(AKA The Stahr Wahrs Ultra - Part 1 is here / Part 2 is here)
With all goals except "try to still be moving past 71hrs, and anything over 200km is a bonus" thrown out the window, I woke up from an 89min nap at 7:43am on Saturday morning with just over 25hrs left to go.
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| A mere trifle after 47hrs already, no? |
It seemed like the first 13-14 of those hours might not be especially pleasant, though - the sky looked like it does in the above photo, and impending doom was confirmed by a quick look at the forecast:
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| Could it just...not? |
I pulled on my fleece skirt over the compression tights (which had fortunately dried out enough from Friday night's rain showers enough for me to sleep comfortably in them), then a fresh pair of shoes that I'd been saving for the final third(ish) of this thing: a pair of old New Balance 1210v2 that I usually reserve for winter use, as they're a bit wider than I need, so I can wear really thick wool socks with them. In this particular case, I wanted the extra width to give my poor, swollen feet a bit of breathing space after being crushed by the Salomon Speedcross I'd worn the night before. They also had decent lugs - in quite good shape as they're usually only used on snowy trails, which doesn't wear them down - to help me navigate the mud.
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| Getting ready to go...but in no hurry to get out there, really |
There was no question of sleeping any longer: not only was it time to be up and moving, I was also both freezing and desperately in need of a pee again! I scuttled around the back of the tent to do so, hoping no-one would come along as it was now full daylight. Not wanting to repeat Friday morning's error of not eating before heading out, I munched back a banana before throwing on my sweater, hydration vest, and gloves, and grabbing my poles from their guardians.
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| Stormy might not be able to hit a target, but he kept my poles safe while I napped (Also: note the raindrops visible through the fabric of the tent) |
With a deep breath, I unzipped the tent and stepped out into the weird light of gathering storms.
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| Looking back through the meadow from the tent |
I could see a tiny bit of blue sky to the west (toward the portajohns), though, and since that was the way I was going...well, there was some hope, right?
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| Even if there wasn't, there were loops to walk. |
I'd stopped after 89 laps around 5am, and had to face some hard facts: I really had no idea how many more I'd be able to get in before the finish of the thing, but it would definitely be far short of my original 150 lap goal. As I set off - around 8:10am - I still had 3 laps to go before I'd even reach 100 miles (the course was 1.092mi, so it was 91.57 laps - rounded to 92 - to make 100mi), a feat which most people achieve in 30 hours or less even on courses with significant elevation like Sulphur Springs. Ah, well - I was dealing with multiple injuries before I even started, and added a couple of extras to my collection before the first night even fell, so what did I expect? Besides, with never having even gone 24hrs before, it wasn't really about how much mileage I could get in: this was about seeing whether or not I could keep moving for three days.
It didn't help, either, that we kept getting wet. Within just a few minutes of emerging from my comfy cocoon in the tent, the sky - to no surprise at all - began to drip on me yet again.
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| Just like Day 2, only with more pain and fatigue |
It also came as no surprise at all that the course had gotten muddier and more treacherous once again as I snoozed. With a few more feet to mush in all the rain - between Patty and her pacers in the 48hr, plus Rich having paced me Friday night - things had gotten a bit slippery as your turned into the woods at the bottom of the big downhill along the cornfield (see the top photo).
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| Mmm...squelchy.. |
I came through my 91st lap around the time even more people were set to join in: there was a 24hr starting at 9am, as well as a 12hr version, with at least a couple of entrants in each...I think. I'm not 100% on the fine details here. I know there were 13 registrants total across the 72hr (definitely 3 of us), 48hr (for sure just 1), 24hr (at least 3?), and 12hr day (maybe 3?) events, and I know from the lap counting board that only 11 people actually completed recorded loops, but I am significantly hazy on fine details. It wasn't that I was out of my mind with fatigue or anything; I was remarkably lucid throughout the whole experience, much more so than I had expected (particularly with no real sleep for the first 32hrs). It's just that no participant list was ever posted, and people would turn up at odd times, then disappear again. I'm not sure who was pacing, who was racing (or fun running), and who was just out for the occasional lap. None of it had any impact on me, really - I joked about having my 3rd place podium finish locked up for the 72hr (since there were only 3 of us, with Brad and Monica still moving strong and outpacing my broken arse by leaps and bounds) - other than to offer a kind word whenever I'd pass someone (on the 2-way traffic section), or get passed (which happened a lot; I'd just stand out of the way and let others by).
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| What has 2 poles and ain't in any hurry? This chick. |
I do know Maria was out with her sister for the 24hr, and Lynn (the sister in question) was not only going for her first ultra-distance, but also her first trail race! They really only planned to stay for as long as it took to get in 50k, though. Moy and Joe were out on course, but I'm not sure what events they actually registered for. Brian was definitely in the 12hr, and Byron was supposed to be in for the 24hr, but had decided against starting at 9am. Heck, even Maria and her sister didn't show up on course until 10am-ish; advantages of a "fun run" rather than a race! Not many folks were interested in hanging out through the night; there had been a 12hr night option (that would have started at 9pm Saturday, and gone 'til 9am Sunday), but I guess there hadn't been any takers.
