Kyle Maynard - W0WKyle Maynard on the Echo Canyon Trail with Camelback X-T-R-E-M-E Member James Bakalar Struggle the last time you went up Camelback Mountain? Try using only your knees and elbows...How's that for perspective? Holy crap. Kyle was born with a condition that left him as he is now and pictured above. He's never allowed that to hold him back and he's gone on to write books, wrestle in high school, college, motivational speak and now...he's planning on climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro in Africa as part of Mission Kilimanjaro. (See video below). So next time you are feeling a little too tired or that you just can't do it...stop complaining. Far more people persevere with far less. Follow along with his mission at www.missionkilimanjaro.com Grandpa Jim 50k & 12 Hours of Camelbackphoto courtesy of NYT Grandpa Jim, a regular at Wednesday Morning Running Club, has been putting on fundraising events for Sunshine Acres for a few years now. Jim's. Sunshine Acres provides homes for children under a variety of circumstances and helps stabilize their lives through Christian living and a long term stable lifestyle many are lacking at a young age. They don't solicit money, they don't fundraise. Just small events like what Grandpa Jim puts on where any donations raised are used to help with the cost of bringing Sunshine Acres children to the Grand Canyon for an experience there. Here's the website for Sunshine Acres: http://sunshineacres.org/wordpress/?page_id=32 So on February 10th Grandpa Jim brings the return of "12 Hours of Camelback" and event I didn't make it to until the last hour last year but this coming February I hope to train to complete the entire 12 hours. The event involves 12 consecutive hours of hiking up the Echo Canyon Trail to the summit of Camelback Mountain, back down and repeat as many times within that time frame. It's about 1300 feet of climbing with each trip. Rough on the legs but a major challenge. The following weekend on February 18th is the Grandpa Jim 50K. This won't be easy either with 8,200 feet of climbing planned for entrants. Starting at the base of Camelback Mountain on the cholla side you go up and over the mountain, run the streets to the entrance of the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, loop around and up Piestewa (Squaw) Peak and then take Trail #100 over to North Mountain where you climb both Shaw and North Mountain finishing on that side of the park. Quite a trip but all in what I train in every single day so my interest is higher knowing it's going to Sunshine Acres but also that it's all home turf. Looking forward to it. Check out Grandpa Jim's website to enter. Again, it's free but donations are accepted to help get the kids up to the Grand Canyon, something they will never forget. https://sites.google.com/site/grandpajims50k/ Jaguar's in Arizona!!!Amazing. Seriously...this is pretty amazing in that "Holy Shit that's a Jaguar" type of way. Can you imagine hearing that roar while running with a friend on a secluded trail on a high ridge somewhere? Wow. Here's the story link below. Fascinating and great news to see this species back on the territory after Macho B died/was killed two years ago. http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/nationnow/2011/11/jaguar-spotted-southern-arizona-macho-b.html
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My friend Jay Danek asked me to write about my experience at the Javalina Jundred last weekend. I've been moving, buying a house, and generally just very busy but finally got to it yesterday and it's posted on his website if you are interested.
www.mcdowellmountainman.com Javalina Jundred countdown continues...We are down to less than a week before the Javalina Jundred starts. This year there are almost 400 runners are taking their costumes out to the Pemberton trail looking for their first, second or who knows how many finishers. Last year I spent the entire race out there volunteering, crewing, and pacing and it was one of my favorite ultrarunning experiences I had last year. I loved being out there at the aid station helping people, cheering people on, meeting new people. The energy at JJ is different than other ultras, less serious but still with that driven attitude as runners are still put to task trying to run 100 miles. But when you have people dressed as Spiderman, Jester, and Naked Woman it's hard to take it all too seriously. Charlie Nickell did a great write up in Runner's World after last years race. http://trailheads.runnersworld.com/2010/10/javelina-jundred.html This year I will be at Jackass Junction Aid Station again for the first 8 hours of the race then marking the course for the night time and finally pacing one of Arizona's hopefuls, Michael Carson, in his first bid for a 100 mile finish. I've met so many more people in the ultra community that are running or volunteering at this race it's almost like a giant family reunion. From the Tucson Trail Runners Dallas Stevens, Michael Duer and Renee Stevens to the WMRC runners like Jay, Deron, Grandpa Jim among so many others. I can't wait to see Michael Miller out there shirtless (that sounds weird...) on his last lap, yet again cheering other runners on despite how he may be feeling. Javalina is a very unique ultra, the costumes, the trail, the RD's Jamil & Nick Coury, it's just something you can't find anywhere else. So while it is a "loop course" that may turn off some of the mountain runners, it's not easy, it's not flat and it IS beautiful. Fountain Hills has some of the best desert views in the area, it's a great place to see the Arizona desert and sets the bar extremely high for any ultra with it's organization, design and how much damn fun it is. I'm excited and I'm not even racing it! Dragon's &If any Dragon's show up I know who to call. We're Facebook friends. If you are interested Jay Danek asked me to put together who I thought would be the Top 5 Winners for both the Men's field and Women's field. Picking ultra winner's is tough as it's not like you have Baseball Reference or some large data bank to reference. Running is filled with dark horses, people that have been training their ass's off and you've never heard of them. It's part of the beauty of it so if someone was left off the list, please don't get offended, it's just for fun and hopefully sparks some conversation. Here's the link: http://www.mcdowellmountainman.com/ Elizabeth Howard gets my humor. Let's hope there are no dragons. I don't think the Coury's liability insurance for the race covers dragon attacks. http://www.lizahoward.com/2011/11/dragons/ Cyborg RunningI have a point to this. But first, Google "Cyborg" and take a look at the f'd up world out there (look at the images). Holy shitballs. What the hell is that??? Whoa. I just have to take a step back for a minute...
