Truckee

We started the trip 9 days before the race in Truckee for altitude and heat training. There were a lot of people coming through at different times: Anna and Eliza, Cyrus for the weekend, Ash and Joe and their friend Inigo. We were working remote, running snowy trails, doing some gravel biking, cooking a bunch, and spending a probably unreasonable amount of time in the sauna and hot tub.

Sauna hats in the Truckee house mirror — Truckee training camp.

Sauna time in Truckee — Truckee training camp.

The week went by in the blink of an eye. We spent some time talking about the course, looking at plans, thinking through crew stops, and generally trying to convince ourselves we knew what we were doing. At some point we went up around Donner Pass for a nice little hike and a bit of off-roading. One night it snowed and we woke up to a little dusting, which made the whole place feel very pretty and very fake.

Snowy trail running near Truckee — Snowy trails, Donner Pass, and one nice little dusting.

Donner Pass view before Canyons — Snowy trails, Donner Pass, and one nice little dusting.

The final prep was mostly bags. Carbs in bags, SiS green apple gels in bags, toilet paper in bags, salt pills in bags, writing things on bags, putting those bags into other bags, then putting those bags into even bigger bags. A lot of bags.

Race supplies packed into labeled bags — Truckee bag operations.

Toilet paper packed into race bags — Truckee bag operations.

Colfax

After seven nights in Truckee, we drove toward Auburn and stayed in a huge house in Colfax. It was tucked way out in a rural area with forest all around it, and the whole place had a very specific personality. There was a neighbor with big quiet hours and no trespassing signs, and the host had warned us about him, so that became a bit immediately.

Anna and I had the third floor, with a balcony, nice views, and for some reason the nicest massage chair I have ever tried. The owners used to breed Bichon Frise dogs at the house, so it had all these strange quirks. Like a full grooming room in the basement and also an underground tunnel for dogs going from the kitchen island downstairs to the backyard.

Third floor room in the Colfax house — The Colfax house was huge and extremely specific.

Massage chair in the Colfax house — The Colfax house was huge and extremely specific.

On Thursday, the day we got there, we picked up bibs, got Thai food, and settled into the Colfax house.

Thai food after bib pickup before Canyons — Thursday bib pickup, Thai food, and Colfax sunset.

Sunset near Colfax before Canyons — Thursday bib pickup, Thai food, and Colfax sunset.

On Friday, there was a trail down to a lake, so we did a little shakeout run. After that we packed the race bags and settled into the usual pre-race sorting and second-guessing.

Shakeout run near Colfax the day before Canyons — Friday shakeout run.

Cyrus made a kilo and a half of his famous Cyrus goo, which is literally sugar and water. Simple syrup in tubes. It is incredible to watch someone put that much sugar into little containers and know that the plan is to put all of it into his body later. Douglas made an insane amount of lasagna. Everyone ate a lot. Then we tried to go to bed early and, of course, did not sleep that much.

Canyons race kit laid out before race day — Race kit, Cyrus goo, and a very serious amount of lasagna.

Cyrus making homemade race fuel — Race kit, Cyrus goo, and a very serious amount of lasagna.

Mathilde's message to the runners the night before Canyons — Mathilde's note the night before.

Race Start to Deadwood 1

The next morning started around 2 a.m. We drove to the shuttle pickup, got on a bus around 3 a.m., and took the hour-plus ride to the start at China Wall. On the way there, some people working the race warned us that the bathrooms at the start had burned down. It sounded like a joke. Like, sure, the bathrooms burned down. Good one.

Then we got there and saw the huge puddle of melted plastic goop from 21 burned-down porta-potties. Very real. Thankfully the race organizers had brought more, so the morning did not become a total disaster.

It was cold at the start. We had warm clothes, dropped them in the morning bags, and stood around waiting. The pro men went off at 5 a.m., the pro women shortly after, and then the goobers, aka all of us, started running.

Group photo at the Canyons 100K race start — Race start.

Canyons 100K start line before sunrise — China Wall, before sunrise.

It was dark at first, headlamps on, everyone bunched together. We warmed up fast. Maybe an hour or a little more into the race, the sun came out and it turned into this beautiful day. The early course had some real climbs, like 1,500 to 2,000 feet at a time, but spirits were high and the whole thing still felt fun.

Headlamps in the dark at Canyons 100K — Headlamps in the dark.

