Belt-buckle breakdown: Run Woodstock Hallucination 100 mile race report

It was such an epic journey that it's hard to know where to begin.

So in an effort to make this more readable I'm going to break this report down not in terms of chronological sequence but rather by component parts - and hopefully those of you who are only interested in certain facets can scroll through to what catches your fancy.

Here are the areas that I'm going to focus in on:

• The course (including conditions)
• The equipment
• The (other) people
• The advice
• The runner
• The mistakes.

The course
While I'd told many people that I was going to go to Hell (Michigan) - with the hopes of also fulfilling the "and back" part - the actual address to punch into the GPS navigator had me heading to Pinckney, a little northeast of Hell and about halfway between Ann Arbor and Lansing.  I'd made the trek the night before the race to stay with my friends Chuck & Jan in Emeryville (just outside of Windsor) so that the day-of drive to Hell Creek Ranch Campground would only require 90 min. of travel time.

As the name would indicate the property on which we'd be starting the race was a campground - and a funky-vibed one at that.

Can you dig the speed limit, sucka .....?!?!

The 100-mile race distance consists of six 16.6 mile loops (or 26.7 km), and as I was to find out upwards of 1/3 of the loop was either on crushed limestone rail-trail or rural sideroad.  Aid stations were situated approximately 4 miles apart, so we had the initial start/finish aid station (with drop bag tent), the "Grace" station (at 4 mi. and then crossed again at 12 mi.) and "Richie's Haven".  At each station there were plenty of friendly faces, loads of snacks/liquids/foods and rockin' tunage.

With respect to the trail conditions they were very well groomed and not particularly technical - for all intents and purposes the entire course was runnable (except perhaps for the steepest and longest incline at 13 mi.) and there was only really one notable patch of mud that required circumnavigation.  Aside from that the biggest hazard (and some were big) were the piles of horse droppings that greeted you from time to time ... easily dodged in the daylight, but almost indistinguishable from the regular trail footing at night (yuck).

There were boardwalks over ponds and creeks.

There was marshland with shoulder-height grass and weeds (which I was almost certain would send me home with at least a few ticks, but thankfully none were found).

There were extended sections of downhill bombing with 'death to the right' (aka a steep drop-off, but I like Rhonda-Marie's descriptor better).

There were next-to-no bugs (mosquitoes, deerflies or otherwise).  I think that during the entire race I might have swatted at bugs perhaps four times, and was never bitten.

And as for the conditions on the day (and night), you could hardly have asked for better.  There was a steady rain that lasted for maybe 30-40 min. at around 1pm on Friday afternoon (the race start time was at 4pm), but after that there was no precipitation that affected the run.  This meant that everything underfoot was relatively secure, and even when the nighttime temperatures cooled down to about 14°C (vs. the daytime high of about 24°C) there was nothing to make it miserable or even unenjoyable ... it was all-around pleasant.  I didn't need to don any of the extra layers (e.g. long-sleeved tech top, rain jacket or running pants) that I'd brought with me so that minimized the amount of extra time that might otherwise have been required for changing into different outfits.

Now I have to say something else about the vibe of the campground - when we looped back through the start/finish area it was hard not to feel encouraged.  With so many people camping out as part of the race weekend (families, crew members, racers tackling different distances) there was never a point - even in the dead of night) when there wasn't a cascade of applause lifting your spirits.  As well during the daylight hours there was music playing (live bands on the soundstage were a feature part of the camping experience), and just tons of colour to stimulate your visual senses.  It was - dare I say it? - groovy.

 [ Photo courtesy of Run Woodstock on Facebook ]

The equipment
This is just a basic rundown of what I used during the race:

• Shoes:  Reebok Floatride Forever Energy (although these are road shoes they did serve me well at the Sunburn Solstice Trail Run and the Limberlost Challenge - plus I was encouraged when there were a few other 100-mile runners that I spoke with pre-race who had competed in this event in previous years and chose to lace up road shoes as well)
• Apparel:  Reebok "Race Crew" ACTIVCHILL tee; Reebok 5-in. split shorts; Falke RU Energizing compression socks; Sugoi arm sleeves; Buff original headwear (as neck-warmer/sweat absorber)
• Pack: Ultimate Direction AK 2.0 Race Vest (with Platypus Big Zip LP 1.5L bladder, courtesy of superathlete extraordinaire Christina Blackley) 
• Headlamps:  Princeton Tec Remix (125 lumens) and Black Diamond Astro (150 lumens)
• Watch:  Epson RunSense SF-810 (which unfortunately ran out of battery partway through the fourth loop)
• Nutrition:  REKARB energy syrups; GU gels; PC Organics banana & raspberry strained baby food pouches (this stuff was like magic!); assorted Timbits; Ironman Ruth's homemade oat-cakes and rhubarb/banana/chocolate muffins; Salt Stick salt tablets; Pep-O-Mint Lifesavers

And then there was the extra stuff that I packed but never ended up actually using/needing (but was still glad that I had with me):

• Skechers GOTrail Ultra 3 (extra shoes)
• Dollar-store variety 'magic gloves'
• Reebok running performance cap
• Reebok run essentials s/s and l/s shirt
• Team Running Free fleece hoodie (at the advice of my friend Julius)
• Jar of pickles
• Trader Joe almonds  

A pretty decent haul in the race kit goody bag!

