Woke up at 5 AM to that goddamn alarm clock (“Crickets”) and would have gone back to bed, had the g/f not immediately said “You can do it.” I also remembered something someone wrote on Reddit/r/running about getting up early to run: “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Well, sure as hell everyone ain’t getting up at 5 AM to run 50 miles, so I got up.

My stuff was packed from the night before. I had my Salomon bag, a metric ass-ton of fuel, about 2.5 L of water or less, and my clothes. I figured since it was hot and sunny on Sat, I’d wear my shorts and compression calf tubes, for maximum ultra-runner visual indication. Nothing says “endurance” like compression socks!

I also wore a t-shirt (Fuelled by Fine Wine!) under my Adidas long sleeve, instead of a jacket, and brought a hat as well as my beanie, and sunnies. I wore the g/f’s arm sleeves as well. All amazingly good decisions, I must say. Well, for the most part…

Ok, got all my stuff put on, stuck my phone in my chest pocket and … broke the drawcord on my pack. Goddamn this Salomon pack is a real piece of shit. So I had a loose pocket where all my stuff was going to fly everywhere. Had to strap it across my chest to some random loop. Better than going without the pocket, I needed all the room I could get.

So while the city slept, I headed out under cover of darkness.

The way out…

It was freezing cold and my Garmin took it’s sweet time getting a lock. I was feeling good, nice and loose in my shorts. So much better than tights. Legs felt good, and ankle wasn’t hurting. I felt a few minor twinges in my achilles / calf but nothing major and didn’t reappear the entire run. Good! By 3 km I was warming up, and by 5 km I’d already taken off the gloves.

As you run into Stanley Park, there’s this bench / bus stop looking thing (except it’s in the woods) at a major trail junction. And it seems like there’s always someone sitting there. I even said to myself “I bet there’s a fucking weirdo sitting there…” and I swear to god there was. I have run by that bench at 1 AM, 5 AM, you name it, there is always a sketchy dude sitting there. WTF! Is it always the same guy!?

Ran to the top of the park and took a photo of the sun coming up over the city. Was a bit early for sunrise but I think I caught the best part of it.

From there I ran down onto Ambleside beach. Very few people out. I was surprised there wasn’t more cyclists. Saw a very few hardcores but really no one until the way home, many hours later…

The beach was nice. Tide was really super high, and the light was great. I was feeling wonderful, but was only about 10 km in!

It was a full moon only a couple days ago, and the moon was shining brightly over the ships in the harbour, was freaking awesome. My iPhone captured the glory in spectacular iPotato picture quality, but you get the gist…

From there it was a few km more. Finally was able to stop and lighten the load at the spectacular Ambleside beach washroom facilities. I can say without a doubt the best part of the running at 5 AM is that I’m the first person to ride the porcelain cruise after cleaning. Oh blessed disinfectant, I say a prayer unto thee.

(Apologies for the scungy mirror photo, we don’t have a mirror in our house capable of such an all-encompassing view.)

Ok, so now the running is getting more serious. I’m on Marine drive, and I’m pounding out the miles. 20, 25… Finally make it to the end of Whytecliff Park, turn around (another pee break) and start on back.

The way back…

Here I get the bright idea to set a new 50 mile “PB” while I’m at it… when I noticed that my pace is freaking awesome. I am putting down nearly 5 minute km (8 minute miles) and feeling like it’s easy as pie. I am daydreaming of winning Leadville. I am thinking “If I can run this fast why don’t I just hang with the leaders and see if I can take like… top 10??” … Aaaahhh, the blessed naivety of the first-half-of-the-race runner! Why can I never remember the pain!??!

Anyway, I trundle on. I am absolutely killing it, feeling fine and wondering if I can make sub 4 hours for two marathons in a row. That would be cool, eh?? Yeah, ask me again, after 80 km, if I want to run another 4.4 extra at 5 minute pace…

Mostly things are going great. I ran a marathon and actually felt pretty good. I didn’t feel very good last time I ran the marathon (when I did 67, or 55 two weeks later) … and I wondered “does it always feel bad??” … well this time I actually felt pretty reasonable, so I guess the answer is no.

I was kinda feeling it in the quads though, feeling a bit heavy. I was gradually reminded of why I don’t win marathons, because I’m actually slow as shit and old as dirt, and that “running on air” feeling had long since passed. I was grinding ’em out though. I’m sure there was lots to talk about, but I’ve forgotten most of it… I need to bring a voice recorder. I guess I could use my phone? I’ll try that next time.

