Heading into the Canadian Death Race, I was hopeful
of running a sub 18 hours this time, but also realistic in that a sub 18 was
unlikely and perhaps somewhat ambitious. The earlier part of this year was
spent doing my long runs on the track as I prepared for a 24-hour track race
that was just six weeks ago - going from pancake flat to mountain running within
such a short window was always going to be a challenge.
We had originally planned on staying at tent city as we
had done previously, but sadly a friend had to defer his entry due to injury so
we took his hotel room instead, Whilst I love my camping, the thought of a
hotel room the night before sounded fantastic and I was quite relieved not to
have to faff a round with a tent when we arrived in Grande Cache late afternoon
on the Friday.
Arriving in town, it was already extremely warm and the
wildfire smoke from the BC fires was pretty bad, Conditions for race day were
going to get even worse, but I had been forcing myself to drink and eat lots
more on my training runs, and I was fairly confident that I would be able to handle
the heat pretty well. I had also completed a 50 miler in smoky conditions a
couple of years ago, so I was hoping that I could cope with things this time
around and it wouldn't affect me too much.
Race day dawned and I was pretty excited to be finally doing
a proper in-person race after 18 months thanks to Covid. I saw quite a few
familiar faces but didn't really get the chance to say hello properly before
the race started, but I figured I would likely bump into people out on the
course, either on the trails or whilst moving through the aid stations.
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| Picture Credit Steve Baker |
Despite the excitement, I was also a little nervous. I'd
already made a couple of rookie mistakes whilst prepping my drop bags the previous
night - accidentally packing my Tailwind in them, putting the wrong lids on my
bottles causing them to leak, and forgetting to put enough gels in one of my
packs - but I told myself that having already made those mistakes, everything
else would go smoothly on race day - all I needed to do was stay hydrated and
make sure that I actually ate!
The race started at 8am, and whilst it still felt like
there was a good crowd racing today, numbers were actually halved compared to
what the race normally allows. I got through the start line pretty quickly, and
followed the lead runners out onto the road for the next couple of miles
through town before hitting the trails. I got a little emotional being amongst
the trail running community again, and all the cheers from the crowds lining
the streets at the start shouting "Go Death Racers” almost had me blubbing
like a baby. It was pretty special hearing it all again after so long!
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| Heading out on lap 1 - Photo credit Raveneye Photography |
Having done Death Race two years ago, I seemed to
remember leg 1 being the easiest and the shortest leg of the course. Things
were much, much dryer than the previous time I had done the race, and I made
good progress as we wound along the trails through the trees. I'd started more midpack
this time rather than towards the back, so I expected to be moving more
smoothly and much more efficiently. On checking my watch, I was making good
time at around 9-to-10-minute miling and I was feeling relaxed and well within
my comfort zone.
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| Pretty flowers on leg 1 - Photo Credit Raveneye Photography |
Leg 1 flew by without incident and before I knew it, I
was making the turn into the aid station. It was still quite early but things
were already heating up, and I was surprised to see that I had already drank a
good litre of fluids in just the first 8 miles. I missed Andy at the first aid
station, so I found my drop bag, munched through a banana to make sure I had
some solid food inside of me, and then refilled my backpack with more food (the
stuff I had was starting to melt and it was gross!), and I grabbed 4 half litre
soft bottles to take with me, filling two with Tailwind and the others with
water.
Leg two is where the climbing really starts, and at 30km,
it is also one of the longer legs. This was where I made up considerable time a
couple of years ago as I power hiked my way up the trails and overtook many of
the lead packers and I was kind of hoping for a similar scenario this time.
Having not done as much climbing leading into the race, I knew that I wouldn't
be as strong on the climbs, but I was still happy to be making good progress up
Flood Mountain, passing quite a few folks as the climbing started. I noted once
again that the majority of people were using poles, and whilst we all have the
choice as to whether to use them or not, I was starting to find them very
annoying. As the trail narrowed, there was a constant line of runners ahead of
me, all tap, tap, tapping away with their poles, and the noise was starting to
irritate me. I also couldn't get past people as some of those poles were either
clipping my heels with people too close behind me, or were blocking the trail
and causing a risk of tripping if I tried to overtake. I couldn't wait until
the race split, and the marathon runners headed left whilst all the 125km
runners headed right - last time this really thinned out the field, and I was
able to find some space and run my own race.
