Going the Extra Mile

Run for the Toad

Paris, Ontario, October 3 2015

Every trail has its secrets, its challenges, and its attractions. This, I am learning, is a major feature of trail running: pounding the pavement can’t match it for piquing and holding your interest. The two races I entered this fall were both challenging and rewarding – and as different as could be.

If the Haliburton Forest is Joaquin Phoenix – wild, unpredictable, and exciting – then the Run for the Toad, which I ran on October 3, is George Clooney – refined, poised, and easy on the eyes. The Run for the Toad is a race you'd like to sit down and have a beer with. 

Due to the purgatorial experience of trying to drive a car anywhere near Toronto (even at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning the traffic was stopped dead on the 401), the large time buffer I had left myself to get to the race site had evaporated by the time I arrived. I had to park about a kilometre from the start and was in a vile temper.

“Do you need a lift?” asked a lady in a car who pulled up beside me while I was walking back to my car after picking up my race kit. “You’re parked in the far lot, aren’t you?”

It turned out that she was a volunteer who was driving to the spot where she was going to marshal the runners in the race. Somehow she had divined that she was heading to the same place I was.  A small gesture like this went a long way toward making me glad I had come.

The race course follows a circuitous route through the Pinehurst Lake Conservation Area near Paris, Ontario. There are two well-balanced laps of 12.5k for the 25k racers, and four for the 50k racers. Most of the run takes place under cover of forest, but there are a few outings into open fields. On race day this meant emerging from the trees into a ferocious wind; one aid station had their Smarties and cookies blown right off the food table to someplace probably not in Kansas anymore.

The paths are usually wide enough to allow two people to run abreast with room for a third to pass. This came in handy as I began to be lapped by the fast runners, whose feet seemed to barely touch the pine-needled ground as they flew through the forest with a speed and agility I could only admire. “On your left!” became a familiar cry from racers zooming past me like cars in the fast lane of the Parkway on a Friday night, and I almost always got out the way in time.

I took some advice from my own experience at the Haliburton Forest and worried about pace and time not at all. I was 6 kilometres into my second lap before I even thought to look at my watch. It was a cool, grey day and I stayed comfortable at the back of the pack in my torn tights and worn blue running jacket, both relics of the last century.

Old wardrobe – older runner.

The finale of each lap features a run up a sharp, grassy hill, which the regulars have named Horror Hill. It isn’t really a horror, just a chance to get rid of any excess energy you might have been saving up over the previous 11k.

I liked everything about the Run for the Toad. From check-in to aid stations to finish line, it’s an event that is focused on the runners. I finished the 25k feeling refreshed, not trashed, and definitely more cheerful than I had when I arrived. On my way back to my car, I came across my helpful volunteer again. She spent some time trying to sell me on the idea of trying the whole 50k next year. Who knows? Maybe she succeeded. 

I am writing this from Death Valley National Park in California, where the temperature today is 40C and the cool boreal forest trails of a week ago seem ages away. I am here for a cycling, running, and hiking vacation, and I hope to write more about that in the days to come.