Brazos Bend 50-miler

I've been negligent in keeping up with this blog lately. I have had several great races since last August and some tough ones too. Yesterday's race was a fun one and I actually took the time to stop for some photos so I figure it's a good opportunity to document another race.

The Brazos Bend 50 mile trail run is a first-year event put on by Rob Goyen of the Houston Area Trail Runners. They are a group I get along well with and I could tell in the months leading up to this race, that Rob was preparing for a quality event so I wanted in. The race takes place at Brazos Bend State Park, which is about 45 minutes southwest of where I live. the state park is a swampy wildlife refuge and it is known primarily for the alligators that you are all but guaranteed to see if the weather is warm. Well let me tell you the weather was warm and the gators were out in numbers. I have run an unrelated 50k out there a few years ago so I knew most of the park trails pretty well.

I woke up at 4AM on race morning after going to bed early, got dressed, grabbed my gear, and hit the road for the 45 minute drive. My race started at 6AM and there was also a 50k, 25k, and 10k race that started an hour later. I got to the park with 45 minutes to spare and I got a great parking spot. I set up my drop bag and a chair and then I caught up with some friends while we waited for 6AM to arrive. Rob runs a tight ship and the race went off promptly at 6:00 with a 10 second countdown to the race. The horn went off and we all went shuffling off into the darkness.

The trails at BB are forgiving and the course is very very flat. It's a great race for a road runner to make the jump to an ultra and for trail runners to set some new time records for themselves. I didn't feel like my fitness was fully up to a 50-mile PR, so I had decided to start in the back of the pack and just kind of go with the flow and see how I felt. I didn't have a time goal, but I would have been happy with a 10:xx hour range for a finish. I don't think I glanced much at my pace for the first five miles or so. I just ran by feel. This is a good thing and it can also be a bad thing since my excitement sometimes gets the better of me. But I didn't see the harm since I had no agenda for the race. If I burned myself out, I'd just walk in the last of it. The 14 hour time cutoff was certainly generous enough for me to do that if needed.

The sun came up around 6:45 and the sky was overcast with a cool but humid mist drifting out of the swampy woods. The best description for the park I can think of is to imagine movies or shows that take place in the Louisiana swamp. There are lots of oak trees with Spanish moss hanging down. The trail itself was completely dry, but we ran along swampy lakes with lily pads and green algae on the surface. Bullfrogs croaked and cranes called out in the early dawn light as we ran silently by. There were some conversations, but most people seemed content to take in the natural beauty of the environment and set the pace for the long day ahead.

The first loop was fairly uneventful. The weather was comfortable. The aid stations were well-stocked, and I kept to my routine of taking a salt pill every hour and an Amrita bar as well. I drank a lot of Gatorade to keep hydrated since the humidity made me sweat so much. My clothes were soaked and dripping within two hours. Not a lot of big wildlife was out and visible in the morning since it was so overcast and the alligators tend to come out with the sun. There were a lot of birds, especially long-legged cranes stepping through the marsh looking for breakfast.

I fell into a fast but comfortable pace and struck up a conversation with a lady from the UK named Rosemary who had just moved to down from the UAE. We chatted about cultural differences and various races we had done. She is training for a 100-miler in England in June and it was in this conversation that I came to learn that giving out belt buckles for 100 mile finishes is apparently an American thing. I had no idea, but I suppose it makes sense.

1st gator of the day. You can kind of sort of see it in the water.

The first loop finished and the second loop started. I dropped off my headlamp and traded out to my cowboy hat, which has become a staple of my running gear. It makes people smile, it gets comments, it keeps the sun off my head better than a baseball cap, and it's extremely comfortable. The straw hat is ventilated and the elastic band doesn't irritate me even when I sweat. My pace for the first loop was under ten minutes per mile, which was much faster than I planned to run. The thing about it was that I felt great and I knew that I was willing to drop down in speed as soon as I felt I was working too hard.

The second loop was still overcast, but day had broken and some of the wildlife was out. Several people were almost giddy about seeing an alligator on the course so the first one we came across caused several runners to stop for photos. I didn't worry about it because he was too far away for a good photo and I knew there would be dozens more before the day was done. About midway through the second loop, the clouds started misting on us. Not rain, but just a gentle mist and a cool breeze. This kind of thing never happens during my races. It was almost too good to be true. Needless to say, all of the racers loved it and we carried right on running in high spirits.

Around the 4th hour is when I made my first mistake of the day and I knew I was making it, but I did it anyway. I'd had three of the Amrita bars already, but I had not been supplementing it with different flavors and because of that, I started getting tired of the sweet pineapple chia flavor. I can get away with this for a while, but I also had not been drinking Gatorade and had been refilling my bottle with water instead. That meant I wasn't getting any calories at all and that's bad news. So I had a bar on the third hour and skipped the fourth hour (although I did stay on top of my salt pills throughout the day) and kept on running hard with Rosemary. Something had to give and of course it did. We made it through 30 miles in under five hours and I felt like I was working pretty hard for a guy with 20 miles left to run so I sent her on ahead and dropped off my pace. Within a few minutes, I realized I was bonking, or hitting the wall. Whatever you like to call it, that's what was happening. I also knew how to fix it, but I wasn't too excited about it. I took a walk break for a few minutes while I force-fed myself another Amrita bar and washed it down with water. I love those bars, but I was overdoing it with them and it wasn't much fun. The trick worked and within five minutes or so, I could feel the sugar in my system and the energy coming back to my legs. I was done with sub-10:00 miles for the day, though. I trotted along at 11:30 pace or so, which is still quite fast under the circumstances.

A little later, as I was running by one of the swamps, I saw some non-racing visitors stopped by the shore looking into the water so I stopped to check it out. There was an 8-foot alligator two feet out from the shore rolling lazily in the water. It looked like he was playing. He would stick his head up, then roll over slowly and look over at us again. This shot was too good to pass up so I snapped a photo.

They see me rollin' - They hatin'

You'd think such a big lizard so close by might give you pause, but it all seemed so natural. We came to an agreement that if I stayed out of his domain, he would stay in it and that seemed to work fine for both of us. I found out later that part of the race was briefly interrupted when a gator crossed the race course and lounged on the trail while the runners had to stand around frowning at their watches and the alligator didn't give a damn. Maybe he was just letting everyone know whose house it was.

I trotted my way through the rest of the second loop and found several friends waiting for me at the finish line, only I wasn't finished. I swapped out a few more supplies, exchanged some high fives and off I went for my third and final loop. I was feeling the fatigue and the hard-run miles of the morning and that's when the sun decided to come out and it got HOT. With the sun and the heat came the reptiles. The first one I saw was a fat cottonmouth moving across the trail like a thick wavy black stripe. I tried to get close enough for a good photo, but he slithered off into the grass and I wasn't about to go in after him. But not to worry, it wasn't long before I came across this beauty right on the side of the trail and he happily posed for my photo.

He may have found it fun to be lazy, but I had work to do and the miles on the third loop were going by so slowly that I felt like I was going to be out there all day. I shuffled into one of the aid stations and they asked me what I needed. I said, "I need some calories, but I don't want to eat anything." The girl at the station knew exactly what I meant so she made my choices for me. She handed me a little cup of pickles. "You'll eat this," and I did. Then she handed me a small tin of Pringles. "And also this," and I did. Then while a volunteer was filling up my bottle with Gatorade, she dropped a quarter of a PB&J sandwich in the tin and told me to eat that too. And I did. Pickles, Pringles, and PB&J. What the hell!? But it did the trick of course just like she knew it would and off I went feeling better than when I arrived.

