race report

Mines of Spain 100M

Friday, October 15, 2021

Dubuque, IA

About The Race

Mines of Spain is a natural area just outside of Dubuque, IA situated on the Mississippi River. The area is named for the many pit mines where Natives and later European settlers mined for lead. Early settlers led by Julien Dubuque received a land grant in this area from the Governor of Spain. Thus, Mines of Spain. Remnants of these pit mines can still be found throughout the park. The park is also home to the Julien Dubuque monument, a castle-like turret, that overlooks the river and serves as Dubuque’s gravesite. The terrain in the park is composed of forest, meadows, and wetlands which traverse the bluffs and rolling hills iconic of the Driftless Region. This is coupled with several creeks which are known to flood.

I first came to the Mines of Spain in college. I attended University of Wisconsin - Platteville which is roughly 30 minutes away on the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River. I had scouted out Mines of Spain on Google Maps as a place to visit. Not many friends I talked to had visited or even heard of this area. So, not knowing what to expect, I set out one morning on a short day trip. I quickly fell in love with the hidden gem. The bluffs overlooking the river, city, and surrounding area offered breathtaking views. There are several interesting bridges and structures which captivated the engineer in me. Trails wind through the area and offer varied landscapes from forest to meadow to wetland. The Mighty Mississippi has a humbling quality. I would visit on several more occasions during my time in Platteville. I love the area so much that I have a canvas print of myself sitting in front of Cedar Chapel, located within the park, hanging in my apartment. After I left Platteville I would go on to ask other alumni whether they had ever visited the area and many had not. I couldn’t help but feel that this was a secret beauty that I had stumbled upon. So needless to say, when I found out that an ultra was held within the park, it made my list of must-run races.

The race is a composed of 20 mile “loops.” Each loop contains roughly 2800’ of elevation gain as runners start on a hill located just outside the park, drop down to the river, and climb the bluffs several times, and navigate the rolling terrain. I say “loops” because while each loop starts and finishes at the same location, the course is not so much circular as several out and back/two-way sections that reach from the heart of the park toward the outer limits. The Start/Finish aid station is located just outside of Mines of Spain at another park. Here runners will also find “Crew-Ville” a spot where crew is allowed to set up tents and a home base in order to help their runners. I would be amiss if I failed to also mention Sun Trail Running, the organization that organizes and directs the event. From the very beginning, the people associated with the race were nothing but kind, friendly, and supportive. They make donations to Mines of Spain in order to help fund park projects. This money is not just to ensure that we have a place to run, but also for the hikers, hunters, and the multitude of others who also use the area. This year they also organized an additional fundraiser. For participants who brought a pack of local craft beer, the race would donate an additional $20. I love this because it not only gives money to Mines of Spain but also gives business to the various local breweries in the communities that runners come from. Mile 90 Photography was also enlisted for race photographs and captured some special moments.

Prerace Prep

The weekend prior to the race I went back to DexaFit Madison. Earlier in the year, I had undergone some fitness testing. During this initial testing, I wasn’t training for a race or doing anything out of the ordinary. I was in a state of what I would consider to be average fitness for me. I was hoping to establish a “baseline”, to see what my body looked like under normal circumstances. I wanted the ability to see how my body changes as I enter and exit training blocks. With increased data points, I hope to use this to ensure that I am ready for big races in the future. Upon this visit I found that most metrics of my metrics had stayed fairly consistent between my baseline and now.

There were a few differences though. I lost nearly a pound of muscle mass in just my right leg. Most people have slight differences between both sides of their body, especially if they participate in something that exacerbates a difference, baseball pitchers tend to have more muscle mass in their throwing arm for example. Running though, tends to treat both sides of the body fairly equally, so why I would have lost muscle mass in just one leg while the other remained consistent is odd to me. Spending much more time running, I would have expected the muscle mass in my legs to increase if anything. I will be interested to look at this after my next scan to see if it returns to normal.

I also traded a little bit of muscle mass in my trunk for fat. This one doesn’t surprise me much. Undoubtedly spending most of my time focused on running would lead to some atrophy of muscle mass outside of my legs. I don’t do as much cross-training as I should, but any auxiliary work is all but eliminated to make time to log the miles I needed to prepare for this race. Likewise during the summer, because of work schedules, I eat out a few more meals than I would like to. Switching up my diet by adding in some foods that are less than desirable could easily explain a bit of increased fat.

