This was my third and final time at Black Canyon 100k. Josh took the photo above as the sunset on the trail, and that is for sure our sentiment on this race. The sun has set and it is time to move on. After three attempts and even one finish, I have never had a good race there. Honestly, the only reason I went back again was that Josh wanted redemption after last year, and with the upcoming 3-day stage race in Moab, I was going to be trained up for it anyway. The race was not a total loss, though, as Josh completed his first 100k. It was so fun to be there to support him at the Table Mesa aid station and watch him come through the finish. He lost some time at the end, with his vision going blurry and having to slow down to navigate the rocky trail. It wasn’t the race he wanted, but he made it, and I was so proud of him!

The Lead Up

My race story started before race day. Months ago, I offered to pick up an extra shift at work the week before the race. I figured if I worked the Saturday shift, I could take the next Thursday off to fly out for the race without using PTO. I would be working Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, but thought it shouldn’t be a problem. It was a one-time thing, and it was not like I was making that my new schedule. What I failed to recognize was I would be off Sunday and back to work Monday and Tuesday. I would be working five out of six days, which is more than I have done in 8 years. Josh was upset that I had offered to pick up the extra shift, and I reassured him that it would be fine. To be honest, I was envisioning writing a post about my success and how amazing it was that I worked 5 out of 6 days. Go me! *Spoiler alert – Josh was right, it was not fine.

By the end of my third day on Saturday, my brain was absolutely fried. I got off work at 4pm, came home, ate dinner and was in bed by 7 pm. I dragged myself out of bed, and we went for a run with friends on Sunday morning and then went to breakfast. I felt okay once we started running, but the restaurant was way too loud for me, and I didn’t have my ear filters. We came home, and I went back to bed for a couple of hours. I had planned to pack for the trip, but I was a zombie all day. With some help, I managed to organize my race nutrition, and went to bed at 7pm again.

Monday morning came too soon, and I wanted to cry. I struggled through two more days at work with double vision, light and sound sensitivity, and difficulty staying focused. I had to double-check all my drug calculations with a colleague because I didn’t trust myself. Migraines that used to be almost daily, have been well controlled at once or twice a month for the last two years. Pushing myself too far tipped that scale and they came on three days in a row. Even with 12 hours of sleep Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights, it still wasn’t enough to get out of the hole.

This state of cognitive fatigue is where I found myself trying to pack and prepare to fly to Phoenix to run 62 miles. It was not exactly how I wanted to go into this race, and I was so mad at myself for not just using a damn PTO day. Traveling down to Phoenix was the worst I have felt traveling in many years. After two really big international trips last year, where I felt great and even watched movies on the plane, I was back to wearing a hat, sunglasses, and noise-canceling headphones. I kept making Josh check the headphones because I didn’t think they were working. It was so loud in the airport and on the plane. He would tell me they were working, and I insisted they were not. It was too loud. They couldn’t be working. Then, adding insult to injury, I’d like to thank Southwest for the HORRIBLE blue LED lights on the plane. Are they trying to torture me? Blue light is the absolute worst. I sat curled up in my seat, rocking and clutching my head, covering my eyes.

We made it to our very cute AirBnb, and I was in bed by 7pm again. Even after another 12 hours of sleep, and two naps on Friday, I couldn’t handle being at the Race Expo that afternoon for packet pickup. We got our bibs and I told Josh I needed to leave; there were too many people talking and I was way overstimulated.

The Race

The theme of the race this year was water, which is ironic for a race in the desert. An “atmospheric river” camped out over the region, and they got a bunch of rain in the days leading up to the race. The night before the race, there was snow at the start, and they had a last-minute 2-hour weather delay because there were concerns about the shuttle busses making it up to the start line in Meyer, AZ.

Josh’s friend Chris was doing the 100k, and his wife Virginia was running the 60k the following morning. They were kind enough to offer us a ride to the start so I could avoid the overstimulation of the bus ride, with all the excited race morning chatter. Lucky for us, we weren’t staying far away, and since we weren’t taking the shuttle, we all went back to our Airbnb and stayed warm during the delay.

When we finally arrived at the start, and everyone was set to go, they announced another 30-minute delay. So we all stood around freezing before the race finally got underway at 9:30 am. We ran the initial lap around the muddy track at the high school before setting out into even more mud. I had hoped that my brain would settle into running and that it would make me feel better, as it so often has over the years. The first 8 miles were sloppy and slippery, with standing water and endless mud. All the extra balancing to try and avoid falling did not help my brain situation.

