Grindstone 100. Toughest Race Yet.

Packet pickup. Credit: Marc Griffin (I think)

So, there I was.

Maybe 20 miles into Grindstone 100 and thinking two things:  1.  “How the hell am I going to get this done within my time goal if the trails stay like this?  Or at all?  And 2.  “Andy Jones-Wilkins, why did you suggest this mother-fu***** race to me?”  Oh, that’s right, I wanted a Hardrock 100 qualifier.   I was looking to run outside of Colorado where I could potentially perform a little better than my norm.  Whatever that means.  And then I started thinking about my current situation:  Rocks.  Small rocks.  Big rocks.  Rocks that move.  Rocks that trip me.  Rocks that are hidden by falling leaves.  Rocks that no human being should be able move over quickly.  Rocks that prevent me from actually making downhill progress at a “normal” pace.  Rocks that remind me of how much I suck on technical terrain.  Rocks that grab ahold of my poles and sling me backwards by my wrists.  Rocks made even more difficult by the fact that this race starts at 6:00 pm, it’s dark, and I am navigating in the narrow space provided by my headlamp.  Rocks that I want to punch in their stupid faces if they had one, and where I wouldn’t also hurt my hand adding to the aches and pains that were already adding up about 1/5 into a 100+ mile race!

Nightmare Technical.  Credit:  Michelle Rice

If one more person tells me “welcome to the beast coast” I am going to puke.  Augh!  And then I laughed at myself.  I signed up for a race named GrindSTONE.  Duh.  Stones and rocks were inevitable.  Hardship and maybe even a little despair are inevitable.  I LOVE this stuff.  This is why I am here.  My mindset needs to change NOW.  Time to embrace that I am outside my comfort zone and I must deal with it.  I recalled a conversation I had with the very talented Jackson Brill after Devil on the Divide a month ago (he won by the way with a new CR):  It was about how technical running is a skill, and I just do not have the terrain to perfect it by me.  Wisdom from a young guy I respect (watch out by the way, he’s going to be one of the GREATS).  It was just the reminder I needed to relax and accept.  I was just about a mile and a half from the first aid station where my family was waiting for me with all the sustainment I needed to press on.  Up until this “downhill” into Dowell’s Draft, I was moving really well.  I had lungs for days due to the low elevation, my nutrition seemed spot on, and I was VERY lucky to be missing out on the normally wet, hot, and humid conditions that this course sees.  I pushed the negative thoughts of how badly I could be performing otherwise away.

I came to the flatter, rolling intersection hopefully leading towards lights, music, and amazing volunteers.  I found the pink flagging, starting moving forward, then wait…  Am I travelling up a creek bed?  Shit.  I turned around and told the woman following me that we were going the wrong way.  Backtrack.  I kept moving and then my friend Michelle came running past.  “Were only about a mile away!” she said.  Michelle!  Always smiling.  Eternally helpful.  We met at CTS Ultra Camp earlier this year and have shared the hardship of preparing for this race together.  She’s become a good friend to me.  I was thinking about how funny it was earlier before the race when we both tried to “rest” in her cabin at the start and we just both burst out laughing, super giddy, and flaky before the race because of all of the missed details we forgot.  I was determined to follow her into the aid station and then, WHAM!  I super-manned into the ground.  My first real fall in a real long time of running trails.  I pushed up quickly and did a quick check, amazed that I didn’t seriously hurt anything.  This is TOO early I told myself.  I dusted off and kept going.

My buddy Michelle and I at the start.

Slight uphill mile and I was running into the aid station.  Claps, cheers, shouts of “great work runner,” and then I saw my amazing wife and family.  They have never crewed for me before.  Well, Jeana had a small taste at Black Canyon 100k earlier this year, but she had THE Jason Koop helping her help me and the other CTS athletes.  Not a bad way to learn.  My mother-in-law and father-in-law, Kathy and Martin were there to help.  So was Michelle’s HILARIOUSLY awesome friend, Janna.  They were amazing!  They had everything laid out perfectly.  Martin told me about available food choices, and informed me that I was way early and let me know how much climbing and distance there was until the next aid.  Kathy gave me all the things I asked for.  Jeana had my electrolyte bottles ready and they were swapped out quickly, and I told her I somehow ran out of water in my bladder and we must have incorrectly filled it to my allotted 32 oz per big section before the start.  This time it was right.  We reset for the next big push and I had new life.  Especially after some ginger ale to help my stomach.  I wasn’t sick but it felt tight.  I was told that I was there ten minutes already, and I was thankful for being a bit early.  Time to head out.  I profusely thanked everyone and the volunteers, checked out, and then I moved out of the aid station with Michelle right behind me.

You would never know my family has not crewed.

