Race Report: Surf the Murph Marathon

On October 19, I ran the Surf the Murph Marathon.  This is a trail marathon held in Murphy-Hanrehan Park Reserve in Savage, MN.  They’ve had ultramarathons on these trails for several years.  Last year, they added a marathon.  One of my long-term goals is to run every marathon in Minnesota, so I had to add this one to my list.  By the time I found out about the marathon, it was already too late to register for last year’s event.  I had to wait until this year.

I was initially unsure if I could fit this race into my schedule this year.  I ran the Chicago Marathon last weekend, and I’m running the Snowdonia Marathon in Wales next weekend.  It helps that this race is close to home for me.

This was my sixth consecutive weekend with a marathon, and I have another one next weekend.  I’ve been going all out week after week, so it was time to dial it back and just stay within my comfort zone.  I knew it wasn’t going to be fast anyway.  I’m not a good trail runner.  I’ve never run on these trails before, so I didn’t know exactly how difficult they were.  I braced myself for something comparable to the Moose Mountain Marathon or the Eugene Curnow Trail Marathon.  If these trails turned out to be less technical, I could be pleasantly surprised.  In any event, my only goal was to finish.

In all, there were five race distances.  The course for the 100 mile race was a 16.7 mile loop that they ran six times.  The 50 mile race ran the same loop three times.  The “50K” race ran this loop twice.  I put 50K in parentheses, because two loops add up to about 54K.  The “25K” race ran this loop once, which is more like 27K.  The marathon was the only distance that didn’t just run the same loop.  We ran the 16.7 loop once and then ran a shorter version of the loop that was only 9.5 miles.

The marathon and “25K” didn’t start until 7:30 AM, but the longer races started earlier.  Packet pickup was on the morning of the race, near the start/finish area.  They had limited parking near the start.  I assumed the close parking would already be full by the time I got there, but I decided to check anyway.  They were almost full, but I got there in time to get one of the last spots in the close parking lot.

When I registered, they mailed me a “Training for Surf the Murph” T-shirt.  With my race packet, I got another T-shirt, a packet of Hammer Gel, and a couple different muscle recovery products.

Because it’s close to Halloween, this is a costume race.  I didn’t have any new ideas for a costume, and I didn’t want to wear anything bulky.  I opted to wear the same cheetah outfit I wore last weekend in Chicago.  The weather this weekend was warmer than Chicago was, but it was still cool enough that I could wear tights without getting too hot.  It helped that I was going at a slower pace.

When I got back to the car, I checked the weather again.  My weather app said it was going to start raining in about an hour.  That surprised me, because there wasn’t any rain in the forecast.  The hourly forecast now showed showers for the next two hours.  I looked at the radar.  There was nothing nearby, but there was a large band of rain over northern Iowa that was moving in our direction.

I took off my warm-up clothes and went to have my picture taken for the costume contest.  After making a bathroom stop, I made one last stop at the car.  It wasn’t raining yet, but I tied my Tyvek jacket around my waist, so I would have something to keep me warm if we had a long period of heavy rain.  Then I went to the starting line for pre-race instructions.

We started out on a nice wide grassy trail.  I didn’t initially notice any rocks or roots.  I was relieved to see that this course wasn’t too technical, but I quickly discovered that it had lots of steep hills.  In the first mile, I was running most of them.  In the second mile, I realized that running the hills was going to wear me out.  I started taking walking breaks on anything steep.  My first mile took about 10 minutes, but over the next few miles, my pace was between 11 and 12 minutes.

We had a dry start, but I started noticing a few drops of rain early in the second mile.  I wasn’t in any rush to put on my jacket.  I took a wait and see approach.  I wasn’t cold, so I waited to see if it would rain harder.  The rain picked up a little, but it never rained hard.

Most of the time, we were running through the forest.  Occasionally, we ran near the edge of a pond.

About three miles into the race, I reached the North aid station.  On average, the aid stations were about four miles apart.  Runners doing the longer distances were all wearing fuel belts or other hydration systems.  I didn’t want to carry that much extra weight, so I just drank at the aid stations.  Not carrying fluids with me really lightened my load.  I didn’t want to count on them having cups, so I used a small cup that I could clip to my fanny pack.  I wasn’t sweating that much, so I was able to get by just fine drinking one cup of HEED at each aid station.

After about four miles, I was past the worst of the hills.  I started to notice more rocks and roots in spots, but the hills got more gradual.  I could avoid the rocks and roots if I wasn’t on a steep downgrade.

At 5.5 miles, I reached the Horse Camp aid station.  This is where the marathon route deviated from the route used by the other races.  On my first lap, I turned left, to continue on the full 16.7 mile loop.  On my second lap, I would need to turn right here, to take a shorter route to the finish.

