Mount Work is a rounded and wooded hill in the Gowlland Tod Park with miles of trails that overlook the Saanich Inlet and Finlayson Arm. It is a steep and short little trail but extremely fun to run.
I started at a steady pace and quickly found myself running up a trail with a trickle of water flowing down it. I was concerned that I would get rained on but upon parking the clouds broke and I was met by rays of warm March sun penetrating the undergrowth. The hill quickly steepened and I had to adjust my stride to short and quick little steps. There were large portions of trail that had accrued puddles from previous rain storms. The rocks were particularly perilous as they were wet, mossy, and extremely slick. I quickly powered my way to the summit taking advantage of any flatter portion of trail to run, and power hiking the steeper portions of rocky trail. The summit was beautiful and the weather perfect for a Saturday run. The return trip was punctuated by tromping through deep puddles and bombing down steep stretches of single track. It was a great little run and I was extremely happy with it, and was reminded once again why I love running so much!
Finlayson Arm and Saanich Inlet from an overlook near the summit of Mount Work in the Gowlland Tod Park!
Below is a nice video of the run with a great little running song!
My good friend Tim and I finished up our seventh week of our 2013 training block. While Tim was dealing with one of Utah's colder snowier winters, Vancouver Island has experienced quite a mild winter, which means spring-like conditions are here a little early.
I must admit I feel bad as Tim posts about his training runs in sub-zero weather and blustery whiteout conditions. Meanwhile I am in short sleeves and shorts gliding around a mountain, surrounded by succulent chartreuse leaves, and single track bordered by emerald carpet. Tim is definitely building up a nice resistance to the many trials facing us this year by running in the challenging conditions, meanwhile I am getting spoiled and I will not be quite as accustomed to the difficulties that lie ahead!
I am not complaining though. I openly admit that it is fantastic to run through the budding new life of Mount Doug in February. I still remember when I was training in Utah, and I would stand on the driveway in the dark early morning waiting for a snowplow to clear the road so I could run in its wake, as new snowflakes quickly accumulated on the freshly plowed road. Those seem like great times in retrospect but at the time I wasn't always so thrilled.
Week seven was a great week for me and the outlined schedule pushed me to run hard and pick up the pace.
As my degree comes to a close and I likely head out for an unknown future in academia and a new home I find myself already missing Victoria and the Island. It was here where I feel I have grown the most as a geologist, a student, and in life in general. I will always have fond memories of my late winter sojourns on the green sun-drenched slopes of Mount Doug. I guess I better really enjoy this spring as it is likely my last one here anyways!
Succulent new growth on Mount Doug in mid February!
The green north slopes of Doug in late winter.
Late winter trail running on Doug.
A lone arbutus on Little Doug with rural Victoria behind it.
With anticipation I awoke to a bright sunny February morning on Vancouver Island, ready for my Saturday long run. The warm sun and mild temps suggested that it was time to switch out the tights and toque for shorts and a running hat (at least for the day). I coaxed my body into a light jog at my usual training grounds on Mount Douglas in Victoria, BC. Having trained for about 4 weeks I was starting to get into a groove and quickly found a pace that felt great. Wisps of cool morning air brushed across my bare legs as I navigated the damp trails that wrap around the base of Mount Doug. It was one of those mornings where everything was clicking between my training, diet, and sleep - and they were all in sync. I was motoring through the miles effortlessly. The climbs were still more than I could manage without a walking break or two but my lactic threshold was definitely heading south. The downhills felt fluid and easy as my quads extended and contracted to slow my descent. I urged my legs into a fast clip as I cleared the wooded slopes and entered the sun-soaked exposed south slopes. It was amazing to be cruising over the trails in the sun. Overall the run was relaxed, playful, and rejuvenating. By the end I was thoroughly exhausted as a result of my eagerness to run quickly in the beautiful crisp morning air.
Sun-drenched trail on the southeast apron of Mount Doug (top). Climbing one of three major ascents out of the southern wooded approach (middle). The view west from the summit of Mount Doug showing the beautiful greens that are so prevalent this time of year (bottom).
Looking east out towards the Gulf islands of the Georgia Strait, halfway up my first major climb (top). Sun peaking through the undergrowth on Doug's south slope (middle). Circuitous trail through moss and ferns (bottom).
Below is a video capturing the run and was featured on the local newspapers (Times Colonist) entertainment page here.
I really enjoy running in the rain. I should rephrase that, I really enjoy running in a light drizzle. The rain keeps you cool and is also a bit invigorating so that you seem to find a little extra energy to draw from. I also love running in the Autumn not only because of the obvious reasons of vibrant fall colors and cooler temperatures but also knowing that the racing season is over takes some of the pressure off to perform and train at such a high level. You are able to relax some and enjoy running for the simple act of covering distance efficiently. Today's run checked both these boxes. I stepped out my door and was first greeted by a brisk drizzle, during the Island's first true cold spell the year; it was a little like jumping into a cold pool, but like swimming in a cold pool, it is only a matter of time before the body adjusts and the exertion makes you quite comfortable. The smell of earth and leaves in various stages of decay accompanied me as I started down the trail. I decided to run Arubutus Cove a small sandy bay near my home. As I ran down the stairs to the beach, I could hear the surf which meant high tide. The waves were crashing right up against the high water mark which only left a small strip of runnable sand. It would be possible to run this strip, which would include some scrambling on slimy rocks, but tonight I opted to head back to the road and circumnavigate the beach and run to the other end. The other end of the cove has larger grassy areas along the headlands strewn with large arbutus trees, both lush and green, and dead and scraggly. I enjoyed the view and ran down the 40 or so steps to the beach. It was a superb run at the height of fall. I retraced my steps and did the route in reverse for a simple 35 minute run. Nothing too serious just enough.
My wipers swished away the autumn rain droplets from the windshield. I had butterflies in my stomach. I was going for a trail run in a soaking rain at the height of fall on beautiful Vancouver Island. It had been a while. Sure I had the best intentions of running consistently throughout this semester, but like so many before it, I found myself lost in a whirlwind of field schools, thesis writing, and course work. The semester flooded over me so swiftly my only defence was to spend longer days in the books; early mornings and late nights. I was able to squeeze in the occasional 5:00 a.m. run but my running was suffering even though I tried so hard not to let things get out of hand.
I stepped out of my car and the clouds opened up and unleashed their fury on me. I watched as large drops of rain accelerated earthward towards me from their lofty origins in the heavens.
“There they are! The butterflies again”!
My body responded by sending a slug of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had finally resurfaced again from my studies and now it was time, time to send my body hurling down another muddy trail.
The mountain wore an apron of mist and hissed with the sounds of a million drops crashing into needles, leaves and earth. The effects of the adrenaline were now waning and I settled into comfortable albeit slow rhythm. The muted color pallet of the gray weather was accented with splashes of yellow ochre and burnt sienna from the deciduous trees. I knew my fitness was lacking but it didn’t matter, I was completely alone, running through cloud, forest, and rain.
“There you are”! I thought to myself. “I thought I had lost you for a sec back there in all that school work”.
