Marji Who?

I first realized Marji Gesick wasn’t a person only shortly before signing up for this EPIC race, but in fact seems to just be the name of the race, attempting to cover as many miles as possible in Marquette County Michigan. This area is known for amazing outdoor recreation, incredible trails and beautiful views. The race is run largely over single track sculpted mountain bike trails, and as such, is primarily a bike race. However, in stark contrast to the 800+ bikers, myself and 40 other runners set off on Friday at noon, a full 19 hours before the 100 mile bikers would be departing. The odds were not in our favor, as the historical Did Not Finish (DNF) rate is 80%, no pacers are allowed and there are no on course aid stations.

Four of us from Wausau set out together, the first 1/2 mile on bike, a “Le-Bike” start to echo the Lemans start of the bike race. We each brought our own crews, as it was almost inevitable to get separated over such a distance. Each of us with the singular purpose of just making it to the finish line, knowing a possible shot at a belt buckle, a sub 28 race time, was extremely difficult task, something only 8 runners have ever done, hell, there’s only ever been about 40 finishers!

Wausau Represents

• Ellen Humberston back for her second Marji attempt, crewed by:
  • Jennifer Schmoldt
  • Tiffany King
• Chris Pollack attempting his first 100, crewed by:
  • Alan Stenger
  • Tracey Schindler
• Chad Esker attempting his first 100, crewed by:
  • Travis White
  • Stefen King
• Rob Hoehn attempting my first 100, crewed by:
  • Jake Daul
  • Andy Natzke

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We rolled into Marquette on Thursday for packet pickup, a little walk around and drive around the town to see the sights and a nice pizza dinner. Quite a nice town, and I was actually a bit bummed to not be able to see more of it. But that gives me a good reason to head back for a visit. Dinner was fantastic, enjoyed with a couple other racers and crews, a lot of laughs and stories helped to keep the nerves somewhat at bay. Back to the hotel, I actually tried to stay up a little later than normal. With a noon start, it’s hard to get good grasp on when you should be attempting to rest until. Turns out for me at least, it didn’t matter in the slightest. Just like Ultraman 7 months prior, I laid awake almost the entire night, resting my body, but not my mind.

Race Day! Noon Start!?!

After a slow start to the day, we ventured out into the pea soup of a foggy morning and had a group breakfast at Big Boys. I didn’t even know that restaurant still existed! It was Chad and his crew plus me and mine. Our plan for the run was to stick together for as long as we were able to, with the thinking that since the race didn’t allow for pacers, we’d have better luck running together than we would solo. We stil had about 2 hours until the noon race start once back at the hotel, so, I tried to get a shower in, but only had cold water remaining… well, guess I’ll try to actually get a little sleep before starting off, but the anxiety over what I knew was coming, just wouldn’t let me drift off, still, time in the dark quiet room was helpful.

The world was wet this morning, foggy, cool, and super humid, everything was just sticky wet damp. While driving into the race site, it was my first reminder that, although town was going to be relatively close by this entire run, the rough wilderness was just a few steps away. After just a couple of turns we were on some rutted and muddy dirt roads heading into Forestville Park. Opening the truck doors and being greeted to Metallica blasting from the speakers at the race start, I felt completely at home.

Pretty quickly, Tracy found us, she had just a couple more bikes with her, a Mt bike and an old school, fixed gear BMX! A bike would be needed for me to ride the first ½ mile. Thankfully Tracy offered to let us all borrow a bike from her uncles’ camp nearby, meaning we didn’t need to bring one from home and tote it around the entire race, a godsend! I took the ‘Lil’ MisMatched’ BMX for a ride around the parking lot, it was entirely too small for me, but would powerslide like a monster on the loose gravel. I wanted to take this one for the race, but my crew wisely cautioned against it, due to unnecessary wear on my knees, common sense prevails over choosing the ‘fun’ path.

Getting close now, we made certain to get in a few group pictures, enjoyed some lighthearted jokes and got in line to ride out. Todd (race director of Blame Todd fame) came over to give us a pep talk, citing the historical averages of an 80% DNF rate. Which really hits home while standing next to 40 others, of which you know many will not make it to the finish line, heck, there were 26 that didn’t even make the starting line. He reminded us to remember why we were doing this, and to think of those who couldn’t when things got tough. A fantastic electric guitar rendition of the national anthem and we were off and biking to the explosion of a bottle rocket.

