2014 Zane Grey 50 (The Storm; Part Deux)

I've been hearing about Zane Grey since I stumbled upon the sport that has since become my reason. I've heard the war stories about the difficulty that the 50 mile race embodies. How it chews-up even the toughest of the tough. How gnarly and gruesome it can be. And the heat...all about the heat.

The Zane Grey 50 runs point-to-point along the Highline Trail from Pine to Christopher Creek and is "regarded as the toughest, roughest and most beautiful 50 mile trail runs in the country."

So needless to say, I've wanted to take a stab at Zane Grey for the last few years. Last year I wrecked my foot and couldn't make it. So when registration for the 2014 installment of Zane Grey opened up, I had my credit card locked and loaded. I was in.

I had also registered for Old Pueblo, which I felt would be a nice trainer to help me prepare for Zane. It was going to be the my third straight year running Old Pueblo and I had high expectations for the race. If you are not already aware of what happened at Old Pueblo 2014 click here. But I'm sure most of you are now aware that the Santa Rita Mountains were hammered with a torrential rain storm on race day that reeked havoc upon everyone out there.

As it turned out, I wound up having what was probably my best race ever at Old Pueblo on that dark day. Sean Meissner and myself shared a tie for first in a debacle of a messy race. I handled the conditions, braved the storm and pushed through some serious rough patches. My buddy Duer, who was out braving the elements while volunteering said "This is probably the only year that Old Pueblo will be harder than Zane." It was an Epic day.

I thought, "If I could handle running through those horrendous conditions, I surly can handle Zane.." I had more confidence in my abilities and after a short recovery, I resumed my training.

The remainder of my training went well. I managed to smash a couple of my PR's on two of TTR's exceedingly brutal runs. I had the added bonus of getting a nice 25 mile training run on the course and what I had been told rang true; The Highline Trail is rough and tough.

It's beautifully brutal.

All in all, I made myself do some serious suffering as I prepared and I was ready to tackle the beast known as Zane Grey.

I made it to my taper feeling free from any significant aches and pains. As we all know, that is half the battle. I was pretty damn excited about the race!

I am not entirely sure how I first heard the news. It may have been Facebook or it may have been word of mouth. It may have been the news. Hell, it may have been telepathy. But no matter how I got the news, I was left speechless. The news was saying that a storm was supposed to hit on race day. Not the day before, not the day after.

A storm was expected to crash the Zane Grey party. 

"How could this be?" I thought to myself, "this is crazy.." I was in shock. On the other hand, I was excited that it wasn't going to be a scorcher. I hadn't had much heat training yet and with how I handled the stormy weather at Old Pueblo, I felt like I had a nice advantage. I would know how to better prepare for it.

Plus, there was no way it could be as bad as Old Pueblo. No way. Not possible. Not in a million years.

So as the days ticked off closer to the race, the weather reports grew increasingly more grim. And as the reports grew more grim, I grew more excited. "This is gonna be amazing!" I would convey to Kristi, "Who would have ever imagined that this would happen? Two Arizona ultras in a row, both getting smashed with wild weather.." 

I just couldn't believe it and I couldn't wait.

The day before the race, Kristi and I packed far more than we needed into our car and headed off to Payson, AZ. Kristi was crewing me during the race so we both made sure to have all that we needed to handle the conditions. We were quite meticulous. No, not really. We just took everything we owned.

As soon as we hit the road I received an email that said that the race had been changed. Due to the increasing risk of high water crossings, the course had been modified. You could now choose between a 50k(ish) or a 50 mile(ish) distance, both ending at the Fish Hatchery. This storm was supposed to get nasty. 

"This is crazy.." I whined as I read the email to Kristi. "I didn't train all this time to run a 50k, I'm running 50 miles regardless of the weather." I was definitely disappointed that I wasn't getting the opportunity to show what I was capable of on the "classic" Zane Grey course.  

The trip up to Payson went surprisingly quick. Pretty soon I saw the Mogollon Rim looming in the distance and I knew we had arrived. After a little confusion Kristi and I located The Best Western Hotel, which had conveniently changed it's name to The Quality Inn the night prior. 

After meeting up with my fellow trail mashers at packet pick-up, which was located in the conference room just feet from our suite, we settled in for the night. 

Lutick kickin' it with Tucson's finest

I looked into the distance off our balcony as the sun settled out of sight. The wind kissed my face. It was warm. "It doesn't feel like it's gonna get stormy... " I thought to myself.

