Leadville Trail 100 - Second 50 miles

August 21-22, 2010
100 miles
50 left to go!
Winfield to Leadville
Chris and I head down the dirt and gravel road that I just ran walked up leaving Winfield and my pit crew.  He is carrying all our water and all my fuel for me.  I feel wonderful not having my pockets loaded with stuff; not having my camelback on anymore.  Chris has paced 15 other runners at Leadville and he told me before the race not one runners who made it to Winfield on their own failed to finish Leadville with him pacing.  Now you know why I wanted him to get me over Hope Pass.  Little did I know though that he injured his toe just days before the race.  So much so, that he had to slice his running shoe open on top in order to keep the pain at bay.  Never said one word the entire day about it until we had crested Hope and were heading down.

On the road I explain to Chris how I am having difficulty running down hill.  So we run/walk it down to the best of my ability.  The going is a lot slower than either of us anticipated; but we finally see the turn off the road and up the side of the mountain.  Once we hit the trail on the left, the steep up hill section into the trees is staring down at me and I take a deep breath as I stare up it.  Chris tells me to take the lead and with that, we begin the climb up Hope Pass.

Behind me, Chris keeps up a great thread of advice, tells me when to drink, looks ahead of me and warns me of runners coming down the trail.  Now, it is my turn to trudge up and over Hope with other runners moving to the side.  Once we make it through the treeline, Chris and I see the switchbacks and he tells me, "piece of cake."  Okay Chris, if you say so.  I'm not as confident as he is; but he keeps telling me I'm doing great.  It is during this stretch on the exposed switchbacks that we see a runner flat on his back almost in the middle of the trail.  He has stopped on his way up to Hope Pass and is in visible distress.  We ask if we can offer assistance.  His pacer is there and tells us his brother has already DNF'd; but this runner thinks he can continue.  We all shake our heads and Chris says he'll relay the information to the aid station volunteers at the top and give them a heads up on the runner's status.

We continue on past and as we near the top, Chris says I need to stop and place my foot on the marker.  I'm tired, a little out of it; but I do as told as the wind hits me full in the face.  Once again the yellow jacket comes on.  I put my foot on the marker at the top of Hope Pass, look down and smile.  Chris smiles - we've summited Hope Pass, a feat I am proud to that I've done twice today!  With that, we head down to Hopeless aid station.

Warm potato soup, a refill of water bottles and we are out of there just as quickly as we came.  Chris wants me to run the downhill.  He runs with me all the time and he knows how well I do it.  I try two times to begin and make it into a painful shuffle.  Something Chris doesn't like at all and tells me to powerhike since I'm faster that way.  When the pain subsides, I try again; but I do not get too far before I once again have to stop.  I'm not worn out; just in a world of hurt and this upsets me.  Chris does a great job telling me that I can walk all the way back if I have to and I believe him and feel better.

We hit the meadow as the light fades from the sky and Chris pushes me through it.  His goal was to make it to Twin Lakes before dark.  Unfortunately this is not going to happen and as I apologize to him I ask him if I can have a flashlight since I can't see the trail anymore.  This puts all things in perspective and we continue through the meadow in better spirits as he turns on the flashlight for us.

As we near the town of Twin Lakes, Chris yells out in the darkness for Jess and she responds.  Yes!  I've made it through the meadow, through the five water crossings again and now I can change my wet shoes for dry ones!

As I cross the road and head into Twin Lakes, I see Zach, one of our USAFA cadets and greet him with a great big smile!  Wow!  He drove up to Leadville to cheer me as well as a friend of his (a USAFA cadet who finished!) with some other cadets!  I motor into the aid station telling Rick I need first aid to take care of my heels before anything.  I quickly made my way to the medical staff and took off my shoes and removed the duct tape and mole skin that was applied over 20  miles ago.  The first aid guru here says nothing doing.  I'm confused and don't understand until I see him take two pieces of duct tape and plaster them right over my blisters -- no padding, nothing, just duct tape on raw, chewed-up skin.  Rick must have asked for a bandaid or mole skin.  Whew!  I was worried there for a minute - when he said "nothing doing," I was afraid he was referring to me continuing.  Zach is there and Rick shoves my wet, stinky shoes into his hands and he takes it like a champ while I try as quickly as I can to put the fresh, clean socks and shoes on for the last 39.5 miles of this race.

Unfortunately, my inserts are in those shoes and we have to yell at Zach to bring them back to me.  This causes more of delay getting me out of the aid station and F and I are anxious to hit the trail.  It is now 16 hours and 48 minutes into the race for me or 8:48 pm.  It took me 4 hours 1 minute and 57 seconds to make it from Winfield to Twin Lakes - believe it or not, I did this stretch 5.5 minutes faster on the return than I did on the way out.  Way to go Chris!

Finally, dry shoes, dry socks and a good stop overall and F and I step out of the aid station and head up the steep trail to begin our leg in the ever-increasing night.  F and his wife Kelly has postponed their trip to Hawaii by one week so he can pace me at Leadville, and I really appreciated it!  F and I paced this exact stretch two years ago with Felix and Justin.  Both are runners in our ad hoc group out of C-Springs and both finishered in 2008.  It was cold, drizzly, and hailed that night but man, what an experience!  When the moon peeked out of the clouds through the trees - I fell in love with trail running and knew I had to experience Leadville for myself.  I loved that feeling so much - being out in the middle of the night doing something that taxes you to your ultimate limits and still, able to enjoy a beautiful moon.

So naturally, when deciding who should pace me on this stretch, it had to be F.  He and I have trained together quite a bit.  He asked me to help him train for his first marathon.  I asked him to help me train for my first 50 miler.  He's a great runner and a great friend; but he's a tad quiet ... usually.  Not tonight.  Tonight, F kept a steady stream of chatter and kept me focused on the course.   I learned about his new car, what they wanted to do in Hawaii, his progress on his master's degree ... all good stuff to keep me awake.

