Joy and coffee

I usually take Fridays off running.

Usually.

It's been a heckin' week, what with not knowing for the first two days whether or not I was still employed - the stress and fatigue from putting in long hours (even for me) working through all the Record of Employment requests I had from clients. I did my best to get them out the same day, because that was the only thing I could do to help all of the people for whom I was preparing them; I felt awful that they were losing their jobs, and wanted to try to get them support as quickly as possible.

It has not been smooth sailing this week.

I was too exhausted and stressed on Tuesday - when I didn't really get a lunch break, though I did manage to get in a bit of a walk - so no run happened. It would have to have been after work, and I just didn't have it in me anymore.

Sometimes you just gotta take a day.

Lunch runs happened the rest of the week, but I actually managed to get clearance to work from home - I'm apparently essential - for today.

Hallelujah

It was a long day. One just filled with problems. I did my best to solve them, and watched the sunshine break through the kitchen windows after chasing the cloud cover away.

I got to see our few crocuses - one of which is past its best - open for once!

It hit 10c (50f) with just the lightest breeze. To heck with "day off" - I was out the door moments after the end of my theoretical workday, which had started half an hour earlier than usual and had been without a lunch break. 

It's all road to get there and back, but there's about 100m of trail up in the high rent district.

I've run for so many reasons over the years. I've done it just as training for races (which are all cancelled for the foreseeable future), for challenges, for transportation, for health & fitness, and just because it's the only thing that ensures my trousers will still fit.

Today, I ran for joy.

The sunshine was glorious. I won't say I was floating - a lovely spring day doesn't improve the conditions of my legs at all, and they've been a bit tetchy lately - but I honestly didn't even mind the bit of soreness as I bopped up the road.

It's not trail, but a sidewalk will do.

A little less than 8km later it was back to my laptop and a pile of paperwork - grinding away long after the sun went down. I finally put it all away - not because I was done, but because I was getting to the point of doubting the quality of the work of which I was capable. I'm grateful for having that three quarters of an hour of sun-drenched happiness to carry me through.

These are tough times, and I hope you all get to do something that gives you joy. It doesn't have to be running, or even something active - I hope you read good books and create amazing things with fiber or flour; that you write and draw and paint things that may or may not be seen by anyone but yourself but that make you smile.

Waterfalls are definitely a source of happiness for me.

I hope you can find joy in small things and not let the stress wear you down. I wish you peace in your mind and hope in your heart, as spring begins to take hold around us. 

For those times you may need a little pick-me-up, I'm throwing in a totally random review of something I've just tried.

Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latté 

Instant coffee usually sucks. I've seldom had a cup that isn't terrible, which has led to us sporting along a lot of space and weight's worth of coffee brewing equipment when we've gone into the backcountry, and spending a bit of time getting a cup together. French press, moka pot, percolator - it's all wonderful coffee, but it's not particularly quick. 

Since I'm allergic to dairy (and even regular non-dairy creamer has sodium caseinate in it, which is derived from dairy protein and gives me vicious stomach cramps), even most latté mixes are off limits. 

When I saw this stuff, I figured I'd give it a shot. The preservatives aren't great, but there didn't appear to be anything that would mess with me. I found the package in the cupboard today (we bought a few months back in anticipation of camping trips to come), and ended up trying a cup at nearly 10pm this evening...because where the heck do I have to be tomorrow morning?

It's not what I'll call awesome coffee, but it has a nice creaminess to it from the coconut creamer - which gives it no coconut flavour, if you're leery of that - but it's drinkable. No gut rot, and just enough caffeine to keep me alive to write this post.

I'll let you decide whether or not that's actually a positive.

It's not cheap - we paid about $13 for a box of 5 sachets from MEC - but for a fast-and-light backcountry trip, or even just when I need a really quick shot of caffeine, I'd buy it again. It's still cheaper than a latté from a café, and infinitely more flexible. Heck, I may just stick one in the UltraCooler™ if I need a lift during a race; while they often have coffee at aid stations for long races, they seldom have dairy-free creamer, and I'm not a black coffee fan. These just need hot-ish water; they dissolve really well with a quick stir, and even give a wee bit of foam. Super simple, and I think simple is something we can all appreciate right now.

