Superior 100

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep-Robert Frost

Go slow, slow and steady, don't do anything stupid, remember to eat, to drink, just go slow and don't think about the big picture, just aid station to aid station...those thoughts were flying through my brain as I lay in the hotel room in Silver Bay the night before the Superior 100 trying desperately to fall asleep.
The following day I was going to embark on a journey of 103.3 miles that could take up to 38 hours (well the time limit was 38 hours, it could take longer I suppose) that meant moving all day, all night, all day and into the night again...it was a distance I had never attempted and had no idea what to expect.

No amount of planning could put it into perspective, I had gone through the maps and tried to guess how long each section would take but having only hiked certain sections, I really had no idea what I would encounter, it was all a guess, so much uncertainty, would my crew find the aid stations, would the food I packed be enough, do I have too much, what happens if I twist an ankle, wipe out, how do people run in the dark, how much will I be able to run...every time I let one question go three more popped up making the night before the start a restless sleep.

Finally at 6am my alarm went off, very late for a trail race, normally we are on the trail by this time but today we had an 8am start and since I was staying close to the starting line we didn't have to leave super early.  A quick shower (lord knows it would be a long time till my next one) bagel with peanut butter & jelly, Gatorade and next thing I know Big Tom is calling saying he and Little Sue are downstairs ready to roll.  My older brother Paul, Ali and I headed down, hydration pack filled with water and snacks, handheld full, visor, shades, ready to go.  When we got to the lobby there was a couple having breakfast they saw me and asked if I was running, yes I replied, so is our daughter they said and 'I hope she kicks your ass' they laughed.  I nervously laughed too, I hope she does too (Turns out Malory was her name and she won the women's division)

Off we went, winding down Highway 61 to Gooseberry Falls the start.  We milled with the other runners, met up with Paige who would be crewing for Aaron, Greg, checked out the falls, slammed a cup of coffee and next thing I knew it was time to line up.  I found a spot in the middle of the pack and listened to the last minute reminders and then we were off.

The first 10 miles to the aid station were uneventful, beautiful trails, some mud from rains earlier in the week and really just focusing on finding a pace I thought I could hold for a long time.  The trail is single track so you end up getting into these trains of runners which early on was fine with me, the group I was in had a pace I felt comfortable at and I could just settle in.  The first 9.7 miles few by and then we were headed down a long hill to aid station number one.

In those first 9.7 miles I had nearly drained my hydration pack & totally killed my handheld, it wasn't a hot day but I was drinking a ton of fluids for some reason.  Plus 10 miles is a long time to go without a fill up but I felt good, having made it there by 10:20, grabbed some food and headed out walking the long hill back to the main trail, another 10.3 miles to the next aid station.  This stretch was similar to the first, lots of people around, this time though I got caught in a train that didn't have the same flow as the first one, I got frustrated with how much walking they were doing on stuff that was runnable, and it took a while to figure out why, there was a guy with trekking poles everyone was trying to get by who was slowing things up, finally along a river we were able to move past him & get the rhythm back and next thing I knew we rolled into aid station number 2 where I saw part of my crew for the first time.  Paul and Ali were there, they helped me get water in my bottle and pack again, both of which were empty, and we chatted while I ate some food and they said my parents were five miles down the road in Silver Bay & I would see everyone there.

Off I went, into the woods again after saying goodbye to Paul & Ali, things had started to spread out and I found myself running alone for stretches, occasionally coming across another runner but not stuck in the crowds of the earlier portions.  The views were amazing and a short time later I made my way to aid station 3.

It was now nearly 2 in the afternoon and despite eating at aid stations and while running I was hungry!  The crew was there and I sat for the first time, smashed half a PB&J bagel, some homemade cookies, fig newtons and slammed half a bottle of naked juice protein.  It was awesome to see everyone and we laughed at how much food I was eating and they said they'd see me again at the next aid station.  I was excited because this next portion was one I had hiked and camped before and knew fairly well, I knew it was challenging but it was beautiful with Bean & Bear Lakes and I would be heading to Tettegouche one of my favorite state parks.

But things weren't so great as I started one of the climbs, I ate too much and my stomach wasn't happy.  I slowed my pace but the climbs were tough and taking my breath away as I worked to get up them, things weren't going too well but I thought it's way too early for the wheels to come off, gotta be a way to pull it together, I started to focus on my breathing, find a rhythm, slow down more to let my food digest, finally after what felt like a long time of ups and downs trying to feel better I hit a runnable section and my body was feeling better so I opened it up a bit and made it to the next aid station where the whole crew plus Mitch was.