The point is I have since decided after Cascade Crest to run the Mogollon Monster 100 course in December, self supported, in winter. It's a challenge that I'm looking forward to in both to see the course as I'm expecting others to see it but also for the sake of running an extremely tough course and moving forward with this project once and for all. With the pace the National Forest staff works I expect the permits to be approved sometime around 2019. Just kidding, hopefully this month but it's quite a process and not one steeped in examples of a lot of efficiency. I'm pretty sure I'm bottom of the pile for them. Luckily I'm extremely persistent and it WILL happen. Until then I'm training hard to survive that contest in self will with no buckle, no fans, no "grand finale" to the run. I know already it's going to be one of the toughest challenges yet. I'm ready for it. www.mogollonmonster100.com In between then I've signed on to pace my friend Michael Carson at the JJ100. Mike's wicked fast, like 7:30 50 mile time at Leona Divide. It's a little out of my realm but I know I can keep up with him for 15-30 miles (when he's been running for 60 miles...) My fear has been not being able to keep up with him so I'm been actively trying to hammer out some fast runs on the trails and last night I put in such a great run I was left sprinting down the mountain, at dark, full speed wondering if somehow my Mom lied to me and she conceived me with a night on the town with Chuck Norris (sorry Dad...). There's no other way to really explain how I was running so fast without being the lifeblood of a Legend like Norris, up every hill full speed as if there was no incline at all with no fatigue and did so for over 2 hours. I felt incredible, like my feet were barely touching the ground, smooth, fast, even steps up and down and in every which way. For those two brief hours I felt like a Cyborg. A machine. One of those "fast guys." Whether or not I could maintain it for a full 50K i'm not sure but I'm not sure I'm ready to say I couldn't have last night. It was one of those runs that wipes out the last ten disappointing runs and instills that sense of confidence for all the future ones. I dare Michael to try and drop me out there. I'm so excited to help him push harder on the course, help him through some rough spots, help him stay on target and just encourage him along the way. The multiple facets of running never seem to be confined to just running down the road. The more I run, the more I engage in the ultra community I realize that the physical aspects of running are really just a small part of it all. The mental aspect takes hold of so much more, and the person to person interaction holds a lot more meaning than expected, so much that in the end I find myself forgetting about physical pain and only thinking about the personal relationships I made out on the trail. Running is something I am very passionate about but helping someone reach their goal is something that cannot be compared with anything. Last year pacing my friend Matt, closing out the last full lap, watching Matt dig so deep, push so hard with so much passion and then finish, inside his goal, was really incredible. You can't help but respect that drive, that passion and to be surrounded by it with SO many like minded people all concentrated in a 15 mile loop, is an incredible experience I wish more people would expose themselves to. I'm excited to be a small part in Michael's experience and everyone else on the trail. If you are running JJ100 let me know and I'll be sure to cheer you on! Either way, I'll be the guy cheering you on even if I don't know you... ..Most likely hopped up on Mountain Dew. A LOT of it. Tom Thumb 50KThat pretty much sums up my experience as a runner. Crash & Burn. Otherwise known as the "bonk." I've mastered the bonk. I could run a clinic on bonking. I've bonked on purpose. I've bonked trying to avoid it. I'm just plain good at crashing & burning. No better example than the Run Toms Thumb 50k in the McDowell Mountains of Scottsdale. Being an area I do a fair amount of my running and training I thought it would be interesting to be in an "race atmosphere" on trails I knew so well. "Race Atmosphere" quickly turned into five people. Not five people plus me. Five people. So off we went up the Pemberton Trail, jogging along the bearded runner John who was jumping into his first ultra.. He picked an ultra with 5,200 feet of climbing for his first one. I like this guy immediately. Unfortunately I would barely see him again as I passed him as we hit the turnoff for Dixie Mine Trail and he would stay behind me until the finish, as would everyone else. It was a lonely 28 miles after this. I made it all the way up Bell Pass, down Bell Pass, up Tom's Thumb and down East End feeling pretty solid and well on pace to break Paul Bonnett's course record of 5:34. I was feeling great and at mile 19 I had 124 minutes to finish the last 12 miles, just one climb back up East End from 128th street, the downhill to Prospector Trail and then the long slog back to Pemberton, albeit a mostly downhill one. Enter the Darkness...Climbing I can do. I can do it exhausted. I can do it fresh. Doesn't matter, I'll keep going up. The downhill of East End however was a brutal, motivation crushing downhill where not only did my perverbail "wheels fall off" but they then went bouncing down the cliff, and burst into flames. I was toast. Done. Exhausted. Just like that I was staring at an incline to Prospector like it was the last hundred yards to Camp Four on Everest. Prospecting for PembertonThe heat was on. 85+ degrees, 24 miles and over four hours in my head was baking. I was completely exposed and I couldn't cool down. I doused my head, arms and legs in the ice water refill at the 19 mile aid station. Thank Jesus Melissa suggested ice in my bladder or they'd have been helicoptering me out. How would that be for irony, getting evacuated out in Phoenix when it was not 114 but 85. I'd never step foot on a trail again out of sheer shame. With the course record still in tact I hammered some water, cooled off and headed down Prospector, trying my best to push the pace, open up the legs and hope for the best. It worked for about 30 seconds where I felt amazing, ran the hills, powered the downs and was picking up the pace considerably. I was probably doing 7 minute miles but had I been wearing a Garmin I'm sure it was really more like 9 or 10's but it's more about the mental thought than the actual pace. It didn't last long though and before long I was walking the hills, walking the flats and cursing the downhills. I'd worn myself out, burned my legs, ran myself out of this race. I was done. I'm Ripped.I reached the water station with 6.7 miles remaining and realized I had to run the last 7 ish miles at 8 minute miles to break Paul's course record. I gave up. Who care's about this stupid record. My mind wandered between disgust, disdain, and feelings of utter failure. I felt like I was Anton and Roes had just passed me at Western States. I was in the lead all day and now when it mattered most I lost it.
