Don't Stop Believin': The Leadville Trail 100 Run

I often set my blog entries to music and there was really no better selection this time around than some positive, old school Journey.

The Leadville Trail 100, a grueling 100 mile run, takes place every August in the mountains above Leadville, Colorado. Many start this race. Far fewer make it through to the red carpet and finish line within the 30 hour absolute time limit. Even if one is perfectly trained, there are so many things that have the potential to go wrong; illness, injury, and plain old exhaustion from what this race does to a runner. To that end, it's important for the runner to consider enlisting some pacers to help him or her in the second half of the race, and crew members who can perform the basics of making sure the runner has proper gear and nutrition, as well as provide encouragement, motivation, or a plain old kick in the butt if it's what is necessary.

 I'd planned to be at the race in 2012 anyway, with several friends from Grand Junction signed up for the race when it sold out in early 2012. When my friend Ben texted last month, however, with the news that race founder Ken Chlouber himself had presented him with a gold coin...AKA a "golden ticket" that gave him entry into the sold-out race following his completion of the Leadville Trail Marathon, and would I please please consider pacing him, it became certain that I'd be going to the race to help a friend get to the finish line. Originally I was on only as a pacer. When I learned that he was going to do it crewless with just drop bags, I volunteered to crew until it was time for me to pace-still trying to keep it lowkey and simple-if that was reasonable to Ben. Ben was down with that, so I prepared to do the somewhat unusual combo of being sole crew member for 76 miles, and pacer for the last 24 miles. Silke, a friend of a friend with excellent running credentials would pace starting at 50 miles, and would also have her husband Ryan there to help. This was shaping up to be a good team effort even though some of us had never met.

We arrived in Leadville on Thursday night, not 100% sure what we were doing, but ready to see this thing through, drawing on what experiences we'd had to that point. Ben had never run 100 miles, nor had I. I did gain a lot of experience this summer on the support side of ultras, though, with the limited crewing stint at Western States, pacing at Hardrock, and as pure fan support/cheer at the Grand Mesa 100 for a couple of friends. Ben, for his part, is also a very strong trail runner, and quietly self-driven. He's always got a smile on his face and is just "good people." Training is important for the runner, but optimism and self-belief when the going gets rough and everything hurts-that's equally important. He ran the 50-miler in Leadville following his surprise golden ticket registration, ending up high on the finisher list despite running it as more of a training exercise to build confidence and endurance for the LT100. Despite the lack of long-term planning, things were shaping up well. On Friday, we hit up the packet pickup, scored his numbers, and attended the orientation meeting along with other friends, crew and pacers from Grand Junction.

We were still going to use drop bags, but I'd be getting the bags out prior to Ben's arrival at each aid station, readying items so that he could choose what he needed easily and head on his way. Some people bring in massive storage tubs on rollers and a full rig of towels, chairs, and other items to each aid station; it just made more sense for us to keep it simple, though. To that end, we made up bags, labeled them, discussed what would be good for each aid station, and packed them up.

Ben turned in pretty early that night. I spent a little time with friend Shannon, who would be crewing her husband Kevin, that evening, but also headed back to my van at a nearby campground pretty early. Soon, 3am was upon us. Ben had gotten a good 4-5 hours of sleep, and said he was pretty calm and relaxed during the wakeful time. Great-he hadn't been undone with stress and awake all night, so we were already off to a decent start. Soon we were at the start, ready to get the show on the road. And trails.

At 4am, the runners took off in a blur of headlamps down the road. It was quite the sight; an all-time high number of 800 starters ran by, including Ben and five other Grand Junction natives.

Once everyone had cleared out, I talked briefly to Elizabeth and Shannon. Shannon advised me that it would be kind of crazy at May Queen, the first aid station, at 13 miles. Runners would see it again at 88 miles. With that in mind I headed out quickly, and sure enough, it was a total zoo there. I was able to park Ben's truck off on the side of the road pretty easily, though, and made my way down to the aid station, gathering his drop bag and watching for him, and other runners coming through. Knowing friends would want updates, I started keeping a record of the times that friends came through, something I continued to do throughout the race, saving the info to a text and then shooting it out once Ben made it through each one.