Wishing you joy, and good coffee.

Where are we going

..and why am I in this handbasket?

At least the view is nice sometimes.

Events are cancelled. Hundreds of thousands of people all over the world are ill. There are shortages caused by greed, and breathtaking acts of generosity and goodwill.

There's a lot going on.

The trails emerged from the snowpack just in time to be submerged in meltwater along the Grand River.

Erhm..

It's supposed to be a trail, not a tributary.

A lot of flood damage has been done, at a time when no level of government is going to devote the tiniest amount of effort to their repair.

It's a very different-looking world than it was just a couple of weeks ago.

It's stressful and difficult, particularly knowing that the worst is still ahead. My boss refuses to let me work from home (despite it being easily managed, and in fact offered to me in the past), and is talking about having to close down the office for awhile, potentially putting me out of work entirely. 

..and some of the trails have got awfully narrow.

I don't know if I'm doing enough, and I don't really know for sure if I'm doing the right things, apart from washing my hands and sanitizing all the high-touch places I encounter. With the possibility of lockdown or the need to quarantine, I'm trying to prepare for something like a camping trip to nowhere, but of unknown duration and with shortages of various things I'd like to bring along. 

I don't have a pandemic pack list.
Yet.

I don't know how this will all turn out, or what our lives will look like once we come through.

All I know is that I have to keep moving. 

I may not have any races coming, but I'll be out there running. It may be away from my worries, or it may be to find joy on the trails. 

Most likely some combination of the two.

I wish you all good health and good luck for yourselves and those you love. Take care of your bodies and minds the best ways you know how, and try to remember that there is always room for hope and kindness.

We have to bloom where we're planted.

Be well - wash your hands!

Eleventy-leven

On Monday of this week, the 2019/2020 100 runs in 100 days challenge drew to a close.

As all things do, eventually.

Tanker said it felt like it had been quite short, but I - as the one out there trudging each and every step through everything from calm sunshine to raging winter storms - had to disagree. I felt like it had been long enough to fall into a routine; one that had become fairly comfortable, but that was now ending.

And let me tell you that even some of the sun-filled days had not been easy.

I took a fairly measured approach to this year's challenge, despite some changes to the base rules for the 100 in 100: while the requirement for a qualifying run was reduced from 30mins to 3mi (4.828km) OR 30mins, my own personal standard remained at 30mins or 5km, whichever came LAST. I thought I had given myself a bit of grace for a snowshoe run and counted it even though it was less than 5km (but more than 30mins), however looking through my logs I did actually push all of them to a minimum of 5.0km by my GPS watch.

Which really just goes to show you what a dork I really am.

Another personal requirement was that I run every day of each week except Fridays, which are my traditional day off. There were 15 Fridays in the challenge period of December 1st to March 9th, and I took 14 of them off - I did run (twice, actually) on Friday, December 27th, as I was in the middle of 5 days off work for the holidays.

Gotta make use of daylight when you can.

The final rule I put in place for myself was that I run twice on every day I was not at the office. With three exceptions, I fulfilled that requirement: one was a day on which I had to DNF a race due to severe knee and ankle pain, the other was the day I ran for 6 heckin' hours, and the last was the day after the 6-hour.

Even one run the day after a 6-hour was rather a struggle.

Thanks to weekends, holidays, and one day that I was working from home, I put in a total of 35 days with multiple runs. 34 of those were doubles - on the penultimate day of the challenge, I put in my only triple. I had run three times per day on 3 other occasions, but my 5-to-6-minute warm-up runs before the three snowshoe races I ran in February don't count for the challenge.

They count according to my legs, but not the spreadsheet.

So, to relieve the anticipation that absolutely none of you are feeling - the results!

Which are much more readable on the original page

With 121 runs in the 100 days, I ended up in 20th place overall, and what appears to be 2nd woman - the first place woman had the same number of runs, but significantly more mileage. It was also 1 single run more than I did in the 2018/2019 challenge, when I was also 2nd woman.

