Zane Grey 50-Mile Endurance Run – AZ

April 26, 2008

A few months ago, at a time when I wasn’t using very good judgment, I again signed up to run the Zane Grey 50-miler.  How soon my memory faded of the pain and torture I have felt on that course in past years.   If successful, this would be my fourth straight finish on the course that claims to be America’s toughest 50-miler.   I looked at the entrants list and there were only a few others who had finished this course more than three times.  Obviously there are a lot of very smart people who don’t come back and do this course over and over again.

The race is held near Payson, Arizona.  The route progresses below the Mogollon Rim, not on top of it.   This means that it criss-crosses countless drainages, gullies, creeks, valleys, and washes.   Down and up, down and up.   Most of the climbs are short, but there are four pretty substantial climbs that can wear you out.  What makes it really tough, is that you just can’t run it fast, there are too many rocks.  The trail is in control.  It forces you to slow down.  If you don’t, you will pay the price, tripping, falling, scraping yourself up, or other nasty results.  Gee, I should know.  One year I fell within the first mile and bruised some ribs.

On Friday, I flew to Phoenix and was picked up by a new ultrarunner, David McOmber who was very kind to host me for the weekend.   We made our way up toward Payson and found the wonderful cabin that one of David’s co-workers was letting us use.  It was in a beautiful forest near the Washington Park trailhead.   

Me at the Fish Hatchery Trailhead

One difficulty this year is that the race website was lacking critical information.  I searched all over the site but couldn’t find the schedule for the pre-race meeting, dinner, and even race start time.   I also couldn’t find the directions to the race headquarters.  But we were able to manage and eventually found Camp Tontozona, the place were the ASU football team holds their camp.  It was a nice location.   While waiting around, we were able to meet other runners including Jeff Jones, who I had first met at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, Brian from Flagstaff, and many others.   We had a good dinner and nice pre-race meeting on the football field.  It was fun to see many of the local Utah crowd there.

David in front of the cabin

David and I returned to the cabin and settled down for the night.  I slept great, but we arose early at 2:15 a.m. to get ready.   By 3:30 we back at Camp Tontozona to catch a shuttle to the start.  It was chilly and I had no desire to wait at the start shivering for an hour, so I waited until the last shuttles left after 4:00.   I jumped in an SUV driven by one of the volunteers.  A woman runner in the car kept talking about how Lake City 50 is actually tougher than Zane Grey 50, even though she hadn’t run either.  I grinned to myself and said nothing.  I thought that she would be singing a different tune by the end of the day.  We almost didn’t make it to the start.  As we neared the Pine Trailhead, the driver fell asleep at the wheel and veered off the road.  He quickly woke up, over-corrected and it felt like we were close to rolling.  Thankfully he recovered and offered many apologies.  Boy, that really woke me up!

I shivered at the start and with two minutes to go, took off my jacket and put it in a drop bag for the finish area.   For drop bags, I only used ziplock bags with cans of Ensure.   In my 33-mile drop bag, I also put in a clean shirt and some sunscreen.

At 5:00 a.m., we were off in the dark, about 150 runners climbing up a single-track trail toward the Mogollon Rim.   I started running with the second pack of runners, pushing a good hard pace up the first major climb.  Two years ago I fell within the first couple miles.  I was careful to make sure that it didn’t happen again.   The dawn appeared and the forest came to life with light.   A huge elk bounded across the trail in front of me.   It was great to be out running!

I had not run a step in two weeks, since I ran a road marathon and strained a calf muscle. For the first two miles I felt great and held my position.  But little by little I started to feel pain in that calf.   Soon, I had no choice but to back off my pace.  I worried that I would have to hobble for more than 47 miles.   I tried to be careful and just ignored the pain.   

The first eight miles are the must runnable miles of the course.  It was great fun.  I only had one water bottle filled for this leg and that was just right.  The main problem with this portion of the course was that it was very poorly flagged.  I went off course about four times, but thankfully found out my error quickly.  Twice I stopped, waiting for other runners to give me comfort that I was going the right direction.  I probably wasted about 5 minutes during this leg with navigation problems.   But that was a lot better than so many others.  Some runners took detours that cost them nearly an hour.   As we descended into the valley where the Geronimo Aid Station, I noted that there was no flagging at all!  We had to rely on triangle markings on old trees.  But the problem is, that over the years, many of those markings had fallen off.   Several times I came to an intersection, had no clue which way to go, and just had to guess until I finally saw a tree marking.

I finally reach Geronimo (mile 8) at 1:38.  I was discouraged to see that I had run that leg slower than any of my past races at Zane Grey.   As I filled up my bottles, I muttered a comment to the volunteers about the lack of trail markings.  They didn’t understand the problem.  At times during the next leg, several fast moving runners past me.  I concluded that they must have been ahead of me but had gone off course.  The section between Geronimo and Washington Park was more challenging.   I enjoyed very much running hard and fast down the very technical rocking slopes.  A co-worker ran with me at lunch last month and after watching me blast down a hill marveled and called it: “controlled falling.”  That indeed is what it felt like, falling and doing all that I could to stay on my feet while going fast.

At 2:10, running buddy, Phil Lowry caught up to me and snapped a picture.   I tried to hang with him, but after a mile had to watch him go.  I was now starting to limp.  At about 3:00, Charlie Vincent and Eve Davies also caught up.   That was a little discouraging because they usually catch up much later in the races.   It was great to see them.  I picked up the pace and was able to hang with them for the next couple hours.   We established a pattern.   They would push ahead of me on the uphills.  My leg just wouldn’t let me push too hard.  But on the downhills, I would come flying by them.  Charlie has seen me do this many times and made some sort of comment about my downhills.

