Canyons 100K
Leaning into competitive races and where there's room for growth
My favorite time to write is in the early morning, preferably when it’s dark outside and the rest of the house is still sleeping. That’s basically impossible at home, because as soon as I get up at least two dogs are eager to also get up, thanks to the promise of breakfast, and once the dogs are up, the cats start meowing for their food. At that point Nick is awake, and so we might as well feed the rabbits and guinea pigs, and once they hear Stackalee’s guinea pig squeaks, then the rats begin moving about their cages, also ready to eat.
The only one who loves to sleep in is Cashew, which makes him an excellent travel companion.
This morning, Cashew is laying in bed at our Airbnb, still curled up and occasionally groaning with fatigue after a day of following Nick from aid station to aid station while crewing me for Canyons 100K.
Yesterday I finished 9th woman in 11 hours flat at the last of the golden ticket races. My dad, who watched the livestream, says that if he ever hears the words “golden ticket” again, he’ll tell the announcers to “shove it up their tuchus” and so I won’t spend any time explaining what that is and instead direct you to this page if you’d like to read more about golden tickets.
My goal at this race wasn’t to score a golden ticket, mostly because I don’t currently want to run Western States this year and that’s especially true after running the final 62 miles of the course during yesterday’s race. But, I still wanted to run against a highly competitive field and do as well as I could, wherever that landed me. At least, that was my goal at the start. In the days leading up to my race, I’d actually mentioned to my therapist that finishing in the top 10 would be a stellar result for me in a field like this, but top 15-20 would be a placement I’d also be content with.
I didn’t get off the waitlist until April 1st, so the race wasn’t in my sights long before it was time to begin tapering. I was able to get back to training quickly following Chuckanut 50K, and so I knew that I could physically be ready for the event in time.
On Thursday, Nick and I drove to Auburn, spent the following day taking pictures of wildflowers at a nearby regional park and finished up programming our clients and answering work emails. We’d booked an Airbnb about 15 minutes outside of town which meant we could avoid the hype of the event, driving into town on Friday just to pick up my race bib. We spent the remainder of the day reading and and hanging out with Cashew.
At 5 a.m., the race began from the China Wall Trailhead, about 60 miles east of Auburn. The point-to-point made for an early morning, and we’d set our alarms for 2:45 a.m. in order to be ready on time. The start was cold, just above freezing, and I reluctantly removed my sweater and puffy jacket, sticking them into the start drop bag before squeezing my way into the mass of runners. I secured my pack, which I was annoyed about having to carry. UTMB races are notorious for having lengthy gear requirements and while this one wasn’t terrible, I prefer being very minimal so having to wear a vest, have the ability to carry 1L of water, a reusable cup, a tracking device as an elite runner, a jacket and my headlamp with back-up batteries the entire duration was not my first choice. But, everyone else was obligated to do the same so I’d make it work.
I had been assigned as an elite runner at the race, so was obligated to pick up the tracking device at the start. This would allow friends and family (and race officials) to track the movements of the top runners but it required clear visibility and couldn’t be placed into a pouch or pocket. The volunteer Velcroed it to the top of my pack, directly on my shoulder bone.
Not surprisingly, the race started fast. I clocked a 6:44 mile, and I was probably back in 20th place for women. The faster early miles felt good, though—I was freezing in nothing more than a crop top, a pair of shorts and, thank goodness, gloves —and I was hoping I’d warm up fast. It had rained the day before and the ground was still saturated with large puddles most runners attempted to dodge. Once the route pushed us onto singletrack trails with steep descents, the mud got bad and runners cursed as they slipped. I took it easier here, hoping to have a strong finish and not wanting to damage my quads by taking early descents at too hot of a pace. Luckily, this matched my overall mood, which was relaxed and patient. There were so many miles to go, and I wanted to stay as present as I could.
After the first steep descent, we switchbacked up a trail lined with poison oak. After my experience with a rash bad enough to require urgent care back in January, I was reluctant to brush past any part of the plant. After a mile of trying to avoid it, I gave up—if I wanted to run, and run fast, it was inevitable that my legs, arms, stomach and hands would come into contact with it throughout the race.
I found myself behind Altra athlete Amanda Basham for the first third of the race, and I followed her lead as she took the descents fast but not hard and jogged the climbs; the steepest parts we hiked. Even during the race, I found myself thinking about how incredible it is that I once thought these women were so far above anything I could ever do—and now, after years of training, I was racing them.
My nutrition plan from the start was to aim for roughly 90 grams of carbs per hour, an amount that felt comfortable during the long runs I’d done leading up to the race. This made fueling easy—I simply had to take in one 90g Precision Fuel gel each hour, which I usually did by dividing it into halves or thirds every 20 or 30 minutes. For the first 50K, I carried a handheld, my second flask stuffed into the back of my pack.
