“You are stronger than you think you are.” Said the old gentleman
on stage in the gymnasium. His huge gold belt buckle reflected the dim light of
the fluorescent lighting above. Standing in front of us was Ken Chlouber, the
founder and 14 time finisher of the Leadville 100 Trail Race. “Don’t you dare
quit! Hurt lasts a few days, the pain of quitting hurts forever”.
Close to 1,000 people packed the hot stuffy gym to hear the
pre-race talk and last minute instructions for the race they call the “Race
Across the Sky”. With 690 people registered for the 100 mile foot-race, the
vibe in the room had an aura of excitement, nervousness, and just plain “what
was I thinking?” expressionless faces.
I texted the athlete I was supposed to pace when I arrived. A
total stranger several weeks ago, Kristina had signed up for this race as a 35th
birthday present to herself. Not sure my idea of a perfect birthday present
would be paying money to suffer for 100-miles at over 10,000 feet, but to each
their own. I would do whatever it took to get her over 26 of the hardest miles
on the return route.
She greeted me with a hug, and introduced me to her crew which
included a driver, two other pacers, and a few friends that would be dedicated
to helping her reach the finish line. The real work, however, would be up to
her as she fought to keep her mind in a positive state of motivation.
I found out earlier in the day, that she also had a relationship
with Christ. This totally made my day. Her text to me in the morning:
“The steps of a good man are ordered by The Lord, and He delights
in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for The Lord
upholds him with His hand. Ps 37:23 :) He won’t guarantee we won’t stumble, but
He be with us the whole way:) “
I was super stoked to know she came of a place of faith, and that
our partnership in this event was orchestrated by a higher calling.
I gave her a bag of items to keep at the Twin Lakes aid station,
and wished her luck. I would see her in a little more than 24 hours on the
course.
I headed back to town with my friends to play tourist and eat some
food. It was nice knowing that I wasn’t actually racing the following day. My
mind was calm, and I knew what I had to do.
My buddy Seth and I ran a little more than four miles that afternoon to
warm up the legs. The trails around Leadville are so full of history, as you
run through the trees you pass the remains of homes that stood over a century
ago. Once a town of 30,000 people, Leadville now has a mere 2,500 residents and
is fueled by the likes of tourists like me.We had a great dinner at a little pizza shop before heading back to the hotel to try and sleep. The shotgun would go off and the athletes would be starting their race at 4am.
Race Day
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| Sunset after dinner |
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| Winfield Aid Station |
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| Motivation |
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| Winfield Aid Station. Photo Courtesy of Lauren Stechbart |
We cheered on athletes as they made their way into the aid station. Some looked better than others, but the vast majority showed the pain on their faces that Hope Pass had inflicted over the last 10.5 miles. Well, I guess the 40 miles prior to Hope may have added to that pain as well, but the 4,000ft vertical ascent up Hope followed by a steep 2,500-foot descent was the beast that made or broke most leading up to this point.
4:15 came and went. Kristina and Dan were not down the mountain.
At about 5:00, I got nervous that I may have missed her and I made my buddy
Seth go check the board at the aid station to make sure her number was still up
there. Since there was no cell service, the number board was the only way to
tell who had come in and out of the aid station. Since the aid station cut-off
was 6PM, I was getting nervous.
Seth came back to confirm that she was still out there and I was
relieved that I didn’t miss her. I think I may have thrown up if that were the
case.
At around 5:25 PM, I saw her orange shirt and black visor and ran
over to meet her.
“I smell terrible,” were the first words out of her mouth.
“What can I take from you? We are okay on time, but we have to
keep your planned pace in order to make the cutoffs” I replied.
“Here is my pack and my poles” she said, handing me the most God
awful smelling hydration pack and trekking poles. “I am done with this pack,
I’m going to burn it ceremoniously when I get home”
Good idea, I thought as the odor reminded me of old closed up
hockey gear that had never been washed. There is nothing like the smell of old
athletic equipment.
We made our way to the aid station where they weighed her. They
weigh all the athletes at the turn-around to make sure they didn’t lose too
much water and hydration. If an athlete is 20% down on body weight, they make
them sit and hydrate until their weight is back up.
