Subject: Leadville Report (Looong, self-indulgent) Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 15:27:05 -0500 (CDT) From: TriSloth Training (The ugly truth) Well I hadn't done much and it was worrying me. This is the hardest 100 miler I've entered and I am the least well prepared. My longest run all summer was 10 miles. I had done the Andy Payne marathon and a 50 km in May but that was it. A massive asthma attack had wiped out June and work pretty much finished off the rest of the summer. I had completed the Rocky Raccoon 100 back in February (21 hours) so that was good and I had four 100 mile finishes under my belt so I knew what I had to do run 100 miles. The Leadville training camp couldn't be fit into my schedule so I went out and volunteered at Hardrock, spending the weekend working hard up high. I could feel the altitude but didn't seem overly affected. With the minimal training I'd done I considered myself "well rested" and hoped that would make up for the lack of recent training. Training Numbers (for those other obsessive-compulsives out there) March April May June July August (up to LT100) Swim (km) 6.8 18.7 6.7 3.8 2.0 1.9 Bike (miles) 13 0 61 4 48 7 Run (miles) 110 56 114 39 48 42 The biking was done on a flat paved trail next to the Arkansas river. Some of the running was done on Turkey Mountain, a technical, rocky trail within the city limits of Tulsa. I believe the elevation of Turkey Mountain may be as high as 800 feet. This is monthly totals not weekly averages. Looks like serious under-training to me. The Leadville 100 10 K I arrived in Leadville at 9:30 A.M. Sunday morning after a 13 hour drive through the night and promptly signed up for the 10 K. I wanted to see how running at altitude affected me. Easily answered, I sucked. It was hard even running the downhill out of town. I was dehydrating, dying and felt more sick after the race than after times at Ironman Canada where I'd required 1-2 litres of saline in the medical tent. Not good. Pre-Race I spent the race week trying to acclimate to the thin air. The first day I arrived I checked my lung capacity with a meter and my peak flow was down 15%. This device measures how fast you breath out in litres/minute. I'm an asthmatic with a lot of scarring on my lungs and was quite worried about pulmonary edema. On Monday I walked up to 12,000 feet on the Mosquito Pass and read for half and hour, then went to 12,600 and read for half an hour and finally joined a party going to the top (Marg and Mike Hickman, Rod Hammon...) which is 13,185 feet above sea level. Tuesday I walked up Prospect Mountain (12, 500) and Wednesday I went to 12,000 on Mosquito Pass. Thursday I drove the Aspen Road and parked in the Overlook lot at Independence Pass (12,100) and read and napped for a couple of hours. It was the best I could do and my legs were a little tired from walking uphill. Every day I had a headache but I think I was getting better. My peak flow returned to normal the third day and my lungs were clear of any fluid. I'd been taking corticosteroids to prevent asthma attacks as well. Friday After dumping drop bags and making arrangements with my crew I was finally ready for the race. I've always arrived for a 100 miler the Thursday or Friday before the race and gotten right into it. The week long wait here was really getting me antsy. My room at the hostel had 4 runners and a crew member so lights out and quiet at 7:30 P.M. wasn't a problem and I dropped off to sleep immediately. On a trip to the bathroom sometime in the night I heard the rain coming down. It was dark out the window but the rainfall seemed strong and constant. I didn't really want to start the race wet, I especially didn't want to stand around at the start in the rain. I lay in bed listening to it coming down until I drifted off again. At 2:00 A.M. everyone started getting up and preparing so I dragged myself out of bed. I hate early starts. Still had a headache from altitude sickness so I gave in and took 4 Ibuprofen, no more headache. I figured it was 60:40 that I wouldn't finish the race. I'd be very, very happy with a 29:59 finish. I had decided that I was still going to go and run my own race, staying within my capabilities but not holding back go too much. Fortunately the rain had quit. At the shotgun blast start I headed out into the dark, in running shorts, short-sleeved shirt, hat and jacket. As the herd thundered through the early downhills I tried to take it easy and keep relaxed. It was definitely easier running than during the 10K. The rain