Pushing on to the last 3.7 miles of Pemberton I did the mentally taxing pacing method of running 3 minutes, walking a few, running to that bush, walking to that cactus. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And through the course hope that 3 minutes turns into 6 which turns into a solid 15 minutes of running. It was getting hot and I was only interested in finishing. So I did, finally in a solid finish running the last 1.5 miles and the last part from the road crossing to the finish. I could see the tents up ahead, imagined the fan fare, the cheering, the cold drinks, food, and sprinted through the last few rolling hills, into the Pemberton parking lot, along the chalk lined "finisher's chute" and crossed the finish line in 5:55. Nobody even so much as looked in my direction. People went about their business at the tents not related to our race, kept talking, kept milling about. Weren't they curious why the heck this salt covered, sweaty mess of a guy was sprinting for no apparent reason? Apparently not. I made it back before everyone else did, considerably so, by over an hour. There were not any other "fast" runners though like the Michael Millers, Jay Danek's, Michael Carson's that would torch that course and the course record but I'm still claiming it as my first ultra win. I ran harder and longer than I have in any other ultra with more climbing and overall elevation gain. I simply got beat up with all the hills, probably should have walked a few more of them and done more to keep the heat from getting to me so much. It was a fun event though, great course, and hopefully next year being later in the season it attracts more runners than it did this time. It deserves to be more than a 5 person race. Race Director Donovan Sarka does a great job putting it on, puts a lot of effort and it should be a staple race on everyone's race calendar. www.runtomthumb.com Hopefully next year. By then I should have my doctorate in Bonking. And THIS...is how it all started...I found this email I sent back in October 2009, two years ago, after I ran my very first race, the South Mountain 20K. A 12 mile road run at the base of South Mountain in Phoenix. Pretty. Dang. Funny. The EmailFrom: Jeremy Dougherty
Sent: Wednesday, October 21, 2009 5:08 PM To: Subject: South Mountain 20K Funny story for you… I ran the South Mountain 20k this past Sunday. It was my first race of any real kind in years. I did a Splash N’ Dash last fall where I nearly drowed on the 1,000 meter swim but other than that no races since the 2 milers in the PT tests. So heading out into this race was a bit of a new thing for me. About 150 people ran the 20K heading down the mountain and then to the 6.2 mile marker and then the turnaround back UP the mountain to the finish. About 800 feet in elevation gain overall which isn’t horrible but certainly adds to the challenge. The 90 degree heat was a little much as well and in the latter miles I found myself walking through the water areas and twice just to let my heart catch up to my breathing and stand in the shade and cool down. I seriously underestimated my bodies water needs and drank way too much prior to the race leaving myself having to urinate an entire bathtub of urine for the entire second half of the race. Having running as a virtual rookie I didn’t think it would be ok to run off and go in the desert. So I held it. Acute renal failure came into my mind a few times as I was pushing my splits the last two miles and trying my best to keep the 60 year old men and 25 year old women from passing me in the home stretch. I stretched it out the final mile into sub seven minute miles until the .5 mile mark where I turned it up as I could see the people lining the streets cheering people on. I chugged my last bit of dehydrated energy faster and faster knowing my heart was about to explode from overheating but I kept on passing one slug after another. A 30+ year old slender woman stands before me and I target her as my next victim. Saliva foams at my mouth and I can feel my vision getting blurry as I come into the final turn before the finish. Pumping my arms high and knees to my chest I see my watch reading 4:21 min/mile. I see my girlfriend standing at the corner, fans and racers yelling, “that’s the way to finish” as I plow around the corner. I glance over at the time clock reading 1:49:09 as I cross the line. I slow it down and come to a footstool. My vision is darted with dark spots, my body jarred with fatigue. I was unable to lift my foot to the stool for the volunteer to remove the time chip so he helped me out. Looking down at him I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, it’s you Tim! What the hell are you doing here?! That’s awesome you are here. It’s been a long time.” As I stumble to switch feet to start my walk to my girlfriend. I look back as I walk away and tell them man, “Hey, I’ll come talk to you later Tim, we’ll catch up real fast.” I go over to Jen, rip my shirt off and stumble to my right, then my left as I struggle to maintain my balance. My body is off kilter and I can’t figure out why. My heart is still racing and I know I need some food and rumble my way to the fruit stand and bite into the greatest apple in the history of existence. Minutes later of knawing on the apple until I’m chewing on it’s seeds I regain my equilibrium, my body cools off and my mind clears. I walk back over to see my standing and talk to Tim. Tim my buddy from the Army who so randomly happens to be volunteering at the first race of mine in forever. Walking over to Tim I come to the stark realization that the man that cut my time chip was not Tim. He was not Tim at all. He was some random guy I’ve never met. Awkward silence commences as I realize I was briefly delirious from the final kick into the finish. “Tim” being the good volunteer and running veteran laughs it off and I walk away with a good amount of embarrassment still flushed within my face. Walking to the finished results I find that I finished at 52nd overall out of 154. Not good by any means and worse yet when the winner was 27 minutes ahead of me and 22 years older than me. Still an event that went from absolutely miserable to “I love running” to mistaking strangers for friends. I can’t wait for the next one. Weavers Needle and the Superstition Wilderness The Superstition Wilderness is an incredible place. It's as wild and as rugged as anything you will ever find. Anywhere. The trails closest to the city are worn a few miles from each parking lot and then quickly become over grown, faint, rocky, and at times, flat out dangerous. You can't see the prickly pear under the creosote bush or cedar branches, the cholla drives deep into your thighs as you try to sneak past the agave daggers and full grown men yell out whimpering cries as they try to pull out each spike driven into their flesh. It's heaven. In that insane kind of way like, "Look how deep this gash is!!" Yet despite this, despite enduring this over and over again, these brutal stretches of beatdown that the Superstitions provide free of cost, I keep coming back. I started in the Superstitions when I first moved here hiking the Siphon Draw trail straight up the mountain to the Flatiron, the imposing spire of rock that juts out of the mountain range, overlooking all of