were it as far as tapering goes: I was right back at it from Tuesday to Thursday, putting in about 23km total (6.2k/10.6k/6.3k) with my usual Friday off. Looking at the weather Saturday morning, I actually had to wonder if
To make it all even better, I hadn't even managed to bring a rain jacket - or even my wind vest to run in. I just had to keep telling myself in the cool morning air that it was supposed to warm up, and hope that the course wouldn't get too muddy until it did; if I was forced to walk a lot off the bat, it would be difficult to keep from getting chilled in rain and wind.
Having arrived at DVCA around 6:05am (5mins after the 100 milers and 50 milers took off) after 2hrs of overtime at the office the day before and just under 4hrs of broken sleep (thanks for all the wakeups, cats!), I was honestly starting to wonder what the hell I was doing there.
The Weather Network said the rain would start at 6:20am, and so it did. Little sprinkles at first, but by 6:35am it was full-on rain and I was seriously considering going the hell home. Nonetheless, I went through all the usual pre-race stuff: kit pickup (including my swanky new yellow duffel bag with the race logo embossed on a leather-ish patch), portajohn visits, and flailing of limbs.
was sweet enough to lend me his rain jacket so I didn't have to get my sweater soaked walking over to the loo and while swinging my legs around - there was nowhere covered that was safe to do so, as every tent was full of runners hiding from the downpour.
I left it as late as I could to head to the starting line, but with 5mins to gun time I ditched my sweater just as the first couple of rumbles of thunder rolled through, got one last smooch from
and headed over to the growing crowd milling around in the rain. I was soaked to the skin within moments, and really kicking myself about failing to pack my vest, which I easily could have ditched after the first 10km loop once I'd warmed up - fortunately the wind wasn't bad at all, so I was just a bit chilly.
Without any fanfare that I could hear from the back of the pack, the horn sounded and off we went. The steep descent down Martin Road is always a great way to beat yourself up early on, so I just tried to take it easy and stay out of the way as people streamed past me and lightning flashed overhead. Within the first few minutes a familiar face showed up beside me and hung back to chat - apparently Dion was doing his first longer race after some injury woes (don't I know about those..) and was hoping there would be someone he knew with whom he could do a taking-it-easy-day. With my goal set to put in my slowest ever 50k in order to get in a lot of time on my feet before
We ended up running the whole thing together, despite him being a much faster runner than I am. It was great to have good company as we splashed through the puddles on the first, shorter loop - fortunately noone was hit by lightning, though there was one crack of thunder that was REALLY close by. The course, however, degenerated into a mud pit - at least as bad as the
With my only goal to finish the race without damaging myself any further - did I mention that during the
I somehow managed to mess up both ankles? - I was in no rush at all, so there was a lot of walking through muddy sections in an effort to stay upright.
It poured through the first 10km lap or the Headwaters Trail, which we meandered through in a bit less than 1h17m, with me sharing my homemade sea salt maple crisp rice squares with Dion as we hiked up Martin Road for the first of three times. Turns out he loves crisp rice treats - good thing I brought lots! After a quick stop for me to reload the pockets of my vest and skirt with more goodies and get a smooch from
, we were off again. While it was still dripping for the first hour or so, the rain actually stopped midway through our second lap - the first full lap of the 20km course.
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Ah, the baby pterodactyl in all its convoluted glory.
(Spoiler alert for finish time) |
The sun came out and shone brightly through the trees, and that warm air finally made an appearance. I had almost dried out by the time we ascended Martin Road for the second time. This was nice, partly because it had become very difficult in a lot of places to rely on my own effort to keep me warm, and also because I finally stopped needing to pee all the time. Whether due to the cool morning, the rain, or just over-hydrating, I had needed a portajohn almost every time we passed one - probably 3 times in the first 4 hours! I did finally manage to start taking
S!caps around 2hrs in (when I noticed my fingers getting a bit sausage-y), taking a total of 6 over the course of the whole day, essentially popping one whenever I'd remember; not sure if they were what finally stopped my peanut bladder tendencies or whether it was some other factor.
