For the past two weeks, I had two main concerns.

1. Not starting.
2. Not finishing.

I had the Black Eyed Peas styled time of my life in Quebec with the XACT team five weeks ago. But the high of everything that came with that race didn’t transcend to the rest of my body, and one injury after another seeped through my skin until I wasn’t sure if I should do anything except travel to Squamish and watch the events unfold.

I wrote a preview of the race, calling it the most competitive contest in Canadian trail running history.

In that preview, I picked eight men that I thought would be guaranteed to finish top ten if they had a good day. That left just two spots open to get the finish I’d been advertising to anyone that asked about the race within the last year. Even at that, in my mind, I also had Marc and Stephen as lock it pop it put it in your pocket picks for that top ten if they had a great day. Basically, where I’m going with this is to say that there was very little breathing room for someone like me to convince me that me could finish top ten. Feel me?

Intentionally, I excluded myself from my own preview.

All of this helped.

I’ve essentially entered my second year in the sport as a new me. Inevitably, Ontario trail running is different. But when you do your first year in the sport and you podium at every single race, you suddenly think you are an untouchable goddess of war. You think – even though next year’s races will be more competitive, in the mountains, and with people that speak French, I can be just as good. With more experience and training, I can do the same. I can podium at all of them again.

I can come third at Gorge. 9th.

I can come third in Quebec. 7th.

I can be humbled. ✅

I’ve entered this new phase in my trail running where I (almost) don’t care about the result. I’ve set specific goals as extra motivation (like top 5 at QMT, or top 10 at Squamish), but I’ve found I actually don’t care about the result if I’m working hard, playing it smart, and having fun.

The calamity of the experience at Gorge (moving from 6th to 12th OA in the last 10km) was not only humbling, but the best thing to happen on the trails all year.

I now know…

1. The result does not really matter.
2. I can find happiness in so many different outcomes.
3. If I want to be happy, I can’t overshoot my shot. I have to play it smarter.

& My favourite mantra when things get tough now:

4. “Well, it doesn’t hurt as bad as Gorge.”

This has created a strategic umbrella where I now see myself as someone who races best when playing it conservatively for the first half of the race, making up ground in the closing stages.

Sulphur Springs 20K Recap: Cruise Control

At the time of writing my Gorge recap, I recognized that the smartest plays of the day were made by Sarah Biehl. Sarah took the first half more conservatively than most of the top ten on the day. But she raced her way into fifth overall in a super stacked field. The exact moment that she passed me was the exact moment that my legs forgot how to move, so it’s probably her fault. But it’s also my fault for not playing it smart like her.

I vowed from that moment on that the best approach for me in these high-calibre North American races might be to hang with the top women in the field for a little while, take the pressure off, and make moves through the men’s field in the second half. I did that for the first 4k at Sulphur and won the race, spent some time with Robyn at QMT before making my way up the pack, and I liked the approach as a way of having much to give in the second half. I knew coming into Squamish, that Jade Belzberg and Élisa Morin would be around the same fitness, and great people to run with if given the opportunity.

Boom. My first conversation of the day – Jade Belzberg.

We started the race at an almost pedestrian pace. About fifteen guys and a handful of girls started the day together in a group controlled at the front by Charlie Sikkema – at about 4:30/km on the roads.

As soon as we hit the trail, things got dark. Things got dark fast. But you could still see and count the guys ahead of you. I felt comfortable with the pace and stayed on the back of Samuël Poher until we started to climb. At that point, I let the top ten men do their thing, and I continuously chilled the pace as I watched my heart-rate head toward the scary zone.

It was at that moment that I said my first words since the start:

“Jade?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m Rhys. Rhys Desmond.”
“Nice to meet you.”

It was perfect timing. I knew that hanging with her would be great for so many reasons.

1. She’s super smart.
2. She’s super experienced.
3. It’s less pressure to feel like you’re really racing someone since you’re almost competing in two different fields.

& aligning myself to my goals…

4. In most of these races, the leading lady will move up all day in the rankings (as the men trying to race from the front explode), finishing in the back-half of the top ten overall. That’s exactly where I want to be (not the exploding part, the top ten part).

