MOAB 240 - 2020
MOAB 240 - 2020
I registered for this race on January 13th earlier this year and have studied it almost every day since. That’s 9 months of pondering, asking questions and watching every youtube video available. In the end I managed to pull together an outstanding crew and a solid game plan. The plan, I thought was good enough for a top 10 finish, nothing flashy, but respectable. The crew was stellar and deserving of a better caliber runner. The result was nothing short of a miracle and something that both gave me solace and helped extinguish the demons I have with both heat and time in longer races.
The plan started out with a 2:30AM arrival into MOAB on Thursday, prior to race day. Luckily two of my crew members chauffeured me from Salt Lake city in the dead of the night, I was sound asleep the entire 3.5 hours drive. We stayed at the start/finish in a 6 person cabin, next door to another Georgia runner (Beth and her pacer Beth). We checked in at our 11AM prescribed time and then set off on what was supposed to be a day filled with finalizing details and possibly a trip to Arches National Park, but that plan was detoured by a 4 inch nail wedged into our truck’s tire. The repair basically took all day (they didn’t even charge us because they felt bad) so we grocery shopped and walked the buggy back to the cabin (2 miles away, don’t worry, my crew returned the buggy the next day). The best we could do for arches was a 6 mile run to and from the entrance, a quick photo, then touched the Colorado for good measure. We then set off for town for my last meal, a great burger, broccoli and beer.
Friday morning arrived at 5AM in preparation for my 7AM start. I started with the required list of items, but as for food and water, I took 1000ml of water, 2 honey singers and ate a thick PB&J sandwich (My favorite PB&J the entire race, I told Stefan this at least 3 times) just before we took off. This plan was laid out weeks in advance, and Stewart (my crew chief/pacer) was pretty good at maintaining my prerace written wishes throughout this ordeal. This year was a reverse staggered start. It was kind of nice to watch other waves head out ahead of me. It was calming as I got my stuff ready to go out for the first 17.8 mile section before seeing my crew. Once it was my turn it felt great. I stayed with Goggins and about 4 to 5 others until Hidden Valley, but knew that 9 minute splits was not part of my plan and probably would result in disaster. So at Hidden Valley aid station (9.3 miles) I parted ways with that group, partly out of wisdom, partly because the aid station was a zoo and just refilling my bottles took an excessive amount of time. This wasn’t anybody’s fault, it was just that all 200 people started to find each other early and Hidden Valley was at the foot of a slow climb straight up our first ridge on a single track. This combined with watering replenishment, meant that if you didn’t have a liter of water on you here, you were going to wait a little extra, then get behind a few more people up this climb. Goggins didn’t stop, my two flasks were empty so it wasn’t even a question what I was going to do here.
After the climb from Hidden Valley aid station we crested into what I assume is actually Hidden Valley, or if it has another name, just envision a beautiful hidden valley at the top of a ridge, but somehow still surrounded by higher ridges. The ground was flat and powdery, but eventually transitioned into slick rock. The slick rock brought us down to Amasa Back. This was at mile 17.8 and the first time I got to see my crew since 7AM. It was now around 10AM. Stewart and Stefan met me and took me to the truck, it was dizzying as they asked questions, reminded me of what I had instructed then pushing me back onto the trail. It felt strange almost like, “hey we love you, now get out of here!”. I honestly didn’t know what had happened or what I was even eating as I looked for the trail again. However, as was prescribed, I later found myself with 1000ml of water and extra empty liter flask (with filter), 6 honey singers, 2 bean burritos, cashews and a payday. I had mentioned that water might be an issue because I was quickly becoming aware that this year was nothing like previous years, pertaining to the weather, specifically the temperatures.
The section from Amasa to Base camp, starts out a little funny where you find yourself straddling a semi dried up stream, while also climbing a few spots that reminded me of something more familiar only at the Fall Classic. Actually I felt like the Fall Classic provided me some specialized training for various parts of this course, but for sure, there was an 8 foot section of slick rock that took you pretty much straight up and I found myself on my hands and knees for safety. This section is where I started bumping into people, who I found myself leapfrogging the rest of the race. The first person being Jason. Jason had run MOAB before, so he provided me with commentary from just after Amasa all the way until Geyser Pass. It was a pleasure being around him and if he reads this, I sincerely appreciated his company, especially after Base Camp heading into Breaking Bad. But I digress, we continued running ridges and slick rock until Jackson’s latter, which once you approach it in person, it looks much more daunting, unrunnable, and flat out dangerous as compared to the promo video. I would like to say this descent isn’t in the brochure, but it is; however, nothing, a picture, nor video can prepare you for it in person. It’s a maze of rocks along a path that takes you down nearly 500 feet in less than a half mile, think slow motion tower of terror, maybe that’s a fair analogy. It was after this section that scarcity of water started to become a topic of conversation and the point where I knew I would have to be very careful with my consumption if I wanted to make it to base camp. We ran within a valley as we continued south towards base camp all the while I was contemplating a compound of some sort in the distance, I still have no idea what it was, but there was a huge natural gas line coming to or from it. About a mile out I ran out of water, I ran into another runner, I think they kept calling her KK (from Wisconsin) who had run dry even farther out, and we weren’t alone as did many other runners. However, a delightful, although odd sight that suggested help was near was a frisbee golf course in the middle of the desert and it looked well maintained. Soon after Base Camp did come into sight and here water was plentiful, it was now around 3PM on Friday. It was also here that I fell in love with anything on ice and most importantly MOAB 240 hot dogs. Those things hit the spot and I had them at every opportunity, usually having at least two. Here is where I also started running with 2 liter of water instead of one. On my way out the owner of the property asked if I wanted to see his tortoise, I had no idea that what would walk out his front door would be something I could actually ride. I was enamored by his pet and just seeing him roam around on the front porch with his owner like a dog, elevated my mood. After a couple of pictures I left Base Camp (which I later suggested to the RD should be renamed Tortoise Station) with a new acquaintance. I found out that this guy was going to RD another large race and that his pacer would be Jamil Coury, pretty cool. I continued along though the desert, seeing more ATVs, a group of which were playing 50 state bingo, asking where we were from as we traversed the trail. I was pretty much alone as we approached the Lockhart water drop; however, I walked into someone getting carted off as they complained of breathing problems, now 4PM. I was surprised, but I actually needed to refill my two front flasks (1000ml), which again caused concern that 2 liters wasn’t going to get me to Breaking Bad, another 20 miles. However, what might have been equally bad was the water itself. It was sitting out in the bright hot sun, which meant that the majority of water I would consume for the next 5 to 6 hours would be just shy of what I might typically bathe in. I was concerned now with running out of water and/or turning my stomach sour, which I absolutely didn’t need or want. As the sun began to set, I again found Jason, he and I talked and he provided commentary as we headed into the Breaking Bad aid station. I decided, why I have no idea, to not stop to take out my belly light, but just run in his shadows. He warned me of the mind game that would play out as we approached Breaking Bad. You can see the aid station about a mile out, but you are actually closer to it a mile out than you are a half mile out as you are running a long switchback down into a valley. Also, being that it is dark, it’s all that you can see, so you have no real idea of the land surrounding you. The point is that it sucks, and it sucks for 15 minutes or so, but seems like at least an hour. This fact for me was even worse because I ran out of water just before we could see the aid station and I felt like the consumption of hot water over the previous 5 hours was about to take its toll. Something else that might be worth mentioning was the fact that again, people ran out of water and several things we thought were markers were actually strewn bodies littered alongside the trail, especially the last 5 miles before Break Bad.
