Touching Dreams

As 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.

It was a fact because it was my dream...

I remember my Mother asking me "Sion, what do you want to do when you grow up?"

Without hesitation, I would blurt out "I am going to play for the Phillies!"

"Okay, what else would you like to do...?" She would ask. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

I eventually left my life in New Mexico behind. I ended up in Tucson, Arizona. I was still determined to continue living life on my terms. And the life I lived continued to deal me a bad hand.

I vaguely remember sitting in front of an auto parts store panhandling money;

"What happened to you, Sion?" I asked myself.. "Why did you do this?"

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.

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.

"This isn't the life for me.." I remember thinking. "Get out of here."

And so I left. I left in search of a better life. 

With the continued support of my family, I eventually began to rebuild my life. And somewhere along the way, I began to run. 

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. 

I raced as much as I could. I found peace of mind. I ate. I slept. I laughed. I cried. 

I ran until I collapsed. 

A void had been filled. I had discovered my secret to life and I was in love.

Running had saved me and subsequently, trail running defined me. 

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.

The work has brought me one step closer to that dream 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.

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.

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.

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.



                                 Follow your passion, be prepared to work hard and
                                 sacrifice, and, above all, don't let anyone limit you dreams.
                                                         
                                                                               ~ Donovan Bailey



                                       

Team Aravaipa 2015  

Colossal-Vail 50/50

2014 has been one wild ultra-running adventure for me. It all started at Old Pueblo when a torrential rainstorm absolutely demolished the Santa Rita mountains and the race course. And than it was Zane Grey. 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 Vertigo Night Race. Good times if you ask me!

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 Mogollon Monster 100. 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?!

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! 

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!

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.

Then like a brick to the ole' noggin, it dawned on me; The Inaugural Colossal-Vail 50/50. 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.

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!

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..

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 Colossal Cave Mountain Park about a half hour prior to the start.

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..

"It's going to get hot once that sun comes up.." I thought to myself. "I'll take it!!"

I immediately ran into Charlie Ware 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!

"There is a guy that ran a six forty five 50 miler a couple week ago doing the race." Charlie informed me.

"What? Damn, that is friggin' fast.." I responded.

"I know. Looks like there is some more competition!" Charlie quipped.

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. 

I felt the adrenaline make it's usual pre-race trip through my veins.

I did my usual pre-race pep talk with myself;

"Don't go out too fast blah blah blah..."

"Stay hydrated blah blah blah..."

"Don't forget to eat blah blah blah..."

"Why do I do this shit blah blah blah..."

It was go time!!

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.

We all chatted and I got to meet the other runner, Kent Green. 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.

The three of us cruised at an easy pace and continued chatting away.

"What's with all the chatter?" A female voice surprisingly chimed in.

It turned out Kelly Wild was right there behind us. 

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..

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.

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.

"Keep it easy, Sion.." I mumble to myself.

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.

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. 

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. 

"Hey, that's James Mills." I said to myself.

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.

"This is my first ultra." James told me.

"You better watch out, this shit becomes addicting.." I said as I cruised away. "Enjoy!"

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 my race.

I was feeling pretty darn good. I was chomping on Honey Stinger 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. 

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 Gabe McGowan, who was absolutely destroying the 50k! 

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. 

"Good job, bro!" I shouted.

"You too!" He replied.

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.

While I did pull away from the rest of the group, there was no sign of Charlie. 

"Damn, dude is like... Gone.." I said to myself. 

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!

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. 

I hit the marathon mark at 3:45 and felt phenomenal. 

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. 

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. 

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.

It was great to see Kristi as I got refueled. Catlow was helping out as well as Doreen and Ross. 

"Charlie is only a few minutes ahead.." Ross explained

"Hopefully he falls apart.." I cynically responded.  "In a friendly way.."

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!

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!!!

"Ahh hell..." I moaned. "Instead of saying 'hopefully he falls apart'.. I should've said 'hopefully I don't fall apart'..." 