F aslo did a great job picking me up when I was weary after Hope and pushed me in a very gentle; but persistent, fashion.  This is the stretch that seemed so wonderful except for leg pain on the way out -- now it was abundantly clear that it was slightly downhill the first time I hit it today.  F and I remarked numerous times that we did not remember it being so steep, with so many uphill sections 2 years ago.   I am feeling a bit tired now and the pain is almost with me constantly so I take another batch of pain killers.

As the night grew longer and darker, we continued along the trail and finally popped out, almost as a surprise, at the Half Moon aid station.  It was lit up with lights; however, it wasn't very visible until almost on top of it due to the terrain.  This section took me 2 hours, 26 minutes, 26 seconds and is the first section I lost time on.  Chris told me that this would be the first leg I would really be tired on and I was prepared for it -- this Good thing I had built up such a lead on the cut off times on the way out.  I am now 19 hours and 14 minutes in the race and I have to make it to Fish Hatchery by 3:00 am.  (It is now 11:19 pm).  That seems pretty doable; however, the evening is getting colder, I am in constant pain anytime I try to run and I have the horrible exposed road section ahead of me.

All of this is on F's mind and we cruised through the aid station pretty quick -- F didn't even stop for food like he did two years ago and we continued on down to Tree Line and our waiting crew.  During this stretch F told me that my crew had a surprise for me when I got there. I could not fathom what it was.  However, once we pushed through the trees and saw the pacer vehicles lined up, I could see what F was talking about. Our Ford Ranger was lit up better than a Christmas Tree!  Christmas lights are strung from one end to the other and back again!  It is such a welcomed sight in the middle of the night!  I cannot believe what my family and friends have done to pick my spirits up and get into the spirit of the race!  (It was so lit up, that another runner mistook it for the aid station!).  F has finished his leg, got me through another stretch and now breaks away for Rick's Dad to pick me up for the next stretch - the four miles along the road in the middle of the night and exposed to to the cold Colorado wind that has kicked up.

Rick's dad, Jim, has trained for this section; almost as long as I have.  In his late sixties, Dad is fit and toned and ready to go.  We head down the gravel, dirt road and Dad is ready to run.  However, once again, I have to sadly tell another pacer how bad my legs are doing but I'll try.  I take a couple of stabs at running and it is painfully obvious that I cannot run as fast as I can powerhike.  He is good with that and we begin to eat the miles away that way instead.  As we hit the road, I tell Dad I need to pee.  Okay, we'll find a bush.  No, Dad, right now and I pull my shorts down on the side of the road.  I think this shocked my father-in-law but he rolled with the punches so well!  It was funny, watching him trying to shield me from oncoming headlights while I did my business.  I've told a lot of non-runner friends that ultra running is like giving birth, you don't care who see what, you just want to get what needs to be done, done! I was happy that I was so well hydrated that I needed to relieve myself.  Relieve myself I did ... three more times on that stretch.  I believe I was relieving myself of the excess water-retention. 

The night is freezing and I'm getting colder and colder.  But we press on and after my other pit stops we make it into Fish Hatchery before the cut-off.  This was a very difficult leg due to the freezing temperatures and the wind.  I wish I had put more clothes on at Treeline and I am now so cold I am almost shaking.    
I'm in the aid station at Fish Hatchery and I'm freezing cold.  Whitney throws Josh's blanket over me and I pull it over my head and tuck into myself to warm up.  I start mumbling, 'I don't know if I can do this," thinking about Sugarloaf Pass ahead of me.  Rick quickly gets my attention and sharply; but simply, states, "Yes, you can."  Okay. He's right, I can.  Sometimes that's all you need, someone who believes in you to give you a wake up call, or kick in the pants.

During this cold, lonely stretch, I had one runner pass me during and it was a 70 year man!  How humbling.

From Half Moon to Fish Hatchery it took me 2 hours 15 minutes and 59 seconds (almost 30 minutes slower than on the way out).  It is 21.5 hours into the run.  I've covered 76.5 miles and it's about 1:30 am in the middle of the night.  However, I've made the cut-off with and hour and a half cushion.  As I leave the aid station, I hit a porta-pottie to put my pants on (this takes an extraordinary amount of time) and then continue up the road with my new pacer, Woody, to tackle power line, Sugarloaf Pass, and the fireroad down to May Queen.

Woody is my husband's cousin's husband!  I had to say it that way, they're from North Carolina and that's how it's done!  Woody is also in phenomenal shape and is a great at motivating.  We have the steep, washed-out powerline section to tackle first and he steadily, but gently, pushes me up this with encouraging words and non-stop chatter.  I tell you, if you are in the middle of the desert and want someone to convince you are not dying of thirst, Woody is your man! 

Sugarloaf is a mean little mountain on the way back due to all the false summits.  Every time you think you've crested it; you look up and see the trail of tiny headlamps far ahead of you ... still climbing.  But what a neat sight.  You look up and see the spots of light and finally, after cresting, you can look down and see them behind and below you.  Truly a neat experience, despite all the bad-mouthing that Sugarloaf took that night from us and from all the runners we pass.  Yes, my powerhiking is paying off.  I am passing runners on the uphill section of Sugarloaf and am just astounded.  I passed two runners who beat me at the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty during this leg and cannot believe it.  Neither one retook me the rest of the race -- this is what powerhiking can do for you!

Back to the race.  Woody and I finally crest Sugarloaf and that windy fireroad that I wanted to run down so badly earlier in the day is there.  Unfortunately, I cannot run downhill.  I try to take another pain killer and my stomach revolts.  This is the first time I cannot swallow anything without gagging and spitting it up.  My ability to eat has just flown out the window and I still have over 16 miles left to go.

We powerhike down the fireroad, hit the trail into the woods and I feel like I am slowing rapidly due to the amount of tree roots I have to traverse, along with all the other things taht poke up on the trail in the middle of the night.  However, we finally make it to the paved road and I know that soon, this leg will to be over. 

