In 2010, I stopped running.
I don’t know exactly why, maybe I had achieved some of my goals, or grown out of it? I was only 22.
When I started running again in late 2018, I had no idea what I was getting myself back into. I was out of shape, and I wanted to see if I still had it.
Little did I know that 3 years later I would toe the line at one of the hardest trail races in the world.
It didn’t just happen over night, there was a long, and painful rediscovery,
My last trail run might have been the 2010 KneeKnacker, also likely the last I laced up a pair of trail shoes.
I put on my circa 2010 New Balance v10 minimalist shoes and went for a familiar loop. I felt every pebble on the trail, and I don’t think I could walk properly for 3 or 4 days. I was 40 pounds heavier, and 100% more out of shape.
Time for a new pair of “comfort” shoes, settling on a new pair of New Balance Hierro V5s, plenty of foam and squish.
Starting out slow, rediscovering my old favourite routes such as Lynn Loop, NorVan Falls, Seymour Grind/Old Buck. I was finding running for just an hour a big chore. 10km was leaving me sore and completely demoralized.
That summer I spent more time running in circles at the Mahon Track than I did in the mountains. Running was much more about getting in shape than enjoying myself.
Then in December of 2019, a group of friends decided it would be fun to enter the KneeKnacker lottery. There was roughly a 40% chance to get selected, as the famous North Shore sufferfest had become increasingly popular since I last ran in 2008 and 2010.
Fast forward to February of 2020. Piet, Ryan, Mike, Steve and I sat at the new Joey Shipyards, and watched the lottery Facebook posts roll in.
Piet, Ryan and myself were all selected.
I was running the KneeKnacker in 2020. 10 years after I toed the line last.
Or so I thought.
COVID came on quick, and I was one of the first ones to get it in March of 2020. Sick as a dog for 2 weeks, lungs full of fluid for 2 more afterwards.
Getting back on the trails was easy this time around; there were no distractions.
Couldn’t hang out at friends houses, no hockey, no sports on TV.
I was finally finding my form, enjoying how lucky I was to have the North Shore mountains just minutes away.
I was building nicely, 10km was becoming the norm, 20kms on weekends.
The technical running was always there, especially because I had continued to mountain bike casually over my 10 year running hiatus.
I was also good at the downhills, uphill climbs I was very average, and I was slow, and I mean slow, on the flats.
No cadence, no turnover, nothing. Just a slow ultra shuffle.
Time to fix that.
Insert ROAD RUNNING.
Wow I hated it. But it was a necessary evil. 2 to 3 times a week I found a lap around Lower Lonsdale that I would do, just to work on my running economy and turn over. Plus I could do it comfortably at night.
After a couple of weird months (remember, early COVID?) my road running was paying off. I was getting FAST on the trails.
Now, we’re not talking like winning KneeKnacker fast, but fast for a 32 year old weekend warrior who hadn’t run for 10 years.
Then the announcement came that we were all expecting.
KneeKnacker 2020 was cancelled due to the COVID-19 Pandemic.
It obviously wasn’t surprising, but it was sad. I was feeling strong, strong enough to race, and likely improve on my 6:33:39 PR from 2010. There was always 2021 (so I thought).
I continued running, reuniting with my cousin Sarah now, who is an extremely accomplished runner, cyclist, and overall body mover.
We make a good duo, never stop talking, like similar things, and both enjoy getting our ass kicked by the North Shore mountains.
In late July, trail friends Piet, Murray, Sarah and myself decided to just run the KneeKnacker course anyway.
We had done the training, we were ready.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and we cruised the entire course in around 7.5 hours, self-aided with strategic food stash at Cleveland Dam.
Sarah and I both thought by 2021 the pandemic would be a thing of the past, and wow how wrong were we.
We began looking at the race calendar, circling races. Sarah was all systems go for Ironman, myself for KneeKnacker.
As the months rolled on by, everything was still cancelled.
So we set our sights on goals without restrictions.
Insert the Van100 put on by Club Fat Ass.
It’s a grassroots event, with no registration fee, no official times, and no support.
Perfect for our COVID lifestyle.
The Vancouver 100 (Van100) is essentially a double KneeKnacker, or a double Baden Powell.
Starting in Deep Cove you run to Nelson Canyon Park, turn around and run back. Roughly 100km and 5500m of elevation.
The tricky bit is how technical and unrelenting the entire course was.
One KneeKnacker is very hard, two is downright insanity.
We made it our goal in late 2020 to run the Van100 on July 5th 2021.
We would change our training plan to focus on “time on feet” and elevation over speed.
No breaks over winter, we just couldn’t afford it. Both Sarah and I had never done anything remotely close to this distance.
I believe my longest day was 44km, Sarah’s around 50km.
Over the winter, we crushed many snow runs, some more enjoyable than others.
In December our sufferfest training really began with runs like Seymour and Lynn Peak combos.
Extremely tough climbs and descents, mixed with some flat running. You never really were given a chance to just relax.
