Tenderfoot Boogie 50 Miler

Victory By Default

Tenderfoot Boogie 50 miler

This race took place on 15 May, 2010.  It has taken me 6 months to write a report, partly out of laziness and partly because it was hard to find positive things to say.  But, as I say at the end of the post, it was a day for learning.

The route from Squamish to Whistler is one that I have travelled many times yet I didn’t know of any trail system that linked the two cities.  My favourite running trails these days are those fabulous mountain bike trails in the Squamish area, so it seemed like a good fit for me.  The cherry on top was that my good buddy, George, was keen to run it as well.

The Tenderfoot race consists of 3 different distances – 28 km, 55 km and 50 miles – and an option for relay teams as well.  From my pre-race calculations, I knew that the shorter distance runners would hear their starting gun and be long gone by the time I arrived at those points.  There were only 14 people at the starting line for the 50 miler at 5 am, so I knew that it would be a pretty quiet day on the trails.  In the back of my mind, I expected to run with George only for the beginning of the day.  I was keen to run my own race on my own and let George do the same.  We both had different reasons for being out there and different goals to fulfil.  I would be lucky to see anyone out there at all.

The first section of the course was familiar since we had scoped it out during one of Gottfried’s orientation runs.  It all looked a little different in the early morning light, but we had no troubles figuring out which way to go at various junctions.  George and I ran together and were in pretty good spirits, knowing that the day would be long.  There were some long stretches of gravel trail on a river dike, beside the railroad and on the highway shoulder but there were also a few single track sections that were fun.  Since I knew this part of the course, nothing came as a surprise.

The first cause for worry was at aid station #1 (13 km).  There was a 10 litre jug of water and a 10 litre jug of something that looked like water.  In the crap-shoot, I lucked out and refilled both bottles with water.  George however was unlucky and ended up with two bottles full of some electrolyte drink that was quite undrinkable.  Even after adding a nuun tablet, we both found it unpalatable.  With knowledge of his common stomach issues, he decided to dump it and share some of mine until the next aid station.

At aid station #2 (28 km), we found that the 2 water jugs were now clearly labelled.  Gail was there with a cooler full of race treats for George and all the options for clothing and hydration that you could dream of.   We carried on and entered new territory of unknown trails.

The second cause for worry was just beyond aid station #2. 

White River 50 Miler

A Tale of Two Goats

White River 50 miler race report

After the disaster that was Scorched Sole, I knew that I needed to get right back into running and I needed a goal.  Even with the knowledge that White River 50 is for climbers, I got out the credit card and registered.  A bunch of local friends always head down to volunteer, so I knew that our accommodation was set.  Marie Boucher had signed up, looking to get another 50 miler in before going to Pine to Palms.  She was keen on running with me and promised to get me over those two hills.

Before the race, everyone seemed to have advice on how to run the course.

Conserve your energy on the first half

Don’t pound your quads on the first descent.

Remember that Suntop is the longer climb.

Save something for Skookum Flats.  It isn’t flat at all.

Race Face

So off we went, side-by-side.  The first part of the course is beautiful forested, single track – my absolute favourite type of trail.   Before Marie and I had even caught up on the latest news, we were at the first aid station. 

Scorched Sole 50 Miler

A DNF Story

Scorched Sole 50 miler race report

In June 2009, the RDs of Scorched Sole extended their race repertoire to include a 50 mile distance.  At the time, I considered signing up for it but ultimately decided to run the 50 km.  I wanted to save my 50 miler comeback for Stormy 2009.  As I watched the 50 mile runners cross the finish line, I decided to sign up for the 50 mile course the following year.

A year later, I toed that same start line.  We headed up through Okanagan Mountain Park and west towards Lost Lake.  No sooner had the run begun when Wendy and I, in a moment of inattention, saw some sweet single-track and unintentionally headed off course.  It took us some time to recognize our mistake and retrace our steps.  When we were finally back on track, we discovered that we were last.  Even though the field was only 37 starters, it was a little disheartening and we both seemed to change our focus from Race to Run.  We eventually caught up to a few runners, including George Forshaw, as we hiked up Little White.  The 50 km runners began to overtake the three of us, having made up the hour difference in start times.  We counted them off and told our tale of woe to Bruce as he flew up the trail.

As our threesome continued our climb to the summit of Little White, we were still in good spirits and moved at a fairly strong pace.  We passed the aid station volunteers who were still packing in supplies for aid #4.  When we arrived at their destination, we found a number of water jugs but no snacks.  We continued up, up, up to the summit and began to see the first 50 km runners running back to us, having reached their halfway point.  The last kilometre of the climb was patchily covered with spring snow but it wasn’t too difficult to navigate.

We reached the summit and found that there were water jugs, but no aid station.  In 2006, we had climbed a similar route and there had been a few hardy volunteers with some food for us at this point.   I had expected the same this time since the map had been marked ‘minor aid’, not ‘water only’.  We topped up our water bottles continued on the 50 mile route, which carried on along the summit ridge before we would descend to the halfway point.  The summit ridge was deep in spring snow.