Cocodona 250 Race Report (Santa's perspective from running 200+ miles in the Arizona Desert)

Cocodona 250 was everything that it was chalked up to be, and much much more. It consisted of 255+ miles, 40,000+ feet climbing, and temperatures cresting three digits frequently. The logistical hiccups associated with it being an inaugural race, including the lack of real food at aid stations and missing course markings, simply added to the challenge.

Start Line

Arriving late on Saturday the 1^st, we spent most of the day before the race reevaluating drop bags, purchasing last-minute necessities, and analyzing time charts. With COVID protocols, there was no pre-race meeting. Instead, my crew and I arrived at race check-in on Sunday with minimal fanfare to pick my race bibs (yes, two bibs!), drop off drop bags, and catch up with some friends and fellow Californians (Bruce Nguyen and Roger Pynappel).

On Monday, May 3^rd, at 5:40 AM, I began my journey along with 29 other crazies (I was in the 5^th wave) in Black Canyon City, AZ. Before starting, I received my SPOT tracker, emptied the systems, took the obligatory pictures, and ran into a few notable people, including RD Steve.

Bruce Nguyen

Kerry Ward

Roger Pynappel

After spending the first couple miles connecting with Bay Area trail running legend and Zen guru, Bryan Paisley, I linked up with Canadian YouTuber Kerry Ward. Having followed him on various social media platforms for the past couple of years, I was interested to pick his brain regarding 200s, Youtubing, networking, and everything in between.

First Sunrise of Many

Only 255 to go!!

As Kerry and I ran, we wove our way through the saguaro cactus and slowly climbed higher and higher away from the base of the Sonoran Desert. Reaching the first aid station fairly quickly, we refilled all of our water containers and tried to maximize packing efficiency. The next section, from Cottonwood Creek to Lane Mountain, was over 22 miles with 8000+ feet climbing and 3500+ feet descending.

Cottonwood Creek Aid Station

The course description warned runners of high temperatures and profusely reminded us of the required minimum of 3L for this section. Yet, no amount of warning could have stopped the brutal carnage from occurring. While I thought I was being smart by bringing 4L to conservatively drink, I was, in fact, quite foolish.

 

We wound high into the pines, quickly leaving the cacti and javelinas behind. As it neared noon and the clouds departed, the sun bore down on us. All we could do was sweat and suffer. I later learned only one of the group of six runners I began this section with still had water in their pack when they reached the next aid station.

Beautiful Moutain Landscape

Heat kicking in

There were many slow miles filled with relentless climbing and technical doubletrack. Five miles to the second aid station, I completely ran out of water. In the next mile, I passed various groups of runners passed out in the trees, including both Ben Light and Coree Waltering. Desperate for water, I pulled water out of a muddy spring around mile 28 and pumped it full of iodine.

Somehow, I survived. Eventually, after being separated from all my newfound friends during the climb up Lane Mountain, I made it to the second aid station. After a quick fill-up and trading a few war stories, I cruised down to Crown King Aid Station to see my crew for the first time.

Coming into Crown King

While my legs enjoyed the downhill into Crown King, it also helped me quickly identify hotspots on the sides of my torso and shoulder regions. At Crown King, my crew helped me rectify these problems with KT tape and fill up on food, water, and night gear as we had another 34-mile stretch to complete on our own before seeing them again.

Leaving Crown King, I passed a few runners, including Kerry Ward and Ben Light, who were still in the aid station. The long road climb out of Crown King slowed me down as it was still quite hot and steamy. However, I knew nightfall would soon arrive.

Leaving Crown King

On this section, I connected with two runners: David Byrnes and Brian Janezic. As we chatted about Brian’s career in search and rescue and our training for this big endeavor, the miles rolled by. We also passed the legendary Pam Reed on this section and I made sure to congratulate her on her recent completion of one hundred 100 or mile longer races.

David and Bryan

The last couple miles of downhill and rolling road made for some ‘faster’ (it’s all relative) running into Battle Flat A/S at mile 50.4. Feeling pretty strong, I loaded up on salted potatoes, grabbed some fruit snacks, and bid farewell to David (he would go on to finish in a strong 104.5 hours).

The next section to Kamp Kipa was filled with the first of a ridiculous number of gates we had to Macgyver through. It also contained relentless and technical single-track climbing. I’m sure it would have been more fun to pass through this section during the day.

