tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53512013658805784142024-03-05T20:31:29.936-08:00Running My LifeSirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-66414093195801262032020-01-28T15:24:00.002-08:002020-01-28T15:41:59.721-08:00Oracle Rumble 50K & 40 Years Alive<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The last few weeks have been very interesting. I turned 40 years old on the 17th of January and the lead up to that day was a bit of a roller coaster. I mean, 40 years old... That's like grown up stuff.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have never been one to make a big deal about my age or a birthday for that matter, but this one felt <i>different.</i></span></span><br />
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I thought the best way to enter this new territory would be to run. A lot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Makes sense, right?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And so I did. In the four weeks leading up to my birthday, I ran over 260 miles with more than 40K feet of climbing. Not the most I've ever done, but my best training block in a long time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Midway through that stretch, I decided to register for the Oracle Rumble 50k.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was feeling good and having done the 50 mile race a couple times, I knew this course inside and out! This would be the perfect way to start my middle age meander.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I would go downtown hammer town and walk away with the win!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hell yeah.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is 40.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Raking in W's, like a boss.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One thing I have learned in ultra running and racing over the last decade is that you can't predict shit!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Some days I feel good and race poorly. Some days I feel like garbage and race well. It's useless trying to figure it out. Some days I am completely out of shape and fly for god sakes! I mean, really?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just stop. IT'S USELESS!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But this one just felt right. I was going to crush it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I knew it!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Raceday morning arrived and my alarm shrieked me out of a half slumber.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Ah, man..." I moaned. "I feel sick."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My throat was as dry as the Tucson desert on a scorching summer day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Can't be. Of course. Of course it is." I muttered as I put my racing gear on.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I eventually made it to the starting line feeling much better than I had when I woke up.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"It's just a sore throat. Suck it up, Sion." I told myself.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter Davidson was also racing the 50k and Peter is quite fast. I knew it was going to be a battle today.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wished Peter luck as we all lined up.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As per usual, I took a moment to envision my day. I would give it hell for 32 miles and not let anything get in my way.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Not Peter, not nobody. Not a damn cactus for all I care. Nada.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was my day. I would run the fastest today. I put in the work and it was going to pay off.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">40 years old. Who cares? I am the fastest!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We all counted down from 10, AZ Trail connoisseur Matt Nelson let a bullet fly and a mob of trail junkies were off!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter wasted no time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And when I say Peter wasted no time, I mean Peter... He wasted no time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were dropping sub 7's from the jump.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This race is heavy downhill early, heavy uphill late. So you have to take advantage. Within reason, of course...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter quickly made separation as I gave chase, along with another runner by the name of Tyler Scheibenpflug.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What the?" I thought to myself. "this is supposed to be a race between Peter and me, what are you doing here? Who is this guy?"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The nerve.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter continued slowly stretching the lead, the two of us hammering away after him.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Hey, you can pass anytime, just let me know." Tyler shouted back to me as we zigged up and down the Arizona Trail.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The sun was rising, spraying golden rays across the desert landscape, giving the cholla fields a softening, almost inviting feel.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Oh, nah, I am good with this pace actually..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I was. We were hauling.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Doubt Peter is gonna maintain this pace, especially when we hit the climbs." I added.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The climbs are my money maker. I love running up steep shit. It's how I level it out, ya know? By running stuff that isn't level. You get the idea.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"This is my first 50k, so I know I'm gonna completely wreck myself!" Tyler quipped.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"First 50k? Just a rookie!" I screamed.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yeah!!!" He shouted back, with what sounded like a lot of confidence.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Hope I don't regret that whole 'rookie' comment..." I began thinking. "That was a dumb thing to say."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I can't say that I felt that great, but some how the three of us all trotted into the Beehive Well aid station together 8 miles into the race.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We all choked down some food, refueled and continued on.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next couple miles of hilly forest roads began to chip away my energy level at a rate that was rather concerning</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What the heck? This shouldn't hurt this bad." I moaned.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were dropping 6:20 pace around 10 miles, when I had to make a pit stop.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Okay, let them go." I told myself. "Run your race. Let them beat each other up, you'll catch them on the climbs."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The two quickly disappeared into the distance.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Out of sight, out of mind..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I settled into my own pace as I began the first of many big climbs.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Speaking of climbs, remember that thing I said about climbs?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, on this day... THEY HURT!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And that screaming downhill early in the race was all but a distant memory. What remained was a lot of climbing. More climbing than I remembered, fittingly.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next few miles were a complete grind.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As much as I thought they were pulling ahead of me, I finally caught sight of them weaving up the switchbacks just beyond Mountain View aid station.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was in and out of the aid station with a little more pep. Fifteen something miles in, I knew there was a lot of race left. I also knew by how I felt, the second half was going to be quite painful.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Just keep grinding!" I barked at myself as I chugged up the steep terrain. "You will catch them."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I crossed the 20 mile mark and was moving pretty well. I hit another forest road and trotted up a steep section, followed by a long stretch of runnable downhill.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I cruised for a bit before realizing that I didn't recognize any of the area.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What is the deal here?" I wondered. "I think I'm off course..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Having done many races, I've had the unfortunate experience of being off course a handful of times. And let me say just this, it is one of the most demoralizing feelings ever.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mind was racing as I continued down the forest road.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"This can't be right, I don't see any footprints. I'll just go a little further..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Soon I reached a fork in the road. Not a race marker in sight.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I came to an abrupt stop. Aware that indeed, I had missed a turn.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Are you fucking kidding me!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I turned around, looking up at that steep road I had spent the last mile or so running down.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I put my head down.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Your race is over."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I began sprinting back up the road, frustration boiling over as adrenaline coursed through my veins.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Up I went, faster than I had run since that pit stop at mile 10.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I can't believe this, ruined your race..."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As soon as I topped out, I saw the turn I had missed. It was clearly marked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Well, shit. There ya go." I moaned as I got back onto the trail and continued on.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For a brief moment, I actually felt fantastic. The thing is, adrenaline can be a cruel villain. And once the adrenaline wore off, I began a downward spiral that ranks among the most painful I've experienced as an ultra runner.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">First it was my old nemesis, the cramps. The two of us hadn't tangoed in some time, so what the hell. That with a side of nausea will do the trick!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My attitude plummeted.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Screw it, I'm dropping." I whined.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was in a world of pain. Nothing felt good. I began wishing I went back to sleep when my throat was hurting. I crawled up the trail, nothing but climbing. No end in sight.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I cannot believe I'm running this at a slower pace than when I've run 50 miles out here..." I whimpered. "Ridiculous."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hit the Tucson Wash aid station completely wrecked. I sipped a cup of coke and filled my handheld, wishing this was a convenient place to drop. I was now at 25 miles and the thought of another 8 or 9 miles seemed impossible. Or just senseless...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Finding out that I was now about 20 minutes back only added salt to the wound.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I stumbled off, back on course. Shuffling ahead.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I made a decision to quit. That's right, I was going to drop at the next aid station. I just had to survive for another 4 or 5 miles. That's amateur stuff.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I would rather not go into too much detail about that stretch from Tucson Wash to Tiger Mine, but to summarize it;</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I hit rock bottom, then I accepted the suffering.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was the adventure I signed up for. This was the challenge I chose. Feeling like crap, getting lost, bonus miles, full body dry heaves...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Embrace it! All of it!" I told myself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Finish what you started!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The 4.5 miles from Tiger Mine to the Finish line were nothing more than a sufferfest. One foot in front of the other type shit.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I crossed the finish line in just over 5 hours, somehow holding onto a podium spot in 3rd place. I hugged Kristi and was greeted by Peter and Tyler.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter ran a sizzling time, setting the course record in 4:21! Huge congrats to Peter Davidson, big things to come man!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And that "rookie" Tyler? He held on to second place finishing in a solid time of 4:51! Well done! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That was by far one of my toughest races and one I won't forget for a long time. And I wouldn't change a thing about it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here's to another 40 years!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cheers!</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpy_U8bxs3aPjuTftoVGnLFXxinWpcpGx9DmPPfaH20bNz8iso7AuVhQRomHSnVnhGh-qDQuwZzGWtlfKMrLpKQ3A7hx01I8LThca8NlJmjLMamJEd6sP3ugS-L5w8dh8OF8Q-K9GI1Q/s1600/IMG_4274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="750" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpy_U8bxs3aPjuTftoVGnLFXxinWpcpGx9DmPPfaH20bNz8iso7AuVhQRomHSnVnhGh-qDQuwZzGWtlfKMrLpKQ3A7hx01I8LThca8NlJmjLMamJEd6sP3ugS-L5w8dh8OF8Q-K9GI1Q/s400/IMG_4274.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> *Huge thanks to the RD's Steve Outridge and Michelle Hawk for an awesome and well organized race! And to all the volunteers out there making the journey that much more enjoyable. I highly recommend this event!*</span></b><br />
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<br />Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-9442781782460984922018-09-22T13:32:00.001-07:002018-09-22T19:15:01.165-07:00Monster Inside<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So there I am.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Laying in the fetal position on a cot, on top of the Mogollon Rim.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am shivering uncontrollably while trying to cover myself up with a blanket that's half my size. My microfiber running singlet is now nothing more than a crumbled ball of cloth used for a pillow underneath my head.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My stomach is in knots and I haven't peed in over 12 hours. I twist and turn in search of some comfort. I long for some peace. But like the way I feel inside, I come up empty.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've just been informed by the medical staff on hand, that my race is over. I already knew that, plus to hear that was a spirit-crushing relief. If that makes any sense...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I pull the blanket over my head and hide. I close my eyes tight and wish I were somewhere else. Anywhere else.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I try to ignore what's going on around me. The commotion, the voices. And especially the cheers. The cheers are like little daggers jabbing at my heart. But there's no use.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I listen as Dustin Simoen heads out of the aid station, back on course. He's now in sole possession of first place. Soon after that, another runner is quickly in and out of the aid station.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dustin and I have been battling for the lead the majority of the day. But now <i>my </i>race is over.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I lift my arm up and glance at my Garmin. The seconds continue to tick by...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">16 hours and change, a hair under 74 miles into the adventure.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I take a deep breath and sigh. I stare at my Garmin a few more moments before reaching over with my other hand to press the stop button. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I pull the blanket back over my head and hide.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"It's over..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Earlier that day I woke up feeling pretty damn good. Getting any amount of sleep before a big race is always a gift. It's kinda the cherry on top of a solid training block, if you will.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And it was just that for me, on that particular morning.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I had meticulously set up my pack and drop bags with such OCD like precision, it would make Howie Mandel proud.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Howie Mandel has OCD... Anyway, I digress!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was rested, healthy and mentally prepared to tackle the Mogollon Monster 100.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This would be my third time lining up for the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first time in 2014, the race was shut down midway through due to a nasty storm that slammed the Rim. The following year, I returned and managed second place in my first ever 100 mile finish.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I had learned a lot since then, finishing multiple ultra races along the way. Two of those races were 100 milers. In 2016, I took the overall win at Stagecoach in 17:42. The following year, I took fifth place at the uber competitive Javelina Jundred with a new PR of 16:15.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I had grown up quite a bit and experience in this sport is priceless.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kristi dropped me off at Pine Trailhead around 5:30 in the morning. I gave her a hug goodbye and jumped out of the car.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"See you at the finish!" I yelled with confidence.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That early dawn crispness to the air normally felt before MOG was nonexistent. It was going to be a warm one!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sun quickly rose as we all began lining up at the start.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The star spangled banner was playing as I closed my eyes and thought about the adventure ahead. I pictured it all. The good, the bad and the ugly.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And of course, the glory...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the end, I would trot through the finish line in first place. I would grab that monster statue and hoist it high above my head like the Lombardi Trophy!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tears would come streaming down my face and I would yell out "finally!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What can I say, I keep it dramatic.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All of this was sure to be a reality, just had to run a hundred miles to get there...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And in the words of the great Karl Meltzer "a hundred miles isn't that far."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Time quickly dwindled down and we were off!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Game time!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"This is it..." I told myself. "This is what you've worked for."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A small group of us led the way as we began the first climb up the Mogollon Rim. Eventually I topped out in front, alongside Elijah Flenner. I hadn't planned on being up front this early, but the pace felt relaxed. I made the decision to roll with it.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Elijah and I cruised along the top of the Rim, that early morning race vibe clearly peppered in our step. We chatted away, getting to know each other a bit. We breezed through the first aid station before beginning the steep drop down Turkey Springs.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The views on the descent down Turkey Springs make every one of those loose rocks worth the risk! A thick cluster of pine trees lined the horizon as the sun began to spray golden rays across the mountain range. Thin cloud layers in the distance teased us with short stints of shade, as it began to warm up quickly.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually the two of us bottomed out and cruised up and down some rollers before another runner caught up. In no time the other runner passed us and eventually was out of sight.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"That dude is getting after it!" I shouted to Elijah.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Yeah, let him run his race!" He responded.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That was some sound advice!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Soon we connected with the historic Highline Trail before making our way into the Geronimo aid station, 11 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I traded high fives with some friends volunteering there and chomped down a banana while getting my pack filled up. I felt zapped, but it was legit hot already and I chalked it up to adjusting to the heat.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Between the Zane Grey 50 miler, MOG100 and training runs, I've spent countless hours on the Highline. It's a bitch and I love it. It's got that love/hate relationship quality about it. I am very familiar with it and feel that is an advantage.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I headed out of the aid station in second place.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The stretch of trail from Geronimo to Washington Park is about 9 miles, but it always feels longer than that. I caught glimpses of the lead runner here and there during the first couple miles, but eventually he was no longer in sight. I felt like that was a good thing, as I really settled down.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I never really pushed myself outside of my comfort zone during that stretch, hiking everything that was steep and keeping my heart rate in check... But... I just felt winded.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've run enough races to know that's par for the course and you've got to stay with it and keep grinding. 100 milers in particular are filled with rough patches and I generally hit one around 20 miles.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I got a nice boost as I rolled into the Washington Park aid station at 20 miles. Everyone let me know I was about 5 minutes back of the lead. I ate some food and refueled before heading back out en route to the climb up Powerline.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I approached the base of Powerline, I caught sight of the leader. He was almost to the top. I stopped for a second and caught my breath.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"No need to worry about him, 80 miles to go..." I thought</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So I began the steep climb up Powerline.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is no "running" in this climb. It's way too steep and it's all loose rock. Think of climbing up something stupid steep on a bunch of marbles that are different sizes...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's a gnarly MF'er.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I train on a lot of steep stuff in the mountains that surround Tucson, this kinda thing is right up my ally. But I struggled to find any sort of strength in my legs as I power hiked up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I felt completely exhausted and was gasping for air as I topped out on the Rim.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That wasn't the issue, it's to be expected.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The issue was that my legs were SCREAMING in pain.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I stood there in disbelief. My thighs in particular were really hurting. I was completely shocked.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"What the fuck?" I grumbled. "22 miles in and my legs are destroyed?"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I tried to remind myself that it's a long race and I was sure to bounce back.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But this just felt <i>different.</i></span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next few miles were on a forest road that runs along the edge of the Rim. In 2015, I ran the entire stretch.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Not on this day. I couldn't find any rhythm! I would run a few hundred yards before having to walk. I began to get frustrated. I had trained on a steep forest road in the Catalina Mountains preparing for this very section and I had NOTHING!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My legs were burning with pain and the thought of another 75 miles seemed diabolical.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It felt like an eternity before I finally got to the Houston Brothers aid station and off that dreaded road.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I felt woozy and nauseous as I nibbled a few things and got refueled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"He's only got 5 minutes on you!" One of the volunteers said.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Alright then..." I moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I could hardly talk. I was really hurting, but I figured the next stretch I was sure to find new life.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thanked everyone and headed off to begin the beautiful Cabin Loop section. Single track underneath the shade of tall Ponderosa pines. It's some of the best trail running I've ever experienced and was sure to give me some pep!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I ran at a nice clip from there all the way to the Pinchot Cabin aid station, now about 34 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All that easy running in the shade did nothing for me. My legs were in more pain than ever. I was still nauseous. My attitude was beginning to plummet.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thought about dropping when I got back to Washington Park. Mike Duer was set to pace me from there, so I shook that thought and tried focusing on moving.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I continued to slog along until I made it back to the top of Powerline. I took a quick breather and began to descend the monstrosity.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I can't adequately put into words how painful it was descending that section. My quads felt like they were being put through a meat grinder. My calves decided to join the party and began cramping. I had to alter my normal stride in an attempt to protect myself from the pain.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This was not good!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I began playing out different scenarios of how I would explain why I quit...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"My legs are destroyed, what can I say..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"It's just not my day. We all have bad races..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I'm a loser."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I didn't like any of those.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I don't drop races!" I barked at myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At 42 miles, I rolled into Washington Park without the option of dropping. I was going to fight until I couldn't fight any longer!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh the stupidity...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mike was there to greet me and after a quick break and refuel, we were onto the Highline Trail.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mike is not only a good friend of mine, but he also paced me at both Stagecoach and Javelina Jundred. I consider him kinda my 'ultra wing man'.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Dude, my legs are in so much pain..." I explained to him.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Yeah, once the sun goes down and it cools off, you'll start feeling better." He tried encouraging me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The stretch from Washington Park to Hells Gate was a long 10 miles. Have I mentioned the pain in my legs yet?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well, about that pain... It was getting worse and running at any pace was sheer agony. The frustration was unbearable because the energy to run was there, but the pain was winning the battle. I found some relief by soaking my legs in cool creek water every chance I got. It seemed to allow me about 10 to 15 minutes of sustained running before the pain would inevitably take over again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">About a mile before Hells Gate, I caught up to the leader of the race, Dustin Simoen. We all introduced each other and complained about the dreaded heat. Dustin said he had been struggling and felt overheated.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I got a little spirit after passing him and felt better than I had in a long time. We made a quick stop at Hells Gate aid station and were back on the move.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was slow going on the Highline from that point on. Nothing but loose rocks and completely exposed to the glaring sun above.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Who's idea was this anyway?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That little adrenaline boost I got from taking over the lead was all but a memory as we began the slog up Myrtle.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My strengths became my weakness on that day. My legs seized up several times as we crawled up the trail. Dustin was a few minutes behind, slowly making his way up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Don't let him dictate your race..." Mike told me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Yeah, I know." I mumbled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Deep down I felt like it didn't matter anyway.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mike and I finally topped out and as soon as I began to run on the flat surface, my legs completely locked up in cramps.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I collapsed to the ground, it felt like the muscles in my calves were going to rip right out of my skin!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mike grabbed my legs and stretched them out and the cramps subsided.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What a guy!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next few miles were gradual downhill along a forest road. I managed to find a rhythm and ran that entire stretch to Buck Springs aid station at 58 miles.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I forced some food down my throat as one of the volunteers tried having a conversation with me. Talking took too much energy, so I said little. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The sun was setting and it was finally nice out. Unfortunately, that didn't matter.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">From Buck Spring to the next aid station at Pinchot Cabin, everything went to hell.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I could hardly eat. I was drinking next to nothing. Running down hill was excruciating. Running up hill was impossible. The pain was constant. Every step was torture.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My demeanor took a nose dive.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I just don't think I can continue feeling like this..." I moaned to Mike.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I understand, but you are still moving well. You're in the lead!" He told me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mike was doing his best to keep me positive and I love the guy for that, but I knew that I couldn't go much longer. I realized there wasn't going to be a "bounce back" this time.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I began to go inward. Into my mind. I went ahead and welcomed in the darkness. I surrendered. There was nothing that could stop it.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"You shouldn't do this stupid shit anymore..." I sadly thought.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eventually we made it to Pinchot Cabin aid station, 67 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I choked down a cup of ramen noodle soup and thought about my day. I thought about why I fell apart so early. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thought about what I would tell Kristi and what everyone would think of me now that I am a quitter.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thought about all the times I said I would never drop a race in an inconvenient place. I thought about why I do this stupid sport. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Somehow Mike convinced me to give the next stretch to Houston Brothers a shot. I don't know how he did it, I really don't. Maybe just to extend this story. Who knows...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But somehow I continued and so did the punishment. It only got uglier. At one point, I tripped over my own feet and fell to the ground.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Fuck man!" I cried, laying there on a pile of rocks. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> "What the hell...?" I moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was demoralizing.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dustin squeezed pass me right before Houston Brother aid station. He was met with cheers and high fives.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I didn't want anyone to see me. I just wanted to disappear.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I came staggering up to the aid station cloaked in self despair.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Need anything?" a volunteer asked.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"I just want to lay down." I said. "I need a place to lay down..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My race ended right there. Laying in the fetal position on a cot, on top of the Mogollon Rim.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But this is not a bad ending. I am alive and well. And besides some sore twigs and a toenail that's not going to survive, I am in good health.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was a wild adventure!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've had a little time to process it and work through the depression, the frustration and the confusion.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've come to the conclusion that I'll never know why my body decided to betray me that day.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've had many great races, maybe I was due? This sport is about pushing yourself to reach new limits and I definitely achieved that.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Without a doubt, those last 20 miles were the most difficult, painful, humbling miles I've ever traveled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am stronger because of that.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thank you, Mike, for helping me discover more about myself and what I'm capable of. I was in the gutter and unpleasant for a good chunk of our time together, you are a true friend for helping me continue for so long...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even when I hated you for it!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I want to thank all the volunteers and congratulate everyone out there that battled the monster. Whether you finished or not, or if you came in first place or DFL. Respect. This stuff isn't for the weak.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'll be back because lord knows how much I love this stupid sport!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Until next time...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br></span>
<span id="goog_1845852109"></span><br>
<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Jamil Coury</td></tr>
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<br>Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-2777130619511301092018-03-09T10:08:00.016-08:002018-03-10T07:29:01.416-08:001 Year<p>One year has passed.</p>
<p>12 months.</p>
<p>52 weeks.</p>
<p>365 days.</p>
<p>8,760 hours.</p>
<p>525,600 minutes.</p>
<p>31,536,000 seconds and counting...</p>
<p>I miss you each and every day. These feelings are permanent, forever they’ll stay.</p>
<p>I still look to you for guidance and direction for life.</p>
<p>Sometimes these feelings, they cut like a knife.</p>
<p>I often think of the good times, when you were still here.</p>
<p>You would give me your insight, squashing my fears.</p>
<p>We’d sit there and banter and talk about sports.</p>
<p>We’d complain about the Sixers and who they'd put on the court.</p>
<p>“They call this the process? You’re outta your mind!”</p>
<p>“These players are bums! Is this all Hinkie can find?”</p>
<p>“How ‘bout those Phillies, they’ve been rebuilding for years.”</p>
<p>“Still reliving the moments from those championship cheers.”</p>
<p>“And the Philadelphia Eagles, still Super Bowl dry.” ( * )</p>
<p>“So many damn ring jokes, it makes a man cry...”</p>
<p>In my darkest of moments, you always found light.</p>
<p>As much as I hurt, you were there to help fight.</p>
<p>I ache for those moments, you were there by my side.</p>
<p>I’ll never fully recover, something’s missing inside.</p>
<p>I still use your ideas and words of advice.</p>
<p>As simple as pizza, the “hot bubbly slice.”</p>
<p>“Just hot enough to burn the roof of your mouth" You'd say, "that is the best...”</p>
<p>The man was a genius, he lived with such zest.</p>
<p>Your life skills are useful, I embrace them with pride.</p>
<p>Living each day trying to mirror your vision and stride.</p>
<p>When I get home, I put on my hoodie & sweats.</p>
<p>These moments I savor, they are the best.</p>
<p>I kick back the footrest and relax in a chair. I hear your voice loudly...</p>
<p>“It’s time for lounge wear!”</p>
<p>No matter how many months, weeks, days, hours, minutes or seconds pass, these memories are forever sealed in my heart.</p>
<p>No one can take them or rip them apart.</p>
<p>You were here and then gone, in the blink of an eye.</p>
<p>Leaving question so complicated, yet as simple as “why?”</p>
<p>One year down and a lifetime to go.</p>
<p>You are truly missed, Dad.</p>
<p>That much I know.</p>
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* The Philadelphia Eagles would go on to win Super Bowl LII.</p>
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That ring is for you, DAD!!</div>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad "showing me the ropes" ~Thanksgiving (2016)</td>
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If you are interested in poetry, check out my Father’s book ‘Adobe Road'</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> ~WINNER 2016 GOLD MEDAL Independent Publisher Award (IPPY) </span></div>
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https://www.amazon.com/Adobe-Road-R-Lupowitz/dp/1631877240</div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-85220809487902823192018-02-21T11:33:00.052-08:002018-02-26T10:01:56.521-08:002018 Black Canyon 100K <p>The Black Canyon 100K.</p>
<p>You tantalize me with your screaming downhills and beautiful sunrise. You tempt me with your buttery trails sprayed golden brown in the morning dew. Your cool air caresses my face and tingles my nose. Your magnificent views make me crave more. My heart flutters.</p>
<p>I get lost in your presence...</p>
<p>As soon as I think we are meant for each other, you turn your back on me. Your swift downhills turn into rocky climbs. Your sunrise becomes just a raging ball of fire, searing each step. The morning dew all but dries up and wilts everything alive. Your amazing views nothing but an endless trail of torture. </p>
<p>And that cool air...just a distant memory of the ‘good ole days...’</p>
<p>The Black Canyon 100K is a cruel bitch.</p>
<p>And I have been abused by her in both 2015 & 2016.</p>
<p>Twice. Two times. Dos veces.</p>
<p>Like they say “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me”.</p>
<p>I promised myself that I was done with that abusive monster following the race in 2016. For the second year in a row, I fell under her trance, sucked in by her beauty. Around 40 miles into our dance, she turned on me. Again.</p>
<p>In virtually the very same spot as the year prior, I was dealt with cramps that would kill a small child. And these weren’t your normal run-of-the-mill cramps either. Oh no, no, no. Like Elaine trying to dance in Seinfeld, these cramps were like a “full body dry heave.”</p>
<p>It was demoralizing having those races crumble apart in consecutive years. I’m too good for this shit, I’ve got a self esteem for God sakes. And a reputation to protect, I might add.</p>
<p>I wanted nothing to do with that two-faced diva...</p>
<p>I was done!</p>
<p>I stuck to my word and skipped our date in 2017. Turns out that was a good decision, as she was in a particularly foul mood that day.</p>
<p>But as 2018 rolled around, I again became fixated on her. It’s like the common story of the abused returning to the abuser. She was holding something that I wanted and just maybe I had a shot at winning her over...</p>
<p>Chances were very slim, but I wanted to take my shot at the coveted “Golden Ticket”. The top two female and male finishers win entry into the historic Western States 100. My buddy, Charlie Ware, had just secured his ticket with a 2nd place finish at the Sean O’Brian 100K. His second Golden Ticket achieved in three years. Bad ass pirate, that guy.</p>
<p>I had a lot of doubt, it was a deep field and Black Canyon hates my life.</p>
<p>“Maybe I’ll just be conservative outta the gate, and finish the race strong...” I told Kristi, “I probably have zero chance of keeping up with those guys anyway.”</p>
<p>“That’s bull, you can do it...” She wasn’t having it. “Go for it, if you blow up, you blow up.”</p>
<p>I really wanted to join Charlie and in order for that to be a possibility, I had to take a risk.</p>
<p>“What the hell, I’m going to do it!” I decided.</p>
<p>What’s life without a little risk? Grow a pair for heaven sakes!</p>
<p>So two weeks out, I made us reservations.</p>
<p>I was going on another rendezvous with that cruel bitch...</p>
<p>Black Canyon is a point to point race that begins in Spring Valley and ends in New River some 62 miles later (it’s actually closer to 63 but who’s counting). Although it’s a net downhill, it doesn’t feel that way. It still boasts around 7,000 feet of gain, the majority of that being in latter stages of the race. The whole ‘net downhill’ thing is very misleading...</p>
<p>She’s so malevolent.</p>
<p>So Kristi and I headed out to our favorite place to stay just minutes away from that start of the race. The place is our secret and I choose not to disclose any more information than that. Don’t ask. After sleeping incredibly well we made our way to the start of the race at Mayer High School. Sleeping well before a race is unusual for me, so things were already off to a marvelous start.</p>
<p>Also in the “marvelous” category, today’s weather was looking to be pretty nice with a high in the mid 70s.</p>
<p>After slapping on my bib and doing a warm up to get the blood flowing, I lined up at the start. I stood up front with some of the best ultra runners in America flanking each side of me. I thought about the adventure ahead...</p>
<p>“You belong up front, you can hang with these dudes...” I told myself. “Don’t sell yourself short!”<br><br>After a quick countdown, around 400 looney ultra runners took off in pursuit of New River!</p>
<p>“Let’s go!” I shouted!</p>
<p>We rounded the track, hit the pavement and headed through town towards the Black Canyon trail. I stayed with the lead pack, which was about 10 to 12 of us. </p>
<p>The pack included, Tim Frericks, Zach Bitter and Eric Senseman. Three of the top ultra runners around.</p>
<p>“You belong up here...” I reminded myself.</p>
<p>Around two and a half miles into the race, we hung a left onto BC trail. </p>
<p>The trail doesn’t waste much time before turning into single track. I kept the leaders in sight for the next few miles before finally settling in near the tail-end of top 10.</p>
<p>Like I spoke about before, she quickly began her seduction.</p>
<p>The sunrise began, painting the desert with brilliant golden rays. The air was crisp and cool and had that dewy fragrance you only find early in the morning.</p>
<p>I watched Frericks and Senseman pull away from everyone and soon they disappeared.</p>
<p>I had been running around 6:30 pace, so I can’t imagine what they were throwing down. I was going hard, but that was suicide pace.</p>
<p>I felt really good and was in and out of Antelope Mesa aid station around 7 miles into the race. I left on the heels of Zach Bitter.</p>
<p>The two of us took advantage of the screaming downhill single track, strategically placed there early in the race. We were flying down the switchbacks, I was lost in her spell!</p>
<p>Crazy thing is, as fast as we were running, some dude just breezed by us. Looked like he was on a casual run, just floating along the trail.</p>
<p>“Ah c’mon, this guy is gonna blow up...” I mumbled under my breath.</p>
<p>Zach and I spent a couple miles together chopping it up and I must say that as good a runner Zach is, he is equally that of a person. Class act. Like the old saying goes “humility is a virtue”.</p>
<p>Soon Zach pulled away and I found myself trotting along the trail with another runner.</p>
<p>“I gotta settle down..” he said to me.</p>
<p>“Same.” I replied.</p>
<p>For the next several miles I got to know Neal Collick.</p>
<p>Normally you’d find Neal running around the shores of Lake Superior and word has it, it’s been pretty damn cold out that way. Today the weather was supposed to be pretty nice, but even 75 degrees in the sun combined with running for hours can wear on you. Especially if you aren’t used to the heat.</p>
<p>Both of us seemed to back off a bit and for the first time, I was feeling a little worked.</p>
<p>“Damn, did you already over do it?” I began to question my strategy. “10 miles into the race and I’m feeling zapped. Not good...”</p>
<p>All races have rough patches, but this was really early.</p>
<p>Both Neal and I backed off on the pace and soon a pack of other runners came galloping up behind us.</p>
<p>The group included, Adam Doe, Andy Pearson and Benjamin Stern.</p>
<p>I’ve shared some miles with Andy in at least one other race, he’s definitely a talented runner.</p>
<p>All of us rolled into Bumble Bee aid station about 19 miles in.</p>
<p>I grabbed some more Honey Stingers from my drop bag, refilled my water bottle, stuffed a peanut butter and jelly in my mouth and took off.</p>
<p>It was getting warmer.</p>
<p>As soon as I hit the trail, I saw Andy up ahead. I pushed on the gas and caught up.</p>
<p>I continued drafting off him and sometime after Gloria Mine aid, another runner caught up to us. This guy was on fire!</p>
<p>I quickly pulled off the trail and let him pass.</p>
<p>“By all means man, go crush it...” I said.</p>
<p>“It’s not a running race, it’s a eating race! He shouted as he blew by me.</p>
<p>I eventually met him, super nice guy by the name of Fernando De Samaniego Steta... Big name and an even bigger personality.</p>
<p>I watched him catch up with Andy and they began to pull further away from me.</p>
<p>“Let ‘em beat each other up, I’ll pick up the carnage...” I told myself. “I’ll pass ‘em both by the end of the race...”</p>
<p>The next stretch included passing Eric Senseman and some other dude around 25 miles in, having a girl fly by me and feeling my energy level plummet like the stock market in ‘87.</p>
<p>I felt absolutely blitzed as I rolled into Soap Creek aid at about the 50K mark on the tail of Andy and Fernando with Benjamin right behind.</p>
<p>And that girl...</p>
<p>She. Was. Gone.</p>
<p>I refueled and stuffed another stale PB&J down my throat.</p>
<p>I looked over at Andy... “Chicked.”</p>
<p>We both laughed under our breath, with a hint of desperation peppered in.</p>
<p>Andy took off with Fernando right behind him. I fumbled around with a cup of ginger ale before chucking it in the trash and heading back out.</p>
<p>Almost immediately I caught up with Fernando who was staggering along. I passed by him and wished him luck. </p>
<p>That was the last I saw of ole Fernando...</p>
<p>Andy had disappeared but I heard the pitter-patter of steps coming up on my rear. It was Benjamin, chugging along right behind me.</p>
<p>I was really beginning to feel overheated and nauseous. Kristi was awaiting me at the next aid station in Black Canyon City some 6 miles away. I had my pack there, I knew I would need more water on me as the race progressed. The problem was, I was sucking down the water I had from my single handheld at an alarming rate.</p>
<p>“Ah, fuck. I’m gonna run out of water. How can I make such a rookie mistake? This is a disaster...”</p>
<p>The old behavior was back in full force, she began her abusive ways.</p>
<p>I made my best effort to conserve, but once you get to that point, there’s no hope. I was keeping Benjamin at bay, always a few steps ahead of him.</p>
<p>“Screw it, I can just drop at Black Canyon City...” I moaned. “I over did it early. I knew it!”<br><br>My demeanor took a nose dive, as did my water supply.</p>
<p>“Idiot.”</p>
<p>Soon the two of us began a descent into a river bed. There was a small amount of water flowing and I saw Jamil on the other side filming us.</p>
<p>I stumbled across the water, dizzy and dazed.</p>
<p>“You think this water is ok to drink?” I asked Jamil.</p>
<p>“I’m just a fly on the wall” was his response. Well played, Jamil.<br><br>“You want a sip of mine?” Benjamin offered. What a guy!</p>
<p>“Nah, screw it. I’ll drink from here...” I said while bending down to fill my bottle with the brown river water.</p>
<p>What’s life without a little risk?</p>
<p>Benjamin took off ahead of me and I trailed along. We began a climb up multiple switchbacks.</p>
<p>“This water tastes pretty good, actually...” I quipped.</p>
<p>“It does?” He replied surprisingly.</p>
<p>“No man, it’s awful and has a really weird after taste...”</p>
<p>And man, was it BAD.</p>
<p>After zigzagging up a million switchbacks, we topped out and the view of Black Canyon City aid was within sight!</p>
<p>We began the descent and I quickly pulled ahead of Benjamin.</p>
<p>“I gotta get some water man!”</p>
<p>I hammered the drop and soon made my way into the aid station a little over 37 miles into the race.<br><br>Kristi had my pack and everything ready for me. I grabbed a gallon of water and began gulping it down like a barbarian.</p>
<p>“How’s it going babe?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Ah not bad, just had to drink river water is all. What wrong with a little giardia?!” I yelped.</p>
<p>I found that funnier than everyone else...</p>
<p>As shitty as I felt, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I chomped down my 17th peanut butter and jelly of the day, gave Kristi a hug and stumbled on my way.</p>
<p>I wasn’t going to fold that easily!</p>
<p>Kristi let me know that I was now in 6th place, the golden ticket was slipping away and so was my energy.</p>
<p>The next stretch ahead is seared into my mind. It’s over two miles of climbing and it’s the stretch that has destroyed me TWO TIMES IN A ROW!</p>
<p>And wouldn’t you know, as I began the climb that sneaky monster began working her magic.<br><br>I could sense my legs tighten up, the first sign of cramping.</p>
<p>“Oh God, not the friggin cramps again...” I whined.</p>
<p>I don’t care what anyone else says about how nice it was out, it was hot as balls as I staggered up the trail! Soon I saw Andy up ahead of me. I wasn’t moving very fast and he disappeared into the hills ahead.</p>
<p>“This trail just loves to beat you up!” I cried. “Black Canyon, you bitch.”</p>
<p>She was beginning to wring out my insides as well. I chomped down some tums and dry heaved.<br><br>Nausea was moving in and making itself a new home in my stomach.</p>
<p>“This trail and me just don’t work together, every single time...” My attitude hit the basement.</p>
<p>I was like a disgruntled ultra runner with Tourette’s spewing out complaints uncontrollably as I ran angry up the trail. Lost in a trance of negativity and...</p>
<p>BAM!</p>
<p>I went tumbling headfirst down the trail.</p>
<p>There I was, laying in the fetal position on the rocky trail. Bloody and battered.<br>I moaned and rolled onto my back, staring up, into oblivion.<br></p>
<p>“What did you expect?” I muttered as I peeled myself off the ground and began running.<br><br>As deathly horrible as I was feeling, I was able to keep grinding away. Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Andy.</p>
<p>It felt like eternity had passed by the time I finished that climb.</p>
<p>I stood for a moment catching my breath before continuing on.</p>
<p>I felt like complete garbage. Everything hurt. My attitude was horrendous. My insides were playing their own personal game of twister. The worst. But I kept grinding away and for the first time in over 20 miles I had a positive thought...</p>
<p>I knew I was going to finish this race and I was going to finish this race strong.</p>
<p>“Let’s finish strong!” I barked.</p>
<p>From that moment, I was running angry. She wasn’t going to ruin my day this time!</p>
<p>I made a brief stop to refuel at Cotton Wood Gulch aid, just over 46 miles into this monstrosity. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t ask, but I think I saw Andy leaving as I arrived.</p>
<p>I was beyond nauseous as I stuffed yet another peanut butter and whatever into my mouth.</p>
<p>I couldn’t even chew it up, it felt like cardboard. I staggered ahead and as soon as I was out of sight, I collapsed to my knees and let loose...</p>
<p>I’ll do you all a favor and leave out the gory details. But in the end, I continued on a few pounds lighter...</p>
<p>I kept running despite all of the abuse, even setting a new 50 mile PR of 7:06 before arriving at Table Mesa aid. Andy was just leaving as I arrived.</p>
<p>“Got em” I said under my breath.</p>
<p>I stumbled around at the aid station, feeling like death. I think Kristi iced me down, but can’t confirm. And to whomever was filming me, I apologize for the menacing expression I was sporting. Please don’t release that footage!!</p>
<p>I staggered off again, this was the homestretch.</p>
<p>It’s another good climb after Table Mesa. I complained to myself about the multiple gun shots I heard, the bazillion rocks on the trail, that the whole ‘net downhill’ thing is a lie. And yet, I continued on.</p>
<p>I felt myself get stronger during the climb out of there. Soon I saw Andy and caught up.</p>
<p>“Lots of climbing...” I said as I passed by.</p>
<p>“My entire lower body is like one huge cramp...” He moaned.</p>
<p>“I know the feeling. It’s happened to me in this race. Twice!”</p>
<p>After I passed Andy, I found new life.</p>
<p>I rattled off mile after mile, with only the finish line in sight.</p>
<p>I made a quick stop at Doe Springs, the last aid station of the race. I joked around with the volunteers and headed out for the last 5k.</p>
<p>Those last few were painful. I just put my head down and pushed ahead. My ultimate goal was to get that ticket, but anything under 9:30 was a tremendous improvement. That was well within striking distance.</p>
<p>I saw the finish ahead and hammered away!</p>
<p>I crossed the finish line in 5th place with a time of 9:15.</p>
<p>While short of the ultimate goal, I cannot help but be extremely happy. I’m heading in the right direction. I continue to learn and grow. This sport is an endless supply of humility.</p>
<p>And I love it.</p>
<p>I won this round!</p>
<p>Another outstanding event put on by Aravaipa Running, it’s a absolute honor to represent!</p>
<p>Thanks for the support, Aravaipa Running, Honey Stinger, BioSkin, Squirrels Nut Butter, rabbit and most of all, Kristi. </p>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWr-YFF7kX7vMpTmOz2uz34ROJfqut-LimojSUb5sFUqX_joP5j-5O7p30LRllQrW__Olvyg8vXMZrTsA-p35MBBlPv0tInSNaLEp6okso3etjrd6HJRXyLTsIGv5LPCgUkF1smbeJJA/s1600/IMG_0742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWr-YFF7kX7vMpTmOz2uz34ROJfqut-LimojSUb5sFUqX_joP5j-5O7p30LRllQrW__Olvyg8vXMZrTsA-p35MBBlPv0tInSNaLEp6okso3etjrd6HJRXyLTsIGv5LPCgUkF1smbeJJA/s400/IMG_0742.JPG" width="400"></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;">(No Caption Necessary)<br>Howie Stern Photography</span></i></b></td>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-42495990839979005612018-02-15T16:28:00.017-08:002018-02-20T18:44:17.194-08:00Write Now<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span id="goog_2008672601"></span><span id="goog_2008672602"></span>Write now... Right now!
