race report

About the Race

The Wedel Farm 50 Series is directed by Emily and Tony Thompson and held on the Wedel Farm. The former pig farm, nestled in the rolling hills of Wisconsin’s Driftless Region, became a conservation project for the Wedel family who aimed to restore the area to a natural state by planting native prairie grasses. The course consists of a 10 mile(1) loop with the first half of the running through mowed prairie and the second half running primarily through wooded trail with a prairie section at the end. (The course is run in reverse for the 50k event on the following day.) This particular event holds a special place in my heart as the 50k in 2018 marked my first ultra, and this year’s 50 Mile marked my 1-year anniversary of ultra-running.

I had made the trip from my hometown to Argyle many times before, so I was able to relax and enjoy my breakfast of waffles and StōK cold brew coffee on the way down. By 4:00 I was pulling into the long gravel driveway of the Wedel Farm. It was at this moment that I realized that I had forgotten to pack my headlamp. With no way of attaining one, I put it out of my head, gathered my gear, and trekked up to the Start/Finish line. After getting settled in, I slammed a pre-workout drink, choked down a few cordyceps mushroom pills, and pounded another bottle of water. I paced around a bit to try and loosen up my legs, then I towed myself to the starting line.

The race started at 5:00 a.m., and despite my hopeful thinking, it was still far too dark to run without an artificial light source. So, I fell in line with two runners near the front of the pack and navigated the best I could from their light. The 50-mile course opens with about 5 miles of prairie which had been freshly mowed. Between the thick mats of cut grass and the heavy morning dew, my feet were soaked within minutes. And the fact that I was stumbling into puddles I couldn’t see only made matters worse.

After about 30 minutes the sun had risen enough that I was able to navigate on my own, but I stayed in a pack with the two runners who I had now learned were named Ryan and Shawn. I liked their pace and they provided interesting conversation.  We rolled into the first manned aid station around mile 5 and then headed into my favorite part of the course.

At Wedel Farm the second half of the loop is comprised primarily of rolling single track through forested terrain. So far this has been the strongest segments of my races. The trees keep the sun off and allow a little bit of refuge. My strategy of hiking the up hills and taking the downhills at a controlled fall seems to be where I can gain ground on other athletes. And I love the rocky, root laced, dirt surface that weaves in and out meeting streams and downed trees. To me running was meant to be done in this terrain. It makes me feel like a kid dodging obstacles, swerving and bobbing; it’s just more fun. One thing I don’t care for in this particular section is the bounty of thorns, thistles, branches, and brush. It’s beat me up and left me cut and bleeding two years in a row now. To be fair the pre-race newsletter does warn about this and advise gaiters, but I willfully ignore this. It’s not fun, but it’s part of the experience.

I ran steady with Ryan and Shawn for the first three laps and got to know them a bit. Both Ryan and Shawn are experienced ultra-runners planning to embark on the Superior 100 Miler in September. Ryan was from Manitowoc and Shawn had come up in the Dakotas but was living in Duluth. I don’t want to divulge too much about them or their personal lives as those are their stories to tell, but I came to find that I had much in common with them. I enjoyed their company and picked up a bit of knowledge along the way.

After lap 3 we began to separate a little bit. Ryan took the lead ahead of me, and I started to pull away from Shawn. My legs were still feeling good, but my stomach was starting to bother me. Typically, I like to eat “real” food every 10 miles or so. This usually comes in the form of some sort of Epic Provisions bar. But today I had ditched that strategy. Aid stations at ultras typically have sandwiches, pickles, bananas, “burritos”, and soup. This is food that I should be eating. But what may be surprising to hear is that they’re also full of candy: Jolly Ranchers, gummy bears, M&M’s. After mile 10, I had decided that my diet was going to be pickles, gummy bears, and a freezie pop, and it was starting to catch up with me. By the 35-mile mark I had made the decision to stop eating and let my stomach catch up with me. Through lap 4 my condition progressively worsened. As my stomach gradually started to improve, my legs began to go.

By mile 38 I came up on another runner and began talking to him in order to focus my mind on something other than my decreasing state. It so happens that he lives within 15 minutes of me and was running his first ultra. We chatted a bit, and I shared what little knowledge and advice I had accumulated in my year of running. I used him to help me through the last leg of lap 4, and we rolled into the Start/Finish together.

I didn’t want to waste any time at the aid station. I knew if I wasn’t quick the thoughts of calling it a day would slowly slip into my mind. I changed my socks, refilled on fluids, shot my mom a quick text letting her know my status, and headed out for my final lap. Now my stomach pains eased, and I’m sure it’s because I had stopped eating. But I was also about to enter the hottest portion of the day and the most difficult section of the course all while running low on reserves. And here, my choice to stop eating was doing me no service.

I ran out of the aid station and continued for only about 5 minutes before I had to stop and walk. The prairie sections are my worst. They’re brutal. There is little to block the sun. The tall grasses and plants hold onto the morning dew and, as the day gets hotter, it slowly evaporates meaning that the humidity only gets worse as the day goes on. And running itself is harder because of the longer grass and straw like consistency that the mowed mats take on. It sounds silly, but the little bit of resistance that it adds becomes noticeable. Some runners thrive in these conditions, I am not one of these runners. By mile 41 my body was ready to quit. And I had to remind myself that quitting is never an option. I promise myself before every race that I will run, walk, or crawl if I must, but I will not quit.

So, I did just that. Most of lap 5 consisted of me walking, just focusing on moving forward. I would run in flat and downhill sections, but my run was quickly diminishing to a trot, then a shuffle. I rolled into the aid station at mile 45 with a little bit of hope for the second half of the loop. I thought refilling on fluids and getting into the shade would help give me an extra boost to finish out. But I quickly realized that I was too drained, and even this provided little relief. But I pushed onward. Within the last two miles, Shawn had caught back up to me. We exchange some words and I tried to piggy back off his pace, but that only lasted five minutes or so. I gave him a bit of encouragement to finish as he was pulling away and he did the same for me.

After 9 hours 1 minute and 26 seconds I finally reached the finish line, earning myself and 8th place finish. I grabbed my finisher’s medal and was greeted by my family who showed up to support me. I chatted with them for a bit. As soon as they left, I took my shoes and socks off, and planted my ass firmly in a chair, and sucked down and ice-cold Spotted Cow that the aid station graciously provided. I sat and talked with the guys who finished around me for a bit, then went on my way. But in the wake of the race, I am always reminded of why I run. That struggle, the urge to quit but the drive to continue, that’s what I’m after. I’m searching for myself and for my limits. And I now know this, 50 miles is not my limit.

The competition was amazing this year. The course record now stands at 7:28:33 with the first 7 runners beating the previous course record of 9:01:06. As expected, the race was difficult, but rewarding. Everybody involved was friendly and helpful. I cannot thank the RD’s, aid station volunteers, the Wedel’s, or my fellow athletes enough for providing such a positive environment. They run an event called the 50/50 consisting of the 50 Miler on Saturday and the 50k on Sunday. This sounds like it might be the right challenge for next year? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

1. Admittedly this course is a bit short. The GPS files of runners after the race range from 40 to 45 miles. This means that an actual loop falls between 8 and 9 miles rather than 10. If I had to guess, I think 9 miles is closer to the actual distance. That being said, I refer to the mileage throughout the report relative to the “50 Mile” title and not the actual distance.