I always thought 200+ milers were crazy, and I never had any interest in doing them. Then Jamil from Aravaipa Running introduced the world to his plan for the Cocodona 250, and I knew I was in trouble. I had moved to Arizona in 2017, and it immediately felt like home. Cocodona provided the opportunity to explore some of the most amazing places in Arizona by foot, and the adventure of it drew me in. I wasn’t quite ready for the 2021 edition of it, but I captained the Lane Mountain aid station. Somehow witnessing the carnage there made me even more interested, I think it fascinated me that people could look so wrecked at mile 33 and go on to finish another 217 miles.
A fall on the trail in May of 2021 resulted in a torn meniscus and knee surgery, which meant I wasn’t ready for the 2022 edition either. I decided that if I didn’t get into the Hardrock 100, 2023 would be the year of Cocodona. I said it over and over, to myself and others. Then lottery day came and I, unsurprisingly, didn’t get picked for Hardrock.
Shit, I guess I’m doing Cocodona.
Going into the race I took the mindset of it being a big adventure, a chance to explore the unknown both with new trails and with what my body and mind might do when I over-doubled my distance PR. I knew I did well with 20, 30 or 90 minute sleep sessions, and decided to start there and make decisions about sleeping longer as the race unfolded. I also vowed to stay on top of nutrition and hydration, which becomes even more important in a race like this. I had a crew chief, Lauren, who would be with me for the entire week, and pacers that would come and go. My pacing plan started to come undone even before the race started, but Lauren did a great job tapping into the community and finding people to fill in the gaps as the race was underway.
On May 1st I woke at 3:30am at Lauren’s house to put together our last few items and head to the start line of the Cocodona 250 in Black Canyon City, AZ. To be honest I still had no idea what to expect, but I was ready for the start so that I could begin the process. We drove up the I-17, and the first wave of nervousness didn’t hit until we crested a hill on the highway and the start line lights became visible.
Start
We checked in and got my spot tracker, and I greeted fellow runners, crew and Aravaipa staff who I knew. Finally, the time arrived and we lined up and started off along the Black Canyon trail. I had run this section before in training, so I knew to take my time and enjoy these first easy miles before things really got interesting. The runners were fairly bunched up and I lead a group along, listening to their stories. We had a river crossing at mile 2, giving everyone wet that trail grit stuck to as we went.
Cottonwood Creek 8.5
At Cottonwood Creek I filled all four of my required liters, refueled, and then started on what is arguably the most difficult section of the course. It is hard to describe exactly what makes the section so difficult, and maybe that’s because it’s a bunch of little things stacked together. It’s steep and the footing is terrible, so much so that even the downhills are difficult. I knew the trick was to stay positive and not worry about time, to keep my effort within a reasonable range. Relentless forward progress.
Mile 11 was a water stop, which also had frozen grapes and popsicles. I was able to share some good company going up the mountain, talking about life and running and motherhood. One woman, Elle, had her 14 month old son meeting her at some of the aid stations during the race. I also passed some runners already struggling on the course, running out of water, being battered by the heat. I shared some water with one of them. Mile 25 provided another water stop. I was being smart about my effort and hydration and feeling good at this point. The trail soon turned even gnarlier as we started the final section to Lane Mountain Aid. This is a section I struggle navigating during the training run, but for race day the course marking was on point. At certain vantage points I could look back and see Lake Pleasant far below us.
Lane Mountain 33 and Crown King 37
Coming up on the aid station I was excited to see some volunteers I recognized. I also realized I had fairly bad chafing in my nether regions. As I applied Squirrels Nut Butter in the middle of the aid station I looked at the videographer and joked “You’re getting this on camera right?”
The next four miles were smooth and largely downhill into Crown King. The aid station is hosted at the Crown King Saloon, and I hit my first goal of the race by making it there in good spirits. I remember seeing AJW and greeting him on the way to my crew. Overall I felt good, which had been the plan for the first section. My shoes were gritty and I had some small blisters started so we switched shoes and applied Happy Toes. I ate what I could, repacked my pack, and started out again, this time headed up to Towers Mountain. On the way out of town I got to spend some time with Sally McRae, on whom I have an incredible girl crush. We talked about the race and our kids. I pulled away from her a bit on the up, and then we crested and she quickly left me on the downhill. I was feeling a bit of a low, although a wilderness pit stop helped a little. We got into Arrastra Creek, which I have very vague memories of, and then started the climb up Mt Union to Kamp Kipa.
