Notes
I heard some good things about this race before I registered. Heard it was not super hilly but had some technical climbs. I checked out previous race results on ultrasignup then the elevation map and figured 8:30 was a reasonable goal if temps cooperated, e.g. below 70. In retrospect that was pretty unreasonable, but on to the race.
Race day morning I had my usual breakfast of oatmeal and my new habit of redbull. I had arranged for a cab to pick me up and got to the lobby to find him waiting at 5:00 AM sharp. Got to the race start area and was the first one there besides some volunteers. Got my drop bags ready and waited an hour for the race to start. The RD explained the course markings and then played the star spangled banner and we were off. Starting temp was about 60 degrees.
The first loop is approximately 11 miles of rolling hills, sand, pine needles and few rocks a roots. This should have been the fastest loop but I followed a group who went the wrong way and we lost about five minutes. I got pretty far behind and not much room for passing on the narrow single track. Once i got an open stretch I passed about five people at what must have seemed to them like an all out sprint. I few more miles go by and I passed three more .At the end of that loop we went back to the start and I threw off my singlet as I was already getting hot. The next four miles were fairly similar to Ice Age trail, rolling hills though mostly downhill, some rocks and roots. We crossed the road to the next aid station at about 16 miles in and then up what seemed like 300 stairs to sugarloaf mountain. We got to the top for a breath taking view of Lake Superior, the city of Marquette, and all of the woods we would be running through. Maybe it was adrenaline but the colors were incredible, shimmering blue water below, miles of the greenest trees you can imagine, hot ball of yellow sun to the east, all while you are standing on top of a boulder 30 feet wide.
Two other runners were just starting to being the descent when I got to the top and I once again followed them and went off course. The flags had us going off the trail at this point (basically going up huge boulders that looked less like mountain peaks than 20-30 foot wide marbles). We lost another few minutes before we realized we were supposed to go down boulders that looked like the edge of a cliff. We scaled down those, then wound our way down the mountain through rocks and steep elevation. Finally got to the bottom and ran along Lake Superior for 4 or so miles with amazing views of little presque island, orange/red clay cliffs along the lake, and beautiful sand beaches. I passed another four people in this stretch. Got to the next aid station at 21 miles and dumped my fuel belt as every aid station so far had plenty of gels. Ran about a quarter mile and then started the climb up hogsback mountain. I passed another three people climbing up hogsback and got to the top. This climb was not really trail as much as following trail markers tied to stacked rocks while navigating from boulder to boulder. More amazing views and from the top it appears there are cliffs on every side. Went back down the other side which was steep but with enough dirt stretches that you could half run it. Finally got to the bottom and ran about a mile and hit the next aid station. Started back out on the trail for about two miles of trail and the another climb up to "top of the world". This was by far the most difficult climb up so far. Not just boulders to scale but some of the rock faces narrow and sharp with no room for mistakes. I caught up to the fourth place 50 miler at the top and we stopped to catch our breath. On the way down we saw the leader on his way back up for his final loop. Once we got to a runnable stretch I passed 2nd and 3rd place 50 milers and about three 50Kers.
On my way back to the start everything hurt, my Achilles, calf muscle, hip adductors and abductors and I wasn't sure I could make it another 20 plus miles. I pretty much resigned to dropping at the 50k point. Ran into the start aid station and my wife and kids are there chearing me on. They tell me I'm in second place, then another couple people tell me this. All thoughts of dropping are gone. I give hugs to my daughters who exclaim: "daddy you're sweaty, yuch" which they say while laughing. I grab so gels, slam some pop, refill my hand held and head back out to do the last 20 mile loop in reverse. Five minutes from the aid station I trip on a root and get a nice dirt bath. I am pretty much covered from head to tow in dirt from that one spill.
The climb back up top of the world was brutal and my legs started to cramp on the way down. Runners are telling me I look great but I am not sure how I a going to run another 17 plus miles. I get to the aid station at 36 miles and the volunteers are great. They refill my water, dump ice in my hand held and tell me I am doing amazing. Just that little bit of encouragement gets my head back in the game and I continue on. Another two miles of running and I get to the climb up hogsback. It seems worse going the reverse direction and I am randomly cramping while I climb. Finally get to the top and only pause for a second to see the view again. Back down is easier but it is hard for me to run while dodging rocks and roots by this point so am walking anything technical down the mountain.
I get to the aid station at 41 miles and know I only have one more climb about five miles away. The next stretch is flat but everything is cramping. I manage to run most of the way but technical sections force me to walk as my calves are cramping just picking up my feet more than five inches off the ground. I enjoy the views of Lake Superior until I get to this amazing beach. There are people hanging out, swimming, and picnicking 20 feet away while I am covered in dirt, overheated (it was 80 degrees at this point) and cramping from having just run 44 miles with seven more to go. It was like adding insult to injury.
Finally I get to the base of sugarloaf and the climb up is steep and rocky with lots on all fours. I get to the top and there is more cheering. They shout only 4 miles to go once I get to the bottom. Then I get to the stairs. Every step down jars my calves and hip muscles sending them into cramps ever ten or so steps. By the time I get down those 300 stairs I can't take a step without cramping. Finally I manage a shuffle into the aid station. They ask how I am doing and I say I'm not sure I'm going to make it. (I'm really serious this time.) They tell me only four miles left, I'm in second, I can do this. Fine, I think as I shuffle up the hill. Once I cross the road everything seizes up again. I can't even move as my muscles are locked up tight. I am stuck grabbing a tree for about 5 minutes trying to get the cramp in my legs to loosen. I am ready to crawl back to the aid station and drop when finally the muscles loosen again. I start to shuffle then bam another seize up. Another couple minutes and they loosen again.
Finally I am able to slowly walk without cramping, a slight jog and they seize up again. A half mile from the aid station I am ready to turn around and give up but the thought of hobbling half a mile back to the aid station is as bad as hobbling 3.5 miles to the finish. I continue this way for two miles until I am able to "run" again. A lot of people talk about dark patches during a race. Despite the incredible suffering I was experiencing, there was never any "darkness" during this period. Just the very clear reality that every hurt beyond what I felt I could endure but that if I quit I would not be a finisher, I would not have a chance to finish 2nd OA, I would probably regret the decision for years. The long term regret would be worse than the short term pain. I did somewhere during this point decide running 100 miles would be the stupidest thing I will ever attempt.
The last two miles I am looking over my shoulder waiting for someone to come charging up behind me but it never happens. Finally I see some 50kers on their way in and I know I am within two miles. Another excruciating fifteen or so minutes and I see the finish. I am directed to loop around for one last out and back to the finish. Finally I see the finish and my wife and kids are cheering me on. I finish in 9:58 in second place. My wife and kids are screaming and I have absolutely nothing left. I manage a pat on the head to my kids then stumble aimlessly looking for something to stop the feeling of hunger, nausea, pain, and euphoria all colliding within my fried neurons.