the glory that is Apache Junction. It's a steep, rugged and imposing hike, short enough yet so much upper body needed it's not for the wary. It was my introduction into Arizona hiking that quickly led to one after another adventures that took me farther into the area. At one point I would literally drive out on the Apache Trail which borders the northern side of the Wilderness area and pull off along a slot canyon area and park. Then I'd hop the guardrail and either alone or with my brother, we'd work our way up a river bed, side canyon or random cattle trail in the search of who knows what. We'd find crazy rock formations, tiny slot canyons, rattlesnakes, random backpacker gear, and a lot of times, some incredible watering holes hidden deep in the impenetrable forest that is catclaw hell. So when I began to form a mindset that I could cover more ground if I just ran some of the trail instead of walking I started to see more, experience more and learn a lot more. That led me to the interior of the Superstitions where I quickly found there to be an vast, expansive network of over 180 miles of linked trails. You can literally get lost out there, just up and disappear. Frontier men & women worked hard to eek out a living out there, some old houses still leaving their mark on the interior of the park, the upper elevations but generally, it's desolate, and incredibly beautiful. It's the kind of place you can't help but think to yourself, "You know...I wonder what's on the other side of this valley" and then work your way back up the steep incline to see one more time, just what is beyond that last ridge. Breaching the saddle and laying eyes on an entirely new valley, new canyons, new rivers that seem to stretch on forever is something a lot of people don't understand having never really seen something like that. Or maybe they just don't care. Maybe some people don't ever wonder what's beyond that mountain range, what's around that last bend that you should have turned around at. I do. So many people have taken off to search for old gold mines in the Superstitions, old miners have died trying for that last big score, treasure seekers still to this day are dying out in the desert looking for the famed, Lost Dutchman. They never find it, hell, it could have been found 100 years ago and we wouldn't know. Yet there is something about the Superstitions that has that affect on people. The Search & Rescue team we came across in March in our 50 mile adventure out there was looking for three young guys from out of state that went missing the previous fall. They found one guy, dead, at the base of a palo verde tree on the top of Black Mesa. Not but 3 miles from a main parking lot and less than 1/4 mile from the Black Mesa trail. There are still a half dozen bodies that were never recovered out there, hikers, gold seekers, tourists. It's a tough place, it will beat you up but with every trip I come out I feel that much stronger. Short or long those Supes are a beat down but with that beatdown comes some of the most incredible trails (used loosely), and some of the most scenic miles in the entire state. I've said it before, and I'll repeat it here, it's the most beautiful place in Arizona outside of the Grand Canyon. And it's less than an hour from Phoenix. With all the trips I've had in the Superstitions I've had my share of challenges, many more trips without issue but some that bear repeating. I once took a girl on our 2nd date up the Siphon Draw trail who then blew out her knee on the way down. It was a long walk back to the car. Why would I take someone to Siphon Draw on a date? Dumb. Go do the hike and you'll understand. http://hikearizona.com/decoder.php?ZTN=686 I went for a run out there in September with one water bottle (dumb) and on the way back it was so hot I was rolling a pebble around in my mouth to keep my mouth salivating. It was 109 degrees. No water the last 4+ miles which you can't run because you'll die it's so hard, rocky and bloody. I finished and my core temperature was close to 200 degrees. I say "200" because it's the only way to explain how my contacts felt like they had melted to my eyes. I hiked a slot canyon near Reavis Ranch with my three dogs years ago, it's an unnamed canyon, very difficult to access and long story short my lab fell from a rock about 5 feet, couldnt' walk so I carried him (96 lbs) in my arms over the boulders upstream to the exit. This took two hours to cover 200 meters and it started to get hot (It was naturally August...). So when I was supposed to be back in my Jeep on my way home I now had less than a mile to go but all vertical, off trail and with a lame dog. I had to leave my lab Monty in a sandy cave while I searched upstream for any source of water. Found a green pool of water that my dog jumped into immediately. Suddenly the water started to move and I quickly realized it was full of snakes, dozens of snakes and all over my dog Watson. Watson jumped out quickly and shook off on as I started to panic that I'd just killed one dog due to heat stroke and a second due to multiple snake bites. Watson ended up being ok, but I had to leave my three dogs in the cave, crawl out of the canyon with no water in 113 degree heat where I literally prayed to Jesus while leaning AGAINST a Saguaro for the only 3" slice of shade before making the last push of 200 feet to get to my Jeep. I then had to drive 22 miles of winding road to the first gas station that would let me call someone and my brother came out with his wife to help me. I drove back, went down expecting to see my lab Monty dead and while he was close he was still alive. My brother arrived and we carried them out, taking over an hour to complete a half mile. Monty would go on to have a weeks worth of emergency care. He was given a 3% chance of survival and to proceed with medical attention the hospital needed 50% deposit on what was at least $5000. He survived, and he's alive and well today although I'll probably never be free of the guilt of that day. It was a valuable life lesson but almost at the cost of my best friend. Oh, and Paul almost died in this years 50 mile adventure out on the JT trail. Forgot about that one. So it's no surprise that in less than two miles of running the Lost Dutchman trail this Saturday that my friend Jay Danek, in the midst of a 580+ day, 4 mile a day, running streak falls twice on the rocks. The second a bad one cutting us his knee and bruising him up more ways than one. Being the tough guy Jay is he made it through the day but barely as the trail is so rough it made it even harder on him with his hip not allowing him to lift his legs as he would normally. Hopefully his streak lives on a little longer but it seems the Superstitions almost claimed another victim. Our mutual friend Michael Carson, a Superstition veteran, made it out unscathed minus his choice in shorts. Which were barely long enough to cover a penis slip. Yes, that was a penis reference. You're welcome. Check out Jay's account of the run on his website. It's easy to find the one about the Superstitions. Just look for "I hate Jeremy Dougherty-Death Run" Yes, I'm famous. www.mcdowellmountainman.com I think for this years Superstition Wilderness 50K I might need a waiver. That might be the first waiver required race for a fat