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| Our little tent village remained the same size from Friday morning |
The weather was, quite frankly, awful. Not only did the rain showers continue, a vicious wind had sprung up. I had some friends coming out that afternoon to share some laps who were seasoned trail/ultra runners, and I didn't worry about them, but the CFO of the company I started working for last summer (head of my department - there are only 4 of us total in finance) had said he'd come out, and was thinking of working it into a family trip to Elora. I know he has a 2 year old daughter and a less-than-3 month old son, and this was no place for them to comfortably hang out, so I messaged him to make sure he knew I was ok if he didn't come out.
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| I managed not to go off course while sending this |
To Colin's credit, he messaged back within a few minutes to say he was coming on his own regardless, and would be there around 10:30am. I couldn't say I wouldn't be grateful for the company; while I remained fairly chipper overall, I would definitely appreciate some distraction from the ever-increasing challenges of the weather, mud, and the protestations of my own body. I did finally manage to get that 92nd lap done, though, by 9:30am - 48.5 hours for 100 miles.
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| I celebrated my first hundo with a butter tart, walking and eating while it rained on me |
My knee was still complaining loudly every time I went downhill at all, which was not a lovely sensation - as stabbing pain around one's kneecap seldom is. It didn't hurt on the flats or uphills, though, which I could still hike reasonably well...except the big stinkin' hill, which was a pure matter of stabbing both my poles in as high as I could reach, then sort of shuffling up to meet them. Repeat until top achieved, or arms fall off.
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| The strange light of morning made the field look even greener - I hadn't thought that was possible |
Tank was up again by this point - I'd let him sleep as long as he was able in the passenger seat of our car (parked beside the tent) so at least one of us might be rested and able to take care of me - and I let him know Colin was on his way. The butter tart had my teeth feeling gross, so I thought about brushing them again (as I had Friday morning), but kept forgetting as I'd pick up water or nutrition at the tent every couple of laps.
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| My frequent stops at the portajohns assured me I was staying hydrated |
As I trudged around the course, I noticed some rubbing on the outsides of my heels from my fresh pair of shoes - I hadn't laced them down particularly tight, as I was still suffering from the painful lace bites where my feet met my ankles from snugging down my shoes too snugly on Friday morning, and I suppose my heels wouldn't swell the same way the rest of my foot did to fill the extra width of the 1210v2s. I also wonder if some of it might have been an effect of the shifting mud underfoot, which would sometimes cause my feet to try to slide out from under me.
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| I was surprised I wasn't hearing a lot of whining from my stabilizer muscles, which had been complaining as early as Thursday evening. It's probably just that they and I were no longer on speaking terms. |
I let the folks at the aid station tent know that I was expecting company as I finished my 96th lap, so they could help Colin get signed in when he arrived. I kept on walking, marveling at how well Brad and Monica were still doing!
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| Monica coming down the long hill, still smiling! |
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| Tough to catch anything but Brad's back as he passed me like I was standing still! |
I also noted a huge number of big, black birds flying in a horde over the woods - perhaps a kettle of turkey vultures (though the weather didn't seem right for thermals), perhaps a murder of crows? Definitely some kind of carrion bird.
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| Dozens upon dozens of them, and I'm just like "Uhh guys I'm not quite dead yet - the polite thing would be to wait a bit.." |
The weather might have been unpleasantly cold, wet, and increasingly windy, but there was nothing I could do about that except keep myself moving as much as possible. It was astonishing how quickly I'd get chilled when I'd take a break for even just 5mins - it was like the damp would just crawl inside my layers of clothes, trying to give me a full-body, shivery hug. Just like mosquitoes in summer, the only way to keep it at bay was to stay in motion.
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| The conditions did make for some amazing light, though - no filters or adjustments required |
Heading out for lap 97 with the remaining baker's dozen fuzzy peaches in my pocket, I found Colin waiting for me by the aid station tent - I guess Clay, Dree, and Gary had told him that "all newcomers have to do a shot of Fireball whiskey before they head out", and Colin had obliged...which may be the only reason he didn't freeze to death in shorts!
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| 2 days deep into a race and chatting with your boss - what could possibly go wrong? |
Colin is a trail runner himself, and actually completed his first ultra in September of 2020 as a solo 50k on the Bruce Trail through Beaver Valley, which just goes to show that a lot of finance professionals are complete masochists. We talked a lot of trail running stuff, like my obsession with gummy candy as fuel for ultras (some of which was said through a mouthful of fuzzy peaches), the very specific application of pickle juice to relieve cramp (and the interesting mechanism behind it), and absolutely nothing to do with work. Unfortunately for Colin (and everyone else who shared a lap or more with me), I am a rambler; I'm sure our "conversation" was more like a monologue with occasional comments edged in sideways. I should honestly apologize to anyone who's ever had the misfortune to spend any time with me while I'm tired and trying to work my way through something difficult: I don't mean to prattle on endlessly, it just kind of happens. Scher got some of it in the evenings when I'd stop for breaks, or was getting myself down for a nap, and of course poor Tank has been putting up with it for years now.
