“Water draws the only straight lines in nature. It is in curvatures, however - in movement - that its true character comes most clear; where a velvety layer of limid water spills over granite ledge, for instance, defining liquidity. This should not surprise us. The earth is beautiful because of water.”
John Jerome - Blue Rooms (1997-Henry Holt and Company, New York)
In this blog entry I’ve documented three different outings I was fortunate to have had on some of our area rivers in the last week and a half. The first outing was with my family on rippling Turtle Creek. The second involved a friend and his son, together with my son Todd and I, on the snaking Sugar River. The third trip brought area teachers and members of the “Gulo Adventure Clan” onto the steady Rock River.
Pictures & videos follow each entry.
On Saturday, July 2nd my family loaded up the old Dodge Ram that Todd has been borrowing from Grandpa Firman this summer. It’s a perfect vehicle to throw our old canoe and two kayaks into, strap them down, and drive the back roads to the “put in” spot.
On this day we traveled up to Shopiere, Wisconsin and Sweet Allyn Park. We unloaded our gear, and then Todd and I took the truck to our drop off point at the “Town of Turtle Canoe Launch” off South Creek Road. Afterwards we traveled back in our old Jeep to meet the girls. It was also the maiden voyage for our dog Kora. All week I had been getting her used to the canoe in our back yard; having her getting in and out and rocking it around while she was sitting in it.
She enjoys water, so we decided to have her be a part of our adventure. The day was perfectly cool early on and then warmed up as the day progressed. This typically is a fairly quick run, although the water was low due to the lack of rain recently; so for that reason we were a bit slowed when we scraped bottom and had to get out and pull our vessels over the gravel bars. That led to some consternation, but the struggle also allowed us to get out and play in the water from time to time. Kora ran in the shallows, and probably could have done that all day. I love this little creek, as it’s shallow in most spots, has a gravel bottom in this section, and has clear water so you can see fish and other fun critters under the surface. At one of our stopping points we were fortunate to see two red-tailed hawks sitting in a tree beside the creek. The way they were calling, and since they were not spooked by our presence, it led me to believe that one of their young (called an “eyas”) was up in the foliage, undetected. Once we were out, a bit difficult with the bank you have to get up, we all loaded back into the truck, drove back over to Shopiere to pick up the Jeep, and then made our way home.
Jodi, Kora and Todd-Sweet Allyn Park-Shopiere, Wis.
Cindy and Kora
Red Tailed Hawks - Do you see the 2nd one?
The Family on Turtle Creek
On Saturday, July 9th our friends, Mark and Garret, drove to our house by 7:30 am and helped Todd and I load the gear that we had stacked and ready to go, into the truck and Jeep. This time we headed westward out to the Sugar River. We dropped our equipment off, completed the vehicle drop-off, returned to the boys, and then began paddling downstream a little after 9:00. Mark and I manned the canoe, as it was loaded with an arm full of firewood, and a tub of our food and cookware. The boys had the kayaks. Mark and I have gone out on outings with the boys before (See “Men Of The Hood”), and so with Garret college bound this fall as well, this was a chance to continue our friendships with a summertime adventure. We talked, laughed, found a sandbar to cook breakfast on, stopped to swim and cannonball off the bank into some relatively deep water (if you ran hard and jumped far enough), and had a race down the last stretch to the takeout spot. We arrived only slightly out of breath. They say, “To the victor goes the spoils,” and perhaps it does. Our spoils were already cashed in, however, after a great meal, beautiful scenery, a hot sun over cool water, and playing in the water; before we had a picture taken and packed everything back into the old Dodge Ram. We picked up the Jeep, and through tired eyes, headed back home.
