Well, I think Sue Lucas summed it up best in her last minute comment about the poll:
Hey Gary Sue here, make sure you give that UROY award to Ellie she truly deserves it. I'm just flattered that I was in the running. It seems that my fan club in town here goes overboard once again.
Sue definitely owned the popular vote taking 53% and a shocking 140 personal votes, which is just shy of our total votes cast in the performance of the year poll! That's an impressive and loyal following to say the least Sue!
Ellie lead the way early and I think it's fair to say that based on her 2010 resume she was the 'run away' winner of the Canadian Ultra Runner of the year, for a second year 'running'. (yeah I know, these running puns are just pure genius on my part)
My personal thoughts, since you asked and were dying to know. It's tough to argue against The World 100km Champion and someone who set a Course Record it all but one possible CR event, that being Ellie and her second place finish at the Chuckanut 50km in March. Tracy Garneau had only three races but all were victories, and they were pretty huge events, capped off of course by taking the crown at Western States. Beverly unfortunately had an injury riddled season, otherwise her resume would have stacked up against the best of the best. The biggest surprise to me however was the lack of love towards Monica Scholtz. Not only did she break her own World Record for most 100 mile races in a calendar year, tackling twenty four of them, but she was top two in nearly 50% of her races! Monica won three races, finished second in seven others, and was third once as well. It's as if her resume was just too large to even comprehend and many of these outstanding performances were simply lost in the sea of 100's listed below. I mean consider that Monica ran more miles, 2400, in a total of 24 days than most runners were able to eclipse in the entire year. As they say though, speed wins, and no one on this list is nearly as speedy as Ms. Ellie Greenwood. So congrats to her!
On the men's side Glen Redpath was rightfully voted the Male Canadian UROY, and for the second straight year. He outpaced yours truly by 13 votes and 13%. Glen won the Master's Crown at Western States in June, ripped off one of the fastest 100's in Canadian history in March (14h27m), and set three further course records, at three different distances (50k/100k/100m) in the fall. As I mentioned in a comment on Melcher's blog, Glen just shows up every single time, and at every single distance. The guy is a machine and at 44 years of age he just seems to be getting faster on an annual basis.
Here's how the final women's vote broke down:
Beverly Anderson-Abbs
8 (3%)
Tracy Garneau
16 (6%)
Ellie Greenwood
79 (30%)
Sue Lucas
140 (53%)
Laurie McGrath
1 (0%)
Theresa McGrath
0 (0%)
Denise McHale
1 (0%)
Monica Sholtz
15 (5%)
Votes so far: 260
AND THE MEN'S
Adam Hil
1 (1%)
Chris Downie
1 (1%)
Gary Robbins
36 (36%)
Glen Redpath
49 (49%)
Ryne Melcher
13 (13%)
Votes so far: 100
Thanks to everyone for taking part and keeping it fun. Year two of these polls is now in the books, with Greenwood and Redpath refusing to relinquish their titles. Best of luck to everyone on a fun filled and injury free 2011 running campaign!
Aight, let's get this party started! In what could likely parlay into similar voting for North American UROY, here are the candidates. As before Melcher is hosting the men's vote on his blog.
We will leave these postings up and invite comments to help fill in any blanks up until Sunday afternoon. At approximately 6pm we'll roll out a FOUR DAY POLL for UROY voting. Here are our known results for the top Canadian performers of 2010. Please take a second to review the entire list as it's in alphabetical order and no one should overlook anyone on here.
Beverly Anderson-Abbs
1st Woodside 50km (4h22m)
1st CR Pony Express 50m (6h14m)
2nd Way Too Cool 50km (4h29m)
1st Mad City 50km (3h44m)
Tracy Garneau
1st CR HURT Hawaii 100m (24h06m)
1st American River 50m (6h43m)
1st Western States 100m (19h01m)
Ellie Greenwood
1st CR Frozen Ass 52km (3h48m)
2nd Chuckanut 50km (4h19m)
1st CR/WR Elk-Beaver 100km (7h36m)
1st CR Scorced Sole 50m (7h58m)
1st CR Knee Knacker 30m (5h06m)
1st CR Canadian Death Race 125km (13h28m)
1st CR Run For The Toad 50km (3h37m)
1st World 100km Road Champs (7h29m)
Sue Lucas
22nd World 24hr Champs (197.638km)
4th Fast Trax 100km (10h48m)
1st Lost Soul 100m (28h27m)
1st Beaudry Lemming Loop 12hr (113.635km)
Laurie McGrath
1st Kingston 6hrs (41.02miles)
1st Niagara On The Lake 50km (4h15m)
1st Creemore Vertical Challenge 50km (4h51m)
1st The Limberlost Challenge 50km (6h26m)
1st Haliburton Forest 50m (8h38m)
6th Self Transcendence 24hr (93.611miles)
2nd Run For The Toad 50km (4h37m)
3rd Vulture Bait 50km (4h47m)
Alright, a wee bit delayed on the follow up considering the poll closed a few days back, however a surprise Christmas visit back to Newfoundland took precedence.
AND THE WINNER IS...drum roll please...
Ellie Greenwood for her World 100km Road Championship victory in Gibraltar, taking 33% of the vote
Second place went to Tracy Garneau for her win on the big stage down at Western States. 26%
Third place also went to Ellie for her course record setting performance at The Canadian Death Race. 18%
Beverly Anderson-Abbs claimed 9% for setting the new Canadian 50 mile trail record,
and Tracy's course record win at HURT Hawaii rounded out the top five with 7% of the vote.
My own thoughts? First and foremost, super stoked to have 153 people partake in the vote! That's up about 50% from last year but with so many incredible performances every vote truly did count in this one so it's not completely surprising.
Beyond that it goes without saying, yet I've now said it twice, 2010 was a truly incredible year for Canadian's in the ultra scene, especially the women!
NEXT UP. Starting tomorrow we'll post the candidates for Male and Female Ultra Runner Of The Year, commonly referred to as the UROY. Melcher and I will post our known results for the best in the country and then leave 72 hours for assistance with filling in the blanks. On Sunday evening around 6pm PST we'll launch the polls, this time for four days instead of a full week.
Alright, Happy New Year to all and to all a good night...or something like that...
You can cast your vote by clicking on the right sidebar but please review our Top Ten List as selected below. Poll will run for one week, Sun 19th till Sun 26th (5pm PST)
Men's vote over on Melcher's Blog
Her run was the 3rd fastest ever on the course, men or women, and would be the 2nd fastest women's 50k in Canadian history and would be a Canadian trail 50k record
9) Denise McHale
World 100km Road Championships, Nov 7th Full Results
8th woman, 7h56m
Denise's eighth place finish was also a new Canadian 100km woman's record.
