Prologue

I guess this all started in May of 2021. As part of a loosely organized group from Austin, I was out in Arizona to run Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim at the Grand Canyon. We had all planned our travel and actual run schedules separately (so as not to run afoul of the park rules against organized expeditions), so most of us were in small groups of 3-4 people. While we were there, a rumor was going around that there was a race where people were running 200 miles across Arizona and finishing in Flagstaff. Something called “Cocodona”. The general sentiment among us R3 runners was “Who the hell does THAT?”

grand canyon rim to rim to rim R2R2R R3 — *Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim, May 2021*

Fast forward to late 2022 and the point at which I decided that there were a lot of awesome hard mountain races out there, and that if I was ever going to do all of them, now was the time to start. I had finished Leadville (in the Golden Hour…) in 2022 and fancied myself a “mountain runner.” I soon learned that Leadville was an “entry-level mountain race” and that the really tough ones were much more involved. So I entered a bunch of lotteries and waitlists for mountain races (WSER, High Lonesome, Bighorn, The Bear) and was promptly rejected or ghosted by all of them. In the meantime, I came across a post on reddit where someone was looking for pacers for Cocodona. By this point, I had become “Cocodona-curious” and decided to jump in and pace to get some experience at the event before I committed.

*Hope Pass, Leadville Trail 100 Run, August 2022*

Long story short, pacing was a blast and my new friend Alex had a strong finish in ~107 hours. I got to pace from Jerome to Sedona (miles 126-161) as well as hang out with the crew for most of the race before and after my pacing legs. This sold me on doing the race and I signed up within 24 hours of the end of the 2023 event, while I was still making my way home to Texas.

*Pacing/Crewing Alex at Cocodona (Munds Park), May 2023*

I now had basically a year to prepare myself. I had finally settled on a mountain 100 for the summer of 2023 (Wyoming Range 100), which was a life-changing experience, despite thoroughly kicking my ass and resulting in a DNF at mile 50. As of this writing, I am scheduled to return to WR100 for redemption in 2024. Fall 2023 saw me get redemption for my 2019 DNF at Arkansas Traveller 100 with a sub-24 finish, and winter was yet again focused on Bandera 100k. I opted for the 100k Saturday + 50k Sunday again this year, both to make progress toward my 1000k jacket and to get some multi-day experience in the bank for Cocodona. By this point, I had “convinced” my friend Jada to sign up for Cocodona as well (though it really didn’t take much effort), and she and a couple other of my Ten Junk Miles friends (Darrick and Bob) came down for Bandera as well. I couldn’t convince Jada to do the 150k with me, though she did sign up for 100k Saturday + 25k Sunday.

Training

Around the time of Bandera, Rogue Running officially disbanded Team Rogue Trail and basically told all of us to join Trail Roots, which I was happy to do. I’m still getting to know all of my new trail family but I’ve met a lot of great people so far. By this point I had also started training with Zach Bitter as my coach in a virtual group training setting. In doing so I got to test out one of his newer 200 miler training plans. Zach agreed that doing 150k at Bandera in January was a good “training camp” kickoff for Cocodona. The 200 mile training plan wasn’t especially difficult, but did involve a LOT of time-on-feet, up to 15 hours per week, with emphasis on back-to-back long runs on the weekends. I’ll admit that I didn’t quite make all the training hours prescribed every week, but I’d give myself a solid B- on adherence to the training plan. There were some weeks where working 70 hours while traveling and training 15 hours were just not going to happen.

I did catch a lucky break in late February/early March. I had two Arizona work projects in a row with about 4 days in between, so I spent the downtime in Flagstaff, making day trips out to run different parts of the course. During this long weekend I managed to preview the Mount Elden climb and descent, the Casner Canyon climb out of Sedona, and a few miles along the course before and after Whiskey Row aid station in Prescott. I had also managed to get up to Crown King and run “upstream” to Lane Mountain on a previous work trip. While crewing in 2023, I had run up from the finish line into Buffalo Park to see the last 3ish miles of the course. Lastly, I had driven up to Black Canyon City on another work trip to run from the start, but the river crossing at mile 1.5 was way too high, and they ended up moving the start to Deep Canyon Ranch later on anyways, making that training run a total bust.

Elevation Profile

I would estimate that I had run about 20% of the total course before race day. On the last trip where I did Elden and Casner, I took several videos of the course at various points to share with Jada, since she wasn’t able to get out there. Back home and on the road, I tried to focus a lot of my training on simulating race conditions, i.e. hiking steep hills on tired legs, carrying a heavy pack loaded down with 6+ liters of water, running through the night after a long workday, and doing long runs before/after other physical activities like trail work days or field work in my day job. In the first several weeks of training (January-February) I was keeping pretty consistent mileage of 45-60 mpw. By March and April my work schedule got a bit more hectic and my training came in fits and starts. I managed a handful of 65-70 mile weeks, but also had a few 25-35 mile weeks. I did get a pretty bad head cold in early April which knocked me out for a solid week. While missing out on the peak training period bothered me, I took solace in the fact that the illness hit me 5 weeks out from race day, and not race week.

In addition to the running workouts Zach set for me, I also continued my #daily-challenge workouts (2 miles running, 50 pushups, 50 situps, 2 minutes front plank) and added in some myrtle hip exercises, leg swings and lunges 2-3 times per week to help with general leg strength and stabilizer muscles.

Crew and Pacers

My parents agreed to serve as my race crew. They had crewed me at Wyoming Range and gotten a taste of the ultra world, but this was going to be a much larger excursion for them. We had discussed several different vehicle options combined with hotels along the course for the crew but with such a wide variance in possible arrival times it was difficult to nail down the best location for hotel rooms. I floated the idea of them crewing me “Barkley style,” that is, driving a UHaul van to each aid station and setting up air mattresses in the back and using a solar camp shower, but my mom shot down that idea pretty quickly. We ended up planning to rent an RV to drive to most of the crew aid stations and using my car (with 4WD) for the more remote ones.

My two pacers were Penny, a friend from Team Rogue Trail who is just getting into ultrarunning and excited to experience all aspects of the sport, and Matt, a guy I have known since I ran with the Ship of Fools back when I first moved to Austin. Matt has distilled marathon pacing down to a science and has paced the Austin Marathon for several years. He recently ran his first 100 miler at Javelina and seems ready to jump into the deep end of the ultra world. Penny has a background in roller derby, so I knew she had the fortitude to push through all sorts of pain and anguish on the course.

