The Black Canyon 100K.
You tantalize me with your screaming downhills and beautiful sunrise. You tempt me with your buttery trails sprayed golden brown in the morning dew. Your cool air caresses my face and tingles my nose. Your magnificent views make me crave more. My heart flutters.
I get lost in your presence...
As soon as I think we are meant for each other, you turn your back on me. Your swift downhills turn into rocky climbs. Your sunrise becomes just a raging ball of fire, searing each step. The morning dew all but dries up and wilts everything alive. Your amazing views nothing but an endless trail of torture.
And that cool air...just a distant memory of the ‘good ole days...’
The Black Canyon 100K is a cruel bitch.
And I have been abused by her in both 2015 & 2016.
Twice. Two times. Dos veces.
Like they say “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me”.
I promised myself that I was done with that abusive monster following the race in 2016. For the second year in a row, I fell under her trance, sucked in by her beauty. Around 40 miles into our dance, she turned on me. Again.
In virtually the very same spot as the year prior, I was dealt with cramps that would kill a small child. And these weren’t your normal run-of-the-mill cramps either. Oh no, no, no. Like Elaine trying to dance in Seinfeld, these cramps were like a “full body dry heave.”
It was demoralizing having those races crumble apart in consecutive years. I’m too good for this shit, I’ve got a self esteem for God sakes. And a reputation to protect, I might add.
I wanted nothing to do with that two-faced diva...
I was done!
I stuck to my word and skipped our date in 2017. Turns out that was a good decision, as she was in a particularly foul mood that day.
But as 2018 rolled around, I again became fixated on her. It’s like the common story of the abused returning to the abuser. She was holding something that I wanted and just maybe I had a shot at winning her over...
Chances were very slim, but I wanted to take my shot at the coveted “Golden Ticket”. The top two female and male finishers win entry into the historic Western States 100. My buddy, Charlie Ware, had just secured his ticket with a 2nd place finish at the Sean O’Brian 100K. His second Golden Ticket achieved in three years. Bad ass pirate, that guy.
I had a lot of doubt, it was a deep field and Black Canyon hates my life.
“Maybe I’ll just be conservative outta the gate, and finish the race strong...” I told Kristi, “I probably have zero chance of keeping up with those guys anyway.”
“That’s bull, you can do it...” She wasn’t having it. “Go for it, if you blow up, you blow up.”
I really wanted to join Charlie and in order for that to be a possibility, I had to take a risk.
“What the hell, I’m going to do it!” I decided.
What’s life without a little risk? Grow a pair for heaven sakes!
So two weeks out, I made us reservations.
I was going on another rendezvous with that cruel bitch...
Black Canyon is a point to point race that begins in Spring Valley and ends in New River some 62 miles later (it’s actually closer to 63 but who’s counting). Although it’s a net downhill, it doesn’t feel that way. It still boasts around 7,000 feet of gain, the majority of that being in latter stages of the race. The whole ‘net downhill’ thing is very misleading...
She’s so malevolent.
So Kristi and I headed out to our favorite place to stay just minutes away from that start of the race. The place is our secret and I choose not to disclose any more information than that. Don’t ask. After sleeping incredibly well we made our way to the start of the race at Mayer High School. Sleeping well before a race is unusual for me, so things were already off to a marvelous start.
Also in the “marvelous” category, today’s weather was looking to be pretty nice with a high in the mid 70s.
After slapping on my bib and doing a warm up to get the blood flowing, I lined up at the start. I stood up front with some of the best ultra runners in America flanking each side of me. I thought about the adventure ahead...
“You belong up front, you can hang with these dudes...” I told myself. “Don’t sell yourself short!”
After a quick countdown, around 400 looney ultra runners took off in pursuit of New River!
“Let’s go!” I shouted!
We rounded the track, hit the pavement and headed through town towards the Black Canyon trail. I stayed with the lead pack, which was about 10 to 12 of us.
The pack included, Tim Frericks, Zach Bitter and Eric Senseman. Three of the top ultra runners around.
“You belong up here...” I reminded myself.
Around two and a half miles into the race, we hung a left onto BC trail.
The trail doesn’t waste much time before turning into single track. I kept the leaders in sight for the next few miles before finally settling in near the tail-end of top 10.
Like I spoke about before, she quickly began her seduction.
The sunrise began, painting the desert with brilliant golden rays. The air was crisp and cool and had that dewy fragrance you only find early in the morning.
I watched Frericks and Senseman pull away from everyone and soon they disappeared.
I had been running around 6:30 pace, so I can’t imagine what they were throwing down. I was going hard, but that was suicide pace.
I felt really good and was in and out of Antelope Mesa aid station around 7 miles into the race. I left on the heels of Zach Bitter.
