Author: joelnagel

This years’s ultra pursuits kicked off with a new (to me and Patrick) format of ultrarunning that has long intrigued me: the backyard marathon. This format of racing has been popularized by Laz Lake (of Barkley Marathons fame) who puts on the Backyard Marathon championship in his own backyard in Tennessee every year. Race directors in Holly, MI were early adopters of the format and created the Ode to Laz race and several spinoffs including the 8 hour winter Ode to Snow.

Backyard Ultras consist of running the same 4.167 mile loop every hour (equalling 100 miles after 24 hours). When you finish a lap you wait around until the top of the hour and go again. Some formats are unlimited last man standing races where one person wins and everyone else gets a DNF even if they run hundreds of miles over multiple days. Some are a set number of hours. The Snode, as it’s affectionately called, was an 8 hour way to dip my toes in the mud of this format.

While this race format intrigued me, there were a couple of things working against me. 1) It takes place in the winter. This meant 8 hours of cold. I did a 50k last January and it took 6h 20m. This was going to be colder, longer. Many people set up tents and shanties with heaters but I didn’t want to mess with that so Patrick and I just used the man van. That turned out to be fine. And the temps hovered around freezing which is relatively warm for this time of year. 2) I was way under-trained. I’m still a little broken from Marji and I was sick off and on for most of December and part of January. I knew that going all 8 laps would be a stretch but I also knew that I could just quit anytime if it got too difficult. I think that’s a big part of the psychological game this format plays.

How It Went

The race started at 9:20a so the last lap would have the same amount of daylight as the last lap in the summer Ode to Laz. But, the sun doesn’t actually shine in Michigan in the winter so I’m not sure it mattered. I rolled my ankle pretty severely in the 3rd mile of the 33 mile run but I just kept running and took vitamin I a little earlier than I’d planned. (It is very sore 2 days later.) I was tired after the first loop because of my woeful training. But getting back with 15 minutes to spare was plenty of time to feel better and get back to the corral.

At the half way point I changed my shirt/sweatshirt and it felt good to be dry. I was pretty sure I’d quit after the 5th loop but then I felt unexpectedly fine for that whole lap and two other people even fell in behind us and let me keep pace. I told them they wouldn’t be following me if they knew how much I was struggling. Amanda, who we got to know because of a later ankle turn, yelled, “you’re a good leader!” That pretty much made my day.

During the 6th loop I started hitting walls. The first mile and half is very hilly with a section aptly named “stairway to heaven.” I let Pat go ahead, not knowing how I’d end that loop. I rebounded (the human body is amazing – even this one sometimes) and came in with over 10 minutes to spare. At that point I only needed to make it through the 7th loop with 1 second to spare to make it to the 8th loop which has no time limit. I decided to take my headlamp with me just in case I wouldn’t have time to make it to my van and grab it before the 8th loop (where it’s required). But I made it with over 10 minutes again. I thought I’d fall off for the last loop but finished around the 50 minute mark. Pat ran a blistering last lap good enough for 3rd place overall!

The recovery time between each lap makes this format of racing both doable and torture. Since you can quit, you think about quitting more than you would on a single loop course. Getting to start a race with cheers 8 times is 8 times better than only starting a race once. Getting soup and Vernors in between loops is great. If I was better trained I think I would have absolutely loved it. (Pat was skeptical beforehand but “dangerously” enjoyed the format.) The race directors did a great job and even though it was muddy, I can clearly see myself back on the starting line (over and over) in a race like this again.

Next up! Get stronger and faster at the 50k distance. There will be adventures between now and July 30th but the only formal race I’m doing is the Grand Island 50k in Munising at the end of July.

Marji Gesick was a Chippewa Indian chief who lived near Negaunee, Michigan. In 1845 he led Philo Everett to the site where Iron Ore had been discovered in the range south of town. Three things are important about Marji Gesick in relation to this post: 1) He was promised a stake in the mining company but never got what was promised to him. 2) His name translates to Bad Day. 3) The toughest single day bike race in America was named after him.

In ultra running, horse races turn into foot races (Western States) and “people wear shoes to bike races.” “The Marji” (as it is dis-affectionately known) added running to a mountain bike race a few years after its inception. 

Almost a year ago, Patrick and I signed up for a bad day, hoping the Marji would make good on its promise of adventure on the trails and mountains of iron ore rich Marquette, Negaunee, and Ishpeming. 

In the year between signing up and toeing the line a lot happened, but blogging about those things didn’t. Really all of the running that happened over the last year was training for the Marji 50 that we knew would be over 60 miles and therefore the longest run we’d ever done. Here’s a recap of the adventures that led to Marji:

• I ran the Yankee Springs Winter Challenge 50k. Pat was supposed to run it but got Covid the week before. I ran it in around 6h20m and felt good through it all. No stomach issues. My goal was to eat food at the aid stations and I did. It was about 15 degrees out and some fat bikers came through and groomed most of the snow the night before, making it runnable.
• In May, Patrick and I ran the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore trail unsupported (filtering water and carrying all calories on board). This was about a 9.5 hour effort. It was the first warm day of the year and we both struggled with the heat a little. But that was mostly due to some misinformation about water being available.
• I had a two week vacation in the UP in July and got a lot of trail miles and elevation training in. It was glorious to wake up and have the 4 peaks be my Burchfield. I got to meet Marquette runner Bill Nolan which was a plus.
• Patrick and I both put in well over 1200 miles in training in 2022. Pat ran a double Poto in August like a total stud. 
• I got Covid in August and it knocked me down pretty good. It was about 7 weeks before the race and I feel like I never quite got my highest gear back. But I fought hard to be as ready as I could be and I toed the line feeling like I could finish.

There were other things that we did to be ready as well. Patrick went full Patagonia on preparation for Marji. One of the draws to the race in the first place was his enjoyment of logistics and figuring this race out. Marji is self-supported. This means that if you want aid you need to have people in the right places at the right times to give you water, food, headlamps, trekking poles, etc… There’s no map to help with this. Pat did amazing work. He studied the course and did research on past runners. We came up with a great plan and a great crew. Jon, Franco and Tom helped get us through by meeting us at 8 spots throughout the 17 hour event. 

Last year for the Marquette 50 miler we stayed in Sue Blackrock’s basement. This year we stayed at the closest possible AirBnB to Blackrocks Brewing. When we got into town on Friday we zipped around to familiarize our crew with the aid stations we’d planned and then headed to the house and across the street to packet pickup which was conveniently located at the brewery. Our crew received matching shirts (like Jack White roadies) and we had mostaccioli according to tradition before we hit the hay.

Morning stuff went well and we headed out at 6:15am to walk 6 blocks down to the start at the downtown Marquette ore dock. As we walked out the door we ran into another runner who was staying below us. It was Michelle Pede. She was one of the runners Pat and I had followed on Strava. Her training had been super impressive and we really thought she was poised to win the race. She was the only runner we knew who had run more miles than us and it was all in elevation because of where she lives. How crazy to run into her of all people and be staying in the same house.

We talked as we walked down and waited for the start. She mentioned some things that we hadn’t even thought of like gaiters to keep sand and rocks out, having a coach, and practicing with trekking poles. Welp!

The gun went off right at 7am (which must bring the average start time down – inside joke). We were off. We ran the first couple of miles on the paved NCT south along the lakeshore. We talked to Paul James who we had met on our Manistee River Trail (mis)adventure. We got to the steep grade of Marquette Mountain – or is it Mount Marquette – we hiked up and then took care not to blow out our quads in mile 3 on the way down.

We wondered if our crew would be where they were supposed to be and they were! We had a successful hand off and tried to run at “Ice Cream pace” for the first 20 miles. That’s the pace you’d run if you were running to the ice cream shop. Why are you running to the ice cream shop? I’m not sure. 

The first 20 felt pretty good for both of us. Like MQT last year, it was hotter and more humid than average. We were both being good hydro homies and drinking all the fluids we onboarded at each aid station and we were eating too.