Race Plan

This being my first 200+ mile race, I had no idea what to expect pace wise. Cocodona has a 125 hour total cutoff, which is intended to make the race very finishable. UltraSignup suggested I could finish in about 102 hours. I decided to look at previous results to assess how realistic this was. I went through the 2023 results and looked up the several runners in the 102 hour time frame to see if they had finished any other races I had done, and how their efforts on similar courses compared to mine. After reviewing a few dozen other runners’ results, I decided that I would aim for a 110-hour finish. I used ultrapacer.com to come up with pacing plans for 110 hours (primary goal), 96 hours (reach goal) and 120 hours (worst case scenario). Ultrapacer allows you to upload a GPX file of a course and input aid station locations, cutoff times, trail conditions, etc. The site will then compute your expected paces for each section, taking into account aid station stop time, elevation, weather forecast conditions, day/night, fatigue and a few other factors. A lot of these features are behind a paywall, but I was happy to pay the $5 monthly subscription fee to generate the three pacing plans I used.

I like to pace ultras based on when I should be leaving each aid station. This keeps me from wasting time at each stop, and allows me to “earn” more time at aid stations by moving through sections of the course a little faster than the plan says. Ultrapacer accounts for stopped time at aid stations and shows each AS arrival time, so I translated these milestones into departure times for each AS and compiled the three different pace plans into one master plan.

*Master Pacing Plan*
*Note: the ‘Sleep’ column signifies race-provided sleeping facilities at the aid station; my sleep break plan was based on sleeping in the crew RV.*

Pre Race

I elected to drive from Austin to Phoenix for the race for several reasons. One, so my car could be used as a crew vehicle. Two, so I could bring tons of extra crap I thought I would need. And three, so I could travel more or less on my own schedule, and not be stressed by trying to make flight times or taking the risk of airport delays. I had discussed equipment needs with the crew beforehand and made sure to pack several things my mom told me not to bring. I also threw in a couple extra camp chairs for Jada and her crew since they were flying and couldn’t bring any. A couple days before leaving, I made a trip to Buc-ee’s to buy plenty of trash candy for Jada, which I traded for some huckleberry jam and sour gummies at packet pickup.

While I was loading the car before I left on Thursday, a UPS truck pulled up and dropped off a very heavy box from LMNT. Knowing how expensive LMNT is, I momentarily panicked, thinking I had accidentally ordered something or signed up for a subscription. It turned out to be a free trial box of their new sparkling water, which I added to the crew supplies. I’d been training with LMNT for about the last year or so, and liked how much salt it contained without being full of sugar like most overpriced gatorade substitutes out there.

I left Austin Thursday afternoon, stopped over in Fort Stockton, and made it to Phoenix Friday evening. This gave me the whole weekend to chill, organize my gear, stock up on last minute supplies, and mentally prepare for the race. Mom arrived Saturday evening and Dad got in Sunday afternoon. I realized that Aravaipa had an option to do packet pickup at their offices in Phoenix on Saturday, so I went ahead and took care of that so it was one less thing to worry about. I ended up doing 3 drop bags even though I had a crew. One was for Camp Wamatochik, which had no crew access; one was for Crown King/Fort Tuthill, since it covered 2 aid stations; and one for Dead Horse, which I had figured would be the AS the crew would have the highest likelihood of missing since my pacers would be arriving around that time frame and would need to be picked up from the airport. The drop bags were also meant to alleviate a last-minute panic scenario I had just been made aware of. In listening to a podcast about last year’s race (HappyCast Happy Endings) I learned of a runner whose shoe had split in half along the sole and his attempts to hold it together with some borrowed Gorilla tape until he could see his crew again. Based on this, I grabbed three older pairs of my Akasha II’s and threw them in with my drop bag stuff. My logic was that a shoe with 300 miles on it is better than a shoe that’s split in half. I also picked up a roll of Gorilla tape.

Sunday we went to the shakeout run at the starting line, made contact with Jada and her crew, picked up Dad from the airport and had dinner with Jada’s family. I was feeling moderately confident and managed to get to bed a little after 9:00 PM for a 3:00 AM wakeup.

Start to Crown King

Monday morning I got up around 3:00 AM, had a breakfast bowl and some yogurt, lubed up my feet and “undercarriage” and got dressed for the race. We had about a 30 minute drive to the start so I had some coffee and a couple sausage biscuits on the way. When we got to the start area there was a huuuuuge line, which I assumed was for the porta potties. I soon learned that it was the line to get the Spot tracker, which everyone had to do before starting. I jumped in and waited to get to the front. I eventually got my tracker and headed for the starting chute, but the line was just as long as when I had arrived. They ended up delaying the race start by 10 minutes because of the long line, which technically threw off my pacing plan by 10 minutes as well. Of course 10 minutes is nothing in the context of 110 hours, but it gave me something to worry about. I found Jada in the starting chute and we grabbed a last minute selfie before we took off.

The first few miles were a good mix of technical and “flowy” as we made our way through Deep Canyon Ranch to join up with the Black Canyon Trail. It was a bit chillier than I expected based on reports from previous years, but I was happy it wasn’t hot yet. The first aid station at Cottonwood Creek (mile 7) came up a little sooner than I expected, which I attribute to race day adrenaline. This was the last opportunity for an unrestricted water fill-up so I made sure to “camel up” and consume the full 2 liters in my bladder before refilling. I had a 3 liter bladder, 2x 500 ml soft flasks, 2x 20 oz hard flasks and an additional 1 liter soft bottle for about 6 and a half liters of capacity. Racers are required to carry at least 4 liters leaving Cottonwood Creek, but knowing how heavily I sweat, I opted for 6.5.

I managed to make a bit of a fool of myself at the first AS. First I stuffed my soft flasks into my pack at a bad angle that caused one of them to leak out all over everything. Then I misplaced one of my hard flask lids and spent a few minutes frantically looking around for it before I found it in the weeds by the chair I was using. Finally I got all my water filled, grabbed a handful of snacks from the table and set off. Less than a quarter mile up the trail I was hit with a sudden “urgent need for a haircut” so I quickly finished up the oreos and fig newtons I was carrying and stepped off the trail to fertilize the desert. In the few minutes it took to take care of business and bury the evidence I think all of the race field had passed me and I was in DFL. I set out again and quickly started catching up to people.

