Race Report: Wild Duluth 50k+

"It's over. You're alive. You're relatively unscathed." Ashley's summary of the 2012 Wild Duluth 50k.

(Photo Credit: Ashley)

There are both negatives and positives to writing a race report months after crossing the finish line. (To refresh your memory, here's the race preview I wrote 168 days ago.)

The negatives are obvious:

• You, the reader, have to exercise enormous amounts patience, which I imagine inevitably gives way to apathy at some point.
• I, the writer, have to dive into the deep end of my memory to bring up the details and emotions that felt so fresh on race day.

The positives might not be so obvious though:

• While some of the race details have been erased by time, time does have a way of making the significant ones stand out.
• Okay, so maybe there's only one positive.

At the start, with RD Andy Holak
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

The Race

Anyways, the 2012 Wild Duluth 50k was probably my least competitive, but most enjoyable race of the year. Officially, I crossed the finish line inside Bayfront Park tied for 22nd place in 6:03.32.

Unofficially, instead of running a 50k (~31 miles), I probably ran closer to 33-34 miles after missing a turn somewhere along the way. (My Garmin watch suggested my modified route to be 33.04 miles, but it's been known to be on the short side every now and then--especially on the trails. And 30+ miles presents much opportunity for error.) I would say it all started with missed aid station or a lapse in awareness, but I think my getting "off course" really started months before the race.

Because of the major flooding in the Duluth area last summer, Andy Holak -- the RD (race director) -- needed to make major modifications to the usual 50k/100k route. It normally winds through a good portion Jay Cooke State Park, but with so many trails being washed out, it needed some "tweaking" this year. As Ashley and I made the drive into Duluth the day before the race, I wasn't incredibly concerned about the re-route. After all, I've never run on the old course anyways! But, at the starting line the next morning, when Andy spent nearly 10 minutes detailing all of the modifications and turns, and when all of runners began looking around at one another, wide-eyed, I started to get worried. It seemed that we would all be getting lost today.

"Which wouldn't be too bad," I remember thinking. If you're going to get lost, what better place than on the technical, single-track of the Superior Hiking Trail (SHT) -- during the fall colors?

Cruising, early on
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

I will say the course was adequately marked, but at some point, so many turns and a route that overlaps on itself necessarily becomes confusing. After the race, I learned that even one of the lead packs ended up off the trail. A tough situation for the RD, no doubt, but some more strategic sign placement would have helped.

Anyways, my best guess is that I got lost around 16 miles. I was running with a guy named Dan, a Canadian I met during the race who drove down with his family from Thunder Bay. We simply took a right when we should have taken a left.

It's an eerie feeling when you start to wonder if you're running the right way anymore, a feeling that's a good breeding ground for camaraderie. We had been chatting a little before this point (the longer you run near someone in a race, the more inclined you are to strike up a conversation, I think), but once we both felt the eeriness conversation began to pick-up. Neither of us felt right about where we were going, but neither one of us trusted our memory either. We decided to run until we hit an aid station we knew was up ahead and go from there.

I asked Dan the typical intro questions . . . Was this your first race? When did you pick up running ultras?

"I guess, like most of us, I just started picking them up when I started getting slower in the shorter stuff."

True.

Sunrise!

We passed a few other lost souls on our way up to the aid station, and were optimistic when we arrived. The folks there confirmed that we had indeed backtracked a few miles and tried to get us going in the right direction again. I estimated we had lost ~30 minutes from the detour, but I was still feeling good. I stuffed a few bananas in my mouth, and grabbed some M&Ms with my left hand while someone refilled my bottle with half Coke, half Powerade -- nearly an undigestible combination outside of the ultra context, but the perfect elixir within.

I then headed off into the woods with Dan, for the second time . . .

A Stroll through the Mountains

This was definitely the turning point in my race. What had been somewhat of competitive endeavor to this point suddenly mellowed into a stroll through the mountains with a new friend.

Into Duluth from the SHT
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

When we made it back to the missed turn a few miles after the aid station, we decided it would be wise to take a left this time. From then on, the race was fairly uneventful. From miles 16-25, we traded the "lead" back and forth a few times -- even losing contact occasionally. But around mile 26, we decided (using non-verbals, of course) that we'd head down into Duluth together. We had even picked up another comrade, a local named Lane. (He was always quick to let us know when we were running through some of the more trashy parts of Duluth.)

Dan (front), me (middle), Lane (back) -- probably ~28 miles (or ~30 miles, depending on how you're counting)
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

As the three of crossed the finish line together, I just remember feeling great -- that unique satisfaction after a long day in the mountains. What a day. Indeed, shared joys are double joys.

Approaching the finish
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

Ruggedness of the Superior Hiking Trail

Other than the joy of running in with fellow, battle-tested comrades, the other joy that stands out from that October day is the ruggedness of the SHT. Simply put, I've never felt more beat up in race. I may have only fallen down once (that I can remember), but I nearly fell down multiple times, every mile. And, really, it's the near falls that take it out of you -- having to gather yourself again while laid out awkward horizontal positions inches from the ground. Going straight down, falling flat on your face, while more risky, actually takes less energy and (some would argue) even gives you a brief rest break.

What a day.
(Photo Credit: Ashley)

Believe it or not, I actually ran into a tree that was crowding the trail with my shoulder, which always makes for good post-race conversation:

Me: "Do you think I'm crazy for running into a tree?"
Ashley: "No, I think you're crazy for enjoying a 31+ mile run. The tree is understandable."

Post-race dinner @Fitger's

Post-race breakfast @Duluth Grill

Quick walk along the shore of Superior before heading home!

Trail Lubrication for the Soul

Even with the falls, stubbed toes, and collisions, I enjoyed every step of the way and was refreshed in my desire to get out and explore the trails and the mountains. The Wild Duluth promised "trail lubrication for the ultrarunner's soul," and it delivered.

Maybe there is one more positive: instead of being a whole year away from this year's race, now with the delayed race report the starting line is only ~6 months away . . .