Breakfast on a Sandbar of the Sugar River
Mike, Todd, Garret and Mark at the "Take Out"
Yesterday, on Monday, July 11th, after having left the canoe and kayaks in the back of the truck after Saturday’s outing, I met a group of the “Gulo Adventure Clan” at 7:00 on the Rock River in Roscoe. We planned a Riverside (Park) to Riverside (Bridge) extravaganza. The group is made up of guys tied in one way or another, either past or present, to the Prairie Hill School District (Prairie Hill & Willowbrook Middle School). My friend Louie and I started the madness eight years ago, with an “End Of The School Year Adventure.” Although Louie teaches at Roscoe, we had coached boys basketball together at Prairie Hill for 9 years, and had grown into good friends through the process. After 5 years of enduring everything from kayak trips, to long distance hiking and biking, we opened it up to some other friends, and then eventually to all of the guys at school. It’s always an open invitation, so that without pressure men can join us if they want to, based on their schedules and the activity we have planned. Yesterday our group consisted of Louie, Justin, Tyler, and two new inductees: Doug, and Greg who was five years out of retirement. This was a different kind of paddling than my first two trips; the Rock River is wide and sweeping. It was early enough though, that we paddled with virtually no other boat traffic, and if you hugged the inside of the bends that turned to the left (as we headed south) you could take advantage of the shade from the trees that provided relief from the hot sun bearing down on us. The wind was also out of the south, so we paddled into that head-wind most of the morning. Greg and I paddled the “Party Barge” canoe while the others took to the kayaks. We stopped at Atwood Forest Preserve at a perfect time for a break, and quickly cooked up the infamous breakfast over a wood fire on one of their massive grills next to the picnic shelter. It was the inaugural usage (out-of-doors) of my new fifteen inch iron skillet. The sucker weighs 12 pounds, and is not for the faint of heart. I figure that on these water outings it could do as an anchor in a pinch! The rest of the guys talked and tossed around a football while I made the fire, added the ingredients, and cooked. After presenting the newbees with their official membership cards (thanks for starting the applause Justin), we ate in the shade, under the roof of the shelter, for a break from the sun. After cleaning up and hitting the water again, we made one more stop alongside the Forest Preserve Headquarters. We were hot, and needed to cool off, so we pulled up on a sandy shore and dove in for a few minutes. Nothing is quite like your first swim in the Rock. It really was refreshing, and had we not had to finish off the trip, I think Greg would have reverted to his high school days of distance swimming and gone all the way across the river. We continued on and arrived at a little marina, near Riverside Boulevard in Rockford, after about three total hours of paddling; four and a half hours with the stops. The crowning moment was when we then pulled the kayaks out and loaded them onto Louie’s pontoon boat and tied the canoe on behind. As he said, “This is the first time we’ve gone down and have come back, all on the river.” It was a great ride back up the river to Riverside Park. That aspect of the adventure took about an hour and a half, but it gave us the opportunity to continue the conversations, and enjoy the homes and views along the banks. You can never have too much time on a river.
See you along The Way...
Doug, Mike, Louie, Tyler, Justin and Greg at the "Put In"
A twelve pound skillet with a Million Dollar Meal
View of the Flotilla from the "Party Barge" Canoe
A quick stop for a swim break
End of an Adventure - The trip back up River
“I find myself thinking that we’ve finally succeeded in getting away from the world, and then realize I’ve got it backward. The world - the phenomenal world, unmediated - is just what we’ve found our way into.” John Jerome - Blue Rooms (1997-Henry Holt and Company, New York)
Two hundred and forty
years ago a new nation was founded; the United State of America. Many years have gone by since the Congressional
delegates from the thirteen original colonies debated and amended “The Declaration
of Independence;” and although we live in a new era, it is sometime interesting
to note that the words and wisdom of the past can apply to our present
world. Below I have rewritten excerpts of
various speeches from two of my favorite presidents of yesteryear; Abraham
Lincoln and Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
Their words, written for events taking place during their terms, still
ring true today. The excerpts were taken
from a book entitled, By These Words by Paul M. Angel (1954, Rand
McNally & Co.-New York)
------------------------
Lincoln:
Mike and Jodi at Lincoln's Tomb - 2013
*An excerpt from Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address - November 19, 1863
But,
in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate – we cannot consecrate – we cannot hallow
– this ground. The brave men, living and
dead, who struggle here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add
or detract. The world will little note,
nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did
here. It is for us the living, rather,
to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have
thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather
for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from
these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave
the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that these dead
shall not have died in vain – that this nation, under God, shall have a new
birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the
people, shall not perish from the earth.
