. However, I should mention first and foremost that over the course of the run, I tried to come up with more excuses for quitting rather than focusing on finishing it. If it were not for my crew and pacers, in all likelihood, I would be sitting here writing otherwise, or perhaps not at all; being ultimately too let down with myself to want to put it in words. I owe them; Kelly Ping, Josh Herman, Kristy Milligan, Jacob Benzinger, and my father Norman Smith, a lot more than I feel like I can return for hauling me through this journey
.The journey began easy enough. During the week prior to the race, I spent a few days in the Buena Vista area with my wife, celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. This was wonderful, quiet, and relaxing time that both of us will look back upon with many fond memories. A lot of our evenings were spent down at the Lariat Bar on Main Street. One of the highlights of our trip was a visit to the museum, where we got a good education on all of the old railroad lines that were built to service the mining communities in the area. This gave me a good perspective on some of the geographical features that we were travelling through and that I would later run through upon my return to Leadville.
On Wednesday, I took my wife, Lisa, back to Colorado Springs, so she could fly back east to help with a surprise 70th birthday party for her father. I spent the day cleaning stuff up from the bike race and getting things re-rigged for the run. Thursday I picked my father, Norman Smith, up at the airport, and we headed back up to Leadville. That evening we ate dinner in a wonderful Italian restaurant on Harrison Ave. We probably spent an hour and a half or so lingering over dinner. Upon exiting the restaurant and looking to our west, our gaze fell upon a fresh blanket of snow that had fallen on Mt. Elbert and Mt. Massive; I mean white snow, not just hail or something like that. This was quite a shock, thinking of the possibilities of having been stuck in a storm like that. Fortunately the weather window for the weekend was supposed to be clear.
After checking my email in the motel room, I discovered that my crew chief, Kelly Ping was trying to get a ride up to Leadville the next morning. I sent her a couple of email addresses for some folks that I thought might be coming up Friday morning on the outside chance that maybe something would work out. Really, I thought it was too late for anything to be put together.
Friday morning, my father and I caught a quick breakfast over at the Trout Creek Pass Café and did some shopping on Harrison Ave before heading over to the 6th Street gym for the pre-race meeting. Kelly called me on my cell phone to let me know she was in town, having caught a ride up that morning with Mike Shafai’s wife; which was a very pleasant surprise because I didn’t think anything would get put together from the previous evening’s email, everything being on such short notice. All of us managed to find seats together in the gym; Kelly, my father, Mike and his family, as well as John Gardner, the president of our local running club, the Pikes Peak Road Runners. John was going to help pace Mike.
I had been looking forward to the pre-race meeting, having developed some expectations from the pre-race meeting to the bike race from the week before. Ken and Marilee seemed a little subdued though, maybe even a little worn out. Maybe it was due to what was probably a very long week for them. I was hoping for Kelly to see something a little more charged-up, as there was so much history and such a storied atmosphere surrounding the race.
After the meeting and a quick bite of lunch, Kelly, my father, and I piled into the car to go take a look at the crew spots. May Queen was pretty straight forward. When we got to the Fish Hatchery, my father was quite excited to go and take a look at the operations. He is an avid trout fisherman, and I am sure was quite a bit more interested in the hatchery than the race. After touring the hatchery, there was just enough time left for us to get down to Twin Lakes, and then head back up to Leadville. My sister Alexa was also showing up in town with her daughter, my 8 month old niece, which I had yet to meet.
Kelly took off to go and scout some camping spots for her and Jacob, who was due to show up later that evening. My father and I went to meet my sister, her partner, and their daughter at a local Mexican restaurant. I had been carbo-loading all day, and was so stuffed, but managed to find a little more room for some dinner. Back at the motel room, I put the finishing touches on my gear and tried to settle in for some rest at about 8:30 PM. I had my alarm set to go off at 1:30 AM so I could begin eating. Kelly has always told me to begin eating before a race at least 2 hours ahead of the start to have enough time to get the fuel into my system. She is always full of such great advice.