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Leg 2 and enjoying the mountain streams!
Photo credit Raveneye Photography |
But when we reached the turn to head to the summit of
flood, it seemed like EVERYBODY was turning right, and I still couldn't find
the space I needed to just stretch my legs and run the pace I knew I was
capable of. The time I had made up on the first leg was now slipping away, and
I found myself running the pace of whoever was in front of me as I couldn't
pass them on the narrow trail.
As we reached the summit, I noticed instantly just how
bad the smoke really was, and the surrounding mountain peaks were shrouded in a
smoky haze. The smell of burning was also in the air, and whilst I didn't seem
to be too affected, I was aware of a dull headache that had started to bother
me and my eyes were starting got feel dry, itchy and sore.
I was still eating and drinking really well, and had
already consumed over a litre of water by the time we reached the summit. I was
dripping with sweat and soaking wet, but I knew there was some shade coming as
we hit slugfest, and midway through there, there would be another water station
where I could refill.
I managed a good couple of miles of strong, confident
running, but once again I hit a bottleneck at the start of the steep downhill
towards slugfest. I am quite a confident downhill runner, but some runners were
cautiously making their way down the hills, trying not to trip over tree roots
or rocks, and I had no choice but to tuck in behind them. It was extremely dry
and dusty too which made it quite slippery - at least int eh mud back in 2019,
you could just slide down in the mud but the dusty conditions didn't give my
shoes much to grip to.
I do love the run through slugfest though and as we hit
our first stinky, muddy, boggy section, I was having so much fun! I desperately
tried to get past people but there were just too many ahead of me on the single-track
section, so I just tried to enjoy the moment and not get too grumpy. It wasn't
long before we reached the water station, and by then, I had already drunk 3
bottle of water and needed to refill. I saw a crowd of runners ahead of me and
initially thought they were moving slowly up the trail, but nope, they were waiting
to refill their bottles and there was a line of at least 15 ahead of me. My
heart sank. I couldn't risk not refilling, but I knew I would be wasting so much
time waiting here. In the end, it took over 12 minutes before I was on my way
again, and as my watch beeped a ridiculously slow 27-minute mile, I was HUGELY
disappointed and extremely frustrated!
I headed off up the trail, ready to take on the climb to
the summit of the next mountain, and as the trail once again hit forest trails,
I was glad of the shade and a bit of space to myself again. A few mountain
streams were running through the forest, so I made sure to stop to wet my hat and
buff in an attempt to keep cool. I was still feeling pretty good - sure the
climbs were starting to make the legs feel tired and I had a long way still to
go, but in general, I was feeling good and coping really well with the
conditions.
Heading down powerline, I had forgotten just how rocky
some sections were and I could feel my big toe starting to get bruised from
stubbing all the rocks on the steep downhills. I tried to make up some ground
on the downhill and passed quite a few other runners, and I was so happy to
finally reach the bottom and the pathway that would take me into town and
signify the end of leg 2. The run back into town was a bit of a slog and this
was the first place where I had the urge to walk even on the flatter sections -
I needed some food inside of me, and even though I had now drunk 3 liters of
fluids, I was feeling thirsty and in need of an ice-cold drink.
Coming in to the second aid station, I was so happy to
see Andy. He was able to take control and refill my bottle for me as well as
grab me some food, whilst I busied myself changing into dry clean socks and
grabbing another banana. I was by now half an hour behind schedule but with
Hamell still to come, I was still hoping I could claw back some time there and
be on target for at least a sub-19-hour finish.
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| Leg 3 here I come! Photo credit Raveneye Photography |
Leg 3 is another pretty easy leg - short at around 20k or
something, and not a great deal of climbing. this was the stretch where
grizzlies are normally wandering around and I remember being on edge running
through here last time. This time however, I didn't feel quite so isolated having
encountered several other runners either just ahead or behind me on that trail.
