Arizona Monster 300 is a 304.4 mile point to point trail race from Superior, AZ to Patagonia, AZ with an elevation gain of 40,943’ and loss of 40,642’.  The race started on April 4th and had a 170 hour cutoff.  Arizona Monster is the first 300 mile point to point race, at least that I am aware of, and this year, 2025, was the inaugural race.  

Being the inaugural year, there were many bumps along the way.  To say some parts were a shit-show would not be an exaggeration.  I went in with the expectation that things would not go smoothly.  My hope and expectation is that the race will evolve and improve.  

When Arizona Monster 300 was first announced, I decided to sign up.  It was the longest race I have ever signed up for, so I was both excited and nervous about what running an additional 50 miles would be like.  The longest race I ran before AZ Monster was 250 miles.

I ran Monster without a crew or pacers, like I have done at my other 200+ mile races.  I finished the race in 114 hours 00 minutes 15 seconds.  During that time, I lost about 12 pounds, slept a little over 7 hours, wore one pair of shoes and one set of clothes, may have drank more lemonade than ever in my life, experienced little to no hallucinations, heard too many voices in my head, and never lost my ability to see.  While there were many aspects of the race that I did not enjoy, I am incredibly grateful for the experience and for all the awesome people I reconnected with and with the new ones I met on this journey.

Going into Monster, I set 3 different goals.  First, finish the race.  There were a lot of unknowns in this race, so I wanted to be real with myself that finishing this race was not a given and it would be difficult.  My goal was to finish in 140 hours and a stretch goal to finish in 120 hours. 

I am so happy with my performance at the race.  Not only did I finish in 114hr 00min 15sec, beating my stretch goal by about 6 hours, but I also finished in the top 10% of runners in a race with a ~30% DNF (did not finish) rate.  I am proud of myself for running my own race.  I paced myself conservatively early on.  I stuck to my “plan”, even when it appeared that I was in the last pack of the race. 

Like many of my other race reports, this will be about my view point and experience.  Since this was the inaugural Arizona Monster 300 race, I am sure there will be changes made to the race in the future.  If you are looking for specific details on the race or course, check out the current version of the Runner’s Manual.  It will give you much better, more detailed information than I could. If you plan to run Arizona Monster 300 and have questions or looking for tips, feel free to reach out to me.

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A Couple of Quick Race Stats

Arizona Monster 300 is a race put on by Destination Trail.  It describes itself as,

The Arizona Monster is a 309 mile point to point journey through Southern Arizona’s Sonoran desert. The Sonoran desert is unique, in that it has subtropical warmth in winter and two seasons of rainfall. This creates an extreme contrast between aridity and moisture supporting diverse and vibrant flora and fauna. The route is rugged, challenging, and features some of Southern Arizona’s most iconic backcountry terrain and high elevation mountains.

Elevation Profile (from my race tracker)

• 304.4 Miles
  • 2025 race had a couple of course changes that reduced the mileage
• 170 hour cutoff
• Elevation Gain: 40,943’ 
• Elevation Loss: 40,642’
• Surface Distribution:
  • 84% single-track
  • 10% paved bike path
  • 3% paved road
  • 2% dirt road
• 19 Aid Stations
  • 12 with Drop Bags
  • 8 with Sleep Areas

Preparation: Training, Spreadsheets, Notes, etc.

Goals:

I had 3 tiered goals for this race:

1. Finish in under 120 hours (5 days).
2. Finish in under 140.
3. Finish the race

Training:

My training plan for this race was fairly straightforward. After a short recovery following the 2024 Cocodona 250, I maintained a higher weekly mileage base. At the beginning of 2025, I shifted my focus specifically toward training for Monster. I ramped up both my weekly mileage and my leg strength work in the gym. My running routine centered around a minimum of 50 miles per week, with the bulk of the miles stacked on Saturdays and Sundays. Every few weeks, I aimed to gradually raise my weekly mileage floor. Eventually, I was running close to marathon distance on both Saturday and Sunday. If I had to sum up my approach, it would be: “Run on tired legs.

As I usually do, I cut out alcohol; this starting in about December 2024.  I did make an exception for a drink of Groundhog Day Special Edition Whiskey.  I also cut out the majority of unhealthy snacks, sticking to fruits and nuts when I needed a midday calorie boost. Lately, I cut caffeine about 3 weeks before the race.

The plan was going great until I injured my hamstring.  Which started my tapering  about one week earlier than planned.

Preparation:

In preparation for Monster, I printed out the runner’s manual, made it into a nice notebook/folder, and copied all my spreadsheets from Cocodona 250 2024.  This made life a lot easier in terms of preparation and planning.  Unfortunately, I could not remember what I didn’t use and could cut from the plan.  Based on the information, here was my basic race plan.

Race Plan:

• Bag Strategy:
  • 11 Drop Bags + 1 Finish Line Drop Bag
  • All Bags had:
    • Change of socks
    • Blister Kit
    • Batteries
    • Buffs
    • Various food & fuel
    • Disposable toothbrush
  • Caffeine options and Red Bull starting Catalina (158 miles in)
• Sleep Plan:
  • Grand Enchantment: Mile 45
  • Mt. Lemmon: Mile 128
  • Gabe Zimmerman: Mile 223
  • Casa Blanca: Mile 288

Drop Bag Challenges: 

One of the biggest challenges in planning the dropbags for this race was the distance between aid stations, dropbags, and sleep stations.  The first dropbag was 45 miles into the race.  This meant that I needed to be prepared to carry the calories I needed for the first 45 miles, just in case the aid stations did not have what I needed.

Side note: I did not notice they added dropbags to Pistol Hill until I was at the race.  At the time I seriously considered taping my info to a can of Red Bull and leaving that as my Pistol Hill dropbag, but decided against it.

The average distance between dropbags was 25.4 miles and the median distance was 24.9 miles.  I really needed to make sure my bags had what I may need for the next 25 miles.  Since there were no moving dropbags, I had to think about which 2 sleep bags to add my blankets to and what to do for the other sleep bags.