The two of us took advantage of the screaming downhill single track, strategically placed there early in the race. We were flying down the switchbacks, I was lost in her spell!
Crazy thing is, as fast as we were running, some dude just breezed by us. Looked like he was on a casual run, just floating along the trail.
“Ah c’mon, this guy is gonna blow up...” I mumbled under my breath.
Zach and I spent a couple miles together chopping it up and I must say that as good a runner Zach is, he is equally that of a person. Class act. Like the old saying goes “humility is a virtue”.
Soon Zach pulled away and I found myself trotting along the trail with another runner.
“I gotta settle down..” he said to me.
“Same.” I replied.
For the next several miles I got to know Neal Collick.
Normally you’d find Neal running around the shores of Lake Superior and word has it, it’s been pretty damn cold out that way. Today the weather was supposed to be pretty nice, but even 75 degrees in the sun combined with running for hours can wear on you. Especially if you aren’t used to the heat.
Both of us seemed to back off a bit and for the first time, I was feeling a little worked.
“Damn, did you already over do it?” I began to question my strategy. “10 miles into the race and I’m feeling zapped. Not good...”
All races have rough patches, but this was really early.
Both Neal and I backed off on the pace and soon a pack of other runners came galloping up behind us.
The group included, Adam Doe, Andy Pearson and Benjamin Stern.
I’ve shared some miles with Andy in at least one other race, he’s definitely a talented runner.
All of us rolled into Bumble Bee aid station about 19 miles in.
I grabbed some more Honey Stingers from my drop bag, refilled my water bottle, stuffed a peanut butter and jelly in my mouth and took off.
It was getting warmer.
As soon as I hit the trail, I saw Andy up ahead. I pushed on the gas and caught up.
I continued drafting off him and sometime after Gloria Mine aid, another runner caught up to us. This guy was on fire!
I quickly pulled off the trail and let him pass.
“By all means man, go crush it...” I said.
“It’s not a running race, it’s a eating race! He shouted as he blew by me.
I eventually met him, super nice guy by the name of Fernando De Samaniego Steta... Big name and an even bigger personality.
I watched him catch up with Andy and they began to pull further away from me.
“Let ‘em beat each other up, I’ll pick up the carnage...” I told myself. “I’ll pass ‘em both by the end of the race...”
The next stretch included passing Eric Senseman and some other dude around 25 miles in, having a girl fly by me and feeling my energy level plummet like the stock market in ‘87.
I felt absolutely blitzed as I rolled into Soap Creek aid at about the 50K mark on the tail of Andy and Fernando with Benjamin right behind.
And that girl...
She. Was. Gone.
I refueled and stuffed another stale PB&J down my throat.
I looked over at Andy... “Chicked.”
We both laughed under our breath, with a hint of desperation peppered in.
Andy took off with Fernando right behind him. I fumbled around with a cup of ginger ale before chucking it in the trash and heading back out.
Almost immediately I caught up with Fernando who was staggering along. I passed by him and wished him luck.
That was the last I saw of ole Fernando...
Andy had disappeared but I heard the pitter-patter of steps coming up on my rear. It was Benjamin, chugging along right behind me.
I was really beginning to feel overheated and nauseous. Kristi was awaiting me at the next aid station in Black Canyon City some 6 miles away. I had my pack there, I knew I would need more water on me as the race progressed. The problem was, I was sucking down the water I had from my single handheld at an alarming rate.
“Ah, fuck. I’m gonna run out of water. How can I make such a rookie mistake? This is a disaster...”
The old behavior was back in full force, she began her abusive ways.
I made my best effort to conserve, but once you get to that point, there’s no hope. I was keeping Benjamin at bay, always a few steps ahead of him.
“Screw it, I can just drop at Black Canyon City...” I moaned. “I over did it early. I knew it!”
My demeanor took a nose dive, as did my water supply.
“Idiot.”
Soon the two of us began a descent into a river bed. There was a small amount of water flowing and I saw Jamil on the other side filming us.
I stumbled across the water, dizzy and dazed.
“You think this water is ok to drink?” I asked Jamil.
“I’m just a fly on the wall” was his response. Well played, Jamil.
“You want a sip of mine?” Benjamin offered. What a guy!
“Nah, screw it. I’ll drink from here...” I said while bending down to fill my bottle with the brown river water.
What’s life without a little risk?
Benjamin took off ahead of me and I trailed along. We began a climb up multiple switchbacks.
“This water tastes pretty good, actually...” I quipped.
“It does?” He replied surprisingly.
“No man, it’s awful and has a really weird after taste...”
And man, was it BAD.
After zigzagging up a million switchbacks, we topped out and the view of Black Canyon City aid was within sight!
