Racer D

2/14/2026 7:00am

I went to the desert in McInnis Canyons National Conservation Area (Fruita, CO) this past weekend for a 100 mile running effort, to grow as an individual and prove to my brain that the power of my soul can override it. I wanted to get 100 miles of continuous forward motion on my feet as a stepping stone to a long-term project I will attempt this coming summer, Nolan’s 14. I am pulled by Nolan’s 14 in a way I’ve never been pulled before, to ask my body to do something that seems impossible at first.

Nolan’s 14 is an individual challenge involving climbing, hiking, or running over 14,000-foot peaks in the Colorado’s Sawatch Range within a 60-hour cutoff. You can choose your own route, estimated to be between 88-106 miles with an elevation gain of approximately 44,000 feet. You must touch the peaks of all 14 of the 14ers in the range from Mt Shavano near Salida CO to Mt Massive near Leadville CO, traveling in either direction you choose. The route includes bushwacking and plenty of adventure.

I was a professional cyclist in my thirties, but retired earlier than my body was ready. Now in my 60’s, I still have that desire, always striving to push myself to my next limit, or if I have a limit, to find just what that limit is. I enjoying attempting the seemingly unobtainable. I respect the mountains, and I know she will reward those that are patient.

I didn’t know if I could make the full 100 miles, but I followed a consistent 16 week training program and showed up every day, even through three injuries that tested my limits on my high mileage weeks. Prior to this last block of training, the most miles I typically put in for a week was in the thirties. The 6 weeks before my scheduled run I had one week in the 50s, two weeks in the 60s and the fourth week in the 70s before tapering down the last two weeks.

As it got closer to my planned run, a community of running friends stepped up and offered their support. One of the founders of my local women’s running club (Salida Women’s Run Group), Caroline Glazer, mapped out a course that was beautiful, challenging, had over 10k elevation gain, and was in a place with mild February weather in Fruita, CO.

Eight wonderful humans gave up their weekend to spend time helping me accomplish my goal. Without them, it would not have been possible for me in this location. There were no water sources on course, so having aid stations to fill my hydration pack with nutrition and water was crucial. And as I found out, having pacers was also a tremendous help. I never knew what I was missing out on until I had them.

The temperature was 34 degrees as i toed the line that Mary drew in the dirt road for me. The sliver of moon was rising just ahead of the sun and it was gorgeous. The wind was next to nothing.

My grandson, Max, called my cell phone at 6:56am. An emotional uplift rose from within as I listened to him tell me he was attempting his first lead climb today at the rock climbing gym. He is 13, and the excitement in his voice transferred to me immediately. Charlie, 10, chimed in from the background wishing me luck and sending me love.

Even though I’ve been running since the age of 14, and have many marathons, ultra marathons, trail runs, and multi-day adventure races under my belt, stepping into the unknown of your first 100-miler (going non-stop without sleep) still left a doubt in my mind of whether I could accomplish the distance without feet issues, or other muscle related issues.

My watch rolled over to 7am, and I headed out on the first 25 mile loop to the Olympic theme song (Mary had playing on her phone for me) and cheers from Johnan, Mary & the pups. I’ve always been motivated by the Olympic spirit, and today was no different.

I was only on a dirt road briefly, before turning off onto a single track loop that quickly became technical and more difficult to run as it rose up, then down, then up, then down again, weaving and switchbacking a path through the rocky desert terrain.

It quickly heated up, making me shed my jacket. My pace bounced with the terrain from 11 minute miles to 15 minute miles to 13s, to 14s, to 12s and more 15s. I was all over the place and and eventually I reached the end of the technical section.

Johnan and Mary were able to access my intersection with the road at mile 6 to replenish my pack. From here, the trail became much easier to run as the surface changed to a powdery sand that was soft to my feet.

The desert was quiet as I ran. I caught my first glimpse of the Colorado River and the colorful canyon walls that would become frequent sights for the remainder of this section.

Three miles later, I heard voices yelling somewhere in the distance.

They were up above me and could easily see me on the trail below. Johnan, Mary and the pups had hiked in backwards on the 3-4 mile loop I was on, and ran with me to the finish of this section which passed back by the truck.

I ran on to mile 17.6 where they once again hiked in to meet me and refill my pack.

I continued on along the rim of the canyon with the Colorado River constantly carving its path through the canyon walls. I weaved in and out of the side canyons on the trail, enjoying the views and tranquility. The vastness of it was overwhelming, and I seemingly had the canyon and desert to myself.

To finish the first 25 mile loop, I climbed up and over the hills separating the canyon terrain from the main road where I had access to the truck again. Here I saw the rest of my crew for the first time and traded my tights for shorts. This was the start of my first mileage with a pacer, and Jennis joined me for the next 13 miles.

The first half of this 13 miles section went back up and over the same hills in order to get down into the canyon itself and cross a small bridge over a tributary. There were cows prints, and marshy sections and willows and spots within the willows where animals had bedded down. I noted this was quite possibly going to be a scary section at night.