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... 

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! 

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!!

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!" 

That phrase never gets old!

Renee handed me some grilled cheese and I filled up my handhelds. 

"Three and a half miles to the turn around." Renee informed me.

"Three and a half miles.." I said.

I looked at my watch: 41:20 miles

"Wow, this race is going to be a lot further than 50 miles!" I shouted with desperation peppered in my voice.

On I went!

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.

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,

"You're not going to catch him, just focus on holding onto second place.." I told myself. 

I thanked the volunteers working at the turnaround. 

"The 50 miler that's actually 54 miles.." I said to the group.

"Yeah. That's good!" One of them shouted.

"Of course it is.. More bang for your buck!" I yelled back as I began the final stretch back to Colossal Cave.

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! 

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..

"Oh, thank God." I said with relief. "There it is.."

But as I looked up again, it was gone.

"What the? Damn, I'm hallucinating." I mumbled.

After a few more hills, a few more hallucinations and a few more curse words, I arrived back at the Pistol Hill AS. 

I put some ice under my hat, got my bottles filled and got gone! Time for the home stretch! 

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. 

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!

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! 

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!

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 Chrissy Parks! Well done! 

For everyone else out there pushing yourselves past what you thought you were capable of, congratulations. You are all my heroes.

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! 

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.

                               ~All Photographs courtesy of GOATographer (Kerry Whelan)

Mogollon Monster 100

Last 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 that day and fell in love with the beautifully brutal and rugged landscape that is "The Rim".

"I gotta do the Monster.." I told myself on the drive back to Tucson. "One day.."

I have had a pretty wild year of racing, it has had a little of everything. A torrential rainstorm absolutely demolished Old Pueblo. A blizzard engulfed Zane Grey. Hell, even a Haboob whipped around the Vertigo Night Race forcing a shutdown.

It hasn't been your typical Arizona race conditions this year. Not at all.

But through all of the wild, wet, cold, windy and HOT conditions that I've dealt with this year, I have had my best year of running and racing, ever. So when a couple friends of mine made the commitment to MOG, I decided that now was as good a time as any. I was in!

The Mogollon Monster 100 is not just any one hundred mile race. For one, it is closer to 107 miles and has over 23,000 feet of elevation gain. The trails are extremely technical and the landscape is rugged and unforgiving. It is a beast.

As race day neared, I second guessed just about everything.

"I'm not ready."

"I need more miles. More vert.

"I need counseling."

"I'm doomed."

You know, the usual. But in reality, I had very solid training and was free from any significant injuries. I was good to go.

I finished up my last long run the week before the race and began my taper. I was having an ordinary day at work on Monday morning when all of a sudden something wasn't right. I began vomiting and got hot and cold sweats. I suffered through the rest of my work day, came home and collapsed on my couch.

I was shivering. Something was terribly wrong.

"I think I may be getting the flu.." I moaned to Kristi.

"Don't make yourself sick, your probably just nervous because of the race.." She tried to convince me.

"No, I don't think so. I think I'm getting sick.."

That night I crawled into bed around seven o'clock in sweats and a hoodie and shivered myself to sleep. I dreamt of the race. I dreamt that I couldn't run, that I just stood there while everyone else sprinted into the distance. I was paralyzed. I couldn't move.

I awoke drenched in sweat.

Things were not looking good but fortunately it wasn't the flu. My health improved during the next few days and I got refocused on the all the loose ends that needed to be taken care of. Drop bags, pacer, crew... Oh, and rain gear. That's right, rain gear.

Unbelievably, it was supposed to get stormy on the rim during the race. That's right, again, a freak storm was expected to crash an Arizona ultra!!

"There is no way in hell it is going to be that bad.." I thought to myself. "Not again."

But predictions grew increasingly worse.

It was going to be that bad.