My travel and running buddy Chris was out there on his mountain bike cruising along the course greeting several people he knew and I must have run into him five times along the race. It was always fun to see a friendly face when you are exhausted. I took a moment at a station and slowly grazed while I stretched my lower back. Come to think of it, I did a lot of standing around during this race between the various aid station stops and stopping for photos. I probably spent close to ten minutes not moving, which isn't really a good thing.

With about ten miles to go, I ran across this kid and we fell in together to chat. Well, he wasn't exactly a kid, but he looked to be in his early/mid 20s and he was running with nothing more than a water bottle full of Gatorade. I don't understand it, but apparently it worked for him. he really helped carry me by talking and my pace fell back into low 11 minute pace, which made the miles tick by much faster. As we got to about mile 44, I developed this system where we would run until I hit the next mile alert on my watch and then we would walk for a minute while I drank as much as I could and ate something. Then off we went to run to the next mile alert. This ended up being a really great system for me and he seemed content to hang out while I was doing it.

45, 46, the last aid station, 47, 48, 49 and soon we could see the finish line and, as always, finish line magic kicks in and you never feel tired once the line is within sight. We ran across and I stopped my Garmin. Despite stopping for about ten minutes in total, and despite the brutal heat and humidity that the winter had made all of us forget, I somehow managed to take 18 minutes off my previous 50 mile personal best and come across at 9:19:05. Not too shabby for a race I wasn't going to work hard at. The flat course was certainly a benefit to me, but I maintain that this was the toughest 50-miler I've run to date.

There were some other pictures I stopped to take along the way to really appreciate the atmosphere and wildlife of the park. It's a beautiful park and a great place for running. Rob puts on a top-class event and I'm already signed up to come back in December for their 100-miler. It should be a lot of fun and this is a great candidate for me going sub-24 on a 100-miler. That's a long way away though, so I'll tell that story after it happens.

Area 51 Extra Terrestrial Midnight Marathon & 51k

Finding an interesting race or adventure around my father’s birthday has become a tradition I get to look forward to nearly every August. We've gone skydiving, river rafting, climbed Mt. Elbert, and run a marathon in Iceland. So when he told me about the Area 51 Extra Terrestrial Midnight Marathon/Half/51k, it seemed like the perfect addition for this year. Interestingly, it was also my third trip this summer to the American southwest desert. Grand Canyon was in May. Death Valley was in July. And now Nevada would be August. I’m completely in love with the desert. I don’t know if I would want to move there, but I could be happy living and running in the desert. Some people would use the word ‘desolate’. I prefer the word ‘solitude’. One of my running friends, David Holmen, ran this race last year and he was coming back again this time to run the marathon distance. Dad and I met David in Iceland back in 2011 and he keeps me in the loop with his (almost weekly) marathon reports from around the world. I looked forward to the chance to see him again and catch up over a pre-race dinner.

I’ve done quite a few 50k races, but this was my first 51k race.  I never took the time to think about it beforehand, but there were some other firsts as well that definitely played into the experience I had out in the desert on the night of August 18th, 2013. I had dreams of setting a new 50k PR since this was a road race and I went into it pretty well-rested with strong legs from six months of quality running in 2013, but there were also some mitigating factors that made me think this may not be the race for me to go full-out on.  First off, it’s a fun race and I didn’t want to miss out on the experience of the Nevada desert and the various people dressing up in alien costumes. It's also a 51k race instead of a 50k race, meaning that I'd have to run even faster to break my record. This was also a hilly course at altitude.  Ok, so 4500’ may not count as altitude for some people, but I live about 30’ above sea level. And truth be told, there was only one hill, but it was a 1000’ hill and it was 13 miles long right out of the gate. There was also the very big fact that I failed to take into account that the midnight race would be starting when I had already been awake for 18 hours.

And then there was the broken toe.

The day of the race, I somehow managed to break my pinky toe on the bed frame at the hotel. It was annoying as hell and as it swelled up, I wasn't sure how much that would affect my running, but that pretty much solidified my decision to just take this race easy and enjoy myself rather than going hard for a record.  Only hours before the race, I found out that one of my Internet running friends, Libby Jones from the Dallas area, was also in town for this race and also running the 51k. With thoughts of attempting a PR out the window, I opted to run with her for some company and to catch up in person. This was a good choice. We are both chatty runners and we had no shortage of conversation.  Sometimes I wonder what other runners around me think when I’m running with someone and holding a casual conversation about this or that. I figure if it bothers someone, they will either get away from us or ask us to be quiet.  That’s fair.

After a long bus ride out into the middle of nowhere, the buses stopped to unload the marathon and 51k runners.  The half marathon and 10k runners would have their start further up the road. I said goodbye to dad as the buses drove on ahead of us and I hung out with Libby and Dave to wait for the midnight start.  Dave took his position toward the front of the pack and Libby and I dropped way back as we took off.  Sure enough, the hill crept up on us early.  In the dark, it’s not obvious that you are running uphill, but you feel it.  You also feel the air get a bit thinner as you approach a mile of altitude. The night was clear and the moon was nearly full (technically a waxing gibbous moon) and the stars were amazing as they always are when you are out in the desert in the middle of nowhere.

Unfortunately, most of the wildlife we saw wasn't really alive.  Huge jackrabbit carcasses littered the road where they had lost battles with oncoming vehicles and we even saw a dead desert fox. Finally, my bright headlamp caught a glimpse of a living rabbit bounding off into the brush and we satisfied ourselves that we had, in fact, seen some desert wildlife.

We started seeing the mile markers for the half marathon right around our own mile 7. The half marathon runners were dropped here so that they can finish at the general store in the tiny town of Rachel, Nevada. Actually, everyone finishes there, but the marathon and 51k runners have to overshoot it, then run out to a turnaround and come back to town to finish.

We crested the hill as we moved through a mountain pass just past mile 13 and then we began our slow descent for the next ten miles. My broken toe had not been bothering me at all up to this point, but you run differently on the downhill and I could feel it throbbing a bit. I played with my gait to try to find a stride that worked without running strange.  Favoring a sore spot is a sure-fire way to destroy your legs over the course of a long run and I wanted to avoid that if possible. Throughout the race up to this point, Libby and I held a 12:00, to 13:00 per mile pace, which was comfortable for both of us.  We sorted out our water and salt intake as we went and the fact that I had to take a few quick bathroom breaks on the side of the road told me I was drinking enough. I ate a little bit too and my nutritional intake felt pretty spot-on.

Just before the course leveled out around mile 20, I flashed my headlamp across the ground in front of us and I jumped when I nearly stepped on a HUGE tarantula. It startled me, but it didn't put the fear in me the way almost stepping on a snake does (and that has happened far more times than I'd like to admit). I was fascinated so I stopped and went back to look at it.  I should have taken a photo.  Before we went on, I yelled back to some runners 30 seconds or so behind me to watch their step for the giant spider.  I don’t get to say that often enough in everyday conversation. Libby was hanging tough, but she was starting to get a little bit of an unsettled stomach so by the time we hit Rachel and the aid station, she stopped off for a moment to sort herself out and sent me ahead alone.  That’s when I decided to see what my legs had left in them. It was also right around the point where the course flattens out for the remainder of the race.

