Going into the race, I wasn’t sure how it would turn out but hoped to break 4:30. So I figured I’d just go out, push hard, and see what happens.

From the start, Shannon took the lead and a chase pack of about half a dozen other guys fell in behind at a brisk pace. After a few miles, the pack thinned out and other than a couple words exchanged with Karl around mile 2, I pretty much ran the entire race solo. I was a little disappointed that Slush couldn’t make it out for the race this year – it’s always so much more fun to run these events with good friends to pace with.

Moab Red Hot 55k Start (Photo by Chris Hinds)

From the start my legs felt pretty weak on the climbs and my quads didn’t feel up to really hammering the downhills very hard. But I managed to catch up with Shannon on the ridge at the top of Metal Masher and pulled ahead on the next downhill into the second aid station. And none of the other guys from our starting pack looked like they were catching up.

The jeep road going back down on the back stretch of the first loop was much, much easier without the nasty headwinds that hit us last year so I made good time back to the base of Gold Bar. I figured Shannon or some of the other fast guys would catch back up but by the time I started the climb up onto the second section of slickrock, there wasn’t anyone in sight behind me.

I kept my momentum all the way up to the aid station at the top of Gold Bar. I caught up with Stephen on the way up the climb. He was having some bad muscle cramps and I gave him a spare S-cap and continued up the hill.

After the Gold Bar aid station, I started to fall apart. Last year I remember running this section of slickrock from mile 21 to 28 much better. I think the flagging may have been a bit more noticeable and last year I remember seeing more 33k runners spread out at convenient intervals to help spot the route. This year I ended up out on my own through most of this section and I kept losing sight of the flagging and had to come to a complete stop to look around about half a dozen times. My quads were already fried so it was really hard to keep stopping and starting and changing direction. I was pretty sure that someone would easily catch up with me before I made it back out of the slickrock. Looking back at my 2011 splits, I only ran this section 27 seconds slower so I guess I didn’t do quite as poorly as it felt.

Running across this slickrock is brutal but the scenery is incredible. (Photo by Laura Backus)

33k runners on the slick rock "trail" (Photo by Kristen Alvarez)

After I made it past the last aid station and out of the worst of the slickrock, my legs were completely trashed. For the last 5 miles, I just kept my focus cranking my legs over. I didn’t have any final finish kick left in me but I managed to hold on and grind out the last few miles to finish in 4:35. Good enough for 5th place and a new PR by 9 minutes and 13 seconds.

The final push to the finish line. (Photo by Chris Hinds)

While the end result turned out extremely well, I can’t say that this was my best run. Running fast and running well aren’t always the same. I managed to finish well and did the best I could with the training and preparation I had going into the race. So I don’t have any complaints or regrets. My speed on the flats was better than it’s ever been. And this was the first race I’ve run where I’ve been able to consistently get down a high volume of calories – 800 calories from start to finish. My friends over at Vi Endurance have developed a pretty good formula and I’m really happy to finally have something that I can run with that doesn’t make me want to vomit. I’m just a bit disappointed in my hill climbing and technical downhill running – it just wasn’t up to the level that I’m used to running. But it’s February and I have the next 3 months to get back in top shape for the Bighorn 100. So after this weekend, the rest of 2012 looks very promising.

It's always a good sign that you ran a hard race when gravel feels comfortable. (Photo by Stephanie Lynn)

The best part of the event - just a few of the FCTR's at the race. (Photo by Jennifer Swanson)

I originally signed up for the Antelope Island 100k on a whim. I’d never raced a 100k and after recovering from Hardrock, I felt like I needed one more good race event before the end of the year. I really hadn’t started training seriously again until October so I wasn’t sure how it would go. But I figured that regardless of how well I ran, it would be a good training experience to test out my legs and get an idea of how well I might be able to prepare for HURT.

A few other FCTR’s decided to make the trip out together so we had a pretty good group with Shannon, Kristel, Cat, and I running the 100k and Justin, Slush, Celeste, Mary, and Robert running the 50k. The weather forecast for the week was perfect with highs in the 40′s and 50′s every day ….every day except for race day. On race day it would be in the 30′s with snow and possible rain and freezing rain. I started to wonder why I decided to sign up for a November race in Utah but I convinced myself that my chances of placing well would be better in bad weather. The course is fairly easy and runnable and I tend to do better on the rough, technical stuff.

Kristel, me, Cat, and Shannon ready to start the 100k. (Photo by Megan Price)

The race started in the dark at 6am and fortunately it wasn’t too cold out and once we got moving, it was actually fairly nice. Most of the trail was clear dirt with a dusting of snow on the middle sections of the hills and some ankle deep snow on a couple of the higher sections. From the start of the race, Shannon, Scott Dickey (the 2010 winner), and I ran out in the lead together. The first half of the 50k loop was fairly hilly with a couple short climbs and some rolling hills. I chatted with Scott for a while and it seemed like his strength was really on the fast and flat sections. I expected that he would easily out run me on the flat back half of the loop so at the first decent downhill, I decided to run at my own pace and pulled away into the lead.

A view of the hills along the southwest corner of the Antelope Island 50k loop. (Photo by Mary Boyts)

View of the last climb up into the snow on the south end of the Antelope Island 50k loop. This side of the island had some incredible views. (Photo by Celeste O'Conner)

It was a bit tricky running out in the lead since I wasn’t familiar with the route. The race director had explained that course markings would be sparse and only the major turns would be marked with small signs and flour. I stopped a few times along the way to wait to make sure Scott and Shannon were still following me and at a couple intersections, I had to stop and try to find where the arrow signs were buried in the snow. I probably could have run this first loop a bit faster if I knew where I was going and didn’t keep second guessing myself. But since this was a 100k race, I figured I was better off taking it easy and pacing myself to save my energy for the second loop.

On the east side of the island, the last 10 miles of the trail were pretty flat. As I expected, Scott caught back up with me here. The first couple miles before the 9 mile gate aid station were absolutely miserable. The trail was muddy and the tall grass was coated with ice and bent over and thatched together across the trail. The only way to get through this section was to just keep plowing through shin first. I spent a good amount of time cussing  and stumbling through this section.

On the first loop in the morning, this grassy section was completely thatched together with ice coated grass. On the second loop, it was just soupy mud. (Photo by Celeste O'Conner)

On this same section, I ran into 2 buffalo delays. Buffalo roam around the island and we got right up close and personal with them several times. Scott told me we’d be OK just as long as we didn’t look them directly in the eye and piss them off. I was still skeptical and was more than happy to wait until they moved a little further away from the trail.

One of the many buffalo on the course. I really didn't like getting this close. (Photo by Megan Price)

Shortly after the 9 mile gate aid station and last buffalo delay, Scott pulled a head of me. My legs weren’t feeling great at the time so I was content to let him go. I figured it would be best to just take care of myself at my own pace than try to race him through the full flat section where he would probably be stronger. We still had another loop ahead of us and I would have plenty of opportunity to catch up on the next round of hills. But after a few miles I realized that Scott wasn’t pulling away from me and that I was actually catching back up. A few miles before the end of the first loop, I caught up with Scott and he let me take the lead again. I figured he would be right behind me and I just kept in my zone working away through the last few miles. At the final turn at the fence line that leads to the finish, I looked back and Scott was no where to be seen. I really didn’t think I had been running that fast but my last couple miles were around 7:40 pace. Based on what I knew of Scott’s running ability, I figured this would have been easy for him. So I started second guessing myself. Scott ran and won the race in 2010 so maybe he knew how to pace himself to run the second loop better? Maybe I was going out too fast and was just going to crash and burn on the second loop? But I was in the lead at the end of the first loop and really didn’t feel that bad.

Finishing the first loop. (Photo by Megan Price)

I finished the first loop in 4:15 and quickly head out for loop two after grabbing another handful of shot blocks and a water refill. I was determined to keep my lead so I pushed as hard and steady as I could up the first gradual climbs. I couldn’t see anyone behind me at this point but my eyes were getting a bit blurry and I couldn’t really be sure whether or not Scott was right behind me. He was wearing black and could easily have blended in with the landscape between the rocks and buffalo. So I set off assuming that he was only minutes behind me and tried to keep my focus on a hard steady effort up and over the first set of hills.

At the first big downhill where I had cruised along and lost Scott and Shannon on the first loop, my hamstrings were getting really stiff and sore so the second trip down the hill wasn’t much better than an easy jog. By the time I hit the shoreline before the last big climb, I was hurting pretty bad and took a couple walking breaks to eat some more shot blocks and drink my water and try to pull myself back together. And even though the grade was fairly easy, I walked almost every step of the last climb on the south end of the loop. It even took me about half a mile from the top to get my legs moving downhill.

Scott was still nowhere in sight behind me and I still had 10 flat miles to cover to hold my lead. Crap, this sucked. I was hurting and struggling to keep up a 10 minute mile pace. I knew Scott could easily run faster so I started doing the math in my head …if I had a 10 minute lead, I just had to run this last 10 miles 1 minute slower than Scott could. But what if I didn’t have a 10 minute lead? Damn it, I could completely blow it. Now wouldn’t that suck to lead most of the race and get passed right before the finish. I decided that I didn’t want to be that guy and doubled my efforts and pressed on. At the start of the flat section by the ranch, I caught up with the last 50k runner who was busy taking photos of a buffalo standing right in the middle of the road between us and the next section of trail. Unlike the other buffalo on the course who mostly just got in the way and minded their own business, this guy was squared off and staring straight at us and didn’t look like he was going to get out of the way any time soon. So I decided to take a short detour down through the ranch parking area and back up around to the other side of the blocked road. The 50k runner was kind enough to stay there and continue taking photos to divert his attention away from me.

