What a great race! Very well run, well marked, and a very challenging course. As noted in my previous post, I dropped from the 50 to the 25 a few weeks ago. At the time, I was glad that I did, but, in hindsight, I wish I had stuck tot he 50. That 2nd loop would have been pretty ugly, but I definitely had gas left in the tank and could have gone back for another round.

With that said, I took the 25 miles very easy. I barely ran any of the ups and didn’t push too hard on any of the downs, just cruising anything flat. I simply enjoyed being out – not goofing off, but not pushing it either. I went from being signed up for the 50, dropping to the 25 and shooting for a sub 5 hour, to almost not going at all, to just going out for a fun run. Work has been hectic, to put it mildly, and I hadn’t been able to train like I wanted to before the race so I was pretty scared I was going to just fall apart and limp in, but I was able to run hard into the finish and felt pretty good after the race with no soreness or too much fatigue in the following days. So, I guess in some regards I’m really happy with the race, but in others I’m a bit disappointed as I could have either run the 25 miles quite a bit harder, or stuck it out and slogged through another loop. It was another middle of the pack finish – I think around 60th out of 120… (5:38) so nothing great, but a nice day out on some amazing trails in great weather! And all systems seemed to be in working order. Stomach was great, thanks to Vi Fuel, energy was steady, muscles felt okay, etc… the only thing I know I really need to work on is my uphill running/hiking. If I can get that a bit more dialed in then I’ll be in good shape, and I’m hoping that this race helped!

Anyway, a fantastic race put on by the Gnar Runners! (click photos for larger version)

Anyway, I was planning on running the full 25 mile loop. All started off great, took it nice and easy up to the first climb of towers, then cruised down to horsetooth, and started feeling it on the 2nd climb up towers. I didn’t realize how far it was from horsetooth to towers… not terribly far, under 2 miles, but it was a surprise. I’ll know to expect it on race day. It was here that that storm moved in and the temps dropped quite a bit and it started snowing on me. I wasn’t quite dressed warm enough and wasn’t moving terribly fast at this point so got pretty cold and bailed out for the warmth of my car when I got back to Aurther’s TH. So I got in 20 miles in about 4:30… much better than my 22 miles in 7 hours last weekend, though this week wasn’t nearly as steep. Yesterday was about 3,600 feet and last week was about 7,100 feet.

I’m getting there, just a bit behind schedule and not sure if I’ll be able to pick up the training at all in the near future. Needless to say, I’m very glad I dropped to the 25 miler.. that will be a healthy enough day for me at my current fitness level. I’m hoping for a sub 5 hr finish, but that would need to be a pretty good day…

I know folks have been worrying about the 14 hour time limit for the 50, but that is totally doable. Especially if you have even remotely been training for the 50 miler. Taking it very easy, I would have finished the first lap in under 6 hours with no aid stations, carrying all of my water, and route finding, which would have left me 8 hours to get back. So as long as you can move, you should be able to make it back in 8…

This is an amazing course.. very beautiful over some challenging terrain in both Lory State Park and Horsetooth Mountain Open Space. I’m a little bummed I didn’t get to see the entire course yesterday, but that leaves some new terrain to take in on race day!

March 2, 2002 – November 4, 2011

Lovin' on the Brown Bear.

Just after Daisy passed away, I was under the illusion that I could write something that could do her justice on my silly little blog. I tried, through tears and over the past few motnhs, to accomplish this, but fell way short and scrapped all that I had written. I am a writer of fair skill, but to adequately convey how Daisy has impacted me and just what she means to me is far beyond my ability. It’s hard for me to comprehend it, let alone put it on paper. So what follows are just some of the feelings and experiences that lend to being ‘blogged.’ Those that know me and walked with me through the end of Daisy’s life may have a better understanding of who this ‘dog’ actually is and just how important she is to me.

We woke up early and Daisy needed out. She sat there on her front porch, the front porch of McGregor Mountain Lodge, and just stood there for 20 minutes, sniffing the air and watching what was a beautiful sunrise. I went back in the house to use the restroom, came back out and she was still standing there. Seeing me, she wanted back in, so in we went to the warmth of her bed in the living room, as the sun lit the last morning she would know on this earth.

Wow, these few days had been terrible, ever since I thought the time had come to let my Daisy go. I had scheduled our vet to come out to the lodge at 3:30 on Friday. Today was the day. I had cried for hours the day before and this morning I wasn’t faring any better. There was something so special about this little Angel, and anyone and everyone who met her can attest to this. I vividly remember fearing this day when I had her in my lap on the way home from Torrington, WY, where she was born – and born on a night that only half of her liter survived because of 30 below temps. She was so sweet and just slept on my lap almost the entire ride. All but for about 20 minutes at a rest stop to potty and play in the grass. The bond was literally instant. I can replay the exact events in my head on that day that I went to see her in rural WY. Seeing her run around, trying to escape her pen, and jumping up on her dad, Bear, trying to nip at him. I picked her up and she looked me right in the eyes. I knew. On the way home, I named her after one of my favorite alpine flowers, and I remember telling her “We are going to have so much fun!” And that we did!

Nice day for a swim!

I was like a proud parent. I’d call my mom from one of the Knotty Pine Rooms (8A), where I was living at the time, and tell her about the ‘rough night’ we’d had. Daisy crying in her crate, not sleeping. Well, I guess being a ‘responsible’ dog owner only lasted about 24 hours, as 20 minutes into Daisy’s second night, I caved, and she was in bed with me every night until Jamie came home as my Bride in 2009. Daisy understood and happily welcomed Jamie home by moving seamlessly to her bed on the floor. From that second night on, it was calls to mom saying ‘oh man, it was a rough night. Daisy peed on my pillow!’ Ha… it did take a while to get her fully potty trained. A few lessons in patience and gentleness later, and we were on track.