I climbed the muddy trails and rocky slopes higher into the clouds. The rain had soaked me through now. My heart remembered what was necessary to propel its owner skyward and my pulse quickened and I could feel the response in my temples. The lungs were searing as they tried to capture as much oxygen from each breath and exchange it for the accumulating CO2. I ignored the warning signs my body kept relaying and I began to push. The push started subconsciously but was building momentum and finally it became apparent what I was on about. I wanted to shed this sedentary chrysalis formed from hours at a desk and weeks under pressure, and I wanted to emerge a runner. Free!
I just kept on pushing. My legs were spinning and spinning. They didn’t seem to mind as much as the circulatory and pulmonary systems, in fact, I have a feeling they needed this as much as my restless mind.
I topped out and started down the other side of the mountain and didn’t even pause for a second. This run was not about meeting some training goal; it was not even about trying to salvage some form of fitness. This run was linked to something much more instinctive almost to the very basic fight or flight response found in each of us. Though I was flying I was not running from anything, quite the contrary, I was fighting…I was fighting for myself; I was fighting for balance; I was fighting for my sanity. I was tired of my life being so lopsided and I was ready to get back to a more balanced and healthy lifestyle. I hated the idea that to succeed in one area of your life other equally important facets of ones life must be neglected and those aspects of ones self quickly atrophy faster than idle muscles. I also understood at that moment that this aspect of excelling in one aspect of your life to the neglect of others can’t be avoided all the time, and it would only be for a short time. I looked down at my legs and was surprised to see their rapid cadence. I was on fire.
The next thing I knew I was back to my car. A flash…A blink and the run was over. I sat on the wood slat fence a little queasy and very light-headed. I was truly happy. It felt as though a “reset” switch was flipped and I was back to normal. It is interesting how something so seemingly simple as running through the forest on a rainy fall day can completely re-center your thoughts and attitude. What seemed to be drowning me just one hour earlier was now something I could face again with new vigour. My scrambled and turbulent mind was now refocused and clear. In one hour, running unloaded what took 6 weeks of heavy studies, travel. and stress to build up. Once again I was free of my burdens. How do people who don’t run cope with life?
During the end of June and the first week of July we traveled to Utah for a holiday. I had planned on running a couple of awesome runs with good friends. The extremely cold wet year eliminated the possibility of running the main route we had chosen so we had to get creative and find something new to run. To test how runnable the Northern Wasatch were and to see what options we had to replace our old run, I decided to take a test run up Bair Canyon which is the course for the Bairgutsman trail race, an 11-13 mile point to point trail race. I was running about 8 miles of the course and then running back so in total I was going to run 16 miles.
Starting at an elevation of 4800' the trail heads straight up Bair Canyon to the summit at 9,500' leaving the total elevation just shy of the 5,000' mark. I started the run at 5:30 a.m. hoping to beat the sun since I am use to running in the mild climate of the PNW. It was quite windy at the start but it was still fairly warm. I had some concerns about the high run-off that would make each of the four river crossings a bit dicey and I was also worried about the snow fields near the summit that were going to be treacherous to cross.
I started off at a nice clip and made it to the first river crossing very quickly. The river was high and frothy but it looked relatively safe. I jumped on in and felt the icy snow melt crash into my thighs. It ended up being quite simple to cross and I could tell I wouldn't have any issues crossing each of the subsequent crossings.
The trail had not seen many hikers past this first crossing this year and the trail began to be quite overgrown. Perhaps the most challenging aspect was the loads of stinging nettle that lined both sides of the trail due to the extremely wet conditions this year. I startled some campers who were sleeping on the side of the trail and weren't expecting to see anyone let alone at 6:00 a.m. I waved and crossed the river again and kept on cruising upwards.
I was also getting covered in hundreds of tiny silkworms that were dangling from the trees. Sometimes I would stop and pick hundreds of the little creatures off of me. Then I noticed a few other unwanted guests hitching a ride... Ticks! I picked several of those off my bare legs and then spent the remainder of the time in the trees and brush petrified of having to pick off ticks when I finished my run. I also began to notice cougar scat all over the trail and was a bit nervous, when a large sage grouse jumped out in front of me. Being already nervous of cougars this opportune explosion of feathers made me nearly have a heart attack. With a huge jolt of adrenaline I powered my way up through the remainder of the trees into the higher slopes of the range. The trail was extremely faint in places making it challenging to follow but my main concern was that on the return down I could easily get lost since the trail would be harder to see as I quickly bounded down the hill. There was also going to be a bunch of branches from mountain mahogany and scrub oak and nettle to sting and scratch my legs as I made my rapid and slightly out of control descent.
I reached snowline at about 7:00 am and found my first snow crossing to be treacherous as I had to slide down a nearly vertical 20' foot snow ledge on my backside. The next challenging snow field was a large side-sloped traverse that angled steeply into the canyon and would have been really bad to slip and slide down on. After crossing this side slope I realized all the switch backs were covered in snow and ice so I just cruised right up the ridge getting scratched and torn up along the full distance.
About two hours after starting out I made it to the summit ridge. The wind was really whipping up there. I decided to summit a small peak to the north of Francis Peak and have a sandwich. I took shelter from the wind behind a communication tower and had a great time on the summit. I changed my socks and started the descent. It went really quickly and running down the snow fields was a blast.
As I predicted the branches and nettle took their toll on my exposed skin and my legs were completely shredded and stung. It is all part of the journey. The descent went extremely quick and I got off the main trail during a slide-rock crossing but found it again and finished my descent with no major issues.
It was a great run and one I will always remember. I really love running in the clouds. Enjoy the footage I took of the run!
I went down to Utah at the end of June with the intention of running from Smith and Morehouse to Bald Mountain in the Uintas with my best friend Tim. The problem was that even though we waited to do the event until the first week of July, the weather had been so cold and wet this past spring that the Uinta Mountains were completely snowed over.
We had to think fast and come up with an alternate idea. I decided to take a test run to 9,500' in the Wasatch Mountains and see how the conditions were. I ran to Francis Peak and found that it was no problem if I stayed on south and west slopes of the range (more to come on that run). The north slopes were still quite snowy but it seemed reasonable that we could handle any run in the Northern Wasatch.
So while in North Ogden I stopped off at Tim's house and decided to talk to him about our options. We set our sites on 9,712' tall Ben Lomond. The idea was to hit the North Ogden Divide and run the south ridge all the way to the summit. Here is where we ran into our next problem. Tim called me that night and informed me that the North Ogden Divide was closed due to rock slides. We couldn't really get anywhere near the trail head. We devised a new plan to attack it via the east and north slopes of the North Fork Park (I knew that we would be dealing with some serious snow).
We met at about 5:30 am and drove to the trail head. The sun was already beating down on us as we started the run. We didn't quite know where the actual trail started and ran around the campgrounds a bit to find the actual trail near some corrals, which allowed us to stretch the legs and get the cobwebs out. I was still a bit fatigued from hammering a 13 mile 3,000' run just two days earlier and I could tell the elevation and heat would slow me down but in the end I could care less the mountain air was fresh and crisp, the sky a sapphire blue, and we were doing what I love most about running - propelling ourselves skyward!
