Leadville 100

2016 LEADVILLE TRAIL 100 RUN

AUGUST 20^TH – 21^ST

“We’re so unfamiliar with quitting around here we’re not even 

sure how the word is spelled!”                 

 Ken Chlouber, Founder of Leadville Trail Races

Those were the words I heard the day before my Leadville journey started.  During the annual pre-race meeting, Leadville’s founder eloquently charged the 1,000+ people at the Lake County High School gym to “commit, don’t quit!”  Ken must’ve had us repeat it 10x.  As a newby to Leadville, I had no idea what I was in for.  Sure, I studied the route, met with previous Leadville finishers, read blog’s and other “probably-completely-boring-to-non-ultra-runner” articles but I honestly had no real idea.  Ken knew, though.  Historically, one has less than a 50% chance of finishing Leadville.  That’s somewhat typical for 100 milers but being the largest 100 miler in the country, the figure was shocking to me.  I would think every runner would come to Leadville “over prepared” given its status as one of premier ultra-races in the world.  Boy, was I wrong.  By 10 am on Sunday, 52% of the 800 runners called it quits before reaching the finish line.  Thankfully, the words from Ken rang true; I committed and didn’t quit.

 

Leadville is different from all the previous ultra-races I've done.  For starters, the town of Leadville happens to be at 10,200 feet which is the highest incorporated city in America.  The air is thin and the trees are plentiful.  Leadville is beautiful and full of quaint shops, antique stores, and coffee shops.  Harrison Street (the main street in town) reminds me of a movie set with historic Victorian buildings lining the street for several blocks.  The race itself is an out and back course.  Run 50 miles then turn around and run back.  The good news is you know the course.  The bad news is you know the course.  Hope Pass is at mile 45 and then again at 55.  More on that nightmare later.

On August 20^th, our alarm in the tiny cabin in the woods went off at 2:15 am.  Yes, 2:15 am!  The race started at 4 am and our place was about 30 minutes from town.  Not much sleep and I was already tired before I took a step.  In the dark, Meggin and I got ready for what would be an adventure of a lifetime.  Meggin was almost as nervous as me.  She was my lone crew and was scared of missing me at an aid station, getting lost on the way to an aid station, and the many emotions a wife must feel when their husband is about to get to the brink of physical and mental possibility. I knew she would be fine but she wasn’t convinced.  Though Meg wasn’t running the race, she was going to be alongside me the whole way and was going to be up all night.  It was going to be a long day for both us.

The plan was to drop me off at the start line at 3:15 am.  Coincidentally, a friend of mine was running the race as well.  Darrel and I met through a few mutual friends a couple months before Leadville.  We had the chance to run together at home and were similar paces.  Our race plan was also somewhat similar so it made sense to start the race together.  Having Darrell and his family in Leadville turned out to be providential for Meggin.  Since our projected times at the aid stations were similar, we planned for Meg and the Schultz’s to sit together.  They not only sat together but truly cared for Meggin through the day and night.  She couldn’t have crewed me without their help and care.  As a result, they have become lifelong friends of ours.  Funny how an ultra-marathon can do that. 

Meg dropped me off at 3:15 am and I met Darrell shortly thereafter.  We were both very excited for the day and were excited to experience Leadville.  Race morning was cold, about 38 degrees or so, but thankfully the forecast was clear.  Oftentimes, it rains in Leadville.  Often I mean daily.  It rains a lot.  However, the skies were clear and there were no clouds anywhere in sight.  As the start time came closer, the nerves started.  I second guessed my fitness, my ability to cope with the altitude, the ability to even finish.  100 miles in the mountains is a long way.  Honestly, I wasn’t sure of anything.

