Vermont 100 Race Report

Where do I start? Do I start with the race, or the past couple months leading up to it? I've been so busy driving across the country, working, teaching and running that the pre-race post I had intended to write never happened. I'm afraid if I try to incorporate that here that I'd have a novella. For brevity's sake, though this is sure to be far from brief, I'll just start a couple week's out from the race.

morning commute to Burlington

Since finishing my last contract in the Adirondacks, I've been staying with friends at their amazing home in Bristol, Vermont. In the hope of allowing my body time to rest leading up to the race, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to simply sleep more, I set for myself a rigorous schedule of reading, writing, and movie watching. While also trying to fill my head with plenty of good music to recall during the race, I listened to many hours of KEXP. A popular local hike called 'The Ledges' provided me with easy access to some hill conditioning. And once a week I would run-commute into Burlington along the back roads, a perfect 32ish mile, hilly run. My feet felt good, my legs felt good, my whole self felt really good, and I was ready to race!
I spent the week leading up to the race trying to take care of all the last minute details. I kept looking at the aid station list (so many!) and trying to decide here I would leave drop bags and what I would put in them. I also focused on my eating and gradually reducing my fiber intake as the week went along, as this strategy has been working well for me in past races. While putting together my drop bags, I thought of Jamil and Schuyler of Mountain Outpost, and I tried to keep things as minimal as possible. Unfortunately, food allergies do sometimes make it tricky to refuel sufficiently only from aid station food, so drop bags do make my life easier. That being said, I always eat significantly less than I anticipate. However, I always take my drop bags home after the race!

Drop bag prep

When race weekend did finally roll around, I was excited to head down to Woodstock, Vermont to embark on a new adventure. The Element was packed and ready to roll, full of drop bags, my tent, shoes, clothes, water, the works. I left Bristol to head to Silver Hill and the race headquarters much earlier than I needed to because...I was awake! I stopped in Woodstock to grab some coffee and waste some time, as it was only 9am and check-in didn't start until 10am. I wandered into the Yankee Bookshop and picked up the most recent book by William Gibson to read later in the day as I waited for all things race oriented to begin. A small curio shop called Unicorn was calling my name, and once they opened I wandered around and found a new game called Story Cubes that is sure to provides some family fun time in the future. The minutes slowly moved around the clock face and finally it was time for me to head to Silver Hill.
As I was driving along I noticed some yellow plates attached to trees and knew I'd be running those routes over the weekend, my excitement growing! I headed towards the giant tents set-up for registration and found a goofy grin plastered on my face. To say that my stoke-tank was full would be a gross understatement. There were only a few dozen runners there, as it was early in the day, and no lines to speak of. As soon as I walked in the tent I heard 'Scout? Is that Scout?' an there was a smiling Amy Rusiecki, the Race Director, whom I had not yet met face to face. She said she recognized me from some of my pictures and welcomed me to the race. She knew that the final bits of fundraising had been a bit stressful for me to meet the minimum requirements, and she was glad I had made it. This interaction was one of many that I had with Amy that made this race so incredibly personal. I can't sing her praises enough.

Pretty empty tent, early in the day...

The first to put any drop bags in the pile...

Base Camp, my tent in the background

A couple hours later and the drop bag piles have grown!

More racers getting ready

Amy at the pre-race briefing

I moved along to the runner check-in to get my race number and other goodies. The volunteers there gave me special high-fives , hurrah's and thank-you's for being a charity runner. It felt pretty amazing. All the charity runners were given bib numbers that reflected our 'rank' in how much money we had raised. I was the 16th highest fundraiser, so my race number was sweet old 16, which made me feel like an elite, pretty darn cool. Next I checked in with the medical volunteers and then I went to set up my tent. Because I was early I was able to set my tent up right across the brook from my car, which was really nice both pre and post race. A large group of folks from New Hampshire called Six 03 sports set up a mini tent village next to me, and that was fun to be close to. Lots of great energy.
Tent and vehicle organized, I headed back to the main event tents to deposit my drop bags and was happily surprised to run into Wayne and Patricia Coates, some TTR friends. They were both there to run the 100K, Wayne already in possession of his Vermont 500 mile buckle! We chatted for a bit and I never did see them for the rest of the weekend, but I hope they had a great time! I then went back to the Element, tailgate down, and laid in the back reading my new book 'The Peripheral,' waiting for the 4pm runners briefing.
Here's the thing about ultra races- they all have their own individual character about them. This is partly due to the participants, but largely reflective of the Race Directors and their crew of volunteers. Much like the Vermont 50, the Vermont 100 has extraordinary character. The runners briefing was a time not just for a breakdown of the rules and expectations, but a chance to recognize veteran runners, newbies, Grand Slammers, charity runners (that was me!) and families whose lives are enriched by the services provided by VASS. It felt like a reunion in that tent, and I didn't even know most everyone. Stoke tanks fuilled once again, I went back to my basecamp, opting out of the pre-race dinner and sticking with the food I'd brought for myself. I read more of my book to try and get my eyes tired in the hopes of being able to fall asleep without issue. The race has a 4am start, with check-in starting at 3am, so I had hoped to fall asleep early.
Miraculously, I fell asleep sometime around 10pm and slept like a rock until about 2:45! Apparently my subconcious was feeling solid about my training, because I think that is the best I've ever slept before a race. The morning was cool, but not cold, and you could hear zippers of tents and rustling about, cars driving up the road for those that didn't stay on site, horses neighing and whinnying in the pre-dawn. I got dressed, liberally applied my Squirrel's Nut Butter to all the necessary places and headed over to check-in. Under the main tent the air was pulsating with excitement and anticipation, runners sipping coffee and munching on bagels, the always too-long line at the port-a-johns, the pre-race chatter about target paces and finsih times, the 'have you done this before' or 'oh, you're from where? Have you run such and such race?' We're such a funny bunch. Often the only commonality we share being our love of running far, but for most of us, that's enough. As I got closer to the port-a-johns in the dark of the pre-dawn, a headlamp approached me, 'Scout, right? I met you last year when you were volunteering and at the VT50.' Me- 'Remind me of your name? Riley, right! Have a great race!' Then I ran into Amy, the RD, who gave me a huge smile and wished me luck. I love this group of weirdos.

