Lessons on Grotto Mountain

Grotto Mountain. It’s not a beautiful mountain, but I don’t always climb beautiful mountains. I climb them to look at other beautiful mountains or valleys. As usual I was chasing those views today but after 2 hours of quad shredding climbing I was forced to turn around only 400’ from the summit. A thunderstorm was suddenly rolling in across the valley almost 5 hours early. Really?! 🙇‍♀️ But it was like the voice of God telling me to get down off that mountain, NOW. Standing alone on a very exposed 9000’ peak in a lightening storm is not really a good idea so I did - but to say I was very disappointed is an understatement. As I started downclimbing 😣 and cursing just a little, I started to understand.

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Grotto Mountain doesn’t carry its beauty as a crown. It’s beauty and it’s namesake are discreetly wrapped in a massive breathtaking cathedral of rock hidden from view where only those who seek will find it. I had barely glanced at it on my way up. I wasn’t meant to summit, or run ridgelines today. I was meant to see the Grotto.

#grottomountain #primalwisdom #alwaysrespectthemountain #naturetherapy #staygrounded #payattention #downclimbingsucks #ultramindset #salmingrunningnorthamerica

...

I always feel excited climbing a mountain. Always. Today I felt anxious and a foreboding looking at the ridge. Almost turned back twice. I truly think God was yelling at me to LISTEN up already and get my ass back down before I committed to something that may get me in trouble. He knew something I didn’t. 

Sometimes God whispers to us and sometimes he has to YELL. 

As I was climbing up that mountain I had summit fever. I wanted to bag that peak, run that ridge, and get down before the storm hit. I climbed with a ferocity that I haven’t in a long time, panting and puffing in the thinning air like I was wearing an N95 mask. In several places it was serious scrambling requiring all 4 limbs. Several times I looked back thinking, damn. This would be hell to go down. I hope the other side of the ridge is easier. 

All this time I was circling a huge rock cathedral. I stopped to take a panoramic picture but what I had photographed barely registered in my hypoxic brain. It was majestic. It was breathtakingly beautiful.  I was looking at the grotto, the iconic rock formation for which the mountain was named, wrapped in columns of rock that seemed to protect it from external  forces...and I didn’t even notice. See picture at top of post.

Finally I stopped. I almost turned back. I realized I was only half way up and I felt something bad deep in my stomach. But I decided to ignore it and pressed on. I was conditioned not to stop and I was selfish. I had come too far and I wanted to see what was on top. 

Finally I broke out of the alpine and started the last ascent to the top. I celebrated every 100’ of gain as it started to sprinkle. Go go go! You’re almost there. Just summit and head back down. I kept bargaining. When I was only 400’ from the summit,

The thunder rolled. 

From far across the valley, on the other side of Canmore, the clouds darkened and thunder rumbled. When you are standing on a scree embankment almost 9000’ above sea level, dizzy with exhaustion, cracking thunder is hard to ignore. 

Keep in mind I was already going against all my instincts and all the messages the universe was trying to send me in continuing up that mountain. That thunder was yelling at me to wake up already and LISTEN. “Get your freaking ass off this mountain” was what popped into my head and this time I didn’t ignore it. I felt that knowing. I felt genuine fear. #alwaysrespectthemountain

I immediately turned around and headed down. Going up was slow and going down wasn’t much faster. The rocks would get very slippery and treacherous in the rain and as I watched rain drops dot the rocks, I prayed out loud that God would stop the rain until I made it below the tree line. Miraculously it stopped raining...until the EXACT moment I crossed the tree line. Tell me God isn’t real. 

As I slowly and carefully picked my way down that mountain the thunder continued to occasionally roll which would spur my feet into further downward action. When I passed the half way mark the sun came out and I fumed. Really?! Am I in the Hunger Games arena?