ass run ever... I swear it's really beautiful out there. January 7th. You'll regret not going. Maybe. The back side of Toms Thumb with Michael & Jay up ahead. It's really become something of a novelty, the 50K. It has become this cute little number & letter sequence, nice and round, nice and achievable. You see a 50K on a schedule somewhere, someone mentions it, you have some free time so you think, "I could knock out a 50K this weekend. Sure, why not?" Exactly, why not? How about because it's still 50 freaking kilometers! I won't make any excuses for struggling so much on the last ten miles of this run. It was a bit bizarre but in the end the struggle only helps me for the next race. I go through bouts of arrogance where I underestimate a run based on location, distance, or terrain when any one of those three can beat you down. In this case, the distance (29 miles), terrain (4,500+ feet of climbing) and location (local so it must be easier right?? No. 90+ degrees in 100% exposed trails...). My stomach took a turn towards the South Pole on the descent, every step was horrible, and only after a dozen trips to the rest room throughout the day did my body get back to normal. Yet my legs felt fine, feet were great and generally everything was great. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the Monster I had at mile 20 before climbing up the mountain but regardless, it was ugly and took a lot longer to finish the last few miles than it should have. Big thanks to Jay for waiting around for me despite how much I didn't want him to at the time. What did I learn? 1) Don't drink energy drinks on long runs. Ever. After a horrific Red Bull incident in the Canyon I tried it again at Zane Grey this year 33 miles deep. Tried it again this weekend with the exact same result. My stomach just can't handle it. Plain & Simple. Stick with Mountain Dew. 2) I've been avoiding the heat. This became very evident as it got hotter and hotter and there was not an ounce of shade to be found. Which I knew going in, again....dumb. 3) Never think a local course is going to be easier just because it's local. Mesquite Canyon 50K will teach you this every time. This course is no different. Despite little water access I decided to leave my handheld water bottle in my truck and go with just water and gels for the run. Why? Because I run in the McDowell's all the time so it must be easier right? No, I'm a moron. The last dozen long runs I've done with EFS, water, gels, real food, and a variety of electrolyte replacements in a lot of forms. This run was hotter, exposed and faster than many of the past longer runs and I never should have left home without more electrolytes. Jay was great to let me use his handheld with EFS in it the last 4 miles to get caught up. Never should have come to that. 4) I'm a king at overestimating my ability. I assume I'm capable of anything at any time, not through arrogance but instead through the mindset that I can just keep plugging along if it gets a little rough. I may plan ahead but my backup plan is always, "I'll push through it." Which is a stupid plan. Especially when your stomach can't handle another step without fear of extreme embarrassment on the trail as you rush off to drop your drawers. Which only happens when there are hot women walking by. This luckily didn't happen this time but you never know. Avoidance is key. Stop being dumb. 5) No matter how miserable a run is it's never pointless and you can always learn something. The first 15 miles were great, fast and fun. The second half, well...if I didn't in some small way enjoy a little misery I don't think I would be an ultrarunner. So it actually was kind of fun despite how tough that one section was. Just makes me want to train harder, learn more and go back and run that same course, faster, harder and with no problems the next time. Check out www.mcdowellmountainman.com for a full report by Jay on it with maps and photos. Something New...Something SoloThe Painted Desert by Garrett LeSage I've been out of the running world for a few weeks now, just getting by with a few runs here and there with no real training mentality or objective. In the past I've always tried to have some money invested in a race to motivate me, push me out the door at 4am but not now. Not since I finished Cascade a few weeks ago. I'm just ambling along without any real purpose. I originally was thinking of entering Man Against Horse for the 50 miles up Mingus Mountain but plans changed, I wasn't able to do it so I let go of that idea. Now I'm not actually going to be out of town and in fact could go do it but at this point I'm not trained or mentally ready for a fifty mile race. With that in mind I think I am ready for a 50K trail run, maybe unsupported, map & compass? Yes. Definitely. Arizona Badlands...like the Moon almost. Or I'm just weird.Painted Desert by Sean Cupp The Running on the Moon 50K isn't a real race. It's just a name I made up a couple months ago when looking around maps of Arizona and dreaming up places I'd like to run. I've mapped out a "course" across the open desert that I'll plan to loosely utilize as a route. There are no trails in the Petrified National Forest, no water stations, no rivers, no springs. Nothing. The terrain is wide open badlands with loose sand, hard rock, craggy surfaces to scurry up and over and around. The landscape looks like the moon. Barren yet beautiful, beaten yet alive. It's an amazing difference than other areas of Arizona and something I've very excited to see. There is very little elevation change, barely under 2,000 total climbing, if I followed the route I plotted. That's a far cry from what I'm used to but I'm sure still a time consuming route given there is no trail and the terrain is unpredictable. I plan on carrying a SPOT messenger as I do typically on off trail adventures. More so for my wife than anything as it's not all that far from the I-40 yet far enough after a run in with a rattler or broken ankle. If all goes as planned I hope this run to be a good sample size of what to expect should my planned excursion through the Navajo Reservation comes to fruition. Running on flatter surfaces, forcing the run, holding a steady pace is something I'm not strong at. Given all the "running" I've done I'm not really a good "runner." Instead I'm simply decent at maintaining forward motion, not necessarily at a running pace. I'll admit with no humility though that I have mastered the Ultra Shuffle. I'm an expert really. So this run with such little climbing will be a good test for me mentally to push through some miles and reach the mileage I need without coping out and shortening the route. As it is, the elevation gain across the Reservation is less than 12,000 feet of climbing over 200 miles...not exactly a mountain climb. Off We GoSo while all my friends are running against some horses in Prescott I hope to be in the Navajo Desert running along some ridge lines, across the Badlands and back safely to my truck. I'm excited for something so unknown to me, so unique and with so many possibilities. Just knowing that I can go right...or left...at any time and I'm not left to the direction the trail is going is such a dynamic shift from what I've grown to be accustomed to with races, training and the life on the trail.
