As far as 100ks go this one was relatively easy; straight, flat, paved, and aid stations every five kilometers. Still, one-hundred kilometers is a long way to go, and I understood that.
Although the Niagara Ultra hosts a 10k, half-marathon, marathon, and 50k race annually, the 100k is held every other year. Starting at historic Niagara-on-the-Lake, the out-and-back course follows the Niagara Parkway Recreational Trail south to Niagara Falls with various turn-around points for the different distances in between. The 100k race covers the full course twice.
This area of Southern Ontario, at least the portions beyond the reach of Niagara Falls' kitschy sprawl, is a fascinating mixture of beautiful scenery and colonial history. The route was peppered with monuments, historic structures, vineyards, dizzying bluffs, and, of course, a nice little waterfall.
Race Day
I wore a Camelback-style water pack, a pouch around my waste (let's be real, a FANNY PACK) with a small bottle of Skratch Labs fluid in the holster, some energy gels, and a granola bar stuffed in various pockets, and a technical t-shirt. Since this was my first 100k the game plan was to hammer out the first 50k and then pause to reassess what I did and did not need. My wife, Cricket, would meet me at that halfway point and I would let her know if I required her help at subsequent aid stations. Ultimately I would, and she would be absolutely invaluable to me.
Pre-race speeches were emotional as a portion of the money generated went to help Mandy Bridson, wife of a local ultra-runner, fight cancer. Although I am still consider myself new to the Ultra scene, I've already seen how tight-knit this niche corner of the running community is, and whether we are helping each other on the course or off of it, friends or strangers, we are there for each other.
CLICK HERE for Bridson's story and how to help.
Race Start to 25k
The morning was clear and cool, perfect for running, and I intended to take advantage of the mild weather by starting out at a brisk pace before having to slog through the afternoon heat I knew lay ahead. This strategy backfired immediately because, about 200 meters out of the gate, we all took a wrong turn. I stuck with the lead pack and by the time a bicycler was able to turn us around I suddenly found myself at the very back. Some people were quite angry about the mix-up, but I thought it was hilarious. In a one-hundred kilometer race I wasn't going to cry about a couple extra Ks, and it didn't take long for the faster runners to get back to the front.
We soon passed the walls of Fort George, the site of several battles between the British and the United States during the War of 1812. American forces were able to take control of the fort in May of 1813, but they would abandon it in December of that same year. The site has been restored and, for the purposes of this race, served as an encouraging landmark to let us know relief was just around the corner.
Our trail eventually connected with the Recreational Trail that would take us to the Falls. It runs parallel with the Niagara River and, through breaks in the trees, I could see the USA on the other side. I know there is a lot of sad things going on on that side of the river right now. I read the news, and the news is tense. But from where I stood all I could see from across the border were gorgeous bluffs, a churning river, a rising sun, and nature on full beautiful display. It sort of put things in perspective, like astronauts viewing Earth from afar.
The next point of interest was the Living Water Wayside Chapel, apparently the world's smallest chapel. It was, indeed, a very small chapel.
After passing several vineyards we came to the community of Queenston where our course took us down residential streets. Along the way we passed the restored Laura Secord Homestead. Laura Secord is a Canadian folk hero who, during the War of 1812, caught wind of an impending American attack and, running a marathon of her own, traveled twenty miles on foot to warn her fellow countrymen. The attack was successfully repelled and, for her efforts, a chocolate company was named after her.
Once through the quaint little neighborhood we came to only significant hill of the course at Queenston Heights Park. It's peak can be seen from some distance away as it is marked by a towering monument to Canadian war hero Sir Isaac Brock, who was killed nearby during the War of 1812 in the Battle of Queenston Heights. The hill itself was not terribly difficult to ascend and, in my first pass, I was easily able to run it in its entirety (making up some time and positioning I lost during an early bathroom break).
The most difficult stretch of the route, in my opinion, was the portion that spanned the massive hydroelectric power plant built along the river. Nearly a kilometer long, this segment of the trail crossed atop a very exposed, shadeless, concrete dam. It got hot. But, void of trees, that was where I had the best look at the Niagara River far below and the sheer-faced American bluffs on the other side. The view, and probably the rising temperatures, made me dizzy and I kept my eyes straight ahead.
My pack remained full of water and my pouches full of sustenance and I blew through the aid stations without stopping. Even though the morning coolness was waning I still felt fresh and comfortable. The lead pack had stretched out by the time I reached the 20k point and I found myself in fourth position.
Niagara Falls is designed for tourists. This was apparent to me as I crossed the city limits. The cheap hotels come first, followed by pricier ones. All of them advertise their proximity to the Falls. Novelty museums next. Tours. Tour buses. Zip lines. It's all a mess. But people come because they have to. It's Niagara Falls. They have to. Even myself, I AM HERE RUNNING A NIAGARA FALLS RACE, for goodness sakes. It's all so cheesy, but endearingly so. This is an important corner of Canada, and for all its money-grabbing crassness there remains a vestige of pride for these parts. After all, who goes to the American side to see the Falls?
During the pre-race meeting the race director told us to hug the stone wall when we approached the 25k turnaround lest we stay on the road and miss it completely. The stone wall, of course, lines the concourse where ALL the tourists gather to see the Falls. When I approached that turnaround at 8:30 a.m. the flock of sightseers was already quite substantial, but I had little problem darting between and around them. I crossed the chip-timing pads and, without stopping, turned around to head back. I was in third place.