Moments before the race started, Ken repeated the mantra, “Commit, don’t quit!  I’ll be here waiting for you with a finisher medal to put around your neck!”  Ken was passionate and serious.  Promptly at 4 am, the race was on!  Darrell and I eased into a pace in the first few miles averaging 7:45 – 8 minute per mile.  The race starts downhill for the first 7 miles then veers onto a rolling single track around Turquoise Lake for another 6.5 miles.  It was pitch black outside and headlamps were a must.  Darrell and I were running towards the front of the pack and feeling very comfortable.  The altitude and cold were non-issues.  About 3 miles after we hit Turquoise Lake, I passed a few runners and Darrell didn’t follow.  Prior to the race, we told each other that we would run our own races and if the pacing was the same we would stay together.  For about a mile prior, I was running on the heels of a guy who was farting continuously (no joke).  As you can imagine, I was not a fan and at the first chance, I was going to pass he and another runner who was just in front of him.  I did just that and didn’t see Darrell again till mile 52 ish.  At 5:55 am, I rolled into May Queen Outbound aid station, almost exactly to when I told Meg I would arrive.  It was still dark out which proved to be a small problem.  I couldn’t find Meggin.  After a minute of running up and down the crew area, I finally found her and Darrell’s folks.  It was a mad house there.  So many people eagerly awaiting their runners.  After a quick refueling, I was off again.  Next stop was Outward Bound at mile 24.5.

It was just before 6 am and the morning light was coming.  I still had my headlamp on and the temperature was hovering at 40 degrees but it was comfortable.  Just outside May Queen, the path lead up an asphalt road.  It was the first real climb of the day.  Not much but a nice change to the downhill running before.  After the asphalt the trail lead to a single track and more climbing.  This was a really nice section.  I ran with the 3^rd and 4^th place women for several miles here and I could tell they were very strong runners.  Both had Salomon kits on which meant sponsored by Salomon which meant they were fast.  After about 3 miles they took off.  I continued on and finally made it to the crest of the hill which later in the day served as the craziest aid station I have ever seen.  Ever.  Turns out after the crest, I was running down the infamous “Powerline” section – a 3.5 mile downhill section that has deep 3’ ruts in the middle.  It’s a very technical fire road that makes the runner jump from side to side the entire way down.  I enjoy descending and made quick work of it.  Before I knew it I was on an asphalt road with the Outward Bound aid station in view.  After 3 miles on the road, I turned into Outward Bound and immediately spotted Meggin.  The sun was out and it was getting warmer.  I quickly changed shirts, gave Meg my jacket and headlamp, and refueled.  After about 5 minutes, I was off.  25 miles done in just under 4 hours.  I was right on schedule.

Through the arch at the end of the aid station, the route made its way on a mowed uneven section of grass.  I was not a fan but the views were absolutely stunning.  Surrounded by mountains and epic scenery.  After a few miles of grass, I was back on the asphalt for a few more miles.  Then the race veered onto a fire road before hitting Treeline which was an unofficial aid station in the middle of nowhere.  I ran through the cheers before finally hitting Half Pipe and mile 31.  Out of the 31 miles, I ran most of them.  I was averaging 9:38 minute miles and feeling very good.  After Half Pipe the trail continued on a flat fire road then down a steeper fire road to the largest aid station of the race – Twin Lakes and mile 40. 

Twin Lakes acts as the main hub for crew and sits at the base of Hope Pass.  I arrived at 10:45 am and wouldn’t see Meggin again till almost 6 pm.  The halfway point at Winfield is nearly impossible for crew to get to and thus the majority of crew wait for their runners at Twin Lakes.  Knowing I wouldn’t see Meg for so long, I had to bring enough fuel and clothes for the 20 mile round trip. I also heard that Hope Pass can be cold so I brought a jacket, beanie, and gloves.  I was prepared for a solo 50k by the time I left Twin Lakes.

After 40 miles of running, I was actually ready to hike a bit.  Just after Twin Lakes the trail goes through another mowed section of grass until the river’s edge.  In some years, the river is at waist height.  Thankfully, it was a low year and was just up to my knees.  It was the first water section of the race and the water was frigid.  It took about 5 minutes to feel my feet after I crossed.  Once I crossed the river, the trail quickly gained altitude.  It wasn’t switch backs but was straight up single track.  There was water coming down the middle of the trail and it was steep.  The power hiking quickly turned to just hiking and the 9 minute miles I had run for so long turned to 24 minute miles.  I was starting to feel the effects of 7 hours of running but knew the day hadn’t really begun.  Hope Pass was living up to the hype that I’d heard from so many people.  After an hour of hiking I finally made it to Hope Pass aid station.  I was tired but didn’t stay long.  I passed the eating llamas and then was passed by the race leader, Max King.  He was at mile 55 and I was at 45.  Hard to fathom he was that far ahead already.  After another mile, I finally summited Hope Pass at 12,600 feet.  The views were absolutely insane.  I had never been that high before and the pain of the climb was worth every step.  Plus, the weather was incredible.  Probably 50-55 degrees and clear skies.  On the back side of Hope Pass, the trail was so steep it was hard to run.  I was ready to stretch the legs but feared I would trip and fall off the side.  I settled for a slow run.  At this point, the elite runners were starting to make their way up Hope Pass from Winfield.  One by one they came.  I figured I was running in 50^th or so place by the time I reached mile 50. 

