Friday, March 16, 2018

Finding Home in the Canyons

On Sunday, May 4th, 2018 I returned to the Ultra Maraton Caballo Blanco (UMCB). What a dream come true. 






The journey to Urique, Chihuahua, MX in the region known as the Copper Canyons is in itself an adventure, and throw in a 50 miler with the native Raramuri-hugely accomplished runners who have centuries old traditions of distance running- the whole experience becomes transcendent.


This was my second time coming to the UMCB. The first time down was my first official ultra marathon, and the experience was life changing. The community of runners, who became best friends in instants, the atmosphere of the hamlet of Urique, and the run itself. Ah, the run. Allowing my body to run through the canyons side by side with traditionally dressed local people: abuelas with long flowing dresses, abuelos with huarache sandals, skirts and wooden walking sticks, kids wearing jeans-- and all of us smiling, laughing, and feeling the joy of the run.

Running the bridge back from Los Alisos in 2013

Finishing 2013

This second time was all of the above and more. The trip down to the canyons this time included a flight to cuidad Chihuahua, where I met up with Graham and Katie (aka Beardy and Blondie)- the scots, and Peter, the brit- friends from the 2013 race. It's amazing how these connections last. I was sleep deprived and muddled as we chatted over tacos and beers, and extremely thankful for a restful night of sleep before driving down to the canyons the following day.

Blondie, Beardy, Mike Miller in the background, and me on the side right before the race.
Next morning, I met up with Mike Miller, his wife Citlali, their good friend Hilary and the legendary Barefoot Ted for an adventure of a drive 8+ hours from Cuidad Chihuahua to Urique, at the base of the canyons. It was a bumpy ride full of chatter, excitement, and a shared love of this special land. Citlali, Mike and Hilary all work in natural resources, and Citlali had worked for years on restoration and conservation projects right in the region we were traveling through. Barefoot Ted has been coming to the canyons since 2006 during the well published inaugural race.


The gang in the back! Dramamine is already kicking in!

Our noble Jeep Cherokee getting some petrol love.

After some dramamine induced napping, I found myself, along with my new compadres, finally arriving safe and sound at Entre Amigos, the local campground and hostel where many of the international runners end up posting up in town. It felt like coming home. Beauty all around me, and a calm that only comes when you are surrounded by sleepy mountains, flowing rivers and blankets of stars.






So, after some raucous reunions with fellow Mas Locos over the days prior to the race...






And the annual caballitos kids race:



The day finally arrived to experience the magic of the UMCB race. The morning brought cool temperatures and my legs felt fresh and strong. The first 15 miles flew by in joyous movement and friendly chatter with fellow runners.


Here's where things changed: during the long, fast descent from Las Naranjas, I slipped a bit on a rock and rolled my left ankle. I heard a "POP", felt electric pain shoot up my leg and thought, "this is it. I'm finished." I tried to comfort myself by thinking, "at least I had a wonderful time with friends. I guess I'll just cheer people on at the finish."

I really thought my race was over and there would be no way I could complete another 35 miles hobbling along. However, I began to walk, then began to jog, and by being careful and slow, I managed to press on.


At mile 30, at the aid station at Los Alisos (following a straight up death march up to the top of the canyon in the blazing noon heat), the medical staff took a look at my ankle, wrapped it and gave me a pain killer.

Fortunately, that was all I had to take. By hydrating, eating salty snacks and plenty of dates, I managed to fight off nausea, and by being careful about my footing, I managed to stay pain free.
The church at Guadalupe

Before I knew it, I was 10 miles to finish with a final climb to Guadalupe and decent back to town. The final miles flew past in a blur. I was slightly nauseated, but it had finally cooled off, and I had a chance to ditch my race pack for a handheld water bottle at my campground for the last 0.5 miles to the finish.


Finishing felt great. I couldn't believe that I had managed to cross the finish line at all, let alone come in eighth place (F) and knock 35 minutes off my previous course record (10:41 official time).

I was elated and more importantly, with some refreshing soda and salty tortillas, I managed to stave off post-race nausea. Phew! Dodged the bullets of damaged ligaments and intestines turned into acidic knots by S-caps, snacks, water, electrolyte drinks and generally pounding around for 10 hours 40 minutes.

Highlights of this beautiful run for me: the people: young, old, dressed in jeans or full dresses or running kits, wearing sandals, no shoes, tennis shoes, running shoes, skin every shade of browns, tans, pale yellows, pinks. All of us, together, smiling, grimacing, chatting, cheering each other on. This is the magic of this race.


Okay, yes, that was the highlight, but it also felt pretty damn good to get to stand on the stage with the other top 10 females of the race, plus party and eat and cheer and hug my fellow Mas Locos through the late evening.


Now, I am home. My ankle decided to swell up and tell me to lay low. I got a cold. I went right to into my 60 hour per week job, and began quickly to numb myself with bad television and excessive snacking. This is life: the ups and downs- community, hard work, enlightening experiences, joy and accomplishment and then the let down- loneliness, more hard work, traffic, drudgery... AND
saving energy for the next grand adventure.