PRE-RACE PREP, TRAINING, TRAVEL
Black Canyon 100k was my first race since San Diego 100 last
summer. I had signed up for a couple events in between there, but with all of the big
changes going on, I just couldn’t muster the energy to get my ass to the
starting line. BC100 was a big celebration of everything I’ve been working
towards the last few years, and it signaled a big change in mental perspective
for me. Law school really tore me down. I felt out of my element and unsure about where I wanted to go (and whether I could even get there if I knew). But graduating, finishing a 100-miler, and pushing through the bar exam was cathartic. Getting engaged was another existentially affirming experience. With all of this, I've started to feel more centered. While I can't know what the future will bring, I know I'm tough, I'm smart, and I have people who love and support me. And that knowledge has allowed me to get out of my comfort zone and spread my wings the last few months, especially in training.
Course re-routing
A few days before the race, I got an email from an
SFRC/Baybirds teammate, John, saying the RDs had changed the course. Instead of
a point-to-point, we would now be turning around at the Soap Creek Aid Station
around halfway.
Travel and getting
around
Travel to the event was really easy. We flew into Phoenix
and rented a car at the airport. From there, the race start is about 90 minutes
(to Mayer). Packet pickup was in a little town called Anthem, which was
basically a suburb of Phoenix. We got in really early and had to kill some time
before I could get my bib, so we hit Whole Foods (there was one right on the
way). Of course I slammed a big metal door into my right foot while we were
there. I thought I broke my toe, it hurt so bad… But fuck it, if you’re going
to run an ultra you may as well do it with a jammed toe.
We decided to stay up in Prescott Valley since it was closer
to the start (25 minutes) and about a 45 minute drive from the finish. I’m not
sure I would do that if the course were normal, just because it would be a long
drive after a 100k – but it worked out perfect for us since the race had been
re-routed to finish up at Mayer, too.
Goals
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| After Bumble Bee heading North towards the start/finish (PC: Stephen) |
Every race I’ve done before this has been in the thick of
law school (or bar exam studying). So I’ve never had the actual time (or
emotional energy) to really prioritize running and running goals – other than
just finishing. Racing has been more about survival than actually trying to
push my pace and run strategically.
So my first goal for Black Canyon 100k was to push myself
early on—to not be too cautious or too conservative starting out. I really
wanted to run hard and see how long I could hang on. My second goal was to
finish in 11 hours or less (basically sub 11 minute/mile pace average). My
training runs were all low 10 min/miles, so this seemed reasonable (lol).
RACE DAY
The race was one of the best organized I've seen. The course was marked incredibly well, and I didn't hear about anyone going off-course at all - even in the dark. The reflective markers were super helpful and really well-placed. The volunteers were fantastic - eager to help, funny, and out there in the freezing mud!
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| The start! (PC: Stephen) |
It was raining steadily the morning of the race. It wasn’t
cold, but it was definitely wet. I was kind of enjoying it. Almost all of my
training was at zero-dark-thirty in the rain, so I was in my comfort zone. I
had my Oiselle Roga shorts on, a nike dry fit longsleeve, and my Northface rain
breaker. I had Stance socks and Nike Wildhorses. I coated my hot spots in
Squirrel’s Nut Butter, which, conveniently, was a sponsor of the event! At the
end of the day, I couldn’t have picked better gear to run in.
I wore my Salomon S-Lab 5-set vest, with two softflasks in
the front and GU in all of the pockets. After San Diego 100, I’ve been in the
habit carrying a small stick of SNB during races – it makes for a much more
pleasant shower after (haha). So I started with Tailwind, GU, and SNB. I picked
up two of the new wide-mouth Salomon softflasks at SFRC the weekend before the
race, and they were SO much better than the old ones – way easier to fill, and
easier to handle in the vest.
A couple important things to know – there were no GU packets
on course, and the drink was Gatorade. I had noticed no mention of calorie
packs or electrolyte drink on the website, so I loaded up my Salomon pack with
two soft flasks of Tailwind and enough GUs to last me through 20 miles or so.
