“Empty mind, full heart”
It’s funny to hear what your inner voice has to say when your legs are moving and your mind is still.
I don’t know why my psyche starts repeating this mantra (Where’s it from? A teavana sticker? A bit of wisdom from run camp? An echo from a rare yoga class? ) but at the moment it just feels... right. I’m filled with gratitude. I am deeply thankful for my health, to be racing hard three months after an A race DNS. I’m deeply thankful for the people and relationships in my life. And I’m deeply thankful to find a sport that simultaneously enriches and scares the hell out of me.
“Empty mind, full heart”
I’m the caboose of a conga line winding its way along the narrow paths of a desert canyon. The Arizona sun is brilliant, but not yet blistering, and the landscape stretches in all directions. A flurry of steps is followed by a sudden but inevitable course correction as we barrel down the switchbacks. Cresting even a minor hill makes me giddy and I have to resist the urge to extend airplane arms with mischevous glee. I catch glimpses of the scenery as it flies on by, but I stare intently at the pair of pink gaiters in front of me. I’d imagine good will evaporates rather quickly when you superman into the ever present cactus.
“Empty mind, full heart”
flow. It’s amazing. For me, it’s a feeling of timelessness as the miles just discreetly slip on by. The air tastes crisp and delightful. The sense of motion is exhilarating! But...I know it can’t last. In five hours, I’ll be grimly climbing through the dust with a pack full of melted Advil and a stomach that hunches me over with its strident complaints. In ten hours, I’ll be picking my way through an endless minefield of rocks in the small glow of my headlamp searching for any sign of an aid station. But in ultrarunning, as in life, you take the highs with the lows and just accept that you have to enjoy yourself when you can.
For now, I am satisfied.
By the numbers, the Black Canyon Ultras 100K doesn’t look too difficult. It has only relatively mild elevation gain and in fact is net downhill. It’s set in early February so the desert heat is minimized. And there’s plenty of aid stations along the way. Should be an easy Western States qualifying 100K, right?
Turns out, it was anything but easy. But I punched my ticket (yes!!!) and learned some very valuable lessons about the desert (and about humility.) C goal achieved (17 hours for a Western State lottery ticket), unrealistic A (13 hours) and B (14:24, PR) goals reevaluated. I’m counting that as a win. Thank you to Aravaipa for putting on a great, well supported race (and thanks to my mom in her crewing debut)
Ok, let’s shuffle the deck and see what kind of hand life dealt me this time…
- Solid training block
- 3 months at 3 weeks on, 1 off https://www.strava.com/athletes/1012972/training/log
- Peak weeks at mid 70’s, off weeks at mid 50’s, normal weeks around 60
- 5 days running, 1 day strength, weekday core routine
- Several back to backs and fatass 50K’s
- I came in feeling really strong
- Reasonable amount of time to train
- 3 months on a decent base is doable!
- No real illness or injury
- The only thing hurting from my Rio DNS is my pride. I’m lucky and I work hard.
- Rookie crew
- Thanks for coming, mom!
- No pacer
- Thanks for the offer, Simo, but I have to learn to rely on myself to deal with my fear of the dark
- Tried (and true?) nutrition plan
- Egels, margarita shot blocks, picky bars, Tailwind, and one epic bar. Whew. Supplement with coconut water from my drop bags and with aid station food as necessary.
- Hot weather
- High’s in the mid to upper 80’s. At least it’s dry, and at least it’s not as hot as Overlook!
Things are looking up. Easy course, good preparation, this might be PR material!
Alas, it was not to be. I was about 20 minutes off my PR (Cuyamaca 100k) but learned some valuable lessons.
Analysis: I’m experienced enough not to make huge mistakes.I’m a solid mid-packer, but I’ve got plenty of room for improvement.
- I nailed my hydration. I was peeing frequently with good color, even in the hottest part of the day. Awesome.
- Heat sours my stomach. I tried Tums and pepto, but still faced a dull ache through much of the latter part of the day. I didn’t eat enough and became calorie deficient, perhaps contributing to
- A breakdown in mental toughness. I’m happy to say I bent, but never broke...a DNF never crossed my mind. But I definitely was reduced to a sullen, walking heap more than a few times. I did a good job of keeping moving, but I need to figure out how to give myself a good talking to and get myself back into a happier mental state.
- My legs are in good shape (yes, even my fat knees) Strangely, it’s my back and shoulder which are killing me after the race.
- Don’t underestimate the course! Elevation isn’t everything. Trail footing and climate can make or break your day
- Technical trails are challenging. Early in the day (like…<1 hour in) I faceplanted on some relatively clear trail. Thankfully I landed on my handhelds. But as the trail sprouted more and more rocks as the day went on, I grew more and more cautious which slowed me waaaaay down. I must have stubbed my toes no fewer than 30 times, but thankfully I didn’t eat it again. If I could figure out a way to ease that physical and mental burden, I could actually run more of the course. No idea how Sage (Canaday, the overall winner) was able to run about 2X my speed. Incredible.
Tales from the trails
How do I convey 15 hours worth of excitement, drama, and suffering? How do I convey the experience of being simply a body moving through space? Of being a part of the countryside and apart from it? I hoped to do this during the race by live tweeting pictures as often as I could. I’ll stick to that here, with some stream of consciousness commentary.
I came into BCU feeling really solid. No weird gaps in my training, no lingering illnesses, nothing. I was firing on all cylinders. I flew into Phoenix and met my mom, who’d crew me during the race. It was her first time crewing, so she was really excited! Blah blah blah pasta race prep blah blah blah good Italian food etc etc OK race time.
Shameless selfie
Before I knew it, I was lined up on a high school track with Sage Canaday and Hal Koerner and Amy Sproston and Denise Bourossa. Ok, more like WAY BEHIND than “with”, but you get the drift. The temperature was crisp, so I opted for an extra long sleeved layer on top. Jamil started us off around the track and the race was on!