Deadwood 1, Devil's Thumb, Swinging Bridge, and Back

At Deadwood 1 the vibes were great. Music, people yelling, everyone moving. I refilled my bottles and learned very quickly that dumping a Ziploc bag with 100 grams of carbs into a flask and shaking it into something drinkable is actually kind of hard. I had some chunkiness in the bottles for the rest of the race, but carbs are carbs at the end of the day.

There was an out-and-back from Devil's Thumb down to Swinging Bridge and back up. It was basically straight down, straight back up.

Runners climbing through the forest during the Swinging Bridge out-and-back — Swinging Bridge out-and-back.

Douglas and I were having a great time here. We started reading names off people's bibs as they came the other way and hyping them up with little nicknames. The best part was the range of reactions. Some people loved it and yelled back at us. Other people were so confused they almost fell off the trail. We kept that bit going for a while.

Michigan Bluff to Foresthill

Eventually we got back up and started moving toward Michigan Bluff, the first crew station, around mile 23 or 24. Seeing the crew for the first time was great. I was tired, but not in the pain cave. It still felt like a fun, easy run, which is a funny thing to say when you have already almost run a marathon.

Mathilde was crewing for me, and she was an absolute legend. A real grizzled ultra veteran. She had a chair ready, helped me change out of my wet shoes and stinky wet socks after the river crossing, refilled everything, gave me wipes, and generally handled everything I could have possibly needed.

This was also the first little tactical mistake of the day. The girls were ready before the boys, and while we were daydreaming and relaxing, Anna, Eliza, and Cara took off. Once we realized they were gone, we got moving too. I started with Luke, Douglas, and Cyrus. Then Cyrus and Douglas started speeding up to try to catch the girls. I hung back with Luke for a bit, thinking through whether I should keep it easy or chase the bigger group.

Leaving Michigan Bluff during Canyons 100K — Leaving Michigan Bluff.

Eventually I decided that even if it made the race harder right then, the day would probably be easier if I could stay with more people. So I took off. Luke was still moving well, so I felt good about him.

I kept running faster and faster downhill, trying to catch Cyrus and Douglas, and somehow I still could not see them. At some point I was basically sprinting down this long flowy hill. Finally, at the bottom, there was another river crossing, my shoes got completely soaked again, and I caught Cyrus and Douglas. Right after that, we caught the girls. The big group was back together.

Running with the group before Foresthill during Canyons 100K — Back together before Foresthill.

Foresthill to Cal 2

The next major crew stop was Foresthill. We had a big road climb up into it, and I still felt pretty good. Tired, obviously, but confident. It all still felt relatively controlled.

I changed socks again because my feet were wet again, but I had no more dry shoes. Next race I guess I need to bring four pairs of shoes instead of two.

Foresthill crew stop during Canyons 100K — Foresthill crew stop.

Crew stop during Canyons 100K — Foresthill reset.

I caught a glimpse of Cyrus taking off from Foresthill and thankfully I was ready, so I chased after him. Then everyone started chasing after me, and we were moving again. For a little while we were all together, but then Douglas and Cyrus started peeling off, and Cara had already snuck away earlier. I did not see her again for a long time.

For a while it was me and Anna and Eliza, and this is where the race really started to hurt. It got hot and exposed. The pace was not fast, but Anna kept us moving, and that mattered a lot. We were jogging more than walking. At that point, just continuing to jog is a real thing.

We ran into a guy named Ben, who told us that a few years earlier he had fallen 400 feet while climbing and broken his back. That was one of those stories that gives you a little energy because suddenly your own problem feels less dramatic. Also it was just nice to be distracted.

Anna kept saying she could see Cyrus ahead. I kept saying I did not see Cyrus. She kept pointing at this pink hat and I kept thinking he was long gone. Eventually, of course, we actually did catch him, and then we had a little band of four again.

Around mile 37 at Cal 2, I ate real food for the first time all day: a quesadilla and a little sip of broth. It might have been one of the best quesadillas I have ever eaten in my life.

Cal 2 to Drivers Flat

We dropped down toward the bottom of the canyon and started running along this huge river. It was cooler down there, which was nice. At some point we also caught Douglas again, so we had a group of five.