-----
The 1865 Inaugural Address-Click to enlarge and see Abe
*The end of Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address – March 4, 1865
With
malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God
gives us the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up
the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for
his widow, and his orphan – to do all which may achieve and cherish a just, and
a lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.
------------------------
Roosevelt:
FDR's Four Freedoms Speech - 1941
*Excerpts from Franklin D. Roosevelt’s message to Congress – January 6,
1941
(Eleven months before Japan bombed
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii)
In
times like these it is immature – and incidentally, untrue – for anybody to
brag that an unprepared America, singlehanded, and with one hand tied behind
its back, can hold off the whole world.
No
realistic American can expect from a dictator’s peace international generosity,
or return of true independence, or world disarmament, or freedom of expression,
or freedom of religion – or even good business.
Such
a peace would bring no security for us or our neighbors. “Those, who would give up essential liberty
to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
As
a nation, we may take pride in the fact that we are softhearted; but we cannot
afford to be softheaded.
We
must always be wary of those who with sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal
preach the “ism” of appeasement.
We
must especially beware of that small group of selfish men who would clip the
wings of the American eagle in order to feather their own nests.
-----
In
the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world
founded upon four essential human freedoms.
The
first is freedom of speech and expression – everywhere in the world.
The
second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way – everywhere in
the world.
The
third is freedom from want – which, translated into world terms, means economic
understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for
its inhabitants – everywhere in the world.
The
fourth is freedom from fear – which, translated into world terms, means a
world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough
fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical
aggression against any neighbor – anywhere in the world.
-----
This
nation has placed its destiny in the hands and heads and hearts of its millions
of free men and women; and its faith in freedom under the guidance of God. Freedom means the supremacy of human rights
everywhere. Our support goes to those
who struggle to gain those rights or keep them.
Our strength is our unity of purpose.
To
that high concept there can be no end save victory.
-----------------------
“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and
where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is Freedom.” (2 Corinthians 3:17)
This
past Monday was what is commonly referred to as the summer solstice. Upon looking at various Google sites, I found
that the Latin word for this is solstitium.
“Sol” means the sun, and “Stitium” means to stop. It makes sense. It is on this particular day that the sun
ceases to arc into the northern sky as it rises in the east and sets into the
west. By being in this most northerly arc,
based on our Earth’s revolution around the sun, it creates the longest day of
the year. It is opposite of the winter
solstice, and the shortest day of the year that I wrote about in December
(click here for the link to that entry: Winter Solstice). So, from this day forth, until the end of this
year, the days will now grow shorter as the rising and setting of the sun sinks
towards the southern horizon. This
solstice coincided with a full moon, something that had not happened for
seventy-some years. This month’s moon is
known as the strawberry moon, and coupled together with there being the most
amount of sunlight; it made a perfect recipe for a day-long adventure. I decided to go trout fishing on a favorite
creek two hours north, in the middle of Wisconsin.
After
Cindy and I celebrated a fine Father’s Day with our parents and family, I began
to prepare and pack. I finished early
enough that I was able to get to bed at a reasonable hour; at least it was
reasonable compared to past standards. After
sleeping for about four hours, I started to stir. I tried to lay back down, but inside I knew
it was a done deal; it was time to rise and head to the North. I got up, dressed, and packed my cooler with
food that I had gotten ready beforehand.
I was out the door by 3:15 and only stopped once to fill up with gas in
Janesville (it was cheaper there by six cents a gallon). Passing Camping World northwest of Madison,
around 4:20, I saw their huge American flag.
I wondered how much that thing weighed.
I wondered if there are bigger sized flags than that one. It certainly is patriotic, and in lieu of
some of the things going on in today’s world, I like it. I’d like to think that I recognize it for all
it stands for and represents (usflag.org).
Heading North into the Light
I
continued north and arrived in the gravel parking lot by 5:23. I was pretty sure I would have the area to
myself, and I did. I got my supplies
laid out, got into my waders and boots, and began the hike soon after. I did stop before plunging into the brush, to
apply a coating of bug spray high in DEET.
