April 28, 2007
At almost the last minute, I decided to go ahead and again run the Zane Grey 50 this year. I was going to skip it because I ran in the McNaughton 150 two weeks earlier, but my 80-mile DNF left me with a quick recovery time. The following week I ran a leisurely pace at the tough Bonneville Shoreline Trail Marathon above Salt Lake City. That mountain course left me with sore quads, but by Thursday I was pain-free and decided to go ahead and make the trip to
(see 2005, and 2006 race reports.)
The Zane Grey Highline 50-Mile Endurance Run is held below the Mogollon Rim near Payson,
Looking up to the Mogollon Rim
This year would be a different experience. The course would be run in reverse, from east to west. I really looked forward to the new experience. It would have 1,500 less elevation climb, but I wouldn’t be fooled. I knew that the course is very tough run in either direction. What makes it so tough, is the constant climbs and descents on rocky trails. The route progresses below the Mogollon Rim, not on top of it. This means that it criss-crosses countless drainages, gullies, valleys, and washes. Down and up, down and up. Most of the climbs are short, but there are four pretty substantial climbs that can wear you out. What makes it really tough, is that you just can’t run it fast. The trail is in control. It forces you to slow down. If you don’t, you will pay the price, tripping, falling, scraping yourself up, or other nasty results.
After work on Friday, I quickly rented a car and made a fast nine-hour, 600-mile trip to Payson Arizona. I checked into a motel and actually succeeded in getting some sleep before waking up a 2:00 a.m. to get ready. Thankfully Arizona doesn’t believe in Daylight Saving Time, so I got an extra hour of sleep. I caught the bus at the Payson Inn at 3:00 a.m. Wow, that was early! I tried to just relax and rest as the bus took us on a 45-minute trip to the start. After arriving, we still had an hour until the start, so I just stayed on the bus for another 45 minutes to stay warm. But I fully realized that staying warm would not be a goal for the rest of the day. Before it was all over, I knew that it would get very hot. As the start came near, I found Utah running friends, Phil Lowry, Dave Hunt, and Lyle Nay. They were all surprised to see me. I was glad that I decided to come.My goals for the race weren’t aggressive. I knew I wasn’t well-rested. I knew that I had no heat training runs since last summer. I hoped to break 13 hours this year (2005 13:55, 2006 13:32), but my primary hope was just to have a fun time. With three minutes to start, my first blunder occurred. I could not find the water bottle I planned to carry in my hand. I thought I set it down somewhere in the dark. I quickly searched my finish-line bag, but couldn’t find it. (After the race I found it in there.) So, I foolishly decided that I would be OK with just two water bottles, and made my way to the start line.
Rather than starting near the front, I put myself about a third of the way back in the 129 runners. At 5:00 a.m., off we went in the dark along the trail. In my two other Zane Grey races, I tripped and fell within the first mile. I vowed that I would be more careful this year, and I was. With the reverse direction, we would first experience a very runnable rolling trail through the forest and then a long downhill section to the Christopher
Runnable trail in the forest
The morning was beautiful below the Mogollon Rim which kept the morning sunshine away for awhile. The temperature was wonderful. There was a nice breeze and I hoped that it would continue into the afternoon. In past years, this 11-mile section seems very long. I knew that it would still be very runnable, so I concentrated in keeping my pace up. Slower sections would be coming soon. We rolled up and down, in and out of the drainages below the rim. The views were incredible, but the trail demanded so much attention, that I spent most of the time looking down.
By about mile 10, I eased off my pace a little and made no attempt to keep up with a half dozen runners who still wanted to push a fast pace. I recognized famed runner, Pam Reed, who caught up with me. She had a very smooth constant pace on both the uphills and the downhills. I kept her in my sights for several miles. I would fall behind on the uphills, but catch up on the downhills. Early on, I set a firm strategy to push hard on all downhills, but take it easy going up. This course becomes so technical that it can easily cause you to slow way down or walk the downhills. I vowed to push fear aside and somewhat recklessly push a face pace down the very rocky hills. When I slowed, I reminded myself not to let the trail dictate the pace.