With a lot of laughs and some great banter from the other riders we found our way around the short ½ mile loop. The whole thing was quite comical and actually a great way to break the tension that built up during the anticipation of the start. Once around, ditching the bikes with the crew and off on the run proper. The first 6 miles are quite easy, simple logging road running without much for elevation changes, until we got the first taste of the single track and our first climb up to top of the world.

This area of Marquette was simply beautiful, as we ran next to a river, near a waterfall and a dam. The hardwoods were pristine, with several natural rock cliffs and giant boulders scattered about. At one point we ran down an old railroad line, where the wooden timbers were still in the ground and we had a marshy lake off to both sides and while it was beautiful, I was very happy I wasn’t on a bike going over that uneven, choppy ground.

While it never did rain hard during the morning, everything was still just soaked from the mist. Temperatures were steady all day around 65 degrees, and with the humidity, and running, we were sweating buckets. The crew was able to meet us every 4-6 miles, which worked out well, as I’d be out of water that quickly. The stops were a good chance to get dried off and cooled down, take in some solid food and every other stop, change out the socks and shirt. Putting on fresh, dry clothing, even if it only stayed dry a few minutes, was a very welcomed small bit of comfort.  

As afternoon steadily marched towards evening, we continued our trek around Marquette. Passing in and out of woods, covering long stretches of single track, broken up by short bits of easier flatter terrain. The trails continued to get more technical and rockier, with sharp climbs and descents built in. These were mountain bike trails after all, and they were sculpted to give a good challenging and fun ride. At one point, while crossing an active railroad, we noticed thousands of tiny balls on the tracks. They looked the same color as the rock but were pretty uniformly shaped. They so intrigued me that I grabbed one to bring on the rest of the journey and remembered to ask a local race official about it at the finish line. Apparently, they were all iron ore pellets, that bounced off the train cars in transit.

Continuing on, we came to a section I was fore warned about. The ‘Sands of Marquette’, a 1.5-mile section that ran under a power line, so was clear cut, but continued to slope up and down. Oh and the trail consisted of loose sand, much like running on a beach, but nowhere near the water. Each foot strike would sink in an inch or two, making running nearly impossible, reducing us to a steady walk. About halfway through this section a trail angel left a table out there, seemingly in the middle of nowhere with water and food for those running completely self-supported.

Out of the sands, and on to dinner time. At the next stop, the crew had a chicken sandwich waiting for me! This was heavenly, after eating gels and sugary foods all day, a good salty, fatty sandwich really hit the spot. Over the past few hours my stomach had continued to give me troubles from all the sugar. Every time I’d try to eat a snickers or gel pack I’d feel nauseous for 15-20 minutes, so I started to switch to Belvita crackers and more salty foods with fruit at the crew stops. Knowing I wasn’t getting much for calories out on the trails, I forced down as much as possible each time I saw the crew, and I certainly didn’t need to force the chicken sandwich.

Out from the dinner crew stop, we actually had some easy running, almost two miles of connection roads to join up the trails on the west side of Marquette to those on the east. This felt like just another training run now. The fatigue building in the legs seemed to disappear as we pounded the pavement in the rain. Feeling great out on those flats, and while pushing the pace a bit hard, it just felt really good to move with some speed for the first time in hours. Off the pavement and back into single track, this section was quite pretty, winding around some swampy areas, Chad and I were still sticking together, and by this point, it was just us.

The trail led out to a small farm and construction area where we had our first little trail marking question. The sign appeared to point across the road, but where to from there? Ahead of us there were 2 other runners, and they continued on down the road, but from out a field, Chris came running towards us. I stopped to check the map quick, and it did look like we were to continue on down the road, and we now had Chris join up with us after he took a short detour. As we jumped back into the woods on some more single track, we circled around and around a golf course In the woods it was dark enough to need a light, but once out in the clear it was still light enough to golf. In fact, we continued to hear the golfers teeing off and talking for quite a while. The darkness continued to build though, so I grabbed my headlight, only to realize it had dead batteries, oops, always check your gear before a big race! I was still able to see a bit, just enough to at least stay on trail. As it darkened we figured out that if Chad ran just behind me, his light was enough for me to see well enough to get us out of the woods and hooked up with our crews.

