MOAB 240
Well, I don’t think anyone saw 2020 coming but as we do in our daily lives we adjust, adapt, and overcome. The Covid pandemic required a bit more effort and sacrifice than usual but perhaps we’ll find that we came out the other end of it a little smarter and tougher than we thought! Time will tell I suppose but the adjustments having to be made last year is also the story of my own experience at the Moab240 in 2020.
My intention was to run the Tahoe200 but at the last minute it was scrapped due to the pandemic. I worked hard because I knew it was going to be a very tough race and when news finally came that it was being cancelled, I was lost. I’ve been lost in the woods before but not nearly to the degree that I was when Tahoe was called off. I could not for the life of me figure out what to do next and more importantly, what to do with the fitness I had built up over months of training. I considered a whole bunch of possibilities but the one ingredient that was missing was motivation. Sure, I could have found 200 miles of trails in the Adirondacks to run but I couldn’t find the reason to do it. After a few weeks of sulking, thinking, and talking to my coach and friends, I settled on joining the Moab240 waitlist. It seemed risky to sign up for it because of the fear of cancelling but it appeared to be on more solid ground as a live event that was actually going to happen!
I was in the low 40’s on the waitlist when I first signed up and slowly but surely, I was working my way up. As part of the transition from Tahoe to Moab, I hatched a plan to take a couple of weeks to drive across the country to get to the race. For one, it seemed safer than flying and would allow me some time to reflect and see some places I hadn’t been before. I’m not a fan of driving long distances but man oh man, it might have been one of the best trips of my life! As a matter of fact, I dubbed it the “What A Life!” tour. So, the plan was to drive to Moab early and help the best course marking crew out there. If over that time I happened to make it into the race then I’d be prepared to do it. If not, then I’d stick around and volunteer to help those lucky souls that were running the Moab240! The day before I left on my trip, the email was received. I was in for the 2020 running of the Moab240! I may or may not have pooped my pants because it was that scary and had all of a sudden become very real!
I’ll spare you the details of the “What A Life!” Tour and save them for another time. Trust me when I say, it was EPIC!
And so was Moab! Course marking was fun, scary, exhausting, and educational. I was able to see a fair amount of the course by hiking several miles with relatively heavy packs for several days in a row. The biggest benefit though was being able to adjust to the temperature and altitude of the area and course. I’m coming from Syracuse, NY, which sits at a comfy 381 ft above sea level and can get quite humid. In contrast, Moab is a little over 4,000 ft above sea level and not humid, at least not compared to Central NY in the summer time.
After about a week of course marking, I moved to a tent site at the RV park where the race starts and finishes. I tried to help out a little bit but since I wasn’t doing any heavy lifting, I felt more useless than useful so I just hung around and obsessed about how to pack my drop bags, what to pack, and all the other things that go through an ultrarunners mind in the days leading up to a race!
When I set out for Moab, I had no intention of having any pacers or crew. Mostly because I feel an incredible sense of guilt asking someone to give up a long weekend to fly across the country (at their expense) all to make sure my blisters weren’t getting too bad and to ensure I was eating/drinking enough! However, after a couple days of course marking and witnessing first hand how gnarly the course could be in places I called for reinforcements. Fortunately, my buddy Bradford was able to make it happen at the last minute. Bradford isn’t an ultrarunner but has completed several triathlons and even competed at the World Championships at the half Ironman distance in South Africa a few years back. I felt good about having him there to crew for me because he understands endurance sports and would be a great resource for me. He arrived a couple days before the start of the race so I gave him a crash course in how my car was packed, which aid stations he could get to and not get to, and tried to familiarize him as much as I could. I told him, when in doubt, at an aid station, ask one of the volunteers or another crew. Ultras bring out the best in people and every race I’ve been to, runners, crew, and volunteers alike are all there to help each other. And once again, I was proved correct because at the end Bradford had a great time and helped out tremendously by other crews.
Race morning, packed and as ready as I could be to get going:
The race started as every other does, in my mind I couldn’t comprehend what distance I was about to run. It’s never mattered what the distance was because I’m never really sure what the trail will throw at me. Due to Covid, the race started in waves and based on my estimated time, which I pegged pretty close to the overall race cutoff, I was placed in the first wave at 6 am. The two other waves were 6:30 and 7:00 am. Even though the crowd was smaller at the start line it was no less exciting and nerve-wracking! We heard the anthem, took the runners pledge, counted down and off we went.
Start to Hidden Valley:
There’s nothing to report about the start of the race really, except that you get a spectacular view of the sunrise as you make your way to the first aid station at Hidden Valley. It’s a great way to start the race and is only the first of many times you’ll be amazed with the views, vistas, and stars over the duration of your time on course.
This was a section of the course I had helped mark and was familiar with it. I found myself holding my head up (proud of the marking we’d done) as we made our way through hidden valley although I certainly didn’t announce it just in case anyone happened to take a wrong turn…. I didn’t want the other runners to blame me.