Typical rocky trail
So far, things were holding together very well. I had no muscle or joint problems. My ankle strength fell excellent. On several occasions blasting down the rocky trails, my ankles would start to roll, but they were strong enough to keep my balance and avoid any serious twist.
There were starting to be more exposed areas without trees, but the morning sun was at my back. I was concluding that I really enjoyed this reverse direction much better. Having the sun at our backs was a big advantage. Also, it was nice to run the first runnable 17 miles on fresh legs. I arrived at Fish Hatchery aid station (mile 17) at the 3:36 mark. I was now in 44th place. I knew that the next 8-9 miles to the next aid station would be hot and tough. I made a quick stop, but drank as much as possible. I was the first among a large group of runners to leave the aid station. I soon could see and hear several of the runners on my tail. I decided to try to increase my pace and stay ahead. The next section was a very scenic and enjoyable section that included some runs across slickrock and grassy fields.
In the burned section (from 1999 race)
Usually at about mile 17 into a race I start to drag and get passed by runners left and right. For some reason today was different. I felt fantastic. My legs felt light and had a wonderful spring to them as I bounded down the rocky trails. After awhile I no longer could see or hear the runners behind me. Soon I saw a runner far ahead. “OK, let’s reel him in,” I thought. No problem, I caught up and passed him. For the next five miles or so, I had a blast catching and passing about a half dozen runners. As we entered the burned-out section, I could spot the runners ahead. I noticed that I was running about the same speed on the uphills, but going about twice as fast on the technical downhill sections. I was really having fun, especially bounding down the very tough, technical, rocky sections.
It was starting to get hot. I was drinking through my water bottles at a fast rate. As I crossed a small running creek, I filled up a bottle that I used to squirt myself with. But once my other bottle was empty, I couldn’t resist, I had to drink the unfiltered stream water. I hoped that there weren’t any nasties in the water. It seemed like the Hells Gate aid station would never arrive. Another runner told me his GPS said we already had traveled over 25 miles. I became convinced that the mileage was indeed long in this section. I slowed near the end of this leg starting to feel the affects of dehydration.
Finally, Hells Gate (25 miles) arrived at the 6:02 mark. I had climbed to 39th place. In past years, I reached this “half-way” point at about 5:30. This seemed wrong. This year I was running at least the same pace or faster, in the top 40. I am convinced that the mileage is wrong. In past years I was really wasted at this point and took a long stop. This year, I didn’t sit down, drank as much as I could, and concentrated on making a quick stop. While there, some clouds rolled in and for the first time the hot sun was blocked. The difference was amazing. Several of the runners who I caught up with were resting in chairs under a shaded tarp. I was determined to make use of those clouds and push on ahead to start tackling what I knew would be the hottest 8 miles of the course.
The burned-out section continued. It became hotter and hotter. At every stream crossing I would dip my hat into the water. That would cool me down for a few minutes. Finally, about mile 30, we had to climb a long exposed grassy draw. The heat was terrible; it felt like it was 90 degrees. It slammed me to a crawling pace. Several runners caught up. We were all struggling in this section. Keeping hydrated was a constant effort. One very significant challenge of this course is that the aid stations are so far apart. Without three water bottles, I again ran out of water and had to resort to drinking some stream water. At times I would recover and start passing runners again, but without proper hydration, I soon lost my energy and slowed back down.