But sometimes God knows things we don’t. Like maybe I would have gotten lost on that ridge. Maybe I wouldn’t have made it down before the real thunderstorm developed at 3:30pm this afternoon. As an ultra runner I’ve conditioned myself to ignore pain and fatigue and the urge to stop. “Don’t stop” is a mantra that has gotten me to a lot of places I am proud of, including 100 mile finishes. But through it all I’ve always felt pulled towards my goal, not pushed, not repulsed.

Maybe I need to learn to listen when my instincts feel more like a magnetic repulsion rather than attraction. Today what seemed like a good idea required an addendum. So be it. 

Superior 50K Race Report

"The Superior 50 KM Trail Race is an extremely hilly, rugged and technical out-and-back (100% trail) ultramarathon which traverses the Sawtooth Mountain Range on the Superior Hiking Trail in the far reaches of northern Minnesota .  The course parallels Lake Superior, the greatest freshwater lake in the world, climbs to near 2000′ peaks with breath-taking vistas of the lake and inland forests and crosses whitewater rivers and serene streams while meandering through mystic Boreal forests.  The race starts and finishes at Caribou Highlands Resort in Lutsen Minnesota." Superior Spring Trail Race website

With a course description such as this, how could I NOT register for this race?  Ever since moving to Manitoba, I had heard about the iconic Superior Trail Races.  This spring I figured it was time to check the course out.  Note: somehow a large part of my pre-race rambling has disappeared.  This is likely fate saving you from my long diatribe.  So let's just cut to important stuff:

PC: Amy Broadmoore

Start - Oberg: 7.5 miles
The race started on a very short stretch of road before crossing a footbridge and narrowing to a rocky and technical stretch of single track on which I found myself in a congo line heading up Mystery Mountain. Straight off the start you immediately climb the tallest mountain of the race (just over 200m), immediately drop down into a valley, and then climb Moose Mountain (another 200m) before dropping down even lower.  

PC: One of the race photographers

The mutterings on the trail from other runners thus far revealed that the course was likely "in the best condition it had ever been" this year.  Although there were some muddy sections in the valleys, it wasn't as wet as I had prepared for.  This was a relief because it was definitely technical enough to make up for the lack of mud.  Roots, large rocks, small rocks, and slippery mud all made for some spectacular trail dancing and required a very mindful presence with every step.  Although I was making sure to check my pace and run easy off the start, I still ran quite aggressively in this section and made sure to pass people who were not running my natural pace.  I needed to see that trail in front of me to plan 3-4 steps ahead and following too closely in someone else's footsteps was a sure recipe for tripping or spraining an ankle, especially on the downhill sections where I LOVE running wild and free with feet that react without thought.

PC: Fresh Tracks Media

After the beautiful flowing single track off Moose Mountain there is one more shorter climb before reaching Oberg aid station.  I came up 1/2 mile short at this aid station on the way out but with all the turns to force tangents and forest to hide satellites, I knew that GPS tracking could have a large margin for error in terrain such as we were running.  I ran through this aid station feeling strong and still light on my feet.

Oberg - Sawbill - 5.8 miles

This section was more undulating with more mud, some planked boardwalks over low areas, and still lots of roots to keep you on your toes.  The runners had spread out more on the course by now and I was enjoying running my own pace, focusing on short strides, light steps, and easy breathing.  Although the trees were still mostly waiting to bud out in the cool north shore climate, the forest floor was starting to green up and I caught my first glimpse of ferns this season!  One of my process goals for this race was to "savour the forest," and I made sure to breathe deeply, appreciate the delicate nature of the forest floor, listen to the streams rush by, and glance up as the wind made the trees sway.  The forest is my happy place and I felt I could run forever in this place.  Coming into Sawmill I needed to change out my water bottles, restock fuel from my drop bag, and deal with a nasty hot spot under my left big toe from all the prancing and slipping in the mud.  My sock was fine, no dirt in my shoe - oh well - if I blistered it was only 50K right?  Onward and upward!

PC: One of the race photographers

I should also say that is was near the end of this section that I was already seeing the front runners on their return, with our very own Steven Graupner in a solid 3rd place looking very strong.  He ended up holding onto that podium spot - way to go Steven!