had turned the Boulevard into soup. I splashed my way along, talking to other runners, Eric Steele (KS), Jack Christian (OK) and parasitizing their flashlight beams. I didn't use my light at all on the road. I was carrying two 16 oz. water bottles and kept drinking steadily. Dehydration would be a major problem for me. I need a lot of water and the aid stations were far apart. There was a nasty steep climb that really hurt coming up to the dam and then we were done with the roads for awhile. I love the Turquoise Lake trail. I was in a stream of runners moving along like train, I would like to have gone faster but didn't want to pass. I had the light on now to spot rocks and roots but it was barely needed. Eventually the Tabor Boat Ramp appeared and Chuck Streit, my crew/pacer was waiting with gatorade. I had drained the bottles some time before so filled them up and drank some more for good measure. How people can run 13.5 miles on two bottles of water I don't know. Then again I'm large, 185 lbs. I guess a few more cautious people had passed by as I was re-filling bottles. When I re-entered the runner stream we seemed to be stuck behind several people who wanted to walk the downhills. Blasphemy! I was ten runners or so back but was getting really tired of walking when I should be running. One of the other people ahead cut out and around and I followed him. We got by and moved pretty steadily after that, catching and passing people on the more technical sections. Hey, if I was afraid of hurting myself I wouldn't have entered the race in the first place. I had cut up legs when I started. I had hoped to run this section 2:15, but came into May Queen at 2:11. I dumped my flashlight in my drop bag, drank my ensure and headed out, forgetting my sunglasses. The climb up Hagerman Pass Road and Sugarloaf was very enjoyable. As we rose up on the mountain Turquoise Lake appeared below. I was really enjoying myself, no asthma problems, and the uphill gradient was so slight I could run almost all the road section. The Colarado trail was great, with streams running by and several bridges. I was gnawing on a powerbar throughout this section. The sun was out and the lack of sunglasses became evident. BUT, for the first time ever I had a crew so I planned to borrow (steal) my crew's sunglasses at Fish Hatchery. I passed a few people on the downhill, as usual. When you're 185 lbs. like me you'd better learn to run downhill fast. A mile or so on roads and I was into the Fish Hatchery at 4:05, picking up a little more time. Refilled my bottles, negotiated a sunglass exchange with Chuck (part of the Blew-Krew) and headed out onto 7 miles of road. The Fish Hatchery to Halfmoon road section is flat, boring and paved. I got into a rhythm, and ran/plodded the whole way to treeline. My crew had headed for Twin Lakes so there was no reason to stop and I ran/walked to the Halfmoon aid station arriving at 5:19. On any other day that would be a good 50 km time, maybe a little too fast in a 100 miler. When I left the station the volunteer said, "Oh, you're exactly one hour behind first place". Aaaargh, too fast. Well, it was the easiest part of the course and the first 6 miles were downhill. The Colorado Trail over the shoulders of Mt. Elbert to Twin Lakes was a joy to run. No really steep climbs, a lovely, rolling trail through an Aspen forest; it reminded me of running in Prince Albert National Park in Canada where our family has a cabin. Just fantastic. I'm a moderate uphill walker, a plodder on the flats and a fast downhill runner so I shift gears a lot. At this point there were other runners around me that had passed or been passed by me as many as 10 times. I rolled through Twin Lakes at 7:05 with no sign of my crew. I was now about 1:15 ahead of the time I thought I needed for a 30 hour finish. It doesn't mean anything at this early point, there's still Hope Pass to be climbed twice and plenty of mile for HAPE to develop. I wasn't really expecting any lung problems until after Hope Pass so up to Twin Lakes was a good time to build buffer. I filled up my bottles with gatorade and self with food and headed off for my first climb of the Pass. After the creek crossing, only thigh deep but cold, I fell in with Chisholm Deupree, another of the Okie contingent. Chisholm set a strong walking pace and we moved steadily uphill. Raul Flores and Mario, a local Leadville runner, joined our little train as we headed uphill. Raul, like myself a resident of the Leadville hostel, was having a bad day. He kept telling