At mile 11, I hit the water stop and found I had to wait longer than expected to get my 1 liter. Apparently the AS at Cottonwood had run out of water for the last 20-30 runners and had instructed them to get their water at the mile 11 water stop. This meant I had to wait in line while several people filled their 6+ liters from a single cooler. This was a small delay of only a few minutes but it bugged me more than it should have.

Leaving the mile 11 water stop is where the first big climb basically starts. I was mentally ready for it, having heard all the horror stories about this section from the many podcasts and youtube videos about Cocodona. I quickly realized that this climb wasn’t particularly steep or technical. The hills I had trained on (Bandera, Hill of Life, Mount Lakeway) were definitely more challenging, but they were short. Nothing in central Texas is taller than about 300 feet, and the climbs in this section were far taller than that. The first 30 miles of Cocodona has 10,000 feet of elevation gain, and it comes unceasingly and persistently. The course rolls up and down, but it only feels like going up. A few miles in, the trail did get rougher and more technical, but at the pace I was moving, the footing isn’t what slowed me down. Luckily, while sunny, the air was still cool and breezy. I felt myself sweating appreciably, but I never felt hot or overly wet like I usually do in the Texas humidity.

By the time I hit the mile 25 water stop I was definitely starting to get worn down and ready for a little break. Unfortunately when I arrived, they were telling runners that half the water had been stolen overnight and that they could only give each runner half a liter. This was frustrating, but I accepted my half liter and went to draw some additional water from the creek. There had been a post on the Cocodona runners facebook group the prior week that the creek here was flowing, but it had since slowed to a trickle and was on the verge of becoming stagnant and fetid. Most people (including me) were carrying some sort of filter, and I had also brought chlorine tabs. I pulled 2 liters out of the creek and put chlorine tabs in the bottles and then gave away the rest of my tabs to anyone else who wanted them. My plan was to use my LifeStraw to filter the chlorinated creek water if I ran out of “good” water.

The climb seemed to get steeper in the last couple miles, but I started to see pine trees, so I knew we were getting close to the top. Around the time the trail leveled out I ran out of “good” water, but I estimated I was about a mile out of Lane Mountain AS so I decided to just push through instead of stopping and messing around with the LifeStraw. I hit Lane Mountain (mile 30) and collapsed into a chair. I was pretty wrecked, and had barely covered 10% of the race distance. One of the volunteers asked what she could get for me and I asked for my soft flask to be filled with pickle juice and extra salt. She put so much salt in it that it was gritty at the bottom of the flask, but I chugged it all in one gulp. It was glorious. I took a few minutes to rest, had a couple other snacks and dumped out the creek water. As I was on my way out I grabbed a “burrito” that was just canned refried beans on a tortilla. It was the best thing I ever tasted. I grabbed about 4 more burritos and headed out down the hill into Crown King.

I met Mom and Dad for the first time at Crown King (mile 37). I knew there was a “hold-release” where crews had to wait for their runner to clear Lane Mountain before they could drive up to Crown King, and I was moving so fast down the hill that I was sure I would beat them there. I was relieved to see my car parked on the road just up the hill from the saloon, signaling that my crew was there. It turns out the release was triggered when I was a few miles out from Lane, so the crew had plenty of time to make the hour-long drive up into Crown King.

At Crown King I offloaded the extra water capacity and hot weather gear and picked up my cold weather hat, gloves, puffy jacket and pants and put on my warm base layer. I ate a pulled pork sandwich and some pasta and took off my shoes and socks to let my feet dry out. I didn’t have any full-on blisters, but I had a couple hot spots. Letting my feet dry out and re-lubing as often as necessary was my plan to manage blisters. I also decided to go ahead and do my #daily-challenge exercises here. I had been on the fence about continuing or letting the challenge end at ~546 days, but then I realized that my friend Shae had kept her challenge up during the Across Florida 200, so I didn’t really have a valid excuse to stop. I finished the pushups/situps/planks and texted Darrick to confirm I was still in. (I didn’t want to open the Ten Junk Miles slack chat until after the end of the race). Darrick responded with some quip about me falling into a ravine and I put my phone back into airplane mode.

My blood sugar was creeping up into the 200s at this point, a combination of not moving, the bean burritos, and the big plate of pasta. I took some more insulin, re-lubed my feet and put on fresh socks, cameled up on water and chugged one of the LMNT drinks. I set off from Crown King right as it was starting to get dusky.

Crown King to Whiskey Row

The miles were coming much easier now that I was past the steep single track of the first climb. This next section winds through “neighborhood” streets in Crown King (dirt roads with houses along them). I linked up with a couple of runners, one after another and we chatted to pass the time. I did get a bit off course while chatting with one girl; we quickly realized what we had done and backtracked. We actually found another runner who had made the same mistake on our way back, a testament to how poorly this section was marked. Later on, we heard rumors that the course markings had been vandalized, similar to the water being stolen at mile 25, which is just a shame. The little detour cost us a little less than a mile, but it was still frustrating.

By the time we hit Arrastra Creek (mile 52), it was really starting to get cold. Everyone that I arrived with quickly put on their warmer outer layers (me included) and huddled around the campfire and propane heaters. I ate some vegetable soup and refilled my water. After a few minutes I knew it was time to press on; the big climb up to Kamp Kipa was next. Word on the street was that Kamp Kipa was a good sleep station, and I was ready for a nap. As I was leaving Arrastra, the volunteers asked if I wanted some Taco Bell. It turns out they had a big box of Dorito Taco Locos, so I grabbed on for the road. It was stale and soggy and stone cold and I’m sure it had been sitting out on that table for about 14 hours. It was still delicious.

The Cocodona 250 has 5 “Big Climbs:” Cottonwood Creek to Lane Mountain, Arrastra Creek to Kamp Kipa, Fain Ranch to Mingus Mountain, Sedona to Schnebly Hill and Mount Elden. I had managed to preview the final two, and had done as much research on the first one as I could. This left the Kamp Kipa climb (Mount Union) and Mingus Mountain climbs as the only two I had no experience with. The climb out of Arrastra was about 6 miles of gradual ascent on jeep road (the Senator Highway) followed by 3ish miles of steep single track to get to the top of Mount Union. The single track is littered with loose rocks the size of your foot that cause you to slide back a few inches with every step up. It was like climbing a scree field. I hit this section very late at night, I’m guessing around 3 AM. It was miserable, and it went on forever. I tried not to let it discourage me but I was hungry and tired, which made it all the worse. To add to the misery, I noticed that my headlamp was getting a little dim, so I stopped and switched to my spare set of batteries. When I turned the light back on, it was MUCH dimmer than before. The “fresh” batteries straight from the package were deader than the ones I’d been using all night. I ended up having to switch back to the only moderately dead batteries and using the flashlight on my phone as a supplement. The best part of this section was that the climb did warm me up a bit, to the point where I did stop to take off my puffy.