Now if I can only find that SPOT messenger. Ironic that I always lose the one thing that is supposed to save the lost hiker. Running 100 Miles is Hard...Obvious? Of course. Yet still true and never more so until you think back over and over again at what you went through for that 100 miles and what you go through in the recovery stages afterwards. I wrote a full post on how my body broke down, got really sick and how I refused to go to the doctor for 12 days of a bad chest cold and then I hit something on my keyboard and suddenly it's 1995 and you just lost your entire history paper and you have to start all over again. By no means does that make me want to take this computer, lift it straight over my head, and slam it off my desk until it shatters into 900 pieces of crappy Chinese manufacturing. So here's the gist of it lacking in the humility, hilarity and overall excellent readability that I presented it in before: -Ran 100 Miles. -Felt great afterwards. Physically and mentally. -Ego drove me to run 6 miles 3 days later. -Immediately got sick. Body was pissed. "I hate you Jeremy. You are an a-hole for doing this to me." -my bodies inner monologue said through it's typical British accent. -Refused to accept that my running was responsible for my immune system filing for unemployment and giving up on me. Tried to get better by running sprints on a baseball diamond, running faster and with more hills and drinking beer. -Above recovery plan failed. With epic proportions. -Recovery Plan B: Run 20 miles in 5 hours at elevation in colder climate over extremely rugged terrain. Follow this up with 4 hour scream fest at Diamondbacks game along with copious amounts of American made beer and processed food. -Lose voice. -Regain fever. -Return to misery. Recovery is BlissLuckily God created Man so he could then create Woman who then could tell Man he was being an ego driven idiot and should stay home an actually rest. Man listens to Woman. Man recovers. Woman smarter than Man.
So in the end it still rings true. Running 100 miles is hard. One way or another it's going to get you. Either the anxiety before the race, the beat down on the trail or the aftermath afterwards. Had I just gone to the doctors office say...after 3 days instead of 13 I probably would have had much less of an aftermath but that's pretty standard for me. Oh, that's a compound fracture on your arm? Neosporin and ace bandage. Be healed in 3 days. Idiot. So after a couple weeks of feable running attempts, weakened body, and generally not any interest in running I'm back to my old ambitious minded self. While I'm going to be out of town for the Man Against Horse 50M on October 1st I still plan to run the Running on the Moon 50K as well as one of the races for the Cave Creek Thriller on October 29th. We'll see what else the month holds but at least I'm back in the seat. Looking forward to sub 100 degree temperatures and a return to the Arizona weather we all suffer through the summers to enjoy. BucklemaniaOne hundred miles. On foot. All at once. Something just two years ago I would have never believed people actually attempted, much less succeeded in I've now somehow done it. What was once thought to be impossible has now become possible. I've run 100 miles. Running one hundred miles, running any new distance, has always been a mission of finding my limits. Finding out if I can handle the rigors of the training, follow through with the goal of the distance and actually complete it. I’ve never had any grand illusions of entering a race to actually win it or “do well” but instead I’ve always been more interested in experiencing the people, running a new trail and the conversations afterwards as you sit and think back on what are always long, eventful days spent outdoors. One hundred miles in the Cascades would really be no different. In fact, over the course of one hundred miles in those mountains I’m left trying to even figure out what to say about something so extensive, so powerful and something so significant as running your first one hundred mile race. This race I would not be running alone though. The trip to the mountain range a little over an hour east of Seattle would be taken with fellow Wednesday Morning Running Club members Matt Schmitt, Honey Albrecht and Jody Chase. All of which at one point or another I’ve done training runs leading up to this race. With varying degrees of experience and speed we didn’t have any idea of how long we would run together on the course. It would turn out to be nearly the entirety of the race. Certainly I could give the mile by mile recap of how the race went, what I ate and so on but that would take longer to write than the race took to run. So here are the highlights: The Man behind the CurtainCharlie congratulating me after the finish. Race Director Charlie Crissman has an approach to race directing that I can really appreciate. Not that I have much to compare it to…with this being my only 100 mile race. But in general he’s just upfront, honest and genuine about how he wants this race to be and how he wants everyone to experience it. The race is called a “throwback ultra” being almost “Mom and Pop” and one for the racers. To me it just seemed right, just as I thought it would be and exactly how I think I would handle it had I been in his shoes. I loved his pre-race speech that said, “This is a tough course. If it’s just not your day out there don’t forget that nobody cares if you finished or not. You don’t get anything but this buckle. There’s nothing to be ashamed of by not finishing.” It was funny at the time hearing the race director essentially telling you this all means nothing and there is no fame and glory for finishing but certainly holds a level of truth that rang true all day. It really doesn’t matter if you finish or not and nobody will ever judge you for not finishing. Most people will never even attempt something this difficult in their lives, making it to the start line is more than many will ever attempt. Charlie was out on the course all day and night. I saw him several times and at the finish he seemed genuinely happy to see me finish and give me a big handshake with my buckle. He went back and announced that it was my first hundred and his enthusiasm was really heartfelt. Just has an aura of a great man, the epitomy of what many ultrarunners I’ve met have been like. The CourseHoney in the first 20 miles with Rainier in the background The roads are definitely a downer, at least to me. A necessary evil in order to connect some of these trails. You start with two miles of dirt road to connect to the big climb up Goat Peak. Then at the top you head down on a dirt road. This leads to some great trails that connect with over 30 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail that essentially takes you all the way into mile 53, Hyak Aid Station. It ends there for a while as you pick up your pacer to head out on 2.3 miles of pavement that connects to over 7 miles of uphill on a dirt road. In the dark. This is promptly followed by 7 miles of downhill on dirt road. So all the poor pacers start off their 47 miles with 15 on a road. Nothing like coming into Hyak talking about how