Did I actually get any sleep before the alarm went off? I’m not sure. It felt like most of the evening was spent in a restless state of anticipation. Breakfast was 2 packs of instant oatmeal and a bagel spread with some almond butter. By 2:00 AM I was back in bead for another hour of rest before getting up for good at 3:00 AM. By 3:30 AM I was out the door of the motel room, with my father in tow, as we walked the 2 blocks over to the starting line. It’s amazing just how much energy a crowd can generate at that time of the morning. I wasn’t nervous and let the surge of energy from the crowd flow through me. I was really looking forward to what was ahead. My father and I took a few pictures before the inevitable shotgun blast filled the air and for the last time during this saga, I was off running once again.
Down the boulevard we ran, I even ran up the first teeny hill, though my race strategy guideline recommended against this. At the bottom of the boulevard we ran across the Arkansas River, and headed up a couple of short, steep inclines to reach Turquoise Lake. Running around the lake was surreal, as all of the runners were spread out around the lake, where you could see the lights from their headlamps bobbing along the shore. I was in a good rhythm, and soon the group I was with reached May Queen; 2 hours and 5 minutes; a little ahead of schedule.
After a quick stop at May Queen to exchange water bottles with my father and grab some food from the aid station, I was walking up the trail towards Sugarloaf with my hands full of food. Back in the trees, I also stopped for the only time that day that I would go poop. This was something that I was really anxious about, as I have suffered greatly in the past from GI distress, looking to find the exact balance between sugar and carbohydrates that would not send my intestines into a death spiral. Anecdotally, I would say that as a race progresses and I get wrung out, I get better, so it seems to be the first 30 miles or so that is my nemesis. Today was not going to be a problem for GI distress though; problems were going to show up in other forms.
Up and up we climbed as an ever increasingly strung out group of runners over the top of Sugarloaf. I could see runners far ahead of me as well as behind. At the top of Sugarloaf, where the jeep road passes beneath the Power Lines, the descent begins in earnest down towards the Fish Hatchery. This is where the realization of just how hard the day ahead of me was going to be; my right knee was in significant pain when I ran downhill too hard. I guess it was some pain left over from the long day on the bike the week before. Whatever the case, I was a little concerned thinking of all the downhill miles that lay ahead of me. Well, they were out of my next 100 yards or so, except for the Power Lines in front of me, so I stopped worrying and limped down, with many runners passing me. Still, by the time I made it to Fish Hatchery, I was on schedule, maybe even a few minutes ahead.
I caught up with my father at the entrance to the Fish Hatchery, exchanging bottles again, and made my way into the aid station for some more food. Coming back out to the pavement I saw him again. I made of point of giving him a hug each time I saw him to let him know how much I appreciated what he was doing.
The next section of the race was one that I was really not looking forward to; from Fish Hatchery over to the Pipe Line. This part of the race is on pavement and dirt roads, and is flat and boring. One of the only highlights was when my sister passed me in her car and took a quick picture
. I guess it is about 4 miles over to the Pipe Line crew area. At least we got to turn off the Pipe Line and head up the Half Moon road afterwards.At Half Moon, I ducked quickly into the aid station for some more food and was back on the trail in very quick order. From here to Twin Lakes is one of the prettiest sections of the race, especially after joining the Colorado trail. Here I found myself running with a couple of ladies; one of them was a grizzled veteran of many 100 mile runs, Liz Bauer, and the other was named Shelia, a lady from Palmer Lake who was on her 3rd try at completing the LT100. So, it was very inspiring just to lay back and eavesdrops on the conversation as we climbed up to the high point of this section of trail. What goes up must also go down, and I was soon dropped by everyone as we started the descent towards Twin Lakes. I was really starting to slow on the downhill s by now. However, upon reaching Twin Lakes, I was surprised to find that I was still on schedule.
Twin Lakes is the first of the really busy aid stations, where large crowds accumulate, exactly like it was on the bike ride, with hoards of folks cheering runners on. After leaving the crowds, the trail heads through some marshy sections with many water crossings before finally reaching the river, which has a rope strung across it. I found it quicker to bypass hanging onto the rope, just slogging across, since it was barely knee deep. The water was cold and actually felt pretty good. It wasn’t long after this river crossing that the trail began to climb up Hope Pass.