We arrived at Breaking Bad, I would say at around 9PM on Friday. This aid station looked like a mash unit, nobody saying much and nobody moving fast from the sitting or lying position. I was focused on getting my stomach settled, and preventing cramping from starting up. I was on the edge of both. The aid station provided me with what I needed. They were low on ice, but they had ginger ale and quesadillas. The best part was a young kid who treated everyone there like movie stars, that kid got me, and everyone else around me anything and everything they asked for, which included so many trips of ginger ale alone, I started to feel bad for asking for more. However, he never stopped moving. He honestly should get some sort of recognition and I know anyone who reads this and went through there would remember him. He was even sending the runners off with encouraging words, it was a blessing to see such a cool kid. I spent too much time here, but figured if I moved prematurely I might jeopardize the race, I think I was there probably around 30 minutes or so, leaving I believe around 10PM.
I left the aid station alone, but bumped into Jason shortly outside the aid station. It wasn’t far out of Breaking Bad that I saw a headlamp in the distance, but not on the trail, instead seemingly out in the middle of the desert. I mentioned to Jason, that someone must be extremely bashful to go that far to take a leak. At some point I heard, “are you on trail”, when I replied yes. It was a lady, #4, she had taken a detour down a washout parallel to the trail. She made it back around and caught up with us. At this point she and I were moving a little faster than Jason and we took off running the next 15 miles together. It was nice to have someone to talk to and I enjoyed the company until we went our separate ways at Indian Creek. Here we finally both were able to get our pacers and reunite with our crews. It was now somewhere around 2AM Saturday. Sitting here getting ready to go out with my pacer, I saw 3 shooting stars and could even see the Milky way as the moon started to come into view.
Indian Creek is at mile 72.3. Stefan (my pacer) and I left probably within 20 minutes of me arriving. It was now night, but now necessarily cool, although water consumption was much reduced simply because of the absence of the sun. I had an O'doul's and a burrito. I left the aid station with a Red Bull, Funyuns, 2 Bean Burritos, and a PB&J.
The run out of Indian creek is a nice dirt road that leads into a paved section. The elevation shows that it’s uphill, but for some reason it feels like you are running downhill. We ran the paved road section without head lamps and saw the first of many dead animals, among which were several mice and a snake. Once we got back on a trail, it was still easy running, it looked like a dried up river bed, or partially dried up as there was running water clinging to one side of the basin. This was our first fence crossing and where we spotted “Phil”, or that was the name we gave him. He moved fast and seemingly without effort somehow without lifting his legs. We were moving through the gate when he yelled out hold the gate. Stefan obliged and he just ran though without hesitation or thanks. I told him the fee was $5, but he seemed unamused. We put the gate back as we found it then caught up and passed Phil. Some time shortly after we started seeing campsites then again, my pacer was called upon to save the day, this time to return an unwanted breakfast burrito to The Island aid station. I kind of felt that a burrito could go to the ground, seeing all of the mice, but Stefan said he wanted to honor the wishes of the runner and carried it until we found the aid station and a trash can. Here I was offered a Miller Highlife beer, which I gladly accepted, apparently I was the first person to agree to a beer with my breakfast burrito, now probably nearing 7AM. Just about the time I got my order together, and halfway through the beer, here came Phil. Phil was a very energetic individual, and apparently needed lots of very specific foods to fuel his personality. Stefan and I found his demands pretty hilarious, he sounded like a waitress at the waffle house calling out an order to the cook for a group of drunken college kids. At this point I had what I needed and I knew it was time to check out and move on. The next several hours we found ourselves tracking down and passing people as the sun rose and we ran though a beautiful large valley with what I would describe as a prairie within. However, our number 1 target we could see in the distance, we named burrito girl. I never made note of her name or bib number, but we did find and pass her before Bridger Jack.
Bridge Jack aid station was at the top of a ridge, once there we got to see Phil, anxious and demanding as ever, ready to order lunch as much as he was ordering the people around him. We got to refill our bottles, eat some more food, including some soup. We also got to witness team X’s crew admit that they had lost their runner and that, I quote, “now we know we aren’t as extreme as we thought”, and “this is F-ed Up”as they were shuffled into the radio tent. It was also here that they announced a DNF. I had assumed that there might be many due to the first 70 miles of heat and dehydration front the previous day. Again, I was greeted with a pretty cool animal as a distraction, a beautiful large Bouvier des Flandres, look it up, it sounds French.
Bridger Jack is at mile 102.6, and when we were there, probably around noon on Saturday, was extremely hot. Leaving here you head straight down into a valley through a small creek then into a dried up river bed with steep high walls and very little relief from the sun and heat. It’s a very hot and flat run for several miles before you eventually find yourself in a forest filled with evergreens and Aspens. It’s here that you start criss crossing several very beautiful and very cool streams. I would say we had to jump across 6 or more streams as you started the first and very steep climb into the Shay Mountain aid station. We never saw any cattle from Bridger Jack until the majority of climb heading into Shay Mtn aid station, however, their remnants were everywhere on the ground. Stefan and I both left Bridger Jack with 2 liters of water and I even practically laid down in the creek at one point, but we kept passing by these creeks without refilling our bottles and bladders because of the cow manure. However, at what ended up being the last opportunity for water and just before the climb turned straight up, we filtered, filled and topped off everything we had. It was a good decision and possibly a critical one as we were both low and still had two major climbs, I am guessing maybe just under 3000 feet over 6 miles total, with a steep descent in the middle.
We both ran out just before Shay Mtn aid station, we had consumed nearly 6 liters of water in 19 miles arriving empty at Shay Mountain around 6:30PM.
On our final climb up the gravel road we finally saw cattle, around 5 of them and ran into several runners that we would see for the rest of the race, one who gave me advice over email pertaining to running 200 mile races without knowing me at all. I still can't remember how I got his email, but once we met up on the trail, not having a clue of what each other even looked like there was a kinship amongst us for the rest of the race and even when we saw each other as tourists in Arches a day after we finished the race. Thank you Michael Scogings.
