Three Days in the Park 48hr - Friday, October 13th, 2023 - Part 1

When you've already done the 72hr & 24hr at the (unofficial) Stahr Wahrs Ultra, of course you've gotta go back and complete the trilogy!

I've also never done a 48hr, so wanted to see what it was like

I wasn't necessarily in ideal shape for it - I was only 10 weeks past Tally in the Valley 100mi, had messed up my back pretty badly in early September, and I'd just spent 7hrs on quite rugged trails two weeks ago at Monster of Mazinaw. I was out walking with Tank on Thursday evening, and commented that it wasn't exactly encouraging that my SI joints were complaining loudly while just ambling along on a 12 minute stroll around the block. 

Someday I might start something big & stupid without a pre-existing injury, but today was not that day

Panic had set in during the preceding days, but I was fairly serene when I rose at 5:08am to get myself dressed and eat my big honkin' bowl of oatmeal in the dark. I decided that any attempt to tape things together was probably just foolish, so I didn't bother: they'd have to just fall apart on their own.

I did wear some calf panties with my knicks, though, partly because they were theme-appropriate

We got Tank his usual T.Ho's breakfast along the way to the old waste management site that serves as race headquarters - hot, cooked food would be in short supply for the next couple of days - and set about putting up the shelter that would be kitchen, livingroom, and sleeping quarters for me until Sunday.

A cot with a stack of pillows to put my legs up while I nap; a chair with a big, plush, waterproof blanket to wrap myself up in; a 104L plastic bin full of clothing; a cooler; the propane stove, lantern, and heater; and a stool holding my cleaning supply caddy full of candy, cookies, and other bits.
Oh, and Admiral Ackbar to warn me away from sitting down.

I had expected to see a couple of friends, but it seemed day 1 would end up being pretty lonely: Ron was the only competitor in the 72hr, and he'd had a very bad night with hypothermia. He did a handful of laps while I set up and got ready for the start, but he was having trouble warming up even in the brilliant sunshine. The other friend of mine who had registered for the 48hr had to bail, so I was the only entrant for that event.

Run Director Clay joked "Can I get all the 48hr participants over for the pre-race meet- oh, right"

I used the portajohn with a few minutes before the start, and stripped off the layers of warm outerwear I'd worn in the chilly - about 3c/37f - morning to set up, leaving me in just my costume with a stolid wind vest to keep my core warm.

Poor Tank already looks tired, and I know he was probably more worried than I was about all that could go wrong with this mad little venture

When 9am struck, Clay sent me off at a trot to go find out. I carried my phone with me on that first lap, and some candy in my pocket, but no water bottle. It was time to explore the loop, making my 195th lifetime circuit of it since October 2021.

Down the long decline at the edge of the waste management site

The combination of sun and rain over the summer had the same effect on the Borderlands section as everywhere else around KW: weeds grew like mad, engulfing trails. Clay had done a great deal of work with a weed whacker (and possibly a machete) to find the route once more.

It wasn't quite as pristine as previous years - there were some tough 6'-8" stems sticking up out of the ground at each end of this section that weren't awesome to run through

Right turn at the end of this bit of trail, then along beside the big open field - not green this year, but rather full of the stubs of cornstalks - with a new feature for the course.

Just a bit too big for me to feel safe jumping over, and right in the middle of a runnable section - this would definitely slow me down over the several dozen laps I hoped to cover

Up one of the bonus hills into the forest, past the random bench, then down stump alley.

Fortunately, Clay had already been out to paint them hi-viz orange

Left turn at the arrow sign into the Endor Loop - the most beautiful part of the course, winding through pine forest and hardwoods with birdsong emanating from every direction.

It is wonderfully soft underfoot, and mostly flat or gently downhill, making it lovely to run

The course markings are always excellent: pin flags plus directional arrows, including ones bordered in electroluminescent wire that would be lit up after dark.

All of the above are pictured here, at the southernmost turn of the course

The last leg of the Endor Loop is the most technical section of the whole course, really, with roots and stumps and twists and turns of a very narrow trail through the trees.

And - if you're lucky - the most beautiful glints of sunlight

Of course it can't all be rosy - the bonus hill to end the Endor Loop has always been a bit of a tricky one, as it is quite steep and requires a step over of two fallen trees at the top.