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| Is it any wonder he's so supportive of me buggering off into the woods for hours (or days)? Though admittedly I'm even worse once I get back.. |
Colin was able to put up with my blithering (perhaps the Fireball helped?) for laps 97, 98, and 99, which took just over an hour: I was actually moving pretty strong when compared to the night before, and I was sincerely grateful to have his company, and that he took time out of his weekend to join me. As we climbed the hill for the last time together, he said "I still can't get over this [colourful descriptor] hill", to which I could only respond - while stabbing my poles in above me, and marching up to meet them - that so far I had a 100% success rate at getting over that hill!
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| It helped knowing that there was food, shelter, and friendship once you managed it |
Always the instigator, I worked on him a bit while we walked, planting the idea of trying a timed race of this kind in future. While Colin initially thought a looped course would be too mind-numbingly dull, he could see that this particular one had enough variety and challenge to keep things interesting
(I certainly never got bored!), and the frequent availability of food, water, and support made it a great option for those who might feel a bit intimidated by going long...which is, let's face it, about the only reason I was willing to take on the insane goal of 72hrs without having done more than ~21hrs on my feet in the past. With a bit more pressing in the next few months, I might just have him signed up for the 24hr by next fall! I saw him off to his car as I set off for my 100th lap, with him saying he felt a bit silly not joining me for that landmark, but needing to get back to his family. I completely understood, and thanked him for coming, saying I was sorry I couldn't have ordered up some more pleasant weather for us - I was quite touched when he replied that he'd have come even if it was snowing; wouldn't have missed it. There are a few of reasons why I'm much happier in my new job than I was in my old one, and the people with whom I have the privilege of working are definitely one of them.
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| For the record, that makes 2 of my colleagues who came out to join me (Divya came for 2 laps Thursday evening), both of whom also made donations to the Defeat Depression campaign |
Back out there (noticing that some more friends had showed up to spectate and/or help out), I figured I'd get this lap done, then have myself a bit of a break - I was getting hungry, and somehow after Colin's departure my body just seemed to sort of collapse on me a bit. It may have been a lack of calories and hydration; my logs tell me I picked up the last 13 fuzzy peaches (about 200cal) at 10:45am, and then had nothing further until early afternoon. I had also, as I mentioned, been rambling while walking with Colin, so probably wasn't drinking as I should. I was down to a shambling sort of stagger, making progress more out of habit than any sense of urgency. My feet needed a break, I needed some food, and 100 laps seemed to be a nice, round number at which to stop.
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| Time for stoppin' |
I saw Maria out on the course, absolutely killing it, and somehow it came up that I was on my 100th loop. Well, I guess she must have told everyone back at base camp, because as I came in a huge cheer went up, with shouts of "WOO! ONE HUNDRED!" It was so sweet of them to make such a fuss about it, and I was delighted to get a wonderful hug from Debbie, who came out to cheer even though she's just undergone hip surgery. She's a badass trail mama herself: she has achieved 6 of the Seven Summits, and became the first woman to ever finish a 200 miler on Canadian soil at Sulphur Springs in 2017 - while I was out running a measly 100km, she did more than three times as much distance, and under their 72hr cutoff time. By comparison, I'd been out on course for over 51 hours, and had only covered 109mi/176km...but friends don't care that you're not able to equal their incredible achievements, they just celebrate what you can do.
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| Me with my poles and Debbie with her cane - we made quite a pair! |
And then, because it's Deb, she gave me a little shove and told me to get moving again! I wanted to stop, to sit, to eat...but I'd already passed the tent, as people had started whooping for me as I approached and I couldn't stop short when they were offering me such kindness, and I didn't want to go backwards. So, off I went again, though slowly and painfully. Tank even came along with me for the first bit of it.
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| Yes, I am as tired as I look. |
I was actually really happy he was there, because things took a turn for the weird. Tank thought I had lost my mind when I looked down at the muddy grass on the way to the portajohns, stopped dead, and said "I've just found myself on the trail". When he looked for himself, he had to admit I was right.
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| I think someone's Karbon apparel lost some of its reflective logo.. |
He picked it up for me (things on the ground were a very, very long way away by this point), and took it back to the tent with him - just tickled by the ridiculousness of the whole thing, particularly when you consider I'd somehow spotted this little half-inch thing on a wind-blasted, treacherously muddy stretch of trail that had me scrambling just to keep my feet under me.
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| I'm certain it's a form of cruelty to make tired, broken bodies try to navigate this just to use the loo |
Exhausted and needing food, I dragged myself along through lap number 101, with my Garmin telling me confusing things: the numbers on it hadn't made much sense for the past day or so. What do you mean, almost 52hrs? Nearly 180km? That can't be right - I'm not capable of that sort of thing. I'm just a sore knee, a growling belly, a couple of swollen, whiny feet, and a pair of poles wincing along through the woods. And then the sun came out!