We climbed back up and out eventually made our way back to the slowly rolling road that seemed like it would go on forever. We ran by Fluffle Campground. What’s a Fluffle I wondered?

This section was hard for me; I’m not sure if it was the straightness of the road or the fact I could no longer see the river. Jennis filled the time chatting to me about all things in life, and I chatted back. We told each other stories, not fictional, but real life stories. I ate a few nerd clusters that I had requested she carry because normally, they are awesome. However, my stomach was starting to lose interest in food and it is quite possible this was the beginning of a calorie deficit.

Seeing the truck in the distance with the hills in the background was something right out of a commercial for Ford. The pups were out and about to greet us at this aid station, and Johnan replenished my pack. Jennis kept me laughing and paced me safely to mile 37 where Angie would take over for the next 14 miles.

Angie was blessed to have the sunset pacing section, and it was a spectacular one. We ran past a big rock, out of place amongst everything else.

The sunset sent us into the desert night with a warm glow. Soon, a sky full of stars and constellations enveloped us. More stories followed. I think I managed to eat three nerd clusters on this section that Angie was carrying, and maybe some gels, but I don’t remember much other food during this time. We told each other about our lives, little things and big things, all true, and we talked about what I wanted to eat at the 51 mile turnaround station.

Johnan was following behind us in the truck and to my amazement, followed us down a cliff dropoff that for the life of me I can’t figure out how she did. I took a video of the rocky face on my way back after the turn around but it hardly does it justice since you can’t see the truck bouncing down it.

During one of our stories, I missed my turn on the trail, and once we realize we are going backwards on the loop, we stop to decide what to do. I decided to continue on backwards and just reverse this loop rather than backtracking. Angie agrees and we run on.

It was a welcome site to see Caroline climbing out of some brush at mile 51 to show us the bushwacking way to get from the road, across the railroad tracks, and over to the fire at Ashley & Reid’s campsite. Normally this type of stuff is fun (bushwacking), but I was tired and ready for soup. Looking back, this was definitely a highlight of the course, but at the time, I just trudged through it.

After pushing our way through the last of the branches, I could see the fire Ashley & Reid had built. I got to sit down for the first time on a luxury campsite couch/chair, and cover up with a blanket in front of the fire while eating the Ramen noodle soup they had heated up for me. But not for long, as they told me I should keep moving before I got too comfortable.

So back through the same bushwacking bushes we tromped, across the tracks, and set our sites for the Western Rim, the most beautiful and spectacular section of the course. If only there were daylight and we could see.

But no worries, Caroline kept my imagination running with what it “might possibly” look like, had there not of been the vast darkness we saw as we peered down below the rim. I struggle to stay awake at night, so Caroline began the game of asking me questions, letting me chat, laughing, listening to me comment on random things, and just checking on my health in general for any little niggles I might have that could turn into something worse if left unattended.

There was plenty of goofy, silly stuff I said during this 25 mile segment, but some of the highlights are here:

• Me “This trail looks like the yellow brick road, only it’s white and surrounded by sand. “
• Me, “I’m seeing yellow streaks and flashes.” Caroline, “Oh don’t worry, that’s just a sign of exhaustion; they’ll go away.”
• Me, “What’s that hair doing on the trail?” Caroline, “That’s not hair, it’s tree bark.” Me, “From what tree?” Caroline, “Uh, the one right next to you.” Maybe there was a “ghost barber” out here.
• Me, “Fluffle Campground; what’s a fluffle?” Caroline, “I don’t know, giggle giggle.” I looked it up when I got home – A fluffle is a group of wild rabbits, native to the area we are traveling through in Rabbit Valley.
• Caroline, “Kathy, why isn’t your light on?” (after 30 minutes of non-existent light coming from me). Me, “I don’t know…” (we determined my battery had burned out and fortunately Caroline was carrying a backup battery for my particular waist light).
• Caroline, “Are you cold?” Me, “I don’t know.” Caroline, “Well I’ll check back in a few minutes.” Caroline “You are shivering, let’s stop and put on your jacket.” Me, “OK.”
• Caroline, “How are your feet?” Me, “My left heel hurts.” Caroline, “For how long?” Me, about 45 minutes before I told you.” Caroline, “OK, let’s stop at the next truck aid from Johnan and I’ll look at it.” Me, “OK.” Caroline (a few minutes later), “How’s your foot now?” Me, “I still feel it.” Caroline, “Actually then, let’s stop at the next rock and let me look at it.” Me, “Ok.”
• Me, “Oh, did you see that long worm on the ground, or snake?” (now moving backwards to inspect closer). Caroline, “It’s not, trust me, it’s not.” Me, “But it’s moving, see it moving? Looks like a worm.” Caroline, “No, it’s not moving, I promise.” Me, upon further inspection and picking it up, “Oh, it’s a wire with a loop at the end.”
• Me, randomly when feeling especially slow, on one of the 30 second walking sections after the 30 second running section, “I wish…I was as fast as Devon Yanko.” (she had just finished a 100-miler in New Zealand in 20 hours and won). “I would already be done.” But I suppose if I were that fast and done, I would have missed all the fun stuff to come!