Since finding Chris, and sticking together through the first bit of dark, we all hit the crew stop at the same time. Dusk was really starting to turn to dark at this point and the rain was picking up a bit. We all got some food, new clothes, trekking poles and set off together. It felt like the start of an adventure, our spirits were high, despite the coming 11 hours of darkness. Pushing out from the clearing we were crewed in, the trail turned back into the dark woods quickly, and into a long climb. These trails were easy, logging roads essentially, but just continued up, up, up. By the time we reached the top, I was ready for a great bomb down the hill on some similar terrain. What I got however, was switch back after switch back, each with a platform box in the middle of straight section. Think of it like a sandy trail, where you have a 180 degree turn every 20 yards, that’s on a 45-degree slope so the bikes and ride the bank. Then, when you could build some speed running on the straight, there’s a 5-foot-tall mound of dirt, that’s a 50 degree climb and descent. Just steep enough to take 2 steps up and down, losing all momentum and stretching out all your leg muscles. Now do that about 24 times down the entire hill. Needless to say, this was my least favorite section of the entire course. Finally, at the bottom of the hill, we started to see some gigantic pipes, like 6 feet wide. They’d be partly exposed out of the ground in places, which wasn’t a big deal, until we crossed a short ravine, and the pipe became the bridge. I couldn’t help but think of how the bikers would be getting across this, as I’m sliding my feet across the pipe, slippery from rain and sand, my trekking poles useless in the air around me. It certainly made the section interesting and memorable though.

The rain really started to pick up at this point, you could almost call it a downpour, and somehow, our crew found an actual wooden shelter for the next stop! How nice it was to get out of the rain, if only for a short duration, to try and get some food in and change out some socks. Also at this stop, our little band of 3 split up. We had covered about 41 miles together, but it was time for Chad and I to separate and find our own pacing the rest of the way in. Alone for the first time, I grabbed my poles and set off in the rainy night once again.  

After winding through the woods for a mile or so, I came to a dirt road, which was at a slight incline. At first I attempted to continue to jog up, but it just continued to get steeper and steeper. Hiking up now, I could just make out some lights ahead of me in the rain, I pushed and continued to close on them, but then, they just disappeared. Continuing on, suddenly from the other side of the top of the hill lights were shining directly at me. Two different runners, Chris and someone I didn’t know were coming up the other side of the hill saying they went too far, but I just saw a sign that said to continue on the way there were going… quite confusing. Getting out my phone, which was thankfully still working in the rain, and checking the map, I found that sure enough we were up past the turn off point. Back tracking, we saw a sign within the woods and a trail leading down to it, but no sign at the turning point, apparently that one must have somehow wandered off from where it should have been. The first two lights I was following, found this trail successfully, while I continued right on past it, and I know I wasn’t the only one.

On the right track now, Chris was running with me again, as we continued down a narrow trail with a rock cliff to our right and a drop to the left. The bonus with running at night is, you have no clue how far that drop actually goes down, and can just focus on ensuring your feet are on the trail. At one point, there was a stick on the trail, that I decided to nudge down the drop, doing a little trail maintenance, but when I kicked it, it moved quite strangely, and taking a closer look as it tumbled down, it appeared to be the part of a front leg of a deer, the hoof and ankle moving freely from the rest of the leg. A stark reminder of the wolves and big cats in the area. Further down the trail, and thankfully off that ledge, we were greeted with our first check point. Marji is setup with an unknown number of checkpoints in unknown locations, to ensure that the racers are hitting all of the trail, since there aren’t any other marshals or even aid stations out there to fill that purpose. I reached into the big fake pumpkin bucket and pulled out a wooden nickel with “Find” stamped in the center.

From out of the darkness, the bright lights of some crew vehicles and our popup tent was a very welcoming sight. Knowing that Chad was still behind us, I made certain to warn his crew about the miss-leading signage and the first checkpoint. A quick bite to eat and once again, back into the rain. Pushing on solo once again, the night was starting to take its toll. While the wind had picked up a little, clearing out some of the mist hanging in the air, I was hiking up a section solo, when from about 20 yards into the woods on my right I heard something large falling through the branches of a tree to a large THUD on the ground. Now, chances are, this was just a branch breaking off and falling, but when you’re tired, alone and in the woods at night, the first thought is, “a bear just fell out of that tree, and it’s going to be pissed!” With a suddenly renewed vigor, I pushed hard up that hill and started running once it flattened out, looking behind me every few seconds, just to ensure nothing was back there.

