The last few years I have been more passionate about running than riding. Maybe I'm just burnt out on mountain biking when it comes to racing, because I still love to ride. I just have not had that fire in my belly for MTB racing. Trail running though, I have visions of doing all sorts of crazy races and training sessions. I just hope my body can keep up with the sh** that goes on in my head.
For my sixth time racing Marji I decided to tap into the 50-mile run. I had been registered for the Duathlon for a third year in a row, but changed my mind over the summer, sold my registration, and snagged a run registration. After having completed the Burning River 100 at the end of July, I thought this would be a good second test of my nutrition plan and ability to handle many hours on my feet. My hope was to be close to a 14-hour finish but was prepared for 16 hours. I really do love the vibe of the race, the shenanigans of the race directors, and the trails and area are beautiful. Well ... most of the trails, not all of the trails.
As usual I made my annual pilgrimage into Michigan after a half day of work on Wednesday, stayed in a hotel near the Mackinaw bridge, and completed the drive Thursday morning. The owners of the AirBNB were kind enough to let me in early so that I could get settled and do a short run after being in the car for a number of hours. My legs felt heavy at the start of the run, but after a couple miles loosened up and were feeling great. Near the end of the run I made my way to the top of Jaspers Knob to enjoy the view because at the end of the race, at least for me, it's always dark and other than a Todd manikin and a pumpkin it's too dark to see anything.
For my race plan I built out a detailed spreadsheet of all of the food and fluids I would be consuming, provided my stomach stayed in good working order. The plan had me consuming 50g carbs per hour and while I know that is on the low end, I'm working my way up to 60-90 per hour and I would honestly be surprised if I could eat everything that I had planned. Sodium was anywhere from 500mg to 1000mg per hour and fluids were as much as I could drink throughout the race. The pic is one example of my race plan, specifically the first time through Jackson Park. I broke the race up into four sections; start to Worst AS (~15-mile), Worst AS to Jackson Park (~5-miles), Jackson Park back to Jackson Park (~23 miles), Jackson Park to the Finish (~19-miles).
Race day weather was looking fantastic for a second year in a row. No complaints from me and even if it rained, I was running so I had no need to stress about having to ride wet rocks or roots. I had a nice cup of my favorite coffee, Christopher Bean, as my wake me up and get'yer butt moving jet fuel along with a Vafel w/ Chai Smash Jam (my new favorite pre-run fuel) and for a half avocado.
The sun rise had a gorgeous orange glow as it rose up over the lake near Marquette at the start line. There were roughly 50 runners, and after a quick warm up jog I chatted with a few to pass the time. One was running his first Marji, a 19-year-old I believe, and his crew was with him. Talking with them at the start actually paid dividends later in my race. 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... and we were off, albeit a slightly quieter start due to the noise ordinance still in effect. The start is a very nice and easy 1.5 miles along a paved path before turning towards Marquette Rd for the first climb and likely the longest sustained climb of the day.
Everyone was in great spirits, and I am guessing I was around top ten. I did not really care where I was in the pecking order, but rather focusing on how I felt, made sure to not push hard this early in the race, and grabbed food as we would hike and run sections of the climb that were runnable so that we would not smoke our legs right out of the gate. Before I knew it, we were crossing under the bridge near the ski resort a few miles in and already there was community support, Trail Angels, ready to give a helping hand. Man, I love this community!! Now that we entered the trails I was settling in. While I don't mind paved sections or gravel roads, I get bored quickly and look forward to the rocks, roots, and twisty nature of trails. The challenge was now to see how far I could make my way through the course before the 50-mile mountain bikers would catch up. The 50-mile MTB race started one hour after the trail runners. Why do they do that?? My guess is this is another one of Todd's F**kery. It would just be way too easy for the MTBers to start before the runners. I settled into the trails with a group of ladies that were moving at a good clip but not too terribly fast. It was probably faster than I would normally start, however, with the MTBers being on our tail soon, I didn't want to waste any time making my way through this section before the trail opened up before Jackson Park. Once 8am rolled around we had run just over 6-miles, so I fully anticipated the lead group of MTBers to reach us in 40-minutes. I made it 10-miles, to the bottom of Freak of Nature and just as I turned on the very short gravel road, the lead racers came zipping by. What absolute perfect timing because there was a ton of room on the gravel road for the lead group to blow by me. By the time I made the left hand turn up the Lame trail, I had no riders behind me, sweet!! The next small batch of riders that caught me was just before a short, rooty and loose climb up to Country Rd HJ. I went to the extreme right to give them as much room as possible and ran up the climb passed a few of the riders having to push their bikes. Once up onto the country road I maintained an extreme right position so as to not be in the way of the group of riders zipping past me. I was always checking my six though because I know full well not all riders will ride heads up and I didn't want to end up in the hospital with tire tracks up my back side.