Grinding my way along the last flat miles at the end of the second loop. (Photo by Megan Price)

From this point on to the finish I kept catching up with 50k runners who were very encouraging. Every time I really wanted to slow down or walk, I’d run into another group of 50k runners and thought, damn it, I can’t just walk now after they were all so nice to cheer me on. After the 9 mile gate aid station where the trail turned into clear dry dirt single track, I managed to get moving at roughly a 9min pace. I did some more math to figure out what lead I’d need to have to hold off Scott if he could cover this same section at an 8min pace. About 6 miles out from the finish, the cows started to smell the barn and stepped up the pace again. My hamstrings were in serious pain and running along this flat section just wasn’t any fun any more. I wanted to be done with this race and off this stinking island. I was pissed that I had to be in the lead and couldn’t just run my own race and finish comfortably in a respectable and solid 2nd or 3rd place. It was stressing me out not knowing where Scott might be behind me and I didn’t like the idea of getting this far in the lead and completely blow it at the end. I managed to run 3 more miles up to the last little climb before the finish at about 8:30 pace. At the top of the fence line, I looked back one more time and couldn’t see Scott. But both eyes were completely blurry by this point and I couldn’t see the fence 10 feet in front of me so I still couldn’t be sure if I was in the clear. Any one of the blurry dots behind me could just be 50k runners that I had just passed or one could be Scott gaining on me. So I pushed as hard as I could for the last little stretch of road downhill to the finish.

I made it in 9 hours and 13 seconds. This beat Scott’s 2010 course record by about 29 minutes but this year’s course was re-routed and may have been 1.5 to 2 miles short. I’m really not sure exactly how the courses compare. The re-route cut out some flat running along the shoreline and added some extra hill climbs on the first half of the loop so it may have been comparable. But I figure I could have still at least walked another 2 miles in 29 minutes so I think it’s fair to take credit for the record.

Shannon ended up finishing second about 54 minutes behind me. Evidently Scott decided to drop out after the first loop. So I really didn’t need to push as hard as I did through the second lap but in hindsight I was glad that I didn’t find out that Scott had dropped. I probably would have gotten a bit lazy to just cruise through the second lap and I’m happy that I was able to maintain my focus racing from start to finish.

Shannon and I happy to be finished ...and completely unable to get up out of those chairs. (Photo by Megan Price)

Overall I was pretty pleased with my run and it was nice to finally win something. But I think all of my friends were more excited about the win than I was. Pushing the pace and trying to hold the lead was just painful and stressful so I’m not sure how much I really liked it. And for my own personal standards, I don’t think I ran as well as I could have. For this race day, I did the best that I could but I felt sluggish on the uphills and was pretty weak up and down the hills on the second lap. I definitely didn’t feel like I was racing in my peak condition. But it was a good confidence boost to get ready for full HURT training. I have some more work to do but feel like I’m starting with a good base and have the time to really sharpen up to be able to race in peak condition this January.

The rest of our FCTR crew all did extremely well. Kristel and Cat ran together and tied for 2nd place in the 100k for the women. In the 50k, Kristel’s husband Justin finished his first 50k. Scott ran with Celeste who had an awesome run as well. And Mary and her brother Robert seemed like they just had a great time enjoying the trail.

Kristel, me, and Cat at the finish. I'm not sure if I'm holding them up or they are keeping me from tipping over ...maybe a little of both. (Photo by Mary Boyts)

My race didn’t quite go as well as I had planned. I got sick early in the race and threw up regularly from Ouray to Oscar’s pass. I spent hours in aid stations trying to recover and pull myself together to be able to make it to the next aid station. For many miles, my pace could barely be considered walking. From my own perspective, this was the worst performance of my life. At times, it was downright pathetic. But at the end of the day, I was the 15th finisher to kiss the rock in Silverton. By Hardrock standards, my worst day was actually a pretty good run. Hardrock is a different kind of race.

The day started out extremely well. The first climb up over Little Giant seemed easy and the views from the top were exhilarating. I came into Cunningham well ahead of my planned pace so I took it easy and just tried to cruise through the next few sections. I ran with Duncan most of the way to Pole Creek and after that we played leap frog all the way to Governor’s Basin. On the downhill into Sherman, I ran a much faster pace than I thought I would but my legs still felt fresh, light, and quick on the switchbacks and I was really having fun.

Trouble started shortly after leaving Sherman. I had planned on taking it easy on the climb over Handies and thought that I had plenty of water and time to get over to Grouse. On the way out of Sherman, a volunteer on the road mentioned that storms might be blowing in. There were a few dark clouds forming so I mentally prepared myself for whatever rain, hail, sleet, and lightning the mountain could throw at me and headed up. Since I fully expected to freeze my ass off, I passed right by the last water drop at the trailhead and charged up the trail. I still had most of my hydration pack full from the Sherman station and it was only a 3 mile grunt to the top and all downhill from there to Grouse. Wrong. It was a 4 mile slog to the top and the descent had another 700ft bonus climb up out of the American Basin. Shortly after passing the last water drop, the sky cleared and the sun came out in full force. It never rained one drop and even at the very top at 14,000ft, I was roasting. And just as I made it to the summit, my water ran out. Oh crap! Fortunately there was plenty of snow and fresh run off on the trail near the top. I stopped and stuffed snow in my pack fully expecting that enough would melt on the way down to get me to Grouse in one piece. Not one drop melted. I stopped several times to slurp some water from streams and grabbed handfuls of snow to suck on but never managed to get more than a few sips. It would have been easier if I had a bottle to dip and fill and in hind sight, I should have dragged my hydration bladder out and scraped it through whatever run off I could get in it. Eventually the snow fields ended and I still had a few miles of dry, hot trail to cover to get to Grouse.

At Grouse, I took some extra time to sit and try to recover. Or at least I thought I took an extra long time at the aid station to pull myself together. But I was still caught up in the excitement of the race. Volunteers and crew were buzzing and Maria was geared up and ready to start pacing me through to Telluride. I left the aid station in less than 15 minutes planning to just walk most of Engineer pass while continuing to catch up on hydration and calories. Well, everyone in the best condition just walks up Engineer pass – seriously, what the hell was I thinking?!? And I quickly found that just walking up to 13,000ft isn’t the best environment to catch up on hydration. It was still roasting hot out and I stopped once to stick my head in a snowbank and then filled my shorts and arm sleeves with snow. Looking back now, I realize that I was already severely dehydrated and overheating and should have been more diligent in icing down to control my body temperature.

At the Engineer aid station, I started to feel better and managed to get a few orange slices down. I loaded up with a fistful of saltines to tide me over until I could get to the low point on the course in Ouray way down below at a reasonable elevation around 7700ft. As we dropped in elevation, I felt better and better and my legs were moving well on the nice gradual descent down the canyon. This is one of the sections of the course that most people are terrified of with a narrow trail winding along the side of a cliff and a sheer drop off just inches away with a raging river below. But the trail was really one of the smoothest and most runnable sections of the course. For a few miles, I forgot about how tired and sick I was and just had fun cruising down the trail. Towards the bottom, I met up with Matt Hart, on a section of loose shale. He warned me to save my quads and I joked that I lost my quads long ago. But honestly I felt pretty good. I’d spent months training my quads for this abuse and they were holding up better than I ever imagined. The shale snapped under our feet like dinner plates and I got a childlike satisfaction imagining that we were crashing our way through fine china so I kept stomping away down the hill.

By Ouray, I was feeling pretty good. I was tired and my stomach was still queasy but all things considered, I felt better than I thought I would 56 miles into this ordeal. I took another extended break at the aid station to re-hydrate, re-fuel, and re-charge for the big push up over Virginius to Telluride. Or at least I thought it was an extended break – I was out of the aid station in 12 minutes. And as soon as I checked out and turned the first corner out of sight, I threw up everything. This really wasn’t the condition I planned to start the 7.9 mile grind up Camp Bird road to the Governor Basin aid station.

The road to Governor Basin was a long, tedious climb. The only upside to being stuck on this road was that we could continue hiking into the dark without using our head lamps. Eventually Maria switched on her head lamp and I stayed a few yards behind in the shadows which helped to save my eyes and eliminate some of the dizzying effect of staring through a tunnel of artificial light. I threw up again along the way and finally realized just how bad my condition was. I was burning hot – even as the sun went down and the temperature started dropping. My forehead was dry and burning and I was dying of thirst. All I wanted to do was guzzle cold water. But I was so nauseous that my stomach protested at even the smallest sip. We still had several miles to cover to get to the aid station and I was seriously worried. I finally ditched the pacing goals and told Maria that we had to stop at the next available rock to sit. I needed to get water down and get myself to Governor Basin in a condition I could recover from. Pushing any harder could put me over the edge and end my race and probably put me in the hospital. It took over half a mile to find a rock to sit on. Seriously?!?! I planned to sit for as long as it took to get 10 sips of water down. I threw up once but bit by bit, slowly counted out the sips and let each settle.

We made it to Governor Basin and I told Maria I would stay there as long as it took to make sure I could recover enough to get up and over Virginius. Getting sick and crashing on Camp Bird road may have meant dropping out of the race to get a ride to the hospital. Getting stuck in this condition on the snow fields on Virginius at 13,000ft at night would be a search and rescue nightmare. Whatever finish goals I had set my sights on at the beginning of the race just weren’t worth the risk. And to confirm just how bad things could get, Hardrock veteran and 2010 champion, Jared Campbell, had been wrapped up in a sleeping bag for an hour when I got there. The volunteers where whispering to Jared’s pacer about dropping. He had an easy way out to just take a ride back down the hill to Ouray. But Jared surprised them and came back from the dead, geared up, let out a huge shout, and stormed out of the aid station up Virginius. Unfortunately Jared couldn’t pull off the same recovery again and eventually dropped in Telluride. I stayed at Governor for a full hour and threw up my first attempt at some tea, ginger ale, and a sandwich. Eventually I managed to alternate ginger ale, broth, and saltines to get enough liquid and fuel in me to have the confidence to push up and over Virginius.

