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.