The Divide 200

The Divide 200 went far better than I expected, and there's no denying that for me personally, it was one of my best races where everything went almost perfectly.

I went into the race with no expectations, my only goal being to finish no later than 11.59am on the Saturday. I'll be honest in saying that from the moment I registered, the thought of running 200 miles always seemed within my reach and I didn't find it intimidating. What was intimidating was the elevation gain and the terrain I would be running through - living in Leduc, there was no way I could replicate those long climbs and descents in training, neither could I find somewhere close by that would mimic those rocky, technical mountain trails - running on the Devon trails or in the Edmonton River Valley was the best I could do on a regular basis, and with daily strength sessions that included half an hour of step-ups, I just hoped it would be enough to carry me up and over mountain summits and undulating ridges, with close to 40,000 feet of climbing over the 200 miles.

Since getting home from the race, I've really struggled to articulate exactly what the whole experience meant to me. I had so many thoughts and emotions during the 84 hours and 28 minutes it took me to finish, which is a considerable amount of time for those thoughts and emotions to build up. The event stimulated all 5 senses in one way or another - the magnificent views we were treated to daily, the deafening silence when on a mountainside in the middle of the night, the feeling of icy cold water at river crossings at midnight, the awesome and satisfying flavour of salt and vinegar crisps at breakfast when that's all you've been craving for the past 3 hours, and the wonderful smell of pine trees at the break of dawn when crossing the Continental Divide and making my way into BC.

I've so many memories that I want to share, others I want to mention just so I never forget, and then there are others that are far more personal, things I want to hold on to just for me.

There's no doubt that this is going to be a long one, but I hope you'll stay with me as I take a step back and try to relive my experience of western Canada's first 200-mile race - the inaugural Divide 200.

The Build-Up

From the moment Sinister Sports first introduced the race, I was keen to be a part of it. 2023 would be my 50th trip around the sun, and whilst some folks have a mid-life crisis at milestone birthdays, I felt a need to do something that would be challenging for me - something that would test my resilience, test the limits of my body and my mind. I'd done several 100-milers, I'd even reached 150 miles in a backyard ultra, but I needed something that would test me even further, something that would prove to me that age is not a barrier, and that anything is possible if you just believe in yourself. A 200-mile race in the mountains of Southern Alberta seemed perfect, so I threw my name into the hat for the lottery draw.

I was a little cynical about the lottery. Prior to the draw, I'd already got my own list of runners likely to be drawn based on their experience and presence in the running community, and when pretty much all of those runners got drawn on the first attempt, it all but solidified my thinking that it was rigged - big, popular names were going to pull in the crowds far more than lil' old me! In hindsight, my thinking was completely unfair, and I now know that it was just my frustration at missing out yet again in a race lottery, and my way of handling the disappointment. A second drawer was made a few days later after some folks declined their entry, and it was then that Adela Salt of Leduc, Alberta was pulled from the hat - I was in, and the excitement and reality of what I was hoping to do finally kicked in!

I had all the grand plans of heading to the area during the summer months to familiarise myself with the course, but life got in the way and those best laid plans for lots of mountain runs and adventures slowly diminished. Knowing that it just wasn't feasible to head to the mountains every couple of weeks, I made sure I ran as many local hilly trails as possible and incorporated lots of strength work into my weekly routine and building the strength in those muscles needed for climbing mountains. 

My race schedule leading up to The Divide 200 was also tailored to ensure I was as prepared as possible - Hill of a Race to focus on hills, MoMoRoGO where I ran 4 times up and down Moose Mountain Road purely for elevation, distance, and long drawn out downhill running, Lakou Backyard Ultra to get used to running at all times of the day and night, I ran a 6 hour track race at Survivorfest where I started at 2am to get me used to running in the overnight after being on my feet all day, and then more specific mountain races which included the Sinister 50 miler and Canadian Death Race.

Whilst I was starting to feel both physically and mentally prepared for the race, one aspect of the planning was really stressing me out, and that was trying to find pacers. I've only ever used pacers in four previous races and they were all 100 milers in the US, so I was quite prepared to run the 200 miles completely solo if it came to that. 

The Divide 200 allowed up to 4 pacers, and back in April, I had four folks that were willing and able to join me for a small part of this 200-mile journey. Unfortunately, whilst these folks had the best intentions to help out, life can and often does get in the way; injuries happen, folks need to back-out for personal reasons, or sometimes the logistics of travelling just aren’t feasible, and I lost all but one of those that had committed earlier in the year. I posted numerous times to see if anybody else would be available, but it was hard. So many people offered but they were only available towards the end of the week – kids were back at school, and trying to take more vacation time from work was difficult for some – and I was really struggling to find anybody for the middle sections during the week. 

The problem was that having never ran 200 miles before, I couldn't give definite arrival times at the checkpoints. I tried to provide rough estimates, but there was a real possibility that I was going to be way ahead of schedule. I was being very generous with my timings which could potentially mean I’d be waiting a few hours for pacers to show up when I could be out doing the next section of the race. I felt terribly selfish stipulating that I needed commitment yet flexibility, but if I wanted to do this, I needed to be firm about my needs. As it turned out, I WAS ahead of schedule by about 2 or 3 hours each time, and the four amazing pacers that stepped in for me were there for me when needed. I really don't think I will ever be able to thank Barb, Shane, Tyson and Pawel enough for their commitment, flexibility, strength of character, enthusiasm and caring natures whilst out on those trails, and I will always feel indebted to them for how much they helped me out there.

With pacers sorted, I could finally relax and get myself ready to run. Andy would once again be my sole crew member, and with my little dog Wilson joining us, it would give me something to look forward to at the crew accessible checkpoints. We chatted ahead of time about what I would want to eat at the checkpoints, and we had a whole array of tasty food to suit my needs during the race. Whether I would eat any or all of it remained to be seen, but having the choice was important so that I didn't get bored of eating the same food every day.

My sleep strategy was another unknown aspect about the race. I had watched videos by folks who had done 200-mile races, and everybody seemed to deal with things differently. I read blog posts that people had written, read magazine articles, and even chatted to people on the course on day 1 about what their strategy would be. So many different options - bank sleep early on then you can push in the second half, run 100 miles then start to sleep, run until the hallucinations start then sleep for a few hours, take a 90-minute sleep as this is the best length of time to recover and be ready to run again - no wonder I didn't know how to tackle this aspect of the race! Yet looking back, my approach worked perfectly for me. I had around 4 hours sleep during the 3 and a half days I was out there, each nap no more than an hour. What I found was that my legs would be so achy and tired coming in to the checkpoints, but an hour of snoozing in the back of the car seemed to ease those aches and pains, and by the time I'd eaten, I was raring to go again and feeling strong, the legs tired but loose. There were certainly times when I felt sleepy and I started to feel my balance going a little, but I just focused on the ground in front of me or distracted myself with the views, and those moments quickly passed. I also didn't experience any hallucinations until the last couple of hours of my race - 195+ miles, or 82+ hours in, and I started to see things in the trees that were of course imaginary - quite the experience indeed!

So how did my race pan out, and what was it truly like to cover 200 miles of Rocky Mountain Trails? Here's the nitty gritty of it all, written from checkpoint to checkpoint to reflect things in some kind of order - my thoughts may have become jumbled, but it goes something like this.

 

RACE DAY! Tuesday September 12th- 8am 

Start to CP1 - West Castle Road (Leg Distance 12.5km)

Having made Castle Mountain Resort our main base for the race, I didn't need to be up stupid early on race day - a short one minute walk across the parking lot took me to the start line, so I was in no great rush to have my breakfast which consisted of my usual bowl of porridge and a cup of tea, followed by a coffee. I'd spent some time the previous evening packing my backpack for the first day, the pack initially feeling very heavy and me wondering whether I was taking far too much stuff with me. I wouldn't be seeing Andy for several hours - in fact it would be 69km before I saw him - and in between, there was lots of climbing and ridge running to be done. I needed to be sure I had enough food and water to keep me going, as well as the right gear to keep me warm and comfortable when we reached those heights of 7,000 ft or more on the exposed ridge lines, and especially when night time came.

Pre-race photo with my fave boy :)

I'd also been testing and testing my Garmin In-Reach Mini, making sure it was tracking me and pinging my location as it was meant to do, and I had my phone tucked away as an additional navigation aid if needed. This first day was meant to be the toughest, and there would be some sections that might be difficult to follow - organisers were adamant that we had a way of being able to navigate the course other than just relying on the flagging, and I had loaded the GPX files into my phone so I could track my location even if there was no data or cell service available. 

I was almost late for the start thanks to a last minute panic with the in-reach, and I missed my usual start line photo and hug and snuggle from Andy and Wilson. I dashed in to the starting pen with 2 minutes to spare, not having the chance to chat with anybody and let the pre-race nerves surface before the starting gun sounded, and we all started to move forwards - The Divide 200 had begun, and around 90 runners made their way across the start line, many of which were tackling the distance for the very first time.

Checkpoint 1 was around 12km away, and based on the courses description, I anticipated it taking me around about 2 hours. Most of the runners were running quite quickly from the get-go and they soon disappeared into the distance, leaving me running pretty much solo. I took my time and was getting into my easy rhythm - pacing was everything in this type of race, and if I stuck to my game plan, even if I was slow compared to everybody else, I was confident that I would still finish within the 100 hours cut-off. The trail was a little rocky in sections but perfectly runnable, and even the slight incline was barely noticeable as I ran along. It felt like a normal day of running for me, the reality of what I was attempting not quite yet sinking in, my prime focus being to just get through this first day before things apparently got easier. Some sections included a bit of bushwhacking, but I was making good progress and before I knew it, the first checkpoint was just ahead. 

There were several other runners at the checkpoint and more came in as I refilled all my bottles ready for the next section. From CP1 to CP2 we would make our way over La Coulotte Ridge, and we had been warned that there were no water sources for the next 18km or so. I had been sure to drink lots on the first stretch to make sure I was hydrated before starting the climb, and I had already peed about 3 times.  I'd also made sure to eat something with plenty of calories to keep me going, topping up both food and fluids at the aid station before continuing on my way. I'd already lost track of time, but I did indeed complete the first leg in around about 2 hours and I was happy. On to the next!

CP1 to CP2 – West Castle Road to Font Creek via La Coulotte Ridge (Leg Distance 24km)

This stage of the race was the one that had conjured up a whole host of fear inside of me! Descriptions of gnarly trails, moving at just 3 kilometres per hour, bushwhacking, difficulty route finding - I admit that I was scared, yet also excited at the thought of going up high to a place I'd not been before. I'd tracked down some YouTube videos of people hiking this ridge, but the videos didn't do it justice when compared to actually being up there myself.

 

Heading towards La Coulotte Ridge 
|Photo credit: Fleeting Reality Photography

The steep climbing started pretty much straight after CP1, and from then onwards, my poles became my new best friend, never leaving my hands except for when eating and sleeping. A few of us were now bunching up as the climbing got much steeper, heads down and lots of huffing and puffing as we made the ascent. I had to stop at one point to remove a layer of clothing – whilst things had been cool at the start, the climb was causing me to sweat profusely and it was making it feel even more like hard work than it already was. I was moving forwards albeit at a snail pace, and as things gradually started to flatten out, the trees became more sparse and I saw the first major climb up to the ridge in all its splendour. I could already see the runners a good half hour ahead of me making their way over that ridge, moving like tiny ants in the distance. 