Hidden Valley to Amasa Back:
My first mistake came during the long downhill Jeep trail section when I got caught up in the momentum and not wanting to use my quads to slow myself down, I let fly and when I got to the bottom, my quads were on fire! Along the road to Amasa Back I walked some to try to loosen up my legs without much luck. I was concerned that I’d over done it at a very early point in the race. I told Bradford as much when I saw him there. By this point, the faster runners from the 2 other waves were passing us slower folk in the first so Amasa Back was pretty busy. It was still early so I sat for a few minutes and chatted with Bradford and a couple of other people but didn’t really eat too much. Not eating real food early would haunt me later on! I have a hearty stomach so it wasn’t that I didn’t want food but just didn’t feel like it was necessary. I had a plan to use Spring Energy, salt tabs, and snacks for the most part, especially early on and it seemed to be working so at Amasa I didn’t take too much, maybe some chips, cookies, and half pb&j. After a few minutes, I was off again.
Amasa Back to Base Camp:
On the stretch from Amasa to Base Camp, you traverse the side of the mesa overlooking the Colorado River and if I remember correctly a lot of it was in the shade which was nice! Following the course markers here was tricky but there’s a fair bit of slick rock and nowhere to place the dragons so you have to follow painted (and faded) blazes. I ended up on a lower tier of the trail which could have led to getting lost if not for some friendly bikers that got me back on trail. I was following some runners that were maybe a ¼ mile ahead of me but it was still tricky to stay on trail. Again, the views were spectacular! Along this section of the course there were decent size packs of runners that would come together so it was fun to run with some other folks. The highlight here was Jacksons Ladder…although treacherous I had to take a second to take in one of the most incredible views on course. This climb down requires your utmost attention because it’s not so much a trail as it is a pile of rocks and boulders that have fallen down in a less than orderly fashion! To call it a ladder or staircase is a misnomer.
By this point in the day the Sun was well up in the air but felt as if it was as close to your face as those lights you find in a tanning booth! It was BA-LAZING HOT and not in a good way! Coming down off of Jackson’s Ladder puts you into a wide valley along a dusty road. This may have been the only section I ran out of water by a couple of miles. I was carrying 3L but it was so hot, everyone was coming into the aid station without water.
When I arrived, there were a lot of people there and it was midafternoon so we kept telling each other that the sun will be going down soon and will cool off. The hosts, volunteers, and medics were amazing and doing everything they could to help. It was a tough one to work because so many people were coming in slightly dehydrated.
The turtle is real and it is massive!
I rested for a good bit but again, I failed to eat enough real food. I stuck to my Spring Energy, fruit, and some snacks but just didn’t think I needed any other food.
After filling up, I moved on to the next. I was in good spirits and felt good about my progress to this point but it would soon unravel!
Base Camp to Breaking Bad:
A few things to note on this section.
1. You start off along the Colorado River as it snakes its way through the desert.
2. Several miles into this section my stomach started feeling bad. I couldn’t pinpoint the issue so I stopped every so often to let it settle. After doing this several times, I began to think maybe throwing up would be the best thing for me. I didn’t want to but sometimes it makes you feel better. Shortly before sunset around mile 40, I pulled over and threw up. At first, I was thankful it was mostly liquid but then tried to diagnose why I had gotten sick. I came to the conclusion it was a combination of too many salt tabs, nutrition, the lack of real food, and the heat.
3. After getting sick, I felt great and started flying down the trail, passing a whole bunch of people until finally I was overcome with exhaustion! From that point on, every couple miles I had to stop to rest. This was the only way I could carry on. I did this all the way to Breaking Bad at mile 57.
4. A good portion of this section follows the profile of the mesas. The road feels like it’s part of the way up so at night it can be disorienting because you can see headlamps up ahead but maybe a mile or more behind them because you’ll be following the curvature of the mesa. As the crow flies, they may be a couple hundred yards but by trail, you’ve got a lot of ground to cover.
5. The heat never subsided when the sun went down. I heard another runner say it was because of the cloud cover, the desert heat was trapped a bit so even in the dead of night it was hot and I was sweating like crazy!
6. Arriving at Breaking Bad was great but also frustrating. Someone had put a sign out that it was a mile away so I started counting down and keeping an eye on my watch. Both the distance and time seemed to indicate it was well over a mile and the path was very rocky so I was walking most of it out of exhaustion!
At the aid station, I took some soup and laid down for a bit. I didn’t want anything sweet because my earlier sickness. I maybe had some other snacks but my feet were hurting so much that I didn’t even want to get up to get any food off the table either! After checking my own feet for blisters and taking a while longer than I should have I decided to press on to Indian Creek, the first sleep station.
Breaking Bad to Indian Creek:
I had marked a pretty good portion of this section and knew that it was relatively flat and along some jeep roads so my mind was made up that I would manage the distance and my effort and get to Bradford. As I was developing my race plan, my goal was to get to Indian Creek in 24 hours. I had lost all sense of time and struggled to maintain my composure and mental capacity but I carried on not knowing what time I was going to arrive there or if I’d be able to continue the race.
It was pretty uneventful over that first night. I rested, looked at the stars (when the clouds broke) and thought about friends and family. Along the way, was my first and maybe my biggest breakdown, where I sobbed for a couple of miles, talked to myself out loud and took one step at a time. I began recognizing the terrain as dawn approached and knew I was close to Indian Creek so I tried to hustle as best I could.
Finally, I made it to Indian Creek and retold the story to Bradford. Miraculously, I was an hour or so beyond my goal time of 24 hours. Bradford got on the phone to my coach and told her the story I told him. The prescription was to sleep for a couple of hours and to eat as much food as I could take. Those are two things I did but I was still hesitant to eat too much for fear of getting sick again.
