I had never been to Tucson.
I didn't know anyone that lived in Tucson.
Tucson.
I had just left everything and everyone that I did know, behind.
Unknowingly at the time, that would be the last of my life in the "Land of Enchantment".
At 27 years of age, I had nothing but a bag of dirty laundry to my name.
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 my way.
And I had burned the candle at both ends.
I was out of options.
So with a last-ditch effort, my folks got me out of there.
I would land in Tucson and begin from scratch.
Somewhere along the way, I began to run.
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.
Running in the mountains has become my religion.
It is my life.
As I began laying out my race schedule for 2016, I had an overwhelming desire wash over me.
I wanted to go back to New Mexico to run.
I wanted redemption. I wanted to show what I had become. I wanted to show who I had become.
I was no longer that lost soul drifting through life in a daze.
"I'm comin' home again."
I picked my race and it was set. I was going back to New Mexico to race Cedro Peak, a 45 miler in the Manzano Mountains outside of Albuquerque.
It just made sense.
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.
I wanted so bad to win this race!
I daydreamed of running through the finish line in first place, everyone cheering. My parents and Kristi would scream "Congratulations, you did it!!"
We would all hug each other and smile.
I would then take the first place award and hoist it above my head like the Lombardi Trophy.
"I owe this one to you!" I would shout while pointing at my folks...
Yep, I was excited about this race.
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.
But this time, nothing.
I put in a ton of miles, a ton of vert and I felt fit and healthy as ever.
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.
A quick shakeout run along ditch banks of childhood memories brought me to tears.
I gazed into the mountains in the distance and thought about my life.
I was ready.
Just like that, race day arrived. Kristi and I got our stuff together and made our way to the Manzano Mountains in Tijeras, NM.
Along the drive, I realized just how little I know about the beautiful mountains that surrounded me as a child.
"Where were you when I lived here?" I thought to myself.
With less than an hour to spare, we made it to the Oak Flat Campgrounds. My folks would be arriving a few hours later.
The course was basically an out and back, with a lollipop loop.
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 2012 by Jason Loutitt.
Time quickly dwindled down. I said good bye to Kristi and made my way to the starting line.
"This is what you worked so hard for." I reminded myself.
"Leave it all out there."
As the race director went over the directions, I joked around a bit with one of the other runners.
"I always get lost" he said.
"Well, follow me.." I responded "I've never done this race.."
Just a couple ultra runners shooting the shit before the gun goes off!
The familiar countdown ensued and it was GO TIME!!
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 Mike Wagner, an ultra runner from Colorado that had recently moved to Albuquerque.
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.
I was already enjoying the rocky single track that was descending quickly. The thin air was making my breathing a bit labored.
"Oh hell, this elevation is gonna take a toll.." I realized.
A little over a mile into the race, we reached an intersection of trails with no markings.
"What the hell?" I said as I was stopped in my tracks "There are no markings anywhere..."
Mike looked around in every direction.
"I think we missed a turn." He mumbled.
Soon enough three other runners came galloping up to the intersection.
"There's no markings here, we missed a turn." I said.
Everything I had worked for.. Was it all going up in flames? I know this feeling. It's familiar.. McFailure with Korey Konga all over again!
A mile into a goal race and I am lost!
"How could this be happening?!" I said to myself.
One of the other runners quickly pulled out a map of the course. Brilliant!
Yup, we missed a turn!
Before I knew it, Mike took off!
I quickly sprinted off as well, clinging to his heels.
"Hopefully the turn we missed is close.." I sadly thought.
But it wasn't. It may have only been half a mile or so, but it felt like an eternity.
"There it is!" Mike shouted as he jumped back on course.
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...
"Oh my God, I have to pass every runner now.."
This was not what I had envisioned!
Mike was on a mission and my breathing was becoming labored. We began passing runner after runner.
I looked down at my Garmin; 06:15 pace.
This is not good!
I finally backed off and let Mike disappear into the distance.
"Have some discipline for God sakes.."
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.
I relaxed as much as I could and soon enough, I saw Mike in the distance.
I quickly caught up. I could sense that he had gone too hard. His breathing was heavy, his stride looked forced.
I sat back and let him lead the way. I gathered myself and thought about finishing the race.