On the north side of the pass, the trail climbs for maybe 4 or 5 miles to get to the top of the pass. The trail seems steep, and I was using just a slow and steady pace to make upward progress. I passed a lot of people, including Liz Bauer, which surprised me because I thought she would be so far ahead of my by this point. I said hello, and she merely pointed out which side she wanted me to pass. I couldn’t tell if that was from her focus or exhaustion level, but probably a little of both. There were even some folks I passed who were in various states of collapse, lying on the side of the trail, barely able to mumble a reply as I asked them how they were doing. This just reinforced to me how lucky I am to be able to live in Colorado and be somewhat used to higher elevations.
Somewhere along the way up to Hope Pass, I encountered the first runner who was heading back to Leadville; inbound at 1:06 PM. I recognized the runner, though I don’t know his name; we nick-named him Running Jesus (because of his long and shaggy hair). I glanced at my watch and started to time just how far he was ahead of the next runner; 40 minutes. I was amazed, but even more so later at the finish line to find out he had dropped out of the race. I guess 100 miles gets to all of us, and you never can take anything for granted over that kind of distance.
At a high meadow, I broke out of the trees, and saw a heard of Llamas calming chewing grass in the fields surrounding the Hopeless aid station. Looming above us was the pass itself. It was only 600 feet higher, but it still looked a long ways off. Eventually I got to the top, and the view was spectacular, being able to see all the way back to Leadville as well as down into the valley below, where Winfield and the turnaround were waiting.
This time as I began my descent, I could only manage a slow walk. I felt terrible as so many people were flying past me. Of course, since I was going so slowly, I stopped many times in order to make it easier for folks to get around me. Liz Bauer flew past me, shooting downhill like a streak. With each step I grew more and more miserable. I let doubt start to creep into my head for the first time, wanting to call it quits at Winfield, wondering how I was ever going to finish. It seemed to take forever, and the trail was unbelievably steep on the Winfield side, but I finally reached the road. It was only 2 ½ miles of a slight uphill to get to the turn-around. I even managed to run a bit of it. By the time I got there my spirits started to lift a little bit.
Quite a crowd had gathered there, and I met my father just on the outskirts of town. We walked together down into the aid station where I met the rest of my crew and pacers for the first time that day; Josh, Kelly, and Jacob. Their enthusiasm and concern for me were contagious and instantly my spirits were lifted even more. They took such good care of me. Kelly in particular was interested in how I felt. I told her that my stomach was cramping. Also I got weighed for the 1st time, and found out I had lost about 5 pounds. Kelly told me I had not been drinking enough, and made me promise to work on that as we headed back over the pass. They could tell I was really tired, and immediately Josh offered to mule for me as we loaded up to begin our inbound journey together.
Heading back down the road, I managed to run a little and walk a little; my knee was hanging in there where the angle wasn’t so steep. I also managed to eat a sandwich and drink 20 ounces of Power Aid before we got back down to the trailhead. Soon we were power hiking our way back up Hope Pass, passing many other parties along the way. I drank another 20 ounces of Gatorade and water that Josh mixed up for me before we got to the top. At the top, Josh ran ahead to the aid station, while I started my downhill crawl.
Here is where I should insert something that I find fascinating about how the day went. All day my knee had been sore and getting worse with each downhill section. All day I had been praying to God to help me with my knee, asking for some relief from the pain so I could continue onward with some sort of speed beyond the ever slow pace I was able to manage. When I got down to the aid station, Josh had a medic ready to tape my knee. It was simple enough, a few wraps of athletic tape above and below the knee, but it was a world of difference, and I could even manage a slow shuffling run as we headed down off Hope Pass and back towards Twin Lakes. I couldn’t get the Skillet song out of my head; Looking for Angels. God lets us find Angels in the strangest of places sometimes.
