As soon as the race started, I felt myself settling in. I knew I had a very long day ahead of me, so I leaned into all the mental strategies I put in place before the race to combat my fears:
Fear: My longest long run of 15 miles (4+ hours) wasn’t long enough.
Strategy: Treat the race like a back-to-back training weekend. The course was perfectly set up for this with two loops. I told myself that the first loop, a 30K, was a Saturday training run. The second loop, a 20K, was Sunday training run. During my real training, I ran 15 miles on Saturday and 9 miles on Sunday. All I had to do was add 3 miles to each run while running it all in one day, and I could call myself a 50K finisher.
Fear: I would be last.
Strategy: Focus on myself. Get from one aid station to the next. Focus on what matters. Truthfully, I never fully let go of this fear. I went back and forth from not caring to caring too much. Logically, I know it doesn’t matter. I know that this fear is all ego-driven and rooted in a shame that should not exist. It’s directly connected to my fear of not being good enough and living in a culture where coming in last is perceived as an embarrassment. This fear is what kept me away from this goal for so long. My strategy was to be stronger than my fear.
Fear: I would mentally fall apart.
Strategy: Focus on what I can control. For me, my mental stability is entangled with how I’m feeling physically. When I feel like I’m falling apart, I fall apart. When I feel like I’m good, I’m good. I knew I was going to be fatigued, and I knew I would be pushing my body further than it had ever gone, but I didn’t want to get to the place where I was my own worst enemy. To feel my best, I had to give my body the fuel it needed. I focused on eating and drinking. I consumed 100 calories every 30 minutes. I wanted to finish off my flask of Skratch plus my flask of water by each aid station.
Instead of focusing on the finish line, I focused on aid stations. One aid station at a time. One win at a time.
Start Line to Dream Weaver Aid, Miles 0 – 2.6
These first few miles flew by. I had such a huge adrenaline rush from hitchhiking to the start line that I almost forgot I was there to run a 50K. I was surrounded by other runners. The temperatures were cold and welcoming. The fog was thick. The weather suggested snow was coming.
The first aid station was manned by Black Men Run Denver. They were everything I hoped to see at an aid station: enthusiastic, ready to help, and full of joy. The race felt real the moment I got there. I was running a 50K.
Dream Weaver to Tower Aid, Miles 2.6 – 7.3
I had studied the race map for months. This was going to be the biggest climb of the day. The race started at 6300 feet and topped out at 7100 feet. The tower aid station was as high as I would climb. I settled in and repeated those two words over and over as we climbed: settle in, settle in, settle in.
The higher we climbed, the colder it got. It felt like we were running through a cloud. The views of the gorge were nonexistent, but the snow beautifully covered the red rocks and cacti. It was a welcomed change from the muddy trails I was used to in Boulder.
With a mile to go until the next aid station, we approached a trailhead. There was an out-and-back section that we needed to complete, but then we had a choice to make. Did we continue up the trail or back down the way we came? We saw a handful of runners pass us going back down the trail, but when we got to the trailhead there was confusion among all the runners. Which way was the right way?
The out-and-back section gave me time to think. I had studied the map. While the signage was confusing, I knew I could figure it out. The out-and-back section also gave me the chance to see the guy who drove me to the start line. It was so nice to thank him in person without all my hysterics. When we returned to the trailhead, I felt confident we needed to continue heading up the trail. An aid station had to be close, and we didn’t see one on the climb up. The math and mileage didn’t add up to continue back the way we came. A half mile later we saw the next aid station.
There were quite a few runners with us at the aid station because of the confusion at the trailhead, Some had gone the wrong way and were back on track. Some were running the 30K or 20K race. Some were in the back of the 50K pack with us. The spirit of racing was very much alive at the aid station.
Tower to Canyon Rim Aid, Miles 7.3 – 11.7
Because the race also included a 30K and 20K race, and because the two courses shared some of the same trails, this part of the course felt a bit like playing Candy Land. Every intersection gave us a choice. 30K loop to the left, 20K loop to the right. While we were on our first loop, we had to pick the long way. It was energizing to know that when we came back through this section later in the day, we would get to take the shortcut.
While this section of the course brags about beautiful views, we didn’t catch a glimpse of them. The fog and mist were growing thicker. My ponytail was frozen. I had tunnel vision. Whether that was a result of the fog or my focus, I had one mission: get to the next aid station.