The first 10 miles or so of the race are punchy, with steep climbs and descents, eventually dropping runners into Deadwood and then, after that, Devil’s Thumb. Since we’d circle back to these same aid stations with two out-and-back sections, this allowed me to gauge where I was in the race. I didn’t want to give it too much thought and could tell that eventual winner Katie Schide was having a heck of a day—way out in front already. I counted as women went by me in the opposite direction and figured I was somewhere around 15th or 16th place. This was a good place to be early on, I thought, though took advantage of the climb back up where we’d come from to pass a few women, already breathing hard and fast, on the ascent. I was still right behind Amanda.
I noticed that while my body felt good, I didn’t have the drive I typically do to be competitive. I don’t find it hard to give my best, but to push past what I think is my best and match other runners wasn’t there (I’ll get to this later!).
Around mile 20, Amanda started hiking up a switchback and I took this opportunity to pass her and continue running. I felt decent, and knew I should take advantage of this as that likely wouldn’t be the case for the rest of the race.
At mile 24, I came into the first crew-accessible aid station, Michigan Bluff. Nick was there waiting for me, along with Cashew who sat patiently beside the array that had been spread out. I kept it simple, exchanging the three gels I’d taken in (plus one at the start) for two new ones, along with a new handheld. Another competitive female, Shea Aquilano, was just behind me, and I ran out of the aid station, hoping to hold her off. These next few miles were good and runnable with a fire road that gently climbed before dropping back into singletrack. The wildflowers through these next sections were glorious, and if there’s one disappointment I have it’s that races don’t allow for time to take photos of flowers. There were at least a dozen I’d never seen before and they leaned over the trail in bright blues and yellows and reds. I wanted to be able to later identify them.
I ran the six miles from Michigan Bluff to Foresthill feeling good, but my feet were not in great shape. I knew immediately that I’d be changing my shoes at mile 30 in order to avoid whatever was beginning to happen on my toes and bottoms of my feet. They pads of my feet burned and my toes felt bruised.
I came into Foresthill at 5 hours, 10 minutes—maybe 10-15 minutes off of the pack behind Katie Schide and EmKay Sullivan who’d gained a good lead already. I didn’t know this at the time, of course, and had explicitly asked Nick not to tell me where I was in the race; I wanted to focus on doing the best I could, especially in a high stakes/highly competitive race like this. Plus, we’d already climbed nearly 8,000 feet with several thousand feet more to go. There was a lot that could happen.
Nick had again laid out a spread of things I might need here, and next to him, cheering me into the aid station, was my coach, Megan Roche, and her husband, David. In the seven years I’ve been coached by Megan, I’ve never had the opportunity to be crewed by her so my spirits were immediately boosted. But, this was still a race and I knew coming in that I wanted to change my shoes and refuel so there wasn’t time socialize. I sat on the ground, pulling off my shoes and socks, and took in half a gel for some extra calories as Nick swapped me out for more cushioned socks and a new pair of shoes. Then, I was standing back up, grabbing a handful of salty chips, and already on my way back out.
With fresh shoes and socks, my feet felt ten times better and I found myself passing a few male runners as the trail leveled out. We were still climbing and descending, but the pitches had lessened, and once again I was brushing past wildflowers and hopping over streams. The day was heating up, and while 70F doesn’t sound like much, it feels very different when running between canyon walls in full sunlight. I had begun to ask volunteers to dump water on my head at aid stations which was helping me stay cool.
The sections from Foresthill to Cal 2 and then again from Cal 2 to Drivers Flat were long—8.3 miles with 2300 feet of loss and 9.2 miles with 1800 feet of gain. They were also very quiet as I found myself almost entirely alone, save for Marta Wenta, a Polish woman who passed me blazingly fast. My toes had begun to hurt again, particularly on the downhills, but I kept on fueling and kept on running, choosing instead to focus on the wide American River to my left and the various butterflies that gathered around the streams. At certain points I had to slow down to avoid stepping on them.
Around hour 8, I realized that this was some of the quietest racing I’ve done. Outside of aid stations, no one spoke around me and I’ve certainly found the more competitive the race, the less runners talk. I get it, though—we’re here to race! I’d wanted to wait until the final aid station to listen to any music so I was just alone with my thoughts, not knowing where I was in the field, but content to just keep pushing on. I didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel bad, either, and after running more than 50 ultras, I know that things can change. And they did.
At mile 46, I found my legs coming to life and the competitive fire heating up and I ran the steep fire road into Drivers Flat at mile 47.5, the final crew-accessible aid station.
Once again, I knew that I needed to change my shoes, this time forgoing trail shoes entirely and opting for road shoes—Topo Specters, to be precise—for the remaining miles. Nick repacked my race vest while I stuffed in pretzels, relieved to have something solid in my stomach. My digestion had been great throughout the race, but I was eager to eat something after more than 8 hours of running. After handing me my Aftershokz to listen to music and dumping ice-cold water on my head to cool me off, I was out.
