I am now very grateful for all those stupid, trudgy curling club hills I did this summer in 25+°C weather. Running Light Up the World in July was good practice, and the Robert Hamilton Memorial helped me test out the mileage flat before I tackled the Moose Mountain 16 km. Come to think of it, I used a lot of what I learned from doing all those CRR cross country races over the last couple of years, too.

I did not wake up with the same nerves that I had for Robert Hamilton, but I hadn't really slept all that great either, so there was an underlying tinge of excitement as I mentally prepared myself for 16 km of trails. I was pretty sure I could DO it; I just wasn't sure how well I'd feel during and after, or how long it would take me. The waiver we had to sign when we picked up our number was REALLY long, and involved everything from avalanches and mudslides to marauding animals.

I breakfasted on leftover satay chicken from the night before (not a tested race strategy), and polished off two slices pb & peach jam toast. I picked up Nancy and Nadine (Moose Mountain virgins like myself) and we headed for the Westhills McDonalds for more protein; egg mcmuffins! There were quite a few Road Runners out there.

It was HOT out there (30°C?). I had frozen 1/3rd of my water bottle with water, and topped it up with Gatorade just before the race. I carefully applied some Body Glide, to use in places that gave me trouble during my other long, hot runs this summer. It was worth the price I paid for it! In my water belt I had stashed some Motrin (I took two just before the race), band aids, my van keys and the Sharkies (electrolyted gummies) that we'd gotten in our package.

Fellow Penguin Duncan and I started out in the back of a not really huge pack and we headed up into the shade of lots of trees. The hills at the very beginning undulated gently and got progressively more and more like a roller coaster ride. After the first 5 minutes we saw no one, and after about 15 minutes I realized that Duncan wasn't really close behind me anymore. I hovered on a couple of crests and decided that this would be a race I'd run by myself. I didn't want to go out very fast, but I had a pretty good system working with the hills, and silently wished him well as I plunged down yet another one. Walk up, run crazily down. There was an official park sign close to the beginning that said

"You are entering the Moose Mountain Trail. It is a 16 km loop. Are you ready for this?"

You bet. If I wasn't now I never would be.

Sometimes the momentum of a down run would take me all the way up the other side, sometimes not. I started to see other runners ducking around corners ahead. I caught up to two kids (grown teenagers?), one sitting on a crest, very out of breath, and the other mentioning his lack of training as he panted up. I saw one guy, very fit and rugged looking, limping back towards me. He'd turned his ankle. In the first 30 minutes I passed 5 Penguin-type sensible runners and counted 4 more rugged tough guys walking back. At least one of the DNFers was bleeding, they all looked very hot, and I don't remember any of them carrying their own water. I later heard from a good source that 12 of the 16 km racers did not finish.

I concentrated even more on my footing on the downhills, not wanting to end up like those heading back. The scenery was something I only drank in on the uphills, and I'm sure it would have been just as beautifully distracting even if I hadn't been so oxygen-deprived. Sunlight filtered by great big trees, lots of low bushes and fireweed just beginning to turn orange. Then I'd crest another wave, and have a little bit of twisty, catching-my-breath flat if I was lucky before the next plunge. An orange tank top with a knee brace came into view, and a few hills later I passed her heading down yet another steep one.

After a while I emerged from the trees into something called Homestead Flats, which had a sign telling me so, but the flat was only a relative term; it had a steady, low-degree uphill grade to it. According to my watch, the one water station should be showing up ANY MINUTE NOW, and I had very mixed feelings when I approached it. I had been plodding along at a turtle's pace, trying to ignore the really BIG hill ahead as I approached the foot of it. I heard an enthusiastic yodel up above and looked up, up, up at two itty bitty volunteers at the top. I yahoodled back, jogged two more steps and decided that volunteers or no volunteers I was NOT running up this one. I'd made it there a bit ahead of schedule, and I still had 8 km to go, eh?

Between gulps I told the volunteers about those I thought were still coming. Clown #1 slapped me on the back and joshed "Well what're you waiting for? Get going before they all catch up!" Heh, heh. Yeah, not before I filled my water bottle and doused my hat and bandana, thank you very much. I'm not really that competitive, I'm just out for the HEY, is that Orange-Tank-Top-with-Knee-Brace? Oops, gotta go. Chuckles picked up a cup of water and strode over to her as I jammed on my hat and set off. I heard him say to her "YOU look HOT! I think you need to slow down a bit and have a drink here..."

I couldn't find a rhythm for ages after the water station. I couldn't find a good, slow jog and still breathe. I thought eating my Sharkies would help, and I managed to chew them while jogging, but realized how much I really NEED my mouth to breathe. It's not like anyone was around to chide me for chewing with my mouth open, but it was a good thing I ate them while going over a flat bit.

I followed more twisty trail in and out of the trees, but there was a lot more sun in the last half. I came around a corner to a few feet of muddy bog and stopped in my tracks. Was there a dryer way? Wait a minute, I'm on a TRAIL RUN, here! Suck it up, Karen! I did, and barrelled on through.

The trails evolved into more down than up. Down, down, down! I love Gravity! I became completely absorbed in split-second decisions which involved only staying over each foot as it pounded hopefully between the obstacles. Relax! Lean into it. Focus on the next 5 feet ahead. Root, step, stone, step, root, root, step, stone, step, keep right, no left, big step, DING!, rock, DING! Uh oh, mountain bikes passing - hug the cliff. How dare they interrupt my communion with the Down! Now, where was I... Relax! Lean into it...

The flags led me onto a dusty gravel road, my feet were going numb, and the sun blazed. I caught sight of Red Shorts up ahead, and was elated. I had a new goal - reel in the Red Shorts. Not that I'm competitive or anything, Penguins aren't really like that... I passed her just as we got to the 14 km volunteer. I often have a little too much extra left at the end of races, so I thought I'd try picking up the pace just a little more, just to see. I summoned up a tiny bit of push, but it was harder holding it than I thought it would be. I tried thinking of the good luck kisses my family had given me that morning, and imagined Red Shorts gaining on me. I still couldn't see the darn finish line, but I could hear somebody breathing hard, catching up. As we crested the last hill I gave a great whoop and hightailed it in. Mr. Windbreaker Dude sprinted in and beat me by a few seconds, fair and square, and I realized he had done the 29 in under 3:04. WOW.

I actually remembered to stop my watch and was quite pleased to see that I had finished my first 16 km trail race in only 10 minutes slower than my first 16 km flat race (the Robert Hamilton) two weeks before. Considering the extra challenge of altitude, the roller coaster and the heat, I was feeling pretty good about losing only a minute per mile. Nancy high-fived me and pointed with her cookie hand to the chocolate-chip oatmeal table. I washed down my cookie with water and hovered around the finish to wait for Duncan. He finished in just the time he said he would, and I settled down to macaroni soup.

We hung around for the awards ceremony and door prizes. Good thing, too, because both Nancy and Nadine won nice sized prizes from Gord's Store. Time to change and head over to the Mountain Bistro for some real GOOD food before heading home.

Oh YEAH, I'll do it again next year. In the meantime, I'll be happy to keep in shape with the Grand Prix XC series this fall.