Finally I got to the jeep road at the top and descended down into Kamp Kipa (mile 62). I needed sleep more than anything, so I crashed on one of the mattresses in the back of the camp cafeteria. I set my alarm for 45 minutes and immediately passed out around the time the sun was rising. When I woke up an hour later (thanks to my amazing ability to hit the snooze button while unconscious) I heard Jada chatting excitedly with another runner. She had been ahead of me the whole race and didn’t even realize it. We said our hellos and she took off while I was clawing my way back to full alertness with coffee and eggs. She was feeling good so she took off before I was ready to continue.

I managed to catch up to Jada again around Camp Wamatochik (mile 69). We refueled ourselves and had cheeseburgers. She laughed at my drop bag (5 gallon Home Depot bucket with a full change of clothes and tons of snacks) compared to hers (1-quart Ziploc with a few gels). It was now mid-morning and I was starting to feel human again. I also realized how much sunburn I had gotten the previous day. My calves and hands were cooked. They were the only exposed parts and apparently I hadn’t put enough sunscreen on them. I sprayed myself down with ample sunscreen, hoping to at least minimize further damage, took a much needed bathroom break, and set off once again to try and chase down Jada.

The trail wound pleasantly through the pines approaching Prescott, though I could still feel the sun shining through onto my lobster legs. I was looking forward to hitting the part I had run a few weeks prior, and was happy to hit some familiar trail when I got to it. I emerged from the trail system onto the neighborhood streets and worked my way into town. At this point, Mom and Dad had picked up the RV and were set up on the beautiful lawn of the Yavapi courthouse, just across the street from the Whiskey Row AS (mile 78). I stopped and took off my socks to air out my feet. I opted to change shoes for the first time here, as the Ultra Raptors were getting a little loose in the heel and I could feel more blisters starting to form. I did my #daily-challenge, texted Darrick, and decided I wanted to put my sun hat and white base layer back on. This is where I realized I had screwed up. I had told the crew at Crown King the night before that I was done with that gear and wouldn’t need it again. Apparently I was incorrect in assuming that the only part of the course with sun would be the first 30 miles. The gear from the night before was in the Jeep, which had been stashed in a Walmart parking lot somewhere. Instead I put on a Decker shirt (loose, long-sleeved and white) and Dad ran into a store on the corner and bought a new sun hat. Apparently they had been selling like hotcakes that day. Another LMNT soda and an ample amount of water (camel up!) and I was ready to head out.

Whiskey Row to Fain Ranch

On my way out of Whiskey Row I grabbed a couple pieces of pizza and ate them as I walked. It was around 2:00 PM and I was making my way through the concrete and asphalt of the streets of Prescott. It was HOT. At this point I was about 80 miles in, less than 1/3 of the total distance, my body hurt, I was sunburnt, I was on city streets and there were lots of little things to annoy me. Tuesday afternoon was probably my lowest point of the race. I passed Prescott High School during dismissal, so there were cars and buses and teenagers everywhere staring at me. I’m sure I looked like shit. The pizza was also starting to develop into a gut bomb. I was getting flashbacks to four years ago when I had eaten a slice of greasy pizza 25 miles into a virtual 100 miler attempt on a warm sunny afternoon in Vermont. In that run I ended up getting behind on my hydration and got to the point where I couldn’t keep any food down and had to bail on the attempt at mile 50. Luckily, the people of Prescott seem to love the idea of Cocodona, and there was a ton of Tral Magic in the form of water and ice that residents had set out for runners along the course. I took a full cup of ice water from at least four of these houses as I made my way through Prescott. I felt like garbage, but my blood sugar was stable and I kept peeing, so I knew I was managing my hydration and calories as well as I could have been.

I was happy when I finally got out of the paved section onto the trail that runs along Watson Lake to the Granite Dells. I had been intrigued by the Dells, which are these beautiful granite rock formations outside Prescott, and was happy to hit them during the daylight. Unfortunately, the Granite Dells SUCK. Sure, they are beautiful, but navigating through them requires not running or hiking, but bouldering. The course follows a sort of scenic discovery trail through the rocks that winds its way up and down and back and forth over the boulders, occasionally dropping down into a swampy creekside trail and then back up onto the rocks. Navigating this section was a pain in the ass, and I nearly broke my trekking poles at several points where I had to hop down off large rocks. After what seemed like hours in the Dells, the course finally dumped out onto a rail trail into Iron King. I looked back at my course GPX once I hit the rail trail and was surprised to see the Dells section had been less than a mile, even though it felt like about 8.

The next several miles into Iron King were uneventful, the rail trail offering a chance to move quickly, but my sore and sunburnt legs declining to take advantage of it. I was moving due east as the sun was setting, getting the full brunt of the sun on my already burnt calves. I met the crew again at Iron King, did a sock change and re-lube, grabbed some warm gear and a headlamp (with actual verified fresh batteries this time) and pressed on toward Fain Ranch.

Upon leaving Iron King, the course almost immediately dumps into Fain Ranch, which is a working ranch. The course cuts straight across the grazing pastures, so the route can’t be marked since the cows will just eat the markers. I was a couple hundred yards behind a group of runners and their pacers who kept zig zagging back and forth across the fields looking for the trail. I remember this annoyed me. I had checked my Gaia app a few times to verify that I was heading the right way and was confident that I was, despite being on a parallel track maybe 50 feet to the right of where the course route was supposed to be. I would adjust my heading periodically to make sure I was going to hit the next turn or fence crossing at the right point, but wasn’t overly concerned with following the arbitrary track of the course dead-on.

At one point we crossed through a tunnel under the road. It was nearly dusk and I could still see pretty well, even inside the tunnel, so I didn’t have my headlamp on yet. One of the pacers in the group ahead stopped in the tunnel and shined her light in my eyes. I asked her to stop, but she either didn’t hear me or chose not to listen and kept blinding me and yammering about “helping me see”. Finally I yelled at her “turn off that goddamn light, you’re blinding me!” She huffily turned away and said something to her runner about “just trying to help someone who was too stupid to carry the required gear.” This lit a fire under me and I pushed past them and made way for the aid station, which was visible a mile up ahead. I try to tell myself that she meant well and was just trying to help, but I kept being reminded why I tend to gravitate toward smaller races in remote and desolate areas where you can go hours without seeing another human.

