30 Km Solo Night Run

I originally wrote most of this blog back in June, shortly after completing the run.  

But in the business of training, 
I forgot about posting it and just recently found it.  
Enjoy.  

"The sun setting in the west."

Every long run should start with a plan.  A loose plan at least... more of an idea of what your goals might be for that run.  This run, I had actually been thinking about for several weeks while on shorter runs.  I wasn't sure when I could fit the run into my schedule and who would go with me.  With the 125 km, 24 hour Canadian Death Race only 6 weeks away, my training was starting to intensify.  I had never run for any extended period of time at night, and I wanted to experience night running before race day.

I didn't really have a target distance in mind, but I wanted to run for a least 4 hours; all in darkness.  The plan was to start running at sunset and run until the sun came up again.  This would give me the opportunity to test out my new headlamp as well as see first hand, the effects of fatigue while running at night. It would also give me the opportunity to see how caffeine pills would affect me.  Evergreen Park, just to the east of Grande Prairie seemed like the perfect area to do the run.

A day or to prior to the planned run, I put a post on our run group Facebook page, looking for a someone to run with me all night on Friday... surprise, surprise!  There were no takers!  No one seemed to have my same sense of adventure!!  Many of the runners in the group had already run the Death Race so they had previous experience running at night.  Some already had a long run planned for Saturday morning.

After a few last minute pleas to my running  friends, I discovered that drinking a beer or two was the more common practise for most people on a Friday evening.... and even I know that running 30 km after a couple beer is not fun!!!  So I set my mind to the fact that I would be doing this run solo.

Late in the afternoon, a massive thunderstorm moved through the area.  Heavy rain caused local flooding in town.  I began to worry about the trail conditions.  Most of the trails were sandy, but I knew there were many sections of muskeg that I would have to navigate around, or through.

The forecast called for the rain to stop by 8 PM.  Then the temperature would be dropping to an overnight low of only 7° C with patchy fog.

My wife had gone out for the evening with a friend and I anticipated her back by 11PM.  My target start time was right at sunset, 11:30 PM.   After putting the girls to bed, I started to get my gear ready.

In the process, I carefully considered the risks associated with the run.  This would be my first time on many of these trails.  There is good cell service in the area and Google Maps shows most of trails and roads.  If I got lost, I knew I would find my way back, eventually.  I wasn't too worried about that though.  I would also be running by myself all night which brings up other risks.  One section of the trail that I had run in the winter, I had been warned it was often frequented by bears.

"My trail through the woods."

I have been hunting and hiking in the woods since I was very young, so this didn't really bother me...and I had bear spray!!  I always carry matches, a survival blanket, and a small first aid kit. I added an extra change of warm clothes to my pack and some extra food, just in case.  I also didn't really know how long I was going to be out there. I knew there would be few, if any, good water sources. So I packed an extra 500 ml flask of water for a total of 2 litres.  I also had my main headlamp, and a headlamp that I was going to try as a waist lamp, plus two other headlamps....just in case.  I had spare batteries for the ones that needed them, and two portable chargers that could be used to recharge my phone or my main headlamp.

My pack was full!!!  On long runs, I like to keep it well under 10 lbs; closer to 7 lbs if possible.  But tonight, with all my extra gear, it weighed in at 12 pounds.

When my wife arrived home about 10:30, I was pretty much ready to go.  I went over my list of gear with her, and my rough, approximate.... tentative route.  When she asked who all was going with me.... I replied I would be doing this one solo. I could see the concern on her face.

Half marathons no longer bother her, and even full marathons don't give her much concern any more, but by the look on her face, I could tell she felt a bit different about this run.  I never would have admitted to her at the time; but I knew this run would push my limits to new boundaries. Deep inside, I shared some of her concerns.  I reassured her that there was good cell coverage in the area and I promised her that I would do Facebook Live updates every hour, so in the unfortunate event that I got lost, they would know roughly where to come looking for me!!  (I'm not sure if that consoled her too much...)