The layover at Governor was just enough to get me up and over the top of Virginius and Maria and I made good time keeping up a steady hike up the pass. At the top, we were greeted by the world’s best aid station crew. Roch Horton, Fred Ecks, and a handful of other hard core volunteers were perched on a the ledge at the top of Virginius under a tiny little tarp. They had propane tanks, lights, and even a stereo blaring. Roch ushered me over to sit on the one available spot with a camp pad laid out while other volunteers draped a sleeping bag over me to keep me warm. In quick succession Roch handed me coke, chicken broth, and a pierogi. He was so efficient about it that I didn’t even have a chance to think about whether or not my stomach could handle it. I just drank and ate whatever he gave me. The pierogi was possibly the best food I’d had all day! While I swallowed the last of my pierogi, Roch gave some good words of encouragement and rattled off the stats, "I was doing great (really?), only 33 miles to the finish, 5 miles to Telluride, just a small 40ft climb over Mendota saddle, one snow field on the traverse below, and just a couple patches on the other side to get to good trail, and you’re out of here in 5, 4, 2, 2, 1." With that, I was on my feet and on my way down the hill.

I had my first big fall on the way down. Snow fields opened up to a really steep and rocky section with running water over loose gravel and scree. I tripped and went flying head first. I was able to get my hands up but I still had a firm grip on both trekking poles so I ended up punching both fists straight into the rocks in front of my face. I took most of the fall on my left arm and just barely bumped my head and rolled over through the running water. It hurt like hell and I couldn’t put much weight on my left arm. But I still was able to grip my pole and was able to use it for balance the rest of the way down.

By Telluride, I was getting seriously sick again. I threw up in the bushes in the park one more time and then settled into a chair to re-start the slow process of getting fluids and calories down bit by bit. Eric, Lisa, and my mom were here to help and while they may not think they did much, it was a huge help to have friends and family with me.

Just before dawn, I finally decided it was time to go and got up and headed up the long climb to Oscar’s with Eric. I was still nauseous and was barely able to keep up sipping water and nibbling on saltines. To make matters worse, I had developed a nasty cough. I kept hacking up crud from my lungs which threatened to trigger another violent episode of vomited every few minutes. Eric and I caught up with Blake through this section and we played a game of slow motion leap frog all the way to the Chapman aid station. I joked with Blake about racing as we traded places ….our head to head battle up to Oscar’s was probably a bit less exciting than watching senior citizens putter along with walkers and canes. At the top of Oscar’s we were rewarded with some amazing views. I actually felt fortunate that I had such a rough night. If I had pushed on through Governor and Telluride without stopping, I would have gone over this pass in the dark and missed some of the best views of the entire course. For a few moments I was having fun again, enjoying the views, and soaking in the experience of being out on such an amazing trail. And then I puked again. Just a few steps from the top on the last snow field, I just couldn’t hold it. I swear, my socks nearly came out through this one. It was awful.

On the other side of Oscar’s, I was greeted by the gnarliest, nastiest, pile of talus. It was almost impossible to walk through this jagged pile of rocks. I took back all the bad things I said about the climbs up the snow fields. This was just brutal!

At Chapman, my day finally started to turn around. Ryan and Megan were at the aid station waiting for their runner so it was nice to see some friendly faces. We all had a good laugh …mostly at Eric in his ridiculous outfit. He’d been wearing Kari’s pink running skirt and a hog heaven tank top all day. We laughed about some other stuff …I’m really not sure what. At this stage of exhaustion, you kind of have to laugh at everything. Otherwise you’d just break down and cry. Good times!

In our short stay at Chapman, I managed to get a cup of coffee down and ate a few cookies. Eric and I repacked our gear to take just what we needed to cover the last 18 miles to Silverton. It was still only a little after 10am and Eric pulled out one head lamp and asked if I thought we should take it. There was an awkward pause for a moment and the head lamp went back in the pack. "Only" 18 miles at Hardrock was still a long way to go and a lot could go wrong.

From Chapman to the finish I was able to keep drinking and eating cookies. I kept a schedule of 1 cookie per mile and wow, what a difference some consistent calories and fluids makes. We hiked steadily up Grant Swamp pass. I pulled myself up the final near-vertical scree chute almost entirely with my poles – just kicking my feet into the loose dirt for enough foothold to plant another pole up the slope and haul myself up another foot. We lingered at the top for a few moments to catch our breath, enjoy the views, and visit Joel Zucker’s memorial. After a few switchbacks of sliding and tip toeing through more nasty scree and rocks, the trail opened up and we were finally able to start running at a decent pace to the KT aid station below.

On the climb up to Putnam from KT, I finally got hit with a major hail storm. Fortunately we stayed below tree line for most of the storm and just got stopped for a few minutes at tree line with Nathan and Devon and several other runners. I was amazed at just how drastically the weather changed. My feet were numb from running through the hail and ice water filled single track and I was starting to have trouble bending my fingers to keep a good grip on my poles. Just 20 minutes earlier I had been roasting under the hot sun. And a mere 20 minutes later on our way up the endless climb to Putnam, I was roasting again under the blazing sun. On the climb to Putnam, the end was finally in sight and I finally started to get some energy for the final push. From the ridge it was all downhill to the finish. But wait, that one wasn’t the ridge. The top is the next ridge over on the right. Oh crap, that’s not it either. The top of the ridge is way the hell up on that next huge hill. Straight up the grassy slope, one pole plant and one foot step at a time. Ugh!

The cruise downhill from Putnam went well. Eric and I stopped just long enough to say hello to Mark Overson and check that we had enough water to make to the finish. I was able to move pretty well through most of the easy sections and only slowed down to pick my way through the intermittent talus fields along the way. At the bottom of the hill, we had one more challenge blocking our way to Silverton – the Mineral river crossing. The river crossing was roped off but after 97+ miles, getting across without losing my feet was no easy task. The water was waist deep and running fast. I had to hold the rope with both hands and lean with my full weight upstream with both legs locked. Each footstep was an effort and it felt like the current was going to rip my quads right off my bones.

After a few hundred yards hobbling on numb, tired legs, Eric and I got moving again ran the last couple miles into town. We hiked a couple of the last slopes, turned the corner at the top of the hill by the shrine and ran every step of the way through town. No one was chasing me at the time. I wasn’t racing any more and really didn’t have any reason to hurry. I just wanted to get to the finish. No matter how bad some of the run had been, I wanted to finish strong and I wanted to run. I can’t describe just how good it felt to get to the end and kiss than damn rock.

This event was far more than a race. Hardrock is ultra running at it’s best. It humbles the elite. It’s ruthlessly unforgiving of the ill prepared and inexperienced. Fierce competitors become allies. Strangers become friends. There is an overwhelming positive force from every person involved that wills you to succeed.

Congrats to all of the 80 official finishers as well as the 2 final finishers who made it back to Silverton after the cut off. Thanks to Duncan, Matt, Blake, Nathan, and Devon for the good company out on the trail. I’m glad you all made it to the finish line. Thanks to Eric and Maria for doing such an awesome job pacing and escorting me safely for over 60 miles to the finish. Thanks Mom and Lisa for coming out to support this crazy adventure driving all over Colorado and staying up all night in the middle of nowhere. And a huge thank you to all the volunteers who made this event possible.

I look forward to seeing everyone again in Silverton next July. If I don’t get a spot as a runner in the lottery, I’ll be out there to volunteer, pace, or crew to try to pay back some of the support that helped get me to the finish line this year.

For more insight into the Hardrock experience I recommend reading Nick, Joe, Dakota, Devon, and Tim‘s reports.

I’ll post more photos as soon as I have a chance to get them organized.

The map info is online here.

Bighorn is still one of my all time favorite events. The scenery on the trail is incredible and the race organization and support is fantastic. This year with record snow levels in the Bighorn mountains, the original course had to be re-routed but the race organizers did an excellent job pulling together a final runnable route just days before the race. The modified route included an extra out and back spur from Dry Fork, started in Dayton instead of up the road near the Tongue river trailhead, and turned around 2 stations below Porcupine at the Spring Marsh aid station. This made crew access a bit trickier with accessible points only at Dry Fork and Footbridge. But they managed to preserve the majority of the original 100 mile route and still managed to offer the same outstanding aid station support.

Victoria had medical approval to have a pacer for the full 100 miles of the race and after her second pacer dropped out with an injury, I was going to have to pace her for 75 miles from the second Dry Fork stop through to the finish. We figured she would be safe enough running with Kristel and other friends for the first 24.5 miles until she met me at Dry Fork.

In hind sight, I probably should have rested more for such a long stretch of pacing. But there just didn’t seem to be any time between the start of the race in Dayton, driving up to Dry Fork, meeting and helping other runners coming into and out of Dry Fork. The morning and afternoon flew by and I spent the day caught up in the commotion at the aid station. This really caught up with me later in the evening. And as a word of warning, if anyone decides to pace Victoria, make sure you show up well rested and bring your A game. She set the pace the entire time I ran with her and just kept moving relentlessly. She powered up the wall to Bear Camp in the dark like it was nothing. And even when she got tired, she still kept up a determined hiking pace. Unfortunately I turned out to be the worst pacer ever. After warning Victoria about the hazards of stopping and sitting at comfortable aid stations, I was the first to say hell yes to a nice chair by the fire at Spring Marsh. Somewhere in the dark between Bear Camp and Cow Camp, I got really drowsy and started getting tunnel vision in the beam of my headlamp. Reflective trail markers on the trees started to melt and drip down the tree trunks. I dropped back behind Victoria several times and finally told her I needed to take a minute to just stop and close my eyes to refocus again. Asking Victoria to stop when she was still trucking along over 65 miles into her run when I had only gone about 40 miles qualifies me as the absolute worst pacer ever.

We managed to make it through the night and arrived at Cow Camp for a brief breakfast break. On the way back to Dry Fork, we crossed paths with the 50 mile runners. The re-routed 50 mile course started at Dry Fork and went out and back to Footbridge. On the normal race route, the different race distances usually merge together at the mid to back of the pack closer to the finish. This year it was really nice to see the full 50 mile field. They were only about 2 miles into their race and the front runners were flying. It was great to see the rest of our Fort Collins friends charge by us and it helped give both Victoria and I an energy boost to push the final miles in to the Dry Fork aid station.

