Meandering

Have I ever told you what my favourite part is about running?

Here's a big hint.

Sure, it's a great way to strengthen your cardiovascular system and bone structure, and of course it does a decent job of keeping me from getting fat(ter). For some people it's a social activity - getting out with a friend (or group) for a run can be lots of fun. You can raise money for great causes, or simply get some "me" time to decompress from a stressful day.

My favourite part, though, is exploring.

Particularly on some of the lesser-traveled trails.

One of the things I missed the most this spring - whilst trying to recover from my devastating (and sort of ongoing) ankle injury - was the ability to just take off into the woods to chase some sketchy line I'd spotted on a map, or see what lies beyond some tiny trailhead I'd noticed while driving past. I'm incredibly grateful to have rebuilt my fitness to the point that I am largely able to set off for points unknown, confident that I'll be able to explore as much as I desire. 

Ooh - where does this go?

I know that I could do so simply by hiking, but even at my fairly glacial training paces I'm able to see so much more than I would simply by walking.

More views like this? Yes, please.

I actually put this all into action on Sunday, when I decided to go run a bit of trail on the outskirts of Riverside Park that I hadn't seen in a few years.

On a beautiful sun-drenched evening.

It clearly isn't a very popular route to get out the east end of the park on the north side of the Speed River.

Just a titch overgrown in places.

The groomed ease of the Mill Run Trail on the south side of the river certainly gets much more traffic, but most of my alternate route was flowing and non-technical.

I could run stuff like this forever.

It gave a whole new set of views of the river, too, as it wound along its bank above the northern arm of this divided section of the Speed.

Sun and shade and a river to the right.

Of course, it didn't all go perfectly - it turns out that a hundred metres or so near the eastern terminus are more bog than trail.

Grateful I wore wool socks and shoes with excellent drainage.

I have to wonder whether this section would be better or worse in the frozen depths of winter.

I may have to come back and see!

All too soon, I reached the end of this little diversion at the park entrance off Speedsville Road.

Umm, they might want to think about extending that boardwalk...by a LOT.

While this was just a tiny bit of trail - I ran most of the Mill Run Trail out from the other side of Speedsville and back to the park to net a mere 8km - but the distance wasn't the point. It's the glorious freedom to set off wherever my feet end up taking me, to find new routes and experiences along the way.

Happiness.

If you're stuck in a rut, tramping the same old routes week in and week out, I strongly encourage you to do a bit of investigating and find yourself a new place to discover. While it's important to do the training necessary to prepare for upcoming races, almost every schedule should allow you an easy day once in awhile to go explore a new place and see what kind of beauty you can unearth either far from home or right under your nose.

Counting Down

I don't make good decisions.

Though running on the Mill Run Trail at sunset is almost always a safe bet.

My right ankle is still being whiny and uncooperative, now a full 7 months removed from the idiot incident that did the damage. Some might posit that participation in events totalling more than 220km since then might have something to do with the continuing discomfort, particularly since I've been undertrained for essentially all of them...but why should we let good sense get in the way of having a bit of a laugh, right?

There are trails to chase!

Flowers to sniff!

Since the two weeks I took off after Tally in the Valley (partly due to our 5-day canoe tour), I've actually managed to get some pretty decent training in.

173.2km over 7 weeks, two of which were mostly rest weeks.

I'm feeling stronger again, and it's an amazing time of year to be out on the trails.

Summer's second bloom is upon us.

So, maybe I might not be totally foolish in having signed up for the Horror Trail 6-hour..?

Don't answer that.

I figure it works out perfectly - I have the Sticks n'Stones 50k on October 6th, then Horror Trail on October 27th, then The Beav 50k on November 10th.

Four weeks from Haliburton to Sticks n'Stones.

Three weeks from Sticks n'Stones to Horror Trail.

Two weeks from Horror Trail to The Beav.

How bad could it be?

Since that makes almost 150km of racing (well, depending on what conditions are like - both the trail and my own - for the 6-hour) in 5 weeks, though, I don't think I'll be looking for another event on November 17th to complete the countdown.

I'll see whether or not I even feel like running then.

Really, this is all happening because I'd really hate to miss out on Horror Trail - this will be my 9th consecutive year running it, and it holds a special place in my heart as my first ultra ever. I'd already been signed up for Sticks n'Stones and The Beav (love those Happy Trails Racing events!) since before I was injured, and it's not like I have any performance goals - just finish upright and undamaged.

Besides, if I can pull it all off it should give me a decent head start on my base for next year. Crossing my fingers that my body is on board with this all, as I've got some big ideas for 2019..

