Adventures in Utah

Sometimes our greatest triumphs are simply finishing hard things.

Overview: I had the great fortune to participate in the Moab 240 in October 2022. It was the culmination of months, years really, of preparation, planning, and effort. Did it go perfectly? No. The overall result was an unofficial finish. What does this mean? It means I decided to try to help some others and it ended up costing me an official finish due to the time it took. More on that later. Previously, I had attempted Bigfoot 200 in 2021 and was crushed by the 100+ degrees in the lava fields, aka the devastation zone. As I could not avenge my first DNF over 20+ years due to scheduling issues, I decided to enter Moab instead. I will be honest; I was not in a good way mentally or even as prepared as I normally am going into this. But I had committed to myself to do it and gave it a shot.

Considerations and Strategy: In looking at Moab and researching it, I realized it was going to be in an entirely different environment than I am used to. This was due to the high desert sun, altitude, and lack of any vegetation (with some exceptions in mountains). Although the climbing (29,000 feet) would not be overwhelming, it would largely come in the last 100 miles, and this made it a bit daunting. It would also involve over 10K feet of altitude, and this honestly was my biggest concern going into race. The long distance between aid stations (up to 26 miles) was something new to me as well, except for Bigfoot in 2021. This, plus the required gear we all had to carry, would make the load significantly heavier than for a normal ultra. I was also planning to do this solo, no pacers and no crew. This makes it much more complex planning for the event, and harder in many ways during execution. I really had no major strategy, other than take it easy as long as possible. I would grab sleep when I felt like I needed it…more on that later. The drop bag strategy was a tough one, and I made some errors. As usual, I had way more stuff sent out to the drop bag locations than I needed. The challenge was sequencing the gear when I thought I would need it…this hindered me a couple of times but was not a factor in performance.

Training: Based on these considerations, I decided to focus on three major things. 1) I would continue to work on overall fitness by doing 3-4 sessions a week or HITT and personal training focusing on core/other weaknesses. The personal training was something new and it made a huge difference in several areas (ankle/joint stability, and core strength). 2) I would do several long events in training, to include several 20–30-mile events (including parking garage stairs, bridges, etc. to replicate climbing). I also did what I would call some combinations…go to a workout, then do 10-15 miles immediately following. 3) I did several things that I consider environmental training. This included long runs in the heat, night training, the AT alone (day and night) on extended events. Finally, I would integrate some races into the schedule and do them closer to race day than I normally would (a lesson learned last year). This included Massanutten (a big failure and DNF at 55 miles…but I learned some things), Grindstone 100 three weeks out, and a relay event two weeks out (really tough after Grindstone the week prior) that included 43 miles of nine-minute pace over 24 hours. At Grindstone I also carried a heavier pack than normal. Throughout, I experimented with different packs, shoes, combinations, etc. The biggest thing I could not address was the altitude, but I took the “get in great shape” approach to deal with it – the altitude was not an issue in the end. Regardless, I was ready physically, mentally not so much (not running related) but figured I would deal with that whether I ran or not.

Gear Going In: The pack was going to be heavy. I think in the end it was around 20 lbs. This included 110 ounces of water (in five bottles/flasks) for the longer sections, required gear, food, and comfort stuff. Heavy for sure, not USMC heavy but definitely for an ultra. I used the Salomon 12L pack, it was ok, but I won’t use it again (too disorganized as a system, and tough when the weather was cold and needed more stuff). I ran in the Hoka Speedgoat V shoes, never changed them. Had a ton of various socks, cannot say any version worked better than others, at this distance your feet are going to be a mess…you must just deal with that. Carried trekking poles…definitely needed for this distance. The one area I did poorly on was the headgear, needed better sun protection as my face got destroyed by the sun. Will be working on that for next time. Overall, did pretty well though on gear choices. As I said, drop bag strategy was tough, nine total drop bags, and I need to work on the “what do you need when.” Some of this is due to the exceptionally long legs, thinking 16-18 miles on average. Back to the drawing board on this for future.

