Dion Winter Goose Chase Snowshoe Race - Sunday, February 2nd, 2020

This nearly wasn't a thing.

But I'm so happy it was!

All race-week long, we'd been on tenterhooks waiting to see if enough snow would materialize to make this a snowshoe event rather than just a trail run. I ran twice on Saturday, and couldn't find anything I'd really want to run on in snowshoes.

Lumpy, footprinted ice and a bit of snow on the Walter Bean Trail in the morning

It started to snow late in the day, but there's still no proper coverage down by the Grand River by sunset
(when this photo was taken on run #2)

Just after finishing the second run, I got an email from Race Director Lisa - miraculously enough, they'd been able to find 5km+ of snow-covered trails at Shade's Mills! The snowshoe race was ON!

Then, because Lisa is apparently the Snow Queen or something, finding enough covered trail became a non-issue.

Arriving at Shade's Mills

A blizzard had arrived in the night, blanketing everything with fresh, fluffy flakes. It continued to fall after I awoke at 7:30am, braided my hair, and had my usual pre-race bowl of oatmeal. It furthermore kept up as I took full advantage of this being a local race by going the heck back to bed for a 30min nap.

I probably shouldn't have done that, but it was glorious.

Back out of bed at 8:45am, we were a little later than I'd hoped leaving the house (after slapping some tape on my ankles and cranky glute, and pulling on some clothes), and it rapidly became apparent that it would take us a wee bit longer than usual to get down to the race venue.

Not a day for speeding.

It was nearly 10am by the time we got there, and I was starting to panic about getting in a warm-up run - I don't bother at ultras because they're done at an easy enough pace that you can just warm up as you go, but this was going to be a redline effort and trying to do that cold is not an awesome idea. Fortunately, there was a very welcome sign in the Nature Centre when I wandered in to pick up my race kit.

HALLELUJAH!

I'd thought the start might have been pushed back due to weather - in order to allow everyone extra time to arrive safely - but it turned out it was actually because some people had gone and pulled out course markings the previous evening and some sections needed to be re-marked. People suck, but I was grateful for the extra time.

These fun soup bowls with matching broth spoons were our registration gift!

After my usual pre-run flailing of limbs, I strapped on my snowshoes and headed out of the Nature Centre to thrash my way through a few minutes of running, starting on the downhill to the beach (and the usual start line, though this year's was in a different location per the sign).

Note the huge flakes of snow still pelting down

Three loops of downhill - along the beach - back up to the path - up to the Nature Centre took me 5 minutes, and demonstrated clearly that the easiest way to get through this would be to start near the back of the pack and let all the fast people pack the snow down ahead of me. I wasn't at all sure how much my legs had in them anyway, so wouldn't want to get in the way of legitimate racers.

I downed an Endurance Tap gel and a few last sips of water 15mins before gun time, trying to quiet the voice in my head that was screaming at me to bring my phone along to take photos of the stunning winter wonderland. I didn't want to carry anything with me, or give myself any excuses to stop or walk; just go out and see what I was capable of.

I settled for taking this photo of the path that runs past the Nature Centre, then putting the phone away in my jacket.

With a few minutes to go I commenced meandering across the parking lots to the starting area by the pavilion, adding in a few easy running strides as I went to keep the legs loose. Gawd, a real warm-up and now this - what had I become?

Lisa and her husband Greg hid under the edge of the pavilion to avoid the worst of the snowfall while making the final pre-race announcements.

(Photo by Diane Livingston)

Greg admitted that due to the re-routes and having to re-mark the course that morning, he actually had no idea how long it was - his best guess was "more than 5k, but less than 30k", which got quite a laugh from all of us. Knowing it would be a single loop, that there's only about 11km of trails at Shade's Mills, and that finishing by the Nature Centre meant they were unlikely to use the Beach Trail on the far west side of the park, I estimated the maximum would probably be about 6km or so.

We lined up at the start facing the woods in near-whiteout conditions, and after a very simple "3-2-1-go!" we were off.

I'm somewhere in behind all the go-getters
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

Heading into the start of the trails, I was dazzled by the beauty of the snow-laden forest.

