Crossing The finish Line

Crossing The finish Line
Crossing the finish line of the Canadian Death Race shortly after 7 AM. 125 kilometres in 23 hours 21 minutes.

Wednesday, 26 September 2018

Canadian Death Race 2018

"Ready to start the race!!!"
There are no words to describe the feeling in your body, the thoughts in your mind, when you have run over 100 kilometres; the end of the race is almost within reach, but your body begins to break down and failure seems imminent.  I felt pain in places I have never felt pain before...the pain stabbed at me with every step.  It was 4 AM,  I had been running for nearly 20 hours and the my body was starting to break.

The darkness around me was thicker than I have ever before experienced.  It seemed as though the Death Race had been named after this exact moment....nothing could possible live through this!  The moon was no where in sight. The mountains that towered above the dense aspen canopy did not even cast a silhouette on the black sky.  Even the stars seemed to be sleeping tonight.

My eyes struggled to focus on the area illuminated from my headlamp.  I could see the trail continued on and there was another root covered hill to climb.  I also knew there was a river crossing somewhere in this sea of darkness; and another 15 kilometres beyond the river was the finish line....if I could just keep going!               

Just 10 months earlier, I had completed my first ultra marathon; the 85 kilometre three day Golden Ultra Marathon.  Many people asked if the Death Race would be my next big race.  Honestly, it wasn't even on my bucket list.  Yes, it was right in my back yard, just a two hour drive from my house; but it seemed like an impossible goal.  The 125 kilometre course summited three mountains with a total elevation gain of 17,000 feet.  It was a perfect race for elite runners - but just a dream for an average runner like me.  The few people I knew who had soloed it, were incredible athletes and were far more experienced runners than I was.  To attempt to run it solo seemed like I would be asking for failure; something I was sure I did not want to experience.

But it wasn't long before I began to entertain the thought of signing up for the race.  I told a few of my running friends that I was thinking about it.  They all reminded me that it was a tough race, but assured me that I could do it.

                          "If your goals don't scare you; you didn't set them high enough."

The day registration opened, I was driving from Grande Prairie to Fort St John.  I called my coach and told her when registration officially opened at noon, I would be pulled over so I could register right away.  I remember being parked on a gravel side road, waiting for the last few minutes to pass before I could hit the "Register" button and seal my fate to this race.  My heart was racing when I read the confirmation email.

Little did I know the depth of the experiences that I would encounter in the following months.  The training plan that my coach had written up seemed simple, yet life seemed to have other plans to complicate the process and make my goal of finishing this race a little bit harder.

I knew I would be running all night, so in early June I planned to do a night training run with some other runners.  At the last minute, I found myself doing the 30 training run solo, in country that I was not familiar with.  Then I realized I was not alone, there were fresh bear tracks on the trail!  Five hours later when the 30 kilometre run was finished, I was exhausted; but I felt stronger.  That was just a taste of my summer training.

                                 "Courage doesn't mean you don't get afraid.  
                                              Courage means you don't let fear stop you"

A few weeks later, on a training run in the mountains, I found myself and another runner face to face with a grizzly sow and her two cubs.  After spraying the bears with bear spray and hitting one with my running pole, the bears left and we headed back down the mountain.  The training run seemed to be an utter failure, but I later learned it was a success!  The encounter gave me a new value on life and what was important to me.  It also confirmed to me that I was strong enough to accomplish my goals!  When we encounter those times when every step is a journey, we just have to dig a little deeper and keep going.

"My dear friend Lisa and I.... just several hours after the bear encounter.
I was told that when you save someones life, you become family.
We still argue over who saved who's life that day,
but without each other, that day could have been very different for both of us."
In the last few weeks leading up to the race, I was tapering, so less time was spent running.  This gave me more time to focus on preparation for the race.  This would be my first multi-leg race with a crew meeting me at each transition area.  With a little coaxing, I convinced my wife and a friend of mine who was a non runner to crew for me.  The Monday before the race, we got together to go over the lists I had made for each transition and review the plan I had made.

"Planning the transitions with 'The Crew' - Dan and Cheri"
Each transition consisted of refilling my hydration pack and restocking my food.  On most legs, I changed shoes and as the temperature dropped later in the day, I added warmer clothes to my pack.  There was also the battery packs to monitor and recharge.  My watch and phone would not last for the estimated 23 hour race so the 3 battery packs had to be managed correctly.  These batteries were also used to recharge my headlamp as I ran through the night.

I printed up a list for every transition so Cheri and Dan had a checklist of the food and gear I wanted for each leg of the race. Then I marked a 2 gallon ziplock back for each transition.  In the bag there was an index card with everything that was needed for that transition.  Some of the food (like potatoes, bacon and Boost shakes) needed to be kept cool in the holiday trailer until right before that leg of the race.  For the nighttime legs, I had chicken broth on the list.  A special boost to warm me up.  The forecast called for rain in the evening, which would be while I was on leg 4 on Mnt Hamel.  Having heard stories from past years, I knew the rain could easily turn into snow at that elevation.

After going over all the gear and rehearsing each transition area, I felt somewhat prepared.  This was new to all of us, so we were all a little nervous about how this would all go.  In the final days before the race, I added more items to the index card lists and added extra items to the bags...just to be sure!

Two days before the race, I did one last final check of all my food and equipment.  Cheri and I laid everything out on the floor and double checked the list and index cards for each of the five legs of the race.  Then everything was loaded into the holiday trailer.  This was it, the moment (one of them) that I had been preparing for, for so long....we were off to Grande Cache to solo the Death Race!

"All my gear laid out in order that it would be used.  Grizzly
is convinced Ive lost my mind for sure...."
The two hour drive down highway 40 seemed never ending.  As we got closer to Grande Cache, I could see the mountains that I would be summiting the following day.  When we drove past the leg 3/4 transition about 20 minutes out of Grande Cache, then the leg 4/5 transition about 5 minutes out of town, I could see flagging in the parking areas and the running lanes that were cordoned off.  The transition areas seemed eerily vacant and empty; a stark contrast to the bustle of activity and energy that would fill the area in just 24 hours.

After setting up the holiday trailer at the local RV park, we headed into town to attend the race meeting at the rec centre.  Yes, the meeting confirmed all my fears - this really was going to happen, and there was no turning back now.

Driving back to the camper, I could see Grande Mountain looming over the small town.  The mountain seemed so majestic and calm; yet I had been to the top of the mountain before and I knew I would be feeling anything but majestic and calm when I reached the summit tomorrow.  If all went as planned, I would be at the summit, looking down on the town of Grande Cache shortly after noon the next day.