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I used to write a lot. Mostly about running and racing. About all my wild adventures through the mountains. About the highs and lows running takes me through. Literally and figuratively. I mean, it just flowed out of my head and through my fingertips...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A story was told.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Now, I sit here sore from running the Black Canyon 100K trying to muster up some creativity. Another crazy adventure with the highest of highs and some lows that would rattle the bones of a scarecrow. One of my greatest races ever and yet, I’m unable to find the words...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It’s just been so...<i>hard.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My life changed a year ago.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A phone call to my mother. And just like that, everything was different.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My father was sick.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I knew from the moment I heard the news that my dad hadn’t been feeling well, things were about to change. Always one of the healthiest people on the planet and the rock of our family. How could it be?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We all hoped for the best, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut. A twisting pain settled inside my stomach and made itself at home.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next few weeks following that phone call are a blur.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kristi and I flew out to New Mexico to visit my parents. I spent three days hanging out with my dad. I did my best not to break, sometimes sneaking off into a bedroom to cry. My dad was withering away.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was as if my dad had been replaced with somebody else. Switched in the middle of the night, while no one was watching.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">His slow shuffle through the house and the sound of his slippers dragging along the tile floor was heartbreaking.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Whoosh whoosh whoosh... </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You’ll be alright, dad. Just need some rest.” I said.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Maybe you’re right, but if not, I’ll see you on the other side...” He told me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’ve never felt so helpless and empty as I did during that visit. My mom was doing her best to hold everything together and keep a positive attitude. My mother is one of the strongest people on earth.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Why was this happening? What in Gods name was happening to my dad?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He doesn’t deserve this! This is total bullshit!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Everything was so different. While it remained unspoken during that visit, I think we all knew it was never going to be the same.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some pills are tougher to swallow than others. This one was near suffocating.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Those three days were so incredibly long, yet gone in the blink of an eye.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Before heading back to Tucson, I hugged my father good bye. He put his hand around my head, pulled it close and whispered in my ear “I love you, Sion.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I still hear that whisper clear as day. As if it was spoken just moments ago.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think of that hug often.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The following weekend I raced the Old Pueblo 50 Miler for the fourth time. I spent eight hours running around the Santa Rita mountains, embracing the suffering. Trying to numb the pain. I prayed for my father, for my family.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Why?” I asked myself over and over.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Why the hell is this happening?” I cried. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tears streaming down my face, one foot in front of the other. I cursed the universe and God. Up and down the trails I went. Floating along almost aimlessly. Like everything else during that time, that race was just a blur. Some eight hours of running, done in the blink of an eye.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I finished the race in 1st place.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“That’s for my dad.” I moaned to Kristi as I collapsed at the finish line.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the way home, I called my father.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“This race was for you dad, every last step. All for you. I love you.” I told him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I love you too, Sion...” His voice was so distant and weak.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That would be the last time I spoke to my father.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My uncle Jeff called to give me the news. As soon as I saw who was calling, I already knew.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My world came crashing in. I felt robbed of life as I knew it. This wasn’t fair!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My best friend.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My mentor.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My guide.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My hero.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My father.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So suddenly taken away from me. Taken away from <i>us. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Emptiness replaced my joy. Dark and hollow. A search for answers to a problem that could not be solved.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was a painful realization.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Days bled into weeks and then months. Sleepless nights and terrible nightmares. Dreams of the days before everything changed, only to wake up to my new reality.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The pain is so acute at times and it comes in waves. It washes over you suddenly and unexpectedly. Choking back tears becomes normal. That lump in your throat, almost permanent. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Grieving isn’t for the weak.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Slowly I’ve allowed myself to heal and I’ve found joy in bits and pieces.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Over the last year, so much has changed. My mom now lives in Florida, leaving only our memories in New Mexico. I often reflect on my childhood in Corrales. Our road trips as a family and the last jelly donut my dad always managed to snag from that gas station as we made our way into Colorado.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think about watching Philly sports with him and always getting too emotional when they lost.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s only a game, Sion.” He would remind me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I blame him for my passion.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think about my dads unique sarcasm and wit. I think about his words of advice and love for life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think of the countless thousands of people he helped heal as a Chiropractor. He was a pillar of the community and loved by so many.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He was so selfless and humble.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And his laugh. I’ll never forget his infectious laugh.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My dad loved my stories. He loved to read about those wild running adventures I once shared so easily.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He would call me after reading one of my race write-ups and rave about how much he enjoyed it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Incredible story, bud! You are amazing! You are world class.” He would tell me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I miss him so very much.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It’s been a year, and I owe it to him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Stay tuned... </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <b><i>This Is Dedicated To My Father, Robert Alan Lupowitz </i></b></span><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">12/20/1950 - 3/10/2017</span></i></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZlTwIZtJGxtkZnWz50ouJveAfDXOw-yjACQyJI7bfHXBAt9OET5dBiyN6b18DRVcrx_KbSQgw7_r1zUyHgDZtCIDURfdMnzvQtQreAI_5TWkZk0VnvvSGe4SQee803feqaFAkYzPMg/s1600/15589604_10209308755010453_7207926515880240741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZlTwIZtJGxtkZnWz50ouJveAfDXOw-yjACQyJI7bfHXBAt9OET5dBiyN6b18DRVcrx_KbSQgw7_r1zUyHgDZtCIDURfdMnzvQtQreAI_5TWkZk0VnvvSGe4SQee803feqaFAkYzPMg/s320/15589604_10209308755010453_7207926515880240741_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mom, Dad & My Sister Ariana</span></b></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2017 Old Pueblo 50 Miler - Steep Life 089</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> (Video Courtesy of Jamil Coury and Run Steep TV)</span></b><br />
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<br />Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-80401456922155849642017-04-07T15:38:00.003-07:002017-04-09T21:51:25.322-07:00Dad<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If somebody were to ask me what I thought about when looking back to my childhood, a quick image comes flooding into my head...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tossing the baseball back and forth with my Dad in the backyard of the house I grew up in, on Corrales Road. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My dream as a kid was to show him that I would indeed play for the Philadelphia Phillies!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Both he and I knowing, that wasn't much of a possibility.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't recall very many occasions that my Dad didn't meet my latest 'moment of zen' with as much enthusiasm as me. I will add that when he didn't agree, he let that be known too...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Dad always proclaimed that we were the greatest Philly sports fans west of the Mississippi!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To this day, I wear that badge with great pride. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Both of my parents grew up in Levittown, Pennsylvania, a suburb outside of Philadelphia. After falling in love and getting married, they craved adventure.</span><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Together they left the East Coast for Taos, where I was born, eventually settling in the small village in New Mexico known as Corrales. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was in that small town that my parents, Robert and Linda Lupowitz, would raise their three children. My older sister, Ariana, myself and my younger brother, Max, rounding out the trio.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Watching my parents build my fathers Chiropractic practice is something I will cherish for a lifetime. A small office that once sat in the front room of that house on Corrales Road quickly grew into a thriving practice that was known far and wide.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People loved my Dad. My Dad was a healer, a pillar of the community.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My father healed countless thousands through his life's work as a Chiropractor. And countless people loved and revered him. People were drawn to him. His spirit was contagious. His courage, inspiring. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The thing about my Dad is that he had a passion for living life with such integrity. It was something that he demanded of himself.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am convinced that the term "He wears his heart on his sleeve" was intended for my Dad.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My father once told me that he was sickened to tell a lie... He explained to me that the times he was put in a position to lie, it literally made him ill.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I always loved him and looked up to him, even when our relationship was strained.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I always wanted to be like my Dad.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I won't attempt to tie a bow around the struggles I created during my twenties. I admit, I wasn't exactly walking the line...</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Dad never gave up, though.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The man always seemed to seek out the positive!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His determination helped pave the way for me to find the wonderful life I live today. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His love continued to grow on me and eventually not only was he my father, he was also my best friend.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss his face, his laugh, his wit, his humor, his smile.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss his love.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My father gave every last ounce of courage to those around him. I can only strive to live my life with such grace and dignity. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like my Dad always said, remember to leave with words that heal not wound, you never know when you might not see someone again. And say I love you, it never hurts. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will always cherish the moments we shared. Forever sealed inside my heart.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you, Dad. </span><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiylSKXpG_A32PjNWDSzdHgXwSQeXdClgq9se4FahpCzTZDYqWB9MfxT4WXHVpauDvyn3FqeUQt321jIZrcQmXdM3V6bSGlIotdn_ET5LS9ROUdCchYVa2tI3-96rl5Dese0fzl0DS3Bw/s1600/17201457_10212626617848304_3177752412031229315_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiylSKXpG_A32PjNWDSzdHgXwSQeXdClgq9se4FahpCzTZDYqWB9MfxT4WXHVpauDvyn3FqeUQt321jIZrcQmXdM3V6bSGlIotdn_ET5LS9ROUdCchYVa2tI3-96rl5Dese0fzl0DS3Bw/s320/17201457_10212626617848304_3177752412031229315_n.jpg" width="320"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In Loving Memory Of My Father</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Robert Alan Lupowitz</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">12/20/1950 - 3/10/2017</span></i></b></div>
<br></div>Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-43196255546980640062016-10-01T12:20:00.000-07:002016-10-02T09:47:12.611-07:00Stagecoach 100<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">2015 was a success and topping it was sure to be a task.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I managed to tag the summit of <a href="http://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/arizona/blacketts-ridge">Blackett's Ridge</a> 100 times, had a handful of solid races, ran more miles and climbed higher than ever before.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But most importantly, I finished a 100 mile race.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I finally obtained the 100 mile buckle I had so desperately desired. I finished the <a href="http://www.mogollonmonster100.com/">Mogollon Monster 100</a> in <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2015/10/mogollon-monster-2015.html">second place </a>with a time of 26:05, thus proving to myself that I am indeed capable of running 100 miles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Twenty six hours is a long time to run. But in all honesty, a lot of that time wasn't actually spent running, but rather hiking. Sure, I ran as much of that gnarly course as I could, but large chunks of it simply aren't runnable! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While the 100 mile monkey was off my back, I was left wondering what I am really capable of in regards to <i>running </i>100 miles.. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Could you really run a hundred miles?" I asked myself over and over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"No, you'll cramp up. You'll burn out. You'll blow up.." I discouragingly thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You are a mountain runner.. Better off doing races with lots of climbing, that's what you're good at.." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Despite all of my reservations, I needed to know. And I had the perfect race in mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.aztrail.org/ultrarun/">Flagstaff to Grand Canyon Stagecoach Line 100 Miler</a> seemed to fit all of the criteria. An entirely runnable point to point course that takes you from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon. Mostly along the AZ Trail and Forest Roads, the course has around 7,000 feet of total gain and has a net downhill.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The race director, Ian Torrance, also happens to be a teammate of mine on the <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/team-aravaipa/">Aravaipa Racing Team</a>. Ian is nothing short of an ultra running legend. He has been a part of the sport since the beginning and when I told him I wanted to do his race, he was ecstatic. I, on the other hand, was terrified...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"There is no turning back now!!" I cried after registering for the race. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I decided to back off on doing a bunch of races, instead I directed my focus on Stagecoach. I am a race junky, so that wasn't easy! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I knew this was going to be the biggest challenge of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My original plan was to implement a lot of long flat runs into my training, but I don't like long flat runs! Pavement is made for cars, not runners.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After a few boring flat runs in the blistering heat, I decided that this wasn't going to work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Fuck it, I am going to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Lemmon">Mount Lemmon</a>!" I proclaimed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And so I did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I spent countless hours running all over the top of the Santa Catalina mountains. I embraced the thin air and lack of oxygen. I learned to be comfortable being uncomfortable. I literally made Lemmon my second home! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Training went as smooth as butter until about a month before the race. Almost too smooth.. I was more fit than I had ever been in my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And then the wheels came off! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Should I have expected anything else?? I mean, that would be too easy and there is nothing easy about ultra running! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I'll save you from the gruesome details of what I experienced that last month leading up to the race, but I will say that in terms of training, it was the most painful and demoralizing series of events I've ever experienced. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I even managed to throw my back out pretending I was Dwyane Wade while heaving a ball of dirty laundry into the hamper!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I can run up and down sketchy mountain trails and I'm fine, but I get injured tossing laundry.." I moaned. "Maybe this race isn't in the cards."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Like the laundry I tossed in the hamper, I was on the verge of throwing in the towel. Everything was going against me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Despite all the adversity, I couldn't pull the plug. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Just go give it a shot..." I convinced myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">What's life without a little risk?! While the decision was potentially a major mistake, the chance that I may miss a great adventure was enough to make it worth the risk!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wrapped up my training on a high note, smashing a previous PR on a run I've done many times. The hay was stacked and I was chomping at the bit! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My buddy, Michael Duer, was set to pace me for the last 32 miles. Mike had just paced Ronni Rudolphi to a win and CR at MOG the week prior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Maybe he'll be two for two.." I daydreamed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After a few easy shakeout runs the week of the race, Kristi and I packed enough stuff into our car to begin a new life and headed to Flag! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Without a hitch, we arrived in Flagstaff and checked into our hotel. A trip out to grab dinner and pick up a few last minute essentials allowed us to experience the madness that is "Parents Week" at NAU. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After we had the pleasure of dealing with 'Flagstaff Family Feud', we settled into our hotel for the night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As per usual, I barely slept a wink. Instead spent the night tossing and turning, playing out various outcomes of the race in my head. Like a kid on Christmas eve, I watched the minutes tick by...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The barking of my alarm jolted me out of the only decent sleep I had of the night. I pried myself out of bed and the two of us began getting our stuff in order.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You're gonna run a hundred miles today." I said, laughing to myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It always sounds like a good idea until you <i>actually </i>have to run 100 miles! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We arrived at the start of the race with about 30 minutes to spare. My buddy, Catlow Shipek, was there to race the 55K, in what would be his first race in a long time. Catlow had been sidelined with an injury and it was awesome to see him back where he belongs! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It was cold and breezy. The sun was rising, spraying golden rays across the majestic San Fransisco Peaks. It was simply beautiful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Time quickly dwindled down as my nerves spiked up. Ian gave the pre-race instructions and we all lined up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I gave Kristi a hug goodbye and made my way to the front of the pack. Kristi was going to be meeting me at several aid stations along the way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All the days, the weeks, the months spent training are now put to the test. The countless hours spent suffering, the pain, the joy, the frustration. It all boils down to this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The all too familiar countdown ensued and the adventure was underway!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Time to make that money!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It was interesting to have the 55K start with the 100 milers. I made sure to not get sucked into the fast pace and settled into a nice easy rhythm. Lots of runners pulled ahead of me. I had no idea which ones were in the 55K or the 100 miler, and I didn't care. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I went into the race with a goal of going under 19 hours. Not knowing how my body would handle the flatness of the course and the long period of sustained running, I would be happy with anything under 20 hours. Lastly, just finishing would be a success! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The initial climb on single track that wrapped around the base of Mount Humphreys was spectacular. Morning dew coated the ground and the faint smell of rain infused the air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I made sure not to allow my heart rate to go up, occasionally hiking steep sections. Following about five miles of climbing, I enjoyed a swift descent that eventually spit us out onto a forest road. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Tall ponderosa pines flanked each side of me, sending out words of encouragement. I made my way to the first aid station of the day at Hart Prairie, 10.5 miles into the race. I nibbled on a PB & J and quickly continued on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A short out and back section allowed me to see one 100 mile runner ahead of me. We exchanged quick grunts in passing. He looked focused and strong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Ah, it's early..." I quipped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To my surprise, shortly after leaving Hart Prairie, Kristi appeared on the side of the road along with several other spectators.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was excited to see her. I got rid of my arm sleeves and gloves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Who's in front of me?" I asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I don't know, it's hard to tell." She informed me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not only was there the 55K and 100 milers, now there were also relay runners out there. It was almost impossible to gauge what was going on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I said farewell and continued on!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After what seemed like an endless climb up the forest road, I finally connected back to a trail. The climb continued before reaching a split. 13 miles into this "flat" race and it had been pretty much all climbing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I thought this was flat..." I said catching my breath. I hung a right onto the AZ Trail, which descended quickly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Yes, some down!" I cried.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The single track was glorious. Blanketed in shade and soft footing made for some quick miles. I began passing runner after runner as I got lost in thought..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I thought about crossing the finish line in first place. I would hug Kristi and I would cry. People would be cheering and clapping. Ian would hand me my champion buckle and take pictures of me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"It's the hardest thing I've ever done." I would proclaim. "I couldn't have done it without you." I would say to Kristi. "And you either!" I would add pointing to Mike.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I would take the buckle and hold it high in the air, tears would stream down my face. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yep, it was all mapped out for me. Just needed to run another 85 miles to get there! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Soon the trail became surrounded by Aspen trees, jolting me out of my daydream. It was the most magnificent area I've run in my life. Words can't describe the beauty. I was mesmerized by the white trees and lush landscape. I soaked it all in.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This is gorgeous!" I shouted!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wish that could have lasted forever, but soon the landscape opened up and I connected back to a forest road. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">21 miles into the race, I galloped into Kelly Tank aid station. Kristi helped crew and I refilled my pack. I made it quick and headed out. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All in all, I felt good. I enjoyed more downhill and soon caught up with Cristian Rios, one of the 100 mile runners.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"What's up, man?" I asked passing ahead of him. "Who else is ahead?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Nothing, trying to take it easy now.." He mumbled. "Only one guy is ahead.."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wished him luck and pulled away.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The guy I exchanged grunts with earlier was now the lone runner in front..</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You got this, lots of racing left, stay relaxed." I reminded myself. "You'll catch him no problem."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">About 24 miles into the race, I began catching up to someone familiar. As I inched my way closer, I realized it was John Mollenhour, who was running the 55K. John also lives in Tucson and runs with the same group as myself. While John isn't a youngster anymore, the guy happens to be very fast. He just set a new record for the fastest "masters" time at the <a href="http://www.leadvilleraceseries.com/run/leadvilletrail100run/">Leadville 100 miler</a> a few weeks prior to this race! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">John had a nice pace going, so I decided it would be best to hang with him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">John and I enjoyed chatting away as we cruised along the forest road. Mile after mile of that road, all of which looked the same. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"When do we get off this road?" I asked John, who had run the 55K last year.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"We don't." He said while laughing.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While the temperature was very nice all things considered, the road was completely exposed and it was beginning to heat up.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All of our conversing really made those miles go fast and soon enough Cedar Ranch aid station came within view, which was the finish to the 55K race. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Go for it, John!" I shouted at him. "Finish it off strong!"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Alright, I'll see what I have left!" He responded as he began sprinting towards his finish line!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I watched him pull away and couldn't help but smile. I felt like I helped him hammer out those last 10 miles. But more than that is how much he helped me. That was a monotonous stretch and I never seemed to struggle, instead I enjoyed the company.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Just a couple ultra runners shooting the shit while doing what they love!</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Soon I pulled into Cedar Ranch and got to congratulate John, who had claimed 4th place. Catlow was there, he had taken 2nd place in the 55K. Nice work, gentlemen!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kristi and Catlow helped me get refueled and ready to roll.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kristi pointed out the first place runner, who had arrived at the aid station just minutes earlier. He quickly took off, back in front.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I said my goodbyes and began chasing after the frontrunner!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Soon I caught up and began running alongside him. We headed up another forest road and I had the opportunity to introduce myself and the pleasure of meeting Joe Owen. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Joe explained that this was his first stab at the 100 mile distance and that he had been in a rough patch for the last ten miles.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I tried to give hime some words of encouragement. "Just take it easy for a bit, it'll pass.."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I could tell he wasn't feeling very good and I was beginning to smell blood. My competitive nature kicked in and I picked up my pace. Joe did his best to hang on.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"This headwind is a nice touch!" I joked as we continued up the winding dirt road.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Pretty soon the pace took it's toll on Joe.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"I gotta hold back for a minute.." He said breathing heavily. "Good luck, Sion."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wished him well and picked up my pace some more.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Time to put the hammer down."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Soon I reached Tub Ranch aid station, just over 38 miles into the race.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I grabbed a handful of pretzels and bolted out of there.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I headed up a steep hill and connected to the AZ Trail, which was yet another forest road.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Damn, this race is a shit ton of dirt roads!" I shrieked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I continued at a nice pace, occasionally looking back. My lead continued to grow and soon Joe was no longer visible.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Over 40 miles in and to my surprise, my legs felt great. The consistent pace wasn't taking the toll I anticipated. No sign of cramps and my stomach felt good.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I maintained the same pace and before I knew it, I reached Oil Line aid at 44.5 miles.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I choked down a banana and slammed a cup of coke.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"You're killing it man!" One of the volunteers screamed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"This is when it gets real!" I exclaimed as I bolted out of there.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I kept expecting my legs to wear down as I maintained a steady pace.. But it wasn't happening. I was cruising along, almost in total shock.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I cracked the 50 mile mark in 8:02.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Half way done!" I shouted.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On I went, eventually making it to Boundary aid station, just over 55 miles in.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Squirrels Nut Butter's main man, Chris Thornley was there with words of encouragement!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"I didn't realize the AZ Trail was nothing but a long dirt road!" I said jokingly. "Do we ever connect back to a trail?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Right there!" Chris said pointing to a trail.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What a relief it was to see some single track staring me in the eyes! I hopped on the trail and took off!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">30 miles on nothing but forest roads and my attitude hadn't completely plummeted...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Winning!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The trail rolled up and down through the thick forest, slowing my pace down. I hiked the steep sections and tried to find a new gear.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I fell into a steady rhythm and got lost in thought. I tend to do that.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I eventually came galloping into Moqui aid station at 60 miles.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For the first time in over 9 hours, I kneeled down and began to feel zapped.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I knew I would hit a rough patch around 60 miles, how I handled it was going to dictate the rest of my race.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I chatted with the volunteers and choked down a boiled potato. I was excited that I only had about seven miles to Russell Tank, where I would get to see Kristi and pick up my pacer, Mike.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I stumbled off, back onto the trail and forced myself to begin running again.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The sun was beginning to set and the warm air was a thing of the past. It was cooling off quick.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I could feel the self doubt beginning to leak into my mind. Each step became more difficult. My mind began to wander. The demons were trying to get in...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Just keep grinding..." I told myself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Soon I came across three horses grazing beside the trail. I stopped and watched for a moment before continuing on.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Moments after I passed them, I heard a loud thump, Thump, THUMP!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My heart almost jumped out of my chest as I turned around to see what was coming my way..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One of the horses was charging directly at me!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was cloaked in fear and still as a statue when the horse suddenly stopped and whipped around in the other direction.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Holy shit..." I mumbled under my breath. "That was nuts!!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I got a burst of energy as I quickly got my ass out of the area!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Those seven miles from Moqui to Russell Tank seemed to take an eternity. My hands were freezing and it was almost completely dark as I finally came shuffling into the Russell Tank aid station.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was a nice boost to see Kristi and Mike, but I was in a bad place. Kristi helped me get some warm clothes on and I stuffed a few more Honey Stinger gels into my pack.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I knew that I needed to work myself out of the funk, but the thought of going back out there was heartbreaking.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"You'll find your second wind." I thought to myself.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I gave Kristi a long hug and told her to just go to the finish.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"See you at the end..." I mumbled, walking away.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mike and I headed out, into the darkness, into the cold.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Not feeling great, going to do my best.." I explained.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Do what you have to do, I'll let you know if you're walking for too long!" Mike quipped.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What I figured to be a long stretch of feeling like the world was caving in, actually faded away pretty fast. The trail was really runnable now and I was beginning to run longer stretches at a time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mike has been a friend for a number of years and we can talk about anything and everything.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And so we did.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We chatted away as we cruised the winding single track that dipped and climbed in and out of canyons. We zigzagged up and down switchbacks underneath the dark sky. A sliver of a moon above.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Soon we hit a forest road and hung a right. The road descended quickly and signs eventually directed us to the Hull Cabin aid station. Over 80 miles in and I was beginning to feel the rebirth!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hull Cabin was awesome! I was eating chicken noodle soup when all of a sudden Ian walked in.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"How's life!?" He exclaimed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"I'm good!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I was! I was feeling great. I had been running for just under 14 hours, so my goal time was not only within reach, but barring any kind of disaster during the final 20 miles, I was in a position to shatter that sub-19 goal!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mike and I shared a cheese quesadilla and headed out.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hull Cabin wins the "Best Aid Station" of the day award! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We trudged back up that forest road and reconnected to the AZ Trail.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next eight miles went really fast. A trail that almost entirely went downhill allowed me to click off some of the best miles in a long time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We quickly passed through Reed Tank aid station at 88 miles and soon I crossed the 90 mile mark.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Only 10 miles to go!" I was tasting the finish!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next several miles were a mixed bag of running and walking. My legs were completely trashed and my feet were in horrendous pain.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All of a sudden, like angels from above, the lights of a town came within view.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Check it out, looks like a neighborhood or something." Mike pointed out.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Oh my god, it is!" I was in shock.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I looked at my Garmin; 17:28.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Holy shit, I can go under 18 hours!" I shrieked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There was a little water station set up and on that station sat one lone can of Coca-Cola.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mike grabbed the coke and poured into a couple cups and we had a cheers.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Thanks for being out here with me!" I said.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"It's my pleasure."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We slammed the soda and took off, en route to the finish!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After going through a tunnel, we hit a small paved path that brought us to the top of a hill.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"There it is!" I screamed, looking at the finish line ahead.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was surreal. Something that seemed impossibly long. Something that I worked so hard for was almost over..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We bolted down the hill and through the finish line!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I gave Kristi a hug and then Mike. Ian came over and congratulated me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Couldn't you have gone five minutes quicker?" Ian jokingly asked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I finished in 17:42:17, less than 5 minutes shy of the course record.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In my wildest dreams, I couldn't have asked for a better race. A better crew. A better pacer. A better life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I <i>ran</i> 100 miles!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I would like to thank <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Araviapa Running</a>, <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a>, <span id="goog_650603159"></span><a href="http://www.squirrelsnutbutter.com/">Squirrel's Nut Butter<span id="goog_650603160"></span> </a>and <a href="http://www.bioskin.com/">Bio Skin</a> for the support! Thank you for helping me chase after my dreams!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have enormous appreciation for Michael Duer. It was an absolute pleasure sharing those miles with you my friend. Thank you.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Lastly, thank you Kristi. You have supported my desire to become the runner I am today. And more importantly, you have helped me become a man. I love you and I couldn't do this without you.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Until next time...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrl5PyhwjqJ4tRFf3WIcLq_XUM06dlPQDtksT7iLAJbTk7d6dv9JShFMR1oBdD9jNnuFdQlUFMfR11gQr8_dyqXHLBPDOPflnZtbgjVEclZJgndIlaoHBKgvhMZLN9toId8gr1HGs2ow/s1600/14525077_10210996986428537_7153018541627212381_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrl5PyhwjqJ4tRFf3WIcLq_XUM06dlPQDtksT7iLAJbTk7d6dv9JShFMR1oBdD9jNnuFdQlUFMfR11gQr8_dyqXHLBPDOPflnZtbgjVEclZJgndIlaoHBKgvhMZLN9toId8gr1HGs2ow/s400/14525077_10210996986428537_7153018541627212381_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"A journey of a thousand miles (or a hundred) begins with a single step" <br />
