Mogollon Monster 100 - Did I make the cutoff?

***NOTE: I started writing this race report three days after MOG100, but my computer couldn't endure and decided to take a dive. I had to send it away for repairs and am just now getting to the point of finishing.***

It's now three days after I toed the line at the start of the Mogollon Monster 100 and still words fail to describe the experience. As I sit here staring at the screen of my laptop, wondering how to summarize the experience in a way that will portray even a small fragment of the feelings and emotions of that day, all that comes to my mind is a single word -- EPIC.

I arrived at my camping site near the Washington Park trailhead the Thursday prior to the race to allow some time for acclimation to the elevation change. My home in Phoenix is at 1300 ft. The Washington Park trailhead is a few thousand feet higher and would certainly be felt in my lungs and legs since my body isn't used to processing oxygen at that elevation. I have found that arriving a few days early and going on a hike or a couple of runs beforehand helps immensely. It worked well for me at the Speedgoat 50k, and I was certain it would help again at Mogollon Monster.

Friday night was spent in the company of my crew and pacers as well as with some good friends and fellow runners. We all sat in the camper and ate pasta, salad, bread and pie, afterwhich I promptly finished getting my pack ready for the next morning and headed to bed. I have to say here that I am truly thankful for my friends. They are all good natured, generous people who genuinely care about others, and it showed in spades all weekend.

Saturday morning, I awoke to a pretty bad case of nerves. The immensity of the task ahead had hit me full force and had left my stomach in knots. This is problematic, to say the least, before embarking on a race of this distance since pre-race calorie intake is essential. I knew I had to get in several hundered calories before the start and nothing sounded or looked good. I did manage to jam down about 600 calories though, but the truck ride down the bumpy forest service road wasn't helping the touch of nausea I was feeling because of the nerves. It took quite a bit of control to keep everything down.

Once at the start, the energy of the gathering crowd actually helped calm me down. It was great seeing many of my friends also at the race all exchanging smiles, hugs and best wishes. That moment seems so fleeting now. We were there for a good 30 minutes or more, but it seemed like only 5 or 10 before we lined up at the start. Right before the countdown, we all stood quietly as the national anthem was played over a loud speaker and held our hands over our heart. Moments later, the countdown was on.

From the start, the single track trail starts uphill and lets you know that this isn't going to be an easy race. The Pine Canyon trail undulates through some beautiful country that almost made me forget I was in Arizona and that only two days before, I was surrounded by cactus and rock. The ups and downs on this trail quickly give way to a steady uphill climb through some steep switchbacks as the approach to the first summit of the rim for the day comes into view. I kept a steady, easy pace through this section since I knew that after topping out at the Pine Canyon aid station, I would still have 98 miles to go and I didn't want to burn myself out.

I arrived at Pine Canyon a little faster than I expected, but it wasn't anything in comparison to how quickly the time passed on the way to the Dickenson Flat aid station. I had been dreading the run down the forest service road on the way to Dickenson Flat (truth be told, I really don't like running forest service roads -- they are a necessary evil sometimes) but the time flew by and it wasn't long before I could hear the cheering and the cowbell. Oh, how I love the cowbell!

My aid station strategy was to not rush through, which usually results in me forgetting something critical, but not to linger too long either. I needed to get in, go through a quick mental checklist and then be on my way. Food? Check. Water? Check. Sunscreen? Check. I have had some bad aid station stops in the past where some of the most basic needs were forgotten and I payed for it later in the race. This race would be different, I was determined, and to that end I had decided to split my crew to allow for a crew above the Rim and a crew below. Greg would be my crew above the Rim until I picked him up as a pacer at mile 72. He had crewed for me before and I knew what to expect with him. Kristin was my crew below the Rim and was a little nervous, I think, at this being her first time as crew.

Immediately after the Dickenson Flat aid station is a short climb to the edge of the rim and then a spectacular view of rim country comes into sight. The downhill run that follows was very technical and, in spots, just wasn't runnable -- but it was FUN! Halfway down the Turkey Springs trail turns into a very runnable, fast trail and running to Geronimo was really quite a thrill. It seemed like the time flew by and before I knew it, I was coming into the Geronimo aid still feeling great.

Kristin had everything ready for me to be in and out quickly, which resulted in a quick stop to refuel and refill my pack and bottle and I was on my way again. The next section follows the Highline Trail to Washington Park. I have to admit that I wasn't really excited about this section since the last time I ran this was during Zane Grey and struggled more than I should have to get to Washington Park. But this race was different; I took it easy on this section and just focused on what was ahead of me rather than glancing at my watch or thinking about how far I had yet to go. That strategy worked very well and I was able to get to Washington Park with no issues.