The last notable difference was a decrease in my VO2 Max by 5 points. Again this came as no surprise. Yes, I had been running much more preparing for this race than I had been during my baseline, but the running was different. It is commonly accepted that the best way to increase VO2 Max is by mixing in short intense bursts, think sprints or HIIT. While training, I was focused on long, easy-paced runs. Dropping the intensity could easily explain a drop in VO2 Max.

I don’t have enough data points to establish trends yet, so I am not going to put too much credence on the results as they relate to my readiness for the race. However, it was interesting to see how my body responded.

Crew

This race contained several new experiences for me, the first of which is that I would be having a crew. Thus far, I have run all my races uncrewed. I have never felt the need for help during a race. Usually, I am able to navigate just fine with aid stations and drop bags. I have had family and friends at races before, but I had never relied on them for support. However, this was an undertaking much larger than any I had attempted before, so I enlisted help. My girlfriend Emma had taken on the task of being my sole crew and support person. We set up a tent in the Crew-Ville area where I would meet her after every loop. There we had staged various food and fuel items, water and electrolytes, changes of clothes and shoes, and various other items that I thought might come in handy. This is a big ask. Not only was I asking her to help me, I was asking her to donate her weekend and stay up for what may have been 30+ hours; to potentially see me in pain and misery, and try to push me through that pain and misery; to put up with me if I got irritated, short, or otherwise shitty with her; to have things laid out and ready when I got done with a loop so I could be in and out quickly and not waste time; all so I could chase a crazy, self-indulgent goal. For her to even consider this I am incredibly grateful. To be honest, I was almost as worried about imposing on her as I was nervous about running the race. Being the person that she is though, she took everything in stride and helped far more than I could have asked of her. Being a social butterfly, she also quickly made friends with our neighbors. I can’t speak for her, but I think she had fun and enjoyed her first major ultra experience, despite the demands that I was asking of her.

Loop 1

The race started out a bit on the chilly side. Normally in this temperature, I would have been fine in shorts and a t-shirt or tank top, especially once I started running, but I was cold and opted for a long sleeve. The radar was showing a shot of rain, so I figured the long sleeves would serve me well anyway. We listened to a quick prerace speech and were sent on our way. The field of 90 or so runners started out of the park and down a long paved multi-use path. I took a spot near the back of the front pack as I usually do, but the jitters and excitement were getting at me. It took a great mental effort to not let loose and fly down the hill. I had a long way to go, and there was no sense in burning out before I had covered a single mile.

At the bottom of the hill, the path spits out on a short industrial road. We followed the road until it terminated in another path that led into the park. This is where we began the first big climb of the course. The trail follows steep switchbacks that navigate up to the top of the bluff. The flow of runners instantly slowed as everybody began to hike up the trail. For those who are unfamiliar with ultra running, hiking up hills is incredibly common. Running up all but the smallest hills can trash your legs and will become all but impossible as the miles stack up. In addition to this, a fast-paced hike will often get a runner up the hill in the same amount of time with much less effort. But even if a runner wanted to attempt to run up this section, the trail was single track with steep slopes making passing without falling or causing somebody else to fall near impossible.

At the top of the first climb sits the Julien Dubuque Monument, a major landmark at Mines of Spain. For the first loop, it was a requirement that runners take a short detour to follow the path around the monument. After this climb, runners dive back down to a path that runs along the river. This trail is composed of rolling segments until it runs into Horseshoe Bluff. I cannot verify this through information on hand, but if memory serves, Horseshoe Bluff was at one time a quarry. Regardless of whether this is true, a quarry gives the perfect mental image. The trail we follow ran through the bottom of Horseshoe Bluff. Sheer, vertical rock faces rose at least 100’ above us on both sides. I took a mental note that passing through this area at night, especially alone, would probably play mind games. During the day, it was a sight to behold. At night, it would be dark, the rock walls would close in and cause a sense of restriction, and the canyon would echo magnifying even the smallest noise. There is a small climb in this section before dropping back down to the river. After that comes a few more rollers before the second big climb and Aid Station 1 at roughly 4.25 miles. It was about this time that it started to drizzle. It was hardly enough to get the ground wet, and we were under tree cover which blocked most of it. It lasted only a short time.