~Laozi </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-42422134177295136322016-05-24T18:27:00.001-07:002016-05-25T09:03:49.831-07:00Cedro Peak 45; The Homecoming<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Several years ago I boarded a plane en route to Tucson, Arizona.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had never been to Tucson.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I didn't know anyone that lived in Tucson.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Tucson.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had just left everything and everyone that I<i> did </i>know<i>, </i>behind.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Unknowingly at the time, that would be the last of my life in the "Land of Enchantment".</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At 27 years of age, I had nothing but a bag of dirty laundry to my name.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had spent the better part of the last ten years on a drunken rampage that brought me through the grim streets of Albuquerque. Living life <i>my </i>way.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I had burned the candle at both ends.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was out of options.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So with a last-ditch effort, my folks got me out of there.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I would land in Tucson and begin from scratch.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Somewhere along the way, I began to run.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I could write an entire novel on how much running and racing has changed my life over the last few years. It has given me a sense of purpose, the one I desperately searched for during those dark days. </span><div><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Running in the mountains has become my religion.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span><div><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It is my life.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As I began laying out my race schedule for 2016, I had an overwhelming desire wash over me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wanted to go back to New Mexico to run.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wanted redemption. I wanted to show what I had become. I wanted to show <i>who</i> I had become.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was no longer that lost soul drifting through life in a daze.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbFS6GPAetk">I'm comin' home again</a>."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I picked my race and it was set. I was going back to New Mexico to race <a href="http://stepoutdoorscolorado.com/cedro-peak-ultra/">Cedro Peak</a>, a 45 miler in the Manzano Mountains outside of Albuquerque.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It just made sense.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The excitement for the race grew strong, as not only would I have Kristi waiting for me at the finish line, but my parents were going to be there, as well.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wanted so bad to win this race!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I daydreamed of running through the finish line in first place, everyone cheering. My parents and Kristi would scream "Congratulations, you did it!!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We would all hug each other and smile.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I would then take the first place award and hoist it above my head like the Lombardi Trophy.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I owe this one to you!" I would shout while pointing at my folks...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yep, I was excited about this race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I notoriously have challenges in my life leading up to races. I get sick. I think I'm hurt. I am hurt. I don't feel fit. I'm too fit.. I mean, the list goes on.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But this time, nothing.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I put in a ton of miles, a ton of vert and I felt fit and healthy as ever.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A couple days before the race, Kristi and I made the trip to my parents house in Corrales, NM. My folks live about an hour away from the start of the race in Tijeras. Everything seemed to be lining up perfectly.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A quick shakeout run along ditch banks of childhood memories brought me to tears.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I gazed into the mountains in the distance and thought about my life.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was ready.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just like that, race day arrived. Kristi and I got our stuff together and made our way to the Manzano Mountains in Tijeras, NM.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Along the drive, I realized just how little I know about the beautiful mountains that surrounded me as a child.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Where were you when I lived here?" I thought to myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With less than an hour to spare, we made it to the Oak Flat Campgrounds. My folks would be arriving a few hours later.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The course was basically an out and back, with a lollipop loop.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My goal was to go under 7 hours and win the race. If all the stars aligned, maybe I could go under the course record of 6:30:47, set at the inaugural race in <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_event.aspx?did=13576#id34571">2012 by Jason Loutitt</a>.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Time quickly dwindled down. I said good bye to Kristi and made my way to the starting line.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This is what you worked so hard for." I reminded myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Leave it all out there."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the race director went over the directions, I joked around a bit with one of the other runners.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I always get lost" he said.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Well, follow me.." I responded "I've never done this race.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just a couple ultra runners shooting the shit before the gun goes off!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The familiar countdown ensued and it was GO TIME!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I took the lead and was closely followed by the guy I had been chatting with. I introduced myself and had the opportunity to meet <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Mike&lname=Wagner&age=31#">Mike Wagner</a>, an ultra runner from Colorado that had recently moved to Albuquerque.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I made a point to go hard right off the bat. I wanted to set the pace early, but Mike was right there with me. We chatted about where we were from and the love we share for running in the mountains.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was already enjoying the rocky single track that was descending quickly. The thin air was making my breathing a bit labored.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Oh hell, this elevation is gonna take a toll.." I realized.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A little over a mile into the race, we reached an intersection of trails with no markings.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"What the hell?" I said as I was stopped in my tracks "There are no markings anywhere..."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mike looked around in every direction.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I think we missed a turn." He mumbled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Soon enough three other runners came galloping up to the intersection.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"There's no markings here, we missed a turn." I said.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Everything I had worked for.. Was it all going up in flames? I know this feeling. It's familiar.. <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/12/mcdowell-mountain-frenzy.html">McFailure with Korey Konga</a> all over again!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A mile into a goal race and I am lost!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"How could this be happening?!" I said to myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One of the other runners quickly pulled out a map of the course. Brilliant!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yup, we missed a turn!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Before I knew it, Mike took off!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I quickly sprinted off as well, clinging to his heels.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Hopefully the turn we missed is close.." I sadly thought.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But it wasn't. It may have only been half a mile or so, but it felt like an eternity.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"There it is!" Mike shouted as he jumped back on course.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I followed and felt relieved. It wasn't until we caught up with the very back of the pack that I realized how detrimental the missed turn was...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Oh my God, I have to pass <i>every </i>runner now.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This was not what I had envisioned!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mike was on a mission and my breathing was becoming labored. We began passing runner after runner.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I looked down at my Garmin; 06:15 pace.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This is not good!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I finally backed off and let Mike disappear into the distance.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Have some discipline for God sakes.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The runners ahead became more sparse as I tried to recover. What should have been a nice long descent to separate myself from the pack had become a nightmare. I couldn't catch my breath and felt worked.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I relaxed as much as I could and soon enough, I saw Mike in the distance.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I quickly caught up. I could sense that he had gone too hard. His breathing was heavy, his stride looked forced.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I sat back and let him lead the way. I gathered myself and thought about finishing the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Winning isn't everything, just relax and have a good race.." I told myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I started to feel better and realized I was ready to pull in front of Mike.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I went around him and the two of us continued passing a runner here, a runner there. Eventually we caught up to a couple of runners chatting away.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I startled them as I came flying up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Is there anyone ahead of you guys?" I asked, hoping this was the last of them.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Just a few others.." one of them said..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After a second of frustration, I realized that the "few others" was us.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"That's us!" I shouted! "We got off course in the very beginning. That is us!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The great news was enough to give me a burst of adrenaline and I pulled ahead of the two runners and Mike.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I didn't look back for sometime and when I did, I saw nobody. I had created some space and began to relax for the first time. About five miles into the race and I was just beginning to relax. Oh boy.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Fortunately, the better part of those five miles were downhill. Or unfortunately...</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was lost in thought as I came rumbling down a steep section and BAM!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I crashed to the ground, tearing my right knee open. Blood everywhere. Good times! Get up and go!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the terrain flattened out, so did my energy level.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I tried my best to focus on the beautiful mountain views and single track. But I was gassed.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This is not good.." I mumbled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Had I ruined my race making up the lost time?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I went into a dark place. Those thoughts of winning the race in front of my folks were now replaced with thoughts of explaining why I gave up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I got lost. I guess it just wasn't my day.." I would explain.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">They'll understand. They're my parents, they have to understand!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I forced myself to hold onto a reasonable pace despite the rough patch. I got a small burst of energy as I cruised into the Cedro Peak aid station around 13 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wasted little time, simply stuffing a peanut butter & jelly in my mouth and continuing on.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The next stretch was up a steep jeep road that winded it's way to the very top of Cedro Peak. I was actually surprised by my pace as I quickly climbed to the summit.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A few volunteers were there checking off bib numbers. The wind howled, screaming words of encouragement.. Or the opposite.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I stopped at the top and tried catching my breath. The air was thin and lacked the good stuff. I put my hands on my knees and gasped for air.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"What's your bib number?" One of them shouted through the screaming wind.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"252!" I shouted back as I took off back down the jeep road.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Out and back sections are always a good way to see where you stand in a race. This one was pretty short and I was hoping that I wouldn't see any other runner prior to beginning the loop segment of the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I began hammering the down and for the first time all day, I was feeling optimistic about the race. To my surprise, about a half a mile from the top, I saw Mike trudging up the dirt road.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We exchanged quick grunts as we passed one another.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Before I had a chance to process my lead, another runner appeared. Third place was not far back either.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Both of them looked pretty strong climbing up the road. I figured I had about a mile lead and it was still very early. Still anyones race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"If you can maintain a consistent pace, you'll be fine.." I encouraged myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The next stretch was a long downhill along the jeep road. I gazed in all directions, soaking up the scenery. The views were magnificent.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This is your homeland, this is your race."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Soon I hung a right and connected back to a trail. These trails reminded me of what I am accustomed to in Tucson. Very technical and lots of rocks.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Needless to say, this shit is second nature!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I reached the Powerline aid station just over 17 miles into the race and made my visit brief. I sucked down a <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> gel and began the loop.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I felt like I settled in. I enjoyed the single track that hugged the side of a steep mountain side. It was a lot of downhill and fast running. I got lost in thought again, visualizing winning the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You wouldn't believe it, I had to come back from dead last to win.." I would explain "It was insane!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I played out various scenes in my mind and before I knew it... BAM!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I came crashing to the ground!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I laid there in disbelief.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I thought this was second nature.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I pried myself up off the ground and quickly carried on.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"The hell is wrong with you, Sion!" I barked at myself!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I plowed ahead!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Looking back on it, the section that brought me from the top of Powerline to the Four Corners aid station was some of the best single track I've had the pleasure of shredding. Fast, techy, views for days. You know, the good stuff.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I refueled, chatted briefly with the volunteers and departed. I had the sense that I wasn't going fast enough and I wasn't feeling top notch by any means.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Don't let those demons in.." I thought to myself... But were they coming?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Eventually the trail led me to a wide open meadow. All the beauty one could imagine, for everyone to see. Except for me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My attitude began to plummet.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why?" I often ask myself during a race. I run on, in search of the answer.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It felt like I had been running downhill for the majority of the day, which meant only one thing..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A lot a <i>uphill </i>awaits.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just over a marathon into the race, I came galloping into Coyote aid station.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"First one in!" someone shouted.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Yeah.. Ah, thanks.." I tried finding words.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was feeling nauseous and zapped. Weather had been pretty nice all morning, but the sun was beginning to get more aggressive.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I grabbed an orange and fumbled around with it as I took off. I only managed to get my hands sticky before chucking the orange to the ground in frustration! </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Stupid orange!!!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I hung a left back onto a trail and looked ahead.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Dammit."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There, in all it's glory, was the steep climb back up Powerline.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Perfect!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I began the slow trudge up the mountain.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had run every step of the race thus far. I had told myself that I was going to run every step of the race. But it was quite clear, I had completely underestimated the difficulty of this course. I was in for a long day.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It didn't take long for that climb to stick a dagger in my spleen.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I collapsed to the side of the trail and whined.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You gotta be fucking kidding me.." I moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Feelings of a race slipping away flooded my mind. I got up and began power hiking.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Power hike.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Curse the world.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Collapse to the ground.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Drag myself up. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Power hike.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Repeat.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Visions of the course record wiped away.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Somewhere toward the top, a young man offered me a popsicle. Was I hallucinating?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I gladly accepted.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I only managed to get my hands sticky before chucking the popsicle to the ground in frustration!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Stupid popsicle!!!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I finally came stumbling back to the top of Powerline. I staggered to the aid station.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Still in first place! Good job!" One of the volunteers shouted.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"That climb sucked.." I grumbled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You're killing it man, had like a 20 minute lead on second place earlier, probably bigger by now...."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">His words became distant, my vision became blurred. I stared at the jagged rocks below my feet. I wanted to spill everything inside of me onto the ground.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Ah.. that's great news.." I said. "If I can just hold this pace, I'll be fine.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Hold <i>this</i> pace.. Yeah, right. Who was I kidding, I was already hearing the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81G8gvy4aDU">sirens</a>..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Thanks dudes..." I mumbled under my breath as I staggered ahead.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I reconnected to the jeep road I had enjoyed running down earlier<i> </i>and began the fun trip back up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br></i>
For the life of me, I couldn't maintain a consistent pace. I would run for a short time and feel completely gassed. The frustration grew as I inched my way back to the Cedro Peak aid station.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My stomach twisted. The demons entered and began wringing out my insides like a soiled washcloth. I let them in with open arms.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">They were now in control!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why do I even do this shit??" I cried!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I tried to throw up but only dry heaved.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"So much for sub 7.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I staggered on..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Eventually I hit a small stretch of downhill that brought me back to the Cedro Peak aid station, over 32 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I got refueled and nibbled on some snacks.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At this point, a bunch of the 45K runners were in the middle of their race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I clutched my stomach and moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You have any Tums..?" I whined to one of the volunteers.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"No.. We don't. Sorry." He replied.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Before I even had a chance to respond, one of the 45K runners came to my rescue.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I do. Here ya go.." He said as he poured a couple Tums into the palm of my hand.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You're the real MVP!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I took off and jumped back onto the final stretch to the finish!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Tum ta tum tum tums did a nice job on my stomach and I got a needed second wind. I found a consistent pace for the first time since the climb up Powerline.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Running was good. Attitude was acceptable... For awhile.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The next stretch was nothing but up. Seriously. Up, up and away! Cramps began to develop in my calves as I focused on running the steeps.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"One foot in front of the other.." I moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It was a long stretch to the final aid station, but I felt like I made good time. That was a ROUGH section!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">40 miles in and 5 to go!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I took off in pursuit of the Lombardi Trophy!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I enjoyed a very brief stretch of downhill before finding myself gasping for breath on more of the steep stuff.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You really underestimated this course!!" I yelled aloud.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I topped out and gasped for breath.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I looked at my Garmin; 06:55 and change..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"It's not gonna happen.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I began running, the trees cleared out and I saw people ahead..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Is that the finish?!" I shouted out.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Yep, right there." Someone replied.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I sprinted ahead!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I shot through the finish line in first place with my folks and Kristi cheering me on!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTM3YPTYNo0">Dreams</a> come true!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The cramps in my legs took over as I collapsed to the ground writhing in pain. It felt like the muscles in my calves were going to rip right out of my skin and it was worth it.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I finished the race in 6:56:53.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After being medically cleared, I got to give my parents and Kristi a group hug. I did it.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br></i>
<i>We did it</i>.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sharing that moment with my parents was priceless. It's been a long road back home, but I wouldn't change a thing.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As always, It's an honor to represent the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/aravaiparunning/?fref=ts">Aravaipa Racing Team</a>! The support provided by <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a>, <a href="http://www.squirrelsnutbutter.com/">Squirrels Nut Butter</a> and <a href="https://bethin.me/">BeThin Tea</a> is greatly appreciated.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Until next time...</span><br>
<br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpGzXViPSk9RB9F2CR3zlJmyDAXMldP8xFbgtPAIsEB0Xj7P07nvPZrnTBelcV_dLS5DXorfJAJ_x8q2iM71gKc33zHssgj-i6rvMW5Em2p7vZvdlZAcKBwhMwq6IeVfFPzql6wVHzA/s1600/13048041_10209575991544553_8003431854180168166_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpGzXViPSk9RB9F2CR3zlJmyDAXMldP8xFbgtPAIsEB0Xj7P07nvPZrnTBelcV_dLS5DXorfJAJ_x8q2iM71gKc33zHssgj-i6rvMW5Em2p7vZvdlZAcKBwhMwq6IeVfFPzql6wVHzA/s400/13048041_10209575991544553_8003431854180168166_o.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's a wrap! Pic: Kristi McCauley </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/BBDIbFp1F2E/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BBDIbFp1F2E?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<br></div></div>Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-5402813567954481602016-02-21T15:51:00.002-08:002016-03-07T15:05:35.077-08:002016 Black Canyon 100K<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2015 was a spectacular year. I joined the Aravaipa Racing Team, I finished my first 100 mile race at MOG, I summited Blackett's Ridge a hundred times and I had a bunch a solid races peppered throughout the year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I stayed healthy, ran more miles and climbed higher than ever before. 2015 was a success!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">However, there was one blemish on the 2015 calendar. One brief moment that has been seared into my mind. A moment uglier than Donald Trumps corncob weave..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Getting lost at <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2015/02/black-canyon-100k.html">Black Canyon 100K</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. The feeling of having your race crumble to pieces is not for the faint at heart. You either let it wring you out like a soiled wash cloth, or you fight back. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I did finish the race, but the thought of it is like a punch to the throat. And throat punches hurt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was simple math, Black Canyon was going to be my first goal race of 2016. Not sure if math had anything to do with it, but it was simple. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Training leading up to the race was good. Even included setting the course record at the Coldwater Rumble 52K, a goal three years in the making.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt good!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But life has a way of testing me, it wasn't going to be a ride on the care free highway. Nope. Make it challenging. Make it interesting. Make it story worthy for God sakes!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That's why when my face blew up like a balloon four days before the race, I wasn't shocked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because running.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I had a face like a balloon. I am aware that this story took a strange turn, but these are facts. As a result of my deformity, I began a hefty regimen of antibiotics. Nothing like zapping my body into race shape!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite the circumstances, I found myself at the starting line with a face partially deflated and energy seeping out of my pores. This was my time to shine. I envisioned it. I would run. I would smile. I would pumped my fists.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I would scream "I did it!!" as I ran through the finish line! People would cheer! Kristi would hug me and say "You did it, baby!!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was all mapped out for me... Just needed to run over 62 miles to experience it. That's all...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Black Canyon 100K is a point to point race that starts in Mayer, a small town north of Phoenix, finishing in Anthem. It runs along the Black Canyon Trail. Nothing but sweet single track that makes an effort to expose you to the desert elements. No shade. Nice and rugged. All runnable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was expected that we would be flirting with some record breaking temps as well. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was going to be a scorcher.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After some pre-race festivities, we all lined up. I wished my boy and training partner, Charlie Ware, the best of luck. I knew he was ready to wreck shop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"There's the fast guy.." I said, pointing to Sage Canaday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Charlie looked at me unfazed. I knew at that moment, he was on a level. We'll just leave it at that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The familiar countdown ensued and we were off! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ultra racing is a combination of fitness, strategy, risk and guts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On this particular occasion, I decided to dabble in a little risk early on. The lead pack took off and I tried to hang on..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We ticked off the first mile of the race and my Garmin barked at me; 06:35.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Shit.. This is too fast.." I said to myself as I backed off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I watched the lead pack, a good fifteen to twenty runners pull away. As much as I wanted to chase them down, I have my limitations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"The hell.. They're flying!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And they were.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a little over two miles through the town of Mayer, we connected to the Black Canyon Trail. Nothing but single track goodness from here on in!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I settled into a nice rhythm. I realized that I was probably outside of the top twenty, but rested on my experience. I would start chipping away, it was only a matter of time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As they say, good things come to those that wait...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I watched the sunrise spray the golden desert floor with orange pastel. I gazed into the distance in every direction and made sure to appreciate the moment.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mfYecUxkZ_1YkSUBUcPvlsglSrwo03TVZ6CTKokDemS4igrHPSuT6DSaPb7J7J3cTNclxV32TtTlVpYRIupRwoRpP4fKNQ-3LyN9i4oArp2xBV-4iNl8sE59oBkJ2I-43RfeiomqRA/s1600/12717667_967749613280880_896516839268473342_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mfYecUxkZ_1YkSUBUcPvlsglSrwo03TVZ6CTKokDemS4igrHPSuT6DSaPb7J7J3cTNclxV32TtTlVpYRIupRwoRpP4fKNQ-3LyN9i4oArp2xBV-4iNl8sE59oBkJ2I-43RfeiomqRA/s400/12717667_967749613280880_896516839268473342_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early miles.. Pic: SweetMimages</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You are blessed.." I told myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Visions of a past checkered with self destruction streamed through my mind. Once a prisoner in my own body, I am now free to roam the earth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Freedom to explore is the greatest gift I've discovered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Soon enough a couple other runners came nipping at my heels. I introduced myself and had the pleasure of meeting Fernando and Christian. The three of us chatted for the next few miles, trotting into Hidden Treasure Mind aid station together just under 13 miles into the race. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I took my time filling my pack, nibbling on some PB&J's. Before I knew it, the two of them took off, leaving me behind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I'm going to reel these dudes in already.." I reprimanded myself. I have to find that inner competitiveness. It drives me. I thrive on it. I need it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I threw my pack on and gave chase! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I can't keep losing ground!" I shrieked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Those guys quickly gapped me something surprising. I stepped on the pedal and began gaining some ground. I couldn't believe the pace that was being set, but I had no choice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Hope I can sustain this shit..." I mumbled under my breath... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt good. The cool morning was now a thing of the past, being replaced by that 'all too familiar' hot desert air. It caresses your skin. It makes you feel good and comfortable. Then it whales on you! I knew we were in for a hot one!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Bring it on! I am a certified Arizonan!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Eventually, I caught up with the pair and the three of us galloped into the Bumble Bee aid station together, a hair under twenty miles into the race </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Jamil Coury was there doing a little cinematography..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Where the hell is everybody??" I asked him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"They're hammering it. There's going to be some carnage.."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wasted little time getting refueled and taking off. To my surprise, Fernando had already put some space on me. I watched him trot off ahead. I again, gave chase.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"This guy isn't messing around.." I realized.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next section was a good climb and it was now officially hot out. I kept Fernando in view for the next few miles, slowly gaining some ground. I finally passed a runner from the original lead pack.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Okay, now keep reeling them in.." I thought.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt like I was running smart and was positive that I would continue to move up in the race. I was enjoying the winding single track trail that whipped around, up and down. I got lost in in the rhythm and before I knew it, I shuffled into the Gloriana Mine aid station 24 miles into the race.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fernando was there as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What happened to your boy?" I quipped.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I think the pace was too fast.." he explained. "He is just trying to break 12 hours.."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The two of us left the aid station together. I would get to know Fernando Blanco quite well over the next several hours.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I let Fernando take the lead and the two of us chatted away about our running history and the goals we had for the race. The sun was now smoldering overhead as if on a mission to cook the life out of us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"How do your legs feel?" Fernando asked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Good." I quickly answered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As soon as I answered that simple question, I felt something in my legs. A feeling that I have experienced before. A feeling that fills me with dread and sends paranoia coursing through my veins.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh no, not <i>this.."</i> I thought to myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A mere 30 miles into the race and I already felt cramps beginning to develop in my legs. I did my best to ignore them, focusing on salt intake and hydration. But deep down, I knew there was little doubt that this was going to get ugly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Just keep grinding." I told myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I enjoyed cruising with Fernando for the next few miles, passing a runner here and there before rolling into Soap Creek aid station just under 33 miles into the race.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I got a reload of some of that 'oh so wonderful' H2O, sucked down a Honey Stinger and bailed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt a spring of energy as I pulled off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I used the familiar "You do this because you love it" technique to better my attitude. Soon after leaving Soap Creek, I caught up with Tarahumara hero Miguel Lara. Miguel looked wrecked as he staggered along.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I passed by, sending him some words of encouragement. It's always exciting to compete against runners you have read about and followed. There is an appreciation for what I get to dream... For what dream I get to live. Don't ever stop dreaming...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next stretch into Black Canyon City aid station is kind of a blur. I do recall falling face first into the Agua Fria river (intentionally), passing ultra legend Hal Koerner (for the second year in a row), and noticing that Fernando was still nipping at my heels.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The cramps had gotten worse. I grabbed a handful of salt and poured it onto my tongue, then sucked down a gatorade chaser.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"That'll put hair on your chest!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had my first (but not last!) thought of dropping the race as I stood there contemplating heading back out. Back out <i>there. </i>Into the inferno.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I eventually staggered ahead, back onto the trail. I forced myself back into running. I felt DRAINED. My legs were like jello. My stomach twisted. I tried to smile because I knew the torture was only beginning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I remembered from last year that the next stretched was a good, steady climb. I made the mistake of allowing myself to dread it. However, there was a silver lining. I would get to collapse into the Agua Fria river again before the long climb.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I began daydreaming of that cool water hitting my skin. I drifted into oblivion. Nausea and cramps subsided as I came rumbling towards the holy water, collapsing into it's heavenly arms.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PAI4vN1BaDHoq7XPZ71L5t3OG1eZ74o3cvSesQ_onq4s7RiG90mU6Y01u77ud_kft0dZlXeMfbLMp4Ce6x2I1D58ZtzFCY-wgN6LGjI5wK6M09EmCtQ1x-zoHcYa01Km-3L_sEpM3Q/s1600/12688328_10207537402491860_7329148882332284724_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PAI4vN1BaDHoq7XPZ71L5t3OG1eZ74o3cvSesQ_onq4s7RiG90mU6Y01u77ud_kft0dZlXeMfbLMp4Ce6x2I1D58ZtzFCY-wgN6LGjI5wK6M09EmCtQ1x-zoHcYa01Km-3L_sEpM3Q/s400/12688328_10207537402491860_7329148882332284724_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Howie Stern could't have caught it any better</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I splashed around, absorbing the moment of reprieve. I knew there was more punishment ahead. It was going to be a very painful path to the finish line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I could've spent an eternity in the cool, crisp clutches of that river, but I eventually picked myself back up and staggered ahead onto the trail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My legs felt heavy as I forced myself back into a steady jog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Jesus, my feet feel like bricks.." I grumbled.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next stretch was a steady climb and I felt zapped. The sun was penetrating my soul, I tried escaping into my mind. I reminded myself that running saved me. I owe everything to it. I can't give in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The cramps had subsided briefly, but I could feel them beginning to resurface.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Oh shit.. Here we go."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My pace had slowed considerably, so when I saw somebody beginning to catch up, I wasn't surprised. I tried to push the pace, I tried to hold him off, but there was no use.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The runner quickly caught up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I met Kyle Curtin, who was clearly having a better day than me. We talked briefly before I watched him pull away. My attitude began to plummet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Each step I took caused the muscles in my legs to seize up. A strange vibrating sensation began to run up and down the length of my back. I felt tentacles wrap around me. The grim force gripped my entire body in it's evil palms and began to squeeze..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"But this was my redemption race..." I mumble under my breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was beginning to unravel. I was now forced to run until the cramps were on the verge of debilitating, then stop, massage my legs, walk, curse the world, whimper and begin running again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had eaten so many S-Caps that I was having hallucinations of throwing up pills. I envision dozens of little white pills being projected out of my mouth, bouncing off the hot desert floor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was sucking down water at an alarming rate. My thirst had became insatiable as I staggered along. Soon enough, Miguel Lara caught up and passed me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Damn, back from the dead.." I thought to myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Soon after Miguel pulled away, Fernando came flying up the trail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You alright?" Fernando asked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yeah, just some really bad cramps." I moaned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Hang in there." He said as he pulled away from me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was demoralizing. I was so frustrated. I stopped and sat on the side of the trail in disgust.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Give it everything you have, Sion." I told myself. "Everything."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I pried myself off the ground and began running. I eventually caught back up with Fernando and the two of us arrived at the Cottonwood Gulch aid station, just under 47 miles into the adventure. Miguel was also there. The three of us nibbled on various food items, while sporting similar looks of desperation across our faces.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We all left at the same time. Miguel took the lead and I followed along. Fernando was right behind me... That would be the last time I saw Fernando.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Miguel and I played frogger for the next several miles. I would pull away, the cramps would take over, he would pull away. Neither of us were making very good time, so the fear that other runners were going to catch up was always present.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Making it to Table Mesa aid station was a relief. Over 51 miles into the race, it was now the homestretch. As horrible of a day it had been, I had arrived there in just under 8 hours. I knew my goal of 9:30 was slipping away, but sub-10 was still within reach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once again Miguel and I left together. I took the lead and began to pull way from him. I soon approached a familiar spot. The scene of the crime from last year, if you will. The blatant sign that I somehow I failed to notice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Not missing this turn this time!" I shouted!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite the cramps, which had become so painful that it felt like the muscles in my legs were going to rip out of my skin, I was still moving reasonably well. I kept looking at my watch, in hopes that I still could go under 10 hours. It was slowly slipping from within my grasp...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I managed a desent attitude, knowing the misery would soon be over. Up and down, along the trail I go..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Why the hell do I do this shit?" I questioned myself... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=opeETnB8m8w">Looking for the answer</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On an amount of time that took entirely too long, I shuffled into the last aid of the day at Doe Springs. I'm not exactly clear on what I did or said there, but I wasted little time before I staggered on. Less than four miles to the finish!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I continued my pursuit using the only tactic I had available. Run on the edge of what's possible, of what you are capable of. Walking on a thin tightrope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Four miles can be long way...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A quarter mile from the finish, a runner I had passed miles and miles ago trotted up behind me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You gotta be shitting me...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Good job, man.. Way to finish strong.." I told him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I watched him gallop ahead. I couldn't do anything about it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I laughed to myself "The final dagger, I guess... Fitting."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Like heaven on earth, the finish line finally appeared!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I mustered up a good jog and crossed my fingers that cramps wouldn't seize the opportunity to finish up the job and completely devour me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Guess I won the final battle because I was able to cross the finish line in one piece!!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_x0pH9pBp_Og6s3PIxg2_o3TsBCv9NyYeXZzZ1GMYGTQzSzWRcn-74ky80K0lIC3-v1aor14ATX6FkvbMNxcWXwhep9-SvB60cLjns96uqR4xx7vLEPX-acbbHyOIdGOa2ymPxpfog/s1600/12705593_10208921607225354_5788402520623331565_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_x0pH9pBp_Og6s3PIxg2_o3TsBCv9NyYeXZzZ1GMYGTQzSzWRcn-74ky80K0lIC3-v1aor14ATX6FkvbMNxcWXwhep9-SvB60cLjns96uqR4xx7vLEPX-acbbHyOIdGOa2ymPxpfog/s400/12705593_10208921607225354_5788402520623331565_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No caption needed. Pic: Kristi McCauley </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A mix of emotions flooded over me as Kristi and some friends congratulated me. At that moment, I was completely defeated. I felt like I failed. I didn't 'hit my goal time'.. It wasn't a success and I shouldn't be congratulated...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After some time to think, I realized that I had a really good race. Despite the horrid cramps, I finished in 10:06, good for 10th place in a nationally stacked field. Almost an hour faster than last year and narrowly missed going sub-10... That is a good day and an even better story to tell. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because <i>pain just hurts.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Huge congrats to Charlie Ware on taking second place (remember what I said about him being on a level)!! Behind only, one of the best in Sage Canaday!! Super stoked to help you train for "The Big Dance" at Western! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Also, congratulations to Amy Sproston on the win for the females. Thank you for not passing me at the very end, you were close. That very well could've pushed me over the edge...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Another stellar event produced by the one and only <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running</a>, it's always an honor to represent you! Thanks for delicious fuel, <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> and Team <a href="http://bethin.me/">BeThin</a>! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think it's clear, I have no choice but to return to that starting line in Mayer next year. It's still unfinished.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Maybe third times a charm...</span></div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-87248258472535146542015-10-16T20:31:00.001-07:002015-10-17T21:56:23.649-07:00The Monster<div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Several years ago I came across an image that depicted a stick figure running one hundred miles.</span><br>
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"This has to be a joke." I thought to myself. "No one could <i>actually </i>run one hundred miles. Impossible."</span><br>
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But it wasn't a joke. People did run a hundred miles. And further!</span><br>
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While the idea of running 100 miles seemed completely insane, the seed of curiosity was planted. Through friendships and circumstance, I was eventually introduced to the Tucson Trail Runners. I would soon leave marathons and road racing behind to focus on trail running and ultra racing.</span><br>
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I had found my passion. </span><br>
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My first two 100 mile attempts were not exactly what I had envisioned.</span><br>
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My first stab at the fabled distance was the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/11/javelina-jundred.html">Javelina Jundred in 2013</a>. Javelina was a race riddled with injury and stupidity. I dry-heaved and hobbled my way to a DNF at 100k.. My only DNF to this day. Unless you count <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2013-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2014-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=19">McFailure </a>with <a href="http://koreykonga.blogspot.com/">Korey</a>, when we went 10 miles off course, but that's a whole other story!</span><br>
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I walked away completely defeated. I wanted to go register for another hundred right away! I wanted to prove that I could do it! But I was injured and broken. It took some time to get back. I would have to wait.</span><br>
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I managed some patience, healed up and eventually decided on the <a href="http://www.mogollonmonster100.com/">Mogollon Monster 100</a>. An extremely challenging race that features closer to 107 miles of brutality along, atop & up and down the Mogollon Rim.</span><br>
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Super rocky and technical. Steep climbs. Sketchy descents. Gnarlestown.</span><br>
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This race was made for me.</span><br>
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Without getting into the unnecessary details of what happened at <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/10/mogollon-monster-100.html">that race</a>, it was eventually shut down due to a heavy storm that was smashing into the rim. Kinda the "cherry on top" of my weather cursed 2014 racing season. <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/03/2014-old-pueblo-50-storm.html">Old Pueblo</a>, <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey</a>, <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/08/0-o.html">Vertigo </a>and MOG100 all part of the curse. A wet and wild year it was!!</span><br>
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I was so frustrated. Again, this time entirely out of my control, no 100 mile finish. I was tired of hearing "Yeah, Sion is a good runner, but he's yet to complete the 100 mile distance.." Whether people actually said that or not is debatable, but that's how I felt.</span><br>
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One thing I knew was that I enjoyed the 51 miles I got to run on the course. I was setting myself up for a good day. I wanted to go back. I wanted to see more. I wanted to finish off that beast and take home a 100 mile buckle for heaven sakes!!</span><br>
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I made a decision to be patient, train smart and return. Mogollon Monster 100 was going to be my goal race for 2015.</span><br>
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My training leading up to MOG wasn't without drama. Oh no, no, no. No siree! Drama never escapes my running adventures!</span><br>
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Training went about as good as I could have ever imagined. I was on a base of at least 60 miles a week with over 10k of vert for the better part of two months.</span><br>
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Then, one day, I had a strange pain on the inside of my left leg.</span><br>
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I ran my fingers along my tibia. It screamed with pain. Worlds came crashing in.</span><br>
