Trail Running Canada Magazine – Javelina Jundred Review

(November 2014 – Phoenix, AZ) – Javelina Jundred: A long way from the mountains

It’s a week since Javelina Jundred, and as I type I’m wearing slippers, ski socks and a hoodie. There is horizontal snow outside. The dog is watching me closely, wondering why the family has ceased their obsessive running adventures, and The Weather Network calls for a high of -9 in but two days’ time. Playing Russian roulette with a low of -18. As an amnesiac ultra-runner I would happily go back in time to the land of lost toenails, pulsating knees and the heat of the dreaded desert…

The final Western States Qualifier of 2014. A pre-winter vacation to the sun. A flat, lapped course manageable with drop bags. And the lure of an epic ultra-party and a 100 mile belt buckle. When you put it like that it is clear why Javelina Jundred is on many a runners’ bucket list and why it sees a lot of returning ultra-running (amnesiacs) year after year. This year there were 511 100 mile starters, and 288 finishers. A 56% success rate, in desert heat, running around in circles.

Javelina Jundred has been around for a while, but a few years back was taken over by the Coury brothers, Jamil and Nick. And a fantastic job they do. Regardless of the fact you are running around in circles, quite literally, it’s full of life, charm, adventure and all things Halloween. Taking place this year the day after Halloween, it was not my usual day-after-Halloween level of activity, but it was something to remember. Costumes galore, the most amazing trophies I’ve ever seen and an atmosphere to rival any Halloween party I’ve been to. Think the organisation of the Olympics, but with the charm and quirkiness of a local club race. One which serves pumpkin pie at aid stations that is.

Javelina Jundred is 100km or 100miles. With only the 100miles being a Western States Qualifier, it’s got its draw. However it also throws a potentially huge game-changer into the mix, giving you the option of dropping from your mind and leg beating 100miles after lap 4, whilst still securing you a 100km belt buckle. Going into it, aside from feeling fairly underprepared and nervous about the heat threats, this was my biggest “Oh God”. As someone who has nil restraint on a number of topics, I was pretty sure this was going to be an issue. As it turns out, it was the least of my worries.

As Javelina Jundred novices, my husband Mike and I were excited to leave the somewhat blah weather of Fernie BC, and travel to the paradise of Arizona. Last year we’d run the R2R2R around the same time of year and it was spectacular. We hoped for a similar spectacle, just a slightly longer one with less photo ops, sightseeing and good chat. Although as races go, this excelled in the latter, with a plethora of racers, volunteers and bystanders cheering us on and keeping us going. Luckily, in some sort of twisted fashion, you got to see a lot of the same people 6 times over. That’s one way to secure friends.

With a start time of 6AM for the 100 miles, we booked a tent at Javelina HQ. A wise move for sure, and one I’d suggest to anyone flying or wanting an easy start to race day. It meant you could fall out the tent door and hit the start line. The issue then was to wipe the fact a comfy bed was but a hop, skip and not even a jump away, as you ran past your tent door time and time again. But once we were off, it was all relaxed jostling and eerily muted chat, with all 511 of us forgetting about our tents and focussing on Lap 1. Excitement was in the air, along with the smell that only a warm climate emanates. Headlamps were on, but not for long. The immense desert sky stretched for miles and soon enough you could see the sandy, generally hard-packed, twisty trail ahead.

As we came close to the end of Lap 1, the leaders were heading back towards us, on the ‘washing machine’ loops, giving us the chance to see some ass-kicking runner’s power their way towards us, including the amazing Tarahumara. Lap 1 flew by, 25km, check. Lap 2, Mike and I set off together and soon had a reality check. It still felt great, we were cruising and the temps were on the Canadian chart of manageable. However, with very little elevation and an entirely runnable course, we were somewhat stumped as to when to break into a walk. There was no way either of us could run a 100 miles at 10.5km an hour. We live in a valley surrounded by mountains, where it’s impossible to go for a flat trail run, invariably involving a hike. So it threw an entirely different challenge into the mix, as we both trotted along wondering when to walk, and how to play our hand. Seems we weren’t alone, as the ever cheerful Gordy Ainsleigh, was overheard to have said himself, “I’m not sure why I set out so fast like I was young”. We may be a few decades apart, but it seems we weren’t the only ones suffering from a severe case of the positive split.

Not sure why we worried, as by the end of Lap 2 I was approximately 1 million degrees and the desire to go anywhere very fast had melted. That smell of warmth turned to the smell of burning, whilst my body temp seemingly rose by the minute. My temperature rose further by the number of runners declaring how lucky we were with the weather this year, as the previous year by all accounts would have positively killed me and my Scottish heritage. I’d have punched them on their tanned, sun loving complexion, had I not been so hot. And was going to see them a further 4.5 times. I hoped.

From there on in, it was a different race entirely. I managed to take on board calories in liquid form only and shuffled uncomfortably from one porta-potty to another. You get the picture. This game changing issue did however instill in me some sort of primeval instinct to make it ‘til dark, spurred on by some lovely individuals who had dragged a cooler of Mr. Freezies out into the desert, handing them out to needy runners as they passed by on Lap 4. A small moment of hallelujah and the realisation darkness would fall on the next Lap. As a Brit, living in a country of bears, cougars and other terrifying creatures I’ve never been so excited to run at night. And whilst others donned jackets, I was simply stoked. If slightly sizzled and slow. I also made a promise to my weary body, that if I finished, I’d never have to do another 100 miler. This deal went a long way towards sanity and success.

Laps 5 and 6 were uneventful. Despite the fact that a trail which should be so familiar by now, seemed different each Lap to the extent I was sure I was lost on a number of occasions. Small rocks hurt my feet like hell, and I came to the conclusion I’d take wet feet over hot, sweaty socks any day when it comes to toe manageability. But after a swift bit of toe surgery involving scissors and duct tape, I was in once piece and ready to set out on Lap 7, a short Lap which set off on the usual route, but which then took a hard right towards the lights of tented paradise. Not a moment too soon, as I jolted down a slight decline checking my watch by the second, all the way home. In a slightly overly-tired delirious way I laughed out loud, as I realised this new section of trail, which I predicted myself to be so excited to reach during my mental games, was a million times worse than the old faithful laps I’d endured for the last 20hrs. Go figure.

But the finish line was there, as promised, 100miles from where we’d begun, in the very same place I’d left it 20hrs 37mins and 39seconds prior. Many of the same cheering faces were still there cheering, as were many familiar racers I’d seen out on course – unknown trail partners with whom I’d shared parts of the past day of adventure with. Big smiles and small knowing gestures, to acknowledge each other’s’ accomplishments. And a 100mile belt buckle, my first and according to my personal chat at the end of Lap 4, my last. Although since it is a Western States Qualifier, there’s no harm in entering the lottery, right? Yeah, we’ll see…

Hugest thanks to Trail Runner Magazine and The North Face for allowing me to be BC’s TNF Trail Running Ambassador this year. It’s be a rollercoaster of a race season, but a great opportunity and experience. And, as it is puking snow, it’s time to rest the running shoes for a little while and get stoked on some skiing…