When you're seriously under-trained, injured, and attempting your longest distance to date, it's best to have zero expectations. I went into Antelope Canyon 55 km with hopes that I could run the majority, but hike it out if necessary, in 10:59:59. I had high hopes the pain would be limited to a butter knife slapping my hip, like a giddyup in the Kentucky Derby, rather than the familiar butcher knife stabbing into my hip. Spoiler alert...I finished without pain!
I'm an old hand at not only being under-trained, but simply not training. So the fact that I had only run over 10km a handful of times since the debacle that was Knee Knacker in July, the longest being 17km when Hulkamania ran wild at Carkeek in October, this wasn't a major stressor. But it becomes a little more worrisome when you realize you haven't run in sand since those badass Army guys made you run down the beach carrying rebar or a giant log on your shoulders 8 years ago and you're about to encounter 23 miles of sand. Add to the mix that every run you set out on the past couple of months has caused excruciating hip pain, and doubts start to fill your head.
I knew I could hike the majority of the 55 km in under 11 hours considering how flat the course was, but I wanted to run so badly. I signed up for weekly needling sessions with the amazing Jessie Wong at Physio Room. The majority of the time, I don't feel a thing and have to see the needles sticking out of me to believe they're actually in there. But the last two sessions my muscles danced (it still tickled and made me giggle). The night before I flew to Las Vegas, we went needle crazy. I could only hope that this would finally do the trick and get my hip and back loose enough to run 55 km through the desert. Another spoiler alert...it did!
The hardest thing to do when you travel carry-on and have to fly to a race is find a way to cram as many gels as possible, along with all of your toiletries, into that teeny tiny zip-loc bag. Thankfully, I have mastered the meager allowance from CATSA and am a carry-on packing machine. I think I managed to get a dozen gels in there. The biggest scare was getting the 'look' by US Customs at YVR when declaring my dates and bacon jerky. "Please don't take my bacon! It's for a race! I'm running 55 km through the desert and need that sweet, salty, smoky, delicious bacon!" Little did I know you can buy bacon jerky at the airport as soon as you clear US Customs. What?! And little did I know the amazing volunteers at Antelope Canyon Ultra would be frying up bacon all day long! Double what??!! I could probably do an entire blog post on the food offered up during this race.
#SQUIRREL! Has anyone else ever wondered why you don't hear more stories of trail runners being victims of serial killers? Think about it. "Oh! You're going to the race too? I'm from another country and not familiar with the area. Mind if I hop in the car with you, complete stranger, and travel across a state or two with you?" I always try to get some form of contact information/photo to give someone who might give a rat's ass if I did happen to disappear into some dark chamber or mass grave. But they could be anybody! Our logic though is as simple as "they're trail runners". Odds are pretty good that they're more concerned with how to get a beer on course (more on that later) and how much food they get to eat during the race. But trying to convince your people that don't run trails is not quite as easy as a simple "Don't worry Mom...He's a trail runner..." For this race, my mystery stranger was George, and it became "Don't worry *insert loved one, he's a teammate on Team Nuun! I'll be perfectly fine."
I'm an old hand at not only being under-trained, but simply not training. So the fact that I had only run over 10km a handful of times since the debacle that was Knee Knacker in July, the longest being 17km when Hulkamania ran wild at Carkeek in October, this wasn't a major stressor. But it becomes a little more worrisome when you realize you haven't run in sand since those badass Army guys made you run down the beach carrying rebar or a giant log on your shoulders 8 years ago and you're about to encounter 23 miles of sand. Add to the mix that every run you set out on the past couple of months has caused excruciating hip pain, and doubts start to fill your head.
I knew I could hike the majority of the 55 km in under 11 hours considering how flat the course was, but I wanted to run so badly. I signed up for weekly needling sessions with the amazing Jessie Wong at Physio Room. The majority of the time, I don't feel a thing and have to see the needles sticking out of me to believe they're actually in there. But the last two sessions my muscles danced (it still tickled and made me giggle). The night before I flew to Las Vegas, we went needle crazy. I could only hope that this would finally do the trick and get my hip and back loose enough to run 55 km through the desert. Another spoiler alert...it did!