I also spoke to #13 as we had been bouncing around one another for several miles and continued to do so for the majority of the race. I remember him, because 13 was the bib number I wanted, I assumed it wasn’t heavily sought after, but it’s my daughter’s birthday, so for my family, it’s one of our lucky numbers.
We arrived at Shay Mountain, happy but tired. It had been 36 hours without sleep, but we were half way and as a bonus our team grew by three, including my wife, daughter and long time friend and previous to this race sole pacer Terra. It was now 7PM and our agreement had been for me to take a nap. I fulfilled the agreement, although somewhat reluctantly and slept for about an hour and a half. This combined with me visiting my family before and a slow start after meant that I would leave out with my crew chief Stewart for a cool and at least on paper downhill section of about 20 miles to Dry Valley aid station at around 10PM. However, it wasn’t long after the gravel road, turned into a paved road, then back onto a jeep trail that we realized it wasn’t cool nor downhill. Stewart and I both had to remove clothing and found ourselves rolling up and down out of one bowl to the next. I would tell Stewart I will run to the next dip then walk probably 50 times during this section. It is a little harder and slower section than the elevation map might suggest. It was cool that he and I both saw a shooting star as we crested the final hill overlooking Dry Valley aid station. We could see the aid station from some distance, but this several mile section is very runnable, including a paved section that is truly downhill.
Stewart and I arrived at the Dry Valley aid station around 3AM, now Sunday morning. This is where my third pacer, Terra stepped in. This is also where I had another two MOAB magical hotdogs, one with a bun, the other without. Stewart also fixed me hot ramen soup in the back of the truck and refilled my pack. I left this aid station with 1000ml of water, a redbull, sweet potato chips, cashews, M&Ms, 2 bean burritos and a PB&J.
This section might have been the perfect section for a night run, because although we could not see our surroundings, it was apparent that we were in the middle of an extremely large open area, it felt like we were in the middle of a pasture. The entire section from Dry Valley until we hit the paved road leading into Wind Whistle was dark, quiet and lonely. I consumed the Redbull bull early into this section, but still almost fell asleep standing up, even while moving. I consumed a caffeine tablet and this got us through sunrise, which hit just about the time we merged onto the paved section, just a few miles outside of Windwhistle.
Heading into Windwhistle we caught a second wind, the sun was coming up and the thought of warm food and an easy paved path made it particularly easy.
We arrived at Windwhistle, sometime after sunrise, I figured 8AM (Sunday). We were greeted warmly and our food was made to order, again, breakfast burritos, with egg, cheese and bacon. The aid station was vacant except for one individual who apparently had been there for some time, but would eventually pull the plug due to severe chafing.
We spent probably 15 minutes in camp, then headed back up the paved road toward RD 46. The first little climb wasn’t bad, but eventually we took a right onto a large maintained gravel road. The next 5.5 miles were nothing more than a gift. It was entirely runnable and downhill. We had to remove clothing as the sun and heat quickly changed our environment, from cool and calm, to soul sucking hot. In total this was a 12 miles section and the last 6 miles I found myself seeking any possible relief from the sun; however, there is no relief from the sun on this section. We did enjoy seeing a strange neighborhood built into sandstone, the F-U Coyote ranch and another cool sandstone formation, including a window that had a ton of visitors. This was at about the peak before traversing back down to RD 46. We were greeted by the roaming photographer, who took my “portrait” then ran another mile or two, to a highway crossing. It felt precarious, but we had plenty of time between cars.
We arrived at RD 46 aid station around lunch, it was windy and we could see a pretty gnarly looking storm off to the northwest. Terra and I were reunited with our entire crew and they began as usual preparing for me to reset and restart; however, with the storm moving in it was agreed upon that I would get ready and lay down for 30 minutes, which I did. One interesting thing that happened, that I wasn't expecting, was that my hands swelled to the point I could not close them.
Once I noticed the swelling and mentioned it to my pacer, we decided to get my wedding band off before it created a major problem.
I had been warned about my feet; however, they didn’t swell, or at least not during the race. They did swell 48 hours after the race was over, on my flight home, and remained swollen for about 48 hours.
The weather was warm, but the wind made it possible for Stefan and I to head out in our cold weather gear. This was one of the few times I could make it from one aid station to another without dealing with clothing changes since the Island aid station.
We left RD 46 aid station dressed for cool weather and wind around 1PM. We had the normal items for food and water, but added hummus wraps. It was a good call, because at some point it was all I could eat, especially after Pole Canyon. Almost immediately as we left, we hit a very busy road for about 1 mile. The shoulder was minimal and was a pretty treacherous road section; however, we were in broad daylight, so it wasn’t terrible. Most of the vehicles were very accommodating, however, they were moving at high speed and there were a few who acted like they enjoyed buzzing you.
Once you turn left off of the paved road, you immediately start climbing up very steep and narrow channels that had been carved out from rainwater over the years. Sometimes you found yourself trying to straddle the large ditches, sometimes you could carve out a ledge on one side or the other. During this section Stefan and I discussed just about every food we loved from childhood to our newly discovered love for hotdogs. This conversation got us through the highpoint before taking a dirt road through the valley heading into the La Sal mountain range. I hated looking at this beast, it truly terrified me. I continued to attempt to predict where we were and where we weren't going as I looked up. He and I talked a lot about trees and the fact that I had never seen a deadwood forest before. I told him we should be seeing Aspens, but we never saw any, not at least until we got deeper and higher into this section. Once we got into the foothills I actually relaxed, you couldn’t see much, but what you could see was a jeep road, surrounded by trees with very long and manageable switch backs.
We had visitors in the form of an old beat up Toyota, another wandering photographer, and some hunters on an ATV.
This section went by nicely, it was work, but enjoyable. We ate as we went, not a lot, a hummus wrap and some M&Ms. We got to watch the sun set and the landscape around us turn to a beautiful gold color. I felt alive and replenished coming into Pole Canyon. We arrived here just after sunset, around 7PM.
At the pole canyon aid station, we were the first in of what would continue to be a wave of 5 to 10 runners. They took good care of us, we set by the fire, had my feet looked over, they looked great and reconnected with a medical volunteer from Shay Mtn, who herself was just up from a nap and something hot to eat.
The aid station captain took extra good care of Stefan and I. He even offered up some disposable hand warmers. I thought that this might be a good idea, as I had been concerned that I hadn’t dressed warm enough. I knew that this night section we were about to depart on would be high, windy, and dry, in other words, cold.
However, I think that a combination of the warm soup, fireside warmup, these hand warmer and the fact that we were in a continual state of climb throughout the evening made my choice of attire just about perfect. I had already told myself that if need be, I could fashion my mylar blanket into a toga, something I have experience doing.