My alarm obnoxiously barked at me at three on the dot. I got my game face on and quickly climbed out of bed. "Time.. Time for some action..." I mumbled as I began getting myself together. After forcing a bowl of Oatmeal down my throat, Kristi and I headed off to Pine.

We arrived at the start with about a half hour to spare. The temperature was quite warm with a slight breeze. It was too dark to see but I could sense a cloud cover looming overhead. Kristi met up with Duer's wife, who is also named Kristi, and we gathered for some pre-race pics. I was glad that Kristi (my Kristi) was going to have Kristi (his Kristi) to ride around with since she had done the aid station hopping thing before.

Amped to race with Duer and Stackhous

The time had arrived and we all made our way to the start. Joe Galope, the race director informed us that it was supposed to start raining in around 15 minutes. I looked to my right and there is Sean Meissner standing there beside me. "Did you remember your bottles?" Sean cynically quipped. I had forgot my bottles at Old Pueblo and wound up borrowing one. How I forgot the water bottles, one will never know?? "Yes, plus I got a jacket and waterproof gloves!" I was quite proud of how prepared I was.

The usual countdown ensued and it was time to race! A lead group sprinted ahead at what seemed to be a completely unreasonable pace. "Holy crap, those guys look like they're in a hurry" I said to Sean. "Yeah, a little too ambitious for me" he responded. I knew enough about the course not to get wrapped up in a race right out of the gate. So I settled in behind Sean at a nice easy pace.

It was warm with a touch of humidity as we made our initial climb out of the darkness. The sunrise began and I was reminded once again why I love what I do. A small crease in the horizon allowed rays of sunshine to squeeze underneath the thick cloud cover. It was perfect. 

Pretty soon a few runners began creeping on my heels and eventually passed me and Sean. Brett Sarnquist and Nick Coury blew by us. I began to feel like I was holding back too much, that I was losing too much ground. Garrett Smith appeared in my rear view. "You and Sean gonna bring the crazy weather again?!" Garrett joked. 

Right at that moment I knew it was time to make a move. "I'm gonna pass on by.." I said to Sean as I made my way around him. I figured I had fallen into around 20th place. I panicked briefly and pushed on the accelerator. 

I was feeling full of energy as I cruised on the single-track that was hugging the side of the White Mountains. I gazed for miles into the distance and absorbed all of the beauty. The air was perfectly still as the clouds began to seal up the horizon. 

It was calm before the storm.

I soon caught up with Nick. I tailed him for a few miles, passing runners here and there. I finally relaxed and settled into a nice groove as we rolled into the Geronimo aid station at mile 8. We both wasted almost no time and departed.

Nick dipped off the trail and I continued on my way. For the first time of the day I felt the temperature begin to plummet. A few rain drops started falling and the wind began to pick up. I was excited and I was ready for some downright shiticulous weather!!

The rain continued to fall harder and the mud made its first ugly appearance. 

"Damn you MUD!"

It was sticking to the bottom of my shoes.

"My shoes must weigh five pounds apiece..."

I eventually began approaching the Washington Park aid station at mile 17. I was getting excited to see Kristi along with a bunch of my Tucson running family! It is such a boost to see familiar faces during a race. It is something I can't even put into words. It's just special.

I only ended up passing one more runner during that long stretch from Geronimo to Washington Park. That runner happened to be a girl and she looked pretty damn fast.

I got a much needed burst of adrenaline as I made my into Washington Park. Kristi got me some dry gloves (the waterproof were filled with water. Go figure). Dallas was there as always helping me with anything I needed. Renee, SteveO, JoeP, Kristi (his Kristi), Denise and a bunch of other familiar faces got me all jacked up and I bolted outta there with a lil pep in my step!!

Heading into Washington Park...

...and into the storm!!

It wasn't long after I left Washington Park that I realized I was getting very cold. I was wet and the ground was slippery, making running more physically demanding. The rain turned to hail. Those little frozen beads began pelting me in my face. That'll wake you up!

Soon enough my fingers had become completely numb. I felt my demeanor dwindle. I cursed myself for doing this ridiculous sport. And just like I had expected, Nick appeared behind me. "This is what's up!! Nick said as he made his way by me. I got my spirit back, focused and hung onto his tails.

So the weather.. Well, the weather continued to get more severe. It was now snowing full white flakes. It was quite mesmerizing. The mud was making everything more difficult, more dangerous.

