Back in the days of the COVID pandemic, a race popped up on my radar that was just an hour's drive from home. It was a 55km trail race in November, and it would mimic some of the traits that are more commonly associated with The Barkley Marathon. This new race was Bar-ka-koo - 5 laps of 11km, run in alternate directions, where one had to collect and carry a log on every lap as proof you'd been to each of the checkpoints. With a 10-hour cut off, it was either a very generous time limit even with the snow, or it was going to be one heck of a tough course. It turned out to be the latter, and with just 4 solo finishers that year and no teams finishing, it began to gain a reputation for being a darn hard race. I was one of the finishers that year in 9 hours and 4 minutes - whether it was the deep snow and bitter cold weather that year that made it a hard slog, or whether it was the brutal course that had my body aching for a week afterwards I don't know, but I knew one day I...
I've done so many races in my time and sometimes, I feel terribly selfish taking up other people's time just so that I can run, and they never ask for anything in return. The race organisers - especially those that aren't run for profit - spending so much of their own time making sure everything goes like clockwork on the day, and then of course the volunteers, some of which stand around for hours on end to help out us runners. That's why in recent years, I have made a conscious effort to give something back to the sport I love, by volunteering and supporting other runners to successfully complete their races too. Over the past couple of months though, I've found another way to help and support other runners, and especially my friends, and that's through pacing. I've never really paced anybody at a race before. When I lived in Arizona and competed in ultras in the US, it seemed like pacers were allowed at any race of 100km or longer. I'm thankful to my o...