At 833.58km (517.96mi) of total mileage, I averaged 6.89km (4.28mi) per run - with 14 days off in the 100 day period, that gives me an average of 9.69km (6.02mi) per day of running, or 8.34km (5.18mi) per day of the challenge period. Amusingly enough, while thinking I'd run more last year, it turns out I put in a whole 0.61km of additional running in this year's challenge. So, lower average per run, but almost exactly the same on a per-day basis.

No runs were completed on a treadmill, though I will admit that 4 of them were on an indoor track, including the 6-hour. Many were on the roads due to conditions or time constraints - I have no access to trails I can run on my lunch break - but as many as possible were done on trails through ice, snow, slush and rain. There was one memorable evening when weather dictated my run take the form of 12 laps around my small crescent.

The end total of eleven squared was only partly by design - as I came into the final week, I totted up everything I expected to do before the end and realised that I'd come in exactly where I had last year. Having not done a triple at all, I decided to throw down on day 99.

It didn't hurt it was both mild and sunny that day, and I'd gained an extra hour of evening light.

With 120 in the bank, all I had to do on day 100 was go for my usual lunch run. It seemed a fitting way to end it off - not with some big push, but rather the day-in-day-out habitual running that this challenge encourages.

By coincidence, it happened to be 17c/63f and my first run in a skirt since October!

So this one goes to 11...squared.

Of course - as luck would have it - I finally succumbed to the cold that had been threatening to overwhelm me for a few weeks now, and haven't run since the challenge ended. I do have high hopes for tomorrow, though!

For those who might think that running 100 (or more) times in 100 days is out of reach, I still suggest giving it a try - there are many who join the challenge with an aim to simply improving on their current run frequency, and the leaderboard awards medals of varying tones to those who complete 70 or more qualifying runs in the challenge period.

There are awesome stories of people making massive gains in speed or resiliency through their 100 in 100 efforts, so I would encourage anyone to give it their best shot! It's a great motivator in those dark days of winter when it can feel awfully difficult to take that first step out the door.

Polar Paws 25k Winter Trail Race - Saturday, February 29th, 2020

Racing three Saturdays in a row?

Well, if you can call what happened here "racing"

I wasn't going to do this one, mostly because I'd been snowshoe racing both of the prior weekends...but circumstances alter cases, and when friends need help, you show up and do your best. Apart from being a fundraiser for a great cause - in support of the Etobicoke Humane Society, at which Race Director Eric volunteers - it also made a great opportunity to finally get a decently long run in. Between the 100 runs in 100 days challenge and snowshoe racing, I hadn't run more than 13km since Stride Inside in early January.

Oh, and let me tell you how nice it was to have that longer run be supported by an aid station every 5km and the possibility of rapid medical assistance when I saw what the conditions would be like..

This is not friendly to long runs alone in the woods

It seemed only appropriate, though, since this would be my second visit to the Durham Forest...the first one having been in February of 2016, for the Oracle Trail 25k. You know, that race that resulted in the frostbite in my left big toe and right thumb that still gives me trouble 4 years later.

To get things off to an awesome start, I totally blew my time calculations for when I'd need to get up. Stupid me said "it's a 2-hr drive and the race starts at 10, so I need to be up by around 7am to have plenty of time to be on the road by 8am". When I awoke at 6:45am, it took me about 1 minute before realising I really needed to be there by 9-ish in order to get race kit, say hi to people, and do my flaily warm-up. Panic ensued, Tanker was roused, and we were out the door by 7:30 for a lightning trip to T.Ho's for much-needed caffeine and a very speedy trip to Uxbridge. We actually arrived at 9:20am - which was the time Tank was supposed to report for volunteer duty - but in sort of the wrong spot. A quick text/call with Race Director Eric later and we found a place to park quite close to race headquarters; advantage of arriving with a volunteer, as everyone else was supposed to park at the Lafarge lot about 100m down and across the road, which (due to the long driveway to the actual trailhead) meant we were almost a half-kilometer closer to kit pickup and the start line.