It was nearly 5 but I was in great spirits as I ate a little and chatted with everyone.  By this time Ali realized when I got to a station she would take my pack & bottle right away to get it filled, Big Tom had the chair out, I would sit while Little Sue handed me cookies, and Paul and Mitch kept up the convo.  It was great, I didn't talk much out there so seeing people and talking to them was a blast.  We laughed, they gave me a great vibe and then I was off.  I wouldn't see them again until mile 51 when I would pick up Ali to pace me for a bit.

The next stretch was tough, very challenging and long, another 8.6 miles, not much runnable if I recall.  I just put my head down and only thought about the next stop, wanted to get there before dark, didn't want to use my headlamp until I left that aid station.  I rounded a bend and stopped at a cliff, beautiful view of Superior, the Sawtooth Mountains and then I could hear and see the aid station...it looked impossibly far away, but as I would find time and time again in this race, the trail had a way of dropping off quickly and getting you where you needed to go and after a quad busting descent I popped out on highway 6, the first bit of pavement I had seen in ages and was rumbling towards aid station just as the sun went down, making my goal of not having to use my head lamp. 

It was just before 8pm and getting cold and dark as I left.  Tough to hit an aid station and not see my crew but Paige was there so at least I saw a familiar face and she did a great job cheering me on.  I put on my jacket and head lamp and headed off into the dark, 7.7 miles till I would see Team Foke again.

I attempted to run early on this section but my headlamp didn't seem bright enough and some of the sections where frightening so I slowed to a power hike, made my way up to one ridge and saw the most beautiful sunset ever.  The last golden rays were going down in the west while to the east over the great lake it was reflecting purple and a near full moon was already in the sky dotted with stars.  I paused for a moment before moving on.

During this section I fell in with a kid named Jeff who was having a tough time, his stomach had gone south and he was throwing up and couldn't keep anything down.  I lead as we power hiked and talked our way to the next section, he was attempting this race alone, no pacers though he had a crew made up of his family.  I didn't want to leave him on this stretch as I was nervous he would have a really hard time getting to the next station.  We talked about everything from running to baseball to his job as a teacher in Central America and finally we got to Finland at 10:19 where I am pretty sure he dropped.

Ali, Alex and Nicole were at Finland in great spirits, first time I saw Alex & Nicole and it was awesome have all three of them there and know that from here on out I would have company on the trail.  I changed my socks, shoes and shirt, filled up and off we went, Ali and me into the woods for the next two aid stations.

We kept up the steady power hike I had started in the last section, navigating up and down until hitting Sonju aid station where I was offered a pancake by the aid station workers.  "Are you for real?" I asked as Ali laughed, a pancake with maple syrup in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere after moving for over 58 miles, I couldn't think of anything more perfect!  The workers were great; I had some potatoes, sat for a few minutes, avoiding the warmth of the fire as I read it can be too tempting to leave.

We loaded up again and set out for the next stretch still power hiking at a good clip, mentally feeling good, physically not bad just focused on the next stop where I would pick up Alex.  The previous stretch had been longer than we anticipated and I got a little frustrated but was able to let it go and once I knew how many miles to the next stop I could do the math to figure out how much longer till we go there which helped me pace my hydration and eating.

We hit Crosby Manitou at 315 in the morning, laughing as we hiked up the road to Alex and Nicole.  We were behind schedule but they didn't seem to mind just spending the time in the warmth of the car.  Alex hopped out ready to roll, I got loaded up again with food and the two of us set off.  When I picked up Ali she was all coffeeied up and talking a mile a minute which was great I just focused on hiking and listening, Alex though was trying to find his stride hiking in the dark and we moved silently for a while before I finally had to say 'You really should start talking'...he picked it up from there and the two of us powered through a really long section of 9.4 miles, power hiking until the sun came up and then running stretches to make it to Sugar Loaf at 740 in the morning. 

By this time I had been moving for nearly 24 hours, that last stretch was much longer than I thought and we pushed hard at the end, maybe a little too hard I thought.  I mentioned that to Alex and we agreed to use this next shorter stretch to hike hard but recover.  The sun was up, we were in good spirits chatting away just like we do when hiking at the cabin, having a ton of fun, making each other laugh and planning what I would change when we go to the next station and picked up my brother Paul.

At 935 we walked into Creamer Road aid station and I scanned the faces looking for my crew, everyone was going to be there, Mom & Dad, Paul, Ali, Nicole, the whole group but I didn't see them, I walked further and they were nowhere to be found, I turned to Alex, my heart rate picking up, I couldn't stay here and wait for them, would he be able to take me another leg, how would we tell them we had come & gone, I tried to find someone with cell service but no one had any.  Alex told me to sit but there was no chair so I sat on the ground, he said he'd handle it grabbed me a plate of pancakes and glass of water, I sat eating, asked Paige if she had seen them but she said no.  I tried to calm down and just focus on eating and what we had to do next and when I looked up there they were rounding the bend.  Had gotten a little lost but they were there.  I switched shoes (the mud was intense) Paul was ready to roll and Paige told me if we averaged 30 minute miles the rest of the way we were fine.