Stefan and I left Pole Canyon, before 8PM, but before we left we met another person who would keep bounding around me until the very end. #36, the aussie from NY. He was doing this unaided, so while we were heading out towards Geyser Pass, he was setting his watch for a 30 minute nap. I wished him well, turned on the belly lamp and started off through a patch of christmas lights strowned on the ground. The aid station captain said he was going to lay them down all the way to geyser pass, but ran out, he had made it maybe 15 feet. However, it was cool to see and a great way to start back up.
It didn’t take long before I noticed all of the extremely large Aspen trees that crossed the trail, and also the amount of clearing of these trees that had taken place. Just as I thought to myself about how well this course had been groomed for us, we approached a section of several downed Aspens strewn across the trail in a large clump. Stefan and I stopped and had to think about the best way to navigate these things, ultimately it was a tight belly crawl underneath several then a climb over the next few. After this little section I was even more grateful for all of the cleared blow downs along this section from Pole to Geyser.
This section was less than 7 miles and technically only 1000 feet higher than pole canyon, but elevation, fatigue, a very narrow and steep trail in general, which at times felt more dangerous to me than the side of the highway 20 miles back, and the fact that we would climb and decent over and over again meant we actually would climb 3 to 4 times that amount. The total climb since we had started shortly after lunch would eventually be just short of 9000 feet by the time we made it to Geyer, sometime after midnight. Along the way we saw some large bulls and several sets of eyes looking at us, which turned out to be deer. I had a redbull and wanted to take a trail nap at some point, so I finally just stopped and sat down, but my pacer thought that instead of stopping and sleeping all I needed was a hummus wrap. I was annoyed for a split second, but happy he did what he did, because food and moving turned out to be the right call. We finally got to a section that was more rolling and slightly quicker; however, the markers just disappeared. As a matter of fact, the marking felt scant to none for probably the last several miles of this section. However, between Stefan and his phone, mostly him and my occasional look at my Garmin inreach device, I felt mildly comfortable, if not just resigned as we continued into the night. During this race, my biggest pitfall was I continued looking for landmarks I knew about, in this section it was the gravel road leading to the aid station. However, there is a fake gravel road and also the gravel road section is very short, so this constant search for this elusive part of the trail made my mind go negative. This fact combined with the last mile and a half which seemed like we were doing circles looking over a ledge at what I believe to be MOAB probably 10 different times truly drove me mad. I had told myself not to speak negativity aloud during this event, but I had had enough of searching the gravel road to Geyser, I was done with this section. Luckily, just about the time I wanted to scream, we came out onto the road, and there was no denying we had found our last mile of this section. Going up the road we saw the moon, sitting on top of a ridge, I originally thought it was the aid station, but was corrected. Also, as we were climbing we had someone in a truck tell us we had about half a mile to go, then we watched him drive off into oblivion. I still don’t know if that section is a half mile or mile, but it felt a lot longer than either.
However, we finally came into the aid station and it was a wonderful sight to see. We came in after midnight and as usual was the first of several to arrive, but soon were joined by 5-10 familiar faces. The plan has been for me to sleep, so I did so for less than 2 hours. I think that by the time Stewart and I were ready to go, it was after 3AM, possibly closer to 4AM.
Stewart, would be pacing this section. I took my regular food, a clif bar and a redbull and we took off. Soon after we left, just as we were turning off of the gravel road we had a headlamp malfunction which required me to use my backup. It was less than desirable, but allowed for me to move downhill towards Oowah lake. The sun was rising and we could see clearly as the terrain went from downhill to flat. This area is beautiful and probably the most different from any other part of the course. It would be a shame to run this section in the dark. We ate again as we made the 1000 foot climb back out of the valley we had run ourselves into. Once we cleared the forest we were offered the second and truist gift of this entire race. It was a 11 mile section of dirt and paved road and a perfect grade. Stewart and I clipped sub 10 minute miles within the section several times and I think never stopped running. We made up a ton of time and spots along the way. It was beautiful as we got to watch the sun rise and we had a great morning. However, the last 3 miles became hot and I dragged
my tail. I wish I had been a little stronger for Stewart here, but there was a lot of taking off clothes and tying them around my waist and complaining about having to do so. At one point I had three garments tied around my waist and my pants in my hand. I wasn’t happy with the constant and inconveniently placed necessity to change clothes. However, we finally made it to the porcupine rim aid station and still ahead of the pod that I have been going back and forth for the majority of his race.
I was in a hurry here, I stripped and changed without any trepidation on the road beside the truck. I knew I had only 16 miles left and that it was mostly downhill. Terra would be my final pacer, we left sometime around lunch. Here is where I made some mistakes. I finally had made some blisters running downhill in an oversized shoe, I had been preparing for my feet to swell. No big deal, however this combined with my legs beginning to ache meant that I should have taken my poles in an effort to reduce weight and pressure on them. I forgot that this was my thought just 30 minutes prior.
The other thought that I had, but somehow did not execute was the fact that I wanted to begin this section with my handkerchief filled with ice. I knew that by managing the pain in my legs and my core body temp I would be able to keep up my pace
towards the finish. However, I forgot both and although I ran the first half well. I turned into a complaining pile of mush during the last 6 miles. My mind went south as I kept looking for MOAB, the Colorado river or anything recognizable.
This combined with my first fall, a true superman fall, which resulted in my left knee acting up made the last several miles terrible, even the last three miles of flat, mostly paved section was very slow. I kept looking over my shoulders as we progressed down the Colorado river towards the finish line in MOAB. I did kind of start acting a little better, but not much as we traversed the tunnel to the partially construed bike path. The road section in between made me nervous as I just don’t trust cars in general. I myself have come up on a person and not seen them before it was too late, and I consider myself extremely vigilant since I run in a small city so often; thankfully the pedestrians were vigilant and watching me. Once we crossed under the pedestrian bridge that crossed over the Colorado, I finally shifted gears and although I assume the pain was still right there with me, I don’t remember feeling it, nor did I feel tired.
Terra peeled off just as I crossed the finish line and was reunited with my team/family. The next day was going to be my daughter’s 13th birthday and although finishing this race was the primary goal, I had several others that were in conjunction with my family’s extremely important milestone. I had purchased my daughter a gift sometime after I registered for this race that I wanted to give her at the finish and I wanted time to have dinner with my crew before they had to leave and for my family to have time to explore MOAB and celebrate my daughter's birthday.
I also wanted her to choose my buckle. All boxes were checked.
I finished just over 81 hours and although the plan said 80 hours, I felt like we did well. I would have loved to have gotten in under my 80 hour goal and I know it’s possible if I ever wanted to revisit this adventure/challenge, but I feel content with the effort and outcome.