After giving her a hug and a kiss "goodnight", I was on my way.  The sun was nearing the horizon in the west as I drove out the Evergreen Park.  The recent thunder storm was slowly fading in the eastern sky.  The heavy rain had settled all the dust and driven the mosquitoes into hiding.  The air smelled clean and promised of a refreshing night of running.

I left the truck in the usual spot at the "dog park" where we often start our runs.  It seemed odd to be starting a run at dusk.  The parking lot which is usually occupied by other vehicles or horse trailers was empty....I was the only one starting out on the trail.  I was already alone!

Once on the trail, I started my first Facebook Live video.  Since it was only 11:30 several of my friends watched the video and shared encouraging words....some questioned my sanity (and a little part of me questioned my own sanity)!!!

Ending the video, I started to run.  It didn't take long to discover the lamp I had mounted on the chest strap of my pack was not going to work.  The constant bouncing nearly made me nauseous in the first 100 meters so I stopped to make my first "gear adjustment".

I removed a strap from another headlamp and made it as large as possible.  Then put it around my waist and mounted the headlamp to it.  This configuration seemed to work well.  The lamp illuminated the trail for 10 or 15 feet directly in front of me while I could still scan the surrounding area with my much brighter headlamp.

A kilometre or two down the trail, I came to the top of the first hill which was in a small clearing.  I could hear the mosquito hawks flying around in the distance, but one seemed to be attracted to my headlamp and made a low diving pass at me!  That totally messed up my target heart rate, but also made me pick up my pace a bit too.  Throughout the night, this became a frequent ritual with the hawks.  The bugs must have been attracted to my headlamp, which made them an easy target for the hungry birds.

"The first section of single track."

I was familiar with the first 3 or 4 kilometres of the trail, but when the trail continued east, I found myself in new territory.  The heavy rain that had stopped just a few hours earlier left the sandy trail very firm and in ideal running condition.  I was able to make good time.  Then the quad trail I was following seemed to split into several different directions.  I looked at the map on my phone and chose the north fork, which I could tell was going to lead me into a swamp.  But I could see the trail that I wanted continued on the other side.

The first water crossing is always the most hesitant.  I tried to pick my way through the tall grass, but it came to the place where I had to just commit and get wet.  I used my poles to gauge the water depth and roughly determine how deep I would sink into the smelly muskeg.  Soon the water was mid thigh, and my footing was much less than ideal.  I had never heard of quicksand in northern Alberta, but I have heard of large pieces of equipment sinking out of sight in muskeg.  My best option was to get through fast, so I made my way to the closest willow bush, then on to the next.  Within 100 meters, I was through the first water hazard and back on the sandy quad track.

The trail wound its way through small logging blocks and around most of the low lying areas.  The terrain was dotted with small swamps surrounded by rolling hills.  By now, it was nearing 1AM and just as the forecast had predicted the temperature started to drop.  Soon fog started to form in the low spots.  Under the fog was incredibly cold, then as I would run up the next hill, the air would be noticeably warmer at the top.  I was wearing full length running tights, shorts, and a long sleeve shirt, but I stopped and put on my windbreaker to cut the chilly, damp air.

"The toad"

The sandy trails showed no fresh sign of any wildlife other than a large toad that crossed the trail in front of me, and a set of moose tracks that I followed down the trail for a while. The trail ran parallel to the creek for about 12 kilometres.  From kilometre 8 to kilometre 12 I was somewhat familiar with the trail.  Last winter, Daryl and I ran down the frozen creek, then came up onto the trail for a ways.  He told me this area was frequented by bears in the summer; but I was relieved to see no sign of any recent activity.

