My 2021 Death Race pack list had a few modifications this year. Instead of gels, clif bars, and compression socks, I had diapers, bum butter, and the chariot toping my list. In years past, back when I was in shape, I would be gearing up for this gruelling August long weekend run as well. Armed with my camelbak, three pairs of Saucony trail runners, 2 headlamps, and Gatorade, I've attempted the Death Race 3 times - 2011, 2013, and 2016. However, I've yet to be successful in crossing the finish line, only managing to complete 103km, or 4 out of 5 legs.... which is not bad, but ultimately it's still a DNF.
For those who don't know, the Death Race is a 125km ultramarathon up in Grande Cache, Alberta. Throughout the 24 hour time limit, you summit 3 mountain peaks, cross a river, dodge bears, and accumulate 17,000ft in elevation change. It's a pretty gnarly race for even the best trained athletes. But going into it untrained, having run only a few kilometres here and there, would not only seem ridiculous, but like you're asking for imminent death. My brother, Chris, however, is one of those crazy guys that can do something like that and not only complete it, but destroy it. (And I know this because he's done it before... 3 times.)
Over drinks one night (because all great decisions are made over drinks, right?) he was telling us how he was certain all his bike training would transfer to run training, and that if he wanted to, he could be signing up for the Death Race this year... and would have, but "unfortunately" registration was already full. Well, challenge accepted. Katie (Chris' girlfriend) was on it. The e-mails were sent right then and there, and within 3 days he was signed up for the Death Race, which was to take place 4 days later.
(Take note men - never put forth a challenge like that. Women will always call you out and put you to the test.)
Unfortunately it's been a long while since I, or anyone really, has been able to take part in or watch a race... so it didn't take me more than a moment to agree to drive up for the weekend to cheer Chris on. I love races. Whether I'm there supporting an athlete or racing myself, the atmosphere and race culture is always fun and exciting. Seeing athletes push themselves to their limits, their months of training and hard work on display, is so inspiring. Plus, it would be a great opportunity to take M camping for the first time.
The only trouble was going to be camping gear. I'm currently in the process of selling my condo (so in case you or anyone else you know is in the market, it's an awesome little home!!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbAP6nYKBfg ). Anyways, it meant all my camping gear was already packed up in storage and not easy to get at in such a short period of time... and honestly, I kind of forgot about that when I agreed to go. Thankfully, Katie is always prepared and keen to share. She not only offered us an air mattress and half of her tent, but to share in all their meals as well. It's such an ordeal to travel with a toddler, so having that extra help is just the greatest thing.
The race was set to start at 8:00am on Saturday. It's a 5 stage race, each leg of varying distance from 16.5km to 38km. Leg 1 was 19km and Chris anticipated that it would be about 10:30 when he came striding in to the leg 1/2 exchange. Grande Cache is about a 4 hour drive from Edmonton, so I opted for an early morning departure instead of driving well into the darkness on Friday evening after work. Plus, I kind of like those early morning drives when the sun is just comping up. It's so peaceful to sit and sip your morning coffee, watch the sun rise in the distance, and listen to some good music knowing you'll soon be in the mountains. And it WAS a great drive... albeit a hurried one.
My plan was to leave by 6:00am so we'd be there in time to cheer Chris on at the first checkpoint. We ended up leaving at 6:15am. So, pretty close. But as it turned out, I really needed those 15 minutes. Once I started getting messages from Katie, it turned out they forgot leg 1 had been shortened by 2.5 kilometres this year (16.5km, not 19) which would put him in almost 30 minutes sooner than originally expected. So now my leisurely drive turned into a race of my own. I skipped over my desperately needed coffee in both Edson and Hinton and drove straight through to Grande Cache while suppressing my desperate need for the bathroom. Things were a bit touch and go along Highway 40 through William Switzer Provincial Park... I was exhausted after little sleep the night before (M had, of course, refused to sleep and I was up late packing) and was doing everything I could to keep my eyes open. I tried music, singing, cold air, talking on the phone.. but I think the only thing keeping me awake was my bladder. But then just as I thought I was going to make it, only 10 minutes away from my destination..... no, I didn't pee my pants, but I did get a message from Katie:
"Chris just passed through the 1/2 exchange."
Sigh... oh if only I hadn't decided to pack Chris a foot-washing station at the last minute.
Whenever I've driven to Jasper with M in the past she usually makes it until just before Edson before waking up. And by then she usually needs a diaper change and a snack. But by some miracle, M had somehow slept the ENTIRE drive...or, at least until I got that text. I usually never give her anything to eat or drink in her car seat, but she woke up hungry and I had a cup of milk chilling in the cooler just in case. Against my better judgment, I decided to give to to her... unfortunately I forgot to account for the change in altitude, and when I opened the lid.... BOOM. Milk Explosion. All over the front of my car. Can I cry now?
