Potato Creek Trail Run 2012: Marathon Race Report and How I Won (Almost Sort of)

The Potato Creek Bagpiper. Very cool way to kick off a race.

This was my A race of the spring season. It had been the primary focus and objective for spinning my legs trail mile after trail mile, hitting the gym hard, putting in cross training, eating healthy, getting sleep, and all those painful interval workouts. All that stuff paid off hard. Not only was I able to complete my first marathon (and on the trails) but I won. That's right, let me say it again because it feels awesome. I WON A MARATHON!

Let's start from the day before the race. Ben and I traveled from Indy north to Potato Creek State Park. We figured pleasing the trail gods by camping would be in our best interest. Also, making a 3 hour drive prior to an 8 AM start didn't seem like a good idea. Camping is cheaper than a hotel. We both worked half days and arrived late afternoon to set-up camp and meet up with the race director. He told us a little about the race, we chatted, helped set up, and went out to the only dining establishment in Lakeville, IN, The Buffalo Rose. We were skeptical, but it was a gem of a restaurant. They make pizza, tacos, burritos, burgers and sliders. Also had a decent craft brew selection for those of you who are into that. The food was excellent and they were even nice enough to bring our table a complimentary plate of their newest specialty Buffalo Rose sliders.

Ben and I headed back to camp and made a fire. I cooked up some sweet potatoes to carb load without overloading and called it bedtime around 10. It got cold, down in the low 40's to high 30's. We were car camping so traveled in comfort, each man in their own tent. However, I was really uncomfortable and the campground was loud enough to keep me awake until 12:30. Somehow I managed about 4 fitful hours of sleep and got up as planned at 5 AM. I worked some magic on the propane stove and whipped up some gritty cowboy coffee and ate a CLIF bar. I took in the luxury of a hot shower and got in gear for the race. It was supposed to have rained over night and there was never more than a light drizzle. We checked the radar and the storm looked due to hit at race time. It was still cold and this worried me a bit.

We got to the start/finish to finalize gearing up for the race at 7:40. I loaded up my vest with gels, salt tabs, iPod nano, honey stinger waffles, wipes, and a handkerchief. I made a last minute decision to put together a drop bag of dry clothes in case it got too miserable out there and so I missed the pre race meeting (never ended up using the bag). Luckily I got the gist of the details the night before, pays to be friends with the RD. At 7:55 the bagpiper played Amazing Grace, a running reverend gave the invocation, and BOOM the RD shot off a potato cannon to signal race start. At this exact moment the skies burst open with cold rain and much to my surprise stinging sleet. Luckily only the first quarter mile is relatively unprotected from the tree canopy. So my first marathon would be spent soaked to the bone in the cold.

Ben and I started as the front runners so we could say we were the leaders at one point, but let all the fast runners fly by. It was hard to hold back and maintain a 9:30 pace, but I was shooting for 10's the whole race so knew I absolutely had to. I had no idea what races the other runners were doing. There was a half marathon, full marathon, and 60k (39 mile) all going on at the same time on the same trails. This is interesting as it keeps you in the dark as to what place you might be. My goal was to finish strong and come in around 4:20 or better.

The first 6 miles were all on hiking trails, mostly crushed gravel double track, short connector sections of single track, and a few grass trails. This portion of the course also had the biggest hills, of which there are two, one being the highest point in the county. I only walked the second half of the longer hill in order to keep my heart rate down. Ben and I ran most of these 6 together chatted and had fun. As we were exiting the hiking trails and headed toward the more difficult mountain bike course for the second half of the first loop (13.1 miles), I stopped to water the trees and lost him, which was fine. I refilled my handheld at the aid station and headed into the mountain bike trails with full expectations of picking up the pace. My absolute favorite type of trail is rolling twisting single track. Mountain bike courses are perfect examples. I approached this portion of the course as being "my jam" and focused in. Within the first mile I caught up to Ben, yelled BOO and took off past him. Don't worry he wasn't running slow and we weren't racing each other. He ran the 60k event and took a solid 3rd place finish in under 7 hours! I came up on a few conga lines of people, but never found one with a good pace and passed everyone as politely as possible. I would tell them I'm passing and sprint past to the left just off trail. I exited the mountain bike course and seemed to have shocked the RD a bit. He saw me go into the mountain bike trail and razzed asking if I had stopped to take a dump. He saw me come out many spots ahead and said good work. I buzzed by the Nature Center aid station, filled my bottle and snagged a couple of gels.