Getting to the Start: I started tapering about ten days out, essentially once Colonial Relays were done. I kept working out at gym until a week out. Both of these choices seemed about right. I flew out to Moab about five days early and did some running on the course, short ones, and thinking this helped on the acclimatization for heat/sun and altitude. Was able to explore the unique town of Moab, the scenery is world class, just so different than what we are used to on east coast. Start was early Friday morning and check in/bag drop was the day prior. I always start getting nervous once check-in is done. No different this year. I hate the start of these events. Most who know me in the running world, know I always say I hate the races until I get “hit in the face.” You know it is coming, so when it does it is a relief to know you dealt with it and kept going. The problem with 200’s is that the hits to the face keep coming! What does one feel like prior to one of these? Fear, excitement, apprehension, doubt, expectation of pain, positive…I would say all the above. Being a solo runner, there was not hanging with the crew, and you are alone with your thoughts. We did the pledge of allegiance (a cool Destination Trails tradition). Next up was the final minute countdown and we were off to first aid nine+ miles away.

Start (0 miles) to Hidden Valley: 9.3 miles/1234 feet up and 524 down to next. This section was a bit weird as it was all road for first five miles or so. It allowed a good opportunity to spread out, but still was a long line of folks once we hit the trails. This trail was great, some ups and downs, but just a long line of folks, always irritating to me. No worries, it would not last long. Hit the aid station way faster than I expected and felt great. Course it was largely in the dark and still cool out - only 230+ to go!

Hidden Valley (9.3 miles) to Amasa Back: 8.5 miles/1600 up, 2100 down to next. This started with a cool climb up to a hidden valley, needed hands to climb up, but the views were great. A lot of slick rock, just really unique. Lots of walking with plenty of easy running as well. Coming off the plateau, there is a great view of the Colorado River. The whole time I was thinking, wow, I get to see this. Following a short stretch on the road, did a quick aid station stop, less than five minutes and headed out again.

Amasa Back (17.8 miles) to Base Camp: 15 miles/2155 up/2850 down to next. This started out great. Had some great conversations with some folks on leadership of all things. Sadly, the fun ended as the sun decided to let me know this was his/her race and there would be much suffering. Rounding the trail, the sun was out, and it was exceptionally warm. Would be the rest of the day. Literally it went from fun to painful in a very short amount of time. First hit to the face for sure. Little did I know if was not going to get better! There was an amazing down climb on Jackson’s Ladder, really cool. Finally made the aid station and took some more time to cool down, hydrate, but it was tough to eat. Tried hard to do so, but really just checked the box and got a few calories in. Met a nice young Marine (was a Corporal) who did this stuff for fun, really enjoyed talking to him here and later in race. I finally got my act together and set off for the section I was dreading this early in the race.

Base Camp (32.8 miles) to Oasis: 26.5 miles/2025 up/1720 down to next. A marathon. In the heat of the day. Daunting for sure. At least there was a water station 5 miles in…that did help. Carrying enough water was a challenge here. Most of the route was exposed to sun and it is hard to explain how hot that is at altitude/and the intensity of it. I found myself getting mad…at the sun. I know dumb. No shade, no breezes. Was flat initially but wound its way up into some cool canyons. I did several stops (short breaks) as my stomach was not in a good way. Way too early. This section went on, well, forever. Finally, relief came as night came, as did the loneliness as often there was nobody else to see. It wound in and out of mountains (small ones) and finally ended. I mean finally. This became a trend throughout, sections that seemed endless. At least we were almost 60 miles done. 180 to go. Your mind has to be able to compartmentalize and not think like that…I did pretty well, focusing on what is next and not on “OMG 180 miles.”

Oasis (59.3 miles) to Indian Creek: 12 miles/1727 up/1305 down to next. Ok, 12 miles my ass. My watch had this section at over 15 miles. Most others did as well. It was a fairly easy section but again, just went on a long time. There was a water stop, not really needed at night, but a good way to break it up. I did take a wrong turn, only cost me 10 min or so. Got into aid station and it was hugely crowded with crews. I did try to sleep but it was way too loud and it was early in race, was not too horribly tired yet. In retrospect I should have, but the heat the day prior made me want to get started early. Still suffering from not eating much at this point.