After making my way to the Worst Aid Station, I stopped to fill up my bottles and grab more food since I had eaten everything I had in my front pockets. I was planning on a stop here at 15-miles in so was really hoping my bet would pay off that they would be here again this year. A couple of the female runners that I had left behind were catching up, but no worries there. I'm racing the clock, not anyone else. I took off down the road which was easy running at this point and made my way to the sandy sections. The sand is sole sucking on a bike, but I found it to be not too terrible for running. I figured it would be like running on a beach, but honestly it was firm enough to not sink and loose enough to be soft on the feet. All I needed was an umbrella and a cold salted rim margarita and I could have set up camp for the rest of the day. I stayed quite aware of the riders coming up behind me and I always gave them the most firm and best line choice to try and help them out. If that meant running on less-than-ideal terrain, then so be it. I wasn't into making my race easy on myself, but I know what it is like to ride through the sand and it's no Sunday picnic. Several times the bikers had to dismount and push their bike through the really thick, soft sand and I just floated across giving them encouragement along the way. A few times the riders that were paying attention thanked me as they passed because they knew I was giving them the best possible line choice. I really appreciated the kind remarks and told them so. I made my way to the long double track that leads to Jackson Park. This is one section that I was dreading. Sure, it is easy running, but it is flipping mindless. Long, straight and flat. #shootme I much prefer twisty, rooty, rocky, and climby. For me this flat stuff takes more mental fortitude than any other sections in the race. Ok, excluding perhaps Cry Baby and Deer Shit trails. Those are pure evil! As often as I could I found myself running on the grass alongside the trail. I much prefer the softer grass than the pounding of the pavement. It might be a little slower, but my feet prefer the soft ground.
As Jackson Park came into site I took a sigh of relief. I made it here well under my predicted time of 4-5 hours and had reached JP in 3-hours and 49-minutes for the first 20.5 miles. Hmmmm .... me thinks I may have pushed a little too hard. This will probably bite me later on. First section down and it was time to get my drop bag and load back up for the RAMBA trails. The drop bag volunteers were quick to get me my bag and fortunately for me I was right next to a garbage can which was perfect for throwing out food wrappers and empty water bottles as I re-filled my bottles. I downed a container of my favorite Ramen Noodles (thanks to Carey for pointing me off to these years ago!!!!), drank nearly a full bottle of plain water, refilled my rear vest pouch with the food that would sustain me for the next 23-miles and was all set to go. I decided to take my poles for the remainder of the race. I had thought perhaps I would make it the second pass through JP w/o poles but decided to be cautious and take them with me. It ended up being the right decision. The poles just save so much energy and it will give me more legs later on in the race. I did consider switching out my shoes as well, because I was running in a lower stack shoe for the first section. Decided to keep what I had on but would reconsider switching from Hoka Challengers to the Hoka Speedgoats on my second pass through JP. That was probably not the best decision of the day. Lesson learned I suppose.