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"Oh shit.." I immediately went to the worst case scenario. "It's probably a stress fracture."</span><br>
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A month to race day and I was limping around.</span><br>
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"Maybe I am just not supposed to run 100 miles.." I thought to myself. "Why...?"</span><br>
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I continued to run on the injury with hopes that it would just disappear! Vanish! Like magic!</span><br>
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Unfortunately, I am no <a href="http://www.ozpearlman.com/">Oz Pearlman </a>and the pain only worsened. Shocking!</span><br>
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Finally, I came home from a run and the pain was worse than ever. I crumbled up on the couch full of despair. All of a sudden I became cold. I was shivering. I grabbed a blanket and curled up. I couldn't eat a thing. I knew what was happening. Of course!</span><br>
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I was getting sick. Sick and injured. Beautiful.</span><br>
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This sickness wasn't just your ordinary kinda illness. It was vicious. It was ruthless. It knocked me down for days. MOG was no longer on my mind as I just tried to survive. I was living in a cave within my mind. My body felt like it was withering away. I felt like my fitness began abandoning me.</span></div>
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The illness forced me from running for several days.</span><br>
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I slowly crawled out of the cave and was healthy enough to run again. Running felt harder than ever! I felt heavy. I jogged three miles and collapsed to the ground defeated. It felt like I had just run a marathon! The nagging pain in my left leg remained.</span><br>
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"It's a stress fracture. I know it.." I whined to Kristi.</span><br>
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"It's probably just in your head. You always go through this before big races." Kristi reminded me.</span><br>
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"What does she know..?" I thought.</span><br>
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I decided to have an x-ray done on my leg. As it turned out, there was no fracture. Nothing. In fact, I found out that my bones look really healthy. Just thought you may have wanted to know that about me. Healthy bones! </span><br>
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"No stress fracture!" I was ecstatic.</span><br>
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Kristi was right again. Dammit!</span><br>
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I spent the remaining days leading up to the race getting my mind right and my body back to form. A couple Blackett's, a couple tempo runs, a couple prayers and it was time to taper.</span><br>
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I was actually feeling pretty good. Rested. Ready. I was going to slay this beast!!</span><br>
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Kristi and I arrived in Payson and checked into our hotel. Weather was looking to be perfect. Cool in the morning, warm during the day, cool at night. No random torrential rainstorm or blizzard on the radar.</span><br>
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After picking up my race bib and having dinner in Pine, we called it a night.</span><br>
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Fun fact about me; I am an insomniac. I have my good days and I have my bad days. It's something I have dealt with my entire life. It sucks, but whatever! Could be worse. </span><br>
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I laid in bed, overwhelmed with excitement for the festivities. My mind wouldn't shut down. I watched precious hours tick by. I replayed the race in my head over and over. I envisioned myself running through the finish line. I would throw my hands in the air and scream "I did it!!"</span><br>
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"You have got to be kidding me.." I moaned. "I need to sleep..."</span><br>
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Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep. Probably two thirty, three o'clock. The moment I got comfortable, I was shaken awake by the sound of my alarm.</span><br>
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I felt sick to my stomach and lethargic.</span><br>
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"Am I really capable of running a hundred miles today..?" I wondered.</span><br>
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Kristi got up and urged me along. I sucked down a putrid cup of hotel coffee and got on my running gear. I looked over my drop bags in a daze.</span><br>
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"I'll feel better once I start running.." I explained to Kristi, only trying to convince myself.</span><br>
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After force feeding myself some oatmeal, we set off to Pine!</span><br>
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I met up with my Tucson bro's, Michael Duer and Tim Stackhous at the start. We all gathered giddy with excitement. Nervous with anticipation.</span><br>
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A wicked rendition of the National Anthem was played giving me goosebumps and sending adrenaline through my veins. This is what I live for!</span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y10UEcN0xHttBdLkp3yt7BaQm100CwoxUWN-VHh-zy-Rjihx1VCTD_ieB6kmaVHcdMUchjP0nerYT-7uNxcJqt7DfnyjTJCubHNXm-RUXcKYxaOSHf71o9j9qu8tdX0-EkmpdyvsOA/s1600/IMG_4882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y10UEcN0xHttBdLkp3yt7BaQm100CwoxUWN-VHh-zy-Rjihx1VCTD_ieB6kmaVHcdMUchjP0nerYT-7uNxcJqt7DfnyjTJCubHNXm-RUXcKYxaOSHf71o9j9qu8tdX0-EkmpdyvsOA/s640/IMG_4882.JPG" width="480"></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pre-race jitters ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Let's finish this thing off!" I barked at Mike and Tim. I hugged Kristi goodbye and went to the front of the pack.</span><br>
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The moment before a race begins is perfect. Everyone is amped up! It's the opportunity to showcase your training. It's when all of the blood, sweat and tears you've spent preparing are put to use. Use your head and the body can do amazing things!</span><br>
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We all counted down together and the adventure was underway!!</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaw9cRBciHtyi7TdkKOhwwODQzGAdYuf9CfpTPnZdNOBoGzXO-_BUSqOtg7DoE7HE-W9wPY4rtPQ4VDUy-skzAeGPaLEqFyekWqvMtEefiiWvqpC3fWuTiAgiO3RU4dVaJ1QyfFwgeTQ/s1600/IMG_4883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaw9cRBciHtyi7TdkKOhwwODQzGAdYuf9CfpTPnZdNOBoGzXO-_BUSqOtg7DoE7HE-W9wPY4rtPQ4VDUy-skzAeGPaLEqFyekWqvMtEefiiWvqpC3fWuTiAgiO3RU4dVaJ1QyfFwgeTQ/s640/IMG_4883.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keepin' it classy! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last year I played it super conservative and started out in the middle of the pack. It was smart racing and I eventually pulled my way into the top 10 by the time the race was called. But I knew I was never going to have a shot at the top guys.</span><br>
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I wanted a shot this year.</span><br>
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I settled in somewhere just outside of the top 10 as we made our first climb up Pine Canyon Trail. I watched several over ambitious runners bolt up the mountain at speeds completely unreasonable.</span><br>
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"I will be seeing most of you shortly.." I told myself. "Stay composed."</span><br>
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The views were spectacular right from the beginning. Sunlight clipped the tops of trees as far as the eyes could see. I chatted with a few other runners before finding my self alone, cruising up and down the single track.</span><br>
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"I have a feeling I am going to be alone quite a bit today.." I thought to myself.</span><br>
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I had no pacer lined up and was fine with that. This was my adventure to complete and I was ready to have a lot of conversations with myself. I was prepared to go to battle with the demons inside my head!</span><br>
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The air was cool with pockets of warmth peppered in. I could tell it was going to heat up and I was fully prepared for the hot temps. I trained through the Summer in Tucson for God sakes, bring it on!</span><br>
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I eventually caught up with another runner and we cruised together for a bit. His name was Jason Halladay, an ultra runner from Los Alamos, NM. Both of us being from New Mexico, we talked about the beautiful state that it is. Jason was also here last year when the race was shut down. So we both shared the feeling of redemption rattling in our minds.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I learned that Jason is no spring chicken when it comes to ultra running and has completed several difficult 100's, including Hardrock twice. We enjoyed the overwhelming beauty that was surrounding us. The air was crisp and water was flowing. The scent of pine needles tickled my nose. I love running in the mountains!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
Around eight miles into the race we began the first climb up the rim.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Hey, we only have to do this three more times!" I shouted at Jason as we power hiked our way up the steep switchbacks.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I began to pull away from Jason as I continued up the rim. My legs felt strong. I felt energized. All those Blackett's I did over the Summer were caked inside of me. I settled in and became relaxed.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"This is going to be so amazing.." I mumbled to myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I finally topped out and gasped for breath. I stopped for a moment to enjoy the picturesque views. Spectacular scenery for miles upon miles. Beauty so astounding that it would be senseless to put into words.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
After absorbing the scenery for a minute, I continued on. I soon reached the Pine Canyon aid station and refueled for the first time. I ate a few pieces of fruit, slammed a couple cups of Gatorade and took off. I got a boost on the way out as a few people sent me encouragement.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Thanks for being here!!" I shouted</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
The next five mile stretch was very runnable. I settled into a nice rhythm and began passing runners. First, one runner. Then a group of four or five. I could tell that the course had already begun to take a toll on several of the lead runners. I arrived at Dickenson Flat AS with a few other runners in tow.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"How far ahead are the leaders?" I asked Deron Ruse, who seems to be at every aid station I pass through.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"About 20 minutes in front.." He informed me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"20 minutes?!" I seemed shocked. "That's blowup pace."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I left the AS and began the steep descent off the rim down Turkey Springs Trail, along with Trent Peelle, a solid ultra runner from Phoenix.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
We chatted about the beauty of the course thus far and how much racing we had left. Trent told me that we were the fourth and fifth place runners. I felt relatively comfortable with where I was at and how I felt.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I hammered the next stretch, hoping to create a gap between myself and Trent. I was blown away when several miles later, Trent was still right on my heels.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Why are you trying to race right now?" I asked myself. "Chill!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I soon connected with the "all too familiar" Highline Trail. Yay! Rocks, ruts, up, down. This looks like that. That looks like this. I know this all too well! With Trent nipping at my heels, the two of us trotted into Geronimo AS.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
</span><br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEryDhyphenhyphenleQEFRYOi57t_4guVX9SR3TYfiL8e3jp6V9ye79DAmM8bDWKPr_ljE2cpLbgZ3hBWKsUxiAvRxHaCHSfCjsM_7TEaCLM8rKVqnag2LRoVuVKqmm9dxCjCrheWIVjD24wm-xA/s1600/IMG_4884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYEryDhyphenhyphenleQEFRYOi57t_4guVX9SR3TYfiL8e3jp6V9ye79DAmM8bDWKPr_ljE2cpLbgZ3hBWKsUxiAvRxHaCHSfCjsM_7TEaCLM8rKVqnag2LRoVuVKqmm9dxCjCrheWIVjD24wm-xA/s640/IMG_4884.JPG" width="203"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stoked to see Kristi! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was so excited to see Kristi there! I didn't expect to see her until Washington Park at 27 miles, so it was an incredible boost.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"I didn't think I would see you again." Trent said to me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Yeah, well I am trying to keep it cool, ya know.. It's early!" I quipped.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I am as competitive as it gets, and that convo lit a fuse!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I said goodbye to Kristi and quickly headed up the switchbacks out of Geronimo.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I saw a couple other runners make their way into the aid station as I climbed up the initial switchbacks. Trent was right behind me out of the aid station. I decided to step on the gas a little and soon I was all alone once again.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
Twenty miles in and I felt optimistic about my race. It was beginning to warm up. I really settled into a groove on the Highline. I was sucking water down at an alarming rate. Even decided to top off my pack at a spring along the way. Clean, crisp water! Best decision ever.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I soon caught up with another runner. I watched him stagger up a steep climb ahead of me. He looked worked.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Hey, man." I grumbled. "How's it going?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Ahh, getting a bit hot now. Trying to take it easy." He responded.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I got to meet Brad Botsch, a youngster from Phoenix who's famous for going up and down Camelback 12 times in 12 hours. Sounds like torture!!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I tried encouraging Brad a bit before I pulled away. I was feeling good and sitting in third place as I made my way into Washington Park.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
</span><br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26ARd6J0BvGX4eXPvsKA6Zj8M8ot1YlJt4vkbKw5D8nla3XbwqXg_MW8pnVRGSclqp3Zg1gR_cTzNs8b4ApbmvGtGjn21TAqUQ-PH2bhaEFdgYgxggSsZwFip43UJjfZ7dWTYlTe1Ow/s1600/IMG_4885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26ARd6J0BvGX4eXPvsKA6Zj8M8ot1YlJt4vkbKw5D8nla3XbwqXg_MW8pnVRGSclqp3Zg1gR_cTzNs8b4ApbmvGtGjn21TAqUQ-PH2bhaEFdgYgxggSsZwFip43UJjfZ7dWTYlTe1Ow/s640/IMG_4885.JPG" width="480"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Washington Park for the first time! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kristi helped me refuel and stuffed some more Honey Stingers in my pack.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
Jeremy Daugherty let me know that the second place runner had left about seven minutes ago and looked shaky. I appreciated the update and quickly bolted out of there.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
The next couple miles were a STEEP climb back up to the top of the rim. As I made my way up, I noticed the 2nd place runner ahead in the distance. He was moving slowly. The sun was beating down on both of us and he looked toasted. I quickly caught up.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I shared just a few words with Pompillo Romero before I pulled away. I finally finished off the burly climb and staggered toward the rim road.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Leader is eleven minutes ahead!" someone shouted at me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I headed up the rim road sitting in 2nd place.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
The next four and a half miles along the rim road were taxing. I tried to work up a steady pace but was constantly forced to a walk. I looked back and saw no one behind me. I even walked to the edge of the rim and snapped a few pictures.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
</span><br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwKMW224i9AYQsh4Cv48SkuCMGyso0zWf72IoMmnca6WZgmIZAsOqvPZPatoHtxzOPwgJaOvOLtg_wPgRhdrgLXJnt4TfCne439cNb30tjcun4CNk_8zhar0bCIdK5Qs7iKkjZJEHtw/s1600/IMG_4716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwKMW224i9AYQsh4Cv48SkuCMGyso0zWf72IoMmnca6WZgmIZAsOqvPZPatoHtxzOPwgJaOvOLtg_wPgRhdrgLXJnt4TfCne439cNb30tjcun4CNk_8zhar0bCIdK5Qs7iKkjZJEHtw/s640/IMG_4716.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Damn, that's a view!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It seemed like it took an eternity to make it to Houston Brother Trail. Eventually I made it, leaving that God-forsaken dirt road behind.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Finally.." I said aloud.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I trotted into the Houston Brother AS feeling drained. I could feel my demeanor begin to plummet as I nibbled on various food items.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"How are you feeling?" Deron asked (remember what I said earlier).</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"That road section sucks!" I cried.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I wasted little time and staggered ahead. I ran down a steep hill and hiked up a steep hill. Up and down. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I was dizzy.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"I thought this was the runnable stuff.." I complained,</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I became weak and frustrated. I collapsed to the ground and leaned against a tree.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Tired.." I moaned.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>As I leaned up against that tree, a feeling of deja vu washed over me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Is this the very same tree that I leaned up against last year, drenched in hopelessness?" I thought to myself.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I had an eerily similar moment last year in the very same area.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
It may or may not have been the very same tree, but it may have been. And even if it wasn't the very same tree, it was close. And it was funny. I chuckled for a second and got myself back up and moving.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
Just like last year too, I came out of that rough patch blazing!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
It's amazing how you can get so low and unmotivated and moments later, you are reborn! That's what ultra running is all about. How are you going to handle the adversity? The longer the race, the more adversity you will face.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"This is only scratching the surface of what I am going to face." I reminded myself. "Keep moving forward."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
The moment I picked myself up off that tree, my attitude shifted. Running on top of the rim is some of the most beautiful trail running I've ever experienced. I settled into a nice pace as I got lost in the stunning scenery surrounding me.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
Open meadows, green pastures, weeping trees and blooming flowers spread across the land. The air was infused with nectar, I could almost taste it. I took deep breaths and sucked in the moment as I cruised along forgiving soft single track. Before I knew it I arrived at Pinchot Cabin AS, just over 40 miles into the race.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Hey, you're only about 5 minuted behind the leader!" One of the volunteers shouted.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Right on.." I said while stuffing a peanut butter and jelly square in my mouth.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I made quick use of my time there before heading out. I thanked the awesome volunteers and jumped onto Fred Haught Trail.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I tried not to let chasing the leader dictate how I was racing. I had been restrained the entire day and it led me to this point. But looking back on it, I think I unknowingly picked up my pace a bit.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
After a few steep climbs, Fred Haught Trail became really runnable. I got lost in the beautiful single track that crossed back and forth over a glistening stream of water. Easy climbs were followed by swift descents. I felt very locked in. Then out of the blue, a runner ahead of me yanked me back into reality.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Oh, there he is.." I thought.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I could see he was still moving well, yet I continued to gain ground. I tried to run as quiet as possible. I crept within a few hundred feet..</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Hey, I was wondering when someone was going to catch up." He shouted back at me. "Where you from?"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Tucson." I replied. "You?"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Denver."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
We chatted briefly about the difficulty of the course, the heat that was wearing on us and the long night we had to look forward to.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I would get to know Jared Scott quite well over the next several hours.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I pulled ahead of Jared and finished the climb that brought us back up to the edge of the rim.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"First place runner!" One of the communication guys yelled out.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"I like the sound of that.." I said to myself as I dropped down the steep section that lead back into Washington Park.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I did my best to drop off the cliff-like trail without falling face forward to my death. I could feel gravity doing a number on my knees. I hopped back and forth like a billy goat drunk on beer cans. I finally stumbled ahead to the runnable downhill.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I put the hammer down! Like some kind of rookie, I did a full sprint ahead. Wouldn't you know, Jared was right beside me!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"The hell?" I was baffled. "I didn't think I would see him THIS soon!"</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
So Jared and I redlined it into Washington Park together, sharing the lead for first.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojF80n515_WxacqPgB2MfOMB3_AedDqxRxVG2dB5IUZP6TUDnSPe-TBq7YjejbQYrsNzMbxfPj-Tt1AYA5egIT60-RjyAskpMK1VoyoPP0e3AgwKMgc3U8ujtzFvgM6__3XVC4Sp2Nw/s1600/IMG_4886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojF80n515_WxacqPgB2MfOMB3_AedDqxRxVG2dB5IUZP6TUDnSPe-TBq7YjejbQYrsNzMbxfPj-Tt1AYA5egIT60-RjyAskpMK1VoyoPP0e3AgwKMgc3U8ujtzFvgM6__3XVC4Sp2Nw/s640/IMG_4886.JPG" width="344"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jared leading us into WS mid-race. ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, \Times New Roman\, serif;"><br></span>Kristi and Kristi (Duer's wife) were there to greet me. I had the "Kristi Tandem" helping me with everything I needed. I sat down on a cooler and slammed cup after cup of ice cold Gatorade (I'm not sponsored by Gatorade but I am open to negotiations). Jeremy is not only a great Race Director, dude can throw down a mean grilled cheese!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87bmnLHHwWj9Pn6lIW3-DQnd2XWFb4EinIN40vvpylA83bL4j9fPs5pKgXVZ9dvsGFIKHje4V7V-sGSejj4R4P8mVYGemwXx6U-9XZulkKwEWQzAbvBc4borBMoVO-wKJhevHyr0itw/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87bmnLHHwWj9Pn6lIW3-DQnd2XWFb4EinIN40vvpylA83bL4j9fPs5pKgXVZ9dvsGFIKHje4V7V-sGSejj4R4P8mVYGemwXx6U-9XZulkKwEWQzAbvBc4borBMoVO-wKJhevHyr0itw/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="408"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nom. Nom. Nom. ~Pic by Kriti McCauley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was thoroughly impressed with how my stomach was holding up thus far. I had eaten "real" food at every aid station. I hadn't lost my appetite and wasn't having to force anything down. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
"This is a good sign.."</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Jared got up and left the aid station. I watched him disappear onto the Highline Trail. I sat for a few more minutes wondering if I would ever see him again. I didn't want to go back onto the Highline Trail. I knew that the next stretch of trail was going to be a grind.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
"Gotta bail.." I said lifting myself off that glorious cooler.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
I never do a race without forgetting something, this time it was my headlamp. Idiot! Fortunately, Jay Danek had arranged to have one ready for me, as darkness was looming. Thanks again, Jay, I fully intend on returning it to you!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I gave Kristi a long hug good bye.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Guess I'll see you tomorrow.." I said in a sigh.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Saying those words put everything into perspective. I was heading back out there, into the mountains, for the remainder of the night. It's easy to train for a race and convince yourself that you are fully prepared for whatever you are going to face. Truth is, it wasn't until that very moment that all of it <i>honestly </i>settled in. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Oh yeah, I guess so.." Kristi replied. She seemed nervous for me, but also confident that the next time I would see her would be when I was crossing the finish line. "Good luck, babe. See you at the finish!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I headed back out sporting a new shirt and a headlamp strapped to my noggin. Fifty some miles into this exploit and fifty some miles to go! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While my attitude was still somewhat enjoyable, the trail conditions were not. Tall grass and a trail that lead to nowhere began the pain staking task of beating my attitude to the ground.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What the hell!" I cried. "This is ridiculous!" </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I must've used the line "This is ridiculous" at least a hundred times out there. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I was weaving my way through the brush, suddenly a herd of cattle appeared right in front of me. All the cows glared at me with an expression that read; What the fuck are you doing?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And to be honest with you, I didn't have an answer. And for that one moment, I wished I was a cow.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The mileage from Washington Park to Hells Gate was advertised as around five miles. But over two hours later I was still crawling through the cobwebs.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Where the hell is Hells Gate!" I screamed!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sun was setting and the blood moon was rising. The rim was painted a grapefruit pastel. I eventually came staggering up to Hells Gate aid station. To my surprise, Jared was just leaving.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Hey man.... This is ridiculous!" I added. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jared left as I settled in. I chomped on a hard boiled egg courtesy of Lisa Ann Kravets and watched the clouds light up. Clouds getting set on fire while I patronized Hells Gate.. I can't make this stuff up! </span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4Kj8bpW8yffxLYbbtrnoFZpAU_wdEU0dVPJAQuJs0Fzgp4-OG1X70KbD0dt82Hd9WTjLO38s9Q_-6dyHu0B3I0bfw-MA1QF_jiy4RvXyYrLCyB_MK7xmp7IXHBdqWPzDF_U7kgD1sQ/s1600/IMG_4729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4Kj8bpW8yffxLYbbtrnoFZpAU_wdEU0dVPJAQuJs0Fzgp4-OG1X70KbD0dt82Hd9WTjLO38s9Q_-6dyHu0B3I0bfw-MA1QF_jiy4RvXyYrLCyB_MK7xmp7IXHBdqWPzDF_U7kgD1sQ/s640/IMG_4729.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">^Hells Gate^ (I snapped this just as the sun was setting)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A crisp breeze slapped me in the face and I realized it was time to get back to work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I set off in pursuit of the fabled climb up Myrtle Trail.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sun sank beneath the horizon leaving smoldering lava in its wake. I turned my headlamp on and plowed ahead. Once again, I caught back up with Jared. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We cruised together from that point all the way up Myrtle Trail to the top of the rim. That climb put a dagger in my stomach. I could hardly talk as we power hiked straight up that montrasity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tall grass continued to make navigation more difficult. I began coughing repeatedly. The glare from my headlamp bounced off the blades of grass back into my eyes making me dizzy. Jared continued to talk to me but it became more and more difficult to respond. I resorted to more of a grunt than a response. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://apizm.com/">Andrew Pielage</a> was on the crest of the rim snapping photographs as the two of us finally topped out.</span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieVCleElOf6CWMkqxT3BY11bnrUAazmQLux-SuS1f4Djp2mO-w3gNl9f0SI4o1k5uuHN7ZSe4HaRBfArJAzxsvbt-ckJ_LcerUb6dOqf2AIVlc_U-ImzuWr5EcwUQtxJ2vDDu3gfkRZw/s1600/IMG_4878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieVCleElOf6CWMkqxT3BY11bnrUAazmQLux-SuS1f4Djp2mO-w3gNl9f0SI4o1k5uuHN7ZSe4HaRBfArJAzxsvbt-ckJ_LcerUb6dOqf2AIVlc_U-ImzuWr5EcwUQtxJ2vDDu3gfkRZw/s640/IMG_4878.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it! ~Andrew Pielage Photography</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XRAj4yTb-FCFZqwPOZ_r5TqLOyPQvC1y-O5DqU-LmUJ9DXRoX5laIxERjChX5RdYN-wb4_r0Tu2CK8innYjzIsCv98TTmjdvr-Sht25BTe14lxW2ctr1m91AJnaEMxzHVugk6zgtJA/s1600/IMG_4877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XRAj4yTb-FCFZqwPOZ_r5TqLOyPQvC1y-O5DqU-LmUJ9DXRoX5laIxERjChX5RdYN-wb4_r0Tu2CK8innYjzIsCv98TTmjdvr-Sht25BTe14lxW2ctr1m91AJnaEMxzHVugk6zgtJA/s640/IMG_4877.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The demons were looming... ~Andrew Pielage Photography </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Great job, guys!" He shouted at us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That shit sucked.." I whimpered.</span><br>
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As soon as we reached some runnable trail, Jared took off and I followed behind. We cruised a quarter mile or so, reconnecting to the rim road<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> The moment Jared hit the road, he was gone. I, on the other hand, </span>collapsed to the side of the road. I watched Jared's headlamp slowly disappear into the darkness.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I began to gag. I forced down a gel and dry-heaved. I was breathing heavily and became cloaked in self doubt and despair. I began to allow the demons in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Over 40 miles to go.." I mumbled under my breath. "I don't think I can do it."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite my wretched state, I dragged myself off the ground and mustered up a steady jog. I began constructing my plan to drop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I have to make it to Washington Park." I decided. "If I'm going to drop, it will be in a convenient place for God sakes.." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking back on it, it's pretty comical to think that I was planning out where I was going to drop and it was over 20 miles away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next few miles along the road were the most runnable stretch of the entire race. I took advantage of it, settling into a respectable pace until I arrived at Buck Springs AS. The temperature had dropped and I threw on some warm clothes that I had in my drop bag.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I sat next to a camp fire with a bunch of strangers that were willing to get me anything I needed. I ate some chicken noodle soup and imagined that I didn't have to go back out there. I questioned why I put myself here. I looked at the volunteers enjoying the moment. I wished I was a volunteer. I missed Kristi. I wanted to go home.</span><br>
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After a good break, I got up and headed off. I had a race to drop, dammit!</span><br>
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I got back onto some single track and headed into the dark forest. The moon was like a lightbulb hovering right above me. Watching me. I didn't want to run anymore. I began daydreaming of laying in bed. Of going sleep.</span><br>
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I stopped running, took my pack off and laid down on the ground. I closed my eyes and thought about my life. My past. Where I have been. I thought about those grim years before I changed the way I lived. The sadness, the wreckage. The good. The bad. I got back up and staggered ahead. </span><br>
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"I am going to get to Pinchot Cabin aid station and I am going to take a nap.." I decided. </span><br>
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I repeated the process of laying on the ground several more times over the next few miles. I was so tired. It felt like I was never going to make it to the damn aid station! Then all of a sudden, I recognized my surroundings.</span><br>
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"Yes, I can take a nap now..." I thought. </span><br>
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I came stumbling up to Pinchot Cabin AS about 72 miles into the race. This was now the furthest I had ever run. </span><br>
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"What can I get you?" one of the volunteers asked.</span><br>
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"A cot." I quipped.</span><br>
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She offered a cot to me! I looked at it and for reasons I can't explain, I turned it down.</span><br>
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"Nah, I'm good. I'll just take a seat."</span><br>
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I sat there sipping on soup broth. It was now certified freezing out. A few runners that had dropped were sitting next to a camp fire. The mood was depressing. They explained that they were stuck there, that their cars were in Pine, that their key's were in Washington Park, that they couldn't get a ride out. And to top it off, one of them suspected that he broke his foot.</span><br>
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"Wow, that sounds complicated." I sadly responded. </span><br>
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All of a sudden, running didn't seem half bad.</span><br>
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"I hope you guys get everything straightened out!" I shouted as I jogged off. And just like that, I was back in business! </span><br>
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I jumped back onto Houston Brothers Trail with new vigor. I replaced those haunting thoughts of quitting with glorious visions of crossing the finish line. </span><br>
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I figured I had lost about an hour from Buck Springs to Pinchot Cabin. I still felt like I had a good lead on the 3rd place runner, but my chance of winning was slipping away. Still, I was extremely excited to get back to racing. Go to hell, demons!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I fell into a good rhythm and made it back to Houston Brothers AS. I was a bit delirious as I chomped on the 'soup du jour'. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"How you feeling?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I looked up and standing there was none other than Deron Ruse. I know! I told you. Him and his wife, Melissa, were both there encouraging me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Well, 80 miles of this shit... I'm exhausted." I whined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was actually in a pretty good place, all things considered. I was informed that Jared had about an hour lead. I put chasing him aside a long time ago. I was purely focused on getting to Washington Park. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I pulled myself together and hit the rim road running. I had <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xzU9Qqdqww">Kid Cudi's 'The Pursuit of Happiness'</a> playing on repeat in my head... Which was cool because it's a legit jam. "I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold. Hey, I'll be fine once I get it. I'll be good..." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I maintained a decent pace and eventually made it back to that STEEP descent that dropped into Washington Park. It took a lot longer to get down this time around. Nothing like dropping off a cliff-like section of trail with 85 miles on your legs.. It's something everyone must experience at least once! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, I came trotting into the aid station at Washington Park. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jay Danek and Tony Russ helped get me refueled. I slurped down some ramen noodles and complained about the course.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"This shit is so hard.." I cried. "It's cool and all, but I'll NEVER do it again!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I was dreading getting back on the Highline Trail, I was now seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. I knew this was going to be the absolute hardest 20 miles of my life, but dropping was no longer an option. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was going to grind this beast out and take home that buckle! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Without wasting too much time, I was back on the move. The next nine miles on the Highline were impossibly long. I began hallucinating. I was hearing movement all around me. I heard animals cry out, mimicking the sound of people cheering. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Is that the aid station?" I would ask myself, over and over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The moon was so bright, like a spotlight overhead. I was constantly looking up, expecting to see something or someone in front of me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I kept going and going, but it felt like I was always in the same place, looking at the same thing. Suddenly, a bat that was the size of a pterodactyl came flying straight at me! Its blood-red eyes pierced directly in my direction as it came swooping down in attack mode.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Oh my God!" I shrieked as I hit the ground. "What the hell?!!!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My heart was pounding out of my chest as I watched it flap away into the darkness. I pulled myself up off the ground and gathered my senses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"That was nuts.." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got back to work. I expected to roll into Geronimo aid station, but it never seemed to happen. I ran and ran and ran. Nothing. No aid station.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What's going on here?" I wondered. "I've been running for hours!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The stretch from Washington Park to Geronimo is about nine miles. I was positive and that I had run further than that. Positive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I began to panic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Am I off course?" I sadly thought. "Oh no. This can't be happening!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't know what to do. Backtracking seemed ridiculous, so with my veins pumping adrenaline I didn't know existed, I sprinted ahead. I flew up and down some switchbacks while I played out the horror of being lost in my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"So then, over 90 miles into the race, I got lost!" I would have to explain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was sick with worry when all of sudden, like the gates of heaven themselves, the aid station appeared! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"YES!!!!" I screamed with joy! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I spent a few minutes there. I choked down a cold slice of pizza and chatted with the two volunteers braving the nighttime conditions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"One more monster climb and I'm home free!" I exclaimed as set off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had heard a lot about the final climb up the rim. The "kiss of death" I was told. I was excited to have survived up to this point and was actually moving well. I wanted the kiss of death. It's what I trained for. It's why I love this sport. I love the pain. I love the suffering. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love to run!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rays of light began to emerge from the ridge line. Morning dew now coated the shrubbery as the sun began to rise. This was the moment that I longed for. The moment I had envisioned. To run through the morning, through the day, through the night. To watch the sunrise. This is what I dreamed about for years. And let me tell you, it was beautiful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I trudged along waiting for the climb. Preparing for the last gasp. I took a left and connected to West Webber Trail. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I began an easy climb up the rim. The morning had fully made its presence. Birds were chirping in the tree tops, warm air was taking place of the crisp night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"This ain't <i>that </i>bad..." I thought. "Kiss of death?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then the climb began.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the steepness made its presence, there was no mistake about it! I began power hiking switchback after switchback. One after another. I looked to the top of the rim and it still looked so far away. I felt like I wasn't making any progress. My quads were on fire. My breathing was labored.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Is this even necessary!" I screamed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I collapsed to the ground and moaned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew this was almost over. I could taste the finish. I got back on my feet and continued up the rim. Finally I saw some day light. I had reached the top of the rim for the fourth time!</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I rambled through some sketchy trail with my eyes fixed on the course markers ahead and reached the One Hundred Mile AS. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
A couple of communication workers were there with some water. </span><br>
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"Good job on making it this far!" One of them yelled.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
"Thanks man! But I ain't done yet!!" I was now pumping some adrenaline, knowing it was all downhill from here.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>
I spent only a few short minutes there before I took off, en route to the finish!!</span><br>
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After a couple miles on the rim, I finally began the long, steep drop down. I was really "enjoying" all of the loose rocks when out of the blue, Jay Danek was coming my way. I was in the middle of giving myself a motivational speech at the time. I don't always talk to myself but when I do, it's when I've run over 100 miles.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>Jay was making sure the course was well marked in the area. He decided to run with me after I convinced him that it was. It was a boost to have some company after running alone for so long! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What was with that last climb?!" I cried.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Oh, the dick knocker." Jay quipped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perfect name for that monstrosity, courtesy of Justin Lutick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>Jay informed me that Jared had finished in around 25 hours. Jeremy's prediction rang true; no one would go sub-24. Jared stretched his lead to about an hour during my rough patch, but it pretty much stayed there following my resurrection. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jay and I finished off the last of the steep stuff and the trail became super runnable. I was invigorated and running faster than I had in very long time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Finally, I'm getting my hundo!" I was ecstatic!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Suddenly, there was my local TTR'er and friend, Dallas Stevens, running up the trail toward us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What up, bro!" I exclaimed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The three of us cruised together, eventually making to the Pine Trailhead, the very spot this epic adventure began. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After we crossed underneath State Route 87 through a tunnel, Jay hung back to finish marking the section while Dallas and I continued on, into the town of Pine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was surreal watching people driving around, just getting their day started. I had been running for the last 26 hours. Dallas and I cruised at what felt like a six minute pace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I can finally keep up with you!" Dallas joked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"This is all I got! This is it!" I shrieked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally I saw some people gathered up ahead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"There it is!" Dallas yelled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Oh yeah!!!!!" I screamed as I began a full sprint ahead!!</span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVttff512IrRwVb0oBZhEjY31cpvbLywOlm008GiG8zQUQojmBm8rXEUBv3gcMvlYMw16XFfzUsO8BzPvJBhrL5HUsF5JTIa0_eZDPxb2AZHKgn81yuPmNw1xT5bjefFNiUdG9AzQjBA/s1600/IMG_4880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVttff512IrRwVb0oBZhEjY31cpvbLywOlm008GiG8zQUQojmBm8rXEUBv3gcMvlYMw16XFfzUsO8BzPvJBhrL5HUsF5JTIa0_eZDPxb2AZHKgn81yuPmNw1xT5bjefFNiUdG9AzQjBA/s640/IMG_4880.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving it all out there! ~Andrew Pielage Photography</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I put my foot on the gas pedal, slammed it to the floor and flew through the finish line!!!!!</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTbgfgixAdJwX5AZqmucMPNDQVkC4-c5fFMc0bTWi2kKkxRDfFm2YylDbxGCGSP07NXjp9VB2PYmR0B5lDDxF8bKJiuymcsdMzVQUoBeXNahluQWDlKXSB5CPwx431_2v2cFDg5e70Vg/s1600/IMG_4890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTbgfgixAdJwX5AZqmucMPNDQVkC4-c5fFMc0bTWi2kKkxRDfFm2YylDbxGCGSP07NXjp9VB2PYmR0B5lDDxF8bKJiuymcsdMzVQUoBeXNahluQWDlKXSB5CPwx431_2v2cFDg5e70Vg/s640/IMG_4890.JPG" width="480"></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did it!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jeremy was there to congratulate me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You're a dick!" I barked at him.... It was meant as a term of endearment! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I gave Kristi a long hug. I was in shock. I finished the 107 mile mountain race in 26:05, good for 2nd place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dallas came over to congratulate me. I've known Dallas since I first got into trail running. He's been there to watch my progression as an ultra runner from the very beginning. It was so powerful to have him help me finish those final steps to the finish. It's a moment I will never forget. Thank you, Dallas!!</span><br>
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I also had the opportunity to talk about the race with Jared Scott. We took a moment and reflected on the epic adventure. Jared finished in 25:07, just under an hour in front of me. The guy is tough as nails and it was a pleasure getting to share some of my suffering with him. I learned a great deal out there. Congratulations on winning the Monster, Jared!!</span><br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZZPOYcCbyA80tSsVvCbmZXVj4drNL2G1gAmKb3Ymg7PEBY0_jaiwa-ObRQklJhNuEvlnNdj4W71jRQqVqQOkPHedrrKi6OknxGanRTzIVP71-A8lWwel8nm2aTEEknotmLASpwIWpw/s1600/IMG_4888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZZPOYcCbyA80tSsVvCbmZXVj4drNL2G1gAmKb3Ymg7PEBY0_jaiwa-ObRQklJhNuEvlnNdj4W71jRQqVqQOkPHedrrKi6OknxGanRTzIVP71-A8lWwel8nm2aTEEknotmLASpwIWpw/s640/IMG_4888.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a moment with Jared. Priceless. ~Andrew Pielage Photography</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dt6TpctLQdSMPMCeCC8gZIBcQ8dMucNkqni5FeYByl85qi4Rh_iJTF1WXfLe8EM0MnT7raqlpEKSc2wHB-cJYLAApRfidGVk_ofHT2uYnbwXGbHutOzmFxo5J9jvd_i4-_JxmQP1hg/s1600/IMG_4887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dt6TpctLQdSMPMCeCC8gZIBcQ8dMucNkqni5FeYByl85qi4Rh_iJTF1WXfLe8EM0MnT7raqlpEKSc2wHB-cJYLAApRfidGVk_ofHT2uYnbwXGbHutOzmFxo5J9jvd_i4-_JxmQP1hg/s640/IMG_4887.JPG" width="480"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soaking it in with Jay Danek & Dallas Stevens ~Pic by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trent Peelle took 3rd place, rounding out the podium. Great work, Trent! Congrats to Nadine Haluszczak on setting a new women's course record with a time of 30:49! Susan Kramer and Susan Donnelly took second and third women, respectively. Well done! </span></div>
