Seaton Soaker 50k - Saturday, May 12th, 2018

Make that "52k that was actually 34k".

But - just like the trilliums - who's counting?

I didn't even know if I should attempt this race, as I'd been fighting some painful lower leg dysfunction for 3 weeks prior to race day and only run about 35km in that time. It had been feeling a bit better by Friday, but more in a "I think I may be able to run a little bit in a few days" than "I'm ready to pound this thing into pudding for several hours". Nonetheless, I figured I'd go and give it a whack anyway; I couldn't get any money back or transfer/defer my bib, and Tanker was committed to working at the aid station at the 8km mark all day, so I'd just go toddle along as best I could and be prepared to drop out whenever things got too nasty. I taped the hell out of my arch, ankle and shin, packed a puffy jacket in my pack (in case I had to wait at an aid station for a ride back to the start/finish, so I wouldn't freeze to death in my wet running kit), and strapped on my trekking poles in case I needed some deployable crutches, and swung my appendages around a bit to get them used to the idea of moving.

Oh, and I dressed like someone barfed up a unicorn frappucino just to make myself smile, and funked around to RevCo's cover of "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy"

I chatted with a few people I knew who were racing, kissed Tanker goodbye as he headed off for aid station duties, lined up at the start and just went with the flow.

Following the river and all-around wonderful human being Clay, with Spidey tagging along for the ride.

The first few kilometers of the modified course for this year - with a river crossing in each direction instead of using the (under construction) bridge on the way out, resulting in an extra kilometer per out-and-back for 26k/52k total - are fairly flat and non-technical, so flow was easy to find despite a general upward elevation trend. Even at the very start on the paved downhill path to the trail itself, though, I still couldn't support any weight on the ball of my right foot without pain all the way up my right leg. So, it was flat-footed or heel-striking ultra shuffle right from the beginning, but I wasn't feeling too bad in spite of not having run for a week and a half.

I literally took this pic with my phone in the first 10mins or so to prove that I did run at least a bit.

The rain they'd been calling for all week held off, and I soon warmed up enough that I was pleased I'd left the gloves and arm sleeves I'd contemplated wearing sitting back in the car. The sun even tried to come out a bit here and there, though the morning remained largely overcast. Reaching the water crossing for the first time at 3k I was feeling ok, though I certainly wasn't upset to take a bit of a rest while I waited in the queue to enter the river.

The Pickering firefighters do a wonderful job of rigging a safety line for clumsy folks like me, and the water wasn't even cold!

Made it through unscathed, if terribly slowly.

Things got more technical after we got across the river, passing the Dog Park aid station at 3.5km and  some construction that made for a bit of dicey picking our way along the riverbank.

Ok, maybe just for me.

There was one heck of a big step up on the other side to get back on the trail, and my left quads protested greatly at being forced to hoist my chubby arse up it - I wondered how that would go if I managed to come out for another out-and-back. But, no time to dwell, as shortly thereafter you come to the first significant climb of the course. Some downed trees added to the challenge, though trail conditions were incredibly good overall: dry and hardpacked, with only a handful of muddy spots and obstacles.

Waterfowl.

Up and over the climb, then a lovely, hard-packed downhill through the vividly green spring foliage.

Maryka cruising on down.

I was still running quite a bit at this point, especially on the downhills. My complete and utter lack of training and long runs hadn't quite had the chance to catch up to me yet, so I was still rolling along pretty well...if rather slowly. Just gave me more time to enjoy the views, right?

The banks of West Duffins Creek are nearly as eroded as my run fitness.

As I came up on the hour mark, I figured it was time to start eating - it seemed like everything was going to hold together long enough to make it worth it, so I noshed on a berry coconut Bounce ball as I headed up trillium hill. This was really what I'd come for; the stunning carpet of wildflowers that make hiking all the way up that climb worth it.

This all day.

Blooming like mad!

It was around this time I actually saw the first runner coming back the other way, but it was the leader of the 15k race who had turned around at the Forestream aid station not far ahead. I pounded down the long, steep, paved hill and on to the bridge where I was greeted by a hoard of friendly faces.

Not least of whom was this scurvy dog, who had arrived minutes before I did.

I filled my water bottle and grabbed a bit more food - a tortilla chip with some guacamole, a chunk of banana, and a piece of dark chocolate - then kept on trucking.

The last section of the course - about 4.5km out to the turn-around at Whitevale Park - has something a bit unique to this race: a bunch of freakin' stairs.

The legendary Hans Maier heading for the bottom of the first staircase.

Which is not to say that all of the climbs have stairs, or even decent footing.

Things do get a bit technical in places.

There is some flat ground to be had, and the course overall is very beautiful.

