Kettle Morain - Let it Rain

This past weekend (June 7th and 8th), I traveled to southern Wisconsin to run the Kettle Moraine 100 Mile Endurance Run. What a wonderful adventure this turned out to be. K-M is run along the Ice Age Trail through southwestern Wisconsin. It consists of two out-and-back stretches. First you go 31 miles north east and turn around and come back to the Start/Finish line and then you go south east for 19 miles and turn around and return. In addition to the 100 mile race, they also simultaneously conduct a 100K. While not a terribly tough course, it does have over 10,000 feet of elevation gain and loss and is ran almost exclusively (except for road crossings) on either single or double track trail. This course covers three types of terrain. About 1/3th of the course consists of fairly short, up and down hills. These hills are affectionately known as “Pointless Ups and Downs (PUDs)”. PUDS were typically found throughout hardwood forests. ½ of the course traverses wide open meadows with little shade. While the terrain was mostly flat across these sections, heat and humidity could easily become an issue. Finally, the rest of the course wondered through fairly thick pine forests. The forests stretches were incredibly soft from the pine duff that had accumulated under the trees.


Th e race started at 6 AM Saturday under cloudy and threatening skies. At the race briefing prior to the start, the RD warned of possible storms, some of which could be severe. Because of the lack of split times, I didn’t have a detailed spilt chart. My plan was to average 15 miles an hour for the first 50 miles and hopefully finish it around 12 hours. The second half of the course I planned on 18 minute miles to 70 miles and 20 minute miles the last 30 miles or so. This worked out to 28 hours with a 30 hour maximum to finish. The first 31 miles to the turn-around were pretty uneventful. I projected being at the turn-around at 1:51 and made it there at 1:14, 37 minutes ahead of schedule. All of the race reports indicated how tiresome PUDs would become, but I found them very enjoyable. I soon fell in to a rhythm of hiking the ups and running the downs and most of the in-betweens. Time went by very quickly. By mid-day, it had become pretty warm (87 degrees at one aid station) and very humid (I’d guess 70%). My hydration strategy was to drink at least a 20 oz bottle every hour, more if necessary. It must have worked since I continued to pee almost hourly and mostly passed the 3C test (clean, clear and copious). Shortly after the turn-around, it began to sprinkle lightly and I could see and hear lightning in the distance.

Somewhere between the 39 mile and 44 mile aid station (this race was great, most aid stations were between 4 and 5 miles apart, just right for finishing one water bottle) the clouds rolled in and the rain started with a vengeance. Personally, I’ve never experienced rain like we had for the next 18 hours. It rained almost constantly and at times it felt like the garden hose was being held above your head. At about 4 PM, coming off a ridge and approaching one of the prairie sections, a loud whistle began to blow from a neighboring farm (I later learned it was a tornado warning). Within 5 minutes we were in an absolute deluge with lightning bouncing of the hills around us. At one point, I decided it was futile to try to go farther, especially out into the open prairie so I sat down on the side of the trail to wait it out. Within minutes, the water pressure from the stream running down the hill and hitting my backside started to scout me down the trail. Sucks to have a big backside. Needless to say, sitting wasn’t an option so I alternated sitting and rolling on to my knees and letting the flood flow by. After 10 minutes, or so, the rain let up and I continued into the meadow in front of me.

The trail in the meadow wasn’t much of an improvement. The rain water had run down the hillsides and flooded the meadow and the trail followed the lowest ground. For the next couple of miles we waded through knee deep water until we reached the hill on the other side. As bad as it seemed at the time, it didn’t slow me down as much as I anticipated. My plan was to be at the 47 mile aid station at 5:47 and I made it by 5:33. I’d lost 24 minutes of my 37 minute lead at 31 miles, but I was still 14 minutes ahead of schedule. The 47 mile aid station was one of the places you passed through twice and could have a drop bag. I grabbed mine and knocked back an Ensure and opened a can of Campbell’s Double Noodle, Chicken Noodle Soup and made fast work of it. Through out this race, my refueling strategy consisted of a can of soup and a bottle of Ensure at five different locations with drop bags. In a couple of minutes, I devoured 650 calories. At aid stations without drop bags, I supplemented this with whatever ultra food looked good, mostly alternating between sweet and salty stuff. This race had excellent turkey and ham sandwiches, both with plenty of real Mayo. Typically, I walked out of the aid station eating one or both of these items. Speaking of aid stations, K-M’s were top notch. I was amazed at the number of very knowledgeable volunteers that jumped up and took care of all your needs. In some cases, they were so helpful; they almost slowed you down trying to get back on the trail.

