They say you learn more from failure than success. In that regard, the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile race weekend was an educationally outstanding weekend for me.

Last fall I decided pretty much on a whim that I would run my first 100 mile race at Rocky Raccoon in Huntsville Texas in February of this year. Up to that point I had run a handful of 50k, 65k, and a couple of 50 Mile races. 2016 wasn't a great year of running for me. For over a year I had been struggling with an irritation of my patellar tendon, so it seemed like I was always trying to find that fine balance between getting enough mileage and not re-injuring myself. By the fall of 2016 things seemed to be getting better- I ran well at the Haliburton Forest 50 Mile (10th overall I think, in 9:45) and then won the Batawa Fat Ass 6 Hour, with 8 loops (52km) in 5:30. I trained consistently through December and January. I wasn't running high mileage- most weeks were around 70-80km, and I maxed my long run at 40km. Fast forward to the race weekend..................

I managed to arrange my trip to Texas around a work trip, so step #1 (getting to Texas) was a home run. After that, the plans started to fall apart. When I signed up for this race I didn't realize that it was on Super Bowl weekend, and that the Super Bowl was in Houston this year, so when I went to book a rental car, prices were outrageous. Lesson #1- if you need a rental car at a decent price, don't try to do it on the same weekend as 50,000 other people coming into that city. Fortunately, trail runners are an amazing bunch of people, and Mark Gehringer, who is the president of the Houston Area Trail Runners, saw I post I'd put on Facebook about trying to find a ride from Houston to the race, and offered to pick me up at the airport. That was a lifesaver, and I'm so grateful for that.

We got up to the park just in time for the race briefing, and then Mark drove me over to my campsite. Lesson #2- when picking a campsite before a race, try to get one as close as possible to the start line. I had literally the furthest campsite from the start line- it was about 3km, which wouldn't be a big deal, except that the food truck that I had been planning on using for dinner that night was now a 40 minute walk (in each direction). And, in the morning, I would have to walk 3km with all my gear in a backpack to get to the start line. In hindsight, I should have just put on my running shoes and jogged over to the food truck for dinner, but I was feeling drowsy, so I figured I'd just eat what I had on hand (a stale bagel that I'd grabbed in my hotel lobby that morning, and a big bottle of Bolthouse Farms Green Goodness Smoothie that Melinda Howard was so kind to bring to the race for me (since I didn't have a car to go to a store and get it myself). Thank goodness I had that green drink- that stuff is my rocket fuel. After my "dinner" I crawled into my hammock, read my book for a few minutes, and then started to doze off. "This is perfect" I thought to myself- it's barely 8PM and I'm already falling asleep! But alas, the children from several campsites down started screaming like a pack of deranged monkeys, and my hopes for an early sleep were dashed. I started dozing off and on, and finally, when it seemed like I had finally drifted into a deeper sleep, something bumped my butt. No matter how used you are to sleeping out in the forest, when you are sleeping in a hammock, and an animal bumps you in the middle of the middle of the night, you wake up FREAKING OUT! My reaction was to slam the side of the hammock with my hand, hoping to scare off whatever creature was out there. I fell asleep again, and a few minutes later............... over and over again. After about 5 or 6 times I finally got up, got out of my hammock and looked around, and figured out what was happening. I could see a big jack rabbit sitting by the edge of my campsite, and when I turned back to my hammock, I realized what had been happening. I had left a banana (which was to have been my breakfast) in the pocket on the side of my hammock. The rabbit would come over, try to get the banana, would would then swing over and hit my butt. With all the times I had swatted at the side of my hammock, I had  beaten the banana to a sticky, soggy pulp, so I threw what was left of it into the brush and hoped for the best for the rest of the night. Lesson #3- when you hang up your hammock, hang it high enough off the ground that any animals that can bump you are actually worth worrying about. Oh, and don't leave bananas in the pocket. At about 4am I work up, got dressed, ate come granola bars and green drink, then packed up my stuff and started walking to the start line (and the food truck, which thank goodness had coffee).



In the last few minutes before the start I was completely calm- no nerves at all, just a feeling of "might as well get going and run 100 miles." The plan was simple- run at an easy feeling pace, and keep well fueled, and I think I did a good job of that. This race is 5 x 20 mile loops. The first loop went really well. I ran the first while with Mark (the guy who picked me up at the airport) and then was on my own for most of the rest of it by myself. For loop 2 I met up with a couple of different folks, and had a great time- felt great, was having some interesting conversations, and was keeping a decent pace. About 1/2 way through the third loop though, I noticed that something wasn't right. I was very thirsty, was drinking a lot (a litre every 30-40 minutes) but I wasn't sweating at all, and as that loop went on, I was having to pee more and more frequently. By the time I hit 60 miles I was peeing about every 10 minutes. I went into the medical tent at the turn around and told them what was happening. They figured I was drinking too much electrolyte mix and not enough water, and my body was trying to flush out the electrolytes. They gave me some pedialyte to drink, told me to start doing 1 bottle of water to 1 bottle of sport drink (I was drinking Nuun) and that should get that things balanced out and I should be good to keep going. I headed out for loop 4 and made a decision that I would get to the Damnation Aid Station (about 67 miles into the race) and make a decision on whether or not to continue. One thing of significance to mention- during my flight on Friday morning I remembered that I had not signed up for out of country health insurance, and made a mental note to do that. Unfortunately I didn't remember that mental note until I was running on Saturday morning, so I knew that there was no was I wanted to end up in a hospital and get a bill for many thousands of dollars.