The people
This list go almost literally go on and on - prior to the race I deliberately sought the advice of a number of experienced ultrarunning friends, including Steph Hurtado, Keith Lascelles, Chad Dickinson, Steven Parke and Jim Willett.  I'd benefited so much as well from the comraderie and encouragment of my tribe the Barrie RunNinjas, and would be remiss if I didn't thank the Barrie Trail Running Club too.

However along the way in the race there were definitely a few folks who played a big part in the overall experience:

• Marilyn - we first met in the line for race kit pick-up.  I immediately took notice of her slight and diminutive frame which I interpreted to be 'fit and fast' - and sure enough as she engaged me in pleasant small talk while we waited together in line she told me that while being a first-timer at the Hallucination 100 like me (she was from the greater Boston area) she was "6 for 10" in 100 milers.  I would later pick her brain while setting up gear in the start/finish area drop-bag tent, covering everything from pacing to how much extra gear to bring on any given loop.  We started pretty much together but after about 3k I (foolishly?) sped ahead and didn't see her again until my 5th lap when I was really struggling with GI issues and she passed me looking strong.  I would only see her again after regaining some strength and obliviously saying "trying to pass on your left" at about mile 99.  My finishing time was only about two minutes ahead of hers, and when she crossed I wanted to be there to greet her and offer up my thanks.  She embraced me with the hugest bear-hug possible and tearfully congratulated me on my big accomplishment. 
• David - we had our stuff situated beside each other in the start/finish drop-bag tent, and got to chatting while waiting for the pre-race meeting.  David was a local runner and had finished a few hundos, including the Hallucination 100 several years back.  I immediately noticed his stars-and-stripes running shorts, and we connected not just on the fashion front but also as he is a dad to a few young-adult children.  I loved going through David's fueling plan with him, which included some niacin tablets which I learned can warm you up when feeling cold during a long race.  While a seasoned ultra-athlete, I saw David hurting during his third lap and he told me that his hamstrings were simply not having it that day ... and as such he had to drop out after about 45 miles.
• Doug - I connected with Doug as we started from the campground on the second loop.  From the campground the course narrows to single track, so I got to chatting with him and another younger runner (Jacob) and we ran together for the next 4km or so.  We were exchanging stories about how we got into running, and I found out that among other things Doug's nickname was "Goat" (apparently short for "Rancid Goat"!) and that he's been quite involved in charity races and helping execute races of various distances which are promoted as friendly to first-time racers.  A super-friendly guy, Doug and I would end up playing 'leap-frog' for pretty much the remainder of the race - he and his pacer (unlike me, Doug had a full crew there to help him with logistics, refueling and pacing) would often pass me out on the course but we'd see each other at the aid stations because Doug (who was nursing a bad hamstring issue himself) would spend more time resting while I tried to grab some food and keep moving.  Doug was 110% pure grit, and it was so inspiring and uplifting to my spirits to keep crossing paths with him all throughout the day and night and day again. 
• The border patrol/customs agents - obviously an unusual addition to a race report, but I found that both entering the USA and re-entering Canada the border guards were absolutely fascinated by the fact that my reason for travel was to run an ultramarathon, much less a 100 miler.  As soon as they caught wind that that was the focus of my trip they completely abandoned the normal array of questions (e.g. where do you live, are you bringing anything into the country, how long is your stay, etc.) and just peppered me with questions about the logistics of the race, what kind of training was required and what kind of plan I had in place to stay awake and moving.  I almost felt like I had to cut them off just so that I wouldn't tick off the other cars in line behind me.  

