Ultra-athletes love their various sports, while the rest of us might think they are nuts, or at least self-abusive.
This past April, ultra running came to Patagonia, as a first-time event called the Monster 300. It was a new, 308-mile course hosted by Destination Trail, an experienced long-distance run promoter.
“Ultra running” is a term for any running event longer than the standard marathon distance of 26.2 miles. Mutual support is a pillar of the ultra-running culture. A Monster 300 crew member described the difference this way: “If you’re racing in a marathon on paved roads and fall, they’ll just jump over you, but if you’re in an ultra race, they’ll stop and pick you up.”
For the Monster 300, 283 runners, representing 21 countries, converged at the start line in Superior, AZ on April 4. The finish line was on Harshaw Rd. in Patagonia. There were 55 women and 224 men, a track official and three sweepers. The sweepers’ job is to follow the last runner in a race to ensure their safety and to clean up the course. Sweepers may also provide assistance to injured runners and ensure no one is left on the course alone. (The general ethic of the run is to leave no trace, but one runner I talked to said she was disappointed to see wrappers and small containers clearly dropped by runners, debris she called “runner rubbish.”)
206 runners made it to Patagonia, for a completion rate of about 73%. That was much higher than expected, said organizer Candace Burt, “since we knew the course was going to be tough.”
The course ranged from a low point at 2,790 ft along the Gila River,to a high point in the Catalina Mountains near Summerhaven on Mt. Lemmon at about 8,200 ft. The total elevation gain was 27,747 ft., with the largest single climb being up the north side of Mt. Lemmon. The route stayed on single-track trails for 84% of its distance, mostly on parts of the Arizona Trail (AZT).
The course left the AZT at Mt. Lemmon, coming down along Tucson’s foothills via Oro Valley and some of Tucson’s paved perimeter trails, then rejoined the AZT east of Vail for the remainder. Arizona Trails Executive Director Matt Nelson, who worked on planning the course with the organizers, explained that the departure was necessary because land management agencies like the Catalina District of the Coronado National Forest prohibit mass events in National Parks, Wilderness Areas and in selected Endangered Species habitat.
The Monster 300 was fully supported by an experienced staff, mostly runners themselves, who know exactly what runners feel and need. The support crew set up, supplied and staffed 19 aid stations, strategically placed 15-20 miles apart on the course. Besides beverages, food, water and first aid, they supplied cots and blankets. Runners could arrange for “drop bags” of personal items to be at an aid station when they get there. There also was an informal system of “pacers,” experienced but unregistered runners who could join a racer in later phases to give emotional support and stability. Yet another form of support happened at the finish line, where Sonoita licensed massage therapist Caitlyn Coleman was available for chair massages.
Runners were required to show a connection to a digital navigation device, either watch or cellphone, to avoid chances of them going off trail.
One runner explained that sometimes if runners are ahead of you at night, the position of their lights in all that dark space gives you a clue about the coming terrain, which is helpful to prevent disorientation. Night running is the easiest time to miss a turn, and runners said that it’s also the easiest time to hallucinate. Another spoke about experiencing a “headlight,” a little dome of light he’d glimpse on his left side. One night, mid-run, “the headlight became an entire milky white car,” he said, “hubcaps and all.”
The first runner to the finish line was Peter Mortimer, a 43-year-old devoted endurance runner from Flagstaff. He arrived at 4:33am on Tuesday April 8, with a total time on course of 86 hours and 33 minutes, averaging 83.7 miles per day. The rest of the finishers came in over the following three days.
Runners shared stories of encountering one’s limits along the course. Tandi Sherlock, from Prescott, met her limit on Mt. Lemmon, just short of the summit. She said that, from the start, she’d felt her father would be “with me from above” but near the top of Mt. Lemmon, she got to an unexpected steep cliff, where a misstep could end very badly. Just at that moment, Sherlock said, her dad clearly told her she could make it, and she did.
After the start, Shannon Ellis, a runner from Ann Arbor, had dropped down to the Gila River, climbed steeply out, ran through the night and was doing pretty well for the first 26 hours, until she started feeling her digestion wasn’t working. In conversation later, she said, “You get a weird feeling of pain in your gut, and wonder ‘Does this mean I stop to rest, or is it something I can push past?’” She stopped to rest at an aid station, very reluctantly concluding she needed to become a DNF (Did Not Finish). It seemed like small consolation that she’d already accomplished over 9,000 feet of elevation gain over 76 miles. She left Patagonia saying she plans a couple more long runs before her 50th birthday later in the year.
A runner on the support crew was Catra Corbett, pink-haired and sun-bronzed, who dresses in vivid prints and flowers and has a dozen or more piercings and lots of ink. No one can miss her flamboyance on the trail, and at the same time, her presence in camp was quiet and friendly. She too had had an unexpected DNF experience early in the run, and simply shifted from runner to support crew.
Corbett is a self-made beacon of positivity, having half a lifetime ago been a go-go dancer and user and dealer of meth. Caught for dealing, a night in jail was the luminous moment that pivoted her life into a wild, healthy, drug-free outdoor direction as an ultra-runner. Active on social media, she is experiencing success with “Reborn on the Run,” her book about her adventures in extreme living. Asked in a recent n online interview how many marathons she’s run, Corbett answered, “Oh, I’ve only run about 40 of them, but ultramarathons, I’ve run about 340 of them, from 50k to 240 miles, but 156 of them have been a hundred miles or more. My favorite distance is the two-hundred miler.” She’ll be 60 this year.
The camaraderie and sense of support surrounding the event continued to the very last runner, Carolyn Cunha, of Bozeman, MT, whose arrival was celebrated by loud cheering and cowbells, a “tunnel of arms” and lots of hugs at the Mt. Wrightson-framing finish arch. Pulling in a couple hours before the Monster 300’s official cutoff time, Cunha, looking surprisingly un-wasted, calmly smiled amidst lots of hugs. At that moment she became the only runner in a special finisher category called DFL: Dead F-ing Last.
Donations from the event benefited the Arizona Trail Association, Patagonia Youth Enrichment Center and the local food bank.