Sunburn Solstice Trail Race Half Solstice - Saturday, June 25th, 2022

Going in injured and exhausted (yeah, again) to a race on one of the hottest days of the year?

How bad could it be?

Before we proceed, I'll warn you: this race report is gonna get a little gross. Biology is messy, trail racing is messy, and when you put the two together and let someone with almost no filter talk about it? Hoo boy, you're in for a ride. Please bear that in mind, and don't send me nasty notes later - I warned you, and you're more than welcome to click away to something more palatable. Here's a collection of photos of puppies and kittens, just as a suggestion.

Still with me? Ok - onward, then.

The nice thing about a race that doesn't start until the day is literally half over is that you don't have to crawl out of bed at some absurd hour to make it on time. We actually did get up relatively early to hit the farmers' market beforehand, then booted on down through the sunshine to Marydale Park for a little after noon.

Definitely a much nicer day than the last time we made this trip!

I got to say hello to a bunch of people as they either came through the start/finish before heading out for another lap, or after they finished the quarter-solstice (which spanned from 9am to 12:51pm). It was a bit alarming to see the number of people sporting scrapes from tumbles on the course, especially since I'd decided (based on my memories of it being very non-technical) to go with a pair of road shoes for their support and cushion rather than trail shoes. I saw what looked like mud on some people's ankles as well, and wondered how there could be mud when it had been so dry? Upon closer inspection it turned out to just be dust from the trail mixed with sweat, but I still made a note to be careful of my footing so I wouldn't join the bleeding ranks of those with skinned knees.

I was shockingly non-nervous about my own race - while I said I didn't really have any goals except not hating my life decisions too much by the end of it, I also quite wanted to get at least 50k in. The heat and my ankle would definitely make that a challenge, which sounds pretty sad: I'd have almost 8 hours on a nearly flat course (which by all reports was in great condition), but still wasn't sure I'd make it.

It had taken me almost an hour more than that for my last 50k

I was going to give myself as many tools for success as I could think of, though: as you can see above I wore a long-sleeve cooling shirt (with pockets at the lower back and back of the neck specifically for holding ice), a wet cotton bandana tied around my neck, and an already salt-stained cotton trucker hat with a mesh back. I'd still be hot, but not for lack of trying!

I hit the washrooms before the start, and discovered that nature was having a laugh at me: my period had arrived with spectacular timing. Nothing I could do about that - I hadn't brought a cup or tampons, and I wouldn't have used them even if I had due to my personal experiences with them. I don't mind their effects on my abdomen so much if I'm just walking, hiking, paddling, or sitting, but I've never been totally comfortable running with them and would not subject myself to anything that could cause unpleasant sensations in what was already going to be a long, difficult day. So, I'd just have to go with the flow..

Listen: I warned you. Puppies and kittens are still an option.

I tried sticking my little Stasher bag of fuzzy peaches in the pocket of my skirt (after downing a couple, because I'd eaten my pre-race oatmeal 3 hours earlier and was a bit peckish), but it turned out this particular skirt's pockets were a bit too small and the silicone of the bag a bit too sticky to make that work; I could have finagled it in there with some patience, but I wouldn't be able to put it back without stopping, so I figured I'd just take in calories after each lap at the aid station. I did put an emergency gel in one pocket in case I found myself in need of it, and stashed my little collapsible silicone cup in the other pocket to fill with water at the turn-around and splash on my chest. Tank was sweet enough to fill my hand bottles for me while I hit the loo one last time, so (after applying one last bit of anti-chafe lube) I grabbed one from him, got myself a smooch, and lined up with 36 other people for the 1:22pm start. A 10-second countdown, and then we were off!

I'd see this arch a few more times throughout the day

So the other thing about starting a race halfway through a day is that it's already hot, and the sun is basically at its peak. The first few hundred metres of the 4km loop - a paved pathway winding across an open field - were absolutely baking.

It's 20 seconds in and I'm already dying

Because of my stupid, cranky ankle, almost 100% of my training "runs" have been some variation of run/walk - sometimes mostly walking, sometimes mostly running. This meant that even while fresh, I didn't have much in the way of running legs, but I resolved that I'd do my utmost to run the paved sections of the course on every lap. 

