As the weather forecast for September 8 changed from sunny to stormy, so did my mood. Nevertheless, I lined up in the pouring rain with 150 other runners and a bagpiper on Saturday 6:00 a.m. In my favourite running gear
(skirt, arm warmers and barefoot shoes), I figured I’d heat up quickly, despite the poor weather conditions. The hilly trails were a shin deep mess of wet roots, rocks and mud.
I loved the first 34K. But after approximately 5 hours of running, my ankles were sore and I was starting to get cold. I tried so hard to run, but my IT band and ankles had done as much work as they could. I bargained with my body and ran 10, then 20 seconds at a time. It worked for a kilometer. After that I started walking. My body temperature continued to drop and I started shivering and couldn't stop. I knew I had mild hypothermia and started to get scared, worried that I might have to quit or be pulled off the course. Other runners and even tourists who cottage in the forest stopped to check on me (did I look that bad?).
The rain and winds were relentless. I shivered uncontrollably and limped with my arms tucked into my armpits to try and conserve a little bit of body heat. Finally, I lost my appetite but kept drinking knowing that dehydration for sure would kill my race.