Eight Life Lessons Learned Running the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim

Ten days after I completed running the Grand Canyon rim2rim2rim I was back home in New Jersey and at the starting line for a 50k trail run. It was probably not the smartest decision I ever made but it was good to be back on forest trails. I overheard two runners talking about previous trail races and one said “I learned a lesson on that race.” The other one responded, “there are lessons on every race.” I wholeheartedly agree with that statement.

My rim2rim2rim run in the Grand Canyon was not a race but a run. The lessons, however, are ingrained more deeply in my soul than the Colorado River is in the canyon. Some of these lessons are ones I have learned before but this run reinforced them. Others are completely new. Here they are in no particular order.

1.       Do Hard Things – We live in a society that spends its time trying to find the easiest way to do something. Drive-up windows for a cup of coffee. Remote controls for our TVs. I mean now we don’t even have to get up to turn on the lights or put on music. “Siri or Alexa” will do it for us. Yet I never felt more alive than when I was dead tired after finishing the rim2rim2rim. The next day I relived some of the difficult and beautiful parts of the run in my mind. This experience was what they call Type 2 Fun. Something that seems almost miserable at the time but when you look back on it, the memory is a positive and happy one. Hard things are Type 2 fun. The accomplishment was not a virtual one but a personal one. When you accomplish something that pushed you to your limits it makes other difficult challenges seem possible. It will also change your mindset and make you believe in yourself more.

2.       It’s Okay to Feel Insignificant – As I was running down, across, and up the canyon, there were throngs of tourists at the top of the south rim taking selfies and photos with the Grand Canyon as a spectacular backdrop. It isn’t one of the Seven Wonders of the World for nothing. While they were up there frolicking, they were completely unaware that there were people like me who were struggling on the canyon trails. They couldn’t even see us or even most of the bottom. As for me, those people were not of my concern. I could not even see them.  Whether we were at the top or the bottom of the canyon we seemed insignificant. However, I would stop often in take in the spectacle of the sun rising and setting on the canyon walls. It is hard not to be in awe of Mother Nature wherever you are in the canyon. If you ever wanted proof of a higher being, I cannot think of a more convincing piece of evidence than the Grand Canyon.

3.       Do Your Homework – Yes, I said do hard things, but it is best to be prepared to do them. That means not only training but knowing what you are asking yourself to do. For this run, I read numerous articles and watched more YouTube videos than I can count to see what the experience would entail. I even watched or read accounts of people who failed because they made a mistake. That way I could learn from their mistake. There was a Facebook group just for this challenge which I found very useful.  However, I was shocked at some of the questions that were posted. If the poster had done even a modicum of research, they would have known the answer. You need to be prepared for when things go wrong and not just depend on your guts to get you through. I may be daring but I am not reckless. It’s a good life lesson.

4.      All Miles are not Created Equal – No matter how you measure it, a mile is 5,280 feet. It is the same all over the world. Yet they are not all the same, not even close. Just about a month before undertaking the Grand Canyon run, I ran the same distance with a good amount of elevation over 8,200 feet (compared to the 11,600 of the canyon) in about 11 ½ hours.  So, I estimated that with the extra elevation and stops for picture-taking it should be 14 maybe 15 hours. But it was almost 17 ½ hours—a six-hour time difference from my earlier run.  I still really don’t know how to completely account for the difference, but my past experience was not a good indicator of future performance. While I was running slower than usual, in my head I kept thinking I would get back to my normal pace, which was a fallacy. I should have known better. A mile is not a mile. The terrain, climate, and environment determine the difficulty just as much, if not more, than the distance. This is a lesson not just for runners but for everyone. We judge things by one factor or definition when things are not nearly as black and white as they seem.

5.       Confidence Built on Reality not Fantasy, is Powerful – A sincere belief in yourself is so powerful. I have found that I can do some things that I would have thought may be beyond my capacity because of my confidence. Yet that confidence is built on a strong sense of self awareness. You must be honest with yourself about your abilities and know what is possible and what is not. On this run there were times when my confidence was tested but I fell back on past successes to fuel me. I had been through hard times before and succeeded and would do it again.

