It’s hard not to like this race. The course is trail and is varied and is a ton of fun. The race directors are top-notch. I had looked forward to it for months. And then I ran it and it beat me up, not like last year by falling on the fifth loop, but physically wore me out by the time I finished the first loop. But I enjoyed every minute of it.
Fortunately, I had my crew chief/wife Kari with me to help me with all the junk I brought and to make sure that I wouldn’t end up like last year. We opted to stay at a nearby hotel for the night to avoid the hour-long drive in the morning. We had plenty of time to get up, have a great breakfast, and then head to the race to set up our tent.
Looking good one mile into the race. Totally beat after one loop. Loop 6 and I was cooked.
Ringing the Did Not Finish bell of shame.
Time to sit and watch the others come in.
DNF’d loop 7 is way better than not starting it.
The course was very much like the year before. A little bit of sloppy and muddy conditions, but nothing a trail runner hasn’t ever dealt with. By the end of loop 1, I felt pretty beat up and I was already calculating how many loops I might be able to complete. The goal was to do 8-12 loops, but the course forced me to reconsider that. I was now hoping to do as well as I did the year before and get at least 5 loops finished.
I had some great conversations with some of the other runners. Cody, Ashley, and Robert were great to run with, as well as many of the others. Everyone was having a great time.
The weather was pretty good this year as well. Last year was a little colder, but we were all in shorts this year.
After finishing the sixth loop in 57 minutes, I didn’t leave myself much time to get some food and I had decided that I would start the next loop but probably wouldn’t finish it. I made my way back into the corral with a fresh water bottle and started walking when the seventh loop began. As the others pulled away, I gave a half-hearted effort to keep up, but it just wasn’t happening for me. I was done. I decided to walk up the hill and back down the next which would put me near camp. Kari met me at the bottom of the hill and I told her that I was taking a victory cool-down lap. We decided to walk up the next hill and around more of the loop and ended back at the camp, with an additional but unofficial extra 1.5 miles. I walked up and told the race directors that number 159 was dropping from loop 7. I rang the bell and thanked everyone for the well wishes and congratulations. Then Kari and I began packing up.
I could make a dozen excuses why I dropped out when I did, but it all really boiled down to being uncomfortable running across the highly technical rocky terrain on tired legs. It lead to me falling last year, and I just didn’t want to repeat that. So, I’ll take my 25 total miles, my awesome WausaUltra race swag, and my finisher medal, and live for another race. Time to heal up and begin training in the summer for the fall races I have signed up for.
I ran this race last year in rainy and muddy conditions and it didn’t deter me from signing up for it this year for some reason. This year has to be better, right? Nope. 11 degrees F. at the start with a feels-like temperature of -2. That’s because it was super windy too! Fun times. At least it wasn’t muddy. Nice and firm frozen ground, which I would become very acquainted with later on.
I got there early enough to see my crazy ultrarunning friend Jodi start the 50K race an hour before my race started. I picked up my race packet and sat in the warm car for an hour. I had brought lots of clothing options and I really thought that I was going to have to run in my coat. But after seeing what some others were opting for, I also went a more minimal route – three long-sleeved shirts, the race shirt over that, two layers of gloves, a balaclava with a visor and another hat on top of it, and a new windbreaker jacket I bought last week. I also wore my warmest running pants which might not have been necessary, and to add to that, the elastic wasn’t as strong as it used to be. I slowed several times to pull them up, but eventually stopped and tied the drawstring in a knot. Anyway, I was pretty comfortable and maybe a little too warm.
I walked over to the start about 5 minutes before and took a look around at the competition. The race director gave us some last-minute info and the countdown was on, but no one was anywhere near the start gate. As he declared go, I was the first to bolt through it and off to the races!
I wasn’t kidding that no one was willing to take the lead! Here I am bolting through the start gate! Photo credit Bill & Michelle Thom/RunRace.com used with permission.
I’m in first place! I had a smart pre-race plan of pacing slowly and not starting out too fast. Race day adrenaline took over and it wasn’t long before my labored breathing was forcing me to slow down. Being in first place in any race is kinda fun, but I would much rather pass people (encouraging!) than be passed (discouraging!). By a quarter-mile into it, a young lady joined me and we paced together until about a mile into it, when we got to a hill and I slowed and she didn’t. She would finish in 2nd overall. I had no business pacing with her. Another guy passed and I was now in third.
I kept up the count every time someone passed me, and I would tell them “you are now in 4th! or 5th or 6th, etc. I quit telling them after I dropped out of the top 10, which was about 4-5 miles into the race.
I was starting to sense that something was wrong with the way I was feeling. I felt like I was running on fumes and might be in for a slog. Thankfully, I brought along some gels to help get me through some rough spots.
I got to the turn-around of this out-and-back race and was feeling pretty happy about my time at that point. My split was an hour and twelve minutes for 7.75 miles and I was turning for home. But right about a half-mile later I came to a dead stop, tripping on some damn root or stone and falling to the ground with a thud. Since I have started running trails I have been falling, and I was super cognizant of that today, but it didn’t matter. The bill of my visor struck the ground causing my glasses to be forced into my nose causing a cut. I had the wind knocked out of me, yet that didn’t stop me from unleashing a string of curse words that had the forest creatures running. I was also seeing some stars after getting to my feet. That’s a new one. A few kind runners took time to stop and take stock of my dumb ass and offer assistance. One asked if I wanted her to walk me back to the turn-around for help and I initially said yes. Then I said no. I could walk, nothing seemed broken, and I felt like I could probably press on. And press on I did, albeit much, much, slower.
The rest of the way was a combination of running the flat sections and walking up and down hills and just moving forward. I was starting to get foot cramps and I was starting to think I was very dehydrated. I had water and I was drinking it, but I don’t think it was enough. I didn’t feel like I had been sweating all that much, but my wife Kari said my clothes were soaked when I got home.
I got to the finish and was glad it was over. One volunteer asked if I was okay, and I said no. I was mad at myself, but it was nice of him to ask. The race director asked how old I was and then said I had just missed the age group award. I kind of figured that out. It was actually a relief because it meant I didn’t have to hang around for any awards.
I walked back to the car and sent Kari this picture:
I sent “I’m all done with my 25K!”
Kari replied “Why are you bleeding!!”
Me: “The ground might have had something to do with it.”
Her: “I can’t let you out of the house!!”
I was a little concerned that my calves would cramp up on the 20-minute drive home, so I got out and walked around a little bit. I went into the toilet and peed some pretty dark urine, which was all the indication I needed that I was pretty dehydrated. I grabbed a nearly frozen Coke from the finish line and started drinking it. It turned me around pretty quickly and I drove home with no issues.
So there you have it, falling at trail races seems to be a thing for me. It’s a good thing that I only have three more on the calendar this year.
Ask any runner if they check the weather report weeks ahead of the big race and I would bet that most would say they do. I’m no different. We had really great fall temperatures the week before the race, but it was about to change – just in time for race day, naturally. Instead of packing several pairs of short sleeve shirts and shorts, I packed for a day in the low-30s, with evening temps below freezing. Kari told me later that the truck’s outside thermometer reading only reached a high of 34 degrees.
My super awesome sherpa/crew wife Kari and me heading to Vienna.
But as it turned out, the cold temperature for the day didn’t bother me at all. They say that you hope for the best conditions and prepare for the worst, and if some freezing-type temps were the worst of it, then that’s no big deal. I’ve run plenty of times in the cold. I knew it was going to get cold, but the two inches of snow we woke up to was quite a surprise. That’s the weather in the midwest for you.
Yes, two inches of freshly fallen snow greeted Kari and me as we went out to the truck for the trip to the starting line in Vienna. This will be interesting, I thought. We arrived, parked, and found our way to the start area to look for some familiar faces. My son Ben and become friends with a guy named Sean, and they had done a lot of running together. Sean was there to run the 50-mile race and I was glad to see him. We greeted each other at the pre-race dinner the night before and again just before starting our journeys, wished each other luck, and he took his rightful place in the front of the starting group and I made my way to the back. I found my local friends, Jim and Calvin, both doing the 50-miler, and we took some selfies. Jodi, Jennifer, and Lara must have been avoiding us, but I would see two of the three later in the race.
Sean and me at the start. He’d finish 4th overall in the 50. Impressive!
I’m not sure if I was just not hearing the national anthem or if they didn’t sing or play it this year, but the race seemed to start before I was aware it was time to do so. A trip around the parking lot led to the trail, and to the south, we all headed. As we trampled through the now slightly muddy trail, we all were taking the least sloppy line. But before too long, the trail firmed up, and only the edges of the trail and the numerous wooden bridges would show the icy reminders of the early morning snowfall.
Staying near the edge of the trail where it was less mushy.
I felt great as I pressed on, keeping on track with my plan to run for two minutes, followed by walking for two. I did really well with this method in September at the Broken Anvil Backyard Ultra, and it was netting me about 4.5 miles every hour. I met Kari at the second aid station located in Karnak, Illinois, and advised that all was good – and it really was. I tend to sweat, no matter if it’s hot or cold, but I wasn’t sweating at all. I must have picked the right amount/type of clothes for the day – two thin, long-sleeve undershirts, a pair of running shorts under a light pair of running pants, and my 2016 Ironman Lake Placid Finisher jacket, a jacket that is more like a windbreaker than what is typically offered by Ironman as a “finisher’s jacket” but was the perfect thickness for this day. I topped my head with a visor covered with a running beanie and of course a pair of gloves to keep my hands warm. I was shocked that I wasn’t sweating at all, and I attributed it to the run plan that I was following, keeping my heart rate down, and not heating myself up for too long. Of course, the weather and my clothing were contributing as well to keeping me dry.