All set for the next 23 miles, I was off and running. This next section I broke down into three smaller sub-sections. The first 9-10 miles before the first crossing of Malton Rd. The second sub-section of 8.5 miles to the second crossing of Malton Rd, and the final sub-section of 4.5 miles back to Jackson Park. The nice thing about these sub-sections is that they get shorter. A great mental boost as you knock of each one. By this time I'm having to deal with the MTBers every few minutes. It wasn't too terrible, especially on the short technical climbs because I would use my poles to propel my way up and passed them rather quickly, but that also meant I was blowing through matches every time I did it. Still, it was a hoot to run past them as if they were standing still. Some in fact were literally standing still taking a break. When I approached the first crossing of Malton Rd I came upon a gentleman just before the trail dumped onto the road and he offered me any assistance along with free water. Ummm ... yes please!! We got to chatting and he was crewing for a runner, his girlfriend who I likely ran with for a while near the start of the race. He offered to take any empty bottles I had (yes, I stashed my own water in the woods the day before because I'm not stupid, I had no crew, and I never trust that Trail Angels will be where I need them to be. Also know that I NEVER leave trash in the woods!). He was wonderfully helpful and from that time on I saw him many more times along the way where he always offered me assistance and gave me some encouraging words. As I started moving again, I mixed up some Tator Boost mashed potatoes just before I headed back out into the next section. Ate about half of the packet and stuffed the rest into my front pocket to munch on in another 30-minutes. The trail turned up which meant the MTBers that I heard behind me slowed down and I was able to keep ahead of them this time. There were a couple riders that I let by but soon was passing them when the steep, rooty, loose switch backs kept punching them in the face. We had a good laugh about this back-and-forth situation, but I knew full well that this was what the rest of my race would entail.
The temperatures were starting to get warmer and I was getting thirstier, so before I dropped down into the woods again and before I would likely not see anyone for at least an hour, I decided to take advantage of another Trail Angel that offered me water. They barely had to top off one of my front bottles, but I wanted to take full advantage and not get stuck with no fluids. I did this a few times before crossing Malton Rd for the second time. As I made my way into the next trail I could hear what sounded like buzzing above me. A MTB racer I was passing commented that he thought it was a drone. He was right! When the trail got a bit technical, he slowed down to dismount his bike and I thought to myself, if they are recording me this would be a great time to fire up another climb and maybe look like I knew what I was doing. Sweet! Maybe I will get some race footage. Not a minute later I heard a rider coming up behind me, so I got over, it was my natural instinct at this point, and who comes flying up behind me but none other than Jeremiah Bishop! He was working hard! He made a couple comments and I cheered him on like a child cheering on one of their favorite heroes, and he was out of site in no time, other than when he wrapped around the trail on the other side of me and I caught another glimpse of poetry in motion. Man .... I'm an idiot. Who would be recording me?? Of course the drone was recording the race leaders. #doublefacepalm A number of minutes later and Matt Acker comes flying by, making his effort look effortless with a big smile on his face giving encouragement to me along my journey that would take WAY more hours than his 100-mile race. Such a great guy and an incredible mountain biker! Finally made my way to the second Malton Rd crossing and who do I see? The guy that I had met at the very start of the race who was crewing the 19-year-old runner. He helped me with filling up my bottles, offered me more water or food, and he took my empty bottles and trash. I would see him as well as the other gentleman time and time again. They were both great and such a warm welcome for someone that was crewless and "soloing" the race. I was about to eat more of the food that I brought with me but was surprised to see that I had eaten nearly everything I had packed!! What?!?! This has never happened to me in a race, where I actually eat everything. I had one pouch of GoGo applesauce but that was more for possible stomach issues, and I was a little nervous about eating it and then having to make a run for the woods. So, the next hour or so I went off of fluids alone.
The last 4.5 mile sub-section section of the 23-mile loop is one of the hardest in the race as it includes Sissy Pants Trail with a few gnarly steep climbs, one nasty rock garden, quickly followed by the Hamptons Trail which is the final throat punch before dropping back into Jackson Park. No, not the popular seaside resort Hamptons, but the one that pulls off your legs and beats you senseless with them, a few times. After the beating at the Hamptons, then comes Cheese Grater and at the bottom of Cheese Grater your home free to Jackson Park. Things got quite slow through the Hamptons and Cheese Grater due to all the walking that the MTBers were doing. I was started to get frustrated and while some would let me through, some were a bit disconnected with reality at this point and not thinking straight. I can't blame them with being tired of course. I was starting to feel the impact on my feet and regretting my decision not to switch out my shoes to my Speedgoats. Rider after rider I was passing only to have to get over again on the descents to let them by. Finally got to the bottom of Cheese Grater and made my way along the Iron Ore Heritage Trail to my second passing through of Jackson Park. Yippee!! Only 19 more miles to go, but at this point I was ten hours into the race. One thing that I had hoped would happen is that I would be able to cover both passes through JP faster than when I completed the Duathlon, but for whatever reason it still took me 6-hours to complete the 23-mile loop. What gives man??? My second time through JP I took more time to make sure I had everything I needed before heading towards the finish line. I gobbled up the second container of Ramen Noodles, ate some vegan chicken nuggets, and downed more plain water. Refilled both bottles, repacked my solid fuel into the back of my vest and made the easy decision to change my shoes. My feet where aching at this point and I needed any relief that I could get.
