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.

The Notorious Milwaukee Marathon (Pacer Report)

For the second time this month, I paced the 5:30 marathon finishers, this time for the Milwaukee Marathon.

Pacing, Generally

The job of the official pace team is to keep an appropriate pace throughout the race to lead runners to the finish time for their desired goals. Most races I've paced have pacers at varying intervals from 3:00 finishes through 5:30 finishes (I'm always on the 5:30 end - my marathon PR is around 4:55). Pacers are expected to be familiar with the race course, the location of aid stations, and generally be encouraging to everyone around them when the going gets tough. We do this while holding up a little sign that says our pace time on it so runners can locate us and join up if they get off pace, have to stop for a restroom break, etc. Here's me and my sign:

A 5:30 finish is a 12:35/mile pace, so the strategy is to run just under 12:35/mile but walk through all aid stations and power-hike the hills. If the course is 26.2 miles long (ooh...foreshadowing) that will get the runners to the finish in exactly 5 1/2 hours.

I use the "lap pace" setting on my Garmin Vivoactive to maintain an appropriate overall mile pace, but I wear a pace band that tells me what my watch should read at every mile marker, because at the end of the day, the mile markers are what count. It is impossible to run perfect tangents, especially as a pacer who often darts between runners in the area to encourage, chat, etc., so as soon as I see a mile marker I check our overall time and adjust so that we are within 10 seconds of the target by the time we pass the mile marker.

Milwaukee Marathon

The Milwaukee Marathon is in its third year, and under new management this year. The race festivities include a mile race on Saturday, plus a 5K, 10K, Half and Full Marathon. The race is run through the city of Milwaukee and highlights some great neighborhoods. It makes for a really nice tour of the city - you get to see the lakefront, the stadium, great breweries, raucous Brady Street, beautiful houses in some of the older neighborhoods, the Hank Aaron trail, and so much more. In theory, this should be a great race.

But it has its struggles. It is actually amazing the race got off the ground at all - the race organizer faced very public opposition from a city alderman before ultimately receiving approval for the event. The race's inaugural year let down a lot of runners by failing to secure alcohol permits for the promised post-race beer. In its second year, the marathon course ran 3/4 of a mile long. Obviously, it could be worse, but little complaints stack up over time.

Under new management this year, the race showed a lot of promise. The branding on the website and the finishers shirt and medal were all great (although everyone got a shirt that said Milwaukee Marathon, even if they ran the 1/2 or 10K. I heard comments from people running the lower distances that they didn't feel right wearing a "marathon" shirt when they hadn't run a marathon. I can understand that). But there were bigger struggles to be had.

The weather.

Your training can be on point all season, but you can never account for what kind of weather race day will bring. All week the forecast predicted rain, but the majority of the rain fell overnight creating a huge mud pit at the start/finish line party area. The rain turned into a fine mist by the race's start, but strong gusting winds remained a challenge for the whole race (especially when you are holding up a sign that feels like a sail in the wind). I'll be honest - if this was a training run day for me, I'd have stayed in bed.

The Course

As noted, the course itself is actually pretty great but the bad weather led to very little crowd support. With under 600 people running the marathon, after Mile 9 (where the half marathoners broke off from the full marathon route) there were spots that felt pretty damned desolate in neighborhoods that I wouldn't walk alone in at night. Fortunately, as a pacer, I had a lovely group with me so we made the run fun, even when the route left a little to be desired.

The Big Error

My pace team was clicking the miles by just as anticipated. For example, I hit Mile 20 at 4:11:53, with a target of 4:11:44 (so about 9 seconds over). By Mile 21 we were approaching the Hank Aaron Trail, which included an out-and-back up the trail. After the turnaround point I could see the next mile marker in the distance. It seemed a little far to me, but perception can get a little weird after 4+ hours of running, so I picked up the pace slightly and proceeded. But as we approached, the marker that should have said Mile 22 instead said Mile 23.

Where did Mile 22 go? There was no way we could have missed a turn - it was a straight-shot out and back, with a string of cones marking the turnaround. But if that was really Mile 23, we were now a good 11 miles ahead of pace.

