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...

The Monster

Several years ago I came across an image that depicted a stick figure running one hundred miles.

"This has to be a joke."  I thought to myself. "No one could actually run one hundred miles. Impossible."

But it wasn't a joke. People did run a hundred miles. And further!

While the idea of running 100 miles seemed completely insane, the seed of curiosity was planted. Through friendships and circumstance, I was eventually introduced to the Tucson Trail Runners. I would soon leave marathons and road racing behind to focus on trail running and ultra racing.

I had found my passion.

My first two 100 mile attempts were not exactly what I had envisioned.

My first stab at the fabled distance was the Javelina Jundred in 2013. Javelina was a race riddled with injury and stupidity. I dry-heaved and hobbled my way to a DNF at 100k.. My only DNF to this day. Unless you count McFailure with Korey, when we went 10 miles off course, but that's a whole other story!

I walked away completely defeated. I wanted to go register for another hundred right away! I wanted to prove that I could do it! But I was injured and broken. It took some time to get back. I would have to wait.

I managed some patience, healed up and eventually decided on the Mogollon Monster 100. An extremely challenging race that features closer to 107 miles of brutality along, atop & up and down the Mogollon Rim.

Super rocky and technical. Steep climbs. Sketchy descents. Gnarlestown.

This race was made for me.

Without getting into the unnecessary details of what happened at that race, it was eventually shut down due to a heavy storm that was smashing into the rim. Kinda the "cherry on top" of my weather cursed 2014 racing season. Old Pueblo, Zane Grey, Vertigo and MOG100 all part of the curse. A wet and wild year it was!!

I was so frustrated. Again, this time entirely out of my control, no 100 mile finish. I was tired of hearing "Yeah, Sion is a good runner, but he's yet to complete the 100 mile distance.." Whether people actually said that or not is debatable, but that's how I felt.

One thing I knew was that I enjoyed the 51 miles I got to run on the course. I was setting myself up for a good day. I wanted to go back. I wanted to see more. I wanted to finish off that beast and take home a 100 mile buckle for heaven sakes!!

I made a decision to be patient, train smart and return. Mogollon Monster 100 was going to be my goal race for 2015.

My training leading up to MOG wasn't without drama. Oh no, no, no. No siree! Drama never escapes my running adventures!

Training went about as good as I could have ever imagined. I was on a base of at least 60 miles a week with over 10k of vert for the better part of two months.

Then, one day, I had a strange pain on the inside of my left leg.

I ran my fingers along my tibia. It screamed with pain. Worlds came crashing in.

"Oh shit.." I immediately went to the worst case scenario. "It's probably a stress fracture."

A month to race day and I was limping around.

"Maybe I am just not supposed to run 100 miles.." I thought to myself. "Why...?"

I continued to run on the injury with hopes that it would just disappear! Vanish! Like magic!

Unfortunately, I am no Oz Pearlman and the pain only worsened. Shocking!

Finally, I came home from a run and the pain was worse than ever. I crumbled up on the couch full of despair. All of a sudden I became cold. I was shivering. I grabbed a blanket and curled up. I couldn't eat a thing. I knew what was happening. Of course!

I was getting sick. Sick and injured. Beautiful.

This sickness wasn't just your ordinary kinda illness. It was vicious. It was ruthless. It knocked me down for days. MOG was no longer on my mind as I just tried to survive. I was living in a cave within my mind. My body felt like it was withering away. I felt like my fitness began abandoning me.

The illness forced me from running for several days.

I slowly crawled out of the cave and was healthy enough to run again. Running felt harder than ever! I felt heavy. I jogged three miles and collapsed to the ground defeated. It felt like I had just run a marathon! The nagging pain in my left leg remained.

"It's a stress fracture. I know it.." I whined to Kristi.

"It's probably just in your head. You always go through this before big races." Kristi reminded me.

"What does she know..?" I thought.

I decided to have an x-ray done on my leg. As it turned out, there was no fracture. Nothing. In fact, I found out that my bones look really healthy. Just thought you may have wanted to know that about me. Healthy bones! 