When I got to Damnation Aid Station, things were no better. I still wasn't absorbing any of the liquid I was drinking, so everything I drank got peed out a few minutes later. Lesson #4- I really need to get the hydration aspect figured out before my next long race. As I walked into the aid station I told them I was dropping out, They did a really good job of making sure that I wasn't just dropping out because I was being a wimp, and then when they finally accepted that there was no way I was going back out on the course, they dropped a bomb on me- there were no rides out from that aid station- I had to turn around walk right back to the previous aid station and then catch a ride from there. Good Lord. I sat for about an hour (why hurry at that point?), had some soup, and then started the walk of shame back. Lesson #5- if you're going to drop out of a race, try to do it at a spot where you can catch a ride.

I finally got back to the start area, handed in my timing chip, and then crawled into my sleeping bag (on the ground, under a table) and went to sleep. It was a bit discouraging to be lying there, hearing the cheers for the runners as they came across the finish line, and knowing that I had failed. But I knew it was the right decision. As much as I wanted to finish that race, putting myself at risk of kidney failure was way too high of a price.

A little before 6, Mark finished his race in just under 24 hours, and collapsed on the ground beside me. We slept for a couple of hours, then packed up all our stuff and headed for Houston. Thus began the next step of my adventure. Remember earlier on I'd mentioned about Super Bowl weekend in Houston? When I booked my flight I booked it for the Monday, figuring I'd head to my Brother In Law's place, watch the Super Bowl, eat some pizza and wings, and sleep on his sofa. Turned out that it didn't work for me to stay there, and because of the game hotel prices were insane ($800 for Holiday Inn?????) so I had 2 back up plans. Best case was that I managed to re-book for an earlier flight, and worst case was that I spend 30 hours in the Houston airport until my scheduled flight. Fortunately I was able to get on a flight later Sunday afternoon and not spend the night sleeping under a bench at the airport. Lesson #6? Not sure, but avoiding cities when the Super Bowl is on is definitely a good idea.

For the next couple of days after the race I was thinking that 100 miles is a stupid distance to try to run, and I was in no frame of mind to even think of wanting to ever try to run that far again. 2 weeks on I'm still not anxious to try another 100 miler, but I moved past completely ruling it out. All in all it was a good experience. I met some great people, ran on some nice trails, spent a load of time in airports (okay, that wasn't so good) and learned lots of lessons. 

This year's Batawa Fat Ass/ Bad Ass races were held on November 13. This is a low cost trail race put on by our local running store (http://www.triandrunsports.com/) in Trenton. They do a really good job of making this a fun event, with multiple distances. There's a kids' 1K race, 4km, 7.5km, 10km, 17.5km, 25km, and the 6 Hour Bad Ass, which is a 6.5km loop around the Batawa Ski Hill.

I ran the 25km event a few years ago and really enjoyed it. The 25km event starts off with the 7.5km loop (which is the same as the Bad Ass loop except with an additional 1km loop tagged on at the beginning), then the 10km loop (which is my favourite parts of the Batawa trails, and then the 7.5km loop 1 more time.

This year, Altra joined on as a sponsor, so I definitely wanted to run it again. I was tossed up between doing the 25km again, and doing the Bad Ass. Initially I wasn't too excited about doing the 6.5km loop over and over again, but I decided that since I'm now in training for the Rocky Raccoon 100 Mile, the Bad Ass would serve as a good training run.

It was a perfect day for a trail race- it was sunny, with minimal wind (well, maybe a bit more than minimal) and nice & cool. At the start (7:30am) it was just above freezing, and it warmed up to close to 10° by the end. As the race started, I took it nice and easy. Almost immediately the course winds up the side of the ski hill, and there was no way I was planning on running up that. I took off at a good hiking pace, and at the top of the first climb found I was in 3rd place. Being less than a km in to the race, I didn't really care about placement, but by the time we were halfway through the first loop, I pulled into 2nd, and then part way through the 2nd loop I caught up to the first place guy. He was another local guy that I knew of, but had never officially met, and we had a great time chatting and laughing over the next few loops.