To my surprise, Winfield was a lot bigger than I expected.  There was a great energy and a lot of people milling all around.  Hope Pass took a lot out of me and I knew I needed help getting back up.  As soon as I reached the aid station, I asked the staff if there were any pacers available.  They called on the loud speaker and to my excitement, Stu the pacer extraordinaire showed up.  Stu’s runner fell early on and had to drop.  So that made Stu available.  His car was at Outward Bound (mile 75.5) and he hadn’t found a ride back.  Perfect timing.  Actually, it was God’s timing.  I had been praying a few miles before Winfield that a pacer would be able to help. In walks Stu! 

Stu was great.  He had run Leadville twice and finished under 25 hours which was my goal.  Stu had the knowledge and experience I needed.  Stu was also the most positive person I had ever met.  With him, I knew I could get through Leadville and knew I could enjoy it along the way.  I made it to Winfield at 2:20 pm and 10 hours 21 minutes into the race.  I was doing well but about 30 minutes behind schedule.  I had my work cut out and was entering the most difficult part of the race.  Turns out, the most difficult climb of my life.

Turning around at Winfield and traversing back the way I came was daunting mentally.  All those early downhill miles started to play back in my mind.  Coming back to town they would be all uphill and it would be well past midnight.  Stu quickly got my head straight and we started the trek back.  For 2+ miles the trail was rolling and quite pleasant.  I was able to run on the flatter portions but had to hike the uphills.  The trail was super crowded as runners were coming down into Winfield as we were going out.  It seemed every few feet we were moving from side to side and saying the obligatory, “Great job, keep pushing” to every single runner.  One of those runners was my buddy, Darrell.  I hadn’t seen him since Turquoise Lake.  It was great to see a familiar face.  He looked good and seemed to be in good spirits.  After a moment, we shared a few words and we off our separate ways.  That was the last I would see of Darrell till Sunday.  The rolling section ended and the climbing back up Hope Pass started.  I thought climbing up the front side was hard.  The back side was insane - 20% grade for 2.5 miles.  2.5 miles doesn’t sound like a lot but trust me, at that grade, it’s forever.  I averaged 30 minute miles and rarely stopped.  I was sweating more than ever and barely moving.  Stu kept saying that I was on a great pace and don’t worry about the many many runners that were passing me (as an aside, a pacer’s duty is to keep his runner positive and upbeat and moving forward).  I knew Stu was lying but I embraced the encouragement and kept moving.  By the time I reached the summit, my quads were on fire.  I wasn’t sure if they would allow me to run down Hope Pass and back into Twin Lakes.  Fortunately, I was able to muster a 15 minute pace down the front side, through the river again, and then into Twin Lakes aid station.  This time around we were at mile 60 and it was 6 pm.  Miraculously, I was back on schedule.  It was so good to see Meggin and the Schultz family.  I hadn’t see Meggin in 7+ hours and I needed a few minutes with her to get me back mentally.  Also, the Tailwind nutrition that I was drinking all day was starting to not taste good.  I knew I needed it but it was hard to drink.  Good news was my stomach was great and not upset at all. 

After a change of shoes, socks, and shirt, Stu and I were off to Half Pipe.  The first part was all uphill.  I hiked this entire section hoping to get my legs back for the long level portion before and after Half Pipe.  I was able to run a bit but not what I wanted.  Stu and I would run for 2 minutes then walk for 1.  Run for 2 then walk for 1.  We repeated that for several miles until we reached Half Pipe at 8:12 pm and mile 69.  The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping.  Thankfully, I had the gear I needed and started to layer up.  Unfortunately, Stu didn’t have any warm clothes until Tree Line which was only about 2.5 miles away.  Once we reached Treeline, Stu’s crew (from his scheduled runner) was there.  It was nice to stop for a few minutes.  By this time, it was pitch black out and cold.  I was still in shorts but was warm.  The next 3-4 miles to Outward Bound was mostly downhill.  I was able to run a bit but definitely not moving well.  My quads were in pain and I was just trying to survive.  Stu really believed that if I kept moving, I would finish in under 25 hours.  I wasn’t so sure.  We finally made it to Outward Bound at 9:48 pm.  I had been running for almost 18 hours and feeling the effects of it.  Stu’s day was done.  He was pivotal in my journey and without him, I’m not sure I finish.  The power of positivity is something I knew was real but it became cemented with Stu. 