 

The climb up the first peak set the precedence for the rest - it was steep, there were some sections with cliffs off to the side, and whilst footing was generally good, there were some very steep downhill sections alongside those cliffs that had me frozen to the spot. I could see the course flagging down below but my body was reluctant to move despite my mind telling it otherwise. Another runner came up behind me and he made light work of that descent so I tentatively followed, my confidence building the further I ran down that slope. As the trail finally started to climb again, I was filled with relief that my legs hadn’t gone all wobbly and I hadn’t fallen and gone rolling down the mountainside! 

Views from La Coulotte Ridge

the first ascent of the ridge

 

No sooner had we gone down than we started to go up again, scrambling over rocks, dodging fallen trees, and trying to spot the flagging as we made our way through an area where there definitely was no defined trail. Another group of runners caught me up, this time ladies, and we ending up teaming up for the rest of the day, running together and keeping each other on track until later on into the night. I am so grateful to these ladies - Sandra, Tia and Dani - and we shared stories of life with each other for many hours that day.

 

The next few hours followed pretty much the same format - up, up, up, down, down, down, up, up, up - progress was definitely slow, and at one point we commented on how long we had actually been going, but we’d only covered something like 25km since the start. The highest of the summits provided us with an extremely rocky climb which was followed by scree on the descent, and it was far easier to "ski" down the scree slope than try to run. This of course meant our shoes got full of rocks from the scree, some of them sharp and uncomfortable, so at the first opportunity, off came the shoes and socks to empty out all the rocks, hoping we'd got them all and that we didn't get any blisters.

 

Whilst progress may have been slow, the views from the summits were incredible, and I couldn't help but gawk at them as I tried to stay upright and make forward progress. I took endless photos up there, trying to capture every moment and every angle, wanting to remember them for years to come. We had been so lucky with the weather with beautiful blue skies and bright sunshine, but this of course meant things got very warm in the exposed areas although a gusty breeze did cool us down from time to time for which I was most grateful. I had been sure to keep on drinking whilst up on the tops, but my water was definitely dwindling, and it would be another few kilometres before we would reach a creek where we could refill our bottles. I was still peeing but not quite as much, so I wasn't yet too dehydrated, but I would definitely need to get some water pretty soon.

The final climb on La Coulotte Ridge

 

We had done pretty well navigating across La Coulotte Ridge. We had detoured a little bit, but a quick check on the phones put us back on track again. However, on the final climb of the ridge, we somehow veered off course quite considerably, and we hadn't seen any flags for quite some time. I was still with Tia and Dani at this stage, and all of our phones were showing we had gone too far right and started to follow another ridgeline. We tried to get ourselves back on course, not able to see any other runners or markings at all, and found ourselves cliffed out over a ravine. About a mile down at the bottom of the valley, Tia could see a Sinister Sports flag, so we bushwhacked our way down through the ravine, falling a couple of times and getting a couple of scrapes, but finally rejoining the course and being back on more solid ground. I think that was the only other point in the entire race where I had a sense of panic and uncertainty. Trying to get back on course, the arrow on my phone kept changing direction and at one point it seemed like we were going in circles. A few deep breaths certainly helped to calm that sense of foreboding, and with the team effort, things worked out OK.

Back on course after going the wrong way - phew!

 

For me it was certainly an eye opener as to how easy it was to go off course. I can't imagine what it would have been like if it had been cloudy or raining up there, and I guess we were lucky. But it also highlighted just how potentially dangerous and risky this course could be - Sinister Sports were not joking when they said you would be in remote backcountry and you must have a means of navigating the course in addition to using the tracking facility on Garmin In-Reach!

 

Now back on course again, I felt much more at ease, and we started moving pretty swiftly along some lower-level single track trails that undulated through meadows and forested areas. I couldn't see too many berries, but it didn't stop me thinking that this would be perfect bear territory, and my guard was up just in case of that unexpected bear encounter!

 

I was still running with Dani and Tia but we hadn't seen any other runners in absolutely ages. We were all by now very low on water, and despite being at lower levels, we still hadn't found a good water source for refilling bottles. The trail weaved itself downwards, we were all starting to feel somewhat fatigued from the climbing, the heat and most likely dehydration, but we were still moving well and in good spirits. 

 

After a good hour or so, we knew we must only be 5km or so from the next checkpoint, but we still needed water. A small creek crossed the trail, barely a trickle but it seemed clean enough, so we refilled bottles as best we could from the flow, making sure to filter before drinking. That fresh cold mountain water tasted so good and was so refreshing, and it seemed to spur us on. 

 

Shortly afterwards, the trail became quite boggy and wet, and then the proper river appeared - just a little too late to meet our hydration needs! The good news was though that the next checkpoint at Lynx Creek was within sight, and it was with relief that we crossed that bridge and saw other humans - the wonderful volunteers at the checkpoint with a selection of snacks and lots of water and Tailwind on tap. 

 

We took a few minutes here, restocking, refuelling, gathering our thoughts before pushing on to the next. We asked how many people were ahead as it felt like we had dropped right to the back of the field. It appeared that there were still around 30 people behind us so we were sitting around mid-pack for the race. For me that was reassuring- I tend to be a mid-packer these days so I was exactly where I expected to be. It made me happy and gave me the confidence that everything was going to plan. I also felt far more confident now that the hardest section of the course was complete - from here onwards things would get easier. How naive could I be?!

 

CP2 to CP3 – Font Creek to Beaver Mines Lake via Whistler and Table Mountains (Leg Distance 32.5km)

I had a spring in my step as we left CP3 and I think that the mood in our little group had lifted. We caught Sandra - another lady who we'd shared earlier miles with, and the four of us ran together along a forestry road for the next few miles. Our pace saw us gaining on a few other runners, and whilst we were all happy to group up and run together, we appeared to be moving more quickly and ended up going ahead.

The trail was quite undulating, so we were running the flats and the downhills, and power hiking the climbs. My walking pace was pretty fast and solid, and at times I felt I was making greater progress by just walking. My legs were feeling great, I was feeling energised, and my mind was in a great place - at the next checkpoint, we'd hit 69km, and I would finally get to see Andy and Wilson, and maybe take a nap depending how long it took to complete this leg.

 

We'd been warned once again that this leg was limited on water sources, and that we should fill our water bottles at the river when we reached approximately 15km - this would be just before the climb over two more mountain summits which looked like we would be navigating in the dark. It was taking forever to get to that point, and we chatted a lot whilst waiting for the river appear. I was certainly in great company when teaming up with these three amazing ladies! Sandra was a volunteer mountain search and rescue team member, whilst both Dani and Tia were volunteer fire fighters. I felt so inferior to them given the experience they had, yet they were such awesome, friendly, welcoming people, completely humble about the services they provide to others in their free time!

Progress was good along the flatter sections of leg 3,  and although I'd completely lost track of time - time had now become hours on feet as opposed to time of day - I knew that day 1 of The Divide 200 was coming to a close when the sky started to darken and the golden hues of the setting sun started to fill the sky. I wasn't too concerned about the night ahead - I love running at night, and each night I ran through thereafter, it became a case of just moving forwards towards the next checkpoint.

Just before reaching the river, we bumped into another runner who was running solo and it turned out to be none other than Matthew Prineus from Edmonton. I knew Matthew and he was going through a bit of a bad patch when I spoke to him, so we ran together for a short while in the hope that maybe we could help him to feel a little better. 

 

Heading up Whistler Mountain
Photo credit: Fleeting Reality Photography

Tonight's mountain summits included Whistler and Table Mountain, and whilst the climb up the former didn't appear to be as technical as the earlier ridges, it was still very steep. I'm not a very strong hill climber these days, so my plans for the climbs were to just keep moving forward steadily, no stopping, just continue a forward motion no matter how fast or slow I was. I was surprised that I was still moving well on the climbs and the others weren't pulling too far away of me. Matthew was still tucking on behind and we snapped a quick photo as the sun was setting. Unfortunately, he dropped off the pace and whilst I felt awful at leaving him behind, I selfishly didn't want to jeopardise my own race this early on by waiting around. I knew others were following, and I was relieved to hear that somebody else had waited with him when they came across him sitting at the side of the trail.

Sunset on day 1

Del and Matthew heading up Whistler Mountain

 

With nightfall, the drop in temperature became more noticeable, and having been sweating quite a bit during the day, I could now feel myself getting a little chilled. Our little group stopped partway up trail to put on extra layers - the wind had really picked up and we were about to climb to around 7000 ft on an exposed mountain top - there was no shelter from the biting wind so we made sure we were ready for the onslaught.

 

It was a good climb up Whistler Mountain, and our head torches came out as we reached the summit. It got quite rocky on the top. The trail was well marked and the flagging was much easier to spot as it reflected in the dark, but the rocky sections were becoming trip hazards and we really had to watch our footing as our head torches caused shadows that hid some of the larger rocks. It felt like the trail dropped down before climbing again, and I really wish I could have seen this section in the daylight as I'm sure the views must be amazing - instead we were treated to a clear, starlit sky, with millions of stars twinkling away above us.

I'm sure we must have ran another ridge line that connected Whistler Mountain to Table Mountain but I really couldn't see anything through the darkness. I recall there being sections where I had to cling onto the rocks to lift myself up, others where there was loose rock and my feet were slipping backwards and forwards, and then there were areas where we had solid trail beneath our feet. At one point as we reached the top of a particular section, I shone my torch to the right and it looked like a big black dark abyss - it must have been a cliff edge as I couldn't see anything down there; maybe it was a good thing it was dark - in daylight I would've been able to see the steep drop offs and I may have just suffered a little vertigo if I'd seen them properly!

 

It was so exhilarating to be up there though in the dark, and I was feeling fantastic! I was really hungry by now and I was in desperate need of something other than water or Tailwind to drink, but in the main, I was feeling good. Our little group chatted briefly about our plans at the next checkpoint - my plans called for a couple of hours break at Beaver Mines Lake, to enable me to refuel and catch a quick nap. I was still doubting my sleep strategy, but I knew for sure I needed to rest at the next checkpoint and I wasn't too concerned if everybody else pushed on. The others admitted that they were in 100 miler mode and would likely just carry on through the night until they really needed that break. 

 

Looking back, one of the things I definitely learnt at the Divide 200 was patience. There were lots of people that started much quicker than me, that ran through the night and took dirt naps rather than proper breaks, feeling a sense of urgency to keep on moving. For me, I'd built stoppage time into my race plan - I could afford to stop for a good rest at all aid stations if needed and providing I kept on moving in between, I was good with that.

 

We reached the summit of Table Mountain in the dark and were motoring towards CP3. We'd dropped Sandra again on some of the rocky ascents, but Tia, Dani and I were still together. Being a more confident downhill runner, I led the way on the steep descents, weaving once again through the trees, crossing what appeared to be a mountain meadow, and then we encountered the really steep crazy descent that would take us down to Beaver Mines Lake.

 

Oh my goodness was this steep! The trail was rocky, gravelly, sandy, wet in places and therefore slippery, and it was a definite quad buster! Strong legs were definitely needed to prevent us from falling over and even with poles helping us to stay upright, it was hard going. We were really hoping to make up some time on the downhill but it was impossible to run fast. We all slipped and fell at least twice, me bruising ankles and knees as I hit the ground and needing to take a minute to let the shock of the fall pass.