“…and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
-Tolkien

And of course all the firsts. First bark (she was on my chest in bed and got mad because I was watching tv instead of playing with her – big mistake!), first hike, first people food (McDonalds french fry). Then it was the first time she actually went for a swim. My mom and Kevin were here for it and we all cheered as she started her dog paddle into the deep of Lake Estes to get a stick. She was so happy and swimming became an almost weekly ritual for quite some time.

She was a quick study at the lodge as well. Her big brother (from a different litter), Trevor, taught her the ways of the lodge. How to knock on the doors, how to greet guests, how to chase the chippies, etc… it wasn’t long and Daisy was running the show as Trevor got into his lounging days. I can’t tell you how much our guests loved, and still love, the Brown Friend. She would get Christmas presents, birthday presents, and notes from children who simply missed her (Trevor got the same love as well). She would knock on the door of a cabin, come in and check the trash can, then move to her position on the floor as close to the guest as she could get, and take a nice nap. I had countless guests relay the same story to me… laughing about how she had knocked, about her bee line to the trash can, and how sweet the subsequent nap was. This was one loved pooch!

• Some animals leave a trail of glory behind them.
They give their spirit to the people and places where they have lived, and remain forever a part of the rocks and streams and the wind and sky. And, more importantly, remain forever a part of the hearts and souls of those fortunate enough to have loved them and to have been loved by  them. •

On an autumn day.

McGregor was her home, and she was the epitome of hospitality and actually taught me quite a bit about being kind to everyone who walked through those front doors. Sure, she’d growl at the occasional weirdo (she had that 6th sense that was a true, and quite accurate, judge of character) but she was always happy to greet the new guest and welcome the old one back as if a long lost friend.

One of my favorite things about her was how she looked at me. This may sound weird, but anyone who was close to me and spent any time around us knows what I’m talking about. She would walk into the room, sit in front of me and just look into my eyes. All she wanted was a look back from me… that’s it. I can still feel those eyes. I’d often just grab her, give her a big hug around her thick, strong neck, and a few kisses on the forehead before she got too whiney! And whiney she’d get if I took too long to give her some love! It was hilarious. She’s just stare and make these grunting noises until she got the love she needed and deserved!

I could go on and on for another 10 years reliving the memories from this special Angels life. But those are for me and my heart, as I’m sure that you have your own memories of her that you’ll hold close for years to come. I think what I miss most is just her presence. Knowing she’s laying at my feet. I miss that thick, curly, brown fur and I loved running my fingers through it. And I will never forget the way she smelled. She only got two baths in her entire life, and both were warranted after eating and rolling in bear crap. But usually, she smelled great… like the mountains, or outside. I love it and can still imagine her smell like she was laying in my lap. And if she ever did get a little ripe, all it took was a quick dip in the lake and she was as good as new.

There was something about this one. I still struggle with how God sees an animal such as Daisy (or any animal for that matter). I have no doubt that she has a soul, and that she had a conscience knowing right from wrong, good from evil, and was able to care about and for others (animals and humans). She was more real than many people I know, and I don’t say that lightly… at all. And I’m not taking the whole “no, seriously… my dog was awesome” route. Daisy goes beyond that. I really don’t know how to explain it other than saying that I know I will never encounter another animal like her, and that I truly wish more people had the strength of her character, and the capacity and nature of her heart, within them.

Daisy's birthday cookies!

And the sun set on this truly amazing life at 4:00 on Friday, November 4, followed by the most gentle, yet warmly beautiful sunset I’ve seen. There is not only a void in my heart (there really isn’t a void there at all, as I’ll never stop loving that angel) but there is a very tangible spiritual void as if part of me was removed. It may sound weird, but if feels like there is a hole, a white emptiness, on my left side about a foot out from my body. As far as my heart goes, it just hurts, but it’s still there, completely full. And as anyone who got to spend time with the Brown Bear knows, she gave enough love, and conjured enough love, to fill a heart for many many lifetimes.

This little article completely fails to capture even a shred of what Daisy means to me. And there is nothing that I could do, aside from remember and apply what she taught me, that could adequately express the impact she had on me. I have thousands of pictures, tons of video, and enough memories to tide me over until we meet again! And that will have to do.

Grief, you’re welcome to come in.
You’re a hard friend to have
But God I miss her
Just to kiss her once more
Another minute on that shore…
Come in, and bring memories
That tear me apart
The kind that dig deep in my heart and
Find more love than I knew I had for
My Brown Bear.
But it’s after the fact.
She’s gone.
Why wait until now
To let me see how much
I love her?
Unless there’s
More Daisy in store
Waiting at the final Door
In vigorous health, quivering with joy
Waiting, anticipating,
Ready to play and lay
Beside me once more.
That’s it, then.
Every tear that falls
Must be another fetched ball
Every sob in my throat
Another romp in the snow
Every desperate sigh
Another tie
That stronger binds us,
All this sorrow left behind us
For together without end.
So Grief, please, come in.

Written for me by my dear friend Derek Brooks

On the summit of Torreys Peak!

And a few more pics…

This first video is from about a week ago on a Hallett attempt. The wind was horrendous and the snow was deep, but I was hurting so was more than eager to turn back even below the summit of Flattop. It was a short, but fun day.

This next video is from yesterday and went much better. I felt quite a bit stronger, not anything close to what Im used to, and felt better as time went on, a good sign things have already turned around. I felt better after 5 hours than I did after 1. The day was much nicer, there was not nearly as much wind, and the trail was a packed highway of snow. We didn’t even use traction or floatation. It was my kind of winter day! Enjoy!

Mt Alice in all of her glory.