I had the whole race planned out, how I wanted it two go.  My prediction of how I thought it would end up somehow made the race seem more achievable.

The race started at 8AM so I wanted to be at the start line at 7:30 at the latest.  Leg 1 was a very simple leg, so my plan was to not give it too much thought and just "get it done".  I gave myself 2 hrs and 15 minutes to complete the 19 kilometre leg.  Since I was still going to be relatively fresh, I only allocated 5 minutes for the first transition.
"Leg 1 and 2.  Roughly 46 kilometres and 2 mountain peaks."

Leg 2 is a beast!  With two mountain peaks and about 5 kilometres of swamp in between (Accurately known as "Slugfest") the 27 kilometre leg ends with a very steep decent back into the Grande Cache to the transition area at the start/finish line.  I was familiar with the decent and knew that even if I didn't lose my footing and wipe out, just the constant pounding of the decent could cause even the toughest runners to drop out at the end of that leg.  My goal was to have the leg finished by 3:30 PM with 15 minutes allowed for the transition.  Leg 3 should be drier so I planned on changing shoes before starting the next leg.

In my opinion, leg 3 was the easiest 19 kilometres of the race.  Most of it was a gradual decent on quad trail and road.  With the exception of the final 3 kilometres, which was the most technical section of the race, the leg was mostly runnable.  (If I was able to still run by this point in the race).  My target time to arrive at the 3/4 transition was 7:15 PM with 15 minutes planned in the transition.  This left me with only 15 minutes to spare before I would miss the 7:45 cutoff to start Leg 4.  Missing the cut-off would mean an instant DNF (Did Not Finish) and I would be pulled from the race...
"Most of Leg 3, plus Leg 4 up over Mnt Hamel to
Beaver Dam Rd."

Leg 4 includes the highest summit on the race at 7,000 feet.  Right from the transition area, it is a constant climb to the peak of Mnt Hamel.  About 3/4 of the way up, there is one last check point in the leg.  All runners that are not at Hamel Escape by 10:30 PM get a free ATV ride back down the mountain and a complementary DNF when they reach the bottom!  Several kilometres past Hamel Escape is the summit, then a steady decent down the other side.  Ambler Loop is a 5 km loop that starts and ends at an aid station on Beaver Dam Road.  After completing Ambler loop, its 7 km of road, down hill to the highway, then 3 kilometres to the last transition area and the start of leg 5.  I had allowed 7.5 hours to complete the 38 kilometres of leg 4 with an estimated arrival time into the transition at 3AM.

"Beaver Dam Rd down to the highway,
then Leg 5 into Grande Cache."
Leg 5 is another relatively easy leg.  Except, if I made it to this point in the race, I would have run just over 100 kilometres.  I didn't really know what to expect on this leg, if I even made it this far. The 22 kilometre leg starts with a short STEEP climb, then 10 kilometres of single track, technical trail cut into the side of a hill; then a decent to the river crossing (which luckily is a boat ride, not a swim).  At the pre race meeting, every runner is given a silver coin that is needed to pay Charon before boarding the boat.  (In Greek mythology, Charon is the ferryman of Hades who carries the souls of the newly deceased across the river Styx that divides the world of the living from the world of the dead.)  After the river crossing, the last 12 kilometres is quad trail and road to the finish line.

If all went as planned, I would be running this portion of the race just after sunrise and cross the finish line at 7:10AM, with 50 minutes to spare before the 8AM race cut-off and my final opportunity for a DNF.

That was the plan for the day and night.  I had rehearsed it in my mind so many times, it was almost  simple and predictable.  It was part of my mental training and helped this goal seem somewhat achievable.  I knew exactly what I had to do in the morning; and now, all I had to do was to fall asleep, so I could wake up.
"True story!!!"
Somehow, I managed to doze off for several hours and I actually woke up somewhat refreshed.  My preplanning and preparation the night before paid off.  Cheri and Dan woke up, and double checked the transition bags and my race gear one last time while I tried to choke back a bowl of oatmeal and a bagel.  Everything seemed ready to go....time to head to the start line and get this race started!!
"The starting area.  The race was about to begin...!!"

Like every race, the start line was a buzz of activity and energy.  The sun was shining and there was just a slight breeze.  The weather appeared to be cooperating, at least for the start of the race anyway.
I was surprised how many familiar faces I saw a the start line.  There were many runners from Grande Prairie that I knew, but also a few runners from Calgary and Fort St John.

Then there were the complete strangers that came up to me and said, "Hey!!!  Aren't you one of the runners that was attacked by a grizzly bear this summer while training for this race??"  I really didn't need to be reminded of that right now.  The memories of that run and life changing encounter on Hamel from four weeks earlier were still too fresh in my mind.  I was trying to focus on the positive and direct all my thoughts to this race.

Luckily, there were many distractions at the start line and before long I could hear the race director starting the final count down.  With one last kiss and a hug from my wife, the gun sounded and we were off.  The Death Race had started.  This really was the moment I had been anticipating for all these months.
"We are OFF!!  Helenvran part of  Leg 1 with me."
The first part of the course ran from downtown towards the highway on a 4 lane street for less than a kilometre.  Then a quick turnaround and we back-tracked onto the other lanes towards the start line and circled around the park where the race started.  As we passed the start line area, I got one last high-five from my wife, then it was time to focus.  I tried to not get caught up in the excitement and find my own pace.  Event though we were going up hill, it was hard to slow down and find my steady race pace.
"Running through town on pavement."
With just a few kilometres of pavement in town and on the shoulder of the highway, the course went along the ditch for a short distance, then headed up a short steep hill into the bush on a quad trail.  This was really it, the race was on....I was "Death Racing"!!

Just as anticipated, the last few weeks of wet rainy weather had left many large mud holes in the quad trail.  Since I was definitely not leading the race, there was a defined track around most of these knee-deep swampy sections.  My original strategy for the race was to not hesitate at these frequent mud holes.  Rather than slowly navigate around them, I planned to just run straight through them to save time.  But the first few were pretty easy to bypass so I did my best to keep my feet dry.

About 10 kilometres in, the congestion of runners on the trail thinned out a bit; but every time there was a mud hole, there would be 6 or 8 people waiting their turn to step across it on the rocks or on a slippery log.  I seized this opportunity to make my own trail on the opposite side and bypass the mud hole and all the runners that were attempting to navigate through it.  I gained a lot of ground using this technique at the mud holes, and the constant momentum kept me moving faster.