I arrived at Washington Park (mile 33) at about the 7:54 mark, in 40th place. Those hot eight miles had taken almost two hours. The volunteers were very helpful and worked hard to try to cool everyone down. I put some ice in my hat, drank plenty and went on my way. The next nine miles were tough. I was no longer racing, just working hard to finish. At some point, Charlie Vincent and Eve Davies from Utah caught up to me. They were moving well. I kept up with them for a couple miles. At one point when we reached a stream, Charlie stopped to totally immerse himself in the water. About a mile later, I slowed down again and Lyle Nay from
I ran out of water yet again, and by the time I reached Camp Geronimo (mile 42) at about 10:39, in 44th place. I had held my position for the last 25 miles. I was very seriously dehydrated. I sat down on a cooler next to the fluid containers and just sat and drank for the next few minutes. Eight more miles. A 12:30 finish was very possible, but I didn’t really care anymore. I concentrated hard on recovering from dehydration. It felt like I was running a temperature and I wasn’t sweating like I should be. I left the aid station but didn’t move very quickly for the next mile. Finally I stopped, sat on a log, and took a couple Succeed Caps. Pam Reed caught up and passed me at that point. She asked how I was doing and commented on my gross salt-stained shirt. “Boy you sweat a lot.” Yep, I was a messy sight.
Soon I started to recover and could feel that I was sweating again. But I was energy-drained and was just content to keep moving, walk all the uphills, and run all the downhills. More clouds had rolled in and the temperature cooled off nicely. I knew that I faced a long 5.5-mile uphill, with a steep 2.5 downhill at the end. Despite knowing that fact, it seemed like I would never reach the top of the climb. Short downhills would fool me into thinking that I was perhaps on the final stretch, but around the corner there was another hill to climb.
I knew that I would easily beat my time from last year, so I no longer cared about time or finishing position. I took in the beautiful sights and views. Soon I was again feeling much better. But this time, I ran out of gel and food. For the last few miles I felt starved.
Finally that last hill arrived. The views down into the valley were incredible. For some reason I had a strong deja-vu moment. Everything looked so familiar, but I knew I had not seen that view before. In past years it was dark along this section of the course. I descended rapidly into the valley and soon noticed that glow sticks were hung for the many runners who would finish after dark. As I was enjoying the moment, sight-seeing, having a great time, I noticed a sign that said there was a half a mile to the trailhead and pointed the direction. Great, I thought, just five more minutes. I would finish in just over 13 hours. Or so I thought. As I continued on, I was puzzled that I no longer saw yellow flags or glowsticks. That was strange. Next, I noticed that there weren’t very many foot prints on the trail. That’s odd. After five minutes, I was really puzzled. I then came to another sign that again said the trailhead was a half mile away. What! I was off course…badly. I stopped and listened. I could hear noise from the finish area off to the southeast. I ran on a small trail that seemed to go the right direction. It took me back up instead of down. I soon saw flags again, but they were the wrong color. Finally I could see the finish area, but I didn’t want to run in from the wrong direction, so I spent the next several minutes trying to find my way back to the correct trail. Well, I couldn’t. So at last, I knew that I would just have to face the embarrassment of running in from the wrong direction. As I approached the finish area, Dave Hunt from Utah quickly spotted me and yelled that I was going the wrong way. Ha, ha — like I didn’t know.
So, instead of running to the finish with cheers, I faced jeers from my friends as I ran across the parking lot, with a grin, around to the other side of the finish line, jumping over a rope and then sheeplishly crossed the finish line. “I missed a turn,” I explained. The RD, Bob, laughed and handed me my finish bag. How can anyone get lost with a half mile to go? That was pretty funny. I ended running about a mile extra, wasting about 15 minutes or so. I finished in about 13:20, in about 54th place. My creative finish cost me about 4 places. 91 of the 129 runners finish. The winner was Kyle Skaggs, who finished in 8:25.
Despite my blunder, after I drank and ate, I felt fantastic. I was still full of energy with no muscle, joint, or foot soreness at all. Clearly I had left a lot back on the course, taking my lovely time finishing the last eight miles. It had been a great day with many highs and lows. I didn’t stay long, needing to get on the road for home. By 9:30 p.m. I was checking into a motel in Flagstaff. After a great night’s sleep I drove the remaining miles home. It had been a wild and fun weekend. This was the first ultra that I have ever finished three times.