"Winning isn't everything, just relax and have a good race.." I told myself.
I started to feel better and realized I was ready to pull in front of Mike.
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.
I startled them as I came flying up.
"Is there anyone ahead of you guys?" I asked, hoping this was the last of them.
"Just a few others.." one of them said..
After a second of frustration, I realized that the "few others" was us.
"That's us!" I shouted! "We got off course in the very beginning. That is us!"
The great news was enough to give me a burst of adrenaline and I pulled ahead of the two runners and Mike.
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.
Fortunately, the better part of those five miles were downhill. Or unfortunately...
I was lost in thought as I came rumbling down a steep section and BAM!
I crashed to the ground, tearing my right knee open. Blood everywhere. Good times! Get up and go!
As the terrain flattened out, so did my energy level.
I tried my best to focus on the beautiful mountain views and single track. But I was gassed.
"This is not good.." I mumbled.
Had I ruined my race making up the lost time?
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.
"I got lost. I guess it just wasn't my day.." I would explain.
They'll understand. They're my parents, they have to understand!
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.
I wasted little time, simply stuffing a peanut butter & jelly in my mouth and continuing on.
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.
A few volunteers were there checking off bib numbers. The wind howled, screaming words of encouragement.. Or the opposite.
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.
"What's your bib number?" One of them shouted through the screaming wind.
"252!" I shouted back as I took off back down the jeep road.
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.
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.
We exchanged quick grunts as we passed one another.
Before I had a chance to process my lead, another runner appeared. Third place was not far back either.
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.
"If you can maintain a consistent pace, you'll be fine.." I encouraged myself.
The next stretch was a long downhill along the jeep road. I gazed in all directions, soaking up the scenery. The views were magnificent.
"This is your homeland, this is your race."
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.
Needless to say, this shit is second nature!
I reached the Powerline aid station just over 17 miles into the race and made my visit brief. I sucked down a Honey Stinger gel and began the loop.
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.
"You wouldn't believe it, I had to come back from dead last to win.." I would explain "It was insane!"
I played out various scenes in my mind and before I knew it... BAM!!
I came crashing to the ground!
I laid there in disbelief.
"I thought this was second nature.."
I pried myself up off the ground and quickly carried on.
"The hell is wrong with you, Sion!" I barked at myself!
I plowed ahead!
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.
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.
"Don't let those demons in.." I thought to myself... But were they coming?
Eventually the trail led me to a wide open meadow. All the beauty one could imagine, for everyone to see. Except for me.
My attitude began to plummet.
"Why?" I often ask myself during a race. I run on, in search of the answer.
It felt like I had been running downhill for the majority of the day, which meant only one thing..
A lot a uphill awaits.
Just over a marathon into the race, I came galloping into Coyote aid station.
"First one in!" someone shouted.
"Yeah.. Ah, thanks.." I tried finding words.
I was feeling nauseous and zapped. Weather had been pretty nice all morning, but the sun was beginning to get more aggressive.
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!
"Stupid orange!!!"
I hung a left back onto a trail and looked ahead.
"Dammit."
There, in all it's glory, was the steep climb back up Powerline.
"Perfect!"
I began the slow trudge up the mountain.
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.
It didn't take long for that climb to stick a dagger in my spleen.
I collapsed to the side of the trail and whined.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me.." I moaned.
Feelings of a race slipping away flooded my mind. I got up and began power hiking.
Power hike.
Curse the world.
Collapse to the ground.
Drag myself up.
Power hike.
Repeat.
Visions of the course record wiped away.
Somewhere toward the top, a young man offered me a popsicle. Was I hallucinating?
I gladly accepted.
I only managed to get my hands sticky before chucking the popsicle to the ground in frustration!
"Stupid popsicle!!!"
I finally came stumbling back to the top of Powerline. I staggered to the aid station.
"Still in first place! Good job!" One of the volunteers shouted.
"That climb sucked.." I grumbled.
"You're killing it man, had like a 20 minute lead on second place earlier, probably bigger by now...."
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.
"Ah.. that's great news.." I said. "If I can just hold this pace, I'll be fine.."
Hold this pace.. Yeah, right. Who was I kidding, I was already hearing the sirens..
