WAM 100 mile
162km, 9000m elevation gain, 27hours 47minutes
Wow, what a course! This has been my main training goal for the last year but even so I really didn’t know what to expect. I was staying in Whistler with Adrien who has started 5 100milers, winning at least a couple of them. We got to the start line at 6:30 to cool and clear conditions. Ultra running is so funny, here was a group of 150 runners and their family and friends gathering at dawn in a random gravel lot, all dressed in their finest running regalia – running vests, compression socks, rain jackets that cost hundreds of dollars but look like garbage bags – we’re a funny bunch!
After a few hellos with other runners I knew it was time to line up for the start. The pace was predictably high from the start on the first km of flat road, as I tried my best to judge my pace, keep it easy and run my own pace. On the fun winding mountain bike trail up I found this difficult with runners immediately in front or behind me, but I settled in eventually. This was a super fun trail with great flow, features and little bits of slab here and there. I can see why people love mountain biking in Whistler!
We hit the first aid station at 10km, I just topped up my water bottles and got out of there – talking with my coach and also Adrien they had both stressed getting what you need from aid stations then getting out of there promptly. Mostly I was only at the aid stations long enough for the incredible volunteers to fill my water bottles. I took one soft flask with a filter for water, and one with two scoops of tailwind. Whilst they were doing this I’d fill up a snack bag with some of the treats on offer to eat on the move. To save time I took extra flasks with tailwind already inside (but no water), to be filled each aid station. The exception was at my two drop bags where I had some change of gear options, and would replace all those flasks with fresh ones.
We burst out of the dark forest and onto a wide and open gravel road that winds up Blackcomb mountain. As uphill running is a weakness of mine, I’d trained a lot on ‘runnable uphills’ and I saw some of the benefits on this section. The gradual steady climb meant I could keep a good rhythm, and over the next few kms I started seeing Adrien in the distance and slowly drew level with him after we passed the top of the gondola and entered the alpine. He was going well too and we stuck together, it was great to chat and relax a little together and the views were stunning!! Huge glaciers in the distance, mountain peaks in every direction, clear skies, it was stunning. The terrain was pretty rugged with big blocks and sharp rocks requiring careful foot placements.
Next was the first big downhill. I was quicker out of the second aid station than Adrien, but knew with 1400m of descent he’d easily catch me as this is his specialty. We soon started passing the Vertical Kilometer racers, Karl was in second! I gave him a big cheer which I wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t respond to as he was obviously redlining. As we passed hundreds of runners my energy was sky high as they all pulled aside and cheered us on – what an awesome atmosphere! About a km from the next aid Adrien predictably caught and passed me, but we entered the Base aid station together, feeling good and all smiles.
30km and 2,000m (which took 4hrs 10min) in I changed my shoes (Salomon pulsar trail to Hoka Speedgoat 5). Saira was there and helped us out by refilling some bottles and organizing gear. We left together as well, taking about 3mins in the aid station – pretty good as this involved accessing our drop bags too. Next up was Singing Pass and Whistler ridgetop – 20km and 1800m of gain to the next aid station, basically all uphill. It was getting warm and we were grateful for the shade and some cool breezes as we ground out this section. We took turns setting pace, alternating hiking and running, chatting away as if we were on a training run. At some point we both got a little quieter as the heat and gradient grew. Luckily there were quite a few streams along the way we could drink from…until suddenly we turned a corner were in the alpine. This brought more incredible views, but was the end of the shade. I knew we were still about 90mins from the next aid station and had just under a litre of water left. I got to work, rationing the water as I hiked my way up. Adrien started falling behind a little, I wasn’t worried at this point as I knew there was another long descent off Whistler and assumed he’d catch me back up there. I was parched and definitely a bit dehydrated as I came into the aid station, but I had come to terms with this as I hiked, I just had to get on with it.
