 afternoons. If my time faltered, perhaps through 2 afternoons towards a second evening. It was odd to think of that as my other 100's started very early and I had finished well before noon even with 27-29 hour times.

The race starts at Gooseberry Falls State Park where of course there is the falls and the river, one of many we would be seeing and crossing during the run. At 8am in the morning it was already quite warm. I had on the TrailDawgs singlet to represent but honestly should have just ran shirtless the entire day. I ditched the singlet at the first crew access point, aid station 2 Beaver Bay around mile 20. To give you an idea of the warmth of the day, I never put on a shirt again. I was always hot, warm, and sweaty.

My first view of the great lake during the run was just a few miles into the race when the trail popped out of the woods onto a rocky limestone slab and I promptly stumbled, fell, and drew some nice blood on my knee. The blood looked particularly fine by the second aid station as it had ran down my leg and coagulated nicely. Looked much worse than it was of course. The first 2 sections went along right according to plan and there were some very nice parts of trail winding around the gushing Split Rock River. I started to realize the theme of the day would be to meander the rocky ridge lines, then wander back down along the river gorges with their temptation of refreshment on a warm hot day. There was a particularly nice section of trail during the Beaver Bay part of the course. It just seemed gentle and an easy grade and I was feeling particularly good and passing a lot of runners. Of course, this was followed by a nasty rock hopping section where several of those same people hopped along like goats while I picked my way along. Geez, I am not representing the state of PA very well. These first 2 sections were quite long, nearly 10 miles apiece on average and my 2 handhelds were just getting me through. Angus was there at Beaver River and after topping off my bottles with ice, water, and Gatorade he gingerly accepted the stinky singlet from my back. The race was providing Heed, and I was having no more of that after a near GI incident an hour ago after swilling a cup at the first aid station. Hurrah for crew with cold Gatorade.

The third section of the course, from Beaver Bay to Silver Bay was under 5 miles but it seemed to take way too long to cover. There was a never ending series of small ups and downs (mostly ups) that were very steep and rocky and nearly impossible to run in either direction. There were some nice views of the towns and lake but one had to be careful so as to not trip and fall off a ledge. The section was also exposed to the sun and with the temps above 80 it felt very hot. I came out of that section and Angus mentioned I looked to be a mess. I didn't feel that bad but had nearly drained 2 bottles in 5 miles and still felt parched. He had an ice cold bottle of Gatorade there and I swilled the entire thing before leaving. He kept saying "Drink up drink up it's hot", so I did. I grabbed a few pbj's and hit the trail again. Heard my first Viking horn of the day here.  I glanced at my watch upon leaving and noticed time was slipping away from me at the aid stations but overall I was still on track. 

Angus had warned me the section to Tettagouche was really exposed and also quite long. Nearly 10 miles to the next aid. Take it easy he said. So I walked anything that felt like a hill for the first few miles and just took in the views of the lake and the north woods from the lime stone bluffs. The trail eventually wound up high on top of steep cliffs with view of Bear and Bean Lakes. Amazing wow type scenery. Sure it's not the wide open west but spectacular none the less. After the lakes the trail really changed and went under the tree cover and began a nice gentle downhill grade. I woke up here and started making ground on those who passed me earlier. Told people as I went by, "hey sorry, but I'm feeling good now and better run while I can". There was another steep climb midway here but afterwards more sweet downhill trail was the reward. I felt back in the game and when I hit the Tettagouche aid station Angus mentioned I looked pretty good compared to many of the runners. I wasted a bit too much time at this aid station but they had some hot food here and I had sort of entered the mindset of moving along with the field, take care of myself, and not worry about minutes so much.

Section 5 might have been my favorite. It started with an easy run down a smooth trail to the Baptism River then a series of wooden steps and bridge across and alongside the gorge. It's not that I like wooden steps, but the falls and the river were quite scenic. There were many climbs here but I was feeling strong and energized. Portions of the climbs were even runnable at times but there was one particularly steep ascent where I saw two other runners take a break to sit down on a rock. I had a few Jesus moments here when I'd pop out of the of the woods and see the Superior 1,000 feet below me rising out into the horizon merging with sky seemingly as high as I was on the top of the mountain. I'd mutter Jesus that is beautiful out loud. Evening was settling in and the world seemed calm and when the trail allowed my running felt good. Only the last part of this section got on my nerves as I heard the Viking horn, could see the next aid station from up high on a ridge but could tell there would be a long round about way of getting there. Coming off the ridge there was even one more steep rocky climb thrown in for good measure before popping out on county road 6 and getting in a quarter mile of road running before the next aid. This was the first of my 2 drop bag locations so I settled in for a bit with some food, replenished my gels, salt tab stash, grabbed my lights, and took care of things that needed to get done (ie lubed up!). I met forumite Scrapster here for the first time. I took stock of my race and knew the plan had me here at 6:40pm and I was 40 minutes late. It seemed a bit odd, as I still felt really good and solid and had passed a number of runners in the last section but I guess it's just a very hard course and oh yeah it's still hot out and dusk has fallen. I talked with Angus about joining me at the next aid station as a pacer as I could probably use the company and some assistance to keep my near sighted self from wandering off a cliff at night.

