My Running Start to the New Year!

My idea of a good start to the New Year includes running 50km.  Doing anything less among our ultra friends always makes me feel like a couch potato. 

Now, there are good reasons to opt out of a full 50km on New Year's Day:

• The distance is insane on any day, but on New Year...you got to be kidding! 
• Then there is the weather.  It always is lousy one way or the other.  Conditions are usually perfect for curling up beside the fireplace and ponder the things to come.  Conditions are never perfect for a 50km run...in previous years we braved snow storms, hail, Gail force winds that uprooted numerous trees along the course, freezing rain and freezing temps.  This year was no exception. The weather man had posted a heavy rain fall warning for the region along with strong winds. 
• Physical fitness after a month of feasting usually is not quite where it should be to run an ultra
• ...and lastly there are injuries, that always seem to pop up toward the end of the year when my body tells me to rest but training to run 50km takes precedence

Despite having enough reasons to turn around in bed when my alarm went off at 6:45 on New Year's Day, I rolled out of bed, pondered what to wear to be comfortable for 7 miserable, wet hours and gulped down a cup of coffee while processing the last registrants for this insane endeavor.  

Just before 8:00 Carolyn Goluzza arrived at our place to car pool to the start.  It's hardly raining, she happily proclaimed as we dashed down the stairs trying to avoid to get soaked before the run started.  Ean was rather quiet on the drive over...his nickname rightly is "Rain-No-Train-Jackson and if the event wouldn't be his baby, he would definitely have wished me a good day and hit the snooze button a few more times.  But alas, it was supposed to be his 100th ultra, 116 registrants expected him at the start line and some members of the media had set their eyes on his accomplishment, too.  Not a day to make excuses.

Smiling faces met us at the start in Stanley Park.  I am always amazed at how many people want to run 50km on New Year's Day.  We had a line-up at sign-in... 

Just before Ean send us off I decided to pull on a plastic poncho.  I had decided to wear shorts, my favorite long sleeve CFA shirt and my (not so water proofed - despite the claims) MEC Jetstreak jacket.  Figured that the poncho might come in handy if the rain would last all day.  I only lasted about 1km with the noisy plastic cover before I stripped it off and thrust it into the hands of Glenn, who was cheering  us on at Prospect Point.   I was running in a group of people: Karl, Wendy, Neil, Carolyn K. and others.  The mood was upbeat as we twisted our way through the old growth forest of Stanley Park. A few times I directed the group ahead of us to the right path or hollered after runners that went down the wrong trail.  The pace was crisp and Karl and I agreed that it was too fast - before Karl took off never to be seen again that day. 

Popping out of the woods and on to the Seawall near Second Beach Pool the skies didn't look too bad.  We introduced ourselves to Laura and Rachel, who didn't know each other, but who had fallen into a steady rhythm.  Laura had Ray accompanying her on a bike.  His knapsack looked like he could support a few runners and I figured it be good to keep close to him ;-)  Laura also looked like a chick on a mission and especially after Wendy and Carolyn turned around at the Aquatic Centre it was good to have some company, motivation and strength nearby.  Somewhere along the way, Craig, who didn't look too good at Prospect Point, caught up again.  So did the rains... Torrential rains.  We all were sopping wet and cold.  Until Anthony caught up with our little group, I was the only one wearing shorts and I started to doubt that decision.  Question was if I would be any warmer in soggy tights?  I also wished I had hung on to the poncho...

At the 2h mark I munched on a granola bar and had some vitamin I.  I always enjoy running along Jericho and Spanish Banks, this year however, the view was obstructed by low hanging, heavy rainclouds.  Greeting Curb, out for a stroll was a welcome distraction, as was Kirsten, shivering in the wind at the last concession.  She was manning the Kintec Aidstation and because her car broke down, she hitched a ride and couldn't bring the tent.  The coke and pretzels hit the spot.  Thanks, Kirsten.  In years past the course moved into Pacific Spirit Park after the aidstation.  Because of trail maintenance we had been asked to pick up Admirality trail a little further down the beach.  I made the mistake of staying on the beach path a bit too long and ended up running across a soggy grass field.  Ick, more water in my shoes. 

Heading into the park we passed a gaggle of Coquitlam runners and all huffed and puffed up to Admirality Trail, which follows the ocean along a rim high above the water.  The trail was extremely muddy and slippery until we veered onto the wider Salish Trail.

I was happy to leave the flat gravel trails behind us and have a bit of variety to keep my calf muscles and hips happy.  The uphills though, were difficult on my legs.  The cold and lack of training had caused them to be quite tight and each step started to hurt.  Luckily, the weather improved just as we hit the long downhill stretch after crossing 16th Avenue.  I was able to produce a bit a body heat and limber up.  Craig was not having a good run and knowing that his partner, Ethelyn, would be at the turnaround, I asked him if that would be a temptation to bail.  He didn't think so.

