Ice Age Trail 50 Race Report (5/11/13)

50 miles in 11 hrs and 31 minutes.


Pre-Race
Rolling out of the tent in sweat pants and a thermal shirt at 4am race morning, there was an obvious chill in the air but the early hour conditions foreshadowed just the type of weather I prefer to run long in: cool and overcast.  After wrestling for some time in an attempt to restart the fire from the night before, Annie "Prometheus" Werner crawled out of the tent and took over the duties while I started to boil water for coffee and oatmeal on our portable stovetop.  In under 5 minutes, we had a roaring fire and it was time to change into my running gear and focus on the race.

Cooking up the oatmeal and coffee with a roaring fire

I had burned too much time ineffectively struggling to relight the fire; time was short and I ended up eating oatmeal and burning my mouth with the scalding coffee on the 30 minute drive to the start, as Annie drove and Bella rode in the back, wondering why we'd left a perfectly good campsite full of sticks so early in the morning.  This would be my first attempt at running an official ultra marathon (I'd run 32 miles last year in honor of my sister's 32nd birthday, but that was a solo venture) and I just hoped I had it in me that day.

The start line seemed innocuous enough, a parking lot swathed in lycra covered athletes, arriving in cars that boasted various distances of merit attached to their rear bumper by way of magnet.  One car was so committed as a mobile tool of ultra advertisement, the license plate read "RUNA100."  I quickly realized that, as a first timer, I might well be in the minority, which was both comforting (lots of wisdom on the trail) and worrisome (would I be able to hang???) at the same time.


The Race

Loop 1
I started in the back (and stayed there for the rest of the day).  The first loop of the course was a 10 mile jaunt through prairie, with tree coverage sporadically interspersed throughout a trail wide enough to typically accommodate several runners wide.  By unanimous decision, the hills were walked and I followed suit with the majority rule ahead of me.  I conscientiously check (and re-checked) my watch for pace, inevitably slowing down as the numbers reflected too fast a pace.  The original goal had been to finish in 10 hrs and required a 12min/mile pace.  Given the topography of the prairie section, I rationalized that an 11 min/mile pace was warranted and would strategically give me a buffer for the later miles.  Later I would regret this decision.

The start of the race!

I ran solo for the first few miles, focused on staying relaxed and enjoying running on a new trail.  Eventually, I fell in with a group of veteran female runners, each having ran the IAT50 an obscene number of times, not to mention having finished notoriously challenging 100s (Western States, Leadville, etc.).  The rest of the miles passed quickly as we gave meaning to the term 'conversational' pace.

Ending the prairie loop, Annie was waiting with refreshments and a change of shoes.  Slipping out of my road shoes in favor of trail shoes and grabbing a PB&J, I ran off, forgetting to shed my comfortable red thermal shirt I'd left on for a warmup.  I love that thermal too much to just toss it at the next aid station and committed myself to wearing it for the next 10 miles.  

Loop 2
Loop 2 started the single track running that would last the rest of the race, thinning out the runners and introducing the real hills.  Occasionally, we would exit into open prairie and scenic views before delving back into the woods again.  The terrain was beautiful and the scent of pine refreshing (ahhhh, the fresh scent of conifer!).  The soft bed of pine needles generously donated by the groves of conifers cemented that glorious tree as a true tree among saplings, in my humble opinion.  The shift from dirt and rock to soft pine was a welcome one when it came and missed when it passed.  Aid stations were thoughtfully placed, seeming to arrive early in the beginning of the run and late towards the end, just as they should.  The volunteers staffing the stations were incredible; patiently filling cups and bottles and ensuring that each running received what they needed.  If trail karma exists, the volunteers should be reaping their reward soon.  The up and down terrain was consistent but not overly taxing and I maintained the 11 min/mile avg pace with minimal effort.

The turnaround point of loop 2 was around mile 20.  Annie was again waiting with Bella and I changed out of the sweaty cotton thermal and into the long sleeved Skippo tech shirt I'd brought "just in case."  It was chilly enough to warrant a light jacket, but I had not thought of that "in case" and the long sleeves would have to do.