Almost 4am, lining up for the start. I shuffled in towards the back, not wanting to get sucked into a pace much more than a 10min mile at the beginning. Headlamp on, wearing my DapperBoi snapback to represent Vicky and Charisse and their awesome company and their support in my fundraising, number 16 pinned to my right thigh. I was ready to go. Countdown starting at 10, many heads down and fingers poised to start GPS watches, 3, 2, 1...cheers went up into the dark early morning, and we were off!
The first few miles were smooth, the pack gradually thinned itself out and I got into a good rhythm. Somewhere around 9 or 10 miles I started to feel a little hot spot on both of my big toes, which was odd, and because I'm stubborn, I just kept moving. I told myself that I'd investigate at the Pretty House Aid Station, around mile 21, since that was the first spot that had crew access, so other folks might take extra time there. This decision would later prove to be a mistake, one that I'm still recovering from. By the time I got to Pretty House the hotspots were blisters, which I took the time to tape, but my toes were not happy. I tried not to adjust my gait too much, as it was far too early in the race to be making that sort of compensation, but small modificatinos were more or less unavoidable.
As is generally the case with most ultras, I just kept moving. I snacked when hungry, drank water from my hydration pack and nuun water from my handheld and kept trucking along. Somewhere in there I met Jenny, from New Hampshire. We shuffled and walked and power hiked together for a while. She is a teacher and we talked about the joys and challenges of working in the fields of youth development and the importance of having hope for the future. I'm not sure how many miles we shares, at one point I pulled ahead and later on she leap frogged past me as my feet started causing me more issue. I really enjoyed our time together on the trail.

One of the cool covered bridges we ran across

I thought this tree was super cool

Aside from my toes, I was feeling good and looking forward to being able to change my shoes at Camp 10 Bear, where my back up pair was waiting for me in my drop bag. Just after passing through the Stage Rd. aid station around mile 30, and accessing my first drop bag, I also got water, nourishment, encouragement and smiles from the aid station volunteers. About half a mile later, I was lucky enough to get stung on my right ankle by a couple of bees, which motivated me to move just a bit faster up that grassy hill. Thankfully, bee stings are something I'm NOT allergic to! The itch became annoying at times, but it didn't end my race, which for me was all that mattered.

I also thought this busted up barn was rad, think
I may draw turn this into a drawing

My legs and feet moved, the miles continued to add up, and I kept getting closer to Camp 10 Bear. At Pretty House I had made the decision to stop the GPS tracker on my watch, as it really wasn't necessary, and to preserve the battery. I wasn't really trying to stay on a specific pace, all I really needed to know from time to time was, what mile was I at- which was marked at each aid station, and what time was it, which my watch told me! Magic. This way I knew where I was in relation to the time cut-offs and whether or not I needed to pick up my pace. Eventually I came to the aid station before Camp 10 Bear and I swear I heard an audible sigh of relief from my feet, knowing there was a different pair of shoes waiting for me there!
One of the fun things about running ultras, but particularly in running without a crew, is you begin to recognize the support crews of people who are running a similar pace to you. There was a big group from Birmingham, AL supporting three or four runners, and I just have to say that that crew was AWESOME! Any time I saw them I knew I was less than a mile form the next aid station, and it was fun to hear their enthusiastic hoots and hollers in the distance behind me when they first set eyes on their runner. Y'all were fantastic, your high fives were appreciated, and your hats were clutch.

trails...and a CONFIDENCE
marker on a tree in the
distance!

Camp 10 Bear!!! I made it! The fabulous volunteers found my drop bag. I got to work changing socks, re-taping my feet and switching shoes. I drank one of my Orgain shakes, shoved some more snack in my pack, refilled my hydration bladder and water bottle and kept moving. Although it felt like that stop took a lot of time, I think all said and told it was pry somewhere between 5-8minutes of downtime. I quickly said hullo and goodbye to Mike Silverman and got a high five. He's the captain of Camp 10 Bear and a kindred spirit in our shared friendship with Chad Denning, an extraordinary human and runner who this world lost too soon.
The field in the back-end of the race, where I was, had certainly thinned out quite a bit. Much of my time was spent running solo, occasionally a person just ahead or just behind me. This aspect of ultras always reminds me of a drawn out version of leapfrog, one of my favorite playground games as a kid. One runner I played leapfrog with for the last 55+ miles or so I didn't officially meet until the end of the race, Chihping Fu, you are incredible! And it was fun to share those miles with you.
Something folks should know about the area of Vermont that is the home of the Vermont 100: it is not flat. Honestly, of all the random back roads we ran on, I would love to know what percentage of them ended with the word 'hill'. I lost count. My primary focus in approaching all of these hills was to power hike them and maintain a strong and quick cadence. The way my brain decided to make this happen was by having the song 'Pump up the Jam' by Technotronic on a constant loop as I made my up each hill. The joys of growing up in the '80's! Still, it seemed to work well. I was focused on being stoked about my ability to move uphill well and trying not to get too frustrated with my inability to take advantage of the downhills. My big toes were trashed and it was really starting to slow me down.
Are you, dear reader, getting to a place where you're thinking 'my goodness, this is a long winded race report, Scout.'? I offer you this: it was a long race, and I'm doing my best to keep it brief, while still highlighting the moments that I told myself during the race, 'Oh, I want to remember this and put it in my write-up.' I'll admit, I get a bit self-conscious about it at times, but as much as I hope there are people out there reading this and enjoying the goofy things I recall, or learning from my mistakes, this is also a tool for me to remember this extraordinary journey and to know how to run even better the next time.
Back to the race...
The daylight was starting to fade, but my energy levels were good. With the exception of the trouble my feet were causing me, I was moving well and having a lovely time. Along the course they occasionally posted 'confidence' markers, and every time I saw one of those yellow 'C' plates, I smiles. When I reached the more than halfway point sign that read 'Mile 50.2, 49.8 to go' my stoke tank went through the roof.

LOVE this sign.