That's me in the mint green shirt & black tights toward the right
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

I had quite a lot of the field ahead of me when my legs suddenly decided to show up a couple of minutes in. I started passing where I could, but that cost me some energy as I'd have to run beside the single, less-than-two-foot-wide packed down track in the loose snow to get around people.

Definitely a no-passing zone
(I cannot guarantee all course photos will be in order)

There was also the minor issue that gusts of wind would create periodic avalanches off the trees overhead

Somewhere around the 1k mark (I think?), managing to look like I know what I'm doing
(Photo by Tony Martin)

I was able to run consistently over the gently undulating trails until about 1.8km, when I finally had to hike up a little steeper grade. I dropped to a walk up another hill around 2k, then managed to push for 500m before another hill threatened to make my heart explode.

Heart rate data from the morning.
I'm really not kidding about "redline effort"

Wide open winter wonderland

From 2.5km to 4.3km we looped around through the forest with constantly varying elevation, driving me repeatedly down to a hike as I began to seriously wonder if I'd gone out too hard and would end up just having to walk it in.

The tight turns also had me wondering if that wasn't my own butt I saw up ahead at one point..

Pine forested hills

Mixed hardwoods and rolling hills

I thought I must be gassing pretty badly, as people started to pass me as I struggled to control my breathing - the Death Whistle™ was in full effect, which I attempted to calm with deep, slow breaths and intentional exhales. 

More conifer-lined climbing

HOORAY FOR DOWNHILL!
Just watch you don't catch a cleat on a root..

I noticed some other people starting to struggle as well, though - while I managed to put in a decent half-kilometer stretch of running from 4.3-4.8k I saw a fellow who'd come trucking past me earlier drop to a walk on a flat stretch. I tried to gasp out an "are you ok?" but I'm not sure he heard me; he seemed to be moving ok, though, so I just kept on running.

It's always easier if you don't let your feet - or snowshoes - touch the ground.

A right turn at 4.8k brought a longer climb that I had to walk, but I was still able to push myself to run the flatter section in the middle. If there's one thing I can say I did fairly well with in this race, it was keeping the hiking breaks to a minimum; I was quite successful at just walking a few steps over the top/steepest part of a hill, then hurling myself back into a run as soon as it flattened out again.

*gasping*

Around the 5k mark we turned left onto the outside loop trail back toward the bridge, with a general downhill trend for the first quarter-kilometer and then a long, flat section. Since it was flat, I forced myself to keep running, though my foot turnover slowed as I still struggled to process enough oxygen to fuel my overtaxed legs. 

Hup! Hup! Hup!

Back through the cedars

Across the bridge once more

Back on the west side of Mill Creek, I expected to turn right and head up the long, gravelly climb known to Conquer the Canuck runners as "Rocky Road", but was instead directed left (south) to go back the way we'd come. This meant running past some of the most stunning views of the creek itself again, so I was ok with that. I managed to put together a full kilometer of running, too!

SO PRETTY

Less ok was having to tackle the hill I'd got to run down earlier, just a couple of hundred metres into the race. People ahead of me were running it, so I tried to silence the screaming of my legs and lungs and just focus on form...but had to walk again as it steepened near the top. For my efforts, though, I was able to inch by one more of the people who'd passed me earlier.

That made 2 down, and 2 probably out of reach.

Coming down the other side with the pavilion in view, we hooked a sharp right to head back uphill. Conquer the Canuck runners may recognize this as the final long, grassy downhill to the finish - it takes on a rather different character when doing it the other way 'round under a blanket of snow.

It looks fairly innocuous, but it's the longest climb on the course, and takes you to its highest point.

I managed to run the flatter sections at the bottom, drawing alongside another fellow who'd passed me earlier. We both had to hike a bit as it turned upward, then he began to pull away again as I stirred myself back into a run. He got away entirely as I had to hike the final 20m to the apex, then hit the left-hand turn to the downhill to the road crossing where Tanker was acting as marshal.

The road crossing is just visible at the wooden posts dead centre of this shot.