"No stress fracture!" I was ecstatic.

Kristi was right again. Dammit!

I spent the remaining days leading up to the race getting my mind right and my body back to form. A couple Blackett's, a couple tempo runs, a couple prayers and it was time to taper.

I was actually feeling pretty good. Rested. Ready. I was going to slay this beast!!

Kristi and I arrived in Payson and checked into our hotel. Weather was looking to be perfect. Cool in the morning, warm during the day, cool at night. No random torrential rainstorm or blizzard on the radar.

After picking up my race bib and having dinner in Pine, we called it a night.

Fun fact about me; I am an insomniac. I have my good days and I have my bad days. It's something I have dealt with my entire life. It sucks, but whatever! Could be worse. 

I laid in bed, overwhelmed with excitement for the festivities. My mind wouldn't shut down. I watched precious hours tick by. I replayed the race in my head over and over. I envisioned myself running through the finish line. I would throw my hands in the air and scream "I did it!!"

"You have got to be kidding me.." I moaned. "I need to sleep..."

Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep. Probably two thirty, three o'clock. The moment I got comfortable, I was shaken awake by the sound of my alarm.

I felt sick to my stomach and lethargic.

"Am I really capable of running a hundred miles today..?" I wondered.

Kristi got up and urged me along. I sucked down a putrid cup of hotel coffee and got on my running gear. I looked over my drop bags in a daze.

"I'll feel better once I start running.." I explained to Kristi, only trying to convince myself.

After force feeding myself some oatmeal, we set off to Pine!

I met up with my Tucson bro's, Michael Duer and Tim Stackhous at the start. We all gathered giddy with excitement. Nervous with anticipation.

A wicked rendition of the National Anthem was played giving me goosebumps and sending adrenaline through my veins. This is what I live for!

Pre-race jitters ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

"Let's finish this thing off!" I barked at Mike and Tim. I hugged Kristi goodbye and went to the front of the pack.

The moment before a race begins is perfect. Everyone is amped up! It's the opportunity to showcase your training. It's when all of the blood, sweat and tears you've spent preparing are put to use. Use your head and the body can do amazing things!

We all counted down together and the adventure was underway!!

Keepin' it classy! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

Last year I played it super conservative and started out in the middle of the pack. It was smart racing and I eventually pulled my way into the top 10 by the time the race was called. But I knew I was never going to have a shot at the top guys.

I wanted a shot this year.

I settled in somewhere just outside of the top 10 as we made our first climb up Pine Canyon Trail. I watched several over ambitious runners bolt up the mountain at speeds completely unreasonable.

"I will be seeing most of you shortly.." I told myself. "Stay composed."

The views were spectacular right from the beginning. Sunlight clipped the tops of trees as far as the eyes could see. I chatted with a few other runners before finding my self alone, cruising up and down the single track.

"I have a feeling I am going to be alone quite a bit today.." I thought to myself.

I had no pacer lined up and was fine with that. This was my adventure to complete and I was ready to have a lot of conversations with myself. I was prepared to go to battle with the demons inside my head!

The air was cool with pockets of warmth peppered in. I could tell it was going to heat up and I was fully prepared for the hot temps. I trained through the Summer in Tucson for God sakes, bring it on!

I eventually caught up with another runner and we cruised together for a bit. His name was Jason Halladay, an ultra runner from Los Alamos, NM. Both of us being from New Mexico, we talked about the beautiful state that it is. Jason was also here last year when the race was shut down. So we both shared the feeling of redemption rattling in our minds.

I learned that Jason is no spring chicken when it comes to ultra running and has completed several difficult 100's, including Hardrock twice. We enjoyed the overwhelming beauty that was surrounding us. The air was crisp and water was flowing. The scent of pine needles tickled my nose. I love running in the mountains!!

Around eight miles into the race we began the first climb up the rim.

"Hey, we only have to do this three more times!" I shouted at Jason as we power hiked our way up the steep switchbacks.

