Tuesday 17SEP2019

I paced Eric S last year at LT100.  He has always puts up good post race video.  Here is his 8th version of it.

Afternoon - a tad tired.  8 miles.

Ski Day

We did the day at Cooper – which is different than Copper.  Cooper is the old 10th Mountain Division hill outside of Leadville.  Copper is the hill just off 70 before heading to Vail or Leadville. 

As is typical for when I ski – it is an ass kicker of a day with the prep, the drive, and the skiing itself.  And with a high in the teens and temps starting below zero, it was cold too. 

I am the worst of the skiers in my family.  This is not surprising since I skied for the for the first time after I was in the Air Force and everyone else in my family has been doing it since they could basically walk.  JZ basically runs circles around me laughing at how hard I make even easy stuff look. 

That weekend in August.

So, five guys went sub 3:40 at the Pikes Marathon.  That is not normal, as in many years a sub 3:50 would outright win the race. 

And Dakota Jones ran the fastest descent recorded – breaking Carpenter’s downhill mark of 1:15:33 by posting a 1:13:53 bomb en route to the win. 

Bjorklund’s female marathon record from 1981 – 4:15.18 – was broken by Megan Kimmel with a 4:15:04.

Krar ran Leadville for the win in the second fastest time ever at that race in 15:51 (yes, again we talk of Carpenter holding a record – his being 15:42 – and yes, feel free to start course differences over the years discussions and debates).

Dave Mackey ran sub 25 for a big buckle at Leadville.  Coming off Leadman.  And Dave runs on a prosthetic leg below the knee after losing the leg due a few years ago post a rock crushing it on a mountain jog. 

And the Ascent was cut short to a race to just to Barr Camp rather than to the summit because of weather.  It left folks contemplating or being upset over decisions regarding safety in an event which by its definition is “America’s Ultimate Challenge.”  (search Mike Rowe and safety first to those that say that) 

Which is to say …

WTF.

Those are the headline stories.  Along with those come countless stories from these two race events that almost coincide every 3rd weekend in August (the two races at Pikes and the Leadville race). 

Since 2007 I have been at one of these events every time they occur.   Over the last four years, I have been at Pikes, either running the race, stumbling out of Periodic Brewing to watch the finish or pacing.  This past weekend I paced Eric Strand from Twin Lakes to Mayqueen.  Eric got his seventh finish there. 

The human energy at these events is palatable.  And they have become a Christmas in Colorado in August for me … and apparently many others … every year.

As I waited to pace Eric at Twin this weekend, the otherwise sleepy village had become a epicenter of people – crews, runners, pacers, fans, vendors.  I’d say rock concert, but you’d be hard pressed to find a cigarette at this show (why burn your tightly sewn puffy down coat?).   It was big and loud and buzzing with the energy of people doing stuff that was not that special but rather ridiculous and special … running a 100 miles through the heart of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.

As I paced Eric through the night, we turned up the infamous Powerline Climb shortly after 2AM.  This 3 and a half mile 1500 climb comes at mile 80ish in Leadville.  It is a fairly stout climb but placing it at this point in a 100 mile race actually has made or broken many a racer and sets up for what fish story they will tell later. 

I looked up the scar on the hill that is the climb and I could see hundreds of headlamps.  Nearly all were moving, at some slow imperceptible pace.  Some, as I would see as we made the climb, were stopped, with racers hunched over poles vomiting, or huddling under a blanket as they came to terms with what they were going to do in this event.  As Eric and I made the climb, this view flipped – I could see the rush hour of lights behind us, grinding through each of their stories of their race. 

These events and their stories come with a scene, a vibe, the victories, the defeats, a camaraderie, a sense of competition, disappointment and disgust, tears and laughter, heat exhaustion and hypothermia, connection to friends and families and a connection to each other and the land we love here in Colorado.  They are exhausting and exhilarating. 

Photo credit Jeff Cotner:

I had no plans to run Pikes or Leadville this year.  I was not even on the calendar to pace this past weekend until Wednesday of this past week.  I had forgotten how much I love this weekend.  It is as a friend of mine put it, “the most wonderful time of the year.” 

I’ll be back.

Monday morning quarterbacking

Excellent podcast from House of Run with Malcolm Gladwell wrapping up on the Olympics.  They take on loads of topics, including intersex athletes running in women’s events.  Gladwell dissects the recent NY Times article (and similar) on the topic.  I think this SOS on it is excellent.

Sean O’Day apparently ran the PPA in a g-dam gorrilla suit.  Good God.

Wesley Sandoval took fourth at Leadville in 18:40 and now has the Leadman record in 35:54:55 breaking Travis Macy’s three year old record.  Going into the run race, it seemed that Aish would most certainly get the record as he “only” needed a 19:32 to nab it.  Given his abilities and history, that seemed like a walk in the park.  My fanboy thought going in was that he is too geared to go for the win, crush the race and that it was a coin flip as to whether he’d run 17 hours or 22 hours.  It ended up the latter.  I mean no criticism of Mike, as his stripes are his stripes and the desire to go for it is admirable.  But it can leave a mark.

Looks like summer is over.

King’s implosion from Outward Bound in …a morbid curiosity overtook  me and  I had to check:  I took 7 hours (almost exactly) to cover those last 25 miles.  Max took 7:50. .  Aish took just under seven hours.   Jaime was a little more than that.  I can relate.  A grind to get it done.  Ugh.

Saturday night at Periodic Brewing Bob and I caught up with another Front Range area runner.  We got into a conversation that we had before – the entire conundrum about what we seek in these events: fulfillment or accomplishment.  For me, I am not sure they can be entirely separate, but I get the difference.  You can feel fulfilled even if you have not met the expected goal of the accomplishment.  Ultras embody this more than any other race because the accomplishment is often just to finish.

I have been churning on this thought for a bit.  I could go out and do a 5k on a local track with no one else around, no results posted, no bib or medal to take home.  Or I could run from Harrison to Winfield and back and save a few hundred bucks.  Putting a start line and finish line in the sand does something though, and not just for races.   My son earning the rank of Eagle Scout (if he does) has some importance to him.  Would he learn those skills and values anyway if he was seeking the fulfilment of it versus the accomplishment?  I find for myself I recognize that I am doing these things for some sort of personal fulfillment but the structure of an accomplishment helps drive it. 

Olympics:  yeah, I have been a sucker.  I am as equally as stoked to see some of the performances as I am doubtful about their legitimacy.  But I get sucked in every time.  Even if it was a 4:05 mile for Gold.

PPM:  Dobson has created quite a legacy on the mountain and her double win this past weekend further cements that.  Her record on the Ascent might be even more stout than Carpenters.  She now has six wins on the hill, which pushes her into legendary territory among the women.