The clouds had landed on top of us. Thick white layers blanketed the distance. "This is amazing" I thought to myself. With snow beginning to stick to everything, it became a winter wonderland. "There is nowhere I would rather be.."

Nick and I took a wrong turn and got off course for a mere five minutes. As we got back on track the girl I had passed earlier had already caught up. 

"Geez, I can't believe this chick caught up???" I thought to myself.

The three of us continued on in a close-knit pack for a number of soggy miles. 

"Who is that chick?" I asked Nick. 

"That"s Kerrie Bruxvoort."

I immediately recognized the name as the winner of last years race.

"She's quick."

And she was. We all stayed relatively close for a long time. The conditions got worse and worse. I pretended to love the weather. The weather didn't pretend to love me. At all.

We turned a corner and out of the blue, in the middle of the mountains, in the middle of a blizzard, Hells Gate aid station abruptly appeared. Hell had apparently froze over. I was amazed that a fully stocked aid station was functioning in the middle of this insane storm. Just amazing! The three of us quickly grabbed a few things and departed.


If there was one thing that I took from that 25 mile training run I did several weeks earlier was that there is one gnarly climb before you near 33. It drained me that day and I knew it wanted to abuse me today.

As we approached the climb, Brett caught up with the three of us. Not surprising at all. I was shocked that we hadn't caught up with any of the other runners? Our pace had remained solid. The field was definitely stacked that day.

The trek up that slippery slope destroyed my energy. Nick and I made a little separation as we topped out. We traded places as we slipped and slide(d) around the trail. Half the battle was just keeping on our two feet. I was surprised that we were able to accomplish that.

I was freezing. My energy was non-existent. Nick began to pull away. 

I ran alone for awhile. I wondered if I could keep going after 33 miles.. I was hypothermic, but I couldn't let everyone down. I would keep going.

I slugged up a hill lost in thought. 

"You're almost to the top."

I looked up and there was a couple of guys standing at the edge of the trail. 

"Fish Hatchery is 3 miles away. The race has been called there."

I was caught off guard by those words. 

"You mean I can't go on?" I asked.

"Nope."

I wasn't sure how I felt about this. I was definitely cold and wet. I was covered in mud. I had kicked a branch and tore a hole on top of my left shoe which was allowing all the muck to get in. I was sick of sliding around. I was having trouble eating because my fingers no longer worked enough to get to my food. Even with all of this going on, I still had a lot of racing left inside of me. I desperately wanted to move up in the race. I had run very smart but it was over..

I could see Nick way out in front of me, just a small red dot in the distance. I figured I might as well give it my all and try to catch him. There was a slight descent and I made good use of it. I started to gain on Nick. I looked behind me briefly and saw that Kerrie and Brett were catching up to me as well.

I was pushing as hard as I could when I slipped and took a hard fall to the ground. I guess it was inevitable. I had mud caked all over my body. I picked myself up and quickly continued on. Nick was only a few hundred feet in front of me when Kerrie passed me. It wasn't Brett that was with her, rather a pacer that she apparently picked up. Smart girl.

I followed on their footsteps not letting them make any separation. The storm had reached full capacity. The wind howled as the snow flew around in every direction. The trees swayed back and forth as if they were alive and angry. We soon caught up to Nick. Kerrie and her mysterious pacer wasted no time and passed him. I figured it was time to settle in behind him and finish this thing off together!

I could hear the sound of people screaming as we closed in on the Fish Hatchery. "Nice running with you!" I shouted to Nick as we finished off the last steps of the wild adventure!! 

Nick and I wrapping it up!!!

I hit the pavement and it was officially over!

I wound up finishing the modified 33 mile race in 6:15, good for 11th place. While disappointed I didn't get the chance to pick off some more carnage, I consider that a success! There were some talented runners out there.

What an incredible experience it was.. Just blows me away that two races in a row, I was dealt with more than I had ever experienced. Two epic races on the courses of a pair of Arizona's most legendary ultras. 

Life is brilliant.

Thanks to all of the volunteers out braving the storm. You are truly my heroes! Especially you, Kristi (my Kristi). As always I got to enjoy chilling with the one and only Michael Farris after my race. That dude is a world of entertainment! And thanks to Honey Stinger for fueling my adventures even when my fingers are incapable of movement!!

Congrats to Ryan Smith and Kerrie Bruxvoort on the wins! 

Way to represent Tucson, Catlow, Duer, Stackhous, Hawk, Fall and especially Dabler!! 

Let's Keep putting Tucson on the Map!

Until Next time...