In order to get reception at Indian Creek, Bradford and some other crew figured out that they had to climb part way up the side of a small mesa not too far from the parking and aid station area. It’s funny to hear him tell the story about how people figured that out.
The healing power of sleep is something we take for granted but is on full display during an ultra! I slept for a few hours and ate some food and was ready to get back out there. Bradford and my coach, Kristen, saved the day and quickly assessed that I needed to stick to solid, real food and so I did.
We talked about resetting my goals, times, and paces to the next few aid stations and then I was on my way.
Indian Creek to The Island:
Onward. I was kind of excited about this section because I had driven past a good portion of it and knew it was going to be flat. Much of this segment is through the valley between mesas and dry creek beds. There’s not much shade so when you find some, it’s best to take advantage of it! Because I’d gotten so much rest and nutrition at Indian Creek, I was able to keep my pace up and didn’t have to stop as often as I had been. My rest breaks were more opportunistic rather than forced due to not feeling well. When there was shade or it was about time for some nutrition, I’d stop, cool off, keep my HR down and gather myself. The one thing about mesa’s is that they all look the same so as I was coming up on one that resembled the one where the aid station was, I’d think “holy shit, I made up some great time!” only to realize it was yet another mesa that I’d have to trudge around! Finally, I made it to The Island and much to my surprise, Bradford was there waiting for me. The Island was labeled as accessible but only for 4x4 or off-road vehicles. Quick note, I do NOT have an off-road vehicle…. not even remotely close to one. As it was my sole means of returning home to Syracuse after the race, I asked Bradford to be very careful!
So, there he was, had a cot set up for me and a plan for food. I chowed down two hotdogs and they were some of the most delicious I’ve ever eaten in my life! I indulged in some other food, snacks, and beverages and took a rest. One notable memory from this Aid Station was my new found buddy Doug. Doug has long hair, no shirt and I think cut off jean shorts on, as Bradford was off doing something and I was just sitting there, Doug comes up to me (within inches of my face) and this was our conversation: (try to pretend you’re 90 miles into a race and someone like Doug comes over to you).
Doug - Hey man, my names Doug! Can I get you anything?
Me – Hey Doug, I’m Iain. Thank you but I’m all good right now. My buddy Bradford is over there grabbing something for me.
Doug – Well man, I’m here right now and I’m your friend too so if you need anything just give us a schooowhooop!
Me – (with a smile on my face) You got it Doug. Thanks buddy!
And off he went to befriend someone else.
At nearly 90 miles into the race, everyone is pretty exhausted but the energy and vibe at the aid stations is so incredibly helpful for runners. This aid station was no exception. If a runner came in feeling down, they could not help but feel amazing as they left because the volunteers (Doug included) were helpful, engaging, interactive, and had their own energy going.
Between the surprise of seeing Bradford, my interactions with Doug, and of course the hotdogs, I was ready to go and conquer the world!
The Island to Bridger Jack:
This is not a section I had marked prior to the race so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Other than being stunningly beautiful, I was fortunate enough to have done this segment as the sun was setting. What I saw was indescribable and, in those moments, I couldn’t help be reflect on how fortunate I was to be where I was, despite the pain and exhaustion. Sometimes you can’t help but look on in wonder and have all your fears, anxiety, thoughts, and feelings washed away. If only for a moment.
Along this section, I took my first poop. It was a good one.
Other than the obvious relief that comes along with a good poop, during ultras I’m always conscious of how often I use the facilities, so it was a bit of a mental relief as well.
This segment I found to be very rocky and it seemed like every time my left heel struck the ground there was a sharp rock that would hit in the exact same spot. Every. Single. Step! It was not fun and did not feel good!
Even with the headlamp on overnight, there were a few sections that I felt like the edge of the cliff was right next to me and a single step in the wrong direction would have been big trouble!
Other than my feet feeling like they were all blistered I arrived at Bridger Jack without incident and ready for some food and rest!
I don’t recall how long I stayed here but it was dark when I arrived and dark when I left!
Bridger Jack to Shay Mountain:
I knew going in that this was going to be a tough one. Shay Mtn is one of the higher elevation points of the course and from the intel I’d gathered during course marking, knew there was a wicked climb up to Shay. I didn’t see the climb but I knew it was there and was going to be tough. Nothing prepared me for exactly how difficult it was going to be though!
Leaving Bridger Jack, you spend a short amount of time on some Jeep road before dropping down into the hollow. It was pitch black down there with mountains reaching for what seemed like miles into the air and felt like being in a black hole with no way to escape! This segment was a mix of single track and winding your way through some dry washes. I ended up with a group of runners and we took breaks together and helped navigate because the cows had eaten some of the dragons.
It’s an odd feeling but as the race went on, I seemed to be getting stronger. As long as I ate enough real food at the Aid Stations, slept a bit, and took care of my feet I found myself going back out and not taking as many breaks out of sheer exhaustion and desperation but rather when I chose to. Don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted and my feet hurt but I felt more capable after each aid station stop.
We were getting close to the climb to Shay and as the group was slowing a little bit, I had a burst of energy that I needed to take advantage of so I made the climb on my own and pressed ahead on the road for the final stretch to the aid station.
