My first night trail race - The Rugged Raccoon 25 km

I knew going into The Rugged Raccoon 25 km night race on May 4th that the trail would be a mud fest. The week leading up to it there were three days of heavy rain. The month before I completed a training run of most of the route during daylight hours and had made mental notes of some of the more technical sections with hills, mud, and roots. It circles a lake at the Wildwood Conservation Area in St Mary's, Ontario. Race night, the bulk of us started at 7:00 p.m. with clear skies overhead. The temperature was warm enough that we could run in shorts and t-shirts.

I got off to a quick start hoping that I could avoid getting bogged down with a group of runners at the first mud pit that was unavoidable near the 2 km mark. I decided just to plow right through it. My strategy worked. A small group of us ran in sight of each other through to the first aid station. Star Wars cantina music played over a loudspeaker there. I filled up my drinking flask with Skratch and carried on, thanking the jovial aid station host as I left. The sunlight was fading. Long shadows cast a golden glow across the farmland we passed before we followed the trail back into the woods winding its way up a hill.

I experienced an upset stomach after completing the next kilometer and had to slow my pace to get over it. Most races I've completed started early in the morning. My digestive system wasn't used to racing at night. I pressed on. By the 10 km mark I was moving better, and I stopped at the 2nd aid station near a dirt road that crossed over a narrow bridge. With my flask refilled with Skratch I ran close behind another racer on this dirt road to the entrance of the trail on the west side of the lake. It was getting dark. I stopped to put on my headlamp and to get a pack of electrolyte gummies I had stashed in my running vest. I soon caught up to a fellow racer and plowed with them through another muddy section of trail. We ran together for about half an hour with our headlamps on, taking turns leading the way. After crossing a creek, I stopped to get some supplements out of my running vest. Soon I was left to run on my own for the next three kilometers or so continuing on the west side of the lake trail. There were times when it felt surreal as my single headlamp illuminated a blur of evergreen trees that rushed past me as I ran. It was like playing a first-person video game where I had to avoid mud holes and protruding roots. Somewhere I came up a hill and found a manned aid station. Someone with an encouraging smile offered to refill my flask with Skratch. They had freshly made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I took half of one to go, munching it as I headed into the dark up a steep incline.

The next two kilometers wound through evergreen forests. A couple of runners passed me there as I stopped to walk, dealing with a cramped hamstring. I took in extra fluids and told myself that there was only one more aid station and then the finish. I could run again so I pressed on and soon was heading over highway 7. More peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were waiting for me at the last aid station. The attendants refilled my drinking flask and encouraged me that the finish was just five kilometers away. Five kilometers was less than the distance I normally ran weekdays on the trails near my home. I told myself that I was just heading out for one of those morning runs. It helped to keep me going as my hamstring was still giving me some trouble. Back into the forest I ran. Around a stream and across a field. I could hear I was close to a rural road, the rumble of passing cars. Soon I entered a hilly pine tree forest. The next section was straight along the roadside for about 1/2 km. I could see the flashes of headlamps in the woods from runners who were behind me. Like fireflies in the distance, they made their way along the trail I had just tread. The last section of trail cut across the woods beside a river back up to highway 7. An underpass was there that led back to the race finish. I could hear shouting and someone ringing cow bells. My running pace quickened as I came down the paved road toward the noise. Electric candle lights illuminated both sides of the five hundred meter path to the finish. Groups of sweaty, muddy, finishers were there - cheering. I came across the finishing line with my hands raised. Someone put a medal around my neck, congratulating me. I didn't know I was still a contender. I finished third place in my age division.

It felt good to be done my first night trail race. There was more of a thrill by completing it in the dark. Throughout it my senses were fully engaged to stay balanced and upright. I think I might do one again if I have the chance.