Ran with Calvin for a bit and stopped for a picture.
Since I wasn’t sweating, and I was doing my best to keep hydrated, I was developing a new issue – I was peeing a lot. I estimate that I was drinking about 1/4 of a cup of water every couple of minutes. Early in the race, I was peeing every 10-15 minutes or so. By the later stages of the run, I was peeing about every five minutes. At one point it seemed like I would take a drink and then stop to pee. And since there was snow along the edge of the trail, I could clearly see that I was peeing very clear, not yellow at all. It was like the water was running straight through me. I took it as a good sign, but it was a little bit of a new experience for me and I thought about it a lot. Too much info, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just a memory from this race that I don’t want to forget.
Chad Colson Photography – used with permission
There are another 3 miles from the first major aid station in Karnak to the turnaround and when I got back to Karnak again I decided to make an attempt at pooping. Into the port-o-potty I went, and was glad to take care of business. I walked back over to Kari to swap out my vest and I was approached by a woman who very delicately informed me that I had toilet paper trailing behind me from my pants. I would normally be thoroughly embarrassed, but when you’ve been whipping out your wiener to urinate in front of everyone for the last 16 miles, it really didn’t faze me that much. Kari got a kick out of it though. Another bit of too much info, and another memory for posterity.
Run for two minutes. Walk for two minutes. Pee. Eat a gel every half-hour. Eat something solid every hour. Repeat for hours. And that’s how the first fifty miles went. Very uneventful, and highly executed. I was dialed in. At a couple of points, I was pretty bored, so I pulled out my phone and called my super-fan Carl and chatted him up a little. I also called my daughter Rebecca who seemed a little surprised that I was taking time out of the race to chew the fat with her. Both conversations were big pick-me-ups.
The northern section of the trail has better scenery.
Heading into the tunnel
Chad Colson Photography – used with permission
Upon reaching the 50-mile mark and being back at the start/finish again for the second time, I couldn’t help to think about how I was doing. The prior year I had quit well before I crossed the mat. This year that wasn’t happening. Kudos to Kari for being wise with where she set up her chair and had our gear; it was roughly the same place as last year, and I had no trouble finding her. Of course, she found me before I found her most of the time, but I wasn’t having to figure anything out. I would take off my vest and she would either refill the bladder of the vest I preferred or swap it out with my secondary vest with a full complement of snacks and water. Occasionally I would forget to swap my phone over, and once I realized that I didn’t have my gel flask with me. But overall all, we were dialed in.
Finishing 50, ready to eat, and head back out.
Kari had dinner ready for me again, more Ramen noodles and broth, a sandwich, some potato chips, and my favorite drink Lipton Lemon Brisk tea. I ate what I thought I needed and headed off for mile 51 and more. It was just a few miles later that I felt so good that I called Kari to tell her so. I was really feeling good, and that continued for most of the night trip on the south portion of the out-and-back course.
Upon getting back to Karnak for what was now the fourth time, things were getting a little weird for me. The energy I had in the mid-50 miles was no longer there, and I was struggling to get through the two minutes of the run portion of my run/walk. I was definitely running slower, and would occasionally skip a run turn. Another thing I noticed was that I was drifting while walking, not staggering, but just having trouble walking straight. I thought of an old childhood friend named Mike who did that type of walking normally, and it gave me a chuckle. I think that it being so dark and that I was using a headlamp to light my way was causing me to get a little off. It’s like when you are driving in a car and being okay when you stare off into the distance, but try focusing on the things speeding by right in front of you and it becomes hard to focus. And I was staring at a gazillion rocks passing by my feet very quickly.
Heron Pond aid station is between Karnak and Vienna, and I tried to eat something there. I had some more ramen and broth, and a portion of banana. Kari walked with me for a while, and I mentioned that I felt like I was starting to get drained.
One weird sensation I was experiencing was uncontrollable yawning. This happened a couple of times. I was perplexed by it because my mind was pretty sharp, having consumed caffeinated gels every 30 minutes. I think it was my body telling my brain that it was tired. A very strange sensation.
From around mile 70 to back to Vienna I knew the writing was on the wall. To continue on was going to be tough. I told myself that I would try to eat some more food, maybe drink a 5-hour energy drink, and see how I felt. Kari met me and walked me to the warming tent, and then scrambled to get me the things that might turn me around.
As I attempted to sit in a chair in the warming tent, I had already unofficially quit the race. I stumbled a little trying to sit down, which wasn’t surprising to me. I had difficulty walking in a straight line for the last six miles and felt a little wobbly for quite a while. But I had been telling myself all day to keep giving it the “old college try.” They say in ultras that if you feel crummy at some point, you may feel totally better a little later. Kari had gotten me some of the creamy potato soup they were serving inside the tent, and I began eating what I could. But it wasn’t long before I was covering my face with my hands attempting to hide my emotions, and through some sobs, I confessed I no longer had the ability, nor the desire, to continue. Kari, without a doubt the best crew/sherpa ever, would have tried to push me on, but she didn’t try to convince me otherwise. It was pretty clear that I was done and she could tell.
I scanned the faces in the warming tent and I could see some of them were making the same difficult choices. Continue or quit? Some had already quit and were at peace with it, others had that 76-mile stare like I had just before getting back to the tent. Then in walked a guy around my age, who threw down a shiny new belt buckle on the table and declared “I’m done.”
“Did you drop, too?” I asked through some foggy mind haze. “DROP?! NO, I FINISHED!” he declared. I sat there somewhat dumbfounded. Finished? Puzzled, I looked at his belt buckle again, this time a little closer – 100 Mile SUB 20. It became crystal clear and I sank further into my hard metal folding chair. This guy had just gone 100 miles in under twenty hours and looked like it was no big deal. I picked my jaw up off the grassy floor of the tent, offered a small apology for making an erroneous assumption, and advised that I just misunderstood. I told him that I was dropping and was very impressed with his accomplishment. I think at that point he realized that I was not quite all there at the moment. He offered some encouragement, but by now my body was going into recovery mode, and any further energy would be spent keeping myself from uncontrollable shivering and hobbling to the truck for the ride back to the hotel.
Last year I went into the scoring tent to notify them that I was dropping to the 50-mile finish, which resulted in them encouraging me to continue before handing me a 50-mile finisher buckle. But this year the volunteer just asked for my bib number and offered me another 50-mile finisher buckle with some brief well done’s. Kari had pulled the truck close, I stiff-legged to it and got in, and off to the hotel, we went.
Officially I am a Tunnel Hill 50-Mile finisher, with an official time of 11 hours and 50 minutes. But my Garmin watch told the real story – 76.8 miles in 19 hours and 23 minutes. Farthest I have ever run. Last year it didn’t take long to regret dropping at 50 miles. This year there is none of that. I’m damn proud of those 76 miles.
It took me three Ironman races to finally dial in my approach to that race distance, and I’m finding that it’s a learning process with the 100-mile ultras as well. I’m not sure if I’ll make it back to Tunnel Hill for another shot at 100 next year, but I’m not giving up on this quest. Hey – I made it a marathon further than last year!
I had to juggle my 100-mile training plan for the Tunnel Hill 100 due to a planned 30th anniversary trip to Italy, and it was looking like I would have to sacrifice either the 50-kilometer run or the 50-mile run. I decided that the 50-miler was probably more important to the training than the 50K, so I started looking around and found the Broken Anvil Backyard Ultra that would work perfectly for me. Running an organized 50-mile race would be a lot easier than having to do it solo and provide my own support for twelve hours. So I signed up, told the wife (hint – always tell the wife after you sign up), got a hotel for the weekend, and then started thinking about how to run the course.
After doing some research into the event, it looked like a perfect opportunity to get in 50 miles without having to walk up really long hills, shimmy down rocky terrain, or duck under or climb over fallen trees (I’m looking at you Big Hill Bonk and WausaUltra!). Seeing that there wouldn’t be any hills to force me to walk, I decided that a run/walk plan of 2 minutes of running followed by 2 minutes of walking would probably do it. Just to make sure, I did a 4.2-mile run at home on Wednesday following that pace plan and finished right around 50 minutes. Perfect.
Friday night my wife Kari and I jumped in the truck and headed west on I-80 for a little under four hour trip to our hotel in Fort Madison. After arriving, we decided to drive the route to the event location to make sure there were no surprises Saturday morning. Upon getting there we found the super-cool race director Nic still there and a few of the other participants milling around. He allowed us to set up our tent so we didn’t have to worry about it on race day, and I grabbed my bib and the event sweatshirt.
Kari and I awaiting the start
At 7am on Saturday, 30 of the 36 registrants (there were six no-shows) got into the corral and were sent off on our way. The first loop, or yard as they are also called, went really well. I quickly came to realize though, that I was the only one doing a dedicated run/walk thing, as the others just jogged until they came upon one of the few small hills or when they needed a break before doing any walking. Most of the runners were finishing about five minutes or so ahead of me, and I was consistently finishing the 4.16-miles in 50 minutes. I was really dialed in and super consistent with my pace plan. Ten minutes after each loop is plenty of time to sit, rehydrate, refuel, make clothes changes, etc. My super-sherpa race crew wife Kari was also dialed in. All of my next lap drinks, food, electrolytes, and a cold washcloth/towel were ready for me without ever having to ask. I would make some requests for certain things here and there, but she was anticipating my every need.