The trail starts out nice and gentle until you get to the Lion Lake cutoff, 5ish? mile in. I have been battling overall fatigue every since Leadville, and I think the 14ers weekend pushed me over the edge. Every one of my hikes/runs/whatever has been horrible since then. This would be no different… at first. Once on the Lion Lakes trail, I was spent. I was dizzy, exhausted, and just wanted to sleep. On a couple of occasions I even stopped to sit down for a while. It would help, but I would soon be feeling horrible again. So I just kept the intensity at a ridiculously low level and kept plodding away. After a while, we were stepping out into the valley that holds the Lion Lakes with Mt Alice and Chiefs Head Peak towering overhead. This is where the hike gets to be truly special. This is my favorite valley in the park. Lakes, waterfalls, mountains, and, in the summer, wildflowers as thick as you could imagine. And in the fall, the autumn colors added another piece of perfection to the puzzle. We plodded on up above the lake and came across a small flock of ptarmigan. They were so well camouflaged that it was 5 minutes before we noticed the 3rd bird literally inches away from the other two. Erik snapped some shots and we were heading up hill once again.

Fall on the tundra is just as spectacular, if not more, than the golden aspen at lower elevations.

Just above Lion Lake #1, we stopped to get some more water. This was a much needed break and it helped a ton. I felt much much better for the rest of the hike, thankfully. The next obstacle was to climb the ridge that takes you to the Alice/Chiefs Head saddle. This is a long ridge and offers absolutely stunning views. We made okay time heading up the ridge and made sure we stopped to soak it all in. Once on the saddle, we decided quickly not to climb Alice. For one, we were behind schedule because of my issues. Two, I was just pooped, and three, it was very icy and snowy and we were just in running shoes. So, on to Lake Powell.

The ridge you drop down to the lake isn’t terribly bad until you get down a few hundred feet. Then it’s very steep with large, loose rocks. So it was a bit time consuming. I think we all fell at least once. After what seemed like too long, we were down in the valley and headed to the tarn just below Powell, as the lake was partly in shadow making photography less than ideal. But this tarn was picture perfect. The setting is absolutely stunning and picturesque. It’s a place that probably doesn’t see more than a couple of people a year – the marmots, pika, and sheep were all very scared of us – a rarity in the park these days.

Derek enjoying the sunset.

We explored the immediate area, Erik took his pictures, Derek and I ate our dinner, and we all soaked in the majesty of this small, tucked away, corner of Rocky Mountain National Park. The light was fading and we used what was left to climb the steep ridge 1100 feet back up to the saddle. It was totally dark by then, so about 1/8th of the way down the ridge, Erik stopped to get some star shots over Mt. Alice. These are some of the coolest shots I’ve seen. One, just because their beautiful, and two, because of my affinity for Mt. Alice. After 20-30 minutes taking shots, we buzzed down to Lion Lake #1. Here, we stopped for some more star shots, and were soon full speed ahead back towards the trail head.

One of Eriks amazing star shots of Mt Alice.

It was a perfect fall day; the kind you dream of. Clear blue skies, warm temps down low, with cool temps above the trees, stunningly vibrant colors, and miles of trail in front of you on which to get to some of the most spectacular places this world has to offer!

You can follow Erik on Facebook for incredible RMNP photos! Click here!

Mt. Sherman (14,036) – Gemini Peak (13,951) – Dyer Mountain (13,855)

On Friday I woke up at 2:30 and hit the road to make the three hour drive down to Leadville. The first mountain of the day was Mt. Sherman, 14,036 feet. I planned to add a couple of other high 13ers and do a loop route around the Iowa Amphitheater at the head of Iowa Gulch. This included Gemini Peak (13,951), and Dyer Mountain (13,855). I made quick work of Sherman and was on the ridge as the sun lit up the high peaks. Sherman is a pretty uninteresting mountain, but the views are spectacular. I spent a few minutes on top and the made my way over to Gemini. This hill has a bit more character. The summit dome is small and steep. Makes for a cool summit “experience.” The wind was really ripping up there and it looked like some nasty weather may have been moving in, so I picked up the pace and made my way over to Dyer.

Fortunately, the weather held up just fine, but some light, wispy, clouds blew by all around me. I love being up on/near mountain summits and have clouds floating right by my face… so cool. I ran the ridge that led to Dyer and it was a blast. A sheer drop on my left, and nice rolling tundra to my right. This ridge went by pretty quick and I was soon on the summit of Dyer. Again, great views and dramatic clouds rolling by. A quick tundra/talus hop back down the ridge and I was soon back at my car and headed to La Plata.

La Plata Peak (14,336)

I took my time getting over to La Plata, stopped at a convenience store to get some goodies, and was hiking about an hour after leaving Iowa Gulch. La Plata has become one of my favorite mountains. The trail leading into the valley is beautiful, the mountain has tons of character and is in an amazing setting tucked deep in the Sawatch. But that sucker is steeeeeep! There is one spot in particular that is a series of about 24 switchbacks that climb straight up a very narrow gully. It was like the never ending zig zag. I was laughing out loud, yes, LOLing, as I was climbing when the switchbacks just kept coming. Once above, things flatten out a bit before another set of switchbacks that take you to the top of the NW ridge. The views of Ellingwood Ridge to the east are truly spectacular. That thing looks incredible. Two miles of sustained class 3+ at over 13,000 feet! You better have good weather!

From there it is a pretty straightforward, though steep, slog up to the summit. Though once you hit the ridge, there is still 1600+ feet of climbing, so it’s not as close as you may think. I kept my eye on the weather and was getting a little concerned as I could see some monster clouds forming far to the west. I knew it was just a matter of time. Things overhead and directly west looked fine, so I just kept watch and moved uphill. The higher I got, the worse the weather looked. But, again, things to the immediate west (the direction the weather was moving from) looked okay. There was a big black cloud to the south, but far enough away that I felt comfortable.  So up I went. The temp dropped dramatically and the wind really picked up as I neared the summit and I could see that storm growing. I just about turned back, but thought I could get back to the trees pretty quickly if I had to, and that route isn’t horribly exposed if you just get off that NW ridge. So up I went.

