After dropping out at mile 24 last year, I had sworn I would never run the race again, but here I was, almost exactly a year later, on the start line of the Black Canyon 100K cold and excited and just a little bit scared. Two and a half weeks prior, our trip to New Zealand felt apart after a flight cancelation and, with it, my plans to run Tarawera 100K. After a night wondering what to do instead in Los Angeles, we met up with a friend in Pasadena, ran a great 13-mile loop, then drove to the Palm Desert area where we spent the next week with my mom and step-dad, running and relaxing and enjoying warm weather. Without any other plans, we ran the point-to-point Joshua Tree Traverse and set the mixed-gender team FKT, then rested for three days before running the Art Smith Trail FKT.
Both of these times were fairly stout, and that wasn’t a coincidence. While I’m a relatively high-mileage runner year round, I had put in extra time into training, running 75-90 mile weeks in the months leading up to Tarawera. I was feeling fit and ready. With New Zealand canceled, and my fitness already tested at Calico 50K in January and two FKTs in early February, why not see where I might fall at the competitive Black Canyon 100K? There was still space available, so I signed up.
We’re lucky to live just a hour from the start of the race, so Nick and I awoke at 4:45am, fed 18 animals (we boarded the big dogs, Mohi and Jack, overnight), plopped Cashew into the car, made some tea and toast, then headed to Black Canyon. Temperatures were chilly, so after grabbing my bib, I hurried back to the car and stayed warm until I had to leave at 5:45. Runners congregated around the track and at 6am, we started. Aravaipa’s Black Canyon is a big race—704 runners finished the 100K race alone—but with the runners split into three waves, the size was slightly more bearable. I knew, having run the first third of the race last year, that I would need to start faster if I wanted a chance to be competitive. Once you were on the single track portion of the course, it was hard to pass.
The early miles were smooth and fast and I found myself feeling like I was floating over the technical trails. Within the first mile, I found myself matching pace with Norwegian runner Yngvild Kaspersen, who I tucked behind when the road turned off onto forest road and then single track. The miles went by quickly, and I did my best to keep up with my fuel plan, which was to take in a Spring Energy gel every 30-45 minutes. I had gone light for the beginning of the run, carrying just one handheld, but I relied on the fact that the day wouldn’t heat up until at least the Bumblebee Aid Station. I reached Antelope Mesa, the first aid station at mile 7.7, in 55 minutes and Hidden Treasure Mine, the second aid station at mile 12.9, in 1 hour, 33 minutes. For perspective, that’s 7:12 and 7:13 minutes per mile, respectively, which demonstrates just how fast this race is from the start. I estimate that I was around 12th place female at this point.
Bumblebee Aid station at mile 19.4 was everything I expected—loud and exciting and packed with people eager to help their runners along. Nick waved me over and within a minute we had exchanged my empty gels for new ones and swapped the single handheld for two, then I was out. I was looking forward to getting past mile 24 where I had dropped with painful period cramps in 2022–everything from that point onward would be new.
Since I had been planning on racing Tarawera, I hadn’t run a single part of the Black Canyon trail in preparation. I don’t think this was necessarily a drawback, since the terrain is relatively similar to Sedona’s trails: filled with rocks, lots of up-and-downs, creek crossings, and agave or prickly pear threatening to slice open a shin with one misstep. The day was starting to heat up and I was glad for the second bottle of water. I knew I was ahead of Yngvild as I had left the aid station before her, and I watched as Ailsa Macdonald powered on up the climbs. She looked strong, and I briefly wondered if I was moving fast enough. Though I was already starting to get sick of gels, I kept eating.
At the 50K mark, I remember glancing down at my watch and being surprised with the time: 4 hours, 16 minutes. This was a fast 50K, and yet I was somehow going to be running double this distance!?
At Black Canyon City, I nearly missed Nick. “I need something other than water,” I said, so he ran me over to where Cashew was sitting with all of the extra supplies. As Nick traded out used gels for fresh ones from my pockets, I downed a 16 oz can of coconut water and then half of a sparkling water, my thirst slaked. I had planned to start using music at mile 19, but realized that the longer I waited, the more of a reward it might be, so threw on my headset and pressed play before I left.
Leaving Black Canyon City at mile 37.5 at 5 hours, 7 minutes, I realized I had run these first 37-something miles faster than Nick and I had run the Joshua Tree Traverse, and we had pushed hard for almost the entire way. I did a quick reflection: was I eating okay? Yes. Was I feeling good? Yes. Did this pace feel sustainable? I paused to assess. I think so?
