The Dark 24-hour

 After completing The Divide 200, I had no plans to do anymore races, but then I ended up registering for Bar-ka-koo – a 55km trail race in November that I was already familiar with, having competed in the augural event back in 2020. That year, I finished as 1st lady and 1st overall in some extremely challenging wintery conditions. I was really looking forward to doing the race again, but a distinct lack of snow and mild winter temperatures caused my enthusiasm to wane, and when race day came, I wasn’t one of the runners that toed the start line. 

Looking back, it was a good thing that I had already decided against doing the race; the day before, I had an urgent email from my brother over in the UK – my mum was seriously ill in hospital and had gone into respiratory failure, and the doctors and nurses were doing all they could to keep that breath in her lungs. It certainly wouldn’t have felt right gallivanting around woods and collecting tokens with things as they were, and I was glad I had already decided not to race given the circumstances, especially as there was a possibility that I would have to fly out to the UK at a moment’s notice. Thankfully, my mum recovered after a couple of days and was well enough to go back home a week later, much to the relief of all of us. 

It’s been a long time since I last saw my parents, and it’s been almost 9 years since I was last in the UK. I don’t really miss my previous life, but I do still have lots of family and friends over in England and I found it hard being so far away. Knowing that my mum is now back home, the sense of urgency to get over there has eased somewhat, but I do plan on heading over for a visit in the new year – there is certainly lots of catching up to do!

With the emotional strain hearing about my mum, and having already had a busy year of racing, I was relieved that I hadn’t pushed myself once again at Bar-ka-koo, but then Sinister Sports came up with another of their amazing ideas for a race, causing intrigue and curiosity. This time it was a 24 hour event, to be held in early December in an old disused mine. Part of the mine has been refurbished, with a 250 metre tunnel dug into the mountainside consisting of a gravel path and historical facts throughout. The Bellevue Underground Mine (or BUM) is open to the visiting public, but for one weekend only during the mine’s closed season, Sinister Sports would be taking over and having up to 100 runners going up and down that tunnel in the dark. What a crazy yet wonderful idea!

I have been saying for a while now that I wasn’t going to do anymore timed events – I’ve done enough of them over the years and I much prefer to mix things up and challenge myself in different ways, yet this one really had got me. The temperature in the mine would be a constant 0 to 2 degrees, it would be dark with no natural light, the course would consist a 500m out and back route with a turnaround at each end with the idea being to do as many laps as possible, and it would take us up to 200 ft underground at the furthest point. Andy thought it would fun, I thought it would be fun, even the pups thought it would be fun, so it was that I ended up registering for my 10th 24 hour event.

 We made our way down on the Friday, opting to stay at the Stepping Stone Cabins in Beaver Mines, about 20 minutes drive from the race venue. We were taking all three pups with us and with them not being allowed in the mine nor around the aid station (that went out of the window very quickly with some people!), the plan was for Andy to stay at the cabin with the pups for the weekend whilst I ran, and he would drive over to crew me every 4 to 6 hours depending on weather conditions and time of day. From my perspective, I figured this would be ok with it being a looped 24 hour event – I would take advantage of the official aid station rather than taking all my own food for once, and Andy would bring me fresh flasks of tea and coffee to drink, to make sure I had instant access to something warm just in case it really did get chilly in the mine.

A 10am start for the race meant that we were able to have a decent sleep in on the Saturday morning, and we even had time to give the pups a bit of walk before nipping over to Tim Hortons to grab a few things before we started. 

The setup for the racers was located just outside the mine entrance, and it included a warmed aid station that had a wide variety of hot and cold food, a warming tent for the runners, and even a trailer with camp beds, just in case anybody needed to snooze at any point during their race. The warming tent was already overflowing with racers’ gear when we arrived, and there was no space to place my chair nor my gear bag. The weather was pretty chilly outside, and the wind gusts were crazy, already causing damage to some of the equipment provided by Sinister Sports, so they had to reduce the available space to prevent any further damage to things. There were tables located just inside the mine entrance which provided more space, so a few of us decided to set our things up there instead, although spectators were coming and going in the mine throughout the day and stood in that area, which meant weaving through bodies to get to our gear.

I think there were around 30 or so runners that had registered for the 24 hours, with the remainder consisting of those competing in either the 12 hour or the 6 hour events. To avoid congestion at the start, we ran up the hill for approximately 600m, before turning around to head back down the hill and into the entrance of the mine. This worked really well, and despite the tunnel only being a couple of metres wide, at no point during the race did I feel like I needed to squeeze past others or dramatically alter my pace to go around people.

The first thing I noticed when entering the mine was just how dark it was. In the main, there was enough light to see where you were going thanks to the dimly lit lanterns hanging on different sections of the course, but there were a few rocks and stones and some uneven ground in the shadows that caused tripping hazards later on. There certainly wasn’t a need for a headtorch, but it did take some time to get accustomed to the dimness, especially when leaving the tunnel to go the toilet or to grab some food and it was still daylight outside. The bubbling stream running through the mine also made it feel quite chilly, and there was the occasional smell of sulphur in the air which is to be expected given we were in a mine. There were various historical displays that lined the route too that told the story of the mine over the years, and these were a great distraction over the coming hours as we soon lost count of the number of laps we had completed.

