It is a tough thing to run a 50 km race, even tougher when a wrong turns extends the race by an extra 5 km. This is what happened to me during my first ever ultra-marathon, the 50 km Frosty Mountain Ultra in Manning Park, British Columbia. My aim was to run the race in 6 hours and 30 minutes or less, so I had a lot of work to do.
The day before the race, I was teaching until 3:30 so I had a tough decision to make regarding departure from Vancouver. I could either leave right then, fight traffic and get to the trailhead early and sleep in my car. Or, I could go home, relax and leave very early in the morning. I decided to leave ridiculously early in the morning as I was exhausted after a long day of teaching and did not want to sleep in my car. I believe I made the right decision.
After leaving my house at 4 a.m, the drive to the race was uneventful, I only pulled over once for some food and once to have a 20 minute nap. I pulled into the parking lot 1.5 hours before the race and preceded to take another nap. It was glorious. I was tired after being awake so early.
With about 45 minutes to go until the race started, I awoke, found water, changed, chatted with a guy from kelowna named Neil and registered. I got a sweet bib number, a sweatshirt and the info about the aid stations. It was at this point that I really started to get nervous and cold. I realized, it may be possible that what my friends and colleagues were saying was correct. Maybe I am a little crazy. But, that is something for future Chris to deal with. The morning was very chilly and I was wearing by big insulated jacket to keep warm. My hands and feet were slowing going numb and I was eager to get running.
A minute to go before the race!!!!
My heart was racing and my stomach was all knots. I needed to start so I could get rid of this nervousness. Despite feeling this way I loved every minute of it. Being nervous makes be aware of what's going on around me and it sort of makes me feel more alive. And it is only a big competition that can do this to me.
Suddenly, the race directer yelled "go" and we were off. A mass of people, pushing and elbowing to get a decent race position. I got out near the front and held that for the first 8k until a wrong turn devastated my day.
For the first 8k, I was in the chase group (there were two crazy fast runners ahead of us) and we were moving along at a pretty fast pace. From the start we stayed on a nice flat trail for 3km and then the climbing began and it never seemed to stop. All day was just one climb after another. We would run, walk, run walk our way up the first climb until we got to the first aid station at 8k. There was nobody there, no water, food, snacks or directions. Only a sign attached to a post saying aid station.
There were about eight of us in this lead group and we decided to head straight up the hill rather than go off on the trail that branched to the right. So we continued up hill for another 3 k until we got to the end of the trail. There we realized that we had taken a wrong turn and were now far behind all the other racers. We turned around, descended and sped downhill as fast as we can. We got back to the aid station and daw the two volunteers there who were supposed to tell us where to go. We found the right trail and sped off to try to catch up. By this point we were 5km behind everybody else. Regardless to say the rest of the day was spent running with our little group of miscreants trying to pull people in and climb our way up the results ladder.
I have to say that I was disappointed by the race organziers. There should have been appropriate signage at this aid station and the volunteers should have arrived before the runners to ensure the proper course was followed. We all read the maps before but it wasn't that helpful. We were told there would be signs and people watching for us. This was not the case and it cost us 25 minutes in the race. But alas, the only thing better than running 50k is running 55k.
Stay tuned for part two.