Since the miles leading in and out of Black Canyon City are an out-and-back to the aid station, I passed many runners, both ahead of and behind me. The top women were cruising, and I counted myself at 10 or 11, though there would be carnage to come as the toughest climb of the course was only just beginning. With the music fresh in my ears, I found myself running well up these climbs that just kept going and going. Yngvild had passed sometime back, and as I ran a few switchbacks behind her, I used her strong pace as a guide for how I should aim to move.
For the next 16 miles, the trail would wind: short, punchy climbs, switchbacks down into dry washes, creek crossing with water up to my knees and whose outer banks were slick with mud that threatened to slide you right back into the water; on and on and on. At the top of one of the climbs, I briefly sat down in the shade to calm my heart rate and catch a breath. Then, ten seconds later, I got back up and kept running. At this point, I had no idea who had kept going and who had dropped, so my only goal was to move as fast as I could, while keeping in mind I needed to hold it together for the full 62 miles.
Finally, I was at Table Mesa at mile 51. Hungry and hot, I downed another sparkling water and ate a few handfuls of salty Pop Chips before Nick handed me my Ultraspire pack. While Nick was getting me ready, a man came up to me and asked if I wanted a pacer for the final station. I had never seen him before in my life.
“Sure?” I said, hesitant. I guess it sounded nice to have someone for the remaining 11 miles of the race.
“Cool” he said. I waved goodbye to Nick, and then ran out, my new pacer following behind me.
After he introduced himself (“Hi, Charlie!”), he filled me in on the fact that we had a mutual friend running the race and he was happy to have the chance to pace someone.
In the frenzy of meeting my new pacer and the fatigue of having already ran 50+ miles, I failed to bring along any—and I mean any—food for this final section. This would, predictably, come to hurt.
Charlie was friendly and talkative, and I enjoyed chatting between labored breaths uphills. I had no idea where I was placement-wise, nor did Charlie, so I did my best to move as fast as I could, which was progressively getting slower without food. Just five more miles, then four, then three…and then finally I was at the final aid station at Doe Spring and wolfing down as many watermelon slices as I could. After eating six in a row, it was time to move on and get this race finished.
A mile out from the aid station, Georgia Porter came sprinting by with her pacer, I figure to look as strong and fast as possible so that I wouldn’t give chase. Without any acknowledgement, they were gone. Charlie asked if I was going to keep her in my line of sight, but I didn’t think it was possible. I was giving it my all, and this pace was what I had.
Finally, the blue HOKA signs were visible which meant that we were less than one mile from the finish! My legs surprisingly began to move and I asked Charlie several times if that giant tent with the sound was actually the finish (as opposed to what, in the middle of the desert, I’m not sure.) Nine hours, 26 minutes and I was done, good enough for 9th place female and 33rd overall. Any other year, this time would have been good enough for 3rd or 4th female, which demonstrates just how competitive this and many other trail/ultra races are becoming. There were so many fast women at this race, and it was exhilarating having the chance to run among them.
While I’ve finished several 100-mile races, this was my first time completing the 100K distance specifically. While I enjoyed the technicality of the course, the net downhill does not play to my strengths (I’m typically stronger at races with high vert) so I feel good about my finishing time. I do think I’m capable of running a faster time on this course, and that much of that depends on fueling better toward the end of longer races. If I can critique my race (which is helpful to do, no matter the outcome), I’d point to the lack of calories in the back third of the race as being a weakness—having some options to go would have been helpful, and the fact that I downed six large slices of watermelon at the final aid station suggests that I was obviously depleted. Next time I’d have different options available at the crewed aid stations so I can grab something that I’ve packed ahead of time and take it with me. For example, a bag with a few handful of Pop Chips might work well, especially because of the salt. Liquid calories would also be a good choice.
Thank you to new friend, Charlie, for jumping in last minute to pace me and to Nick for crewing me. I can think of only two races that Nick has not been at in the 9 years I’ve been running (a trail marathon and the Broken Arrow Triple Crown) and that means a lot. Cashew, too!
Thank you to my sponsors Injinji, Ultraspire, and Spring Energy for the great gear and products. Here’s what I used during the race:
Fantastic description of your race. Jade. I really enjoyed reading it!!1
That was a really good race report. Glad you chose to run it again and congrats on having such a great outcome !!! You killed it 💪🏼
Enjoyed reading about your experience
I saw the article in the NY times and decided to check out your site. You sound like a nice couple. You write very well. I work in the Department of Mental Health at the Bloomberg School of Public Health and it was good to see an article where people are open about the mental health challenges they are facing & trying to make sure that exercise plays a positive role in their lives.