I began to pull away from Jason as I continued up the rim. My legs felt strong. I felt energized. All those Blackett's I did over the Summer were caked inside of me. I settled in and became relaxed.

"This is going to be so amazing.." I mumbled to myself.

I finally topped out and gasped for breath. I stopped for a moment to enjoy the picturesque views.  Spectacular scenery for miles upon miles. Beauty so astounding that it would be senseless to put into words.

After absorbing the scenery for a minute, I continued on. I soon reached the Pine Canyon aid station and refueled for the first time. I ate a few pieces of fruit, slammed a couple cups of Gatorade and took off. I got a boost on the way out as a few people sent me encouragement.

"Thanks for being here!!" I shouted

The next five mile stretch was very runnable. I settled into a nice rhythm and began passing runners. First, one runner. Then a group of four or five. I could tell that the course had already begun to take a toll on several of the lead runners. I arrived at Dickenson Flat AS with a few other runners in tow.

"How far ahead are the leaders?" I asked Deron Ruse, who seems to be at every aid station I pass through.

"About 20 minutes in front.." He informed me.

"20 minutes?!" I seemed shocked. "That's blowup pace."

I left the AS and began the steep descent off the rim down Turkey Springs Trail, along with Trent Peelle, a solid ultra runner from Phoenix.

We chatted about the beauty of the course thus far and how much racing we had left. Trent told me that we were the fourth and fifth place runners. I felt relatively comfortable with where I was at and how I felt.

I hammered the next stretch, hoping to create a gap between myself and Trent. I was blown away when several miles later, Trent was still right on my heels.

"Why are you trying to race right now?" I asked myself. "Chill!"

I soon connected with the "all too familiar" Highline Trail. Yay! Rocks, ruts, up, down. This looks like that. That looks like this. I know this all too well! With Trent nipping at my heels, the two of us trotted into Geronimo AS.

Stoked to see Kristi! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

I was so excited to see Kristi there! I didn't expect to see her until Washington Park at 27 miles, so it was an incredible boost.

"I didn't think I would see you again." Trent said to me.

"Yeah, well I am trying to keep it cool, ya know.. It's early!" I quipped.

I am as competitive as it gets, and that convo lit a fuse!!

I said goodbye to Kristi and quickly headed up the switchbacks out of Geronimo.

I saw a couple other runners make their way into the aid station as I climbed up the initial switchbacks. Trent was right behind me out of the aid station. I decided to step on the gas a little and soon I was all alone once again.

Twenty miles in and I felt optimistic about my race. It was beginning to warm up. I really settled into a groove on the Highline. I was sucking water down at an alarming rate. Even decided to top off my pack at a spring along the way. Clean, crisp water! Best decision ever.

I soon caught up with another runner. I watched him stagger up a steep climb ahead of me. He looked worked.

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

"Ahh, getting a bit hot now. Trying to take it easy." He responded.

I got to meet Brad Botsch, a youngster from Phoenix who's famous for going up and down Camelback 12 times in 12 hours. Sounds like torture!!

I tried encouraging Brad a bit before I pulled away. I was feeling good and sitting in third place as I made my way into Washington Park.

Washington Park for the first time! ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

Kristi helped me refuel and stuffed some more Honey Stingers in my pack.

Jeremy Daugherty let me know that the second place runner had left about seven minutes ago and looked shaky. I appreciated the update and quickly bolted out of there.

The next couple miles were a STEEP climb back up to the top of the rim. As I made my way up, I noticed the 2nd place runner ahead in the distance. He was moving slowly. The sun was beating down on both of us and he looked toasted. I quickly caught up.

I shared just a few words with Pompillo Romero before I pulled away. I finally finished off the burly climb and staggered toward the rim road.

"Leader is eleven minutes ahead!" someone shouted at me.

I headed up the rim road sitting in 2nd place.

The next four and a half miles along the rim road were taxing. I tried to work up a steady pace but was constantly forced to a walk. I looked back and saw no one behind me. I even walked to the edge of the rim and snapped a few pictures.