So at mile 22 with 11 miles to go and already being thoroughly exhausted, I turned on my workout playlist, turned off my headlamp (the almost-full moon was so bright I could see just fine without it) and stretched my legs to see what kind of juice I had left in me. Pat Benatar’s “Shadows of the Night” came up on random and I cannot imagine a more perfect song at 4AM on a lonely highway in the Nevada desert. I rocked out and my pace dropped below 9:00 in the course of about ten strides. I had no idea how long I could sustain it, but I felt incredible. My broken toe was completely forgotten as I charged on, flying by walker after walker and throwing out exclamatory support to every runner I passed coming or going. I wanted all of them to see me whiz by and think, “Damn that guy must be feeling great,” because I was.

I hit the aid station at the marathon turnaround at mile 23 and the attendant asked me “Marathon or Ultra?” I yelled out Ultra and probably threw up the devil horns or something equally ridiculous as I ran by without stopping for water. I had stayed on top of my water consumption as well as my salt and even calories up to that point and I felt like I could get away with traveling light for the next few miles.  The road was straight and mostly flat and far ahead in the darkness I could see the red and blue lights of a police cruiser parked at the 51k turnaround. It seemed like it was a world away. My pace stayed strong, though. I watched my mile splits tick off in the low 9s and sometimes in the 8:xx per mile range.

I pride myself on my workout playlist. It’s almost entirely 70s and 80s rock and power metal with a few extras thrown in.  Despite the fact that it is over 11 hours long, I can be pretty sure that any song that pops up on random will be just what I need to keep going. Pat Benatar, Rainbow, Van Halen, Yes, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Boston, Metallica. I hit the final turnaround and thanked the volunteer. I could see a smudge of purple over the eastern mountains and I knew daylight was just around the corner. The temperature was in the low 60s and the cool breeze felt great on my hot arms and legs. I love the fact that I can sweat properly in the desert, unlike in Texas where I sweat and the moisture just sticks to me until it gets thick enough to run down my legs and soak my socks and shoes.  Out here you sweat, it evaporates, and you cool off.

Solitude was the name of the game as I passed a runner every few minutes until I hit the marathon turnaround and then I started seeing a lot more of the runners trickling in. By this point, everyone had turned off their headlamps and the spectacle of a beautiful desert morning raised most peoples’ spirits. At least it seemed to judging by the smiles and cheerful greetings we shared with each other.

You can see miles ahead of you once the sun comes up.

As daybreak came upon us, I could see the small town of Rachel three miles in the distance and the buildings that marked the finish line. The faster pace was making me tired, but I figured I could gut it out for another half hour. The sooner I was done, the sooner I could rest. And so it went, I picked off runner after runner except for one guy who seemed to be dead set on not letting me pass him.  I slowly crept up to him and we chatted a bit and it was obvious he still had a burst of speed left in him. As he took off, I wished him well and told him I’d see him at the finish. When I could see the final mile marker a little ways ahead, the playlist switched to Kashmir. It’s a slow song, but it has a great building rhythm and it will forever be associated with hill workouts. It seemed an appropriate tune to end my day on. I passed the mile marker, turned right into the parking lot, and crossed the line doing a little dance.

I got cold pretty quickly once my body cooled down. My shirt was still very wet from the sweat, but I had thought to bring a spare shirt in my pack and I also had my nifty Brooks running jacket with me the whole time.  It weighs almost nothing and it had proven its value on my Grand Canyon double crossing.  I put it on and I stayed comfortable.  I met up with dad and we chatted about our races.  He was very happy with his result.  Apparently the race director had singled him out at the start of the race since it was his birthday. We took a few photos of the alien kitsch around the general store and then sat down to wait for our buses. I was hoping Libby would finish before we got on the 7AM bus, but she had not come in yet and I just didn’t have the energy to wait around any longer. I even skipped breakfast.  All I wanted was a hot shower and some sleep.  I had been away for right around 24 hours when I crossed the finish line and it hit me all at once when I sat on the bus for the two and a half hour ride back through the desert to Vegas.

This is pretty much the entirety of Rachel, Nevada.

All in all, I consider it a success.  I had a great birthday with my dad. I got to meet some old friends again. I got to participate in a very well-run race in an exotic location.  About the only thing I missed out on was a UFO sighting.

Here’s the Garmin log.

Pacing Badwater 2013

Prologue:

Yeah but it's a dry heat.

Tammy Massie was accepted into the 2013 Badwater Ultramarathon. I've known Tammy for a few years and I always said that if one of my friends was accepted, I was up for crewing. I regretted this a few times during those two days, but in hindsight, I am so glad I did it.

I flew into Las Vegas on Saturday morning and met up with Tammy, along with Susana, Tammy’s sister Cindy, Tammy’s husband Tristan, Tammy’s father Tom, and Henri and Diane. While waiting at the car rental office, I saw a number of other competitors come and go with their crews in tow, along with numerous coolers. It felt like a theme. We rented our cars and headed out to Sweet Tomatoes for a light lunch and pre-race discussions before we left for Death Valley. It was here where Tammy showed us all her preferred way of making icy bandannas, which is going to become a staple of my own hot weather running equipment. After that it was a quick stop by Whole Foods for miscellaneous food for the week and then off we went into the desert for the long drive to Death Valley.

Along the way, we took stock of the things Tammy had brought in preparation for the race. Tammy is nothing if not prepared. If there was something she thought she might need, she had three of it. Tammy also had a checklist for each of the 135 miles with predicted nutritional intake, and spaces to note her food, water and medicine intake as well as any notes on her condition. Tammy had a good breakdown of coolers for storing ice, for filling bottles and bandannas, for storing cool food, and for storing frozen food.

The weather for the race was supposed to be hot. Really hot. I knew it was going to be tough and all I could do was hope that my heat acclimation was acceptable for what I was about to embark on. Looking back, I had no clue what I was in for..

As we finally dropped into Death Valley, it was already late afternoon on Saturday and the open desolation of the place was both beautiful and overwhelming. Our route took us by Badwater basin, which is the lowest spot in the western hemisphere at 282 below sea level. This is also where the race starts. We stopped to get out and take photos and that’s when I got my first reality check.

This is only a tiny portion of what Tammy had

The hot air hit me and I stepped into the sun and I got scared. I had never been in air this hot. It quite literally felt like I was in a sauna. I looked at my watch and decided I wasn't going to spend more than 10 minutes in the sun without protection. I could feel it cooking me from the moment I stepped out. I went down to the Badwater sign to get a picture, but it wasn't pleasant. How was I supposed to pace a runner for two afternoons of this? I couldn't let the team down, but this was far worse than I had expected. A dry 110 feels roughly equal to a wet 100 Texas summer day. I could handle that.  But when you get into the high one-teens, it’s just different. There was nothing to compare it to. I was pretty discouraged and worried for the 17 mile drive to Furnace Creek where we checked in for the weekend.

We got to the Furnace Creek resort and all of a sudden I had five bars of AT&T signal. I also had access to pleasantly fast Wi-Fi. We settled into our rooms and I roomed with Tammy's father Tom. That evening, we unpacked and then split into little groups. Several people went to the pool. I cooled off and then went with Tristan down to the restaurant for dinner. Once the sun went down, the temperature dropped into the low 90s and the stars came out. Light pollution in Death Valley is minimal and the cloudless night sky was filled with stars and a half moon. I love a star-filled night sky and this was one of the better ones I've seen.