Soon I started the gradual down hill portion of the leg.  For the most part, the trail was firm with only a few rocky sections.  I again took advantage of having fresh legs and good trail and increased my pace on the downhill sections.  I pushed myself a little faster until I could feel myself going into a "death-wobble", then slowed down just a bit so I wouldn't have a wreck this early in the race!

I did notice one dude in the bushes, leaving his breakfast at the base of a large spruce tree.  I slowed down long enough to make sure he wasnt going to die there, then continued down the trail.  The last few kilometres of the leg were along a lake, then a gravel road.  By now, the race jitters were gone and I had to focus on maintaining my pace as we climbed a long steady grade on the road.  Then were were back into the woods for the final kilometre or two into the first transition area.

I had run this leg earlier in the summer and I remembered a large swampy section just before the transient area, but at the time, I wasnt too sure if I was on actual race course.  Sure enough, after crossing a small bridge, the trail narrowed down to a single track through knee deep moss that seemed to be floating on water.  With 500 or so runners ahead of me, it looked like a heard of cows had used the trail.  The many foot prints had turned the moss into a brown smelly soup.  I could clearly see where everyone ran, but the fresh moss seemed like a much better option.  But my feet sank deeply and I got wet feet with every step.  So much for staying dry....

The trail paralleled the edge of a rail yard.  On the far side, we finally popped out of the bush onto dry ground.  I had been warned of this transition area, that it would be very crowded and difficult to find my support crew.  The crews also faced similar challenges, limited parking areas and only 2 hours after the start of the race, they didn't have any extra time to drive the 15 minutes down the highway and get set up and ready for me.
"Coach Krista waiting for her runners
to come in to the first transition."
There were spectators for the first hundred feet or so, then the aid station tents where all the food was, then more people stretched down the side of the railway.  I didn't see Cheri and Dan and I wasn't about to pass the food in the aid tents, so I grabbed a few pieces of fruit as I passed through the tents.  (I honestly still don't know why.  I knew it would be 6 or 8 hours to the next aid station, so maybe I wanted to stock up, just in case Cheri and Dan weren't there for some reason.)  Midway through my first hand full of food, coach Krista came running into the tent, and drug me away from the buffet of fresh cold fruit and directed me down the laneway a bit farther to where my pit crew was waiting.

This was the first transition area experience for my crew and I, so it was a bit of mayhem to say the least.  I knew I wouldn't need much food replenished this early in the race so I had only allocated 5 minutes for this transition.  Cheri was going to waste no time and stick to the schedule so she directed me to the empty chair and Dan took my pack off and started to refill the water bladder.  Krista was standing in front of me recording a Facebook live video to update the rest of the run group back home in Grande Prairie.  I had completed the leg roughly 10 minutes faster than anticipated, so my pit crew let me have an extra 3 minutes, as long as I was eating.
"Transition #1.  Drinking....and eating...."

First mistake....  In between chugging a Boost shake, I tried to drink a bit of water.  I had been so busy trying to navigate through the mud, I forgot to drink at my regular 10 minute intervals.  Dan noticed that my bladder was still nearly full and alerted the rest of the crew about this serious detail.  Soon, I was starting to feel full, but Cheri insisted that I eat too, so I ate some boiled potatoes as best I could.  Still getting more full...

Finally, someone call "TIME!!!"  I wasnt sure if I had won the food eating contest or if it was time to get running again.  But Cheri drug me to my feet and Dan helped me put on my pack.  I could feel my "food-baby" already shifting in my belly....  This wasnt going to be good, I could tell!!
"Cheri and Dan looking after me at the first transition."
"Christine and Daryl helping out at the
first transition."
Leaving the transition area, I ran the first 100 meters or so until the trail dropped off the side of the train tracks and I was out of site from my crew.  I slowed to a walk, and contemplated what I had just done.  This was not good!!  I was well hydrated and nourished, but I felt like a somewhat athletic chubby guy trying to run to the next buffet before it closed.

After following the train tracks under the highway, Leg 2 followed a logging road for several kilometres before turning onto a quad trail towards the summit of Flood Mnt.  I knew it was a long grind and that I wouldn't be able to run, even if I wasnt packing the extra weight of my "food baby". So I focused on a steady power hike up the road.  Some people ran past me; but again, I passed another gentleman donating his lunch to the squirrels.  I slowed my pace a bit more, but kept going steady as I could.  I didn't want to lose any of the food Cheri had crammed down my throat while I was at the transition.

From the highway, it was nearly 9 kilometres of mostly uphill climbing to the summit of Flood Mnt.  Somewhere along the way, my steady pace slowly wore off my "food baby" and I started to feel like eating again.  I knew nutrition was key on a race this long, especially this early in the race.  Once hunger sets in, it is hard to regain that nourishment with the limited food I was packing and still be able to continue running for another 20 hours.  I had planned that at the top of Flood Mnt, I would reward myself with some bacon and white double stuffed oreos.

While running on the trail, I have easy access to limited pockets where I keep my nutrition.  Dates, fruit gummies and boiled potatoes are always handy and I try to eat them at regular intervals.  An experienced ultra runner that I trained with told me to have special food to reward milestones or tough sections of the trail, like mountain summits or when you need a mental boost.

Since this was the first of three summits, I figured this warranted a reward.  So I sat down for about 5 minutes and enjoyed a buffet of bacon, oreos, and Mars bites.  Feeling re-energized, I took a few pictures and did a Facebook live video then headed back down the mountain.  From the summit, there are 2 kilometres of runnable trail along an old road, before the trail veers to the west.

This would be the last opportunity to run before starting down Bum Slide which leads into Slugfest.  Yes, that portion of the trail really is that fun!!  There are numerous steep down hill sections where correct foot placement is very important.  Some of the decents were muddy, while others were loose gravel or root covered.  Again, runners got bottled up at these areas.  Cautiously, I tried to pass as many people as I could while I had the opportunity.

Finally, I was at the bottom of the valley in Slugfest.  Words really can't describe this portion of the trail.  For nearly 5 kilometres, if it wasnt STEEP down hill, it was swamp!  Like the swampy sections of Leg 1, these areas of the trail were also turned into "swamp soup" by the runners that were ahead of me.  The trail followed a cut line with thick brush on either side, so going off the trail to bypass the muddy areas was not possible.  Going straight through was the only option.  After crossing several small creeks that leaked out of the swamps, the trail started slightly up hill towards Grande Mnt.

