The Canadian Death Race – Training for an Ultra marathon in 3 Months

This isn’t my usual style of post for this blog because I usually like the articles to be more informative then about myself, but I’m going to try and cover both for those who have thought about running an ultra marathon. About a month ago I ran the first foot race of my life in Grande Cache, Alberta who hosts a race by the north face called ” The Canadian Death Race ” ( Sounds fun right!? ).

[ This is a picture of my race tag after three legs of torture. Somehow I ended up getting a " Trevorian instead of " Trevor ", but luckily coming off the mountain the announcer got it right! ]

Becoming an Ultra marathon Runner

Now I’m not a long distance runner and I have never been any good at running long distances not to mention 125kms with two major mountain peaks and 17,000 feet in elevation change. I seen this race on the internet three years ago and me and my friend Brock Fee decided 6 months before the race that we were finally going to sign up for this bad boy.

At the time I knew the race was tough and I knew I couldn’t run very well, but it was the ultimate challenge and it says ” death ” in the title so I couldn’t resist. At this time I was also starting to train for a kick boxing tournament while doing some minimal treadmill running, but I eventually realized the two were not going to mix I would just end up doing terrible at both events.

At this time there was about 3 months left and I was in much better shape then usual, but I had yet to run for any real amount of distance and started to realize just how deep of a hole I had dug myself. I started training regularly to the best of my ability forcing myself to go for runs and after about 10 days I started to search online for a running coach who might be crazy enough to help me get through this race.

I went through a few different websites, but I stumbled upon one guy by the name of Howard Nippert and I immediately knew this was the one. Not only was Howard a very accomplished runner, he also had a shaved head and an awesome handle bar mustache which told me this guy was all about hard work and looking really badass while running.

Howard got back to me immediately because he knew how urgent this was and he was game if I was. He had me fill out some information so he knew what he was dealing with then began making my training routines based on what he knew about me and the Canadian death race.

After around 80 days of training and learning all about the sport through forums and Howard’s advice I was starting to feel like I was in fact a runner and maybe I could drag my half dead body to the finish line if I could endure the pain of it all. Not once did Howard tell me it wasn’t possible and supported me right up to the race.

The Morning of the Death Race

Freezing and sleep deprived I walked out of tent city scrambling to get all my gear together and cover my legs and feet in Vaseline to avoid losing some skin and prolonging the post race pain even further.

We hopped in the car and drive down to the check in area and luckily we found a good spot to park right by where the race starts, which is convenient because not having a support crew there is very limited spots to place your supplies if you don’t want to carry it all along with you.

After checking in and making sure we had all the required gear we met up with vegan Mike, after a few encouraging words and a round ” knucks ” we were ready to do this thing. Hundreds of us lined up and there was a huge crowd of spectators cheering us on as the clock counted down and we were on our way.

Leg 1/ 19km: I enjoyed this leg because I was fresh and could get moving to beat the chill and adrenaline of waiting for the race to start for several days. I believed this leg was going to be mostly flat, but it was full of rolling hills and coming down into gravel roads as we all cross the highway.

People honked and screamed as we crossed the highway and the whole towns enthusiasm behind this race was just insane, but things were not all puppies and rainbows…

Leg Two: I time in with my timing stick and run through a mob of spectators and support crews for the runners to get to the aid station and refill my water and grabbed a little something to eat on the run. I opened a bag of hickory sticks and dumped them in my mouth and then  crammed a large mars bar in right after it trying to refuel as quickly as I could.

I was right on pace and felt good, but little did I know leg two was going to live up to it’s name and then some. I knew ahead of time the mountain was going to be difficult, but never did I imagine it would be that challenging because the mountain just never stopped it was up up and up.

After a few hours of endless hills I started to have trouble because we were getting so high up that the altitude was effecting my ability to get enough oxygen and it got worse before it got better as I was soon to find out.

I then came to a set of dirt stairs up a goat trail and this thing went just straight up it was insane. They had some sort of satanic name that I seem to of forgotten, but whatever it was it was a fitting name.

Taking a quick breath I had a little snack at the top and admired the view and was on my way down, but sadly this just meant I was going to have to go up again even higher. I was pushy my body to the maximum to get this leg done and it suddenly became very clear why so many people don’t get past the second leg.

Later on in the race after lots of pain and suffering I realized I was out of water and it was damn hot. I had expected to of hit the aid station by this time, but it was nowhere to be found so I started pleading for a creek coming off the mountain. Five minutes later my prayers were met and I found a quick moving stream started filling my pack and soaking my face and awesome headband.

I think I made a lot of racers run more memorable because many found it a little crazy and the other half ( obviously from the city ) warned me of beaver fever from fast running fresh mountain water? Not a chance. Anyways go figure 3kms later of pure vertical climbing I found the aid station had a few snacks and kept heading up.

Once I reached the summit of this last climb to the top I went around and gave the guy my number and looked at the canyon like descent and ascent ahead of me. It was like 3kms long and you could see the whole thing it looked insane, but this made me smile because I knew this kind of craziness is exactly why I entered.

I could write a whole book on how much worse it got and how some of the descents were so steep people were falling on there face or how I seen people in pain being carried away or even competitors who were just broken crying on the side of the trail, but lets move on.

Coming back in to town I slowed right down thinking I could preserve myself enough to run leg 3 and be back on track because I was behind. I ran the last stretch over to where the race started and the hundreds of spectators were there cheering me on and the announcer called my name and location.

Now this is where things got dicey. My friend B-roc had just been to the car which is where we left our lights and night stuff and some solid food to reduce our load during the first 2 legs ( This is allowed ). The problem was B-roc left me just a key chain in the gas cap and not the key to the car.

I felt rough from the heat and brutal leg 2 of the race and now I couldn’t go past the 3rd leg. I sat for 20 minutes considering smashing the window, but I decided not to and set out on leg 3 knowing my race would be over when I arrived at the finish. This whole leg was not how I had imagined it. It is not flat there is tons of ups and downs and hills and sketchy rocks.

Half way through I knew I was in trouble I wasn’t hungry all I wanted was water and was so turned off by the sour Gatorade earlier. There was lots of bear/ cougar tracks and crap on the ground, but I was too busted up to care even when other runners mentioned it every now and then when I ran into them.

Near the end of the leg I ran into a guy who was in a similar state as me and opted to just finish the race with him because time was not a concern at this point and I knew even with my gear I wouldn’t have made it up leg 4 short of a miracle. Coming off the tracks then across the highway we stumbled into the leg 3 exchange and my Canadian death race journey had ended.

I was beaten up and had no idea at the time how I would even get back to camp. I was informed there was a free shuttle and was greeted by a nice guy ( forget his name ) ” Another customer ”  Yep that’s me. Id of given him my leg at this point for a ride. He offered me a coke and chocolate bar which he informed me he had been living off for the day. I took him up on his offer. Myself and one or two others went with him back to town and he offered to take me to get a burger or whatever I needed, but I didn’t want to be a pain and just got him to take me back to tent city.

I still remember saying hi to a guy there drinking a beer and limping back to my tent and asked him how he was doing ” I feel like you look ” was his reply I believe. I thought that was pretty funny and headed back to my tent rolled up in a blanket on the grass outside the tent freezing.

I look over to my left and sure enough hobbling along is B-roc who seemed pretty relieved I didn’t want to kill him for losing the car key and putting me out of the race.

( I plan to update this post and EDIT it, more details and people I met and what to expect. I will even fill in more details of mine and Brocs journey after the race if people are interested just leave me a comment. Thanks )