I wasn’t meant to be in this race.
I mean, to the extent where my bib still said ’50K’ on the day.
After running the 50K back in 2024 and horrendously falling from 6th to 12th in the final few hours of the race, I longed for redemption.
The O.G. plan for 2025 was to continue prioritizing competitive North American 50K’s, from Black Canyon to QMT to Gorge once more.
But since racing both Squamish and Harricana last year on a knee injury (check your bingo cards!), I’ve only had a few months of training to get my fitness up. Running…no…racing, a demanding 50K so soon after returning would have not only been unwise, but potentially detrimental to the rest of my season.
Half of that was a shame, having been unable to make it to the start line of three races since Harricana. But half of that decision also made room for an exciting new venture into the sub-ultra world.
It took a few rounds of emailing, but they graciously accepted my drop-down request into the 30K a few weeks ago, and I could then put together a few training runs to prepare.
While 30K might not ever be my race distance of choice, I felt fortunate to even make it to the start-line. Seven months of dealing with this injury on and off has taught me to look for the PENGUINS (the big wins).
It’s so easy to call these kind of wins (like getting into the race) a “small win”. But I don’t like to downplay anything, so Aislinn and I call any win a ‘PENGUIN’ to remind us that even the small wins are BIG.
PENGUINS carried me through the day 🐧.
Despite it being only my second trail race shorter than the marathon distance, and despite doing little flat speed work, I had the aim, for the second year in a row at this event, of featuring in the top five.
Dylan Bowman shouting out my name beforehand gave me the hype I needed to feel like I belonged in that category.
I genuinely believed I could finish in the top five.
I now bring you this short commercial break to bring you an excerpt from last year’s 50K post:
2024 50K RECAP
I had lofty ambitions of fighting for a place on the podium, but also knew that I hadn’t been able to prioritize training in the ways that might have allowed me to flourish on race day. It was the most underprepared I’d ever felt before a race, but I still had confidence that I could crash my way onto the podium.
LESSON 1: Overconfidence mixed with unpreparedness is a dangerous mix.
All week, phantom pains and very real pains collaborated together to cause doubt into my podium hopes. But I stayed confident all the way to start line, placing myself front and centre alongside Chris Myers.
LESSON 2: When Chris Myers asks you what your plans are for the race, don’t joke about keeping up with him.
Last year, I came into the race a bit underprepared and a bit overconfident. I went out hard and fast, got my heart-rate up high, and blew up. The learnings from that race have been invaluable, helping to consistently get better performances and results out of myself since then.
But did I learn enough to not do the exact same thing this year? Check the ‘X’s on my t-shirt to find out the answer ✖️.
It’s the second year that I came in overconfident and overestimating my fitness levels, only to be humbled by the quality of runners out here in the Pacific North West.
And one of the wildest things of all is that I woke up around 3:30AM on race day and had a thought.
I bet Anna Gibson’s going to run 2:14.
Apparently I had better estimations of Anna Gibson’s fitness than my own.
The 3:30AM thought experiment was in working backwards from whether or not I could do the Squamish approach of running with the first-place woman in the field, someone very fast and confident at the distance. I find that the strategy takes some of the pressure off my own race as I can get excited celebrating someone else, without feeling that competitive threat. So, I thought about it.
Am I faster than Lauren Gregory? No.
Am I faster than Rachel Drake? On a trail, maybe.
Therefore am I faster than Anna Gibson? I don’t think so. But let’s try. And try I did, foolishly of course.
THE FIRST 15K
After lining myself up with the Brooks team including Anna Gibson and Kristina Randrup (giving me the side eye like what are you doing), I went out hard, chasing down the hot pace set by Johen Deleon.
I expected the start of the race to be fast, but I also expected it to be somewhat runnable. The course completely skips the massive climb that the 50K runners endure at the start, and I took that to mean that easier times were ahead.
Oh. How wrong could I be.
Very quickly, you could see the technicality of the rocks above the trail and how difficult it was to navigate with ten other runners directly behind you, all running at an equally fast pace (3:30-3:15/km GAP). It was hard to find a rhythm, and much harder to feel at ease with the race dynamics. The tourists at the waterfall followed by the rocky singletrack trails made it impossible to relax, let alone settle into the race.
As I tried to find a rhythm on the rocks, Nico Lightbody (eventual winner) surged ahead to catch Johen, and a group of David McKay, Josh Taylor and Anna Gibson found a flow together. As we continued to climb at blisteringly fast paces (now a 3:20/km GAP at kilometre-5), I glanced down at my heart-rate and saw 189. My intention was to keep it no more than 185 for the first half of the race, so I backed off immediately and found myself enveloped by a massive pack of runners – Hank Nadell, Ajay Hanspal, Gil Allgood, Todd Simpson, Michael Eaton and Camila Noe.