The climb was brutal and probably the hardest of the entire 240. I’m not sure if it was the elevation or not but I took a short break to catch my breath every handful of steps. As I was making my way up, it seemed to be never ending and to pop out on the road finally was a “hallelujah” kind of moment!
The road from that point on was still pretty long and longer than I remembered when we drove it during course marking but it was a relief to be on solid ground. Even though it was longer than I thought and a good portion up hill, I still knew I was near the aid station.
I arrived at Shay Mtn, checked in, and then went for the food table. Bradford saw me and came over to grab me and as I was on the way to the car one of the very sweet medics stopped me to ask about my bathroom habits. At this point, I was 120 miles in, operating on little sleep, had just had a tough climb, was wobbly because my legs were tired, and she wanted me to remember almost the exact time I’d gone to the bathroom. At first, I said yesterday, and she was shocked and immediately concerned for my well-being. And then I remembered I had in fact pulled over on the side of the road after the worst climb ever and peed into the woods. She asked how long ago and I said about 4 or 5 miles! Her response, “ok, well how long ago was that?”. I kind of made up a number thinking it couldn’t have taken me more than a couple of hours to cover 4 or 5 miles. She finally let me go get some food and drink and made me promise to drink and pee before I left. I think I actually did have a wee before I left too but only after taking a nap.
Shay Mtn to Dry Valley:
It might have been late morning by the time I left Shay and the conversation before leaving revolved around this next section being downhill the whole way. I was looking forward to it but this ended up being one of the most challenging sections for me, mentally and physically. At Shay, I began to worry or at least consider the possibility of being close to the cut off but Bradford did a good job of keeping my mind focused and well ahead of the cutoffs. Prior to leaving each Aid Station, we would figure out a goal pace and estimated time of arrival at the next stop. This helped me tremendously because it gave me something to shoot for and kept my mind “sharp” with a purposeful intention.
Running down was a welcome relief for a while but when the road turned to trail and the sun got hotter and hotter the trail became tougher and tougher. For some reason I had in my mind that it was a short section so perhaps I had expended too much energy early on in the segment. Towards the end, I was getting really frustrated with the course, heat, and how slow I was going and started believing that I wasn’t going to make it. What was the point carrying on, if I wasn’t going to make the cutoff times? I pushed through the low points and emotions and finally made it to Dry Valley. My emotions got the best of me and this was the first time, Bradford saw me breakdown. To his credit, he wasn’t bothered, he got me refocused, some food, and set me up for some sleep. He also picked up some sushi and chocolate milk at the store. At first, the California Roll wasn’t tempting because I was still a little worried about being sick but he encouraged me so I tried one plain, liked it and gobbled up the rest of the roll along with some soy sauce! By this point, Bradford was in a rhythm and had food and drink laid out for me. He had scouted the aid station ahead of my arrival and had everything teed up for me. My usual became hash browns, eggs, bacon, Pedialyte, chocolate milk, and water. But I substituted some things here and there, depending on what was available.
At Dry Valley, I got some solid sleep, awesome sushi, great foot care, and was on my way to Wind Whistle.
Dry Valley to Wind Whistle:
As I had done my research preparing for the race, I knew the next two segments were going to be a place I could make up some time, if I needed to. I wouldn’t say I’m the MOST competitive person in the world but I was so pissed at myself for the previous segment, I really got my mind right and told myself that there would be no breaks along the side of the road for the next 26 or so miles. Dry Valley to Wind Whistle is about 13 miles and then Wind Whistle to Rd 46 is another 13 or so miles and it was all flat, desolate, gravel road. Game on Moab240, I’m about to kick your ass! Is the thought I had going through my head.
I headed out into the dark abyss and it didn’t take long for the hallucinations to start! They were mild and may have had more to do with the way the light from my headlamp bounced off of the brush along the side of the road but for a period of time, it felt like I was running through a neighborhood of rowhouses! I swear, I heard dogs barking as I passed by the homes and I could see second story windows in the shadows!
I checked my GaiaGPS map every so often to make sure I was on the right track and sure enough I was. During this segment, I passed a whole bunch of people, some were running/shuffling/walking, and others were sleeping soundly on the side of the road.
Wind Whistle came up in no time. Not really, but I was pleased with my timing when I arrived. The Aid Station was very quiet and tucked into the back of a camping park. There were a couple of runners on cots, taking a nap, and then the volunteers around the campfire. I felt a little disoriented when I walked up because it was so quiet and inactive! I really could have just walked into some family’s campsite if I hadn’t known better, but I asked anyway. “Is this Wind Whistle aid?” Sure, enough it was. The volunteers were tired too so there wasn’t a whole lot of conversation going on! I sat down for a couple minutes and maybe got some soup but there was a chill in the air that had me shaking, even sitting by the firepit! Since I’d made pretty good time, I thought a little snooze would be ok, since I wasn’t quite ready to eat a meal just yet! So, I went over, as quietly as I could and made myself comfortable. I looked at my watch and told myself that I’d have 30 minutes under the blankets and then hit the road again for the second half. When I woke up a period of time later, the campfire was packed with people, and I couldn’t remember what time I had laid down or what time I told myself I’d get up. I was overcome with this fear that I had just wrecked my entire race and missed the cutoff. I scrambled to my feet, asked for a cheeseburger to go, had some soup, and maybe another snack that I was hanging onto and then left. I was so pissed at myself and was a bit emotional as well thinking that I’d just ruined my chances of finishing.