Pretty fast double over the weekend (but not for the win) – from yesterday’s comments.  So was Weldemariam's double time the fastest ever? He ran 2:15, 2:19/3:42 for a combined 3:58. It looks like Carpenter ran 2:16, 2:24/3:53 for a combined 6:09 in 2001, and 2:12, 2:23/3:48 for a combined 6:00 in 2007. Of course Matt won all four of those races, so who is to say he couldn't have gone faster if pushed (although in 2007 Mackey was less than 2 minutes back in the marathon, and he only won the ascent by 3 minutes). He also might be the first person to run sub 2:20 on back-to-back days.  My reply:  In 1989 Carpenter went 2:08, 3:39 for a combo of 5:48. I think that is the fastest combo.

By the way Carpenter has 18 wins on the hill.  That is insane.  As I have said before, it gets to a point where the numbers are mind boggling enough that it becomes ho-hum.  If he had 10 wins that would be a big deal.  You sort of lose perspective as to what it means between numbers when it gets that high.

Some audio from Justin in the moments post the Buena Vista race. 

KZ’s latest pic to us this AM.

I was pinged recently by someone who asked why I don’t post my training up here any more.  Basically, I don’t feel like it is training right now … it is exercise.  5 miles a day does not really count for much, particularly when there is not a goal or objective other than maintaining some sort of basic fitness.  It could change though.  The head is geared a bit to getting some performance out of a 5k/10k distance … I’d just have to put a plan in place (other than basic consistency) to make that happen. 

That said, today I grunted on hill repeats over on Jawbone at Buff Ranch.

I owe JT a beer growler for his 3:12 after calling out the other day he wouldn’t break 3:18.  There has been a protest appeal lodged however for DNFing the next day.   Jury is still out.

Leadville 100 weekend

After JZ’s XC time trial on Saturday AM, I headed up to Leadville, specifically the Outward Bound aid station to catch some of the LT action.  I got up there around 2 in the afternoon.  It was almost eerily quiet as the place was essentially abandoned as the morning wave of outbound runners had long past and it was  few hours before the returnees would show up. 

It became a full on aid and crew station for a mountain 100 of course.  After spending a half dozen hours there I made my way back into town with Bob.  We did some hanging out at the finish, and then headed back to his place for a few hours of sleep.  We swung back around in the AM and caught the scene at the finish again.    I got to observe it a bit more than I had, as I had never been up here before to watch the race (only participated last year).  All of it reminded me of a few things …

- 100s are not easy.   Out of all the folks I saw come in, all of them looked at the very least worked in some regard.  I know that sounds obvious but I’d say all but two (Sharman, Stanciu)  that I saw looked pretty messed up.  Even those that were in psuedo good shape were talking about a dark patch or tough stretch they had.  Most were not in good shape and were dealing with the reality that hits you after you have done nearly 80 miles in 12-16 hours.  Wretched stomachs, dehydration, lack of calories, sore legs, blown out connective tissue, chaffing, vomit, blisters, etc.  There were a few that had dropped out here (or sooner), but most were gearing up for their battle up the Powerline and the cooler temps of the night despite having endured this self inflicted misery.  You are essentially signing up to break yourself multiple times over and it    These are tough and well trained people and in some cases elite athletes.  Folks like Aish and King… Broken.  At the finish regular joes are unable to get into a car seat without assistance of people.  The med tent there is not just a precaution, but almost an expected pit stop.  Few have the race they hope for.  Most are riding on a dream and they watch that dream start to turn into a minor nightmare as the sun sets.

100s are effin’ hard.  I really question if it is a smart thing to do.

- If you want to finish with a flourish of a great party at Leadville, run around 28 to 30 hours.  At that time there are hundreds of people out cheering, vendors selling, crews enjoying coffee, etc.  It is a big party out there with Merilee and Ken and your name getting announced over a microphone.   If you finish at 20 hours (or 21 or 22 or in the middle of the night), there ain’t much there.  No lady giving hugs.  A few folks clapping but the music is quiet.  Bob and I congratulated a masters runner that finished under 20 hours – it was really the race of his life.  He was sitting by himself under a heater and contemplating how he’d sleep in his car.  No real fanfare.  Just an odd contrast.

- My head started doing the insidious math that draws people back to these events, especially when I saw folks spending huge chunks of time in the aid station.  I get that 2 minutes extra spent might mean you are better off for the next three hours, but when you see folks messing with stuff for a half an hour… not good math to do.

- Watching the lights from head lamps move across the course from Bob’s house in the middle of the night is definitely a “whoa” moment.

- If anyone ever breaks Carpenter’s record up there, there will be a storm of talk about how the course has changed, what was harder, faster, slower, easier.  From what I gather once you get to Fish Hatchery, there have been a variety of modifications over the years. 

Between Leadville and Pikes, there are a million little stories to tell and to hear and catch up on.  For me, it was great to be up watching this one from the sidelines and spending some time with great people, and even  getting to catch a little inspiration.

Leadville Boom Days 2016

The Leadville race starts its grind up to Mosquito Pass on CR1 right away.  After spinning around the northeast of town for two blocks, you start the climb.  It is all runable but it is still 1000 feet in the first three miles, and you are at 10k feet.  The donks are fresh and eager so the pace is typically enough to remind you that you are doing some work.  Kirt /MM, Justin / Yukon, Hal / Teddy and Jack and I established ourselves as the leaders on the hill but not by much.

Pic by Carrie Schroeder


I would glance back occasionally and see Trevor / Comet and Graeme / Pritzi lurking no more than 50 yards back.  While it seemed we had established a bit of a lead over them, experience has taught me that was essentially no lead:  any small mistake on our part and they would be in the mix.

With the climb all the burros and teams would pause occasionally, including Jack and me.  Rather than get anxious about it in trying to make a break or cover distance loss, I just slowly managed through it, even sometimes relaxing Jack for a few strides as the other teams got back on track.  I felt there was no winning the race in these first few miles and we just had to maintain some degree of basic contact to keep in it.

Kirt and MM seemed to be commanding the race.  Kirt seemed to be running with a fire and confidence that was well earned from his win last week.  It seemed that he’d be able to set for a stronger drive up the hill and make a break on the higher slopes of the Pass if he maintained.  Hal kept on business, looking for any weaknesses but not getting overly eager at any slight mishaps.  He was clearly the vet of the group as he has close to four decades of racing this event.  As the hill grinded on Justin and Yukon struggled a bit and began to lag back.

The race changes around 3.5 miles.  We drop down into the gulch below Mosquito Pass.  At this point Graeme and Trevor and former winner Jeff Bennett (with Jack in 2011) and their donks moved right up on us and so there were six teams in the lead group .  We actually were not moving very quick here even though it was downhill.  As we passed through check point 3, all the teams were present but Trevor and Graeme started to build a fair lead up the hill again.  As the climb started, we all started splinter a bit but about mid hill it was Hal, Graeme, me behind Trevor with our burros.  Kirt and MM started to fall back.

