Grace and I started working together early in 2024 to help her prepare for the Finlayson Arm 50 miler; this would be her first 50 mile event and I was so happy she reached out to me, as Finlayson Arm is a race near and dear to my heart. Back when it offered a 100km distance, this race is where I experienced my first DNF (Did-Not-Finish) back in 2017. It’s also where I connected with my first-ever coach, Myke Labelle, and where I returned to conquer the course in 2018 to finish second female. Getting to work with Grace to achieve her goal of training smart, finishing strong and tackling a new distance at an event that holds so many special memories for me has been a highly rewarding, full circle moment! However, this is not about me, it’s about Grace.The below has been shared with Grace’s consent.
Watching Grace grow as an athlete over the last several months has been extremely special to see. As someone who claimed not to love speed-work, she attacked the workouts I gave her with tenacity, grit, and a “no excuses” mentality. While it’s been fun to watch her get faster, the real development has been watching her become a tougher, more resilient, focused and dedicated athlete. Also, I have to say, that of all the athletes I work with, Grace most certainly takes the cake for most entertaining, eclectic Strava titles.
Through her training plan, we made sure to incorporate running in a way that let her spend time with her partner and enjoy the other activities she loves (like mountain biking) but when it was time to put her head down and focus on her biggest mileage weeks leading up to Finlayson, she fully committed herself to the process. I observed her self-belief, confidence and demeanor flourish and I knew she was well-prepared and more than tough enough to handle the beast that is Finlayson Arm. While she experienced some challenges on race day, I am so proud of her and can’t wait to see what she accomplishes next!! You can read about Grace’s experience below.
Leading up to my first 50 Miler I had weeks to think about all the things that I should be prepared for and to reflect on all the things that I had read and watched that went wrong for other ultra runners. A funny moment, the day before race day, I said to my coach Liz, “I just don’t want to shit myself” half joking but also knowing that sometimes our stomachs don’t always behave the same way, even if we are pretty consistent with our running fuels. I found comfort in humor in knowing how many hours and days I had put into thisgoal, I felt this wasn’t something impossible for me.
When looking for a coach, I wanted someone who was first off, a strong runner, but also someone who was playful and had a good sense of humor. (I know, weird things to look for in a coach) but I know myself, and the type of leadership that works with me. After a couple minutes of looking through some articles, and social media, I felt like I knew Liz was a good fit, and as the months of my training continued, I’d be constantly reminded of this. From her texts suggesting I put on some Beyonce and just move my legs, to her comforting words every month when my period made me feel like the world was ending, to her true belief in me and the fact I believed her deeply, when she would say “I know you can do this.”
Race day had come and I truly believed myself when I told Liz, “I’ve done all the work I can, and now I just have to run.” Waking up at 3:30 AM for a 5:00AM start, was both exciting and uncomfortable. I knew a big day was ahead of me, but I knew I could do it, and so did Liz. My typical pre-run food has been a protein smoothie, packed with all the goods and a banana, which typically meant I would eat pretty soon into my runs.
Thoughts of how much time I had committed to this, how many amazing memories I had made in the mountains with my friends, and how much attention I paid during this training period were just a couple of the thoughts that flooded my mind. I probably drank three sips of smoothie on the way to the race, whilst my partner, drank his coffee in peace, reminding me of my own words “just a big day in the mountains.” He clearly couldn’t feel the way my tummy was tossing and turning.
In the darkness of the morning, off we went. Everyone chatting around me about where they came from, how many times they had done Finlayson, and what other races they had done. In Grace fashion, I stayed quiet and focused on my breath and slow, steady and small steps. After climbing Mount Finlayson, the crowd really moved, and I felt myself on the back of the pack, where I really didn’t want to be so early in the race. I passed the first aid station, and grabbed a couple things and headed out, feeling like I needed to catch up. 10 minutes after leaving, I had realized I left my poles at the pole drop. WTF! We had 4300M of climbing that day. (I also had numerous dreams of loosing poles over the last 6 months) The nightmare had come true! I quickly called my partner and asked him to get them and meet me at the next aid station. I got into the second aid station, to find my crew hadn’t been able to make it there, because they were trying to hunt down these flipping poles! One women, stopped me, and I quickly ranted “I cant find my crew.” and her kind eyes, looked at me and said “we’re gonna do this.” She grabbed my flasks and tailwind, filled my pockets with candy, encouraged me to eat a couple potatoes and said “I’ll see you soon” This wonderful piece of kindness was one of the reasons how I got through this race.
The mystery of the poles remains unknown. Andy (my partner) at this point, spent the summer hearing about how long runs were affecting me, how I recovered, how I was so excited to be running a sub 6 min KM (I know for all the big wigs, that’s nothing, but for me, its huge!) I arrived at KM 40 to Andy holding new Black Diamond poles! (He had also heard about my nightmares about losing poles, so he knew how impactful this could be for the race) Off, I went with my poles and belly slowly filling with more gels! I called this race “the staircase of rocks”, as each section quickly reminded me “you ain’t in the Canadian Rockies” I felt like my feet were fumbling over the net of roots and rocks that laid perfectly for you to leap down. Leaping was not my strategy, I took the more careful soft approach with small steps. Was I even running?
I emotionally relied on these aid stations more than I thought, counting the KM down until I would see my crew, who all took turns comforting me in their own special way. Having my partners’ parents at the aid stations over the years, became almost as important as my months of hard training. The pride and positive words from Kathy and the dad jokes and brutal honesty from Vince somehow were things that grounded me and boosted my mood. Every aid station felt like “coming home” only to be kicked out the door within minutes! LOL
I was chasing cut offs every aid station and time was definitely right on my ass, by the second last aid station. Where I found myself, rushing through because I really wasn’t sure I would make the next cut off. Last aid station rolled around and in efforts to make me feel better, my partner goes “you don’t look half as bad as some of the people coming through this aid station.” I might not have looked bad, but my excitement for technical terrain had slowly faded. I just wanted to run, flat and fun to the finish line. Not in this trail race, girlfriend! You were treated with a small 2KM section of road which definitely boosted my moral and got my chatting with a guy who wanted to tag along with me. (who knows why, I was a grumpy and gassy gal at that point) but than we popped on trails that were steep and we were not done climbing, this is where I started to panic. Watching the time and knowing we still had 5 KM of trails left made me really worried. Every corner I was looking for lights or the voices of the announcer. When I heard them, I took off, I really wondered if I would make the 18 hour cutoff so I leaped into the finish line at 17:55!!!
This one time I went running 