When I woke up at Wind Whistle, it was one of those feelings like, I had gotten hours and hours of sleep but in retrospect, it had only been about 20-30 minutes!
I didn’t know how long it had been at the time so I hustled my ass to Rd 46. The trail was more of the same, mostly gravel, seasonal roads and flat. Just as I left Dry Valley a little upset with myself, it was the same leaving Wind Whistle. I would not step and rest until I arrived at the next aid station.
The sun was coming up as I made my way to Rd 46. I could see the mighty La Sals beyond knowing that the next couple of segments were going to be brutal! The 3 or so hours it was going to take me to run the 13 miles to Rd 46 were spent cursing myself and crying for screwing up! In my head there were only two things that could possibly happen. I’d get in with minutes to spare before the cutoff and have to leave the aid station without having a chance to rest and get some proper nutrition. The second possibility was that I’d arrive after the cutoff and not be able to continue. Of course, the negative thoughts were at the forefront and usually would be detrimental but even if I were to miss the cutoff, I wasn’t going to give up and pushed myself beyond my limits. No matter the outcome, over the course of that 13 miles I was going to run it and that’s what I did!
I knew I was getting close because I was nearing the 3 hr.+ mark, the sun was coming up, and I could see little bits of the main highway that I’d need to cross. However, there were some small rolling hills so my view was obstructed at times so although it appeared that I would be there after cresting the next hill, sure enough there was another hill to crest. There must have been 100 false summits, which was also a contributing factor to my anger!
As I hustled my way up to the aid station, I took note of how quiet it was, there was very little activity going on. I could feel my heart sink and was waiting for a volunteer to tell me I’d miss the cutoff. Coming into the parking lot, I could see the back of what I thought was my car but did not see Bradford or my usual cot and sleeping bag set up. Again, due to exhaustion, I wasn’t totally sure I was in the right place. Then out of the side of car Bradford appeared, had a big smile and apparently wanted to have a conversation about how the last two segments were! My first question/statement had to do with the cutoff times and how I screwed up. It probably took 4 or 5 times of me asking and him confirming that in fact I had gained time against the cutoff. I still wasn’t so sure and continued asking but each time he confirmed it, I felt a little better. Meanwhile, I was ready to collapse, could not stand straight up, and only wanted to lie down! While he was asking me questions (that I didn’t answer) I was asking for the cot. He mentioned it was in the car, to which I replied, ok, well then get it out! (maybe in a little angrier tone and with some expletives as well). He started walking over towards the aid station where the food was and I said, “Where the “eff” are you going? Get the “eff’ing” cot out?!?!?!” He scrambled a bit as he started to realize what state I was in! I went over to the shade and smell of eggs and bacon while he set up the cot.
After some sleep, more nutrition, a good poop in a very comfortable port-a-john, and some conversation about the next couple of segments I was on my way.
Rd 46 to Pole Canyon:
I knew coming in, this section was going to be tough, and having expended so much energy on the previous two segments I wasn’t sure how I’d fair but I resolved to do the best I could.
Once you get off the road and onto the trail (uphill) it was very difficult and technical. I’m not sure if the trail was naturally made or if the rocks and boulders were dumped there but it was nearly impassable and very difficult to get any kind of rhythm going at all. I only kept telling myself, this too shall pass! Probably a favorite of most trail runners, knowing that no matter how good or bad or easy or difficult a period may be on the trail, it won’t last forever! After some climbing like that, you summit the foothills and are blessed with one of the more beautiful views of the entire course. Almost out of nowhere a meadow that stretches for miles in all directions appears, it’s set at the base of South Mtn and the trail leading to Pole Canyon. I was thrilled to get some downhill/flat action and open running in before hiking up to the next aid station which sits at about 8,600 ft.
Although it was hot, I don’t recall stopping all that much on this segment. I’m sure I did a couple times to manage the heat but I tried to keep the pedal down as much as I could. The thing I kept telling myself was that if there was an opportunity for me to run, then I needed to take it and even during those times I was walking, anywhere on the course, I tried to the best of my capability to not dip below a 15 min/mile pace. If I could maintain that pace as an average over the duration of the race then I thought there was a good chance I’d be able to finish.
After crossing the meadow, it really began to climb. The good part was most of the climb was on a gravel farm road. The bad part was that I going back and forth on every step between toeing (kicking) a rock and stepping on one, usually in the same exact spot on my heel! Neither of these felt good 175ish miles and 3 days into a race!