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| Not my pic, but definitely captured the beauty of the sunset. |
Grabbed my poles and headlamp, gave my drop bag back to the volunteers and headed off for the final section that I knew was going to end in the dark. The question in my mind was, how far could I get before needing my head lamp. I could tell immediately that my shoe change was the best decision. My feet got some relief from the pounding due to the higher stack of the Speedgoats and the stiffer sole. Awesome. This improved my mental headspace instantaneously.
The final section can be broken down into a number of sub-sections all ending with a crossing of Clif Dr. Clif Dr. is the back road that trails start and end on which makes it ridiculously easy for crews to support their participants and for Trail Angels to lend a helping hand. One of the first trails in this section, that I have always struggled with is Dirty Mary. It's this long, lumpy, switch-backy trail that is a total grind. Even on the MTB it is not a smooth trail to ride. It is filled with what I would call drainage ditches that keep coming at you with off-camber roots. Zero flow whatsoever. I will say that covering this trail in the day light is so much better than at night. I did not find it as mentally taxing and was catching and passing mountain bikers by the fist full. The first 6-7 miles after leaving Jackson Park seem to drone on forever. With Dirty Mary, Flannel Shirt, and Grandview, it feels like you do not see anyone for days. When you finally pop out of the woods after Grandview, it is such a relief to see Trail Angels and crews supporting their rider or runner. It was here that I had dropped a couple of water bottles before entering the short AM/FM trail. I took my time to refill my bottles, eat more food, chat with a few of the kind folks lending a hand and taking my trash, before heading back into the woods for my next sub-section. which included AM/FM and the Carrol Jackson Trail that leads us passed Lake Minnie where there is almost always a very nice Trail Angel setup. AM/FM was slow going due to MTBer congestion and also where I noticed that I still had matches to burn as I blasted past riders unable to clear the rooty switch backs. Most of the riders in this section that I passed didn't pass me again until we got back to Clif Dr. As I was heading across Clif Dr. to the Carrol Jackson Trail, one of the Trail Angels asked if I needed anything, food, water, etc. I was just about to say no, but changed my mind when he asked if I could use a cooling towel. My goodness that would feel so wonderful! I took him up on his offer. This angel of a man drenched it in cold water, and I placed the sopping wet towel underneath my hat. Oh the relief. It felt amazing! Thanked him for this act of kindness and as I started to head off, he yelled asking at me asking which distance I was running. I told him the 50 but was pondering the 100 for next year. That is when he came hobbling after me, with a PT boot on his left leg, telling me that we should do it together next year and in 32-hours and to shake on it. Well, I am pretty sure I shook on it and I am also pretty sure his name is Jeff, and his last name starts with ... ummm .. an 'S'?? Anyway, a mile or so later I realized I never gave him my name or bib number so perhaps I am off the hook. Or am I? (later figured out that the gentleman's name is Joe Schetter and I reached out to him via Facebook messenger)
The sunlight was started to fade, and my hope had been to make it to the Lake Minnie Trail Angel AS before I needed my head lamp. The sunset was beautiful. A few times almost stopped to pull out the phone camera but decided to keep moving and take in the beauty for myself. Just before the lights went out I made it to the Lake Minnie AS, Awesome!! Refilled my bottles, made some Tator Boost mashed potatoes (got a few questions from the volunteers about what I was making), thanked them for everything, and got out as quickly as possible. The last 11 miles of trails would likely be solo, with no Trails Angels and no human contact other than other racers. It is a long stretch with some very tough trails and NASTY climbs on tired, tired legs.