Just as you reach the end of the pavement and turn into the woods, there's a sign at which I had to laugh - I'd noticed it at the snowshoe race in February, on a day when it actually seemed appropriate. In the sweltering heat of June, though..

This felt more like a cruel tease

Left into a beautifully shaded stand of evergreen trees.

Taken later in the day - don't expect chronology from course photos!

It seemed the 3 years since my first Sunburn Solstice experience had wrought some changes to the trail conditions - I remembered there being a few roots in the pines here and there, but erosion seems to have brought many more to the surface.

Didn't matter much to me - I walked this section anyway

The trees give way to a clearing filled with wildflowers and sunshine - honestly one of the prettiest places on the course, but also one of the hottest!

Shaded from the wind on all sides by the trees, the trapped heat from the sun was stifling

Right-hand curve through trees and shade once more, I'd make myself start running again once I hit the grassy singletrack.

Knowing that it would turn sharply right, and take me down a tree-lined hill.

The greatest temptation on the whole course lay here: a pristine dock floating on an inviting-looking lake.

If you weren't at least a little inclined to jump in, I'm not sure you're actually human

There was some newly-laid aggregate and gravel at the bottom of the hill - I swear it used to be woodchips - then up a gentle slope and into the embrace of more forest.

I walked this slope on every lap

..but I would try to run again through here.

A bit further through the woods, you finally hit the 1km marker:

Hard to read, but it says "YOU LOOK HOT" - it was right, I was!

The trail curves away from the fence line toward the lake, bringing you to the first wooden footbridge.

Shadeless but beautiful

You'll meander along the shore of the lake for a bit, which lets you catch a bit of the breeze off the water.

Then you turn back into the shade of the trees once more

Not far from here, you'll reach the only divergence from the main trail through the park: a left turn marked by an arrow sign.

Follow the sign and flags

Out toward the lake once more

There's a lovely bench at the apex of this little side loop - which adds maybe 50 metres to the course versus the main trail - that would make a wonderful place for a picnic.

Or just a heckin' rest on a hot day

But no rest for me - away from the lake and into the trees once again, to start on the gently rolling part of the course.

The downhills were helpful - the uphills, less so.

Just after passing the gate that marks the start of the out-and-back section, you climb a small rise, then run downhill and over another wooden footbridge that I always think of as the real jewel of the course.

Stunning in any season, but radiant in the bright mid-day sun

Up a hill on the other side, then down quite a steep pine needle-strewn decline.

There were just enough exposed roots that you couldn't really let loose on this one without risk of bodily harm

Emerging from the shade, you finally reach the halfway point of the loop! 

With a small sign saying "YOU'RE LOOKING EVEN HOTTER"

This is now the part of the course where the most noticeable (at least to me) changes had taken place since 2019. Where there had previously been a puddle and a muddy spot due to dips in the trail, there was now a mass of aggregate.

I wondered if the pointy stones would have me regretting my shoe choice - road shoes don't have rock plates!

This was also where the amazing Sue Sitki set herself up for the afternoon, catching runners outbound on the out-and-back.

Between marshy areas of tall grasses

I found it difficult to get good photos of the switchbacked hill - downhill outbound, and uphill returning - as the foliage had grown up significantly between its curves. 

Shown going downhill - first a left turn, then curve right, then curve left again before exiting at the bottom

Onward through the woods - there was more shade than I remembered on the course, possibly because some of the saplings had matured a bit in the last 3 years, becoming tall enough to create more of a canopy than in the first edition of this race.

Which is not to say there weren't many exposed, sunny sections

Up a gentle rise - off the trail and onto the grass if there was traffic coming from the turn-around

Once again, I think I walked this every time

A bit of a flat spot, then a short rise to the gate!

Hallelujah!

In the afternoon heat of 2019, Race Director Jeff set up tables with water at the turn-around - unfortunately, due to either logistics or perhaps a poor experience (I didn't inquire about details), this was not repeated in 2022. I wouldn't have a use for my little silicone cup after all.

Around the loop, counter-clockwise

There were compensations, though - the huge bush in the centre of the turn-around loop was covered in deliciously scented roses.

Definitely the best thing I'd smell all day

A gap in the trees also brought - as you came around the curve to head back toward the gate - the most delightful cool breeze off the marsh and water below the hill.

With my cooling shirt now soaked with sweat, the breeze was practically like air conditioning!

