Race Report: 5 Peaks Buntzen Lake Enduro Course

5 Peaks: Road, what road?!

Where the hell is my winter gear?! Yes, Summer has left the building faster than Adam Campbell can run 50 miles (which is pretty damn fast). Speaking of Adam, he’s warming up on the soggy grass beside the beach, and we get to have a quick little chat before he seeds into the 1^st wave and I seed into the 3^rd wave.

It seems that all the usual suspects have shown up for the race, including some of the elites, the 5 Peaks Ladies of the Trail (Solana’s blog is here), and our We Run Mas crew, today consisting of Darren Gladeau, Joseph Pelle, Jerome Wasilieff, and yours truly. My wife and kids play the photo/support crew, and Elaine Fung is marshalling the course in two areas for the day.

Jerome, Darren, Joseph, Ed

As you can tell from the pics, it’s wet, windy and cold. I overdress with a base layer, sleeves, gloves, a tech shirt and a wind breaker, toque, and calf sleeves. The body heat from the runners generates a layer of steam as the countdown begins. It’s about 50 runners per seed, and Joseph and I are intending for seed #3. We reach the front and I’m already cooking, so as we burst out of the start line, I toss my toque to my wife who captures this great shot; dude beside me is loving life!

Toque Toss

Joseph asking Elaine for directions . . .

The start is fast, and I have one goal, to get ahead of the people who are going to slow me down on the downhill. Tactical issue number uno is that the course starts on the Energy trail, which basically climbs up and then descends before crossing the floating bridge. I push my personal pace (I know, I know, don’t do that) and coast past a few people, fitting into a nice stride with Greg. I notice that Greg has a very nice cadence going, and has calves the size of my quadriceps. I expect to lose him when we hit the hill. Meanwhile, Joseph gets ahead, and I lose him as we approach the bridge.

I keep pace with Greg until we hit the power lines, as the FU George Hill takes a piece of me with it (and yes the FU stands for F**k You because on the Diez Vista 50k Ultra it’s the last climb at kilometer 46 or so). For those following along, I’m not a strong climber; improving but not at capacity yet, and I don’t normally wear calf sleeves. I find them too inhibiting, but changed my mind today so that in case I wiped out on the slick course, I would be able to work a ten hour shift later that day without bandages impeding my career.

As expected, I get passed on the switchbacks heading up to 1700’ feet, and Solana comes up and we encourage each other before she floats off into the distance. I’m not too concerned about being passed here, since it’s all part of the plan. My goal is to ensure that not TOO many people pass me as I don’t want to get jammed up on the single track technical descents, where I intend to open up the gears. On the way up to the peak of the climb, I have taken off my wind breaker since I’m steaming up and getting way too hot. I tie it around my waist, and am trying madly to figure out how to keep the sleeves tucked in so they don’t catch my flailing arms and feet as I start the downhill.

I got picked off by about twelve people on the ascent, and start returning the favour to my gluteus and calf gifted fellow racers as I hit a trajectory somewhere between madly irresponsible and insane on the reckless scale ™. The trail is a jumble of roots, jagged rocks and puddles with questionable interests.

We pass each look out and I’m charging past people, calling out “On your left” as I go. I finally reach Solana again and zip past her , but I don’t think I kept the gap low enough to stay ahead for too long. Regardless, I’m having fun and giver another shout out. We’re not far from the last of the “good” look outs (it’s all clouds and mist) and I know there’s some rolling ups and downs after this section. Solana and another runner (who on the results list is named Sanjay) have been yo-yo’ing me for the majority of the run, and once again get ahead. My calves are hurting really bad. It’s definitely the calf sleeves and I vow to never run in them again. The only other niggly area that hurts is my left arch and ankle, which I sprained the week before Squamish 50. It’s taped, but reminding me that it’s still there. Neither are impeding my progress, but a recovery week will be required.

Diez Vista North Side

The far north end of the Diez Vista is a treacherously steep, jaggedly rocky and less forgiving than the God of the Old Testament in regards to any missteps or falls. So, as I catch a toe and go into a head first dive I decide to jump instead, get my feet underneath me and long jump off a ridge onto a muddy slope, which gives way under my heels and I slide for about ten feet before grabbing a rock and a tree with my gloved hands and straddle my way through a gap, before I keep running. There’s a runner behind me who saw my agile recovery that relied more on luck and complete abandon for my personal safety, and he hollers out if I’m okay. Thumbs up, and still going. As we cross some logs before the exit of this section, he takes a tumble and I hear a sploosh as he hits the puddle. I spin around and ask if he needs help as he dusts himself off. All good, and we kick out of the trail on the north side of the reservoir. I see Solana up ahead, and am pleased I made up some time. However, I don’t have too much pop in my step on the flat and non-technical sections. This is largely due to having run a (flat) trail half marathon at the Trail River Run six days prior to this race where I set a half PR of 1:42:17 (woo hoo!!) and placed 10^th overall. Today, I coast along with slightly heavy legs due to that effort and Sanjay catches up and stays just ahead of me as we cross the bridge to North Beach.