With timed events, I find that the hours and minutes just become a blur, and I have no recollection of how things were going at hour 2 or 10 or 15, or at any other point during the race. I do know that for the first 12 hours, we changed direction every 6 hours, but then from 10pm onwards, we changed every 3 hours. These changes in direction are the highlight of timed events - they are refreshing and provide a change of scenery believe or not, and that repetitive motion of using one side of the body for making the turns becomes reversed, giving a break to tired muscles and allowing the other side of the body to catch up. The turns can cause havoc on the ankle, knee and hip joints, and I certainly found my hips starting to suffer far earlier on when compared to running track events, most likely because the turns were much sharper with being an out and back route, rather than a nice oval shape.

In the main though, my race went pretty well. The first few hours were far busier thanks to the different race durations and start times. The six hour runners were flying past, some of the 12 hour runners were moving steadily, whilst the 24 hour runners started at a much slower pace, holding back to conserve energy to help them get through the night. I was aiming for laps of no quicker than 3 and a half minutes, which would give me something like an 11 or 12 minute mile - a pace which I knew I could likely keep going for quite some time. I was running comfortably and well within myself, getting in to the groove and enjoying the motion of running. It was nice to have so many friends taking part, and the support was continuous from beginning to end as we all encouraged eachother to keep pushing forwards.

Although I was running well and feeling strong, there were a couple of things that I wasn't exactly struggling with, but were certainly impacting on my race performance. I can handle running in the cold - crikey, I've ran marathons in -40c as training runs in the past - but that constant freezing point for 24 hours was more difficult, simply because I needed to drink more often, but everything was of course freezing cold. Andy had brought me flasks of tea and coffee which I was drinking every half hour or so, but I desperately needed to drink water and electrolytes as I was still using fluids. But the water was so cold that it hurt my throat as I tried to drink, and the Tailwind and protein drinks I had with me weren't much better. Drinking the icy fluids were then causing a stitch which slowed me down, so I resorted to drinking just the warm drinks which didn't really meet my hydration needs. I got the occasional cramp whilst running – not enough to stop me in my tracks, but certainly enough to be noticeable, and I did crunch my way through some chewable salt tablets to make sure I maintained some kind of electrolyte balance. When I noticed my hands getting puffy and wrinkly, I knew that salts and fluids were a problem, but despite eating and drinking every hour, the swelling wasn’t really subsiding. I wasn’t too concerned, especially as I started to slow down later on and resorted more to walking, but it was something that I really needed to keep an eye on.

The other problem was that we were not allowed to eat in the mine, so we had to leave whenever we needed to refuel. I am so used to walking fast and eating on the move, but I was losing a good 10 to 20 minutes every time I needed to consume calories to keep me going - over the course of the race, this equated to a good 2 hours of stoppage time and I know this is the main reason why I didn't reach my goal of 100 miles. It was also pretty chilly outside the mine as well as inside, and with falling snow on and off and a gusty wind, I having to go outside to stop and eat was becoming a little tedious. I tried to warm up around the fire pits which were of course greatly appreciated, but they just weren't cutting the mustard, so I was heading back into the mine where despite the chill, it was probably still warmer than outside.

In terms of fuel, I was definitely eating more solid foods for this race as my pace was slow enough to digest things without me throwing up. I managed to get quite a few meatballs inside of me, and I think I may have somehow managed a burger at one point. Andy had also brought me Tim Bits and sausage rolls, and a couple of slices of Malt Loaf made a huge difference, providing the taste buds with something a little different from the usual sugary things I tend to eat during longer events. At one point I really fancies a cheese toastie, but having waited for it to cook, I found it a little greasy and fatty tasting for me and ended up munching on a few jelly babies and some chocolate instead. The ice cold crunchy chocolate was very tasty, but the frozen jelly babies were hard work – they took ages to soften and they just sat in my mouth for ages before I gave up and spat them out.

For the first few hours, it was buzzing in that mine, everybody was chirpy, we were even treated to some music that had us singing and maybe a little dancing as we ran around and around, but after the first of the 12 hour runners finished their race at 10pm, things definitely quietened off. I spent a couple of hours with my headphones plugged in, listening to some good old Robbie Williams and singing away to myself. I don’t usually run with music, but this time it helped the hours to pass by more quickly, and it made me feel far more energised.