Let's just hope they have a leg to stand on.

Whips and Buckles

With my own 100 miler aspirations for Haliburton this year crushed by an injury which has yet to properly heal, I considered other options this spring. Run the 50k, then volunteer? Just volunteer? Tanker would be working at Aid Station 5 all day and all night as he did last year, so I knew I'd be up in the forest for the weekend anyway and not running at all just seemed...wrong.

Not going to the forest at all just isn't an option.
How else would I have seen this stunning sunset on Friday evening over Clear Lake?

So, when a fellow named Bryan posted that he was looking for a pacer for his first 100 mile attempt, I made an offer. This was back in May, and while I'd DNF'd at 34k at Seaton Soaker, I was confident I'd be able to run 40km to bring him home from AS7 to Base Camp. I've done the trail in that direction twice now (training run #2 last year, plus the 2nd half of the 50 miler I ran last September), so I have at least some clue of where I'm going and what to expect, and I figured I can yap all night and keep someone from wandering off course, falling asleep, or being eaten by wolves while hallucinating. After a bit of messaging back and forth, it was a done deal.

We took Friday off work and drove north to the Haliburton Forest & Wildlife Reserve, arriving around 4pm to check in at the boiler room and chat with the legions of friends arriving to race, crew, volunteer and pace. Tanker and I also took a walk over to see the sled dogs and chat with one of their handlers - I'd heard them howling before, but we'd never gone over to see them.

Then we got captured as we returned to the Boiler Room.
Photo credit: David Sweeney

Somewhat importantly, I also managed to find Bryan and meet him for the first time - we talked a bit about his strategy for the race, with me imploring him to move as efficiently as possible through any stops at aid stations or base camp, and to start off at a this-seems-far-too-slow easy pace in the morning to avoid going out too hard. It's easy to get excited and burn up your legs in the early miles when you feel fresh, but patience pays excellent dividends in long races.

When the 100 miler dinner started at 6pm (and Tanker disappeared with Merle for dinner, as volunteers get fed for free), I went for a walk to see the forest's pet moose Hershe.

I somewhat interrupted his dinner.

I milled around Base Camp a bit more, catching up with some friends new and old, then once the 100 mile dinner wrapped up Merle led us out to his beautiful mini cabins on Clear Lake for the evening.

They avoid needing building permits by being under 96sqft each.

Merle and Erv (another AS5 volunteer) would be staying in the sleeping cabin on the right, while Tanker and I were generously offered the queen size bed in the loft of the kitchen cabin.

You'd never believe from looking how much there is inside here!

Attic bed above the pantry, stove and sink, with a small fridge to boot!

Perched on the edge of the loft - the ladder hangs on the wall on hooks when not in use to maximize floor space.
The blue squares by my left foot are very comfortable chairs.

While Merle and Erv said they were likely going to turn in, Tank and I couldn't resist the waiting wood pile and inviting ring of Muskoka chairs around the fire pit.

Honestly, who could?

Perfection on a chilly evening.

Around 10pm, after I'd had myself a bit of dinner (I made a big batch of chicken fried rice before we left on Friday and reheated some on the gas stove in the cabin), we made sure the fire was safely out and climbed the ladder to our luxurious accommodations.

Great bed - even better company.

Merle had said he'd wake us at 6am by starting breakfast, but like the masochist I truly am I rose at 4:45am instead to do the 6-odd mile drive from the cabins down the East Road to Base Camp to see the start of the 50k, 50 mile and 100 mile races. I managed to spot quite a number of people I knew in the darkness and wish them luck, including giving Bryan a hug before the starting ceremonies began.

The traditional pre-race prayer, with me in the olive hoodie at right.
So many chilly bodies and stomachs full of butterflies!
Photo credit: David Sweeney

Once the racers were on their way, I drive (carefully) back through the forest under lightening skies to find Merle, Erv and Tanker in the kitchen cabin, and a hot breakfast of turkey bacon and eggs waiting for me to go with the couple of slices of (allergen free) bread I'd brought. Talk about the royal treatment! There was even hot coffee, but I declined a cup as I wanted to try to get in a bit more sleep after the boys headed out for AS5, which they did at 7am. Now alone, I climbed the ladder once more and leaned a pillow up to block the light coming through the window at the head of the bed, then dozed until 9:30am.

The sun just rising over the treeline behind the cabins before I headed in for a nap.

