WARNING: Lots of words, few pictures
Ten days ago, I achieved my seventh 100-mile ‘run’ finish at
the Marji Gesick in Ishpeming, Michigan. This is predominantly a mountain bike
event that lets runners get on the course the day before the bike start. Rudy
biked (and finished!) the 2019 event, and I signed up along with him for the run since I would
be there anyhow. I didn’t finish that year, convincing myself my hip was
breaking at mile 70. I was able to run within a week after that and this is my
only DNF that I’m truly disappointed with. I had to come back.
When I signed up for the 2022 race, I had high hopes for a
smarter and stronger race. The spring and summer were just a little plagued
with nagging injuries and intense work trips, though. My running miles were
nearly half of what I’d like to get in building up to a 100 miler, but I did manage
more strength and mobility work with re- and prehab, and the human can do
surprisingly great things people! So, I had to give it a shot, especially
seeing all the inspirational stories the Marji Gesick group shares of those
whose lives were really turned upside down or even lost and now couldn’t even
start.
The weather forecast in the week leading up was showing a
good chance of rain for the weekend. With a significant portion of the course
on technical, rooty, rocky trails, this makes a finish even less likely – about
half of the 100-mile starters don’t make it to the end in even a good weather
year. Luckily there wasn’t as much rain as forecast Thursday night, or
for the start on Friday at noon. The run starts with a ‘LeBike’ loop in which we
bike a half mile course before starting down the trail. This was admittedly
fun, though silly, and just a few minutes on the bike started me off with a
little heavier feeling in my legs the first mile or so…but that is such a tiny
portion of the day!
Just take it easy the first half and be tough the second
half – sounds simple enough. I kept tabs on heartrate and tried to keep a
comfortable pace, not getting caught up with other runners going by. The course
starts on a pretty runnable 18-ish mile loop that includes Harlow Lake Trails and 'Top of the World', and
it is easy to go just a little too fast when everyone has fresh legs and is
feeling excited. Kinda wanna to go while the going is good though – I like to
think I did a decent job of pacing through here. My right foot and ankle were
getting weird twinges that I didn’t expect – a little alarming only 10 miles
in! This kept me moving carefully, particularly on any rocky stretches. The
last few miles of the section I shared with a local – Kari – embarking on her
first 100 mile. I do a lot of solo running but do enjoy getting in some nice
chat sessions.
Back by the start line and seeing my Dad and Rudy! I took
advantage of the porta potties, restocked snacks and hydration, and started down the next section of flowy singletrack, solo again. My feet were
already feeling tender, that could be a problem…pretty good otherwise, just
kept moving forward. A few more people out hiking and biking on the North
Trails, on a fairly pleasant Friday afternoon. Less traffic on the goat-tracky 'Lowe's Trail' and stretches of powerline though!
Around 30 miles the course runs behind a mall area and
another good spot for crew. More food and a bottle refill
before heading under the highway and on a mile of paved path toward
neighborhood trails and ultimately the South Trails. I got to spend a chunk of
the pavement time talking to Nick from Superior (across the bridge from my home
in Duluth), then later got in a few miles with Ellen, who I met in 2019 when
she crewed and paced that year’s super-star 100 mile run winner Andrea.
Darkness fell and the rain began. It was not steady all night, but more than
enough to make the more technical trails coming up even sketchier. Some early
fog patches challenged visibility even more – luckily that wasn’t constant
through the night either!
About 40 miles I see Dad and Rudy again, take a sit break,
refill my water pack along with the bottle, grab more snacks (so far so good on the eating!), get
the spare headlamp, and off into the rain to the Marquette Mountain trails. A
lot more black diamond trials, and a surprise muddy spot amongst some rocks
gave me my only knee scrape for the whole run (most of the soil had been sandy
and not so slick to that point!). Adam from Grand Rapids, Michigan slowed down
and joined me for ‘Scary Trail’ – he got to witness the little crash, getting
the first checkpoint (all the checkpoints were after my drop in 2019) and my
phone dialing Rudy on its own….after my phone dialed my mother at midnight, I
finally put it in airplane mode! Adam eventually continued on at his own
pace. I recall being on ‘Upper Zeugs
Trail’ and being convinced that a biker could very well meet their demise on
these slick, pointy rocks 12 hours later. My mouth was getting dry and it was a
struggle to get the second Clif bar down. Only 12 hours in, I was hoping to handle
solid food a bit longer than that, but oh well.
50-ish miles and another crew spot! Filled my bottle and packed
some blocks for calories. The next section was a bit more single track, then a
whole lot of dirt and paved path. My feet hurting a bit more, getting tired,
but I was gratefully still able to trot along – it would be a much longer haul
to have to hike something so runnable! Should have filled the water pack again
though, I ran out less than an hour later. Kept sipping on my bottle and took
advantage of another crew’s hospitality to top it off, enough to get me
to Jackson Park.