Feeling mildly calorie deprived, I take a shot of Vega something or other at the aid station and truck along the beach allowing it to take hold. I’m at 1:33 on my Garmin and I’m sceptical that today is the day I`ll run to the finish in 27 minutes for a sub 2 hour finale. The little climb to the service road before hitting east side Buntzen trail is oddly steeper today than it was a few weeks ago, and I realize I’ll probably be walking the remainder of the hills, of which two small ones are yet to come.

I coast along, pushing on the descents, since they don`t seem to be an issue, running everything uphill that is 75 steps or less, and power hiking the two climbs (which aren`t really climbs in the grand scheme of things, my legs are just fatigued). I catch up to a few other runners who passed me earlier, including dreadlock girl, but with a kilometre remaining, I don`t think I can close the distance since she is clearly in “kick” mode also. Sanjay is a few strides ahead also, and funnily enough I`m thinking, `Too bad this race wasn`t a little bit longer!``

We pass the dog park, I see Elaine, and she snaps a photo while marshalling us to the left with her right hand as she faces north east (inside joke), as we cross the little bridge and run across the grass to the finish line. Cheers from the crowd, the announcer calls me in, and I miss catching dreadlock girl by seconds. Exciting!

Overall I placed 76^th out of 143 racers and 23^rd out of 35 in the 30-39 age group with a time of 2:04:23.  Yes, my mid-pack race status for 2013 is cemented!

Our fellow We Run Mas crew did awesome also. Darren, who has been having a killer year having run fabulously at Squamish 50 and Meet Your Maker 50 killed the course today in 1:41:48 (and is expecting a baby in two weeks!). 

Darren's Finish

Soon to be parents!

 Joseph finished just slightly ahead of me in 1:57:43, having had some pain in the last few kilometers, and Jerome, who completes his first technical trail race rocks in at 2:22:02.

Joseph's Finish (walking on air)

Jerome's Finish

That was my final trail race of the season (I have the paved Turkey Trot 10k on Thanksgiving), and it was a great way to finish the season. I wish I could do more 5 Peaks runs, as it’s a great event, and I had a blast on one of my favourite local trails.

We be ballin'!

Next up is my wife’s Hallows Eve run on Oct 27^th, where she tackles a difficult half marathon in Lynn Valley! This time, I get to play the support crew and the boys and I are looking to spook her when she least expects it!! Expect her post run interview on an upcoming blog post, as well as a recount of the adventure we did in Hanes Valley in September!

Leave a comment and see you next time!

Nutrition: The Power of Puking

Nutrition: As you guys know, I'm having puking issues. Yes, I'm a puker . . . at least it's seeming like this is the way it's going.
Generally, just before it happens, my pace drops off, my nausea steps in, and then within fifteen minutes it's heaving trail side. I was okay with the idea in the 30+k range, but it seems to be happening sooner, so I'm looking to experiment on how to get past it and am following both Dr Phil Maffetone and Dr Tim Noakes methods of science versus dogma.

Here's what I know to date:
1. I like water only as my primary fluid.
2. I am not taking anymore salt pills, but am taking e-caps for salt flavor when I feel like it (which apparently triggers the brain versus physiological effects with muscles)
3. I have had success with Vitargo S2 as a carb fluid, and will return to using it. I have not used it for a while, largely due to the fact that I wanted to keep an extra hand free, but I think if I use a different bottle that fits into my Salomon vest, that will work.
4. Gels make me hurl. I have some Hammer gels that I will share on the trails for goodwill. I'm keeping the Espresso ones.
5. I like Clif Shot Bloks, until I get nauseous. I think a mix of those and Honey Stingers will be good.
6. At actual "lunch time" I think I need some solid food. I also like food with crunch, so some potato chips or corn chips, and either nuggets or a cheeseburger is a must have.
7. TUMS: I always forget to pack TUMS. Don't forget to pack TUMS . . .

Here's what I DON'T know:
1. Why I am puking - problem.
2. What calorie/sugar intake is going to work into the 4 hour + range for runs. That seems to be the "trigger" point, regardless of distance.
3. How to keep ingesting once puking happens, since inevitably a bonk will follow.
4. Relieving stomach "cramping" just before or just after puking. Feels like stitch but has more to do with the gastro issue than muscular failure. I have good core strength and stability.

Things that aren't an issue:
1. Headaches - I don't get them anymore. Thank Jay Z!
2. Leg pain - I can deal with it. Strength will develop with time.
3. Hydration - I'm not too concerned since I will drink to thirst, versus a prescribed schedule.

Add or comment to the discussion, and share what you've learned or learn from what is shared.

Cheers!

Upcoming Races: 2013 + 2014 Hit List

Here is a list of upcoming Races and Long Runs for 2013:

Aug 26th: 27km - My Redemption Run. I'm doing the last 27km of the SQ50 from where I DNF'd to the finish line.

September 8th: 30k - Hane's Valley Loop (Long Run)

Sept 15: 10k - Terry Fox Hometown Run! 