 

I knew the checkpoint was getting closer and I was getting frustrated at our slow progress, but once again patience came into play - get down safely and finish your race. No use sprinting, getting injured, and your race being over! It had been a much tougher end to this leg, taking us a good hour or more to get down a 3km stretch of mountainside, but we finally made it down the steep descent and I could hear voices in the distance. We started to run now that things had flattened out, and up ahead, the welcoming sight of the campfire came into view whilst the smell of cooking food wafted through the air. We checked in and then went our separate ways - it would be a long time before I would see Dani and Tia again!

 

Andy was of course there waiting for me, and having headed over to the car and sat down, I was overcome with a wave of nausea. Being bombarded by a range of food and drink options turned my stomach, and having already drank some protein drink and eaten half a burger, I ended up throwing up at the side if toe car. I'd had such a positive day but as soon as the sickness started, I began to worry that my race would be over if I had the usual nutritional problems in ultras.

 

Andy felt awful seeing me being sick, especially with it being so early on in my race. He tried his best to get me to eat and drink, but I knew in that moment it wasn't going to happen. We made the decision that I'd sleep first - I'd take a one hour nap, then eat before carrying on through the night. I don't recall what time of day it was, but pretty sure it was after midnight. I climbed in the back of the car which Andy had turned into a mini bedroom, snuggled up in a sleeping back, and drifted into a fitful sleep.

 

It only seemed like 5 minutes before Andy was waking me up again. I felt groggy but knew I had to move. I changed into fresh kit, changed my shoes and was now ready to eat something. I managed to eat a few things and have a good drink - it was only 23km before I'd see Andy again, then I’d take another break and eat properly. I wasn't feeling great but I was certainly feeling better, so I got myself up out of my pity pit, gave Andy and Wilson a hug, then checked out of the aid station and made my way towards the long dark road.

 

Everywhere was so quiet and I thought I was the last person leaving that checkpoint. There didn't seem to be anybody sleeping there and crew vehicles were sparse. I began to think maybe I should have just cracked on like everybody else, but then I had to trust my own race plan. The rest had done me good, and as the race progressed, this became even more apparent. But in that moment I began to doubt my strategy - Andy told me to just trust my instinct and follow the process. It was exactly what I needed to hear as I left that aid station in the early hours of that Wednesday morning. 

 

CP3 TO CP4 – Beaver Mines Lake to Syncline Group Camp, via Syncline Trail Network (Leg Distance 21km)

It must've been after midnight when I set off on the next leg from Beaver Mines Lake to Syncline Group Camp. I was still feeling a little rough but at least the vomiting had stopped and I'd managed a short nap of around 40 minutes before downing a cup of tea, a milk recovery drink, a banana and a muffin. I was certainly feeling better, but I needed to keep drinking as I was so dehydrated - unfortunately plain water and Tailwind just wasn't tickling my fancy, and the plastic flavour coming from the bottles just wasn't appealing.

CP3 to CP4 was probably the most runnable of all the legs and went on for about 23km. The route started on a dirt road that took us past the campground which was deathly quiet with being the middle of the night. Leaving the welcoming lights of the last checkpoint behind, I found myself running into the darkness with just my sole headlamp for company and guiding the way. Things had certainly cooled off somewhat, so I'd put on running tights and a thermal top although I started to get a little too warm the further I got.

I followed the road for a short while and whilst the stillness and silence of the night was quite therapeutic, it also had me getting nervous about bears. I started my usual shouting into the night, hoping to frighten away anything that might be lurking in the surrounding forests, but also extremely conscious that I didn't wake up any of the campers on the nearby campground with my yelling.

I hasn't seen anybody for a while, but then I saw the dim light of another headlamp ahead. My breathing eased a little as the anxiety about a bear encounter passed, and I felt relieved that I wasn't too far behind another person. It was then that another runner came up the road from the opposite direction. She'd been running that way for about 10 mins and hadn't seen a marker - she said we'd missed a turning and needed to backtrack, yet myself and the other lady who I'd caught, had not seen any evidence of a turn. Checking her phone for the GPX mapping, it did look as though we may have veered off course, so we made tracks into dense bush trying to find the route. It couldn't possibly be right - too much dead fall, absolutely no flags, and lots of log jumping and scratches from the undergrowth. We decided to make our way back to the road- delayed yet again by a wrong turn - and found a marker further down the road that the lady had missed. I tried not to get frustrated, but seriously, I needed to just do my own thing and trust my own sense of direction, having gone wrong twice in less than 24 hours!!

 

I knuckled down again once back on course, and before I knew it, I'd opened up quite a gap over the two following ladies and soon found myself running solo in the dark. I kept looking behind, hoping to see lights following me, but there was nothing.

The single track and bridleways started as the course veered away from the dirt road, thet rail meandering through the forest. A river crossing ensued - I think maybe the Castle River - but there was a bridge which meant dry feet for the rolling hills that followed for several miles. Other than being hungry and extremely thirsty, I was feeling pretty good, and I was able to do a mix of fast paced walking and gentle running, covering around 4 to 5 miles an hour thanks to the decent terrain. 

I will admit to being somewhat afraid running through those trees. Rustlings in the bushes, eyes shining in the light of my torch, occasional grunting sounds - all of these had me on high alert, and I resorted to singing very loudly or having nonsensical conversations with myself. I did catch a couple of other runners on this leg, some moving zombie like despite us still being quite early on in the race, but I soon passed them again - they were just moving too slowly for me.

After a while, the trail widened and the trees thinned out a little, and whilst I was more exposed to the night, it also meant I could see further ahead through the trees with my head torch. Every fallen tree I spotted, every dark bus that moved, had me thinking that some creature was about to come charging out at me - maybe there were wild animals in there watching me pass by, but I also think that my imagination was running wild that night!

The leg ended with a short section on the road into the checkpoint, but that stretch on double track trails seemed to go on forever. I really needed to eat and drink something by now - I'd eaten the food in my backpack and I was getting impatient to finish; I'd been running on my own for what felt like an eternity and I was ready for a bit of company. Finally, I arrived at a parking lot and as I made the turn towards the road, I saw the next set of welcoming lights at CP4 and broke into a run to get there.

Having checked in with the volunteers, I went to find Andy who was waiting  in the parking lot. I had a cup of tea straight away, the caffeine and sugar really helping, and followed this immediately with a protein recovery drink/ I then climbed into the back of the car and drifted off to sleep almost immediately, agreeing to have just one hour before Andy would wake me again.

The hour went by very quickly but I felt wide awake when Andy opened the door. I changed once again, freshened up with baby wipes and cleaned my teeth, then drank tea, coffee and milk, ate a muffin and a banana, and a dehydrated meal of Hungarian Ghoulash. As the sun started to rise at around 7am, I felt energised and ready to go - I was excited about the day ahead.

Breakfast time - anybody for Ghoulash?

CP4 to CP5 – Syncline Group Camp to Lynx Creek (Leg Distance 18.5km)

After leaving Synchline Group Camp, it was another 18.5km to the next checkpoint. I hadn't really studied the course in too much detail, but I knew that later today, I'd be picking up Barb as my first pacer, and by then, I'd be at around 135km. It made a huge difference to me mentally - I'd got just 45km of solo running to do, then after that, I'd have company for the remainder of the race as my awesome pacers would be with me. It made me extremely emotional just thinking about it, but as I left CP4 at 7am on Wednesday morning, I knew that barring something drastic happening at higher elevations later on, I was definitely going to finish the Divide 200 if I got to Barb safely. I've no idea how or why I was feeling so confident, so positive, so motivated, but the positive mindset gave me strength, and I kept on pushing forwards.

The first couple of miles were along the road again before making a turn and facing some lovely woodland trails, all golden with the autumn foliage and with some good stretches for running. The fear of a wildlife encounter was still there, but I could obviously see more clearly now it was daylight, and the fear was starting to subside a little.

The trail started to climb and then it became single track with switchbacks, as yet another extremely steep ascent commenced. I could hear voices ahead of me but I didn't seem to be catching them so quickly, such was the steepness of the climb. I powered on, using my poles to give me extra leverage over the steeper parts, and I was moving well.

The top of the climb soon came, as I started to pass those ahead of me as soon as I hit the downhills. The terrain was definitely bear country and there were a few berries in the area, so I was really hoping that we could stay as a group, but my pace that day was quick and I soon moved ahead, catching a few more runners as I made my way through the forest. A couple of creek crossings cooled me down as the day started to warm up, but thankfully I was now eating and drinking really well again, and the sickness I'd encountered just a few hours ago now seemed like a distant memory.

After a while, the trail widened, and up ahead was a gravel road. One of the official photographers was there snapping photos of unsuspecting runners, and she mentioned that the next checkpoint was about 3km down the road. This made me happy – I was feeling strong that day and was really enjoying the run, and whilst my legs were obviously tired from all the climbing, I was making great progress. It was another checkpoint ticked off, and it was a place where I was able to refill my bottles and grab some food.

Heading towards CP5 and Lynx Creek
Photo Credit: Fleeting Reality Photography

 Arriving at checkpoint 5, I didn’t really need to sit down, but I took a short 10 or 15 minute break which gave plenty of time to take on board some fluids. I also tucked in to some crisps, some nutty nibbles, and a bowl of fresh fruit. I was getting quite hungry and I didn’t want to eat everything I had in my backpack – the fruit hit the spot perfectly, not only providing some food in my stomach, but also the juice from melon was delicious and very refreshing, making a huge change from the taste of plain water or isotonic drinks!

 

I was really pleased to see Tia, Dani and Sandra at this aid station. I hadn’t seen any of them since I took a break on night one, and I was wondering how they were getting on. They looked a little more tired than earlier in the week and they too were taking their time, making sure they were ready for the next section which would take us up onto Willoughby Ridge. They left a good few minutes before me, running off into the distance up the gravel road that would eventually take us to the ridge, whilst I finished off my bowl of fruit and prepared myself for the next section of the course which would encompass even more climbing!

 

CP5 to CP6 – Lynx Creek to York Creek Staging Area, via Willoughby Ridge on Great Divide Trail (Leg Distance 26.5km)

Feeling revived having consumed a decent amount of calories at the aid station, I set off on my own up the gravel road towards Willoughby Ridge. The climb was long and steep and I surprised myself at how good I was feeling, my legs strong and powering up that hill! I overtook a couple of other racers on the climb, leaving them behind as I move solidly forward, engrossed in my surroundings and thoroughly enjoying the already impressive views from lower in the valley. With just 27km separating me between now and seeing Andy, Wilson, and picking up Barb as my pacer, it was making a huge difference to me and my mindset. I can honestly say that at no point since I had started the race was there any doubt that I wouldn’t finish, and knowing that from the next checkpoint onwards, I would always have some company to keep me moving, I was even more confident that I would be crossing that finish line. What I still wasn’t sure about was exactly how long it would take me – I hadn’t put a time limit on anything, my mantra was forward moving progress, and even when climbs were steep or descents were treacherous, I just kept reminding myself that there was no unnecessary stopping allowed, and I just needed to keep moving forwards, no matter how slow I was moving. But today I was moving exceptionally well, I was happy and feeling so positive, and I almost whizzed up those climbs although in reality I’m pretty sure I must have looked like an out of breath hippo going up that mountainside.

After the climb up the gravel road, the course veered right and we were greeted by a long drawn out, steep rocky climb that would take us up to the ridge. I recall overtaking another runner here as I pushed onwards, my legs complaining once again whilst my mind was telling them to shut up and get the job done. As I came to the crest of the climb, the view was incredible with mountain peaks stretching off in to the distance in all directions. It was so quiet up there albeit it quite breezy, and I was wowed yet again by the beauty of this course.