The top of Whistler marked 50km and nearly 4,000m gained. I downed 750ml of electrolytes and left with another 500ml plus 500ml of tailwind. It’s fair to say I was suffering and my knees in particular felt really grumpy on this descent. This was another black mountain biking trail with some big slab drops (well for me anyway), and lots of technical sections. A bunch of people passed me as I tried to pitter-patter down looking after my knees. I felt far more upset by this than I wanted to. I came into the race with the goals to enjoy the views, be grateful and thank all the volunteers, and to finish smiling. I’d started so well though that I was getting caught up in people passing me, which seemed to fuel questions in my head about whether my body could handle this, and what would happen if it took me however long to finish. Perhaps I’d assumed that I’d be strong mentally without preparing myself enough for this? On reflection I think I just didn’t recognize I needed to reframe things early enough and got caught up in how hard it felt. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that it felt hard, but perhaps it was? I guess there is always more to learn in this crazy sport.
In time I made it to the next aid station, our second drop bag point. I tired to get in and out quickly, and rubbed some voltaren from my bag on my knees – instant relief! Sadly the pain returned after a few kms. The next crew point was only 6.5km further on, and Saira and Martine greeted me with big smiles and hugs. I was a bit grumpy and complained about my knees, but rolled through pretty quickly. The next section was this weird out and back that when you look at the course has clearly been tacked on to make up 100miles, it was my least favourite section by far! Basically it was about 8km of climbing on a gravel road, 5km along a lakeshore that was incredibly rough, lumpy and root-filled trail, and 8km down another gravel road. Then turn around and come back. Sounds ok, but without the views or the very definite goals of climbing + descending a mountain I struggled. I also started overheating – I’d experienced this a bit on the GDT where I pushed on hot days to the point of heat exhaustion, needing to lie in the shade for 10-15mins a few times before I could continue. I didn’t want to repeat this so rolled my shirt up under my armpits and unclasped my running vest to get as much airflow as possible, and kept my exertion down by hiking, wishing that I was running. On the GDT I’d jumped into rivers and lakes to cool off, but it was well into the evening and I knew it was going to get down close to freezing overnight. I didn’t want to put myself at risk of hypothermia by being soaked and then it cooling off. Instead I hiked along with my midriff showing, even though I could see my breath and the volunteers were now dressed in puffy jackets and toques. As night fell I got gradually more concerned that I wasn’t cooling down, quesadillas at an aid station certainly helped though! Worse was when I got a text from Adrien that he’s dropped out at the last crew point, his stomach never recovered from the dehydration on top of Whistler. I couldn’t shake thoughts of dropping out too, or at least asking a first aider about whether I should be concerned about my overheating.
Then one of those weird serendipitous moments happened. I got passed by another runner, but shortly after they took a wrong turn, as they came back onto the main trail we started running together. This was Tory (who placed 1st female!), who just started chatting to me. The conversation took my mind off things and suddenly I ran a 9min km, then an 8min km, then consecutive 7min kms! Hot dang I can run! Just like that, I breezed through the crew point (no one was waiting there for me as it was past midnight at this point), passed the 100km mark and marched onwards and upwards back towards Whistler. I left Tory with her crew with her off the cuff advice sticking with me “keep it steady and you never know what might happen”.
At 110km was my drop bag, and for the only time in the race, I sat down at an aid station. It was glorious, there was a fire going, but I knew I couldn’t get sucked into staying too long. I changed socks and shirt, refuelled with a perogie, filled all my flasks and forced myself to keep moving after about 15mins. I had two new weapons with me – the voltaren, which I applied whenever my knees or quads were aching, and caffeinated tailwind! I purposely didn’t have any caffeine before now, and instantly felt the buzz. I’d recommend this strategy to anyone running overnight, I had four flasks with 2 scoops of caffeinated tailwind each, starting at about 1am, so about 300mg in total. I planned to take some Awake chocolate with me as well but forgot it, this would have been another 50mg of caffeine per square, and one or two squares would have been perfect.