The first few miles were beautiful and the trail was in great condition. We were able to quickly move up the mountain in good time. We purposely held back and took our time because we knew that the upper reaches of the mountain weren't going to be a picnic. After several miles of smooth sailing we began to ascend into ever higher trails and then ran into our first snow bank. The snow was soft and made a steep bevel that covered the trail. The edges of our shoes bit into the snow and we navigated the bank with little difficulty. The next bank was a bit longer and more solid than the previous one. Tim, being a road marathoner, was wearing his Mizuno Wave Runner's which have about 600 miles on them. We joked that he was doing an off-road event in racing slicks. This was Tim's first real trail running attempt and as we ran the snow I could see that his shoes were not going to handle too much snow but I thought "it is July, how much snow could there be up there?"
As we made continual progress up the slope we found the snow becoming more and more common. Finally it began to no longer be just a hindrance but a hazard as we side-sloped large ice fields with seemingly endless drop-offs. The once amazing and runnable trail was masked by large snow fields. We would continually lose the trail and have to find it after zig-zagging the snowy slopes. With all the challenges the snow were posing we began to work out a system where I would kick steps into the icy pitches and Tim would follow in my footsteps with his racing slicks. We found a smooth rhythm and began to make some good progress again. After several slow miles of kicking steps and finding the trail we reached a large gully that was choked with snow and ice. We could see that it lead toward the saddle that marked the beginning of the final approach to the summit. All we could see though was white. There was little hope of being able to ascend the last 600 feet without a better form of traction. With disappointment I told Tim that with a pair of Kahtoola Microspikes we would be able to launch ourselves right up the slopes.
We decided to run around a large hip that protruded from the slopes of Ben Lomond. As we rounded the corner we were met with the awe-inspiring 9,764' crags of Willard Peak. All I could to do was drool as I imagined myself standing on its summit in a perfect "snow free" world. Alas it was not to be. It would have been unwise to continue with racing-slicks and besides our unprotected eyes were now looking at the blinding light coming off the snow fields for an hour or two and snow blindness is something neither of us wanted. We decided to call off our summit bid and we anxiously looked back over the miles of mushy snow that stood between us and fast downhill running.
We picked our way back but continually were having issues following our footsteps back and after some confusion we realized there was a subsequent pair of insane runners like ourselves that had attempted the same run. We eventually ran into them as they descended as well having suffered our same fate of getting snowed out. We joked and shared running stories and enjoyed the unspoken bond that links all crazy runners. We all parted ways and began to pick up the pace as the snow thinned out more and more with each step.
Finally we reached the sloping trails leading back to the trail head. After several hours of slipping and sliding and kicking steps in the snow we were able to finally run! We pointed ourselves down hill and really turned up the heat! We floated down the gentle curves of the wooded apron that surrounds Ben Lomond. Leaping streams and flying across slopes covered in lush green grass and wildflowers, we finally felt more like runners and less like mountaineers.
The heat of the day and humidity rising from the dense vegetation gave one a sense of running in a sauna. Before we knew it we were down from the mountain and just meters from the trail head. Our water had run out just as we reached the car. We had given it our best shot and though we were unable to summit something told me as we stood side by side gazing at the blinding jewel that marked the summit we would be back. Tim may be able to run it quite soon but I live 900 miles to the northwest and will have to wait for another year. Perhaps next year I will be able to give it another go and we may even be able to nail Willard while we are at it.
Perhaps the highlight of the trip was running with Tim. Our running journey's have followed completely different paths. I have been running for almost 5 years now and have found myself drawn to the trails of British Columbian, where Tim has been running for only a year and a half and has spent most of his time on the roads training for half and full marathons. That being said two best friends of nearly 20 years who have polar opposite running styles and backgrounds were able to reconnect and share our first of many running experiences together and enjoy the camaraderie and joy that comes from running. Something tells me this is just the first page of a whole new chapter of our friendship.
Tim is currently spending the week with me on the island and we are already creating new and amazing running experiences here. I will blog about these amazing runs in the weeks to come.
Here is a video made by Tim of our amazing run. I have not been able to gather all my multimedia from the trip yet but will post it soon. I love the video Tim made and I feel it does a beautiful job of catching the amazing time we had during our first run together ever. Enjoy!
I awoke on Saturday mentally prepared to run my first mountainous marathon of the season.I decided that I would run the Mount Doug Marathon.It isn’t an official marathon or race and the only entrant was me, so I knew I had great odds of getting first place, I just had to finish.
My training plan only called for a 24 miler but I was inspired by my friend Tim who was 800 miles to the southeast running in his first official marathon the OgdenUtah marathon, one of Runners World’s top 10 road marathons. I wanted to support him in his first marathon and celebrate his accomplishment of training consistently through the heat and cold of Utah’s extreme weather. Being in Canada and far away like I am it just wasn’t possible to be there in person. I decided I would run a marathon of my own in his honor and somehow I would be there with him in spirit.
I ate some breakfast of two fried eggs and some toast and jam.I have not had to really focus on fueling or hydration during long runs yet so I used this as an opportunity to see how well I could do. I packed a variety of snacks such as salted potatoes, peanut butter and honey, banana, and chips. I also packed 32 ounces of electrolyte drink and brought a gallon of water to fill my 16 ounce handheld.
The course I created is 4 loops and each loop is 10.5 km long and includes 3 summits and about 1500 feet of elevation gain and loss for a total of 4 loops, 12 summits, and 6000 feet gained and lost. After each loop I would pass by my car and be able to refuel and fill up my bottles.
I arrived at the designated parking spot to a chilly 55 degree and overcast day.It would be perfect conditions and allow me to properly cool off. I grabbed my bottles and started out nice and easy.My plan was to do each loop in 1 hour and 15 minutes for a total of 5 hours for the marathon.
Loop one was actually a lot more difficult than I anticipated. I didn’t get a ton of training in over the last few weeks and have been quite stressed and it was reflected in my heavy-footed trot towards the first summit. My goal was to quickly power hike all the 12 uphill’s and bomb the downs to make up time.The first 3 hills were quite easy and felt like small blips in my path but I knew they would get harder as the day progressed. Loop one was quite easy and I had to force myself to drink just so I could stay on point with my hydration. I flew through the last mile of single track quite quickly and reached my car at 1:07. Too fast I thought but no bother.
At the car I grabbed some corn chips, and ate about one red potato worth of salted potatoes. They tasted good and I washed it down with about 4 ounces of electrolyte drink. I refilled my hand held and got out of my car in about 3 minutes.
Loop two was by far the strongest of the four.I hit my stride and ran the flats with ease. I floated over the trails with my feet barely making contact with the ground. I grinded up each of the hills and tried to engage the glutes to take some stress off the quads and calves. I felt great!I had to really pull back on the reins because my body wanted to run the loop in less than an hour but I knew the run wasn’t even half over. So I forced myself into a painfully slow trot.During the last mile I had to hit the bushes.One challenge that is unique to me from other runner’s is the fact that I don’t have a large intestine and my food has a very short residence time in my digestive track. Running seems to speed the process along and one hour after eating seemed to do the trick for needing to hit the bushes. I quickly took care of business and hurried back to my car. This time I took 1:10:00 on the loop.