25k to 50k
It had not occurred to me that, as this was an out-and-back course, I would encounter everybody doing the same race plus a lot of people doing the other shorter runs. We are all obliged to encourage each other and, as others gave me good lucks and good jobs, I offered the same. Soon I started losing my voice and had to resort to the universally acknowledged thumbs-up. Thumbs-up plus a hoarse grunt. That means you're doing awesome.
This stretch was rather eventless until I returned to the hills of Queenston Heights. As I neared a road crossing I saw two motorcycles slowly approaching. I safely crossed, but behind me they stopped to talk to the race marshal and I could overhear some of their conversation. This is the front of a motorcycle parade, they said. Hundreds of bikers are going to roll through. Nobody's will be able to cross for a while. And indeed, as I glided back downhill through the park, all around on the nearby roads I could hear those loud popping engines and tinny motorcycle radios.
After about 35 kilometers I began losing steam, and at about 40 I hit my first wall. Apparently my body thought I was running another 42k marathon and was shutting itself down after a race well run. I alternated between jogging and walking and muscled my way back to the 50k halfway point. I was going to need some help.
50k to 75k
Cricket was waiting for me with food and some various necessities well-organized and spread out on the ground. I ate some grapes and decided they were the best-tasting grapes I had ever had in my life. I didn't even want anything else, I just wanted grapes. I took some apple sauce anyway (it went down easy) and stashed a few more gels in my fanny pack. Also I changed out of my sweaty t-shirt and into a much more airy tank top. Finally, I decided to ditch the water pack and opted instead to carry a water bottle in my hand. I headed back out feeling refreshed, but I had spent over 10 minutes pulling myself back together. I was in fourth place.
My second-half strategy was simply to make it from aid-station to aid-station and landmark to landmark. Anything to take my mind off the fact that everything I just ran I had to do again.
Cricket met me at the 60k, 65k, and 70k aid stations and we eventually got ourselves into a good routine. She would talk to the volunteers ahead of time and let them know what I needed, and when I arrived I would grab some grapes and oranges and soda and have my fluids refilled. Everybody said I was looking good, but by this point I was alternating between long walks and slow jogs and feeling every bit of the noonday heat.
Soon people started telling me I was in second place. At first I thought they were mistaken as I definitely hadn't passed anybody. But as I neared the 75k turnaround only one lead runner passed me going the other way. I would have to check with the volunteers at that station to see what was going on.
Getting to that turnaround point was something of a challenge, but it was the most fun I had the entire run. Niagara Falls, on this warm sunny Saturday afternoon in June, was absolutely packed with people. It had been crowded the first time, but now I found myself cutting across grass and running atop ornamental boulders and pulling football jukes so I wouldn't crash into baby strollers or smear wandering old ladies.
I made it unscathed to the aid station and paused to ask about my placement and also to enjoy the cool waterfall mist. The volunteers told me, yes, I was number two. Two people in front of me had dropped out. I thanked them and turned around to tackle the last long stretch.
75k to 100k
As I zig-zagged through the tourist mob I saw a few other runners also approaching the turnaround, hot on my tail. They all looked solid and I had no illusions about maintaining my position. This was, after all, my first 100 kilometer race and I would be happy enough just to finish. But first, of course, I had to finish.
I met Cricket again at the aid stations. We were getting fairly efficient with our stops, and the volunteers were very helpful and encouraging. Still, I was worn, sunburnt, and developing some wicked shin splints. I was ingesting foods and gels and liquids constantly, anything to carry me to the next station.
With ten kilometers to go a runner caught up with me, and we ran together for a while. With five kilometers to go another caught up, and the two runners took off ahead to race each other to the finish. I was tapped and let them go.
After ensuring nobody else was going to sneak up behind me I loosened up and made it a point to enjoy these final moments of the race. Picnickers, bicyclers, recreational walkers, and runners from the other races were all giving words of encouragement. The heat was ebbing a bit. The scenery was still beautiful. I passed Fort George for the final time.
I cruised into the chute. Only a sparse crowd remained, but that was okay. They cheered all the same. The announcer called my name as I rolled in, I crossed the finish line smiling, and that was it. No dramatic tumbles at the end, no blood or tears. I nodded at the runners who had already finished, hugged my wife, then sat down and had a beer.
I know I wouldn't have done nearly as well without Cricket. We really were a team and the support she gave was medical, practical, nutritional, as well as emotional. She was out there cheering me on and honking the horn when she passed me on the road. She gave play-by-play on Facebook so my friends and family could follow along. She took my shoes off when I couldn't reach them and helped me out of my chair when my legs stopped cooperating. I am as proud of her as she is of me.
Although I am happy with how my first 100k turn out, I am not completely satisfied. It's just the way I am. I need to do it faster. I need to better utilize the time I spend making pit stops. I need to finish stronger. I need to run smarter. I need to not make wrong turns at the beginning of the race. Etc.
But I learn, I train, and then I try again.
LINKS:
Niagara Ultra website
Race Results
Donate to Mandy Bridson
LINKS:
Niagara Ultra website
Race Results
Donate to Mandy Bridson