The climb to the top of the ski hill was actually not that bad as I remember in years past. Not sure why, but I enjoyed it. Sick, eh? Ok, so I definitely hiked the majority of it but before it flattened out, I found myself running so I didn't hike the entire climb but ran a good portion of the start and end. Even caught a number of mountain bikers along the way and that always puts a sh** eating grin on my face. The night had taken a hold of me at this point and I was wearing down. My feet were doing ok, but could tell that the ache was coming on. I don't recall all of the trail names but am quite familiar with the ebb and flow of it all. The section next to Lake Sally is one of my favorites, simply because I enjoy hearing the water hit the shore. There is something peaceful about it as I caught the last glimpse of sunlight fade away. I almost dipped my hat into water, and I think about it every time I am there, but nervous about lack of leg strength to get myself back up. Plus, I'm not sure I want to dip my hat in whatever may be floating close to the shore. Perhaps if I could actually see it in the daylight, I might change my mind and go for it. After a couple of nasty climbs along Angel Line (I think that is the name of the trail) trail I made my way to some of the more sadistic trails; .38 Special, Old 56 and Cry Baby. The trails that chew up every last one of us and spit us out. .38 Special is along the lines of Dirty Mary with its culvert-like, rooty feel to it but even more narrow. I try to run as much of the trail as I can but using a headlamp and very quite destroyed at this point of the race, all I end up doing is kicking half of the rocks and roots with my poor battle worn feet to the point where I give up and have to hike. This of course drops my pace to a crawl. The MTBers are not much faster and I find myself yo-yoing with a number of them. One couple of riders in particular probably crossed paths more than a dozen times through the remaining miles. Eric, the father, and his son of whom I cannot recall his name. They were both incredibly encouraging to me and of course I reciprocated. Every climb I would pass them and every descent I would let them by. We joked about it, the constant back and forth. Eric's son was just incredible. His attitude, his respectfulness of others, just an amazing kid all around. It was a pleasure to spend that time in misery with the both of them. Eric and I were both getting quite tired of the non-stop climbs though and just when we thought we were through it all, another gut punch was waiting around the corner. Cry Baby is so appropriately named. I think that trail turns the majority of us into Cry Babies. All I want at that point is to pop out of the woods and be heading to the top of Jasper's Knob. I will say this every time, I love the climb to Jasper's Knob because I know what it means. One mile to the finish and that is so motivating and uplifting. This year at the top there were two pumpkins filled with Dumdums. In my state of delirium, I decided to grab two of them, one from each pumpkin. It ended up being that this action was not necessary, but I just don't trust my mental state after nearly 16 hours of racing, and I trust Todd even less. Finally heading to the finish line, I was running as best I could. When I hit the tarmac, I was able to pick up my pace and run it all the way to the finish line amongst the cheering crowd that lined the street. It was amazing.
As far as tokens are concerned, I honestly don't recall much as to where exactly all of the pumpkins were throughout the racecourse other than the last one at the top of Jaspers Knob. I do recall that there were at least 2-3 empty pumpkins, one Todd Manikin flipping everyone off, three pumpkins with legit wooden tokens, one with tiny green ducks (the sign read something about grabbing a duck for luck ... I grabbed two), and the final pumpkin at Jaspers Knob with dumdums. I also remember thinking to myself that the placement of some of the pumpkins was brilliant and sadistic. Once the pumpkin was at the bottom of a quick short descent which forced everyone to drop all momentum to stop and grab a token (pretty sure that was on Bacon Strip). The other more memorable placement of a pumpkin was just after the start of a climb, but at the first 1/3 of the climb which forced you to stop your uphill momentum, grab a token, and continue up the climb. Pure evil.
This race keeps pulling me back in. I cannot say for certain that I am interested in obtaining the 1000-mile buckle, but I can say that I hope to make it back next year. I am now 550 miles into this adventure and my mind can envision how I might go about achieving that elusive 1000-mile buckle. I'm not getting any younger but according to my wife, I still act like a child so there's that I suppose. I love playing in the woods and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is one of the most fun places to play. Who knows, maybe I will take that kind gentleman's offer and come back to run the 100-mile race with him. Crazy how quickly we forget about the pain and find ourselves in front of the computer on October 11th trying to get another crack at one of the hardest races in the country.
#happytrails
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