The advice
When I peruse through other people's race reports I admin to sometimes not reading through the entire narrative - not because its uninteresting, but because my sole purpose is try to walk away with a few nuggets of information that I can implement into my next comparable venture.  As such I thought that I would highlight some of the key pieces of advice that I received which I think are worth noting for anyone attempting an ultramarathon, and perhaps in particular a hundred-miler:

• Walk before you have to - I know that I voiced this myself after reflecting on the Sunburn Solstice Trail Run, but I've also read/heard this from multiple fronts.  At some point in an ultra you are most likely to have to walk - so incorporate them strategically instead of feeling that its a last resort.  When you choose an interval to walk you are almost certainly even going to carry that on at a more vigourous pace than if you are reduced to having to walk.
• Stay in the moment - a video that I'd recently come across was a TED talk by a gent named Ned Phillips and out of all the stories that he told the one little bit that stuck with me was about how important it is when running to just think about running.  Sounds simple, and it is - but profoundly so:  https://youtu.be/_tc4K5Zujqw?t=629
• Be careful of over-preparing - another video that proved immensely helpful was an interview with Anton Krupicka (won the Leadville 100 twice, and placed second in 2010 at Western States).  Besides reiterating the 'stay in the moment' approach Anton also shared some reassuring words about how ignorance leading into one's first 100-miler can be underrated.  It's not an excuse for negligence or laziness in making sure that you're well-trained and reasonably aware of what's in front of you, but that you can overthink your preparation.  I even read that you can over-pack, putting energy and $$ into bring far more stuff than you need, especially to races (like the Hallucination 100) that has fantastic aid stations that are not too too far apart.  Even the very small cooler of food/snacks that I brought was barely scratched because of how well stocked the race aid stations were.
• Brushing your teeth can feel as good as a shower - this was a tidbit advised by both my friends Steven and Steph.  I packed a toothbrush and toothpaste and pulled them out after lap #4 (approx. 9:00 am) in the hopes that having a fresh mouth would revitalize me.  It was no instant wake-up call, but I can say that I did have something to look forward to as I was plodding toward sunrise, and it was great to feel like my breath wouldn't melt metal.

The runner
What can I say?  I spent an entire season only racing ultras in the hopes of being fit enough to complete the Hallucination 100 in the allotted time (30-hour cut-off, which would give me a Western States qualifying ballot).  In addition to plenty of time logged on my feet I also took Steven's advice of trying to put in a few run streaks to try to help bolster my mental preparation - for me this meant running every day for the month of January (no mean feat during the polar vortex-type winters here in Barrie, ON) and the month of March.   I figured that if I could get out there when I was not only tired but the conditions were certainly prohibitive that perhaps I would be ready for pushing through those proverbial 'walls' when I felt like running was the last thing that I wanted to do.

And the walls, they came.

I think that there were at least five distinct occasions during my 100-mile run when I effectively thought that I was done.  The earliest occurrence was at around kilometre 32 when I was walking up a hill and couldn't even maintain a straight path.  Now I confess to have been battling light-headedness and vertigo for the five days leading up the Hallucination 100 - I think that it may have been a result of a sinus infection - and wasn't even sure that I would make it to the start line.  However I felt like I could give it a go with my only real fear being that if/when I fell on the trails that the world might start spinning out-of-control.  Thankfully that didn't end up happening (maybe in part due to the fact that when I did fall I went full-out Superman diving instead of my normal tuck-and-roll strategy).

Then there was the GI (gastro-intestinal) stuff.

As much as I have tried to learn from the assortment of ultras that I managed to complete this year, I still do not have a handle on how to fuel in a way that doesn't upset my stomach.  By the time that I was going around on loop #5 (about 85km in) I was finding it very difficult to get in the calories that I needed without having my stomach reject it altogether.  I was grateful that aid station #1/#3 (we passed by it twice) had plain cheese pizza, but the only way that I could get it down was to walk slowly and try to eat it in the smallest of nibble-sizes.  I couldn't handle anything sweet - so no more gels, no candy, not enough peanut butter & jam sandwiches.  And even chicken noodle soup threatened to make a reappearance after swallowing it if I tried to consume it in modestly-full spoonfuls.  This made for a recipe of near-disaster as I went into a serious calorie-deficit position and pretty much walked the entire fifth lap.

About 27km of watching people look good while I felt like a zombie. 

27km of hearing "on your left".

27km of thinking about how I was going to draft my 'DNF' race report.

Oh, and did I mention that my watch had run out of battery life during the fourth loop?

I'd told myself that I was pretty much spent, and that there would be no way that after the fifth lap that I would have enough time (at my current pace) to make the cut-off.  That decision to bail was also made psychologically a bit easier given that the organizers give anyone who completes more than 100km the option to back down and receive a time for the "Happening 100k" (instead of a DNF in the 100 miler) as well as a medal for that distance.

Coming back into the campground at the end of lap 5 I sat down (and I really hadn't sat down all race long - I tried to keep moving at all times, even if it was just at a slow walk) convinced that I was done.  The senior volunteer who was tracking bib numbers as we came through the aid station asked me how long before I'd set out for the last go-round, and I told her I was pretty much finished.  Her response was "but you still have lots of time" ... and not knowing what time it was exactly I still had no designs on pressing on.  I was pretty sure that it was past 4pm, and that would leave me a total of six hours or less to complete another 27km of feeling downright nasty.