**This is where it gets kinda funny as we list Ellie's result from the same race, however since Denise's time is the Official Canadian 100km record it not only deserves to be included in the list, it also deserves serious consideration in the overall vote**
10) Ellie Greenwood
World 100km Road Championships, Nov 7th Full Results
1st woman, 7h29m
World & European Champion
11) OTHER
It's hard to believe that it was a serious challenge to cut this list down to ten. This has to be one of the best years we've ever seen in the Canadian ultra scene.
If you feel that one of the races dropped from the top ten was the performance of the year, than vote other to let us know. Keep in mind that you're voting on the performance of the year, and not just for your favorite runner, or your favorite race, or for a race you happened to be at when one of these incredible performances took place.
I had a bit of fun with this last year and managed a surprisingly solid response so I decided to roll with it a second time. This year I'm teaming up with Ryne Melcher to do a tandem posting as he'll be hosting the Men's vote over on his blog. (since he likes boys and I like girls)
Well, bar none there were some UNBELIEVABLE performances by Canadian women this year which should make the vote very interesting and very tight. As with last year Ellie Greenwood will be representing The Maple Leaf, even if our own governmental policies prevented her from representing us at The World Championships, as she was intending and hoping to do.
To ensure no one is missed in the voting process we will first roll out our top known performances and ask for feedback on oversights. Our apologies in advance if we miss anything. After this list has been up for three days we'll select our top ten and post it to a vote.
Differing from last year, the only rule is that it had to be an ULTRA distance race.
Following our performance of the year vote we'll post an Ultra Runner Of The Year vote as well, and again we welcome all feedback with these topics. Thanks for checking in, helping out, and eventually taking part in the voting process. There is nothing to be won here other than well deserved recognition for our incredibly talented Canadian contingent.
In chronological order, at least as best I know off the top of my head:
Tracy Garneau
HURT Hawaii 100 Miler, narrowly missing sub 24hr and crushing the previous record held by Krissy Moehl
1st place and Course Record
Beverly Anderson-Abbs
Pony Express 50 Miler, 6h14m is an unofficial Canadian 50 Mile Record smashing old record of 6h26m
1st place Overall and Course Record
Jenn Segger
Rainier to Ruston 50k
1st overall
Beverly Anderson-Abbs
Way Too Cool 50k, one of the most competitive 50k races in the US
2nd place
Beverly Anderson-Abbs
Mad City 50k, 3h44m
1st place Overall and Course Record
Tracy Garneau
American River 50 Miler, one of the most competitive 50 Milers in the US
1st place
Ellie Greenwood
Elk-Beaver 100km, not highly competitive but definitely a certified 100km course
1st place Overall and World 100km Trail Record 7h36m
Sue Lucas
World 24hr Championships
22nd woman, 1st Canadian, 197.7km
Carolyn Goluza
Vancouver 100km, a double running of the insanely technical Knee Knacker route in 17hr flat
1st place and Course Record
Tracy Garneau
Western States 100 Miler, The Grand Daddy of 100 Milers and always super competitive
1st place and first ever Canadian to win WS
Nicola Gildersleeve
Western States 100 Miler
11th woman, rookie 100 mile debut
Ellie Greenwood
Knee Knacker 50k, destroying women's record and nearly catching the lead men
1st place and Course Record
Ellie Greenwood
Canadian Death Race 125km, finishing second only to Hal Koerner, breaking previous Overall CR by 20min
1st place, Course Record, 2nd fastest time ever
Laurie McGrath
Dirty Girls 12hr
1st place Overall, 97.8km
Sue Lucas
Lost Soul 100 Miler, a tough course and apparently tougher weather conditions
1st place, 28h27m
Theresa McGrath
Ottawa Sri Chinmoy 24hr, within striking distance of Canadian record
1st place, 205.6km
Ellie Greenwood
Run For The Toad 50k, 3h37m destroying women's CR and running 3rd fastest overall time ever
1st place Overall
Sue Lucas
Lemming Loop 12hr
1st place Overall, 113.6km
Denise McHale
World 100km Road Championships, Official Canadian 100km record of 7h56m
8th woman
Ellie Greenwood
World 100km Road Championships, World and European Champion
1st place, 7h29m
Tamsin Anstey
North Face 50 Mile Championships
11th woman, billed as most competitive 50 Miler of 2010
There you have all that our combined craniums were able to uncover. Official vote will be posted on Sunday evening. Congrats to all above, it's been an incredible year! Best wishes for everyone to stay healthy and continue representing at the big races in 2011.
Don't forget to click here to check out Melcher's blog and the Men's 2011 results and subsequent poll.
This one was too funny for me not to post, or at least based upon the circumstances that I/we discovered it, there was no way it wasn't being blogged about...
While watching The Oilers lose to The Canucks tonight,
"You'd better watch what you say to me, I'm the World Sand Dune Jumping Champion ya know"
"Oh really"
"Yeah, you can google that shit!"
"Hum, Nothing"
"No, no, ya have to hit up 'IMAGES' to get a valid response!"
And sure enough...
If google says it, than it must be true...WORLD CHAMPION! Just like I always claimed I was! Even if I haven't earned a word of it...
OK, OK, it's Photoshop! BUT, I am doing way better and I have fully come to terms with the next four weeks. It's just another month and as long as the next x-ray at least kinda resembles the above image than I will ideally be back on my feet early in the new year. Till then, I will employ a strategy that I learned to master while residing in Banff, Ab. DRINK PAST IT!
PS: To those who thought the above image made it look like my toes were snapped in half here's the second image they shot. It was just the positioning of my foot that created the above pigeon toed effect.
(Yeah, this is my x-ray from today and not six weeks ago. My toes had been outta the cast for all of ten seconds so they were still frozen sideways)
Maybe I shouldn't be blogging about this just yet, in fact I know I shouldn't because I'm still quite upset and I haven't fully had time to digest everything properly but whatever, here goes, I need a release.
It's been ten hours since I had my cast chopped off, got a follow up x-ray, and was delivered the completely shitty news. I'm still going to be on crutches for at least another month, maybe more. I don't actually know right now and won't know anything for another four weeks. My fiberglass cast has been replaced by a heavier, bulkier, more cumbersome walking boot that I'm not actually allowed to walk in, which has only served to make this whole process that much shittier.
"It's a bad break"
'Yeah I fucking know it's a bad break Doc,'
but I just wasn't prepared for this set back today. I thought my foot was feeling really good lately. It's not even about the running anymore, in fact I could give a shit about running at this point, I just want to be able to walk on my own two feet and still have hands to utilize at the same time. Imagine that! I'm completely fucking sick of how difficult the most menial of tasks have become while on crutches. Laundry, vacuuming, sweeping, showering...this is how I quantify a successful day right now.
Since I basically broke my foot the week after I officially moved into my new apt, I still have boxes that I've been unable to move into storage and I'm still short on furniture because I can't actually buy anything since I can't fucking lift and transport it. I have to organize grocery shopping through a friend. I have the neighbors basically taking care of my dog for me, and worst of all is that I've been unable to work throughout this entire process. I thought today was the day that I could finally start working past all of this. I had been counting down to today for weeks on end, yet low and behold 'that day' is now an unknown imaginary time frame that exists at least a month from here, maybe more, and THAT is why this hurts so much. The complete uncertainty of what I'm even dealing with.