The return to loop 2 brought about a painful departure from my earlier race plan, when at mile 25 my right quad seized up and started to cramp.  I'd been taking S! Caps roughly every hours and had been mixing the occasional Heed elixir in with my water, but apparently my leg muscles were not satisfied with the current accommodation.  I finished off one of the 6oz. bottles of water/heed I had been carrying, popped an S! Cap and resolved myself to walking.  The cramping passed and I was able to run a couple miles before the cramping returned.  This was going to be a challenge.  In the past, I'd found that sports drinks (such as Heed) could temporarily relieve the cramping, but at the cost of one very unhappy tummy.  If I was going to run the next 25 miles, I needed to tune into my body and walk a tightrope of nutrition.  Once I made it to the next stop, I drank a cup of Heed, a cup of water, filled my bottles with the half and half concoction and, listening to the will of the body, also had a cup of Ginger Ale.  A good choice.  After a few munchies and feeling refreshed, I relaxed back into a slower pace.  Along the way to the next aid station, I managed to make another set of trail buddies and the miles passed under a steady stream of conversation.

At the segue just before the second loop, around mile 30, Annie was again waiting with fresh peaches, a pb&j and words of encouragement.  Coincidentally, this would also be around the time the front runners were finishing the race.  Oh...if only I could be so fast!  I filled my bottles again and went back to the trail.

Nearing the end of loop 2

Loop 3
Roughly 1 mile in after leaving the aid station, the leg cramps struck again, this time harassing my calfs as well as my quads.  I bid farewell to my trail mates and returned to walking.  This was clearly going to be the pattern and I committed myself to more S! Caps and more of the dreaded Heed.  Loop 2 ended as Loop 3 began.  The land of little hills gave way to the land of climbs, as I stared up at a climb that a passing hiker promised was "well worth the view."  I would make sure to remember that on the way back!  Committing myself to the hike, I fell behind two more soon to be trail buddies.  We started to put some miles down, with the occasional cramp taking me out but somehow catching back up before I pulled ahead about a mile out from the turnaround point.  Loop 3 was my favorite section of trail, but my least favorite section to run that day, landing in the unfortunate realm of "I'm exhausted, my legs keep cramping and damnit there's no WAY I'm making 10 hrs."  Loop 3 offered more climbs and drops, with three muddy crossings.  If I were to go for a training run in the area, this would be the loop I would choose.

The turnaround of loop 3 was at mile 40.  Annie was prepared, camera in hand, and carrying whatever refreshments I may need.  I'd ran out of the gels I'd packed (3) and decided to load up on a couple more.  I had decided to reduce gel intake to mitigate any stomach problems from the unanticipated intake of Heed.  The whole foods and Heed, I hoped, would be enough in terms of replenishing my glycogen stores.  I had also been feeling a pain in my right heel for the last several miles.  Looking down, my outer ankle bone had fiendishly doubled in size.  I sensed a conspiracy forming on the right side of my body and was very disappointed in its behavior.  There was nothing to be done about it now.  Leaving the aid station seemed an unattractive, but ultimately necessary, choice.  I lingered longer than I probably should have before finally saying goodbye and catching up with the two trail buddies I'd met earlier.  

The beautiful views of the Emma Carlin trailhead

More of the landscape at the turnaround point of loop 3.  Such a beautiful trail.

Only 10 more miles left....