I always hate to put bug spray on, and have been known to endure (bug
spray-free) some pretty crazy situations, where the mosquitoes and deerflies
would drive most people mad, but until the wind picked up a bit I decided to be
proactive. I chose an entry point just
beyond where I’ve gotten in before; expecting that over the course of the next
few hours I would work my way upstream and back to my Jeep. I was in the water and making my first cast
by 6:15. The sun was just cresting the
tree tops, but shadows remained on the bends.
Deep,
dark bends exist in this section.
Although the water was cloudy for some reason, with patience and stamina
I made it through, and back to the bridge near where I had parked. I didn’t catch or see anything huge. I have fished a lot of little creeks and have
been surprised by the size of the fish that have come from them. For that reason I’ve convinced myself that
big trout exist in this creek, because there is a lot more water
available. What I caught were nine brown
trout. Their sizes were: 9, 14, 6, 7, 10,
11, 9, 7, and 11 inches. Nine fish for
about six hours of fishing. It was not
great, but enough to keep me going; there was always hope up around the bend. I kept the 14 inch brown and released the
rest. I was pretty whipped when I crawled
out of the water, but after eating my lunch (sandwich, yogurt, and a chunk of cheese),
and resting a bit by sitting on the back of my Jeep in the shade, I recovered
enough to have another go at it.
A Fourteen Inch Brown Trout
With
my waders still on, but pushed down to my feet, I decided to drive a few miles
northwest to a narrower, headwater section of the same creek. It was midday now, and I thought that with
the clear, sunny skies, I might have better luck in this more wooded, enclosed,
and shady section. I fished for three
more hours; rumbling, tumbling, stumbling, and bumbling in a tangle of brush. I managed three more fish; two nine inch and
an eleven inch brown trout. I released
them all. It was a lot of work and my
patience was growing thin as my fuel tank neared empty.
Coming
back through the woods to where my Jeep was parked took the last of what I
had. I took my waders off, put my stuff
away, and ate what I had brought for a dinner (brat, apple sauce, and
crackers). I then drove back to my
original spot where I had started the day, after checking out a few other spots
I may be able to fish in the future. I
needed a nap and so I parked in the gravel lot on the west side of the road. This way the towering white pines would
provide me with some shade. I rolled the
windows down, propped open the rear hatch of my Jeep, laid my sleeping bag out
at an angle in the back, and proceeded to lay face down and fall asleep to the
sound of the breeze in the pine boughs.
It was the same breeze that had kept the bugs at bay all day. Later my wife asked me how I can sleep like
that when I’m out in an unknown area, and all by myself. I’ll admit that I’ve thought about that
before, but like the advice most parents give their kids who are afraid of
something, “They’re more afraid of you than you are of it.” I’m not sure how much that helps squelch a
child’s fear, but I guess I assume most people wouldn’t approach a Jeep parked
in a lot with the windows and backdoor open and bare feet sticking out of
it. I guess the site of what I must look
like to people who might nose around, helps ward off the riff-raff. Plus, I wake to most noises I hear. I’m usually so tired by that point, however, that
I really don’t give a rip if someone happens by; it’s exhaustion through
elation because I’ve had the chance to do what I love to do.
I
slept for an hour, and then groggily rose and started getting my gear together
for an evening outing. I texted my wife
to let her know what was going on, and that I was trying to muster the energy
to get back in the water one more time to fish the shadows of dusk. In doing so, I thought about having to drive
back in the dark verses arriving back at home as it became dark. I decided to call it a day. It was 6:30, so I’d been out for over twelve
hours that day; this longest day of the year.
I stopped for an ice cream cone before I got back on the highway, using
change from the center console of my Jeep.
I arrived home a little after 9:00.
I had started the day before the sun was up and finished after it had
gone down. It was a great day to
celebrate the stoppage of the sun in its most northerly path; the summer
solstice.
