Sunday, March 9, 2014

2014 Old Pueblo 50 (The Storm)

While a large chunk of the country dealt with the most frigid winter in a century, those of us living in Southern Arizona were sipping piƱa coladas poolside. It has been...strange. It's like winter skipped us. 

I don't particularly enjoy the brutality that Tucson summers deliver, though I do enjoy living here. I hit bottom and lost everything in this town. I crawled out of a hole and rebuilt my life. I've become a man and have a family. I discovered my love for running, mountains, trails and nature while living here. I guess I can say; I found myself here.

That being said, the summer definitely wears on me. I really enjoy winter time, so this year I feel...gypped. Last year's Old Pueblo 50 was definitely a scorcher, I was not looking forward to a repeat. I just wanted a quick cool down. A little storm to roll through to cool the air a little bit. Is that too much to ask? 

So I prayed. I prayed for a nice cool down, so we could all enjoy the race (you're welcome). My training had gone great and I felt very relaxed coming up on one week until the race. To my disbelief, it was reportedly going to get stormy on March 1st. I sat there speechless as the news was predicting a storm to hit on race day. "Yes!" I thought to myself. "This is unbelievable!"

As each day clicked off closer to OP, the chance for rain ballooned. First it was 30% then 40%, by the time Friday arrived there was a 100% chance it was going to rain! "This is going to be perfect" I exclaimed to Kristi. "I should go under 8 hours with the cool weather. A little rain will be great.." I was all jacked up. Bring it!

The night before the Old Pueblo I got almost no sleep. I was so anxious about this race. This would be my third year running the race and I was sure it was going to be my best. Hannah had decided that she wanted to come, so the three of us piled in my car at about 4 in the morning and headed for the Santa Rita Mountains. 

We arrived at Kentucky Camp around five thirty in the morning. Kristi and Hannah had decided that they were going to hang out in the car for awhile, as they had eight plus hours to kill. Couple of troopers! The wind was blowing so hard that it was shaking the car. I got out and was immediately bitch-slapped by wind so strong it almost knocked me to the ground. "For the love of....why do I do this shit....?"

I made my way down to where the race begins and ends at the famous mining site. The wind was a lot more mild and the temperature was surprisingly warm. I looked up at the sky and the stars were clearly present. "Mmm, is it really going to get stormy?" I wondered.

I did my usual roundabout, making sure to say hello to as many of my runner friends as possible. I was chomping on Honey Stinger chews, while I was chomping at the bit... I'm ready to be released into the wild!

Joe Dana announced that it was time to get the party started and we all lined up. I managed to share a few words with a great friend of mine, Benito Gonzales. Benito was one of the first people that I ran with when I started running in Tucson and has taught me a great deal about the sport. Surprisingly, this was his first ultra. 

The feeling I get when a race is about to begin is so powerful. All the work, effort, time, pain, sadness, frustration, joy, stress and determination is now put to the test. 

This is what I live for.

Before I knew it, we were off! It was pitch black out as we all climbed out of Kentucky Camp. I had a game plan for my race and I wasn't going to screw it up. Nate Polaske and Dennis Pollow immediately went out in front. "Stay relaxed" I told myself. "No need to make this a race yet".

I noticed Michael Carson and Sean Meissner running up ahead. "What up, guys?" I asked, happy to see them. "Where is Catlow?" Sean asked. "He isn't running. He is a little banged up, I guess.." I informed them. Apparently, he is human.

The wind grew stronger once again as we climbed. I was chatting with another friend of mine, Charlie Ware, when all of a sudden I began to panic. "I don't have my bottles" I realized. I didn't have my freaking water bottles! What the hell is wrong with me? How could I have forgotten my water bottles?! 

"Umm, I forgot my bottles" I said to Charlie. "You what? I thought it looked like you were missing something" he said. "I don't know how.. This is fucked" I felt the walls crashing in. "You can use one of mine" Charlie said while handing me one of his bottles. "I doubt I'll need them both." What a guy! Charlie's water bottle was more of just a regular water bottle with a Velcro hand strap attached to it. But hey, beggars can't be choosers! 