 

People often say you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it. While I have accomplished many long distances in my running career, I did not just do it by will alone. I needed to prepare myself for these things. There are things that are possible and things that are impossible for all individuals. Yet there is a gap between the two where you are not sure if they are possible or not unless you try. That is the sweet spot where if you push yourself and prepare correctly you can accomplish more than you think. That preparation and past successes build confidence to expand your limits. I have watched many people who challenged themselves on runs but did not have confidence in their ability and failed. I have also had people who mistake bravado for real confidence and failed because that is all they thought they needed.

6.       Great Solo Achievements are a Team Effort – I am very proud of my rim2rim2rim accomplishment and know that many people cannot even think of attempting such a feat especially at the age of 65. Yet I know that while all the steps I took were under my own power, others helped me finish this successfully. Most notably my wife and our friends Ed and Sue. They got up at 3:30 a.m. and drove me to the trailhead which saved me a mile of running. It also made it easier to just focus on my run and not how to find the trail from the hotel. Most importantly, at the end of my run, they saved me even more. They met me after 9 p.m. and had refreshments for me and drove me to our hotel room, which really hastened my recovery. Yet there were others who also helped me. Just reading and watching videos of total strangers’ experiences helped me prepare for this journey. I know that the American ethos is that of rugged individualism, but we all need others whether we like to admit it or not. My journey was solo but on the second half of the journey when I interacted with other runners, it lifted my spirit. It was uplifting to talk to others and motivated me. I had spent almost eight hours in silence during the first leg of the run and was struggling, yet those interactions with other people helped me push myself.

7.       Be in the Moment – When my wife would ask about the rim2rim2rim she often referred to it as a race. I would admonish her and say it was a “run” not a “race”. A race is a competition; this was not a competition. This was not just about running, this was about taking in the Grand Canyon and experiencing all it had to offer. I would stop often to take in the views.  This was a magnificent run not because of the distance but because of the location and grandeur of the Grand Canyon. Yes, I wanted to get this done as quickly as I could, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so it was important to notice the colors of the canyon walls changing. Despite this, when I was heading back my run felt more like a race because time was running out. I had to force myself to stop pushing and take in the views of the sunsetting over the canyon. Later when it was dark I turned off my headlamp and took in the stars of a dark sky. I was in complete darkness with the exception of the stars. I was not scared of the dark but enjoying being in the moment.

8.       There is More in the Tank When You Have No Other Option – After all my grueling races I know my body very well. So, as I sat at the bottom of the canyon by the banks of the Colorado River, I knew I had nothing left in the tank. I was not only done, but what lay before me was the toughest climb of the day. I wanted to stop and if this was a race I would have. This wasn’t a race, this was a journey. I was at my journey’s end. Except that it couldn’t end there. Not unless I wanted to curl up and sleep on the ground. My only option was to hike the six miles straight up and out. As I started up, I was a bit nervous because I felt I may not be capable of what lay before me. Yet even I was surprised by how the mind can take over and make you do more than you think. It wasn’t easy but I made it out. I even ran (albeit very slowly) the last half mile on the road. I had read and know it to be true they say the mind quits before the body.  My mind didn’t let my body quit.

This run was a journey that challenged and changed me. As those two runners noted there are lessons to learn on every trail run.

The Last Grueling Leg of my Grand Canyon Challenge

I was at the last water station, the Phantom Boat Beach, just a short walk from the Black Bridge which led to the South Kaibab Trail. The last but also hardest leg of my rim to rim to rim, Grand Canyon run. I had already run 37 miles. I was exhausted and if this was an ultra-marathon race like a 12-hour race I would have ended my run happy with my effort. Yet I had no choice but to hike out. Running this climb was impossible for me. I was out of options.

I needed to refill my water bladders. Then I was going to eat some snacks to get some calories before the six miles of steep climb some of which would be in the dark. After drinking some water, I took out some gels to get me some energy and electrolytes. I then planned to take out some energy bars. A great plan that my stomach was not in on. I barely got some of the gel in when I immediately threw up. I immediately knew I could not eat and would need to really push myself maybe harder than I ever had before to finish. I am sure that I looked as bad as I felt.