It still wasn’t raining hard, but the trail surface started to get slick.  I had one scary moment where I felt my feet sliding as I was running down a hill.  I didn’t feel like I was under control again until I reached the bottom of the hill.

The next obstacle was a wide mud pit.  It seemed too deep to run straight through it.  I did my best to tiptoe around it, but I still got my shoes wet.

The next few miles were the easiest part of the course.  We were running through a meadow.  There were gentle rolling hills, but I rarely had to walk any of them.

At about 10 miles, I reached the Natchez aid station.  Right after the aid station, I came to a paved road.  This was right at the boundary of the park.  We ran on the edge of the pavement for about a half mile.  Then the paved road turned into a dirt road.  It was still a firm surface, so I continued to enjoy footing that wasn’t slippery.

As I was running along the dirt road, I looked ahead and saw some clear sky to the west.  Up until now, the clouds were all dark.  Now I was optimistic the rain would let up.  Thankfully, it never rained hard.

As we left the road, we got onto another section of trail that was nice and wide.  It would have been easy if not for two long muddy sections.  The first muddy section was impassible in the middle, but I was a narrow ledge on the right side when I could stay above the mud.  Several other runners had run here already, and it was getting slick.  I was so worried about sliding into the deep mud that I had to slow to a walk.

The second long section of mud was easier to navigate, but it made me wish I had football cleats instead of running shoes.  By now, the rain had stopped.  I knew this was a section of trail I would only need to run once, so I was hopeful the worst of the mud was over.

After the muddy patches, I found myself getting tired.  Then I realized it had been a long time since I had to walk up a hill.  Doing continuous running, I had picked up my pace to the point where it was starting to get tiring.

At about 13 miles, we came to another aid station.  I saw “Horse” in the name.  It seemed curious to me that there were two aid stations with horse in the name.  In fact, we were coming back into the “Horse Camp” aid station.  It didn’t look familiar, because we approached it from a different direction and would also leave it in a different direction.  We didn’t even use the same food and beverage table.  It was more like two aid stations that were right next to each other.

Leaving Horse Camp for the second time, we entered a section of single track trail.  I quickly encountered a muddy puddle of water across the trail.  It was right across the trail, but resembled a pond more than a puddle.  On the left side, I saw a series of five stumps that were arranged like stepping stones.  That looked like a tempting route until I saw they were caked with mud.  The soles of my shoes were also muddy.  I couldn’t help but to remember my experience at the Bighorn Trail 100, where I slipped off a boulder under similar conditions and fell into a stream.

On the right side of the mud pond, there were some logs.  They were arranged like a narrow bridge.  They looked slippery, but I walked across them gingerly.  I started to lose my balance, but by then I was able to hop onto some soft ground.  I got across without plunging my shoes into muddy water again.

I continued on the single-track trail.  There weren’t any rocks or roots here, but the trail was narrow, and the ground was slick in spots.  I took the rest of this section at a cautious pace.

Just past the 14 mile mark, I turned onto a wider trail.  Then I encountered a hill that was steep enough that I had to walk part of it.  It was the first time in several miles that I had to walk a hill.

There were a couple of hills that I needed to walk, but this section wasn’t as difficult as the hills in the first four miles.

I was a bit disheartened when I reached a section of single-track trail with fallen branches and a fallen tree.  Here, I had to slow down and step carefully.  Fortunately, this section was short.

The rest of the loop had good footing.  There were two more hills that made me walk, but I felt like this section was still much easier than the first four miles.  Soon, I completed the loop and ran through the start/finish area to begin my second loop.

After 16.7 miles, I was easily on pace to break five hours.  I knew what the first 5.5 miles of the second loop would be like, because they were the same as the first loop.  They were also the hardest 5.5 miles.  I didn’t know what to expect after that.  I assumed the last four miles would be over a section of trail I hadn’t seen yet.

In the first mile of my second loop, I was surprised how hilly it was.  I had to walk up three of the hills.  At most, I walked one hill the first time I ran that mile.  The next two miles were worse.  Instead of just walking the steepest part of each hill, I was walking all the way up the hill.  On one particularly steep hill, just walking up the hill was difficult.

Up until now, I hadn’t seen other runners in costume.  I think I was the only one doing the marathon in any type of costume, unless you count all the people dressed as trail runners.  The longer races all started at different times.  I had passed some of those runners along the route, but there were probably several others I hadn’t seen yet.  As I got close to the North aid station, I saw a runner dressed as a witch, complete with broom.

As I passed the witch, I complimented her on her costume.  I didn’t recognize her yet.  As I paused to drink at the aid station, I looked back, and I finally recognized her.  It was Karen Gall.  I see Karen every year at FANS.