“Keep it steady” was clear in my mind as I hiked back up this black mountain bike trail. Although the overall gradient wasn’t too crazy (100-150m per km), this was often up steep drops, steps and slabs followed by rolling sections of trail. Looking back on this I’m happy I wasn’t getting frustrated by not being able to settle into a steady rhythm, instead just doing my thing. This was helped by the fact I was slowly overtaking most of the people who had passed me in the previous 40km. This felt more familiar, as I’m more used to starting out well within myself in a race and getting a mental boost from overtaking people in the latter stages who perhaps started too fast. What also felt familiar was hiking up a mountain alone – I’m not sure what this was about but I just felt more at ease without other racers in sight in front or behind me, like I could relax a bit more.
As I made my way, steadily, into the alpine I got another boost – the top of Whistler was in sight and it looking so beautiful in the light of the full moon! The aid station was at 118km, and with 7,500m of elevation now behind me my mind started drifting to the feeling of finishing, it was a fight to keep focused on this kilometer, this step, this breath. The night guard of volunteers at the aid were as generous and kind as ever, handing me a cup hot miso soup – oh my what an elixir! My mouth felt so disgusting and my teeth were starting to hurt from all the sugar I’d been eating, so the salty, savoury miso was a welcome changed, it warmed my soul. I later learned that Andy was curled in an emergency blanket sleeping at this aid station. He was in pretty bad shape after vomiting most of the way up Whistler and after a couple hours sleep felt no better so sadly dropped out. He told me later he opened his eyes and saw me drinking my soup but didn’t have the energy to call out.
I was enjoying myself as I headed back along along Whistler ridge – how many people get to be up here with clear skies and a full moon? My body was feeling pretty battered and beaten up at this point, the voltaren really helped and is far better than taking Advil or Tylenol for my stomach. Again, my mantra was to ‘keep it steady’, knowing that one misstep could turn the next 20km of pretty gradual descending (over 1,700m of it mind!) into absolute hell. On the smoothest hero grade trail where on a training run I would have been cruising at sub 5min/km, I was ecstatic to be running 8min/km. I guess I’d finally got my head into 100miler mode! The next challenge was feeling sleepy. It was about 5am and the last hour before the sun came up, yet my eyes were heavy and the desire to stop and rest was growing. I turned my headtorch up to full power, but it didn’t help. I gulped down the last of my caffeinated tailwind and pulled out my phone – there was a message from Megan cheering me one so I immediately called her. We chatted for a few minutes, mostly me just saying how difficult different parts of the race were and that I was somehow still moving. The signal cut out, but the change was immediate – I was awake again! Stunned at my turn around, I put on some happy up beat music and sung my way down the last few kms of singing pass trail as the sun began to rise.
23hrs 32mins was my time back at the Base 2 aid station, marking only 22km to go. More miso soup and some clapping and cheering from the volunteers got me on my way. I didn’t realise it at the time, but about 200m away as the crow flies was the finish line where the winner, John Maxwell, had just come in. I had 1650m up and down to get through, and messaged Adrien and Disston that I thought it would take between 4-6hrs so they could meet me at the finish. The hike up was brutal! I cursed race director Gary Robbins as we followed the same course up as the Vertical Kilometer race, except it was 138k into the race! My splits were 16, 17, 18 then 19min/km, exhausted but elated, I’d got through the bulk of the climbing and started to see the 100km runners heading the other way. We all gave each other a cheer and a “nice work!” or “good job!”. A few of them started saying they thought I was in 5th or 6th which I tried to take with a grain of salt, but also felt incredible.
