My Side of the Cocodona 250

72 hours post-race thoughts

 

Cocodona 250 is a 256 mile foot-race, beginning in Black Canyon City and ending in Flagstaff, AZ. It is 90% trail and 10% pavement, with 40,000 ft of elevation gain and 35,000ft of elevation loss, through the mountains of Arizona.

The race began 5am Monday morning and ends 10am Saturday - a time limit of 125 hours. 310 runners started the race, 190 finished.

I was the 53rd finisher, in a time of 99:59:38

 

Day 1

I started the race surprisingly calm and collected. I expected to be nervous, but I was just excited to get started. The only notable overwhelming emotion was the fact that I was severely missing my kids. I told my wife on the way to the start, "I fucked up." And that I should have arranged for my son to be flown out with us.

Video 1

The first several miles were fairly congested, on single track trail. I found myself somewhere in the middle of the pack and was just moving at the pace of the pack. I was good with this, as I had planned to take the first day conservatively. There is 11,000ft of climbing in the first 33 miles of the course, and it's notoriously one of the hottest and toughest sections. You're required to carry 4L of water during this section. I carried close to 6L in addition to calories and gear - amounting to about a 16lb pack.

Within the first hour of the race, about 3 miles in, I'd taken my first fall. I got tripped up on some roots and hit the ground. No big deal, scraped up my knees, except I'd broke my fall with one of my trekking poles, and I was now down to one. The trekking poles are a great advantage when climbing and descending the mountains, taking some load off of your legs and providing additional stability.

Video 2

My crew on Day 1 consisted of my wife, Samantha, and our friend Rhylee. The first crew-able aid station was Crown King at mile 36, and I finally arrived around 4pm. This stop was much needed. I took some time to refuel, reset, and prepare for a long night ahead. They were able to find me a brand new set of poles as well.

I wouldn't see my crew again until mile 77. The miles in between would still include lots of climbing and descending, but temps were cooler. Instead of carrying 6L of water, I was now carrying 3L, but I was also required to carry gear for cold weather and rain - both of which I'd use throughout the night.

 

Day 2

I arrived at Whiskey Row (mile 77) just before 5am, 24 hours into the race. The night was cold and tough, but I endured it and was still moving well. I passed social media star Andy Glaze through the night, and had a nice short conversation while we were grinding out the midnight hours.

Whiskey Row was a neat spot. It was nice to finally see my crew once again, and at this point, my brother Trey had arrived to join the crew. I hadn't slept yet, so I laid down for a 30 minute nap in the back of our SUV. It was nice to lay horizontal and get some time off the feet for that period, but I was only able to sleep for about 5 minutes of that.

At that time, the 5 minute sleep was still valuable, and the sun was about to come up, so I left Whiskey Row moving and feeling good.

About 5 hours later, I picked up Trey as my first pacer of the race. I don't mind running alone, but it does get difficult to stay focused after days on end by yourself. At this point the field of runners was spread out and I would go hours without seeing anyone. In addition, sharing miles with my brother is special to me. It was able to re-ignite me and he was able to push me in spots where I would have been moving slower by myself. Trey paced me for about 19 miles this day, which included a long climb to the top of Mingus Mountain.

We stopped at the aid station at Mingus. It was much needed after a long climb. I had started to get some stomach discomfort for the first time in the race. I popped an Immodium, refueled, and warmed up. Next up was the Mingus descent, a notoriously long and rocky descent, and as I was getting ready to begin the trek, a steady rain set in.

This was a 17 mile section, and I tackled it alone. IT. WAS. HELL. The rain rarely let up, the temps dropped. This first part of the section was rocky, slow, and somewhat technical. The later part of the section was a fucking mudslide. Avoiding huge puddles for miles and miles, trying not to soak my feet. Eventually I gave up on that and just bit down and ran. The temps had dropped and I needed to keep my body moving to avoid becoming hypothermic. This was mentally and physically exhausting. Eventually I made it off the mountain and to Jerome (mile 125) around 10pm.