Ben arrived to May Queen right on schedule at 6:15. He looked good, and didn't want to sit, which made sense. This was pretty early on. He asked about a handheld water bottle, which hadn't been sorted into the May Queen bag. No major catastrophe, though, as he had his pack with water. He was hoping for sunglasses, too, which were in the car somewhere. I made a mental note to find them for the next aid station. It was still dark now, so he'd wind up having to make do without the glasses for a bit. Soon he was off again, and I headed down the road to Fish Hatchery, the 23 mile and 76 mile aid station. Here, it was the first truly social aid station. Many of the support teams skipped May Queen, but everybody was here. The sun was coming up, and the temperatures cool and pleasant.

Friends Kevin, Marty, and Chris came through, and then I knew it was time to start watching for Ben. I had no idea what had become of the handheld water bottle but found some sunglasses, and the hat I thought Ben wanted. He came through, and it turned out that I'd grabbed the wrong pair of sunglasses from the car. The hat, though, was a pretty nice desert hat that would keep sun off the face and neck. This was good enough, and he was still feeling great. I felt bad about the minor snafus but Ben wasn't dwelling on them. Still, I didn't want to have any more issues. He headed off down the road, and I got ready to move along to the aid station where I'd cheered and crewed briefly for friend Bryan last year-Twin Lakes.

It's a true party atmosphere at Twin Lakes. The runners hit this aid station at 40 miles, and again at mile 60 after their double trip over Hope Pass, so many crews and teams stay out here for a large portion of Saturday. I'd be meeting Silke and her husband Ryan here so that she could be introduced to her runner prior to picking him up to pace at 50 miles. Since Ryan would be heading to the Winfield aid station-one I'd been advised to avoid at all costs-with Silke, I would be able to have some down time. Silke, Ryan and I found one another pretty easily at Twin Lakes, and we hung out near the ridge that the runners bomb down by the aid station. I still could not find any sign of a handheld water bottle, but had fashioned hand-made ones with disposable bottles and duct tape.

I followed the now-familiar pattern of seeing Kevin, Marty, and Chris come in. I hadn't really anticipated using the other guys as markers, but it was helping out in terms of knowing when to be on alert for Ben to arrive. Soon I started seeing runners who had come through just before him at the previous two aid stations, and got the game face on. I'd found the correct sunglasses and hat, so I felt like I was in a good rhythm now and ready for a quick transition. Soon, we saw our runner bounding down the hill, looking relaxed and fluid, and only slightly off the pace for his somewhat aggressive first-timer goal. While "finishing" is typically the best first-timer goal at Leadville, I also know firsthand how important that can be the first time out to have a goal in mind. Ben wasn't rigid to this, but the sub-25 hour big belt buckle was in the back of his head if things went as perfectly as they could.

Silke and I ran up to Ben, greeted him, and then ran him through the aid station. As it had turned out, the "wrong" hat I'd given him at the previous aid station was great for the intense sun. We switched out the hats, and he took the correct glasses. I offered the homemade hand-held, but he opted to go without, keep using the pack, and headed off down the road. Things were definitely going more smoothly now, and nearing the halfway point, things were looking pretty good. There was still a LONG way to go, though.

Rather than just heading back to the campground and my van to nap, I stuck around Twin Lakes with some of the other GJ-area crews. Kevin's team had full costumes on, and soon they had me in Kevin's superman costume as well. He'd worn it on Halloween the year prior, a child's costume cut in half, lamenting that "I just wanted to be a ninja." I doubt I'd have been able to nap if I'd left, and this fun, casual down time suited me just as well in terms of staying relaxed and calmly focused on the rest of the race. Ultrarunning legend Scott Jurek paced then-leader Tony Krupicka into the aid station, and afterward, we managed to get a picture with the down-to-earth and friendly guy who then posted the picture to his Twitter page. The police officers handling traffic on the road at Twin Lakes also pulled us aside for a photo-op.