At this point it was full night, and I was starting to feel the effects of a less than stellar night of pre-race sleep, an early wake-up and lots of hard miles. I was literally falling asleep while running, with vivid dreams popping into the lapses in consciousness. I laid down on the trail for a 5 minute nap, and when I got up started down the trail again. Very quickly I met a guy coming towards me and told him he was going the wrong way. ”Again?!? Man, I just got lost and added two miles a little bit ago.” he said. Then my brain slowly pulled all the pieces together and I said “Oh, wait, I think I’m going the wrong direction.” I was thankful I hadn’t gone too far. As we climbed higher up the mountain the wind was really strong and the temps were cold for a girl from the Valley. There was also a section of trail that was super narrow, rutted and filled with rocks that made things slow going.
Kamp Kipa
I got to Kamp Kipa and was told there was a cabin where I could sleep. I texted my crew and attempted a nap, but instead lay shivering like crazy for 30 minutes, listening to the sounds around me, including a conversation between a runner and the medics, and eventually just got up to leave. I grabbed some coffee and food, looking back I wish I had just done this originally and skipped trying to sleep. I was concerned about the cold as I had forgotten to bring a jacket and gloves in my pack, but I ended up putting on my emergency blanket like a toga, picking up a trail buddy who was also about to leave, and heading on towards Friendly Pines and my crew.
Friendly Pines 71.2
I rolled into friendly pines in the early morning hours, and heard about a javelina raid on the crews’ food that had happened. This was the first official sleep station, and I decided to try for a 90 minute nap. However, the bunk room was next to the kitchen where all the action was happening, and people kept coming in to use the extra bathroom, so I slept very little. Looking back, I should have used the sleep setup my crew chief had in the 4Runner, which is what I did for the most part going forward. I ate breakfast, brushed my teeth and headed out with my first pacer, Paul, who is also one of my coaching clients. It was fairly smooth trails leading into Prescott and Whiskey Row, and I decided to leave my poles with my crew for a while.
Whiskey Row 78.3
At Whiskey Row I was feeling good in the new day. I re-upped on my nutrition. We also noticed that my shoes were getting fairly snug and switched to half size up, which I think was one of the smartest decisions of my race. We continued on, and there was quite a few road miles leading through Prescott. One of the funny things about this was that I had hit a period where I suddenly had to pee every few minutes. Paul and I strategized and I would kneel as though I was tying my shoe, shimmy my shorts to the side and pee. Paul would stand pretending to check his phone and blocking the view from the road. We repeated this routine multiple times. Finally, the roads spit us out onto a trail, and it was at this point where we were passed by Mike McKnight. For those of you who hadn’t followed the race, McKnight was as far back as 62nd in the first day or so of the race, and then recovered from his issues and ended up charging hard to win the race.
Soon this trail switched to the granite dells around Lake Watson. The rock formations were gorgeous, but hard on quads with the steep ups and down and the unforgiving surface. Near Watson Lake park, which is the start/finish of Aravaipa’s Whiskey Basin run, we encountered an older couple who had come out to support the runners. The wife had a triangle she was ringing as the husband handed out Twizzlers. It was perhaps my favorite moment of the race. The dells finally gave way to another flat section of trail taking us into Iron King.
Iron King 92.2
The Iron King aid station seemed more like a stop along a road at this point in the race. I did crawl into the back of the 4Runner for a 20 minute nap. We checked my feet, switched out my shoes, and I used my muscle scraper to work on my quads a bit before moving on. Much of this part of the course was fairly tame and forgettable, and it was good to have Paul there with me to provide conversation and keep me moving towards my goal and in a positive mindset.
Satisfy 97.5
Satisfy running hosted the aid station at Fain ranch, and I was not necessarily a fan. There was a carpet and white couches – WHITE COUCHES. There was catered food and massage stations. Perhaps it’s something that some people really appreciated, but during these events I tend to lock into a mindset focused on the task at hand and the wilderness around me. I grabbed my poles and quickly moved on.
Crossing Fain Ranch was perhaps my least favorite section of the course. It was flat and should have been runnable, but it went straight across a field with hoof ruts and grass tufts that made footing difficult. It also followed along Route 89 the entire time. I also noticed that something in the grass created a rash on the backs of my calves, something that would feature later in the race. It was another example of how inexplicably slow this course was. Paul and I made the best of it, and I joked with him that if he ever decided to run Cocodona I would pace him on any section he liked – except this one. There were also wooden ladders over sections of fencing that I did surprisingly well at. Mingus mountain didn’t seem to get any closer, until finally it did. We exited the ranch land, ran along a road for a bit and headed back onto the trail and up the climb.