"Thanks dudes..." I mumbled under my breath as I staggered ahead.
I reconnected to the jeep road I had enjoyed running down earlier and began the fun trip back up.
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.
My stomach twisted. The demons entered and began wringing out my insides like a soiled washcloth. I let them in with open arms.
They were now in control!!
"Why do I even do this shit??" I cried!
I tried to throw up but only dry heaved.
"So much for sub 7.."
I staggered on..
Eventually I hit a small stretch of downhill that brought me back to the Cedro Peak aid station, over 32 miles into the race.
I got refueled and nibbled on some snacks.
At this point, a bunch of the 45K runners were in the middle of their race.
I clutched my stomach and moaned.
"You have any Tums..?" I whined to one of the volunteers.
"No.. We don't. Sorry." He replied.
Before I even had a chance to respond, one of the 45K runners came to my rescue.
"I do. Here ya go.." He said as he poured a couple Tums into the palm of my hand.
You're the real MVP!!
I took off and jumped back onto the final stretch to the finish!
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.
Running was good. Attitude was acceptable... For awhile.
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.
"One foot in front of the other.." I moaned.
It was a long stretch to the final aid station, but I felt like I made good time. That was a ROUGH section!
40 miles in and 5 to go!
I took off in pursuit of the Lombardi Trophy!!
I enjoyed a very brief stretch of downhill before finding myself gasping for breath on more of the steep stuff.
"You really underestimated this course!!" I yelled aloud.
I topped out and gasped for breath.
I looked at my Garmin; 06:55 and change..
"It's not gonna happen.."
I began running, the trees cleared out and I saw people ahead..
"Is that the finish?!" I shouted out.
"Yep, right there." Someone replied.
I sprinted ahead!!
I shot through the finish line in first place with my folks and Kristi cheering me on!!
Dreams come true!!
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.
I finished the race in 6:56:53.
After being medically cleared, I got to give my parents and Kristi a group hug. I did it.
We did it.
Sharing that moment with my parents was priceless. It's been a long road back home, but I wouldn't change a thing.
As always, It's an honor to represent the Aravaipa Racing Team! The support provided by Honey Stinger, Squirrels Nut Butter and BeThin Tea is greatly appreciated.
Until next time...
As I began laying out my race schedule for 2016, I had an overwhelming desire wash over me.
I wanted to go back to New Mexico to run.
I wanted redemption. I wanted to show what I had become. I wanted to show who I had become.
I was no longer that lost soul drifting through life in a daze.
"I'm comin' home again."
I picked my race and it was set. I was going back to New Mexico to race Cedro Peak, a 45 miler in the Manzano Mountains outside of Albuquerque.
It just made sense.
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.
I wanted so bad to win this race!
I daydreamed of running through the finish line in first place, everyone cheering. My parents and Kristi would scream "Congratulations, you did it!!"
We would all hug each other and smile.
I would then take the first place award and hoist it above my head like the Lombardi Trophy.
"I owe this one to you!" I would shout while pointing at my folks...
Yep, I was excited about this race.
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.
But this time, nothing.
I put in a ton of miles, a ton of vert and I felt fit and healthy as ever.
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.
A quick shakeout run along ditch banks of childhood memories brought me to tears.
I gazed into the mountains in the distance and thought about my life.
I was ready.
Just like that, race day arrived. Kristi and I got our stuff together and made our way to the Manzano Mountains in Tijeras, NM.
Along the drive, I realized just how little I know about the beautiful mountains that surrounded me as a child.
"Where were you when I lived here?" I thought to myself.
With less than an hour to spare, we made it to the Oak Flat Campgrounds. My folks would be arriving a few hours later.
The course was basically an out and back, with a lollipop loop.
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 2012 by Jason Loutitt.
Time quickly dwindled down. I said good bye to Kristi and made my way to the starting line.
"This is what you worked so hard for." I reminded myself.
"Leave it all out there."
As the race director went over the directions, I joked around a bit with one of the other runners.
"I always get lost" he said.
"Well, follow me.." I responded "I've never done this race.."
Just a couple ultra runners shooting the shit before the gun goes off!
The familiar countdown ensued and it was GO TIME!!