The next five miles, I hit my first low point. In hind sight, I think I focused so hard on getting to 50 miles in 12 hours, I suffered from a mental lapse. Regardless, time really dragged and I seemed to have little energy. Surprisingly, the weather was fairly good at this time and the trail was sandy so water and mud weren’t the issue. Any time you run an ultra, you’re bound to hit a patch or two. This was obviously one of mine. The secret is to continue on until you feel a little better, it’s bound to happen. The Bluff Road aid station at mile 55 shook me out of my doldrums. Bluff Road was my favorite stop of the race and we went through it three different times. The last ½ mile in both directions was lined with pink flamingos and the volunteers all wore flowered Hawaiian shirts. If a little Jimmy Buffet won’t light your fuse after 55 miles, your powder has got way to wet. I left Bluff Road at 8:12 PM and got to Nordic, the Start/Finish line at 10:19 PM, about 10 minutes behind my projected schedule, but I’d picked up almost 10 minutes on the run between Bluff and Nordic.

Nordic was the Start/Finish line and the point you transitioned directions on the trail. It also marked the end of the 100K. This race allows 100 mile participants to drop out at 62 miles and still be counted as a 100k finisher. Because of the weather, many runners stopped and called it a night. Personally, not going out was never a factor. Joe and I had a discussion a while back and both agreed that to be successful at ultras, you need to eliminate negative thoughts. No longer is quitting early an option. If I don’t make a cut-off and they take you off the course, at least you gave it your all. 100 milers aren’t physically challenging, it’s all mental. Your mind will play terrible games if you allow it. Headed back out of Nordic, you first pass through Bluff Road before you go in the other direction. The run back to Bluff was even better than the run in had been. I left the aid station with a lady named Nancy and her brother Robert. Nancy was running her first 100 miler and Bob was her pacer. We spent a very enjoyable, but also wet 2 hours going back to Bluff. Unfortunately, the rain had started back up and lightning could be seen in the distance.

I left Bluff at 1:09 and headed south. This portion of the race went 11 miles then turned around and returned. The nature of the trail also seemed to change. It was much narrower and not as well maintained. Going up it was mostly uphill and when you turned around it was mostly down. I don’t remember any PUDs and very few meadows along this trail. However, most of the pine forests were along this stretch. It was seven miles to a manned aid station with one unmanned, “water only” station about mid-way. The hike (by this time I wasn’t doing much running) to the unmanned aid station seemed really slow. The weather had worsened and consisted of a constant steady rain. It was also getting late at night and I hit another bit of a patch. I’d also left Nancy at Bluff (learned later she’d dropped) so I was mostly on the trail alone. Oh yeah, it was also really dark and my flashlight quit working. Luckily I had spare batteries and was able to fix it in the dark. I made it into the manned aid station at about 3:15, now 45 minutes behind my schedule, but still 1:45 ahead of the cut-off. Not great but ok.

Unfortunately, 10 minutes prior to reaching the aid station, the rain started again with a vengeance. Like an idiot, when I entered the aid station (a huge army tent) I decided to wait out the storm. 30 minutes later my backside was still firmly planted in a lawn chair and the rain still beat down on the tent. I slapped myself and got up to leave. However, the 30 minute respite meant I was 1:15 behind my schedule and only 1:15 ahead of the cut-off. As I left the aid station I talked to guy making the return trip. He claimed the trail was brutal. It might have been an understatement.

I don’t remember very much about the last 4.4 miles to the turnaround point other than it rained harder than I’d ever seen rain fall and the wind blew. At one point, my flashlight couldn’t penetrate the downpour and I thought I’d lost the trail. I wrapped my arms around a tree and waited it out. I’m not sure how long I waited, but I said a quick Rosary so I’d guess 20 minutes before it let up enough to continue. It was a bit spooky listening to the trees being blown down all around me. Once the rain let up a bit, the trail consisted of ankle deep mud with a slimy, slick under base. At one point I fell and then fell twice trying to stand up. Needless to say progress was slow and painful. Boy, it was fun. The newly fell trees across the trail also presented challenges. I left the aid station at 3:45 AM and reached the turnaround aid station at 7:12, way behind my schedule but still 18 minutes up on the cut-off. On the positive side, the sun was up and the rain had almost stopped. When I entered the aid station, there was another runner who’d decided to drop. She looked at me and asked me if I was returning. I told her I was and asked if she wanted to go with me. She looked at me kinda funny and said, “you know, I think I do.” We filled our supplies and headed back down the trail. The cut-off for the next aid station was 8:30 so we had 1:15 minutes to do the same distance I’d just spent 3:30 hours accomplishing. The odds didn’t look good, but at least we were trying.

Once headed down the trail, the rain turned into a light mist. Going mostly downhill made the trail much more manageable plus I now had the added advantage of someone else to laugh at when they slipped and went down. Unfortunately, there seemed to be many more trees across the trail, all of which had to be crawled over or under. At one point, we came upon a downed tree that all you had to do was duck your head. Just as I came up to and tried to duck, my lower back tightened up. Obviously, didn’t duck enough and ended up sliding under that one. It was a bit painful, but faster than most. Too bad I didn’t get it on tape, it could have been a winner on Funniest Home Video. Our cut-off at the next aid station was 8:30 and at some point we realized we wouldn’t make it, but we continued on hoping the RD had changed the cut-off because of the weather. We arrived at the aid station at 9:03 and were a bit disappointed to hear that the cut-offs stood. Looks like our race had come to an end, 15 miles short of the desired result.