At Outward Bound, I bundled up with sweats, a beanie, gloves, and jacket.  It was probably below 40 degrees already and I knew the night was just beginning.  Stu had prepped me for this next section.  It was basically the last climb of the day and was notorious for kicking the behind of most runners.  The Powerline climb was difficult early in the day as a downhill.  Uphill, though, it was a whole different deal. 

I was all alone now.  Stu asked if I wanted him to find a pacer for me.  I said no thinking that the pacer would just be bored walking the last 25 miles.  Obviously, I wasn’t going to walk the entire way but my body and legs were telling me otherwise.  The first several miles after Outward Bound was on an asphalt road around the fish hatchery.  Much earlier in the day I was running this section at 8 minute pace.  Now, at just after 10 pm I could barely run.  I was doing the 2 minute on, 1 minute off until I hit the fire road to Powerline.  At that point, it was all mental.  I kept my head down and charged (slowly) up the hill.  Other than being passed by one runner, I was all alone.  It was actually beautiful out.  The stars were in full view and my breath was visible.  I was never cold but it was certainly cold out.  About a mile from the summit of Powerline, I heard a loud horn.  The runner and her pacer that passed me asked if I had ever done Leadville before.  I said no and they chuckled about what was coming at the summit.  About 25 minutes later, I started seeing blue balloons in the trees and light sticks on the ground.  Music was increasing in volume as I approached the make shift aid station.  When I arrived, I was the sole runner.  There were about 20 or so people dancing around with lights shining everywhere.  There were brownies to eat (I dared not try them) and plenty of beer to drink.  It was a wild scene and a great respite to the pain of Powerline.  The hippy people were having a great time and their excitement was palpable.  After a drink of water (seriously) and some chips, I was off.  The next section is absolutely runnable; mostly downhill fire roads to a single track.  After 80 miles and wrecked quads, I wasn’t doing much running unfortunately.  I ran slowly.  I walked even slower.  I contemplated where I had been and why I was in such pain.  In that state, though, I never wanted to quit.  I did want to finish but knew I still had a number of hours before that was a reality.  After a very slow 5 miles, I made it to the last aid station and mile 86.5 – May Queen Inbound.  It was 1:36 am. 

I sat for a bit with Meg and tried to gather myself for the final 13.5 miles to the finish.  It was about 35 degrees out and Meg was freezing.  I could tell it had been a long day for her.  She encouraged me to keep going and that the 25 hour buckle was still possible.  I had a little under 3 ½ hours to go 13.5 miles.  While I’m writing this it sounds ridiculous.  Earlier in the day I did almost 25 miles in basically the same time.  However, that was on fresh legs and strong quads.  After 86.5 miles, there was nothing fresh.  I was tired and worn out and couldn’t run at all. 

I left May Queen and started the long trek around Turquoise Lake.  I was able to run for a mile or so before giving in to the pain and resigned to walking.  I was averaging 18 minute miles and knew breaking 25 hours was going to be a challenge.  The route along the lake seemed to take forever.  It did.  After 7 miles I finally reached the road to Leadville.  Unfortunately, I knew the last 6.5 miles were all uphill.  Normally, I would easily be able to run this grade but I had long given up on that a few hours back.  I walked and walked and walked and finally reached Lake County High School.  I could hear the finish line and I could see the lights.  I was about 2 miles away.