Some pictures of the course, a mixture of grass, crushed gravel, pavement, and a short pine needle-covered dirt trail.
The loops went by quickly as usual. A couple of women dropped after one lap, but I think they were just there to experience some fun and support other racers. One guy was using the race to get his tempo miles in for an upcoming marathon and would quickly blast through the loop. But for the most part, we would all start each loop together and I would bring up the end. Seven runners dropped before the marathon distance of loop 7, which is a little surprising. However, it was loop 7 when the Iowa skies decided to open up and pour on us.
I wasn’t really worried about running in the rain. I had an extra pair of shoes, plenty of extra running clothes, and also a rain jacket that I decided might be beneficial to help keep me warm in case the rain made me chilly. The jacket actually just made me sweat more, and I didn’t wear it for more than a loop or two. However, the rain caused a problem that I hadn’t quite planned for – chafing. I had lubed up my inner thighs in the morning as is typical for me before a long run, but the rain and the running must have caused it to wear off. When I noticed the chafing I started applying Vaseline like crazy, but I think it was too little too late. I have never had chafing as bad as that. I kept applying Vaseline every loop, hoping that I could continue on.
Screenshot of the rain heading our way
Races always provide some sort of distraction, and I was trying to remember all that I could. There was a guy who was talking to his group ahead of me and said “Prince Charles is a DICK!” Not sure what that conversation was about, but it gave me a chuckle. Another runner was in the starting corral when he realized he didn’t have his watch, and after the loop starts you are not allowed to leave the course except for bathrooms, nor are you to receive any outside assistance. Another guy spoke up and said “Spoiler alert! It’ll take you an hour.” That got a good laugh out of the group as the bell rang and we were off. I think he got his watch just in time.
The course took us through Pollmiller Park, which included a small lake and a campsite. I joked with one camper and asked how he was enjoying “the dumbest parade ever.” He chuckled and said “See you in an hour.” He must have gotten used to our routine. Another group of campers included some kids and one teenager asked me “What are you running from?” I wasn’t sure what she meant and I replied that I wasn’t running from anything. I asked the guy next to me how was I supposed to answer that? He said that it was just a “smart ass kid being a smart ass.” But it gave me something to mull over for the rest of the loop and the next. She asked again on the next loop, and I said “I’m not running from anything, I’m running to something.” A higher purpose, maybe? I don’t know, I’m still searching.
I really didn’t have a problem with the course other than there was a steady stream of cars in and out of the park. They were generally cognizant of us and gave us plenty of room, except for one car that came right in front of me and cut me off from the course and stopped. I wasn’t sure really what she was doing, and I don’t think she knew that she was blocking the race route, but it wasn’t a place to park, and she was miffed that I raised my hands as if to say “what the hell are you doing?” She backed up and I carried on to the finish.
When I hit loop 8/50K I knew I had 50 miles in the bag. Aside from the chafing, I felt really fresh. My legs weren’t tired, I had plenty of energy, and I was really enjoying each loop. When I was on the twelfth loop I was telling myself that I would do one more, possibly two after that. I finished the 13th loop and decided that the goal of 50 miles was reached, plus one extra for a total of 54 was enough for the day. It was the furthest I had ever run. I lined up in the corral for loop fourteen, and when the loop was started, I walked over and rang the bell. I was taping out. Everyone was extremely happy for me and they were applauding my effort. I told the race director “Let the record show that I started loop 14 but did not finish it.” It doesn’t really matter, but it sounds better than stopping at 13 loops.
Ringing the bell – making it official that I was done.
It took a while for the results to get loaded up and when they were I was shocked to see what had happened. The results showed that there were two runners that finished with 66.7 miles, the top male and the top female. But in a backyard ultra, there can only be one finisher! What this means is that there was NO finisher! Everyone DNF’d this race! Kari and I were discussing this and we weren’t sure if they just didn’t know the rules, or if the weather turned worse and they decided to quit, or if they were both happy with being the top finisher in their gender. The other part of it for me was that I am sure that I could have run past 66.7 miles! That’s only three more loops!
In the end, I finished in 4th place, as there were two that did 66 miles, six that tied at 62 miles, and another runner did one more lap than me. But really I was the 10th out of 30 starters, which really pleased me.
The results of the race weren’t the only thing that surprised me. What really surprised me was how dialed in I was and how good I felt, minus the chafing of course. I could barely walk when we returned to the hotel, and the shower was extremely painful when it hit my sore groin. But overall, I had no tiredness or soreness in my legs or feet. I could have kept going. The hydration was spot on, as was the nutrition. It’s making me rethink my 4-minute run / 2-minute walk pace plan for the 100 miler in November. I might have to shorten that run time down to two minutes because it worked so well here at Broken Anvil.
Overall, I loved this event. It was super fun, and if I plan to do more backyarders in the future, this one will definitely remain on the list.
Where: Trinity Christian College, Palos Heights, Illinois
Race Format: Marathon relay, 5 laps as the anchor
Results: 2000 Meters, approximately 1.2 miles, 8:19
photo credit Jim Hertz
I did something new and ran the last leg of a marathon relay with some local running club friends. It was a mild day with some humidity, but I don’t think that it affected me much. I knew going in that I was in no shape to be running fast, so I gave it the best all-out effort that I could give and was pretty happy with the result. Garmin said I averaged a pace of 7:01 for the five laps I ran.
Hanging out at the track with Big C – photo credit Calvin Jordan
I warmed up with about a 2.5-mile jog, and then took note of what mile we were on. I could see that there were a couple of teams that were a couple of miles ahead and a couple of miles behind based on the bib numbers. I paid attention to a couple of faster runners and noted that they seemed to go out too fast on their opening laps, and I took note of that.
When the baton was handed off to me I started at a pace that I felt wasn’t too hard and I think I was able to hold it pretty steady for the 5 laps that I ran. By lap two I was thinking about how heavy the baton weighed and I switched it to the other hand. By lap three I was pretty much tapped out but was able to grind out another couple of laps. I finished to the cheers of the remaining teammates and was glad it was over.
photo credit Calvin Jordan
I think there were about eight teams and I believe we finished around 6th. It was a fun day, and I’m glad I got to spend some time with the others.
I have to start by saying thanks to WausaUltra, the race directors, the staff, and the volunteers for hosting such a great event. Everything was well done. They made everyone feel welcome and became our biggest fans, even if we only made a handful of yards. They made me feel like I had a slim chance of winning. Ha!
On Facebook, the staff was welcoming everyone who had signed up with a short video and I was a little surprised at my welcome, as the guy thought that being 58 years old and doing this event was an amazing feat. Listen up, whippersnapper! I’m not old!
I drove to Wausau on Thursday afternoon and took a look around. I wanted to make sure I knew how to get there, and also know how long the drive would be from Minocqua.
Friday morning I got around and made it to the park in plenty of time to get set up. I opted for my one-man pop-up tent just because it would be easier to set up and tear down. The runners started trickling in and you could start to feel the excitement. This group seemed to be pretty serious about going deep into the event.
I set my little tent up right near the finish area to limit my walking.
We heard the 3-minute warning just before 10 am and everyone made their way to the corral for the start. The weather was cool, and there was no rain for now. It was shaping up to be a good day.
The start is somewhat anti-climatic as the first twenty yards after the pavilion area was very wet, and the road quickly became a hill. So there was no bolting out of the chute, we walked it.
Looking at the start/finish area.
I ran the first yard to get the lay of the land and then took my phone along for the second one to snap some photos. The first part of the course was crushed granite road and trail and was uphill. All uphill portions were walked.
Feeling pretty good early into the second yard.
After a short switchback, we were at the top of the sledding hill and had to choose our line. I preferred to be to the left, but that meant bending under a steel tow line a couple of times. It was less wet on the left side.
Upon getting to the bottom of the sledding hill, we made a turn through some very soft ground and had to climb this hill before climbing up an adjacent sledding hill. The guy with the red vest was the eventual winner. He wasted no use less energy on the course. Ran only when he needed to.
After getting up the hill again we wandered around and then had to descend this hill that fortunately had a very soft footing. It was like running on a hill of mulch.
After coming down the hill we had to cross some wet ground. Fortunately, the race staff had placed some stones here for us. Still trying to figure out if it was a good thing. I’m the last in line in this photo. Photo credit: WausaUltra Facebook page
My favorite part of this course was this flat portion through the woods. Go figure.
My least favorite portion of the course was up there, a grassy portion near the local high school athletic fields. It was much cooler/breezier up there.
By far the most challenging part of the course were the sections of trail that were rocky. It took some serious concentration to get through these downhills. One misstep could really mess you up.
The race staff made a great effort to be all over the course to get photos and videos.
Some well-placed wooden bridges over some wetland areas. This is the section that would later end my day.
This gravel section led to another short hill just before the finish line.
So that is the course in pictures, which show what we dealt with better than I could explain it. It was a challenging course for sure.