I was really impressed with how Trevor and Comet were going.  Trevor is a big guy, – as in trim but built like a football player versus a little runner type like me.  Cranking that frame up the hill at 13k feet had to be tough.  The climb up Mosquito is a silly slog.  Mostly walking with little bouts of running.  It is runable but the burros had little interest in moving up the rocky scree slopes of the Pass. 

I was fairly sure that there was no prem for a “First Ass to the Pass” like there was at Fairplay, but while Trevor crested first I decided to leave nothing to chance (we crested in just over 2 hours whereas we had been about 6 or 7 minutes faster in the past), Hal tells me they used to always get there better than 90):  he turned off to the right to get a cup of water and I buzzed hard to the Mosquito Pass sign to be the first around it.  We got that but Jack and I paid the price.  Hal/Teddy, Graeme/Pritzi, Trevor/Comet bolted down the hill at a solid trot.  Jack stood fast and had little desire to move and we started walking down.

On the longer stretches on the down as we passed runners still coming up, I could see I was losing the sight of the leaders and then I could soon see they were several switch backs ahead.  I’d get Jack to jog a little but he was not moving quick at all.  The rocky down hill was clearly not to his liking.  I looked down at the leaders again and I guessed they had to be anywhere from 3-4 minutes ahead, or somewhere from a quarter to a half mile. 

My head had two thoughts – we were definitely out of it.  And that I should not give anything up.  There were still 9 miles to race and anything could happen.  I could see Hal had established even a greater leader over Trevor and Graeme (about a 100 yards).  As the old mining road started to level and smooth, Jack and I got a little stride and I could see we were making the slightest dent in their lead.

As we came into the low curves in the gulch, the other teams seemed to struggle and Jack and I made huge gains and as we came back into checkpoint 3, it was a four team race.

I had to grin.  Whatever would happen in the race after this, Jack and I had gone from completely out of it to back into it.  It was amazing.  Tracy had said she had been watching us via binoculars on the slope of Mosquito and was wondering what had happened to us.  “I could see the other teams but you were so far back I could not find you!”  She was surprised that we had got back in it. 

Pic by Carrie Schroeder

We started the climb back out of the gulch and on this Hal and Teddy started fall back a bit.  I was very aware this meant nothing.  If we had bridged the gap we just had a 80 yard gap could easily be gobbled up.  At the same time, I was cognizant that the field was wearing down … for seven teams to six to four and now what looked like three.  And as we started the climb over to California Gulch it looked to become 2 as Trevor / Comet started to struggle.  This is always a hard spot.  The donks know they came from Leadville from the right and they want to go that way, but you have to take them to the left.  It can delay you quite a bit.  Jack and I moved okay (not great) through it.

As we crested the top of the gulch, Graeme and Pritzi moved significantly faster than us through the loose rock and scree.  Again, Jack slowed.  As the gulch opened a touch, I could occasionally see that they had built a substantial lead over us – maybe 200 yards.  Again, I did not feel any anxiety here, but felt an odd confidence.  I knew that Jack would bridge that gap as we got down to the road and as the surfaces smoothed out.  It took us all the way to the the Resurrection Mine, but it happened.  As we passed short course racers (which make for great targets for Jack to bridge gaps), Jack tagged some sections under seven – which is as good as he has run all season.  We evened with Graeme and Pritzi and ever so slowly took a lead.  There was about a mile and a half left to race.

I figured at this point it would come down to a sprint on Harrison Street and given our history in such show downs, I knew that would probably not bode well for us.  We got a slight lead but it was not extending to more than 10 yards.  We started the little turn into town and Jack balked at the turn.  Graeme / Pritzi barreled down the last hill and got about ten yards on us.  We made the turn at the Diamond Shamrock onto Harrison. 

It is about 5 or so blocks from there to the finish.  It is slightly uphill and for the donks it is a complete nut show.  They go from running mountain roads and trails and quiet to the loud noise of the Boom Days Fair, little kid choo choo trains, traffic cones, cars, people, bands, cotton candy, etc.  I got Jack to run about 3 blocks of it.  I think Graeme and Pritzi ran about a block.  That gave us enough separation to secure a win and walk it in comfortable over the last 200 yards.  I am pretty sure it is the closest win we have ever had and the latest in a race that we have had to go to secure one.

This was Jack’s fifth win at Leadville, and our fourth as a team – our third in a row.   With Kirt / Mary Margaret winning last week and our winning this week there will be no Triple Crown winner this year. 

The big take aways were of course not giving up.  Jack and I were not moving well on the downs with the really loose rock, but he did well enough over the entirety of the course that he nailed another win.  This is our 8th win together. 

And again, I am incredibly lucky to be supported by so many wonderful people:  TZ, JZ, my in-laws, Bob and Sue, the Wanns, Bill Lee, LVR and everyone else in the Pack Burro Racing community who says kind words, helps out and provides support. 

I know all burro racers say it is all about the burro, but this race really reiterated that to me.  Clearly it was Jack that determined how we were going to do in this event.  He may not have been the best in any one aspect of the race, but he was strong enough in enough of the challenges of the race that he drove us to a win. 

End of First Week in August

KZ visited Beethoven’s house.  Like in Germany.
 

Running – Thursday …a little over an hour on my feet.  Did 10 soccer diagonals in the middle to mix it up some.
Friday … a touch sore from the sprints yesterday, but not bad.  Around 50 minutes but then a half dozen harder strides.
Saturday – took the day off in prep for Boom Days race.

Good stuff.  Thanks Shad.

Ultimately, it is not about the race, how fast or slow we run, it is about the people and the shared experiences, and that togetherness is for me what makes running in the mountains so meaningful.  Just catching up on the typical Hardrock carnage articles.

Headed up to Fairplay before buzzing over to Leadville for the Boom Days Pack Burro Days Race.   Before heading out of town, we stopped in at the send off for Emma Coburn and Jenny Simpson before they headed to Rio.

Once in the mountains, JZ got a bit of work on the stick on Grandpa’s old Jeep.


We headed over to Leadville to stay at Chauteu Bob.  His million dollar views have been upgraded with burros in the backyard.

The ride home from the weekend.

Amazing summer weekend in the Rocky Mountains.  I will get a post up about the Boom Days race separately.

Selling tours, not beer and a lot of pee

I hit a local brewery last night.  I learned that Georgia laws on how they manage these sort of establishments are significantly more restrictive than CO.  I went in to buy a beer.  I could not buy a beer.  I could buy a tour of their brewery and that got me complimentary beer, up to 36 ounces.  They also were clear that they could not sell their six packs they had bottled, but they would be happy to sell them for off site use as souvenirs.  Apparently the big distributors have a choke hold of the wallets of the legislators here so that the laws won’t be changed.  Hooray. Of course the guys tending the tour (bar) thought that the CO laws were nuts (given our legislation around marijuana). They did have a good IPA though.

