We didn’t tell a soul about our plans to run the Zion Ultras 50k. It was April 2021 and we’d be running our first 50k in over a year. We wouldn’t have any spectators: no one would be watching us online. But we would be running again!
To race or not to race?
We had been extraordinarily cautious throughout the pandemic. Since the beginning, we’d managed to avoid exposing ourselves or our family members to any unnecessary risk. But after a year of not racing, like so many others, we were itching to get out there again. We even went so far as to plan a two week camping trip afterwards as a precaution. We’d stay away from home and monitor for symptoms, while playing exclusively outside and away from others.
In the grand tradition of our Vacation Races registrations, we did not sign up in advance. Much like at Antelope Canyons the year before, we spotted this race just a few weeks out from the event date and had to nab tickets off the black market at a markup. But for a race as good-looking as Zion Ultras, we knew it would be worth it!
Our previous visit to the Southwest had gotten us pretty stoked on the red splendor that is Zion National Park. We were eager for an opportunity to return.
And we were eager to return to distance running too! In addition to not racing, we had capped our running for the past half year when we decided to focus on strength training. Signing up for a race meant diving back into training, weekend long runs and all of those wonderful routines near and dear to the ultra runner. Zion Ultras, in many ways, would bring us back.
So why not share the excitement? Well, we were still worried about the pandemic and our responsibilities to vulnerable family members. Perhaps we were also nervous about the race itself and what it would be like getting back out there after an extended off period. In classic KnC fashion, we’d also built it out into a trip – and I’ll be honest with you, early 2021 did not feel like the kind of social milieu in which to be sharing one’s good fortune as relates to travel!
On a deeper level, I was struggling with guilt and trauma. I don’t think I wanted to tell anyone what we were doing next until it was certain, after several spectacular fails (I’m looking at you Fiji and Saudi). My guilt was over my ability to travel within the US – and my inability to make it across the border to Canada. I desperately wanted a race on my schedule, but I also needed to hold Zion Ultras close to my chest at the time.
Two days before the race, we were at a farm stay in northern Arizona preparing to return to racing. Normal pre-race nerves vied with a heightened sense of pandemic unease. Was racing safe? we wondered. The only way to find out was to get back out there and do it.
Return to racing at the Zion Ultras 50k
Risky or not, there was never any question about us toeing the line at this race. Toe we did, early on a sunny April Sunday! Even simply checking in the day before was exhilarating: those trail race vibes! I live for those, and my worries dissipated as I embraced the moment.
If I needed even more reassurance that I was in the right place, I had only to look at my bib. I have a knack for nabbing super lucky bib numbers, and at the Zion Ultras, I somehow landed 1234! It really is the small things in life.
Possibly to assuage the worries of pandemic runners like me, Zion Ultras 50k had a rolling start time. Runners could begin any time between 6:00 and 6:30 am. I had thought Kent and I would be first across the line with excitement, but as it turned out, parking, using the loo and other chores occupied us until about 6:15. Setting off just with a handful of other runners, this was one of the most relaxed race starts I think we’ve ever experienced! It felt like we were just setting off on a casual fun run.
Dawn was breaking over the desert as we zipped down a stretch of road toward our first mesa loop. We tried in vain to photograph the splendor of the big, orange open sky. The snapshots are mediocre, but the feeling was spectacular!
The 50k course started with a gentle downhill, which was wonderful for warming up. Gravel underfoot, the going was easy. But one slightly humorous element was that we were not alone! There were runners and mountain bikers and 4WD vehicles all on the same track. I even saw someone rollerblading!
After a short jaunt downward, we sped through the first aid station and began on the Grafton Mesa loop. Here was runnable single-track through a tangle of desert plants! Sometimes we wound deep into dense brush, and at other points we popped out at tremendous viewpoints. The rising sun was illuminating more and more of the surroundings, and it was a wonderful time to be running!
I confess I did feel stressed when other runners ran hot on our heels. When we ran up on someone, I’d try to pass with a wide berth. I’m not sure if you guys remember this, but early in the pandemic there were reports of athletes leaving a long trails of virus particles in the air. I’m sensitive to tailgating already, and I definitely felt my anxiety rise at times when we were surrounded by strangers, all breathing the same air.
But luckily, those moments were few and far between. The speedsters and eventual race winners had shot ahead, and there was a cohort of hikers far behind. Those of us in the midpack soon found our individual paces and spread out over the race course.
Our counterclockwise loop of Grafton Mesa involved an initial descent, followed by a gradual climb. We accidentally wandered off trail once or twice, but still managed to complete this first loop in just over an hour. This time, we did stop at the check point. Or I did. I plunged into the fray, buff over my mouth and nose. I handed off a cup of coke to Kent and stood out of the way to drink my own.
This was another slightly nerve-wracking situation for me, but I wasn’t going to let it derail my nutrition plan. In hot races especially, I rely on Dr. Coke to keep my stomach bubbling!
After a quick climb up the wide dirt road we’d recently run down, we were approaching the start/finish area again. Now there were so many spectators lining the road! Unlike the aid station scrum, these crowds were less alarming to me. For one thing, they were off to either side of the road in small family groups, and for another, they were holding hilarious signs. Their whoops and hollers energized me like they always have.
Just shy of the finish line, we took a sharp right and began to climb uphill on a dirt track. Destination: Gooseberry Mesa!
