If someone tells me a race is
really tough, my reaction is to dig a little deeper, do some research, and find
out just how tough it is. So when I
heard the Superior Sawtooth 100 (actually 102 miles) had a 38 hour cutoff and
average finishing time over 36 hours, I was very intrigued. I read race reports, looked at the elevation
profile, and studied everything I could about the Superior Hiking Trail. What I found out was that the race is indeed
difficult. It is also extremely
beautiful, run almost exclusively on singletrack trail that traverses the
Sawtooth mountain range along the North Shore of Lake Superior in northern
Minnesota. I also found that there is a
50K in the May that covers the last 15 miles (out and back) of the 100 mile
course. My good friend Vince moved to
Minneapolis a couple years ago, so I figured this would be a great chance to
visit him while scouting out the course.
Another motivation to do this race was that my running had been in a rut
lately, and I was coming of a really bad experience (from a personal racing
standpoint) a couple weeks prior. I
wanted badly to get out of the Texas heat and into the mountains. This was my chance.
I flew into Minneapolis and met
Vince and Jen for lunch before beginning the 4+ hour drive north to Lutsen,
where the 50K would start. The first 2
hours of the drive were uneventful, but the remaining section north of Duluth
would hug the coast of Lake Superior, offering stunning views of the vast
waters. Wanting to see as much of the
Superior Hiking Trail as possible, I stopped off at Gooseberry Falls (which
serves as the starting point for the 100 miler in September) for a run. It was after 4 in the afternoon, I was
operating on very little sleep, and I had flown for 3 hours and driven another
3. Needless to say, I was tired but
excited to be in the mountains. After a
few miles in which my legs felt sluggish, I began to experience the high that
only running on pristine singletrack in the mountains can provide. I meandered past numerous rivers and cascading
waterfalls, hopped over roots and rocks, and stopped to soak in the occasional
view of Lake Superior. The trail was
narrow and technical, both of which I enjoyed.
Wanting to get back in time to finish my drive before dark, I turned
around and ran nearly 7 miles back to Gooseberry Falls (14 miles in all), where
I hopped into my car and drove the remaining hour to Lutsen. My hotel was situated right on the shores of
Lake Superior, meaning the air was cool and crisp, much to my liking. After grabbing some food, I was off to bed
for a few hours of sleep.
I awoke early (4:45AM) to gather my
gear, drink my customary cup of coffee, and drive across the street to the ski
mountain where my race would at 7. Even
at this early hour, there was enough light to see without a headlamp. The forecast was calling for warm(er) temps
and a 70% chance of rain. At the moment
the skies were clear, and I hoped the rain would hold off for at least a few
hours (in fact it would remain beautiful all day). I checked in at the race start, grabbed my
packet, and headed back to the car to relax and take car of any last-minute
necessities. The guy who had parked next
to me was also a teacher, so we chatted about that as he told me how he hit a
huge deer on the drive up the night before (glad I had arrived before
dark). He has run the race several times
and was able to give me the skinny on what to expect. I laughed when he complained about the hot
weather they were having and expecting again for the race. He remarked how anything over 70 degrees was
hot for him, which gave me a good chuckle.
At 7AM sharp the race director sent 125 of us down the gravel road where
we would link up with the SHT for the next 14+ miles to the top of Carlton
Peak, turn around, and head back the same way we had come. I settled into a nice easy pace, my legs
being a little fatigued from the previous few days of working out and
running. We hadn’t been on the trail for
5 minutes when my foot caught a root and sent me stumbling. I tired to catch myself and stay upright, but
it was in vain as my knee crashed into a rock and my arms hit the ground. I was unhurt, save for a gash on my knee that
was already dripping blood, but the trail definitely had my attention. There were roots everywhere, and just enough
rocks to make you pay attention to every step.
This race was going to be as much of a mental battle as a physical
one. This section of the Sawtooth range
includes several small mountains that we would run up and over. None of the climbs or descents were
particularly long or steep, but they were constant and never-ending. Up and over one peak, then immediately up and
over another. The race boasts 4200’ of
ascent and another 4200’ of descent. We
wound our way through densely-wooded forests on narrow singletrack trails that
were littered with toe-grabbing roots.
There were some very runnable sections too, if you paid attention to
footing, and I was really enjoying myself.
