|
"So how was
the Dick for you?"
I love that question. And for those
who are curious, I had a darn
nice Dick, thank-you. It took me a
little while to warm up to it but
once I got into a rhythm, it was a
heck of a ride.
I'm talking about the annual John
"Crusty" Dick 50K in Wisconsin's
Kettle Moraine. Held each year at the
beginning of February, it
celebrates the memory of a local
runner -- John Dick. Because of the
typical snow-encrusted conditions of
the trail in February, it picked
up the nickname "Crusty
Dick."
And thus, a well-loved race, with a
nickname filled with hours of
high school-humor, has become a
staple in the ultrarunning calendar
of southern Wisconsin.
The race begins and ends at a small
picnic house just north of Eagle,
Wis. (roughly midway between Madison
and Milwaukee). There, the
chili, veggie stew and other homemade
treats await runners on their
return, along with a raging fire for
warming cold feet. This was
local ultrarunner Robert Wehner's
first time as RD of the race (he
will also be RD of the Glacial 50/50
in October). He got help from
his wife Sally, course guru Tom Bunk,
and a several hardy Badgerland
Strider volunteers who stood outside
for much of a day in icy 20 mph
winds, checking off runners and
attending to their needs.
The Dick is something similar to an
FA run -- not too much pomp and
circumstance. No shirts (to take home
as a souvenir; most people did
choose to wear one or two since it
was a little chilly; though Todd
Egnarski was quite the manly man and
endured the cold winds in bare
legs), no age group awards (there is
a traveling trophy for the
overall winner), and no fancy
numbers. You do get a number to ID you
on each loop, but it is just a large
tie-on tag making everyone look
like a mannequin on escape from a
garage sale. My number was 32 --
I'm not sure if that means that I was
priced at 32 cents or $32.
After checking everyone in (roughly
70 runners or so), Robert came
outside to to yell "go!"
and lead the pack down the road and on to
the trail. The race features less
than a quarter mile of pavement
before jumping onto a narrow trail
that led people to the primary
course -- a five-mile out-and-back
(about 10 miles round-trip) that
50K runners would do three times.
Weather and trail conditions
dictate what the course will be, so
it is never set until a day or
two before the race. Generally,
snowmobile trails are used, but the
Ice Age hiking trail, as well as the
nearby cross-country ski trails
during a no-snow winter, have also
been a part of the course.
Tom Bunk and Robert Wehner finalized
this year's course the Thursday
before race day. Tom had thought
about using the Ice Age Trail this
time, since the footing would be
pretty good with the minimal snow,
but the two decided on the wider snowmobile
trail so that there would
be plenty of room for people to run
alongside each other. This is a
relaxed run where the emphasis is on
the social and not necessarily
on the competitive side of running.
And it seemed like it was going
to be an easy course -- very moderate
hills, low snow and few roots.
But there were still a few trail
enhancements to make the run a
challenge (not that running 50
kilometers isn't a challenge in
itself). During the previous week's
warm spell, the ground had
softened to mud. Without snow, trails
reverted to their summer use
as bridal trails and evidently a lot
of horses had plodded through,
leaving large hoof-sized divots that
had frozen into rock-hard
craters. It was like a mogul run for
gophers, or running atop a King
Kong-sized dimpled golf ball.
And then there was the ice. We
haven't had much snow this winter in
Wisconsin, but we did get a dusting
the night before that left a nice
ice coating over several sections of
the trail -- especially the
parts where you would go over rocks,
down a hill. Coming in for the
last time I saw a nice wipe-out mark
in the snow (or someone's
attempt at a really fat snow angel).
I later learned it was the work
of second-place female Michelle
Lanouette who literally slid through
the last mile. BTW, this was not only
Michelle's first trail race
and first ultra, but only her second
time running on the trails. Do
you think she might have an aptitude
for this sport?
About half of the five mile section
was in the woods and half across
fields. It was a very B&B kind of
trail. Going through the woods was
Beautiful. Going across the fields
was Brutal. Winds gusted over 20
mph, and with temps slowly dropping
throughout the run (with an
average of around 25 Fahrenheit)
those open fields, especially
heading north, got pretty nippy. So
much so that Paul Gionfriddo,
our elder statesman of 83, had to
drop after two loops because he had
a chill he couldn't shake. BTW, Paul
was born on Groundhog Day, so
he is also our official weather-predictor.
He says that he saw his
shadow so we should plan on bundling
up for six more weeks of winter.
Though it is primarily a social run,
a few people took it seriously,
including Craig Bunk, who flew past
the competition and took first
(sorry, I don't remember the exact
time, but I know that it was in a
time zone well ahead of mine) and
Christine Crawford, whose crabby
ankle must not have been bugging her
too much. She was one of the
top overall runners as well as the
first woman. I think her time was
close to 4:15 (my unofficial memory
-- but that is close). Robert
had to run in pretty quick as well,
since he was the race director
and needed to get back to direct,
though he said that his quads are
starting to remind him of the 51K ski
race he had done the week
before.
As for me, I had a great Dick! Going
into it, I really wasn't sure
what the day would bring. I had
muddled through the same ski race
that Robert had a week earlier and
really didn't feel too perky
there. My crabby ankle has only
recently become a joint that I could
count on, and, and... oh, you know
the usual laundry list of possible
excuses. Yadda, yadda, yadda...
Anyhow, I started out open to the
possibilities of whatever would
happen would be what happened. If I
was hurting or really beat, I
would cut the day short and head for
the chili. If I felt good after
the first loop, maybe I'd try to go a
little faster for the second.
I had no expectations, no plans.
But my legs did, and evidently the
plan was to run and so midway
through I picked it up a little and
had that wonderful feeling of
everything miraculously clicking
together in harmony. Those days are
wonderful, aren't they? The harmony
went a little of-key only in the
last mile on the trail leading back
to the finish from the loop.
Somehow the hills seemed steeper and
slipperier the second time
through and my get up and go suddenly
got up and left. But one tired
mile after 30 perky ones is nothing
to complain about.
Robert will probably have the results
at the club website soon:
badgerlandstriders.org. Thanks to him
and everyone else for their
work in putting on another fine Dick!
--
Mary Gorski
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
marygorski@sbcglobal.net
|