Then it was back through the gate and down the little hill to do the last bit in reverse.

Still nearly a mile to go to the start/finish

The out-and-back provides loads of opportunity to see and share a kind word with other runners.

Even if it's a bit narrow in places for two runners to pass

Back through sun and shade, then up the switchback toward the 3km mark

Just up ahead

It took me a few laps to figure out what the 3k sign said:

"HAVE YOU TRIED THE JOSH GOODWIN MIST TENT?"

This was a real thing: there was a red-roofed pavilion tent just past the start/finish arch, to the right of the paved pathway, that would shower you with a mist of water if you stood under it...or if the wind happened to gust as you were coming past it. 

Further along, the longest of the wooden footbridges spans a marshy section in a dip between two small hills.

I don't believe I got a single outbound photo of this one

Past the trail to the Observation Tower - one of these days I really need to go check that out!
 

..only maybe not when I'm racing, especially when it's hot as balls out.

Now for the biggest climb of the whole course: remember that root-strewn hill we got to run down earlier?

There would be no running for me in the other direction

This is honestly the only steep climb on the whole loop, and it's probably a shade less than 100 metres long and only maybe 4 metres high. I had brought trekking poles with me in case I wanted them for later in the race, but this was the only place that they'd really be much of an asset for climbing. I hadn't brought a vest at all so I'd have no place to stash the poles if I took them out and didn't want them, so I strongly suspected they'd spend the day tied to the UltraCooler™.

Up a sun-drenched climb, you see the little gravel bit leading to this bench from halfway up:

..and on every single loop it would trick me into thinking it was the gate to the start/finish

Even though I knew I still had one more hill to climb after crossing the "jewel" footbridge.

Beginning at this log

Cresting the top, you'll finally see the left turn arrow to lead you off of the trail:

Nearly there!

Just one minor detail: two pairs of shallow stone steps to climb before you reach the grass-covered field

I made another runner laugh when I said "I'm going to have to speak to the manager about these stairs"

You're not quite home free yet - there's still at least a hundred metres of uneven grass, curving around toward the parking lot.

 

With a sketchy ankle, I decided I'd walk the grass

There's a patch of interlock stone as you cross the top of the parking area, then the paved path resumes as you approach the giant shelter that housed the only aid station on course.

I'd make myself start running as soon as I'd hit the pavement

Right turn at the shelter, then back out to do it all again!

Well, except I actually stopped at the aid station after every lap.

I came into the aid station from my first lap just barely under 30mins, which was about where I'd hoped to be based on my lack of fitness. My ankle was cooperating decently, but was still not particularly happy, and overall I felt very slow, unfit, and generally awkward. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, but not particularly encouraging. I had a nasty feeling that the first lap would be my fastest by a large margin, and things would deteriorate quickly.

The course profile is arguably very flat, but I'd come to rely heavily on the little downhills

Tanker offered me a slice of watermelon when I came in, which I gratefully gobbled, then grabbed a full hand bottle from the UltraCooler™ - I'd drunk about 2/3 of the one I'd carried on my first lap - downed an S!cap to try to stay ahead on salt intake, dropped off my phone, soaked down my bandana, and headed out again for my second lap with about 31mins of time elapsed.

The bandana would drip water onto the cooling shirt, activating the fabric
(We'll just ignore that this photo was obviously taken at some other time)

Tanker had offered me ice at the aid station, but I knew that the heat would only continue to build through the first two to three hours, so I held off for the moment: it wasn't so much the weather that was my limiting factor as my lack of fitness and pace control. I have a tendency to run faster than I ought to during the "run" segments of a run/walk, which tires me out more than if I were able to just amble along at a more moderate pace. 

I'm sure I frustrated the heck out of one of the ladies in the half, whom I'd pass while running and then be passed by when I dropped to a walk - she was an absolute machine who just kept running the whole way, regardless of terrain or heat!

I also might have had an easier time with digestion if I didn't try running so "fast" down the paved path - I had a really awful watermelon burp while trotting along that I could well have done without.

As I approached Sue Sitki in the newly aggregate-covered stretch on my second lap, she called out "Are you sore?" - I told her my ankle was a jerk, and she said "I knew there was something off". Jeez, you know you're moving awkwardly when even the photographer (who admittedly has seen me run in dozens of events over the last several years, in all sorts of conditions) can tell you're favouring something. 

