Québec Mega Trail 50K

Saint-Ferréol-les-Neiges, Quebec, Canada

Saturday, July 1, 2023

My 3rd 50K and my hardest race to date.  This is billed as one of the toughest races in Canada, and from my perspective, it sure lived up to it!

Signed up for this way back on January 2, as Matthew and I got the very last two of 500 spots in the 50K (sometimes listed as 52K, sometimes as 50K).  It's pretty incredible to me that this sells out six months in advance!  And there are several other distances as well, ranging up to 100 miles, and those sell out well in advance also, with a combined total of about 3,000 runners!

Day before:  finish line is set up and ready to go

Bib pick-up

Race morning prep:  We were staying at a resort at the Mont Sainte Anne ski area, conveniently the race hotel and right at the finish line.  Got up at 5am to have standard race day morning fare of oatmeal before leaving the hotel to board the school buses leaving between 6 and 6:30am.  Unlike last year's 55K in remote interior Iceland, this was a ten-minute bus ride versus four hours.  (To be fair, the Iceland race bus was a deluxe coach bus and included a stop at a breakfast buffet, but this is just a ten-minute ride today, so the school buses worked fine.)

Race morning bus loading from Mont Sainte-Anne

Race equipment:  There was no drop bag, so it was wear what you're running in.  My gear for today:

• Hat (my favorite blue Saucony tech running cap)
• Short-sleeve shirt (I favor this over singlets only when running with a pack)
• NB shorts with zippered pocket
• Shoes (and socks) - VJ Spark shoes.  I hemmed and hawed on this one.  My frequent slipping and falling in the Salomon Ultraglide just last weekend at Gunstock Trail Fest ruled those shoes out, and most guidance and reviews on the Spark recommend usage only up to a half-marathon.  Actually thought about buying a pair of VJ Xtrm 2 (one guy that went past me last weekend on wet rocks while I slid and fell showed them to me post-race and swore by them), but I wouldn't have enough time to break them in.  Finally reading a reputable review where the reviewer wore the Spark on his technical 50K in Utah without issue, I went with it.
• Hydration pack:  Nathan Vapor Air 7L pack, filled with ~1.5 liters of water and ice, 7 GUs, 2 Honey Stinger waffles, cell phone, and mandatory space blanket and compression bandage

Despite having almost an hour pre-race, and only warming up for a mile (intentionally), the time went by quickly and we were soon showing our bibs (with wave number) to enter the corral as appropriate:

Nearly identical to the bib last year at Laugavegur 55K (Iceland),
the top 2/3 of the bib shows race / bib / wave / name info,
and the bottom 1/3 shows aid stations and distance/elevation between,
intentionally printed upside down so you can flip up during the race and reference.

Here's what that aid station / course map looks like from the proper viewing angle.
This is how I referenced my race while I was running it (in terms of how far to the next
aid station and how much elevation), and thus this is how I will write my race report:

Runners milling about the start area

Start to Mestachibo (6.6K):  I lined up in about the third row, exchanged "Good luck" with Matthew, and we were off.  The first section was mostly wide trails, a campground road, and a downhill on a mix of an asphalt road (the only one on the course) in a small village, followed by technical single-track.

One minute before start:  now it's very real!

About one mile in, in the campground, I saw Matthew a ways ahead of me, and I figured that would be the last time I saw him until after the race.  More on that later.  The asphalt road was only 1 kilometer long.  There were a number of spectators out here, presumably local residents, and I passed a number of people on the downhill road.

We left the asphalt road for good, just over 2 miles in.  (You can see I can't make up my mind whether to write in terms of kilometers or miles.  I feel conversant in both, and would really like to see the US abandon the archaic imperial measurement and join the modern world in using metric, but that's probably a topic for another day.)  

Leaving the road, we dropped about 600' over the next mile, on very technical terrain.  We crossed a dirt road, where there was our first water stop and aid station.  I quickly grabbed a couple pieces of fudge, a slice of watermelon, and trekked on.