I love running with Pat! We committed to do the whole race together since the only aid was what we had set up for both of us and if we got separated it would be too tough for our crew. Before the race I had this thought: The chances of both of us having a great day are slim. Turns out I was right and around mile 30 I was the one who stopped having a great day. Unfortunately for Pat, that meant sticking with me. I’m grateful!

Here’s what happened: I was drinking all of my fluids plus bonus fluids even though I had minor stomach issues. Yet, I wasn’t sweating and I hadn’t peed since about 10am. I wasn’t sloshy either and I just couldn’t figure it out. Looking back I probably should have drank even more. At the same time, around mile 35 I started to develop blisters. I’ve never had that problem before and so I didn’t really know what to do besides keep shuffling. I tried to work on them at the mile 42.5 aid at Jackson Mine Park (where Marji Gesick gave away the ore deposit) but it was too far gone. Looking back I wore socks that I had worn in many 20+ mile training runs but they weren’t as thick as what I usually wear for ultras. With the lack of hydration came more stomach issues and a lot of leg cramping. Luckily, “cramps aren’t real” is an effective thing I tell myself and I just keep going till the pain stops. It was a lot of pain. 

On top of all of that, one of the unique features of Marji is that it is still a bike race. Mostly, a bike race really. So all day we had to move out of the way of bikers and often we’d yo-yo with a group as we’d hike up the hills faster than they could and then they’d coast down faster than us. Almost all of the bikers were great and I’d say it added to the craziness of the adventure. 

After mile 42.5 we grabbed headlamps and trekking poles for the last 20 which would be hilly and dark. It was a slog, especially for me. PATRICK WAS A TOTAL ROCKSTAR and put on an ultra running clinic. It was a thing of beauty. He drank fluids, he peed, he ate, he ran, he stuck with me.

At mile 52 we met our crew for the last time. Stopping made my stomach go crazy. I think my body thought I was done. I gripped the top edge of my van door and told Pat I thought I was done. When you drop out of this race you have to text #QUITTER to Todd Pocquette, the race director. I was so close. I sat on the edge of my van and after a couple of minutes the stomach pain subsided enough to stand and we headed up into the darkness.

The last 10 miles took 4 hours. It was so tough. In the last 5 miles I even recovered enough to scamper a bit. We kept bemoaning that it felt like it was all uphill. The evil mastermind behind the course is Danny Hill (only more appropriate last name would be Hell). When we looked back at the elevation chart we realized that it was indeed all uphill. The downhills offered no respite or reward and then it was back uphill. The whole race was somehow uphill (topographically) and downhill (physically) at the same time!

We collected the last of 3 tokens on the last hill in the town of Ishpeming and jogged triumphantly toward the finish at 12:45am. It felt so good to be done. My body held up long enough to present my tokens and be counted as a finisher. Pat went back to our place with Jon. I sat on the edge of my van and dry heaved for about 5 minutes. It was the loudest and grossest sound I’ve ever made and it echoed across the night near the finish. All in all, Marji Gesick was a bad day and it kept its promise of being a race where you “find your limits.” I definitely found my limit.

The Details:

• 63.45 miles
• Longest run
• 1st 100k
• 7,408 ft of elevation
• Pat and I tied for 8th! (although appropriately I was listed as 9th)
• 80 people signed up, 38 showed up, 22 finished, 16 #quittered
• We both got 50 mile Pr’s by about 30 minutes
• A woman took 1st place overall and 3 of the top 4 places (Michelle Pede took 4th)
• Pat fell and has an extremely bruised rib
• I don’t think I can pursue a 100 miler – I truly found my limit. But I’m excited about staying trained for “ultra” pursuits in the 50k range

One of my goals this year ended up taking most of the year to complete. Pat learned that the North Country Trail Association offered a patch and a certificate for anyone who covered 100 miles of the trail in a calendar year. We had plans to cover some of the trail in adventure/training/race runs and so filling in the other miles seemed like a cake walk. Of course in the end we had to put in some extra work to get the hundo.

The North Country “Trail”

You’ve heard of the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail. Well, the North Country Trail is the Midwest’s attempt to be like those other trails. Kind of like how Meijer is the Midwest’s attempt to be a good grocery store. Neither one totally hits the mark.

The North Country Trail (NCT) is still amazing in many ways. It’s actually the longest trail system in the US, stretching over 4,800 miles from North Dakota to Vermont. 550 of those miles are in da UP. And 600 more are in the lower peninsula. This makes Michigan the bell of the ball as it should be with some amazing sections of trail that Patrick and I have enjoyed in previous years like parts of the Jordan River Pathway loop near Bellaire and the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore Trail along Lake Superior.

But there are also a couple of reasons why this ain’t no Appalachian trail. First of all, it’s unfinished. Local trail associations do their best to acquire and create new sections of trail and to maintain their areas. Much of the trail is not trail at all but runs along dirt (or even paved) roads. Wilderness sections end up not having complete trails as well because they are hard to maintain. Patrick and I have spent enough time searching for the trademark blue blaze of the NCT on a tree to learn that when you can’t find the trail, it’s because there almost isn’t one. Look in the area you’d least like to run through (downed trees, rock piles, swamps, etc…) and sure enough you’ll find the next blue blaze and be able to stay on the “trail”. The second reason that the NCT is no Appalachian trail is because it goes through Ohio.

2021 On The Run

Looking back on our NCT 100 is a great way to look back on a 2021 that was often spent on the run. Patrick hit 2,000 miles for the year and I came really close to hitting 2,000 for the second year in a row. Our miles on the NCT were only 5% of our total miles but they were some of the most memorable.

One of our earliest training runs was a new-to-us section called the Warner Creek Pathway which was an excuse to go take a Friday off and go to Short’s. It was so fun flying down some windy sections of the icy trail. This is also where Pat learned what I thought everyone already knew: The origins of the phrase, “Wutt in blue blazes!” Of course it comes from the first trail to be marked with blue blazes, the Western Undulating Tennessee Trail (W.U.T.T.).

One of the most epic runs of the year was our 34 mile steeplechase (and black fly chased) run through the Porcupine Mountain Wilderness State Park. Part of our loop and some of the waterfall treks we made before and after the big run helped us add some random miles. In the summer we started to realize that getting 100 miles on a trail that always required at least an hour drive to get to a trailhead wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed. (Coincidently, my whole ultrarunning deal could be summed up with the phrase “wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed.”) Pat ran some NCT miles in Ohio (the sacrifices we make!) and I experienced a beautiful and terrible ultramarathon of NCT miles along the Two Hearted River. We finished our NCT journey together in early November with 18 miles west of Hastings, MI in Barry county, talking about how grateful we were for a great year of running. We both agreed that the highlight of the year was the Marquette 50 mile ultra that nabbed us 16 miles of breathtaking (in all the ways) NCT in mid-August.

What I’d Do For A Sticker Or A Patch

We filled out an online form and got our patches and certificates in the mail. Here’s the thing: I have no use for a patch. I don’t know what to put it on so I just have it in my office. This begs the question: Why? George Mallory infamously responded, “Because it’s there.” But he died on the North Face of Everest.

Here’s a better answer: The patch (or the sticker or the T-shirt) give you something tangible to hold onto for an intangible goal. Last Sunday in my sermon, I talked about how having an actual gift card of hope might help us to be more hopeful (hope is super-underrated.) I think the goal of getting a silly physical object in exchange for epic physical exertion is similar. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the real rewards for running long distances. Things like improved health, getting to see beautiful sections of my favorite state, getting to be with great friends, getting to connect with God along the way, and all the learning and awe that comes from doing hard things – that’s all hard to quantify. It’s easier to just go after a useless patch.

Once you’ve put all of the above into an adventure or a race or a challenge, the patch becomes so much more. For me, it will be a reminder that even though life in 2021 was pretty tough in general, I did some difficult things with a great friend on purpose that make the overall impression of the year pretty great. The NCT 100 was no Everest, but I’m looking forward to not having to care about logging NCT miles anymore and to taking on whatever adventures lie ahead in 2022.