With about 2 miles to go to Pole Canyon Aid, I came across a woman who looked to be struggling. I announced myself so as to not startle her and had intentions of passing her but once side by side I knew she was having a hard time. I initiated a conversation, as most ultra-runners do when they come up on someone, in part to distract her but also to help encourage her. I assured her that we were within a couple of miles of the aid station and although she told me to go ahead, I did not. She may not have realized it but our conversation was helping me as much as it was her. So, we carried on, until one of the volunteers came out to meet us with about a half mile to go. It’s rare for a volunteer to leave the aid station and hike a ½ mile or so to greet runners but he had a bunch of information and had been tracking us. I think he actually knew my name and as matter of fact, he said, “oh, yeah! You’ve got a fan club waiting for you!” My initial reaction was to laugh but then I started thinking, oh boy, I’ve created a reputation and people actually know me, care, and are following me! Could be good or bad!?!? As the volunteer helped the girl a bit more I pulled away and got to the aid station. To my surprise, Bradford made it up there. With my car! I know it was a treacherous drive because I had done it in a 4x4 truck, which had its own struggles navigating the “road” and was sure something on my vehicle had broken…. if not on the way up, surely on the way down! In addition to Bradford, I saw a couple of friends. James is an amazing ultra-runner in his own right and had been part of the crew that helped course mark. Brian, I knew from volunteering together at the Tahoe200 in 2019 and was in Moab helping out as well. It was awesome to see them all!
The next segment is the toughest 16 miles on the entire course and I had helped course mark it so I knew how difficult it actually was! The thing that made it slightly easier was the energy and knowledge of the volunteers at the Aid Station. They’d probably been operating for about 2 days straight helping runners get in and out and up the mountain but you’d never guess how exhausted they must have been. The medics spoke with every runner, made sure they were physically and mentally prepared for the next stretch of climb. The other volunteers were busy making food and making sure we got at least a couple thousand calories prior to leaving and then packing us full of more calories for the trip. I ended up staying in the aid station for about 45 minutes or so which was a little longer than I felt like I needed to (at the time) but looking back it may have been what got me through it.
Every runner is different and the aggressiveness of the aid station may have been a little much for some to take but they were there to help and to make sure a rescue mission wasn’t needed overnight.
Pole Canyon to Geyser Pass:
Fed and rested, I was ready to make the climb from 8,491’ to 10,479’. Course marking had been done during the day so I got to see every inch of the trail in the heat of the day. Although there is a solid canopy of trees it was still hot. During the race, I was running the segment overnight and although the cooler temps were welcome, there was some thought it may dip down to freezing temps, which caused some concern because if someone was either lost or fell asleep, it wouldn’t take too long for hypothermia to set in. As I had done with previous segments, I got my mind right prior to leaving. Knowing it was going to be tough, I resolved to not let the course beat me. I was certainly respectful of it but at this point, I knew if I could get by this section, much of the remaining distance was downhill. I set my segment goal for time, and tried to stick to it. With it being a steep uphill climb for the first 3 miles or so, I knew keeping a pace of 15 min/miles wasn’t likely so I allowed myself to work for a 20 min/mile pace. At that pace I could expect to arrive at Geyser pass in about 5 – 6 hrs.
It was as tough as I thought it was going to be but at the same time, was a slightly easier time than I had course marking. I kept moving and limited my stops as best I could. Eventually, I caught up with a couple people, Will and Gabe who looked to be struggling a little bit. We stuck together for a good portion of the segment and I learned later on that I was able to help pull them along and keep their energy up. As a matter of fact, Will saved me a bit because one of my headlamp batteries went out and luckily, he had a spare that I could use. Since, I had course marked this section, I could give them some intel about specific landmarks and how our progress was going. Not only is this section difficult because of the terrain and altitude but it’s also free-range farm land that’s got a lot of cows wandering around. They like the taste of the plastic ribbons (dragons) and wooden clothes pins we use for course marking so it’s easy to get lost because the dragons we placed were eaten by the cows! Knowing the landmarks, helped keep us on track, although since it was dark, we used our GaiaGPS map as well.
At some point, I pulled away from Gabe and Will, pushed on, and finally arrived at Geyser Pass somewhere in the middle of the night. Still well ahead of the cutoff.
One of the more startling things happened to me at Geyser Pass while I was resting. It never took me long to fall into a deep sleep and I don’t remember having many dreams during these rests but I recall coughing and having trouble swallowing during one of my dreams at Geyser Pass. So much so that it startled me out of my sleep. I quickly realized I wasn’t dreaming at all but was in fact coughing and having trouble swallowing. I sent Bradford an urgent text, simply saying I need you. He came in a hurry and I told him what was wrong, I could talk ok but as a precaution he went to look for the medic. Turns out, Brian Wilcox, the medical director for the race was making rounds at the Aid Stations and was in his truck. Brian is an incredible guy and is always pleasant to be around so I was happy to hear he was there to take care of me but I also felt silly because it turns out that there really wasn’t anything wrong with me either! So, I woke him up for nothing…. I’ll apologize every time I see him! Brian came over, asked what was wrong and I told him. He mentioned that it wasn’t too big a deal and would likely go away in the near future. He did ask if I wanted to continue and with a sly smile, said, “I think I’ve got another 40 miles in me?!?!” We had a quick laugh and he was on his way to help the other runners. He’s one of the hardest workers I know and I have no doubt he had been awake for more than a couple of days tending to all the runners needs and managing the crew of medical volunteers. I feel bad for having woken him up for such an innocuous item! The cause of the swelling was likely due to altitude, exhaustion, and the dust from the parking lot. The ball thing at the back of my throat was a little swollen and felt weird whenever I swallowed, drank, or ate but it subsided later on as Bradford and I were on our way down the mountain.
My sleep was supposed to have been for 3 or so hours but with the coughing fit I couldn’t really fall back asleep. I had maybe slept for a 1 – 1.5 hrs. so at least I had some rest! Bradford and I decided it would be best to get some food and then hit the trail.
