Sunday, June 2, 2013

2013 Pigtails Challenge: My First 100 Smiler

2013 Pigtails Challenge: My First 100 Smiler

photo by Ras

photo by Ras
By Kathy Vaughan


     I awoke at 4:30 a.m.and glanced over at the tan easy-up shelter from which I'd been crewing my husband Ras for the past 2 days. I was looking for the glow of his headlamp to see if he was in from one of his loops.  This was his third morning of running around Lake Youngs in Renton ,Washington, where the Pigtails Challenge was being held.  This trail ultra race has 3 distances: 200 miles, 150 miles and 100 miles.  Ras had completed the 200 miler last May and was now in the process of completing his 2nd 200 miler on this same course.
  
     The course is a 9.4 mile loop around Lake Youngs, which runners glimpse only in one spot. The loop has 900 feet of elevation gain along rolling terrain.  The lake itself is surrounded by chain link fencing, as it belongs to the city of Renton.  A thick forest surrounds the lake inside this forbidden territory.  The trail is mostly double track, with a few sections of what became known as single “crap”.  At times the trail is alongside residential roads, behind houses, meandering through the woods and running near small wooded pastures.   The course is very easy to follow.  Runners reverse direction on each loop.  At the end of each loop, the runners tag up at the main aid station and their splits are recorded.  They can access their own food & gear at this time, plus a restroom with running water.  This is also where their crew is waiting, ready to help as soon as the runner checks in .


photo by Beth Glander

     I had been sleeping in the back of my Subaru Outback.  Warm inside my sleeping bag, I tossed and turned.  I would be starting the 100 mile distance of the Pigtails Challenge at 6 a.m. , my first 100 mile trail race. Ras had begun the 200 mile race at 6 a.m on Thursday. Twenty four hours later, the 150 mile runners had begun. I had been camping here during this time, helping Ras and enjoying visiting with other crew, pacers and runners arriving early to pick up their race packets.  


photo by Takao Suzuki

     Now it was game time.  I could see that the shelter was still dark, meaning Ras was out on the course somewhere.  I would soon be running also and would pass him each time we went around and around this loop.  He was 2 days deep though, and I would be fresh. He'd been rained on a lot.  Now the weather was turning.  The sky would be cloudy but the sun promised to shine. The air was chilly and the ground still damp in the early dawn.  I knew my morning plan as I had gone over it in my head many times. Eat a banana; drink coffee; put on running clothes; start drinking water; relax; fill water & Perpetuem bottle; stay warm until race time.

     The 100 mile runners were now arriving and soon I was laughing and nervously interacting with the group as we mingled near the starting area.  The ultra running community is very supportive and non-competitive for the most part, and runners were friendly and encouraging towards each other. Many runners already knew each other and lots of warm hugs were going around.  Occasionally a worn out 150 or 200 miler would come through the aid station to check in after having completed one of their loops. The fresh energy may have felt either welcome or overwhelming to these runners.  

     To complete the 200 miles on this course, runners start with a 2.3 mile out n'back and then run 21 loops around the lake.  The 150 milers are led just a short distance out the trail by Van Phan, the race director, to their start and then run 16 loops.  As a 100 miler, I would run a 6 mile out n'back first and then 10 loops around Lake Youngs. Each odd loop I would take a left at the  T, or the end of the lollipop stick (in runner's trail description terms) . For each even loop, I would take a right.  The distance from the start/finish/main aid station to this T where the loop begins is only a few hundred feet. 

     Van called us together for a pre-race briefing.  Oddly, she had to mention to us that we should be aware of Canada Geese families that had attacked a couple of runners so far, threatening many others. I had been hearing the reports the 2 days previous and had even seen a good size bite on the back of Francesca Carmichael , the women's winner of the 200 miler.  She cautioned us to not turn our backs on them. I chuckled with the others, but inside was secretly hoping I would not come across these guys out there!  

     And then we were off.  I had trained & planned for this day for over 6 months now.  Since December, I had put in over 900 miles in training.  January through March, these miles included lots of long cross-country skiing days.  All of this training had been good, but it had token its toll on my Illiotibial band. A common injury amongst runners, straining this band causes outer knee pain and has to be massaged & stretched to heal. It had reared its ugly head with me only 4 weeks before Pigtails.  I was in my peak mileage week, running the Spokane River Run 50k, where I set a  PR.  I was about 10 miles from the finish when the knee pain came on.  After looking up the symptoms when I got home, it was classic IT Band Syndrome.  I had spent lots of time since then stretching, using trigger point massage and rolling out with foam rollers.  It felt better, but was not completely healed. 

     I would run this race anyway. It had been my focus and this was my chance. I would make it happen. I would believe in myself. I would focus on my basic healthiness and not on my pain. I would visualize the finish and remember why I wanted it. Everybody on the course would be feeling pain to a certain extent or other. I would not be alone in this. Together we would all be suffering at some point, some more than others, as the miles and the hours would be long. 


photo by Takao Suzuki

     I ran the first 6 mile out'n'back with ease. It was a delightful way to start the day. The sun began to shine and the runners were in good spirits. I visited with some folks I had met the day before as they came to get their packets. It now felt good to just cruise along with them, knowing in later miles I would be setting my own pace.  After this 6 miles, my friend Beth Glander would join me for 2 loops. We had met last summer on a 4 day trip running around Mt. Rainier together on the 94 mile Wonderland Trail.  This was easier trail, yet a different undertaking. I was happy to have Beth be a part of it with me.


photo by Takao Suzuki

     I completed the 6 miles in 1:14, 16 minutes faster than my goal time. I at first didn't see Beth, but by the time I shed a few layers, grabbed my sunglasses and got ready to head out on my first loop, I saw Beth appear in perfect synchronicity.  It was awesome. My journey was becoming ever more real and my planning was paying off.  Now I had a friend to run with me.