“The Old Walking Song” sang by Bilbo Baggins as he left the Shire
The Fellowship of the Ring – J.R.R. Tolkien
A
week ago right now I was feeling pretty good, and on the final push to finish
the “Ice Age Trail 50;” a fifty mile ultra marathon on the Ice Age Trail in
Wisconsin’s Southern Unit of the Kettle Moraine State Forest. The morning began at 4:00 a.m. when I got up
and went through my prerace ritual and preparation. The entire family of Cindy, Todd, Jodi, and I
left the hotel in the dark and were at the start for the race by a little after
5:00. The lot was filling steadily as
runners and their crews began filing in; just north of the corners known as La
Grange. I had picked up my registration
packet the night before, complete with a long sleeve shirt, race number, and
timing chip. Since it was my first
ultra, I had splurged and also bought a new hat with the race logo on it. The hat only cost $10 and I figured it could
become my new trout fishing hat, as my old Primo’s hat slowly disintegrates.
In
temperatures somewhere in the mid to upper 30’s, I got out and surveyed the
starting area.I used the bathroom and
then came back where the rest of the family was waiting in the Jeep trying to
stay warm.We laughed, and joked, and
although I was amped, I felt as though I was about as relaxed as I could
get.When I headed back out a second
time, I put the bags I had prepared the night before onto the tarps labeled for
drops #2 & #3.These were set
stations where they would take our bags to have ready should I need their
contents.I had filled mine with items
such as energy gel packs, a baggie filled with my homemade energy bars, and
band aids (to cover possible blisters).In addition, I threw extra socks and my newer shoes in the #2 bag.In bag #3 I added as extra shirt and
shorts.As it turned out, I only used
two items from these two bags as the aid/fuel stations they provided were
fantastic; but it was nice to know I had back-up just in case.
I didn’t prepare anything for drop site #1
because this location was at the start, after a nine mile loop, and I was going
to see my family there anyways.After
putting my bags down, I recognized and talked to someone I knew who happened to
be running the race also, and then came back to where my family was waiting at
the head of the parking lot.From the
comforts of the Jeep we watched the comings and goings of other runners as they
prepared with nervous energy.Finally,
on my last outing, I got out and stretched, used the bathroom one more time, met my family, and made my
way to the start.Runners gathered as
the race director talked from the top of a ladder.Someone who was on their way to work that
morning sang the National Anthem, strong and beautifully; so much so that the
vocal chords alone could have carried you over the first five miles.The time was 6:00 a.m. and it was time to
begin.
These
are the things I remember. These are the
things I can put into words. The next
eleven hours are a slight blur, and hard to describe. How can I give the race it’s just due? How can I pay respect to something you almost
need to experience to understand?
Suddenly
the race was on as I began a surreal journey.
I had decided to bring my phone so I could document portions of the run
and try to capture snippets of the day.
I began by taking a video while running under the start banner. At the same time I was trying to start my
watch. The first nine mile loop we ran
clockwise on the cross country ski trail.
It’s a bit wider of a trail and the land was beautiful with continuous
hills and vistas. I eventually hooked up
with a guy named Dan Haight from the Cincinnati area. We talked and visited as we ran the 2nd
half of that loop. He had run a few of
these types of races before and does triathlons as well. At one point some sun screen I was carrying,
worked its way up and popped out of the back of my pack. I wouldn’t need it on this day, but a lady ran
it up to me none-the-less.
After
looping back to the original start, Dan and I said good-bye and parted
ways. I decided to peel some layers now
that I was warmed up. I took my shoes
off and removed my running tights. I
kept on my calf sleeves as I retied my shoes.
I also removed one of my long sleeve shirts. The articles that I removed, I gave to my
family. At the same time Dan Sears, a
friend from church who was running the 50K that was soon to start, said I was
doing great and that his son Tyler was just ahead of me. I said my good-byes and took off again. There was something much more relaxing about
this process. There was still a feeling
of needing to move along, but I didn’t feel frantic. I
ran on for roughly another mile and a half until I arrived at “Confusion
Corner.” I turned left and made my way
down and onto the Ice Age Trail; a single track path, winding gradually to the
southwest. As I passed through the
groves of white and red pines I filmed myself again; so far, so good.
I eventually caught up to Tyler and we talked
for a while before I moved on. He was
nursing an IT band along as he recovers from a different 50 mile run that he
had completed a few weeks ago; all in preparation for a 100 mile race in the
fall with his Dad.