For the first few loops I was wearing  a pair of almost new Altra Lone Peak 3.0s, which felt great, but I think may not have been quite broken in enough. After I think the 4th or 4th loop I was starting to feel a touch of a hot spot, so I stopped at my drop bag and pulled out my trusty old Altra Olympus 2.0s. I love those shoes. I put of a bit of body glide on my feet, pulled my shoes on and off I went.

Shortly before this point, Lee (the guy I had been running with) started to have stomach issues, and had to slow down, so I carried on by myself. I kept on ticking off the loops and was feeling good. One of my main concerns in Ultra distance races is my stomach, but I was feeling okay. I had been taking Endurance Tap gels, Lemon Lime Nuun, eating boiled potatoes off the table, and having the occasional cup of Coke. That worked well until the final aid station, which was just 1km from the start/ finish line. I think it was just bad timing- I had just gulped down a gel, drank a bunch of Nuun, and then drank a coke, all in the space of a few minutes, and my stomach almost instantly turned when I drank the coke. By that point, I was pretty sure that the 2nd place guy was pretty far behind me, so I just had to keep moving forward and finish it off. I came up over the back of the ski hill, then down the ski run and into the finish line in 5:29- not enough time to go out for another loop, so I was done, with a distance of 52km.

I was really happy with how that went. Other than the slight stomach glitch, it went really well. My gear worked great, my feet felt fine, and my pace stayed pretty good. This race gave me a good confidence boost that my training is going well and makes me feel slightly less trepidatious about my lead up to my first 100 mile race.

Whenever I sit down to write a race report, I’m always at a bit of a loss about where to start. So, for this report about the Haliburton Forest 50 Mile, I’ll go back a few months.


I didn’t have the greatest lead up to this race. Since spring of 2015, I’ve been dealing with a bit of an issue where my patellar tendon connects to the tibia, on both legs. I’ve had lots of sessions with my chiropractor (Ben Osborne at http://www.bihc.ca/), had innumerable acupuncture needles stuck in to my legs, and taken lots of time off to try to let them heal. I’m at the point now where I can run comfortably, but I always feel like I’m on that thin edge of pushing it just a little too hard, and going back on the injured list. Because of that, I’ve been training at a much lower volume and intensity than I would have liked to in prep for this race. And also, I’ve been feeling lazy about this whole training thing………


To race weekend now. This was setting up to be a fun weekend. A lot of friends would be at the race, and I was really looking forward to chilling out in the campground before and after the race, catching up, sharing stories- you know, all that fun stuff that goes on around the pain and suffering of actually running the race. The stuff that makes these events so fun. I headed up there on Friday afternoon with my friend Ben, who I met at a snowshoe race this past winter. He’s from France, but is living in Kingston at the moment as he’s there working on his post doc. We got up there mid afternoon, got the tents set up right by the start/ finish line, and then had a nice relaxing afternoon.

After a nice dinner/ pre race instructions/ runners introducing themselves one by one to everyone, pretty much everyone who was camping out headed to their tents to try to get to sleep early. Almost everyone, but not quite. There was one group of young ladies right near my tent who chose instead to crack open some beers and get caught up on gossip. Loudly. And of course, since we are Canadians who would prefer to suffer in silence rather than confront, we all lay in our tents and listened (and judged). Finally though, a woman who is without doubt either a mother or a teacher, shut them down by marching over and saying “Hey Ladies- are you guys racing tomorrow?” They responded very enthusiastically (and loudly) “Yes, we are!” And then, in a stroke of brilliance “well so is everyone else here, so would you mind keeping it down?” That was handled awesomely!


From then on, the campground was nice and quiet (other than the odd cough, tent zipper, wolves howling etc) and I heard everyone one of those noises. ALL NIGHT LONG! During the afternoon I could barely keep my eyes open while sitting in the sun in my lawn chair, but during the night I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned and sort of dozed until 3:45, and then realized there was no way I was falling asleep again, so I laid there (not wanting to be that guy who starts making noise and wakes everyone else up) until about 4:15, then when I started to hear a few other people stirring I got up to get ready for running. The early morning sky was spectacular. The race started at 6am, so we walked over to the cookhouse for a bagel and coffee under a sky so full of stars that you couldn’t help but walk with your eyes pointed upward.

A few minutes before 6 we headed for the start line, the race director recited the runner’s prayer, and then we were off. My goal was to run entirely by feel, so I kept it nice and easy, just going off my breathing and perceived exertion. The first few km are on the campground road so it was easy to keep a decent pace without much effort. About 30 minutes after the race started we were treated to an absolutely spectacular sunrise. The sky was soft pink from horizon to horizon, and as we were running past lake after lake, the pink was reflecting off the water and bouncing up to illuminate the forest under the canopy. It was truly amazing.