I continued sticking to my game plan as I settled into about 10th place. I was mentally forcing myself to hold back. I wasn't going to fall apart today. Benito, Charlie and a slew of others made their separation and I let them go... 

Pretty soon after settling in, Aravaipa's own Nick Coury appears. Carson, Coury and I spent couple miles together. The sunrise began and it wasn't short of spectacular. Running conditions were perfect as we rode into Box Canyon aid station,

A group of us all departed around the same time. Sean and I cruised out together. Soon after, 'nature called' and I had to take a detour. "I'm gonna dip out to take a leak, I'll catch up with you, bro." I said. "Definitely, man" Sean responded, "I'll be around.."

A few runners shot by me, by the time I jumped back on the road. I was probably in tenth or eleventh place. "Damn, talk about taking it easy" I thought to myself, "the lead pack is out of sight.." 

Taking that pee break probably saved my race. 

I eventually caught up with Nick and another solid Tucson ultra-runner, Garrett Smith. Garrett took a left and I followed suit. "That's the wrong way" Nick shouted at us. "No, I don't think so. I think this is right..?" I turned around and realized that we had clearly missed a marked turn. 

"Oh, shit.. Everyone went that way.." I sadly thought.. 

"HEY!!!!!" I shouted 

"WRONG WAY!!!!!!"

"Hhheeeyyyyyy!!!!!!!"

"That sucks. I hope they realize it soon.." I said to Garrett as we headed off in the right direction. Nick stayed back to mark the turn better. Garrett and I cruised for a few miles shooting the shit. "It doesn't really look like it's  gonna get stormy." I eluded. "I know.. Well kinda." He responded. There were some clouds surrounding us and it was at that moment that I realized that it probably was going to get a little "weathery". 

All of a sudden I heard a few familiar voices coming up on the rear. I turned back and there is Nick, plus Carson and Meissner. 

"Hell yeah! You guys made it!" I was ecstatic. 

"We heard you!" They elated. "We tried to shout at the others, but they didn't make it.."

I've always been told that I have a loud voice. Glad I made use of it that day! Another youngster came running up the trail and the five of us continued on our journey. Once again Nick shouted that we were off course. There were trail markers blatantly looking at us in the direction we were going and none in the other direction? But he insisted we were going the wrong way.... 

For the next few miles a group of five of us reluctantly stumbled forward unsure of ourselves. "Isn't this the right way. Remember this, Sion?" Carson asked.. "Yeah, the aid station is right up here.. I think...?" The combination of Nick using his GPS and Sean reading the course description, we made it to the aid station. It seemed apparent, the course had been compromised. 

The five of us rumbled into the aid station happy to be on course, while also conveying our concern for the lack of course markings. 

"How many have come through here?" I asked Mary Croft. "Six runners have come through.." She informed me. "Six runners?" I thought to myself.. "Only six?"

By the time we all exited the aid station it was clear that six other runners kept going the wrong way (inadvertently) shortening the course by an estimated 3 miles. "But what happened to the Nate and Dennis?" I wondered. The race seemed bizarre. 

For the next several miles our group navigated our way along. I started to recognize the course and got really comfortable. I had been conserving so much energy plodding along, I felt fully charged. 

I said little as we climbed up Gunsight Pass. I hopped across the cattle guard and began the descent. "Look over there!" Carson pointed out. There was a cloud of dust being ruffled in the far distance. The view was amazing. Picture perfect. Crystal clean. The air was still. I felt a drop of rain hit my skin. It was calm before the storm. 

Our group sparsely stayed together for the next several miles. We got some news that it was possible that the course had been marked with only flour, that the flour had all blown away.. Or had the markings been removed maliciously? I don't think any of us knew what to think. Flurries of rain and wind started to kick up. The temperature dropped.

After rolling through the aid station at mile 19, I felt the urge to push the pace a little. I began to recognize almost all of this part of the course. "Hell, if we are the lead group, I should start to push the pedal down a hair.." I thought to myself. 