On the way to the Twin Buttes aid station at the end of the spur from Dry Fork, Victoria started to get really dizzy with bad tunnel vision and spots. She was able to walk the last tenth of a mile into the aid station and stopped for an extended break to warm up, drink some fluids, and try to recover. Unfortunately she wasn’t snapping out of it and with her condition, it wasn’t safe to push through this. So she made the smart decision to drop. It’s really too bad that it ended this way since she was doing so well right up to the end. But she made it home safe and healthy and is already coming around to start considering another 100 miler.

And despite getting my but kicked on the overnight out on the trail, I really had a great time. We had a huge group of friends out there from Fort Collins and Boulder with a lot of firsts and PR’s in all events. This is definitely an event that I’d like to make an annual tradition.

Here’s a link to Alex’s 50 mile report. After resting up at the park, I jogged up the road and ran the last mile in with him.

Here are a few photos from the weekend:

[Show as slideshow]

I new it was going to be a long day but really expected it to spend most of the time just lounging around waiting. And David hasn’t ever seriously focused on running. Before this race he’s never run longer than a marathon and his longest training run to prepare for this was only 15 miles. So I expected my role in the double marathon to be a lot of walking, moral support, and encouragement to make sure David got up and trudged the last leg of the race to the finish. Last October, David attempted the Virginia Double Ironman and ended up dropped at mile 17 on the run after getting extremely sick. This time he was determined to make it to the finish line but I was expecting a real suffer fest.

Instead, I got worked like a rented mule. Or more accurately a rented smelly ultra running donkey.

The swim was held at an outdoor pool and the bike and run were held at Flatwoods Park. The bike leg was a 7 mile loop and the run was on a 1.75 mile out and back. Initially I thought this would be horribly monotonous but it turned out to be a perfect setup to make it easy to support and to keep each lap small enough to just focus on the next manageable step. It also kept all of the competitors in close proximity the entire day but David resisted the temptation to get caught up in the chase and just stuck to his own pacing plan.

Nina and I got up early to get David to the pool and help with the transition to the bike. We stayed busy at the pool counting laps to make sure we knew when to get the car ready to go. Over the course of 76 laps, David didn’t vary off of his planned lap splits by more than 5 seconds and was out of the pool in 2:13 just a couple minutes ahead of schedule and right behind the leaders Marcel and Kamil.

David’s mom, Amanda, and Ian joined us for the rest of the day on the bike loop and we kept busy making sure that David had a choice of water, gatorade, gels, and noodles to rip out of our hands every 20 minutes around the loop. He only got off the bike to take 2 breaks to eat some noodles at mile 114 and 169. After dark he slowed his pace down a couple minutes and then took a few slower easy laps at the end to make sure his legs were in decent shape for the run. But other than his planned breaks, he spent the entire day clicking off laps every 20 minutes. I managed to sneak in a short nap in the afternoon while Nina and Amanda kept up with the bottle refills. But we really didn’t have much opportunity to slack off.

Friday on the bike loop. Water, gu, noodles?

David on the bike loop. Looking good with his pointy helmet.

After 12 hours and 7 minutes, David finally got off the bike and was ready to start the run just after 10pm. Steve didn’t have any restrictions on pacing or muling on the run so I loaded up with a single bottle belt for myself and a handheld bottle to hand back and forth to David. I added a couple extra pouches to my belt to hold enough food for both of us and I brought my cell phone so we could call in requests to Nina and Amanda back at the start/finish. From the start we worked out a pacing strategy to run to each turn around and then walk out about 100 yards. On each walk break David was able to drink and get some sort of gel, shot block, cracker, or e-caps down. David kept this up for the rest of the night and stayed on pace between about 19 and 21 minutes per lap. On the last couple of laps David extended his walking breaks but didn’t run a lap any slower than 22 minutes. Other than a very short bathroom break, David never even stopped to stretch. And damn it, I wanted to stop to stretch. My quads were fried 25 miles into the run. I think it may have been a combination of forcing myself to run David’s pace and the pancake flat route that I’m not really used to running on. When we started the run, I had originally planned on leaving at least the last lap for Amanda to run David into the finish. But by the 28th lap, I asked Amanda to jump in and run with us because I wasn’t sure if I’d make it the rest of the way. Amanda helped to pull both David and I along through lap 29 and then I finally tapped out at just over 50 miles and Amanda paced David in for a very impressive 3rd place finish. For someone who claims not to be much of a runner, David ran a hell of a race. Through the entire night Jennifer Vogel (who’s experience includes an 18:30 100 mile PR) was determined to run David down but he fought back every attempt she made to surge forward and make up any ground. It wasn’t until after sunrise that Jennifer finally figured out the math on the remaining distance and let off the pressure. And although Marcel and Kamil were both comfortably in the lead, I’m sure David gave them some reason to worry though the night. In a long run like this a 4 to 5 mile lead won’t last lost once you get sick or your legs severely cramp up.

After 50 miles, I'm done but David is still running strong.

So what I expected to be a light recovery weekend turned out to be an epic experience. I feel very fortunate to have been able to take part in David’s accomplishment. He didn’t just finish this race. He ran a smart race, he worked his ass off without faltering, and he ran competitively. If he decides to do another double, I’m sure he’ll be a contender for the overall win and if he decides to tackle the triple, he definitely has the physical and mental ability to do it. And now that David is officially an ultra runner, we won’t pick on him about the unitard and pointy helmet:-)

Nina, me, David, Amanda, and RD Steve at the finish line.

Photo by Eric Lee

Going into the race, I really didn’t know what to expect. My recovery from Ghost Town was slower than expected and between some really nasty cold weather, social commitments, and getting mentally sidetracked by Hardrock, I really hadn’t done any specific training or even given the Moab 55k a single thought. I just planned to go out for a weekend road trip with friends and have fun on the course.

The race started off with a nice social lead pack with Ryan and Dakota leading the way up the first hill. I settled in with Sam and Scott, said hello to Jason Koop from Ghost Town and for at least a couple minutes it seemed like this was going to be a pleasant group fun run.

Ryan taking the lead at the start followed by Tim Parr, Dakota, Sam, Scott, and I. (Photo by Dan Brillon)

That lasted about half a mile up the first little climb before the fast guys started to pull ahead on the next 3 mile stretch of gradual downhill. As the leaders were pulling ahead, I tried to settle into a comfortable cruising speed and was surprised to see my mile 2 split at 6:32 and mile 3 at 6:38. What was more surprising than running at my marathon PR pace at the start of a trail 50k race was that it actually felt pretty good. So I kept up the same effort level and finally settled in to run along with Scott.

We cruised up the first climb on Metal Masher at a brisk pace and despite the on and off rain and occasional gust of wind, we were both feeling very good. But on the back stretch of the first loop, we hit the first real headwinds. Mile 13 through 18 is usually a really nice stretch of jeep road with a gradual downhill drop where you can really haul ass, stretch the legs out, and recharge before the next challenging section of slickrock. This year we ran straight into a relentless headwind. Scott and I teamed up to take turns drafting off of each other through this section. It did help slightly and we were able to maintain a strong pace but we still expended too much energy that we’d really need later in the race.

By mile 18 where I had planned to really start my final push through the last half of the course, my legs were already pretty fried. But on a positive note, we finally had a decent break in the weather and the sun almost broke through the clouds. So on a fairly easy section before the climb up Gold Bar, I took the opportunity to peel off my wind breaker. But as I was fumbling to re-clip my waist pack, I caught a toe. My hands were still trapped on my belt and I barely got my left hand up before I did a full belly flop into the dirt. Fortunately my shoulder and face hit soft dirt and only my hand, ribs, and knees smacked down on the slickrock. As I was dusting myself off Scott and a couple other runners pulled off ahead. That was really demoralizing. I took a couple minutes to walk it off and after I figured out that nothing was seriously damaged, I pulled myself back together and charged back up the hill to catch up with Scott. After the next aid station, I pulled ahead and didn’t see Scott again until the finish line. I was pretty tired at this point and in a bit of pain from the fall and just needed to focus on running whatever pace I could manage in the final grind to the finish.

The final miles of the race were much harder than I remember from two years ago. The slickrock route was marked as well as it possibly could have been marked. But without any visible trail and a limited number of bushes and rocks to attach flagging, it’s always a challenge to follow the course through here. A few times a long the way I had to stop to look for markers and after the last aid station, I went about a tenth of a mile off course following another runner. Fortunately I caught the error in time to get back on track without losing much time. Headwinds started gusting on and off through this last section and following Murphy’s Law, they blew the hardest whenever I hit a nice runnable patch of road or slickrock. There were also several sections of very soft sand that I don’t remember at all from two years ago. So a few stretches of dirt that I remembered to be really nice easy breaks from the pounding on slickrock were sand traps that were difficult to walk through, let alone keep up any decent running pace. And the last 4 miles that I remembered being a very fast and easy downhill on jeep road had a lot more technical slickrock and uphills. In the last few miles I started catching up with 33k runners so it was helpful to have people to chase and it was a great mental boost to see some friends along the final stretch.

One of many sand traps. (Photo by Kemp Nussbaum)

With the rough conditions, my finish time wasn’t quite as fast as I hoped but I still managed to finish with a 21 minute PR from the last time I ran the race in 2009. Erik, Sam, and Stephen ended up finishing just a few minutes ahead of me so I suppose there may have been a chance to push a bit harder to catch them. Through the last 10 miles I ran the uphills fairly conservatively to save energy to push the easy downhill sections that never really appeared. So I may have been able to run a bit faster if I had just pushed any runnable line, up or down, that I could spot far enough ahead that didn’t have a headwind or a sand trap. But that’s just speculation in hindsight. I ran as hard as I could for the day and am pretty happy about my finish time and place. I have a lot of work to do to get ready for Hardrock but between this run and my run at Ghost Town last month, I’m feeling very good about where I’m starting from for this season.