Tank snapped a photo as I gasped out "I LOVE YOU. DYING."

I knew from last year that I was very close to the finish now, so kept my foot on the gas as best I could. After crossing the road, you make a quick left turn and dive back into thick pine forest.

Much narrower than most of the trails in the park.

A little chicane, then a straightaway for maybe 100 metres, and then an oblique right straight into the finish area where the warmth of a roaring campfire is rivaled by the welcome of the amazing volunteers. We were given our finisher prize, and asked what distance our GPS watches recorded - I had 6.81km, which I guess must have been close to the average as the course was officially reckoned to be 6.8k.

Looking back up the finish chute

Official time: 50:47 for 6.8km @ 7:28/km

23/65 O/A - 8/35 Women - 4/17 W40-49

(Full official results here)

(Garmin workout data here)

This year featured awesome handmade wooden medallions for finishers!

I grabbed my jacket (with my phone in it to take these pics) and hung out around the fire for a bit to chat with volunteers and cheer other runners in, but as the snow had turned to rain it wasn't terribly pleasant being outside. So, I wandered back into the Nature Centre to indulge in one of the absolute best parts of this race - the incredible pancake brunch put on by the Cambridge Harriers! 

With gluten free/vegan available, loads of fresh fruit, stewed blueberries and maple syrup.
Oh, and a cup of life-giving coffee with dairy-free creamer.

I had no idea how I'd finished in relation to anyone except the few people I'd seen ahead and behind me, and figured I was in no danger of a podium with as slow as I felt I'd been on course. While sitting and chatting with people after the race, the awards ceremony began and I was gobsmacked to discover I'd been given 3rd place in my age group! 

Getting my awesome plaque from Race Director Lisa
Couple behind me: "Can you believe someone with an arse that big made the podium?"
"Heck, I can't believe she finished!"
(Photo by Diane Livingston)

The awards are so adorable - the logo is by Holly from Carrier Budge Card Company, who both sponsors and runs in the race!

Of course, it was only because the top woman overall - the ever-speedy Vicki Z. - is in my age group, and there was no duplication of awards. So, I don't really deserve it, but I'm still very grateful! Vicki had also won last year, which made her the Goose for this year's race; the top man is the Gander, and both Goose and Gander are given a free entry into the following year's race.

New for 2020 were capes to identify the Gander, Goose, Gosling (youngest competitor) and "Mother Goose" (the competitor with the most life experience, who in this case was a 68 year old fellow who beat me by more than 5mins!)

The Winter Goose Chase is always a wonderful experience - from the welcome of the volunteers at race pickup through venue, course marking, and post-race food & festivities, I can't think of a single thing upon which they could improve. The Cambridge Harriers do a really excellent job, and the beauty and variety of terrain at Shade's Mills offers something for everyone from folks who just want to come out for a lovely walk in their snowshoes to competitive racers who want to push their limits. Registration opens in August of each year, and there are 30 pairs of Dion snowshoes on offer for $10 on top of your entry fee if you'd like to try snowshoe racing without a big investment. Be aware though - the event sells out quickly (before the end of September this past year), and the snowshoes are snapped up even faster!

You should definitely come give it a try!

By the time the awards wrapped up, I'd caught a bit of a chill - I'd neglected to change out of the wet clothes I'd worn for the race, and all of the heat I'd generated by running had long dissipated. Everyone else packed up and headed home, but I'd hatched a plan; I wanted to get a second run in that afternoon anyway, and with the thick layer of snow it probably wasn't going to be any easier running the un-shoveled sidewalks around my neighbourhood than to go out and run the packed-down course, sans snowshoes. I threw on my spikes for traction, which I'd brought as the pre-race email recommended them for walking down to the start line before the snow fell and covered most of the ice, and brought my phone along for the ride.

Which also meant I could photos of the spectacular snow!

Like running in Narnia

While the course marking flags and arrows had all been picked up by the time I headed out, I was able to make my way 'round pretty well from the still-visible spray paint at the turns. I did cut a section off as I didn't really want to run the whole 6.8km again, but since I'd started right from the parking lots (running from there down to and past the pavilion), it came out pretty close in distance anyway. 

