Cedro Peak 45; The Homecoming

Several years ago I boarded a plane en route to Tucson, Arizona.

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...

That's a wrap! Pic: Kristi McCauley 

                 
                                                                           

2016 Black Canyon 100K

2015 was a spectacular year. I joined the Aravaipa Racing Team, I finished my first 100 mile race at MOG, I summited Blackett's Ridge a hundred times and I had a bunch a solid races peppered throughout the year.

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.

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.

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... 

Looking for the answer.

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!!

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...