2012 Superior 50 Race Report

They say you aren't a true ultrarunner until you've completed a 100-mile race and DNF'ed an ultra. I'm halfway there. The trail beat me on Saturday. I set out to run a little more than 52 miles on the Superior Hiking Trail. I covered a little less than 34 of them. I experienced a number of things I had only read about until Saturday. I have no regrets. I will rest, recover and be back in the spring.

- The trip up went fairly well. We drove the aid station route for the 50 with some minor hiccups, checked in at the hotel and the race. Had dinner with parents, prepped race equipment and supplies, went over plans and got to sleep by ten.

- Woke up at four without issue. Drank coffee, drove to Finland. Got there about 20 minutes early. Weather was chilly, but not cold, and the sun was just coming up as the race started. Used lights for the first 30 minutes. Probably would not worry about them in the future. Forced myself into a pack near the end of the line to keep myself from going out too quickly. Some banter with fellow runners, one guy much chattier than everyone else. Was exactly where I wanted to be when we got to Sonju Aid station. Removed lights and extra shirt at aid station, took no aid. 1:51

- Things separated quickly coming out of the aid station. I was running alone before long. Ran along a river, extremely nice. Cotton t-shirt a little chilly; long sleeves would have been too warm. Came into Crosby-Manitou feeling strong. Angie had me well-prepared with Vitargo, chia water, and the taking of my extra gear. She also asked me about blistering, and I remembered that I thought I should put on socks, so I did. Angie said that the word around Crosby was that the next section of trail was really tough. I had read similar reports, but I had never run. 3:00

- The section of trail from Crosby to Sugarloaf is the toughest, most technical section of trail that I have ever run. Crazy hard. There was little more than jagged rocks and roots to run on for the first four miles, and most of the trail was narrow and along steep edges. The trip down the Caribou River gorge was treacherous, and the trail out was steep and nasty. Once at the top, there were some fantastic views of Lake Superior. I am proud of myself for having the wherewithal to pause and admire them, and I am proud of myself for stopping and applying blister pads to the bottom of my left foot. A guy who passed me quoted Muhammad Ali - "It's not the mountain you climb, it's the pebble in your shoe." I learned about stopping for both of those things from books and internets. Shortly after I had scaled the gorge, at exactly 4:30 into my race, the skies opened up in pouring rain and I was stung six times by bees. The sound of the rain distracted me from the sound of the bees, so it took me a second to realize what was happening. I went from being a little tired from the climb to running as fast as I could. I saw someone's black long-sleeve shirt on the ground. I assume they lost it to the same bees. It rained pretty steadily for the next hour to hour-and-a-half. I only had a t-shirt on. It was pretty cold and miserable, but I really kept a positive attitude. I've read about that, too. Even if my mind isn't terribly concerned with the cold and rain, and the subsequent awful footing, it can go to negative places like stupid thoughts about work or people or whatever. It wasn't terribly hard to remind myself of just how lucky I am to be who I am and to be able to do what I was doing, and that kind of caught me off guard. So I kept my mental state in check, but the sloppy footing took its toll on my body. My feet were wearing down and my legs were tiring. The surface of the Superior Hiking Trail is tough in good conditions, but when it's wet it is really difficult. But I plugged along, crossing paths with several hikers, smiling. It was still fun.

- I got to the Sugarloaf aid station in decent time, slowed roughly 30 minutes from my ideal pace by reality. Angie had a good parking spot, and I got to put on dry shirts, sit in the car and drink V8 (greatest thing ever for me in a long race), Red Bull (maybe not a good idea, could lead to crashes), eat Reece's Pieces (tasty, desirable, palatable in-race calories), and have a couple plugs of Vitargo, chia water and coconut water. Tried to eat at aid station, but the rain had caused them to stop putting out new food. I took that as a sign that things were closing and that I was already running out of time. Really let that get to me. Switched to handheld bottles. Did not take Spibelt. Facing a 5.6 mile section. Had two hours to make cutoff. Should have been no problem. 5:30

- Realized instantly that the bottles did not go with the altered, hunched stance caused by running on such precarious trail. I passed a guy who was running the 100 and struggling quite a bit. Then I passed another guy who was wearing sunglasses in the daytime and bore a slight, but jarring, resemblence to BTK. I plugged on, but thoughts of diminishing time began to creep into my train of thought. I started crunching numbers, and I started measuring my progress in my head. I got inside my own head and I ate myself up. By the time I got to the Cramer Road aid station, another 15 minutes off-pace, I was in pretty tough shape, and that was tough to face halfway through a 52-mile race. I stuffed myself with calories, thinking much of my negative state was a result of being low on calories or "bonking". I slammed some Vitargo and a Red Bull and I didn't start crying. I was told I had six minutes to leave the aid station or be DNF'ed. I confirmed future cutoff times and I left, knowing that the upcoming 8 miles of trail would be as runnable as any remaining. I had to make up time here, or I was going to be done. 7:26

- I really struggled to hold it together coming out of the Cramer Road, but I got my wheels going and I started running with what I had. My lungs were fighting me and the clock was ticking in my head. This was the first section of the race that I had run before, and that might not have been much of an advantage. I thought I knew what was coming, but my meter was off. I was folding. I passed a couple of people, one guy I'd been seeing on the trail all day who was fighting his IT band and was walking everything. I went by another guy who was wearing headphones and singing to himself. I had to startle him to get by, which is terrible trail etiquette on his part. I finally started to reach the milestones I had in my head, and my clock was too far along for me to have any hope of not getting cutoff at an aid station. The upcoming aid station, Temperance River, had no cutoff, so I could leave no matter what. Sawbill, the aid station after that, had a 5:30 cutoff. There was no way I was going to make that, especially considering the climb and descent involved. I knew that section all too well, and I didn't feel safe making the descent down Carleton Peak. I let go of my hopes of finishing the Superior Trail 50, and I was fine with it. I walked into the Temperance River aid station and I told the volunteers that I was finished. One guy said that I couldn't drop there, just to prod me a little to keep going, and I told him that the luckiest man in the world was done for the day.

A small part of me thinks I could have physically made it to the next aid station, 5.6 miles. A tiny sliver wonders if I couldn't have found some legs, made that cutoff and gotten to the last aid station before I was stopped. Bottom line is that I didn't think I could do it and it didn't seem worth the pain to scuttle along anymore. My lungs weren't with me. My will was exhausted. I tried to run 52 miles on 4-4 trail and I failed, but I did succeed in running 33.8 miles of  trail. I guess one benefit of setting high goals is that you can fail to meet them and still have done something worth doing. Thanks to everyone for their questions and support. Thanks to my wife for supporting me though the training and during the race.

For the time being, I will be eating everything I see. I will be back. I will attempt 50 miles again, but perhaps my next attempt will be on a trail more forgiving than the Superior Hiking Trail.