Sawbill  - Turnaround - Sawbill - 4.4 miles
This section was pretty darn technical with a sweet climb up to the summit of Carleton Peak where we turned around and headed back to the Sawbill Aid Station.  During this section we of course started passing more and more people either coming back or still head up the climb.  I hit the half way point at almost exactly 3 hours and I was very pleased as I still felt really good and that is a good pace for me on this type of terrain!  I paused for a moment to take a selfie at the summit and headed back down with views of Lake Superior to the south.  Before very long I found myself back at Sawbill where my husband and kids were waiting for me!  I felt bad that I didn't need to stop at all and was solidly in race mode.  I kissed them all on the cheek, thanked them for coming and headed on out with their shouts of "see you at the finish!"  Their presence meant a lot to me as this was the first ultra that I've ever done in which my family met me at an aid station.  Special moment that was over all too quickly.

The Turnaround - Halfway There!

Sawbill - Oberg - 5.6 miles
Distances in trail ultras are always qualified as being "approximate."  The distances in the Superior 50k were no different.  I actually had more mileage on the return legs of the race than going out, contrary to published race splits.  This is further evidence that GPS tracking error rate is high in the forest even at 1 sec updates.  This was the toughest section for me. After leaving Sawbill and my family, my stomach started to go bad.  I had been drinking quite a bit and my face was super salty even in the cool weather, so I took a few salt tabs which usually helps.  It didn't really.  I had switched to Tailwind instead of water and even at a dilute concentration the sweet liquid made me feel sick.  Although I felt like I was running just as fast as on the way out, getting to Oberg seemed to take FOREVER.  I did spend a lot of time stepping off the trail for runners still headed out to the turnaround which slowed things down, and the trail was getting pretty chewed up with large mud pits forming that were difficult if not impossible to get around quickly.  I was warned I might lose a shoe somewhere along this course, and it almost happened as I stepped into some mud and heard that sucking sound as my heel came right up out of my shoe.  But I managed to keep my trusted Salming T3's on my feet and keep moving.  Despite my best efforts I was slowing down and I pushed to keep moving as efficiently as possible.

At Oberg I forced myself to stop and take stock.  I had barely paused at the aid stations thus far, but this time I grabbed a ginger pill, ate a pretzel and some potato chips, and switched out one of my bottles from TW to water.  Within minutes of leaving that aid station my stomach settled.  Was it the ginger pill?  Pure water?  Not sure, but I was grateful.

Oberg - Finish - 7.5 miles
Two more mountains to cross and the race would be done!  These climbs were no joke and as my legs got heavier it took all my mental energy to stay focused on lifting up my feet and not catching a toe.  I pulled out my phone to turn on my tunes for the final leg only to find it dead.  Hmm.  Not a big deal - I needed to stay fully present and not tune out.  I stumbled many times, but never badly and I never pulled a muscle!  Yay!  I was terrified of another Iron Legs torn hamstring repeat performance and my mantras through the last part of this race were simply "pick up your feet", "run like a deer, and "DON'T FALL."    

 I was literally saying to the photographer at this point: not fair, you can't take a picture of me here!
PC: Fresh Tracks Media

I was pleasantly surprised how well I was handling the hills given that I had had very limited training on hilly terrain thus far this season and more road running than I've EVER had in an ultra training period.  I can thank my coach Sarah Seads at ELM Health for getting me perfectly ready for this race.  My legs were holding up and another one of my process goals was to save my legs for the downhills in this last stretch. I LOVE downhill running and I wanted to run it in strong.  I happily let go and flew (that's what it felt like at least) down the last long perfectly graded section of Mystery Mountain before hitting the road to the finish line.

PC: Jamison Swift

My kids met me just before the finish and we ran it in together in 6:30.  My husband snapped a photo and when I tried to hug them they all told me I had to take a shower.  I couldn't understand why?!  I had only run 50K and only had a little mud on me lol!

