From 10K Torture to RibFest Redemption
Some people sign up for a 10K run around a Lake because they love fitness, pushing their limits, and chasing that “runner’s high.” Carly and Michaelia? Let’s just say we were chasing survival.
The Not-So-Easy 10K
The Tall Tree 10K sounded innocent enough on paper: “flat, scenic, a beautiful loop around the lake.” What they forgot to mention was the slow, painful process of nearly dying while pretending to be athletic in front of strangers.
By kilometre 3, our lungs were begging for mercy. By kilometre 5, our legs were filing for divorce. By kilometre 8, Carly (ever the free spirit) started chanting things like, “We are one with the earth, the trees are our oxygen, feel the energy of the moss!” Meanwhile, Michaelia was silently planning her obituary.
And then came kilometre 9, the point where you think, We’re almost there, we’ve got this! Instead, lurking in the shadows like a villain in a bad action movie, was a GIANT hill. Who puts a hill at the 9K mark? Pure evil. Absolute chaos. We trudged up it like two warriors on their last breath, powered only by the faint promise of snacks waiting at the finish line.
Somehow, we crossed that line, sweaty, gasping, and wondering why anyone voluntarily signs up for this kind of thing. But all was forgiven when we were greeted with cookies, chocolate milk, fruit, and other goodies. Nothing has ever tasted so good, or felt so deserved.
The run was hosted by Tall Tree Health, a local powerhouse in integrated wellness. They bring together physiotherapy, chiropractic care, massage therapy, occupational therapy, counselling, and more, all with a focus on helping people move, heal, and thrive. So, in a way, they made us suffer for 10 kilometres and are also the ones who could fix our sore legs afterward. That’s what we call full-service health care.
All that sweat and struggle wasn’t just for personal glory (or humiliation). Proceeds from the event went to Redd Fish Restoration Society, a non-profit working to protect and restore wild salmon ecosystems on Vancouver Island and beyond. They blend science, education, and hands-on restoration projects to keep streams and watersheds healthy, not just for fish, but for the people, wildlife, and communities that depend on them. Basically, while we were gasping for breath, we were also doing something good for salmon. Win-win.
Enter: RibFest Salvation
After conquering the 10K (and that ridiculous 9K hill), we had burned approximately one million calories (give or take). Naturally, the only way to replenish that kind of energy loss was to head straight to the Esquimalt RibFest with Jenn, Asheleigh, and our families.
RibFest is basically the opposite of a 10K: no sweating, no gasping for air, no evil hills, just endless BBQ, smoky air that smells like happiness, and live music to keep you moving even when you can’t feel your legs. We lined up for ribs like people queueing for concert tickets, clutching corn on the cob and mac-and-cheese like they were trophies.
Jenn and Asheleigh took rib tasting very seriously, debating sweet vs. spicy vs. tangy sauces like it was an Olympic sport. The kids zoomed around with sticky fingers, clearly unbothered by the fact that their mothers had almost died earlier that morning. Carly, in full hippy glory, declared her plate of ribs and coleslaw a “sacred energy exchange between human and smoke spirit.” Michaelia, on the other hand, just focused on getting as much cornbread into her mouth as possible before anyone tried to steal it.
And the best part? RibFest isn’t just about the food, it’s about community. Free entry, live bands, a bustling beer garden, and money raised for local charities. So technically, while we were eating our body weight in brisket, we were also giving back. Balance achieved.
So, was the day about running? Sure. Was it also about face-planting into pulled pork and coleslaw afterward? Absolutely. The way we see it, the Tall Tree 10K and RibFest are two sides of the same coin: push your body to the brink, then feed it until you can’t move. That’s balance.
And hey, Carly insists the smoky air from the RibFest pit masters aligned our chakras and cleansed our auras, so technically the whole day was healing.
By the end of the day, we were full, not just of ribs and cornbread, but of laughter, stories, and the kind of camaraderie that only comes from surviving something together. Sure, our legs were sore, our lungs still recovering, and our chakras maybe a little over-energized thanks to Carly’s “smoke spirit” blessing, but we felt alive. There’s something magical about pushing yourself to the brink, then collapsing into a pile of BBQ with friends and family cheering you on. The lesson? Life is a lot like a 10K: it can be painful, it can be ridiculous, it can even throw an evil hill at you when you least expect it, but the right people, a little humour, and a mountain of ribs can make it all worth it.