Fain Ranch to Jerome

It was dark for real by the time I got to Fain Ranch (mile 96) aid station and I was ready for a nap. I found the RV and quickly stripped down and jumped in the shower. The idea was to rinse off all the salt, sweat, dust and sunscreen and put on fresh clean clothes for a more comfortable sleep. It was a little warm in the RV when I laid down so I asked Mom and Dad to start the generator so we could get the AC going. They pointed out that we were limited to 3 hours of generator use per day for the rental and I asked what the fee for going over was. $5/hour. “I’ll pay the extra $15 if it means I’m not sweating in my sleep!” I passed out pretty quickly once the air was going, and I’m pretty sure they turned off the generator after about half an hour, since it was chilly outside and we didn’t need AC once the temperature normalized.

After about 2 and a half hours, Mom woke me up. I didn’t immediately feel like murdering everyone and I remembered where I was and what I was doing, which I took as a good sign. I lubed my feet and all the other “fun parts”, restocked my pack with food, water and warm gear and prepared to set off up Mount Mingus. At this point we reviewed crew logistics, since the pacers were flying into PHX early the next morning and we needed to figure out who would be where and when. For some reason, I got in my head that Mingus Mountain, being a mountain, was high and remote and inaccessible except by hiking or donkey, kind of like Hope Pass AS at Leadville. Based on this “fact”, I told Mom and Dad that they obviously couldn’t crew me at Mingus, much less take the RV up there, and that I would see them at Jerome. They didn’t argue and I grabbed some food from the tent and headed out. It was just before midnight.

The course was a more easy traverse of the grazing pasture from here on, and it followed along a fenceline for several miles, which made navigation easier. I had encountered a pacer earlier who mentioned that Mingus was his favorite climb. I had been a little anxious about it since it’s the third “Big” climb in the race. Soon the course left the cow pasture and started to slowly gain elevation along a dirt road. After a while, it turned off onto some smooth single track that continued to rise gradually. It really was a pleasant gentle ascent. Shortly after starting the single track, I started to get the “sleepies” big time, despite having drank a flask full of coffee and taken a couple of Espresso Love GUs. I decided to have a dirt nap and found a soft spot to lie down on next to the trail. I set my phone alarm for 11 minutes (1 minute to fall asleep, 10 minutes to sleep) and remember remarking how clearly I could see the Big Dipper from my spot as I closed my eyes.

I awoke a few minutes later to the headlamp of another runner as they passed. I checked my timer to see that I had 57 seconds left and decided it was as good a time as any to continue on. The rest of the climb was very doable and soon the course dumped out onto a dirt road into the campground where the aid station was set up. It was at this point I realized that my crew totally could have driven up to meet me, as the top of the mountain was a wide sort of plateau, complete with a lake, campground, buildings and tons of RVs. Oh well. I got to the Mingus Mountain AS (mile 109) just as dawn was threatening to break and decided I would focus on being quick and efficient since the crew wasn’t there. I filled up water, got some coffee in the hard flasks, and grabbed a plate of the “Lasagna Pancakes” I had been looking forward to ever since hearing them mentioned on HappyCast. After wolfing these down, I covered my calves and hands in a heavy layer of spray sunscreen and started off.

My timing was perfect. I crested the eastern edge of the ridge and began my descent off Mingus Mountain just as the sun was rising. There was a hang glider launch point that had an amazing view of the sunrise over the Verde Valley that I now wish I’d stopped to snap a picture of. The descent into Jerome has a reputation as one of the toughest sections of the course, so I braced myself mentally for a rough time. It started off aggressively with a steep switchback-heavy section of single track, but then eased into a more gradual meandering route that hugged the mountains as it worked its way north and down. This didn’t last though, as the course was soon zigzagging up and down on some heavily rutted trail that was probably equivalent to a jeep road about a century ago. The sun rising and tree cover falling away didn’t help things. Finally after what felt like days, the course dumped out onto an actual (dirt) road that led down into Jerome.

It was at this point where my watch shut off suddenly. This was my first long race with the Fenix 7X, and I had selected this watch in particular for the 77 hour battery life. As it turns out, that “77 hours” was more like 52 hours. I had expected to need to charge it at some point, just not so early in the race. I had also expected it to give me a low battery warning at 5% like my 935 had, but apparently that was a setting I had neglected to activate. I took out my phone to start a Strava activity recording while I charged my watch and continued on. Soon enough I hit Jerome (mile 126) and texted the crew to see where they were. They were still on the way in from the airport and would be there in a couple minutes. I took advantage of this time to hit the porta potty, which was not quite a war crime yet, but bad enough to get the UN’s attention. I took care of business and then went to sit in a tent in the shade until Penny found me, and we headed down to the RV.

Jerome to Sedona

Having my pacers show up definitely gave me a much needed mental boost. I had gotten through the previous section well enough, but having a pacer to chat with was something I was looking forward to. I re-upped on water and fuel and switched back to the hot weather sun hat and white compression shirt. I also chugged another of the 4LOKOs, I mean LMNT sparkling waters. Matt got his kit all ready to go and we set out for Dead Horse. It turns out the two white long sleeve shirts (a Decker and a Bandera) Matt had brought were the exact same white shirts I had brought. He pushed for me to wear the same Decker shirt as him, but mine was already dirty enough to stand on its own, so I stuck with the UnderArmour HeatGear compression shirt.

Jerome to Sedona was the section I had paced in 2023 with Alex, and try as I might, I couldn’t help but compare my current race to Alex’s. I had joined up with Alex late Tuesday night, and now we were headed out of Jerome Wednesday at lunch, so I was still subconsciously putting myself down for being 12 hours behind where Alex was. I did remind myself though that the plan was to take a longer sleep break at Fain, which was hopefully going to pay off down the line. We finished the descent off the mountain and into the low lying desert right at the heat of the day. I knew we were moving slower than I would have liked (Mom even pointed out later that I slowed down when my pacers joined me), but I convinced myself that we were just being smart and conservative about pacing.

We hit Dead Horse (mile 134) after some single track and a river crossing that hadn’t been part of the 2023 course. It was still hot, but we were moving well enough and staying hydrated. Mom was excited to have access to a real shower in the campground, something I had forgotten about this aid station. Matt suggested maybe I should take a shower to get refreshed, but I felt well enough to keep going without one, not wanting to lose the forward momentum we had. We pressed on through more easy winding flat desert trail and hit Deer Pass (mile 147) around dusk.