I awoke to a chilly but beautiful morning by the lake. This time I did have a cup of coffee, along with the rest of the chicken fried rice. Pro tip for cold mornings: cold brew coffee doesn't have to be served cold! I heated it up in a pan on the gas stove and enjoyed a lovely hot breakfast in the sunshine by the fire pit.

I disturbed this little fellow from a nap in the sun, and heard no end of chattering about it.

After breakfast I got down to work a bit: pulling our down quilt down from the loft to pack it into its bag, and arranging all of my running kit so it would be easy to throw on later. I also rooted through all the clothes I'd brought with me to see if I could stand to get some of them wet without having to put on damp things after running, as Merle had generously offered me the use of his kayaks to explore the lake from his dock at the cabins. I figured my sun shirt would be ok - I had another non-running longsleeve shirt with me and could use the protection - and the wool leggings I wore to sleep in shouldn't be needed again. By 11:30am I had donned a PFD, pulled a paddle out of the shed, and was launching a bright yellow yak onto Clear Lake.

Looks lovely and calm

I was only planning to paddle for a half hour - I knew I didn't want to tire myself out before my pacing duties in the night, and it had been about 4 years since I last paddled a kayak. I headed out onto the smooth water, feeling a brisk breeze as I headed south from the dock to explore a bit, then turned west toward the far end of Clear Lake.

About halfway to the far side.

I noticed as I paddled that the boat was starting to surf more and more on following waves, which boded poorly for the return trip. When I turned toward the north shore and took a look, it became apparent that I had reached the windy end of the lake, and the chop was definitely picking up.

Ooh..

I decided then and there that the far end of the lake would have to wait for another day, as I'd be beating upwind all the way back to Merle's dock and conditions were getting more dicey by the minute. While I'm confident in my paddling skills, the whitecapping waves were starting to spray over the bow and into the cockpit, and being alone with noone to contact in case of an emergency (there's precious little cellular service in the forest, and none at AS5) meant taking risks would be foolish. I made a bit of a sketchy crossing to the north shore, then hugged it on the way back to the east end of the lake to avoid the worst of the chop.

Which mostly worked until I got to an open bay on the north side, from which point I simply had to put my back into it.

Fortunately I was able to make it back without incident, though slightly soggy and definitely after expending more effort than I would have liked. I'd also been out longer than I wanted; it was an hour from the time I pulled the boat from its cradle until it was safely stowed away once more. My lower back and hip flexors were a bit sore from hard paddling and trying to keep the boat directly into the wind, and I'd worked up some decent-size blisters on the inside of both thumbs. I wondered how those would feel when carrying my hand bottle and using my trekking pole out on the trails..

Back in the calm, shallow waters by the dock - can't say I regret going, as it was a beautiful day filled with sunshine and loonsong.

I changed and had another bite to eat (a half-sandwich I'd made before we left so I'd have a lunch for Saturday), leaving my soaked leggings on a Muskoka chair in the sun to dry and soaking up some of its warmth myself. My drinking water situation dictated that I get on the road fairly quickly, as I only had a little over a litre left out of the 6+ litres I'd brought out to the cabins the night before. Back in the car to drive the East Road again, this time with dappled sunlight through the trees making it impossible to see all the protruding rocks and potholes that threatened our little hatchback's suspension. Here I'd thought it was a tough drive in the dark!

Beautiful but rather like a rally stage.

Back at Base Camp around 1:30pm, I filled water containers from the tap in the camping area and spent an hour or so conversing with other runners, crew and pacers before grabbing my nalgene and walking the ~2km out to Aid Station 2. Bryan's brother Tyler had let me know their mum & dad would be coming to Base Camp from their accommodations in the town of Haliburton around 3:30-4pm to see Bryan at the turn-around for his 2nd out-and-back, and I hoped if I made it out to AS2 before 3pm I could catch my runner before he set out on his second Normac loop. Leaving at 2:40pm for a brisk stroll put me there right on schedule.

I had to put my insulated vest on as soon as I stopped moving, though - I don't think it got above 14c in the trees.

The theme for AS2 this year was superheroes, and I found them all in high form when I arrived.

All aid station volunteers are superheroes in my mind!

To say nothing of the hilarity that ensued when Steve H showed up without a costume, then donned one that had thoughtfully been loaned by Wanda P.

You know Wonder Woman - now meet Hunner Woman!

I ended up hanging out at AS2 for quite awhile, trying to offer a hand to runners here and there, greeting those whom I knew and cheering for everyone. I was starting to get a bit concerned, though, when Bryan hadn't arrived by 5pm...and I'd heard some reports that it didn't look like he was doing well.