Our Fort Collins trail runners and Special Idiots took over most of the local Mexican restaurant. (Photo by Chris Gerber)

We were very focused on thoroughly re-hydrating after the race. (Photo by Eric Lee)

I carpooled down with Kristel, Victoria, and Nick Pedatella on Friday and our plan was to camp out on Susan’s property and take the day on Saturday to relax. Unfortunately we didn’t make it to Hillsboro in time for dinner at Susan’s but there was still some good apple crisp left over and Nick, Victoria, and Kristel got their first dose of Susan’s story telling …including one interesting bit about the history of Hillsboro’s brothels back when it was a booming mining town.

Saturday was a nice lazy day with an easy 3 mile jog to start the day, a soak in the hot springs in Truth or Consequences, and a huge pre-race dinner. The Saturday dinner included several tables of potluck contributions from the runners and mountains of food from Susan’s kitchen. Ghost Town is one of the few ultra events that I run where I actually gain weight by the end of the weekend. Susan’s lead kitchen volunteer, Tim, did an amazing job coordinating everything. Tim was working away in Susan’s kitchen from the time that we arrived Friday evening until we left Sunday evening. I’m pretty sure he never left the kitchen the entire weekend.

Race morning was a bit chilly at about 30 degrees but compared to previous years it was pretty mild. I was feeling good after a fairly restful week but a bit nervous about the race. Personally I hoped to have a good run and beat my time from 2010 and if I was lucky, I’d see how close I could get to beating Nick Clark’s record. Now I don’t really believe that I can outrun Nick. But he set the 2010 record a week after running a course record at the Bandera 100k and he was a bit beat up so I figured there might be a slim chance. And before the race, Susan did her best to stir up some trouble and somehow my 5:09 to 5:20 goal turned into a show down to see whether Nick Pedatella or I could break 5 hours. Jason Koop managed to sneak into the race below Susan’s radar but both Nick and I knew he’d be fast and would probably be the guy to beat.

From the start Nick and I took off at a brisk pace on the road and ran together for the first 10 miles. When we left the Stone Hut station heading out on the short out and back, Jason was right behind us. At the crest of the hill after Stone Hut, I decided to stretch out my legs and push the pace on the long downhill before the spur trail and managed to pull ahead out of sight of both Nick and Jason. The spur trail was mostly covered in ankle deep snow so it was definitely slower and harder this year. I just focused on chugging along at a steady pace through the snow. On the way back down the hill, I got my first chance to see how Nick and Jason were doing. They looked just fine coming up the hill together a little less than 2 tenths of a mile behind me.

About 15 miles into the run I was still feeling pretty good and keeping up a brisk pace but my hamstrings started to really tighten up and ache and I really have no idea why. I’ve beat myself up pretty good on past runs but never had any issues with hamstrings. They didn’t seem to be getting worse and weren’t slowing me down. It was just a little more uncomfortable than I would have liked at this point in the run. So I shrugged it off and pressed on.

The drop down into the turn around at Cave Creek also had quite a bit of snow so it was a bit slower and trickier than past years. But I made it to the turn around right on pace for a 5:09 finish goal. Unfortunately Jason was still lurking behind me looking really strong about a quarter mile back. Nick had dropped back a little further but was still only half a mile behind me. Both were too close for comfort.

From Cave Creek to the Hilltop station, I got to see most of the other runners out on the course. Everyone looked like they were having a great day and the positive energy from the rest of the field was a great boost to push through this tough section of the race.

At about mile 27 just before heading up the last big climb, Jason finally caught up with me. I was definitely feeling the distance in my legs at this point. I’d been running much faster than I’ve run in previous years and while the pace felt OK, I could tell that I just didn’t have the base training miles on my legs that I’m used to and these last miles of the race were serious work. The finish line was still a long way down the road so I let Jason pull ahead. I figured I’d just stick to my own pace up over the hill to Stone Hut and then really push the last 9 miles in to the finish to see if I could reel him back in. I arrived at the Stone Hut dog leg just as Jason was on his way out so I figured I was still in decent position to fight for a first place finish.

I really didn’t know what kind of runner Jason was. I just knew that he had a lot of experience with some fast finishes but most of his ultras were longer mountain races. I really hoped that he was more of mountain runner than a road runner. So I hauled ass down the road from Stone Hut as fast as I could keep my legs moving. For a few miles back down to the highway, their are several sections where you can see a mile or more ahead. When I got my first view of the long road ahead I hoped to catch a glimpse of Jason to get an idea of how much of a lead he had on me. No luck. He was gone. Nowhere in sight. It turns out, he’s a hell of a fast runner on the road. In the last 10 miles of the race, Jason dropped me by 10 minutes to finish with a new course record in 5:06.

With Jason gone and Nick nowhere in sight behind me, I had to struggle to mentally stay focused to keep pushing my pace through to the finish. I had to remind myself that I started this race to run as well as I possibly could. I wasn’t going to let myself shut down in the final miles to just cruise in for an easy 2nd place finish. Those last 6 miles on the road were damn hard. I didn’t have anyone to chase and there wasn’t anyone chasing me. It was just me and my brain against my legs. My hamstrings were screaming and if I let my concentration drift for just a few seconds my pace would instantly drop. I kept pushing down the road one guard rail post at a time and eventually Hillsboro came into view and I turned the corner onto Susan’s property to finish in 5:16. I wasn’t anywhere near first and quite a bit short of my 5:09 stretch goal. But it was a new PR for me by almost 9 minutes and the 3rd fastest finish time in Ghost Town history.

While it would have been nice to win, I’m still really happy about my run. I checked my splits compared to last year and the snow and some of the uphills that felt slower really weren’t that bad. I only lost about 43 seconds in the snow on the Spur trail. The trip to Cave Creek and back was only a minute slower than last year. And I may have started out fairly aggressively running the first 10 miles about 4 minutes faster than 2010 but in the last 8 miles, I shaved over 4 minutes off of my 2010 pace. So I think I ran a pretty good race and look forward to seeing what I can build off of this for the rest of 2011.

For the rest of the day I enjoyed a nice warm day in the sun with good friends. Nick ended up aggravating an old ankle sprain but managed to make it to the finish in 3rd place not too far behind me. Kari and Chris tied for 1st place for the women. Kristel and Victoria finished their run together in 2nd for the women. Mary had a solid run finishing her longest ultra event yet. And Jennifer finished her first ultra. She looked great out on the road when I saw her on my way back from Vista and she looked just as good running the last mile to the finish line.

As usual, Susan had a ton of food out for the post race – home made enchiladas, soups, cookies, chips, and fruit. And that was just the snacks to tide us over until the full post race BBQ. In the last 4 years, I think this was by far the best Ghost Town event yet. Aside from Susan’s great work, we had a really great field of runners this year. It’s really too bad that this was the last year for the event. But I’m sure I’ll see many of the Ghost Town alumni out at many other races. And it sounds like Susan may have some plans for something new in the future.

Thank you Susan and the rest of the Ghost Town regulars for 4 good years!

You can check out Susan’s website for a full list of race reports and photos.

Jeff Genova put together a pretty good slide show of photos from the event in this video:

I didn’t carry my camera out on the course but got a few photos from the weekend here:

[Show as slideshow]

We had about 50 runners out for Mr. October‘s inaugural El Chubbo Grande Fat Ass 50k. With 3 start times, 3 routes to choose from, and no less than 38 opportunities to get lost, we had runners spread out all over Horsetooth and Lory parks. Everyone was in good company out on the trails and a friendly face was usually only a couple switchbacks away up or down the trail. Running conditions were ideal with clear dry trails and temperatures in the mid-30′s.

I had a blast enjoying my favorite trails with old and new friends and winning the 50k was icing on the cake. I’ve had a pretty good year of running accomplishments with decent results at Ghost Town, Jemez, Western States, and surviving the full Grand Slam series. But I never imagined that I could actually win such a prestigious and competitive event like this. I’m definitely going to bask in the glory of holding the El Chubbo Grande 50k course record for at least a couple days …or until Nick gets around to running the course himself to set a proper FKT.

I think the real key to my success this weekend was adopting some of Nick’s training strategies. About a week and a half ago, I stopped shaving. It’ll be several more months before I can really pull off the scraggly mountain hippy look but I’ve definitely seen some positive results from merely a quarter inch of facial hair. I have a few more weeks to keep growing my hair out for Ghost Town so I’m feeling pretty confident about my chances there next month.

I’ve also made some adjustments to my pre-race fueling strategy. Nick swears by glazed donuts before every race but I really believe that little chocolate donuts are a far superior pre-race fuel.

I started out with the 8am wave hoping to finish the course in 6 to 6:30 to give myself enough time to make it back to the potluck and beer by 3:00. On the first climb up to Horsetooth Rock, I fell into pace with Dan Brillon and we kept each other company on the trail all the way to Arthur’s Rock. We made it to the top of Horsetooth in good time and started catching up with runners from the 7am start on the Stout loop. This was quite a bit faster than I had expected to run but I felt good and just kept cruising along. At Arthur’s Rock, Dan decided to take the marathon route while I continued on up the Timber trail to the north end of Lory Park. I met up with Jen Malmberg, Alex, Mike, and Rob on the way down to the valley trail. On the next mini climb up to the Overlook Trail around mile 20, I finally started losing some steam. But Chris and Nick were waiting with an aid station set up at the Arthur’s Rock trailhead and I grabbed a quick water refill and a cookie and headed off down the easy stretch through the valley to recharge before the final beast of a climb up Sawmill to Westridge. My legs were getting pretty tired here but at this point more runners were converging into the final homestretch to the finish. It was a great mental boost to meet up with friends along the toughest section of the course. At the top of Towers, Sam finally caught up with me and took the lead for a few miles before he decided to take a turn at the Waterhole marker instead of the Wathan trail. I caught up with Tim Long just as we started the final big descent down Wathan and Tim stayed right behind me pushing me through to the finish at Nick’s house. (Tim claims that I was pulling him but I’m pretty sure he was doing the pushing.) My final time was 5:44 – a full 16 minutes faster than what I thought would be a good time.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to run a good hard long run and finish strong. This was my longest run since Wasatch and while I didn’t run an all out race pace, I kept up a pretty hard tempo effort at the end of the run. It felt really good to run well again. This event was just what I needed to get out and run a more challenging route at a bit faster pace than I’d normally run solo.