As I came into Aid Station 1, I met a familiar face. Sid is active in the ultra-running community and happened to be volunteering today. I don’t know if he remembers it, but we chatted and ran together a bit during my very first ultra, and we have run into each other on several occasions after that point. We took a quick minute to catch up as I made my first stop. Here is where another first plays a factor. I had made the decision to switch race nutrition strategies. (If you’re wondering why go back and read my race report for High Cliff.) Today I was going to be using an electrolyte supplement free of sugars and ingesting all my calories through foods. However, most ultras only provide electrolytes with calories and sugars which meant I had to carry my own single-use electrolyte powders in my pack and mix them myself. Digging them out and mixing them in with my water undoubtedly added an extra minute, but the strategy would prove to be beneficial. I grabbed a few additional food items from my drop bag and hiked out of the aid station munching down an Epic Venison Bar.

Coming out of Aid Station 1, the climb continues for roughly 0.75 miles until the top of another bluff is reached at which point runners drop back down to river elevation, and start another climb of roughly 250 vertical feet. After reaching the top of the next climb comes an out and back section of rolling terrain. To ensure that runners complete the out and back section, there are two hole punches hung from a tree at the turn-around point. Upon reaching the hole punch, the runners much punch the appropriate location on their race bibs. Runners then travel back across the rolling hills meeting others on their way in. At this point, the field was starting to spread out a little bit and I could get a better gauge of where I fell in position. I’m never overly concerned with my position, especially this early in a race, but I estimate that I must have been somewhere around 10th place.

The out and back segment returns to the top of a bluff then branches as runners once again drop back down to river elevation. From the branch, it is a short stretch to Aid Station 2. This segment contains a few small stream crossings. On this day, it was easy to navigate the crossings without getting wet, but from what I understand, this area is prone to flooding which has led to certain wet feet in past years. I rolled into Aid Station 2 feeling great. I took a few minutes to restock and get ready, then set back out on the trail. Runners again climb a bluff as we made our way back to Aid Station 1. (Because the course follows many two-way trails, Aid Station 1 was passed twice during each loop.) I made another quick stop as I encountered Aid Station 1 for a second time, then dropped back down towards the river again.

The next segment contained a large climb, a drop back down to river elevation, a rolling segment, and another large climb up to Aid Station 3. I don’t remember exactly where in this segment it occurred, but I remember one portion of this vividly. One of the climbing sections had “steps”, the kind of steps that are composed of large stones placed like stairs. Anybody who has hiked these before knows that they are rarely placed at ergonomic heights, meaning to travel them one has to take large, awkward, lumbering steps. I remember thinking out loud, “these are going to be a bitch to climb in the morning.” Regardless, I made my way to Aid Station 3 traveling through parts of the park that were familiar to me from the time that I had spent there in college.

Aid Station 3 from the very start was a party. I heard the music far before I could see anything. I rolled in expecting to make a quick stop. This happened to be the only aid station that crew was allowed at except for the main Start/Finish area. As I was working to get my items refilled, I heard Emma come up behind me. I had not expected her to be here, but she had made the trip with the neighbors. Apparently I was running a pace similar to their runner, so timing had worked out that they all came together. She gave me a hand and sent me on my way as I neared the close of the first loop.

In my opinion the segment between Aid Station 3 and the Start/Finish was the toughest part of the course. The segment contains another drop to river elevation, a small climb, a rolling segment, a drop, medium climb, another drop, another medium climb, and another drop before reaching the entrance to the park and making the last large climb to the Start/Finish area. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but this segmetn was a real struggle. But I was still feeling fresh and traversed the area this time with relative ease.

I made my way to close out Loop 1, in under 3 hours and 45 minutes. This was much quicker than I had anticipated running, but I wasn’t concerned. I actually like race courses with a rolling terrain. I’m not good at self regulating my pace, so when I have an external factor like hills that force me to slow down every once in a while, I tend to run much better. I also knew that I would be slowing down over night, so I intended to use the most of my dyalight hours and move quickly. I met Emma at our camp site, restocked my food and fluids, swapped my long sleeve for a tank top, and set out for Loop 2.

Loop 2

As I made my way into Loop 2 I was amazed. This was the first time that I had gotten past the 20 mile mark without the slightest hint of stomach issues. I wasn’t holding my breath yet, but I was hopeful that my change in nutrition strategy would pay off. Taking an extra minute or two at aid stations to mix my own electrolytes was annoying, but it sure beat a 20-mile death march as I battled nausea and the prospect of throwing up.