Drew, a 2024 Cocodona finisher, had joined the crew at this point. I hadn't planned on sleeping yet, but the mentally exhausting section before had changed my mind. I slept here for about 45 minutes. I also did a full change of clothes, socks, and shoes here.

It was then that my wife, Sam, set off to pace me for the next 8 mile section. I was tired and struggling to wake up, but it was nice to spend this section with my wife and we got it done. This section also included the only creek crossing of the race, which was a little over knee deep.

Day 3

After completing the last section with Sam, I chose to do the next section alone. I changed socks and shoes again into a dry set after the creek crossing and was on my way around 4am. I started out sleepy and found myself resting on the side of the trail early, but started to regroup once the sun came up.

That took me to Deer Pass (mile 148). I was feeling good here and knew I was picking up Trey again to pace me for the next 14 mile section to Sedona. I knew this was a scenic section that I had been looking forward to, and wanted to share that with Trey. It was tough and warming up, but it didn't disappoint. We were moving really well through this section. I came into Sedona (mile 162) early afternoon, right on projected pace for my 91 hour A goal.

At Sedona I dropped off Trey and picked up Drew for his first pacing duties. The next section was about 15 miles and included the beautiful (and a little sketchy) Hangover Trail. The steep slickrock climbs and descents offered amazing views, but slowed my pace down and started to beat up my feet for sure.

We arrived at Foxboro Ranch (mile 177) around 8pm Wednesday. I knew I needed to get some sleep here as the next section was a long one through the night - with no pacers allowed. My feet were also begging for a break. I ate good here and slept for another 45 minutes, before heading out into the cold night for a 16 mile section alone.

This section ended up being the lowest section mentally for me. I was so tired and alone. So cold. And I knew I had hoursss of this. I laid down on the side of the trail several times throughout this section, but every time I stopped, I got too cold before I could get any sleep and had to keep moving - albeit not much more than a crawl. I lost time here and began to fall behind my 91 hour goal pace.

Day 4

Finally I'd deliriously stumble into Munds Park (mile 193). I got a much needed 45 minute sleep here, but really struggled to wake back up. It may have been here where Sam woke me up and I asked "For what?" She replied, "For the Cocodona 250" and I grumbled in disgust. It was also here that my emotions went into a whirlwind. This was the last aid station I'd see my brother, as his flight home departed a few hours later. I was beating myself up for not planning the pacing sections differently or keeping him out there longer. I hugged him, speechlessly asked for my poles, and got the hell out of there as tears would roll down my face.

The emotions continued throughout the next section alone, but I was able to use them as fuel to keep my going. Here, I posted my update video at mile 202, and regained composure. I knew I'd have these lows to battle at some point. I won the fucking battle and was prepared to win the war to the finish.

Video 3

This brought me to Fort Tuthill (mile 214) where I'd see my crew again. I was feeling the effects of 214 miles, but the end was in sight. I refueled and took my socks off for the final time. My feet were in pain and swollen. I had several blisters, and decided it was time to pop a blister and do some foot care to try to relieve some pressure in my shoes.

As I got prepared to head out on the next 16 mile section alone (no pacers allowed), I first had to pass a medical evaluation in order to leave the station. I was with it enough to pass the evaluation, but the interaction with the medic asking the questions was enough to irritate and annoy me, and I'd struggle to come out of that state of mind for several miles.

All within about a mile into the next section, my electrolyte drink bottle sprung a leak and started to leak all over, so I poured it out. My backup phone battery went dead leaving me with 17% phone battery for the next section. So no music. The route out of the aid station was confusing. My feet hurt, and I struggled to find motivation as my 91 hour finish time was slipping out of reach.

I sat down on a log, downed a caffeine pill, tylenol, ibuprofen, and a salt tablet. I texted Sam looking for some motivation and eventually had her arrange a Facetime call with my kids back home. After a tear jerking 5 minute conversation with Denver and Aspen, I had some motivation to get this fucking thing done and get back home. But that was short-lived. My legs and feet were in an incredible amount of pain, and the next miles to aid were a struggle. I almost stumbled onto a snake, however, and that got my attention for a while.

