Banff-Jasper Relay

That was a long day. A lot of driving, and stressful as well, though mostly from my own ignorance. I needed to be at the Beauty Creek hand off well before 1:00 pm. I thought if I left before 9:00 am, I'd have plenty of time to get to my starting point. Ha!

I went over all the stuff I wanted to bring a dozen times, then out the door. I stopped for a coffee for the road before heading west. Rain had been pouring down since I got up this morning, and it wasn't slowing down. I wondered if I had enough clothes, forgetting (again!) that I usually over-dress.

Just past Olympic Park, the rain stopped, though there was lots of spray from traffic. And not much traffic. It was rather open on the TransCanada for a weekend, and I imagine the rain had a lot to do with that.

I reached the first big stress point at Jumping Pound Creek, when I realized I'd forgotten my Garmin. Gaaah! I cranked the car onto the first turn-around I found, a funky underpass, loop-the-loop thing just past the creek crossing. Back on the pavement I walked on the gas pedal, cursing mightily.

Near the pull-out opposite the big service station by the highway 22 overpass, I started thinking again. I stopped on the shoulder, and went through my bag of dry clothes and stuff, just in case I had actually put the Garmin in the pile. It was already 9:30, and going back for it would cost me an hour.

I could run without it. I did another loop-the-loop on the highway 22 clover leaf and got back on track (though still cursing mightily).

Traffic stayed relatively light all the way to Lake Louise. At the Scot Lake Hill, the deluge started anew and kept up until the highway 93 overpass to Radium. Then dry pavement. Time, meanwhile is ticking by, and this drive is taking forever.

Second stress point - construction just before Lake Louise, meaning 25 kilometres of trudging along at 70 kph. But then I was on the off ramp to 93 north, and suddenly into a Parks Canada checkpoint beside the highway, where they make sure you've got a park pass.

Third stress point - of course the guy in front of me is searching for a wallet or something, and visiting, and just generally taking his time. Back in my car, the type A personality is beginning to boil over.

Fourth stress point - you know those monster RVs, the severely under-powered ones that can't climb a mountain highway at more than a crawl? I believe there were a substantial percentage of the total North American population of them in front of me all the way to Bow Pass.

And then I caught up to the first runner on the south leg. Actually the last runner, since he was at the back of the pack. Before I knew what was slowing us down, I was rapidly approaching a fifth stress point. But yeah, these people were out here for the same reason I was, and it was very cool. I honked and cheered some of them.

It took a long time to get past them all. They were spread out over about thirty kilometres, with lots of support vehicles on the side of the highway. Doing the long climb to the Bow Pass (at almost the same speed as those damn RVs).

It was getting near noon at this point. I wasn't panicking yet. And then the RVs began to pull over one by one to various lookouts and observation points. Things began to go quite fast. At Saskatchewan Crossing, a few more pulled into the service station. I finally got to make up some time, and the Type A was settling down.

From the Crossing it was all new territory for me. I had no idea about what the road was like. I got to the switch-back that started the steep climb to the Columbia Icefield, and was extremely grateful that any RVs in front of me were a long way ahead. Then I realized that there were runners who had to climb this monster. Sheesh!

Twenty kilometres past the Icefield I caught up with the first (last) runner on the north leg. I was slowing down again and meandering past everyone, but I was going to make it before the forced start.

The force start time for my leg was 1:10. I pulled up fifteen minutes before that, hoping the runner before me hadn't been left waiting for me to hand off to. I loped over to the crowd, trying to remember what some of the people on my team looked like, and hoping they would recognize me.

The rain that began to dump at Bow Pass, had stopped just before the Crossing, and the pavement here was dry. Bob and his wife were suddenly right in front of me with safety vest and racing number. It took a couple of tries to get the vest on right, and someone graciously lent me his Garmin. I pinned the number on, made a quick trip to the portapottie, and lined up.

It turned out that the runner I was waiting for was still a couple of kilometres back. So I and a few others kicked off our leg at the forced start at 1:10 sharp.

The run itself was kind of anticlimactic. It stayed mostly dry, a little spitty, and the cloud was quite low. The scenery was pretty monotone - obscuring cloud and trees, and a long line of pavement dotted with runners and support vehicles.

Cherie and her husband Joe (she's the one I see in Starbucks all the time, and apparently he's the one that ran that nasty climb to the Icefield) leapfrogged me up the highway, with one of them occasionally running out with a water bottle. The highway is pretty straight on this leg, with long, gentle slopes. Nothing too challenging hill-wise, and I felt great. The Garmin kept saying I was running way faster than I usually do, and I was struggling to keep my speed down. But my breathing was even, and my legs felt great so eventually I relaxed into the pace.

That was pretty much it. At 15.2 km a guy with a walkie-talkie called in my team number to someone at the next hand off. I think he was supposed to be at 1 mile to go instead of 2 km, but that was OK. When the Garmin said I had about three hundred metres to go, I stretched out my stride a little. It was a long descending curve to the right, and it seemed to take forever to see the handoff gate around the trees.

And then I was at the gate, and some guy was reaching toward me. I slapped his hand, he took off and I slowed to a walk. Another great run!

The distance is listed at 17.3 km, and the Garmin said I had been running about an hour and thirty two minutes, which Bob confirmed. There was a cold breeze and he unfolded a foil racing blanket which I draped around my shoulders. Cherie handed me a water bottle, and someone took a picture. Then we walked back to Bob's car, where he handed me some cookies and a banana. I felt fabulous.

At his car, I realized the foil sheet I was draped in was spattered with the logo of the Boston Marathon. I really want a copy of that picture. Bob invited me to join then on their Sunday morning runs, dropped me off at my car, and that was that. I didn't bother to change, since I had dodged the rain and was still dry.

The drive home was mostly uneventful. I had to stop at the Crossing for gas. $1.63/l, so I put fifteen bucks worth in, and hoped it was cheaper in Lake Louise (it was - $1.31/l). I was home by 6:30, crashed on the couch by 6:35. An hour later, I showered and ate, and then discovered that I had not included pants in my change of clothes. Glad I didn't have to change.

If I do this again, I'll get a hotel room up there. Seven hundred kilometres of driving to run seventeen kilometres makes a long day. But it was worth it. Great fun and I may be part of a new running group, too. How cool!

I'm going to use the hour and thirty two minutes for my stats:

Distance: 17.3 km. Time: 1:32:00.
Average speed: 11.3 kph (5:32 min/km).

Shoes: New Balance 1061.

Weather: Cloudy and 8C.