Sept 22: 21.1k - Trail River Run Half Marathon

Sept 28: 15k - Diez Vista/Buntzen Lake Enduro Course

Oct 14: 10k - Turkey Trot (Gobble Gobble)

Oct 27: 21k +/- Hallow's Eve Half Marathon (I am not racing this, but it's my wife's first official half!)

2014 Hit List:

Chuckanut 50k or Diez Vista 50k (apparently they are a week apart in 2014)

Iron Knee 24k

Squamish 50 Orientation Runs 

Knee Knacker 30 mile (volunteer)

Squamish 50 (50 mile)

Terry Fox Hometown 10k

Trail River Run 21k

Diez Vista 15k Enduro

Turkey Trot 10k

Hallow's Eve 42k

New York City Marathon with Team Fox 42k

Squamish 50: Race Report

Aug 10 - 2013

I'm gonna jump right into this one . . .

5:30 am :

Spooky

We're lined up at the start area and Gary Robbins is counting down to GO! except he forget the order of the numbers when counting backwards (which is hilarious). Somehow he gets to ONE and we're off!

That's me on the far left of the frame in blue throwing up the shakalaka

Darryl and I keep pace as Lucien gives us high fives!

Darryl and I set into a rhythm early on keeping a low six minute pace per kilometer in the beginning, which is perfect for the game plan I have set out. Speaking of which, here's my game plan (which aside from the actual arrival times, is very similar to Mike Murphy's):

1. Keep an easy effort until Quest (km 53) ETA 1:30

2. Walk the hills

3. Take it easy on the downhills (don't wreck the legs)

4. Once I get to Angry Midget, push with whatever is left

5. Eat, Drink and Be Merry all day!

6:15 am:

Darryl and I both take a pee break (not together, but at the same time - don't get all weird - it's trail running people).  Little did I know it would be the last time I would pee in the race. Not a good thing, since I normally pee a lot on runs and hate the time it eats up in doing so. Well, wish granted, consequences to come.

A girl comes out of the woods on the other side, and says, "Ed! It's me . . . Lisa!" Except she didn't say Lisa, she said Linda, and I'm thinking wow, she looks like Linda, but she said Lisa. Weird. We start to run together, and a dude named Pablo keeps pace with us for a bit. I ask Lisa if she's run the course, and she says, "Umm, yea, I was flagging yesterday . . ." and I very tactfully say, "Yea that's what I meant!" realizing that it is in fact Linda and not a doppelganger. These things happen when you wake up at 4am. Sorry Linda. Anyway, we have a great chat about life and love (she's engaged to Gary) and come into Aid Station #1 together.

Linda Barton (aka Lisa, aka soon to be Linda Robbins) and I

6:36 am: 

I'm feeling great. I'm running a steady pace with low effort with some great people. My wife and boys are there and I do a shoe change amidst some superb signs they made. Why a shoe change so quick? Well, I sprained my ankle five days prior and the North Face Ultra Glides are way better for flat running than my Salomon XT-5's. #strategy

Shoe change and my awesome kids

This is what's inside my left foot.

KT Tape for the win

A bunch of us leave Aid Station #1 together and we hit the Coho Trail heading into Debeck's hill. Gregan, from We Run Mas, had some fun signs up, but I have no pictures sadly. 

An odd thing happens and I catch myself before it turns against me: I have dropped Linda, Darryl and Pablo on the trail. This is not a good thing. They have all run multiple Ultras. I have run ZERO, but have done Ultra distance in training (read as: not the same thing). I pull back the effort and they catch up on the climb. #strategy

A whole gang of us reach the top together and we're ready to drop into the 1st descent. At this point, I have just a hand bottle and gels. Even when I'm taking it easy, I have a hard time going slowly downhill. Not because I'm being foolish, but I tend to roll my feet if I'm not moving with some sort of dance-like momentum. Linda lets me pass and reminds me to save my legs, which I always appreciate hearing from the pros. I catch up to Carolyn, and zip past her also. I'm sweating a lot. More than normal. First sign that something inside my body is malfunctioning. I've run harder and more aggressive than this, and I'm purposely keeping it mellow since 80k is a long way to go!

I feel fresh outside of the intense sweating. I run into Alice Lake. Aid Station #2 . .  . 18k complete

8:15 am:

Running into Alice Lake feeling GREAT!

The Aid Station is awesome and my boys have more signs.

I'm WAY to sweaty at this point. Hmm . . .

 Linda, Darryl, Carolyn and Pablo all converge as we take in some fuel. I grab my pack and ditch some weight, since I now have a sense of how much fuel the stations have. I also dump half my bladder sleeve to drop weight.

Dumping fuel. Carolyn surveys the buffet.

Mmm, food. Awesome stations by Gary and Geoff (RD's)

One of my goals was to not spend more time at Aid Stations than is necessary. I'm right on schedule according to my estimates, and then I see the pros all leave. Woah, let's get going!

Hey, wait for me . . . I'm a white belt at this sport!!