Around this point I settled in behind a group of runners, made up of some doing the 50K, and others the 50 Mile and 100 Mile. They were talking about their training and what their longest training runs had been. A couple of the 50K runners were saying they were worried about their long runs only being 52-55km. When I heard that I dropped back by a couple of steps as I didn’t want anyone to ask me about my longest runs (a bunch of 30km runs, and a 48km race 8 weeks earlier). Remember how I mentioned about the injury earlier? And the laziness? This was more about laziness…….. I kept meaning to do longer runs, but the summer kinda got away from me and before I know it, it was race day and I still hadn’t done any super long runs. Oh well.


The course is a 25 mile out and back, and on the way out, even though I was feeling strong, I tried really hard to just keep it feeling easy. That meant that most of the time I ran by myself. A couple of times I would fall in beside someone and chat for a few minutes, but if it felt at all like they were going faster than I wanted, I would drop back and just run the pace I wanted to.
The course is a mix of campground road, logging road, and rocky/ rooty single track. I’m not sure of the exact mix, but I’d guess maybe 60/40 trail to road. And hilly. Very hilly. This is Ontario, so nothing super long, and nothing super steep, but there is very little flat. Unfortunately my watch battery died 2km from the finish line, so I’m not sure what the elevation gain is (and I haven’t been able to find it with any of my google searches). It’s also very pretty. There are a few times when you get an open view across lakes, but mostly you’re just running through the forest of the Canadian Shield. It’s not the breathtaking views that you get in the mountains, but the rugged beauty of that part of Ontario will always hit me.

As I got close to the turn around point 25 miles in, I started to see the front runners coming back at me. I was counting how many were ahead- a couple of the 100 guys, and about a dozen of the 50 mile guys- not too bad considering I was pretty undertrained. I hit the turnaround in a bit over 4:30, which seemed to me like a pretty decent pace, and I was still feeling good. I was drinking lots (Nuun Lemon Lime mixed with Nuun Plus (their carbohydrate/ electrolyte tablets- https://nuunlife.com/products/plus-for-nuun/), eating off the aid station tables, and topping up with Endurance Tap Maple Syrup (this stuff is sooooo gooood http://www.endurancetap.com/) and Honey Stinger gummies between aid station. For the whole day my stomach stayed pretty solid, which is always a concern in a long race.


When I hit the turn around, it felt so good to know that I was headed for home. I got a bit of a psychological boost from thinking about that, but over the next few km, leading up to about 60km, I started to slide into that low point that you know is going to come sooner or later whenever you are running an ultra marathon distance. I slowly started to slip into survival mode, and started to have those thoughts of “I just want this to end” and “I’m never running a long race again” – the sorts of thoughts that anyone who has done a long race has experienced. I never completely threw my pace out the window, so I managed to keep doing what at least sort of looked like running (as opposed to the barely moving trudge/walk of someone who has truly given up). Around the 60km mark I started doing some mental math and realized that if I kept a half decent pace I would be able to break 10 hours (my previous 50 Mile race took 10:29). I started with the mantra “20 f’ing km in two and a half hours.” I kept saying that to myself from about 60 to 65km, and managed to get my head back in the race enough to start pushing my pace again. I transitioned out of survival mode into “go as fast as I can without red lining” mode. For the next 15km I feel like I was in a pretty good place. I was in loads of pain (again, refer back to the “no long runs” thing from earlier) but I was able to push and keep moving forward at a not ridiculously slow pace. With about 10km to go I started with the mental math again, and started the “how slow can I run and still break 10 hours” calculations. For the next few km that number kept dropping, to the point where I had about 5 km from the finish and about 45 minutes to cover that distance, so I knew it was in the bag- as long as I kept it under 8 minutes/ km, which I was going much faster than at that point.


Before I knew it, I came over the last hill and could see the finish line about 1km down the road. I pushed through to the end and finished in 9:45, which was good enough for 10th overall and 2nd in my age group. I didn’t really have any emotion at the finish line other than “Thank God that’s over.” After sitting down for a few minutes, getting some food (and a beer) into myself it started to sink in. I had beaten my previous 50 Mile time by 45 minutes, and I had only run about 40 minutes slower in the 2nd half than the first (as opposed to my other 50 Miler, in which I ran (death marched) the 2nd half 1.5 hours slower than the first half). It felt great to sit by the finish line, savour my victory, and cheer for the other runners as they came in. It felt even better to go back to my tent, sleep for 12 hours, and then get up and cheer for the 100 milers coming in the next morning.


All things considered, I’m very happy with how this race went. Even though my preparation was not great, I think I ran a pretty decent time for that course, and more importantly, ran smart, and managed to keep my head in a good place for the most part. I’m sure I’ll be back at Haliburton again. It’s a great event, run by great people, in a beautiful place.


And to finish off- a list of my gear that I used:


Shoes- Altra Olympus 2.0. My feet had no issues at all- not even a hot spot
Socks- Farm to Feet Merino Crew. Even though my feet were wet for most of the second half, they were great- no foot issues at all.
Shorts- Salomon Twin Skin
Shirt- Altra team shirt
Hat- Nuun team trucker hat
Pack- Salomon S Lab Sense race vest

When you go into something with no expectations, you won't be disappointed.............