The hardest thing to do when you travel carry-on and have to fly to a race is find a way to cram as many gels as possible, along with all of your toiletries, into that teeny tiny zip-loc bag. Thankfully, I have mastered the meager allowance from CATSA and am a carry-on packing machine. I think I managed to get a dozen gels in there. The biggest scare was getting the 'look' by US Customs at YVR when declaring my dates and bacon jerky. "Please don't take my bacon! It's for a race! I'm running 55 km through the desert and need that sweet, salty, smoky, delicious bacon!" Little did I know you can buy bacon jerky at the airport as soon as you clear US Customs. What?! And little did I know the amazing volunteers at Antelope Canyon Ultra would be frying up bacon all day long! Double what??!! I could probably do an entire blog post on the food offered up during this race.
#SQUIRREL! Has anyone else ever wondered why you don't hear more stories of trail runners being victims of serial killers? Think about it. "Oh! You're going to the race too? I'm from another country and not familiar with the area. Mind if I hop in the car with you, complete stranger, and travel across a state or two with you?" I always try to get some form of contact information/photo to give someone who might give a rat's ass if I did happen to disappear into some dark chamber or mass grave. But they could be anybody! Our logic though is as simple as "they're trail runners". Odds are pretty good that they're more concerned with how to get a beer on course (more on that later) and how much food they get to eat during the race. But trying to convince your people that don't run trails is not quite as easy as a simple "Don't worry Mom...He's a trail runner..." For this race, my mystery stranger was George, and it became "Don't worry *insert loved one, he's a teammate on Team Nuun! I'll be perfectly fine."
Back to the best race experience ever! George and I hit the road to Page, AZ early Friday morning. We drove through Nevada, Arizona, Utah, back to Arizona, back up to Utah, I lost track of where I was, then we were at Antelope Canyon for a tour. I am so utterly happy we decided to both do the 55 km race and tour Antelope Canyon the day before rather than run the 50 mile race which does in fact go through Antelope Canyon. Our guide was amazing, showing us exactly where and at what angle to hold our cameras to get the best photo. It was breathtaking. And by not racing through it, we were able to take it all in at a leisurely stroll in beautiful light.
Then it was off to get checked into the hotel and sort our drop bags (aka beer drop) before hitting the Race Expo. Can you believe I forgot to make a s'more at the S'mores Station? Who does that? Especially considering I can just sit my ass down on the sofa, prop my feet up, open up a bag of marshmallows and eat them like popcorn. I've even been known to try roasting them on the element of my stove...and it's electric. Alas, my only regret from Antelope Canyon 55 km is not making a s'more. ♫ If I could turn back time...♫
Race morning arrives and it's -1C at the start line. Did we time warp to Canada? Thankfully I just left these temperatures and it felt like Spring, so I quickly shed my jacket and threw it in my pack. Off we go! Normally in a race, I struggle the first 10 to 15 kms, easily able to come up with some lame excuse to quitting. This was the first time I have ever felt so positive throughout the entire race. It's amazing what keeping a positive attitude can do for your race. At one point, after running through about 18 miles of sand, I thought, ugh. sand. Then I immediately changed it to, "Yeah! This sand is awesommmmme!" Just like that, any negativity is gone again. And fueling. For the first time in history, I was sooooo on top of my calorie intake. Who would have thought eating would be an issue for me, but I've always seemed to just 'forget' to eat when I run. Not this time, baby. #eatallthefood
Throughout the morning I was oohing and ahhing at every turn. This race is pretty damn spectacular on the eyes. But when I got to Horseshoe Bend? Holy F*ck. Are you kidding me with these views?
Race morning arrives and it's -1C at the start line. Did we time warp to Canada? Thankfully I just left these temperatures and it felt like Spring, so I quickly shed my jacket and threw it in my pack. Off we go! Normally in a race, I struggle the first 10 to 15 kms, easily able to come up with some lame excuse to quitting. This was the first time I have ever felt so positive throughout the entire race. It's amazing what keeping a positive attitude can do for your race. At one point, after running through about 18 miles of sand, I thought, ugh. sand. Then I immediately changed it to, "Yeah! This sand is awesommmmme!" Just like that, any negativity is gone again. And fueling. For the first time in history, I was sooooo on top of my calorie intake. Who would have thought eating would be an issue for me, but I've always seemed to just 'forget' to eat when I run. Not this time, baby. #eatallthefood
Throughout the morning I was oohing and ahhing at every turn. This race is pretty damn spectacular on the eyes. But when I got to Horseshoe Bend? Holy F*ck. Are you kidding me with these views?
