Not-So-Rugged Raccoon

More like ragged raccoon, really.

Definitely some kind of trash panda, though.

Saturday, May 2nd was to be raceday for Rugged Raccoon - the Happy Trails Racing 25k night race that had been such a fun mudfest at Wildwood Conservation Area last year. This year's version had to be virtual due to the pandemic, but I was resolved in trying to duplicate the race conditions as best I could within the restrictions of the trails I have available from my front door. I also decided to do it on the actual day the race was to be held...or rather that night. We were permitted to complete it at any time between May 2nd and May 16th, but the weather looked good for the night versus the return to winter predicted for the following weekend.

The actual conditions - notice the swing in the wind direction.
Still better than 3c and snow!

Regardless, I didn't exactly set myself up for success with this - as if I ever do. However, this time it was a bit more than just lack of sleep. You see, we'd finally managed to get all the pieces in place to sort out a problem: our old (non-running) car had 4 wheels on it with our all-season tires, and our newer car still had 4 wheels with our snow tires on. Since the old car will eventually be towed away, we picked up a set of 4 rims to mount a selection of mis-matched all-season tires we had sitting around, and got those tires mounted on the loose rims Saturday morning. After brunch, we tackled the job of swapping the 12 wheels around so we'd end up with a full-size spare, 3 junker tires and a donut on the old car, and our winter tires (still on rims for easy seasonal change-over) tucked comfortably away in the garage.

*Cue the Benny Hill theme*

No big deal, right? Well it wasn't, until I was crouched down with my hands wrapped around our breaker bar, reefing on a lug nut...and something went pop in my lower back. An explosion of pain - I collapsed to my knees and crawled to the lawn, where I laid for a moment before carefully trying some stretches to see if I could loosen things up.

After a time, I was able to stand. Oddly enough, I actually started to feel a bit better once I very carefully lifted and carried a couple of snow tires to stow them under the workbench in the garage. Movement became easier as minutes went by - I was able to mount some wheels on the old car, go from standing to kneeling and back, spin wrenches (though not the breaker bar; heck that!), and make myself marginally useful.

Still, I didn't know if running would be a thing that evening. Or that month.

After we buttoned up both vehicles, I did a bit more stretching, and applied a "Deep Relief" heating patch to my back. Then Tanker and I went for a bit of a hike, because we'd planned to do so and I wanted to see how it felt to move.

We even found some new-to-us trails!

AND THERE WERE FUZZY LITTLE GOSLINGS

By the time we returned home, we'd wandered more than 5km, but my back was feeling...ok. Ish. I definitely wasn't going to be practicing any contortionism, but I could walk just fine. I tried running up and down the length of the livingroom, then up a few stairs. When I didn't die, I decided it was on.

Of course, since we hadn't got back from our hike til 7pm (not having eaten since noon) and I had some preparing (not all of which was stuffing my face) to do, it was gone 9 by the time I strapped on my hydration pack.

If you're thinking this was a dumb move, you clearly haven't been around here very long.
Stupid stuff is sort of my entire oeuvre.

With my pockets stuffed with fuel and plenty of water onboard, I bade farewell to Tank and set off.

Other family members may have been part of the "start line festivities" as well.

With it already full dark out, I began with my headlamp on, but didn't need it for the first couple of kilometres as I ran out of my neighbourhood and along the streetlit multi-use path. Once I hit the trail, though, it became apparent that I probably should have checked the batteries in my headlamp before I left. Or brought spares. Or something smart like that.

(This was taken with flash)

Being rail trail for the most part, I wasn't too concerned about footing - especially since it's all trail with which I'm rather intimately familiar. I know where I need to look out for the washed-out ruts that were carved by rain and meltwater in March. I know where the boardwalk is missing a bit of wood. I know where the bedrock sticks out of the trail in a way that could turn an ankle.