About 400 feet below the summit it started snowing on me! I guess it’s that time. While I dread the dead of winter, those first flakes of the season are always fun. It was a very very light snow, but definitely snow, so fun nonetheless. I picked up the pace just for the sake of keeping warm. I wasn’t quite dressed for snow with a long sleeve shirt, a raincoat, and shorts. About 200 feet below the summit I heard thunder from that storm to the south. I usually panic if I hear thunder, but this time I just stopped and really took a good look around. It was definitely coming from that storm to the south, now to the southeast as it was moving on pretty quickly. I figured it was moving away, so slowed my pace, letting it get further, and kept pressing on. I’m so glad I did. The weather once I got to the summit, a few minutes later, was about perfect. Things cleared up nicely and that storm was well on its way east. Perfect! And I had the summit to myself! And what a summit it is! The views are mind numbing. The Sawatch is a pretty special range. Big mountains in all directions – hundreds of them! I didn’t spend too long because I was getting a bit chilled. So I boogied on down, taking my time on the overly steep parts, and jogging the moderate sections. I truly fell in love with this mountain and hope to climb it by some other routes at some point.

I made it back to the trail head and went into Leadville for lunch. I then went out to Halfmoon Rd to catch a quick nap before Ben, Amanda, Eric, & Pete were supposed to roll into town.

Mt. Massive (14,421)

Everyone made it in safely and we hit the sack early. We had a 5:00 wake up call and we were at the North Halfmoon Creek Trail Head to kick Eric off on his first of 9 summits via the SW slopes on Mt Massive. I have wanted to climb Massive for a while as it kind of looms over Leadville and is just, well, massive. The trail started out pretty flat, maybe climbs 700 feet over the first mile and half, then turns NE and gets serious real quick. Another steep Sawatch summit. Eric was literally flying up the trail. Pete and I were a little more lethargic. I couldn’t believe how strong Eric was climbing. I know he is a strong runner/climber, but to see him in action for something he had been planning for – holy cow.

We just kept plugging away, and soon enough we turned onto the summit ridge. Eric was already coming down, having summited in 2:01. We bid him farewell after Pete worked out some logistics with him for later peaks, and as Eric blew down the mountain, Pete and I took our time getting to the summit. We made it in 2:30, so quite a bit behind Eric. And Eric said he hadn’t even felt the climb and was feeling perfect! Only 8 more summits, about 46 more miles, and 25,000 feet of climbing to go! Whew.

Pete and I hung out on the summit for a good 10 minutes before heading back down. Just below the summit, we came across a little family of Mountain Goats. It was pretty cool! There was a female with her baby, and a young male. They were pretty curious as to what we were doing, but soon moved on up the ridge. Neat to see them well above 14,000 feet!

We had a fairly uneventful hike/run back to the trail head, and were soon headed back down Halfmoon Rd. I dropped Pete off at our campsite and made a hasty retreat back to Estes to see my ladies I had missed terribly! It was a fantastic couple of days doing something I hadn’t done in a while. It was good to be back in the high Colorado mountains with no agenda/time goal/distance to cover and only summits to climb at any pace/style I chose!

Until next time…

Start to May Queen (13.5 miles)

Gun went off. I was cruising along and feeling great. My goal was just to finish the race, so I took it super easy. I didn’t worry about anyone else, just ran my race. I probably should have run harder into the single track as I got stuck in the slow as molasses pack. I actually walked about a third of the way around Turquoise. Walked the pace everyone around me was “running.” A bit annoying, but whatever… I passed a few people when it made sense but just settled in. I had to have under 2:30 for sure and come in around 2:18… about a minute slower than last year. Just fine. However, toward the end of this leg I was feeling a bit sluggish. No big deal.

My beautiful family with me at Twin Lakes

May Queen to Fish Hatchery (23.5 miles)

Bleh. Went okay. Still feeling a bit sluggish. Climbed ok. Took it easy down Powerline. Came into Fish in 4:40ish I think… about 10 minutes slower than last year. No prob. Still doing just fine and well with in a 26ish hour pace if I could maintain, which shouldn’t be an issue. Ha.

Fish to Half Pipe (30.5 miles)

After leaving Fish, I started feeling pretty good. I cruised down the road to the Halfmoon turnoff. Then was running 9ish pace totally comfortable and with no effort. I made myself walk every 5th telephone pole just to conserve a bit. Seemed to work. I ran/walked the pipeline cut and made decent time, passing quite a few runners along the way. It was a beautiful morning and I was actually enjoying my least favorite part of the course. Made it into Half Pipe at 6:20ish… made up about 10 minutes… good deal.

Half Pipe to Twin Lakes (39.5 miles)

Felt okay here for a while, then started feeling sluggish again. I knew that time wasn’t an issue here, so I just took it nice and easy. I slowed down quite  a bit wanting to push a little once I felt better. But it really didn’t help. I was just tired. Not fatigued, just sleepy. Like I could lie down and nap. I didn’t really enjoy my favorite part of the course as I was worrying about this prolonged and returning funk I was in. It ebbed and flowed for a while and I actually came out of it as I rolled into Twin Lakes getting pumped about Hope Pass… it saved me last year and I was looking forward to seeing it again! I think I got to Twin in 8:20ish… lost about 20 minutes, but no worries. I was still in great shape.

Eric and I at twin

Twin to Winfield (50 miles)

So, I was lifted up by my beautiful daughter blessing me with a beautiful smile when she saw me! Melted my heart and reminded me why I do this stuff! So off I was. Excited about Hope. I had to use the bathroom but didn’t want to go in those nasty port o pots, so figured I hit the woods when I started the climb. But it hit me early and I had to dive off in some willows to unload. Yikes. Diarrhea. No bueno. But I felt better for a bit afterwards. Until it hit again. Back into the woods. After this one I started feeling nauseous. I took a sip of water and hoped for the best. I never get nauseous during runs, so this was a new one for me. I figured it would go away, so just kept marching on. About 10 minutes later was when I threw up for the first time. Then I had to run off in the woods again. Onward and upward. More vomiting and diarrhea followed, but now it was dry heaves of bile and burning my throat.