I met so many people in this race that hated the slickrock section after Horseshoe Bend. Coming from Vancouver, I loved it. I was on solid ground again and able to scamper along the rocks to the Waterholes Aid Station. There were quesadillas. QUESADILLAS!!! I was so giddy. I filled up my water, added my nuun tablets, grabbed my snacks and headed off to run through Waterholes Slot Canyon. The sand to this point had been much easier to run through than I had anticipated. Maybe due to the rain they had the previous week, or maybe it was because I had visions of the horses kicking up a sandstorm in Hidalgo. Note to self: You are not a horse. You don't run as fast as a horse. You don't even run as fast as a walking horse. This is not a movie with special effects.
The slot canyon was beautiful, but also the start of the deeper, looser sand. There was a couple running ahead of me and when I realized my power hike was keeping pace with them, I just stuck to walking, scrambling up onto the slickrock when possible. This next section heading back to Horseshoe Bend Aid felt so long. It was only 5 miles and I knew once I got there it was only 3 miles to Slickrock Aid, then just 2 more to Page Rim Aid, the start of the last 10 miles of single track where my beer sat as a reward for getting through all that sand. But that long sand road just didn't end. I kept seeing things ahead that could be the aid station, but they'd always end up being a parked trailer, shack, pretty much everything but the Horseshoe Bend Aid Station. And for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it looked like when I went through it over 3 hours ago. I ran back and forth down that long sandy road with a guy running his first ultra and a gal with the sandiest shoes I've ever seen. When she stopped, it was literally like watching a waterfall of sand come out of her shoes.
Finally I made it to Horseshoe Bend Aid for the second and final time. They had grilled cheezies. GRILLED CHEEZIES!!!! No wonder I was so on top of my fueling. Once again, I topped up my water, added my nuun, grabbed some watermelon and grilled cheezie and hiked out of there. I had the aid stations perfected throughout this race. Normally I stroll into aid, graze and chit chat up a storm until I finally get booted out of there. But at every Aid, I had a plan. It was almost like I was actually, you know, in a race. Top up my water, add the nuun and dump my empty gel packets in the trash. If it was Horseshoe Bend or Page Rim, both which I hit twice, pick up what I need from my drop bag, aka more fuel and more pre-halved nuun tablets, then drop off whatever I don't need anymore. And then the high point...see what's cooking under the tent.
Finally I made it to Horseshoe Bend Aid for the second and final time. They had grilled cheezies. GRILLED CHEEZIES!!!! No wonder I was so on top of my fueling. Once again, I topped up my water, added my nuun, grabbed some watermelon and grilled cheezie and hiked out of there. I had the aid stations perfected throughout this race. Normally I stroll into aid, graze and chit chat up a storm until I finally get booted out of there. But at every Aid, I had a plan. It was almost like I was actually, you know, in a race. Top up my water, add the nuun and dump my empty gel packets in the trash. If it was Horseshoe Bend or Page Rim, both which I hit twice, pick up what I need from my drop bag, aka more fuel and more pre-halved nuun tablets, then drop off whatever I don't need anymore. And then the high point...see what's cooking under the tent.
Two. More. Miles. Of. Sand. Hallefrickinglejah. I was ecstatic to cross that road into the parking lot I had left 6 hours ago and hike up that last little climb to the Page Rim Aid. My beer was 100 metres away. This entire race was one perfect moment after another. But this moment? Coming into Page Rim? Now that was a perfectly planned drop bag and a perfectly planned Aid visit. I was laughing and shouting for my beer as soon as I could see the amazing Volunteers cheering. I swung over to my drop bag and for the first time in 6 hours, sat my ass down and executed the perfect transition.
Leaving Page Rim Aid the first time, I felt like a brand new person. New socks. New shoes. 1 inch of beer. I felt refreshed and like I was just starting out, not having already run 23 miles. After a few miles of running on the beautiful, sand-free, runnable single-track, I could feel one of my quads starting to cramp. I had been on top of my hydration all race, running with Kona Cola & Cherry Limeade Nuun mixed with Nuun Plus, but I had also just spent almost 7 hours running. Odds are at some point cramping was bound to happen. I reached into my bag, grabbed half a Cherry Limeade Nuun tab, threw it in my mouth and started fizzing like Cujo. Worked like a charm, and in no time my leg stopped spasming and I was off running again, looking for the Lake Powell Aid that never seemed to appear.
- Open up that beautiful Klean Kanteen and drink that icy cold, fizzy Shocktop. I can still taste it.
- Shoes off. Socks off. My biggest surprise of the day. Not one grain of sand to be found. Thank you Nuun Teammate Sean for the tips!