 I focused on the job still to be done and started to put some miles down, walking the hills and leaning back on the surprisingly painful downhills.  With 45 miles down and 5 miles left, I entered "the dark zone."  There wasn't a large, cathartic blowing of a gasket but more so being on the losing end of a steady war of attrition.  I had been battling leg cramps for HOURS, the sun looked to be setting soon and I had been standing since sunrise.  I ran the numbers in my head: if I walked the rest of the way I MIGHT make the 12 hr cutoff.  I revisited what I could have done differently: train more? started slower? blood doped??!!  Over the next mile or so, I decided I never wanted to run again and that sitting down was the only thing I wanted to do.  So I did.  I squatted next to the trail, keeping my feet below me and allowing my butt to drop - giving me both a break from the running and a nice stretch to the quads.  What was I going to do?  How would I feel if I decided to stop?  ...wait...decided to stop?  Who said I was going to stop?!!  I'm not stopping with less than 5 miles left!  I groaned back to standing and started to shuffle ahead.  Looking down, occasionally my pace would drop to 12 min/mile and at those times, I felt like I was flying.  I've never worked so hard to move so slow.  Throughout this steady battle, a fellow first timer was also travelling through this land of darkness.  We managed to trade leads back and forth, and it often felt like when I was descending, she would pull ahead and through some type of momentum induction pull me forward again.  Soon the sounds of announcements could be heard through the trees and I knew I was close.  On my way, I passed one of the veteran females I'd met earlier in the day, as well as a trail buddy from loop 2.  I was inspired by how positive they were, after so many hours of endurance.  After 1 final climb, I saw the finish and sprinted towards it.  Objective observers may dispute the use of the term sprint.

Running to sit down!

I'd finished it.  In a time of 11 hrs and 31 minutes, I'd managed to cover 50 miles on foot, injury free.  What did I do to celebrate?  I sat down.

Sitting down.

In two days, it will be a new year, with new goals,  new experiences, and (of course) renewed hope that I can make myself into a respectable blogger!

A couple of weeks ago, I committed myself to the looming task of tackling a 50 mile trail run in Northern Wisconsin.  The Ice Age Trail 50 will be run Saturday, May 11th.  The race actually sold out in under 3 days!  I'm very excited not only to run this race, but to see how my body adjusts and evolves into being a ultra marathon runner!

Given the insane amount of running required to train for this event, I'm reducing the amount of weightlifting throughout the week.  Speaking of weightlifting....

I just set a personal flat bench press p.r. of 260# !!!!  It's the heaviest I've ever been able to press and, to be honest, I'm been riding a tsunami of self satisfaction all week!  The pr came after running a fast 6 miles on the treadmill, so I'd like to think I could even hit 265#.

So, summing it up and closing with a commitment:  I will be running 50 miles in 20 weeks.  I've set the goal at  finishing in 9 hrs (or less).  I'm also committing myself to posting once a week (likely on Sundays) what my running (and lifting?) week has looked like, as well as what interesting photos I can take along the trails.

Race Report - Steelhead 70.3 Half Ironman (Benton Harbor, MI) 08/19/2012

We are IRONMEN (...and women)!!!  This past weekend, my wife, myself and a Missouri man and his fiancé completed our next tier of endurance sport - the Half Iron Man!  This will certainly be my longest post to date, which is not surprising considering it is my longest race to date (second place goes to the 32 miler I ran in June, that one clocked in at roughly 5hrs28mins).  So, grab some snacks, pull up a chair and enjoy my FIRST ever Race Report for a Half Iron Man!


The Lead Up
Friday
Planning for a relaxing day before our race, Annie and I arrived at our "Home-Away" home Friday around 3pm, leaving us just enough time to unload our bikes and bags, reload ourselves back into the car and drive to packet pickup at Jean Klock Park.  Jean Klock Park would also be homebase for the race Sunday, so packet pickup provided our first glimpse at the destiny we had invested so many hours and dollars into.

Registration was a breeze.  Out of the 1500 registered competitors, 150 showed up Friday to pick up their packets, resulting in absolutely no waiting  in line.  The volunteers were mostly retired residents of St. Joe and the surrounding community and were incredibly positive and helpful.  We were surprised, though, at the lack of goodies in our goody bag!  The bag was of high quality material and is sure to last, but we were bummed to discover that along with our t-shirt and bib numbers, the only give away was a washer detergent... for cleaning your washer.  Really???

There were also an incredibly small number of vender tents set up selling their wares, far different from the cornucopia of venders and samples that assault the senses at half/full marathon pickups.  Regardless, we walked the lane of vendors and sampled some of the "bonk breaker" bars that would be available throughout the course (delicious, but pricey).