The big one on the horizon is Marji Gesick. “The Barkley of the UP.” Pat and I signed up for the 50 (62) miler that will be in September. One of the things we fleshed out on our last NCT run was an ethos that we even gave a hashtag: #winmarji. Win Marji doesn’t mean we’ll actually win the race. Certainly, just finishing will be a great accomplishment. But it means that over the next 9 months we won’t just do some long runs off of a random training plan. We’ll try to do all the things it would take to actually win the Marji. We’ll try to compete, not just complete. The only thing we can’t control is our actual athletic ceiling and the abilities of our competitors. But the things we can control (training, strength training, mobility, nutrition, etc…) are going to get our best efforts. The hopeful result is that we’ll feel like we won Marji no matter the actual result.

The training for that race has already begun and there are plans being hatched to run great miles in some great places that will surely have us once again chasing the blue blazes of the NCT in the year to come and beyond.

Peaks and Valleys

I woke up at 3:32 am on purpose. I ate oatmeal with a touch of maple syrup from my own trees according to tradition. I pooped (twice). I headed out with Patrick Flahie to the Forestville Trailhead of the Noquemanon Trail Network north of Marquette, Michigan. There was an underwhelming pre-race meeting followed by an even less whelming national anthem. Headlamps on, running packs filled, Patrick said a spontaneous prayer, and we were off. At 5:32 am in the first wave after the elite runners, Patrick and I started running the Marquette Trail 50 Mile Ultramarathon and kept moving forward for almost 14 hours. In a race that ended up being 52 miles long and over 6,000 feet of elevation, crossing the “4 peaks of Marquette” twice, in 86 degree heat and humidity, we didn’t need an elevation chart to tell us that there were going to be as many valleys as there were peaks. As meaningful as the highs were during the race, the real question would be about the lows: would any of the valleys be too deep to pull out of and find our way back to the finish?

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The Start

In many ways, the race didn’t start at 5:32 am. It started almost a year earlier with a race to refresh our web browsers on Black Friday 2020 so we could be among the lucky idiots who signed up for this race that sold out in 20 minutes. We originally signed up for the 50k, wisely hoping we’d be able to jump up to the 50 miler if our training went well and we stayed injury free. So much training! Patrick and I both ran well over 1,000 miles this year in order to even think about attempting 50 in one day. We did training runs together on Saturdays, dialed in hydration and nutrition as much as we could, did shorter races (a marathon and a 50k!) a couple of months before MQT, and wore through multiple pairs of shoes.

In the two months before our race, I had run a good 50k at the Two Hearted in June but my stomach didn’t have a good race. I ran the 10 mile 4 peaks route north of Marquette twice on vacation. Once, on a really hot and humid 4th of July and again with Ryan Ray on a cool day. (The only kind of day when you’re hangin’ with Ryan Ray is a cool day!) Those were extremely important runs when I look back on my training. I can’t imagine being surprised by those peaks on race day!

In the time leading up to the race, my confidence was waning and waxing from long run to long run depending on how I felt and I was frequently getting discouraged. But Pat and I had a miraculous double loop of the Poto where we both felt pretty good over 36 miles of hills. We upgraded to the 50 miler that day. Yet despite initial enthusiasm, I had to overcome a real confidence crisis about 4 weeks out. Pat, the Tuesday Running Club crew, and some prayer for perspective helped pull me out of the first valley I had to face before the race even began. My sense of dread was replaced by excitement and my nerves went away as I focused on how fun it would be to do my favorite thing in the whole world in my favorite place in the whole world with one of my favorite friends in the whole world for a whole day! (I know that’s a run on sentence but I feel like run on sentences are appropriate for this post!) 

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Getting To God’s Country (The Last Good Place On Earth)

Pat drove us to Marquette with a replica of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer near his seat to beat me with if necessary. Instead of Beatles songs (Porkies Trip) we listened to some trivia and our own nervous predictions about the race. Pat took a shot in the dark and predicted a 13h 42m finish time. In one of the most disciplined moments of my life, we stopped at Tacopotatomus in Munising and I only ate half a fish taco because I feared a repeat of stomach issues from my last race. We got to our AirBnB which was a basement that smelled like a grandma’s basement because it was a grandma’s basement. The friendly owner’s name was Sue. We told her we were going to check out some breweries and she told us her son owned a brewery. Which brewery? BLACKROCKS! We were staying in the house that Mr. BLACKROCKS was raised in. This surely was a good omen (plus there was free beer in the fridge). We referred to the owner as Sue Blackrocks the rest of the trip. We stayed in Sue Blackrocks’s house! Notably, the basement also had an old organ that supplied our new trail names (a la Scott Jurek: “Webwalker”), Pat would be “The Programmer” and I would be “Phantom Fingers” come Saturday morning. The basement brought us both a surprisingly good night of sleep.

All Day Fun!

Our mantra for the race was All Day Fun with an emphasis on ALL DAY and FUN. We knew it would be a really long day and we knew we had to focus on keeping it fun even though the cut-offs meant we couldn’t mill around taking pictures every time we climbed a peak. To help with the fun, to take our minds off of the pain, and to make Patrick mad at me instead of the fact that we had made a bad choice in signing up for this race, I compiled a list of 21 hypothetical questions for conversation. Since it was a hot day we’ll call them “Hot Takes.” To give you an idea of the kinds of problems we solved for the world while we ran, the first question was simply, “Bike World?” How much better would the world be if we didn’t have engines and everyone had to just ride bikes? Predictably, Patrick did not agree even with the premise of the question. So, I followed up with question 1b, “Cloak World?” After getting through a couple of questions, seeing a frog in the dark, swatting at ground hornets – “bees!!” – and seeing a beautiful sunrise that would even make Bugsy Sailor weak in the knees, we made it back to the start after the first 11 mile south loop. We wondered if we had set out too quickly but the conga lines in the crowded trail kept us in check.

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Getting Loopy

We ditched our headlamps, filled our running packs with water, gu and newtons and headed out for the first of 2 big 20 mile loops over the 4 peaks. The first loop went counter-clockwise beginning with climbing hundreds of stairs up and down Sugarloaf Mountain. Then we ran a beautiful stretch next to Lake Superior near Little Presque Isle. We ran almost all of this at a pretty good clip. I thought that running this section would “make” our race (although a small part of me feared it would break our race). “Go hard and fade” was my motto when I first started long distance running but I’ve become a better runner (according to Pat) and learned to pace myself. However, with the cutoff lurking, the heat rising and the hills looming I felt like I needed to revive my old habit a little bit so we could bank some time. It probably added to the factors that would later cause both of us to hit a wall but it also worked to help store up the precious minutes we needed to finish the first loop with enough time to feel pretty confident that we’d make it out for the second loop and be able to finish. After Sugarloaf I commented that my quads were already burning which elicited an appropriate “uh oh” from Pat. He hit a wall from miles 18-20 and really thought about not finishing but perked up with some hydration. My stomach rebelled from miles 20-30 but recovered pretty well although not well enough to be able to try bacon at any of the aid stations (alas!). Bareback Mountain, Top of the World, and an insanely hard hands and feet struggle-scramble up and down Hogback Mountain brought the first loop to completion. 

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One Mo’ ‘Gain

Have you ever gotten a few things at Taco Bell and thought about going back through the drive through for a repeat? That’s called a one mo’ ‘gain. And that was the task ahead of us minus the taco part. The first struggle was just leaving the aid station. 50k runners were in fact eating tacos and listening to live music. We were frantically stuffing our vests with hydration and nutrition and digging deep for a 20 mile clockwise one mo’ ‘gain. One of the most difficult things about this race is that if you “just” complete the 50k (31 miles) but you signed up for the 50 miler you get a DNF (did not finish). The cut-off time for completing the 50k is 12 hours. That’s by no means an easy 50k because of the hills, but the generous time cap means you could almost walk the whole thing. 