Section 1: Miles 1-15
I feel awesome. Everything’s new and amazing. Hey look, a big cactus! Check out how the rising sun makes the entire horizon gold and purple! The shadows it casts on the hills are breathtaking! I’m holding back in the midpack, but I still feel great.
Ultradork and crew
The terrain at this point is runnable and downhill. Conga lines all around! I catch my toe on a rock about 30 minutes in and down I go. Thankfully, I’m only embarrassed (handhelds are great!) and not injured. After 2 more people eat it around me in quick succession, I realize that the rock heights are hard to judge in the early light. But I’m fresh and nimble and carry on.
Pirate aid station
Section 2: Miles 15-38
Man, it’s hot. Bright, too. And sandy. Is that more cactus? There’s no shade. Those upcoming hills look fun. Did my advil actually melt in my bag? Yes. That’s crazy. Keep on top of those fluids and pound those coconut waters at the aid stations. Hey, I have to pee. I’m awesome at hydration. Maybe not so good at keeping pace, but awesome at hydration.
It’s a party at the aid station! So festive.
I think I’m eating. And sweating.
This fella blew past us and mumbled “gracias.” Check out those running sandals! That single screw top soda bottle! BadAss. Would it be presumptuous to think he’s a Tarahumara?
This was what the rest of the day would look like. Rocks, rocks everywhere.
Crossing the Agua Fria “river”
Hope I don’t end up like this by the end of the day
Gangnam style cactus
A little obstacle course racing mixed in. Metal bars? Check. Balancing required.? Check. Barbed wire? Check. Sadly, I didn’t notice the gate on the right until waaaaaay too late in the race.
Section 3: Miles 38-50
And here’s the part where I had to run an extra 0.5 miles to the car since my spare headlamp fell out of my bag. Womp, womp.
They said that there’s a 9 mile exposed climb coming up. I learned my lesson at Overlook...I’m hauling up 2.5 liters of ice and water. I have a feeling I might need it.
Ow. My stomach hurts. What are all these damn rocks doing in the trail? I have to walk some downhills and powerhike the uphills. At least there’s some light cloud cover. That’s a huge bonus. But if I don’t keep taking in calories and liquid, I’m toast.
Then, when I needed it most, a big ole bowl of ramen noodles. AID STATIONS ARE THE BEST.
No stepping stones, time to just wade through.
This cactus wants a hug!
These guys rock. Ramen saved my ass and likely my race. Gotta remember that for the longer races.
Finally, some shade!
Section 4: Miles 51-62
“Only” 12 miles left.
Equals far too many hours of this.
It’s dark. I can’t run. I can’t see. At least it’s cool. And there’s no bugs! But I’m getting REAL tired of picking my way through these technical trails. Wasn’t the aid station supposed to be here by now? Am I lost? Is that a snake??? (no, just a root) Hey, this section seems runnable!!! I can push it for….half a mile. Damn. Maybe I can try to run harder on the technical sections and...CRAP I stubbed my toe. Where is everybody? Where’s the aid station? Do aid stations even exist?
I’m trying to hook onto these trains of runners, but every time I try to hang on, they seem to effortlessly pull away. Whatever. Head down, time to grind, oh thank god, it’s the finish line, 10 min/mile “sprint”!!! 14:43:34
So with all that kvetching about suffering, how’d I actually do? Well, despite my pre race braggadacio (because of?) I ran my slowest 100K. I wouldn’t say it was harder than Waldo (14:24) but it was definitely NOT as straightforward or as easy as I hoped it would be. It was a lot more similar to Cuyamaca (14:35) but it amazes me that all three races were in the same ballpark.
And now, the $64,000 question: did I go out too fast?
My splits actually seem reasonable, and my place in the pack didn’t fluctuate too much. I gunned it between miles 20-40 evidently, but didn’t lose too much between 40 and 50. I even picked up a few places by the time I hit the end. So no, I didn’t do anything *too* stupid. I even wonder if the results would be much different if I had gone out more conservatively.
Gear:
Gear was great. A bit overkill, but nothing I would change going back.
Amphipod 20 oz X 2
Nathan HPL 20 (used more like a vest + a hydration bladder on the 9 mile climb)
Hoka One One Mafate 4
Pearl Izumi sun sleeves (a lifesaver in the heat. Maybe literally)
Nutrition and hydration:
Tailwind & water in handhelds
1 L of coconut water approximately every 15 miles
EGel cherry bomb gels
Margarita shot blocks
Picky bars (Sunflower)
1 epic bar (bison)
S-Caps as needed
Aid station food to taste.
What would I have done differently? Not a whole lot. I mean, I was carrying a large margin of water, but that was almost a necessity if things suddenly went pear shaped. My gear was fine and I nailed my hydration. I felt well trained and was frustrated since I had the legs to run, but not the skills to navigate technical trails in that state. Nutrition will need some tweaking to prevent stomach pains from late in the race (anyone have suggestions? I’m pretty much fine in 50 miles and then start hurting near the end of the 100K’s. I might try cutting out gels entirely for Gorge 100K). Mental toughness needs work, too. When I get into a black mood, I need to be able to pull myself out. Even without a pacer, I need to get outside my ball of negativity and give myself a swift kick in the ass. I also need to figure out how to run quickly on technical trails. Food for thought.
Closing thoughts:
I loved this piece from URP about imposter syndrome. I’ll be satisfied once I earn my buckle. Honest. :-)
I also loved this podcast during the race. Matt talks about perceived effort being mental. It helped me power through those hills.
Next is recovery, than Gorge Waterfalls 100K on April 2.
And now for a well deserved treat.
Happy trails!
David