Carolyn and I run pace together along the lakeside and she mentions that she thinks her pace is going too quick. When we hit the road leading to Stump Lake, she pulls back and I'm loosely following the Linda, Darryl, Pablo team, plus a couple other runners, with Carolyn close behind. I see Emma Lee marshaling and we high five (she sadly had to drop last week due to a knee injury).

Stump lake section is good, and we hit the memorial trail. My HR monitor is bothering me. It's not actually the strap, my chest is tightening, I just don't know it yet. I fiddle with for a few kilometers to no avail. I keep taking in gels to stay on top of nutrition. We reach the switchbacks that head up to Corners (Aid Station #3). As we climb up, Carolyn passes me as I pull a hamstring cramp. Manageable, but I stretch it out to prevent it from getting rough. "One of many issues that'll happen today, " Carolyn says. Indeed.

9:15 am: 

I pull into Aid Station #3 and it's like a scene in a movie where the bay doors open and there's space ships and vehicles and service crew all over the place, It's got a ton of food: coke, drinks, gels, with drop bags organized in rows, photographers, support crews, volunteers and of course runners. I feel like a pilot on a mission as I wheel in. Carolyn offers some cramp relief and finds a trigger point in my leg which relaxes the hamstring cramp. She then takes off. I hope to catch up with her soon. It doesn't happen.

I eat some oranges, watermelon and drink up. Replenish the hand bottle. I feel like I'm doing everything right. Taking in salt, watching pace, basically running a smart race.

I thank the volunteers and tell 'em I'll see them after doing the Edith Lake Loop. Now for some reason, in any training run I've ever done on this particular trail, this loop hates me, no matter what distance I started at. Things weren't about to change.

Problem #1: I pull a calf cramp on the way into the loop.

Problem #2: I get bit by something, again! (deja vu from previous blog post)

Problem #3: I feel nauseous.

Life is about solutions so here goes:

Solution #1: Massage and stretch the calf. Take two salt pills.

Solution #2: Threaten the bugs

Solution #3: Drink water.

9:50 am: I run along the lakeside before the climb to Entrails and see my family for moral support and cheer squad goodness. Simone says Darryl and Carolyn just passed through maybe ten minutes. That's a good feeling. 

After some quick hugs, I head up the climb. That's when Problem #3 from above evolves into Disaster #3. I'm almost at the top of this short but reasonably steep climb when I lurch forward and start vomiting. Okay, I think. This is normal for Ultra running. It's getting warm, I'm hot and exerting energy, just clear the stomach and let it out. Nothing comes out but fluid. Two female runners come up the trail and ask how I'm doing. "Stomach I say . . . need a reset." They offer me some chewable salt tabs and I run with them for a bit. Not wanting to vomit on anyone's shoes, I let them get a bit ahead, stop and let go another round. I catch up to them just as we start to descend Entrails and once again I get in front and start skipping down the trail. Entrails is very precarious with some big steep drops, so I slide down them and jump and run the rest. I feel another one coming on . . . resist it and take a salt. Small sip of water. Keep descending. Almost there. I reach the bottom and I get that full body vomit sensation that radiates up from the legs. My salt friend gives me three more discs to carry for later, and they slip out of the trail and kick out onto the climb back to Aid Station #3 (we hit it twice for 50 milers).

Two more runners come up and pass me on this section. I feel myself struggling. Chest is tight. I think it's because of throwing up (it's not, but it's all I can think of), and loosen the Salomon pack straps to relive some pressure.

I monitor my heart rate and keep it sub 150 bpm on the climb back to Corners. I chat with a redheaded fireman from Alberta, but he's about ten feet taller than me and I can't keep his stride. I see him at Corner's and Scheisse approach later on.

I reach Aid Station #3 . . . kilometer 38 complete.

11:10 am: 

I'm about 20 minutes behind my ETA for this section, but that's survivable. I need to fuel. I know I lost some energy in my vomit sessions, so regaining that is key to the next session, which has a big climb (3000 feet) , a major descent, (10k of steep downhill) and then post Quest (Aid Station #5) another climb (2200 feet).

I take in watermelon, some sweets for sugar, and drink coke and water. Normally by this time I would have peed, and I am now conscious of the fact that I haven't. I'm perplexed why this is happening, as I've been smart with my run, understanding and accepting odd things can and do happen, but it's still odd. 

A photographer named Dave massages my right calf out, which relieves the cramping there. Thanks Dave! I grab some gels for the climb and leave after about a ten minute break. 

Off to Scheisse! I am overwhelmed. My chest hurts, I'm having troubles breathing, I am sweating profusely, my stomach is revolting, and everybody is being so damn nice! People are awesome, They genuinely care. Perfect strangers are massaging my leg and feeding me food. I send this text to my wife as I depart Corners. 

She is THE best!!

   

I have to get my mind off this curveball I've been thrown. Remember, the goal is to FINISH! I pop in the headphones, start my playlist and start to sob. No tears, just sobbing. 

I reach the Base of Scheisse. In I go. It starts to rain. For about two minutes. Darn, that would have felt great!