It was a good call. Also, drinking Gatorade made me feel like I was in 5th
grade again, so that was fun.
THE COURSE
The first couple miles are through a neighborhood (paved
road) to the trailhead. I pushed myself out of my comfort pace – I could feel
the altitude, and my heart rate was a little higher than usual. Once we turned
left onto the (dirt) trailhead, a volunteer shouted “The next few miles are the
worst of the mud – it gets better!”
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| The view from up on the Mesa looking West (PC: Stephen) |
The trail was pretty wide, but it was completely mucked up.
My feet sunk a few inches with every step. The middle of the trail looked like
pudding, but when I tried to run on the sides of the trail, the clay stuck to
my shoes and created big heavy mud-pancakes. Everyone was cursing and joking
they should’ve trained with ankle weights. I was getting a little disheartened
– I had wanted to push myself early on and was stuck stumbling through deep
mud. My shoes were barely hanging on – I was hoping to make it out without
having to retie them, when… THUUUCK!
My right shoe was suddenly about 4 feet behind me, getting
swallowed up in the hillside. The women next to me said, “OH GOD.” I hobbled
down in my sock and dug out my shoe. By this time, my jacket’s hood had
completely filled up with water, so when I bent over to dig, I also got a bath
of freezing water all over my neck and head. Before jamming my now-mud-covered
foot into my shoe, I tried to squeegee the chunks of mud off my foot, but just
ended up spreading it all over like peanut butter (laughing quietly to myself
how a couple hours earlier I had thought “Oh SHIT YEAH, these coral socks will
look SO great when I finish”). I got the shoe on and tied them tight enough to
stay on, but just loose enough that I didn’t cut off circulation to my toes.
Luckily, by Antelope
Creek Aid (at 7.7 miles), the worst of the mud really was over. I didn’t
stop at the aid station since I’d packed everything I’d need for at least the
first 20. After the first aid station, the course reminded me of the San Diego
100 course. The trails were along the edge of a mountain range/ridge, and we
ran a serpentine path in and out of the hills’ fingers, gently rolling up and
down over each one. The mud did get better. It was still tacky at that point,
so each step was sticky, but no longer shoe-sucking.
I blew through Hidden
Treasure Mine Aid (12.5 miles) without stopping. Through the next stretch,
we got nice views to the east and continued weaving in and out of the hillside,
slowing heading downhill. The terrain was great, and I could see why this is a
fast—but deceptively difficult—course. This stretch was really cold because the
wind was whipping up the hillside and blowing rain into the runners’ faces. I
was really glad I’d worn a longsleeve under my rain jacket. I also realized I
was behind the pace I wanted and started to mentally readjust goals – and I
figured I should grab a headlamp from Stephen at Bumble Bee, since I probably
wouldn’t see him until late in the day.
Bumble Bee Aid (19.5 miles) was the first time I
saw Stephen. With the course changes, crew was only allowed at the first three
aid stations – but access seemed like an issue, especially in a little
jelly-bean rental car. Bumble Bee seemed to be the easiest to access off
Highway 17, so we stuck with that. At aid, I refilled my hydration with
Gatorade and grabbed my headlamp and bootscooted out of there. I still had GU
to get me through at least halfway, and my liquid calories were keeping my
stomach happy (no solid food yet).
I passed through Gloriana
Mine Aid (23.7) with a group of 2-3 people, and we fell into a nice rhythm
cruising down the next stretch of trail, which was narrow single track—again,
weaving in and out of the hillside. The trail was rocky and flanked by a lot of
low cacti, and the hillside was steep here. Eventually a group of 4-5 mountain
bikers came up behind us, so we tried to get off the trail, but there wasn’t
much room. One biker took a turn hard and slid off the trail and down the
hillside with a loud yell. She didn’t go far- and was ok, but it was scary.