Jackson Park is about 70 miles in, and so quiet at
5-something a.m. I took the time here to put down some mashed potatoes, refill
fluids, replenish blocks, reapply anti-chafe stuff, and luckily my main
headlamp started flashing its low battery warning so I switched out while
already stopped. It was getting hard to start moving again. Within a mile I
come across my bail out point from three years ago and keep moving forward. Phew.
The RAMBA trails are twisty and turning and have some interesting artifacts of
formerly ‘in town’ – random sections of sidewalk, fence, building foundations.
I experienced a lot of de ja vu through here after sunrise, feeling like I had
already been on this section of trail or at this intersection. I became
terrified of running circles out here forever. I think I stayed on course the
whole time. Before long, the 50-mile bike racers began passing – it was fun
watching the first fast people take on some of the technical climbs. The
section concluded on Last Bluff trails. It felt like forever winding around on
top of the bluff while I could see town below. I just wanted to get down there,
but the course just wouldn’t drop down!!! Yeah, my feet hurt, I was tired, but
otherwise physically fine – I was mentally wanting to be done, just not be out
there anymore, and I don’t know why but my headspace was so negative.
Eventually came down from the bluff and into Ishpeming. Next
stop with Dad and Rudy ~85 miles, a block from the finish line and over a
marathon to go. More mashed potatoes, handed off the main headlamp to recharge
and switch my watch that was entering low battery mode. The day was getting
warm and sunny verses Friday’s cooler and damp. More fluids, more fuel, then
off again. My attitude never improved. I kept on mechanically sucking on blocks
(my teeth now hurt too much to chew sugar) and sipping water and electrolytes,
hiking ups, trying to ‘run’ downs, but the pace kept slowing more and more. I
realized I wouldn’t make it before sundown, I’d have to go into the dark again.
This got me even lower and I was fighting tears as more and more bikers came
along, further slowing progress.
Second stop in Jackson Park, 90-ish miles. It is the middle
of the day and the park is bustling full of bikers, and crews. I get a quick sit-down, restock, and head out again. At some point through the next section of singletrack, Adam flew on by –
he must have taken a nap!!
About 5 pm – 95 miles? My final crew stop on Cliff Drive. I
went ahead and broke down into a few minutes of pity party. More mashed
potatoes, replenish stuff, extra 5 minutes sitting in the van as a rain shower
flashed through. Got my headlamp, figured 5 hours for the last 15 miles. I
trudged back out. I did feel a little better after getting rid of some built up
agitation – despair did keep creeping up, but I was mostly able to give it a
back seat…at least for a few more hours! The first four 50-mile runners went by
me in this final stretch (three of them female!). It was fun to see them sail
along the singletrack, despite being jealous of their freshness. I hate to
admit that my greatest frustration was all the bikers. This is a bike
event, and I really wasn’t mad at them, just at having to stop hundreds of
times to let them go by. I had a hard time biting my tongue in the final hour
in particular, when it seemed every single one encouraged me with ‘Almost
there!’ and all I could think was ‘I would be there by now if I hadn’t
been stopping every 90 seconds’. Every start felt stiffer and slower. It all
adds to the inexplicable challenge that is Marji Gesick – it is not the most
technical, the most climbing, the slowest hundred I’ve experienced, but for
some reason it was just the hardest. My less-than-ideal training maybe added
some hours, but I think it would have been tough no matter what. Yet I kept
putting one foot in front of the other, telling everyone that went by me ‘Good
job!’, taking in the bare minimum of calories and water, trying to will
positivity. The aptly named ‘Cry Baby’ trail nearly crushed me – just a few
miles from the finish, but weaving up and down and around forever, so many
bikers going by. It seemed to be turning off the ridge, then back up we would
go. A blister was forming on my heel, my left calf was getting angry.
It didn’t go on forever, and eventually I hit the road and
made the final climb up to Jasper Knob, the final checkpoint, the ‘finisher’
token, about one mile to the end. I thought I was running, but Rudy joined me
with a quarter mile to go, easily walking alongside me. I have nothing to
prove, walking was no slower and it didn’t feel like something in my calf would
rip.
The finish line had so much energy, so much enthusiastic
cheering, but I was content to walk it in. 33 hours and 54 minutes after
hopping on the bike for a silly little loop, then on my feet for somewhere
between 106 and 113 miles with 12,000 to 15,000 feet of climbing – there’s a
lot of GPS discrepancy with that much distance, time, twists, turns, up and
down. I had hoped experience and holding back early would be enough to get me to
the finish line, and apparently it was. There are so many things I could have
done better, but I made it.
Digging out the all important tokens
The finish isn’t complete without turning in the tokens from
checkpoints along the course that racers don’t know the location, or quantity
of, beforehand. I dug four out of my pocket, the correct number this year.
Funny I dropped one on the ground here – I was so worried about dropping one on
the course whenever I took my phone from that pocket – but it only happened
when Rudy was right there to pick it up for me! Bonus, first female to finish
(only 2 others did this year). 8th of 18 finishers – 39 started and
67 were signed up. One. Hard. Race.