The grade wasnt that challenging, but there was mud that looked like chocolate pudding running down the trail.  There was no avoiding it, and there was no fast way to get through it.  I used my running poles to support my weight while trying to go uphill in the slime.  But the deep moss and swamp was unreliable and with out warning, my pole would sink a foot or two and the corresponding leg would also sink in the muck.

I actually caught up to some other runners while climbing out of Slugfest.  Most of them I had no intention of passing.  I would watch where they stepped, if they didn't sink or lose their footing, I stepped in the same place.  If they sank deeply, I would chose anther option for foot placement.  This technical way to attack each step of the trail seemed to keep the time passing faster and kept my mind off how slow I really was going.

I knew there was a fresh clean creek just before we started the final climb up Grande Mnt.  I looked forward to refilling my water pack in the creek, which I had done the other time I had been on this portion of the trail, but the creek seemed to never come!!  I was sure it was just over the next hill, but then it was just another swamp to cross.

Finally, we came to the creek.  It did not disappoint!!  It was ice cold and fast flowing.  I refilled my hydration pack then waded through it to wash some of the mud off my feet and legs.  I have this thing for mountain creeks.  Im not sure if it is from the memories of the times spent in the mountains when I was a kid, but I just can't cross a clear mountain creek without drinking from it.

"Nearing the summit of Grande Mountain"
From the creek crossing, the grade increases, then the trail joins onto an old road which leads the final 4 kilometres to the summit of Grande Mnt.  Just after getting onto the road, I was passed by a friend of mine from Fort St John.  We had never run together, but I could tell her pace was a bit faster than mine so I did my best to keep up to her.  As we neared the summit,  the sky started to cloud over and the wind picked up a bit.  A few rain drops started to fall.  I didn't want to get wet, then cold from the wind so I stopped to put on my wind breaker, just before the summit.

At the top, the view was spectacular!! To the west, directly at the base of the mountain was the small town of Grande Cache.  While it appeared quite close it was still 7 kilometres down the mountain to the end of this leg of the race.  To the east was Flood Mnt and swampy Slugfest which we had just come through.  To the north west, was Mnt Hamel, the highest summit on the race.  If my race kept going as planned, I would be on top of that summit in time to watch the sun set.
"Almost at the top of Grande with Mount Hamel in the background."
It was early afternoon, and my goal was to be finished this leg by 3:30, so there was not time to enjoy the view too much.  After a couple pictures and a quick snack, I started descending the mountain to the next transition area which was back at the start line.  Most of the trail follows the power line and is known for quad killing steep grades.

I had been on the trail for only 6 hours, but the constant pounding of the descent in my knees and quads soon started to wear on me.  It was early in the race.  I didn't want to fall and get injured or worse yet, just pull a muscle in my legs and have pain for the rest of the run.  So I decided to slow down and just go easy on this portion.  Several people passed me at a pace I knew I could maintain, which was slightly demoralizing; but I knew I needed to finish this leg strong so I could continue the race.

The last decent off the mountain spits you onto a road near a graveyard.  How fitting.  The freshly mowed grass looked so inviting!  A nap seemed like the perfect thing to do this time of the day.  But it was just another 2 kilometres to the next transition area so I kept going.  It was all up hill, but I tried to run it as best I could, with the anticipation of a 15 minute break at the transition.  When I got to the edge of town, I got cell service so I text Cheri to let her know I was just a few minutes out.

"Coming into the transition at the
end of leg 2."
I was about 10 minutes ahead of schedule when I came into the grassy transition area.  Since it was at the start finish line (and the finish line for the marathon) there were lots of people waiting.  It took me a bit to find my pit crew, but once in sight, I was directed to my chair.

This transition was a bit more involved so I scheduled 15 minutes to get everything done.  I had been on the trail for nearly 8 hours.  I was covered in mud and out of food.  As soon as I sat down, I got cold so Cheri wrapped me in a blanket while I ate and she changed my muddy shoes for a dry pair.  Krista was on my phone doing a Facebook live video update of all the commotion that happens at the transition area.  After putting on a dry shirt and shoes, Dan gave my glutes a quick roll with the foam roller, and I was on my way again.

"Its hard to find a good crew, but Dan was more than
willing to use the roller to work out knots..."
This time, it was only about a kilometre of pavement in town before the trail headed north, down the valley.  Leg 4 is 19 kilometres but one of the least technical legs of the race.  After a quick decent out of town, the trail climbs up a small hill past the garbage dump then is mostly down hill until it hits the river.  The trail was most all very runnable quad trail which made it easier to visit with other runners.  At the end of this leg is the tightest cutoff of the race, just before the climb up Mnt Hamel.  All runners must leave the transition area by 7:45 or they will be disqualified.

My plan was to run as much of this leg as possible.  If I needed to make up time, this was my last chance to do it.  I was still slightly ahead of schedule, but I didn't want to take any chances and get disqualified at the next transition.  About 10 kilometres into the leg, a runner caught up to me, and we started talking.  I found out that Dan was from Regina, Saskatchewan and was also running the Death Race for the first time.  We ran together for a while, I and told him what to expect in the remainder of the race.  With night coming soon, we agreed to try to stick together for the next leg at least.  He was a bit faster than me, so I knew he would help me with my pace.

The leg seemed to drag on forever.  There were about 3 kilometres of running on a gravel road, then we crossed the highway and went up on the hillside.  I had run this portion of the race course one other time and knew the last 3 kilometres of the leg that were on the hillside were very tricky.  The trail was cut into the side of the hill.  One slip, and I would go rolling down the hill and off a 50' cliff onto the highway below.  This was not the way I wanted my race to end, so it was time to focus on foot placement, but still trying to keep a steady pace so I could make it to the transition area before cut-off.

"The crew, plus Zanne and Stuck waiting for me to finish Leg 3."
When we neared the transition area, I told Dan I had given myself 15 minutes for this transition.  We agreed, we would try to continue together.

"Runner Dan and I running into transition
at the end of Leg 3"
When we came into laneway into the transition area I was about 15 minutes ahead of schedule.  Cheri ran along side me to the timing mat, then led me to our area.  I had made the cut-off with time to spare, but there was no time to rest.  The next leg was 38 kilometres up over the highest point of the race and we were currently at the lowest point.  Almost all of the leg would be run in the darkness, so headlamps and warm clothes had to be added to my pack as well.