I had more than 50% of the course behind me! That meant only 5 more 10mile runs! The aid stations came and went. My feet kept moving, my brain created song mash-ups as the lyrics or melody from one bled into another. Hills were reserved for 'Pump up the Jam'. The Margaritaville aid station was as great as I'd remembered it being at the Vermont 50. I fueled up, refilled water and kept moving. The sun was truly starting to set, it would be headlamp time again soon, and the glow sticks would become my confidence markers as I made my way along the course.

the back road beauty of Vermont

Caught the moon as the sun
was setting

My second visit to Camp 10 Bear was brief, with more smiles and high fives from Mike. More snacks into my pack and off into the dark. Many runners picked up pacers at this point, so there was more chatting happening along the trail as I continued to power hike and shuffle my way closer to the finish. As I was getting nearer to the Spirit of '76 aid station a formidable lightning storm was building up some 10-15 miles away. I had no idea if I would be running towards it or away from it. Much of the course was very wooded/well covered, but there were also some stretches of open fields, which I was not super keen to run through amidst lightning. Still, the rain had yet to fall, for which I was grateful. Shortly after the Spirit of '76, things shifted. The lightning got closer, lighting up the sky. Sprinkles turned into drops, getting wet was unavoidable, so I kept moving. I made my way towards Cow Shed aid station, where I had volunteered last year, and was excited to see some familiar faces and maybe get some hot veggie broth. Somewhere along my way to Cow Shed I think I may have done a minute or two of sleep-running. It's hard to say. All I know is that a runner and her pacer were ahead of me, their lights visible...and then they weren't...but they were at Cow Shed when I got there. Who knows, but I'm pretty sure I was sleep running.
Struck out on the hot veggie broth at Cow Shed, but got some good encouragement from Teresa and her crew. Refilled my handheld and kept moving. About 200 yards down the road from Cow Shed, the sky opened up. It was pouring!! My glasses got so fogged up I had to take them off, which didn't help in the ability to see department. The lightning was also increasing in its intensity, and getting closer to my proximity. The course was coming up to a turn, and I had no idea if the next section was open or wooded. I got to the juncture and a giant flash of lightning, quickly followed by a booming crack, lit up the road and showed a pretty open stretch. So, I crouched to the side of the road under some smaller trees and waited for the lightning to decrease. A few folks passed me with their pacers and asked if I was okay. I imagine I looked a little crazy crouched there on the side of the road, but having spent much of my adult life teaching things like wilderness safety and lightning preparedness, I thought it best to wait it out. Ultimately, this cost me about a half hour, which bummed me out a bit, but I didn't get struck by lightning, so I consider that a win.
The rain ebbed and flowed. Sometimes stopping completely, then sprinkling, then deluge. My feet were soaked! When I made it to Bill's aid station around mile 88, the time I had lost waiting out the lightning was starting to stress me out a bit and I knew I needed to move. Aside from my feet being soaked, they were also TOAST and it was getting harder to move with any real efficiency, specifically on the downhills. The good folks at Bill's provided me with a fancy black garbage bag to put over my soaked self and keep me from getting too chilled in the pre-dawn air. The sun was just starting to rise and I was determined to get to the finish before the final cut-off.
I wasted no time. Most of the remaining aid stations I just moved through, only stopping to fill my handheld if necessary. I would be cutting things much closer than I had wanted to, but I was going to complete this race. There would be no excuses 'oh yeah, the rain really got me, but there's always next year.' Nope. I had worked too hard to not succeed with less than 12 miles to go, then less than 10...people had donated to VASS because they believed I could do this race, and today I refused to let anyone, myself included, down.
My legs kept moving, the miles added up. The games of leap frog continued. With every person I passed I wished them luck to the end, with every person who passed me I cheered for them, knowing they would make it! I hit the final miles and could hear people cheering others ahead of me into the finish. I found Chihping again, still pushing through , and encouraged him to the finish. It was only in this final mile that we formally introduced ourselves, giving names to the bodies that had been moving along similar paths for nearly 100 miles. And then, I saw it, I heard it, the finish line!! I made it, in 29:13:50. And my race concluded with a giant smile from Amy, the RD. I reached out to shake her hand, and thank her for a great race. She refused my handshake and gave me a huge hug and her very sincere congratulations. This is one of the many reasons why I do these races. This is a community, a family, and even with destroyed feet, so sleep and utterly exhausted, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Done!

I earned these ugly feet,
and this awesome SOLO division
mug, and the finisher shorts
stuffed inside! 

My first official hundo in the books...while my impromptu one's count in my book, this one is for really real. I've got the buckle and the finisher's shorts to prove it, and it feels spectacular. I participated as a charity runner, which I know some folks in the ultra community frown upon, but I could not have been more proud as I crossed that finish line, knowing I'd raised just over $1000 for Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports. (In total, over $80,000 were raised this year!!) VASS helps create avenues of accessibility to a variety of sports for folks with any number of physical or mental hurdles. Sports have been an integral part of my life and my personal development, and I really value organizations like VASS that help to get more people out there, creating their own adventures in sport! (Okay, stepping off of my soapbox)

That about sums it up. I passed out in the back of the Element for about 40 minutes before changing and shuffling over to the awards lunch, where I mostly sat in my chair trying to stay awake and clapping for all of the incredible runners who had embarked on this journey a day earlier and found themselves on the other side. I got my finisher's buckle, and shorts, and Solo Division runner's mug. Stoke tank still overflowing.
To Amy Rusiecki, to all the volunteers, to all the folks who donated to my fundraising campaign, to all the land owners who let this race happen: THANK YOU doesn't begin to cover it. My sincerest gratitude is yours, and I look forward to seeing y'all out there again!

Proper post race celebration,
waited a couple days so I could
truly enjoy this brew I'd been
holding on to from Dark Sky Brewing
in Flagstaff, AZ

Earned this sweet buckle...maybe the
next one will be a bigger
Sub-24hr??
A kid can dream!

My still recovering feet a couple days post race...
might be losing those big toenails, still tbd.