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| It had been hiding behind clouds for a day and a half by then |
The light showed the way the forest had changed since the start - there were fully mature mushrooms out there that hadn't even sprouted yet on Thursday!
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| I'm certain they were the only ones enjoying the wet weather |
Once more up the big, stinkin' hill, then through the increasingly muddy meadow to the tent so I could finally collapse into a chair for a bit, giving my aching feet some reprieve. I managed to keep it down to a few minutes, shucking off my sweater as I sat and putting on my awesome Vader t-shirt over my wool longsleeve, as I'd got quite warm in the sun. I think I ate something as well (probably a blueberry muffin?), though neither Tank nor myself recorded anything in the log. I must have had something to quiet the growlies in my belly, though, as I persuaded myself to get out for another couple of laps. I was feeling the need of a substantial meal, though, so asked Tank if he could cook up some bacon and an egg for a breakfast bagel. He said he would, so I stumped off once again to let him get on with it while I put down a bit more distance. A couple of miles later, though, I was back in the chair in the tent, having a spritz of vitamin B12 and drinking deep from a much-needed cup of coffee.
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| Oh, sweet bean - how I have hungered for your hot, bitter kiss.. |
I didn't do any foot maintenance, as I hadn't really been noticing the hotspots on the outsides of my heels anymore; either my feet had swollen to fill out my shoes, or everything else was just in such poor condition that it took all of my meagre brainpower away from thoughts of this fairly minor inconvenience.
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| Thinking "wow, I'm really muddy", blissfully unaware of just how much worse it would get |
As I sat and tried to recuperate a bit, my lovely friends Dee and Nat showed up to share a few laps with me - poor timing on my part! Fortunately they were happy to go do a lap or two by themselves and see some other people on the course while I tried to get my carcass in some sort of shape to continue...and a big part of that was having some real food! No Red Seal chef nor Michelin-starred restaurant has ever prepared such a delicious, gratefully received meal as that breakfast bagel. It was exactly what I needed - every hot, salty, drippy-egg-yolk-y bite helped to bring me back to life.
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| Almost human again. Almost. |
I finished stuffing my face and got myself ready to go again by the time Dee and Nat were back, so off we went - to their surprise, as they'd thought I was going to rest much longer. I have to say that the 4x4x48(ish) challenge I did back in May was invaluable training for this race, as well as years of the 100 runs in 100 days. I've heard so many people say they struggle with getting moving again once they stop, but having the experience of having done so again and again, on tired legs with a sore, exhausted body, and knowing that it only seems impossible until you get past the first awkward minute or two, really made it...well, not easy, but at least there was never any question in my mind about whether or not I could continue.
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| Don't think about it - just go do the thing (Photo by Dee) |
Nat ended up pacing along with Joe Cleary for awhile, so Dee and I shared a couple of laps together on our own, covering such varied conversation topics as dealing with pain during an ultra, my colourful history of injuries, having been an absolute terror of a kid for my parents to raise (which I'm sure comes as a surprise to no-one), and probably some other things I can't recall right now.
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| My philosophy in a nutshell |
Nat joined us again as the wind kicked up even further, blowing through periods of cloud and rain and sun again with dizzying speed. I seemed to constantly be stopping to change up clothing: add a sweater, ditch it again when the sun came out, add a wind vest when the clouds darkened the skies once more, gnash my teeth at yet another spatter of rain. I also had to task Tanker with adding some guylines to the windward side of the tent: the wind came whipping across the meadow with no obstacles to impede it, as there were only a few small trees and it had the whole cornfield to the west to pick up strength. For convenience, we'd pitched it with the door facing west, so it would be right along side the course...but that left it very vulnerable to the gusts, and I didn't want it to be blown right off the steep hill atop which it was perched! Fortunately he got it tied down securely, though it would billow and rattle quite alarmingly for the rest of the event.
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| The forest still sheltered us from the bluster, and looked beautiful in the sun |
Once again, I was having trouble multi-tasking: chatting with Dee and Nat was a welcome distraction from my failing body (though the magic mixture of coffee + B12 had me moving pretty well again), but I'd keep forgetting to eat and drink. I carried a baggie of 3 of my homemade crisp rice squares around in the pocket of my vest for 2 laps, completely forgetting to actually eat any of them for close to an hour. The merry-go-round of wind, bits of rain, and moments of sun continued, with us never knowing what the next minute would bring.
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| This shot by Nat captures some of the variability - fresh clouds blowing in as I head down the long hill |
Dee disappeared - I'm not precisely sure when, though I regret not having said goodbye and offering thanks for her companionship, especially after she'd already run another event at Shades Mills that morning in the chilly rain and wind - but Nat hung around a little while longer, staying until close to 5pm. Their cheerful company helped immensely to keep my spirits high and my feet moving forward, and I'm so thankful for both of them agreeing to come out to join me.