A a pacer, that gave me a lot to consider. Was that really "officially" Mile 23? Were we really just 3.2 miles from the finish, or would those markers be stretched out to make up for the lost mile? My copacer and I checked with our runners: what did they want to do? We are there for them, after all. We could slow way down, hope that we really were 3.2 miles from the finish, and bring everyone in at 5:30, but frankly that seemed dumb. And if we were 4.2 miles from the finish, like we should have been, we would have totally screwed our runners by doing that. After all the weather we had experienced, our runners just wanted to be finished. We had a bunch of first timers with us, and I don't blame them. We maintained a 12:35-ish pace and brought our runners in about 12 minutes early.

Sadly, the weather ruined what would have been a really epic after-party. The food trucks and beer were there, but after being blown around for 5 1/2 hours, I just wanted hot coffee and a shower. That's a damn shame for the race organization, but such are the perils of planning an October marathon in Wisconsin.

So where did Mile 22 go?

I wanted to make sure that I didn't hallucinate my way into a huge pacing error, so I've been reading the comments on the Marathon's website. I wasn't hallucinating. Some great internet sleuths seem to have found the error - the turnaround on the Hank Aaron Trail was set way too short. Someone commented that there was actually a Mile 22 marker - apparently the Marathon had posted a photo of it - but the turnaround spot was marked before runners would get to it.

In the big scheme of things, that's not a big deal for most 5:30 finishers. They get their finish, which is the goal for 80% of them. But what about the seasoned runners looking for a PR? What about the Boston qualifiers? This was a USATF certified course, but I think it really was marked wrong. The turnaround point was set too early.

Unfortunately, the race management seems to be standing by its course rather than admitting there may have been a mistake. Apparently enough people were talking about the problem that it got the attention of the Milwaukee Jounal Sentinal, but the race organizers are going with the "our course is right and everyone's GPS is wrong" defense:

**

Some runners wondered if the course was shy of the 26.2 miles.

A half-dozen runners confirmed with the Journal Sentinel that their fitness trackers with GPS had them coming in at about 25.5 to 25.8 miles. (Another runner said their GPS had them coming in short on the 10K race as well.) Three marathon runners said Miles 21-23 seemed short, and two said they never saw a Mile 22 marker.

Last year, this marathon exceeded 26.2 miles by as much as a mile or two for the fastest, front-of-the-pack runners.

Joe Zimmerman, president of ROC Productions, which now produces the PNC Milwaukee Marathon, said extra care was taken to get the course right this year with the assistance of Chad Antcliff, the technical expert who has overseen the race the last three years.

“We took as many precautions as we could to make sure the distance was absolutely accurate,” said Zimmerman. “We triple-checked and verified.”

Zimmerman said that when he heard the race might be coming in a bit short, he talked to pacers and runners and had his course marshals go out and check mile markers to make sure they matched up with the way the USA Track & Field course certifier marked it.

“And it was right on point,” said Zimmerman. “We can’t find anything that leads us to believe that the course is inaccurate.”

The course was measured and is USATF certified, he said, and it was measured to the inside corner of the course.

“As we all know, GPS is not 100% accurate,” said Zimmerman.

There might be areas where GPS may not have given the best readings, like the Hank Aaron Trail, or the spiral staircases that came down on 6th St.

**

That's a really disappointing response, and I really hope it doesn't mar what has the potential to be a really fantastic marathon. There was so much they did right: great route, free race photos, great shirt, great medal, potentially great finish line party (but for the weather). But I'm afraid that response from the race is, unfortunately, going to put off a lot of serious runners.

Distance issues and weather aside, I have to say I enjoyed this marathon more than I thought I would. The 5 1/2 hours passed quickly, which is really a hard thing to say about a marathon. If the race can overcome yet another year of mismarked mileage, I will run this one again, either as a pacer (hopefully I'm invited to pace again despite our early arrival at the finish line) or a runner.

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).

I'm trying not to panic.

So last December I had this brilliant idea:  I'll try to register for the Ice Age Trail 50 miler.  I've already done a 50K, so a 50 miler would be the next logical step, right?  And besides, that race fills up fast.  The chances of me getting in are slim.

Famous last words.

Thank you for using the website of RunRace.net to submit your event registration.
+---  Race Information  ---+
Race Name: Ice Age Trail 50 - 2016
  Location: La Grange
    State: Wisconsin, U.S.A.

+---  Event Information  ---+
Name of Event: Ice Age Trail 50 Mile
      Distance: 50
  Measurement: Miles
          Date: Saturday May 14th, 2016
    Start Time: 6:00 AM

So like any sane person, I celebrated for a moment, panicked for a moment, consulted /r/running on Reddit for a training plan, and mapped out the mileage that I'd have to accumulate over the coming months.