MOAB 240 - 2020
I registered for this race on January 13th earlier this year and have studied it almost every day since. That’s 9 months of pondering, asking questions and watching every youtube video available. In the end I managed to pull together an outstanding crew and a solid game plan. The plan, I thought was good enough for a top 10 finish, nothing flashy, but respectable. The crew was stellar and deserving of a better caliber runner. The result was nothing short of a miracle and something that both gave me solace and helped extinguish the demons I have with both heat and time in longer races.
The plan started out with a 2:30AM arrival into MOAB on Thursday, prior to race day. Luckily two of my crew members chauffeured me from Salt Lake city in the dead of the night, I was sound asleep the entire 3.5 hours drive. We stayed at the start/finish in a 6 person cabin, next door to another Georgia runner (Beth and her pacer Beth). We checked in at our 11AM prescribed time and then set off on what was supposed to be a day filled with finalizing details and possibly a trip to Arches National Park, but that plan was detoured by a 4 inch nail wedged into our truck’s tire. The repair basically took all day (they didn’t even charge us because they felt bad) so we grocery shopped and walked the buggy back to the cabin (2 miles away, don’t worry, my crew returned the buggy the next day). The best we could do for arches was a 6 mile run to and from the entrance, a quick photo, then touched the Colorado for good measure. We then set off for town for my last meal, a great burger, broccoli and beer.
Friday morning arrived at 5AM in preparation for my 7AM start. I started with the required list of items, but as for food and water, I took 1000ml of water, 2 honey singers and ate a thick PB&J sandwich (My favorite PB&J the entire race, I told Stefan this at least 3 times) just before we took off. This plan was laid out weeks in advance, and Stewart (my crew chief/pacer) was pretty good at maintaining my prerace written wishes throughout this ordeal. This year was a reverse staggered start. It was kind of nice to watch other waves head out ahead of me. It was calming as I got my stuff ready to go out for the first 17.8 mile section before seeing my crew. Once it was my turn it felt great. I stayed with Goggins and about 4 to 5 others until Hidden Valley, but knew that 9 minute splits was not part of my plan and probably would result in disaster. So at Hidden Valley aid station (9.3 miles) I parted ways with that group, partly out of wisdom, partly because the aid station was a zoo and just refilling my bottles took an excessive amount of time. This wasn’t anybody’s fault, it was just that all 200 people started to find each other early and Hidden Valley was at the foot of a slow climb straight up our first ridge on a single track. This combined with watering replenishment, meant that if you didn’t have a liter of water on you here, you were going to wait a little extra, then get behind a few more people up this climb. Goggins didn’t stop, my two flasks were empty so it wasn’t even a question what I was going to do here.
After the climb from Hidden Valley aid station we crested into what I assume is actually Hidden Valley, or if it has another name, just envision a beautiful hidden valley at the top of a ridge, but somehow still surrounded by higher ridges. The ground was flat and powdery, but eventually transitioned into slick rock. The slick rock brought us down to Amasa Back. This was at mile 17.8 and the first time I got to see my crew since 7AM. It was now around 10AM. Stewart and Stefan met me and took me to the truck, it was dizzying as they asked questions, reminded me of what I had instructed then pushing me back onto the trail. It felt strange almost like, “hey we love you, now get out of here!”. I honestly didn’t know what had happened or what I was even eating as I looked for the trail again. However, as was prescribed, I later found myself with 1000ml of water and extra empty liter flask (with filter), 6 honey singers, 2 bean burritos, cashews and a payday. I had mentioned that water might be an issue because I was quickly becoming aware that this year was nothing like previous years, pertaining to the weather, specifically the temperatures.
The section from Amasa to Base camp, starts out a little funny where you find yourself straddling a semi dried up stream, while also climbing a few spots that reminded me of something more familiar only at the Fall Classic. Actually I felt like the Fall Classic provided me some specialized training for various parts of this course, but for sure, there was an 8 foot section of slick rock that took you pretty much straight up and I found myself on my hands and knees for safety. This section is where I started bumping into people, who I found myself leapfrogging the rest of the race. The first person being Jason. Jason had run MOAB before, so he provided me with commentary from just after Amasa all the way until Geyser Pass. It was a pleasure being around him and if he reads this, I sincerely appreciated his company, especially after Base Camp heading into Breaking Bad. But I digress, we continued running ridges and slick rock until Jackson’s latter, which once you approach it in person, it looks much more daunting, unrunnable, and flat out dangerous as compared to the promo video. I would like to say this descent isn’t in the brochure, but it is; however, nothing, a picture, nor video can prepare you for it in person. It’s a maze of rocks along a path that takes you down nearly 500 feet in less than a half mile, think slow motion tower of terror, maybe that’s a fair analogy. It was after this section that scarcity of water started to become a topic of conversation and the point where I knew I would have to be very careful with my consumption if I wanted to make it to base camp. We ran within a valley as we continued south towards base camp all the while I was contemplating a compound of some sort in the distance, I still have no idea what it was, but there was a huge natural gas line coming to or from it. About a mile out I ran out of water, I ran into another runner, I think they kept calling her KK (from Wisconsin) who had run dry even farther out, and we weren’t alone as did many other runners. However, a delightful, although odd sight that suggested help was near was a frisbee golf course in the middle of the desert and it looked well maintained. Soon after Base Camp did come into sight and here water was plentiful, it was now around 3PM on Friday. It was also here that I fell in love with anything on ice and most importantly MOAB 240 hot dogs. Those things hit the spot and I had them at every opportunity, usually having at least two. Here is where I also started running with 2 liter of water instead of one. On my way out the owner of the property asked if I wanted to see his tortoise, I had no idea that what would walk out his front door would be something I could actually ride. I was enamored by his pet and just seeing him roam around on the front porch with his owner like a dog, elevated my mood. After a couple of pictures I left Base Camp (which I later suggested to the RD should be renamed Tortoise Station) with a new acquaintance. I found out that this guy was going to RD another large race and that his pacer would be Jamil Coury, pretty cool. I continued along though the desert, seeing more ATVs, a group of which were playing 50 state bingo, asking where we were from as we traversed the trail. I was pretty much alone as we approached the Lockhart water drop; however, I walked into someone getting carted off as they complained of breathing problems, now 4PM. I was surprised, but I actually needed to refill my two front flasks (1000ml), which again caused concern that 2 liters wasn’t going to get me to Breaking Bad, another 20 miles. However, what might have been equally bad was the water itself. It was sitting out in the bright hot sun, which meant that the majority of water I would consume for the next 5 to 6 hours would be just shy of what I might typically bathe in. I was concerned now with running out of water and/or turning my stomach sour, which I absolutely didn’t need or want. As the sun began to set, I again found Jason, he and I talked and he provided commentary as we headed into the Breaking Bad aid station. I decided, why I have no idea, to not stop to take out my belly light, but just run in his shadows. He warned me of the mind game that would play out as we approached Breaking Bad. You can see the aid station about a mile out, but you are actually closer to it a mile out than you are a half mile out as you are running a long switchback down into a valley. Also, being that it is dark, it’s all that you can see, so you have no real idea of the land surrounding you. The point is that it sucks, and it sucks for 15 minutes or so, but seems like at least an hour. This fact for me was even worse because I ran out of water just before we could see the aid station and I felt like the consumption of hot water over the previous 5 hours was about to take its toll. Something else that might be worth mentioning was the fact that again, people ran out of water and several things we thought were markers were actually strewn bodies littered alongside the trail, especially the last 5 miles before Break Bad.