11:30 am:

Climbing this mountain is hard. I had a superb climb up it three weeks ago on a 34k training run, but today is different. I can't breathe. A half breath is all I've got. Standing upright causes my chest to seize. I'm reduced to a snail's pace. The ironic thing: my legs are fine. Sore, of course, I've just gone marathon distance, but fine. Functioning, responsive, minor but manageable cramps, arms are good, no headache. I just can't breathe. I try to eat. Vomit. That's  puke number five if you're keeping count.

I grab a stick and use it to keep me upright. Two runners pass. I lean against a tree with my arms and close my eyes. Another runner comes up. She's struggling, asks if I need anything. And carries on. Another runner comes up. I'm taking three steps, and then a breath. A stop, three steps, and then a breath. Stop. All the way to the top. Garmin reads 3200 feet. I take my heart rate monitor off. With my chest constricting, it's the last thing I need.

I run down to the water and start cooling off. Wet my hat, splash my shirt and shorts and carry on. 

Just before the descent starts, I take an Espresso Hammer gel. I keep it down! Awesome, maybe I'm coming out this slump.

1:00 PM:

I start down the hill. I stop to stretch the legs and there are flies everywhere! Keep running. They bite and they hurt.

I reach a corner and there's a photographer there! Cool. I rip off the hat, beam a big smile for the shot and turn the corner of the trail. Smile disappears. Down Powersmart I go, steady but slower than normal. My legs can carry me, that's not an issue. Cramping is not so bad. I just can't breathe and my heart is pounding. Three weeks ago I came down this section very fast with Charles Yuen (who is doing Fat Dog next week - go Charles!), and maintained an even 150 bpm. The thudding in my chest says that's not the case today.

Regardless I hoot and holler down the trail. Might as well have fun in agony.

I really wanted to reach Quest by 1:30 pm, but I know I'm off pace and slowing down. That's fine. Expected. Carry on.

I reach Aid Station #4  . . . kilometer 48.

1:15 PM:

There's a very fit looking runner there! Yes. I can run with someone to help me stay focused, I come in and ask how his race is going. He says it's rough and that he's beat up. I concur and despite the volunteer saying I look good, I feel like a bag of crap. I stand there and try to breathe. Drink water, eat a gel (only get part of it down),  and ask when he's planning on leaving. That's when he says he's not running: he's dropped for the day. My heart sinks. Shit, how am I going to run solo into Quest with this breathing issue. That's when Kelly and Eric arrive. They're a mountaineering couple, and are looking decent. I ask if I can run in with them to Quest, and we do so. Eric gives me some Honey Stingers Berry flavor (delicious!)

Kelly is a trail running cheerleader! She's yelling out words of encouragement as we traipse down the trail. I'm distracted by their stories, and let it just flow. On the flats and downs, I'm doing okay because the pace is steady and slow, so it doesn't burden breathing too much. 

Then we hit the last little climb and that's it. Vomit number 6. I know I'm done. Kelly and Eric disappear with a fading "Keep going Ed!". The sections to come are very familiar to me, including Garibaldi climb to Angry Midget (exposed, hot, and hard on a good day, let alone with no oxygen intake). Something is going on that I can't manage. I've never experienced this issue on any training runs at all. Breathing has always been a strength. I don't get side stitches. My posture is good. For some reason, despite all my efforts, something inside is out of sync and I have to play it smart so I can run another day. 

But there is one last hope . . . maybe if I just refuel and sit at Quest I'll be good. . . . 

2:05 PM:

I come into Quest. There's a small dirt slope just before the gates. That little "obstacle" takes me almost two minutes to get up. Let's do the math - 30 feet / 2 minutes = 15 feet a minute. This is not gonna happen.

I see the course marshall at the gate into Quest. "How's it going triple 7?" he yells out.

I can barely speak. I just shake my head. Apparently over the radio there was word of a runner with breathing and stomach issues. Well, that runner was me,

I climb the stairs to the Aid Station #5  . . . . kilometer 53.

Lucien looking worried. I'm moving zombie slow.

One of the volunteers is running over to me with a coke and a water in hand. Another is grabbing ice packs. They have chairs set up in the shade.

My wife and kids are looking at me and I shallowly squeak out I can't breath. 

I sit down. My wife, Sean, one of my running partners and close friends (and husband to Elaine Fung who rocked the 50k course), and the volunteers start providing assistance. I have ice under my arm pits, in between my legs, on my neck. I have food options, and drink options. I'm telling you, people are amazing when it comes to moments of duress.  

I look to my wife from the chair and say thats it. "I'm done. I can handle . . . everything else. Not breathing  . . .  is game over. " 

Medical is called. I'm in a car within fifteen minutes to Squamish hospital. A couple of hours later, it's over the St. Paul's via Ambulance with flashing lights. Four IV bags and a ton of blood and cardiac tests later and I am kept awake and tested on until Sunday morning. Looks like my kidney was failing, causing the heart to stress and breakdown, in turn causing the kidney to fail even more in a vicious cycle. 