Pre-Race

I flew into Phoenix, AZ, on Wednesday, April 2, two days before the start of the race.  I picked up last minute race items and some medical supplies for post race care.  I used the drive from Phoenix to Tuscan as an opportunity to learn more about the race and course from the “Distance to Empty” podcast.  There were a couple of the takeaways from the Arizona Monster 300 preview episode:

• The section down from Mt. Lemmon would be rough.
• The course will feel pretty monotonous.
• Paraphrasing something Chad said, “If I am going faster than 20 minute mile, I am doing pretty well.”  I really liked that idea and decided to incorporate it into my run.  With my stretch goal, if I am moving faster that 20 minute mile than I am doing pretty well for myself.

I spent Wednesday afternoon and evening preparing my dropbags, checking my supplies and relaxing.

Thursday, April 3, I drove down to Patagonia for race check-in, medical check, gear and GPX check, mugshots, and dropbag dropoff.  I had a hotel room in Patagonia less than 5 minutes from the finish line and morning shuttle location.  

That night I had a dinner of rice and beans and pasta seasoned with a little bag of salt I bought from a local market.  I prepped my feet, laid out my gear, and had a very early bedtime.

Day 1: Waiting & Down Time > Race Time

I had to be at the finish location at 5:30am in order to take the shuttle to the start line.  It was a chilly morning waiting for the shuttle to arrive.  I ran into some race friends and ended up chatting with them and some strangers for a bit. One of the most common discussion topics was which starting group everyone was in.  They had decided to stagger the start times into 4 groups, leaving on the hour starting at 11am.  The longer your expected race time, the earlier you started.  I was in Group 2, starting at 1pm.  

When the shuttle arrived, we were all pleasantly surprised to see it was a charter bus, not a school bus with vinyl seats which is what we all were expecting.  They had three buses so there was plenty of space for each runner to have their own row if they wanted.  Some of the runners had blankets and pillows and used the 3 hour ride to get some extra sleep.  

Another unexpected surprise, the buses stopped about halfway there at a location with Starbucks, McDonalds, and a breakfast restaurant.  Most of the runners hit up Starbucks for a coffee and snack.  

We arrived at the starting location a little after 9am,which was about 2 hours before the start of the first group and about 4 hours before I started.  I found a place to sit and chill while waiting for the groups to start.  Most runners were chatting about their starting groups and which previous 200+ races they had done.

As usual, I ran into friends I made at previous races, some I knew were coming and others I did not.  I also got to meet Brent Drake in person, a fellow ultra runner that lives just outside Austin, TX.  It is always such a pleasure to run into these friends and catch up on what they have been up to and what races they have coming up.  A real special bond exists between all of us based on the unique, hard, and weird experience that only comes from a 200+ mile race.  There were lots of hugs and “you’ve got this” shared that morning.  

My favorite pre-race moment came from Mike Groenewegen.  Mike picked up a full platter of sandwiches from the food table and sat down across from me.   I thought, “Damn, is he really going to eat all those sandwiches before the race?  That is like an ultra before an ultra.  I need to see this.”  It was only after he finished the first sandwich on the platter that he realized he took the whole platter.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me I took the whole platter?”  Mike asked.
“Honestly, I thought you were going to eat it.  And I kind of wanted to see that.” I replied.  

After a bit more catching up with friends and chatting with other runners, it was my time to do the final gear check and line up in the corral.  I sent a quick text to AJ, my wife, before “going dark”.  In a world where I am always connected, these races are an opportunity to disconnect from the digital and fully exist and immerse in the physical.  As I was waiting and stretching in the corral, I took a moment to reflect on what was ahead of me.  I took a deep calming breath and told myself to “be water.”  I was ready for this race.  I was excited.

After starting my day about 9.5 hours earlier, it was almost time to start.  Candice gave us some quick instructions and had us repeat the Runner’s Oath before the countdown began.  “3, 2, 1” and we were off.

I started off with a faster pace than I wanted, but I was excited.  I had not run in a couple of weeks and decided I needed this.  I let myself run at a quick pace for the first mile before slowing down. 

It didn’t take long before a group of us took a wrong turn.  While we were quick to correct our mistake, it did raise concerns for me about the course markings and how much I would have to rely on the GPX tracker. 

Six and a half miles in, I hit Picket Post, the first aid station.  We were told to take the opportunity to fill up our water since the next section was over 22 miles long with no water and that there was a 1.5 liter limit on water we could fill at Gila River, the next aid station.  

The section between Picket Post and Gila River was hot and dry and the first, but not only, time I was concerned about running out of water.  Previously at Cocodona 250, I developed a water rationing system that works very well for me.  I take 2-3 sips of water every half mile.  This wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  My mouth would dry out about 1 to 2 minutes after taking a sip.  I remained disciplined and stuck to my plan.

Once the sun started to set and the temperatures cooled, my need for water reduced.  It felt weird to have the sun set so soon after starting an ultra.  I made a pretty quick stop at Gila River aid station.  My plan and goal was to make it to Grand Enchantment, 45.4 miles.  It was the first dropbag and sleep station.  I knew from my experience, it is best for me to sleep sometime between the hours of 11pm and 4am.  The next dropbag and sleep station was Freeman, 75 miles.  Sleeping at  Freeman would mean running through the night and sleeping during the day, situations I wanted to avoid, especially on day 1.

It was around 2:00am when I reached the Grand Enchantment aid station.  It was chaos.  Since this was the first aid station with dropbags and a sleep station, most runners were stopping here.  The staggered start where slower runners started earlier created a situation where a lot of runners would show up at the aid station around the same time.  

Grand Enchantment was under staffed, under prepared, and under equipped for the flood of runners.  I prepared myself for the possibility of having nowhere to sleep.  When I got into the aid station, there was hardly space for all the runners.  I asked for some hot vegan food and the only thing they had was pasta.  The volunteer quickly scooped a spoonful of the pasta into a cup with some of the pasta water.  There were no utensils left, so I did my best to “drink” the pasta.  The combination of overcooked pasta and warm pasta water was terrible, but at least it was calories.  The volunteers were doing their best given the situation and the chaos.  I am super thankful for them and the work they did at the aid station. 