It's like running a fifty mile race, crossing the finish line completely spent and thinking you've won, and then being told,
"Opps, our bad, it's actually 100 mile race...we think? They'll letcha know at the other end. Have fun!"
I went into this thing saying "It's only six weeks. I can handle six weeks, whatever I'll make it work."
Well, here I am six weeks later and with no fucking clue as to when I'm actually going to be able to walk on my own two feet again, let alone run.
Yeah I'll get through it, yeah I'll get over it, yeah I'll eventually be able to laugh about it and I might even call it a beneficial experience one day, but for right now,
OK, I'm gonna blog this out before I change my mind cause it's not exactly easy to rationalize a fairly serious running injury such as a Jones Fracture into something positive, but here goes...
To quickly summarize the issues my body was facing on a semi-regular basis throughout all of 2010 and even some of 2009
Fatigue / Over training Testing showed a strained adrenal system and low vitals
Right Achilles Flaring regularly and sometimes preventing me from walking without a limp
Right Ankle Significant enough to force me to get an MRI which revealed lingering long term damage that had been aggravated through heavy mileage
Right Foot In the EXACT area that I broke my foot I had done so once before, albeit almost two decades ago. However, for many years now everything from ski boots to cycling shoes seemed to aggravate the area and I had been wondering for upwards of six months if I had a hairline fracture in my foot as it was.
Left Hip The most significant of the injuries and not so much in terms of the overall severity to my body, but more so because it was the one injury that actually forced me to stop running. After completing the East Coast Trail I was unable to run for more than 15-20min without my left side shutting down on me. In the two months following the ECT the longest run I could muster was just over an hour and I ended up regretting it for days afterwards as it only set back my recovery time.
SOOOOO, if you look at the overall picture of a slightly broken body what might be the ONE injury that could potentially force all of these issues to simultaneously recover? The answer of course is a broken foot, and only on the right side. A broken leg would be a far more serious injury to rehab from, and anything on the left side would have only exacerbated the nice list up above. As it stands right now my entire right ankle structure has been frozen in place for six straight weeks, I've been forced into a lengthy break in which I have most certainly rested and recovered from all of my fatigue symptoms, AND my left hip has been thrown into a full on daily workout that has only served to strengthen the area and force the glute med and glute max to finally fire properly.
Now I'm not about to suggest that this has been easy or enjoyable for even five minutes, but they say, and I believe, that everything really does happen for a reason. I'll be the first to admit that it is rare to appreciate or understand those reasons in the moment and this may be true here as well, however that hasn't stopped me from trying to piece it all together. Whether this makes any true sense or not, it has allowed me to sleep better and relax a bit more. In five short days the actual truth will be revealed as this cast comes off and a subsequent x-ray tells the full story of what's transpired in my foot over the last six weeks. Assuming I get good news, and I really am feeling like I will at this point, then ideally this can only ever be viewed as a minor initial setback and maybe even something beneficial in the long term.
While recently attending the Montrail / Mountain Hardwear Fall Sales Conference an athlete inspired video debuted under the name "Hard By Choice." I missed the first thirty seconds or so but as soon as I realized what we were watching, I recorded it in high def on my handheld. I think it came out alright and I was then surprised to see that I'd 'made the cut' and even got a few quotes in there myself.
One of the highlights of the week for me was meeting Ueli Steck, 'The Swiss Machine'. He had a pretty inspiring presentation that left just about everyone with their jaws hanging on the floor. His next grand vision is to start trying to lay down insane speed records upon the 8,000 meter peaks. Here's a video that chronicles some of his recent accomplishments and gives insight into what he's all about. Enjoy.
Yes this will be a sponsor shout out and some will view it as a 'commercial', but honestly I just LOVE new gear, especially when it's DRASTICALLY IMPROVED GEAR! I'm still blind from staring directly into the light to see just how bright it is...yeah, I'm that smart. Forgive any spelling mistakes as I'm seeing spots right now!
Short but sweet, Princeton Tec just released their brand new 200 Lumen APEX light. If you already know the Apex, yes you just read that right, it's almost twice as bright as the previous version! AND it won't cost a dime more than the first version, and they say that the battery life is not compromised whatsoever. (I will be testing this myself once I cut this damn plaster off of my leg).
I've talked up the original Apex in the past and have even given a few of em away on here...if I'm really nice to the boys down at Princeton Tec lights, who knows, maybe we'll be able to have a draw for the new light in the not so distant future!
The PUSH. New from PT is a 100 lumen ready to rock bike mount light. By 'ready to rock' I mean it's all pre-assembled in the box and you simply turn one screw onto your handlebars and you're good to go. Here's where I feel that the light really distinguishes itself though, it doubles as a handheld flashlight, it weighs next to nothing, it runs on just three AAA batteries, AND it has built in red flashers on the side of the light to ensure you'll be seen in all directions. Now that's a well thought out piece of brightness!
The BYTE. Also new and super light at just 64 grams. 35 lumens, two AA batteries, high beam, low beam, red beam, and all for under twenty bucks!
There, I'm done! All geeked out and loving my new toys...now if only these spots I'm seeing would fade away. Must stop staring directly into lights dammit...
and I had covered over 100 miles of ground for the first time in my life. The sun had risen on my second day only to reveal terrain that was completely overgrown and impossible to run. Navigation was not an issue, but I was down to a bushwhack hike of about 4km an hour. I was wearing running shorts and my primary thought, outside of reaffirming every curse word I'd ever learned before, was that I only wished I had enough foresight to pack a pair of running tights. Every step through the harsh overgrown Newfoundland brush was like grinding on a heavy grit sandpaper, and I truly wanted my legs to bleed more than they actually were so that I would at least have visual justification for all the frustrations I was dealing with.
To add to the anguish I was suffering through I had under budgeted my food and fluids for this section and I had completely run dry hours earlier. My left hip, which had been an on and off issue for months on end had started flaring up after just the first hour and a half of my journey and since then had gone completely numb. As painful as it was it had not spiked in pain in hours and I felt like the worst of that issue might be behind me. Over the years experience had taught me that if you ignore your own body's sensory perceptions they will eventually start to questions their own sanity. Which is of course directly in line with the conversation you will inevitably have with yourself at some point as well.
"Listen I've been telling him for hours that he's all messed up but he just ain't hearing it."
"Really? You sure we're right about sending out those pain signals?"
"I dunno. I just do what what comes naturally but if the big boss man is telling me to shut up I guess I might as well listen to him. He can deal with the consequences himself later."