Finally got home and had a chance to bathe, stretch, massage and rest by late Sunday morning. To be honest, I'm not sure what I could have done to prevent it. I welcome any and all suggestions or links or resources to help for next time. Post a comment below! I'll dedicate my next race to you.

Regardless, I will persevere. Do some more smaller, less intense races and push my hand at a couple of 50k's to develop some more distance skills. My legs and feet are standard sore having run 53 kilometers but other than the kidney/heart issues, I feel good today.

Like Charles Yuen messaged me on facebook, "You have done all the preparation you can for the race...some things are just out of your control. I will remind you to pack extra internal organs into your drop bag next time." 

Brilliant! 

SQUAMISH 50: Pre-Race

So I'm in taper mode before the big race in 11 days (as of the time of this writing). How did the final few weeks of training go? In a nutshell: simply awesome!

The final week leading up to the taper was a real ramp up of over 100k on difficult terrain or over various distances at various paces. In July I ran close to 200 kilometers, which is pretty superb given my busy work and family schedule. I did my best to manage cortisol levels (stress hormone) and ensure a steady effort throughout the month. A co-worker asked me if I was ready and I stated, "Yes." Confident in my training, and still scared to heck over the actual race. I think that's a healthy balance!

Tough Mudder: Whistler 2013

June 23, 2013


Tough Mudder is ridiculous. I say that because it does a great job of not taking itself too seriously while scaring the heck out of the average-joe, yet still getting them to sign up. This was going to be my second year doing a Mudder event, and I have to pay tribute to the event for getting me into trail running and running in general.

For 2013, the running wasn't going to be an issue for me, since a quick 18k with some obstacles is not of any major concern. Our team, "Lightning Unicorns" (my boys Paris and Lucien came up with the name and logo), was filled with 9 people this year. Shanthi (a 2012 alumni), Elaine, Sean, Carlos, Kevin, Suzi, Justin, Claire, and I, with my wife, Simone, and boys as our cheer leading squad.

We arrived in Whistler, and as we were running on the Sunday vs the Saturday, had a nice gathering amongst friends at Sean and Elaine's hotel suite. The village was alive with party atmosphere from the Saturday Mudders, including the noticeable "Mudder Swag", where people walk with a very specific limp from the course laying waste to their joints and limbs.

The next morning, we car-pooled to the Olympic Park where the event was happening and were suitably excited for the day to unfold.

We arrived at registration, and wow, great job TM, the organization this year was top notch. It took no time at all, and all the reg desks, package pick ups, bag stations, out houses and the whole area was very well manned and much improved from 2012.

We all got through the process in record time. As a mixed team of athletes of different skill sets, we had agreed that we would have a fast and slow group. However, we would all stick together at least until obstacles 5 or thereabouts (Glory Blades according to the course map).

Carlos duct taped a bunch of gels, shot blocks and gu's to his body, which was hilarious. I had some salt caps with me also. We were a walking aid station, and I'm glad we had the stuff. We gave away most of our food and salt to cramping weekend warriors who avoided death walking to the finish. Hilarious.

The opening speech by the MC at Tough Mudder events is one of the highlights of the event. He brings you up, the brings you way down, then ramps you up again, and gets you so jazzed to chant the mantra "First Aid" that you forget that he's actually having you chant "First Aid!"

Once you get suitably jazzed up to get going, they open the flood gates and you're off.

Sean and I bolt ahead, and once we navigate a few overly ambitious fresh out of the gaters, we reach the first obstacle with no one ahead of us. It's Kiss of Mud, and it's a 25 meter barb wired crawl through mud and water with about a foot of clearance. We get out the other side and wait for our crew. We are no longer clean. In fact, this year's TM is SO muddy that it really did the title justice.

There's a steep little ridge that we run over, and then run a mile or so to Arctic Enema, cargo containers filled with ice. Our cheer squad races us to the site and we wait for the whole team to arrive before going in. Last year, I hated this obstacle. This year, with the heat starting to climb, it felt great. There was a ton of ice on the far side of the barb wire board that forces you to go under and it's much colder on that side. I pull myself out and reach for Sean and Carlos to come out.

The I see Shanthi. And Claire. Shanthi is being pulled over the side in the middle next to the board by an attendant, her shoulder clearly jutting out an odd angle. She's telling him that her shoulder is dislocated and that she needs a second to pop it back in. Claire is struggling with breathing and isn't going under the board. I tell her to take a deep breath, and she's staring at me with wide eyes. "Deep breath, Claire, then under!" I yell. She takes the breath, and comes up on this side of the board. I reach in and help out of the ice. Supreme cold does weird things to people. She's out. Shanthi pops her shoulder back in and comes out of the ice, laughing. Typical Shanthi.

We all regroup, get a wet and cold picture opportunity and then head off to the next session. We clamber over some terrain and head into Bushwacked. It's basically a steep descent down a non-trail.

