Temps
54 degrees at Start
75-80 degrees at 4 hours w/ intermittent cold rain
Course
An out & back marathon run almost entirely on mining roads, jeep trails with about 1.5 miles on road & another 2 miles on single-track trails.
Elevation Description
Race starts in downtown Leadville at 10,200 ft. It climbs 2000+ feet to Ball Mountain, which the course skirts, & then descends 1000 feet to the 10 mile aid station where the toughest climb begins to reach the summit of Mosquito Pass at 13,200. The course then turns around & retraces the same course.
Race Report
We’d driven the first 5K of the course the afternoon before the race & were certainly very concerned about the incline’s refusal to abate throughout the time we were forced to turnaround in the 4x4 Dodge Durango rental Carrie was driving. We had a map but couldn’t tell if we’d hit the aid station or not. On the way back into Leadville we measured that, in fact, we had not gotten to the 3.8 mile aid station. This was very discouraging to me.
Also discouraging was the fact that the course was almost entirely mining roads or jeep roads. Where were the pine cushioned single tracks & high alpine meadows? While we certainly were graced with beautiful view, I was more than a little perturbed to learn that this would likely be a very ugly race course.
We were staying in Twin Lakes, with HCTR member, Charlie Gandy, & left there for the 30 min drive into Leadville. The sky had a few clouds but it looked like a good sign for weather. Locals indicate that if there are morning clouds you can expect showers earlier than the afternoon. We were happy to note that the weather appeared to be good.
My goal for going into this race was primarily to get a good solid training run in at elevations that would approximate the Pikes Peak course. My goal was to try to get at or under 4 hours on this course. I thought it might be a stretch but was adamant about needing to be under 4:15 to be in the hunt for my ridiculous goal of sub-4 hours at Pikes Peak in August.
We parked & made our way to the very low-key start line in downtown Leadville. We shuffled, rechecked fuels & drinks & got ready for the countdown.
We were off at 8 AM.
The first mile of the race course was on pavement the transitioned to packed dirt road as we climbed out of Leadville. I was determined to remain on the heels of leaders for the first few miles, at least. I was positioned in about 5th or 6th place at the point where the half marathoners continued ahead & the marathoners pulled off to the right. At this point I was not happy to see that I was in 2nd place. I looked behind me & saw a loosely bunched pack of 4 runners directly behind me with a string of contenders in a single file line behind them. I determined to just continue at my effort until I was overtaken but the pack & get on their tail & ride as long as possible.
In the pack behind me was an old training partner from my short stint in Alamosa in 1994, Daniel Vega. Dan had been doing very well over the last few years at ultra distances. He’d placed second to Matt Carpenter at the 2005 Leadville 100M & won the San Juan Solstice 50M. I knew he’d be a good runner to run close to. I also figured Paul Koch, the two-time winner of this race would be back. I saw that he was leading the pack of four directly behind me. Also tucked in the pack was the eventual winner, Anton Krupicka, a bearded, long haired recent graduate of Colorado College.
As we continued to climb the pack caught me & started to pull away ever so slightly. I would choose to walk the steepest sections, careful not to overextend myself on what I knew to be a very long climb with almost no significant break in grade. I was very happy to see that, though I would lose some ground to the 3 runners in front of me, I would easily make it back on the less steep sections. This helped me take my mind of the relentless climbing we were doing. The terrain was rocky, uneven jeep road & I found myself frequently switching ruts in the road to find the best footing. I could hear Dan’s heart rate monitor beeping just behind me letting me know when I was putting ground on him & when he was gaining. Though annoying, it was a very useful tool that helped me keep track of both the runner behind me & the runners I could see in front of me.
As we headed into the first aid station I got a quick drink of water, as my Heed was too concentrated to make drinking it palatable. I dumped the water in the handheld picked up another to whet my whistle & poured the rest on my head. I was still well positioned between the lead runners who were bunched as a pack of 3 & Dan who I was starting to gradually lose. The course drops off from this aid station, which we will come back by in 3.3 miles, & descends the first of two nice descents, even as we continue to climb. The course quickly moved out of the tree line as we began to loop around Ball Mountain.
It was here that I made my first critical mistake of the race. At this point the lead pack is about 10-20 seconds ahead of me, as we skirted Ball Mountain we came to a patch of snow that I didn’t want to lose my balance in & I walked through it. Immediately after this patch of snow there was a quick, steep uphill. I continued walking up the steep section & as I was coming over the top of it I put my head down & started to run. I quickly crested the hill & came down a dusty jeep trail. I looked up & didn’t see any of the leaders. I didn’t find this unusual as I’d lost sight of them numerous times before as they’d wind around hillocks & down dips. I started to push as it looked like I was going to get another nice downhill section. I poured it on for about a half mile when I heard a yell, “SISSON!” from above me. I stopped dead in my tracks & yelled, “FUCK!” I knew immediately that it was Dan hollering at me that I was off course. I stopped, turned & saw him above me on a ridge. I immediately backtracked, uphill about 400 meters to a very steep side trail that went straight up to the trail Dan had been on. I scrabbled up it about 200 meters & saw the lead woman pass the point I was rejoining the race course. Ahead of here were two other runners & Dan, not to mention the leaders, was nowhere to be seen.