We arrived at Breaking Bad, I would say at around 9PM on Friday. This aid station looked like a mash unit, nobody saying much and nobody moving fast from the sitting or lying position. I was focused on getting my stomach settled, and preventing cramping from starting up. I was on the edge of both. The aid station provided me with what I needed. They were low on ice, but they had ginger ale and quesadillas. The best part was a young kid who treated everyone there like movie stars, that kid got me, and everyone else around me anything and everything they asked for, which included so many trips of ginger ale alone, I started to feel bad for asking for more. However, he never stopped moving. He honestly should get some sort of recognition and I know anyone who reads this and went through there would remember him. He was even sending the runners off with encouraging words, it was a blessing to see such a cool kid. I spent too much time here, but figured if I moved prematurely I might jeopardize the race, I think I was there probably around 30 minutes or so, leaving I believe around 10PM.
I left the aid station alone, but bumped into Jason shortly outside the aid station. It wasn’t far out of Breaking Bad that I saw a headlamp in the distance, but not on the trail, instead seemingly out in the middle of the desert. I mentioned to Jason, that someone must be extremely bashful to go that far to take a leak. At some point I heard, “are you on trail”, when I replied yes. It was a lady, #4, she had taken a detour down a washout parallel to the trail. She made it back around and caught up with us. At this point she and I were moving a little faster than Jason and we took off running the next 15 miles together. It was nice to have someone to talk to and I enjoyed the company until we went our separate ways at Indian Creek. Here we finally both were able to get our pacers and reunite with our crews. It was now somewhere around 2AM Saturday. Sitting here getting ready to go out with my pacer, I saw 3 shooting stars and could even see the Milky way as the moon started to come into view.
Indian Creek is at mile 72.3. Stefan (my pacer) and I left probably within 20 minutes of me arriving. It was now night, but now necessarily cool, although water consumption was much reduced simply because of the absence of the sun. I had an O'doul's and a burrito. I left the aid station with a Red Bull, Funyuns, 2 Bean Burritos, and a PB&J.
The run out of Indian creek is a nice dirt road that leads into a paved section. The elevation shows that it’s uphill, but for some reason it feels like you are running downhill. We ran the paved road section without head lamps and saw the first of many dead animals, among which were several mice and a snake. Once we got back on a trail, it was still easy running, it looked like a dried up river bed, or partially dried up as there was running water clinging to one side of the basin. This was our first fence crossing and where we spotted “Phil”, or that was the name we gave him. He moved fast and seemingly without effort somehow without lifting his legs. We were moving through the gate when he yelled out hold the gate. Stefan obliged and he just ran though without hesitation or thanks. I told him the fee was $5, but he seemed unamused. We put the gate back as we found it then caught up and passed Phil. Some time shortly after we started seeing campsites then again, my pacer was called upon to save the day, this time to return an unwanted breakfast burrito to The Island aid station. I kind of felt that a burrito could go to the ground, seeing all of the mice, but Stefan said he wanted to honor the wishes of the runner and carried it until we found the aid station and a trash can. Here I was offered a Miller Highlife beer, which I gladly accepted, apparently I was the first person to agree to a beer with my breakfast burrito, now probably nearing 7AM. Just about the time I got my order together, and halfway through the beer, here came Phil. Phil was a very energetic individual, and apparently needed lots of very specific foods to fuel his personality. Stefan and I found his demands pretty hilarious, he sounded like a waitress at the waffle house calling out an order to the cook for a group of drunken college kids. At this point I had what I needed and I knew it was time to check out and move on. The next several hours we found ourselves tracking down and passing people as the sun rose and we ran though a beautiful large valley with what I would describe as a prairie within. However, our number 1 target we could see in the distance, we named burrito girl. I never made note of her name or bib number, but we did find and pass her before Bridger Jack.
Bridge Jack aid station was at the top of a ridge, once there we got to see Phil, anxious and demanding as ever, ready to order lunch as much as he was ordering the people around him. We got to refill our bottles, eat some more food, including some soup. We also got to witness team X’s crew admit that they had lost their runner and that, I quote, “now we know we aren’t as extreme as we thought”, and “this is F-ed Up”as they were shuffled into the radio tent. It was also here that they announced a DNF. I had assumed that there might be many due to the first 70 miles of heat and dehydration front the previous day. Again, I was greeted with a pretty cool animal as a distraction, a beautiful large Bouvier des Flandres, look it up, it sounds French.
Bridger Jack is at mile 102.6, and when we were there, probably around noon on Saturday, was extremely hot. Leaving here you head straight down into a valley through a small creek then into a dried up river bed with steep high walls and very little relief from the sun and heat. It’s a very hot and flat run for several miles before you eventually find yourself in a forest filled with evergreens and Aspens. It’s here that you start criss crossing several very beautiful and very cool streams. I would say we had to jump across 6 or more streams as you started the first and very steep climb into the Shay Mountain aid station. We never saw any cattle from Bridger Jack until the majority of climb heading into Shay Mtn aid station, however, their remnants were everywhere on the ground. Stefan and I both left Bridger Jack with 2 liters of water and I even practically laid down in the creek at one point, but we kept passing by these creeks without refilling our bottles and bladders because of the cow manure. However, at what ended up being the last opportunity for water and just before the climb turned straight up, we filtered, filled and topped off everything we had. It was a good decision and possibly a critical one as we were both low and still had two major climbs, I am guessing maybe just under 3000 feet over 6 miles total, with a steep descent in the middle.
We both ran out just before Shay Mtn aid station, we had consumed nearly 6 liters of water in 19 miles arriving empty at Shay Mountain around 6:30PM.
On our final climb up the gravel road we finally saw cattle, around 5 of them and ran into several runners that we would see for the rest of the race, one who gave me advice over email pertaining to running 200 mile races without knowing me at all. I still can't remember how I got his email, but once we met up on the trail, not having a clue of what each other even looked like there was a kinship amongst us for the rest of the race and even when we saw each other as tourists in Arches a day after we finished the race. Thank you Michael Scogings.