I headed down the trail with night coming but held off with the light for at least a mile or two. The trail would pop into the woods, out to a limestone bluff where there'd be more light again and again. Finally I hit a downhill part of trail and it just became too dark so on went the light. That certainly helped and put me to running again. The trail here was pretty flat relative to much of the course and even with night fully developing the woods the running was pretty good. I remember one very cool part from this section. The trail popped out into the open and crossed a backwoods pond or small lake on a series of wooden planks. Stars above, water and weeds on both sides. I walked gingerly to be sure to stay on the planks. It seemed a place that the Creature from the Black Lagoon would have felt at home. For much of this section I had 2 runners right behind me. I'd hear their voices get closer and I'd speed up just a bit but they always caught back up. It was sort of a mini-goal to keep them at bay. I guess I must be anti-social or something but more than halfway through we crossed a dirt road and I caught a rock or root and tumbled down. They were on and past me after that so I sort of missed out on that goal. At least though they were by me and I had the silence of the night and the woods as I made my way into Finland, the halfway point.

After some food (mashed potatoes, oh my they are good during an ultra) Angus joined me and we hit the trail. We stumbled upon the runners from the previous section and they stayed with us for quite awhile. I made pretty decent time in this section according to my plan, but I had accounted for much slowness at night, and this was mostly a twisty stagger through the woods with constant ducking under small pine branches and hopping around rocks and roots. I think I mentioned Lord of the Rings here. One of the forests in the book, dark and unforgiving. Angus cracked a few jokes to the guys behind us and once he mentioned arm panties I think they had enough of us and they wandered off. The Sonju Lake aid station was a bit disappointing as they had grill issues and no hot food. They did have a fire though but I had no desire to sit and waste time. We left there pretty quickly and made our way down the trail to the loud sounds of gushing water. I was having trouble moving again and had also noted an odd pain in my left foot. Sort of down by the ankle, but smack dab in the middle between the two bones near the top of the foot. I had been noticing this for awhile but it hadn't gotten worse so I shrugged it off for now. The moving thing I soon discovered was my headlamp dimming due to battery drain. I had a pretty bright light, but I had read at the highest setting it would start to drain after 2-3 hours. Once I reloaded with fresh batteries the trail lit up like day and I was cruising again. We made good time from there and I even felt like I threw in some nice split times for this far into the race and it being night time, especially on the dirt road into the Crosby Manitou aid station. I sort or raced a crew car up a tiny hill there at the end. About a 100k into the race now and it's around 1:45am. This place made up for the hot food missing at the last aid station. They had soup, burgers, pizza, quesadillas, a lot of good stuff. I probably wasted too much time eating but this next part of the course was suppose to be the signature tough part or so I was told and felt it best to eat up. I still was not cold and running shirtless and sort of annoyed the heck out of some pacer who was considering a jacket when I told him it was too warm for even a shirt. Not for those of us crewing he shot back. Um, ok. I still bet it's too warm for a jacket.

The section started off pretty easy but soon turned into a very steep rocky descent to the Caribou River. Yes, loud gushing water again. We made slow time going down and coming back up the other side seemed like the steepest section of trail yet. Looking at the elevation chart, it doesn't look like much, but in reality and in the darkness it was very difficult at first. Eventually we popped out into what appeared to be open areas though it was hard to tell at night. We turned off our lamps and stared up into the sky. It made me dizzy and at first you could not see the stars, but then the eyes adjusted and they popped out as bright pins of light in the blackness. We did that a few times during this section and despite the dizziness it was awesome. Despite a very slow time for this section I felt really good overall except for that nagging pain in the left ankle. We passed a few runners here, ran when I could, walked when I couldn't and just sort of got through the 10 miles though it seemed to take forever. I coined it the never ending section. There would be more of these I'd find out. We entered Sugarloaf aid station just before sunrise and one could see the tinges of light and sunrise starting to creep up the horizon to the east. I'd call this aid station grim. There was a runner passed out like a mummy on a chair next to me, another one bundled up with blankets complaining of split toenails and I was confused about everyone's coldness as I was still very warm. I had a drop bag here with shirts but did not opt for one. Another hot day was nearly dawning if I remembered the forecast correctly. We looked at my ankle here and once I felt it I knew there was a problem. It was very swollen and I couldn't figure out why. I hadn't rolled it or done anything of the sort. Angus wrapped it up with some medical tape, I put on fresh socks, had some food and got out of there before the reaper claimed us. Angus was going to pace one more section with me and then try to work his way back to the car.