Truth be told, had I registered for any race on that same weekend I would have pulled the plug, DNS (did not start) without question or any feeling of remorse whatsoever. Since early summer I felt like I was just hanging on. I managed a successful Western States in June yet I still had two major pursuits on the schedule that I'd made very public in March. There was a fundraising campaign for Right To Play that was gaining momentum and I had somehow been able to fight my way to a slightly better West Coast Trail time than ever before, just two weeks prior. Though three quarters of the way through that West Coast Trail attempt I found my mind on the opposite side of the country, in Newfoundland. I was wondering how in the hell I was going to pull off a 215km run just fourteen days after running the 75km WCT. Those thoughts lasted all of a few minutes before I realized I had to be present in that moment in BC before shifting my sights towards the next run in Nfld.
The weeks between runs had evaporated and I now found myself in a whole other world of hurt. I had once covered 200km in a weeks worth of training and it completely shattered me. I had never attempted a distance greater than 160km in one go, and I had never had the 'good fortune' to run into a second sunrise before. This was all new terrain for me, and none of it was going according to plan.
Ray Zahab had been kind enough to send me fourteen maps that made up the entire route, and in hindsight these maps were integral to our success as a family. Though the terrain had now slightly eased, at least in terms of the overgrowth, I found it impossible to run more than a few steps at a time. I would guilt myself into a trot of about a minute before my body would shut down on me. I continually repeated this process like a scratched LP stuck in a record player. Over, and over, and over again. Try, fail, walk, try, fail, walk, try, fail, walk.
I knew the direction I wanted to travel and I couldn't help but notice that I was getting farther away from my next town and what would end up being my saving grace of seeing my family and their rolling support vehicle again. It was already four hours beyond my predicted arrival time and though the sun was now shining bright upon a beautiful Sept day I was being bombarded by coastal winds that would leave my face wind burned by the end of it all. I pulled out my maps, careful not to let them get caught in the breeze, and I confirmed that I was indeed still on course. It just happened to be the long way round to my next intersection. It was blatantly evident why the trail meandored out to sea and not towards the safe haven community of Petty Harbor. The scenery was endless and this trail was designed to take in all the fantastic sights and sounds that help make the route such a rare gem. I however, no longer gave a shit about the sights, sounds, and vantage points, and in fact I was actually starting to loath all of it. My two cameras felt like dead weights that I had to carry to document the damn trek and I was sick of feeling the need to stop and capture beauty on film.
I glanced into the distance and could just make out what appeared to be the end of the inlet I had yet to turn towards. My next 'aid station' was all too far off and I very literally had thoughts of just laying down and shedding a few tears. I was a defeated man, completely deflated and devoid of motivation to continue onwards. I had always wanted to find my breaking point through my endurance pursuits and I was now being confronted by something I had never truly dealt with on such a low level before. I wanted to quit. I just didn't care anymore, about anything. Knowing that quitting simply was not an option was all that kept me moving, one step at a time. Then it happened, I started to hallucinate.
As I crested a small knoll I thought I could see my brother off in the distance. Part of the beauty of The ECT is the solitude of the experience, and after covering nearly 185km, and being on my feet for over 29 hours I'd seen but two other people. One was camping in the night as I ran past, and the other was enjoying breakfast (while I still had food and fluids) many hours earlier, and nearly fifty kilometers away from the first hiker.
I blinked a few times to get a grip on myself and when I rubbed my eyes open I could not believe what I was seeing. My brother Bryan had hiked in 4km to find me and he had huge smile on his face and simply extended a handful of tinfoil towards me,
"I thought you could use some breakfast."
I found those tears I fought back just minutes earlier now starting to form by means of sheer amazement and excitement. I felt like he'd saved my life, and more importantly, my run...and for the second time in the last twelve hours no less.
East Coast Trail 215km
The first twenty nine hours of the run had itself brought many a high and low, and much in the way of mental anguish and doubt, but all in all my Father's rough time estimates were proving to be incredibly accurate.
The biggest issue that I simply had not prepared for was that of being completely wet for nearly the entire effort. Though we did not really get rained on too badly at any point, it did rain fairly hard the previous night and with so many overgrown sections of trail I rarely went more than a few minutes after changing into dry clothes without getting soaked again. In fact in the first 24hr my feet were dry for fewer than two of those hours. At one point my Brother even utilized a laundry mat in a small town we crossed through to 'refresh' my clothes for me and it took him nearly an hour to remove all the moisture from everything
I was also not expecting The East Coast Trail to have so many steep climbs in it. This may sound foolish to say, but it is a coastal route and there are no mountains in the region. This did not stop my GPS from recording almost 20,000 feet of climbing, and that's after the data corrections have been applied to the file. I'm always weary of inflated elevation data from a GPS watch, but I'll confidently say there was over 15,000 feet of climbing for sure.
I had expected and was prepared for the mud upon the trail to be worse than it actually was. This is not to suggest that the terrain was not atrocious because it most certainly was. Mentally though I had told myself I'd swim through quicksand like bogs and ford surging rivers if I had to. Instead I simply felt like a child on hockey skates for the first time in my life. There were hours upon hours that passed where every singular step I took was a fight to stay upright. I had my fair share of tumbles with the worst landing me elbow deep in a mud bath that smelled like a barn yard. I unleashed my anger and frustrations into the universe only to be on my ass again not a minute later.
The trail was turning out to be a lesson in humility. It was not the clear shot run that I had dreamed of and I felt more like a speed hiker than an actual runner at times, yet the goals of both are always the same. Relentless Forward Motion. One step at a time, baby steps if the trail demanded, and all the way from Cappyhaden to St. John's. There would be no stopping until I reached my home, my true home, the city in which I was born 33 years earlier.
The number one concern I had going into the speed attempt was based around my hip injury. It had been bothering me for months and even on the nine hour flight across Canada I would have to continually walk around and stretch off the impending numbing of the area.
I took my first steps upon the trail at 6:15am on Friday August 20th, and by 7:45am that same morning I was locked into a war of wills against my own body.
"This really hurts"
"No it doesn't"
"Umm, yeah, it totally hurts right now"
"Like no it doesn't!"
"Like yeah! It totally does like, really, like, freaking hurt...like"
Yes, I have the internal dialogue of thirteen year old kid.
"Alright fine, it hurts, but you knew it was gonna hurt coming into this thing so how bout a little suck it up princess"
"But I still have over two hundred kilometers left to go...."
"SUCK..."
"I just started this thing. There's no way I can ignore this much this early...."
"IT..."
"I'm ninety minutes into what will likely be a 36hr run..."
"UP ALREADY!"
"I hate you"
"I know"
"I'm not talking to you"
"Good"
"You'll pay for this!"
"I'm ok with that"
The first 100km of the trail took around thirteen hours to complete, and I fully recall hours seven, nine, and eleven being the most painful to accept. At the eleventh hour, and around 80km, my body screamed at me louder than it had all day long,
"SERIOUSLY ROBBINS WHAT THE F?"
It was a brutal sixty minutes in which I stopped a few times to try to stretch out the pain, but to no avail. I noticed my stride was being compromised in an attempt to alleviate the issues, but again this wasn't making things any easier. I had my first true doubts about my ability to endure, and the mental math nearly debilitated me.