Indian Creek (71.3 miles) to The Island: 15.8 miles/940 up/320 down to next. This was a really flat section and was moving out the first seven miles or so. Well, then the sun came out and it heated up quickly. Lots of meandering through dry stream beds on this section. Really as beaten down when I rolled into the aid station. Really was dreading what was coming next…with good reason as it turns out. Drop bag error…I had my puffy jacket in the drop bag here. Really? I could not bring myself to carry it on what would be one of the hottest days of the event, something I would regret in the mountains. Mentally though, it was one of those things that hurt as I was wondering what else I had made a mistake on. Also had feet worked on a bit, those tape jobs really help.

The Island (87.1 miles) to Bridger Jack: 15.5 miles/2239 up/715 down to next. As I said, I was dreading this section. It was very hot, and this section was known as one of the more exposed. After delaying long enough, I finally set out. This was a long climb but never really steep. A trend for most of the race as the climbs were steady and long, but not straight up. This is on a ridge that goes steadily up and winds in and out along the contours of major draws leading down to the valley. Amazing views, a bit less pleasurable because of the sun. I did find a great spot or two for a nap. At one point I slept for 15 min and woke to a cloud and some light rain? Did I dream that? Sadly, it was short lived. As I said earlier, this section seemed endless. Rolled into next aid station as sun was dropping along with the temperatures. Amazing out in desert (as most Marines know) how fast it goes from hot to freezing. In fact, this whole race defined what the sun is to me…if you could find shade it was easily 15-20 degrees cooler. This aid station was crowded and finally was hungry. Spent about 30 min sitting by fire, trying to get motivated for what was known as one of the “cruxes” of the race. As always, the aid station folks were great. Finally, was able to get moving. Also realized I had done over 100 miles and did so faster than I had done Grindstone a few weeks earlier, that was motivating a bit and helped.

Bridger Jack (102.6 miles) to Shay Mountain: 19 miles/4228 up/2340 down to next. I won’t lie; I was nervous about this section. Lots of climbing and a bit notorious for route finding (with good reason I learned). This section is actually wooded and mountainous. Had been seeing mountains for two days and finally in them. I was passing two guys going down the road and made a momentous decision. I rarely decide to hook up with others, but I was worried enough on route finding to do so. I asked them if I could hang with them on this section and they nicely let me do so. Glad I did this as the section was a beast. At one point, we had several groups looking for next marker. FYI there are no “confidence” markers on this course, often very long distances between markers. This section winded through a deep valley along streams for a bit before heading up into mountains. The climb was different than most others and very steep. It seemed to on forever. Every time we thought we had made the top, nope, more mountains behind it. I did lead a lot on this section and felt good overall. No altitude issues and it went up to almost 9K feet. FINALLY, we topped out and felt like we were almost there. Nope. This road went up and down forever until the aid station. We were really slow on this last 4 miles or so. Mentally I think it was defeating to make that climb and have so far to go. We finally made Shay Mountain and I decided the biggest thing I needed was sleep. Slept for like an hour and a half and then got ready to go. Here I made a few decisions that would impact my next few days. The guys I had run with the night before (a great team that night) was heading out and decided to join in with them again.

Shay Mountain (121.6 miles) to Dry Valley: 18.5 miles/618 up/2866 down to next. In retrospect, this should have been an easy section. It is largely downhill and on fairly easy trails. Lots of road initially. We started out well, but there were some struggles by the group as the day got hotter. This slowed us down more than it should have. People hit lows at different times, and group dynamics are way more complex that being alone. We headed into next aid station and took some time to get everyone fixed up. Thought we would have been to Dry Valley earlier, but that is how it goes sometimes. Had some great food here, who knew mashed potatoes could be so good? It was getting dark as we headed out and significantly cooler. Only 100 miles to go! Strangely, this did not sound too bad at the time.

