This is not a simple race report, but a story of how I got where I ended up. Be informed that this does contain personal information(which I am sharing with all), and it will take a while to read in its entirety. Please enjoy this journey through my mind, my race, and my life.
Leadville 100 “Race Across the Sky”
By Eric J Lee
THE ROAD TO LEADVILLE
The Leadville 100, is a 100mile ultra marathon
run in central
In the beginning of July I was watching a repeat of the 2006 Kona
Ironman when I learned that an old friend had passed
away. Mr. Jonny Blais,
whom I had worked with at REI in
OFF
TO LEADVILLE
July was not one of my better months,
though all I could do was push on and remember those who had struggled and
fought right up until the end. I spent the last two weeks before the race,
resting and working a lot in lab, just trying to keep my mind busy. The week
before the race the planning and logistics went into full swing. I had dinner
with my pacers and crew; going over the aid stations, pacing, and layout of
the race as a whole. Every aspect of the race was running through my head
the entire week, packing bags, writing up directions, planning every leg of
the race. I’ve never done anything where the logistics were so consuming,
even overwhelming. Thursday finally rolled around, and I was off to
We arrived in Leadville just after
I lay down
and shut my eyes, but my brain was going a mile a minute, I wish I could have
just started the race at that moment. I ran through the entire course in my
mind, thoughts of old friends and the events of the past months, apprehensions
on whether or not I was ready, worries about everything that could go wrong,
and so on. I glanced at my watch,
THE
RACE
401am, BOOM,
the gun explodes and the 580+ mass begins its trudge on down the road. Peter,
Tressa, and I jog off at a mellow pace, letting many others take off ahead. We chatted and jogged
through the night, Peter decided to lay off a little
more, so Tressa and I continued on. As we turned
down one of the dirt roads before reaching
OH
NO!
I was running way ahead of schedule,
but still thought Judy and Zubin would be able to
catch me at the next Aid Station. I ran the entire way to treeline,
as the road was mostly flat, and very easy to run. I jogged into the treeline crew point, glanced at my watch, 855am!! Oh shit,
I told them I’d be here around
The stretch from Halfmoon
to
It had been two weeks since I had last
climbed Hope Pass. The meadow was just as green, river just as full, and the
pass just as far. The river was cold, but felt great on my muscles, which
had been going for over 7 hours by this point. Then up up
and away, a 3500ft climb up to Hope Pass. As I climbed up, clouds began to
consolidate, but that wasn’t my first concern. My right knee had begun to
ache just left of the knee cap. I also had a strange pinch in one of my hip
flexor muscles, sending occasional pains down my quad. Every 15min I had to
stop to stretch and massage the two points. I was able to prevent any increase
in pain, but was concerned it may worsen. As I climbed toward the Hopeless
Pass Aid Station the clouds began to close in, and thunder boomed overhead.
The heavens began to open up, and the rain fell gently at first, then increased
to a steady shower. I hiked along side a number of others, including Chris
Labbe who I shared much suffering with during the next 8h.
As we neared the Hopeless Pass Aid Station 600ft below the pass, the sky began
to clear, the rain let up, and we were greeted by llamas and the hardy workers
of the Aid Station. A little warm soup, some pretzels and water did wonders,
as I was soon back on the trail to Hope Pass. The final bit went by quickly,
and I was staring into the expansive Sawatch Mts, with
I snapped a few pictures, and took
off downhill, oh was it great to be heading back down after 2:20 of climbing.
The trail was as steep and rocky as advertised, but still mostly runnable. I finally popped out on the Winfield road and was
greeted by lines of cars zipping to and from the town, kicking up dust and
many not seeming to notice the other runners as they sped by. The jog up to
Winfield seemed much harder than 2mi and 400ft should be, but I finally made
it just before 3pm. There I found my new crew waiting for me with fresh clothes,
food, and a friend(Clem) to share the rest of my pain. Sharlyn
saw the two of us off as we headed home, HOME. After 11h I had turned the
corner, and was on the return trip back to Leadville, how exciting it felt
until I realize that meant I still had 50 miles to go.
From
the get go I could tell having Clem along was going to be wonderful, he pushed
me just hard enough and was great company. I did my best to entertain as well,
singing Sesame Street songs and making lots of stupid comments. On the jog
back down the road I ran across Peter and Alan, both said they were doing
well, I told them to keep on plodding and I would see them at the finish line.