     Beth was ideal. A petite and fit little runner, she was up for the task.  She almost immediately made it clear that she wanted this to be all about me:    “Run where you want on the trail and I'll find a spot”,  “We can talk as much or as little as you want”, “You got this Kathy”.  She was totally encouraging and positive. She reminded me that my only true goal was to finish. My finishing time was that 32 hour cut-off.  I had a pie-in-the-sky goal of 29-30 hours and had charted out the splits necessary for that.  It was all a big question mark though, as this was a first. It was ok to not know. Hearing Beth say that 32 hours was my goal to finish this, helped me to accept that as a back-of-the-packer and a first time 100 miler, that would still be a legit accomplishment. 

     These loops went by fast and soon it was time to say good-bye to Beth and run 3 loops on my own. I planned on listening to my mp3 player and was pretty excited about getting pumped up on some good raggae dancehall music. The universe had other plans.  In my pre-race organization I had definitely charged my mp3 player. I had definitely not listened to it, saved it for this day. This moment. But now it was dead as I set off on this first of my solo loops. I saw Ken Michal, a 200 mile runner and host of the podcast  Running Stupid.  He said “Control what you can and let go of the rest”. Right. I tucked it away in my running vest and kept going.


photo by Takao Suzuki

     The middle miles went great.  I had good energy and lots of running legs left.  I cruised along happily, going by the other runners and smiling, sending good energy everyone's way.  I liked hitting the mid-way aid station each time, refilling my water bottle and nibbling on a salty snack mix, one of the volunteers had put together.  It was a tray filled with a mix of pretzels, potato chips, corn chips and cheetos (which I avoided due to my vegan diet). This was a good way to get some salt and I never did take any additional salt supplements during the event.  Because of such easy access to water, I only carried one hand bottle as I ran. My running vest was light and had a small 10 oz flask of Perpetuem in one front pocket.  The other pocket held a small ziplock bag of tums, ibuprofen and ginger chews.  Also in that pocket I carried a mix of Justin's Nut Butter pouches, salted nut mixes, Gu Chomps and soy or shiitake mushroom jerkeys.

    As the day wore on, I started drinking a delicious cup of Butternut Squash soup each time I hit the main aid station.   For fresh food, I nibbled on some cherry tomatoes Tracey Brown was kind to have brought  to the mid-way aid station and some celery sticks and watermenlon provided at the main aid.


photo by Kathy Vaughan


     Away from the roads, the trail does wind its way through a delightful forest, filled with a variety of trees.  Some old cedar still stand. Large ferns and mossy stumps line the trail. Buttercups and other spring wildflowers were lush amongst the wet, green grasses.  A variety of birdsong came through the trees and once in a while a chipmunk or squirrel would appear.  Sometimes the trail would pass small wooded pastures where people kept horses, chickens and goats. A white pony grazed in one of these and it seemed almost fairytale like.  Old fence lines sagged and rusted. I was curious about the old homesteads that once existed here.  At dusk, a wonderful chorus of frogs began to croak.  It was fun to hear them start up so loudly and then suddenly stop all together.  Enchanting moments were present along this route, though lined mainly by a prison-style fence,  keeping us from the inviting forest inside and the lake we could not see.  

     I grabbed my Black Diamond Z poles on my 4th loop to help with the IT band discomfort. I could use them on the climbs and carry them easily while I ran.  The downhill was becoming more uncomfortable too and the poles could help take some of the impact on the descents. My goal was to finish and I would use whatever tools I had in my tool kit to accomplish this.  


photo by John Wallace III

     It was fun to see the elite runners dash by on each loop.  They had now lapped me many times over, but I didn't care. I fed off of their energy as they passed and observed their form.  Tim Stroh won the 200 miler last year and came back to do the half this year.  He was strong the whole time and finished the race, 1st overall in 16:58 minutes.  It was fun sharing the course with him. I happened to be at the main aid station right after his finish.  He had dashed by on his final lapping of me as he pushed for that sub 17 hour finish.  It was amazing.  He held out his hand towards me for a handshake when I saw him.  I love in this community, that the overall winner has the humility to shake hands with a lady runner who would be the final finisher. DFL (Dead f'ing Last, for those of you who don't know the acronym)  I do prefer how my friend & veteran 100 miler,  Matt Hagen referred to me though, as “Our lovely caboose”  .

photo by Glenn Tachiyama
     With this well thought-out race design, spent 200 milers can encourage first time 100 milers.  Elite 100 milers can spur on the downtrodden. Back-of-the-packers can run with others. Solo lady runners can rest assured they will see other runners regularly.  Most runners at least said hi as they passed.  As pacers came on, they took over this job.  When runners fell silent because it took too much energy to talk, it was understood. James Varner, the race director of Rainshadow Running,  ran the 100 mile distance.  Each time he passed me he called out positive words.  This felt great. As an aspiring ultra runner just several years ago, James was someone I looked up to.  He is part of a group of runners I've become friends with that have helped me to believe that I can achieve these distances I attempt; doing it my way. 

     By loop 5,  Ras and I had synched up.  I rushed him out of the aid station and we stayed together until the mid-way aid .  He had to push himself to keep up with me as he was on loop  19.  He developed an unusual toe pain and slowed to the point where I had to leave him behind.  I took off with great renewed energy after having spent some time with Ras.  I was also excited because after this loop, I would be joined by my two friends Angel Mathis and Tonya Hoffman.  These gals would stay with me all night and bring me in to the finish.  Tonya is a mountain climber and a really strong runner.  She finished her first 100 miler in December.  Angel is a strong runner as well and will be running her first 100, Cascade Crest in Easton, Washington, in August.  I felt really honored to have these amazing women willing to join me in this challenge I had set before myself.  They would be with me during my hardest times, when the going got rough, and rougher.