Finally, we risked jinxing ourselves and took some pictures by the finish line before heading out to grab a pizza down in St. Joe with the couple we would be staying with.

Outside of packet pick-up in Jean Klock park

Finisher Shirts!

The Finish Line

Annie was particularly photogenic that day :)

Saturday

The next morning we slept in...till 7am St Louis time (8am their time).  I made a huge fruit smoothie using some fresh peaches, old bananas and preservative-packed OJ.  Following a smoothie and some coffee, we were ready to try wearing wetsuits for the first time!  Lake Michigan was an absolutely perfect temperature and, after kicking around in the water for 30 minutes, we felt as prepared as we were going to be for the 1.2 mile swim the next morning.  I should probably mention that this would be our very first triathlon, as well as the first time we've had to swim in open water.

"Banana Peeling" our way out of our suits and drying off, we made our way to the body marking station and had our race numbers marked on both arms, then our age by the end of the year written on the back of one leg.  These would be our badges of honor over the weekend and have the added benefit of acting as a very effective sunblock.  We won't be forgetting these numbers any time soon, as the pale skin that was exposed beneath the ink following a long shower Sunday evening showed that we will be branded until we either get back in the sun or our present tan fades away.  Oh the memories!

We headed back home (35 minutes) to tune up our bikes one last time and take them for a brief test ride.  Thank you Alpine Shop (http://www.alpineshop.com/) for your free bike maintenance class, as I had no problem tweaking the brakes and gears to offer smooth braking and shifting on both bikes.  After much debate, we also decided it would be best to drop our bikes off the night before so we could take the shuttle to the start the next morning.  Parking was roughly a mile away and not checking your bike the night before translated into having to bike ALL of your stuff into the transition area from the parking lot.  Not worth the hassle.  We loaded BACK into the car, bikes in tow and drove (35 minute) back to Jean Klock Park.

We were definitely ready to hit the hay, but first needed to carb up!  Our good friend Nathan gifted us some delicious heart shaped pasta the week before, so we boiled it up while our friends cooked some chicken and we had a delicious dinner in no time, rounded out by a large bowl of fresh greens.  At 8pm Benton Harbor time, it was time to close up shop and hit the hay.  Tomorrow was the big day!

Looks like a pro!

Halfway there...

I'm ready!

Race Number 1230

Race Number 539

Carb'n up

Thanks Nathan!

RACE DAY

Pre-race
BEEP BEEP BEEP It was 3:50am, but race day was here.  Countless hours of training, countable dollars of gear, all leading up to this one day.  Turning off the alarm, we rose with purpose in our minds and hopefully strength in our bodies.  I had my usual race morning breakfast - a fast cup of coffee and a pb&honey sandwich - but decided to add a peach for the extra boost I assumed the HIM would require.  Annie chose to follow suit, sans peach but adding a banana.  Finished my morning ritual (runners will understand), packed the car, took a deep breath and started the drive (35 mins) to the race.  WAIT - I FORGOT TO GRAB MY SAMMICHES!  Turned around, ran inside and grabbed the two pb&honey sandwiches I had made that morning to eat in transition.  Okay, off we go....

We were early enough to be in the first wave of athletes to stage their gear, so we had plenty of time to methodically organize exactly how we wanted to set up our gear for our transition.    A HUGE thank you goes out to my mom for buying my the GYST BP2 I used in transition.  It kept things simple and clean.  The nerves were starting to kick in, so I played an encore to the port-a-potty before hitting the beach with Annie, carrying our wetsuits the 1.2 miles down to the swim start.

Everything I took with me (minus the bike of course)

Here we go...

                                                            Before and After of my transition

                                                            Before and After of Annie's transition


Swim (36min 49sec)
We watched the pro's go, then wave after wave of age groupers before it was finally Annie's turn to put all of her training to use.  The blow horn sounded and, without hesitation, she bounded into the water.  Due to the recent drought and high temps in MI, the lake was at a record low so she actually had to run  30-40 yards through the water before it was finally deep enough to start swimming.  From that point on, she blended into a sea of swimmers and it was time for me to start mentally focusing.  I was the final wave of the day.