The first few loops went pretty well, but I still struggled with sweating too much. It was tough to balance it because it was very cool in the higher parts of the course and warm on the climbs and lower parts. I eventually ended up shedding the pants I started with and swapped my trail shoes out for my regular running shoes for some additional toe space.
My big mistake however, was not taking in enough hydration and electrolytes. I don’t know why I have this dialed in so well for an Ironman but can be clueless when attempting these backyard events.
The fifth yard became my nemesis. I was giving some consideration as to how many more yards I could get through, and figured that I would attempt at least 2-3 more. But I started to get some hamstring and calf cramping here and there toward mile three and I wasn’t so sure anymore. When I came to the little wooden bridge section in the latter part of the 3rd mile of the fifth yard I wasn’t worried about it at all – it wasn’t technical, nor really anything that you had to concentrate all that hard about. But my tired legs must have kept my foot from clearing something and I tripped, falling flat onto the boards and bouncing into the moist dirt next to it. It happened so quickly that I didn’t even have time to really catch or brace myself. I hit pretty hard and was almost in shock by it. I struggled to get myself up, as I now found myself cramping pretty badly. I knew I had to get to my feet and keep moving. That’s when I got very light-headed and quickly grabbed a tree to keep from falling again. After a brief moment I was able to collect myself and start walking again, taking an assessment of the damage I had done. I had a scraped knee and a cartoon-sized bump on my left forearm, but other than that I wasn’t in any significant pain.
As I made the last little uphill climb to the finish area, a guy standing there asked if I was okay. I told him that I fell and he went and told the staff. I made it to the finish and told the others there that I had banged myself up. Staffer Ellen was kind enough to get me an ice bag for my swollen arm and bandaged up my knee. I was advised that I still had about five minutes left to get ready for the next loop, but I told them there was no way. My two or three more yards estimate was immediately quashed as soon as I got up from that fall. I decided right there and then that I would not push my luck. Had I fallen on those rocks it could have really messed me up, and I wasn’t prepared to go back out there being behind on my hydration and energy.
Sitting in my tent, nursing my wounds.
I let the 3-2-1 minute countdown pass and stood and watched the others parade by. My day was done. I went over and rang the DNF bell of shame and then began the two hour packing up process to head home. Five yards, and a little more than 20 miles. It was less than I was expecting to do, but not too bad for this difficult course. The day sure made for a great and memorable experience.
I may be a DNF, but I added some trophies to the collection.
NOTES FOR NEXT TIME
This was a very technical course. I need to practice that type of terrain more.
Running downhill wasn’t too bad here, but it always wears my quads out quickly. Maybe add some leg press strength work or run more downhills in training.
Get that nutrition/hydration/electrolytes figured out.
Make sure my wife is there to help me! It was tough without a crew member.
I really enjoyed this event and I will definitely be back in the future. Thanks for reading!
BIG HILL BONK – WISCONSIN’S BACKYARD ULTRA – LAST RUNNER STANDING RACE REPORT
April Fool’s Day can be cruel and fun at the same time, and since the second running of the Big Hill Bonk happened to occur on April 1st, thirty-one runners including myself set out to do some foolhardy running through the woods of Beloit, Wisconsin. Foolish as it may seem to run an unknown and unlimited amount of 4.167-mile trips around the park, it was also a ton of fun. April Fool’s Day treated us to a cold morning start, and a campsite with an inch of snow on the ground to place our tents upon, but that didn’t seem to bother any of us. The day would stay sunny all day long and warm up to the mid-forties providing a mostly comfortable day of running.
Kari and I set up our tent and I made my way into the Welty Center to check in and get my bib and swag. I said hello to the race director Tyler, made my way over to the table, and was greeted by Tyler’s dad, who knew my name and said he loved reading my blog posts about training for last year’s race. I’m always surprised when someone tells me they have read my blog. It wouldn’t be the last time I was greeted with “you’re the guy with the blog!” A travel coffee mug with the Big Hill Bonk on it was the swag in place of a t-shirt this year, and I gladly filled it up with some warm coffee and made my way back to the tent to get off my feet and keep warm, thanks to a little propane-fueled camp heater I picked up just for this occasion.
I believe I was one of three who had run the 2021 inaugural edition of the Big Hill Bonk to return for some more “fun” in 2022. Of course, the other two returning runners were last year’s winner Jon, and another runner named Zac, who would be the one to make sure Jon didn’t have a walk in the park win this time around. There were a couple of other significant differences between the 2021 event and this one. First, 2021 was held in August and started at 5:30 pm. This year it was moved to April, the race director Tyler’s personal preference, and we started at 10 am. So nine out of the ten yards I did was done with daylight, and I barely needed the headlamp on the last yard. It was also much colder, which I think helped prevent me from overheating and getting somewhat dehydrated like I did last year, although I was still sweating and couldn’t find a comfortable amount of layers. It was much warmer at the bottom of the course than it was at the top, and I would overheat walking up the Big Hill. Then when we hit the road for the last mile, the cold breeze was in our face and made for a slightly uncomfortable finish to the yard. Since there was snow on the ground when we began the event, I jokingly told Tyler that I was circulating a petition to get it moved back to August. But as the race progressed I’m not sure what time of year I prefer to run this type of event. I think I have more experience managing myself in the heat than the cold. It’s easier, too. Just one layer – no hats, gloves, extra pants, or other things to keep me warm.
ONTO THE YARDS
As we heard the first three whistles, letting us know that the race would begin in three minutes, we all started to stir and made our way to the starting area. I met a young man named Blair who advised that he had read my blog to gain some insight about this event. I took an immediate liking to Blair and I would spend almost the entirety of my yards running with him. We had some great conversations about ultra-running. It also helped that we were running at roughly the same pace. I was enjoying not only Blair’s company, but there were plenty of others to enjoy conversations with this time around.
Snow covered the ground for the first few yards, then it was gone. This is the first yard.
Finishing the first yard. Not sure if the people recording the splits remembered to do it for this lap, but we came in around 48 minutes. We had already started to shed layers.
Last year everyone seemed to be more serious and less talkative. A couple of ladies named Stefanie and Kerri would strike up a bond and provide a lot of positive energy for the rest of us. I asked them on one of the yards if they had known each other beforehand. Nope, they met that day and were instant pals. I loved seeing the others finding the right group for themselves. It was an eclectic group for sure. There was a guy wearing a yellow and blue jacket, who had to lead every lap and finish each lap before everyone else. Not always the best tactic in this kind of event, but he seemed determined to own that. Another guy wore just a singlet and shorts, while the rest of us had on a few layers. There was a guy who ran in sandals, which is something I could never do. Another entrant was a kid who looked about 15-years old, but I learned was 18. He was a machine and made each yard look like it was nothing. I think that I was the oldest entrant, most of the others were well under 40. The only other guy in his 50’s was very consistent with his effort and was locked in. He outlasted me.
The first yard was done with snow covering the ground, but I somehow avoided getting wet shoes/feet. By the third yard, the snow would be gone for the most part, with the exception being a few areas in the woods shaded from the sun. The most technical part of the course is the descent from the top of the hillside down toward the path that would lead to the lowest part of the course. It was a little muddy and slippery, and I had seen some muddy legs from a few runners who may have slipped on this portion of the course. I took my time on it, as losing my footing would have meant a pretty good tumble down the hill. Some of the runners commented on how they weren’t expecting the obstacles that we had to get over and around, but I think they all found the course to be a lot of fun.
As we came to the finish line of the first yard, everyone pretty much started shedding the layers that they had overestimated needing. I was certainly in that group. I took the windbreaker off and went to a thinner pair of gloves. One guy had said that he was switching to just a t-shirt. But figuring out the right combination of layers and clothing was one of the harder things to figure out for the day. One runner had doubled up on running tights and was stripping down to just a single layer after the first yard. I’d start slightly cool, but at about a mile into the run we would head up a steep hill and I would get warm. The lowest portion of the course was the warmest, thanks to the namesake Big Hill shielding us from the wind coming from the west. Getting up the hill and onto the road for the last mile back into the finish area was the coolest, and I often wished I had another layer at that point.
I switched out tops three times, about every third yard, because I was pretty sweaty. I also switched from my trail shoes to my road shoes. The trail had firmed up quite nicely and I wasn’t worrying about slipping. The trail shoes were a half-size small and were starting to bruise my big toe.
In regard to hydration and nutrition, I think I handled it a little bit better this year. I had a decent breakfast at the hotel around 7 am, and I saw an opportunity to use the heater I bought to not only warm up the tent but to toast a Pop-Tart, which I promptly ate just before the start. I had purchased a Jimmy John’s roast beef sandwich on Thursday and was able to eat about three 2-inch sliced portions of it throughout the day. I snacked on potato chips, pretzels, a Payday bar, and yogurt in addition to eating some GU gel every lap. I also downed some Gatorade and a Lipton Brisk Raspberry Tea for the caffeine. Blair had said that he was sticking primarily with liquid nutrition, but that is never enough for me. The young kid was eating a banana often and I was kicking myself for not having a few on hand.
As for the rest of the yards, I will summarize: The day warmed up, the whistles blew, we lined up and went again, occasionally someone would drop, the guy in the yellow and blue jacket would lead us all in, and we would come back for a quick rest in the tent, eat some food, and then do it all again. A guy named Doug said he read my blog, as well as the kid – well, the kid admitted that his dad had read the blog and told him about it. When the kid saw that I was still going on Yard 9, he was genuinely happy for me to get past what I had accomplished last time. It eventually got dark and the winner from last year would get the win after 25 yards (104.2 miles).
