Ragnar Trail Relay AZ Race Report (2013)

Not expecting to grow flowers in the desert…

I haven't seen these in the store yet

8:45?  How was that only an 8:45?

These were my first thoughts as I had just finished my first mile of 33 in the 2013 AZ Ragnar Trail Relay.  It was about 3:30 in the afternoon and it was hot, very hot and dry.  Moments earlier, I was at the start line with what appeared to be a pretty fit and experienced group of (mostly young) trail runners.  I had no idea why they put the 4 of us in this group.  I was hoping to start with the teams in the Super Hero capes, floppy hats, and big wigs.  Who's idea was this anyway?

Home Sweet Home

The race was our first Ragnar Trail relay.  I had organized our team for this event made up of me and three Dave's.  A few of us had run several other Ragnar relay's but this was different for a couple reasons: (1)  it was entirely on trails that looped back to a starting point as opposed to the point-to-point following-in-a-van that is the make-up most regular Ragnars. (2) We decided, or I guess I decided, to run this race as an ultra-team instead of a regular team. That simply meant that instead of having eight runners split the 132 miles, we had only four.  What we did, was essentially double up all of our runs. So instead of just running one loop and handing off to our partner for example, we would finish the first loop and then run another one before we handed off our belt to our next runner.  This took the average distance from about 5.5 to around 11 miles each time out, but we would only have to go out 3 times.  Yes, I really talked 3 other people into this.

Theoretically, the thought of running 33 miles, with breaks, over 24 hours, didn't sound easy but also didn't seem overly intimidating.  I’m training for a marathon where I routinely do 20 mile long runs so what’s a couple of extra miles right?  What I forgot to factor in (again) is that trail running is nothing like road running especially when the terrain is not flat and there is a significant heat component.

Each loop left from the same start/finish line and went out into the desert. The first two loops, designated as the green loop and the yellow loop were each about 4.5 miles and were fairly technical with lots of switchbacks, ridges, and tricky terrain. The third loop was over 7.5 miles but had far less technical terrain. None of them were flat, at least by Illinois standards.

It's all smiles before the running starts.  

So there I was on the first green loop only about 2 miles into the run and I was already feeling pretty beat up. My 20 ounce water bottle which I figured would be more than enough for 4.5 mile run, was pretty much drained by mile three. I refilled the bottle at the start/finish line and headed out on the second loop. Somewhere on the second loop I realized that the heat was really starting to affect me. I figured it would be bad form and not very motivational for the team if I were to collapse on the first leg of a trip that I had planned so I slowed down, took it easy, and made sure I can make it to the line in one piece, after all it was going to be a long 24 hours.

It took me a good 30 to 40 minutes to recover from the run but once I sat in the shade for a while I did recover. I even felt good enough to open a celebratory beer with Dave #2 later that afternoon. Essentially when you finish your loop you have about six hours before you have to run again. The race was serving a nice pasta dinner which was timed really well for me and the second runner to enjoy a somewhat normal dinner that evening.  Pasta and beer; just another Friday night.

Sometime Around Midnight

The food and the rest reinvigorated me and I was really looking forward to my next loop (or actually two loops).  With the desert sun long since set, the temperatures dropping into the 50s, and the moon illuminating the course; I was ready.

I mentioned that the red loop was the least technical and that was my next loop to run. It made for an amazing midnight run. My pace felt swift (especially compared to earlier), the trail was clear, and my ability to pass some runners increased my confidence.  Most of the time all I heard was the sound of my breathing, and my footsteps on the stones.  Occasionally I would see a headlamp ahead indicating I was getting closer to another runner.  As I mentioned it was a full moon, and when I got to higher ground it looked like the entire desert was glowing in the dark. The sand and rocks seem to be illuminated and the cactus along the trail that was lighter in color almost seemed like they had small LED bulbs in them. Occasionally, I would pass someone, or someone would pass me; offer a greeting and then they would disappear into the desert.  It was very peaceful and was by far my favorite run.

The second loop was back on the green trail and while it's not overly technical there are a number of switchbacks and small fast rises and descents that require focus and concentration. And of the 4.6 miles I had really good concentration for the first 4.2. Unfortunately, I picked a bad moment to glance down at my watch, stepped wrong, and ended up face first on the desert floor.  It was stupid.  All I needed to do is just keep watching my steps for another 5 minutes and I would have been fine.  But now I was scraped up, bruised, and bleeding with thankfully only another half a mile to run.

I finished my run, handed off to our next runner and tried to wash off the scrapes and headed back to the tent. By now it was nearly 1 in the morning and most of the campsites were beginning to slow down. At this point all of my nutrition and hydration smarts disappeared. I should have eaten, and been continuously drinking water if nothing else but somehow between the fall, and the late hour, and the fact that we had brought all the wrong foods, I just lay in my tent and ate a granola bar.