At km 12, the main trail goes north about 2 kilometres to a residential area, but trail I wanted to follow was less travelled and headed south.  The quad track was still very visible, but it was not worn into the sand as the trail had previously been.  For about 6 kilometres the trail made its way through small logging blocks.  It wound its way up and over small hills and continued to get less and less travelled then started to head back west towards Evergreen Park.  Soon, I found myself losing the trail when I would come into a logging block.  I would have to consult the map on my phone to find my direction of travel.

Finally, the trail came to the top of a hill in a logging block and ended.  I spent some time running in a large circle trying to find the trail out, but was not successful.  By this time I was 19 kilometres into my run and it was after 3 AM.  The thought of backtracking my way out of this situation did not sound very appealing, so I looked at my map for other options.  I found what looked like an old road through the trees.  It looked like it may be "slightly swampy" but it would take me the direction I was wanting to go.  It ended in a logging block that was close to the trail I was on earlier in the night.

"Trying to find my way through an old
logging block."

After a few more circles, I found the road out of the block.  It was more than "slightly swampy" as I had predicted.....it was a swamp.  The short thick spruce trees had been pushed back and the "road" was moss about 6 inches deep under about a foot of cold standing water.  This was also prime habitat for swamp grass to flourish, which was about chest high and was heavily loaded with dew from the dense fog that seemed to hang just over my head.

Hesitation was my first thought, but then I realised that this "road" was my only option to get back to the main trail, so I committed and tried my best to run.  The footing under the moss seemed firm, unlike the other swamps that I crossed earlier in the night.  I was able to keep a somewhat steady pace, so I was able to make up some time and get out of there!  The spruce trees were short and stubby and so dense it would have been difficult to go through them.  This somewhat consoled me.  It would have been easy to see if a bear had been following the swampy road too.


After nearly a kilometre of slogging my way through the swamp, there was an opening on the right in the scrubby trees.  I could see the silhouette of a hill in the dimly lit horizon to the north.  Dry ground!  Once on top of the hill, I stopped to consult the map once again and get a new direction of travel.  I was very relieved to see the main trail I was on earlier in the night was less than half a kilometre to the north!!  Running through a logging block in the dark is not the easiest thing to do.  But after running through swamp, the slightly overgrown clear cut was a welcome change.

It didn't take me long to find the main trail.  After emerging from the short underbrush, I stopped on the trail for just a moment and pulled the swamp grass and twigs out of my shoes.  I grabbed a couple dates out my pack and quickly ate them as I started down the trail towards home.  Ten kilometres left to get back to the truck.

The trail wound its way through another large logging block.  The fog patches became more frequent, and lower to the ground.  The beam of light from my headlamp illuminated the first 10 feet of fog, then it faded into the white murky darkness.  I found myself ducking as I ran, trying to stay lower than the thick fog.  Soon my shoulders and neck started to tense up, so I slowed to a walk and tried to fix my posture.

It was then that I noticed a fresh set of bear tracks on the sandy trail.  The bear was headed down the trail the same way I was going.  His foot prints were over top of my tracks from earlier in the night when I was on my way out.  The bear was definitely here less than 2 hours ago, but he could be just ahead of me!  I let out a few yells to scare the bear away if he was near by.  I started to run again.  This time intentionally crouching, so my headlamp could shine under the low fog and I would hopefully see the bear if he was close.

Soon I came across another set of bear tracks.  This one just crossed the trail rather than following it.  I was still following the original set of tracks, so now I knew there were two bears nearby!!  Again, I scanned my surroundings, looking for reflective eyes in the darkness.  Momentarily, the fog seemed to lift slightly.  I should be able to see a bit farther now, but it seemed worse!  Then I realised my headlamp battery was slowly dying.

I had brought along a portable recharger.  It was in the bottom of my running pack.  In order to recharge my light, I would have to stop and take off my pack and my headlamp.  Not knowing how close the bears were, I figured now was a good as any place to stop.  I seemed to be on top of a small hill.

I yelled a couple more times, then very loudly started to narrate what I was doing.....