"It's 3:31 pm", she said.

Moment of truth time.

With more than six hours left I somehow convinced myself that I could give it a go and pull out at one of the aid stations if/when things got extraordinarily ugly.  So I (figuratively) girded my loins, and went to ring the bell that hung in the aid tent - it was explained to us during the pre-race meeting that on the final lap runners had to ring the bell to signal that they were only going round once more (much like you would hear at a track-and-field event).  Once I gave it a good ring I planted my right foot forward to try to muster something of a jog ...

And guess what?

I actually found myself running.  Faster than I had for the previous 5-7 hours.  Not sure if it was the bell that mentally woke me up, or the prospect of potentially being able to earn my first belt buckle - whatever it was, I managed to make my last loop my third fastest of the race:

• Loop 1 - 3:10
• Loop 2 - 3:53
• Loop 3 - 5:01
• Loop 4 - 5:10
• Loop 5 - 6:17
• Loop 6 - 4:23

As a last note on this section I'll say that even though I did not have any crew or pacers with me (and honestly I think that this event was well set-up to not need any additional help) I did use the setting sun as my 'unofficial' pacer for the final loop.  The last thing that I wanted to have to do is to pull out my headlamp again to run in the dark - so my cadence picked up with the lengthening shadows.  There's nothing quite like desperation to keep your feet moving.

The final tale of the tape

The mistakes
I'm sure that there are many more errors in judgment, preparation and execution but I think that I'll just note two of them here:

1. Driving home right after finishing - yep, I waddled my way from the finishing to collect my drop-bag stuff and headed straight out of the campground to my car.  I then launched headlong into the 5+ hour drive home, which included a late-night stop at McDonald's to grab a caffeine jolt and numerous overpass bridges that seemingly became Transformers before my eyes.  Apparently the hallucinations for me were kept on hold until after the run.  Still, I managed to get home safely somehow, grabbed a shower and hit the hay in my own bed.  This all despite numerous recommendations not to extend my streak of 34 awake hours to 39 (including my wife telling me to just nab a hotel room).  Don't try this at home, kids.
2. Giving myself very little recovery time - I took two days off of running after getting home.  I thought that my legs actually felt pretty good, and since I had already committed to pacing the County Marathon again this year I didn't want to dive into off-season mode quite yet.  And while I didn't launch into a hardcore training week, I did help my friend Jeremy move the following weekend and promptly threw my back out completely.  I was shelved for about three days with radiating lower-back pain, and after that subsided my neck seized up for another three days.  I felt like I was physically falling to pieces, but I suspect that that was just my body telling me "what - you didn't think that I just did the most strenuous workout in 49 years of life?".

-----

So there it is - the Hallucination 100 as I best remember it.  Where we go from here is to submit my single ballot into the 2020 Western States Endurance Run lottery - and even if I don't see my name drawn (which is almost guaranteed) I may think about hitting up another belt buckle adventure.  It was an excellent time all in all, and I still believe that I could finish one in under 24 hours.

But first, some donuts and a decent off-season ...! :)

Sign me up for another rodeo, cowboy!

Belt-buckle breakdown: Run Woodstock Hallucination 100 mile race report

Are trail running shoes overrated?

I can hardly believe that I'm actually writing this entry.

For as far as I can remember (since I started running) I've been a believer in specialization.  That means that if you want to run fast, you need to run fast (as well as running slow in between workouts).  To prep for hot weather racing, you should ... run in hot weather.  For trail races, practice getting out on trail conditions of all kinds.

And different types of running should call for different types of shoes.  Racing flats.  Track spikes.  Cushioned road shoes (for easy/recovery days).  Trail shoes for trails.

But hold the phone ...

Out of (perhaps an overinflated) sense of obligation**, I decided to try out wearing the Reebok Forever Floatride Energy (FFE) as my footwear of choice for both the Sunburn Solstice Trail Run and the Limberlost Challenge.  The FFE shoes are designed for the road, whereas both of the aforementioned races were conducted on trail surfaces.  Now I know that anyone who has tackled either of those events would recognize that they are not particularly technical as far as trail conditions (on a scale of 1-10 the Sunburn Solstice might have been a 4 or 5, while the Limberlost Challenge might nab a 6 or 7 at most) so perhaps you could argue that they don't particularly demand the advantages that trail shoes offer.  All the same they are marketed as trail races, and as such would lead your average runner (such as myself) to believe that trail shoes are either mandatory or at least recommended for the course surface.