As we near the aid station, a total stranger appears on my left and simply states, "You've made it. You can finish now."  I tear up and almost cry, it's the first time that it dawns on me that I truly can make it.  That I can finish in time, despite my pain and fading strength.  This gives me a boost and we pick up the pace into the aid station, powerhiking right by my crazy daughter Jess and Aunt Robin, who, truth be told, are looking mighty fine in mis-matched socks, feather boas, New Year's hats, and now, lighted necklaces! 

Fish Hatchery is a welcomed sight and I hear my crew and family cheering us on as I go up to the check-in station.  Woody breaks off to let them know how I am doing and I come back down to them and hit the porta-pottie.  This last leg took me 3 hours, 40 minutes and 8 seconds.  That is almost 1 hour and 20 minutes slower than the way out yesterday morning; however, I'm not complaining and I give all the credit to Woody!  I am now 25 hours and 10 minutes into the race -- yes, I've been running for over a solid day now and I still have 13.5 miles left.  I have run 86.5 miles and made it into the aid station at 5:10 am -- the cut-off is 6:30 am -- so unbelievably, Woody has pushed me so hard that I have only lost 10 minutes in my padding that I built up yesterday.  What a fantastic job Woody did to get me here with that much time in my pocket.

Michelle takes me out of May Queen ready to pace me for the majority of the 13.5 mile stretch into Leadville.  She is my husband Rick's cousin and a great person.  Michelle is ready and willing to push me to my max and as we head up the road to catch the trail around Turquoise Lake and the waiting sunrise, we are optimistic.  Until I crash, physically and almost emotionally. 

Chris has told my crew I look good, that I'm strong and not to worry; however, during Michelle's leg, all of the pushing I've done to my legs past the point of pain starts to catch up and I am getting very, very weary.  I try to eat, nope, I gag instead. I try to drink and the same thing happens - almost immediately I have to spit it out or risk throwing up.  I try to suck on some candy and I can do that for bit before my stomach revolts on that as well.  The only thing left to do is shut up, grit my teeth, and push those legs for just 13 more miles.  So that's what we do. 

I tell Michelle that I feel like I am going fast; however, it is painfully obvious I am not as runners begin to pass me now.  As the sun rises across the lake, this is the time I am supposed to get a boost of energy, smell the finish line and go for it; but I cannot.  I have nothing left in the tank and I feel the pain more and more and I cannot block it as I have done earlier in the race.

We near the boat ramp and my crew, who has expected me so much earlier, is shocked.  This is not the strong Teri they saw just 6 miles ago; this is a whole new animal.  Michelle leaves me and I am joined by Josh, my daughter's boyfriend for a few miles.  I have no idea what my crew is thinking, I can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other, to try and respond to questions, and continue to grit my teeth.  I pump my arms as much as I can, trying to extract energy and motion from other parts of my body and just continue -- to put one foot in front of the other. 

We pop off the trail around Turquoise Lake and I only have the boulevard left to traverse to make it to the finish line about 5 miles away.  Josh leaves me and Rick is here to take me into town.  This has always been the plan and I am ready for him, he's my husband and I wanted him to take me the final part.  Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.  By now, Chris has conferred with Rick and expressed his concerns about me not finishing.  He promised to take the final leg if he felt I was in danger of not making it; however, he feels that Rick will have a better shot of getting me to put out in the manner I need to cross the finish line in under 30 hours.

I've lost so much of my padded time; however, no one tells me just how bad it is.  As soon as Josh peels off, Rick is right there to push me on, no stop, no hi, how are you, we just continue past everyone and hit the horribly steep trail down to the gravel/dirt road of the boulevard.  This is not a trail, it is an access path for telephone poles and I don't remember it from the previous morning.  I must have scrambled up it, I know I did; but it is unfamiliar to me and I protest most strongly.  Nope, this is it Teri, now get down it. 

I look down it and I almost cry.  Each step is agony.  Each one is accompanied by a grunt of expressed air as I force each of my aching legs to move, one painful step at a time, down this terrible route.  Rick is ahead of me all the time, encouraging me using his military command voice.  This is not the sweet, nice Rick I am used to; I did not bargain for this and in my wearied state, I ask if he cannot be nice to me.  Nothing doing. 

Finally, I make it down this section.  It is probably only a tenth of a mile but it takes such a toll on my legs that I am barely moving once we hit the road.  Rick is now getting me involved emotionally.  He tells me to run this mile for Jessica.  Jessica, my younger daughter who was diagnosed with Type-1 diabetes last year. Think of all she's had to push through.  The next mile is for Whitney, our older daughter, who will be a college senior and has taken time out of her schedule to film me during this.  Rick persistenly, and not so gently forces me to continue, to pick up the pace and to try to focus on something other than my own pain.



On the Boulevard - focused on just
moving.  Woody, Chris, Me, Rick

About half way through this seciton Rick tells me he has a surprise for me up ahead.  This is processed vaguely in my mind as I try to focus on pushing my legs to work.  he tells me to look up and as I obey, I watch him grab a US flag from our dad and proceed to carry it with us as we continue.  What a great sight!  My husband sure knows what buttons to push, and I am motivated once again by the sight of Old Glory next to me.

After what seems like an eternity, we hit the final gravel/dirt road before the streets of town and I look up once again.  This time I see Zach ahead of me in a John Deere green shirt!  That gives me another great image to focus on and we continue my slow, painful progress into town.

Finally!  The streets of Leadville; however, I am demoralized.  I hear, almost as soon as I hit pavement, the church bell ring 9 bells.  It's 9:00 am and I have less than an hour to finish this race or miss the cut-off.  My goal was 26-28 hours and I now know that I will not make it.  It was my personal 2nd goal; my final goal of finishing is the only one left -- the only one that truly matters now.