Some music that was in my head along the way...

case/lang/veirs- Best Kept Secret

Local Natives-Past Lives

Talking Heads- Nothing but Flowers

Siouxsie and the Banshees- Dear Prudence

And of course, Technotronic- Pump up the Jam

#VT100 #ultrarunning #exploreforChad #ZeroLimits

Adrenaline Night Runs: A night in the desert with the Moon and Jupiter

A night in the desert with the Moon and Jupiter

Three weeks after the Zane Grey 50, I found myself back in Arizona following a visit with my parents to our (large) extended family in Alabama. The day we got back to Arizona was also the day that online registration was closing for an Aravaipa night run, Adrenaline- part of their Insomniac Night Series. So, to celebrate my return to the arid desert from the muggy embrace of the south, I signed up for the 54k race. I was determined to have a successful race under my belt before I started my journey back to the Northeast.

Before I get to the race report, I want to give a little space to my running experience down south. As I mentioned, post Zane Grey my folks and I drove out to Alabama, and I quickly found some country roads to run on. As easy as it would have been to use the combination of family and work time as excuses to take a break from running, I just couldn’t. Aside from wanting and needing to continue training for the Vermont 100, I knew that utilizing the meditative piece of running was going to be critical to my enjoyment of our visit. Running for me encompasses so much; it is a release, it is a reward, it is a challenge, it is a friend. My uncle who we were staying with showed me the dirt access road that started just beyond their backyard, and informed me that it was about half a mile long. For me, that begged the question, what was beyond the gate where that road ended? I took a look at google maps to get my bearings, proposed a potential route in my head, and ran out into the soggy, humid arms of the Alabama afternoon. The dirt road was great, with some mild up and downs, and then I reached the gate, which I climbed over and started out on a paved road. As I ran along it and up the hill, I passed a house with a large Auburn flag and a bunch of people on the front porch, who yelled ‘Hey, yeah, War Eagle runner!’ as I went past. At this I had to laugh, thinking initially ‘How did they know I was an Auburn fan?’ and then laughing as I realized I was wearing blue shorts and an orange shirt...Auburn colors. Well, hell yeah, War Damn Eagle! This made me smile and I was thus far quite satisfied with my route. As I crested the hill and started a mild descent, I was even more stoked to discover that the pavement dissolved into well packed dirt and gravel. Yes. My little trail running heart was so happy.

packed red dirt roads 

As I ran along the country roads, some dogs barked, but none chased. The trees provided shade, and it was beautiful. At one point the wind carried a large whiff of the paper mill, causing my olfactory system to quickly conjure up so many summertime childhood memories from visits down south. I watched patches of kudzu wind around yellow pine and anything else around it.

Alabama sunset

I listened to the subtle sound of moving water as a brook ran under the road. I got into a good rhythm, was happy to find that my route was full of many ups and downs and not just flat. After about 3.5miles I made it out to the Old Prattville Rd, and turned around to come back the same way on the (mostly) dirt roads. Feeling satisfied and very happy to have already figured out a good running route on our first day there, I watched the sky go from blue to soft oranges and pinks. This would be my escape route nearly every day that we were out there. An escape from my work duties, from social time, from sitting down...it was glorious, and I’m extremely grateful that is was waiting for me just beyond my uncle’s back porch. Also, the family visit was great, and it was really nice to see some kin that I hadn't seen in over two decades.

After about two weeks away, we returned to Arizona, making the whole drive in just two long days. Looking at my calendar and trying to figure out when my drive across the country to the Northeast was going to have to start and devising some route options, I decided to look on Aravaipa’s website to see if they had any of their night races happening before I hit the road. To my delight, they did! The Adrenaline night runs had distance options of 10km, 27km, or 54km. I chose the 54km, and got myself registered. This felt like something that I not just wanted, but needed to do. Getting in my longer runs while out in the desert has been a bit more challenging logistically, simply in the sense of needing to plan ahead with water drops and things like that. I'd gotten a couple runs in out at Estrella, but neither had been much more than 10miles.

Warm morning runs out in Estrella Mountain Park

Having aid stations and water available that I didn’t have to plan was awesome, and having time cut-offs gave me motivation to keep my pace up. The race itself was out in the McDowell Mountain Park, home of the Javelina Jundred, Pemberton 50k, and other races. I was looking forward to exploring some new trails in the park and also running some familiar ones.

The Race Report:

The day of the race was pretty warm, with a high around 99degrees, but the forecast had predicted that it would cool down to the mid-60’s with some wind/breeze. There were a few clouds lingering in the sky, but not too many. I was looking forward to seeing the Moon and Jupiter as they made their way across the sky during the night, so I was glad that they wouldn’t be obscured by clouds. The 54km start was at 7pm, which meant we’d be running into the sunset and through the night. By the time we were lining up and getting ready to start, there was a pretty good breeze and it already felt much cooler, probably somewhere in the 80s. The 54k race consisted of 2 loops, each to be run twice. The first loop (the blue loop) was a 10k, the second loop (the yellow loop) was 10miles. I wasn’t sure how many people would be running the 54k, there were plenty of people milling about waiting for the staggered starts of the two shorter distances, but our motley crew of ultrarunners felt pretty small, which was kind of nice. (Truly it was a pretty small field, with 39 starters) I knew this would be a pretty runnable course, but I also knew that I wanted to keep a relatively slow and steady pace. My primary goal was to finish under 8hours. Not particularly ambitious, I know, but honestly, I’ve been wanting more time on my feet, on trails, so going a bit slower and maxing that out wasn’t a problem.

A gorgeous end to the day out in McDowell Mountain Regional Park

Almost ready to start!

7:00pm and the race started, we made our way out of the start/finish staging area and out towards Scenic trail. After about a mile of relatively flat we started the first/main climb of the course and my legs felt great. Again, knowing I wouldn’t be setting any course records, I took the time to snap a few pictures here and there, as the sun was making its way out of the sky and changing the colors of the horizon. The leaders were gone and away, and I found myself running around and behind a handful of guys, like a quail train, making our way up and down and over rocks. Near the top of Scenic, there’s a great vantage point and a bench with a dedication plaque on it.

pretty fantastic way to be remembered.

