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!

To Thine Own Self Be True: 2018 Plans

The Christmas decorations are packed up, the kids are back in school, and Training Peaks is sending me notifications.  It's mid January in Winnipeg, and I am solidly back in training mode for my first race of the season.  It's coming up quickly on February 4th, the inaugural  Frozen Falcon 8-Hour Endurance Run.  A timed looped course race in the dead of central Canadian winter would NOT normally interest me in the least.  I have never run that long in potentially dangerously cold temperatures.  The idea of doing such a thing honestly scares the hell out of me - so of course I must do it!

Over the past few weeks as I re-examined and clarified my WHY for running and racing, a few key drivers emerged:

1) To explore

2) To spend time in the mountains

3) To be challenged

4) To honor, maximize, and preserve my health

5) To be a part of my running community

I could list many many more reasons why I run, but these drivers are broad enough to encompass many of them.  Last year took a lot of out me.  I started the year recovering from a stress fracture in my foot.  I ran my first 100 miler in April after which I struggled with mental and adrenal fatigue.  When I finally felt recovered enough to race again in August, I badly tore a hamstring at the top of a mountain early in the race.  Following the best racing year of my life in 2016, last year was a year in which the energy flowed out but rarely in, and my body was showing the signs of the stress.

Last fall I wasn't sure if I wanted to run another 100-miler, but I signed up for Sinister 7 to hold a spot.  The Western States lottery came and went, with the dice not rolling my favour this year.  I honestly wasn't too disappointed, because I know that if I am to do another 100-miler I need to do it very differently and I need time to become a better runner in order to do that.

Late summer and early fall, I struggled with maintaining my training mojo as I rehab'd my hamstring and even after a few months of relatively low mileage and a Mexican beach vacation, I was still not very motivated to run.  Laying in a hammock on the beach on New Year's Eve, I decided that what I really need this year is a rebuilding year.  Racing has never been a big motivation for me, and I realized that I needed to give myself permission to protect my energy, say no to things I don't REALLY want to do, and stay true to my running purpose.  It's so easy to get caught up in the FOMO, and I committed to stay true to myself.

Frozen Falcon 8-Hour Endurance Run - Feb 4

Exploration, Challenge, Community

As aforementioned, this race scares me which means it provides a challenge.  I am very new to running in the hostile winter temperatures of Manitoba (-30 to -40C) and I honestly don't know if I can do it for 8 hours.  A looped course offers the safety of a warm place in case of emergency and the challenge of a temptingly easy place to spend WAY too much time.  Or even quit. My mind will be my biggest foe.

Everyone in our community knows that ultra runners are simply the coolest people around and it's fun to spend time with them!  This is the first ultra-race that my friend Joel is RD'ing in our local community and I just simply couldn't miss it. I've only been to Falcon Lake once, but the area really impressed me.  It's beautiful there, and if there is a place I can see myself running in circles for 8 hours in Manitoba, Falcon Lake is it.

Summertime at Falcon Lake

Superior 50K (lottery entered) - May 19

Exploration, Challenge, Maximize Health

I've never been to Lutsen, Minnesota and I've heard so much about how awesome the Superior races are, so I figured it was time to check the area out.  I may be tempted by the Superior 100 at some point, but I really want to stay healthy and injury free this year so I chose the shorter spring event. I know I can run 50K without injury or prolonged recovery, so it is time to fine tune and get faster at 50K!

Canadian Death Race (125K) - Aug 3-4

Exploration, Mountains, Challenge

This race was the first ultra I had ever heard about, back in 2003.  I seriously could not believe that races like that existed, more less that there were people who ran them.  It has always held some allure for me, and I think this is the year I will become a death racer.  It is also a WS and UTMB qualifier.  Check and check.

Although I am from Alberta, I have never been to Grand Cache, and of course have never travelled 125K over 3 mountain peaks on foot in that location!  I can't wait to explore totally new territory relatively close to home.

Banff/Canmore Self-Guided Training Camp - July

Exploration, Mountains, Challenge, Maximize Health, Community

Sinister 7 is only 4 weeks before CDR which doesn't allow much recovery time.  In addition, I know that if you aren't 110% committed to running a 100-miler then it's over before you even begin.   So I decided to scrap that idea in favour of running for a week with my dear friend Sarah, timing it to peak for CDR.  I started this ultra-running journey with Sarah and every year we travel to a bucket list race.  This year our schedules and goals didn't coordinate for any races, but spending a week running in the mountains with her totally a la carte is even better.

Although Sinister 7 would cover 100 miles of mountain terrain, many hours would be in the dark and in a less than clear mental state in which I would miss much of what I came to see.  Our goal will be to log a 100 mile week with loads of climbing at high altitude, in the daylight with many options for epic summit pictures, the opportunity to explore several different trails in my favourite part of Alberta, all while racking up some serious girlfriend time.  I asked Sarah to officially coach me this year, and I trust her to get my legs and lungs ready for CDR!  (She finished sub 20 hours in 2011 - 7th female, 3rd AG).  Even a coach needs a coach.

I think I'm honestly looking forward to this week more than CDR.

So that's all I have planned.  I think it's enough.  I may throw in some shorter races here and there, but I must remember I am a full time working mom and wife with others who expect and deserve my energy and my best me.

This blog started as a way to share my journey into the world of ultra.  This post is part of that,  largely personal...a way for me to sort and clarify my thoughts and hopefully inspire others as they journey along this path with me.

As you run along the ribbon of single track that leads you from race to race this season, remember your purpose.  Stay true to yourself, and let that energy flow back into you as much as it flows out.

Happy trails!