I had turned the gps function on my watch on during the last stretch to keep me updated to our progress, Alex & I were averaging about 16-20 minute miles and it was nice to know how close we were getting to the aid station, Paul and I had 7.1 to the next one and off we went.

It was so great to get these sections with everyone, spending time hiking at night with Ali, sharing those moments, pushing from night to day with Alex and now Paul, who lives in Portland and traveled back to help.  We talked about everything as you always do with Paul.  As he talked I drifted back to the times I used to visit him in Madison and always left feeling like I had spent a weekend with a philosopher, and how visiting him and his family in Portland felt the same way.  The two of us kept up the power hiking though I was slowing down a bit as blisters started to hammer the balls of my feet.  I told him I needed to lay down & put my feet up for a few minutes at the next stop to drain the blood from them, he said he'd hold them up for me and at 1244 we did just that making it to the Temperance aid station.

By now the crew was like clockwork, Ali did a great job loading me up with fluids and finding food I was willing to eat (pretty much nothing but boiled potatoes dipped in salt, pancakes, cliff bars and fig newtons) Big Tom was helping me with my shoes and socks, Alex, Nicole and Momma Foke with everything else from glide to sunscreen, bug spray etc.  I felt like a race car (albeit a very slow race car) hitting a pit stop as they changed me out and kept me moving.

Leaving that aid station I could tell my feet were in a bad way, huge blisters formed on the balls of my feet making it feel like I was walking on golf balls.  Paul and I had 5.5 miles to go and just over a mile into this section I stepped down and felt the blisters pop...my socks and shoes were suddenly soaked in blood.  I stood for a second the pain just excruciating, Paul tried to keep my spirits up but this was really painful, every step I took a rock or root felt like it was going straight through my foot.  I cursed, changed my stride and finally went deep inside myself to let go of it, just let go.  Stood for a moment trying to do that and then we carried on.  Gone though were the days of 20 minute miles, we were now around 22-24 and that was over relatively flat (for this course) and the wet sections where my foot would slip hurt even worse. 

We made it to mile 90.7 at 3 in the afternoon, I took off my socks and shoes, a worker looked at my feet and said there was nothing they could do, she helped me clean them off and my crew got me new socks, loaded me up but wouldn't let me sit too long and now we were off again, this time Ali joined Paul and I as we made our way to the next station.

This section brought some dark times, the mud was intense, my mind was going a little bit, I had been up and moving a long time and was starting to get spacey.  Paul and Ali talked, kept me moving, Ali making sure I picked up my feet, didn't spiral too far down a dark path.  I didn't talk much just kept moving trying to block the pain out, focused only on getting to the next stop.

My spirits came back as I got closer to the aid station, my buddy Mitch was running the 50 mile race and caught up with us.  I just heard a 'JOHN FOCKE!' bellowed from behind and there he was, just like in the Grand Canyon, with a great attitude.  We chatted for a bit and I was so excited that he was having such a good race, we joked for a few minutes then he went ahead for what I hoped was a great finish.

 Finally the three of us emerged from the woods a round of applause from the spectators there waiting for their own runners.  It made me laugh as I gave them the parade wave I had perfected during last year's Lynx Championship Parade, raised the roof a little for laughs and then sat down to get loaded up for the final section.

Paul once again decided to stay on, it was quite impressive, I had him marked down for the 77-90 section but he wanted to go the distance so the three brothers set out, for the final 7.1 miles and for the first time since I started I allowed myself think about the end.  My feet were like ground beef, every step painful, any slipping felt like the bottoms were coming right off, I tried to stay dialed in, I knew we had two climbs and two descents left and then it was over.

The first climb was a beast, felt like it went straight up and wouldn't end, Alex was behind me encouraging me to keep going, almost to the top, but we weren't, every time it looked like we were there the trail would turn then go straight up again.  Finally it plateaued, there was little spur trail I noticed that looked like it would give us a pretty good view of the lake and area so I suggested we check it out.  I think Paul and Alex were shocked that I wanted to add on to this but we went down it and there and I sat on a tree stump (like the guy in the book Giving Tree Paul said) and the three of us admired the view before moving on.

We meandered around up there for what felt like a long time, my mind was going to mush; it all looked the same were we going in circles?  No the guys said just keep moving.  I thought I was sort of running but really it was like a jig I was going because I couldn't stop myself on the down hills, Paul and Alex were strolling behind me at a leisurely pace while I felt like we were working pretty hard.