Speaking of which, my right ankle had been a bit cranky since the latter part of our hike. It was not improving on the run, though strangely enough my back actually seemed to feel a bit better after the first couple of kilometers. I'd peeled off the heat patch before leaving, as I didn't know what sweating heavily in it might do; some stuff like that warns against getting it wet as it can heat up enough to cause skin damage, and I hadn't read the instructions other than "don't leave on for more than 8hrs". Also, the top of it had already started to roll up a bit from the hike, and I didn't want to risk a nasty bout of chafing on top of everything else I had going against me.

Might as well try to be intelligent about ONE thing.

I also tried to stay on top of nutrition, hydration, and electrolytes. Having munched some snacks before I left, washed down with some delicious mocha cold brew coffee (because I was feeling in need of a nap before I even started!), I waited until about 35mins in to have an Endurance Tap maple gel and an S!cap. I'd been sipping water steadily from my pack, which carried 2L in the bladder plus another 600ml in a soft bottle in one of the front pockets.

Let me tell you how much I looked forward to that weight slowly disappearing as I ran..

Around 7.5k I turned onto the Devil's Creek Trail for a ~2km spur heading due south - straight into the wind, and almost all uphill. Fortunately I wasn't in much of a rush; I was in no shape to push hard, so walked when I pleased and just enjoyed the song of the frogs in the creek and wetlands. I had yet to see a soul.

For some reason there weren't many people about on the trails at 10pm on a Saturday night.

There were a few unexpectedly soft, muddy spots along the trail - presumably from the rain that had fallen earlier that day, which caught the finest meteorological minds (and us) off guard. My back twinged as my foot slipped a little, so I took note of where the mud was and resolved to go carefully through those bits on the trip back to the main trail. 

Eventually I completed the out-and-back, downing another Endurance Tap and S!cap around 1h18m as I passed Devil's Creek Falls before passing under George Street and rejoining the Grand Trunk Trail for the last section down to Riverbluffs Park. 

Just as charming at night.

I walked the pothole-pocked gravel driveway up out of Riverbluffs - passing the halfway point of my journey - and steeled myself for a long road section. The shoes I'd chosen were ones that had been making my ankle fairly happy recently, but had a lot of mileage on them; I could immediately feel the difference when I made my first transition from pavement to trail around 2.5km in, as my whole body sighed with relief at the reduction in pounding. Now I was heading for cement sidewalks, and the shoes hadn't even managed to keep my ankle from whining. So, another error in judgement for which I'd pay the price.

Might as well have tied a cinderblock to my arse as well!

It was around 14km that I hit the pedestrian bridge and crossed over to the east side of the Grand River. I even saw a couple of people at long last - a pair out for a stroll and reaching the bridge at approximately the same time I did.

Looking upriver, which is where I was headed next.

This was a significant milestone, as I had finally reached my furthest point from home and would now draw closer with each step.

The bridge - opened the day of Sulphur Springs in 2018 - is also kind of neat, and always lit with coloured L.E.D. strings at night.

I still had a fair bit of road running to go until I'd hit the next bit of trail, but at least it was a mild evening and the riverwalk is lovely at any time of day. What was less awesome is that the wind had now swung to the west, meaning I had a headwind AGAIN.

It was picking up, too.

I heard the clock at city hall toll 11pm as I came up Water Street, while every part of me started to complain. I reached the Mill Race and decided it was time for some more nutrition, about 1h50m and close to 10 miles (16km) in.

Inaccurate: it was only about 11:05pm, and I had slightly less than 10k left.

I took the ramp up past the Cambridge Mill, then it was up the Dan Spring Way, where I ran into some more people - one of whom, off to the side of the trail, was courteous enough to let me know he was there so he (in his own words) didn't spook me. Much appreciated! While I don't really fear running alone in the dark, my headlamp beam was so pathetically dim I was having real trouble just making out the trail ahead of me, let alone anything outside its 5' circle. I probably had the most trouble with footing here out of the whole route, as the trail is covered in elderly, broken pavement that would probably be best removed entirely, and I was having difficulty seeing its contours in the pathetic glow.

