The thing about the Trapline races is that the participant is instantly aware that they are, for Happy Valley Goose Bay, a big deal. Unlike larger events in much larger places, these races have the focus of the community, and just about everyone you meet is not only aware of the event, but likely involved. I arrived not long before the race-kit pick up commenced, and even in my quick trips to the car rental agency, grocery store, etc., the races became a part of the conversations. Locals had kept and eye on the website and were eagerly anticipating the activity to come.

The kit-pick up was busy and upbeat – everyone had and energy built from all the preparations. The kit itself had some pleasant surprises – a high quality shirt and great hat, plus a gel and other goodies. This is where the hospitality really begins, and it certainly had a family-reunion feel to it – something to be aware and protective of. The pasta supper is a must-do, and really should be added automatically to the registration cost – an amazing spread and perfect introduction to the personalities and other connected aspects. Kudos to Mr. Goudie for his warm welcome and insightful anecdotes.

Race day came quick and cool, and the bus ride was full of nervous chatter. Unfortunately, my Garmin watch had accidently been turned on in transit from home, and had completely discharged its battery. Jamie found Cathy Jong, who was entered in the 10k race, who generously gave hers up so I could monitor my pace in the marathon. Such is the spirit of the Trapline code – thanks again Cathy. The size of the group does make for a close-knit kind of vibe, and this continued at the warm and comfortable start-line venue. A volunteer even opened the craft store adjoining our waiting room so I could have access to a mirror to insert my contacts before the race. The photo session and Trapper-greetings is an appropriate and special way to lead into the race – it lends a ceremonial element that heightens further the status of what the participants are involved in. Starting the race with the rifle is special too – another touch that separates this event from others.

The run itself was particularly enjoyable – such a perfect time of year, with the fall leaves and open vistas – truly exhilarating. Pierre Rousseau and I quickly decided on the pace we were trying to maintain, and agreed on taking turns leading into the wind. This worked well, and we enjoyed considerable conversation about past events and accomplishments, and the partnership really helped to keep our progress steady. The two exceptions were when I had to relieve myself – somewhere around 15k – and an adrenaline-powered acceleration inspired by the crowd of half-marathon participants cheering at 21k. Not only did the bathroom break take longer than anticipated, but I felt motivated to catch up too quickly, perhaps, and that seemed to take a toll on my legs. Never did I imagine my pit-stop would become a part of the play-by-play commentary of the race. I later learned that marathon-update announcements had been made at both of the other starting lines that included "Soucy stopped for a pee, then caught up again." I wasn't even aware that I had been spied, unless it was the driver of the lead police car filing a drop by drop account over his radio.

My ill-advised sprint at the half way point further compromised my finishing time, as was soon to become painfully obvious. Around 32 k, just after passing the 10k start point, I felt the backs of my legs quickly begin to tighten. It was too late to do much about it at that stage – I had burned my candle early. From that juncture on, the lactic acid in my hamstrings and calves steadily built, and I was powerless to stem the exponential slowing of my pace. From 4:15 per kilometer, to 4:30, 4:45… I stopped looking at my (Cathy's) Garmin when it hit 5:15/k. Then, arriving at the 37k mark, I was devastated to see a "7K to go" sign. I protested to the bearer "That's wrong! There's only 5K left." He seemed to disagree – that's what he was told there remained. This was still confusing me as I headed on to the final stretch. Then a woman with a marshals vest informed me "The guy in front is 5 minutes ahead of you!" Delightful. "Well.", I thought. "That should get me going – time to ramp it up…" Of course, I was spent, and all I could manage was to plod on and ignore the minor spasms that began to spark up and down my legs. I walked and attempted to stretch out the affected muscles a couple of time, but it proved so hard to start running again, I decided that was a mistake. Another odd thing, that I'd never experienced before, was an electric pulsing that vibrated in my arms whenever I relaxed them to my sides. Once, I even had some flickering of my vision – decided not to rest my arms anymore either.