Deer Pass was a bit crowded, so I sat down at the aid station tent and wolfed down a couple hot dogs while Matt went to find out where the crew was set up. He came and got me a few minutes later and I relocated to the RV. I did the usual: refill the bladder, dry out the feet, stock up on food. I also did my Wednesday #daily-challenge exercises and texted Darrick to remind him that he was still my bitch. After a few minutes, my blood sugar started to climb (thank you, refined white bread hot dog buns) and I reached for my insulin pen to take a correction, only to find that my pocket was unzipped and the pen was gone. This was a minor annoyance but I had at least half a dozen spare pens stashed in the crew kit, refrigerator, suitcase, etc. so I grabbed another one while Matt went back to the AS tent to see if he could find the missing one. He came back empty handed and we chalked it up to “shit happens, that’s why you bring backups,” and Penny and I set out on the next section.

I had forgotten that once you leave Deer Pass the course becomes more technical and varied, so I initially felt kind of bad that Penny had gotten stuck with a harder section and wouldn’t even get to experience the amazing views as we approached Sedona. She insisted she was fine though, and we chit-chatted as we made our way through the night. I knew the “100 miles left” sign should be popping up any minute, so we kept our eyes peeled, hoping to grab a picture with it. Well either the wind blew it away (it was quite windy), they put it in a different place this year, or they didn’t put it out at all because we never found it. I even remember passing through the little wash where it was last year and saying, “It should be like right here!” Oh well, I got a pic of it last year, so it wasn’t the end of the world. As we approached Sedona we occasionally linked up with other runners and their pacers, including one pair who asked us, “hey, did you lose an epi pen back at the aid station?” Apparently my insulin pen had been found and someone from the AS was going to find my crew and get it back to them, but it never ended up happening. We assured these helpful folks that I was fine and had plenty of spares (and decent insurance that has a $0 insulin copay….) and thanked them for their concern.

About halfway through this section, we hit the water stop at the high school in Sedona, and I took a few minutes to sit down and eat some nekot cookies after we filled our bladders. It was getting to be actual nighttime and the sleepies were really starting to set in. At this point I had been “running” for almost 3 full days with a total of about 4 hours of sleep. It was at this point where Penny and I started a shitty-90s-pop singalong to pass the time. In this context, “shitty” doesn’t just apply to the songs or our rendition of them, but to the degree to which we could actually remember any words or melodies. I’m pretty sure we could only come up with about 11 words to OMC’s How Bizarre between the two of us, but that didn’t stop us from making the trail-karaoke version last at least 17 minutes.

By the time we hit the streets of Sedona I was desperately looking forward to another shower and nap in the RV. Unfortunately once you get off the trail you still have a couple of miles to the actual aid station. The lucky part was that it was the middle of the night, so there was no traffic to wait for and the street crossings didn’t slow us down from the blistering 16-minute miles we were doing. I’m fairly certain we got through Don McLean’s American Pie with about 85% accuracy as we approached the Sedona Posse Grounds Park (mile 161). The aid station was laid out much differently than I remembered from 2023, but we soon found the RV. By this point I was positively loopy with sleep deprivation, to the point where I could barely stand up straight. I decided that I was doing the “Jack Sparrow,” which was funnier to me than anyone else. I stumbled into the shower for a warm rinse and then promptly passed out.

Sedona to Fort Tuthill

After another 3ish hour nap and reset, Matt suited up and we got ready to head out. The sun was up and it was a beautiful morning. I was glad the crew was going to get a chance to see some of the red rocks of Sedona in the daylight. Matt was taking his time getting ready and I was impatient so I took off, shouting at him to just catch up to me. Up next was the 4th major climb, the ascent up Casner Canyon to the Coconino Plateau. This section started with some more flowy single track as it exited Sedona, then crossed Oak Creek and began the climb. I had done the creek crossing and climb during my training trip back in March, so I was not too worried about the climb, but I also kept reminding myself that the climb was “easy” on fresh legs, not legs with 165 miles on them.

I was also concerned about the creek crossing, as there was zero chance of hopping across on rocks and keeping my feet dry. Earlier in the week I had a harebrained idea of putting my feet in trash bags to keep them dry, and Dad had managed to find some heavy duty trash compactor bags that seemed up to the task. When we hit the creek, I stopped and took the bags out of my pack, pulled them up over my feet and taped them in place with a strip of Gorilla tape around each calf. The on-course photographer looked on in glee with an expression that said “This is going to fail in a spectacular way, and I’m going to get photos of the whole thing.” Of course he was correct. The water got thigh deep within two steps of entering the creek and the bags immediately filled up. I wasn’t too surprised, and was just glad I had only spent about a minute “suiting up” for the crossing. Nothing ventured, nothing lost. We all had a good laugh and Matt and I started up the climb.

*Keeping my feet dry as I cross Oak Creek...*

The Casner Canyon climb really wasn’t that bad, about what I had remembered. There was a section near the top where the trail was a bit overgrown, which was an annoyance, but otherwise the climb went by quickly. We did stop for a quick selfie about halfway up where you have one of the last good views of the red rocks. When I had run this section in training, I was listening to Episode 3 of the I’ve Got That On Vinyl podcast, which covers Michael Jackson’s Thriller and David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, so I had PYT (which is a stupid and terrible song) stuck in my head for most of the ascent. By the time we got to the top and made it through the water stop at the Schnebly Overlook, the song in my head had switched to Starman, a marked improvement.

The rest of the segment into Schnebly AS (mile 178) was easy smooth jeep road, albeit with another moderate hill between the overlook and the I-17 crossing. We made it into the AS around lunchtime and met up with Mom who just had the jeep and crew kit. Even though the dirt road into Schnebly was very smooth and well maintained, she didn’t want to take the rental RV off the pavement, so Dad had gone ahead to Munds Park with Penny, who really needed a block of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

After a few minutes to refill everything and knock out my #daily-challenge, Matt and I were ready to head out. It was around this time that I realized, “Hey! We’re done with the ‘dona part of Cocodona, all that’s left is the Coco!” referring to the fact that we had left Sedona and were now up on the Coconino Plateau. The course continued on along smooth jeep road, shaded by the tall pines and cooled by a gentle breeze. This section probably had the best course conditions, and had I not had 180 miles on my legs, I probably could have jogged a bit and made up some time. I had been keeping close to the 110-hour pacing plan for the first three days, but for some reason had not planned for a sleep break at Sedona, even though the plans had me passing through there Wednesday evening/night. After the Sedona sleep break I was a couple hours behind the 110-hour goal, but I wasn’t overly worried about it since I was feeling good and still well ahead of 120-hour pace.