I kept on pushing a hard as I could, but my energy was starting to fade as it had been over and hour and a half since I had had anything to eat or drink. But I kept pushing with my goal being to get to Hopeless, just below Hope Pass, a few thousand feet above, and recharge. That was a great goal and all, but I just couldn’t move fast at all. I was having to take breaks, not only to puke and crap in the bushes, but also because I was getting tunnel vision and felt like I was going to pass out on a couple of occasions. Most would say that this was due to altitude, but there is no way. I live at 8,000 feet, and routinely run at 12,000+ (often getting to well over 13,000 feet) with no issues other than shortness of breath due to thin air… but no other altitude issues.

On two occasions, the urge for my bowels to release was so strong that I had to hop right off the trail and relieve myself in full view of all the racers around me… humbling to say the least. To top it off, I had been out of t.p. since before the climb started and using what nature had provided within  arms reach radius wasn’t doing the trick. This was painful on a number of levels.

What in the heck was going on. If I had given my crew/pacer a list of issues that could pop up, this wouldn’t have even been on it. I kept slogging away. Taking pit stops as required and rest stops as needed. It was getting more often as my energy kept dropping. Every time I’d try a sip of water or a small amount of gel, it would come blowing out, along with more bile, seconds later. I just had no energy.

3.5 hours later, Hopeless aid was in sight. The previous year, it took me this long to go all the way to Winfield. I was way off track now. The only thing that could save me at this point was getting this stomach issue under control. I needed to stop and recharge. I went to the medics and told them what was going on. They sat me down and told me to sit still for 5 minutes. I started feeling much better when I stopped moving, but that just isn’t conducive to finishing a 100 mile run, so it felt pretty weird. After a few minutes, they brought me some soup to try. A potato/chicken/noodle/salty/goodness concoction. It was amazing! It tasted great and seemed to sit pretty well. I started feeling pretty good. I took in three cups and fetl great for a few minutes. But then it kind of regressed a bit and my stomach started hurting. I figured all the good was done and told the head doc up there that I was headed out. He urged me to stay as he wanted me to get an IV when I rolled in. But that’s a race ender… IV or oxygen sends you home for sure. I told him I was off, got up, walked about 50 yards and puked all that soup up. Damnit. He called me back over and it took a few minutes, but I convinced him to let me try to make the cutoff to Winfield, and I was off.

Nursing that soup while sitting still must have allowed some of it to be absorbed before vomiting. I actually had a little energy! It felt amazing! I was cruising down the trail and actually felt pretty good. I saw Alan near the top as he was inbound and he was looking as strong as I had ever seen him. I said hi, we quickly filled each other in on how things were going, and, mercifully, he gave me the rest of his toilet paper, as did Kristel – Alans pacer. That was nice and a huge relief next time I had to go, down in the trees… I boogied on down, running into Mike and Pete… they were doing okay too. Mike was struggling with some breathing issues, but toughing it out and moving pretty well. We said hi, wished each other luck and I was off. I couldn’t move too fast here though, as there were tons of people coming up the trail. So I did what I could and moved quickly when the trail was clear. I made it down to Winfield Rd. and had 26 minutes until the cut-off. It was 5:34 and I had until 6:00. So I had about 3 miles to go in just under 30 minutes, climbing 400 feet, 47 miles into the race, while not having had anything stay down at all for the past 6.5 hours. Holy crap. One guy said it best as I passed him at the trail head when he was just coming off the road… “You better run like you stole something!”

Well, that’s exactly what I did. I made it up the road in 22 minutes, dry heaving as I ran. I figured my chances of finishing at this point were pretty slim. I just couldn’t get this stomach thing under control. But I wasn’t going to throw in the towel if I had even a shred of a fools hope. I was going to go down with my guns blazing. I shot through the Winfield, picked up Eric and was heading down the road back to re-climb Hope Pass. I left Winfield at 13:56 into the race, over two hours slower than last year, and 3.5 hours slower than my Silver Rush time of this year!

Winfield to… (56 miles)

I didn’t know off hand what the cutoff was for getting back to twin, but I thought if I could climb with any speed at all, I had a shot. That is until I asked Eric when the cutoff was. At that point it was about 6:05 and Eric told me the cutoff was 9:45… so we had 3:40 to get back. Wow. I shouldn’t have asked. It took me over 5:30 to get across with how bad I was feeling. For all of my Rocky Mountain National Park enthusiast followers, I had to climb Hallet Peak, round trip, in 3:40 to make the cutoff. If I was fresh, no problem. If I was feeling good, even 50 miles into Leadville, sure… totally possible. But today, it was going to take a miracle. I told Eric I was going to try, so I took off down the road at about 9:00 pace. But coming down chasing that Winfield cutoff had taken it out of me. Eric could tell as well and had be dial it down a touch… we settled in at 10:00 pace with a couple of walk breaks to regain a little composure. We got to the trail head that signals the start of the horribly brutal climb back up hope. About a minute into the climb and I hit my wall. Bam. It was like some 500 lb sweaty pig man had a hold of my ankles trying to pull me down the mountain. If only my good friend Trey Kopecky was there in his spandex body suit to wrestle the hog boy off my ankles. But that wasn’t the case. And I was hurting. I was able to make the small amount of energy from the soup I managed to absorb last for about that long, and when it was gone, it was gone. I could tell my sugars were off too. I was starting to get faint, light headed, dizzy etc. I was still dry heaving, though not as violently. And Eric did have me force some salty chips down, which tasted fantastic, and managed to stay down, though made things a little turbulent. I was doing all I could.

I had to sit down a couple of times on the lower slopes to make sure I didn’t fall over from being faint. A couple of times I had to lie down in fear I was going to pass out. But I kept getting up and pushing forward. I did not want to turn back. I knew I was going to miss the cutoff at this point, shared some tears with Eric about it, and made my goal to simply get to Twin Lakes and have the pull me from the course. So on I went. Slowly. Ever so slowly. More sit breaks. More dry heaves. Increasing dizzy spells, and now a good sized headache. I had not had a substantial drink in almost 7 hours. No food, other than about 4 chips, in that amount of time either – except for the soup that soaked in before I threw it up, I guess. I was in bad shape.

