Seaton Scramble Ultra Running 50K Race Report: Training, Race Day Lessons, and Grit
- Coach Robert (CupcakeDestroyer)
- May 14
- 10 min read
How the Ultra Running Seaton Scramble 50K Found Its Way Onto the Calendar?
Like many races we have done over the years, the Ultra Running Seaton Scramble 50K was not originally part of the plan.
Our race season planning usually starts somewhere around November or December. That is when we begin mapping out what the next year might look like. Sometimes the schedule is clear and we know exactly which races we want to target. Other times, it is more of a lukewarm collection of ideas, possibilities, and “maybe we should do that” conversations.
Either way, we start putting races into the calendar and building our training around them.
This season was no different.
We had an adventure race we wanted to try, a few potential triathlons we were considering as lead-up events, and of course, our main A race for the year: Ironman Ottawa. Once the rough plan was in place, we started training in January alongside our RSR Get Moving Challenge.
The Get Moving Challenge is our year-long commitment to posting a Strava activity every single day. Not every day is a hard training day, and that is the point. Some days are structured workouts. Some days are walks. Some days are stretching, mobility, or active recovery. The goal is simple: keep moving, stay consistent, and build the habit.
So how did the Seaton Scramble end up on the calendar?
Coach Rachel was asked if she would be interested in doing the 15K. Naturally, that idea made its way to me. We talked about the race, checked out the website, looked at the distances, and then, in true Rapid Snail Racing fashion, made the completely reasonable decision that if the race offered a 50K, then obviously that was the distance we needed to do.
Because apparently that is how our brains work.
With only six weeks to adjust our training plans, we committed.
The Seaton Scramble 50K was officially on the calendar. Speed optional. Poor decision-making questionable. Fitness mandatory.
How Did We Train for a Ultra Running 50K?
The short answer?
We did what we always do.
We trained.
Adding the Ultra Running Seaton Scramble 50K into the calendar was not simple, but it was also not impossible. We were already deep into training for Ironman Ottawa, which is our A race for the season, so the challenge became figuring out how to prepare for a 50K trail race without completely derailing the bigger plan.
Thankfully, we were not starting from zero.
By the time Seaton Scramble entered the picture, we had already built a strong running base through our triathlon training. Our weekly long runs were already sitting around 28K and gradually increasing. On top of that, our overall endurance engine was in a good place. We were already doing long indoor rides of up to four hours, followed by 10K brick runs.
So while a 50K trail race was definitely a big ask, we were not exactly coming off the couch.
The reality was that getting to 50K or longer in training was not going to happen. We only had six weeks to adjust the plan, and one of those weeks needed to be a recovery week, while another would be a small taper leading into race day. That left us with a very short window to build smart, not reckless.
The goal became simple: if we could get to a 38K trail run in training, we felt confident we could handle race day.
We are no strangers to hard efforts, and we are very accustomed to hard work. So over the next few weeks, we adjusted the plan and got to work. We built quickly from our 28K base up to 38K on the trails, then brought the volume back down to 32K before rolling into race week.
Was it perfect?
No.
Was it ideal?
Also no.
But was it enough?
We believed it was.
The focus was not on proving we could run 50K in training. The focus was on building enough durability, confidence, and trail-specific strength to get to the start line ready to problem-solve, keep moving, and manage the day as it came.
Because that is the thing about endurance racing. You rarely need a perfect build.
You need a smart build, a strong base, and the willingness to keep going when things get uncomfortable.
And we had all three.
The Race: Part One — Before the Race
Race day is always race day.
And once again, we did what we always do.
We planned.
Taper week, nutrition, hydration, carb-loading days, race morning fueling, race morning timing, clothing, race fuel, drop bag items, backup gear — all of it needed to be thought through before we ever stepped onto the start line.
There is a saying that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. In endurance racing, that enemy can be anything: weather, terrain, stomach issues, nerves, gear problems, poor sleep, or a hill that seems personally offended by your existence.