- New socks on. New shoes on.
- Put the lid back on the beautiful, icy cold, fizzy beer so you can drink the last 3/4 of it in 10 miles.
- See what's cooking under the tent.
Leaving Page Rim Aid the first time, I felt like a brand new person. New socks. New shoes. 1 inch of beer. I felt refreshed and like I was just starting out, not having already run 23 miles. After a few miles of running on the beautiful, sand-free, runnable single-track, I could feel one of my quads starting to cramp. I had been on top of my hydration all race, running with Kona Cola & Cherry Limeade Nuun mixed with Nuun Plus, but I had also just spent almost 7 hours running. Odds are at some point cramping was bound to happen. I reached into my bag, grabbed half a Cherry Limeade Nuun tab, threw it in my mouth and started fizzing like Cujo. Worked like a charm, and in no time my leg stopped spasming and I was off running again, looking for the Lake Powell Aid that never seemed to appear.
Finally a sign beckoned to the left. Yahoo! After this Aid Station, there was just 10 km to go until I had my beer back in hand. So left I turned. Wait. What? What the F*ck is this sand? YOU TOLD ME THERE WAS NO MORE SAND!! 200 metres and I was at the glorious Lake Powell Aid Station and all I could smell was bacon. BACON!!! Nothing has ever smelled so delicious in my entire life. Sadly I had hit that point where food is no longer appetizing, so no bacon or dill pickles for me. Instead it was watermelon and gingerale! Take my dirty cup into the tent to get washed, banter with the Volunteers about forgetting to change my Canadian watch to miles, then off to the sounds of GO CANADIAN GIRL!
7 miles to go. With only 3 miles to go my watch died. And so began the longest 3 miles of my life. There was now a handful of us running together, yet apart. We'd pass each other, get passed by each other, for the next 3 miles. Some of us bantering, some of us staying silent, but all of us knowing we were so damn close. For once in my life, I pulled ahead, and was the first to see the Page Rim Aid Station. I almost turned around and started jumping up and down to let them all know, but...well...beer. My beer was there. Sorry guys. Knowing once I get to the Aid there was less than 1 mile to go, I knew there was no point in doing anything but getting my beer, checking in my bib number, yelling Thank You to everyone, and getting the hell out of there. Klean Kanteen in the back pouch of my pack and I was bombing down that sand dune-y hill screaming YEAHHHH DOWNHILL! Down the hill, around the parking lot, into the sand. F*ck me. More sand? Over the bridge to the finish! BOOYAH! 9:08:43.3. Cracked open my Kanteen, which kind of exploded all over me, and oh so sweet delicious Shocktop in my belly. Repping Team Nuun for another year, it was so awesome to have the first words I hear be, "Hey! Team Nuun!" Congrats on 3rd place in the 50 miler after that detour, Don.
There were a couple moments after leaving that last Aid Station where I fought the tears. I was just so overwhelmed at how perfect the entire day went. I could feel my hip tightening up in the first couple hours, then it just vanished. (Thank you Jessie, KT Tape and Acetaminophin.) My outlook throughout all 9 hours was through rose-coloured glasses. I was upbeat, happy, pain-free, and so in awe of all the beauty surrounding me. Nothing could have made this day better.
Thank you Jessie, Andrew & Kati at Physio Room for allowing me to continue doing what I love. Thank you George for not only telling me about this amazing race, but telling me if I can get to Vegas, I can hop in the car with you. And then being a tour guide for me when we got back to Vegas, even when we both were fighting colds and feeling like crap. Best grilled cheese sandwich I've ever had. Thank you Nuun for supporting clean sport and creating such an awesome product. It is so incredible to be supported by a company that has everyone's back, whether you're a podium finisher or the last person to crawl over a finish line. You celebrate every damn one of us equally and it's so amazing. Thank you Team Nuun for being the most supportive group of athletes I've ever been a part of. Thank you Jane & Alice for all the insight into this race from a North Vancouver Trail Runner's perspective. Thank you fellow Nuunie Sean for the best sand running tips on the planet. NO SAND in my shoes!! Thank you We Run Mas for being the coolest group of whackos anyone could run with on a regular basis. And thank you to all my friends and family who have my back through thick and thin.
Bryce Canyon Ultra in June 2018 anybody?