The training was going very well.  I hit most of my miles and got in my most important runs.  I did Crossfit a few days a week along the way and overall I felt stronger and faster than I've ever felt.

Then the littlest plague-beast came home with a bad cough.

Don't let this cuteness fool you.  This sweet little guy became a mess of respiratory gunk.  And little people loooooove to share their respiratory gunk with their mommas.  Within ten days, I was the sniffling, sneezing, aching, coughing, stuffy-headed, fevered mess that the Ny-Quil ads warned me about.  And with every deep breath I could hear the telltale wheeze-and-pop of bronchitis that I struggled with two years ago.

Shit.

A planned 50-mile week dropped to a 30 mile week, which was followed up with a 15-mile week - not exactly ultra-distances.  I consulted Dr. Google and learned that I should not run for at least two weeks, that I should run more, and that I probably have Lupus.  I followed that up with a call to Dr. Reddit who was quite encouraging, but only slightly more helpful.

But the good news is that through it all, I didn't break my runstreak, and I seem to be on the mend.  The bad news is that this took a very solid chunk out of my training.  I have a marathon in 9 days that I'm using as a training run, and the longest I've run this week is 2 miles.  I'm trying not to panic, but...

It's proving to be difficult.  

Right now, I'm going to try to get in one 10 mile run before the marathon next weekend.  I'll take it easy on marathon day and see how it goes.  If I crash and burn, I have another marathon/training run later in the month that I'll try to use to redeem myself.  

I guess I'm just going to go out there and hope for the best.  

Does anyone have any advice on training after an illness?

2Toms - A Product Rave and a Cautionary Tale

Disclaimer: I received some samples of 2Toms Sport Shield to review as part of being a BibRave Pro. Learn more about becoming a BibRave Pro (ambassador), and check out BibRave.com

The dreaded chafe.

I don't chafe easily, but when I do, I do it in spectacular fashion.  After spending my first relatively high-mileage summer a few years back training in blissfully low humidity, I woke up on the morning of my first marathon to record heat and humidity.  It was the kind of humidity that fogs your glasses and makes you gasp for air.  It was ugly, but I thought I was ready for it:  I had purchased Body Glide earlier in the year - everyone loves Body Glide, right?  I decided it was time to give it a try.  I applied it to all of the necessary areas, I ran 26.2 miles, and I chafed badly.  I'll spare you the details, but let's just say I didn't even know that women could chafe there.

Yeah.  Please don't think about that too long.  In fact, let's never speak of that again.

Needless to say, ever since then I've been very interested in finding an alternative to Body Glide.

I first heard about 2Toms from the guys on the fabulous Ten Junk Miles podcast.  They absolutely rave about the 2Toms line.  Their commentary piqued my interest, but I was never able to find it in stores and I wasn't quite ready to pull the trigger on buying it online.  But when BibRave gave me an opportunity to review it, I jumped at the chance to try it.

I totally should have bought 2Toms Sport Shield ages ago.

I received the women's 2Toms Sport Shield in two forms:  a roll-on bottle, and a few individually wrapped wipes.

I couldn't wait to try it.  I've spent a fair amount of time this winter putting in miles on the indoor track at the Pettit Ice Center.  While I love having the Pettit as an option, its extremely dry climate combined with the relentlessness of long track miles (oh look, a left turn...another left turn...hey, I think I'll turn left up here...) wreaked havoc on my feet.  I started getting blisters for the first time ever.  Blisters are not an option for a streak runner.

Fortunately, my 2Toms arrived just in time.  I started using the roll-on Sport Shield on my toes, and the blistering issues went away.  I've logged six runs longer than thirteen miles at the Pettit in the past few months, and the blistering issue that I was struggling with is totally gone.  I'll spare you a picture of my feet as proof (I'm rocking two black toenails right now, so my career as a foot model is on hold for the time being) but the piggies have never felt happier.

My Pettit bag:  headphones, water bottle, cash, GUs, and 2Toms.

And 2Toms doesn't seem to sweat off, either.  I'll own up to the fact that my feet get pretty sweaty, but the 2Toms didn't seem affected.  I've only ever needed a single application for a run.

The 2Toms Sport Shield single use wipes are great too - without getting too PG-13 in my descriptions, the wipes are great for getting at all of the nooks and crannies that can chafe and blister.  I was a little worried the first time I opened the wipes - they felt a little dry.  I think because they are packaged like wet-naps, I expected them to be as moist as wet-naps, but they aren't.  They aren't supposed to be.  But they work wonderfully, and are a must-have in my race bag.