Me with Rich Roll

Sunday was spent prepping the vehicles and attending the pre-race meeting.  This was my first opportunity to see all the other racers, some of whom I had known about for years, but never gotten to see in person. Navy SEAL Dave Goggins was there.  Marshall Ulrich was present, of course. My friend Rich Roll was there not as a racer, but as part of the crew for Dean Karnazes. There were runners from all over the world. Some looked like you would expect someone to look like who was about to run 135 miles in the desert, but most of them looked pretty normal to me.

Me with Dean.  He's so little!

We finished setting up the car and when all the preparations were made, we called it a night and got ready for the race to come with the morning light.

Race Day 1:

I waited around by the road at Furnace Creek (mile 17) for any sign of Tammy or her crew vehicle. Tristan and Tom came out to watch with me as the early speedsters started to trickle into the first check-in station. It was only about 10am and the temperature was already approaching 110 degrees, but the sky was overcast, so there was hope that maybe we might catch a break this year.

As the runners came through, I recognized a few names on the sides of the crew vehicles. Shannon Farrar-Griefer was the first woman to double Badwater, meaning she ran the entire course, then turned around and ran back to the start. Her crew seemed to consist of a bunch of college girls in tiny tiny shorts. It certainly caught the eye.

Eventually, Tammy's crew van pulled up with Cindy and Susana inside. As we waited for Tammy, they gave me a quick rundown of their strategy so far: They would pull about a mile down the road and wait for Tammy. Tammy would say what she wanted and they would give it to her, then when everything was clear, they pulled ahead.  And so it would go on like this, leapfrogging the runner a tiny bit at a time for 135 miles.

It's Cindy in the desert.

As Tammy arrived, I grabbed my Frog Tog cooling shoulder wrap which had been soaking in the water and I felt the coolness immediately.  I threw on another layer of spray-on sunscreen, grabbed a hand spray bottle and trotted off after Tammy.  Well, maybe “trotted” is an ambitious term.  We primarily walked, although Tammy walks briskly. It didn't really matter, though.  18-20 minutes per mile would see her through to the finish well under the cutoff and there was a lot of road ahead of us, so walking suited us just fine.

Tammy would walk and we would chat.  I would pump the bug spray bottle and spray her down with a cooling water mist every few minutes. I had on my hydration vest and it was suited for carrying her excess bottles so that she could keep her hands free and minimize her burden. Unlike most races, the pacer is allowed to carry the runner’s equipment. Badwater plays by its own rules.

Tammy wanted to rotate pacers every hour or so in order to keep us fresh and to constantly change up the stimulus she was getting along the way. I think this was a good policy and it largely worked, although an hour in the heat felt like forever and an hour in the car felt like no time at all. After a little over three miles, my hour was up and it was time to rotate pacers. Cindy got out of the car and I got in and Susana brought me up to speed on how crewing worked. Another hour went by and Cindy rotated in and Susana went out to pace. By this point, it was early afternoon and it was getting HOT. The morning cloud cover had burned away and there wasn't a shadow to be found. Temperatures were above 120 degrees and that is when we had our first casualty.

The heat took a toll on Susana, who found herself struggling to keep up with Tammy.  She and Cindy had already been working for about six hours at that point and the heat compounded the fatigue of all the crew work she had been doing. Once we got her back in the car, we decided that Susana would work the rest of her shift as crew instead of pacer. This really didn't throw our strategy off by much and Cindy and I picked up the pacing and driving slack since we now had a dedicated equipment/food/water prepper. At 2pm, Cindy and Susana rolled off their shift and Henri and Diane came on as I stuck around for my second shift of the day. I was four hours in and feeling pretty good.  Having run twice already and knowing it was the heat of the day, I really wanted to go last in the rotation and let some fresh legs pound the pavement for a while. Henri went first while I caught Diane up on our crew routine.

During this time, Tammy had been steadily moving forward. The second check-in was at Stovepipe Wells (mile 42). The entire course had been pretty flat up to this point and the hardest thing was definitely the heat. Tammy's demands were pretty low. Every mile we would give her a new icy bandanna, plenty of water, and some sort of sports drink depending on what she wanted. There was a lot of food, but she really wasn't eating a lot of it yet despite being eight hours into her race. Henri finished his hour of pacing and Diane took over. While we were a mile up waiting for Diane and Tammy to run up on us, a race official car pulled off to the shoulder in front of us and Diane steps out of it. It turns out she had been carrying so much stuff for Tammy that it had become a bit of a hassle to stay up on her own drinking and with very little warning, the sun knocked her down. Diane is no rookie runner. She has done several 100 mile ultras herself and she is a race director. It just goes to show how fast the sun can smack you down if you slip just a little.

I'm trying to eat a hummus and avocado sandwich in the middle of a sandstorm.

Eventually Tammy caught up to us and she was very worried about Diane. She told us she would be fine to run solo for a while and that we should put Diane in the car and drive around for 45 minutes with the air conditioner on. I should point out that while crewing, the car is idling so often and so much time is spent with car doors open that air conditioning is completely ineffective and is not used. So yeah, we’re all out in the desert inside a car with no AC running nearly the full time.

I truly believe that Diane would have been fine after a brief rest and recoup where I took a turn pacing and then Henri did as well, but Tammy was pretty freaked out by it and demanded that Diane was to do no more pacing. There’s no point in stressing out the runner by arguing with her, so we decided the best thing to do was for Henri and I to each take a turn pacing and then the sun would be down and we could make another appeal to Tammy once the heat was lower. We did end up doing this and Diane was fine to pace that night.

I also ran into a little bit of a scare around 9 or 10pm where I felt like my kidneys didn't feel quite right and I had a little bit of nausea. After having Rhabdomyolysis at a 100 miler last year, I am always very sensitive to my kidney health. I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, the discomfort was a 1 or a 2, which is to say it was extremely minor, but I was troubled that I noticed it at all. Tammy elected to run solo again for the last half hour of the time I was allotted for pacing.  Luckily, this turned out to be a false alarm for me and after sitting in the van for a few minutes, I realized I had just bonked due to not taking in enough calories over the course of a long hot day.  I had been eating and drinking almost nonstop, but my eating was more like grazing here and there with no real thought to the day in general.  After nibbling on some cashews and one of my Amrita bars, the nausea went away and within ten minutes, I felt recharged and ready to pace again.

Panamint Springs' biggest claim to fame--outrageous gas prices

By the time midnight rolled around, Tammy had been on the road for 18 hours. I had been on crew for 14 hours and I was beat. I felt that my usefulness was questionable for the last few hours, but I wanted to try to pull my weight. Just after midnight, Cindy and Susana drove up to relieve us for the night. We weren’t due back until 8 the next morning.  We jumped in the car and drove up to Panamint Springs (mile 72). We arrived at Panamint around 1am, just in time to see ultrarunning legend Dean Karnazes come running through with his crew in tow. A quick shower and a short 4 hour nap later and the sun was back up and Tammy had passed through in the night. We had breakfast at Panamint and then hopped in the car to chase her down and start our shift once more as her crew.

Race Day 2:

We reached Tammy just as she was nearing Father Crowley Point at mile 80. This is the second of the three major climbs on the course. Having reached the top, now there would be a bit of downhill and the long flat run through the Town Lake basin. Another decision was made that Cindy and Diane should switch shifts. Cindy, who had worked through the night would stay on for a second shift and Diane would sit out during the day to come on for the second evening. Diane wasn't happy about this as she and Henri were used to working together, but we were this far into the race and she agreed to the compromise. For the record, I feel that Diane would have been fine to work the day shift, but again, it's all about putting the runner at ease and I recognized that.