I was getting worried as I had not seen Tressa yet,
whom I had expected to be right behind me. Clem and I jogged down the road
back to the Sheep’s Gulch trailhead and the precipitous climb back to Hope
Pass. It hurt, not the worst pain I’ve ever felt, but it did hurt. On the
way up I came across Tressa and not far behind Mike.
It just wasn’t Tressa’s day, so after a hug she told me to push on and as
to not make her cry, I sadly obliged. Mike said his knees were shot and didn’t
know how much further he’d make it(he made it back to Twin Lakes, tough guy).
I had learned back at Winfield that Michael had dropped due to a pulled hammy,
already our group was dwindling. Clem pushed me up, as the thin air and fatigue
were definitely beginning to take hold. Still, we made decent time to the
pass, then came the sweet sweet downhill. My knees
were feeling better and it was good to get some more soup at the Hopeless
Pass Aid Station. While the downhill was sweet, the river crossing at the
bottom was even sweeter. My joints and muscles felt like new when I stood
for a minute in the cold rushing river. The cold water soothing all the aches
and pains away, I could have stood there forever.
WHERE THE RACE BEGINS
I had been told by several experienced
ultra runners that the race to Leadville didn’t actually start until mile
60. I did not truly understand what that meant until I cruised into Twin Lakes
with 40 miles to go. I could tell I was starting to tire and from here out
it was going to be a fight. Clem and I met Sharlyn
just before the Aid Station, threw on some new shoes, refueled and headed
for the climb to Halfmoon with headlamps and jackets
in tow. The climb wasn’t as steep as Hope Pass, but my body was struggling
just the same. Clem pushed me on, up through the aspens, through the pines,
and into the fading sunlight. As the sun slipped away, so did my energy, leading
me to my first low of the day. I crashed, and I crashed hard. It started with
an upset stomach, then moved into fatigue and shivers, finally culminating
in complete exhaustion. My mind began to wander, I had to put all my efforts
into focusing on each step, everything else became secondary. Through it all
Clem pushed me on, letting me take only short rests, forcing me to eat a little,
take in fluids and salt. I felt like I was tromping through a dream, hazy
and dark. Chris Labbe, whom had suffered a similar
fate heading up to Halfmoon, had recovered a little
sooner and passed us. He told me to hang on and fight through it, this was
the last time I was to see him(finished at 5am).
I started to feel a tiny bit better
as the trail leveled off, and Clem got me jogging a little again. I was still
hurting though, and definitely not the same person I was 3h before coming
down Hope. After reaching Halfmoon Rd around 930pm,
I sat down, had a salt cap and some water, and stretched my aching muscles.
All of a sudden it was like someone had flipped a switch in my head. My mind
woke back up, a little strength returned to my legs, and I proclaimed to Clem,
“I’m ready to jog, let’s go”. It was like the last 2h had never happened,
and I was back on the move. We cruised into Halfmoon,
grabbed some food and headed down to treeline where
Shar would be waiting for us. As we reached the crewing point
at treeline we were met by an endless line of cheering
crews, lanterns and headlamps bouncing all over, and cars decked out with
colored lights. For those of us who had been running for 18h+, it was a truly
inspiring sight. Finally we came across Sharlyn
who had some warm clothes, caffeine, and good news for both Clem and I, Judy
and Zubin were waiting to take over at Fish Hatchery.
Clem and I took off for Fish Hatchery, mixing a good dose of jogging into
our power walking.
This portion of the race follows the
roads all the way to Fish Hatchery, and Clem and I chatted as cars zipped
by us in all directions. When we finally arrived at the Fish Hatchery it was
almost midnight, and the area seemed deserted. Judy and Zubin
were hanging out awaiting our arrival. Both had a nice rest and were ready
to push me in the last 24 miles. After thanking Clem and Shar
for their wonderful aid, we parted ways, and it was Judy’s turn to be my slave
driver. I was still feeling good so we jogged up to the base of Sugarloaf,
the last big obstacle of the night. It was midnight and I had 10h to finish,
all I had to do was keep moving, simple enough, right? We pushed up Sugarloaf,
slowly but surely we made progress. About halfway up I began to regress back
into my delirious state. The shivers returned, my mind had trouble focusing,
and I was no longer talkative. Judy offered me her jacket, and I finally took
her up on the offer, donning her lovely baby blue windbreaker. Judy kept me
moving uphill, a hill that never seemed to end. Right, left, right, left….and
all of a sudden we had rounded the corner and were heading down the Hagerman
Pass Rd, when did this happen?? I didn’t question it for long, as I was excited
to be over the final major obstacle of the race.