Lovely footbridge in the forest

Chasing Paul up a technical climb

More eroded banks, with just a hint of sun..

It's also a lot of damn work, though, so I was just plodding along as best I could. By the 10k mark my right ankle was starting to tell me tales of woe about the mistreatment it was enduring - since I'd been doing the ultra shuffle, it was taking quite a pounding - and I'd noticed a hot spot in front of my right heel, which I thought might be due to some of the tape holding my right foot and leg together rolling up and rubbing.

Yet she persisted, and even smiled about it.
Some people's kids, eh?

I got a nice lift from some kind things other racers said to me along the way - some got a kick out of my psychedelic outfit, some mentioned they'd read my 2016 race report (when I ran the 25k), some thanked me for volunteering at the first aid station at Pick Your Poison a couple of weeks prior, and some just said supportive things about keeping on going. It really is a great big family out on the trails; that's one of the reasons I love it so much.

Stairs? Not so much.

Beautiful pine forest? Oh, yes please, mate!

I finally decided it was time for a gel around 1h40m, so popped open an Endurance Tap and knocked it back just before reaching the turn-around at Whitevale Park at 1h45m, very near the highest point of the whole course.

Dead centre here.

I was still moving ok, but my right ankle had been complaining a bit about the treatment it was receiving - soreness was developing in front of the outside of my ankle bone with every running step I took. Just to make things extra fun, I also had a hot spot in front of the inside of my heel that hurt when I walked; I figured it was some of the tape I was using to hold myself together rolling up and rubbing.

No sense in whining about it, though.

I looked to re-stock with Endurance Tap at the aid station as I'd heard they were sponsoring the race and it would be available on course - I'd only brought 3 gels with me as I didn't know how long I'd be out and figured I could grab some along the way. Whitevale only had Hammer gels, though; even if I could get past my loathing of Hammer products, they only had one flavour on offer, and it was banana.

I'm not sure I can think of anything less appealing than a fake banana flavoured Hammer gel. I grabbed a piece of actual banana, refilled my nearly-empty bottle, then set along my merry way back toward the start/finish.

However, gels weren't the only nutrition I'd brought with me. The day had come up quite warm, and I was sweating a lot despite having zipped my vest down as much as I could without it swinging loose. My fingers had puffed up quite a bit, too, telling me my electrolyte game wasn't particularly strong at the moment.

I HAVE SAUSAGE LINKS FOR FINGERS AND MY ANKLE HURTS
and for some reason I'm still smiling like an idiot.

So, I dug out my little tube of S!caps and knocked one back just past the 2hr mark, as well as a rolled-up piece of prosciutto I'd been carrying in my pocket (which was standing in for trail bacon, since I'd forgotten to pick any up). There are mixed opinions on whether or not salt helps stave off cramping in warm weather, but the salty prosciutto was undeniably delicious.

Despite the overall downhill trend to the return to the start/finish, there was still a lot of climbing to be done.

Oof.

Up and over..

Though really, it was the descending that was beating me up more. I could just walk the uphills, which only really hurt my hot spot/blister - when running downhill, I knew I was doing more and more damage to my sore ankle, possibly pounding my way into a lasting injury that would jeopardize the backpacking trip with Tanker set for the following weekend. I had pretty much decided that I'd drop when I got back to the start even before I'd hit the Forestream aid station again, which at 17k put me past my longest day of running in the prior 3 months.

Quad & ankle pain this way!

Knowing I didn't have to hurry, I took my time at Forestream, managing to snag some of the last Endurance Tap gels on offer and having another chunk of banana, as well as some gloriously cooling watermelon.

Not to mention a visit with my sweetheart.

I told everyone I probably wouldn't be back out again, grabbed one more piece of chocolate (NOMS), then started slogging my way up the big paved hill to get back on the trail home around 2h30m.

Almost the only pavement on the course

I was moving quite slowly and with almost no confidence on the trail - with my taped-up, sore ankle and tired legs I'd walk anything that looked even marginally technical to try to keep from falling or hurting myself. I actually managed to stay upright through the whole thing, though I did catch my right foot on a rock or root or something along the way back.

And sometimes the "trail" was actually flowing with water

I scarfed back a campfire s'mores flavour Gu gel around the 3hr mark as I still had quite a way to go, and picked up an Endurance Tap gel I found sitting on the trail that someone had obviously dropped - it was still fully sealed. Somewhat ironically, I managed to drop it myself as I tried to pop it into the right leg pocket of my skirt; I already had the 2 I'd picked up at the aid station in the left pocket, and was trying to accomplish the task with my hand full of water bottle. I bent down and picked it up - no easy task, that, at this point in the game - and managed to tuck it away.

Looking far more crap-together than I really am...well, ever.

