Marji Gesick Duathlon Race Report: Part 2, The Run

 I headed out at 4 pm.  I had my Leki carbon poles, Salomon running vest with a 50 ounce bladder filled with water, some food, and a rain jacket.  The first few miles were relatively flat and the body and legs felt surprisingly great.  After that long stretch of Iron Ore Trail leading to Jackson Park, where my legs would fill with lactate any time I tried to hammer, now they felt fresh.  I thought I might have to start out by just walking, but was able to run.

Dave Jolin came riding up behind me shortly after, which surprised me, as I thought for sure he would have been ahead of me, as he has those old man watts.  I was selfishly glad to see him and we chatted for a few minutes, with him giving me some words of encouragement.  I secretly wished he would have paced me as he has been such a great riding/racing partner over the past few years that we have grown to know each other.  But he motored on.

Around the 4th mile, I came upon the second token station on Panorama.  Once again I grabbed 2 and placed them in different pockets on my vest. While running the Stoned Hinge Trail, I heard someone yell my name.  I turned around to see who it was:  Roy Kranz!  Holy smokes!  I was hoping I would get a chance to run with him and here he was.  I just wish it would have been longer than a half a mile.  But it was a joy to see him; I think I may even have gotten 15 seconds of fame on his video.

I was making good time through the first 10 miles, averaging 15 minutes per mile, and it felt easy. I met my crew at mile 10 around the 2 1/2 mark.  Even though I wasn't hungry and my tummy felt off, I took in some fuel while they refilled my hydration pack with more water. This was about a 3 minute stop.

Still thinking I could buckle at this point.

The next 5 miles I was still feeling good, maintaining my goal pace.  The climb up Last Bluff was enjoyable, as I didn't have a 25 pound bike I had to pedal in granny or push up the steepest parts.  I even passed a few bikers on this section. I stopped briefly at mile 15 and grabbed my lights from my crew.  Chris made mention that when I caught Lisa to give her hell.  Wait, what?  I shouldn't be catching her; now I was concerned.  What was going on?  Chris said that she was nauseous and having difficulty eating anything.  I prayed that things would improve for her.  This stop was also about 3 minutes.

The next two miles were on pavement that took me within 100 yards of the finish line.  I was able to see the beer tent full of happy souls, while I trudged onwards.  This section should have been fast as it was flat and smooth.  But for me, the hard surface began working on the support structures around my knees and the first signs of pain began to surface.

Once I got back on the trail, I was able to pick the pace back up a little.  Up and over Daisy Bluff and then onto Deer Shit Trail.  And let me just say, that little added 1/2 mile extension of Deer Shit should be called Bull Shit!  I doubt anyone uses this nasty little section outside of the race.  I passed no fewer than 5 bikers here; unless you are a trials rider and a goat, most of this section is HAB.  As far as running only Kilian Jornet would take pleasure here.  That ... was ... awful!

I met my crew at mile 19.  While I stretched out my back, hips, and knees, they refilled my water.  My stomach was sour, but I took a fig bar anyways as I knew I needed the calories.  If I threw it back up, then so be it. This stop was a little over 4 minutes.

As I got going again, the stretching helped, and the joints felt loose and limber.  The flattish trail for the next couple miles also helped. Then came Sissy Pants, to which I remember Lisa saying, as we were looking at the file prior to the race, that at least they were taking us up the easy way.  The easy way?!?  What was in your coffee that morning?  This climb felt like my poles were pulling me up while my legs were dragging in the dirt like a paraplegic.  The Hampton's Climb wasn't as long, but still a kick in the hoo-ha.  I saw another token station towards the top.  When I got there, an empty pumpkin head, with a note in the bottom,  "Just kidding, blame Danny."  I began to move on, but then stopped, turned around, and looked in again, just in case in my stupor, I missed something.  Nope, still said, "Just kidding." 😂😂😂

From there it was downhill back to Jackson Park, where I rolled through at 10:43 pm.  My crew was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, tending to my needs.  I took a moment to sit down and finish the rest of my Ramen from earlier.  That tasted so good and it was the first thing that sat well in my stomach in 6 hours.  I hadn't even seen Lisa, huddling in her chair not 3 feet from me.  Talk about tunnel vision.  She was done.  Her body said no more.  She said she could finish it, just that it wasn't worth it, as she would be slower than in 2019 and she got her buckle. I felt a little envious of her, not having to endure any more pain.

