Now that the dust has settled and I can move around without any fear of the tendons in my feet ripping apart, I think the time is right for a Black Canyon 100k race report.
A little background: I am not an elite runner. I am a hobbyist who started running a little over two years ago, and entered the trail running and ultra scene a year ago. Black Canyon 100K would just be my second 100k race. I am what Ben Gibbard (of Death Cab For Cutie fame) jokingly referred to as an “elite mid-packer.”
Also, I spent much of November and December with a nagging IT band issue, so my training was not what I was hoping for. On January 24 (three weeks before BC100k), I put together what I considered to be my strongest race ever in the Coldwater Rumble 52k, and followed it up later with a half marathon PR at Sedona a week later (which is not a course most would consider to be PR-friendly). So, despite the lack of a solid training cycle, I still felt like I was going into it in the best shape of my life.
Oh, and a week before the race, I sprained my ankle while goofing off in the Superstitions. Luckily it was mild, but it was on the mind.
One thing I did not have going into this race was expectations. I wanted to do well, obviously, but having only attended the middle of the three course preview runs, I didn’t have a whole lot of course familiarity. Also, Phoenix’s forecast high of 85 loomed as a potential game-changer – I expected a lot of carnage. As Michael Carson mentioned in his interview with Ultra Sports Live.TV, even those of us who live in Phoenix are no longer acclimated to hot weather at this time of year.
So, my strategy was simple: just take it easy. And take plenty of salt. I didn’t use any drop bags – just strapped on my Nathan hydration pack, threw in three or four chocolate Clif Shots (my favorite!), a bag full of salt tablets, an extra bottle (for electrolyte drinks), and a small flashlight.
I also loaded my GPS watch with the course map, but the course turned out to be well enough marked that I didn’t even have to look at it once.
The author a few miles into the race. Photo: Bret Sarnquist
At 7AM on Saturday, the moment arrived. It was more surreal than any race start I have attended. A full roster of elite ultrarunners were lined up at the front, with established veterans and young up-and-comers, and standouts in both the male and female division, hoping to claim an automatic bid for WS100. The figurative gun went off, and we started off with…a lap around the high school track. Nice touch!
To me, the most important part of any race is the beginning. The pace you choose makes a huge difference. And being very inexperienced at the 100k distance, I decided I should err on the side of caution, and go at a pace that feels very, very comfortable. No faster than 9:00/mile on a downhill, 10:00/mile on flatter terrain. I didn’t even think I could maintain those numbers late in the race, but at least they would feel slow at the beginning. It was tough watching a third of the field race ahead of me those first few miles. A mile in, while still on paved road, I looked down at my watch and saw 7:45, and immediately slowed down. Several runners passed me up during the first ten miles or so (spoiler alert: I saw all of them later on).
Because I was running at an easy pace, the first 20 miles were easy. After the Bumble Bee aid station, I continued to take it easy, but I started to pass people. This became the theme for the rest of the day. Runners slowing down, soaking in the creeks, gathering themselves at aid stations… And here I was, just having a great time!
I’m not saying that to brag, as much as I am to illustrate a point: patience early on in a race really pays off. I found the Strava activities for a lot of the runners I passed, and most of them were averaging between 8 and 9 minutes per mile the first 20 miles. I felt like I went out too fast, and all of these runners went out faster than I did. When you look at the math, you can run at an 11:30/mile pace the whole race, and still finish under 12 hours. And for those of us who are hobbyists, that’s a really solid time.
Running near Gloriana Mine around mile 23. Photo: Bret Sarnquist
Anyways, back to the race… After that beautiful stretch from Soap Creek AS (half way point) to Black Canyon TH, I hung out at the aid station for a few minutes eating food, drinking liquids, etc., it was off on the run again. This was the part of the race I was most worried about, but I felt solid going up the big hill after the creek crossing. Passed a few more people in that stretch, and actually created some space behind me, when by mile 43 or so, I started to get fatigued. I stopped to use a bush, and noticed my urine was bright yellow. I ate another Clif Shot, took a salt tablet, and started drinking a lot more water. This stretch into the Cottonwood Gulch aid station would be my slowest stretch of the race. Once I got there, I stopped and ate for a few minutes. A lot of bean burritos, and some potatoes, mostly.
Crossing the Agua Fria at mile 39. Photo: Bret Sarnquist
This seemed to do the trick. The four and a half miles to the next aid station were a breeze. I ran most of it. At one point, Julio Palma, who was the only runner who passed me after the 20 mile mark, caught up to me, but I actually beat him to the aid station by a minute or two. Feeling pretty good with just 11 or 12 miles in the race, I thought I had this one in the bag. I even did some math in my head, and sub-12 even seemed like a possibility! Honestly, going into the race, I would’ve been happy with sub-13!
Unfortunately, a mile after leaving the Table Mesa aid station, my hamstrings started to cramp…both of them. And my groin muscles started to cramp. I trudged on, trying not to overexert those muscles. Palma passed me (for good) going up that hill, but I still felt like I was doing OK, as I started coming up on another runner.This was Jesse Alexander from Camp Verde, AZ – I passed him before the top of the hill, but he caught up, and we even chatted a bit as we approached another runner. At this point, the cramps entered my diaphragm, and I had to do something. I looked at my sweat-crusted shirt, and speculated that I needed more salt. I hiked for about 30 seconds, took a salt tablet, and struggled into the final aid station just as Jesse was leaving.
At this point, I learned that it was just four miles to the finish. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, so I readied my flashlight, looked down at my watch, and saw… 11:19. Even after a rough stretch, 12 hours was still a possibility! The first mile and a half or so was easy, on a flat fire road – I think I actually managed to hit a 9:00/mile pace at one point (which now, unlike at the start of the race, seemed fast). It was then back onto single track, and now I was running by flashlight. Through a couple of washes and up a short hill (the only stretch I hiked after the last aid station), and I finally heard the cheering from the finish line. Almost there! Then I caught a visual on it, and ran on in… Looked at my watch, and it said – wait for it! – 12:00.
My official time was 12:00:22, for a 20th place finish. I was immensely happy about it (but still thinking that maybe – just maybe – I could’ve shaved off 23 seconds somewhere), even if it was three and a half hours slower than Ford Smith’s extremely impressive winning time.
Two days later, I’m having a few thoughts on this race:
- From an amateur’s perspective, I feel like I did everything I should, and it paid off handsomely. Although I would’ve liked to train better, I had a lot of patience at the beginning of the race, and it made my race. I actually managed to run most of the race. Furthermore, I managed to realize what was wrong when I had issues late in the race, and corrected them quickly.
- The heat really didn’t affect me as much as I thought it would. I was ascending the hill after Black Canyon AS during the hottest part of the day, but I didn’t even feel uncomfortable.
- This was just a really, really awesome race. I had a great time. The course was amazing, the volunteers were phenomenal, and it was just a great atmosphere. Easily the most fun I have had in a race. Only in its second year, I can see this being Arizona’s premier running event, and I hope it remains a part of the Montrail Ultra Cup.
Race report written by Jeremy Pager, 2015 Aravaipa Running Ambassador.