Dry Valley (140.1 miles) to The Needles: 14.6 miles/559 up/884 down to next. On paper, this section should have been easy. It was cool, flat, and road. I was committed to staying with group and it cost a lot of time on this as I can move out in conditions like this. My feet were largely good, felt good, etc. Our team was very slow. I can walk 15 min miles or at least 17 in these conditions for days. Our team was doing like 20+ min per mile, largely due to some sore feet. This took way too long. Again, it seemed as if it went on forever, and at one point three groups were looking for aid station and thinking it would be right over next hill. It wasn’t. Finally, we found the aid station and took some time to rest, maybe an hour or so here in a chair, so no real sleep.

The Needles (154.7 miles) to Road 46: 12.6 miles/839 up/971 down to next. Again, this should have been a fairly easy section. We struggled in the same way. We were all exhausted at this point from lack of sleep. Took a few naps and even rolled into my emergency blanket for a bit, and it was nice and warm! Again, the trends continued…too slow, went on forever, and the lack of sleep would take its toll the rest of the way. We made Road 46 just after first light and decided to nap for a couple of hours. A good decision but meant we had the next section in heat of the day…and that would be a huge challenge.

Road 46 (167.3 miles) to Pole Canyon: 17.6 miles/3446 up/679 down to next. This was known as a tough section and doing it in the heat of the day was really hard. The sun was again brutal and we had to cross a wide open area to start climbing back up into mountains. Again, no where to hide or find shade, though we did take a few halts when we could find some scrub trees and a tiny bit of shade. This was another gradual climb up that went on a long time. It felt like we hit the top…and again, nope. It wound around the contours of mountain for a long while until we ran into the aid station. We were again very slow on the largely flat parts crossing the valley to the climb, this hurt us quite a bit and for the first time I started worrying about cut-offs.

Pole Canyon (184.9 miles) to Geyser Pass: 15.1 miles/4916 up/3845 down to next. On paper, this is the toughest section. For me it was the worst (except last 15 miles of race). We spent a bit of time in the aid station getting feet taped, eating, and prepping mentally for this section. It proved to be steep in many locations and it was very dark. I picked this section to have my first real physical and mental crisis. After sticking with the group, they took off when I struggled on this…understandable but a mental beat down after I gave up many hours in past few sections to stay part of the team. I was having major nausea issues and would collapse after only a few feet of climbing. Although I had a lot of time, I resigned myself to not finishing. I simply could not go on. It was pitch black and I was as alone as I had ever been on any event (except maybe on the slopes of Mount St. Helens cramping a year prior). Could not believe I was going to DNF at like mile 190. Fortunately, a couple came by, and they gave me some nausea medicine and it was a game changer. I had started believing it was the altitude, but it was something to do with stomach. Once I got rolling, I started to say to myself, just make this aid station on time. I don’t need to rest, just get there. Emotionally I as hurting, as I was wondering how I got to this point when I had overcome so many obstacles the past several days. Regardless, I made it with a few hours to share. In retrospect, this section should not have been that bad…the final climb was steep, but on the road, and doable. I took an hour, even though I could not afford it, and got ready to go. Amazingly, one of the guys I had run with was there, he had been separated too and was only a few minutes ahead of me. So, I had someone to team up with over the next long section. Was really oblivious to the fact that I made 200 miles, only looking back can I see that!

Geyser Pass (200 miles) to Porcupine Rim: 20 miles/1593 up/3991 down. Looking back, this section should have been fast. It wasn’t. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up and my partners feet were really sore. There was a beautiful first part in the woods, great birch trees with colorful leaves, but eventually we came out onto road. We would be on this for like 15 miles and it beat our feet to death. It got hot again, and we really struggled on this. I have to say I was starting break from reality. I started to forget what event (Moab) I was on and felt like this was a “land navigation problem” from time in USMC. Sleep deprivation can drastically change your view of reality. This was long, hot, and seemingly would never end. We finally got there, and it was the hottest part of day. We ate a bit, hydrated and tried to get excited for the last 18 miles.