First Sunset

The carnage was real on this section. I saw many runners taking dirt naps and slowly death marching up the climbs. Luckily, I linked up with the indomitable Taylor Spike during this section who kept me moving strong. We both griped that we had grossly underestimated the difficulty of the first 100k or so. We finally reached a dirt road that we knew would lead us to the Kamp Kipa A/S in less than a mile.

At Kamp Kipa, we were joined again by Kerry Ward and this time by Witt Wisebram (who went on to finish a strong 4^th overall). I filled up on a special concoction I call “Chex mix soup” – a cup of Ramen soup with ground-up Chex mix. Taylor and I joined Kerry and Witt on the way out of the aid station and collectively enjoyed the six easy miles to Camp Wamatochick.

Leaving Camp W

I took a longer break here, filling up on Pirate’s booty and taking a 15-min nap. I left right before daylight and was peacefully enjoying the singletrack into Prescott when I heard some shout ‘Goooood Morning Santa’ and turned around to see Taylor and his pacer careening by (I never saw him again). The couple road miles into the Whiskey Row Aid Station at were super pretty in the early morning light and sunrise. It was nice to see residents out for morning walks and many cheered me on.

Hitting the Prescott Road Section

Sunrise in Prescott

Reaching Whiskey Row, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had once again caught up to Kerry. Jamil Coury, the founder and creator of the Cocodona 250, was also at the aid station when I was coming in. I filled up on a turkey and cheese sandwich and washed it down with some Fireball (c’mon, it was Whiskey Row for goodness sake).

At the station, I was briefly interviewed by one of the Aravaipa team members helping with the on-course interviews and footage. Aravaipa certainly took a novel approach with nearly 70 hours of livestream. It was fun to see the drones and cameras out on the course and it certainly motivated me to have a bit more pep in my step at some of the aid stations. I think I stuck out like a sore thumb by wearing my Santa Hat for the whole race.

Leaving Whiskey Row

I left Whiskey Row motivated and ran nearly the whole road section (maybe 5 miles or so) to where we meet the trails that wind around Watson Lake. Apart from Sedona, this was probably the most beautiful part of the course. We were treated to stunning rock formations plastered right up against shimmering blue water.

Watson Lake - Sooooo Pretty

Right before the serious rock section, I ran into Troy from Aravaipa again, who was helping with the live stream. He was so positive and encouraging and a great relief to see along the course at multiple points.

Throwing in a little bouldering

I took my time as we hit a quasi-bouldering section just to soak it all in. We climbed up and down these rock slopes, crossed a small creek, and viewed a pretty waterfall (albeit manmade). I leapfrogged with a few of the leading women during this section but ultimately let them go. Heating up in the early morning sun, I trudged along, completing the last few miles into Iron King on a dirt road. There were no more pretty rocks to draw me forward.

Road Out of Watson Lake

On the last pitch into Iron King, I was cheered on by Courtney Dauwalter, who was waiting to pace Jamil for a couple sections. It was a pretty neat experience to be cheered on by one of the preeminent female racers in the sport. After some Powerade and a quick change of socks, I was out of there hoping to build a bit of a buffer between myself and the racers behind me.

Leaving Iron King

To be honest, the next section into Fain Ranch was underwhelming. It was grassy, overgrown, and filled with cow dung. The most exciting part of this section was when three cows bluff charged me. I decided to give them a wide berth and probably took a 100-yard arc around their water trough. On this section, we also crossed through the first of a few tunnels out on the course. I was initially confused about where the trail went but after consulting with Gaia, I crossed under the road and found it a unique experience.

Twilight Zone

The heat of the day was coming in full force when I arrived at Fain Ranch, the Aid Station run by the Kogalla crew. I tried to eat some loaded mashed potatoes here, but nothing was really appetizing. Instead, I filled up on my go-to's (Hammer Gel & Sports Beans) and headed out of there after saying hi to Ben Light, who had unfortunately dropped out and was helping at the Aid Station.

Windmill leaving Fain Ranch

The trail slowly weaved through a river wash up to a dirt road. Within a couple miles we were on the single track climb up Mingus Mountain. The initial climb is at a manageable pitch but soon turned into a dirt wall. I had to take a number of breaks to recoup in the shade and spread some ice around my body to cool down.

