5 weeks before Leadville, I hit the turnaround of the Silver Rush making plans for my non-Leadville summer.
I didn't get in the lottery back in January, and after a short period of pissed off disappointment, I decided I would forgo one of my favorite races (Ultra Adventures Capitol Reef) in order to run the Silver Rush, so I could earn a ticket to the Leadville 100.
After a pretty good training season, I was expecting a PR and an easy ride to Leadville. As I started out with, by the time I hit the halfway mark, I knew my dreams were gone. Though only a few minutes behind my target time, I had worked way too hard and knew I could not keep it up for the return. All the way back, I kept mentally rearranging my racing and training schedule for the rest of the summer. There were plenty of positives - no more altitude training, total focus on the North Coast 24, etc.
I started to feel a bit better after the last aid station and pushed to the finish, but only so that I could at least break the 9 hour mark. I sprinted across the line with my worst time in 4 visits to the Silver Rush and was completely shocked when the gal handed me my finisher's medal, coffee mug, 3rd place age group award, and the coveted copper token to the Leadville 100!!
Apparently, many others had poor performances out there and my time was good enough.
All of a sudden, I was re-rearranging my racing and training plans.
5 weeks later, I jogged up to the start line of my 3rd consecutive Leadville 100, and for the first time, I wasn't even nervous. I felt comfortable and relaxed, knowing I had the experience and had earned my right to be there - not the least bit cocky, but I just felt comfortable. I wasn't even wearing my gps this time, opting to go strictly by feel.
I started way closer to the front than previous years and fell into a pretty good groove from the start. By the time I got to Turquoise Lake, only a few miles in, I hit the first snag. The flashlight that was supposed to last 2.5 hours was already dying! With 1.5+hours till sunrise, I tried not to panic.
Then, part way around the lake, I missed a turn, going off course about a hundred yards, and I couldn't even blame it on the failing light. I got back on track, letting out a few choice words. Luckily, I made a conscious decision to keep a positive attitude. If the finish came down to a hundred yards, I could be mad again. Otherwise, I still had 95 miles to make things go right.
I tagged along with other runners to take advantage of their lights, marveling that I stayed upright on the dark trail, and finally made it into May Queen. Taking just seconds to unload my useless flashlight and refill my bottle, I headed out through the cheering crowd asking for the time. Joe Agnew (Kelly's wife) saw me, yelled out that it was 6:01, and sent me off with some encouraging words.
Only 12.5 miles in, but I was on my most optimistic pace. How long would this last? I had calculated 21 hours as a tough, yet achievable goal. That would be an hour better than last year, so a pretty good improvement if I could do it. But, as usual, I had also planned out a super fast pace, mostly so I could be prepared if I ran certain sections really fast. I certainly wasn't planning on starting out that way.
I felt good going up the backside of Powerline and even better flying down the front. Then, after a short section of asphalt, I rolled into Outward Bound, now 5 minutes ahead - so fast that Brenda and the girls weren't even there yet, as I was still moving faster than my fastest pace estimate
After a jaunt through the grass field, we were back out onto another stretch of pavement. It was at this point that I started to feel the morning's efforts. Fortunately, I was smart enough to ease things back a bit before it was too late. I don't know where this bout of patience and maturity came from, but I'm sure it saved my race.
It seemed to take forever to get to Half Pipe, and though I didn't know it at the time, I lost back that 5 minutes. I kept running smart, taking it easy on the up hills and rolling comfortably along on the downhills. This is a deceptively difficult section - the field is stretched out so you can be alone at times, yet it's still early enough for many runners to be pushing too fast and pull you along. It's also one of the more "boring" sections of the course as there are no significant natural features and no spectators around
At Twin Lakes, I was met by Mike Robberts (who would pace me from Winfield), Brenda, and the girls. I moved through pretty quickly and found out that I was pretty much right on my 20 hour pacing estimate.
I headed up towards Hope Pass and definitely felt stronger than the previous year, though I wasn't passing many runners. It turns out the reason was that I was so much further up the field than previous years, there were just fewer runners to pass.
The volunteers at the Hopeless aid station were awesome (as usual) and I didn't even have to slow my pace. They ran up to get my bottle, filled it and handed it back as I passed through. I was also greeted by Ethan Matyas, who was not racing but had come up with his son to hang out and cheer on the runners.
Up Hope Pass I went and down the other side. It was quite a bit down that I finally came across the leader, Max King, who was on a record setting pace. By the time I hit the right turn that parallels the road, I had only crossed paths with 3 leaders - way fewer than previous years. Gradually, more runners came up the trail, and I stopped counting. Just after making the last turn down towards the road, I came across Tim Olsen, surprised that he was less than 2 miles ahead of me.
At the road, I saw David Silva, but of course, he had his camera off. Heading into the aid station, Mike greeted me and helped me transition through efficiently. I called out for the time and had to get a couple of responses before I could narrow it down to the minute (every minute was important). 9:30 into the race! 40+ minutes faster than previous years and still feeling pretty good. I knew that it was a long shot, but returning a full hour slower would still give me a chance at the 20 hour mark.
Mike and I headed back along the rolling trail where I was still crushing the downhill portions. Then to the left turn and up towards Hope. The day was getting hotter and I was feeling it, but was still pushing up at a reasonable pace. We passed a couple of runners on the way up and saw many friends coming down. It felt great to hit the pass, feel the cool breeze (the timers hanging out on top were wearing heavy down parkas), and see Twin Lakes far below.
