Race Report - Canadian Death Race

It's Monday morning and I'm still feeling the pain of the Hamel Assault. This was leg 4 of the Canadian Death Race, a 38-km endeavour of Mt. Hamel in Grand Cache, Alberta, part of the Canadian Rockies. That mountain chewed me up and spit me back out. Months of training and preparation for my leg of the Canadian Death Race, for the most part, helped me get through one of the most grueling experiences of my life. However, nothing can prepare you for what happened in the last 15km. My spirits and my body were broken. I don't know how Joe Perry does this every year at World Toughest Mudder. Here's the breakdown:

KM 1-10: The Ascent - 6pm - The weather is roughly 14 degrees with clouds and sun. We ran the first km on flat terrain and the mountain climb began at roughly the second kilometre. It took Joe and I exactly 2 hours to summit the mountain at a decent pace. The terrain was bumpy with jagged rocks and big boulders but nothing too serious...yet. Joe and I are very competitive people but we are also very smart. We did not, as would no one, run up the mountain. It was wise to conserve energy and fast walk the summit. Any flat terrain we had, we did take advantage of it and ran the best we could. The temperature at the top was cold and windy, as we imagine all mountain peaks to be. The view was spectacular. It's that moment you take it all in and say to yourself "This is why I do these silly, adventurous things I do."

KM 11-20: The Descent - 8pm - We still have plenty of light but a thunderstorm is rolling in. It's time to pick up the pace. It was a steep climb down. Gravity takes over quickly so it's tough to keep a good footing. Remember those jagged rocks I was telling you about? It's getting serious now. I fall down hard two times. The first fall was because gravity got the best of me and the second time because I'm a klutz who doesn't know how to pick up his feet over a tree root. I'm cut up, and feeling some pain in the ribs and hips. Adrenaline takes over, disguising my pain and I can still run my pace and keep up with Joe. Near the bottom of the mountain we hit some ankle deep water that could not be avoided. Joe's Tough Mudder mindset kicks in and I'm trying to dig deep and ignore the uncomfortable feeling that is wet shoes and socks. We take one quick water and gel break for much needed energy. It took us about one hour and 30 minutes to come back down to earth.

By the way, I should mention Joe and I are passing a lot of solo and relay runners. These crazy people all have a unique story about this race in particular and stories of races past. There are some brave, crazy souls doing this race solo. Joe and I were lucky to have each other throughout this entire leg.

KM 21-38 - Ambler Loop to Beaver Dam to Finish Line - 9:30pm - The rain is beginning to fall. It's a light rain but nothing too uncomfortable. The terrain is easier to run on but we are losing daylight. The headlamps are helpful but still dampened by the effects of rain. I dressed appropriately so far and wasn't too exhausted. I have a technical t-shirt on, a with a long sleeve technical shirt over top and a jacket over this. That's three layers plus shorts and trail shoes. We thought we would be on this road until the end of our leg. Nope. We have to go back into the forest, with now no daylight left, and the rain is picking up creating some slippery slopes. When we found flat terrain it was mostly ankle deep, muddy water with some climbs and no chance of us getting our speed up. Thunder and lightning are rolling in. A flash of white light comes before me with the crack of thunder instantly behind it. "Am I hit?" I say to myself "Joe! Are you ok?" He's still up ahead about 20 feet and feeling fine. We exit the Ambler loop and come up to an aid station. I grab Gatorade and a protein bar. I'm so cold I can barely move my jaw to chew. 9km to go and it's a sprint to the end. The terrain is a flat abandoned railroad track converted to a quad trail. On a normal Southern Ontario day, even in wintry conditions, Joe and I could run this 9km in under 40 minutes. Not today...this 9km run broke me down mentally and physically. It's pitch black. The moon is covered by dark stormy clouds. Rain is coming down in buckets. Thunder and lightning would not stop. There are no street lights, no houses and no help or volunteers remotely close to us. No sign of life will be seen until the end.

We try talking to each other but it's hard to move our lips. Conversation is not an option so you are left to your own horrible thoughts. I try to keep positive and say positive mantras to myself. The mental game is just as important as your physical readiness at this point. Joe and I finally make it up to the main road where it is only 1.5km to the leg 5 checkpoint where we will pass on the coin to our final anchors of the relay team. We met up with a soloist runner who was breaking down as well. He has no support van like other soloists do. Remember, this solo runner started at 8am, doing the full 125-km on his own. As for Joe and I, 1.5km for the rest of our lives. I can't do it anymore, I want to quit. "Something is going to happen to me on this road." I kept thinking the worst thoughts. Thoughts of family back home were swirling in my head. They were going to be so mad at me if I ended up with serious complications for the rest of my life, or worse, dying on this road. All because I'm an adrenaline junky. I started to tremble and shake like never before. Joe held on to me, shook me and said "Let's go, you are doing this." I started to cry, "I can't move, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can! Let's go!"

We made it to the checkpoint. All 3 of us. I'm still in tears, now just relieved it's all over. My cheerfulness everyone saw on my Facebook live feed was totally flip-flopped just hours later. Allen Perry (Joe's son) wrapped me in blankets and took me into the warm car. He was holding onto me for physical and mental support. He has no idea how much that meant to me. Thanks again Allen. Joe and I finished that leg in 5 hours, 45 minutes. 46 and 47 best overall out of the 102 relay runners. We find out later a lot of people dropped out on the mountain leg. Our solo friend who crossed the line with us couldn't finish leg 5 but at least had the courage to keep going after leg 4. The conditions up there worsened and snow started to fall at the peak. Runners were pulled from the race if they were still on Mt. Hamel. Experienced ultra-marathoners, ones that have ran all over the world, said that our leg was the worst nightmare they have ever experienced.

We only had a 15 minute drive back to the hotel. I had a hot bath followed by a very tasty large plate of pasta. I felt like myself again. It's 3am and almost time to meet Dave and Joanne at the finish line. We crossed the finish line, all 10 of us, hand in hand. A humbling experience indeed. I was told to stay at the hotel when the team left to meet Dave and Joanne. As cold and tired as I still was, I couldn't miss this opportunity to share the ending with my team.

This was scary, perhaps life changing, yet very exhilarating. I don't know if I will do this again. It's hard to describe the difficulty of this course. One thing is for sure, I will become a stronger person because of it. Next time you are asked to do something out of your comfort zone, go for it! I do not regret a minute of this trip. All those kilometres of running and leg workout preparation for mountain racing allowed me to get me up and down that mountain with ease but nothing can prepare you for those conditions. Picture yourself climbing up a 7000ft mountain for 10km then running from Wallaceburg to Chatham, at night time during a thunderstorm. Also remember this cannot be completed casually because you are in a race. A race against other people and a race against Mother Nature. Going through hell and back teaches you perseverance. If I ever do something like this again, or if I ever have to embrace something as painful or scary as this, I will be better prepared for it.

Special thanks to everyone who helped me, guided me, encouraged me, inspired me and pushed me through this race both before, during and after. Joe Perry, Mark Childs, Sarah Cogghe, Allen Perry, MJ Perry, Dave McCaughrin, Matthew Anthony, Jason Cogghe, Leon Roegiest, Kevin O'Connor, and Joanne Johnson. And of course my family cheering back home. Mom and dad, thanks! And to everyone else cheering on Facebook watching my live feeds.