Ice Age 50K Race Report

TL;DR: I got my Ice Age finisher keychain and made up for a lack of talent and training with a desire to cross the finish line.

In 2016 and 2017 I tried and failed the Ice Age 50Ice Age 50, a 50 mile trail run on Wisconsin's Ice Age Trail. This year I signed up for the 50 again. I'm not fast, I have no natural running talent, and I'm kind of a wuss, so all I've got to rely on is training. I came so close last year that I thought maybe this time, with more training, I could do it.

More training didn't happen. I bought a Peloton over winter and fell in love with spin classes, of all things. Being able to get in a great workout without dealing with Wisconsin winter weather was just so appealing. So while I was putting in some decent workouts on the bike, my running dwindled. I had a lot of zero mile weeks, maxed out at a 15 mile run in February, and ran my highest mileage week - 20 miles - just this month. Not exactly ultramarathon training.

Obviously, I had every intention of dropping Ice Age. I had moved into a half marathon training plan with a goal of running a sub-2:00 half by the end of summer. 20 miles a week sounded pretty fine to me.

But then I was given the option of running the 50K at Ice Age instead. While the 50 mile Ice Age route consists of a relatively easy 9 mile loop followed by two very different and very tough out-and-backs on the Ice Age trail, the 50K is made up of a 13 mile out-and-back on the IAT and two laps around the 9 mile loop. I figured I could do the 13 mile out and back, end up back at my car and call it a day.

Race Day

Fresh off my 20 mile week (lol) I was looking forward to my 13 mile DNF at Ice Age. The energy at this race is electric. The race was founded in 1982 and it attracts runners from all over. Before the start, the race director lists off the runners with many, many multiple finishes. Such a cool thing to see.

The 50K runners were off at 8:15 a.m., and I kept a light, conversational pace (because really, what else could I possibly do?). The out-and-back to the Horseriders Camp aid station has a lot of steep climbs and descents, and despite the rain of the previous day there wasn't that much mud to deal with which surprised me. The varied terrain was nice - not a ton of running, not a ton of climbing, not a ton of downhill - just a good blend of each. Getting this section out of the way first thing is so different from the 50 mile route which puts this challenging section at the end of the race. And the great views here really make this run worth it. I figured if I could make this 13 mile stretch in 3:30 - 4:00 hours and still feel okay, which I could hopefully do even on my worst day, I'd consider keeping going for a single 9-mile loop. I got back to the start/finish area well under that goal, and feeling good.

Dammit, I had to keep running.

I set a new goal - if I could reach the halfway point, 15.5 miles, in under 4 hours, I'd see how I felt at 20 miles and then maybe, just maybe, I'd consider running the last loop. I figured if I tossed enough variables in there I'd find a good reason to quit. But no, 15.5 came in easily under 4 miles and by 20 miles I was feeling as good as 20 miles ever felt. WTF.

Here are a few photos out on the 9 mile loop. Lots of easy flats, some rolling hills, and some steep climbs here and there. 100% beautiful all the way through.

I finished the first 9 mile loop upright and smiling, and my amazing friend Andrea basically shoved me back onto the course for a second 9 miler (as all good running friends would do). I told her I'd try, but no promises.

Everyone says the double 9-mile loop at the end is the worst, but I really like it. Scenic. Not technical. Just nice. But I was starting to have some aches and pains around this point, as I should. Even so, I was really getting to the point where I thought I was going to do it. I busted out my secret weapon, took a swig, put on my playlist, and kept moving.

Mental toughness has never been a strong suit for me. Last year I quit a marathon 2 miles from the finish line because everything sucked and I was having a bad day. I actually had a longer walk to get home than I would have had I just finished, but mentally I was just so done. Hell, I quit my 7 mile "long run" last weekend at mile 5 because I was feeling tired. So by mile 29, the idea that I really could be finishing this 50K on willpower was overwhelming. About a mile after I hit the final aid station I could hear the finish line music and I can't lie - I teared up. Mostly because I was so ready to sit on my ass for awhile but also because it was really going to happen.

My time? Definitely my worst 50K at a whopping 7:50. But I had a great time. Like, 100%, 10/10 would do it again great time.

Obligatory cheesy post-finish happy photo:

P.S. Everything hurts today.

The Adventures of Reddit's Traveling Singlet

I've been a member of the Reddit running community for almost as long as I've been a runner.  They're full of snark and don't tolerate assholes, but the folks of Runnit are good people.  I visit the running subreddit a few times a week.  