We passed the medical sweep coming down the mountain and they seemed pretty concerned about me. Taking note of my number and calling something in over their radios. They asked if I was okay and we told them I was fine and pushed it beyond their earshot as I was afraid they were going to make me turn back. Well, only about another 200 yards up the trail my headache intensified and I got very faint. I sat down and closed my eyes. When I opened them I could barely focus on anything… the aspen trunks, leaves, etc… all were mangled, blurry and I couldn’t tell what trees were closer to me than others. I laid down as it started to sprinkle a little bit. Looking up into the fading light through the aspen leaves is when I knew it was over. I needed to turn back, have the medic stay with me as we walked back down. I had a good chat with Eric about it. Eric is a great man. A very talented ultra runner, very honest, and one of the most positive people I know. Along with his boundless energy. I knew he’d let me make my own decision, but shoot me straight too. At this point he agreed we should turn back.

My 2011 Leadville 100 experience was over. Eric ran ahead, got the medic and they were both soon with me helping me out. It was amazing the difference. When I let go of the race, and the will and and the drive pushing me forward was gone, I realized just how bad of shape I was in. I noticed the medic keeping his eyes locked on mine as much as he could. He was inches away from me the entire time and every time I’d stumble (I couldn’t focus on the terrain of the trail) his hands were on me instantly. This is not what I had envisioned when I drove into Leadville a couple of days before.

We made it back to Winfield Rd in the dark and hitched a ride back with a girl who had sprained her knee, and her sister. They took us to Twin Lakes where my dad and Shanea were waiting for me. How bitter sweet. It was good to see them, but I was hoping to see them as I running through the aid station on my way to my first Leadville finish.

So, there is my excuse. That’s my Leadville story for the year. A serving of humble pie and another lesson to be learned (except I still dont know what this lesson is). Now, three days out, I’m still having diarrhea and am pretty convinced I was getting some stomach bug as I was going into Leadville. I dont normally pay too much attention to that stuff, but Jamie remembered some abnormal things about me in the weeks before the race. I was overly tired, stopped up, lethargic, etc… And to still be sick (diarrhea, nausea after I eat, etc…) I’m guessing it was some sort of bug. Just bad timing.

What would I have done different. Well, nothing. Maybe I would have stopped to drink more at Mt Elbert water drop… I think I may have been a little behind on water. But I’ve been dehydrated before and never had anything like this happen. So it most likely wouldn’t have mattered.  But, other than that small thing, I would have done everything else the same… training, prep, nutrition, etc… all fine. This one stumps me.

What did I get out of this race? I am VERY proud of my effort to beat the Winfield cutoff. Honestly, I didn’t think I had it in me. That would have been fast for me if I was totally fresh and totally healthy. For me, that was super human and I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. I was on another plain. It took everything out of me, but I did it. The looks I was getting from crews and other runners and pacers were pretty amusing as well… I had people cheering for me, clapping, yelling, saying “wow,” and I heard a “Holy shit, look at that guy!” It must have been quite the sight seeing some pale (and flushed from being so dehydrated), gaunt (I was probably 12 lbs underweight), dude hauling ass up Winfield Rd minutes in ahead of the cutoff dry heaving as he ran. It was the most intense moment of my running life. Yeah, it hurt horribly, but I’ll take that experience (and any other like it) over being comfy any day. You have to be truly alive to experience something like that!

Now to the good stuff. My good friend Alan Smith finished his 3rd Leadville in 27:06 and change. I have seen a complete 180 in his racing over the past year. After an incredible 2009 (where he finished leadville in 23:20ish) he had a string of DNF’s that seemed to be nothing more than mental failures. He became aware that something needed to change and had gained complete control over this aspect of his racing. He went and performed very well at the Bighorn 100 in June, and did the same at Leadville this past weekend. He was on pace for another 24ish hour finish (about 3 minutes behind David Clark on top of Hope Pass in bound), but ran into some trouble after Fish. Where maybe a year ago he would have bailed, he settled in, pushed through and knocked it out for a great finish and his 3rd buckle! I am incredibly proud of him and super impressed with how he addressed that mental hurdle and has gotten rid of it. He loves this sport with all his heart and it shows with every step he takes on the trail.

With Alan’s impressive run being one thing, a new friend of mine, whom I met this weekend, put up a run that will probably never be topped as the most inspirational thing Ive ever seen. Von Cousin came in at 30:28:16. No buckle, not an official finisher. But he ran 100 miles and completed the leadville 100. The house we rented was on 6th at the very top of the hill. I watched all morning as runners came by. I knew Von was out there as two of my good friends were pacing him during the race. He hadn’t come by when the final gun went off. I finally saw Kari and him coming up the road. I ran over to meet them, gave them both hugs and said to Von, “Don’t be too disappointed.” He simply smiled, shook his head, and said, “I’m not at all!” He could barely talk, was in intense pain on more places than one could imagine, and had been totally spent for quite some time. I’ll post a link to his race report when he gets it up, as he’ll explain his race, the reasons for running, and the palpable Angels that lifted him through this race. Bottom line is that I am honored to have met this amazing human being. Ultra running continues to deepen for me and I’m literally shocked by just what it reveals.

God is good.

From below Jim's Grove

A friend of mine, Andrew, is a guide with CMS and detests Longs Peak! I love hearing him talk about it. I guess if I had to drag people up there twice a week all year, it may lose it’s charm. But he called it the “Slag Heap” or something to that effect when I saw him in the store the other day… made me laugh! So Slag Heap it is.