At least I'd have a few hours before I'd need to worry about it getting slick in the rain

Back up Stump Alley, because it was so much fun the first time.

I am always amazed when I make it through here without going sprawling - a bit of paint being no match for my natural clumsiness

Out of the woods again, to confront the deadfall again.

Slightly uphill past it in this direction, which makes it harder to get running again after stepping over

Past the big open field - I'm so used to it being verdant, a sea of ultra-green among the autumn colours - glorious nonetheless in the morning sun.

Our local star has so seldom been a feature at this event, that I would take every opportunity to document its appearances

Now, down the steep slope of the first bonus hill, to the foot of the main climb.

The lower portion - first to get slippery when things get wet

It continues very steep for past the pine trees

Flattening out enough to be properly walkable, but still uphill

Where the singletrack meets the doubletrack at the not-exactly-top of the hill, you get a spectacular view west across the field beside the first downhill, and the gorgeous fall foliage in the trees beyond.

Not sure whether the leaves or the hill do more to take your breath away

Continue on the doubletrack north toward base camp

Still - you will note - going uphill

Eventually it will flatten out, then even give you the slightest downhill as you reach the corner to start it all over again.

That's the aid station semi-hidden by a tree, and our car and tent on the right

..with my sweetheart ready to provide support every lap.

I knew going in that a goal of 200km was unrealistic: everything would have to be perfect for me to make that happen, considering I only did 121km in 24hrs in excellent conditions in 2022. The absolute minimum I would accept would be 92 laps, which is just over 100mi: that would mean completing two 100mi+ races in 10 weeks, but I was cognizant of the fact it took me 48.5hrs to make 100mi at 3DIP in 2021. I wondered, though, if I kept the naps to a minimum and just kept running as long as I could...was 100 laps possible? 

Only one way to find out

I did the first few loops with my heavy wind vest under my storm trooper dress, and got quite sweaty very quickly even with zipping it down. 

Though the sun took quite awhile to reach down below the plateau of the field

I was able to extricate it from under the dress and ditch it with Tank as I switched up bottles, alternating between one of water and one of Skratch electrolyte drink, and finishing a bottle about every 4 laps (call it approximately 500ml of fluid per hour). 

There were still a few flowers lingering in the sunny spots

Ron did a handful of laps but made plans to head out - he just wasn't feeling well after his cold night. He disappeared from the course within the first 90mins to nap in his tent while Barb - who had been out walking some laps with him as I started - pulled up a chair near the course, and proceeded to nap herself.

An early Friday lap by the Gehls

I expected I'd now have the course to myself, but though I didn't see anyone else running I certainly wasn't alone out there. Twice in the first couple of hours I encountered people with off-leash dogs, both of whom jumped up on me and left muddy paw prints.

I suppose this is what I get for wearing white after Labour Day - how gauche of me

The other creatures that abounded on the course? Caterpillars. Dozens upon dozens of fuzzy caterpillars, wandering all over the trail. Both wooly bears (the ones that are usually brown at both ends with a black band in the middle; some people claim you can tell how long winter will be by the width of that black band), and other, less colourful but equally hairy critters.

I really had to watch my step, or risk a fuzzy squelch

I had a bit of a conundrum: in order to tell Tank (who is the real MVP of these things) what I wanted him to have ready for me for the next lap when I'd finish a loop, I'd end up waking up Barb from her nap, about which I felt awful - she's an amazing lady, who supports Ron in races the same way Tank does for me. At the same time, I couldn't very well just forego talking to Tanker: he needed to know whether the next bottle should be filled with water or Skratch, or if I needed salt tabs, a refill of one of my little pouches of candy, or additional clothing. I'd basically have something to tell him about every lap as I ran past or paused briefly to swap bottles, and I'm not particularly good at being quiet when I'm running.

..as anyone who's ever been to the same race as me can attest.
Even my signs are loud!

Around the 3-hour mark I completed my 12th lap (close to a half-marathon at just over 21km), and I was already starting to hurt: my back was holding up ok so far, but my hips and the little muscles around my pelvis that keep it stable were feeling a bit worked, and my legs were beginning to complain of ill usage. Worse still, the inside of my left knee - above the kneecap - would twinge painfully if I wasn't careful to keep my knee from moving inward as I climbed the big hill. It was fine if I focused on pushing it outward, but as I got more tired it became more difficult to do consistently. I invited Tank to come walk a lap with me, throwing my wind vest back on to do so in order to keep warm.