A few years ago, someone had the idea of a traveling singlet:  a singlet that would be shared by the runners of Reddit.  The idea is simple:  take the singlet on a run, sign your name to it, and pass it to the next runner.

I was excited for the Singlet to finally make its way to Wisconsin, but the timing wasn't exactly great: for the first time in years, the only race I have on the horizon is a local 5K in December. But the Singlet doesn't need to race. It just needs to experience something new.

When I tried to think of iconic running routes near me, the Ice Age Trail was the first that came to mind. Second was the 400ish meter indoor track at the Pettit Center. I know people from outside the area sometimes wonder about the attraction to running in circles at the Pettit, but Wisconsin runners training for a spring marathon know that circles can be preferable to our January temperatures. I did a 20 miler at the Pettit last year and lived to tell the tale.

But the Ice Age Trail...that's truly more Wisconsin. Spanning a thousand miles across the State, the trail is home to many diverse things but most runners know it as the site of the Ice Age 50: one of the oldest ultramarathons. I know the IA50 well - I've failed to finish it two years in a row now though I did get pretty close.

Anyone who loves the rocky singletrack, the rooty climbs, the open meadows, often muddy ascents and incredible views of this diverse trail has a favorite section. After all, it's over 1000 miles long - there's plenty to chose from. My favorite section runs through the Lapham Peak State Park. That's where I chose to run on Thanksgiving morning.

I woke before dawn and sneaked out of the house, timing my drive so I could see sunrise from the trail. As is always my luck when I run at Lapham, a group of deer were lingering by the entrance. That's always a good omen - it means few people were on this section of the trail right now. I parked the car and smiled at the familiar sign directing my way.

I run this section of the Ice Age Trail throughout all four seasons and I have to marvel at what a different experience it is during the different times of the year. Fall is the most challenging - the blanket of leaves hides the roots and rocks, so I did have a few close calls with some ruts this time. Winter is the most serene. The cold air feels somehow completely noiseless, and I love making the first set of prints in fresh snow. Spring is often muddy, but there's something about the feeling of renewal in the air that makes me happy slog through the mud and slide down the singletrack. Plus, spring means Ice Age 50 training, and for me that means hope and focus. Summer can be hot and relentless, but the lush greens of the trees are in full beauty by way of apology for the weather.

Have I mentioned that I fucking love the Ice Age trail? But you are here for some pictures and not my personal brochure.

The trail is built and maintained primarily by volunteers. It is amazing to me when I find structures like little footbridges have sprung up seemingly overnight. Lot of love goes into maintaining the trail.

I especially love this vista. The weird, gnarly trees, the view of the horizon. It comes at the top of a winding climb.

There are places like this where the trail is lovely and clear in fall and other places where that blanket of leaves all but obscures the path. The yellow blazes are so well-placed though - it would be hard to get too far afield.

As I mentioned, this section of the Ice Age Trail winds into Lapham Peak State Park. I love running at Lapham. Its trails are groomed for cross country skiing in winter, and its hills have been given neat names like Gut Buster and Stairway to Heaven. The Lapham Peak runners have given some of the segments of trail here equally worthy names.

One of the neatest features of Lapham Peak is the tower. It is the highest point in the county and from the top you can see everything. It is also the turnaround point for the weird Trailbreaker Marathon which takes runners from roads of my hometown onto a rails-to-trails path to the Ice Age Trail, up the tower and back. It's one of those races that has to be nearly impossible to run even splits on, and that sort of intrigues me. But I digress - let's look at the view because it is beautiful.

Actually, one more side note: I always enjoy the ever-changing graffiti on the tower. Sometimes it is really profound - this one tugged at my heart. Other times, well, good for you, Zach. Good for you.

I'm rarely alone on the observation tower so I took the opportunity to grab a selfie up here. Also, I took this picture because aren't my tights awesome? InkNBurn, of course.

My run was unremarkable - I didn't run fast. I stopped for lots of photos. I only got in three miles since I had a family at home waiting for me to start cooking the Thanksgiving turkey. But I won't forget this run anytime soon.

Time to sign and wash the Singlet and send it on its way. 

Thumbs up, friends. Keep on running.

2017 Ice Age 50 Race Report (Spoiler Alert: DNF)

For the second year in a row, I got a DNF instead of a buckle at the beautiful Ice Age 50 in La Grange, WI. I made it 47.5 miles this year before calling it quits.