I’ll also note that Zach had texted me as we were exiting Casner that he was on course and was going to try to meet up with me at some point that day. He had 3 or 4 coaching clients running in the 250 and 125, one of which was vying for a spot on the women’s podium, so he decided to come out for the race. I also think that just having Zach Bitter hanging out at an Aravaipa race is something most people would expect. I had told him my ETA to Schnebly but he didn’t make it out there, so I was happy to see him at Mund’s Park (mile 190). I plopped down in my chair at the RV and started going through my AS routine, which was down to a science at this point. Zach told me they had bacon, eggs, sausage and BLTs at the aid station and asked what I wanted. Naturally my response was, “Yes.” After another sock and shoe change and eating the small feast, Penny jumped in and we were off to Fort Tuthill.

A couple hours down the trail I commented that the branches on a group of dead trees looked gray like smoke, and that it made it look like there was a campfire nearby. Penny pointed out, “Yeah, that’s actually the real smoke that is everywhere up here right now. Can’t you smell it?” I could not, but I did remember getting a text from Race Command earlier in the week notifying us of a controlled burn nearby, and that they would update us if it was going to cause any changes to the race. I could not actually smell it, but there’s a good chance my sense of smell was already saturated by it. We rolled through Kelly Canyon (mile 201) feeling good and had some excellent chicken tacos. This AS not having crew access or drop bags made the stop pretty efficient as there wasn’t much to do other than fill up on food and water. We were in and out in 20 minutes or less and made our way to Fort Tuthill as it was getting truly dark.

The last few miles into Fort Tuthill (mile 210) were rough. The sleepies were hitting me hard, and no amount of coffee, chocolate covered espresso beans, caffeinated GU or sport beans was helping. There were a couple complicated turns in this section, including one we missed, though we only had to backtrack a couple hundred yards. Penny was a champ navigating this section for me, as I was in no state to rely on higher brain function beyond a couple more feeble attempts at some 90s alternative hits (the most accurate of which was probably Fastball’s The Way). We finally got to the aid station around midnight, where I had my last shower/nap break.

Fort Tuthill to Finish

The magic of the first two shower and nap resets did not make an appearance for the third such break. When Mom woke me up I still felt like death, kind of like when you stay up half the night cramming for finals and only sleep 3 hours, then wake up feeling jittery, nauseous and groggy. I got dressed and ready and headed over to the aid station for the mandatory cognitive check. They asked me my name, age, bib number, where I was, what I was doing, and what year it was. I passed the check and looked around for Matt so we could get going. I was about to just leave again and let him figure it out when we found each other and set off. I made a lame joke about the EMTs asking me if I knew who was president and me responding “Jimmy Carter?”

At least the trail in this section was pretty smooth and flat. Matt had suggested I take a break from using poles since there were “no climbs” on this part of the course. Which was true until we hit the Arizona Trail and ran into a moderate set of switchbacks which put us up on a ridge. I was a little salty about this climb, which was not overly long or steep, but was just rocky enough that poles would have been nice. Even though I got a small boost from the sunrise, I was still very sleepy, and the smoke from the controlled burn was thick and oppressive. I ended up grabbing another trail nap, which felt like it didn’t really do anything to help. We had a total of 17 miles from Tuthill to Walnut Canyon, the last “long” section of the course. I knew I was going to need more of a boost to get through the last push to the finish, so I asked Matt to text the crew and have them pick me up a Red Bull and have the air mattress and a pillow set up in the jeep so I could nap at Walnut Canyon (no RVs allowed at Walnut).

We finally arrived at Walnut Canyon (mile 227) and I headed straight for the porta potty to make a deposit while Matt tracked down the crew. He later told me he thought I was going to pass out as soon as I sat down in the porta potty, but I “powered through” and made my way over to the jeep. The mattress wasn’t inflated yet and I ended up throwing a bit of a tantrum in frustration, grabbing the 12 V pump and shoving the discharge into the filler valve. Well I guess I was too “enthusiastic” because I ended up covering the inlet, causing the pump to overspeed and blowing the fuse in the jeep. I collapsed in a chair while Dad found another working outlet and Mom got a pillow and blanket ready for me. Once the “bed” was made, I crawled in and asked for 45 minutes. I had trouble finding a comfortable position and wasn’t able to fall asleep and stay asleep. After 45 minutes Mom came to check on me and I asked for another 15.

Finally, when I had gotten all the “sleep” I was going to get, I sat up and started prepping my feet for the final push. I chugged the Red Bull along with a can of some espresso cold brew, hoping the caffeine would get me through to the end. I also picked up my headphones, knowing that I would want some music or audiobooks to get me through the last 23 miles. When we swung by the aid station tent, they asked me if I wanted a beer and I declined. Then they offered a shot of Fireball and I figured it probably couldn’t hurt. With that, I set out for the last segment, knowing the next time I saw the crew it would be at the finish.

By the time I left Walnut (11 AMish on Friday), there were plenty of Sedona Canyons 125 and Elden Crest 38 runners on the course. I can get cranky when there are crowds on the trails, and today was no exception. There was one particular 38 mile runner who I was yo-yoing with for a couple of miles right out of the AS. At 230 miles and 4 days in, I had no pep left in my step and was just chugging along at a 15:00-16:00/mile power hike. When I caught up to this runner, he was moving slower than that, but it took a few minutes before he seemed aware I was right behind him and he finally stepped over so I could pass. Within a couple minutes, he came jogging up behind me and sighed loudly and exasperatedly, so I let him pass me back. Sure enough, I caught him again within 5 minutes. Now he was walking slowly and seemed to be trying to make a phone call but not getting a strong connection. I passed him again and he gave me a death glare. We went on like this for another mile or two until he finally fell back and didn’t catch up again. I was moving at a steady 15:30 mile the whole time.

A couple weeks before the race, Aravaipa announced some major permit changes that had resulted in reductions in the field size for the 250 and re-routes of the course for the 125 and 38. One such re-route removed the Elden Mountain section from the 125 and 38, meaning that only the 250 runners would be going over the last climb. Needless to say, I was happy to have the course relatively to myself once the Elden ascent began. I had still been fighting the sleepies throughout the approach to Elden, distracted only by the small annoyances of some of the other runners and some podcasts. Once I hit the climb though, it was like I had new energy. My legs weren’t fresh at all and I was putting most of my weight on my poles for some sections, but knowing this was the last climb lit a fire under me I hadn’t felt since Monday. I did end up passing a couple other 250 runners on the way up and was pleasantly surprised by how quickly I found myself at the top.