I was able to pick up a few marker flags that had been missed, and get them back to the race staff before they left.

Such a stunning day to be out in the woods!

So, that's #1 of 3 snowshoe races for this year (and month) in the bag. Just over 1 week now until the brand-new-for-2020 Flurry event put on by the wonderful folks at Happy Trails Racing - they opened up some additional slots after selling out very quickly, so why not snag one and give it a try? Hope to see you there!

We'll be there with bells on...or at least snowshoes!

Snowshoe Canada 2019 Canadian Championships 10k Snowshoe Race - Sunday, February 17th, 2019

You know how I did ok at a little snowshoe race a couple of weeks ago? Yeah, the high-intensity effort must have deprived my brain of oxygen, so I went and did something dumb.

Pfft - as if that required oxygen deprivation.

With my own personal pair of Dion racing snowshoes having arrived - in spectacular Canada Post fashion - the day AFTER the race, I was eager to have an opportunity to actually run in them. While there was another race in the Eastern Ontario Snowshoe Series (of which the Winter Goose Chase is a part), it was 180km from home and up until a few days beforehand looked like it might just turn into a trail run instead due to lack of snow.

Which would rather defeat the point.

I had, however, found another race on the same weekend that had better odds of having snow: it was being held at Craigleith Ski Club in the Blue Mountains, it was slightly closer to home (~150km), and it didn't start until 1pm. It also had a 10km option (as well as a 5k), so would make the trip more "worth it" than the 8km at Ganaraska.

One small snag: it was also the Snowshoe Canada 2019 Canadian Championships.

Hm. Did I really want to go embarrass myself way at the back of a field of elites?

I think we both know the answer to that.

Might as well own it, right?

Still, I hemmed and hawed a bit, only signing up on Thursday the 14th (happy Valentine's Day to me?) for the race on Sunday the 17th. I took Friday completely off - not even a lunch walk - because my right foot has been a bit sore since I tweaked it while running the Royal Rec trail on Sunday the 10th, but then ran twice on Saturday the 16th because 100 in 100 is still a thing. At least I talked myself down from trying to get a quick run in before we left for the race, and my shoulders - which has both given me grief Tuesday through Thursday due to pushing a neighbour's stuck vehicle up our street and spending 90mins shoveling ice-crusted snow out of my mum's driveway - had eased off.

Roadtrip!

On the less-bright side, I got almost no sleep the night before the race due to being woken up several times (cats are jerks), and my foot didn't exactly feel amazing when I rolled out of bed. We were a little late getting on the road, after taping up my foot/ankle and fussing over last-minute odds and ends, and then the trip took longer than we'd been given to believe.

Though it was quite pretty, driving through the Grey Highlands

Passing an outcrop of the Niagara Escarpment in Beaver Valley
I totally failed to get any shots of the beautiful Beaver River sparkling in the sun!

Driving along the south shore of Georgian Bay

We arrived at Craigleith - with me a full-on bag of nerves - a little bit after 11am, at which time kit pickup was scheduled to begin.

Um, starting to get a wee bit nervous now..

Problem was, we couldn't find the North Lodge which was to act as race headquarters. Parked in the additional parking area beyond the South Lodge, I finally ended up having to call the resort to find out we needed to go back out to the road and drive past the main ski resort in order to get there. I feel like that's something that could have been included in the directions on the website, but what do I know?

Oh, those stairs are gonna be AWESOME after the race..

We quickly found the registration room - with a sign stating kit pickup didn't start until 11:30am, so we were actually among the first despite the full parking lot - and I got my swag bag and map. I noticed that since there were 2 separate maps for 5k and 10k that it wouldn't simply be a 2-loop race.

RACE SWAG

Our kits included a small bag of chips, a packet of hot chocolate for later, a voucher for a free hot chocolate at the lodge's cafeteria, a granola bar, a single-serving pouch of Stoked Oats (the exact same flavour I'd had for my pre-race breakfast in the car on the way up!), a certificate good for a month's membership at a Collingwood fitness club, and this awesome Snowshoe Canada / Craigleith etched glass mug.

