Mt. Taylor 50k Race Report
Two days post race, and I was feeling that inevitable D.O.M.S. - delayed onset muscle soreness. Do you want to know if it was worth it? Heck yes.
Note: I will interchange "I" and "We" throughout, as I completed this race with my training partner and coach, Johann Warnholtz (www.runwanderwonder.com).
From the moment I signed up for the Mt. Taylor 50k, the communication and organization was phenomenal. In the weeks leading up to the race, we received email updates on how the course maintenance was coming along, what to expect, what to remember to bring, and other pertinent information. Coming from out of town, this helped me to pack properly and feel prepared.
While we had originally planned to camp during this trip, the forecast threatened thunder storms, so we opted last minute to stay at the host hotel, the Red Lion Hotel. Everyone at the hotel was extremely friendly and accommodating.
I did not partake in the pre-race pasta dinner, as I am gluten intolerant, but I did pack myself an alternative dinner and attend the pre-race meeting. There were a lot of participants at the meeting, and it was nice to mingle with a few fellow runners, as well as some volunteers. We heard from the race organizers, Ken and Kurt, a young Navajo man who has been a part of the charity that the race benefits, and Gordon Ainsleigh, the pioneer of ultra running himself! It was informative, inspirational and entertaining.
Fast forward to race morning: the promised early breakfast at the hotel was a little late, so we chose to eat breakfast in our room. We left Grants at 5 am, which allowed us ample time to get up the mountain, park, and walk to the start line. A note about parking - space is limited, we brought people with us both to and from the mountain to carpool, and there are only two lot areas for participant parking, one for low clearance vehicles and one for high clearance vehicles. Be prepared with 4WD if you have a high clearance vehicle; the morning is dark, and we had to maneuver over some rocky terrain.
It was beneficial to have a headlamp to navigate to the start line, but it was not really necessary by the time the actual race started, mostly just personal preference. After situating our drop bags, shedding layers and lining up in the corral, there was a faint "Go!" and off we went.
There was no room for a false sense of hope - the race begins with a 3 mile climb. It took adjusting to the elevation right out of the chute; the entire race is above 9,000 feet, and there is a total gain of 7,000 feet. The sun greets you at La Mosca Peak, and it's a beautiful moment to catch your breath and take a photograph.
There is a small aid station near mile 4 (thank you to those who camped out!), and you start your first descent, thankfully. It is mostly downhill and rolling hills to the mile 10.5 aid station. All of the volunteers were beyond wonderful, but the group at this aid station were quite animated, even taking a "selfie" with a group of us runners who had linked up together at that point in the race. The aid stations from there on out had a whole spread of snacks and treats, electrolytes, and water.
Shortly after mile 11, you take a sharp left onto the Continental Divide Trail. This single-track is serene, but don't let it fool you, it climbs back up to the half-way point at mile 16. There was a lovely woman bundled up in a camping chair just before mile 16, and she radioed to those at the aid station - by the time we arrived, the volunteers were cheering us on by name, had our drop bags ready for us, and Ken and Margaret personally asked us how we were feeling. The personalization was a really nice touch.
I reluctantly have to mention, as we headed out for the second half of our race, the first male finisher was coming in strong with a big smile on his face. It happened to be the young Navajo man that spoke the night before. It was very sentimental for him to win, as a local and an Olympic hopeful, it was his first ultra. You have to put yourself in the right mindset and remember that each person's journey is different; you give what you're capable of in that day/place/moment and trudge on.
The Aspen trees along the next few miles were breathtaking, another excuse for a photo op. We quickly reached the Gooseberry Aid Station at mile 21, the last breather before the BIG ascend up Mt. Taylor. We took our time at this aid station, bracing ourselves for the toughest portion of the race.
The ascent started along another single-track, but eventually opened up to what felt like a large meadow. You could see the small ridge at the top of the meadow, but that most certainly was not the summit of Mt. Taylor. Let me be frank, this hike was not easy. Once we crested that now seemingly small ridge, we traversed along the backside of the adjacent ridge. The view was expanse! As you continue onward, the steep switchback up to the summit comes into view. Your heart sinks into your stomach for a moment, but you tell yourself you are almost there, and put one foot in front of the other. We did just that - put one foot in front of the other for the next few miles, limiting our glances upward.
The summit felt like a small rock, but relief settled in. We posed for our obligatory picture with the "Mt. Taylor Elevation 11, 301" sign. Luckily, although the weather was beginning to turn stormy, the view was still relatively clear. It is truly stunning. At this point, we put on our jackets, as the breeze quickly chilled, and headed down toward Caldera Rim. The descent was a nice change of pace.
We felt good at the rim. The continued descent into Water Canyon was a much needed cruise physically, but also mentally. And then you hit mile 28.
Mile 28 marks the start of the uphill back out of the canyon. My legs were screaming. It started to hail. I just had to laugh it off. What more could I do? There was never a hesitation of quitting. Period. I said, out loud, "Bring it on, Mt. Taylor!" We pushed on with relentless forward motion, back to the Caldera Rim Aid Station. Homestretch ahead!!
There was a gradual 1/4 mile uphill, and then it was all downhill to the finish. The technical, rocky terrain was reminiscent of the familiar Arizona trails that we know so well, and we turned on the throttle. A mere 300 yards to the finish, we stopped to take a photo of the last hanging banner of encouragement (there were 3 throughout the course), a quote from Gordon Ainsleigh: "I want to thank the rest of you for making me look normal."
A final time of 9:23:30, Ken personally handed each runner their finisher medal. We all received a door prize, and each of the women received a handmade Navajo bracelet.
The course was very challenging. The elevation was brutal. Yet, the race was immaculate; the memories, priceless. It's been a week since the race, and I'm still smiling thinking about it.
Warm thank-yous abound. Thank you to Ken, Kurt, and Margaret. Thank you to all of the fabulous volunteers. Thank you to all of the fellow runners for their comradery.
I am an Ultrarunner!
