Quebec Mega Trail Race Recap
If you follow me for microcap content only, feel free to skip this post. This is more of a personal story about perseverance and surpassing yourself.
If you've been reading this newsletter for a while, you probably know that I was racing the Quebec Mega Trail last weekend in the Charlevoix region (Quebec). The 110-kilometre course would take us from Petite-Rivière-Saint-François up the Massif, through the Sentier des Caps along the Saint-Lawrence River all the way to Mont-Sainte-Anne. Here's the elevation profile with the different aid stations:
We'll begin this story the day before the race.
I already know I won't sleep much Friday night because I must get up very early. The race starts at 5 am on Saturday, and I have to take the shuttle bus from Mont-Sainte-Anne to the start in Petite-Rivière-Saint-Francois at 3:30 am.
Obviously, I'm too excited, and I don't feel tired. I went to bed at around 10:30 pm on Friday night, thinking I could sleep for 3-4 hours. My 1-year-old son had other plans. For reasons I couldn't understand, he woke up crying every 30-45 minutes all night. The result: I managed to sleep a 45-minute stretch, and that's it. At 2:30 am, I get up, eat, get dressed, grab my gear, and it's time to go!
There are 600 runners at the start (200 for the 110km race and 400 for the 80km).
Off we go!
The first leg of the race takes us on a steep climb of the Massif, a 950-meter ascent. Despite the lack of sleep, I'm feeling good. The pack of runners slowly splits up, and I join a group of 5-10 runners who are going at the same pace. We're making good progress, which is motivating! I look at my pace and heart rate on my watch and think I might be going a bit fast. I'm afraid I'll pay the price later.
As it happens, it catches up with me. At 28km, we enter a very technical section. The trail turns left and right, up and down, with rocks and roots all over. It's hard to get into a rhythm. Every kilometre is hard-earned. The rain starts to fall. I have my first big energy dip at around 40km, lasting a few hours.
That's when fatigue leads me to make a significant mistake. I lose track of my nutrition. It's hard to remember when I've eaten. I start making very loose calculations about how many calories I've eaten and fall behind. I have big energy ups and downs. I try to stay awake with coffee every few hours.
After several technical and extremely muddy (but beautiful) sections, I finally reach the aid station at Mont-Sainte-Anne (MSA) at 80km in 15 hours. While the 80km runners turn left to head for the finish line, we turn right for the final 30km section.
My pacer, Marilou, is waiting for me at the aid station. If you're unfamiliar with trail races, a pacer is someone who is allowed to accompany a runner, typically during the final stretch of a long race. The pacer's duty is to help the runner stick to the plan (pace, nutrition, hydration, etc.), stay positive, problem-solve, and not get lost on the course.
Marilou and I take stock of the situation: I haven't eaten enough, I'm dehydrated, and I need caffeine. I sit down for 15-20 minutes, grab a cheeseburger and a Coke, and off we go again! The following section takes us to the summit of MSA, a 700-meter climb in 4km. My legs are barely working at this point, which is promising. Darkness is also about to fall, and we'll finish the race with the headlamp. I'm heading into my second straight night with barely any sleep.
The MSA climb is on a technical trail to boot. It's merciless. I drag myself up through pain and misery for over 1 hour and 20 minutes to complete this 4km section. I'm so tired I'm dizzy. I need to sleep. At the aid station at the top of MSA, I lie down on a few chairs and fall asleep for 10 minutes. Marilou wakes me up; we've got to go! I eat a mac n cheese with extra pickles (don't ask) and drink another coffee.
Suddenly, I feel like I have a new body. My head's clear, and I don't hurt anymore (almost). I feel terrific.
We set off again for a loop that takes us down half of the MSA and back up to the summit via another technical trail. This is the last challenging climb. After the second MSA summit, it's 20km to the finish with little elevation gain. It's in the bag (or that’s what I tell myself)!
We crush the next section, which takes us to the Fondeur aid station at 101km. We overtake a lot of runners. Morale is sky-high. Only 9km to go after this last aid station and we're done.
Except that my body hasn't said its last word. Sleepiness comes back and hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm dizzy. I feel like I'm wobbling from left to right. I stumble on a root and almost fall. A few minutes later, my foot hits a rock, and I collapse to the ground. I'm a zombie.
I've got to get some sleep. We're at 105km, and I can't take it anymore. I lie down on the edge of the trail and close my eyes. Ultra-trail runners call this a "dirt nap." After 2 minutes, I come back to my senses. We're 5km from the end, and I'm trying to sleep! What is wrong with me? I get up and start running again.
The end is a blur. I only have a single focus: staring at Marilou's shoes as she runs ahead of me. She'll get me to the finish line. I just need to follow her and avoid tripping myself on another obstacle.
We finally arrive! I can hear the announcer through the trees. I see the lights and hear the music. My suffering is finally over! A wave of pride washes over me as I cross the finish line. I can't believe I've persevered for so long.
22 hours and 9 minutes.
It's a liberation.
As I walk away to find a chair, I see a whole bunch of bugs on the ground next to my feet.
I turn to Marilou: "Have you seen the number of bugs moving around on the ground?"
Her: "Hmm, show them to me." I lean over to point my finger. She tells me it's a rock. They're all rocks. I'm hallucinating. Sleep deprivation is one hell of a drug, I'm telling you!
I come back home and take a shower. I've got blisters, I’m chafed all over, and my legs don't bend anymore.
At 4:30 am on Sunday, I lay my head on the pillow. I'm in heaven. I pass out with a smile on my face. ✌️
As a friend told me after the race, ‘‘it is so hard but so gratifying to surpass yourself.’’
This one was damn hard.
Disclaimer
This publication is for informational purposes only. Nothing produced under the Stocks & Stones brand should be construed as investment advice or recommendations. Mathieu Martin, the author, is employed as a Portfolio Manager with Rivemont Investments. This publication only represents Mathieu Martin’s own opinions and not those of Rivemont.
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Well done Sir!
Félicitations Mathieu. Superbe défi que tu peux être fier d'avoir complété. 110 km sur du plat n'est pas facile en soit, alors 110 km avec les dénivelés de Charlevoix!? Content de savoir que t'aies pu, un peu, profiter du superbe environnement, entre fleuve et montagnes.