My second critical mistake came immediately after I rejoined the course. I had missed a quick left onto a single track trail that was winding along the side of Ball Mountain. I quickly came up on the lead woman & she let me pass. I could see the now 7th place runner about 200 meters ahead of me in a black shirt. I couldn’t see any of the other runners or the course as we bent around the mountain. I caught the runner in black very quickly announce I was coming around on the left & really surged past him so I could get a better view as we rounded the bend. What I saw next deeply discouraged me. Ahead I could see two runners who seemed at least a half mile ahead. I could only make out the colors of their shirts. I could not see the leaders or Dan. I couldn’t believe that I’d lost that much ground in what seemed such a short time. I really started to try to catch the runners in front of me. I was pushing too hard to maintain but I wasn’t thinking clearly as I was angry about getting off course. I’m a race director & this course was well-marked. I’d just lost glimpse of the trail at the wrong place & time & made a critical error.
I rounded through the 7.1 mile aid station (which is the same as the first aid station…we’d just done a 3.3 mile loop around Ball Mountain) frustrated & skipped it altogether. The next section of the course dropped almost 1000 ft. & I really tried to push down this section. I had begun talking very negatively to myself & figured began to wonder why I was running this race or why I still raced at all. I certainly wasn’t having any fun & this section of mining road did nothing to make me feel any better about my situation. There were exposed rock walls; huge piles of rock & dirt; rusted, abandoned machinery & a brutal, kick in the throat view of Mosquito Pass in front of us. Its serpentine ascent reminded me of the Frodo & Sam’s view of Mount Doom only this was exposed, ugly mining country not Mordor.
I caught the runner in red as I descended down this ugly landscape. I saw in front of me about 200 meters a tall lanky runner in orange & at the foot of the descent, I saw my first glimpse of Dan, maybe 500-600 meters below but at least 800 meters ahead. The leaders were gone. It was impossible to tell where they were because the course gained ground again & they were out of sight.
I slowly began to give up. The hard effort of trying to catch up combined with the frustration& disappointment of going of course just sapped my remaining energy & drive. Even though I was descending, my legs felt fried. It was going to be a long climb to Mosquito Pass.
I finally hit the 10 mile aid station, spent & discouraged. Up ahead I could see the very steep, winding dirt road that ascended Mosquito Pass. Everything was right there, in full view, no way to avoid the next 3+ miles of climbing. As we came to the 10 mile aid station we merged with the Heavy Half Marathoners. They had had a considerably easier time in their getting to this point that the marathoners had. I found myself very near the back of this string of runners. Though I began to catch them I too was being caught by all the runners that I had stupidly pushed hard to pass. The climb began in earnest & I looked up to see that though I was being caught, we were all catching the runner in orange & Dan who was now walking most of the climb. I was feeling very spent & decided to conservatively make the ascent to the Pass. I wouldn’t be able to make up ground on too many folks but I wanted to ensure that I had a chance to catch them on the descent. The rest of the climb is a blur save for a few recollections. I caught Fred, who was doing the heavy half with a torn meniscus & a heart of gold. Fred had registered as Brewster McDuff & I yelled, “Out of the way, McDuff!” He smiled & hollered to keep moving. Later, Fred told me he’d had to work hard to refrain from telling me just how far ahead of me the leaders were. He figured they were 20 min or more in front of me. I was appreciative of his silence on the matter as I was just beginning to feel good again. I was passed by the lead female & the guy in the red shirt but I was gaining on the Dan, who’d been passed by the guy in the orange shirt. The leaders came screaming back own the hill. Paul was leading Anton only by 30 or so seconds & the 3rd place runner was another minute behind him. I knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were gone. I finally caught Dan about 400 meters from the turn around at the top of the pass. He jokingly called me a wuss & I agreed wholeheartedly with his assessment.
I reached the top of the pass in 2 hours & 17 minutes and didn’t feel any noticeable negative effects from the altitude, other than needing to slow to a crawl as I came up the pass. At the top of the pass I stopped for a minute. I passed my handheld to a volunteer & downed a whole can of Sprite before he gave it back to me. I looked down the road & thanked the volunteers. I was hoping the second half would be better than the first.
I immediately knew that I would have to be conservative on the descent. My quads were buckling a little bit. This was very surprising to me as I’d never felt that sensation before. I got into a rhythm, picking lines to avoid the runners below. I started to feel better & better with each passing minute. I love to descend & the change in perspective helped me regain my competitive drive. I decided that I would do everything I could to get back into 4th pace, where I was before I’d gone off course.
