This year, I made an intentional decision to go down in distance on the trails, working on fundamental speed and efficiency over total vertical gain, long training weekends, and all the extra layers that go into ultras.
One of the main reasons for this decision was the ease at which I could train for shorter distances in the demands of a busy schedule. I coach athletes, write articles, work with kids, and like to go on adventures with my girlfriend Aislinn. Spending four to eight hours on the trails per weekend isn’t as easy as it maybe once was.
What I learned this year is exactly the same lesson I learned in high school. I can be good at shorter distance racing, but I’m best when you give me more variables, more skill-based components, and more room to sit in discomfort. Shorter trail races just don’t allow for the level of mental and physical resilience that I require to be at my absolute best.
It’s been a valuable relearning, and one that has given me great confidence for what I can do upon returning to the 50K and 50-mile distance next year.
This year, I’ve had two of my best races (Run Ridge Run 25K and now this Squamish 23K), from fast, all-out racing – trusting myself to push into higher zones, and knowing where and when I can do damage on a course. On the other side, I’ve also had two of my worst races ever in Trail des Collines and the Whistler Half Marathon – where I struggled to mentally stay in the fight and pace myself efficiently.
In both of those races, I struggled working with others around me, and in working alone. When alone, I mentally gave up and couldn’t find enough within myself to push and probe until catching back up to anyone ahead. When with others, I didn’t trust myself to stay with them, and assumed them to be better.
Going into Squamish, Coach Jade and I talked about making this one more experimental, and leaning into one of her favourite terms of curiosity.
Despite a bit of stress and an unideal sleep schedule this summer, my fitness has been feeling at a decent enough place. I thought that maybe I could give the start of this race a proper go, knowing that the second half would get technical and tough for everyone.
So right off the start-line, I accelerated onto the heels of Alexandre Ricard. This wasn’t my intention whatsoever, after looking around the start-line and seeing Ivan Shvetsov, Liam Hobbs, Matt Luongo and the ever-present Running Room outfit attached to Alex. But I was properly warmed up and primed to sprint off the line, and didn’t waste that extra half a second (because there’s always a half a second) after the word “go”.
After the downhill onto the road concluded, I checked my heart-rate and saw that I was within the threshold I wanted to stay, but knew that could change with the impending incline. I intentionally slowed to let Ivan and Liam do the chasing, forming a nice little second group with Brae Walker, Matt Luongo and Alex Comeau.
Alex impressed us all at sixteen years old, and we all underestimated his ability to handle the technicality of all that downhill running. Right before the trails I glanced down at his shoes, and saw that they weren’t exactly high-tech trail shoes. So I bided my time until right before the trail began to surge ahead of Alex, taking Brae with me too.
Now it began – the long uphill start to this race, involving a relentless, never-ending climb. With ten other guys in close proximity all hustling and bustling, I continuously checked my heart-rate (and effort) – ensuring that I was staying in check and not about to reach the same dangerous territory of Trail des Collines – when I led a similar group up the climb too fast.
By the time we hit the gravel road to begin our descent, Alex Comeau took off. Matt, Brae and I chatted briefly whilst still running numbers in the 3’s, re-entering the trail at Another Man’s Gold in close proximity.
I considered stopping to get my head dunked in water (it was already hot and I was already feeling it), but I didn’t want to lose the group. So I stayed. Then one second later Brae said something like:
“You boys feeling good? I’m going to rip this.”
Matt was like “Oh yeah!”, and together they went.
So now not only have I not stopped to cool, I’ve also lost the guys I stayed for.
In previous races, this would have been where I slow down, almost forgetting that I’m racing. I’ve historically run well when alone in 50K’s – trusting myself to make up the ground. But in shorter races, I know that very few people are going to blow up and allow time to come back to them. So I’ve struggled to find the right effort (and to not get defeated) when the guys I want to run with decide to go off.
Not this time.
I continued to push on any section where I could find a bit of form, keeping my heart-rate steadily in the 170’s-185. Eventually, I caught up to Justin Monteleone, who was leading Isaac Baker up to the top of the most technical part of the course.
Feeling good, I quickly made a move to pass them, and never looked back. With all the technical downhill, leaping, jostling, and survival swinging, I didn’t fuel this section. I waited for my moment when the trail would open up again to take in a gel.
As soon as we hit the more runnable, gravel path, I opened my XACT bar. But the section started with a downhill. So I waited. Then we continued inching closer to the aid station, and I wanted this thing gone and taken care of.
I knew I needed water on my head, a third gel (I lost one unknowingly somewhere either before the start or on course), and a bottle filled. I didn’t want a fourth thing on my mind approaching the aid station with three guys breathing down my neck.
So I took in the XACT bar whilst running downhill, and almost immediately threw up. I slowed to make sure everything was in order, and by the time I reached the aid station and got sponged down twice, I found myself entrenched (but still leading) a pack of four. What was once just me from the gap I made on the downhill, was now a pack of four again.
Wasting no extra time to ensure I could get a good position on the trail, I didn’t stop to fill up the bottle I knew I needed.
With 8K to go, I now just had to hang on.
Luckily for me, Isaac Baker was there. “How are you feeling man?”
“Really good. You?”
“I’m s*** on the downhills.”
I told him that the toughest part was over, and that while it would still be technical through Far Side and all that, there would be a fun little road section for him at the end to let his road legs fly.
Despite his fears of the downhill, Isaac ran tremendously. He hung off the back of my now soaking wet t-shirt for all 8K, running every single step in harmony with me.
We spoke only a few words, but I kept thinking to myself ‘Wow. His engine must be wild.’ He was breathing heavily throughout every single uphill. But he just stayed there. Hanging onto me. Not letting go.
I kept my effort in check trusting he would stay behind, slowing on the uphills, and then trying to see how he would respond to a few surges on the runnable downhills. It would create a few seconds of a gap, but he responded well every single time. It was after the first one of these that I knew he would indeed have all the legs he needed for the road, and a lot more pace to burn.
Still, I tried testing him a few times, and I even told him to hold back on the final descent to save his legs for the road.
He took my advice, and then immediately caught up to me as soon as it turned runnable again.
Throughout this time, I didn’t have any water but a measly teardrop of a sip. So you can imagine the irony in my brain when Isaac’s first act after fist bumping me and taking off was to dump his remaining water on the road.
From there, Isaac ran around 3:20/km, and I could muster up the strength to hover around 3:45-3:50/km. He gapped me by an entire thirty seconds relatively quickly, but I hung out there for a while, keeping him in my sights all the way to the finish line.
In the end, it was one of the strongest efforts I’ve given on the trails. My heart-rate has never averaged as high as the 173 it did today. Not in the desert of Javelina’s 30K, and not at Harricana’s 30K last year – where I can remember stepping on the gas pedal throughout.
Despite it only being 9th place, it’s a sign of growth that I’ve been able to figure out the formula to put in this kind of effort and end my short-trail racing career on a high.
I’m incredibly appreciative of Coach Jade and the work we’ve done together to build up my speed in this time, and I’m now looking forward to taking that speed and racing knowhow back into the longer distances again next year.
This weekend, I also want to celebrate a few of the athletes that I work with. Laurence Laplante finished with a silver medal at the Mont Tremblant 27K, and Kevin & Rachel got their Squamish 50K done in the books – Rachel running sub 7-hours and winning her age group for the second time this year. I’m immensely proud to be working with such talented athletes and I’m always looking to help more.
If you are interested in learning about my coaching, you can find the details here. In the meantime, thanks for reading and see you soon!