WE'RE HERE

I did actually have enough time to get my bib and adorable Crazy Cat Adventures socks, slip on my fake-toolah spikes (as traction was required per the pre-race email. Another update had gone so far as to permit snowshoes, though Race Director Eric specified that runners in snowshoes would not qualify for awards, which makes me wonder if he's ever done any snowshoe running as I definitely would not expect anyone to be faster while wearing them!), and then reluctantly take off my big down jacket and insulated skirt so I could do my awkward, spastic warm-up routine. I kept a lighter synthetic insulated jacket with some breathable panels on, as I planned to leave it at the aid station with Tank in case I needed it as I slowed down. With a soft flask of water tucked into the back pocket of my running jacket (so the heat from my body would hopefully keep it from freezing up), I was as prepared as I could be for the deep cold.

There was, however, the minor detail that it snowed about a foot in the 24hrs prior to the race.

This was not going to be an easy day/

To be perfectly honest I didn't like my odds anyway - I had been feeling exhausted lately, ever since I put in a rather big day at first The Flurry snowshoe race and then another 13km at Clay's Valentine's Fatazz fundraiser run a fortnight before. The big effort at Howlin' Husky (and then the very long day afterward, getting home quite late after we had some car trouble) the week beforehand hadn't helped shake it, either. So, I figured I'd just try to take it as easy as possible and enjoy the day.

With some lovely friends for company - always nice to see Patty and Bogdan on the trails!

After dropping off a small cooler on the table by the aid station - with some nutrition to supplement the snacks and fuel stuffed in my pockets - and removing my insulated jacket, I managed to figure out where the start line was (slightly different location than the finish) and head over in time for the pre-race announcements.

Getting last-minute instructions 

When Race Director Eric had finished telling us a bit about the 5k loop - including that the snow had been too heavy for the motorized groomers (which are some of the neatest things I've ever seen - I saw them head out as I was doing my warm up but totally failed to get a photo) to pack down the trails we'd be on, so it would be a little loose at least to begin with - he said we'd start in a bit less than 6 minutes. Myself and all the other freezing cold runners booed loudly at that; I'd already lost the feeling in my left big toe and fingertips, and really needed to get moving! He conceded to setting us off in a little more than a minute, with a ten second countdown. The 5k, 10k and 25k would all set off together; the doggy 5k (with their owners) would go 5mins later.

Let's go!

The course starts off with a wide, flat corridor through the trees, but within the first few seconds it was dramatically apparent that "flat" did not equal "easy" - the deep snow churned underfoot, not packing down at all in the frigid air, and just trying to stay upright was a challenge. Some early-rising trail users had trudged a bit of a path, but anyone trying to pass in the untouched snow would be in up to their knees. Given how difficult it was to run even on the path of least resistance, I was perfectly happy to conga line and take photos.

A left turn at the first intersection brought us to the start of the climbing, and let me tell you that even the mildest of rises was plenty to bring the whole line down to a walk.

The snow-laden trees were stunning in the sunshine.

Flattening out on top in a stand of bare hardwoods, we quickly came to a long, sweeping downhill stretch that was the easiest running of the whole course. I say that knowing I'd probably have gone arse over boob within seconds had I not been wearing my tire chain-like spikes in the soft, shifting snow.

..don't die don't die don't die..

Flattening out once more

As I was taking photos along the way, I tried to make sure I stepped off to the side of the trail to let faster runners pass - I wasn't making them trudge through the deep powder to get 'round me!

I was in no hurry.

Even if I had been, I'm not sure I could have gone much faster anyway.

Grateful for the sun, which kept things from feeling too chilly as long as you were appropriately dressed.

I marveled at the snow on the tree branches, as that's usually something that only happens at temperatures closer to the freezing mark - I was also very grateful I had a tubular neck gaiter pulled up to act as a hood, so I wouldn't get a shower of flakes down the back of my neck when the wind would gust and let loose a load of snow!

It was actually my adorable Howlin' Husky one, which - with its cartoon huskies on snowshoes - I figured was only appropriate for Polar Paws!