Carlos, Sean and I break left, as the crowd goes right. Oops, guess left wasn't intended as we hit a cliff. Oh, well. We slide down it on our butts and hands. I look back up and it was a seriously steep slope with some unforgiving angles, but we made it out in one piece. We avoided the mud that others are clambering out of. Haha, suckers. Regroup. My outfit gets some attention, from both male and female participants. Hey, not everybody can pull it off, but who am I to say whether I can or not. I'll take my shirt off in a kilometer or so. It'd be fun to run this thing basically naked.

We take off on another mile long run and reach Warrior Carry. Sean piggy backs me, I fireman carry Sean. Then run back and Carlos piggy backs me, and I fireman carry Carlos. Everyone else has a partner, and we run off to the Glory Blades. These are basically angled walls.Carlos and I help the rest of the team over as they arrive. Elaine decides she would like to do back flips and ends up on the dirt on the wrong side of the wall . .. not once, but twice! Justin, as he clambers up my body decides to boot kick me in the face and pin it against the planks as he pushes of my right orbital bone into the unknown on the other side of the barricade. Carlos can't stop laughing at my plight and shoe print across my face.

We climb over a wall of snow and reach the log jam further down the trail.

At this point we decide to split up into two groups: fast and less fast. Carlos, Sean and I break away and after a quick up and over, and under and over and under and under and over and over some logs, we run along to the next set of whatever Big Mudder has thrown our way.

Trench Warfare is a fair distance away. Not a very exciting obstacle (crawl through boxes), and then one of my favorites for the event: Fire Walker! There's a foot and a half wall of heat blasting fire that we sprint towards (I know, run AWAY from fire, not towards it!), and then a big leap and a jump followed by a 5' foot drop on the other side into a pool of dirty water. We pull ourselves out of the water via a cargo net. That was awesome.

We banana it up at the aid station, drink some water and run off to the next set of goop. It's called the mud mile. It is less than one mile (1.6k) but is very muddy, has little hills and slopes that are slippery and challenging to get up and down and it stinks like bear latrine. Don't breathe and don't fall in.Too late. We exit this obstacle absolutely covered from head to toe in mud.

The next section has a decent amount of running, and we pass a ton of people in severe cramping. I'm handing out salt pills like it's candy. The look on a lot of people's faces at this point is either one of elation or frozen bewilderment. I am enjoying the carnage.

We run down and then up a small hill (N.B. I've been running up 3000' foot mountains, so small is relative to me these days) and come up to a  set of planks, each about 5' feet above the other going up to about 25' feet off the ground. Welcome to Ladder to Hell. I have little fear of climbing, since I climbed trees as a kid daily, so I pop up to the top, flip over the other side and reach the bottom. Sean has some issues at the top transition, but with a quick tip from the HQ ground team to Major Mud, he gets over. Champion mode is on!

We come to Electric Eel after what is a solid amount of running, and the temperature is getting hot. We hear screaming in the distance. That's the sound of people getting zapped! The spectator crowd here is huge!! We hop up the rise and there's barb wire strung 1' foot above about 6 inches of muddy water. I hesitate at this one, because I'm wary of the electric shocks with my tremors. Carlos goes in first, and he looks fine. Last year, I don't even think the electrical was on, and it seems to be the same for Carlos' path, so I get on all fours and follow his route.

Suddenly, I'm pulling my face out of the water?! What just happened?! I got zapped, hard and took a faceplant into the ditch. Crawl, fast, zap. Crawl some more zap! Ok, this thing is ON today. Almost there and BAM, I take an aluminum baseball bat to the lower back. I plop over the final rail and get the heck out of that death trap. That sucked! Can't you tell by the picture.

Now that we've been suitably jolted, we come up to Cage Crawl, which is supposed to be  claustrophobic water tunnel with a cage over your head preventing you from getting your head out of waterline except for your mouth. I've been anxious for this obstacle. And here were are . . . in reality, it sucked. There was no water. It was basically trench warfare but on snow. Wait, trench warfare WAS on snow. So, it's trench warfare on snow with a cage instead of a box. Terrible challenge. Move on.

Here comes Cliffhanger. last year, this hill climb which runs parallel to the Olympic ski jump killed me. It's steep, it faces the Sun and it's steep. Well, after all the mountain running from one year to the next, this climb was straightforward and short in the grand scheme of things. Great to see measurable  progress.

There's a ton of mud along what is an unlisted obstacle, that is actually one of my favorite sections. It's like the mud mile, but occurs in a rooty, rocky, rugged trail. It's slow, treacherous and slippery. Plus people alays take a wrong step and go tip to tail into the mud here which is worth a laugh. It's also a shoe graveyard, as they get suck in the muck, and good luck getting them back. We're at the top of the rise, and after exiting this section, it's a fast descent to Hold Your Wood. You pick a wooden log, carry it up a climb and then down the other side. No problems. Another fast descent, and people are suffering. Cramping all over. It's like a zombie walk for some groups at this point. We see some "Uber-guys" (you know gym dudes with muscles the size of my torso) walking like they came off a hundred mile horseback ride moving at a pace similar to a geriatric with constipation. I make a few salt deals, and we're off again.