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These shoes have done more than I could have asked of them - even though they’re meant for the road they helped me log a 100km trail run ( on a 4km loop) and then two weeks later a more technical 56km trail ultra. I can for certain say that I #feelthefloatride ! #floatrideenergy #bemorehuman #sporttheunexpected #sunburnsolsticetrailrace #thelimberlostchallenge

A post shared by Patrick Voo (@pbfvoo) on Jul 12, 2019 at 1:18pm PDT

How did I manage in attempting to take on these races in road shoes?

Long story short, surprisingly well.

I didn't feel like I suffered much in the way of traction or stability, which I was surprised about given their fairly flat outsole profile.  I may not have propelled my way up inclines effortlessly, but then again anything of a serious grade had me power-hiking (hands-on-knees style) anyway.  Where things got technical-ish I was maneuvering slowly and deliberately anyhow, and through sections of significant mud I'm not sure that the traction currently offered to me by the trail shoes in my inventory (the Skechers GO Trail, GO Ultra Trail 3 and Merrell Mix Master 2) would have made a discernible difference.

The Reebok Forever Floatride Energy - only ever-so-slightly nubby outsoles

Basically since I wasn't doing any mountain climbing or fell running (and that's not running while falling - that I've got covered) these road shoes were more than capable of getting me between points A and B, and multiple times over as required.  I found my footing to be acceptably stable, and the FFEs provided plenty of comfort for hour upon hour of trail tromping.

With this in mind I plan on using the FFE as my primary treads when I take on the Hallucination 100 miler next Friday just outside of Hell, Michigan (for real folks).  I'll bring some trail shoes as backups since I've been advised that having extra shoes on hand is always wise for a hundie, but armed with the knowledge that I was able to get through 100km in the FFE blister-free (and retaining the original colour in all my toenails I might add) who knows whether or not I'll need to perform a mid-race swap.

Does that mean that I'm giving up on trail shoes?

Nope.  

I think that trail shoes will still be handy just for the fact that they'll give my road shoes a rest and they may stimulate my feet and legs in a slightly different manner.  That and my trail shoes are my go-tos for winter running traction.

Anyone else have further thoughts or comments on the necessity of trail shoes?  Hit me up in the comments - I'm always open to learning as I bumble and fumble my way stride after stride!

** I received a complimentary pair of the Forever Floatride Energy directly from Reebok Canada, and am under no obligation (contractual or otherwise) to endorse their products on this blog.  All opinions expressed - however poorly - are voluntary and entirely my own.

Are trail running shoes overrated?

Taking a thrashing at the 2019 Sulphur Springs Trail Run (50 mile race report)

I contemplated titling this post "Confessions of a Perpetual Overtrainer".

Whatever you want to call it, this year's edition of the Sulphur Springs Trail Run was nothing short of ridiculously awful.  Still, I lived to tell the tale, and would recommend it to anyone who'd care to give it a shot.

My second ultramarathon-distance race of the year turned out (yet again!) to be not just a test of endurance but an environmental challenge ... last month it was the snow and wind, and this time around it was the thunder, lightning, copious amounts of rain and subsequent pits of mud.  As my friend Tyler (who finished 3rd overall for the 50-mile distance) described it, the course offered up 1/3 of its trail as an experience of running through glue.  I would amend that and say that it was some devious combination of glue and Crisco.  Imagine combining an ultramarathon with mud-wrestling, and you'll understand how I (and about 1200 other people) spent our Saturday.

To be fair, I had a great first loop running with my friend Nick Wagner whom I hadn't seen since the 2016 EndurRUN.  Back in 2016 Nick hadn't yet run anything beyond a half-marathon in terms of distance, but now he was an experienced ultramarathoner with at least one 100k race under his belt.  I remember how strong a runner he was a few years ago, and he's only become fitter and more durable since then.  We had a great 25k or so chatting it up and busting along not-yet-damp footing until I got a pebble in my shoe and had to stop to extricate it - I insisted that he continue forward, and while I was able to keep him within visual distance after starting up again I was never able to catch back up.

It wasn't long after that that the monsoon rains hit in the midst of what may well have been a severe thunderstorm warning.  Of course this transformed the softer ground into tarpits, and while I was able to continue to stubbornly plug away it was at about 35k that I weebled-and-wobbled my way into a groin pull while trying to maintain my balance on one particularly greasy section.  I knew pretty quickly that this didn't bode well.

During the third loop my knees felt wrecked, my inner thighs overdone, and I was walking a significant portion of the loop.  I seriously wanted to pull the plug after 60k but told myself that if I did that then there'd be no way that I'd have any hope of making it through a 100-miler ... so I resolved that even if it meant walking through the entire final 20k I'd finish this race.  Two things helped me to see this resolution through:  (1) the spring roll at aid station #3 was an out-of-body experience at 53k, and (2) the thought that if I could get done by 6pm I'd have a hope of making it back in time for the game 6 tip-off between the Toronto Raptors and the Milwaukee Bucks.