Just below the boulder field

And the Blow Hole (the name I have for the key hole) lived up to its name as well. The wind was ripping through there. So much so that people were turning around because of it… they thought that it was going to be that way the entire way up! I urged a couple of people on saying, from experience, that 20 yards out on the ledges and the wind would completely stop. And, yes, that was the case. It was windy again once you topped out on the narrows below the homestretch. That’s where the wind blew Alan and my eye lids off our eye balls on my one and only winter ascent. So, it can be windy there for sure! But above that, and on the summit, it was perfect!

Nearing the blow hole

My only complaint of the day was the obscene number of people up there, that, quite frankly, had no business being up there without a more experienced person (or a guide – if they really had their heart set on getting up there). I am not one to discourage anyone from pushing their limits, or getting out in to the hills, but some of the people up there were scary. For example. There was a guy that I passed below the Boulderfield that had started at 2:00 am. I summited and came down to find him just beyond the blow hole.  He was going to the summit! I would guess this would be a 24 hour “hike” for him. At this pace, it is ridiculously dangerous to be on that kind of terrain. And he was alone. I have taken people up that have taken a little while to get the hike done. Fine. I understand that I am probably in better shape than most, but there is a point, especially doing this alone, that you need to do one of two things. 1. appreciate the grandeur of the mountain at a distance. Hike up to Chasm junction. Great views there. 2. Work to get in better shape to you can do this climb safely. Luckily there were no threatening storms on this day or he would have been if for one heck of an outing.

At the blow hole

In addition, there were too many people being careless in the tough. I went over to climbers left and scrambled up the 3rd class slabs. I bet, one group in particular, sent 10 fist sized rocks down toward the people below. One missing a womans face by mere inches. That mountain must be blessed, because I am shocked that t here are not more serious injuries up there. I was afraid I was going to witness something horrid a few times in the trough alone.

Lovely ledges

Anyway. I think I’ll take the north face next time. Come down via blow hole.

On a positive note, I set a PR on the mountain yesterday! I have never tried to do it fast, so I don’t know what I could actually do, but before yesterday my fastest time was 5:33 when Alan and I did it last year or the year before. I didn’t even have it on my radar until I was back at the blow hole. I figured it would be tight, but I wasn’t going to push hard to get it. My priority was to take it easy and acclimatize for the race. So I took it easy on the way down, taking a couple of shortcuts to avoid humans, and by t he time I was in the trees I thought I might have a chance. So I jogged it in, pushing it a little the last half mile to come in at 5:20:27 with a moving time of 4:16:16 (which doesn’t matter – but shows that I spent just over an hour taking pictures, sitting on the summit, slacking off, etc..). So I took over 10 minutes off my PR on a leisurely day! That makes me feel pretty good going into the race. And my butt muscles behaved beautifully yesterday, on every foot of the 5,500ish feet of climbing!

The dreaded trough

All in all a great day out! Longs will always make you tired, but I feel great now and I think it did me good to get up high and stretch the legs. Regardless of the crowds, the “slag heap” status some give this mountain, it’s one I’ll climb again and again… a great mountain in my favorite section of the Rockies! 10 days and counting! I’m already having dreams about the race!

The Narrows really aren't that narrow

Homestretch and the spraypainted vandalism the NPS thinks is necessary.

Elevation Profile - click to make bigger

First of all, trying to think of a way to put this in to words is a bit intimidating. There are just so many levels on which this resonates and it’s difficult to even organize it in my head. One of the most surface reasons is simply being out in some of the most scenic landscapes in the world. Plain and simple. The mountains (and desert) are also some of the most demanding, which adds another element to this small bit of attraction. I think we, as humans, to some degree are drawn to  that which we recognize as above us, or beyond us. We see the high mountains and our minds instantly shift to thoughts of wonder, exploration, or simple admiration. The same thing happens when we look out at a seemingly endless ocean, or a vast desert. The scale of these landscapes are captivating. It captures the essence of the human spirit. Entire lives have been devoted to wondering into the unknown for no other reason than to see what’s there.

After my first Ultra Distance Run

The mountains are the epitome of this for me. To look up a long valley to the summits above and wondering what lies beyond is enough to make my legs itch, to make my heart beat harder, to awaken my senses. I desire a more intimate involvement in these kinds of demanding landscapes. I started taking hold of this by simply walking off into the mountains here in Rocky Mountain National Park. I wanted to be able to go further in a day, so began running to get in better shape just a few years ago. It got me to a point where I was covering more ground in a day than I ever thought possible. 20 miles in the mountains, a few years ago, might as well have been a thousand. It was that overwhelming. But over time, as I kept pushing my own limits, and running a little more here and there, I was able to push it further, see more in a day and enjoy it so much more. Instead of going over to Grand Lake (18 miles) and then having to worry about a ride back, I was able to go over and back in a day. Perfect! Exactly what I was after. There is just something about moving through these stunning and demanding landscapes quickly and efficiently. It is empowering and opens up so many opportunities to go to some amazing places and see some spectacular things.

Bloody nose during my first official Ultra race - Greenland 50k

While just getting out there is reason enough for me, there is definitely more to it, but any other reasons are a bit harder to fully explain. One of my friends put it perfectly. “Out there, we can do anything!” That is overly simplified, but also very true. I don’t know about you, but in my daily life, it feels like there are so many limiting factors  that impede (or try to impede) where you are trying to go… life, spirituality, work, etc… There are so many “currents” working against you. When you start a 100, or even 50, mile race, you have yourself and the terrain. That’s it. It’s in your hands. The only challenges are self imposed – toeing the line. You know it’s going to be hard, but you don’t have anything working “against” you. What’s there is there. The miles, the climbs, the technical terrain, the night, the cold, the rain, etc… it is what it is and it’s in YOUR hands as to how these factors will be handled. The beautiful thing is that this is the exact same for the elite athletes as it is for the first to DNF and those who come in with only seconds to spare. I love the fact that at Rocky Raccoon this year, some of the elites (Jurek, Krupicka, Koerner) offered encouraging words as they lapped me. They were in the middle of it, as was I , and there is just a mutual understanding. We are tying to do the unbelievable, whether it’s a life long elite, or a slow relatively new runner, like myself. And we’re all battling, primarily, ourselves. We can do what we want. The choice is ours.

