Sooo, I did that thing where people run really far for no reason and then have this epiphany about life, the universe, and everything (the answer is actually 42), and commit to the ultra running lifestyle for the betterment of humanity... except, that didn't really happen.
On Saturday, August 19th, 2023, I ran the 40th running of the Leadville Trail 100 Run in Leadville, CO. - the highest elevation city in North America, at 10,200ft. It was truly everything it is said to be: difficult, beautiful, mountainous, with a palpable sense of family with its founders, Ken and Merilee, who refer to you as their children, still at the forefront (they sold the race to Lifetime Fitness in 2010) and ready to bring you in for a big old hug.
Before we begin with the race, allow me to tell you how I got here.
THE LAST TWO YEARS
Completing a marathon in every state in under 3 hours was a HUGE accomplishment for me. I never thought it would consume me the way it had. For 12 years, I persevered through all the challenges, I adapted to all sorts of climates and terrains, dealt with myriad injuries, adjusted my training and execution as needed. When it was done, a skillset materialized: I am tenacious. I am committed to completing difficult things. DNF is NOT in my DNA. Most importantly, I really enjoy endurance running. Upon completing that goal at the end of 2021, I was at a crossroad; what could I do with those skills now?
Enter, the ultra. I had run the Ice Age Trail 50-mile race in 2015. It went well, I had a top 10 finish, but it didn't turn me into a fully committed single track trail ultra runner who eschews road running; all terrains are fun to me and I dislike that cliquey, niche attitude that often comes with the trail community. Being in the middle of my 50 states goal didn't provide much opportunity to entertain ultras, and when I did finish, I bought a road bike. THAT is fun!
But it's not the same. So, I went back to a crazy thought I had with some runner friends years ago... to run Leadville. Except in 2015, we entered the lottery on a sort of drunken dare. We didn't get in, luckily; I wasn't ready. But this time I was, and I found a way to guarantee my entry: Leadville Summer Run Camp.
In the summer of 2022, I ran the Pikes Peak Double - the Ascent (up Pikes Peak 14,115ft via the Barr Trail - a total gain of 7,800ft) on Saturday and the Marathon (up the peak then back down) on Sunday, to assess my fitness and get a taste of those climbs and elevation. I had a top 10 finish and was the only person from sea level in the top 10. This gave me confidence about Leadville and the possibility of running it in under 25 hours to get the big belt buckle (under 30 hours gets you a regular belt buckle and is the race cutoff time).
 |
| Big, little, equally badass |
The Leadville Summer Run Camp is a 3-day weekend at the end of June. We arrived on Thursday late afternoon for a bit of acclimation. LRC had 4 runners and 3 friends & pacers commit to the camp. This not only provided us a guaranteed entry to the race but it was the highlight of the entire experience. We rented a helluva cool house in Leadville for our Friday evening, Saturday & Sunday morning runs that would guide us through most of the race route, giving us valuable experience of what to expect come race day.
 |
| The LRC Seven Pack at camp: Rob, Matt, Stephen, Luke, Laurie, Me, Jeremy |
...and then Jeremy (Luke's pacer) broke his wrist on the last day, up Hope Pass. We were 8 weeks out from the race.
...and I got plantar fasciitis after camp, then crashed my road bike, 4 weeks out from the race.
THE TRAINING
My training for this was like marathon training but with more recovery pace (8-9 minutes per mile, keeping my heart rate just below 120). I started building 20 weeks out and ran a lot of road with a weekly alternating speed workout and hill workout, averaging 70 miles per week. 150 weekly cycling miles aided in recovery and provided an alternate workout to tune my climbing legs.
I refused to used trekking poles, my legs were going to do all the work... but I wasn't going to the gym or doing squats and lunges or anything like that. The only mountain ultra-specific training I was doing was the occasional trail run, running the Ice Age Trail 50-Mile Race in May, and staging 3 overnight runs with the group. For the later half of June and most of July, I was putting in 20-25 hours per week.