I have to say that having given myself that bit of margin was a real relief, and even though I saw many people passing me by (even the 50-mile winner lapped me with about 50 metres left to the start/finish line) I was content to just to try to pack the training miles in.  I approached each long tract of mud with trepidation as I was concerned about doing any kind of serious damage that might jeopardize the next couple months' worth of running and racing.  Plodding my way along I was also grateful to cross paths with Sherman Lam (a former Running Free teammate) at 73k - his positive attitude and trekking poles helped pace me through the next 5k or so, and I finally finished a shade over 11 hours.

Half-baked ramblings after hobbling my way to the car post-race

The long car ride home was made even longer by torrential rains that brought Hwy. 403 to a crawl between Hamilton and Oakville, so a 90 min. drive had an extra hour tacked on to that because of the weather.  So running or automobiling, the environmental conditions had my number that day.

I've now given myself a few days off of running this week to try to be ready to contribute to the Team Reebok effort at the Ragnar Relay - Niagara event starting tomorrow.  I'll be running as part of the 'ultra' team, so each of our 6 members will have 6 legs of the course to do (ballpark of about 50 km as the total distance from Cobourg to Niagara Falls is 306 km).  The only snag in this whole 'week of recovery' plan was going out last night for an easy trail run with the RunNinjas only to have turned my ankle for the first time all year leading to what quite possibly is a moderate strain of the extensor digitorum brevis muscle.  

Pain cave, once again here I come.

Taking a thrashing at the 2019 Sulphur Springs Trail Run (50 mile race report)

From PYP 2019 (50k) to Sulphur Springs 2019 (50 miler)

It's T-minus 20 hours until the start of my second-ever 50 mile race ... and boy, do I ever feel underpowered.

Just about a month ago I completed the first ultra on my race calendar for 2019, the Pick Your Poison Trail Run. There's so much to like about it - a hometown race, early enough in the year to keep you motivated for winter training, plenty of elevation changes, scenic trails and fabulous goodies (the jar of honey at packet pick-up and the pair of socks at the finish line) - but this year it proved to be a doozie of a day with wicked winds and snow greeting competitors first thing in the morning.

Feeling like I've pulled into the base camp for an ascent of Mt. Everest!

 

Yup ... I could just stay cozy inside the chalet all morning ...

Knowing that I was approaching this event as a 'training day' (with my long-term preparation for the Hallucination 100 mile run in view) I wanted to do my best to exercise restraint and hold a controlled and manageable pace throughout this run.  However, the formula of snowy trails + 375 runners equalled major mud + packed ice by the time that loops 3 and 4 (each loop being 12.5k) came around, so it felt more like a "how can I get through this uninjured" type of day.  All in all though it turned out to be quite survivable, even enjoyable given the company along the route, great encouragement from spectating crowds and unbelievable support from the folks who willingly braved the elements to staff the aid stations.  I was happy to walk away with a 6:09 finish time, and four reasonably even split times for each loop.

A quick post-event video rundown!

Now I get to stretch out my trail running legs a bit longer - the last time that I took on Sulphur Springs was four years ago for the 50k distance, so this will definitely be a tougher test distance-wise, compounded by the forecast of thunderstorms.

Got my gels, pizza, cupcakes and cinnamon buns packed - let's do this thing!

From PYP 2019 (50k) to Sulphur Springs 2019 (50 miler)

Race report - 2017 Pick Your Poison Trail Run (50k)

It wasn't until about 2.5k into the start of the race that I noticed that my shoelaces weren't even actually tied.

And so began my day traversing the hills of Horseshoe Valley.

Pre-race
For a number of years I'd heard about, seen and wanted to participate in the Pick Your Poison Trail Run.  As a backyard event (only about 20 min. away from my house) it always seemed like it would be a natural race for me to take in ... but because of its placement on the calendar it always seemed to conflict with my intentions of getting in a strong spring marathon.  However, with my resolution to not race a marathon for myself this year the month of April was wide open so it became one of the first events to be plotted on my timetable.

Initially my thoughts were to just get out there and run this course to enjoy it ... but alas the competitive side of me usually commandeers the best of my intentions.  In any event, I've spent the majority of my spring training for shorter, faster races so I basically had just over two weeks to try to ensure that my mileage was sufficient to not require an evacuation off of one of the ski runs.

In terms of the pre-race communication there wasn't much by way of direct emails - it seemed to be pretty much left up to the individual participant to check in on the website or the Facebook page.  In fact, I wouldn't have even known about the pre-race day packet pick-up had it not been for my friend Mariana letting me know that she had spied an update regarding that option on the FB page.