Mestachibo to Mont Ste Anne (17.6K):  Most of this 11K section was slightly downhill along a river, but man was this technical.  Constant roots and rocks technical.  Many things to jump over and many places where I had to use my hands.  I was doing fine for a while, or at least I thought I was, but this is the longest technical section I've ever raced and maybe ever run, and after a while I was getting tired.  I thought I was good at running technical sections, but what I found is I was holding up a number of [much better] trail runners and you couldn't really pass on this super technical single-track.  Picture a school bus with an increasing line of cars building up behind it.  That was me, and like the school bus, I eventually pulled over to let the train of runners go by.  Several times actually.

Much of the Mestachibo section of the
course looked like this.  Runnable, 
but quite technical and you really had to pay 
attention to your footfalls.

And then we came up on the first of two suspension bridges.  I started running across the bridge and perhaps not surprisingly, it started to sway.  I was never at risk of falling off the bridge, but I just awkwardly kept hitting alternating sides of the bridge and the cables supporting it.  Someone behind me shouted in French and I believe they said I should just walk it, which I switched to doing and it ended the swaying.

Very awkward to run across these suspension bridges.
It had been decades since I'd been on one, and I forgot how much
they swayed!

After the suspension bridge crossings, we were back onto a long technical section on the opposite side of the river.  When we finally left the river, we soon came upon an absolutely amazing waterfall.  It was so stunning that I stopped to take a photo, not caring if I lost a minute and if competitors went by me.  Even more surprising was the next competitor coming up on me noticed me taking the photo, also stopped, and asked me if he'd like me to take my photo.  Sure!  Why not?  When will I be here again?

Leaving the waterfall, we were only a mile away from the aid station at Mont Ste Anne, and there was no technical terrain in this mile; however, there was a 300' nearly straight up vertical climb on wooden stairs.

Waterfall known as "Chutes Larose"
Loud and very impressive; "had" to stop and get a pic

After the waterfall, we had a long wooden stairway climb, and then just a mile on mostly dirt roads to the next aid station.

One of several steep wooden stairways
that we went up today

Mont Ste Anne to Summit #1 (22K):  I was just so happy to see this aid station.  I was only ten miles in, but I had been out there for more than two hours by now, much of it on very technical terrain, and I was tired and hungry.  Very happy to see Jana not only at the aid station taking a photo, but coming over to help me get my pack refilled and get some food.

Mont Ste Anne aid station!  Finally!  A welcome feast
for the eyes and the body.

Running into the aid station
(pic by Jana)

With my cheeks full of food

I gorged myself on fudge, watermelon, and even a grilled cheese sandwich.  And when I was done with that, I went back for more of the same.  Jana said that Matthew had come and gone through the aid station pretty quickly, but for me, I just needed a lot of replenishment.

This next stretch is the shortest distance between aid stations at just 4.4KM, but far from the easiest at over a 2,000' climb in that short distance.  It was just a complete stugglefest for me, and even hiking (no, I can't even call it "power hiking") I pulled over several times to let people pass me.  The further in I went the worse I felt, despite having consumed lots of fluids and food.  One runner talked to me for quite a while as we made our up the trail; really nice guy from Ottawa who also seemed to be struggling a bit and said this was his hardest 50K ever.  At one point just before exiting onto an open sun ski slope, there was a race official and my Ottawa friend asked him how far to the aid station.  The answer came back as about 400 meters.  Yes!  I can hold on for that long.  It was very hot on the open ski trail, but the aid station was within reach and that kept me moving.  Barely.

Almost there.  To the Summit #1 aid station that is.
The longest climb is done, but I feel really beat.

Summit #1 to Summit #2 (26.6K):  The good news is I made it to the 22K aid station.  The bad news is that two medics pulled me aside and said I didn't look good at all and suggested I either take a rest or DNF.  I sat in a chair while I weighed this decision.  I'm only halfway in, I feel terrible, and the gondola taking people back down the mountain is running and it's right here!  On the other hand, I trained for this and came all the way up here, and don't want to feel that there is unfinished business here that I "have" to come back for.  The guy sitting in the chair next to me chooses the DNF option as he says "Fini" twice.  Matthew calls to me and I see him getting food at the aid station.  I'm really confused why he's here as he should be way ahead of me, until I realize (or maybe he explained to me, I can't remember) that HE IS ahead of me, as Summit #1 and Summit #2 aid stations are actually the same place, and even though he is right across from me on the other side of a makeshift barrier, he is actually 4.6K ahead of me on the course.

