Hello Grand Canyon!

The week started slowly, as I was coming down from the high of the San Diego Tri Classic, but I managed to get up early on Monday morning for a nice easy 18-20 mile ride.  As luck would have it, it rained for the majority of my ride, but not enough that the roads were difficult to navigate. 

It was raining, so I had to take the shot inside my garage.

Tuesday morning, I headed out for a 6 mile run in Ahwatukee and the weather had finally stepped off of the horrendous humidity and temps of the weeks prior.  It was only about 60% humidity and 83 degrees, so I felt like I could give it a decent effort for an hour. 

Wednesday, I met Matt for a ride out Pecos and back.  We were heading out fairly moderately for the first ½ -- not killing it or worrying about passing anyone else.  But when we both started back to the Park ‘n Ride from the mid-point, we decided to really work hard.  In fact, we annihilated our former personal bests on the Desert Foothills climb – attempting to keep our pace over 19 mph the whole way up.  Matt was right in front of me, as we ascended the hardest portion and he kept us in check.  We were both super pleased with what we were able to do! 
Two very proud cyclists for sure!

We both took Thursday as a rest day in preparation for the next day.

At 5am on Friday morning we met to run our usual-long-Sunday-run.  14 miles on a week day meant we could not screw around.  Although Matt was technically taking a vacation day, I had to be at the District Office by 8:30 for an all-day retreat.

We warmed up together for one mile and then Matt took off at his pace and I did my thing at my pace.  I felt really solid for nearly 8 miles – thinking about the prior weekend, thinking about work, thinking about the upcoming marathon.  Then, it was just work to get through the next 6 miles.  I would really like to have a solid training run one of these weeks – and although I always finish, I would really love to finish a lot stronger at a much better pace.  Everyone keeps reminding me that it will come back when the weather finally dips into the 60’s and 70’s in the morning – so I am waiting.  I am trying to be patient. 

My Garmin’s been a little funky for the last few days, so I know I need to reset the dang thing to factory settings – I just never remember until I am ready to use it (which is not the time to do it).  My run only amounted to 13.1 and change, but I think it was off.  Who knows?  I was happy to see Matt’s little head peeking out from the Park ‘n Ride as I approached the end of the run.  And, then it was off to my all-day meeting.

The reason I needed to run Friday, this week, was because Rob and I were heading up to the Grand Canyon on Saturday.  I have always been so embarrassed to call myself a trail enthusiast, when I live in the state with the world’s most amazing trails and haven’t even taken the time to peek over the edge to take a gander.  So, Saturday morning, I drove up north to Rob’s place and then he drove the remaining 3+ hours to the Canyon.

The ride was pretty uneventful – and I guess I didn’t understand what to expect from the Grand Canyon – as I kept looking and looking (for 40 miles) for a large canyon, anticipating that I would see it well before I was right on top of it.  Well, come to find out – that’s not actually how it works. 

We arrived and parked and I think I may have skipped my way to the start of the Bright Angel trailhead.  Matt told me that I should enjoy the hike, but that it would be tough.  He encouraged me to take Bright Angel nearly 5 miles down to the Indian Garden and then come back up.  He reinforced that it would be tough, but incredibly worth it. 

At the top -- just before hitting the trail.

As the two of us made our way down the trail, there were loads of people in the way for about a mile.  There were people in ill-fitted clothing, inappropriate foot-attire and packs that seemed ridiculous for a day hike where there are water-stations every 1.5 miles.  Rob mentioned that he’d only done this same hike once before and he found himself playing Sherpa to two older Canadians who had gotten in too deep near the Indian Garden and needed someone to carry their packs, just so they could make the trek back to the top. 

I listened to all kinds of stories on my way down – thinking about how much I had always wanted to be right where I was, but also recognizing just how steep the descent into the canyon was.  As we passed the first water stop, people were winded, sitting, resting.  They were likely on their way up. 

I was watching every step, thinking about what it was going to be like heading the other direction.  The breathing pattern from the people passing us (going up) as we descended was unsettling at times.  In fact just past the 1.5 mile stop, we passed a couple from the UK.  I smiled, said hello and asked the woman how she was doing.  “Good, thanks.” She replied.  And, then I passed the guy she was with, greeting him with the same question.  “Shattered!” he exclaimed, as we all busted up laughing.  It was a perfect description of how most people looked as they made their way up. 