Leaving the north aid station, I still had one more really hilly mile.  After that mile, I checked my watch.  Over the first four miles of the second loop, I was averaging 13 minutes per mile.  The first time I ran this section, I averaged somewhere between 11 and 12 minutes per mile.  Clearly, the second loop was going to be slower.  I had another mile and a half to get to the Horse Camp aid station.  I knew this section was easier, but I didn’t know what the last four miles would be like.  I was really hoping they would be as tough as the first four miles of the loop.

At Horse Camp, I told the volunteers I was finishing the marathon and asked them which way to go.  I started running in the direction they pointed.  I saw a mile marker, but I was seeing it from the back.  That seemed odd.  Then I saw orange flagging around a bend to my right.  They said to go right, so I followed the flagging around the corner.

I got onto a section of single-track trail that seemed familiar.  The farther I ran, the more familiar it seemed.  Then I reached a muddy puddle across the trail.  On the left side, I saw a familiar series of five stumps.  This was the same puddle I encountered with four miles to go in the first loop.

I finally connected the dots and realized I had gone through the Horse Camp aid station twice during the first lap.  The last four miles weren’t going to be anything unfamiliar.  I was repeating the last four miles of the loop.  They shortened the second loop to 9.5 miles by having us skip the middle section.

As it turns out, the section we skipped on this loop was by far the easiest part of the course.  I didn’t mind that.  I was just happy I knew what to expect.  It wasn’t as easy as the middle section of the loop, but it was definitely easier than the first four miles.  I could handle this.

I found this section of single-track trail to be easier this time.  It had been about two hours since the rain stopped, and the trial no longer felt slippery.  I tried to remember what was next.  It was a wider section of trail.  It had a few steep hills, but not too many.

There was one thing I forgot.  I realized it only when I got there.  I forgot about the short section of single-track trail where I had to step over branches.  Fortunately, it’s short.

As I got back onto wide trail, I knew nothing else was too difficult.  I was picking up my pace over the last few miles.  I had to walk two more hills, but all the most difficult sections were behind me.

With 1.7 miles to go, I checked my watch.  I was still on pace break five hours by a wide margin.  With a strong finish, I would get done in about 4:52.  I couldn’t think of any other goals within reach.  I couldn’t bring my average pace down below 11.  That was well out of reach.  I certainly couldn’t run negative splits.  That ship sailed when I had to do so much more walking in the first four miles.  I picked up my pace a little, but I didn’t have any incentive to run up the last two hills.

With a half mile to go, I started hearing cheering from spectators.  I’m pretty sure they were all in the same family, but they were spread out along the trail, so they each cheered for me separately.

At the end of the loop, you turn right to start the next one or you turn left to finish.  I made the left turn and ran under the finish line balloon arch.  I finished in 4:52:41.  Instead of a medal, I got one of these.

They made these impressions on the wood using branding irons.  They had a fire pit just past the finish line to heat them.

After finishing, I was told to go the same building where I picked up my race packet.  I won one of the costume awards.  My award included a large jar of electrolyte drink powder, another shirt, a car seat cover, a cooling towel, and a large bottle of pain relief cream.

While I was there, I saw two other runners who won awards.  They were both dressed as bees.  Karen was still on the trail, but I assume she won an award for her witch outfit.

I paused in the finish area to have a sandwich and some soup.  As I started walking back to my car, I opened the front of my fanny pack to get my car keys.  I couldn’t find them.  They were supposed to be right next to my camera.  As I continued feeling for them, I discovered a hole in my fanny pack.  My keys weren’t there.  They had fallen out during the race.

My keys could be anywhere along 16.7 miles of trail.  Twice, I stepped off the trail to take pictures of ponds.  I ran through deep patches of mud.  Parts of the trail are covered with leaves.  Even if I had time to walk the entire loop, it’s unlikely I would find them.  It also seemed unlikely another runner would find them, unless I lost them right at an aid station.

My phone was in my car, but the car was locked.  I had to borrow a phone to call Deb.  She has a cold, so I knew she wouldn’t want to drive to the park, but that’s the only way I was going to get another set of keys.

While I was talking to Deb, the race officials sent text messages to all the aid station captains.  Someone found my keys and turned them in at the North aid station.  I got a ride to the aid station to pick them up.  I’ll never know where I lost my keys or who found them, but I’m grateful.  After only a minimal delay, I was able to drive home.

As I mentioned above, one of my long-term goals has been to run every marathon in Minnesota.  This was the last one.  I’ve run them all.  My victory dance will be short, however.  Next year, there will be at least two new ones.  This is the sort of goal that you can never really be done with.  That’s OK.  It’s not about the destination.  It’s about the journey.  If the journey continues, that’s not a bad thing.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:52:41

Average Pace:  11:10

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  389

Minnesota Marathons:  57