Friday morning we get up far too early for my taste. Slam everything into the car and hit the road. I feel ill. Not the "I ate something bad" ill but the nervous, "what have I gotten myself into?!" ill.
The house in Grande Cache that Trish rented was gorge. Such a good idea. Threw our stuff in and headed to the rec centre to pick up some sweet race kits. Wandered the mall and looked at some swag. Nothing really jumped out at me so I decided not to buy anything. The only thing I REALLY wanted was the mounted team picture. Back to the house for a delicious dinner and then it was off to the rally!
Dr. Death
Dr. Death went over the yooj; don't start fast. This race is about endurance. Death Racers can help other Death Racers. Blah, blah, blah. Gave a brief overview of each leg. Here we learned that Leg 3 & 4 had been changed for sure. Sarah was now running an extra 2 km's and I was only running 36. This we could handle.
Angels at the rally
For as long as I had waited, as much as I had prepared, Saturday came on hard and fast. Standing at the starting line, getting Kathie ready to go is a feeling one can't even describe. The energy of these fellow crazy people is intoxicating. Hearts racing, smiles abound, everyone looking fresh and clean, still thinking this is a good idea.
And she's off!
Kathie got off without a hitch and we quickly returned to the house to get Captain T ready for her first Leg (cause she's a robot and signed up for TWO). The first transition point is where it really started to hit me. It's chaos. Some teams are so sloppy. No thought or plan to their process. We assigned roles; at this one, I was to grab the jacket out of Kathie's pack and put it in Trish's, Sarah was to transfer the coin and Kathie and Trish would exchange the timing stick. It's an art. Lose any of these items and the race is over. You see people dropping things, forgetting to transfer an item, leaving without poles. There's people crying (ya it's usually me) and soloists, well soloists are a whole different breed. The set up they have just boggles the mind. Gels, salt tabs, food, shoes, socks, clothes everything pre-sorted and packaged for quick access. They'll have an entire support team around them. One to change shoes and deal with blisters. One to feed. Another to fill water and always someone talking to them. These men and women are heroes. Soloists and the people who are there to support them, both are huge undertakings. Hat's off.
Waiting for your racer to come in is a strange mix of fear and excitement. With every minute that ticks off, you get a little more worried. Did something go wrong? Is she okay? In the back of my mind, I know that every minute they take, is a minute less I have to get up and over a mountain.
Kathie rounds the corner looking GOOD. Tears start. I run to get Trish ready. "Holy shit, this is really happening!" BAM! Kathie's in, Trish is gone. Now it's that much closer to my turn. Sweet baby jesus.
Quick team photo before Trish climbs two mountains.
Kathie recaps her Leg for us. She ROCKED it! Said it was one of her best runs EVER. Pretty sure also put up a PB. So proud of her. She has been such a pillar of strength and inspiration throughout this entire process. Battling numerous physical issues and still putting in the miles. Always something good to say, a laugh to share, a story to tell.
Kathie, you're amazing and I love you. I am so proud of all that you are and all that you've done. Thank you for everything you've shared. For everything you've taught me. For just being awesomer.
Matt and I take Sarah to the transition point to meet Trish. Waiting was KILLER. Sarah handled it SO WELL. I was getting all nervous, anxious and weird but she was totally calm, cool and collected.
Totally calm, waiting for Trish.
We all misjudged Trish's time so we were there for awhile. Better us than her right? I had more of a role in this transition so I'm sorry to say I didn't get any pictures of our Captain's big finish. In waiting however, we did learn that the race started 6 minutes late, so all cutoff times had been bumped up 6 minutes. A quick check of the race bib informed us that Sarah now had until 7:21pm to finish her Leg. She had no qualms about this. Neither did I, girl is FAST. Matt ran T in and we made the switch and Sarah took off like a rocket! Trish recapped for us. She felt good. She looked good. I had no doubt that she'd be able to do it all again in 10 hours.
Trish, thank you just doesn't seem like enough. You are amazing. You're one of the strongest people I know. A true inspiration. I look up to you and admire you. I'm proud of you. Love you always.
Trish and one of her mountains, pre-race.
Now it hit me. I'M NEXT. Nerves like I've never felt before. Puke.