The entire time training, I had planned on starting in the very back and walking in to allow enough space for my newbie self to be safe from the other, more experienced triathletes.  However, all that changed when I felt that eternal flame of competition first ignite, then swell inside of me.  No, I would not be in the back of the pack today.  Instead, I would place myself in the second row behind the start line.  Far enough away not to risk over confidence, but close enough to strike!  The horn sounded and one single purposed mass of 25-29 year old men swarmed into the inviting 67 degree waters of Lake Michigan.  My race had begun.

Hands occasionally touched feet in the beginning, but the rhythm of the stroke-stroke-stroke-breath-stroke-stroke-stroke-breath fell into place and, minus a few drifts uncomfortably far from the buoys and an unfortunate arm-pitting of one man's face, my first open water swim exceeded everything I had hoped for.  I felt great.  I had no idea how far or for how long I had been swimming when I sighted the red buoy.  I wasn't sure if it was marking the halfway point or end since my goggles had a light fog that prevented me from seeing any type of distance in detail.  It turned out to be the ending buoy, signalling the swimmers to turn in and begin their amphibious assault towards T1.  Running up the beach, a huge grin stretched out across my face.  The race had started and I was in it!

T1 (7mins 10secs)
Slowing as I entered transition, I quickly found my transition point.  A competitor I had talked to earlier arrived at nearly the same time and took his time ensuring everything was ready for the bike portion.  Taking a cue from him, I removed my wetsuit, thoroughly dried what I could (I had worn my bike shorts and shirt under the wetsuit) and donned my socks and sneakers for the bike. Yes, you read that right.  I did not have clipless pedals, nor did I have clip-in pedals.  I would be biking with flat pedals wearing sneakers.  Aerobars?  What aerobars?  My Fuji rides just fine with the bars it came with ;)  Slapping on my helmet and shoving pb&honey into my mouth, I made my way out of transition.

Bike (3hrs 6mins 5secs)
The bike started fast and on pavement.  I had set a goal of hitting an avg of 18mph and the speed I was hitting early on made that goal seem like a bar set low.  Channeling the advice I had picked up a few days earlier, I kept my effort level flat so as not to burn out on the bike and planned to go negative split.  That would all change as we turned right and transitioned from smooth, paved speed to country road.  Not smooth.  Not paved.  Definitely not easy speed.  Pumping the pedals, I made the conscious decision that, come bumps, cracks, and gravel, I would hit 18mph.  My ego was inflating as I passed bikes that were worth easily double, triple, etc. what I had paid for mine.  Yes, I belonged here.  I was doing well.  All that quickly deflated when I was passed around mile 10.  The overweight guy I had noticed in my wave?  He was now to my left.  Not only was he now to my left, but yelling at me, "I BET YOUR GONNA GO A LOT FASTER NOW THAT YOU'VE BEEN PASSED BY A FAT GUY!!!"  While my senses reeled to absorb everything that had just happened, he dissapeared ahead of me, a sizable blip blending into the horizon.  I mended my ego with soft condolences and promises that yes, I would go a lot faster and make sure I caught him on the run!

 This was my first organized ride, having aid stations along the way to refuel and re-energize riders.  Finding the proper compromise between pace and safety when grabbing bottles, gel and food was found quickly, as the first volunteer was unfortunate enough to be sacrificed for my learning curve, nearly loosing a hand as we contacted on the bottle exchange.  Slower exchanges would be the rule from that point on.  Somewhere near the halfway point, a major hiccup occurred.  Shifting to a lower gear, I heard ka-chunk.  My chain had fallen off.  I hopped quickly off the bike and tried to slap the chain back into place.  Ka-chunk.  I tried again.  Ka-chunk.  This wasn't going to work.  I stopped, stood up and took a deep breath, calming the adrenaline that had been flowing since my wave had hit the water, and mentally coached myself to calmly put the chain back on.  I put the chain back on.