     Deby Kumaska, another experienced 100 miler finisher and great friend of mine, would be helping to gear me up for the night. She wanted to make sure I was ready with all of the nighttime changes attended to before I set out on the loop where darkness would fall.  I was still 10 minutes ahead of my projected splits and this was a good thing. I was about to slow and slow considerably.  I was heading into new territory, mileage wise.  This would mean a lot of things to me that I could not now foresee.  Deby could, thankfully.  She prepared me as well as she could.  She put fresh batteries in my headlamp for me, as I had been using it all weekend to crew Ras.  She helped me think through what I should have in my running vest for the colder temperatures.  She got me another cup of the hearty, warm soup. This allowed Angel to get ready herself. Tonya had accidentally dropped a hammer on her toe the week before and decided to wait until the next loop to join us.  

     Angel and I took off on loop 6. She was feeling fresh and I was 53 miles deep. This is what pacing is all about.  Angel would help remind me to sip water and nibble on my snacks.  She would visit with me and help keep me motivated, now that I was feeling the miles.  It was awesome to have her with me.  Angel is a real sweet lady and we immediately fell into great conversation.  For some reason I felt compelled to give her ongoing trail beta, very detailed.  I don't know if she appreciated or needed this on such a straightforward course, but its what my mind was doing. She was patient with me.  We cracked up later when I realized what I was doing and promised to not do it for each of the remaining loops.  


photo by Ras

     Loop 6 done, Tonya now joined me and Angel. I was doing a lot of hiking at this point, more like trekking as I am good with using my poles.  I have a lot of experience with them both through skiing and fast packing.  I was able to use them to my advantage.  The trekking did not aggravate the pain in my IT band as much, so I made better time with this movement. Angel had come up with the idea to attach a toe warmer with a sticky backing to my outer knee and then hold it in place with my Zensah calf sleeve.  This was very soothing.  I could still intersperse some running on this loop, but by loop 8, almost no running was happening.  I felt bad for my pacers who were likely expecting to run more, but when I expressed this concern, they assured me they were about helping me get it done.

     My mind was playing funny tricks on me.  A pile of wet leaves looked like large shards of clear glass. A bike coming towards me in the dark with flashing lights (pacing a runner) sent me into hysterical laughter that was hard to stop. Sometimes I'd completely forget where we were on the trail, even though I had become  so familiar with it.  I was surprised at how slowly my brain was working. Answering questions that Tonya and Angel asked seemed to take so much effort and the answers seemed disconnected from my thoughts. 

     With loop 8 came tears.  It was hard to set out on that loop when I thought of the 28.2 miles I had left to cover.  Deby had finished her volunteer gig at the mid-way aid station and was back at the main aid now.  She was a huge help. She told me to not think about what miles I had left to cover but to think instead about how far I had already come, 71.8~this was more than I had ever covered in one shot.  Pretty awesome.  Okay.  Then she told me to remember the hardest thing I'd ever been through and how I'd gotten through that.   I could get through this too. I was here to do this. Jess Mullen, a local accomplished ultra runner working the aid station,  told me to remember that I wanted to be here.  She and I both laughed at this, as I replaced tears with this good feeling of shared understanding.  Van felt my running vest and said it was too heavy.  I remembered now I was carrying my lights that I no longer needed and all of my extra night layers. I replaced it with a small vest I'd been wearing earlier in the run.   All of this support and encouragement helped me get out there again.

     Once out on the trail, Angel and I began to work more and more like an intuitive team.  We made plans before we hit each aid station. We used strategy to keep on moving forward, no matter how much I had slowed. I moved steadily and my splits remained surprisingly consistent throughout these rougher miles.  Angel and I played “Truth” and told each other great stories about our lives.  We learned a lot in those dark hours about each other, and about ourselves. Tonya stuck with us until her own toe pain was too intense.  Her husband Allen Skytta was working at the mid-way aid station and so she joined him when her going got too rough.

     At the beginning of loop 9, the cut-off loomed ahead in my mind.  I began to think I was going to get pretty close.  It was time to amp up the speed. Angel helped by having me run to different signs hanging on the endless chain link fence.  This worked and helped push me through to the fastest loop I'd had with her yet.  I was suffering blisters and all kinds of pains here and there at this point. It was rough going. I pushed on. I wanted to finish. Angel had invested so much energy and time with me. It was necessary to remember it was not just about me at this point. It was about us. It was about Angel and I and everyone I'd mouthed off to about running my first 100 miler. I was going to finish this thing .


photo by Tonya Hoffman

     Our turn around for loop 10 was super fast. I wanted to put on my new Pigtails bandana for this loop.  It had been in my swag bag I'd gotten before the race. This was part of the plan. I'd earned that adorable little bandana now, and yet I hadn't quite.  Jess made us coffee and we took off down the trail with the cups in our hands.  We had to go down the  steep hill first and so I slammed down my coffee before I got to it.  It was an interesting and ridiculous looking movement that got me down that hill.  Ahead in the distance I saw a Rasta man and some others.  The red, gold and green tam stood tall as I looked far ahead down the trail. I wondered what his business might be. A young, athletic looking runner flew by and I called to her that I wished I had her form right now.  Angel laughed.  The runner ran through the Rasta man and the others alongside the trail up ahead. I was now getting closer.   My brain had not been working clearly for many hours and now its fuzziness was thicker.  I got  to these people along the trail . I looked up and before me were friends, Ras Scott and his wife Tasha.  They had with them their two children, their daughter Ilah and their son Nijah.  They were here for me.  They were along the trail to cheer me on, on my final loop around Lake Youngs.   It was very surreal and touching. We hugged and they trekked a short distance with us. I said goodbye and off we went.


