Run Toto Run

"You need to run this race." I'm not sure how many times I've been told that about Run Toto Run (AKA, Psycho-Wyco). The people telling me this are invariably folks who have just watched me run through a particularly nasty section of trail. I've always been a "mudder". Bad conditions slow me down, but apparently not as much as everybody else. I love running on a well-groomed trail or even (gasp!) a road, but if I want to win, I need things ugly. So, seeing that my schedule had an opening for a winter ultra, I decided this would be the year I'd give the infamous Wyandott course a try. I enter the 50K, which is the longest distance offered. It will involve 3 laps around the lake.

Map of course

I get to Wyandott the prior evening just before sunset and get in a couple miles on the trail. I've done enough orienteering events around Kansas City (including training at Wyandott Lake) to have a pretty good idea of what to expect. Peppered with short, steep climbs, the topography is similar to many of our trails in St. Louis. As it is a bridle trail, it is slightly wider than normal singletrack and the surface is rather uneven. There are a few rocks, but mostly it's dirt (or mud). At this point, the trail is thawed on the surface, but in reasonable shape. Five hundred runners and race day temps predicted in the 40's will change that. I decide I'll start the race wearing my trail running shoes, but have my orienteering spikes on hand.

I wake the next morning somewhat disappointed to find that it is barely below freezing. Certainly, it has not been cold enough to freeze the trail. While this probably further improves my chances relative to other runners, it will make it less likely that I'll break 5 hours. Times aren't taken too seriously in the ultra community since a good time on one trail may be a slow time on another of the same distance. However, in this race there is a special prize for anybody finishing the 50K in under 5 hours, and I've been using it to provide some motivation. At any rate, there's nothing I can do about the conditions. I'll stick to my strategy of taking it out hard and trying to get as much distance in before that trail turns to mush.

I arrive at the park at 7:20. The main parking lot is already full and I get the very last parking spot in the next nearest lot. It only takes a few minutes to get my things ready since I already picked up my number the night before. I don't usually warm up for ultras, but given the size of the field, I figure I might be running pretty hard right from the start to be near the front when we get onto the trail. Therefore, I jog easily for about 15 minutes before they call us up for the start.

Running across the field to the trail, I settle into the group of leaders. The pace is a touch fast, but I figure hanging with it for a few minutes will be worth it if I don't have to deal with congestion on the trail. After about 400 meters, we get to the trailhead and I'm the fifth runner onto the trail. The trail is firm for the most part and the leaders continue on at a pace that I have no desire to match. In the next mile I'm passed by a dozen or so runners while I try to sort out what pace I can realistically hold for the first lap and still have something left for the remaining two. The heart rate monitor is invaluable in these situations. It's so easy to get carried away in the early going and forget that a pace that feels very easy in the first 20 minutes will feel very different in another four hours. My target is 155 and that probably is the average, but the constant barrage of steep climbs and descents has my pulse fluctuating wildly.

After a couple miles we get a longer climb to the top of the ridge. If we stayed on the bridle path, we would then have a nice, fast run along the ridgeline to the north end of the course, but that would be entirely incongruous with the spirit of the event. Thus, the organizers have inserted the "Wyandott Triangle", an insanely twisty section of singletrack that winds down the side of the hill and then climbs back to the ridge. Then comes the big descent to the bottom of the dam, followed by the "Dam Hill", which, as you might guess, climbs back up the Wyandott Lake Dam.

After the aid station by the dam comes the only road section of the course. It's about half a mile of pavement, but it doesn't do much for my average speed because it's all uphill. Then comes the only truly fast section of the whole course. "Speed Demon Ridge" runs straight down a gentle spur. Of course, one does well to heed the warning signs posted at the bottom of the descent. The turn is know as "Nicely Done", a reference to the fact that Chris Nicely ended his race there a couple years back by taking the turn too fast and breaking his leg.

The following ascent, dubbed "Misery Ridge", is steep enough in one spot that a rope is provided. I find that grabbing a tree works just as well. From there in, it's back to the short steep undulations and there are quite a few of them encountered before the 10.3-mile lap is done. I come through the line in 94 minutes, 6 minutes ahead of 5-hour pace and feeling reasonably good about my pacing. I'll need to back off a bit, but it doesn't feel like I've overcooked it.

As expected, the trail has changed dramatically with the passage of 500 runners. However, not all the changes are for the worse. Several slick sections from the first lap have now been packed into a mix of firm ice and dirt; just the sort of thing the 12 screws on the bottom of each of my shoes like to bite into. Other sections are turning to soup, but the first part of the lap is generally fast. The Wyandott Triangle is much more difficult this go round as the many switchbacks are now coated with a slick layer of melted mud on top of the frozen hillside beneath. The big descent down to the dam is also a mess and Nicely Done is looking very much like a section of trail you could hurt yourself on.

While the conditions do have me moving a bit slower, they are also making it easier to stay focused. The middle part of a distance race is often a time when your brain checks out for a while and you end up giving away a good performance simply because you forgot to keep your foot on the gas.

Grip isn't too much of an issue for the rest of the lap, but the mud is getting really deep in spots. On one of the climbs I catch a woman in the 10-mile event completing her first (and only) lap. As she turns to look at me, she pulls her foot up but the shoe stays wedged in the mud. She collapses in laughter. I assume this is the first time she's ever had a shoe pulled off by mud. If she makes a habit of doing this race, it probably won't be her last.

I finish the lap in 1:42 (total time is 3:16), which means I'll have to run the last lap in almost the same time to break 5 hours. I forgo the shoe change, not because I have enough grip with the trail shoes, but because the mud is getting so deep that the O-shoes will be just as bad. Nothing short of railroad spikes will get to the bottom of this muck.

Despite the bad prospects, I'm reluctant to let go of the time goal just yet. I get to the Triangle roughly on pace, passing several runners in the process. The toll on the legs is severe and once on the singletrack, there is no fighting the inevitable. Every switchback brings me to a complete stop and it's only by grabbing onto to trees that I keep from sliding all the way down the hill. By the time I get back to the aid station at the end of the Triangle, I am hopelessly off pace and my legs are gone.

The mud on the rest of the loop is now comically deep. I'd normally deal with conditions like this by simply running through the woods next to the trail. However, those of us who do a lot of running off-trail know that KC has some nasty vegetation to go along with the steep hills. In most of the deepest spots leaving the trail is simply not feasible (which is part of why they are so deep - nobody can go around, so it just keeps getting worse).

With the time goal lost, I'm left with trying to preserve my position and hopefully not hurt myself in a fall. I do go down a couple times and I have to pick up the pace a bit in the last mile to hold the spot, but both goals are accomplished. I finish in 5:16:30, seventh overall, and winning the Masters (40+) division.

My car seems really far away. As I waddle over, I'm very glad I got that last spot. The next lot would have been twice as far and suddenly I don't feel much like moving anywhere under my own power.

It's a pretty good result for me. Sure, it's a full hour slower than my last trail 50K, but that was on a firmly packed trail through gently rolling terrain on a cool fall day. You really can't compare that to what went on here. In terms of field quality and general prestige, this ranks among my top running finishes. As for the event itself, it seemed to go without a hitch. Getting that many runners out on a trail is no small thing and the KC Trail Nerds did a fine job of it. Will I come back? I'm not sure. The first lap was fabulous; it's a great trail when it isn't gooped up. Unfortunately, bridle trails tend to be gooped most of the time and while running through mud is certainly part of the sport, I don't really care to do it for 3 hours straight. But that's another day's dilemma. For now, I'm certainly glad to have done it this once.