At least I could still fly a little

This got me thinking about my stride, though: if I was running in a way that was visibly off, I was likely to do myself some accessory damage over the course of several hours. I made an effort to focus on swinging my right leg through and allowing the knee to flex on foot plant, as I tend to stiffen and straighten my right leg in an ill-guided attempt to "save" my ankle (while ironically making it absorb more of the impact from my stride). I started to find a little more flow once I did so, and my ankle responded positively. Good deal!

Map of the course - you go clockwise through the loop section, then out to Tyneside Road and back to the gate, then cut across the field to the start/finish

Lap 2 went a little better - actually a hair faster than my first, as I didn't have the conga line of people ahead of me on the paved pathway. I suspected the heat was beginning to be a factor, though, as I was definitely feeling it a bit more during my run intervals; the solar radiation from the cloudless sky wasn't helping, either. So, when I got in I asked Tank for one of the popsicles I'd seen earlier.

They were gone, but I got a freezie instead!

The freezie was cold and delicious, but the citric acid in it sort of scorched my mouth and throat - not especially bueno when I still had more than six hours to go. I tried to ignore it, and just kept drinking water as I trotted along.

It was taking a lot of effort not to just melt into a puddle

Water was something I was starting to get concerned about - I'd polished off at least 3/4 of my bottle on my second lap, and with no refill point on the course I'd have to make a single hand bottle last the full 4km no matter how slow and pokey I got throughout the day. I mean, I did have 2 hand bottles at the race, so if need be I could carry both, but I hate not having a hand free and a second bottle would mean hauling around more weight. 

After my third lap -which was just barely over 30mins - I downed another S!cap and one of my homemade maple crisp rice squares, and finally asked Tank to load my lower back and back-of-neck pockets with ice, which he did to the point that I clanked when I ran! My hands were swelling alarmingly as the day just kept getting hotter - I probably should have tried 2 salt tabs per hour (as is recommended in very hot conditions), but honestly didn't really think of it.

I was too busy with the job at hand, and having a friendly word with old friends like Ontario ultra legend Ron G. here

I was through my 4th lap in about 2h4m, and things were already starting to go downhill, so I had a gluten free Oreo cookie as compensation. The shoes I was wearing were relatively new - I'd never run more than 12km in them (which was also my longest run since Pick Your Poison 8 weeks prior), and now that I was past 10 miles I was discovering the particular shoe/sock combination I was wearing was causing a hotspot to form under where my left big toe meets the ball of my foot. My lower back was also getting sore - partly from hormones (my lower back is almost always cranky when I get my period), and probably partly due to poor posture as I climbed the one steep hill plus the pounding of running downhill. My left hamstrings were really grouchy, too, due to the ongoing nerve compression in my lower back; every downhill put just a little more pressure on it, but all I could do was try to engage my abs to support my spine and keep my pelvis aligned as best I could.

Oh, and walk a lot

Oh, and for about an hour, I had the unpleasant experience of feeling like my nethers were sort of trying to blow a bubble. It wasn't painful or anything, but it was a little distracting as I was trying to run. It did eventually go away, though. On my 5th lap I started to feel some unpleasant chafing sensations on my upper thighs, which confused me a bit as I'd applied SportShield quite liberally before the race, which usually prevents any such thing. I wondered if I ought to have stuck with one of my Sparkle Skirts instead of my InkNBurn one, as they have longer shorts underneath that cover the chub rub portion of my thighs. Then I thought about the dusty legs of other runners I'd seen, and wondered if some dust from the trail had perhaps got stuck in the lube? Lifting my skirt's front panel to have a look, I realized it was a different issue entirely.

Oh bloody hell.
The bubble had burst.

When I got back to the aid station at 4pm on the nose (2h38m in, for a lap time of more like 33mins), I soaked a spare tubular bandana I'd brought and cleaned up the mess on my thighs, then re-applied lube. This cost me a bit of time, as did munching a couple more fuzzy peaches and tossing back another S!cap. I also had to wait a moment for Tank to fill a fresh bottle for me, as he hadn't had a chance while I was out on the loop due to lack of help at the aid station...but at least I didn't have any further chafing sensations as I ran down the paved pathway.