Here's the thing... you have to be both physically and mentally tough, especially going into this from sea level. Approaching your training like a lazy midwestern ultra runner practicing walk/run or walking all the hills, won't put you at your best. My approach was to get my running fitness as high as I could, letting my watch's VO2Max give me some indication. Your fitness will take a 15-30% hit at that elevation. For example, mine dropped from 67 a week before to 57 at the race.
The Ice Age Trail 50-mile race (14 weeks before Leadville) served as an unofficial, completely unscientific, formula input for a Leadville race predictor. I hypothesized that a sea level runner should multiply their IAT50 finish time by 3, then add 1 hour. I totally made that shit up but it seemed reasonable. I ran it against a few friend's past results and it wasn't wrong. This put me at 24 hours and 42 minutes... BIG BELT BUCKLE range.
With that goal in mind and a fresh cortisone shot in my heel, I began the drive to Colorado on August 10th so that I could acclimate for a week. No fun was had. Ok, maybe a lot.
 |
| The Manitou Incline - good taper activity, I think |
 |
| Don't fart in the Mollie Kathleen Gold Mine! |
 |
| Really cool AirBnB find |
 |
| Another cool stay |
 |
| Roadside bathing? |
 |
| Shower? Hot Sulphur Springs Resort |
 |
| Fine tuning my Leadville race meals |
 |
| Not quite acclimated but a week in the mountains was nice |
The group went to the Leadville Legacy Foundation dinner at Freight on Thursday, August 17th. This foundation provides scholarships to each Lake County High School graduate, covering the cost of a 2-year community college program. As a recipient of a similar program and graduate of community college, I appreciate this. I also appreciate lots of food and a live band.
 |
| Leadville has some unique and charming houses |
Friday morning found some of us at the GU shakeout run. I had been concerned with how the downhill race start would go and this provided a 3-mile out and back from the start with 100 people. I wanted to start controlled but fast enough to avoid bottlenecks on the single track trail around Turquoise Lake after 6 miles. The first 12 miles drops 1,200ft.
Sleep at 10,200ft isn't great. I felt my heart pumping in my throat as I lied in bed at 8pm. Nosebleeds are common. The alarm went off at 2am, giving me time for a morning coffee and breakfast, a serene, crisp and cool walk up and down the street under a beautifully starlit sky. My nerves began to rattle. 4am was quickly approaching.
THE RACE THROUGH MILE 62
 |
| The Libertyville Running Club of 4, minutes before race start |
It was warmer that usual, about 45 degrees. Ken fired his father's double barreled shotgun and 826 hopefuls started in near darkness, street lights faded into the distance when we left town and entered gravel roads after a mile. These roads continue through mile 6 until you enter the trail around Turquoise Lake. I tried to relax by shutting off my headlamp and staring at the night sky. The sun wouldn't rise for 2 hours, when I planned to arrive at the Mayqueen aid station, 12.6 miles into the race. I had a drop bag there but I was so excited I forgot to stop for it or anything at that aid station, well, except to shit. I ran out of water shortly after but found a spectator at the bottom of Powerline to fill me up.
The run down Powerline is one of the most thrilling sections. At mile 16, it's 4.5 miles of 4-wheel drive roads dropping 2,200ft underneath the power lines. This is the only place I really fell, naturally, right in front of the cameraman. Once at the bottom, you start to realize that you'll have to run back up that at mile 80. I brush that off and move on to the Outward Bound aid station at mile 23.5.
It's here that I first encountered my crew. I grabbed some watermelon while they filled my hydration and snacks. I stopped at every aid station from here on out to fill my water and sports drink and resupply 4 Humas, 2 Skratch Labs chews, and 1 Skratch Labs energy bar. I opted to wear my vest the entire race. This kept me on top of my eating and made sure I was peeing every hour, checking to see it wasn't orange or something nasty. Unfortunately, it also caused a horrible scar from the heart rate strap underneath it.