My Good friend Steve at Silver Rush 50 - 2010

My relationship with God also plays a huge role in why I enjoy doing these long runs. There are more similarities with walking with God and ultra running than one could imagine. Many people don’t see it. Many are very well aware. It’s one of the things that fuels me – learning more about God and how he works in relation to us, as humans. I have a paper I’m working on regarding this that I hope to post at a later date – more in regards to running and prayer. But it will explain a lot of my feelings on the subject. There are two fronts that this happens on as well. The duration of one long outing can be quite revealing. And as my running years add up (all 5 of them!), the progression over time, run after run after run, has many parallels and can provide a lot of insight into God’s “heart,” as well as my own. I find it truly amazing as to how little I pray or think about God while I’m running, but how well and often he communicates during my runs, be it 30 minutes or 30 hours. It may be my favorite part of the bigger running picture, for sure.

Another day on around Lumpy Ridge

The intangible aspects of this sport is also a huge reason I love it so much. This is the part that is impossible to understand. You just have to do it. Go for a 50 mile run through the Grand Canyon and you’ll understand. Cross a 100 mile finish line and you’ll get it. Toe the line at a 50 miler and it will make sense.  The highs and the lows. The salt burning your eyes. The sore feet. The stomach that can’t handle anything else. And being able to run hard after 50 miles. Then another “low.” One step at a time. One stride at a time. You can zone into your breathing, your cadence, the trail 8 feet in front of you and just be there. Be in that amazing spot just below the summit of Hope Pass. It hurts so good. Start that last lap, mile 80 – 100 at Rocky barely being able to walk and knowing you’re going to finish your first 100 mile “run.” Enjoy a mountain downpour on a hot July day at 12,000 feet 30 miles into a 50 mile run. All of these things are simply the indicators of something much larger that cannot be explained. “I guess you had to be there.”

I am so inspired by my friends in this sport. Facebook has an option in your profile where you can pick your favorite athletes. Most people have names like Derek Jeter, or LeBron James, or Tony Romo in there. Mine would have names like Alan Smith, Eric Lee, Mike Poland, Chris Gerber, Misti Hurricane, Pete Stevenson, Ning Cabiles, etc… These people actually inspire me to be a better person, runner, friend, and so on. The things that I have seen some of these people do are so much more impressive than anything anyone in the NFL, NBA, whatever, have every done. Now I’m a sucker for football… truly love to watch it and will love my Aggies until I die. But I will have more fun following Pete and Eric on the live progress/results at Western States, or following Gerber and Pete at Hardrock, than I ever will watching my beloved Aggies play anyone in any game. I am truly inspired by these people. To see Gerber get so damn strong over the past few years. To see Alan go from not being able to hike 10 miles without almost literally dying, to putting up a sub 23:30ish hour Leadville finish. To see Pete’s unmatched toughness that can get him through anything imaginable. These people help me when I can barely walk and still need to cover 20 miles before my day is done. These people are the ones that make a lot of the hard days worth it. They put a lot of the challenges we face in perspective. They give me hope! Running, and more specifically ultrarunning, has given me some great friendships and this is a pretty special thing. I have suffered many miles with some great people and I wouldn’t trade any of those painful miles for anything in the world. In addition, I hope that I provide inspiration for someone as well. I know that on some level that is the case. There are a few people that do feel inspired by the stuff that I love to do. And it is a pretty good feeling, because I’m not particularly good at ultra running, I just do it and I think people can relate to that. I know a couple of people who have either started running, or started ultra running because of my influence and that’s pretty cool to me! I feel like it’s something that I can give them that has some immense worth. It’s exciting to me as well, knowing the journey they are about to start. What an amazing thing!

With Jamie just after my first 100 mile finish. Rocky Raccoon 2011

Another reason, though it is one of the lesser ones, it to simply progress physically in my abilities. Yes, I would love to be one of the super fast guys. It would be incredible to run hardrock and smash the course record! That’s just not going to happen. Period. But I can become a stronger runner. A better racer. A faster athlete. These are things I AM interested in. It is a very important aspect, but it is not one of the driving forces behind the answer as to why I do this. I could be in the minority here, as I’m sure this is more of a driving factor for a lot of people, but it just takes something away from the big picture when this is a major focus for me. I have had my best running year this past year and it was after taking about a year off and coming back with a more relaxed and more of a “just have fun” attitude. I’m stronger, faster, and can go farther. Go figure.

A lot of people don’t even try to understand why in the world anyone would want to set off for a long run in the mountains (or anywhere for that matter).  Josh Fuller said (I think it was on the Hardrock 100 list serve) “For those who ask why we do it, they clearly are not yet ready to understand. It is magical and completely unable to be put in words.”

I understand that it probably requires a “different” kind of mind/personality/whatever to be attracted to something like this, but there’s this part of me that thinks everyone and anyone would benefit, in more ways that I could name, from training for an ultra. Or hell, even a half marathon. Anything that will enable you to travel through these demanding and stunning landscapes where many things that have been lost can be found!

Family photo at Dream Lake

So we took off. Up to Nymph Lake with my girl in the Bjorn. She loves being outside and just hung out on me and napped as my hiking cadence lulled her to sleep, the breeze blowing over her toes and and cool mountain air on her face. We stopped to take a few pictures, took a few breaks to soak in the views and simply enjoyed being out. On the way to Dream, mom turned around as she was having trouble with the altitude this year (for the first time ever! She rocked Mt Elbert last year and could barely catch her breath sitting on the couch this year… you just never know.).

At Dream, Jamie went on back to the trail head with the Laney Bug to feed her while Angela and I cruised up to Emerald Lake. It was a beautiful day in the park and Laney loved being out there! I absolutely cannot wait for more days out in the hills with my sweet little family!

Angela being awesome!

Hoppy & Laney after the hike!