I'll take the small victory there

That was about the only thing that was improving, though my ankle had mostly quit its grumbling around the 2-hour mark. I was coming to realize that I was shorting myself quite a bit on calories, as fuzzy peaches are only about 15cal each, so 3 of them per lap was only about 45cal. The freezie had only been 50cal or less, and same with my homemade crisp rice square. I'd had one Endurance Tap gel in there somewhere (100cal), and the Oreo cookie (only 40cal), but was still under 200cal/hour. I was furthermore concerned about hydration: my fingers were sausage-y to the point I couldn't make a fist, despite trying to stretch my arms up overhead to let gravity help drain the blood from them. I was also running out of water by the end of each lap, so after my 6th lap I asked Tank to start filling my bottles with Skratch electrolyte drink instead of water. I hoped that the sodium and carbohydrate content of the mix would help me absorb more hydration rather than just sweating it out, and maybe slake my thirst a bit better so a bottle would last a full lap.

I was still averaging about 33-35mins per loop, but had no idea how long I'd be able to keep that up

To sort out the calorie issue, I ate a full banana after my 6th lap (which I finished at 3h14m, so about 34mins after I'd left the aid station), and brought a small granola bar out with me to eat through the rolling section of the course where I was doing more walking anyway. Even this top up only amounted to about 200cal in about 15mins, but I didn't want to try to eat much more than that at once for fear of upsetting my stomach. Fortunately, it sat ok, despite the heat. I actually didn't have any GI issues except that one dicey watermelon burp partway through my second lap. I did, however, fart a lot. I mean a LOT. That's another thing that I often find happens due to hormones (which can have a huge impact on digestion), so I apologize to anyone I crop dusted out there!

I swear I tried to avoid anyone when letting loose
(Also: I really did warn you this was going to get gross!)

I finished lap 7 at almost exactly the halfway mark - 3h50m, for a time of about 35mins. I'd come in with a goal of making 14 laps, but I knew that wouldn't be possible, and I was honestly starting to think about just bagging off entirely. My hands were still alarmingly swollen despite my best efforts to stretch my arms above my head on each lap, and my upper and lower back just got grouchier as time went on. My left groin had started complaining quite aggressively - I think it had to do with the side-sloped and deep v-cut nature of some portions of the trail - and the inside of my left knee followed. My lower back and upper back were both getting worse, and I was just generally feeling sore, beat up, and unmotivated. Why not just quit and help Tank at the aid station for the rest of the day? Why not just walk it in?

Why not go jump in the lake?

The siren song of 50k+ was still calling me, though, and I knew there was no way I'd get there if I dawdled. Downing another Endurance Tap gel, I lumbered off down the paved path once more. I also finally did some math and realized the 14 laps I'd set as a goal was actually fifty six kilometers instead of 52, and I didn't even really have to complete the 13th lap in order to make 50k: as long as I could make 12 laps plus out to the 2km marker (where a course marshall would be waiting to record my partial loop in the last 30mins of the race), I could just walk on back to the gate and across the field to the building with an official 50k under my belt. So, a reload with ice (including a generous handful rolled into the bandana around my neck), and onward..

Besides, it was now past 5pm, so it had to start cooling off soon...right?

I also finally noticed that there were trail snacks on the little side loop off the main trail, which I'd actually seen one runner miss on an early lap - I tried to tell the person they'd missed a turn, but they couldn't hear me through their headphones, or didn't care; I reported the person's bib number and error to Race Director Jeff at the aid station, because fair is fair. 

No idea if he missed the turn on subsequent laps, but it seemed most people missed the raspberry bush!

36mins for my 8th lap (4h28m cumulative), and things start to get fuzzier in my recollections by this point. Somewhere after all my ice melted, Tank let me know they now had sponges available - dunked in a big bucket of ice water, I started my 9th lap with it stuffed in the lower back pocket of my shirt, providing a chill that was practically electric...especially when Tank poked it up against my spine after helping me get it tucked in there! I told him "I love you, and also f*ck you!" as I left, to a great deal of laughter.

