Tuesday, September 27, 2022

Marji Gesick 2022 100-mile run

 

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.



2 comments:

  1. You are amazing & I am so proud of you!

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  2. Fun, and informative! read. That last 8-13 extra miles pisses me off :) Good work, toughie!

    ReplyDelete