Wow!  Finally, smoother trails.  I mixed hiking and running as it started heading up, but I was also a bit worried that I might be pushing too hard in the beginning.  Michelle passed me and disappeared from sight.  Wouldn’t see her again for a long while.  I pressed on.  During this section I sort of zoned out.  It was the dead of night.  I kept experiencing eerily strange feelings with the wind picking up and dark quiet.  I can’t explain it.  I power-hiked the steep sections like a beast and passed multiple people (my one true strength on this one), only to be passed again on the downhills that kept hiding things to trip me.  Somewhere close to the 50k mark, my stomach wasn’t great.  Not the normal nausea or dehydrated feeling that I have experienced.  Grossly, I realized that with the long day and late start I had not had my, um… normal “regularity” and that I probably was not digesting normally.  Basically, the feeling that I might have to go to the bathroom and I probably could not.  I reached the next aid station and in true Josh Holer bluntness blurted it out to everyone and no one in particular.  Some laughed, some cringed.  At least I provide comic relief.  One of the aid station volunteers said she was a nurse and said that I as long as I was urinating, I would be fine.  I told her “well, I have gone twice in 7 hours” and she told me to start drinking more (with big eyes).  So, food was going great, and I was probably still not drinking as much as I should have, and that became a problem to solve.  I was drinking very well in my mind, but the humidity of this area was also causing me to sweat way more despite cooler temps, so I said I would be on top it.

I shared the next 6.4ish miles leapfrogging with another Colorado runner from Denver.  His name escapes me.  We would do this with each other for most of the rest of the race.  The remainder of the downhill in this section was more of the same, rocky, hot-garbage B.S. I spoke of earlier and I hit a real huge mental low before the quick turn to blacktop and the North River Gap aid station at mile 37.13.  My left knee was feeling cranky and the bottom right of that same heel was feeling painful.  I couldn’t figure it out.  Before coming around the corner, to my family and more salvation, there was another guy who ran to his crew and tried to quit.  Said his knees were shot.  I tried to ignore it, because I had never wanted to quit more myself this early in a race, and I was SUPER disappointed in myself for even thinking about it.  I came around the corner to see my family again, and slumped into a waiting chair.  “I need to change my socks for the next 30 miles” I said.  Martin informed me that I was ten minutes early and I was shocked.  I thought I was already an hour late or more.  Not that it really matters this early.  I was mentally dreading the biggest climb of the day in my head and thinking about how poorly I felt.

My wife and Kathy told me how great I looked.  I started crying.  Seriously.  I was crying and I was only a little over 1/3 done.  Then laughing and telling jokes a few minutes later.  I complained about my ability to keep my time goal.  Martin told me food that was at the aid station and then brought me broth with potatoes at my request.  I had Nutella, and Coke.  I scarfed everything down and realized my stomach was SOLID.  I chalked everything up to the fact that my mind felt like I was in last push in the dark of a race that begins in the early morning and goes through the night.  Just a mind game.  That’s all.  I switched out my headlamp for my lighter one because daylight was only 3ish hours away.  That way my wife could have the battery of my powerful one ready for the next time I came through or later the next day.  I was just sick of the weight on my head.  My neck and shoulders were tired from using poles, and a heavy pack.  Dang aid stations were so far away you needed to carry more.  Especially when you are slower than you think you’ll be.  But then I had new life.  I was ready to own the next climb and get to the turnaround so I could I could do it all again in reverse.  Hahahahaha!

Best crew ever!

I headed up the flattish trail leading away from the aid station, turned right, and then pushed up the longest frigging climb of my life.  At least at that point in the race.  I just kept pushing.  And pushing.  Darkness, wind, cold, steep, repeat.  Some slight downhills here and there.  When is daylight coming?  I was still eating on the hour.  Rotating my electrolyte fluid and water.  Peeing regularly.  Good enough.  But getting tired.  Somewhere up this climb the race leader came barreling downhill.  I was impressed and jealous at the same time.  Simply astounding athletic talent and grit!  Onward.  I crested the top of that climb and it was cold.  Fog and wind.  It was hard to see but there was rolling terrain and I jogged it out to the next aid station at just shy of 45 miles.  I probably needed a jacket, but I just threw on my gloves.  I was not really feeling the food I was carrying, so I deviated from cardinal rule #1:  Don’t do anything new on race day.  But holy God were those pierogis delicious!  Like greasy, awesome goodness.  I had those and ginger ale, and then was able to stow my headlamp.  Daylight had come.  I thanked everyone and ran out.  The next miles were rolling until coming up on a dirt road that actually led to a blacktop road.  Here we had to summit Reddish Knob which was littered with graffiti, cars, and people.  I punched my bib and head down the road to the turnaround!  I was about 1 mile away and saw Michelle’s smiling face heading back.  She encouraged me with “almost there!”  There were so many cars on the road, and apparently, there a was a dirt bike event going on, so I did my best not to gag on their fumes while they drove up the road.

I was very happy to hit the turnaround.  I sat in a chair and a very nice volunteer took care of all my needs.  I busted out my staple “does anyone know when this 10k ends?” line, and everyone laughed.  I was freezing!  I donned my jacket, pulled the buff over my ears, and kept my gloves on.  My volunteer told me the food choices and then brought me a sweet pancake filled with eggs, which I devoured.  Then more Coke.  Another volunteer said he had Fireball whisky and PBR.  I said, “Not on your life!”  I applied some pain cream to sore areas, and then had more food and then joked about eating with some very disgusting fingers.  And then I had to go.  It was windy and freezing.  Definitely not normal weather for here.  The aid station had cars setup to help people stay warm.

