Banff Jasper Relay

The dreaded Big Bend! This is what happens when you volunteer to do whichever leg they need a runner. No one wants to do this one, cuz you climb 400 metres in the first 5.5 kilometres. It's a pretty relentless climb, and I wasn't sure I was up to it.

I wasn't sure I was even ready to try that morning. I barely slept at all. I got to my hotel at Lake Louise late, and grabbed a late dinner that kept me tossing and turning. Getting up at 4:30 in the morning, all I had for breakfast was a banana and some grapes before I drove the hour and a half to the starting point of the north half of the relay, at Saskatchewan Crossing. I got another banana and coffee, thinking that was about all I could handle about then.

I managed to find some of my other team members, and we susssed out a plan for supporting runners and ferrying vehicles along the route. At 7:00 the first set of runners were off.

Once they had disappeared around the bend, people dispersed to get some breakfast or where ever. I talked a little more with my team mates, and then drove to the first hand off. The first leg was about sixteen and a half kilometres, and our runner was only thirteen minutes past the forced start. Actually a really good run for someone who just started running less than a year ago.

We sorted out some changes about who was driving what and drove to the next hand off point - my start.

Once there, we had about an hour before we thought our runner would arrive. I dithered a bit about how to dress, and decided to go with shorts and tee, with a vest. Over that I wore the required high visibility vest and pinned on my number. I did some stretching and ran up the highway a couple of times, trying to loosen up and settle down.

From the curve in the highway that gives the Big Bend leg its name, the highway slithers up the side of the mountain at what looks deceptively like a gentle slope. From our starting point you can see about a kilometre of it before it curves around the mountain side.

Our runner made great time, showing up well before the forced start time and accompanied by lots of excited loud cheering from all of us waiting at the hand off. In fact he was 19 minutes ahead of the forced start for my leg, so I got a great start ahead of many of the teams. After he handed off to me, I got a loud cheering start from everyone and started down the highway.

The shoulder is terrifically narrow all the way up the first couple of kilometres or so. I tried hard to keep my pace even, pushing enough to make some headway, but paying attention to my breathing, two steps to inhale, two steps to exhale. If I couldn't maintain that rhythm, I would know it meant I was pushing too hard. Just to maintain a good pace it seemed more important to focus on that than on what the GPS was telling me about pace.

I had set up my GPS as usual for a long run, intending to take a one minute walk break for every nine minutes of running. When the alarm went for the first walk break I kept running. This run required a full commitment, so every ten minutes when the walk break alarm went off, I ignored it.

Around the first corner, the road steepened even more. Two hundred metres of that and my calves were aching. I had a knot forming in my hip too, but none of these aches were enough to slow me down. I think my body was telling me that what I was doing was harder than usual.

I pulled back my pace a little to maintain my breathing rate, and runners began to pass me. I fully expected that. On this leg, I think many teams put their strongest runners. Also the slight drizzle that had accompanied me up the long stretch from the start, had turned into a bit of a downpour, then a blizzard. A wind had come up to drive the sleet some, and it stung my bare arms and legs, and my face, and the sound of it hitting my racing number rattled like sand in the wind.

It didn't last. About the time the slope eased considerably the sun came out, and the temperature climbed. The wind died as well. This kind of thing continued throughout the entire run. We were subjected to every kind of weather possible, through several cycles.

This easy slope, though still going upward, was a great relief for the calves. And by the time I reached it, my hip had stopped bothering me as well. About this time the GPS finally locked on the satellites again. It had lost connection near the first curve, so had lost about three kilometres of distance in its register.

The support crew was great, and the first few times they were out with cameras, so I hammed it up as much as I could. I was feeling really good, maybe even a little cocky, so it wasn't too hard. I had them stopping every kilometre and a half so I could get some water, and it gave me another kind of measure of my progress too.

The road steepened once more, enough to get my calves complaining again. It felt like I'd been climbing forever, but I also felt like time was going by pretty swiftly. I tried to remember to look around once in awhile. It's a beautiful place to run. The cloud stayed high, so I could see the mountains. There was lots of snow, and the creeks and waterfalls were full and flowing noisily. Sometimes I could hear the roar of water from somewhere close by.

I finally reached the summit, although I wasn't sure. I didn't see a marker, and I don't know if there is one. But the highway started a downward slope, and I could feel the relief of the pressure in my calves . Runners continued to pass me every once in awhile, and the weather cycled through the hot sun/pouring rain/driving blizzard cycle what seemed like every ten minutes. I met the support team and had a drink every mile or so.

About three kilometres to go, I felt the downward slope more strongly. It wasn't steep, but it was definitely downward now. I lengthened my stride. At the last stop of the support team, I waved off the water, and said I'd see them at the end. I could see the building that holds the restaurants and souvenir shops of the icefields; the highway curving to the left. The big glacier came into view about the same time I resolved the hand off point. I glanced over every once in awhile; it's a pretty commanding sight.

As I got close to the hand off lane, I saw someone waiting for me - I had beat the forced start! That was totally unexpected. I hadn't thought I'd be anywhere near fast enough on that climb to get to the end before they started the remaining runners at the designated time. As it turned out I was twelve minutes ahead of it. Just unbelieveable!

I slapped the next runner's hand and he took off. I ran out through the lane and a couple of team mates were there with cameras and water bottles. I was elated at how well I'd done, and at how good I felt.

I think this was my strongest, most solid run ever. I had tackled the toughest leg on one long relay through some very challenging terrain, and I'd done pretty darn good.

Here's the elevation profile for the leg I ran from the runner's manual Dig that first six kilometres:

Because the GPS lost satellite contact, I'll use my time with the stated distance of the run.:
Distance: 15.78 Time: 1:37:21
Average speed: 6:10 min/km. (9.73 kph)
L n K!
Shoes: New Balance 769 (Yellow 2).
Weather: just about everything possible in the mountains.