Porcupine Rim to Finish: 18.1 miles/951 up/4881 down to next. This got really weird. More things happened in this section. Again, my reality was warped a bit, and it seemed like a different event. It impacted my decision making and was the difference between and official vs. unofficial finish. I felt I was on a different event as I said, one that was different in nature than an individual effort. I had plenty of time. Many things went awry. It was exceptionally hot, and my face and lips were blistered and very uncomfortable. Fortunately, we only had a few hours of this. I took my partners watch to charge…a seemingly small issue. However, I stopped a moment to fix something and took off to follow him down trail. Lots of side trails etc., and a bit confusing. I lost him. I had his watch and lost him. He told me later he got lost and finally just decided to go on. In my mind I had to find him, as I had his watch, his navigation tool. I felt terrible and spent an hour looking for him before deciding to go on. As part of this, I found another guy who was struggling and told him to follow me we would get to finish. We were moving fast, it was dark, and navigation was tough. Was emotionally crushed to think I had ruined another runner’s race by losing him. We were doing great and got near where it goes down an exposed trail way above the valley when we saw some lights off course. We figured it was two of the guys who were just ahead and decided to grab them and get them on course. Turned out it was my partner as well! This is where things went sideways…all three of the others were struggling with feet (and one injured hip). I was able to run at this point. For some reason, I felt honor bound to get us to finish…I didn’t. I would run ahead and have to come back and get group and push them to next rest point. I think I did five extra miles. In my mind, I had to get them there. I don’t know why. After spending so long with partner, I couldn’t leave him behind even though I felt good. My fatigue was gone, for some reason I was thinking like a Marine and “never wanted to leave someone behind.” This is really dumb by the way, on an ultra. We went along like this for hours…they were very slow, and eventually got them to a point we could see the exit point. Got them there and was like four miles from finish but over on time. Again, why I did this I have no idea. I had plenty of time to make it alone. Two of the group got in vehicles and were done. My partner wanted to finish as well, and to be honest he was a positive influence here, thankful for him. We did last four miles together. Having done my perceived duty, my mind broke. Literally, I hallucinated whole villages where there was nothing but rocks. Every piece of vegetation turned into a cartoon character. I was losing my mind due to lack of sleep. Finally, we hit finish. Hats off to Candice and the race team, they welcomed us, fed us, and listened to our version of the final 18 miles. Sucked to be unofficial. But we finished it. To this day, I know my decision making was poor…but the intangible of finishing with my teammate made it worth it. Plus, I made it, 240 miles.

Aftermath and Lessons: After finding my either stolen or towed car the next day (bless the desk clerk at hotel that pulled my credit card info from previous reservation as I had lost everything I owned until it showed up the next day…a long story) …I slept until breakfast and started the road to recovery. Spent a day in Moab and finally drove two hours to airport and home. To this day, I have not fully processed the event and all that transpired, writing this helped. My biggest lessons are the body needs sleep, or it will impact decision making. I had maybe 3-3.5 hours over 4 plus days. Woefully inadequate, especially the final 30 miles or so. Decisions matter. You must be ruthless on these events sometimes. I wasn’t, I partly feel like I reverted back to USMC leader and gave up my own faster finish to help others, in my own mind perhaps. There was plenty of organization set up to take care of those who were done…why I felt the compulsion to get them to the finish initially, and off the mountain, I don’t know. In fairness, this was a highly exposed area (cliff and narrow trail) and in my mind I thought they were in danger…they were not, but well the mind does what it does. I addressed the other issues in this rambling account. I am not too worried about an official vs. unofficial designation…I did 240 (really 245 due to my scrambling back and forth) miles…I overcame some major obstacles, the heat, sickness, emotional distress, feet, etc. I learned a lot about myself, I have always had the physical endurance but there was so much emphasis on the mental aspect that I grew a lot. Up next, will try Bigfoot 200 next year and hopefully get redemption there.