My Crew surrounding me for
the final mile of Leadville! 



Ten minutes later, I round the corner and hit sixth street.  Chris stated if I wasn't here by 9:00 am I would not finish; it's 9:10.  Whitney has overheard him and stands up for me stating I always save something for the finish, the final push.  What faith my daughter has in me! 

I have my head down and I am working as hard as I can to keep the legs moving one in front of the other.  IWhen my family sees me. I am pumping my tired arms, not listening to anything until Whitney says, "Mom! Run to that grey building."  I look up to the right and see the grey building and I powerhike as fast as I can to it.  Once again Whitney's voice is able to pierce my fog "Mom! Look Up!"  And I look up and I can see the finish line down the hill and up the final one. 

I zone in on that, lock my eyes on the red banner above it and move.  Incredibly, I pick up the pace.  My mother-in-law is running next to me telling me how proud she is and falls back due to my new found speed.  My family shouts encouragement to me as I powerhike the fastest I ever have in my life to that lovely, little tape stretched out in front of me!  What a great feeling to break that tape!  I have finished the Leadville Trail 100 Mile Run in 29 hours, 20 minutes and 27 seconds. 

The last leg, from May Queen to the finish took me 4 hours and 9 minutes compared to the 2 hours and 41 minutes on the way out yesterday.  However, I did it!  I did it with the help of 15 people in the past two days and countless others throughout the year.  Each person who encourageed me during a race; who ran with me, who volunteered at an aid station got me to this place and I thank each and everyone of you!

After the finish, hugs and tears for Rick, Whitney, Jessica, the rest of my family and friends; a finisher medal around my neck, flowers in my hand and a quick trip to the medical tent where I almost pass out from an oxygen depleted body.  I can hardly move and am dizzy everytime I stand up. Rick and Robin help me into the back seat of the car where I lay down for the trip back to the RV.  I am so light-headed I ask them to go the ceremony without me and pick up my silver buckle for me.  Pain infuses my body and I am oh, so tired. But that is only temporary.  The sense of accomplishment and all the love that was proven to me throughout the last two days will stay with me forever. 

I can now say I am a Leadville Finisher!

Leadville Trail 100 - First 50 miles

Before the start, double checking gear
Jess, Me, Whitney and Rick

Leadville

August 21, 2010

100 miles

29 hours 20 minutes 27.5 seconds
847 registered runners
363 finishers

The day is here before I know it.  Last night it was a little noisy in the cabin and I had to get out to clear my head. I walked down to the end of the campground road and looked at the mountains that I would be traversing the next day.  In front of me I saw the gravel, dirt road that we runners would be on in the morning heading out of Leadville toward Winfield. A deep breath of fresh, clean cool mountain air and I relax.  I am quietly joined by Rick who must have sensed I was getting a bit overwhelmed inside.

I tell him I just needed some peace and quiet and as we head back to the cabin, we pass a few other runners making their way to their tents or cabins.  No salutation is needed, a slight tilt of the head at the green medical wrist band acknowleging each other and our own personal demons or desires, is all that is required or desired.  Each of us is heading into the race tomorrow with our own goals in mind.  We are beginning our preparations, going over and over in our minds our pre race check list - what will the weather be?  Shorts or running pants?  Do I have enough gus/gels/aspirin in my pockets?  Where is my flashlight?  Whatever it is, each of us is doing it and we all need that peace and quiet and silence.

On our return to the cabin, all of the family and friends must have realized that I needed quiet and those not staying with us have returned to their cabins or rvs.  It is now time to say goodnight and try to get some sleep.  The demons will have to wait until tomorrow.  

It's 2:30 am and I roll out of bed as quietly as I can so I do not wake Rick, Whitney, Jess, or Josh on the sofa. I turn on the light in the bathroom, gather my running clothes that I prepared the night before, brush my teeth and make sure the coffee is on.   Now begins the questioning that precedes each race - the same questions I faced alone the night before.  It is never about my training.  I trained hard.  I trained long and I put in the miles of trials.  It is about what to wear, what to take, does my crew understand how vitally important they are to my ultimate success or failure?  Can those who do not run 25 miles alone each Sunday possibly understand?

Dad pops in a little before 3:00 am and I rouse my sleepy girls.  It's almost time to drive to the start, check in, and begin this little race.  Rick and Jess jump into car with me and we're off.  Whitney and Josh follow along and I lose track of all the others.  I am focusing on the race. I am running around Turquoise Lake in my head, power hiking up Hope Pass and sloshing through the meadow.  Run it; run it; run it a thousand times in your head before ever putting toe to line.

Waiting to start at 4:00 am

I arrive at the start in plenty of time.   Rick, the girls, Josh, Dad, Robin, Mom, Woody, and I think Michelle are all here.  I'm really only aware of Rick and Jess and Whit.  After checking in, I tell them which side of the road I'm going to line up on so they can see me as I start.  "You're Stronger than you Think you Are" booms from the co- race directors and the count down begins.

Strangely, I am not nervous, I have no doubts, I just want this race to begin.  I know I can't afford pre-race jitters as they'll take too much of my energy and I'm jealously guarding my energy today.  It's 4:00 am on the dot and the gun goes off.  The line surges forward down 6th street heading out of town; however, as far back as I am, I begin to slowly shuffle at first and hope my family sees me as I pass them.

We make our way down the dirt/gravel road known as the boulevard and my first miles are at 11:43 and 11:29 respectively.  I don't know this since I've vowed not to look at my garmin too much and race too much against myself during Leadville.  It would be insane for me to do so.  All I am worried about is making it to each checkpoint with time to spare before the cut-offs.  I've given Rick a preliminary estimate of how long I think each segment will take me.  Turns out, I was spot on the first 50 miles, even added some padding to my rough estimates; but after 50 miles, all bets are off.  However, I digress, let's get back to the first leg of Leadville - from the start to May Queen aid station on Turquoise Lake at 13.5 miles into the race.

