Cocodona Training Run
Gearing up for the Big Dance
This past weekend, I dipped down to Arizona for some desert running, heat training, and a reminder of how hard the first 36 miles of Cocodona are to tackle.
Runners for Public Lands is the non-profit partner of Cocodona this year, a happy coincidence as I am running under a charity bib raising money for this phenomenal organization. As part of the support, I did the official Cocodona Training Run put on by Aravaipa, and had a blast!
Typically, I start most group runs right away. Similar to how no one wants to be the first in a buffet line, there can be hesitation towards being the first off in a group run. Saturday, though, I took a different approach. I wanted to be able to talk to as many other runners as I could. Taking a cue from Bozeman Run Club Founder Kyla, I started at the very back and chatted my way up throughout the day.
This was a great way to both keep the effort relaxed on my end and see how it felt to arrive in Crown King relatively fresh, and it helped me meet tons of other racers.
I’m not sure about anyone else, but sometimes in races, I nickname other runners in my head. Just something distinct. I’ll see and leapfrog these people for a while, it’s helpful to keep track. Once, I think I named a runner “Orange jacket guy”. Well, his name is Donald, and we’ve been friends for 5 years on Strava and Instagram. Orange jacket no more! (Though Donald, do you still have the orange jacket?)
Still, before getting within talking distance, I would see other runners ahead: “green shirt,” “blue pack,” “sparkly hair,” “tall with tattoos on both calves.” You get the idea.
My first conversation was with Andy, we talked about Access Fund and The Sierra Club, and how Runners for Public Lands fit into the ecosystem of these fantastic groups. I said both of those organizations are great, and what makes RPL different is it is really focused on activating the running community, the way Access Fund has done a great job getting the climbing community involved in keeping recreation areas safe, clean, and leading advocacy in the outdoor space.
Andy dropped me on an uphill, and I chatted to Denela (sorry, I don’t know how to spell this?) and Callie, both of whom had great pink pops of color in their outfits. After wishing them luck, I headed quickly downhill. I was feeling good, but excited for the aid station. I refilled my water, emptied my trash, grabbed a bottle of Tailwind, and headed out. The biggest struggle with this first stretch is it’s long, hot, exposed, with very little aid. After somewhere between mile 7 and mile 10, you can’t get more than 2 liters of water (really 1 liter at a time, twice) until mile 32.5. So you start carrying a lot of weight, but can easily run out of water and struggle with dehydration.
The confusion on my face is: I’m not sure when I took this picture.
Despite this, I enjoyed a cool breeze on the ridgelines and again talked to more runners. Brittney, and Lisa, both crushing it! Kyle and Brad, encouraging each other onward. One runner asked if I was the person they were supposed to ask about Public Lands, and I said, “Yes, that’s me! Do you want a sticker?” He declined. “I think concentrating on not falling on the downhill is not the time to focus on stickers.” Fair enough, I laughed in agreement and headed onward.
Catching up to one runner, their attitude made it clear the whimsy of my joy over the sparkling rocks (Mica? It’s so sparkly in the sun!) was not welcome, so I kept the pace engaged and continued forward. Melissa was wearing a shirt that matched the purple and yellow wildflower patch we were crossing. Marcel was kind, and his friend John was a good companion on the last sustained climb. John and I chatted about other races and the history of Cocodona. How it is truly a special event with incredible community and support.
By the time I got up to Lane Mountain at mile 32, I was feeling tired, hungry, but overall strong. I ate a gel, refilled my water, and deployed my new for Cocodona 2026 playlist. Cocodona: The Musical. I wanted to see how it felt to run to these songs and if I could have lots of fun with it. I did, eventually singing along and dancing a bit as I made my way down the gravel road into Crown King. Did this cause the runner ahead of me to speed up so he didn’t have to get involved? Maybe.
I arrived in Crown King just a little behind my goal race pace. I (hopefully) learned a valuable lesson: Once you get to Crown King there are still essentially 220 miles to go. No need to race to the top! If you can arrive feeling fresh and hungry for more miles, you’re in good shape. Keep. It. Chilllllllllllll.
After changing into my new RPL shirt, I hung around the saloon for a few hours, chatting with other runners as they came in and handing out stickers—much easier when people are sitting around eating hamburgers.
While I didn’t actively pitch runners to check out RPL (yet!) I’m hopeful my friendly demeanor and awesome RPL hat helped prime them to become active members of the outdoor community, taking care of the trails and landscapes we have the privilege to run through. Whether on their own, through other local organizations, or by joining RPL! (https://runnersforpubliclands.org/membership/)
Sunday, I ran on my own before rendezvousing with Jeff and the Janji camp, then on Monday Jeff and I ran and hiked an area near Prescott before I flew home. I capped off my first 100-mile training week in…years? I typically don’t go much above 80 miles because I personally feel diminishing returns on that many miles run vs recovery time. But to each their own. The 100-mile week is a nice confidence boost as I enter an even more competitive field than last year.
But this year, I am really working on bringing the whimsy! The joy and the fun. And, thanks to almost 100 friends and family, I get to run knowing I’m helping ensure a runnable future on public lands for all. (and yes, you can still donate!)