As I was quick to find out while trying to train and stay in shape, living in British Columbia means hills. Going up them, going down them. Many people have heard of the Grouse Grind which is a trail that takes you up Grouse Mountain (rather than taking the gondola).
I haven’t done that one yet, but there is also the Abby Grind in Abbotsford, which is more convenient, since Abbotsford is where I live. I’ve wanted to tackle this one for a while but I waited till I didn’t have the Cultus Lake Triathlon on the horizon. This weekend was my chance, especially since the weather was nice and dry.
The trail starts off steep, which is good preparation for what is to come. There are few flat or even gradual stretches to give you relief from climbing. And don’t count on stairs or ladders to make things easier either. There were times I don’t think I made more than 10 feet of elevation progress before I wanted to catch my breath. I did appreciate the signs marking the 1/4, 1/2 and 3/4 marks.
Progress Markers
There’s at least one good lookout before the top, but I think it was before the 1/4 mark, so there’s plenty of time to wish you were at the top.
There were plenty of people of all ages, shapes and sizes making their way up and down the trail, so that’s encouraging to anyone who wants to try it; one just has to take one’s time. There aren’t a lot of markers to reassure you that you’re going the right way, but the trail is always obvious, and the right way is to go is up. Eventually of course, you’re treated to the glory of making it to the top and enjoying the view.
Going down seems easier at first, but I slipped a few times in the dust. I avoided falling on my butt, however my recovery was probably more dangerous since I ended up correcting by taking some steps forward onto uncertain footing and could have pitched downhill. I thought I spent roughly an hour going up and a half hour coming back down, but Strava makes it look like it was roughly equal time in each direction. I’d like to repeat the challenge again in a few months or maybe the new year.
Well, the first weekend of May was a busy one. We stayed in downtown Vancouver while my eldest went to a gymnastics competition on the Saturday, then a training camp on the Sunday. The Lightning Kid had an ultrasound at BC Children’s hospital, then on Sunday he auditioned (successfully!) for Vancouver Kids Fashion Week.
My big adventure was probably the Canaqua Sports MudSkipper Swim Run “Ice Cracker” Try It” event.
So, swimruns are events where you swim with shoes on and exit the water and start running immediately, without a transition of any kind. Everything you need for swimming or running must be on your body. I’ve been curious about this for a while, and I got so curious that I bought a pair of Solomon tech amphibians in anticipation of the event, after having tried to do a little swimming with a pair of Vibram Barefoot shoes – that attempt did not seem promising. The purchase was made in a bout of stress-related retail therapy, but sometimes buying something will prompt you into taking the plunge into a new venture so you can retroactively justify the purchase.
Swimrun seemed like a natural fit for me, since it’s an outdoor multisport endurance event, and it even takes out the biking from triathlon, which is probably my least favourite discipline. The Ice Cracker event was the first of the season and promised the coldest water temperatures, but since I play around with cold plunges and cold therapy and I have a killer wetsuit, I was less intimidated by that part.
What I was intimidated by was the technical aspects and the overall distance. Most of the events are described in total distance, so how much of it is swimming and how much is running seemed to be up in the air. The “try-It” event was a great idea for me, because it would give me a taste of it without me putting in too much extra training time to get up to swims more than 1km.
Due to the Vancouver Marathon occurring that same morning, we had some trouble navigating our way out of Vancouver, and when we got to Belcarra Regional Park, we couldn’t find the race site. Luckily, Chris the on-site race director was available and responsive by text, so we found ourselves at the race site with a small number of brave souls, many of whom were there for a pure open-water swim race (no running).
The pre-race briefing made it clear that it would be a 900m swim followed by a 2.6km run around Lake Sassamat for the total of 3.5km. I would rather that swim had been broken into 2 legs of 450m with a run between them because I think that represents the swimrun experience better, especially at higher levels (the other swimrun events were 6.5 and 13km) and also because I wasn’t confident about finishing 900m at a respectable pace.
The longer swimruns went in the first waves, whereas the Try-It athletes started with the open-water swimmers. I have to say, swimming with shoes is like torture. It’s common for swimrun athletes to use a pull-buoy and hand paddles (this is legal) so that their legs are inactive but floating while they get extra pull from the hand paddles. My wetsuit always ensures my lower body is floating, and I didn’t like the idea of the extra strain on my shoulders by using hand paddles for the whole race – I only train with them for 100-200m at a time. You’re also responsible for carrying everything with you on the run, so I didn’t want to do that.