I remember from the day before thinking that it would be amazing if I could run down 6^th street straight to the red carpet that greets the runners before the finish.  What a great feeling it would be to see Meg and the crowds waiting.  In actuality, Meg was there but the crowds were not.  It was 5:25 am and cold.  There were not more than 10 people at the finish.  I vaguely remember the announcer welcoming me home but definitely remember Ken placing the finisher’s medal around my neck.  I walked straight to Meg, gave her a hug and a kiss, and basically collapsed on her.  After 25 hours, 25 minutes, and 16 seconds, my journey was over and I was officially a Leadville 100 Trail finisher.  I was part of the Leadville family.  In that moment, the sense of accomplishment wasn’t present at all.  That would come later.  All I wanted was a hot shower and a bed. 

Less than 5 minutes after finishing, Meg and I were back in the car on the way to our cabin.  Our day was over and our journey complete.

Leadville by far was the hardest race of my life.  It didn’t go quite as I planned but by God’s grace and favor and Meg and Stu’s help and encouragement I was able to finish it.  For that, I am deeply thankful and proud. 

Experiencing Leadville with Meggin was a dream and a memory that I will never forget.  Our time away was in celebration of 22 years of marriage.  I don’t believe it was the vacation Meg was thinking of but the many hours spent together and the pain and agony of a 100 mile race was the type of bonding that makes a marriage even stronger.  I love Meg more than ever and I can’t wait for our next adventure together.

Leona Divide 50 Mile - "Joy in the suffering"

LEONA DIVIDE 50 MILE

APRIL 16, 2016

Finding joy and contentment in ALL things is a tall task.  Lately I’ve been striving to do just that.  Life certainly throws curve balls and is tough, but choosing joy over sadness and contentment over envy is a choice.

As in life, my running has been a struggle at times.  Sure, I’m dedicated as ever to go out 6-7 days a week but each time is a mental hurdle.  Why?  I’m in the best shape of my life but why does it still hurt?  Maybe because suffering is just part of it.  Some suffer more than others and some, like me, choose it.

Such is the case with my latest race, the Leona Divide 50 mile.  Over the years, I’ve heard of Leona but it never fit into my schedule.  Thankfully, the timing was right this year and thankfully, I chose to sign-up.

My training leading up to Leona was very good.  After the LA Marathon in February, I took a short, very short, break and then got back to it.  My coach, Chris Vargo, prepared a great plan which I followed nearly 100%.  By April 16^th, I was more than ready.  My goal was to break 9 hours.  My previous best at the 50 mile distance was 9:59:11 at Sean O’Brien in 2014 (I did run a 9:59:21 at the Bighorn 52 mile last June but technically not a 50 mile).  The goal was lofty but attainable given my conditioning and mental growth.

After a sleepless night on April 15^th, the morning of April 16^th came very early.  I woke up at 3 am to get prepared to leave at 4.  The race started at 6 in Green Valley which is a little over an hour from Pasadena just outside of Santa Clarita.  Rob, my running buddy, picked me up in the dark and we were on our way.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous.  I’ve heard Leona is not as difficult as Sean O’Brien and I was in way better shape now.  Probably, the wrong frame of mind to be in.  Every race, especially an ultra, is difficult.  A healthy dose of nervousness is good.  As soon as you think you have it all figured out, the DNF bug will bite you.

We arrived just after 5 am and headed over to get our bib and race t-shirt.  I was bib 72.  It was a bit cold out, probably low 50’s, but the forecast had the temps rising to the mid-70’s which is really hot for trail running.  Runners were in tank tops and short sleeved shirts but I hate the cold and wore my Patagonia Houdini jacket.  I’m a total wimp when it comes to weather.

Since the start line was surrounded by homes, the race was a “quiet start”.  Meaning no gun just a quiet countdown from 5-4-3-2-1.  We were off a few minutes after 6 am.  It was still dark but the sun was coming.  Preparing for the race, Rob told me the first few miles were uphill on an asphalt road.  Rob said that if I wanted a good time, I should run fast to get in front of the crowd before the road veered off to the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), the single track where majority of the race would be held.  I did as Rob suggested and started off quicker than I would normally do for an ultra.