"Eleven hours, eighty kilometers in. Still 135 kilometers to go. Still at least a full day of running left to get me through this thing. I still have twenty four full hours to go...how, just how is all I'm asking you?"
"Honestly I don't know ok. I just don't know. I'm sure you'll figure something out, and besides when you see your family again I know you're going to come around, so deal with it."
That eleventh to twelfth hour on the trail was the most painful I've ever experienced from that specific injury, or any other injury for that matter. By the time I'd hit 90km mark though, it was as if the pain sensors had hit a steady state and simply started cancelling each other out. The hip would no longer make it to the top of my 'reasons to quit list' upon the run. I'd won a small battle, one of many that were waged along the way.
As the kilometers rolled by we got into a pretty smooth rhythm as a family. My Father (Fred), Mother (Gerri), Brother (Bryan), Niece (Kayla), and Brother's Girlfriend (Heather) were all along for the ride, in the form of two rolling support vehicles. The East Coast Trail has fairly regular intersections with small coastal communities and on average you spend about four kilometers running roads through small towns for every twenty or so kilometers you cover upon completely isolated trail.
These communities became our intersection points and my family would continually leap frog me throughout the entire process, always awaiting my arrival into each town. Every few hours I'd pop outta the trail to big smiles, hugs, cheers, and a rolling buffet. From time to time family members would hop outta the car and run with me to the next trail head, or until we hit the first wee bump in the landscape that created a bit of a climb. These moments were pure magic for me. Completely spontaneous and fueled by love. I felt no pain when I was with them and without my family the run would have been completely impossible on so many levels. They had even gone as far as to make signs that they hung on the car while they drove between towns.
In one community a rather large gentleman started chasing me down the road. Survival instincts kicked in and all I could think was,
"How in the hell am I gonna out run this guy right now!?"
Then I noticed he was waving money at me. He was donating to Right To Play!! When I stopped to accept his generosity he just looked at me and said,
"Get going already! Don't stop for us!"
How could you not be moved by something like this. How could you possibly not finish what you'd started. How could you not draw energy reserves from this the likes of which you didn't even know you previously possessed. I felt like I floated on air for an hour after this encounter, feeling no pain whatsoever. Such a simple human interaction, yet so powerful at its core.
Gettin Ruffed Up
As nightfall was approaching, and we were running through yet another small town, my brother hopped out of the car to join me while the rest of the family drove on ahead to find the next trail re-entrance sign. It was to be a ten minute jaunt at most. A 'hey howya doing, keep digging, you're doing great' pep talk run.
We were just passing the second to last home in the community of Brigus South when out of nowhere an overweight Golden Lab came screaming out of a driveway at us. It was brandishing its teeth and left no doubt as to its intentions. The dog gave chase, but unlike every other scary dog encounter I'd ever experienced this beast meant business. He was on our heels in no time and as we turned to face him he leapt up and grabbed my Brother by the leg! The owner was now sprinting down the road after all of us which eventually turned into the three humans yelling at the one dog until he finally cowered behind his master. Bryan was obviously now pumping with adrenaline and for a second I thought I was going to have to prevent him from biting the owner of the dog himself. After a brief screaming match and a multitude of apologies from the dog's owner we were on our way again, my Brother now hobbling a bit from the impact of the bite, which turned out to leave a mark but not break the skin. He'd eventually walk it off but I'm not convinced I could have fended off the dog on my own at that point. We were laughing about it by the time we caught up with my family again.
The funniest thing I witnessed during the run was about six hours later at 2am. As I came off of another section of trail and into the community of Witless Bay we awoke another angry mutt and up he got and at me he came. My Dad immediately positioned the car between the dog and I, as I watched in shock as my Mother threw open her car door and started positioning herself to defend her first born at all costs.
"I woulda tackled that dog if he'd come at ya ya know!"
"Oh I know you would have Mom, you left no doubt with me or the dog that he didn't stand a chance of getting past you!"
Once the adrenaline from that scare wore off I found that I was completely and utterly drained. Physically and mentally I just needed a break. At 2:30am, after covering approximately 135km in twenty hours of running, I simply came towards my parents car, now set up at the trail head ahead of me as an aid station, and said,
"I need a nap"
They were so focused on the task at hand and our end goal that no one even processed what I'd said. They were straight into filling bottles, offering up clothes, and changing headlamp batteries.
"I need a nap"
"What?"
"A nap. I'm done. Someone wake me in fifteen minutes please." I then looked at them with a serious expression which was to convey that though we all knew I needed more sleep that this, they were not allowed to let me go beyond fifteen minutes.
Ten seconds later they placed a blanket over me in the back seat of the car. I didn't anticipate needing a nap for the run, but having flown clear across the country and into a four and a half hour time change on Wednesday, arriving in Nfld at midnight, shopping for supplies on Thursday before driving the two hours to our starting point, and only getting five hours of sleep the night before the run began on Friday morning, I just had nothing left. I've done numerous 36hr adventure races and without fail a 15-20 minute nap had always gotten us through.
Nineteen minutes later, after my parents had let me 'sleep in', I was back on my feet. It was a lot like peeling myself out of a self constructed coffin. I didn't really know my name for a few seconds before grabbing my gear and hitting the trail again. Ten minutes later as my mind finally joined my body I found my legs moving better than they had in hours. The power nap had worked wonders. I now just had to make it till sunrise and my body's natural circadian rhythms would take care of the rest.
For the most part this strategy worked well. The sun rose a few hours later, right on time even, and I was awake. But the trail had thrown us for a loop and our time guesstimates for the longest non intersecting section of trail, 32km, proved grossly under estimated. It took a full seven and half hours to clear this section, yet I had carried sustenance for three and a half hours. If my brother had not unexpectedly shown up with the food and water I'd probably still be out there waiting for someone to drag my ass back to civilization.
My savior Brother had lifted my spirits and ripped me from the dead when he showed up with that tinfoil breakfast and two full water bottles. He started running to pace me, asking if he should go faster. I hadn't actually run for the better part of four hours and the fear of loosing him was all that propelled me along,
"No, this is good! No need to go any faster Bryan!"
He helped haul my ass back to my family, still four kilometers away, and upon seeing them a funny thing happened. Their smiles, cheers, hugs, and laughter seemed to caress through my body like pure energy, with it removing every singular bit of doubt, fatigue, and exhaustion that I still carried with me. I knew I'd overcome the worst the trail could throw at me. The worst my mind could throw at me. The worst my body could throw at me. I knew I was going to beat this thing. I knew WE, as a family, were going to succeed. It was noon on my second day of running, the sun was shining bright though it had forecast heavy rain, and I had but thirty kilometers of trail standing in my way. Thirty kilometers between me, beer, and sleep.