The downhill to the turnaround at 41st and Comosun seemed longer than usual - this was were I injured my calf some 7 weeks earlier and I wistfully remembered how well trained I was back then.  Ethelyn was sheltering in her car as I approached the turnaround and she didn't see me.  I decided not to linger like the rest of the group and get started on the long uphill.  My plan was to walk most of the uphill and try to loosen up the ankles and hips. The plan did not include to bail, which given the pain in my Achilles Tendon probably would have been the prudent thing to do.

Slowly the rest of the gang (but not Craig) caught up to me, but mercifully, nobody got ahead too far, or if they did, I caught up at their various stretching, food and bathroom breaks.  I figured that stopping wouldn't serve any purpose for me at that point and I was better off to keep moving.  I wondered aloud what happened to Craig.  None of my new trail buddies recalled him leaving Ethelyn's aidstation. Did he bail. No he wouldn't.  But where was he?

The weather, which was cooperating during the 14km through Pacific Spirit Park, took a turn for the worse as soon as we hit the open beach.  It was head down and dig deep mode.  Our conversation became sparse and I was hoping that Kirsten would still be fighting the elements at the aidstation as I was craving salty stuff.  Kirsten wasn't there anymore (who could blame her) but wisely had left behind an assortment of coke and water.  I briefly questioned if the stuff (open cans parked beside a garbage bin) was hygienic to drink, but we all agreed that the taste of coke was worth the risk of contracting H1N1 (I didn't tell my new friends that I was vaccinated).  As we lingered around the coke for a few minutes, I had a chance to look back to scan the course for Craig.  Surely, I would see his yellow jacket from far away.  But no Craig was in sight.

In previous Vancouver New Years Day 50km runs, I experienced a high somewhere between Kits Point and Sunset Beach.  This year I was anticipating this high and relying on it to get me to the finish starting somewhere along Spanish Banks as the wind and rain was whipping my face.  I was also hoping for a little pep talk from Craig and digging up memories of New Year's Day 2008.  Where was Craig?  Back to the anticipated and sorely needed runners high.  It didn't hit.  I was telling my running buddies, Anthony and Rachel at this point, that once we hit Kits and can smell the finish the pains will miraculously disappear.   Anthony probably figured I was totally off the rocker and started to pull ahead.  Rachel kept her distance, too and fell back. Laura was nowhere to be seen and did I mention that Craig was missing?

Dodging the splashing water when cars passed me on Point Grey Road got my mind off my aches and I started pretending that my legs were feeling really limber and I could stride out easily....Hahaha - it felt like I was sprinting when I was probably crawling.  Where Point Grey turns into Cornwall Ave and the route dips back down to the ocean, Ray, Laura's bike support, caught up and asked if I needed anything.  How sweet.  Laura had to call it a day because of a shoulder injury. Ray offered to go to a 7-Eleven to grab some salty stuff for me when his knapsack only revealed bars and gels and electrolyte drinks.  Had enough of those, thanks ;-)  Note to myself, pack some real food next time I embark on an ultra run.

At the sailing club before Kits Pool I decided to wait for Rachel, who I had heard groaning as she descended a set of stairs down to the beach... Figured we were both ready for the company. 

The sky in the west started to brighten considerably as we made our way past Muscle Beach and around Kits Point.  But the light was deceiving as the skies opened up yet again to empty buckets of cold water on our weary heads.  Maybe runners high was finally kicking in, maybe it was the beautiful light over English Bay, the double rainbow over Stanley Park or the hooting and hollering from the start of the Polar Bear Swim across the water, but I started smiling at the rain and all the folks out in the elements.    Didn't stop smiling across Burrard Street Bridge. Said hi to Wade and Jackie, who had finished their run and were honking and waving as they passed in their car.  Weaving through the costumed revelers just coming out of the water after their Polar Bear Swim at English Bay Beach was entertaining to say the least - was I hallucinating or was there a butt naked flame thrower?

Back in Stanley Park we picked up the speed and Anthony, who had taken a wrong turn.  Still no sight of Craig. We  cruised past Lost Lagoon and a couple of beautiful swans, the Rowing Club, the Olympic Rings on the barge east off the seawall until finally turning around the bend at the little lighthouse to see the finish in the distance.  My hope (before I got injured) was to get a 6:30 time and believe it or not, with our little last km sprint, we made it back to the fire hydrant in exactly 6:30h - Imagine what could have been without injury ;-)

Ean, happily waiting for me was a welcome sight.  He had planned to hitch a ride home, but it sure was nice to have him there.  He took the finish photo and goaded us into the chilly waters of Burrard Inlet.  I can't remember how many times I have run the 50k on New Year's Day, but this was definitely the first time that I went into the drink...only regret:  I didn't stay in long enough to soothe my sore muscles. Next Year!

I guess you wonder what happened to Craig... I thought for sure that he had bailed at half way, but he actually made it back to Stanley Park and almost to the finish before an approaching cold forced him to bail.