The Leadville Trail Marathon was quite possibly the greatest physical challenge that I have had the pleasure to endure. The course itself was great, and all things considered the race shouldn’t have been that difficult, but it seemed the universe conspired against me and everything that could go wonky did go wonky.
I got to Leadville, or more specifically the neighboring town of Frisco, two days before the race in a desperate attempt to acclimate. In Seattle, where I trained for the race, my GPS sometimes read below sea-level so almost needless to say the altitude bug bit me hard. Simply walking up the five flights of stairs to my hotel room required concerted effort; this did not bode well for the race.
The night before the race I wanted to get some carbs in me, and what is better than Italian food for carbo-loading? My family and I went to Tuscato Ristorante Italiano on main street in Frisco. I mention this restaurant by name, and very explicitly, because not only was their food awful but immediately after dinner every single person in my family had serious digestive issues. While I doubt it was food poisoning in the strictest sense, they must of used something vile in their sauce because I was physically in pain.
I hoped my digestive issues would pass by 4:00 AM when I woke to get ready for the race, but alas they did not. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything because something gnarly was happening inside me. I knew I needed to eat but my body just said NO! with emphasis on the exclamation point. My buddy Zach drove me and my brother-in-law Grant to Leadville from Frisco, and all I could think about was my gut. I started pounding Pepto because the thought of running while feeling like this scared me.
The race started with 100s of people milling around the starting line. In good form the race was started with the blast of a shotgun. Very quickly I got left behind by Zach and Grant. Not only are they in better shape than me but also they live in Denver which gives them a 6,000 foot acclimation advantage. About a mile in to the course the half-marathoners broke away from the marathoners as we transitioned from dirt roads to trail. At this point I had been so consumed by my digestive issues that I didn’t notice my asthma acting up. I had been fighting a cold for two weeks and when I have a cold my asthma can be problematic. I thought I had kicked the cold but apparently not.
At this point I think you can imagine why the Leadville Trail Marathon was the greatest physical challenge I have had the pleasure to endure. Luckily despite my body revolting I did enjoy the breathtaking scenery. Running through the forest was ho-hum, but once we got above tree-line the mountain views were simply amazing.
The crux of the run was supposed to be the 2,000 foot climb to the high point of the race at over 13,000 feet. I say supposed to be the crux because I fell into a steady hiking pace and marched my way up. It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t agony inducing.
All things considered I was feeling pretty good when I got to the top of Mosquito Pass. Before the race I had been worried about calf cramps so I bought some Zensah sleeves. Maybe they worked or maybe it was a placebo effect but my calves felt strong even with all the climbing. After a brief pause at the top of Mosquito Pass I started the long run down, and like a fool I ran down the mountain. I made the same mistake of running too fast down a long hill at the Yakima Skyline Rim 50K. I felt great all the way down, and I was passing people left and right. I had hauled my 200 pounds of body weight up that mountain, and by golly I was going let gravity do its thing all the way down. This bit of gravity assisted fun took its toll. Once the course flattened out the lactic acid caught up and in the words of George Oscar Bluth, Jr (G.O.B.) I realized “I’ve made a huge mistake.”
With the supposed crux of the race behind me I thought the last 9 miles would be easy. A few rolling hills, a jog around a mountain, and then a 3 mile downhill to the finish line. I thought wrong. The last 9 miles was my personal crux. I only have myself to blame because I had hardly ate or drank anything since the start. Yes, I had been sipping some Roctane and slurping some GUs but because of my digestive issues, the altitude, and my asthmatic breathing I could not force enough nutrition down my gullet. The wheels fell off the wagon and I sunk into a death march of epic proportions.
I’ll spare you the details of the last 9 miles except to say that there was a lot of walking and cursing the mountain gods for making these “hills” so long.
The last leg of the race follows a long stretch of road through town. Despite being able to see the finish line, hear the music pumping, and practically taste the beer, I could not will myself to pick up the pace and finish strong. My overall performance was sad. I finished in a little over 7 hours, but damnit I did finish. Despite my objective failure at running a good race the announcer made me feel like I truly accomplished something; that simply surviving was an achievement.
I am sitting here writing this trip report after drinking some coffee from my finisher’s mug. I have noticed that I reach for that mug a lot. I don’t particularly like the shape of the mug, or the feel of the handle, but I still reach for it because damn I am proud of it. While the Leadville Trail Marathon was the most physically challenging event I have undertaken I can’t wait to do it again next year.