SPRING 2024 - GRAND CANYON R2R2R
I HAD spent 7 MONTHS TRAINING AND PREPARING FOR MY SPRING RUN ACROSS THE GRAND CANYON, BUT ALTITUDE Sickness cut our run short.
At roughly 44 miles and 20,000 feet of elevation change, the Grand Canyon R2R2R is an epic exploration of one of the natural wonders of the world. The route begins at the South Kaibab trail on the South Rim, traversing down and across the Colorado River, and up to the North Rim on the North Kaibab trail, then returning back to the South Rim via the Bright Angel trail.
This was a self-supported run. With no aid-stations along the way, I would need to carry all of the food and supplies needed for about 20 hours. My longest run to this point had been a solo road 50-miler from 3 years ago, but I had never done anything with as much elevation gain, or as big of a commitment as this. Normally, I am starting and finishing at the bottom of whatever mountain I am climbing, but the Grand Canyon is the inverse. The further you go in, the further you need to hike out. Going down was optional, but climbing up was mandatory.
THE PREP
I prepared for the R2R2R with my friend, Derek, who has experience with 100 mile races. It would be our first time attempting this run, but his race experience was helpful when discussing different workouts to incorporate in my training plan, and in ensuring we packed proper gear and food.
I watched many POV videos on YouTube of others who ran or hiked this route so I could familiarize myself with the trails. I spent a lot of time watching other people's stories about their experiences. I specifically sought out to find accounts from those who had difficulties completing, or who experienced medical emergencies. I searched for videos that discussed what went wrong, and what led to a necessary helicopter rescue. I wanted to learn as much as I could about others’ missteps. The main, reoccurring mistakes made came to overconfidence, a lack of respect for the distance, elevation and heat they'd experience, and a lack of attention to proper nutrition.
I began researching and re-educating myself on diet, maximizing muscle repair efficiency, and what to eat and drink before and during my run to prevent my body from breaking down. I researched different foods that would provide the most benefit in the smallest form, and snacks that would help give me a quick boost when needed. I logged the foods I craved during runs when I was feeling dehydrated and exhausted to keep note of what would be most appealing and easiest for me to consume once I lost my appetite.
Clothing was an important consideration. We would experience temperature swings from 110°F in the canyon to the 40’s at the North Rim, so it was important that I had what I needed to keep comfortable when weather changed. I needed to keep what I packed to a minimum, and everything I did need had to be as lightweight, and pack down as small as possible.
TRAINING
My training started in October 2023 with three months of Zone 2 training. This was a way for me to slowly get myself back into a routine while, at the same time, helping to build endurance. Zone 2 is frustrating because it requires that you maintain a low heart rate for at least 60 minutes. When you start Zone 2 training, there is a lot of walking to keep your heart rate down. It sucks when you’re amped up and really just want to go, but you’re waiting for your heart rate to drop back into range. But it was the perfect way for me to get back into the mindset of being out for 1-2 hours when I didn’t feel like running, while accomplishing an important goal. I gradually started mixing in some weekend long runs with some elevation training.
In January (4 months out), my goal was to start building up my weekly mileage. I added stair-stepper workouts twice a week, with targets of 2000-5000 feet of elevation per session to build cardio and leg strength. By the end of the month, I was running 30+ miles/weekend.
Being from New Jersey, training for elevation was a challenge. I found some short, steep trails of around 500-1000 feet of elevation per mile that I could run repeats up and down. February and March were dedicated to increasing my milage and elevation. My objective was to work up to running 6,000 feet of elevation in 20 miles. This would be slightly short the elevation and distance to get across the canyon one way.
I put in the work, felt strong and I was as mentally prepared as I felt I could be. I had seriously considered every aspect of this run except for one thing: Altitude.
The highest points along the rim of the Grand Canyon are around 8,000 feet, with the lowest point of the run being Phantom Ranch at 2,400 feet - a huge difference from almost all of my training done at around 60 feet. I had only felt the effects of acute mountain sickness once before when driving in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. I had just arrived to Denver and tried driving up to 12,000 feet when a headache started coming on with a slight feeling of nausea. I didn't completely disregard altitude during my training. I knew that the Grand Canyon was at a much higher elevation from my hometown, but I didn't anticipate for it to affect me so hard, or before we even began our first big ascent.
A TENTATIVE PLAN
Everything had been going smoothly until about two weeks before the run. Flight cancellations delayed Derek's arrival into Phoenix, and trail conditions and weather were changing quickly, so we had to remain flexible. We kept a constant eye on the Grand Canyon National Park website for important updates to give ourselves as much of a chance to adapt as soon as new news broke:
We learned that 3 miles along the North Kaibab trail would be closed between 9am-4:30pm for surveying. This required us to reconsider our start time so that we would reach and clear the work zone before it was closed off. We would now plan to start at 3pm (instead of 5am), get to the North Rim by sunset, and return back to the South Rim by sunrise.