I began running with a little more aggressiveness and Carson stayed right with me. As we neared the 25 mile aid station the weather began to also become more aggressive. "This is going to get interesting" I said to Carson. "Yeah it is.. I am 99 percent sure I'm going to drop at 25." Carson admitted. "Just not feeling it. This race has been a mess. Just gonna make it a 25 mile training run.." I was kinda shocked that he wanted to drop but I understood his decision and didn't question it. 

Carson and I trotted into the aid station at 25 miles. The wind and rain was whipping through Box Canyon and I could feel the clouds becoming more threatening. It was such a boost to see all my friends at 25. Jim Holmes, Tom Gormely, Mike Duer, Kristi Sagar, Dallas and Renee Stevens, Randy Sooter and Ross Zimmerman (among others).

We went through the details and mishaps of our adventure thus far, explaining how the course was unmarked. "I was kinda wondering why so many people were ahead of you guys" Duer pointed out. "Just didn't make sense.." Sean came running into the aid station as the weather continued to grow worse. 

I pulled out my "emergency poncho" and began fumbling around with it. The wind was blowing it around like a kite. "Screw it. This isn't going to work." I took the poncho and stuffed it in a garbage bag. "Oh well.." I realized that I was probably under prepared for what was on the horizon. "You can take this" I look up and Randy Sooter is taking his jacket off. "Are you sure?" I asked him. "Yes, go ahead" he insisted. "Dude, thank you so much!" I took the jacket and zipped it up.  "He just took the jacket right off his back and handed it to me" I thought to myself. "Unbelievable."

Carson called it a day and Sean and I took off continuing our journey. "I can't believe he gave me his coat right off his back!" I said to Sean. "I know, I saw that. That is awesome!" He agreed. It was official that Sean and I were now the leaders of the race, regardless of who was in front of us. The jacket was so warm and comfy. "C'mon rain, I'm hot now. Bring it on!" I said. I would regret those words very soon.

Each of the last two years I have completely fallen apart going up the forest road from mile 25 to 29.. I have been physical and mentally preparing myself for this section. I was ready.

I focused on my breathing and began pulling away from Sean. I saw a couple runners in the distance, it was time to start reeling 'em in! I quickly caught up with the first runner. We shared a few words. He was aware that they had all went off course. He looked like he was beginning to hurt as I continued on..

I soon passed the second runner and then two more. I had ran every step of the climb up Box Canyon and I felt invigorated! Wind and rain smacked me around as I rolled into Box Canyon aid station grinning from ear to ear.

"What took you so long?" David Sowers quipped as I arrived. "Benito and Charlie left awhile ago.." He added. "Actually, I'm in first place, they went off course. So did a bunch of others.." I said while pouring pure salt in my mouth. "Damn, that's one way of doing it" Sowers said, referring to my sodium intake technique. "Straight to the heart!" I said as I took off, back on to the Arizona Trail.  

I began the climb up the Arizona Trail. The rain began to fall harder and the wind was ferocious. The ground became muddy and clay was getting stuck to the bottom of my shoes. I had to stop several times to scrap my shoes off on rocks because they became bricks, only to run a few feet before having to repeat the process. My hands became cold. My gloves were soaked. I was shivering.

I started doubting myself. "Could I go another 18 or 19 miles in this condition?" I asked myself. "My hands are frozen. I might just drop at 33.." I continued running pretty well despite all the pain I was in. I just wanted to make it to mile 33 and drop at the aid station. That's all.

I eventually made it to the aid station at mile 33. I immediately saw Michelle Hawk and Craig Dabler. "My hands are so cold" I explained. "I don't know if I can continued with my hands feeling like this, they are completely numb.." Michelle wouldn't even allow me think dropping was an option. "You will be fine, lots of runnable stuff from here. Joe Plassmann is at the aid station at 40, he has hot soup." On and on she went... 

I wasted some time there. Tried on a few pairs of gloves Craig offered me. Gazed at the torrential rain storm that was smashing into the Santa Ritas. Daydreamed. Ate pretty much nothing. Asked myself why I wanted it to get stormy. Could I go on? 