Those final thirty kilometers of the run were a bit of a blur,
not because I can't remember them now, but because I was fried and just going through the motions. I very literally had an hour of full on hallucinations, with everything from ski resort chair lifts, to road construction signs in the middle of the ocean and I was almost enjoying the distractions to be honest.
As I hit Cape Spear, The Most Easterly Point In North America, I was finally in my own backyard. I was on familiar ground, playing in my home rink, and that familiarity picked me up as much as the inevitability of completing the task at hand.
My parents called the local news network and gave them a finishing time of 5:30pm. I glanced at my watch and I thought I could do better, but like every good ultra runner I had completely forgotten just how tough the final section of the trail actually was, it being the only real part I had any previous experience upon.
As those final kilometers started to tick away I realized I was really going to have to dig deep to finish by 5:30 so I told myself I was going to leave it all out there.
"No use holding back now Gary, let's see what ya got in there?"
I effectively destroyed the final 15km of my 215km run along the coast. It was very near the strongest I had run at any point on the entire trail in the day and a half that I was out there. The climbs in this final section are long and steep, with technical footing, and rarely an easy or flat step. I ran the entire section minus the one obscene and endless scramble/climb in the middle of it all. I think I would be hard pressed to run all of this terrain on completely fresh legs. I have no idea exactly how this all worked, whether it was adrenaline, the need to be done, simply a newfound focus and motivation, or maybe a bit of all of the above. Either way I felt like a runner for the first time all day and I ended up finishing just two minutes behind my Dad's perfect guesstimate, at 5:32pm on Saturday August 21st.
A news crew, family members, and even some high school friends had turned up to welcome me home. I'd made it. Thirty five hours and seventeen minutes to complete two hundred and fifteen kilometers of incredibly challenging terrain. But beyond that, I'd had conquered doubts the likes of which I'd never experienced before, pain the likes of which I hope I never have to deal with again, and nutrient deficiencies that I will never subject myself to in a racing environment. After all of this I still managed to persevere. I came out on top, I didn't say uncle, I didn't listen to the quit now demons in my head, and I continually fought past all obstacles that were presented to me on the day.
In life it is rare that you will feel 100% prepared when faced with a new challenge, but you can ALWAYS give 100% of what you have in you on that day, and more often than not, that's plenty good enough to get you through
Way back in March when I decided to propose this project dubbed 'Conquer The Coasts' I really had no idea what to expect or exactly how I intended to pull it all off. Sitting here now in November I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to say that I achieved all I'd set out to over nine months ago.
Thank you to everyone for their continual support and kind donations towards Right To Play. None of this would have been possible without you.
Special Thanks
My Family. Every single one of them were integral towards the success of this project, right down to my beautiful niece Kayla who took care of all of the twitter updates and found most of the nearly impossible to locate trail heads during the night.
Trevor Richmond. I don't know how I would have afforded to pull this all together without your assistance with flights. Your generosity is unmatched and I knew there was a reason I still talked to you after all these years!
Erik Nachtrieb. For offering to take all my raw solo shot footage and to make it into something worth actually watching!
David Papineau. That fantastic logo is compliments of Mr. Broadway Run Club, thank you!
Ray Zahab. Ray was more excited than anyone about my proposed runs this year and he provided me with plenty of insight about The East Coast Trail and the aforementioned invaluable maps
North Shore Athletics. Any other employer woulda fired my ass long ago, yet somehow you still keep me on payroll. Thanks for approving the time off necessary to pursue these things.
Drymax Socks. Of course all sponsors deserver their props but Drymax deserve their special mention here. I have run 4x100 mile races, and in each of them I have battled significant foot blistering over the final 20miles/30kms. I have never run more than a dozen hours without some sort of foot issue. I've learned to accept it and thought it was just a part of the game. Then Bob from Drymax spots me some socks, telling me they're bound to help. 'Yeah Right'. A sock is a sock is a sock. I'd tried no fewer than a dozen kinds so how is yours gonna be any different?
I NEVER GOT A SINGLE BLISTER ON MY FEET! MY FEET WERE SOAKING WET FOR OVER 2/3 OF THE 35HR RUN!
Even my Father, having seen me at WS 09 was completely speechless. These socks are the best. PERIOD!
10) Complimentary and mandatory airport pat down service. Since you can't actually hop through the x-ray machine they take you aside and rub you up and down...most action I've had in months!
9) Half Price Massage.
"Your right leg, it's so firm and toned!"
"That's a cast"
"Ohhh...half price for you"
(Only 25% off for you buddy)
8) I always have two sticks handy that resemble ski poles, which is to say I can always pull off the 'skiers leaning on their ski poles look'. Totally rad to drop this at a bus shelter.
"WHOA is that dude like skiing right now? Oh...he's on crutches. He must have totally broken his leg while hucking a sick cliff. That's totally f-n rad!"
(This SCREAMS 'I am cool', and I rock this move like nobodies business)
7) I can, at any point in time, at any hour, minute or second throughout the day, break out into a random tap dance routine with my cast. Michael Flatley lookout...
"Yeah I'm badass. I'm wearing spandex pants, a circus jacket, and I'm blowing flames out of my ass right now"
6) Two Words: KILLER LATS
Two More: Nice Shorts! (where can I get a pair of those for my next ultra)
5) You can look twice as drunk on half the alcohol
"How many drinks you had son?"
"Ummm, one"
"Oh HAHA, you're on crutches, can I buy ya another?"
4) By the end of this six weeks I can virtually guarantee that I will NEVER get armpit chafing from simply running again. Can you say Monkey Butt Armpits
That's just gross...is that even real??
3) I'm totally getting rich once I patent this thing
(Every time I hit up a coffee shop I get mad props!)
2) At least five times a day, I break out into random air guitar moves
(At least twice a day I find myself wearing this hot outfit)
1) During laundry days I actually taunt my socks
"Hey ya little bastards, ya wanna make a break for it today? GO FOR IT! I don't need you, I've never needed you, there's too many of you to go around. I don't even know what to do with all of you right now. I'm giving you all five days. If half a dozen of you aren't gone by Friday I'm starting in on the natural selection process"
"Screw you and you're 5th metatarsal, I'm heading to Mexico!"
I just got back from my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon and to make a long story short the decision to operate or not has been left up to me. Being the fortunate Canadian that I am there would be no financial aspect to deal with, which just makes this decision that much harder to process.
I was told straight up to not get my hopes up about running for at least 12+ weeks...doesn't he know I have a 100 Mile race to defend in January! Either way I'm going to Hawaii, but it's looking more and more like I'll be a spectator/volunteer this time around.
The pros and cons of both options were fed to me and without going into full details here are the relevant points that struck home.
Surgery
-Potential to heal quicker and stronger
-Potential for numerous things to go wrong during surgery, including shattering the bone in which case I'd never run again
Non-Surgery
-Most likely longer to heal
-Potential to heal incorrectly and need surgery anyways in six to eight weeks
-No chance of messing things up any further, simply have to hope for the best during next six weeks
On top of this my own intuition was screaming at me throughout the entire process NOT to agree to the surgery on the spot. My long drive home, followed by a few phone calls from friends who have gone through similar has since solidified my decision to let this thing heal naturally.