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Congratulations to everyone that took on the Monster, whether you finished or not. Just toeing the line takes guts! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't say enough about the volunteers, the communication workers and everyone else that helped put this race on. I cannot begin to wrap my head around the amount of work that goes into an event of this magnitude. Thank you, everybody! Even you, Jeremy. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br>I am excited about ultra racing moving forward. This race has given me new confidence in what I can accomplish with hard work and dedication. As I reflect, I am really intrigued by the 100 mile distance. I am curious to see what I am capable of on a course that's a bit easier, like Hardrock... </span><br>
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Thanks for the support, Aravaipa Running, Pearl Izumi, Honey Stinger, Ultraspire and Feetures! Great companies and great products.</span><br>
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The biggest thank you goes to Kristi, who's always there supporting me, helping me follow my dreams. Sometimes I feel like what you go through is more challenging than the race I am participating in!! You are amazing and I love you! </span><br>
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Until next time...</span><br>
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Stay on the pursuit of happiness!</span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKLDd5Y2B9KW5Kp_tFgStw0zlFsJts7F4sx8r700wFOiEC_4_MtR6RyY5m8joEjtSVzSur6CFpseX_ch-A4KH2FjoT8ZkcMC-tpwz15Ihnw12Hf7f5iDU9jTA0GX1tWTGGcAVa6r6Lg/s1600/IMG_4889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKLDd5Y2B9KW5Kp_tFgStw0zlFsJts7F4sx8r700wFOiEC_4_MtR6RyY5m8joEjtSVzSur6CFpseX_ch-A4KH2FjoT8ZkcMC-tpwz15Ihnw12Hf7f5iDU9jTA0GX1tWTGGcAVa6r6Lg/s400/IMG_4889.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Kristi Sager</td></tr>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-22656039138736346992015-06-19T18:40:00.000-07:002015-06-19T20:07:12.331-07:00A Tale of Two Races; Adrenaline 54k and Big Pine 108k Race Recap<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running</a> unveiled a new event that took place in Flagstaff, I was all in. Flagstaff is surrounded by big mountains and beautiful scenery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not an accident that a handful of the best runners in the country call it home.</span><br />
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The timing of the announcement conveniently came after I raced the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2015/02/black-canyon-100k.html">Black Canyon 100k</a>. A race that left a bitter taste in my mouth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was on my way to finishing under my goal time at Black Canyon before I got off course and had it all slip away. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach.</span></div>
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One of the distances happened to be 108k. And I wanted redemption. I didn't even hesitate. This was the remedy that I so desperately needed! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I juggled up my racing schedule and signed up.</span><br />
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As race day approached, feeling fit and eager to compete, I decided to go defend <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/06/adrenaline.html">last year's win</a> at the Adrenaline Night Race. I figured a 54k trail race in the dark<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> on some super fast single track would be an excellent warm up! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Makes perfect sense, right?!</span><br />
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Now, when I decided on the "Adrenaline race warm-up" thing, I was certain that there was enough of a layover between the two races. So you could imagine the shock was quite severe when I realized that it was only two weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two weeks between Adrenaline and Big Pine. Two weeks between a 54k and 108k. Two measly weeks.</span><br />
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"Oh man.. This might not be a good idea." I thought to myself.</span><br />
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But I love to race. I was excited to go run fast in the McDowell's and I just couldn't bail on it. I tried to talk myself out of it. But then I talked myself out of talking myself out of it.. I'm so damn stubborn!</span><br />
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"It will be fine.." I explained to Kristi after making the discovery. Apparently she was fully aware of the time between the two races, I was the only idiot in that department.</span><br />
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"I will just run the 54k easy. It will be like a long training run... A fully supported long training run."</span><br />
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I told myself that was the plan. That was what I was going to do. Problem is that I don't do races like that. I just don't. I RACE races! I knew I was only fooling myself.</span><br />
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As we lined up at the start of Adrenaline, I had a feeling of absolute calmness wash over me. I knew I was about to go <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyaGLR0Q65E">HAM</a> and I was willing to take that risk!</span><br />
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Right out of the gate, I charged. I charged with the same intensity for the next four hours (and 9 seconds) bringing home the W.</span><br />
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I raced with an energy I never knew existed. I put everything into it. And yet, there was more. I never really suffered. I never felt like I had to slow down. I finished the race and felt fresh as a daisy! It was an amazing feeling. An amazing race. An amazing experience.</span><br />
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With the high of Adrenaline still pumping through my bloodstream, I set my sights on the next order of business; <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/big-pine/">FLGX Big Pine 108k</a>.</span><br />
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No rest for the weary! Or mentally ill..</span><br />
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I took one day off and jumped right into training mode. I was surprised by how my body was able to bounce back. I felt great, even set a PR on the ascent of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Wrightson">Mount Wrightson</a>, a run I've done many times. It was looking and feeling like my two race doozy was going to work out after all.</span><br />
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I tapered down the week of the race. Nothing was significant about my easy runs that week, other than feeling kind of exhausted. Usually when I taper, I feel like I need to go run. I feel like I need to run far and I need to run fast.</span><br />
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Not on this taper. This taper was the opposite. It was as if 54k of racing on my body waited a week to rear it's ugly head. I was tired.</span><br />
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"I guess I will see how this unfolds.." I told myself.</span><br />
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I'm rarely skeptical about how I think I will perform in a race. Nervous, yes. Skeptical, not so much.</span><br />
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Kristi and I got our car packed up with far more than necessary and set off to Flag! We left around one and figured to get up there by five. We would pick up my bib, check-in to our hotel, grab some dinner and call it a night. It was all planned out.</span><br />
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As we all know, things don't always go exactly as planned. An accident caused a major back-up on the way up, pushing our arrival time back a couple of hours. We eventually got up there and hurried to get everything situated, finally settling into our hotel room around nine thirty.</span><br />
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To say that the patrons in the room above us were loud would be an understatement. To say that this particular hotel took pride in the construction of their building, would be a bold face lie.</span><br />
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Every step they would take would send creaks and cracks throughout our room. It was as if the divide between us was made of paper.</span><br />
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"Hopefully they'll go to bed soon.." I sadly moaned to Kristi. "I'll never be able to sleep through this."</span><br />
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Well, That wasn't the case. Oh no, no, no. These people must enjoy exercising in the late hours of the night. It sounded like they were doing laps around their bed. Creaks and cracks sounded through the night, sending sadness and frustration through my veins.</span><br />
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"I can't believe this shit!" I cried in frustration.</span><br />
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"Why does this always happen to us..?" I moaned remembering similar past experiences that haunt me to this day. "So much for getting any sleep.."</span><br />
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At some point I managed to doze off, only to be jolted right out of my slumber by the alarm clock. It was too early. I was too tired. I didn't care about the damn race, I just wanted to go back to sleep. I was so tired as I got my race gear together that I was nauseous. Kristi wasn't much better.</span><br />
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We both whined to each other about how tired we were as we got our stuff in order and departed the "Paper Inn". Good riddance!</span><br />
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We arrived at Fort Tuthill County Park and got our area set up. I would be doing eight 13k loops underneath gigantic pine trees. Eight loops is a lot of loops. I knew that it would make this already tough race, even tougher. I could conveniently drop if I wanted to. It would be so easy. So tempting.</span><br />
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Thick dark clouds moved overhead and the smell of rain seasoned the crisp air. It felt like there were storms moving around up there, like they were waiting. Like they were waiting for me to start racing so they could pummel me.</span><br />
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"Geez, I hope it doesn't get stormy. For God sakes, please don't rain.." I whined. Everyone knows all about my luck with weather. I'm like a broken record talking about it already!!</span><br />
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I was in a daze. I fumbled around with my handhelds and waist belt. I couldn't think of what I needed to do. I was confused and sleepy and in no way feeling like racing.</span><br />
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"Are you okay?" Kristi asked me. "You seem out of it.."</span><br />
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"Yeah, I'm alright.." I answered. "Just not sure how this is going to go.."</span><br />
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The time to line up arrived quicker than I would have liked. A staggering eight brave runners gathered around the start as Jamil gave the pre-race briefing. We counted down and off we went!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Harold Benally and I lead the way. I bumped into Harold at packet pick-up the night before and like a good friend, I convinced him to sign up for the 108k! Harold is a talented runner, we've battled once before. I thought it would be nice to have some company out there, so I sold him on the idea. Yes, it was for selfish reasons!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Harold and I cruised together, talking about our goals for the race. Our appreciation for the beautiful single track trail was equal. The towering pines spread shade over the majority of the course, while open vistas allowed incredible views of the surrounding mountain ranges. Short climbs were followed by small descents.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"These little climbs are going to become big one's before the end of the day!" I jokingly quipped to Harold.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The air began to warm up while thick dark clouds remained at bay. I felt out of breath and nauseous, but tried to focus on the beauty that was surrounding me. The two of us quickly passed through the Highlands aid station and continued on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Toward the end of the loop, I realized that the second half of the loop was harder than the first. It's not like there was a lot of climbing involved or anything, it just felt hard. I was out of breath and this was just the beginning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Eight loops of this is going to take it's toll.." I remarked to Harold.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Yeah, it is.." He agreed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Harold and I ran the entire first loop together. We finished that first loop (8.4m) in 1:11:01 and were quickly on our way out for the second. I gave Kristi a quick hug and took off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I was a few seconds ahead of Harold when I left. I continued to see him behind me for the majority of the second loop, but I was slowly extending my lead. As the air warmed up, my nausea became more severe. I finished up the second loop (16.8m) in 2:16:24 on a downward spiral.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I don't feel very good today." I explained to Kristi as she filled my handhelds up. "It's hard to run up here."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I wasn't feeling like running anymore, which was a bad sign being that I was only 2 loops into this madness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As I began the third loop, I crossed paths with Harold as he finished up his second.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Keep it up!" I shouted at him in passing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The third loop was not good. I went into a deep depression and questioned running all together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Why do you do this shit?" I asked myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
At this point there were several other races going on and many other runners on the course. People shouting out "Good job!" or "Nice work!" peppered the airwaves. I tried to muster up some positivity, but the tank was on empty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I don't think I am going to be able to finish this race. There's no way. Not the way I am feeling. Not gonna happen." The voice in my head was badgering me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As I neared the end of the third loop, I noticed my left achilles began to bother me. I was favoring my right leg.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Oh great, now my achilles is screwy. This is just wonderful." I mumbled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Then I caught a toe and went airborne. The timing couldn't have been any better. I was going fast down a steep hill when it happened. I did a full on superman down the hill!! I crashed to the bottom with a loud thud as the exclamation point!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
A few runners in the area stopped and asked if I was okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I got up and brushed myself off. I had to be hurt, I flew fifteen feet through the air and had a crash landing on a pile of rocks. But other than a small cut on my palm, I was completely fine!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
This was my opportunity. This was my chance. This was the perfect window to get hurt, drop out of the race and end the torture! But I was fine... The agony!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I galloped into the turnaround, wrapping up the third loop (25.2m) in 3:27:25.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I don't think I am going to finish the race." I whimpered to Kristi. "I feel so sick to my stomach, my achilles is in pain and I just took a spill. I just don't think it is going to happen."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Kristi remained silent and then calmly said "Make the right decision."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I grabbed my bottles, gave her a hug and began the fourth loop. There was no longer any sign of Harold. I took my time going up the initial climb that now felt much steeper than it did a few loops ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I trudged along at a steady pace despite the sickness brewing inside of my gut. I felt ill and exhausted. I let the pain take over my body and mind. I became negative and decided that this was going to be my last loop.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"This is it. I will finish this loop and call it a day." I made up my mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The majority of the fourth loop was as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. Each step I was closer to getting this ridiculous race over with. I crossed paths with Harold at an intersection in the loop. He was also in a bad place.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"How are you doing?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Slowing down..." He responded. He looked rough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hang in there, bro. I wanted to drop last loop, I didn't want to go on." I explained.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Really?" He asked, looking surprised by my admission.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Yeah, man! Hang in there!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I had a significant lead and just gave the second place runner a pep talk, but I was toasted. Plain and simple. Toasted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As I neared the end of the fourth loop, I noticed the clouds begin to close in. The small patches of blue sky became swallowed up by darkness. The air began to cool.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I pushed myself a bit and finished off the fourth loop (33.6m) in 4:50:10. I asked Kristi to refill my bottles, but I knew I was finished. I had made my decision and I was done. That was it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I feel like shit, I can't go on.." I told her. "Done."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Okay. Why don't you just sit down for a minute." Kristi replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I sat down and looked at my Garmin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I am done. My race is over. I am going to have to run 68 miles today, it's not going to happen.." I cried.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I was fully aware of the distance I signed up for, so I'm not sure why it seemed shocking to me. But these things happen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I sat on that chair with my head hunched over my knees and whined. I was done. It was done.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I can't continue." I said to Kristi.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
It got silent. I sat there and pondered the repercussions of such a weak choice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I can't quit, I'll beat myself up too much if I do.." I sadly admitted. "I have no choice..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I got my bottles, said goodbye and set off. I staggered forward for about a hundred yards before I came to a rumbling stop next to a port-a-potty. I sat on the ground, sick to my stomach and moaned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
A moment made of glass. I sat there contemplating the right move. I am not a quitter. Never. I mean besides the few times, but you know what I mean!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I got up and started to run. The initial climb, that was once an anthill, had morphed into Mount Everest. I made it to the top, gasping for breath. I was dizzy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I stood there wavering back and fourth. The sky completely closed up and began to spit on me. Hail pelted my bare skin. The temperature dropped considerably and I began shivering.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The cold forced me to move with more energy. I began to run faster and faster.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I sprinted forward with new found motivation... To quit!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"This is ridiculous!" I yelled!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
My hands began to freeze up. I continued ahead, talking to everyone that I passed about the madness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Excuse me, I'm the idiot with no shirt on.."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The hail and rain raged on, causing the trail to become flooded. The mud became an issue, flying in every direction. I ran and ran. I ran through the muck, I was done with this shit..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Then all of a sudden, I realized I wasn't. I wasn't done. The storm had moved through and the cold weather put a little pep in my step!! I was cruising, splashing through puddles along the way. The air warmed up again and I regained feeling in my fingers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I passed through the Highlands aid station and caught up with a runner by the name of Adam Sumner, who was racing the 54k. Adam latched on and the two of us cruised for a bit talking about the storm that just whaled on us. I became aware that I had a new energy level. I was running with some authority again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I pulled away from Adam and continued to hold onto a reasonable pace, despite nausea wringing out my stomach like a soiled wash cloth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Maybe I can grind this thing out after all.." I thought to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As I approached the turnaround, I got a dose of adrenaline. I was free from the thoughts of quitting for the first time in quite awhile. I began daydreaming of finishing the race. I thought about crossing the finish line and shouting "I did it!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I galloped in wearing a small grin, wrapping up the fifth loop (41.9m) in 6:18:23.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I took a seat while Kristi refilled my bottles. I decided to "test-out" a new squeezable food product, which seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.. You know, since my stomach was more delicate than fine china.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
After a quick dry heave, I got up and grabbed my bottles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Why do I do this shit?" I said to Kristi looking for some sort of condolence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Why do<i> I </i>do this shit?" She said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I set off on the sixth loop feeling more confident than I had in quite awhile. I power hiked the first steep hill and as soon as I topped out, I began to gag. The confidence was short lived as I stumbled off the trail.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Oh man.." I moaned. "I shouldn't of tested out that God-forsaken gel.. Scott Jurek lied to me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I tried to throw up but couldn't muster up a thing. I got back on the trail and ran for a few hundred yards before collapsing to the ground again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
With all of my might, I tried to release the vile contents of my stomach. But nothing would happen. I dragged myself up and began to run again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
This was my new routine; Run, stagger off the trail to dry heave, run.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The temperature had risen again and I felt overheated, which intensified the nausea. Dark clouds swarmed around above, threatening another attack. I staggered forward.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Remarkably, I crossed paths with Harold once again in the small intersection of the loop. What were the chances of that?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I just want to throw up.." I cried to him. "Is that to much to ask? But it won't happen. It just won't.." I was being serious, but was also trying to make both of us laugh. Trying to lighten it up a little.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Harold looked worked. He had picked up a pacer, but they were both walking. I had a huge lead and was no longer concerned with being caught. Finishing this thing however, that was still a major concern.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
After both of us wished each other well, we continued on our individual battles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I passed through the Highlands aid station without skipping a beat. I had spent the first half of the loop trying to throw up and hadn't eaten anything. The thought of putting something down my throat was enough to make me gag.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I began using other runners ahead of me as targets. A form of motivation to run. I would run as fast as I could, catch up, say hello, yada, yada, yada, I'd be on my way. One runner after another.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I soon caught up with a runner and pulled ahead. We chatted briefly and I picked up my pace to pull away. Wouldn't you know, so did he! He hung onto my heels and the two of us maintained a nice pace while chatting away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
It was just what I needed! I got to meet Shawn Cleary, a runner from Tempe. He was having a tough fourth and final loop of the 54k. We both helped each other out just by enjoying the company.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I am really glad you passed by me.." Shawn said. "I was having a terrible time."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"You helped me as well!" I admitted. "I don't think I would have kept up the pace."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As we neared the end of the loop, I began to pull away from Shawn. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of a sudden the sky closed back up and the clouds dropped down upon us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Oh man, it's going to get ugly.." I thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
A flash popped uncomfortably close. I braced myself, but was still shaken to the core by the thunder that followed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Is this the end?" one runner yelled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"No, just another race I'm a part of!" I shouted as I ran by.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
As I cruised in, the rain began falling harder. The temperature dropped. The wind whipped around. Lightning popped. It was madness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I finished up the sixth loop (50.3m) as the apocalypse neared in a time of 7:49:17.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I can't believe this is happening again!" I shouted at Kristi. "I don't even want to do this anymore. Ridiculous."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Everything was soaked. Kristi was soaked. She had packed everything up except the cooler, my running gear and food. The wind was blowing and the rain was pounding down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Harold dropped. You can sit underneath a tent and wait this thing out and still win it.." Kristi replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Why does she have to be so damn supportive and encouraging?" I thought to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Don't worry about me, worry about you." She replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
This chick was serious. I was going to have to head back into the storm, she left me no choice. The nerve!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Okay, gimme my shirt and arm sleeves.." I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I threw my shirt on and slipped on some arm sleeves. I knew they'd pretty much be useless, but I didn't have anything else with me. I decided last minute to leave my rain shell at home.. I guess past experience has taught me NOTHING!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I grabbed my bottles, gave Kristi a hug and staggered over to the aid station.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Knowing that I hadn't eaten much in the last couple hours, I nibbled on a bean burrito while the rain whaled on me. It was a precious moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Jamil walked over to me and smiled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"I am so tired of this shit!" I barked at him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"What?" He responded with nothing but seriousness written on his face.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I am still not sure whether Jamil honestly didn't know what I meant or if he was just playing stupid. Either way, dude is mysterious!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"The weather!!" I screamed!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
He started laughing and so did I.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"You want a shell?" He offered, peeling off his rain jacket.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hell yeah, man!" I accepted (for the record, he was wearing two shells).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"You're about to have some really nice weather.." Jamil informed me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I took off on the seventh loop thinking he must be out of his mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Really nice weather.. Yeah."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
It was exciting and invigorating to start that seventh loop! I knew that the next loop would be the LAST loop! I felt pretty damn legit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Moments after I topped the first climb, the rain began to let up. I took the shell off and tied it to my waist. A cool breeze replaced the whipping wind and flying rain. Creases in the clouds allowed sunlight to spray majestic rays upon the tree tops.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Really nice weather..." I thought to myself. "The weather whisperer was right!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
The remainder of the seventh loop was pretty much easy going and besides some muddy spots, great running conditions. Ultra running is such an amazing journey of emotions. I could see the light shining in my eyes. I lost all the aches and pains that had plagued me for so long.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Okay, I lost <i>most </i>of the aches and pains that had plagued me for so long. I could smell the finish.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I wrapped up the seventh loop (58.7m) in 9:18.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I had arrived at the "sacred" final loop!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Conversations were short and sweet at the turnaround as the excitement of finishing was building. Kristi handed me my bottles filled with fresh, thirst-quenching ice water. A flawless day of crewing was complete!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I latched onto a rhythm that worked for me as I began the final loop. I was spent. Just spent. I needed to focus on running. That was all I needed to think about. Run. So simple, yet so difficult.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I passed through the Highlands aid station for the last time, grabbed a slice of watermelon and carried on. A couple miles to the finish, I realized that going under 11 hours was within grasp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Run it out.." I mumbled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I put my head down and picked up my pace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I ran and ran. I approached the finish. The excitement increased. I began sprinting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Am I going to be one of <i>those</i> guys?" I asked myself. "Flying through the finish like a bat outta hell.."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hell yeah I am!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I shot through the finish line (67.88m) in 10:53:03!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
It was over. A seemingly impossible feat was accomplished. I stood there, out of breath. I couldn't believe I was able to do it and at the same time, it seemed like just another day on the run. Another day in the mountains. Another day doing what I am so unbelievably blessed to do!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I soaked in the moment. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tale of two races. Two races as far different as they could possibly be. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Adrenaline was fittingly just that; Adrenaline. I rode a high that lasted the entire race. Never a doubt. I knew from the second the race began that I was going to destroy the course and the competition. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Big Pine was a roller coaster of emotion. I dipped into lows so severe that I can't find words that would adequately describe how miserable I felt. I was all but finished, but somehow found a way to continue. It was a journey of self discovery. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Winning both races was a nice touch. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would like to thank Kristi for being there to support me, to push me to never settle. To love me despite my insanity. You are an amazing person. Your selflessness is something to be admired. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, a huge thanks to Aravaipa Running for these incredible events that we are all so lucky to participate in. I'm a proud member of the <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/team-aravaipa/">Aravaipa Racing Team</a> and it's an honor to represent this amazing family!! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The additional support provided by <a href="http://ultraspire.com/">UltrAspire</a>, <a href="http://www.pearlizumi.com/">Pearl Izumi</a>, <a href="http://feeturesrunning.com/">Feetures!</a> and <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> is greatly appreciated!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Until next time...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
<br />
Here are some numbers for your noggin' with the combined race statistics;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<i>Total distance- </i>100.66 miles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<i>Total time-</i> 14:53:12</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<i>Average pace-</i> 8:52 per mile</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<i>Total elevation gain-</i> 6,880 feet</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<i>Amount of times I dry heaved at Big Pine-</i> 27ish</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Number of wins- 2</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKA0VnSO2VSd89PC5KoOCuZPP-yXkdfcowWo7NmsEHikN9AZBxol4GqvXLighdAKqOIxLEhwibmIHVoqZ-SDB0lvhrWhn6f0oo0deyuPRe19uGawy358j9arDqxLrPrIbHhr-17UcLig/s1600/11377158_10207128084788414_467753076021272853_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKA0VnSO2VSd89PC5KoOCuZPP-yXkdfcowWo7NmsEHikN9AZBxol4GqvXLighdAKqOIxLEhwibmIHVoqZ-SDB0lvhrWhn6f0oo0deyuPRe19uGawy358j9arDqxLrPrIbHhr-17UcLig/s400/11377158_10207128084788414_467753076021272853_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing up Adrenaline!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<span id="goog_1157781672"></span><span id="goog_1157781673"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hPrMLIF5Ght0T_Y3Tg-1Hy5wGK4B8kKfX6PWPaVvQR6qHaIXqCQQ1IZmWo2bfv5DD8EsFVOeg6amDeePf8xy0H3VVLQpleD6QgvlUUOpJ3lDaaqnUPFu4VpTrRGA3MW60sfgnVBm1Q/s1600/IMG_2433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hPrMLIF5Ght0T_Y3Tg-1Hy5wGK4B8kKfX6PWPaVvQR6qHaIXqCQQ1IZmWo2bfv5DD8EsFVOeg6amDeePf8xy0H3VVLQpleD6QgvlUUOpJ3lDaaqnUPFu4VpTrRGA3MW60sfgnVBm1Q/s400/IMG_2433.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrapping up Big Pine!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusmekp2eWpoRAkUwwdhxMLMR9O5be_j0Nu5aE-XGWqqhJsRD-lX4AO3COHErTSHMcWoCag7CYbkCm1oeSHkR82MX11_d4zoB0IwW396eubUfTSxri5G-RDr5LPIjizfyDbmiT7n1SeQ/s1600/11401176_10207223165085362_8249364123577910590_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhusmekp2eWpoRAkUwwdhxMLMR9O5be_j0Nu5aE-XGWqqhJsRD-lX4AO3COHErTSHMcWoCag7CYbkCm1oeSHkR82MX11_d4zoB0IwW396eubUfTSxri5G-RDr5LPIjizfyDbmiT7n1SeQ/s400/11401176_10207223165085362_8249364123577910590_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congratulated by Rob Krar himself! (pulling for you at Western!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkdkPOhBcuwrAGHBpwF1KJuRvAJn66F-dl2l-2uVU9lr8Qw2IIn9CfDf2FO7V3JbgLhd1AKKO0c8TWOkA076iT7sgvVL75cKvBjDixurNq5a9w9iNcbqntbQDLwwa4URaCbWCC5Y5LA/s1600/IMG_3605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkdkPOhBcuwrAGHBpwF1KJuRvAJn66F-dl2l-2uVU9lr8Qw2IIn9CfDf2FO7V3JbgLhd1AKKO0c8TWOkA076iT7sgvVL75cKvBjDixurNq5a9w9iNcbqntbQDLwwa4URaCbWCC5Y5LA/s400/IMG_3605.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lizard Loot!<br />
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<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwLbA1xtmlES_LqYQlB5YJOxV4OvhxrPncNSYKS-cMtTmwGZs54oGxLcXSP0qmKcZorBiXaHem76TN35nIqDTYlWbmYDYxbZoESauFVK6FsZOFZ1I3IBlVgKK56XucLzG_wzRRM-kmQ/s1600/IMG_3607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwLbA1xtmlES_LqYQlB5YJOxV4OvhxrPncNSYKS-cMtTmwGZs54oGxLcXSP0qmKcZorBiXaHem76TN35nIqDTYlWbmYDYxbZoESauFVK6FsZOFZ1I3IBlVgKK56XucLzG_wzRRM-kmQ/s400/IMG_3607.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drink from the cup of life!! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-73490388369092304552015-05-03T14:31:00.004-07:002015-05-03T15:13:01.658-07:00Zane Grey 2015<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For those of you that know me, most are probably aware of last years theme when it came to race day weather; shitty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
<a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey</a> was one of those races that was affected by weather. A blizzard crashed the party and the race was called at 33 miles..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
For some reason people started blaming the poor weather on me because I was always there. I've been called a curse or bad luck. Like I control the weather or something.. Crazy. Just plain crazy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
So when I decided to jump into Zane Grey about a month prior to race day, the hecklers came out swinging!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Oh, great. Sion's doing the race now, better pack your rain gear!!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
or</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I'm gonna lock you in the trunk of a car if the weather is bad."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
C'mon!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
But the curse was over. If it was ever an <i>actual </i>curse. Three races in the book thus far, all free from torrential rainstorms or freak blizzards. Old Pueblo had the best weather in the four years that I've run it. We can all move on. Curse over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Then it happened. Five days to the race. Just a nonchalant glance at the Facebook feed was enough to send me into a state of shock and disbelief. The weather reports for Zane Grey were now predicting RAIN.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"This has to be some kind of cruel joke.." I thought to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
But after checking a few different sources, it was confirmed. It was indeed supposed to rain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Maybe... Maybe <i>I am </i>cursed." I said in a laugh peppered with sadness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I clung on to the hope that it would be cloudy and cool, but that the rain would hold off. At least until I finish the race..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I've been punished enough. Give me a pass!" I exclaimed while shaking my fist in the air!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
For those unfamiliar with the <a href="http://zanegrey50.com/">Zane Grey 50</a>, it's not for the faint of heart. The course runs 51 miles along the Highline Trail from Pine to Christopher Creek. Rocks upon rocks blanket the trail, forcing all attention to be paid, or you pay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
It's been described as one of the hardest 50 milers in North America. It's slogan is percolating; "The toughest, roughest, most beautiful 50 mile trail run in the country."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I am drawn to challenges. I want to be tested. I crave the agony. I daydream about gasping for breath on the steepest of climbs. I was once completely lost, now I get lost to feel complete.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I trained my ass off for this wonderful punishment. I was ready, rain or shine. I figured if I ran a smart race, I could finish under 10 hours.. I was hoping to go under 9:30.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
On a cloudy Friday afternoon, Kristi and I stuffed our car like a Thanksgiving turkey and made a beeline on the Beeline for Payson.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
We arrived in Payson around six and were greeted by cool and cloudy conditions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"If it's like this tomorrow, that would be spectacular.." I thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
After picking up my bib and a quick stop for dinner with some friends, Kristi and I settled into our hotel room for the night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I managed to get a few winks of sleep and morning arrived right on time. We got ourselves in order, I choked down my mandatory bowl of oatmeal and off we went.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
We arrived at the Pine Trailhead with about a half hour to spare. The conditions were perfect. It was cloudy and cool. No rain to speak of. A touch of moisture in the air. I breathed in the freshness. I thought about the adventure that awaits.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I am so fortunate that I get to do this stuff. People think it's "insane" that I enjoy spending all day running in the mountains. I think it's insane to not see the freedom in it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I've been a prisoner within myself. I've locked myself in a decrepit apartment for days wishing for an escape. Fearing the outside. Hoping for an intervention.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I've had my intervention. I've made my escape.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Time quickly evaporated and a group of like-minded adventurers lined up for the start. I said bye to Kristi and made my way to the front.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I was fully aware that there would be a large group that would take off at a completely unreasonable pace. While a few would probably be able to hang onto the pace, the majority would not. I am finally beginning to understand how I must run my races. I need to let the lead pack go. It has been one of the hardest things to teach myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Let 'em go.." I mumbled under my breath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
The countdown ensued and off we went!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I assumed several runners would bolt off, but I didn't expect over twenty runners to imitate the start of a 5k..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Damn, that's a little over ambitious.." I thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
But I remained disciplined.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"You'll see 'em later on, Sion.." I told myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
The race starts out with a substantial climb. I eased into my run, hiking a few of the steeper parts. A few more runners passed by me, their breathing already labored.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I crested the initial climb and the sun poked underneath a thick blanket of clouds on the horizon. The view was magnificent. I felt really loose and shockingly relaxed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
After several detours to water the shrubs, I figured I was in around 25th place. As much as I wanted to freak out about that, I reminded myself that I had 45 miles to catch up!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Just run your race and they'll come back to you."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Eight miles into the race I reached the Camp Geronimo aid station with a few other runners. I didn't need anything, so I didn't skip a beat. I cruised up some switchbacks and began to catch up with another runner.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I followed the other runner up an extremely steep section when all of a sudden I realized he was leading me off course. I did the same thing at Black Canyon and lost about 30 minutes in the process! This time I realized it right away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey, you're going the wrong way!!" I yelled to him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Oh.. I just wanted to do this climb!" He cynically responded.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
We both got back on course and I began to pull away from him. I eventually caught up with another runner who had an interesting sense of style. He was wearing Luna Sandals and a half shirt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Bringing back the 80's with the half shirt!" I jokingly quipped.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"It's all I could find." He responded with what was un-mistakingly seriousness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Alright.." I mumbled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Not sure if it was the awkward conversation, but I got energized and pulled away from him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"That was interesting.."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I soon caught up with another runner. He seemed to be running a good pace and I settled in behind him. We cruised together, talking about the race and what position we were in. What our goals were and how we got into ultra running. He introduced himself as Jesse Scott.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Jesse and I clicked off several miles together before I let him pull away. The pace had become a bit strenuous and I felt like it was beginning to feel forced. I took a quick breather and sucked down a Honey Stinger gel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Run your race." I reminded myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I soon neared the Washington Park aid station at 17 miles. I was excited to see Kristi and was in need of a mental boost. Last year, I was already losing feeling in all my extremities by the time I made it to Washington Park. Fortunately, the weather had remained perfect on this day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I came rumbling into the aid station feeling quite optimistic. Kristi and Dallas helped me get refueled and I was on my way. Those brief moments can really give you a shot of adrenaline!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgab_FEQGdOL_jc5dIEq9MkiXBZIHzCuz7UfnEEjM5MEp25wTSskaLdZam1VE_bshG2VRiJOe7I2UBT9fhotYoIFZqu473wp3qSi3Kj0yqiar5XygXhZpGr53ulb5hugEDual9dq5kNVg/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgab_FEQGdOL_jc5dIEq9MkiXBZIHzCuz7UfnEEjM5MEp25wTSskaLdZam1VE_bshG2VRiJOe7I2UBT9fhotYoIFZqu473wp3qSi3Kj0yqiar5XygXhZpGr53ulb5hugEDual9dq5kNVg/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Washington Park ~17 miles</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I felt really good as I climbed out of Washington Park. I soon caught back up with Jesse and eventually passed him. The trail constantly changes. The next section was filled with tall grass, making it impossible to see where your feet are actually landing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I saw a runner ahead of me looking like he was struggling with the grassy trail.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey, man. How are you doing?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
He completely ignored me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I guess I'll try again!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Twenty miles into the race, How do you feel?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Umm, I am really hungry.." He said in a voice void of emotion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Ya know, so am I.." I added.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
And I was. I had an insatiable appetite and this guy just made me fully aware of it. I was constantly eating but nothing was making a dent in my hunger pains.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I shouldn't have asked. Now I realize how hungry I am!!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I quickly pulled away and spent the next few miles running solo. The views were astounding and the trail relentless. Up and down. Rocks. Grass. Logs. Rocks. And Rocks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Overall, I felt solid. My attitude remained positive and I enjoyed the scenery and surroundings. I soon made it to the Hell's Gate Canyon aid station at 23.5 miles. Another runner was on his way out as I arrived.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"How's everyone doing!?" I shouted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I felt good. I was chipping away. Slowly but surely. I refueled, chomped on a pretzel or two and took off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
