Saturday was the Mount Robson Ultra. If you recall, it is the very reason for this blog. Instead of frolicking gleefully (nostalgia clearly has a way of wiping away the torture of this run) through mountain vistas and pristine glacial lakes, I was slowly making my way up and down a set of stairs in the rolling foothills of Cochrane. Don’t get me wrong, it had it’s own scenic charm, but it wasn’t lost on me that it should have been race day.
Because I am a sucker for punishment, I looked at the results today. When I ran the race in 2011 it was either a 42 km or 46 km race (different people told me different things), and I finished 59th out of 79 runners with a time of 5 hr 39 minutes. I considered that pretty awesome for someone who didn’t really train.
When I imagined running this year, I envisioned a triumphant ass-kicking of my record. I imagined me finishing 50 km in 6 hours. It was a pretty ambitious goal given that it’s a longer race than the last time, but one that I thought doable after last year’s hiking season. I imagined friends and family cheering me on at the finish line, unlike last time when I crossed the finish line with no fanfare. I imagined it being the perfect cap to a long season of hiking and trail running.
Let’s go back to this year’s results. I had to see how I would have done if I had run the race according to my goals. If all had gone as planned, a 6 hour time would’ve placed me 67th out of 127 runners. As a ranking, that would’ve been such a drastic improvement, moving me to middle of the pack from the lowly bottom quarter. I would’ve been incredibly happy with that result.
Alas, it was the race that never was for me. And all I can do is look forward to 2017 and the hope that maybe I can capture the glory that I missed this year.