Nick really outdid himself on this one. This Fat Ass race/social run was organized better than many other official races I’ve seen. Mary’s design work was a very nice touch on the start/finish banner and her full course map was incredibly helpful. We may have cursed Nick’s course design once or twice on the way up Sawmill but the route was the perfect way to give our out-of-town friends the grand tour of our favorite trails. And it was a fun way to make the trail system into a new challenge for those of us who run here regularly. And of course, the post race at Nick’s house was a fantastic way to end the day. I really hope we can turn this into an annual tradition. Thanks Nick!

I’ve posted the full course map from my GPS here.

Here are a few photos from the run (including a couple from Nick and Rob)

[Show as slideshow]

The day started off well enough. The 5am start is pretty early but made a world of difference from the 4am starts at Leadville and Vermont. I at least started off the day feeling somewhat rested and normal. But I already new that I was going to have a difficult day. In the three weeks after Leadville I cut back on my running mileage significantly and started taking more rest days. But the more I tried to rest and recover, the worse I felt. My last easy social jog with the Fort Collins Trail Runners the previous Tuesday felt like a chore. I was getting winded on easy climbs and my legs were aching and sore. I was in no condition to race …let alone finish a difficult mountain 100 miler. But I had set out to finish the Grand Slam series 9 months ago and couldn’t quit after finishing the first 3 events.

Chris and I at the start. And no, we didn’t plan to coordinate outfits.

Chris and I at the start. And no, we didn’t plan to coordinate outfits.

The first 18 miles went fairly well. I started out fairly slowly and settled into a nice easy pace somewhere in the middle of the pack. The weather was cold and foggy for most of the morning and there was a dusting of wet snow at the top of the first climb on Chinscraper. It would have liked to see the view with clear skies but the cool weather at the start of the race made for perfect running conditions and I was able to keep on top of fueling and hydration fairly well.

Still doing OK so far.

Still doing OK so far.

Eric met me at the Francis Peak aid station and gave me some reassurance that I was running well at a good pace. At the time I was roughly on pace for a 24 hour finish. But 18 miles is far too early to start thinking about the finish line and I knew that my current condition and pace wasn’t going to hold up much longer. Shortly after leaving Francis Peak, somewhere around mile 25, fatigue finally set in. My legs felt like they did at mile 75 at Western States. At Vermont, it was mile 60. And at Leadville, it was mile 40.

Still running but my legs are in serious pain.

Still running but my legs are in serious pain.

By mile 30, my legs were starting to hurt and on the last downhill coming into the Big Mountain aid station at mile 39, I was in serious pain. I stopped to sit and eat and try to pull myself together for the next leg. Eric informed me that Chris was only about 45 minutes behind me. I thought it would be nice to have some company on the trail so I told Eric that if Chris could catch up a bit more, I’d wait for him at Lamb’s Canyon. Now I had something positive to look forward to. I just needed to get to the next crew checkpoint at mile 53 and I could meet up with Chris. But shortly after walking out of the Big Mountain aid station I realized that Chris could probably catch up with me on the trail and if he did, I wouldn’t be able to keep up. The pain in my legs was getting worse so I focused on alternating walking and jogging at regular intervals. The downhills were getting more and more difficult and I could barely manage a slow shuffle down some of the rockier sections.

Sure enough, Chris arrived shortly after I made it to Lamb’s Canyon. We both took some extra time to get ready for the next long leg to the Mill Creek aid station and then headed out together. It was a huge help to have Chris’ company on this section. He really pulled me a long the entire way keeping a strong, steady pace on the uphill climbs and even pulling ahead on the downhills. This part of a 100 miler is always the toughest – 50 to 60 miles is far enough to hurt like hell but is too far from the finish to comprehend making it through to the end. I really don’t know if I would have been able to make it on my own.

I remember feeling pretty lousy at this point. But I guess I still managed to keep smiling. Getting crew support from Eric and meeting up with Chris really helped.

I remember feeling pretty lousy at this point. But I guess I still managed to keep smiling. Getting crew support from Eric and meeting up with Chris really helped.

We covered the last few miles up the Millcreek road in the dark and by the time we reached the aid station, it was freezing cold. Neither Chris or I had packed enough cold weather gear in our drop bags but fortunately Chris’ friends Jay and Erick drove up to meet him and they pulled every bit of extra clothing they had in their van out and made a nice little yardsale for Chris and I. Erick loaned me a fleece jacket and Jay gave me the sweatpants he was wearing. If I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet up with Chris and if Jay and Erick hadn’t decided to drop in to meet Chris at Millcreek, there’s no way I would have finished this race. And aside from the extra warm clothes, it was really nice to meet up with friends and get some positive encouragement. Jay said we both still looked great. I told him that it was dark and he obviously couldn’t see very well.

Chris and I saved from freezing at Mill Creek with warm clothes borrowed from Jay and Erick. There’s no way I would have survived with what I packed in my drop bags.

Chris and I saved from freezing at Mill Creek with warm clothes borrowed from Jay and Erick. There’s no way I would have survived with what I packed in my drop bags.

Shortly after leaving Millcreek, Chris started pulling ahead again. I knew I couldn’t keep up with him and I told him to go on ahead at his own pace. It was too cold to slow down and wait for me. The next sections to Desolation Lake at mile 67 and Scotts Tower at mile 71 were a complete blur. It was dark and I was cold, hurting, and exhausted. It was a struggle just to stay awake and I had to stop several times to just lean on my trekking poles and rest my eyes. I was afraid of stopping in the cold so I started using my poles to keep myself upright walking hand over hand one step at a time. At Scotts Tower, I stopped to sit in the tent and take a longer rest. Scott Kunz was just getting ready to leave when I arrived. He invited me to join his group but since they had passed me somewhere in the dark after Millcreek, there was no way I’d be able to keep up. It was still nice to see another friend there – even if it was just for a minute. After a couple cups of hot soup and coffee, I got myself back on my feet and headed down the hill to Brighton. I was able to shuffle along OK for the first couple of miles but exhaustion set in again and I could only manage the same hand over hand walk one pole and one step at a time. I don’t remember much about this section other than a seemingly endless paved road into Brighton.

Somehow I made it to the lodge. I think it was sometime around 3am and since I had until 5pm to officially finish the last 25 miles, I decided to take some extra time to stop and rest. The lodge was crowded and cold but I found a corner space on the floor to sit and eat. I got changed into fresh dry shorts, clean socks, and the rest of my cold weather gear that I had left in the crew bag with Eric. And after a second thought, I put Jay’s sweatpants back on over my running tights. I tried to take a short nap but it was too noisy and cold to really get comfortable. At the very least it was good to stretch my legs out, lie down flat, and close my eyes for a while. At about 4:35am I was ready to head out again and hoped that this short break had been enough to get me to the finish.

Trying to pull myself back together at Brighton Lodge. Changed into dry, warmer clothes and fresh socks. Got some good food and hot soup and tried to take a 30min nap.

Trying to pull myself back together at Brighton Lodge. Changed into dry, warmer clothes and fresh socks. Got some good food and hot soup and tried to take a 30min nap.

The climb out of Brighton to the high point on the course at 10,500ft was still freezing cold. But with fresh warm clothes and a little bit of energy, we made it to the top at a steady pace. But on the next descent down the other side, I started falling apart. The downhill was steep and rocky and my legs were completely shot. I supported my weight on the way down almost entirely with my trekking poles which was an exhausting and difficult process. It started to get light out but it was just a cold gray reminder that I had been up all day and all night. Instead of feeling a boost of energy with a new day, I just felt dead tired. My eyes blurred, I got dizzy, and just barely caught myself on my poles before pitching forward onto the trail. I held on for a couple seconds before my legs buckled and I dropped to the side of the trail and lay flat on my back. I barely remember lying there but Eric says I was out cold and snoring in 10 seconds flat. We were only about 500 yards from the Ant Knolls aid station but I just couldn’t quite make it.

The Brighton rest stop wasn’t enough. We left at about 4:35am and made it over the highest climb of the day and was on our way to Ant Knolls aid at mile 80.3 by dawn. I passed out at about mile 80.1.

The Brighton rest stop wasn’t enough. We left at about 4:35am and made it over the highest climb of the day and was on our way to Ant Knolls aid at mile 80.3 by dawn. I passed out at about mile 80.1.

I don’t remember getting up but I guess I eventually did and managed to make it to the aid station. Ant Knolls was by far the best aid station on the entire course. Granted any aid station that I arrived at in the condition I was in would have been a welcome sight. But they had a huge tent with cots, sleeping bags, and a heater going. The volunteers were busy cooking a ton of food for breakfast and they had muffins, apple strudel, OJ, coffee, and pretty much anything you could possibly think of. I headed straight for a cot and got into a warm sleeping bag and finally managed to get some good quality sleep. I think I slept for about 30-40min and then took a few more minutes to eat and have some coffee. The sun hadn’t hit the aid station yet so it was still freezing cold when Eric and I set back out onto the trail. But after a short half mile climb we came out onto an open ridge into beautiful warm sunshine. It was the start of a brand new day!

Early Sat morning at Ant Knolls.

Early Sat morning at Ant Knolls.

Half a mile after Ant Knolls we emerged on a beautiful ridge with warm sunshine.

Half a mile after Ant Knolls we emerged on a beautiful ridge with warm sunshine.

Everyone had warned me about how difficult the last 25 miles of the Wasatch course are. I had expected to endure miles and miles of the same technical, steep, nasty trail that we came down on our way to Ant Knolls. But I was pleasantly surprised to find miles of beautiful rolling single track trail with gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains. I was still tired and hurting but I was re-energized and able to stay awake and alert. My legs had finally loosened up a bit and I was able to keep up a slow jogging pace with the extra help of my poles. The trail was mostly dirt so it was easier to dig in the poles on the descents and get a good grip on the climbs. And I even started to use them on the flats getting into a rhythm alternating jogging and double poling. I don’t even remember going down the infamous Dive or Plunge. They were just a couple short, steep sections with ankle deep dust that didn’t seem too bad in broad daylight.