THE
HOMESTRETCH
We jogged a little downhill, but by
this time the ligaments in the front of my left ankle had become quite sore,
and I was obliged to walk a bit more. The road was a nice change; smooth,
flat, and wide. Even though we were heading downhill I continually asked Judy
if the road was slightly sloped uphill, she assured me it was not, and it
was just my fatigued mind playing games with me. What cruel games they were.
The lower section of this stretch was really rocky, thus we weren’t able to
do much running(I was quite exhausted still). Even worse was the long traverse
the final portion of trail took for what seemed to be a mile AWAY from the
Aid Station. Follow the green lights, just follow the green lights, and finally
they led us down to the road, and Mayqueen. When
we left the trees it seemed as though the temperature immediately dropped
10 degrees. We arrived at Mayqueen around 350am to people bundled in blankets and huddled
around space heaters. We quickly jumped into the aid tent, where every runner
I had seen for the last hour(20+) was desperately trying to warm themselves.
Some were buried under sleeping bags, others clutching hot cups of soup or
coffee, while a handful simply plopped down in chairs for a rest. I sat down
to eat some potatoes and drink some water while Judy went in search of Zubin. A few minutes later Zubin
walked in with the needed extra clothes, so I return Judy’s jacket and bundle
up in all the clothes I could find. I put on 3 layers on top, tights, a wool
cap, and my fleece gloves. Maybe a little overkill, but it was chilly and
I knew it was going to be a slow walk around the Lake. On a side note, let
it be known that Zubin was an amazing trooper this
night. He had contracted some degree of food poisoning and puked 7 times between
Fish Hatchery and the finish line; never complaining, never frowning, simply
holding a smile and always being there.
We took off ahead of the crowd back
into the darkness. The middle of the night had passed and with the early morning
nearing my mental and physical state had revived, not to say I felt strong,
but awake. We took our time heading around the lake, jogging a little at first,
but in the end a quick walk/limp was the final pace. As the sun lit the morning
sky, hues of orange and red reflected of Turquoise Lake and the few clouds
in the sky. Except for a few runners passing by the trail was dead quiet.
This was by far the slowest 13.5 miles I’ve ever run/hiked. At 8am Judy and
I finally reached the turn that would take us up to Leadville, 500ft uphill,
what a cruel finish. The sun was shining and the temps had finally warmed
up. I hobbled uphill toward the finish, making good time. We finally turned
onto The Boulevard and soon enough the finish line banner came into view.
Even though the last 24 miles had taken almost 8h, it was so great to be finishing.
Finishing, wow how did this happen. 100 miles, lots of joy, lots of pain,
new friends from all over the country, wonderful people who gave up their
day to selflessly help runners they never knew, and 29h later I was about
to complete something few people in this country ever even attempt. A huge
crowd lined the streets, Terry and Tamara, Todd, Michael and Jessica, and
Zubin were all waiting at the finish line. I strolled
across the red carpet and under the finishing banner in a time of 28:55:57.
So ends this section of my journey.
I had run/walked for over a full day. While people were eating breakfast on
Saturday, I ran. While people ran their errands and went shopping, I ran.
While most of the world was eating dinner, I ran. While all the sane people
of the world slept soundly in their beds, I ran/walked. Finally, while many
people were waking up to eat yet another breakfast, I walked. I had run/walked
nearly 4 marathons in one trip, more miles than most people will run in a
month, hell more than many people run in an entire year. My body had felt
stronger than Hercules and weaker than a 100 year old man. My mind had gone
from sharp concentration, to uncontrollably wandering mush. Through it all,
I had survived, not without the aid of many friends and a strong will to just
keep moving, that’s all I had to do, was keep moving. I’ve heard others say
that you can’t truly know who you are until you’ve pushed yourself to the
brink, only to fight back with whatever strength remains. I am proud to have
finished, and this is not the end of my 2 year running career, but the beginning.
Whether it’s Western States, Hardrock, Rocky Raccoon,
the Grand Canyon R2R2R, or a local 50K, my racing days are just beginning.
Goodbye my friends, life is short, so explore every chance you get, try something
new, and just keep moving.
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown “(and maybe sunup)”, for going out, I found, was really going in”
-John Muir