photo by Ras

     Now Angel and I carried with us the good feeling we had gotten from this familiy's presence on the trail.  They had come for us.  Soon, a vibrant and experienced looking ultra running couple came towards us in good form.  I'd not seen such good form for a while on the trail on any ultra runner.  Shortly Angel called out because she could see it was our friends Sophia Walker and Joel Bellezza out for a morning run.  They greeted us warmly and continued on.  They were here to both get in a good run and to cheer on Pigtails runners this morning.


photo by Tonya Hoffman

     We marched on and on.  The end was in sight.  The final loop.  It was getting harder to keep moving,  yet easier at the same time.   I was on a roller coaster of emotions.  When I'd see the hills up ahead, I wanted to log roll down them; it seemed like it would be really fun and a much easier way to get down.   I could see other runners running it in on their final loop and this felt great. My friend  Stacey Nievweija was working at the mid-way aid station now with her son. As Angel and I approached it for our final time on this adventure, she came running towards us like a deer.  She looked so light and graceful. Her cute 12 year old son Keegan then ran up and said “good job”.  This felt uplifting.  The end was getting nearer.

     Just when Angel and I thought we could come up with no other distractions for our worn out minds, up came Sophia and Joel from behind.   They would escort us in the final 3 miles or so.  It was such perfect timing.  It proves the beauty and selflessness of the ultra running community I am amongst.  They had come back around and would slow to a crawl to help me finish my first 100 miler, because that would feel special to them too.   


photo by Tonya Hoffman

      I felt distracted and happy to have lively conversation now all around me.  Occasionally Joel would ask me a question that was easy to answer, yet funny or meaningful.  It helped a lot and he sprinkled these in at just the right times.  Soon up ahead another runner came towards us with two dogs.  She had bright green compression socks on and cute pink running shoes.  I wondered what she was up to for the morning.  She had no race number on and I didn't recognize her.  She started hooting and calling out in a friendly way.  I thought it was nice and that she was a local runner, happy to help encourage one of the Pigtails runners.  When we got right up to the runner, I could clearly see it was Tonya.  She had come back to run with us the final stretch home.  This was a special moment. It was odd that I was recognizing no one this morning.

    I could "smell the oats in the barn".  It was just the single crap section, the houses, the water tower, the junk yard, the T.  And that was it.  I ran down from the T and hooted. No matter how much trekking I'd done on any of the loops, I always ran it in from the T, in good style.   A group of voices sounded from below and I just kept heading towards them.  It was time to cross the finish line and then I could stop moving.  I could stop with the relentless forward progress already.

     It felt unreal. It still feels unreal.   The little family had stayed at the finish line to wait for over 3 hours.  Ras was there, resting in a chair after finishing his 200 miler in 67:27. Allen was there, waiting for Tonya and to cheer for me too. The final finisher before me and a new friend, Jules Mann was there with his wife Mihaela, his new Pigtails bandana tied scout -style proudly around his neck.   Trey Bailey of Uphillrunning.com was there with his girlfriend Laura Kay, who had brought me a huge and yummy soy mocha from Starbucks.   Jess , Van and her husband Ken were patiently awaiting my finish before they could close down the race scene for the weekend. Van had spent 4 days taking excellent care of runners. She had put together a great event, and held it together all weekend.  Matt and Betsey Rogers were there.  They'd also been at my first 50 mile finish where I'd also DFL'd.  And they didn't care that I'd DFL'd.  Turns out nobody did.   Van handed me the cute Pigtails Challenge 100 Mile belt buckle.  I'd finished in 31:37 minutes, beating the cut-off and the 8 runners who didn't finish.


photo by Ras

photo by Ras


photo by Ras


photo by Ras


photo by Ras



photo by Ras



photo by Ras

photo by Trey Bailey of UphillRunning.com


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim: 2013 Only Known Time #1


Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim to Rim:
   
2013 Only Known Time #1
First Ever Sextuple Crossing of the Grand Canyon Trip Report



photo by Alvin Lubrino
by Ras

     I got this Facebook message less than 48 hours before my friend and I were supposed to leave for the Grand Canyon to attempt six consecutive crossings via Bright Angel Canyon, along the South Kaibab Trail and North Kaibab Trail:
"Hey, I may have to cancel/postpone. : ( . On pretty routine run, I rolled my ankle. Its not the worst sprain, but with the task in front of us I dont think it would be wise for me to go until it heals."
     When I read those words I had an immediate panic response; my heart rate elevated, blood started rushing in my ears, and the world seemed to kaleidoscope away from me to a distant point, like a portentous hallway elongating before your eyes in a horror film. In an instant months of planning, focus, gear acquisition, scheduling, and mental rehearsal teetered on the brink of collapse. 

     As is its want, my brain immediately began running through the new logistical challenges that I faced; My car won't make it that far. That's a ton of driving to do solo. What would it cost to rent a car? Can I hop in with someone else already heading to Arizona? I better Google Map the route. Can I drive straight through in one push?

     But as I filled Kathy in on this development I felt the resolve coalesce within me. One of my mottos, which has proven itself over and over again, is that stubbornness trumps skill and preparation. My parents must have told me 'no' thousands of times as a child, but I still hate hearing it. Whether it's from a friend, an employer, the government, or the universe itself, 'no' is an answer I am rarely willing to accept. Within myself I said, "Alright, Universe, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that if you wanna stop me."