Gooseberry Mesa is the definitive highlight of the Zion Ultras 50k course. Once the plateau is reached, dramatic vistas abound. It was a long, hot climb to the top, but boy, it was worth it!
We ran along the north edge first. The race course was on bike and 4×4 tracks that were often slightly inland of the mesa’s edge, but would cut over to the drop-off at times, giving us breathtaking views across a vast plain and into Zion National Park!
Prior to the start, I’d had the ambitious goal of running our fastest ever 50k time. After all, the elevation gain would be less that what we were accustomed to in many of our Asian races. But here in the desert, we were faced by dual challenges. The mounting heat was one – and the other was the temptation to stop and admire the scenery!
It was truly sublime! We’d never done any running like this. The mesas of the southwest are uniquely perfect desert viewing platforms, and we gave in to temptation to stop at most of the viewpoints.
Perhaps the most magical of these viewpoints was at the far west of our Gooseberry loop! A little out-and-back led to a thrilling cliff edge: this time, with views of another neighboring mesa!
Interestingly, here we had to punch a hole in our bibs to prove that we’d done the out-and-back portion. We would have missed this entirely if it wasn’t for the crowd of assembled runners passing around a hole puncher. Vacation Races runs such high-quality, professional races, that we were slightly surprised by this DIY touch. But we waited our turn for the tool, then reluctantly left this splendid scenic overlook!
The north side views from Gooseberry Mesa had been incredible. But the south side views were possibly even better! The trail hugged the cliff’s edge, with views for days. A network of other mesas lined the horizon as we leapt over cracks and dared to peep over the plunging drop-off to our right. A truly incredible race route!
We turned away from the edge reluctantly, following the path that would lead us to our next aid station. It might have been an opportunity to concentrate on speed, but scrambling over the slickrock in the heat quickly left us feeling depleted and eager for fluids. But the aid station failed to appear.
We were still in high spirits from the epic views, but others around us were beginning to falter. We were not the only ones running dry! Runs slowed to jogs and later became walks as our collective thirst intensified. There was a good 20 minute discussion about where the aid station might be as we made slow progress across the mesa.
Finally, we found it! Sharing the struggles of our cohort had made me slightly less skittish of other humans, so I approached the check point for both liquid and food. After a cup of coke and a much-needed water refill, I eyed the options. A volunteer was scooping potatoes from a big steel pot into paper cups. That seemed just the ticket!
What followed was one of the weirdest sensory experiences of my life. When I tried to pick up my potato, I found I couldn’t handle my selected snack. “It’s too hot,” I burst out. Volunteers on the other side of the table looked at me askance. I blew on my scalded fingertips and tried again. But I couldn’t touch it. “The potatoes are cold, honey,” someone informed me. Could that really be true? I ran my potato over to Kent. Sure enough, he confirmed it was chilled. Just for a moment, I felt slightly hysterical: was I broken? My sense of temperature was definitely out of order!
I couldn’t eat my potato, but I was otherwise fine. In fact, I was better than fine: I’d been feeling fantastic the whole race! Gooseberry Aid was our last stop up top. So with fluids fully reloaded, we confidently left the check point and hit the sunny road back for our descent trip.
We blazed downward, taking turns in the lead. It did not take long before we encountered the cheering spectators once more. Turning the hairpin corner toward the finish line, Kent and I joined hands and zipped across. Our return to racing at the Zion Ultras 50k was a success!
Although this was not quite a personal best for the 50k distance, we were pleased with our performance. We’d covered the distance in seven and a quarter hours, finishing in the top 100 of nearly 600 participants. It was a statistical win, but also a personal one: we’d explored some spectacular new scenery and reminded ourselves of our love for our favorite sport.
Afterward
It was probably only natural that we had lingering nerves over our decision to run this race. Kent and I both felt a little raspy and dehydrated in the following days, and our minds instantly went to worst case scenarios. Covid casts a long specter, and our delight over our return to racing was definitely tempered with concerns that we’d been incautious.
But we did not catch covid from the race, and in retrospect, all of those fears seem slightly silly. My 2022 self can’t help but think: what a waste of energy! The event was entirely outdoors, and we didn’t spend long intervals speaking to anyone. We hadn’t really taken a big risk, but it was hard to assess, then.
Worries aside, our big takeaway from Zion Ultras 50k was about just how much strength training had helped us. We did not train properly for a desert event: our runs around damp, chilly Humboldt county definitely did not prepare us for the heat and exposure of this race! We had done a little build and taper over the month prior, but nothing focused. Yet we both felt amazing during and after the event. We climbed strong, descended swiftly and recovered quickly.
We felt in tip top shape, because we were. Although we hadn’t been running as often as much as in previous years, we were still extremely focused on fitness. The strength regimen I’d had us subscribed to had wrought gains, both physical and intangible. We were stronger, and it was nice to test out our muscles on the Zion Ultras 50k course. It was irrefutable proof to us that strength training and ultra trail running can cohabit and be happy doing so.
Our post-race recovery consisted of a day of games and animal hangouts at the farm. Then we were off on our Utah National Parks quest! And those are stories I’ll save for another time.
But should you run this race? Absolutely! Ours was the 10th running of the Zion Ultras in 2021, so this is a well-established ultra event. It’s professionally put on by the great team at Vacation Races, so you can expect great snacks and cool drinks at the aid stations, as well as friendly folks to help you out. And of course the very best bit is the race course! The scenery is second to none! Go run Gooseberry and see for yourself!