That first loop had taken me 6 hours 47 minutes.  I asked Chris to do some math and see how fast I needed to go to get the buckle.  3.06 mph would have me finishing sub-22, if I left by 11pm.  I immediately got up, threw my vest on and got moving.  I was gonna need every minute, so I left at 10:50 pm.  That would give me 6 hours and 40 minutes to finish the remaining 18 miles, which is what I thought I had left.

Adrenaline had me going for miles 25 and 26 and I was on target.  I smiled and laughed as Jenny Acker passed me on a SS; we chatted a little and that helped my fighting spirit as well.  I felt good climbing Dirty Mary and The Luge as these trails were smooth and at a nice steady grade.  As I started descending on Flannel Shirt, the joint pains came back with fervor; I leaned heavily on my poles to try to minimize it.  It felt like someone was stabbing my knees with a knife. I took a 4 minute break when I met my crew at mile 29, stretching and trying to get the joints a little more limber, as they felt very stiff.

I went up Grandview faster than I came down.  Now even the bottoms of my feet had pains shooting through them.  The wheels were falling off the bus.  This is where I had my first thought of quitting.  I could just meet my crew at the next access point and the pain would stop.  This lingered in my brain for for about 3 minutes.  I did not train a solid year, let alone the logistics and $$ of getting here, and taking time off work, to text #quitter.  Finish what you start!  Even if I have to crawl across the finish line.

The second empty checkpoint on AM/FM I didn't even stop at as their was a cyclist ahead of me who discovered it to be a fake one.  Clawing my way up Carroll Jackson, my achilles tendons started getting tight.  I grabbed my third tokens here and stashed them away in my vest and kept motoring on, although now I was more down to just a walk as the pain intensified.

I met my crew at mile 34 (mile 103 of the whole course), and filled my CamelBak for the final push.  I was in such a world of hurt I think I had stopped eating an hour ago, but was still drinking.  Chris encouraged me that I had "just a 10K to go."  It was 2:30 am.  That gave me 3 hours, plenty of time I was trying to tell myself.

I was slowly dying on Sally, Angeline, and 38 Special.  The heart and lungs were willing, but the legs were not.  The pain of going downhill was bringing both physical and emotional tears to my eyes.  I was slowly seeing my minutes/mile increasing and the chances for a buckle once again sliding just out of my grasp.  But the mind was strong and I still wanted to finish.

Hearing Danny and Jill holler out my name and badass made me smile.  All those out on course were amazing, the community, racer's loved ones, and those on bikes.  So ... much ... support!

The double track section I do not remember being so long and up and down and with the many mud puddles. This should have been an easy section since their wasn't much technical footwork, but the legs were shot.  I felt like I was barely moving and the poles had become crutches.  I longed to see Cry Baby.  But first there was Old 56; so damn lumpy!  I said a few choice words here, as in "This wouldn't even be fucking fun to ride!" Once on Cry Baby, the conditions improved some, but my pace continued to slow.  The final section of steep roll downs had me grimacing as I side-stepped down them.  Sorta wished I could have just rolled up into a ball and sent it.