Boiling on the way up Mingus

Two cool things to note about this section. I saw a couple old windmills, the likes of which are the logo for the Black Canyon race. I was also motivated by passing bib #1 on the climb. We were both struggling in the heat and I felt for her. The climb closed out with a couple miles on a gradually inclining dirt road. It felt like the Aid Station would never come.

More Windmills

At Mingus, my crew had some mac and cheese and nitro cold brew waiting for me which was a welcome sight. I took a longer break here trying to fill up on calories and recuperate from the tough previous section.

Coming into Mingus

Leaving Mingus, we were treated to some stunning views (one of those outlooks is where Howie Stern captured the photo of me below). The technical singletrack was complemented by gorgeous views of the valley ahead and the setting sun. I got into a groove on the downhill off Mingus which eventually turned into a fairly technical, but runnable dirt road.

Mingus Mountain

Singletrack coming off Mingus

As we reached the town which shall not be named (check the runner guide for more information), I linked up with Jose Sosa. While I noticed he had a bit of a limp, I didn’t realize how much of a badass he was at the time. I later learned that he had twisted his ankle in a cattle guard not long before and ran the next 120+ miles nursing a bum ankle. Certified legend if I do say.

After a quick break and a shot of rum at the town which shall not be named’s aid station, I headed out toward Dead Horse joined by pacer (my middle brother Miguel). After a quick jaunt on the road, we joined a barely walkable service road strewn with rocks for a couple miles. I saw my ass more times than I’d like to count on this section. One positive, however, is that we reached the halfway sign unceremoniously placed in the dirt here.

Santa and his elf ready to jam

A couple miles before Dead Horse, we cross the Verde River. We decided to take the shoes off to allow the feat some breathing room. The final couple miles into Dead Horse were difficult as some course vandal had decided it was a fantastic idea to rip the ribbons off the trees. Luckily, my brother guided me utilizing the Gaia app.

While happy to arrive at Dead Horse, I was quite exhausted. I ate a Sonic cheeseburger, chatted with Troy, and tried to take a 15-minute nap. When my crew woke me up, I honestly felt more tired than I had before I went to sleep. Fixing my feet and getting my pack set up was an hour-long ordeal. This was one of the lowest lows I felt during the whole race.

Dazed and Confused at Dead Horse Aid Station

Luckily, I had my brother to put a boot in my ass and get me out of the aid station. We made the next section a game by trying to stay in front of the headlamps behind us and catch the ones in front of us. The small 1000-ft climb to the next aid station at this point in the race felt like a true Everest expedition. Unfortunately, we went off course twice with poorly marked signage and gates. Eventually, after crossing through our second tunnel, we reached Deer Pass Trailhead A/S.

Tunnel Vision

I took an 8-minute nap in a chair and filled up on quesadillas before heading out. I knew this section would be grueling (it was the second-longest in the race), but I also knew it would be beautiful as I headed towards Sedona.

Powernaps for the win!

My goodness, it lived up to all the expectations. The weaving singletrack took us up, over, and around beautiful rock formations and red dirt hills. Right as the sun was coming up, I saw three hot air balloons rise into the sky. It was spectacular.

Hot air ballons at sunrise - so cool!

Buttery Sedona Singletrack

I ran out of steam near the end of this section as we looped around a towering rock structure coming into Sedona and was passed by a few runners. I just tried to soak it all in. I was basically running through a postcard.

View of Sedona from the Airport Loop

One more tunnel and a little bit of road running and we made it to Sedona. I was pooped. I decided I needed a good sleep as I had been running for more than 50+ hours on less than an hour of sleep. I dropped dead on a cot inside the church facilities for an hour and a half and enjoyed using a proper bathroom to clean myself up. After a large iced coffee from McDonald’s (I know, I know), I left the Aid Station.

Sedona Aid Station

Death on a cot

I had 20 miles to venture alone until I saw my crew again at Black Tank at Mile 180. The first 14 miles to Huntley tank were brutal and slow-going. The heat of the desert came back in full force and I struggled to eat. I was also trying to conserve my water which I knew was a partially futile effort. Luckily, Aravaipa had sent someone up with a cooler of ice about 9-10 miles into this section. My bandana full, I crawled along to Huntley Tank and made it right before running out of water.

Red Rock Running

I took some time to chat with the volunteers and recuperate at Huntley Tank. I believed I down about six cups of Coke, a couple Cuties, and a few ginger cookies. Here I met Mark Vogel, an absolute 200-mile stud with multiple finishes under his belt. We shared some miles over the next section and tried to fix his Gaia app, which was acting wonky. His poise and positive attitude lifted my spirits and before I knew it, I made it to Black Tank before nightfall.