The sun had mostly disappeared behind high cloud, with lower-lying puffs blowing through

This also gave me the opportunity - now that I wasn't pressing myself to run - to closer examine some things on the trail.

Like neat fungus on rotting fallen trees

..and this feather - likely from a goldfinch - that had just turned up in the Endor loop on the previous lap

It was nice to share the course with my sweetheart for a bit, though neither of us particularly enjoyed climbing the hill.

I think he'd kind of forgotten what a beast it can be

I dropped Tank back at his chair by the start/finish, and started running again. I won't say that walking a lap helped much: I was able to coax my legs back to some semblance of life, but despite it being very early in the "race", I knew the decline had begun. I kept my vest on despite moving at higher effort, and watched as the light turned strange.

Pockets of blue intermixed with multiple levels of cloud - I'm not sure I've ever seen anything quite like it

By early afternoon some new issues - which were probably preventable, had I been smarter - began to arise. I'd failed to lube some areas before the start, and by 30k I could feel some unwelcome friction between my cheeks, so to speak...and it wasn't chapstick I needed. It's probably a good thing there was no-one else on course, as I was not shy about pulling out my SportShield and ensuring everything was liberally coated, in the wide-open door of my tent.

I'd rather be comfortable than ladylike

Ron and Barb packed up their stuff and left, though I had my suspicions I hadn't seen the last of them. It took me about 6hrs to cover the first 40k, fueled entirely by cookies and candy: sour peach slices, gummy worms, a few Oreos to switch things up, and a bunch of water, Skratch, and a couple of salt tabs. The sun came out again, and Tank got warm enough to be down to just a t-shirt for awhile.

We both take the Stahr Wahrs Ultra thing pretty seriously

I took my phone out with me and filmed the latter two-thirds of the Endor loop, plus the bit of main trail out of the woods (and up Stump Alley) - want to see how beautiful it is?

I'd apologize for all the heavy breathing, but that was hard work!

I also decided to shoot the way up the big stinkin' hill, just for giggles.

You get some weirdly epic-sounding music instead of me breathing on this one

I didn't carry my phone with me the whole time, but I did take it out for a couple of laps here and there. I'd keep finding interesting things that I wanted to photograph, as I ran less and walked more. 

Fern-like moss and teenytiny fungus on a fallen tree

This thing, which I'd seen clinging to some grass near the top of the hill - I wasn't sure what it was, but some searching later told me it's a praying mantis egg case

This bright bit of juniper alongside the trail where the hill flattens out, that reminded me of a flame

Tank came out for another lap with me around 4pm, while I walked an entire lap and ate a blueberry muffin.

It was the first solid thing I'd eaten since oatmeal at 6am

Clay had also been out putting up signs, which are always such a delight on the course. Here's a condensed tour:

The start of the course / The entrance to the Borderlands

In front and inside of the sketchy outhouse - I asked Clay if that was Obidet Wan in there

The irony of the "There are no hills here" just after the Bonus Hill sign

I was ready to kick Clay for putting the idea of zombies in my head when I was out there by myself in the night..

This one felt premature: while it's still the same trail, the stump-riddled portion wasn't for another couple of hundred metres

You and me both, Han - I figured it was only a matter of time before I fell trying to step over the tree

Around the Endor Loop

Irony: once this sign appeared, I walked this section every single time (save once, for reasons that will become clear later)

There was one at the bottom of the big hill as well, but I didn't get a shot of that until much later on

The weather was holding so far - the day had warmed up from just over the freezing mark to quite a pleasant running temperature, and it had stayed dry into late afternoon - but the forecast wasn't looking great.

I didn't anticipate we'd see the eclipse

With very little solar energy filtering through the clouds and my legs protesting more and more, I needed a little extra to keep me warm, and I was happy to have the extra pockets that the Boba Fett jacket I'd made for last year offered. 

The wind vest only has one not-very-useful pocket, and the pockets of the knicks I was wearing under my dress were pretty small

Before I reached the 50k mark - just before 8hrs - the sun faded to just a bright spot in the clouds.

It always seems to go part time when this event rolls around

Speaking of those knicks: I had never actually worn them for more than about 8km at a time before, and as I passed 9 hours a sensation I'd begun to notice became really uncomfortable. Something about the way they moved - possibly as I dried out now that I wasn't sweating much anymore, as running was only happening in a few select spots anymore - was chafing my saddlery regions. Badly.

