"I gotta do the Monster.." I told myself on the drive back to Tucson. "One day.."
I have had a pretty wild year of racing, it has had a little of everything. A torrential rainstorm absolutely demolished Old Pueblo. A blizzard engulfed Zane Grey. Hell, even a Haboob whipped around the Vertigo Night Race forcing a shutdown.
It hasn't been your typical Arizona race conditions this year. Not at all.
But through all of the wild, wet, cold, windy and HOT conditions that I've dealt with this year, I have had my best year of running and racing, ever. So when a couple friends of mine made the commitment to MOG, I decided that now was as good a time as any. I was in!
The Mogollon Monster 100 is not just any one hundred mile race. For one, it is closer to 107 miles and has over 23,000 feet of elevation gain. The trails are extremely technical and the landscape is rugged and unforgiving. It is a beast.
As race day neared, I second guessed just about everything.
"I'm not ready."
"I need more miles. More vert.
"I need counseling."
"I'm doomed."
You know, the usual. But in reality, I had very solid training and was free from any significant injuries. I was good to go.
I finished up my last long run the week before the race and began my taper. I was having an ordinary day at work on Monday morning when all of a sudden something wasn't right. I began vomiting and got hot and cold sweats. I suffered through the rest of my work day, came home and collapsed on my couch.
I was shivering. Something was terribly wrong.
"I think I may be getting the flu.." I moaned to Kristi.
"Don't make yourself sick, your probably just nervous because of the race.." She tried to convince me.
"No, I don't think so. I think I'm getting sick.."
That night I crawled into bed around seven o'clock in sweats and a hoodie and shivered myself to sleep. I dreamt of the race. I dreamt that I couldn't run, that I just stood there while everyone else sprinted into the distance. I was paralyzed. I couldn't move.
I awoke drenched in sweat.
Things were not looking good but fortunately it wasn't the flu. My health improved during the next few days and I got refocused on the all the loose ends that needed to be taken care of. Drop bags, pacer, crew... Oh, and rain gear. That's right, rain gear.
Unbelievably, it was supposed to get stormy on the rim during the race. That's right, again, a freak storm was expected to crash an Arizona ultra!!
"There is no way in hell it is going to be that bad.." I thought to myself. "Not again."
But predictions grew increasingly worse.
It was going to be that bad.
I made sure Kristi had all the instructions to navigate around the race course and my buddy, Korey Konga was all set to pace me from mile 63. I packed more crap into my drop bags than a Kardashian and I was ready to roll.
Word Salad!!
So Friday morning I set off with Michael Duer, his wife, Kristi (not to be confused with my girlfriend) and his mother, Gail, to their family cabin which is conveniently located near Pine, where the race begins. Mike and I picked up our bibs and on our drive back to the cabin we noticed that it had already rained in the area. Lightning was flashing like a strobe light in the distance and mist wafted off the ground. It was like a scene from a horror movie.
Mike and I glanced at each other and said little. Nothing needed to be said. We both knew what was coming..
We got back to the cabin and quickly called it a night. I dozed off but was jolted out of my slumber by the rumbling thunder. I sat up shaking, my heart thumping through my chest.
"Holy shit."
The rain began coming down furiously.
"Well, maybe the storm is already passing through.." I tried to be positive.
The night continued on with that same pattern until it was time to get up. Mike and I got our race stuff together. Kristi and Gail helped us choke down some breakfast and off we went. There was steady rain fall and I grew increasingly more nervous.
We arrived at the Pine Trailhead with about an hour to spare. It was cloudy but the rain had subsided. It was actually really nice out. Soon the race director (and friend of mine), Jeremy Dougherty announced that it was time for the pre-race briefing.
Jeremy said a lot during the briefing but all I heard was "It is going to get really bad out there."
The national anthem was played and I got goosebumps as we all got ready to begin this incredible adventure.
This is what I work for. This is what I suffer for.
This is what I live for!
Time ticked down and we were off, literally and figuratively! I let a lot of runners go ahead of me, probably about 50. I told myself all along that I was not racing anyone, I just wanted to finish this race. So I eased into it.
I passed some runners here and there and settled in behind Mike. We hung with a group of about five others for several miles at a reasonably easy pace. I am a very competitive runner, so it was an unusual feeling to not pay attention or care how far back I was from the leaders. I tried to enjoy the moment in it's entirety.
The rain started up as we made a climb that brought us into the clouds. The mud made its first ugly appearance and it was clear that dealing with mud was going to be half the battle. We all sort of half laughed at ourselves as we slipped and slid up and down the slippery trail.