I made sure Kristi had all the instructions to navigate around the race course and my buddy, Korey Konga was all set to pace me from mile 63. I packed more crap into my drop bags than a Kardashian and I was ready to roll.

Word Salad!!

So Friday morning I set off with Michael Duer, his wife, Kristi (not to be confused with my girlfriend) and his mother, Gail, to their family cabin which is conveniently located near Pine, where the race begins. Mike and I picked up our bibs and on our drive back to the cabin we noticed that it had already rained in the area. Lightning was flashing like a strobe light in the distance and mist wafted off the ground. It was like a scene from a horror movie.

Mike and I glanced at each other and said little. Nothing needed to be said. We both knew what was coming..

We got back to the cabin and quickly called it a night. I dozed off but was jolted out of my slumber by the rumbling thunder. I sat up shaking, my heart thumping through my chest.

"Holy shit."

The rain began coming down furiously.

"Well, maybe the storm is already passing through.." I tried to be positive.

The night continued on with that same pattern until it was time to get up. Mike and I got our race stuff together. Kristi and Gail helped us choke down some breakfast and off we went. There was steady rain fall and I grew increasingly more nervous.

We arrived at the Pine Trailhead with about an hour to spare. It was cloudy but the rain had subsided. It was actually really nice out. Soon the race director (and friend of mine), Jeremy Dougherty announced that it was time for the pre-race briefing.

Jeremy said a lot during the briefing but all I heard was "It is going to get really bad out there."

The national anthem was played and I got goosebumps as we all got ready to begin this incredible adventure.

This is what I work for. This is what I suffer for.

This is what I live for!

Time ticked down and we were off, literally and figuratively! I let a lot of runners go ahead of me, probably about 50. I told myself all along that I was not racing anyone, I just wanted to finish this race. So I eased into it.

I passed some runners here and there and settled in behind Mike. We hung with a group of about five others for several miles at a reasonably easy pace. I am a very competitive runner, so it was an unusual feeling to not pay attention or care how far back I was from the leaders. I tried to enjoy the moment in it's entirety.

The rain started up as we made a climb that brought us into the clouds. The mud made its first ugly appearance and it was clear that dealing with mud was going to be half the battle. We all sort of half laughed at ourselves as we slipped and slid up and down the slippery trail.

"The probability of me actually finishing this race is very small.." I quipped as I used every muscle in my body to not face plant into the mud. Everyone sort of laughed with desperation.

Mike, feeling like the pace was a bit too slow, passed the group and began pulling away.

"Thank God." I mumbled under my breath as I passed by our little group and hung onto his heels.

The next several miles I cruised with my broseph, Michael Duer. It was surprisingly nice out and the temperature was comfortable. Besides some mud here and there, it was perfect. It was fun chatting with Mike as we enjoyed the absolute beauty that was on display.

We took it really easy on our first big climb up the rim. We chatted with a runner from Texas on the way up (Apparently everyone in Texas does this race).  Our breathing never became labored. Easy does it. We topped out and the views were breathtaking.

The two of us rolled into Dickerson Flat AS and refueled. I discovered something at that aid station that was life changing. It should be considered a modern day miracle. The Nutella and peanut butter sandwich is made from Heaven! I can taste it right now... I digress. On we went!

Mike and I began passing runners here and there as we enjoyed some nice downhill running. Eventually we made it to a very technical and steep downhill section that dropped us straight off the rim. For the first time of the day, I pulled ahead of Mike.

I felt full of energy. I hopped and skipped down the rock cliff like a billy goat. I realized that all of the holding back I did early on was really paying off now. I made it to the bottom and dealt with some more of the muddy-mud-mud-mud.

"Damn you, Mud!" I shouted while I mud-skied down a slope.

Mike remained close behind me but it would be the last I saw of him.

I hit the Geronimo AS, gulped gatorade, ate a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich and some fruit then made my way to the Highline Trail.

I really fell into a grove when I hit the Highline. It was like Zane Grey all over again dealing with the mud on that trail. I had practiced this once before!!