At 5:28 am, with 41 miles into my run (which is when I thought I would be crossing the finish line), I had just popped out onto Bluff Street and was heading towards Jasper Knob.  Chris and Rudy were there cheering me on.  I was nauseous, dizzy, parched, and weak, but ready to get this damn thing done!  I grabbed a bottle of water and Chris walked with me until I hit the trail up to Jasper Knob.  Giving him the empty bottle, I drug my body up for the last token.  Coming down, every footfall sent pain from the bottom of my feet up into my hips.  Finally on flat ground I fast walked it to the finish.  I didn't even try to run across the line, as I felt like I was going to pass out.  Thank God the poles steadied my weak legs.  It had taken me 33 minutes to go the last mile and a half, putting the total run mileage at 42.7.  Total mileage for the entire race was 111.7 miles with 13,000+ feet of gain.

I shook Todd's hand and as much as I wanted to "hate" him, I just couldn't.  He had given me the motivation to once again crush old limits and find new ones.  Yeah, I was disappointed I did not buckle.  But that was easily overshadowed by the fact that I had just run a distance I had never thought I could do, especially after riding my bike for 8 hours prior to that.  

A little backstory was that 11 years ago I was diagnosed with a foot neuropathy and for 4 years I could not walk barefoot because of the pain.  I never thought I would run again. It took a foot surgery and several years of wearing custom insoles before I could even run a 5k.  So yeah, I was ecstatic about finishing, just couldn't show it due to extreme pain and exhaustion.  

Only 15 finished the duathlon

I wanted to especially thank Chris and Rudy for crewing for me.  You guys were instrumental in my victory.  

It was great to ride and run with all you Marji Gesick musketeers throughout the day and night.  Dan Luebke, enjoyed going back and forth with you.  Gary, was it as hard as I told you it was gonna be?  Stephanie, thanks for the banana, the yodeling, and being there, like 50 times (or was I hallucinating) throughout the race.  And to all you racers on bike that passed me so graciously, thank you for not using me for traction. So many trail angels, I probably could have run with less food and water than I had.

To Todd and Danny, I think this course is perfect.  Perhaps leave it this way for 2023 ... no need to add more.  And if you feel you just gotta change it up, I would recommend getting it closer to 108 than 115.

When I crossed the finish line Sunday morning, I told myself the duathlon was a one and done.  But as I write this a few days later and feeling more like a human than a corpse, I cursed myself as I made a reminder in my phone for October 14, 2022.  

Let the 2023 Marji Gesick Duathlon training begin 😆😆😆!

Marji Gesick Duathlon Race Report: Part 1, The Bike

 

As I awaited the 7:30 am start amidst 500+ like-minded fools, I thought about how I got to this very moment.  I had already finished three 100's (more like 105) and one 50 (actually 62). After the 50 last year, I thought I was done. The closest I came to buckling the 100 was in 2016.  I attempted 2 more times, but my finishing times kept getting longer, partly due to the course getting harder (and longer) and me getting older.  I accepted the fact that a buckle was out of reach, but then I heard news of a 1000 mile buckle ... 🤔.  And then a week after the 50, Lisa (who had buckled the duathlon in 2021) planted a seed when she said she thought I could buckle the duathlon.  At first I hysterically laughed and immediately shrugged it off.  I thought a half-marathon was hard, so putting 3 of them together after a 65 mile bike was just insane.  But that damn buckle haunted every waking moment, until I finally said f*ck it!  I am going to give this duathlon a go.  What have I got to lose?  If worse came to worse, I could always switch over to the bike only format.

And so, here I stood, awaiting the start of the bike, only fearing the uncontrollable. The body and mind were ready to go to places so dark, it would make a black hole look bright.  I had 22 hours to finish it to get the buckle and 25 hours before I would be DQ'd. I planned on riding the 65 miles conservatively to decrease the risks of flatting or crashing, as this course eats tires and is very technical, about 95% single track.

I was a little concerned about how wet the course might be, as it had rained the day and night before.  The temperature was a pleasant 63 degrees with cloudy skies.  There was a chance of rain but not until the afternoon.  However, that chance extended on into the night.

Lisa was also doing the duathlon.  Her husband, Chris, and his parents, Rudy and Vickie, were our support crew. Her goal was to finish, buckle, and get it done under 20 hours. On our pre ride yesterday, she had asked me was I still going to finish if I couldn't buckle.  I responded with an immediate yes.