I thanked everyone and then dodged the cars and motorcycles as I crossed the road to head back out.  51.6 miles and well over 12k in climbing at this point.  Onward!  I have to admit that I was a bit frustrated going back up the road.  The motorcycles were really pissing me off.  I guess just the noise and the smell.  I came up and around the curve leading to the dirt road again and had to barrel through a group of them just sitting there blocking the way.  I ran into my Denver buddy again who explained that he just summitted Reddish Knob again because he couldn’t see the turn that they were blocking.  Oh man!  I was upset for him.  On the way down this runnable road, the motorcycles just kept coming, and I stayed on the flat section with ZERO care for their access.  I refused to move.  I sort of felt bad, but not really.  I was glad to get to the bottom and head back towards the next aid.  This rolling section felt more up than down to me and I was very happy to get there.  I went into brainless mode and just kept plugging, but the aid station came slower than expected.

I swore and said F this Sh** when I got there.  The volunteers laughed and said “woohoo, keep going!”  I said, “No, F this race.  I NEED you guys,” and they laughed.  They helped me top off, and I ate more pierogis.  SO satisfying.  I took a couple tums, and some more ginger ale, and on I went.  Able to take off my jacket and gloves now.  The biggest uphill of the day became the biggest downhill of the day with the biggest uphill of the day.  I did not remember this many climbs (aka downhills) on the way up.  It was hard.  And the steepness was hard to run down, but I was so happy for the daylight that made it easier to find my footing, so I just went into that blank headspace and charged forward waiting.  And waiting.  And finally, I hit the left turn back to the aid station and my family at mile 65.3.  I was fired up here.  I finally had new life and my pacer was waiting! Michelle had reached out to East Coast Trail and Ultra Runners on Facebook to find me Corinna.  Yep, I selflessly helped crewed and paced people all year long and did not coordinate my own pacer too close to the race.  I was so glad to find someone that ran ultras and lived locally in Staunton, VA willing to put up with me for 22+ miles.  We talked a bunch before the race, and she agreed to help out.  She had never paced before, but I was excited to let her give it a go.

I decided that this would be last sock change with about 36.5 miles to go.  I took my time and kept carrying my light headlamp in the hopes that we could make it to mile 80 before the sun went down (again).  Then Corinna would run with me to mile 87 until Jeana could run with me for the last 14.  I ate ravenously at the aid station.  Finally, they had noodle soup.  I had Nutella and ginger ale too.  I was still eating my “Bullseye Foods,” (thanks Koop) which consisted of Probar Bolts, Rice Krispy Treats, Rice Balls, Honey Stinger Waffles, and Skratch, but between aid stations.  At the aid stations, I needed something different to mix it up and since a few new foods weren’t hurting me, I went for it.  Jeana tried to get a picture of me and I gave her a “rolled eye” look.  Kathy helped me change my shirt and then gave me a neck massage with this cool motorized peanut thing.  I also needed to apply some strategic lube because I was starting to chafe in some not so great undercarriage places which can ruin your day if not taken care of.  Martin gave us the time hacks and off I went, thanking volunteers, telling my family I loved them, and chatting with Corinna about the plan.

Not in the mood for photo.  Sorry Babe.

Corinna was the BEST pacer.  She was not pushy.  Suggested things.  Reminding me to eat and drink.  Took some photos.  She kept encouraging me and telling me I did great on running blocks.  If she had never done this before, I would not have known.  We had her first taste of the reallllly sucky rocks going back up, but we had daylight and a mission to meet.  I joked that I at least had an excuse to hike now that we were going UP them.  We pushed solidly and spent a lot of time getting to know each other on the way up to Lookout Mountain aid station.  I was in good spirits and was able to joke with my nurse friend from earlier about STILL not going to the bathroom.  I had some more soup and Coke up there, and then the volunteers forced me out of there.  We had some more climbing up to the top and then the one buttery stretch of trail on the way down.  Somewhere in here magic occurred.  We were on our way into mile 80.3, but I was running!  And I mean, anything that didn’t trip up my increasingly tired legs.

Jeana, Corinna, and I at the start

Running uphill in the 70's.  Credit:  Corinna Stitt

I was doing 11:30 pace on those sections, which for me, is amazing.  Some of them were slight uphills.  This clicked by.  Corinna got to talking about David Goggins and we started passing people.  His concept of #takingsouls.  So, we would run a bit, hike an uphill, and then we would see someone and Corinna would say “go get them!”  And we did.  I would whisper as we passed and say “taking souls…”.   Somewhere really close to the aid station, we caught up to Michelle and Janna.  They were like “Hey!”  All I could muster was, “she’s making me work SO hard” and kept running!  They said “GOOD!” as we passed.  I was rounding a corner and we saw a truck.  I was coming up and then realized it was the aid station, so I passed one more dude to make it into the aid station at Dowell’s.  Way too much fanfare before immediately stopping and sitting.  Oops.

 Trying to move out fast.

I was finally tasting the finish line.  I was also starting to think that sub 30 hours was a reality.  My confidence was rising.  I had some grilled cheese and then applied some more strategic lube.  I donned my powerful headlamp.  More jokes and laughing and setting up the pack for the final stretch.  I had Jeana fill more water.  My feet were really starting to hurt.  Especially my left heel.  But I didn’t care.  We set me up with enough to get to the last real fill up and pacer swap out.  Michelle came in while I was finishing up and looked great.  I hugged and her and said I was sorry I did not talk more when I saw her, and then ran out chasing a time goal.  I was so ecstatic to still have a bunch of daylight.  Corinna and I were able to easily navigate the area I got lost in and fell in an eternity ago.  Then we started the long, crappy, rocky section back up.  We powered through well, but my feet were twisting and turning and folding and bending again.  Somewhere in there we had to turn headlamps on again.  But we moved forward well and most of the downhill into Dry Branch Gap aid station was not too bad.  Almost 89 miles in and I was finally fading.  Corinna called out to Jeana when I got there and it was perfect because they were ready to get me going.  I had more grilled cheese and Nutella and Coke. Before the race my coach Adam suggested I get a waist lamp to help.  I shrugged it off saying I had spent enough money on stuff.  At this point, I sort of listened and was able to get my spare headlamp around my waist to point at the ground for more focus, which helped a ton.