     Running from one rim of the Grand Canyon down, across, and up to the opposite rim, then reversing course back to your starting point is one of the classic test pieces of ultrarunning. Years ago, as a backpacker morphing into a budding trail runner, and still somewhat inexperienced, I marveled at the idea of a single crossing of the Grand Canyon. The idea of a double crossing, the rim to rim to rim as it's known, seemed a superhuman feat belonging to the rarified realm of the elite endurance athlete. I didn't think it was something I could ever do. In fact, I doubted that I would ever even meet someone who could do it. I didn't move in those circles (although now I'm known for moving in circles) and didn't know those people. And I, myself, certainly wasn't one of them. But years later I would come to reevaluate that conclusion.

     When I drove into the South Kaibab Trailhead parking lot in my rented Chevy Cruze it was just after 11:00pm Friday night. My original goal had been to start a few hours earlier than this and have an entire crossing completed and much of the return trip before it got light, while it was still cool. But this was beyond even considering at this point. I wandered around a little bit with a headlamp to stretch my legs, then got into the passenger seat, reclined it, set my alarm for 6:00 am, and fell asleep. I knew that a 6:00 am start was by no means considered early for the rim to rim to rim, but I was already mind-numbingly tired from all the windshield time and had no choice but to get some rest before I began.


     At this point, what I should have done was just hang out and rest all the next day, sleep as much as possible, and then start in the mid evening, as I had planned, but 24 hours later. But I still thought I could complete the triple-double in about 48 hours and then drive home and be back to work two days later. Fortunately, the friend I've been working with is a runner and is super supportive of my adventures, allowing me lots of flexibility when plans go awry.

     My alarm sounded after what seemed like only a few minutes. I was very slow waking up and dragging myself out of the car. It was disheartening to realize that I was already exhausted, and I hadn't even taken my first step yet. But I was here to do this. I busied myself with getting my pack ready, eating and taking my supplements and dressing as I did so. 

     Just as I was getting ready to put my pack on, a park service employee approached me and asked if I had a backcountry permit. I told him no, as I was just a day hiker. He was really kind and warned me that without a backcountry permit parking pass my car would likely get ticketed, and told me where I could park for free on the shoulder of the road about 1/4 mile away. I thanked him, relocated the car, and hiked back to the trailhead. 

     I was carrying all of my calories for all six crossings from the start, as well as all of the gear I would need for cold weather and running through the night. My plan was not to access my car or any sort of food cash for the entire 126 miles. To my mind, this was in keeping with the Alpine ethic of completing a route "in good style". That was my goal, first and foremost  Speed was at most a tertiary consideration.


photo by Ras

     I took a couple of photos, calibrated my altimeter, started my SPOT transponder, wrote my start time on my leg in Sharpie, and dropped in at the top of the South Kaibab Trail, wending my way through the tourists and hikers. It was enjoyable and invigorating to finally be beginning this challenge, but it was also awkward. I had never actually run in my new pack before, and I had not been doing any running in a weighted pack recently. Intellectually I understood the benefits of having most of my heavy food in the front pack to aid my forward lean from the ankles, but translating that into comfortable movement was a less than instantaneous adjustment. I soon conceptualized my front pack as a prosthetic beer belly, and for some reason that made it more manageable mentally.


photo by Ras

     As my mind was working on these adjustments, my vocal chords were as busy as can be. My entire first descent of the South Kaibab was a ninety minute long mixtape of freestyled warnings, pleasantries, thanks, and well wishes. "On your left! Thanks! Enjoy your trip! On your left! Thank you! Have a great hike! On your left! Oops! Okay, on your right then! No worries! Thank you very much! Have Fun! On your left!" My voice was hoarse by the time I reached the Kaibab bridge over the Colorado River. 


photo by Ras

     During this down run I was actually indulging in such hubris that I began thinking about the possibility of doing a quad-double. After all, I was already at the Grand Canyon and had invested the time and money to get here, and who knew when I might have the chance again? If my legs held out, I thought I might be able to resupply at my car after the third rim to rim to rim, and then just treck out a fourth. This delusion did not last long.


photo by Ras

     The climb up to the North Rim is 14 miles long and quite gradual for the first 7 miles or so, with some rolling sections. I pulled out my trekking poles and began quickly poling up the inclines, and continued running the flats and brief downhills. Just a couple of miles past Phantom Ranch I met a Park Services employee named Matt coming the other way. He asked me what I was up to and I told him I was on an extended day hike. (This is how I described my trip because I did not have a backcountry permit, as I was not using any camp sites. Rangers on the Wonderland Trail have told me that they consider people running the trail to be dayhikers, so I assumed this applied here as well.)

     He gave me a brief, friendly lecture about trail etiquette, asking that I call out ahead of time to hikers and tourists before I pass, so as not to scare them. He also quickly went over Leave No Trace techniques, and I assured him that I was on board with all of that, that it was the only way I traveled trail. I could tell this was a prepared spiel, and deduced that the Park Service was concerned about ultra runners not playing well with others.


photo by Ras

     He asked me if I was doing the rim to rim to rim, and I admitted that I was attempting the first ever triple rim to rim to rim. I showed him my jars of nut butter, listed off all of my cold weather gear for overnight, and showed him my SPOT transponder. He said, "Okay, so if you get tired you can just lay down on the trail and spoon out some almond butter and nap?" I told him yes, indeed, that was the plan. He told me he would be at Phantom Ranch and to stop in and let him know which crossing I was on if he was around. He was friendly and cool and supportive.