I've been dealing with an irritable patellar tendon for more than a year, so needless to say, my training hasn't been ideal. I'm at the point now where I'm able to run pain free as long as I don't push the pace, so I've been doing okay at getting long runs in, but I haven't run with any intensity in a long time. Like, a really long time.

So why not sign up for a ridiculously hard trail race?

The Quebec Mega Trail Skyrace is a 48km race held at Mont St Anne, just outside Quebec City. It's a 2 loop course, starting out with a 25km loop that climbs up and around the side of the mountain, gaining 915m along the way, and then a 23km second loop that goes straight up the face of the mountain on one of the black diamond ski runs, gaining 1100m (most of it in the first 2.5km climb).

I headed up to Quebec on Friday afternoon with a couple of friends (Corey and Dale) and we camped just a couple of km from the ski hill- a perfect spot for an early start the next morning. I had a somewhat decent sleep, and woke up around 5am to get some food and coffee into me, and then we headed over to the start area. When we got there, we ran into another friend, Sebastian. As we headed for the coral to start, Corey and Dale made their way a bit closer to the front of the group, while Sebastian and I decided on a different strategy- we stayed at the very back of the pack, so that we wouldn't get caught up in the faster pace and go too hard early on.

 At 8:15am we were off, and right away the course started up the hill. We were taking it nice and easy- jogging the flats, and walking the hills, and passing quite a few people while still staying with a relaxed pace. By about 5km in, the crowd had thinned out a bit, and we hit the top of the first big climb, and I was able to open up my pace a bit. Sebastian had managed to scoot ahead a crowd of people on one of the hills, so he was out in front of me by then, and I was enjoying running on the trails pretty much by myself. My plan for the race was to stay as relaxed as possible for the first 25km loop, then survive the big climb, and then leave it all out there for the last 20km.

The first loop was pretty uneventful. There were a few spots where the trees would open up and we'd have great vistas, and the trails were great- mostly double track, with a bit of dirt road, and some sections of really twisty and rooty single track (which I really liked). I just concentrated on taking it easy, and not trying to catch people or keep up with anyone who passed me. I hit the end of the loop after about 2:40, which seemed pretty good to me.

Right away after hitting the 25km checkpoint at the end of the first loop, the course headed straight up the mountain- no switchbacks, just straight up. It was a long slog, and it tool me almost an hour to do that 2km climb, but nobody was moving fast on that section. As I was going up that section I was really wishing that I had decided to use trekking poles for this race. They would have been a huge help.

I spent a couple of minutes at the aid station at the top, letting my legs recover a bit, and also talking to my friend Corey. The hill had really taken in out of him, and it seemed that his electrolytes had gone out of balance, so he was hanging out at the aid station to see if things would turn around (they didn't, unfortunately).

From the aid station, we bombed straight down another ski run (just in case our legs weren't trashed from the climb up!) and rejoined the route that we'd done on the first loop. From about  30km to 35km things started to go downhill (figuratively) for me. Even though the trail was relatively easy and mostly downhill for that section, I was struggling. My stomach was turning a bit, and I was just not feeling the love. This has happened to me before in races, and one of the real keys for me is to make a conscious effort to get my head back in it, and stop focusing on the negative thoughts (like how much I hated running right then). By about 35km my outlook changed, and my energy picked up, and I felt great. For the past few km I'd been with a group of about 10 people, and I left them all behind and passed a few others along the way. That held up until about 42km, and then I started to hit the wall again. I was trying to stay positive, but the stomach issues were starting again, and my calves were starting to cramp. I slowed the pace down, and just concentrated on moving forward. In the last 5km I really slowed down, and was passed by a lot of people, but any time I tried to pick up the pace, my calves would start to seize, so I just needed to manage that and keep moving. With about 2km to go, we had 2 river crossings, and man, did that ever feel good. I was so tempted to just stay there in the water, but I rested for a few moments, dunked my head, splashed the cold water over the rest of me, and carried on. The cold water seemed to revive me a bit and was able to run more strongly for the last bit into the finish line, finishing in 6:16.

All things considered I'm pretty happy with my race. I wasn't in great race shape, so I couldn't really expect to run fast. All I really could hope for was to cover the distance and enjoy the day, which I did pretty well. One thing for sure though- I need to get in more hill training if I'm going to do more events like this!


GEAR LIST
Shoes- Altra Lone Peak 2.5
Socks- DeFeet Merino crew
Shorts- Salomon Twinskin
Shirt- Altra Team T
Pack- Salomon S Lab Sense Set
Watch- Suunto Ambit 3

So................... here's another blog post about wool running gear. I had posted a review in the early winter about a Woolx mid weight insulating merino wool base layer (spoiler- I love it), and then recently posted a review of merino wool socks from Farm to Feet (another spoiler- I love them). Now I'm going to post a review of a light weight merino wool t shirt- the Outback T Shirt by Woolx (http://www.woolx.com/woolx-lightweight-merino-wool-tshirt-for-men.html).