In total, there were 4 aid stations.  I cruised through 3 of them, grabbing a full gatorade at each and making sure it was empty by the next station.  I wore a 2L hydration pack on my back and was sure to compliment my gatorade intake with lots of water.  Towards the end of the bike, my side started to feel tight and the mixture of sugar, energy gels and liquid felt to be reaching a tipping point.  The fourth station was skipped and I started to grind out the last few miles.

Rounding the final curve, I check my watch.  AVG SPEED = 18 MPH.

T2 (5min 37sec)
Hopping off the bike and slowly jogging it in, I had two very pressing things on my mind: change my clothes and relieve the 4 liters of water and gatorade I had consumed in the last 3 hours.  Having opted to not wear a tri-suit, I wrapped myself up in a large beach towel, exchanged bike shorts for running shorts, slipped on my trusty running shoes (kudos Big River Running - http://www.bigriverrunning.com/) and walked the 10 feet to the port-o-potty.  When I finished I was ready to run.  WAIT - MY SAMMICH!  I grabbed my final pb&honey and headed toward the transition exit shoveling the rare bit of solid food in my mouth.  I spotted a sunblock station and sacrificed a minute to prevent melanoma before heading out on my run.

Run (1hr 57mins 18secs)
There always seems to be an extra bit of inertia in the legs after a long bike ride, as if the blood in your bike muscles needs to be re-routed to fuel the run muscles. However, this time seemed to be different.  My legs felt GREAT.  In fact, my whole body felt great.  I had to mentally coach myself to slow down - 7:45min/miles was not how I should start out, no matter how great I felt.  Pulling back on the pace, I started hitting my new default, 8:45min/miles.  Since cramping is such a problem for me, I had decided to stop at every aid station, walk and gulp down at least 1 cup gatorade 1 cup water, more if I felt I needed it.  Around the 5 mile mark, I saw my wife.  Or I should say, she heard me!  She turned around after hearing me talking to another running and I sped up to meet her.  Running the numbers, I had expected to meet her a little earlier given our training speeds, but sure enough she had also found another gear and had really blown away the swim and the bike.  We ran/walked together for a few minutes and then I was off again, hitting just under 9 minute miles.

It was incredible how great the run felt.  I almost felt remorse at having not pushed harder on the bike, but then, climbing up for the second time that day a vicious hill at mile 9, the inside of the legs started to cramp.  I immediately stopped, stretched and started again.  No way was I going to cramp while the rest of me was feeling this good.  At the next station, I grabbed a banana, two gatorades and two waters.  I repeated the grab at the next station.  The cramping had passed and I was home free.  I dialed the pace up and decided to really nail the last 1.5 miles.  Aid station?  Nah, I don't need that last one, I've got this.  1 mile out I was hit by a sudden, explosive cramp on both hamstrings.  Paralized, I Frankensteined to the side and desperately stretched the cramp out.  Would I be forced to walk the last mile and miss my goal time?  Just as the cramp was entering the land of bearable, a runner I had passed earlier yelled out to me, "Come on man, I know your cramping but you can do this.  Think you can run the last mile with me?"  It was just the extra push into accountability I needed.  I finished the last mile in 8min 40secs, crossing the finish line in under 6 hrs.

TOTAL:  5 hrs 52mins 59secs

5 minutes after finishing

The Iron Couple!

The Iron Crew

Long delay...preview of what's to come

Wow ... I really underestimated how much time it took to actually blog!  Well, it's been a very eventful week; I ran 32 miles in roughly 5 1/2 hours (complete with sprained tendon), had a few great bike rides (complete with crash) and conquered a brand new running trail!  I'll slowly be uploading maps, reviews and stories in the following few days!

Chubb Trail (West Tyson County Park / Lone Elk Park)

Chubb Trail may very well be the best trail run I have ever experienced in the St. Louis area.  It may also be the worst.

Thursday was a day... that shall live... in infamy.  My wife, a friend and I embarked  after work to experience this popular mountain biking and trail running destination.  The confusion in driving to the actual trail was par for the course, as it took us roughly 40 minutes to make it from downtown St. Louis to the West Tyson County Park (traffic, road closures, and a quick reminder from local law enforce that even adults have to follow "right turn only" lanes).