Another first I noticed is that I was spending much more time alone in this race. I would encounter another runner on a two-way segment every once in a while. I was also playing leapfrog with a few runners immediately ahead of or behind me. I knew at this point that there were several runners around me and we were separated by a matter of only minutes. Despite this, I was running by myself for long stretches. I am used to finding somebody and sticking with them through long stretches of the race. For whatever reason, that did not seem to be how today was going to play out. I do most of my running alone with my thoughts, so the situation didn’t impact me, but I did note it as a different experience.

I made my way through Loop 2 without a hiccup. I was still feeling great and maintaining a speed and position I was happy with. I was encountering some palate fatigue near the end of the loop, but I had foreseen this and switched my food sources from bars to chia pouches and other semi-solid foods that didn’t require chewing. The only issue starting to nag at me was the temperature. Having switched to a tank top, I was starting to get cold. Again, I noted this as strange given the temperature but didn’t think much more about it. I came into the Start/Finish to close out Loop 2, again under 3 hours and 45 minutes. I jumped back into my long sleeve, restocked, and headed back out.

Loop 3

Much like Loop 2, Loop 3 was going well. I still had no sign of stomach issues. I was starting to slow slightly as I felt a little bit of tiredness setting in, but physically I was feeling good. I navigated the terrain as my mind wandered off. I was definitely entering a flow state. I don’t talk about it often, but I have a difficult time feeling emotions. I know how I “should” feel at a given time, but the actual emotion is often dull if present at all. Of everything, this is the side of my mental health that I struggle with most. Not being able to feel emotions has made it difficult to relate to people and form real emotional connections with people throughout various points in my life.

But something about running has always helped me to actually feel. This is the state that I was entering. Mostly I was feeling happy, excited, the race was going fantastic after all. But I was also feeling all the negative emotions that I hadn’t experienced over the past months. It was cathartic. At several points during the race, I found myself tearing up with joy, with disappointment, with anxiousness, and I loved every second of it. I took a step to the side of the trail while I collected myself and then continued running. I didn’t want to block the feelings, but it’s hard to breathe and cry at the same time. If I wanted to keep running, I could let the feelings in but had to keep myself from crying. The one exception to this was entering Aid Station 3. Again Emma and the neighbors were there, and by this time they had become good friends. As I entered the Aid Station, I heard them cheering my name, and I broke down. As Emma came up to give me a hand, I think she was a little bit surprised thinking that for me to be crying something had gone wrong. But on the contrary, if I start crying during a run it is more likely that things are going right. She asked if I was okay, and I assured her that I was.

Leaving Aid Station 3 is about the time the sun began to go down, and I flipped my headlamp on. It was starting to get dark, and even colder. I made my way to the Start/Finnish planning a course of action to tackle the night. I finished Loop 3 in around 4 hours. At this point, I was getting colder and pulled on pants, a thick running sweatshirt, and gloves. I would typically call this winter running gear and thought it might have been overkill, but given the fact that I had been unusually cold during the race so far, I thought it was better to be safe. I sipped some broth that Emma had heated up for me and sat for a few minutes mentally preparing to start my next loop.

Loop 4

Loop 4 was another new experience. I had gone on night runs before, but this was a degree of magnitude more extreme. It was dark and quiet. I was still running primarily on my own, so I didn’t have many other runners to feed off of for reassurance. But I was surprised at how little of an impact this played on me psychologically. I was expecting to be a little bit freaked out and to have to manage some negative thoughts, but they never came. I entered Horseshoe Bluff and instead of nerves felt awe. Mentally I was still doing well, physically though, this is the loop where things started going awry. In the winter gear, I instantly got too hot, so I took my pants back off, stuck them in my bag, and ran in shorts and a sweatshirt. But it didn’t take long for me to get cold. So I stopped, put my pants back on, and continued on my way, only to get too hot again. Finally, I had figured that pulling up my sleeves and pant legs when I got hot and pulling them back down when I got cold was going to be the most efficient way of moving forward. But it seemed that I was adjusting every mile or so to try and correct my body temperature.

I had also slowed my run to a purposeful hike for most of the loop. I knew that I would lose time in this manner, but I had planned for and expected it. Running is slower at night due to the simple fact that it is harder to see what is in front of you. Running the downhills as one would during the day was quickly becoming a hazardous strategy in the low light of a headlamp. I knew that if I could maintain a purposeful hike, that is not get lackadaisical and start walking, I wouldn't actually lose that much time in relation to the other runners. Besides, I was also hoping that saving myself a bit now would allow me to run again as the sun came up and finish on a strong note.