When we finally hit more of an open section, she asked if I wanted to pass. I presented her with an option.

“Do you like leading the pack or trailing behind better?”
“Either.”
“Sweet. Just let me know what you need and I will help you.”

At that XACT moment, we caught two runners and they urged us to go ahead. We laughed as Jade said that she didn’t know if she could. I then decisively made the move to lead the pack up the rest of the climb. I didn’t know that we’d turn around almost immediately after to go straight down, so this ended up being a great decision.

I could see the line the entire way, and the order of everyone else behind us as we soared back down. At the start of that downhill, we caught a brief glimpse of Élisa Morin. By the time I almost took the entire pack the wrong way until a last-minute sighting, Élisa had joined us.

Brayden Mills and I then exchanged a few words as we continued to descend toward the first aid station. I knew the next aid station would be only 10K away, and I didn’t want to lose the pack, so I didn’t fill up any bottles.

Instead, I grabbed some watermelon, told Jade she was crushing it, and then met up with Élisa Morin, Christopher Levesque-Savard and Mitchell Valic.

Other than the very end, this was my favourite stretch of the race.

Brief interruption in the action to tell you why I had the Black Eyed Peas styled time of my life. It’s essentially this:

• I talked to every single runner that I passed or passed me throughout the entire race.
• Everyone was so friendly and warm, and that simultaneously reminded you that you were racing, but that the result didn’t really matter.

What mattered more? That you could help each other work hard and stay in positive spirits. It was exactly like that with Mitchell and Christopher.

We chatted about their “unfinished business” with each other, and then agreed that we’d like to make our way into the top ten in the second half. I worked different muscles as we made our way up Galactic, intermittently intermixing hiking and running as Élisa and Jade led us up – running the entire time 🤯.

As I pranced up the hill like a jovial elf that had been studying the naughty or nice list for years (knowing everyone by name even though they didn’t know me), Mitchell mentioned that Shaun Stephens-Whale made a move up Galactic the year prior, finishing second on the day. Like any good detective, I should have paid more attention to this clue.

Predictably, Mitchell then balled out like Lebron and made a move on us. Christopher went with him like Kobe and I knew immediately that I had to let them go. My heart-rate was sitting in the 170s throughout the climb, and sticking with Élisa and Jade would be smarter.

It was just the three of us for the remainder of the climb, me – with this amazing front row seat to the battle for first and second in the women’s race.

As we started the descent, the two of them took very different approaches. I know from watching her Wy’East win that Jade is a sublime downhiller. So I know she was taking it cautious on the super steep technical stuff. Élisa meanwhile was more like one of those rolling blocks of cheese that nobody could catch.

Probably worried that I was going to crash into her or kick a loose rock that could end her day, Jade ever so politely asked me if I wanted to pass again.

I did. Élisa was storming ahead and I wanted to catch the cheese. But there wasn’t really a moment to pass until I took a steeper section to the left of the trail and kicked it into high gear. Élisa looked over her shoulder and I used my manly voice to let her know it wasn’t Jade. We chatted about the sketchiness of the bridges, the sweet sweet footing conditions on the otherwise brutally steep technicality of the downs, and my Fantasy Freetrail picks, where I picked the two of them as my one and two.

Just before the aid station, I thought it would be wise to lay down a bit of a hammer to pass Élisa and buy myself some time to finally fill up a bottle at the second aid. Not only Élisa, but Jade blew by me as the volunteers told me not to eat the pickle on the grass (you do weird things in trail races, what can I say?).

By the time I ran back up to Élisa, I was hitting a groove and starting to feel comfortable for the first time in the race. Before then, we were really pushing the HR, hitting efforts that I prayed could be sustainable. As we slowed down on the next downhill, Jade re-joined and we added Chad Boissy to our pack coming into the third aid station at 23K.

THIS WAS SO COOL.

All of a sudden, coming out of the trail, it was like a European race as we climbed up a set of stairs to a huge crowd, each of us finding our crews comfortably.