At this point I had had almost no sleep, as the time I spent at Kamp Kipa and Friendly Pines had not resulted in any productive sleep. I like uphills and can easily motivate myself to grind up them. For this climb my motivation was that I just wanted to be at the top and try to lay down again. I passed some runners. I dropped Paul. I had my closest hallucinatory experience of the run as I neared the top and thought I saw aid stations nestled in the trees several times before I finally did get to the aid station. I looped around the camp, found my crew in the main area, and went to lay down.
Mingus 110
Compared to the previous sleep stations Mingus was amazing. Each cabin had a carpeted common area with couch and TV, and then several bunk rooms. I set my alarm for 4 hours but woke up after 3. During that time my next pacer Sally showed up, the runner she had planned to pace had dropped and my crew chief had connected with her on social media. She drove from LA to meet a complete stranger in a mountain camp in the middle of the night and pace her towards a crazy goal – ultra-running is amazing. Paul shuttled cars after I had profusely thanked him for keeping me positive and moving all those miles, allowing me to be strong for the final push up Mingus. Upon waking I realized there was a shower in the cabin and took a few extra minutes to rinse off the grimy layers of dirt and sunscreen. Then I ate, gathered my things, and Sally and I started down the other side of Mingus Mountain towards Jerome.
Again, the smooth downwards slope on the course profile belies the narrow path littered with loose baby head rocks that are not conducive to fast running, these eventually gave way to some runnable dirt roads closer to town. Despite the sleep I started to fall asleep while running again, and Sally and I had a 90’s hip hop party to keep me awake, in addition to a 5 minute dirt nap. As the sun rose I felt more alert and we enjoyed the view descending into Jerome. We passed by the start of the Sedona Canyons 125 where runners were gathering, and exchanged some words of encouragement with eventual winner Jeff Browning who was warming up. We snaked through town where some police officers and a random guy seemed amazed at what we were doing, and finally into the Jerome aid station. Here I did my morning breakfast and toothbrush routine, used the porta potty and headed out.
Rough going off Mingus in the middle of the night
Sunrise above Jerome
Jerome 126.5
The Sedona 125 had gone off and most people had passed by the aid station while I resituated myself, we caught a few of the final runners as we headed out of town. We also ran into someone from Aravaipa who informed us that the gate leaving Jerome onto private land, Aravaipa had an agreement with the land owner, had been closed and locked by a disgruntled neighbor. She was going to try to contact the land owner to get it re-opened, in the meantime we would need to climb over the gate. The gate had barbed wire across the top and on the posts on either side. As I awkwardly made my way over on legs that had gone well past their mileage PR I concentrated on not putting my hand on the barbed wire on top of the gate, and instead ran my knee into the rusty barbs to my right on the post. I was bleeding and Sally asked if one of the other guys had hand sanitizer or wipes that we could clean it out with. “I have brandy” was the answer. We used a capful of the airplane bottle, and then he said “It’s open, I might as well just drink it.” Nothing like a shot a few miles into your 125 mile race. We ran some dirt trails and then eventually hit Cottonwood. We had some road miles as we were unable to pass through Tuzigoot National Monument due to fire damage and the high levels of the Verde River. We also spent some time on the Jail Trail which was like beach running and I attempted not to get grit in my shoes as they were the only ones that fit at that point and I wanted to keep my chance of additional blisters low. We then entered Dead Horse State Park, ran down past the aid station and back up to it.