I got my dropbag and went looking for a spot to sleep.  Luckily, I found an empty space in one of the tents.  There were already 3 runners sleeping in the tent, one on a cot and 2 on the ground on yoga mats.  The empty spot had a deflated air sleeping pad that looked like it was 5 feet long (I am 6 foot tall), a wool blanket, and a fleece blanket.  The wool blankets are itchy and stiff, but will help you keep warm.  I did my best not to disturb the sleeping runners.  I put the wool blanket on the ground and covered myself in the blanket I packed in my dropbag and the fleece blanket.  Even though I really wanted to avoid sleeping in my socks and jacket, I knew it was going to be the only way to hopefully stay warm.  I removed my shoes, set an alarm, and closed my eyes.  My goal was to leave the aid station no later than 5am.

I tried my best to sleep.  Due to the freezing temperature and lack of sufficient ground insulation, I could not stop shivering from the cold.  When I was able to calm my shivering and doze off, I would violently shiver and end up waking myself back up.  My best guess is that I slept for about 30 minutes.  Eventually, I accepted that I wasn’t going to sleep.  I was just too cold.  I pulled the blanket over myself and dropbag to make a little blanket tent, turned on my headlamp, and prepared to leave.   Under my little blanket tent, I changed my socks, restocked the fuel in my pack, and put on my shoes.

When I exited the sleep tent, the aid station was way less chaotic with only a few runners around.  It was clear the station was very low on most supplies.  As I dropped my bag off on the used bag pile, I could see how many people had already been through this station.  A quick glance at the unused dropbag pile showed only a handful of runners had not come in.  I knew this meant I was at the back of the pack.  This realization, in addition to the lack of sleep and food, depressed my mood.  I was tempted to go out too fast to try to make up time or catch up to the other runners.  I took a deep breath and told myself, “Run your own race.”  I checked my watch, I was leaving the aid station right at 5am, just as I planned earlier. 

Day 2: Erotic Cactii and the Spaghetti Bowl Trail

As I started on day 2, I reminded myself, as long as I was above mile 61 before 1pm I was on track for my stretch goal.

My stretch goal was finishing in under 120 hours or 5 days.   That meant I needed to cover an average of 61 miles a day, or every 24 hours.  On ultras, your pace is hard to predict.  Meaning you generally slow down as the race goes on and that does not account for the added time it takes to complete the big climbs on the course.

As the sun and temperature rose, so did my energy and my pace.   “Not too fast, not too slow.  Under 20 minute pace means I am doing well,” I told myself even though I was well under a 20 minute pace.  

Day 2 is when the Arizona Monster 300 really began to define itself for me.  I realized that the only hot vegan food I could consistently rely on at the aid stations was instant oatmeal.  The good news is that not only do I like oatmeal, but also they had a variety of flavors and it was very easy to eat, especially if it was extra watery.  The landscape was pleasant and felt remote, but it was also monotonous.  Being at the back of the pack meant I was on my own.  On my own, with very little sleep and nothing to occupy my mind. 

When I talk to people about ultra distance races, especially point to point races, you need to be comfortable being by yourself.  Some people will listen to something, like music or podcasts, to fill that void.  I choose to embrace it, to give into whatever my mind decides to do to fill in the void.  Practicing meditation over the years has helped me to embrace and enjoy these times.

The thing is, my mind is predictably unpredictable.  For instance, I know that some song will pop into my head and stay with me for nearly the entire race.  I have no control over the song or the ability to change it.

On day 2, a song started playing in my head.  

Snowflakes that fall on my nose and eyelashes.
…
Whiskers on kittens
Mittens on kittens
…
These are a few of my favorite things

“Really!?!” I thought, “this is the song playing in my head.  What the hell?”  I tried to think of why this song.  Did I hear it recently?  I honestly could not remember.  In fact, for the longest time, I could not recall the name of the song.  Eventually, I realized it was “My Favorite Things.”  I was pretty sure it was from a movie, but I could not remember which one.  

A short aside: 
When I got home after the race and told AJ about the song.  She asked, “From the Sound of Music?”  I replied, “I have no idea.”  After laughing at me, she proceeded to play on our Alexa and I learned a large section of the song is about German food.

The worst part of having this song stuck in my head was my extremely limited memory of the lyrics.  Besides what I wrote above, which I knew was incorrect – there can’t be 2 lines in a row about kittens, I remembered something like “when I am down, I remember my favorite things and then it’s not so bad.” (Not the lyrics by the way.)

I tried to think of other songs.  While I could briefly switch to another song, it always came back to “My Favorite Things.”  Eventually, I thought I may have heard a metal or horror version of the song and tried to think of the lyrics.  The best I could come up with was one additional line.  

Whiskers on kittens
Mittens on kittens
Fresh blood on white linens

As I mentioned the race was feeling monotonous.  It was the same thing over and over – go uphill for a little bit, then go downhill.  Up and down, over and over.  The landscape, brown sand and rock, dotted with green cacti and spindly looking plants that would cut you.

Maybe it was due to the lack of variety that I really began to notice all the different shapes of Saguaro cactus.  A Saguaro cactus is the stereotypical giant cactus of the Southwest United States.  In fact, I started to notice how many of them formed into erotic shapes.  I was reminded of “The Simpsons” episode when Homer entered the real world and was distracted by the erotic cake store.  I thought, is that happening to me?  Am I being distracted from the fears and horrors of the strange and unknown world surrounding me by erotic cactus?  Is this my way of coping?  Before I could dive into those questions, I would see an especially naughty cactus and giggle to myself.

If you are wondering, did I take pictures of the erotic shaped cactus? I did not.  I thought about it, but I knew it would lead to one of two realities:

1. I would be the guy with a bunch of erotic shaped cactus pictures on my phone.  Eventually I would have to explain why I had the pictures and why so many.
2. No one else would see them as erotic shapes and I would have to explain why I thought they were.

I did not feel like ending up in either of those realities, so I decided it was best to skip taking the pictures.

A bit of good news for my loosening grip on reality, I began to run into race friends.  Alex, who I ran with to the finish at Moab 240, recognized me.  We chatted briefly before I stopped to take a few photos and he took off ahead of me.  Then, I caught up with Ty, who I ran with the morning of the last day at Tahoe 200.  Ty and I were going about the same pace so we stuck together for a bunch of miles.  It was nice to have company for a couple of hours. 