At least the rest of the drive, all 10 minutes of it, was uneventful. We met up with Katie and her friends at the campsite, (after a hasty bathroom stop) then made our way into town to grab coffee and breakfast before setting up shop at the 2/3 exchange.
We didn't want to miss him so made sure to arrive early. Maybe a little too early though... It's hard to keep a toddler entertained and in the immediate vicinity when there are long periods of just waiting around. I have to say, she did pretty good for the first hour or so, but then she became a little Tasmanian devil. She was running off in every which direction, and despite my attempts to lure her into staying close with a soccer ball, books, colouring, and snacks, it was getting harder and harder to reel her in.
(Waiting at the 2/3 exhange)
It was also getting into the afternoon now, and the weather was calling for mid thirties later on. A few runners had came and went, including the lead female athletes, then all of a sudden Chris came strolling in, in 12th place! We immediately got to work. Death Race leg exchanges are very comparable to what I'd imagine you'd see in a pit stop during a car race. As soon as the athlete sits down in their chair it's a mad flurry of activity - someone grabs the camelbak and re-stocks it with food and water while someone else is handing him chocolate pudding, Subway, water, pop (whatever he wants), while at the same time someone is taking off his shoes, changing his socks, washing his feet (he really appreciated the foot washing station), applying duct tape to problem areas/growing blisters, then puts his shoes back on... and then there's the one in the background filming it all. That was me, cuz you gotta have photo evidence, right?
Despite the heat, Chris kept trucking along at a pretty good pace, always keeping himself within the top 20. Meanwhile, we were running around at warp speed as well. Each leg had a different checkpoint location, none of which were in walking distance from the other. So after the completion of each leg we'd have to pack up all our support supplies, load up the cars, drive to the new location, then set up all over again. And you'd think there would be loads of time considering the distance athletes had to run, but it always felt like we were cutting it close.
Waiting at the 3/4 exchange: it was HOT and the wildfire smoke was rolling in
Leg 3/4 exchange:
I think that one of the best parts about the death race is that you run straight through into the night. As an athlete it can get a bit scary when you end up all alone on the trail. Although there are quite a few other athletes on course, it's common to have long stretches when there's nobody in sight, and all you have is your headlamp guiding the way and your brain trying to trick you into thinking something is lurking in the bushes ready to jump out at you. But as a support crew, the night legs are the best because you get to deck yourself out head to toe in glow-in-the-dark accessories. A dollar store stop where you drop a load of money on anything and everything "glow" is a necessary part of death race prep. We had glow in the dark necklaces, glasses, finger lights, wands, and various other little things. All of that, combined with cow bells and a bluetooth speaker pumping out dance jams, made for a great way to keep everyone awake. Come to think of it, I think we were the only group that had all of that going on. But I'm pretty sure everyone was into it... there's no way people were breathing a sigh of relief when we packed up and moved on after Chris cleared the checkpoint.... right?
Once we sent Chris out on the final leg ("Hell's Gate and Raft Crossing") he only had 1 river crossing and 25km left to go. At the pace he was going, he was due to finish just before 2:00am.
It'd been a long day, and we were all getting tired. But, considering Chris had already spent 14.5 hours running 100km at this point, we really had no excuse not to suck it up and keep our game face on. So we grabbed our coffees, packed up, and headed back into town to set up alongside the finish line. Well, all of us except for M. Poor M was zonked. She had managed to stay up until we sent Chris out on leg 5, but then she was toast. She ended up asleep on the grass (in a sleeping bag) right next to the finish line.
So there we sat. On the grass, bundled up in blankets and extra jackets, having a 1am beer while we stalked Chris on "find my friends". He'd taken his phone on most of the legs so we'd have an idea as to where he was and be better able to predict his arrival times. But watching that little dot slowly traverse through the trees back into town seemed to take forever! Finally he popped up from the trees and we willed him to the finish line as fast as possible. He finally rounded the last corner and came flying down the finishing shoot, urged on by our hysterical screams and cowbells, to cross the finish line at 17:57:46. A sub-18 hour finishing time, smashing his previous record by almost 2 hours and finishing as the 14th overall male, and 19th solo runner overall.
Not too shabby at all.
How incredible to see someone who was, in all honestly, secretly terrified to compete due to the fear that he actually wasn't trained enough, absolutely crush it. I remember thinking multiple times how badly I wanted to be out there racing too. But this was all about Chris and how awesome he is, and how you can do anything (even if you don't feel ready) if you put your mind to it... or push yourself so hard that you numb yourself to what you're actually doing. Just as long as you keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other.
In fact, watching Chris was so motivating that Katie and I immediately began our training once we were back in the city. Oh... did I forget to mention that during drinks that day I also agreed to sign up for the Innsbruck trail running festival ultra? Bring it on Austria. See you in May 2022!
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