Damn, that's a view!

It seemed like it took an eternity to make it to Houston Brother Trail. Eventually I made it, leaving that God-forsaken dirt road behind.

"Finally.." I said aloud.

I trotted into the Houston Brother AS feeling drained. I could feel my demeanor begin to plummet as I nibbled on various food items.

"How are you feeling?" Deron asked (remember what I said earlier).

"That road section sucks!" I cried.

I wasted little time and staggered ahead. I ran down a steep hill and hiked up a steep hill. Up and down. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I was dizzy.

"I thought this was the runnable stuff.." I complained,

I became weak and frustrated. I collapsed to the ground and leaned against a tree.

"Tired.." I moaned.

As I leaned up against that tree, a feeling of deja vu washed over me.

"Is this the very same tree that I leaned up against last year, drenched in hopelessness?" I thought to myself.

I had an eerily similar moment last year in the very same area.

It may or may not have been the very same tree, but it may have been. And even if it wasn't the very same tree, it was close. And it was funny. I chuckled for a second and got myself back up and moving.

Just like last year too, I came out of that rough patch blazing!

It's amazing how you can get so low and unmotivated and moments later, you are reborn! That's what ultra running is all about. How are you going to handle the adversity? The longer the race, the more adversity you will face.

"This is only scratching the surface of what I am going to face." I reminded myself. "Keep moving forward."

The moment I picked myself up off that tree, my attitude shifted. Running on top of the rim is some of the most beautiful trail running I've ever experienced. I settled into a nice pace as I got lost in the stunning scenery surrounding me.

Open meadows, green pastures, weeping trees and blooming flowers spread across the land. The air was infused with nectar, I could almost taste it. I took deep breaths and sucked in the moment as I cruised along forgiving soft single track. Before I knew it I arrived at Pinchot Cabin AS, just over 40 miles into the race.

"Hey, you're only about 5 minuted behind the leader!" One of the volunteers shouted.

"Right on.." I said while stuffing a peanut butter and jelly square in my mouth.

I made quick use of my time there before heading out. I thanked the awesome volunteers and jumped onto Fred Haught Trail.

I tried not to let chasing the leader dictate how I was racing. I had been restrained the entire day and it led me to this point. But looking back on it, I think I unknowingly picked up my pace a bit.

After a few steep climbs, Fred Haught Trail became really runnable. I got lost in the beautiful single track that crossed back and forth over a glistening stream of water. Easy climbs were followed by swift descents. I felt very locked in. Then out of the blue, a runner ahead of me yanked me back into reality.

"Oh, there he is.." I thought.

I could see he was still moving well, yet I continued to gain ground. I tried to run as quiet as possible. I crept within a few hundred feet..

"Hey, I was wondering when someone was going to catch up." He shouted back at me. "Where you from?"

"Tucson." I replied. "You?"

"Denver."

We chatted briefly about the difficulty of the course, the heat that was wearing on us and the long night we had to look forward to.

I would get to know Jared Scott quite well over the next several hours.

I pulled ahead of Jared and finished the climb that brought us back up to the edge of the rim.

"First place runner!" One of the communication guys yelled out.

"I like the sound of that.." I said to myself as I dropped down the steep section that lead back into Washington Park.

I did my best to drop off the cliff-like trail without falling face forward to my death. I could feel gravity doing a number on my knees. I hopped back and forth like a billy goat drunk on beer cans. I finally stumbled ahead to the runnable downhill.

I put the hammer down! Like some kind of rookie, I did a full sprint ahead. Wouldn't you know, Jared was right beside me!

"The hell?" I was baffled. "I didn't think I would see him THIS soon!"

So Jared and I redlined it into Washington Park together, sharing the lead for first.

Jared leading us into WS mid-race. ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

Kristi and Kristi (Duer's wife) were there to greet me. I had the "Kristi Tandem" helping me with everything I needed. I sat down on a cooler and slammed cup after cup of ice cold Gatorade (I'm not sponsored by Gatorade but I am open to negotiations). Jeremy is not only a great Race Director, dude can throw down a mean grilled cheese!