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| I'm so grateful to have such wonderful friends |
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| Not that the big hill was the only one I double-poled up |
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| Though my delight in seeing my own shadow in the sun did have me wondering if I'm part groundhog.. |
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| Because math wasn't really happening by this point. |
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| Some of the last rays of sun, far out over the cornfield |
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| A parting hug by the scenic portajohns |
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| Step forward, then repeat. Quite simple, really. |
Evening was drawing in again, with the earliest sunset time yet - 6:38pm. Scher arrived with A&W for her and Tank; I'd let her know that I'd be fine, as I'd barely made a dent in the mountain of food we'd brought with us, and I had no reason to stop yet...although by now I was doing so every 3 or 4 laps at most, just desperately needing to give my aching feet a break. I didn't have a pacer coming for Saturday night: I figured if I needed something to keep me moving, I'd just pull out the earbuds I'd brought along and fire up my phone with some tunes.
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| The sky behind base camp got all dramatic around sunset |
There was even a tiny rainbow!
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| A bit on the stumpy side, but I was in no position to be picky |
I knew I'd probably need one more nap to get me through to the finish, but I wasn't quite ready yet - I was at 109 laps, with rain predicted to start any minute. I wanted to get as much mileage in as I could before it got wetter and muddier, so headed out for one more.
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| I was already in a jacket anyway, to keep me warm in the howling wind |
By the end of lap 110 (about 194.5km), I knew I needed to rest whether it rained or not - I was down to that awkward stagger again, and figured I might as well get my head down (and feet up) so I didn't have to go through that transition period from dusk to darkness that can play tricks with your vision and make fatigue even more difficult to deal with. I also needed a good, solid meal again: I'd done very poorly with fueling during the day, distracted as I had been by my companions. By 6:30pm I was in the tent - just as the rain began to patter on the roof - making myself a monstrous ham sandwich. I'd sort of forgotten that we'd brought lunchmeat to make wraps and sandwiches, along with a lot of other things that had slipped my mind. If (ok, when) I do something like this again, I think I should make up a menu board or something so I can have a better idea of what we have on offer, as there were a few things that I found in either the cooler or the tote of food after the thing was over that had me slapping my forehead and saying "I wish I remembered we had those!"
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| I was also going for a shoe change - I'd been in these for 11hrs and 21 laps |
I had not, however, forgotten about the butter tarts. I scarfed back another one as dessert after my giant sammich, plus getting my shoes off so my abused feet could breathe a bit. I left the socks the heck alone, though: the leukotape on the balls of both feet, plus on the side of my right foot, was all stuck firmly to the socks...but nothing was painful, so I wasn't going to mess with what was working! I also figured out a new plan to keep my feet warm while I was in the tent: I'd brought a pair of road shoes with me, not knowing what the trail would be like in advance. Clearly they'd do me no good out there, but for sitting in the tent and eating, or for popping out behind it for a wee, they were nice and wide and had cushy soles. They were officially dubbed my "bedroom slippers", and did admirable service for the rest of the event!
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| Dree snapped this amazing shot at twilight on Saturday - by |
It was 7:30pm by the time I'd got myself all arranged with a dry bra and shirt, popped earplugs in, and swung my feet up on the pile of pillows. This was going to be the coldest night of the whole shebang, so I was grateful that Tank had moved the cot and re-staked the side panels to minimize the dripping and gusting that had been problematic earlier on. The wind still gusted across the meadow and shook the tent vigorously, not having dropped a bit as darkness fell. It was going to be a wild ride, so I hoped I'd be able to get some good rest before taking on the night.
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| Clay, Gary, Jennifer-Anne, and Scher hanging out in the aid station tent - I believe that's Gillian outside watching for runners (Photo by Tanker) |
Two hours of sleep later, I awoke shivering at 9:30pm with rain still tapping away on the tent. Scher and Tank came inside to check on me (he never did actually get a nap in while Scher was there, which sort of defeated the point of her being there, though I was very grateful she came!), and let me know it was supposed to continue raining for the next hour and a half by what they could see on radar. Maybe I should just get some more sleep?
Honestly, if I had to pick one moment in the whole 72hrs to be proud of, this would be it: while people who care about me urged me to rest, I instead shoved a muffin into me, then got myself into a pair of running pants (overtop of my compression tights), my fleece skirt, my 5th pair of trail shoes - an old pair of Altra Olympus 2.0 that I call my "bad idea" shoes, because they have aggressively lugged soles but plush cushioning, which sometimes leads me to try things I probably ought not to. In retrospect, this probably qualified. On with my hat, headlamp, insulated jacket, rain jacket, waist light, and a fresh pair of gloves, then pause to give Scher a huge hug and try to offer my undying gratitude for her coming out for all 3 days of this madness, as she was going to start her final more-than-an-hour trip home. It took me forever before I was ready, but at 10:15pm I marched myself out of that tent and into the rain being blown directly in my face by 40+kph winds.