The race start was 17 miles beyond Furnace Creek.

A flag to offend both Americans and Canadians.

So the Day 2 morning shift became me, Cindy, and Henri. I jumped into pacing duty to give Cindy a break since she had already been going all night. Tammy and I ran for a while and I took stock of her physical and emotional situation. She was tired, but still coherent and in good spirits. We passed the mile 90 check-in at Darwin and then moved into the Town Lake basin.

One of the neat unexpected things about Death Valley is that it’s in the flight pattern for the local Air Force base. This means that we got a free airshow as F-18 fighters flew low and loud over our heads all morning. Sometimes they flew so low they were below the rim of the distant mountains. Also, several times during the race, a pack of half a dozen identical Porsches would come driving by on the road. I realized they were stress-testing new models in the desert. The drivers gave us a wave. I told Tammy that the drivers thought they were awesome because they were driving cool sports cars. Then they saw her and they realized she was awesome because she was driving no car at all.

As we approached the 100 mile mark, things were starting to crack a little. Tammy had been out on the course for about 27 hours in really rough conditions. She topped mile 100 and shortly thereafter, the word came down that she needed a break in a major way.  We cleared out the passenger seat of the car and I cranked up the AC for her to cool off.  It turns out that it was actually making her too cold because she was wet. She asked for the heater to be turned on so I did that instead. She needed about 15 minutes of downtime and we tried to rub some of the fatigue out of her legs while we took the opportunity to get some calories in her. As rough as she looked, I never really thought that she might consider dropping out. It just seemed like one of those situations where you have to stop and address the problem. As we got her back in order, she went back onto the road again.

I noticed our crew car kept getting leapfrogged by the crew for Badwater legend Marshall Ulrich so that meant he must be gaining on us. Marshall has run more Badwater races than anyone else ever to take part. He has also climbed all 7 continental peaks including Everest and run across the USA. I got a chance to see Marshall a couple years ago when he was in town promoting his book Running on Empty. I told Tammy that when he passed her, Tammy should tell him, “Hey Marshall, I think I’m running on empty. Do you have any advice?” Sadly, when I checked back with her later, she had forgotten to ask him. I’ll bet he’s never heard that one before, ha!

I took a selfie with Tammy around mile 110 or so.

I took a turn pacing her shortly after this and much to my surprise, my cell phone popped back into reception and I got the chime of about 20 messages that had been pent up for the last two days. Cell phone signal means Spotify.  And Spotify means music—any music Tammy wants. I told her this and she liked the idea. Unfortunately, her first request was for… wait for it… Michael Bolton. DOH! But at Badwater, Tammy gets what Tammy wants. So there we were, trudging through the desert listening to Michael Bolton on my cell phone as I held it up so she could hear it well.  This is a crazy race.

For some reason, Day 2 really got me going.  I’m not sure why, but when I paced Tammy, I felt strong. I was taking fluids and salt well, and I was in a really good mood.  Who knows, maybe it was the Michael Bolton music… NOT! At any rate, I finished up my hour and we were flying, relatively speaking. We did some quick math and came to the conclusion she needed to do better than 30 minute miles on average.  Keep in mind that a very casual walk is generally 18 or 19 minutes per mile.  I glanced at my Garmin GPS watch and checked our pace. We were holding sub-19:00 miles. This was good. We were building up a time buffer that might be much-needed later on.

I looked at my watch again and noticed it was only another hour until our shift change.  I announced I wanted to keep pacing Tammy. The crew was great and kept both of us cool and supplied and I kept Tammy moving forward. At one point, a race official drove by in a car and saw us acting weird so he pulled over and watched us.  At some point, he must have realized we were dancing to YMCA as we went down the road. I assume there was no rule against YMCA in the Badwater regulations so he drove on away as we laughed about it.

Around 4:30pm, the evening crew arrived and I took my leave after pacing for two hours and fifteen minutes. I actually felt pretty good and I took the shift during the hottest part of the day. I don’t know what the deal was, but I’m sure nobody was complaining. I know I wasn't. Tammy’s father and husband came by to wish her well. Cindy and I drove up to Lone Pine (mile 120) where our motel was. I took a shower and dipped in the pool. Lone Pine is a beautiful little town at the base of Mt. Whitney and I would like to go back there again someday with Alida. After some food and some rest, there was nothing left for us to do but wait at the check in station for Tammy to show up. The man running the check-in was great to be around. He did a wonderful job making the runners feel special. After dark, he would watch the bobbing headlamps of approaching runners until they were within a few dozen feet then he would yell out loudly, “Elite runner coming through!” and everyone would cheer and clap.  Tammy finally arrived around 11pm. She just had 12 miles left to go, but they included about 5000’ of elevation gain. It was going to be a slog. She also had "only" 7 hours left before the 48 hour time cutoff.

A view of the parking lot at our motel in Lone Pine. Lots of race vans.

The story came down that Tammy was having a lot of trouble with her feet, so we put the word in and a really good foot doctor was standing by at Lone Pine to help her out when she got in. She arrived hobbling and in quite a bit of pain. The medical room was a first floor room in our motel and they put her on the bed to rest while he worked on her feet. She rested and nibbled some food while he did his thing. We gave her some new shoes and eventually, we got her vertical and mobile and she started the death march up the mountain.

Since I wasn't on shift again until just before 6am when we assumed she would finish (or else get pulled from the course) I had a bite to eat and went to bed with the alarm set for 3:50. It felt like it went off after about 5 minutes and I had yet another night of about four hours of sleep. The first thing I did was call Susana to see where Tammy was. She told me Tammy was about two miles from the finish so all of us hustled up and jumped in the car to drive to the finish line. We drove past runner after runner working their way up the mountain and finally we passed Tammy and the crew vehicle. Tammy looked catatonic aside from emotionlessly shuffling up the mountain.

We drove to the finish line and parked and waited while two or three runners finished the race. My fellow Texan Parvaneh had just finished and I went over to her to congratulate her. She recognized me, which kind of surprised me considering her state of mind and the fact that we had only met at other ultra-races. Shortly after, Kim Budzik finished. Kim is from Friendswood, where I grew up and went to high school. We were down to an hour before the cutoff and still no sign of Tammy.

Our little group started walking down the mountain looking for her. We made it about a third of a mile down before we saw the crew vehicle and Tammy walking like a zombie up the mountain escorted by Diane who was desperately trying anything to keep her moving short of physically carrying her. When we walked to her, Tammy didn't react at all. She didn't say anything. She didn't smile. Nothing. She just kept walking as we made the final few corners leading up to the well-lit finish line. The sky was lightening and the sun wasn't far from rising. Tammy walked up until there was about fifteen feet left to the finish line and then broke into an exhausted little trot for the final few steps. Everyone cheered and that was that.  The race allows 48 hours to finish. 47 hours, 29 minutes, and 18 seconds was the time it took her to walk, run, shuffle, dance, and trot her way from the Badwater basin to the Mt. Whitney portal. But she did it.  She made the cut. Chris Kostman handed her a T-shirt, a medal, and the world’s most coveted belt buckle. He called her up to get a photo with her and when she said, "Thank you," it was the first time I heard her speak the whole night.

She was asleep less than a minute later in a chair near a propane heater. A handful of runners finished after her, but they were all 8am starters. Tammy would go into the books as the final racer of the 2013 Badwater Ultramarathon.

