Black Canyon 100K: the 2020 version…

Perfect weather for a run through the Black Canyon.

This was my second running of the Black Canyon 100K, having first run it in 2017:  a very wet year, my “Date in the Desert with Mark.”  This year, the weather was absolutely perfect:  a cool morning, highs in the upper 60s, a cool evening, and all kinds of sun with a slight breeze.  It was exactly what I was hoping for when our plane left from Minnesota with temps well below freezing, and a windchill well below zero.

Training

This was my second training cycle as a member of McMillan Run Team, which I joined in July 2019, as a way to find my way back into the fitness I lost when I tore my meniscus.  As such, I was hoping to build off of the previous cycle: The Fall 50 in Door County, Wisconsin.  The primary focus of this cycle was to increase my training time, and to increase the amount of hills, both up and down, even if they were all on an incline trainer/treadmill.  At the end of the day…

•weekly mileage increased from 46.4 to 48.2 miles/week
•weekly training time increased from 6.8 to 8.1 hours/week
•weekly elevation gain/loss increased from 745’/476′ to 3129’/1707′ per week.

Those numbers would have been a bit higher, but I missed two important 20+ long runs in the peak phase:  one due to illness, the other due to a blizzard.

The Event

Everything about the organization of this event was amazing, with the single exception of live tracking, which only mattered when it came to family being able to track my progress or lack thereof.  Aravaipa Running clearly has things figured out when it comes to handling an event like this.  The volunteers were amazing at every aid station, quickly asking what I needed, and when I said things such as “Where are the drop bags?”, I would typically get a response that went something like “What is your Bib number?  OK, let me get that for you,” while someone else was busy filling my water bottles and/or letting me know what the food/beverage options were.

Speaking of food, the options were plentiful – PBJ sandwiches, bean roll-ups, cheese quesadillas, a few varieties of cookies (Oreos became my race-day favorite), gummy worms, GU Roctane, Gatorade, Coke/sodas, water, and later in the day, hot chicken broth and Ramen.  I’m sure I am missing a few options here, but hopefully you get the idea.  And GU gels were available to pack for the next segment.

I also appreciated the lone dude at the last of four water crossings, just hanging out at the opposite bank, waiting for runners to cross, congratulating them on doing so well, and then pointing out the barbed wire on the ground that we needed to step over.  A very small but important detail that didn’t go unnoticed.

Lastly, the trail was impeccably marked, making it nearly impossible — even in the dark — to get lost.  So…a gigantic kudos to Aravaipa Running.  In 2017, they did an awesome job in spite of the weather and having to alter the course.  This year, the race went off without a hitch, at least from my perspective.

The Race

I’m not going to try to recount my entire day:  I don’t have a good enough memory to keep track of things, but I did take a few photos along the way to capture a few memories.  Having said that, I opted to take the shuttle from Anthem Outlets to Mayer High School.  We arrived a little after 6am, and with a temperature right around freezing, I headed inside the high school to keep warm and to go to the bathroom.  Unfortunately, the school bathrooms were locked, so I had to venture back outside to get in line for all of ten porta-potties (for 700+ participants in the 100K).  Umm, OK, so this probably isn’t so good.

I was probably in line for 15 minutes, and after I was finished, headed back inside, only to discover that the indoor bathrooms were now open, and there was a long line for those as well.  I typically have to go through this routine twice before a race, so I just jumped right back in line, and waited.

It was roughly 6:50 before I got to the front of the line…just in time to take care of things and head out to the track for the 7am start.  When I got outside, I debated on wearing a jacket for the first few miles, but made a last-minute decision to just wear my short-sleeve tech shirt and go without a jacket or gloves (I live in MN after all, this is warm, right?)  I headed up to the track, and heard the announcer counting down from about 7.  So, I quickly made my way to the starting area, jumped in, and we were off.  No time to stand around and get cold.  That worked out well…once we started running, I warmed up pretty quickly.

The race started with a lap around the school’s dirt track, followed by heading out of town, briefly on paved road, then on dirt/gravel.  After a few miles, we turned onto what became the bulk of the rest of the day:  a mix of single track (primarily) and jeep road (occasionally).

So this is what the jeep road looks like when it’s dry.

In the 2017 version of the race, the course was significantly altered due to high river levels, so more than half of the 2020 course — the regular route — was new to me.  I felt pretty well prepared to finish this race in 13 hours or less, with an A goal of under 12 hours, but what I didn’t know was just how rocky the course would become as time went on.  The early miles were pleasant, easy running, and when we first got onto the single track, I tucked in the middle of a pack, and just ran contentedly for a while, knowing that if the pace was a little slower than I probably would have run if I were on my own, I was saving myself for the more strenuous hills to come after mile 37.

