In general, many a runner tackles longer distances as they want to test out their limits and get bored with whatever distance they run. You run a 5K, move up to halfs, graduate to a full marathon and for many, escalate it further and tackle an ultra marathon.

For me, I’ve been content capping out at doing full marathons. It’s definitely a respectable distance and always gives you something to learn from with each race. I got twenty under my belt so far and can attest to that. Knocking out an ultra just really didn’t have that allure for me for the longest time. I love running trails, but it’s always been short runs. I was content with that.

In my early years of running, the joke was, when you get old and slow, you run ultras and buy Hokas! Well, I for sure ain’t old! And I still got a bit of speed on me still! And Hokas just don’t work for me. So the marathon is where I capped the distance at. Over the years, I’ve seen those stereotypes fall to the wayside as ultras and trail running as a whole exploded, especially after COVID. It’s definitely younger generation tapping into it. Runners are equal parts as fast on the roads as on the trails and overall, more runners as a whole, regardless of age or speed are tackling the trails as many trail races look to expanding their runner base and who that looks like. Make no bones about it, trail running is for everybody!

But me? I was steadfast at saying no to ultras. For years, a good ultra buddy of mine and I had this long standing stalemate that we mutually agreed upon. He would always poke and prod me to sign up for an ultra. Me, being a triathlete as well, would always come back with, “When you do a tri, I’ll do an ultra.” A gentlemen’s agreement that has stood for about a decade. There we stood, line in the sand, that neither of us would cross.

Until one of us did. I signed up for the Noble Canyon 50K back in May. Equal parts giving in to peer pressure, listening to my mentors to do the scary thing, curiosity in understanding the runner’s POV compared to just coaching it on the sidelines, I signed up on day one that registration opened. I always said if I were to do a 50K, Noble Canyon would be it. With it falling on the same day as my birthday, I figured the stars aligned to make this the year to make it happen. So I plunked down my money and put my training plan together.

Sixteen weeks later, here we are stumbling in the dark through the pot hole filled field to pick up my bib. I see all the trail homies out there along with a few of us roadies that are tackling this distance for the first time. I’m chit chatting with everyone feeling pretty good and trying to stay relaxed. In the back of my mind, I’m super grateful to be there. Just two days earlier, I was in the ER for fifteen hours with a loved one trying to figure out what was going on with them. It’s been a rough year with a lot of health scares in family and this was a new situation with a different family member. I was ready to not race. But after talking with doctors and medical staff, we got the a-ok that all was fine.

With all that on my mind, I’m just trying to stay focused on the task at hand. Compartmentalization, yo! Probably not advised from a therapist perspective, but that’s what works for me. But until the race starts, it’s on my mind when I got that free moment.

Back to the race!

Finally, I make my way back to my truck to start getting my gear together. I already did the hard part of packing the night before, so now it’s just making sure I have everything on and packed where I want it. Still I go through my list to make sure I don’t forget anything because I’ve done that before! I bust out the Hypervolt and hit the calf with it. I’ve been dealing with a slight strain in it for a few months. It hadn’t gotten worse with training and rocking the compression sleeve definitely provided relief. Still, I’m hoping it holds up when I need it most.

It feels like a rush all of a sudden. I don’t realize that folks are lining up so I wrap things up, slam the truck shut and dash over to the start. I missed the first half of the pre-race talk and all the fun group pics and before you know it, the horn blows and off we go!

It’s about a mile of road we tackle before we actually head onto the single track trail. I take off a bit fast (trail fast) to get ahead of folks so I don’t end up too far deep into the eventual bottle neck. It’s about a mile of climbing through the trail before we hit a long descent. I’m quickly walking and running where I can. The legs still need to warm up and it’s always hard to find my lungs with these climbs. Hella folks pass me up here and there. I glom onto a group of folks that are roughly my pace and also run/walking. I’m worried that I won’t be able to push on the hills. But just as quickly, I brush it off and think about how I know I run with these trails.

