2016 Mogollon Monster reflection undone story
Ideally less then a month before I take my shot at her.
It was talk, adults, nah dreamers; men thirsting to suck the very narrow out of an ambitious challenge. The idea, the race, the draw, was the Mogollon Monster. Chris said “I know it can be done.” I smiled, knowing how much effort it took me to finish my first Zane Grey, and yes Mogollon is on my bucket list; but this race is so intimidating to me. Mogollon is like Zane Grey on steroids. But Chris’s argument was that it really is all mental.
Well less than a year after these words flooded my brain, and about 3 months prior to the race, Chris sent me a text with a picture. His Ultra Signup screen shot. Holy Shit! He signed up for the monster. FUCK, 107 miles and 22,000 feet of climbing. I had promised to crew and pace, if and or when he did this race. I never doubted he would do it, I just hadn’t it expected it to be so SOON.
Training wise, my mileage was not high, but it had been more consistent than ever. I am not going to lie I was very intimidated to be pacing 38 miles with about 5800’ of gain. But I was truly excited for Chris, and honored to be a part of this epic event. The buildup for me was as intense as if I was running the race. I was feeling emotions I had not felt in a long time. I was bouncing off the freaking walls. Where the hell had this feeling gone?
Race morning went off without a hitch as the 40 plus runners ventured on their 101 or so mile journey. The day before the race, I read on Facebook, a change was made to the race course and the race would now be a true 100 miler. Not sure how the runners felt, but for me, I knew this race was still be hard as hell and would take a both physical and mental strength to finish.
Waiting at Washington park mileu(s) was very intriguing. Knowing I had a runner on the course was sidelined by the various antics, being acted on and filmed by the race director and crew. Runners in costume portraying the Mogollon Monster, obviously hot, did break up the monotony of waiting for Chris. I only say monotony, because I could not relax.
My mind raced with how un-organized I was when he passed through the aide station the first time. I felt like I let him down. But when he returned I would not only need to help supply aide, but be ready, to pace/guide him through the night. I predicted Chris would reach mile at the about 6:00. My guess was close. I had spent the day crewing with Chris senior, and his cousin, we were Team Lopez. And team Lopez executed swiftly when Chris came through at mile XX,
As we left Washington Park and headed towards Hells Gate I let Chris Lead. It’s how id been paced, and I thought, this was the best method. We were soon greeted by a vibrant female runner. We joined teams as she told tales of her 20 plus hundred mile races. It did help pass the time, and helped me get comfortable and engage the trail we faced. Tall grace and sketchy navigation! Chris being SO alert navigated perfect, I was likd um yes that looks right, ha thank God we did not get lost. Pacer failing kept us all on tract. Should I really admit that?
Hells Gate appeared dimly, than as bright as it could be, in the middle of the forest. Chris asked for a quesadilla, as I had his pack and bottles filled. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable. I knew we had a long and cold night ahead of us. Myrtle was next.
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