We hear more screaming in the distance. And here comes Walk the Plank!! It's a 5 meter climb up a wooden wall to a platform that you then jump off of into a large pool of black murky water. There was a drowning death at this obstacle in the States a few months back, and the number of attendants is clearly bumped up after that tragic accident. I climb to the top, and Sean and Carlos lag behind. I yell down for them to get up here, and Carlos rips up the wall, takes two steps and jumps! Okay, me too . . . oh, sweet refreshing water. All the mud is washing away and I swim to the cargo net to get out of the water.

Sean takes the plunge and realizes it's higher than he thought! He swallows a bunch of water and exits with a smile. We see our support crew and I give my eldest a wet hug!

Now let's take a look at what happened when the rest of the team arrived at this section about an hour later. Elaine and Kevin jumped in first. All good. Shanthi jumped in and came up gasping for air, her arm (the questionable one), clearly out of its socket! They swim over to her and keep her from going under and the attendants start throwing life savers with rope over to the trio. They pull her from the water and she's hooked up with a doctor in an ambulance. He asks her how often she dislocates her shoulder and in true Shanthi fashion she says, "In my life or just today?!". A second waiver is signed, she pops it back in, and off she goes. Warrior mode is on!

Back to the present: Sean, Carlos and I blast through Boa Constrictor (tubes with water) and reach Funky Monkey. I love monkey bars. I secure my grip and swing 3 to 4 bars at a time. I see Simone and the boys running up to get a picture so I hang out in the middle and wait for them to arrive. People are splooshing in the water around me, but I could hang here for days. Well, maybe not days, but I could play "leg wars" confidently and be okay.

Sean and Carlos also rock the bars no issues, which is a HUGE confident boost for Sean, as he was anxious for this obstacle leading up to the event. Kudos buddy.

Everest is next, a 20' foot half pipe that you have to sprint and jump up. Getting someone's arm cuts a few feet from your leap, so it's a good strategy. I run hard, jump up and one arm grabs a helper and the other the lip of the wall. One tug and over. We all get over no issues and help a few other teams up in true Mudder form.

Berlin Walls come up pretty quick. These double walls are higher at 12' feet each, so helping each other is key. We had a solid technique as can be seen here. Yes, we're close friends!

We run to the finish line, Sean is bonking and decides he will zig zag his way along, as Carlos and I have a laugh.

I skip the final Electroshock Therapy. The effect Electric Eel had on me was pretty intense, so no need to play the hero. We cross the finish line, and grab our finisher's swag: t-shirts, the coveted headband, and of course BEER!

We shower off, grab some grub and wait for the rest of the team to come in. We completed in about 2:40 and the rest of our Lightning Unicorns crossed hand in hand at about 3:45.

Great job team! The event was awesome. Good fun, well placed obstacles and a much improved course. The weather was beautiful and warm, so even the cold water was refreshing.

After having done it two years in a row, I doubt I'll do a third year in 2014, and keep my eyes set on Ultra distances instead, but it was a hoot.

Thanks Big Mudder.

GO TEAM FOX!!

Dear Friends,

This post is very special because of the positive effects it can have and is a bit of a public coming out for me with my movement disorder. Running has been an extremely beneficial outlet for my symptoms and has suppressed and alleviates them greatly. The farther I run, the better I feel. The less I run, with days or weeks off being the worst case, the more the symptoms return. So, I keep running and am going further than ever before! 

 

This year I am proud to play a part in the fight against Parkinson’s disease. As a Team Fox member I will be running 80 kilometers through the mountains at the Squamish 50 Ultra. Taking on the challenge of this fundraising endeavor is both exciting and inspiring. I am making a commitment to raise funds and awareness for Parkinson’s disease (PD) because of my own struggles with neurological movement disorder since August of 2012. I am dedicating my efforts to The Michael J. Fox Foundation because I believe that I am helping to ultimately shorten the road to a cure.

Over five million people worldwide are living with Parkinson’s disease (PD) — a chronic degenerative neurological disorder whose symptoms typically progress from mild tremors to complete physical incapacitation. In the United States, 60,000 new cases of PD will be diagnosed this year alone. While the average age of onset is 60, an estimated five to 10 percent of people with PD experience onset at age 40 or younger.

There is no known cure for Parkinson’s disease. Currently available treatments temporarily mask symptoms while the disease continues to progress. The Michael J. Fox Foundation is dedicated to finding a cure for Parkinson’s disease through an aggressively funded research agenda and to ensuring the development of improved therapies for those living with Parkinson’s today.

I’m asking for your support in our race to put an end to PD.  My personal goal is to raise one thousand dollars. Please help me reach my goal by making a contribution. Donations are tax-deductible to the full extent allowed by law and can be made online through my Team Fox fundraising (click the link).

I invite you to join me in making a difference in the lives of those living with Parkinson’s disease.

Thank you in advance for your generous support as we strive together toward the finish line on the fast track to a cure.

Sincerely,

Ed Kumar