Finally we hit the long sandy patch downhill. I take advantage of it. While others play cautious, I’m able to be a billy goat and scamper and bounce down the hills. It’s really the only good thing I got with trails! The weather’s fairly cool at this point. Some rain the day or two before really helped keep things cool early on. But I don’t expect that to last late in the day. With the jaunt down the trail we finally hit the name sake trail – Noble Canyon.

The Noble Canyon Trail is about ten miles long and covers about a thousand feet of elevation gain. With the trail covering so much distance, you’ll come across all the terrain. Super technical section that’ll challenge your footing. Picturesque sections that are more easily traversable. Sections that run parallel to a river that makes it you forget you’re climbing. More crazy technical sections that if you fall the wrong way, down the mountain side you go.

All of this was part of why I decided to do this race. I wanted to run something that people would say, “Wow! That was your first? Mad props.” Plus I’ve paced a few of my athletes on this section for their hundred mile races, so the familiarity of it made it less daunting. Nonetheless, running this section at my own pace is different. As expected, I end up behind a long line of folks that are splitting the trail up with running and power hiking. The trail is narrow in plenty of sections and doesn’t offer many opportunities to pass folks up. I don’t trip off if. I know it’s early in the race and I need to pace it well so I don’t bonk on the back half when I need to dig deep. Still I want to go! I pass up a few people here and there, but in reality, I’m not crushing it. Often a handful of us are jockeying back and forth; taking turns passing each other up. Since it’s a long climb up, I make sure to film some stuff and enjoy the scenery along the way.

Finally, we hit the first aid station around mile eight or so. I’m still feeling great, but I don’t want to just breeze through. The crew is awesome with tending to us, asking if we need anything, being positive. I got plenty of supplies still. The plan is to drink water at the aid stations, because my pack has only electrolytes in it. The plan is to also eat food at the aid stations because I only have gels and snack mix on me. So down goes some water and pretzels. I’m not one to grab all the food. PBNJ is not my jam (ha!), I’m not big on M&Ms and I don’t care too much for the salted potatoes. I know it sounds off for my trail vets reading that are used to grabbing at everything, but I know how my body works and have been training with what works for me. Especially early on, I don’t want to gorge quite yet.

Roughly five minutes pass, and I’m out the aid station and back on the road, err trail. It’s another three-ish miles until the big aid station at Penny Pines and lots more climbing to do. The weather is still holding up. The canopy of trees keeps most of the sun off us and the exposed areas are still pretty cool. I’m looking forward to Penny Pines because I think I gotta poop! I felt this way since the race started but ran out of time to hit the head one last time before we took off. TMI, I know, but keeping it real. I’m vowed to not poop in the woods, but I’m thinking I might have to renege on that! “Maybe it’s just gas.” “Do you really want to test that?” That’s what I’ve been thinking off and on since the race started. The views on some of these peaks distract my GI thoughts.

Finally we get to Penny Pines, roughly mile eleven. By now, the herd has thinned out as some runners are in and out from the aid stations and the trail opens up a bit wider to allow folks to take off at their pace and not be hemmed up by folks ahead of them. It’s a much bigger aid station at the top of the mountain, right off the Sunrise Highway. Supplies there are just as plentiful and the pit crew there is just as helpful. I go back to my routine of downing water, pretzels and such. By now I realize I forgot to pack my reusable cup. Luckily they have a small plastic cup that I use and decide to keep with me. I shove it into my hip pocket and hope it doesn’t crack. Another five minutes or so, and I’m back to it. I give the race staff my bib number they, they log it and off I go. But wait, the folks at Big Tree said that Penny Pines would have a porta potty. I find it and decide I better go handle business. …It’s just gas. Whew!

Back out on the trails, I’m running on part of the Pacific Crest Trail and the views are just gorgeous! Running along that ridge, I take a look out east and pause for a quick minute to snap a pic and enjoy the view of the mountains staggering behind one another framing the desert of Borrego Springs off in the distant. The morning haze gives it a soft glow as the sun filters through it. After that poetic moment, the view slowly disappears as we dip down into a valley and zigzags around the mountain. I’m surprised that the weather is still fairly tame despite being fully exposed to the sun. I’m not complaining, nor am I fully acknowledging it, lest I jinx myself and it starts to boil.