I also spoke to #13 as we had been bouncing around one another for several miles and continued to do so for the majority of the race. I remember him, because 13 was the bib number I wanted, I assumed it wasn’t heavily sought after, but it’s my daughter’s birthday, so for my family, it’s one of our lucky numbers.
We arrived at Shay Mountain, happy but tired. It had been 36 hours without sleep, but we were half way and as a bonus our team grew by three, including my wife, daughter and long time friend and previous to this race sole pacer Terra. It was now 7PM and our agreement had been for me to take a nap. I fulfilled the agreement, although somewhat reluctantly and slept for about an hour and a half. This combined with me visiting my family before and a slow start after meant that I would leave out with my crew chief Stewart for a cool and at least on paper downhill section of about 20 miles to Dry Valley aid station at around 10PM. However, it wasn’t long after the gravel road, turned into a paved road, then back onto a jeep trail that we realized it wasn’t cool nor downhill. Stewart and I both had to remove clothing and found ourselves rolling up and down out of one bowl to the next. I would tell Stewart I will run to the next dip then walk probably 50 times during this section. It is a little harder and slower section than the elevation map might suggest. It was cool that he and I both saw a shooting star as we crested the final hill overlooking Dry Valley aid station. We could see the aid station from some distance, but this several mile section is very runnable, including a paved section that is truly downhill.
Stewart and I arrived at the Dry Valley aid station around 3AM, now Sunday morning. This is where my third pacer, Terra stepped in. This is also where I had another two MOAB magical hotdogs, one with a bun, the other without. Stewart also fixed me hot ramen soup in the back of the truck and refilled my pack. I left this aid station with 1000ml of water, a redbull, sweet potato chips, cashews, M&Ms, 2 bean burritos and a PB&J.
This section might have been the perfect section for a night run, because although we could not see our surroundings, it was apparent that we were in the middle of an extremely large open area, it felt like we were in the middle of a pasture. The entire section from Dry Valley until we hit the paved road leading into Wind Whistle was dark, quiet and lonely. I consumed the Redbull bull early into this section, but still almost fell asleep standing up, even while moving. I consumed a caffeine tablet and this got us through sunrise, which hit just about the time we merged onto the paved section, just a few miles outside of Windwhistle.
Heading into Windwhistle we caught a second wind, the sun was coming up and the thought of warm food and an easy paved path made it particularly easy.
We arrived at Windwhistle, sometime after sunrise, I figured 8AM (Sunday). We were greeted warmly and our food was made to order, again, breakfast burritos, with egg, cheese and bacon. The aid station was vacant except for one individual who apparently had been there for some time, but would eventually pull the plug due to severe chafing.
We spent probably 15 minutes in camp, then headed back up the paved road toward RD 46. The first little climb wasn’t bad, but eventually we took a right onto a large maintained gravel road. The next 5.5 miles were nothing more than a gift. It was entirely runnable and downhill. We had to remove clothing as the sun and heat quickly changed our environment, from cool and calm, to soul sucking hot. In total this was a 12 miles section and the last 6 miles I found myself seeking any possible relief from the sun; however, there is no relief from the sun on this section. We did enjoy seeing a strange neighborhood built into sandstone, the F-U Coyote ranch and another cool sandstone formation, including a window that had a ton of visitors. This was at about the peak before traversing back down to RD 46. We were greeted by the roaming photographer, who took my “portrait” then ran another mile or two, to a highway crossing. It felt precarious, but we had plenty of time between cars.
We arrived at RD 46 aid station around lunch, it was windy and we could see a pretty gnarly looking storm off to the northwest. Terra and I were reunited with our entire crew and they began as usual preparing for me to reset and restart; however, with the storm moving in it was agreed upon that I would get ready and lay down for 30 minutes, which I did. One interesting thing that happened, that I wasn't expecting, was that my hands swelled to the point I could not close them.
Once I noticed the swelling and mentioned it to my pacer, we decided to get my wedding band off before it created a major problem.
I had been warned about my feet; however, they didn’t swell, or at least not during the race. They did swell 48 hours after the race was over, on my flight home, and remained swollen for about 48 hours.
The weather was warm, but the wind made it possible for Stefan and I to head out in our cold weather gear. This was one of the few times I could make it from one aid station to another without dealing with clothing changes since the Island aid station.
We left RD 46 aid station dressed for cool weather and wind around 1PM. We had the normal items for food and water, but added hummus wraps. It was a good call, because at some point it was all I could eat, especially after Pole Canyon. Almost immediately as we left, we hit a very busy road for about 1 mile. The shoulder was minimal and was a pretty treacherous road section; however, we were in broad daylight, so it wasn’t terrible. Most of the vehicles were very accommodating, however, they were moving at high speed and there were a few who acted like they enjoyed buzzing you.
Once you turn left off of the paved road, you immediately start climbing up very steep and narrow channels that had been carved out from rainwater over the years. Sometimes you found yourself trying to straddle the large ditches, sometimes you could carve out a ledge on one side or the other. During this section Stefan and I discussed just about every food we loved from childhood to our newly discovered love for hotdogs. This conversation got us through the highpoint before taking a dirt road through the valley heading into the La Sal mountain range. I hated looking at this beast, it truly terrified me. I continued to attempt to predict where we were and where we weren't going as I looked up. He and I talked a lot about trees and the fact that I had never seen a deadwood forest before. I told him we should be seeing Aspens, but we never saw any, not at least until we got deeper and higher into this section. Once we got into the foothills I actually relaxed, you couldn’t see much, but what you could see was a jeep road, surrounded by trees with very long and manageable switch backs.
We had visitors in the form of an old beat up Toyota, another wandering photographer, and some hunters on an ATV.
This section went by nicely, it was work, but enjoyable. We ate as we went, not a lot, a hummus wrap and some M&Ms. We got to watch the sun set and the landscape around us turn to a beautiful gold color. I felt alive and replenished coming into Pole Canyon. We arrived here just after sunset, around 7PM.
At the pole canyon aid station, we were the first in of what would continue to be a wave of 5 to 10 runners. They took good care of us, we set by the fire, had my feet looked over, they looked great and reconnected with a medical volunteer from Shay Mtn, who herself was just up from a nap and something hot to eat.
The aid station captain took extra good care of Stefan and I. He even offered up some disposable hand warmers. I thought that this might be a good idea, as I had been concerned that I hadn’t dressed warm enough. I knew that this night section we were about to depart on would be high, windy, and dry, in other words, cold.
However, I think that a combination of the warm soup, fireside warmup, these hand warmer and the fact that we were in a continual state of climb throughout the evening made my choice of attire just about perfect. I had already told myself that if need be, I could fashion my mylar blanket into a toga, something I have experience doing.