One of my favorite pictures from the course. I was hurting, broken down, and beyond exhausted. But this course was just spectacular start to finish.

One of my favorite pictures from the course. I was hurting, broken down, and beyond exhausted. But this course was just spectacular start to finish.

Bit by bit, I checked off the miles counting down to the finish. At the last aid station at Pot Bottom at mile 93, I stopped for one last time to eat, drink, and put my feet up to rest. When I got up, I set out determined to at least finish these last 7 miles strong. Eric and I power hiked up the last climb at a brisk pace and passed several other runners on the way up. Other than a couple minor dips along the way, it was all downhill to the finish line. I took off as fast as I could go. My legs hurt like hell but at this point, there wasn’t anything left to save them for. Going downhill was going to hurt no matter how fast I went and I was determined to finish this course running. I can’t tell you how good that last 100 yards of grass at the Homestead felt.

32 Hours 56 Minutes 19 Seconds.
Certainly not my best running performance but an incredible experience that I’m not sure I can describe.

32 Hours 56 Minutes 19 Seconds.
Certainly not my best running performance but an incredible experience that I’m not sure I can describe.

The finish at Wasatch was fairly anti-climactic. After having such amazing support at all of the 15 aid stations along the way, it was strange to arrive at the finish to find absolutely nothing there other than some other runners and crews milling about or sleeping. A guy who I assume was in charge of timing asked me what my number was and then walked away. There wasn’t a single volunteer. No medical staff. And no food. Eric found some water but I think it was from another crew who left shortly after. Fortunately other than being extremely tired and having the usual post race cramps and aches, I was in decent shape. The support from the volunteers along the way was what I really needed to finish so I can’t complain too much about the finish. I’ll would definitely go back and run this one again. I’d love to see how I could do fully trained, tapered, and rested. The course was absolutely incredible. The event was well organized with very detailed pre-race information and the course was marked extremely well. The event also had a great atmosphere of tradition from a lot of local runners who come back year after year to run or volunteer. I would definitely recommend this event and don’t think the 27,000ft of elevation gain should scare anyone off. It’s definitely a more challenging course than other 100 milers but it’s well supported and has a generous cut off. And the field is just large enough that you still see people on the trail on a regular basis but small enough that you can really enjoy the trail.

So this ends my Grand Slam for 2010. I’ve had dozens of people congratulate me on the accomplishment and everyone tells me how much of a big deal this is. But I really don’t think so. Plenty of other runners out there have run multiple hundreds in one season. Many have run more races and have run harder races. Many have run faster and even more have run far better than I have. There is sometimes a difference between running fast and running well. I may have finished Vermont and Leadville with respectable times but I know I didn’t run well. I deteriorated and got weaker with each race and just survived long enough to make it to the finish line. During my long ordeal at Wasatch, I didn’t overcome any monumental personal struggle. It wasn’t an achievement of will power or personal strength of my own. I only finished with the help and support of friends and family, hundreds of volunteers, and the positive encouragement of other runners along the way. Every email and phone call that I received before the race helped. And even though I had no idea who might be looking, I knew someone might be refreshing the online race results hoping to see me make it to the next aid station. I don’t remember when it was but Eric passed a message along from Kari sometime at the end of the race. Every little bit of support along the way helped. Personally I was physically and mentally beat and broken down. I just kept moving because I didn’t want to let anyone down.

So thanks to everyone who supported me along the way this year.

Next year I may run another 100 miler but before I make any plans, I intend to fill my schedule paying back favors pacing, crewing, and volunteering.

Click here for the full photo album.

Here’s the full interactive course map:

Leadville is really an over-priced, over-hyped, over-crowded event on a mediocre course. I will say that the event has a lot of potential. It could really be a world class race if it were organized with the same level of support and competition as Western States. After running events like Western States, Vermont, and Bighorn, paying $300 for Leadville is quite a let down.

If they can’t run the entire race on decent trails, they could at least make use of the miles and miles of perfectly accessible road to set up decent aid stations. I had a miserable time covering the final 10 mile stretch over Sugarloaf and the last 13.5 miles from May Queen and I can’t comprehend how anyone at the back of the pack pushing to make the cut offs could manage that. The race would have a much better finish rate with just a few more aid stations along the way. But I guess that’s part of the money making system. Bring in as many entries as possible from anyone and everyone and bank on a high DNS and DNF rate to pocket the profits. The volunteer aid station crews that were out there were fantastic. Especially the team that packed in gear on Llamas and camped on Hope pass. I just wish the race organizers would set up more aid station crews on the course.

And the sheer volume of trash on the trails really put me in a bad mood. On the way outbound, there weren’t more than 30-40 runners ahead of me but I still saw more dropped gel packets and other trash than I’d seen at every ultra I’ve run in the past two years. The runners who dropped that trash weren’t the brain dead zombies who couldn’t manage to hold onto a gel tab with swollen fingers. That’s just unacceptable behavior. On the way inbound, Eric filled his pockets with trash several times between Twin Lakes and Fish Hatchery. But even that was a losing battle and a token effort at best.

So I guess I can’t be surprised at my final performance at the race. You just can’t run a 100 miles well without being fulling mentally committed. I started out thinking that I might be able to run sub-20 if I had an exceptionally good day. At the very least I thought I could run under 24 hours comfortably. Well, I didn’t have an exceptionally good day and I think I’ve finally realized that if I continue to run races back to back each month like this, I probably won’t. I didn’t run under 24 hours either and it wasn’t comfortable.

The morning started out fairly well and I settled into a pretty brisk pace with the long line of runners making their way through the winding trail around Turquoise Lake to May Queen. I knew I had to push the pace a bit here to avoid getting stuck in a traffic jam with the rest of the 700 runners. But the pace actually felt pretty comfortable and I was in and out of May Queen a couple minutes ahead of my 20 hour goal.

The climb up Sugar Loaf was one of the nicest parts of the day. We hit daybreak and sunrise on this section and I had a chance to chat and catch up with a few other runners – Rod Bien, Neal Gorman, and Tim Waggoner. The climb felt pretty easy and relaxed and on the decent down Powerline my legs felt exceptionally good and I took and opportunity to jump ahead of a few runners.

Eric and Victoria were waiting for me at Fish Hatchery and had me loaded up and back on the road with fresh bottles of ice water and another packet of shot blocks without breaking stride. Unfortunately the next section included a few miles of pancake flat paved road and a long, gradual uphill on dirt road to the Half Moon aid station at mile 30. My paced dropped off considerably here and a couple dozen runners passed me. I wasn’t hurting and kept running steadily on this section. I’m just not that great at the flat easy stuff and was moving as fast as I could comfortably go.

Half Moon to Twin Lakes was a fairly nice section along the Colorado Trail. The course finally leaves the dirt roads and there area few really nice miles of winding trails through Aspen groves with an occasionally view of the valley to the east. The last couple miles into Twin Lakes is a pretty abrupt drop down to the low point on the course at 9200ft. Again, my legs felt great on the downhill and it was nice to really pick up some speed again after the last 15 miles of slow grinding.

Eric and Victoria had me in and out of Twin Lakes again without breaking stride and I was off to tackle the first climb up Hope Pass. The first couple miles leaving Twin Lakes crosses an open, marshy meadow with several stream crossings. Most of the water crossings weren’t much more than shallow puddles but the one real river crossing was ice cold and thigh deep. This really sucked the energy right out of me and it took about thirty minutes of slow shuffling to get any life back into my feet. The first climb up Hope was slower than I expected. I didn’t feel that bad at this point in the race but I just didn’t have much power in my step and wasn’t able to keep up my usually fast hiking speed. This was the first part of the race that I realized that I definitely wasn’t operating at 100% of my ability and 20 hours probably wasn’t a realistic goal to push for. On the other side of Hope I managed to loosen up and got the legs moving at a good downhill clip again. One hiker shouted that I was the fastest descent they’d seen so far ….so while I was pretty weak on my climbs and super slow on the flats, I had that going for me today.

After the fun bomb down the backside of Hope, I had to endure 3 gradual uphill miles on the dirt road to Winfield. The road and the climb weren’t all that bad but the endless line of crew vehicles kicking up dust was miserable. So here’s one more reason never to run this event. There is absolutely no reason to have this many cars driving on the same dusty dirt road that the runners are on. It would be far better to either set the aid station at the junction to Hope Pass or set up a shuttle bus for crews and pacers.

I made it to Winfield in good time in 9 hours and 20 minutes. That was just 20 minutes slower than my 20 hour goal pace so I was still pretty happy about that. Unfortunately my legs were starting to tighten up and slow down so I knew that I’d be considerably slower on the return trip to Leadville. Eric took the first shift pacing from Winfield and after a quick weight check and bottle hand off from Victoria, we were back on the dusty road on our way home.

The second climb up Hope Pass was grueling and horribly slow. My legs were weak and the heat was starting to beat down and drain my energy. But despite my feeble climb up the backside, it was nice to see all of our friends still working their way down. Stopping to say hello to everyone – Alan, Mike, Chris, Michael, Shad, Olan, Karla, Ning, Dan, Cat, Mark, and Allen (…if I forgot anyone, I blame low blood sugar and altitude for the memory loss) – was a nice excuse for a break to rest my legs. The altitude started to get to me at this point as well so I took a slightly longer break at the Hopeless Pass aid station to try to eat some crackers, drink some extra water, and stretch and rest my legs. The short rest paid off and Eric and I were able to pick up the pace on the long descent to make up some time.

At Twin Lakes since the 20 hour goal was out of consideration, I changed gears to try to make the most of the aid stations. I changed into fresh socks after the slog through the rivers and mud across the meadow and I took some extra time to try to drink and eat a little more before tackling the next 9 mile stretch to Half Moon. Eric and I power walked up the hill from Twin Lakes and then continued to walk/jog along the rolling Colorado Trail. This section tops out at about 10,500ft and I was definitely starting to feel the altitude again. I was feeling pretty lousy having trouble getting shot blocks or any other food down and was losing ground on my hydration. A couple miles from the Half Moon aid station, I puked for the first time. Not much came up so I really didn’t lose anything but it sure wasn’t fun and it just drained me of my energy. I spent some extra time at Half Moon and was able to re-fuel and recharge a bit to make the next easy section in to Fish Hatchery. I wasn’t moving very fast at this point but Eric and I got into a pretty good rhythm of jogging 15 minutes and then walking to drink and eat whatever I could.