I don't remember much of this transition.  After the race, Cheri told me that she and Krista were concerned because I seemed low on sugar and starting to go a bit "loopy".  When asked a question, I responded slowly with mumbling and a blank stare on my face.  At the time, I was not aware that anything was wrong, I seemed fine.  I have heard many stories of this happening to runners during this part of the race, and now I can see how it happens.  I thought I was perfectly fine and didn't see any reason for concern.  I do remember telling Cheri that I hadn't been eating as much on Leg 3 because it was an easy run.  I was unaware the danger I was in.  If I didn't get my nutrition sorted out soon, I would never finish the leg, not to mention finishing the race.
"Zanne, wiping the mud off my head at
the end of leg 3.  Success is not possible
without a great team!!"

The planned activities in the transition were much like the last one.  Cheri helped me change my shirt then gave me warm soup broth, which I remember was amazing!  I was starting to get tired of boiled potatoes and dates, so this was a welcome change of the menu.  Cheri and Krista forced more food into me then gave me a few extra minutes to eat some more, before sending me back onto the trail.  Just as planned, Dan was waiting for me when I left the transition area and we started Leg 4, up Mnt Hamel.  It was just after 7PM and we were nearly 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

For me, Leg 4 was a turning point in the race.  Up until this time, I had been focused on just making this cut-off and starting up Mnt Hamel by 7:45.  I was nearly 45 ahead of the cut-off, so now I focused on keeping a steady pace.

Starting up Hamel is a constant 3.5 kilometre climb to the old mine road.  On fresh legs, I have made it to the road in just less than an hour, but today, I was hoping to reach the road in less than one hour and fifteen minutes.  My legs were tired and every step took extra effort.  It wasnt long before Dan and I caught up to another group of runners.  They hadn't been on that portion of the race before so I tried to describe to them what they had to look forward to on Mnt Hamel and Ambler Loop on the other side.

Soon, the topic of the bear encounter I had experienced earlier in the summer came up.  Until this point in the race, I had given it very little thought.  Now as we worked our way closer to the spot, I could feel the apprehension setting it.  I wasnt really scared, but it was the thought of the unknown....would all the activity on the trail really be enough to keep the bears away or would the setting sun wake up the bears and make them more active and curious?

I was trying to focus on the section of trail just in front of me rather than what might be up ahead, when a lone runner came around the corner headed towards us! My first thought was that he turned around because of a bear on the trail, then he explained that he had leg cramps so bad, he had quit the race, and was going back to the last transition to get a ride into town....

It was a sobering thought for me.  The slim chance of a bear on the trail seemed highly unlikely, but it was a very real fact, that at least one person had dropped from the race.  Failure, was an option!  In the final push to the mine road, the dark clouds started to rain.  It was just a sprinkle, but the higher we got, the more the temperature dropped.

Finally we reached the mine road.  There was a small aid station set up under a tent with a few hearty volunteers cheering us on.  Unsheltered from the trees, the mountain wind was even colder.  The crew advised us that the next aid station just 2 kilometres up the mountain was reporting rain and the temperature was 5 degrees colder.  While we were bracing for what was ahead of us, a side-by-side came down the road and stopped at the aid station.  Three people were wrapped in silver space blankets, soaking wet, and fighting hypothermia.  Mount Hamel was tougher than they were, and they dropped from the race.

Without hesitation, Dan and I agreed, that this would be a smart place to put on our rain gear; when we could do it under the shelter of the tent.  As soon as we could, we were back on the trail.  The next kilometre followed an old road and was mostly down hill.  We took the opportunity to run a bit and stretch out our legs that had gotten stiff from the cold and the uphill climb.  The easy running didn't seem to last long enough, the trail got steeper and rockier and rain started to fall heavily.

No one in our small group talked much, we were all fighting in our way, just to keep going.  The higher we got, the shorter the trees became.  Occasionally, the rain seemed to turn to snow and the wind made it sting the exposed skin on my face.  Then we met another side-by-side...with more runners who had dropped from the race.  We kept power-hiking up the hill in silence.

We rounded a corner and I looked up the trail about 100 yards where the trail disappeared again to the right.  "This is the spot" I mumbled to Dan who was just behind me "At the next corner is where we encountered the bear."  No one spoke as we neared the exact spot in the trail.  My thoughts went back to the day it all happened, "That run seemed like just another run.  I was in this exact spot and was completely unaware of what was about to happen.  In the next 2 minutes, my view of life would be changed forever."  But today, it was different.  I was fighting a different fear.  It was the fear of failure and falling short of my goal and not finishing the race.

                                                       "Fear is not your enemy.  
                 As long as you strive for growth, it is your stepping stone to success."  
                                                         -  Akshay Xnanavati

We stopped for a few minutes and I rehearsed the story aloud.  Each moment of the encounter still seemed so vivid, and again I realized how fortunate I was.  I had survived that and I was strong enough to finish this race!  Just like the calm I felt during the bear encounter, I knew that inside me was everything I needed to keep going up the mountain.

Shortly after we started climbing again, the rain stopped but it was still cold.  Dan was starting to have problems with leg cramps and wanted to stop and stretch.  He was insistent that I keep on going.  After giving him a couple salt tablets, I kept making my way up hill slowly to the next aid station at Hamel Escape.  If we didn't make it to the checkpoint by 10:15, we would be given a "free ride" back down the hill.

Delusion was starting to set in again.  I was beginning to panic that I would not make it to the checkpoint in time.  When an ATV came up behind me, I asked the driver how much farther it was to the aid station and if I would make it in time.  He assured me that it was less than a kilometre up the trail and that I had over an hour and a half to make it there.... I should be good!  For some reason, I thought it was 9:30PM but really it was only 8:30PM!  I could see Dan behind me, still coming up the trail slowly.
"Climbing up Hamel nearing Hamel Escape Aid Station.  I met up with Michal from Grande Prairie."

When I got the Hamel Escape, I refilled my pack with water and tried a few of the snacks they had.  I knew better than to eat new food at this point in the race, but I decided to take a risk and enjoy a few salt and vinegar chips.  Before I left, Dan had arrived and we left the aid station together.  The rain had now stopped and we both felt much better.
"The rain stopped and the sun came out as we
climbed up Hamel.'

From Hamel Escape, the trail started to climb steeply to the summit.  The trees gave way to sparse shrubs then those too disappeared as we climbed higher.  The trail traverses a large rock slide and consists of 10 switch-backs cut into the loose mountain rock.  The rain clouds had moved east and now the setting sun could be seen dropping below the overcast sky onto the mountainous horizon.  The nearly horizontal rays of fading sunshine illuminated the rain storm behind us.  A rainbow arched over the ridge we had just been following.  It seemed like the ending of a perfect day.  Even though it was after 10PM, the day was not even close to being finished...the night was just beginning!
"Looking to the east from Hamel."