I ate half my PB&H and also downed about 8 ounces of electrolyte drink. I ate more potatoes but decided to opt out of the corn chips which seemed to make a reappearance several times during the previous lap (not that I puked or anything but you could tell they were being burped up).I spent 3 minutes at the car again.
I have run many runs this year that covered the two loops for a total of a half marathon on MountDoug.This was the first time that I ever went beyond the 6 summits and 13 miles. So as I started loop three I was entering new hallowed ground. I love the feeling of pushing into territory that I have never done before.
Summit 7 quickly reminded me that I had just climbed and descended 3,000 feet over the last two hours and had 6 more to go. I began to slow a bit and my lactic acid threshold began to deteriorate. The long gentle uphill stretch between summits 7 and 8 proved difficult and I took a small walking break for about 1 minute. This really helped and I was able to finish summits 8 and 9 with some discomfort but nothing too bad. Once again I had to head to the bushes at the exact same point as the previous loop. I guess I know that on long runs I have about 1 hour between eating until I have to find a stump. Good thing I run trails and not roads!I reached my car at a much slower time of 1:15:00 for the loop and the slower up hills and extra walking breaks all took their toll and I got a much slower loop.
At the aid station I dumped debris from my shoes, ate the rest of my sandwich, my potatoes, and my banana.I drank the rest of my electrolyte drink and took a deep breath. I had 10.5 km to go and 1500 feet of vert still to go and I was feeling it.
Summit 10 was brutal.My legs felt like jelly and there just wasn’t any strength left in them to draw from. The descent began to show me weaknesses in my downhill conditioning and for the first time this year I felt my quads begin to really get chewed up on the descent. The long slow grind up to summit 11 was absolutely brutal.I began to think about my friend Tim and wondered how his race went. I kept on trying to draw some strength from him and think about how he was covering the same distance at a much quicker rate in much higher temps. Somehow I knew he had run well and this seemed to give me some extra motivation. Yet I still had to walk most of this shallow stretch.My legs were just knackered!The last 5 miles were brutal and the last two summits were quite taxing. After the 12th summit I just had one long stretch of down hill to go. This is where the problem lied.Six-thousand feet of descent had taken its toll on my quads and they felt like they had gone through a meat grinder. I couldn’t believe how sore they were on the final descent. Suddenly my knees began to hurt and I realized my fatigued quads were not supporting my knees any longer and they were starting to track poorly and get inflamed. Rather than risk further injury I slowed down to a crawl and just coasted the last couple of miles. It wasn’t the strong finish I had in mind but I finished a really hilly and technical marathon at 5 hours 1 minute and 30 seconds. I would have loved to get a sub-5 but that was all I could do without getting injured.
What a great marathon!I can’t wait to improve and continue to work on my distances. I only lost 6 ounces during the run which was a testament to my attention to detail with my fueling and hydration. I only got sick once at the final summit and only for a few minutes. Overall I was quite happy with my first 5 hour run of the season.
Today’s song comes from the land of my roots Sweden and is from a Swedish duo called Familjen. The song is called “Det snurrar i min skalle”.I love the song though it is in Swedish.I also thought it fitting since the footage of the video comes from a Swedish faith healing evangelist from the 60’s, and since it was supposed to be the end of the world during my marathon I thought some sweet footage of this evangelist put to this awesome song was a nice fit.Enjoy!
I awoke this morning and loaded my running pack with 2.5 liters of water, my camera, and a peanut butter and honey (PB&H) sandwich. It was going to be my first 4 hour run I have done for many months. Since I am running strong and consistent, I felt I was ready to start doing what I love most- long runs with loads of relief.
I picked the Gowland Tod Range to run for several reasons. First it starts at about sea level and climbs as high as about 1350 feet at Jocelyn Hill and then dives down again and back up to 1000 feet at Holmes Peak after which you turn around and climb them both again in reverse. In total it has some good elevation and relief. The second reason I love this route is the views are breath taking. The entire trail parallels the Finlayson Arm of the Saanich Inlet and you can see the ocean, surrounding mountains, and forest. I believe every trail runner should have an opportunity to run this course at least once in there lives.
The weather was superb without a cloud in the sky and temps were hovering around 60. After arriving at the trail head I started my run and within about 10 minutes found myself cranking up the first hill, which climbs unrelentingly for several miles. The trail is rocky and winds it's way from near the ocean south towards Squally Reach. My legs were a bit tired from this week's runs but once I started motoring up the trail I began to relax and find my pace. Though not the fastest pace, it was maintainable and comfortable, and I knew it would last for 4 hours so I stuck with it.
Squally Reach in the Gowland Tod Range. Floating over the grassy hummocks!
I arrived at the squally reach lookout and drank in the most amazing view. I could see the ocean and Salt Spring Island, even Mt. Baker was dimly visible looming over the eastern skyline. I ran across the grassy hummocks and could swear I was floating.
After playful running on the reach I began to turn my attention to summiting Jocelyn. Jocelyn is a large grass covered blister rising nearly 1400 feet above the ocean. The trail from Squally Reach to Jocelyn undulates and ascends and descends over uneven terrain. Though most of it hovers around the same elevation there is plenty of ups and downs to keep you earning your forward progress. You feel you are nearly to the summit but then the trail turns north and you almost back track a Km before curving around to the south again. After turning to the south you begin to overlook the ocean once again and the views are breathtaking.
Approaching Jocelyn Peak with the Saanich Inlet behind me.
Leaving the Summit of Jocelyn.
The summit was a perfect place to stretch out on a rock and enjoy my PB&H. The sun cut through my sweaty shirt, warming my body all the way through. I closed my eyes and just let my mind wander. My thoughts turned to my summer plans and I decided that I really want to hike Lone Peak with my wife. Lone Peak is an 11,000 + footer rising directly over the Salt Lake valley with nearly 6,200 feet of prominence, it is not for the average weekend warrior.
When we were first married we would hike almost year round often in remote and unknown places. I recall many long drives in my jeep as we listened to music and discussed everything from our favorite movies to our future plans. These trips made our relationship grow so much stronger and created a depth that wouldn't have existed without these precious adventures. Now after the children have arrived I realize that I really miss hiking with my wife and I decided I will take advantage of having family around this Summer to watch our kids while we go and have another adventure. I hope Vye will be game. I snap out of my daydream and decide I better get busy and continue on to Holmes Peak.
Holmes Peak is the small blister (barely visible) in the foreground on the ridge with the taller hill behind it being Mount Finlayson.
The trail to Holmes Peak is very straight forward but I still veered off the main ridge and descended about 500 feet to a main road and realized I just tacked on about 3 extra miles and 500 extra feet of elevation up and down. I don't care, there is no need to stick to a plan I am just running where ever I feel like it. I regain the ridge and decide rather than turn around I will continue on to Holmes Peak.
Trail towards Holmes Peak.
