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 😆😆😆!