We can probably call this "how not to run an ultra"
Or at least how to ill-advisedly do so
I was not in shape for a 50k. Heck, I'm not sure I was in shape for a 5k. But, I am not one to let foolish things like "lack of preparation" or "horrible wind and predicted rain" stand in the way of having a really miserable day on my feet, so off to Dundas Valley Conservation Area we drove, arriving in sunshine about quarter to eight (after the obligatory early morning oatmeal and T.Ho's stop to get Tank some breakfast).
Start/finish area long before the 9am gun time (for 25k & 50k - the 10k started at 10am, and there are no other distances anymore)
The morning air was decidedly crisp - the antithesis of the usual Foxtail weather, back when this race used to be at the end of August. My clothing choices were beginning to feel optimistic; bold, even.
If not downright foolish
If the weather was a tad frosty (5c with a windchill that had to be near the freezing mark), the camaraderie was delightfully warm - friends from all stripes of trail and ultra were out, and many lovely hugs were had.
Apologies for beheading Robin and Will behind Dree, Rich, and myself!
I got my chair set up beside the course - not that I planned to sit down during this madness, but it kept the UltraCooler™ off the ground so I wouldn't have to bend so much - in the least-muddy spot I could find, which was still rather squelchy. The rail trail was immaculate, but the grass beside it was boggy with the spring thaw.
I wouldn't need my vest bottle right away, but it was filled & ready to go
I stuffed some snacks in my pockets - salted maple crisp rice squares, some gummy candy, and a couple of stroopwafels - then got my hand bottle filled with Skratch, and lined up toward the back.
Except then a bunch of people lined up behind me, so I was more like in the middle
They'd figure out soon enough that they'd need to pass me, as I was in no hurry: Dree and I were just going for some time on feet, and once the horn sounded to send us all on our way, we trotted off together (me with my skirt trying to fall off me - I had to keep hiking it up every minute or two until I started to sweat enough to keep in place, which took a heckin' while in the chilly morning) as the clouds closed above us.
We'd just have to make our own sunshine
Now here's where I got stupid (well, moreso than usual): for the past couple of years, about 99% of my training has been a run-walk, not a straight-through run. Not any kind of structured 10:1, just run for a bit and then walk a little. I'm going to say my most common "intervals" are a little more than 2mins of running with 30-40sec of walking, because I am a lazy, broken POS. However, I also knew that the turn around at the Hammerview aid station was almost exactly 5km of (almost) all downhill. I wasn't sure what the race cutoff was, but I knew I'd casually walked most of it with Dree and Andrew H. on a hot AF day in 2022 in just under 8h20m. I'd heard the cutoff for this year might be 8 hours, so I'd have to run a little more...so why not run all the way to Hammerview?
'Cause trying to bank time at the start of an ultra never goes poorly, right?
We reached Powers Crossing and - looking at the stupid little uphill on the other side - I said to Dree that "this might change my calculus". She agreed that she'd be walking it, too, but once I actually reached it, well...I mean it's just a little rise, so I powered up and over it, with Dree matching me step for step.
Then across the bridge over Main St W, and the aid station was right there - with the turn-around mere steps beyond
We stopped for a moment so I could note that I'd just run a 31min 5k (which is something I have not done in several years), and Dree could grab some chips.
After double-checking they weren't dill pickle
..then we started the uphill that (apart from going back down that silly little rise) would last the next 11.5km. You think I'm kidding?
All was not well, though. I had tweaked something in my groin playing hockey on Wednesday night of race week (which I was pretty sure was a bad idea at the time, but continued unabated) - it was starting to make some disgruntled noise with the uphill running. After a bit, I needed to walk, so Dree ran on ahead without me and I continued along at my own lazy pace.
I didn't want to hold anyone back
My right ankle was being weird, too: it was hurting intermittently, but seemed to stop when I'd run instead of walk. I ate some gummy candy and a stroopwafel, and meandered along - still pushing a bit, for...reasons? Mostly just to get the first out-and-back done, and rationalizing it by telling myself that if I'd run down to the market that morning, I'd have pushed hard for 10-13km to make it before they sold out of stuff. Of course, I probably wouldn't have gone and run another 37-40k after that, but why let logic ruin things? It's not like I was moving very fast anyway..