Close to the top of Mnt Hamel is one of the last places on Leg 4 where there is cell service.  I took the opportunity to do another Facebook Live video, share the breath-taking sunset, and give Cheri and my friends on Facebook a progress update.  I was able to add my sister (who lives in California) to the video and share the experience first hand with her.  The conversation with her seemed to help me recover from the state of delusion and I was now feeling quite energized.

Reaching the summit of Hamel, the sunset had faded and turned into night.  Dan and I discussed when we would stop to get out our headlamps.  We agreed to run in the dusk to the last moment in order to save our batteries as long as possible.  We were about a kilometre into the descent when it got too dark to see.  We stopped and put on our headlamps and also took the opportunity to eat.  This seemed like the perfect time to have a treat of bacon and Mars bites.  I was determined to keep my nutrition up.  In one of my night-time training runs, I discovered that for me, time goes faster in the dark.  If I don't pay careful attention to my watch, it is easy to miss my eating intervals and not eat enough.

It was now completely dark.  The overcast clouds covered the stars.   The black sky mixed with the blackness of the mountain.  Only the faint flicker of a runners' headlamp could define where the sky ended and the mountain began.  Soon we were back in the trees.  Since we were now on the south west side of the mountain, the trees were thick alder and willow, with bows hanging low over the rutty quad trail.  The beam of my headlamp was mostly focused on the trail close in front of me, and the trail constantly running beneath my feet was almost hypnotic.

Dan and I soon caught up to two runners who were sharing a headlamp.  One of them had misjudged their time and put their headlamp in their drop bag at Ambler Loop which was still 8 kilometres ahead.  I had a third headlamp in my pack just for emergency, so we stopped and dug it out for them.  With a bit of convincing, I shared some of my bacon with them too and we were on our way again.

The trail was fairly consistent for the next 5 kilometres - two large ruts, with large rocks protruding from the high spots.  It was arguable if it was better to run in the bottom of the ruts or try to maintain your footing on the slippery rocks.  Time seemed to stand still as we kept running down hill.  The only break back to reality was when we would walk for a minute or two so we could eat.  Focusing on nutrition seem to be the only thing I could focus on.  My eyes struggled to see any features of the trail.  Slipping on the trail seemed to be the only other event that could snap me out of my downhill daze.

As we got lower, the trail flattened out and is cut into the sidehill before crossing a small logging block.  The mostly flat terrain was a welcome change to the 10 kilometres of climbing up Mnt Hamel followed by 7 kilometres of steep descent. The final kilometres to the aid station were very uneventful.  The only visible "landmarks" were the large mud holes in the trail scattered in between the large stretches of muddy trail.

Finally, through he trees we could see the lights of the aid station at Ambler loop and when we got closer, I could hear Ken's booming voice as he directed tired runners into the aid station.  I had run many training runs with Ken, and it was great to see a familiar face on the trail.

Dan and I quickly refilled our water bladders, then started Ambler Loop.  The 5 kilometre loop starts with 2 kilometres of gradual down hill on a gravel road, followed by 3 kilometres of muddy quad trail up and over a small hill, then back into the same aid station.  We took advantage of the road section and ran as best we could.  It was nearly 1AM and we had been running for almost 17 hours.  My "running" pace was more of a power-walk for the average person, but it was still faster than my walking pace.  We kept pushing on into the night.  The 5 kilometre loop took us just under an hour to complete, but arriving back at the aid station was a welcome relief.

This aid station is not accessible by race crew, but I was able to get a drop bag sent there.  I refilled my water, put on a dry shirt and a dry pair of shoes.  The remainder of Leg 4 was 7 kilometres of Beaver Dam Rd (ALL down hill) followed by 2 kilometres along the highway, so I opted to switch out my trail shoes for a pair if high cushion road shoes.  Prior to the race, I was cautious about changing shoes here.  I was afraid that my feet would be too swollen to fit into my road shoes, but I figured it would be worth the risk.  I had another pair of trail shoes at the end of this leg to use on the final leg.

Beaver Dam Rd lived up to its nickname, "Damn Beaver Rd".  It is a constant steep downhill grade with very little change in grade.  After running for nearly 95 kilometres, there aren't too many muscles that aren't fatigued.  The constant downhill pounding turned my quads into jelly and it wasnt long before I could start to feel hot spots forming on the bottoms of my feet.  The road is so non-technical, that it was a struggle to stay awake and focused.  The only conversation between Dan and I was to ask how the other person was doing....we lied lots, and said we felt pretty good; but neither one of us wanted to slow the other person down, so we kept going and pushing each other.

Once we hit the highway, the end of the leg seemed to nearly be in sight.  The two kilometres along the highway consisted of a couple rolling hills then when the lights of the aid station were in sight, it was a gradual downhill the rest of the way into the transition.  I could hear Cheri calling me the closer we got to the transition.  She met me at the timing mat, and directed me to the chair that was waiting near a propane fire pit. It was just before 3 AM, I was nearly 45 minutes ahead of my schedule!

Surprisingly, I felt pretty good.  My legs felt kind of numb from all the downhill and I was pretty sure I had some blisters happening on the balls of my feet, so when changing my shoes, Dan rubbed more vaseline through my muddy socks and into my feet.  I didn't dare take off my socks now. I was afraid of what I would see.  I had only given myself 10 minutes for the transitions, but just in the short time I had been sitting there, my legs stiffened up and I wasnt able to stand up.  Cheri and Dan helped me lay down on a mat then proceeded to roll the back of my legs with a massage roller.  Im not sure what felt better; laying down, or having my legs rolled, but during that 30 seconds of bliss, I am pretty sure I fell asleep.  They helped my back to my feet and put on my hydration pack which had been refilled with food and water for the last time in the race.

I gave the crew high-fives, then gave Cheri a hug and a kiss.  I will never forget that moment, I knew I could finish this race.  In my mind it was already finished.  I didn't want that hug to end, I just wanted to stay there and fall sleep.  I struggled to fight back the tears as I left the warmth of the campfire and again met up with Dan and start the final leg of the race.

Leg 5 of the race, I was also joined by Zanne from our run group in Grande Prairie.  She had organized a relay team to run with me during the race.  On the other legs, the relay runners paces didn't match mine so I never ran with them, but Zanne waited at the transition to run the final leg and help keep me going to the finish line.