I drank another 30 ounces of fluids on my way back down the pass. All of my stomach cramps were now gone. Down by the river once again, we got through all of the water crossings in the fading light. This time the water was a little too cold, making all of my tendons and muscles in my feet a cool off; running became a chore. Twin Lakes drew nearer, and I did manage a run into the parking lot and across the road, then up the street into the aid station itself. Once again my crew lavished an embarrassing amount of attention upon me, even helping me change my shoes and socks, which were really nasty from all the mud and totally soaked. The skin on my feet was shriveled like I had been in the pool for too long, and I put some silicone spray on my feet before putting the new socks on. It was also time to change pacers, as Kelly was due to take the next leg from Twin Lakes over to Fish Hatchery.
Fortunately the world is all uphill from Twin Lakes. It lasts for a good while too, and Kelly and I made descent time. I was sorry she wasn’t able to see how beautiful this section of trail was as it was totally dark by this time. It took a while, but eventually we got to Half Moon. From Half Moon down to Pipe Line, I even managed a little more running and a little less walking. My strategy in a very long event after I am getting too tired to keep running all the time is to run 100 meters, maybe a little further, and then walk 100 meters, maybe a little less.
After Pipe Line, the wheels really started to come off of my little wagon. Once again I really wanted to quit. Given the opportunity, I would have lavished in the prospect of quitting. I was really getting tired at this point. Not physically exhausted, which had set in long ago, but tired like yawning, like I wanted to go to sleep. I also started to get quite cold, and soon had all my clothes on, which didn’t seem like enough because I was shivering uncontrollably. It seemed to take forever to get to Fish Hatchery, and I was night of the walking dead by the time we got there.
Once again my crew came to the rescue, sitting me down with the medic to re-tape my right knee and adding some tape to my left knee too, while wrapping me in a sleeping bag, and stuffing me with some hot food; a wonderful potato soup. Kristy took over the pacing, and as we headed out of Fish Hatchery, I wasn’t feeling too bad. It’s amazing how a little support can help put things back together even when you think you are all in.
Kristy was going to pace me from here until the finish. I apologized in advanced to her for what was coming next; a climb back up the Power Lines. The Power Lines was where I had come a little undone during the bike race the week before. Who wouldn’t come undone; they go on forever, like 5 miles or so. Every time you think you’re getting close to being done with the climb, it’s just another false summit, teasing you with yet another glimpse of what could be the real top off in the distance. I bet it took 2 hours for us to get to the top of the Power Lines from Fish Hatchery.
Heading back down the other side, I was able to make some OK progress as long as we were on the roads, but eventually we had to turn back onto the Colorado Trail in order to get back down to May Queen and the back of the lake. The reality of what time it was getting to be, closer and closer to 6:00 AM, and how slow I was moving was starting to sink in. I didn’t think I was going to have enough time to finish in less than 30 hours.
We were met at the where the trail joins the pavement by a gentlemen telling us we needed to get our butts in gear. He told us that the finish line was exactly 4 hours from our present location, and it was exactly 6:00 AM. I limped my way down into May Queen already accepting defeat and wanting so badly to just call it a day. I had given it the college try, and my knee just wasn’t cooperating. At the aid station, Kelly wasn’t having any of that though. I owe a lot of my finish to Kelly and her persistence and belief in me even where I had none left. At the time I was a little mad, thinking of how much more wear and tear I was putting on myself for something that I wasn’t going to be able to finish in time. I asked her to please come and look for us on the boulevard if 10:00 AM came and went without us making it to the finish line.
Dejectedly I began my journey around the lake, heading back towards Leadville. At least I had some great company, as Kristy is a wonderful friend, and there wasn’t anyone else I would have rather shared the moment with. What happened next though is where the deep digging began. You are better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.
I can’t remember the exact sequence of events that took place next. I think we got passed by a young lady. Kristy had to go to the bathroom. She told me she would catch up with me. For some reason I decided I would latch onto the lady in front of me and run when she did and then walk if she wasn’t running. Our pace started to pick up. She asked if we wanted to pass, and Kristy told her. “No, we’re feeding off your energy.” Soon enough, the lady informed us that if we were going to keep up that kind of a pace, she was going to stop for an energy gel. So, I took over the lead and tried to plow ahead, using the same tactic as the night before; run 100 meters or a little more, walk a little less. We melded into and out of some other groups of runners, each fighting their own battle around the lake, each trying to get back to Leadville in time. Slowly but surely I gained some time against the clock and banked some minutes for future use.