I spent a lot of time watching people run away from me, which is a completely appropriate response to my presence
The 10k started when I was still a mile-ish away from the start/finish, so there was suddenly an influx of runners coming in the other direction.
Some of whom were absolutely flying, and one of whom was wearing a fox onesie!
I made it back to the start/finish in about 1h10m (ok 1:11:03 according to the results), and again that is a time for ~10.3km that has not been on my bingo card for some while.
Tank, Dion, and Heather (who had been surprised by Jeff telling her she was running the 25k that day!) at the race HQ aid station
I refilled my hand bottle with Skratch, but it was cold enough I didn't think I'd need my vest bottle (yet), so I left it...and everything else.
NO REGERTS
I set off for the 15k out-and-back to the Opossum's Landing aid station with one stroopwafel, some remaining gummy candy, and a couple of crisp rice squares in my pockets.
I thought I'd already grabbed my little bag of Oreos. I had not.
Rambling along by myself, I had plenty of time to look around, and noticed some things I didn't recall having seen before.
..and these pretty purple flowers (that would have been out of season in August)
Unfortunately, I also began to notice a certain...urge. I had read in the pre-race email that Opossum's Landing would have a portajohn, though, so I didn't stress too much. Around 2.5k out, the pop-up aid station offered by Paul Turkstra's family was being set up.
The race is dedicated to Paul, who passed away from skin cancer. Get your moles checked, folks!
They had a table set up with fresh fruit, which was more appealing in the cool morning than the freezies they'd had in 2022, but I was still actually moving decently at this point so declined any strawberries or watermelon for now.
I could not, however, decline the multiple road crossings
The wind was a physical force, chilling my bare legs and shoving me around as I tried to bull my way up the trail. I was overjoyed when Heather - who must have stopped for a bit at the start/finish - came up behind me, and hung with me for a bit.
Heather is the sweetest, and it's the first time we really had a chance to chat since Tally in the Valley, when I was...umm...not at my best
Nothing good lasts forever, though, and soon I needed to walk again while Heather had a prescribed pace to stick to, so I wished her well and watched as she gracefully strode out of sight.
Got the whole place to myself again
I was still running a fair bit, and it wasn't too much longer before I started to see familiar faces coming back from the turn-around. Ron G passed me and said "You'll be going downhill soon" - I kind of laughed, because I've been going downhill for years; much further and I'll be subterranean! But I did make it to the Opossum's Landing aid station.
Where some friendly penguins awaited with a refill of Skratch
What they did NOT have - and I did ask - was the promised portajohn. That was...not bueno. I guess I'd have to make it back to the start/finish, because though they'd offered that "no-one goes behind that rock" as an option, I was not unleashing whatever hell wanted to burst forth from my digestive tract on any of those poor volunteers, nor any other trail users. This required facilities.
I might be stupid, but at least I'm somewhat considerate
Heading the other way with the wind at my back felt like luxury, but I realized I'd sort of forgotten to eat anything for almost an hour, and figured I'd best remedy that by cranking a bunch of gummy candy into my face.
I'd say I was distracted by the sunshine, but it only lasted for a couple of minutes
I knew 5 fuzzy peaches equaled about 100cal, so I ate 8 of them, and followed that up with a few watermelon chunks from the pop-up aid station.
And smiled at some early forget-me-nots along the side of the trail
The rest of the way back was fairly unremarkable - which is not to say I felt at all good, as hadn't run more than 21k at a stretch since January - but I had warmed up enough to ditch my gloves.
Just into a pocket, though - I wasn't sure if I'd need them again.
I came through the 25k mark in around 3h5m with a bunch of stuff to take care of before I continued.
