Rugged Raccoon 25k Night Trail Race - Saturday, October 2nd, 2021

 You know you're off to a great start when you forget your headlamp for a night race.

Not sure if that's worse than going in with a torn hamstring, or..?

So one of the fun of this race - which was originally scheduled for May 2nd, 2020, pushed back to May 2021, then pushed back again to October 2021 - is getting there, because from our place you go through the most hilariously-named intersection in Ontario:

Wheeeeeeeee

After returning from camping up north, I'd actually got back to running, so there was kind of a reverse-taper for this - I'd been almost exclusively walking or hiking (save for 1 run just before we left on our roadtrip) for around 3 weeks, and I could definitely feel all the lost cardiovascular fitness. This was also going to be sort of a test for a big, scary thing that is now UNCOMFORTABLY CLOSE, so I was really just hoping I could make it through upright and un-damaged.

Which would be greatly helped by things staying dry..

Of course, weather predictions are fickle things: who would have expected it to reach 26c/79f in October? It was still very hot when we arrived at Wildwood Conservation Area around 3:30pm.

I sure hope that permit doesn't really expire at dusk, or we're gonna have a problem..

The day version of the race had started at 1pm, so as I hung around the new finish arch - to be signed by all participants throughout each race season - I got to see some people come in from the 25k loop and get some intel. 

Such an amazing touch - exactly what you'd expect from Happy Trails Racing!

There was a pre-race meeting with a few minutes to go, after which I (of course) needed to pee, so there was a "warm up run" to the washroom near the start/finish.

No, I wouldn't include a shot from the bathroom.

I'd got it somehow mixed up in my head that the race might take me til midnight (I guess I was thinking of the original 7pm start time, rather than the more appropriate-for-October 5:30pm start that was actually happening), by which time it was supposed to be down to 16c. Knowing I didn't plan to actually run very much, I packed a sweater in a drybag in my vest, along with a soft bottle to compliment my hand bottle as I would likely drink quite a bit of water between aid stations. Oh, and lots of snacks, because SNACKS. I even managed to bring a mask, but we were halfway through the 50min-ish drive when I realized my headlamp was sitting at home. Good thing I had my waist light!

Ironically, though, I'd made my decision of which hat to wear partly based on headlamp comfort.

Knowing my place, I lined up at the back of the crowd, making it with seconds to spare before the start. On Jeff's "GO", off we went!

Ready, set..

It was more moments before I was spat out the back of the crowd completely. I mean, I did run a little, but dropped to a walk to take off and stow my mask once we got spaced out a bit, and even when I began to run again it was at a snail's pace.

That's probably unkind to snails, really.

At this point I realized that there is a marked difference between "out of shape and trying to run" and "out of shape and trying to run in HEAT". I was telling my body to get moving, and running was definitely happening, but the conga line of runners just pulled further and further away in front of me.

Good thing I'm not afraid of being alone on a dark trail

The 5:30pm start - with sunset happening right around 7pm - meant that I could actually cover quite a bit more ground before darkness fell, even with progress that could best be termed a "mosey" rather than a "run". 

I mean it's called a boardwalk not a boardrun..

Tank was working at the first aid station, and I had promised to try to make it to him in less than 90mins - I figured I should be able to manage that, especially since I'd been informed that the course was in amazing shape with almost no mud at all.

Extremely welcome news, as I didn't think my grouchy hamstring would tolerate a lot of slipping and sliding

It was actually lovely to see the loop in autumn, with the colours starting to come out; I'd only ever been to Wildwood in May previously (both times), and I was enjoying the view of a different season.

Lots of hardwoods on the north side of the reservoir

The variable cloud - portent of the rain to come - made for some interesting fluctuations in the light as I made my way along, but really seemed to highlight the gold in the open fields.

Nothing like 2019's spectacular sunset, though

I soon discovered that rumours of the complete lack of mud on the course had been somewhat overstated - I'd heard there was a bit on the back half, but this came as a bit of a surprise.

Being within the first 4km and all

It was a beautiful evening, though, and - while slow - I was still moving ok. I just tried to enjoy the beauty of the landscape while the light lasted.

I really need to come and do the whole thing during the day sometime.

The sun even emerged for a bit, bathing the trail and forest in a golden glow.

Such a gorgeous evening

I realized I was at about 37mins and ought to eat something, so I meandered along stuffing sour patch kids in my face for a bit, suddenly coming upon the first aid station right at 5k by my Garmin.

Tank giving a wave

I got my hand bottle filled, got a smooch, and got on my way. One-fifth down - 20km to go! 

Daylight waning

I'd thought I was dead last, and said so as I left, but the lady working with Tank at the aid station yelled at me to tell me I wasn't - I guessed another runner had been spotted.

I wasn't too concerned if I was - I just didn't want to trip, as that's how I'd torn my hamstring in the first place

I got a bit better look at the gravel pit area of the park this time, with the additional minutes of daylight after the start - it's been conservation land for many years now, but still shows its heritage at the surface.