Geyser Pass to Porcupine Rim:
Bradford had talked along about pacing me and he had arranged to have another crew take my car back to the start/finish line in Moab. The plan was to have him pace me the final 40 miles or so to the finish. I knew he’d be able to handle the mileage because by this point it was going to be pretty slow. I had everything I needed to continue and while Bradford was scrambling around a little bit I headed out at a slow walk until he could catch up. I think he was excited and eager to get out there and see what I had been up to the last 3 days. On the other hand, I was excited to share some miles with him and have someone to chat with. We carried on and shared some stories over the next few miles.
Prior to leaving each aid station, Bradford would give me some intel about the next section of trail. Mostly the distance and then we’d figure out a goal time for me to be at the next aid station. The time would be both in terms of goal pace and time of day. Doing this allowed me to track a couple of different things to keep my mind occupied as well as give me something to shoot for. Since he was coming out with me, we hadn’t really had that talk so we did it on the way. For a 20-mile stretch at a 4-mph pace we settled on 1 pm, this seemed very doable because much of the trail was on some form of road and overall downhill. Along the way, we stopped a couple of times to either eat or as I recall to do some blister care and take in the vista we were presented with. On time, we stopped, unbeknownst to me, he was recording me and we got to talking about running. I carried on about how I don’t like running in a pretty hilarious video that has yet to be made public! It was a view of Moab in the distance but covered the entire valley and was gorgeous. The sun was up and it was getting hot, without much cover on the road leading down the mountain. We stole some shade where we could and did our best to manage the heat.
Bradford can be a talkative guy but there were moments I had to ask him to be quiet so I could focus on running for a period of time or distance. There comes a point in a 240-mile race when it takes every fiber of your being to keep your head down, and tell yourself to ignore the pain and discomfort in order to run. It’s funny how the smallest thing could distract you from such an easy task but it does. Whether it’s a pacer talking, a bird squawking, a stiff breeze, a thought, or stepping on a rock just the wrong way to snap you out of the fog of ultrarunning! It happened a couple times over the stretch but Bradford was great in respecting the time and space I needed in order to get the job done.
At around Mile 17, I decided I needed to push a little bit in order to get to the Aid Station so I put it in high gear to knock out the last 3 miles. Looking back, I’m curious about the things that motivated me along the way, and I’ve found it was pretty common for me to simply want to be done. The sooner I got to an aid station the more I could rest! By this point, it was wicked hot and my pack was heavy because since we’d left in the coolness of the overnight hours, I had to carry all the layers I’d been wearing earlier, so I was extra motivated to get to the aid station to shed some of the weight. I started pulling away from Bradford but rarely looked back to see how far he was because it would have slowed my momentum. Every now and then, instead of looking at my watch I’d ask him for an update on how far we had left. Typically, this is a recipe for disaster and is akin to clock watching. The more you look at your watch, the longer it takes to get to your destination! I was hoping for an update every ½ mile or so to help keep me pushing and believing we were getting closer. At around mile 20, I stopped because I didn’t recognize where we were. Looking back, Bradford was somewhere around ¼ to ½ mile behind me and the aid station was nowhere in sight. I knew what the aid station would look like because it was one of the areas, I had course marked from but I also knew I wasn’t anywhere close to it. We were both coming up on the time and distance goal we’d set at the start of the run so I was pretty anxious about arriving at our goal. Taking out my phone and looking at the GaiaGPS map, I learned that we were still 2 miles away from the aid station. The segment from Geyser Pass to Porcupine Rim was in fact, 22 miles, not the 20 Bradford had told me. Simply put, I was pissed. If I had the energy, we would have had some words but I didn’t have the energy so I put the phone away, took a deep breath and carried on. It’s a story we can laugh about now but, in the moment, 2 extra miles might as well have been 200! I was devastated, mentally. Due to the heat, I wasn’t sure what the extra mileage was going to do to me or how it would affect the cutoff time and my ability to finish the race. Again, I pulled away from Bradford to get the next two miles done as quickly as I possibly could.
As I came into the Aid Station at around 1:30, I told myself I’d leave at or by 2 pm. The volunteers were great and offered to refill my water and provide whatever food and snacks they had remaining. A crew member from another team, Yuki was there waiting for her runner, Helgi. Helgi’s crew, had been a great resource for Bradford and helped out in several ways. They’d gotten to know each other over the several days that Helgi and I had been on course. So, when Yuki saw me, she asked where Bradford was, still pissed, I said I don’t know, he’s back there somewhere and carried on taking care of my own nutrition, water, and snack needs. A few minutes later, Bradford came into the aid station and almost immediately saw the medic, he was having some issues with blisters and some heat rash. The medic took his vitals and covered him in blankets because he was cold and had some chills. At this point, I was vacillating between pissed and concerned. It must have been close to 90 degrees out and here’s Bradford sitting under wool blankets to keep warm!
We laughed a little bit, mostly that he’d run 22 miles and had more blisters than I had in over 200! The other thing I found funny was that Yuki and Helgi’s crew seemed to be at the race to crew for Bradford, which is an odd thing for a crew to have their own crew!!!!
After some rest and food, I kept it moving and was out of the Porcupine Rim aid station by 2 pm.