After the Antelope aid station, the trail drops down into the canyon, and the soil is much sandier. It was such a relief to finally be able to run on solid footing. I made it to the Bumble Bee aid station, my body feeling way better than it did last year. As I began the climb out, the nausea and pain started coming on, and I knew I was getting yet another migraine. I took my Ubrelvy, but after 30 minutes it was getting worse. Knowing it was going to make me dizzy, nauseous, and even more fatigued, I didn’t have much of a choice, and I took an Imitrex. I’m no stranger to migraines during a race, but when I had such frequent migraines, I had a lot more tolerance for Imitrex. Now, it hits me much harder. There is mixed research on how imitrex may cause a lower capacity for exercise, and it may have effects of the perception of exertion, or it may be true cardiovascular effect. Regardless of the cause, my pace dropped significantly, and I had to do a lot of walking. Over the next couple of hours, the pain and nausea were improving, and I thought I could pull through, but then I came to the first water crossing.

In a dry year, it isn’t much of a crossing. The first year, I crossed without even getting my feet wet. This year, after all the rain, there was plenty of water. As badly as my brain was functioning, I knew there was no way I could make it across alone, so I asked the man behind me if he could help. The water was deeper and faster than I expected. The visual effect of the moving water was highly disorienting and I was struggling to stay on my feet. Another man caught us and held on to my other side, and I was having a full-blown panic attack, crying and struggling to catch my breath by the far shore. I knew at that moment that I was done. There was no way I was going to subject myself to the next three crossings, at least two of which would be in the dark.

It was still a long way to go to get to the Deep Canyon aid station, and I was fighting back tears the entire way. Anne Marie was waiting for me there, and she took one look at me and knew I was done. She wrapped me in a hug and took me to sit down. It was really hard to drop this year. Last year I was happy to drop, training had been terrible, everything starting hurting at mile 10, and I didn’t want to be out there. This year, training had gone well and I had felt so strong at the San Tan Scramble 50k the month prior. I was mad at myself for working the extra shift, and even madder that 8 years later I am still dealing with this stupid brain injury. I kept thinking I should just sit and regroup and then head back out. And then I thought about the crossings, and being alone in the dark. With the 2:30 delay, that would be an extra 2:30 in the dark, without a pacer. Given my current cognitive abilities, I wasn’t so sure that was safe.

Based on his last text, Josh still had 15 miles before he reached the next crew point. I realized we could get to the Tablet Mesa aid station to crew and help him get to the finish. So that is what we did. Anne Marie drove me back to the AirBnB so I could wash off all the mud and put on some dry clothes. It was my first time being on the crew side of things for Josh, and I couldn’t help thinking that the “where is he” feeling I was having as I kept checking my watch was exactly how he must feel at every single race of mine. Then, there was a flurry of activity when he showed up – filling bottles, changing socks, and making sure he was set for the final push to the finish. With the time delay, it was getting late, so Anne Marie dropped me off at the AirBnB. Virginia came over and we drank tea and warmed up before heading to wait for our husbands at the finish.

All my doubts about dropping out vanished as I got to see him cross that finish line. I was so proud of him for getting it done. Later that night he gave me his race run down. He told me the other water crossings were even deeper than the first; one even hit him mid-thigh. He was thankful I didn’t try to continue. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I frustrated? Yes. Did I just register for Quad Rock 50 miler in May? Yes.

The Lesson

I didn’t finish this race, but I got in 31 training miles. My legs were solid, my nutrition plan was great and I was managing my 80 grams of carbs per hour. This week was a lesson in pacing myself. Just like in a race, if you go too hard, it will set you back. I didn’t use a PTO day before the race, but I had to use it this week so I could get out of the hole I dug. After three full days of rest, the double vision, light and sound sensitivity, fatigue, and facial droop are improving and I am getting closer to baseline. This blog has been written in 15 minute increments over those three days, setting my timer to take breaks.

Starting next week, I’m theoretically scheduled to try increasing work to 4 days a week, but it will only be two days in a row – Monday/Tuesday, off Wednesday, Thursday/Friday. I learned the hard way that three in a row is still too much. We will see if I can manage 4 days or not, if it isn’t sustainable, then I will drop back down the three days. I’m grateful that my clinic is supportive and understanding of my limitations.

We are 3 weeks out from our next event, and it will be a full summer of races all leading up to the big dance in July. I’ve promised Josh I won’t be picking up any extra shifts the week before any of them.

1. Moab Run the Rocks – March 8, 9, 10
2. Quad Rock 50 miler – May 11
3. Cuchara 60k – June 15
4. High Lonesome 100 – July 19