Some post race chili, a soak on the hot tub, a swim in the pool, and a good supper with several friends rounded out the day perfectly.  I went to bed smiling - completely satisfied with a happy heart and a contented soul.  I went into this race exhausted from work, stressed, mentally struggling to focus.  In the last hours before I arrived in Minnesota I managed to get my head in the right place.  I needed this race.  I needed to feel great after.  Thank-you Lord...ask and you shall receive.

Post Race Notes

The race organizers and volunteers at the Superior 50K (Rock Steady Running) were simply awesome.  At Sawbill they had my drop bag ready for me.  I had people filling up my water bottles, offering me a chair, shoving my fuel into my pack and zipping me up.  There were photographers all along the course and I have more race photos than I've ever had in a race!  I felt like a rock star and I thank you all!

We stayed onsite at the Caribou Highland Resort and we were so glad we did.  We may have paid a little more, but if you have a family with you, it's worth it.  To have the race start and finish right outside your door next to the pool and kids playground?  Priceless.  The kids enjoyed the pool, hot tub, ping pong table, and we had an awesome fire for roasting marshmallows one evening.

Lake Superior

Caribou Highlands Resort

I'd like to thank Salming Running for supporting me and providing my shoes and clothing for the race.  I can't say enough good about my shoes - this race I chose to wear the T3s - an older model but a shoe that works really well for me.  I had placed the OT Comps in my drop bag incase it was SUPER muddy, but I didn't feel I needed them as the T3s cleaned off quickly and provided enough protection from the roots and rocks so that my feet didn't blister and weren't sore after!  If you want to try a pair of these awesome Swedish shoes, use my code senechal20 for 20% off!

Caribou Falls

Finally, I already feel amazing and am recovering very well!  Two days after the race I felt completely normal with no muscle soreness or pain.  I'm happy that my training seems to be spot on.  Not much down time needed before the next big push!

Next race report: Canadian Death Race!  Yahoo!!!!

On the Frozen Falcon, Winter Running, and the Bliss of Mono-tasking

Recently I did something crazy, at least something I consider crazy.  I ran in the inaugural Frozen Falcon 8 Hour Endurance Run.  My friend Joel dreamed up this looped course race which was held at the Falcon Lake Ski Resort, Manitoba, Canada in early February.

I'm not really fond of looped timed courses and I'm definitely not fond of winter running. This is my third winter of running in Manitoba and I admit that running in temperatures below -25C + windchill still intimidates me.  I entered the FF to prove to myself that I could do a winter ultra, and that I could do it well.  I knew it would be cold, but I was counting on my training experience, a full arsenal of bio/gear hacks, and advice from friends to get me through.

I was not counting on seeing friends post screen shots of "Severe Winter Weather Warnings" the night before the race predicting temperatures up to -32C with -40C wind chill.  At those temperatures, things freeze fast.  Water, gels, skin, wet clothing, eyelashes, electronics, my butt.  It all turns to ice in a matter of minutes.

As I packed my gear I fought off a mild panic attack as I questioned my choice of clothing for the day.  I hadn't even been this stressed out before the Zion 100!  My friend Scott (who had finished the Arrowhead 135 in Minnesota a few days previously) talked me down and made me promise NOT to overdress, NOT to wear a hard shell jacket because it traps moisture, and not to freak out.  To be truthful, I felt rather silly stressing out about an 8 hour run to someone who had just done 135 miles, so I did some meditative breathing, reminded myself that they were only 4 mile loops, and went to bed.  Everything is relative.

The 2 hour drive to the race start the next morning gave me time to focus.  As the sun came up, I noticed that it was shining straight up.  No soft diffused glow, but more like a flashlight beam straight up into the sky.  I had never seen that before.  As I drove out of cell range into the middle of nowhere, the temperature gauge on the truck read -34C.  Nice.  At least if I crashed I had everything I needed to run to the nearest town for help! lol

When I arrived at Falcon Lake I quickly changed into my race clothes at the last minute so they would be as dry as possible, taped my face up with Rock Tape (to avoid frostbite), and joined the huddle of 50 crazy runners waiting to start the race.  The RD Joel announced a few minutes to start and then stood inside the lodge, continuing to count down.  It was so cold that no one wanted to stand still outside at all, so I joked that this would now be known as the only ultra that starts indoors!  With 30 seconds to spare, we ventured outside and started our 8 hour adventure.