Maybe it was all the high stepping?

Whatever the cause, my vertical smile was definitely unhappy. I tried some more lubrication, which made things a little more comfortable, but I worried how unpleasant future portajohn stops were going to become.

While a beacon of hope to runners everywhere, they're not exactly known for the softness of their supplied paper

It's not like I could stop eating and drinking, either - the truth about ultras is that they're an eating contest with some light exercise thrown in, and all of it requires a lot of fluids for digestion and general hydration.

Those gummy worms won't wash themselves down

Oh, speaking of the gummy worms: I've done a lot of running with them this year, but most of it had been in warm weather (like Tally and Monster of Mazinaw, plus any number of summer training runs). I absolutely love their flavour - I get the Dare Gummi Worms from Bulk Barn which are a mix of 3 varieties of citrus - and my weird idea is that the gelatin (which is a degraded form of collagen; the most abundant protein in the human body) in them may provide some joint health benefits while the shorter amino acid chain than collagen makes it easier to digest. Even if that's all rubbish, they're yummy, easy to carry (I can fit 16 worms - which is almost 450cal - in a little pocket-size silicone pouch), easy to digest, provide a good hit of calories and carbohydrates, and are way cheaper than any purpose-made running "nutrition" products. However, that gelatin - which is not in my other favourite running candy (fuzzy peaches/sour peach slices) - also apparently makes them a little tough to chew when the weather turns cold. Peach slices are gummy-fied with cornstarch instead, and the difference in squishability became very apparent as the day's meagre warmth began to fade. As a result, I had my last gummy worms around 5:15pm on Friday - that's the photo above - and moved on to easier-to-munch foods for the remainder of the event.

It also took me nearly 8 hours to realize that the tree that had been of great concern last year - due to a giant crack through which you could see daylight - had fallen some time in the past 12 months 

Into the last hour of daylight, I formulated a plan: my friend Rich was coming by to share some laps with me from 7pm to 11pm, and I prefer to be off course during twilight as I find it easier to let my eyes adjust from light to dark conditions all at once. I was also getting hungry: the kind of belly-growling hunger that can't be appeased by candy or cookies. I'd also need to change some clothing up to keep me warm as I headed into the night, as I was running less and less each lap now, and it was supposed to start raining by 6pm.

At a few minutes to six, we got a tiny bit of sunset-like sky with cloud blowing in

I figured I'd do a couple more laps, then come in and sit down for a little bit: I'd made a couple of big, meaty sandwiches the night before that were hanging out in our cooler in the Chowhouse, and I figured that could be dinner to quiet my hungry belly, plus I could sort out my headlamp, waist light, and warmer/weather protective clothing before Rich arrived. Then things got a bit weird. 

I finished a lap, and Clay asked me if I'd seen a couple of motorcycles. I said no, and he said something about "oh, I guess they just kept riding along the field". As I headed back out again, though, I could see dirt bike tracks on the trail, and messaged Tank to tell Clay as much. He responded telling me that I was charged with letting the riders know they were trespassing, so I hustled to try to catch them, seeing their tracks heading into the Endor loop and hearing motors in the distance.

Their knobby tires had torn up the trail horribly

Remember I said I only actually ran the section with the "No Time for Walken" sign once after it went up? This was the loop, after 9 hours on the trail: I thrashed myself to catch up, though it turned out I needn't have rushed.

They'd encountered a spot of bother

As I approached the exit of the Endor loop - where, as you'll recall, you have to step over a pair of logs at the top of a Bonus Hill - I found one of the bikes at the bottom of the hill, and the other stuck at the top, unable to make it over the logs. It was (as anyone would suspect) a pair of young boys, most likely brothers as the bikes looked identical, and as I surmised their situation I opened conversation with "It's almost like this trail wasn't designed for dirt bikes"

I'm not sure my sarcasm was fully appreciated

I went on to tell them "You're trespassing on private property, and the permit holder has called by-law. I'd suggest making your way out of here sooner than later." as I hiked up the hill, stepped over the logs, and then ran up the trail through Stump Alley. If nothing else, it was supposed to start raining any moment, and the sun would be setting at 6:43pm - less than 45mins from when I came across them. On my next lap, I saw more tracks in the soft dirt of the trail: this time exiting the Endor loop from (what I consider) the entrance to it, and heading south on the main trail. I guess the kids must have got the stuck bike turned around, and they both rode the Endor loop in reverse to the main trail, then headed for the trailhead to the south of the tract to avoid any law enforcement that might have arrived at the gate (near the portajohns) by which they'd entered. They don't need to know that by-law was never called!

