300 Miles in Seven Days: Bailing from the Arizona Trail

It is November 28 and I am sitting on the couch, foot elevated, nursing a suspected stress fracture in my shin.

According to Strava I logged 49 running miles in September and 56 miles in October which translates to a measly 12-14 miles per week. To make those statistics even bleaker, my 56 Strava miles in October included my 20-hour solo speed record on the Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim alt which in and of itself accounted for a little over 40 (injury-free) miles. So, taking out the R2R2R-alt, the story is pretty clear: I have not been running much.

Where did the stress fracture come from, then? The story goes like this… I wasn’t really running in October, or September, or most of the year, and then decided that it’d be fun to try for a speed record on the 800-mile Arizona Trail.

The current Fastest Known Time (FKT) was set by Helen Galerakis in 2019 at 17 days and 11 hours, a time that translates to just slightly slower than 50 miles a day. That was my mark to beat. Trying for a 2-week, 50-miles-a-day speed record with minimal to no specific training? What could possibly go wrong. I’m being facetious of course: I have enough experience to know that there are many things that could and likely will go wrong, and yet I decide to go for it.

Day 1 | Mile 0

At 6:30am on November 18 I touch the monument at the northern terminus of the Arizona Trail, just about an hour from where I live in Southern Utah, and start running. My plan is ambitious: I want to average 51-52 miles per day to finish the entirety of the trail in 15 to 16 days.

Day one goes swimmingly - I may not have been training for ultras recently, but I spend a lot of time on my feet and am deeply familiar with extreme endurance efforts. I complete the first 49.5 miles of the Arizona Trail with 4000 feet of climbing in just over 14 hours, and feel great at the end of it. My reward: eight hours of solid sleep in our van with my husband Paul and Dasher the husky. One day done, 49.5 miles down. Structural integrity: A. Energy level: A.

Day 2 | Mile 49.5

The alarm on Day 2 comes early, and while Paul makes me breakfast I am mentally readying myself for what is bound to be a hard day: 55 miles from here to Tusayan, which means I have to cross the Grand Canyon. This is also my second big, long day in a row, and it’s where I am mentally expecting for the rubber to meet the road. I am moderating my pace and closely watching for any signs of overuse in my feet, knees, hips and legs. I am delighted to find that I feel strong and healthy, even while having to battle through an unexpected snow storm: contrary to the weather forecast, which predicted improving weather today vis-a-vis the prior blustery day, I am spending the first 26 miles of the day putting first tracks down in a nasty blizzard with up to 4” of snow accumulation while crossing the Kaibab Plateau at an elevation of around 9,000ft above sea level. I may not be fast on this second day on the Arizona Trail, but I still make it to my crew intercept in Tusayan by 1:15am, after 55 miles and more than 12,000ft of vertical change. Contrary to my own expectations I feel energized, excited, strong, and motivated to push on. Two days done, 104.8 miles down. Structural integrity: A. Energy level: B+.

Day 3 | Mile 104.8

And so the story continues. In my mind I am now home free: since I was able to avoid injury going through the Grand Canyon, surely I must now be getting stronger and will be able to keep chipping away at the Arizona Trail at record speed. Then my energy levels and pace dip on Day 3 despite easier conditions and terrain, but in some ways that’s to be expected after those first 100+ miles across the Kaibab and the Grand Canyon - and I still manage to put down 52 miles for the day, reaching camp sometime around one o’clock in the morning. Three days done, 156.4 miles down. Structural integrity: A. Energy level: B-.

*Bonk correction exercise on Day 3 - this 20 minute post-lunch power nap worked wonders (they always do).*

Day 4 | Mile 156.4

On Day 4 I decide to allow myself a “short” 33 mile day to catch up on sleep and give my energy levels a chance to restore themselves. It’s somewhere on this shorter day that my troubles start. In addition to power hiking long stretches I am still jogging here and there, yet by the time I meet my crew intercept at 8pm I feel shin pain on most downhill sections. I have had encounters with overuse issues in the past - IT band problems, bum ankles, Morton’s Neuroma, you name it - yet this is a new-to-me sort of pain. Not having experienced this particular issue before my first thought is ‘shin splints’. A bit of googling quickly suggests that these are not shin splints, yet I still ask my crew to help me tape the leg for shin splints; a bad idea that quickly makes things worse. Next hypothesis: peroneal tendonitis. “Pain above the ankle” - that checks out. Six days done, 189.1 miles down. Structural integrity: B. Energy level: A-.

Day 5 | Mile 189.1

After a good night’s rest in Flagstaff I get back on the trail more or less on time and put down the 47 miles that were on the docket for this day. Despite easy terrain and perfect conditions my pace is slowing, and not because of lacking fitness but because of a leg that simply won’t work the way I want it to - even though my crew and I have pulled out all the stops: taping, NSAIDs, acetaminophen, supplemented by massage and compression at rest. I am in pain limping into camp long after 2am. Five days done, 237.7 miles down. Structural integrity: C. Energy level: B.