The 50 miler, on the other hand, has an aggressive 15 hour cut-off and there are cut-offs at checkpoints along the way to keep runners from being out there after dark. Thankfully, we were well ahead of the cut off and the DNF policy actually helped us to not quit even though we were exhausted and it was only getting hotter and we couldn’t have any tacos.

So we set out and then something explosive happened. I ripped a huge, cheek-flapping fart about a thousand feet past the aid station at a point when Pat was next to me so he wouldn’t get blasted. But, with Pat next to me I failed to look behind me and as I ripped the fart I heard a “whoa!” Poor Brian from Minneapolis had snuck up on us like an ultra ninja and paid the price for his silent strides. He would later question the wisdom of trusting a fart to just be a fart that late in a race. He finished 4 spots behind Pat and will probably never forget the time he got butt blasted after running 31 miles.

Cool Aid

One of the spiritual/life takeaways that I got from this run came around miles 24 and 37 in the form of an aid station. There were 6 aid stations along the course and they all had water and Heed (so gross) and lots of food I couldn’t eat and people who were there to help the runners. But there was something different about this one aid station. The people were so cheerful, so eager to help. They didn’t just stand there with water and wait, they started unzipping my pack and filling me up. They put an ice cold towel around my neck (was that an option anywhere else?). They were so positive and it was contagious. I really felt cared about and encouraged by these strangers. I gave one of the helpers a hug at the finish! I think a lot of times we want to help others but we don’t know what to do. Maybe the biggest thing is to just do something and to do it with a huge smile. The way we help might matter just as much as giving help in the first place. (1 Peter 5:1-5)

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Breaking Up The Band (Maxwell’s Silver Hammer)

Around mile 38 I had a little bit of pep in my step. My slow jog was a little faster than Pat’s and I’d run up, walk a bit, and then he’d catch me. I just thought he was in a little bit of a valley but it turns out he was digging deep just to keep going. He felt like if he kept up with me he would DNF at the next aid station so he ordered me to go ahead without him and assured me he’d finish. I argued with him a little bit and then I headed off, literally with a tear in my eye because I imagined us doing this thing together all the way. I hoped for the rest of the race that he’d catch up with me after getting a ninth or tenth wind and we could finish together and I prayed for him when I was lucid.

Now separated, we trudged back over and down each of the peaks and then conquered the last 4 miles (which weren’t even over any of the official peaks but were so tough). I have never been happier to be done with something than I was at that finish line (even though the band and the tacos were gone). I sat down in a folding metal chair and waited for Pat. I only had to wait 8 minutes for him to triumphantly finish the one mo’ ‘gain! We tried to drink a beer (a Blackrocks 51K with the K turned into an M by duct tape and a sharpie) but our stomachs hurt too much so we took a sip and poured it out for our homies who DNF’d. We finished the Marquette Trail 50 Mile Ultramarathon!!!

The Results

Here’s the crazy thing. We actually did more than just finish the race. We did remarkably well.

• Joel: 13h 39m 58s
• Pat: 13h 47m 29s (remember Pat’s prediction of 13:42 – Almost a perfect split of our times!)
• At one point 168 people were signed up for this race. At the gun there were over 130 people signed up. Only 96 people started. Only 34 people finished. 34 out of 96! We were among the 35% who finished. Amazing! [My Race Result]
• The average DNF rate of the race has been 40% over the past few years. This year’s 65% was a record. Was it the heat and humidity?
• Comparing our Ultrasignup profiles to those who finished ahead of us makes our finish seem even more improbable. The other finishers have first places, top 5’s and many more ultras on their resumes. We were the only finishers posting our first ultras on Ultrasignup.
• Our 50k split would have placed us 29th out of 235 starters in that race. Wow!
• The overall winner by over an hour was an amazing woman named Michelle Magagna. She ran past us on her way out for the second loop (around mile 35 for her) and looked like she hadn’t broken a sweat as she smiled, cheered us on, and floated by for a women’s course record on a record hot day.

There are, of course, other results that are harder to quantify. The medals were amazing. They are replicas of old miner’s tags that would be placed on a peg so it could easily be known who was down in the mine. It’s beautiful but it’s also a reminder of how much time I had to spend out on the trails training for this race. The race itself was terribly difficult and also so beautiful and fun but the training was also difficult and at times beautiful and fun. My initial feeling after the race was no more! Meaning no more races bigger than 50 miles (the temptation is to get the 100k and then the 100 miler). It’s hard to imagine doing those races and even harder to imagine all the training – although it’s really not that many more actual miles, it’s just always being in training mode. But, maybe like a mother recovering from the pangs of childbirth and holding her baby, the memory of pain is gradually being washed over by the more lingering memories of fun, beauty and accomplishment. Who knows what the future holds? I’m going to back off on my training for the fall (30-35 miles a week) and add in a little strength work. I’d still like to do a couple of long(ish) adventure runs to complete 100 miles in a year on the North Country Trail and get a patch. The things I’d do for a sticker or a patch! 

Pat and I are also watching the people who ran this race and are also signed up for what we believe to be an even more grueling 50 miler in the UP called Marji Gesick that takes place next month. Maybe that’s worth a shot next year? 

So for the fall, my running tag won’t get quite as much use as it has over the last two years and I welcome the break. Overall, I have the same thought about ultra races after this one as I had after the Two Hearted 50k in June: Adventure runs without the pressure of cut-off times like what Pat and I did in the Porkies are much more fun but I’m not going to rule out more races in the future because apparently we are actually pretty good at ultrarunning and I didn’t get to have any bacon at the aid stations!

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A “Chill” Day In The UP

The next day we wisely planned to stay in Marquette instead of driving home. It was a chill day and a not so chill day. It was literally more chill because the heat and humidity broke and it would have been so perfect a day earlier for the race. It was not so chill because I can’t be trusted to not do cool stuff in the UP even if my legs don’t work. We hobbled around Marquette for good coffee and good beer and we went to Little Presque Isle which required a refreshing walk to an island in Lake Superior and some not so refreshing rock and hill climbing on dead legs. In my opinion, it was a fitting way to end a weekend full of unwise but rewarding accomplishments!

21 Questions – You Know You Want ‘Em!

We only got through 5-6 on the trail but finished them all on the ride home. They made for some really interesting discussions but only because our brains were fried from the run.

• Bike world?!
  • 1b – Cloak World!
  • 1c – Sword World!
  • 1d – Olympics instead of war 

• Are we alone in the universe – why no contact – what happens if there is contact?

• What will cause the end of the world? When?

• Most important event in history? Most important discovery? Most overrated event/discovery?

• How long will we be able to extend human life? In our lifetimes?

• What is the ideal government system? Examples? What’s the worst system?

• If there is no flight what’s the most defensible place on earth?

• Is an ocean world possible? Where the most sentient beings live in the sea – could technology be developed? (Mon Calamari)

• Is interstellar space travel possible? 99.99999 of light speed – acceleration takes decades as does deceleration

• What’s more important – language or mathematics?

• Will we ever be a one language world again? What language?

• What’s the last place on earth that will go from 3rd world to first? What’s keeping this from happening?

• If you could have been born in another country?

• How amazing is existence?

• What conspiracy theories are you close to buying?

• Do you think you’ve already had your best day/year ever? Your best meal ever?

• If moving to Mars and living in amazing buildings was safe and free would you do it?

• Would you live on a boat? What waters/port would you call home? RV?

• If you could switch careers right now and make what you currently make with no new training but you are just as good at the new job what would you do?

• What structure will last the longest if all people died? Michigan and world

• If you could play an instrument what would you play – would you want to be in a band?

I see that we missed questions 1c and 1d that were follow ups to Bike World and Cloak World. I guess that means we’ll have to do another ultra to figure out if the world would be a better place if we all used swords instead of guns and what would happen if we settled international disputes every four years at the olympics!

“Keep Your Expectations Low And You’ll Never Be Disappointed” 

I live most of my life by this mantra; especially when dealing with people. This has served me well because when people do something disappointing I am not shocked or dismayed and can deal with it better. And when people do well, I feel joy like a happy accident has just occurred. The one person I often fail to apply this motto to is myself. The result is that I am often unhappy even when I do well and overly upset when I underperform in any aspect of my life. Not fun.