If all goes well I'll be off for a few months but none the worse for wear on the other side of this. There are simply too many potential complications that can arise from surgery, as I saw first hand through my ex's post surgery staph infection earlier this year. Worst case scenario is that I am forced into surgery two months from now, verses worst case surgery scenario is that I never run again...seems like a damn easy decision to make when it gets put down like that.
Thankfully I have a waterproof cast, so it's off to the pool for me starting tomorrow! Oh yeah, and I've modified my crutches so that I don't have to compromise my coffee habit...
SO, while googling the web for a photo that resembled my own x-ray from a few days ago I came across this blog posting from Reid Coolsaet. Reid is one of Canada's top distance runners, having just laid down a 2h11m marathon in Toronto a few weeks back. I remember he dealt with a serious injury a few years ago but I didn't realize until just now that it was a broken foot. A 'Jones Fracture' of the 5th metatarsal to be precise...on his right foot...at the beginning of November. His story is revealing as to what I'm dealing with and has hammered home just how long this is going to affect my running. I have had a brief email exchange with him and he did relay that the foot is stronger than ever. I guess this will be a life lesson in patience.
So how did it happen?
Max King tripped me as I attempted to pass him and followed that up by throwing rocks at me until he succeeded in breaking a bone in my foot. The whole time he was just screaming at the top of his lungs,
"NO ONE PASSES ME ROBBINS, NO ONE PASSES MAX KING, NO ONE PASSES MR. KING, NO ONE PASSES MEEEEE!"
He is nowhere near as nice and funny as everyone seems to believe he is. Max is a ruthless competitor and he simply has to be stopped sooner or later. Geoff Roes barely escaped with his life under similar circumstances just minutes later! (sorry Max, I had to do it)
OK, Max is actually a really cool guy and had absolutely nothing to do with my own inability to navigate a few fresh centimeters of snow covered rocks.
Max, Geoff Roes, and myself headed out for a quick trail run of about an hour. We were all in Sunriver Oregon as part of the Montrail - Mountain Hardwear fall sales conference. All I will say about what I've seen here this week is that the technologies this company is about to roll out over the next few months are going to completely revolutionize the outdoor industry, period! It is an amazing and exciting time for this brand and everyone involved knows that we're sitting on something huge right now. I can't wait to see this stuff hit the market and to start talking about it in more detail.
The Run. It was completely insignificant, an easy hour on trails, an out and back route, and on the least technical terrain you could possibly imagine. I had run the same route solo the day prior. We had a light dusting of snow overnight and as we began our run I obviously let Max and Geoff lead the way. About 1km into our proposed 11km return run I believe my exact words were,
"There's literally four rocks on this entire trail"
Not three hundred meters later my right foot slid off the side of one of those four, now snow covered rocks, and the full weight of my body crumpled my forefoot onto itself. I was pretty sure I felt a snap in there yet for some reason I never made a peep. Had I been out on my own I surely would have screamed, thrown my water bottle at a tree, and taken a few minutes to process what had just occurred. Instead I now found myself a few strides behind Max and Geoff and in complete denial at what I'd just managed to do to my foot. I sped back up and simply told myself I'd run it off.
The conversation was consistent from the start but I now grew silent as I was internalizing the pain and trying to will my injury away. Every step hurt more than the last and the stabbing sensation radiated up the side of my leg as high as my knee. About one step every ten would hurt just slightly less than the rest and I focused on these strides and told myself that I was succeeding in running it off.
I was able to do this for about three kilometers before we stopped at our turnaround point of Benam Falls.
Max to us,
"You guys wanna go a bit further before turning back?"
Me to Max and Geoff,
"Uhhh. Uhhh, no I think I may have messed up my foot. I think I'll just start back out now and you guys can catch up with me shortly."
Max and Geoff kinda looked at each other and both commented that they didn't hear a noise from me at any point to suggest that I'd hurt myself. I was sure they were both thinking I was looking for a way out of the run for some reason but they simply smiled, asked if I was alright, and headed off down the trail again.
I started walking out while holding tight to the ever fading belief that I would still be able to will the pain away. My shoe was growing tighter around my foot by the minute and after walking about a kilometer of trail I found myself in a parking area. I had at least admitted to myself by this point that I wasn't going to make it much further under my own steam, so I finally removed my shoe and stuck my swollen purple foot into a pile of snow.
Max and Geoff showed up a few minutes later and we all agreed they'd run back to the car and swing around to grab me. We had a fun backcountry rally car style drive back to the main hotel and I promptly put my foot on ice.
A few hours later I was amazed by how good my foot felt so I decided it was in fact not broken and I went about our normal business for the evening. There was an athlete presentation in front of the entire conference of a few hundred people and I was lucky enough to be one of those chosen to speak on stage. I limped out, thankfully was able to get a few laughs, and limped back. We then enjoyed dinner and drinks before calling it a night.
When the alarm sounded at 7am the next morning all of my tightly guarded self-told lies came crashing down around me all at once. I physically could not get out of my bed. No matter how hard I tried to contort my body the stabbing pain in my foot would inevitably set me prone and grasping my pillow like a child. After a half a dozen attempts I finally I succeeded in swinging my legs over the side. I was then forced to ask Geoff to fill an ice bucket for me so I could numb my foot in order to make it to the bathroom before time expired on my bladder.
I was off to the hospital to confirm the inevitable. A 'Jones Fracture' of my fifth metatarsal, with surgery potentially being the best option for a full recovery. I have an appointment this coming Tuesday to review the x-rays with a surgeon back in Canada to determine our next step...while I struggle to come to terms with the reality that my next step, with my right foot, is still a few months away.
It's been an absolute whirlwind return from the wilds of Northern Quebec just twelve short days ago...wow it's been almost two weeks already, and we're sitting on the cusp of November. As they say, time flies when you're having fun I guess.
After my five week work excursion I kinda felt like a prisoner set free again. The project was incredibly tough but also surprisingly refreshing and if nothing else it gave me a necessary reminder of just how amazing my home town/turf really is. The balance of life that can be achieved in North Vancouver / Vancouver is rarely rivaled around the globe, and because of this it was completely impossible for me to say NO to anything that came my way in the last few weeks. It's been a fantastic twelve days of catching up with friends and truly savoring all that Vancouver has to offer.
(The beard lasted ten full days before I finally caved in and removed it)
Thankfully my running injury seems to be in check, mostly due to the expertise of Jenn Turner and her Moveo sport rehab centre. I have been continually shocked and amazed at how good I've been feeling on my feet and due to this I have knocked down a few sizeable mountain runs. The highlight being Black Tusk, up near Whistler, which I tackled with my Montrail teammate Ryne Melcher. From the parking lot to the summit is a six thousand foot climb and outside of some mandatory photo stops the run up was just a hair over two hours. After nearly an hour on top taking it all in, the six thousand foot descent took us just a few minutes over an hour, which included some nice calf cramping as my body attempted to keep up with my excitement level. Full Album.