Although gaining popularity, ultra running is still very much a fringe sport.  And winter ultra running is even more fringe, as Scott says (although he's part of a crew that runs 135-160 miles in the winter).  With only a few exceptions, I knew everyone out there, including racers and volunteers. What a great community of runners we are!  Never in a million years would I have predicted a fews ago that I'd be running a winter ultra...but there I was!

As I began to run up the ski hill, I reviewed my race strategy.  It was simple.  Drink often to keep my water from freezing and to avoid dehydration.  Change base and mid layers at half way point.  Don't stop.  Don't freeze anything important.

Which leads me to comment on the lost art of mono-tasking.  As a physiotherapist, business owner and mom, I have perfected the art of multitasking over the last few decades.  I have gotten very good at doing many things at once to the point that it has become increasingly hard to focus on just one task.  One of the things that draws me to ultra running (and seeking out that elusive flow state) is that I only have to do one thing.  When I put on my running shoes, all those layers strip away and all I have to do is run.  Sure, I have to drink, eat, monitor the feedback my body is giving me, stay on course.  But running is really the most simple, innately purely human thing one can do.

Winter running takes this to a whole new level.  When it's frigidly cold outside, everyone around you is covered in face masks and 3 layers of clothing.  During the FF, I had no idea who was running around me, and it took too much energy to talk or try to hear through all the layers.  My electronics froze despite being glued to my body, so no listening to music until I thawed them out later on, and if I didn't keep moving, I got very cold very fast. Even stopping to drink, which required unzipping and digging out my insulted water bottle, was something I did as little as possible.  This ended up being every 20 min.

Really, ALL I had to do was keep moving and run.  It was so liberating!  Under my frosty eyelashes, I was in my own little frozen world, and I got so deep into the zone that I found myself getting annoyed when I had to pop into the lodge every loop to check in because it messed up my flow.

All good things must come to an end however, and all the footsteps in the snow over those loops chewed it up pretty good by mid day.  It's crazy to say that I really wasn't cold at all, largely due to the fact that I had to work so hard to run in mashed potato-like snow and climb hills.  The crummy footing wrecked havoc on my hamstring that I thought had recovered fully from an injury last summer.  Guess not.  I decided to pull the pin at 29 miles and save my leg to run another day.

My buddy Darcie - once it warmed up enough for us to remove a few layers!

I have to say that my Salming gear performed extremely well, especially my AMAZING Run Fusion jacket.  It is paper thin and proved itself as nothing short of magic.  I remained bone dry right to my base layer the whole day despite working REALLY hard in some sections and sweating profusely.  Thanks Scott for not letting me wear a hard shell and thanks Salming for dressing me in kick ass Swedish clothing that stands the test of our Canadian winter!

Epilogue

After I finished running and my phone thawed out, I noticed a text from my husband asking me to call home.  He NEVER asks me to call home mid race.  I feared a serious emergency and called as soon as I could.  He simply wanted to make sure I was ok.

STOP.

My husband doesn't worry about me, and that suits me just fine because then I don't have to worry about him worrying about me.  Even when I used to run with the cougars and bears in BC, even during Fat Dog 70 and Zion 100, even when he didn't hear from me for 2 days after Grand Canyon 50 due to lack of cell service --- I would get a motivational text, but never a request to call home.  He trusts me to come home safe and sound, and knows I need to completely disconnect while I'm out on my adventures.

This time he was worried.  Hmm.  Ultra running in southern Manitoba may not have big mountains or scary animals (usually), rocky cliffs or nasty river crossings, but it does have winter.

And winter deserves respect.

Thanks Joel for creating an awesome race where I could (barely) preserve my self respect so close to home!