"The probability of me actually finishing this race is very small.." I quipped as I used every muscle in my body to not face plant into the mud. Everyone sort of laughed with desperation.
Mike, feeling like the pace was a bit too slow, passed the group and began pulling away.
"Thank God." I mumbled under my breath as I passed by our little group and hung onto his heels.
The next several miles I cruised with my broseph, Michael Duer. It was surprisingly nice out and the temperature was comfortable. Besides some mud here and there, it was perfect. It was fun chatting with Mike as we enjoyed the absolute beauty that was on display.
We took it really easy on our first big climb up the rim. We chatted with a runner from Texas on the way up (Apparently everyone in Texas does this race). Our breathing never became labored. Easy does it. We topped out and the views were breathtaking.
The two of us rolled into Dickerson Flat AS and refueled. I discovered something at that aid station that was life changing. It should be considered a modern day miracle. The Nutella and peanut butter sandwich is made from Heaven! I can taste it right now... I digress. On we went!
Mike and I began passing runners here and there as we enjoyed some nice downhill running. Eventually we made it to a very technical and steep downhill section that dropped us straight off the rim. For the first time of the day, I pulled ahead of Mike.
I felt full of energy. I hopped and skipped down the rock cliff like a billy goat. I realized that all of the holding back I did early on was really paying off now. I made it to the bottom and dealt with some more of the muddy-mud-mud-mud.
"Damn you, Mud!" I shouted while I mud-skied down a slope.
Mike remained close behind me but it would be the last I saw of him.
I hit the Geronimo AS, gulped gatorade, ate a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich and some fruit then made my way to the Highline Trail.
I really fell into a grove when I hit the Highline. It was like Zane Grey all over again dealing with the mud on that trail. I had practiced this once before!!
I passed runner after runner. I was on autopilot. Every runner that I passed seem to be struggling which only infused the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The storm was holding off and it was at that moment that I realized that I really could do this. I was going to finish this race!
I continued cruising and soon passed a couple of hikers.
"You're in 21st place. Leaders about 45 minutes ahead." One of them informed me.
"I got a long time to catch up!" I responded.
I was really enjoying myself and the freedom that this incredible sport allows me to feel. I continued moving up in the race as I floated along the Highline Trail. 20th place, 19th place... 14th place, 13th place..
I eventually came rumbling into the Washington Park AS at mile 27. I had moved into 12th place and my adrenaline was going bonkers!
I got some dry clothes out of my drop bag and made a quick change. I was eager to get this gnarly climb up the rim over with so I didn't waste any time before I departed. Up the rim I went!
The climb up the rim from Washington Park is two miles of steepness that Kilian would approve of. The wind progressively got stronger the higher I went. I eventually topped out.
There was a few people at the top staring at me as I gasped for air.
"That shit sucked." I said with a smile as I headed off on the rim road.
The next five miles were along the rim road. It was tough to sustain running, so I found a nice rhythm. Running and walking, running and walking. The view looking off the rim is something that postcards are made of. Spectacular would be an insult.
It seemed like it took an eternity to get to Houston Brother Trail. I was so excited to get off that road. I felt like the life had been sucked out of me. I was feeling fatigued. I was a little concerned.
The Houston Brothers AS was a life saver because they had Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches. I must've eaten three or four of those heavenly delectables. I swigged some ginger ale and I carried on.
The next stretch seemed to go up and down, up and down. I got winded and gasped for air. I sat down for the first time. I leaned on a tree and looked at my watch: 8:45. I had only been going for eight hours and forty five minutes and I felt like I couldn't take another step.
"I'm toasted.." I said under my breath.. "There is no way I can go on for another fourteen, fifteen hours. No way."
I got up and took a deep breath. I stared at my surroundings. I absorbed the beauty. I smelled the fresh air. I looked down and picked a mushroom from the soil. The mushroom was covered in mud but I could see a bright red color gleaming underneath the muck. I took my fingers and wiped the dirt off it until it shined like a ruby.
"This is the adventure you've always wanted, Sion." I said to myself.
I dropped the mushroom and bolted down the trail. I am not sure what happened at that moment. Some things shouldn't be questioned. Whatever it was, it worked.
The next section of trail was the most beautiful running I have ever experienced. I floated along as if I had grown wings. I was no longer tired, instead I was full of energy. The single track trail was mesmerizing. Leaves were falling from the trees and wildflowers were in full bloom. It was precious.