It was a LeMans start, with a 0.6 mile run.  I had my Pearl Izumi X-Alp Summit cycling shoes, which were super comfy.  I had a CamelBak Bike Vest with a 50 ounce bladder filled with Skratch and a Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbag on the bike which housed my gel flask, Honey Stinger waffles, and SaltStick Fast Chews (electrolytes).

Just before the gun went off, the Star Spangled Banner was played on an electric guitar.  This year we were not lead out by a unicorn, but by a blue haired dude on a Harley.  I managed to get close to the front to avoid getting trampled.  When the rockets were launched, the foot race began.  For once, the LeMans did not seem hard.  When I hopped on the bike, the legs were not heavy as in years past, but warmed up and ready to produce some watts.

I started off easy; my goal was to finish around the 8 hour mark.  The first few miles were relatively easy, being cross country ski trail.  I was quite surprised how dry the trail was.  All the rain had really settled the sand and it was fast. The climb up Jedi was comfortable.  Somewhere along here, Dan Weatherwax shouted out to me.  He told me what an inspiration I was to both him and his wife.  Thanks, Dan, for making one of many happy moments for me during the race.  Oftentimes, I don't know whether I inspire or scare away those from these most difficult events.

There was the usual conga line going down Top O' The World, where I passed 10 racers by HAB'ing down the far left; I probably couldn't have ridden any faster and even my ego agreed that the risk was too high to attempt to clean it on the bike.  This running thing made me pretty adept at negotiating tricky terrain. 

After the fun descent, it was on to the "ge-dunk, ge-dunk, ge-dunk" while riding the old railroad bed with ties intact for 3/4 mile. The loamy, lumpy, rooty ride on Harlow Creek and Rickles was quite pleasant and still so dry, it was hard to fathom that it had been dumping rain in the days leading up to the race. I kept my comfortable pace back to the campground and passed my crew about an hour and 50 minutes in.  Not needing any hand ups, I stopped long enough to see how far Lisa was ahead ... about 9 minutes. Good, I could continue at my pace and not put our crew in a bind being too far spaced out.

Wildcat is always fun, flowy, and fast.  Got a little too carefree and about washed out my front wheel in a berm.  Settle, I told myself.  Pine Knob was its usual ugly self, just slicker with the moist rocks. Still too many people close to me to feel comfortable riding the descents in my own little bubble, so I made the wise call and HAB'd (hike a bike) most of them.  The remainder of the trails over to Lowe's Trail (Blue Heron, Collinsville, Silver Lead) were relatively easy, which I had to be careful not to go too too hard, as I wanted to save ALL my matches for the run.  The Lowe's Trail is always an SOB, as it is uphill with steep climbs and techy features.  I got off and ran when I knew it was more efficient to do so.

And then there was The Beach ... grrrr!  I have never been a good surfer or perhaps I just don't have enough mass to keep momentum when the wheels bog down, so I did some running through this area.  Fortunately most of it was rideable, so not too much energy was wasted.  My crew was waiting for me at the 29 mile mark just before the Highway 41 underpass.  I made it here in 3 hours and 33 minutes and made up a couple minutes on Lisa.  While I stretched and ate some food, they refilled my CamelBak.

Hopping on the Iron Ore Trail, I knew to take a breather, as the trails coming up were going to be spicy.  While I was eating my waffle, I chatted briefly with Jason, who was tackling this for the first time.  He, along with another woman slowly pulled away from me.  Soon, I knew the very sharp right hand turn would come.  Normally there are people to direct you onto the trail as it is kinda hidden.  Unfortunately Josh and the woman were too far ahead to hear me yell turn right!  And they kept pedaling on down the rail trail.  I wonder how many other people made that same mistake.  This was one place where it was important to follow your GPS.