Up on top of Elden, the smoke from the nearby fire was very thick. Flagstaff was still visible below for the whole ascent, but once I got up on the ridge, the smoke was heavy enough to obscure the view of Humphrey’s Peak (the highest point in Arizona) only a few miles to the north. I remember noting how beautiful the view of Humphrey’s was during my training trip, and now it was completely obstructed.

*Humphrey’s from the top of Elden in March. The smoke was too thick to see it at all during the race.*

Once I got past the radio towers on Elden, the course switched to very smooth jeep road and I was able to jog a little bit down to the aid station (mile 241). When I arrived, they asked me what kind of barbecue I wanted: pulled pork, sausage, or brisket. Being in a suddenly good mood, I pointed to the Texas flag on my bib and proudly proclaimed, “See this flag? That means I want brisket!” I sat down and ate two pieces of the most amazing brisket I could ever remember tasting, along with some Coke. I’m pretty sure this was the only Coke I had at all during the race, which is not at all what I would have predicted. I chatted with the AS volunteers and photographers for a few minutes and then set off for my victory march down into Flagstaff.

*The joy of a man enjoying some brisket at the top of the last mountain he has to climb*

From this point forward, I had run every inch of the trail down to the finish. The road down the back of Elden is steep, but is smooth enough for vehicles, making it very runnable. I did try to run but my feet, quads and knees weren’t having it. Earlier in the day I had noticed that my knees and heels just hurt. There was no acute injury or muscle soreness, they just felt bruised inside and out. I’ve had heel bruises before from aggressive downhill training, but this was more focused on the fleshy part around the outside of my heel rather than the center of the weight bearing part. And my knee pain reminded me of high school cross country when we had a “big” training week and had covered almost 20 miles for the week, including a 6 mile ‘long run’ on Friday. I had started taking ibuprofen Thursday afternoon very sparingly (half a 200 mg pill every 4-6 hours) but decided to take a little more since I would be done soon. I think I ended up taking 2 200 mg pills shortly after leaving Walnut Canyon and 2 more when I left the Elden AS.

While I wasn’t able to actually run down the mountain, I did manage to pick up the pace for the descent (later confirmed by my crew who were watching the Spot tracker). It was at this point where I did start to get a little emotional. I like to think of myself as pretty stoic, though I did tear up when I finished my first 100 miler at Cactus Rose in 2018. Coming down Elden, I started having thoughts of, “Holy shit, I’m about to be a Cocodona finisher” accompanied by waves of emotion and the welling up of tears. After 2-3 of these mini outbursts I finally tamped it down by thinking to myself, “You still have 7 miles left, and that’s plenty of time to fuck it up. Don’t get cocky.”

After a couple miles coming down the road, the course moves onto the Oldham Trail, a single track that runs along the base of the mountain. I think the route on race day was a little different than the one I took during my training run, and I remember getting upset that there was a small climb shortly after crossing a wash. I got through that part quickly and was soon crossing the large meadow-like area before the last appreciable climb up onto the small plateau in Buffalo Park. I had run up from the finish to about this point in 2023, so I knew that I was inside three miles to go. I did pick off two or three runners in this section and was moving with purpose as the trails through Buffalo worked their way down into town.

Before I knew it, I was running on the streets of Flagstaff. I went up the small incline, made the left by the hospital and was soon trucking down the hill toward Heritage Square. As I approached the famous last turn (Left on Birch!) I saw that the livestream camera operator was following me, so I decided to put on a show and broke into a “sprint.” While the commentators on the stream were kind enough to remark how fast I was moving at the end of a 250 mile run, it really just looked like an enthusiastic jog.

I made the right turn through the gate into “Cocodona Alley” and crossed the finish line. Dad and Penny were there at the finish, so I ran up and gave Dad a big bear hug while Penny took photos. My eyes were definitely wet, so it’s probably good I finished with my sunglasses on. I got my buckle, and was quickly ushered over the photo tent for my after photo.

Aftermath

As it turns out, I sped up a little bit more than expected for the last section, and Mom hadn’t quite made it to Heritage Square by the time I finished. She walked up literally just a couple minutes after I came in, having just dropped Matt off in Phoenix for his flight home.

When I had left Fort Tuthill that morning we had mentioned lodging for Friday night and I think I had said to just find a hotel somewhere in Flagstaff for us to stay in after I finished. The race plan had been pretty open at this point, and I had kind of expected to be finishing later that night or the next morning. We had a reservation near the airport in Phoenix for Saturday night but no firm plans for Friday, not knowing if the RV was going to be parked somewhere in Flagstaff so the crew could nap near the finish or if we’d be posting up in a Walmart parking lot somewhere. It turns out that the Walmart in Flagstaff had a strict policy against overnight/RV parking and the going rate for hotels was about $400, as there was also Northern Arizona University’s graduation and a Billy Idol concert going on that same night. However, when the crew was at Fort Tuthill, Dad noticed that there was an RV campground a few hundred feet from the aid station. He inquired and found that not only did they have vacancy, access was restricted to military service members and veterans (Mom and Dad were both in the Air Force), and a spot could be had for $30/night. So when Mom arrived at the finish, we grabbed the drop bags and headed back to Tuthill. I knocked out my #daily-challenge exercises and went to take a shower in the real showers they had at the RV park while the crew procured some barbecue for dinner. After a plate of ribs and macaroni and cheese and some good heavy dark beer, I passed out.

A few hours later, I woke up in a coughing fit (the smoke had really done a number on my lungs) around the same time Mom got up to use the bathroom. I checked the tracker and saw that Jada was through the Elden aid station and on her way down the mountain to the finish. I told Mom this and she said, “We should go to the finish.” We headed back to Heritage Square and parked a block away just as the last of the Friday night bar-goers were stumbling home. Our timing was good, as Jada finished just a few minutes later. Mom rushed in and gave her a big Mom-hug, something that I’m sure she wished she’d been able to do for me at the moment I finished. We hung out with Jada and Lani for a few minutes until everyone was getting chilly and anxious for a warm bed. We took one last pic with our buckles at the finish line and headed our separate ways.

Cocodona 250 2024

Bandera 100k + 50k 2021