With the course now clear and without enough time for another lap before the sun dropped below the horizon - my quads were feeling pretty shot after the "extra" running I'd done trying to catch the dirt bikers - I figured 60km (34 laps) in nine and a half hours was enough to earn me a seat, a change of clothes, and a sammich.

In precisely that order - I also wrapped myself up in this plush waterproof blanket to keep me warm and protect my chair from sweaty runner butt

The sandwich was undeniably tasty and more or less filled the gap, but in future I'd try to make sure I had something hot to eat for dinner, as the cold sandwich just left me wanting the comfort of a cooked meal. In retrospect I could have heated up some broth to go with the sandwich, but I wasn't necessarily at my best and brightest then - especially since I was dealing with some nasty cramping in my butt while I sat, as the stabilizer muscles around my pelvis complained of inhumane working conditions. I did, however, come up with what I thought was a relatively ingenious strategy to keep myself warm and dry (enough) in the impending rain: I threw on a longsleeve base layer shirt with a grid fleece interior, and layered on a sweater that also has a grid fleece interior, then tossed on a windproof, water-resistant light jacket over the whole business.

A weather-resistant hat (with foam front for headlamp comfort), a dry tubular gaiter over my ears, headlamp, waist light, and fleece skirt completed my stylish ensemble

My theory was that the two layers of grid fleece would preserve a dry air space next to my skin, even if I started to sweat or the rain penetrated my jacket: both inner layers would be trying to pull moisture away from my body and trapping warm air between the squares of the fleece. Remember, kids: it's not the insulation of a jacket or sweater that keeps you warm, it's the envelope of still air warmed by your body that actually does it - you just need to keep the wind out, and use loft to increase the size of the airspace as needed for colder temperatures.

It's possible I spend a little too much time thinking about this stuff

By the time I was ready to go, about a half hour had elapsed and daylight was gone: I had needed Tank to fire up our propane heater in order to strip down to the skin from the waist up without freezing, as there would be no point in putting on dry clothes if I left the wet sports bra on to pull heat directly out of my chest. I wandered out of the Chowhouse just after 7pm to start a lap, then realized that my friend Rich had arrived with perfect timing!

He had checked in at the aid station tent and was ready to rock, so away we went!

Gary had arrived after finishing work, and gone 'round the course putting out lights as apparently my friend Brad had some issues becoming disoriented in the Endor loop at night (which I can totally see: the first section is pine forest, which makes it difficult to track a trail as there's little ground cover apart from a layer of pine needles with lots of open space between the trees) in 2022 - part of the reason he'd left early. 

So Gary put out puck lights, with the next one always visible as you look up the trail

I wasn't running much now - my left foot had become quite painful, and my quads were utterly destroyed from the downhills - but I'd still manage to run the steep decline from the woods to the foot of the big hill. It actually felt less stressful on my body to run it than to walk it: I suspect due to the steepness of the hill leading to an exaggerated knee bend on my trailing leg as I'd step down while walking, putting a lot of stretch on the anterior chain as my foot traveled behind my body. When I'd run, my back foot would just leave the ground instead, so my knee wouldn't flex as much and my hip flexors and quads wouldn't have to stretch as much.

I'd immediately need them to pull my knees up to climb the big stinkin' hill

I noticed on the first couple of laps with Rich that he dropped behind me a bit in the Endor loop - pausing for maybe 15sec each time. I had no idea what that was about, and he didn't say anything: just caught right back up to me (which was no great feat, as I was only running that one downhill out of the woods). On our third lap as we neared the same spot, I gasped as I looked down at the trail and spotted something:

A original 1977 Kenner stormtrooper action figure!