After taking I-44 exit 266 (Lewis Road Exit), we turned right at the stop sign.  The sign to the right of the road for West Tyson Park is easily missed, so stay keen!  We agreed in advance that this would be a "BYOP" run, ie "Bring your own pace!" so I embarked on this journey alone.  The Chubb Trail marker is a blue tree and it unfortunately took me several miles to figure this important piece of information out.

Runner beware - the first mile of the Chubb Trail offers many opportunities to get turned around, confused and filled with doubt.  Fear not, you will survive so long as you follow one simple rule:

Keep. Running.

Also, a word of advice: the "switchback" for this trail is easily overlooked!  There is a small sign with a u-turn symbol, stating "Switchback" in blue.  This sign is intended to convey a sense of understanding that one should immediately turn a hard left and ascend up the trail running parallel (but in reverse) to the one you were just on.  This was information hard learned.

The first 3 miles of Chubb Trail (starting at West Tyson) offers a gauntlet of technical climbs and drops, complete with exposed roots and pitted sedimentary rock outcropping.  The trail varied from wide track to single track within this zone.

Leaving behind the technical section, there is a railroad crossing (stop-look-listen!) serving as a gateway to a far mellower, soft, flat section of Chubb.  The trail then comes to a fork; continuing forward leads to a "Low Water Section" following a mostly dry creek bed, while cutting to the right will lead to a nice prairie.  I was still in a state of confusion at this point and ended up taking the "Low Water Section."  DO NOT TAKE THE "LOW WATER SECTION."  Does running next to a creek bed sound scenic?  Why yes, of course it does.  Does battling vicious horseflies for at least 3 miles, then waking up the next morning covered in poison ivy sound romantic?  No, no it does not.  Nor does it feel romantic.  Again, DO NOT TAKE THE LOW WATER SECTION!

A second railroad crossing leads to an open trail that looks like it is was originally intended to be driven on.  From this point on, it is pretty easy going, minus one last climb.  The last climb offers one last hurrah to your heart rate, as it is long and fairly steep.  There are not banners of congratulations at the end, though, just an opening to the large parking area used to access the trail head from Lone Elk Park.  Turn around and enjoy the 7 miles you now get to run back ;)

All in all, an incredibly fulfilling run.  I completed the 14 miles (+ some extra for getting lost at first) in a little over two hours and made it back to the car just in time for sunset.  The memory of the trail will unfortunately be forever marred by the epic battle of the horseflies through the Low Water Section (don't take!), as well as the full body armor of poison ivy rash I am currently battling.

Spottings:
8 deer (7 doe, 1 buck)
1 raccoon
1 fox
LOTS of squirrels and rabbits

 Lessons Learned:
-Always wear bug spray
-Bring a map
-Poison Ivy still exists...perhaps short shorts and a tank wasn't the best choice.


I will be back, Chubb Trail, stronger and with less exposed skin!


GORC Trailmap of Chubb

Well, Chubb Trail has officially been added to the cutting block.  I had intended to run it (as a down and back, total mileage: 14) Monday for my long run but Mother Nature chose, egregiously, to interfere with said plans and I was sentenced to run 10 miles at my local YMCA.  After setting the incline to 1 degree and treating myself to the rarity of headphones+music, I was able to knock the run out in 81 minutes, closing the last mile out in under 7:30... not bad.

So, the Monday call went,"YMCA, Chubb Trail on deck and Lewis & Clark Trail in the hole."  I'll spare you the high intensity dot that would be the GPS of my Y run!

Castlewood 10 miler (2012_05_28)

Castlewood has climbed (pun intended) its way to the top of my running list.  I absolutely love these trails, from the flat, soft sand covered stretches, the arduous climbs and the exhilarating drops over bramble, brush and boulder.  Now that I've at least run a section of every trail, I intend to refine my running route to offer a scale of distances and difficulties (new page maybe?).