I hadn’t planned on running against Death this year, but suddenly there I was tightening my laces. After my upset at Sinister 7 in July, I felt like I needed an ounce of redemption. That, and my young new running buddy, Lewis, decided he was going to take a crack at this gruelling ultra marathon. Forget that the longest distance he’d run was 26k. I’m not even sure if that was before or after he’d signed up. I had to see him try, but I could hardly go watch when I was in shape to compete.
A little context is needed. I ran this same race back in 2015. Since then I completed the Beaverhead in 2017 (which put me in the hospital with Rhabdomyolysis for 3 days), I had two back surgeries in 2019, and I’ve been slowly crawling back to ultra shape since. I thought I was there in July. I was, but ultra running isn’t just about being in shape. It’s also about being smart. Pushing yourself, having the grit and tenacity to overcome, is only part of the equation. For real success you need to know how to operate the machine you call your body with extreme expertise. For this reason I’d highly recommend a coach. I have a bad habit of learning the hard way. Yet, I felt like I unlocked a new level of awareness on this run. I beat my 2015 time by 3.5 hours. It wasn’t a perfect performance. I think I could do better, much better. Still, I’m thrilled with the outcome and eager to apply what I’ve learned to my next race. For now, let me break this one down for you, and future me.
Leg 1. Easing you in.
Spirits are high at the start of these races. You can feel the tension though. Runners are all smiles but there is a nervousness to the scene. Athletes, their colourful runners bouncing on the park grass, huddle at the starting gate. There are 317 soloists when the gun goes off. 113 of them won’t finish. Everyone of us knows we may be among the fallen. That doesn’t stop us from trying.
I deliberately chose the middle of the starting pack. I didn’t want to go out too quickly. It was a bit aggravating as we came to a few bottlenecks that brought us all to a walk, but I knew it’d break up, and it was doing the job of keeping me reined in.
The route takes you through residential streets but quickly dumps you on to quad tracks. Town is fun as spectators cheer you on. Children dance on their front lawns and high five the runners. There are a few opportunities to thank the cops controlling traffic crossings, and smile at the volunteers. Most of this leg is downhill. There is a few technical areas, a few short climbs, but for the most part it’s a casual run. At least, that’s how it gets you. Don’t be fooled. Halfway in a runner 10 paces behind me tripped and came down hard in the rocks. We slowed up long enough to determine he was conscious and not bleeding too badly. We all watched our feet more closely.
There is an exciting technical downhill section in this first leg. It’s steep enough that it will slow many people down. For the more reckless and sure footed you gain some serious speed. I clocked my fastest kilometre there, number 10. It would be just a little faster than kilometre 92!
This leg is supposed to be 16.5 kilometres long. They had to move the transition area from previous years. I was surprised to find myself rolling in just after 14 kilometres. Lewis and I would part ways here. He was developing hot spots on his feet from the runners he bought… the day before! (This kid reminds me of someone I know).
I picked up my poles from my crew here (my wife Lisa, and my son Jaron). I filled the bladder in my pack and headed out. The sky was blue and the sun shining. I knew the climb that was before me. The sun would be my enemy. I would need to be diligent.
Leg 2. The grinder.
This freaking thing goes up, and up, and up, until it goes down. And it does this repeatedly. I can’t adequately describe this leg to anyone not possessed with the level of masochism required to pretend this is a trail. No one reading this without having run the trail can understand. However hard you think it might be multiply that by 10.
This leg has you climb and descend more than 6,000 feet in 27.5 kilometres. Many of the descents are so steep runners shorts show evidence of sliding ass first. There are parts where the ascents are more kin to ladders than trails and streams are running down them. This trail is mud, blood, sweat, and I am certain tears. But not my tears, not this time.
I was uber diligent with my nutrition. Every 45 minutes I forced myself to take an energy gel. Between each gel I took a salt tablet. I’d go through 4 litres of electrolyte drink and a litre of pure water. Despite this, a little over 35 kilometres in I developed a massive cramp in my right quad. The sun is relentless, and I was exposed on the back of Grande Mountain. I immediately took two salt tablets, and was impressed with how instant the effect was. I never stopped.
The end of leg 2 is the start/finish line. Those running the Near Death Marathon will finish their race here. I came in to the transition area soaking wet. I was over heating. It was about 28C. It felt like 35C. It was 2:17 pm. I needed this stop. Lisa had it setup like a pro. I changed my shirt. Jaron dumped a bunch of water on me and got me towelled off. I drank half a litre of water, a cup of pickle juice, and sucked back an energy gel. I also popped a 1000 mg of acetaminophen. I was rolling out at 2:29 pm with a full pack and feeling much cooler – like a rock star. The crowd was great.