"I'm stopping to take off my pack and get out my battery!!"  
"Hey bear....!!"  
"I'm going to eat something too, while I'm stopped!!"

As soon as I took off my headlamp I realised how dark it really was!  I still had on my waist light, but when I crouched down on the side of the trail, it pointed directly between my feet and I couldn't even see in my pack.  I had a third spare headlamp in my pack.  I quickly found that one and flicked it on.  It greatly improved the situation.

"Hey bear, I stopped on top of this hill.  Don't eat me!!"  .....I really have no idea why I told the bear where I was.  Rookie mistake.  I must have been tired.

With my spare headlamp on, I was able to find my charger and cord in my pack.  I quickly plugged in the headlamp and tested it.  The light worked while it was being charged!!  This was a huge relief!!  With the light recharging, the beam was instantly much brighter, and illuminated farther into the darkness.  I quickly put my pack on, scanned the ground around me for anything that might have fallen out of my pack (and the bears), then started to run again.

"Hey bear, I'm on my way now.  Im running!!"

Now it was all about making up lost time.  I tried to focus on my running form and keeping a steady pace.  Another set of bear tracks crossed the sandy trail.  I didn't even hesitate.  I just kept on running.

A couple kilometres down the trail I came to the last swamp crossing.  I decided to do a Facebook live video while I navigated the swamp and ran across a large log.  The narration was going quite well until I was about half way across the log and lost my footing.  With arms flailing, I slipped from the muddy log into the swamp.  My phone went flying!  Even in my state of fatigue, it seemed slow motion....my phone splashed into the swamp in about 4 inches of water.  Knowing this was my map and my life-line home, I needed it to stay working.  I jumped into the muddy water and rescued my phone.  Luckily, my quick reflexes only left the phone in the water for a few seconds and it continued to record the whole time.  I shook the water from the phone.  Using my wet shirt, I dried it off as best I could.  It still seemed to be working ok, so I continued on towards the truck.

"First signs of sun rise!"

The last few kilometres were sandy trails.  With the exception of the odd set of bear tracks crossing the trail, it was pretty uneventful.  Soon the northern horizon began to get brighter.  Daylight crept into the woods and the birds began to sing.  Calculating the distance back to my truck, I could tell I would be just short of 30 kilometres if I took the most direct trails.  I added in a couple extra loops, trying to make my run a bit longer.

When I finally emerged from the bush trail onto the power line, it was nearly 5AM.  I was so close to being finished!  I could feel my body relax and I started to fight sleep for the first time.  It was then I noticed a bird sitting on the trail in front of me....I stopped in my tracks.  It was a strange looking bird, and it just stared back at me.   It seemed just as dazed as I was...

"The weird bird.  One of the
strangest things I saw on the run."

"Why wouldn't the bird fly away....was I hallucinating...?"


It was still dark enough that the light from my headlamp probably blinded it.  The bird just sat there and looked back at me.  I took one more step towards it, and it flew into the darkness, singing its morning song.  Somewhat confused about what had just happened, I continued down the trail towards Shari's Hill.

I was beat; mentally, physically and emotionally!  Less than a kilometre to my left, I could see my truck at the end of the power line.  But I had to take the long way home to get my 30 kilometres....up Shari's Hill!  The hill is only about 100 feet long but it was all I could do to get my ragged body to the top.

From the top of the hill, I could see the sun now starting to peak through the trees.  The woods were loud with chatter from the birds and even the trees seemed to be waking up.  The trail was mostly down hill now.  The winding single track through the sparse trees was one of my favourite sections of trail.  From somewhere, I found a bit more energy to run the final distance back to the truck.

I made it!!  I had just run 30 kilometres alone in the woods and didn't die!!  When I left the truck over 5 hours earlier, the sun was just setting and now it was slowly coming up.  Before heading home, I enjoyed a cold Fresca and took a few moments to watch the last shadows of the night fade way.  Listening to the chatter of the birds I realized that this was the best finish line I had ever experienced.