Training

I was ready for this race. I was hitting 50+ mile weeks with some consistency. I was training on the stair climber machines. I was doing speedwork and running some of my fastest miles. I knew I'd be chasing cutoff times, but I had put in the work. Other than a chest cold/sore throat that sneaked up on me during race week, I was ready.

All week the weather was forecast to be around 50 on race day, with a possibility of rain. Things changed just before the race, and soon the weather was predicted to be a high of 70. Warm, but you'll have that sometimes, especially in Wisconsin. I'm an early morning runner so most of my training runs have been in the cool 30 degree weather we've had in the early day. I went for shorts and a tank top instead of capris and a tech shirt and arm sleeves.

Ice Age 50: Section 1

The first section of the Ice Age trail is definitely the easiest. The blue Nordic Loop features wide trails with lots of rolling hills and a few tough climbs. These miles come easy as there are tons of people to run with and the terrain is pleasant. I was doing very comfortable 11:00 miles in this section and feeling good.

Ice Age 50: Section 2

The real race begins when the runners veer off of Nordic and take a connector trail to the rugged Ice Age trail for an out and back to Rice Lake. Steep climbs and rocky singletrack lie ahead, as do beautiful expanses of pine needle-blanketed trail. If you don't like the scenery in this section, keep going because it changes every mile. There are very runnable sections here - there's a long, relatively flat section by a lake that comes to mind - but there are also plenty of climbs. The one thing runners can't do here is get complacent on the singletrack - I saw plenty of runners go down because of a misstep on a rock. I took my only fall of the race in this section, but it was one of those mystery trips - I fell on a flat pine section: no rocks, no roots, nothing. It was a soft fall, no problem.

The day was getting hotter but plenty of sections had tree cover so I wasn't really feeling it yet. I did experience one of those "magic moments" of racing in this section: the sun was shining brightly yet somehow a gentle rain had started to fall. There was barely a cloud in the sky at this point so I had no idea how it was happening but it felt fantastic.

I felt good in this section and followed my plan of drinking Tailwind regularly and eating PB&Js at the aid stations. The day was starting to take its toll early, though. Because this section is an out-and-back, us folks in the back get to watch the faster runners on their way back in which is always fantastic. Some looked strong, but so many - even some real superstars - looked like they were struggling. I started passing people on the way back, which is very unusual for me. I later learned that the temperature had soared to 80 and stayed there until evening. I passed through the aid station at Mile 33 feeling pretty good. My race ended at 33 miles last year so it felt good to head on through this time around.

Ice Age 50: Section 3

This section was full of the unknown for me. Section Three is an out and back to the Emma Carlin trailhead, and it again featured the rocky singletrack of the Ice Age Trail with more big climbs. The sections here were not as runnable, but I ran what I could and walked the climbs. I was sore but feeling okay, and still making okay time. By some miracle, my Garmin Vivoactive stayed with me until almost Mile 39, which is a new record for that old beast - usually the battery gives in around 31/32 miles. I made it into the Emma Carlin trailhead literally at the hard cutoff, and I knew I'd have to make really good time in the last 9.5 miles to make the cutoffs that followed.

In retrospect, losing the Garmin was harder than I thought it would be. It is challenging to not know my pace, not know how many miles to the next aid station, etc. Around Mile 42 I got a side-stitch that I just couldn't shake, and I knew I couldn't afford to walk at this point. I passed a few more people but by Mile 43 I knew my race was over. The side stitch did a number on me and I just didn't have anything left. I tried to run, knowing that there was the tiniest slip of a chance that I could make the cutoffs, but I was just spent. I walked it in to Mile 47.5 (which is the 33 mile aid station where I quit last year, funny enough) and gave up. I was 2.5 miles from the finish and 15 minutes from the 12 hour cutoff.

The Good

I PRd my 50K in the first 31 miles of the race. 47.5 miles is a 14-ish mile distance PR for me. I really, truly felt good for most of the race and I had fun. The miles went by without much drama, and I just enjoyed it up until the end. I wanted that buckle so badly, and I think on a cooler day it would have been mine. But, that's running for you: race day sometimes has other plans for you.

Will I do it again? I don't know if I'll do the 50 mile at Ice Age. I recognize that this was a tough year with the heat (65% finish rate for the 50 miler this year). I love the race with ever fiber of my being, and I know I can run 50 miles, but I don't know if I enjoy the hard cutoffs. I'm not fast, and the pressure of knowing I'd be chasing cutoffs all day really made the day less fun than I like.

(Ask me again in December, when signup opens).