After a few miles, the pack was off the road and onto a fire road.  I felt great and was just off the lead group.  Just before 3 miles, a small aid station appeared and the PCT started at the crest of the hill.  Nobody stopped and we were off downhill.  It was nice to finally open the stride after 25 minutes of uphill running.  At the crest, the wind picked up and I was glad I wore the jacket.  In fact, I wouldn’t take the jacket off until mile 17.5.  The PCT is a great trail.  Not too technical and incredible views from every direction.  The trail seemed to be all downhill at this section.  Before I knew it, the next aid station appeared at mile 8.6.  It was the turnaround for the 30k and 50k runners.  Prior to this point, I didn’t know who was a 30k, 50k or 50 mile runner.  With 3 distances, the race was very large (probably 500+).  After a quick refueling and short break (I hadn’t stopped running since the start), I crossed the road and the amount of runners really thinned out.  The trail here also seemed to go mostly downhill and being a newby, I had no idea where the trail was headed.  After an hour or so, I finally realized the trail was out and back.  I saw the lead runner and then 2^nd place, 3^rd place, and so on.  In my estimation, I was in 10^th place and made it to mile 17.5 about 2 hours 51 minutes after I started.  This was the turnaround point for this section.  The next aid station was 9 miles away and 4,200 feet of climbing.  All the downhill to get here meant the exact opposite.  It was 9 am and still brisk but very windy. In fact, my hat blew off a few times. I refueled my bottles and picked at salted potatoes and chips before heading out. 

The course courtesy of my Suunto watch

I left the aid station in 10^th place but quickly dropped to 11^th when the eventual ladies winner, Rachel Ragona, passed me.  I talked with her a bit but she was on a mission.  I was so impressed with her climbing ability.  I was power hiking up the first section and so was she until a 2^nd lady passed us on the way down to the aid station.  She looked at her watch and said I have a 1 minute lead.  At that point, she was off like a rocket. I never saw her again. 

Eventually, I would be passed by 7 other runners along the course.  I’m competitive but in a race as long as a 50 miler, you have to run your own race.  If you get caught up in the “racing” and run beyond your capabilities, the last 10-20 miles will be a suffer fest.  Thankfully, I’m mature enough to know my abilities and kept plugging away.

I finally made it to mile 26 and just over halfway in 4 hours 30 minutes.  I was the only one at the aid station which is always a good feeling.  I also had on my Angeles Crest 100 Finisher shirt and a few of the volunteers were complimenting me on the finish.  It was an instant boost to my confidence.

After this aid station, the trail continued its climb up to the crest where the PCT started early on in the morning.  I passed quite a few runners along this section but they were going down as I was going up.  This would be the trend all day.  As I mentioned previously, with 500+ runners along the same basic route, the trail was crowded at times.  Not a huge deal but I must have said “Good Job” 100+ times.  Ultrarunners are very friendly and if you don’t encourage others along the way, it’s bad form.  Plus, I was able to see Rob a few times which was a huge positive.

Again, being new to Leona, I didn’t know where I was.  After the infamous Leona Divide sign and bench, the trail opened up and I could see exactly where I was headed; up, up, and up then down, down, and down.  Sadly, it was another out and back section.  I saw the eventual men’s winner, Jesse Haynes, pass me as I was headed up.  He was many miles ahead and running fast.  It was just past 12 noon and starting to get hot.  The trail was exposed, dusty, and full of runners.  I finally made it to the bottom and mile 38 in just under 7 hours.  There were several 50k runners at the aid station but no 50 milers.  I spent about 1 minute refueling, then quickly left.  I was tired and exhausted and knew if I waited any longer, it would be tough to get going again.  I grabbed 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and started the climb back up.  I finally saw another 50 mile runner after 10 minutes of climbing.  I knew at that point that whatever place I was in was the place I was going to finish.  I was right.  I never saw another 50 mile runner until the finish line. 

It was slow going up the hill (i.e., 20 minute per mile pace) but eventually, I made it to the top and started to run again only to reach the bottom and then up to another crest.  So many 30k and 50k runners here.  It was constant shuffling and moving back and forth.  Again, I passed the Leona Divide sign and up and over rolling hills to the final aid station.  Yes, the same station I saw at mile 3, 31, and now 46.  There were a ton of runners here at this point.  It was festive but very hot.  It was about 2:20 pm.  Great news is I was only 3+ miles away from finishing my 10^th ultra and even greater news, it was mostly downhill.  I ran hard here knowing the end was just a 5k or one loop around the Rose Bowl away.

Finally, the asphalt road.  It had been over 8 ½ hours since I veered off this to the PCT. 

After 8:48:28, I crossed the finish line in 19^th place.  It never gets old finishing a race especially an ultramarathon.  It also never gets old when you accomplish your goal.  I set out to break 9 hours and did so with 12 minutes to spare. 