Gathered my shi, loaded up and headed out to the transition point. We were told at the rally that for this transition, solo and relay were separate. So we'd see the solo point, drive 3 km's farther and hit the relay point. We pass a transition on the left. Assume it's the solo, but a small voice in my head seemed to think that was actually where I finished. So confused. Keep driving. Come across a taped off section on the left, it's not a transition point but clearly a Death Race crossing. Drive a bit more and now we're all getting nervous. Did we go the right way? What if we're late? Please don't have Sarah be there waiting. The nerves over took us and we turned around, back to the taped off section to ask for directions. It's not 3 km's, it's 3 MILES from HERE. She tells me we can't miss it. Matt floors it, it's about 6:40pm. Finally come around the corner and it's PACKED. Probably 200 cars on the side of the highway. She was right, couldn't miss it. As soon as we park I jump out and start looking around for Sarah. God I hope and pray she hasn't been sitting here waiting for us. I think it's 6:46 now. A quick scan of the area lets me know that Sarah's not here yet. Huge sigh of relief. Now the waiting begins. I feel sick. I have to pee. I don't know if I can move I'm so nervous.
Matt comes over to give me some bad news. Really bad news. Cutoff is actually 7pm. Not 7:15. This is major. I hear that they're using the cutoff time from the brochure, which was printed before the distance change, and sticking to it. Sure, they're still adding the 6 minutes from the late start so this means Sarah has until 7:06 to get here. It's 6:52. 13 minutes. If only we had a way to tell her! My hero of a husband decides to do just that. He runs out as far as he legally can to let her know as soon as he sees her. Meanwhile, Kathie and I are waiting, stomachs turning for our sweet Sarbear to come around the corner. I'm keeping one ear on the volunteers, trying to hear if they're going to cut people off. My fingers are still crossed that the 7:06 rumour is just that. A nasty rumour. I've checked my bib again, it says 7:15. I'm holding tight to this fact with two hands. 7:01 rolls by and they are still letting people continue. A soloist comes in at 7:07. They tell him his race is over. My Death Race dreams have been crushed. He's PISSED. Clearly he had been pacing himself with the 7:15 in mind. I can't see Matt to let him know. I don't have the heart to tell Kathie just yet so I sit with it. In a porta-potty. With my tears. As I'm walking back, I see Matt come running in. Yes, running. In his flippy floppies. "What are you doing?! Let's go!" I just shrug and shake my head. The look on his face kills me. He knows how much I've put into this. How long I've been looking forward to it. I get there in time to see Sarah time in. In time to see them tell her that her race is over. Crushed is the first thing that comes to mind. I walk over and hold her. Let her know that it's not her fault. Tell her to not let some politics take away from what she just did.
Sarah ran the race of her LIFE. She added 2 km's and beat her PB by almost a full 10 minutes. Matt said watching her bust out that last little bit was inspiring. I'm sad I missed it. I hear it was full on, balls out SPEED. She timed in at 7:13. Didn't even need the extra 6 minutes.
Epic finish.
Sarah, you are truly amazing. How you can train, work full time and deal with a sweet and active little man is an inspiration. Thank you for your unwavering support. I'm so proud of all you've accomplished. Love you long time.
My weekend didn't exactly turn out as planned. I think we were all pretty emotional for the rest of it. I drank a jug o' wine (Thanks Ma!!!) with a little help from my Angels. Still though, all things happen for a reason and maybe one day I'll know what that reason is.
Drinking at the finish line. Cause I'm classy like that.
My girls are incredible. I feel so blessed to have gone through this process with them. I knew when I started this that it was about the journey, not the destination. I still got some lifetime friends, still grew my love for trail running, still learned so much about myself and my limits. Being able to say "I'm a Death Racer" wouldn't change any of that. Sure, I'm disappointed. It's still too raw for me to say what I'll do next. Is the Death Race dead to me? Do I want to try again? When? What Leg? So many questions that will only be answered in time.
Regardless, I say Thank You. To my team: Each of you holds a special place in my heart forever. "Thank you" and "I love you" will fall short every time. I've learned so much about myself through each of you.
To my family: Thank you for your support, your never faltering faith in me. When the road got rough, your confidence pushed me through.
To my friends: Thank you for listening to me go on about this for the last 7 months. For taking an interest in my training and supporting me with your thoughts, words and actions. I couldn't be here without all of you.
To my amazing Dr. McDreamy husband: I love you so much. Thank you for all of your support throughout this entire ride. For taking on more at home, for letting me sleep through the night, for pushing me out of bed or out the door as I'm growling at you. Thank you for never questioning my ability to do this. For being a pillar of strength. For picking me up when I fell. Thank you for being there. Thank you for the integral role you played this past weekend. Your knowledge, guidance and words of encouragement will never be forgotten. I love you.
He's allowed to be tired, he ran more than me!