AM – easy half an hour of jogging.  And I traveled back home from ATL.

I listened to the latest ATC during the jog this AM and I got a mention.  Lucho specifically calls me out for a being a bit too hard on myself in regards to my Leadville race.  Some of that is in my wiring and choices.  It is hard for me to look at a race and say, “that went perfect.”  And in a 100, as there are so many things that can be considered, and my lack of experience, it is very easy to pick at improvement opportunities.

My mind also is geared to this sort of improvement thinking because of my work.  It is what I do.  I go to various parts of my company and I work with people to consider opportunities, consider risk, and how we can get better.  I am sure some of that carries over to running.

But, yeah, I had a helluva day out there.  It was not perfect in how I performed but that is exactly what makes it so wonderful.  It gave me the opportunity to go right up to those limits, and get punched in the mouth by them.  There is the blessing in that I get to learn from that.  We learn nothing when everything is perfect.  We learn a lot more when things start to go wrong.  Or at least we have the opportunity to.

And of course, I was reminded of how wonderful my summer and my life is.  No mile went by without me considering how gifted I am to get to run in the Rocky Mountains for a 100 of those increments, and that people wanted to come and help me.  People ask how it felt and I think they want to hear how physically brutal it was.  And it was.  But it really felt lovely because that is what I got from people.

That said, I confess … I can see the addictive allure of that race.  “If I can just …” … fill in the blank with manage food or keep my legs together down the Powerline or not barf at Hopeless Pass or whatever you like … the quiet chant in the back of my head of the possibility of improvement is hard to ignore.

But … as I have said, it ain’t the race part that I am worried about.  It is the after impact of the race.  Since Leadville I have been urinating.  A lot.  Full bladder loads, so it not that I have just some urgency but there is actually a need to empty the bladder.  So essentially I am not holding on liquids appropriately.  The urine is dilute (clear, pale yellow).  And that probably reflects that my kidneys are not holding water.  It seems that this is more of an issue at night while I am sleeping, but it might be that I am just more aware of it then because I have to wake up to relieve myself.  For the first week of this, it was also combo’d with some pretty nasty head aches at night.  I imagine this might have been a dehydration thing but I really don’t know.  That part has seem to have subsided and the number of times I get up in the middle of the night has dropped from four to two. 

Obviously this is concerning because it is a symptom of many possible diseases, including some forms of diabetes.  I set up for a visit to the doc today as soon as I got back from ATL to start the process of evaluating this.  The visit went well – I had a good candid conversation with the doc and they got a urinalysis done on a quick turn around.  That gave them a pretty good set of data to conclude that it was not diabetes.  Blood work will take the weekend to process, but the general thought is I beat my kidneys up pretty well and they are on the mend.  More when the lab work comes back next week.

Catching up on a few shots over the last couple of weeks.  I may have already posted some of these.

Justin got a pair of balls.  There is some speculation he might be the only person who has been second in every Triple Crown Burro Race.

It is quite a crowd in the Park County HS gym for the pre-race pep rally.

Carner, a Leadman from years past and a burro racer himself, catches up with this year’s Leadman class members Shad and Ray.

Both these guys got Leadman done.  Whole new level of respect from me on that event because it is a just a consumer of the summer.  Shad had the season of his life and had me wondering if he’d roll me up on the Boulevard. 

Those buckles get big for those folks who do this race a lot of years.

At this point, I am pretty sure this is the only one of these I will get.

More keys to success, points of failure, and crazy ass stuff

Keys to success:  I had a kick ass crew and set of pacers.  The heart of my crew was new this event but any rookie fears they had were overcome with passion – AND that a few members of the crew had tons of experience.  Nick has done more ultras than I will ever do and was vital in keeping the broader crew tied in on what to expect and how to manage the station.  For example, when I was coming up to Treeline (crew access but not formal race aid) Nick said to the crew (I found this out later) “he is hurting.  Don’t let him stop here.”  And they did that.   I also had a JT as a pacer who has five Leadville starts and I think 5 HR finishes.  It was a wonderful blend of new folks dialed into help, and experience to course correct and it really made the broader part of the day go well.  I probably only directly interacted with the whole crew for 30 minutes through out the 24 hours, but those sessions were positive, helpful and kept me moving well.

Points of failure:  that theme is constant.  The things I did not practice reflect where I struggled during the race.  Chalk up night running there.  It is challenging to be up for 24 hours.  To be running after you have been up for 18 and then expect to run for another six into the dark is more challenging (particularly since it seems to be a known fact most of us start to slow in the dark).  I slowed in the dark too.

More crazy stuff … (which is really to say “interesting spirit of the race stuff”)

6.)  The pre race affair at Leadville is exactly what you’d expect it to be.  You have heard the speech”  “Dig deep like them miners.  You are better than you think you are and you can do more than you think you can.  Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”  A lot of the race veterans skip this pep rally (in fact I am pretty sure neither of the eventual winners went to it) but as a first timer I felt obliged to go to get the full experience, and I was glad that I went.  Even if there was an unnecessary 15 minute informercial in the midst of it where a guy read from his iPad

7.)  There is this different level of camaraderie that occurs between runners, crew, pacers and volunteers during this race.  I’d come across another runner and ask, “How you doing?”  and the answer was almost always a loud and resounding “GREAT!” through a large grin.  This of course is partly bullshit because we both knew that we were both hurting, and that there was usually some ridiculous number of miles of suffering to go.  The point is that while we suffer in all races, this race – and probably ultras in general – just give a bit of room to share that with the broader public as a bond. You don’t have those conversations in a 5k.  You wait until afterwards.  But in a 100, you got the time and it is expected that you share, lift and take care of each other.  Maybe just a little bit more.

8.)  Jack met me at Winfield, and as another bookend Bill Lee met me at the base of 6th Street with the family.  And then there was the whole crew and then Andy and Brandon.  I know people do these things without crews and pacers but I was overjoyed to share the moment with this tribe.

Points of failure: moving slow

This is sort of a tricky one.  Bob and I talked about it in the weeks (in fact months leading up to the race).  Essentially the concept is that at some point, everyone in a 100 is moving slow.  Certainly there are guys like Sharman who are not but for the most of us, it is true.  The issue is whether that moving slow is occurring at 20 minute, 15 minute or 10 minute miles. 

The bulk of my running this year was done around the 6-8 minute mile pace.  Occasionally, I’d go “slow” (not counting big hills) but that might be as much as nine pace.  Bob and I wondered how’d I hold up to having to hold hours of 12 minute pace.  Or more specifically if I’d be do that sort of thing since I really had no practice at it. 

