Magic number 50
Yes, I have a magic number. Now it’s not magic in that I believe it has any supernatural traits. No, it’s actually more like this number gives me the ability to remember what I am capable of when I am feeding off of my last ounce of energy, physically or mentally. Repeating this number to myself, as if invoking my brain for some special power it didn’t realize it had, is a way of getting myself through some tough challenges. So what is my magic number? Well up until August 10th it was 42 ( and if I am going to be really specific 42.2). That’s right in kilometers that is the distance of a marathon, of which I have run 2. This is no great feat, as many people have run this distance, but it does provide a keen sense of mental awareness of what your body can achieve. Just knowing the distance you can push your body to run, translates to being able to push yourself in so many other aspects of life. For myself it has become a mantra I say to myself when the going gets tough. During a long hard day in the mountains I can draw energy from this number, if I can run that distance surely I can tackle the physical and mental challenge I currently find myself facing. What happened August 10th? Well that was the day of my first 50km ultra trail race, the Arc”teryx Squamish 50. I tried to post updates regarding my training as the months passed, but as I mentioned in a previous post, this did not pan out as well as I hoped it would. Nonetheless race day came, despite my inability to catalog the months and days leading up to the race. So here are a few thoughts on how that day went. Race day was forecast to be 28 degrees (celcius) but feel like 31, so I was concerned about running in the heat. But when I woke up to a cloudy sky in Squamish I was so thankful! Driving down to catch the bus to our respective races, Leigh to his 23km starting line at Quest and me to the 50km start at Alice Lake, we could see the sun streaming through the clouds above the chief. Beautiful though it was, I hoped that the sun would duck back behind the clouds for just a few more hours. Arriving at the start line, with 1/2 an hour to spare, I seen the familiar faces of friends also running the race. It helped to calm the nerves, just a little bit, and the excitement...
Running the Arc’teryx Squamish 50 23k
Photos by Lesley Morgan Loree Photos by Lesley Morgan Loree On Saturday, the 10th of August, I ran in my first ever race, road or trail, the “Squamish 50” 23k. It’s called the Squamish 50 as the main race is 50 miles long, but they also offer variants of the course that are 50km’s and 23km’s in length. Spring, the other half of pebbleshoo, ran in the 50km, a mammoth achievement, and will be posting her thoughts on that also. If you’ve been following this blog you might remember I posted about my reasons to run this race back in January, you can read that original post here: Twenty Three Well, did I hit my goal of losing 23lbs in weight? No. I did not. I’m around 15lbs lighter. I guess something changed between writing that initial post and actually running the race. Weight loss is still happening but I don’t frequently monitor my weight so it isn’t like I’ve set weight loss goals and am keeping track that I’m hitting them. I imagined I might lose around 23lbs by the race simply by being very active. I guess my body is happy with its current weight and doesn’t want it to drop much lower for now. Another aspect is that I don’t like feeling hungry. It’s an unnecessary mental distraction. Since January and when I wrote that first post about signing up for this race I’ve been doing a lot more Skiing, Mountain Biking and Rock Climbing, as well as some Backpacking and Mountaineering. Primarily though, compared to the last 3 years, I’ve cut back on Backpacking and spent a lot more of the Spring and Summer Mountain Biking and Rock Climbing. Generally, when my body is losing weight quickly, I feel hungry. When climbing it made me feel weak and when biking it made me feel shaky. This wasn’t good. I decided that I’d rather feel satiated and enjoy learning to get better at these activities than spend time thinking about food I could be eating. It seems to be working. I’m eating enough and I’m still losing weight, it’s just very, very slow. What has helped is that rather than reducing the quantity of food I was consuming I’ve changed the quality of it. I’m eating a lot more organic fruits and vegetables. I’ve cut out a lot of dairy as well, I consume no milk anymore (replaced it with Almond milk), I eat a little cheese and yogurt and trace amounts of butter. I’ve also cut back on wheat, refined sugars and canned foods. You might have noticed above that I didn’t mention running as...