We began the descent and I quickly pulled ahead of Benjamin.
“I gotta get some water man!”
I hammered the drop and soon made my way into the aid station a little over 37 miles into the race.
Kristi had my pack and everything ready for me. I grabbed a gallon of water and began gulping it down like a barbarian.
“How’s it going babe?” She asked.
“Ah not bad, just had to drink river water is all. What wrong with a little giardia?!” I yelped.
I found that funnier than everyone else...
As shitty as I felt, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I chomped down my 17th peanut butter and jelly of the day, gave Kristi a hug and stumbled on my way.
I wasn’t going to fold that easily!
Kristi let me know that I was now in 6th place, the golden ticket was slipping away and so was my energy.
The next stretch ahead is seared into my mind. It’s over two miles of climbing and it’s the stretch that has destroyed me TWO TIMES IN A ROW!
And wouldn’t you know, as I began the climb that sneaky monster began working her magic.
I could sense my legs tighten up, the first sign of cramping.
“Oh God, not the friggin cramps again...” I whined.
I don’t care what anyone else says about how nice it was out, it was hot as balls as I staggered up the trail! Soon I saw Andy up ahead of me. I wasn’t moving very fast and he disappeared into the hills ahead.
“This trail just loves to beat you up!” I cried. “Black Canyon, you bitch.”
She was beginning to wring out my insides as well. I chomped down some tums and dry heaved.
Nausea was moving in and making itself a new home in my stomach.
“This trail and me just don’t work together, every single time...” My attitude hit the basement.
I was like a disgruntled ultra runner with Tourette’s spewing out complaints uncontrollably as I ran angry up the trail. Lost in a trance of negativity and...
BAM!
I went tumbling headfirst down the trail.
There I was, laying in the fetal position on the rocky trail. Bloody and battered.
I moaned and rolled onto my back, staring up, into oblivion.
“What did you expect?” I muttered as I peeled myself off the ground and began running.
As deathly horrible as I was feeling, I was able to keep grinding away. Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Andy.
It felt like eternity had passed by the time I finished that climb.
I stood for a moment catching my breath before continuing on.
I felt like complete garbage. Everything hurt. My attitude was horrendous. My insides were playing their own personal game of twister. The worst. But I kept grinding away and for the first time in over 20 miles I had a positive thought...
I knew I was going to finish this race and I was going to finish this race strong.
“Let’s finish strong!” I barked.
From that moment, I was running angry. She wasn’t going to ruin my day this time!
I made a brief stop to refuel at Cotton Wood Gulch aid, just over 46 miles into this monstrosity. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t ask, but I think I saw Andy leaving as I arrived.
I was beyond nauseous as I stuffed yet another peanut butter and whatever into my mouth.
I couldn’t even chew it up, it felt like cardboard. I staggered ahead and as soon as I was out of sight, I collapsed to my knees and let loose...
I’ll do you all a favor and leave out the gory details. But in the end, I continued on a few pounds lighter...
I kept running despite all of the abuse, even setting a new 50 mile PR of 7:06 before arriving at Table Mesa aid. Andy was just leaving as I arrived.
“Got em” I said under my breath.
I stumbled around at the aid station, feeling like death. I think Kristi iced me down, but can’t confirm. And to whomever was filming me, I apologize for the menacing expression I was sporting. Please don’t release that footage!!
I staggered off again, this was the homestretch.
It’s another good climb after Table Mesa. I complained to myself about the multiple gun shots I heard, the bazillion rocks on the trail, that the whole ‘net downhill’ thing is a lie. And yet, I continued on.
I felt myself get stronger during the climb out of there. Soon I saw Andy and caught up.
“Lots of climbing...” I said as I passed by.
“My entire lower body is like one huge cramp...” He moaned.
“I know the feeling. It’s happened to me in this race. Twice!”
After I passed Andy, I found new life.
I rattled off mile after mile, with only the finish line in sight.
I made a quick stop at Doe Springs, the last aid station of the race. I joked around with the volunteers and headed out for the last 5k.
Those last few were painful. I just put my head down and pushed ahead. My ultimate goal was to get that ticket, but anything under 9:30 was a tremendous improvement. That was well within striking distance.
I saw the finish ahead and hammered away!
I crossed the finish line in 5th place with a time of 9:15.
While short of the ultimate goal, I cannot help but be extremely happy. I’m heading in the right direction. I continue to learn and grow. This sport is an endless supply of humility.
And I love it.
I won this round!
Another outstanding event put on by Aravaipa Running, it’s a absolute honor to represent!
Thanks for the support, Aravaipa Running, Honey Stinger, BioSkin, Squirrels Nut Butter, rabbit and most of all, Kristi.
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| (No Caption Necessary) Howie Stern Photography |