Note- this buff looking fellow is their model, not me.

For an insulating layer, of course wool makes sense- everyone knows wool is warm. And for socks- sure, everyone gets that wool socks are comfortable. But wool for a running t shirt? It's easy to understand how you might think that doesn't sound great. When it's cold, there's nothing cozier than wool, but when you're hot and sweaty, wool isn't the first thing that comes to mind. However, once you've tried one of these shirts, you won't think twice about running in it on even the hottest of days.

Woolx makes the softest, silkiest clothing you can imagine. There is none of the itchiness or scratchiness that you might expect from wool if you've never experienced the performance merino wool gear that some companies have been producing. The fit of this also is perfect for me. This is listed on their website as a slim fit, which is what I like. This shirt fits on the snug side for sure, which is what I prefer when running. I don't like to have extra fabric billowing around.

To test this out, I've gone on several runs in different conditions- cool, rainy, warm & humid. The warm and humid is what I was really looking forward to testing this out in. In the cool weather, it was nice and comfy, but nothing to make it really stand out. I wanted to see what would happen when I went for a long sweaty run in this, so last weekend I did 2.5 hours of trails, with temperatures at about 20C (68F) and pretty high humidity. As was expected, I worked up a good sweat, and soaked everything I was wearing. I had no issues at all with chafing or rubbing with this shirt.

One of the great things about wool as well is that it tends to not hold stink like synthetic fabrics do. I'm sure all of us have gear that, no matter how many times you wash it, as soon as you pull it out of the closet you can smell the stink. Wool really doesn't get that, so if the stink of synthetics bothers you, wool is definitely worth looking at.

The one other thing to take into consideration is cost. This shirt retails for $58, which is pretty steep for a shirt, but not out of line with some of the big name brands. I think it's worth it to spend a few more bucks for something you love than something you think is just okay.

Bottom line- this shirt goes on the list of "running stuff that I love."

Socks are socks right? There's not much you can do in the way of adding bells and whistles to socks, so other than those toe socks, you'd think that they're all more or less the same. But anyone who has done any amount of running in socks that don't quite work for them know that's not the case.

As a runner, your shoes are your most important piece of gear for your comfort, but no matter how comfortable your shoes are, if your socks don't work for you, your feet can be a mess, especially if you're running for a long time, or in wet conditions.

A while back the nice folks at Farm to Feet (http://www.farmtofeet.com/) sent me a couple of pairs of their Boulder Crew Traditional Lightweight merino wool socks to test out.

It's probably worth saying that I'm a big fan of merino, and not just for socks. The Woolx midweight sweater that I got in the fall has been my favourite by far this winter, and my light weight base layer merino shirt is what I almost always reach for first when getting dressed for a run. And for racing, especially ultra distance, I always wear wool socks. This past year I did the Cayuga Trails 50 Mile, which had multiple river and creek crossings, meaning that my feet were wet for about 9 hours, but with the wool socks I was wearing, I had no issues at all.

Now to the Farm to Feet socks- as soon as you touch them, you realize right away that they are probably the softest wool socks you've ever felt. As soon as you slip them on your feet you also realize that they're probably the most comfortable socks you've ever worn. There is almost no seem for the toe, the amount of stretchiness feels just right, and the softness feels so good. They almost feel too comfy and cushy to think that you'd want to put them to the test of a long, wet, muddy trail run.

All winter long these have been my go to socks. We had a pretty mild and slushy winter here in Ontario, so a lot of my runs resulted in having wet feet, and while wet feet in synthetic socks can be a bit nasty, the wool kept things warm and comfortable. My wife felt the same way, and more often than not she'd be digging through my gear looking for these socks to wear on her run.

My only (minor) complaint is that the softness of the wool might make them a touch less durable than some of the other wool socks I have. On one pair, one time when I was pulling them on I put my finger through them where the heel material meets the upper part of the sock.

Pricing of these is in line or maybe a bit higher than most performance socks, but with their materials and manufacturing 100% from the USA that's to be expected.

Who are these socks best for?

If you are a trail runner who spends a lot of time on wet/ muddy trails, I think these are a great option. If you are someone who is very picky about foot comfort, these are definitely worth checking out.

I'll gladly pick up more of these for myself, which pretty much says it all.

I love merino wool running gear. I love how it's warm without being bulky, I love how it's light weight, and I love how it doesn't hold the sweat stink like synthetic clothing does.

A little while back the nice folks at Woolx (http://www.woolx.com/) sent me an Explorer Mid Weight 3/4 Zip Base Layer shirt (http://www.woolx.com/woolx_mens_x507_xplorer_midweight_quarter_zip.html) to test and review. I've been holding off on the review in hopes that we'd get some really cold weather that I could try it out in, but it's now December 22, and I'm still running in shorts here in Ontario, so I figure I'll write my review anyway.