This whole section was really hard, I was slowing way down as my feet continued to deteriorate but what sticks with me the most was how awesome it was to be out in the woods with my brothers again.  It has been a while since the three of us went on an adventure and it was just great to have one in front of me, one behind listening to their conversations while feeling the love and support they were wrapping me in.  At one point as we moved into the final descent I said 'Guys want to just keep going?  I don't know if I want this to end.' They laughed and kept me moving towards the end.

Mentally the last stretch was the hardest I just wanted to be done, people were passing us, my feet hurt worse than I ever imagined and I wanted it over.  Those guys kept telling me how amazing it was, how happy I should be but all I wanted was to be done.  Then suddenly there it was, just run through that chute and its over!  I shuffled across the line, saw Ali standing there trying to take a pic, Mom, Nicole, more familiar faces, a handshake from the race director, a huge chunk of wood on a string (my medal) handed to me, a long kiss with Ali, it was over, 37 hours and 8 minutes after it started.

People were moving me down from the finish, loud music, camera flashes, Mitch, Ryan, Dad, all shaking my hand saying congrats, what do you need, what do you want, they kept asking.  All I wanted was a chair, so I was moved towards one and sat down, done.  I know from the pics I looked pretty out of it, and trust me I was but there was this amazing feeling at that moment, to be surrounded by all that love.  All these people who helped get me through it, I felt wrapped in a cocoon of love, everyone so excited, happy, just what I wanted.  I hoped that this would be something that would get our whole family together for a fun adventure, we would get to spend a lot of time together not at a holiday but working together, bonding, not really a vacation but sort of a working vacation.  As I sat there, arm wrapped around Ali to keep from tipping over, watching them all laugh and talk and share stories I knew it had happened.  We had done it, all of us banding together to get through it.  Yes I crossed the finish line but I never could have done it without them without all the support from all over the country.  Pulling into aid stations to hear them read text's and messages from family and friends who were following along, calls to my Gramps who was trying to keep up on it, it nearly overwhelmed me and I started to feel light headed. 

I had to lay down, wrapped in a blanket, collect myself.  The finish line doctor came over we talked I was fine, he said just take your time.  I needed food, real food, put on sweats, sweatshirt to ward off the cold and then we were on our way back to the hotel.  I ate a veggie sandwich, and then just passed out.

The next morning Team Foke went to breakfast, we laughed about tales from the trails and old stories, at different points the table was in tears laughing so hard at old memories it was the perfect way to end the weekend and while the buckle, sweatshirt, medal and other finisher prizes are great what I'll remember most is that breakfast surrounded by so much love and laughter.

Preparation H (hundred miles)

The best laid plans of mice & men often go astray-Robert Burns

It's race week.  The Superior 100, a foggy goal in the distance for so long, is finally upon us.  The hay is in the barn so to speak, no more time to cram in training, no more dreaming about what it will be like, no more planning now it's time to go.

I've been asked a lot, "How do you prepare for something like this??"  Best answer I can give is, I don't know...I've read books, blogs, chatted with people, picked brains, watched movies & YouTube films but in the end I feel like it comes back to what a guy I ran part of the Eugene Curnow Marathon told me this year, 'Every runner is an experiment of one.'

With that in mind, I tried my best to train.  Running tired, hitting Afton to run trails and hills, running in the heat and soup of a Minnesota summer, running in the cold and rain, also of a Minnesota summer.  Running at times I don't usually run, back to back long runs, walking to and from work to get time on my feet, biking as much as I can so as to not wear myself out running.

Will it be enough?  I don't know I hope so but there's only one thing I can do at this point, just trust the training.  Trust that you are strong enough to finish what you started.  It's not only the physical training; will my mind be strong enough?  When rough times hit, and Lord knows they will, can I overcome them, embrace it, then let go and move on?  Have I trained my mind as much as I've trained my body?  Can the two of them team up to get me through?

The devil's in the details they say, with that in mind I've mapped out as much as I can for my crew.  Directions to aid stations, rough estimates of when I'll be there, what I may need at each spot packed into bags, all labeled, that can be easily transported to the aid stations so I can change socks, drink Gatorade or crush some dark chocolate espresso beans.  My crew has been great, putting up with my constant emails, talking about this non-stop, allowing me time to train and finally agreeing to come along for the ride!

Some will run, some will drive, but they will all be a huge help to me.  It's tough to describe the emotional lift one gets upon exiting the woods and seeing familiar smiling faces handing you homemade cookies.  The lift carries on long after I've dipped back into the woods; cookie crumbs still on my lips...can't thank you guys enough for joining up. 

So the bags are packed, the details are done, only thing left to do is run...how do you prepare, are you prepared, we'll find out!

They said...

They said you weren't built to run marathons...so you ran 10 of them.

