Spot the Rocks at the 2018 Black Canyon 100k

February 19, 2018

Spot the Rocks at the 2018 Black Canyon 100k

Spot the hydration saloon

Ryan looked at me and asked, "You going for sub-14?" It was a gut check moment where I realized I needed to commit to myself on what my goals were for the day. So, I said "Yeah Baby!"

So said local ultrarunning hero and Cocinino Cowboy, Jim Walmsley. After looking at the course profile that has half the climbing that my other courses normally have, I proclaimed a sub-14 hour goal for myself. Of course, it’s different when Walmsley claims it the start of the Western States 100 mile, versus when I do at the start of the Black Canyon 100k, or when Roy Moore says it going into an Alabama shopping mall, but I felt like I at least had a reasonable shot. But at the end of the day, it’s just Roy Moore who had succeeded in going sub-14.

Traveling is always an eye opening experience, especially I think for those of us spending sunrise to sunset outside. A lesson for you ultrarunners out there. My wife happily agreed that I could sign up for this race since it meant a trip for two of us to see friends in Arizona and visit Sedona. Best part for her, I would run screwed (sans crew) so "all" she would have to do is drop me off (at 4:45 AM) and come back and get me some 16 hours later. Win-win.

This was a hard race to understand from the outside. While the climbing is modest, data showed that most people finished Black Canyon in nearly the same time they took at Quicksilver, Sean O’Brien or Miwok 100k, something I have a reference to. I heard about rocks on the course but I didn’t really comprehend the gravity of the situation. In this case, traveling is a toe opening experience, too. The course is harder than expected, but isn't that always true?

Pre-heat oven before baking

Prerace prep is at the Meyer school gymnasium. Indoors, sheltered from the 39F winds outside, we fed ourselves on pastries, fruit and coffee while we waited an hour for the race to start. With not much else to do, I stood in line for the men's room figuring something might transpire in the next 20 minutes. By the time I got to the front, it was like parachuting out of a C-140. When the stall doors opened, you had to perform with 40 guys watching, listening and smelling your next move. Talk about performance anxiety. After successfully delivering my troops to the drop zone, I tried to spot a few friends and celebrities but I'm pretty sure they were wisely avoiding shaking my hands post-BM.

Spot the DNF ultrarunner

The first three hours of the run went really well. Cool temps, some fire road softened by recent rains, and modest descent got me through the first 18 miles in just over three hours. The feeling of satisfaction I had was similar to what I had (and still do) when I farted in my brother's room. I didn’t need worry about starting too fast as the next two sections would drastically slow my pace. My modus operandi is for my wheels to fall off at mile 20 and I did not disappoint.

What happens to horses in Arizona if you leave them in the sun too long

Spot the cacti!

From there on, I probably kicked, tripped or rolled on a rock 20 times per mile. Fortunately I was able to avoid actually falling as that could mean a fall onto a sharp rock or flying face or butt first into a cactus. Trust me, you don’t want to go anything first, second, third or fourth (or forth) into a cactus. Maybe pacer first. Of course I didn’t have a pacer as my running partner was “busy” “vacationing” with his “wife” in “Mexico”. I’ll have to speak to him about setting priorities. He could have been helpful if we got stopped by INS, explaining what this dirty, dark skinned, incoherent idiot is doing in the canyons.

Spot the canyons

"Oh look, rocks!" - Mindee Dern

My incoherence extended to text messages when I attempted to relay to my wife how hard the last part was on my groin.

That lady party, miles 24 to 31, was indeed rough. A lot of us ran out or ran low on water. It was reportedly 79 F that day and we had essentially zero shade. A few miles later, I made the deliberate decision to walk the remaining distance to Black Canyon City at mile 37 to cool off. I walked in with a 60k runner, Sean, as we happily sang The Lion Sleeps Tonight. Wimoweh!

Next came the river crossings. Surprise! And then the climbs. We had 3 or 4 sustained climbs. These weren’t steep, so one could “easily” sustain a 17 min/mile walking pace, but long. Running seemed beyond palpable, between the heat, exhaustion, heat exhaustion, and the seemingly impossible challenge of running on loose rocks. The downhills weren’t much better. I could rarely get into a proper running gait. Imagine running through a dog park trying to find safe footing. Now do it in the dark.

By nightfall, spotting the distant lights of approaching aid stations, I recalled my military training - in darkness, objects may be nearer than they appear. After 50 miles, no aid station was close enough though, not the big party at mile 51, nor the mile 59 aid station where all our GPS watches said we should have arrived at 2 miles earlier. Constantly kicking, tripping and rolling on rocks was bad enough, but when I went to lean on a utility pole in the middle of the canyon, I realized that I wasn’t thinking straight. Or maybe it was when I realized it was a cactus. I’m such a prick.

Nothing beats a Sonoran sunset

The final 3.5 mile section finally gave us some runnable fire road, though that didn’t last long. By the time my watch said we should have just 1.5 miles left, I had zero confidence in my watch nor the posted distances. I didn’t study the course map beforehand. As I said, I screwed myself. Anyway, my impatient and worried wife kept texting me during the last mile but got tired of the jibberish she was getting in response. She came out to run in my last quarter mile. No sub-14 for me. Not even a sub-15. But even after a day of screwing myself, I know who's going to get me home.

The colors only lasted a few minutes

The next day was fantastic, with a healthy breakfast followed by an early celebration of National Wine Day, followed by tacos and beer. Reflecting on the previous day, I was disappointed that I never did spot Michael Li on the course; with ~430 runners, I guess even he couldn’t spot a long haired Asian semi-centurion running with a turtle on his shoulder. Congrats to Alisdair, whom I met on the bus, ran his first ultra in two years and finished in 11:30! Why do I even try? The Aravaipa organization was professional as one might expect. The course was so well marked, even *I* didn’t get lost. Well staffed and stocked aid stations, with soup at the right moments and even hamburgers, could have sustained me for 100 miles. Speaking of which, now that I’ve got my Western States qualifier done for the year, what should I do next?