There has been some speculation that I got pretty close to Bob on the return up the Powerline … as in within minutes.  But he still beat me by over 80 minutes.  This is nearly all because of the Mayqueen to the finish section where Bob took about two hours and 27 minutes.    It took me 3:38 … or about seventy minutes slower.

It clearly shows where Bob is really bringing game to the race:  late and he wanted to light the fire there to do well.  I instead showed rookie-man-ship and sauntered around Turquoise Lake.

I did struggle to run at those later phases.  It was less about a length of stride, but actually the ability to get a run cadence going.  I could power walk at a 17 minute mile pace but I could not muster up a 160, or 170 turn over per minute.  It reflected a lack of experience, a lack of prep for that and the general break down that occurred for me at the later miles. 

Crazy ass stuff part 1

There is just a lot of crazy ass stuff that happens in 24 hours.  And when you run in the mountains for 24 hours, there is more than usual it seems.  Here are a few before I forget: 

1.)  It has been described hundreds of times but … the lights around Turquoise Lake as the runners start and head out Mayqueen.  You know how you know exactly what the Grand Canyon or Mount Rushmore or Stonehenge are going to look like even before you get there.  And then you see it and it is both a feeling of “yup, that is exactly what it is supposed to look like”  and “holy crap it is here and it is all the very iconic and amazing thing I thought it was and more even though it is what I thought it would be I can feel a connection with it!”

Yeah, it was the second one.  You looked back and saw the light and it is exactly that:  a line of lights.  But it is more than that:  it is a line of light representing stories of people, successes and failures to come, and the energy of some 600 humans engaging their little Olympics.

2.)  Jack got brought out to Winfield.

I described it before but the whole affair was a capstone on the amazing burro racing summer that Jack and I have had. Tim and Angela made it happen for Jack to get up there and it was so cool to see him at this point in the race.  And when I tried to “rope up” with Jack, he decided to do what we do and that is run at seven minute pace.  In all other races this year I would have welcomed that but I had no gas like that for Jack on this day.  Apparently he was quite the popular celebrity out there.

3.)  As previously mentioned, the Powerline aid station at 85 miles is simply described as some crazy ass stuff.

4.)  The Outward Bound and Twin Aid Stations … okay, I have run in races where folks are cheering for you.  Heck, I have had the benefit of coming down the finish to have people come out of a bar and yell for you to win that World Championship (damnit!).  But when you come into these areas it is … it sort of felt like walking onto the stage as a rock star.  Particularly dropping into Twin.  The announcers bring your name over the PA.  People you have not seen in a long time are there and smiling for you and wishing you luck. 

In Twin, in addition to the support I got from my crew and my family, I had a conversation from Nick Clark (“about time you manned up and did this one boy!”), a high five from Peter Maskimow, a hug from Brandon Fuller, pictures taken by Amy D, Neeraj D, Patrick G, a song played for me by Henry G at the Flatirons tent, and then there was some group of 20 high schoolers screaming cheerings and giving high fives like I was Dave Grohl or something.  You have been in the woods for 3 hours or so and then you come into this buzz of life and positivity and it is FOCUSED ON YOU MAN BECAUSE YOU ARE THE EFFING MAN AND YOU GOT THIS BRO YOU LOOK GREAT. 

DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?  (even offered a beer).

How can you not be positive in light of all that?

5.)  The Llamas at Hopeless.  Okay, yes … it too is exactly what you expect.  But it is pretty freaking awesome to see 30 completely calm untethered llamas hanging out in a mountain meadow at 12000 feet on a blue bird sky day while 50 feet away people are losing their cookies, and starting to realize what they have really signed up for.

More on this, points of failure, points of success to come.

Continuing the recovery, looking back and forward.

Another day, some more fluids, some more calories and I am almost back to normal.  I went into my office today.  That was good because it forced me out of the house.  I think TZ had about enough of me working from home this week.  It probably does not help that I was pretty much sitting in the office in Queen of Hearts boxers all day and occasionally breaking into tears for no good reason. 

I went to bed after back to school night around 8:30.  Yup.  After weeks and months of blogging about training runs and travel, you will now get to read about my naps, work and following of my children to their parent teacher conferences where I ask questions about constructivist pedagogy to throw the educators off balance. 

I was beat and had a head ache building.  Put the fan blasting on me as I passed out and then half an hour later I was freezing.  So the fan went off.  And then half an hour later I was hot.  So the fan went on.  This went on a bunch of times through the night.  So maybe I am fighting some sort of fever.  The funky dreams borderline night mares seem to indicate so. 

There is also the part where I went to the bathroom four times in the middle of the night.  I am not sure if that is a function of me catching up on hydration or if I have done something to put my kidneys into overdrive (or alternatively if they are just open doors at this point and everything just passes through). 

Wait – I woke up at 7AM.   How exciting is that?!  And I had a head ache. 

The legs are a bit weak still of course, but as my job requires me to sit at a desk and type, that is not a big deal until I stand up to go to … the bathroom.  No stairs for this guy this week – it will be all elevator.

Pic by JT heading out of Twin as he offered me a beer.  I declined.  Apparently I could still lift my knees.

Apparently because I am having a wuss of a time with my recovery I have misrepresented my experience at Leadville.  Let me be clear:

It was pretty flipping awesome.  It was a great capstone to an amazing summer.  I had already had enjoyed an amazing summer of family, friends, burros, running, mountains, laughs, travel around the globe … had I not even done this race it would be a summer that represent a string in time of amazing love, luck, and levity.  But I did do this race.  And I did pretty well for me.  More specifically, I did very well for me for the first seventy five miles and then I struggled for the last 25.  In fact as this only the second time I ever have gone more than 50 miles, I ran probably my best segment from 55 to 75 … and yeah, I had a pretty damn good melt down in the last 25 miles, but I was able to keep it glued together enough to get it done.  It was an awesome race with awesome experiences and lovely family and friends, inspiring runners and community and the host of grit and introspection that a hundred miler gives a newbie like me that thinks too much.

Side note – I certainly was not at Leadville in the past years but I have to say this year just seemed very well run as I compare it to other races.  The staff were professional.  The course was well marked.  The results were apparently up very quickly.  The aid stations were pretty comprehensive.  I don’t have a depth of looking across hundreds, but this one seemed just fine to me.  And yeah, I am fine without Leadville having a qualifier … it worked for me.  Basically if a race wants to have a qualifier, that is fine.  But if a race wants to be like Leadville and says, “it’s a free country moron.  Lay down your entry fee and you can try this!” I respect that too.  And yeah, if you are dumb enough to get killed (or set yourself to be in the bathroom five times a night) that ain’t the races fault. 

Already the question has come up if I will return.  I won’t say I am done, but I am certainly not committing to that now or in the near term.  While there is a draw to the race, and of course the question if I can improve on this year’s effort, I find it hard to ignore what this thing is doing to me now.  It is not the race I don’t want to do … it is this part that I am pretty sure is not right. 

