Leadville Silver Rush 50-mile Race Report

         Last weekend I completed my last long training run before the 100-mile race in less than a month.  The Leadville Silver Rush 50-mile trail run is held about 1 month before the 100 every year for runners to gauge their performance and to work on their race strategy.  The race is held in the mountains East of Leadville and climbs 7,400 vertical feet, reaching over 12,000 ft above sea level at four separate points.  I planned to use this race to see how I would feel after 50 miles (as good as anyone can feel after 50 miles) and to find a pace I would be able to sustain for another 50 miles.  My goal finishing time was 12 hours, so I made sure to pack enough food and water to allow me to run all day.  There would be food and water at the aid stations spread every 7 miles throughout the course, but I packed a little bit extra because it is rare that everything goes according to plan during an ultramarathon. 

Just before the start

            I camped out in Leadville the night before the race, since we would be starting at 6 am.  I ate a big bowl of pasta, did final gear prep, and studied the map the night before as if I would be going to battle the next morning.  Part of running a smart race is knowledge of the course, particularly the location and intensity of big climbs.  The next morning, I headed to the start with about 800 other runners and we all stared up the ski hill we would have to run up right out of the gate.  It was going to be a long day.   The gun went off and off we went.  The first 10 miles gradually climbed up 2,000 ft through the trees then the alpine tundra above the tree line.  The top of the climb had a great view looking over Leadville and Mt. Elbert (14,433 ft) and Mt. Massive (14,421 ft) were visible out in the distance.  The next 5 miles were all downhill and that’s where my plan started to unravel.

Vicious start

            Around mile 15, my stomach started rumbling and turning to a point that put me in a world of hell.  I didn’t understand what was wrong.  I had been eating and drinking right on time when I planned and I wasn’t exerting too much effort for that stage in the race.  Whatever it was, the pain became crippling, but all I could do was push on towards the next aid station.  When I reached it, I took down some electrolyte fluids and a bit of turkey/tortilla sandwich.  I started to feel a little better, so I kept pushing forward downhill towards the halfway point at mile 25.  However, the pain came back and by the time I reached the halfway point, there was only one solution left, bathroom.  Whatever the problem was, I needed to solve it before heading back for the second half of the race because I really did not want to be suffering for another 6 hours.  I left the aid station feeling much better and I looked down at my watch.  5:30.  Not too bad.  I was just a little bit behind by pace for a 12:00 finish, since the second half would be slower after having 25 miles on my legs.  I started slogging back up the hill, feeling a bit more optimistic about the second half of the race.  However, that feeling quickly faded and I was back in a world of hurt with my stomach.  Oh well, nothing I could do but keep moving forward.  At this point, I would have expected my legs to hurt more than anything, but the stomach was overriding any other signals my body was sending, so my legs kept pushing on.  As I reached mile 28, I was nearing the top of the third big climb and BOOM.  A loud clap of thunder and a sheet of hail released from the sky.  As much as I didn’t want to be stuck in a hailstorm, the only way to get cover was to run.  I was with about 20 other runners above the tree line in the middle of a painful hail storm and my stomach was trying to rip through my abdominal wall.  Weird as it may be, I smiled as I ran down towards the trees, knowing not many people would ever know this feeling in a situation like this.  After I got to the trees, the storm let up and now it was time for my stomach to become my primary problem child again.  At mile 34, I went into the bathroom again at the aid station, hoping this would be the end of my misery.  I again left feeling good and took down some watermelon on my way out.  From here I had just a little more hiking, then it was all downhill for 10 miles to the finish.