I said that my feet really hurt, but I didn’t want to change socks.  I wanted to go.  I thought foolishly that Jeana and I could cover the remaining ½ marathon-ish in about 3:15 to hit sub 30.  Normally, it would be a piece of cake.  But I was almost 90 miles in.  I also told Jeana excitedly that Corinna and I had tackled the two really bad rocky sections so she wouldn’t have to.  That would prove to destroy me soon.  I hugged Corinna goodbye, who was now my new lifelong friend and thanked her profusely.  She was going to go home and take care of her dog, then head to the finish line.  Jeana and I set off towards the final aid station.  On our way out the only directed way to go from volunteers, we ran into a guy who said he hadn’t seen flagging in a while.  He was solo.  I assured him this was the only way to go and we started our strong hike up.  We passed quite a few people on the first big climbs.  A few were falling and some were so dead looking that I was worried for them.  I was still on my mission and happy to have Jeana telling me stories about the day and relaying messages from friends congratulating me.  I was strong for a bit, but then the rocks and rough terrain came again.

I DID NOT remember this being so hard in the beginning of the day.  Even when still dark out.  We stayed near the same few guys leap-frogging for the remainder.  No one else passed us.  But I started to go south.  Jeana relayed to me after (like a good wife and pacer) that she was appalled at how much I was tripping and stumbling and falling over the rocks.  When we finally stopped climbing and hit the gravel road back downhill to the last aid station, I was done.  We were at about mile 92.  I knew sub-30 was gone, but I was okay with it.  I just whined and groaned and Soldiered on.  I complained a lot.  I even sat on the side of the trail to eat.  One time I heard our new friends behind us close by and I apologized and said “Guys I am so sorry for sounding like a whiny baby on these rocks.  I am just SO sick of not being able to run on this stuff.”  One of the guys said, “It’s okay.  At this point, you are allowed to and I just want to get this done and NEVER think about it again.”  So much for having any more fun.  I felt that way too.

We hit the final aid station and I can’t remember much.  I had let the need to eat go about 30 minutes longer than I should have because I was holding out for their food.  I don’t even remember what I had.  I just remembered that this section was the unmarked white blaze trail that continued for 3 miles, and then there was about 2 to go around Camp Shenandoah to the finish.  I mean why make it an even 100 miles and just go straight down the road to camp?  I guess that is Clark Zealand’s choice and prerogative, he’s the race director. And it makes the challenge bigger, so good.  We left the aid station, crossed a road, and then some railroad tracks I remembered.  We had one big climb left, but it felt way longer and worse this time around.  On our way up, the blazes were easy to follow, and I was happy because I was worried about getting lost.

We came upon a group of people standing around.  Someone was hurt and needed an ambulance.  Having a medical background in the military, I asked if everything was okay.  A few were on the phone and a lot of people were handling it.  I told Jeana we should go because there was just too many people with their hands in the cookie jar.  I felt a little bad, but I also needed to be done and more people complicates things.  We started downhill and turned off the double wide road on a section that I missed earlier which was only marked with an arrow made out of sticks.  This section was not allowed to have markings of any kind.  Then on the remainder of the downhill, I was mentally done.  I tripped and stumbled and lost direction in creek beds and dealt with more of the rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks, rocks.  Poor Jeana.  I was okay otherwise.  I mean legs and all.  My left heel was so painful and my right ankle was really irritated by my shoe digging into it.  Nothing I could do.  I was STILL running runnable, but for shorter breaks.  But she had to listen to me whine and have my little meltdowns.  We hiked and ran around the camp when we saw markings again knowing that we were close.  

Jeana texted her parents and I got mad.  What the heck is wrong with me?  Only time of the day I was a little mean or irritated with my loved ones.  I didn’t know why.  Part of me wanted the finish line to be a surprise, but then I was over it quickly and realized how tired they were too, plus Corinna needed to know.  It was late.  They all thought I would be two hours earlier.  I apologized.  My wife had done what I have already told I here I would never do again:  Crew all day and night and then pace someone after.  She’s my hero.  And does not even run ultras.  It was almost 2:00 am on the second night/morning/whatever.  We came around the pond, and made it across the grass slowly.  Then we hit the road and I ran as strong as I could.  We turned the final corner and they had little torches lighting the way to the finish line.  I crossed side by side with my wonderful pacer wife and the announcer congratulated me, and handed me my buckle and finisher shirt.  Official time of 32:10.  101.85 miles and 23,000 feet of vertical gain and descent for a total of 46,000 feet of change.  Way slower than my first 100 at Run Rabbit (and way harder too).  It looked like a morgue with people lying around having finished or waiting for their runner.  I cried of course.  Kathy and Martin were there and so proud of me.  Corinna had to get home and work the next day, so I did not get to see her, but doesn’t matter.  She’s family now.  I jokingly told the announcer I wanted to tackle Clark and he joked back and said that’s why Clark is resting inside and I am doing this.  Funny!  I sat in a chair, was wrapped shivering in blankets, and brought food by my family, then Martin went to get the car to take us back to the Airbnb to rest.

