Midwest States 100k

Midwest States 100K was beautiful and brutal. Well, it was beautiful when I could look up.

 

Back in January when we were planning this crazy year ahead, Brian Frain told Brian Pope and I that we needed a big midsummer race leading up to Mines of Spain 100. We threw around a few ideas and landed on Midwest States 100K. We did not know what we had signed up for.

We drove up to Westboro, Wisconsin on Friday. Actually, I sat shotgun the whole way up because somebody wouldn't teach me how to drive stick. 🙄We stopped a few times along the way, tried Nicaraguan food for lunch, grabbed a kick ass energy drink at a road side stand. We got to packet pick-up and then realized we had forgotten to download maps for the area (zero cell service). We eventually found the cabin I was staying at with Holly, Heidi, and Heather Lindroth and got ready to go for a shakeout run. That's when Brian realized he left his pack at home. Luckily, Walmart wasn't too far away and they had some Nathan's in stock. After our shakeout, he went to go deal with his fuck up and I got to hang with the sisters for dinner and star gazing under a full moon. 

Bright and early on Saturday, Holly drove me to the start/finish to see me off. I rushed to get to the group picture after standing in the longest ultra porta potty line ever and when I couldn't squeeze in I just ended up laying on the ground in the front. Can't wait to see how that turned out! Next thing I know, we're off and running to our day of adventure.

Well, we ran for about 50 meters until we hit the standing still conga line at the first set of stairs. We stayed in that line for the first couple of miles. Any decent movement was slowed repeatedly by the terrain. Large rocks and roots with punchy short climbs appeared to be what was on the menu for the day. Eventually the long line broke up into small groups and we could actually trot when the trail allowed. We busted out a couple quick miles before and after the first aid station about 10k in.

Around 10 miles in I had my first bonk. Bonk early and bonk often I always say! I was following Pope and he hikes fast, even up hill. My temperature was climbing with my heart rate and I needed to slow down a bit. He let me take over lead and I started to feel better, even overtaking a couple more groups before the next aid station. It started to spit some rain at us here and there as we continued south. I stayed hot, but I was drinking and eating well. When we got to the 20 mile aid station, around 6 hours in, I could feel a blister starting. I popped and lubed the little guy before continuing on. The rain had started to come down in earnest and the trails were getting mucky and the bridges were getting slick. This started to slow us down as much as the terrain. Brian took a bit of a fall in the mud, but luckily it was a slide down and he didn't hit anything hard. We were also seeing a lot of the same people leap frogging back and forth down the trail.

The course is an out and back with a lollipop at the end. We only saw a few people pass us on their way back north before we got onto the loop just past mile 28. Holly had warned me two things about the loop. One was that by the time she got there, she didn't really want to run it even though it was runnable. Two was that the mileage was off here. Both of these things held true. We kept looking forward to the ATV part of the loop. We got there and it was gravel and giant puddles. We could trot here and there but running just really wasn't in us. We had put on some music though and it was helping us march a decent pace. There were at least a couple of extra miles added on to the course already and we added on a couple more. By the time we got back to the aid station at the beginning of the loop we were excited to be on what we thought was the final stretch of our journey.

 

Darkness descended as we made our way back to the 20 mile aid station where my headlamp was. I had a small one in my pack but the strap was fucked up and I had to carry it. By this time Brian had ditched the fanny pack part of his Walmart special ultrarunning gear and I we kept having to stop to help get shit out of each other's packs. It was quite dark by the time we reached the aid station and our feet were a mess so we did sock and shoe changes, ate food, got my lamps, and kept pushing. I also popped some ibuprofen and Zofran and drank some rocket fuel (Kirkland's cold brew) to propel me north. My stomach had been unhappy for a while and the motion sickness from running in the dark was kicking in. Trail math was no longer worthwhile with the mileage being so off. I was eating more mints than food, but still hydrating and taking electrolytes well. Constant pee breaks were adding to the slow down. The next aid station was peak aid station with slushies (fed to me out of an umbrella straw by what could have been a cabana boy while I messed with my pack) and all the other great aid station fair. I was able to nibble down a third of a cheeseburger patty. A short while after leaving this aid station a 100 miler headed back south told us we had about 11 miles left. Then my lamp died. For the first time. If I had been smart, I would have plugged this one in immediately but I didn't think about it for a while. But it's a good thing I did because my back-up died too. We continued marching up the trail to beats. I would pause the music as we approached people and a few times people asked me to turn it back on and we would make trail friends along the way. I even got to see a giant porcupine waddle into the woods!  My feet hurt. My shoulders hurt. I was nauseated. We were two very grumpy Gusses. But eventually, just before 4 am, we finally made it to the finish and were handed some very pretty pieces of hardware.

I don't think I could have pushed through this race on my own. It was way too gnarly and slow moving. We saw lots of people trudging along alone through the woods, especially during those last few hours. I am so grateful that I had Brian out there to push me when I needed it and make sure I didn't get eaten by a bear. Or stuck in the mud. Or whatever other godforsaken thing happens to people out in the middle of nowhere with no cell service.