Woolx is a pretty new company, and from what I can tell, the people who work there are really into the outdoors. I've been following them on Twitter and Facebook to see what they're all about, and they really seem to be outdoor enthusiasts who are making the type of gear that they want and use themselves. One of the key things about their products is that they guarantee no itch:

"Wear and wash your WoolX garments. If you decide at anytime that they aren't the softest and most itch-free Merino Wool clothing you've ever worn,you can return them for a full refund. We'll even pay the shipping back!"

My first impression when this arrived was that it really is soft. Other wool gear I have is kind of smooth (which is nice too) but this has a soft and cuddly sort of feel to it. Here's what I like about it:

• It has a really good bulk to insulation ratio- you feel warm without feeling like you're wrapped up like a mummy. It's thinner than Polartec, so you don't feel as bulky
• It doesn't get as clammy and damp feeling as fleece does. When you work up a good sweat in a fleece, it tends to hold the sweat in, and you feel pretty wet. This seems to wick the sweat away quite well.
• It's very light- compared to a Polartec 1/4 Zip that had been my go to lightweight insulation, this is about 20% lighter
• It doesn't get stinky. Synthetic layers stink. I have lots of shirts that I wash after wearing it a time or two, and as soon as I pull them over my head I can smell that lingering smell of swear. Merino wool does not get that.

The midweight is definitely more for cold weather than moderate spring/ fall temperatures. If I wear just a t shirt underneath it, it's perfect for right around freezing or maybe a couple of degrees above. There have been quite a few early morning runs where it's about 1 or 2°C , and halfway through the run I've got the zipper most of the way down. There also have been a few mornings when it's been a bit below freezing and I've worn my lightweight running jacket over it, and I've felt quite overdressed within a few minutes, so I'm pretty sure that if we ever get winter weather, this will work well for cold weather layering.

In summary, I think this a great piece of gear. The retail price is $99, so it's definitely more expensive than a synthetic alternative, but it's in line with the prices of the other, big name Merino wool companies. I'm very impressed with it, and I'm quite sure that this won't be the last piece of Woolx clothing that I'll own.

For the past couple of years, I've liked to do a blog post at the end of December summing up how my year of running went. I find it helpful to look back and give some thought to what worked, what didn't work, and what I learned through it all.

By most measures, 2015 wasn't a great year of running for me, but by at least one other key measure, it was a success. I started off the year with some big plans. 2014 was the year that I switched my focus almost entirely from road to trail running (I've always preferred running on trails, but I really wanted to run in the Boston Marathon before changing gears) and I had a couple of really good races. My first Ultra was a 50K, and I was second overall. My 2nd Ultra was the 65km UTHC, and I was 3rd in my AG, which I thought was a great result for a somewhat competitive race. Coming into 2015 I was planning on building on the year that I had in 2014, and move up in distance, with my 2 goal races being the Cayuga Trails 50 Mile and the UTHC 125km. My training through winter was going really well. I was hitting my mileage, and the paces that I was running for my speed sessions were about 15 seconds/ km faster than what I'd been running a year earlier in my build up for Boston. I had a couple of early season races- a snowshoe race and one of the 5 Peaks trails races, and both of them went pretty well. Then, in April, I started having a nagging pain in both legs, on the bump below my knees, which is where the patellar tendon inserts to the tibia.

I started seeing my Chiropractor right away and he got going on a pretty aggressive acupuncture treatment. That seemed to settle things down a bit, but for the the 4 weeks leading into the Cayuga Trails 50 Mile I had to cut my training way back, both in mileage and intensity. I got to race day feeling not too bad, and ran pretty well for about 43 miles, then the lack of training over the past month hit and I struggled for the final 7 miles. I took some time off after that race, expecting to get rested up and be able to start the build up for the UTHC, but it just didn't work out. Every time I'd try to build any kind of mileage or speed, the tendon issue would flare up again, and I'd have to take more time off. By the time UTHC came around in mid September I'd only managed to get 3 runs over 20km since May, so I knew I wasn't in great shape to run 125km. The longer version (with photos!) is in a blog post from earlier this year, but in summary, my plan was to take it nice and easy, and just try to enjoy a day out on the trails. I managed to do just that for about 6 hours, until I slipped while coming down the side of a mountain and aggravated the tendon on my right leg. I knew pretty quickly that my day was done, and I limped out to where I could get picked up by the medic's truck. Since that race I've been trying to get out for runs, but taking it nice and easy. I'm still not 100%, but I can at least get out 4-5 times per week, and I'm enjoying it.