Trail to Holmes over some rusty (gossanous) soil.
I reach the small peak and push quickly to the top. I then decided to finish my sandwich and get heading back. The sun is much warmer now as the day has progressed but I don't mind, I missed the warmth during the sun's 6 month hiatus from the Island. I worked my way back towards the arbutus tree-strewn ridge that hooks back up with Jocelyn. I am now feeling the distance and time on my feet. My legs are toast as I continue to climb.
I forgot the feeling that comes after several hours of hard trail running. The legs ache and elevation is not won so readily. I persevere through and begin to push a bit just for fun. I summit Jocelyn again and take one last look at the view.
The undulating terrain between Jocelyn and Squally really takes it out of me. I begin to have to power hike a few of the steeper hills and I can tell my body is burned out. After a long struggle I reach the Squally and only need to run down hill from that point. The quads feel like they have just gone through a meat grinder but I like it in a way only a distance trail runner could understand. I can feel that I really pushed myself and that I was operating near my maximum for the day. I know that I put everything I had to give into the run and I know that I am back to running 4 hours again. Everything is right in the world, I got the treasure that comes after you have done everything you can. My hydration and fuel were on point and I never felt thirsty or hungry. It was a great day! As I drive home I analyze my run and feel satisfied with it. I can't wait to try it again!
The video below is of the same trail but I made it a different day. Enjoy!
Today's song comes from Finland by a small duo named "Villa Nah". They are a synth duo with many great songs. Today's song is called "Emerald Hills" and though it really wasn't in my head during the run it kind of summed up my run today as I was climbing an emerald hill. I like the song and think that it fits perfect for spring trail running on Vancouver Island.
Several weeks have passed since my candidacy exam. The exam was one of the most stressful and pressurized situations I have ever been in. I had studied well and felt prepared but after nearly 6 weeks of 12-17 hours a day right up until I took the exam I realized that my brain was revolting and as the questions were asked my mind turned into a thick fog and a million fragmented pieces that I couldn't form together to make any sense. I was grasping and grasping but there was nothing there. It is the first time in my life that my mind froze like that. I was able to struggle through the exam and answer enough so that I somehow passed in the end, but I was really disappointed because my performance didn't represent what I really know. That being said, the exam came and went and I was able to get back to my experiments, research, and also running. For the first week or two following my exam my running was weak and inconsistent because of the 6 week running hiatus, foul weather, and because the stress from the exam took some time to completely dissolve away. This past week though, my running has improved drastically without the stress of the exam holding me back. I have felt like I have been running free for the first time in many months if not in over a year.
Monday was warmer than it has been all year and so I stripped down to a single shirt and shorts which felt amazing after 6 months of tights, toques, layers, gloves, and sleeves. I had been training for the past few weeks with a pack to prepare for my long Summer mountain run and so without the weight I felt extremely light and nimble. I ran really strong and summited Mount Doug 6 times for a total of about 3,000 feet of vertical both up and down. I just flew through the trails. I felt something that had been missing for some time...the twinge of a runners high...the warm glow that accompanies a runner when life is balanced and everything is in it's place!
Today I didn't have the option to drive to the trail head so I had to run the 3 mile evil black strip of asphalt, choked with walkers and automobile exhaust. The run started partly cloudy and about 55 degrees (perfect for running) and within 10 minutes my legs began to really start moving. It was one of those rare times where the legs crank like some sort of perpetual motion machine. The more I pushed them the faster they seemed to respond and it felt I was getting much more out of my legs than the energy I was investing. This carried me to the trail head and beyond the road extremely fast. I chose to do the more challenging and steep reverse route of the Mount Doug Gutbuster. As I was approaching the first summit the sun peered out of a dark veil of clouds and back lit a million succulent chartreuse leaves making them have the appearance of fluttering green butterflies. My spirits lifted as I rounded the corner to my first steep summit. The effects of the 3000 feet from Monday's run apparently hadn't fully left my system, and my legs began to fatigue. I pushed them right up to my lactic threshold trying to push beyond it so next run I can push it back even more. I tore down the mountain after summiting and felt the warmth from the patches of exposed sunlight between the new foliage-choked trees. After my descent I began a long and steady uphill grade to my next summit. I kept the legs spinning but they were tired. I didn't care I was free in the forest with my thoughts (free from stress and baggage that comes from feeling guilty if you aren't studying).
I began to think ahead 72 days when me and my best friend(s) line up at Smith and Morehouse Reservoir and begin our 24-ish mile run through Utah's Uinta Mountains to where we finally will summit Bald Mountain at 11,947 feet after 6,000 feet of vert. Is there still going to be too much snow in July? Will I be ready by then only being able to train at sea level and having no time to acclimatize? Questions began to spin around in my head. I began to think about Tim and I as we have spent many Summer's camping hiking and fishing in the shadows of the Uinta Mountains and now almost 20 years after our friendship began we will be running the same hallowed trails. I remember hiking there with Tim's dad and hearing him tell us how he used to run those trails and I couldn't fathom being able to do that and now I am months away.
The steep face of the last 100 feet of my second summit snapped me out of my thoughts and I began to grind up the steep face. On top I pound the last slug of water from my Ultimate Direction water bottle, I knew I could use all the fluids I could get with the sun now warming the temps. I glide down the slope and head for my final summit, the Bedrock Buster. The climb is steep and brutal and my legs are toast by this point. I pushed myself and ran on the exposed rib of diorite making up the trail. I catch my breath and am shocked to find dozens of people on the summit apparently deciding to crawl out of their holes to soak up some sun after driving to the top like hibernating critters. I decide not to linger in the crowds and plummet off the summit and down the mountain and instantly find myself alone again. My thoughts wander back to home and bounce from mountains in Utah and Colorado I want to summit, to the Himalayas. I wonder if I could ever accomplish my dream of summiting an 8,000 meter peak and what kind of money and kitchen pass I would have to come up with to attempt this. My legs are now spent as I reach the road. I painfully push myself the remaining few miles to my house. I feel I am ready for my first 4 hour run of the year. I will use the Easter weekend to run the Gowland Tod range and clock some time on my feet in that beautiful and under-utilized range just minutes away from Victoria. What a great feeling to be running free again!
Since my legs felt perpetual today I decided to post a song called "Perpetual" by Irish/British electronic group VNV Nation. VNV has components of Synthpop, Industrial, Trance and EMB sounds. The name stands for "Victory not Vengeance" in keeping with the band's motto that "One should strive to succeed, not sit in bitter regret." The song has a very perpetual motion sound to it and I like to use it as means of pushing myself during tough stretches or even to accompany me when running well like most of today. I saw these guys live in Salt Lake a few years ago and was really impressed with the positive energy and the great show they put on. Enjoy some Perpetual!