Canyon Rim to Start/Finish Aid, Miles 11.7 – 18.6
This section of the trail was beautiful. We were making our way back downhill, and the trail wandered along the side of the mountain. As we left the aid station, we had a glimpse of what was to come. The fog was lifting, and the views were coming into view. After mile 13, the first 50K runner passed us on his own second 20K loop. A few more front runners went by including the first and second female. It was amazing to feed off their energy. It felt good to cheer them on and to have them return the same encouragement.
As each leader in the race came and went, the fear that I was last tried to creep back in. There were a few spots along the trail where we could see behind us. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was last. I kept saying “I don’t know why I care.”
We would be repeating the entire section from the Canyon Rim aid station to the start/finish on our second loop. I was focused on memorizing this section to help me when I was tired later in the day. How big were the climbs? How far was the finish from the bridge? I wanted to equip myself with knowledge to fight against my fatigue.
As we made our way to the start/finish line for a practice finish, we saw the couple that drove us to the start line again. They honked and cheer from their car in the parking lot, and again I was filled with gratitude for making it to the race. My gratitude swelled when I saw my parents and Chet waiting for us. I was feeling so much better than expected. My confidence was growing.
I refilled my pack with fuel for the next loop while Chet filled my water bottles for me. We were in and out faster than I expected.
Start/Finish to Dream Weaver, Miles 18.6 – 20.9
I left my parents and Chet with high energy levels, but that quickly crashed when I realized I still had a 20K loop to go. It took a few minutes to get my head back in the game, but the men from Black Men Run Denver were exactly where I needed them. I heard their cheers before I saw them. As I approached their aid station, I was overwhelmed with gratitude – grateful to be there, grateful for this group of people who stayed to support me (one of the last runners), grateful to finally feel like I was going to finish a 50K. My eyes filled with tears when I saw them, and I kept saying “Thank you”. I wish I had hugged each one of them. They made me feel like I was winning the race.
Dream Weaver to Canyon Rim, Miles 20.9 – 24.1
Most of this section was different from the 30K loop. It was more technical than I expected. It was more climbing than I expected. My fatigue was kicking in. I was hungry and craving real food. I was starting to get a headache. Christian said he knew it was getting bad when I used his name in a sentence and said “Christian, I’m so tired.”
When I get tired on runs, my brain always does math. I calculate fractions and percentages. I create math problems based on miles. There were 7 aid stations on the course including the finish. I had already passed 5 of them. 5/7 of the aid stations were done. I was 71% done. There were 3 miles between these two aid stations. I had already run 1.5 miles since the last aid station. I was 50% of the way there. The entire race had 4200+ feet of climbing. I had climbed 3300 feet. I had 900 feet more to go. I had already climbed 80% of the course. This is what occupied my brain until I got to the aid station.
At the canyon aid station, we were greeted by another set of amazing volunteers. They celebrated our arrival. They filled my water bottles. They gave me the best PB&J I have ever had. They filled me back up with energy and optimism. I was going to finish this race.
Canyon Rim to Finish, Miles 24.1 – 31
Fueled by my PB&J and knowing my next stop was the finish line, my energy levels returned. My legs were fatigued and I was walking more than I was running, but my spirit was high. The math problems that occupied my brain were quickly replaced with two thoughts: Keep moving forward and I’m so proud of myself. Keep moving forward. I’m so proud of myself. Keep moving forward. I’m so proud of myself.
I was now at a place I had never been before. I was running further and longer than any run I’ve ever completed. With 3 miles to go, another runner approached us from behind. I instantly noticed it was Jamil Coury. Christian, oblivious that his favorite runner was behind him, asked if he wanted to pass us. Jamil said no. A few minutes later, I heard Christian say “oh shit.” I knew he finally realized who was running with us. They chatted, and I listened. It brought new energy to my run. I pushed myself to run more than walk.
Jamil asked if he could take some photos of us. He then asked if he could take a video of me and ask a few questions. My brain and my body welcomed the distraction. With less than a half mile to go, he told us he’d see us at the finish line.
We were in the final stretch. I could see my parents and Chet waving in the distance. I could see the finish line. The race announcer welcomed both me and Christian to our 50K finish, and the entire Aravaipa team cheered us in. As we crossed the finish line, I felt like I had won the race.
50K finisher.
Official finish time: 9:35:44.
2nd to last finisher.
Winner of my own race.
Kristy Maute 