The Course

On first glance, the Buckin’ Hell course appears daunting. The race kicks off at the summit of Mt. Seymour, requiring participants to ascend approximately 200 meters to Pump Peak before descending nearly 1200 meters. While there are some flatter stretches, the second half features a 1,000-meter ascent back to the summit. In other words, the latter part of the race is predominantly uphill.

Given this layout, I knew I had to be strategic with my descent. Running downhill can be tough on the body, and navigating technical downhill terrain filled with roots, rocks, and other obstacles adds another layer of challenge. Many erroneously assume downhill running is easy and often neglect proper pacing. While it’s easier on the cardiovascular system, downhill running can be far more taxing on muscles and joints than uphill running. I understood that if I mishandled this section, the second half would feel like true Buckin’ Hell.

My Pre-Race Ritual

Let’s rewind to the day before the race, which I consider the start of my journey. I rarely sleep well before major races, so it was crucial for me to get adequate rest the Thursday prior. I cleared my schedule for Friday morning and allowed myself to sleep in. Feeling rested, I focused on taking it easy to conserve energy. I completed a light 5-mile treadmill run, performed some upper body strength exercises, and engaged in a gentle 15-minute stationary bike ride. Although this might seem like a lot, it was a low-intensity routine (RPE: 4–5) that helped alleviate pre-race anxiety.

During the morning, I concentrated on consuming nutrient-dense meals with a balanced mix of protein, carbs, and fats. For breakfast, I prepared a protein pancake using oats, egg whites, vegan protein powder, cottage cheese, and frozen spinach, cooked in olive oil and topped with nut butter and low-sugar maple syrup. I also had cucumber and celery on the side. For lunch, I enjoyed two poached eggs on tomato basil rice cakes, accompanied by an avocado and stir-fried cabbage seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil. These meals are staples in my diet, so I felt confident they were safe choices before the race.

The Carb Load

While some prefer to carb-load a week prior to a race, I typically start within 24 hours and heavily load the night before. My goal is to derive around 70% or more of my daily caloric intake from carbohydrates. Our bodies can store approximately 1,600 grams of carbohydrates as glycogen, which depletes during the race and needs replenishing. This 24-hour strategy has proven effective for me, and I stick to familiar foods that have worked well in the past.

Pre-dinner snack: I usually munch on a few bowls of popcorn mixed with snacks—this year, I indulged in a large bag of parmesan garlic pita chips, which was pure food bliss.

Dinner: I enjoyed gnocchi with tomato sauce and vegan meatballs.

Dessert: Two tubs of Halo Top ice cream mixed with peanut butter granola and fudge-covered mint Oreos.

I stopped eating around 8 PM to allow for digestion and ensure I’d have a few pre-race bowel movements in the morning.

Race Morning

I typically wake up about three hours before a race to avoid feeling rushed and to allow ample time for bowel movements. If you’ve followed my journey, you know I have a significant fear of needing to use the bathroom during an event, so I prioritize getting up early to ensure everything is cleared out before the start. With a 7:00 AM race time, I rose at 3:45 AM to begin my pre-race routine. While not overly methodical, it does follow a pattern: I start brewing coffee, take a quick shower, and drink my coffee while applying KT tape to prevent chafing. I prepare breakfast (usually protein pancakes topped with nut and seed butter) and organize my gear while reading to wake up my mind.

I arrived at the start line an hour early and had to deal with an onslaught of bugs. After retrieving my race kit and drop bag, I anxiously waited in my car until about 20 minutes before the race began. I managed to squeeze in one last bathroom visit. I often meet interesting people in the bathroom line before races. This time, I encountered a fellow runner named Katrina, who shared her experiences with various ultras. Her tips were invaluable, especially since she had completed the race I was preparing for in September.

The Race

I find the atmosphere at the start of ultra races much more relaxed compared to road marathons. At marathons, there’s a palpable tension, while at Buckin’ Hell, people casually chatted as the race began. When the starting gun fired, I felt composed and ready for the challenge ahead.

The first leg involved ascending the snow-covered Pump Peak. The trails were wet and slippery, but knowing it was a short section kept me calm. After reaching the top, I witnessed racers sliding down the snowy slope. One participant lost his glasses, and as I attempted to help, I ended up slipping and sliding down myself, which drew laughter from both of us. This moment encapsulated the lighthearted spirit of these races.

While Pump Peak presented the toughest conditions, I anticipated a significant descent ahead—1,200 meters, to be precise. This section required careful strategy since the latter half of the race entailed a 1,000-meter ascent back up the mountain. Prolonged downhill running on technical terrain can be brutal on the muscles and joints. Runners who fail to pace themselves may exhaust their quads, which are crucial for the upcoming climb. My experience running on flat roads has equipped me to pace myself, but technical downhill running is an area where I still seek improvement. I focused on leaning forward, keeping my eyes on the ground to avoid tripping, while occasionally glancing up to take in the breathtaking views. This type of challenging terrain also has the benefit of distracting me from constantly checking my watch, allowing me to be present in the moment, which is quite exhilarating.

After the descent, I encountered flatter sections where I regained speed, passing several runners who had previously surged ahead. A major strength of mine in endurance sports is pacing; I listen to my body and conserve energy. I never push past a perceived exertion level of 6–7 in ultramarathons, maintaining a low intensity to avoid burnout. This strategy has consistently worked for me, allowing me to catch up to many runners later in races.

Between the 20 and 30-kilometer marks, I enjoyed a series of good miles, feeling upbeat the entire time. My legs felt strong, my energy levels remained stable, and I was adequately hydrated. I stopped checking my watch and focused on simply being present, relishing the experience. Endurance sports compel you to immerse yourself in the moment, surrender to the circumstances, and embrace the journey, whether it entails challenges or triumphs. At the halfway mark, I refueled with fruit and trail butter, which was far tastier than regular gels, and replenished my hydration pack.

The real climb commenced around the 32-kilometer mark, and from then on, it was primarily uphill, with brief flat sections in between. I adhered to my plan of power hiking uphill and jogging slowly (at an RPE of 5–6) on flatter and downhill segments. During this stretch, I experienced some headache and cramping, but after hydrating, both issues subsided within half an hour. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about the ascent; I simply focused on my breathing and maintained my pace. Upon reaching the last aid station, I inquired about the distance remaining and learned there were about 7 kilometers to go. Normally, I’d feel excited about such news, estimating I could finish in about 35 minutes. However, when climbing a mountain, 7 kilometers can take several hours. At some point, you lose track of time. As Katrina mentioned, “at some point, you just go numb.” The key is to keep moving forward, one step at a time. My experience at Squamish taught me that counting down the distance can make the journey feel painfully slow.

Eventually, I reached the summit of Seymour, only to face one final climb before coasting down to the finish line. I stopped eating solid food after the last aid station, opting instead to replenish my hydration pack with electrolytes and consume my calories through liquids. Upon crossing the finish line, I felt exhausted yet surprisingly okay. My final time was 8 hours, 3 minutes, and 56 seconds, earning me 4th place among the women.

After returning home, I showered and indulged in three bowls of snacks (popcorn mixed with garlic parmesan pita chips), four large tacos from Tacofino, a bowl of ice cream with peanut butter granola, and two bowls of cereal, all while lounging in bed.

Overall, Buckin’ Hell was an excellent race. I felt good about my performance and, most importantly, how I managed my experience throughout the race. My next big challenge is in September, as I prepare for the WAM100k. Thus, Buckin’ Hell served as a warm-up for me. I’m currently working with two ultra-coaches to prepare. If you’re interested in following my WAM training journey, feel free to check out my profile on Strava.

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