The huge challenge of the entire day was the deadfall.   For whatever reason, this year there were long sections that were not cleared of downed trees.   I estimate that we ended climbing over/under/around about 200 or more trees.  It added a huge amount of time and distance.  It became very frustrating because during the few sections that I could get a running rhythm going, I would screech to a halt, to painfully hop over a huge log.  After that, it was impossible to get the rhythm going again.

Another painful obstacle was the scratchy bushes that push against the trail.  It was worse this year than past years.  I soon noticed bloody scratches on my arms and legs.  At one point, I stumbled and fell against a very thorny bush.  My arm was full of thorns for the rest of the day.

I reached Washington Park (mile 17) at 3:58, seven minutes slower than my rookie year of ultrarunning.   I sat down and filled two bottles for the next hot section – diluted Ensure.  As I stood, I felt a terrible cramp in my left hamstring.  It was horrible.  I had never felt that before.  I could hardly walk!   A volunteer kindly helped me work the cramp out, but it really spooked me.

I continued on, trying to keep up with Eve and Charlie, but soon I knew they were gone for good.  The heat of the day increased, especially as we left the forest and traveled though the exposed burn area.  In 1990 a massive forest fire destroyed the historic Zane Grey cabin and also tragically took the lives of several fire fighters.  It left a massive area of devastation that was slowly growing back.   I kept trying and trying to push the pace harder, but each time my sore leg told me I shouldn’t.   I soon gave up “racing” and started to concentrate on ways to just finish.

I finally arrived at Hell’s Gate (mile 25) at 5:54, nearly 15 minutes slower than my rookie year.   This aid station is in a very remote location, exposed to the sun, but a very welcome sight in the heat.  And it was getting hot!   I drank as much as I could and filled up three water bottles for the next leg.   I played “leapfrog” with a set of runners for the next couple hours.  The calf calmed down and at times I was able to push the pace pretty well, especially on the downhill.  The heat was the greatest problem as the peak of the afternoon arrived, about 80 degrees.  As I crossed running creeks, I dipped my hat in the water to help cool off my head. 

I reached Fish Hatchery (mile 33) at about 8:40.  I didn’t dare sit down for fear of cramping.  Some of the 50K runners were finishing.  They did a great job starting an hour after me.   I looked around and saw several 50-milers sitting down debating if they were going to continue on.   I went to work, changed my shirt, filled all my bottles, put on more sunscreen, and tried to eat.   I felt very beat up, but had no thoughts of quitting.   I continued on.

The next leg is the toughest, a long 11-mile section that includes some massive climbs and many logs to climb over.  The trail got very lonely.  The 50K runners were done and many of the 50-milers had dropped out.   My motivation was now very low in the hot afternoon.  I was still battling dehydration.   Finally I decided that I just didn’t care about my finish time or finish place, I was only interested in finishing.  After I made that decision, I just did my best to enjoy the rest of the run.   After several miles, I was passed by many runners who were somehow finding extra gears.  Many recognized me and said very kind words of encouragement.  One section of this long leg goes in and out of drainages, over and over again.  Some of these drainages seem identical to others and makes you think that you are somehow going in circles.  

I started asking myself, “Why do I keep coming back to this race?”  I couldn’t find a good answer.  The course scenery isn’t that impressive.  I hate the heat.   I do love the technical trail for at least the first half, but then it gets old.  I could only conclude that for some insane reason, I enjoy torturing myself.   Perhaps this will be my last year.

I slowly arrived at Christopher Creek (mile 44) at 12:58.  Wow, that 11 miles took over four hours and I was an hour slower compared to my best time.  I quickly filled two bottles, didn’t care much about eating, and just got out of there.  There were six miles to go.  I joked to myself that it was only a 10K.  I should be able to run that it 45 minutes.  Yeah, right.  I set a goal to get it done within two hours.   As the sun descended, the temperature cooled and I started to feel fantastic again as my dehydration went away. This is pretty typical for me in hot races.  I gain a nice second wind at dusk.  I felt very little pain and could finally run fast again.  I never saw another runner during this last leg.  No one passed me.  The last three miles of the course are very runnable.   It was fun and my spirits finally rose again.  But with a couple miles to go, the sun was down and I had to navigate with a small headlamp.  It was impossible to run fast.  I became frustrated with the course markings.  There were none.   The diamond markings on the trees were few. There were no glow sticks.  I just had to hope that I was on the right trail.  Finally I could hear the car noise from the highway and I knew I was going the right way.  It just is a little unsettling to have night arrive and not have any comfort that you are on the right trail. The race directors need to make some significant course marking improvements next year.

Lights appeared, cheers were heard, and I finally finished in a slow 15:01.  My slowest 50-mile finish ever.  Oh well, I finished in one piece.   Some days are good, some are rough.  This day was very rough.  The trail really beat me up.   David picked me up at the finish.  He had a good 50K run and finished in a little over 9 hours.  He was in the large group that went off course for a couple miles.  We went back to race headquarters and had a very nice burger dinner.  Too bad I lost all my dinner after exiting the dining hall.  It was a rough day.   I think the Zane Grey 50 course won this year.