Communications aside, the actual nabbing of the kit at the 'expo' was a piece of cake - I would have been in and out with my bib, t-shirt, complimentary jar of honey and running magazine in a matter of seconds had I not run into Mariana, Crystal, Cher and Nancy who were all there at the same time collecting their goodies.

I gotta say that leading up to race day I was feeling really good - like I could be competitive in this event, at least given the results posted from last year's race.  And since distance running is such a mental game I felt like I had an edge, perhaps for the first time in a long time (ever??).  That had me raring to go.

Bring on the 50k! #RunNinjas #golikeneverbefore #getyourmilesin #haveafastday #pickyourpoison #ultrastoked

A post shared by Patrick Voo (@pbfvoo) on Apr 28, 2017 at 5:10pm PDT

The race I arrived my customary 60 min. prior to gun time partly to ensure that I secured a decent parking spot but also to try to connect with a slew of people who I'd known were going to be running the race.  A good number of my RunNinja mates, ENDURrun comrades, Barrie Trail Running Clubbers and some folks reppin' my former Team Running Free colours were all going to step up to tackle the ski hills with me, and I was excited to say "hey" and offer some words of encouragement and support.  It also helped me to chat with several of them who knew the course, and even to check in with them on what they planned to wear as I was somewhat indecisive as to how many layers to don (the temps were just above 1°C with the windchill at the start).

We RunNinjas run these hills!

Being that I wanted to not get caught in any kind of conga line along single-track early in the race (hmm ... fatal error #1 perhaps ...?) I lined up near the front of the mass start.  I should have kept in mind that all three distances - 12.5k, 25k and 50k - were going out at the same time, so there would be people gunning at paces that would be sustainable for one loop, but perhaps not so much for four. 

Alas, I did not pay much heed to that.

[ Loop 1 ]
Since the course starts out for a pretty flat 3k or so I went out at a pace that felt strong but sustainable.  However as anyone who's race a marathon knows that 'early feel good' pace is almost certainly faster than it should be - and sure enough I bumped out a 4:03 first kilometre, just about 90s faster than my planned per-kilometre race pace.  Things slowed after that as we were winding through single track ... and somewhere around 2.5k as I was staring at the shoes on the person in front of me I wondered why my feet were feeling so sloppy in my Skechers GOTrail shoes.  I know I'd selected these so that there'd be a bit more space for my feet to swell (I'd swapped in a thinner pair of insoles) but I also laced them up to take advantage of the heel-lock holes at the top ... but you know what I saw when I looked down?

That I'd forgotten to actually tie up my laces.

So just before the trail started to climb up I stopped in a double-track area to stoop over and properly secure my shoes to my feet.  Now of course having stopped and watched several runners pass me by while tying my laces I felt that inherent need to make up some ground.  #Imadoofus

Aside from one patch of muddy trail that extended for about 500m or so - an obvious area of spring run-off halfway up the side of a hill - the trail was in really good shape.  I power-hiked most of the significant climbs, but felt good enough (yeah, at that point!) to jog up one of them in order to try to claim a few extra spots.  Please kids, don't do this at home. 

Time:  1:09:02 (24th spot out of all runners, all distances)

[ Loop 2 ]
Having felt significantly warm at points during the first loop I made the decision to shed my t-shirt layer as I paused to collect more gels from my drop-bag on the other side of the start-finish line.  That left me with just a singlet and arm warmers on top which ended up serving me just fine (although there were still some really chilly winds to contend with plus a UV factor that I hadn't accounted for ... #firstsunburnof2017).

I continued to feel strong through the second loop, running sections of it with another guy named Sean, a long and lean runner with an effortless stride.  We played 'leapfrog' in various sections as he'd stop at the aid stations while I decided to power through (mindlessly forgetting to take in electrolytes just about all day).  One of the best parts of each loop was passing cheerleader/drill sargeant extraordinaire Mary Mitchell who hollered encouragement while strategically placed at a viewing point where she could observe runners climbing two incline sections.  Her energy definitely provided a mental boost while at the same time providing sufficient motivation to get beyond her field of vision just so you could return to a powerhike/walk stride. :)

Time:  1:13:14 (totalling 2:22:16 for two loops, which would have been good enough for 12th overall in the 25k division)

[ Loop 3 ]
I began to worry about Sean as we started the third loop as he was out of sight in front of me when I passed through the start/finish/lap area but I caught up to him walking at around the 28k mark.  He indicated that all was good so I passed by him expecting that this would be just another leapfrog moment - except that I would not see him again until after I finished my race.

Although I was still feeling reasonably good I definitely was powerhiking longer sections of each incline and the downhills were being tackled with a little more hesitation.  This would be a precursor to what was going to follow, but in my head I was still on track to nail a sub-5 hour time and I wanted to keep that frame of mind going as long as possible.