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| Dion out-hiking me just before the 30k mark while I much back a turkey wrap. |
Tanker was sweet enough to meet me just past the finish arch after each lap, and since he had the UltraCooler™ with him after the second lap, I grabbed my phone from it to take photos of the mudfest through which we'd be trudging another 20k. Dion changed up shoes from Hokas to Salomons with bigger lugs to get traction in the slippery mud, and I grabbed one more smooch from
Tank before we headed out to finish this thing off. We'd done lap 2 in around 3h21m, for a 30k split of about 4h38m.
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| No waiting to get into it - the Murray Ferguson Way was a splurpy mess right from the start off Martin Road |
The hour or so of sunshine had allowed water levels to drop significantly, but the creeks that flow through the conservation area were still running higher than I'd ever seen them.
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| Powerful water flow. |
The mud had also got worse off the start of the last loop with the additional hundreds of feet churning the trails into a soggy mess.
The aid station volunteers were amazing, though - they toughed out a nasty day and did it with a smile. I probably took more advantage of the aid stations in this race than I have at almost any other - apart from my own nutrition, I took about 3 banana chunks, 2 pieces of cooked sweet potato, a chunk of cantaloupe that gave me the closest thing I had to G.I. distress all day (in the form of one big burp - grateful my belly is generally pretty happy these days!), and a couple of small pieces of watermelon as the day heated up.
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| Roll on up to the buffet! |
The sunshine was stunning as we rolled around the main loop for the last time, past the prettiest parts of
Dundas Valley.
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| Dappled sunshine |
Unfortunately the combination of sunshine and warmth brought out the bugs. While this year has been refreshingly free of insects so far, suddenly there were swarms of tiny black flies that would fly directly into my eyes! Extremely annoying and distracting, but at least the course wasn't getting any worse.
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| The water flow had been so high on our second lap you couldn't see the steps of the cascade at all! |
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| Dion rolling along well as I try to keep from holding him back too much.. |
The crushed gravel of the main loop remained runnable, so we tried to make some time there despite my grouchy left hamstring whining a bunch, particularly when I'd ask it to run uphill. I hoped that the sun would last and help dry out the trail a bit, as I remembered how badly I'd been beaten down by the mud at
Rugged Raccoon; I didn't really want another sufferfest like that, especially since this was twice the length.
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| In some places you'd barely have known it rained at all.. |
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| ..then you'd find yourself splashing through an inch-deep puddle. |
While I've never had a problem there (well, except for
nearly losing a poor, trusting, blind fellow on it last year), I always rather fear the Sulphur Creek crossover. It's narrow, side-sloped, and quite slippery when muddy or icy - Dion and I had actually stopped to assist a fellow on our second lap who'd fallen on his way down, and apparently bashed his face off the mud. He was ok and kept on trucking along after Dion helped clean him up a bit, but I was leery of the same thing happening to me!
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| Dion moving much more confidently |
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| Trepidation - I HAS IT |
The narrow top of the trail was a bit nerve-wracking because it's so narrow and plunges so steeply into the ravine (full of plenty of fallen timber to break bones and tear ligaments if you were to fall in), but the bottom of the steep downhill was actually the sketchiest portion. The mud was so slick you could hardly get any footing; I tried to stick to places with roots that wouldn't slip away beneath me, but there are a couple of places you have to just go for it and try to catch yourself on a tree if (or when) you slip.
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| Look at all the slide marks from other people's shoes.. |
I did eventually make it down safely (both times), but it definitely involved stopping completely to try to pick my line, and a deep breath or two along the way. Dion has the patience of a saint to put up with my wussy ways! Here's the thing, though - I have this bad habit of falling when I race at Sulphur. In both
2015 and
2017 I ended up bruised and bloody due to catching a toe and yard saleing myself somewhere around halfway through. I (thankfully) avoided eating dirt while
guiding a loop last year, but it's always in my mind that my clumsy oafish ways have bitten me in the arse there in the past. Thus, with the particularly sketchy conditions this year, I think I could be forgiven for an overabundance of caution.