Turns out Leona Divide is not that easy with almost 9,000 feet of climbing.  I should’ve given it more respect and was humbled multiple times along the way.  I wanted to stop but kept telling myself it will be worth it.  One step at a time.  Don’t look ahead.  Don’t complain.  Yada, yada, yada.

Thankfully, I didn’t give in and the finish line never felt better.  Of course, I was physically a mess and bee lined it to the nearest bench but my soul and heart were fulfilled.  It was a great day in the mountains. 

There is great joy in the suffering.  Maturity, growth, sense of accomplishment, greater self-esteem, are all there for the taking.  Be content in the moment.  Be thankful for whatever life is dealing.  Choose joy.

LA Marathon - Finally!

“…I have finished the course, I have kept the faith…” 2 Timothy 4:7

Ok, I know I completely took the passage from 2 Timothy out of context but that is exactly how I felt after I crossed the finish line at the Los Angeles Marathon on February 14^th.  I vividly remember thanking God for the strength and mental toughness to have finished the race.  As I laid in a fetal position on the asphalt on Ocean Blvd. I couldn’t help but be reminded of how I doubted myself so many times.  “Was I capable of breaking the 3 hour barrier?”  Well, the doubts were squashed!  I finally did it.  I ran a 2:59:37.  Good for 165th place out of 20,609 finishers.  Unbelievable!

Memories of my 1^st marathon back in 2009 have been in the forefront this week.  I ran a 3:40 at the inaugural Pasadena Marathon on a rainy, cold day.  I felt pain unlike any other but also felt a sense of tremendous accomplishment.  Back then, I was just “making up” the training schedule with absolutely zero direction other than some online tools.  I ran 3-4 days per week and thought 20-25 miles per week was a lot.  I did no speed or hill work and had no sense of what I was capable of.  It is hard to fathom that 7 years and some 40 races later (15 marathons) that my body and mind are in a different place.  I wonder what the next 7 years will bring.

The training leading up to LA was very difficult.  As I wrote in my January blog, the training was more than any other race I had run.  Chris, my coach, was systematically increasing the miles each week to get my body and mind ready.  He started the cycle in mid-October and by mid-February, I was more than ready.

 
Race morning felt similar to other race mornings.  Craig had organized a ride from his home in Glendale to Dodger stadium and also planned out a ride home from Santa Monica.  Craig’s planning meant no worries for me (a key mental component that pays off in the race).  All I had to do was show up at his place by 5:15 am.  Craig, Tom, and I arrived at Dodger Stadium around 5:45 am and were welcomed by some 21,000 runners who were stretching, eating, and mentally getting prepared for the run ahead.
 
Craig had also purchased VIP tickets for us to gain access to a private tent with its own bathrooms and light breakfast.  After a 30 minute walk all over Dodger Stadium (nobody actually knew where the tent was), we arrived by happenstance and the light breakfast was gone and the bathroom lines were just as long as the others.  Total joke.  All we got was a to-go water bottle.  The $80 bottle as Tom suggested.
 
After a few minutes in the tent and a heartfelt prayer from Craig, I was off to my corral.  One of the benefits of being in a race prior and running a decent time was that I was able to start in the 1^st corral with the big guns.  I arrived at 6:30 and saw a few familiar faces (Sean, Anthony, some ultra guys) and enjoyed some nice conversation with them.  At 6:35, the wheel chair race started followed by the elite women at 6:45.  I was only a few feet away from them and was surprised that there were only 6 women.  Seemed like a very small group.  At 6:50, the elite men came out.  Again a small group of 10+ or so.  The shocking thing to me was these guys were not much bigger than me.  The Kenyan runners looked fierce and focused.  Super thin and not tall but they carried themselves with confidence.  You knew they were fast just by the way they walked around.  It was neat to see them up close.  At 6:55, the gun went off and it was go time.
 
After my normal prayer, I started about 10 seconds later and quickly got into a rhythm.  I wanted to run 6:30 pace for the first few miles to get the legs and body warmed up (counterintuitive to start fast but I knew I needed a jumpstart if I was going to break 3 hours).  I ran 6:30 pace through the 5k mark and was feeling good.  The weather was perfect, low 50’s, which was a nice change to the forecast of hotter temps. 
 