Ty and I arrived together at the Black Hills aid station, mile 91.  At Black Hills, I took out my contacts and had some oatmeal.  Ty decided to have the personal pizzas they were making.  I don’t remember if we left the aid station together, but it was this stretch that we separated.  I left Black Hills around 7:45pm and it was a little over 14 miles to Tiger Mine, mile 105.

I heard Dave Stinchfield describe this section best – “You come over the ridge and can see the aid station off in the distance.  Then you go through a spaghetti bowl of trails before you eventually make it there.”

“Eventually make it there” described how I felt entering the aid station.  It was dark, cold and I was very tired.  Even though I was hungry, my plan was to get my dropbag and head directly to the sleep tents.  I had passed a bunch of folks on the trail, so I thought I would have a good chance of getting a spot in the sleep station.  Since Tiger Mine allowed crew, demand on the sleep station would be reduced.

I was able to get a cot and two wool blankets.  I did not pack any sleep gear in this dropbag, so I had to rely on what the aid station had.  I removed my shoes and put one of the wool blankets on the cot, covering myself with the other.  Like the earlier station I decided to leave all my clothes and jacket on due to the cold.  I was exhausted and was desperate to get some sleep.  Just like the previous night, I could not stop shivering.  I would doze off but then a violent shiver would strike and wake me back up.  For the second night in a row, I only got about 30 minutes of uninterrupted sleep before I gave up and decided to get moving again.  

I worked under the blanket to change socks, restock my pack, and put my shoes back on.  I left the sleep tent tired, cold, and hungry.  I needed to fix at least one of those and sleep was not an option.  I went and asked what vegan hot food options they had.  They had some vegan minestrone soup and pasta.  The pasta was cooked, but it was cold.  The volunteer started to heat up the pasta on the griddle.  Unfortunately, this was on the exact spot they just cooked a whole bunch of meat which meant that I could not eat it.  I have been vegetarian for over 30 years and vegan for about 5 or 6 years.  If I accidentally ingest meat or animal products like fat, I will get sick and/or have some major GI issues.

I appreciate all that the volunteers did at the race.  It is not an easy job; it is tiring and requires a lot of time.  You are exposed to the weather conditions and have to deal with many cranky runners and crew.  I want to highlight a common issue I experienced during this race:  the volunteers lacked knowledge on cross contamination and what food was vegan.  Multiple times I saw the vegan food cooked next to or right after the meat and the same utensils used to stir the meat and vegan dishes.  Additionally, they would claim a food was vegan when it was not, like mashed potatoes that contain dairy or noodles that contain egg.  At the end of the race, I found out that one of the vegan meals I was given was not vegan – the pita they gave me contained either egg or dairy.  I felt the need to be fairly vigilant in watching how the food was cooked or asking a lot of annoying questions.  In most cases, I opted for instant oatmeal.

I mentioned to the volunteer that I could not eat the pasta because she was cooking it on the same spot as the meat.  She apologized and made me a cup of the minestrone with added pasta.  With a warm cup of soup in my hands, I went over to the firepit area.  As I was heading to an open seat by the fire, someone asked if the seat was open.  I said, ‘Go ahead and take it.”  She looked at me and said, “No, you take it.  You need it.  You’re shaking.”  She was right, I was shivering so hard that I couldn’t even successfully get a spoonful of the soup.  I took the seat and warmed myself up enough to stop shivering and eat my soup.  I also ate a couple of the snacks from my dropbag before heading back out.

Day 3: “Will you all chill the f— out?”

A little after 4am on Sunday, April 6, I left Tiger Mine.  Over 100 miles, or one-third, completed.  Just about 200 miles to go.  This day I would face the hardest section of the race, the climb up and descent down Mt. Lemmon.  The next aid station, Oracle, the last one before Mt. Lemmon was about 9 miles away. My plan at Oracle was to resupply, put in my contacts, and get my cold weather gear before heading up Mt. Lemmon.

I made it to Oracle.  Right away, I started on my tasks.  I discovered that I did not pack my cold weather gear in this dropbag.  It was likely packed in the bag at the Mt. Lemmon bag.  After putting my contacts in, I had a quick cup of oatmeal, grabbed some fuel from my dropbag, and was on my way.

I was expecting the climb up Mt. Lemmon to be tough.  It was, but not overly so.  I took my time and kept moving, only stopping to remove a layer of clothing when I got too sweaty and take a couple of photos.  The weather was pleasant; I was lucky enough to climb around noon.  

When I got to the Mt. Lemmon aid station, I was greeted by Mike Groenewegen.  It turned out he blew out his knee and had to drop.  He was now volunteering.  Mt. Lemmon volunteers were on their game, they were making sure every runner was taken care of and had everything they needed.  I ordered some salted watermelon, a hummus and spinach wrap, and a guacamole wrap.

I decided to make Mt. Lemmon an extended stop.  I needed to eat, swap out my warm shirt (the one I had was drenched in sweat), take care of my feet, and restock my pack.  While I was hungry, I had zero desire to eat the food.  I forced myself to eat about a third of each of the wraps before I had to stop.  

Becca was the medic at Mt. Lemmon.  In fact, Becca would be the medic at most of the aid stations when I came through.  She was doing double duty as a volunteer medic and crew for her partner that was running the race.  Over the course of the race, I chatted with her several times and got to know her.   Becca helped me tape a hot spot on the side of my heel before I left Mt. Lemmon.

The descent down Mt. Lemmon was tough, technical, and a little perilous.  Eventually, it transitioned back to the ups and downs of the rest of the race.  As the sun went down, I was beginning to get a little nervous about my eyes.  I only slept about an hour at this point.  The air was dry and dusty and the trail had switched from single track to a wide fireroad like trail on what appeared to be packed light-colored sand.  

When the sun went down and I switched to my headlamp, I was having a difficult time with depth perception on the trail.  I turned on my waist light which helped a little.  Thankfully, I caught up with a runner and his pacer and asked if they were cool if I ran with them for a while.  They did not mind.  Being able to see how another runner was running on the trail, plus the additional headlamps allowed me to safely navigate the course.  The conversation helped me to stay awake and alert.

We soon came upon another runner and pacer.  The pacers took the lead and the runners lagged behind.  I ended up between the pacers and the runners and listened to both their conversations.  It wasn’t long before we were at the Charloux Gap aid station, mile 146.  I was almost at the halfway point.