I passed runner after runner. I was on autopilot. Every runner that I passed seem to be struggling which only infused the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The storm was holding off and it was at that moment that I realized that I really could do this. I was going to finish this race!

I continued cruising and soon passed a couple of hikers.

"You're in 21st place. Leaders about 45 minutes ahead." One of them informed me.

"I got a long time to catch up!" I responded.

I was really enjoying myself and the freedom that this incredible sport allows me to feel. I continued moving up in the race as I floated along the Highline Trail. 20th place, 19th place... 14th place, 13th place..

I eventually came rumbling into the Washington Park AS at mile 27. I had moved into 12th place and my adrenaline was going bonkers!

I got some dry clothes out of my drop bag and made a quick change. I was eager to get this gnarly climb up the rim over with so I didn't waste any time before I departed. Up the rim I went!

The climb up the rim from Washington Park is two miles of steepness that Kilian would approve of. The wind progressively got stronger the higher I went. I eventually topped out.

There was a few people at the top staring at me as I gasped for air.

"That shit sucked." I said with a smile as I headed off on the rim road.

The next five miles were along the rim road. It was tough to sustain running, so I found a nice rhythm. Running and walking, running and walking. The view looking off the rim is something that postcards are made of. Spectacular would be an insult.

It seemed like it took an eternity to get to Houston Brother Trail. I was so excited to get off that road. I felt like the life had been sucked out of me. I was feeling fatigued. I was a little concerned.

The Houston Brothers AS was a life saver because they had Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches. I must've eaten three or four of those heavenly delectables. I swigged some ginger ale and I carried on.

The next stretch seemed to go up and down, up and down. I got winded and gasped for air. I sat down for the first time. I leaned on a tree and looked at my watch: 8:45. I had only been going for eight hours and forty five minutes and I felt like I couldn't take another step.

"I'm toasted.." I said under my breath.. "There is no way I can go on for another fourteen, fifteen hours. No way."

I got up and took a deep breath. I stared at my surroundings. I absorbed the beauty. I smelled the fresh air. I looked down and picked a mushroom from the soil. The mushroom was covered in mud but I could see a bright red color gleaming underneath the muck. I took my fingers and wiped the dirt off it until it shined like a ruby.

"This is the adventure you've always wanted, Sion." I said to myself.

I dropped the mushroom and bolted down the trail. I am not sure what happened at that moment. Some things shouldn't be questioned. Whatever it was, it worked.

The next section of trail was the most beautiful running I have ever experienced. I floated along as if I had grown wings. I was no longer tired, instead I was full of energy. The single track trail was mesmerizing. Leaves were falling from the trees and wildflowers were in full bloom. It was precious.

I pretty much went in a zone and before I knew it I was on the heels of another runner.

"Hey, man. How's it going?" I asked him.

"Good. Man, you are looking fresh!" He pointed out.

"I had a little pep talk with myself and it seemed to do the trick!" I shouted as I flew by him.

As I approached the Pinchot AS at mile 41, I heard a familiar voice scream, "That's what I'm talking about!" And There to greet me was fellow TTR'er (Tucson Trail Runners) and Hardrocker himself, Mr. Bob Bachani! We shared a hug and it was all smiles... Then I was informed of the not so lovely news.

The storm was coming. It was going to hit in the next half hour or so and it was a doozie. I had my heavier rain gear down at Washington Park AS, which was another nine miles away. I did have a long sleeve shirt in a drop bag there, so I put that on and headed out of there. I needed to get to Washington Park.

"Long live TTR!!" I screamed as I took off.

Despite the bad news, I was excited. I was feeling solid as gold. In no time I would get to see Kristi for a little bit and Korey would pace me through the night. It was good. It was all good.

Soon I caught up with another runner and we shared a couple of miles together. We talked about the bad weather that was clearly moving in. We both agreed that we were on a pace to finish around 25 hours. We were being optimistic that the rain would come and that the rain would go. It would be fine.