I was running less and less by this point, and feeling very tired - it wasn't just my beat-up legs, sore ankle or the blister, it was my heart and lungs complaining now, too. Definitely feeling the lack of long run training in the last few months, I just meandered along taking photos as the sun started to come out more and more.

Though nothing made getting past this downed tree any easier.
A little too high to climb over, but so very low to try to duck under..

Just a bottle fill and another chunk of banana at the Dog Park aid station with 3.5k left to go. They were wonderfully encouraging folks there and I thanked them for volunteering; while the day had come up nice we had anticipated rain and cool temperatures, so it was lovely of them to offer to stand around for hours waiting on us fools to come wandering past.

Beautiful trail, but not damaged ankle friendly.

I made my way back to the water crossing, and the friendly folks there wished me well and said they'd see me soon. I replied that they probably wouldn't - despite my blue 50k bib, I was pretty damaged and not likely to be out for a second kick at the course. They all sounded so disappointed that I started to second guess myself; I had mentioned something to Tanker on my way through Forestream that I might just make my way back out there to hang with him and the whole pirate crew. Maybe I would go back out after all..

Mary Robinet and the Pickering fire fighters - enablers of bad ideas.

The sun was chasing all the clouds away by this time, and I was loving it despite being entirely too warm. I started to think about the 8.5 hour cut-off time, and whether or not I might be able to make the whole damn thing happen. Of course, that's not to say I stopped taking photos along the way..

Even getting busted doing so by one of the on-course photographers..

By the time I came off the trail and onto the paved path back up to the highschool field, it was a gorgeous sunny day and I knew - as I struggled and writhed my way out of my vest without removing my pack - that I wasn't ready to give up yet.

Though this uphill paved slog nearly made me change my mind.

I did my little half-lap of the field, then dodged off course just before the start/finish, coming in right around 3h47m. I trotted over to our car, then had to take my pack off anyway as the keys were in a rear pocket and I had some shuffling to do. I ditched my soaked wind vest and the puffy jacket from my pack, switched my tubular banana from my head to my wrist (as I no longer needed my ears covered), picked up an oatmeal bar from my cooler bag (so I'd have something substantial that was safe for me to eat if/when I stopped), then shambled my way back to the course where I'd exited and ran through the finish line.

With 4h40m to make another 26km..

I got my bottle filled again at the aid station just after the finish line, but they had no food I could touch (just peanut butter and jam on bagels). Not to worry; I had a turkey, mustard & prosciutto wrap in my pocket that I'd been saving until I either stopped or reached the 4h mark, and I salivated at the thought as I pounded my sore, tired way back down the hill away from the school. My ankle hated every single step, but noone ever said I make smart decisions.

I was so focused on being able to eat my delicious turkey wrap that I managed to blow right past the turn off the paved pathway onto the trail. Fortunately I realised this only about 50m past the turn, and as I made my way back I was able to stop another gentleman from making the same mistake.

Pictured: one idiot.

I waited until I was back in the shade of the trees before chomping into my wrap, but it was so flat and non-technical that I ended up running a bit while chewing. Bad mistake: I inhaled a bit, and started to cough. Damn it all, it was the Haliburton bacon incident all over again! The fellow whom I'd prevented from passing by the turn onto the trail actually ended up asking if I was ok, and after a bit more walking and a few sips of water I was...more or less.

Much less crowded at the construction area near 4k this time.

I really was not running much at all by this time - the water crossing had done nothing to cool my angry ankle or bothersome blister, and I was bloody well exhausted. Despite still keeping an eye to the time to see if I might be able to make it through the whole thing before the cut-off, I had essentially decided that my day would be done once I reached Forestream at 8k. It looked like that would be around 5 hours in, and would make 34km for the day; that seemed like plenty for someone already injured, and I didn't think another 3.5hrs of hammering on the sore ankle would do it any good.

I tried another S!cap at 4h15m to see if it would help at all, but while it deflated my fat fingers a bit I was still hurting all over. I ran the non-technical downhills, but walked or hiked basically everything else. I'd try running the flats, but it would only last a minute or less before my overtaxed cardiovascular system and legs would outvote my optimism. I trundled along, and just tried to enjoy the beauty and varied nature of the course.

Full sun!

Shade of the trees

Climbing again, as I'd have to make my way up the two biggest hills on the course to make it to Forestream, I was barely running at all now. I contemplated pulling out my poles, but apart from the fact I knew I was nearly done, I'd managed to mess up my left shoulder somehow on Thursday while getting groceries (because I'm awesome like that, don'cha know?) and didn't know if it would even be able to take the pressure of poling. I pulled the top off the Endurance Tap gel I'd picked up off the trail around 4h45m and knocked it back, hoping it would give me enough of a boost to make it up. When I finally came to trillium hill, though, all thoughts were forgotten as I simply tried to take in the incredible beauty that is a carpet of flowers in full spring sunshine.