But having a plan still matters.
A good plan may not survive exactly as written, but it gives you something to work from. It helps you navigate the knowns, adjust to the unknowns, and stay calm when race day starts doing race day things.
And this race was no different.
Our morning started the way many of our race mornings do: two packets of peaches and cream oatmeal, a banana, and coffee. Nothing fancy. Nothing new. Just familiar fuel that we knew worked. After that, we kept sipping some light hydration as we got closer to race start.
Then, as always, race day belly arrived.
For Coach Rachel, race day belly was in full effect.
We have done several triathlons and endurance events, but we definitely underestimated the planning required for an ultra. Rookie mistake. A very rookie mistake. We had planned our nutrition for the day, but we had not actually prepared it the night before.
That meant race morning suddenly included sorting fuel, organizing gear, checking drop bag items, and trying to make sure we had everything we needed for a 50K trail race.
Not ideal.
This left us both feeling rushed, and when you feel rushed, anxiety starts creeping in. Even when you know better. Even when you coach this stuff. Even when you tell athletes all the time to prepare the night before.
Apparently, we needed our own coaching reminder.
But we survived the chaos, packed what we needed, and started making our way to the venue.
Luckily, the race start was only about 1.5 km away. Technically, we could have walked. But the thought of walking back after running 50K was not even remotely appealing, so we made the very sensible decision to drive.
We hopped in the car, turned on our Get Pumped mix, and let the short drive do its thing.
We arrived around 7:30 a.m., got ourselves settled, and hung out until the 7:45 a.m. race briefing. Before we knew it, we were standing on the start line, tucked safely at the back of the pack where all good snails belong.
The countdown started.
The nerves were there.
The plan was there.
The rookie mistakes were already noted.
And then, just like that, the Seaton Scramble 50K was underway.
The Race: Part Two — The 50K
As soon as the race started, it felt like everyone took off like rockets.
We had a plan.
And instantly, upon first contact, it was no longer exactly the plan.
Our goal was not to “race” the Seaton Scramble 50K. The goal was completion, ideally under seven hours. That was the target. That was the sensible plan. That was the adult decision.
Then race day happened.
The pace around us was quicker than expected, and after settling in, we decided to adjust slightly. We felt good, we felt fit, and we felt like we had the endurance to move a little faster than originally planned. Looking back, I think we made the right call.
Before we knew it, we were already at 5K and feeling as good as you can feel in the early stages of an ultra. Then came the turnaround for the loop around 8K. Spirits were high, legs were fresh, and our minds were still being useful to us — which, in endurance racing, is always a nice temporary feature.
We always knew the first loop would feel good. That was expected. But getting to the end of the first loop at 16K still felt like a big win.
At the loop area, we saw a few of Rachel’s co-workers, had a full media shoot and by media shoot, I mean we took one picture, did a quick shirt change as the temperature started to warm up, and then we were back underway.
Around 17K, on a slight incline heading back toward the trail, I made the comment:
“We will definitely be walking this on loop three.”
Coach Rachel replied:
“We shall see.”
Classic.
Loop two went very well, and by the 25K mark, we were still in good spirits. Our plan was holding strong: walk the hills on the trail, run the flats, and run the downhills when it made sense. It was simple, repeatable, and exactly what we needed.
At this point, we need to make a very loud shout-out to the two aid stations on course: the Trailhead Aid Station and the Foreststream Aid Station at the turnaround.
Their energy was incredible.
Their motivation was above and beyond.
Their enthusiasm gave runners a lift every single time we came through. Aid stations can make a huge difference during an ultra, and these volunteers absolutely delivered.
By the time we finished the second loop, we felt like people who had just run 32K, which, oddly enough, is exactly what had happened. But overall, we were holding up well. We took a little time to reload gels, top up hydration, reset ourselves, and then headed back out for the final full loop.
And for the record, Coach Rachel was half right.
But so was I.
We did not walk the entire hill I had called out earlier.
We only walked the last half of it.