As I was putting on my running vest, I heard a man’s voice “Excuse me excuse” in a German accent. I looked over and saw a family of four. “Hi” I replied.  With a surprised tone in his voice, he asked “Are you just starting your hike to the rim?” I looked over at his family and could tell that I was an object of intrigue to them. Who would be starting a climb like that so late? (It was after 5 p.m.) “Yes” He responded “How long will it take you?” I then said “I am doing the Grand Canyon from the South Rim to the North and back up the south in one day. It will take me over 16 hours.” We then chatted a bit they were from Germany and were just as in awe of the canyon as was I. Not sure why but that friendly conversation motivated me, and I knew I had to go into “badass” mode.

I crossed the Black Bridge and took a long look at the Colorado River, knowing it may be the last time that I will be this close to it. The six mile hike out of the canyon is extremely steep. I just kept moving slowly but steadily. I did, however, have to stop and get my breath back. While I had plenty of water, I knew that I would be going through it fast on this climb.

At this point, I was not a joyous runner like before, snapping pictures and taking videos.  I was more in survival mode now. Despite that survival mode I did often stop and take in the views as it kept changing with the setting sun. The canyon has a way of making you stop and take in Mother Nature. I also messaged my wife through my Garmin InReach that it would take a while to get out.

A couple of miles into my climb I passed a young couple with heavy backpacks resting along the trail. I was surprised that I would see someone else. I thought I was the only one who would be on the trail this late. We exchanged greetings. I was hoping that they were on their way down because with those packs and the look of exhaustion on their faces it would be near impossible to get out. A little later I passed a father and a son hiking up the trail. The son seemed to be college age and was walking ahead of his father than waiting for him. We exchanged admiration of the views as the sun was setting. The father asked me “Are  you going to the rim?” which to me was a stupid question. There was no other option on this trail unless you were going to curl up and sleep on it. I almost gave a wiseass remark but reframed and said yes. I was worried about them because they were dressed for a short hike and seemed in over their head.

The wind began to really pick up for the last three miles which were in the dark. I had to take off my hat because it was about to blow off several times and I grabbed it just in time. I thought of putting on a long sleeve shirt or jacket, but I really was not cold because I was working so hard. With darkness and only guided by my headlamp it was a slog up the canyon. The wind was still howling, and it even blew the tips of my trekking poles. This sometimes meant that they did not land where I wanted them to.  I had never been in such strong winds on a run or hike before. I thought of that father and son and hoped that they had headlamps. I followed the trail up and up. Occasionally seeing a spider or other bug. I was startled when a rat scurried two feet in front of me.

I stopped often to rest and when I did, I would turn off my headlamp and look at the stars. I also glanced down the trail to see if I could see the lights of that father and son. Yet it was just total blackness.

I tried to message my wife that I was a short distance from the trailhead, but my phone had died. I would call her when I got to the trailhead. Less than a mile from the top I met two women who were just starting their rim2rim2rim. A strange time I thought since it was after 9PM. They would spend most of their time in the canyon in the dark. Then again maybe their return would be easier. Though you will miss a great amount of the grandeur of the canyon.

When I got to the South Kaibab Trailhead, I took a wrong turn and headed to where the mules are kept. I eventually found the parking lot and took out my phone to call my wife when the phone rang, and it was her. I told her I was at the top and would meet them where she and our friend Ed had dropped me off about a half mile from the trailhead. (Private cars could not drive to this trailhead.) I started walking the road but then broke into a jog.

I got to the end of the road before them and just waited. I was out of water and was craving a Gatorade. I messaged them that I wanted that. Luckily when they arrived they had a Gatorade for me. I looked like hell and felt even worse. I was tired. When we got back to our hotel room they tried to take care of me. I am sure that my friends Ed and Sue were stunned to see how awful I looked. My wife has seen me come home a mess many times after  grueling ultra-marathons but this was a new sight for them. My wife presented me with a finisher medal for the run. She knows how much I love my run bling.

Even though my stomach was empty, I could not eat. All I did was down liquids—Gatorade, lemonade, orange juice and a beer.  Then I took a shower and went to bed.