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| Don't think - just go |
As always, the course had deteriorated while I slept, with some sections now truly frightening in their soupy slipperiness. However, just like Friday night, some new signs had turned up while I napped the evening away - they were totally appropriate for the Stahr Wahrs Ultra, and made me smile even as I was pelted with raindrops.
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| Admiral Ackbar marked the climb into the forest on the main trail |
While they hadn't been out as Friday became Saturday, the runway lights at the halfway mark made their return in spectacular fashion for the final night of the dance:
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| So bright and cheery in the darkness |
Coming to the climb out of the woods loop, I learned that Qui Gon Jinn is a damn dirty liar:
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| Neat you're gonna tell me it's not wet out.. |
Han Solo was more my kind of guy - he appeared at the bottom of the big stinkin' hill, and we shared the same sentiment:
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| If it weren't for my poles, I'd still be at the bottom of that hill, crumpled and whimpering |
Once you emerged on the final stretch through the meadow, a friendly beaver appeared to wish you luck in dealing with the increasingly slippery mud that led to the start/finish.
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| Thanks, buddy - I'm gonna need it! |
Fortunately the rain lasted significantly less than the 90mins I'd been led to expect, but that was about the only thing that really went well for me through that night. I spent the first couple of hours out there alone; the 12hr would have ended while I was napping, but I heard that most people stopped early anyway. Brian had trouble with his calf locking up, so was done after 25 laps - Moy hadn't been healthy coming in, and cut herself off at 15 laps. Maria did 41 laps while Lynn completed 30 for her first ultra by 9:15pm, and Joe was done 50.98km (29 laps) by 10pm. Apparently Monica had also had enough: she reached the 200km mark (114 laps) right around the time I was munching a butter tart and getting ready for my nap, and decided that was all she needed to accomplish. Me? I was still trying to make it that far, though I'd been at it an extra ~9.5hrs.
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| At least I wasn't getting any wetter, for the moment |
I don't really mind being alone on the trail, even in the dark and windy night, but I think some folks might have sort of forgotten that there was still someone out there. I came in from a loop and tried to yell for Tank, who had the tent zipped up tight against the wind - between my hoarseness from fatigue and him watching a hockey game on his phone with the volume turned up (he's an Edmonton Oilers fan, so the games tend to run rather late), he didn't hear me, and I wasn't in any shape to try to bend over and unzip the tent myself. It took me more than a minute of whapping at the door of the tent and shouting as best I could to get his attention to come and help me with what I needed.
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| It's not a great feeling when your crew is too occupied with other things and you're completely incapable of helping yourself |
That same hoarseness was still upon me as I passed the start/finish on my 114th lap, and no-one seemed to notice. I shouted as best I could, variations on "may I have a dot please?", "COULD SOMEONE PLEASE MARK MY 200KM LAP?", but again it took forever to get anyone's attention long enough for them to ask "Oh, who's that?". "THE ONLY HECKIN PERSON OUT IN THIS GAWDFORSAKEN NIGHT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH", I completely failed to holler - instead, once I was relatively assured someone would actually mark the lap for me, I breathed a weak "Thank you" before heading out to finish lap 115 and collapsing into a chair in our tent.
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| 12:26am - it was officially Sunday! |
Remember how I said I got chilled really quickly? That certainly hadn't improved, and I began to shiver as I ate my celebratory cupcake. Fortunately we'd come prepared for cold: Tank, remorseful for his earlier inattention, lit up the propane heater we'd brought for just such an occasion.
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| For his own benefit, as well - when I'd come into the tent he'd been wrapped in a blanket |
I was quite tired, and said so - Tank suggested I go for another nap, but I protested I'd only just got up from one. He tried to convince me I had nothing to prove by going out there again: why not just get a few hours of sleep while it was miserable out? I got a bit indignant with him, saying that sleeping for 7 hours and then putting in one more lap didn't really count as finishing the 72hrs. It was not a bueno mood in the tent at that point, and I had already been sitting for half an hour. I knew I needed to get up and out again, and that's precisely what I did. I didn't want to go for another nap at all: I'd hoped I'd be able to push through the final 11 hours to get in as much distance as possible.
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| Besides, the sky was clearing as I stomped off again at 1am |
I didn't dwell on the negativity, but I didn't really want to invite any more, either, so I may have passed by the tent completely on my next few laps. I had rather a low moment when I needed some water and tried to refill my bottle myself from the big jug by the aid station tent (to which Gary had now returned, and was very good at paying attention to an approaching headlamp, so I had no further trouble getting laps recorded at least). Tanker had put the lid on, and in my exhausted, weakened state I struggled nearly to the point of tears before I was able to get it unthreaded to fill it.