Finally, I arrived –pre-announced - at the well-populated finish-line to receive my medal from Mina Hubbard and a welcome handshake from champion Pierre. He had maintained the pace we had set early, and had arrived over 7 minutes ahead of me. We shared an interview with Mike Johannsen (sp?)of NTV, in which Pierre was more than generous. He remarked that, in spite of my meeting Mr. Wall in the last quarter of the race, I still managed a personal best time of 3:09:17. That's what I came for.

It was a terrific day all around. The post-race reception was even bigger than the previous year, and every bit as varied and delicious. The caribou soup and fish and brewis were fantastic – the whole experience remarkable. I'd like to finish by saying that the reason I returned to run the full Trapline Marathon this year was the sincere effort and enthusiasm I met in 2008. There is genuine interest in providing not only a solid, professionally directed running event, but in sharing the pride, culture and spirit of the region. This is what sets Trapline apart, and what will no doubt bring hundreds of participants from far and wide for years to come. It is, relative to other race-weekends small in scale - but large in value. And so, as one is aware as soon as one arrives, there is nothing minor about it… It is exactly how it makes you feel … a big deal.

Pete Soucy

Pete Soucy is better know as 'Snook' to most people in this Province, but for the past five years, he's been an avid runner too. He won the Trapline Half-marathon in 2008 and plans to return for the full Marathon this year.

Pete is also an avid event organizer. Below is a piece Pete wrote recently about creating the Scotiabank Cape to Cabot 20k, an annual race hosted by the Athletics NorthEAST Running Club, of which he is a member:

I caught the running bug a few years back. Feeling muddy of mind, creaky of joint, and short on energy, I decided to hit the road on a regular basis. It wasn't easy. I hadn't exercised much for years, and smoking had taken a toll on the lungs. But I found that each time out got a little easier and a lot more enjoyable. Eventually I entered a few 'fun-runs', and then a short race or two - eventually I was hooked. I looked forward to every run, every trail and workout, and really enjoyed the whole social aspect of the sport. My routes and races got longer, until I finally took on a marathon. After finally kicking the butt, I even qualified for, and ran, the Boston Marathon in 2005. I did it again in 2008 – 46 minutes faster. Running has become as regular an element of my week as watching the news.

In the spring of 2006, during a long run, I had an idea that seemed so obvious I assumed it had been proposed before: an annual race from the most easterly point in North America, Cape Spear, to arguably our most famous landmark, Cabot Tower. I clocked it out at very near 20 kilometres, noted the difficulty due to the hills (especially that last one up Signal Hill) and with a smile thought, "Runners love a challenge - this could be a winner!" Where else can you find such a visually impressive, and historically significant, start and finish? Where else can you see the finish location from the starting line (on a clear day) without the course being a loop? The whole thing just seemed right, and I knew my enthusiasm would be common within the running community.

The first step was to hold a trial run. My Club, Athletics NorthEAST, sent out some emails announcing the route we were going to run, and at sunrise on a glorious, sunny, and calm November 2, 2006, some 63 runners answered the call. After a few pictures to mark the occasion, all hands left Cape Spear determined to reach Cabot Tower intact. It was a daunting proposal: run 20 tough kilometres over several tortuously long and agonizingly steep rises, and then face the extreme climb up Signal Hill, when muscles are spent and wills have been tested. But what a success. All 63 of us arrived and touched the Tower to be among the select who can claim to have initiated what I feel is destined to become one of the most popular and anticipated annual sporting events in this Province.

The Cape to Cabot is now an official race of the NLAA's Championship. It's 400-maximum registration sells out quickly each year, and it is broadcast as a half-hour special on NTV. Having served as Race Director for the 1st and 2nd years, I'll finally get to run it myself this year, although I won't expect much in the way of a fast time as it is scheduled for October 18 – one week after I will have run the Trapline Marathon in Labrador. That's the race I will focus on this year – it's a gem of an event that I can barely wait to be part of.

Pete Soucy