Shea had once again come in a few minutes behind me, and I’d heard the cheers of her crew welcoming her into the aid station just as I was getting ready to leave. While I still didn’t know (nor did I want to know) where I was in the field, I didn’t want to be passed and only planned on trying to pass other runners from here on out. So, I put on my music and ran. The new shoes helped me feel like a different runner and the next few miles were some of my fastest of the entire race, despite being 50+ miles in. Within half a mile I had passed Nike Trail athlete Addie Bracy and then a couple miles after that, Mary Denholm and Steph Auston. I was counting down the miles to the finish now, but with seven or eight miles still to go, I knew I had to keep eating and drinking.
At this point in the race, I had already stopped to pee close to ten times, which is abnormal for me. Cold starts can be one cause (and with a starting temperature of just above freezing, that made sense) but I likely wasn’t absorbing much of what I had been drinking as my hydration seemed to be going straight through me. This serves as a good reminder to rethink my electrolyte intake for the next race and double down on what I use.
At mile 55.5 at Mammoth Bar, I refilled a handheld and had a volunteer stuff another one into my pack before grabbing another handful of chips to go. Half a mile out, I spotted a male runner and then, just ahead, fellow Canadian Arden Young! I met Arden last summer while on Team Canada together at the World Trail and Mountain Running Championships (you can read about that here, if you’re interested) and I was excited to see her out on course. She was struggling with stomach issues so we exchanged a few words of encouragement and I continued running past her and up the next climb. The hay was almost in the barn now and I was eager to get to the finish.
After popping out of the forest and onto the road, I came across the final aid station at mile 59.1 and was briefly disappointed to hear a volunteer yell out that I had 4 miles left to the finish. That wasn’t a 100K…that was like a 102K…but it was what it was and all of the other runners were dealing with the same thing. It was just one extra mile. I could handle it.
This final section was a contrast to the previous 59 miles as we were routed onto the busy Western States Trail and had to dodge pedestrians out for an afternoon stroll. As I approached Robie Point, I was delighted to see Gordy Ainsleigh, the originator of Western States, powering up a hill. At 76, he was finishing the Canyons 50K, which had begun a few hours after the 100K.
As the trail turned to road and the road led up to one last, challenging hill, I began to imagine the finish. I was almost done! Not knowing if any other women were close, I ran as fast as I could up the hill, to the crest, and back down into downtown Auburn. Finally, there was the finish and just on the other side, Nick and Megan and Cashew waiting for me!
As I came into the finish, I heard the announcer call out my name with a 9th place. I had squeezed into the top 10, finishing in 11 hours and 2 seconds!
Post-race, we hung around the finish to watch Arden come in 8 minutes later. It’s so fun to feel like I have both American and Canadian teammates, even though this is an individual sport.
Some insights:
Canyons was my 3rd 100K, so covering the distance still feels like an accomplishment in and of itself, outside of placement. Is there room for improvement? Yes, particularly in terms of solving my shoe issues and toe blisters and having a better electrolyte plan to avoiding having to stop to pee so many times. Both could have saved several minutes.
I also think there’s room to improve in terms of my competitive drive. I came into the race healthy and fit, but was still carrying some hard feelings around an event that happened earlier this spring. I journaled, went to therapy, took care of myself and listened to my body and what it needed, and still I don’t think I was completely over those feelings. Perhaps that’s where some of that greater push went? Even so, I’m thrilled with another top 10 finish at a Golden Ticket race and the fact that this qualifies me to run CCC in 2025 is exciting, too. To be decided on whether or not I do that race. We’ll see!
For now, I’ll be recovering and then hopping into some shorter races again (here’s looking at you Vertical Kilometer races) and maybe some late spring FKTs. Already I feel like I’m recovering well, thanks in large part I believe to how well I fueled during the race. Since increasing the number of carbs I take in per hour during races, my stomach feels better post-race (as in, I can eat a meal immediately following) and I recover quickly. During this race, I took in about 4,000 calories, equating to 363 calories per hour, or 91 carbs per hour—spot on with what I wanted to hit.
I’m grateful to have been given the chance to run another competitive race and look forward to continuing to challenge myself by jumping into harder races with deeper fields. It’s a fun learning experience and encourages me to lean into my weaknesses and rely on the strengths that I’ve built over the last ten years of running ultras.
Big thanks to Nick, my coach, Megan, and Topo Athletic for helping make this race possible. Here’s to more adventures to come!
Jade, what a terrific write-up of your race. Once again, your writing allows the reader to "be there" as you experienced the various parts of the race! You did terrifically well! Ninth place was beyond your goal, so good for you. Appreciated reading about your nutrition and the need for shoe changes! So nice your Dad could watch! Hope you have recovered well and are setting new goals for yourself! Congratulations!
Good read Jade! I enjoy the openness, honesty and self awareness that is evident in your writings in general and your race recaps in particular. Oh , and the race performance was quite excellent, BTW...