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 Mike Wagner, an ultra runner from Colorado that had recently moved to Albuquerque.
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.
I was already enjoying the rocky single track that was descending quickly. The thin air was making my breathing a bit labored.
"Oh hell, this elevation is gonna take a toll.." I realized.
A little over a mile into the race, we reached an intersection of trails with no markings.
"What the hell?" I said as I was stopped in my tracks "There are no markings anywhere..."
Mike looked around in every direction.
"I think we missed a turn." He mumbled.
Soon enough three other runners came galloping up to the intersection.
"There's no markings here, we missed a turn." I said.
Everything I had worked for.. Was it all going up in flames? I know this feeling. It's familiar.. McFailure with Korey Konga all over again!
A mile into a goal race and I am lost!
"How could this be happening?!" I said to myself.
One of the other runners quickly pulled out a map of the course. Brilliant!
Yup, we missed a turn!
Before I knew it, Mike took off!
I quickly sprinted off as well, clinging to his heels.
"Hopefully the turn we missed is close.." I sadly thought.
But it wasn't. It may have only been half a mile or so, but it felt like an eternity.
"There it is!" Mike shouted as he jumped back on course.
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...
"Oh my God, I have to pass every runner now.."
This was not what I had envisioned!
Mike was on a mission and my breathing was becoming labored. We began passing runner after runner.
I looked down at my Garmin; 06:15 pace.
This is not good!
I finally backed off and let Mike disappear into the distance.
"Have some discipline for God sakes.."
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.
I relaxed as much as I could and soon enough, I saw Mike in the distance.
I quickly caught up. I could sense that he had gone too hard. His breathing was heavy, his stride looked forced.
I sat back and let him lead the way. I gathered myself and thought about finishing the race.
"Winning isn't everything, just relax and have a good race.." I told myself.
I started to feel better and realized I was ready to pull in front of Mike.
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.
I startled them as I came flying up.
"Is there anyone ahead of you guys?" I asked, hoping this was the last of them.
"Just a few others.." one of them said..
After a second of frustration, I realized that the "few others" was us.
"That's us!" I shouted! "We got off course in the very beginning. That is us!"
The great news was enough to give me a burst of adrenaline and I pulled ahead of the two runners and Mike.
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.
Fortunately, the better part of those five miles were downhill. Or unfortunately...
I was lost in thought as I came rumbling down a steep section and BAM!
I crashed to the ground, tearing my right knee open. Blood everywhere. Good times! Get up and go!
As the terrain flattened out, so did my energy level.
I tried my best to focus on the beautiful mountain views and single track. But I was gassed.
"This is not good.." I mumbled.
Had I ruined my race making up the lost time?
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.
"I got lost. I guess it just wasn't my day.." I would explain.
They'll understand. They're my parents, they have to understand!
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.
I wasted little time, simply stuffing a peanut butter & jelly in my mouth and continuing on.
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.
A few volunteers were there checking off bib numbers. The wind howled, screaming words of encouragement.. Or the opposite.
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.
"What's your bib number?" One of them shouted through the screaming wind.
"252!" I shouted back as I took off back down the jeep road.
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.
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.
We exchanged quick grunts as we passed one another.
Before I had a chance to process my lead, another runner appeared. Third place was not far back either.
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.
"If you can maintain a consistent pace, you'll be fine.." I encouraged myself.
The next stretch was a long downhill along the jeep road. I gazed in all directions, soaking up the scenery. The views were magnificent.
"This is your homeland, this is your race."
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.
Needless to say, this shit is second nature!
I reached the Powerline aid station just over 17 miles into the race and made my visit brief. I sucked down a Honey Stinger gel and began the loop.
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.
"You wouldn't believe it, I had to come back from dead last to win.." I would explain "It was insane!"
I played out various scenes in my mind and before I knew it... BAM!!
I came crashing to the ground!
I laid there in disbelief.
"I thought this was second nature.."
I pried myself up off the ground and quickly carried on.
"The hell is wrong with you, Sion!" I barked at myself!
I plowed ahead!
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.
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.
"Don't let those demons in.." I thought to myself... But were they coming?
Eventually the trail led me to a wide open meadow. All the beauty one could imagine, for everyone to see. Except for me.