 

The skies by now had clouded over, and in the distance, the clouds looked ominous as what looked to be storm clouds rolled in. It got a little chilly up there even though I was still moving really well, and I stopped to put on extra layers. The next few miles along the ridge followed a pretty good trail with some rocky sections, but in general the footing was really good. It wasn’t entirely flat, but I was running – or at least jogging – much more that I had been doing the previous day. The trail crossed back and forth over the ridge, and I could see the route we would be following for quite a few miles ahead – some sections provided shelter in trees or from surrounding bushes at the side of the trail, whilst others were quite exposed and you could see the slopes of the mountainside covered in sporadic trees and boulders.

Willoughby Ridge

 

Willoughby Ridge - solo running

It wasn’t long until I saw Dani, Tia and Sandra ahead of me, and I was very surprised that I had indeed caught them, especially given how long the previous climb had been. We had a little chat, asked each other how we were all doing, but then we got into our own rhythm with our heads down and I found myself leading our little group, looking around every so often to make sure we were still all together. It was becoming clear to me that I was having a far better day that day, and I started to open a bit of a gap over my new running friends. I really didn’t want to leave them – I was still nervous about running in to big furry critters more than anything – but at the same time, I wanted to take advantage of the current strength I was feeling, so I continued with my aggressive pace and made exceptionally good progress across Willoughby Ridge.

 

I didn’t see anybody else for hours after that – in fact, my next human encounter came when I ran into CP6 and met up with Andy and Wilson, and of course Barb. Prior to that, I ran several miles solo, the heat of the day really building up as the afternoon wore on, and me trying to eat and drink as much as possible to keep my energy levels going. As I started my descent off the ridge, the trail got crazy steep again, and despite trail shoes with a hefty grip, I was still slipping and sliding on my way down. The trail twisted and turned as if it were a mountain bike trail, and it seemed to go on for ages, relentlessly trashing my quads as I tried to hold back and not get thrown forwards by the steep gradient.

As I reached the lower elevations, the trail turned from rocks and boulders to rocky, sandy stretches and it became even more difficult to maintain my grip and stay upright on such a steep gradient. Deep trenches from water run off had me jumping from side to side, and as I started to move into more shrubby and treed areas, the paranoia about a potential bear encounter returned.

I finally reached the flatter sections of the trail which now meandered through scrub land, small clumps of trees sporadically lining the trail which gave coverage for any wildlife that might happen to be there. I was starting to feel vulnerable - I felt very exposed to any wildlife without anywhere to hide or indeed run if needed. I kept singing and talking to myself, shouting out occasionally to keep wildlife at bay, checking that my bear spray was close to hand.

The trail was now more like sandy gravel that and it was bone dry and very dusty. I could see runners footprints in the sand, and whilst there was nobody insight of me, it was at least reassuring to know that others had passed through here before me in the past couple of hours and they had obviously not had any issues. As I focused on the ground in front of me, I spotted  a few deer prints in the sand, and then something that sent a rush of adrenaline through me - I saw what looked to be cat prints crossing the trail several times. They definitely weren't bear, nor anything that looked canine, they were too rounded and had no claw marks. All I could think of was Lynx, bobcat, or even worse, cougar. I started to listen more carefully, became even more aware of my surroundings, but other than the wind blowing through the  trees, my own breathing, and the sound of heartbeat, there was silence. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not - it seemed like I truly was the only living thing out here, perfect prey if there was a big cat around. I picked up the pace a little as a slight panic starting to kick in. I checked the map on my phone and seeing that the trail came out at a road, I knew I'd feel much better once I reached that road. I grabbed a quick drink, had something quickly to eat, then just made my way downwards, hoping to goodness I didn't see anything. Sudden movement to my right made me jump, but it was just grouse or some other birds nesting, and I undoubtedly startled them just as much as they did me.

Thankfully, I made it to the road without incident, but speaking to other runners after the race, there were a couple who'd said they'd thought they'd spotted a cougar in that exact same spot in the early hours of that same day - I hadn't even mentioned my suspicions but now I'm convinced that I was very likely being watched when I ran that section, which in hindsight is a scary thought!

Making it to the road certainly filled me with relief - just another couple of hours to the York Creek Staging Area where I'd see Andy and Wilson, and of course Barb. A wave of emotion came over me again - relief that after this leg, I wouldn't be alone, and that it truly would be a team effort getting through each leg safely, each step taking us one step closer to the finish.

I crossed the road then joined the main forestry road that would take me in the direction of the next aid station. Dense forest once again bordered the road side, and with no sight nor sound of a single person, the conversations with myself commenced gain, talking complete gibberish and nonsense, but hoping it would keep me safe.

My stomach was starting to growl and I was getting hungry again. I'd drank pretty much all my water and I'd not got a great deal left in my backpack so I was really hoping the next checkpoint came soon! Whilst mulling over what I'd really, really love to eat at that moment in time, I got the fright of my life when out of the corner of my eye, I saw two black coloured animals come hurtling out of the bushes. The noise indicated they were big animals, and my heart came into my mouth as I let out a scream and went to grab the bear spray. Relief flooded through me when I saw it was just a cow and her calf rather than bear and cub - could be just as dangerous, but unlikely on this occasion. The rush of adrenaline made me feel terribly tired but I pushed on, making good progress up and down the hills, and before I knew it, I was making my way up the final steep climb through the woods, making a right turn, and running down to CP6. It was mid-afternoon I think. I was hot, hungry, thirsty and tired, my legs were certainly feeling it today, and yet I was still feeling so positive - my mind and body were in the right place, and I knew then that I was going to get this done.

I ran into the checkpoint all smiles, Andy, Wilson and Barb all there to greet me. I think I ate a huge bowl of meatballs and drank lots of cola, ate a banana and a blueberry muffin, drank a protein recovery drink and a hot cup of tea, before settling down in the back of the car for my one hour snooze. Being daylight and being so warm, I found it difficult to drift off to sleep. Kids were running around screaming, there was lots of activity, cars driving to and fro, dogs barking, plus it was mid-afternoon and very warm to be sleeping in the car. Leaving the windows open meant it was very windy and cool, but with them closed it was just too hot.

I certainly didn't have the best sleep at CP6 and I awoke earlier than planned, my brain just unable to switch off. I was already ahead of my schedule, but rather than hanging around just for the sake of it, I wanted to get going.

I changed my clothes and wiped myself down, ate more food before cleaning my teeth and then I was ready to go. Barb had been patiently waiting for me and now it was her turn to shine, to guide and accompany me for the next 66km over Racehorse Pass to Window Lake, along the Hardrock Trail, and back to the point at which we were starting. We'd be running through the night, potentially for a good 15 hours or more - she was up for it, and my oh my, was I glad Barb was there with me. In her company, I would pass the half way point and when we returned, I would only have around 65 miles to go.  One checkpoint at a time, forward motion with no unnecessary stopping - we were ready to tackle this together. A quick photo, and then we were off.

The amazing Barb!

CP6 to CP7 – York Creek Staging Area to Racehorse Pass, via Coleman and McGillivray Creek to Spoon Valley and Racehorse Pass (Leg Distance 30.5km)

It was around 7pm I think when Barb and I left the checkpoint, and it felt so different knowing I'd have somebody with me from her onwards. Barb had such positive energy, and with her terrible jokes every half (seriously, they were bad!!), it really helped to pass the time as we ran through the night.

The leg started through town with a couple of miles on road, but then we hit the trail system, and spent the best part of an hour running up and down beautiful single track trails. The sun was starting to go down, so out came the headtorches, and we just hoped there would be enough power in them to get us through a long night on mountain trails.

The day had been really warm and even hot at times, but as the sun went down, I certainly needed those extra layers as I started to feel the chill a little more. 

Barb was a great pacer, and she set a quick pace that was perfect for keeping me moving at a decent clip. She was in her element and it made me happy knowing she was happy. We came into a clearing in the trees, and the surrounding mountains looked so majestic against the darkening skies.

Night time arrives on day 2

A couple of miles into the forest, we encountered our first crazy climb - a climb that was so steep it was almost vertical, and I found it really difficult to get a grip on this huge, sandy hill. My legs weren't achy at the time but they were obviously starting to feel all of the climbing, and I couldn't quite find enough power nor strength to get me up some of the more steep, sandy sections. Thankfully we only needed to go up the sandy bit - the downhill was back to more stable footing, and we were able to make decent progress on the downhills for once.

I should point out that a lot of the race involved power-hiking the ups, and running the flats and the downhills where possible. Some of the downhills were incredibly steep and unrunnable, especially in the dark. Progress was sometimes felt terribly slow which I was finding very frustrating, particularly as downhill running is usually my strength and I wasn't able to take advantage of it due to the terrain. 

 

The next few miles were really nice even in the dark, weaving on forestry roads amongst the trees, our headlamps clearly lighting the way and making the way markers and flags much easier to see than during the daylight. There were some incredibly muddy sections with huge puddles but we managed to stay dry for once. We hadn’t seen any other runners for what seemed like hours, but Barb and I were happy to run in companionable silence, or to share stories and jokes when we felt the urge. I was feeling really good all things considered, and Barb was making sure that I was eating and drinking to keep the energy levels up, frequently offering me gummy bears and me not refusing!

 

The trail by now had become more like ATV trail again although not as rocky as previous sections of the course, and the climbs were starting to get ridiculous. They weren’t long climbs, but my goodness they were steep, and they went up and down, up and down, up and down. I had the sense that we must be doing some sort of loop around these woods, but I had completely lost my sense of direction, and didn’t really have any idea where I was in relation to everything else. Sometimes we would make a turn and we both felt like we had already been that way, and it really did feel as though we were going around in circles. At one point, we noted just how quiet and dark everything was – not a single sound in the night, except for our own chatter and footsteps on the trail. We turned off our headtorches for a minute or two and stood there looking up at the night sky through the trees, mesmerised by the sheer enormity of the universe and the billions of stars up there, whilst the silence was almost deafening. As we switched on our headtorches again, we could see our breath in the light as the night air cooled quite considerably, and we both put on some extra warm layers as things started to cool down. I’d accidentally left my gloves back at the aid station with Andy and my hands were freezing cold, and even my core was feeling the chill despite wearing 3 additional layers. We were moving at a decent pace too, but I was still feeling a bit cold and just couldn’t seem to warm up that particular night.

 

As we continued our journey through those woods, we finally saw other runners ahead, their headtorches brightening things up in the dark, and shortly afterwards, we caught them up. It was Sandra and her pacer, we spoke briefly and asked each other how things were going. She mentioned that Dani had thought I was angry with them the previous day when I moved ahead on Willoughby Ridge which of course was not the case. I didn’t want Sandra thinking I was annoyed at her, so we ran with her for a  a couple of km until she told us to go ahead and not feel bad about it. Barb and I did as we were told, moving ahead with relative ease as the lights of the other runners disappeared into the distance behind us.

 

By now, I was wondering where the heck the aid station was. Checking my phone, it looked like it was only a mile or so away, but a good 20 minutes to half an hour later, there still was no sight nor sound of it. We thought we could hear speakers in the distance but it was just our hopeful imagination, and the endless ups and downs continued. Thankfully, both Barb and I were still in very good spirits and positivity was emanating from both of us. We laughed and joked and chatted away, and then we saw a vehicle coming down the wide trail towards us.  It turned out to be race volunteers dropping off supplies at the aid station, and they told us it was just another couple of km – they weren’t wrong, and when we saw the warm glow from the tent and flicker of the campfire, we speeded up to get inside for a warm and something to drink.