A single-track portion of the route, early in the day.

By mile 10, I began to feel hot spots on my feet (what, already???), and it wasn’t long before every step included a small amount of pain.  I thought my feet were going to be in horrible shape, even by the halfway point, so at the next aid station, I gave them a quick check:  no blisters, no redness…yet.  But apparently there was a little lateral freedom in my shoes, and my feet were sliding around just a little, especially in the rocky portions of the route.  This only got worse over time, and for much of the last two thirds of the race (so probably at least 40 miles), every step included some amount of pain in each foot.  It’s one of those things that just had to be dealt with:  “block it out…things could be worse.”

It was also somewhere in the first 10-12 miles that I took my one and only fall, tripping on a rock and careening off the trail.  I’ve gotten pretty good at protecting myself, letting less important body parts take the brunt of the impact, and I was lucky that there wasn’t a prickly pear cactus or a pile of rocks in my landing area.  My ankle did smack up against a rock, but it wasn’t nearly as severe as I anticipated.

One of the reasons I appreciate ultra marathons is to experience moments of quiet and solitude:  those moments when there are no other runners close enough to you to be bothering you with their conversation with a fellow runner, when you can’t hear someone breathing behind you or feel their feet practically on your heels (even if in reality they are 15+ feet away), when you don’t have to worry about asking someone in front of you to let you pass.  Because of the increased number of participants in Black Canyon, those moments didn’t begin for at least a couple of hours.  But, gradually, I began to find myself somewhat isolated on a winding trail, and managed to take a few photos along the way.

Did I mention it was a gorgeous day?

One of the water crossings (in the shadows), and the increasingly rocky trail heading to it.

I arrived at Black Canyon City — mile 37.4 — at approximately 2:30pm.  With 25 miles to go, I thought perhaps I could finish in five to six hours, giving me a total time of 12.5 to 13.5 hours.  That quickly went out the window, for a few reasons…

1. The last mile into Black Canyon City is an out and back, and BCC is also where the 60K finishes.  By the time I was heading back out, 60K runners were more and more frequently barreling down the trail to the finish, expecting those of us coming back up to step out of the way.  That’s fine, I get it, but it meant stepping off of the trail a lot to make room for runners.

If I remember correctly, this is looking back at Black Canyon City.

2.  It was getting warmer, and at times, the canyon seemed to hold in the heat.

3.  Rocks…so many rocks!

In the second half of the route, this is what I would classify as a “moderately easy” portion of the rocky trail.

The rest of the afternoon was spent just making progress as best I could.  After the last water crossing, I eventually made it to the Table Mesa — the last aid station that allowed drop bags (mile 50.9) — right around sunset, where I changed my shoes, put on a long sleeve tech shirt, a buff in place of my cap, and gloves.  In addition, I grabbed my handheld flashlight in the event that I needed more light than my headlamp supplied.  This turned out to be a crucial decision.  While my headlamp is fine for smooth trails where footing isn’t an issue, it did little to illuminate the rocky trail.

The last water crossing.  The tiny figure in the center of the photo, on the far bank, is a volunteer just hanging out and letting runners know there is barbed wire underfoot.

Upon leaving Table Mesa, darkness quickly fell upon the canyon, and with a few exceptions, as runners passed me or vice versa, I found myself mostly alone on the trail, in the dark.  And despite the pain in my feet, and knowing that I wasn’t anywhere close to the time I had hoped to achieve, I discovered the joy of night running (I use the term “running” loosely here).

Last time I ran this event, Mark and I finished in the dark, in the wind, in the rain, freezing our butts off, hoping to just survive to the finish after that mud-filled jeep road, before hypothermia overtook us:  in other words, not so much joy in that experience.  This year, I found myself thinking that if I was going to be out this long anyway, I might as well be running a 100M, not a 100K.  Not that I was disappointed to see the finish line, but there were a few moments where, if only my feet weren’t ready to kick me in the head for my inappropriate treatment of them, I wouldn’t have minded going a bit farther.  Hmm…

Finishing time:  15:16:40
Overall place:  311th (of 510 finishers)
Age group place (M50-59):  21st (of 99)

Next up:  once recovered, this spring and summer will include a return to shorter races and a fair amount of speed work, before entering into a marathon cycle in preparation for the Twin Cities Marathon in October 2020.

As always, thanks for reading!