OK.  I chose the rest option over the DNF option, but before the medics lead me away to a separate room in the summit lodge, I tell them I want to go over to talk to my son.  That will be the last time I see Matthew during the race.  I give him an update, wish him luck, and and then follow the medics and lay down on a cot while they took off my shoes and got electrolytes into me.  I just can't say enough good things about them.  They took my disgusting muddy and wet shoes, removed the insoles, and brought them outside to dry out a bit while another went and got me the electrolytes and fluids, and they repeatedly checked in on me as I zoned out and closed my eyes.  After half an hour, they said I looked much better and was good to continue if I wanted.  I do!  I put on my shoes, hydration pack, hat, etc., felt bad as I looked back upon on my disgustingly sweat soaked cot, but I trek on, grazed one more time at the smorgasbord table, and followed the roped off path and signs as it led me outside as a number of volunteers cheered for me.  Again, total class act and awesome race organization.

We drop 1,000' over the next mile on a wide ski slope.  Partway down I see a fellow runner lying on the ground with his mandatory space blanket wrapped around him and a medic attending to him.  Not good.  I didn't push the downhill at all, but with downhill on non-technical surfaces being kind of my forte, I am passing people left and right and make it down the 1,000' drop, much of it over 20% decline, in about ten minutes.  And now it's time to go back up that 1,000 elevation change.  Ugh.  I repeatedly tell myself this is the last major climb on the course and my time doesn't matter.  A lot of hiking and it ends up taking me almost 40 minutes to go up what I descended in 10 minutes!  But I'm just happy to make to the aid station (Summit #2 now) and feel much better than my first visit here.  

Inside the aid station again, one of the volunteers recognizes me and asks me how I feel.  I'm hungry again (still?) but feel SO much better this time around.  There is no sitting in chairs this time and certainly no lying on cots.  I take a brief break in the bathroom, get my pack topped off, eat more food (mostly fudge and watermelon) and head out the door.  For the first time, I have confidence that I will actually finish the 50K!

Summit #2 to Saint Hilaire (37K):  Three more sections to go, again chunked up by aid stations to break it up a bit mentally for me.  This next one will be just over 10K.  Another long steep 1,000' drop on steep ski slopes is followed by a 500' climb, but that climb is spread out over two miles and I feel pretty good about that.  Next we move away from the ski slopes and into the woods where the deer flies come out to feed on us.  There are a few sections where I feel like I am swatting constantly but then we hit sections where there aren't many at all.  We cross many very small streams where I notice and pay attention to runners ahead of me stopping and bending down at the streams.  Are they drinking from the streams?  No, they are soaking their hats in the cold water and then putting the hats back on.  I try it myself and oh, that feels so good!  Every single stream that I go through for the rest of the course I do the same.

About an hour and a quarter after leaving Summit #2, I come up on the Saint Hilaire aid station.  This one is a much smaller aid station that is trucked into a rough dirt road that we cross.  I get some more fluids and make it a point to stop and eat more, but I'm here for less than three minutes before trekking on.

Saint Hilaire to Fondeur (41.8K):   Just 5K to the next aid station!  Net downhill, but of course that doesn't mean there aren't some uphill portions.  Nothing more than 100' climbs, which I walk, but this is all very runnable now.  In fact, this section goes by rather quickly.

Fondeur to Finish:  The Fondeur aid station is a much larger one.  There are buildings here, and cars have driven up to it.  There are a lot of people spread out, and there are signs indicating where to split off for the 100K and 100M courses.  Yikes.  But the best sign of all at the aid station is the one that indicates just 9.5K to the finish!  Although I'm feeling good, I resist any temptation to just blow through this aid station and I take a good ten minutes here, including getting more fluids and plenty more food.  I'm more than 7 hours in at this point, and trying to shave a few minutes and risk not having enough energy stores seems a fool's errand to me.