Done!  Thanks babe.  

This race humbled the crap out of me.  As Jeana and I were flying in the day before, I looked down at the mountains.  When we were driving in from the airport, I looked over at them again and said, wow, those look like little bumps.  This should be great!  Ahahahahaha!  Famous last words.  The East Coast is a rocky nightmare for a guy like me with smooth Colorado trails to train on.  No joke.  Totally cancelled out my altitude acclimation.  Granted I could breathe fine and my heart rate was the lowest it’s ever been, but it also could have been really hot and humid.  So, there’s that.  And it’s fine.  I am choosing to proudly proclaim that I pushed through a huge personal challenge and multiple obstacles.  As David Goggins says, “This is training for LIFE.”  As much as this sucked in the sense of difficulty, I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.  These things make me a better person and show me that I can do anything.  This race showed me just how much I am loved by family, friends, and even strangers alike.

  Awesome buckle.

I have already publicly thanked everyone but I want to state again just how amazing my wife, and parents-in-law are.  Corinna for pacing me and helping me rally at the end.  Michelle for being my friend, giving me a full course writeup, and sharing her cabin with me before the race.  Andy Jones-Wilkins and Adam St. Pierre for coaching me and giving me the tools to train successfully.  I could not have done this without any of you!  Clark puts on an amazing race, I suggest you try it if you want to kick your own ass.  The people are wonderful and humble, and give great perspective about the fact that we GET to do this.  Also, they give out amazing swag.  Gigantic thanks to all of the volunteers and families offering help and encouragement.  This is a community.  And finally, to Bill, the ranger at Camp Shenandoah who helped me track down my forgotten drop bag and turned out to be a fellow retired Soldier from Fort Carson.  Small world indeed.

Keep moving forward.

Black Canyon Ultras 100k - Pure Bliss

Man have the last 8 months have been amazing!  My life is so awesome I cannot stand it.  Seriously. This post is going to be about my experience at the Black Canyon Ultras 100k.  But, if you follow me, you know I am a talker.  I am wordy and nerdy.  So, before I share the 100k race details, I want to talk a little bit about the awesomeness in my life leading up to this race.  Stick with me.  It’s a cool story.

You already know how stoked I am to be a CTS athlete.  I feel like a member of an amazing tribe of athletes dedicated to training to the best of their ability to be the best version of an ultra-marathoner I can be. Regardless of my mid-pack status, I am treated like I am important, valued, and successful.  It’s evident in my relationship with my coach, AJW, and was even more evident during and after the race, as I’ll explain in a bit. Thank you, CTS, from the top of my heart.

https://trainright.com

Training and life have been amazing.  Since completing my own, tough, homegrown 50-miler in November, my confidence has grown, and as one who runs, I finally feel like I am at a level of fitness to tackle some bigger races.  The body is responding well, I am recovering faster, and finally feel like I am making sustainable progress.  I read somewhere not long ago, that it is important not to define myself in the realm as ultra-runner.  It’s not ME, it’s something I do, and something I aspire to get better at.  I want to carry this with me as I get older, and especially, if I have more time off or something keeps me from continuing in the sport.  It keeps me grounded.  So, for now, I am doing awesome.

In December, three amazing things happened to me.  Yes THREE. First, and most important, I married the love of my life.  Jeana and I eloped and exchanged vows in a private ceremony at Mount Princeton Hot Springs, in an area of Colorado very near and dear to our hearts.  A place we want to settle in eventually.  Second, on a whim, I bought some raffle tickets for a drawing at the Western States Lottery, and to my extreme surprise, my name was drawn and I am guaranteed entry in 2020 as long as I qualify(ied)?! Boom!  #seeyouinsquaw!  Finally, I left my great job at Harris Corporation to accept a position with the U.S. Forest Service.  Talk about aligning with my life and dreams.  I should play the real lottery!

In the weeks leading up to the race, I was able to enjoy some time off due to the federal furlough. My training was on point, and to make things even better, I heard from Jason Koop and AJW that Koop would be present to support at the race because two amazing CTS athletes would be running, Kaci Licktieg and Dakota Jones!  Rockstar status.  Jeana was excited because she would be crewing and potentially pacing me for the first time at a real event, and was going to have expert advice on hand with Koop.

A few days before the race, I was also honored to get an email from Brock Cannon accepting my ambassador status for Prevail Botanicals (see link on side), an amazing pain-relieving salve that is CBD-based, with other healing ingredients.  Thanks so much my man!  This awesome company and team of athletes of all ranges is wonderful. When I got my news about WS100, I vowed right then and there to remain humble, positive, and grateful for the fantastic gifts in my life. Prevail holds me accountable by requiring us to be just that!  I love it, and it gives me daily motivation to be the best version of myself that I can be. Do your research and figure out the wonderful benefits that come from CBD.  It’s changed my life.

Happiness in a salve!

ONTO THE RACE!