For reasons that I’m still trying to parse out, I had high expectations for my first ever ultra running race, the Two Hearted 50k, that led to initially feeling disappointed. Here are a few: 

• I was well trained and well tapered. I’ve been training for a 50 mile race and did a 34 mile adventure slog in the Porcupine Mountains 6 weeks pre-race so a 50k should be a walk in the park or at least a nice run through a state park.
• My running partner (who I generally consider myself to be just a notch or two below) killed a marathon in Alaska so hard that he had to have a mortician approve the race medal he brought home on the flight. Somehow I thought his performance would magically translate into success for a race that was just 5 miles longer. Makes sense if you don’t think about it, right?
• I thought this was an easy ultra. Maybe I’ve been watching too many Western States films on YouTube. The race description of this event made it sound flat and fast. In my head I had compared it to a long day at Burchfield. It wasn’t until after the race that the race director emailed everyone a thank you and called it a “notoriously difficult” course.

So, in the moments immediately after the race I felt very disappointed but with some distance between myself and the distance I’m seeing that my expectations were way off and I really did well, especially if “doing well” is measured by overcoming difficulty (which is how we’re going to measure it for this ultra and for the ones to come.)

Pre-race

I woke up at 4:30am in my in-laws’ camper, drank a cup of coffee, pooped, and felt great. At 5:30am we loaded onto 2 busses at the Upper Tahquamenon Falls parking lot. There were 25 people running a trail marathon and 50 people doing the 50k. (My friends Doug and Crista ran the half marathon loop and Doug got 4th place overall out of 90!)

The 45 minute bus ride to a dirt road near Lake Superior was quiet. About 15 minutes into the ride I started asking people where they were from and shared some light conversation with the people around me. Ultra people are cool people.

We arrived at a seemingly random spot on an isolated dirt road and there were 4 porta-johns and 75 people in line. I felt like I needed to poop again but couldn’t make it happen. In training runs when this happens, the feeling goes away and everything is fine. That would not turn out to be the case here.

The Race

With everyone porta-pottied to the best of their abilities the race started about 8 minutes early, heading up the dirt road. Nobody took off fast and we all cruised at a conversational pace on the sandy but runnable road. I talked with a guy about the Marquette 50 miler and got some insights about the climbs and the potential use of poles. 

The first aid station was only a couple of miles in and I just topped off my water bottle. Bringing a bottle or wearing my hydration vest was a big pre-race question. Looking at the other racers I’d say 75% wore vests. Some used the hydration pack and straw while others just used the vests to hold water bottles. In my water bottle hand strap I had 3 of my choicest Gu packs and some Tums and ibuprofen. 

The weather in Holt had been very hot and hydration was a struggle on longer runs. I came into the Two Hearted with a plan to hydrate like I had been in training but the weather was much cooler. I backed off the hydration a bit and felt like it was a good adjustment. Shortly after leaving the first aid station at 2.2 miles I felt my stomach sloshing. It felt like the liquids I had consumed starting at 4:45a (a cup of coffee and half a gatorade) and the liquid I drank from my water bottle weren’t actually being digested. They were just a’sloshin’! This quickly became nausea and then bad cramping. I’ve had some stomach pain on 20 mile training runs that eventually goes away and I figured this would too. Maybe it was just nervousness? It did not go away.

Sometimes It Does Always Get Worse

I want to be careful not to be critical because this was my first ultra and so it’s almost certainly my fault but there were a few things about this race that I believe were not as advertised and thus are opportunities for me to learn how to read between the lines of race websites and informational emails.

1. Running along a lake means running through deep sand for many, many miles. I thought running along Lake Superior would be beautiful but instead it was beautifully difficult. I thought it was a plus because there was little elevation change. But for about 10 miles of the race we were running in thick sand. This obviously takes time off of your pace but it also takes energy that would be useful later in the race. Fellow runners were talking about if it would be better to walk the sandy parts but then you’d just be struggling to walk instead of struggling to run and there was so much sand that you’d be hard pressed to hit cut offs. Running the sand was the only choice.

2. When the emails from the race director telling you what products will be available at the aid stations always contain different products it means they have no plan and probably were sent promotional products. In a “Pat”agonia-esque manner, in an attempt to avoid stomach issues, I emailed the race director to find out exactly what gels they would have. He replied quickly and I bought those gels and the hydration powder he mentioned and trained with them leading up to the race. I decided to not bring my backpack which could have held all I needed for aid and things that I know help my stomach because I felt good about the products I practiced with. They had different products on race day. This forced me to break a cardinal rule of ultra running and running in general: never use something for the first time on race day. 

Considering the extreme stomach pain and the deep sand, I was doing well through the second aid station at 9.2 miles. Then my stomach truly rebelled. I burped and felt like I might throw up but the feeling went away…until mile 14 when everything in my stomach went away. Thankfully I was alone when the vomit hit. Projectile sprays of pure liquid flew forth. It’s like I was a landscaper spraying for bugs along the side of the trail but using my mouth instead of a sprayer. 4 times followed by dry heaving until all of the contents of my stomach were in the woods and not in my belly. I’ve read about this happening and now I‘ve experienced it. I wish it was just someone else’s anecdote to keep in the back of my mind instead of something I had to wipe off the corners of my mouth.

This did bring immediate relief which got my hopes up, for about half a mile. Here’s the thing with an ultra run: you have to keep taking in calories or you can’t keep running. Garmin says I burned 4,000 calories on this run. At least some of those have to be replaced during the run. All of the potential calories that I had taken in decided to take themselves out and I’m pretty sure they weren’t digesting anyway. I was starting to feel sluggish and woozy but I kept on running. At the next aid station I grabbed a couple of gel packs and forced one down, gagging as I swallowed. It made my stomach burn but it stayed down. For the rest of the race I would gag down gel packs as sparingly as possible to keep my energy up. It was a dangerous dance indeed. I had to drink straight water instead of the Gnarly energy drink that they provided (and I trained with) which meant even less calorie and electrolyte replacement. Not gnarly! 

Another translation lesson I learned from race websites: “Single track” means the most narrow possible pathway covered in wet ferns and undergrowth. Seriously, if it wasn’t deep sand it was wet vegetation for the whole race. We were emailed the night before that these would be the driest conditions ever even after a rainstorm. What is this race normally like if those were exceptionally dry conditions? I officially declare the North Country Trail (28 miles of this race) to be a total disaster. Patrick and I joke about how bad it is in other places yet I thought this was going to be the nice part? There is no nice part of the NCT. But I’m still gonna go for the patch.

Other worsenings: As the morning went on the temps went up and the deer flies came out. They did air shows around my head for the last 15 miles and got a couple of good bites in. I had to slap myself in the head every few hundred feet to fend them off. The last 11 miles were a real struggle. My legs felt great for the whole race but my stomach was so bad. When a wave of nausea would pass I would go as fast as I could until my stomach hurt too much. On top of all of this, every time I needed to pee we’d be in a burned out section of forest where there were no trees to hide behind. When I was dehydrated at the end of the race there were plenty of trees and lots of roots to almost trip over.

The Result

I finished in 5:40:17 and I was miserable. I couldn’t believe how difficult this race was and how bad my stomach hurt. I complained wholeheartedly (mostly about my performance) and I was ready to never run again…for about an hour. I slowly reintroduced real food and began to perk up.

Here’s the crazy thing: in all of that struggle I ended up in 12th place out of 48. I thought I was near the back of the pack but there were a lot more people behind me than ahead of me! I PR’d my 50k by 25 minutes (nearly 1 minute per mile faster). I got a pint of maple syrup for finishing 2nd in my age group. Looking back, I did really well. Curse those high expectations!

In fact, with all that I had to overcome (I seriously had moments where I thought about dropping out but didn’t really know how to do that) I can’t believe I did as well as I did. I’m looking back and seeing a truly gutsy (pun intended) performance and many, many lessons learned. After all, this is the training because it’s all training!