There was a nice steep climb out of Hell's Gate. I power hiked all of it and topped out. I stopped to soak in the scenery. I was breathing hard, so I allowed myself to catch my breath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I hit 25 miles at 4:45.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"There is no way I'm going under 10 hours.." I sadly thought. "I would need an almost even split to achieve that.. That's not gonna happen."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I shook myself out of the disappointment and refocused on the race. I caught up with the runner I had seen at Hell's Gate and we cruised together for the next couple miles. I got to meet Andy Pearson, a solid runner from California. We both agreed that the weather was absolutely perfect and that the course was challenging and breathtaking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I let Andy lead the way for awhile, but eventually felt the urge to pull away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey, I'm going to push it a little bit." I said as I passed by him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"That's cool. Go ahead." He replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I'll probably see you in a few minutes!" I shouted as I put the gas pedal down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
While I hoped I wasn't going to see him, I knew there was a chance I was making a mistake. This was that point in the race that I had to take a chance. I had to take a risk. It was time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
My pace picked up and I was willing to see what I was capable of. I passed another runner or two before making it to the Fish Hatchery aid station at 33 miles. This is where the race was called last year. I was excited to see the rest of the course!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRLVX-FHE04cROm9EbzUgLZstd2JgUjKPmBYPg0qttVvuuxyMRn19p5kbtGTvA7UTwiV71Qgp7WyZYaEpeK477X6Gnk7UvCwTKKJvnheItiuvTG_ehzitZBoWn5TzupaBNxa8HrkmAQ/s1600/IMG_3162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRLVX-FHE04cROm9EbzUgLZstd2JgUjKPmBYPg0qttVvuuxyMRn19p5kbtGTvA7UTwiV71Qgp7WyZYaEpeK477X6Gnk7UvCwTKKJvnheItiuvTG_ehzitZBoWn5TzupaBNxa8HrkmAQ/s1600/IMG_3162.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fish Hatchery ~33 miles</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Kristi helped me get loaded up and on track and I was quickly on my way. The next stretch was crucial. It would be over eleven miles to the next aid station. I knew it was important to push the pain aside and remember that I train for this. This next stretch would define my race.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I was warned about the climb coming out of Fish Hatchery. I kept waiting for it, but it was pretty much more of the same. I passed another runner. Then another one. I was in cruise control.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Soon a familiar face appeared coming in my direction. It was fellow Tucson Trail Runner, Bob Bachani!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"That's what I'm taking about!" Bob screamed at me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey, man! Good to see you!" I yelled back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Nate's about a minute ahead of you, you're doing great!" He informed me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Thanks!" On I went.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I'm not sure if he was just trying to give me a boost, telling me that Nate (Polaske) was a minute ahead. Or was he really just a minute ahead? Either way, I put the hammer down trying to catch my <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/team-aravaipa/">Aravaipa Racing</a> teammate!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I passed another runner on what was probably the most grueling climb of the entire race. He looked shot, like he could hardly move.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Nice climb, isn't it?.." I said as I moved ahead of him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
All I got in response was a grunt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
He looked like hell. I was feeling more and more energized.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
A few guys working communications were up ahead at a split in the trail.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Five miles to aid." One of them said pointing me in the right direction. "How do you feel?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Time of my life!" I shouted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Five more miles to aid seemed like an eternity. This was going to be a long grind. I knew if I could get to the last aid station at 44 miles, I would be almost done. So I pushed the pain deeper inside of me. The nagging voice telling me to stop, to take a break, kept barking in my ear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I maintained my pace. No sign of Nate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Dang, it would have been nice to catch him.." I muttered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
Pretty soon someone running toward me yelled "One mile to the aid station, all smooth downhill from here!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
That shook me out of my lethargy and I picked up my pace. I knew that I was getting toward the end of the race and that I was going to finish strong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I cruised down the rest of the descent and made it to See Canyon aid station at 44 miles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdtm0pgUbxkVqKuVo9fUe-ytTs1UqVSATPxro4Vm26IfE3FSfEtRx9HadkQA1kLezIAt7k8xD_gX4oJF137qo-XMZycDrY-zMuUP7mhcZyGyQ2S93uV2_Wp1GyF2HMySADlJWqDbS6Q/s1600/IMG_3113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdtm0pgUbxkVqKuVo9fUe-ytTs1UqVSATPxro4Vm26IfE3FSfEtRx9HadkQA1kLezIAt7k8xD_gX4oJF137qo-XMZycDrY-zMuUP7mhcZyGyQ2S93uV2_Wp1GyF2HMySADlJWqDbS6Q/s1600/IMG_3113.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">See Canyon ~44 miles</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"How are you doing?" Kristi asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I'm ready to be done.." I said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
And I was. I was gassed. I hadn't paid much attention to my time since the halfway mark, but realized I was only a little over 8 hours in and only had six or seven miles to go.. I could go under 10! As I became enveloped in this moment of clarity, I heard cheering for another runner coming. I looked up and sure enough, another runner was barreling down the trail toward the aid station.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Okay, babe. Gotta go.." Kristi said while nudging me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I listened and took off for the homestretch!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I didn't want to be passed. Hell, I hadn't been passed all damn day. I dug deep and found some spirit inside of me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
All of a sudden I noticed another runner ahead, struggling up the steep. I recognized this guy. It was my local training buddy and good friend, Charlie Ware! I quickly caught up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey, man!" I shouted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Hey.." He replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"How's it going?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"I'm gonna finish." He reassured me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
"Brutal, isn't it?" I quipped as I pulled ahead. "Keep it up!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
On I went. If I didn't say that gave me an added boost, I would be lying. Charlie and I train together. We are both very competitive and have battled several times in races. Of course it gave me a boost!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
The last few miles were a blur. I was running a faster pace than I had ran the entire day. I turned a corner and I saw the finish.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I bolted full speed ahead through the finish line! I looked up at the timer and realized I had gone under 9:30!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I gave Kristi a long hug. I had done exactly what I set out to do and had ran a negative split on a really tough course to do it. I finished in 9:23:44, good for 8th place.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
The moment I finished the race, the rain began to fall. It was as if I got that pass I so desperately wanted! Apparently, it got pretty soggy out there.. Sorry guys!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I feel like I am just beginning to understand what I am capable of. I haven't been passed by a runner in the last two races I've ran. Only once in the last three. I must say, it's far more entertaining to pass the carnage, than to be the carnage!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I loved the course and plan to return next year with a goal time of under 9 hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
I want to thank <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running</a>, <a href="http://www.pearlizumi.com/">Pearl Izumi</a>, <a href="http://ultraspire.com/">Ultraspire</a>, <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> and <a href="http://feeturesrunning.com/index.php">Feetures!</a> for the support! And Kristi for crewing and helping me live out my dream!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Big congrats to our Tucson runners that represented! I would like to personally name all of you, but I would also like to stop writing.. You know who you are!!<br />
<br />
Until next time...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR9v4ALkhfa7EtSSNDoTv27_-krYZn8iFDHvF1_ulUy9K2Hgv5uchxfvfzglAeW4QMr2Y-LE1Kegxf0jdNGN_KPw1zDbcVGxDI_8jHCo7KHs_wJBYZDRyruGE_gmDlVZAApnApiM8aQ/s1600/IMG_3161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR9v4ALkhfa7EtSSNDoTv27_-krYZn8iFDHvF1_ulUy9K2Hgv5uchxfvfzglAeW4QMr2Y-LE1Kegxf0jdNGN_KPw1zDbcVGxDI_8jHCo7KHs_wJBYZDRyruGE_gmDlVZAApnApiM8aQ/s1600/IMG_3161.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finish line festivities with my homeboys!<br />
Nate Polaske (6th place) and Charlie Ware (10th place)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
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~<i> All photographs courtesy of Kristina McCauley</i><br />
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-2767567761982355972015-02-16T16:59:00.000-08:002015-02-17T05:24:42.239-08:00Black Canyon 100KWhen I began laying out my racing schedule for 2015, one race was clearly calling my name; <a href="http://aravaiparunning.com/network/blackcanyon/">The Black Canyon 100K.</a><br>
<br>
The Black Canyon 100K is a point to point race that runs from Spring Valley to New River, AZ. Point to point races are far more intriguing than loop courses. I mean, you aren't going to end up where you began. Instead, you are going to end up in a place far, far away. It's exciting!<br>
<br>
In addition to my excitement about the course, Black Canyon is part of the <a href="http://ultracup.montrail.com/overview.aspx">Montrail Ultra Cup</a>, meaning the top 2 female and top 2 male finishers would automatically qualify for entry into the prestigious <a href="http://www.wser.org/">Western States 100</a>. This race was going to bring some talent.<br>
<br>
While aware that the chances of me punching a ticket to Western were nearly impossible, I was excited to test my skills on the national level, against some of the best. My two attempts at running the 100 mile distance were both hampered by some unfortunate circumstances, so this would also be my furthest race to date.<br>
<br>
As race day drew closer, the prediction for the weather grew increasingly more interesting. This wouldn't be the kind of interesting that plagued my races last year. Nope. In typical Arizona fashion, this race was going to be a scorcher!!<br>
<br>
Training wise everything went smoothly. Kristi and I managed to find a neat (creepy) lodge right outside of Mayer, located just minutes from the start. We managed to catch a few hours of sleep in what was surprisingly the quietest room on the face of the planet. Strangely, staying in a desolate lodge in the middle of nowhere on Friday the 13th isn't all that scary..<br>
<br>
Raceday morning quickly arrived and I fumbled to get myself put together. As I walked down a flight of stairs, I realized that my right achilles was really tender.<br>
<br>
"Whaaat??" I said under my breath.<br>
<br>
I put some pressure on the ball of my foot and lifted myself up.<br>
<br>
"Ow." I said. This time not under my breath.<br>
<br>
My achilles was in pain. How could this be? I tapered very carefully. Had I tapered <i>too</i> carefully? I tried to ignore it and chose not to mention it to Kristi either. I knew it wasn't bad enough to keep me from running, so why feed it any energy.<br>
<br>
We arrived at Mayer High School, where I picked up my bib and did the usual pre-race mingle. The wind whipped around fiercely sending shivers down my spine. I soaked in the coolness as I thought ahead at what was to come.<br>
<br>
What was to come, wouldn't disappoint.<br>
<br>
More than a hundred runners all lined up. Jamil went over some course instructions, which can be summed up to; Head down the road, get on the trail and head towards Phoenix..<br>
<br>
I gave Kristi a hug and whispered "See you on the other side.."<br>
<br>
The amount of talent standing at the front of the pack was a little intimidating. I said a few encouraging words to myself as the countdown dwindled down. The race was underway!!<br>
<br>
I had a plan going into this race and I was going to follow it. For God sakes, I was going to follow my plan! I watched the lead pack quickly pull away. I started to run faster and began to gain on them. Then I pulled back.<br>
<br>
"Follow your game plan." I reminded myself as a few other runners cruised ahead.<br>
<br>
I settled into a nice pace and enjoyed the freshness of morning. I watched the sunrise paint the desert with a golden glow. I galloped upon a few other runners and the four of us ran together for the next several miles.<br>
<br>
Antelope Mesa aid station was just a blur as I cruised right through. My achilles was tender but I was certain in wasn't going to be a major issue. It was just going to be painful and like Scott Jurek would say, "pain only hurts."<br>
<br>
It was beginning to warm up as I left Hidden Mine AS with a couple other runners. I was really relaxed and focused on taking in salt and electrolytes, knowing that the heat was getting ready to wail on all of us.<br>
<br>
One of the guys I met was Jacob Singleton. Jacob cruised effortlessly and I could tell he was feeling good. At just under 20 miles, the three of us rolled into Bumble Bee AS. We all ferociously stuffed various food items in our mouth. I looked up and saw Jacob fly off into the distance as I quickly gave chase.<br>
<br>
I kept Jacob in view for a mile or so before I convinced myself to get back to running my race. A wise friend gave me some advice and it was ringing through my head; "Only you can effect your race."<br>
<br>
I suffered through a rough patch for the next few miles and began doubting weather I could finish the race. I began thinking about an interview that Sage Canaday did following his recent win at <a href="http://www.thenorthface.com/en_US/endurance-challenge/san-francisco-championship/?stop_mobi=yes">The North Face Endurance Challenge</a>. He described reminding himself during low points, that he chooses to run.<br>
<br>No one is making me do this. I do this because I love to run. I got a little spirit back.<br>
<br>
I made my way to Gloria Mine AS, along with a couple other runners slightly ahead. I grabbed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took off.<br>
<br>
As I zigzagged up the switchbacks, I looked back towards the aid station. Neither of the other runners were following behind. If I said that it doesn't make me feel good when I start to pick off runners, I would be lying. It gave me a boost and I fell into a very nice groove.<br>
<br>
The sun began to beat down with a little more enthusiasm, so the first creek crossing was a welcoming sight. I could see another runner enjoying the gift of mother nature as I approached. I quickly realized that this wasn't just another runner, it was Hal frickin-Koerner.<br>
<br>
I filled my handheld with the stream water and poured it over my head. The cool water was invigorating. I filled it up again and twisted the lid on. I started up the switchbacks and passed Hal. I introduced myself to him and we talked briefly. He wasn't feeling very good and looked to be struggling a little. I wished him luck and was on my way.<br>
<br>
I got a nice burst of energy as I made some separation from Hal. It was obvious that my choice to wear my pack was a smart move. I was sucking down water, taking in salt and chomping on Honey Stinger chews. I had my handheld filled with cool creek water that I was using to cool myself down with.<br>
<br>
I was in high spirits as I trotted into Soap Creek AS.<br>
<br>
I joked around with the volunteers a bit, feeling very relaxed. I was in a good place. I wasted very little time and was on my way.<br>
<br>
The Black Canyon Trail is rugged. It goes up and down. It has rocks. Lots of them. Shade, not so much. The heat was increasing and the trail was beginning to beat me up. I, again, reminded myself that this is what I train for. I passed a couple more runners and got a needed boost.<br>
<br>
There is a small out and back section as you make your way into Black Canyon City. The women leader, Caroline Boller, flew by me as she headed back out with my Aravaipa Racing Teammate, Kristina Pham on pacing duties. Then came Jacob Singleton, still looking solid as gold.<br>
<br>
A bearded runner named Taylor Spike, whom I would get to know better, was also on his way out as I arrived at the aid station.<br>
<br>
I joked around a bit with Deron Ruse and refueled. Michele Yates was being tended to after taking a pretty bad fall. The two of us left the aid station at the same time but it was clear that she was in pain. I wished her well and pulled away.<br>
<br>
I quickly caught up with Taylor. We shared a few words and I passed on by. The next few miles were a steady grind. It was blazing hot and if felt like the trail was always going uphill. I have been doing a ton of vertical training and my legs felt surprisingly strong. Then, not so much.<br>
<br>
In the blink of an eye, I felt like I was hit by a train. The heat began to wear on me and I became nauseous. I tried to throw up, but only dry-heaved. I sat down and moaned.<br>
<br>
"Dig deep" I told myself. "You gotta dig deep."<br>
<br>
I picked myself up off the ground and began to run. I wanted to stop, but I repeated the "dig deep" mantra and kept on going. The stretch from Black Canyon City to Cottonwood Gulch was long and dreadful. I scampered into the aid station, overheated and doubtful.<br>
<br>
"How are you feeling?" one of the volunteers asked.<br>
<br>
"It's so hot.." I said while haplessly holding myself up.<br>
<br>
"You want to take a seat there in the shade for a minute?" she said, pointing to a couple of chairs sitting underneath a tent.<br>
<br>
I looked over at the chairs. They were blanketed in shade. They looked so inviting, as if they had a pair of glowing halos hovering over them.<br>
<br>
"No, I can't. If I do, I will never get up.." I sadly admitted.<br>
<br>
I stuffed a handful of ice in my hat and set off, back into the inferno.<br>
<br>
I was able to keep a consistent pace despite the vile feeling and soon it passed. I hit 50 miles and was optimistic about my race. I was still hanging onto a nice pace and had some energy stores left in the bank.<br>
<br>
"This could be a damn good day!" I told myself.<br>
<br>
At 51 and a half miles, I rolled into Table Mesa AS. My stomach was a bit queasy, so I popped a couple tums. Overall, I was in a good place. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. I could finish this thing off. I <i>would</i> finish this thing off.<br>
<br>
I saw Deron again. I walked over and exclaimed, "I cannot wait for this to be over!"<br>
<br>
It was all good. It would be over soon! I took off at a nice clip, the tums worked their magic and my stomach felt settled. I was ready for the last ten mile grind.<br>
<br>
Soon after my excitement for the final stretch came, I approached one of the 50k runners. She was hiking up a steep section of jeep road. I did my best at being encouraging.<br>
<br>
"Good job.." I said as I passed by.<br>
<br>
"I'm just not used to this heat.." she responded, sounding completely deflated.<br>
<br>
"At least we have a little cloud cover" I said while pointing out a thin layer of something trying to impersonate an actual cloud. On I went.<br>
<br>
I soon hit a fork in the road.<br>
<br>
There were no markings in either direction. The fork to the right looked wrong, but so did the fork to the left. I made the determination that going left seemed less wrong being that it went straight up a steep hill. That would make sense!<br>
<br>
I trekked up the hill scanning every direction for a course marking. There in the distance, I saw an orange marking! Relieved, I got a burst of energy and charged up the remainder of the hill. I topped out and looked into the distance.<br>
<br>
I saw NO MARKINGS. I noticed a camper, some ATV's and several people at the bottom of the hill in the distance. I made another wise decision. I went rumbling down the hill, of course!!<br>
<br>
As I got closer, I could see a marking on a fence post.<br>
<br>
"There it is!" I thought.<br>
<br>
As I looked further ahead, I could see that there were red flags on EVERY fence post as far as the eye could see!<br>
<br>
"Oh shit.." I cried. I knew I was in trouble.<br>
<br>
"Hey, you guys see any other runners coming this way??" I asked a group of guys standing there.<br>
<br>
"No.. What runners?" one said.<br>
<br>
"I seen somethin' over there" another one of them said, pointing to a speck in the distance. I looked and to my surprise, Table Mesa AS was remarkably visible in the far distance.<br>
<br>
"No... Not that.. This isn't good." I said under my breath.<br>
<br>
I turned around and went charging back up the steep road. Soon I met back up with the other runner, who was coming the same way.<br>
<br>
"This is the wrong way. Have you seen any markings?" I asked.<br>
<br>
She shook her head.<br>
<br>
"Dammit, this is going to destroy my race!!" I cried.<br>
<br>
Realizing that I missed a turn and that my race was in peril, I wasted no time chatting. The adrenaline was coursing through my veins. I was running a completely unreasonable pace as I went flying back down the hill. I came across the marking I had seen before, but I now realized that it was just an old yellow piece of flagging. It was tattered and worn out, like it had been hanging on that branch for years.<br>
<br>
"Oh my God, you have to be kidding me.."<br>
<br>
I made it back to the fork in the road. My heart was beating out of my chest. I made one last act of brilliance and headed down the other unmarked direction.<br>
<br>
I ran and ran, in full panic, looking for a orange flag. But there were none here. Not a one. Nothing. I turned back around and headed toward the jeep road.<br>
<br>
"This is awful.." I felt completely defeated.<br>
<br>
I got back on the road and began backtracking. I eventually saw a trail cutting up the mountain off of the road. It was marked.<br>
<br>
I am not sure where everything went wrong. I am not sure if I followed the other runner or if she followed me. The one thing that I did know was that I had lost at least 30 minutes, ran a couple extra miles and wasted a ton of precious energy in the process. And conveniently, there was a nice grinding climb waiting for me as soon as I got back on course!<br>
<br>
I figured at least one person passed me during the detour and I had some work to do. This was going to be more challenging than I had anticipated. I went back to the "dig deep" mantra and began hammering away.<br>
<br>
The energy I had expended while I was lost was obvious. I was out of breath, but not out of the game. I tried to stay as positive as possible.<br>
<br>
"It could have been worse.." I convinced myself.<br>
<br>
The next few miles were kind of a blur. I was surprised at how well I was able to recover from my mistake and settle into a groove again.<br>
<br>
Seeing a runner ahead of me shook me out of the trance I was in. There in the distance was Taylor, shuffling up a switchback. I kept at it, trying to close the gap between us. Every time I was able to see him, I was a little closer.<br>
<br>
Abruptly, Doe Spring AS appeared ahead. I saw Taylor standing there refueling as I galloped in.<br>
<br>
"What happened?" He asked.<br>
<br>
"I got off course. 30 minutes off course." I weepingly admitted.<br>
<br>
"I was wondering what happened.. Damn." He said.<br>
<br>
"How much is left?" I asked one of the volunteers.<br>
<br>
"Four miles!" she exclaimed.<br>
<br>
I looked at my Garmin. I had already cracked 60 miles, so this wasn't exactly good news.<br>
<br>
"Alright.. Thanks."<br>
<br>
I grabbed a piece of a pickle, nibbled on it and left.<br>
<br>
I caught up with Taylor and we talked briefly about me getting lost and about the race. He was very encouraging.<br>
<br>
"See you at the end. We should get done by six!"<br>
<br>
My goal time was around ten and a half hours, but that was out due to my dreadful mistake. But if I could finish in 11 hours through the adversity, that would be a huge accomplishment.<br>
<br>
I am not sure where it came from, but it was something of beauty. I began running faster and faster. I came upon another runner.<br>
<br>
"What race are you doing?" he asked.<br>
<br>
"100K" I responded.<br>
<br>
"Great, am I going to have to race you to the finish?" he asked me.<br>
<br>
"I guess so!" I quipped as I jumped over the side of the trail and in front of him.<br>
<br>
I put the hammer down and pulled away.<br>
<br>
I saw the finish line in the distance. It felt like I was running sub-six minute pace!! I crossed the finish line and it was over!<br>
<br>
Kristi was there to congratulate me, as always. While disappointed that I got lost, I was in total shock at how well I was able to finish off the race. That last charge secured my spot in the top ten of male finishers. 12th overall in eleven hours and some change.<br>
<br>
<a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running</a> put on another amazing event. If you want to experience the rugged desert and all that it can dish out, this race is for you. I am already looking forward to returning next year! Who knows, maybe I can go under 10 hours.. Aim high!!<br>
<br>
Thank you for the support- <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/team-aravaipa/">Aravaipa Racing Team</a>, <a href="http://www.pearlizumi.com/">Pearl Izumi</a>, <a href="http://feeturesrunning.com/">Feetures</a>, <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> and Kristi!!<br>
<br>
For a race filled with so much talent, I am beyond proud of what I was able to accomplish. I feel like getting lost showed me what I am capable of. In a strange way, I am glad I got to experience that.<br>
<br>
It proves that when you feel like there is nothing left, there is more;<br>
<br>
You just have to dig deep!!<br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5zBONRfuiCtrDzV9PvvS5WvxhhlWKL4UMjCzvovrOzvyudmTIJKT4-pa-Aiv7CDzEl_JC-Q1nSToX_OFXLPDIGxA2uGCPUQLW7K6fS9TlrgSSpj5qOLJmVGDT_TnbtOK10ImbS9Qtg/s1600/IMG_2680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5zBONRfuiCtrDzV9PvvS5WvxhhlWKL4UMjCzvovrOzvyudmTIJKT4-pa-Aiv7CDzEl_JC-Q1nSToX_OFXLPDIGxA2uGCPUQLW7K6fS9TlrgSSpj5qOLJmVGDT_TnbtOK10ImbS9Qtg/s1600/IMG_2680.JPG" height="400" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finish line fireworks! Photo courtesy of Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<br>Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-82097623907021026992015-02-01T12:10:00.002-08:002015-02-02T14:29:45.873-08:00Coldwater Rumble 52KWhen I think about my venture into ultra running, the <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/coldwater-rumble/">Coldwater Rumble</a> has a significant chapter in that story. I finished off 2012 with a PR at the Tucson Marathon in a time of 02:54:01. I had worked so hard for that time and I was burned out. I wanted to run in the mountains. I wanted to soak in the scenery. For the love of God, I wanted to run on some dirt!!<br />
<br />
I had heard about <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running</a>. I had heard the stories of the Coury brothers putting on quality races in the Phoenix area. So I went to the web and looked them up. I was blown away by the website and all of the races that were on the schedule. "Damn, this looks like a lot of fun right here.." I thought to myself.<br />
<br />
The race I decided on was the Coldwater Rumble 50K. I had one 50 mile race under my belt and was excited to try out a new distance. The race didn't disappoint. I was astounded by the organization of the event(s) and I had a blast racing on some good ol' fashioned DIRT!<br />
<br />
I wound up coming in 5th place and it was at that moment that I realized that I wanted to put marathons on the back burner and focus on running ultras.<br />
<br />
Last year I decided that Coldwater was going to be a regular event for me and I managed a 3rd place finish. I had an absolute blast battling with <a href="http://www.longrunnutrition.com/">Bret Sarnquist</a> and <a href="https://mikecarsonruns.wordpress.com/">Michael Carson</a> and was honored to share a podium finish with those beasts.<br />
<br />
I have been fortunate to acquire some sponsors for 2015, none of which I am more excited about than being chosen as a member of the Aravaipa Racing Team.<br />
<br />
As I set my sights on this years edition of the race, I began to think, "Wouldn't that be rad to win it. Win an Aravaipa event in my first race representing Aravaipa. That would be TITS!"<br />
<br />
I mean, this was the race that propelled me into becoming an ultra runner. This was the race that gave me the motivation to do what I love and forget all the bullshit.<br />
<br />
This was that race!<br />
<br />
So I figured I was going to give it hell and worry about the repercussions later. I wanted to win the damn race.<br />
<br />
My training went great until I decided to bash the side of my left foot on a rock the week before the race (Thanks for the invite, Gabe!). I think I may have suffered some nerve damage but that's neither here nor there.<br />
<br />
After spending the entire week leading up to the race explaining in precise detail the origin of my foot pain to Kristi, we headed off to the Estrella Mountains. It was race day!<br />
<br />
I hadn't noticed anyone that was crazy fast on the entrants list, but that rarely means anything. I figured there was going to be someone that was going to push the pace and I was excited for the suffering that was in store.<br />
<br />
Time quickly ticked by and after a few pre-race pics it was time to line up. I laced up my <a href="http://www.pearlizumi.com/">Pearl Izumi </a>N2's as Jamil went over the course directions. Giddy with excitement, we all hopped up and down like Chris Christie in the Cowboy's press box. Except less awkward. And minus the fondling of Jerry Jones, but you get the idea.<br />
<br />
The countdown commenced and it was time to RUN!<br />
<br />
My Aravaipa teammate, Michael Carson, shot some video as we all sprinted out of the gate. I much prefer getting filmed by him than racing him! I took the lead as a group of us hit the trail. I wanted to put myself in the front and build a decent lead from the beginning. Then I would relax and settle in. That was my plan.<br />
<br />
There seemed to be some flaws in my plan from the very start. There was somebody behind me and he was getting closer. I was pushing a pretty hard pace. Too hard. Too early.<br />
<br />
"I know I'm being an idiot right now.." I sadly thought, "I should pull on the reigns a little.."<br />
<br />
So I backed off a bit and the runner behind me quickly caught up.<br />
<br />
We ran side by side for a mile or so in complete silence.<br />
<br />
"I feel like garbage already.." I thought to myself, "This dude looks like he's on a Sunday stroll.."<br />
<br />
"Hey... You do a lot of ultras? I asked, breaking up the heavy panting.<br />
<br />
"I've done a few. This is just a stepping stone to something else." He responded.<br />
<br />
"A stepping stone to what? What is this guy talking about? Who is this guy?" I pondered<br />
<br />
"How about you?" He asked<br />
<br />
"Yeah... I've done a few." I responded, "I'm Sion.."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"Sion. That's my name. Sion."<br />
<br />
"Harold."<br />
<br />
It was pretty clear that Harold was a man of few words and we quickly went back to sharing only the sound of our running.<br />
<br />
Soon after passing through the Coldwater AS, I decided to let Harold take the lead. He was floating along the trail and making it look effortless. I let him pull away a bit for the next mile and focused on my breathing. Eventually, I worked through a rough patch and was back on his heels.<br />
<br />
I could tell that his pace had already slowed and I was beginning to feel much better.<br />
<br />
"Now is the time.." I thought.<br />
<br />
I made my move and passed Harold. I put some pressure on the gas pedal and created a little gap. Ultra running is so much strategy. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I was taking that risk.<br />
<br />
The next several miles were pretty flat but the wind was beginning to whip around quite a bit. I was cruising around a 6:45 pace and feeling outstanding. During every race, I remind myself to take in the beauty that surrounds us. I made sure to look into the distance and soak in the scenery.<br />
<br />
The trail went up and down, in and out of washes. Rocks upon rocks and wind that continued to get more severe. I kept my pace locked-in despite the conditions. I couldn't see Harold behind me any longer. I figured that I was extending my lead, but as soon as I reached a high point, I looked back and there he was!<br />
<br />
"What in the... This dude is for real." I mumbled.<br />
<br />
The next segment of the race was filled with soft sand. The sand combined with the wind was sucking the life out of me.<br />
<br />
"Dude is gonna catch up.." I began to think.<br />
<br />
I made it to the Pedersen AS, refilled my handheld, stuffed a bean burrito in my mouth and bolted out of there.<br />
<br />
Overall, I felt pretty good. It was knowing that Harold was close behind that kept me running an uncomfortable pace.<br />
<br />
I decided not to fill my handheld at the Coldwater AS for fear Harold was closing in.<br />
<br />
"I may regret this." I thought as I ran right past it..<br />
<br />
I had four and a half miles to go before I got back to Rumble Headquarters. I had to milk that bottle.<br />
<br />
I was getting excited to see Kristi at the turn around, so I punched the pace. As I neared the turnaround, Carson popped up as if straight out of a bush and began shooting some more film.<br />
<br />
"Anyone else close?" He asked.<br />
<br />
"There's been some dude on my tail the whole time.." I replied.<br />
<br />
Well, you're good. You're running a smart race.." He encouraged me.<br />
<br />
"Smart race?" I thought to myself, "I've run a terrible race so far.."<br />
<br />
Soon I made the final decent into Rumble Headquarters. I swapped handhelds out and grabbed some more <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> chews from Kristi. I made quick work of my time there and galloped off, beginning the smaller loop.<br />
<br />
In my mind, I had built a good lead. In my mind, I had several minutes on Harold. In my mind, I was wrong. Harold and I crossed paths as he made his way into the turnaround. I only had about a minute on the guy.<br />
<br />
"Are you kidding me?!" I said aloud, "Who the hell is this guy??"<br />
<br />
The beginning of the second loop had quite a bit of climbing for the first few miles. I pushed past the pain and hammered away as best I could. I put my game face on and focused all of my attention on breathing and maintaining a consistent pace.<br />
<br />
"This is why you train, Sion." I told myself, "This is what you work for.."<br />
<br />
I hadn't payed much attention to my time but I was clearly on pace to set the course record. On I went.<br />
<br />
I passed through the Coldwater AS and kept on trucking. I had really fell into a groove. I knew that the final few miles were going to hurt. I was ready to embrace the pain. Embrace the suffering! Feed me! Feed my desire to feel pain!!<br />
<br />
Then it happened. In a split second, it happened. And when it happened, I was quite sure that there would be no course record for me on this day..<br />
<br />
I felt my legs buckle with cramps that would kill a small child. I screamed in agony. I was forced to a complete stop. My eyes welled up with tears from the shear pain I was enduring.<br />
<br />
"For the love of everything sacred on this earth, make it stop!!!!" I cried.<br />
<br />
I felt my right hamstring and there was a bulge the size of a softball beating like a heart. I slowly began limping forward and the left hamstring seized up, forcing me to collapse to the ground.<br />
<br />
I lay there looking up at the beautiful blue sky, wishing I could just go a few more miles.<br />
<br />
I forced myself up, back on my feet. I staggered forward a few steps. The pain was incredible. It was so intense. It felt like the muscles in my legs were literally going to rip right through my skin!<br />
<br />
"Oh God.." I moaned.<br />
<br />
I looked up and there were a few people on horseback coming my way.<br />
<br />
"You alright?" one of them asked.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, just some cramps. I'm almost finished.." I said, as if everything was peachy keen.<br />
<br />
"Okay.. How far have you gone?"<br />
<br />
I looked down at my Garmin. "Thirty two miles.."<br />
<br />
As I said that, I realized that I was almost done. Surprisingly, I was still in first place. It was time to run regardless of the cramps!!<br />
<br />
I slowly started jogging and the cramps remained stagnant, but ready to pounce. I put my mind elsewhere. I thought of laying on a soft bed. I thought of a good meal. I love my life and I love where I am going. In the distance I saw the finish. I pushed the pace as I made the final descent into Rumble Headquarters.<br />
<br />
I shot through the finish line in a time of 04:30:23, good for first place and the win!! For a course that is just shy of 33 miles on a windy day and some gruesome cramps, I am very satisfied with the result. Despite missing the course record.<br />
<br />
Kristi was there, as always, smiling and telling me how proud she was. I gave her a kiss and smiled. I was happy that it was over.<br />
<br />
"How do you feel?" She asked.<br />
<br />
"I feel like shit.."<br />
<br />
And I did. And I wouldn't have it any other way!!<br />
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<br />
~Check out this awesome video Michael Carson put together!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI0t1ALgt9H-IuNigqOM-sQFFkcpuy3-JEaQUb5XFvMRJRtMTpSAsNFRYDT0LegMhrBOfIkKLK_aLtJiY-qBTnckCOIy8_wx-xUuS7t_63IHRzyg1b5FpV_BZ1J3T29aIpC_A-4jZfw/s1600/IMG_2593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI0t1ALgt9H-IuNigqOM-sQFFkcpuy3-JEaQUb5XFvMRJRtMTpSAsNFRYDT0LegMhrBOfIkKLK_aLtJiY-qBTnckCOIy8_wx-xUuS7t_63IHRzyg1b5FpV_BZ1J3T29aIpC_A-4jZfw/s1600/IMG_2593.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting the game face on. Photo by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBjcAxvkUgmkPm37EzeBsUmx8R4IHr6lg2r3j65Df1LnK5ng9ZzbRwnuZRt8woNot2fVt5uQGBm_-ia9AXv_y1bO4iQMKqhxwgBnOhTdcB34rkUYJZaZuPAHsYiSw0xLdFbuiDEdT6A/s1600/IMG_2596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBjcAxvkUgmkPm37EzeBsUmx8R4IHr6lg2r3j65Df1LnK5ng9ZzbRwnuZRt8woNot2fVt5uQGBm_-ia9AXv_y1bO4iQMKqhxwgBnOhTdcB34rkUYJZaZuPAHsYiSw0xLdFbuiDEdT6A/s1600/IMG_2596.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team Aravaipa 2015! Photo by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5aKhynGd5Wdt6iAOLB5lcRXqsN_imbI3IMbVCCKU3zDH2VzzmhVu3DoN3iByettL-GIL8cqueXemzJYpZeSI0k-2UTZc9cTljP2vrjCT6nax3yReNZdbQTwRoFKS2-Ma4uRrCglfXA/s1600/IMG_2592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5aKhynGd5Wdt6iAOLB5lcRXqsN_imbI3IMbVCCKU3zDH2VzzmhVu3DoN3iByettL-GIL8cqueXemzJYpZeSI0k-2UTZc9cTljP2vrjCT6nax3yReNZdbQTwRoFKS2-Ma4uRrCglfXA/s1600/IMG_2592.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm very professional when it comes to racing. Photo by Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3d8i8OUu62cEqLlgis6r8bO6SnPJtOmQgW5KwySDG7AG283j0oxprwlPVilmc42m_mXCTD4yQr5dRu3GdNR-Ylg52-IwK_hMHpQ1RdbQ781c2vHd6e2ftrW8LiHbFJu8V8sv8bVsPg/s1600/10906084_10152823950794584_3201457174001130461_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3d8i8OUu62cEqLlgis6r8bO6SnPJtOmQgW5KwySDG7AG283j0oxprwlPVilmc42m_mXCTD4yQr5dRu3GdNR-Ylg52-IwK_hMHpQ1RdbQ781c2vHd6e2ftrW8LiHbFJu8V8sv8bVsPg/s1600/10906084_10152823950794584_3201457174001130461_n.jpg" height="400" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get some grit!! Photo by Bret Sarnquist </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrapping up the first loop, asking myself; Why do I do this silly sport? Photo by Kristi McCauley </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTJFdPPgT_JhtqYU2XAz3MGWAZORJku5cvBZSApT2mG5UEYgdrgLjwea4Ync3DgB2h_tU3EPBX_HcZ-Qf4uM5O4Ju5qcwgYzUtixWsOw-IAW8LEQ-4x7hH8c0yw1pKqxCZPvwuhwMJQ/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicTJFdPPgT_JhtqYU2XAz3MGWAZORJku5cvBZSApT2mG5UEYgdrgLjwea4Ync3DgB2h_tU3EPBX_HcZ-Qf4uM5O4Ju5qcwgYzUtixWsOw-IAW8LEQ-4x7hH8c0yw1pKqxCZPvwuhwMJQ/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" height="398" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the victor go the spoils. Photo by Aravaipa Running<br />
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<b><i> <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> "Running an ultra always seems like a brilliant idea,</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> until you are running said ultra."</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> ~Yours Truly</span></i></b></div>
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<br />Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-62495816894987909772014-12-11T06:20:00.002-08:002014-12-19T14:40:35.916-08:00Touching DreamsAs a young child I was certain that I was going to be a professional athlete when I grew up. I just knew it. It was a fact.<br />
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It was a fact because it was <i>my</i> dream...<br />
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I remember my Mother asking me "Sion, what do you want to do when you grow up?"</div>
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Without hesitation, I would blurt out "I am going to play for the Phillies!"</div>
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"Okay, what <i>else</i> would you like to do...?" She would ask. </div>
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Growing up in Corrales, New Mexico, I had the childhood most kids would envy. A caring family. A beautiful place to live and everything I wanted. But early on I felt lost. The lack of belonging I suffered was so confusing. I can still feel that emptiness while I reminisce.</div>
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Things didn't go exactly as I had imagined. I guess making life long plans at the age of seven doesn't always pan out. </div>
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I eventually lost my desire to play baseball and sometime after that, I lost all motivation. I drifted through high school with no drive and no direction. It wasn't all bad, there were some good times. But truth is, I was beginning to spiral down a dangerous road. </div>
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After high school my life grew increasingly more grim. I was lost. I did the only thing I was good at, I inebriated myself. Years went by as my days bled together. I lied to those around me and stole from the ones trying to help. I would look at myself in the mirror with disgust. </div>
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I eventually left my life in New Mexico behind. I ended up in Tucson, Arizona. I was still determined to continue living life on <i>my </i>terms. And the life I lived continued to deal me a bad hand.</div>
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I vaguely remember sitting in front of an auto parts store panhandling money;</div>
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"What happened to you, Sion?" I asked myself.. "Why did you do this?"</div>
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I had bottomed out, so a grabbed a shovel and continued to dig. At some point I had a moment of clarity and hit pay dirt.<br />
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I recall sitting in a room full of people and feeling more alone than ever before. I sat there in a daze, dreaming of a better life. A life to be proud of.<br />
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"This isn't the life for me.." I remember thinking. "Get out of here."<br />
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And so I left. I left in search of a better life. </div>
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With the continued support of my family, I eventually began to rebuild my life. And somewhere along the way, I began to run. </div>
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First it was a half marathon with my sister, Ariana. Then it was a road races and marathons. I couldn't get enough. This led to trail running and ultras. To mountains and vistas. </div>
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I raced as much as I could. I found peace of mind. I ate. I slept. I laughed. I cried. </div>
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I ran until I collapsed. </div>
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A void had been filled. I had discovered my secret to life and I was in love.</div>
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Running had saved me and subsequently, trail running defined me. </div>
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2014 has been by far, the best year of racing I've had. I experienced just about everything imaginable in terms of weather. From blistering heat to blizzards and everything in between. I have grown quite a bit as a runner over the last year and I have worked harder than ever before.<br />
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The work has brought me one step closer to that <i>dream</i> I had as a young child. While ultra running will never pay my bills, it has given me purpose and a sense of belonging. It has allowed me to become the athlete I dreamt about before those dark days.</div>
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Being chosen to be a member of the Aravaipa Racing Team has proven once again that with some grit and some determination, even the most lost can find a new road. With one foot in front of the other, I have run far away from my past and into a world of beauty and peace.</div>
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Aravaipa Running has become one of the premier race organizations in the nation, putting Arizona on the map as a prime destination for those looking to participate in quality events. I can't adequately express the gratitude I have. The excitement is palpable.<br />
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I want to personally thank Aravaipa Running founders, Jamil and Nick Coury for giving me the opportunity to represent such a first class running company and family.<br />
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<b>Follow your passion, be prepared to work hard and</b><br />
<b> sacrifice,</b><b> and, above all, don't let anyone limit you dreams.</b><br />
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<b> ~ Donovan Bailey</b><br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Team Aravaipa 2015 </span></b></div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-87188910115438934112014-11-20T14:49:00.002-08:002014-11-20T21:10:09.287-08:00Colossal-Vail 50/502014 has been one wild ultra-running adventure for me. It all started at <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/03/2014-old-pueblo-50-storm.html">Old Pueblo</a> when a torrential rainstorm absolutely demolished the Santa Rita mountains and the race course. And than it was <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey</a>. A blizzard. A damn blizzard whipped through the Highline Trail during the race. A Haboob was next in line. Yes, a freaking Haboob had to join in on the fun and blow through the White Tanks during the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/08/0-o.html">Vertigo Night Race</a>. Good times if you ask me!<br>
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With all the wild, crazy, wet and cold fun I had been a part of, it was far from over. I hadn't yet raced the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/10/mogollon-monster-100.html">Mogollon Monster 100</a>. MOG was a goal race. A race I had trained months for. So why wouldn't the cursed weather want to get in on the action?!</div>
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And so it was, another weather shit-storm crashed the monster ending the race 51 miles in. For the love of God, I can't catch a break! </div>
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So here I am, fit as ever with nowhere to run. Such a lonely place to be. I had to find a race before I let all this hard earned fitness go to waste. That would be a damn crime!</div>
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So I began to think about my options. The most obvious choice was the Javelina Jundred. I wanted a 100 mile race and after last year, Javelina is a race that is begging me for my redemption. But having already done a bunch of loop courses over the summer, I was having a lot of trouble wrapping my head around doing more loops. Loops were making me kinda loopy.</div>
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Then like a brick to the ole' noggin, it dawned on me; <a href="http://www.aztrail.org/cv5050/">The Inaugural Colossal-Vail 50/50</a>. Hell, the race was being put on by some of my closest friends and fellow TTR'ers (Tucson Trail Runners). The course also runs along the Arizona Trail, right here in my own backyard. It just made sense.</div>
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I felt like I was in great shape and was focused on setting a new 50 mile PR. I had run some of the course and it is pretty damn fast. Lots of runnable trail with rolling hills. Holding back in this race was going to be the biggest challenge of all!</div>
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I spent the next few weeks throwing some flat runs into my repertoire. I focused on some long sustained flat running in hopes of getting used to the continuous grind. I knew that this race was going to be a grind, "flat" or not..</div>
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Sleeping in my own bed the day before a race was simply delightful. I felt well rested as my co-pilot, Kristi and I cruised through the early morning darkness. We made it to <a href="http://www.colossalcave.com/welcome.html">Colossal Cave Mountain Park</a> about a half hour prior to the start.</div>