 

Racehorse Pass aid station was remote and unfortunately they didn’t really have anything warm they could give to us – at least not that I recall. A hot chocolate at that point would have been perfect but alas, there was none. I did refill my bottles to make sure I had sufficient fluids to carry me through the remainder of the night, and although I still had some food to eat in my backpack, I wanted to save that just in case I needed it over the next few hours. The lovely volunteers offered me a banana and Nutella wrap in a naan bread, and it tasted delicious washed down with a cup of coke. I was hoping to stay at the checkpoint a little longer so we could warm up a bit, but there were already several runners sitting huddled around the fire pit, wrapped in foil blankets for extra warmth. One of them was Dani, and I gave her a huge hug, telling her I wasn’t mad the previous day and had just been feeling good so pushed on. Thankfully, she seemed relieved!

Having spent just 10 or 15 minutes at the aid station, I wasn't warming up very much at all, and knowing we still had 22km to CP8, I decided it was time to leave. Making sure both Barb and I had everything we needed, we bid farewell to the volunteers and made our way towards the long rocky road that would take us over the pass.

CP7 to CP8 - Racehorse Pass to Atlas Road, via Window Mountain Lake and High Rock Rail, right below continental divide (Leg Distance 22km)

Having seen photos of this area, Racehorse Pass and Window Mountain Lake was another part of the course that I really would love to have done in daylight but unfortunately it was the middle of the night for us and we missed what would no doubt have been incredible views.

As we left the warmth of the aid station behind us, we really noticed the chilly breeze and cool air as we started to climb again. The skies above were so clear, and we spotted the Big Dipper and Orion's Belt in the night sky, whilst the dark shadows of the mountains were barely visible due to just how dark things were. We were following a rocky trail up the mountain and from what I could make out, it looked to be another good climb from here, although the current trail didn't seem too bad. My feet were feeling a little bruised from the rocky terrain and occasionally I'd have a little wobble on my legs - likely fatigue from the miles and climbs in my legs, coupled with a lack of sleep. In the distance - far into the distance- we could see the lights from other runners ahead of us, making their way to the top of the climb before veering off the main trail and disappearing completely from view. 

As we moved silently up the trail, we spotted a couple of runners to the side, one of them taking a nap against a bench built from rocks. It didn't look particularly comfortable, but then I knew how they felt - I could quite happily have fallen asleep anywhere that night, but I was being quite disciplined in my approach and was only allowing naps at checkpoints with Andy.

Barb and I were just getting into the groove and maintaining a decent steady pace on the climb, but then we noticed the course flagging leading us off to the left - a short downhill for a little reprieve, but then a terribly steep and almost sheer climb. Barb was moving like a Mountain Goat, making light work of the technical sections and the steep climbs. Meanwhile, I found the extreme gradient tough at this point, and as I tried to climb up the tufty grass and moss covered slippery rocks, my feet slipped back several times and I just couldn't get a proper grip to climb the hill. I was digging my poles in as far as possible to get some leverage, but I was almost toppling over backwards, not quite having the full strength to propel myself upwards and I was starting to sweat again effort.

This tough climb lasted for about a mile before we reached the forests and commenced a long, steep, rocky and slippery technical downhill, encountering yet more lose rock as the switchback took us down yet another crazy decent. The downhills were starting to take their toll on tired legs and I slipped a few times, almost tumbling down the hill. A couple of other runners were just ahead and despite the darkness, I could tell that there weren't any sheer drops from how the runners were moving.

My frustrations started to resurface again at the slow progress on the downhill. I was so used to blasting down the hills, but running recklessly on this course would be suicide and I had no choice but to hold back and resist the urge to just go for it. The trail finally flattened out and I heard water with what seemed like waves lapping at the shoreline. I couldn't make out if it was a river or lake but as we wound our way through some low hanging trees, I saw what I think was a campground sign - Window Mountain Lake. Of course! I'd forgotten we passed this lake, but then I'd only seen photos in taken during the daylight and nothing was recognisable as we continued making progress through the night.

I'm not really sure where the other runners disappeared to. We overtook them shortly after the lake before the next set of rolling hills started, and when checking behind us, there was nothing but darkness and no signs of life. Not for the first time in the past several hours, I felt truly grateful to have Barb with me. She was certainly keeping me moving, we were still chatting and laughing, and if I started to complain about something, she made sure I didn't dwell on things but rather focused on the here and now, and getting through to the next aid station.

There was more climbing to be done that took us across ridges and through forests, there were more descents that had us slipping and sliding and struggling to grip due to lose rock and sand, but as the dawn started to arrive and the sky turned from midnight blue to the pastel colours of morning light, we came out into the opening with alpine meadow around us. I think this was the Highrock Trail but I wasn't entirely sure, and I broke into song as the views reminded of the scene from "The Sound of Music" as they crossed the mountain pass bordering Austria, and "The Hills are Alive" burst forth as I started to sing - sing very badly!! The majestic mountains looking amazing against the morning light, and it made a huge difference knowing that daylight was coming and we'd only a few hours until we completed this leg.

Sunrise is coming!

Beautiful but chilly morning on Highrock Trail

The next checkpoint at Atlas Road was taking forever to get to! I kept checking the map to see how much further, but we just seemed to be turning left, right, and centre for ages. It was really starting to piss me off - we seemed to go one way, only to double back on ourselves, and the flagging took us up steps and steep hill what a flat alternative to the same  point was clearly available. I started to swear to myself whilst Barb just calmly listened to my ranting and smiled, which made me realise that I was just being ridiculous!

A few more twists and turns and running around a remote parking lot, and finally the aid station appeared. I was craving salt and needed a good drink, and all I'd been thinking of for the past couple of hours was scoffing a bag of salt and vinegar crisps at the first opportunity. When I saw the crisps at that aid station, I ate them like there was no tomorrow, the vinegar in them making my mouth and tongue so sore and tender for the next few days, but my goodness, they has tasted so good! I took on board some coke and water, and after thanking the volunteers, we continued on our merry way.

CP8 to CP9 – Atlas Road to York Creek Staging Area (Leg Distance 13.5km)

Heading back towards York Creek Staging area, we followed steep rolling hills through lush green fields where a herd of cows was blocking the trail. Barb isn't a fan of cows, and at one point I pranked her, pretending cows were starting to chase us as we passed. The look on her face was hilarious to meand thankfully Barb took it in good humour too - it certainly woke me up having a jolly good belly laugh!

Coming back into town for the final stretch to CP9, we started to encounter more people, and they all offered words of encouragement as we passed. I was starving by now, and when the passersby mentioned there were burgers at York Creek, I started salivating- a half pound burger it was - I was so flipping hungry. After such a long night, it felt great to be running back through town and even the final climb up the road to the checkpoint was a welcome sight. It was starting to get really warm again by now, and I was looking forward to food and a good drink, and some sleep. 

Almost 16 hours after leaving York Creek Staging Area and CP6, Barb and I arrived back at where we started, but this time in was CP9. We'd covered approximately 66km together, and goodness knows how much elevation! Thankfully we hadn't fallen on any of those crazy descents - I had some scratches from the branches of fallen trees, but otherwise I wasn't too worse for wear. My legs were feeling tired and a little sore but I knew a snooze in the back of the car would help. Andy was there waiting for me with Wilson, and I was so happy to see them. I grabbed the half pound burgers I'd promised myself, throwing on tons of mustard and ketchup, had a HUGE cup of tea, and then snuggled down for rest, sleeping soundly for just shy of an hour before waking up and getting myself prepared for the next leg of the course. 

Barb had done a brilliant job as a pacer and I truly can't thank her enough. She kept me entertained, made sure I stayed focused in the moment, and her own speed, strength and agility on those mountain trails were just what I needed. I was now at around 200km and over two thirds of the way to the finish - considering the miles, the climbs, and the minimal sleep, I was surprised at how good I was actually feeling. I gave Barb a hug - how can I ever repay her, when thank you just doesn't seem enough - and she handed me over to Shane who would now accompany me for the next 39km from CP9 to CP10 - I was ready to go!

CP9 to CP10 - York Creek Staging Area to Lost Creek Cabin, eerie burn scar of 2003 Lost Creek Fire (Leg Distance 39km)

What can I say about Shane, except that he too was simply amazing! He was meant to have been pacing somebody else at the race but they’d unfortunately had to back out, so Shane stepped in to help me out at the last minute which I truly appreciated!!

Hello Shane!

Whilst I'm good friends with Barb, Shane was somebody I didn't really know, and I was a little apprehensive about spending a good few hours on the trails with a stranger. What I didn’t realise was that I'd met Shane before, and he was actually the mystery runner I’d referred to in my Canadian Death Race blog post who had kept me company to the Ambler Loop following my nonstop vomiting!

From the moment I left York Creek Staging Area for a second time, I felt comfortable in Shane's company. There was something about his calm and friendly demeanor that I really liked, and I knew instantly I’d have nothing to worry about over the coming miles. For the entire time we spent together out on the trail, he was regularly reminding me to eat or drink, he was offering encouragement at the right times, and I could understand why somebody else had first dibs for his pacing duties!

I was still a good couple of hours ahead of schedule when leaving CP9, and we were once again running during the heat of the day. I'd been very surprised to see a couple of other friends at CP9 – I’d thought they were hours ahead of me but I felt like I must have been having a good day to have seen them when I did. The hour’s sleep and fill of food and drink had worked wonders, and I was starting to run a little bit more, moving at a solid 13 minute mile, give or take.

The first couple of miles took us through pine forests and as we were busy chatting away, we missed one of the turns. Shane was most apologetic but at least we'd noticed before going too far - it was ok. On retracing our steps and finding the correct route, another chap came along the trail and he kind of hung off the back of us. He didn't have a pacer and was running solo, and he appeared to be in pain with his feet. He asked if he could join us for a while, and of course we said yes.

Cameron had travelled in from BC and yet again, I had already met him although I hadn't realised. Andy and I had chatter to Cameron and his dad a the pre-race meal earlier in the week, and he remembered me because of Wilson - Wilson also being his last name. He was a lovely chap, a strong runner, and we shared lots of stories over the next few hours whilst making our way through that eerie burn scar of the Lost Creek Fire.

That eerie burn scar with Del, Cameron and Shane

The route towards Lost Creek Cabin was one of the easier legs - mainly flat and really good going with just a few gentle climbs, although there were a couple of toughies later on. I was very surprised when we caught and passed other runners, moving ahead with relative ease and making up quite a bit of distance over them as we pressed on. There were also tons of cows along the trail, and we were made to negotiate with them when they stubbornly refused to move a couple of times - thankfully we all passed without incident, the cows just giving us indignant looks as we passed by. 

Splendid views out there again!

It was another scorcher of a day for the time of year, so I was drinking lots and getting through my water supply very quickly. Shane was making sure I was drinking regularly and when getting low on water, he kindly climbed down to the river banks to refill bottles for us numerous times.

I'd made it clear to Shane that I didn't want to know how far we'd gone nor how far we had to go before the next checkpoint. One of the things that was affecting me mentally was the frustration at how long it was taking to do just a few miles when normally I could run that far in an hour. I was wasting too much emotional energy getting worked up about it, and I needed to let it go. I was quite disciplined with myself on this leg and didn't look at my watch nor the map on my phone at any point over that 39km. I just put my trust in Shane that he would do his thing and just keep us preoccupied and moving forwards until we made it to Lost Creek Cabin. 