If You’re Livin’ You’re Learnin’! Lessons I never want to learn again:

Bring The Backpack

Seriously, just bring the hydration backpack. Why wouldn’t you bring the backpack? Bring it. I could have had a variety of food and aid with me. I’ve never had that kind of stomach trouble before so I guess I needed to learn this but now I know to bring the backpack.

Ultras Are Hard

This should be obvious. The word “ultra” is in the title. But for some reason I thought this would be an easy ultra (those words together don’t even make sense). Here’s what I saw toward the end of this first race: Everybody was struggling the last 10 miles. People who looked like ultra veterans, people who talked about all the races they had done, people with cool running tattoos – all suffering together. People passed me during my waves of nausea and I thought I’d never see them again because they must have been better at pacing. But toward the end of the race I was passing people even with my constant stomach pain. It was a suffer fest and I wish I had expected that. The end of ultra races are struggles of human will more than showcases of physical fitness for most. I’ve read things like that in articles and books and now I’ve experienced it for myself. On the trail, I wished it wouldn’t have been so difficult but I think that was a de-lusion of grandeur. Maybe there’s a reason trail and trial are anagrams? The terrain, the remoteness, the sparse and confusing aid stations all made this first ultra race worthy of the ultra title.

Adventure Running > Ultra Racing

I’m so glad I got to experience this race and that I tried to try hard. This might change in the future but I think I like adventure running more than ultra racing. I didn’t bring a camera to take pictures because I didn’t want to stop. (The fog was so bad that you couldn’t see Lake Superior anyway.) I think I would have been better served to chill a little and enjoy this race more. Maybe if I have a couple more years of races and experience under my belt I can try hard again. I think this will help as I approach the Marquette 50 miler in 2 months. I’m confident that I can do it and this race helped me build confidence in the most terrible way possible. But I (wisely) want to do it with a more chill attitude. I want to take pictures and focus on enjoying the experience more. I think I can come in well under the cut offs and have more fun at the same time. Who knows, maybe it will even help the overall pace and time to be better! Even with a chiller attitude I will also keep reminding myself that the end of any ultra race is going to be very, very difficult.

Overall, the hard-earned and hard-learned perspective I’ve gained about the difficulty of running an ultra is what I’m most grateful for as I look back on this first official, non-virtual, ultra race with real aid stations not provided by Pat. Now I know that these things are hard. I guess I had to learn that the hard way!

How many bad decisions does it take to add up to an incredible weekend? I lost count but it was more than enough to have a memorable adventure in Michigan’s largest wilderness area. Patrick and I created a route through the Porcupine Mountain Wilderness a few months ago that would be a 34 mile, unsupported slog over 4,600 feet of the closest thing to mountains you can find in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. All of our planning and training would be put to the test on May 14th. The training went well and the planning seemed thorough but we made at least one bad decision before we left and had a looming question about the conditions answered in a shocking way on our drive.

The Fool On The Hill: The Bad Decision

Some would say the entire plan to run 34 miles unassisted in the wilderness was a bad plan but it’s the plans that you make after a bad plan that make it a fool’s errand or an incredible journey. We planned well. We made good choices. Except this: We decided to listen to the entire Beatles catalog of songs in chronological order as we drove from Lansing to Ontonagon and back. I remember excitedly agreeing. Who doesn’t love the Beatles? Well, not me anymore. The songs you know are the good ones and the songs you don’t are either early 60’s boppers about little girls or unlistenable cacophony from the late 60’s when they were trying too hard to be edgy. On top of that, you can’t control what Beatles songs end up in your head while you’re running (or in the week after you’ve come home). It’s Beatle-mania with an emphasis on the mania.

Lucy in the Sky with Black Flies: The Looming Question Answered

Patrick did his homework. He always does. As an engineer we joke that he lives in ‘Pat’agonia; a well-ordered place where logic dictates decision making. (Oh how disappointing real life must be!) He emailed a park ranger named Katie to ask about the 4 river crossings, the trail conditions, and the bugs in mid-May. Katie couldn’t give us definitive answers, but with a drier than normal Spring it seemed like we’d be best case in all of the unknowns. We were feeling good. Then we got on the Mackinac Bridge. On one of the pillars we saw a swarm. I thought it had to be bees because it looked like an angry hive. We drove on with slightly elevated heart rates. We headed west on US 2 and then we saw them. The infamous black flies of the UP. The sky above the roadway looked like it was filled with smoke from a shed fire but it was darkened by thick swarms of flies that stretched longer than football fields. The swarms went on intermittently for miles and miles. We were already being plagued by the Beatles and now we feared that the swarming black flies would bug us even more. As we continued driving west and north the flies dissipated, giving us (false) hope.

Day Tripper: Waterfalls on the Way

As we made our way from Mid-Michigan to our cabin near Ontonagon we had waterfalls on the itinerary. Our list started with Alger Falls, Scott Falls and Tioga Falls since they are viewable from the road in the central UP. Canyon Falls, nestled humbly in a roadside park was our first stop. We headed past the “trail ends” sign to the canyon where you can jump 40 feet into paradise but the cold water kept us from even entertaining the plunge. On the way to Sturgeon Falls we saw a label on google and then a sign for Ogemaw Falls which I had never been to. It was a beautiful little waterfall and quite the juxtaposition with Sturgeon which has the 4th most powerful flow in the UP as the Sturgeon River narrows from 50 yards to about 5 and the water seems to explode from the gorge.

As we got closer to the Porkies we finished our waterfall pre-gaming with 2 new falls: Peanut Butter and O Kun-de-Kun. Both of these falls ran along the North Country Trail in a clay bottomed river (rare for the UP) so the water looked like melted peanut butter. O Kun-de-Kun falls had a cool bridge over the Baltimore river and one could get behind the falls in warmer weather.

We got to our AirBnB wondering if we’d pushed a little hard knowing what we’d be doing at sunrise, wondering about black flies and mud, and wondering how the Beatles ever got so popular when their early songs were trash.

Across The Universe: 34 miles in the Porcupine Mountain Wilderness

We hit the trail shortly after sunrise. The first 3/4 mile was straight up a rocky hill so we could follow the top side of the escarpment trail. The sun rose behind us as we approached the Lake of the Clouds. We paused liberally for pictures as every bend revealed a new breathtaking panorama. The escarpment ended with a trek down into the old forest that surrounds the Big Carp River and the Little Carp River. The trail wasn’t all downhill but the trail conditions were. We faced mud, swamps, fallen trees, hard to find trails (Pro tip: they were always in whatever looked like the worst possible path), and black flies. We had four river crossings and had to filter our own water. One of my water bottles sprung a leak at mile 22 which didn’t help! Whenever we stopped to take off shoes for a river crossing or to take in water through our filter a black fly would come and hang out, blow a bugle and invite 100 of his closest friends. Fortunately, they weren’t en masse like we saw on route 2 but they definitely kept our breaks from being true breaks. And they really liked Patrick which was a reversal of sorts from our Jordan River Pathway run last year when the Deer Flies sent me to therapy.

Through it all we climbed the climbs, ran the runs, summited Summit and Government peaks and overcame bonks. I felt like I was done around mile 20 but hydrated and got more calories and perked up so I felt great for the last 10 miles of the run. Patrick’s bonk came a little later and he made friends with a tree (pictured above) but recovered so that we both felt strong at the finish and (foolishly) hopeful for more and bigger runs in the future.

It was so tough but so rewarding. Over 10 hours, 34 miles, and 4,600 feet of elevation of true unsupported wilderness trail running.

Porkies Loop Waterfalls:

• 14 Falls on the Big Carp River
• 12 Falls on the Little Carp River
• 8 Trap Falls
• Shining Cloud
• Trader
• Greenstone
• Trap
• Overlooked
• Explorers

All of these falls were new to me and they we exceptional!

We wobbled to Ontonagon and had frozen pizza at Stubbs, the most UP of all bars, and went to bed with over-ambitious plans for the next day.