Rich immediately started to laugh as I picked it up, utterly baffled by its appearance on the trail. He only kept me in suspense for a moment, then said "I thought you'd like that!" Apparently he'd seen my stormtrooper costume in my insta stories earlier that day, and went rummaging in his basement as he knew he had this little guy kicking around down there, and figured it should go to someone who'd appreciate it. The first time he'd dropped behind me on the trail he'd been planting it up against the No Time for Walken sign, but I hadn't spotted the white stormtrooper against the white sign, so on the second lap he moved it to the middle of the trail! I was gobsmacked by his generosity, and promised to give him a good home - he now sits on the shelf beside my desk, with some Star Wars Universe friends to keep him company.

Partly as a reminder to be grateful for the wonderful people I have in my life

I dropped lil'Stormy off at the Chowhouse with Tank, and then we proceeded on with a few more laps. I was still feeling pretty good and the rain held off, and I find Rich so easy to chat with that the hours really flew! Around 10:30pm Tank let me know he was going to head to our vehicle for a 30min nap, which would mean him getting up around the time Rich planned to head out - I wished him a good snooze, having just passed 75km. I was still eating and drinking plenty, sharing some of my homemade sea salt maple crisp rice squares with Rich as we walked along.

Stepping over the deadfall twice each lap

I finished my 45th lap - as close as makes no odds to 79km - around 11:10pm, and bade Rich farewell. I'd see him again the following weekend at the new race he had started on the old Horror Hill course, and I'll tell you all about how that went in a future post! Tank wasn't up yet, so I made sure my lap was marked at the aid station tent, then just kept on moving. I was still running the downhill out of the woods to the foot of the main hill, but nothing else at this point.

Partly for my own safety: I was getting more tired and clumsy, and it would have been easy to trip and hurt myself, with no-one else on course to find me or help me, and I had left my phone with Tank

I came in from a lap around 1am, thinking of grabbing my earbuds and throwing on some music - it's not like I'd need to hear anyone trying to pass me - but I suspected that Tank had my phone in his pocket in the car where he was still sleeping. I knocked on the window, startling him awake, then opened the door and requested my phone: he obliged, asking the time (which I told him), and I closed the door again, wondering whether or not he'd actually get up. I headed over to the aid station to grab a bottle of water and as I was marking my lap and the water pickup in my notebook, Gary (the only other person awake, as far as I could tell) mentioned that it was nice the forecast hadn't come true. Having seen no sign of stars, I knew there was fairly solid cloud cover, and remarked that we weren't in the clear yet. Wouldn't you know it: a mere one minute after stepping out of the aid station to start another lap, the first of the rain began to fall. I honestly could have fought Gary right then.

..and it would just keep coming.

Side note: this is the notebook to which I refer; I've used the same one for all 3 years at 3DIP - Tank helps me record what I eat and drink, and also when I pee, so if I'm not feeling right we may be able to figure out the cause. That might be that I'm retaining a ton of fluid (drinking but not peeing), or haven't eaten enough, or have stopped drinking enough, based on the time my last food/drink/portajohn stop was recorded. We record my laps as well, making sure it agrees with the scoreboard in the aid station, and any other relevant details like salt tab intake, nap times/durations, milestone lap times, or anything else I think should be remembered.

Including a bunch of notes about random things to include when I write these reports!

The rain wasn't terribly heavy, but it soaked everything, weighing down shoots and branches that had previously been well off the trail - thin strands of raspberry creeper now whipped at my legs, and a sodden branch on the Endor loop managed to neatly bypass the brim of my hat and deposit its load of rainwater in my right eye, the edge of the leaf gently scraping my eyeball as it did so. While I was carrying my phone now, I never did actually hook up my earbuds or play any music; I'm just so in the habit of spending time in my own head that I rather forgot about it. I had also stopped running entirely: my knees had begun to build a painful pressure as I'd run down the hill out of the woods, and it had become unbearable by the time the rain started, more than 16hrs into the race. 

Still moving, though

By 2am, Tank finally appeared outside our vehicle, and I asked him to get a pot of coffee on - I was getting weary, and after my 53rd soggy lap (93km), I came into the Chowhouse to sit for a few minutes and drink a hot mug of Tank's delicious brew.

You can see the notebook open behind me, ready to record my cup of coffee

This put me in dangerous proximity to an object whose allure had grown greatly in the past few hours:

The cot, with its stack of pillows to put my feet up, and cozy blankets ready to snuggle

I wasn't quite willing to give in yet, though: one of the things I rued about the 72hr I'd done here in 2021 was that I went for a nap very early (around 10pm the first night), and I wanted to try to make it at least 20hrs before I laid down this time - see if I could push through enough so that my first nap would take me through to daylight. I drank my coffee, ate a muffin, and had a couple of squirts of vitamin B12 spray, then freshened up by brushing my teeth.