Charloux Gap was a minimal aid station with only a few chairs and no place to sleep.  It  was around 8pm, I decided it was best to push to the next aid station and hope I would have a place to sleep.  This section started off with road running before switching back to a trail and ending with more road and paved running. 

I left the aid station on my own and was a little nervous about going off course.  Until now, the course followed the Arizona Trail and it was easy to stay on course.  Given my exhaustion, I was hyper focused on not missing the turn off the road.  When the course did turn off the road, I could not find the signs or confidence markers to follow.  I ended up pulling out my phone and using the GPS tracker to find and follow the course.  This small section was missing markings and it was difficult to find and follow the trail in the dark.  My phone battery was draining quickly.  I had a backup battery in my pack, but I wanted to avoid using it unless absolutely necessary.  After several twists and turns, the trail seemed easy enough to follow. Easy if not for the hallucinations.

Shapes and shadows shifted to create words written on the trail and rocks.  If I tried to read the words, I couldn’t but somehow I knew what they said.  I told myself to ignore it and to keep going.  The words started to form into questions.  Questions I could not read but knew what they were asking me. 
“If you can’t read them, you don’t need to answer them,” I told myself, over and over.
“Follow the trail. Eyes up. Move toward the next reflective marker. Don’t stop.”

That’s about when I started to hear the voices.  They were asking me the questions written on the trail.  Sometimes the questions were simple like, “What’s on the to-do list?”  Others were more like, “Why are there stars?”  Each time the voices asked a question, I felt compelled to answer.  Before I could answer, another question was asked.  

Imagine being trapped in a car on a long drive with a group of restless young kids. You’re gripping the wheel, trying to stay focused, but the barrage of questions is relentless.  One after another, faster than you can answer.  Your answers don’t matter — they just keep asking, sometimes the same question over and over like they never heard the answer.

Every time a question was asked, I would stop moving and try to answer.  Then I would realize I stopped and would look for the trail or next confidence marker and start moving again.  I knew I couldn’t continue this way.  I felt like I was losing my grip.

“Will everyone just chill the fuck out and let me focus on the race!?!” I yelled. I don’t know if I actually yelled that out loud or just in my head.  It worked, the voices went silent.  “Thank you,” I replied to the silence before getting back on my way.

About 15 steps later, all the voices started asking me questions again, but this time it was all at the same time.  “Argghh!!! Must just keep going.”

Just like a gift, I saw what looked to be two people sitting down ahead of me.  I really hoped they were real and in the race.  As I approached I called out, “How is it going?”

“Good,” they replied.  “We are struggling a little to keep going.  Mind if we run with you?”  They were real and in the race. 

“Not at all,” I replied.  Internally, I was thinking, “Hell yeah!  Other people to chat with will keep me sane. … Don’t let them know you have lost your mind and are hearing voices.  They don’t need to know those details.” 

They fell in behind me as I took the lead.  Of course, I instantly missed the turn and ended up off trail.  Luckily, I caught my mistake quickly and asked, “Did I just miss the turn?”
“Yep.  The trail is just over here,” the pacer replied.

The runner was Kerry Ward and his pacer, Mauri.  We ran, chatted, and navigated the course together for several miles until the course turned onto the road.  At that point we parted ways, Kerry and Mauri wanted to slow down their pace and I wanted to pick mine up.

As I got close to the Catalina aid station, mile 158.1, I saw 2 people coming from the other direction.  They asked me about a lost runner they were looking for.  I told them I had not seen or passed anyone recently.  

It was about 12:30am when I entered Catalina.  I was exhausted and needed to sleep.  I knew I could not push through to the next station.  Unfortunately, Catalina was not a sleep station.  I saw Becca and asked if there was any place to sleep.  She told me there were two cots near a fire pit, but they were both taken.  She suggested two options, using my emergency blanket and sleeping on the ground near the fire pit or asking Brian, one of the volunteers, if he had space in his truck.  Brian was one of the two people that went out looking for the lost runner.

After the previous two nights, I wanted to avoid sleeping on the ground with just the emergency blanket.  I decided to get my dropbag, sit by the fire for a bit, and figure out my best option.  Kerry and Mauri arrived.  Then, the search party, including Brian, returned with the missing runner.  The runner was having medical issues; he had a very dramatic lean to one side.  He did not speak much English, so his crew member was translating Becca’s medical questions and things to watch for.

Once things settled, I asked Brian, “Hi.  Someone told me that you may have a spot in your truck to sleep.  Is that true?”  He replied yes, and to hang tight while he set it up.

A couple of minutes later, he returned.  He said it was in the vehicle with the open door as he pointed to the parking lot.  He told me the spot was in the front seat and there was a blanket in there.  “The blanket might be dirty, but the gal that used it earlier did not seem to mind,” he told me.  I said thank you grabbed my dropbag and walked over to the truck.  My body temperature was dropping and I was already shivering.

When I got there, the space was cramped.  The passenger seat and back was filled with stuff and gear, most likely needed for the aid station and spending multiple days out there.  I got in and put my hydration pack and dropbag by my feet and my glasses and phone on the center console.  I removed my shoes, wrapped myself in the blanket, and tried to find a comfortable position.  I thought to myself, there is no way I am going to get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

The next thing I knew my alarm was going off.  I slept the whole time.  I estimated I got about 3 hours of sleep.  I put my shoes on, gathered my stuff, and went back to the aid station.  “How was it?” Brain asked.

I replied, ‘Honestly, it was the best sleep I have had the entire time I have been out here.  Thank you so much.  I really needed that.”

Day 4: All the Friendly People 

Now that I was able to get some sleep, it was time to change my socks and get some food.  There was a new volunteer starting his shift and they were about to switch over to breakfast food.  I had two cups of pasta with minestrone soup by the firepit.  While there, I learned that Brian was the aid station captain and I heard him share stories about how the event was going so far from his perspective.

After some food and a quick bathroom break, I was back on my way around 4:15am.  I thanked all the volunteers again and set out in the dark.  I was past the halfway point.

The next two sections of the race were probably my favorite part.  First, was 18.3 miles to RIllito, then 20 miles to Valencia.  Both of these sections were on a paved bike/run trail through the city.  Being well rested, on the paved path with cooler morning temperatures, I was able to go and keep a quicker pace, even passing several running and napping runners along the way. 