Stefan and I left Pole Canyon, before 8PM, but before we left we met another person who would keep bounding around me until the very end. #36, the aussie from NY. He was doing this unaided, so while we were heading out towards Geyser Pass, he was setting his watch for a 30 minute nap. I wished him well, turned on the belly lamp and started off through a patch of christmas lights strowned on the ground. The aid station captain said he was going to lay them down all the way to geyser pass, but ran out, he had made it maybe 15 feet. However, it was cool to see and a great way to start back up.
It didn’t take long before I noticed all of the extremely large Aspen trees that crossed the trail, and also the amount of clearing of these trees that had taken place. Just as I thought to myself about how well this course had been groomed for us, we approached a section of several downed Aspens strewn across the trail in a large clump. Stefan and I stopped and had to think about the best way to navigate these things, ultimately it was a tight belly crawl underneath several then a climb over the next few. After this little section I was even more grateful for all of the cleared blow downs along this section from Pole to Geyser.
This section was less than 7 miles and technically only 1000 feet higher than pole canyon, but elevation, fatigue, a very narrow and steep trail in general, which at times felt more dangerous to me than the side of the highway 20 miles back, and the fact that we would climb and decent over and over again meant we actually would climb 3 to 4 times that amount. The total climb since we had started shortly after lunch would eventually be just short of 9000 feet by the time we made it to Geyer, sometime after midnight. Along the way we saw some large bulls and several sets of eyes looking at us, which turned out to be deer. I had a redbull and wanted to take a trail nap at some point, so I finally just stopped and sat down, but my pacer thought that instead of stopping and sleeping all I needed was a hummus wrap. I was annoyed for a split second, but happy he did what he did, because food and moving turned out to be the right call. We finally got to a section that was more rolling and slightly quicker; however, the markers just disappeared. As a matter of fact, the marking felt scant to none for probably the last several miles of this section. However, between Stefan and his phone, mostly him and my occasional look at my Garmin inreach device, I felt mildly comfortable, if not just resigned as we continued into the night. During this race, my biggest pitfall was I continued looking for landmarks I knew about, in this section it was the gravel road leading to the aid station. However, there is a fake gravel road and also the gravel road section is very short, so this constant search for this elusive part of the trail made my mind go negative. This fact combined with the last mile and a half which seemed like we were doing circles looking over a ledge at what I believe to be MOAB probably 10 different times truly drove me mad. I had told myself not to speak negativity aloud during this event, but I had had enough of searching the gravel road to Geyser, I was done with this section. Luckily, just about the time I wanted to scream, we came out onto the road, and there was no denying we had found our last mile of this section. Going up the road we saw the moon, sitting on top of a ridge, I originally thought it was the aid station, but was corrected. Also, as we were climbing we had someone in a truck tell us we had about half a mile to go, then we watched him drive off into oblivion. I still don’t know if that section is a half mile or mile, but it felt a lot longer than either.
However, we finally came into the aid station and it was a wonderful sight to see. We came in after midnight and as usual was the first of several to arrive, but soon were joined by 5-10 familiar faces. The plan has been for me to sleep, so I did so for less than 2 hours. I think that by the time Stewart and I were ready to go, it was after 3AM, possibly closer to 4AM.
Stewart, would be pacing this section. I took my regular food, a clif bar and a redbull and we took off. Soon after we left, just as we were turning off of the gravel road we had a headlamp malfunction which required me to use my backup. It was less than desirable, but allowed for me to move downhill towards Oowah lake. The sun was rising and we could see clearly as the terrain went from downhill to flat. This area is beautiful and probably the most different from any other part of the course. It would be a shame to run this section in the dark. We ate again as we made the 1000 foot climb back out of the valley we had run ourselves into. Once we cleared the forest we were offered the second and truist gift of this entire race. It was a 11 mile section of dirt and paved road and a perfect grade. Stewart and I clipped sub 10 minute miles within the section several times and I think never stopped running. We made up a ton of time and spots along the way. It was beautiful as we got to watch the sun rise and we had a great morning. However, the last 3 miles became hot and I dragged
my tail. I wish I had been a little stronger for Stewart here, but there was a lot of taking off clothes and tying them around my waist and complaining about having to do so. At one point I had three garments tied around my waist and my pants in my hand. I wasn’t happy with the constant and inconveniently placed necessity to change clothes. However, we finally made it to the porcupine rim aid station and still ahead of the pod that I have been going back and forth for the majority of his race.
I was in a hurry here, I stripped and changed without any trepidation on the road beside the truck. I knew I had only 16 miles left and that it was mostly downhill. Terra would be my final pacer, we left sometime around lunch. Here is where I made some mistakes. I finally had made some blisters running downhill in an oversized shoe, I had been preparing for my feet to swell. No big deal, however this combined with my legs beginning to ache meant that I should have taken my poles in an effort to reduce weight and pressure on them. I forgot that this was my thought just 30 minutes prior.
The other thought that I had, but somehow did not execute was the fact that I wanted to begin this section with my handkerchief filled with ice. I knew that by managing the pain in my legs and my core body temp I would be able to keep up my pace
towards the finish. However, I forgot both and although I ran the first half well. I turned into a complaining pile of mush during the last 6 miles. My mind went south as I kept looking for MOAB, the Colorado river or anything recognizable.
This combined with my first fall, a true superman fall, which resulted in my left knee acting up made the last several miles terrible, even the last three miles of flat, mostly paved section was very slow. I kept looking over my shoulders as we progressed down the Colorado river towards the finish line in MOAB. I did kind of start acting a little better, but not much as we traversed the tunnel to the partially construed bike path. The road section in between made me nervous as I just don’t trust cars in general. I myself have come up on a person and not seen them before it was too late, and I consider myself extremely vigilant since I run in a small city so often; thankfully the pedestrians were vigilant and watching me. Once we crossed under the pedestrian bridge that crossed over the Colorado, I finally shifted gears and although I assume the pain was still right there with me, I don’t remember feeling it, nor did I feel tired.
Terra peeled off just as I crossed the finish line and was reunited with my team/family. The next day was going to be my daughter’s 13th birthday and although finishing this race was the primary goal, I had several others that were in conjunction with my family’s extremely important milestone. I had purchased my daughter a gift sometime after I registered for this race that I wanted to give her at the finish and I wanted time to have dinner with my crew before they had to leave and for my family to have time to explore MOAB and celebrate my daughter's birthday.
I also wanted her to choose my buckle. All boxes were checked.
I finished just over 81 hours and although the plan said 80 hours, I felt like we did well. I would have loved to have gotten in under my 80 hour goal and I know it’s possible if I ever wanted to revisit this adventure/challenge, but I feel content with the effort and outcome.
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