There had been lots of erosion on this leg over recent months and some
stretches had either been washed away or were extremely rocky which slowed my
pace somewhat. I was still coping pretty well with the heat, was still eating
and drinking, and I was feeling pretty happy with myself and the race now that
there were fewer runners around me. But I also found this leg much tougher than
I remembered and I did have to walk much more than before. the lack of hill
running was starting to take its toll, and yes, I was starting to feel a little
tired in the legs. But I had dealt with this so many times in other races over
the years, and I knew that so long as I just kept on moving, my legs would be
ok and I could still make it to the finish line.
Hitting the bridge and the next checkpoint, I was informed
that a bear had been seen between there and the aid station, so I spent the
next couple of miles just yelling and clapping in case that bear was still
hanging around - with a mile or so through thick, dense brush, I have to say
that I was pretty much pooping myself, but thankfully I didn't spot the bear,
although he may well have been watching me and just let me pass him by!
Finishing leg 3, I was still feeling pretty good, but the
next leg would be the real test. Leg 4 - the Hamell ascent - is where I lost a
ton of time in 2019, so I was determined to not let it beat me this time. Andy
once again met me at the aid station, and he made sure I ate some food, had a
good drink, and had plenty of food and fluids to keep me going for the next
38km, I was well behind my ambitious goal of 18 hours, but so long as I kept
things going, I was still on track for a 19 hours finish - that made me very
happy :)
A change of shoes and fresh clean socks once again made a
huge difference, and a quick sit-down to make sure I refulle3d before the climb
worked wonders. I was feeling excited, happy, and ready to climb for the next couple
of hours! I gave Andy a cheery wave and said I'd see him in the next 5 to 6 hours
and I set off feeling confident that NOW I really could get into my race.
Leg 4 is definitely the toughest with something
like 10km of climbing that would take us to the summit of Mount Hamell at over
7,000 ft. The weather up there can change at the last minute, so even though it
was still over 30 degrees Celsius, I took a windbreaker and waterproof with me
just in case. the heat could also trigger thunderstorms, and I really didn't
fancy being up there in a storm!
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Smoky mountain views but still great trail running :)
Photo credit Raveneye Photography |
The first 5k of the leg twists and turns through the
trees, and it has quite a steep incline in parts. It was here where I had gone
lightheaded and faint last time from lack of fluids and fuel -I wasn't about to
make that same mistake again! I started the climb strongly, keeping a nice and
steady rhythm going, but after an hour of just going up and up and up, and
seeing just trees, mentally it did start to get to me and I just wanted to
reach the opening where the next checkpoint would be - it was there where I had
wasted the half hour last time, and I wanted to keep moving through there and
get to the switch backs. A few others runners came past me on that initial
climb, all of them with poles once again, whilst I had hands on my hips or my
thighs as I pushed myself up the climb. I'm never sure whether poles would be a
help or a hindrance to me, but at that moment, I was pretty sure that having
that extra bit of push would have been greatly appreciated!
Eventually I found myself on my own, and having spotted
some bear scat, I started yelling and making lots of noise again, just in case
that bear was hiding in the bushes waiting to frighten the life out of me! Over
an hour later, I finally made it out of the trees, and on passing though the
checkout, I was so chuffed that I had kept things going this time, and was feeling
confident of a good finish.
I couldn't recall running along the forestry road before the
switchbacks, and when I saw the undulating route, I must admit to feeling a bit
defeated. I had visualized those switchbacks and a strong climb to the summit,
but this forestry road just seemed to go on and on and on, and it was getting
rockier and more technical the higher I climbed.
A few moments later, my right leg started to cramp in the
groin area, in the quad just above my knee, and also in my shin. It was
twitching like crazy so I punched it a few times in the hope to get some feeling
back, and figured that it must have been causing my lack of salt. I had still
been drinking, but my drinks had become jumbled at the last aid station and I
had been drinking purely water as the electrolyte was in my backpack. I grabbed
a salt table and then about 5 minute later I took a good drink of Tailwind -
the cramp subsided and I was able to start running again. But as I started
running, I was overcome with nausea, and the next minute I was yet again
throwing my guts up. I was so disappointed - the sickness just kept coming and
I couldn't stop for the next 20 minutes or so. I needed to drink and I needed
to get some food into me otherwise my race would be over, but every time I
tried to eat or drink, my body just wasn't having it.