Pretty soon, Sean came running down into the aid station. He immediately complained about his hands being frozen as well. I could tell there was no quit in him, regardless of the elements. I couldn't stop now. Suddenly another runner, one of the guys I passed on the road up Box Canyon, appeared as well. This guy grabbed a drink and immediately took off..

"What the heck?" I mumbled. Even though we weren't actually racing each other due to the whole "off course" debacle, this really motivated me to go! "I'm going.." I said to everyone as I took off, following the other runner. Sean followed behind me and we began trudging through the muck..

The three of us sort of went into survival mode at that point. Sean and I met Justin Peschka, a fellow Tucson runner. Not sure why I don't know this dude? Justin was running with a t-shirt, just embracing the conditions! 

"Aren't you freezing?" I asked Justin. "It's gonna be miserable either way.." He quickly pointed out. He had a great point. "Suck it up, Sion." I thought to myself. "Perpetual forward motion.."

There weren't a lot of words shared between mile 33 to 40. The weather grew worse. The mud was slick and water was flowing off the mountain. It was bitter cold. Even with my water resistant jacket, I was completely saturated. All of a sudden, I embraced the conditions. I realized that I was going be wet and uncomfortable for the rest of the race, that I must accept it. Once I did that, I felt a little better. A little more confident.

The water was raging as we approached the aid station at mile 40. This was getting out of hand! All three of us grabbed a few things and quickly exited. If I stood still for more than a few seconds, I could feel hypothermia setting in. That was concerning to me. I did manage to stuff a piece of pork down my throat as I bolted out of there.. That was tasty!

Sean and I caught up with and passed, Justin. He was fumbling around with his jacket and a piece of bread as best as I recall. I was definitely becoming less lucid. We continued up the forest road while getting nailed hard by the fierce weather. We looked back and Justin was no longer in sight. "Damn, he faded fast" Sean said. We continued on.

The storm was at full capacity as we trekked up that desolate forest road. It had truly become "survival mode." We connected back to the Arizona Trail and climbed atop a ridge. The wind was blowing so hard and the rain was pelting my face. "Oh my God!" I cried. "We got to hurry up and get off this ridge!" Sean screamed! 

Conditions grew worse. For several miles we ran through water that was a foot deep. My shoes were filled with sand, yet we ran every step of the way. "I'll deal with the sand when this thing is over" I told myself. 

We neared the mile 46 aid station and I could see some light at the end of the tunnel. "Do you want to finish this thing off together?" Sean asked. I was taken back by that offer. I'm such a competitive runner, as is Sean. But there was no other way to finish off this Epic adventure other than doing it together! 

We cruised into the mile 46 aid station, which I can better describe as a mud pit. I did my best not to sink into the earth while I threw back some ginger ale. We quickly continued on, we were nearing the end! 

We were in the final stretch to the finish. The torture was coming to an end very soon and we were cruising! 

Kentucky Camp became visual. "This is it!" I was relieved. "Yes it is!" Sean said as we cruised up the hill! We crossed the finish line and shared a great hug! It was such a powerful moment. It was over, we survived the storm. 

We did it!

What an incredible adventure it was. I shared the moment with Kristi. It was over. Dallas and Renee offered their congratulations. As it turned out, Benito and Charlie had an Epic adventure as well. Those two ran an incredible race. I'm sorry that they went off course, along with everyone else. I think it would have been an amazing battle to the finish between a few of us had they stayed on course. No doubt. 

Congratulations to my friend and fellow TTR'er Jane Larkindale, for crushing the women's field for the win! You are one tough chick. Everyone out there was amazing. All the volunteers helping out in the bitter cold. All the runners that were in those elements far longer than myself, you are all my heroes. Thank you.


The weather continued to grow more horrendous as time ticked by. Runners ended up going missing. Being rescued. Runners with hypothermia. A rescue helicopter flying around. Eventually the conditions became so dangerous that the race had to be shut down. The entire experience seems so surreal.


This race will not soon be forgotten.



















                                   ~Photo's courtesy of Hannah Nelson