Élisa and Jade quickly made their way out, but I took longer to take pickles (these ones not on the grass), really taking my time. Unfortunately, this turned out not to be the best decision. This is where I lost the pack, my mindsets started to take a turn for the worst, and my legs started to feel heavy as we climbed up Legacy.

Next time, I’ll have a third bottle with me of just XACT Electrolyte tabs so I don’t need to stop as long to settle the legs down.

Realistically, they were not too far ahead. Yet since I couldn’t see them, it made the next few kilometres really difficult (suddenly, I like running with other people). Truth be told, I was still moving pretty well. But I got into a headspace where I was telling myself that I wasn’t. That it was going to be a long second half. That I needed to avoid blowing up like I did at Gorge. That my body was likely having to work so much harder because of my knee injury. Boo. Bad headspaces.

30K to 40K was rough. A lot of that had to be mental. Because around 39K, I took an XACT Nutrition bar, and the jovial Elf vibes returned as I rolled with the downhill. I knew that if I could change my mindsets and convince myself that I wasn’t feeling too bad, that I could still have a great finish.

Coming into the aid station, crewmate Josh Bolton said I looked better than most of the people ahead (how?), Élisa was seconds ahead (how?) and I was still in a good enough position to possibly finish top ten (how?). At this time, I dropped one bottle (okay, actually two because I dropped one and then I dropped one, you know?). I filled up with coca-cola to take three bottles for the final stretch, and after dusting off the dropped bottle, I caught up with Élisa again.

We encouraged each other as we navigated around both the technicality of the fallen trees and the 23K runners. I felt a sense of solitude knowing I was back running with her, and something she said struck me as the perfect mantra for the remainder of the race. “I told myself, ‘just keep running and you will feel better’.” Great motto. Just keep running. So we did.

We caught Michael Nangle not too long after, and together we made a pack of three to the final climb, all the way down the other side toward the final part on the pavement. Élisa, a proper runner with perfect form and road running expertise, and I…, had chatted about how excited we were to hit the pavement and just go. But we couldn’t lose the ever-so encouraging Michael, who motivated me through insane hamstring and abductor cramps as we charged down the final set of stairs. This was one of the nicest things that Michael could have possibly done, but his kindness also gave me a sense of assuredness that he wasn’t ready to pass.

When we finally escaped the trail, I immediately hit the gas and gapped Michael on the downhill toward the pavement. Élisa went with me and made a move of her own to catch me as my cramps went berserk. We then ran to the final road together, as I pointed at her and tried to hype up the crowd to cheer her on even more.

THEN OUT OF NOWHERE. Chad freaking Boissy. High-fiving spectators.

I can catch him. I can catch him. I can freaking catch him.

I don’t know how, but Chad didn’t notice me until that decisive moment. “Oh f***.” He said, as we sprinted to the finish line in dramatic fashion. 11th Male. 12th OA. But I didn’t take those initial moments to celebrate myself. Instead I immediately turned around and pointed to Élisa, coming in for her second-place female finish.

Christopher and Jade were the first to greet us as we celebrated our days, making for the best possible feeling as we applauded the success of one another.

For me personally, coming into the race with these two doubts and worries:

1. Not starting.
2. Not finishing.

I was overjoyed to come so close to accomplishing that near-impossible goal of finishing top ten.

But the feelings were magnified as I saw the spirits of everyone else, like Jade – ninth overall and a women’s course record, Élisa – fourteenth overall, and one of the fastest times ever. Then Christopher and Mitchell – cracking that top ten just like we said we would. Even my former Waterloo teammate Steph Ryall coming out of nowhere from her track and road background to finish third in the women’s race. So much fun. And confidently, I raced harder than ever before. That front row seat to the women’s race was unlike anything I’ve experienced, and I was so happy to have a day worth celebrating too.

Thanks for reading and see you at UTHC!

Quebec Mega Trail 50K Recap – We all fall down
Sulphur Springs 20K Recap: Cruise Control
Gorge Watefalls 50K Recap: The art of recalibration