Infinitus - My first trail marathon and how not to train for it

"Pick a goal you cannot achieve, then plan for it, train for it, and destroy it" - Kirk Deligiannis

Don't do what I did..

..which is cram training for a marathon for about 6 weeks. This may be doable if you're Meb, or a horse.

I've rucked a marathon, but this would be my first in more of the running aspect. Could I do 42km? Or in this case, 27 miles?

In short, I do indoor group circuit trainings with my coach during the cooler months. Once it's May, he is unavailable (ie the workouts are on pause), so I try to squeeze in every last training right up until the second week of April (Infinitus taking place on the first Saturday of June). So this gave me 7 weeks to shoot myself in the foot repeatedly train the best I could.

*ducks head to avoid getting smacked* Before the questions - I didn't do any couch-to-42K trail because I'm fairly certain no such folly exists. I'd gotten used to running 4 times a week, 3-5 miles per outing so I wasn't totally behind the 8 ball. Plus, the GORUCK HTL I completed back in March helped solidify my feet for the long periods of pounding and major ouch.

Infinitus is one of the trail races in a series by The Endurance Society. There are several distances, many of them in the ultra territory, and are completed by runners running on two closed loops that make you think of an infinity symbol. Last year I ran the short loop (which is actually 7 miles...did I mention the race director, Andy Weinberg, also used to be involved in plotting the Spartan Death Race? Like any diabolical race director *cough Norm cough*, he's one of the nicest people on the planet.)

FYI, Infinitus' signature event is the 888K, which means runners will complete the infinity symbol twenty times with a few extras, in 240 hours or less.

One goal of mine was to beat last year's time on the short loop, which I did by over 10 minutes (yay!) I'm fairly certain it was a different course plot, but the elevation gain and drop probably didn't change much.

Ok whoa horsie now, stop running like a kamikaze and settle in to run the big, 20-mile loop.

People told me to get ready for a lot of power hiking during longer-distance trail runs...I can power hike!

One thing I quickly learned, but wasn't outright warned of, is you will be alone for long stretches at a time.

Race photos taken on course only show a small fraction of what is going on; we twist our faces into smiles for the camera and make it appear we're enjoying ourselves running.

During the 1st loop still looking fresh (photo cred: Jennefer Paquette)

In truth, there's tripping, stumbling & subsequent cursing, snot rockets, a fart or two..I also get an answer (more than 1) quickly enough when I wonder if I'm adequately hydrated.

During some of those alone times, you yell at the bugs buzzing around your head, some flying too close to your ears.

You decide to wage war on said bugs by going for the bug spray stashed in your pack...

...and find your sneaky race buddy has planted a build-it Minion toy! This made me laugh.

This was the final product

Resume bug spray war.

At times, take in the scenery.

And on other occasions, watch my step. How do these newts survive if they are this flaming orange colour that can be spotted far away?

I reach the 1st aid station 1/3 of the way into the 20 mile loop - still feel good, legs keep going, I think I can do this! While things are still going well, I foolishly think, "Maybe I can attempt a longer distance next year..."

I'd say I'd gotten in about 23km when BAM!...

...my cramming didn't totally pay off and my legs are screaming at me to stop running. The power hiking is ok, but every time I encounter a downhill it's harder and harder, because the legs are increasingly vocal about the agony.

Whenever a runner passes me on the trails, I momentarily get a little boost and trot for a short bit...then resume power hike mixed with clumsy jogging that makes me resemble a pirate with a peg leg.

"Shut up, legs!" only works for so long, so I start telling myself, "Make it to the next aid station! There's food!"

A cheerful volunteer greets me at the aid station, and asks, "What do you need?" I don't answer right away because there's 3 or 4 things I want to do right there and then. I finally muster, "Something...salty..." I spot at least 3 open jars of peanut butter on the table, along with saltine & Animal crackers, sliced sandwich bread, and Smucker's jam.

**to quote my buddy Randy - what I learned during this ordeal, is have a few salty snack options to go along with the sweet ones.

What else did I learn? While slathering Animal Crackers with peanut butter (try it! Delicious), I only butter the heads.

The funniest moment right then and there: a racer waging war with mosquitoes. He's sprayed himself with the bug spray, and then 30 seconds later we hear: *smack*. *Smack* "I just put bug spray!" *Smack* "WTF!!!" 

A little further down the trail - *smack* <cursing> *smack* "HEY!"

The last part of the 20-mile loop merges with the short loop, but I don't really recognize any of the landscape, just following the coloured race tape. I know we pass by a creek with running water just before the end of the loop, but I'd heard something like it earlier and was misled. Lo and behold, the finish!

There's some after-race balm by Dr. Doug at the main lodge that I slather all over my feet and lower legs, and it feels blissfully soothing. The actual limping and stiffness doesn't show up until the next day, where I can probably re-enact the "Walk this way" scene from Young Frankenstein.

I end up pit crewing and waiting for my running buddy to finish her 88k. She did!!

Final thoughts:

- I was able to cram training for a marathon in about 7 weeks...it just wasn't pretty at times, especially near the end.

- even though the hill climbs weren't as annoying as say Spartan Race ones, at some point they feel that way because the legs are tired.

- one network of trails we ran are on Mount Moosalamoo...MOOSALAMOO! hee hee

- people leave strange things on the trails. 1 of the 250-mile runners (picture a guy with a beard and built more like a football player) returns from a loop wearing a tiara that says "Princess", that someone had left on a trail sign.

- would I run this again? Probably. At least I know I should give myself 3 months to prepare.