Nom. Nom. Nom. ~Pic by Kriti McCauley

I was thoroughly impressed with how my stomach was holding up thus far. I had eaten "real" food at every aid station. I hadn't lost my appetite and wasn't having to force anything down. 

"This is a good sign.."

Jared got up and left the aid station. I watched him disappear onto the Highline Trail. I sat for a few more minutes wondering if I would ever see him again. I didn't want to go back onto the Highline Trail. I knew that the next stretch of trail was going to be a grind.

"Gotta bail.." I said lifting myself off that glorious cooler.

I never do a race without forgetting something, this time it was my headlamp. Idiot! Fortunately, Jay Danek had arranged to have one ready for me, as darkness was looming. Thanks again, Jay, I fully intend on returning it to you!

I gave Kristi a long hug good bye.

"Guess I'll see you tomorrow.." I said in a sigh.

Saying those words put everything into perspective. I was heading back out there, into the mountains, for the remainder of the night. It's easy to train for a race and convince yourself that you are fully prepared for whatever you are going to face. Truth is, it wasn't until that very moment that all of it honestly settled in. 

"Oh yeah, I guess so.." Kristi replied. She seemed nervous for me, but also confident that the next time I would see her would be when I was crossing the finish line. "Good luck, babe. See you at the finish!

I headed back out sporting a new shirt and a headlamp strapped to my noggin. Fifty some miles into this exploit and fifty some miles to go! 

While my attitude was still somewhat enjoyable, the trail conditions were not. Tall grass and a trail that lead to nowhere began the pain staking task of beating my attitude to the ground.

"What the hell!" I cried. "This is ridiculous!" 

I must've used the line "This is ridiculous" at least a hundred times out there. 

As I was weaving my way through the brush, suddenly a herd of cattle appeared right in front of me. All the cows glared at me with an expression that read; What the fuck are you doing?

And to be honest with you, I didn't have an answer. And for that one moment, I wished I was a cow.

The mileage from Washington Park to Hells Gate was advertised as around five miles. But over two hours later I was still crawling through the cobwebs.

"Where the hell is Hells Gate!" I screamed!

The sun was setting and the blood moon was rising. The rim was painted a grapefruit pastel. I eventually came staggering up to Hells Gate aid station. To my surprise, Jared was just leaving.

"Hey man.... This is ridiculous!" I added. 

Jared left as I settled in. I chomped on a hard boiled egg courtesy of Lisa Ann Kravets and watched the clouds light up. Clouds getting set on fire while I patronized Hells Gate.. I can't make this stuff up! 

^Hells Gate^ (I snapped this just as the sun was setting)

A crisp breeze slapped me in the face and I realized it was time to get back to work. 

I set off in pursuit of the fabled climb up Myrtle Trail.

The sun sank beneath the horizon leaving smoldering lava in its wake. I turned my headlamp on and plowed ahead. Once again, I caught back up with Jared. 

We cruised together from that point all the way up Myrtle Trail to the top of the rim. That climb put a dagger in my stomach. I could hardly talk as we power hiked straight up that montrasity.

  

The tall grass continued to make navigation more difficult. I began coughing repeatedly. The glare from my headlamp bounced off the blades of grass back into my eyes making me dizzy. Jared continued to talk to me but it became more and more difficult to respond. I resorted to more of a grunt than a response. 

Andrew Pielage was on the crest of the rim snapping photographs as the two of us finally topped out.

We made it!  ~Andrew Pielage Photography

The demons were looming... ~Andrew Pielage Photography 

"Great job, guys!" He shouted at us.

"That shit sucked.." I whimpered.

As soon as we reached some runnable trail, Jared took off and I followed behind. We cruised a quarter mile or so, reconnecting to the rim road. The moment Jared hit the road, he was gone. I, on the other hand, collapsed to the side of the road. I watched Jared's headlamp slowly disappear into the darkness.