At 5:20pm he came through, looking a bit haggard from the first 68km but determined to continue. He said he'd forgotten his Voltaren in his car, so someone gave him a tube and he rubbed down his quads while scarfing back a piece of bacon. We sent him off to Normac, then I scooted out of there on foot to get back to Base Camp to let his family know he was ok, just a bit behind the schedule he'd originally estimated. I was hoping he'd just heeded my advice about going out easy in the early hours, and that patience in the first half would pay off in the second.

Around 7:20pm, Bryan came through the start/finish to commence the second half of his race.

One lap down - one to go.

His whole family and I worked to pit crew him through a change of clothes and hydration pack, moving supplies from one vest to the other and getting his jacket, headlamp and poles ready to go. Knowing that fingers don't work worth a damn after 13+hrs on the trails, I unpinned his number from his shorts and re-pinned it onto his trousers, which I was happy to see him wearing when he emerged from the tent - it was predicted to drop to 2c overnight with a frost warning, and it looked like he'd mostly be walking.

Almost ready to head out - sorry man, I take terrible photos when I'm rushed!

After a few life-giving bites of a hamburger his mum had brought from the Cookhouse, Bryan set off at 13h32m race time with just under 16.5hrs to make the cut off. He'd moved through the 12k from AS2 to Normac and back to Base Camp at approximately 10mins per kilometer.

This one was gonna be close.

I jumped back in my car to head out to Merle's cabins one last time, stopping at AS2 to let them know Bryan was on his way and would need his headlamp out of the back of his pack before he hit the Normac loop. It also seemed he'd have a pacer for the way out: a girl named Erica had come to pace Jack J., but he had dropped at 50 miles as he was feeling the effects of an oncoming cold and knew he wouldn't be able to make cut-offs. She had generously offered to accompany Bryan out to AS7, which made me very happy - with as little slack as he had to make the 30hr finish time and darkness on its way, some motivational company would be the best thing for him. I thanked her and then got on my way to mile 6.

My original plan had been to hang at Merle's until around 9pm, having a bowl of oatmeal at 8-ish (as I'd originally expected to meet Bryan at AS7 around 11pm), then head back to Base Camp for 9:30pm and seek a ride out to the far turn-around. Having chatted with Rhonda E. and Trish B. I now knew there was a stove I could use to make my oatmeal at Base Camp (they had one set up to make soup for Jeremy F., who was out racing the 100 miler as well), so I took the opportunity to change into my running kit in the not-quite-as-cold-as-a-portajohn cabin, throw warm layers on over top (I was glad I'd brought fleece sweatpants, a light down jacket and my new OUTRace toque!), and then loaded all our kit - other than the stuff Tank had with him at AS5 - into the car. Thankfully Merle had been by and left a note so I didn't forget to collect my now-dry wooly leggings off the Muskoka chair!

One last look at stunning Clear Lake

A fifth trip of the East Road by car got me back to Base Camp by around 9pm, after a stop at AS2 to see how things were going. It turns out Bryan had declined Erica's company for the Normac loop (who refuses a pacer?), but they would try to pressure him into having her along for the other 28km out to the far turn-around. I once again thanked Erica and all the AS2 volunteers for their generous assistance, and headed for the start/finish.

I parked in the group camping area and immediately set about making myself a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of hot chocolate. I'd had nothing hot to eat since 10am, and it was already getting sharply cold as full darkness settled in with a clear sky full of a million points of twinkling light. After I'd eaten, I settled in at the camp fire (finally sitting down for the first time since lunch after kayaking) and started doing some reconnaissance work to figure out how I'd be getting out to AS7 at any kind of reasonable time: I didn't particularly want to drive out and leave my car there, as that would rely on catching a ride out to retrieve it in the morning...but I also didn't want to be left waiting for hours in just my running kit (even with a puffy jacket I planned to stow in my pack, a skirt and calf sleeves are not really advisable attire for standing around near the freezing mark).

I was perfectly comfortable in my fleece pants, down jacket and toque 'round the fire at Base Camp, though!

It looked like my best bet would be to catch a ride with Rhonda E. and Trish B. out to AS6, where they planned to wait (by the fire we knew would be there - we weren't sure if AS7 would have one) until Jeremy F. came through before Rhonda (who was crewing) would drive Trish to AS7 to pace him for the way back. So, around 10:15pm, I asked what time they'd be leaving as I wouldn't mind having a bit of a nap to see me through the night.

The answer? Half an hour.