Magical Mystery Tour: So many waterfalls and more running because one bad idea is never enough

Yep. We ran 34 miles on a Friday and followed it up with 9 more miles of trail running. We saw 34 waterfalls on Friday and 36 on our Saturday “rest day.” It was…ambitious. We trespassed 3 times before noon. We felt good until we didn’t. So many steps, some deer trails, and some really impressive waterfalls. We checked out Cold Iron Brewing in Ironwood and struggled to find food in the whole western UP but ended up with some tasty pasties (that doesn’t rhyme!).

Waterfalls:

• Superior (stone skipping beach)
• Saxon
• Black River (Many falls along non-trail between Rainbow and Sandstone)
• Manikiki (the unnamed one is now officially called Wendell Falls)
• Powderhorn (with hunger games style traps)
• Gabbro (Scary)
• Sunday Lake* (Up from the earth!)
• Root Beer*
• Presque Isle River Kettles and Falls
• Nonesuch Falls* and mine ruins
• Inspiration Falls* and the falls around the Artist in Residence cabin in Little Union Gorge

And In The End The Love You Get Is Equal To The Love You Give: Even more waterfalls on the way home

The Beatles were wrong. I mean, they were the wrong choice for a playlist. But also, they were wrong about the love equation, at least when it comes to the UP. The love the UP gives, the inspiration, excitement and peace all at the same time, can’t be equalled. This is true of God and God’s country in the UP: I can never give it as much as I get from it. We squeezed everything we could out of four days in the last good place on earth and somehow I feel totally content and wanting more at the same time. The trip back had new waterfalls (Bonanza!) and some heavy hitters (Bond and Agate). Our quads were challenged but our spirits stayed positive. I’m so grateful for for this adventure on so many levels: health, friendship, creation and inspiration. May it make me more ready for whatever long and winding road I end up on next.

Waterfalls:

• Bonanza*
• Bond
• Agate
• Jumbo*
• Duppy*

New Falls = *

Glory.

The theme of the day was glory. Glory in God’s creation. Glory in the completion of a multi-year dream and all that training to build up to ultra mileage. Glory in the greatest friends who joined me on the path. Glory in the pain of running 42 miles. It was a truly glorious day!

It started the day before with a drive up to Munising. We caravanned with two caravans that we’d need during the run to swap runners and provide aid according to Pat’s perfectly detailed plan. We arrived and headed out for a run to two great waterfalls in Munising: Memorial and Tannery Falls. These twin falls have been carved out by tiny creeks through the centuries that have formed huge bowls in the sandstone with their persistence. The light cool rain was enough to keep anyone from taking a shower under one of the falls, as inviting as they seemed.

As the evening went on I wasn’t feeling great. My knee was really hurting from the long drive and I had a headache and a stomach ache. I’m not sure how much was from nervousness about tackling the distance the next day but I went to bed uneasy.

Morning came and we all got up at 5am so we could leave by 5:45 but already the glory was beginning. I had no knee pain and felt great! The forecast called for clear skies with a starting temp of 34 degrees climbing up to 50F by the afternoon: perfect! We arrived a little earlier than the sunlight that we’d need to hit the trail but it came up quick and after a few pictures I hit the trail with Ryan and Alexis who would accompany me for the first 12 miles. When my watch hit the 1 mile mark I thought, “Just 41 more of those, you got this!” We took off at a leisurely pace and I ran the whole day not worried about stopping to take a picture or soak in a vista. We met Pat and Doug at the first aid station at log slide where loggers over a century ago sent the surrounding old growth forest on a 300 foot slide down a dune into the big lake to help power Michigan’s industrial rise. Doug and Pat descended and ascended it while waiting for us and both (all four?) of their quads were up to the task!

A half mile after we took off there was an opening in the wood line that gave the first real view of Superior. I couldn’t help but cry “glorious!” We all were laughing and yelling at the overwhelming beauty. I was completely filled with awe at the bird’s eye view of the bluest blue waves crashing into the coast that stretched on and on. I thought about how I’d soon be running along that coast even farther than I could see. All of my senses were engaged: The wind blew with cool strength but felt good on my skin and caused the 6 to 10 foot waves below to fill my ears with their rushing din. The horizon stretched across the inland sea in a panorama that my eyes widened to match. Not to be left out my sense of taste still had the lingering salty sweetness of my first uncrustable PBJ of the day! Glorious indeed!

We picked up Doug at about the 8 mile mark so he could run the next half marathon with me We dropped off Ryan and Alexis near the start of 12 mile beach. I’ve been to parts of this trail before but the first 26 miles were all new to me and they were amazing. As the mileage got up into the teens I was still feeling good. The Rays and Doug kept me distracted with good stories and conversation and the brief stops to experience the glory of God’s goodness helped give me rest and stoke my excitement. One of the cool things that Doug and I saw was an old car that was abandoned in the woods about as far away from a road as you could get. Doug even found his name etched by some other Doug who’d been by. My dad had warned me not to get lost in the Beaver Basin and there were a few trail intersections that made us pause but we made it through!

Around mile 19 my legs really started burning which is concerning when that’s not even half way! At the 12 mile beach aid station I just didn’t take enough calories with me. I was very much looking forward to meeting up with Pat and the “meet bag” at the next stop. I ate oreos, nutter butters, fruit snacks and popped some ibuprofen at the 20 mile mark and Pat was ready to help get me through the rest of the run. It only took a couple of miles to start feeling better. I made a mental note about calories and Pat did great reminding me to eat or take a gel more often so I wouldn’t hit a wall. We ran through the most picturesque parts of Pictured Rocks and it was… Glorious!

Here’s the crazy thing. I felt really good the whole rest of the way. In almost 42 miles, almost 9.5 hours, I only felt kind of bad for one or two miles. I was scampering over roots and tiptoeing around mud with much more efficiency than I ever imagined I’d have so late in the run. Pat commented that he’s seen people happy when they finish a long run but he’s never seen someone so happy the whole way! Glory! I’m so grateful I didn’t turn an ankle or get light headed and fall off a cliff or get eaten by a bear (although any of those things would have made for a better blog post.) The whole crew came a mile into the woods and we ran the last mile or so together to end with plenty of daylight at Munising Falls.

We all felt great and celebrated with a beer at East Channel and some pizza. I’m so grateful that I could share this experience with such great people! The run was done but the UP fun wasn’t! The next morning we had time in the Word at Falling Rock Cafe and then headed for Marquette to have a Dead River Falls adventure. We hiked to all the falls which involved some perilous river crossings and then decided to stay on the opposite bank a little too long. This revealed some unseen waterfalls for Doug and I in a place that we’ve been many times but it also made it necessary to cross the cold and rapid river to get back to the van. As the guys scratched their heads to figure out what to do, Alexis was already halfway across the river with her shoes tucked in her hoodie like a pro (or like a West Virginian). We all made it across, some wetter than others (cough, cough, Doug). We spent some time at Black Rocks and Ore Docks – both the places and their eponymous breweries.

It should be noted that there was one glaring disappointment with this trip. No Taco Primo. The world’s greatest fish tacos were closed to the world because they apparently made too much money this summer and didn’t need to stay open. I’ve decided to embark on my own culinary quest to make the best whitefish tacos so I will no longer be dependent on anyone and I’ve designed this t-shirt to commemorate the disappointment.

On Tuesday we went for a pre-dawn run to some other Munising waterfalls (Wagner and Alger). Then we packed up and spent some time at Gallery coffee with the crew and talked about the news that really matters. Pat: “Mushrooms are news.” Jesus: “Make sure your eye is good.” These were the biggest spiritual takeaways from the trip. Out in the woods, nothing that we call news mattered. If our eyes are focused on the right things then we see the world differently. I resolved to spend less time looking at the world through the tiny lens of my phone or computer. We shared our favorite moments and hit the road. I was still basking in the glory of it all and already longing for more!