With a couple of sugar maples flaring into their autumnal scarlet

I kept running for little bits, but this part of the course has a decent bit of elevation gain, and I hadn't been able to pick up any fitness at the aid station.

They were out of fresh legs, too

I was soon joined by a fellow whose name I didn't catch - he said he was from Bradford, so looking at the results tells me it was Ryan - and we chatted a bit as we rambled along the trail. 

Along and up

Ryan was clearly capable of moving faster than I was - I wondered if he'd been a bit late for the start - but seemed to enjoy a bit of company. We got talking about running and racing and camping, passing the kilometers in relaxed fashion. We'd been told that AS2 would be around 9km, so I wasn't too concerned when my hand bottle was empty by 8.5km...but it wasn't til about 10k by my Garmin that we finally found the aid station.

Looking back at it, as I failed to take a photo as we came in, and staffed by the organizers of the Phoenix Trail Race

I got my bottle filled again - I hadn't touched my hand bottle yet, though I probably should have - and set off down the dirt road across the east end of the reservoir. It's a long downhill from the AS, so I ran.

And saw a runner ahead for the first time in an hour or so!

Proof of running

I stopped to take in the view for a moment, and Ryan came past me and disappeared back into the trail up ahead.

End of the day, but not even halfway through the race

Looking at my watch, I realised I was now about 90mins into the race and had only had about a half-dozen sour patch kids nearly an hour before. I didn't need a bonk on top of my terrible fitness level, so I slurped back an Endurance Tap to keep get some quick calories in.

I also found some more mud

Soon afterward I also munched back a "sport-specific" gluten free stroopwafel...which turned out not to be particularly good. Fortunately it didn't cause any GI issues, but it wasn't really enjoyable and was rather crumbly. I think I'll stick with the usual GF stroopwafels that are way cheaper, significantly tastier, and more durable; they may not be individually wrapped, but that just means they generate less waste, too. It did provide some calories, though, so there's that.

I'll know better for next time

I had joined up with Ryan again for a bit, chatting amiably as we pressed onward. By now the sun had fallen below the horizon, and I was starting to need some light whenever there was tree cover. I pressed the button on my waist light, flaring it to brilliant life, then hit it again to try to drop the beam to medium. It seemed to comply, but flicked off completely after 2 steps.

Not bueno.

I tried again, with the same result. 

I twisted the end cap a bit to ensure it was on snugly, then tried again. The light would stay on, but I had some trouble finding the medium setting: high was incredibly bright, but only had a burn time of a couple of hours, and I had no idea how long I'd be toiling away in the darkness. Low simply wasn't enough to move over root, rock, and mud-strewn trail in the dark. Ryan didn't want to interfere too much with the comfortable pace he'd found, so quite rightly headed off into the night without me. I finally got my light sorted out - I wouldn't actually touch it again until I turned it off after finishing - and proceeded at mostly a walk. 

Finding more mud in the process

I'd been told to expect about a 7km journey from AS2 to AS3, which it seemed would take me some time, so I was happy I'd brought two bottles. I'd run for a handful of seconds here and there, but for the sake of my damaged hamstring (and not wanting to slip or trip) I'd walk anything muddy or rooty, and there was quite a bit of both on the south side of the reservoir.

I am a clumsy oaf at the best of times

Of course, in order to see all of the hazards at ground level, I had to have my light pointing mostly downward. That meant I didn't have a whole lot of light to help me see the trail markers ahead, so I definitely moved more slowly than I would have if I hadn't forgotten my headlamp like an idiot. Tank had offered me his, but I didn't want to take his sole source of light for volunteering when I did have my waist light. Race Director Jeff had offered a loaner as well, and maybe I ought to have taken him up on that, but it was an interesting experience to move by waist light only.

The last gasp of daylight

I was just munching back a chunk of bacon around the 2-hour mark when I was a bit shocked to come upon a bright spot up ahead that resolved itself into AS3 - my watch said I'd only covered 14km, and I didn't expect it until at least 16km.

Patty and Tricia were a welcome sight no matter the distance!

I got my bottle filled again, making sure to top it right up as I knew the final aid station wasn't until 20k, so I'd have a bit longer stretch this time and was definitely moving very slowly through the night. There was more mud, more roots, and a section of pine forest where the trodden trail was less distinct and the markers a bit less frequent than I'd have liked, but I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Oh, and around 2.5hrs I pulled out my little silicone pouch of sour patch kids and scarfed them back, because why not eat candy in the dark in the woods?

I am occasionally cognizant of the sheer ridiculousness of my life

I also managed to get the tops off both my hand bottle and the soft bottle in my vest, and pour most of the contents of the latter into the former for easy drinking while on the move. I even accomplished this while walking - with just a bit of water spilled - and didn't even trip! Eventually - after hearing the sounds of the finish line wafting across the reservoir, and knowing the people on the other side could see my light bobbing gently along through the trees - I came to a ridge of grass in a field surrounded by tall pines, with a rutted path just a few inches wide. A cool fog hung over the meadow; if that continued to be a factor, I might actually consider pulling out my sweater, but it disappeared behind me in moments.