I led them through the technical sections of the course that followed, often coming to harsh slow-downs on the switchbacks. I could feel my ankles getting torn up by the rubbing of my shoes, with skin ripping blisters forming all over.
As I struggled to relax enough to properly take in XACT fruit bars, my shin and I had a telepathic moment where we realized in unison together that despite losing ground on Anna, David and Josh, that we were still running too fast for what we (my body and I) were ready for.
At least my telepathy skills are still intact ✅.
By the time we hit the long section of the road and were able to open up our stride, I had downed an entire 650ml bottle and taken in three XACT Nutrition bars (not even an hour in), reaching 120g of carbohydrates whilst running at a higher cognitive and physical demand than my body had been prepped for.
By the end of the two-mile road, Camila had caught up to me, but let me lead the climb up the trail that followed. Not too long afterward I tried to take another XACT Nutrition bar and for the first time ever, my body just completely rejected it.
The nausea that followed, combined with hamstring cramps from the hot pace, forced me to intentionally slow the pace again, allowing Ajay, Todd, and Hank to get ahead. Cue Dory singing.
THE NEXT 15K
I knew I was struggling at this time, but I had also hit my first 15K in 1:10 (PENGUIN 🐧), and had a bottle of coke + XACT left for the final 10K that I knew could turn my race around.
I felt confident that I could sustain the same pace and hit 2:20, but I also worried about my hydration levels. I had a headache early on in the race and doubted that the 350ml of coke remaining would be enough, so I briefly stopped at the 20K aid station to fill up with some kind of electrolyte drink. Camila, Gil and Michael then overtook me for the first time in the race, but I outmaneuvered Camila on the first section of the climb to take back at least some of the gap.
From the time that she caught me on the road, I could tell that she was a super impressive flat speed runner. And I’m incredibly thankful that she was there, because I might not have been able to find as much out of my body in that final section had it not been for her presence.
I could see Gil, Todd, Ajay, Hank and Michael for most of the next 10K, but never made up any ground.
I climbed and descended really well in that final 10K, but never made up any ground.
I just couldn’t muster up the energy to try and bridge the gap. All I could do was try and take the technical or trail sections as best as I could to stay ahead of Camila, knowing that we would likely be in a foot race toward the end on the roads.
While I was only three minutes off fifth on the day, I think this really speaks to the level of elite trail running right now. When I raced Harricana 42K, I knew that I could do the climbs in Mont Grand Fonds better than anyone simply by running the entire way at a consistent pace. For two years in a row now in Oregon, every single person had that gear in them. Playing to my strengths and climbing well simply wasn’t enough to make up any ground, nor any PENGUINS.
So separated by short distances for most of the final 10K, Camila and I ran simultaneously separate and together, and I could never fully shake her nor give anything more to catch Todd and Gil ahead. When we entered into Cascade Locks I started my kick, eventually getting up to 3:30/km 🐧 and finishing really strong.
After congratulating Camila and catching up with Michael over his bloody knee, I returned to the grass where I had a nice lie down last year – completely wrecked for the second year in a row.
The feelings sense have been a mix of disappointment and simultaneous pride. I know that I didn’t have any training for the five months from September to the start of January, and that a few weeks off in February didn’t help either. I know that 30K is not my distance and that I still ran a really fast time on the day 🐧. I know that I was three minutes off a jump that would have climbed me all the way into fifth place in the men’s field 🐧.
But I also know the level that I want to reach. I know there’s plenty of time to get there but I can’t help but wish things worked out just a little differently to help me be closer to that level right now and up there in the top five.
But hey… at least I wasn’t as bad after the race as last year:
2024 50K RECAP
I hit the sidewalk just in time to watch Lauren get the final camera-follow of the day, while picking up my pace to the highest it’s been since the start of the race. I’m going so fast that Dylan Bowman thinks I’m wearing a button down and says I look great. He has no idea.
LESSON 12: Remember where you leave your body.
I collapse. I die. Chris Myers tells me travel is hard. Matt Spear tells me travel is hard. I eat a burrito. I die. I want to congratulate Sarah Biehl. But I’ve forgotten my body somewhere and need to find it.
It’s not quite the day I dreamed for (or the post-race burrito I dreamt about), but it is evidently the day that my body was ready for (yes, including the post-race soup), and at the very least… at least this year I didn’t die.
AND 🐧, at least this year I got two livestream shoutouts from Dylan Bowman and had my name recognized. That’s a big win, and all I can ask for at this time as I prepare for my next few races. Sure, it’s similar feelings to last year.
But hey… Maybe next year.
Rhys Desmond 