Back onto pavement to climb up to the Delta, then up past Cambridge Memorial Hospital with its painted-rock-studded gardens. Nice to see those with time and talent are offering messages of hope and thanks to our healthcare workers as they work so hard to fight the pandemic, so we can all continue to live our lives happily with our loved ones.

Walking up a gentle-but-long, sidewalked hill close to 20k in, I took another S!cap around 2h20m, but didn't feel like anything further for calories. I was grateful to be back in streetlights, but feeling really beat up from the cement and pavement...and maybe a back injury and 5+km hike earlier in the day. At the same time, I was also trying to hustle a bit, hoping I could bring in the last 5k in a bit less than 40mins to finish under 3hrs. It was taking a lot of effort to move with any kind of purpose.

Hard left at Bishop, then down the steep grade to river level on the Linear Trail with the wind now gusting in my face - I was pleased I'd worn a light longsleeve wool shirt, as I think anything less and I'd have got quite chilled. The eastern end of the trail suffered a lot of damage over the winter, and has been largely filled with soft gravel; totally energy-sucking and a bit difficult to see in the waning light from my headlamp, so I ended up walking a lot of it, which didn't help keep me either warm or on schedule. As I drew closer to the west end, though, I noticed I could see my own shadow on the trail - the moon had appeared over my shoulder, shining at least as brightly as my headlamp on the much-better-packed gravel and dirt below my feet.

Beauty - let's make some time.

I tried to turn on the jets once I hit the street on Chopin and headed downwind out to King, then up past the Preston Springs Hotel on Fountain to the bottom of Shantz Hill. Here's where it got complicated: I knew I wasn't in any sort of shape to push myself into a run up the sidewalk, and my 25k route involved taking the singletrack trail up the hill to cut through Ravine Park and home. As I turned to face the final bit of trail - turning my headlamp to its highest setting and despairing slightly as it failed to illuminate much more than a couple of feet ahead of me - I knew I'd have to run as much of the hill as I could, in spite of the fallen trees blocking it and treacherous, side-sloped, death-to-the-right section near the bottom.

I did the best I could, and actually ran more than I really expected, but the 3-hour mark ticked past before I reached either 25k or the house. I had made it out of the park and onto my street, but every bit of me hurt. I'm not cut out for this road running stuff; I'd rather play in the mud.

Though technically it's my fastest Rugged Raccoon by more than a 20min margin.

No fanfare or medals when I arrived home, exhausted and hurtin' - just my sweetheart telling me he's proud of me, and offering me one of the best inventions ever:

Chäir

In the best Happy Trails Racing tradition, my course was actually a touch long - so my "official time" is even slower.

Gee, guess where the out-and-back was?
(Full workout data here)

I wasn't even hungry afterward - just tired and sore, though it didn't really feel like I'd made anything worse. Hot water felt great on my back, and cold water went a long way in making my ankle happier again.

A shower cider helped with the rest.

So, I haven't actually run since, though I've been doing a lot of walking. For once I'm trying to do something right and get a little bit of rest and recovery before I fully cripple myself. I do have one more virtual event for which I'm registered (mostly because it's for an excellent cause), but I have until the end of the month to complete it, and it can be accomplished by walking. Still doing that daily, along with some gentle yoga and sitting with a heat pack in the evenings.

If I'm not mistaken, the injury I sustained is a more acute version of something I've been trying to work through for more than a year now, so I may be facing a "forever" kind of thing as I can't currently see anyone for treatment; the pamdemic has not been kind to RMTs, chiropractors, or physiotherapists, nor those of us defective humans who rely on their knowledge and skill to keep us reasonably operational. 

Fingers crossed I can get back to running long distances once the trails begin to re-open...just don't ask me to twist to my left.

Also, COULD IT STOP FREAKIN' SNOWING PLEASE? It's May for heck's sake!