I have run 100 miles, 50 miles, ultras in snow, rain, and in the mud. Yet this run may have been the hardest run I ever did. That last climb tested me because I had nothing left in the tank but still went on. It is amazing how much you can accomplish when you have no other option.

A Runner’s Grand Canyon Resfeber

Resfeber Definition: The restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together. (Swedish term)

I came across the word resfeber at a 24 hour race I was entered in. It was on the back of the race shirt we got at the race. I loved the term. There is no word in the English language that quite captures one’s mood just before a journey as this one does. While the word is focused on traveling and literally translates to “travel fever” I think it also applies to difficult ultra marathons. They may not involve traveling like when one is on a vacation, but they definitely constitute a journey.

I had set my sights on running the Grand Canyon from the south rim to the north rim and back to the south rim. It would not be the longest run I had ever attempted but it would be a very difficult challenge because of the steepness of the climbs and descents. In addition, the weather could change dramatically from the top of the canyon to the bottom. There would be swings of temperature of more than thirty degrees. In addition, I would need to be self-sufficient, carrying my own food and gear. It would also be a solo journey.

I was at a family Easter party and every so often someone would ask me about the run. People are naturally intrigued by the distance, terrain and the location. While I usually like to regale others with running stories, I was done discussing this story. I had done my research and training and just wanted to do it. I was also a bit nervous as I usually am in anticipation of any difficult run.  I feel very ready but still have to wait.

As I write this paragraph, I am on a jet heading to Phoenix. I will land and spend a night with friends in Scottsdale, then a day later head to the Grand Canyon. The resfeber is building. I feel that mix of anticipation and excitement, but it is mixed with anxiety because I know of the difficulties that lie ahead.

I am wondering what it will feel like to peer out over the Grand Canyon the day before my run knowing that I will be heading down in the dark the next morning. I will have a mini entourage to the Grand Canyon. My wife and our friends Ed and Sue will also go. It will be a long drive to the Grand Canyon. I feel a bit guilty because they are all traveling to the canyon to help me fulfill my adventurous journey.  I know that what I am doing is a bit unique and sometimes it is hard to explain to others, especially people in my age group. Most are thinking of slowing down and I am feeling like speeding up.

I did a short six mile run in the desert setting outside of Sue and Ed’s home in Scottsdale. It felt good after spending all day on a plane and sitting around. It was cool, probably the low fifties or high forties. My running felt a little off. I was not running smoothly. I had been sick the week before but felt I had recovered. However, my routine had been affected. I was not in the moment. My anxiety and anticipation was distracting me.

As we got off the shuttle bus and headed to the ranger station at the top of the south rim, we realized that they were closing. My friends thought it was important to get as much information as I could about the weather. I knew that park rangers were not very enamored with rim2rim2rim runners so I was hesitant to really discuss anything with them that might give me away. So, I saw a friendly ranger and asked her where was the best place to park for the South Kaibab trailhead? I don’t remember who asked but they asked about the weather at the bottom because I was running the rim to rim to rim. Her demeanor immediately changed. “We don’t recommend that anyone do that. It is extremely hot at the bottom. We expect it to be 95 degrees tomorrow.” Now that did not jive with all the reports, I had read but we just walked away.

If her idea was to plant a seed of doubt and maybe change my mind she failed. Though my wife was now hesitant. She said to me “Now Ray don’t do overdo it. Please if it gets to be beyond your ability, it is okay to cut it short.” She knew better than I, that I would push myself as hard as I could. Though as she said loud enough for Ed and Sue to hear “I just wanted to have witnesses that if you don’t make it, I had warned you!” Ed and Sue astutely mentioned that they thought the ranger was trying to scare me by exaggerating the temperature.

As I peered out over the canyon at Mather Point. I have to admit I was in awe because from that vantage point it looked impossible to get down the canyon let alone traverse it. Yet there was only one way that I could eliminate the resfeber. That was to start down the trail. After that it would be like many other difficult runs managing the issues that arise and pushing and motivating myself to keep going.

Yet I hadn’t started the run, and my heart was racing with nervousness. The side effect of this is that sleeping the night before a major run is always difficult. I closed my eyes and dreamt about my upcoming journey.

The next morning, I had no resfeber. It was go time.