The awards were awesome, too - miniature traditional snowshoes.
This is literally the closest I would get to them, though.

So, I figured I'd have a look at the map and see what might be in store for me.

Hmm..

Um, what? "Follow Bruce Trail to big rock" - this will be on the BRUCE FREAKIN' TRAIL? 

I have "run" on the Bruce before. It's technical, often very narrow, and quite often skirts around the sides of near-vertical faces where one false step will have you tumbling and plummeting - if not to your death, at least to your extreme pain and injury. 

So this would be my fifth snowshoe run ever - my second in my own Dions, and only my 3rd in that model of snowshoe - and my second race. 

I wondered if I'd actually make it to the finish..

I'd also learned that this was actually the 13th year this race had been held at Craigleith - while the Canadian Championship moves around each year, the Craigleith Switchback Challenge was an annual tradition. This was the second time in 3 years they were hosting the Championship race, but I figured that with the long history there would likely be some families and non-racers on course. Which was true, but they all seemed to be doing the 5k option like sensible human beings. You know, the one that doesn't involve the Bruce Trail.

There was one other minor detail: while the name "Switchback Challenge" should have been a clue, noone had warned me before race day that the "significant climb up the Niagara Escarpment" at the start of the 5k and 10k routes translated into a 500ft elevation gain in the first kilometer.

Y...y...yiiiiiiikes.

With the temperature hovering around -8c but the sun making it feel much warmer, I finished my flaily dynamic warmup and figured I'd better get out for a bit of a trot to see how everything felt...what with it being my second time in my snowshoes and all (the first having been ~5k during the winter storm on Tuesday the 12th; 5 days prior), and having needed to make an adjustment to the hook-and-loop arch straps to shorten them up so they would have enough contact to stay done up.

So far so good..

Ok, snowshoes - I know we hardly know one another, but we're going to have to work together today.
I sure hope I can rely on you, as it's not going to be easy out there.

With 15mins to go before race time, I had one last wee and downed an Endurance Tap, because what could possibly be more Canadian than snowshoe racing fueled by maple syrup?

I had another in my pocket, along with a small soft-sided water bottle, the map, and my phone.

We were called to the start line for pre-race announcements, while I vibrated with nerves...and a little with the cold, too, as it was much windier by the start line than over by the lodge!

Pre-race announcements by the race director

My sweetheart stayed with me almost right up until the horn sounded

We were told that the 5k - which would follow the yellow flags - would start a few minutes behind the 10k, which followed the orange flags. All turns would be signed, and many places would be marshaled to ensure fair play and noone would get lost. Just after 1pm, the signal was given and we were off.

Well, I haven't fallen yet, so we'll call that a win.

Did I say off? I meant UP.

See that forest? That's where we're going.

I think I actually ran about 30 seconds out of the first kilometer

Around the corner past some friendly spectators and volunteers

After hiking directly up a ski hill, you finally reach the Switchback snowshoe trail for which the race is named.

As you can see, it's quite well signed

No, I don't know about you, but I generally expect switchbacks to be built in such a way that makes a steep hill approachable. These - while less vertical than the mountain itself - were definitely not runnable by someone of my poor talent and fitness.

There were several people in microspikes out on the course as well, though noone would qualify for awards unless they wore snowshoes

See if you can spot the people on each of the next 2 switchbacks far above

While I huffed and puffed and zipped down my jacket all the way to mid-chest, I wondered if it would be possible to safely run these on the way back down without going arse over teakettle and tumbling down the hill. It sure didn't feel like it as my legs groaned with each upward step.

There were lovely views over Georgian Bay, though.

As I neared the top - and steepest sections - of the switchbacks, the 5k leaders began to blast by me at a run. I tried to give an encouraging word (in between gasps) to each of them; their strength and fitness was amazing to see!

Both courses still together for the time being

Oh, Hosanna - I believe I've found the top!