I stayed until Kevin, who had gotten VERY sick coming over Hope Pass, made it in, and got back out after Shannon, Bryan and Elizabeth worked to get him feeling semi-human again. Ryan, Silke's husband, had texted me that Silke was now with Ben, and that he still looked good. I headed back to the campground, gathering up my things and changing clothes to get ready to pace the home stretch. I also stopped to get some real food. Even though we wouldn't be running fast and would likely be hiking from 76 miles to the finish, it was important that I take care of myself and stay well-fed and hydrated. I got a text saying that Ben and Silke were through Twin Lakes inbound. He was maybe an hour off that A-game time goal, and looked better than most according to Ryan. I made it to Fish Hatchery late in the evening, and met Ryan right away-he was parked a mere two vehicles over from me. It was nice to be able to chat with him, and to also use his smartphone app that let him know where Silke was with Ben. They'd slowed down quite a bit but were still moving-excellent news, considering that he'd been up and over Hope Pass twice, and was entering the late stages of this thing.

I took a brief one-hour rest/lay down period, and that gave me a nice recharge. Kevin was in eventually, and looked markedly better than at Twin Lakes inbound, where he honestly looked ready to keel over and quit. This is where having crew and pacers is so important; they helped him to get back out there again, and somehow, he was back in this. Marty came through eventually, also looking better than he'd apparently been earlier, after coming off Hope Pass. Then came Chris, Jeff, and our friend Kirk, who has run this thing 17 times. I wasn't concerned, though-as long as Ben and Silke were still moving forward, it was all good. Soon, Ben and Silke were in, and Ben was still smiling. He was tired but still looked like a guy who believed and knew he'd make it to the finish line in Leadville. Heading up to the aid station tent, we got him the food and drink he'd need, took a quick team picture, and then Ben and I headed out, 76 miles into his race. It was close to 1am now.

 As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, there was a great post from another ultrarunner on the Footfeathers blog about being an ultra pacer. It was comical, and all about art of balancing the runner's needs at any particular moment with the pacer's amped up energy and readiness. I wasn't sure if Ben would be talking, silent, wanting songs and jokes, or something else. As we headed down the road, I couldn't believe how chipper, positive, and super-conversational he was still able to be. He asked "Do you want to hear my new goal? 29 hours, 59 minutes (a minute ahead of the absolute cutoff)!" Reality had set in that it wasn't going to be sub-25 hours his first time out, and he was totally okay with it.  I texted his sister Jessica to let her know that Ben looked good and that we were, in fact, telling "That's What She Said" jokes at that given moment. I also updated to Facebook so his mom Bea and others could follow along, before we started the big climb up Powerline. Heading down the road, we were at a brisk hiking pace. This was great-keep in mind, Ben had been moving since 4am. That's 21 hours.

 Soon, we could hear some strange music in the woods that got closer and closer. Eventually, we passed a house where what could best be described as Mexican romance music was being blasted. We laughed our way past this absurd distraction, and then hit the trail for the long, steady climb up Powerline. As the name suggests, this section of trail runs underneath a powerline and straight up the side of the mountain. We weren't hammering the trail, but somehow managed to pass quite a few teams as we climbed without even trying. Ben's a strong climber, and and we just kept a steady pace, admiring the starry night skies, and feeding off the wonderful energy of being out here in the quiet of the night, looking at the steady stream of head lamps moving up the mountain. There were several false summits and climbs, but Ben wasn't fazed. We moved in a calm, slow, steady hike up the hill, stopping for a brief recharge here or there, but really no stopping. Finally, we crested the high point of the trail-no more climbing! The stars were amazing. We looked up to admire them several times, and kept plugging away.