I chuckled a bit on the Greywalls Trail that, as it followed along the perimeter of the golf course, had signs, asking you to be quiet.  Smiley was a flow trail that would have been WAY better in the other direction.  Continuing the climb along Rough Rock Ridge, I had my first low point, where I felt some fatigue settling in.  I popped another electrolyte tab, allowing it to melt like a Certs in my mouth.  The simple pleasures ...

Once on Eh Line, I knew I would see my support crew soon.  I made it to South Trails in 4 hours 45 minutes, 15 minutes behind schedule.  I did not need anything, but just seeing everyone yelling for me, gave me a little shot of adrenalin.  And then there was Gurly.  The rocks had just enough moisture to make them greasy.  I decided to run a good portion of it.  I might lose a little time, but better than losing the ability to continue if I were to crash and break the body or bike.

Doctors was fun.  Being drier I felt confident in letting it go on this descent.  Even got some praise from the dudes that followed my lines down to Marquette Mountain Road.  The gravel road climb up to Scary Trail was arduous, but at least the gravel was firmly packed.  The first bit of upper Scary was slippery and I cleaned it about halfway down before my monkey brain kicked in and said, "STAAAP!"  So I did, ran a short section and then finished the remaining portion. Halfway through Scary was the first checkpoint.  I grabbed 2 tokens, putting them each in a different spot on my person.  Just a little added insurance.  Lower Scary was dry and a joy to descend.

Zueg's was the longest climb of the day at 2 miles.  And the point in the ride when I began to feel some soreness (fatigue) in the quads.  I needed to slow down, but at the same time, I needed to stay on pace. Let the mental games begin!  Once I saw Easy Rider, I knew I was close to my crew at Rippling River Campground.  BTW, Easy Rider is a chunky descent, during which I passed a dude on a bike, no helmet and sandals.  It wasn't even dark yet and the hallucinations were already starting.

As I stopped  to grab a bottle and a waffle, I hadn't lost any more time and I had gained a little on Lisa.  That was motivating, as I wasn't too far off her pace, which allowed for a little wiggle room once the run started.

I don't remember much of the next 5 miles of single track (Off Grade, Pipe Dreams, Old Camp Ridge) other than Pipe Dreams was fun and fast, just watch out for the large bolts on the pipe. And the other trails were tight, twisty, and rooty, but at least dry (in years past I remember them being as slick as snot from the rain).

Why I was expecting the ORV trails to be easy, I don't know, but I suppose this was one of my weaker moments.  A lot of ups and downs, but fortunately they were in great shape and the usual sandy hike a bike spots had been graveled and so now everything was rideable.

As I came to the Iron Ore Trail, the Banana Lady was there.  She had been at other spots previous to this, but I was wanting some real food, so stopped and ate what else, a banana.  Her name was Stephanie and she reminded me that we met last year at the finish, as she was supporting her husband on the 50.  I remembered her bawler Jeep Gladiator.  She told me that I inspired her husband to attempt the hundred this year.  Awesome.  Once again, some feel good vibes to get me through to Jackson Park.

Of course there was a head wind.  I managed to jump on a 3 person train, but only got to enjoy it for a few minutes, as it was just to fast for my barking legs.  All I thought as I made my way on this flat but slightly uphill gravel trail, was how bad I wanted to get off the bike and start running.  My other thought was thank God I was doing the Duathlon, because I didn't think I could ride the remaining miles after Jackson Park.  That's how tired my legs felt.

I rolled into Jackson Park at 3:43 pm, 8 hours and 13 minutes on the bike, 15 minutes off pace.  I had 65 miles of riding, but Lisa had a wheel sensor and got 70 miles.  Oof!  By the time I arrived , Lisa had changed into her run clothes and was slamming a can of ravioli.  Scott Morman was also there changing.  

I had a fairly quick transition, changing clothes and eating some ramen (which was the best food choice I made all day ... thanks Scott, just wish I had brought more than 2 helpings).  Transition time was 17 minutes, as I headed out for my run at 4 pm.

... to be continued.