     By this point it was 100 degrees in the canyon, and I was really feeling the heat. I would run and treck for a half mile or so, and then find a cool rock in the shade and sit for three minutes or so to allow my core temperature to tick down a few notches. Without fail, each time I would sit down a fresh, perky, and surprisingly clean runner would come around the next corner, making it look easy. I was barely a twelfth of the way into my trip, and I was already struggling a bit. This was indeed going to be epic, where 'epic' means brutally hot, painful, and humbling. Just what I love about ultra running.

photo by Ras

     I had two Globespun Gourmet Thai Wraps with me that I intended to eat as soon as possible, because they were heavy and could possibly spoil. I like big, long climbs because they give me the opportunity to eat a bunch of solid food and digest while I am climbing. That way it can move further into my digestive tract before I begin down running. I ate my first Thai Wrap and it was delicious.

photo by Ras

     I leapfrogged from shady rock to shady rock, chatting briefly with other ultra runners as they passed me on their way back to the South Kaibab. I had followed the accepted protocol for Fastest Known Time attempts by posting my intentions all over Facebook and the Fastest Known Time site maintained by Peter Bakwin Fastest Known Time - Grand Canyon, so there were more than a few people who talked to me that knew what I was attempting. It was amazing and intimidating. Knowing that people were paying attention to my attempt added a little bit of pressure and motivation to get the thing done, but I was beginning to have doubts.

     Just above Roaring Springs a young woman ran down past me, then two guys running down called out to me, "Hey remember us from White River two years ago?" One of them said, "I just read you blog about the Double Wonderland. Man! That was epic!" Then a realization dawned on him and he asked, "What are you doing here?" I told him and all three of them (the young woman had hiked back up to us) gave me first bumps. I said, "Well, I haven't even done one crossing yet, so it's a bit premature to give me any credit." They pshawed that, offered encouragment, and ran off with the ease of adequately trained athletes performing at a sustainable level. I slogged on.

photo by Ras

     When I reached the North Rim it was wonderfully cold and breezy. I filled my water and took a proof picture by one of the trailhead signs, and just sat and drank water until I was wonderfully chilled. I was shivering, and my hands were going numb, and it felt wonderful. I knew I would warm up again as soon as I dropped a few hundred feet back into the canyon, so I enjoyed the chill as my core temperature dropped.  

photo by Ras

     I did run fairly well dropping back into the canyon, but was moving a bit slow because of the heat. I made sure to drink all my water when I knew I was nearing the next water source. I was feeling a little shaky, but basically okay as I descended to the heat of the canyon floor.

     I found a rain shell someone had dropped just below the North Rim. I put it in my pack and carried it for the rest of the trip. So it became one of only two rain shells to traverse the Grand Canyon six times in a single push.    

photo by Ras

     I really enjoy running through the night solo in part because of the opportunity to see wildlife. Each time I saw eyes reflecting my headlamp in the distance I would pull out my camera in hopes of capturing something exotic. But it was mostly deer bedded down just off the trail. I did get a quick glimpse of a fox, but it was too shy and quick for me to photograph. Bats were constantly swooping into my headlamp beam to catch bugs, which thrilled me.  

photo by Ras

      Then I made an amateurish mistake. At Phantom Ranch I refilled my two 750 ml water bottles, but neglected to fill the one liter collapsible bottle I was carrying. I knew that there was no water for the next seven miles, but had become a little confused. I thought I remembered seeing a bunch of tourists getting water at a spot about 1500 feet below the south rim. But I was wrong.   

photo by Ras

     I ate my other Thai Wrap and washed it down with a generous amount of water. It was incredibly hot considering it was now after dark. And there were brutal winds, with gusts up to 40 mph. A couple of times these gusts caught me off guard and send me stumbling toward the abyss on the downhill side of the trail. From then on I hugged the uphill side of the trail. My eyes and mouth were continuously being filled with grit. I quickly finished the last of my water, under the illusion that I would soon reach a water source. 

     When I am on long runs like this I like to take micro naps. When my brain gets fuzzy and my thoughts become unclear, I will simply lay down on the side of the trail for a few minutes, then suddenly snap awake surprisingly refreshed. But climbing up the South Kaibab Trail I was seeing lots of scorpions. They were not aggressive, but when they moved they were disconcertingly fast. I couldn't get past the idea that they would climb on my while I was asleep, then sting me when I absent mindedly reached to scratch the tickle of their footsteps. So I would just sit on a rock with my head resting in my hands until I fell over and woke up, then move on again. A few times I found big, flat rocks that were elevated well above the trail tread. I would inspect around the base of these and make sure there were no scorpions lying in wait, then curl up on top of the rock for 5 or 10 blissful minutes of rest.

photo by Ras

     Not only was I out of water for the last three hours of my first rim to rim to rim, but because of that I couldn't eat. My main fuel source was plain almond butter, and with the horrendous cottonmouth and dry throat I was suffering, there was no way I could choke down nut butter. So for the last 5 miles of my first crossing I had nothing to eat and notheing to drink, and when I finally arrived at the South Kaibab Trailhead, I had been brutalized by the canyon and my own poor planning.

photo by Ras

     The temperature had dropped considerably as I climbed, but the winds had not abated. As I filled my water bottles I began to shiver violently. I think the self shot photo above aptly portrays my physical and mental state. For the first time ever, I seriously doubted whether I would be able to continue. I didn't seem prudent to drop back into the canyon in the shape I was in. There are signs along the South Kaibab that state the old mountaineering saw in reverse; going down is optional, getting back up is mandatory.