Up to this point I had been eating a gel every 30 minutes on the dot. I decided at that moment I would up it to every 20 for the second half of the race and hoped to pick up the pace as well. I was all alone and would not see another runner for the entire second lap of the hiking trail section. I put in an earbud and tried to que up some tunes, but my hands and gloves were soaked. Touch screens don't take so well to this. I stripped off a glove with my teeth careful to not let it turn inside out and still had trouble because nothing I had was dry, NOTHING! Somehow I got the Girl Talk - All Day album to start and let it be. I had spent days constructing a play list for this race, but it wasn't going to happen. At this point I felt fantastic and had no doubts about finishing. In fact, I started to choke up a bit at the thought and had to force a smile to stifle the pending tears.

On the second loop all runners are required to check in at the aid stations (prevents course cutting to a degree I guess). As I approached the Peppermint Road station I yelled, "Scotty Scott, I need your help." Scott was manning the station alone and sheltering the weather in his truck. "Scott, I need you to fill this bottle and get two of the white pills out of this bag. My hands and gloves are wet and I can't open it." In the bag I had my S! caps (salt tablets) and knew I needed to get a dose in. I had gotten the bag out a mile earlier only to realize I wouldn't be able to open it without stopping and stripping off my gloves again. I was way to concerned about keeping pace and had made friends with Scott the night before as he came out to the Buffalo Rose for dinner. Scott was awesome and came running out to greet me prior to the station so he could grab my handheld. I gratefully took the caps, chugged some HEED, checked in, and took off. A super efficient stop and still not another runner in sight.

Scott, testing out the trail cams. Thanks for helping me fuel up!

The Potato Creek RD, better known as Senator Brett (@senatorbrett). Thanks for hosting a great race!

I had been feeling it coming on for a while and hoped it would pass, but the urge returned. Without a doubt I needed to make another bathroom stop, this time for the number 2 variety. I ran a long open section of the hiking trails without seeing another human and decided at the next turn to leap 10 yards off trail and drop shorts. I always always carry a ziploc with toddler wipes. I took care of business in record time and skipped off feeling lighter and faster. This was mile 17. The rest of the hiking trails were uneventful and pleasant.

I came up to the Nature Center aid station and hollered ahead that I was coming. One of the awesome aid station workers filled my handheld, another ripped a gel top off for me at my request. I sucked down the gel and some HEED (I made sure to chug 2 cups at every aid station) and headed into the last leg of my race, the mountain bike trails. Again I was all alone and the only runner I had seen was a gentleman headed into the hiking trail section as I left. I had met him pre race and knew he was a marathoner. I gave him a giant grin and a fist bump as we passed. I think it made me feel better than it did him. He later told me after the race that I looked like I was flying. Runners are great people.

My plan was to run this final 6.5 miles with everything I had, but my hamstrings were starting to tighten up and feel just a bit burned out. By mile 22 they were hurting and I found myself wanting to take walk breaks. I took one at mile 22 just long enough to take a gel and recognize that with every step I was setting a new distance PR. I convinced myself I was almost done and could take any amount of pain for the last 4 miles to get a strong finish. Also, I SAW ANOTHER RUNNER COMING! "Oh shit what do I do" I thought to myself. It was a female runner who looked strong. I saw her behind me during some long switchbacks and estimated she was trailing by less than a minute. I had no idea what position I was in, but was determined not to lose it. I worked hard to get what I had. I should be honest, I especially didn't want to lose a spot to a girl. I trudged forward and started formulating a plan. I expected her to catch me, and she did. The last I looked at her, she was about 20 yards behind. Within 20 seconds I could hear her splashing through the muddy single track right on my tail. First off, I purposely refused to look at her. If she wanted to pass she would have to take it from me (this was tight single track). I slightly increased pace and wondered, "might she have burned up trying to catch me and will she fall off?" Half a minute later she was still knocking on the door. I had refused to look at my Garmin for anything more than elapsed time over the past few miles so I could know when to eat. This meant I didn't know exactly how many miles were left. From the best of my memory of landmarks I estimated we had about 2+ miles to the finish.