We stopped at the next rock to look at my heel. It has a small red spot getting irritated. Caroline taped it and I put my shoe back on and we are off again. That was totally worth the 5 minutes, as my foot never hurt again. We did check it to make sure the tape was holding up at the next aid station, and added tape to my right big toe where a long standing callous was now forming a small blister underneath. That was all the foot care I needed for the entire 100 miles. Our good luck charm was carrying a ginormous shoe horn that Haley had loaned us for putting my shoes back on in case my feet were swollen. Fortunately, that was never needed.

And near 4am, I had to poop for the first time. Of course, it happens in the most barren part of the desert, with no trees or scrub brushes to squat behind. Never the less, a few minutes later we were on our way and I felt better to have that behind me.

We got back on the single track and the low part of the canyon where the bridge was and the cows I dreaded that might be hiding in the marsh brush. Turns out the ground freezes at night, and what was mushy before was now solid as a rock, and there were no cows in sight or earshot. It was uneventful other than the train we saw from a distance, mistaking it at first for Johnan’s headlights.

Me, “How on earth did she get down here? Oh, wait, it’s a train.”

Too soon, the night was over, and we rolled into mile 76 aid station where I picked up Mary as my pacer. It was dawn now, but even though Caroline kept promising me that “Sunrise Kathy” would be a faster runner, I wasn’t feeling those “sunrise vibes” yet.

As beauty goes though, it was another spectacular morning, and I knew the sun would warm my soul and add some pep to my step. Even though I knew this last 25 mile loop would be hard (it was the same technical loop I started with), it would be fun to at least “feel” I knew the way and talk to Mary about what was coming our way.

Mary kept me on task, running “x” amount of steps and walking “x” amount of steps. Often, the “x” was dictated by the terrain. More “x’s” when it was flat and sandy and less “x’s” when it was technical and non-runnable or rocky. We carved our way through the canyons one beautiful section at a time, with Johnan and the pups meeting us at all the same places as the first loop.

I received warm chicken noodle soup, and within 30 minutes, my stomach had re-engaged with my body, and was throwing off large signals for food and calories. It was growling, and I began to eat everything in site.

Later, at one of the aids, Angie & Jennis who both ran with me the day before joined back in as pacers with Mary. The three together renewed my energy and if nothing else, I felt like our progress was picking up steam.

And with 7 miles to go, a new high point came over me when Johnan hiked in with the pups, and Mary’s phone started playing “(And My Money don’t) Jiggle Jiggle.” Caroline ran down the hill in her flippers with Jesse in tow; we all stopped for a full-on dance party in the desert.

And no sooner did I have my highest high, then I had my lowest low, when Jennis & Angie said they would see me at the finish. My brain had convinced my body that everyone was running to the finish with me for the last 7 miles. I didn’t realize they didn’t have food or water, and they said I looked so sad as I shuffled off into the distance.

However, Mary quickly put me back to work with the task at hand, and we went back into “shuffle mode” only this time it was more of a “finish mode.” I knew we would get it done, and my spirits immediately returned. I was immersed in the scenery and the ancient formations that looked like women’s colorful dresses to me.

I moved with purpose now, and knew exactly where we were and what small amount was left. We climbed up and over the hill one last time to drop down to the road where we met the rest of my crew. I could hear them yelling in the distance and knew we were close!

I could see Johnan and the pups at the finish and the last 1/2 mile was the fastest pace I had run since mile 40. I brought it in to the line with my crew cheering me on. With that ripping fast pace, it’s no wonder Jennis dropped her kazoo on the ground (lucky not to spoil my surprise for later since I thought it was a vape that she was trying to keep secret).

So much FUN and my biggest supporter was there for me to lean on, Johnan! And then an unexpected welcoming committee complete with singing, mandolin (Caroline), kazoo (not a vape – Jennis) & ukulele (Angie)! Please play your G-String for me! Ashley & Reid had fabulous beers for those who needed it, me included. Jesse provided untold amounts of driving crew around, and Johnan, well, she stayed up pretty much the entire time driving as much of the course as possible to keep my pack replenished (other than maybe two hours of waiting at intersections where she couldn’t drive).

What a great way to end a remarkable 101.45 miles in 31hours, 49 minutes, and 25 seconds. I just LOVE the community we have in Salida CO. They showed up for me and didn’t even blink an eye about it. We are truly better as a team. Many thanks to Johnan, the Salida Women’s Run Group (Caroline Glazer, Jennis Warren, Angie Morrison, Mary Kitzig, Ashley Parnau) and partners Jesse & Reid. Much gratitude also to 7000k Running Store for all the help and support you have given me since I moved to Salida. I ran in my Mount to Coast H1 shoes the entire time with no issues.