great the trails were back there only to start a four hour trip on dirt roads after waiting over twelve hours to run. Mt. Rainier from the top of Thorpe Mountain, highest point on the course. The Course is breathtaking. So many people say, “How in the world could you ever run 100 miles?! That’s like driving to Tucson!” If people could get past their memories (horrors) of running on pavement alongside speeding cars while jumping over bags of McDonalds trash and roadkill skeletons and traded that in for ridgeline single track surrounded by hundred foot pines that open up to hundred mile views with a snowcapped Mt. Rainer in the distance? I’m sure they would have a new perspective on running in general. The Cascade Crest course is a very mountainous course following a loop around Kachess Lake topping out around 5,900 feet on Mt. Thorpe. There is over 20,000 feet of total climbing which if you are a Phoenix native it is about the equivalent of running five miles then hiking Camelback Mountain and then repeating that 20 more times. Lot’s of climbing is an understatement. It’s about 70% single track through the forests. And when I say single track I mean some of the most beautiful trail you’ve ever seen. The trail scouts ridge lines, powers down forest trails, climbs cliffs, and screams down switchbacks. It’s covered in pine needles almost everywhere, rarely technical and when it is it’s full of roots, rocks and trails you can’t help but run fast on. It has a rope section leading down to the Hyak Tunnel, a 2 mile long dark, wet, creepy tunnel that leads you into the halfway point of the race. It's a part of the race that adds a lot of personality to the race and one that up until the week of the race we were skipping. So glad we were able to experience it. Liz & Honey in between "Needles" After the downhill roads you are quickly left wishing there was more road as at mile 68 you begin the "Trail from Hell." A five mile stretch of wretched trail that is overgrown, beat down with massive trees and precarious up's and down's all hovering narrowly over a lake some hundred feet below. All at 3am after running for nearly 70 miles. Tired. Cranky. Exhausted. Stiff. It's dark. You're hungry. It's a hard stretch. A one point about two miles in (an hour...) I was stumbling because I was falling asleep. Noah and I had separated from the others, Jody taking off up front and Honey taking it slow behind us. I was so tired just plodding ahead I thought to myself, "I should just close my eyes for a while...just a few steps..." Only to fall immediately, look to my right and realize if I did really fall I'd be in the lake in 10 seconds. Double Espresso gel was ingested immediately. The sun started to come up at the end of the Trail from Hell and we reach the aid station at sun up. It's a depressing sight of exhausted runners, volunteers and Jody and I push on immediately to get started on the two miles of climbing on this dirt road. Exciting. Noah say's he's going to catch up. In probably the most tired stretch for me, mentally and physically, I really struggled on this climb but knowing that my wife Jen was going to be waiting at the top of the hill I at least had a goal. We hadn't seen our wives since we left Hyak over 20 miles and 7 hours ago and it was my new motivation to get up the hill. We moved upwards and occasionally I'd look back to see if anyone was coming up behind us. At first nobody was there but after a few minutes I saw a person wearing all red. Thinking nothing of it I turned back around, head down and kept my legs moving forward. Perpetual forward motion. Over and over I'd look back and see this person coming closer and closer yet i couldn't tell why it was so strange. It just seemed really red and blue and really tall. I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating and asked Jody. "What the hell is that coming up the hill?" It was getting closer and closer... A few minutes later I look back again. Closer now I could start to make out the figure. It was someone dressed in a full on "Uncle Sam" outfit. Red, White & Blue from pants, shirt, to hat. The guy even had a pair of white gloves and a fake white beard! I say to Jody, "Look at this guys outfit!" To which she said, "That's your pacer." "No...that's not MY pacer." Oh, yes it is. "Hey Noah!" So off we went, Jody, myself and Uncle Sam. We'd say hello to the ladies at the top of the hill and move on for another three miles of uphill on the dirt road. The views were amazing the entire way yet I was not interested what so ever. I was on a mission. Top of Thorpe Mountain-photo by Glenn Tachiyama www.pbase.com After No Name Ridge Aid Station (mimosa's!) we moved into the last 20 miles of the race. This meant not only the highest part of the course with Mount Thorpe but the Cardiac Needles. A series of steep, merciless inclines that I'm convinced were physically placed there to psychologically break the racers. They were not long, I doubt any of the four or five of them were even a quarter mile long but they were steep and they were tough. Especially with 80+ miles on your legs. After the first few you are at Mt. Thorpe, another mind blow where you are at the aid station but need to ascend the mountain, about a 20 minute climb, obtain a piece of paper and then return back down to continue on with the course. At this point though who cares about another 500 feet of climbing? Head down, get going. The views from the top of Thorpe made it more than worth it. Crystal clear views in all directions. Incredible. Thorpe was the last we'd see of Jody as she moved on ahead of us as we were going up and she was going down. Matt had taken off from Hyak and was probably an hour ahead of us so that left Honey, Liz (Honey's pacer) and myself and Uncle Sam. It was getting warm and we still had some serious downhill to go. After the last of the murderous Cardiac Needles beyond French Cabin Aid Station we started a loooong downhill. Eleven miles of mostly downhill running. None of which felt good. None of it I wanted to run. Until I started running. Jody, Matt and I along the PCT. Taking the lead for the group we came to a river crossing the trail. The trail had opened up to high forest meadows, wildflowers, streams and giant pine trees. Even in my half asleep zombie mood I was looking around in amazement of the beauty surrounding us. At the stream I soaked my feet in the ice cold water and just stood there wiggling my toes. I could have stood there for a long time but of course, we had to keep moving. Tetsuro Ogata, a young Japanese runner who I'd seen off and on again all day came through and dropped to his knees in the water, soaking his knees before saying goodbye and taking off down the trail. Noah and I followed and I started with the intention of running for a couple minutes and then returning to walking. I was tired, I didn't have any energy to push a few miles yet and just felt like walking. I pushed on and the trail got more and more runnable, more beautiful and I a few minutes later I decided to go a few more minutes before walking. Before long it had been ten minutes of straight running and my pace was picking up. Looking back I couldn't see Honey & Liz but Noah was right on my tail. I kept going knowing just a good twenty minute stretch of steady running can take a big chunk of time off and get us there just that much faster. Next thing I know I'm running so fast Noah is having trouble keeping up and I start worrying that I'm going to burn myself out too soon. We are still a few miles from the last aid station at Silver Creek mile 96 but I keep going. Faster and faster I can't believe I'm moving along like this. Noah is right on my tail despite at this point being about nine miles over his previous longest run ever. Noah and I would absolutely hammer out this five mile stretch before coming to a screeching halt at the top of the ridge where the decent straight into Silver Creek begins. Close to a thousand foot decent with about 3 switchbacks. Brutal abuse on the legs at this point in a race but we pushed on and came into mile 96, the final aid station, to the cheers of our wives and volunteers. A morale victory if there ever was one, with only four miles left I felt I could walk it in if I had to. Instead we kept running. And not slow either. I was feeling so inexplicably great I just wanted to run after shuffling along for so many long hours through the night. We ran as we crossed the road and along the four wheeler path which had to have been close to a six minute mile before taking a walk break to avoid a colossal meltdown in the heat. Noah had ditched the Uncle Sam outfit at 96 and was running behind me as we crossed the freeway and entered the last mile coming into Easton, WA, home of the Easton Volunteer Fire Department and the finish line. Final SprintOh yeah...full sprint. With every ultra I've ever done I've sprinted to the finish line. Not an upbeat job but a full on sprint, 100%, every ounce of remaining energy. Going into Cascade Crest I wanted to finish. I didn't want a specific time, placement. I just wanted to finish and I wanted to finish with the ability to sprint through the finish line. Coming into the little village of Easton you could smell the barn and we went for it. With every inch closer to the finish line you can just feel the energy surging through your body. The last 28 hours of non stop forward motion, the climbing, the downhill, the incessant pounding on your feet....all gone in this one glorious moment as we came across the open field for the one last turn. It's ingrained in my memory, that final turn onto the pavement and then looking up to see the finish line and to hear, "Jeremy Dougherty from Phoenix, Arizona!!" It's something I don't know if I'll ever forget. Crossing under that banner to the cheers of my friends and family and all the new friends you meet along the way. Having Charlie shake my hand and present me with my first 100 Mile belt buckle...simply incredible. What Now?Brother/Pacer/Uncle Same & I at the finish Well after running for 28 hours and 14 minutes I was excited to be done but surprisingly awake. I was really excited that the race had five gallon buckets of ice cold water to soak your feet and wash off. There was some amazing food at the finish line. Someone handed me a bean & cheese burrito that was so freaking good...wish I was more coherent to go back and get five more. My wife Jen endured a lot throughout this entire ordeal. Not just this weekend but all those times I woke her up at 4am to go running before work, the Saturday's driving to Flagstaff, Pine or Tucson to run in cooler temperatures not to be home until early evening, or just the times I was beat, tired and worn out from running so much. Her level of patience, understanding and support is incredible and she was so wonderful throughout this entire race. She had never crewed before and didn't know what to expect or do really throughout this race and she did great. She had an awesome supporter in Jeanine, Noah's wife, who was so awesome every time I saw her at the aid stations. She gives you such a lift with her upbeat attitude, you couldn't help but leave aid stations feeling better than when you left. The ladies drove all over the Cascades for me and this with a flat tire, five hour wait from Thrifty and missing me at one aid station. The 100 adventure is never just about the runner but the crews, pacers, and volunteers that are out there just as long, just as tired and just as invested in this thing. It was really special just having them all there. The Next Day...Jen & I at the Fish Market in Seattle the next morning. I ate almost 40 gels throughout the race. Forty. I had about 2 full bananas, six cups of soup/ramen, two full grilled ham & cheese sandwiches, perogies, 300+ oz. of water, countless chips, pretzels, turkey slices, at least 2 full PB&J sandwiches and everything I could find on a table. I had over 20 S-Caps, handfuls of ginger, tums, gummy bears, and oh boy did I slam some Mountain Dew! Yet still...starving and the next morning I rolled out of the hotel bed with one hope in mind. Don't collapse. One foot and then the other my feet held, legs outstretched and I was walking!! I'm not crippled!!! We walked around downtown Seattle, just Jen and I, had some breakfast overlooking the ocean and the now overcast and rainy skies. Three perfect days of sunshine flooded the streets of Seattle and the trails of the Cascades, all holding up until our race was over before letting loose the rain. Cascade Crest will always be something I'll think back on for as long as I'm running and then even after that. Such a special day, special accomplishment and shared with such great people. I paced Matt in his first hundred last fall and trained with him a lot this entire year leading up to Cascade. We ran together through 53 before he took off and ran a negative split in the second half. Which was harder than the first half. Incredible. Jody finished her 11th hundred mile race and to see her run so steady, so strong the entire race was really, really impressive. Liz is always a barrel full of laughs and constantly supportive. I feel lucky that I was able to run so much with Honey and Liz throughout this race. Honey pulled us along through the Needles when everyone was tired and burned out. It's impressive to see someone right there in front of you pulling another gear out when ten minutes earlier they looked completely done. More proof that you always have another gear. Always. Noah had never ran more than a 50k in his life and that was over a year ago. He knocked out 47 miles with a TON of climbing without a bit of complaining all while taking in my crabby, tired, bitchy attitude during that climb up the dirt road. He stayed so positive I felt I needed to lock it up and stop complaining several times. This guy was wearing a full polyester outfit! What am I complaining about?! I'm really proud of him for running so well and so strong. I'm sure I was going too fast for the both of us several times that last stretch but he hung on and stayed right on my butt the entire time which only pushed me harder. It's always more special when I get to run with my brother and experience those places, trails and mountains with him. I'm really glad he made the trip. Now...on to Hardrock! |
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