This is the runner who was coming up behind me and spurred my end of race surge. Turns out she wasn't a marthoner and finished a strong 60k placing second only a few minutes behind the winner. She is running over the infamous boulder pile I kept looking for as I knew it meant the end was nearing.

At this moment I decided to grit down and go. This was a fucking race and I was going to race with everything I had left. My handheld was empty, tunes were killed, and had popped my final gel half a mile ago. I cranked it up to the next gear and focused on nothing but the trail 15-20 feet ahead. Everything else became a blur. Much to my surprise, my legs felt better running faster. All that interval work paid off. It felt like I was running 8 minute miles (though I knew it not to be true, but still refused to look at my Garmin). There was nothing to do at this point but run. Not once did I turn around, but I knew she was gone and wasn't planning to keep up. When I made the decision to surge, I knew there was a possibility of burning up entirely and having to walk, but my cardio was spot on and my legs felt the best they had all day. "When am I going to reach the boulder pile I kept thinking," as I was desperately hunting down all the landmarks I could remember from the first lap. I soon enough found the spot and blazed across the boulders without faltering a step. Eventually I came out of the mountain bike trails and felt an adrenaline rush. All I had to do was run by the Nature Center aid station one last time and then a short 1/4 mile connector trail to the finish. I had zero intention of slowing down to check in and yelled "Josh Baker, number 5, going in for the marathon finish" and that's when I saw him. There was another runner ahead. My first thought was he must be doing the 60k and about to turn off for his final 13 mile loop. He didn't turn and headed toward the finish! He heard me shout my off my check-in and turned back to see me sprinting. The only thing he could do was turn toward me as I passed and say, "you got this."

I came careening into the finish, slammed down my handheld and collapsed. The flood gates opened and all those tears I had been choking back came pouring out. Never have I felt so fantastic or accomplished. As I sat and cried in disbelief that I had been able to overcome my issues with alcohol to finishing a marathon, I was overcome with gratefulness for life. The race volunteers all looked at me kind of funny. I assumed it was because I was crying. The RD's pup was there and he came and licked the tears from my face, and an older gentleman walked over with what I assumed was my finishers medal, but he had something else. A trophy? He leaned down and said, "Here, this is for you."

"No it's not, it can't be" I said seeing that it was a first place trophy.

"You earned it, you won the marathon" he said back to me and put the medal around my neck and the trophy in my hands.

Now the tears were back and the situation increased in the volume of surreal. I've never won a sporting event in my life. The volunteers asked how many marathons I had ran and I told them how this was my first. I was an open book and related how I had recently overcome some issues with drinking and focused my efforts on running and being healthy. I desperately needed a hug and asked if it would be alright. Of course it was I and gave every one there a hearty embrace, stumbled off to the car and called my mom.

Post race collapse, the furball is Steve.

Dining on a glorious fare of hotdogs and home made cupcakes. My life changed in another way that day as I was introduced to the cupcake sandwich. Never will I eat a cupcake the same way again. This woman was a secret fan of the Hoosier Trail Runner (a.k.a. 60k Ben).

The race has been over for a few days and the official results posted. It turns out I didn't win. I came in second. Not exactly sure what the scoop is. I think there was some suspicion of course cutting or they thought the guy who came in ahead of me was a slow half marathoners. I honestly don't know, but I have the trophy that says otherwise and anyone who wants to take it is welcome to try. The moment can never be taken away. I'm still a rookie runner and have no where to go but forward. I will get better, faster, stronger, and smarter. I will be back to Potato Creek next year and I will be aiming for victory. I don't care that I didn't actually win. I achieved all my goals and know I have so much more to give to the trail. These feet have a lot of miles to cover.

Moment of Glory: My official finishing time was 4:21:46 (9:59 average per mile). I placed 2/11 and my last two miles were the fastest of the entire run, 9:18 and 9:16. 

I got the scoop from race mom (the race director's wife who was heading the start/finish line) and it turns out she had left for 10 minutes to pick up a son from his soccer game. The superb volunteers working the finish line were a bit overwhelmed at my finish, and didn't know the real winner had beaten me there by 40 minutes, that dude smoked the course. I hope I get to race him again next year.

Official Potato Creek Website. Find the official results and keep tabs for signing up in next years race. I want you all to race with me.