Once the nerves settled and I put some distance between me and the ‘bear,’ I continued to push forward, slowing, but still moving. I fired up a new Dresden Files book, trying to get my mind distracted, but couldn’t concentrate on the story. Things were starting to become a blur, it all looked the same in the dark and wet, just one foot in front of the other. At this point I was running on 1-2 hours of sleep in the past 40 hours and was ready for a nap. So, I kept my eyes open for a decent spot, and curled up just off the trail next to a downed birch tree in the wet leaves and tried to get just a little sleep. I didn’t set an alarm, at this point, I didn’t really care, just needed a little break. No sooner than I closed my eyes, lights started bopping up the trail towards me, three other runners, one by one passed, thankfully not saying a word, assuming I was sleeping. But, like the night before, actual sleep never came. However, five minutes of rest, and shut eye, was enough to get me feeling a little better.

Coming in to get crewed next, it was time to crack into the Mt. Dew. I’d been abstaining from caffeine for two weeks, just for this moment. While I was hoping it wouldn’t be needed until about 24 hours in, however getting through the night now became the priority. The soda kicked like a mule and now I was really feeling awake and ready to run again. Tackling the next single track section quickly I was off to the longer flat section leading away from Marquette and towards Jackson Park in Ishpeming, absolutely flying on the flats once again. The fatigue seemed to melt away and I found a rhythm to just pound out as much of the easy terrain as possible. During an uphill section I caught up with another racer, Egor, and we had a good talk, which really helped to pass the time as well. Off that climb it was a straight shot to Jackson Park. There’s something a bit spooky, and almost voyeuristic about running through a strange town in the middle of the night when there isn’t another soul around. Well and truly into the heart of the night now, the town seemed deserted.  Apparently even devoid of my crew, usually a bright jewel in the night, now, nothing. Running through town, I spotted Jakes’ truck, but nothing setup, apparently, I was ahead of schedule and woke up the crew who were trying to get some much-deserved sleep. Still flying high on caffeine though, I attempted to be as quiet as possible, made it a quick stop and was off to enjoy more single track on the back side of the course, the forewarned difficult 40 miles of the race.

Heading off onto the trail, I saw another runner coming back at me on a nearby trail, it was Chris, looking like he was in great spirits and moving well. I attempted to figure out how far ahead he was at this point but couldn’t really understand the map too well while running, just looked like a lot of squiggles. I took solace in the fact that I was still on course and moving well. The rain had subsided by this point, but everything was still wet, so after taking in a gel, I attempted to ‘wash’ my hands by grabbing some leaves as I ran by, but while reaching up to get them, the gravel road suddenly turned to asphalt, and I tripped on the lip, landing on my hands and skidding to a halt. Yep, my first, and spoiler, only fall of the entire race, and it was on a flat road, oops.

The sky was starting to get just a little lighter by the time I was done with the Jackson Park section, and my crew met me on the trail with coffee and donuts, the only stop I had a pre-determined plan at. I love coffee and donuts, who doesn’t? So, I thought it would be the best possible way to welcome in the new day It was the perfect way to start day 2 on the trail, besides what was to come after coffee. As the sun continued to make its appearance in the cloudy sky, nature stuck and it was time for another first, but, unlike the dirt nap attempt, this was going to require me to get much further off the trail.

As the day continues to lighten, the spirits continue to rise. Now I’m hitting shorter little sections of trail that seem to be right in town, I can hear the morning traffic noise starting to grow. But the trail does become more technical with shorter steeper climbs over sheer rock faces, and descents of much the same. Even so, I’m making great time, much better than I thought I would be at this point, looking at the watch I even start thinking that perhaps a belt buckle could be possible?? That’s a sub 28 hour run, and at this point, depending on the terrain the rest of the way in, and how much of it I could run vs hike, it may be entirely possible.

Or, so I thought, for about a mile. Seemingly out of nowhere, my right ankle became extremely tight and painful. I wasn’t aware of any singular event that caused this. Earlier in the run Is rolled both the left and right ankles, with no lasting consequences. So it was rather strange that my right ankle was now causing me so much grief. It became very painful to go down slopes, and cover the uneven terrain, but on the completely flat trails and roads I could still shuffle along pretty well. The best I could tell at this point was that lateral movements seemed to work, but pushing the toes down or pulling them up, gave me the problems.

I somehow happened to catch up to Chris during this climb and we ran the flats on out towards town together. Getting close to downtown now, just a couple blocks away from the finish line even, but there was still a marathon yet to travel before crossing that line. Having made some good progress on the flats, despite the ankle pain, I was feeling pretty good about still putting down a decent time. Being about 21.5 hours into the race, that would leave 6.5 hours for the final marathon to still buckle. Still knowing the hardest terrain was to come though, I wasn’t very optimistic.