The swim course was triangular with the leg to the first buoy probably being well over half the total distance. Nowhere did I feel slower due to the drag of the shoes than going around the buoys. The open water swimmers had left us way behind, but I thought I was in second of the swimrun athletes doing the Try-It Course. It was a beautiful day, and the water temperature had been reported at 16.5 degrees Celsius. I was worried about my hands getting cold, but I hadn’t thought about my face! I stopped noticing the cold, or got warmed up after 200-300m.
When I reached the swim exit, there were no other swimmers exiting the water, so I gently clambered over the rocks to the trail. One of the volunteers warned me about “swim brain,” and sure enough, I felt a little off-balance on my first few steps. Once that cleared, I was on my way. The Techamphibians did fine on the trail, which was gravel in parts, but in others, a regular hiking trail with roots, rocks, etc. I had tested them out on a short run or two beforehand. Swimming with them counts as breaking the “nothing new on race day rule”, but the upper mesh ensured water drained out so I wasn’t sloshing around as I ran. They felt almost like sandals, but slightly more supportive. I did notice a lack of cushioning when I went over the cement “Float Walk” that spans the southern tip of the lake (people use it to fish off of), but for trail-running, they are reasonably suitable – overall, I’m pretty happy with my purchase.
I had taken off my swim cap and held it in my hand to stay cool, and I unzipped the back of my wetsuit, but I was reluctant to take off the top part for cooling, as that’s not what a swimrun athlete would do if they had another swim leg to look forward to. I think managing your pace to not overheat might be a fundamental part of the sport, at least if you wear a wetsuit. I felt the heat the most when exposed to the sun on the Float Walk. Eventually, I did take off the top part of the suit, not only for cooling, but my arm was itching something awful.
When I had rounded most of the lake and saw a beach, I thought I was done, but it turns out there are two beaches, so I did have to gut it out a little further.
I only got passed once on foot, which was by a bone-dry couple out on a fun/training run, not part of the Swimrun. So at the end I figured I had finished second. Not so, I was second last.
I’m a little unsure if I want to pursue this sport further. I have to get up to longer distances in both swim and run anyway, so maybe it’ll make sense to try a longer one that will expose me to the ins and outs (literally, in and out of the water) of swimrun.
I’ve sung the praises of the Etobicoke Creek Trail many times in this space. I use it for running, burbathlon, mountain biking and access to Centennial Park. It even figures largely into my route when I bike to work. When it was announced last spring that they would be doing some major construction to pave it, I should have been happy. I steered clear for the period of the construction, and like this blog, I wasn’t being that active anyway.
When I was reminded that the construction was scheduled to end in the spring of 2018, I decided to take an exploratory run.  Where the trail begins from Fleetwood Park it has become a paved trail, which I have mixed feelings about. I guess it’ll be safer for bikes, and cleaner, but the gravel was appealing to give an off-road, in-forest experience very close to home.
I guess the good news is that this would give me a paved path to Centennial Park, and when I want to bike to work, I could connect to Eglinton Avenue, where they have expanded and improved a separate bike path. That means I could take a road bike which is lighter and faster than the commuter bike I’ve been using to avoid flat tires caused by gravel on this path and in my traverse of Centennial Park.
A little further up (i.e. going North) the trail there used to be a part that was not traversable by bike; you’d have to dismount and walk your bike past roots and stumps, etc. I always liked this part because it offered a great challenge to navigate and was good training for the coordination needed for off-road running. It looks like this part has been made more accessible by creating a smooth path by the creek shoreline.
After that, it used to be a gravel path all the way to Eglinton Avenue. It actually still is, but the construction seems to be intended to widen the trail, and its made a real ‘moonscape’ of the area.
The trail’s access to/from Eglinton is still closed due to construction, so I guess there may still be work to be done to improve the look of this stretch of the trail (photos were taken March 24th).  Still, I feel a sense of loss, because I know running or riding this trail won’t be like the way it used to be. I have a lot of good memories from the trail the way it was – many of which have been captured in this space.  I can only be hopeful that the end result will continue to make this an enjoyable space; the best case scenario is that the changes make it more accessible to more people, and help people be active and even aid in ecologically friendly transportation.
Has ‘progress’ destroyed/altered one of your favourite green spaces?