My temperature issues became more severe as I navigated through Loop 4 though. At the beginning of the loop, I swang between hot and cold. Now I was going from one extreme to another. I was freezing one minute and overheating the next, but as I neared the halfway point of the loop my temperature tipped to mostly freezing. I tried to make the best of the circumstances by continuing my march and slowing down as little as possible. I knew that I would have no real ability to fix my situation until I completed the loop, so relentless forward progress was the best approach. I tried to consume warm foods at aid stations starting with mashed potatoes and broth, following with warm bean burritos and cheese quesadillas, and then finally some hot coffee. None of this seemed to offer any relief. As I climbed the last hill to close out Loop 4 I was faced with a decision. I made it to the Start/Finish in around 6 hours for this loop.

DNF

Emma greeted me at the Start/Finish line, and the first thing out of my mouth was, “I need to get warm.” I had mentioned temperature issues to her at Aid Station 3 of Loop 3, so I don’t think this statement was a surprise to her. She helped me dig out a winter hat and a jacket that I could put on over my sweatshirt. I wrapped up in several blankets and sipped some more broth to try and bring up my body temperature. Nothing seemed to be working. Like the amazing person that she is, she offered up some of her own items like a jacket and gloves that were likely warmer than what I had on, but they were too small for me. I was bundled up and shivering, sitting there faced with the fact that continuing on to Loop 5 might not be a smart decision.

We had decided that taking a quick rest might allow my body to reset. With all my clothes still on and the blankets wrapped tight, I climbed into the sleeping bag we had in our tent with an alarm set for 30 minutes. Still freezing I drifted off into a shallow sleep. After the 30 minutes were up my condition had not changed and we decided to try for another 30 minutes. I desperately hoped that something would change. I didn’t need to feel good to start Loop 5, I just needed to feel better. I didn’t have a pacer, so heading out, freezing, into the coldest part of the night alone didn’t seem like a smart decision. If something were to happen I could easily be 2 miles from the closest aid station. That could be an hour or more depending on what section I was in. There was a chance that another runner would encounter me, but there is little they would be able to do to help. I love running ultras, so making the decision to not continue on would be tough. But making a smart decision now that didn’t jeopardize my safety would ensure that I am able to keep running ultras in the long run. I didn’t quite make it to the second 30-minute timer. I was unable to fall asleep this time and was getting colder as I lay there. I knew that if I felt like this while I was all bundled up, there was no way that I could shed everything and go back out on the course without risk.

After about an hour of trying to get myself back on track, I made the decision to drop from the race. I walked back to the Start/Finish with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes as I told the volunteer that I would be dropping. Josh, the race director was there. He had been keeping track of and cheering me on all day. I went over to express my gratitude to him and was greeted with a hug and some words of reassurance. This is another testament to the amazing people associated with this race.

So with 82.8 miles complete, I was done. The last 0.8 miles is without a doubt my slowest pace ever recorded. I averaged 1 hour 59 minutes and 23 seconds per mile. I had every intention of continuing my run, so all through changing, eating, and sleeping, I let my watch run. It wasn’t until the very last moment that I shut it off. For whatever reason, my body decided that I wasn’t going to complete this race. What’s frustrating though, is that in the days following, I was in relatively good condition. My feet had no blisters, I had relatively little chafing, sure I was tired and sore, but overall I was feeling pretty good. There is no doubt in my mind that I would have had a good chance at completing the race had I not encountered the temperature issues that I did. I’m not certain I would have finished, nothing is certain in ultra running, but I would have had a chance.

I started running ultras to see if I could find my limits. I certainly found my limit during Mines of Spain 100, but no part of me believes that is the limit to my potential. Now, more than ever, I know that I am capable of completing a 100 miler. The conclusion to this race was an obstacle, but it is an obstacle that I am determined to return and conquer. In the days following, the DNF has weighed heavy on my mind, I wish I had an immediate opportunity for redemption. It was a failure. But I am not going to allow myself to dwell on this failure. I will finish a 100 miler, and I will return to complete Mines of Spain 100. I already have an October race on the schedule for 2022, but I guarantee my name will be on the list for a spot at Mines of Spain in 2023.

Proud to Partner With:

Bigger Than The Trail

Ornery Mule Racing

Nuun Hydration

Shoes: Saucony – Mad River TR

Gear: Saucony - shorts, Injinji - socks

Wearables: Garmin - Forerunner 945, Oura Ring

Nutrition: ATH - supplements, Nuun Hydration - electrolytes

Recovery: ATH - Post, Nuun Hydration - Recover, Freeze Sleeves