By Jeff Garmire
Cocodona isn’t only a long race; it is a commitment to days of racing. Last year the winner, Michael Versteeg, took over three days to finish. At 250 miles, a sleep strategy is as essential as a nutrition strategy. It is the one thing I entered the 2021 Cocodona with the confidence that I could navigate.
The race starts early, but this works in our favor. With a 5 am start, runners can show up after a full night of sleep. The batteries are fully charged, and days of racing don’t seem so bad. But, as the first night comes, the miles of pounding dirt through the first 10k feet of gain begin to take their toll. Sooner than you would expect, the yearning for sleep begins to creep in. Managing this pull to rest for the next few days becomes one of the most significant obstacles of the race.
My sleep experience at Cocodona
I had years of experience with sleep deprivation before Cocodona, but I had never tiredly cruised through an organized race in an exhausted or hallucinating state. The options and ability to sleep were much more prevalent than on any FKT. There are seven sleep stations along the route, and when hobbling into an aid station, they have a strong pull. It would be easy to give in to fatigue, but my strategy was to push as far as possible before the first nap.
A group of us entered the first night, and we stuck together. At each aid station, we took a few minutes to regroup, but our strategy was to continue on, without rest. The reward was the first light of morning. It lit up the world as we entered Whiskey Row, and with it came renewed energy and pride in navigating night one successfully. It was a confidence booster.
Sticking with other runners through the night offered camaraderie, confidence, and support.
The second day is sluggish
As the hours awake ticked past 24, the focus, drive, and speed suffered greatly. Should we have slept during the first night? Maybe, but pushing through the first day got us into a rhythm. We accepted the race, its length, and what it would require. We were in the middle of it, not close to the beginning or end. The long push to start Cocodona helped the mindset seep in. What we may have given up physically helped us mentally. The other runners who pushed through the night with us all finished very strongly. Cocodona requires as much (or more mentally) as it does physically, and adopting our mentality early aided in the long run.
I stuck with another runner throughout the second day, and we simply went from aid station to aid station. There was no concept of how many miles were left or how many we had gone, only merely how many miles were between the aid stations.
We jogged the downs, but there was less running on day two. The fatigue was complete but comfortable. It was all part of the experience.
For the first 24 hours, I stuck to the nutrition that I had trained with, but by the morning of day two, I was taking in full meals, and my stomach was doing well. It had been a complete transition from a run to an adventure. The fueling strategy became more psychological.
The next night
Closing in on 48 hours, I was tired, so I took a quick dirt nap. I slept for a couple of minutes and felt strangely rejuvenated. I didn’t set an alarm, only depended on the wind, chill, and the elements to wake me when it was time for my body to get moving again. The simple act of shutting my eyes has always helped reset my sleep clock. But, it works even better when immediately upon waking from a dirt nap, I brush my teeth. It is the fundamental reset using a morning routine. A bit of freshness in a completely unfresh situation, and it works every time.
Finding one routine or technique that you can lean on as a mental reset queued by a physical action is one of the best ways to uplift tired spirits and immediately refocus on the task at hand.
Hallucinations
What is the wildest part of sleep deprivation? Of course, it is the hallucinations. The remaining days and nights blurred together. I knew I was tired, and many of the runners were taking extended naps. But, without a crew, I was not confined to the aid stations. The dirt was my bed, and I took short quick bursts of sleep and then kept moving. It was not enough, and reality began to shimmer.
Somewhere north of Sedona, the first stick began to slither. Stumps morphed into abandoned machinery, and my mind was full of tricks. Just before Fort Tuthill, I could see a large construction crew paving the gravel road far ahead. But once I arrived, no one was there. It was empty. It wasn’t scary, but it was weird. The key to working through the hallucinations was accepting that they weren’t real. I could see and enjoy the things that were out of place as long as I acknowledged that my reality was fuzzy.
Two strategies that I have found to be successful in running through hallucinations are having periodic check-ins. I check the GPS track more frequently to confidently stay on route and track my nutrition on a micro-level. Late in the race, at each aid station, I put the food I hope to eat before the next aid station in a pocket and then check in throughout the segment to ensure I am making progress. It is as much about fueling as it is about the confidence that I am staying present and engaged in the race.
Final Takeaways
Sleep deprivation is weird. It can creep into a 100-mile race, but when the course is 2.5 times longer, it is certain to play a role. Having a few strategies and the awareness that it will happen is essential in enjoying the 250 miles of Cocodona.