Race Report: Canyon de Chelly 55k — 2019
This race report is being reposted here on Medium along with several others, many years later.
My anticipation grew as we drove from Flagstaff, AZ across the reservation and approached Chinle. This was my first race since Skyline to the Sea 50k in 2017 and I was ready for another test, especially after putting in close to 600 miles of training over the prior 4 months.
Once in town, we headed to the campground to pick up my number and attend the race meeting. We learned about the origin of the race, the history of the canyon and of the Navajo people, and about the significance of running in their culture. We also got to see the gorgeous handcrafted necklaces, bracelets, rugs and pottery that would go to the winners and finishers.
The next morning, it was 25 degrees as 140 runners gathered around the fire in the dark to receive a blessing from the race director’s father. Then we departed at 7am, not with the sound of a gunshot or horn, but with our own yells, announcing ourselves to the canyon in the Navajo tradition.
The first 3+ miles were a slog through deep sand in the early morning light toward the rising sun and the mouth of the canyon. Combined with the cold, it was a bit of a shock to the system, rather than a gradual easing into 34 miles!
I stayed as focused as I could as I journeyed into the canyon, trying to get the feeling back in my fingers, stopping just briefly to capture Spider Rock in a photo. I saw flocks of wild turkeys and horses grazing. Every so often I’d hear someone call out, the sound bouncing off the canyon walls. I was fortunate that during this stretch a fellow runner captured some shots of me on his GoPro as we ran along.
I was actually relieved to arrive at the 1,200 foot climb up Bat Canyon trail at mile 16, to change up the pace, and to take on a challenge I *had* prepared for in my training by trudging up Windy Hill near my home (unlike the cold, sand, and altitude, which I had not prepared for!). Arriving at the summit, at 6,850 feet, I took a good look at the canyon floor below then headed back down.
On the return 17 mile trip, I saw only a handful of other runners. It was quiet and now the canyon was fully lit by the sun, showing all its beauty, but my legs and feet were starting to ache and I knew I had that 3+ miles of sand waiting for me before I would reach the finish. I pushed on, sensing the heat rise, feeling the breezes, all the while my body pushing back against the effort.
I began to track my progress and realized that breaking 7 hours was within reach and a goal that could keep me moving forward. So I counted down the miles until I met the sand again, and then moved through it as best I could, recognizing that sometimes you just have to take your time, and sometimes walking is a better option than running.
As the finish line came into view, I passed another runner. I was going to break 7 hours, I didn’t need to run anymore, but he pushed me to close it out strong. I felt a great sense of relief and was excited to learn that I was among the top women finishers with my time of 6:51:30. I selected a beautiful silver bracelet as my prize, and wore it along with my turquoise finisher’s necklace (no big medals at this race).
I’m not sure I was able to fully take in this sacred place in the moment (or rather, 7 hours of moments), but over the past two weeks it keeps coming back to me. I expect it will for a long time and I’m grateful.