As the wind was predicted to pick up quite a bit through the day, I predicted a lot more branches dropping their snow load on my head.

Continuing onward, it slowly became apparent that runnable trail was going to be scarce, at least in the first few laps - the cold weather simply wasn't letting the snow pack down, so every step was uncertain as it shifted underfoot. There was maybe a half-kilometer of what could legitimately be considered trail, scattered in segments of no more than a hundred metres or so throughout the 5km loop. The rest of the time it was a matter of trying to direct the way you were falling over forward, and get your other foot down before you actually landed on your face.

Downhills helped with the aerobic difficulty, but not the stability issue.

It sure was pretty, though.

Winter wonderland indeed.

This looks more like the alpine in B.C. than humble Ontario trails

It would have been a much different experience without the sun to warm and cheer us

Like blobs of marshmallow stuck in the tiny branches

Around halfway through the loop was a section of undulating singletrack that I think was my favourite part of the course. It was densely forested enough that the wind was mostly blocked, so the trees kept most of their snow to themselves, save for tiny spills that would catch the sun and sparkle like fairy dust.

Did I wander through a wardrobe at some point..?

About 2/3 of the way through the loop - after a pleasant, gentle downhill - you begin the largest climb of the course, up to its highest elevation. While not particularly steep, it goes on for nearly a kilometer, and the snow made large portions of it un-runnable.

Can you believe the guy in the blue, red & white FilCanTri jacket did the 10k in what appeared to be cotton sweatpants and leather workboots?

Crossing from one trail to another through the deep snow

More powdery uphill

More proper singletrack

In an attempt to provide some on-course support for the runners in case of emergency, Race Director Eric had recruited some volunteer fatbikers from the Durham Mountain Biking Association to ride the loop and assist where necessary. Unfortunately, even bikes that thrive in wintry conditions were having a tough time in the deep snow; in the early laps, the only mountain bikers I saw were forced to dismount and walk their bikes, particularly on the uphills.

I don't think anyone really expected these conditions for raceday!

The deep blue skies were stunning 

It was always very apparent where people had done a lot of passing, or where other trail users had been out on skis or snowshoes.

Mostly it was just a single trench of churned-up snow.

I'm sure if you were to see this in any other season, it would be doubletrack or rail trail.

Running remained incredibly tough. I actually felt like the high-intensity training of snowshoe racing came to my rescue a bit, as it was a similar sort of exercise in redline efforts with minor bouts of recovery in between. Traction was better if I could run, as the extra force of impact would more securely plant my spikes, but I just didn't have the fitness to keep it up for very long.

Push and recover, push and recover..

Approaching the last climb on the course

Now at 46mins and only around 4.25km, I decided it was time to start getting some calories into me for the long slog ahead. Taking advantage of a hill that I had to hike anyway, I pulled an Endurance Tap gel out of my pocket and slurped it back. I'd only brought maple syrup-based fuel (along with some real food as snacks) for one very simple reason: it doesn't freeze in cold weather!

And there wasn't going to be any other sort today.

I'd just managed to stow the empty packet in my pocket - this whole process being rather complicated by wearing mittens that I staunchly refused to remove - when I spotted something up ahead.

Flattish section with race photographer Sue Sitki just visible!

Sue was hanging out at a fairly sharp right-hand turn into the woods, snapping photos of all the racers.

My tights tell the tale of how deep the snow was in places, and my pocket is still un-zipped from stoeing the empty gel packet.

Rounding the corner, I found myself back on some lovely, flowy singletrack through the forest.

Winter, spring, summer, or fall - I live for this kind of thing.

There were some markers on trees that looked like orienteering controls, but I never investigated to see what they really were.

Holy crap - is that the end of the loop already?

I was shocked to see the tents and flags ahead, as my GPS watch only read about 4.6km. I definitely would not complain about it being a bit shorter day than I'd anticipated, though, especially since it had taken me more than 10mins per kilometer to complete lap 1 and I still had 4 more to go! Given how difficult it had been, I honestly wondered if I had it in me to finish.