And besides, a mile might be a lot more fun. 

(PS – WTF is up with that aid station at the top of the Powerline?!)

Points of success: CFM

This is pretty basic.  I kept moving.  All day long.  There were brief breaks at the aid stations but both my crew and I kept us moving along well.  At Mayqueen the crew had laid out gear on the side the road and as it was early that was a quick turn around (drop the head lamp, drop the warm hat, drop the coat, drop the gloves, kept the long shirt, refilled bottles, got the Ipod and some calories) (side note, this next section was the only place where I ended up listening to music and it was Daft Punk’s Tron).  I took the AM potty break there.  Short transition.

Same sort of drill at Outward Bound except there was no change of clothing and I dropped the ipod off.  It is a short punt (5 miles) over to Treeline from there.  I barely had anything to drink from my topped off bottles there.  I changed shirts into the singlet as it was starting to warm up.  I was actually starting to dawdle there a bit but Nick would have none of it and he shooed me effectively out of the station and down the road.

There is no crew at Halfpipe so I just watered up and got some cals there.  I guess if there was a first bad patch it was in this section from Outward Bound to Twin … I was a bit surprised as to how crappy I felt so early, and it was a bit discouraging (but I kept the mindset appropriate as I mentioned previously).

At Twin Lakes outbound I also recall a quick transition.  In some regard the run became … I dunno, almost a dream?  Or out of body?  It sounds silly to say that because I was very much aware of what was going on in my body but when I look back at it, it seems like I am looking at like a dream or it did not happen.  I can’t remember if I took a chair in Twin or not, but I don’t think I did.  Again, it felt like a quick transition – just focused on the cals and water and maybe transfer of a few things. 

Now by quick, I don’t mean that I was flying through the aid like Tony. 

I told my crew these were not Indy pit stops but I wanted to just be generally moving.  And I was.  There was maybe some little stops to collect gear and then walking to collect stuff up. 

The race climb up Hope sort of changes everything.  From Twin you climb over 3000 feet to 12600 from Twin.  There was no running of this section for me and so it was just an on going grind up.  But it was left, right, left over and over and over again.  I took quick aid at Hopeless and I saw guys sitting in chairs and decided that I was most decidedly not doing that.  If I was not moving, the clock was and that did not help finish this thing. 

I sucked the downhill in Winfield.  The grade is stupid enough down in many places that I can’t find the wheels to run it.  I got a bit of a break on the lower grade Sheep Gulch Trail but my pace was still pretty slow. 

For the first time in Winfield, my crew TOLD me to take a chair.  And I gladly agreed.  Nick said, “10 minutes here can save you a lot more out there” and I was happy to give in.  I changed the shoes, socks, shirt, stocked up the fuel for the climb back over Hope.  I got a little walk out with Jack.  It was nice here because I picked up Tim G as a pacer and essentially he could hold EVERYTHING.  I did not think I was burdened by this stuff previously but once I dumped it after 50 miles, it felt nice to be free of it.  I think this and maybe Twin back were my longest breaks because of the shoe changes.

Back at Twin, again, once I crossed the street and got about a half block up I was met by friends and so I stopped the jog to the walk and took to the chair there as well.  I got a sock change, shifted up some clothing for the cooler temps of the night.  I headed out with JT.  The climb out of Twin is not brutal, but it has a bite.  JT and I went to the hike and after a couple of miles we hit the nice patches of the Colorado Trail and I even felt good enough to hit a few stretches at maybe mid 8 pace.  This might be the best I felt during the race.  By saying that, I felt like complete crap.  I was not fresh.  I had over 60 miles in my legs from the race, but I could see how the pain had reached some threshold and was not going to increase dramatically from there.  If I could keep cadence, I could keep some pace … and I managed to do this for about a dozen of those miles with JT.
Shuffling back into Twin at 60 miles.  Pic by Neeraj Engineer.

Another short non sitting transition at both HalfPipe and Treeline, we made our way into Outward Bound.  I can’t recall if I sat there or not.  I don’t think so but it was a little longer as the crew tried to get some food into me and I took a bathroom break (a rather alarming one that would send me to the doc if I had not been doing a 100).   Plus we geared up a bit for the cooler night time temps and the dark.  And then I was off with Nick.

Side note … that was about 8:30.  So basically my crew had been up since 3AM (at least) waiting on my ass.  And now I am gonna take another seven hours to go 25 miles.  Damn.

Same sort of drill over Powerline, back down into Mayqueen – and no sitting in Mayqueen.  There was no outright shut down where I just burned out for those last 20 miles but by the time I had reached the top of the Powerline, the big cooking had been done and it played out down the Colorado Trail to the Lake and then especially around the Lake back to town.  There was little running there.  Well, I tried to run but it was this silly shuffle jog thing that maybe got me 16 min/mile pace. 

But the point of success:  there was really no BIG stops.  I saw people taking long times in aid stations.  I saw folks sitting on their poles on the trail.  I saw people taking selfies on top of Hope Pass.  Now – it is their race and maybe that is what they needed to complete it (perhaps without that rest they would have not finished) … but for me I think stopping like that would … only want me to stop more.  And that does not help.

CFM.  Constant Forward Motion.  If you ain’t moving forward, the current of time is gonna take you backwards.

Points of failure: downhill running.

Another element of my slowing in Leadville was the lack of practice that I had at specific types of running that occur in that race.  One type of the was downhill running.

I came off the Powerline and started the run around on 300 to the Outward Bound aid station.  At this point, 20 miles in, I was supposed to feel fine.  I had come down the Powerline very easy (9-10 minute pace). I still had a lot of running to do, including several more big climbs over Hope Pass, back over the Powerline and the less talked about but significant climb out of Twin back.  But my legs were already protesting pretty loudly.  I felt tired and sore.

Why did this happen?  First, while I got in a bunch of downhill running in my training, I probably did not get enough.  It is one thing to run down Green hard for 3 miles after pushing up it for that long, but it is a different stimulus to deal with that after 20 miles of running.  If I wanted to prepare for this, I would have done long runs, with a long downhill run at the end.  So maybe the class up and down 20 miler on Flag or even better Sunshine Canyon would do the trick (but maybe not, to the next point).

Pic by Rish McSparren … coming into Treeline starting to wonder:

Second, I think the grade of the Powerline is such that it is more aggressive than what I was used to.  Coming down the gentle grade of Green’s “Middle Route” is different than coming down the steeper grades of the line. 

Third, simply 3-8k of vertical a week, while probably considered hilly for a roady, is not enough for assuring ready legs in the actual hills.  This year is probably the most vertical that I put together in a season, and while it got me through and thus by some measure was adequate, I can also see how its short comings.