When we reached the climbs, they were long and steep - admittedly not as bad as previous days, but enough to sap some of those energy reserves. I just kept my head down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and then when we hit the downhills, I started to run again although it felt like I had no coordination and my arms and legs were flaying all over the place.

Although today was an easier day in comparison, I was reminded that I had by now covered well over 100 miles on some considerably hilly terrain with very little sleep. Under normal circumstances, I would have covered 39km much more quickly, but I had anticipated it taking me something like 10 hours if all went well. Although we has set off shortly after lunch, it was inevitable that we would be running in the dark, and as the sun started to go down on the third night at the Divide 200, things got chilly again. Not surprisingly, my stomach was nagging for food gain - considering the vomiting way back on day 1, my appetite was back with a vengeance, and I couldn't seem to keep up with the calories I was burning. I was running low on snacks, but then I remembered the stash of Jaffa Cakes in my backpack and happily munched through a few of them.

As darkness set in, out came headtorches again. I don't know why, but I was using the Black Diamond rather than the Fenix, and it was driving me nuts! It had light sensitivity built in, so every time either Shane or Cameron came up behind me, my light dimmed and I couldn't see a bloody thing. I stubbed my toes a couple times causing pain to see through a couple of blisters that were forming.

I couldn't have asked for better company on this leg than the two chaps I was with. Our chatter and banter, our serious conversations about mental health pressures in sport, and just general "getting to know you" kind of stuff really helped to pass the time. I had no idea how long we'd been going, but at some point, Shane announced that according to his watch, we only had about an hour to go until we finished the leg. I couldn't believe it. We'd been making great progress and it looked like we'd arrive earlier that I had expected - we were around 90 minutes quicker than I had thought we would be.

The last few miles to CP10 were on a wide slightly rocky trail, and it appeared to be a gradual downhill. I'd ran far more on this leg, and I tried to run in the closing stages although the crappy light from my headtorch was making it tough. We were looking out for the lights from the aid station, but it was just darkness all around us, and we couldn't even hear music, voices, cars, or anything. We'd not seen anybody else for ages now either, and for the first time, I think we were all getting frustrated.

As we came down the hill, things started to get misty and even more chilly, and I could feel it on my chest. My voice was starting to go hoarse, and every time I coughed, it felt like I'd been smoked 20 cigarettes. It turned out that I wasn't alone when encountering the hoarseness and chestiness - several other runners were also coughing like smokers, and our voices and chests sounded terrible! 

It took over an hour as things turned out to be further than we had though, but we finally spotted the welcoming lights of the aid station just ahead. But this leg had a sting in the tale - flagging took us down to the river bank and it was clear we needed to wade across the river. The water was deep, fast flowing in parts, and it was rocky and slippery underfoot. It was also absolutely freezing cold! I couldn't see any rocks that we could use as stepping stones to get across, and with no other choice, I just waded through the calf deep water which chilled me to the bone. A bit of running through long grass and then yet again, we dropped down to the river, soaking our feet even more and feeling even more chilling. Only then were we greeted by quiet applause and a few cheers as we finally arrived at CP10.

Unfortunately Andy and my next pacer Tyson hadn't yet arrived, so we headed to the heat tent in an attempt to get warm. A propane fire pit relieved some of the chill, but with wet feet and no additional layers or dry clothes to change into, I was finding it difficult to get warm. Shane was an absolute star at this point. He went and grabbed me some food which I think was broth and some meatballs, along with quite possibly a coffee. I felt so sorry for him though. He looked cold, tired and ready for bed, but with Andy having his warm gear and being his ride back to the hotel, he had to wait around. I felt terribly guilty, but he was such a gentleman and didn't complain at all.

When Andy did arrive, he brought Wilson over and I enjoyed some extra puppy snuggles whilst Andy tried to get things ready for the next leg. Everything felt extremely disorganised, and it was stressing me out a bit. It wasn't Andy's fault, but with having to maul everything over from the car, there was a lot of waiting around whilst he went backwards and forwards getting things for me. I also needed to sleep, but I knew that that would delay Shane being able to get warmed up and back to his hotel, so I decided to use the sleep station provided by the race organisers rather than our car - at least Shane could then get warmed up in the car whilst Andy tended to my needs. 

Being indoors, I was hoping to get warm in the sleep station but it was the most uncomfortable sleep I'd had so far, and I was lucky if I even got 30 mins. The door opened and closed as people came and went, and it was freezing cold in there, the blankets provided being much too small and did very little to warm up my shivering body. Cameron was also in there trying to catch some sleep, but it just wasn't happening for either of us. We were also both coughing like crazy now hindering our chances of sleep, and in the end, we just gave up.

Andy came in with a change of clothes for me and a hot drink. The drink really helped and I could feel myself slowly warming up, and my feet were starting to get some feeling in them again having changed in to dry socks and shoes. With not being able to sleep, I saw no point in hanging around so I told Andy to ask Tyson if he was ready to go, and if so, we'd just head off.

Tyson was ready, he was eager to get going, so having restocked my backpack and changed into fresh and warmer clothes, I too was ready to go. Cameron was going to join us again which made me happy, and we now had 37km between us and checkpoint 12.

Shane was still waiting in the warming tent and I really don't feel like I had the opportunity to thank him properly. In fact, it felt like I'd abandoned him that night, but in reality I knew Andy was making sure he got back safely. Maybe one day, our paths would cross again and I could say thanks for everything properly. For now though I had approximately 80km to the finish line - I had a job to do!

CP10 to CP11 - Lost Creek Cabin to North Kootenay Pass over continental divide into Flathead Valley, BC (Leg Distance 21km)

The next leg would take me up the North Kootenay Pass over the Continental Divide and into BC. I would love to have done this in daylight too as the views looked amazing from the photos I had seen, but my pacing and timing meant that we only got to see things through the beam of a headtorch.  

Talking of pacing, my pacer for this stretch was Tyson, and he meant business! His long and confident stride meant we maintained a really good pace when trying to keep up, and we covered ground much more quickly than I was expecting.  I’m not sure Tyson would appreciate being called a really nice chap, so let’s just say he was really cool dude - quiet in his approach, extremely focused, but happy to share stories of his climbing adventures when we had enough breath to ask him about them.

The trail heading to the pass was very similar to the one we'd covered earlier - several bridges that crossed the river before following a dirt/gravel double track trail with a couple of inclines, but not what I would describe as hilly. My legs were feeling much better than I had expected despite such a short rest and I put it down to all the food and drink at the last aid station. The lack of sleep was now making me a little light headed which made me feel dizzy as we ran through the dark. I wasn’t too concerned as I knew it was likely the sleep deprivation more than anything, but having been warned by a volunteer to take care on the other side of the pass, I was hoping there weren't any sketchy sections where I needed to rely on my balance to stay safe!

We made decent progress over the first few miles, passing a few other runners in the process and gaining distance on them as we pushed on. The shadows of the surrounding mountains towered above us whilst the clear night sky was once again awash with stars. We ran in comfortable silence, only chatting occasionally, and I discovered that Tyson wasn’t a complete stranger as I’d originally thought – I had in fact met and spoken to him at Death Race this year when we were both going through a bad patch, and we had both offered words of encouragement to each other that day.  I’ve a terrible memory for names and faces but I guess I really must try harder to remember people in races - I felt terribly rude again not realising that not only had not remembered Shane or even Wilson, but now Tyson too!

The main climb started up towards North Kootenay Pass and the trail became muddy in places whilst the short switchbacks took us gently upwards. There really wasn’t anything to see through the darkness, so I focused on the back of Tyson’s shoes reflecting in the beam of my torch a few steps ahead of me, matching his footsteps stride for stride as Cameron followed behind. The forest like trail became even more rocky as we climbed, the trail widening the higher we got and turning more to lose rock not only beneath our feet, but also on the surrounding slopes. The temperature was also dropping quite considerably and a cooling breeze had started to pick up. I had been sweating but now I was starting to shiver a little, and I was just hoping that I had enough clothing with me to keep me warm through the night. 

Having seen photos of this section, I would really love to have seen things in the daylight, but I had to be content running through the night. I was still having fun and I was still in a very good head space, but I was definitely craving sleep which I knew wouldn’t come for a few more hours just yet. The incline of the trail got a little steeper and I had a sense that the mountain slopes were now much closer – it was then that Tyson informed us that we had reach the summit of the pass we were about to cross over into BC. There is a trail marker somewhere up there but I couldn’t see it in the dark. We did stop for a group photo up there on the Continental Divide and I think it’s safe to say that we were glad the climbing was over and we were now heading downwards to the next checkpoint.

North Kootenay Pass and the Continental Divide
Del, Tyson and Cameron

The trail flattened a little at the top – maybe for a kilometer or so – and it felt good to run and stretch out the legs a little, even if it was slow and clumsy. We made our way over a short, rocky incline, and then the descent started. My oh my – this was STEEP! My mind went back to the volunteer at the last checkpoint …. “it’s a bit of a climb up the pass – just be careful on the way down once you get to the other side.” Those words had stuck with me and I envisioned a treacherous downhill scramble that would see us trying to avoid tumbling over a cliff edge as we made our way down the mountainside in the dark. It wasn’t quite as bad as that, but we did encounter more very lose rock, gravelly rock, dusty sandy rock – the kind of rock where you have absolutely no grip, and your feet and legs just go. I felt like I was leaning backwards to avoid falling forwards, my tired legs tensing up and trying their best to support by body weight and keep me upright. I couldn’t really see how steep this was nor how far down it went, but the light of my headtorch showed that it was a good way down and one wouldn’t want to fall. There were a few boulders that would hurt if sliding into them, and I seem to remember small bushes alongside the trail which I tried to grab onto whenever I felt myself starting to slide. I’m not even sure how I managed to avoid falling, and I still can’t decide if using my poles were a help or a hindrance, but after about 20 mins of making our way down that hill, we veered into the trees again, still following single track, steep downhills which made it unrunnable, but at least now there was more to stop us from freefalling down a mountainside!

By now, Cameron was starting to lag behind a little – it wasn’t that he couldn’t keep the pace, but his feet were just so sore. It’s not for me to tell his story, but that river crossing earlier had done him no favours and he appeared to be struggling and in lost of discomfort. He never once complained though, and tried to keep with us as best he could.

We had now come off the steeper slopes and had joined a wide, rocky, tree lined ridge that was a gradual downhill. I had tried desperately not to look at the map on my phone, but a sneaky peek indicated that we were getting very close to the next checkpoint at Middle Kootenay Pass. I’d like to say that it gave me a surge of energy – sadly it didn’t, but we kept the momentum going and concentrated on just getting to the next checkpoint. I was feeling much colder again now – we later found out that the temperature had dropped to around -4C that night, and although I was wearing multiple layers, I wasn’t as warm as I would have liked. My lips were also getting extremely sore too, and the inside of my mouth and my tongue were tingling like crazy – whether this was due to the cold, too much salt, or lack of proper nutrients for the past couple of days I don’t know, but I was having to put water around my mouth to ease the discomfort I was feeling.