Emerging from the woods

People doing the 5k (with or without a pupper) would take the finish chute, but my work was not yet done.
Noone actually took the snowshoe option, though I do know some people brought them.

Lap 1: 49:30 @ 10:32/km

(Assuming 4.70km per lap)

The aid station was a hive of activity most of the day.

I sort of took my time at the aid station, as I wasn't in much of a hurry - I got my bottle refilled even though I'd only drank about half of it, as I knew I would probably take longer on the second lap and be thirstier as I went along. I browsed the selection, and discovered a plate of macaroons in multiple flavours that looked delicious and were confirmed by the lovely ladies from Earth+City to be free of all of my allergens (mon dieu!) - you better believe I grabbed one with a coffee bean on top, which turned out to be a magnificent mocha. Munching happily, I set off for my second lap at 51m40s.

For the record, I'm not counting the time I spent at the aid station in my personal lap time calculations; there was no timing mat for us to cross so I'm just going from my GPS watch data to figure out splits, as well as to establish lap distance as it was definitely less than 5km. Cumulative times below are just that, but each lap time is based just on how long it took me to move my lazy butt 'round the snow-laden forest - not the time I spent stuffing my face at the start/finish area.

Off we go again.

I had hoped that all the faster people - which was practically everyone - would have packed the trail down by my second lap, but no such luck. It was just too cold, which meant that not only was it still incredibly difficult even to hike, I was still losing the toes of my shoes under the soft snow with every step in quite a number of places.

Like this.

That was a bit problematic, as my left foot was not in great shape - far from getting the feeling back in my previously-damaged big toe, I'd actually lost even more sensation. Fully a quarter of my foot felt like it was frozen, which was not amazing. It made it feel like there was a stone under the ball of my foot (something I've experienced before), and I worried that I was doing even more damage.

But, you know, it was pretty.

Quite a lot of people ended up dropping from the 25k down to the 10k, either before the race or after their first lap. For whatever reason, despite my frozen foot, I never really considered joining them - I suppose it was partly because I really wanted to get a longer run in, and partly because I knew Tanker would be working the aid station until the last runner finished. It was unlikely I'd be able to keep myself from descending into hypothermia unless I kept running (or hiking, or falling with direction..), even if I got changed immediately into dry clothes. It was just too cold, and there was no indoor facility or even campfire to keep me from freezing to death.

So, onward.

The snow caps on the trail signposts made me laugh

It was near the end of my second lap that the fastest of the 25k runners started to come by. I dutifully stepped off the trail to let them pass, as I was still in no rush.

Just enjoying the gorgeous scenery.

Big trail map at a junction we crossed obliquely.
I'd love to come back and explore some more, but maybe in the summer..

Sue was gone from her previous location at the final turn in the trail by the time I got there, but I found her set up in the last bit of singletrack before the finish area.

Two down - three to go.
Oof.

Lap 2: 44:13 @ 9:24/km

Cumulative: 1:35:53 @ 10:12/km

So, despite the the snow conditions not really improving, I was a touch quicker -  possibly due to the conga line crowd thinning out as various paces put space between runners, and fewer people overall after the 5k runners finished. Heck, I probably even warmed up a bit, at least figuratively; muscles get looser with use (up to a point), though some parts were definitely staying cold. My mittens, for example, had frozen solid after becoming soaked with sweat. Fortunately they remained windproof, and - being black - were able to absorb lots of solar energy and keep my hands from getting too chilly.

Thus began my longest aid station stop - almost 3 and a half minutes, as I noshed on another delicious macaroon (pumpkin spice this time) and drank some electrolyte beverage. With the race being cupless and only having my soft bottle (which I got filled by a wonderful volunteer), I had to borrow Tanker's insulated mug to have some of the "hot apple cider" flavour Skratch, into which I'd seen volunteers pouring boiling water to keep it toasty...and from freezing. Unfortunately it had been awhile since it had seen any heat, so it was tepid at best. Still, pretty tasty, and provided a few calories and some electrolytes, as I hadn't yet grabbed my little container of S!caps from the cooler. Finishing off the mug - which I'd had to dunk in the big insulated container to fill as the valve had frozen solid before the race began - I saw a big, frozen swath of beverage down the side. I wanted to clean it up before I gave it back to Tank, but managed to stop myself before I tried to lick it; having narrowly avoided getting my tongue inconveniently stuck to a metal freakin' mug, I got my dumb arse back on trail at 1h39m17s.