The treetops were highlighted by the glow of a town reflected off the clouds

Drinking the last of the water in my hand bottle (with just a few sips remaining in the soft bottle), I emerged at the road, with the glowstick-lined path making a sharp right turn to hit the final aid station.

My watch said 19.7km, but what's a few hundred metres?
Especially when they had more candy!

I messaged Tank - who had been back at the start/finish for more than an hour after packing up at the first aid station - to let him know I had about 5km to go, then got on with it. Unfortunately, the next section - which follows the Avon Trail - I found un-runnable, as much of it was also a deeply cut, narrow single track in the grass.

Fairly accurate representation of what it looked like in my waist light

Here's the thing: the path wasn't wide enough for both my feet, and I'm not one of those people who runs "on a line". My hamstring didn't like me having one or the other of my feet in the rut and the other on the grass, and my still-far-from-perfect right ankle gave some nasty barks as it rolled a bit on the edge of the rut. So, I walked, and walked, and walked some more. There are a couple of stands of pine forest that I was grateful to see were much more densely marked than in 2019 (when I spent a lot of time second-guessing my direction of travel), but I could still only find a few metres here or there that I could run due to the endless roots and ruts. At 3h15m I knew I was within about a half-hour of being done, but hadn't had any calories for 40mins, and didn't want to bonk right near the end, so I slurped back another Endurance Tap. My total for the whole race was about 550cal, while my Garmin tells me I burned more than 1,600. I never really felt hungry or low on energy, though; mostly just frustrated by the trail and lack of light making it difficult even to run the apparently simple bits.

Both cadence and pace tell the tale, but it wasn't due to fatigue or going out too hard

It wasn't really until I came out to another road - this one that we have to proceed along, rather than cross - that I was able to run, and run I did!

My shadow cast by the headlights of a pickup truck approaching from behind me

I got a bit concerned I'd missed the turn-off onto the trail when I hadn't seen a flag for a bit, but I found it after all, descending into another cool patch of fog. Despite being relegated to walking again due to more narrow, rutted singletrack and rooty pine forest, I was able to stay warm enough at a determined march without needing my sweater, which had apparently just come along for the ride.

I spotted the tunnel leading back into the park and knew I only had a kilometer or so to go, so I messaged Tank one last time to expect me soon!

My watch said it was closer to a mile, but the drive in hadn't seemed that long..

There's a bit of an uphill once you're through the tunnel, and I walked that, but once I got onto the park road it was ON.

Hoofin' it under the street lights in the park

I pushed myself to stay at a run, even as I was blinded by the headlights of the stream of already-finished runners' vehicles coming toward me as they went to exit the conservation area. I was able to run the whole final stretch to the finish in the cooler night air.

Hence that red-orange streak by the "stop" pin
(Also note the ones on the road sections)

One of the coolest things about this race is the approach to the finish chute, down a laneway bordered by trees that Jeff lines with lights so it shines like a runway.

..and RUN it I did!

New for this year was the finish arch lit by fairy lights - a shining beacon in the darkness, with promises of rest and food once achieved. 

Such a neat effect!

Official time: 3:47:01 (3:46:43 chip)

11/11 W40-44 - 33/35 Women - 83/86 O/A

(Official results are here)

(Garmin data is here)

I can't express enough gratitude for the amazing Happy Trails crew and the wonderful volunteers. This race - 4 events total throughout the day, including the 5k, 10k, 25k day and 25k night cohorts - went off without a hitch, and we got a lovely swag bag with a race logo sticker, long sleeve shirt, a great-looking medal, and fantastic support and snacks along the way. 

Wheeeeeee!

Oddly enough, I wasn't last after all: there was actually one lady who finished behind me, and her two friends had waited for her before they crossed the line, so (appearances to the contrary) I was actually second last. No matter, though - this wasn't about placing, or time, or anything but just seeing if my body could handle a bit of mileage in the dark. I was happy to have finished with only a few twinges from my damaged hamstring and a bit of soreness in some older injuries (my left hip/glutes have been messed up for a couple of years, as has my right ankle) - no blisters, no GI issues, no cramping, and not nearly as exhausted as I probably should have been with all the fitness I lost through 3 weeks of no running.

Oh, and I got to sign the arch at its inaugural event!

Why does all that matter? Well, I've spent a lot of time this year alluding to a big, scary thing...which begins next Thursday morning.

In the spirit of all things ill advised, I will be attempting to move for 72 hours at a "fun run" event called Three Days in the Park. Never having gone even 24 hours before, this promises to be an interesting journey; one that has had the inside of my brain essentially reduced to one long, mad scream for the past few days as it draws ever closer. So, no blog post from me next week, unless things go exceptionally poorly.

See you on the other side!