From Washington Park, the second climb up the Rim begins and I was ready for it. I enjoy climbing and was looking forward to getting back up in to the cooler air. The climb up the rim wasn't easy. The trail is littered with rock, in fact, I'm not sure there is any hard (or loose) pack dirt anywhere from the base of the climb to the top. It felt good to arrive at the top where I saw some of my ham radio buddies. I got a little extra water from them as I felt the dehydration starting to catch up to me. Then it was on to Pinchot Cabin.

The run to Pinchot Cabin was great ...except for the forest service road. The road just seems to always be going uphill and the hard pack road and rocks were felt through my shoes with every step. I was very relieved when I ran into Niki, a fellow Canadian, and a tough-as-nails runner. We were able to spend some time running together on the way to Houston Bros aid and then on the beautiful downhill single track run to Pinchot. That's where I also bumped into Tawnya and was able to run with her too. The world of ultra running is such an amazing place, and the people running these races are always interesting and inspiring. It's always refreshing to forget everything and listen to these people talk.

The stop at Pinchot Cabin was a little longer than I had hoped, due to some blistering and the time it took to tape my foot and take care of refueling. A couple of runners passed me and anyone who knows me knows that I put it on my todo list to catch them. That's not always a good thing, but this time it worked out well. I also made it my goal to get back to Washington Park, the 50 mile mark, before the sunset. Going back down to Washington Park on that rocky scree slope was tough. No matter how hard I wanted to move fast down that trail, it was virtually impossible. Every rock seemed loose and my legs were tired and I wasn't feeling in control. By the time I got to the bottom, I knew that I was going to have to turn it up a notch to get to the aid station before dark. The dark seemed to really come on fast and I ended up turning on my headlamp at about a mile away from the aid station. It became a safety issue -- I didn't want to sprain an ankle or fall just because I didn't want to mess with my light.

The stop at Washington Park was a little long, but it was a good feeling to get a change of clothes, some fuel and a pacer. Kristin and my pacers had everything together and ready for me to be in and out again, but I was ready to rest a little. Jeremy got me a blanket while I changed and I downed a hot chocolate quickly.  Knowing that I needed to get going before I got too comfortable, I decided to get moving. Scott and I left Washington Park with a fast hike and I knew it was going to be slow going on the way to Hell's Gate. Jeremy had told stories of people taking 3 hours to get to Hell's Gate, and I wasn't going to let that be me. It was tough working through that section. It was now dark, and between navigating, working through the brush and the grass and the covered rock, it was almost impossible to get a steady run going. We got to Hell's Gate and refueled for the climb up Myrtle.

A couple of runners had gotten to Hell's Gate and were out before me, so again I had a goal in mind -- catch them before the top of Myrtle. The section of trail out to Myrtle was tough in parts, and it was difficult to know where we were on the way to the turn to Myrtle. We eventually found it, but I couldn't  see the lights of the two who left in front of us and I started to think I had just gone too slow and they left me in the dust. Regardless, I knew the climb up Myrtle was going to be slow and tough but had to be done. Scott was a stellar pacer in this section and we kept the pace consistent and we eventually topped out to a string of lanterns leading back to the forest service road where Mike Pulley, another of the ham radio friends of mine was camped. We continued on to Buck Springs at a slow but steady pace, trying to recover from the climb up Myrtle. Eventually we saw the Buck Springs aid station and because of the cold temperature on the top of the rim, the fire was very inviting.

I had cold gear waiting for me at Buck Springs and I took the time to warm up, refuel and change into those warm clothes. The stop was, again, longer than I would like, but it was needed. As we left the aid station, my crew and second pacer, Greg, told us to make sure we didn't miss the right turn to get onto the trail to Dane Spring. We kept going along the road, from one trail marker to the next, and it wasn't long before I realized that we had gone too far. Since there were still markings along the road, we kept going. We eventually got to a gate where I knew that we had gone too far. At that point, we turned around and headed back to go ask for directions. On the way back, almost all the way to the Buck Springs aid station, we both found the marker we missed that would have directed us along the correct path. Now I was on fire. Someone had either mismarked the trail, or had tampered with the markings. I was very upset about missing the turn and adding an additional half hour or more to my time. I managed a quicker pace through this section and before I knew what happened, I had passed six runners/pacers and had somehow missed the fact that we passed Dane Spring. There was nothing to do but push forward, and again passed a few more runners.