me, you've got a big buckle Earl, etc. I ignored him, now hoping (delusions of grandeur) to finish strong in 26:30. There were elevation signs at 10,000 ft., and every 500 vertical feet after that along with some "inspirational signs". It was a long climb but not steep and along beautiful trail so I enjoyed it. My heart rate was up over 160 (>80% max.) but really I enjoyed it. I took few pictures of the lamas at the Hopeless Aid station, picked up some more fluids and headed for the crest. This is where it got nasty. The trail got steep, the air got thin, the wind came up hard and the skies opened. At first I thought it was sleeting but it was only rain. The wind was driving it against us so hard it felt like sleet. I had slipped a jacket on but was soaked through. Poor Mario was in a shirt and shorts, he looked cold. I didn't pause on the crest but hurried down hoping to get to treeline and shelter. Do you know how hard it is to run with your hands in your pockets? Once we reached shelter the rainstorm let up and died. Trying to navigate a boulder pile (walking) I took my only fall of the race. The runner ahead of me fell at the same time. I ended up in a face down in a clump of mint so it wasn't too bad. Later at the med check I'd realize I'd cut myself and was bleeding pretty heavily. No problem; Bones heal and chicks dig scars. The run down was fun, passing Chisholm, Raul and a lot of people (most of whom would re-pass me on the climb back up). Way down the Pass Steve Peterson and pacer went by, moving uphill fast, second and third place (Phil Sheridan) were quite a ways back and went by while I was still on the trail. I hit the road and NO CREW! I'd planned to drop all my stuff with Chuck, grab a bottle and a sandwich from him to eat while walking up the Winfield Road. Best laid plans of mice and men. The second place having a crew would be a big tactical advantage and I'd screwed it up by arriving too early. Fortunately I had plenty of fluids in my bottles as I humped along the interminable dirt road to the Winfield turn. I hit the aid station at 10:16, a great time. I had hoped to hit the turnaround at 12:15 or even better at 12:00 so this was good. I lingered in the aid station, delving in my drop bags and dumping my wet jacket for a dry one while waiting for my pacer and eating as much as possible They weighed me at 190 lbs. up 10 lbs. from my pre-race weight of 180 lbs. I think it was the wet shoes. I finally headed out on the return trip, pacerless. I was worried about co-ordination of my crew/pacers Chuck and Chad. I was supposed to pick up Chad at Winfield for the trip over Hope and he'd stop at Twin Lakes and drive Chuck's vehicle to Fish Hatchery as Chuck paced me. On the Winfield road Mario waved as he went by carrying a watermelon slice the size of his head. Chuck was at the trailhead, I must have just missed him but he didn't know where Chad was. I was glad I was alone on the trip up--I did not feel great and I stopped frequently letting the downhill runners go by. Personally I think the downhill runner always has the right of way. I was re-passed by everyone I'd passed on the downhill and a few more for good measure. I had to stop frequently as I neared the crest, my legs were really feeling the climb and I was short of breath. It was nice to see friends heading in to Winfield on this section although I worried about some making the cutoff. Near the top Eric Steele complained that I'd been sandbagging all week hoping for a 29:59 finish. He was behind his plans and said he'd been very sick the first 20 miles then left saying my face was blue. I met Bonnie Alison (OK City) on the crest and Long Vu (OK City) about 200 feet down. Long Vu looked bad, more grey than blue and appeared to be feeling the altitude. Once past the Hopeless Station it was a lovely run down to the creek. I was rained on again, but at a lower altitude out of the wind it wasn't a big deal. After crossing the creek it seemed like a long trip back into Twin Lakes. The second climb up Hope had taken a lot of the jump out of my legs. It isn't easy to train in Oklahoma for this kind of mountain running. When I got to Twin Lakes at 13:36 I found Chuck and Chad, ready and organized. I tried a little foot repair and changed to dry shoes. I had all my night gear in this drop bag although it wasn't near dark yet. I slipped into a dry long-sleeve coolmax shirt, tied my tights around my waist and put on my headlamp leaving the flashlights behind. The up hills were much harder this time. I had to stop frequently