Before I jump onto the single track around Turquoise Lake, I realize I am passing my own campground and trodding on the very same road I stood at last night.  I look to my left and spy one of the pirate flags I passed out to my crew, friends and family.  It is Gloria waving her flag and shouting encouragements to strangers as if they were her own children.  What a glorious sight!  I yell to her and she sees me and smiles as she now has a target for her frantic well wishes!  I pass her my long sleeve shirt and tell her to give it to Rick when she sees him.  Wow.  What great friends.  It is freezing cold for her (mild 30s CO) and she is out in the pre-dawn hours watching, in her mind - a bunch of lunatics, run 100 miles.

Continuing around the lake in the early morning mist, I hit traffic.  I am about 8th line behind someone picking their way around the lake and my blood pressure begins to rise.  Just pull over I scream in my head; but nothing doing.  I hate it when runners ignore those piling up behind them.  I know it's dawn and it's a single track; however, it is a race you bloody fool I want to yell at her.  Finally, after what seems to be miles and miles, I cannot take it anymore and when the trail widens a bit, I pass all 7 in front of me.  I am quickly followed by, it seems, 6 others.  Ha!  I wasn't the only runner silently swearing in the safety of my own head.

Coming into May Queen

After the single track, we hit road and I can hear May Queen before I see it.  2 hours 41 minutes and 25 seconds and I'm in May Queen!  The cut off is 7:15 am and I am here at 6:41.  Good, over 30 minutes ahead of the cut off.  I hope to keep that up as I continue.  As I come in, Jess and Robin are there cheering me on before I hit the aid station.  Jess runs alongside me with walkie talkie in hand.  She asks me what I need and relays it to Rick.

When I pull through and find my crew, they swarm me and all begin asking me what I need.  This overwhelms me and I cannot process anything.

May Queen and Crew

I am not used to having any crew in an ultra and this ... wow, all this with good intentions; but I cannot think, let alone process.  Fortunately, I do get the essentials and I grab what I need from willing hands and hit the trail again with Rick jogging along side me for a bit.  I know I must have been a bit short with them; but I'm in a race now, I'm not there to socialize and every second I stay there is one less I have to run.  (I found out later that the walkie talkies were not working).

Back out on the course and I feel great.  I have no issues right now, I am running at a nice pace and the weather is absolutely gorgeous.  I begin to notice those around me and talk to a few as I pass them or they pass me.  What a great day!

This section takes me over my first major climb - Sugarloaf Pass at 11,071 elevation.  I begin climbing the fire road that winds up to Sugarloaf pass with my power hiking that I've honed all summer long and I trudge up the road in grand style passing people.  Once I hit the top, I spy Barefoot Bob and a runner with him.  I tell Bob I don't know who is crazier, him or me.  He is wearing rubber sandals and I already see blood on his right foot.  Geesh, what a glutton for punishment I think before I realize who it is and that he's run with the Tarahumara.  The runner next to him begins to talk to me and I find out he's run Leadville numerous times so I ask him for advice.  "Virgin," he says, "take it easy on the downhills."  Good advice for me, since this is someone I really need to listen to and I must make sure I don't blow out my quads.  Also, I love running downhills and have counted on my ability on the downhill sections to make up time.

I am having a problem now.  It started before May Queen and I elected to ignore it.  The heels of my running shoes are rubbing my own heels raw.  I've never had this problem before and I run through my pre-race week.  Darn it!  It occurs to me I put new insoles in my shoes about two weeks prior and this little bit of extra padding is wrecking havoc on my heels.  I shove this pain to the back of my brain.  It's not intense, just annoying and what am I going to do?  Stop?  Ha!  I read a story earlier this year and one of the runners in it had his pacer tell him, "Blisters?!  You can't die from blisters! Get up!"  So, with that running through my mind, I press on and begin the descent down to Fish Hatchery.

There is a horrible stretch downhill called power line here and I pick my way gingerly down the washed out section with power lines buzzing above me.  It's a steep downhill and the words of wisdom given to me miles ago play back in my head.  My right IT band twinges a bit down here and I take some fast acting tylenol to knock it out.  Little did I know this was a precursor of things to come.

I make it down this section a lot slower than I thought it would take and then get back into a groove again as the course levels out.  That's a funny statement! I'm running in the Rocky Mountains and I consider a stretch without a major climb or descent, level!

Once again Jess and Robin are yards in front of the aid station waving a sign and yelling at me!  A big smile spreads across my face and I relay through Jess to Rick what I think I need.  I cruise into the aid station with a total elapsed time of 5 hours 5 minutes and 2 seconds.  This second stage of 10 miles has taken me 2 hours 23 minutes and 36 seconds to accomplish -- not bad considering Sugarloaf Pass.  The cut off time is 10 am and I am here at 5 past nine. I have added another 25 minutes to my padding on the cut-off time (total of 55 minutes ahead now) and I am very happy.

Working on blisters at Fish Hatchery
Michelle, Woody (red), Chris and Mom 

Going through the aid station, I spy my crew and tell Rick my heels are killing me and he, Chris and Whit quickly take my shoes off to put mole skin on them.  The whole time they do this, I am complaining about all the time I am losing. Those poor guys, trying to help me and all I want to do is get back out there and run!

This aid station pit crew stop is a lot smoother than the first. Rick realized what happened and had a talk with them I guess.  He walks me out of the aid station as I eat a banana and hold a peanut butter sandwich.  Silly things like not having the banana peeled are bothering me and I tell Rick.  Once again, they've never seen me so demanding!

When I went through the aid station I picked up some power bars.  Now I spy F on the way out and tell him I picked them up for him!  F, Chris and Diane have driven up and made it to Fish Hatchery before me!  I tell F what a great stretch that was and that I cannot wait to run the Sugarloaf fire road on the way back!