Just know, dear universe, if anyone wants to honor my life once I’m gone, this is how I’d like to be remembered, as a bench or a sitting rock in a beautiful spot, inviting folks to slow down and take the time to enjoy everything that we have around us. Not long after the bench some runners ahead of me had slowed down and some even stopped. It turned out there was a diamondback on the edge of the trail, so we each waited for those behind us to be close enough to pass along the warning. The snake was stretched out and pretty still, probably curious as to why we were running around and disturbing its sunset warming hour, but it wasn’t coiled, warning with a rattle or otherwise noticeably perturbed, and for that I was grateful.

The squiggly line by the bush is our reptilian
 friend, hanging out for the meet and greet.

Making my way down the trail the sunset was incredible. The desert rarely disappoints, and I found myself smiling and letting my arms fly out like wings as a crow flew above me, playing on the vents, showing that I could play too as the breeze wrapped around me and my feet found their way among the rocks and dirt.

sunset approaching

As the sun set and the dusk settled in I continued to run without my headlamp, encouraging my eyes to get ready for the approaching dark, and just loving running through the cooling desert.

The quail train (of runners) moving away from me

With a mile or so to go before reaching the start/finish area for my first loop I finally turned on my headlamp. Soon enough I was running towards a very large group of headlamps as the 10k runners got on their way. It was fun to run through such a large group, and to cheer them on. Then I made it to the staging area, 1 of 4 loops done. I refilled my waters, drank half of my protein shake I’d brought with me, and headed out for loop two.

Now it was officially dark, the quail train that I had been running with had since moved on, and I didn’t worry about it. I just planned to keep my pace, slow and steady, and to not make any stupid mistakes. With my headlamp on I seemed to be having more trouble than usual getting comfortable in the light, and my depth perception felt really off. This was definitely slowing me down more than I wanted, but I just tried to shake it off and keep moving. When I got to downhill sections that I felt were even smoother and more runnable than pieces of the 10k loop, I was still having trouble seeing well enough to confidently move with any speed. This was starting to bum me out, but I just tried to shake it off and keep moving. Once I got to the aid station about halfway through the 10mile loop I stopped to fill my water again and ate a potato in salt. I didn’t waste much time there and kept moving. Within a few yards of leaving the aid station, my eyes finally seemed to have gotten in the game, and I was able to move with a little more speed for the last 5miles of the loop, which was a huge relief. As I got closer to the end of the loop, the courses converged again and I was running around both 10k and 27k runners and 54k runners heading back out for their remaining loops. Headlamps reduced faces to bright shiny orbs moving atop semi-invisible bodies. I told people ‘nice job, and good work’ and other things you say to folks you don’t necessarily know but feel happy to share a community with.

Both loops under my belt, I made my way through the start/finish checkpoint, ready to refill waters, finish that protein shake, and eat another potato in salt or two. Also, having realized about 2 miles into the race that I’d forgotten my trail gaiters, I also took the time on this aid visit to empty the tiny rocks from both of my shoes. As I headed back out for my second round with the 10k loop, a runner coming in informed me that there was a diamondback about a tenth of a mile up the trail. Someone who was not running the race was there, with a light on the snake, and this one was not as chill as the first. This snake was actively irritated, moving, considering coiling, and rattling steadily. I quickly moved past it, and continued to share encouraging words with the runners coming in towards the start/finish area. Being that it was dark, and I had no way of knowing if folks were in the middle of their race or nearing the end of it, I just kept it simple with ‘good jobs’ and such. As I said ‘Hey, nice work!’ to a headlamp moving towards me, the body encapsulated by the glowing orb said ‘Knuckles!’ and fortunately my brain registered before it was too late, and we gave each other a pound as we moved in opposite directions on the trail. To whomever this runner was, I want you to know, this totally made my night. My night vision finally seemed to have kicked in, and for this I was grateful. I was certainly slower on the climbs this second time around, but in general I felt I was moving well. I kept taking chances at looking up into the night sky to see the stars and the Moon and Jupiter. The thing is, the Moon and Jupiter were in conjunction with one another, and I’m just a super geek for that sort of thing. It’s like they are traveling across the sky together, on their own little ultra, having moments of quiet and long conversations throughout the night. Although it was a waxing gibbous moon, it was still quite bright, and Jupiter sparkled just 1*54’ minutes away. It certainly would have been a lovely night to stare up through a telescope, but alas, I was running! The third loop went smoothly. I saw no more snakes, but I did see a tarantula, many heteromyids- kangaroo rats and pocket mice, flitting across the trail and either intrigued, confused, or disturbed by my headlamp. I also saw a jackrabbit, 2 millipedes, a very large scorpion, and a very tiny baby snake (no more than 2inches long). I heard something run along the side of the trail and below me, as my headlamp swiveled with my head to investigate I saw two glowing eyes about 100yards away, probably a coyote. Still, in the unlikely event that it were a mountain lion, I entertained myself for the next half a mile or so waving my arms about and making myself appear larger than life (and perhaps a bit crazy) to discourage any chance of predation. I heard an owl and saw its shadow by a large saguaro, but truthfully didn’t see it clearly in any way. This is just part of the ‘why’ I love this sport. And amidst all this enjoyment, stargazing, and wildlife observation, I found myself nearing the end of my third loop. I was moving slowly, but steadily, and felt pretty good.