While she was in the tent, Thor from her crew and I filled her
pack with fresh water, got her a couple of cups of hot Ramen, and made sure we
were all set for my leg of the journey.
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| Kristina and I leaving Winfield. Photo Courtesy of Lauren Stechbart |
We briskly walked down the dirt road towards the back side of Hope
Pass. Our goal pace to hit our aid station cut-off at Twin lakes had to be 25:00/mile
overall for this stage. Even though she was off on her goal times by an hour, I
knew we had a good shot at making the cut-offs provided we kept her original
goal pace. I was watching the clock pretty closely though as people always slow
down over the second half of the race.
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| Crowded trail at the base of Hope Pass |
When we hit the base of the climb, I could tell that she was
really hurting. I made sure she had some food and drank some water on steady
intervals, but I watched our average pace drop on my Garmin. At one point we
were above 30 min/mile and I made a few suggestions that we had to keep moving.
This was a tough place for me to be. If I pushed her too hard up the mountain,
she may blow up big time later, if I didn’t push hard enough, we wouldn’t make
the cutoff.
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| The climb begins |
Regardless, I pushed when I could. I broke things down into smaller pieces for her and motivated her to make it to the next landmark before resting again. Switchbacks and trees make good landmarks.
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| Climbing into the Sky |
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| Happy to Summit! |
What seemed like an eternity later we crested the pass and were rewarded by the most scenic sunset you could imagine. 360-degree views graced us with mountains and valleys. Twin Lakes was 4000-feet below us and we knew we had to keep going. The cold wind called for us to put on our jackets as we dropped down the backside of Hope.
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| The pass we just climbed |
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| View of Twin Lakes |
Just before we entered the trees, we saw a man collapse in front of us. Completely unresponsive, he had fainted into the grassy berm on the right side of the trail. We helped roll him over and he came to, not having any idea what was happening. I recognized the guy from the day before when he was telling me and Seth about his goal to go sub-25 hours at the race. Not today buddy.
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| Running through the night |
After the river crossings, we got to the flat marsh and were stuck
behind a long group of walkers, I looked at my watch. We had 10 minutes to make
it about ½ mile.
“Pass these guys Kristina,” I said charging forward scared we
would miss the cut. She moved out around the group and walked about 4 feet
before stumbling into a hole and falling over. Crap.
She got up and swore (at me I’m sure). She was not having any part of my apologies and
shrugged my hand off her shoulder. Obviously, I did not mean for her to fall,
but the anxiety of missing the cut was too much for me to think sanely. I just
pushed on, feeling bad, but focused on the aid station. If we made the cut, she
would forgive me.
We made it to Twin Lakes. Running into the aid station, I saw
Julie, Seth and Lauren and started barking out orders in an effort to make the
cut-off of 9:45 PM. We got some food, and couple of warmer clothing items. During
the mania of it all, I actually slipped and said ‘if we make it to the
hatchery’ as I was talking with Thor about the transfer in 16 miles.
If I could take back one thing all night it would be these words.
It was my job to help her get there, and this doubt was not healthy. This slip,
however, was a turning point for me mentally. I would drive harder and help her
bank as much time as I could before Mile 76 and the hard Powerlines climb that
comes after the Hatchery.
As we passed the exit to the aid station, my watch read 9:45. No
runners behind us would finish the Leadville 100. Talk about cutting it close.
This was a wakeup call for both of us. I am not sure if was
adrenaline or the can of Red Bull we slammed on the way out, but we started to
really move. We averaged about 18 min miles up the steep climb out of twin
lakes and I calculated the time we would need to make the next cutoff. Kristina
asked me about pace. “Keep it here and we will be fine” I replied. I was not
lying. I knew if we pushed 18/min miles uphill, we would be able to run faster
on the downhill. An overall pace of 21 min/mile was all we needed to make the
cutoff. Anything faster was bonus time. I kept the pressure on though. We moved
briskly.