Finally, I arrived at Walnut Canyon aid station (mile 230) around 8pm. I got my aid and refueled for the next section. I opted not to sleep, as I was just a marathon from the finish, and Sam would pace the next "short" 7 mile section. This would come back to haunt me. I also switched into road shoes here as I thought the extra cushion might help my bruised and battered feet.

Sam and I left the aid station hoping to move well in an easier section, but it wasn't long before she was nearly dragging me along. Every step for me was intense pain, and I was struggling to stay awake. I saw several hallucinations, mostly I thought every log, rock, anything was alive or had a face. There was a point we stopped for me to rest for a minute and as I stood back up I thought Sam's dad was standing next to me and startled me, but there was nothing there at all.

Eventually we made it to Wildcat Hill (237). All hope for a 91 hour finished had been lost after struggling through the last couple of sections, and I needed to sleep, so I took one last 45 minute nap here.

Day 5

Drew stepped in for the final pacing duties to the finish here. We left Wildcat Hill around 1am to tackle the dreaded climb up and down Mt. Elden. A 15 mile section with 3400 feet of climbing and 3000 ft of descent. The nap kept me sane until sunrise, but the climb up Elden was long and taxing. Once to the top, we took a moment to soak it in, an amazing view, before tackling the steep descent down Elden. It was then that I was regretting staying in my road shoes for this section. Although the climb was a lot of big steps off rocks, there was also a lot of loose rock and the road shoes offered little traction in that. My quads were trembling all the way down the mountain.

As we were approaching the bottom of the descent, Drew informed me that he and Sam had been texting about the fact that a sub 100 hour finish was in reach, but we'd have to go for it. At that time, the terrain wasn't very runnable and my quads were still recovering, so we picked up the hiking pace and I told him I'd make that decision once we got to the final aid station, Trinity Heights (252) with 4 miles to go.

We approached Trinity Heights at 99:20. That'd mean sub 10 minute miles for the final 4 miles. My average pace for the race had been about 23:00/mi (including all stopped time). I said, "let's go for it" and Drew didn't bat an eye and we picked up the pace. We blew past the aid station, only asking how far ahead the next runner was. Confused at first, they finally responded he'd left that aid station about 5 minutes prior.

I was hopeful the final 4 miles were flat pavement, but the next couple were rolling trails, but very runnable. We did our best to stay under that 10 minute pace.

Within the last mile or two, I just fucking sent it. I turned to Drew and said, "this is fucking surreal, I don't know how I'm doing this." Just a few hours prior, I'd been struggling to stay awake and put one foot in front of the other. I was now running 9 minute pace.

With about half a mile to go, I'd passed the runner in front of me. I'd given them a heads-up from behind, hoping he'd race me to a dramatic finish, but he and his pacer stepped aside in awe. From there I never looked back, and sprinted to the finish.

As I got to the finish line I noticed the clock. 99:59:38. I fucking did it. I overcame so much adversity and pulled off a spectacular finish. As I crossed the finish line, the raw emotion leaving my body was electric. The culmination of so much hard work, perseverance, focus, and the will to endure all obstacles life throws at you. The feeling is like no other and I will never forget these moments.

Video 4

The Takeaway

I didn't tell many, but going into this race, I was struggling with some severe shin pain for several weeks leading up to the race. After running a 50-mile race 3 weeks before, I couldn't bear weight on that leg for 2 days and had to drastically modify my training. I was worried it may have been stress-fractured, but wasn't willing to get it checked out by an expert, because this race meant more to me than listening to any sort of medical advice.

Miraculously, the shin was a non-issue after 5-10 miles of the Cocodona race, so I was likely just dealing with severe shin splints.

At the end of the day, this race was just a true test of the will to endure. I knew I was going to war, and I wasn't going to war with anyone but myself and whatever life throws at me.

You just have to want to. If you want something, and you're willing to give WHATEVER IT TAKES to get that, YOU WILL get that.

I don't have anything different than what anyone else has. What sets me apart from most people is that I'm willing to push those limits, even when you don't think it's possible. But the limits don't actually exist. Pushing yourself unlocks new "limits."

I fucking did it. I won the war on Friday. Now it's on to the next.

Thank you all for your support.