We start climbing up the mountain. Which one? I don’t know. But it’s a long, arduous climb and it sucks. By now, we’re definitely at elevation. It’s not until later that I realize that the thinness of the air up there is slowing me down. Back in the civil mountains around my neighborhood, these would be climbs that I would be able to run. But instead I’m power hiking up them. It frustrates me a bit because I swear I was running up this section during one of the training runs.

At this point, I’m hanging around the same familiar faces. We’ve been switching back and forth with taking the lead at different points since Big Tree. That’s trail running for ya – your current placing can change at any given point. I’ve been following my run bud Maureen for awhile now up this section. We talk (yell) back and forth to one another here and there. I crack a few jokes about how this section sucks. As long as you can laugh, everything will be okay. It breaks the monotony of this climb. Fuck, this climb sucks! Have I mentioned this already? You walk about thirty to forty feet and then have to take a big step up over railroad ties or granite steps to the next thirty to forty foot section and repeat. Stairway to heaven is a death march.

Finally we hit the peak and we start to make our way down. I’m looking forward to this section because that means we’re done climbing and I can make up some of this lost time from all the walking. Trail runners will call it power hiking. Nice euphemism. It’s walking. Plus, I should be able to find my lungs as we drop down and get rid of this elevation. You would think I’m climbing Everest, but we’re no higher than five thousand feet. But still, I feel it.

Like I mentioned before, I’m pretty good at bombing down hills, flat or rocky. I joke around and say that gravity helps when you’re fat like me. Standing at 5’9”, 185lb – 190lb, I’m not fat, but I’m definitely not light like some of my runbuds. Even though I love them, climbing hills is a chore at times, especially when I’m trying to keep up with my faster, lighter buddies. But going downhill? Those twenty to thirty pounds that I got over them, plus being nimble is an advantage. Gravity does help! I take off the brakes and just coast and bounce. Zigzagging down the hill, light and surefooted with my steps over the rocky sections, full strides on the flats like I’m running roads, I pass up a few number of folks as we head toward Big Laguna Lake.

This section runs through the trees and is in a flat valley. Tons of pine trees provide good shade for a good section of this race. Miles wise, we’re in the mid to high teens of the race. From Penny Pines back to Big Tree is a big loop, roughly six miles. I keep my mental focus on that, rather than thinking I’m just past the halfway mark or that I have hours of running left. Break it down in chunks. This section has its own beauty of the trees, the valley floor, the lake in the distance. I snap a few more pics here too to take my mind off things. I pass by pine cones the size of footballs – prehistoric looking things that seem unreal. Physically, I still feel pretty good. I’ve been pretty diligent with taking in fluids roughly every mile and popping gels and salt tabs every forty five minutes, so my energy feels pretty high. But here comes that feeling again.

Do I gotta poop? It’s the same feeling as last time. Hmm… There are definitely no porta potties around here! Shit. What do I do? Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything. Luckily, I brought TP with me. I head off trail into the trees and find a big pine to get behind. I’ve never pooped in the woods before. I’m a city dude! Do I even know how? Will human instinct take over? We shall see! I get ready to drop trowel, but before I do, I give it one last shot. Yes!!!! Just gas! Whew! Crisis averted! That was close! Still batting a thousand for not pooping in the woods! After that, I feel much better! A spring in my step! I head back onto the trail and take off.

Another pretty section at Laguna Lake. Only there’s no lake.

Take off is an optimal word. I was definitely taking off on this section during a training run. Not this time. I feel like a dude with a supped up four cylinder car, thinking he got mad power under the hood, yet revving his engine and going nowhere. My heart rate monitor on my watch confirms this. My heart is racing whenever I try to pick up the pace. I’ll stop and walk, let the heart rate come down to zone two and try to pick it up again. The same results. Maybe I’m trying to run too fast. I slow down the pace, but still the same results, it’s frustrating as fuck! I was dead set on making up time on this section! That combination of elevation and fatigue is killing me! As a coach I should know this! My well experienced trail buds confirm this. But at that moment? I don’t want to hear any of this! I just want to go!