and put my hands on my knees and I was feeling slightly nauseous. The higher we got the worse my breathing was. I had a slight catch at the end of each inhale and exhale. There was something in my lungs but it was different from asthma. It's hard to explain but asthma is difficult to breath out, a wheezing that continues through the whole exhalation. This catch was different. The trail was still beautiful though and as we headed down the far side towards Halfmoon I took some anti-acids and ibuprofen. I ran the downhill much more strongly and felt great. I suspect now it wasn't the ibuprofen that helped it was dropping down in altitude. Chuck saved my bacon on this section of Colorado trail stopping me from missing a key turn. It was dusk when we made it to Halfmoon at 16:15. The toughest section of the race was over, covered in just over 11 hours, the easier part of the course remained. A 26:30 finish now seemed possible. Barring injury I could walk in a sub-30 finish . I tried to eat some of the pizza from my drop bags but only got one bite down. My stomach is usually cast iron when the heat and humidity are below 90, I can eat anything, hamburgers, stew, red beans and rice, barbecue beef tacos burritos, I crave this kind of food after dark. Not this race. All I could eat race from the 20 mile mark on was soup, potatoes and bananas. Fortunately the ensure was still going down easily. The main culprit was altitude but I was flirting with dehydration the entire race as well. I added salt to my bottles at each and every aid station and had no trouble with cramps, finger swelling or any of the symptoms of hyponatremia. The Halfmoon to Fish Hatchery road section was quite unpleasant. The run down to treeline was fine but once we were out on the pavement the constant traffic and highbeams were one of the worst experiences of the race. It was quite dark now and every truck that came along dazzled my eyes. Despite our lights and reflective clothing many of the vehicle didn't give us any room. I thought Chuck was going to start throwing rocks at vehicles. I could have made better time on this section if I'd been a bit more disciplined but running on the hard surface was painful. After an eternity we made it to the Fish Hatchery at 17:58. While Chuck searched for Chad, my next pacer, I fueled up and grabbed a flashlight. I was trying to get some soup down when Chuck came back and said Chad was getting ready. I meandered out of the aid station, felt the cold and put on my lined tights. I still wasn't wearing a jacket, just a long-sleeved shirt. I headed up the road from the aid station and was soon joined by Chad who would be my pacer to the finish. Chuck would resume Blew-Crew duties and meet us at May Queen and Tabor Boat Ramp. The worst part of Sugarloaf is the initial steep climb, after that it's not bad. Unfortunately I was stopping every 20 yards or so again, just like coming up the Colorado Trail after Twin Lakes. I was having even more trouble breathing. On top the powerline was glowing and hissing, (really, I wasn't hallucinating Chad saw it too). Along this section we got sleeted on. Many, many people passed me as I stopped to rest and I began to think that a 26:30 finish wasn't going to happen and maybe breaking 28 hours would be my new goal. The course markings were always very good during the trail sections but there wasn't much on the roads. We came to a junction going down the Hagerman Pass road and stopped at a glow stick. I had a map and we looked at it but were we at the point the trail left the road or was it too early? We had to run a couple of minutes to find another glow stick and the candystripe flagging may have well not been there it's so hard to see at night. Whine, whine, whine. The Colorado trail section here was fun on the way out and still fun at night but boy it sure seemed a lot longer. I thought we were at the end three times before we got to the road. I wasn't feeling too bad when we rolled into May Queen at 21:37. I changed flashlights, was weighed at 185 lbs. and refilled my bottles. In the last stretch I had drained mine and started on Chad's. A bit more soup and we were on our way. For some reason I had 5:30 in mind as the time it would take to get back to the finish, pretty close to 27 hours. I felt better and ran most of the trail sections walking occasionally. I didn't have to stop and rest at all. I was pushing it, hoping to bring my time down to 26:30. The sooner I finished the longer I could sleep until it was time to get up and watch the last