Training has been tough! Not every day is sunshine and gravy. Some days hurt.  Sometimes I am not motivated.  Sometimes you pass out at a book signing for Scott Jurek a few days out from a key 30-mile training run due to dehydration and not eating enough JJ  Seriously! All in all, though, I have never felt more prepared for a race than I did last weekend.  A few days before, AJW and I shared a call and went over all the details.  He confirmed my readiness, gave the words of wisdom, kept me honest, and encouraged me. Thank you, coach.  You are awesome!

A couple days before the race, I learned that my friend Shannon’s wife, Megan, had been diagnosed with cancer.  It was a shock to me.  I’ve only met Megan a handful of times, but cancer plus Megan does NOT compute in my brain. This is a fit woman without any of the warning signs you see when you think of this crummy disease.  It hit me hard because cancer has been so prevalent in my life (lost my father and grandmother, and a good friend).  I met Shannon in Fort Collins out on the trails through a mutual friend back in my grad school days (Hey you’re Wheaties Boy, right?!? Hahaha), and have always admired him and appreciated his friendship.  He was personally responsible for nudging me to apply as a Pearl Izumi Champion back in 2015.

I audibly cried upon hearing the news of Megan, but then was extremely motivated at the whole Price-Settle family’s approach to throat-punching cancer’s stupid ass in the face with lightheartedness, determination, and HOPE.  I messaged Shannon and asked him if it would be okay to run in Megan’s honor and use their story to fuel my fire when I hit some lows. They were honored and I tried to humbly post a quiet message on Facebook about my plan.  Shannon wasn’t having that and publicly praised me for the effort. I was honored to join in this venture, and NOW I was really determined and motivated to give all I had.

For YOU Megan

Jeana and I boarded a plane and were off to Phoenix on Valentine’s Day.  After a Whole Foods trip for clean food, we headed to the Creekside Preserve near the start line for a little mini vacay before the race. I do not travel well, so having an extra day to recoup was nice.  We woke up the next morning and took our time.  We checked out the start at Arcosanti, and headed to the race expo that afternoon.

What a great group Aravaipa is!  Great swag and a good expo.  I was able to meet some heroes (Zach Bitter, Eric Senseman), and was able to meet Kaci Licktieg.  Let me tell you:  Kaci is the nicest, sweetest, most approachable, badass trail-crushing woman I have ever had the honor to meet.  Jeana and I adored her.  Thanks for chatting, sharing, and making me feel special Kaci.  Congrats on an amazing win and strong race!  I also met up with a local stud I met out on the trails here in CO Springs, Adam Doe (20^thoverall!) and we talked for a bit and wished each other well.  I also met Howie Stern, who would be capturing the race on camera with his amazing talent.  Finally, I met up with an awesome guy I met last year at Sangre De Cristo, Joe Von Bokern, who was running his first 100k.  We chatted for a while, and then went our separate ways, excited that our wives could support each other while supporting us.  After waiting to meet up with some Prevail teammates to wish each other well, Jeana and I headed back to the hotel to eat and rest.

Chatting with Zach Bitter

I slept well, and woke up to find that the rainstorm from the day before had forced a reroute of what I expected to be my first ever point to point course.  The Agua Fria river was too dangerous to cross on the back half of the course, so we had to add a loop at Black Canyon City, and then backtrack on the course for 11 miles, then turn around to come back to finish. Oh well!  So be it.  Blah blah blah.  I wasn’t letting it hurt me.  Stuff happens.  Let’s DO this!  We let fellow CTS athlete Bruce Holbert know that we were bagging the prospect of Jeana pacing me, and that his wife did not have to help us get her to Table Mesa now, and then we headed to the cold, rainy start.

Arcosanti was a muddy mess when we arrived.  The race crew had warming tents and fires going, which was nice.  It was a little chaotic, and Jeana and I were so thankful we had done packet pickup at the expo.  Huge line to get settled in for others.  Chatted with random folks, texted Joe to check in, and then headed outside to the start.  I was able to meet Dakota Jones at the beginning and tell him I was rooting for him. Jeana moved off to the side and I lined up somewhere in the middle.  It was raining hard, windy, muddy, and cold.

Thankfully, I was prepared with the gear I needed to keep me comfortable.  It was hard to hear the announcement from the race director, but I just started moving when the herd took off.  The race starts at around 4000 feet of elevation, which is low for me, so I needed to reign myself in.  My theme all day was “I have more lungs than legs!”  AJW and others warned me that many go too fast because of the net downhill of the course.  I found myself early on ensuring that I eased off.  I spent a lot of time just chatting with folks I met and learning of their race plans for the year and their history.

After the dirt road and paved section, a couple miles in, the mud began and there was a crossing of Big Bug Creek to tackle.  Water was moving fast and I was thankful to cross easily, however, I was also assured that the reroute was probably a good idea.  After that the mud was not too bad, but it was sticky.  I kept think to myself “How annoying will this be if my left heel keeps sticking in the mud all day?”  But, I pushed that thought away.  It would remain for about 15 miles to my recollection.  The time clicked, it warmed up, and I hit the first 8-mile aid station quickly.  I ensure that I was eating, drinking, and doing my systems check from the get go. I passed through fast after topping fluids.  Enroute to the second aid station, I met up with a guy who informed me that he had run the entire original course the evening prior, and was now on his way to doing a double on race day.  Kudos man! I was impressed.  Even more so because he was moving fast.