Mark and I at the finish line

Dreading the climb up Casner Mountain, I took some time to fill up on food and take care of my chafing, both on my nether regions (maybe TMI) and my badly chafed lips. I ate a packed Sweet Onion Teriyaki 6-inch sandwich from Subway which helped stabilize me.

Black Tank Aid Station

My brother again joined me for the next 24 miles or so to Cinder Pitt. The climb up Casner was brutal, but at least the road was paved. It was a pretty sight seeing the headlamps wind up behind us. We took the time to turn off our headlamps and enjoy the full Arizona night sky. We also saw a long string of satellites cross the sky. We were initially worried, thinking it was a Chinese or Russian invasion or nuclear attack (just kidding lol), but we later found out it was Elon just doing his thing with Starlink.

Aid Station and a solitary headlamp behind us

I took my first trail nap during this section as I had gotten really sleepy and was moving at a snail’s pace. My brother’s presence really helped keep us moving along. It was a bit eerie running through the dark forest at night on a service road like two hooligans lost on a camping trip.

Finally, we made it to Turkey Butte. Upon arrival, they claimed they had the best potato soup and they did not disappoint. A cup of soup and a few brownies later, we were moving down the road to Cinder Pitt. Again, I got really sleepy and ended up having to take two trail naps during this section. I knew others must have been hurting though because we were only passed by Jesse Alexander who was moving at a good clip and making enough noise to scare away every bear on the Coconino plateau (I know because I was trying to sleep when he passed lol). At least we hit the 200-mile mark in this section. Yay!

At Cinder Pitt, a minor disaster struck. After trying to put down pancakes and tomato soup, my stomach completely shut down. It all came up shortly after and I knew I needed to take a gentler approach. I decided to pass on the Chicken Tortilla Soup my crew had prepared and take another hour and a half nap. This also allowed me to leave Cinder Pitt in the daylight.

Cinder Pitt with my brother (pre-upchuck of course!)

After waking up and consuming some calories to feel human again, I left the Aid Station with my ever-loving and powerful mom. This was a fantastic section. Not just because of the flowing single track. It was truly special to share 14 miles with my mom in the early morning of the fourth day of a 250+ mile race.

Leaving Cinder Pitt

Road out of Cinder Pitt

We had such a special time and took plenty of pictures. She helped me continue on at a reasonable pace and kept my spirits up. We reminisced on the last couple of days and shared war stories. It was truly special.

Enjoying our time together

Go Mom Go!

By the time I arrived at Fort Tuthill, I felt fantastic. I could finally smell the finish (only 37 miles away). My crew had essentially bought the full breakfast menu at McDonald’s and I shamelessly didn’t hold back. I plowed an Egg McMuffin, hash browns, and breakfast burritos into my face with a vengeance.

Arriving at Fort Tuthill

Egg Mcmuffin & Massage - Great Combo

I left the aid station feeling strong and plowed down a few miles of bike path and single track. Right where the course joined the Arizona trail, I began to run out of steam. I tried to eat trail mix (the only thing that sounded palatable at that point), drink water, and stay up on electrolytes. But nothing really worked. I was passed by Jesse Alexander and a few other racers during this section. It was nice to have some human contact.

Leaving Fort Tuthill - Humphreys in the Distance

Walnut Canyon Singletrack

A few miles out from the last crew-accessible aid station, I ran out of food and motivation. I deathmarched it in and vowed to take ample food for the last 20 or so miles. At Walnut Canyon, my crew hooked me up with another Sweet Onion Teriyaki 6-inch sandwich from Subway which I consumed quickly. I also ate a couple brownies.

I took my last real nap of the race here – fifteen minutes to calm the mind and body. After putting on my brother’s ‘Fat Dawg Runs Fat Dog’ shirt and my classic Stars and Stripes socks, and downing a Triple Shot Energy Drink, I headed out with a smile on my face and a few tears in my eyes.

Tripleshot in hand

I’d reached the point where I could sense the finish, but almost didn’t want it to come too fast. Part of me wanted this race to stretch on into the horizon, prolonging the time I could ignore day-to-day responsibilities and solely focus on my running.