Heading out of Sugarloaf the best I could do was walk. I had sat too long and my newly wrapped left ankle felt tight and funny. I almost stopped and yanked the tape right off but decided to let it go for awhile. The sun had risen and finally the headlamps went off. I'd like to say it improved my mood and my running but probably just slightly. As we made our way along the trail I heard one of the viking horns again but it seemed far away and distant. Heck, it might not have even been from our next aid station as it seemed to take forever to get there. Another never ending section even though it was a short one. We crossed a bridge and Angus muttered something about the aid station not being too far away but he turned out to be a liar. It was the third or fourth bridge where this turned out to be true. Dang, I forgot to bust on him for that! A few times during this section I got ticked off and managed to find a running gear but it was mostly slow plodding until we approached the Cramer Road aid station. The marathon race started here in about 40 minutes. I managed to run into the aid station, treated myself to some eggs and bid Angus good bye for now. Angus asked some guys if they were going back to Finland where his car was and they said no, and pointed back down the trail where we had just come from. I thought that poor form. I knew he'd work his way back though. He is good with people dammit!

My run down to Temperance (mile 84.9) turned out to be a pretty decent section. I actually beat the section time from my race plan this late into the race, though of course the plan was adjusted for the inevitable slowdown. It was pretty much all downhill with a few short steep climbs out of the riverbed. I had a nice distraction too which was to see how long I could hold off the lead marathoners with a 36 minute head start. It turned out that it took them 46 minutes to catch me meaning a was likely well past halfway done with this 7.1 mile section. Another good thing is my wrapped left ankle had stopped being so bothersome but unfortunately a similar pain in the exact same place started to happen to my right ankle. Like the other foot, it was mild an manageable at first but would eventually worsen. This was a very scenic part of the course as the trail pretty much followed the Temperence River down the mountain towards Lake Superior, and the sounds of rushing water, the sight of rapids and waterfalls made it quite pleasant. The weather was starting to warm up again though and when I reached the aid station a volunteer placed an ice cold towel on my back and I must have been on fire as the cooling relief dissipated in mere seconds. No Angus here as crew so I headed out with ice water only and made my way down the trail towards the river crossing and Carlton Peak.

The early morning surge was over and now I had marathon racers going by me at an alarming rate. They were all pretty much very nice and encouraging and I sort of chuckled inside when I heard them grunt and groan on the steeper parts of the Carlton Peak climb. It was the biggest single climb of the day, but started off gentle and easy, before finishing on a sort of horrendous steep rocky on all fours sort of climb at the very end. I had some bad thoughts here about my ankles. They both seemed sort of useless and what if I broke down right here right now. How stupid would it be that someone would have to come shuffle me off the mountain. Yes, bad place time. I made it over obviously and shortly thereafter some hikers came by and one of them said "nice job runners" and I replied back "Um, I have moved beyond running now". I thought it a good line and it got a few chuckles. Another hiker said 2 miles to go to the next aid station and that brightened my mood as well. I thought it was further and turned out he was right, maybe even calling it a bit long. I somehow shuffled into Sawbill aid at 90+ miles and Angus finally caught up with me. Said he missed me by a few minutes at Temperance and I had made good time here as well. It was nice to hear but I told him both my ankles were now shot and I was reduced to walking with surges of shuffling. If it had been earlier in the race, I would probably drop but I was too close now so after fueling up out I went again.

Two more sections to go, 12.5 miles, probably 4-5 hours now at my hiking shuffling pace. I was sort of glad to have the company of the slower trail marathoners even though most of them zipped past me. It was sort of both odd and fun. They'd often look back at my bib (color coded for the different races), though I think mostly they could tell by how I was moving that I was a hundred miler, and mutter nice things. I returned the favor. Running the marathon here doesn't look easy either. I lost a lot of time here and places in the race as some hundred mile runners passed me as well. I was reduced to a walker because of my ankles. It really sort of sucked as this section looked pretty fast overall. The weak ankles led to misplaced footsteps and a few insignificant blisters added to the fun with all the slipping and sliding. I was so ready to be done but the best I could do was short jogging surges. Getting 5.5 miles to the next aid took forever but of course I got there. Angus was still out here crewing bless his heart but damn he must be as bushed as me. He had some more cold Gatorade for me with ice and after sucking down 2 gels and pouring a quart of ice cold water on my head and back I said I am ready to go.