"Tired, wet feet...."

"Fresca at sun rise"

A Look Back at 2018

"Climbing Mnt Hamel in early May."

Some parts of 2018 will never be forgotten.  Other parts of 2018 I try to forget daily; but the memory never fades.  It was a year of extreme highs, and incredible lows.  Life changing moments, and long hours running trails that were shared with new friends .

The year started with lofty goals.  Two marathons in May, then my most ambitious goal yet - soloing the 125 kilometre Canadian Death Race in August.  For most of the year, I think fear of the unknown motivated me and kept me training. The longest I had run prior to this year was the 60 kilometre Golden Ultra in 2017.  I really didn't know what to expect in a 125 kilometre run, but I knew my nine month journey to the finish line would be anything but mundane.  Little did I know, it would be far beyond ordinary... closer to life changing.

To get my training kicked into gear, I registered for the Chilly Willy.  I signed up for the half marathon distance, just to challenge myself.  The race, in early February, runs through the trails in Muskoseepi Park, in the heart of Grande Prairie.  In what would prove to be the theme of 2018; the biggest challenge of the race, came before the race even started.

"Muskoseepi Park at night.  It really is magical!!"

I volunteered to help mark the course early in the morning before the race started.  It was a typical February morning in northern Alberta.... -38 Celsius.  The spray paint I was using to mark the course would freeze within minutes, so I had to keep several cans inside my insulated coveralls to warm them up and prevent them from freezing.  My hands didn't fare so well.  By the time the course was marked, I had been outside over 3 hours and I had several fingers that were frozen.  I went back to the start line to change into my running clothes; then warmed up and came to my senses.

I didn't even pick up my race package.  I quite before I started.  The Chilly Willy and Mother Nature won, but the year was still early and I was determined to fight back, and take the win next time!!

"Training in the winter in northern Alberta
 is all about snow and darkness.  
I learned to make friends with both of them...."

The training continued with focus.  With the exception of my weekend runs, nearly every run was completed in darkness.  If there was too much fresh snow in the bush, I ran the local trails in town.  On the weekends, I tried to head out to the bush and get some quality runs completed on "real trails".   I soon discovered the small creek that runs through the park was frozen enough I could run on the ice!!  For most of the winter, there was less than 6" of snow covering the ice.  It made for an excellent "trail" to follow, and gave me access to areas that are not accessible to explore in the summer months.

"Running Bear Creek."

Winter training is all about quality.  Running in the powdery snow is incredibly fatiguing on your calves.  Pace almost seems irrelevant and the runs seem to be more about how much fun can be had.  When the snow finally started to melt, the higher elevations became more accessible.  I started doing training runs in the mountains with our run group.  My two marathons in May were coming closer and closer, and I was feeling behind in my training.  The warm spring weather and more daylight helped with the training, but I was still feeling a bit "off".

"Winter Wonderland"

The first race of the year was part one of the Northern Alberta Trail Series.  The Evergreen Trail Trek marathon took place on the sandy trails of Evergreen Park.  Because of the heavy snow pack, the usual course was modified to 4 loops, on a 10 kilometre trail.  To say it was a tough marathon for me would be an understatement!!  I felt very undertrained, but I finished!!  It was my first top ten finish in a race, thanks to the fact that only 9 people completed the marathon!!  (You can read all the details of the race here.)

"Climbing Shari's Hill....."

Four weeks after the Evergreen Trail Trek was the second race of the series - Mountain Madness marathon in Grande Cache.

  

This race gave me my first taste of the Canadian Death Race course.  The race course was two loops in the wooded trails surrounding the town and covers part of Leg 5 of the Death Race.  I was much more prepared for this marathon.  My 6 hr 22 minute finish was still was no record run for me, but I was starting to get some miles under my shoes and I was feeling better about my training plan.