After the second aid, there was a gorgeous single-track section that just felt so good to run.  I eased the pace, but also glided along feeling really good.  During this section I was able to chat with some folks I met at the start from Boulder, CO and my home state of IL who were funny and made me laugh.  Their names were Elizabeth and Ethan.  Good peeps.  Time passed nicely and the next thing I knew, I was at Bumble Bee aid station where Jeana and Koop would be waiting.  I was approximately 20 miles in, and feeling pretty decent, with the exception of my knees, most notably from the continuous running I am not really used to and the net downhill.  Also, my feet were feeling tender and I debated about changing shoes, but decided not to for time’s sake.

I hit the 20-mile mark in almost 4 hours, right where I wanted to be.  Seeing Jeana and Koop made me feel like royalty.  CTS was all setup with a tent and chairs.  I have zero issues with sitting, so I did just that. All my needs were taken care of, topped off, and prepped.  Jeana was so encouraging about how well I was moving.  I looked at Koop and said “Intervals!” and just laughed.  I also put on a healthy dose of Prevail on quads and knees.  I told Jeana to put every bit of food and drink mix in my pack as I had eaten all I carried from the start.  A nice sign. Things were looking good.  I asked about Joe and was told he was behind me, which surprised me.  I was hoping all was well and that I would see him.  I thanked everyone and rolled out.

Jeana and I at Bumble Bee

Crewed By Koop

The next section was blurry and felt easy.  I just took my time hiking it out of Bumble Bee and chatting with more people.  The heat never got up and it was perfectly comfortable outside.  I spent quite a bit of time moving back and forth with another gal I met, Natalie, who was from IL, and it was cool to be able to chat and have a reference for pacing and motivation.  Sometimes leap-frogging is effective to provide that extra push both ways.  We would continue to see each other almost all day.  I hit Gloriana Mine aid station and made a mental note that this would be the final turn around at the end of the day, so I paid careful attention to the course over the next section.  I was informed it was 7 miles and net downhill to the next aid station.  Hmmmm…

The first cool aspect of the course reroute happened around the marathon mark.  It was so neat to be able to see the front runners on their way into mile 51 of the race.  Still mind blowing.  I cheered them all on and many were just determined and giving it all they had.  I saw Jared Hazen and joked with him, but he looked rough and didn’t have anything to say.  At this point there was probably the first tough-looking climb that I “affectionately” referred to as mother-f’er hill for the remainder of the day. Natalie and I were not going to let the challenge of that one mess us up mentally.  I thought to myself, especially on the way back in… And then found inspiration as Kaci was killing it on the way up.  Around the 50k mark I made another mental note that I had hit the distance around 7 hours, so this was a personal best for me in a long while and also midpoint in a huge race.  F yes! Also, now was when I hit a low point, right after the Soap Creek aid station and a short section of pavement to Black Canyon City because of the reroute.

I am not the biggest fan of concrete.  Also, I was doing so well all day that I was not too happy about slowing a bit, but all was well.  I looked at my bib and used Megan for inspiration.  Time to show cancer that it can go suck it!  At this point, Senseman passed by looking determined.  Not even a few mins later Mocko came running by. Awesome sauce.  They would place 2^ndand 3^rd.  There was a slight uphill on the road, then some easy single-track back on trails into Black Canyon City aid station.  This was also now the finish line for the 60k.  When I arrived, there were tons of cheers but also chaos.  Probably my only complaint of the day.  No one’s fault because things had to be done but I was confused and not sure where to go. Also, Jeana was surprised when I showed up because she couldn’t tell who was coming or going.  I was also 30 mins faster than expected J

Chug, Chug, Chug

There was a small loop that had to be tackled before heading back to Gloriana Mine, so I pushed to get through the aid station quick.  Koop gave me Kudos for having a voracious appetite, which was awesome, then I decided to change from the Altra Lone Peak 4.0 to the Timp 1.5.  I am going to interject here that I was disappointed in how fast my fairly new Lone Peak 4.0’s ran out of life.  I’d say about less than 200 miles on them.  Also, for the first time I was having a pinky toe issue because the insoles slide around when the shoes get wet.  The Timps buff out the rocks and technical better, but overall still not ideal for me having now run a marathon after a 60k and recent 50k wearing them.  So, I will be looking at shoe options to transition to now.  Sad face.  For the love of God, can I just my Pearl Izumi N2’s back?  J  All suggestions welcome, but I am leaning towards Hoka or Adidas.  Since, the race I’ve already contacted Kaci Licktieg and Joe Gray, and have tried on, and purchased the Hoka Torrent (feels very Pearl Izumi-esque…).

Anyway, while I was changing my shoes, Joe ran up looking solid.  He was not feeling great early on in the day, but had worked things out and was ready to finish.  We set off together for the loop.  The loop was uphill, then had a decent climb up and down in the middle.  We also saw Dave, another Human Potential guy, on his way back in and crushing it!  In badass fashion, Natalie was ahead of us and crushing the uphill.  The turnaround and checkpoint was on the river and we shuffled through.  We moved well together, and just decided to stay with each other for a while.  It was nice to get to know each other more.  And together we made progress and were very evenly paced.  We got back to the BCC aid station, and grabbed our final things for the push back out. I said “22 miles to go!”  Koop said “One mile at a time.”  Wisdom.  Jeana congratulated me, encouraged me, kissed me, and we set off back towards soap creek.