I came into Pinchot Cabin to pick up my second pacer, Greg, and I was feeling good. So good, in fact that I made a careless decision to keep Ultragen in my bottle and Tailwind in my pack. No water. Greg and I started on our way to Houston Brothers aid station and for the first few miles, I was feeling good. Before long I started feeling that my energy level was just not where it needed to be. It eventually came to a head and I hit a wall. I don't remember much of this section beyond feeling miserable and forcing myself to move forward. There were some glow sticks hanging from the trees and I was convinced that we were close to the aid station, but the trail just kept going. After what seemed like an eternity, we came into the aid station where I slumped into a chair, put my arms across my knees and rested my head on my arms. I'm not sure how much time passed, but I did manage to get some food down and catch a five minute nap. I remember Trevor Davenport sitting across the fire from me one moment, and the next, he and his pacer were nowhere to be seen. At that point, Greg told me that I had been sleeping for five minutes. I was feeling good now and got up out of the chair feeling like I had been recharged. My goal now was to catch Trevor ...again.

The next few miles of the course were forest service road and I didn't mind it as much this time. I tried to keep a good pace going, but I was tired and was trying to manage a good pace without taking it too far. I didn't want to bonk again, and this was my first 100 so I didn't know how hard to push. Eventually, we made it back down to Washington Park and changed back into some shorts and a tshirt. It felt good to get the warm clothes off. I hadn't thought about what was ahead of me, but it was the section of the Highline trail that I was dreading earlier in the race. I should have been dreading it at the end. This section was tough. I wasn't moving fast and each turn seemed to give way to another canyon and another turn giving way to yet another canyon. I was so glad to see Geronimo that when I did, it almost brought tears to my eyes. I think I might have been a little tired and emotional too ...just a guess.

I knew I had to get in and out of Geronimo, but I just wasn't moving fast anymore. This was probably more tired than I had ever been. I sat for a while in the chair, ate some food, downed some fluid, and got a great pep talk from Kristin before grabbing my last pacer, Sarah, and heading out for the last big challenge of the race: climbing West Webber and then "running" down Donahue. It was the climb up West Webber that I had been dreading more than anything in the race. I had done the climb before on legs that were much more fresh than my legs were now, and it was tough! Here I was with almost 100 miles on my legs and I was expected to climb this trail? Yeah. Ok. Nothing more to do than to keep going. Sarah was excellent. She was the perfect pacer for this section and kept me moving all the way to the top. My strategy was simply to go one switchback to the next. That worked well, but was almost a bad choice because at the end of each switchback, I would want to rest even though I had a good consistent pace going.

I don't know what I was expecting when I got to the top, but the 100 mile aid station was about as bare bones as and aid station can get. I had everything that I needed and just kept moving. We proceeded to Donahue and holy cow was that hard! I had actually run this trail before, but my legs felt like jello and it was all I could do to push forward. Then there was the blister on my right big toe that I was sure had popped ...twice... and the pain I felt going downhill was intense. At this point, there's nothing to do but push through. It took a long time to get to the bottom of Donahue at a walking pace. I would like to say I was power hiking this section, but no, I was walking. I had told Sarah how much I was looking forward to getting to Highline Trail because "anything is better than Donahue", but when I got to Highline Trail, I just didn't have the energy to run very fast. I still managed to pass my last runner and his pacer before I hit the Highline Trailhead where I saw more of my ham radio friends manning the last aid station.


From here, it was a short run, a 5k to the finish. I tried running some of this section, but took numerous walk breaks. When I was within sight of the finish, a little girl was on the side of the road with a sign (I honestly don't remember what it said). She couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old and just said to me, don't you think it's time to start running? So I did. I was probably moving at a 12 min/mile pace, but I was moving. My kids met me along the way and ran with me as much as they could.

I have to say that crossing the finish line at MOG100 was an amazing experience. Jeremy Dougherty was there waiting for me and gave me a high-five before I crossed the line. My family was there and my friends, crew, and pacers were there to see me finish. It was a long road just getting to MOG100 and I was almost overwhelmed with emotion. I had just finished my first 100 mile race. This is something I had said I would never even consider doing, and I had just finished one of the hardest (I am told) 100 milers in the country. Amazing!

I have to give thanks where thanks are due. First, to my wife and family who put up with some crazy training, often missing weekends and evenings and struggling to maintain a balance. Second, I have to thank my good friend, Greg Grady, for getting me started on this crazy path of running. He was there to tell me that what I thought were limitations were actually imaginations -- and he was right. Lastly, I have to thank my many friends, Kristin, Deron, Scott, Sarah, Buzz, Danielle, Trevor, and many others who encouraged me through good and bad times, some very tough times, and kept me moving --- Because it's all about KEEPING MOVING.