Back to my car in a hurry, I pulled out my carton of cold crew coffee and poured a mug, taking a few generous gulps of it before setting it in the cupholder up front. I know from both science and experience that a cup of coffee before a 20min nap can give you one heck of a boost, and it looked like I'd probably need that...especially since it seemed my second bowl of oatmeal wasn't going to happen. I stuffed some supplies into my skirt pockets under my fleece pants, changed from my down jacket to the synthetic puffy I planned to wear out to meet Bryan, then put my seat back and grabbed the small pillow I keep in the car.

I completely failed to nap for 18mins.

I was just too keyed up with not knowing how the next few hours would play out, so with 3mins left on the timer I'd set on my phone, I knocked back the rest of my cup of cold brew and started prepping to leave. My good headlamp (with fresh batteries) and waist light went into my running pack, which had already been stocked with nutrition, a full soft-sided water bottle, a wind/rain jacket and the single trekking pole I planned to use. My toque came off, and my running hat plus my Happy Trails tubular bandana (to cover my easily-frozen ears) went on. I pulled off my fleece pants and put my gaiters on over my socks and calf sleeves, then stuck my feet in my running shoes. I didn't do them up properly, just pulled the laces and tied them so they wouldn't trip me or fall off. I grabbed my hand bottle and a bag with a few coconut date rolls to much on, and was just getting out to grab a banana off the back seat when Rhonda and Trish pulled up behind my car. Go time! Kind of happy I didn't sleep after all..

Out to AS6 for about 11:30pm after passing a porcupine on the East Road, I sat around the fire with Rhonda, Trish, Gary B., Don K. and a girl whose name I didn't catch (I think she may have been a Haliburton Forest employee). We had a grand old time, with me making sure I stayed hydrated (by means of drinking cup after cup of water from the aid station) and scarfing back my banana and coconut date rolls at intervals. I also set up a ride out to AS7 for some time after Bryan came through - Don kindly offered to get me out there so I wouldn't have to leave the fire behind too early, and said he'd wait for Erica so she wouldn't be stranded. Jeremy arrived around 12:30am, so Rhonda and Trish departed around 1am to meet him at the turn-around, leaving me to hang out and try to assist other runners coming through.

There's a soft cut-off time of 2am at AS6, which is 10km from the furthest point of the 40km trail. If you don't look solid at that point, you'll be pulled off course even before the hard cut-off time of 4am to depart AS7 for the return trip. By 1:45am I was starting to think I'd just be running by myself through the night to AS5 to meet up with Tanker, Merle, Paul and Matt, but lo and behold we saw 2 headlamps and heard Erica's undeniable shout of "VIP COMING THROUGH!" right around 1:50am.

We got Bryan in and out as quickly as possible, then Don went for a nap - we knew it would be at least 90mins before they would make it to the turn-around. Heading out around 2:45am (just after I'd started yawning a bit - not terribly confidence inspiring, especially as I only had 1 caffeinated gel with me), Don drove carefully through the darkness, arriving around 3:10am. Fortunately they did have a fire built, so I was able to keep my legs warm, and it was only about 20mins before Erica and Bryan came rolling through to head out to the turn-around. I switched to my good headlamp and got my waist light on, did a bit of a warm-up to get my legs moving, grabbed a tiny cup of cola to see if it would keep me lively, and then it was time to go. We left AS7 at 3:40am with 20mins to the cut-off and less than 8.5hrs to make it to the finish.

Outdated map - AS3 has moved for 2018 - but the only one I have.

Bryan was hurting, but we had a couple of things going for us - I was on fresh legs (well, as fresh as they could be after being on my feet most of the day, 4+km of walking and an hour of kayaking), and the sun would be coming up in 3 hours. Daylight not only makes it possible to move more confidently over technical terrain, it also provides a real energy boost to a tired runner after a long night (as I had experienced in living colour at Tally in the Valley 6 weeks prior). My job was to keep Bryan moving as consistently as possible, get him to run when he could, and try to keep his spirits up.

Unfortunately for Bryan, I'm kind of a crap pacer. I was completely unable to motivate him to run through the darkness with me - his shins were just in too much pain, particularly on the downhills that would have given him a gravitational assist. Where most pacers would stay side-by-side with their runner, I always seemed to end up several yards ahead, making him chase me while I scouted the trail. He said that he and Erica had gone off-course a couple of times while they were talking and missed turns, and I knew we had no time for errors, so I tried very hard to focus on following the flags and my memory of the two other times I'd run the course. If you can believe it, we actually passed a fellow still on his way out to the turn-around: Shane was a trooper, and said even though he knew it wouldn't "count", he still wanted to get it done. Good on you, man!