This right here was totally worth it.

Sore, tired, and nowhere else I'd rather be.

Cresting the hill at the highest point on the course, I noticed the lookout off to my left. With no reason to rush now, I figured why not go have a gander?

Though the benches themselves did look rather tempting..

Yowza.

That little flash of paler colour at the bottom left? That's West Duffins Creek. This offered some real perspective on how much climbing I'd done since the water crossing at 3k, when I'd obviously been right down at river level.

Now it was just a matter of dragging my exhausted, beat-up body along the top of the ridge. From all my stops to take photos and the huge drop-off in my ability to run anything other than mild downhills, my idea of finishing up by 5hrs had evaporated. I knew I didn't have far to go, though, so toughed it out as best I could.

Pretty glad I didn't have to take that trail off to the left, though part of me wanted to go explore..

Then down, down, down the long paved hill into the welcoming arms of the Forestream aid station, where people would be kind to me and even feed me.

My finishing chute.

Words cannot adequately describe just how much my ankle hated that pavement, but damn it all I was determined that I'd run it in even though I was quitting.

Still not a good decision maker.

So, no official time, but unofficially my Garmin says I did about 34km in just shy of 5h15m.

You can see all the gory details of just how slow and pathetic I was here.

I hung out at the aid station for a fair while, eating the oatmeal bar I'd picked up at the car as well as some banana chunks and chocolate from the table, and chatted with Tanker and the other volunteers about the day. Everyone was very sweet about not telling me I was a complete idiot for coming back out (or for that matter, even starting the damn race), and they all agreed that I'd done the right thing by shutting it down. Having taken 1h25m to reach Forestream - right at 8k - and only having 3h15m left for the other 18km of the course, odds are I wouldn't have made the cut-off anyway. I hoped I hadn't messed myself up too badly already; I was petrified I'd jeopardized the backpacking trip as it was.

I got a ride back to the start/finish about an hour later - feeling a bit chilled in the cool breeze despite the sunny day and having donned my wind jacket - when another racer came into the aid station and decided his day was done. His wife was waiting for him there, so I was able to catch a lift without having to take any of the volunteers away from their duties, and had time to cheer on several people as they came through on their final lap of the course.

I had one of the best showers ever back at Pine Ridge High School - great water pressure and bordering on too hot - after the horrible experience of stripping off all the tape that was holding me together. I'd run a strip up either side of my posterior, from the top of my hamstrings to the small of my back in order to support my glutes as I hiked; of course this was the ONE TIME that I didn't sweat the adhesive loose, and tearing it off was one of the worst things I've ever experienced.

I didn't even take photos of that, nor would I post them here if I did.
Here's a trillium.

It was great to be clean and in dry clothes! Heading back out to the start/finish after slathering myself in arnica, applying a blister dressing to my wounded foot, and slapping on some compression socks to try to support my sore ankle, I cheered in other racers and chatted with some friends. I had found a bruise behind my toes on my right foot that I hoped was just from catching my foot earlier and not from a tear in a tendon or ligament - fortunately it hasn't got any deeper or angrier looking, so I think it's just superficial.

I was a little bit bitter about not being able to finish to get the race-branded tubular bandana that is offered to those who complete the course, but in a massive stroke of generosity a fellow racer actually gave me hers! It was a girl named Steph with whom I'd run a bit and chatted while on my first out-and-back, who knew I'd started the race injured and was amazed I'd gone out for even part of a second lap. When I said I was a little upset about not getting the bandana, she offered me the one she'd just received, saying that I'd earned it! I tried to refuse, but she insisted - said she already had the same one from last year, and that a friend and her had started a tradition of making each other finisher medals when they didn't have any at this race in 2017. I thanked her profusely - what an awesome gesture!

I duly used it on my very next run - thanks so much Steph!

It actually turned out that I wasn't in nearly as bad shape as I'd thought. My ankle was basically fine the next day, and as for the stupid calf/shin injury? I must have jarred something loose, as it felt BETTER the next day - and since - than it had before the race! I don't really recommend running for more than five hours as a way to cure a lower leg issue, but here we are.

In the end I have been sore for a few days - my quads were absolutely destroyed by all the downhill pounding with no real acclimatization. However, I would have been sore anyway - running for several hours tends to have that effect, injured or not. I'd have been quicker and would likely have finished the thing had I not had the lower leg issues that caused me to be severely under-trained, but on balance I'll say it was worth going out anyway...if only to see the sunshine on the trilliums.