As the powerful Colorado River churned beneath me, as it has for centuries, and the relentless sun peaked over the top of the North Rim, I could not help but feel astounded. I was in a timeless place: a place disconnected from the society I had left behind miles ago. Down here, in the lowest section of the Grand Canyon, it was just me, my friends, and the heat. Always the heat. We had started our journey, a run from the Grand Canyon’s North Rim to the South Rim, at 4 AM in a futile attempt to avoid the skyrocketing temperature and finish before the sun became the determining factor in the success of our venture. Fifteen miles in, watching the sun make its first appearance, I could almost feel the high 90 degree temperature begin to shift into triple digits. I couldn't help but smile. The stakes had just been raised.
Despite being from the generally frigid state of Michigan, I was fairly certain I knew what overheating felt like before my trip. Having been a dedicated cross country and track runner in high school, I had practiced and raced in triple digit temperatures. Furthermore, having gone to school in Arizona for my undergraduate degree, I was used to relentless August temperatures of over 110 degrees. Yet, regardless of my experience with just how grueling the heat can be, I know that when presented with the opportunity to run across the Grand Canyon from the South Rim to the North Rim with some of my best friends, there was no way I could stand to be left behind. At the time, training for the Canyon felt extremely rigorous. Typical 60 mile weeks grew to 75 mile weeks. 13 mile long runs became 16 or 17. And worst of all, rigorous incline runs on treadmills started. In hindsight, the training was barely a glimpse of what was to come. The hours and the miles slowly trekked by. …show more content…
As the halfway point and the Colorado disappeared behind us, each step brought us closer to civilization and farther away from the red silt that comprises the majority of the Grand Canyon. Yet, each step also brought us uphill. Stride after stride, step after step, the incline continued increasing. And as the incline increased, the conversations and smiles among our isolated group in the depths of the Grand Canyon decreased rapidly. The world was slowly fading into burning hamstring muscles, ragged breathing, and futile attempts to avoid the heat. There was no shade, no water to cool off with except the precious packs we carried on our backs. As someone tripped over the countless piles of loose stone, we stopped for a second as he collected himself. It was the first time I had actually looked around in a couple hours. The entire world was red. Red stone in every direction. Behind me, the Colorado, with all its power, was no wider than my thumb. Ahead of me, the foot trail continued for countless miles. We were as far away from society as I had ever been- there was no cell phone service, no help around the corner. If something happened down here, there wasn't an easy fix or an authority figure to run to for help. And with this realization, we were no longer young adults running across the Grand Canyon. We became another generation
Despite being from the generally frigid state of Michigan, I was fairly certain I knew what overheating felt like before my trip. Having been a dedicated cross country and track runner in high school, I had practiced and raced in triple digit temperatures. Furthermore, having gone to school in Arizona for my undergraduate degree, I was used to relentless August temperatures of over 110 degrees. Yet, regardless of my experience with just how grueling the heat can be, I know that when presented with the opportunity to run across the Grand Canyon from the South Rim to the North Rim with some of my best friends, there was no way I could stand to be left behind. At the time, training for the Canyon felt extremely rigorous. Typical 60 mile weeks grew to 75 mile weeks. 13 mile long runs became 16 or 17. And worst of all, rigorous incline runs on treadmills started. In hindsight, the training was barely a glimpse of what was to come. The hours and the miles slowly trekked by. …show more content…
As the halfway point and the Colorado disappeared behind us, each step brought us closer to civilization and farther away from the red silt that comprises the majority of the Grand Canyon. Yet, each step also brought us uphill. Stride after stride, step after step, the incline continued increasing. And as the incline increased, the conversations and smiles among our isolated group in the depths of the Grand Canyon decreased rapidly. The world was slowly fading into burning hamstring muscles, ragged breathing, and futile attempts to avoid the heat. There was no shade, no water to cool off with except the precious packs we carried on our backs. As someone tripped over the countless piles of loose stone, we stopped for a second as he collected himself. It was the first time I had actually looked around in a couple hours. The entire world was red. Red stone in every direction. Behind me, the Colorado, with all its power, was no wider than my thumb. Ahead of me, the foot trail continued for countless miles. We were as far away from society as I had ever been- there was no cell phone service, no help around the corner. If something happened down here, there wasn't an easy fix or an authority figure to run to for help. And with this realization, we were no longer young adults running across the Grand Canyon. We became another generation