The night was pitch black with our headlamps casting 10-15 feet of
light in front of us. Occasionally I’d see glimmers of headlamps up above us in
the trees so I knew we had a ways to climb. I think this was a good thing
though, as the lack of perspective made it easier to keep a brisk pace. If we
were able to see the entire climb out, it may have made it tougher mentally. My
legs were a bit sore at this point. I never let on that I was in pain, but I
was getting fatigued. My training runs of 3ish hours were not quite enough to
prepare me for this journey. I pressed on though, keeping conversation going.
Conversation was much easier now and we were chatting like old
friends. I was still thinking of stories to tell. Poor girl. She was my captive
audience and I didn’t leave out any details. She was a good sport though and
didn’t seem to care. I could tell she was tired but she was moving pretty well.
There is something incredible about running at night. The dark
trees towered overhead and the stars in the sky were so plentiful that you
could see the Milky Way. The cool air was refreshing on the skin and we moved
ahead. I felt like I was in a dream.
This state of movement was about the norm for the next several
miles. I kept checking my watch, and by the time we hit the Half Moon aid
station at mile 70, we had banked over 40 minutes. We had passed a ton of
people. We got some warm soup at the aid station and charged on ahead.
The single-track trail opened up onto a wide jeep trail and we
pressed forward. The opening in the forest allowed us to see more headlights.
We passed fatigued runners, offered up some words of encouragement and kept
moving. The air began to get cold and I could see my breath in front of me. We
pounded another Red Bull to wake up a bit. Kristina was doing great, but she
was getting cold. She had a jacket on, but I made her throw on an extra shirt
that I had on my bag. I also gave her my gloves as she needed them more than I did. We had two hours to make it 6 miles, and I tried to keep
us around 15 min/mile pace. I knew she would need the time over power lines.
We turned left across the field towards Fish Hatchery and we could
see the lights of the aid station about two miles ahead. The field was littered
with groundhog holes. Landmines for runners. I tripped in a few and tried to
point them out for Kristina. A couple of times I pointed them out and then
tripped into them anyway. It was just that bad out there. Flashlights were all
we had to make the journey.
Kristina was shivering badly by the time we got to Fish Hatchery.
She hit the restroom and I ran to get her some warm fluids and clothing. Julie,
Seth and Lauren were at the aid station waiting but I couldn’t find Thor who
was supposed to be her next pacer.
“Where’s Thor?” I desperately asked. Kristina was still in the
bathroom. “We have not seen him” Julie and Lauren told me.
“Crap! Well if he is not here I have to keep going!” I responded.
Julie just looked at me with a blank expression on her face. “You’ve
been out here 9 hours,” she said
“I have no choice! She needs a pacer!” I said in a panic.
I picked up my cell phone to call Thor. To my relief he picked up surprised
we were already at the aid station. He was there waiting in the shadows, but we
had made up so much time, he was not expecting us so soon.
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| Kristina and I at Fish Hatchery |
I actually shed a tear watching them run off. This was the end of
my journey. I had done my job. Over the last 16 miles, I had helped her bank
over an hour of time ahead of the cutoffs.
I was shivering so badly at this point, I grabbed some soup, Julie
gave me a jacket and I climbed in the car. I felt like I had just finished
another Ironman.
I could not fall asleep when we got back to the hotel. I kept
playing the entire thing back in my mind. The beauty of the scenery, barely
making the Twin Lakes cut, the pure feat Kristina was accomplishing, and the
anxiety of her making the next few cuts kept me awake.
At 6:30 AM I got the text from Thor letting me know she had hit
May Queen. She had about three and a half hours left to run the last 13 miles
of the race. I knew she would have to hold at least a 17 min/mile pace to make
it.
We went to the finish line around 9am. Finishers were coming in
one at a time. Thor had told me where to meet him on the street and that
Kristina wanted us there when she ran to the finish line.
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| Kristina finishing the run |
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| Kristina and her pacers. |
I was crying by now and Kristina gave me the best hug. She was
sobbing as well. The accomplishment was amazing. She had just run 100 miles across
the sky.
“We are all
stronger than we think we are.” ----------------------------------
Thank you Kristina for letting me share in your journey. This
memory will last a lifetime. If I ever decide to try my hand at Leadville, you
will be my pacer for the same miles (hehe). I wish you well in your future journeys
and accomplishments. May life bless you and may you bless others everywhere God
leads. Hebrews 12:1-2
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