While closing in on Jackson Park for the second time, near mile 85, I knew the crew would be waiting, so I’d have to see what kind of magic they could work on me to keep the leg moving along. The park was now alive with people, so many people, just everywhere! Mountains of drop bags, bikes laying all over the place, crew, spectators, event organizers, it felt like I was in a race once again. The best I could tell, the fifty mile bikers were to be coming through here soon, and since the 100 mile riders were on the course now, all of the drop bags were present and awaiting their owners. However, the one thing I didn’t see anywhere was my crew. So, I continued the jog the trail around the park, crossed the timing mat, sat down and texted the crew to see where they were. It was such an odd sensation, just sitting on the side of a hill, watching the chaos of the scene below, with random cheers going up here and there as racers came out of the woods. In a matter of minutes my crew got back to me, they were just a little further up the road, turned out I sat down too soon. One more push down a slope to the crew and some possible relief for my ankle.

Letting the crew know the issue, they were on it in an instant. No sooner than I sat down, my shoes were off and ice was being applied. I took a bit longer at this stop to ensure some proper care, but also to ensure I could get a decent amount of food in, as I was still having nausea every time I ate out on the trail. We used some topical pain relief on the ankle, got new socks and swapped out the wet shoes, then it was back on the road again. While it certainly was still bothersome, the treatment helped to make the pain much more manageable.

The next section of the course led out from Jackson Park in a different direction, through some switchback madness. Back and forth dozens of times up and down a couple of hills through the woods. As this was currently all non-runnable for me, and I had cell reception, I took the opportunity to give Kel a call to hear a friendly voice. It was great to check in and get some support from back home, I told her just how difficult things were getting, and she told me just to keep pushing, to continue on and finish what I started. Out of the switchbacks and off the phone, with a final climb up a big hill and the second check point token, “Your”.

At this point, the mountain bikers were starting to pass pretty frequently, so while running on single track, you’d have to continually be listening for them coming up behind you. It wasn’t a big deal to move over and let them by, and in fact it might have helped to take my mind off the run a bit. During some of the really steep climbs, I was even able to get a few good conversations in, while they pushed their anchor of a bike uphill on their slippery bike shoes and I promptly passed them with my poles lending assistance, I’d jump ahead, only to be passed as soon as the downhill started. However, there’d be enough time to share a mutual admiration, as I have no clue how people bike this terrain and they couldn’t fathom running 100 miles over it.

A few more climbs, and a few more descents. Another crew stop and back to the woods. While climbing up to the top of a particularly beautiful hill, I paused to do a little video and take some pictures, only to notice a complete deer skeleton draped over a rock with the Marji directional sign next to it, yet another reminder of being in much more remote wilderness than the woods back home. I was starting to attempt to do the math again, just to see where I might be able to come in, knowing a buckle was out of the question, my sleep deprived brain couldn’t concentrate on the math long enough to estimate the pace for the remaining miles. Additionally, my watch appeared to be ahead on miles, which was odd as running in the woods it has always been behind. So, I stopped trying to figure it out, focused on staying within the moment and not thinking about finish lines or start lines or even the next crew stop. Just one step at a time, one hill, up and down. Step a side for a biker, share some words, one foot in front of the other, just keep moving forward. Hustle where it flattens out, slow for the climbs, take it easy downhill, don’t think about the pain in your foot, that pain will fade, just one step at a time.

This last bit of the course was harder and harder for the crew to get to us frequently, not particularly great nearing the end when aid was needed the most. Instead of stops every 4-6 miles, it was turning into 8-9 miles, then 12 miles, the last 12 miles. That last stop was bittersweet, another round of ice and topical pain relief for my foot, a last attempt at getting some proper food down. While the crew was working on my feet, I had the massage gun going on my legs, attempting to keep the cramps from coming, when the head of the gun bounced off my phone a few times. My watch told me I started a phone call ?? I quickly hung up, confused, and my phone started ringing. Stefen told me to pick up, it was most likely emergency services, that phone thought it was in an accident due to the pounding it took. Sure enough, I answered to a concerned fellow from 911 dispatch, assuring him I was alright, and it was a mistaken call, I couldn’t help but to think, what if I ignored it? Would I find an officer out on the trail awaiting me? The mental image of that cracked me up, and I thought about it for the next few miles. The crew loaded me up with my 2 front water bottles, with a third in the back of my pack for good measure, I bid them farewell, knowing the next few hours would be some lonely ones, a final push through to the finish.