The final loop!! After refilling with Ice Water (so cold, so delicious, so appreciated, its in the details folks) I headed out for my final loop. I was hoping that my seemingly improved night vision would not be completely negated by my moderately fatigued legs. I felt like I was moving well, and the miles continued to pass. The night was pretty quiet, but the breeze kept it from being too still. I surprised myself when I was in view of the aid station, marking the halfway point of the loop and meaning I only had five or six miles to go. My stomach had been feeling a bit off for the last couple miles, but I wasn’t letting it get to me, and I certainly was not to the point of puking, which was great. When I reached the aid station I chatted with the folks there for a bit, we talked about the weather, how it was so much cooler than it had been at the start, and how I don’t feel like people in Vermont, where I’m currently living, get the extreme difference between our highs and lows out here in the desert. This launched into a random tangent about how cold it gets there, frozen blood (which I’ve already written about in a previous post and am apparently a bit fascinated by) and other things. I had eaten some candied ginger in the hopes of getting my stomach to settle for the last stretch, and was just about to leave the aid station...when their generator went out. The three volunteers who were there were awesome, but they didn’t have a headlamp, so I loaned them mine so that they could refill the generator and get the lights back on, both for themselves and the handful of runners who were still behind me. This added more time to my break, but it wasn’t like I was going to win this race, so what was an extra 3-5minutes? I think it was worth it. The generator successfully refilled with fuel, my headlamp returned, I headed out for the last bit of my race, happy and moving pretty well. The Moon and Jupiter were starting to set at this point, and it was plastering the goofiest of grins on my face. Perhaps this fascination with the beauty of the Moon and Jupiter has all been amplified by the fact that I’m reading Simon Singh’s book ‘Big Bang’ right now and the section I’m reading is currently talking of the magic, inspiration and innovation that went into the creation of some of the first large telescopes of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. That, or it’s just the fact that I remember watching Haley’s comet streak across the desert sky through a telescope as a kid and that fascination with the night sky has never left me. I let the magic of the desert surround me, I let my feet continue to carry me through the night, and I ran it in. Not an ultra shuffle, not for the last half mile, that was definitely more of a run. My breath came faster, my turnover increased, and I moved towards the sound of the dj and the lights of the start/finish staging area. I crossed under the finish sign and shared many high fives with the awesome volunteers who were still there into the wee hours of the morning. Dave, who was helping to orchestrate the magic of the timing and other technological components came to inform me that he was glad I had made it through and that there might be some texts/voicemails from him on my phone; apparently something went awry and my third loop didn’t register, so there was a slight question mark hanging over my name in their system, wondering if I’d bailed and just not told anyone, or worse- out wandering the desert. I assured him I’d done all the loops, and the volunteers vouched for me, and we had a good laugh about it. Honestly, the only aspect of this snafu that bummed me out was I was curious what the time difference between my first 10 mile loop and second 10 mile loop was. Fortunately, the technology on my wrist would allow me to go back and figure that out for myself if I truly felt so inclined. My final time was 7:27.12, and I was happy enough with that.

All in all, this was another spectacular race put on by Aravaipa Running. I have come to expect nothing less from this group of folks, both those employed by Aravaipa and all of the volunteers who show up to help make it happen. So many familiar faces, and fun to have random catch-up conversations while getting a water bottle topped off or shoving a salted boiled potato or a pickle into my mouth. This is a crazy community of folks, but it always feels like a community, and for that I am grateful.

Up next: much driving across the country, finding places to run along the way, teaching some Workskills sessions for the SCA, and generally gearing up for the Vermont 100! I’m still working on meeting my fundraising goal for this race, so if you have even $1 to put towards that effort, it would be greatly appreciated! All the money goes to Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sport, an incredible organization providing folks who wouldn’t traditionally have access to sports and outdoor recreation the opportunity to enrich their lives through sport and adventure.

As always, thanks for reading!

Zane Grey 50 2016...a reflection of a race experience

I've already written here about my preparation, anticipation and excitement that I was experiencing leading up to my first chance of running the Zane Grey 50. As such, I won't rehash all of that now. Instead, I'll tell you a story. It's about being prepared, about being excited, and about maintaining the ability to keep the long-view in perspective when things fall apart. I didn't get into this extraordinary world of ultrarunning because it was something easy to do, nor did I pursue it because it was something hard to do. I do this, because I truly love this sport. The individual challenges, the self-sufficiency, the race day friendships and the lifelong community, these are all reasons why I continue to be a part of the ultrarunning world. Sometimes things in this world go according to plan, other times they do not. This is my Zane Grey 50 2016 story.

Friday was a day full of nervous energy and excitement. I had already packed all of my drop bags, organized my running kit, made food, cleaned the kitchen, raked the yard, loaded everything into the jeep, listened to KEXP, cleaned and processed mulberries for a pie filling, made a double batch of pie crust, cleaned the kitchen some more, swept the whole cabin, watched the squirrels and stellar jays, finished a book, watched a bad movie...all just attempting to pass the time more quickly before it was reasonable to head down the rim and into Payson for the packet pick-up and meeting up with my TTR friend. The minutes seemed to take forever to pass, the anticipation was almost comical. This race has been on my running wish list for years, and here it was, just a day away, I really couldn't have been more ecstatic.

Organized&ready for drop bag city

Watching the local wildlife to pass the time

Cheryl Waters, the Midday show dj on KEXP

played my request to increase my stoke.

Thanks Cheryl!!

Finally three in the afternoon rolled around and it was an acceptable time to head down to Payson. I ran a couple errands in town and then headed to the Quality Inn where the packet pick-up and check-in was set up. Immediately upon arriving I saw familiar faces. While I have certainly enjoyed (and still plan to enjoy) my time out in New England and Vermont, and while I have met some pretty fantastic folks out there in the running community, I'm biased. Nothing seems to compare to my Arizona running family. Replete with adoptive siblings, first cousins, second cousins, neighbors...every level of acquaintance seems to be covered within this group of people. I finally was able to officially meet Joe, the RD, who I'd been communicating with via e-mail to coordinate the course marking and such. And of course, that fantastic e-mail when he let me know I had made the lottery for this year's race. It was nice to finally put a face to the e-mails and to realize that I had certainly seen him around at other running events. I signed my life away on a waiver, and in exchange received a bag with a race number,  a shirt, and some other random goodies. And then the hurry up and wait game continued. I had no idea what time my friend Mike Duer, a really rad human being and fantastic runner from the old TTR group, was planning to show up to the pick-up. He was not running, but he was bringing some TTR runners with him, two of whom were racing. (Spolier: One of them, Charlie Ware, would go on to win the race) While waiting around Michel Carson, another spectacular Arizona runner, was working on a video project for the race and was interviewing some of the bigger names and folks who had been involved in maintaining the trail and such. I was both surprised and flattered when he asked me if I'd answer some questions about my connection to the race and the Arizona trails community. It was fun and helped to pass the time, because as we were wrapping things up Mike and crew rolled in.

signing my life away...