More than thirteen minutes to complete the first kilometer - with my ears popping no less than 3 times along the way - but I eventually emerged on top of a ridge where some friendly folks hung out by a brazier and directed traffic.

Everyone was super encouraging!

Taking a left turn, I found myself on a lovely, flat, sun-lit trail along the edge of the ridge.

Now THIS I can handle!

The wind was very chilly up there, though, so I ended up having to zip my jacket back up a bit to stay warm.

I actually got to run a bit, though, with the Bay off in the distance to my left

Rounding a right-hand curve and cresting a small rise, I came to the "Farm Road" section of the course - a flat straightaway that had me heading away from the Bay.

Well-packed and runnable, so I did.

At the end of the Farm Road the 5k and 10k courses diverge, with the 10k heading onto the Bruce Trail.

"HAZARDS EXIST'

So far it's just narrower, but still flat - good deal, keep running!

The 5k course - as far as I can tell - remains on the ski club's snowshoe trail network.

Yellow flags on the other side of the tree, with yellow rope as a barrier between the 5k and 10k courses

I loved the "Enchanted Forest" trail sign, and soon found it to be entirely descriptive of the stunning woods by which I was surrounded.

Ooh, a little downhill!

Sunshine on snow makes everything look so magical

More downhill through pine forest

I swear I actually did run!

You emerge into a stand of saplings, where the trail crosses some tiny streams or springs.

Still well-packed trail and runnable

Just mind your step..

Next thing I know, I'm standing at the top of basically a cliff, with arrows telling me to throw myself off it.

I literally stopped dead here and said "You've gotta be effin' kidding me"

Had I looked closer at the map, I'd have noticed a section called "Rope Hill". What that means is an approximately 20% grade slope on the wall of a ravine with steel pickets driven into the ground and a rope (actually a garden hose) strung between them.

This.

There was no running happening here. Unsure if the hose would support any weight or if it was simply intended to be a fence, I carefully picked my way down by hanging onto trees and trying to jam my cleats securely into the snow with each nerve-wracking step. I finally made it safely to the bottom of the ravine, where a small stream seems to flow in warmer months.

So very beautiful

The trail got a bit narrow and death-to-the-right-ish.

Looking back at a narrow little wooden footbridge that almost tried to vault me off.

There was little time to admire the lovely scenery, as I now had to climb the opposite wall of the ravine.

Oh, goody.

I was a little more than 3km in, and it was at this time the 10k leader came bombing down the other way as he headed toward the finish. I'd later find out he broke the course record, but it certainly did nothing for my confidence.

As I trudged up yet another hill

I could have sworn this was supposed to be a snowshoe RUN

After another lung-busting ascent, I found myself on the top of a rather bald knob of land.

It only feels like I've climbed up above the treeline.

A brief look behind me yielded the most incredible view of the entire race.

Georgian Bay framed by the Blue Mountains

Then, just to keep things interesting, it was back down another ravine wall.

I'd get down faster if I just threw myself off the side, but there are rather a lot of trees to hit on the way down.

It flattened out a bit, then I came to the bottom of the final climb up to the Loree Forest

If you look carefully, you can see the dark-clad runner behind the gentleman in blue, coming down the side of the peak from right to left

This hill

I moved aside to let the fast people by, including a fellow in microspikes out for a run on the trails with his dog who passed me as I climbed to the Loree Forest loop.

He was much quicker on the ascent than I was.

Just before the top, you pass a really neat rock.

The "Big Rock" mentioned on the map

From there you do a counter-clockwise loop - the only portion of the course that isn't an out-and-back - on a fairly flat plateau.

RUN DAMMIT

Finally able to make a bit of time, I passed the fellow with his dog, only to have him fall into step a few feet behind me.

Beautiful view of Georgian Bay through the edge of the Loree Forest

While the trail was relatively flat, it's still snowshoe running, which is HARD AS HECK. I was starting to get a bit gassed and asked if my new companion would like to pass. Thing is, he was wearing headphones and didn't hear what I said, so asked me to repeat myself. 