Pushing on and getting passed by so many bikers now, but yet, somehow passing others. I’m not entirely certain how many are all out there, what distances they’re racing or when they started, but it’s good to see some other people once again. The course winds around some very beautiful terrain up and down some hills near quite a large lake, offering up some gorgeous views. It had been a while since I’d seen Chris, I was a little ahead of him at this point, but when I came out into a clearing where there was a makeshift volunteer aid station setup and someone told me I was the third runner through, I thought certainly that can’t be. There had to have been other runners ahead that just went through that area before they were setup, I couldn’t be in third.

Pressing on into the early afternoon, the temperature seemed to be climbing a bit and the sun was making a welcomed appearance. However, with the added heat, I was becoming quite aware of just how little water I had with me and made a mental note to ration it out as best as possible, it still needed to last a few hours after all. It was somewhere around this point my watched ticked over the 100 mile mark, holy shit!

After what seemed like hiking for hours of single track, the trail finally came out to a rough logging road, but one that was finally a little runnable, and sensing that I could make some better time, I pushed the pace and started back on a jog, even on the uphill’s, as long as the footing stayed smooth. To my surprise, I saw a runner ahead, Joe, with whom I’d been playing leapfrog with a few times. He was walking the flat section, and we offered each other good luck tidings as I passed. Joe mentioned that he thought I was now in second place, what the hell, that couldn’t be correct. Nevertheless, I pushed on, running as much of this flat terrain as I could.

The smooth trail didn’t last too long though, back into single track and climbs. The bikers were forced to push their bikes up time and time again, some were even walking down this short steep hills now too. This really was a wicked route through the woods. Checking my watch, now more for the time of day rather than the distance, I watched 4 PM slide by, and with it the buckle. Even though I had long ago given up the possibility of obtaining it, it was still a sad little milestone. I did however find another checkpoint, containing the “Limits” token. Guessing there’d be just one more of those to go, right before the finish line. I started asking some of the bikers how far we still needed to go, and couldn’t get a straight answer from anyone, apparently all the GPS devices were recording differently in the woods and amongst the countless switchbacks. Oh well, keep pushing forward.

From an old growth wooded section to a clear-cut power line with some more steep hikes, I continued to check the course behind me, certain someone would be coming up to pass me soon. I continued to just see biker after biker, and then Joe, a little way back yet, impossible to tell how far given the nature of the course. I put my head down and motored on. 2, 3, 4 miles to go, I had no clue, all I knew at this point, was my left ankle was starting to feel a lot like my right. Just keep pushing.

Then suddenly, the woods gave way to a road, pavement once again. And people, we were close now, I knew this section from the map, one final climb and then off to the finish line, less than a mile away! Ever fearful of someone coming up behind me, I started running again, well, until the road got too steep that is. Back on to a short trail, one final push up the hill, and one final checkpoint, with the “Finisher” token in the pumpkin bucket. Elated, I hurried back down the hill, dodging to the side as the bikers flew by me. Back on to asphalt then off to a gravel road, a straight shot into the finish.

My crew was beside me now, they too were telling me I was in second place! That just couldn’t be! I checked my watch, just over 6 PM, 30 hours since I started this journey. I pushed on, ecstatic I was able to run this last section, and at a halfway decent pace. I passed off my poles and took the previously gained tokens back from the crew who’d been holding them for safe keeping and closed the distance to the finish line. The cheering was overwhelming, and from so few people, how could they possibly be this loud? Overwhelmed with joy I crossed the line at 30 hours 4 minutes and 31 seconds. My first hundred-mile run, and I had finished in second. I was stunned.

While a belt buckle wasn’t earned by any runner this year, 18 of those brave souls who started ended up finishing, leaving 23 who did not. That 60% DNF rate was 20% better than the historical average. Chris ended up coming in an hour or so after I did and Ellen a couple of hours after that, completing her #UnfinishedBusiness from the year prior. Unfortunately, Chad didn’t make it, having gotten off course on the moved signage section, he would have needed to add 16 miles to his run to get back on course and retrace his route from there.

We stayed at the finish line, celebrating with beer and cheese covered potatoes, cheering all of the 50-mile bikers, and then the first of the 100-mile bikers, about 8 of which did earn themselves buckles. But as night drew in, we opted to head home, instead of spending another night away from our families. So, now going into roughly 58 hours on 1-2 hours of sleep, the crew packed up the truck and we were on the way home. It would be good to get back to my bed and my family, and I’m sure my crew felt the same way. This had been an amazing UP adventure, one I’ll certainly never forget.

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Strava Recorded Run Details