I'm off on the third leg with 23.5 miles down, only 76.5 miles left to go!  This section starts with 4 miles of asphalt road with no cover and it is a place where good flat runners can make up time.

Heels are the only thing really bothering me now.  The mole skin helps a bit until my sweat causes it to move around, now it is just getting annoying and I have more difficulty pushing it to the back of my mind.  However, during this stretch I meet a wonderful racer.  In the middle of Rick and Whit trying to fix my heels, I forgot to pick up my seal bag of salt tablets for this stretch!  The road is warming up with the sun getting higher and hotter as I run.  I pass by a runner with a British flag on her backpack and strike up a conversation.  She and her husband are running Leadville!  Her name is Nicole Brown and she and I talk a bit as we run on the road.  I tell her how upset I am and how silly it is, over salt tablets.  She reaches into her pocket and says, "here, take some of mine."  I thank her profusely as I do take 3 to tied me over to the next crew stop.  She confides in me that she is not feeling well and we run together a bit more as I try to reassure her and give her confidence.  My pace is a bit faster and I ask her if she wants to go along, no thank you.   So I continue up to Treeline and my crew.

This section goes by quickly for the crews, it is a dash to get to the aid station and set up before the runners come in.  The runners cannot be crewed at Half Moon aid station, so we get what we can before then at Treeline.  This is important since we won't see them again until mile 39.5 and Twin Lakes.  I am noticing a phenomena before each aid station.  Jessica and Robin's clothing is getting a little more crazy each time I see them!  It takes awhile for this to dawn on me and when it does, I finally realize why they were late getting to Leadville the night before.  And I yelled at them at the time.  Sorry guys!!

Leaving Tree Line heading up to Half Moon -
Rick and Michelle walking next to me.

Now, my crew is working so well together.  I spy Woody and tell him about Nicole behind me and that she may need a pacer out of Winfield.  She didn't bring any with her.  He nods and tells me he will talk to her as she goes through.  It's sunny, I'm doing well and I'm running in the Rockies with my family all there ... does it get any better?

Out of Treeline and up to Half Moon.  This section seems to go on forever.  Two years ago, I thought it was just a couple of miles from Half Moon down to Treeline when I paced Felix; I must have been mistaken.  I spy Nicole ahead of me; she passed me as I was getting crewed.  I slowly catch up to her and ask her how she is doing.  Not so hot Nicole says.  I don't know what else to do so I give her a piece of my candied ginger and tell her it really helps settle my stomach.  I hope it works for her.  We talk a bit more and Nicole once again tells me to push on and with a smile I do just that.

It seems this section is all uphill so I end up powerhiking a good deal of this section.  In addition, the moving mole skin is now killing me.  Finally, I see the tent for Half Moon.  It is a quiet aid station and I quickly pass through looking for first aid for my heels.  I am directed to the first aid tent and I am flipped on my back on the cot for them to see my heels.  This feels pretty good as it stretches my core.

The first aid gurus ask me how many miles I logged in my shoes ... but they're my lucky shoes!  Not today they aren't they respond as they chide me for wearing my shoes through my 4th ultra of the year.  After repositioning the mole skin, they apply duct tape to the whole thing and I quickly lace up my shoes and head out the door.  Not so fast, they tell me.  I quickly find out, anyone requiring medical attention needs to jump on the scale. Sure, not a problem.  The scale tells me I've gained weight.  Good!  This means I'm hydrating well, eating enough and not bonking.  Good also, because no digits are swollen - I don't feel like I am retaining a bunch of water either.  However, the total time in the aid station kills me, it's at least 10 minutes and I hate it.  Total time elapsed to this point, 6 hours 53 minutes and 11 seconds.  This leg (from Fish Hatchery to Half Moon) took 1 hour 48 minutes and 9 seconds.  It is 10:53 am and I'm doing fine.

The next leg is a nice leg of running on nice soft trails through trees.  It doesn't seem to be all downhill but let me tell you, on the way back, I'll realize it!  I enjoy this stretch in the cool trees but I have a new issue pop up.  That right IT band, or what I thought was the IT band, turns out to be my right knee.

I am experiencing a sharp, stabbing pain on the outside of my right knee anytime I run downhill.  It started as a sporadic pain but is now flaring up each time I hit a fairly steep downhill section.  My one true strength, running downhills has just been chewed up and spit out on the course.  I am not happy as I frantically run through my mind all of the aches and pains I've had running to date to figure out what this is.  If it is something I've experienced before, then I'll know what to do; how to treat it and how to repress it.  Familiar pain is just that, familiar.  You can block it by treating it like an not-so-nice old friend.  Yeah, I hear ya, I know you're there; but I'm going to ignore you 'cause I know you.  You don't scare me.  That's how I deal with pain - a familiar pain.  Unfamiliar pain is scary and more difficult to ignore and make go away.  I pop an 800mg pain killer and hope that it blocks the pain for me since I can't seem to do it on my own.

After about 30 minutes, I can run but I am running very gingerly downhill now.  The uphill, I am good, the flats, they don't bother me as long as I am wary.  Overall, I can't decide if I need to tell anyone or not.  I don't want my crew to worry needlessly and as I told them before the race, I'd have to have a broken bone sticking out of the skin before I stop running.

After what seems to be a very long time, I hear Twin Lakes and the crews cheering their runners on long before I ever see it.  This gives me a great boost and not so long after that, there are Jessica and Robin again!  I glance at them and try to tell Jess what I need but the trail dropping down to Twin Lakes is steep and I need to pay attention to it.

Twin Lakes and working on the blisters ... again.
Michelle, Woody, F,  Rick and Chris

Once again my crew is there and waiting for me.  They direct me to the truck and I sit on the tailgate while they adjust my heels and shoes again.  I don't want them to do too much since I have the water and the meadow next before Hope.  They've also thoughtfully set up a lawn chair; however, I shy away from it like the plague -- I'm afraid if I sit down in it I'll never rise up.  