There's nothing better than getting that coating of fuzz out of your mouth to help you push on!

Time definitely slipped away on me while I was in the tent, though: it was just after 3am - 40mins! - before I stepped back outside, the rain still pattering on the tent roof as I headed off to start another lap. I made 100km - 57 laps - before 4:30am, startling a poor, bedraggled little skunk on the Borderlands on that lap. I felt awful for the wee thing - it couldn't have been more than a few months old, by the size of it - as it seemed very confused by all this wet, and reluctantly scuttled off from the dry-ish spot it had found below a giant pine tree beside the trail as I passed. 

I was grateful to have heated tents to which to retreat when I needed - the poor little critter had no such luxury

I put in another 3 laps without seeing any further wildlife (I did hear some coyotes yipping off in the distance), but I was getting drowsy; the coffee's effects had dissipated, and I was concerned that I might stumble and do myself harm, if not just lay down on the trail and snooze. The rain had made the bottom of the big hill slick, and my feet slipped as I tried to climb it on each of my last 3 laps. It was time to eat, sleep, and regroup: I'd asked Tank to put the kettle on when I'd finished my 59th loop, and when I came in from my 60th (105km) at 5:35am I used the boiling water to make a bowl of instant noodle soup, to which I added some chunks of precooked chicken from the cooler.

You can see some of the irritation in my right eye from the hanging branch earlier, and the fatigue all over my face

Tank got the propane heater running to keep me warm, but my layering strategy had worked to perfection as the rain hadn't been very heavy: I also hadn't been running, so sweat hadn't been much of a factor, but the knicks were a bit damp (and still rubbing a bit unpleasantly) so I changed them out for a pair of tights before settling myself on the cot at 6:30am - it had taken me just shy of an hour to eat the soup and change, partly due to further butt and hamstring cramps - for a nap, with Tank shutting off the propane tank before he headed off to the car for a nap of his own, killing and Coleman lantern so they wouldn't run unattended. I awoke to daylight and the sound of rain continuing to fall at 8am, after 90mins of not-really-sleep, but at least some rest.

Could be better, but could be a lot worse

It took me 20mins to get my now-muddied shoes on and have a peek at the weather, while shoving another muffin in my face.

It didn't look very promising

I donned my fleece skirt and weather-resistant jacket again, then grabbed a pole to help me up the slippery hill and headed out to see what the morning would bring. 

The colour of the day was "grey" so far

Fortunately, the forecast proved wrong, at least for my little slice of the earth to the north of the town: the rain only lasted about 10mins into my first lap before blowing away on a freshening breeze. I did, however, encounter something a bit disturbing at the entrance to the Borderlands trail. Remember how I'd said I'd heard coyotes in the night? Well, they're a frequent feature of this particular tract, and it seems they may have found their way into a nearby chicken coop - the evidence of which they'd left just beside the trail.

If you find this pic disturbing, imagine how I felt seeing it live, straight out of bed and 23hrs deep into a 48hr race!
I was quite happy I was off course when it was deposited there, and that I encountered it in daylight

I never actually thought I'd have to tell a race director "there's a gnawed-off chicken arse on the trail" -and that, my friends, is a direct quote - but there I was, and had to repeat myself because Clay understandably had not comprehended what I was talking about the first time. I grabbed my phone from the Chowhouse after that lap (I'd left it behind when I got up) and took the above photo, messaging it to him to show him exactly what I meant. I also sent it to Tank, poor lad: he was awoken by his phone going off and that pic with the words GUESS WHAT? in his face. In my defense, I fully expected him to answer with CHICKEN BUTT, because that's just the kind of marriage we have. 

I have no idea how he puts up with me, either.

While I was out there engaging in some grim photography and turning off all the puck lights (as Gary was napping since before sunrise), a familiar face turned up again: Ron was now back, intending to see how far he could get in the remaining 24hrs. I had done 62 laps (just under 109km) and was partway through my 63rd as day 1 ended and day 2 began...and the rest will have to wait for another week!

Ain't I a stinker?

The conclusion is (finally) here!