 Heading down, we hit hardpack road, and Ben was quieter now. I was feeling oddly sleepy. There wasn't much technical to mess with here, and in a way, than was as mentally taxing as anything. I looked around to keep myself awake, but I sensed that the quiet was good and didn't run at the mouth. Soon, though, Ben was needing to stop and re-group regularly. It didn't worry me-I could only imagine how badly his body hurt, and how the lack of sleep was beginning to mess with the head. Ben started being very concerned about time, and what mile we were at on the course, and how soon we'd be to May Queen, the last aid station. It was SO close, yet so far away.  I assured him that we were making good time, and that it was okay to not know exactly what mile we were in at that given moment. He was worried about it in a way that he had not been until this point, though.

 Walking slowly down the trail, I became aware that Ben had dropped back a bit, but I kept moving. As long as we were moving, even slowly-it was forward progress. All of a sudden, though, I heard Ben say "this seems awful silly for a belt buckle. I've gotta lay down." I turned around and he was down on the ground, laying down and looking up at the stars. One thing you want to avoid at all costs is your runner sitting or laying down late in the race, and if it happens, the pacer needs to get that runner up and moving as quickly as possible before it becomes an exercise in futililty. Instinctively, I said "you can look at the stars, but you NEED to stand up." There was a moment there when I didn't know if I was in for a fight, or if he'd get up easily. After a brief pause, he got up. We turned off the head lamps, looked at the starry skies again, and then I said something to the effect of okay, let's start moving again. His brief attempt to quit the race was over before it even started, and we continued to move down the road.

Soon, we hit the turn back onto trail. Fellow runner John Constan had described it as being steep and hard to see in the dark, but something you just have to go for without daintily stepping onto it. This change of scenery and step onto more challenging terrain was a welcome change. It required focus, and the variety of twists and turns provided a much needed shot of adrenaline. Here, in the dark, we came upon fellow Grand Junction runner Jeff, and chatted with him for a bit before moving past. The trail seemed to flow naturally, and I didn't have to look too hard for the glow sticks as it wound and curved past trees and over a few nice bridges/water crossings. We also passed a runner with an incredibly loud pack, blasting country music from some source within the pack. We couldn't tell if this was his music of choice, or something designed to be annoying and thus keep him awake. Regardless, we'd climbed up from the low point not too long ago, and this was good. The focus was on continuing to that May Queen aid station. I told Ben that a brief 5-10 minute sit would be totally cool here, and great to re-charge; we just didn't want him sitting or getting too warm and comfortable beyond that. He was agreeable, and soon we could hear the distant sounds of the May Queen aid station with cheering aid station workers and crew.

Once again, I found myself on a road lined with cars in the dark, just like the morning prior. It was a small victory of sorts to make it here after that low point/laydown not too long ago. Ben chowed down on a nice bowl of potatoes and hung out near the space heater. I shoveled down some watermelon and ramen noodles, hit the port-a-johns, and grabbed what Ben needed from his drop bag. When I said it was about time to go, there were no arguments, and we moved out quite easily. Other runners were not faring so well, and a number had seemingly given up the fight to move forward, wrapped in blankets on cots. That was the last aid station; there was still a long way to go, but we were in the home stretch.

 Moving down the road a bit, we eventually hopped onto the trail that would take us all the way around Turquoise Lake. It's said that runners go through many stages over the course of 100 miles; it was unbelievable that now, after almost 90 miles, Ben was back to smiling and joking again. I threw out another "That's What She Said" joke to which Ben responded "WEEEAK! C'mon. You can do better." He was definitely back, confident, believing he was going to make it through. In that rough patch, he was trying to do running math, which every runner will tell you just doesn't work...this was especially so after 24 hours on foot. Ben was believing me now when I said he had this thing so long as he kept moving to the finish. Moving around the lake, he was even able to jog small sections, and whenever he wanted to do that, I went with it until he had to hike again.