A section of stairs that we had to go down that were slick with snow at the beginning yards. They were only about 8 inches wide as well, and we definitely paid attention to our foot strike here.
Kerri and I wrapping up Yard 9 just before teaming up for one last yard.
I ran the last yard with Kerri, a runner from South Dakota, who had also said that she was dropping after ten laps. We teamed up to get through that last yard and she made the mistake of telling me that she was interested in doing an Ironman, and then had to listen to my lecture on how to do an Ironman. I’m not sure if she’ll still want to do one after that.
Kerri waving, myself and Blair getting our watches ready for Yard 10. I think Blair ended at Yard 12, 50 miles.
After getting back to the tent and giving my wife Kari and much deserved hug, I had walked over to Blair’s tent nearby and thanked him for making my day and dragging my butt through 40+ miles. The day ended with me sitting in the tent with a blanket wrapped around me and huddled in front of the heater to keep me warm as Kari began the process of tearing down our stuff and hauling it to the car. I spotted a gentleman walking by my tent and he backtracked after seeing me and said “way to go – seriously, great job!” I think he was impressed someone near his age could keep up with these young guys and gals for as long as I did. Maybe next year I’ll shoot for 12 yards. There’s still a lot of miles left in these legs.
Added another “bonked” loser rock to my collection. There will be more.
Kari, the best race sherpa/coach wife/partner in crime, and I enjoying some post-race down time in Minocqua, Wisconsin. Couldn’t do these events without her help.
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Thinking of doing a backyard ultra/last runner standing event like the Big Hill Bonk? Here are a few pointers.
Having a tent as a home base is very helpful. You may not need it, but if the weather turns it could come in handy.
Bring extra running gear – shoes, socks, shirts, hats, etc. I sweat in summer and winter, and I made several clothing changes.
Sunscreen and lip balm are your friends. I had sunscreen on my face, but forgot to put some on my bald head. My chapped lips are still trying to feel normal three days later.
There are some common drop points in the race where it’s common to see people decide they are done – hitting the yards and covering the marathon, 50K, 50 mile, 100K, and of course the 100 mile marks. Make those your goals, or know to avoid them if you are not trying to hit a specific mileage.
Train for it like it was an ultra.
Have a support system or crew if allowed. My wife Kari was so helpful in having my water bottles replenished, my food ready, my change of clothes laid out, and give the emotional encouragement that is so important.
Although there’s usually some great ultra-type food buffet options at the event, bring some food that you know works for you.
Make some friends on the first lap and enjoy the company!
I had a great time running a 25K trail race through a very muddy and challenging forest preserve course.
All Of The Muddy Details
Pre-race Course Reconnaissance:
Seeing that I have never run a trail race before, and because I have never run at this particular location before, I decided on Monday to drive the 30-minutes to Willow Springs and the Forest Preserve District of Cook County to see what I was up against. I’m glad that I did because I received an in-depth view of the course. There were lots of missed turns, lots of rocky terrain, and lots of hills. Seeing that there was rain in the forecast for race day, I bought a pair of trail running shoes for the race. Rain or no rain, the trail shoes certainly improved my traction on this trail system.
Race Day
Mud can be fun, right?
It rained on Friday – a lot. I knew that this was not going to make for a good run, but what can you do? It was still raining on Saturday morning, and it was cold too. You can’t control the weather, so I always hope for the best conditions and plan for the worst. Of the bad weather races that I have done, this one ranks around fourth I would say, behind Leon’s Triathlon 2015 (3rd – downpouring rain), Ironman Chattanooga 2019 (2nd – extreme heat), and the Boston Marathon 2018 (1st – cold, downpouring rain, headwind the entire way).
I met up with Jodi, the ultra-marathon crazy friend of mine who was running the 50K.
The Bad Influence and me. The Stones logo was not placed there intentionally.
Jodi’s race started an hour earlier than mine, so I waited around and was soon joined by my friends Jim and Leah.
Jim, Leah, and me. Photo credit to Leah’s husband, Steve, which I gladly stole from Facebook.
We lined up, wished each other well, and off we raced!
The race started on grass and 100 yards into it my feet were feeling the wetness from the grass. That soon gave way to much softer grass, and mud and I was trying my best to jump over visible puddles, but it was quickly becoming not worth the extra effort.
The course map with the colored trails we ran.
I bolted out from the gate a little stronger than I probably should have and found myself trying to keep pace with some faster runners that I had no business trying to keep up with. By a mile into it, I was passed by another more sensibly paced runner and watched him slowly pace away from me. I was starting to question the choice of layers I was wearing as I was getting a little warm. I took my gloves off, unzipped my pullover, and pulled the hat up to expose my ears. I was struggling with my eyes watering and my glasses fogging up. Miles 2-3 was the portion of the trail that most likely had the best conditions. We ran the Yellow Trail for about 3.5 miles and then came to the Orange Trail. I encountered the leaders of the 50K returning back to the start on their first loop. They were impressive. I saw that someone had ditched their jacket near the unmanned water station and I gave it a brief consideration but opted to keep wearing it.
The Orange Trail was one of the worst portions – a ditch that was basically full of mud. I made an energetic effort to run the ridge and make my way through it. Thankfully, it was short-lived and soon was on the very technical Blue Trail, with lots of hills, roots, and rocks. The Blue Trail gave way to the Green Trail, but I never noticed the markers. I was too occupied with watching for the orange course marking arrows painted on the ground to make sure I was going the correct way. Thankfully, I was seeing more and more of the 50K runners coming back at me, so I knew that I was on the right path. Around Mile 6 I was hearing another runner coming behind me and he must have been watching me dodge puddles and really muddy spots. He advised, “at a certain point you just have to commit to it.” As he passed I could see he didn’t give a damn about the puddles, just trudged right through them. I paced behind him for a while, but I still lacked the confidence to plow straight ahead through the worst spots. I wasn’t afraid of getting wet or muddy, I had committed to that a long time ago. I just didn’t want to slip and fall, possibly getting hurt.
Typical of the most of the course, but there were worse sections. Photo credit to Jodi – another steal and used without permission.
From Mile 6 until the turn-around at 7.75 miles was some of the worst of the muddy trail. I trudged through and reached the turn-around and walked over the sensor pad. I refilled my handheld water bottle, grabbed a couple of pretzels, made a quick toilet stop, and then made the turn to follow the same trail back to the finish. I was happy that I hadn’t ditched the jacket, as the light wind was now in my face and it had started to rain a little harder.
I saw Leah coming at me and figured she was about a mile behind me. One thing to be said about the runners I was seeing heading to the turnaround, they were all seemingly having a good time. I will admit, I was having some fun too.
Thankfully, I had brought some gels with me or I might have run out of energy much earlier in the first half of the race. I was eating a gel every half-hour and it was keeping my energy up. I took my fourth and last one around the 12-mile mark and hoped that it would get me through the last 3.5 miles. Back on the Yellow Trail with it’s better conditions, I pushed my pace again and tried to keep it up. I could hear another runner behind me and as I reached a rather steep hill, I slowed to a walk and he went around me. A glance over my shoulder didn’t reveal anyone else, so I made an effort to try to reel him back in and was doing a decent job of it until I hit the grassy portion with another uphill climb that just took the wind out of my sails. I ambled around the picnic area, following the course, and saw Jodi just leaving out for her second loop. That was something I would not have wanted to do at that point! I was spent. As I crossed the finish line, a guy with a clipboard told me that I was the 2nd place finisher in my age group. I made my way to the car for some much-needed warmth.
My feet were squishy wet. Amazingly enough, the shoes looked out-of-the-box new after a turn in the washing machine.
I sat shivering in the car trying to warm up, which was made more difficult by the wet clothes I was wearing. I pulled my top layers off of me, found a long-sleeved shirt to put on, topped it with a couple of windbreakers and my sweatshirt, and then hopped back into the car. I texted Kari and advised her that I was done, and she texted that she and daughter Ashley were on their way, which was a little surprising to me, but I had left some extra shoes at home and she was kind enough to meet me with them. They helped me stay warm while we waited for the awards.
Glad to be done with this crazy run and a little warmer.
I ended up with 12th place overall and second place in my age group and was very happy with that. And it was a fun and memorable experience that I won’t soon forget. Turns out running in the mud can be fun.
I opted for a beanie instead of a t-shirt. Nice medal and A/G award. I ran with the map to make sure I didn’t get lost.Made a lunch trip to Pop’s for some soup and fries. The looks I got in there with my muddy legs were priceless.
My last blog post was all about me asking myself if I was ready to run 100 miles. It turns out that I wasn’t. I found out that I definitely wasn’t prepared physically, and maybe I wasn’t quite prepared mentally as well. All 100-mile runs will challenge you in both ways, but I found out that I wasn’t quite up to the task. I was hoping that what training I had done would be enough, but there’s no substitute for running long miles. Running 100 miles demands respect, and I didn’t give it its due. I learned a valuable lesson. I was able to salvage something out of the race, and I am very proud of that. Here are the details.
Tunnel Hill 100 & 50 Mile Runs have been around since 2014, and the races have earned quite a reputation. The course is a world record course, and many runners have been setting personal bests there as well.