finishers come in. As it turned out we were moving much faster than I thought since we hit the Tabor Boat Ramp at 23:06. Now was it 6.5 or 7.5 miles left? For the first time in the race I thought a sub-25 hour run might be possible. I dumped my jacket and we headed off onto the trail as fast as I could go. The trail seemed to go on forever and then the rain started. I was putting out enough energy so that I wasn't cold at all but the thought of slogging up the boulevard in the mud wasn't appealing. We worked our way through campgrounds and eventually the trail dumped us into a paved road. Which way to go? Through the steady rain I could see roads leading off at two directions and at least two trails as well. Visibility wasn't great. We headed in the general direction the map indicated and came upon a parked truck . A sleepy volunteer headed us the right way and we headed down Turquoise Lake Road for the railway tracks. Each little section seemed to take a lot longer than it should. The 0.75 mile along the railway tracks from Turquoise Lake Road to the boulevard wouldn't end. I figured we had 3.5 miles to go when we hit the boulevard. I can't remember what my watch said but I can remember thinking I'm going to need 2 more minutes. I ran most of the mud road having turned over my flashlight to Chad and navigating by headlamp. I had to walk on the hills, my legs didn't have anything left. At the turn off the boulevard I dumped everything, headlamp, pack, hat all into the ditch and resolved to run the rest of the way in without stopping. It was 24:50 when I hit the paved road and the first hill stopped me. I had to walk up it. Shortly after this a fellow runner and pacer passed me. I could see the finish chute and started to push it, passing Chad then my legs turned to jelly. I walked and ran it in to finish at 25:01:53. So I was the first finisher over 25 hours, the first of the "normal" people. I was just very happy to be a finisher and only mildly disappointed at missing the big buckle. I'd really pushed hard during the last 13 miles and was very satisfied with my effort over the whole race. Chuck and Chad helped a great deal This was my first race with a pacer or crew and it certainly has some advantages. After the finish Chuck gave me a ride back to where I ditched my stuff and then back to the hostel. Somewhere in there I got chilled and started shaking uncontrollably. A long, hot shower back in my room helped. Two of my roommates were already back, nipped by the cutoffs. I tried to get some sleep but couldn't , too much adrenaline still flowing and whenever I laid down I couldn't breath. I measured my peak flow after the shower and it was now 50% of normal. I could feel a lot of crap in my lungs. So I went back to the courthouse and watched the finishers come in until the shotgun sounded. The people finishing in the that last hour really must have put in a terrific effort. Some of my friends last seen high on Hope Pass (Eric Steele, Jim O'Neill) came in then. After the awards ceremony I crammed my junk (with Chuck's help) into my wagon and headed back alone to Tulsa. I really hated having to drive straight back but I had to be at work Monday morning. I pulled off I-70 into a rest stop east of Denver and noticed the car behind me had a corpse in the passenger seat. It was Phil and Stacy Sheridan driving back to Kansas. Phil (the corpse) had had a lot of respiratory trouble and dropped from 3rd place down to a 22nd place overall finish. He had to work Monday as well. It's a 13 hour drive back home. I arrived in Tulsa at 7:30 A.M., showered and went to work. I was tired but a nap at noon got me through the day. Tuesday I came down with a very nasty upper and lower respiratory tract infections. I'm still coughing up crap a week later. Not too surprising with the last 90 minutes of the run in pouring rain, about 3 hours sleep from 2:00 A.M. Saturday until Monday night and a little light exercise in between. I had to take 2 sick days. I'd definitely do Leadville again, and I'd try and get up there as early as possible. I'd like to echo John Hargrove's one complaint about the Leadville finisher buckle, it needs to be more ergonomic, it's really, really hard to sleep in. Best wishes, Earl ________________________________________________________________ Earl L. Blewett Ph.D.| Biochemistry + Microbiology | Slow Swimmer + College of Osteopathic Medicine, Oklahoma State U. | Slow Cyclist + Tulsa, OK 74107 Phone (918) 561-8405 | Slow Runner E-mail blewett@osuunx.ucc.okstate.edu | = TriSloth