As the sun began to rise, we marveled at how this was now the second sunrise he was seeing as a racer. The air was calm, and daylight on the lake was another welcome, beautiful sight. I sent out another text as we came around the lake, updating friends and family that we were coming upon 95 miles and about to get off the trail from the lake and into the final stretch toward that finish line. It was starting to set in now that Ben WAS going to do this. He was going to finish. The exact time was up in the air but there was no question now that he would do it. It's sort of a cruel joke that while we weren't far from finish line, the actual course kind of meandered sideways along the perimeter of Leadville for a bit with some pretty good climbs. We started cracking with other teams about it being the Walking Dead moving toward the finish. Nobody was running, but everyone was feeding of that energy and knowledge that there were only a few more miles to cover.

The warm sun further energized us; it had gotten pretty cold overnight and this was a nice change. Checking in on my phone, I started reading Ben messages and well-wishes from Facebook; there, I read that his sister Jessica had made it there with his dog Leila, and would be waiting for us at 99 miles. We reached 98 miles and the smiles and good vibes were all around despite extreme fatigue and pain of covering that distance on foot. The tendons on the front of Ben's feet were just throbbing, and he hurt all over. When we climbed uphill, I tried to redirect toward thinking about how good it felt to stretch things out as we climbed. Sure, I knew this wouldn't change how bad he hurt, but anything that took his mind off it for a minute would help. Then, we were there-99 miles.

(pic via Jessica Hauschulz) 

Jessica appeared with Leila, instantly perking Ben up to see his sister and his dog. We continued down the road together, moving amongst slowly moving, but MOVING teams of runners and pacers. The excitement in the air was palpable. Soon, we could hear the finish line announcer in the distance.

Clearing the last big hill, we headed down the road and then started the final climb to the finish. Ben was going to do it. So many people had dropped already, and he didn't even know a month ago that he'd be here; nor did I. He'd tried to quit at 87 miles, almost losing the dream there. And now he was about to do something that few dream of doing or training for.

When that red carpet was in sight, we all started trotting toward it together, hearing "and please welcome Benjamin Hauschulz!" In that moment when he crossed, a crazy dream that a lot of logical types wouldn't have attempted was realized. Run 100 miles? Crazy. After officially training-albeit, with a strong base-for a month? No way. I nearly broke down then but managed to keep it together as the race director hung a finisher medal around his neck and hugged him warmly. It was one of those beautiful moments in life when someone's work, the struggle, the effort had all paid off, and the emotion of it was an incredible thing. Amongst a great group of trail running friends, Ben's an exceptionally positive light who is always a pleasure to be around, and run with. His finish here was an unlikely, wonderful moment. It's also a reminder to not shy away from challenges and golden opportunities. One never knows if and when they may come around again.

(Jessica, with Ben, 2012 Leadville Trail 100 finisher, official time, 28 hours, 20 minutes, 20 seconds)

(**With a finish rate this year of less than 50% of the starting field, great congratulations to all the Grand Junction area runners, who logged a 100% finish rate despite a variety of issues and challenges that could have easily ended their races: Marty, 24:05, 58th overall, Kevin, 24:23, 65th overall, Chris, 25:12, 83rd overall, Kirk, 27:07, 124th overall and 18TH FINISH AT LEADVILLE(!) with no DNFs, Ben, 28:20, 186th overall, and Jeff, 28:50, 238th overall. You ALL are beyond inspirational and motivating.**)

The Accidental Spectator: Leadville Trail 100 Edition

Before I let it get away from me in the endless hamster wheel of back-to-school/back to activities, I've got to talk about the wonderful experience my daughter and I had as fans and onetime aid station helpers at the Leadville Trail 100. I'd wanted to go, but thought it wasn't in the works. Oh, how fortunate Alexis and I were to be able to share in the experience.