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| The aid station on Saturday night (Photo by Clay) |
The rain returned, and the mud got still worse. I started making silly mistakes: every single time I'd use the portajohn from the time I put gloves on, I'd take them off as I sat down so I'd have bare (sanitizer-friendly) hands to use. Somewhere around 2am I erred by not removing my gloves, and when I deployed toilet paper after a wee, I discovered that perhaps that wasn't the only liquid that had...ahem...escaped. This other substance now soaked the fingertips of my right glove, and the stench was practically intolerable. I pumped sanitizer onto the glove and rubbed it in as best I could to try to kill any bacteria before the contaminated everything I touched, but I wanted to keep moving while I was able so it would be some time before I could actually change out of the soiled gloves.
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| And here's a picture of the moon behind some dramatic clouds to hopefully help you forget about the entire last paragraph |
I could only make it about 2-3 laps at a time before I'd need to sit down for a few minutes, but at least Tank and I had moved past our rough patch and I could rely on him to help when I needed it. I tried another cup of coffee plus a spritz of B12 around 2:30am, but by 4-ish I had become so fatigued that I was getting clumsy. I managed one more lap for a total of 121 (just shy of 214km) before stumbling into the tent once again, knowing I had a choice: I could take one more nap - sleeping the rest of the darkness away and trying again at first light - or I could try to struggle on, and run the risk of tripping over a root or stump and injuring myself badly enough that I couldn't continue. You might think I took the soft option by conceding to one last sleep, but it worked out well: just as I stumbled inside and began to strip off my wet clothing, another blast of rain began to soak the tent.
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| I think my insta story from 4:37am sums it up pretty well |
I wanted some hot food, and finally remembered that we had all the fixings on hand to make them, so I asked Tank to grill me a cheese. That sweet man made magic happen for me in the black, pre-dawn hours of the morning!
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| When he saw how much I enjoyed it, he made one for himself as well |
It was 5:30am before I finally got my head down for one last snooze, partly because I took the time to lay out everything I'd want when I arose. I'd have no time to waste once the light returned! Tank went off to the car to have a nap as well, and I hoped he'd get good rest as he'd be the one driving us home. I was awoken by a racket around 6:45am, penetrating even through my earplugs - Patty had finished her 100 mile lap, and was now done. I dozed off again briefly before my alarm went off at 7am sharp, hopping off the cot (ok, slowly unfolding myself while hanging onto the chair until I was sure my legs would support me), and wrestled myself back into my insulated jacket and chosen accoutrements for the final 2 hours. I grabbed a stroopwafel (which proved to be really hard to eat when it's cold!) and stepped out into the morning precisely one minute after official sunrise.
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| View through the trees behind the tent at 7:11am |
My first stop was the portajohns, as I had got myself moving quickly enough to avoid another wee behind the tent (yes, I finished the stroopwafel first, and pulled my gloves off this time!) As it turns out, the combination of that grilled cheezer and the nap was exactly what I'd needed. I was suddenly power hiking again, moving better than I had in the prior 24hrs. I'm sure that it was partly smelling the barn after being out there for so long, and wanting to finish strong with no reason to save anything for later.
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| It's also possible that my outfit gave me the power of the darkside |
The mud was the worst yet, but I'd stuck with the bad idea shoes, and between them and the poles I could just barely keep myself on my feet through the super slick sections through the meadow, over to the portajohns, and where you turn into the woods at the bottom of the long hill. I had a bit of an emotional moment when I realized I was really going to make it to the end of this thing, and got a bit choked up about it for a few steps.
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| Unless there were ninjas cutting onions hiding in the fleeting darkness |
Byron was out on course as well - the only other person that was, having shown up to lay down as many laps as he could in the last 3 hours. As I came in from my first lap of the morning I saw Brad starting to pack up his tent, while Patty's crew did the same with her gear. I had another wave of overwhelming emotion hit me when I realized I'd be the only one to go the full 72 hours, which had me a bit choked up again.
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| You're right, Admiral - just keep moving! |
Byron came swooping by and asked how I was doing, and I gave my usual response "upright, breathing, and still moving" - he thought for a second then realised "Oh yeah - you've been out here for the whole thing, right? What's wrong with you?" I just laughed: there wasn't enough time in the world to get into that laundry list! I mean, the odours alone - I swear I've never smelled anywhere near that bad before, even after a week of sweaty backpacking. Then again, I've never spent ~40 hours in the same set of compression tights before, either. I had tried cleaning myself up at various points with some wet wipes, but sometimes it was too cold (or at least I was too chilled) to do so, and there's only so much a little scrap of damp cloth can do anyway.
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| Yeah, and I smell like a rosebush - lying jedi scum! |
Coming in from my second lap, I knew I had time for at least one more, so I knocked on the window of the car as I came past to wake up Tank (the one and only time I actually woke him up) - I told him he had 25mins to get his boots on if he wanted to join me for my final lap, then shuffled away across the muddy wasteland toward the portajohns.
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| The sky just kept getting prettier |
It was more like 22mins by the time I was back again, which doesn't sound impressive but was a surprising feat for me after 71 hours of movement.
