Ice Age Trail Misery

Saturday's Indian Lake Trail Run was simply brutal. Fun, but brutal no less. The race, organized by The Friends of Indian Lake, took place in one of my favorite places in Dane County. Indian Lake is a little used gem on the western edge of the driftless area. The small kettle lake sits in a small valley surrounded by wooded hills and is a part of Wisconsin's Ice Age Trail system. I anticipated a challenge, yet did not expect at all what I had to endure.

This 12 km race turned out to be incredibly difficult. After all the hill training I did at Elver I figured I would be ready. Little did I know that these trails would make Elver seem flat and easy.

The race began with us running up a small incline. Then within a half mile the course turned to the left and headed straight uphill. At this point the runners were still bunched up and there wasn't much room to operate. I tried to hold steady, yet runners all around me were gasping for breath, bitching about the hill, and hogging the middle of the trail. Still feeling strong and feeling prepared by Elver I looked for opportunities to bounce by the slow ones. It felt good to launch myself up the hill and past the struggling runners. Then after a few hundred yards more we turned down the hill and headed back towards the lake and the flats. We followed the flat lake-side trail around the lake to the western shore and then headed off into the prairie. All total we had about three miles of flat running.

But the flats were only a momentary relief as at about the four mile mark we went back into the hills. After being passed by many runners on the flats, I was again able to make up some ground during the elevation gains. I kept working, kept breathing, kept striding, kept my confidence and eventually made my way to the top.

Yet the hills never stopped. At each turn they seemed to go higher. Occasionally we would get a small little downhill sprint, only to find ourselves climbing once again. The trails were made even more challenging because of all the leaves on the path. Several times throughout the run I tripped on an exposed root running atop the ground. On the downhills I would need to simply prance gingerly, trying not to trip and fall. Yet still I continued and still I slowly began to pass more people.

After about 63 or 64 minutes of running we passed the sign that said 1k remaining. The small pack I was running with all picked up the pace. Each of us appeared to find a new step. We were running down a gradual downhill, we were running back towards the lake, and an easy stroll to the finish was all we had left.

And then we saw it. As we left the woods and headed through a small gap that led towards a treeless prairie, I saw runners not heading towards the lake, but instead heading up yet another hill. As I got closer I noticed that the runners were switching back twice. Restocking my energy I climbed towards the first switchback. Upon arrival I realized that the trail was replaced by stairs, and that those stairs eventually turned again, this time into a tiny little trail that cut straight up the hill. Brutal. So close to the finish and yet so cruel. They saved the worst hill for last.

 Yet eventually I made it to the top, and then back down again, and then around the parking lot and to the finish. My body beaten, my legs exhausted, yet my goal met: 7.5 miles in 1:13:03 (a 9:46 pace). Not bad for an old guy. When the results were posted I learned that I came in 111 out of 184 and 16 out of 20 for the 50 and older crowd. A beautiful run on a beautiful day on a beautiful trail. Beaten but happy. Just another day closer to the birkie!