Leg 3. Heaven and Hell.
This is a beautiful leg. I think the first 85% is in forested shade. You gradually descend into the Smoky River Valley on a springy trail ideal for senior citizens. Which is what everyone is after leg 2. I was cruising. One relay runner passed me like I was standing still, but otherwise, I was picking off soloists like dead flies. Some of them looked pretty dead, especially in that last 15%.
Toward the end of the leg you pop out on a black gravel road. Your heavenly run through the trees suddenly becomes a trip through the gates of hell. You do a few speedy hot kilometres of road running before they spit you back into the trees and force you to get your feet wet after keeping them dry for so long. You’ll finish the leg with a few hot kilometres along the highway in the ditch. The transition area is perfect. You get a couple hundred meters of cheering spectators nestled into the shadow of a mountain. Ideal.
Or it would have been ideal. Where was my crew? They weren’t to be found because they were not there. The announcer calling in the runners kept calling out my number in hopes they were just lost in the crowd. It was only a minute or two before a couple angels came to my rescue, Maude and Angelica. They were tending their own runners but they cleared a seat for me. A friend of theirs took my pack and filled my empty water bladder. He brought me back ginger ale, a pickle, and watermelon. They were quite literally angels.
With their help I took care of all I could. My crew had my poles (I left those at the end of leg 2), my jacket and head lamps, as well my energy gels. I could not assault Mt. Hamel without these things. I took a deep breath and decided I’d use the portable toilets while I was forced to wait. This proved to be a good thing. You may not have ever tried to squat behind a tree after running 90k. I have. It’s not fun. I was feeling pretty grateful for the forced break. I was also feeling quite good all around after these first 64k. I was starting to get worried though. Were they okay!?
I knew Lewis was likely to take some time on leg two. I wondered if they were caught up helping him. I also told them I expected to be about 3 hours. Turns out leg 3 went by in 2 hours 25 minutes. I was standing near the announcer watching cars come in. He was calling out my number from time to time. People were taking an interest and I was a little embarrassed. People wanted to help. “What do you need?” I demurred. I stalled. I insisted my crew would come. I put a deadline of 5:30 pm on it. I told the forming crowd I’d wait till then. Suddenly a man appeared with two head laps (Greg I think). A fellow named Joe straight up gave me his poles and told me to keep them, “they’re just Costco poles.” Berry ran off to get me a windbreaker. Maude and Angelica came forward with energy gels and suddenly they started piling up. There were more than I had room for in my bag. Thinking back on it I’m nearly overwhelmed by the generosity. Maude caught the final moments on film and tracked me down online later to share it with me. You‘ll see me emerge from a tight crowd. Truly the running community is so kind.
I was running again at 5:30 pm. The first bit of trail follows the highway. At 5:32 pm Lisa and Jaron drove by. They made a U-turn and pulled up beside me. I was right. Lewis didn’t exit transition area 2 until 4:50 pm, just a few minutes before I arrived at the end of leg 3. That and no cell signal at the transition area meant no live tracking. They thought I was still on the trail and had plenty of time to get to me. I was deeply relieved that they were okay. They couldn’t give me anything outside the transition area or they’d be breaking the rules. It didn’t matter. I had everything I needed, including the knowledge that they were safe. I felt amazing. It was time to conquer Mt. Hamel.
Leg 4. Approaching divinity.
The climb to the summit of Mt. Hamel is long. This 35 kilometre leg starts out by having you climb 1500 meters (4900 feet) in the first 10-15 kilometres. It is a grind. But I might have been smiling the entire time.
The summit is exposed and the wind can be quite cool. Still, I never felt the need to put on a jacket. The sun had become my friend and was hanging out to give me an extraordinary 360 view. I’ve climbed more peaks than your average person. Maybe it was the euphoria of having just pushed myself for 80 kilometres, maybe it was the crisp air and the elevation. I was in awe, and deeply grateful for the beauty not just in that moment but in my life. God has been good to this fool.
The race takes you out and back on a spur of Mt. Hamel. To ensure you don’t skip this leg of the journey they place a chest of coins at the far end. You need to retrieve a coin here to pay the ferryman to cross the river in Leg 5. No coin, no crossing. I love the tie to mythology this race has.
Coming down the backside of Mt. Hamel is quite technical. I’m sorry for those that would do it in the dark. I did in 2015. It sucked. I encourage you to run faster and do it in the light. Not to say that the backside of Hamel was all fun and games. I was doing a good job of skirting the puddles and keeping my feet dry until I slipped in the mud and came down hard on my side. Thankfully the fall took me away from the giant puddle I was avoiding. My body stayed dry but both my feet were submerged. Ugh. Don’t worry though it gets worse after it gets better.