My official race bib

Everyone checked in and race packets in tow we headed to the local Italian spot to do some pre-race eating. We were joined by Pam and Gary, two more TTR folks. Stories were swapped about past race experiences, strategies were discussed for how to approach the race, catching up on life, the standard sort of pre-race/we haven't seen one another in years kind of conversations! I was happy to hear other perspectives about the race course, and to feel encouraged about my strategy. Unlike some of my running pals, I am not super speedy. Honestly, how I ended up with so many wicked fast friends is kind of beyond me. Anyhow, I knew that my experience of the Zane Grey for this year was largely going to be chasing cut-offs. Best I could tell, I would manage to come in to each aid station about 30 minutes before the hard cut-off. I was totally satisfied with this, because I knew I could make it work without being super stressed out. As I've mentioned in previous posts, my training has been decent, but has had some derailments, due to medical mysteries and travelling and such. The other piece of that medical mystery and inconsistency is that, in the process I have gotten even further from my racing weight, and this has been a really frustrating struggle. I'm in decent ultra running shape, but I'm not in my ideal running shape/weight, and I'm working really hard to try and get back to that. I knew it would be a moderate factor in my race day, and I planned for it, but I don't want it to be a constant factor. Perhaps that's subject for a whole other post, I'll leave it at that.

Runners checking in before 4:45

Dinner done and everyone ready to head back to the cabin and get all the last minute race prep taken care of, we piled in Mike's car and headed to his place for the night. We made one last stop at the grocery store to get a jar of pickles for Charlie. If you don't think pickle juice is an amazing electrolyte balancer, look at Charlie's race results and refute that. Yup. I had already pretty well organized everything. I gave my drop bags one last glance, laid out my running kit for the morning, set my alarm for 3:03 am and somehow managed to fall asleep pretty quickly. Before I knew it it was time to get up, get dressed, and get ready to roll out to the race start. All runners had to check in no later than 4:45 am and the race started at 5. The morning was a little chilly, but not terrible. Once we got to the start area I quickly got into the short line for the pit toilet to take care of business, and then checked in with Joe and the support crew, and waited around for 5am. Last minute announcements were made on a bullhorn that I heard bits and pieces of. The fast folks moved towards the front of the trailhead and I milled around towards the back. I knew what my pacing was going to look like, and I planned to run my own race, so no need to get in the way of the speedy folks. Soon enough the countdown began, and then we were off into the approaching dawn.

counting down to race start

Headlamps aglow, off we go

Sun just starting to rise and bring some color to the sky

In addition to the community of runners, another reason I love this sport so much is the time I get to spend out on the trails. Back in 2009 I spent some time working out in this area, and even on the Highline trail, and it was just as gorgeous and breathtaking as I had remembered. It was not, however, as steep as I had remembered! Some more recent work added some swtichbacks to deal with erosion issues on the trail, and as a result the first climb was a lot more gradual than I had expected. This gave me more time to take in the sunrise, to listen to the coyotes howl in the distance, to think about all the challenges ahead of me in the days race, to stay focused, and to trip pretty spectacularly over a fallen tree. It was somewhere around 4 miles in, so the way I saw it, I was just getting the standard trail blood donation out of the way early. I quickly got up, dusted myself off and kept moving. My left leg and knee was a bit scratched up and swollen, but I was still mobile and that was all that mattered. The rocks that had been promised in the race description did not disappoint, there were many and it made for an increased level of focus, which I really enjoyed. As the sun continued to rise I was able to switch off my headlamp and continue to make my way along the Highline trail and towards the first aid station at Geronimo. The hard cut-off for that leg was 7:30, and I was hoping to get there around 7:00.

This. This is why I do this. 

Blood donation, sometimes you have to give more to
appease the trail gods. 

7:02am, I found myself at Geronimo, and was really stoked at how good I was feeling, especially in spite of the fall. Pam and Gary were volunteering there and it was nice to see them briefly. I grabbed a potato with salt and an orange slice, filled up my water, and kept moving. The next time cut-off was to be at the Washington Park aid station by 10 am, and that was about 9.5 miles away, with about 1,000ft of elevation to gain. At this point there were a handful of runners behind me, and three that had been in visual range in front of me. Due to the twists and turns of the trails, and their leaving the aid station just before me, I lost sight of the three runners ahead. I sipped on my water and kept moving.

This is beautiful, and there are rocks.

 The climbing started pretty quickly out of the aid station, and I tried to focus on running up the 'flatter' spots and power hiking the steeper sections. It seemed to me that the trail was pretty wide in that section, more like an old jeep road, but that was about all the thought I put into it. I was feeling good, and I simply continued with my forward progress. A small red-tailed hawk flew across the trail in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop the goofy grin from encompassing my entire face. This. This is why I do this. For these moments.Down the trail? Surely it was too soon to be on a descent. I knew the profile had some short sections of down amidst the climbs, but I was hauling down this trail. About a quarter of a mile into it I ran into another runner, going the opposite direction. He looked at me and said 'Am I going the wrong way?' My brain just wasn't thinking, at least not about more than 'I need to keep moving to make the next cut-off' so, I shrugged my shoulders, said 'I don't know man, I just saw some flagging right there' and kept going. (If this were a movie, there would be some dramatic, foreboding music in the background of this scene)
I could hear the voices of the people behind me in the distance, so I just kept moving and let the concern that I was on a road and not a trail go out of my mind. After a mile or so, I came to a plateau and looked around me to find one of the orange and black polka dot pieces of flagging to be sure I was heading the right way. I spotted one, and ran towards it, and hung a right down the trail.