The training was starting to go a bit better.  Being able to do more mountain runs adds a lot of stamina and makes it easier to add mileage on the flatter runs.  

In early June, I began to plan a night run.  I knew I would be running through the night during the Canadian Death Race so I didn't want the race to be my first experience with running all night.  The training run had two main reasons - stay up all day then run all night fatigued; and run in the dark for an extended period of time to work out headlamp charging etc while running.

I had a couple buddies lined up to go with me, but at the last minute, they backed out on me.  So I left the house and headed into the bush alone at 11:30 PM.  As daylight faded, fog began to settle into the rolling hills of Evergreen Park.

I headed steadily east from Evergreen Park for about 15 kilometres on well traveled ATV trails.  Then headed south a few kilometres and the trail started to become less traveled and soon disappeared completely.  I soon found an old logging road that headed west, back towards Grande Prairie.  But it wasnt long before the logging road turned to a swampy trail with knee deep muskeg and chest high grass that was wet from the previous rain and foggy air.

"30 Kilometer solo run at night....just over 5 hours
alone in the dark."

It was shortly after 2 AM and I had no other choice  but to keep going.  This was the whole point of this training run, to push myself through the unexpected challenges.  The temperature slowly dropped throughout the night.  Completely soaked, stopping to rest was not an option so I kept pushing on into the night.

I frequently check my GPS map and found my way through some old logging blocks and back onto the trail that I had just been on about two hours earlier.

Heavy rains earlier in the day had washed all the tracks off the sandy trail.  As I started to head back west, only my eastbound foot prints could be seen on the trail.  Within a few hundred yards, of being back on the trail, I noticed fresh bear tracks.  They were on top of my old tracks, but heading the same direction I was now travelling!!  I guess I wasn't really alone on this run after all!!  Throughout the night, 4 other sets of bear tracks crossed my trail.  Needless to say, staying awake was not a problem for me.

"Every long run should be finished with a Fresca,
especially when the run finishes at 5AM!!"

Throughout the night, the horizon to the north grew darker and darker, but never went completely black.  The silhouette of the tall straggly spruce trees against the glowing skyline was like a natural timepiece.  As the glow to the north started to get brighter, I knew the sun would be coming up shortly.  This also meant that I could stop running because when the sun came up, I would have reached my goal of running all night - from sunset to sunrise!!

The sky was clear blue, but the sun was still below the horizon as I ran the last few kilometres to the truck.  The birds were awake and their constant chattering cheered me towards my finish line.  I had run 30 kilometres of unmarked, unplanned trails through sandy trails, logging blocks, brush, and swamp in just under 5 hours!!

Back at the truck, I listened to the birds sing while I took a few moments to watch the sun slowly rise above the trees.  It was so relaxing and peaceful. I struggled to stay awake on the 15 minute drive home.  After a quick shower, and I slipped into bed beside my wife who was still sleeping.  I could sense her relief that I was back home.

One life lesson that running has taught me, is to always be prepared for the unexpected. We have life encounters, that at the the time, we think we are not prepared for so we begin to panic inside.  Only to realize that we are stronger than we think, and we survive.

Two weeks after my solo night run, I found myself in a situation; fighting, and digging for more courage than I ever though possible.  On a run up Mnt Hamel in Grande Cache with a group of other runners, another lady and myself found ourselves face-to-face with three grizzlies.  I use the term "face-to-face" lightly....the bears were in our face, at our back, and growling at our feet!!  Miraculously, we both survived, physically unharmed other than the side effects of bear spray.  (You can read the full story with all the details here.)

The bear encounter changed me....it is still changing me.  I realized that life truly is uncertain; yet I was living like it would go on for ever.  A week after the bear encounter, I took a week of holidays and ran leg 4 of Sinister 7 in Blairmore, Alberta.  The leg of the race was only 22 kilometres long, but it was a fun training run on new trails and new mountains.  The weekend was spent with family and running friends.  On the way back home, we spent nearly a week, camping along the way.