The moment I pulled away from him was the moment it got ugly. The wind kicked up and the rain began to fall. The temperature immediately dropped and my hands became frozen. Lightning was striking alarmingly close and I was genuinely frightened.

All of a sudden I saw a runner coming back the opposite direction.

"I haven't seen a course marker for a long time. Are we going the right way?" He asked.

"Yeah, man. This is the right way, keep on going!" I shouted through the rain, wind and thunder. Once again it was survival mode. I've been here before.

At this point the rain was coming down in sheets and the trail was ankle deep water. It had become Old Pueblo-esq, if you will.

My hands were no longer working and hypothermia was beginning to set in.

"I am so tired of this shit!" I screamed. "Why does this keep happening..?"

I finally hit the section that I knew took me up to the top of the rim. From there I would drop down the steep section that leads to Washington Park. I was on my way.

"You are going to dry off, get some warm gear and get going." I told myself. "Quit whining, you are going to finish this thing off."

And soon I hit the top of the rim.

There were some people sitting, sheltered underneath a covering. They were all huddled near a fire.

"Hey, you okay?" one of them shouted to me.

"I'm okay. I just need to warm my hands up." I told them.

They brought me to the fire and I began defrosting my fingers.

We were having a conversation about the insanity of the storm when all of a sudden, over the radio, there was an announcement about the race.

I heard it loud and clear: "The race is going to be shut down at Washington Park."

Time slowed down and for a moment the world seemed to stand still.

"Shut down? But, I need to finish this race." I though to myself.

I looked at everyone sitting there as I stood up.

"I gotta go.." I said as I walked back into the storm.

I descended the rim in the heart of the storm. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of me. I was upset but understood that this was becoming very dangerous. I wondered where Kristi and Korey were. Were they waiting for me at Buck Springs AS? Was the rim road even drivable? Were they safe?

The stretch back to Washington Park was a blur of unknowns but I eventually made it back. I wrapped up 51 miles in a time of 11:21:03. I was in ninth place at the time.

It is bittersweet. I don't know how my race would have unfolded moving forward but I am quite sure it was going to be epic. That being said, I had an amazing experience out there and gained a ton of confidence going into my next 100 miler. I know what I am capable of.

I want to thank Jeremy Dougherty for making the tough decision to shut it down. I am quite sure that wasn't an easy choice. It was however, the right choice. Thanks to all of the volunteers and radio personal out there helping us do what we love. You are truly appreciated.

I also must note the appreciation I have for my buddy, Korey who spent hours in a car to pace me, only to spend more hours in a car and not pace me. Thanks man! And lastly, my girlfriend, Kristi who drove all around the universe trying to make sure I had everything I needed. I couldn't do this stuff without you!

And finally, I must say that I will be back to finish off The Mogollon Monster 100. I can't put it into words just how ridiculously awesome the race truly is.

It is a beautiful challenge.

Pre-race National Anthem 

Michael Duer and myself early on

Running in the clouds

Looking off the rim

Until next year..

                  ~All photo's courtesy of Andrew Pielage Photography

Porched Belonging

The rain is beginning to fall. It continues to fall harder as the night wears on. 

"I can't believe this shit.." I moan. "A torrential rain storm." 

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.

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. 

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 they changed the locks. Before they locked me out. He offered to help, along with another friend who had a truck. 

We loaded everything I owned onto the bed of the truck but I had nowhere to go..

"Can I just crash at your place, just for a few days...?"

He wasn't thrilled with the idea but allowed me to make use of his porch.

Everything I own is right here on this porch. This is it. I'm surrounded by all of it, the treasures and the trash.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

The next day that counselor would suffer a heart attack and die. 

"Why?" I asked myself. "Why is my life so troubled?"

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.

What I didn't have was a home. 

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.