Day 6 | Mile 237.7

At daybreak of Day 6, Thanksgiving Day, I grudgingly wake up after a short four hours of sleep. Simply getting off my cot and limping over to a nearby tree to use a cat hole is a challenge, and yet I go through the motions of getting ready for the day’s miles - thanks to my all-star crew, without whom I’d have no chance.

Crew gallery - thanks everyone for your help!!

*Enjoying horizontal time after Paul’s suggestion to take a zero day.*

I set out on the trail at 8:25am and almost immediately call home to my husband Paul who is back at work in Southern Utah. I have gotten into the habit of chatting with Paul multiple times each day as cell signal allows, sharing progress updates and strategy adjustments or simply asking for a few words of encouragement to help keep my spirits up. This morning I tell him that I am planning to stretch out today’s 57 mile-day into two days, to allow for more good rest and a chance for my shin to improve with lower mileage. My brain is in trail mode and not willing to comprehend that two almost-30-mile days can’t be considered restful by any stretch of the imagination. Paul on the other hand detects the flaw in my logic right away; he tells me to turn around and take a zero day today, with the hope of getting ahead of my issues and putting down the full 57 miles the next day. After a minute of thinking through the implications of this idea I gladly agree and promptly return to camp some ten minutes away. Six days done, 237.7 miles down. Structural integrity: B-. Energy level: A-.

Day 7 | Mile 237.7 encore

Day 7 - I know that today is a litmus test. I now need to cover 57 miles to reach the day’s goal and then execute the rest of the trail flawlessly averaging 50+ miles a day, to still have a chance at the speed record. After a full day rest I hit the trail at 4:30am, wanting to allow myself plenty of time for the day’s mileage. To turn a very long day into few words: I manage to complete my mileage goal but don’t reach that evening’s crew intercept point until almost 2:30am. 22 hours for 57 easy miles - that does not bode well. To make things worse, I have been trudging through another snow storm… and as I lose elevation for the last few miles of the day, the moisture is turning the trail into unbearable mud that incessantly accumulates on my shoes to the tune of several pounds per foot. Where my shin issues felt somewhat manageable for most of the day relying on tape and ibuprofen, the mud clumps in the final three hours of the night turn the pain level up by about 300% and make me question my life choices. Seven days done, 294.0 miles down. Structural integrity: C-. Energy level: B+.

Day 8 | Mile 294

Day 8 is a “short” 44 miles to Pine. I am still not willing to admit defeat, and am grasping for straws hoping that I can manage my shin well enough to allow for steady progress at moderate speeds. Thanks to my crew I now have a beefy ankle brace that promises some relief - here’s a prime example of trail brain at work: why shouldn’t you be able to fix shin pain with an ankle brace! I set out on the trail shortly after 7am and, to my surprise, make reasonably quick work of the initial five miles to my first crew intercept of the day. The next five miles to another crew intercept also go reasonably well. My spirits are lifting: my injury management strategy is working.

Left foot: as intended. Right foot, grasping for straws.

Next comes a thirteen mile section to yet another crew intercept. I am caught off guard by a relatively steep climb, something that I haven’t had much of since climbing out of the Grand Canyon on the evening of Day 2. Following the steep climb is a gentle descent which does not feel great on my shin. Following the gentle descent is a steep descent into a deep ravine cut by East Clear Creek, and it is this descent that drives home to me that I have met my match. Even though I am using my trekking poles as crutches and limp down the hill at a snail’s pace, I am fighting back tears of pain and more than once can’t suppress a yell when I hit a bigger step-down. I know what this means: the gentle topography of the Arizona Trail’s northern part is over, and whatever my injury is - it is too severe for me to legitimately consider pushing into the rugged southern part of the trail with its many steep descents.

*The straw (descent) that broke the camel’s back for this go-around.*

If that in and of itself wasn’t reason enough for me to admit defeat, or the fact that I am starting to genuinely worry about doing permanent damage, my pace has now slowed to less than 2 miles per hour which means I would have to be moving non-stop for 25 hours each day to hit the mileage required for the speed record that I am chasing. It doesn’t take a Harvard MBA to know those numbers simply do not work.

I share my predicament with Paul (who has since driven down from Southern Utah to provide in-person support) and let him know via GPS communicator that I think I’m done. In best crew chief fashion he encourages me to continue on, but quickly understands just how bad things are - and rather than making me finish the 13 mile stretch to the next planned intercept, he finds a vehicle access spot only some two miles or so down trail from me, saving me the need to suffer through an almost 3000 foot descent off the Mogollon Rim to link up with my crew. I rendezvous with Paul, Tana and Mel shortly after 2pm and while I’m not officially calling off the attempt just yet (because: principles!), I know in my heart that I am done - for this go around anyway. 7.5 days done, 309.2 miles down. Structural integrity: F. Energy level: A-.

*Mile 309.2 - still in good spirits and with ample energy reserves, but too much pain to continue on.*

So what are my lessons learned? There are many. You’ll be able to find a blog post about them over at lowaboots.com soon. (l will share the link here once it becomes available). In the meantime, thanks for reading!