This is the real sucky part. I want to quit. I want to give up. “Fuck this!” “What’s the point?” “See, I told you not to sign up for this bullshit!” “You ain’t have better shit to do on your birthday?” “What if I just stop?” What if I just stop? Hmmmm. That’s a thought. But then rationale sets in. “You could stop. But, you’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. How are you gonna get back? This ain’t a road race muthafucka! You gotta keep going!” So, on I go.

This mental meltdown happens maybe about halfway from Penny Pines to Big Tree aid station, somewhere in the mid to high teen miles of the race. More ration sets in. I’ve ran longer than this during training, both time wise and mile wise. This is just a moment. You can make it to the aid station! Eventually I’m able to run more than walk. Eventually I hear the faint aid station noises off in the distance and that gets me pumped up to move faster.

Back at Big Tree once again! I made it! Oh wait, no you didn’t! What I made it to was a road crossing where there was a mini-cheer station set up by some trail angels! It’s a great mental boost, but damn. It’s also a little disheartening because we still got a few miles to go to actually hit Big Tree! Thanks are giving and I’m pushing forward. I got this! Just when I think I do, boom! There goes the cramp in my calf! And not the bad one with the muscle strain that I’ve been dealing with and training on for the past few months! (That’s a whole ‘nother story! #IYYK). It’s this right calf cramp that gets me stopping to stretch it out for a moment. I do and pop some more salt tabs immediately! I mush on taking the pace a little easy and adjusting my stride as I go whenever the calf wants to act up.

The views just past Penny Pines are chef’s kiss! Pictures don’t. Do. Justice.

Forreal this time, we’re back at Big Tree! Finally! I’m happy because I caught up with some folks that I thought were long gone when I was going through that meltdown earlier and couldn’t hit the gas. It’s a big relief! The volunteers are buzzing around helping and attending to us as needed. I beg for some pickle juice shots to deal with the cramps that by know has also migrated to the other calf. One of the volunteers mentions that I look better now than what I did when I passed through the first time? “You’re bullshitting me!” Whether he is or not, I’ll take it! Another boost in the mood tank. I spend the most time at this stop because I gotta get these cramps in check, plus the temperatures have picked up by now, plus I’m tired! I see a few friends eventually take off and after a few more minutes, decide it’s my turn.

What goes up, must come down! We’re back at the heart of the Noble Canyon trail and this is what I’ve been waiting for. Like I said earlier, downhill on the trails is my jam! The cramps are gone (mostly), we’re out of high elevation, I just got a full tank of gas from the aid station, it’s now or never to run this bitch! Roughly five miles to Hammer’s Hideaway aid station (the last one) and roughly ten to the finish! I’m feeling good, feeling confident, ready to go! This stretch is super technical, with lot of ankle breaking rocks stacked on top of another, huge boulders to bound around, roots hidden under leaves. Most of this section is under the trees, which keeps the direct sun off of us even though the temps are picking up in the late morning.

I’m not thinking about much, I’m laser focused on my footing and where I’m stepping next. I’m slowly picking off a mix of strangers and run buds, taking advantage of their cautiousness back down Noble. I’m cautious too with my legs feeling fatigued, but I trust my instincts. At a few points, along the way, my calves start acting up and it forces me to slow down or stop completely. I try not to get frustrated with it and put my coaching hat on. Pop a few more salt tabs, sip more electrolytes and stay on top of the gel intake. I use some of the boulders to get my stretch on as needed before taking off again. Eventually we get to the two stream crossings. They let me know that I’m close to the final aid station.

Finally I leave the shade of the trees behind and it’s full sun out over me. I’ve been slowly reeling in a group of trail buds that I hella respect. Seeing them gives me a good sign that I’m making good time. I keep working on getting closer and closer. The sun’s hot overhead, but to be honest, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Some of my training runs have been way worse!