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| Climbing up the Sulphur Creek Trail on the other side of the bridge, having survived my last crossing of the day. |
With two exceptions, the mud on the Sulphur Creek Trail was the worst we saw all day.
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| Who knew it could get worse than 2017? |
Even if you could manage to keep your feet under you, the sticky mud would just suck all of the energy out of your stride, so there was a whole lot of walking. That walking became more like skating in some places, too, as the looser mud would have your feet sliding all over. My left hamstring was complaining loudly, and had started pulling all the other stuff in my left hip out of place in its tantrum - my psoas and glutes were whining a bunch with the extra strain, and even my adductors were getting in on the grouchiness...though I'm sure some of that had less to do with the hamstring issue than the slippery mud. I'd had to employ some interpretive dance moves a couple of times already - Dion would just hear a "FWAAA!" from behind him as my foot would go rogue and I'd flail my arms around to keep from splashing into the muck.
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| We'd really had enough of this. |
Fortunately - after telling the stupid hamstring it wasn't the boss of me - we eventually made it back to the safety of the main loop, and used the crushed gravel to crush some mileage.
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| The creek still running super high and Dion getting it done. |
I was feeling a bit hungry by this point, but didn't want anything sweet. Then I remembered I had bacon left! As we hiked up toward the Hermitage I munched away on a slice, and offered my last one to Dion, remembering how much he enjoyed bacon from when
we volunteered together at the
Conquer the Canuck main aid station last year. It was just what I needed, and I guess he was in the same boat - bacon FTW!
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| It does make climbing a bit more pleasant. |
The sun was quite hot by this point, so I had to revise my earlier estimation that the heat and solar radiation would not be a limiting factor for the day. While the mud and my laissez-faire attitude toward pace were certainly slowing me down much more, I could definitely feel the heat sapping my energy.
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| The forget-me-nots were loving it, though, and I was loving them. |
The worst energy suck, though - and also the part of the course to which I was least looking forward - was the G. Donald Trail. When the rain first started, I predicted it would turn into a quagmire of slippery hills. I'm sorry to say that I was entirely correct, and the horror began right at the entrance to the lollipop trail.
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| Dion picking his way along the side, while I barge right through the worst of it. |
Fortunately for my sanity, the sunnier sections had dried out a bit so you could get some footing.
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| It had been worse on our first full lap. |
But the low spots - as well as lots of the hills - remained a squishy, slippery mess.
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| Just...ew. |
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| This is AFTER it dried out a bunch. |
Again, the most nerve-wracking parts for me were the downhills. I can handle slipping while I'm climbing - you just fall on your hands and knees, mostly. Downhill, though...if a foot goes out from under you, there's a good chance you'll hit the back of your head when you go down. I can't afford to get any dumber!
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| Dion's shoe change proved super helpful through this section. |
I mostly picked my way down like an arthritic 80 year old, but sometimes you've just gotta go for it when there's nothing but slippery mud below. I had to employ the "tapdancing on quicksand" method of running on a couple of occasions.
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NEEEEEROOOOOOOOOM
Pleasedon'tfallpleasedon'tfallpleasedon'tfall |
I was seriously relieved when I got through the G. Donald Trail for the final time without landing on my head and breaking my fool neck, though I did angry up my hamstring even more by doing a straight-legged, 1-footed downhill slide on the injured side. We were far from done with the mud, too: one of the nastiest bit was actually due to a small course change for this year - instead of having the aid station on Martin Road itself, they moved it to a field on the side of the road with a small cross-over portion from the Headwaters Trail.