Epilogue:

As for my own story of Badwater, I took away some very important and useful lessons about the kind of people who race this race and what they go through both before as well as during the event. Simply crewing was a miserable experience at times. I got very little sleep. I worked long hours in extremely uncomfortable conditions. I essentially lived to serve my runner. But along the way, I got to see breathtaking landscapes. I got to witness other crews help their runners as well as any runner who was near them. In fact, the camaraderie between teams was amazing. Aside from a few of the elite runners who were aiming to win the event, everyone on the course shared the same goal of trying to keep everyone safe and get each other to the finish.  Pacers offered to spray down anyone near them. When Tammy was running solo, her water bottle was filled by numerous other crews.

I also got to see a part of the country that I had never seen before and run in conditions that would be suicidal on most other days of the year. Looking back, it was a very positive experience and I am very grateful that Tammy let me be a part of her success. I firmly believe that crewing for Badwater should be a prerequisite for racing Badwater. Not only is it an act of paying one's dues, but I don't believe it's possible for one to grasp the scope and danger of this race without experiencing it first-hand by supporting a runner.

As for whether or not I want to run Badwater, I must have changed my mind at least four or five times along the way. But it is hard to stand there at the finish line and not get excited and inspired. It’s impossible not to pretend it’s you crossing the line and finishing such an incredible journey.

This was around 10am on Sunday.

I'm riding while Cindy is driving.

The van was loaded to the gills.

A thermometer at midday in Furnace Creek.

Hello ladies!

Runners in the foreground. Tammy in the background.

Yes, I am shooting salt straight from the shaker.

Mt. Whitney at sunrise about 30 minutes after Tammy finished.

Grand Canyon - South Kaibab descent at sunrise

I took some video of my Grand Canyon R2R2R run from Saturday, May 25th as we descended from the south rim to the river via the South Kaibab trail. I used a GoPro Hero3 camera with the chest mount harness. I hope you enjoy it.

Grand Canyon R2R2R - Memorial Day weekend 2013

As of this writing, the fastest known time for the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim (R2R2R) run is held by Rob Krar at 6 hours 21 minutes 47 seconds. What this means is that he started at one of the two Grand Canyon rim trail heads  ran across the canyon to the other rim trail head  then turned around and ran back. That’s exactly what I did this weekend… although not quite as quickly

The neat thing about Grand Canyon R2R2R is that it isn't a race. There is no race entry, no actual start or finish line, no race numbers, no clock, no medals, no aid stations. Yet, if you ask just about any experienced long distance runner if he or she has heard of R2R2R, you’ll likely get a nod. There is just something about the idea of standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon and looking over the side at the river a mile below you and the opposite wall 24-ish miles away across the clear desert air and thinking, “I wonder what it would take to run over there and then come back.”

This is what brought me to the Grand Canyon for the first time in my life. I wanted to take the challenge and see if I could go the distance. It’s a pretty big commitment, though. With very few extreme exceptions, once you step into the canyon, it’s on you to get back out. Because of this, the warnings are ubiquitous. Everywhere you go, you will see signs reminding you that every year, people die in the canyon because they thought they could get in and get out and they were wrong. Walking from the rim to the river and back is an 18-19 mile journey with a minimum of a mile of elevation gain at altitude.

But I did it. We did it.  I was part of a group and we all made it out and I’m still alive to write about it, so let me begin.

My running buddy Dave Shaw and I had been throwing around the idea of running Grand Canyon for a few years and it would come up in conversation and then fade away in the endless fog of race schedules and life plans. In 2012, my wife’s friend Paige wanted to put together a Grand Canyon R2R2R trip for Memorial Day weekend 2013. My wife told me about it because she knew it was something I always wanted to do and I was training for my third crack at the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile trail run in February of 2013. Now we had an event and a date. The event suddenly became very real. Our excitement was contagious and before long, Paige’s little outing had swelled to nine more people just on our side of things. In addition to Paige’s group, it was me, Alida, Stef, Mark, Belinda, Rosie, Chad, and later on Laura and Alessandro jumped in on the party. We fell into two groups. A larger group planned to hike down to the river and back and a few of us wanted to push through for the full 48 mile R2R2R journey.

I am stating the obvious when I say that Houston, Texas is flat. It’s also about 30 feet above sea level. Those two things do not relate well to training for the Grand Canyon. There isn't much I can do about altitude training, but we had an idea for hill training. Our friend Belinda works in the Williams Tower, which is the third tallest building in Houston at 66 floors and 902 feet tall. We hiked the stairs over and over. We did this several times each week for weeks leading up to the trip.

The Grand Canyon group (minus Chad, who was still driving in from Durango)

Soon enough, Memorial Day weekend approached and we flew out to Arizona on Friday. We rented a car in Phoenix and drove up to the park, where we had lodge reservations. Everything they say about the Grand Canyon is true. Pictures can’t describe it accurately, although that never stopped anyone from taking pictures. The scale of the canyon can only be experienced in person and even then it’s difficult because there is no frame of reference. We met for dinner and then went back to our rooms to make last minute preparations and get a good night of sleep.  The adventure was scheduled to begin around 5AM on Saturday morning.

The alarm went off, breakfast was eaten, water bottles were filled, packs were stuffed, and buses were ridden.  In the end, all nine of us assembled at the South Kaibab trail head for some photos as the sun came up and off we went.

We broke up into little groups pretty quickly. Stef and Mark wanted to stretch their legs, so the two of them went off ahead. I stuck with Chad and Rosie since we three were the ones running the full distance. Alida and Belinda settled into a comfortable pace with their trekking poles. Laura and Alessandro sort of did their own thing and drifted off ahead of us as well pretty early on. Within an hour or two, we had strung out along the trail and each group advanced at its own pace.

The south rim of the Grand Canyon is the place from which most people experience it. There are two major paths leading from the south rim to the river. There’s the South Kaibab trail, which is steeper and about seven miles long. There is also the Bright Angel trail, which is about nine miles long and slightly gentler and also has the advantage of three water stops along the way, of which Kaibab has none. The plan for everyone was to descend the south rim on Kaibab and ascend along Bright Angel. In hindsight, I still think this was the best option for all of us.

Look at this dork

I should take a moment and talk about my choice for clothing and equipment. I decided to go with a primarily white kit for maximum sun protection.  From head to toe, my clothing consisted of a running cap with wraparound side and rear flaps (think French Foreign Legion), my white Houston Dynamo cycling jersey, white Zoot arm sleeves, white Pearl Izumi long triathlon shorts, white 2XU calf compression sleeves, Thorlo running socks, and my relatively new Newton Terra Momentum shoes. I also had a bright orange lightweight wind/rainproof Brooks running jacket.

Gear-wise, I wore my sunglasses, Ultimate Direction PB running pack, and RoadID bracelet so they could identify my body. We opted for tight tri shorts over loose running shorts because on long runs, we have all experienced chafing, especially when the running shorts get wet and rub against our thighs.  We might have looked a bit odd out there in bicycle jerseys and triathlon shorts, but it was very effective, as the cycling jerseys had three massive pockets at the bottom of the back that are easy to access and gave me additional food and trash storage.

I also brought quite a bit of running tech on the trip. I always wear my Garmin Forerunner 910xt and heart rate monitor. Since I knew part of this run would be at night, I brought my Ayup headlamp and a spare battery. I purchased a Spot satellite tracker so that friends and family could track our progress as we moved through the canyon. I also brought my iPhone, intending to do a zombie run. Because these things have batteries that run down, I also brought a supplemental USB battery as well as the necessary cables for the GPS watch as well as the iPhone. Rosie purchased a GoPro camera with a harness and chest mount. I wore that as well and got several hours of video of the Grand Canyon.