That last couple of kilometers into CP11 seemed to last forever, but finally we saw the welcoming lights of the tent and the cheers from the awesome volunteers as they saw three bright lights emerging from the darkness. I was getting hungry and I tried to nibble on some food, but more importantly, I needed fluids and refilled my bottles with a mix of Tailwind and water.  A couple of other runners were in the tent, one of them fast asleep beside the fire pit. I sat down, mainly to take advantage of the hot coffee that was available here. There was no sugar and it was black, but my goodness, it tasted so good and it sure warmed up my insides. 

I really didn’t want to dilly dally too much at the mid-way checkpoints – it would be far too easy to get too comfortable and then not want to move. I’d made a vow to myself that these midpoint ones were only for brief stops and not to sleep – no unnecessary stopping, always forward progress, and that included stopping at checkpoints. I think we were here for maybe 10 or 15 minutes, but time had by now become meaningless – I knew when I was ready to depart, and so did Tyson. Unfortunately, Cameron wasn’t quite ready and I really didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary just hanging around. I gave Tyson a knowing look, and we left the aid station – that was the last I saw of Cameron during the race. He did cross the finish line a mere 3 or 4 hours later than me, and we caught up again after the race at the post-race dinner. He didn’t hold a grudge, and he completely understood my wanting to leave that checkpoint that night – I had my own race to run!

CP11 to CP12 - North Kootenay to Harvey Creek via Flathead Valley (Leg distance 15.5km)

It was still dark when Tyson and I left CP11, but the sky was getting lighter to the east, and it wouldn’t be too long before the sun would be rising. It was still really chilly and it took a couple of miles before I started to warm up again. There were a few more runners about at this point, but my mix of running and faster paced walked meant that we once again opened a gap, and before long, it was just Tyson and I heading along that gravel road. We’d been told that this road was mostly downhill but in actual fact, there were far more uphills than I had anticipated. I was hoping to make up some time by running the downhills, but the road dragged on forever with minimal downs, and I was getting more and more frustrated.

I knew that we had close to 10 miles until the next aid station – normally that would only be about 90 minutes of running even on a bad day, but given that I now had 170 miles in my legs along with a crazy amount of elevation and very little sleep, even at a fast paced walk, this would be a good 3 hours or so of solid walking/jogging. I hated it! That road dragged on and on and on, I refused to look at my watch to see how much further as I knew I’d only be annoyed that we likely wouldn’t have covered as much distance as it felt like we had, and although Tyson would happily have told me how much further, I asked him not to say anything, telling myself it would teach me the art of patience!

My patience however was wearing thin, and every time we rounded a corner, I was hoping to see people standing around, waiting to wave us into the checkpoint. The saving grace was seeing the sunrise – it was beautiful, the sky turning a pinkish red against the few clouds in the sky, and then the golden ball itself peaking over those mountains. The trees in the Flathead Valley were already showing off their vibrant autumn colours, but when the sun hit them, it enhanced those colours even more, and it was breathtaking.

We didn’t chat much on that road and I was quite content to just run alongside Tyson knowing that without him, this was the point where I most likely would have crumbled. The lack of sleep back at Lost Creek Cabin was now catching up with me, I was in desperate need of food, drink and sleep again, and I kept having what can only be described as out of body feelings as my brain went foggy and my eyes felt tired. But we pushed on … and on … and on!

Finally …. FINALLY! … there it was – the turning into the checkpoint, and I saw other people. Tyson once again gave a knowing look, and I felt so flipping relieved! I think I may have ran those last hundred metres or so into the checkpoint, and I immediately spotted my good friend Pawel who would be pacing me to the finish. He’d been volunteering all night and I’m  sure he must have been tired himself, yet he jumped straight in and got me sitting down by the fire to warm up, and brought me meatballs and perogies. Oh my gosh, did they taste amazing!

I hadn’t looked at my watch and I was still completely unaware of what time it actually was in real time, but Tyson told me we had completed that section from CP10 to CP12 in around 8 to 8 and a half hours – faster than I had expected, which put me either further ahead of schedule. It seemed a little surreal – my first 200 mile race was going so well, I was still feeling extremely positive, and I was just a mere 28 miles or so from the finish .. what the what??!!

Andy hadn’t quite made it in time to see me come into the aid station but it was only 20 minutes later or so that I saw him. It was such a relief as now I knew I could finally catch some sleep. I felt bad that Tyson would have to wait until I started the next leg as he was having a ride back with Andy, but as with Shane, he was very understanding and was quite happy to just hang out until it was time to go. I loved how understanding and patient he had been – what an awesome guy!

Back at the car, Wilson climbed into the back of the car with me as I snuggled down in the sleeping bag to get warm, and my goodness, it felt so good to have his warm fur to snuggle up to. I got a little emotional having him there whilst thinking that it really was now very likely I was going to finish the race, and with that, I nodded off into a blissful sleep.

Just shy of an hour later, I woke up and knocked on the window to get Andy’s attention. I was ravenous and ready for more food, and I knocked by a cup of tea and coffee and another protein recovery drink. I really couldn’t believe how well my stomach was behaving, especially after the first night, and the food was even being digested as I’d been pooping for the past couple of days too. I had a baby wipe shower again, then changed into fresh clothes that would take me to the finish line. I hopped out of the back of the car, legs feeling refreshed once again, and I was ready to roll. Pawel was waiting for me and the reality of what I was shortly about to achieve really hit home – I let out a whoop – boy was I fricking happy!!

Tyson was hanging around the fire pit and we gave each other a huge hug as I thanked him for EVERYTHING – he had been an absolute star and an awesome pacer and he really couldn’t have done a better job. As I was about to leave, another friend was just coming into CP10 and on seeing her, I gave her a huge hug too. It was a very emotional and weird moment – that sense of determination and comradeship with other runners …..

Hugs with an amazing friend - we're going to do this!

I thanked the volunteers, waved a cheery bye bye, then joined Pawel as we began the final stage of the race towards the finish line.

CP12 to CP13 - Harvey Creek to Middle Kootenay Pass (Leg distance 28km)

If running with Tyson had been quiet and peaceful, running with Pawel was crazy and hilarious! He’s such a fun chap to be with, and even when he’s frustrated and ranting about things, he makes me laugh so much. It was just what I needed to help me over the final few miles and I loved having him for company. It helped that we already knew each other and he also gets on really well with Andy – maybe it was the European humour, I don’t know, but I laughed lots for the next few miles. We chatted about anything and everything, and when I had a desperate urge to break wind, there was no embarrassment whatsoever when it came out in front of Pawel, and then he started to join in. Quite disgusting really, but we were having so much fun.

45km to go! Setting off with Pawel

The hour’s sleep had worked wonders and I was feeling alert and lively. The legs were moving well and I was feeling extremely good both physically and mentally. We’d started pretty early in the morning when things were still on the cool side, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, things really heated up and the gravel road we were following was providing little to no shade. There wasn’t a great deal to look at along this road – forests bordered the road, and with the height of the trees, the surrounding mountains just weren’t visible. It wasn’t a busy road either – being hunting season, we did see a couple of hunters out and about, and we ran into a few horses that were having a stroll through the area, but other than that, it was just Pawel and I.

I had thought the next checkpoint was only 14 miles give or take, but when we got to 20km and there was still no sign, both of us started to get somewhat frustrated. I was getting low on food and I needed to eat something, and I was getting through my drinks quickly due to the heat. The only water we spotted was a small trickle of a creek which didn’t look too inviting for drinking water, so we tried to ration things as best we could.

The road was pretty flat and we did a mix of running and walking, although by now, it was mostly speed walking, our poles clipping the ground as we moved quickly along the road. There was quite a long climb at one point, we crossed a raging river, but it was too far to scramble down to grab any water, so we carried on, convinced that the aid station must be just around the corner. We spotted a garter snake lying in the road and figured it must be warm to see one of those out in mid-September basking in the sun. We tried to get him to move out of the road, but he seemed quite content to lie there and we hoped no car came along and squished him.

The route finally took us away from the road, and we following a dirt track up the hill – surely the checkpoint must be just up here. But half an hour later, we were still making our way up that hill, and there was still no sign. An ATV came along and it was some of the Sinister Sports crew transporting people to the checkpoint – they told it was probably another 5km or so – ugggh! I was so sick and tired of this road and just wanted to be done!

Pawel was great at trying to keep things positive. He too was getting a bit despondent about how long it was actually taking to reach the checkpoint, but he did his best to keep or minds occupied and keep us laughing. By now, I could also feel a blister forming on my foot. We had crossed a river a short while earlier, and I had waded through the water to cool off as well as dunking my hat. The wet socks were not good  and they were aggravating the side of my foot just a touch- I needed to keep an eye on that, otherwise it could get quite painful and jeopardise a good finish!

We kept pushing on up that dirt track, not a single soul around. I was focused on getting to the next checkpoint, but Pawel told me afterwards that he had heard a growling in the trees at one point and was convinced there was a bear nearby. He hadn’t said anything at the time, but it had made him more attentive to our surroundings and he was keeping an eye out just in case.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, we arrived a CP12, and it was a most welcome sight for sure! I made sure to drink lots of water and coke, and I also grabbed some snacky food whilst there. We say down for about 10 minutes or so making sure we both had everything we needed to safety continue, but again I was very aware that we had to be careful not to stay too long and hence get too comfortable. My right hand and wrist had also become very swollen despite me drinking lots of water and Skratch. In previous races, this usually means I’m dehydrated, but I had been peeing again so knew it couldn’t be that. I decided to take a couple of salt pill to see if my body needed salt – I had been drinking but then I had been sweating quite heavily too – maybe I hadn’t taken in quite enough electrolytes in the drinks. Amazingly, just 10 minutes after taking the salt pills, the swelling went down and I could start to relax again, knowing it was nothing to be concerned about.

We had a laugh and a joke with the two volunteers at the aid station, and then we knew we needed to make tracks. I could smell the finish line, I knew we had one more good climb ahead of us and I was eager to get going. We said our goodbyes, and then Pawell and I set off to make our way over Middle Kootenay Pass on our way back to Castle Mountain Resort and that finish line.

CP13 to Finish - over Middle Kootenay Pass to the finish (Leg distance 17km)

Pawel had been such a star. He’d injured his knee in recent weeks but he was still willing to pace me despite it still not being 100%. I think he was in some pain when running with me, but he never once complained although I could see some of the discomfort he must have been in. 

After leaving the aid station, the next couple of miles were relatively flat all things considered, taking us through forests and across rivers. The first river crossing came quite early on. It wasn’t shallow and I knew I was going to suffer with wet, squelchy feet again, but I still waded through and appreciated the cooling effect it had on my sore feet. I had used some blister pads earlier in the race, but the wet socks and shoes had loosened them, and those blisters were now starting to tingle a bit. Pawel didn’t go through the water – he took the tumbled down bridge that looked a little precarious and dangerous and I was worried about him slipping and falling a good 5 or 10 ft in to the river. Thankfully he made it safely across, and he got straight back into pacing mode, keeping me going, keeping me laughing and keeping me positive.

Broken bridges - I took the river!

A few ups and downs meant the blister on the side of my left foot was getting sore again, and then I felt it pop. Not wanting a huge bloody mess, we found a log for me to sit on whilst I taped things up with as many plasters I could find in my backpack. They weren’t sticking very well due to the wet feet, but I needed to cover them with some, so I was kind of hoping the multiple plasters would hold at least a couple of them in place to stop things getting any worse.