And now, my cautionary tale.  2Toms is slippery - good news for your body, but potentially bad news for other things.  For instance, if you lube up your feet and then walk across your hardwood floor before putting on socks, the 2Toms may leave a slick residue on your floor.  It won't be visible, but it will be there waiting for you.  And this residue may be so slippery that, days later, when you are in a haste to get ready for work you may find yourself skidding comically across your floor in a fashion usually reserved for cartoon characters stepping on banana peels.  And in doing so you may fall on your ass in such a spectacularly noisy fashion that you wake everyone in the house.  I'm not saying that happened to me, but...well, just be careful.  This stuff is slick.

Want to try 2Toms for yourself?  Here's the deets:

Find them at 2Toms.com

Check MediDyne's Facebook page.

Follow 2Toms on Twitter.

And best of all:  get 20% off of your order through the end of April, 2016 by using the code "2Toms20"

Ten Things Pettit Runners Know

If you are a runner in the greater Milwaukee area, you are lucky.  Not only do you have a great running club and great local races, but you also have the Pettit National Ice Center's run/walk track to help you stay in top condition during our long, cold winters.  I have spent many Saturdays and Sundays this winter making my slow way around the track.  (Personal record:  61 laps).

I'm grateful to have the Pettit.  It beats running on icy sidewalks in wind chills that get into the double-digits below zero.  But like anything, you sometimes have to take the good with the bad.

Ten Things Pettit Runners Know

1.  There's always something to see on the ice.  The Pettit hosts all kinds of great ice skating events, from ice hockey to skating lessons to speed skating time trials.  When your friends ask you if you ever get bored running in circles, you can tell them about the adorable kids you saw taking their first steps onto the ice, the raucous hockey match you witnessed, or the figure skaters you saw practicing their routines.

2.  But it can be a little dull, too.  Running isn't always exciting, right?  The key to a good, long workout at the Pettit is a good playlist, some good podcasts, or some good company.

3.  After a few laps, you'll either be great at math, or you'll forget how to count.  The track is 445.2 meters long (measured on the inside lane), which makes a mile slightly under four laps.  Because that makes for some ugly math, runners going for long distances track laps instead of miles and then calculate their mileage at the end by using the handy chart by the track.  But even counting laps gets strangely challenging after about a dozen times around the circle.  Maybe we all get a little dizzy by then?

4.  Fifty-five degrees is not as warm as it sounds.  When the whether outside is below zero, a run in perfectly controlled 55 degree conditions sounds lovely.  But with the Pettit's low humidity, it actually feels pretty cold.  A hat and gloves are nice to have until you get warmed up.

5.  The Pettit Lung is real.  That dry air can wreak havoc on your lungs and you might develop a bit of a hacking cough after a hard workout on the track.  Still better than freeze-your-face-off wind chill.  Have a nice cup of hot tea after you cool down from your run - it seems to help.

6.  Sometimes you have to pull over for the National Anthem.  Many of the sporting events at the Pettit kick off with the National Anthem.  You may be in the middle of an 800, but the right thing to do is pull over, take off your hat, and listen respectfully.   Your 800 will be there when the song is done.

7.  You'll see all kinds of characters on the track.  There's the barefoot guy who makes his way around the track with a slow-but-steady distinct cadence.  Army guys and gals run in between sets of situps.  You'll always see a few impossibly fast people who make the rest of us look like we're taking a leisurely stroll.  And there's nothing quite as humbling as being passed by a kid who looks like he's about six - kids are welcome at the Pettit run/walk track, and the few that I've seen there have always been super fast and incredibly awesome.

8.  Zamboni Crossing is an actual thing.  Look both ways!

9.  You may start to wonder what it would be like to run a marathon around a track.  And if you really want to see what it's like, you can!  The Icebreaker Indoor Marathon takes place every January.  94.9 laps around the Pettit will get you to 26.2 miles.  (The less cuckoo among us can opt for the half marathon, which comes in at about 48 laps.  But if 94.9 laps doesn't feel like enough, there's always the Gold Medal Challenge, where runners can do the half marathon and the full marathon on consecutive days).  The post-race cookies make it all worthwhile.

10.  We're lucky to have the Pettit.  It keeps us off the treadmill during these long, cold winters.