A week ago Saturday, I roused my pre-teen at o-dark-thirty and started poking her with a stick to get moving and dressed. She's been dancing since age three, and now at twelve has just been approved to begin dancing en pointe. Fitting pointe shoes is kind of like finding the right running shoe, but with a far greater risk for injury to a young dancer in the wrong one, and far fewer places to buy them or get them fitted the right way. Living "four hours from nowhere," as my Dad likes to call our city that is four hours from both Salt Lake City and Denver, we had recommendations from her studio for two places in the Denver metro area, and opted for the Boulder store when they got back to me right away and seemed to have better customer service. While I wasn't thrilled about 8+ hours in the car, messing with my child's growing feet isn't something I'm going to do. It's her thing, too, as running is for me, and with four kids I don't get tons of one-on-one time with her. So, we were actually looking forward to the hang.

After a ride in the car during which Alexis and I alternated playing tunes on the iPod, hanging out and talking some, we made just one local wrong turn (don't ever trust Mapquest directions 100%), and found Boulder Bodywear, where my daughter wound up being fitted by the owner of the place, who has been doing this thing for 20 years. It was cool to watch her go through the process, methodically and just talking directly to my kid to find the best fit, not trying to sell me product.




After trimming down the list, and the fitter determining that she needs thicker toe pads but no toe spacers like most dancers (see...all the stuff I don't know that made me glad we came to this place), she found herself narrowed down to a really good pair and the perfect pair for her to start pointe training. We were out of there far earlier than I imagined, and after a quick lunch at Med (try it if you're ever in Boulder-really good Mediterranean place that's inexpensive and healthy), we were on the road again.

Intermittently throughout the morning and early afternoon, I had been doing something else as well-checking in with two members of local runner Bryan's support team/crew at the Leadville Trail 100. Bryan was a first time 100-miler, originally from Kentucky, living the Colorado dream along with his wife Elizabeth. He'd had this race on the brain for many years, and his dream and goal was finishing...period. Under 30 hours, and getting the belt buckle that all official finishers get was his goal. I've gotten to know these guys, and there's just something about wanting to root someone on in realizing their goal, and tracking his progress. It doesn't matter how well a runner prepares for the LT100-a lot can happen over the course of 100 miles, and typically only half of the field finishes the distance under the allowable time. All the little things makes a difference, including but not limited to proper pacing, good nutrition, weather, course conditions, self-motivation, crew, pacers, and general support along the route. I just identified with his goal, too, of getting it done and literally living his dream.

Every time I was updated on his progress, he was right where he'd wanted and hoped to be-ahead of the cutoff times at each aid station, but without a huge cushion. Both crew members I was talking with (one being his wife, another being one of his pacers/2-time LT100 finisher) said via text message, "you guys should come up to Twin Lakes!" Twin Lakes is the 40-mile outbound stop on the out-and-back course, and 60-mile checkpoint inbound. The timing appeared to work out very well, and I made the decision to detour to Leadville with Alexis. They said that Bryan was having some IT band pain, but that he was feeling pretty "good" otherwise.

Now, my kiddo is twelve, as I mentioned earlier. She's a good kid but not a robot, and got a little cranky, saying "I wanna go home! I don't want to go up to Leadville." I said tough, we're going. Nine hours to do your thing...we're going to stop off, cheer for, and encourage someone doing something most people would never bother to try or train for. Play whatever you want on the iPod until we get there, your choice, but we're going. She grumpily set it up to play the music mix of her choice and promptly fell asleep. When she woke up two hours later, approaching Leadville, her attitude seemed suddenly adjusted. The weather can be nasty in the mountains but it was pretty nice as we made it into Leadville and easily found the Twin Lakes aid station. I didn't see any of Bryan's "Badass Honey Badger Crew" there yet, but there was plenty of people-watching and runner cheering to do.