A waterline break caused all potable water sources beyond Phantom Ranch on North Kaibab trail to be shut off. We would now only be able to fill up water at Phantom Ranch (mile 7 and mile 34) and Havasupai Gardens (mile 40) (there are no water sources along the South Kaibab trail, and the water at the 1.5 mile and 3 mile rest houses along Bright Angle Trail were also shut off for the season. This meant we'd have to ensure we could carry enough water to last us the 27 miles from Phantom Ranch, up to the North Rim, and back to Phantom Ranch, and have the ability to filter water from the streams if necessary.
The day before the run, we learned that the water at Phantom Ranch would now be shut off. This meant that we had to plan to travel 40 miles before reaching a potable water source, and be prepared to filter water from the streams. We would later be surprised to find water at Phantom Ranch had been restored, which I was extremely appreciative of later in the night.
THE RUN
April 22, we began our run just before 3:00pm, descending 4,500 feet in 6.5 miles down to the Colorado River. We were moving steadily, taking short stops along the way for photos and to bask in the views. I felt good, having made it to the river during the hottest part of the day, and entering the shade of the canyon walls. I was feeling slightly tired, which I dismissed as being from the heat and numerous stairs we had just run down. A quick break for a snack should have helped pick me back up, but as we left Phantom Ranch to begin our initial gradual ascent up to the North Rim, something started feeling off. I was struggling, but I didn't know why. I felt tired and had difficulty catching my breath, and I immediately started questioning how I was so unfit. The trail didn't seem steep, but I was unable to pick up speed without feeling exhausted, and eventually nauseous. All enjoyment was gone, my pack continued to feel heavier, I lost my appetite, and I wasn't able to hold down any food or water that I tried to munch and sip on. I questioned myself on how I could train so hard and feel so prepared, yet still fail so miserably.
We only made it 13.5 miles to Wall Creek, just shy of Cottonwood Campground, but with another 7 miles and 4,300 feet of elevation gain away from reaching the North Rim, we made the frustrating decision to turn back. Getting up to the North Rim was not enough, we still needed to get all the way back out on the South Rim, and I was in bad shape. I couldn't shake my negative mindset, wondering how I was going to be able to climb back out of this canyon in my condition. I could no longer pick up any speed at all, even on the downhills. I was crawling along, needing to stop every mile or so to remove my pack, lay down and nap to help settle my stomach enough to be able to eat some peanut butter M&M's and sip some water. After taking time to rest and refill water at Phantom Ranch, we crossed back over the river where I found enough of a rhythm to maintain a steady pace, taking deep, slow breaths, as I began the final 8 mile and 4,200 foot hike out.
I was about 3.5 miles from Havasupai Gardens, with two rest houses 1.5 miles apart before the Bright Angel trailhead. These checkpoints acted as small milestones to reach to keep me focused and moving. Blue hour had begun. The temperature began to warm up quickly and I would stop to look out over the trail as the morning light skimmed over the canyon.
Morning sunlight skimming the canyon from the Bright Angel Trail
This was the first time in about 12 hours that my mood finally began to turn. I began seeing more hikers again and the trailhead was in sight. The final switchbacks were a gradual incline and I was able to muster up enough energy for a short jog to the end. As glad as I was to be done, I felt disappointed in myself. I felt defeated. I felt like I never wanted to bother running again after this.
LESSONS
I spent the next couple of days sleeping in and spending the afternoons shooting photos around Sedona. My mood improved throughout the week until I was finally able to look back on the positives from my Grand Canyon experience, and I felt good enough to start considering a second attempt.
On the last day of my trip, I went on a short morning run back down the South Kaibab trail. The hike back up felt comfortable and breathing felt more relaxed. I looked out over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon when I got an alert on my Garmin that I was now acclimated to 4,921 ft. This was initially annoying, but also reassuring to realize how quickly I am able to adjust to higher elevations. This notification was motivation to keep working, and encouragement that I’m only one hurdle away from accomplishing my goal.
I had planned my trip to Arizona around running the Grand Canyon first, when I thought I would be at my strongest. Coming from such a low elevation, this was my mistake, and when I reattempt this run, I will be sure to allow myself a week to get in some light runs and hikes while acclimating. I’ve since done some reading into training for altitude at sea level, and my initial takeaway is that I need to prioritize effort over endurance. I need to stress myself more in my workouts to lessen distress at altitude by working shorter, high intensity runs into my routine. I need to put more of a focus on HIIT and Yosso 800 workouts. I will experiment with breathing exercises to improve lung capacity. I also now know what it feels like running down 4,500 feet of stairs, and I want to incorporate more quad strength training.
I am interested to learn more about what is happening in the body during exercise at altitude, and how I can use this information to improve my workouts, diet and overall game plan. What equivalences are there between training in high heat and humidity vs. high altitude? What workouts can I perform, or environmental conditions can I train in, while at sea level, that would produce similar results to training at altitude?
I’ve now experienced a new level of pain and distress. I have an updated understanding of how far I am able to push myself when feeling such misery, and I’ll now be better able and prepared to be considerate of and recognize any symptoms of altitude sickness early, so I can better manage my effort.
The Grand Canyon is certainly an unforgiving place. In the end, I completed 31 miles with 6,726 feet of elevation change. I still feel dissatisfied, and I won’t be able to move on until I finish what I started. I just remind myself that this setback will only make the accomplishment feel much more meaningful.