My ultra-running local friend Jodi has done the race before and provided the inspiration for me to give this race a try. A few other local friends also joined in on the challenge and came down to Vienna, Illinois to give it a go. I figured why not join in on the fun.
The pile of junk I packed for this dumb idea. Didn’t need half of it.
My wife Kari and I drove down on Friday and pulled into Vienna just in time for the start of packet pick-up. We didn’t waste much time there as the sun was starting to set and we wanted to take a drive to where the aid stations would be so that she could be familiar with the route.
Sun setting on the drive to Karnak, Illinois
After finding the southern aid station in Karnak, Illinois we headed back to eat the complimentary spaghetti dinner with the others.
Packet pickup completed!
After dinner, Kari and I drove to the northern aid station located near the Tunnel Hill tunnel and then headed to the hotel to check-in. It wasn’t long until my son Ben and his fiance Emily arrived, and we made some last-minute plans. I knew that Ben was going to pace me the last 25 miles of the race, but Emily also offered to run with me from Mile 50 to Mile 61 on the third leg, which I was very grateful for. Turns out neither would run at all!
Ben, Emily and Kari planning out their strategy to keep me alive.
After a peaceful sleep, we caravaned to Vienna to await the start. I was in a pretty good mood, with very little of the normal race day anxiety. I found the others and shared best wishes and then took a spot with the rest of the runners. The National Anthem was sung, the horn sounded, and we were off.
Trying to not freeze at the start.
LEG 1 – Vienna south to Karnak and the Southern Turnaround
After a loop around the parking lot, we made a right turn onto the Tunnel Hill State Trail for the first leg. One guy standing along the road shouted “YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!” which surprisingly gave me a chuckle. I was in a good mood. I was running with Jodi until my watch beeped and told me to walk. We were barely on the trail at this point! I felt a little silly slowing to a walk four minutes into a race, but I was dedicated to my pacing plan. It wasn’t long and others started to walk as well. Jodi was now long gone. And I would later find out all my other friends would leave me in the dust as well!
The trail was pretty crowded at this point and trying to find space on the trail was hard, as very few of us were running at the same pace. But we made the best of it and kept moving forward.
Prior to getting to Karnak, I found that I was sweaty, which surprised me somewhat. I stopped at the Heron Pond aid station and took off my windbreaker. Arriving in Karnak, I saw my crew and said I was crabby. We swapped my partially empty hydration vest for one they prepped for me and was fully loaded and I made way over to the food tables. I was expecting just a bunch of cookies and such, but there was bacon! And French toast pieces! I grabbed some bacon and was glad to have something that wasn’t sugary. The two pieces of French toast were some of the best French toast I have ever had. I walked and ate and then started running the remaining couple of miles to the turnaround.
Coming into the first aid station in Karnak.
My awesome crew! They did amazing for a first time crew!
The trip heading to the southern turnaround seemingly took forever. And it was into the wind, which made me regret taking the windbreaker off. But I think that was a little bit of a blessing, as it cooled me down and dried me off a little. As I was heading there I first saw my friend Leah, then I saw Jodi, then Jennifer, and finally Jim all coming back north! They were all kicking my butt! I was a little surprised to be bringing up the rear, as I was on my sub-20 hour pace and pretty consistent with it. It would turn out that they are much more awesome at this than my inexperienced ass.
LEG 2 – The Southern Turnaround back to Vienna
I hit the turnaround and was back to Karnak to talk with my crew again and I made the decision to swap hats, as my original ones were soaked with sweat. I was dragging on this part. I seemed to lack energy and was also a little off somehow. I found that when I was walking it seemed a little unbalanced. Running seemed okay, but I just wasn’t feeling right.
There were lots to keep my mind occupied. I was swapping places with groups of others as we took turns running and walking. There were three college-age guys running together who I nicknamed the “Bros” and they were fun to follow. They were enjoying themselves.
I finally got to Vienna and was relieved. 26+ miles done. First up was a change of clothes. Kari expected that I would want to change clothes and I was happy to get out of the sweaty stuff. I sat down in a chair and was given a ham and cheese sandwich and a bottle of Lipton Brisk Lemon Tea by my family. It was nice to sit, eat and soak up a little sun after running a little more than 26 miles. The rest didn’t last long. Ben pulled me up out of the chair, we swapped a depleted hydration vest for a full one, and I started out on the northern leg of the route.
LEG 3 – Vienna north to Tunnel Hill and the Northern Turnaround
The funk I was in during the second leg seemed to wane now that I had a sandwich and some food in me. But I think the main reason I perked up was that I was now downing gels and hydration that had caffeine in them. It was the boost that I was needing. Mentally I was in a much better place, but physically my thighs/quads were getting very sore. After every walk break, I would gingerly start my jogging routine and try not to think about the soreness. After a while, I decided that the four-minute run portion of my pacing plan was not doing me any favors any longer. I pushed some buttons on my watch and lowered the run portion to two minutes. Two minutes running and two minutes walking was now the pace plan. There were a lot of other runners walking more as well, and for longer periods of time.
The northern part of the course was beautiful. The southern portion was mostly treelined with beautiful fall colors, but the northern section had that as well as awesome rock formations and numerous bridges spanning ravines and small creeks. Plus it had an awesome tunnel. The top of the concrete tunnel entrance was stamped “1929” and it really was a relic from another time. As you approached you could clearly see the exit on the other side, and the length of the tunnel is about 200 yards or so. But once inside it got dark, even if you could see the exit. It felt really weird, the exit was clearly visible, but you didn’t really know what your feet were stepping on. Ben had heard someone describe it as “trippy” and I think that is spot on. It was a strange sensation.
Ben greeting me as I came into Tunnel Hill and looking for a chair to sit on.
Not long on the other side was the Tunnel Hill aid station and Kari, Ben, and Emily were there waiting for me. I ducked into a toilet and then walked over to a chair and sat down. I told them I was feeling good from the waist up, but the waist down was in bad shape. Kari offered me some ibuprofen and I quickly turned it down. Then she offered some Tylenol and I turned that down too. I wasn’t sure how my stomach would feel if I took some, and it’s pretty well-known that taking ibuprofen is not the best idea for distance runners.
After leaving the aid station I continued north toward the northern turnaround, and I was giving taking some Tylenol some serious thought. By this point, I had adjusted my run time from two minutes down to one, and the quad soreness was not getting better. I was now walking more than I was running. I had some Tylenol with me, so I decided to take some.
LEG 4 – The Northern Turnaround back to Vienna
The turnaround seemed like it would never come. When I finally got there it was such a relief. As the trip south now began, I noticed something interesting. This trip north was uphill, but the trip back was uphill too! Uphill both ways!
Within 20-minutes after taking the Tylenol I could feel my legs getting better. By the time I was back at the Tunnel Hill aid station I was a new man. My attitude was great, my quads felt much better, and I was kicking myself for not taking some pain pills earlier.
Kari could tell I was much better off. The food table had just put down some freshly made grilled ham & cheese sandwiches. I took one of the triangle cut portions and it literally became the greatest grilled ham & cheese sandwich I had ever eaten. I went back and grabbed another and the aid station lady was laughing that I was looking for seconds.
BEST DAMN GRILLED HAM & CHEESE SANDWICH EVER!
Another hydration vest switch, and I grabbed a headlamp, and off I went back south toward Vienna. The trip through the tunnel was much better now that I could see the ground. There wasn’t any weird sensation going through it. The ceiling of the tunnel was still soot-covered from the long-ago passing trains, but now there was some modern spray-painted graffiti added for no good reason.
I held off turning the headlamp on permanently until the last bit of fading sunlight was gone. With the artificial light making the trail visible, I made my way along the trail. There seemed to be fewer and fewer people heading north and most were now heading the same direction that I was. Occasionally I would pass a runner without a headlamp and wonder how they could see at all. It was pitch black out, even with a half-moon shining in the dark sky above.
As I pressed on I decided that maybe I could run a little more, so I bumped it up to a 2-minute run. That worked for a little while, but soon I found myself tiring. Knowing that if I was to continue on I might want to be more conservative with my energy, and I went back to the 1-minute run / 2-minute walk.
Somewhere in this stretch, I did some soul searching. I rationalized everything, taking into account how I have felt throughout the day and how I was feeling now. I had told Kari and others numerous times before the race that they should be prepared for me to drop at the halfway point. This is an option at the Tunnel Hill Runs. Those that had signed up for the 100-mile race could drop down to the 50-Mile race and become an official 50-Mile finisher if they choose to. This was looked at by some as a trap, somewhat of an enticement, or a consolation prize to those running the one hundred to drop instead of pressing on. I knew this. I also knew that after enduring the miles I had gone through already, I clearly would be struggling to continue on for another 50. I would be miserable. At one point I said I’m going to keep going. A minute later I was talking myself out of it. It was a difficult decision, but I finally said to myself that I need to attempt this another time, a time at which I’m better prepared, both physically and mentally.
The Shelby Road aid station is only about 3 miles out from Vienna, and a little puzzling as to why it’s so close to the start/finish. I arrived and took a look at the food table and decided that nothing appealed much to me. I took a small piece of banana, squeezed it into my mouth, and pushed toward the finish line.