The aid station volunteers are good about taking your trash and filling what you need. I spent 2 minutes here and moved on to the next big aid station and a crucial point in the race: Twin Lakes at mile 37.9.
 |
| Not sure what's going on here but I like it |
The section arriving into Twin Lakes is mostly runnable with a field leaving Outward Bound, then more paved road back into a field leading to mild trails through the most beautiful aspen grove with a nice 3-4 miles descent into town. My plan was to run and bank enough time in the first 62 miles so that once I picked up my pacer, Laurie, we could mostly walk it in. Having never run a 100-mile race, I wasn't sure what my body would do after 50 miles and this plan would keep the sub 25 hour big buckle within reach. My wife met me at the beginning of town and ran with me to find our tent - the street is lined with hundreds of them. I arrived into Twin Lakes 20 minutes ahead of schedule, at 10:35am.
 |
| Coming into Twin Lakes at mile 37.9 |
 |
| But how will our tent stand out from others? |
This was my first sit down meal. Laurie made a medley of roasted vegetables, potatoes, and quinoa. Stupid vegan... me, not her. I changed my sweaty shirt. It was getting hot, the hottest race day Leadville has had in almost 20 years, apparently. I estimated this next 25-mile section, up and over Hope Pass and back, would take me 7 hours. I told Laurie to be ready to pace me at 5:45-6pm. I left the aid station after 10 minutes, without poles.
So here it is, the difficult section, the "YOU NEED POLES" section. Many runners either don't make the cutoff to start, or quit somewhere along this section. It's brutal and the heat isn't helping. From Twin Lakes at 9,300ft, you run a few miles before crossing a creek, which, is quite lovely and refreshing, then begin the ascent up Hope Pass to 12,600ft. This 3-4 miles is a grind but familiar, and mostly shaded until you reach the aid station at mile 43.5. This aid station is supplied by llamas and those animals are the cutest damn things you'll see all day! As you pass each one, they give the look that you're the stupidest human they've seen, that is I assume, until the next runner. From there, it's unknown territory for me as we didn't make it past this in the run camp due to snow. It's a mile up to the summit prayer flags and then about 5.5 miles down the backside into the Winfield aid station. I've heard stories, horrible stories.
 |
| Glen Delman Photography - LLAMAS!!! |
For 2 miles, I let gravity take me down the single track, loose shale switchbacks. You lose about 2,000ft of elevation here. After this, the trail was rooted, rocky and rose and fell like the chest of a sleeping beast until you reach the ghost town of Winfield. I had a drop bag here with a can of Dark Matter coffee and Laurie's lemon lavender shortbread cookies. Damn, that was good. I made this a 5-minute stop; much longer, and I might have stayed. I had to face the beast head on now.
On the return, miles 50 - 54 felt like a net downhill and were mostly runnable before reaching the 2-mile climb up to the Hope Pass summit. Ok, here's where poles *might have been helpful. Instead, I crouched over into my hands-on-knees hike and persisted. I stopped occasionally to catch my breath. This was tough but I knew that as long as I kept moving, I would make up the time on my way back down into Twin Lakes and get rejuvenated with a meal, socks and shoes change, and seeing my friends again. Also, those condescending llamas... I just had to prove to them I could do it, that I wasn't THAT stupid.
Once at the aptly named Hopeless aid station, I saw my friend Rob, one of the four other friends running this. He had just missed the cutoff time there by 4 minutes. This race is unforgiving. 30 hours to complete it is not enough for many. Leadville has a less than 50% finisher rate, this year was 44%.
 |
| First, the course profile. Second, how much I ran vs. walked over the profile |
After the descent, I took a few moments in the creek crossing to rinse away the dust and grit of Hope Pass as I made my way into Twin Lakes again, arriving at 5:55pm. Nailed it!
 |
| Thanks Brian, you're the best! |
With another meal of potatoes, vegetables and quinoa, watermelon, and a complimentary shoes and socks change from my crew mate, Brian, Laurie and I began our 38-mile adventure to bring home the big belt buckle at 6:05pm. We calculated sub-17-minute miles would do it. That might sound easy, but...
 |
| Run camp photo but, same attitude, same outfit |
THE FINAL 38 MILES INTO THE NIGHT WITH PACER
I had never run a race with a pacer before. I have two, 50-mile races and a DIY 34-mile elimination run on my ultra resume. What would happen to my body after 50 miles and would my pacer be able to carry me back? She's stronger than me, once had a lifeguard certification (this was reassuring in case I passed out), is a great cook/baker, and has the BEST laugh, like, the laugh that makes you laugh then before you know it, an hour has passed. I chose wisely.
