Bre Mirynech.

“Big fat DNF for me!” This was the first thing I messaged to my partner Mack after not talking all day while I was out on the race course at Death Race. There was a time not long ago, just two years ago actually, when I called him from the aid station at Zion 100 km in absolute tears because I was going to have to drop and get my first DNF. This time, that message didn’t have tears. If anything, it was said with a little chuckle. There’s a lot I’ve learned in the past two years and four ultra’s since then, and one of those learnings is that truly anything can happen on race day. You can prepare your best, train your best, and give it your best, and sometimes still a DNF happens. It doesn’t say anything about you or your ability. What does it say? That you trained hard, worked hard, and showed up wholeheartedly to the big scary goal, not knowing what lies ahead! We don’t know what will happen after we leave the start line on these giant days, but you decided to give it a go, you challenged yourself, you took a chance and bet on yourself, and you’re open to putting yourself out there and finding out what the day holds.

I will start this story rewinding to the end of 2023. After dealing with on and off injuries in the latter half of 2023, I took some much needed time off towards the end of the year. I had some issues going on in my hip and glute and after getting an MRI to get a better idea of what was going on for so long, I was feeling a little confused and unsure about what the next year was going to hold for me. I had been, and was continuing to see my physio Bri consistently. We talked over a lot of it together, and eventually I asked her “do you think I’ll be able to sign up for a race this year, or should I just give myself a year off?”. I was fully prepared to do whatever I needed to do to get my body to feel strong and healthy again, even if that meant extended time off. Bri said “I feel confident you can sign up for something” and that was the green light and the glimmer of hope that I needed.

It wasn’t long after that conversation with Bri that I reached out to my (now) running coaching Liz. Liz and I have been friends for 5 years now and ever since she started coaching I thought that one day I would love the opportunity to get to train with her. With big goals ahead, coming out of a tough time with my hip/glute, and a feeling of needing a different approach, I decided it was time to shake things up and I connected with Liz about the possibility of training under her for the year ahead. She (lucky for me) seemed eager to work together, and we made a plan to start together a few months later in mid March.

Over January to March, I made myself a plan to really build back slowly. I wanted to have a strong year ahead and I wanted to be kind to my body, and I knew that in order to do this I had to take things slowly.  I spent a lot of time building a strong base in the gym training under Kyle’s strength programming, working on those areas of weaknesses and getting this body ready to take on a big goal again. I saw my Naturopath and got my low ferritin addressed before getting into another training block. For running mileage, I slowly increased and built myself back to a point where I was ready to start training with Liz. In January I wasn’t totally confident I’d get to that point, but it was mid March before I knew it and I was feeling good- a win!

I can’t rave enough about the training block I had with Liz. Over the past four years of training for ultras, it was the best training block I’ve ever had. The workouts were fun, Liz kept building my mileage intentionally, I had new challenges (like a 7km uphill time trial, and actually doing my speedwork), I explored new trails as part of training, added more vert than in the past, and we even did some speed workouts on the bike in the beginning to simulate climbing while still being nice to my hip. Needless to say, it all paid off. 19 weeks absolutely flew by, and I arrived at the start line of Death Race feeling the healthiest (physically and mentally), strongest, and best I have ever felt when it comes to my running and ability. Combined with having the best crew out there, my friends Rachel, Faye, and Nichole, I was eager and excited to tackle the 120km challenge that awaited me the next morning.

It is not lost on me that I have a truly incredible support system that, in all ways, made sure I was able to get to this start line, and stronger than ever. You know you are, and from the bottom of my heart- thank you!

The day started off surprisingly calm. I had a good sleep, ate a big breakfast- a new record of 3 packs of oats haha, and for the first time ever I didn’t feel nervous about what was to come. I felt calm, ready, and knew I was in for a fun day. The girls and I drove to the start line and before I knew it I was off and running on the first leg. It was all runnable, I ran into my friend Marika’s friend Maddie and we shared some miles and chats, and after 1.5 hours I was at the first aid station already. I hit my predicted time (maybe a bit ahead) and was feeling good. It was humid out, but luckily living on the coast now it was nothing new. The girls stocked up my snacks, filled my bottles, gave me my poles and I was back out onto leg 2. 