The alpine loop at the top of Blackcomb was once again beautiful, but relentless with tricky footing to navigate once again. This was extremely mentally taxing, taking all of my focus to breathe deeply, pick my feet up as much as possible and slowly, steadily make forward progress. There was a little bit of chaos on the trails as 100km and 25km runners streamed up and around the course. Add in a few of us 100mile runners and it was confusing who should be running which way as there are a couple of intersections here you come through twice and leave in different directions. The volunteers were doing great but there was one intersection that was unmanned and I saw two groups of 2-3 25km runners take a wrong turn, descending quite a ways before backtracking with heartbroken looks of disbelief. Luckily, I picked the correct way and didn’t have to experience that pain, the final small climbs were hurting enough! Then, just as I was cresting the literal final uphill of the race, Saira appears from around the corner, she was running the 25km and we nearly bump into each other before locking eyes and recognizing each other “Fuck yes!” she yelled and immediately hugged me “You’re going to finish, you’re doing so well!”. It was such a genuine reaction the enormity of the run hit me right in the feels. This kind of support is what makes the running community in Canmore so special, everyone is so happy for each others achievements. The last time she has seen me was the previous evening when I complained about my knees hurting, since then Adrien and Andy had both dropped out, and she wasn’t sure if I was still in the race. I got to relive this experience a few times more as Martine, Marta and Chelsea all cheered me on. They might not have been able to see it but I had some tears sneaking out behind my sunglasses as we shared pure joy in seeing each other.
10km to go, 1200m of descending. Keep it steady, look after your quads otherwise this is going to turn into torture. I kept checking behind me in case there was another 100mile runner creeping up on me but in reality it was taking everything I had to keep moving. There is a saying that compares the the pain of running a marathon to an ultra “for an marathon the pain is an inch wide and a mile deep, whereas in an ultra it’s a mile wide and an inch deep” Whilst I agree that the focused discomfort of pounding the road with the same stride during a marathon is as described, at this point in the 100miles the pain was a mile wide and at least a km deep! Everything is uncomfortable, the bottom of my feet were sore, ankles and knees both very grumpy; quads, glutes and hamstrings beaten up; my ribs rubbed raw from my pack; shoulders a tight ball of muscle; my left elbow yelling at me from using my poles all day. As the single track ended and I emerged onto the wide smooth access road, I put these things to the side. Breath deep, full breaths, let your body run. I experienced another upshift as the draw of the finish line pulled me in, and I started running 5min kms! After only 4kms though the this effort was a little much, I backed off, consciously trying to enjoy these final kms. Obviously the people in front of me were way ahead and I seemed to have a good buffer on the next runner behind me too. Then suddenly around a corner two runners come into view with red race bibs – 100mile runners! They were walking, slowly picking their way down, whereas I was somehow cruising along. I felt bad for passing them so close to the finish but talking with them after they were moving as fast as their legs could take them.
Did that mean I was in 4th?? 3rd?? With 2km to go I pressed on, ignoring the first and only blister of my race – who cares if I get a blister now? I could hear the music of the finish line! Finally I pop out of the trees and can see the end, with my friends cheering me in and a smile plastered from ear to ear I crossed the line in 27hrs, 47mins, good enough for 8th overall! Turns out the first few runners had finished before the 100km started so they had thought I was a few places ahead of where I was. Still, I sat down in the shade, dumbfounded, not really knowing what to do but deeply proud of my run.
Lessons:
- Keep it steady – I don’t know if it was correlation or causation but my race turned around after that brief time running with Tory. Thanks for being so warm hearted to a stranger at midnight in the woods!
- You don’t have to stop when it gets hard – I do these things in part because they are a challenge. My race sucked for 7-8hrs but eventually I got through it. I think I could have worked on my ‘why’ for running this a little more, and made it a little more accessible during those hard times. Who knows, this might have helped me reframe things faster?
- Start waaaay easier than you think – I knew this, but wonder if I went out a little hard. I got a bit caught up in how I was doing compared to others, and wonder if I took an extra 15-30mins over the first 50km that I might have been stronger or avoided my really low period. I’ll never know if this would have made a difference or if I’d have just had a hard patch at another point in the race, but the 6th and 7th place finishers were both behind me after 30km and finished over an hour ahead of me. As I said, makes me wonder!
Huge thanks to all the volunteers and race organizers! This event was so well managed, I highly recommend it for any distance of runner, I hope I’ll be back – perhaps not for the 100miler though!