A cap full of brandy saves the day after a run-in with some rusty barbed wire (I got a tetanus shot after the race)
The wild west is a dangerous place folks
Dead Horse 135.6
At Dead Horse I saw my friend Tracy at the aid station. I can’t explain why but I was feeling a bit of a low. I got calories and caffeine into me, and Sally partook in some tacos. We then headed out. The first small section we were behind a line of horses that kicked up dust, but I didn’t want to pass as horses on the trail make me nervous since they can sometimes be skittish. They eventually split off and we began a slow run. I had done this section before in training, it’s fairly runnable with beautiful views. We were hitting it in the heat, and usually I do pretty well in the heat. However, I didn’t bargain for how my body would handle heat after 135+ miles. I could feel myself overheating, and the sun on my calves turned the rash from Fain into patches of fire. At one point I talked Sally into a nap under a bush for 5 minutes of respite. I was stuck in a sort of catch-22. If I pushed the pace I was taxing my body more, if I went slowly I would be out in the exposed sun more. Sally was amazing, encouraging me to run when I could, making sure I was drinking and taking electrolytes. At one point a 125 runner was passing us and asked how long it was to the aid station, Sally said about 4 miles and I could feel myself mentally implode. It felt impossibly far. Sally kept me moving “Can you run to that next tree.” “Can you run to that cairn?” and each time I would grit my teeth and make myself follow her request. Finally the aid station came into view. Sally asked one more time “Can you run to that cairn?” and I croaked back “NO”. She gave me a pass. We hiked into the aid station, the wheels were off the bus.
Before things got really dicey between Dead Horse and Deer Pass
The full glamor of long distance trail running – lying in the dirt trying to get some respite from the sun
Deer Pass 148
I crawled into the back of the 4Runner and out of the sun as quickly as possible. Looking back I think my concern for myself was magnified by the concern I saw in the faces of my crew. The skin on my calves were burning and my ankles were swollen over the sides of my shoes. I shivered uncontrollably, but I could feel the intense heat radiating off my body and gathering under the blanket they had covered me with. Because of the swelling in my calves Lauren was worried about compartment syndrome and asked for the roving medic to stop and check on me. When they arrived I had been laying down for about 35-40 minutes and my heartrate was 95. My blood pressure was 114/63. When they initially did a 2-lead EKG it showed an abnormality, but luckily a full 12-lead showed everything to be fine. The medic told me I should go to the ER. He said he could give me an IV here but then I’d be out of the race. In true ultra-runner fashion I asked if I’d have time to go to the ER and come back to finish. It turns out a trip to the ER would also mean I was out of the race. I lay in the back of the vehicle crying, and Sally crawled in next to me to rub my back. We managed to bargain with them that I would drink a bunch of electrolytes and rest for at least 4 hours and re-evaluate. I still had to sign a form saying I understood they had told me to go to the hospital and I had chosen not to. I had also had to text my husband to get a copy of my insurance card in case I had to go to the hospital, which made the whole thing seem worse since the last thing I wanted to do was have him worry. I drank a whole bottle of LMNT which has 1,200mg of sodium and didn’t taste salty at all to me. Then I took some CBD and laid down.
I awoke to the medics returning to check on me. My heart rate had dropped to 75, but as soon as I stood it shot up to 120. The medic said it was because my body was working so hard just standing. He did say that I could continue and told me to do 2 bottles of electrolytes to every 1 of water. My friend Colleen had showed up to pace me. After the entire ordeal I felt utterly defeated and didn’t know if I wanted to try to go on. How could I possibly go 100 miles when my body was struggling to keep me upright?
This is the place folks where it’s important to have the right people by your side. I found out later that as I went to the bathroom Colleen asked Lauren what the plan was, and Lauren said “She’s going back out.” I came back out and announced that with the way I felt I didn’t think I could cover 100 miles in 60 hours. “That doesn’t matter, you just need to get to the next aid station.” Said Colleen. “But you have to leave by 4am, I don’t think I can make it to the next aid station by then.” Collen replied “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find a way to get back to my car and you’ll finish the section, and your next pacer will be there. We just need to start hiking.” The put my pack on me and started into the dark with Colleen.
Colleen and I had a lot of catching up to do as we hiked through the desert. And then a funny thing happened, I started to feel a little better. I even ran. It was dark through Sedona and I probably missed out on some beautiful scenery, actually I know I did because I had done this section in training as well, but it didn’t matter. I was moving again and all I had to do was keep doing that.
We got to Sedona Posse grounds which I just remember made me think of an alien dance party. I thanked Colleen and laid down for a 90 minute nap in the car.
Sedona Posse Grounds Park 163
I woke up and again repeated my morning routine. I now had Laura with me, another of my coaching clients. We left the aid station and it wasn’t long before it was light out. We got some great views of Sedona, in fact this might be my favorite section of the course as far as scenery was concerned. We passed through Midgely Bridge park with some awesome overlooks of Oak Creek, which we eventually descended to and crossed. There was a rope at the crossing as some parts of the creek were mid-thigh to waist deep. The rope was loose and it required a lot of concentration for me to make it across without getting a bath.