Leg 2 is a big leg, about 30 km and 1600m of climbing. The climbing didn’t start right away, so I was able to run for a bit and when I did hit the first bit of climbing, I played Liz’s game of “run 20 steps”. When you commit to running them- you better hang on and run all 20! I did this off and on for a while until the trail wasn’t really runnable anymore. The terrain on leg 2 is varied. From muddy, rooty, single track climbs to dusty, slippery, basically butt sliding descents, to wildflower fields and mountain views, it really had it all. I don’t remember when, but at some point on leg 2 my stomach started to feel a little off. When this happened, I assured myself “it’s fine, we’ve been here before, you’ll be ok.” I started matching pace with two ladies who were running the Near Death Marathon on the final climb of the leg, and chatting to them for a bit helped take my mind off my stomach. After a while though I started moving faster than them so I kept going on ahead and made my way towards the well known powerline descent on leg 2. It was a memorable descent that’s for sure! Long, steep, dusty, slippery, and hot, and my stomach was not happy with the jostling of the downhill movement. At the end of the descent, some kind people had dropped boxes of water bottles and they were incredibly needed and every runner was very grateful to see them, as it had been a hot and long stretch without a water refill. From here, it was just a few more kms to the aid station along the highway and then the road.

I met my crew at the end of leg 2, and they treated me to a slushy, ice bandana, ice in my hat, and some plain naan bread (at my request- a go to for me when my stomach turns). I took the time I needed to get nice and cool and see what I could do to settle my stomach. They didn’t let me stay too long though, and fairly soon I was running down the road with them cheering me out onto leg 3.

Once I was out of town and onto the dirt roads, it didn’t take long before my stomach needed the first of a few (shitty) emergency stops. It was not feeling great, and what was meant to be the easier of the legs started off feeling pretty rough and hard. I kept moving, and eventually came to a section where there was a lot of fresh bear scat. Having had a recent spooky encounter with bears this summer, I was on high alert for potentially encountering one in this stretch. Luckily another girl came up behind me and we ran together for a while which made me feel a little better about the bears, and also helped take my mind off my stomach troubles. Eventually however she continued on ahead, as I kept needing to stop for my stomach. Eventually I got into a groove (if you can even call it that) of jogging, stopping to go to the bathroom, walking, feeling frustrated, then jogging again. Somewhere out there, andd after a couple pukes added into that groove, my stomach resolved itself and I thought maybe this low was finally on the up. I didn’t have long to entertain the optimism however, as the run/race gods decided to throw me another surprise very quickly.

I will start this by saying the following might be TMI for some, but it was my reality so here we go! At some point after my stomach had settled and I was jogging again, I had the sudden urge to pee. I thought that was weird since I had made so many bathroom stops already due to my cranky stomach, but I stepped off to the side of the trail, peed, pulled up my shorts, got back on the trail and started to run again. Immediately as I started to run, I had to pee again. I knew I didn’t actually need to pee, but the urge was so strong I stepped back off the trail and tried to go again. Clearly not much came out. Little did I know, this would be my life for the rest of the day. Everytime I started to run, I had a wildly intense urge to pee. The only way I can explain it would be if you’ve ever had a UTI or bladder infection, but times that by like 10. It eventually felt like my bladder was going to explode. The cherry on top? Every time I did manage to pee, even if it was just a few drips, it burned like hell as I was so chafed down in that area from running and stopping for my stomach issues so many times. I would waddle for a bit after peeing until the burning feelinng calmed down, then I’d start my jog, get hit with that intense urge to pee, and repeat. It was rough. I also knew I should be able to run this entire section as this leg was so runnable, which added to my frustration. I was moving so slowly, in pain, and eventually started peeing my pants because the urges were so intense (but really read *drip*, because my frequency was so high it was just drips coming out each time), and I’ll admit also because I just couldn’t be bothered stopping every 30 seconds.