There.. Are.. Four.. Pitches: Star Chek
If you’re a die hard Trekkie you may get the reference in the title of this post. If not, then don’t worry about it. A few weeks ago I climbed a multi-pitch route named “Star Chek”, probably named as a play on the name of the popular Sci-Fi show and due to it’s location, above the Cheakamus River, being out of this world. I’d been mentioning this climb to a friend of mine, Adrian, for a while. Ever since I seen pictures of it from reports online the idea of climbing this exposed Arête of rock while a torrent of white water roared below seemed so tantalizing. I’m not at a skill level yet where I could lead it so I’d need Adrian to go on the sharp end of the rope. The stars, pun intended, aligned, and he offered to lead it with me. He’d be passing it on his way North to do some camping so it would work out perfectly. It ended up being myself, Adrian and his better half, Sophie. On the morning of the climb the weather did not seem to be on our side. It was showering and the idea of climbing wet, slick rock was losing it’s appeal. I met up with Adrian and, always the optimist, he said that we should go check it out at least. We got to the parking lot and it was still raining on the windshield of the car. I commented and said that we could do it another time when it was dry if they wanted. Adrian, still being optimistic, wanted to wait. After about a half hour, the rain didn’t seem to be abating much and Adrian said: “We should go”. I initially thought he meant that he wanted to leave and go away, but when I seen him get out of the vehicle and start getting his stuff I realized he wanted to go do the climb. At the very least he wanted to get to the base of the climb and see what the rock was like up close. I’ve written about this in the past in my post “Get your nose against it” and how you should always go as far as you can before turning around but on this day, with it raining, I was thinking about breaking my own rule and throwing in the towel at the parking lot. Adrians gusto was infectious though so we grabbed our stuff and began descending into the gorge that would lead us to the base of Star Chek. After about 10 minutes I noticed something odd. The rock further down in the gorge...
Sky Pilot: Why I Climb
Back in August 2011 I reached the summit of a little peak that sits only a handful of kilometers away from where I live. In a lot of ways this peak, outside of the scrambling and mountaineering community in and around the Southern Coast Mountains of BC, is largely unknown by most individuals. It was unknown to me also until one day I was flicking through the pages of my recently bought copy of Matt Gunns “Scrambles in Southwest British Columbia” in mid 2010. The name “Sky Pilot” instantly stood out. It’s a great name for a Mountain in my opinion and instantly gave the peak a mystique that drew me to want to climb it some day. In many ways climbing Mountains for me is an endeavour to get further away from the comfort and ennui of postmodernity at sea level. The closer I get to the sky above me, the less the trappings of modern life apply, the greater the viscerality of experience. To stand atop this Sky Pilot became a singular focus for me. At the time of discovering this Mountain I could barely hike for 3 sustained hours at sea level. I’d never carried an overnight pack on my back and the word “scrambling” was a manner in which I’d prepare eggs on a Saturday morning, not the homonym for a method to progress over rocky terrain. I knew I had a long way to go before I could hope to safely and enjoyably climb this mountain. An entire year went by. I hiked often and began scrambling to the tops of many peaks in the Ranges close to where I live. But, when I’d stand atop those summits, I’d always scan for the familiar shape of Sky Pilot on the horizon and imagine I was there instead. It is an odd compulsion to be consumed with thoughts about a jutting protrusion of rock and ice. I have spent many an hour trying to understand why some mountains can capture my attention so entirely while others, of no lesser height, difficulty or prowess go unnoticed. Certain mountains get imbued with a personality. I think most people that climb mountains regularly anthropomorphise them a little. They sit like foreboding giants with their shoulders curled away from us. We spend time to get to know their moods, when it seems these Ogres might allow us to reach their summit, and then, as we ascend, gain an intimate understanding about the mountain. Some are not ready to let their guard down and we must retreat, while others welcome us to their top freely. I wanted to get to...