Right out of the transition, there is a big ugly climb.  It really wasnt much of a hill compared to what I had been through in the past 20 hours, but my body was so fatigued and my mind was numb.  In the darkness, the top was not visible, so I just had to keep moving.  In my mind, I was already finished the race.  I wasn't even pushing myself any more.  It was just reflex motions that kept me moving ahead.

The single track trail twisted along the brushy side hill.  The roots and stumps on the trail seemed to hide in the shadows of the waist high grass.  The bright beam from my headlamp illuminated the brush under the high aspen canopy.  Behind every tree stood ominous shadows that seemed to be watching us as we slowly continued along the trail, like prisoners marching to an unknown fate....  Zanne's frequent "WHOO HOO's" to scare away the bears, was all that brought me back to reality.  Every step was painful!  For the first time in the race, I was focusing on the pain.  My mind was too fatigued to push through it.  Each step sent pain shooting up my right thigh, into my hip....a pain I had never experienced before.  With each step, the pain continued to fill my mind.

                                        "Unless you puke, faint or die, keep going" 
                                                          - Jillian Michaels

Stopping now was not an option.  The next checkpoint was at the river crossing which should be less than an hour down the trail.  I was still well ahead of schedule to make the final boat crossing at 6AM.  In the darkness, the sound of the water cascading down the rocky bed seemed to refresh my mind.  I was too tired to go on my hands and knees, so I laid down beside the creek and drank from the cold water.  It was all I could do to get back to my feet and get moving again.  The creek was such a calm and friendly place, I didn't want to leave.

Each creek was followed by a climb out of the small valley.  My legs were too tired to lift my body, so I used my poles and upper body strength to make my way up the muddy slopes.  Finally, the trail moved farther from the hillside and started to widen out.  When we came to Split Rock, the trail was more familiar.  Through the trees, I could see the lights from the Sulfer Gates aid station.  The smiling faces and the table covered with food didn't even excite me.  I didn't even stop, I just kept on power hiking as best I could.

My focus was to get to the boat at the river crossing.  I knew at the bottom of the hill, I would get a bit of a break while we crossed the river.  Finally, we broke out of the trees and were greeted by "Charon", standing on a small sand bar beside the river.  A generator powered a small light that illuminated the boat launch area.
"Crossing the river."


I was too tired to even be worried about my coin.  I knew it was still stashed safely inside my first aid kit.  But my hands didn't seem to do what my mind wanted them to do, I couldn't find my first aid kit in my pack!!  Zanne wasnt helping matters much and was telling me to hurry up, or the boat would leave without me.  She also took the opportunity to use me as a leaning post for a photo opportunity while I was digging through my pack.  Finally, I opened the correct pocket and found my first aid kit.  My cold hands fumbled to get it open and take the silver coin out of the ziplock bag.  After paying the "Charon", I was permitted to board the boat.  I gathered my belongings that were scattered on the beach, stuffed them in my pockets and hurriedly boarded the boat.

While I sat repacking my belongings, I saw my container of emergency Vaseline....  Im not sure if it was because I was sitting, or because I had the Vaseline container in my hand, but suddenly I was aware of chafing for the first time in the race!  The two minute boat ride was over too soon.  After disembarking on the gravel bar far from the lights of the launch area, I took the opportunity to apply the Vaseline in the shadows.

Zanne reminded me that of the last ugly climb in the race was just ahead.  The quad trail seemed to go straight up out of the river valley.  The sun was starting to come up, and the temperatures dropped a little colder.  Knowing that this was the final climb in the race somehow gave me renewed energy!  There was definitely not a spring in my step, but my pace was slow and steady.  When we reached the top, it was familiar trail for the next 8 kilometres.  The quad trail wound through the spruce trees along the edge of a ravine.  We were so focused on finishing, not many words were spoken.  Dan, Zanne and I agreed, that now it was a race to the finish.  Everyone could run our own pace to the finish line.  Dan, who had been running with me for over 12 hours slowly moved ahead of me; and Zanne who had been keeping us both entertained for the past few hours, stayed just behind me.  I could still hear her frequently yelling at any random bears that might be nearby.

When I got back in cell service, I took the opportunity to do a Facebook Live video.  Cheri was already at the finish line waiting for me.  When I saw she was watching the video, emotion overwhelmed me!  The end was so close, but it still seemed so far away!  I knew I would finish in time, but I didn't know exactly how many kilometres I had left.  I just had to keep moving!  Whenever the trail was downhill, I took the opportunity to run as best I could and make up a little time.  When the trail broke out of the trees onto a gravel road, I knew I was close to the finish.  Just a few kilometres were left.
"Cheri, Dan and Stuck waiting at the finish line at 7AM for me to arrive."


I was too tired to run.  The gravel road wound its way up one last hill and from somewhere deep inside, I found a little more energy.  My hat was pulled low over my eyes.  The brim blocked any peripheral vision, and I only focused on the next 4 feet of road as it passed under my feet.  My legs were numb; I no longer felt the pain....  I used my running poles to keep me moving forward.  All my forward movement seemed to come from my upper body as I finish the last few kilometres up the hill.  My back started to tense up and I could feel the tension travel up my neck and into the back of my head.  I just had to keep moving!  With every pole strike, I took three steps.  The rhythm on the gravel road hypnotized me and kept me on a steady pace.... Poles, one, two, three....Poles, one, two, three....Poles, one, two....pavement....  The gravel road had ended and I was in town!  Less than a kilometre to go!

The course turned to the right and for three blocks continued uphill along the sidewalk.  A few people were sitting on their front lawns drinking coffee as I shuffled past them.  Everyone shouted encouraging words.  I tried to respond, but had to fight back tears every time, so I thanked them silently with a wave as I passed by.  At the final left hand turn, I could hear music and see the finish line.  Somehow, I found the strength to run the final three blocks.  When the finish line was in sight, I could hear people from our run group calling my name.  Oddly, the emotion that I had been expecting, disappeared and I found a little speed in my legs.  Im sure I wasn't running fast, but it felt like I was flying when I crossed the finish line....23 hours, 21 minutes, and 25 seconds.
"Crossing the finish line.....there are no words to explain the feeling...."
"Tired...."
I crossed the finish line and fell into Cheri's open arms.  Every last ounce of energy and strength seemed to be used up.  She helped me sit in a nearby chair.  The rest of the crew, friends and my coach were there waiting for me....what an amazing team!!  I couldn't believe it was really finished!!  I had just run a 125 kilometre race!!  I really wasn't too sure my body could complete it, but in my mind, I told myself I would do it.