I began to gag. I forced down a gel and dry-heaved. I was breathing heavily and became cloaked in self doubt and despair. I began to allow the demons in. 

"Over 40 miles to go.." I mumbled under my breath. "I don't think I can do it."

Despite my wretched state, I dragged myself off the ground and mustered up a steady jog. I began constructing my plan to drop. 

"I have to make it to Washington Park." I decided. "If I'm going to drop, it will be in a convenient place for God sakes.." 

Looking back on it, it's pretty comical to think that I was planning out where I was going to drop and it was over 20 miles away. 

The next few miles along the road were the most runnable stretch of the entire race. I took advantage of it, settling into a respectable pace until I arrived at Buck Springs AS. The temperature had dropped and I threw on some warm clothes that I had in my drop bag.

I sat next to a camp fire with a bunch of strangers that were willing to get me anything I needed. I ate some chicken noodle soup and imagined that I didn't have to go back out there. I questioned why I put myself here. I looked at the volunteers enjoying the moment. I wished I was a volunteer. I missed Kristi. I wanted to go home.

After a good break, I got up and headed off. I had a race to drop, dammit!

I got back onto some single track and headed into the dark forest. The moon was like a lightbulb hovering right above me. Watching me. I didn't want to run anymore. I began daydreaming of laying in bed. Of going sleep.

I stopped running, took my pack off and laid down on the ground. I closed my eyes and thought about my life. My past. Where I have been. I thought about those grim years before I changed the way I lived. The sadness, the wreckage. The good. The bad. I got back up and staggered ahead. 

"I am going to get to Pinchot Cabin aid station and I am going to take a nap.." I decided. 

I repeated the process of laying on the ground several more times over the next few miles. I was so tired. It felt like I was never going to make it to the damn aid station! Then all of a sudden, I recognized my surroundings.

"Yes, I can take a nap now..." I thought. 

I came stumbling up to Pinchot Cabin AS about 72 miles into the race. This was now the furthest I had ever run. 

"What can I get you?" one of the volunteers asked.

"A cot." I quipped.

She offered a cot to me! I looked at it and for reasons I can't explain, I turned it down.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll just take a seat."

I sat there sipping on soup broth. It was now certified freezing out. A few runners that had dropped were sitting next to a camp fire. The mood was depressing. They explained that they were stuck there, that their cars were in Pine, that their key's were in Washington Park, that they couldn't get a ride out. And to top it off, one of them suspected that he broke his foot.

"Wow, that sounds complicated." I sadly responded. 

All of a sudden, running didn't seem half bad.

"I hope you guys get everything straightened out!" I shouted as I jogged off. And just like that, I was back in business! 

I jumped back onto Houston Brothers Trail with new vigor. I replaced those haunting thoughts of quitting with glorious visions of crossing the finish line. 

I figured I had lost about an hour from Buck Springs to Pinchot Cabin. I still felt like I had a good lead on the 3rd place runner, but my chance of winning was slipping away. Still, I was extremely excited to get back to racing. Go to hell, demons!

I fell into a good rhythm and made it back to Houston Brothers AS. I was a bit delirious as I chomped on the  'soup du jour'.  

"How you feeling?" 

I looked up and standing there was none other than Deron Ruse. I know! I told you. Him and his wife, Melissa, were both there encouraging me. 

"Well, 80 miles of this shit... I'm exhausted." I whined.

I was actually in a pretty good place, all things considered. I was informed that Jared had about an hour lead. I put chasing him aside a long time ago. I was purely focused on getting to Washington Park. 

I pulled myself together and hit the rim road running. I had Kid Cudi's 'The Pursuit of Happiness' playing on repeat in my head... Which was cool because it's a legit jam. "I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold. Hey, I'll be fine once I get it. I'll be good..." 

I maintained a decent pace and eventually made it back to that STEEP descent that dropped into Washington Park. It took a lot longer to get down this time around. Nothing like dropping off a cliff-like section of trail with 85 miles on your legs.. It's something everyone must experience at least once! 