The first 3-4 miles out of Twin Lakes after 62 miles are a climb through some technical single track terrain. It was mostly walking until we could start the ultra shuffle, which, is basically a sloppy run. It's also a song we had been working on since the run camp in which we wrote our own situational lyrics to the melody of the 1985 Chicago Bears Super Bowl Shuffle. It's a damn hit, I tell you!
"My name is Mike and I'll tell you what I like: I bang the drums with all of my might, I came to run and have a little fun, I'll drink all the coffee when I get done!"
"My name is Laurie and I'm here to say, there's another porto-potty just 2 miles away! I'll carry all your lights to keep the trail bright, but if I drop one, don't start a fight!"
This walk/shuffle continued into the darkness, shortly after which we approached the Outward Bound aid station at mile 76.9, around 10pm. I had to shit, again. I was really curious how this was gonna work for 25 hours of running, now I, and you, know! I asked Laurie to fill our provisions, and meet me and Brian up the road. That was a lot to carry, and as a result, she left one of our two good headlamps at the table. I enjoyed another cold coffee here while Laurie silently fretted the moment when we would need that headlamp.
At mile 80, we left the road and there it was, Powerline. This 4.5-mile climb zapped me and had me feeling a bit dizzy at times, resulting in frequent breaks to catch my breath. There are several false summits and in the dark, they are that much more demoralizing. Laurie did her best to keep me moving and motivated. I rank this section the worst of the entire race. I just wasn't having it.
Shortly after summiting, there is a bit of downhill gravel road before entering the unofficial Alien Space Camp aid station. It's cool, they're high as hell and having a blast. It was a good boost of energy, and even better that I don't use because that's the place to call it quits and subdue the pain.
Before long, we approached the Mayqueen aid station at around 1 am. This was it, the final 12.6-mile stretch, around Turquoise Lake then up the roads back into town for that welcome back hug from Ken and Marilee. I was still good with 17-minute miles to secure the big belt buckle and more importantly, I still had the mental capacity to run the math.
I thought I would surely bank some time here but, I couldn't run. I remember this trail section being much more runnable at the beginning of the race. I averaged about a 9-minute mile pace then, but I was struggling to keep each mile under 17 minutes now.
This is the only point I recall being irritable. "Laurie, turn your headlamp on! Why is it so low?" She didn't want to tell me the good one was gone. At one point, she switched with me and took my secondary lamp, leaving me with one of the good lamps that was now running out of battery. We persisted alone, a little darker than we could have because she was conserving the battery. I'm still amazed at how well she navigated this rocky, rooted terrain in that low light, staying just far enough ahead of me to guide me through it... or maybe she was staying safe from my rage once I discovered the headlamp debacle. She IS still alive.
In the distance, we can see a couple of headlamps forging ahead around the lake but mostly, we were alone with the stars back on full display. Because of the warmer than normal temperature, we hadn't changed into warmer clothes. In fact, my only change (into fresh shoes, socks, and t-shirt) was at Twin Lakes mile 62. But when we left this lake trail, there was enough of a chill to warrant gloves and the Patagonia Houdini jacket for both of us.
We got passed a lot in these final 6 miles. I was still confident in my math that the big belt buckle wasn't in jeopardy. Like the Price Is Right, I'm good at getting close without going over, I've been in this situation in many marathons before.