Eventually we made it to the end of the lake, and I had to slowly walk down the 2 steep hills I had come up over 24 hours ago. However, the finish was now within striking distance, and I knew it. I knew we had enough time left too because this was familiar ground. Kristy’s GPS thought we had a mile further than what I knew the actual distance was. As we rounded the corner of the trail that ran along the river and began to head up the boulevard, I told Kristy about how this was the turnaround point for the 10K we had run the previous Sunday.
Sitting here now, I can’t remember exactly how much time we had left, but I knew it was enough. It was enough that we could walk the whole way. The first set of railroad tracks passed and then the second. Soon, I could see the light poles above the high school’s football field, and I knew the turn off the dirt road and back onto the pavement was close. I was relishing the moment, as this was the 3rd time I had climbed the boulevard in the past week.
With pavement once again beneath our feet, I could begin to hear the crowds at the finish line. We crested the hill at the bottom of 6th Ave, and then the finish line was in sight. Kelly, Jacob, and Josh, joined me and Kristy for the last few hundred yards to the finish line area. Of course I was able to muster a slow run to the tape draped across the finish line. I crossed in 29 hours and 44 minutes, cutting it close to be sure, but I was done. And I was a Leadman too! Meeting me at the finish was my father and my good friend Doug Sleeger, who had come up from Colorado Springs for the day. Wow, it was great to be done. Slowly I staggered over to the grass at the side of the courthouse and was shepherded over to get weighed. Over the course of the entire race I only lost 1 pound! Kelly did a great job of staying on me to make sure I ate and drank enough. I am sure the medic was a little concerned because I probably wasn’t focusing my eyes totally on him. However I was in a lot better shape than some of the other folks who were just lying on the ground in the medical tent.
Not rally wanting to hang out in the tent for too long, I headed outside to lay in the shade and the grass and rejoin all of my friends. We took a few pictures and just as quickly started to wrap things up. All of my pacers had done such an awesome job, and now they had their lives and what little was left of the weekend to get back to. Kelly and Jacob would stay for the awards ceremony that was due to start at 12:00 PM.
I was really starting to seize up after a few minutes of non-movement, and had to be helped up off the ground by my friend Doug. My father gave me a ride back to the motel room, where I tried to take a nap, but it wouldn’t work, so I took a shower instead while Doug stayed to help me move around the motel room. Kelly and Jacob came by and we looked at my feet; swollen and a little purple around the arches along with a big blister on the ball of my right foot.
When it was time to go to the gym for the awards ceremony, Jacob gave me a ride. I limped into the gym hoping they would bring the buckle to me, but that was not to be. I caught up with Mike Shafai and we exchanged a fist bump; we were Leadmen! Ken and Marilee did an awesome job, and they called all of the Leadman participants up front first, which was an awesome recognition. Afterwards, they started to hand out the buckles and other awards based upon the finishing times, so I had a while to wait, having just snuck in beneath the cut-off time. Kelly and Jacob took off to have some time for themselves. After receiving my buckle, my father, Doug, and I slowly made our way back to the motel room, packed everything up, and headed out of town, putting Leadville in the rear view mirror. Hopefully not for the last time though; as even while sitting in the car, I knew I wanted to come back for more.
So, concludes the journey I went on this summer; my Leadman journey. I know now that it is so much bigger than just an individual achievement, as there were so many others who contributed to making this happen. Indeed, it would not have been possible were it not for all of the others who were a part of it; my wife Lisa, my son Jubal, my father, and all my awesome friends who crewed and paced. I feel like the trophy and the buckle belong to each of us as a group.
Most of all I would like to thank God for seeing me through it all, keeping me safe from all harm and danger along the way. I was not fearful because God was with me. I was not dismayed for He is my God. He strengthened me and helped me. He upheld me with his righteous right hand. Amen.
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