Let's Finish This

Somewhere on the road back, Joe said he had hit a low point.  Even though it was unmentioned, we just kind of melded into encouraging one another and staying together.  It was awesome.  We did cone counting on the road for run sections, hiked when we needed to, and then hit Soap Creek quickly.  There were some good hills coming from earlier (M-f’er Hill remember?).  It was definitely tougher (and longer) moving in the other direction, and also, there is the bigger climb going in.  Joe was a champ and motivated me on the uphill.  At the top, it was finally dark, so we got on warm clothes and threw on the headlamps.  Back on single-track was tough.  Two-way traffic and darkness made for rough going.  I always get a second wind when night falls and I weirdly enjoy running technical trails by headlamp.  It was narrow though, and unavoidable to sometimes stop and let others pass.  This was my time to shine and get Joe moving through this section, as his confidence and training were waning on this section.

My only audible, negative, comment of the day from me came a few miles from Gloriana.  There was a guy and his pacer on the side of a steep, technical section who was looking rough.  Another guy was running towards us and had to go around the dude having trouble.  He audibly said “WTF man!” as he passed, clearly angry about the guy blocking a part of the trail.  The troubled guy’s pacer, who really didn’t understand what happened asked, “what was that?”  My response to her as the guy was going past me was, “Nothing, just some entitled guy acting like a little bitch!”  I hoped he heard me.  Then I let it go and kept running.

Gloriana appeared, and looked glorious!  Zach Bitter was there filling up bottles.  Ramen soup and ginger ale were flowing.  I was pumped.  My legs were also sooooore.  Mostly quads and knees.  I pulled out my Prevail and used it up on both legs/quads/knees to get me back home. Joe and I didn’t waste time and we left running.  51 miles in and running.  Take that, sore legs.  We got through the single-track section well, and took M’fer Hill back up and down like champs.  Despite my unhappy knees.  More encouragement for each other all night long.  Somewhere on the way back, I told Joe that he was such an amazing running partner that I couldn’t even imagine not having him with me next year to pace at Western States.  I knew I was there because we were easily going to finish near the 15:30 mark.  1.5 hours less than qualifying time.  Joe was like “What?!?!” and he said he was honored and that we would talk over the next year and figure things out.

The last aid station appeared, and there was more soup and ginger ale.  I came in and said, “Hello beautiful!”  A young guy sitting assisting with who appeared to be our teenage 100k runner, (yes, a kid in his TEENS was running the race), said, “Who, me?”  I said, “YEAH YOU J” and we all joked and laughed.  Joe and I left quickly and joyously ran the road back into town.  The last bit was rough because it seemed like eternity before we hit the turn off to the finish, but we got there and eased it in, crossing the finish line side by side in 15:36 and some change.

Jeana, Alex, and Koop were waiting at the finish line to congratulate us!  I was stoked!  I profusely thanked Koop for staying until the end, and his response, was “Are you KIDDING me?”  I guess sometimes, I just think I don’t deserve the attention because I am not in the same league as the front runners.  I was the last CTS athlete to cross the line.  Koop and CTS proved this wrong and showed me that I matter and that I deserve this kind of treatment.  I made some joke about wishing I was faster and that I had work to do, knowing that, in all honesty, I could have been an hour faster, I just wanted to ensure I did not blow up and that I hit my goal of qualifying for WS100. Not to mention, it was far more enjoyable to run with Joe.  Koop questioned me about this, and I mentioned that it was my best performance ever. He laughed and just said “Enjoy it and feel proud that you feel great after running 100k!”  No B.S., common sense advice.  I’ve learned a lot from that man, his book, and super-solid coaching under AJW.  I’m so happy I found them.

Finished!

We ordered our finish line pizza, posed for buckle photos, and said goodbye to Joe and Alex so we could go rest.  Natalie crossed the finish line and I introduced her to Jeana.  My wife was amazing and drove us to our already checked-in new hotel.  It was glorious. I slept fitfully, and dealt with sore legs all night, but all-in-all, I have recovered quickly from this event in just a week’s time.  I am going to take things easily for 4-6 weeks because I have had some trouble with my left hamstring/adductor muscle, but then it’s on to train and crush goals for the remainder of the year.  Jeana told me that I was not accepted in the lottery for Cascade Crest at the finish line, so my new plan is to run Grindstone 100 as a Hardrock qualifier and just stay near AJW in Oct.  Despite my declaration that I would not race any other things this year (yeah right), I already put in for Waldo 100k lottery and will run Quad Rock 25 with Jeana for her first big trail event in May.  I also have pacer duty, and potentially helping out at WS100, Leadville, and HR100, etc.  So, it looks to be a good year!

As always, these things don’t happen without a team of people making it so.  Thank you to all of my friends and family for posting on Facebook and checking up on me while encouraging me during the race!  Thank you to Aravaipa and the amazing aid stations and support crew for pulling off an amazing race, especially with last minute changes.  The course was almost on par with the original with 5k of climbing and about 6.4k of descent.  Our amazing friend Caty watched our doggo and hung out with Anya all weekend.  Thank YOU, Caty, you are the best.  And for Megan and Shannon for allowing me to join in their cancer battle and for being with me in spirit over 62-ish miles of this gorgeous course.

Team Effort Right Here

I realized that I did not stop or take a single picture along the course.  So, I borrowed this one off of Travis McWhorter’s Facebook Page, because it sums up the views all day!  Photo Cred:  Travis.

Dude...

Once again:  #SEEYOUINSQUAW