The Finish
As the lights of the Vienna aid station came into view I experienced relief for the first time. I turned off my headlamp, jogged across the timing mat, and hit stop on my watch. I was done. Fifty miles. The longest I had ever run in my life in one day.
Finishing 50 miles of running.
Ben was the first to greet me and I’m sure that he could have predicted what I was about to say. “I’m done.” He offered some positive words and did what all good crew will do, he encouraged me to continue on. But I had made up my mind. Then a race official did the same. “Walk a little. Go get some food. Think it over.” I walked over to Kari and Emily and sat in a chair and was getting a little upset having to deal with those telling me to go on when I made it pretty clear that I didn’t want to. It’s their job to do that, to tell you not to quit. But I was starting to interpret their positive encouragement as “don’t be a quitter.” It was getting to me. At some point they conceded and it was over.
Kari encouraged me to go into the warming tent and have some soup. Inside I found Jennifer, who had just finished her 50 Miles, and Tony, a friend from the local running/riding group who was there helping crew others, and he offered some very kind words. I went from hearing what I was wrongly interpreting that I was quitting on myself to knowing that I just did something pretty spectacular.
I left the tent and Ben walked me over to the timing tent. Another female runner had just dropped from her 100-mile attempt to the 50, which made me feel better. I wasn’t alone. I’m not sure what her reasons were, but I’m guessing it wasn’t an easy decision for her, just like it wasn’t for me. The volunteer said, “Great job, here’s your belt buckle.” It was official, Bib #536 was now a 50-Mile finisher.
Ben and I walked back to join Kari and Emily and we started packing up. I wrapped a blanket around me and we started to head to the car. Except now my body was shutting down on me. All I could do as I was shivering was to stagger very slowly back toward the car. Each step was almost excruciatingly painful. I started to wonder what if this would have happened to me later on during the next leg. What if it had happened miles away from the aid station? As we got to the car and Ben had to help me get my legs into the car, I realized that I had made a smart move to drop.
I am very proud of what I accomplished. Finishing 50 miles is pretty awesome in its own right. The option to stop at the 50-mile mark was actually a blessing for me. In retrospect, I just wasn’t prepared to go 100-miles. I lacked the time on my feet that running that distance demands. Also, I think the main reason I stopped at 50 instead of pressing on was that I was just tired of running and the prospect of another 50 wasn’t appealing to me at all at the moment. I’ll have to overcome that feeling next time, I’m sure.
I will revisit this race again in the future when I’m better prepared and eager to make it happen. Thanks, Tunnel Hill!
Thanks
My wife Kari continues to wow me with her love for me and the support she gives me when I tackle these challenges. I couldn’t do it without her.
Thanks to Ben and Emily for giving up their weekend to crew me and help out mom. Although I felt like I cheated you out of pacing me through the second half of the run, I sense that you guys were okay with it. (lol)
To my local friends:
– Jodi finished her 5th 100-mile race, which is just absolutely amazing. Thanks for providing the inspiration and sharing your ultrarunning knowledge.
– Jim, you are impressive as always. You have the wisdom and experiences that I seek.
– Jennifer, congrats on your first 50-mile finish. You provided enough enthusiasm for all of us.
– Theresa, way to go on that 50-mile finish!
– Leah, WOW! Way to kill it! Not sure how you held that pace through 100 miles, but WELL DONE!
– Calvin, your love for running and your unselfishness is amazing. Keep it up!
– Tony, thanks for the kind words in the tent, letting me know that even though the original goal wasn’t achieved, the finish I got is pretty damn good, too.
– Dan, I look forward to learning more from you. Thanks for spectating and the encouragement!
After doing this race in 2019 and nearly melting from the heat, my buddy Dave and I were in agreement about not wanting to ever experience that again. I definitely tried to avoid Chattanooga, but fate pushed me there.
I had signed up for the 2020 Ironman Louisville race but it got canceled due to some social unrest in the city and of course, a worldwide pandemic. Ironman gave me four options to transfer to, three of which were also fall 2020 races and clearly not going to happen. The only other option was to go back to Chatty in 2021 and hope that the world would settle down. Thankfully, we had a better knowledge about the virus, and the vaccine helped keep the option for racing open in 2021. Things still aren’t ideal, but it’s getting better.
So I opted for a return trip to Chattanooga and I was soon joined by my Gunner buddies Jeff, his sister Jan, and eventually Dave. A few local friends also opted to give Choo a go – Susan, John, and Charlie, as well as first-timers Angela and Daniel. At first I thought that this race was going to be a solo affair for me, but now it was a full-fledged party!
Training thirty weeks for an Ironman is an awfully long time.
Once again I broke out the old trusty Be Iron Fit training book and followed the plan. 30-weeks broken into base, build, and endurance phases that has prepared this self-coached triathlete well in four previous Ironman races.
I follow the plan pretty closely with a few changes that I have found over the previous training cycles to be beneficial to me. First, I reduced the swim from the hour-plus swim, 2-3 times per week that the book dictates, to two 30-minute swims per week. I’m not the greatest swimmer, but once I had the technique down, I found that the swim training that the book wants me to do is INSANE. Plus, I get so bored swimming that I just can’t take much more than 30-minutes. I did get in a longer open water swim in Minocqua at my lake home, and I did one 4200 yard swim in my pool in the closing weeks of training just to prove to myself that I could do the distance.
Biking was more of a group thing for me this time around, and I often joined the locals for the rides out to Elwood. My coworker Tom, who had caught the triathlon bug and signed up for Ironman Muncie 70.3 was also a training ride partner. A couple of weekends I was joined by Susan, which were much needed in order to help each other get over the mental struggle of training. She won’t take any credit for turning me around mentally, but she deserves some none-the-less. Overall, it was a pretty good year for cycling leading up to the race.
As for the running – oh boy. I foolishly signed up for a “last runner standing” format ultra which also got postponed to August. I just used my Ironman training and it got me through 8-loops and 33 miles, completing my first 50K distance ultramarathon. After that, it was back to the plan and doing the work with one exception – I also foolishly signed up for the Tunnel Hill 100, an ultra-marathon in November. I’m pretty dumb. So I decided that even though I wasn’t going to increase my mileage, I did adapt to doing some run/walk long runs. I learned that a ratio of about 4.5 minutes of running with a 1.5 minute walk break on my Sunday long runs was working pretty good for me. Since I was doing Chattanooga, I figured that I was going to be walking most of the marathon anyway, so why not get used to that style of running.
How hot is it going to be this year?
Summer was hot here in the Chicago area again this year and I could sense that race day might be ugly once again. Boy was I wrong. I generally avoid looking at the weather forecast until it gets closer to race day, but it was shaping up to be beautiful. How beautiful? How about mid to upper 70s, no rain and no wind. If you could pick the perfect day, this might have been an ideal race day forecast. And if that wasn’t good enough, it rained for several days leading up to the race which cooled the water temp down below the wetsuit legal temperature of 76.1. I think this was a first for Chattanooga – a wetsuit legal swim!
What can go wrong will go wrong.
Race week meant one final check of the bike and I decided to give the drive train one last going over. That’s when my 8-year-old rear derailleur decided to die.
That spring thing isn’t supposed to be showing.
I drove the bike up to Spokes in Wheaton, Illinois and begged a guy named Chris to fix it for me. He said I was screwed. Actually, he said that they don’t stock 10-speed parts as they aren’t being used anymore. But he searched through an old box of spare parts and found a lesser level Sram 10-speed derailleur in workable condition. He bolted it on, I took it for a test spin, happily forked over the $70 bucks, and then thanked my lucky stars. The next day the bike was in the car and I was headed to Chattanooga.
When Carla wasn’t involved in picking out our lodging, things can get weird.
Since Dave was a last minute sign up, his wife Carla wasn’t doing all of the work finding us lodging. I didn’t mind our last hotel that we stayed at in Chattanooga, but I was hoping for something closer. I settled on the Marriott Residence Inn, which I totally picked because it was a block away and it had a little kitchenette thing. When I checked in I got some attitude from the guy at the front desk about not canceling our second room soon enough, and then I made my way to the room. It was a little dirty and smelled a little, but I was glad to have plenty room for my stuff. It got a little weird when the toilet wouldn’t flush and they had to call a plumber in to remove the travel-sized deodorant that someone had flushed down it. Fun times.
Kari flew in and soon the whole Gunner gang was in town. The next couple of days were spent checking in for the race, organizing our gear bags, and then dropping the bags and the bikes off. Gunner Jeff, a four-time Ironman, for some reason could not remember the bike/bag drop-off procedure, which I found highly entertaining. Race week anxiety does some weird stuff to your brain.
My friend Angela checking out her bags for her first Ironman.
We typically try to find a restaurant to eat a prerace meal at, but since we couldn’t find something at such a short notice for our big group, we opted for a family-style spaghetti dinner, courtesy of Jill and assisted by her daughter Emma and my wife Kari. It might have been the best prerace dinner ever. We had such good conversations and the meal was delicious.
Best prerace meal ever!
Why am I nervous? Prerace anxiety sucks.
After setting a couple of alarms I was ready to hit the sack. Except there was no way I was going to fall asleep. At 10:30pm or so, I got back up and took a portion of an Ambien and tried again. According to Kari, I was soon asleep. According to me, my brain was active all night long.
Race day is finally here!