Today was hill repeat day. One of my favorites as far as training goes. The idea was to run a total of 1500' up and down in less than an hour. I had Vye drop me off on the mountain because she was taking the kids to swimming lessons at the nearby rec center. I told her to pick me up in an hour and off I went. It started to flurry about the second I started my run. It was really peaceful, tranquil and the mountain was almost devoid of life (my last few runs there have been terribly crowded). I warmed up for 5 minutes up to where the trail turns right up the south face. I really focused on pushing myself much harder than last week and nailed my first 500' quite quickly. I tightened my shoes in preparation for the steep downhill and began to realize that the slope was going to be quite slippy from the newly fallen snow. Apparently I didn't learn my lesson from Saturday's icy descent because I just flew right down the steep South slope of Doug with no questions asked. There was one time where I almost lost my footing which is surprising considering this pair of Brooks I am running have over 1000 miles on them and their tread is basically gone. I exited the rocks and really flew down the steep dirt trails below the rocks. I find I am a lot slower on my downhill currently than the last two years and I need to make some improvements in that arena (thats what these hill repeats are for). The second summit was a bit harder and I ended up running weakly nearly the entire 500' up. I chalk this up to mental weakness, because on my third and final summit of the day I decided I needed to stop being a wuss and hammer it. So with a 1000' behind me I hammered the last 500' with reckless abandon. The snow really began to fly and it almost pushed me to run harder. Within minutes of starting my final summit my legs found a strong pace where I was taking quick bites out of the hill. At the summit the skies opened up and as I began my descent the city below was swallowed up in a swirling blizzard. It really was an amazing site. I was concerned that Vye would arrive at the parking lot before I did and worry I was dead on the side of the hill so I really pushed and sprinted the last 500 meters to the meeting spot. I ended up beating her there by about 8 minutes and finished my entire run in about 57 minutes. I honestly have no idea what sort of distance I covered but know roughly what the elevation is. What a great run. Can't wait to nail 2000' next week!
As I flew down the steep snowy slopes and slipped on the rocks I began to think how easy it would be to get killed if I wasn't careful or just made a clumsy error. This put a song called "Death" in my head by a group called "White Lies". The group is a Indie Pop group from England and were influenced by Talking Heads, Tears for Fears, Joy Division, and Interpol. I am including the original and a remix by Crystal Castles whom I posted a song from last post. I like both versions of the song and prefer one over the other depending on my mood. I realize the lyrics and song title are a little dark but hey, when your are gripping to the side of a snow-covered rocky slope by your worn out Brooks these thoughts are not unrealistic. I hope you enjoy! (I couldn't embed the originals so if you are interested in the actual video you will have to go to you tube to watch).
The first snow of the year in Victoria and a frigid 20 F (-7C) run on Mount Doug.
It has a been two months since I updated last so suffice to say a lot has happened. The major events that happened in the last 8 weeks were the Haney to Harrison relay race I did on the 6th of November, finishing my PhD proposal, having my Candidacy meeting with my committee and laying out the topics of my exam.
Haney to Harrison Race Recap
My training leading up to this event was like all my running this year inconsistent. I trained well from the last week of September into the second week of October including a 70 mile week. I was consistent and really enjoying myself. Then I was hit with an upper respiratory infection and rather than risk getting sicker I took the next couple of weeks off from training. I figured that if I trained hard and got super sick I might not have a shot to compete but if I took the time off and got better I would be able to race and finish my leg it just wouldn't be fast. My plan worked well and my lungs cleared about the first of November. I got one or two small runs in the week of the race but really my fitness stunk so I just planned on relaxing and enjoying the run.
The family and I headed to Chilliwack a day before the race and met up with my good friend Rob who was excited to have us over for a pasta dinner and really made our stay in Chilliwack happen. He was going to run the second leg right before me but after the Iowa marathon in September he was concerned about a foot injury. So he decided to run support and did a great job with our team. I met the team first thing in the morning (4:30am) on the day of the race and quickly breathed a sigh of relief when I realized the team was comprised completely of amateurs so there was no pressure to kill myself on zero training. The weather was quite foggy and perhaps 40 degrees out. The lead leg gal ran a very slow time and finished her 8 km leg in over an hour which as far as speed goes is nearly walking but she was our oldest team mate and was quite positive, happy, and seemed to enjoy her whole leg other than the last slow gradual hill.
Our second leg runner was actually Rob's Dr. Office nutritionist and was a last minute replacement for Rob. She had an extremely hilly run with tons of ups and downs and nailed her 13 km's in about an hour and twenty. I was waiting anxiously at the change station and the line to the two porto pots was ridiculous so I hit the bushes and when I popped out I saw our team mate coming in to the station. I took a deep breath and jogged over just as she swiped the chip (with some difficulty and unsureness if it worked or not) and handed it over to me.
My leg was pretty awesome. The entire run was through the forest and consisted of about 750 feet of elevation right in the first mile with multiple switch-backs. It then was undulating for a few miles and then was a gradual down grade to the end, the total distance was about 16 Km or 10 miles. I ran the first mile extremely strong and passed multiple runners and stuck with some of the faster runners all the way up the switch backs. My legs felt great but the lungs were not happy due to the recent bout of respiratory drama I still hadn't quite gotten over. After the summit I quickly found a strong pace that allowed me to be comfortable but still kept things moving along. At about mile 4 I began to feel the effects of my strong push at the beginning and I completely melted down to a crawl. I fought through the tough spot and rallied two miles later. This rally carried me at a strong pace for the next 2.5 miles. I felt pretty good but could tell that I was going to crash before the finish. I slowed my pace down a bit and sure enough at 8.5 my lack of training caught up to me and I crashed hard. The next little bit was extremely painful and I just didn't have the speed work or a consistent base to draw from so I basically came to a crawl. I began to get passed by quite a few runners and I got a bit frustrated. I had to keep in mind the majority of the runners are not balancing family, candidacy, proposal, PhD research etc. So I dug deep and with a half mile to go I was chagrined to see Rob waiting to run me into the gate. I pushed like a mad man to match his pace and was able to finish quite strong. My total time was an embarrassing hour and twenty according to my watch but the official time was slower perhaps due to some issues with the transition at the second switch. I was tired but actually recovered quite quickly and could have ran another leg if they needed me to. I drank a gatorade and then we drove back to exchange vehicles and runners for our last four team mates.
I was looking forward to seeing Vye and the kids along the course and was hoping that Vye could snag a picture of me looking epic. Unfortunately I didn't see her along the way and actually spotted her on the freeway on our way back to Chilliwack. She looked visibly upset. After meeting up with her at the hotel she explained how every road was closed so she could not approach the course at all with the children and cameras etc. She finally drove to the finish line and by the time she found parking and made her way to the station the officials informed her I had finished 10 minutes earlier. She was crushed and frustrated and the kids were upset they missed their dad's race. After Vye and the kids settled down we went to the pool and I sat in the Jacuzzi for an hour. We ate and then drove to the finish line to meet up with the remainder of the team. It was fun to see the last person come in and though I believe our team was perhaps the slowest we had fun. I was happy to know that I ran my hilly 16 Km leg in just a few minutes slower than it took two of our team mates to run their 8 Km legs. So I feel even though I was slow and not in racing shape I still was the strongest of our funny little team and we all really enjoyed the experience especially because it was the last official running of the H2H with it being switched to Whistler next year.
