The Climb

"I'm at mile 40, feeling great, and am just about to start the climb." This was the last contact I would have with my wife for the next 9 hours as I began the most difficult portion of the 2009 Leadville Trail 100-mile race course. Starting at mile 40, the course climbs from an elevation of 9,200-ft up to Hope Pass at 12,600-ft and then back down to 9,900-ft at mile 50. Since the course is out-and-back, each runner must then turn around and do it all again in reverse. This section got the best of me in 2008 and I was forced to drop from the race at mile 60. I had spent the previous 12-months training for what was now a second chance of getting over Hope Pass and eventually back to the town of Leadville to complete the full 100-mile trek. I was determined to make it this time.

I walked for a while after leaving the Twin Lakes Aid Station (mile 40) in order to eat a small lunch and make sure I was fully hydrated. I felt great as I started to climb, but then my stomach unexpectedly let loose as I tried to swallow an electrolyte tablet. Since I wasn't feeling particularly nauseous, I didn't think much of it and continued upward.

The air in the mountains is extremely dry (I checked the weather forecast the day of the race and took note that the relative humidity was lower than it was in Las Vegas). In addition, the thinning air at high elevation requires you to breathe deeper and more frequently just to get enough oxygen. I was loosing a huge amount of moisture from my lungs with each breath. I was also becoming nauseous as I continued up the mountain. This was not a good recipe for success.

It had taken me over 2 hours to go 5-miles as I crested Hope Pass. My nausea was getting worse and I was quickly using up all of the fluid I had in my water bottles. Knowing that getting to a lower altitude could only be helpful, I proceeded slowly down the mountain to the 50-mile aid station in the ghost town of Winfield. Hopefully I could recover enough in Winfield to continue on and get back over the mountain.

I knew I was seriously dehydrated as I entered Winfield, but I couldn't believe it when the weigh-in showed I had dropped 17-pounds. Since this was more than 9% of my body weight, I had no other option but to remain in Winfield until I could rehydrate to a safe level. This is not an easy thing to do when you are so nauseous. Those aid station workers were troopers as they helped me try to get fluids in even as I was filling up all of their empty bread bags. Yuck.

One of the keys of ultra-running is to just keep moving forward regardless of how slow it seems. Rather than waste too much time in Winfield, I decided to leave and start the reverse climb back up to Hope Pass. I took all kinds of fluid, broth, and fruit with me so that I could continue to rehydrate along the way.

Fortunately for me, the halfway point in Winfield is where you are allowed to have a "pacer" run with you for the remainder of the race. The pacer's main responsibility is for safety and companionship during the night. My pacer, Mark, was energetic and ready to go. Unfortunately for him, I felt like I look in the above photo.

The second climb up to Hope Pass was slow and arduous. It took me just less than 3-hours to go 5-miles, but I was somewhat encouraged that it seemed much "easier" than it was the year before. Mark was patient with me as I would stop to throw up. Even though I was still nauseous, I was able to take in more fluid than I was losing. This was critical if I was going to have a chance at finishing this race without kidney failure.

The sun was setting in the mountains as I reached the top of Hope Pass for the second time of the race. Even though I still had 45-miles to go, I was encouraged by the fact that I would never be this high again during the race. The fact that the sun was going down would also make it easier for me to continue rehydrating.

I arrived at the mile 60 aid station 45-minutes before the cutoff time. I briefly celebrated since I had just officially made it farther than I ever had. However, there was still 40-miles left to go and I was nauseous, dehydrated, and very tired. It was time to enter into the "just keep putting one foot in front of the other" mode, a.k.a., the ultra-runner death march.

Even though the worst part of the course was behind me, there were still several large climbs left. Sometimes it is easier to handle the large uphills in the dark since you can't see the top, but it also seems like they go on forever. At mile 82, I crested the last large pass of the course at 11,200-ft. I was very thankful to have Mark with me since I kept falling asleep and wandering off the trail. He told me later that he knew I was in trouble whenever he would see my headlamp drop and I would start walking sideways. I now truly recognize the importance of a pacer in an event like this.

I spent most of the night walking mixed with periods of jogging whenever my stomach could tolerate it. As a result, I barely made the cutoff times for each aid station. With only 20-minutes until the final cutoff time of 30-hours, I turned onto the road into Leadville. Only 1-mile to go. There is no way that I can possibly describe the feeling of seeing the finish line after nearly 30-hours out on that course.

It wasn't pretty, but I made it. My final finishing time was 29-hours, 48-minutes, and 59-seconds. Of the 568 people signed up for the race, only 274 actually finished. I was number 264. Since I was one of the people who did not finish in 2008, running across that red carpet in 2009 was an incredible feeling. However, I knew that there is no way I could have done it without the incredible encouragement of my wife Lais, my family, and especially the practical support provided by my pacer, Mark. This was as much their accomplishment as it was mine.

Ultra-running is a crazy endeavor and it's difficult to understand why anyone would want to do something like this. I titled this blog "The Climb" because of the obvious focus of getting up and over a specific mountain that had previously got the best of me (and also because it is the name of a surprisingly good song by Miley Cyrus). However, at the risk of getting overly cheesy here, that's pretty much the experience of everyday life. There will always be struggles, there will always be uphill battles, and there will always be more mountains. Sometimes the mountains will win, but those are the times when you've got to get back up and just keep going. The red carpet awaits.