On the bright side (literally), my massive waist light does a lovely job of brightening the trail so we had no navigational issues, and I even managed not to trip on anything in the dark. We walked and power hiked along, trying to stay as close to a 10min per kilometer pace as we could as we knew we had to travel at least 5km per hour to make the cut-off time. The King & James and Lookout Trails slowed us down some, but we managed to get through the 10k to AS6 in about 2hrs...partly thanks to me feeding Bryan one of my homemade salted maple crisp rice squares.

Elevation profile from AS7 to Base Camp with approximate trail points

We were out of there by 5:45am for the next 7k of mostly the Black Creek Trail to AS5, which is some of the flattest terrain in the whole forest and also some of the chilliest! I had taken my gloves off as we climbed the Lookout Trail but had to put them back on again as the temperature dropped significantly as soon as we made a turn onto Black Creek. I was a bit sad to pass the beautiful rock falls that flow under the trail in the dark, as I think it's the prettiest spot on the course, but this wasn't my day - it was Bryan's. I tried to encourage him, telling him he was moving well and we'd get through, but I'm not sure I made a very good job of it. The poor lad had to stop to rub his legs down with Tiger Balm a couple of times, and was suffering with every step. I tried to tell stupid stories about things I've seen and done (and broken - there was quite a bit of discussion about the myriad ways I've messed myself up through the years) to take his mind off it, but as I said - I'm a pretty crap pacer. At least I was able to perk him up a little with some Mennonite shoulder bacon (not as fatty as standard belly bacon, but more flavourful than back bacon) from our farmers' market. That stuff is magic!

Bryan had said he was having some trouble with his right knee that I suspected originated from his glutes - I suggested he stick a knuckle in there and see if he could find anything that was tight, to which he replied "Yeah, so get a chiropractor or something to work on it?". Umm, nope - take your knuckle right now and jam it into your butt cheek and see what you can find that feels sore. There's bound to be something, and it'll probably help whether or not it actually resolves the knee problem. Checking in with him a while later, he said the knee was feeling ok, but his shins were still sore. I instructed him in how he could try to stretch them out (as I figured it was probably from pulling his toes up to climb steep hills for hours on end), by sort of flicking his feet as he walked like he was trying to show someone behind him the soles of his shoes. I heard some agonizing sounds behind me, which I totally understood as I was doing the same stretch and even my shins were a bit tight, then he seemed to quiet down a bit - much less gnashing of teeth and moaning in pain - so I think it may have helped. Later on, his legs were starting to cramp, so I gave him a couple of S!caps to see if the electrolytes would help - sometimes the salt from bacon just isn't enough. Half an hour later I checked in and he said the cramps had eased, so at least I'm a decent problem-solver if still a terrible pacer.

By 6:15am the sky was starting to lighten, though the sun wouldn't rise for another half hour. Still, it was most welcome to see the black dissolve into ever-brightening shades of indigo as our feet were revealed below us and the trail ahead became clear. I was able to turn my headlamp and waist light off entirely by 6:30am, and was in awe of the mist over Marsh Lake at dawn.

Such a beautiful place.

This also meant we'd be able to lose some weight, as we could safely leave our lights with Tanker and the lads at Aid Station 5, which we approached not quickly but steadily. I saw that someone had written "GO RON!" in the sand of the trail at some point, so ran up ahead and grabbed a stick, finishing writing "GO BRYAN!" just as he reached me. I told him "See? Even the trail knows you're going to finish this thing!". He laughed a bit about that. Yep, I'm a dork.

Bryan on his way to AS5

Much as I would have liked to have some extra cushion of time, I was quite happy we'd have daylight to tackle the most technical portion of the whole course - the 7.5km from AS5 to AS4 through Krista Trail, Ben's Trail, Redstone Vista Trail and The Pas is difficult at the best of times, but in the dark for a heavily fatigued runner it would border on dangerous. We departed AS5 at 7am with a smooch from Tanker (for me, not Bryan) and 5 hours to make the remaining 23km to Base Camp, knowing the next few kilometers would be some of the slowest of all.