These were some spectators watching runners come back into view from Hope Pass on their return trip inbound:

Several film crews documenting the event in general, as well as members from specific sponsored teams:

There were, of course, a wide variety of runners in various physical and mental states.


And then there were the faithful fans and support crews of runners. I didn't catch the special post-race services in one of these photos until I was home looking them over. That is some serious dedication to your athlete.




After walking around for awhile, I saw one of my original Dirty Girls teammates, Julie C, arrive with some other local support crew. Her husband John was running, and we would see him check in later, looking very strong. We chatted for a minute, and then Alexis and I continued to wander, keeping an eye out for the Honey Badger. There were tons of people milling around, cheering for runners as they came through. Some looked strong and even smiled, some seemed to be not doing so great but were still moving, and others appeared to be in obvious pain or discomfort. We finally saw the first member of the Honey Badger crew:

Soon, the rest of the crew was there too. That's Elizabeth, Bryan's wife, and Terri the Penguin, who goes along for all of Bryan and Elizabeth's adventures in Colorado.


When we first saw the crew, I said something like "Baaadgggeeerrs," not particularly loud or disruptively, but I sort of startled them because, well, they'd been without sleep, had been up since 2 a.m., and had endured a downpour while camping the night before. I guess I needed to bring it down a notch. Alexis and I helped them grab all the stuff that we'd need to set up for Bryan at the 60-mile checkpoint, including a variety of gear and nutrition options, camping chairs, pacing chart, and other items. The Leadville Trail 100 is a well-oiled machine, and they don't want anyone dying or getting unnecessarily injured out there. When he came in, Bryan would have to go through, get weighed, and otherwise pass the medical check before continuing on. We set ourselves up immediately outside the checkpoint, and then just hung out.



Alexis, despite her initial resistance, was thinking this was all pretty cool by now. Other than the fact that we were uncharacteristically unprepared for driving in Colorado without the Leadville stop (no heavier clothes or jackets, better footwear, water, shovel, etc) and slightly chilly, we were having a good time, and really excited for Bryan's arrival. We were told that approximately 8-8:30 would be a likely arrival time, and moved down to the one general store/lit area at Twin Lakes around that time. We donned pirate masks and eye patches (Elizabeth planned cool little surprises for Bryan at each pit stop to lift his spirits and keep him motivated), and practiced a cheer. We were ready to go, and kept watching for Bryan and his pacer as it grew dark.



We continued to practice our cheer, and cheer on other runners as 8:30, 8:45, and finally 9:00 came and went. We were not doubting that he'd be in soon, but everyone was REALLY wanting to see Bryan and his pacer come along, and closely watching for him with 9:45 being the cutoff for this aid station. Then...there he was! With great excitement, we did our cheer "B is for Bryan and Badger! Mutual badasses!" and then ran alongside/cheered "badger, badger badger....." all the way up to the spot we'd set up. He went in to get weighed, and once he was out, it was a flurry of activity akin to a NASCAR pit stop. His pacer Marty was calmly but quickly directing the action, asking for batteries, specific food that Bryan wanted, socks, shoes, you name it. Two of the guys were shaking out his leg muscles because that seemed to loosen up the tightness he was experiencing, and Elizabeth rubbed his back and neck to loosen up those muscles and just generally provide good moral support to her husband. He was still ahead of the cutoffs, but with very little time to spare, so it was crucial to get him refueled, loosened up and ready to go again quickly. It's hard to see, but this was our man Bryan getting fixed up in the dark:



He looked good-obviously, you're not looking like someone with a full eight hours of sleep and lots of couch-surfing time at sixty miles into one hundred miles, but he was pretty with it. We'd seen a few runners who, quite frankly, were at the "goose is cooked" point. Though he had precious few minutes of cushion time to make the cutoffs for the remainder of the races, he looked like a runner who was ready to keep on keepin' on at this steady pace, and run his race. When Bryan got ready to run again, his new pacer was ready and off they went with fresh batteries in their head lamps. Alexis and I helped the crew move everything back to the vehicle, said our good-byes, and got ready to hit the road. I asked them to keep texting me with checkpoint updates throughout the night, and they told me to drive carefully back home. It was now after ten. This meant we'd have a VERY late arrival to Grand Junction, but it was such an amazing experience to be part of Leadville for even a short time that it was definitely worth it. Even Alexis, who wasn't thrilled to get there, kept saying "that was awesome!" Seeing how hard the crew works, and then thinking about how far the runenrs are going-it's just awe inspiring and good for anyone to see, but especially kids her age.

I didn't fall asleep or run off the road on the way home, but was SO happy to see my bed upon our return. I got a few hours of sleep, and sure enough, early in the morning, I got word of Bryan's arrival at the second-to-last checkpoint, and finally the last checkpoint. He had 2.5 hours to make it the final 7 miles, which may sound like lots of time on its own. By now, though, he was truly exhausted and it was pretty fitting that Elizabeth paced him in to the finish. By now I was up again, and refreshing the results page, waiting for his final time to come up, and FINALLY...there it was....29:44:xx, an official finish at Leadville, the beltbuckle, and a dream accomplished with his whole crew there for the moment. It was hard to wrap my brain around that, or that I'd slept twice during the time he'd been out there. He finished 328 out of 347 finishers, an amazing accomplishment that barely half of the starters were able to do.

I know this wasn't MY race or my kids' race or anything like that, but it reminded me why I run, and why it's important to work for the things you want to do, and tune out any negative influences or factors telling you that you can't, wouldn't or shouldn't. It's great inspiration to me as I run my first race in two months, the Mary's Loop 8-mile, this weekend as a tune-up/hard run, and then move on to the Imogene Pass Run the following weekend. I want to do like Bryan did, and run smart, stay relaxed, trust that my training will get me through the physical part, and that my mind will get me through any portions of the races when I might feel like I can't do it.

**SMALL P.S./FOOTNOTE...turns out that voting was not "live" yet in the photo contest I linked up in the last blog entry. You can either go back down and click there again to vote, or click through here if you feel the urge to vote for my pic of the bliss of exercise.**

A Little Bit Of Shameless Self-Promotion, And Friends Running A Long, Long Time

After the Boston Marathon, I posted a picture that had been taken on the course of me high-fiving some kids and having a blast during the race that almost didn't happen. My friend Lynn from the BQ Babes (we spent a lot of time together in Boston) mentioned to me yesterday that there was a photo contest through Blue Cross/Blue Shield encouraging people to submit pictures of themselves having fun while exercising. And, well, that was the photo that came to mind for Lynn. I've never done anything like this before, but truth be told, it's a photo I really like because it captures how I felt that day, and how great it felt to be able to run the race. If you feel compelled and have a few minutes to kill, you may visit the photo at this link and vote. You can comment and laugh at my roller derby on crack outfit as well...that's encouraged early and often. There are lots of other cool photos and stories on the page, so be sure to check them out.

Also, it's Leadville Trail 100 weekend. I am not running or pacing, but we have several hardworking local athletes who will be running, and many more who will crew, pace, or otherwise provide general support. There's a slim possibility that I may be able to head up on Sunday to watch my neighbor Bryan finish his first LT100 in the early morning hours, but I'll likely be cheering on from afar. Still, it's very exciting to get to virtually track these guys, getting updates via Facebook pages, text, and the Leadville Trail 100 race website. I remember how beat I was at the end of 34 miles last February, and the ladies and gentleman who have put in the training and time for 100 miles have my full respect and admiration, regardless of what happens out on the course (though I know Grand Junction is going to represent, and show that there are strong runners from the places in the state that are not as well-known for being running meccas). I'm glad I've gotten to do a little watching and learning from the training for this race, and can't wait to hear afterward what it was like to cover 100 miles on foot.