The Ultimate Direction vest is pretty great and I think the PB model that Rosie and I wore was just right.  It has enough capacity to really stuff it, but it still sits lightly and the front-mounted water bottle holders make for easy access.  Rosie carried two of the 20oz water bottles up front and a 70 ounce water bladder in the back.  My load was similar, but I opted to swap out one of the front bottles in favor of a Katadyn pump water purifier.  I didn't know it at the time, but that decision saved the R2R2R trip for all three of us.

OK, back to the run. As our little group (myself, Chad, and Rosie) worked our way down the trail, a park ranger came upon us as he was ascending.  I’m a little bit proud of the fact that he never even asked us if we were planning to cross the canyon. He told us he had some bad news on the north side and I immediately feared the worst. There had been a water line break and two of the four stops along the North Kaibab trail had no working water taps. This meant no drinking water refills from the Phantom Ranch campground near the river to the Supai Tunnel stop less than 2 miles from the north rim—a distance of over 12 miles on the more rugged and difficult north side of the canyon. Fortunately, I had brought my water filtration pump and when I mentioned it to the ranger, he informed me that nearly the entire North Kaibab trail follows a creek with easy access to pump my own clean (and cold) water. He said it was safe for us to continue and asked us to spread the word to other hikers about the water outage. A round of high fives ensued and we continued down the trail in high spirits.

A bit further down the trail, we were greeted by Laura and Alessandro hiking up towards us.  This seemed strange.  Had they already hit the river and started their ascent?  How was that possible? It turns out they were coming up the trail looking for us because Stef had taken a tumble on the descent and badly hurt her ankle. It was just bad luck, as she tripped on nothing while running on a flat clear piece of trail. Mark was with her. By the time we got to her, her ankle had swollen up pretty badly and it was clear she couldn't continue.  Luckily, a passer-by had given her a cold compress, which helped. Chad had some duct tape that we used to somewhat stabilize her ankle as she made her ascent. We stayed with the group as the rest of our party trickled down to meet us. Finally, we had to part ways.  Stef and Mark would make the long slow ascent back to the rim and Alessandro and Laura would join them.  The rest of us continued onward.

The five of us down by the river.

By the time we reached the river, the sun was starting to get high in the sky and the difference in heat from the south rim was amazing. We took a break to eat and drink and fill out a survey from one of the park volunteers at the bottom of the canyon. I also wanted to wait on Belinda and Alida to make sure they were still doing well.  Getting to the river was half the distance for them, but only a third or even a quarter of the physical work. We hung around and rested for nearly an hour and a half, until they showed up. It was probably longer than we should have waited, but I felt a lot better knowing Alida was doing well and in good spirits. We all gathered to take a photo and then we went our separate ways.

With that decided, I topped off my water, soaked by arm sleeves in water, reapplied sunscreen, and we headed north along North Kaibab trail. Unlike the south side of the canyon, there is only one major trail from the river to the north rim. It is also about twice as long as the south run trails since the river isn't exactly in the middle of the canyon. Soon we came to the Phantom Ranch campground, which is more like a little city at the bottom of the canyon. There are lodges, mule stables, an even a cantina where you can stop and buy lunch and drinks. There were lots of people milling about as well. Most of them were campers. Some were about to leave. Some had just arrived. It was a hive of activity. As we moved on from it along the flat region of the hike, the number of people we saw dropped off dramatically. We would go 15, 20, 30 minutes or more at a time without seeing people. The sun was relentless and we were thankful for the small creek that flowed along the side of the trail to let us stay cool and wet as we went. Finally, when we had run out of water, I decided to break out the purification pump and see how well it worked.  It didn't take long to fill all of our bottles and water packs and get moving again. When we stopped, Chad and I would work the refills and Rosie would go find a shady spot to nap for 10 minutes or so. That girl can sleep anywhere.

It wasn't long until we found the break in the water line.  It was right in the middle of the hiking trail and caused a bit of a trick for those who wanted to get around it without getting wet. After some fancy footwork, we got by it and moved on toward the Cottonwood campground some seven miles away. The going was easy and aside from the heat, it was a pretty easy hike.  We walked some and jogged some. We looked forward to Cottonwood even though we knew there would be no running water there.  Each stop along the way is like a mental checkpoint where you reassess your distances and stop to sit for a moment and talk with people.

We're most of the way up to the north rim enjoying a much-needed break.

Things started to turn uphill a bit at Cottonwood and by the time we got to Roaring Springs, we were getting into the real ascent of the canyon. I spoke with another Park Ranger there about our plans and that we were already running behind schedule and would likely be hiking through the night. She told me there were some tricky spots with sheer drop-offs ahead and that we should make a real effort to reach the rim and back to Roaring Springs on the descent before dark if possible. That sounded like a good idea.

After Roaring Springs, the trail did indeed get much steeper as we started to work our way up the cliff wall. The views were incredible, and it was a bit off-putting to walk on a four foot wide strip of trail with a sheer wall of stone on one side and a drop of several hundred feet on the other.  No guard rail to be found.  It’s certainly a time to keep your wits about you as you hike. As the hike got steeper, our food situation started to become apparent too.  We had not planned on bringing food for such a long hike. I had eaten half of my food already and we were still hours away from the north rim. Rosie and Chad were in similar situations. I started rationing my food, which was a mistake. I ran low on energy towards the north rim on a particularly heavy ascent and I had to bum a couple of carbohydrate gels off of Rosie and eat them just to give me the sugar to get me going again.  We decided that when we reached the north rim, we would have to make the mile hike to the shop to buy some supplies.  I had money with me so I wasn't worried, although I had no idea what my vegan options would be.  As we got closer to the north rim, we started coming across other hikers with more frequency and by the time we reached the Supai Tunnel water stop, we knew we were less than two miles from the top.

Halfway done at the north rim.

The north rim of the Grand Canyon is about a thousand feet higher than the south rim.  It is around 8200’, which is a mile and a half above sea level.  The grade of the climb was very steep with lots of switchbacks. We were averaging upwards of 30 minutes per mile by this point. Still, our spirits were high and the other hikers seemed to enjoy us joking with them and making fun of ourselves. Rosie struck up a conversation with another hiker named Chen, who we had leapfrogged several times. He told us he had a room at the lodge on the north rim.  He was alone and his room had three beds. That was seriously tempting, but I felt like if we stopped for the night, it wouldn't be a true R2R2R trip and besides, we would wake up stiff and sore the next morning and still have to cross the canyon to get back.  We decided to push on through the night.

At the north rim, we were discussing our food options and making the hike to the store when one of our fellow hikers offered up the rest of his food to us.  He was done for the day and had all kinds of mixed nuts, bananas, trail mix, and granola and energy bars that he no longer needed nor had any use for.  We gladly accepted and a few other people who thought we were crazy for trying a double crossing gave us their leftovers as well. In fact, we gathered up enough food that we thought we could make the crossing on what we had. We told these hikers that it was good karma and it would come back to them.  As the sun started to get low in the sky, we were nearly the only hikers still at the north rim trail head.  There were a pair of carbon fiber trekking poles that were left there and I was sorely tempted to take them and use them as they would have made the trip much easier.  But they were also nice enough that someone would surely miss them and likely come back looking for them and it felt doubly wrong to take them after receiving so much generosity from strangers just prior. I did find a good walking stick and gave it to Rosie.  She ended up keeping it for the rest of our journey.

