Crown King Scramble

Coming off a disappointing day at Old Pueblo, I wanted to jump into another race as soon as possible. As I looked over the upcoming race schedule I noticed one race that stuck out to me; The Crown King Scramble. After doing some research I became aware of the storied history that this race embodies. A 50 kilometer (there was also a 50 mile option added later) point to point on dirt roads from the Sonoran Desert floor on the outskirts of Phoenix to Crown King. Total elevation gain of around 6,750 feet. The race was held every year dating back to 1987 and is well known in the ultra community. CK was last held in 2007 but disappeared for several years until the masterminds at Aravaipa Running brought it "back from the dead."

In the weeks leading up to the race my training was going well, in fact I was running better than I probably ever had. I had just ran a 3:48 Esperero Loop, smashing my old PR by nearly an hour. My final long training run was TTR's brutal Mica Mountain Marathon. This 27 mile ascent/descent in the Rincon Mountains seemed like the perfect "cherry on top" to my CK training.

I felt pretty good as I made my way up Douglas Springs Trail. I did notice my left foot had a twinge of pain in it, I thought nothing of it. I hit the summit at Mica and headed back down. As I came off Cowhead Saddle I was fully aware of the pain in my foot. It was at this point, noticeably slowing me down. I still had a good 8 or 9 miles to go, so on I went. I finished up the run and took a seat. I sat there trying to ignore the pain. I drank a Gatorade, talked about the run with some folks and relaxed. As I stood up and began to walk, I mean hobble, I realized just how bad this injury was. I was in excruciating pain. I couldn't even put my foot to the surface of earth without mind blowing pain. Fuck. I tried playing it off, saying "it's just bruised, it will be fine". But deep down I knew it was bad. I limped to my car, got inside and engaged the clutch... Holy mother of pain! It took me several attempts to endure the pain long enough to actually get the clutch engaged. Sitting there with tears of pain pouring down my face, I thought to myself, "I can't be hurt, I have a race in 2 weeks."

I did no running for the next week and even missed a day of work because I could hardly walk. One week remained before CK and I decided to go for a jog. I managed to sort-of limp a jog around the block, so I was upbeat. The next few days I strung together a few crappy 3 or 4 milers and proclaimed to Kristi, "I think I'm ready to race!" She of course seemed to have some concern, but my stubbornness wouldn't let me fold! I was determined to do this race.

So the night prior to the race Kristi (my wonderful, supportive and beautiful girlfriend) and I set off to Phoenix. Our plans were to drive all the way to where the race begins and find the closest hotel. Sounds like a great idea, right? So off we went. We drove through Phoenix and beyond. Lets just say we had some trouble finding the starting point. Frustrated and tired we decided to just get a room at the Comfort Inn, in Peoria. By the time we checked in it was after 9 and we hadn't even eaten dinner. We ordered a pizza and settled down. As soon as my face hit the pillow, I was out. It couldn't have been more than 20 minutes before I was jolted up due to the party going on in the room next to us. I later found out the Kansas City Royals farm team was to blame. I called the front desk and complained. It stopped. Then it started up again. This routine continued on.. I hate the Royals!

I got up on a bum foot and a couple hours of sleep wishing I just stayed home. I felt like death. We checked out and headed to Lake Pleasant. After choking some McDonalds oatmeal down, I was ready! Kristi dropped me off at the start and set off to Crown King. It was such a eerie feeling saying bye to her, not knowing if she could find this little mining town atop the Bradshaw Mountains. Unsure if I could even run more than 4 miles on my crippled foot.

So here I was standing at the start, full of questions. 3-2-1 and we were off! For the first couple of miles I ran with a group of about 10. I saw 2 runners immediately create some distance and disappear. My foot seemed to be feeling okay, so I was feeling optimistic. I cruised along at a steady pace and thought about the adventure it was to get here. I thought about Kristi and what a trooper she is. I envisioned the finish line and the celebration that would follow. I thought about my foot. Unfortunately, I would spend the majority of the race thinking about my foot.

The Start at Lake Pleasant

Around mile 5 or so the group had spread out. I was somewhere in the top 10. I felt good. a family in a ATV past by and a little girl wearing sunglasses smiled at me. I smiled back. I was beginning to gain on a few runners and past a few of them. I was enjoying the course. There was a lot of hills, followed by some nice descents. I noticed that on the downhills I couldn't hammer it the way I'm accustomed to. Every time I started to run hard I felt my foot start to throb. I kept playing it off. I remember thinking that it was probably a bad sign that my foot was irritating me before I hit the halfway point. The first half of this race is the "easy" half. It was getting noticeably hotter on the exposed dirt road. It became apparent, I was in for a long day.