Usually in a time event, I’m waiting for the sun to go down to cool things off, or eagerly awaiting the sunrise to warm things up. Seeing the dawn breaking when doing these kind of events makes those last few hours feel far more bearable, yet when running the mine, I had absolutely no concept as to what time of day it was. I was using a stop watch so was obviously able to work things out, but those sensory things weren’t there – the sound of birds as they sing their morning chorus, the sky getting lighter as the sun starts to rise and the change in temperature that comes from the warmth of the sun. The BUM gave no hints whatsoever that it getting dark or getting light, nor that life even existed outside of those rock walls. It was very strange. I remember at one point looking at my watch and it was something like 2am – I still had another 8 hours to the finish, and I found it hard just thinking about being in that dark, cold tunnel for another 8 hours extremely hard. It wasn’t just the lack of sensory stimuli, it was also that I had absolutely no idea how far I had ran, nor what pace I was doing. Normally I can focus on hitting the distance milestone, but in the mine, with no GPS, it really was a case of just moving forwards and keeping those legs turning over. We did have a timing chip, and I do know that I hit the 50 mile mark in about 9 hours – with 15 hours to do another 50 and hit the hundred miles, I felt confident that it was going to happen – but the computer system was struggling with the cold and the damp, and even the timing chips were falling off some people’s numbers, and for many hours I had no idea whether I still had a 5 lap lead over the next lady or not. 

I was having trouble staying warm in the early hours. Even the hot coffee that Andy had brought earlier and left in a thermos flask was now only lukewarm, and I started to feel the chills. I initially had no intentions of using the campbeds for a snooze and even scoffed a little at the idea, but a nice warm bed – even if only a campbed – seemed far more appealing after 18 hours underground, so I decided to go for a bit of a lie down in the hope I could warm up a little and feel more revived.

The trailer wasn’t exactly warm despite the heaters, and as I lay on the campbed with my hips, back and glutes throbbing away from all the turns, I still couldn’t get warm. I lay there shivering, trying to get a short 10 minute nap, but sleep just wouldn’t come. I gave up, went and grabbed a bit of hot food, and then headed back inside to continue my forward motion towards what I hoped would be 100 miles.

As we approached the final direction turn with three hours remaining on the clock, my energy levels seemed to return, and my pace started to quicken. Bodies were starting to return to the mine again, and there was a buzz of activity as other runners picked up the pace, hoping to hit their goals for the 24 hour period. Andy came back again at around 9am, and I was so relieved to see him, not only because he brought warm, fresh food and drink supplies, but also because we were finally into the last hour, and the countdown had begun.

It was difficult for me running blind so to speak, not knowing how far I had already gone and whether I needed to move even quicker to hit the hundred miles. The sole purpose of a timed event is to go as far as you can in a given time, so in reality it didn’t really matter – but then everybody has their own targets, and I think we were all chasing them over that final hour. I must say that the Sinister Staff were absolutely amazing, hanging out with the runners for pretty much the entire race, offering encouragement, cheering us on and giving us high fives at the start and end of each lap. 

With 10 minutes on the clock, there was a frenzy of activity and some folks were absolutely blasting it through that tunnel. I got caught up in all the excitement, and my pace quickened too, and as we came in to the last couple of minutes, folks were yelling at us to keep running, keep pushing, as we could still squeeze in another lap. I went out on what I thought was my final lap, and finished with 30 seconds to go before the race ended. The rules stated that we could start another lap if time still remained, but we had to be back within 10 minutes of the race ending. I wasn’t going to go, but with so many people cheering and yelling, I had no choice but to go out for that final lap. It was wild, it was crazy, but it was so much flaming fun!

I had no idea where I had finished nor how far I had ran until I actually got to the post race brunch that was provided for runners, support crew and volunteers. I finished 2nd lady with 150.5km or around 94 miles, with the winning lady breaking the hundred. Was I disappointed? Not in the slightest! I know that without all the stopping to eat and drink, I would have got to the 100 miles and I was actually very happy to finish on a nice round(ish) number – 150km in a mine doesn’t sound too bad at all. Position wise I wasn’t really thinking of a podium finish for this one, but I was of course very happy to complete my racing year with another 2nd place – at almost 51 years of age, I’m very happy that I can still get up there, and compete with some much younger runners!

Would I do this race again? At the time, I would say no, and even today I would hesitate. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it – the whole concept is still wild to me, and I loved the innovation from the Sinister team – but it is more to do with it being a timed event, and the fact that yet again, I am saying “no more!” It’s crazy to think that I can happily fun for 24 hours or more when there is no time limit but you have to run a set distance, yet when I know I HAVE to run for 24 hours, I find it much, much harder. Loops don’t bother me as I tend to get into the rhythm of running consistent laps, but running for time means you don’t really know how far you have to run. Even if you speed up or slow down, the time is still the same – it’s  not like you get to the destination or the finish line or the aid station more quickly, and therefore the finish comes more quickly. Time events are HARD!

The race itself was top notch, and everything appeared to go perfectly to me, with only minor issues that can easily be resolved for next time. There were some who were concerned about the environmental conditions and the impact on health, but whilst it was chilly and damp in there, I have experienced far worse and still come out the other side - it's like anything else in life - you assess the risk and make your own decisions as to whether to participate or not, and I'm glad I did take part.

So as my racing season has finally come to an end for 2023, there's no denying that it has been one heck of a year, and I have been happy with every single race that I've done. Turning 50 has been amazing, and I'm so happy that I have been able to fulfil the challenges I set for myself. Next year won't be quite as busy but I still hope to have some fun and get out to the trails and mountains for some amazing adventures, and I hope that anybody that still follows this blog gets out there and has some fun too.

Wishing you all a lovely Christmas, and here's to happy and healthy new year.