I tried to eat at the next checkpoint before the switchbacks,
I even had a sit down to help me to overcome my current feeling of
disappointment. It was one hell of a long way to the next aid station where
Andy would be waiting for me, my energy levels were dropping, and I was having
difficulty just walking up the mountain side. Add to that it would be going
dark in the next hour or two, I really didn’t know what to do.
I carried on up Hamell, hopping that I would eventually
be able to get some fuel inside of me, but every step was just sapping my
energy. A few more runners came past me, and I had a feeling that I would be
last runner at this rate, but apparently, I was still making good time, and
even if I had walked all the way to the finish, I would still have made it
within the 24-hour time limit.
I made it to the summit I collected my flag form across the
ridge, but I could no longer run and was spending so much time walking. so many
awesome runners offered me drinks and food and encouragement, so he ran with me
for a while in the hope of getting me going again, but my body had had enough.
Even the downhill on the other side of the mountain
didn't get me running. I found myself alone, and the panic about wildlife
encounters whilst feeling dizzy set in, the fear of tripping and falling in the
dark because I wasn't focused, so many risks and ifs and buts. I so desperately
wanted to finish the race, but I also argued with myself that carrying on the
way I was feeling really was stupid. I knew that if I could just get to the end
of leg 4, I would definitely finish as I could manage leg 5 even if it was
slow. But what I didn't want to do was walk for another 45km just to say I had
finished - I had to run, or at least run most of it, otherwise what was the
point? I knew that when I got to the next aid station at the Ambler Loop, I had
the 5km loop to do before heading down the Beaver Dam Road for just 5 miles.
But that still sounded like a long way if I ended up walking - it meant another
2 hours at least, and it did not appeal in the slightest. I made the decision
that if they had something different to eat at Ambler, if they had something to
drink other than just water and Tailwind, then I would take a short break
before continuing. If not, then my race would be over.
Another runner caught me and he had been having trouble
with his IT band. We stayed together for quite a while and he did try to talk
me out of a DNF, but I think my decision had already been made. ON reaching
Ambler Loop Aid Station, I tried to drink some pickle juice but it didn't do
what I needed it to do, and with no other options to help me get back on track
other than what I'd been trying for the past 3 hours, I decided to call it a
day. I'd covered around 82km or 51 miles - that was enough today, and I
accepted that this was my fifth ever DNF in over 38 years of competitive
racing.
Looking back on the Canadian Death Race 2021, I am still
disappointed that I didn't finish. I was so concerned about the heat and smoke
and yet I had handled both extremely well - it was just that sickness yet again
that ruined my race and I just couldn't recover from it. I've tried so many different
approaches to nutrition during races in recent years, and every time, something
just doesn't seem to work. Had I been on the track or doing a looped race, I
would likely have continued, but when in the mountains on the trails with so
many hazards, I had to do the sensible thing and retire form the race, I did
not want to be that person that was too stubborn, and then ended up becoming a
problem for the race organizers and mountain rescue.
Mount Hamell beat me again, but I have already made the
decision to go back for a third time to conquer that darn mountain again next
year. Things I will do differently - I will use poles, I will make it my A race
of the year, and I will train specifically for a mountain marathon – none of this
track running but rather lots of mountains and trails and hills - I'm
determined!
I also felt like I had let Andy down. He is always there looking
after me during these races, and when I have a crap run, I feel like I've
failed him. Of course, he disagrees, but I still can't get that though out of
my head. Nobody else matters, but my husband does, and I always want him to be
proud of me.
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| Family downtime in Jasper :) |
We followed the race up with a few days camping in Jasper (See my YouTube channel if you want to see what we got up to!)
and had a great few days with just us and the pups. We didn't do much hiking -
it was so smoky out there and then Andy popped his back and couldn’t walk, so
we just did some short walks and relaxed at the campground. It was a perfect
way to clear the mind and make plans for next year’s racing season, and talk
tactics on how I will have my best run ever at CDR. I may have quit, but I
ain't no quitter - I will be back and this time, I will hopefully have the race
I know I am more than capable of :)