As we got into the first of the climbing on Krista Trail, I deployed my pole and we started to work. Fortunately, between the daylight and the long hours of power hiking training that Bryan had put in over the summer, he was moving really well on the climbs, and I told him as much. I was also incredibly grateful that this year had been much drier than last, and the trail was in fantastic shape - there were still some permanent mud holes here and there, but you could actually make your way 'round them without having to get your feet soaked and muddy. I also took the opportunity to munch back the turkey mustard wrap I had in my skirt pocket; it had been about 11hrs now since my bowl of oatmeal, so some solid food was wonderful. I really didn't take in that much overall: one salted maple crisp rice square, one turkey wrap, once slice of shoulder bacon, a berry coconut Bounce ball, 3 Endurance Tap gels and one campfire s'mores Gu. Call it 950 calories or so, and I'm sure the only reason I didn't bonk was that we were basically just walking. Bryan actually asked if I had another of the salted maple crisp rice squares when we were on Ben's Trail, and at that point I knew he was getting the rest of the ones I had with me (I'd brought 4 and eaten 1).

With the sun now up, the day had warmed significantly, and I was working harder as Bryan hiked strong up the climbs. On the flats and downhills, when he sounded like his legs were shattering beneath him, I tried to just keep him going with "Pick up. Put down. Repeat other side." I nagged him about eating and drinking frequently, to the point I'm sure he was ready to throw things at me. I gave him another S!cap, which he tried to refuse, but then swallowed after I explained it was warming up and he'd be sweating more. I also ditched my gloves, then shuffled my arms out of the sleeves of my puffy jacket as I was starting to sweat quite a bit myself. I was grateful that my kayaking blisters weren't proving an issue with using my pole, which I switched from hand to hand as my shoulders fatigued from propelling myself up the steep hills. Yeah, kayaking was probably a bad idea.

I furthered my role as totally shit pacer by falling somewhat silent around this time. I knew I should be chatty to keep Bryan awake and lively, not to mention keeping his mind off his sore legs. I generally think of myself as a talkative person on the trails, but I realize that's mostly just saying the same things - "good job / way to go / looking strong" to people as I pass, or having a few minutes' conversation as I pass or am passed by someone who happens to move at the same pace for a bit. I train alone almost exclusively, so have basically no experience with having a companion for hours on end, and am far too comfortable spending time inside my own head to be very good company. So, in an effort to liven things up a bit, I fired up my phone's music app and set it to random.

Everyone has their own taste in tunes, particularly when they run. I personally haven't run with music in several years, but I can just about guarantee that noone wants to be subjected to my phone on random for very long (even Tanker, though his tastes are probably the closest to my own). Hillbilly Hellcats, Operation Ivy, Iron Maiden, Propellerheads, Tool, Beck, Dead Kennedys, Voodoo Glow Skulls, Prodigy, Sepultura, Rage Against the Machine - I'm not sure how much of it poor Bryan could actually hear, but I'm sure it's not stuff he'd have chosen. To make things worse, it led to me singing along for some of it (Bruce Dickinson I'm not), whistling, air guitaring and even dancing a bit on the trails.

Seriously, guys. Noone should ever ask me to pace them again. I tried to make it work to our advantage, though, telling Bryan that the faster he moved the sooner he could be rid of me! He actually said at this point he didn't even care about the buckle anymore; he was just running to be able to go lay down. I told him I was sure his brother would have a cold beer waiting for him, too, but he didn't share my certainty. I told him even if Tyler didn't, Tanker would, and I'd make sure one found its way into his hand; that lad was getting a frosty barley pop at the finish one way or another!

Finally through the nastiest trail section, we hit AS4 with about 15.5km to go and headed on to Poachers. Bryan was saying he'd probably try to run when we got to the East Road, but I tried to encourage him to do so before that if he possibly could - he wouldn't know how he'd be feeling on the East Road until we got there, and any time we could bank before then would be a huge help. We rode a razor's edge and needed every second we could get; I told him over and over that 5 steps of running - even if that was all he could manage - was still better than 5 steps of walking. He tried valiantly, but still we walked. He actually asked if I could trot along behind him once we got to the East Road and poke him in the back with my trekking pole to make him run!

At 9:45am, with 2h15m left to get this thing done and to the amazing cheering of the volunteers, we rocked into AS2 before hitting the Normac loop for the last time.

Hey look, he's actually smiling!

Here's where I turned to Bryan and told him flat out "I never said I'd be nice". I knew we needed to hustle, and I know that the Normac Trail is the most runnable trail section of the entire course.

Guys, I made him run. My own adductors were grouchy and my ankle and I were no longer on speaking terms, but I made him run. We'd get to a gentle little downhill on the beautiful, flowy trail, and I'd start to run, making him chase me. Oddly enough, despite having been up for more than 24hrs and not having bothered with any caffeine past my 3 sips of cola before leaving AS7, I was wide awake and getting happier by the moment - I had a huge grin on my face, though my language got worse and worse as the morning wore on.