I pretty much went in a zone and before I knew it I was on the heels of another runner.
"Hey, man. How's it going?" I asked him.
"Good. Man, you are looking fresh!" He pointed out.
"I had a little pep talk with myself and it seemed to do the trick!" I shouted as I flew by him.
As I approached the Pinchot AS at mile 41, I heard a familiar voice scream, "That's what I'm talking about!" And There to greet me was fellow TTR'er (Tucson Trail Runners) and Hardrocker himself, Mr. Bob Bachani! We shared a hug and it was all smiles... Then I was informed of the not so lovely news.
The storm was coming. It was going to hit in the next half hour or so and it was a doozie. I had my heavier rain gear down at Washington Park AS, which was another nine miles away. I did have a long sleeve shirt in a drop bag there, so I put that on and headed out of there. I needed to get to Washington Park.
"Long live TTR!!" I screamed as I took off.
Despite the bad news, I was excited. I was feeling solid as gold. In no time I would get to see Kristi for a little bit and Korey would pace me through the night. It was good. It was all good.
Soon I caught up with another runner and we shared a couple of miles together. We talked about the bad weather that was clearly moving in. We both agreed that we were on a pace to finish around 25 hours. We were being optimistic that the rain would come and that the rain would go. It would be fine.
The moment I pulled away from him was the moment it got ugly. The wind kicked up and the rain began to fall. The temperature immediately dropped and my hands became frozen. Lightning was striking alarmingly close and I was genuinely frightened.
All of a sudden I saw a runner coming back the opposite direction.
"I haven't seen a course marker for a long time. Are we going the right way?" He asked.
"Yeah, man. This is the right way, keep on going!" I shouted through the rain, wind and thunder. Once again it was survival mode. I've been here before.
At this point the rain was coming down in sheets and the trail was ankle deep water. It had become Old Pueblo-esq, if you will.
My hands were no longer working and hypothermia was beginning to set in.
"I am so tired of this shit!" I screamed. "Why does this keep happening..?"
I finally hit the section that I knew took me up to the top of the rim. From there I would drop down the steep section that leads to Washington Park. I was on my way.
"You are going to dry off, get some warm gear and get going." I told myself. "Quit whining, you are going to finish this thing off."
And soon I hit the top of the rim.
There were some people sitting, sheltered underneath a covering. They were all huddled near a fire.
"Hey, you okay?" one of them shouted to me.
"I'm okay. I just need to warm my hands up." I told them.
They brought me to the fire and I began defrosting my fingers.
We were having a conversation about the insanity of the storm when all of a sudden, over the radio, there was an announcement about the race.
I heard it loud and clear: "The race is going to be shut down at Washington Park."
Time slowed down and for a moment the world seemed to stand still.
"Shut down? But, I need to finish this race." I though to myself.
I looked at everyone sitting there as I stood up.
"I gotta go.." I said as I walked back into the storm.
I descended the rim in the heart of the storm. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of me. I was upset but understood that this was becoming very dangerous. I wondered where Kristi and Korey were. Were they waiting for me at Buck Springs AS? Was the rim road even drivable? Were they safe?
The stretch back to Washington Park was a blur of unknowns but I eventually made it back. I wrapped up 51 miles in a time of 11:21:03. I was in ninth place at the time.
It is bittersweet. I don't know how my race would have unfolded moving forward but I am quite sure it was going to be epic. That being said, I had an amazing experience out there and gained a ton of confidence going into my next 100 miler. I know what I am capable of.
I want to thank Jeremy Dougherty for making the tough decision to shut it down. I am quite sure that wasn't an easy choice. It was however, the right choice. Thanks to all of the volunteers and radio personal out there helping us do what we love. You are truly appreciated.
I also must note the appreciation I have for my buddy, Korey who spent hours in a car to pace me, only to spend more hours in a car and not pace me. Thanks man! And lastly, my girlfriend, Kristi who drove all around the universe trying to make sure I had everything I needed. I couldn't do this stuff without you!
And finally, I must say that I will be back to finish off The Mogollon Monster 100. I can't put it into words just how ridiculously awesome the race truly is.
It is a beautiful challenge.
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| Pre-race National Anthem |
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| Michael Duer and myself early on |
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| Running in the clouds |
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| Looking off the rim |
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| Until next year.. |
~All photo's courtesy of Andrew Pielage Photography
And not only that...
ReplyDeleteJK. Word Salad bro! Good write up. You'll get that finish next time. 3rd times a charm!
ReplyDelete