What Worked and What Didn’t
Both my hydration and refueling strategy were dead on for this race. My stomach stayed good and I continued to pee throughout the night. For a while, I’ve been using A&D Ointment during long runs. This race proved its value. Although I was wet for approximately 18 hours, chaffing and rubbing was never an issue. If it’s good enough for a baby’s butt, it’s certainly good enough for me. For the past two months I’ve been spending two nights a week in a cross training program conducted by Weber State’s Sports Medicine Clinic. This effort certainly paid big dividends at K-M. Other than some blisters, I feel amazingly good three days later. Physically, I was very prepared for this event. Mentally, I struggled. Ultra Runners have a saying, “beware the chair.” No progress is being made sitting in aid stations. While the race conditions were certainly less than ideal, I’d guess I wasted over an hour sitting in aid stations waiting for it to improve. In other words, I blew the race sitting in a tent feeling sorry for myself. My new mantra for aid stations will be “BEWARE THE CHAIR, BEWARE THE CHAIR”. I also had lighting issues at this race. My guess is it was caused by the wet conditions, but I burned through three sets of batteries in one night. I carried one spare set with me and bummed a set at an aid station so it wasn’t critical. Perhaps, my flashlight wasn’t working correctly and I need to care a spare light.

While I can’t blame the weather for not finishing, it certainly was a factor. On the Madison news Sunday evening, they reported that Whitewater, the closest town to the race, had 9.5 inches of participation in the past 24 hours. One of the aid station volunteers told me that they’d left a bucket out all night. When they broke down the next day, they measured 11 inches of water in the bucket. The total number of finishers was way down this year. There were 123 runners and 7 relay teams entered in the 100 miler. Of these, only 37 finished for a success rate of 28.46%. Historically, this race has a 70% success rate. The conditions most likely were an issue.


A Tribute to Lisa

While waiting for the race to start, I noticed a very nice hand built bench that had been placed into an alcove overlooking the start/finish line. The bench had a brass plaque on it that said the following:

LISA J. CONOVER
June 11, 1958 – May 22, 2007
Lisa’s smile and spirit will live on in all who run the trails.


I didn’t think much about it at the time, but as the race progressed, I found myself thinking about Lisa Conover, whom I’d never met. What a special person she must have been for her friends and loved ones to build such a wonderful memorial in a place she obviously loved. Upon my return home I googled “Lisa Conover” and found the following copy of her obituary:

Lisa Conover

Tuesday evening, May 22, 2007 Lisa J. Conover died unexpectedly at
her home in Neenah, Wisconsin. She was born in Denver, Colorado on
June 11, 1958 and grew up in North Dakota. She earned her bachelor’s
degree from The University of Montana. She is survived by her
husband, Gary G. Conover, her two sons, Eric and Chad Kempen, her
mother and father Cleo and C. James Cieminski, two sisters and one
brother, Judy Cowan, Patti Lunak, and Cort Cieminski and two step
sons, Zachariah and Joshua Conover.

Lisa was passionate about her running and the deserts and the
mountains of the Southwest. She also liked people. Since 1996 she had
completed 103 ultra marathons which included thirteen 100 mile runs
and she successfully completed the Grand Slam of Ultra Running. Her
favorite 100 mile race was the Angeles Crest 100 in the mountains
outside of Los Angeles. She taught herself to swim so she could do
the Ironman Triathlon in Madison, Wisconsin in 2002.

She married Gary Conover on March 26, 1991 in Harris County Texas and
he introduced her to the deserts in Southern California where he grew
up. Lisa loved running in the deserts, even when it was well past 115
degrees, and particularly liked hiking and running in Joshua Tree
National Park. When she only wanted a short 10 or 15 mile run she
would run up Mt. Eisenhower in the Living Desert which is in Palm
Desert. She was planning to move to Palm Desert, California, so she
would be able to train every day in the desert she loved. She was
also pursuing the idea of starting a running company in Palm Desert.
Her husband crewed for her at all her races and was always
encouraging her and protective of her. Many times he would tell her
to “pick up the pace” just to make her smile. During her races their
mantra was to have fun, do the best you can in this race today, and
not get hurt.

She will be remembered by her family and friends and fellow runners
for her smile, her positive attitude, and her pony tail swinging as
she ran. And her husband will always remember her tender eyes, her
beautiful smile, and their love and friendship.

A memorial service to celebrate Lisa’s life will be held at the
Wichmann Funeral Home at 537 North Superior Street in Appleton on
Tuesday, May 29, 2007 at 11:00 a.m. In lieu of flowers her husband
requests that donations be made in her name to the Living Desert at:

The Living Desert
Attn: Shirley
47-900 Portola Avenue
Palm Desert, California 92260-9817

Like I said, I’d never met her, but several times when the weather was at its worst, I had an overwhelming feeling that everything would be ok. At least by this participant, her presence was felt, noted and most appreciated. Be at peace my friend, be at peace.