That small crossover did not bear the effects of thousands of feet and 15mm of rain within a couple of hours terribly well.
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| Don't try to avoid the muck on the left - you'll just slide sideways into it anyway. |
The field itself fared no better, turning into a squelchy mess of mud before we even got there the first time and continuing to deteriorate all day.
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| Put the aid station in the field, they said. |
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| It will be fun, they said. |
As we hit the lollipop portion of the Headwaters Trail for the last time, I mentioned to Dion that the sunshine and blue skies made it appear we'd get through the rest of the race without getting wet again, despite a second cell of thunderstorms predicted for the afternoon.
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| It was really beautiful out there. |
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| Lots of lush vegetation looking so vividly green after the morning's rain. |
He basically told me I should shut my mouth lest I curse us, which was sound reasoning - I just hoped we'd get through the Headwaters loop before it dumped any more rain on us, as I didn't particularly want to end up sliding backwards while trying to climb the Three Sisters.
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| Assuming we could even get there. |
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| No idea why he put up with me, other than sharing my bacon & crisp rice treats |
I did try to make him feel better by saying we were on the last trail, as we were both starting to get a little worn and weary. I didn't really feel tired per se; I just wanted to be done with the mud and climbing, and even my non-injured hamstrings were starting to get whiny. I also managed to step on something around this time and jam my left ankle, which began to complain quite loudly about the abuse.
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| Even the trilliums were having a rough, muddy time of it. |
Cloud cover started moving back in as we turned onto the loop, leading us to the Three Sisters.
MEC has a contest on to name them, and I guess that's why they had put out signs along that section of the course.
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| Yes. Yes I have. |
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| Many people do not. |
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| That's one way of putting it. |
Of course, why not pause for a little shoe wash partway up?
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| The cool water actually felt lovely on my hard-working feet |
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| Onward and upward. |
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| The slippery here was real. |
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| Second sign says "and the steepest", and is definitely not wrong. |
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| Sweet relief in sight! |
I had one last gel - an
Endurance Tap - as we hiked up the the Three Sisters. I had kept up pretty well with nutrition all day, having had a full flask of
EFS Liquid Shot (which I finished before the end of lap 2 so I could ditch the empty flask with
Tank and have an open pocket for my phone), a campfire s'mores
Gu, a chai latté
Gu Roctane around 6h37m (which didn't taste very good - it was my first one of that flavour - but I wanted the caffeine for a bit of a boost in the last bit of the race), 2 pieces of bacon, 3 crisp rice treats, and my turkey wrap at the end of lap 2 on top of the fruit and veg from the aid stations. It generally worked out to something every half hour, with an extra bite here and there, and I had pretty good energy throughout the day. I was determined to keep that up, especially since everything sat just fine - I farted a couple of times (good thing Dion was mostly ahead of me!), but never needed a portajohn for anything but a pee. Of course, when you're not moving very fast it's easy to keep from having G.I. issues! I did also wash my food down with plenty of water, filling my bottle from the aid station basically every time we passed one; as the day heated up and the mud slowed us down, I never quite ran out but I always grateful to be able to top off. I even filled at the fluids-only aid station at the top of the Three Sisters the last time just to make sure I wouldn't run out, as it had really got quite hot out by then despite the increasingly overcast sky.
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We sort of argued about this, with Dion indicating "2.5" laps.
I said we were more than halfway through our third lap.
He said we only do two 20k laps plus a 10k (half) lap, so we were on lap 2.5.
I'm not sure if there's a correct answer here, so we'll just leave it at "we were both right". |
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| Actually, we were pretty close percentage-wise by this point, no matter how you count the laps. |
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5k left to go
The girl in bright yellow was running her first 50k ever! |
The open portions of the top of the Headwaters loop, thanks to a combination of sun and many feet, had dried out quite a bit. There was a runnable strip through most of it, though I can't say that we ran it all.