Back to the pretty.

The sun was very high now as it closed in on noon, and snow finally started to pack a bit in the flatter and more exposed sections where people were running.

Though definitely not everywhere.

Various parts of me were starting to call in to complain. My ankles and hips were not very happy with the shifting snow underfoot - they were having to work awfully hard to keep me upright, and even my shoulders were starting to whine about the interpretive dance moves I'd employed to keep myself from toppling over. April came past near the start of the loop on her way to first woman overall in the 25k; I didn't see Melanie, Wanda or Brie with her, and I knew they had all come out together so wondered if the others had dropped. I didn't blame them in the least; this was like work!

Still, by and large the trail was improving; still scattered around the loop, but there was probably now around a kilometer of decent footing. None of this extended past the single trodden trench through the snow, though; all un-touched sections remained just as deep and fluffy as they'd been on arrival, as I confirmed when I stepped off to one side momentarily to take a pic.

I swear I had feet a minute ago.

I was starting to get quite tired, too - at more than 2 hours, I was well past the duration of my longest run in nearly the past 2 months. Nonetheless, I was past the halfway point, and had high hopes for even better trail conditions to finish it off.

It's all downhill from here, right?

Lap 3: 43:12 @ 9:11/km

Cumulative: 2:22:29 @ 10:06/km

Through the aid station again, slightly more efficiently this time; just two and a quarter minutes to fill my water and wrestle out a slice of very chilly shoulder bacon from the zipper baggie in my pocket. I'd stowed it in my left pocket - behind my race number - thinking it might trap more body heat, but it certainly wasn't warm; I'd take not frozen, though. I was out for my penultimate lap at 2h24m43s.

Somehow, I managed to take almost zero photos this lap. I have no idea how that happened.

I'm stumped.

It may have had something to do with that piece of bacon. If I thought getting the baggie out and open with mittens was difficult, it was nothing compared to trying to get a chunk of it un-stuck from between two of my back teeth. I mean, it's not an easy thing to deal with even in summer, when my hands aren't encased in mittens that are really just polyester-cored ice shells. Somehow, I managed it.

I was definitely fatiguing rapidly, though, and my ankles and hamstrings were getting grumpier by the minute. Coming down hard on a newly-exposed chunk of ice near the bottom of one of the first downhills on the course did nothing good for either my right ankle or my mood as I ran along alone in the forest. I actually considered DNF'ing after the 4th lap - it was hard, I was tired and beat up, and I didn't see any of those things really improving. Trail conditions were getting better, it's true; there was probably now a kilometer and a half of decently packed snow in various sections...but my body condition was getting worse, so it certainly wasn't feeling any easier.

There wasn't much elevation to it, but enough climbing to grind you down with enough descending to put a hurt on your legs.

Toward the end of the lap, something odd happened. As I came down a gentle descent toward a junction of trails maybe 1km from the finish, I saw girl coming in the other direction who asked me if she was going the wrong way. I didn't see a bib on her, but told her the course ran in the opposite direction; flags always on your left, as Race Director Eric had announced before the start. She said ok, turned around, and started running toward the finish line. I was a little faster through the flatter sections, and got ahead of her a bit as I approached the end of the loop, slurping down another Endurance Tap as I trotted along, deep in thought.

I can't for the life of me figure out how she could have taken a wrong turn. Apart from the flags, there were numerous directional arrows with Crazy Cat Adventures and their adorable mascot Marvin at all points where there was even a hint of uncertainty about direction.

With blaze orange flags to highlight the signs.

It bothers me that there doesn't seem to be any way to get turned around that wouldn't mean cutting the course - this was down near the bottom/south end of the map below, generated by my GPS watch - but we all have to make our own decisions about what sort of person we are.