Fourth, and finally … if I am honest … I could feel the fatigue of the burro races.  Even as I was attempting to unload that from my legs in the two weeks between the last burro race in Leadville and this ultra in Leadville, I could knew it was not completely disappearing.  This is a tough read for me because I tend to slough these feelings off as being overly sensitive or soft and that it will work out.  And for most distances it will.  For something as dramatic as a hundred, not so much.  In retrospect, I probably could not have run a mile between the Leadville Burro Race and this 100 and been better off.  The fatigue that I collected from the 60 miles plus of racing a burro, including a the up and down in those left me more taxed than my ego cared to admit.

Pic by Shad Mika, struggling up the stairs post race Sunday at Bob’s.

And so yes, for those who have been wondering about my thoughts on Pikes in retrospect, that would have been a bad idea.  I won’t say there is no way I would not have finished the LT race with Pikes in the mix, but there is no doubt it would have been much more challenging, and slower.  I am glad that Jack figured out a way (he is smarter than me in many regards) to avoid that challenge.  I also have a new perspective and appreciation for Dave Mackey’s eye roll when I mentioned the idea to him in the first place.

More points of failure coming up but I promise there will be points of success too,

The most unique pacer ever

We all love our pacers.  These folks keep us going when we don’t want to go.  They keep us fed and drinking.  They take time out of their weekend to watch you sweat, drool, stumble, cry, whine, so that you can get some silly belt buckle. 

I love my pacers for what they did for me. 

I had an unexpected pacer though.  Tim Johnson and Angela Romero made the trip from Laughing Valley Ranch with the blessing of Bill Lee to bring out the only pacer that could be called a World Champion and Triple Crown winner.  I came off the trail into the road to Winfield … and there was my partner in the dream season:  Jack.

I picked up Jack (who seemed to be enjoying himself with the attention from the crowds, and the plenty of grass to be eaten) on the way out with him on the rope … and without missing a beat, Jack did what Jack and I do:  we ran.  Small problem with that – Jack thought we were supposed to be going at about 7 minute pace.  I was not going to do seven minute pace after 50 miles of running.  He was killing me and I thought my hamstrings were going to end up on the side of the road.  I let go of the rope after a short stint and Tim fetched him up.  I could not keep up with this guy as the pacer for today.

It was so amazing to connect up with him out there and to have folks like Tim and Angela be so thoughtful to make that happen.  Thank you!

Points of failure: Food.

On whole I look at my Leadville 100 run as a success.  I got it done, and it even came under 24 hours (not to down play anyone’s performance there but some of my colleagues indicated that the big buckle would need to be “asterisked” if I came between 24 and 25 hours).  Basically I kept moving forward all day, and had no time where I was laying on the side of the trail. 

But I can also see the points of failure.  Or the items that created problems as the race went on.  And as you might expect these are the things that I did not effectively practice in my training.  In short these are:  taking in of calories, running at slower paces, steeling of the quads for the downhills, trail running, and night running.  All of these become more critical in the run later in the run – and when you look at how I split Leadville, you see the last 25 miles took me some seven hours – and how my failures to manage these successfully added up in the last sections.

First … food consumption (other points of failure in other posts).  I did okay on taking in calories throughout the first part of the race, but even there I was struggling to get a lot in.  It was a bit of an act of will to choke back a Cliff Bar or a gel.  These just seemed like cuds of crap in my mouth and I had to use a lot of water or Gatorade to get them down.  And I think my stomach got tired of the sweeter stuff.  In fact, today I saw a gel in the bags still needing to be unpacked and I almost gagged at the thought of it. 

As the day wore on, I was obviously operating more and more in a deficit.  I was getting in some calories with bars, chips, mashed potatoes and shot blocks and it seemed like I was full at the time, but in retrospect it was hardly enough.  Today even a couple of days after the event I am close to 10 pounds lighter than my regular weight. 

I will add in that I was dealing with cramps early in the race – as soon as Outward Bound on the way out.  In light of that, I decided to take ibuprofen there and then took it a couple more times during the race.  It seemed to stave off the cramps, but I am sure it did little to help the nature of my gut.  I think it was a small amount (2 tabs at Treeline, 2 at Twin, 2 more at Outward Bound inbound) but I certainly would not prescribe that to anyone. 

Coming off Hope, I took in some Coke and broth from the Hopeless Aid Station up there.  I think the Coke was actually Coke syrup that they had thinned with water.  I think I got a batch that was a mixed a bit too rich.  About 3/4 of a mile below the station, it all came back up uncontrollably.  Tim G, my pacer at the time, was so cool with this.  “Okay, that is cool man.  Good stuff.  It is out now.”  And we kept moving (yes, an odd point of pride is that I puked in full stride and did not stop).  Don’t ask what a Coke broth combo looks like – you already know.

This is with about 45 miles left to go.

If my stomach had been bad before that, it was pretty much retired for the day at this point.  My crew and pacers would try to get me to take various things later throughout the day and night.  Mashed potatoes, watermelon, shot blocks, turkey wraps … and I choked some of it down, but it was not a lot and it was … difficult.  I realized that I needed to get some of this down of course, but as the evening wore on I got to a point of “eh, whatever, I only have five or so hours left.”  Pic by Brandon Fuller.

Nick P – my final pacer from OB to the finish REALLY tried to get me to eat.  “GEORGE!  You need to eat something.  You are going to be out here for another six hours!”  I think he passed me a turkey wrap that I got a bite out of and then the rest ended up in my pocket (I better go find that before it gets in the laundry).

As I have stated here multiple times, I have not practiced food consumption on my shorter runs.  Frankly I don’t need to take in calories on a three hour easy run (or limited to Gatorade on longer burro runs).  But the lack of this practice showed once I got to the longer distance and time. 

Of course this has an impact on your ability to perform.  No calories, no gas, no go.  Admittedly my stomach issues were not as bad as some.  I saw folks leveled on the side of the trail or road who were unable to move because their guts had gone sour.  Thankfully, I was able to keep some semblance of CFM even with my minor gut woes.

Pic by Brandon Fuller

How do you feel?

TZ continues to nurse me back to health (she is incredible).  While I very much geared my head into having a positive and upbeat attitude during the Leadville race, I have been challenged to continue be as such in this recovery.   I have not been outright negative, but I have not been able to simply embrace that the state I am in is its own reward of sorts.

Rather than write a single Leadville race report, I think I will write up a few smaller contributing reports – with each addressing some element or topic about the race.  In this post, I will try to hit on some of the aspects of attitude.

It was clear to me in conversations with others, scientific research, and personal experience that success in an event like a 100 miler has a large physical component – but regardless of how physically strong you are – your head had to be dialed on right.  In a jog a few weeks before Leadville, Lucho and I talked about this extensively. 