Finally, I came trotting into the aid station at Washington Park. 

Jay Danek and Tony Russ helped get me refueled. I slurped down some ramen noodles and complained about the course.

"This shit is so hard.." I cried. "It's cool and all, but I'll NEVER do it again!

While I was dreading getting back on the Highline Trail, I was now seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. I knew this was going to be the absolute hardest 20 miles of my life, but dropping was no longer an option. 

I was going to grind this beast out and take home that buckle! 

Without wasting too much time, I was back on the move. The next nine miles on the Highline were impossibly long. I began hallucinating. I was hearing movement all around me. I heard animals cry out, mimicking the sound of people cheering. 

"Is that the aid station?" I would ask myself, over and over.

The moon was so bright, like a spotlight overhead. I was constantly looking up, expecting to see something or someone in front of me. 

I kept going and going, but it felt like I was always in the same place, looking at the same thing. Suddenly, a bat that was the size of a pterodactyl came flying straight at me! Its blood-red eyes pierced directly in my direction as it came swooping down in attack mode.

"Oh my God!" I shrieked as I hit the ground. "What the hell?!!!"

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I watched it flap away into the darkness. I pulled myself up off the ground and gathered my senses.

"That was nuts.." 

I got back to work. I expected to roll into Geronimo aid station, but it never seemed to happen. I ran and ran and ran. Nothing. No aid station.

"What's going on here?" I wondered. "I've been running for hours!"

The stretch from Washington Park to Geronimo is about nine miles. I was positive and that I had run further than that. Positive. 

I began to panic. 

"Am I off course?" I sadly thought. "Oh no. This can't be happening!" 

I didn't know what to do. Backtracking seemed ridiculous, so with my veins pumping adrenaline I didn't know existed, I sprinted ahead. I flew up and down some switchbacks while I played out the horror of being lost in my head.

"So then, over 90 miles into the race, I got lost!" I would have to explain.

I was sick with worry when all of sudden, like the gates of heaven themselves, the aid station appeared! 

"YES!!!!" I screamed with joy! 

I spent a few minutes there. I choked down a cold slice of pizza and chatted with the two volunteers braving the nighttime conditions. 

"One more monster climb and I'm home free!" I exclaimed as set off. 

I had heard a lot about the final climb up the rim. The "kiss of death" I was told. I was excited to have survived up to this point and was actually moving well. I wanted the kiss of death. It's what I trained for. It's why I love this sport. I love the pain. I love the suffering. 

I love to run!

Rays of light began to emerge from the ridge line. Morning dew now coated the shrubbery as the sun began to rise. This was the moment that I longed for. The moment I had envisioned. To run through the morning, through the day, through the night. To watch the sunrise. This is what I dreamed about for years. And let me tell you, it was beautiful.

I trudged along waiting for the climb. Preparing for the last gasp. I took a left and connected to West Webber Trail. 

I began an easy climb up the rim. The morning had fully made its presence. Birds were chirping in the tree tops, warm air was taking place of the crisp night. 

"This ain't that bad..." I thought. "Kiss of death?"

Then the climb began.

When the steepness made its presence, there was no mistake about it! I began power hiking switchback after switchback. One after another. I looked to the top of the rim and it still looked so far away. I felt like I wasn't making any progress. My quads were on fire. My breathing was labored.

"Is this even necessary!" I screamed.

I collapsed to the ground and moaned.

I knew this was almost over. I could taste the finish. I got back on my feet and continued up the rim. Finally I saw some day light. I had reached the top of the rim for the fourth time!

I rambled through some sketchy trail with my eyes fixed on the course markers ahead and reached the One Hundred Mile AS. 

A couple of communication workers were there with some water. 

"Good job on making it this far!" One of them yelled.

"Thanks man! But I ain't done yet!!" I was now pumping some adrenaline, knowing it was all downhill from here.

I spent only a few short minutes there before I took off, en route to the finish!!