That sums up the part of the running that didn't go well- I only finished one of my goal races, and at that it was a death march at the end. Now for the good- 2015 was a year where I got a lot better at stopping and smelling the roses with my running. My last blog post touched on this- previously all I cared about was hitting my paces and nailing workouts. This year, I learned to enjoy it a bit more. If I wanted to stop and enjoy I sunrise, I would. If the the dog wanted to jump in the lake and go for a swim, we'd stop. Sometimes I'd jump in with her. If we got to a spot with a good view we'd stop and admire it. This shift was what went well in 2015. I learned to enjoy the whole experience of running more. It became more than just being about the workouts and getting ready for races to being about the experience of being outside, getting exercise and fresh air, and enjoying the moment.

I'm not sure what 2016 is going to bring. I have a couple of big goals that I'm really looking forward to, but it's all going to depend on if my body agrees to cooperate. The patellar tendon issue is still a concern, and I'm still worried about it flaring up and putting me on the sidelines again. Either way I'm going to proceed with my new outlook. If I'm nailing workouts, or if I'm just managing to do slow 10km runs 4x per week, I'm still going to make it a priority to savour the experience, enjoy the sunrises, be as happy as my dog (might as aim high.............) . Stay tuned.................

Being goal oriented and being a road runner go really well together. Running on the road is all about the numbers- keeping your legs turning over at exactly your goal pace is something that is very easy to track, and even obsess about. If you keep an eye on your watch, you'll know right away if you're starting to drop your pace, and you can adjust. The training is great for that too- very defined workouts with prescribed paces that you can focus on. When I was trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon, I was very focused on the the numbers I needed. I stuck to my training plan religiously, and would kill myself in the workouts to hit the paces I needed in order to run a BQ time.

Then I shifted gears from roads to trails..........

The goals (at least for me) when running on trails are a bit less easy to quantify. When I was running a marathon, I knew down to the second what I would consider a successful race, but on trails, it's quite different. I still want to perform well, and place well, but more than that I want to enjoy the experience. I want to be happy during the race. I want to chat with cool people. I want stop and look at amazing scenery. I want to enjoy a beautiful sunrise.

Over the last couple of years, my training has changed a bit as my attitude toward running has changed. Now that I'm more about enjoying the experience than nailing the workout, if in the middle of a run, my dog wants to go for a quick swim, we'll stop so she can jump in the lake. Maybe I'll jump in too. If the sunrise is particulalry beautiful, I'll stop and get a photo of it. 3 years ago that never would have happened.

I know that my speed has dropped a bit, and I may have swung a bit too far in the other direction, but I'm running happier now than I was before. Right now I'm in a down season, so I'm taking it a bit easy. I'm still getting out 5 or 6 times per week, but it's nice and easy, and just kind of maintaining a base level of fitness before starting to ramp up again around Christmas. I think that I'll try to get back some of the intensity that I had in previous years of marathon trainining as I'd love to do well in my 2016 races, but I don't want to lose sight of focussing on enjoying the experience, and not just the results.

Running is fun. Running with a group of people is more fun. Running with a group of people as their Pace Bunny is the most fun.

For those of you who have been a pace bunny, I'm sure you'll completely agree. For those of you who haven't been a pace bunny, take my word for it- you really should do it sometime. What could be better? You still get the excitement of taking part in the race, but you're not just another runner in the crowd, you're a celebrity! When you're walking around before the race with your bunny ears on you can hear people saying "oh... there's one of the pace bunnies....." or coming up to you to ask for advice, or find out about what other pace bunnies will be out there. You'll have people coming up and asking to get your picture taken with them, but the real fun starts once the race in on.

Once the race gets going, if it's a smaller event like the PEC marathon, there's usually a loose group who kind of drift in and out with you, and usually a few who try to stick with you all the way. It's great to talk to the people in your group to find out where they're from, what their goals are, what other races they've done and so on. As the race goes on, the easy chatting tends to die off a bit, and it switches to me giving encouragement to the runners who have stuck with me, and encouraging the runners who's pace is dropping and I'm starting to pass to try to keep up and finish with me.

As you come down the home stretch, that's where you can really help people- when I get within a km of the finish line I always look for runners who seem to be struggling and encourage them to keep pushing. It's amazing how many times I've said to someone "if you run in with me you'll be under X time" and they find the strength to dig deep and keep pushing. Other times down the homestretch you'll find the people who are just happily cruising in and enjoying the experience.

Every time you cross the finish line as a pace bunny, you'll have people coming up after the race and giving hugs, or shaking your hand, and telling you that they couldn't have done it without you. One of my favourite pace bunny moments was crossing the line with a girl who was about 18 or 19, and she grabbed her parents and brought them over to meet her bunny and get her picture taken with me. As great as it is to run hard and have a PB, that sort of thing is better than a personal achievement.  There's nothing like being able to help someone else accomplish their goal.

After the race on Sunday I was driving home, and I realized that my cheek muscles were sore, and then realized that was because I'd been smiling so much for the past few hours. That doesn't happen very often when running a race on your own!