Angus wanted to go out on the last section with me even though I told him there would be little to no running. I was just going for the finish now. It sort of pissed me off in away but I just could not run. We tagged along with some marathon dude who was doing this as a last long run for the Twin Cities Marathon. I found it odd road marathon training, but honestly I suppose he will be super strong mentally after this. I grunted and muttered curses often during this section, especially on those steep rocky descents. The climb up Moose Mountain. God it was steep and felt awful but at least it was not a jarring downhill. A girl running the marathon stopped halfway up while I went by. I wasn't stopping for nothing. Go slow. Sure. No stopping. The girl passed me shortly after we topped out on the ridge and I joked at her that it was poor form to pass me on the flats. Have some sympathy girl! So yeah, it was hard, I hurt but in a way I was still taking in the experience with a decent frame of mind. Angus kept telling me there was one more climb after Moose Mountain and dang he was right but the trail gods were good and provided switchbacks. I thought I might run some after that last climb but the ankles, the blisters all made it pointless. I'd take a few steps and cringe. I was going to save whatever I had for the final mile which I knew was on an easier connector trail then a dirt and paved road to the finish. Getting to the connector trail took a long time. Another never ending section.

We got there though of course and I started running. I felt I was running hard and fast. I passed a few people. Angus muttered that I'd been shagging it. Ha. Yes. I expected no less. It hurt like the dickens though as both my ankles were on fire and then the dirt path/road started to jog up hill and I cussed and started walking again. The hill ended quickly and I got pissed off at myself again and said this is the last mile dammit run it in and even though it hurt I pushed on. It did not feel good but it felt the right thing to do. Some couple I passed said it was still a ways to go and I did an inner eye roll. A long ways to go? I've been at it for 32+ hours, over 102 miles with less than a mile left. There is not a long way to go. The paved road toward the end hurt but it didn't really matter. Stopping would happen soon enough. Into the resort I finally came, lots of people hanging out, kids doing normal things like splashing in a pool while a half naked battered grand master runs it in. There were clapping and cheers. I finished. I saw and covered the whole damn course and most of it felt pretty damn good. Someone shook my hand and gave me a wooden coin that I could exchange for some swag. Not the race time I wanted but the finish today is where it's at. Tough day, tough course. It's been awhile. Way too long.

If you hung in there, thanks. If not, that's ok. I think more than 50% of the field dropped as well because of the heat. Props to those of us who made it. Heck, props to those of us who tried.

Great job, and thanks for sharing!

How are your ankles doing now? I believe my feet will be the limiting factor in any long runs I do in the future as well.

Very nice XT! I've wondered what you've been up to. Congrats on the 100!

XT-- Couple of comments:

1. Betty's Pies is a tourist trap.  The better pies are in Duluth and Grand Marais.  I'll send you a list for next year.
2. Lake Superior is magical and has lured many to their death.  You captured the beauty and challenges of this trail nicely- thank you.
3. The 'creature from the black lagoon' was filmed on the north shore, and it escaped shortly after filming,
4. This is one serious race (Congratulations on a great finish!!)

Thanks all for the comments.

Chnaiur - Ankles are still a bit sore. I suspect I overdid the salt because of the heat and that caused me to retain fluids and it went to my feet, caused them to swell, and put pressure on some tendons down there. I believe the extensor tendons are the culprit based on the pain and swelling location. I am doing better though.

RuntrailDC - yeah, that betty's pies looked like a trap to me plus it was managed by a guy not Betty. I will have to tell my friend he blew it!

Great job toughing it out XT, and the words are more than enough to give me the visuals I need.  An excellent report..I read the whole thing, and could feel your pain.

Why is it that a story of hours of  pain and suffering makes me want to try the same thing??

Lace_up - The trail reminded me of a mix of MMT, Virgil Crest, and Laurel Highlands. The rocks of MMT, but smaller more frequent climbs. The roots of Virgil Crest, and some nice sections that I could run in the woods like Laurel. 21k of elevation gain, hardrock qualifier, it's pretty tough. I'd put it a smidgeon harder than MMT.

jbyram2 - Ha. That means you are a sicko like the rest of us.

ATRunner - I did see Prarie Runner out there too. Angus is pretty good with people like I said, and found someone to give him a ride. The section he paced, did not take long to get back to by car.

I still think that's an awesome finishing time, considering the heat.  I think you'd go sub-30 on a better day.  Really excellent report, XT!  I could picture it all.  I also found myself gazing at Lake Superior and couldn't determine where the lake ended and the sky began sometimes.  Last year Scrapster and I crossed that wooden plank lake during the dead of the night in the darkness.  I kept picturing Nessie pulling me into the water.  I don't know if there's anything you could have done to prevent the ankle issues.  Those roots just fuck you up.  I hopefully plan on being up there next year -- not sure doing what -- but I just love the North Shore.

I am curious how this compares to Laurel Highlands?  That's one of my bucket list must do races someday.

Also I have lots of pretty pictures if you want to steal any.