The shade was growing, but there was still plenty of exposed, sunny trail

34 mins for my 9th lap to bring me to 5h4m, and I was still running all of the pavement, plus quite a few short stretches of trail as well. I had finally noticed that the clock at the start/finish was showing a countdown to the end of the race, so I no longer had to math it out in my head (Tank told me later that happened right when the half started, so I could have had an easier time of things, but I am nothing if not a heckin' idiot). I also had that same odd "blowing a bubble" sensation coming from beneath my skirt, which wasn't so much uncomfortable as just weird. I decided that with 2h35m left it was time to bust out the caffeine, so I scarfed back a sea salt chocolate Gu Roctane gel before beetling off once more. I was finding a lot of other runners out there stopping to stretch cramping muscles, and after asking each one if they were ok, I'd let them know that they could get Saltstick caps from Tanker at the aid station if they asked.

I had noticed some pretty astonishing salt deposits developing on my shirt

Sidebar: I personally use S!caps for electrolyte replacement during races, but those things are expensive and there's only one authorized dealer in Canada that I know of. So, Tanker and I personally pay for a bottle of the (less expensive and more readily available) Saltstick caps that he keeps at the aid station to give out to people. If you have specific desires for nutrition on course, always bring your own! 

Anyhoo..

On my 10th lap, I somehow ended up with a bottle of water instead of a bottle of Skratch, which turned out to be a good thing: I had just taken a sip and was running along, when suddenly a splash hit the outside of my leg! I looked at my bottle and discovered the bite valve had blown right off it! 

Photo taken just now for illustration purposes

It's just a press fit, so I knew that as long as I could find it, I'd be ok. I turned around and saw it just a couple of metres back on the trail, but then I had a problem - how the heck was I going to reach it? Under normal conditions picking things up off the ground isn't too much trouble, but these were not normal conditions: I'd been running for around 5hrs and 20mins by that point, and things below ankle level might as well have been on the moon. The only way I could work out to reach the stinkin' valve was to keep shuffling my feet out sideways until I was practically doing the splits on the trail..

..which I think is when the second bubble burst.

I eventually managed to grab the valve, blorp a bit of water out of the open bottle to rinse off the trail debris, and pop it back in place. In more than 3 years and literally thousands of kilometers of running with this type of bottle, that's the first time that's ever happened! With the loss of a bit of water due to the valve problem, I ran out before I finished the lap, and requested that all subsequent bottles be filled with Skratch anyway.

Strangely enough, it didn't slow me down much - I was still through my 10th lap in 35mins (5h40m cumulative), despite the bottle incident and also having to use my sponge to clean up my bloodstained upper thighs again. I wasted no time at the aid station: I got Tank to re-soak my sponge, slammed an Endurance Tap gel, and blasted off down the paved pathway to try to get 3 laps done in the final 2 hours showing on the clock.

I was mostly carrying the sponge by this point, as I'd found squeezing it against the top of my head provided the best cooling sensation from it

As I approached the 1km mark, I noticed my watch showed that I had been on course for about 5hrs51m, and got confused: I had sworn that the race site had said the half solstice was 7h48m, but the clock at the start/finish had definitely said 2hrs remaining when I passed it to head out. There was a zero percent chance I'd covered the intervening distance in 3 minutes, so that could only mean I was mistaken about how long I'd actually have to complete at least 2.5 laps to make 50k (or 3 full laps to make 52km). CRAP! I hadn't a moment to waste, and pushed myself pretty hard through lap 11, coming in at 6h15m for another 35min loop.

Another sponge re-load with icy water; another sea salt chocolate Gu Roctane rocket fuel gel, and then off down the paved path toward the woods again. It was getting so much more difficult to run the whole thing, but I wanted to try to give myself a bit of a cushion of time for my final lap - I was pretty sure by this point I could get 52k done, but I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot by dawdling.

I was also a seriously tired human by this point

What's crazy is that despite my lack of fitness and long runs in the past few months, I was passing quite a few people as the clock wound down. It might be that the day's heat was finally beginning to dissipate - some pockets of cool air were starting to develop in the marshy areas, and the sun was starting to lose some of its blowlamp quality as it sank. 

Which was both welcome and lovely to witness

It wasn't all great from a weather perspective, though: the blissful breeze at the turn-around had died away, so my wet shirt no longer got deliciously chilled as I walked back toward the gate.

The roses still smelled lovely, though

It might be my dedication to heat management strategies, with the long sleeves protecting me from the worst of the hot day and from an energy-sapping sunburn. It might also just be that I have a lot of years of experience of pushing through pain and fatigue, and a personal philosophy of "if it hurts to walk, you might as well run". Whatever it was, I was able to move pretty efficiently through my final laps while others staggered along in much more evident throes of suffering.