"Enjoying a cold one at the finish line with Dan The Man!!!  Im not sure who was pacing who, but
together, two rookies  soloed the Death Race on our first attempt!!"


"Before going to bed, I had to do a cold soak in the lake
to help my legs recover, (massage therapists orders!!)"
"The shoes of the race....  
I think they took longer to get back to normal than I did!!"

Although Cheri and Dan were my "official" crew.  There were so many people that helped make this race a success!!  My coach Krista was always pushing me and encouraging me when I was struggling.  Daryl, Michal, Yasna, Christine, and so many others were amazing mentors to me while I was training and helped out during the race.  Not to mention the numerous people that joined me on training runs.  Lisa and the staff at Walk Run and More helped me out with finding many pairs of shoes that fit me just right and helped me replace my running poles as fast as I broke them!!  

Ive heard that running is a solo sport, but without the help of MANY people, this day would not have been a success for me.  I cannot thank everyone enough!!!

Thursday, 19 July 2018

Mnt Hamel, Part 2: Conquer the Mountain; Overcome Fear

"The only place that fear can exist is in our thoughts of the future.  
It is a product of our imagination, causing us to fear things that do not at present
and may not ever exist."
That is near insanity!!  
Do not misunderstand me, danger is very real,
but fear is a choice" - Will Smith


After the grizzly bear encounter on Mnt Hamel on July 7 on leg 4 of the Canadian Death Race, I will admit; I was quite apprehensive to run that section of the course on race day.  (If you missed that blog, go here for the full story.)  I felt the only way I would or could overcome that fear and run past that place on race day was to face it head on, and re-visit the spot ahead of time.

"Back at the vehicle, Lisa and I stopped for picture.
A memory of how fortunate we were."
With only three weekends before the race (and one of those I was racing Sinister 7) I didn't have too many options to do this run.  I was also supposed to start my taper after the July 7 run, but the run was cut short because of the bear encounter so I still needed to fit one more long run into my schedule.

A friend from Fort St John also wanted to train on leg 4 of the race and had a group that was planning to do it on July 14.  It was the only day that would work for me, so I agreed to join them on the run.  I checked with Lisa, and she was also able to join us.  We could face our fears together, and win part of the Death Race before it even started!!!  

Two nights prior to the run, the emotions of the bear encounter hit me again.  As I was lying in bed trying to find sleep; I remembered vividly, the image of the Grizzly bear's face, just inches from Lisa's feet while she was laying on the ground, unable to get away.  The sound of the bears growling at us resonated in my head as I fought the mental images and the terrifying memories of what we had gone through on the mountain.  I knew this run would be challenging physically, but the real challenge for me would be the mental part.  Finally, I was able to push the thoughts out of my mind and fell asleep.
"I took this picture during my 30 km night time
solo run.  Just the day prior to the bear encounter
I wrote this meme while I was waiting
in an airport.  I didn't realize how true it was!!"

The next day, we sorted out the usual logistics for a long run in Grande Cache.  Lisa and I wanted to run leg 4 and 5 while the rest of the group was only planning on running leg 4.

The morning of the run, Lisa and I traveled to Grande Cache together.  This was the first time we had been able to visit since the encounter.  We both had questions about some details of what had happened and why it all happened.  We hoped that today would give us some answers to both questions.  By 8:30AM we had the vehicles positioned at the end of the trails and the group of runners were ready to start leg 4.

It was a cool morning, but the sun was shining and the light breeze was just enough to keep us from over-heating as we started up the power line and into the bush.  The steady climb of the first few kilometers of the trail set our pace; but the conversation in the group soon turned to the bear encounter that had happened two weeks prior.  Everyone in the group was wearing bear spray and even though we were in a large group, the frequent "WHOOPS" and hollers were a sure sign that everyone was alert for bears.

The south facing slope was very bright, but the thick under brush restricted the view of the surrounding areas near the trail.  As we continued up the mountain, Lisa and I ran together and were in the front of the group, but we all stayed close together.  The closer we got to the place of the encounter, the mountain and trees seemed more foreboding.

Several times, I looked at Lisa as we got nearer to the spot and asked if she was doing okay.  It was more to calm my own apprehensions.  The closer we got, every step seemed to take a little more effort and our pace slowed.  Finally we came onto a short straight section of the trail and we both agreed that the encounter had happened just ahead on the next corner. 

"The bear encounter happened at the
end of this straight stretch."
We walked in silence the last few meters.  I could hear my heart thumping in my head and the memories of the life-changing encounter started to come back.  I pushed the fears aside and kept moving ahead cautiously.

When we stopped in the road at the exact place where it all happened, the surrounding area seemed brighter than I remembered....  Even though only two weeks had passed since we had left that spot, the grass seemed greener and brighter.  The mountain flowers seemed to be blooming more and were more prolific.  It was actually a beautiful spot!!  We spent a bit of time with the group rehearsing in real time how it all happened and I realized again how fortunate I was to be able to come back to this spot and take a moment for final closure to this harrowing experience.

We started to look for my Go Pro camera that had fallen out of my pack during the encounter.  It wasn't long before Lisa spotted it in the tall grass near the spot where she had fallen down.  It turned on and seemed fine, but a closer inspection revealed a crack in the lens.  I must have stepped on it after it fell on the ground.  

"The place where all the action happened."
"Lisa, looking at the bush she fell into with the bear was at her feet.  Dakota,
seems to remember this place too and doesn't look too impressed!!!"
The disappointment of the damaged camera definitely didn't dampen my spirits. I had more important things to be thankful for.  As we left the spot of the bear encounter and continued up the road to the summit of Mnt Hamel, it felt as if a very scary and fearful experience had been corrected, and made much better and more accurate.  The place of the encounter was no longer a fearful and dark spot; but a place where I was given a second chance at life - a place where my life was given more meaning. 
"The summit of Mnt Hamel."

"Running down the ridge from the summit."

"Passing the fire lookout at the top."

That spot on the mountain will always be very important to me.  The last two times I have been there, it has made a life changing impact on me.  The first time, I realized that it wasn't my time to die and that I still had a purpose in life; but this time I realized that I had the courage and the fight to overcome any fear or challenge that would come between me an any of my goals. 

With the 125 kilometer Canadian Death Race less than three weeks away, a big challenge is on the horizon; but somehow, it seems slightly smaller and it seems like I have already won the important part of the race.

"Fear is not your enemy.  As long as you strive for growth,
it is a stepping stone to success."
- Akshay Xnanavati

"Courage doesn't mean 
you don't get afraid.
Courage means 
you don't let fear stop you."
- Unknown