Thesis Work
The Tuesday following my race was the date of my Candidacy committee meeting. I had to prepare a presentation to give to my committee and answer their questions. This left little time between getting back to Victoria Sunday night and the meeting two days later. I luckily got a presentation together and felt I nailed it. My advisor and committee then informed me what they would like me to study for my candidacy exam. All and all it well and now I know what to expect for that exam. The timing made it impossible to train for my race properly but I arranged my priorities and figured I have my whole life to run but my PhD is a one time shot so I better not blow it.
What's next?
My running since has actually improved a bunch. I nailed 5 runs last week and I am starting strong this week even though it is quite chilly (20 F or -7 C) and snowy. I am really just doing multiple short runs right now with some longer runs on the weekend and I am just using the next 6 weeks as a base-building phase and will take off with a more tailored training approach after I have been consistent for a bit.
My race goals for next year are nearly non-existent but the trails I would like to run are quite epic. I would love to run from Smith and Morehouse in Utah's Uinta Mountains to Bald Mountain with my friend Tim. I would also enjoy running Mt. Arrowsmith here on the island. I am planning on speed hiking the Golden Hinde as well. Additional plans include the Tushar Range in Central Utah and a few other peaks in the Northern Wasatch. We will see how it all plays out.
New Music
It has been 15 years since the synthpop band OMD (Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark) has released an album. The band started by accident as the two main members used to play around on their synths in their mothers back room on Saturday afternoons. Friends told them to do a live show so they chose the first ridiculous name that came to mind not realizing they were about to become one of the biggest influences on the electronic scene for the next decade and a half. After many albums and hits around the world they broke up and now have released a new album earlier this Fall titled "History of Modern". I love that the band has stayed true to their original sound and though many bands try to reinvent themselves when releasing a new album OMD has taken a different approach and brought back many of the old sounds and styles of Synths from the 70's and 80's. They figured with all the new bands coming out that have a synth component and site OMD as one of their influences that if anyone should sound like OMD it is OMD and there is still a niche for their music. Today as I was chugging in the crystalline morning air one of their new songs was in my mind and powered me over the frozen terrain of Mount Doug "The History of Modern Part 1". I hope you enjoy their new stuff as much as me.
Wow - This post has been in the making for three weeks now. I can't believe it has taken me this long to write about my running exploits. School is definitely heating up as I prep for my candidacy and try to get my research rolling in the right direction.
To begin three weeks ago I cranked out an 18 mile run in the beautiful and scenic Gowlland Tod Provincial Park, in anticipation for a 50km run on the Juan De Fuca. This is the first time I ran the full "Half Monte" course which is 25 km, and then I threw another 3 miles distance in due to a wrong turn to add some significant elevation and get me really good and tired. I was running for over 3 hours without a break and ran with my hydration pack I had bought earlier this Spring (Click here to see the southern 7.1 miles of the course, this was a new course added to the gutbuster series this year but I think they had to change it due to use restrictions). This run was really a great one. I first ascended a major hill that really only flattens out once or twice along the way for a few hundred meters over several miles. I was able to run this first major stretch without hiking or walking and all my hill training really gave me deep hill climbing reserves to draw from. I summited Jocelyn and took in the amazing views and reached the next stretch which is a descent to the base of Holmes peak, a short but sweet little climb. I chose this day to run because I had cloud cover and even though I was running at mid day I never over-heated. I summited Holmes easily and my legs still felt great as I approached the six mile mark in a little over an hour. I ran to the turn-around point at Caleb's Pike and began to retrace my trail. I decided to summit Holmes again even thought the Monty bypasses the summit on the return trip I believe. I was still feeling strong. As I approached Jocelyn again, the course takes a different trail then the one you come in on, so I thought I had turned onto the correct trail I needed but really I was on a little side trail that leads out of the park via a steep descent. Well 10 minutes later I realized I made a 1.5 mile super descent in the wrong direction, so I had to regain the ridge by a 1 mile 1000 foot climb, now I had been running for over 15 miles and my legs finally started to break down (it is amazing how fast you can descend on a wrong trail and before you know it 10 minutes turns into a mile and a half, and then you have to turn around and climb the hill that was so easy to coast down previously). After regaining the ridge I began to crash a little and could tell that I was a bit short on calories. I shuffled along and finished all the uphill and flat stuff at the top and just had the final couple miles descent. This typically is where I excel but my legs were toast and I found myself gingerly picking a nice controlled trot down the hill instead of blasting down it like I normally would. I got to my car in a little over three hours but that included several scenic stops and breaks to take in the views and relax in the cool wind. I was stoked with the run and thought it was perfect to push myself distance-wise and help me understand how I handle longer distances in rough terrain a little better.
The awesome thing about this trail system is just how little use it gets. I have been on this trail a dozen times and have never observed more than perhaps 10 hikers in one day and in the case of this run I only saw two. Sometimes I worry that if I ate it really hard, like a broken/sprained ankle, it may be hours before I could find someone with a phone or who could help. If this trail system was only 25 minutes from the Wasatch Front I assume there would be 100's of hikers on it a day. I feel that many Victorians don't take advantage of the awe-inspiring trails and parks they have at their doorstep, maybe because of just how surrounded by wilderness they are. Perhaps you have to live in the desert to appreciate amazing trails and forests that are so accessible. Another great thing about this run is the views. You start near sea level and climb straight up to almost 1500 feet where you catch expansive views of the Saanich Inlet, a small arm of the ocean that splits the southern end of the island into two pieces. Another awesome thing about this trail is it is purely narrow rocky, rooty single track. I really can't talk this run up enough. It is worth the 25 minute drive to get there. In the future I think I can tack some more distance in the form of adding a double crossing of Mount Work and also Mount Finlayson making a total of 4 peaks climbed twice each and nearly a Marathon in distance and perhaps 10,000' of accumulated elevation (perhaps over estimated in elevation and distance but it would be significant none-the-less). So that is a goal I am aiming to do. I would expect that trip to take over 5 hours and even closer to 6 based on my current fitness and speed but it could perhaps be run in 4 hours by an elite. I have never heard of anyone actually doing this in one go, it would be a really great training run for a long hilly mountain ultra.
I have also started to run earlier in the morning instead of the evening. This means getting up at 5:00. I had a great run on Mount Doug the other day at 6:00 am. I was cruising in my usual direction in the early dawn light and within a km found myself surround by a symphony of sounds that I don't typically hear in the evening. Two owls with there deep hoots were calling back and forth across the trail and it was super eerie to run right through their hooting in the light fog and morning glow. As I climbed Irvine I began to hear white tail deer grunting perhaps a precursor to the rut. It was the first time I have ever heard deer. It was amazing. There was a whole cornucopia of sound I seldom hear. I really was in awe of the amount of wildlife in the park. I only ever notice the deer but there is so much more active wildlife in the morning. One of my early morning runs found clouds over Belingham to the East but a sliver in the clouds allowed the rising sun to only be seen by its reflection off the ocean and quite literally looked as if it was DESCENDING from the strand line of the water and land (like an upside down sunrise) instead of rising. I am going to try to keep my morning runs going since it allows me to be more flexible in my evenings with my family and studies. I am more tired though and have to go to bed by about 11 or I am hooped.