I caught the first female a little over half way down to the aid station. I was very happy to see Abe, looking strong, & Marty, not looking so good, as I neared the bottom of the descent. I caught the 5th place runner at the foot of the descent & pushed the little climbs & descents all the way into the aid station. Just before the aid station I saw Joe Huerta, a RunTex employee & friend who had tried for 3 years to get me to come up to run this race. I encouraged him to keep up the good work. By this time I was in a very good mood.
I came through the 10 mile aid station on the way back & knew that I hard well over 1000 feet to regain before I’d be able to take advantage of my ability to descend. This section of the course, in my mind, was the ugliest of an ugly course. I decided to not do anything other than work on climbing, my mantra became, “Run where you can, but walk HARD where you can’t run.” I came passed Carrie & Cathy who looked awesome & were cheering like crazy as I passed them. In just a few more minutes I saw Leah, looking strong & very determined. This just helped me redouble my efforts & I closed in on the 4th place runner.
I caught the 4th place runner on a climb & ran a little further than I would have if he hadn’t been there. Quickly I realized I needed to walk & pushed the hardest I have ever pushed while walking. I was thankful for having been out to the Guadalupe Mountains in May & had the opportunity to be schooled by Kent Snead on ascending with a walk. He’d have been very proud of the distance I was able to put on the 5th place runner by the time I hit the 19.1 mile aid station.
Coming out of this aid station was another low point. We had to ascend another very steep pitch before we hit the single track that would wind around Ball Mountain on the return trip. I looked back & saw that the first female had caught the 6th place runner & was working toward the 5th place runner. I put my head back down & really worked the next mile. I knew that if I could get around the side of the mountain that they would no longer be able to see me & once a runner is out of sight, they are frequently out of mind. This section of trail was the only beautiful portion of the race course. It was a single track that winds around the mountain & avoids all the destitution & drudgery of the mining roads I’d already passed. This helped immensely to keep me in a positive frame of mind. I passed an open mine shaft that ate a portion of the trail up & dropped precipitously down. I found out later that this open shaft caused more serious problems for my friends behind me. I came quickly on the section of trail where I had gone off course. Yep, I was an idiot! It was well marked. I just missed it entirely.
As I slipped down the steep hill & tiptoed across the snow patch I snuck a loot back be hind me & was happy to see that there was no one behind me. There was an undulating stretch of jeep road that was in view of this point so I endeavored to get through it before the next runner behind me could see me around the final visible bend. I punched it & used up the last of my uphill reserves. Though I knew I had another 4+ miles to go I also was certain if I could make this little goal of being gone before they saw me, that I had secured 4th place & could relax on into the last aid station & the final 3.8 mile to the finish. I glanced back at the last turn & saw no one. I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d earned by my lost places.
There were another two steep climbs ahead but I just power walked those & into the aid station. I smiled & thanked the volunteers for their efforts. As a race director, I full appreciate the time & energy they give & the hardship they uncomplainingly suffer to help us have a great event. All the volunteers on the race course were awesome.
I dropped off the top of the hill & started the long 4 mile descent into the finish line. I tried to develop a rhythm & found that my legs were responding well & though my knees were tried of the pounding, they responded well & I was able to get into a decent clip. 2 miles from the finish I saw Dan on the course. He had decided to bag the race & had cut off the 3.3 mile Ball Mountain loop & just head back to the finish. I encouraged him as I passed & the said, “I still think you’re a wuss!” I smiled & waved back. Runners have such endearing ways of encouraging each other.
There was one more climb I knew because we had driven the course the day before. As I approached it I dropped back into the nice power walk that I’d developed & crested the last climb. I thought I saw some thing in front of me but just figured I was tired & my mind was playing tricks on me. I got back into my downhill rhythm & looked forward to the finish line.
Just as I crossed a side trail I realized there was a runner in front of me…it was the 3rd place runner who just appeared before me, almost 100 metes in front of me. I tried to push the pace to make up some more ground before he’d see me. Just then he turned around & obviously picked up the pace. The final stretch of the run, a long, long asphalt finish I tried to gain on him only to have him pull away. I was very frustrated for mot having pushed harder over the last 4 miles as I might have had a shot at getting 3rd place, but in sight of the finish line I was just happy to have finished & regained the places I had lost.
I crossed the finish line in 4:03:54, by my watch, in 4th place. 3rd place finished only 30 seconds in front of me.
The rest of the day was spent encouraging Fred, Abe, Marty, Carrie, Cathy & Leah into the finish. Some had good days, others not so good but we all appreciated a few beers & the awards ceremony. One of the coolest things I have ever witnessed at a race happened in the middle of the awards ceremony. The Leadville Marathon gives an award called “The Last Ass Over the Pass” & as the awards were going on the final runner approached the finish. Everyone came out to the finish line to encourage the final runner across the line. At that moment I realized again what a special community trail runners are. I was proud to be one of them.