We then climbed Casner Mountain, which provided more amazing views. There was a water stop at some point that I didn’t really need given the cool temps. Then there was a long, dusty stretch of road into the Schnebly Hill aid station.
Even when you’re exhausted Sedona is gorgeous
Crossing Oak Creek
Making our way up Casner Mountain
Schnebly Hill 180.1
Lauren had crew backup now as our friend Jesse had arrived to help drive and take care of me. I took a quick 20 minute nap, refreshed my food and water, checked my feet and I was out again. I honestly remember very little of the next section, I do remember being grateful for Laura being there and that I had an opportunity to get to know her better as a person.
Munds 191.7
I arrived in Munds park aid station and my friend Bri was waiting for me. I took another 20 minute nap. I was still well ahead of cutoffs, but at 6 hours I was closer than I ever thought I would be. For some reason it worried me and in my mental state I had the feeling I was chasing cutoffs. Again I don’t remember a lot of the next section. It was overall fairly runnable, although there were some downed trees for our wet and snowy winter that added some interesting obstacles.
Even tree huggers have their low moments
Kelly Canyon 202.8
One of the interesting things I noticed throughout the race was how you could be alone for hours at a time, but then runners tended to bunch at the aid stations. At Kelly Canyon I laid down for 10 minutes in the medical tent, and then got some hot tea and ramen. There were a few other runners, and one had an odd sense of humor, but my tired brain couldn’t discern if he was joking or serious.
Leaving Kelly we had some more fairly easy trails and then some dirt road. It was cold at this point and I was thankful for every layer I had on. Eventually we crossed under the highway through a tunnel and I started to feel the familiarity of the trails around Fort Tuthill, where I had at one point run the Big Pine 54k. And then at last there was the aid station.
Fort Tuthill 211.3
I was determined for this to be my final night out. It was cold, and I was concerned about the early morning sleepiness because it was too cold for trail naps. I slept for 90 minutes in the 4Runner. Apparently when Lauren woke me I tried to kick her. I then argued with her about how long I had slept and accused her of timing it wrong. I remember none of this. I do remember her offering me different types of food to which I replied with a grunt. It actually is amazing to me looking back that this was the only time I was a terrible person to my crew. I picked up Mandy, one of Bri’s friends, and we headed out. The next section was overall fairly runnable with a few climbs mixed in. I did get to a point where I started to drift off and Mandy talked to keep me awake. Going up some of the final climbs to the Walnut Canyon ais station I dropped Mandy. I was on trails I recognized and I could smell the barn.
Left to Right: Bri, me and Mandy at Walnut Canyon
Walnut Canyon 228.5
Coming into Walnut Canyon two women cheered me into the aid station. When one of them said “Des, Lauren isn’t here yet” my brain finally processed that it was Bri. “It’s fine” I said “Get me food from the aid station and caffeine. If she’s not here by then I’ll just go. Oh, wait, I need to wait for Tracy to pace me.” The other woman looked at me and said “Des, it’s me”. Until that moment I hadn’t even recognized Tracy. My brain was DONE.
Lauren came rushing into the aid station moments later. It seems I had requested a Starbucks oat milk mocha, and all three stores they visited were out of mocha. The gave me a chai latte, which I didn’t want. I decided on one final 20 minute nap. I drank some caffeine, ate breakfast, and then Tracy and I headed out. The next time I would see my crew would be the finish.
Not long after the aid station I ran into another runner I had spent some time with earlier in the race. He had stopped to use the facilities and when he did his cell phone dropped out of his pocket. He was now working backwards searching bush to bush looking for it.
The next section was fairly runnable, and Tracy and I shuffled along and caught up on life. We were now mixed in with some of the Elden Crest runners that had started that morning from Walnut Canyon. Then came the climb up Elden. I had been up Elden before and honestly don’t remember it being this gnarly. Maybe it was the effect of the cumulative miles, or maybe this was a different trail. There was nothing to do but put my head down and grind again. At some point I dropped Tracy. There were rocks and snow piles to navigate, and then finally we hit the towers at the top. Due to the snow blockages the aid station was set a little ways down the access road from the summit, and Tracy caught up to me easily.
Mt Elden 241.5
At the aid station there was a sign declaring that the finish was 8.5 miles away, when I saw it I cried. I think it was the first time that it hit me I was actually going to finish this thing. I greeted some friends at the aid station, and then started down the mountain. Normally a downhill on an access road would be an easy cruise, but my quads and feet screamed at me and I alternated between an awkward shuffling run and a walk. There was a small section of rougher trail, and then I saw the sign stating .9 miles to Buffalo park.
