Stephen Price, a good friend and runner who I've noted in a previous post was running the 25 miler in preparation for a big 50 miler later this year, the San Juan Solstice, not for the faint of heart, blizzards occur on a regular basis in June and the elevation gain is, shall we say "sick". It goes without saying I meet fun, new friends when I hang with Stephen and this weekend was no exception.
We all converged on the La Quinta Inn (Race HQ) on Friday, had a great dinner at a local and famous pizzeria called the Hot Tomato, hit the grocery store and headed to sleep or so we thought. I don't think any of us really slept all that much, I finally got out of bed around 3am and started the pre-race ritual after just a couple of hours.
The high temperature for the day was to be near 70 degrees, but at 6:30am it was around 40 degrees, great running weather. We had high cirrus clouds to shield the sun for the first 13 miles or so, which offered a little relief for what was to come later. However, around mile 15 I took a nasty spill (worse than any I've taken running), I got up and repeated for 15 minutes to myself, "Shake it off". I was pretty bloody overall, my left elbow, thigh and hip were gashed severely, but dirty and I couldn't tell if I needed stitches or not. I was in the middle of nowhere and about 3 miles past the last aid station, so I just kept running. The adrenaline from the fall, worked in my favor, I picked up the pace, which was good since I had a 10 minute transition at the turn around (the course is two loops, clockwise and then counterclockwise). I rolled in, swapped shoes, Stephen helped fill the bladder from my backpack, checked in with the race official, got the okay from the medic that I wasn't going to bleed to death on the course and headed out. I was now out for round two and the sun was blazing by this point.
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The many trails branching off Kokopelli are known for extreme single track and treacherous cliff drop-offs. It's in the desert, there is no shade, but it is majestic nonetheless, running along the mesas that feed down to the valley where the Colorado River roars. It's amazing, the first and last six miles provide vistas over almost the entire course, you can see the bikers and runners, but they are mere specs against the back drop.
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Stephen finished 12th overall and 13 minutes faster than his goal. In fact, Deb and Jaclyn, my other compadres for this race also crushed their goals, both placing in their age groups.
The second half of the race was nothing short of spiritual. I had reached that distance beyond which I had trained at; mileage and time that is still somewhat unfamiliar as I've only ever completed two other 50 milers. Of course, it wouldn't be a 50 mile race for me if I didn't puke, so around mile 35 a beetle flew into my throat and I proceeded to extricate it, but then followed with a few other additional expels I wasn't planning. It's not easy to lose your lunch while running at the same time while not getting it all over yourself, but I managed to stay clean.
I relished every moment, took in the views, enjoyed the very supportive and courteous mountain bikers I saw along the way. I enjoyed everything I could from the aid stations, including 3 slices of pizza at mile 37. As in most races of this distance, you are alone more than not, the solitude gives you time to think. I thought about Annie and all that we'd been through with my recovery, how wonderful it is to have her as my partner in life. How supportive she's been through this recovery and how if it weren't for her advice in January, I probably wouldn't have been prepared to undertake this adventure. And I ran on.
At the top of the second to last descent to the last aid station, I saw a familiar car, it was Deb's, so I knew she and Stephen would be waiting for me and I'd only have roughly 6 more miles to go. They were great, we had some laughs and I said, "hell, I can hang out for another 10 minutes"...they said go. I think I was delirious at that point, so I headed up the last climb and began rejoicing. Even if I walked the entire way, I'd still finish, which was really all I wanted. But I'd run to plan up to this point, felt really good, the best I'd felt at 44 miles ever and I just let it go. I got lost in myself, the terrain, the jubilation. I would never have to worry again whether or not I was going to be able to run ultras, I had arrived. At the top of the last climb I could see the finish line off in the distance and I took a sigh of relief. I descended to the fire road and noticed I was pushing up against my goal so I picked it up slightly, but only enough and then as I grew closer, tears swelled and I just started motoring faster and faster until I crossed. Stephen was there as I collapsed to the ground on my knees fighting back tears and I just asked for my beer, please.
I had run in 9:51, 9 minutes under my goal and placed 17th overall, the winner ran in 7:38 if you can believe that. There were 80 or so who started and only 38 of us who finished, it was a hot, hot day and I've never been so happy to finish in the middle of the pack.
Here's where the multiplicity of discovery comes in. I discovered, yes, I will be able to run Leadville this year after all and it wasn't a mistake to sign up. I discovered new and cool friends, always a bonus. Most interestingly of all though, I discovered that I share a passion for running with someone else in my family. Serendipity, fate, luck, God's will...whatever you want to call it, is an amazing thing, I am in awe how life works sometimes.
Stephen and I arrived at the awards ceremony, it was crowded, we sat in two different rows, I was sitting next to a young girl and her father. When they started announcing the 50 miler finishers and they got to "Andrew Wooten" the father sitting one seat over from me stood up and I had an "ah-ha" moment then they announced "John Duda" he quickly recognized my name as I had his and in equal astonishment whipped around to see who it was and we instantly made the connection, this all happened in a matter of seconds. Andrew is my mother's nephew and we are first cousins. We embraced, accepted our finisher plagues, but stood staring at each other in amazement. We'd not seen each other since we were young and only briefly talked on the phone in 2005 when our grandfather had passed. I got to meet his daughter "Annie" and we hung out after the ceremony for a bit, catching up on how the two of us ended up at the same place at the same time. There is more, we were all at the same pizzeria on Friday night, sitting one table away. Andrew passed me on the first loop, I asked him (not knowing who he was obviously), "Hey man, are you running the 25 or the 50?" He said the 50 and I thought, he's strong, I'll not be seeing him again. But as in all ultras there is a lot of back and forth. Particularly at the aid stations and I saw Andrew once more and we exchanged some encouraging words and ran on.
This weekend was truly something I'd not expected on so many levels. I had no idea I'd feel this good and finish strong, I didn't know I'd swallow a bug and lose my lunch and I certainly didn't expect to run into a family member that shares the same passion for running as I do. It was great capping this weekend off running into Andrew and meeting his daughter Annie as well.
My injuries will heal and we'll see what's next on the docket leading up to Leadville in August.
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