Keep on Truckin'

I cruised into the mile 15 aid station feeling a little less optimistic than before. I stuffed some food in my mouth, popped a few S-Caps and headed off. This next section was a lot more difficult. There were super steep inclines with lots of rocks and craters. This was the most technical forest road I had ever seen! I do most of my training on very technical terrain and normally I would have no problem dealing with the difficulty of it. In fact, I would probably enjoy it. But not on this day. My foot was beginning to take a serious beating, the throbbing was constant. I thought to myself "Kristi was probably right, this was a bad idea..". Around mile 17 I began feeling not only the effects of running on my injured foot, but also that of not running much for the last couple weeks. I began to think about dropping. One runner past me, then another.

The course continued to get more difficult. I would reach the top of one brutal hill only to find an even less forgiving one waiting. My demeanor began to take a dive. I got lax on keeping track of where my feet landed and started bashing the injury more frequently. Another runner past me. As I approached mile 25 or so I ran out of water. I saw a Sheriff on a quad and I asked "how far 'til the next aid?", he responded "a mile and a half or so.. or maybe more." I thought to myself "or maybe more?" I kept on trucking. That same family in the ATV past by, the little girl with sunglasses smiled at me. I didn't smile back. I needed water. Finally I found some water flowing. I filled my handheld and took a long drink. Ahhhhh, relief.

It was a blessing that I found water because the next stretch to the aid station was particularly demoralizing. This hill went on for days. I began climbing the hill as I fantasized about food. I could see the aid station way on top of the hill as I past bushes with bras hanging on them. Was I hallucinating? I didn't smile. Another runner past me, then 2 more. Being fairly new to the sport, I have never experienced this before. It was pretty shitty to say the least. I finally shuffled into the 27 mile aid station. The aid station was blasting music and boasting friendly faces. The view from here was spectacular. I looked over the picturesque mountain rage as I shoveled Oreo cookies down my throat. I don't even like Oreo cookies. 2 more runners hit the aid and immediately took off. "Go ahead" I thought to myself, "I don't give a shit". I noticed a few more runners chugging up the hill and I thought, "c'mon Sion, get it together and finish this off." I stuffed a bunch of gummy worms in my pocket and set off.

mmmm Oreos

I was told that there was about a 1.75 miles of climbing left, followed by 2 miles of "screaming downhill". I pushed up the hill, my legs were beginning to cramp up and my foot had a irregular heart beat. On I went. I kept the runner ahead of me within view as I pushed up the last of the hill. I hit the summit. A guy was sitting on the tailgate of his truck, I stopped and said "that shit sucked.." He responded, "well, it's all downhill from here." In which I replied "already?!" I departed and started clocking off a 6:30 pace. I wanted the torture to end.

The last stretch into Crown King was amazing. Ponderosa pines spread a blanket of shade over my sun baked body. The road was smooth, the air was crisp. A feeling of euphoria washed over me. All of a sudden life was good again, I forgot about all the suffering I had just endured. I took a sharp left and saw the finish line next to the Crown King Saloon. I shot through it and collapsed to the ground. Becoming one with earth upon completion of a race has sort of become my trademark. I saw Kristi standing over me smiling. A few guys were asking me if I was okay, "he's fine, he always does this", Kristi answered for me. My legs were seizing, it felt like my muscles were going to rip right out of my skin. I got up, smiled and exclaimed "my job here is done!" Kristi and I both laughed.

I Survived!

Trademark Move

What a scene it was at the finish line in Crown King! I don't think a whole lot has changed there over the last hundred years. It looks like something straight out of an old western film. Kristi had quite an experience herself, which even included meeting a celebrity. There really is nothing quite like the finish festivities at the end of an ultra. This one was particularly entertaining.

When all was said and done, I finished Crown King in 5:16 and some change for 16th place. Not too shabby for running on one good foot, I suppose. Deciding to run 31 miles on an injured foot was not one of my wisest decisions. Without a doubt, it has prolonged my recovery process. But I hold no regrets for the choice I made. I always learn the most about myself when I suffer the worst.

I can't wait to toe the line at Crown King next year!

Crown King Elevation Profile

Crown King Saloon

Boom!