The alarms went off and I got up and showered. Dave always showers before the race but it’s a sometimes for me. I felt like the shower might wake me up more and needed a shave, so I took one. Next up was getting dressed and grabbing some food. Then off to meet the gang to walk down to the village and into transition to check the bike and bags.
I think Dave needs another shower. He never was a morning person.
We hopped onto the school bus for the shuttle ride to the swim start and then settled into to await the start. I heard that the kayak volunteers were late getting into the water for some reason, which delayed our start by about ten minutes, but we heard the pro racers start and we would be next.
I had made a Facebook friend, a guy named Marc the Shark, and had missed seeing him at Louisville in 2017 and so far for this race too, but as I was looking around there he was just a couple of people away. I said hello and we wished each other well.
Next thing I knew I was walking down the ramp and jumping into the Tennessee River with hardly any performance expectation other than to finish without getting too worn out.
59 MINUTES!?!? THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT!
The swim went swimmingly. I drifted to the right, away from the shore and more toward the middle of the river in order to take advantage of any current that was pushing us along. The kayakers will only let you get so far away from the buoys, so I found myself pretty much between them and the kayakers. It seemed like I was swimming by myself, once again enjoying the almost 100% contactless swim. I had a little hint of a foot cramp happening, but I was able to kick it out of my system.
As the buoys turned from yellow to orange at the halfway point, I found myself getting closer to them and eventually looked up to find them on my right side for the first time. I got past the island in the middle of the river and the three bridges were dead ahead. The next thing I knew I rounded the red turn buoy and swam to the ladder, and that’s when I glanced at my watch – 59 minutes. That’s insane. I know that this course could give me a quick swim, but never in my life did I think I could swim 2.4 miles in under an hour. 00:59:43 officially. A swim PR for me.
Still wondering how the heck I swam a 59 minute Ironman swim.
Thankfully a volunteer yanked my wetsuit off for me or I would still be sitting there trying to remove it.
SWIM: 00:59:43 – 52nd in Male 55-59 Age Group / 529th Male / 679th Overall
Why do I suck at the swim to bike transition?
My plan going for getting through the first transition was to not waste time like I usually do. So what did I do? I found a way to waste time.
As you can see in my swim photos I still have my swim goggles on. That’s because they are prescription and I need them to see where I am going, find my bag, and go find a place to sit down and get ready for the bike. All that went well enough but as soon as I put my eyeglasses on, they fogged up. Nice. Now I couldn’t see much at all. I couldn’t find my socks at first, but then I remembered that I had put them into one of my shoes. I found my towel and dried my feet and got some Skin Glide on them and then struggled to get my socks on. Next were the arm sleeves that went on okay thanks to me rolling them on, but then I realized that I hadn’t put on any sunscreen yet and I was sure that I would take the arm sleeves off when I warmed up. So I started looking for my spray can of sunscreen and couldn’t find it. Since I knew that they had a sun screen table at the exit of the bike corral, I stopped looking for my own and got all of my swim crap into the bag. The helmet got strapped, my nutrition, consisting of five Payday fun size candy bars, a Stroopwafel, and my gel flask, got thrown into my back pockets, and off I clopped to find my bike.
I walked the bike over to the table with the sunscreen and took off my gloves and started hitting the most vulnerable spots heavily. The gloves went back on and off I clopped again to the mount line to begin my tour of a sliver of southern Tennessee and a big chunk of northern Georgia.
T1: 12:34
They say this is a beautiful and scenic bike course. I’ll take their word for it.
Almost all of the Ironman bike courses are listed as “scenic” and I’m sure that they are. But when you are riding along at 18 mph or so, with others jockeying around you on roads that sometimes aren’t in the best shape, you tend to spend more attention to not crashing than the beautiful scenery. But this time I did actually take a few moments to gaze at the mountains and the local picturesque landscape. I did notice some low lying fog in the early stages.
Apparently most of the sunscreen I put on went on my face.
I had a long sleeve shirt that I intended to put on when I started the bike but I opted not to use it and I was fine. I rode with the arm sleeves and gloves for more than half of the race before tossing them.
First loop fun. At least the sunscreen had faded by now.
Earning my Pathetic Triathlete Badge. Had to do it.
Heading out of town was at a fast pace. It was that way in 2019, too. I didn’t feel like I was pushing hard or anything, but after about an hour of a pace faster than I normally train at, I knew that I would be pushing pace all through the bike. The first 56 miles was under three hours by a lot, a time that I would have been really proud of if it was just a 70.3 race.
Less goofing around on the second loop.
Like usual, I was glad to be getting off the bike at the end. I didn’t feel as miserable as I normally do, but 116 miles and a little over 6 hours is a long time to be riding a bike. I handed my bike to a kid volunteer to put away and jokingly told her to change the oil and give it a wash and I would be back to pick it up in five hours. She looked at me like I had two heads. Tough crowd. I guess comedy isn’t my thing.
My Garmin had me at 6:06 with the autopause turned on. That’s a huge PR for me. Garmin also has a 18.9 mph average and a top speed of 39.1 mph.
BIKE: 6:18:27 – 55th Male 55-59 Age Group / 544th Male / 662nd Overall
Time for the emotions to kick in.
As I walked from dropping the bike off with the kid, I got hit with the feels. Usually this hits me around the last mile or so of the marathon, but I was pretty proud of what I just did on the bike, as well as the swim. It didn’t last long. I was handed my Run Gear bag and off to the changing tent to waste some time.
I sat down and pulled the cycling gear off and looked for the Dude Wipe (basically a big wet wipe) and wiped my face off, as well as the bugs that I had accumulated on my sweaty shoulders. It always makes me feel a little fresher to clean up a little.
Amazingly enough, I had a sun screen can in my bag. It’s less necessary at this part of the race, but I sprayed my bald head and arms anyway. With the bib belt, shoes and visor on, I grabbed my nutrition and started out of transition.
T2 – 7:11
This marathon is no joke. I’m not going to crush this.
On Friday, I approached a first timer as he was talking with his wife about the run course and I told him that the run starts on the sidewalk about 300 yards back there and the walk starts here, pointing to the hill not even a quarter mile into the course. I was joking, but not really. I saw a photographer and gave a half-hearted effort at running for the picture but it wasn’t going so well for me.
Just starting the “run” and trying to contain my blazing speed.
I felt hot, which is not uncommon for me. Yes, it was still sunny and later into the day, but when you are riding you have that constant wind blowing on you to help cool you off. I walked about a half-mile before I even started thinking about running.
After the first couple of aid stations, I started to get more hydration and sugar into me and started to come around. By the time I got four miles into it I was feeling better.
It wasn’t long and Gunner Jeff caught me. I knew he would. We would leap frog back and forth sharing the run lead for the rest of the way, but seeing that he had made up the difference in what little lead I had with the swim and bike, I knew that he was ahead of me by chip time even if he was standing right next to me. The same thing happened last time as well, it just happened sooner this year. He’s good.
Jeff and I walking to the top of Battery Hill and seeing Kari, Jill, Emma, and Maxwell.
Feeling good here on the walking bridge finishing the first loop.
In 2019, I made it a goal at the start of the second loop to try to get through the wooded park along the river walk before it got dark but didn’t get it done. This time it was no problem.
Second loop and second time up Battery. This isn’t even the hilliest part of this marathon. ~ Mile 18 here.
I caught Jeff again and we walked up the dreaded Barton Avenue hill together and for most of the rest of that north side of the river portion of the course. I recognized my local friend Daniel just as we were turning off of Barton. He seemed to be somewhat doubtful about finishing, but I tried my best to encourage him to keep moving forward. He was in a rough place mentally, but he overcame it and finished in plenty of time.
Jeff and I also saw Dave heading up the hill as we were heading down and knew he was also going to finish not far behind us.
As we approached the walking bridge I told Jeff that I was going to walk the uphill portion of it and not to wait for me. I could have jogged with him, but I wanted him to go get his glory and cross the line first. He finished about a minute ahead of me according to the time of day, but he bested me by about 11 minutes.
As I got over the bridge I was forced to run through a gauntlet of fans that crowd the run course and one guy got an extended evil eye from me and got out of my way. I ran down the hill and turned onto the road to finish. As I approached the finish chute I kept checking in front and behind me to have a good finish for myself and things were looking good. But all at once this dope comes screaming past me and spoils my finish. And to add to that disappointment, the announcer didn’t even call me in! WTF? Oh well, it’s not my first Ironman finish, and it probably won’t be my last. But the photos still prove that I had a great race.
5 TIME IRONMAN FINISHER
RUN: 5:04:47 – 50th Male in 55-59 Age Group / 476th Male / 612th Overall
FINAL TIME: 12:42:42 – 2nd fastest Ironman Finish / Swim & Bike Ironman PR’s / 5th Ironman Finish
But wait, there’s more!
Loads of thanks to go around. To my wife Kari – you’re my Iron Rock. Thanks for supporting me not only once or twice, but five times now. I promise to take next year off!
To my Gunner teammates Dave, Jeff, and Jan – thanks for being on the journey with me once again. Doing a race without you would never be as fun.
To my local friends Susan, John, Charlie, Angela, and Daniel – WELL DONE! You are all IRONMEN! And let’s not forget Casey, who magically appeared at the finish line as a volunteer and handed a much surprised me my finisher hat, medal and shirt! That was unexpected and a great way to finish.
an amazing run 