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Several people had teased me that since I had registered, they'd better bring a raincoat and gloves. But the sky was crystal clear. There wasn't going to be any crazy weather today. It was crisp and cool as the first sign of light glimmered beyond the horizon. However, the course is completely exposed. There is virtually no shade..</div>
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"It's going to get hot once that sun comes up.." I thought to myself. "I'll take it!!"</div>
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I immediately ran into <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Charlie&lname=Ware&age=29">Charlie Ware</a> at bib pick-up. I figured it was going to be a good race between Charlie and myself. Charlie is a friend of mine and we had done some of our training together. This was going to be a blast!</div>
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"There is a guy that ran a six forty five 50 miler a couple week ago doing the race." Charlie informed me.</div>
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"What? Damn, that is friggin' fast.." I responded.</div>
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"I know. Looks like there is some more competition!" Charlie quipped.</div>
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The minutes quickly dwindled down and it was time to line up. The RD and good friend of mine, Ross Zimmerman got us all pumped up to be participating in the inaugural event. It was fun having a lot of familiar faces at the start of the race. </div>
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I felt the adrenaline make it's usual pre-race trip through my veins.</div>
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I did my usual pre-race pep talk with myself;</div>
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"Don't go out too fast blah blah blah..."</div>
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"Stay hydrated blah blah blah..."</div>
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"Don't forget to eat blah blah blah..."</div>
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"Why do I do this shit blah blah blah..."</div>
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It was go time!!</div>
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I had told myself over and over not to get sucked into a fast start. That wasn't as challenging as I expected it would be. No one bolted away at an unreasonable pace. Charlie, myself and another runner led the way up the initial climb.</div>
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We all chatted and I got to meet the other runner, <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Kent&lname=Green&age=27">Kent Green</a>. Kent was the runner that Charlie had told me about. Just a couple weeks back, Kent had run a 6:44:19 at the Chicago Lakefront 50 miler. That is solid stuff. Two weeks is not a whole lot of recovery time, so I wondered if that would hurt him in the long run. Regardless, the kid has a ton of talent and I knew he would be hanging around.</div>
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The three of us cruised at an easy pace and continued chatting away.</div>
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"What's with all the chatter?" A female voice surprisingly chimed in.</div>
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It turned out <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Kelly&lname=Wild&age=36">Kelly Wild</a> was right there behind us. </div>
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The four of us ran together as the sun rose, lighting up the beautiful surroundings. Sometimes I have to remind myself to look around and appreciate nature and absorb the moment. I did that a lot on this particular day..</div>
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Soon enough the four of us galloped into the Gabe Zimmerman AS. Dallas was there with his infectious encouragement that I've grown to love so much. We all stuffed various food items down our throats and made a quick exit.</div>
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The single track was glorious. The temperature was perfect. I could see Mount Wrightson looming in the distance. I was really trying to keep myself in check because it was such a runnable section.</div>
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"Keep it easy, Sion.." I mumble to myself.</div>
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Eventually we had to cross underneath I-10 through a tunnel. Steve Hughes and Gene Joseph were there to make sure we went the right way. We made our way through the pitch-black tunnel and suddenly a skeleton wearing a pair of Hokas appeared out of the blue! Well played, Gene. Well played indeed.</div>
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As we made the climb out of the tunnel and back atop the trail, I could see several other runners right behind us. I figured we had made good separation, so this was sort of surprising to me. </div>
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As much as I didn't want to fall back, the feeling of my bladder exploding forced me to make a pit stop. I watched Charlie, Kent and Kelly pull away. Then two other runners came rolling passed me. Then another. </div>
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"Hey, that's <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=James&lname=Mills&age=45">James Mills</a>." I said to myself.</div>
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James was the very first person I ever ran with upon moving to Tucson. I met him doing one of the many road races that I did long ago. I quickly caught up to him and we had the chance to chat a little bit.</div>
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"This is my first ultra." James told me.</div>
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"You better watch out, this shit becomes addicting.." I said as I cruised away. "Enjoy!"</div>
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Soon I passed the other two runners and made it back to the original three. Only it wasn't three anymore. Charlie had made his move. I figured that it was still really early, so there was no reason to worry about that right now. I reminded myself to focus on <i>my </i>race.</div>
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I was feeling pretty darn good. I was chomping on <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> Chews and drinking plenty of water. I hit the Sahuarita AS and bolted out of there in seconds. I began to pull away from Kelly, Kent and the others. I felt myself falling into a groove. This was going to be a good day. </div>
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I hit a section that was actually a pretty good climb. I kept my heart rate in check as I cruised up the steep. All of a sudden a runner appeared behind me and quickly blew right by. Fortunately, it was <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Gabe&lname=McGowan&age=25">Gabe McGowan</a>, who was absolutely destroying the 50k! </div>
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As I neared the turnaround I saw Charlie in the distance. I wasn't very far back and that gave me a little boost. Gabe came flying by again, in the opposite direction. Soon after Charlie and I crossed paths as he made his way back toward Colossal Cave Mountain Park. </div>
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"Good job, bro!" I shouted.</div>
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"You too!" He replied.</div>
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I hit the Twin Tanks AS and quickly refueled. I talked briefly with Steve, Becky and Michelle Hawk and made the turnaround. I was a few minutes ahead of the third place runner and the next section was going to be a lot of downhill. I made the decision to use the downhill section to establish separation from the rest of the pack with hopes of closing the gap on Charlie. One of those worked out.</div>
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While I did pull away from the rest of the group, there was no sign of Charlie. </div>
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"Damn, dude is like... Gone.." I said to myself. </div>
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Between the two races, there were a lot of runners going in the opposite direction. Lots of "good jobs" and "keep it up" were being thrown around, keeping me company. But by the time I made it back to the Sahuarita AS, I had passed all of the other runners. I was on my own!</div>
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I love to be alone on the trail. It is a special feeling being out in the desert all by myself, knowing I am going to spend the next several hours with only my thoughts to keep me company. </div>
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I hit the marathon mark at 3:45 and felt phenomenal. </div>
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I made it back through the tunnel and passed the bag-a-bones. As I approached the Gabe Zimmerman AS, I realized that it was really beginning to heat up. The second half of the race was going to be a grind, I already knew it. </div>
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I felt myself struggle a little on the climb that started around mile 30. It was constant climb from there to about mile 33. Nothing very steep but a continues ascent. This "flat" course was going to be less flat than I had anticipated. Which I had anticipated. </div>
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Once I topped out and saw the Colossal Cave Mountain Park, I got a spark of energy. I sprinted down the winding single track, excited to see Kristi and get some cold water. Charlie appeared once again, as he started the North Leg. We exchanged quick grunts as we passed one another. I made it into the AS about 6 minutes behind Charlie.</div>
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It was great to see Kristi as I got refueled. Catlow was helping out as well as Doreen and Ross. </div>
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"Charlie is only a few minutes ahead.." Ross explained</div>
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"Hopefully he falls apart.." I cynically responded. "In a friendly way.."</div>
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Last minute I decided to bring my second handheld with me, which turned out to be a very wise decision. I said my good byes and took off!</div>
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As soon as I began the North Leg, I felt gassed. I was sucking wind. I couldn't breath. I wanted to turn back and call it a day. I felt the urge to vomit. I dry heaved. I cursed myself for always choosing to do this silly sport!!!</div>
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"Ahh hell..." I moaned. "Instead of saying 'hopefully <i>he</i> falls apart'.. I should've said 'hopefully <i>I don't </i>fall apart'..." </div>
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I continued fighting off the urge to stop. Everything becomes so simple, yet so difficult. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Don't stop. Keep on going... </div>
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I slowly began to feel better. One foot in front of the other. I took a deep breath and looked at the beautiful desert landscape. Each step I took, I felt even better. I made it though the rough patch! </div>
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I picked up my pace and ate a few chews. I smiled and remembered that I do this because I love it! I love to run!!</div>
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Before I knew it, I was approaching the Pistol Hill AS. I rolled on up and was greeted by Mr. Bob Bachani and his classic: "That's what I'm talking about!" </div>
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That phrase never gets old!</div>
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Renee handed me some grilled cheese and I filled up my handhelds. </div>
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"Three and a half miles to the turn around." Renee informed me.</div>
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"Three and a half miles.." I said.</div>
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I looked at my watch: 41:20 miles</div>
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"Wow, this race is going to be a lot further than 50 miles!" I shouted with desperation peppered in my voice.</div>
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On I went!</div>
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The next few mile were a steady descent. Not steep at all, but I did keep in mind I was going to have to run this section in the opposite direction, so I kept my pace very reserved.</div>
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Eventually I noticed Charlie running back my direction. His stride looked smooth, like he was floating along the trail. We said a few words to one another and continued on. It took me at least five or six minutes to make it to the turnaround, so I realized that Charlie had extended his lead,</div>
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"You're not going to catch him, just focus on holding onto second place.." I told myself. </div>
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I thanked the volunteers working at the turnaround. </div>
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"The 50 miler that's actually 54 miles.." I said to the group.</div>
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"Yeah. That's good!" One of them shouted.</div>
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"Of course it is.. More bang for your buck!" I yelled back as I began the final stretch back to Colossal Cave.</div>
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I was going to get a good idea of how far in front of third place I was. I was beginning to feel drained again but was moving reasonably fast. It had been at least five or ten minutes when I saw another runner coming towards me. Wouldn't you know, Kent was hanging onto third place! </div>
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Not long after that, I saw Kelly coming my way as well, looking solid as ever! Then it was Pete Ziegler and Tim Stackhous. It felt like I should have arrived back at the Pistol Hill AS... The way back felt like it was taking an eternity..</div>
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"Oh, thank God." I said with relief. "There it is.."</div>
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But as I looked up again, it was gone.</div>
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"What the? Damn, I'm hallucinating." I mumbled.</div>
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After a few more hills, a few more hallucinations and a few more curse words, I arrived back at the Pistol Hill AS. </div>
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I put some ice under my hat, got my bottles filled and got gone! Time for the home stretch! </div>
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My watch decided to quite on me and I was riding dirty. It was kind of freeing to not look at my watch anymore, though I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't know my exact time at 50 miles. </div>
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I hammered out those final few miles. There was a lot of suffering during those last couple but I knew it was almost over. Sometimes you just gotta embrace the suffering!</div>
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I came rumbling through the last hundred yards and across the finish line in second place with a time of 8:17:03! Hell of a PR considering the race was closer to 54 miles! </div>
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It was over and it all made sense again! The feeling of accomplishment is something I can't put into words. It is simply priceless. I enjoyed my best 50 mile performance ever. I accomplished my goal of running the entire race (without walking) and setting a new PR. And that feels pretty damn good!</div>
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Congratulation to Charlie Ware and Kelly Wild on winning the Inaugural Colossal-Vail 50 miler! You both ran incredible races and clearly deserved to take the top spot. Also, congrats to the 50k winners, Gabe McGowan and <a href="https://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Chrissy&lname=Parks&age=37">Chrissy Parks</a>! Well done! </div>
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For everyone else out there pushing yourselves past what you thought you were capable of, congratulations. You are all my heroes.</div>
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It is hard to believe that this was the first year that this race has been held. The organization of the event was impeccable. First class in every way. I will definitely run this race again and highly recommend it as well. You won't be disappointed! </div>
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I would give personal appreciation for each and everyone of you, but that would take all day. So I am just going to say thank you to everyone, staff and volunteers alike. You know who you are.<br>
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~All Photographs courtesy of <a href="http://goatographer.smugmug.com/">GOATographer (Kerry Whelan)</a><br>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-76089053282218129452014-10-01T19:15:00.001-07:002014-10-03T16:06:04.795-07:00Mogollon Monster 100Last summer I took a trip with some friends out to the Mogollon Rim to run part of the Mogollon Monster 100 course and check out some new terrain. I had an amazing experience <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/08/mogollon-mindstate.html">that day </a>and fell in love with the beautifully brutal and rugged landscape that is "The Rim".<br />
<br />
"I gotta do the Monster.." I told myself on the drive back to Tucson. "One day.."<br />
<br />
I have had a pretty wild year of racing, it has had a little of everything. A torrential rainstorm absolutely demolished <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/03/2014-old-pueblo-50-storm.html">Old Pueblo</a>. A blizzard engulfed <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey</a>. Hell, even a Haboob whipped around the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/08/0-o.html">Vertigo Night Race</a> forcing a shutdown.<br />
<br />
It hasn't been your typical Arizona race conditions this year. Not at all.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mogollonmonster100.com/">The Mogollon Monster 100</a> 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.<br />
<br />
As race day neared, I second guessed just about everything.<br />
<br />
"I'm not ready."<br />
<br />
"I need more miles. More vert.<br />
<br />
"I need counseling."<br />
<br />
"I'm doomed."<br />
<br />
You know, the usual. But in reality, I had very solid training and was free from any significant injuries. I was good to go.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I was shivering. Something was terribly wrong.<br />
<br />
"I think I may be getting the flu.." I moaned to Kristi.<br />
<br />
"Don't make yourself sick, your probably just nervous because of the race.." She tried to convince me.<br />
<br />
"No, I don't think so. I think I'm getting sick.."<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I awoke drenched in sweat.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!!<br />
<br />
"There is no way in hell it is going to be <i>that</i> bad.." I thought to myself. "Not again."<br />
<br />
But predictions grew increasingly worse.<br />
<br />
It <i>was </i>going to be that bad.<br />
<br />
I made sure Kristi had all the instructions to navigate around the race course and my buddy, <a href="http://koreykonga.blogspot.com/">Korey Konga</a> 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.<br />
<br />
Word Salad!!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Mike and I glanced at each other and said little. Nothing needed to be said. We both knew what was coming..<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"Holy shit."<br />
<br />
The rain began coming down furiously.<br />
<br />
"Well, maybe the storm is already passing through.." I tried to be positive.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Jeremy said a lot during the briefing but all I heard was "It is going to get really bad out there."<br />
<br />
The national anthem was played and I got goosebumps as we all got ready to begin this incredible adventure.<br />
<br />
This is what I work for. This is what I suffer for.<br />
<br />
This is what I live for!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
Mike, feeling like the pace was a bit too slow, passed the group and began pulling away.<br />
<br />
"Thank God." I mumbled under my breath as I passed by our little group and hung onto his heels.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"Damn you, Mud!" I shouted while I mud-skied down a slope.<br />
<br />
Mike remained close behind me but it would be the last I saw of him.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!!<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
I continued cruising and soon passed a couple of hikers.<br />
<br />
"You're in 21st place. Leaders about 45 minutes ahead." One of them informed me.<br />
<br />
"I got a long time to catch up!" I responded.<br />
<br />
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..<br />
<br />
I eventually came rumbling into the Washington Park AS at mile 27. I had moved into 12th place and my adrenaline was going bonkers!<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
There was a few people at the top staring at me as I gasped for air.<br />
<br />
"That shit sucked." I said with a smile as I headed off on the rim road.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"I'm toasted.." I said under my breath.. "There is no way I can go on for another fourteen, fifteen hours. No way."<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"This is the adventure you've always wanted, Sion." I said to myself.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I pretty much went in a zone and before I knew it I was on the heels of another runner.<br />
<br />
"Hey, man. How's it going?" I asked him.<br />
<br />
"Good. Man, you are looking fresh!" He pointed out.<br />
<br />
"I had a little pep talk with myself and it seemed to do the trick!" I shouted as I flew by him.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"Long live TTR!!" I screamed as I took off.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden I saw a runner coming back the opposite direction.<br />
<br />
"I haven't seen a course marker for a long time. Are we going the right way?" He asked.<br />
<br />
"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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
My hands were no longer working and hypothermia was beginning to set in.<br />
<br />
"I am so tired of this shit!" I screamed. "Why does this keep happening..?"<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
"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."<br />
<br />
And soon I hit the top of the rim.<br />
<br />
There were some people sitting, sheltered underneath a covering. They were all huddled near a fire.<br />
<br />
"Hey, you okay?" one of them shouted to me.<br />
<br />
"I'm okay. I just need to warm my hands up." I told them.<br />
<br />
They brought me to the fire and I began defrosting my fingers.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
I heard it loud and clear: "The race is going to be shut down at Washington Park."<br />
<br />
Time slowed down and for a moment the world seemed to stand still.<br />
<br />
"Shut down? But, I need to finish this race." I though to myself.<br />
<br />
I looked at everyone sitting there as I stood up.<br />
<br />
"I gotta go.." I said as I walked back into the storm.<br />
<br />
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?<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
It is a beautiful challenge.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-race National Anthem </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSGQ-IR17UpC_FauqQgT8dpctyFEqUDfXo-FdJTZRRc-jZFQn-9iNBscB8LMhUjr1WJaJ0cRjoNjauwwM6-IF8r2g9AHxkjFQPDmtOp1-m6ZrHVrbNcW8Ug3lZrgOFkCOobO_j0mjvA/s1600/10410278_844009455633471_7684966214196033990_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSGQ-IR17UpC_FauqQgT8dpctyFEqUDfXo-FdJTZRRc-jZFQn-9iNBscB8LMhUjr1WJaJ0cRjoNjauwwM6-IF8r2g9AHxkjFQPDmtOp1-m6ZrHVrbNcW8Ug3lZrgOFkCOobO_j0mjvA/s1600/10410278_844009455633471_7684966214196033990_n.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael Duer and myself early on</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv_t-vuLD045H7Wer-p2HeAyqFrU-5ffFGU5dFN06gK9ulMnUbvOZNCmaLS430AlHrhkwzCErF7Y9SKHDNWANax076Bq02PB87qOHgAA-BmZeXHSCsg2aEG-Gi_I7ebcuw5Tn3VdxlQ/s1600/10649519_844009348966815_6416957723930299106_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv_t-vuLD045H7Wer-p2HeAyqFrU-5ffFGU5dFN06gK9ulMnUbvOZNCmaLS430AlHrhkwzCErF7Y9SKHDNWANax076Bq02PB87qOHgAA-BmZeXHSCsg2aEG-Gi_I7ebcuw5Tn3VdxlQ/s1600/10649519_844009348966815_6416957723930299106_n.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running in the clouds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQ3vncfJWe1ry1ybJwK92bAOjJztELaB_2_IxlTL-hiYtob2f50Es8jEC4FbY5M9FX9sorl1Ekrdb2NDFqfLBIn0BymLR9gGPdTgwxvF2Jf7qDSe5_3GrpnrTeyKpregdsKNa2cMNQw/s1600/10303299_844009388966811_1405157914980377186_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQ3vncfJWe1ry1ybJwK92bAOjJztELaB_2_IxlTL-hiYtob2f50Es8jEC4FbY5M9FX9sorl1Ekrdb2NDFqfLBIn0BymLR9gGPdTgwxvF2Jf7qDSe5_3GrpnrTeyKpregdsKNa2cMNQw/s1600/10303299_844009388966811_1405157914980377186_n.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking off the rim</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JKwNwFQQ3wg2OdXnoRv_lXMTDulmY53EXRFwyH7r5zHNlQqkVFqb1BPVm1iuhXYvyJrMkwzY23m0BzPB8p5I_l2fXH-8Fm6oRr7rpgljaqhtEe3imIsviGhhEUFmYtKo7QS63o5tHA/s1600/10527744_844015198966230_4765537767421868578_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JKwNwFQQ3wg2OdXnoRv_lXMTDulmY53EXRFwyH7r5zHNlQqkVFqb1BPVm1iuhXYvyJrMkwzY23m0BzPB8p5I_l2fXH-8Fm6oRr7rpgljaqhtEe3imIsviGhhEUFmYtKo7QS63o5tHA/s1600/10527744_844015198966230_4765537767421868578_n.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Until next year..</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />
~All photo's courtesy of <a href="http://apizm.com/">Andrew Pielage Photography</a><br />
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<br />Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-31168755597363465112014-08-13T20:02:00.001-07:002014-08-13T20:39:50.526-07:00Porched Belonging<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The rain is beginning to fall. It continues to fall harder as the night wears on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"I can't believe this shit.." I moan. "A torrential rain storm." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm laying on a thin piece of foam that separates me from a concrete slab on the porch of a friends house. The thin mesh covering the porch is no match against the sheets of rain pounding down on me. I am drenched. The foam I am laying on is absorbing water like a sponge. I lay there wishing for a better life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm surrounded by all of my belongings, everything I own. Everything that I own is right here with me on the porch. It too is getting wet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Earlier in the day I had talked my friend into helping me move out of my apartment. I had been evicted and I had to vacate before <i>they</i> changed the locks. Before <i>they </i>locked me out. He offered to help, along with another friend who had a truck. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We loaded everything I owned onto the bed of the truck but I had nowhere to go..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Can I just crash at your place, just for a few days...?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He wasn't thrilled with the idea but allowed me to make use of his porch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Everything I own is right here on this porch. This is it. I'm surrounded by all of it, the treasures and the trash.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A box of old baseball cards that I had since I was a child. I carried them everywhere with me, hoping one day that they would be valuable enough to make me rich. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A pair of skis. I was going to be a professional skier. I loved to ski. I hadn't skied in a long time but I still had my skis. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Even a life story I had written was right there on the porch. It must have been a hundred pages long. I wrote it while staying in one of the many rehabs I had patronized. It was an assignment that my counselor gave to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I read it to my counselor. He said that in the thirty years he had been counseling, that it was the most articulate writing he had ever heard. He said I had a talent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The next day that counselor would suffer a heart attack and die. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Why?" I asked myself. "Why is my life so troubled?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I had some shelving units that were once in my childhood home also sitting on the wet porch. They once sat in the very room I grew up in. I still had the shelves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">What I didn't have was a <i>home.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I remember laying there trying to sort things out. Trying to patch things up. I did this while laying in a puddle of water. I did this while laying in a puddle of tears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Eventually the rain water would flood the porch. A search for solutions would flood my mind. Lost wouldn't begin to describe my existence.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I choose to hold onto to such horrifying memories, remembering that they are my greatest asset. Without the memories, I lay vulnerable to more suffering.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Through the wreckage I found freedom. Through the freedom, I found a home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am no longer laying on a porch full of tears.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEE3n8AO07iuANsNOoTYPSIKsiByYdqOy0bzaDmf7GR_9RzKEL-Rt6gd1E29kwIwJUWGyXIuQ0bXSCJ2xXYqKSEyLA8W8-kgCdufO9KHnHK620qsYQuyFGYUoNlgYgT1DnF6Gro0jiAA/s1600/10252013_10204649116975768_3486350740045487844_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEE3n8AO07iuANsNOoTYPSIKsiByYdqOy0bzaDmf7GR_9RzKEL-Rt6gd1E29kwIwJUWGyXIuQ0bXSCJ2xXYqKSEyLA8W8-kgCdufO9KHnHK620qsYQuyFGYUoNlgYgT1DnF6Gro0jiAA/s1600/10252013_10204649116975768_3486350740045487844_n.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-47377890517606888522014-08-07T18:20:00.001-07:002014-08-07T20:49:43.221-07:00ㄣƖ0ᄅ oƃıʇɹǝʌ<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My body is sizzling. My mind is fried. I put one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"One more loop.." I moan. "One more loop and I'll win this thing."</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Suddenly a gust of wind slaps me across the face jolting me out of the daze that had enveloped me.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"What the..?" </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am sprayed with sand, all over my body and into my eyes. A rain drop hits my skin and quickly turns to steam. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">----</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If running has taught me anything, it's taught me that the more I think I understand, the more I realize I have yet to learn. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had a phenomenal race at <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/06/adrenaline.html">Adrenaline</a>. I ran my first ever sub-4 50k and continued on for another 14k feeling like the energizer bunny. I won the race but more importantly, I gained more confidence in my abilities. I had something to build on.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I probably wouldn't have decided to race the Vertigo 63k had it not been for my training partner and good friend, <a href="http://koreykonga.blogspot.com/">Korey Konga</a>. I had a great race a few weeks prior, it was time to focus on the <a href="http://www.mogollonmonster100.com/">Mogollon 100</a>. But Korey was registered for the 31k and I really enjoy the <a href="http://aravaiparunning.com/network/insomniac/">Insomniac Series</a> of night races that <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running </a>puts on.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The final element that helped me pull the trigger was the fact that I had run <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/07/o.html">Vertigo last year</a> and had a sub-par race. I didn't run <i>my </i>race and it ended up ruining my day. I wanted a little redemption at Vertigo.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So I signed up. Korey and I put in some grueling runs in the heat to help us prepare for the smoldering temps. Last year it was very hot but once the sun dropped, the temperature dropped as well. It was still hot but made it more bearable. I assured Korey that he would enjoy the conditions once the sun set.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was wrong.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So the two of us set out to the White Tanks on a blistering July afternoon. When we arrived it was even hotter than I expected. It was a furnace. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Damn, it is going to be a hot one.." Korey said.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Yeah, this right here.. This is ridiculous.." I responded.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We mingled with some of the others while killing time before the race(s) started. Jamil had made the suggestion to carry enough ice water to pour some over our head throughout the race. That idea made sense to me. That idea was vital.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nick made the announcement that it was time for the 63k runners to line up. Korey wished me luck (the 31k started a half hour later) and I made my way to the start.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've often mentioned of that special feeling I get when I toe the line of a race. It is a sacred feeling. A moment of time that puts hours and hours of hard work into the forefront of existence. I live for this feeling. I crave it. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love to race!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The countdown ensued and we were off! I promised myself to run <i>my </i>race, so I eased into a nice pace. I watched young <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Cristian&lname=Rios">Cristian Rios</a> fly ahead of the pack and make separation. Last year I got sucked into a sprint with Cristian, this year, I knew better.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"This kid is gonna blow up.." I thought to myself. "Run <i>your</i> race."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I trotted along with <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Michael&lname=Carson&age=27">Michael Carson</a> and another runner. We cruised at an comfortable pace while maintaining a conversation. The heat was brutal as the sun began to settle behind the mountains.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">About two miles into the race I noticed Cristian in the distance, he had already slowed to a walk. Carson and I quickly caught up.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"You alright? Carson asked.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"No." Cristian answered.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Do you need anything?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He shook his head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We continued on. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As soon as I left the North Ridge aid station I began getting some gnarly stomach cramps.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"I hope these fade.." I thought. "Or I'm in for a long night."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Carson and I finished up the first loop together, grabbed a few things from the aid station and quickly continued on our way. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fairly early into the second loop the cramps got increasingly more severe. I decided to let Carson pull away and focused on my breathing. The cramps were on both sides of my stomach. It was wrenching pain. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"I can't do this.." I sadly thought. "I'm gonna have to drop. I'm just going to have to.."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Being negative so early in a race is bad news. My attitude had plummeted. The cramps and heat were sucking the life out of me. The combination was ugly. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The remainder of the second loop was a grind. Darkness replaced light and my headlamp paved my way. I was sure I was going to drop but as soon as I made my way into Aravaipa's Ultracity, I got rejuvenated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I refueled, loaded up on some <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> Chews and departed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Loop three was no better than loop two. The heat was not going away. Not at all. Neither were the cramps. I began using Jamil's suggested "ice-water douse" technique and it was helpful. It would cool my core temperature down briefly, allowing me to feel comfortable if only for a few minutes. But all I could think about was dropping.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Pull the plug, Sion." I mumbled. "This just ain't worth it.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If I was going to finish this race, I was going to have to suffer. This race was nothing like my last race. This was going to be an all-out sufferfest!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I finished up the third loop and Nick announced that Carson was now eight minutes ahead. Eight minutes is a substantial lead, which made me want to quit even more. However, I did feel like maybe he was going too hard, that it may catch up with him. So reluctantly, I set off on loop number four.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nothing was fun about this. I hurt. I felt like I was having heat stroke. I wanted to stop. But I didn't. I kept trudging along with cramps that decided to make a home for themselves in the pit of my stomach. I kept going.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Some lightning off in the distance began popping off. More and more of the flashes lit up the sky. I tried focusing on the beauty of our planet. I watched the lightning illuminate the clouds, painting the dark sky blood-orange. For a minute, I felt comfortable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I continued battling and soon made my way to Ultracity, finishing up the fourth loop. Korey was there and asked what I needed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Did you win?" I asked</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Yes. What do you need?" He responded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Glad to hear that he had won his race, I wanted to know where I stood in <i>my </i>race.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Water. How far ahead is Carson?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Carson dropped. You're taking over first place." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This was music to my ears. I had run <i>my </i>race and it was paying off. Carson walked over to me and gave me five. I had two more loops to do. I felt more invigorated than I had the entire evening. I was ready to win this thing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loaded up and bolted out of there. I knew that I had a large enough lead that if I just stayed relaxed, I would stay in front. I found a nice rhythm and consistent pace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The lightning strikes were almost non-stop at this point. The wind was picking up as well. I hit the North Ridge aid station and quickly carried on. I began to daydream. I thought of finishing the race, of winning the race. It was so hot. The heat just didn't want to go away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It wouldn't go away...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">----</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Rain!" I shouted aloud. "Nice!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The drops began falling more rapidly and the wind whipped around. Only it didn't have that "blow-dryer" feel to it anymore. There was now a crisp-coolness to it, which I appreciated immensely. The temperature suddenly dropped and running conditions became almost perfect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"This is unbelievable!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I picked up my pace and felt better than ever. I was ready for the last loop! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I came around the corner and made the final approach to Ultracity, I realized it looked darker than before. It looked <i>different. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I got closer and realized that everything was being broken down, packed up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"What the hell?" I thought. "What's going on..?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Korey was standing at what used to be the finish line. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"It's over, man." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"It's over?" I thought to myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But I wanted to fly through the finish. I wanted to throw my hands in the air and scream "I won!" I wanted a damn champagne shower! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alas, it was not meant to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He snapped a picture of my watch and the race was over. It was over the moment I was ready to race! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Apparently the wind had become so severe that it was was reeking havoc on Aravaipa's Ultracity, not to mention making conditions dangerous. The Coury brothers were forced to shut the race down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is the third race I have participated in this year that was affected by severe weather. <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/03/2014-old-pueblo-50-storm.html">Old Pueblo</a>, <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey </a>and Vertigo. A torrential rainstorm, a blizzard and a haboob. Bizarre.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As always, a big thanks to Aravaipa Running and all the helpful volunteers! I never leave these events disappointed. Congrats to everyone out in the blistering heat pushing themselves beyond their comfort zone. That's what it's all about! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As disappointing as it was to not get to finish the race off, I completely understand and respect the decision. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is the experience that I take home with me.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dgvw1YpNa43tPj6aPAFiSyVNSbVOQLqmaF1oNyGheryRoJEY9bCso4n9zGbTyP379AYlz5UOu5N_DDKSf3JVMTh2AB3JxVYz5gVgG9nIZEmQJq-7KumJ2CWYup6yLNePscjFlAzSBw/s1600/61605_559500027488485_4508135624467719908_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dgvw1YpNa43tPj6aPAFiSyVNSbVOQLqmaF1oNyGheryRoJEY9bCso4n9zGbTyP379AYlz5UOu5N_DDKSf3JVMTh2AB3JxVYz5gVgG9nIZEmQJq-7KumJ2CWYup6yLNePscjFlAzSBw/s1600/61605_559500027488485_4508135624467719908_n.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Korey and myself getting ready to race! Photo: Jamil Coury via <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/twiinkly/id854537313?mt=8">Twiinkly App.</a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting my mind right. Photo: Aravaipa Running</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-D6tQBPh8LtBY-bMwf9OpJgY7IJwX53Z3UrvyeMuEfeOY5EEKOKdYv4qPcJdmPR_KTe9qh-HPVJnAsTfGGobodX4FOIkwJSdKZ_nXFBIp7g7XFISMtilqHknU5LuxhlYaidj_bhGw/s1600/12494_10204679653939173_6289869777545667764_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-D6tQBPh8LtBY-bMwf9OpJgY7IJwX53Z3UrvyeMuEfeOY5EEKOKdYv4qPcJdmPR_KTe9qh-HPVJnAsTfGGobodX4FOIkwJSdKZ_nXFBIp7g7XFISMtilqHknU5LuxhlYaidj_bhGw/s1600/12494_10204679653939173_6289869777545667764_n.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off to the races! Photo: Korey Konga<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot. Hot. Hot. Photo: Aravaipa Running</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And one for the road! Photo: Michelle Sager via <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/twiinkly/id854537313?mt=8">Twiinkly App.</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nighty night. Photo: Kristi McCauley</td></tr>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-24833228237365792482014-06-19T13:54:00.000-07:002014-06-22T11:32:04.437-07:00Adrenaline<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One of the perks of living in Southern Arizona is we have those Coury brothers putting on a ton of well organized trail races all year long. <a href="http://www.aravaiparunning.com/">Aravaipa Running </a>is putting Arizona on the map as one of the premier places to live if you are into racing on trails. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
It's kinda funny how my past, a past full of wreckage brought me to Tucson. That wreckage in turn allowed me to find a passion that has since defined who I am... But that's a whole other story in itself!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Moving forward...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Aravaipa Running puts on a series of night races during the smoldering Summer heat. Last year I had a blast at both <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/07/o.html">Vertigo</a> and <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/09/javelina-jangover.html">Javelina Jangover</a>, so I was excited to get to participate in the "<a href="http://aravaiparunning.com/network/insomniac/">Insomniac Series</a>" for 2014. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Looking over my schedule, I decided on the Adrenaline 64k. Adrenaline is held at the McDowell Mountain Park, which I am very familiar with. The race was set to be on some new trails and it looked like it would be some fast running. </span><br />
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The moment after I registered for the Adrenaline 64k, I began regretting my decision. I was just getting over some nagging aches and pains that were a direct result of the mud-fest I endured at <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/05/2014-zane-grey-50-storm-part-deux.html">Zane Grey</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Sickness had forced me to take a few undesirable rest days and I just had one of the worst runs of my life at TTR's <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/06/sunset-loopy.html">Sunset Loops</a>. Seventeen miles completely wrecked me and I just registered for a race that was more than twice the distance...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Maybe I should have my head examined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But the decision was already made. I paid my entry and I was not going to back out. I was very nervous about how I would perform, probably more nervous than I have ever been going into a race. But the truth is, I love to race!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hadn't been putting in very many miles since prior to Zane. The heaviest week leading up to the race, I put in a mind-boggling 42 miles! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">However, I did have a few things going for me. The running that I was doing was brutal. Most of my running was done during the hottest part of the day and the majority of that, was done on Blackett's Trail.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In recent months, I have become obsessed with Blackett's Trail. Blackett's is no ordinary trail. Blackett's is steep. Blackett's is rocky. Blackett's is unforgiving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blackett's is the shit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I scrapped a lot of "garbage" miles to abuse myself on Blackett's. I've been told that in the end, all that really matters is the time on your feet. I was going to find out if that held true. I was definitely getting stronger. Would this all translate into better endurance? Was I prepared to race 40 miles or was this going to be an all out sufferfest?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I also decided not to taper down the week of the race. Instead, I put in a solid week of running. Something I have never done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had absolutely no idea what to expect as Kristi and I packed our bags and hit the road for Fountain Hills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I'm really nervous for some reason" I admitted to her, "I haven't been putting in very many miles. The longest run I've done since Zane was seventeen miles and I completely fell apart..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You'll be fine." Was her response.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"She has way too much confidence in me." I thought to myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I'll know around 25 miles whether I will be fine or not. That's when I'll know.." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We arrived at the McDowell Mountain Regional Park around six o'clock. I had about an hour to grab my bib and prepare for the race. It was hot out but there was a nice breeze and I felt a sense of comfort wash over me. All of a sudden, I felt relaxed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzVRnh4hFq3igJCKfQtwBl15TxNw-MX_dtUyK1BqlC8kcaZPQQokMiFLYHSCcy-R4s3fsT9_mVZwf5lxgjorSiKS2b_ym0d3yvV7KuuHlQmLxqyZHlMpWWbtqWEhRCUVrZINhnZCO4Q/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzVRnh4hFq3igJCKfQtwBl15TxNw-MX_dtUyK1BqlC8kcaZPQQokMiFLYHSCcy-R4s3fsT9_mVZwf5lxgjorSiKS2b_ym0d3yvV7KuuHlQmLxqyZHlMpWWbtqWEhRCUVrZINhnZCO4Q/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="400" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lacing 'em up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The course consisted of two different loops. One loop was 6.2 miles and the other, 10 miles. The 64k was five loops; Short loop, long loop, short loop, long loop, short loop. An interesting thing about loop courses is how much different each loop feels, even though they are the same. Strange as that sounds, it's true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Nick announced that it was time to line up. Kristi wished me luck and I made my way to the start. I got my game face on and let the <i>adrenaline </i>course through my veins. I envisioned crossing the finish line. I felt like an animal and I craved it. It's time to be released into the wild!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