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| I was feeling the fatigue of having been on my feet and moving for more than 7hrs. |
We definitely took advantage of the long downhill on the south side of the loop, though, cruising along with some of the best speed we'd seen all day as it started to look more and more like rain. We almost felt like we were racing the weather; trying to make it back to the gravel of Martin Road before it got any wetter and muddier.
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| Though I did stop to move another little salamander off the trail. |
Once more through the unholy mess of the M.A.S.H. aid station, with no need for me to stop - I had a bit of water left and knew we were less than a kilometer from the finish. It looked like we might be up against it to avoid getting rained on during the final ascent, but we hadn't got wet again yet!
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| Bye portajohns - thanks for being here for me when I needed you! |
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| Steven Parke coming through the muck on his last lap of the 50 miler |
When we got back onto Martin Road, I was smelling the barn and ready to be done. That
Endurance Tap might have kicked in, too, as I was ready to rock and roll! I actually ran up and over the small hill on Martin Road, trying to drag Dion along with me.
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| He didn't buy in, but did run down the other side. |
I kept it rolling when he caught up to me, and asked if he wanted to run up to 222. He said he didn't know what I meant - if you're not familiar with Martin Road, it's actually a house number on a metal stake on the right side as you're ascending, and it basically marks the start of the steepest section of the hill.
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| It's by that little break in the grass on the right, just before the curve. |
Well, Dion wasn't having it, but my legs were actually feeling pretty good so I ran it myself.
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| Proof I did actually run some of the course, anyway. |
I dropped to a walk when I got there, and Dion quickly caught me up.
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| Happy we didn't sign up for anything longer. |
We hiked the leg-burningly steep middle section together, with me urging us on - I'd checked my watch and seen that if we hustled, we could make it in under the 8 hour mark.
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| Which is still slow as hell, but why not shoot for some arbitrary marker? |
Of course, when we rounded the final curve where it flattens out a bit, Dion was off like a shot! I broke into a run, but he left me well behind by the time I entered the finishing chute.
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Running it in.
(Photo credit to Will Spaetzel) |
Dion was kind enough to wait at the line, though, so we could cross together.
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| I'm coming, I'm coming! |
Official time: 7:59:28 @ 9:35/km
I was very happy to finish off strong, not really feeling any worse for wear apart from my grouchy left ankle and complaining hamstrings - my right ankle, which had been hurting in an all new way since the canoe trip, was only occasionally talkative and seemed not to have cared about nearly 8 hours of pounding.
I was also grateful to have had Dion's company throughout the day, though I'm not sure I was a very good companion - I certainly held him up with my over-cautious mincing through the sketchy bits, superfluous portajohn stops and general shenanigans. Still, having a friend along the way definitely made the day much more fun than it might otherwise have been!
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| Neither of us taking our medals out of their plastic baggies, lest we get them covered in mud! |
Then, of course, it was all over but the cleanup...which would be rather extensive.
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| Wee bit of mud. |
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| It probably would have been easier had I not carried 18lbs of the damn course around with me most of the day. |
Extremely thankful we got done before the second, more powerful cell of thunderstorms came crashing through. I heard tell later of trees and limbs falling in ridiculous wind gusts, and of course even more effin' mud!
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| And considering this was the INSIDE of my sock, I certainly didn't need any more. |
Lastly, I was actually quite happy to have taken so long out there, as it gave me a really good, long day on my feet as my last ultra-distance workout before
Sunburn Solstice. They say you're good for about twice as long as your longest run - I'm hoping that this 8-hour, 50 kilometer day will see me through 15 hours and 23 minutes next month.
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| That'll do. |
More encouraging still, I actually ended up running the following day - just a slow, easy 5k, on delightfully non-muddy roads, but still a run just because it was a lovely evening. I've resumed normal training since, with no ill effects, so it seems like the
high mileage weeks I've
put in recently are paying off.
Now if I can just get that stupid hamstring to behave itself..