The Death Race was now by big focus.  It was only three weeks away.  My summer of training hadn't really gone as planned but I somehow still felt ready for the race.  At least mentally anyway.  I had the opportunity to run the whole course during training so I knew what to expect.  My biggest fear was the uncertainty of how I would perform after running for nearly 24 hours.

The physical preparation for a 24 hour race is almost as detailed as the mental training.  I had lists of lists, just to make sure that nothing was forgotten at a transition.

On race day, I couldn't have felt more prepared.  There really was nothing left to do but to run....  Cheri and my friend Dan crewed for me, along with many other friends from our run group.  The day (and night) went exactly as planned and I finished in 23 hours and 21 minutes.  Just 10 minutes longer than I had anticipated.

"Nearing the summit of Grande Mnt, the second summit in the race.  In the background is Mnt Hamel, the highest point in the race.   That summit is about 30 kilometres and 8 hours down the trail from where this picture is taken."

"Crossing the finish line.  You can read the blog about
the race here."

Crossing the finish line of that race meant much more to me than just finishing a race.  I came into that race feeling under trained physically but very strong mentally.  Never once did I question whether or not I would be able to finish.

I was hoping for some powerful "jittery" feeling when I crossed the finish line....  I was hoping that I would feel like an "ultra runner" even though I wasn't too sure what that would feel like....but I was still just the same guy.  Except now I had pushed my limits a little farther.  I knew I was capable of running 125 kilometres, and I knew I could run farther.

Aside from the day or two after Death Race, I recovered exceptionally fast.  Within a week, I felt like I was ready to run again.  I didn't have the stamina to go much over 10 km, but I felt pretty good.

Since finishing the Death Race in August, I have been taking it pretty easy and letting my body recover and heal up.  I try to run 20 to 30 kilometres a week.   I do my best to make sure the runs are good quality runs.  Without any real goals though, they tend to adventure runs.  I recently found an alternate route to the summit of Hamel that is much steeper than the Death Race course, but only about 4 kilometres long.  My goal for this winter is to reach that summit at least once a month.

As December winds down, I start to get antsy to start my training program for 2019.  I learned a lot in 2018, but overall, it was a pretty tough year for me.  I am anticipating a great year in 2019.

"The optimist stays up until midnight to welcome the 2019.

The pessimist stays up to make sure the 2018 leaves....."

I must admit that I am leaning more towards the pessimistic view this year years eve.

In 2019, I am going to be pushing my limits a bit more.  I recently signed up for my first 100 mile race, Sinister 7.  This is the first race in the Sinister Triple race series.  The race takes place in the Crowsnest Pass area southwest of Calgary on the first weekend of July.  The 160 km race reaches 7 mountain summits and has a 30 hour cutoff.  My goal is simply to finish under the cutoff.

Four weeks later on the first weekend of August, I will again be running the Death Race.  I hope to run it a bit faster this year and finish the 125 km race in less than 21 hours.

Three weeks after the Death Race, on August 23, I will finish the Sinister Triple race series by running the 108 km Black Spur Ultra in Kimberly, BC.

While training for these races, I will probably run some other races as training runs.  In May, Ill  again be running the two marathons in the Northern Alberta Trail Series.  One in Grande Prairie and one in Grande Cache.  I was very under trained when I ran these marathons this year, so I am hoping to improve both finishing times.

Over all, my goal is to stick to my training schedule, stay healthy and uninjured, and run as much as I can with other people.  Each person that I run with inspires me in some special way.  For some it is just to finish a 5 km run.  For other, it is to run their first marathon.  No matter how far away the goal is or how long of a race you are training for, each goal is just as important as the next and should be celebrated the same.  If I focus on others more than myself, it will help me see past my own

struggles, aches and pains.  In the process, we will help each other reach our goals.