If I only had to cover 7 easy miles between stops, finishing wouldn’t have been too difficult at our pace. But Fish Hatchery to May Queen was going to be a 10 mile grind up and over Sugar Loaf. And the reward for surviving this gruelling 10 miles after May Queen? An endless 13.5 mile stretch to the finish line without any more aid. After enduring 76.5 difficult miles at altitude, that’s a real kick in the balls. So I took my time eating and drinking at Fish Hatchery to prepare for the worst that was yet to come. Victoria took over pacing with fresh legs and plenty of energy to spare.

On the climb up Powerline, I hit my toughest point of the race. I was tired. I was barely keeping up with hydration and I barely had any calories in the last 20 miles. And worst of all, it was getting late and I was unable to get down any caffeine. I was beyond bonking – I was going cross eyed falling asleep on my feet. 4am starts really suck. Especially if you have to be up all night. And we were going up to 11,000ft again and I was getting sicker and feeling worse and worse every step we climbed. Partway up the climb, I took a break to lie down in the gravel on the road. You know you’re in rough shape when you think that cold gravel feels wonderful. I asked Victoria to give me 4-5minutes to close my eyes and it felt really good to rest for a minute. After the race, she admitted that she only gave me a minute and a half ….but it helped. A couple more times I had to stop and kneel down, put my head on the ground, and close my eyes to be able to get back up and see straight. The last time I stopped, my friend Caroline caught up with me while pacing her runner and encouraged me to get back up. Having another friend out there in the dark was a welcome sup rise and I was able to jog part of the way back down the hill towards May Queen with them.

At May Queen I was completely wrecked, tired, and ready to be done with this race. Eric and Victoria found me a seat outside the tent (there was no way in hell I was going near the heaters inside) and I was able to finally get some decent calories with half a turkey sandwich, two cups of tea, some coke, and water. I took as much time as I could at this stop since I wouldn’t have any other chance for aid until the finish. I was already over my 24 hour goal but as long as I didn’t fall on my face or break a leg, I could make it to the finish under 25 hours for the big belt buckle award.

The extra calories, water, and caffeine had me refreshed and moving again. For about 3 and a half miles Victoria and I managed to roll along the trails around Turquoise at a steady clip. We were still alternating walking and jogging but making decent time. Unfortunately when that wore off, I still had 10 more miles to go. *$@#! Our pace deteriorated into a shuffle/walk and since we were getting close to the finish, I thought I’d risk taking a caffeine pill to see if it would give me enough kick to make it. Nope. I spent another 5 minutes hugging a tree puking my guts out. My sandwich from May Queen didn’t come up so I was happy about that.

The route around Turquoise lake goes through a large campground and in the dark, it’s impossible to tell where the trail goes with camp sites and paths in all directions. Victoria and I were wandering around in circles looking for trail markers while letting loose an endless stream of profanity directed at Ken Chlouber for taking in nearly a quarter million in entry fees plus sponsorships and not bothering to shell out a couple bucks for a @#$ %&$ @!#$@ing glow stick for the campground. And by the way, this would make a perfectly good spot for a #$%^ing aid station. Just then a couple lights appeared on the trail behind us and it was Aaron Marks from Fort Collins pacing Charlie Cowan, who paced me at Vermont last month. Aaron had camped out at Turquoise lake for the weekend and new the way through the campground. So Victoria and I hitched a ride on their wagon for a few miles. Charlie was flying! He was moving a bit too fast for my ability at the time but it was a good mental boost to have a group of friends on the trail and I went with it as long as I could.

About 4.5 miles from the finish, the trail makes a steep drop for about a quarter mile down a rocky slope. For the last time, I was able to bounce down the hill without any trouble. My legs still felt good on the gnarly downhills. …Too bad this course is mostly flat. When I hit the bottom back onto a flat dirt road I realized I had dropped Victoria, Aaron, and Charlie behind. So I took the opportunity to stand still for a moment and try to get an S-Cap and some water down. Nope, bad idea. I spent about 10 minutes puking on the side of the road and that’s the last I saw of Aaron and Charlie until the finish. I swear this one came out of my eyeballs. This took the last bit of energy out of me and for the rest of the way to the finish, I didn’t eat or drink. The final 3 miles is a lonely dirt road that just seems to go on forever. I really wanted to just walk quietly in the dark to get to the finish in one piece but runners kept coming up behind me flashing lights back and forth like a disco. I’d cut my light off and stand aside to let them go to avoid getting dizzy from the lights. And of course, everyone would shine a light at me and ask if I was OK. I’d have to explain that I’d be OK as soon as they got the light out of my face and moved on up the road. Ugh!

In the final mile once we hit the pavement, I started jogging again. Other runners would shout out encouragement along the way. I just told Victoria that she needed to be nice to them and answer for me since I wasn’t going to say anything. I crossed the finish line in 24:36 and kept on walking straight to the medical weight check and found myself a cold quite spot on the lawn to sit down and recover. I didn’t need medical attention, didn’t have any injuries, and was done in under 25 hours for the big buckle. That’s good enough for me to cross this one off my list for good.

Personally, my run was terrible. A 9:20/15:16 split is pretty ugly. Many other runners who finished slower than I did had far better runs. As for the event, I really didn’t enjoy it. I won’t ever run this one again and I certainly wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. But the best part of this weekend was having so many friends out on the trail. I can’t thank Eric and Victoria enough for their support. I’ve been in worse shape physically but I hit a real mental low at this race and they both put up with it for the last 50 miles. It was great to see so many other friends out at every aid station. And it was great to share the trail with so many other close friends.

This video from Melissa Young does a good job showing the ups and downs of the race.

Leadville 100 Trail Run 2010 from Melissa Young on Vimeo.

Here are some photos from the weekend:

Leadville Trail 100 Run 2010

Our Leadville home away from home. Our Leadville home away from home.	Relaxing pre-race with a house full of Special Idiots. We lost track of how many people stayed here over the weekend. Relaxing pre-race with a house full of Special Idiots. We lost track of how many people stayed here over the weekend.
At the start with Chris, Dan, Mile, and Liz. At the start with Chris, Dan, Mile, and Liz.	The mad dash at the start. 3 miles of fast downhill to get ahead of the 700 runners who will cram their way through the narrow trail around Turquoise lake. The mad dash at the start. 3 miles of fast downhill to get ahead of the 700 runners who will cram their way through the narrow trail around Turquoise lake.
Daybreak climbing Sugarloaf between May Queen and Fish Hatchery. Daybreak climbing Sugarloaf between May Queen and Fish Hatchery.
Coming into Fish Hatchery behing Rod Bien. Coming into Fish Hatchery behing Rod Bien.	The view of Elbert, Massive, and the other mountains around the valley almost made this stretch of pavement tolerable. ….almost. The view of Elbert, Massive, and the other mountains around the valley almost made this stretch of pavement tolerable. ….almost.
Mt Massive Mt Massive	We’re going way down there over that ridge in the distance. We’re going way down there over that ridge in the distance.
A long stretch of dirt road after Half Moon aid station. A long stretch of dirt road after Half Moon aid station.
I puked here on the way back. I puked here on the way back.	Bombing down the hill into Twin Lakes. Bombing down the hill into Twin Lakes.
Victoria crewing at Twin Lakes. Victoria crewing at Twin Lakes.	Heading out across the meadown from Twin Lakes towards Hope Pass. Heading out across the meadown from Twin Lakes towards Hope Pass.
	Hope Pass on the way up outbound. Hope Pass on the way up outbound.
Hopeless Pass Aid station. These volunteers were incredible camping out here for the weekend. Hopeless Pass Aid station. These volunteers were incredible camping out here for the weekend.	Llamas packed in the aid station gear. Llamas packed in the aid station gear.
The view back down towards Twin Lakes. The view back down towards Twin Lakes.	At the top of Hope Pass. At the top of Hope Pass.
The long slow climb back up Hope Pass the second time. The poles really helped since my legs were shot. The long slow climb back up Hope Pass the second time. The poles really helped since my legs were shot.
At the top of Hope Pass for the last time. At the top of Hope Pass for the last time.	Cruising down a gorgeous stretch of trail on the way down to Twin Lakes inbound. Cruising down a gorgeous stretch of trail on the way down to Twin Lakes inbound.
Eric at the river crossing on the way to Twin Lakes. Eric at the river crossing on the way to Twin Lakes.	One of the many stream/puddle crossings on the way to Twin Lakes. One of the many stream/puddle crossings on the way to Twin Lakes.
Victoria crewing at Twin Lakes. Victoria crewing at Twin Lakes.	A short break, sock change, and some extra calories at Twin Lakes with extra help from Kristen and Steve. A short break, sock change, and some extra calories at Twin Lakes with extra help from Kristen and Steve.
On the Colorado Trail headed to Halfmoon inbound. On the Colorado Trail headed to Halfmoon inbound.
	Eric took a few really nice pictures just before sunset. Eric took a few really nice pictures just before sunset.
	Last light headed towards Fish Hatchery. Last light headed towards Fish Hatchery.
Fish Hatchery aid station inbound. Fish Hatchery aid station inbound.	Resting and refueling at Fish Hatchery. Victoria is ready to run …unfortunately she wouldn’t get much opportunity to run in the next 23.5 miles. Resting and refueling at Fish Hatchery. Victoria is ready to run …unfortunately she wouldn’t get much opportunity to run in the next 23.5 miles.
May Queen aid station. I’m actualy feeling much better now. May Queen aid station. I’m actualy feeling much better now.	Stick a fork in me …I’m done. Stick a fork in me …I’m done.