Eventually we get to the most technical part of Noble Canyon where it’s barely single track. The mountain is on my right and the steep cliff is on my left. It switchbacks in sections, there’s some climbs and descents as we go along. My inner odometer must’ve went off because I look down at my watch and realize that I’m at 26.4 miles, just past the marathon point! I stop to record some video and mark the moment. Five-ish miles to go! Unmarked territory from here on out!

Right after I record and get back to it, a major bout stops me dead in my tracks. My legs are frozen! My calves feel like stones underneath my skin. I’m hurting real, real bad. Those trail buds I was so close to catching are gone and out of sight. I’m definitely not gonna catch them now. I do my best to squeeze and massage my calves, but it doesn’t seem to help. People that I had passed up and left behind are passing me up, leaving me behind. This sucks, big time! Finally, I get the legs loose and I hobble onward. Each step hurts, but I know I gotta press on. I’m too close to quit now! But at this point, it ain’t looking pretty!

Motion is lotion! The more I move, the more the cramps subside. The rest of me feels pretty decent considering the pounding it’s been going through. So I know that the calf cramps are mostly from just getting trashed and not from electrolyte depletion. But I still keep up with popping extra salt tabs and taking long drags of water from my hydration vest. I just got to get to Hammer’s Hideaway, about a mile and a half away!

I’m moving okay and am super in tune with what my body feels and adjust my stride or walk as needed down this last rocky section. I see my some run buds that are volunteering at the trail split, directing runners in the right direction. I start to take off again, but am quickly sidelined by another monster cramp. It’s frustrating. I hobble past them and they’re a bit too cheery and happy for my being at that moment. “You got this!” “You’re right there!” Do I, really? Am I? The aid station is probably about a quarter mile away, but it feels infinitely farther than that. I’m just a hot mess the whole way to the aid station. To add insult to injury, it’s short, steep climb to actually get to the aid station. Fuuuck.

…And this isn’t event he worst of it! Just where I felt comfortable to record.

A ton of my other run buds are there at the aid station volunteering. They see me and egg me on to climb that hill. Finally! The aid station is heaven! I’m floored because the music they’re playing changes up to happy birthday and they start singing to me. What a run nerd I am to choose to do this for my birthday!! I’m truly appreciative and mad emotional. I do my best to not crack into tears. The fatigue, heat, cramps and gratefulness all got my eyes watering a bit. They’re super excited and amped up to see me and it’s overwhelming. I just take it all in and let them do their thing.

They’re quick to get me what I need! I put down some water, paw at some food, take the shoulder massage, get ice filled in my bandana, arm sleeves and down my shorts and chat with them all at once. I feel life coming back to me! Despite the tiredness, I’m still cracking jokes and laughing with them. It’s how I deal with the downs in life. Finally, my one friend passes me a much needed Red Bull. I crack it open and down that sucker. Sweet elixir of life! It’s just what I needed. I just want to hang out here, but I know I can’t. My friends are now busy tending to the rest of the walking dead – other friends of mine running, and other randos, all looking a hot mess at this point too. I get sponged down one last time with ice cold water from another bud before I know I gotta mush on.

Back down the steep hill I go, hoping I don’t lose my footing and take a tumble with my calves still hating me. More cramps pop up again as I get to the trail split. It’s gonna be a long four miles. My buds at the split tell me that it’s all in my head. The hell it is! They don’t know my pain. In fact, these guys that have done multiple ultras do know. They’re way experienced with this than I am. But still, I’m hurting and at that moment, you can’t tell me otherwise!

This stretch of trail is a bit of sandy, steady incline for about two miles. On fresh legs, it’s probably mostly runnable, but on these dead ass, cramping legs, I know it’s gonna be rough. My buddy’s words must’ve hit home somewhere. After passing them, I had another bout of cramps, so I stopped and did my thing to stretch them out. After that, I said, “Fuck this! Let’s go!” I started running, albeit slow. But there I was, mind over matter. When I needed to walk because the hill became too much, I walked. But I kept it short. I kept different trees and bushes as targets. When I got to them, I took off running again. And it was working

I don’t know if it was my determination to finish or the hill’s incline that got my calves working in a different manner, but the calves were working with me. I felt like I was passing hella people. They were all walking and here I was running past them. Those rabbits kept me motivated to keep going! I’m grinding it out and despite all the fatigue, I’m feeling myself! I got this!