But this was good, you have to pay your dues or you’re going to get smoked on race day.
Training was going great. Legs were strong, our shoes, packs and poles were all getting dialed in.
Van100 was starting to feel possible.
At the same time, I started realizing that my strength wasn’t the fast, light racing distances. I got stronger as the day got longer.
Interesting.
We capped off winter with an extremely wet, but rewarding Cleveland Dam to Deep Cove Return.
We smoked it.
Van100 can’t be that hard, it’s only double that! And the first half is twice as hard as the second!
Sometimes when things are going super well, you almost know that something has to go wrong, and it did.
I have had a bad nose my entire life. A combo of hockey and bad genetics, left me with a nose that wasn’t straight, and outside of smell, didn’t really work. A lifelong mouth breather at night. During the day, I had basically no airflow through my nose.
I had surgery booked in the early fall of 2020. It was cancelled due to COVID that summer.
In March 2021, I received an unexpected call from my surgeon. There was an opening, April 11th 2021.
Literally 7 weeks before Van100.
I didn’t really have choice but to take the date.
I was so torn. Fix my nose, or lose the thing that I had been training for months for. Seemed like a no-brainer, but the effort and time invested in running was daunting to think about.
Was this all going to be for nothing?
7 weeks out, I was devastated. I told Sarah that I was still in, but deep down I was totally conflicted.
My doctor had said I’d be out minimum 3 weeks, and realistically 6 weeks before full exercise.
That would give me 1 week to “get ready” for a 100km run.
The surgery went well, but man I was a mess.
It felt like I got hit in the head with a baseball batt.
Everything hurt, but I was lucky I had my Mum, Sharon(a nurse) and my wife Claire to take care of me.
After a few painful weeks, I felt good enough to try and get out for a run.
With my doctors approval I went on a run with Sarah and Josh, to the famous Underhill.
A 4 hour, 25km, 1500m bushwhack to a lookout up Indian Arm.
Many mistakes were made.
- New Shoes … which were too small.
- New Nose … was not healed.
- Not enough water… was so humid
- Not enough food… couldn’t chew solid foods quite yet
- Way to hard for first run back
Now this was a sufferfest for me, but there was a silver lining.
Shortly after crossing a river, we ran into a familiar fellow that was doing the same route as us solo.
His name was Richard!
Richard/Rich continued with us up Underhill and we swapped stories, and I quickly realized, I have read this guys Van100 race recap!
After struggling for nearly 4.5 hours, we got back to our car at Deep Cove, and I was defeated.
My nose burned, my left big toenail was for sure falling off. My confidence was shattered.
There was no way I was going to be able to run the Van100 in a month.
Rich, who had already finished the Van100, I’m sure was thinking,
“Who is this outta shape guy with new shoes and a new nose, and he’s wanting to do 100km? Is he crazy?”
Well Rich was crazy enough to be convinced to join us on Van100, Josh too! Albeit mostly off Sarah’s never ending enthusiasm.
Fast forward a week, and I was healing quickly.
Determined, I texted Josh, Rich and Sarah, put forward the idea of running the last 1/2 of the KneeKnacker, or last 1/4 of the Van100.
Redemption time! I felt great. Blasting the flats, hills I felt like a new person.
It was crunch time, I had 2.5 weeks left to train, and I was going to make the most of it.
First we did an extremely tough Cypress and Grouse Mountain run.
Lot’s of snow and vert was great for our legs. We would be running this exact section in a few weeks, so familiarizing ourselves with the current conditions was key.
The next week an equally hard first 1/4 with our new friend Laura who would also be joining us for Van100.
Nelson Canyon to Whyte Lake is so humid and muggy, no matter what time the day in the summer. You’re saturated almost minutes into the run.
Then comes the beast. Black Mountain.
Just a monster of a climb.
Over 1100m in just under 8kms. Some places get to nearly 45 degrees. I still can’t for the life of me understand how KneeKnacker winners do this section in roughly 50 minutes.
We were taking it easy, remembering in a few weeks, we would first have to descend this beast ~40km into our run. Then quickly turn around and climb right back up.
Passing through Cypress for the second time in two weeks the heatwave had taken its toll.
The overall snowpack had shrunk by about 20%. But there was still a lot there, and we knew it was not going to fully disappear over the next two weeks. Hollyburn Ridge was going to be a chore in both directions.
Running through Brothers Creek that day I was excited. Chatting with our crew as we cruised down toward the British Properties I found myself truly enjoying running again.
That feeling when you’re in good enough running shape that moving feels easy.
Your legs just turnover, the muscles conditioned to the beating they’re taking.
A sensation only someone who runs a lot knows.
I was “ready”. In my mind at least I was.
I had no idea how I managed to pull this off, but I had my confidence back, my nose was fine, my legs strong. No major injuries.
Taper time. Time to roll.
It had taken two years, but I was back. I was a runner again.
Read part 2, There and Back Again, click here