Other highlights included a sushi binge of eight meals in seven days, more beer consumption than the last three months combined, finally reconnecting with numerous friends I hadn't seen in months, and checking out a cool concert at a funky little venue, The Acorn at The Biltmore.
As I type this I am sitting in the Seattle airport about to connect to Oregon for the annual Montrail - Mountain Hardwear International Sales Conference. Flattered to be invited is the easiest way to sum it up. Five days of gear talk and trail runs in Oregon sounds like a pretty sweet week to me, though I am really looking forward to finally getting back into a routine again soon and fully focusing on training for HURT Hawaii in January.
Outta the wilds of Northern Quebec and back in the land where sushi roams free and americano's cost almost as much as the gasoline at the pumps. There is another blog posting to be had here, in fact many more, BUT when I arrived home on Wednesday evening I had a brand new Montrail 2011 shoe to demo. Here's a video of my take on the yet to be released 2011 Rogue Racer racing flats...
My buddy Erik Nachtrieb who owns 1iopenproductions.com recently took on the project of editing down my self shot footage from my West Coast Trail and East Coast Trail speed attempts. He just finished up the final version of my WCT recap and will start in soon upon the ECT version.
Here's the final cut, found under 'You Shoot, We Edit', and keep in mind it is a 'short film', not a trailer or a quickie but a full account of my run upon The 75km West Coast Trail on August 4th.
If you need anything similar done yourself be sure to drop Erik a line. As you'll see, his work is top notch!!
Here's a brief video kinda detailing exactly what I'm up to right now, though the work sites have gotten progressively less attractive and more difficult along the way...we even got hailed on today...which means I have officially started my countdown to Hawaii in January!
I also managed a new pet fox, but we had to part ways after just five days as Roxy became insanely jealous.
I have more to say but my brain doesn't currently function. 70-80hr work weeks, consisting mostly of physical labor, can really take it outta ya. Having said that I must admit that ten days in, as tough as this job can be, it has proven to be better on all accounts than I had prepared myself for. I definitely wanted to ready myself for the worst case scenario, and after just a few days I was most certainly having trouble getting my body to do what I needed it to, and getting my mind to stop wishing I were elsewhere. By day four however I had fully accepted my decision process and was even starting to embrace it.
I've said this before and I'll say it again, you can have the best job in the world, but if you work with assholes it's still gonna suck. Conversely you can tolerate a completely shit job if you're surrounded by really good people. So far, the crew of ten that I am in this with have proved to be the absolute highlight for me. The job isn't that bad, it's just different and like everything in life you take the good with the bad. There are enough positives within a 10-12hr day that I rarely return back to camp without a smile upon my face. Having internet and currently staying in a nice hotel for a few days between camp locations is simply an added bonus.
Life Lesson Of The Week
As the 'sample sites' get harder to access and consist mostly of overgrown bog and slightly receding rivers I am often confronted with entangled willows the likes of which I have never seen before, nor knew existed. Bush whacking has taken on a whole new meaning for me and if I had my Central American machete with me right now it'd be put to good use on an hourly basis. Yesterday while trying to access a river bank and emptying my vocabulary in the process I looked ten feet forward and thought to myself, "there's no way", I then said to myself out loud, "just keep moving forward dammit". To look three feet ahead was to confront defeat, to look one step ahead however was to continually find a path.
This was followed by a translucent moment as I tied this struggle to everyday life. How often do we find ourselves looking too far ahead and simply thinking, "there's no way", "I'll never get there", "it's impossible", "I have no idea how to make this happen", and with this thought process we often cease to pursue things without ever having given them a legitimate shot.
Take the first step. I'm confident there will be a second awaiting you once you arrive there. And the willows are never quite as bad as they appear at first glance.
I'm currently sitting in the Vancouver airport about to fly out to my 45 day work stint in Quebec. I returned home from Yosemite and the Mountain Hardwear Athlete Innovation Conference at midnight on Friday, worked Saturday and Sunday, packed my bags immediately following work, and headed straight here. The life button has definitely been stuck on FFWD recently. I'm nervously excited about this new opportunity, but also wishing I had a single day of rest before heading into it. My next day off will likely come in November!
Anyways, back to Yosemite. It was a fantastically amazing four days spent in a paradisal secluded setting within a sixty year old cabin in the woods. I consumed more food in the 96hr than the previous 96 days and our hosts at the cabin made a special Gluten Free meal for me at every sitting...from scratch! I had the absolute best GF Pizza of my entire life, not to mention the cookies, pastas, BBQ's, breads, etc, etc, etc. Our hosts have Italian roots and none of us had to question this. I think the longest stint I had without food was my 90min run with Topher Gaylord, the new president of the company.
SO, I'm sitting in this room, at this table, talking gear with a bunch of gear junkies. I look around and find myself nearly overwhlemed. I'm completely surrounded by some of the most accomplished, passionate, dedicated, and humble athletes on the entire planet. The collective resumes of those within the room would easily trump what you might be able to piece together from an entire city of individuals. I felt small. Not insignificant small, but small fish in big pond small. I embraced every second of it.
I hear and read the words 'inspiration' and 'inspired' far too much lately. People seem to toss these words around like candy and I rarely go a day without noticing someone saying something has inspired them. I'm not saying this is a bad thing, just that for me I guess the difference breaks down between feeling inspired and being inspired. To feel inspired is to know you've been touched, moved, motivated, by anothers actions or words. To be inspired is to take this feeling one step further and transcend it into your own relevant actions, no matter what they might be.
Each year after seeing the highlights of The Banff Mountain Film Fest I leave the theatre feeling like I could sprout my own wings and fly to the moon and back...but rarely have I been able to act directly upon this. Mainly this is due to the fact that I tend to dream big, and the bigger the dream the scarier it can seem in your own mind.
I am inspired. I want to act on this strong sense of inspiration. Just five days ago I was sitting in a room full of complete strangers who had only previously existed within magazines, websites, and movies. A few days later and all I kept thinking was, 'what separates those who accomplish great feats to those who simply dream of great feats?' The answer is obviously action, but beyond the most simplistic answer, what allows these individuals to stare there relevant fears in the face and say,
"Na ah, not listening to you today."
I am dreaming and schemeing, and about to board a flight to the middle of nowhere for the next 45 or so days. My singular goal upon this journey is to find clarity in how I intend to live the next few years of my life. I have been very content and satisfied with everything I have been able to pursue and accomplish thus far in my 33 years upon this beautiful planet. In fact had you told me at ninteen years old where I would be when I was 33 I would have laughed and said, "yeah right!". I believe I am currently living my best case scenario.
Now it's just a matter of ensuring I can mimic this exact same conversation wtih myself when I'm 43 years old...