Eventually the rain water would flood the porch. A search for solutions would flood my mind. Lost wouldn't begin to describe my existence.

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.

Through the wreckage I found freedom. Through the freedom, I found a home.

I am no longer laying on a porch full of tears.

            

ㄣƖ0ᄅ oƃıʇɹǝʌ

My body is sizzling. My mind is fried. I put one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.

"One more loop.." I moan. "One more loop and I'll win this thing."

Suddenly a gust of wind slaps me across the face jolting me out of the daze that had enveloped me.

"What the..?" 

I am sprayed with sand, all over my body and into my eyes. A rain drop hits my skin and quickly turns to steam. 

----

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. 

I had a phenomenal race at Adrenaline. 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.

I probably wouldn't have decided to race the Vertigo 63k had it not been for my training partner and good friend, Korey Konga. I had a great race a few weeks prior, it was time to focus on the Mogollon 100. But Korey was registered for the 31k and I really enjoy the Insomniac Series of night races that Aravaipa Running puts on.

The final element that helped me pull the trigger was the fact that I had run Vertigo last year and had a sub-par race. I didn't run my race and it ended up ruining my day. I wanted a little redemption at Vertigo.

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.

I was wrong.

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. 

"Damn, it is going to be a hot one.." Korey said.

"Yeah, this right here.. This is ridiculous.." I responded.

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.

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.

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. 

I love to race!

The countdown ensued and we were off! I promised myself to run my race, so I eased into a nice pace. I watched young Cristian Rios fly ahead of the pack and make separation. Last year I got sucked into a sprint with Cristian, this year, I knew better.

"This kid is gonna blow up.." I thought to myself. "Run your race."

I trotted along with Michael Carson 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.

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.

"You alright? Carson asked.

"No." Cristian answered.

"Do you need anything?"

He shook his head.

We continued on. 

As soon as I left the North Ridge aid station I began getting some gnarly stomach cramps.

"I hope these fade.." I thought. "Or I'm in for a long night."

Carson and I finished up the first loop together, grabbed a few things from the aid station and quickly continued on our way.  

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. 

"I can't do this.." I sadly thought. "I'm gonna have to drop. I'm just going to have to.."

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. 

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. 

I refueled, loaded up on some Honey Stinger Chews and departed. 

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.

"Pull the plug, Sion." I mumbled. "This just ain't worth it.."

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!

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.

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.

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.

I continued battling and soon made my way to Ultracity, finishing up the fourth loop. Korey was there and asked what I needed.

"Did you win?" I asked

"Yes. What do you need?" He responded.

Glad to hear that he had won his race, I wanted to know where I stood in my race.

"Water. How far ahead is Carson?"

"Carson dropped. You're taking over first place." 

This was music to my ears. I had run my 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!

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.

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. 

It wouldn't go away...

----

"Rain!" I shouted aloud. "Nice!"

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.

"This is unbelievable!" 

I picked up my pace and felt better than ever. I was ready for the last loop! 

As I came around the corner and made the final approach to Ultracity, I realized it looked darker than before. It looked different. 

I got closer and realized that everything was being broken down, packed up.

"What the hell?" I thought. "What's going on..?"

Korey was standing at what used to be the finish line. 

"It's over, man." 

"It's over?" I thought to myself.

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! 

Alas, it was not meant to be. 

He snapped a picture of my watch and the race was over. It was over the moment I was ready to race! 

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.

This is the third race I have participated in this year that was affected by severe weather. Old Pueblo, Zane Grey and Vertigo. A torrential rainstorm, a blizzard and a haboob. Bizarre.

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! 

As disappointing as it was to not get to finish the race off, I completely understand and respect the decision. 

It is the experience that I take home with me.

Korey and myself getting ready to race! Photo: Jamil Coury via Twiinkly App.

Getting my mind right. Photo: Aravaipa Running

Off to the races! Photo: Korey Konga

Hot. Hot. Hot. Photo: Aravaipa Running

And one for the road! Photo: Michelle Sager via Twiinkly App.