I also have zero proof of any wrongdoing, and want to believe there's some legit reason she was coming the wrong way.

Lap 4: 42:29 @ 9:02/km

Cumulative: 2:22:29 @ 9:57/km

My final aid station stop was actually the shortest of all; just under a minute forty-five, putting me back on the trail at 3h8m55s with another scrumptious mocha macaroon to help me power through.

SO GOOD - thanks Earth+City!

The other girl had kept going while I got my bottle filled - which ended up being partly with Skratch since all but a bit of water had frozen solid - so she seemed to be in the 25k. I wondered if I'd see her again.

While also legitimately wondering if I had this last lap in me.

I had a problem, too - I had needed to pee since partway through lap 4, and didn't think it could wait til I finished. I would have stopped at the start/finish, but the portajohns were over near the spot the race kit pickup tent had been, which was either down the finish chute (which would trigger the timing mat, giving me an inaccurate time as it would think I'd completed 5 laps when I'd only done 4), or I'd have to go down the (longer) pathway from the parking lot to the start line. That felt like SO MUCH EFFORT, so - regardless of how little I really wanted to drop my tights - I made sure noone was coming and, umm...watered a tree.

Nope. No photos.

I was able to get myself sorted and stowed before what appeared to be a father and son appeared on cross-country skis. They actually ended up following me for quite awhile, and I might have pushed a little bit harder on the better-than-they'd-been-all-day trails in order to stay ahead of them. My left foot finally began to thaw a bit, even as the wind suddenly seemed to get colder and more intense.

All the more reason to work harder.

Not only did I just kinda want to be done, I actually spotted the person who'd been coming the wrong way up ahead of me and knew I could catch her if I dug in my heels a bit. I decided that someone who may or may not have run the whole course didn't get to finish ahead of me, and laid out whatever effort I had left to push past her and through the finish. It had the advantage of warming me up quite a bit despite the cold wind, too - my left foot now felt almost totally normal, and my mittens defrosted!

 I didn't even bother to pull my tubular gaiter hood back up when it fell down.

Lap 5: 40:34 @ 8:38/km

Official time: 3:49:29 @ 9:46/km

16/20 O/A - 5/7 Women - 4/4 W40-49

(Official results are here)

(Garmin workout data is here)

So, piss poor placing, but each lap faster than the one before. Of course, with my fastest average pace for a lap being more than eight and a half minutes per kilometer, that doesn't say much! Still, I'm quite pleased I didn't quit on it, and I was actually able to run fairly strong toward the end...not to mention successfully coming in ahead of my rabbit. 

For that matter, Race Director Eric said there were something like 120 people registered among the various distances, but there were only 101 total finishers for all races. I couldn't tell you how many chose to stay home, how many DNF'd, or even how many switched to a shorter distance due to the conditions. All I can say for sure is it was a tough heckin' day.

I didn't even realize until I went to get changed how snow-caked my feet and lower legs were.

You want to hear the really stupid part? Once into warm, dry clothes, and after putting quite a lot of food (including another macaroon or two), and safely home...I actually went out for another short, slow run.

Which gave me both a double run for the 100 in 100, and a total of 29k on Leap Day

The next day, I treated myself to an indoor 2nd run at the track, and got to wear my awesome new socks!

Cartoon Marvin is so stinkin' cute!

This ended up being a great event despite the snow and deep freeze; it all went smoothly from kit pickup to finish, with excellent course marking, wonderful volunteers, and raising money for a great cause. It may not actually be 25k, but trail racing has never been a precise science anyway, and I don't mind coming in under 4hrs - I doubt that would have been the case had the loop not been a tad short. I appreciate the DMBA riders coming out to patrol the course as best they were able, and the beauty of the Durham Forest trails. I'd love to come back again some time, only maybe when the temperature climbs above the freezing mark, ok?

Not sure if I'm giving a thumbs up or just making sure it's still attached.

And that does it for racing for awhile. Good thing, too; we need to get back to the market, as we're totally out of food!