The vibes were pretty good, but I was getting real tired. There was a big climb, and I started falling behind a little. Douglas's MCL started hurting from an old injury, so he dropped back too. I managed to catch back up to Anna, Eliza, and Cyrus, and then Eliza took some monster pulls at the front. She was just chugging along, steady and relentless, not too fast and not too slow.

This might have been the part of the race where we made the dumbest jokes, which also means it might have been one of the best parts. Everyone was pretty brain dead. We were just moving along this canyon floor by the river for what felt like forever, water starting to run low, jokes getting worse.

At some point something switched in my brain. I don't know if I would call it a second wind exactly. It was more like my brain went numb in a useful way, and the pressure of wanting to get to the end of the race quickly started to build. The jokes slowed down, the emotions got quieter, and I became very focused on the act of running itself. It felt good to move a little faster.

I pulled ahead a bit and Cyrus came with me. There was a little river crossing that broke my flow, and for some reason I got weirdly frustrated by it. Normally I don't care about stopping and starting on trails, but in that state, having to stop felt like an offense.

Thankfully the race organizers had left some water jugs before the next big climb. Eliza went to the bathroom, and Cyrus and I kept moving. We climbed and climbed, trying to jog when we could, passing people, worrying for a second that the few droplets we felt meant it was going to rain, but thankfully it never did.

By the time we got to Drivers Flat around mile 46, the vibes were different. I was not exactly destroyed, but I was somehow both spacey and hyper focused at the same time. Things were processing slower. I mostly just wanted to get what I needed and keep moving. I switched more heavily to SiS green apple gels because I had been drinking Skratch carb mix for nine or ten hours and the idea of more of it was starting to lose its appeal.

Douglas and Eliza came in shortly after us. Douglas got taped up at the med tent for his MCL. I remember being worried about him, but my brain was not really working well enough to hold onto much besides forward motion.

The Weird Good Part

I was worried about the sunset. Anna and Eliza took off, so I took off too. Then something very strange happened: I had this overwhelming urge to run fast. It was like the previous second wind, but significantly more intense. A hypnotic tunnel vision.

The trail after that crew stop was beautiful, flowy singletrack. Basically the exact trail you would choose if you wanted to run well. I put headphones on for the first time all race, put my phone on airplane mode and do not disturb, and started blasting music even though my battery was low.

I passed 103 people in 8 miles. I was running the hills. At one point I blasted up a little climb past a guy who was walking, and he just said, "Woah." That was very funny to me at the time.

It was the best I felt the entire race. Not just mentally. My legs themselves somehow stopped feeling bad. It almost felt like I had just started a normal run. I had this insane thought that I was about to drop one of my fastest half marathons ever.

Looking back, I checked Strava and saw that at best I was running around 9-minute miles. But after hours of 12- to 15-minute miles, that felt like 6-minute pace. I caught Cara and Meg and wanted to stay and chat, but the urge to keep moving was too strong, so I kept going.

Mammoth Bar

The descent into Mammoth Bar was ridiculous. Steep, slippery, and every step felt like someone was kicking me in the quad. It felt like my legs could give out at any second.

At the aid station I made the mistake of asking how much was left. My watch had me thinking maybe four or five miles. The volunteer said more than seven. In the context of a 100K that is not a huge difference, but in that moment it broke me a little. I wanted to get out of the aid station fast and keep going, but I had trouble running fast like I had been before.

The climb out of Mammoth Bar was not that big in normal terms, but it felt nasty then. I chatted with a local named Sabrina who had done the race before and lived in Auburn. She was giving me some advice about the rest of the course. I honestly do not remember how much of it I absorbed, but it was nice to have someone to talk to. I definitely missed running with my friends right then.

At that point my main goal was simple: get the goddamn race over with. Keep the legs moving. Jog when possible.

I made it to the last aid station with about three miles left, and it was getting dark. Then, out of nowhere, Douglas teleported behind me. Straight up appeared. The last time I had seen him, he was at the med tent getting his knee taped up, and now here he was, having apparently passed everyone in the dark like a maniac. He took off. I tried to keep up for a bit, but I was pretty destroyed. I think I had paid for that earlier good section.

The next ~2 miles were maybe the lowest point of the race for me. It was dark, I was mostly alone, and the trail felt endless. Every little section was hard to understand as part of the end. It felt like I was going to be running forever.