This was hands-down my favorite section.  It was full of life and buzzing with energy.  The path was busy with cheerful, athletic seniors in spandex, all smiling and waving as they rode past on their bikes. Just seeing that many people out riding and saying hello gave me a little boost.

Every so often, someone would slow down to ask about the race — what mile I was on, how it was going — and if they already knew I was racing, they’d shout encouragements like “Good job!” or “You’ve got this!” It made me think, I hope I’m like that when I’m their age.  Of course, the little voice in the back of my mind couldn’t resist chiming in: “You don’t have that long, old man.”

These folks were so genuinely kind that when I asked a couple of them how far it was to the next water fountain, they offered me water from their bottles. I thanked them and politely declined, letting them know I had water.  I was just trying to fine-tune my intake and didn’t want to miss the stop.

My stop at Rillito aid station, mile 176.4, was a little longer than I would have liked, but I needed to charge my phone and watch.  I took the opportunity to eat more food, since my overall calorie consumption had been low.  I had two vegan pizzas and lemonade.  Thor was the medic at Rillito giving out positive vibes and hugs along with fixing feet.  She helped apply KT tape around my arches for a little support.  I learned this trick from a medic at Cocodona 250 two years ago, and taught it to Thor, as a way to relieve tired arches.  It really helps me around 150 to 175 miles into a race. 

Soon enough, I was back on the trail, still going at a faster pace.  Once we left the city, the trail was way less populated.  I was by myself again.  The sun was hot and the landscape flat and boring.  

The final part of this section was confusing.  There were no confidence ribbons, apparently some locals had taken them down, and I could not tell which side of the busy street I was supposed to be on.  I slowed down and let the runners behind me catch up so we could find the aid station together.  It turned out the runner was Alex, who I ran the final section with at Moab 240, and another runner.  We found the aid station, thanks to the distinctive purple porta-potties they had for the race.

The Valencia aid station, mile 196.4, was a minimal station without dropbags or crew.  Mike Groenewegen was volunteering at this station as well.  He was moving a lot better than when I saw him at Mt. Lemmon.  One of the other volunteers was a runner that had also dropped the race and decided to help out at the aid stations.

All the runners that came into Valencia, myself included, were feeling the effects of the heat.  For me, the focus was to try and cool down a little, hydrate, eat a few calories, and refill my water bladder and bottle.  Thankfully they had ice, so I had a cup of ice water and a volunteer was kind enough to pour my Red Bull into a cup of ice to cool it down.  I ate a guacamole wrap, drank my ice water and iced Red Bull, and was back out on the course.  

After accidentally running along the shoulder of a busy road for a while, I finally spotted the run/bike trail across the street — and that’s where I met Jason Garcia, a runner from Washington. A little later, as we turned onto a dirt road, a pickup truck pulled up beside us. A young guy leaned out and asked what we were doing. We explained that we were running a 300-mile trail race. He thought it was incredible. In fact, he was so fascinated by the race and ultrarunning that he drove slowly alongside us for at least 10 minutes, asking all kinds of questions.

Around that time, we caught up with Jodine Coe and her pacer and they joined the conversation. Eventually, another car approached from behind, and the guy in the truck had to move on but not before snapping a quick selfie with Jason and me.

Jason and I continued running and chatting until we hit the Pistol Hill aid station, mile 212.9.  Jodine and her pacer were right behind us.   I drank some ice water, ate some oatmeal, took out my contacts before leaving, and put on my head lamp as it was getting dark.  I left the aid station with Jodine & her pacer; Jason was planning to stay a little longer.  

The three of us stayed together for a short while before I split off ahead.  The next section was uneventful until close to the end when I had to use my GPX tracker to navigate the path.  My phone was on less than 20% battery and I was very fearful of it dying.  Luckily, I found the course and made it to Gabe Zimmerman aid station, mile 222.9, with about 5% battery left.

It was a little after 11pm when I arrived at Gabe Zimmerman.  My plan was to sleep here.  My dropbag had my blanket.  At this point, I had made up a lot of time and was in the front part of the pack.  I hoped that meant it would be easier to have a good place to sleep.  I was right.  The sleep tent I chose had 2 cots, both empty, and a tub filled with blankets.  I closed the tent up completely and took the cot at the far end.  Since I was the only one there, I set up a folded over wool blanket to insulate me from the cold underneath, then stacked my blanket and another wool blanket on top of me.  I was not cold and was protected from the wind.  I set an alarm for 3 hours with the goal to be back on the trail at around 3:00am.

I slept nearly the entire time.  While I slept, my watch charged but my phone did not.  I would have to stay at the aid station a little longer than originally planned.  The aid station had minestrone soup, but no pasta.  I had two cups of soup while I resupplied my pack, which was very low on supplies, and changed my socks.  Becca was at this aid station as well, so I chatted with her for a little bit.  By around 3:30am, my phone had enough charge and I left.

Day 5: It is Time for This to End

The next section was pretty uneventful.  I reached the Santa Rita station, mile 233.5, pretty early in the morning.  They had minimal supplies, so I had a cup of watery oatmeal, put my contacts in, and was back on my way.  The next section was more of the same, ups and downs with the same landscape.  It was getting hot and dry.  I had to switch back to conserving my water.  Jodine and her new pacer caught up and passed me about a half mile out from the Oak Hill aid station, mile 251.2.

I was feeling the heat, so I decided to stop a little longer at Oak Hill to eat and rehydrate.  There were very few runners at the station.  I sat down, had watermelon, ice water, ice for my RedBull, a guacamole and spinach wrap, and a lemonade with ice.  After all the water and Tailwind I was drinking, lemonade over ice during the hot hours was too awesome to put into words.  I was so excited every time they had lemonade at an aid station.

Before too long, I was back on my way.  It was 15.4 miles to the next aid station and it was hot.  One of the volunteers said there was a water spigot about 12 miles in where we could fill up with water.  The next section was more of the same, except with higher temperatures and more cow patties.  So many cow patties!  

At about 12 miles, I reached a building with people sitting and reading on the porch.  I followed the arrow pointing to restrooms and water.  The place was lodging for people on the Arizona Trail.  I immediately filled up and drank one filter bottle of water, then filled up my water bottle before heading out.  