Which is totally easy to do when you're gasping for air and trying to keep running

I managed to bark out "DID YOU WANT TO GET BY?", only to have him say no - my "pace was perfect" and he was just "out for an easy run". GAH! My legs and lungs desperately wanted me to drop to a walk to get my heart rate under control, but I couldn't be sue he'd hear me if I said I needed to slow down...so I just pressed on.

While still trying to save a bit of air to thank the wonderful volunteers for being out there for us on a cold day

Toward the end of the loop the trail gets very narrow, and between that and my fatigue I started to get clumsy - I painfully clipped the inside of my left ankle with my right snowshoe, then did so again a moment later. Headphones guy had no trouble heading me yelp when I did so, and asked if I was ok - I just kept running, determined at this point that I wasn't going to let anything slow me down (any more than my already glacial pace).

No passing here.

Views for days

Reaching the end of the loop, I was surprised to see some people still on their way up.

Holy crap - I'm not last!

I tried offering headphones guy a pass as I knew I'd be taking the steep descent from the Loree Forest carefully, but he said he was fine in behind me. Reaching the stream at the bottom of the ravine, though, I stepped aside to take a photo of the little wooden footbridge over the stream and let him by.

It was just so pretty.

Now just over an hour into the race, I also pulled out my Endurance Tap packet and emptied it into my face, washing it down with a few sips of water - I knew it was going to take me more than the 90mins I'd estimated to finish this, and I hoped some fuel and hydration would help me stay on top of my game so I could do so safely. I had been drinking a bit, but not nearly as much as I usually would due to the technical nature of the course and the high intensity of the sections I was able to run.

Headphones guy ditched me solidly as we climbed back up to the bald knob.

I was able to run the flat top of the bald knob and a bit of the descent back down to the first ravine, taking in the view over the Bay one last time.

If you're going to get your arse handed to you, you might as well enjoy the scenery along the way.

Back down to the first stream and over the tiny footbridge, I hoped I'd be able to hustle through the final few kilometers so Tanker wouldn't worry too much about me.

Still grateful to all those who went ahead and packed the course down so nicely.

I knew I only had one more major climb to go before I'd be back to the Farm Road and then the downhill to the finish, so I tried to move efficiently. Thing is, that one major climb is a doozy.

Might as well try to climb a snow-covered wall.

When I reached Rope Hill, I knew I'd just have to trust the garden hose to take some weight. With my right hand on it and legs creaking in protest, I hauled myself up out of that ravine.

Reminiscent of Creemore

Above Rope Hill, there was still climbing to be done - a small pack of ladies with microspikes came wandering the other way, cheering me on and telling me I only had one climb left to go. I thanked them and got on with it as best I could.

Still so very pretty.

With much puffing and gasping, I slowly ascended the winding trail through the forest. 

Still having fun!

The final upslope through a stand of hardwoods saw the sun come back out from behind a bit of cloudcover, bathing the forest in brilliant light.

Ooh, there's that root I tried not to trip over on the way down..

At long last, the trail flattened out as I neared the Bruce Trail gate.

Almost out of the singletrack, and able to run again!

Hard left at the volunteer course marshals, I rejoined the 5k course once more.

I did manage to gasp out my thanks to them!

Looking up the Farm Road, I could see a small group up ahead running. I wondered if I could catch them..

They're just tiny specks in the distance here, but I think it's obvious I aspire beyond my miniscule abilities

I was actually catching up as I reached the turn onto the flat trail along the ridge above the Switchback Trail, taking advantage of the small downslope as I ran along.

There were lots of other trail users of all kinds out

Back to the brazier, then a right turn to hit the switchbacks toward the finish.

It's all downhill from here!

I was pleased to find that - while it felt dangerous as heck and I had to be careful - I was able to bomb down the switchbacks at a run, and was hopeful I could make up some time as I was already past the 90mins I'd told Tank I expected to be on course. I wound my way down, passing the group of runners (who turned out to be wearing microspikes, not snowshoes - I never saw another 10k snowshoe runner) as I did so, and trying to avoid a little boy and his mom who were just out hiking in winter boots and were cutting across the switchbacks. Since the little boy would sometimes emerge just ahead of me, it was a tricky business making sure I didn't mow anyone down as I hurtled along at breakneck speed...by which I mean I absolutely would have broken my neck had I tripped and fallen.