As the course meandered through downtown, the miles kept going.  I vividly remember seeing mile 4 and was shocked that I had already gone so far.  It really seemed like the race had just started but my watch said about 26 minutes had passed.  Running a race is a strange thing.  26.2 miles seems far but when you’re in the middle of it, the miles come and go so quickly.  It’s hard to be in the moment and enjoy it all.  Part of it, I’m sure, is the body’s response to the pain; “Just get me through it!”, “How much longer?”  At any rate, I tackled the first hill up towards Disney Concert Hall and started to slow a bit which was part of my plan.  After 10k, I was averaging 6:35 pace and right on target.  I wanted to be between 6:38 and 6:42 and was well below that.
 
My body was responding well to all the training.  At the 20k mark which was just under halfway, I was maintaining a 6:41 pace and felt great.  I was 1:23:09 into the race and had definitely found my rhythm.  The course was awesome and the weather was still holding.  Somewhere between this point and the 30k mark, I noticed my watch was off.  The plan from the outset was to place my watch in Average Pace mode and keep it there.  I wasn’t concerned with the Mile Mode (there are mile markers everywhere) or the Time Mode.  My only concern was the Pace (between 6:38 – 6:42 or 2:55 marathon time).  At the 30k mark, I changed modes and noticed my watch said 20.54 miles instead of 20 miles which I had just passed.  I didn’t really think anything of it because courses are off all the time.  Courses are measured from the quickest possible way.  If you run in the middle of the street and take wide turns, you will always run a longer marathon.  Mindful of that, I tried to run the inside of the street and cut the corners right at the curb.  Even doing that, my watch was off.  What I realized after the race and should have realized at 30k, was that the pace I was on was off as well.  My watch said 6:37 pace at 30k when it was actually 6:45 pace.  I thought I had been banking time for 20 miles!  Unfortunate because I would have pushed hard to maintain sub 6:40.  Regardless, I kept moving.
 
Most marathoners will tell you that the race really starts after 20 miles.  Not sure why but it certainly feels that way.  The body changes for some reason and makes the last 6 miles oftentimes regretful.  Regretting why you signed up in the first place.  Why you even run at all.  Why are you so dumb?  Etc.  Etc.  Etc.  Those thoughts pierced my mind but I quickly worked through them and kept going.  The Average Pace on my watch starting moving upwards and it seemed each mile gained another second or two.  6:37, 6:38, 6:40.  By the time I was on the downward side of San Vicente at mile 24, I was at 6:42 pace and starting to wane.  Fortunately, a few runners that I had been running with most of the day were starting to pull away.  Knowing that if I didn’t keep up with them I would fold, I managed to find another gear.  I not only kept up with them, I passed them and knew at that point I was going to make my goal. 
 
As I turned the corner from San Vicente to Ocean, the finish line was getting close.  I was still at 6:42 pace.  It was foggy in Santa Monica and a bit cold.  I was tired and ready to stop.  I saw my buddy, Hunt, on the way to the finish and he was a huge encouragement.  Just enough to keep me moving. 
Finally, the finish line was in view.  Sadly, it was not at all what I expected.  The 6:42 pace my watch said was completely wrong.  The announcer at the finish said, “30 seconds to the 3 hour mark!”  What in the world??!  Immediately, I held my breath, it seemed, and sprinted towards the finish.  I was not going to let my watch mishap mess up all the work I’d just done.  I broke the line at 2:59:47, which was adjusted down to 2:59:37 due to the 10 second start delay.  I was completely exhausted and completely excited.  I finally accomplished something I never thought possible.  The frustrating part was I actually ran a lot faster.  My watch later said I ran 26.75 miles at a 6:42 pace.  It didn’t matter.  I did it.

What a day.  What an experience.  I’m so thankful to God who loves me no matter if I run or not.  I’m thankful to a family who cheers me on no matter the time or the place I get.  I’m thankful for great friends who I get to run with.  I’m thankful for a great coach in Chris Vargo who developed a plan and got me in the best shape of my life.

The takeaway - all things are possible.  I’m living proof that if you put your mind to something, commit to training for it, and then believe in it, it can happen.

Next up – the Leona Divide 50 mile on April 16^th.  Excited to get back on the trails after a 2 month hiatus.