Although the descent did give me pause, I didn't pause long and just kept moving. I kept seeing trail markers, and I had certainly not been on this trail, so surely I was going the right way. Surely. Are you getting where this is going? I continued to descend. And I hauled on that descent, trying to create any sort of time cushion with my pace before hitting the next climb, which I knew must be just around the corner. And then it happened. I ran into someone else on the trail. And this someone was Pam. Pam, from TTR, from the aid station, Pam, the sweep. Generally when I randomly run into people I know on a trail or in a race, I say hullo with a smile and maybe even a hug or a high five. I did not say hullo when I saw Pam. I dropped an F-bomb, and some other colorful words, but I did not say hullo. "Whoa, Scout, what happened, are you alright?" - this was Pam's greeting. 'I'm going the wrong way, aren't I?' More colorful language. I looked at my watch, it had been a little over one and a quarter miles since I had started the descent. I couldn't believe it. I turned around and started back up the trail, Pam right behind me. I tried so hard in that moment to hold onto my mental game, to find the strength inside me to just shrug my shoulders, haul ass up that hill, and hope that I somehow still made it under that 10am cutoff, in spite of the additional 3 miles I'd added to that leg. I tried to do all those things, but I did not succeed. Right there, I lost the mental game. Defeated does not quite encompass how I felt. I was frustrated, I was upset with myself for not paying better attention, annoyed for not having taken the time to ask a couple questions of the guy I had run into in order to have made it a half mile deviation rather than three miles. Mostly, I was just disappointed with myself. I had made an error, and I was pretty certain that error was going to cost me the race.

Less concerned with the seconds added by taking a
picture, this one is less blurry, because I stopped to take it

Enjoying the scenery. This place
just feels like home. 

My pace going back up that hill could at times have been described as a crawl. I even had a couple moments of stepping off the trail and sitting on a rock. I kept looking at my watch. 10am was getting closer, and
I didn't feel like I was getting close enough to Washington Park. The first couple miles Pam was great and kept trying to keep me positive. She told me it was okay to cuss about it and I had to laugh, because I had been, but apparently not loud enough for her to hear. We talked about the time cut off, making it to Washington Park in time, and whether or not it could happen. There was still a small chance, and then my mental game just couldn't shift. We made our way along the trail, slowly. Pam and I got to know each other, we talked about running, and life and all things between, we also walked in silence at times. My knee was getting pretty stiff with the decreased pace, and while I tried to pick it up, especially on the downhills, I kept getting hit with waves of nausea and having to slow down. Man, I had done an incredible job psyching myself out. Finally, 45 minutes too late, we had made it to the Washington Park aid station. My watch should have read 17.8 miles, instead my watch read 21.

Thanks Pam, I couldn't have asked for better company!

What a detour. I checked out with the radio relay service folks and was officially dropped from the race. I was able to have a brief reunion with Renee and Dallas, two more TTR folks who had been working the Washington Park aid station and were getting ready to head back to Tucson. Gary was also there waiting for Pam, and fortunately they were able to give me a ride over to the Fish Hatchery aid station, where my folks could pick me up.

This could be the part where I wrap up the re-cap. My race was over, time to go home and call it a day, right? Well, I got to Fish Hatchery, saw some more familiar faces, had to recount what exactly I was doing there/why I wasn't running any more. My folks showed up and we drove back to our cabin, I told them how my race had fallen apart, and how while Pam and I were making our way back over to Washington Park, that we had talked about how she was going to be sweeping the last section of the course from See Canyon to the finish, and that she was going to be doing it by herself. So at one point, I suggested to Pam that I would come back and sweep it with her. After all, my legs had planned for 53 miles, so it was nothing to add another 7 and change to my 21. If anything, it would make me feel better about how the day had panned out. My folks were supportive, and just a little bit surprised. I had told Pam that if I didn't show up at the See Canyon aid station by 6:15, that meant I wouldn't be there to sweep with her. Remember, the race started at 5am, I dropped at 10:45, my parents swooped me up at the Fish Hatchery around noon, we were back at our cabin by 12:30...there was still so much time left in the day! So the wrapping up doesn't quite end there, because I still wanted to be a part of this race. I took a shower, cleaned up my leg, put on fresh clothes, made some food, and waited for my folks to return from their lunch. When they got back, we visited with a couple of our neighbors, and my Mom could tell I was ready to go. We coordinated cars and figured out how to leave one at the finish for me to drive back after the race, and also to drop me off at the See Canyon aid station. I got there around 2:30 or 3 and quickly jumped into helping out at the aid station. I just can't help myself. If I'm not running, I tend to volunteer. I knew that the folks at See Canyon, Erin and Rich McKnight, had been at Geronimo, so it had been a long day of volunteering for them. I was happy to help in any way, and they were more than accommodating, letting me help with filling water bottles and the like. It was great to be there and to feel useful. It was also really nice to get to see some familiar runners and cheer them on.

6:45 rolled around and the hard cut-off was in play. The last few runners that made their way to See Canyon in time had gone through, and now it was time for Pam and I to sweep the course. I was happy to start moving again and making our way up the trail. Also, it was kind of comical to me that I was sweeping the same section of the course that my dad and I had marked the weekend before. The weather continued to be gorgeous, as it had been throughout the day. Never too hot, although the wind did get a little gusty at times. We made our way up the trail as the sun started to set. We talked some more and continued to get to know one another. As I had told Pam earlier in the day, while I couldn't have said I was glad to see her when I ran into her in the morning, I was still quite glad that it was her. So Pam, if you're reading this, thanks for making a difficult situation easier to deal with, and thanks for being a lovely person to pass the time with on the trails. We worked our way up, we took down the trail markings, we had a system down of Pam collecting the ribbons and me gathering the reflectors and putting them in a separate bag. We had it dialed. Night fell and our pace slowed a bit as we climbed up the rim. With about one mile left we caught up to the last runner and her pacer, and we swept them in, crossing the line around 9:30p.m.

So, Zane Grey, you won this year. You took me out. You are a tough race, and I know that for some runners, as Pam pointed out, you have become their Achilles heel. Well, you won't be mine. I will do what is necessary to be faster in the future, I will win the race weight battle and get back to where I need to be, I will put in the miles, do the speedwork, and get to a place where time cut-offs will have more padding for the moments where I don't pay attention and add bonus miles. This will, hopefully, not be the last report I write about Zane Grey. It will, hopefully, be the last report about a DNF at Zane Grey.

 But I will say, that the Mulberry pie I made was delicious.


Thanks to everyone who volunteered and helped to make this race happen. It was truly extraordinary.

Next up, the Vermont 100 in July. I'm still raising money for that one, so if you can, help me reach my goal, every little bit helps! Please feel free to share my fundraising link (it's right here) with any generous, philanthropic human you know!! I need to raise at least $1000 before race day!

Thanks, as always, for reading.