To be clear:  I was hurtin' too, but seemingly coping a bit better

Another 35min lap for #12 (6h52m cumulative), and I decided that I'd let my foot off the gas for my final tour of the course. I picked up my phone, got my sponge re-soaked, ate one more crisp rice square, and proceeded to lollygag.

47m47s left on the clock - I almost had time to just walk it in

...after running down the paved path, of course. It's such a small thing, but a bit of a point of pride that I ran the ~400 steps (call it 350-400m?) of the paved pathway on every single lap - I never even stopped at the misting tent, though the wind did blow some of its spray on me as I passed on a couple of laps. The tactic of changing to Skratch in my bottle and keeping up with 1 S!cap per hour - plus the coming of evening, with ever-expanding cool pockets of air, was finally getting the swelling of my hands to relax a bit.

8:38pm and I can finally make a fist again!

The evening sun was beautiful in the woods.

I adore the golden hour on the trails!

I even walked out past the bench on the little lake side loop to gaze at the setting sun over the water.

Totally worth it!

You could sense people's energy increasing as the clock ran down, as they pushed to meet their goals and wring every possible kilometer out of the daylight. 

Even as darkness fell on some of the most heavily shaded parts of the trail

With every step I told myself I was covering this bit of the trail for the last time, and finally - after a seemingly interminable series of rolling hills, which had apparently gained just a bit of height with every lap - I mounted the stone stairs to the field.

Seriously - heck these stairs!

The sun hovered just above the horizon as I trudged across the field, with just minutes left on the clock.

Home before the street lights come on, yeah?

As I neared the final stretch of pavement before the aid station, I stirred myself into a run one last time, and seemed to drag a few girls I passed in doing so along in my wake. No stopping at the shelter this time - I ran right around the corner and through the arch, with 10mins remaining on the clock.

Can haz chair now plz?

Official distance: 52.0km in 7h30m40s

13/37 O/A - 6/20 Women

(Official results are here - Garmin data is here)

So yes, as I'd confirm later via the website the actual Half Solstice time allotment was 7h41m, not 7h48m. I would have had time to get another kilometer in, but honestly I had no desire to have to walk another kilometer back, so I stopped my watch at the arch and finally came to a rest. Brian M. was kind enough to give me my medal, which meant the obligatory sunset selfie:

Ok now seriously - CHAIR

I hadn't actually brought a chair, but there were plenty of picnic tables under the giant shelter that would serve well enough. I was actually shocked when I checked the results to find out that I hadn't placed too badly overall - heck, only the female overall winner only completed 1 more lap than I did, and I was near the top third of the overall. I had no chafing, only a minor blister on the inside of each of my big toes, and my ankle was surprisingly silent for the last 5 hours or so of the race. My Garmin's run/walk detection says I ran 3h52m and walked 3h17m, with 21m of "idle" time (mostly at the aid station), which is better than I'd have expected going in. No too shabby for an IPOS!

Quite a bit of dirt made its way through my shoes and socks, but I never heard a peep out of the blister on my baby toe all day

My legs haven't even been too badly beat up - I was able to wear (low) heels to attend a wedding the following day, and navigate stairs like a (mostly) normal human being. With a couple of months until my next race, I'm still taking things easy for a bit: I have yet to run since, and have even taken some time off from strength training to give my body some rest. Hopefully I'll be in a bit better condition for the next one!

Relaxing post-race with a fruit-based recovery beverage

As always, the organization and execution of this race was second to none - the whole Happy Trails Racing crew and their incredible volunteers make even suffering in the heat of a scorching day a fun experience, and I'm so grateful for all of the hard work they put in to make it happen! I was also so happy to see so many friends around either on course, volunteering throughout the day and into the night, or just dropping by to say hello: it's so much easier to make the best of things when you're surrounded by friendly faces, all encouraging one another.

I'm also so very grateful to Tanker for his ceaseless efforts to keep me upright and moving while I'm out doing stupid things like wandering around in the woods eating candy for hours on end - I couldn't pull these things off without his support!

And he cleans up pretty well, too!

Hope you all have a fabulous long weekend out there - happy Canada Day and 4th of July to you!

Cheers!