Of course, in this same stretch of trail the men’s leaders
came from the other direction… so we were trying to squeeze off a trail that
was maybe 18” wide to let big mountain bikes careen past us from behind – and
we were trying to squeeze against the other side of the trail to let the men’s
leaders by. It was… interesting. Luckily, it wasn’t a long stretch before all
the bikes had passed us, and the leaders were pretty stretched out. And, in my
unbiased opinion, trail folks are pretty much the nicest human beings so there
was a lot of “Oh, gee wilikers excuse me” and “Oh my bad, here you go first”
and “Great job! You’re doing great!” This section was also nice because the
rain stopped and I started to dry off and feel my fingers again.
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| Typical BC100 Terrain (PC: Stephen) |
Heading down to the Soap
Creek Aid Station (31.2) was a long downhill stretch – maybe 3-4 miles. The
trail transitioned from the serpentine rolling hills to a wide fire road. Leaving
the foothills was downhill – where it intersected with the fire road was a
steep but short uphill (maybe half a mile or so). Af
ter that initial climb, the
fire road descended for a few miles, then had a couple little kicker climbs on
scrappy rock trails right before the aid station. I was pretty sick of running
downhill at this point, and I was really glad the course change had us running
uphill.
Soap Creek was a great aid station – the volunteers were top
notch. They quickly helped me refill my soft flasks, and they had these insane
BEAN WRAPS (refried beans rolled up in tortillas). It was the best race food I
have ever had. I grabbed a ton of food, put it in my pockets and figured I’d
eat and hike back out of the scrabbley rock hills. Between the great food, being
halfway, and starting to move uphill, I had a HUGE morale boost at this point.
I was totally dry. I was feeling really good and really happy to be on the
trails. Plus, I’d hooked up with a group of nice people – two guys from Georgia
and a guy from Fernley (WTF how do Reno people always find each other??).
I climbed strong up the long hill back into the foothills.
The wind was picking up, so even though I was dry, my skin was starting to get
pretty cold. I popped my hood up to keep my head warm and focused on running to
keep my temperature up. The sky was getting dark with clouds, so I figured I
had limited time until the rain came. Along the stretch to Gloriana I saw the
last few runners hustling through and we gave silent nods of encouragement.
I had one GU left, and like a true nerd I told myself, “And
for you, Maggie Baggins, I give you the light of GU yumminess, our most beloved
star. May it be a light to you in dark places when all other lights go out.” I
actually held it up in the air and laughed as I thought of this… it’s the
little things.
At Gloriana Mine Aid
(39ish), I did my usual locust move and grabbed a handful of potatoes, pickles,
and pringles. I sat down and stuffed food in my mouth while I shook out my
socks, which had hardened like ceramic. Smart runners had packed clean and dry
shoes and socks. I noticed that the backs of my legs looked like dinosaur
scales from all of the mud that had caked on over the past few hours.
It was about 4.5 miles to Bumble Bee. Stephen had planned to
pace me in the last 12.5, so I figured I had another 11.5 until I’d see him. I
loved running the terrain in the other direction (up). It was still really
gentle, and I was surprised at how much downhill there was on the way back. I
could see how it would be really enjoyable on a warm day (or warm night). But
the wind was starting to pick up even more, and it was spitting rain. My skin
was a weird pink color and it was really cold. I was really glad I had a hat
and my hood on my head – my main core was still warm.
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| Coming into Bumble Bee the first time (PC: Stephen) |
At Bumble Bee
(42ish) I was super surprised—and really, really happy to see Stephen. He had
hitched a ride with Zack Bitter (who was pacing Nicole Kaligaropolous, the
winner – and a badass lady lawyer!) He had brought the rest of the GU, so I
loaded up with those, grabbed some more of the magical bean wraps and potatoes,
and we boogied out of Bumble Bee. The next stretch was about 7 miles. It was
softly raining at this point and the wind was blowing.