They said to stick with half-marathons...so you started running 50K's.

They said, that's enough...so you started running 50 mile races.

They said stay home...so you went to Patagonia and ran a 63k, and 8days later ran Twin Cities Marathon.

They said you need a rest...so two weeks after that you ran a 55K.

They said you shouldn't go from the rim to the river and back in one day at the Grand Canyon...so you guys went from rim to rim to rim in one day.

They said you can't run 100 miles....

They haven't been right yet...

Learning Lessons

There's a great line from one of my favorite documentaries 180 Degrees South that says 'It's not an adventure until something goes wrong.'  This summer, training for the Superior 100, running has been going very good.  Not getting all the races or mileage that I hoped for at the beginning of the season, but I've stayed healthy, put in some good, challenging runs and overall was feeling pretty confident. 
But then I headed to Afton a few weeks back and suddenly things changed.  The night before I headed out for what I hoped to be a really long day on my feet running trails I was searching for motivation.  I was tired, mentally and physically, been on and off the road a lot and wasn't too far removed from running a trail marathon. 
On my commute home from a game that night I tried to figure out what I wanted to do, run for miles or time, what route should I take, do I have to stop at a store to load up on stuff?  When I got home I hadn't answered those questions, and when I got up and started packing they were still just hanging there, I'll figure it out I thought. 
Threw my hydration pack in my car, my handheld, a pack of shot blocks, gel and some Nunn, made a fruit/protein smoothie for later that I put in my cooler and headed out, still unsure of what that days goal would be...on the drive I enjoyed a cup of coffee, listened to the new Trampled by Turtles album, felt the warm sun and thought 'This will be a great day' but that feeling never really took over, there was doubt in the back of my mind, though I wasn't sure why. 
I never stopped to pick up any food, thinking the bagel I had for breakfast would be enough, as I parked and grabbed my stuff the sun was already glaring down on me, the first few miles down to the creek & back up to the prairie felt really hot and humid.  I made a mental note to drink more fluids then realized I didn't have my salt tabs, add another mistake to the list. 
First few miles went great despite the heat, and then as I climbed to the campground I started to get hungry, ate a gel, drank more water, but the heat was taking its toll.  My shirt was soaked, shorts followed suit, visor was dripping.  Foolishly I thought I had figured out how to stay hydrated, I mean I had run the Grand Canyon earlier this year I knew what I was doing! 
And I did...until I didn't.  In the Canyon we took tons of precautions to make sure we had enough water/electrolytes, food etc.  On a little run in Afton I didn't have those things, sure I had enough water, but I didn't have the salt tabs, I was behind in hydration & there was no catching up, I felt it more on the long, flat stretch that came next, a small stone in my shoe started to make me mad, I was frustrated, mentally I was starting to lose it, I was only 13 miles in when I stopped to get the stone out & realized my day might be done.  
Trying to regroup I hiked the Meat Grinder hill, dropped into the snowshoe trails, the shaded single track usually gets me fired up and focused,  but all I could think about was the hole in my sock my big toe was sticking out of and how hungry I was. 
Made it back to my car, mile 16 the midway point, feeling depleted and spent.  I opened the cooler and chugged the smoothie I had made, it went down but didn't settle easily.  I spent a few minutes in the shade trying to regroup; I was in great shape what the heck was going on?? 
After a few minutes I shuffled back to the trailhead hoping that smoothie would replenish me and things would turn around soon.  They didn't, I power hiked to the top of a hill and hit the meadow, no shade, sun now hammering me, and the tall grass made it humid, no wind to speak of, drinking water and Nunn practically every other step I realized today was not my day.
It was humbling, I got to a patch of shade, looked at my watch, 18 miles, if I turned around I'd be at 20 when I got back to my car, not the day I planned but then again I hadn't planned well at all. 
Shuffling back through the meadow cramps began to crop up in my quads just above my knee.  Not what I needed, feet suddenly felt like ground beef in my soaking wet shoes. 
Just before a big downhill I stopped and sat on a bench, cramps moved up and down through my calves, I could see them just below the surface pulsating.  As I stood up to get moving I got stung by a bee, are you kidding me??  A string of expletives exploded from my mouth, I just wanted this to be over. 
A day that started with such promise ended with me laying on a picnic table in the shade by my car, completely humbled, maybe the Superior 100 was not such a good idea, maybe I should take up golf, can't believe I burned a day off for this terrible run...frustration and exhaustion feeding off each other as I wallowed in self-pity. 
But that's where it ended, as the line from another one of my favorite movies Big Lebowski says 'Sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes the bar eats you.'  Today the bar ate me, chewed me up and spit me out, but it wasn't the trails fault, it was my fault.  I didn't plan well, I was arrogant thinking I could just breeze through it, a day like this was coming as I got comfortable with my runs & thought I was smarter and tougher than the trail....as much as days like this suck, they are a great reminder to respect the trail and distance every time you step out the door.
My muscles were shot, body more sore than it had been in months as the cramps has just wreaked havoc, I limped around the rest of the day working out what went wrong, what could I control and fix for next time? 
The next day I was back out running, not fast, not smooth, but moving, working out the kinks and planning my next big run, mentally and physically working to bounce back.  Not every day can be a great day, bad days happen but if you plan better and run smarter a bad day can be mitigated to a not so good day, it doesn't have to become a train wreck. 