You can imagine how pleased he was with some chipper bint swearing every 3 seconds.

It may have only been for 15 seconds at a time, but he ran. We were actually making time! I was so proud of the effort he was putting in, and tried to tell him that his body is so much stronger than his mind would ever let him believe. In my moments of being a bully, I told him that if I'd learned one thing about ultrarunning in my years of stumbling around on trails, it's that it's about suffering. It will completely suck, but it's the suck that you choose, and the only way to justify it is to make it mean something. He could do this, but he was going to have to hurt for it!

I actually asked him at one point if any of the people he'd told that he would be running 100 miles had said that it sounded like fun. Of course he said know, so I told him "Now you know why!".

Yep, I'm a jerk.
(You didn't honestly believe I'd get through an entire run without at least one trail selfie, did you?)

At least it got a bit of a laugh out of him as he struggled along. I tried to emphasize using his poles to take the pressure off his legs, though I knew his arms and shoulders were probably in nearly as bad a shape by this time. Another S!cap and my last crisp rice square to get him along with an hour to go, and we finally made it down the washed-out mess of the Chico Trail and onto the Red Trail.

Not far now.

Once we reached the East Road, I actually put my trekking pole away instead of prodding Bryan with it - I knew I wouldn't need it again. I did, however, pick up a nice, pointy stick.

Then we discussed how you get these things done. You pick a flag, and you start to run. You run to the next flag. Sometimes you can trick your legs into keeping going to the next one after that. When you absolutely can't run another step, you walk, then pick another flag and start all over again. It was excruciating, but he did it! We hit AS3 just as the volunteer was packing everything up, and grabbed a bottle of water each to get us through the last 5km, thanking the young fellow for being out there. Bryan said he wouldn't be stopping at AS2 on the way through, and I told him he was damn right he wasn't! No stopping now 'til the other side of the finish line.

One flag at a time we made it back to the turn to AS2, then he ran like a champ straight through it and out the other side. We had 30mins to make the last ~2km - it was for sure in the bag now. Up, up, up to the North Road intersection, then he wanted to run it in all the way to the finish. I knew that was optimistic, as there's a nasty climb right before the end, but his power hiking was so strong that I was almost having trouble keeping apace of him. As we made the final ascent after which you can see the finish line, I tossed my stick aside with a grin, telling him it looked like I wouldn't need it after all. Everything he'd worked for, not just today or this weekend, but through the months of hard, lonely training, was now almost in his grasp.

We spotted the timing tent in the distance as we crested the penultimate hill, and I told him that there was his glory - he just had to go get it. That lad pushed like the devil himself was on his tail, running the whole of the last 300m up to Base Camp. His brother Tyler came out to meet us, and I heard him say behind me "Your legs must be in the worst pain ever!". NOPE - we weren't having that! I rounded on him and hollered "NO - his legs are F*CKING AWESOME, because they're going to carry him over that line!". Tyler took the hint and had only positive things to say from there on in. He actually asked me how I was feeling, but I just told him it didn't matter - it wasn't about me. I did ask if he had a cold beer waiting for his bro, and got an enthusiastic yes, so I turned and told Bryan that I'd told him so; his brother had his back!

Tanker joined us as well, running with Bryan and Tyler as I led us all in to a huge cheer going up from the waiting crowd.  

Ain't no party like a Haliburton 100 miler party!

A few moments more, and Bryan's destroyed legs propelled him by sheer will through the arch at the finish line.

That face says it all right there.
So proud of this guy!

I got a lovely hug from both of Bryan's parents, who were so grateful for me accompanying him for the last leg of his race.

I wonder if they'd be thanking me if they knew what I'd really put him through?

So, my first ultra pacing job had a good end result, even if my methods are utter rubbish. I've had some experience with chasing cut-off times before, and was very happy I could get Bryan in across the line with 9 minutes to spare before the 30-hour limit (Garmin data for my 8h11m trot through the forest here). He was the last official finisher, though Shane did make it in having completed the whole course around 3:30pm (33.5hrs).

Tyler, mum and dad in back - pacer Erica, Bryan and myself in front.

Bryan did an amazing job for not only his first 100 miler, but also his first trail race - that course is no joke, and he deserves to wear his buckle with pride!

At the post-race brunch - Bryan received the bear as the last official finisher on the day.