About this time I started running with a guy named David. We had a good conversation. It was nice to get out of my own head for a while. Looking at the results I think he came in less than 10 minutes behind me. Amazing job David! Thanks for sharing a few miles with me.
I left David near the beginning of Ambler’s loop. This is a 5k loop I’m quite positive was added to this race just to annoy me. There is a check point and aid station here. This I appreciated. I stopped long enough for a cup of hot chicken broth. The best! Thank you volunteers.
The last time I ran this loop it was in the dark. This time I’d enjoy the light. Regardless, I’m still rather blind. As I was coming off the loop back to the checkpoint I stepped directly into a mud hole and sank clear up to my right knee. It looked like I stepped in a bucket of brown paint. I’d be trailing it for miles. They’d be quick miles though.
From the end of Ambler’s loop (kilometre 90) you get nearly 7 kilometres of hard packed dirt road that descends at the perfect pitch for running. I ran my fastest consecutive kilometres of the whole race here. I was flying and I felt great!
The end of leg 4 follows the highway for a while. I was worried my fast descent would get swallowed up with fatigue but the locals were out cheering runners on. I was coming down from my high when a portable speaker in the back of a pickup truck blasted out “I came in like a wrecking ball!” Suddenly my legs had strength again and me and Miley Cyrus made a great duet. They have you cross a wide creek right at the end of this leg. So why worry about keeping those feet dry anyway. I was able to wash off a good deal of the earlier carnage before I rolled into transition area 5. This place is a party! The music is pumping, the propane fire pits blazing, and the glow strips were a plenty.
My spirits couldn’t be any higher at this point. I’d just run a little shy of 100k, and I did it more than 4 hours faster than I ever had before. It was 11 pm. That’s just 15 hours! I found Lewis there. He did not make the cut off at the end of leg 3. Still, 64k is no small feat. Especially when 26 was your previous personal best. I could already tell he wanted another crack at this.
My body was not quite in as good a shape as my mind. I was beginning to feel sick. I downed a cup of pickle juice. Mistake. I really started to feel sick after that. Lisa pealed my shoes and socks off. My feet were a tattered mess. I took a rock to my right ankle somewhere along the trail. It stung to the slightest touch. Little rocks had crept into my shoes. Generally when that happens they work their way to the front of the shoe and cause me no harm. These hung out in the space between my toes and foot. There were multiple blisters forming on both feet. My crew doctored me up as best they could. I was feeling pretty rough physically when I left this TA at 11:30. I didn’t much care though. No matter how this final leg went I felt I’d won. I had secretly been hoping for a 2 am finish. I revised that to 3 am as I left my crew. Bring it on!
Leg 5. Quietly into the night
You run a winding up and down single track through the woods for about the first 7k of this leg. The course is well marked with reflective tape, and tacks pounded into the trees. The moon was nearly full and glowing orange. It was silent. I did not see another runner in front of or behind me during those 7k. No rhythmic pattern of falling feet but my own. I pressed forward steadily but slowed by the dark and the desire to stay on my feet. No amount of suffering could steal from me what I felt I’d accomplished. This silent run into the dark alone, seemed fitting.
There is a checkpoint 500 meters from the river. I had a quick chat with the guardian volunteers there. The descent to the boats is quick. I wonder if everyone these days stops to take a picture with death before they cross that final river. A selfie/ussie might have been more appropriate for our times.
There are a couple boats ferrying runners over the river. It’s a quick ride. I was alone in the boat but for the ferrymen. They gave me a parting warning, “keep your head up a mother bear and cub have been reported in the area.” With that they were off and so was I, toward the lights leading into the dark. There was 11 more kilometres. My watch battery died. I had no real sense of time or speed. I ran and walked and ran some more. I encouraged a few souls I passed and received the same. Softly, softly I ran into the night.
Finish
Before too long I left the trail and gained a dirt road, that turned into the paved sidewalks of Grande Cache. I struggled not to hyper ventilate and I fought tears with shouts of joy. I sprinted, as best I could, through the finish line and into Lisa’s arms. Truly this is heaven. I’d find Jaron asleep in the aid tent. Lewis and his wife, Chelsey, along with his friends (and now ours) Austin and Sam were there too. I was presented with a finishers coin and shook the race directors hands. They treat every finisher as a winner. I love the work they put into this.
I’ll be back next year. Turns out I’m an old guy now. I finished 8th in my age group out of 50. 46th overall, and first in spirit… according to me.
MacAdventures.ca 
Leave a comment