Smiles for miles

            I felt great as I was cruising the downhill into the last aid station, 7 miles to go.  I looked at my watch and to my amazement, was still on pace for a 12:00 finish.  All I had to do was keep moving forward at a reasonable pace.  Since my stomach had slowed me down so much, my legs were still feeling fresh.  I couldn’t believe how good they felt after about 40 miles.  When I left the last aid station, some rain started to come down and within 5 minutes, it was like a monsoon ripping through the mountains.  The tough part about running at such high elevation is that the weather changes frequently because there’s not much around to block the clouds.  This is fairly typical in Colorado, so I looked around for a blue spot of sky that would hopefully open up soon and the rain would pass, nothing.  I knew I would be out there for about an hour and I saw some people hiding under tress to wait out the storm.  I wasn’t about to wait that long and I had fresh legs so I started running fast.  Luckily I had a sweatshirt with me, but even the people with rain jackets were soaked through their clothes.  I passed a bunch of runners who had their legs thrashed from the climbs a long time ago, but the only thing I could offer was encouragement to get to the finish.  About 4 miles from the finish, I was entirely soaked and I stopped trying to avoid the shin deep puddles that were obstructing the trail.  I stomped right through them like a little kid.  3 miles to go, I was running through a field of power lines with lightening in every direction.  I had my hat on and hood up just so I could see the trail and get out of there as quickly as possible.  Running under power lines in a lightening storm is one thing, but I also didn’t want to get sick from running through the cold rain.  A few more puddles and I came over the last hill and saw the finish line.  The final stretch was lined with people holding umbrellas cheering each runner on that came through.  Even the spectators were resilient against the rain.  I crossed the line in 12 hours and 1 minute, right on time. 

Although it was not my ideal race, I was happy with how everything played out and my problem-solving ability on the trail to still get to the finish.  I felt great at the end, which gave me a good amount of confidence about the 100-mile race in less than a month.  Over the next month, I will be studying the course down to every intimate detail and getting everything I need prepared.  As of today, I have raised $2,213.40 for the American Brain Tumor Association and I cannot express my gratitude for the amount of support everyone has given me.  Thank you for following my journey so far, now it’s time for the home stretch.

 

The Leadville Marathon

            The Leadville marathon, round 2.  This is my second year running the race and my single goal was to crush my time from last year.  I will spare the details about the massive climbs, sketchy downhills, and hailstorm I got caught in at 12,000 ft because I want to write something more personal about this race.  I finished 40 minutes and 135 places better than last year, so my goal was accomplished and I was high on life when I came across the line.

Distance: 26.2 mi

Elevation Gain: 6,300 ft

Time: 5:47

            Exactly one year ago, I ran the Leadville marathon as my first marathon ever.  Due to it’s location and terrain, it is one of the most difficult marathons in the country and probably not one for a virgin marathoner.  I trained for several months leading up to the race and hoped I would at least be able to finish by the allotted 8.5-hour cutoff time.  What happened that day is difficult to describe.  There are not many moments in life when you can look around and say to yourself, “Wow, I DID IT”.  The closest thing I could describe it to would be graduation, when all your hard work, blood, sweat and tears comes to fruition at one moment.  When I crossed the finish line last year, I proved to myself that I could conquer the most insurmountable challenge I’ve ever stepped up against.  7 months earlier, I would have never imagined, nor wanted to run a marathon because I thought it was too difficult and not in my cards.  Throughout my training, I remembered something my high school principal told us.  “The saddest thing I hear seniors say is ‘I wonder what it would have been like if’… If I tried out for the team, if I took that class, if I ran for school president.  Everybody says why me, why should I do it?  The better question is, why not YOU?”  I took on the marathon challenge just to say screw it and give it what I had, just to see what would happen.  The experience taught me what I was truly capable of, far beyond my preconceived notion of what I thought my limitations were.  It’s moments like that you really feel alive and that was the moment I caught the running bug.  I had originally planned on running the marathon and calling it a day because running hadn’t infected my life yet.  But the trail running bug became like a virus to me.  Those who have an outbreak show obvious signs and become incredibly contagious to those around them.  Sometimes it flares up, other times it remains dormant, but like a virus, you will have it until the day you die.  I this it’s the best virus floating around out there.  It has a way of bringing out camaraderie and altruism in those it infects, not the dogfight we see too often amongst ourselves everyday.

The unique thing about trail races compared to many other sports is the amount of respect given to every runner who lines up and finishes the race.  It didn’t matter that I had lost to the winner by over an hour.  The uproar of the crowd at the finish makes every runner recognize that they have just conquered something truly special.  I am lucky to have the opportunity to run through the greatest mountains in the country and I hope that my experience has sparked an idea for someone to take on a crazy challenge, whether at work, at a competition, or in a relationship.  The lessons I have learned from running transcend all facets of my life and, I believe, have made me a better person.  If you’re reading this, I hope you take a chance with something one day and put your whole self in, because you might just surprise yourself.  Maybe you don’t know what to do, but the best time to start is the end of this paragraph.  Good luck!

A few of my close training and racing partners