Porcupine Rim to Finish:
Knowing Bradford was in good hands, I carried on. Soon after leaving I made my goal for the segment and to get to the finish, I decided again on a 15 min/mile pace at the slowest but was working for better than that. I also was looking to finish before sunset but knew I’d be close. It was about 16 miles, the last 3 on pavement so I kept telling myself to get to mile 13 then I could cruise. Leaving the aid station at 2 I was looking for a 4-5 hr. run to the finish. The majority of this segment is downhill but it’s very technical and difficult to run because of all the rocks. This part of the trail is a smaller section of a very well-known and well used mountain biking trail. I’d be happy in the future to leave it to the mountain bikers! The sun was hot from above and also hot from below as it reflected off the rocks and sand. There wasn’t much shade but where I saw some, I took advantage to grab a snack. Like I’d done earlier in the race, I tried to manage my heart rate and level of exertion when it was really hot out. It helped previously but here it was taking so much time because I found myself stopping quite often. As I stopped more and more, I realized that I wasn’t going to make my goal of sunset so I resolved to finish as soon as possible. Keeping in mind the race cutoff was either 9 or 10, I wasn’t sure because the official race start was 7 am but I had started at 6 am. Not knowing if the race cutoff had been extended or kept the same, all I could do was to keep moving forward!
I kept at it, and tried to enjoy the what I could see and even spent quite a bit of time reflecting on what I’d done the previous 4 days. To this day, I still can’t quite grasp or explain in justifiable terms the experience.
Towards the end of the trail portion, I could swear that I could hear music coming from somewhere, and thought someone must be camping close by. It was mostly Jimmy Buffett, Cheeseburger in Paradise and some Neil Young but the songs were on repeat and I’d stop, look around, see nothing, but continue to hear the faint music! Oh well, carry on! At one point, as I was dropping into the canyon towards the Colorado River, I heard someone yelling for me. About the same time, I was questioning whether I was on the correct trail because I thought I should have been a little lower down than I was. I turned around to see who was yelling at me but didn’t see anyone, then I look forward and notice a guy on a rock outcropping yelling and waving for me. I couldn’t really make out who it was but I kept going on the trail I was on. As I got closer, I realized it was the race photographer, Scott Rokis. He was perched on a great spot, getting runners as they were coming down the canyon. Luckily, I was there around sunset and he was able to capture some stunning pics! As a side note, Howie Stern also got some amazing snapshots. I’ve gotten to know these guys over a couple of years and am constantly blown away by their photos. The way they capture the runners and landscape is amazing!
After a quick word with Scott and an apology for my sister stalking him and asking for pictures I moved along. I had course marked from Porcupine Rim down to the paved area leading to the finish but in the dark, I found it difficult to navigate and frustrating because like earlier in the race, the trail follows the contour of the terrain so you go in and out and in and out of these little slot canyons for what seems like days! Finally, I arrive at the pavement. Not wanting to stop to rearrange my pack I started moving at a clip and hoping that every corner I turn I’ll see the bright lights of Moab. However, as I wound my way along the Colorado, there never appeared to be any lights! The final 3 miles were the longest of the race.
I was 237 miles into the race, had a jacket flopping all over the place, was holding my poles, one of which had broken and was about half the length that it started out at. I’m not sure when it broke initially but I think it was around 110 miles or so. I only realized it at 220+ though when all of a sudden, I noticed that when I was planting my pole, my hand would fall significantly lower than the other. I quickly looked and noticed that the rock had been chipping away the end of my pole little by little until one pole was the proper 4’ long while the other was now about 2 ½ feet long! So here I am running along the Colorado, jacket flapping, poles flailing, me getting emotional, no end in sight, out of breath, hair flopping around!!! I passed a couple of people and can’t imagine what they must have been thinking about the hot and smelly mess I was!
Finally, I get to the bright lights and the bridge. As I was going up the pathway and over the under-construction sidewalk, I thought to myself, I don’t remember this crushed stone here! Was it here yesterday when I was starting the race and running the other direction?!?!? Totally confused, it took me several minutes to recall that it was in fact 4+ days ago that I’d been running the other direction!
I spent much of the last 3 miles thinking about what profound sentence I’d blurt out at the end to capture the essence of what I’d done as well as the other runners who’d cross the finish line but, in the end, I had nothing. I recall having three bullet points that I’d tell anyone that would listen but as soon as I crossed the finish line, I completely forgot! Coming down the RV Park driveway, the only thing I was concerned with was not tripping over the hump in the road.
I finished and was overcome with an idea of what to do next! I literally, did not know what to say or do in the short term or long term. I was curious about everything that was going on in the world over the previous four and half days and had all of a sudden realized how disconnected I was from the world and everyone around me. I’ve got to admit too that it was a great feeling to be so disconnected. My sole focus over those days in the desert was trying to figure out how, when, and what I needed to do to get to the next aid station. To a greater extent it was less about me figuring those things out and more about listening to Bradford and my coach Kristen about how, when, and what I needed to do to get to the next aid station. At some point, my mind went to autopilot and I relied on Bradford to tell me what to do and eat until I could regain some sense of self determination at which point Bradford and I worked together to develop a plan.
All I can say is that the volunteers were great. The RD’s were great. The race experience is one for the record books.