After a couple miles on the rim, I finally began the long, steep drop down. I was really "enjoying" all of the loose rocks when out of the blue, Jay Danek was coming my way. I was in the middle of giving myself a motivational speech at the time. I don't always talk to myself but when I do, it's when I've run over 100 miles.

Jay was making sure the course was well marked in the area. He decided to run with me after I convinced him that it was. It was a boost to have some company after running alone for so long! 

"What was with that last climb?!" I cried.

"Oh, the dick knocker." Jay quipped.

Perfect name for that monstrosity, courtesy of Justin Lutick.

Jay informed me that Jared had finished in around 25 hours. Jeremy's prediction rang true; no one would go sub-24. Jared stretched his lead to about an hour during my rough patch, but it pretty much stayed there following my resurrection. 

Jay and I finished off the last of the steep stuff and the trail became super runnable. I was invigorated and running faster than I had in very long time. 

"Finally, I'm getting my hundo!" I was ecstatic!

Suddenly, there was my local TTR'er and friend, Dallas Stevens, running up the trail toward us.  

"What up, bro!" I exclaimed. 

The three of us cruised together, eventually making to the Pine Trailhead, the very spot this epic adventure began. 

After we crossed underneath State Route 87 through a tunnel, Jay hung back to finish marking the section while Dallas and I continued on, into the town of Pine. 

It was surreal watching people driving around, just getting their day started. I had been running for the last 26 hours. Dallas and I cruised at what felt like a six minute pace.

"I can finally keep up with you!" Dallas joked.

"This is all I got! This is it!" I shrieked.

Finally I saw some people gathered up ahead.

"There it is!" Dallas yelled.

"Oh yeah!!!!!" I screamed as I began a full sprint ahead!!

Leaving it all out there! ~Andrew Pielage Photography

I put my foot on the gas pedal, slammed it to the floor and flew through the finish line!!!!!

I did it!!!!

Jeremy was there to congratulate me.

"You're a dick!" I barked at him.... It was meant as a term of endearment! 

I gave Kristi a long hug. I was in shock. I finished the 107 mile mountain race in 26:05, good for 2nd place. 

Dallas came over to congratulate me. I've known Dallas since I first got into trail running. He's been there to watch my progression as an ultra runner from the very beginning. It was so powerful to have him help me finish those final steps to the finish. It's a moment I will never forget. Thank you, Dallas!!

I also had the opportunity to talk about the race with Jared Scott. We took a moment and reflected on the epic adventure. Jared finished in 25:07, just under an hour in front of me. The guy is tough as nails and it was a pleasure getting to share some of my suffering with him. I learned a great deal out there. Congratulations on winning the Monster, Jared!!

What a moment with Jared. Priceless. ~Andrew Pielage Photography

Soaking it in with Jay Danek & Dallas Stevens ~Pic by Kristi McCauley

Trent Peelle took 3rd place, rounding out the podium. Great work, Trent! Congrats to Nadine Haluszczak on setting a new women's course record with a time of 30:49! Susan Kramer and Susan Donnelly took second and third women, respectively. Well done! 

Congratulations to everyone that took on the Monster, whether you finished or not. Just toeing the line takes guts! 

I can't say enough about the volunteers, the communication workers and everyone else that helped put this race on. I cannot begin to wrap my head around the amount of work that goes into an event of this magnitude. Thank you, everybody! Even you, Jeremy. 

I am excited about ultra racing moving forward. This race has given me new confidence in what I can accomplish with hard work and dedication. As I reflect, I am really intrigued by the 100 mile distance. I am curious to see what I am capable of on a course that's a bit easier, like Hardrock... 

Thanks for the support, Aravaipa Running, Pearl Izumi, Honey Stinger, Ultraspire and Feetures! Great companies and great products.

The biggest thank you goes to Kristi, who's always there supporting me, helping me follow my dreams. Sometimes I feel like what you go through is more challenging than the race I am participating in!! You are amazing and I love you! 

Until next time...

Stay on the pursuit of happiness!

Photo courtesy of Kristi Sager