This final stretch is a seemingly never-ending climb back into town on gravel roads; the cruel joke of this race. IT NEVER ENDS. And then, it does. At the high school, about a mile from the finish, you enter town and that familiar feeling of a paved 6th Street we left just 24 hours ago, just as dark now as it was then.
Brian came to meet and run in with us and Melissa met us near the finish. I ran a bit but didn't care to run all the way. I confidently walked across the finish line, exhausted, but thrilled to get the big belt buckle I came for without using poles or encountering diversions from what I knew we could accomplish.
For mile splits, see this Strava link HERE.
 |
| My AMAZING crew! |
 |
| The photographer wanted me to do that thing runners do |
 |
| Our only other finisher, Luke, with his pacer, Jeremy |
FINAL THOUGHTS
In the four weeks since crossing that finish line, I thought a bit about Leadville and where it leaves me.
- Am I an ultrarunner now?
- Am I done with road marathons?
- Am I finally done trying to prove something?
It's safe to say that I don't see 100-mile races becoming my thing. It was exciting to strategize and discover the unknown and to do it at a notoriously difficult race made it extremely rewarding.
Leadville has proven to me what I've always suspected about myself: eating, endurance, and pain ignorance are my super powers. This works great for competing in endurance events. I consumed about 12,000 calories while burning the equivalent. Of that, I ate roughly 36 Huma gels, 8 Skratch Labs bars, 12 Skratch Labs energy chews and the rest was Roctane sports drink supplied by the aid stations, fruits, and a proper lunch and dinner. I drank so much that monitoring the frequency of my pee breaks kept me entertained... then, over the last 10 hours, annoyed at how often I had to pee. But, I was hydrated.
The plantar fasciitis that hurt going into this race didn't at all but other new and unusual pains came and went. One gnarly blister developed below my forefoot around mile 20 but Injinji toe socks kept the rest of my feet happy. The hotter-than-usual temperature was welcomed over all the cold weather clothing changes I had prepared for. This distance and location in the mountains is unpredictable. You have to be adaptable and not go into something like this with hardline plans for food and pace.
Which brings me to the marathon I know so well. I will always enjoy the challenge of a sub-3-hour marathon. It checks all the boxes: the thrill of making the time while managing the uncontrollable, a good mix of speed and endurance, and experimenting with food, all the food! I've completed 80 official marathons and will continue until I complete 100 of them.
Was this the hardest thing I've ever done?
Probably, but attempting to run sub-3 marathons on a Saturday then Sunday was pretty close. I mentioned I ran the Pikes Peak Double to convince myself I could do Leadville. There are some comparisons out there as to which is harder and while the mileage is different, the elevation gain and elevation are similar. I was no more sore after Leadville than after a hard marathon like Pikes Peak Marathon. I got through Hope Pass (mile 37.9 thru mile 62) in Leadville and honestly, Pikes Peak Marathon was harder than that section between the Twin Lakes aid station stops. If you plan to run Leadville, make Pikes Peak Ascent and/or Marathon part of your plan. It will make running at 12,600ft feel easier. On any given day, my opinion is going to change on this one. For the Pikes Peak Double, getting out of bed the next day to do it again is tough, whereas with Leadville, you just have to keep moving... for longer than I care to be awake.
So why no ultra epiphany?
I've come to realize that running is a privileged sport and I'm privileged enough to have participated in many unique and wonderful running events - running with a donkey?! See link HERE - over the years. But Leadville left me to realize that those of us that have little to no hardship in our lives, crave it, need it, and are willing to recreationally manufacture it through events like this. I'm left thinking how inconsequential this is.
Compare this to a refugee who treks hundreds of miles through dangerous mountainous forests controlled by cartels, carrying only what they need to survive, to cross the US border, not knowing if they'll make it to what they hope will be a better life. "They," is often a 5 year old child. I paid thousands of dollars to get a belt buckle. Like, maybe I should use my skillset to crew/pace someone like that?
 |
| Laurie made our group bracelets throughout the summer to keep this fun, because if it ain't fun, you're doing it wrong! |
