Reflections on Michael Koppy's Arrowhead 135 Attempt from a Support Crew Perspective

I knew that Michael had been preparing for this race for months.  He built his own sled and picked up all of the required survival gear, mostly on the cheap, but without sacrificing quality.  I knew that he had completed numerous 100-mile-plus ultra-marathons as well as the recent St. Croix 40 in early January.  I knew that he almost always reaches his goals. I knew that a winter run of 135 miles in desolate country in late January with 14 hours of darkness each night was new to Michael.  I knew from our conversations that he was learning something valuable each time he went out on a training run. I also knew that the Arrowhead 135 was a tough race for anyone, but especially for someone 74 years old regardless of their training and their success at other races.

We showed up in International Falls on Sunday and Michael went through the gear-check process and picked up his location transmitter.  We went out to eat and were in bed by 9 p.m. with a wake-up at 5 a.m. the following day. Michael said that he didn't sleep the best, possibly due to some unconscious nervousness about the race. We ate breakfast and showed up for the start of the race around 6:15 a.m. on the dark, cold morning.  Soon the fireworks were going off and a few minutes later the bikers left promptly at 7 a.m.  Two minutes later, the skiers left and two minutes later, the on-foot racers left the park with their sleds and red, blinky lights visible in the distance.

I met Michael at various road crossings that the Arrowhead Trail crossed.  I would walk with him for a hundred yards or so, ask him how he was doing, and snap a few pictures.  Sometimes there were a few hours between road crossings. I would monitor his progress on my phone and plan my next rendezvous.  Michael was in good spirits and feeling good on Monday.  His only complaint was the soft, mushy snow on the trail that made walking difficult and a bit frustrating.  Around 12:45 p.m., he had to pick up his sled and cross Hwy. 53 and then a set of railroad tracks.  I told him to hurry because there was a long train coming.  He got across before the train's arrival. 

I was waiting for his arrival after dark at the first checkpoint, the Gateway Store. He arrived in good spirits, ate some warm soup and a slice of pizza, replenished some supplies, and got back on the trail. It was chilly but not cold but unfortunately the snow remained soft and mushy.  As he was about to leave, I mentioned to him that many "on foot" participants were using ski poles.  He stated that he had noticed the same thing and would start using them at the next checkpoint. 

The next morning, I met him at the second checkpoint, Melgeorge's Resort on Elephant Lake.   He had blisters on his feet which were being tended to, and he was tired, but otherwise in good spirits.  One racer who had dropped out asked him if he was going to finish; Michael responded with a confident, "Oh, yeah!"  I was allowed in the cabin to speak to Michael for only a minute or two. Afterwards, I got some breakfast at the resort, but did not see him get back on the trail.  Although he was at the mid-point of the race, 67 miles, he would soon be entering the hilly section.  I saw Michael again at a road crossing later in the day. His blistered toes were not bothering him, and he was in a good mood. He was tired, but that was expected after 34 hours of exertion and almost no sleep. 

Michael's wife, Carol, and a friend, Connie, booked a room at the Fortune Bay Casino Hotel on Tuesday evening. I met them on Wednesday morning and we left to meet Michael at the first of two road crossings prior to his finish.  When we arrived at the road crossing, we learned that he had crossed it a few minutes earlier, so we missed him.  It was about 10 a.m. and we made plans to meet him at the next road crossing. The day was chilly but sunny.  We located the finish line and hung out in the lobby of the hotel. We were grateful that Michael had completed all of the hilly sections of the trail and was getting very close to the finish.

At about 12:45 p.m., my phone rang.  It was Michael stating that his back was hurting terribly and that he couldn't go on. He was about six miles from the finish line.  I told him that I would arrange for a snowmobile pick-up.  Carol, Connie, and I contemplated this for a few seconds. We knew that he was very tired physically and mentally.  We decided that he needed some Ibuprofen and a short nap.  He had six hours before the mandatory cut-off to complete a mere six miles.  He had to continue on and finish and become the oldest person ever to complete the Arrowhead 135 Ultra on foot.  We sent the snowmobiler to go check on him and to do anything possible within the rules to ensure that Michael finished this race! 

But it was not to be.

About a half-hour later, the race director spotted me and told me to get to the front doors of the hotel right away.  Michael was coming in. It was all I could to not tear up as I contemplated this.  Michael must be in an awful condition to drop out only a few miles from the finish.  He will be so disappointed! 

A newspaper reporter who had heard about the situation asked Carol how Michael would react.  She was momentarily without words.  I blurted out that he will learn what he can from this to be better next time.  He will not sulk over it.  He does not get stuck in the past with feelings of regret or depression. He is forward-oriented.  

 A few minutes later, he arrived all bundled up on the back of a snowmobile.  He couldn't get off of the snowmobile or stand without assistance.  He looked older and he could not stand upright.  His body tilted forward at about 45 degrees.  It was sad to see him in such bad condition.  A medic who was part of the rescue team told me that his lower torso muscles were totally fatigued.  There was no way he could have finished the race.  We loaded him in his truck and brought him home. He slept much of the way, not surprisingly considering he had been awake most of the past 55 hours.

I spoke with Michael the next morning.  He was feeling pretty beat up from head to toe. He also stated that he plans to do the race again next year.  He reviewed everything in his mind and knew what he needed to do differently.  He would use his ski poles from the start, and he would layover at Melgeorge's (the half-way point) for a few hours of sleep.  He also knew that the caffeine pills that he took on the last morning had caused him to go out too strong and contributed to his back problems that showed up a few hours later.  He was not angry or depressed.  He had made some mistakes, which is common to rookies in this brutal event.  He learned from his experiences and will apply that knowledge to the next Arrowhead 135.  

In the end, I was reminded of the quote from Teddy Rosevelt: 

It is not the critic who counts; ...The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

I am very proud of Michael for daring greatly, succeeding often, failing occasionally, learning from those failures, and trying again.

To honor Michael and his efforts, today I donated to his campaign in support of "The Y" (YMCA).  I hope you will too!   https://www.duluthymca.org/runkoppy