When I made it to Apache Springs, mile 266.6, I saw a familiar face.  It was Kevin Goldberg, a friend and fellow runner that I have seen and/or run with at every 200+ race since I first ran with him at Bigfoot 200 in 2019.  Kevin came down to the race at the last minute to support his friends.  He was waiting on a runner, Francis, who I met at the water spigot. 

I had some lemonade, watermelon, and half a guacamole wrap.  I changed my socks and restocked my pack.  I took out my contacts and noticed just how dry my eyes were. It was later in the day, but still very hot.  I decided here that I was going to push through to the end of the race.  I did not want to do another day in the heat and sun.

The next section was 21.5 miles.  The volunteers were insistent that I had enough water before leaving.  From the sounds of it, many people ran out of water during that section.  Once I had everything ready, I was off.

I started the section at a quick pace.  I was ready for the race to be over, but I still had another 38 miles to go.  I passed a few runners along the way.  I was feeling good, but fatigued.  After the sun went down, I was really struggling with the monotony of the trail.  There were endless ups and downs in the dark.  I was getting so incredibly bored.  How bad was it?  Due to the darkness, the erotic cactus was unable to entertain me.  The voice in my head was too tired to sing “My Favorite Things,” regular or metal/horror version, more than once an hour.

Whenever I saw other runners ahead of me, I would get excited.  I would catch up with them to have someone to talk to.  Most runners were also feeling the fatigue and going at a slower pace than I was.  Usually, I would only chat with them for a short bit before pulling ahead.  

I did catch up to a runner that was taking a quick break.  He was going at a quick pace so we ran together for some time.  One of the common things all the runners talked about was how they felt about the race.  To try to keep things positive, I would usually ask about their favorite part of the race.  While I don’t remember his favorite part of the race, what struck me was when he said his least favorite part was the bike path.  It turns out he ran it at night and there were a lot of homeless people around, some even heckling or yelling at him.  He told me that he pulled out his pepper spray in one hand and knife in the other before deciding to stop and wait for his buddy to catch up so they could run together.  It is so wild to think that my favorite part was his least favorite and the main difference was night and day, literally.  He ended up having to stop to use the bathroom and I continued on ahead.  

Alone again.  Jodine and her pacer caught back up to me.  They asked if I thought those lights on the ridge were the aid station.  We agreed that it probably was.  Then Jodine shared that her tracker said she was still a couple hours away from the aid station.  My motivation sank, especially since I knew it would be longer for me since Jodine was faster.

They sped up and before long, they were just a couple of lights in the distance.  Alone again, hours from the aid station.  “Just keep going,” I told myself.

When I got to the Casa Blanca aid station, mile 288, I was tired, cold and trying to formulate a plan on how I was going to continue.  The aid station was super quiet.  There were 2 volunteers and a runner asleep on a cot next to the fire pit.  The volunteer asked if I wanted any food and I asked about their hot vegan options.  She said they had vegan burgers.  I asked if they were cooked with the meat burgers and she gave me a weird look.  “No,” she replied.

I asked, “Are you sure?  Other aid stations haven’t kept them separate…”

She interrupted stating, “I am vegan.”

I smiled and replied, “Say no more, you get it.  Yes, I would love a burger with guacamole.  Thank you so much.”  Then I found a chair by the fire pit and sat down.  I was a little out of it, so the next parts are a bit of a blur.  Someone brought me my dropbag and the volunteer brought me the burger with guacamole folded in a tortilla.  I was a little confused when I saw it, so I took a picture before eating it.  The ham radio volunteer sat down at the fire pit.  He was using the tracker to see where runners were.  I heard him talking about it.

“Whoa, this one’s way off course.  Where are they going? … This one is going 25 miles per hour.  How is that possible?  This one too.  They are probably in a car. … This one hasn’t moved.”  It was entertaining to listen to him.

Francis and another runner arrived and ordered burgers.  Their plan was to eat and sleep before heading out.  I had eaten, changed my socks, resupplied my pack, and was charging my phone.  I chatted with the woman, Ashlee, who was crewing the runner sleeping on the cot.  Turns out, Ashlee founded Chaos Crewing Co, a company that offers crewing services to ultra and endurance athletes.  

When I returned from the bathroom, I saw a runner standing and getting ready to head out.  I asked, “Are you heading out?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I asked, “Do you mind if I tag along?  I can be ready in three minutes.”

“Sure, I can wait,” he answered.

Ashlee was crewing this runner as well.  She helped me fill my water and seemed to be happy that someone was going with him.  In about three minutes, I was ready and we were off.  I was so incredibly thankful to have someone to head out with.  It was the time of the night that I am at my lowest: lowest energy, motivation, mood, etc.  Just having someone to follow for a little bit was what I needed to get going again.

The runner was Kenny Krygier.  Over the next 16 miles and about five and half hours, Kenny and I got to know each other.  He is a retired Marine and stay-at-home dad.   We shared stories and learned more about each other’s families, race history, and pets.  He ran the 200 Triple Crown and Cocodona 250 in 2024.  Before Monster, he was dealing with injuries and was not able to train for the race.  Despite the knee problems he was dealing with, he was very happy with his performance.

While the section still felt long, running with Kenny was fun and kept me focused and awake.  I did not even drink the Red Bull I stashed in my pack at Casa Blanca.  When the trail turned on to a road, we knew we were close.  Kenny picked up the pace for a while, but I think his knee was bothering him and had to slow back down.  

I checked my watch and was super excited.  I had a goal of finishing in 120 hours.  By the time on my watch, I could finish in under 114 hours but I would have to speed up.  I thought about it, but I knew that finishing with Kenny was more important.  Kenny helped me get out of the Casa Blanca aid station and stay focused on the trail.  If Kenny wanted to run, I would keep pace with him even if it hurt.  If he needed to slow down, I would slow down too.  Finishing under 114 hours would be pretty cool, but finishing with Kenny is something I would remember for far longer than my finish time.

As we turned off the road onto the final little stretch, we heard the cheers from the audience.  Kenny and I crossed the finish line together.  Kenny’s crew and friends were there to congratulate him.  I heard Ashlee say, “That’s so cool you guys stayed together the whole time.” 