In May I ran a virtual 50k with friends supporting me at the Poto. I got a shirt and a medal from the race that got cancelled due to Covid. (And a medal from Pat that was even better than the one from the race!) Now, it’s September 4th and I’m running a 50k to train up for my 42 mile run along Pictured Rocks that is planned for exactly 1 month later. I guess it’s a good marker of progress when what was worthy of support, a T-shirt and medals is now part of your training. But this doesn’t mean it was easy!

I decided to run at the Brighton Recreation area for a few reasons. It’s hilly, rocky, rooty and sandy the whole way. It’s really a terrible trail and no fun at all which is the exact challenge I needed to be ready. I wanted to practice on a tougher trail than the PRNL. It’s also a 5 mile loop. I added a little to each loop so I could do 5 laps instead of 6 because each lap was soul-sucking even though I reversed directions each time. I needed a loop like this so I could have my van be my aid station as I try to dial in my hydration and caloric needs for the big run. The aid station worked great and I had almost no stomach problems. My legs were another story.

My legs felt tired around mile 8 and the rest was a sore sufferfest. But, a sufferfest that I finished. My time was even a little faster than my first 50k (11 minute PR) and it was hillier than Pictured Rocks will be. I don’t think Pat was thrilled to hear how tough it was since he’ll be running the last 20 miles with me next month but it is what it is. Hopefully with a good taper I’ll feel better longer into the run but the reality is that the run along Pictured Rocks will be beautiful and painful. I can’t wait!

• 

• 

Houghton

As a family we took a trip to the UP in the middle of August and I was able to sneak away for a couple of amazing runs in God’s country. Because of the pandemic, the UP is having a great year for tourism. The businesses were all business when it came to being safe with the virus floating around. We couldn’t find a place to stay 4 nights anywhere so we had to split our trip and that turned out to be wonderful.

To find two nights on a weekend we had to look all the way in Houghton. So our adventure started on top! We spent a day traveling the Keweenaw peninsula, visiting the thimbleberry monks, waterfalls and beach towns that make this one of the most special places on the planet.

At the end of the day I ran an out and back on the Houghton waterfront trail. I started by running across the amazing lift bridge that spans the Portage river and connects Houghton to Hancock and the Keweenaw. This unique draw bridge lifts straight up instead of the more common way of opening like a V. We got to see it in action for a few sailboats and it’s amazing. Unfortunately, as I ran across it stayed level. The Portage river is actually man made and technically turns the rest of the Keweenaw into an island. It was important to dredge the river and open up both sides so ships wouldn’t have to go around the treacherous tip of the peninsula. Now the big ore boats have no need for the Portage River and have no problems on the big lake as long as they are not named Edmund Fitzgerald.

My run took me along the river from the bridge through downtown Houghton, through Michigan Tech to the Nara Nature Center where I expected to run along a boardwalk through a rare type of swamp land. But I was greeted by a sign saying the boardwalk was closed due to a catastrophic rain from 2018 that dropped 7 inches of rain on Houghton! I still ventured out a little ways but it was clearly in a state of dangerous disrepair so I headed back and called it a run.

Of special note: Every month I enter a running challenge with a dozen of my friends (and a few people I’ve never met) through Garmin. As a ran through Houghton on the last day of the month and the challenge I had a slight mileage lead but thought it probably wouldn’t last. Since I was on vacation with my family I couldn’t do anything desperate or heroic if someone jumped ahead of me. In past challenges I’ve ran close to midnight to get the win. A few months earlier I came out on top of a battle with Wes.

During my run I got the notification that Wes was ahead. I looked and saw that he had run a marathon to catch me and pass me so I texted him to congratulate him. He replied that it was also his anniversary so he had won the contest but wasn’t sure if he’d still be married! I have to admit it gave me a bit of a boost to know that someone was out there running a marathon on their anniversary just to catch me in monthly miles! As a minister, I’m usually in the business of helping marriages but this was an exception. (Update: their marriage is fine.)

Pictures below include some vital Keweenaw history.

• The Italian Hall Tragedy memorialized by a heartbreaking Woody Guthrie song.
• My favorite small waterfall in the UP at Silver Creek
• The memorial to Michigan’s almost mythological superhero scientist: Douglass Houghton
• A sign at the Jampot that is good advice for runners
• A long way to travel for expensive jam (worth it)
• And Bishop Baraga keeping watch over the Keweenaw bay (another near mythological Michigander)

Blackrocks to Blackrocks, Ore Docks to Ore Dock

This was an amazing run on an amazing trip! Even the weather was unique. In Houghton, the high was 86F, which is really warm for them. But a cold front came through overnight and it was like God hit the button for fall in the UP. The next day in Marquette it was rainy and the high barely hit 60F. Pretty cool that we got to experience two seasons in one trip!

We stayed across the street from Blackrocks Brewery. And I’m not saying across the street like nearby or down the road. It was right there out our front window! This sparked an idea for an epic Marquette run. I’d go from Blackrocks Brewery to the Black Rocks cliff jumping area at Presque Isle park just north of town. On the way back I’d run underneath the ore docks and head into town to Ore Dock Brewing. One run, two iconic breweries and the two iconic places in Marquette that inspired the breweries’ monickers. The weather was beautiful and the run felt great.

I ran through Northern Michigan University up toward the park. Presque Isle Park is a big one way loop for cars. It’s famous for albino deer which I was on the lookout for but did not see. I didn’t know that it has a single track trail as well as the paved road but it was a great find that made the run more interesting.

The ore docks by the park are active but there was no action this day. In the past we’ve seen the railcars dumping fresh loads of iron ore down the shoots into the giant lake freighters causing the waterline to rise as the big boats fill up with rocks from what’s left of ancient mountains near Negaunee.

I ran along the Superior shoreline past the old ore docks in downtown Marquette for which the brewery is named and then inland two blocks past the sleepy brewery. The hill from downtown up to our place felt great even as I neared 10 miles. Next time, if there are less Covid restrictions, I’ll start with a beer from Blackrocks and end with a beer from Ore Dock.

The time with family (and the dog) was wonderful. The UP brought me refreshment and joy as it always does. And these runs were a great way to enjoy God’s best.

One last thing: God was in the UP with us. I know that sounds strange but it’s true. Because of the virus, everyone has to work from home, including God. So, of course, he’s in da UP!

• Blackrocks cliff divers through the trees
• The rocky single track at Presque Isle park
• Ore docks and breweries and the lake

Yesterday I ran at Sleepy Hollow State Park. It seems like at some point the DNR wanted state parks just outside of each metro area in Michigan. So for Lansing area people, Sleepy Hollow is our State Park. It also seems like at some point God decided to make the geology of west Michigan from Kzoo to GR and north as well as the east side surrounding the Detroit area very interesting with hills, glacial lakes and rivers flowing into the great lakes. He decided to make the middle of Michigan a flat boring swamp that got turned into farmland. So Sleepy Hollow, which surrounds the man-made Lake Ovid is not a great State Park but it’s the one we have. It’s really trying its best with out much help from the last Ice Age.

The best thing about the trail around the park is that it’s almost exactly a half marathon if you do the little Island loop, making it the longest single track in the area by far. The other thing that’s great is that since it’s not that great, no one is ever there. It’s not very hilly. It’s like a big Burchfield.

Historical Note: A decade ago I built a sail canoe out of a regular canoe (The Dawn Treader) and I sailed it across lake Ovid. My friend Clay sailed it about 100 yards into the lake, tipped it over and treaded 50 degree April water for about 15 minutes before a boat came through and towed him and the sail canoe to shore. He lost his shoes and I lost confidence in the sail canoe and deconstructed it with never realized plans to turn it into a rowing canoe. (It is currently just a regular canoe)

Yesterday’s run was uneventful and pretty quick considering I did 20 miles the day before as I gear up for Pictured Rocks. I saw turkeys, partridges, a toad and no humans on the 13 mile loop. The trail is mostly wooded but the clouds were so pretty that I took a picture of a part of the trail that is in a meadow. The humidity took a day off too which was a pleasant change!