I felt like I was booking it through the park, I’m sure that was not the case. I made a stop off at the bathrooms, and then it was just a matter of making the last couple miles through downtown Flagstaff. Tracy ran ahead of me pushing buttons at cross walks and stopping traffic. Some drivers looked on perplexed while others cheered out the window. As we got closer and closer to heritage square the enormity of the journey hit me. My chest started to hitch and then the tears came. At mile 150 I thought I was headed to the hospital, and somehow here I was 100 miles later running into the finish with over 16 hours to spare.
I turned down the final stretch and saw Lauren, Jesse, my work wife Chris and her husband Scott waiting for me. I hugged all of them as I continued to cry. I turned around to find Tracy to hug her and thank her. There is now video proof that I said I would never ever do this again. And then I sat in a camp chair listening to a drumming circle that was sharing the square with the race finish. I know I greeted some people, many of them Aravaipa staff that I work with, it all seemed like a blur. And then as many ultras end, I got up and hobbled to the car, stopped at a friend’s house for a shower, and headed back to the real world.
Post-race thoughts
Following the race I knew I’d be tired, but I don’t think I anticipated how tired. I felt skinny and weak the following day, I slept 12+ hours every day for the first week, plus naps, and the first day after the race I ate an entire bag of granola for breakfast and never slowed down putting calories in my mouth. It also took me several days to feel like I was connected with reality again. Looking at the race as a whole, here are some of my tips for people thinking about taking on the race:
- Take care of your feet! I’m sure you’ve seen some of the pictures from people who didn’t do this. I made sure to check my feet frequently, pop and tape blisters, and clean off as much grit as possible. Even if you’ve never sized up shoes in a race before (I hadn’t), plan on it. This saved my feet. I don’t wear socks, but if you do bring extras and maybe a variety. Oh, and if you sleep take your socks and shoes off to give your feet a rest.
- Naps. I think I had a good plan but could’ve improved the execution. The first night I wasted time laying there frustrated. If you can’t sleep for whatever reason, I would suggest taking caffeine and moving on. The 5-minute trail naps in the wee hours where I was falling asleep running were perfect. Also, if you have a place you can lay down that’s not in the sleep station, like the back of your crew vehicle, you’ll get more restful sleep.
- Crew and pacers. There are people who do this without crew and pacers, and I have no idea how it’s possible. I would’ve never made it past mile 150 unless my pacer and crew chief pushed me. The company on the trail in low moments is invaluable. And having someone who can organize your stuff while you rest and make sure you don’t make stupid mistakes because you’re tired in priceless. One thing I noticed is Lauren and I got better at the aid station stops as we progressed. I’m not sure what I could’ve done to set us up for success in the first few aid stations, and she did a phenomenal job, but if the first 3 aid stations were as efficient as the rest we might have saved time.
- Hydration/nutrition. Stay on top of these, especially hydration. Even overnight. Even when you don’t feel like you need electrolytes. You are asking a ridiculous amount from your body. And for food, I made sure to eat at least 200 calories an hour, and then get more in at the aid station if possible. This slid to about 200 calories every 90 minutes to 2 hours towards the end of the race as I got more tired and my mouth hurt. I also packed what looked like too much, but it ensured that if I decided I didn’t want certain things I had plenty of others to fill in. I drank Gnarly vegan protein recovery every 20-30 miles and it really helped. I also used caffeine throughout the race.
- Take care of yourself. I witnessed a runner headed backwards into Crown King as I was leaving. They had gone out too fast, their legs were toast, and they were going back to drop. The same runner passed me around mile 100. They had slept for 6 hours and felt better and were moving quickly again. However, I found out after the race that they dropped at Jerome. This isn’t to pass judgment, but it illustrates that at an event like Cocodona speed doesn’t always equal success.
- Anything can happen. I still don’t understand how I went from dying in the back of a vehicle to finishing 100 more miles and making time back. Things will go wrong. When they do you problem solve, and no matter how hopeless it seems you keep moving forward.
- Expect recovery to take a while. Maybe you will be a superhuman who can do multiple 200+ milers in a season, but maybe plan for a long recovery just in case.
Des Clarke is a coach with Team RunRun. To learn more about her or to work with her, check out her coach profile.