So I have had a "core dilemma" ever since I had part of my ab muscle removed in 2005. My Doc told me that no physical therapy would be needed since you use your core a lot and it rehabilitates itself. Well I took him at his word and didn't really do anything to strengthen it. In fact I have done almost zero targeted core work since my surgeries 5 years ago. Prior to my surgeries I had an insane core, I remember when I was 18 doing 2,000 various crunches and ab exercises in one go just to see what it would take to reach exhaustion. I think that for the last five years I have just assumed I still have that sort of core strength to draw from. I DO NOT! I tried a 15 minute ab workout the other day because anytime I run far it is my core that fails not legs. Within seven minutes into the workout I was thrashed. It took everything I had to do the 25 reps of each exercise. I had to stop in places just so I could finish my reps. In the end I can't believe how entirely weak my core is. The next three days I paid a steep price and couldn't laugh or sit up without killing myself. My conclusion is I have a core dilemma that is going to take many many hours of work to fix. I can't believe how weak my core is and that I haven't really thought about the repercussions of being gutted like a fish and having ab muscle removed. Wish me luck because I have some serious work to do and I almost can't stand the thought of assaulting my core like that again but it should become a 3 time a week ordeal at least. Yikes!! I can't believe how weak I am!
This is just a taste of my running over the past three weeks and though school is almost too much to balance in my running currently I am still trying to force in some miles and get strong. It is really a battle of will at this point because it is taking everything I have to get things done in all facets of my life due to my workload. A PhD is a daunting undertaking and I am not sure that I fully comprehended what it would take. It is a significant step up from a masters.
The song I am including today is "Ghost White" by Swedish Synthpop band Rupesh Cartel. I have loved this song for years now. It is melancholy and yet upbeat at the same time. It is an interesting juxtaposition I think. I have a great acoustic version but can't find a vid to embed. The original is great anyways. I don't know if because I am Swedish I am genetically engineered to like music coming out of Sweden but I find I have a large collection of artists from the homeland. I hope it expands your musical vocab a little!
The sun was cooking my back and the sweat was already pouring off the brim of my hat. I had only been running for two kilometers. I was running my 14th run in 11 days and Victoria was in the throws of a heat spell. I knew going into week two of this training block that I would have a tough go since past experience had shown me the middle of week two usually turns into an absolute battle for survival. I turned onto Whitaker and started my first summit push of the day. I couldn't believe it I had absolutely nothing to give. Even before I reached the steeper portion of the Irvine climb I found myself out of breath and my heart was pounding in my chest like a runaway train. I hit a particular steep exposed section and really pushed myself up the hill. As I reached the crest of the scorching little climb my head began to spin and I was swimming in dizziness. I began to alternate short jogs and power hikes as I approached the summit. The last 200 meters were completely in the sun and as I topped out I sat down on a rock complete deflated. I felt like I was giving the run everything I had to give but already I was 4 minutes behind my usual pace and still had 35 minutes and about 6.5 kms to go. I clumsily stumbled down the steep rock slope of the bedrock buster and felt my legs turn to jello as I shuffled through dancing waves of heat rising from the scoured rock. I didn't turn left like I normally would if I was doing the full course, but instead hung a "Randy" and headed right back down to my car. The total run still took me nearly 48 minutes and on a good day would only take 30. I knew that I had finally crossed "the line".
Training for an ultra requires a ton of work and consistency but it also requires a balance of easy runs and careful planning to prevent over-training. I feel to properly train you have to constantly be pushing yourself right up to the threshold of over-trained, without ever actually crossing over. It sounds easy in theory but in practice it is like tightrope walking on 200lb test monofilment stretched over a yawning chasm of over-training induced symptoms and injuries. I knew that I just fell off my precarious perch of "just enough" and was now thrown into the middle of the abyss of misery that is to be over-trained.
As I trudged home that night, after my terrible run, I began to become a victim of one of the worst side effects of over-training, the mood swing. It started a few days earlier as I found that my typically good-natured self seemed to be replaced by an irritable and moody monster. After my terrible run I was playing an innocent game of clue with my wife and her younger sister, I threw a tantrum when I was thoroughly bested by my better half. I left the room and began to read my book and sulk, not about the game (that was just the straw that broke the camels back), but about my terrible run and the fact that it was feeling like my running was getting worse and not better. I knew I still have a ridiculous long way to go, and I was frustrated that I was set back because of my fainting spells last fall. Vye came up to try to sleuth out what was causing this Dr. Jekel and Mr. Hide reaction. I began to vent and really began to realize that perhaps most frustrating of all was coming to grips with giving up on a leg of research that I had devoted the last two years of my life to. A few days earlier my advisor and I reached the conclusion that this particular approach to the problem was not going to work. Two years of 30 hour experiments and trips to Vancouver to analyze my results, and then back to Uvic to analyze with the laser seemed like it was all for not. I was in a very dark place. As I vented if finally dawned on me that my mood shifted several days earlier and that I was not being myself. I began to piece together other clues such as my elevated heart-rate and breathlessness, my out-of-control hunger, and the insomnia that had plagued me for 3 nights in a row now. I was in the middle of over-trained-itis
I quickly apologized for being grumpy and explained what had caused it. The following day I took a much needed break, the first one in 12 days. The next morning I was still not my old self but I felt I was improving. I decided to take the following day off as well.
Last night a small cold front blew in and dropped temperatures significantly. I had taken a slow easy run or two after my two day break. Tonight I was now ready to really run again. The wind was still gusting and the temperatures were in the high 50's perfect for a strong run. I felt well fueled and hydrated and decided to run the Gutbuster course in reverse (a much steeper and more challenging run than usual). I busted into a trot and within three minutes of running reached my first climb, a steep relentless attack of the South face. I typically run down this trail when running the normal direction, but tonight I bounded up it like one of the many bucks I spooked on the side of the trail today. My legs were strong and I began to get into a rhythm. I could hear my feet striking the earth with a metered thud. Almost on cue a strong wind would blow through the trees about every four steps joined by a song of an unidentifiable bird, almost like a concerto playing over my percussive foot strikes. I began to relax and all my senses became enhanced as I continued to listen to the music of the trail. Above tree line a plant covered in black-seeded pods began to join the orchestra of noise. The song now took on an almost tribal feel as the rattles began to grow in both tempo and volume. I became elated as I realized I was running through the notes of a song that only I could hear. A song that can only be heard if you are in the right place at the right time and are paying attention to the mountain and what it is trying to convey. The summit came too quick but for those few short minutes I experienced something almost outer-bodily as I actually felt what it is like to run through a masterpiece. During that portion of my run time seemed to stretch endlessly before me yet it ended so abruptly it felt like a blink of an eye.
The remainder of the run was fueled by that amazing runner's high. I had overcome the spell of being over-trained and found myself in the middle of one of my strongest and definitely the most magical run of the year.
I don't have a song to embed in this post because there is nothing that could do the music I heard tonight on the trails of Vancouver Island justice. I heard the music of the trail.