My
family met me at the next station/road crossing near mile 13. I waved, talked briefly, grabbed some food,
and had the workers add some water and HEED to my bottle (I always mixed it ½
and ½ when I needed it refilled). The
foods I tended to grab probably sound slightly bizarre as I list them
separately, but it’s what I craved. I
usually ate a few chocolate chip cookies, maybe an Oreo, one or two squares of
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (cut into quarters just like Mom did back in
the day). For salt I always had a dill
pickle (I loved those!), and a handful of pretzels on my way out.
Soon
after that I caught up and talked to Jason whom I knew and had talked to just
before the start. I moved ahead after a
few miles and ran with a group along the ridge above Lake La Grange. Two people were in a canoe fishing the
shoreline. It looked peaceful and I
could only hope they were catching something, for although I was comfortable,
they had to be chilled. It was there,
around the fifteen mile mark, that the lead guy went zipping by us like a deer;
having already reached the end of this section and turned around. It was pretty incredible. Most of us ran the straight-a-ways and downhills
while walking the uphills; he wasn’t. It
was about 2 hours and 45 minutes into the race and he was already at about the
27 or 28 mile mark! Unlike a road
marathon, the terrain was crazy cool, and full of roots, rocks, and ruts; plus
he had to dodge all of us. I will say
that almost everyone was cordial and we’d have a quick word of encouragement
for each other as we passed other runners.
At this same point the inside of my left knee began to hurt. I tried stretching out my left leg when I
took a break, and pulled my calf sleeve up as far as I could to try to support
it. I began running in front of a guy
who lived near Milwaukee and worked at a recycling company south of the city. I told him about our environmental club at
school and some of the things we’ve done.
Unfortunately I didn’t get his name, and I don’t think I’d recognize him
as I only caught glimpses of him while he was behind me. Our conversation helped distract me from my knee
however.
I
passed the drop bag site#2 at aid station #5.
I was 17 miles in and doing ok.
My family was back at the hotel getting breakfast at this point, but
would rejoin me at this station when I returned.
My Beloved Crew
I grabbed some food and continued on. I believe I had one of my energy bars and a
Hammer gel through this stretch. I also
referred to my bib several different times.
I had my two preset mantras written on it; plus a third I had added from
my friend Scott Rogers (with an adverb as to how I would meet that
struggle). I also added the verses from
Isaiah 40:29-31. It was perfect. I had written it upside down so all I had to
do was flip it up to read it right side up.
Those words kept me going through that next stretch until the turn
around; that and the occasional texts that came through. I never responded to them, but I’d read them
when I could; when I was walking the hills and not as likely to trip, stumble,
or fall. Just before the turnaround I
saw Dan, who I had run with on the first loop, and gave him a shout out. At the turn around itself (a little after
10:00 a.m.), I grabbed some food and sent a text to Cindy to let her know where
I was. At the same time she told me they
were waiting for me back at aid station#5 on Highway#12 where my drop bag
was. I was struggling a little still,
anticipating my knee continuing to be sore.
A guy was dressed in an overcoat and a squid hat with a fake beard and
mustache; yelling at us from up in a tree.
It was pretty funny and I laughed before continuing on.
At The Rice Lake Turnaround
Along this return route I could see the
people behind me, and so I focused on encouraging them. I also made the decision to change out my
socks and shoes when I got to the 26 mile mark and the station where my family
was. It spurred me on. My newer shoes were the exact same make, and model,
and colors. The silver and blue Brooks
Ghost (8th edition) from the good ole Runner’s Image store in
Rockford. I really like the shoe. I only had about 14 miles on the newer ones,
plus one day of teaching on my hard-tiled science room floor. They were broke in. I likened it in my mind to Jesus changing water
into wine. In John 2, after Jesus did
this miracle, the master of the wedding said to the bridegroom that at most
banquets they start with the choice wine first, and then bring out the cheaper
wine later. But he saved the best until
last. I don’t drink alcohol or wine
myself, but I was looking forward to finishing in my “choice shoes,” and see if
that would help.
The
sun was out a bit, and the temperatures edged up into the 40’s as I came out to
Highway#12.