There was something very peaceful but also a bit frustrating about the night. I listened as the other runners came in, nobody really seemed capable of sleeping, even as tired as we were.  I was hungry, but didn't have the energy or idea of where I could get more food.  The campsite behind us, obviously was way more prepared. Each time their runner would come back, someone would ask them: "Would you like a bean quesadilla? You want chicken or salmon with that?” I heard at one point.  “Chicken or salmon? “ I thought.  “WTH? I would give my left arm for a quesadilla."  But instead I just rolled over and ate another granola bar.

In never did fall asleep.  I started my third, and final run shortly after dawn. The sun was not yet high in the sky but it was already hot, and I was more dehydrated than I knew, and I was very low on energy. There was a lot more walking on these two loops. For the first time, I found myself becoming a bit bitter.  Of course it was my decision to run this as an ultra-team but I couldn't help but feel jealous and resentful when I would see someone finishing their loop and handing off to a fresh partner knowing that I had to head out for another 7 miles. Every time I was passed; I thought “must be nice to only be on mile 10 for the whole day”. I know, not exactly sporting of me, but I plead temporary insanity. But hey, I finished and I didn’t trip anyone. ;-)

Despair

So now it's nine o'clock in the morning on Saturday, I finished my 33 miles, I haven't peed in 12 hours, and all I have left to eat is granola bars (if I can find them). There was a food truck at the campsite but it immediately sold out of almost everything so I considered myself lucky to be able to order a breakfast burrito minus the burrito (which they had run out of).  I think it was a bunch of eggs and potatoes but it was the first real food I had eaten in over 12 hours.  At this point between the fatigue from running as well as not having slept the “despair filter” began to cover everything.  I just wanted to go home, take a shower,  eat an entire pizza by myself, then fall asleep with my head using the cardboard box as a pillow.

I was also beginning to get very worried that our team was not going to be able to finish. Even though I thought I was in good condition at the start; I was in bad shape by now and after Dave #1 ran he was so exhausted he literally could not stay awake.  (I knew he wasn't dead though because he snored.)   I felt bad for him since he had eaten nothing so I went to the (new) food truck to buy him hot dogs.  He fell asleep before I could bring them back to the tent. So I just left them in the tent figuring that he would eat them when he woke up (he did). (Sort of like leaving raw meat in the lion cage when the lion is asleep.)

By the time it was our 4^th runners (and third Dave) turn, we were way behind our expected pace and so we were back into the heat of the day. All I kept thinking about was that this was my stupid idea and it would be my responsibility to inform the next of kin that somebody had collapsed in the desert. I had a conversation with Dave #3 as he got ready to start his final two loops and I asked him three different times if he was sure he was okay to do this.  He said he was.  He also promised if he felt dizzy he would pull off the course immediately.  I told him to walk early and often and wished him well.

Post Race Recovery

So with some amazing efforts by all 3 Dave's who had to run their final runs in the heat of the day, we all survived and we were able to finish. Considering two other runners on our team have no ultra-experience and none of us were very acclimated to the desert conditions I was really happy with how things worked out.  And after showers, a massive pizza, and 11 hours of near coma-like sleep I really felt pretty good the next day. 

Yes, I ate almost this whole thing by myself after the race.  The middle is a stuffed calzone. Note the fork to show scale.  :-)

Epilogue

Would I do it again? Yeah I would, but I think I might have to find some new runners to fill out the team.  J   Maybe I could find 3 guys named Steve next time. What would I do differently?  Well, at least for my ability, if you want to have fun, run with a full team, not as an ultra-team.  An ultra-team is fun for the challenge, but I thought it was pretty tough 24 hours.  There were a lot of other teams where the beer/Gatorade ratio was way higher than our team.  Also, if I did run again as an ultra-team, it would really be helpful to have a non-runner in charge of the camp. It would have been great to have somebody who's not completely exhausted to: prepare food, tell you when to eat, what to eat, what to drink, and to generally help set up and take down the tent and campsite. The last thing I wanted to do in the heat of Saturday afternoon after running 33 miles and not sleeping was to pull down the entire tent, pack up the campsite, and haul all the equipment and gear to the car.

Our neighbors

It's taken me two races, but now I think I will finally remember how much more difficult trail running is than road racing. It's almost as if I should just throw away my watch as soon as I get on the trail. I think it would be far less frustrating and more enjoyable. That being said, when I just relaxed and enjoyed where I was running;  it’s really hard to compete with the setting and the experience.

The race was well-organized although the camps were too close together for my liking. If you're expecting a chance to be by yourself in the great outdoors, this is not that. But if you like being together with a lot of like-minded trail runners it really is a lot of fun. We had a great campsite, met some very nice people, and the campsite was a great part of the experience.

Final Thoughts

 I'm always trying to consider the line between taking appropriate risks and taking stupid chances.  Despite some dicey moments, I think we stayed on the right side of the line with this race. As usually occurs with these kinds of things; the memory gets better the further away from the event I get.

Sometimes it’s the things that don’t go 100% according to plan that are the most fulfilling and challenging.  There’s also something to be said about doing something where there’s a reasonable chance of failure.  I get a lot of energy from that; especially when it’s in the rear view mirror.