I can only speculate that trying to keep all of these things in check is how I managed to blow the final turn with ~300m to go to the finish. I wondered if I'd gone wrong as I couldn't see any flags, but then again I didn't remember there being any on the ski slope we climbed at the beginning. I mumbled something aloud about "Where are the damn flags? Anyone seen the orange flags?", but stupidly kept running along.

I think this sums it up nicely.

I bailed down a black diamond ski run with all of the grace of a collapsing building, rounded a curve, and saw a completely unfamiliar-looking ski lodge.

What the actual..?

I'd passed a fellow and his young daughter on microspikes on my way down the ski hill, so turned back uphill and asked if he knew where the North Lodge was. He said he didn't, and neither did anyone else I asked as I began to hike back up the steep slope.

This damn thing right here.

Pulling up Google Maps on my phone, I discovered I'd ended up at the wrong effin' resort entirely - I was at the Alpine Club, and needed to get back to Craigleith. The only way to do so was to hike back up.

And I don't mean just a little bit, either.

As I finally made it up to and across the traverse across to the proper freakin' ski club, a ski patroller at the bottom of the switchbacks yelled to me that I was doing great, and she'd been watching me. I wanted to scream something about YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME I WAS GOING THE WRONG DAMN WAY, but I had no oxygen with which to do so as I immediately began to run down the CORRECT ski slope toward the finish.

Managing to snap one last pic looking out over Georgian Bay as I did so.

Apparently Tanker spotted me hurtling down the slope, capturing this image of me on my way to the end and the hill I'd just run down in behind me. 

I didn't figure I'd get any extra credit for the additional 3/4 of a kilometer I'd done

At long last, my poor destroyed legs carried me to the bottom of the hill and across the finish line.

Hardest. 10k. EVER.

Official time: 1:42:04 @ 10:13/km

8/8 W19-39 - 13/17 Women - 33/39 O/A (43 entrants)

(Full official results are here)
(Garmin workout data is here)

Great googly-mooglies, that was tough! My lungs felt like I'd smoked a pack of cigarettes; my quads, hamstrings and calves were shot from the aggressive climbing and bombing descents; even the small intercostal muscles in my ribcage were sore from all the gasping and death whistling; and my left ankle was horribly bruised and had a small chunk taken out of it.

Mrph.

I had my arse thoroughly kicked, not just by the course but by the competition - I hadn't expected to do well, but I had no idea I'd be racing against the likes of Sasha freakin' Gollish! I was quite angry at myself for my miserable bugger-up at the end, as well. All told, I spent most of the rest of the day quite grouchy about what had transpired.

So I decided to drink my complimentary can of cider from race sponsor Thornbury Village Brewing out of my new mug

At the same time, though, I would absolutely do the race again - even if I was dead effin' last. The jaw-droppingly beautiful scenery and incredible views were wonderful, and it feels great to have accomplished something that challenged me to my limits. I am quite pleased with the effort I put out, and my ability to recover from the steep climbing and force myself to run even when my heart rate and breathing were pushed to redline. The organization, volunteers and vibe of the event were fantastic, and with some more experience at running in my snowshoes I might be able to make a better showing...or at least not blow a turn.

#didntdie

With the perspective of a few days - and now that my legs are finally starting to come to rights - I can see that this was far from a failure. It was insanely difficult and perhaps a bit beyond my meagre talent, but the most rewarding things I've ever experienced have all held a tinge of fear and uncertainty. 

And at least I know my sweetheart will always be waiting for me at the end.

So, you can take this report in either one of two ways: either a cautionary tale about getting yourself in over your head, or a challenge to try something that scares you.

Wanna come play?

Many thanks to Craigleith Ski Club, Snowshoe Canada, and all the wonderful volunteers and sponsors who made this happen! To the ski patrollers on course, though - I'm very, very glad I didn't have to put your first responder training to the test.