I waited with the volunteers
for the traffic to clear and made my way over to my family. I grabbed my drop bag, took my shoes and
socks off, put on some fresh Vaseline between my toes and then put on my newer
socks and shoes. It made all of the
difference.
I felt better right away, and ran great on my way back to Confusion Corner. I also got some Ibuprofen from a girl I
happened to pass. I decided to take it
and see if that would help too. I loved
the views on the ridge above Lake LaGrange again, and while running by myself I
sent a few videos to some guys I went to college with, some guys I’ve run with
on Sundays, and one to my friend and roommate from college, Tim Johnson.
It’s a surreal feeling
when you reach these higher miles, as they kind of melt away one after the
other. Although not perfect, it was a
utopia, like living through a vision quest on my feet. I tried focusing on the pathway, the journey,
the scenery, and my motivation written on the back of my bib number. I believe it was in this section that I ran
in front of a girl from the Duluth area.
I joked that if this race was up where she lived, we could ice afterwards in
sacred Lake Superior. We ran and talked
together a little for a couple of miles.
I wouldn’t recognize her though, as I never really saw her. It’s funny how you can share time together
and then move on. Eventually I did move
ahead and she disappeared. I was by
myself again for a while. It was at
these times that I prayed my way through my family and friends; naming each one
individually with specific requests. My
focus would go in and out, but the miles marched onward as I progressed through
those I knew.
I saw my family off
Bluff Rd at about mile #31 or #32. Once
I again crossed Confusion Corner, I ran and eased my way around the side of a
hill before walking up “Bald Bluff.”
That was a crazy hill but it offered a great view. My hamstrings felt a little quivery after
that climb, and the couple of inclines after that. I needed those muscles to stay with me a
little longer. Unbeknownst to me, the
lead guy was finishing at about that same time.
I had just missed seeing him before he turned off this new section I was
on that was heading to the northeast. I
started slowing down in this section of mileage in the mid to late 30’s. My right knee started bothering me as well,
in the same spot it had on my left knee earlier in the morning. I stopped and stretched my legs a little.
I needed to get to aid station #10 and the
turnaround at the Emma Carlin Trailhead.
The skies occasionally spit bb’s of ice pellets as I pressed on. At the Horserider’s Camp (aid station#9 and
mile#37) I sent a text to Cindy and said I was struggling and perhaps needed
some more Ibuprofen or something like that for my knee. They said they were waiting for me. I saw Dan from Cincy as he was heading back
to the finish, and so I called out his name again as we ran by each other. About a half mile from the turnaround I
tripped and almost fell on some gravel.
I grabbed my left hamstring to keep it from cramping, because it felt
like it almost did from the sudden jump to keep my balance. As I neared the turnaround station, the music
they were jamming drew me in. These
people were pumped and I needed that!
As
I came near, my family came into focus; Todd, Jodi, and Cindy. But wait, there was more! Two of my cousins, Brad and Sean, were
standing there grinning too. I could
hardly wrap my brain around the picture I was seeing. I was trying to keep my emotions together as
I still had 10 more miles to run.
I gave
hugs all around, took my Ibuprofen, we posed for pictures, and then I grabbed
some food. At a few of the stops I had
ginger ale. I usually don’t drink pop,
but that seemed to hit the spot. I think
I had it 2 or 3 times, and one of those times may have been at that
station. My family and cousins all said
they would see me at the finish. I took
off feeling renewed, and refreshed like I was at the beginning of the race
again; with no pain in my right knee.
As I passed people
still running into the turnaround, I tried to encourage them and let them know
that the station they needed for energy was just up ahead. I took a few more videos and sent them out;
one to Scott Rogers, one to my teaching team, one to my parents , and one in
general as an encouragement to all who persevere in life; for in life, the
struggle in real. These videos took a
bit of time, but I just wanted to send a few out, and so I did.