39.5 miles into the race and I've been out for 8 hours 39 minutes and 48 seconds and I'm not even halfway through the race.  This section took me 1 hour 46 minutes and 36 seconds.  Overall, it's 12:40 pm and the cut-off is for 2 pm.  I'm making time.  I'll need this since the hardest part is staring right up at me ... Hope Pass and a 10.5 mile stretch to Winfield.

Leaving Twin Lakes - Hope Pass ahead

I get off the tailgate and head out into the open meadow while eating and drinking.  I'm taking it slow as I push into the meadow, I have a lot of climbing ahead of me.  Not quite half way through the meadow, I hit the first of 5 water crossings with the last the deepest.  The water is freezing but feels great on my burning heels and as I go through the last one, I stop in the middle for a second since it is up to my knees and I want the water to cool off my right knee a bit.

It is during this stretch that I look up and see Tony Krupicka running towards me with his pacer.  I yell at him good luck and marvel that he has already climbed Hope Pass twice while I'm still on this side of the meadow.  Note: Tony was an hour ahead of the next runner but dropped at Twin Lakes or Half Moon, not sure where.

Once through the meadow, I begin the long uphill to Hope Pass.  I force myself into a slow, mile crunching slog up this mountain.  As I slowly make my way up Hope, I am astonished to see so many runners on the side of the trail. As I pass them, I ask them if they are alright. One responded, "yup, just stopped for a picnic."  I pass 12 runners that have stepped to the side to catch their breath and numerous others that were moving, just a tad slower than I.

Don't get the impression that this section was easy; it was by far the most difficult stretch I ran (excluding Windy Peak at Golden Gate Dirty Thirty which probably prepared me for this); I invoked my Gimli the Dwarf saying numerous times, "Keep breathing, just keep breathing."  I had to continue, I dared not stop and not be able to start again.  I saw a runner ahead of me place her hands behind her back in Apollo Ohno speed skating style and so I tried this technique and found it worked well.  Head bent down, don't look up, one foot in front of the other, breathe, and do it again, and again, and a thousand times again.

After what seems ages, the trees broke and I was above treeline looking up and seeing a tent.  It was the aid station below Hope Pass and I only had about a mile (or so it seemed) to go to get to it.  It was windy and cool and I was happy I had my yellow jacket tied around my waist.  I zipped it up and trudged onward and upward until I was greeted by smiling volunteers who took my camelback and filled it up for me.  At 11,836' in elevation, this aid station was a welcomed sight.  Whew! Only need to go to the top, crest, run down to Winfield, turn around and do it all again.  Llamas graced the field around the aid station - they are the pack mules who make this aid station happen and I felt like Heidi or Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music seeing them grazing with the Rockies in the background.

After refueling, I continued on to the crest of Hope Pass at 12,526'.  My goodness!  That stretch took its toll on me!  I knew it would be grueling; but until you do it, you just can't imagine climbing from 9,200' in the meadow to 12,500' atop of Hope Pass.

After cresting Hope, I looked down and saw a very rocky stretch of switchbacks that I needed to head down.  I was deflated.  I don't mind switchbacks, was looking forward to the downhill; but rocky and with a right knee stabbing me every time I stepped down; I was not happy.  However, I got to it as fast as I could and gritted my teeth.

This was also the first section where I encountered runners en masse on the return leg.  This made the descent good and bad.  I was happy for those runners, cheered them on; however, I had to step aside and let them pass so any rhythm I would get into was quickly lost by moving over.  But this is also the beauty of Leadville.  As I congratulated them, they also cheered me on and congratulated me.  Wow.  Ultra runners are great.

Getting back into the tree line meant an even steeper downhill section and more pain.  By now, my left leg was bothering me with all the extra work I was inflicting upon it.  Not good, but not life threatening or too bad too quit -- no bones sticking out!

I hit the dirt road finally and turned right up toward Winfield for the last 2.5 miles.  On this stretch, I forced myself into a jog and held it as long as I could before walking and beginning the process again.  This, combined with the dust from vehicles going up to Winfield and leaving the aid station was not pleasant.  I felt like I was choking on dust and envied those who had something over their noses.

Yes! On the left!  I spied Jessica and Robin!!  Oh my!  Winfield and the 50 mile mark and finally, a pacer!  I smile at my crew as I powerhiked past them to the check in and weigh in.  Hope Pass took a lot out of me, but thankfully, my weight was still above my check in weight from Friday.  6 pm was the cut-off at Winfield - I made it there at  4:46 pm.  Total time elapsed:  12 hours 46 minutes and 43 seconds.  The section from Twin Lakes to Winfield took me 4 hours 6 minutes and 55 seconds.  Yeah, 10.5 miles in 5 hours ... what a speed demon.  But I did it.

I left the aid station, found my crew, brushed my teeth, had my camelback taken from me and felt great!  I greeted Chris, my first pacer and great running friend and he said, "Here's the deal."  I almost choked on laughter -- that's Chris, always with the plan and always starts it with, Here's the deal!"  I was so excited and pumped to finally have someone run with me I felt great -- despite the raw heels with blisters on top of blisters, a stabbing right knee and the back of my left knee hurting.  "Let's go Teri," Chris said.  Okay.  And off we went retracing the steps I just took for the last 50 miles heading into a Colorado evening and night.

The next post will have the next 50 miles ...  :)

Leadville Trail 100 mile run

August 21-22, 2010

Leadville, CO

I have been very remiss in posting the race; needless to say I was tired. I was injured. I have a full-time job. Did I mention that I was tired? What an experience! How does one describe an such a meaningful event in one's life without falling short? I will now try to detail the race and my emotions.