The mud bog run-off section of the course was now becoming something that you'd expect to see in a Spartan/Warrior Dash kind of obstacle race.  Even trying to catch the most solid-looking of paths my shoe was nearly suctioned right off of my foot twice during this pass, but again I was grateful that the Skechers GO Trails shed the extra moisture and mud weight quickly.

One of the biggest victories during this lap was that I didn't let anyone pass me - I knew that we would all be slowing down to some degree, and I just hoped that I could keep my placing as long as possible.

Time:  1:21:27 (still 13th fastest for this loop)

[ Loop 4 ]
Annndddd here's where the wheels came right off.

The flat section was still quite manageable, with opportunities to start to lap some of the slower 50k runners.  This also provided a tremendous ego lift, which lasted until I started to ascend the hills.

My quads were all but done.  I was reduced to shuffling speeds on any positive or negative grade.  I'd managed my fueling reasonably well (missing electrolyte drinks aside), taking my Endurance Tap gels about every 25 min., one salt tablet each loop and using a full handheld Nathan waterbottle over each 12.5k.  I felt as if my cardio was still strong, but them stubby legs of mine were not strong enough to keep up a running pace.  It was humbling to start getting passed by other runners, dropping spots that I'd hoped to hold on to.  There was even a moment when someone yelled my name from about 200m back (and 60m below) - it was Chad, who had jokingly said that he would try to just tie a rope to me and try to keep up over the 50k.  Well, sure enough at 46k he caught up to me and was still prancing along fresh enough to out-stride me up the last few climb sections.  If neither speed nor strength nor strategy are part of my arsenal I can claim that sheer force of will certainly is, and that is what got me down the final ski run and across the finish line.

Time:  1:37:16 (total time 5:20:59, securing 17th spot overall)

[ Photo credit:  Rhonda Stickle ]

Post-race
After being handed the much-renowned finisher's socks I collected my drop bag and donned some warmer clothing from my car.  Heading back to the chalet and past the start/finish/lap area I spied Sean who'd finished a mere six minutes behind me, and just let him know that I was glad that he'd not been taken out by the course.

There was a small meal available for all of the competitors and I took advantage of nabbing a vegan burger (which was super yummy and surprisingly palatable after a day full of maple syrup gels) and a giant oatmeal cookie which got tucked away for later.  I spent a little bit of time in the chalet chatting it up with some of my Barrie running friends before calling it a day and heading back home for a much needed and long awaited ... chore of taking down all of our exterior Christmas lights.

Key learnings
There were a number of takeaways from this day's event for me:

1. No matter how much experience you have you're still susceptible to rookie mistakes:  Yes, I shot out of the gate way too fast.  Even though my friend (and formidable ultramarathoner) Bill Lovett expressly advised me to take the first loop easy I let ego and adrenaline get the best of me.  Anyone who knows anything about ultrarunning knows that the smartest runner in an event like this is the one who slows down the least, and today that was not me.
2. Tapering makes a difference:  And had I actually tapered I might have benefited from it.  I wandered into this race off of a 105km training week, a total of about a 4.5% taper from the week before and about 12% less than my highest training mileage over the past few months.  As much as I would like to think that I can be Yuki Kawauchi, there can only be one Yuki.
3. Respect the downhills more:  On the first two loops I basically bombed down each hill, and by the fourth loop I felt like I had been bombed by every hill.  Even though time is available to be made up on the descents I need to be a bit more conservative knowing that my legs are not strong enough to take that kind of continuous pounding.  Again, Kilian Jornet I am not.
4. Mental toughness can only get you so far:  It's definitely something that I pride myself on, and that I feel I develop by training throughout the dead-of-winter months here in Barrie, Ontario.  But I think of how I'd passed up at least one opportunity to run the PYP trail in the weeks leading up to the event and how that could have gone a long way in helping me to anticipate how to tackle the various segments of the loop.  My almost complete ignorance of the course itself may have just one more variable contributing to a less-than-desired outcome.

After all was said and done though it was a pretty solid day's worth of exercise.  The course was supremely well-marked - I never had any concern of getting lost, even during those short stints where I found myself alone in the forest.  The volunteers were very helpful, and the organization on race day pretty superb.  I may not be quick to sign up again in the next couple of years as I plan to take on spring marathons again, but it's definitely a race that I'm happy to recommend to anyone who wants to test themselves and take in a great part of the province.

Race gear used:

• Skechers Performance Division racerback singlet and split shorts
• Skechers GOTrail
• Polaroid PLD 3011/S sunglasses
• Running Room no-show socks
• Zensah compression calf sleeves
• Garmin Forerunner 305
• Endurance Tap energy gels
• Nathan Quickdraw Elite handheld bottle
• Original SPIbelt

Race report - 2017 Pick Your Poison Trail Run (50k)