I crossed the line first, though
First order of business was to drop my near-empty hand bottle with Tank for him to fill, then I strode off toward the trail centre to see about a washroom. I knew there was a bank of portajohns on the far side, but they were down an inconvenient hill, and I was already stiff from shuffling along on the "flat" rail trail. I had actually strongly considered bagging it at 25k, but what kind of long day on feet ends after 3 hours? Inside the trail centre I found a lot of 10k and 25k finishers milling around, and both of the upstairs washrooms occupied. Imagine my joy when I realized I'd have to go downstairs to the main washroom, then climb back up again.
Actually, you needn't imagine - I believe this sums it up nicely
Back out in the howling wind after relieving myself, I grabbed the heckin' Oreos out of the UltraCooler™ (plus a couple of big oatmeal raisin cookies), got my bottle from Tank, and buggered off downhill again. Eating a cookie was pleasant - the turn in the weather was decidedly not.
You know that stuff - it's granular, but it's not hail, and kind of feels like an army of invisible smurfs are having the world's biggest snowball fight? Yeah, it's called graupel. It's awful.
..and that's quite a bit of it accumulating on my hat.
It definitely didn't seem like it had warmed up, either - I was not looking forward to turning around and going 12.5km into the wind. My lower back was getting grouchy, and my right ankle (traditionally quite cranky) was hurting more and more. I was definitely significantly slower than 31mins down to Hammerview this time!
This did include my trail centre side quest, though
Yea, I remember being able to run 30k in under 3 hours. Never gonna happen again. Who cares? Onward.
The lovely volunteers were very antsy about me leaving without snacks until I explained my pockets were brimming with them - all I needed was a refill of Skratch.
Oh, and to putter my way 'round this
I had still moving ok on the downhill, but once it came time to go uphill again things fell apart rapidly. I walked for awhile and ate one of my big oatmeal cookies, then tried to run. My left calf was not happy about this idea. I tried walking a bit more, then gave running another shot. Calf said nope. I tried a couple more times, but before the 33k mark I'd resigned myself to re-using this image from my 2014 Horror Hill race report.
You never know when old crayon art may come in handy
So, I resigned myself to just walking, putting my gloves back on as I lost body heat from the lower effort level.
All the more time to spot flowers along the trail, though?
At least I didn't cripple myself this time, though that same thing in my hip/groin did start to get a bit grouchy
I was really thinking of just calling it at 35k, because I was staring at 2 hours of walking dead into the cold wind, with possibly more graupel or rain to come, and a strong chance I wouldn't be able to start running again.
And let me tell you that the scenery was not really enough to keep me on course
I decided on two things: I'd see how things went until I got back to the start/finish, and I'd bust out some heckin' tunes. I definitely had time to walk it in before the 8 hour (possible) cut-off, but I wasn't keen on just wandering along by myself in lousy weather. I never do this - I haven't run with music more than 3 or 4 times in the past decade, not even through the long nights of multi-day races - but I pulled out my phone and set my library of tracks on random, with it just loud enough that I could hear it without blaring it all over the trail.
I started with Motorhead and let fate decide from there
It was less than an hour from Hammerview to the start/finish, which I reached at 4h45m (for 35-ish kilometers).
And the weather did not look to be improving
I finally ditched my salt tabs with Tank, as I hadn't taken one all day - the cold temperatures meant the electrolytes in the Skratch were plenty, especially since I wasn't sweating at all now. I'd actually dried out on the way up as I walked! I was still considering quitting rather than risking going hypothermic on the long out-and-back, as I didn't have any additional clothing to put on, but as I took a photo with Tank (who had no idea I was thinking of dropping; I hadn't mentioned it), I made some terrible pun and he told me to "get out of here" as he kissed me.
So I did, after grabbing my vest bottle. I mean, he'd be staying until the finish - why shouldn't I?
It was only a handful of minutes before the graupel began again.
Joy
I had wondered if wearing the heavy wool shirt I selected would lead to me overheating, and if the hood would just be a pain in the arse. Instead, I was incredibly grateful for my choice (of garment, anyway) as the hood with tall zip neck helped keep me warm as I strolled along.