We talked about how one reaches a level of pain in these events, and it sort of levels out there.  It is true.  My legs were thrashed pretty early (by Outward Bound outbound, or about 25 miles) but the level of hurt in them only nominally increased throughout the race (other things built on top of the legs protesting, but they continued to protest at about the same level of volume for the next 75 miles).

So in your head you can get to 25 miles and say to yourself “aw crap, my quads are shot from the Powerline.  I have 75 miles to go.  I CAN’T possibly do that.  This sucks.  This is not how I want this to go.” 

Or you can choose otherwise.  Those negative thoughts come in, and I am not saying you have to not have them, but I think I tried to see them in light of everything else that was going on.  And that everything else was incredibly positive.

I was running in one of the most iconic races in Colorado.  I was running at the foot of some of the highest mountains in the Rockies.  I had just experienced the most wonderful summer of running and travel in my life.  I was being supported by people far and wide that had come out to the event to pace me, crew me and cheer for me.  People I had never met before were wishing me the best and thanking me for sharing the experience of running and burro racing through this blog.   It was a beautiful day with the sun rising as I came down the Powerline.  I had the gift to be able to do this.  

So when asked, “how do you feel?” rather than answer with a “my quads are shot, I feel like crap” (which was true of course), I felt compelled to answer “I feel loved.”  Because that was the bigger truth. 

I felt this was important to share in the aid stations – crew access as well.  I did not want to come into the station – where my crew may have been waiting for hours for me – and blast them with negativity.  In my mind it would only be a seed for concern and bad times for them.  If I came in and whined about how horrible things were or even snapped at them, they would have only that short interaction to consider until they saw me again several hours later.  If I kept it positive, perhaps this ridiculous affair I was engaged in could be a little better for them.

Often when coming on other runners (being passed or passing them) we’d ask each other how the other was doing.  Typically we gave each other the obligatory “great” with a goofy grin – almost sarcastic but what many of us shared with each other all day.  In fact, one runner said to me, “keep smiling man … it is all we can do.”  There were other runners that were not of this attitude.  You could almost predict they were not going to make it and likely to drop at the next aid. 

Of course, the mindset does not absolutely assure success.  You can’t just say “hey, I am gonna have a positive mental attitude and everything is gonna be great.”  No.  Of course I could have had some sort of physical failure (broken bone for example) or other break down that could have sunk the ship.  And of course, I was not a shiny happy person the entire time (more on that in a future post).  But if I did not have this mindset for at least the majority of the race, I am sure it would have ended in failure.

Is this simply recanting what Ken says at the pre-race briefing?  “You are better than you think you are and you can do more than you think you can!” Absolutely. 

It is a lesson to life that I am still learning to apply.  In today’s recovery and beyond.  How you feel, be it in an ultra or in a relationship or at work or whatever is very much in the span of your own control.  I have little control over that now, but I will continue to look to have the discipline to gain greater control over such.

36 hours later … or death warmed over

It has been about 36 hours since I have finished the Leadville Trail Run 100 mile event.  I will do a full race report for that event at some point.  But right now … I don’t have the energy.  Not like just not having the energy when you are lazy or want to do something else.  No, I am pretty much a puddle of flesh over here, unable to walk effectively, struggling to eat and drink and passing out for hours at a time. 

I woke this AM needing to go to the bathroom, and I was finding myself tired and sore enough that I laid there for about 20 minutes getting the will to get up and do it.  I crawled to the can.  Yes, I literally crawled.  And I can tell you that while I am short, I am tall enough that I can “make clearance” from being on my knees. 

I have a good number of tales like this from the last 36 hours,  I’d share more but I don’t have the energy.  Yes, I know this is really weak ass crap, but I feel that crappy. 

More to come on the race and all the lovely and wonderful people that made it possible for me.  It has been an amazing year.  Thank you.

Thursday 20AUG2015

No running today. 

JZ started his freshman year today …

I expect to have this sort of expression the entire run for the weekend:

To that end, I started to put my race face on.  Smiles coming later.


Feedback that I got and that I will look to keep in mind with every step and breath …  And above all else, if you only do ONE thing, stay positive. Once you start to allow negative thoughts to creep in it'll drain you and you will struggle physically. As long as you're positive and in a good head space then your body will perform well.

Shad boils it down quick.

Elevation Trail has back to back homers with Anton on the current show (after Nick C on the last).  Another thoughtful, articulate guy.  Every time I have dealt with him, he has been nothing but just a cool easy to get along with guy.  In fact, the first time I did a hundred, I got this great note from him about how to approach it.  I did not ask him for this advice.  He freely offered it. 

1) You've carved out a certain financial and time commitment to this endeavor, so you owe it to yourself (and maybe your family?) to not give up (easily). This requires that you stand on the starting line Saturday morning with the absolute, rock-solid, internal conviction to FINISH. NO MATTER WHAT (barring injury/health issues). The bottom line is that if you start with anything less than that kind of conviction, it will be way too easy to rationalize a DNF to yourself when the going gets tough past miles 60, 70, 80 that you will almost certainly regret later. Of the two 100s I've DNFed the first was because I didn't have that conviction and the second was because of health concern/being completely incapacitated and incapable of further forward movement.
2) I'll save you the suspense and let you in on the little secret that after 45mi or 50, or 80 it is STILL JUST RUNNING. There is no magic.* Success/satisfaction (finishing) is mostly determination, stubbornness and tolerance for suffering. Be mentally prepared that any prolonged discomfort you've encountered on Pikes or in any other long run will be total child's play (seriously) compared to what is virtually guaranteed to happen on Saturday. It's stupid how much these things hurt. Or maybe I've just been doing it wrong?
3) You will HAVE to eat more than you have thus far in your longer efforts. Period. Plan out a regimented fueling strategy to follow from the start and stick to it. Finishing will be almost completely dependent on your ability to get as close to 200-300cal/hr as possible down the hatch (and have it stay down).
4) Nick touched on it, but from the very beginning go at what feels to be a stupid, awkwardly slow pace for the first 60ish miles. You'll be so happy you did, later.
5) Stay in the moment. Be prepared to adjust expectations on the fly. Tiered goals are key to staying in the game mentally.
But, seriously, I'm a massive novice at this stuff. Heck, Tim L has finished as many 100s just this summer as I have in my entire life!
*There actually is some magic. The magic is that you can be feeling phenomenally shitty--even at some point shockingly and discouragingly early in the day--and if you just keep plugging away, things will eventually turn around. It's true. That experience is the revelation of running 100 miles. Don't give up.

Off to Leadville now for a few days of celebration.  Catch you on the other side.  Live it and make your teeth sweat.

Tuesday 18AUG2015

So of course there is the Leadville preview.

David authors a basics on hill climbing article.

No running today.  I feel awesome.

The Animas reopened today.  The tag line in the video “all cleaned up!” is sort of comical.