     But one of the things I love about crazy distances is that there is time to make mistakes, suffer, then recover and continue on. I was in no hurry. I didn't have to beat anyone's time, I simply had to complete the distance. So I filled all my water containers and barricaded myself in one of the restrooms to escape the wind. I put on all my cold weather gear, a wool shirt, a wool neck gaitor, a puffy down jacket and pants, two hats, and my liner gloves and mitts, and reclined against the wall of the shitter. I drank about three liters of water and ate a bunch of almond butter, coconut butter, crystallized ginger, and dried mango.  

photo by Ras

     After about two hours I felt greatly revivified and decided that it would be safe to continue on with my adventure. I dropped over the rim and began descending the South kaibab Trail for the second time. It felt like dropping into a huge halfpipe that was beyond my skill level, not knowing if I would be able to successfully land my air at the other lip.

photo by Ras

     It also occured to me that running rim to rim is like the first stages of life. It's easy to attribute archetypal female characteristics to the canyon, considering its basic form. And the quick down run into the canyon struck me as reminiscent of the flagella driven swim that begins each of our lives. The Traverse across the canyon floor is is akin to a gestation. And the exhausting, head crushing climb to the opposite rim has all the strain and trauma of birth. And I was here to repeat this birth ritual six times. Each rim to rim was like an incarnation.

photo by Ras

     As I neared Roaring Spring on the second double crossing, a young Park Service employee starting running along with me. "You're Jason, aren't you?" he asked, and I confirmed it. He said, "We all think what you're doing is really cool. Some of these runners that come through are kinda (he made a noise implying mild distaste), but you seem like a cool guy." I was flattered and stoked. It was supercool to have all the rangers and Park Service personal being so supportive. It was just one more reason I couldn't give up. We talked about Altra Zero Drop Shoes for a bit, then he took off, breezily floating off ahead of me with effortless form.

photo by Ras

     Things were going much better now. The second day was cloudy and mild, which was a blessed relief. Another 100 degree day may have been untenable. I seem to be reverse solar powered, and direct sun would have slowed me to a crawl. 

photo by Ras

     I made moderate progress on my fourth crossing, hiking a lot of flat ground that I really should have been running, but continuously moving forward. Another Park Service employee greeted me by name and said she would radio the Phantom Ranch Ranger with an update on my progress. She offered me a couple of Lara bars, which I declined politely. I was again amazed and bouyed by this support and encouragement, and felt unworthy of both the faith placed in me and the opportunity to attempt such a thing.

photo by Ras

     Climbing up the South Kaibab Trail for the second time, this time with my 1 liter bottle full as well as my 2 750 ml bottles, I was overwhelmed by the impact of the mule trains. There were numerous spots on the trail where there were standing puddles of mule piss, with rivulets running out of them down the center of the trail. Most of that 7 mile climb just reeked of mule urine and feces. To a great degree the South Kaibab is a pack trail more so than a hiking trail, and there were constant reminders of this. I couldn't help but dwell on the irony of hikers and runners being asked to use leave no trace techniques on a trail that was little more than a 7 mile long latrine for the beasts of burden of the mule skinners. But admittedly, I was a little cranky at that point.

photo by Ras

     I reached the South Rim for the second time about 2 hours later than on my first rim to rim to rim. Again I holed up in the restroom to get out of the wind, drank a bunch of water, ate a meal's worth of calories, rested a little, and prepared myself mentally to drop into the canyon again.

photo by Ras

     This was where it got real. This was uncharted territory. And this was where I love to be. Now I suddenly knew I had it. I only needed to cover 42 more miles, and it didn't matter how slowly I did it. I could just hike the entire thing if that's all the speed I was able to make. And I knew that I could do that no matter what. In humble amazement at the grand scope of human potential, I dropped into the Grand Canyon for my third and final rim to rim to rim.

photo by Ras

     Again it was blessedly cool. Apparently the canyon had been satisfied after handing my ass to me on the first double. I had been brought down off my high horse, shown my frailty and vulnerability, and then mercifully granted a reprieve. And I was happy to accept. With the canyon's permission, I continued on.

photo by Ras

     The third day dawned cloudy and cool. It was perfect weather, with brief occasional sun breaks to keep things cheery, but blessed cloud cover that kept the temperatures just on the cool side of perfect. As I climbed up the North Kaibab Trail there were a few brief cloudbursts and a short hailstorm. I got to try the built in pack cover and rain shell included in my new pack, and was pleased that, with a little contorting, I was able to deploy them both without having to remove the pack. Later I was also able to stow them without taking the pack off, just as I had hoped.

photo by Ras

     My phone had died very early in my trip. I had been looking forward to being able to post updates throughout my trip and talk to Kathy a couple of times a day, but instead I ended up carrying a useless and broken cell phone. I was able to get it to turn on one final time just long enough to get my in-laws phone number so that I could call Kathy, who was visiting them during my trip. 

     I had seen the Phantom Ranch Ranger earlier in the day just a couple of miles from Cottonwood Camp, and she had told me that if I made it back to Phantom Ranch by 9:00pm I could use the phone in the ranger's station to call Kathy. This had become my all-encompassing mission. 


photo by Ras

     When I topped out at the North Rim for the third time, I was stoked. I had made the climb exactly on schedule, averaging 1000 of elevation gain feet per mile. I was 105 miles deep, with only 21 miles to go. For me 21 miles is very doable. There's never a time that I can't cover 21 miles by foot. But now I needed to average almost 5 miles per hour in order to call Kathy.

   I surprised myself how well I ran those 14 miles to Phanton Ranch. It was one of the hardest pushes that I have ever made in my running career. I fell shy of my 9:00pm goal, but still risked bothering the Ranger. She was super kind and let me use the phone. What a blessing it was to hear Kathy's voice. But as I sat there in the air conditioned office I could feel my energy and drive dissipating, and I knew I had to keep moving.

     The Ranger offered me some macadamia nuts, which were very tempting, but I declined them, explaining that I wanted to complete this unsupported, and therefore couldn't accept them.

     That final climb up the South Kaibab took forever. I was falling asleep on my feet. On two occasions I had been slowly climbing with my trekking poles, then suddenly woke up sitting on the side of the trail, not even realizing I had sat down. Climb, nap, climb, repeat. I would force myself to take 100 steps before I could rest, then lean on my poles for a moment before another push of 100 steps.