Finish Line: We are here for each other

Kenny and I gave each other a hug, took some pictures together before starting the race decompression.  One of the volunteers came over and took my post race pizza order, a vegan pizza, which I was informed would be on a corn tortilla.  I thought that was weird, but I really didn’t care.  I took my post race photo and almost walked away without my buckle.  I am thankful for the volunteers keeping an eye out for the delusional runners, like myself.

I found a chair by the firepit.  Sent a quick note to AJ, letting her know I finished.  Kevin stopped by to congratulate me, get me a lemonade, and ask about the race.  Soon my vegan pizza arrived, it was weird being on the corn tortilla, but I enjoyed it.  I even ordered another with more toppings.

After a little food, I found a cot in a tent in the shade.  I debated whether to sleep right then or to change clothes.  Since I had been wearing the same clothes, minus socks, for over 5 days and 304 miles, I decided to get my finish line dropbag, go to my car and change.  The car was cool on the inside and I thought about sleeping there.  I figured it would get pretty hot, plus the cots they had were near other people in case I needed help.

I found a cot and a blanket to use as a pillow.  I fell asleep quickly.  I only woke up once when Thor came over to check on and congratulate the runners. I sat up, she gave me a hug, congratulated me, then I fell back on the cot and passed out.

A couple of hours later, I awoke refreshed.  Unfortunately, I think my tongue was sticking out while I slept.  The tip of my tongue dried out, cracked and was painful.  After drinking some water, I was planning my next steps and chatting with the other runners. There was a younger runner asking one of the top three men’s finishers questions.  Becca came over and joined the conversation.  The younger runner did not have a place to go.  Another runner, who had DNFed and switched to a volunteer, had an Airbnb close by and offered him a place to clean up and rest.  

I asked Becca for help in how to get to the aid stations so I could pick up my remaining dropbags.  She sent me the links and details on how to get to the aid stations.  Unprompted, she also checked if there was space for me at the Airbnb and let me know that I could crash there if I needed to.  

The ultra trail community is amazing.  It is hard to fully describe the sense of community.  While we all have our own personal goals, demons to slay, voices in our heads we argue with, challenges and struggles to overcome, we are here for each other.  If someone needs help, we help them.  We want everyone to finish, to be safe, and get home safely.  What’s mine is yours, yours is mind, if it helps.

After a couple of hours of sleep, I felt rested and comfortable enough to make the drive to Tuscan safely.  I was making a quick round to say goodbye to everyone, but was delayed when the cook told me they made fresh tortilla chips.  I tried one and they were great, so I had a plate of chips with guacamole before leaving.

When I got to Tuscan, I showered, cleaned up, took care of my injuries and had a huge vegan dinner before laying down and sleeping for the night.  The next morning, I went back to the finish line to pick up my dropbags and collect the ones still at aid stations.  I ended up getting a coffee from the coffee truck on site.  I chatted with the women running the coffee truck for a little while.  They had a lot of questions for me about the race, why I run ultras, etc.

Once I had all my stuff, I left for Phoenix.  AJ was able to get me on an earlier flight, so I would be able to get home to see both shows my daughters were performing in on Saturday.

Final Thoughts

Since this was the inaugural Arizona Monster 300, a lot of people asked each other the same questions.  Here are my answers.

What are your thoughts on the race?

• This was the inaugural race.  As expected, there were parts that were a shitshow.  I am confident the race will evolve and improve over time.

Did you enjoy the race?

• No, it was monotonous, hot and needed more water drops.  The challenges I faced at the first two sleep stations and with getting hot vegan food were negative experiences.

Are you happy you ran the race?

• Absolutely.  100%.  No question.  This race was an amazing experience.

This was the longest race I have ever run by about 50 miles.  I run a lot of ultras and an extra 50 miles is no joke.  I did not know what to fully expect.  I have lost my vision towards the end of nearly every race over 200 miles.  People like to tell me, “That’s a sign that you are pushing yourself too hard.  That is your body telling you that you reached your limit.”

So signing up to run a 300 mile race was a scary idea.  Could I push myself another 50 miles?  I did not know, but I wanted to find out.  As I would like to say, “The chances of dying or being seriously injured are pretty low. Plus I might get to see a gila monster!”

Even though I did not see a gila monster, this race had some truly awesome moments and experiences:

• I beat my stretch goal time!
• I ran my race.  I knew what I needed to do and created a simple plan.  Complete 60 miles every 24 hours after the start of the race and remember, “If I am going faster than 20 minute mile, I am doing pretty well.”  Despite the challenges of going at a slower pace in the beginning, such as overcrowding and lack of supplies at aid stations and the “disappointment” of being at the back of the pack, I stuck to my plan.  The plan worked.
• The people and community.  To everyone that helped me, that I helped, that we exchanged hugs, fistbumps, words of encouragement, or just a smile along the way, thank you.  You gave me the energy to keep going.  I hope for many of you out there, I was able to do the same.

I am grateful for the experience of running Arizona Monster 300.  Like any hard journey or challenge, it is about how it makes you feel, especially when you look back at it.  I feel good about Arizona Monster 300.

Thank Yous & Shout Outs

• All the runners I met and ran with along the way.  This is an amazing and supportive community.  It is always a pleasure to run with all of you.
  • Kerry & Mauri: Runner with you helped quiet the voices in my head and focus.
  • Jason: Your positivity was infectious and it was blast chatting with you.
  • Jodine and your pacers: It always made me smile how you seemed to be out runner your pacers.
  • Kenny: It was a blast sharing that last section with you.
• The aid station volunteers and medics who were always willing and eager to help us in any way they could.  It was hard at some of those aid stations – thanks for putting in the work.
  • Brian at Catalina: Special thanks for letting me sleep in your car.  That may have been the point where the race turned around for me.
  • Becca, the medic: I can’t count the number of aid stations I saw you at, helping people with their feet.  You always seemed to be having a good time and joking around.  You are awesome!
  • Mike G: I appreciate the effort you made at multiple aid stations to make sure I had vegan food to eat. 
• The photographers (Jason, Anastasia, Sarah & Kristen) for capturing all those awesome moments.
• AJ, my wife, for the support, pre-race organization and logistics, and for taking care of the kids, animals, etc. at home while I was running.  I won’t be able to run these races without her.