So technically, everyone wins.
By the time we hit the trailhead around 36K, the legs were starting to get heavy. Our longest training run had been 38K, and we were definitely approaching that familiar feeling from training.
Tired.
Very tired.
This is endurance racing, though. One minute, you are on top of the world. The next minute, just a few seconds later, you are digging a hole you are not sure you can climb out of.
That is when the mantra started showing up more often:
We can do hard things.
And we said it out loud. A lot.
Around the 38K mark, on a small hill descent, I stepped wrong and my hip flexor angrily announced itself with something along the lines of:
“What the F*%# was that?”
I knew immediately that the final stretch was going to be a sufferfest for my right leg.
And it was.
At the same time, Coach Rachel’s shoes started feeling about two sizes too small. We would later find out she had started developing a blister under her big toenail.
Ouch.
That hurts just typing it.
We finally made the last turnaround and started heading home. There was a lot more walking by this point, but we kept moving. Eventually, we made it back to the road section, where the course was marked with orange flags.
At that point, I decided for both of us that our new strategy would be simple:
Run one flag.
Walk the next flag.
Repeat until done.
It was not glamorous. It was not fast. It was not pretty.
But it worked.
At the end of the third loop, we still had to head back out for a short out-and-back section to make up the full 50K distance.
I cannot properly describe the mental cruelty of being so close to the finish, only to have to go back out for “just a little bit more.”
Uhhggg.
That section was a special kind of sufferfest.
But in the end, we did it.
My right leg had seen better days. Rachel’s blister felt like it was the size of a watermelon. Our bodies were tired, our brains were cooked, and our feet were very much questioning our leadership decisions.
But we crossed the finish line.
Our first 50K ultra was done.
Speed optional. Suffering mandatory.
Finish line earned.
The Race: Part Three — After the Finish Line
After a race, especially when it gets hard — and I mean really hard — emotional control can become difficult.
That was the case for Coach Rachel at the finish line.
There were a few tears. Not specifically from pain. Not specifically from joy. Not specifically from fatigue. It was more like every emotion showed up at the same time and demanded to be felt all at once.
And honestly, that moment hit me too.
Watching that emotion come out at the finish immediately brought me back to my Patagonman finish. Some races take more than energy from you. They take focus, patience, problem-solving, grit, and a whole lot of emotional strength. When you finally stop moving, sometimes everything catches up at once.
So we stood there for a moment.
We drank some water.
We collected ourselves.
Then we turned our attention to the very glamorous post-ultra task of packing up our drop bag.
And yes, it definitely needed packing.
It looked like a kit bomb had exploded inside my backpack. Gear was everywhere. Gels, clothes, bottles, wrappers, and who knows what else had somehow spread across the drop bag area like a small endurance-racing yard sale.
Eventually, we got ourselves organized, loaded up, and made our way home.
That evening, we celebrated properly with chicken tenders, pizza, ice cream, and chips. After burning over 3,000 calories, there is something deeply satisfying about eating your favourite treats completely guilt-free.
The compression boots went on.
The feet went up.
We watched some ultramarathon and triathlon videos.
And Coach Rachel very wisely refused to listen to me talk about plans for the next race season.
Which, to be fair, was probably reasonable.
We had just finished our first 50K ultra. We were still in the early part of this race season. We still had major events ahead of us. So what exactly was I thinking?
Classic endurance athlete brain.
Over the next few days, we eased ourselves back into movement and started returning to training as normal. Before the week was over, we were already shifting focus back to Ironman Ottawa training.
Because the season is far from done.
We still have a few big races ahead, with the most notable being Ironman 70.3 Muskoka and Ironman Ottawa. So keep checking back — there may be a few more race reports coming as the season continues.
For now, the Seaton Scramble 50K is officially in the books.
Our first ultra.
Our first 50K.
A lot of lessons learned.
A lot of snacks earned.
And one very big reminder:
We can do hard things.
Speed optional. Suffering temporary. Snacks mandatory.
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