Mike helped me get through Hopeless quickly and we continued to fly down the mountain, while still giving my legs a chance to recover from the climb. Back at Twin, I took a couple of minutes to re-hydrate with two cans of club soda and change to dry socks and brand new, out of the box shoes. Tania was there with some words of encouragement but soon we were back onto the course, not really knowing how I was doing on time.
On the way to Half Pipe, we see-sawed with a few sets of runners/pacers - I would pass on the downhills, they would catch up on the climbs, but slowly, I would pull away. As we got to within a couple of miles of the aid station, some guy and his pacer came whipping by, on a downhill, no less. Tuned out it was Mike Aish. Somehow, he fell way behind yet had rebounded strongly. Soon thereafter, we passed Tim Olsen, who was slowly walking on a relatively flat section. I hate to see anyone suffer, but I have to admit that it gave me a shot of adrenaline.
I had done some rough calculations as to the time I needed to still have a shot at 20, and when we got into the aid station, I was almost disappointed that I was still on. I was feeling a bit tired after 70 miles and looked forward to slowing up a bit but with the magical 20 still a possibility, I just couldn't let the opportunity slide without an all out effort.
Into Outward Bound we came, with the sun still hanging over the mountains. Brenda and the girls were there for a quick emotional boost. I also swapped pacers. Mike had done an awesome job getting me this far and now it would be Anthony's turn.
I downed a can of Coke, big cup of ramen, put on a shirt, and off we went. My time into OB was borderline for making 20 but I pushed on, though I didn't want to overdo it just yet. I still had memories of my first year when I totally fell apart at the base of Powerline.
This year was as different as night and day. Literally. This was the first time I hit the base of the climb in daylight. Boy what a difference that makes - both physically and psychologically.
For an added boost, part way up the climb we came across a runner puking off the side of the trail. As we passed by and shared some encouraging words, Anthony whispered "I think that was Mike Aish".
Again, I don't relish anyone suffering, but it felt good to know that the only person to have passed me after mile 30 was now back behind me. Mike did make a push for a bit, but to no avail.
We finally broke down and pulled out our lights right before the summit. Just as we were hearing the commotion from my favorite aid station of all time. The stoners were out! It seems like they outdo themselves each year. These guys saved my life and my race the first year and I remind them of that each time. They are just awesome and provide such a needed energy boost this late in the race.
After some shots of Coke, Anthony and I flew down the back side towards May Queen. He seemed pleased with my downhill speed at this mileage, which made me feel pretty good. Pulling into May Queen, we quickly refueled and moved out. We had just over 2.5 hours till the 20 mark. This was doable, but it would be close and it certainly would not be easy.
Part way around Turquoise, I stopped to take a leak and in the light of the flashlight was shocked to see that I was pretty dehydrated. With almost 2 hours to go, much could still go wrong. I forced myself to drink more, fearing the kind of total collapse that I've experienced with severe dehydration.
We passed a couple of runners, but the trail around the lake just seems to be interminable at the end of a tough day. By the time we were wrapping around the east end of the lake, I probably hit my lowest point of the race, but thankfully Anthony did a great job of keeping me motivated. We finally hit mini-Powerline and did another quick time check. It was still within reach, but not having exact mileage and with the Boulevard uphill still to come, nothing was certain.
As we got closer to town, the previously unthinkable goal of 20 hours was right there in front of me, waiting to be grasped. My mind and body were fully exhausted as we crested the final hill and came into view of the finish line. And there ahead of me was the red "taillight" of another runner. I pushed with everything I had left, but just didn't have enough distance to fully close the gap.
19:51:47!!!! I broke 20 and finished in 10th place overall. The two elements of my most optimistic secret dreams.
And as it turns out, that runner that finished less than a minute ahead of me was none other than Max King, who was on a record setting pace for the first 60+ miles.
As I was recovering in the medical tent after the race, I told everyone around how I was going to retire from Leadville. I had achieved almost impossible goals. There was no way I could outdo this performance. I needed to go out on top, like Michael Phelps, except without all the gold medals, or millions in endorsements, or superhuman physique... Okay, pretty much nothing like Michael Phelps, but still, on top. It only took til sunrise for me to start rethinking that decision. Surely, if I trained just a little harder, I could shave a few more minutes off, and if the weather was even better, maybe a few more minutes. My family may have something to say about it, but at this point, Leadville number 4 is calling to me.
After the race, I felt pretty good except for the plumbing. I was having to run to take a leak every 5-10 minutes and I thought I might have some internal bleeding (ultra runners freely talk about this kind of crap (pun intended)). Luckily, this all went away within the next 24 hours. By the time I woke up from a 3 hour nap, my legs were feeling pretty good too. They were a bit on the sore/stiff side, but not too bad at all.
All the training and experience paid off, in addition to a good load of luck. But another big reason for the success was that I constantly made minor changes to my pace and effort to keep pushing hard while not red-lining. I never really ran with anyone in the first half of the race, allowing me to keep my own pace the whole time. On the return, both pacers, Mike and Anthony allowed me to dictate the effort until the very end. With all my experience, there is nobody else who knows what my body should or shouldn't be doing at any particular time. Also, my 52 minute positive split is a clear indication of great pacing. While I'm still chasing the elusive negative split on a hundred miler, this came pretty darn close.