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| It wasn't that I didn't hurt - I just didn't care anymore |
Tank actually struggled a bit to keep up with me, because I'd taken it into my head that - despite having averaged 2 laps per hour for a couple of days now - I was going to try to finish this thing off with 4 laps in less than two hours. My cadence was quick, my poles were pistoning along, and I was gettin'er done.
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| While the dawn put on a show for all of us |
I dropped Tank off at the start/finish after my 124th lap, and motored off to give everything I had for one last loop.
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| One last time up the nasty climb |
I had to take my time through the meadow at the top of the hill, as the mud there was the worst of all - it threatened with every step to take my feet from under me, requiring almost a skating sort of shuffle than a proper walk.
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| DANGER |
As I crested the top on the final stretch, I could see Clay and Dree in their storm trooper helmets, along with Tanker already beginning to cheer me in.
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| I was the only one who went the whole 72hrs |
I reached the final gentle downhill, and saw that it was all soft, trampled grass - no slippery mud. So, I said "heck it" (or some variation on that), and broke into a run.
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| Because dammit, I started this thing running - might as well finish it the same way |
I ran the whole final 20 metres or so, right across the start/finish line.
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| Strangely, my knee didn't even hurt doing it! |
I stopped my watch at 71 hours, 52 minutes, and 42 seconds
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| (The mileage it shows is off a bit, but the full data is here) |
Official total: 125 laps / 136.5mi / 221km
(2nd of 3 by distance in the 72hr)
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| Myself, Tank, and organizer Clay afterward |
The final tally:
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| One dot in each corner of each square per lap, then an X through them all to make 5 laps per square |
Unbelievably, 2mins later I looked west and saw that a proper rainbow had sprung up over the meadow!
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| You can't make this stuff up, folks |
While the amount of time I spent off course was not ideal - with major breaks/naps alone, it totaled 19+ hours, so if you add in the little 5min breaks I took regularly from Friday night onward I spent almost a full day out of the three not moving - I'm reasonably happy with this as my first multi-day ultra. I certainly could have done better had I not shown up to the start line nursing some injuries, or suffered even further ones within the first half of the event.
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| Most people ditched theirs, but I wore my bib throughout...and it ended up in almost as sad condition as I did! |
There were some things I did well - like my ability to get moving again after a stop, and the fact I didn't really have any terribly low points where I felt depressed or like I wanted to quit - but other things on which I'd like to improve for future races of this type. I'd definitely try to put off that first nap until I was actually feeling sleepy, and would try to ensure that my shoes and nutrition were both a little fresher - most of the stuff I ate (apart from the cookies, muffins, cupcakes, and butter tarts that I bought a few days beforehand) was expired, including my vitamin B12 spray. I didn't have any stomach issues, though (even after the unrefrigerated chicken lunch on Friday afternoon), had no real chafing, and only a few blisters.
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| Same thing, right? |
I definitely need to work on my awareness of my foot issues: I might have needed fewer rest breaks had I not laced my NB KOM shoes too tightly on Friday morning, or had I changed out (or at least eased off the laces) of the too-narrow Salomon Speedcross on Friday night. Heck, it might have helped if any of the shoes I wore was less than about 5 years old, and none of them had less than ~250km on them (I do keep track) - the Leadville 3s that I wore for most of the first 24hrs had closer to 350km when I set off (over 400km by the time I took them off), and the 1210v2s & Olympus had about 300km to begin with.
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| The whole fleet, prior to a good bath for both pairs of Saturday shoes. |
I'm incredibly grateful to Clay for organizing this event, and giving me the opportunity to dip my toe into the world of multi-day ultras and explore what I am capable of. I'm deeply grateful to all of the volunteers as well = other than the one moment of difficulty in getting that late-night lap recorded while the weather howled around me, I couldn't have asked for better support and structure...only maybe try to shave down that hill for next time, ok?
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| I will always treasure my medallion and links |
I will again offer my heartfelt gratitude to my friends Divya, Dee, Nat, and Colin for their companionship (and patiently listening to me carry on) while sharing laps with me; to our friend Dave who came out on Sunday morning to help Tank pack up the tent (as I was utterly useless by that point); to Rich for graciously seeing me through a rough night on Friday with kindness and great company; to Scheherazade for coming out a very long way to support me for all three evenings (and for her incredible cooking!)...but the biggest thanks have to go to my absolute rock who was there for me every moment.
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| I'm sorry for the things I said while I was tired - I love you to bits, and I couldn't possibly do this without you in my corner! |
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| And let's face it: sooner or later, I probably will! |
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| By the next day it was all sort of a blur.. |
Thanks for reading along - you had to know it would be three parts, 'cause everyone knows it's the Stahr Wahrs trilogy!
Total respect K. I'm glad you kept those vultures a kettle and not a wake. The bath or shower when you got home must have felt awesome. Well done to Tanker too. Grill cheese in the middle of the night. That guy is a keeper. See you on the trails in 2022!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Neil - can't wait for a whole new year of trails!
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