I stayed healthy, ran more miles and climbed higher than ever before. 2015 was a success!!
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..
Getting lost at Black Canyon 100K.
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.
I did finish the race, but the thought of it is like a punch to the throat. And throat punches hurt.
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.
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.
I felt good!!
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!
That's why when my face blew up like a balloon four days before the race, I wasn't shocked.
Because running.
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!!
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.
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!!"
It was all mapped out for me... Just needed to run over 62 miles to experience it. That's all...
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.
It was expected that we would be flirting with some record breaking temps as well.
It was going to be a scorcher.
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.
"There's the fast guy.." I said, pointing to Sage Canaday.
Charlie looked at me unfazed. I knew at that moment, he was on a level. We'll just leave it at that.
The familiar countdown ensued and we were off!
Ultra racing is a combination of fitness, strategy, risk and guts.
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..
We ticked off the first mile of the race and my Garmin barked at me; 06:35.
"Shit.. This is too fast.." I said to myself as I backed off.
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.
"The hell.. They're flying!"
And they were.
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!!
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.
As they say, good things come to those that wait...
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.
"You are blessed.." I told myself.
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| Early miles.. Pic: SweetMimages |
"You are blessed.." I told myself.
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.
Freedom to explore is the greatest gift I've discovered.
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.
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.
"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.
I threw my pack on and gave chase!
"I can't keep losing ground!" I shrieked.
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.
"Hope I can sustain this shit..." I mumbled under my breath...
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!
"Bring it on! I am a certified Arizonan!"
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
Jamil Coury was there doing a little cinematography..
"Where the hell is everybody??" I asked him.
"They're hammering it. There's going to be some carnage.."
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.
"This guy isn't messing around.." I realized.
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.
"Okay, now keep reeling them in.." I thought.
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.
Fernando was there as well.
"What happened to your boy?" I quipped.
"I think the pace was too fast.." he explained. "He is just trying to break 12 hours.."
The two of us left the aid station together. I would get to know Fernando Blanco quite well over the next several hours.
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.
"How do your legs feel?" Fernando asked.
"Good." I quickly answered.
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.
Oh no, not this.." I thought to myself.
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.
"Just keep grinding." I told myself.
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.
I got a reload of some of that 'oh so wonderful' H2O, sucked down a Honey Stinger and bailed.
I felt a spring of energy as I pulled off.
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.
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...
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.
The cramps had gotten worse. I grabbed a handful of salt and poured it onto my tongue, then sucked down a gatorade chaser.
"That'll put hair on your chest!"
I had my first (but not last!) thought of dropping the race as I stood there contemplating heading back out. Back out there. Into the inferno.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
My legs felt heavy as I forced myself back into a steady jog.
"Jesus, my feet feel like bricks.." I grumbled.
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.
The cramps had subsided briefly, but I could feel them beginning to resurface.
"Oh shit.. Here we go."
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.
The runner quickly caught up.
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.
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..
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.
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.
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.
"Damn, back from the dead.." I thought to myself.
Soon after Miguel pulled away, Fernando came flying up the trail.
"You alright?" Fernando asked.
"Yeah, just some really bad cramps." I moaned.
"Hang in there." He said as he pulled away from me.
This was demoralizing. I was so frustrated. I stopped and sat on the side of the trail in disgust.
"Give it everything you have, Sion." I told myself. "Everything."
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.
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.
"This guy isn't messing around.." I realized.
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.
"Okay, now keep reeling them in.." I thought.
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.
Fernando was there as well.
"What happened to your boy?" I quipped.
"I think the pace was too fast.." he explained. "He is just trying to break 12 hours.."
The two of us left the aid station together. I would get to know Fernando Blanco quite well over the next several hours.
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.
"How do your legs feel?" Fernando asked.
"Good." I quickly answered.
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.
Oh no, not this.." I thought to myself.
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.
"Just keep grinding." I told myself.
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.
I got a reload of some of that 'oh so wonderful' H2O, sucked down a Honey Stinger and bailed.
I felt a spring of energy as I pulled off.
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.
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...
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.
The cramps had gotten worse. I grabbed a handful of salt and poured it onto my tongue, then sucked down a gatorade chaser.
"That'll put hair on your chest!"
I had my first (but not last!) thought of dropping the race as I stood there contemplating heading back out. Back out there. Into the inferno.
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.
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.
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.
 |
| Howie Stern could't have caught it any better |
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.
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.
My legs felt heavy as I forced myself back into a steady jog.
"Jesus, my feet feel like bricks.." I grumbled.
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.
The cramps had subsided briefly, but I could feel them beginning to resurface.
"Oh shit.. Here we go."
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.
The runner quickly caught up.
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.
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..
"But this was my redemption race..." I mumble under my breath.
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.
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.
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.
"Damn, back from the dead.." I thought to myself.
Soon after Miguel pulled away, Fernando came flying up the trail.
"You alright?" Fernando asked.
"Yeah, just some really bad cramps." I moaned.
"Hang in there." He said as he pulled away from me.
This was demoralizing. I was so frustrated. I stopped and sat on the side of the trail in disgust.
"Give it everything you have, Sion." I told myself. "Everything."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"Not missing this turn this time!" I shouted!
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...
I managed a desent attitude, knowing the misery would soon be over. Up and down, along the trail I go..
"Why the hell do I do this shit?" I questioned myself...
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!
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.
Four miles can be long way...
A quarter mile from the finish, a runner I had passed miles and miles ago trotted up behind me.
You gotta be shitting me...
"Good job, man.. Way to finish strong.." I told him.
I watched him gallop ahead. I couldn't do anything about it.
I laughed to myself "The final dagger, I guess... Fitting."
Like heaven on earth, the finish line finally appeared!
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.
Guess I won the final battle because I was able to cross the finish line in one piece!!
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| No caption needed. Pic: Kristi McCauley |
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...
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.
Because pain just hurts.
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!
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...
Another stellar event produced by the one and only Aravaipa Running, it's always an honor to represent you! Thanks for delicious fuel, Honey Stinger and Team BeThin!
I think it's clear, I have no choice but to return to that starting line in Mayer next year. It's still unfinished.
Maybe third times a charm...
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