Nighty night. Photo: Kristi McCauley

Adrenaline

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. Aravaipa Running is putting Arizona on the map as one of the premier places to live if you are into racing on trails. 

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!

Moving forward...

Aravaipa Running puts on a series of night races during the smoldering Summer heat. Last year I had a blast at both Vertigo and Javelina Jangover, so I was excited to get to participate in the "Insomniac Series" for 2014. 

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. 

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 Zane Grey. 

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 Sunset Loops. Seventeen miles completely wrecked me and I just registered for a race that was more than twice the distance...

Maybe I should have my head examined.

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!

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! 

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.

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. 

Blackett's is the shit. 

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?

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.

I had absolutely no idea what to expect as Kristi and I packed our bags and hit the road for Fountain Hills. 

"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..."

"You'll be fine." Was her response.

"She has way too much confidence in me." I thought to myself.

"I'll know around 25 miles whether I will be fine or not. That's when I'll know.." 

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.

Lacing 'em up

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.

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 adrenaline 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!

This is what I live for!!

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.

Off to the races!

Adam Barstad 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.

"Damn, Blackett's training is paying off!" I began thinking, "This is a breeze.."

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.

I felt full of energy but had a little nausea. I tasted my dinner coming up. 

"Hope that subsides.."

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.

"This guy is gonna push me all night.. I should have held back, I think I just screwed myself." I sadly thought.

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. 

"This pace is going to destroy me." I morbidly mumbled under my breath. I kept going.

I finished off the first loop (6.2m) in 44:47, feeling fresh and loose. Bret Sarnquist was there helping out at the aid station.

"You look solid, man. Nice consistent pace. Is there anyone behind you? 

"There was..." I responded.

"He must have fallen back." Bret encouraged me.

"I don't think he is that far back!" I said as I took off. 

I met up with Kristi and swapped my handheld for my pack. I gave her a hug and took off, starting my second loop.

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. 

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. 

Dust was flying as hundreds of feet pounded the sandy trail. I soon hit the Escondido aid station. Maria Walton handed me some S-Caps and off I went. My energy level was still solid but the nausea was getting more severe. 

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.

"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!"

While that did make me feel a little better, the process was repeated several more times throughout the race. 

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 Honey Stinger chews, threw on a shirt, gave Kristi a kiss and bolted out of there! 

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. 

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.

"You are doing awesome, babe!" Kristi exclaimed, "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted.." I admitted, "There is still a long way to go.."

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?

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.

"Just walk for a minute. Stop running. You must." My mind barked at me.

I ignored it. I kept running.

I hit the Escondido aid station and quickly continued on. One foot in front of the other. This loop was longer this time around.

"I don't remember this.." I was delirious.

 I finally made it the the flat section. My pace picked back up. 

All of a sudden, I was running sub 8's again!

I hadn't stopped running through all of the pain I was enduring, now I felt like I had a second wind!

Soon enough, I was wrapping up the fourth loop (33.6m) in 4:19:56.

"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.

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. 

To my surprise, I continued running. I ran the whole way up and topped out.

"Holy crap.." I was in disbelief  "I still feel good!" 

I barreled down the roller coaster descent and hit the flat section for the last time of the night. 

"It's time to give it all that I got!"

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 adrenaline as I whipped around the bend and shot through the finish line (39.7m) in 5:16:10!!!

Wrappin' it up!

"Oh yeah!" I shouted! 

Kristi came over and congratulated me. 

"That was the best race of my life." I said.

And it was.

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.

Good times!

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. 

It was an incredible experience to feel that strong for a race of that distance. It's tough to put the feeling into words. 

Congratulations to Magi Redlich, the overall female winner and Adam Barstad, who also ended up going sub-6 with an impressive time of 5:53:06. Nice work! 

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.

Until next time... 

I don't normally run relays but when I do, I run them solo.