After we passed the 3 mile mark on the way down, we ran into 2 gals struggling as they ascended.  “How far until the 3 mile stop?” one moaned.  I was happily able to smile and let her know it was merely 150 meters ahead.  I think it helped their energy to know that.  After another half mile, we were out in the canyon with no shade around us.  The temperature at the very top was 65 degrees, but as we approached the 4^th mile, it was clearly about 80-85. 

We approached the Indian Garden and it was a shaded haven.  People were camping, eating, picnicking and resting.  There were bathrooms and water and a lot of people sitting around.  We both made a quick pee stop, downed a small bit of food and turned around to head up.  My watch read 1 hour 38 minutes.  I gasped.  “Oh, shit.” I said.  “I can’t imagine it will take us less than double that to get up.”  I remembered one group exclaiming that they’d been hiking for 5 hours – they were not far from the 1.5 mile water stop on their way up and said they had gone down as far as we did.  I turned around and looked at Rob when we passed them and said, “oh, god, please don’t let this take me 5 hours.”  He reassured me that it should not.  But, looking at my watch and reading 1:38 for a descent down 5 miles, had given me reason to panic. 

Stair steppers...

The first mile isn’t really tough – it has elevation, but it’s simply the easier of the 5 miles.  We were also exposed – in direct sun light, battling the elevation and the heat.  It felt awful. 

The next 4 miles are actually pretty stinkin’ hard on the legs.  My heart was racing with every step, but I made the decision to allow no one to pass me on the way up.  It was a challenge Matt had often discussed with me while he was in training for his various 40-50 mile hikes, so I was determined to do the same.  Routinely, we came upon people who were laden with heavy packs or people who were simply dying from the elevation and difficulty of the trail.  Much of the middle 3 miles up are stair-steppers.  They can be steep and relentless.  But we were managing.  I was thinking only about being consistent and not stopping unless I had to (for water, mules or slower people in narrow sections).  And, that’s how it went.  I didn’t stop for any pictures on the way up – I was simply too focused on finishing strong. 

We hit the 3 mile mark and didn’t need to stop.  There was a little shade from time to time, at that point, so we enjoyed the cooler temps.  We moved around one guy who noticed Rob’s pack and said, “hey, I couldn’t help but notice your Ironman backpack.  Did you just complete one?”  Rob admitted he had and the two of them talked Ironman finishes for a good while.  All I could think about was, “YES!  I just swept by an Ironman and he’s not going to be able to keep up.”  That was exactly what happened.  He thanked Rob for keeping him company for a bit and then the two of us continued – never seeing that Ironman, again.  (grin)

I was really strong for the next couple of miles.  I was pretty quiet, save my breathing, and enjoying every inch of the canyon.  It was lush with green and some sections were even muddy, given the recent rains Arizona had gotten. 

At the last water stop (mile 1.5 from the top), I filled a bit of my Camelbak and then headed back out.  I didn’t want to lose any time.  I knew the end was near and I could see on my watch that I should not have worried so much about the time.  It was not going to take us as long as I thought it might. 

About a mile from the end, we started seeing people on the trail who did not belong.   Some were inappropriately dressed, some were seriously not in the right shape and some were simply dangerously ill-equipped.  We saw one poor guy who was clearly affected by the elevation.  We all tried to help him, but he refused and simply sat down.  I still hope he was ok. 

A group of four people about a mile from the top asked Rob if they should seriously consider turning around at that point.  He sarcastically told them “it’s not so bad!”  But then I piped up, worried they might hate life later and told them, “Look, its not easy at all – but its so very worth it.  If you have the right shoes and water – another ½ mile will be ok.  Otherwise, pack it in.” 

We don’t know what they eventually decided because I was far too focused on not allowing anyone to pass me.  

At the top, again, super happy!

As I hit the top of the trail, I raised my hands in the air – I had done it.  I stopped my watch: 3 hours 33 minutes.  It took 1:55 to get to the top – a mere 17 minutes longer than getting down.  I think I may have squealed a bit realizing what we had done.  I mean, I’ll admit, I thought I might need a rope-tow about 2 miles from the top, but I didn’t allow my thoughts to kill my momentum or enthusiasm for my location.  I was hiking the Grand Canyon for the first (not last) time.  I will never get another first time – and it was amazing.

(I took this morning - Sunday - off, but met Anne and the completion of her 14 mile run!!)

Anne as soon as she finished!