Wild Duluth lived up to her wild name! A few days before the race the weather reports were looking dicey. Lots of snow, freezing rain and wind. It was going to be an interesting day.
Due to Covid restrictions we were going to have a staggered start between 7 -10 AM, only 10 to a bus, no aid other than water at aid stations. Masks at start/finish/water stations. I was so excited to be able to run WD again. So grateful to the Holak's for allowing us to run.
I spent Friday night at Fitgers. I usually stay at Fitgers when not driving up race day. It's quiet, clean and I can always pick up last minute supplies at Trail Fitters. I picked up some gloves this visit.
Saturday morning I headed for Bayfront Festival Park to make my 630 AM bus departure, for a 700 start time wave. It was a beautiful morning. I had many layers packed into my hydration vest along with a PB&J, gels, sweet potato and rice. I was all set.
I lined up with one other person at the start and Andy yelled go! Off we went. In the darkness I could see the big wet flakes slowly falling to the ground.
My headlamp was only necessary for 30 or so minutes. I removed it and placed it into my pack. I was very comfortable in fleece tights, long sleeved medium weight top and light jacket, gloves and ear band. I pulled up my mask when I came upon a few runners, passing. The sunrise was gorgeous, making the snow flakes shimmer orange. Beautiful.
Every so often I stopped to take a few photos. The St Louis River, the large pine forest, the foggy lake. Spectacular.
I felt good. Well rested, strong, enjoying each step. I noticed the snow was sticking to the ground, alarmingly so. I thought with the warmed ground that it would melt on contact. Not so. It was piling up on the grassy areas, the rocks and the boardwalks. The boardwalks were pretty trecherous.
As I ran along through the day a few of the faster runners from the later waves would catch and pass me, but for the most part it was a very quiet day. I was deep in thought, fully immersed in a day by myself, running away from the world and it's problems.
The snow began to pile up. 3" in total by the end of the race.
I came into mile 16 and was filling up my bladder which was empty. I had drained it during the first 4 hours. As I was filling it up, Doug Barton walked up. He was volunteering while Maria ran. It was good to see Doug, a friendly recognizable face, even through his facemask! Maria began an hour after me so I never did see her out there. That was the only bummer of the race-with Covid and all of the precautions were weren't able to see one another nor hang out at the finish. It was so good that they took all of the precautions though, so that we could race.
I said goodbye to Doug and continued to scamper along the trail. The freezing rain began to fall. I could feel my arms were beginning to get wet. I didn't feel like stopping to pull my windbreaker out of my pack. I ran on.
The beautiful trail. My quads were starting to get tired at about mile 27, a few miles to the finish. I reflected on how grateful I was to check out of real life for a day and just enjoy myself, running down the trail.
Eventually I popped onto pavement, following the next few miles to the finish. I felt tears upon my cheeks, trying to hold back. I couldn't. I was so happy and feeling such gratitude.
Pulling on my mask I came into the finish. I again saw Doug (yay), collected my shirt and cup, gave a million thanks to Kim and headed for my car. I drove home, smiling all of the way.
No pain, no tiredness, no low points. Just one hell of a lovely day to run.
Up next: Chesterwoods 50K November 8.