Alas, I carried on toward Mount Elden. With Jason Koop in my ear and Nutella-flavored gels in my belly, I flew (at least I think so) on the single track to the base of Elden. The miles just rolled by and I enjoyed every one of them. We cross another tunnel under a highway and then ran over a bridge with oncoming traffic. I loved it!

One more freaking tunnel

Elden Looming in the distance

Hitting the base of Elden was like looking up the side of a concrete skyscraper. I believe the ~1.5 mile climb took me over an hour to complete. It was relentless – part bouldering, part super steep pitch single track. With a tired mind, I got turned around a couple times and lost the trail. I had to regain my senses and pull out Gaia numerous times on the ascent. It was brutal.

I eventually reached the saddle and boy I was glad to be there (even if the pictures do not show this lol). I turned back and saw the lights of Flagstaff below and knew I would soon be there. I ran nearly the whole mile or so of single track on the ridge to the last aid station and was blasted by howling winds for the last 100 meters or so. It was a perfect summit to cap off an epic race.

Flagstaff below

At the aid station, I was a guinea pig, being the first to try their sausage and tortilla roll-up thingies – not bad, not gourmet, probably somewhere in between. I chatted with the volunteers and Scott Rokis, one of the photographers, for quite a while trying to soak it all in. I didn’t want it to end.

Elden Aid Station

Leaving the Aid Station, Scott warned me he would be taking a flash photo of me. Luckily, he warned me. His ‘flash’ photo felt like a nuclear bomb to my depraved and diminished senses. After bidding him farewell, I charged down the single track until it met the Elden Lookout Road.

The miles on the road were lonely and long. I met one human soul – a volunteer who was driving up the road to the aid station. I trudged down that road in a dream-like state. I tried to take a few short naps, but I was too scared I would oversleep my alarm and my hip flexors were killing me. I decided it was probably smarter to just carry on to the finish.

A few miles from the finish, I crossed into Historic Buffalo Park. In my diminished state, the circle of eyes surrounding me freaked me the hell out. I convinced myself that I had been surrounded by a pack of wolves or coyotes ready to tear me to shreds. In fact, it was just a pack of curious deer who bolted away like Usain Bolt lookalikes when I clanged my poles at them.

North Star - One mile to go!!

Soon, I reached the roads of Flagstaff. I knew it was a mile and a bit from here to the finish. I took my time – partially because I was tired, partially because I wanted to savor every last drop of the race. Eventually, the turn came and I saw my brother and some volunteers cheering me on to run the last straightaway.

I turned on the gas (at least I attempted to) and finished with my signature cartwheel. I fell on my ass by the way, but that besides the point. I hugged my crew and tried to soak it all in. It truly had been a journey of a lifetime.’

 

Cathartic as hell

Bruce, Roger and I at the finish

Jose - bum ankle don't matter

Kaushik, Pradeep and I at the finish

Kaushik - this man is my hero!

Stats:

• Elapsed time: 91:10:29
• Place: 12th male, 14th overall

Postscript:

Matt and Rob from Aravaipa promised that cookies would be waiting for me at the finish line. While there were none when I finished at 2AM, they delivered the next day while I was hanging out at the finish line area. Thank you guys - it made completing the race really special!!

Matt and Rob

Mhmmm

Reflection:

I’m still trying to make sense of it all. Even writing this was difficult. It may seem long, but there was so much more I wanted to include. Yet, it’s difficult to put everything into words. Sometimes, I wanted to burst out in joyous laughter and start dancing. Sometimes I wanted to cry and haul myself under a rock and mark myself for slaughter.

These races are a truly unique experience. They bring you to the mountaintops, literally and figuratively, and bring you to the lowest of valleys. The key is enjoying the ride and not banking on one or the other as the end all be all. Because it’s not. Life, too, has its ups and downs. Ultimately, it’s up to us to embrace the wild ride and leave this world kicking and screaming. At least, that’s what I hope for myself.

Gratitude:

I really want to express my gratitude to my crew (my parents and brother) for crewing my sorry and sullen ass for 250+ miles. They deserve the belt buckle much more than I do. I also want to thank my brother and my mom for dragging me through parts of the course I would have completed much slower had it not been for their presence. And I want to thank my dad, who I knew would have run 100+ miles with me if only he wasn’t injured. Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank every volunteer, racer, crewperson, and Avaraipa team member that made this race possible. It was everything I hoped for and much more than I bargained for and for that, I thank you with utmost sincerity. 

I love my family