This weekend I traveled to Omer, Michigan to compete in the Witchy Wolf. Legend says that the Witchy Wolf (a werewolf-type creature) roams the plains of Omer. You don’t need to be fast; you just need to be faster than the person behind you. This race is semi-annual. The summer version has been running since 2005. The winter version, traditionally on the first full moon of the new year, began in 2006. This year was my third time running the race.

In 2008, the temperature was 0 degrees at the start. In 2009, it was a balmy 4 degrees. Both years featured at least a foot of snowfall on the day of the race. For road races, this would be a minor inconvenience in the age of snowplows. However, this is not a road race. It is a trail race. Oh yeah, it’s a fifteen mile trail race. The difficulty of the course is the main draw.

Unfortunately, this year the starting temperature was 34 degrees. No snow. Not even rain was falling. At least there was ice to challenge us.

I laughed during the pre-race instructions because the temperature was warmer for this race than it was for the Disney Marathon a few weeks ago. There are about a hundred of us lined up at the start. It is quite a sight to see all those headlamps and tail lights blinking (did I forget to mention that this trail race takes place at night?). At 6:30, we start with a howl and run for about a mile or so to the trail. The roads are slick with ice, but I can manage a decent pace if I stay on the shoulder. I hang with the lead pack for the start. I’m always nervous for this race because it’s fifteen miles, and I don’t train specifically for it. This nervousness fade within the first mile because the night is so peacefully quiet.

After about ten minutes, we hit the trails and focus a little more to maintain our footing and pace while avoiding trees and their branches. In past years, this section has been more of a hike due to the deep snow. This year, it is more of an icy crust. I slowly let the lead pack slip away, so I can run my own race. We zig and zag through the forest for a while, hit a little patch of two-track, run deeper into the forest, and settle into a pace. The lead group is still within my sight, but I’m not really a part of the pack. They pull away on the next road section, and I’m kind of relieved. As long as they were in sight, I was tempted to run faster than my training/ability would allow. Going too fast now would cause me to blow-up later in the race.

After half a mile of road, we’re back into the woods. The ground is rougher here and the going a little tougher. Before I know it, I have caught back up and joined the leaders. Then we hit a road section and they take off again. I’m surprised to come upon the aid station because there are only three on the whole course. I didn’t think I would hit one so early, but then I look at my watch and realize that I’ve been running for 35 minutes. Could I have covered five miles already? I wait ten minutes, take out my water flask, and consume a vanilla bean Accel-gel.

A short while later, I hit the exchange zone for those doing the relay. This zone is always fun for me. The runners waiting can see headlamps coming towards them, but darkness cloaks the runners. No one can see who is who. It is a cacophony of people yelling and trying to determine if it is their partner approaching. I’m curious to know if anybody from the lead pack was a relay runner, but there is no way to know. I hit the halfway point in 53 minutes and change. Whoa! I quickly do the math: 7 minute miles! I know the second half is going to be hard, but I just want to hang on.

The second half begins with a huge uphill. I’ve got a little kick from the crowds and relay runners, though. I start thinking, “Just make it to the stream crossing.” There’s a dog howling off to the left. I hope it’s a dog. I slip and slide up another hill then zigzag through the forest some more.

Finally, I reach the stream crossing. Originally, the course crossed a bridge here, but the bridge washed out in a flood sometime before I first ran the race. The bridge was never replaced because the road is more of a two-track than a road. So now, the runners scramble down the bank of a ravine. In the past, the stream has been more iced over. We still crossed on some boards or a fallen tree, but the water hasn’t been totally open. This year, it’s open water. During the pre-race instructions, the director joked that if you couldn’t cross the stream you’d have to take a two mile detour. There were three volunteers yelling, “Slow down! Walk across!” There were two small boards stretching across the stream. I have no problem taking it slow; there’s no way I want to get anywhere near that water. After crossing, runners have to climb back up out of the ravine and back into the woods.

The trail here curves around a lot. This is the section where I always questions, “Am I still on the trail?” It’s also very lonely through here because the runners tend to be very spread out. Fortunately, there are glow sticks all over the trail to make sure we stay on the path. Now I’m thinking, “Make it back to the roads.”

Every year, some of the locals have a huge bonfire somewhere between miles 12 and 13. As soon as I’m back on the two-track/road, I start thinking about the bonfire. This is my next land mark. I’m struggling to keep my pace respectable, and it feels like the bonfire is never going to come. I pass a sign that says Mile 12, but there’s still no bonfire. Did they cancel the bonfire this year? Finally, I see it up ahead. In the past, they’ve offered me some of what they’re drinking as I passed but not this year. I must be closer to the front. I know there’s only a couple miles to go now. I try to hold on as two relay runners pass me.

I can see street lights in the distance. Soon, the winner jogs by in the opposite direction and says there is less than a mile to go. I don’t want to look behind me because if I see someone, then I’ll have to try to pick up the pace. Also, if the challenger sees my headlamp turn around, then he’ll know that I’m worried. I pour on all the energy I have left and finish strong. 1:49:10. I’m surprised that RunnerGirl and OhGreatFather are not at the finish.

I make my way back to the Omer Courthouse (registration area) to find my Curb Crew. I’m surprised again that they are not there. About ten minutes later they walk in to the courthouse. “What are you doing here?” RunnerGirl asks. “Did you get hurt? Did the four-wheelers have to pick up on the trail?” I just laugh and tell her that I’m done. That I ran a good race. We sit down at a table, and I eat some chicken noodle soup to warm up as we wait for the awards. It takes a while because they wait until everyone is finished.

As we wait for the awards, I’m struck by how blessed I am to have such a great Curb Crew. RunnerGirl and OhGreatFather have given up their whole weekend to support me at this race. They’re sitting in an old courthouse in the smallest city in Michigan watching me eat soup waiting for an award. My awesome mother-in-law (MIL) has given up her weekend to sit at the rental house with my boys, so I could run this race. I’ve had some successful races, but I would be nothing without my wonderfully supportive family.

Make sure you thank the people who give you support today.

Boston Training:
Monday:5 (in the a.m.)
Tuesday: 5 with 1 mile at 6:00, 5:00 recovery, then 2 miles at 6:09
Wednesday: 6 (pushing the double jogging stroller) plus Core Work
Thursday: 7 on the elliptical trainer
Friday: 5 (in the a.m.)
Saturday: 15.5 (Witchy Wolf Race + warm-up)
Sunday: Rest Day
Total for the Week: 43.5
Total for the Year: 139.5  (3 core workouts)