My attitude began to plummet.
"Why?" I often ask myself during a race. I run on, in search of the answer.
It felt like I had been running downhill for the majority of the day, which meant only one thing..
A lot a uphill awaits.
Just over a marathon into the race, I came galloping into Coyote aid station.
"First one in!" someone shouted.
"Yeah.. Ah, thanks.." I tried finding words.
I was feeling nauseous and zapped. Weather had been pretty nice all morning, but the sun was beginning to get more aggressive.
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!
"Stupid orange!!!"
I hung a left back onto a trail and looked ahead.
"Dammit."
There, in all it's glory, was the steep climb back up Powerline.
"Perfect!"
I began the slow trudge up the mountain.
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.
It didn't take long for that climb to stick a dagger in my spleen.
I collapsed to the side of the trail and whined.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me.." I moaned.
Feelings of a race slipping away flooded my mind. I got up and began power hiking.
Power hike.
Curse the world.
Collapse to the ground.
Drag myself up.
Power hike.
Repeat.
Visions of the course record wiped away.
Somewhere toward the top, a young man offered me a popsicle. Was I hallucinating?
I gladly accepted.
I only managed to get my hands sticky before chucking the popsicle to the ground in frustration!
"Stupid popsicle!!!"
I finally came stumbling back to the top of Powerline. I staggered to the aid station.
"Still in first place! Good job!" One of the volunteers shouted.
"That climb sucked.." I grumbled.
"You're killing it man, had like a 20 minute lead on second place earlier, probably bigger by now...."
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.
"Ah.. that's great news.." I said. "If I can just hold this pace, I'll be fine.."
Hold this pace.. Yeah, right. Who was I kidding, I was already hearing the sirens..
"Thanks dudes..." I mumbled under my breath as I staggered ahead.
I reconnected to the jeep road I had enjoyed running down earlier and began the fun trip back up.
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.
My stomach twisted. The demons entered and began wringing out my insides like a soiled washcloth. I let them in with open arms.
They were now in control!!
"Why do I even do this shit??" I cried!
I tried to throw up but only dry heaved.
"So much for sub 7.."
I staggered on..
Eventually I hit a small stretch of downhill that brought me back to the Cedro Peak aid station, over 32 miles into the race.
I got refueled and nibbled on some snacks.
At this point, a bunch of the 45K runners were in the middle of their race.
I clutched my stomach and moaned.
"You have any Tums..?" I whined to one of the volunteers.
"No.. We don't. Sorry." He replied.
Before I even had a chance to respond, one of the 45K runners came to my rescue.
"I do. Here ya go.." He said as he poured a couple Tums into the palm of my hand.
You're the real MVP!!
I took off and jumped back onto the final stretch to the finish!
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.
Running was good. Attitude was acceptable... For awhile.
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.
"One foot in front of the other.." I moaned.
It was a long stretch to the final aid station, but I felt like I made good time. That was a ROUGH section!
40 miles in and 5 to go!
I took off in pursuit of the Lombardi Trophy!!
I enjoyed a very brief stretch of downhill before finding myself gasping for breath on more of the steep stuff.
"You really underestimated this course!!" I yelled aloud.
I topped out and gasped for breath.
I looked at my Garmin; 06:55 and change..
"It's not gonna happen.."
I began running, the trees cleared out and I saw people ahead..
"Is that the finish?!" I shouted out.
"Yep, right there." Someone replied.
I sprinted ahead!!
I shot through the finish line in first place with my folks and Kristi cheering me on!!
Dreams come true!!
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.
I finished the race in 6:56:53.
After being medically cleared, I got to give my parents and Kristi a group hug. I did it.
We did it.
Sharing that moment with my parents was priceless. It's been a long road back home, but I wouldn't change a thing.
As always, It's an honor to represent the Aravaipa Racing Team! The support provided by Honey Stinger, Squirrels Nut Butter and BeThin Tea is greatly appreciated.
Until next time...
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| That's a wrap! Pic: Kristi McCauley |
Great story, so glad we were there together. Love you!
ReplyDeleteGlad you and Dad were there for that, Mom. It will always be one of my best memories. I love you!
ReplyDelete