     

photo by Ras

     I had started off writing my splits for each time I hit one of the rims on my thigh in blue Sharpie, but it was quickly smeared by sweet and became illegible. So I switched to writing my times on my left calf sleeve, the underneath one that was protected by the Zensah sleeves I was wearing over them. When I completed my third rim to rim to rim, I took a picture of myself by the trailhead sign, wrote my final time on my calf sleeve, and let out a quiet celebratory, "Woo!" Then I hiked to my car, drank three boxes of tepid of soup, and crashed out in the passenger's seat with my pillow and sleeping bag for eight hours of deep, blessed sleep.

photo by Ras


Food: 8820 total calories


Tasty Bites Bombay Potatoes 260 calories

Belly Timber Bar Organic Dark Chocolate 2 x 320 calories

PCC Dried Mango Slices 800 calories

PCC Crystallized Ginger 800 calories

Primal Strips Thai Peanut Meatless Vegan Jerky 4 x 75 calories

Globespun Gourmet Thai Wrap 2 x 400 calories

Reeds Ginger Chews 4 x 25 calories

Justin's Classic Almond Butter 16oz jar 2520 calories

Nutiva Coconut Manna 13 oz (not quite a full jar) 2600 calories


Supplements:


Extreme Endurance lactic acid buffer

MAP - Master Amino Acid Pattern amino acid supplement


Garden Of Life Perfect Food RAW green super food

Ibuactin wholistic anti-inflammatory

Nuun electrolyte enhanced drink tabs: 6 servings Kona Cola, 6 servings Lemon Lime

Jet-Alert caffeine pills (I'm not proud of using these, but am listing them in a spirit of full disclosure. There are two things I find especially funny about their slogan, "Fast acting, easy t' take". First is that folksy construct of dropping the 'o' from the word 'to' and replacing it with an apostrophe. It's a grammatical shortcut with which I was previously unfamiliar, and which seems at best to net you zero. Second is the implication that what consumers dislike about competing brands of caffeine pills is that they are prohibitively difficult t' take.)


Gear:


Ultrabag MDS pack, by WAA Ultra Equipment, a european manufacturer. This particular model is designed and branded for the Marathon Des Sables. Includes built in rainproof pack cover and rain shell, as well as two 750ml water bottles

Camelback collapsable 1 liter unbottle

Altra Lone Peak shoes (original version)


Smartwool toesocks

Smartwool neck gaiter


Turtlefur fleece hat

No-name fleece hat bought from a sale bin in a gas station

Swix cross-country ski mitts with REI merino wool liner gloves

Pendleton long sleeve button up wool shirt

Western Mountaineering Hooded Flash Jacket 850+ fill down

Western Mountaineering Flash Pants 850+ fill down

white calf sleeves

Zensah calf sleeves (both sets at the same time)


Altra Zero Drop Footwear provided short sleeve tech shirt

Asics shorts

Salomon brimmed hat without neck drape


Black Diamond Ultra Distance Z-poles trekking poles, custom hybrid 103cm size. Last season and the year before I used a pair of the 110cm poles. I use really short poles because I only use them for climbing and want to carry less weight the rest of the time. I broke one of the 110s about 3 miles from the end of the Double Wonderland, with somewhere in the range of 1500 miles on them. This year I bought a pair of the 100cm poles, the shortest they make. The tip broke off of the left one at the Lumberjack 100 miler, with less than 170 miles on them. Very disappointing, Black Diamond. I couldn't afford a second brand new pair this year, so I combined pieces from the two broken pairs, affixing the slightly longer bottom sections from my 110s onto the new 100s 

Black Diamond Spot headlamp. This is another piece of expensive Black Diamond gear that broke scandalously early in its life, just after the Double Wonderland on a run around Mt St Helens on the Loowit Trail. I think of Black Diamond as a top notch mountaineering gear manufacturer and have chosen their gear for backcountry projects for that reason, but that logic has not been born out by my two most recent purchases. I have run two 100 mile races and set one world record with a piece of duct tape to hold the beam at the correct angle

Go Motion Waist Light Kit 100 (100 lumens)


Asio watch with barometric altimeter

Nokia prepaid cell phone, which quit working permanently

Sony Cybershot 14.1 megapixel digital camera (Yes, I'm so old school my phone and my camera and my mp3 player are three separate pieces of gear)

Sony Walkman mp3 players, two of them; one fully charged, the other supposedly fully charged


SPOT transponder

2Toms Sports Shield

3 extra AAA lithium batteries for headlamp or SPOT transponder


Sharpie, blue
     

photo by Alvin Lubrino

Officials times:

Start South Kaibab Trailhead Sat 05/04/20123 8:12 AM

North Kaibab Trailhead (1st) Sat 05/04/2013 3:41 PM

South Kaibab Trailhead (1st) Sun 05/05/2013 1:37 AM

North Kaibab Trailhead (2nd) Sat 05/05/2013 3:18 PM

South Kaibab Trailhead (2nd) Sun 05/06/2013 3:43 AM

North Kaibab Trailhead (3rd) Sat 05/06/2013 5:31 PM

Finish South Kaibab Trailhead (3rd) Sun 05/07/2013 4:22 AM


17:25 for a single unsupported Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim (2 crossings)

43:31 for a double unsupported Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim (4 crossings)

68:10 for a triple unsupported Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim (6 crossings)

     I carried all of my calories and gear from the very beginning. I never accessed any sort of resupply or drop bag or food cache, and I politely refused any food offered to me be people on the trail. I also carried all of my trash until the very end. It amounted to only a fist-sized baggie full of wrappers, an empty almond butter jar, and a mostly empty coconut butter jar.

Give Thanks For Life!