Spokes

“I’m not having any fun out here” I cried tearfully with my head hung low and covered up with a towel. As Julie and my crew stood over me, I was emotionally spent from racing toward the front of the Leadville pack for the past 10 hours. “I’ve been alone on the trail all day. I haven’t looked around at the scenery. I’m working my ass off out here and it all hurts. I’m miserable,” I whimpered through my tears. “We get it Tim. You’re doing amazing. This is the first time you have raced a 100-miler at this pace. It’s a different game, but the good news is that now you have pacers to cheer you up and get you back home,” Julie consoled me with a hand on my shoulder. This was Winfield. The dusty ghost town nestled in a valley surrounded by mountain peaks that also marked the ½ way point of the iconic Leadville 100 Trail Run. I had ran up and over the 12,600 foot summit of Hope Pass and I would have to do it all over again if I wanted to see the finish line. ----------------------