My goal was to not use my headlamp until the very last aid
station – just as a mental motivator. Stephen and I made short work from Bumble
Bee to Hidden Treasure, leap frogging with a group of about 5 people almost the
whole way. I get really quiet when I’m focusing, so it was quiet, and I just
listened to the sound of raindrops hitting my hood and thought about when I was
little and used to camp with my family.
We rolled into Hidden
Treasure (mile 49ish), and I grabbed more potatoes and Bean Wraps. Someone
here had the brilliant idea of making veggie bullion – so I chugged a cup of
that and we moved out. People were dropping, so I didn’t want to spend a lot of
time in the warm tent.
It was getting dark and cold at this point. We could still
see, but it was that eerie diffused blue twilight when the sun is setting AND
there are storm clouds. The 5 miles to Antelope Creek were where the race
stopped being “fun.” Everyone on the trail was quiet and moving with a purpose –
get to the finish.
Antelope Creek Aid
(mile 54ish) was a shitshow. The tent was packed with cold, wet people. The
volunteers were amazing and were triaging. I didn’t realize it, but
there were also some 60k folks in there. The wind was whipping the tarps all
over the place, and people were shouting back and forth to their pacers.
Somehow I got a cup of warm veggie broth and Stephen and I left – I drank on
the trail.
I turned on my headlamp. Stephen had forgotten his in his
rush to get to the aid station. So he ran slightly behind me and we trudged
through the last section of trail, which was mostly downhill. There was A LOT
of water on the trail. Thankfully, most of the soft squishy mud had been washed
off the surface – but it had been replaced by deep water. We basically ran 5
miles with our feet submerged in freezing water (my shoes are still soaked three
days later).
On top of the mesa, there was no cover. It was pitch black. The
wind was merciless, and my skin was frozen. Even under a rainproof windbreaker
and longsleeve, I was fucking freezing. But—and maybe this has to do with my
shift in perspective this past year—I was still grateful to be out there. I
thought about how Mexico wasn’t that far from where we were, and immigrants had
made tougher journeys than this. And I thought about how privileged I am to be
able to do fun (maybe stupid) shit like this and how lucky I am to have “personal
fitness goals,” when so many people just want security and basic necessities in
their lives. So Stephen and I laughed and held hands as we stumbled through the
dark and rain.
I was so happy to see the paved road, Stephen and I hustled
the last two miles through the neighborhood and cruised across the finish. I
apologize to whoever was in the parking lot as I stripped into my skivvies –
but I had to get those wet freezing clothes off. We cranked the heater and
jammed back to the hotel. Sadly, someone from the hotel cleared our craft beer
selection out of our mini-fridge… so that sucked. But Stephen ran out and found
a couple bottles of beer to celebrate (and I took a hot bath).
My feet looked pretty gross (like trenchfoot-y). But within
a couple hours, the color had come back, and they looked good. No blisters. No
black toenails. Legs were tired, but not immobile. All in all – a good day!
TERRAIN SUMMARY
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| Typical BC100 Terrain (PC: Stephen) |
- Starts on a couple miles of road. Transitions to dirt trail (3-4’ wide) on top of a mesa – rolling and gently climbing to Antelope Creek.
- After Antelope Creek, rolling downhill on narrow (maybe 2’) single track – lots of hairpin/serpentine through the hills until Hidden Treasure.
- Views open up after Hidden Treasure, but terrain is basically the same. The trails are rocky – but like, random rocks stuck in the dirt (not scree).
- A couple larger, but still runnable hills, in and out of Bumble Bee. Same narrow single track all the way to Gloriana – but now bordered by more cacti and scrub brush. All gently downhill with rolling throughout.
- The first section after Gloriana was the narrowest trail – and I saw a lot of bloody rocks where people had tripped and cut themselves. About 3-4 miles from Soap Canyon the trail hits a fire road and opens up – smooth and runnable. Steep, short climb (.5 mile) followed by a few miles of downhill to the aid (and rocky/scree crap for like .75 miles before the aid.