With about 5 miles
left, two guys joined up behind me. I
was running fairly strong and consistent at that point. I was literally being drawn to the
finish. I could feel the pull and felt
good. They told me they would just follow
because I had a good pace going. We
walked the hills fairly quickly, and ran the flats and downhills strong;
clicking off one at a time. I stumbled
once more in this stretch, and almost kissed the rocks at my feet, but somehow
held on and grabbed my hamstring again to keep it together. I regained my wits and balance and we continued
talking as we ran. One of the two guys
was concerned about the mileage, and where he was at, because his watch was off
track. Mine had quit completely about 2
hours before that. The other guy and I
assured him that we still had some miles to go, but that we were close. We went up and over Bald Bluff with much less
fan-fair than what it took me to get over it the first time. I made one more video for my friend Tim with
about 3 miles to go, before coming down to Young Road at aid station#8. At that point the two guys I had been running
with said to go ahead, and that they were going to rest and fuel up a bit
longer. I told them I’d see them at the finish
and took off. I knew I was close to
finishing in eleven hours. If I could, I
wanted to try to be under that time.
This section was familiar to me because I had run it a few weeks before
on a practice run. I wanted to run the
hills now too, but still slowed enough to walk the bigger ones and take my
time. I reminded myself that I wanted to
finish. I stuck to the game plan. I passed some people walking who encouraged
me on.
As the finish neared, nobody else
was around me. I saw the crowd, my
family, the mats I needed to cross for my chip time (I almost stopped too
soon), and the finisher arch. I finished
in 10:58:29. They handed me my finisher’s
belt buckle and then I met my family.
My first thought was, “Wow,
I thought I’d be more emotional than this!”
I think some of the edge was taken off when my school had given me a
send off assembly two days prior to the race. The rest of my
emotions were left on the course itself and while seeing my family throughout
the race. That changed, however, when I
suddenly focused in and realized that my Mom and Dad were a part of the crowd
at the finish line. I lost it a bit at
that point. They had seen and been a
part of me accomplishing my goal.
Apparently when they got my video with about 6 miles left, they realized
they could get up to the race from their house before I finished. So they put our dogs (who they were watching
for us) into their kennel cage, and headed up to the Kettle Moraine.
We talked, and
celebrated, and took pictures. We
cheered on a few other finishers, including the two guys I had run with towards
the end. My parents then left. I got some food; a brat with sauerkraut, some
fruit and a scoop of some sort of casserole.
It all tasted delicious. My
cousins then left to head back home. I
was getting chilled, but we waited for a bit with Dan Sears to see his son
Tyler finish. While Cindy was cheering
me on at the 40 mile turnaround earlier, Tyler’s wife and family noticed her
wearing her classic Prairie Hill School jacket (from back in the day). It turned out that I had had Tyler’s wife in
class, and I remembered her family well; a small world indeed.
Out of 372 people who
started the 50 mile race, 296 finished.
I placed 186th, with a little over a 13 minute/mile
pace. Those are the stats, but more
importantly I enjoyed the adventure, I finished the goal and race, and I met
the struggle. I’d like to think I met
the struggle in a valiant way. As I said
in many of the video snippets I took along the raceway, the struggle was real
as life can be for anyone. My struggle
happened to be by choice, but it was a choice made after a lot of heartache,
and training (that I mentioned in my last blog-entry).
People have asked me to
describe the race, or have asked me how it went. Amazingly, some of the details only started
coming back to me as I wrote it out for this blog. I suppose in that way, the writing has been
therapeutic. I liken the decision
making, training, support from family and friends and the many volunteers,
along with the run itself, to something the American runner, Ryan Hall once
talked about in a video I can no longer find.
In it he mentioned this idea called, “Transcendental Performance.” It’s when you do something that enters a
spiritual realm. I like that phrase
because it helps make sense of what I experienced, witnessed, and accomplished. If I had to describe how I felt leading up to
the Ice Age Trail 50 I would say, excited, panic-stricken, painful, sore,
adventurous, emotional, strong, and satisfied.
I put my hope in the Lord, and he put people and experiences in my life
to spur me on. I ran, and although I was
tired, I did not grow weary and want to stop.
I walked but was not faint. He
gave me strength and power on this day to help me finish this section of the
race; this section of my life. If I had
to sum up the experience in one word, I would easily respond, “REDEMPTIVE!” Thank you all; thank you dear God.
See you along The Way…
A great song with great lyrics captures the feelings:
