If you combined all of the mud and water on every single one of my trail races so far and tripled the number, it wouldn’t compare to Trail de Duchesnay on Sunday.

And I’ve run on some super muddy courses. Falling Water was torn apart and super slippery; The Bad Thing rained throughout, turning bridges into slip-and-slides; and recently: QMT caused a falling fest beyond belief.

This wasn’t runnable. And I’m sure on its day, everything I’ve heard about Trail du Duchesnay is true. It’s a fast, runnable Quebec course with little hiking and technicality.

But this wasn’t that.

This was the most technical race I’ve ever experienced.

If this had been someone’s first trail race, I’m sure they would swear off trail races for life.

Being generous here, I don’t think it was safe.

FIRST LOOP – START-6KM

Having a good sock soaking warm-up, I arrived to the front row of the start line last of the elite group, eyeing up Louis Moreau and Charles-Andre Sutton – the only two runners I recognized.

I took off in the lead with 2:25 marathoner Adam Malek, immediately noticing his cross-country spikes as Louis Moreau and the other Charles (Charles-Oliver) used the sticky mud to pass us. Adam and I then formed a group of three with Charles-Andre Sutton, jostling for places in those early, muddy miles.

While the opening miles of the race had many difficult moments with roots, rocks, and the mud we’d come to know much later on, it was tame in comparison to what was to come.

I ended the split in third, running side by side along Adam and gapping Charles-Andre in the process. We conversed about our mutual love for speaking English, in between breaths about how Louis and Charles-Oliver were less than a minute ahead.

Adam decided to bridge that gap, and I, rather regretfully, stayed just in front of Charles-Andre.

This is where things got real.

I’m sure if Adam and I ever meet for a race again, that he’ll never take my advice.

“It’s supposed to get easier from here” I said to Adam, having been told that by previous runners.

CUT TO: KNEE DEEP WATER. MUD GALORE. WASHED OUT TRAILS.

As I watched Adam slide around in the washout, I too was having my own issues.

I gambled with my shoe choice, having heard the race was “runnable”.

When Le Québécois say something is “runnable”, they still mean roots and rocks. They just mean it’s not Mestachibo or hiking up Mont-Saint-Anne. So I knew it would still be tough.

But nothing, apart from maybe water slide lessons, could have prepared me for what was to come. Certainly not my fast, runnable trail shoes.

THE MUD WARS – 6K-26K

As we entered the mud wars, I kept Adam encouragingly in my sights. But Louis and Charles-O continued to look strong and navigate the tough parts well (i.e. everything). So just after 10K, I became quite defeated quite fast. My socks were soaked to the brim, my shoes were heavy like bricks, and every single step required so much meticulous planning.

Every single puddle (basically 3/4 of the course) had to be planned for the worst. You could never tell how deep it was going to be, and the landings were always harsher than expected. There were several moments where I came to a halt, slipped, fell, walked, hiked, flipped upside down… just a whole bunch of things that only water slide lessons could have prepared me for.

Adding to the challenge, the signs on course made the entire day confusing, especially as someone who had never been out there before. I’d see “42K to go” followed by “14K to go”, followed by “4K to go”, and none of these were ever how long I actually had “to go”. Around 14K, I turned around to ask a cameraman if I was going the right way, only to confirm the obvious – I was.

Eventually Charles-Andre made light work on me, with his longer legs and superior shoes gliding past me in the mud, putting me temporarily in fifth.

Moments later I took a complete wipe out, getting my eyes, mouth, and bottles, covered in mud, keeping me temporarily in fifth.

But Adam remained in sight.

AND THEN HALLELUJAH.

We hit the first runnable (yet still rocky) downhill of the entire race. Charles-Andre had made a minute gap on both of us by the end of the trail, and in the quest to make up the necessary ground before it became ugly again, I ran a Strava styled “mile PR” chatting with Adam about his 2:25 marathon.

I then felt confident for the first time in miles, as the 2:25 marathoner tucked in behind me on the rocky downhill. We came into the aid station with Charles, each of us just carrying on and blowing by the aid, probably all hands on deck to catch Louis and Charles-O.

This is where I officially lost Adam for good. Unfortunately, it was also where Charles-Andre officially lost me for good.

Unfortunately for everyone, it also happened to be the start of the “WEEEEE” water slides.

So – picture a not so deep waterfall. That is what we ran down for several kilometres of rock and root. No exaggeration. We traded the swampy knee-deep mud for a total waterslide of a time, except running on two feet instead of tubing on two you know what’s.

My mind was under so much stress from the meticulous planning, not to mention getting over a cold the week of the race, that I struggled to eat throughout the event. My plan of eating every 20-minutes became challenging when everything tasted like dirt and didn’t sit well on my stomach, and my lungs felt heavy on every single uphill.

But on the downhills or any runnable section I could find, I continued to soar into the 3:30’s, making it the most inconsistently paced race I’ve ever had. I’d get into the 8:00’s and 7:00’s/km, weaving around the 48K runners and the pools of water, only to find a downhill and burst into 3:20-3:30.

Having the quality of running from someone like Adam in behind motivated me to continue that way, as I felt like I could be stronger on both skillsets despite his pedigree. It was a great person to have somewhere behind me, even if I didn’t know where, forcing me to stay in racing mode as much as possible.

THE FINAL PUSH – 26K-34K

At the 26K aid I took a banana to try some real food, and half of a caffeinated XACT bar (blackcurrant is my fave). I then tried to find a flow again, continuing to feel a bit powerless on uphills, but so freaking good on downs.

Giving some perspective, I met up with the 48K winner at the start of one of these downhill stretches, and immediately rampaged past him to a sizable gap by the end.

The way I saw it – it was my only chance to run at the speeds I wanted to hit on the day. By 30K I still had so much left to give, but felt like the chances of catching Charles and Charles were slim. I felt like fourth was in the bag, and just wanted to finish strong and uninjured, after the most difficult racing experience I’ve had to date.

The 18K winner then caught up to me toward the end, and I told him I’d help push him to the line. Selfishly, I knew it was the one thing that could get me into a racing mode at the end.

So we soared down the final descent together, motivating each other right to the line, and giving me a fourth place finish in the 34K.

After the race, it was difficult to know how to feel. I’m positive that I ran the runnable parts faster than anyone. I just couldn’t get into a racing mode, with my shoes stuck in the mud and the other three guys having less of an issue. That’s trail running, I guess, and it’s why I love this sport. A combination of factors need to go into any win or any podium, and my combination of factors didn’t amount to more than fourth on the day.

It’s nice to have another racing experience in Quebec under my belt, and a precursor to the upcoming battle that will happen again with Charles-Andre at QMT; not to mention the other fast guys in the province going for Nationals this year. I just wish I had been able to run and race more of this one.

But in the end, at least I have a new story to tell next Halloween.

I’ll call it: Mud Wars and Waterslides.