Finally, I reach the top of the hill. I take a pause for the cause and enjoy the view for a quick minute while I pop more salt tablets and swig more electrolytes. Two mile to go and I’m an ultramarathoner! It’s literally all downhill from here! It’s all familiar territory from earlier that morning, plus all the training runs I’ve done in the summer. A little technical, but nothing like what I’ve dealt with already. I’m just hoping the calves cooperate. “Please work with me! I know you’re cooked! Just two more miles.” I take off down the hill bobbing and weaving over and around the rocks, eyes honed in on where I step, reminding myself often to pick up my feet. Though I’ve had some close calls already, I’m determined not to trip and fall, especially this late in the race. Surprisingly, I’m feeling okay. The calves want to cramp here and there, but I’m able to adjust my gait and work through them without them seizing up. I’m still passing up a few folks and that keeps the energy high. They’re playing it more cautious and I’m assuming it’s because they’re legs are shot. Mine are too, but I’m leaning into knowing that my legs are strong and my mountain goat skills are top tier. A mile later, I’m hitting the bottom of the hill and the trail head! Hills are done, son!

Me and this guy had been passing each other up back and forth the last quarter mile of that hill and now that we’re down at the trail head, he’s back ahead of me. His buddy is there to run that last mile with him. They take the lead as we cut through a short bit of trail leading out to the street. We hit the street and take a left. It’s about a mile to the finish all on paved road. I’m a road runner by heart, so I’m in my element. They’re not gonna beat me, dammit! I quickly reel them in and leave them behind. My running gait transforms to full street runner form and I’m feeling all of that energy that one finds when they know the finish line is near.

Another pops up in sight and I work towards reeling him in. He doesn’t have spring in his step so it’s light work and I leave him behind as we climb a short incline. Miraculously, the calf pain is gone or maybe I’m just ignoring it, I don’t know at this point. All I know is I see the finish line off in the distance and I starting to pick up the pace. I start to hear the finish line noises and I get more amped. A quick dip off the road onto the field I go. I give it one last push that last fifty yards or so, grab and chuck the hanging toy rat (it’s tradition for this race) underneath the finish line arch and step over the timing mat! I’m done!!!

I am so, so happy to be finished! I hear the announcer call my name and wish me happy birthday. A handful of friends rush towards me and give me all the hugs and congrats. I’m thrilled to see them! Mentally I’m feeling great! Physically, I’m tired, but the adrenaline of the moment has me feeling good! I finally see the Mrs. and it’s so good to see her. We give each other the biggest hug.

Halfway up Noble Canyon is really pretty and peaceful with the stream running next to you.

I’m in disbelief that I finished! Deep down, I knew I would finish, but there were moments were self-doubt throughout the race. The cramps along the way really had me wondering if I would. Actually, I thought I would be walking those last few miles barely make the cut off time. But somehow, I pulled it off and finished the way I pictured it in my head. Finish Strong!

A big, big shout out to my wife, first and foremost, for always having my back and supporting me throughout training once again. Mad love to all my trail buds from the Southbay YMCA and SD Trailrunners for all of their sage advice and support during training and holding it down at the aid stations. Shout out to Santa Mujeres Run Club, SixRUN9, Long Run Sunday, SWCHBak Run Club, Tuesday Waterfront Run, Black Men Run SD, Saturday Run Group, Black Girls Run SD and Milestone for providing all the runs to get the easy recovery miles in and for understanding when I had to go ghost to hit the trails as much as possible. The support and cheerleading of the run community with everyone’s goals is amazing! I’m proud to be a part of it and having the opportunity to coach many of you!

Shout out to the race director and volunteers of Noble Canyon 50K for putting on a great race. It was a great experience for my first ultra. 10/10 would highly recommend to everyone! I am thoroughly glad I chose this race to pop my ultra cherry! While I know better to say never again, for now, I think I’m okay with not repeating this experience (😆). For now, I will relish in the fact that I am an ultramarathoner!

7:08:23