I still had the windproof hood of my jacket, too, if I needed more
I had been looking forward to grabbing some strawberries from the pop-up aid station now that I was just walking, but by the time I reached it there was no-one around and all the fruit was gone.
Pretty disappointing, but at least the sun put in an appearance
No use whining about it - on I walked, through the myriad road crossings.
At least the tunes were keeping me entertained - there was a non-zero amount of air drumming
The slower pace meant I was less dumb about eating: instead of strawberries, I munched on a stroopwafel.
Wandering in the woods eating cookies: this is my precise MO
The weather continued its variability, while the trail continued to lack it.
Still better than road running
Speaking of awful things: I happened to notice I was getting close to marathon distance, so decided for a laugh to record my split.
For perspective, the top three 50k runners had been finished for 2.5hrs+
I got out to Opossum's Landing again, still with half of my vest bottle but needing a fill of Skratch.
Bless these folks for staying out in the cold wind all day just so we could have drinks and snacks!
I also had a mini dill pickle, more for the novelty than anything; they had some out, and I enjoy about 3 pickles a year, so I munched one and set off to finish this business. I sent Tank a message telling him I'd likely be about an hour and a half, arriving somewhere around 7h30-7h40m
I had only been wandering along for a few minutes (while eating another oatmeal cookie) when it became apparent that I was walking a bit faster than another competitor was moving, but that it would take me awhile to pass them. I wasn't actually keen to spend any length of time in conversation with this person (though I bear them no ill will, and wish them all the best!), so I decided to see if I could run to put a bit of distance in on them.
Y'all, IT WORKED
I mean it wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't impossible
My calf had quieted down - possibly due to the downhill, or maybe just having had a couple of hours' rest.
Yeah, I'm recycling crayon art again
So here's where I got stupid again. It had taken me 6h4m to make it to Opossum's Landing for the second time, so I'd been on course for maybe 6h10m by the time I tried running again. Despite the runner whom I'd wished to pass being out of view behind me, I decided to try again. I rambled on for a bit, then walked a little more, then ran again, and again...and caught a glimpse of a runner up ahead who'd passed me while I was taking my long stroll up from Hammerview.
Hmm..
They were maybe a half-kilometer ahead of me. I had about 3.5km to go at that point. Could I...re-pass them? Only an idiot would try to put in a push that far into a run that was just supposed to be a time-on-feet day.
Of course you know where this is going.
I ran, and recovered, and ran again. My body started pumping out heat again, so I ditched my gloves, then zipped down my jacket, then my shirt to expose my chest. My left knee got very grouchy, but I ignored it - didn't it know what was at stake here? Ok, absolutely nothing...BUT STILL.
I passed the other runner with less than 2km remaining, using my phone as a rearview mirror to make sure I was well ahead before dropping to a walk again.
I can't believe how warm I got while running!
There was still one reason to push, though: I'd realized while hustling to pass my rabbit that - if I applied myself and didn't weenie out - I could probably bring this thing in under 7 hours. I will re-iterate that the podium had all finished by 3h21m so sub-7 was nothing to crow about, but I hadn't actually completed a 50k in under 7 hours since 2018.
I had just a few precious minutes left by the time I caught my first glimpse of the finish area - coincidentally the bright blue and yellow of the bank of portajohns was the first thing you could see from that direction - so I put in one final push with 7h59m?? showing on the clock as I trundled my way across the line, to my sweet husband waiting to put a medal around my neck and my dear friend cheering for me as I ran.
I don't know why such wonderful folks put up with me, but I'm so grateful that they do
I'm also incredibly grateful to all of the volunteers who spent a cold, miserable day working hard to make sure runners had all of the food, drink, and support they could possibly need, and to the always-fabulous Happy Trails crew for another fantastic event. Most of all, though, I'm grateful for this guy:
He's the absolute best, and I'd never get anything done without him
So yeah, that's how not to run an ultra. I'm comfortable being a walking (literally) cautionary tale, but 100% do not recommend replicating any part of the above!