So off we go.  We gradually lose over 700' and that really helps to keep me going.  There are several very short uphills that I walk, but this entire section is really very runnable, especially in contrast to some of the stuff we ran early on.  We have several river crossings in this final 10K section, and they are all a lot of fun!

No bridge!  Just trail / course signs on the opposite site
indicating where the trail picks up again.  I slid a bit on this crossing,
went in the water up to my thighs,
and then decided it might be smart to walk it!

I thought this crossing was easier, but yet this one had a
rope to get you to the other side.  (I didn't use the rope)

After the final river crossing, we only had a mile to go to the finish!  We were soon back on very familiar territory for the short section that overlapped with Mile 10 of the race and brought us to the finish.  Despite extremely fatigued legs, I was able to run fairly well for this section to and through the finishing chute (downhill finish helped!), where Jana was still waiting despite my much later than anticipated finish.

Final strides into the finishing chute

Headed for the finish

Completed the QMT 50!

Final result:  8:10:57, 92nd of 264 male finishers  Full results here  (Surprisingly 4th in my age group and all finishers ahead of me were younger than me.)

Jana helped me to get food while I took off my shoes, laid down and sunk into one of the giant beanbag chairs they had setup, and relaxed.

We were handed wine glasses after crossing the finish.
This was one of a very few events where I would have preferred
to get a medal or shirt, but it's all fine and a nice memento.

What went well:

• First and foremost, the entire race organization was simply very well executed.  From registration to website to the bib to communications before, during, and post-race, it was all very clear.
• I finished the race!  That's not to be taken lightly.
• The aid stations were fantastic and very well stocked.  I roughly estimate I had 40 pieces of watermelon, 20 pieces of fudge, 3.5 liters of water, and various other snacks (in addition to the 7 GUs and 2 Honey Stinger waffles that I brought myself).  The aid station volunteers were polite, friendly, and helpful.
• The course was certainly challenging!
• The course was scenic.  Not mind-blowingly scenic like Iceland's Laugavegur 55K, but a lot of scenic sections, including mountain views, river crossings, and an amazing waterfall.
• My VJ Spark shoe worked splendid for me.  I saw a few runners slip or slide on wet technical sections, but not me.  Despite being targeted as a shorter distance shoe, I had zero issues.
• Staying at the race host hotel, onsite at the finish line, was in retrospect a very smart idea.  (We had considered staying 45 minutes south in charming Quebec City.)  The cost wasn't outrageous, and after finishing this race, I didn't want to go out anywhere for dinner, never mind drive to another hotel to stay.
• Host hotel was very nice, adjacent to the finish, and had a lot of amenities, including breakfast and dinner options, a coffee shop that stayed opened late and also served light meals, and was very dog-friendly.

  

  Nice, modern, clean hotel:
  Delta Hotels Mont Sainte Anne Resort

  
  

  

  Looking out our bedroom balcony on the swimming
  pools below (which we used) and the finish line
  area just beyond that

  
  

  

  Apparently Brady enjoyed himself at the hotel
  as well, as this how we found him when we returned
  from dinner the first night!

  
  

What could've gone better:

• If I'm being honest with myself, I way underestimated just how difficult this race would be for me.  And that's after reading race reviews, watching videos, and reading other blog race reports.
• I didn't fuel enough.  Just like in Iceland, and similar that I should have fueled earlier in the race.
• This one is minor, but I really prefer the orange construction style flags (like we put out at WTAC trail races) instead of the pink ribbon fabric up in the trees.  I went off course only once, and it was in a very technical section at Mestachibo where I didn't see the pink ribbon up and off to the right and only got back on course because other runners yelled to me.
• I didn't bring a cup.  I knew this race would be cupless (as is a trend at some races, like it or not) as the race is extremely environment conscious, but I didn't fathom that I would need one given that I had a pack with a bladder.  I have a collapsible water cup that fits easily into my pack pockets, and it would have been helpful to come up to aid stations and get a cup of Gatorade (or whatever the equivalent drink with electrolytes they had).  So I only drank water the entire way.

A full 42 male runners (about 16%) started but did not finish (DNF), and I was NOT amongst them!  That in and of itself was an accomplishment for me.  While I'm not proud of my finishing time, I am very proud to have completed this very challenging 50K race!