It was during this time that a DNF started to enter my brain. I didn’t want to quit, but I also didn’t have any desire to continue on like this for 50+ more kilometers. I was also getting worried what this all meant, if it was a more serious issue, and how much worse it could get. I started trying to problem solve what could be going on. Did I somehow give myself an instant and major UTI because I went to the bathroom so many times at the start of the leg? I couldn’t figure it out. Eventually I got to the last aid station before seeing my crew, had a sit down, took a deep breath, shed a few teaers, and then continued on my way for the last few km. At this point I was basically walking entirely and this section was alongside the highway in the ditch. There I was just walking along, constantly peeing/dripping in my pants, everything down there burning, tears in my eyes- honestly it’s quite a funny thing to think about now- what a scene haha. In that moment though, I was without a doubt the lowest I’ve ever felt in a race and my mind was fairly made up that I would drop once I got to my crew.

After what felt like forever, I started to see the cars and crew of the aid station and heard Faye on the side cheering me in. I half smile and went over to her and I can’t remember if I said I was going to cry or just started crying, but she put her arm around me and walked me over to the girls and my stuff. I explained to them what was going on, told them I thought my race was done, and they did what any good crew would do- tried to get me to keep going of course. Marika was there too and even tried to cheer me up with some sparkle glitter. She nearly had me there, but I was feeling super rough. They told me to take a break, have some food, and think about it before making a final decision. I had some time on my side, so I did exactly that. They also encouraged me to talk to the medics, which I did. They asked me a lot of great questions (like what colour my pee was), suggested some ways to deal with all the chafing, didn’t make me feel bad when I peed my pants in front of them, and made sure something more serious wasn’t going on. After talking to the medics, making 100 trips to the outhouse, giving my chafe some relief, and peeing on Rachel’s camp chair (sorry Rachel), I finally decided it was time to turn in my timing chip. My time on this race course was done. 

That entire time in the aid station is a blur now if I’m being honest. I remember tearing up, laughing, struggling to walk to the bathroom cause my bladder pressure was so intense, Akela eating my naan bread out of my hand, Nichole making me laugh about being able to go for drinks later, tearing up because I thought I was being soft and letting my crew down- you name it, I felt it. It was so full of emotions, as DNF’s are. However, despite all of it, when I turned in my chip I felt oddly at peace with my decision and managed to put a smile on my face. Growth as an ultra runner? Maybe.

The rest of the evening went as you might expect- some calls to friends to let them know what happened, some laughing, some A&W, a lot more peeing, a very very painful shower, a hilarious google search history trying to figure out what happened and caused it, and eventually we made it back to tent city where we were staying. To wrap up the day, the northern lights came out in the night sky. I felt like the universe was giving me a sign of some sort. Of what, I’m not sure, but I felt happy at that moment.

DNF’s are such a funny thing. We can be so hard on ourselves because of them. Maybe we feel like we failed, weren’t strong enough, or aren’t cut out for these things. Sometimes, and I will speak for myself here, we feel like by not finishing the race we are letting down our crew because they came all this way to help us out. It feels like we wasted their time. Obviously, none of the above is true. First off, just toeing the start lines of these crazy goals shows strength. Making it as far as you did means you’re cut out for these things. Also the people around you? They love you and support you- finish line celebration or DNF upset. I remember Courtney Dauwalter once saying something along the lines of, if you ever have the chance to go after the big scary thing, do it. She’s right. No matter the goal, no matter if you’ve DNFd before, always bet on yourself and go after the big thing. I can tell you with certainty that I will continue to do that. Death Race might not have been in the cards for me this year, but I can’t wait to see what big scary thing is next!