The funniest thing is how goddamn emotional I (presumably anyone) gets when doing these types of things. I guess your brain and body are just so exhausted that chemical imbalance becomes increasingly severe. I imagined me and my whole family running across the finish line at Leadville, visualized how it was going to feel, my shambling pace, tears of joy, and I almost started crying on my run! Another time I was thinking of the dog, and started tearing up. Best to just let the mind go blank, really, avoid reducing yourself to tears on the side of the highway!

Towards UBC

Ok, so after a whole lot of uneventful but increasingly painful miles, I’m on the “out” stretch towards UBC, and life is sucking. I’m like at the 53 km mark, and I’ve got to run away from home for another 13 km! Christ. Does it ever end? My legs are killing me. I was still running really fast (almost 5 min/km pace still) but really was struggling to slow down. So I stopped, massaged my calves out, and feet, and then forced myself to go really slow. I wondered, “Does going slow actually feel better? Will I recover somewhat?” I still am not sure. I think once you’re fucked up, you’re fucked up for good. It ain’t coming back. I also don’t think running faster is particularly more stressful on flat ground. I need to do some experimenting though… maybe I’ll run the same run in a couple weeks and use a different pacing strategy?

My toes were hurting. I wear my shoes really loose which means on the downhills my toenails get mashed into my shoes. Ouch. I wondered if I’ll finally lose one. I didn’t in my 50 mile race, so I don’t think I will.

Ok, I finally get up that damned UBC hill, and turn back for home. Only 13 km to go. Christ, that seemed far. It just wouldn’t end. The heat was getting to me. I was feeling nauseous. Why the hell did I wear a black t-shirt?? Why do they even sell black running clothes?? My socks are black too. Stupid Salomon piece of crap bag is mostly black too. Great idea Salomon, why not just make it out of ski boot warmers??

Back in the city, down by False Creek. 5 km to go. Some dude wearing my shoes passes me. He’s the only person I’ve seen wearing the Elixir 7’s, and he blazed passed me in a cloud of dust. I was so pissed. Man. Passed by my own shoes! I looked down at my poor battered footwear with a disgusted look. “You two make me sick. Allowing us to be passed like that? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” Despite my loathing, they were unable to go any faster. Struggling now to maintain 5:30 or even 5:40.

I came to the Cambie Bridge and took the stairs up to the deck so I could cross the water. There’s no way I’m running any further than required. The plan says 80, and that’s it man. My dreams of 84.4 km (double marathon) were long gone, replaced only with pain and suffering.

In the end I did well, I managed to easily break 8 hours for 80 km, despite what seemed like a million walk, pee and bathroom breaks. I guess for Leadville I will take 12 hours (at best!) to do 80 km, so I’ll slow down and do more hills next time. I finished 80 km in 7:48 almost exactly. Pretty good, my last 50 miler was in 8:27. Granted that was a epic uphill course and in much hotter weather.

The Aftermath

I was really tired and crashed for a nap for quite a while. My legs from the knees down were really quite beat up. More than I thought. My feet were very sore, and some of the toes (like, inside them) felt bruised. My calves feel really good but my left achilles was tweaky. I took the dog for a walk and went barefoot and that felt much better. Oddly, my hip adductors are quite sore. It seems to be really high up, and so I would guess that it’s my Psoas, especially since that seems to tie into the lower back. I know that I run “broken at the hip” a fair amount, but that I try hard to rectify that (“hips forward”) and so perhaps I was working that muscle a fair bit. I’d have to read into it more.

I also found that after my run I wasn’t hungry at all, and when we sat down to eat dinner I just couldn’t do it. Sweets yes, but the steak salad and thai curry just wasn’t going to happen. I nearly barfed. I wondered if this was “running related nausea”? I know that previously I complained about never experiencing nausea in my training runs, so I was glad to have finally (seemingly) done that this time. I guess you need to push the pace a bit in order to do that? I had no problem eating the Cadbury Caramel Eggs though, you’ll be happy to know.

Another interesting first experience was that my ribs are bruised, on the jutty parts at the far edges. I assume this is from my phone and 10 oz fuel bottle that I kept in the front pockets. Ouch. Something to look out for during race day. I’ll probably be running with a lot less gear during the race though, so shouldn’t be a factor.

Lessons Learned