Then came this muddy, slippery, steep uphill around mile 60 or 61, which felt like a cruel joke. My legs barely worked on flat ground and now I was slipping uphill in the dark. At the top I saw glowing Hoka logos and thought, "Oh shit, that must be the end." It was not. It was just a Hoka ad or art thing in the middle of the pitch black singletrack.

Finally I made it back up onto the road. A guy passed me running, and I thought, if he is running, I am going to try to run with him. This ended up being one of the best decisions of the race because, shortly after, he offered to play harmonica for me.

I thought he was kidding. He was not. He pulled out a harmonica and started playing while we ran uphill. He told me he had been playing for people earlier at the Devil's Thumb out-and-back and that he had been drinking whiskey. He was local, and at one point we passed his house and he pointed it out. He knew every turn and little climb and descent coming up, and he kept pulling me along. With about 900 yards left, he sprinted away, and I let him go.

Finish

As I ran toward the finish line, I saw my friends and the crew cheering. Then I crossed it. I had finished the goddamn thing. My time was 15:46, almost two hours faster than the 17:30 finish I had planned around.

It was weirdly anticlimactic at first. My body was still stuck in fight-or-flight mode, and it took a minute for me to believe it was actually over. Then I started shivering. Mathilde and the crew had warm clothes ready for me, thankfully.

We waited for everyone else to come in. Anna finished only 14 minutes after me and had an incredible last stretch. Getting to share the whole experience with her was really special. We ate ice cold pizza and bean and cheese burritos and waited.

Max and Goober napping while waiting for others to finish — Max and Goober nap time after the race.

Cara and Meg came in. Then Eliza and Cyrus. It was great seeing everyone finish after sharing so many hours on the trail together. Lots of hugs and emotions. I felt extremely grateful for the crew giving their entire day to us.

Max and Eliza hugging after Canyons 100K — Max and Eliza hug time.

Group after finishing Canyons 100K — Finished.

Brandon was there at the finish too, absolute legend of a coach. I have been doing GGTC group programs since 2023, and this was easily the most I have ever learned and grown as an athlete in a single training block. It felt like a real step change in training quality and confidence. Having a coach who actually cares about each person's success, explains the science behind workouts, looks at the individual data, adjusts based on real life, answers questions, and then sacrifices a whole weekend to crew is pretty incredible. It makes me excited for what comes next, and I am not sure I could go back to my old way of training for races.

After

We had to leave before Luke finished, which I felt bad about. I had convinced him to sign up for the race while we were less than sober at a music festival the year before, and then he actually followed through and finished the thing, the night before his birthday no less. Thankfully Ahmed and Gaby were there for him at the end.

I was shivering and feeling sick and exhausted and really just wanted to be in bed. Mathilde drove me and Betsy to my car, and Betsy drove us home. Huge thanks to both of them.

In my delirious state, Betsy and I had a nice chat about our families, and I learned some new things about her. I am honestly amazed I was coherent enough to have a conversation at that point.

When we got back to the house, the regret of staying on the third floor set in immediately. The stairs were brutal. I took an unbelievable shower, shivered a bunch more, and climbed into bed. I struggled to sleep, potentially because I had consumed two 5-hour Energies during the race. The sleep was weird and fragmented, and it sounded like everyone else had a similar experience.

The next day was a painful blur. Eventually we made it home, and I celebrated properly with pizza, the couch, and a movie. Of course, almost immediately, I started thinking about the next race and the next big challenge. Kind of crazy how fast the mind goes there when the pain is still so fresh.

Recovering in Normatec boots the day after Canyons 100K — Day after race.

To the Group

One of my biggest fears when I was trying to get this group together was losing the sense of camaraderie I had gotten from big GGTC group programs like LDP. Running and endurance sports for me are as much about community and friendship as they are about getting a good workout in.

Thankfully, the exact opposite happened. I feel much closer to everyone than I did before. We made memories I will never forget, and lore was written that I will tell my kids and grandkids about.

I am incredibly grateful to everyone for taking a chance on something new and giving it their all. Selfishly, I am not sure the training or the race would have been possible for me without the group, or at least it would have been way, way tougher mentally. I would love to do this sort of thing again and see what else we can accomplish together. It is hard to get everyone's busy schedules to align around one race, but it would be so epic.

100 miler next year?

Mr Peanut resting after Canyons weekend — Mr Peanut.