But first, this race was not run by myself alone, I had the help and assistance of 15 wonderful people. These included my family, my friends, their friends, our children, their friends, our cadets and their friends! It was truly amazing having so many people there throughout the entire weekend cheering for me, running with me, making sure I had what I needed at each aid station, freezing in the middle of the night for me, making me laugh, keeping me from crying, you name it -- I could not have done this without each and every one of them. From Rick coordinating the entire crew, to Chris as Master Pacer extraordinairre, to Gloria on the side of the road in the predawn hours waving her pirate flag -- each of these people gave so much to me.

So before I bore you with race details -- here are the true gutsy people this weekend:

Rick - My wonderful husband was also my Pit Crew Boss and coordinated everything. He was the man in charge of making sure I had anything and everything I needed when I hit an aid station. The first one was a bit loud with everyone asking me questions; Rick quickly realized that and got that under control by the time I came through the next one. A true, heartfelt thank you for that job.

On top of that, he also ran the last 5 miles with me. This was the hardest pacing position for anyone -- I was injured, I was dehydrated, I hurt and he got me out of the pain-induced fog, forced me along and made sure I finished the race ... in under 30 hours by yelling at me like a drill sergeant. I swear, I've never heard him talk to me like that in our 23 years of marriage; but it worked!

Whitney - my lovely, fun, older daughter who took video of me and all the friends and family throughout the race. She believed in me and knew that I always (even after 99 miles Whitney?) save something for the finish. The one who was able to get through to me in the last 10 minutes of the race by shouting encouragements to me. "Mom! Run to the grey building!" and I ran to the grey building. "Mom! Look Up!" And I looked up and saw the finish line. That helped me to zero in on that, focus, and yup, pick up the pace.

Jessica - my lovely, sweet younger daughter who is just as crazy as her Aunt Robin. Jess relayed to Rick what I needed right before I came into an aid station using a walkie talkie. She also has such fashion sense ... just like her Aunt Robin and kept my spirits us throughout the night. Jess, you are just the best dresser! Thank you for staying up past your bedtime and wake up time and not falling asleep!

Robin - I have to follow Jess with Robin since she was the second part of the dynamic duo! I could not figure out why Whitney, Jess and Robin needed to stop at the Dollar Store before heading to Leadville, consequently making them late leaving C-Springs. It became abundantly clear during the race. Robin and Jess met me before each and every aid station all through Saturday, Saturday night and Sunday with their mode of dress getting progressively crazier and crazier! Yup, Robin may be skinny; but she's still quite a woman, and what a woman! Thanks Robin for your kooky ideas, I looked forward to each aid station once I realized what was going on!

Dad - Man. I couldn't ask for a better Dad. He trained harder than anyone else in my group for this race ... besides me. He began training almost as soon as I told him I would like him to pace me in Leadville. Dad took the horrible 4 mile stretch in the middle of the night from Treeline to Fish hatchery. More about that stretch later. Thanks Dad for driving all the way from NC to pace your daughter-in-law at Leadville.

Mom - You ran the food show and I love your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches! I saw you on my right hand side running next to me that last mile and my heart just wanted to burst. Your encouragement during the race and care with my eating was fantastic and will not be forgotten. Once again, thanks mom for driving all the way from NC to allow Dad and I to run a short little run together!

Chris - Dude! You are the Pacer King!! I love having you as a friend and mentor and I cannot say how much your wisdom has coached me these last 3 years. And now a whole group of NC people think you're pretty smart as well! Thanks for Hope Pass and always being so cheerful, except when we're in the swamp before Twin Lakes -- please, can I have a headlamp or flashlight? Is that 16 finishers now?

Diane - Thanks for coming out! I really appreciated seeing you there and I sure hope you had a great time watching Chris, F, and I do what we love!

F - My running partner and friend who, this time, said no when I asked him if he wanted to do an ultra. Thank goodness! F, you are one of my favorite running partners and I thank you for pacing me from Twin Lakes to Treeline/Powerline. I don't remember half those inclines either! Thanks for postponing Hawaii one more week!

Woody - What a guy! You are an excellent motivator and even though you may have been feeding me lines all night, you got a lot out of me and I know I could not have gotten over Sugarloaf as fast as I did with anybody else. I am so sorry that the ultra bug bit you out there. Remeber, I am pacing you next year!! Thank you for having your vacation in Colorado and having Leadville as a part of it.

Michelle - I am so sorry the ultra bug bit Woody out there! I will be apologizing to you for a long time! Michelle, I think you had the worst leg of anybody and I wish I felt better, did not hurt as much, and was in a happier state of mind when you picked me up at May Queen. Your willingness to train and run at altitude with a family and Woody as a husband, meant so much to me and I just couldn't show it then. Thank you!

Gloria & Shelby - Mom and Dad's Arkansas friends ... I think the thin air in Colorado makes us a little crazy. That's my excuse for running a 100 miles! I want to thank you both for coming out and staying up all night to watch this crazy woman run 100 miles in the woods, over mountains, in Leadville! Thank you! Gloria, when I saw you at night on the side of the road by the campsite waving our Pirate Flag, a big smile just lit up my face. Thanks for getting out before dawn to cheer me on!

Josh - I think the world of you for stopping off in Leadville on your way back to college to watch Whitney's crazy mom run Leadville. Of all the people there this weekend, you are the one who probably comes closest to knowing why I run what I run. Thanks for picking me up and pacing after Michelle. That was a thankless stretch. Also, thanks for the best finishing picture EVER!!!

Zach - My gosh Zach! Not only do you come up from the Academy to watch me run; but you bring friends!! I want to thank you for being there and for running back to the truck for my inserts while I was at the aid station with Rick yelling at you to go! go! go! First thing we did when I saw you was give you my stinky, wet shoes and you took them like a champ and stayed with us! I really appreciated you going out to meet Rick and I on the gravel road back into Leadville. Your John Deere shirt will stay with me for awhile!

There! That's the Fabulous Fifteen! I just cannot thank all of you enough for what did for me at Leadville. I tear up everytime I think of the enormity of it all... from flying out, driving out, disrupting vacation plans, to ... everything! Thank you!