Antelope Canyon 55 km
Gear: Oiselle Long Rogas, Kari Traa long-sleeve merino, IceBreaker merino tank, Inov8 Ultra 270's & Pearl Izumi N1 Trails, Darn Tough & Swiftwick socks, Compressport sleeves, Dirty Girl Gaiters, Salomon S-Lab 12 Pack, nuun Boco hat, Sun & Ski sunnies
Hydration: Nuun Kona Cola & Cherry Limeade and Nuun Plus, Shocktop ;)
Fuel: Huma gels, Endurance Tap, quesadillas and grilled cheezies and watermelon, oh my!
Lessons Learned
Fueling every 30 minutes is KEY
Just because you can run 55 km in the sand untrained does NOT mean you should enter every race with this attitude
Arizona is Fuck*ng beautiful
Grilled Cheezies and Quesadillas in a race are also amazing!
Drop bags are handy, especially if you plan on having a beer on course. And one should ALWAYS have a beer on course.
Booby out.
7 miles to go. With only 3 miles to go my watch died. And so began the longest 3 miles of my life. There was now a handful of us running together, yet apart. We'd pass each other, get passed by each other, for the next 3 miles. Some of us bantering, some of us staying silent, but all of us knowing we were so damn close. For once in my life, I pulled ahead, and was the first to see the Page Rim Aid Station. I almost turned around and started jumping up and down to let them all know, but...well...beer. My beer was there. Sorry guys. Knowing once I get to the Aid there was less than 1 mile to go, I knew there was no point in doing anything but getting my beer, checking in my bib number, yelling Thank You to everyone, and getting the hell out of there. Klean Kanteen in the back pouch of my pack and I was bombing down that sand dune-y hill screaming YEAHHHH DOWNHILL! Down the hill, around the parking lot, into the sand. F*ck me. More sand? Over the bridge to the finish! BOOYAH! 9:08:43.3. Cracked open my Kanteen, which kind of exploded all over me, and oh so sweet delicious Shocktop in my belly. Repping Team Nuun for another year, it was so awesome to have the first words I hear be, "Hey! Team Nuun!" Congrats on 3rd place in the 50 miler after that detour, Don.
There were a couple moments after leaving that last Aid Station where I fought the tears. I was just so overwhelmed at how perfect the entire day went. I could feel my hip tightening up in the first couple hours, then it just vanished. (Thank you Jessie, KT Tape and Acetaminophin.) My outlook throughout all 9 hours was through rose-coloured glasses. I was upbeat, happy, pain-free, and so in awe of all the beauty surrounding me. Nothing could have made this day better.
Thank you Jessie, Andrew & Kati at Physio Room for allowing me to continue doing what I love. Thank you George for not only telling me about this amazing race, but telling me if I can get to Vegas, I can hop in the car with you. And then being a tour guide for me when we got back to Vegas, even when we both were fighting colds and feeling like crap. Best grilled cheese sandwich I've ever had. Thank you Nuun for supporting clean sport and creating such an awesome product. It is so incredible to be supported by a company that has everyone's back, whether you're a podium finisher or the last person to crawl over a finish line. You celebrate every damn one of us equally and it's so amazing. Thank you Team Nuun for being the most supportive group of athletes I've ever been a part of. Thank you Jane & Alice for all the insight into this race from a North Vancouver Trail Runner's perspective. Thank you fellow Nuunie Sean for the best sand running tips on the planet. NO SAND in my shoes!! Thank you We Run Mas for being the coolest group of whackos anyone could run with on a regular basis. And thank you to all my friends and family who have my back through thick and thin.
Bryce Canyon Ultra in June 2018 anybody?
Antelope Canyon 55 km
Gear: Oiselle Long Rogas, Kari Traa long-sleeve merino, IceBreaker merino tank, Inov8 Ultra 270's & Pearl Izumi N1 Trails, Darn Tough & Swiftwick socks, Compressport sleeves, Dirty Girl Gaiters, Salomon S-Lab 12 Pack, nuun Boco hat, Sun & Ski sunnies
Hydration: Nuun Kona Cola & Cherry Limeade and Nuun Plus, Shocktop ;)
Fuel: Huma gels, Endurance Tap, quesadillas and grilled cheezies and watermelon, oh my!
Lessons Learned
Fueling every 30 minutes is KEY
Just because you can run 55 km in the sand untrained does NOT mean you should enter every race with this attitude
Arizona is Fuck*ng beautiful
Grilled Cheezies and Quesadillas in a race are also amazing!
Drop bags are handy, especially if you plan on having a beer on course. And one should ALWAYS have a beer on course.
Booby out.