This is what I live for!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
The countdown concluded and the race was underway! I had told myself to stay relaxed and not jump out in front, which was the opposite of what I did. While I did remain relaxed at a comfortable pace, I took the lead spot from the very beginning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIs5ZwHt1RUxKoLH2ezUiHFSAUNkf1ORX6Xm4S5T6uxvkavdeOx9KZ2MwfTWS8hvouKFiZRCJDJz7IwDcaJY3M_pE_Cox2waLZB1k7cJqQJJ-MhxWTG-6NMlEM0Gd2Y0GlN9tjonacaw/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIs5ZwHt1RUxKoLH2ezUiHFSAUNkf1ORX6Xm4S5T6uxvkavdeOx9KZ2MwfTWS8hvouKFiZRCJDJz7IwDcaJY3M_pE_Cox2waLZB1k7cJqQJJ-MhxWTG-6NMlEM0Gd2Y0GlN9tjonacaw/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off to the races!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Adam&lname=Barstad"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Adam </span>Barstad</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> was hanging on my tail and the two of us quickly created space from the rest of the runners. A mile or so into the first loop we began a nice steady climb. I attacked the ascent at what seemed to be an unreasonable pace, being that it was so early into the race. I felt unbelievably strong going up that hill.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"Damn, Blackett's training is paying off!" I began thinking, "This is a breeze.."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
By the time I topped out I had created a nice gap between Adam and myself. The sun was setting beyond the horizon and I soaked in the beautiful views.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I felt full of energy but had a little nausea. I tasted my dinner coming up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"Hope that subsides.."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I continued on and soon reached a nice descent. I flew down the single track. It whirled around and made me feel like I was riding on a roller coaster. I was going fast and had total disregard for holding back. I turned around and to my surprise, Adam was not far back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"This guy is gonna push me all night.. I should have held back, I think I just screwed myself." I sadly thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The remainder of the loop was basically flat single track delight. I was cruising around 7:15 pace without a care in the world. I peaked behind me and saw nobody. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"This pace is going to destroy me." I morbidly mumbled under my breath. I kept going.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I finished off the first loop (6.2m) in 44:47, feeling fresh and loose. <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Bret&lname=Sarnquist">Bret Sarnquist </a>was there helping out at the aid station.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You look solid, man. Nice consistent pace. Is there anyone behind you? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"There was..." I responded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"He must have fallen back." Bret encouraged me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I don't think he is that far back!" I said as I took off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I met up with Kristi and swapped my handheld for my pack. I gave her a hug and took off, starting my second loop.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">About a minute into the loop, I saw Adam coming my way. We exchanged quick grunts and carried on. He was looking very strong. I figured I had about a three minute lead, depending on how long he took at the aid station. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The second loop was fantastic single track that hugged the side of the mountain. Soon there were a ton of other runners appearing. There were now several other races going on. The sun had settled and darkness had arrived. I saw dozens of little headlamps bobbing up and down in the distance. I began passing runner after runner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dust was flying as hundreds of feet pounded the sandy trail. I soon hit the Escondido aid station. <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Maria&lname=Walton">Maria Walton</a> handed me some S-Caps and off I went. My energy level was still solid but the nausea was getting more severe. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I felt the urge to throw up and began taking deep breaths. Soon it was too much. I let it out, mid-stride. I didn't skip a beat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Wow, I never thought I could throw up while running and not even slow down.." I laughed to myself, "...and didn't even get any on me!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While that did make me feel a little better, the process was repeated several more times throughout the race. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My pace remained consistent as I reached the flat section that leads back to the start. I cruised through, finishing loop number two (16.8m) in 2:01:38. I filled my pack, chomped on <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> chews, threw on a shirt, gave Kristi a kiss and bolted out of there! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I still felt very strong. Surprisingly strong. I saw Adam about a mile in, so I knew I had created a comfortable lead. I cruised up the steep like a caffeinated mountain goat. I continued passing other runners and was extremely invigorated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The moon had begun to rise into the dark sky. It was nearly full and painted a spectacular blood orange. There were pockets of cool air that refreshed my body and mind. These are the moments that I am fully at peace. I hit the flat and my pace felt a bit more forced but remained surprisingly fast. I cruised into the aid station wrapping up my third loop (23m) in 2:52:01.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You are doing awesome, babe!" Kristi exclaimed, "How do you feel?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Exhausted.." I admitted, "There is still a long way to go.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I said good bye and headed off on my fourth loop. I knew this would be the loop that would define the race for me. I knew I was in for some suffering. I was ready to fight. There was no sign of Adam or any other runner. I had a large lead but could I hold on? Could I finish off this ten mile loop feeling strong?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The trail had become steeper and less forgiving. I felt like I was going to bonk. Nausea wrapped it's evil tentacles around me. I dry heaved while continuing to run. It was dark and I was all alone.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Just walk for a minute. Stop running. You must." My mind barked at me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I ignored it. I kept running.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hit the Escondido aid station and quickly continued on. One foot in front of the other. This loop was longer this time around.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I don't remember this.." I was delirious.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> I finally made it the the flat section. My pace picked back up. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All of a sudden, I was running sub 8's again!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hadn't stopped running through all of the pain I was enduring, now I felt like I had a second wind!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Soon enough, I was wrapping up the fourth loop (33.6m) in 4:19:56.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Last loop.." I moaned to one of the volunteers at the aid station. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as I walked over to Kristi.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I didn't waste much time before I took off. I wanted to get this thing done! I figured my lead was large enough that if I need to do a little hiking, I would be okay. I felt really relaxed as I approached the last climb of the night. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To my surprise, I continued running. I ran the whole way up and topped out.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Holy crap.." I was in disbelief "I still feel good!" </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I barreled down the roller coaster descent and hit the flat section for the last time of the night. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It's time to give it all that I got!"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hammered out the last few miles toward the finish. I saw the lights of ultra-city glowing in the distance. I got one last burst of <i>adrenaline </i>as I whipped around the bend and shot through the finish line (39.7m) in 5:16:10!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3cT5HaSaahskFvo10KUuwjqmMOLx5pYaWt99mkiV18QWUQiOrdczbP78CMvGbtlV1X2uFzI84KhknY-P7mXZOkfMak-as3Bm28QloGoPrR-al1B4Fl7SUzGwuO2VRG7tHj2VWwuQ5uw/s1600/photo+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3cT5HaSaahskFvo10KUuwjqmMOLx5pYaWt99mkiV18QWUQiOrdczbP78CMvGbtlV1X2uFzI84KhknY-P7mXZOkfMak-as3Bm28QloGoPrR-al1B4Fl7SUzGwuO2VRG7tHj2VWwuQ5uw/s1600/photo+5.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrappin' it up!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Oh yeah!" I shouted! </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Kristi came over and congratulated me. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"That was the best race of my life." I said.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And it was.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jamil and Nick congratulated me as did Mr. Entertainment himself, Michael Farris. I was blown away by my performance. I felt like I could have headed out for another loop... But I was glad it was over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nRcU-_p10akXbHV2ombTbPBkyKxS5UIM3wIETYEjQv_8FfUwSjp62boPxask3Tc5m8YO1j3O-4yxzLblu1OmpTdBGyFBDa1j9IicIMRidsZlkzr_ZC6mxl1s0HTWCD2dKI_0HF3-Kg/s1600/10408875_10152424072653808_1863094660081768576_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nRcU-_p10akXbHV2ombTbPBkyKxS5UIM3wIETYEjQv_8FfUwSjp62boPxask3Tc5m8YO1j3O-4yxzLblu1OmpTdBGyFBDa1j9IicIMRidsZlkzr_ZC6mxl1s0HTWCD2dKI_0HF3-Kg/s1600/10408875_10152424072653808_1863094660081768576_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good times!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I ran every single step of the race. Besides the nausea and a brief encounter with the dreaded "wall", I never really suffered. It gives me a new confidence moving forward. I have a brand new outlook and approach on the way I'm going to train and prepare for races. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was an incredible experience to feel that strong for a race of that distance. It's tough to put the feeling into words. </span></div>
<div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Congratulations to <a href="http://ultrasignup.com/results_participant.aspx?fname=Magi&lname=Redlich&age=36">Magi Redlich</a>, the overall female winner and Adam Barstad, who also ended up going sub-6 with an impressive time of 5:53:06. Nice work! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As always, Aravaipa Running put on a first class event. To all the volunteers, you make these events so incredibly special. Thank you. A big thanks to Honey Stinger for fueling my wild adventures and making products that actually taste good! And thank you Kristi, for always being out there supporting my running endeavors. You are the greatest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Until next time... </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't normally run relays but when I do, I run them solo.</td></tr>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-36583403660913826772014-06-05T18:01:00.003-07:002014-06-05T18:51:36.265-07:00Sunset Loopy<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Running is very interesting because you never know how you are going to feel until you actually <i>start</i> running. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There are the days that I feel like crap and I try to give myself every excuse in the world to skip my run, yet when my feet hit the ground I am filled with energy. It's like I have wings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Like I can fly! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On the contrary, there are the days that the motivation to go run is overflowing, that I'm chomping at the bit to pile on some hardcore miles. I lace up, bolt out the door and I'm completely bonked of energy and I have to force myself to continue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In a nut shell, some days are better than others. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had been looking forward to running TTR's "Sunset Loops". I had never run the course and was excited that I would get to explore some new terrain in the Santa Catalina Mountains. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unfortunately, I had been under the weather for the last week. But I felt like I was on the mend and that my strength was coming back. The moment my alarm jolted me up that morning, my body told me otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Go back to sleep Sion, you're too weak.." My body felt lifeless as I silenced the noise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I don't feel too good. I think I'm gonna skip it." I mumbled to Kristi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No. No, I'm not. I'll just beat myself up the rest of the day if I do. I'm going."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I ignored my body.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I'll show you who's boss!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I got all my stuff together, choked down two bites of shredded wheat, cursed myself for not listening to my body and headed out the door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I cruised up the Catalina Highway, I lost myself in thought. I remembered the first time I rode up this mountain with my parents and brother. I was living in a halfway house and they were visiting me for the first time since I had been placed there. We shared lunch on top of Mount Lemmon. We talked about my road to recovery, about my new life in Tucson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Little did I know that the very mountain we shared that meal on would end up being part of my recovery. That it would give me a new life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As it turned out, I had a lot more suffering to do before I found a new life. Before I found this mountain. Before I found <i>myself.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I arrived at the Sunset Trailhead and mingled with some of my fellow TTR'ers. I didn't feel right. I felt groggy. After the pre-run briefing we all clicked our time pieces and took off!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I ran behind Catlow and Duer for the first mile or so. I immediately found myself gasping for air. The two of them were having a conversation as we skipped and hopped over the rocky section of Sunset Trail. I tried to join in but felt like I couldn't breath. So I just focused on running.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"This is weird." I thought to myself, "Why do I feel so weak?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Soon the three of us scampered into Marshall Gulch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Go ahead" Duer said to me as he made a detour. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I guess..." I thought to myself as I followed behind Catlow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We hung a sharp left and connected to Aspen Trail. I love this trail. It's covered in shade for the most part and has some amazing views. It's quite a climb from the very start and my breathing became extremely labored.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was talking to Catlow about his most recent ultra glory when I began to feel faint. I decided to let him pull away as I slowed my pace down. The climb seemed relentless yet this was only the beginning of the run. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Maybe I should just cut it short today" I began to think.. "I can't see running for another three hours feeling like this."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've had a few runs where my stubbornness triumphed my logical thinking. One of those runs I felt like I was on the edge of death. If interested in reading about that wonderful experience check out <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/06/desert-delirium.html">Desert Delirium</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Soon we hit Marshall Saddle. I realized that the next section would be the toughest climb of the run, that this would be the time to cut it short.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I could just head down Marshall Gulch Trail and call it a day.." I thought to myself as I ran right past it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No, you'll get your second wind. It's just a matter of time."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I continued on Aspen Trail and began the climb that takes you to the summit of Mount Lemmon. Catlow had taken a detour and was behind me for a few minutes before quickly catching back up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Go ahead, bro." I said as I moved over and let him by, "I don't feel very peppy today."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Yeah, you seem quiet. Do you need any food?" Catlow offered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No, I'm fine. I'll be okay. I'll survive."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I slowed down and watched Catlow effortlessly cruise up the steep. Each switchback that followed he was further in front of me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I can't breath!" I shouted in frustration.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Maybe I should just turn back..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I said those words but only continued putting one foot in front of the other. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Each step my legs became heavier. My heart was ripping through my skin. I reached timberline and the sun sprayed me golden. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Despite my worsening condition, I gazed for miles into the distance and absorbed the absolute beauty that was surrounding me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It's good to be alive!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I eventually reached the summit. I stood there dazed for a minute, sucking air. I snapped a picture and looked ahead. I saw Catlow in the distance flying along the ridge. I chomped down some <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> chews and set off..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I enjoyed the descent along the ridge. The views were breathtaking as I made my way to Mt. Lemmon Trail. I couldn't find a good rhythm for the life of me. Even with all the downhill, I still was having to slow to a walk in order to catch my breath. I think it was at about that moment that I realized that I was in for a long day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lemmon Trail is pretty awesome. Fast runnable single track trail blanketed in shade. I was able to slip into a groove and enjoyed some sustained running. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I finally, at what seemed like an unreasonably long time, reached Wilderness of Rocks Trail. This was the part of the run I had been looking forward to. I had never been on the WOR Trail and was excited to see some new terrain. Only problem, I was beginning to really suffer. The heat was on and my energy had decided that it wasn't going to visit me on this day.. Not even for a short conjugal visit. Not at all..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I did my best to stay positive but my demeanor was quickly evaporating. The Wilderness of Rocks didn't disappoint. Huge boulders towered overhead, surrounding me. It was quite magnificent. I used every excuse to take a break, snap a photo and catch my breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I began to feel like I was being baked in an oven. Blurred lines wafted off the gigantic rocks. I grew increasingly more nauseous and felt the urge to vomit. I became concerned that my water was going to run out. I was scared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I knew I should have stayed home. You're an idiot, Sion. I wish I was at home.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I staggered on, forcing myself to run until I was on the verge of passing out. Only to repeat the process. The trail was amazing. Single track delight. Wonderful landscape and incredible views. Yet, I was in hell. I was suffering something awful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Running was becoming alarmingly difficult. At this point I was taking breaks to sit on the ground and catch my breath. I would envision finishing up the run and collapsing to earths surface.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"If I can make it to Marshall Saddle, I'll be good.." I thought to myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I knew that once I got to the saddle, I would have screaming downhill all the way to Marshall Gulch, then onto Sunset Trail and to the finish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Keep moving."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The last stretch to the saddle was the dagger. I grew increasingly more faint. My equilibrium felt disrupted which caused severe dizzy spells. I felt a migraine developing. I felt sleepy. I sat down and panted like a dog. I wondered if I could keep going, if I could make it back. Did I need help? Search and rescue? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Feeling the threat of running out of water looming, I slapped myself together and finished off the last climb to the saddle. I took a seat on a log, sipped on some water and caught my breath. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"You're going to run every step of Marshall Gulch Trail." I told myself, "Every step."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And so I did. I ran the whole way down to Marshall Gulch. I managed to avoid tripping, despite the dizziness that had enveloped me. I took a breather and walked to Sunset Trail. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"This is it. The last stretch. You are going to make it." I encouraged myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was able to lift myself out of the funk and focus on the last stretch of the run. I ran and walked without taking anymore breaks. And just like that, I was back at the trail head. I was alive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I made sure to do what I had daydreamed about, so I picked a spot and collapsed to the surface of earth. I enjoyed that briefly before getting attacked by a swarm of horse flies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It just wasn't my day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> "You may encounter many defeats but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> ~Maya Angelou </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <a href="tel:19282014" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="telephone" x-apple-data-detectors="true">1928</a>~<a href="tel:19282014" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="telephone" x-apple-data-detectors="true">2014</a> </span></div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-29603553759406184022014-05-02T20:20:00.003-07:002014-05-03T08:02:17.545-07:002014 Zane Grey 50 (The Storm; Part Deux)<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I've been hearing about <a href="http://zanegrey50.com/">Zane Grey</a> 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.</span><br />
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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."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I had also registered for <a href="http://www.oldpueblo50.com/">Old Pueblo</a>, 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 <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/03/2014-old-pueblo-50-storm.html">here</a>. 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.</span><br />
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As it turned out, I wound up having what was probably my best race ever at Old Pueblo on that dark day. <b>Sean Meissner</b> 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.</span></div>
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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.</span><br />
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The remainder of my training went well. I managed to smash a couple of my PR's on two of TTR's <i>exceedingly</i> 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.</span><br />
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It's beautifully brutal.</span></div>
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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.</span><br />
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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!</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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A storm was expected to crash the Zane Grey party. </span><br />
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"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.</span><br />
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Plus, there was no way it could be as bad as Old Pueblo. No way. Not possible. Not in a million years.</span><br />
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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.." </span><br />
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I just couldn't believe it and I couldn't wait.</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibX4ph70-2YdEFeQEhsuGJz_zjskyAfkoM-tr8cTZu2UxPLyypqaYFpnXzUSVnry2xS1M_k7ffH0dW7zJC2glhJsTjDbjgExuZUEvuiJJsZtNdjXsuMjdJnVzW-NFTYWfS1Jr8Uq6xaQ/s1600/10277611_10203939330871559_8358645515746862107_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibX4ph70-2YdEFeQEhsuGJz_zjskyAfkoM-tr8cTZu2UxPLyypqaYFpnXzUSVnry2xS1M_k7ffH0dW7zJC2glhJsTjDbjgExuZUEvuiJJsZtNdjXsuMjdJnVzW-NFTYWfS1Jr8Uq6xaQ/s1600/10277611_10203939330871559_8358645515746862107_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Lutick kickin' it with Tucson's finest</span></td></tr>
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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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBvycazFPzpVSII1FTwM7ACBd3-ORJsl2eFZ9cy531nafYM_WciK77yOoct1tcJjtSHRZqLW86pPihpSeaS5kJP5QY9q-N2p2APeiLRKSne9EpCJszI93yQ9GGvyE5GTOGwxNcbLuzw/s1600/1491671_10203772040323791_3617287754454418795_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBvycazFPzpVSII1FTwM7ACBd3-ORJsl2eFZ9cy531nafYM_WciK77yOoct1tcJjtSHRZqLW86pPihpSeaS5kJP5QY9q-N2p2APeiLRKSne9EpCJszI93yQ9GGvyE5GTOGwxNcbLuzw/s1600/1491671_10203772040323791_3617287754454418795_n.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Amped to race with Duer and Stackhous</span></td></tr>
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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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Pretty soon a few runners began creeping on my heels and eventually passed me and Sean. <b>Brett</b> <b>Sarnquist </b>and <b>Nick Coury</b> blew by us. I began to feel like I was holding back too much, that I was losing too much ground. <b>Garrett Smith</b> appeared in my rear view. "You and Sean gonna bring the crazy weather again?!" Garrett joked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It was calm before the storm.</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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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!!</span><br />
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The rain continued to fall harder and the mud made its first ugly appearance. </span><br />
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"Damn you MUD!"</span><br />
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It was sticking to the bottom of my shoes.</span><br />
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"My shoes must weigh five pounds apiece..."</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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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!!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Heading into Washington Park...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dYfs07fWoNuBYd5k119LNRAsq8gL1plOOh9BX8E7NWmOBMBxs1FMhZREmTmauDLKJnjibeBoKbHES2Cnp4hvPy5zH5dSFhWz4o0-uEBkXm7JZ480P-gmZOy7ctD-2ZI_KFHXT_S73Q/s1600/10254047_10203772055564172_2148263253502141651_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dYfs07fWoNuBYd5k119LNRAsq8gL1plOOh9BX8E7NWmOBMBxs1FMhZREmTmauDLKJnjibeBoKbHES2Cnp4hvPy5zH5dSFhWz4o0-uEBkXm7JZ480P-gmZOy7ctD-2ZI_KFHXT_S73Q/s1600/10254047_10203772055564172_2148263253502141651_n.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">...and into the storm!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">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!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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. </span><br />
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"Geez, I can't believe this chick caught up???" I thought to myself.</span><br />
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The three of us continued on in a close-knit pack for a number of soggy miles. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"Who is that chick?" I asked Nick. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"That"s <b>Kerrie Bruxvoort</b>."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I immediately recognized the name as the winner of last years race.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"She's quick."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.
<br /><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I was freezing. My energy was non-existent. Nick began to pull away. </span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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I slugged up a hill lost in thought. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"You're almost to the top."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I looked up and there was a couple of guys standing at the edge of the trail. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
"Fish Hatchery is 3 miles away. The race has been called there."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was caught off guard by those words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"You mean I can't go on?" I asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Nope."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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!! </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Nick and I wrapping it up!!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I hit the pavement and it was officially over!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Life is brilliant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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 <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> for fueling my adventures even when my fingers are incapable of movement!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Congrats to <b>Ryan Smith </b>and <b>Kerrie Bruxvoort</b> on the wins! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Way to represent Tucson, <b>Catlow</b>, <b>Duer</b>, <b>Stackhous</b>, <b>Hawk</b>, <b>Fall </b>and especially <b>Dabler</b>!! </span><br />
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Let's Keep putting Tucson on the Map!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Until Next time...</span></td></tr>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-90408208054435054372014-03-09T15:45:00.000-07:002014-03-12T07:03:25.365-07:002014 Old Pueblo 50 (The Storm)<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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 piña coladas poolside. It has been...strange. It's like winter skipped us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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 <i>myself </i>here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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....?"</span></div>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I did my usual roundabout, making sure to say hello to as many of my runner friends as possible. I was chomping on <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a> chews, while I was chomping at the bit... I'm ready to be released into the wild!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is what I live for.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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?! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Taking that pee break probably saved my race. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Oh, shit.. Everyone went that way.." I sadly thought.. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"HEY!!!!!" I shouted </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"WRONG WAY!!!!!!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Hhheeeyyyyyy!!!!!!!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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 <i>was</i> going to get a little "weathery". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Hell yeah! You guys made it!" I was ecstatic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"We heard you!" They elated. "We tried to shout at the others, but they didn't make it.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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 <i>why</i> I wanted it to get stormy. Could I go on? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"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..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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! </span><br />
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"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.."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We were in the final stretch to the finish. The torture was coming to an end very soon and we were cruising! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We did it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">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. </span></div>
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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.</span><br />
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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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This race will not soon be forgotten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> ~Photo's courtesy of Hannah Nelson</span></div>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-89488660682996956082014-02-24T18:46:00.003-08:002014-02-24T19:11:30.013-08:00Past >> Forward<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Hey, Cuz, whaddya think you are doing in my car?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am half drunk and laying in the backseat of a car. There are a couple of guys looking at me through the window.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"What the... How did I get here?" I mumble.. I lift my lifeless body up and begin trying to explain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"This is my buddies car, he said I could sleep in it.." I slur.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"This ain't your buddies car, this is my car, Cuz, now get your ass out of it." He said while tapping the window with some sort of metal pipe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Okay, man. Okay." I open up the door and step out. My legs feel like they are gonna buckle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Both men grab me and shove me into the side of the vehicle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am forced to hang out with my newly acquired friends. The details are less than glamorous. As terrifying as it sounds, I had no fear. No emotion. Blank.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eventually, I would be able to leave. I stumble off, down a dark alley. It's the middle of the night and I have nowhere to go. No one to call. Nothing in my pocket. I go and sit on a bench at a bus stop. I look up at the traffic lights. I am at the corner of Oracle and Grant. Location has no meaning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am tired. "Why? How did my life end up like this?" I try to cry. I can't. I can't even cry. My soul has dried up, leaving nothing but darkness inside of me. A void. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"You did this to yourself, Sion." I say under my breath. "This is the life you chose. You squandered all your gifts. You had everything you ever needed, only to piss it all away. You are a piece of shit. You don't deserve shit."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stagger on, in search of a place to sleep. I eventually find an abandoned house and I climb through a broken window. There is a pile of old clothes on the floor. I push them together doing my best to replicate a bed. I curl up on top of them. I close my eyes and drift away... Inside my mind, I run away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am now several years removed from that grim day. <i>Those </i>grim days. The memories I wish to forget are the very memories that I must hold onto. I hold onto them with all of my might. Making sure to never lose sight of how it used to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Somewhere along the line, I had a moment of clarity. I chose to change my life. To have a life. Dare I divulge such dark secrets about myself? About how it used to be? About how I used to live? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's brought me to a life that I could only dream about. That I dreamt about while laying on a pile of dirty laundry. I discovered running and it gave me meaning. I met someone that would help me follow my dreams, that would love me. No questions asked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A void has been filled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will toe the line at the <a href="http://www.oldpueblo50.com/">Old Pueblo 50 Mile Endurance Run</a> for the third consecutive year on Saturday. I have lofty goals going into the race. Yet, I feel more relaxed than ever. The outcome will all be part of the glorious road that I run. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last week I got offered a sponsorship from <a href="http://www.honeystinger.com/">Honey Stinger</a>. I am honored to represent a company that I truly stand behind. This is just a small step in the direction of the dreams that I have. The dreams that I work for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The dreams that I <i>run </i>for.</span><br />
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5351201365880578414.post-67426910601195115952014-02-07T19:09:00.001-08:002014-02-11T11:38:29.622-08:00AZ Trail RaceAfter a very rocky finish to 2013, I was able to open up 2014 on a high note with a third place finish at the <a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2014/01/coldwater-rumble-52k.html">Coldwater Rumble 52k</a>. It felt like I got that 'monkey off my back' and I regained some of the confidence I had lost.<br>
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Now it was time to gear up for my third stab at the <a href="http://www.oldpueblo50.com/">Old Pueblo 50 Mile Endurance Run</a>. No more races until then, I had decided. That was until the race director for <a href="http://www.everyoneruns.net/">Everyone Runs</a>, Steve Landau sent me a message that went something like this; "You should stop spending all of your money in Phoenix and do The AZ Trail Race." </div>
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Steve also happens to be a good friend of mine and I am a member of 'Team Everyone Runs', so it got me thinking..</div>
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In 2010 I ran on trails for my first time at <a href="http://www.fleetfeettucson.com/racing/az-trail-race">The AZ Trail Race</a> 8 Miler. I ended up coming in tenth place overall and won an award for claiming second in my age group. It was the first time I realized that maybe <i>I </i>could be a fast, competitive runner. I had not entered that race with intentions of winning anything, I was just enjoying my fourth race ever. I received that award and never looked back. Now I enter EVERY race with intentions of winning. My affinity for trail running has since blossomed. It is my life. So needless to say, this race has a special spot in my heart.<br>
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As an added bonus, my fellow ultra-running, TTR'ing, sport-loving, shit-talking good friend of mine, Michael Duer, was making his "comeback to race-ing" debut there.. This proposition just made sense!</div>
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This race is a sell out every year but Steve said he would get me in. So, at the last minute, I decided to go for <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">it. How well I would perform in a race that was so much shorter in distance and faster in speed than I have become accustomed to was a mystery to me. It's been a long time </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">since I did a race this short. Besides '<a href="http://sionlupo.blogspot.com/2013/07/run-with-roosters.html">Run With The Roosters</a> 5 miler' over the summer, the last one I did was the AZ Trail Race a year ago. I have become so wrapped up in my ultra-running that I really haven't focused much on speed work (something I should do anyway). </span></div>
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I was nervous about the decision to do it, for fear I might have a terrible day and disappoint myself. But what's life without the chance of failure! </div>
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I woke up on race day very relaxed. I really didn't know what to expect in regards to my performance, but I did know it would be over fairly quick. I decided to ditch the trail shoes and throw on my Adidas Adios racers. "Time to go fast!" I thought to myself. Kristi and I arrived at the <a href="http://www.colossalcave.com/welcome.html">Colossal Cave Mountain Park</a> and met up with Michael Duer and his wife, Kristi (yes, they have the same name). The two Kristi's hung out while Duer and I did a little shake out run.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJT7ArRZaZC4h8bQoaS0uB_NCPX98KSmLCeoAalmjnEHvHuvZ5QwPrxrS6K2Ba5DUf1E6uuRMhhDWb_T-BDpFaOb7tawAN-bSX6hhDp-7RD9LGe1uTexK5z0leq0yYVvfq2vmfbPsvTQ/s1600/1798032_10203153899030645_1181710852_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJT7ArRZaZC4h8bQoaS0uB_NCPX98KSmLCeoAalmjnEHvHuvZ5QwPrxrS6K2Ba5DUf1E6uuRMhhDWb_T-BDpFaOb7tawAN-bSX6hhDp-7RD9LGe1uTexK5z0leq0yYVvfq2vmfbPsvTQ/s1600/1798032_10203153899030645_1181710852_n.jpg" height="400" width="266"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duer and I discussing some race strategy<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duer and I accepting "secret" strategy tips from the race director himself</td></tr>
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"How do you feel?" I asked Duer, "I don't know, I haven't raced in soooo long! I was up all night thinking about this.." Duer has started out the season looking strong as ever. After dealing with multiple injuries for sometime, it's great to see him back. "You'll do great, your running really well" I encouraged him. "You should kill it!" He emphatically told me. Time would tell.</div>
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It was time to line up. "Stay relaxed" I kept telling myself during the National Anthem. "Meet the moment." </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dude, it's only 8 miles.."</td></tr>
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After wishing Duer luck, I put on my game face and focused. The countdown dwindled down to zero and the race was on!<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blast off!</td></tr>
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There is a steep hill to start the race. I let a group of about four runners lead the way as I tried to settle into my rhythm. As we topped out I realized the pace was much slower than I had anticipated, which I was happy about. No one jumped way ahead, so I let it stay that way. As we made our way back down the hill and onto the trail, I had moved up into second place.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fsHpwGf_QUwKAA6oYwOD2tNFhKm2pFI6c2LNIq59406b07rF-XevAnLPEq9PJ5Fu4NvNQd-Ac2332I5CgI_STCGAMLkXCzvcIEChksL-44LtvBqB3ZtT5JqIVm2LStwKi-u5Omrf7Q/s1600/1798416_10203153931671461_1304108766_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fsHpwGf_QUwKAA6oYwOD2tNFhKm2pFI6c2LNIq59406b07rF-XevAnLPEq9PJ5Fu4NvNQd-Ac2332I5CgI_STCGAMLkXCzvcIEChksL-44LtvBqB3ZtT5JqIVm2LStwKi-u5Omrf7Q/s1600/1798416_10203153931671461_1304108766_n.jpg" height="265" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surveying the comp early on</td></tr>
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We hit the AZ Trail and began enjoying some single-track delight. The weather was crisp and it made for perfect running conditions. The runner in first place had already began to slow down as we zig-zagged up the trail. I knew if I let him stay in the lead, I would have no chance at a PR. So I decided, "what the hell, go for it.." </div>
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I had told myself to stay conservative, but this pace was too slow. I had to make a push and I was willing to take the risk. "Excuse me sir" I said as I cruised around him. I took over first place and upped the pace a few notches. Switching trail shoes for the racers was a great idea. I was flying!</div>
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I felt great. I was enjoying the trail and the picturesque views as I trotted along. The course isn't overwhelmingly technical, but it does go up and down a lot which takes a toll as the race wears on. After a couple of miles, myself and two other runners had made some separation. It was quite apparent that it would be a race between us three for the win. </div>
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As I approached the first aid station I realized that there was only one runner close behind me. The third runner had fallen back. I had already decided that I would do this race without taking a drop of water or anything else for that matter, so I didn't even slow as I passed by. </div>
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This next section of the race is probably the toughest. It's a climb for the next couple miles and I began to feel a little fatigued for the first time. It may have been in my best interest to let the youngster on my heels pass, rather than allowing him to sit back and draft off me. Instead, I continued on. That would be my only mistake of the day. </div>
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Around 5 miles in, we hit a dirt road that looped back to the AZ Trail. This race is essentially an out and back minus a couple of detours included. As we approached a downhill section I began to think, "this kid is gonna smash the <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">descent and leave me behind. Dammit, I should have let him pass earlier instead of allowing him to save all of his energy.." </span></div>
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As I become more experienced at running races, I am learning that while a lot goes into how fit you are, there is also a great deal of strategy involved. On this day, I didn't have the best strategy. As soon as we hit the descent, he blew by me. I just didn't have the leg speed to keep up with him, so I made my wisest decision of the day, I let him go. I figured I might have a shot at him later or I might not, but I wasn't going to risk losing second place and a chance at a PR.</div>
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I watched him run off and regained control of my breathing. I was holding onto a 6:45 pace and felt pretty comfortable. Then I entered the part of the race where you deal with all of the runners going the opposite direction. There were a few instances where I was forced to the side of the trail in order to avert a head-on collision. Good times!<br>
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Once I got past all of the mayhem, I settled back into my groove. And I was definitely feeling solid. "Looks like a second place finish is in the cards!" I thought to myself, followed by "you should have been smarter, you would've won the race!!" </div>
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Unless I win, I am never satisfied. It's in my nature. I feed off it. I love it. </div>
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With about a mile to go I took a peek behind me and I saw the third place runner in the distance. He had made up some ground. "It's time to give it EVERYTHING!" I reprimanded myself. I picked up my pace and put the pedal to the metal. </div>
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The last stretch to the finish is a steady climb and I was grinding gears. My pace continued to get quicker as I closed in on the finish. I was now fully in control of second place. I pushed myself as hard as I could and flew through the finish in 55:28, good for second place overall and a 27 second PR!!<br>
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Duer came rumbling through the finish soon after, securing a solid fifth place finish. Welcome back, Micheal Duer! A couple of ultra-runners runnin' it fast! </div>
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As it turned out, the last mile of the race was my fastest of the day. That allowed me to close the gap on the first place finisher, who got me by less than a minute. Congrats to the youngster from South Dakota (I think). </div>
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Thanks to <a href="http://www.fleetfeettucson.com/">Fleet Feet Tucson </a>and Everyone Runs for putting on this great trail race every year. It will forever be one of my favorites!<br>
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Sirunbenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03042235819785116096noreply@blogger.com2