I was a bit scared of those big cliff drop-offs and I wanted to get as far forward as I could before dark so we picked ourselves up and started back into the canyon with the loose goal of finishing up before the sun rose. We made it to the Supai Tunnel right around the time it got dark enough to turn on our headlamps. It appeared we would hike the dangerous section in the dark.

My Ayup headlamp is powerful. It’s really powerful.  It’s the strongest headlamp I know of and that’s why I bought it. I discovered that the beam can be seen on the canyon wall hundreds of feet away.  I lit up a distant waterfall at night, which was a pretty neat sight to see. The reason I mention this is because when I shine this powerful headlamp over a ledge at night and I see nothing but black below me, I know it’s a long way down. If I hadn't been so exhausted by this point 14 hours into the run/hike, it probably would have bothered me a lot more than it did.

The descent went much better than the ascent.  We even managed to jog a little bit.  We had enough food to keep us going and, amazingly, we were still in really great spirits.  We talked, joked, told stories, talked about movies, anything to pass the time.  Every now and then, we would see approaching headlamps and exchange pleasantries with other hikers.  We passed several other groups who were also doing R2R2R and intentionally chose the night as the time to do it.  That had not occurred to us, but it made sense.  Night time at the rims was pretty cold—down in the low 40s.  But down near the river, it never got below the low 70s at night.  We had put on our jackets at the north rim, but it wasn't long until we had to take them off as we returned into the canyon.

There was also a full moon and no clouds.  The moon was so amazingly bright, it cast shadows on the canyon walls and the solitude of our journey, along with the strange animal sounds and otherworldly appearance of the moonlit canyon made it feel like we were not on Earth anymore. Few people get to experience the Grand Canyon by the light of a full moon.  If you ever get the opportunity, seize it! We hiked down past Supai Tunnel and on to Roaring Springs making great time.  We pumped some more water and then went on to Cottonwood where the trail flattened out.  We knew it was a long hike to Phantom Ranch and the Colorado River before we started our ascent up Bright Angel trail for the last 9 miles of the trip.

Because the moon was so bright, we came across a pair of hikers coming toward us with their headlamps turned off.  They were also hiking R2R2R and we stopped to talk with them for a while.  All of us turned off our lamps and just stood there in the dark chatting while we rested up and had some food and water. Nobody thought it was unusual in the least.  It was after midnight by the time we reached Phantom Ranch and the place was deserted. Lots of tents and the cabins were full, I’m sure, but nobody was wandering around.

The animal life at night was very interesting too.  We saw dozens of small white frogs hopping across our path.  Our headlamps (especially mine) would stir up flying insects and bats dive-bombed us, sometimes flying right at our faces before turning aside less than a foot away.  It was freaky, but we got used to it.  We saw a few scorpions, a big centipede, and a pair of mule deer that were bedded down for the night. They raised their heads to watch us as we went by, but never got up. We were in their territory and they were not afraid of us.

Eventually, we reached the Colorado and crossed onto Bright Angel trail to make the final nine mile push to the rim and our finish line.  By my rough estimate of 30 minutes per mile, I figured we would finish sometime around 7AM. We would get the chance to see a second sunrise inside the canyon.

By this point, our run had become a hike which had become a death march.  We would go a half hour or more without saying more than a few words. I had blisters on both heels, which is unusual for me.  I feared I had blisters on my toes (it turns out they were just sore) and the balls of my feet were bruised from hiking along the rocky trail. I was mostly in the lead, but sometimes I would follow behind Chad or Rosie.  We finally reached the Indian Garden campsite around daybreak.  We had about 4.5 miles to go, but I also knew by my elevation reading, that we were only 1/3 of the way up the canyon and had over 4000 feet to go. It was going to be a hard trek.

This was the only time when I felt a little discouraged.  The fact that we were taking so long made me wonder if this even counts as a R2R2R run since we walked nearly the whole thing.  Rosie plopped down next to me at one point and I asked her if she thought this was worth the trouble. In my mind, Alida would be upset with me because I told her to expect us around midnight and now the sun was about to come up and she didn't know where I was. We all felt broken and we would be spending at least half of our last day at the park sleeping. Did we mess up? It was kind of a moot question since we had to get out of the canyon one way or the other.

Looking around, Indian Garden looks like a really nice campsite.  If I ever come back to camp in the canyon, I think I will spend at least one night there.  The facility is clean, there is a lot of space, and the view is very pleasant.  The south side of the canyon is much more open and with larger vistas.  The north side has more interesting ravines, cliffs, rock strata, and waterfalls to keep you entertained.

As we pressed on for the final section of the climb, pre-dawn hikers began to trickle down the canyon and passed us.  Some people asked when we started and it was fun to answer “Yesterday morning” and see the looks of disbelief.  One camper told me I was a brave man to spend the night in the canyon without a heavy pack. I had no use for a tent or a sleeping bag. We were moving the whole time.

There were two stops left. They were aptly named “3 mile stop” and “1.5 mile stop” due to their distance from the south rim.  They both had shelters with benches and fresh water.  At the three mile stop, I struck up a conversation with a man who was leaving the canyon and he offered me two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  It seemed like too much to offer a stranger, but there was no way I could refuse that.  I’m pretty sure those calories and that sugar gave me the strength for the final push.

As the sun came up, we felt more energized, but the step climb on top of 24+ hours of trekking took its toll and I’m sure we looked like death as we hiked up past fresh-faced families going down into the canyon for the day.  Still, we exchanged “Good Morning” with everyone we saw. We also missed no opportunity to tell anyone who asked what we were about to finish. Damn it, we earned some bragging rights.

We reached the south rim right around 8:00 in the morning.  I finally clicked off the Garmin with a total time of 26 hours 32 minutes and 15 seconds including all breaks.  I know a few people who have gone R2R2R and none of them have a time this slow.  I’m kind of proud of that in a perverse sort of way.  Once we had cell phone reception, Chad texted Sabrina, who had been following our progress over the Internet from Houston. Then he texted Alida so she could come meet us. We called a few people to let them know we were safe and finished. Then the three of us just sat there and looked at the Grand Canyon as the sun rose over it.  I’ll keep good memories of that moment.  There was nothing left to do but just hang out and wait for Alida and Belinda to arrive.

Do we look tired?

Rosie wanted breakfast.  All I wanted was a hot shower and a bed. Luckily, our hotel room was only five minutes’ walk from the Bright Angel trail head and it was easy to get back to the room. I had a small shred of gentlemanly politeness in me so we let Rosie shower first while we sat in a stupor on the floor of the hotel room.  We were far too filthy to get in bed like we were. Alida and Belinda talked with us and gave us food.  I have to say they were pretty well-prepared on the food side.  There was a lot of fresh fruit and even some meals to be had.  I took a shower and changed clothes.  Alida gave each of us a massage as we emerged from the bathrooms. I also had a beer in celebration. At some point, I blinked my eyes and when I opened them, it was 2PM.

Here's the final tally, according to my Garmin 910 GPS log.

A proper elevation profile for a trail run.

Getting out of bed was a painful experience that day, however even a short walk did wonders to loosen me up and dull the ache. I was thirsty, I was hungry, I was tired, and I was sore, but I was finished and I was successful. We were successful.

An artist's rendition of how I spent my weekend.

Did we seriously just run across that?