It felt strange knowing we only had about 13km to go to the finish, but those last 13km were not easy! The running through the forest was pretty good – not too rocky, nice soft ground, and fresh smell of the pine trees was wonderful. We couldn’t see too much of the mountains as we were still in the thick of the forest, but we’d been told that if we hit the summit of the pass at sunset, it would be absolutely beautiful. We were still making great progress, and I took a sneak peak at my watch to get some idea of how long it had been since the start. I can’t recall how long it had been, but I do remember thinking that I was going to finish well ahead of schedule by a good 4 or 5 hours. I was gobsmacked!

It was early evening when we started to climb up the pass, but before we hit the open trail with extensive views of the surrounding slopes, we had to do some bushwhacking which was absolutely crazy! The trail ran between the trees (I can’t recall the type of tree)  where the branches were almost at floor level, and they were so intertwined that running through them was near impossible. They were so low that I had to crouch to make my way through which put extra strain on my already tired muscles. It was bonkers! This went on for a good half an hour at least, and I do recall a few, “this is effing ridiculous!” moments, whilst at the same time feeling highly amused at just how ridiculous it really was. Pawel was not impressed either, and although I knew he wasn’t happy with the current terrain, I found his reactions amusing.

Finally we emerged from those trees and we were treated to the most amazing views of mountains and forests all around us. The trail had started to climb steeply again, but we could see the gap at the summit and knew that this climb wouldn’t actually be so bad. It became rocky, sandy gravel again with a few larger rocks to trip us up, and I also noticed how the number of berry bushes was increasing. Given that it was now dusk, I was starting to feel apprehensive about a possible bear encounter – it was perfect bear territory and with the abundance of berries, I was 100% certain we were going to bump into one of the big furry critters.

Middle Kootenay Pass with about 10k to the finish

What a guy! Thank you Pawel :)

Thankfully we made it safely to the top and were mesmerised by those views. A couple of runners had caught us on the climb, coming out of nowhere from behind. We hadn’t seen or heard anybody in so long that they made us jump, we said a quick hello, and they bombed off down the trail into the distance below. One of the official photographers was also making their way up the other side, and we knew that we were almost home!

The way down the other side was extremely rocky again and a few streams crossed the trail. I knew we were so close, and I found myself running at a fairly decent pace, my legs and feet crying out in pain, my breathing not really controlled, but I was so excited. I started to imagine how I’d feel crossing the finish line and the tears started to well up yet again. Pawel was running ahead of me by now, encouraging me to keep up with him as he too knew we were so close. I spotted a few camping spots on the way down and tried to memorise them for future camping trips – it would be so awesome to be camping out here, but then the bears ….. – and then I’d refocus on the here and now, and started to push onwards again.

More rocky descents and wet feet

I recognised the mountains that tower over Castle Mountain Resort and took a quick look at my watch. I shout to Pawel that if there was a trail at the bottom of this hill, then it was only about 2km – we could dip under 84 hours for the finish! The other runners had disappeared by now, but I honestly thought we were much closer than we actually were.

The downhill was tough but on reaching the valley bottom, it became fast and flat for running. I wasn’t exactly running fast, but being flat meant I was happy to run again. Things were now getting dark but we still didn’t quite need headtorches, but those shadows in the trees meant that for the first time during the race, I started to experience hallucinations. I thought I saw the resort hostel and the road through the trees, I kept seeing log cabins, boats and wooden jetties leading out to lakes, and then I saw an RV parked on a cliff edge above me. None of these were real of course, and once I realised what was happening, I thought back to one of the videos I had watched about sleep strategies during 200 mile races; “when the hallucinations start, don’t be frightened by them, just embrace them and enjoy the ride!” My visions weren’t scary or weird in any way which to me showed my state of mind – I wasn’t fearful, and all I wanted in those last few miles was to be finished and snuggled up at home where I would be warm and safe and cosy. My mind playing tricks on me was definitely a first – being able to distinguish dreams from reality due to sleep deprivation has always been a concern for me and I had been frightened – not I had experienced it, it really wasn’t so bad. Knowing I was starting to imagine things, I kept my eyes firmly on the ground in front of me which stopped me from conjuring up anything else. I think Pawel was finding it amusing, but he kept me going and made sure I wasn’t too distracted by those imaginary things.

Finally we arrived at the bridge that we had crossed shortly after the start, 3 and a half days previously – we were literally about 400 metres from the finish, and I couldn’t stopped smiling! Pawel and I ran into the grounds of Castle Mountain Resort together, just the two of us making our way to the finish gantry. Even now as I type this, I can feel the emotion I felt on that night and it is still a little overwhelming. I had finished The Divide 200 – my first 200-mile race – in 84 hours 28 minutes. It was quite the achievement for me personally, and I didn’t hold back – I let those emotions flow!

Emotions at the finish line

congratulatory hugs from a good friend

The after …..

Looking back at The Divide 200, it still hard for me to comprehend how the hell I did it. I suppose if I’m honest, I never really had any doubt that I would finish – what I didn’t know is how long it would take me. I would quite happily have finished in last place in 99 hours 59 minutes if that’s what it came to, but I didn’t. I finished 7th lady and 29th overall out of just 61 finishers. I’d gone into the race without putting any pressure on myself except just to finish, but I had told my pacers that if all went well, I thought I could finish in 80 to 90 hours, and in the end, that’s exactly what I did.

The thing that helped me the most was going into the race without putting any pressure or expectation on myself – by not chasing times or positions, I was able to enjoy the race, encounter the whole experience, and look up and appreciate my surroundings on many, many occasions over those three and a half days. Other than the first night when I experienced the vomiting, my nutrition was spot on, and I was really happy that I was able to eat the food I did without any problems. There are some things that were delicious - the lemon flavoured wafer when I was running with Barb to Racehorse Pass, and then the strawberry and cranberry energy bar when I was heading down to Beaver Mines Lake. The recovery drinks were perfect, and whilst some would argue it isn't wise to drink milk during an ultra, I had no problems at all, and drank considerable amounts of the stuff.

My pacers were so fricking awesome in making sure I stayed on top of my refuelling, and Andy of course was even more fricking amazing for making sure I had recovery drinks and food at the checkpoints where he was able to crew me.

Whilst everything did go amazingly well, there are perhaps a couple of things I would change if I went back again. I don’t think I needed to sleep for an hour at Beaver Mines Lake – I should have just eaten something and then carried on to the next aid at Syncline Group Camp – it was only 20 or so kilometres away, and I’m pretty sure I could have managed that as I hadn’t even been running for 24 hours at that point. I think the vomiting knocked my confidence on that first night, but once I got to spend time on my own between CP 3 and 4, my mind was back where it was meant to be, and I was able to run the race I had hoped for.

I also feel that I should have had more of a rest at Lost Cabin aid station. I think I was only able to grab 20 minutes if that even though I was there for over an hour – it was so cold in the communal sleeping area that I couldn’t sleep, and that whole transition felt disorganised and rushed. As a result, the run over North Kootenay Pass was harder than I’d hoped, and I experienced the light headedness and almost like an out of body of experience when making my way up the pass. 

Aside from that, I would make no changes whatsoever! I was lucky with my pacers who did the most amazing job in looking after me and getting me from one point to the next. Their individual personalities kept things interesting, and I loved being with every single one of them. There is no denying though that knowing my wonderful friend Barb would be my first pacer, and my other  amazing friend Pawel would be taking me into the finish really helped to keep my mind positive for the whole race. Spending time with those folks, knowing that they had already seen me at my worst, was very reassuring, and I have to say I love those two! Then of course Shane and Tyson – strangers yet not strangers  to me – they too had seen me at my worst in previous races, yet they still both accepted me for who I am and were willing to step up and guide me through those miles.

In terms of my recovery since the race, it took a good couple of weeks before the fatigue finally left my legs and I was able to run a sub 9 minute mile on the roads. My muscles had been fine with no aches or pains like I normally get from the shorter ultras, but that heaviness hung around and I was happy to just let my body do its thing until it was ready to start moving at a faster pace again. I was also eating lots and lots of food, and I was thirsty for several days. The sides of my tongue were quite tender for about a week afterwards too, and I found eating and drinking hot food really difficult. I've no idea what caused that sensitivity in my tongue, but I'm sure it likely had something to do with the ultra runner's diet for a few days and maybe a touch of dehydration.

In terms of recovering from the sleep deprivation, my mind did feel foggy for a couple of days, and I found that I couldn't concentrate on things properly - thankfully my work colleagues were very understanding and patient with me whilst recovering! I was getting home from work, having my tea and then falling asleep on the sofa - I was likely getting 12 hours of sleep every night for the next week or two. I was also getting night sweats which I attributed to the run, and my body just readjusting to what is considered normal life. 

Sleep for a week! Wilson didn't leave my side for days

I've since started running again and I can feel the strength in my legs which is very strange - I actually think it's made me stronger, and I'd love to maintain that strength and fitness as much as possible as we move into the winter months here in Alberta. I've certainly no races planned anytime soon, but it would be great starting the new race season feeling fit and healthy.

I think I’ve now said enough about The Divide 200 and you’re probably bored as anything now – I do waffle and tend to go on! – but there are just a couple more thank yous to make.

To my coach Paul who gets my training plan right, has confidence in me, and is forever supportive of my running endeavours – thank you.

To the race organisers, volunteers and all the other racers out there – thank you! Special thanks to Dani, Tia and Sandra for helping me get through that first day, and to Cameron for joining us for 70km of the race and sharing stories of life with us.

To all my family and friends – runners and non-runners alike – thank you for following along, for believing in me, and for not questioning my sanity when I tell you I’m hoping to do these things. Your support always means the world to me!

And finally, a very very special thanks to the man who doesn’t like to be mentioned too much – my amazing husband Andy. He was the one who encouraged me to register for the race, knowing that I could do it, and he was perfectly happy to crew me for as long as it took me to finish. He went for 3 and a half days without proper sleep, he did tons of driving just to be at the checkpoints to meet me, he made sure the back of our car felt like a 5 star hotel when I needed to sleep, and he made sure that all the food and drink I had was just what I needed to run 200 miles in the mountains of Southern Alberta. He even listened to me talking about poops and pees, sore lady bits, manky feet, and how much I must have stunk after 3 days of no showers! He truly is a star, and nothing I say or do will ever be enough to express the gratitude I have for this man, the man who has been by my side for the past 27 years!

There are many who say that completing a 200 -mile race changes you, but I am still trying to figure out what that means. Have I changed? Probably not, but maybe I look at things a little differently now and that translates to life in general. That was quite the adventure and I’m not sure if anything will ever be able to top it. Sometimes I wonder if others think I find this running malarkey easy, and it's a foregone conclusion that I will finish. One thing I have learnt about with ultra running is that the result you are looking for is never guaranteed, and you have to work for it, not just on the day, but in the weeks, months, and sometimes even years leading up to a particular race. Ultra running is also mostly a mental thing, as well as physical - if you mind isn't in the right place, then it's going to be tough. I approach life and all my race with a positive attitude, I ride the waves as best I can, and I laugh when things go wrong because that's the only way i know how. I was lucky at The Divide that I kept that positive mindset, there was never any thoughts of quitting or about failure if indeed even trying such a thing and not succeeding is considered failure (I don't think it is!). I believe that's what got me through it.

The Divide 200 wasn’t easy, not even for me despite what you may have read above. I worked damn hard for that finish, not just for the duration of the race but also leading up to it, and I will always be grateful and indeed proud that I was one of the first to run and complete the inaugural Divide 200.