Despite the temps being in the 50s at the start, I was soaked to the
bone from the humidity (at least I was accustomed to this already). My legs felt good, and my energy was great as
I nursed my Carbo Pro. Over 7 miles into
the race we came into the first aid station (Oberg Mountain), where I mixed
another bottle of Carbo Pro, grabbed a couple Twizzlers from the table, and
thanked the volunteers. The sky was
blue, my legs felt good, and I was having a blast.
(Typical Section of Roots)
(Climbing Up and Up)
The section from Oberg to the second
aid station at Sawbill was less technical than the first, but still had rolling
terrain. I ran way more than I would
have normally, as my legs felt good enough to run many of the slight uphills
and cruise the downhills. I enjoyed talking
to locals on the trail and meeting lots of new people. As much as I enjoy running races close to
home or with people I know, it is refreshing to be far away from the familiar,
in a place where no one knows who you are or anything about you. During this section we saw the race leaders
charging up a hill coming towards us, already on their way back. This meant they were nearly 10 miles ahead of
me and should finish in under 4 hours!
It was pretty amazing to watch them glide effortlessly up the hills. Based on my Garmin’s mileage, I figured I had
another mile before I hit Sawbill, so I was pleasantly surprised when I rounded
a corner and saw the aid station in front of me much sooner than expected. The volunteers filled my bottles and sent me
on my way quickly. 
(One Of Many Bridges Along the SHT)
(The Climb Up To Carlton Peak)
(Very Technical Near the Top)
(View From Carlton Peak)
(One of Many Rivers the SHT Crosses)
My stomach felt a little bloated as
I left, a feeling that I attributed to the water and carbonation from the
ginger ale since I had felt fine up to this point. No problem I told myself, I would hike for a
few minutes while things settled down and then start running again. After a few minutes I did just that, but I
quickly realized that my stomach wasn’t getting any better. I kept on going, hoping the feeling would
pass. I used to get sick in all of my
long races but hadn’t done so since I switched nutrition strategies (to Carbo
Pro) after Wasatch last September. Unfortunately,
I got that all-to-familiar feeling and soon was doubled over on the side of the
trail, emptying all the liquid (and calories) I had ingested earlier. I usually feel much better after throwing up and
hoped this would be the case now. The
problem with getting sick is that you lose much of the nutrition you have
worked so hard to keep up with, meaning you are immediately in a deficit. Nevertheless, I pushed on, jogging where I
could and trying to hike anything else.
I could feel my energy waning and had to stop and regroup on several occasions. I knew I need to take in calories, but Carbo
Pro just wasn’t sitting well, so I wolfed down a peanut butter GU, which seemed
to help a little bit. At last I was back
at the final aid station (Oberg Mountain), less than 8 miles from the
finish. If I could only take in enough
calories and water to get me to the finish feeling good…
After eating 2 pb&j squares, a
couple orange slices, a handful of gummy bears, and a cup of Coke (amazing what
things sounds good during a race), I trudged off down the trail, hoping the
energy that had left me would return for a final push. I hadn’t moved a mile when I felt that sickly
feeling yet again. This time was much
worse, and I spent several minutes littering the trail with aid station
goodies. Instantly I felt terrible. I had no energy, my heart was racing, and my
legs were shot. It was all I could do to
put one foot in front of the other. The
next 6 miles would take me over 2 hours to complete, as I found myself leaned
up against trees, stumbling around, and generally feeling crappy. After what seemed like an eternity, I hit the
gravel road and slowly jogged the road back to the lodge and finish line.
As bad as I felt those last 10
miles, I had a blast in the race. The
trail is remarkable in both its beauty and its difficulty. Now I know why the Superior Sawtooth 100 is
billed as one of the toughest in the country.
I can’t imagine trying to navigate over those roots at night when your
body and mind are tired. So of course it
is now on my list of must-do races, just not this year (I’m going back to
Wasatch in September with some specific time goals in mind).
After the race I drank 140 ounces
of liquids and still hadn’t peed, further evidence of the dehydration my
vomiting had caused. Instead of driving
the 4 hours back to Minneapolis as I planned, I stayed at the hotel an extra night
and relaxed. I was in no shape to drive
(I drove back on Sunday and spent the day touring the city with Vince and Jen),
so I sat in a chair on the shore of Lake Superior, sipping on a local brew and
listening to the waves crashing on the beach.
At that moment, life was perfect.
I’ll definitely be back at this race in the future.
(I Got This One Early In the Race)
(My Post Race Recovery Spot)