Planes Trains Automobiles & Feet

"The strenuous life tastes better" William James

This story starts like many others, with an alarm clock going off way earlier than should be allowed...this time the fog horn sounded in my hotel room in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  Heck of a way to start off the first full day of my 34th year on this earth, and it was going to be a long day.
Quick shower, finish packing, bus to the airport...all 31 bags accounted for and checked, quick breakfast of a veggie bagel sandwich, load onto the plane, nap, wake up in St. Louis.  Off one plane on to another, immediately fall asleep, wake up, still on the ground...hour flight delay waiting for a storm to move through the Twin Cities, finally plane takes off, crash again, wake up in Mpls.  One journey down, another about to begin...
I stood on the platform waiting for the train to take me from terminal two to terminal one, going over the events of the upcoming afternoon, it was noon now, drive to Target Center, drop off my equipment, then home to trade my work travel stuff for my running travel stuff, with the flight delay I was already an hour behind.
Train to my car to Target Center & home its only 1pm, quick cup of coffee (first of the day) by 130 back on the road this time headed 100miles south to Albert Lea.  I started my career in Albert Lea in August of 2002 and worked there until 2006, learned so much there and made so many great relationships that it will always hold a special place in my heart.  I was headed back for the first time in at least 3-4 years to host their Sports Hall Of Fame banquet.  An honor bestowed upon me after the long time host Orrie Jirele passed away unexpectedly last fall.  Orrie was going to be inducted into the Hall this year and I felt blessed to be a part of it, and knew I had some big shoes to fill as he was loved by the community.
Made it to the Lea in time to meet up with Bob Hamburg, one of the nicest men I've ever met, we chatted for a half hour-45 minutes then it was over to the radio station where I started to meet up with June another one of my favorite people.  When I was working there June was my second mother and has always stayed that way to me, can't express how much I appreciated her help when I was down there.
We chatted until about 5 then it was over to the Golf Course for the banquet...at this time I realized I had not eaten since the first airport, nearly 12 hours ago!
Got to catch up with so many old friends from Albert Lea prior to and during dinner it was great to hear stories of what their kids are up to and relive old games.  I heard many stories about Orrie, how he filled every day with as much as he could, how he took time to be part of so many people's lives and how he inspired and continues to inspire people.
The banquet was great, fun to see so many people come back to the community and hear their stories, games played, teammates played with and how important it all is to them.  We wrapped up at 9pm and after saying goodbye to another one of my favorites and close friends Andy Dyrdal (who I rented a room from during my time in Albert Lea) it was time to hit the road.
Back on 35, this time headed north, quick stop at Subway to smash a foot-long as there wasn't a vegetarian option at the dinner, then on to St. Paul, swapped cars with Ali, she took over the driving and just like that we on our way to Duluth.
Greg, Mitch, Ryan and their families were well ahead of us and probably already in bed by the time Ali and I started north, it was going to be an early wakeup call again...We made it to Indian Point campground at 130am, pitched the tent and crashed around 2, only to have the fog horn sound rouse me at 440 (hey sleeping in compared to yesterday!) Quickly I pounded a bagel, put on my running gear and then Ali and I headed to Munger Inn to meet the guys.   

We were running the Eugene Curnow Marathon, a 26.2 mile point to point trail race starting in Duluth and finishing around Carlton.  Ali dropped us off and then went back to the tent to crash, the four of us stood around catching up, hadn't really seen the guys since the Grand Canyon and then after a quick race brief we were on our way. 

Greg and Ryan took off, while Mitch and I fell into our routine, running at the same pace chatting the whole time.  Laughing, remembering tales from the Grand Canyon, marveling at the views as we climbed Spirit Mountain overlooking the city and the Big Lake. 
There had been pretty heavy rainfall the night before and the trails were muddy with a lot of standing water in places.  We tried to dodge it best we could but then just gave in and embraced wet shoes...
Scampering up hills, sliding back down, laughing the whole way, mud covering our legs and shoes, splashing across freezing streams went Mitch and I as the sun began to climb.
Eventually we made our way to the dreaded power lines, a series of steep descents followed by steeper ascents, made all the more difficult as they had been turned into mudslides by the rain.
First one we got to I took one step and landed on my backside, Mitch was ahead surfing down trying to keep his balance while I slid down pretty much on the seat of my shorts.  If going down was challenging then going back up felt impossible, we struggled to get footing, down on all fours, slipping and sliding on the mud until finally able to gain some ground.
Laughing the whole way we made to the St Louis River that was roaring with the recent rains.  Mitch and I stopped to watch the rapids before crossing the bridge for the final three miles.  At this point I got a hop in my step and couldn't contain the joy I had at flying over this technical trail.  Mitch waved me ahead and I took off like a colt, hopping up logs and small hills, floating over the rocks and roots, mind totally in tune with my body, pushing a little faster, a little faster, what do I have left? 

Finally hit the black top and blasted up to the finish spotting Ali, Greg, Brit, Meredith, Ryan and all the kids at the end, a great way to end a great race.
Mitch followed shortly after, they all took off back to the cities but Ali and I were in Duluth another night, we hit canal park, got a great meal, saw a beautiful sunset and finally sleep called for my eyes and I dropped off under the Super Moon.
The next day Ali and I got up and headed back to the trails, we hit Jarrows Beach (had to show Ali how miserable it was) then climbed Ely's peak for the views of Superior in all spending 3 hours out on the trails before heading back to the cities. 

Weekend wasn't done yet, had to ring in 34 with the family and help Big Tom celebrate 67 with an amazing meal and great company of Gramps, Uncle Johnny, Momma Foke, Alex, and Nicole.  As I dropped Ali off she said I know I always have a good weekend with you because I am totally exhausted, I told her you can count me among the many inspired by Orrie, fill each day to the brim!

33 And Counting

To travel, hopefully, is a better thing than to arrive-Robert Louis Stevenson

As I get ready to move into my 34th year on this earth, I found some time to look back on the past 12 months that made up 33...
I turned 33 in Indianapolis, on the road trip with the MN Lynx.  We got to Indy and were told we had to meet in the Coach's room for film and that we (the support staff) were to be there too as there was an issue with the baggage we were responsible for.  I showed up ready to throw the skycap guys under the bus for taking so long but it turned out they had a cake for me and sang happy birthday, a much better surprise than getting yelled at for the baggage being slow.
Later that month my buddy Cano came into town from Florida, we headed up to Duluth and ran the Voyageur 50 mile race, running through 48 degree temps and pouring rain for at least 8 of the 12+ hours we were out there.  Covered in mud, sliding down the power line trails, on our hands and knees trying to get back up the other side, it was a trip and one of the most fun races I have run.  During it I remember thinking, I wish this would never end, I don't want to go back to a normal life, I love being out here tasked with just moving from one place to another under my own power.  It was a beautiful thing being a part of nature and really just being, no phones or internet, people pulling you in different directions like at work just moving and focused on one thing and doing it to the best of my ability. 

Earlier that year I had become an ambassador for the Patagonia International Marathon, in September I flew to Chile and spent 10 days on my own in Santiago, Punta Arenas and Torres Del Paine.  I got to see places I never thought I would, met some great people, learned a lot about an area I didn't know much about and fell in love with the landscape there.  The whole trip was amazing, learning how to communicate without being able to speak the language, and listening.  Really having to listen to what people were saying to decipher something, rather than listening distractedly like we do here. 

8 days after the Patagonia 63K, I made it home to run the Twin Cities marathon with my bro (or at least start it with Alex and run the 1st mile before he took off)
Not sure how I got my body to point where it was able to do that, but I just dialed in and was able to summon a focus I didn't know I had and plow through 26.2 miles from Mpls to St. Paul in under four hours and then head into work game one of the WNBA Finals. 

And the Finals...Lynx swept through the playoffs capturing another WNBA Title and Alan and I got to be a part of it, riding in the parade (and getting confused looks from all the spectators 'who are they??' haha) and hosting the trophy presentation was amazing, the energy of the crowd and being on stage like that was a blast. 

A week later Sparky came to town and we blasted up to the Cabin, his first visit and now he's hooked (and how couldn't you be, it's the greatest place on earth) the following week I met up with Mitch and we ran the Surf the Murph 55K, starting in the dark and running by headlamp for an hour or so, my 3rd marathon + distance in 5 weeks...the following day I met Ali and remember her asking me about running the 63K in Patagonia she said 'Will you ever run another ultra?' to which I replied 'I did one yesterday...' haha

Wolves season started and I started to ski, pounded out the Double Loppet in January-February, 26.2mi City of Lakes Ski Loppet one weekend followed by the Mora Vasa Loppet with Matt (35K) the following weekend then up to Gunflint with Johnny, Ted and Stephen. 

Throughout this time Mitch, Greg and I were planning our trip to the Grand Canyon to run the Rim to Rim to Rim, a 46mile run from the south rim of the canyon to the north and back...what an adventure that was.  To prepare Greg and I ran the Trail Mix 50K in April, then we flew out May 1st, ran May 2nd and then Ali and I spent another 7 days touring the Southwest, seeing the red rock of Sedona, the canyon lands of Zion and southern Utah and then back to the Grand Canyon to hike down to the river and back up  in one day. 

The WNBA season started upon my return from the Southwest and I found myself tagging along with the team for their trip to the White House to be honored for their Championship, and getting to see Paul, Adrianna and Lil B out in Seattle.

Along the way, Big Tom and Little Sue both retired, Alex made it through his first season at Hamline and Paul and his family came for Thanksgiving, a very fun and eventful year...can't wait for 34...

Running vs Racing

Ever since I started running ultra-marathon's I have really struggled with the concept of racing...when I first got into this sport all I wanted to do was go fast.  See if I could beat my times, those of my friends or brothers, and during races pick out people who looked fitter than I was to beat.
But that competitive mindset doesn't really suit me, beating those people or times never really made my race feel better, or gave me a sense of accomplishment that lasted.
Moving to Ultra's allowed my mindset to shift from trying to beat the course and the other runners, to trying to survive in a sense.  How far could I push my body, my mind?  What is the breaking point?  It became less and less about them and more and more about me.
I learned about myself, what worked, what didn't...what my limits were, and how I could extend them.  As my Dad, Big Tom, always says when he comes to see me finish, 'It's not a race, it's a run.'  And for me it was.  It's a race in the sense that there is going to be a winner, but when you're pushing yourself through 50 miles of trails and hills in the pouring rain for over 12 hours, it becomes much less of a race and more a run, an experience. 
I also don't go into Ultra's with a mindset of winning, or placing or anything.  I go in with zero expectations except to finish.  When I was starting out and racing 5-10K's, Triathlon's, even marathons, I would always check the results right away to see where I placed in my division, how many people I passed and so on.  Now I just check my time at the end and say 'Hmm better than last year' or 'Hmm worse than last year' or 'Damn I'm glad that's over.'
But this past Sunday I actually gave myself a chance to race as I took part in the City-Trail Loppet, a 10-mile race combining paved stretches and trails around Minneapolis which ended at the Sculpture Garden.
Waking up that morning I was tired from a long week of work and travel, being just over two weeks removed from running the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim, and just had the general soreness that accompanies someone who sits too much at their job. 
Ali and I arrived at the starting line and I had no idea what to expect, would I even be able to make it the full 10 miles or would I have to slow way down due to the variety of things cropping up in my legs/feet.
Ali was running the 10K so she had to wait a half hour for her start, as the horn sounded to signal the start of my race, I tried to settle in, letting the first mile or so work out the kinks.
I found a decent rhythm and some people who had a good pace I decided to hang with, slowly my legs working free of their knots.
Turning off the paved road onto the trails, got my juices flowing, letting my body flow over the rocks and roots, up the small hills, and down I felt my mindset shift from run to race.  My watch beeped after the first mile, 7:27, not a bad start; let's see what I can do.
It became tough to keep that pace as we moved into the single track and things got bogged down but whenever I saw an opening I would shoot past a few people to try and gain some ground.
Three miles in as I weaved around and over downed trees, still holding a steady pace, pushing myself when there was an opportunity.
Over railroad tracks, under bridges, along a dock that spans a lake and into familiar territory, knowing the terrain I decided to push even harder, attacking the downhill's, flowing over the rocks and roots, picking off runners in front of me, the goal becoming 'If I pass them they can't pass me back.'
Pounding across 394 and dropping down to Brownie lake, a route I have done a million times, over to the Cedar Lake Trail and into the woods towards Hidden Beach, catch the guy in front of you, move past, spot the next one, reel them in, pass, breathing heavy now, get behind a runner to slow the heart rate down for a minute or two, then pass and push.  Keep pushing.
We crossed under 394 and the end was close, less than a half a mile, push through some single track up a short hill, breath in short bursts, catch a guy in the 10K, pass him, keep him behind you, push harder now that you're on the pavement.
Entering the Sculpture Garden I was pushing pretty hard, turned the corner and ran through the finish line as the PA announcer mispronounced my name.
1:19:38, passed 21 people, got passed by 1, 44th out of 258, nothing spectacular but it wasn't about time, it was about mindset.  I could have taken it easy on myself.  It had been a long week, not much sleep due to travel and stress of starting a season, but I chose to push and never let up.  Very happy and proud of the effort, it wasn't expected but I find that often times the ones we surprise the most are ourselves.