Leadville 100 , 2014. Owning Mountains. Equilibrium

The most definitive piece of Leadville this year was a calm serenity that prevailed in my mind and running for 29 hours and 22 minutes. It was neither a hyper active highs, grind it out or race to cutoff. It was simply, simple.

My friend Curtis Imrie had sent me a message just before the race:
"it's an adventure in beauty ...not a religious experience...show us what you know, how you have lived,trained...and know attrition and the high country take no prisoners...the unaimed arrow never misses..relax"

 

My friend Thao had shared some wisdom from Ann Trason, which was to rest your mind during the taper. But to truly rest your mind, you also have to be very honest with yourself with what makes your mind  race. That meant some tough decisions.

 

 I had totally streamlined everything about the race. I went with one pacer and half a crew. This was very hard actually, because it meant saying no to a good friend who really wanted to be a part of the race. But I just needed less. I had one person. One very good person. LTC Erin Miller, Mudbabe, 100 mile finisher and friend extraordinarre. Well versed in nutrition, pacing, running fashion and most important- how to have a good time.

 Erin and Me

"Having the wrong pacer is much worse than running alone." - Ian Sharman. (LT 100 Champion 2013)

 

I also had to streamline my social interactions and Leadville society commitments. Instead of staying at the wildly fun, but too stimulating Hostel, I stayed in a combination of two quiet , calm homes. Instead of being the captain of an aid station at the mountain bike race, I climbed half of Massive (god it's massive) with my friend Chris.

4 house mates versus 44.

#724. I liked it

 

(Chris- Do you like her braids? I did them.)

Streamlined, did not however mean eliminating fun, it meant finding it in a new and healthier way. You see, the above mentioned was the kind of fun that is a bit like the frosting on a cupcake. Delicious but not nutritionally sound. I needed steak.

(Look close. There is steak in my teeth. )

"Always work on your weakness. " Pat Fellows .

 

My weakness is hiking and more specifically hiking uphill. Little Kansas rollers of 300  to 500 ft, no problem, because I run them with aplomb. But for some reason, hiking on a mountain, I'm like a hobbled baby goat that can't find it's mother. Last year, I think I sat down 5 times trying to "summit" Hope.

 

That just couldn't happen this year.
 

 So, I worked on it. I got the correct length of hiking poles, I trekked and climbed and took a lot of selfies in beautiful places.  I timed the course so I would have a benchmark for "good." Most important, it became fun.

It is me after all.

 

This training both mentally and physically set me up with confidence, that I could own the mountains and make up time in a spot that sucked it out of me in the past.

I got comfortable with going out climbing alone. But I also made some great memories climbing with more experienced friends.

 

Chris, Lou (age 82) and Stuke you all mean the world to me and I thought of you as I enjoyed my climbs over Hope.

 

"Just remember, Sophia, it's what you love." Lou.

 Lou and me on Hope Pass pre race.

 

"I knew from the minute we started that you were made for mountains. I've seen you climb. You have got this." Stuke.

Stuke and me getting rained of Mt Bellford.

(Climbing practice-Thanks for the photo Stuke)

 

"Sophia- you are much stronger than you were a month ago." Chris.

 a month prior on Elbert with Chris.

 

 

I had another little issue heading into Leadville. A micro tear in my soleus (ankle muscle connected to the calf). It happened randomly on a paved run I did with an account. All of a sudden at mile 5 my calf felt so tight. I wasn't running fast, it just happened. It was three weeks until race day. I cried at first, then got going on a plan. Dry needles twice and some very intense ART and I started stretching and doing eccentric exercises. Most important, I didn't obsess about it, as I knew I needed to rest my mind. I didn't ignore it, but didn't obsess. 

The Race:

Leadville begins with 5 miles of pavement and gravel roads. This was terrifying for me.I needed to warm up the little soleus on the running and walking.  I made a conscious decision to start out really slow. Even so, I had no idea what would happen next. In a race where in the past, I have been surrounded by hundreds of elbowing people, jostling to get ahead before the single track, conga line of Tourquoise lake, I was running nearly alone. I saw the mass of lights ahead of me, and I was peaceful.

There was a porta potty at mile two . (Nice touch Josh, and thanks, I used it.) No line.

It took me 1:09 to get to the single track, but once there, I had the trail almost to myself. I passed a couple people, but there were no masses of people to maneuver around. This meant I was wasting no energy. I was just running and felt grounded from head to sole.

Mayqueen was deserted when I arrived- however, I was only 4 minutes slower than my arrival in 2012, a year I finished. I saw Sandy, the lady who cuts folks who miss cutoff. I let her know she would not be cutting my band as she had the year before.

Many just use trekking poles for Hope Pass. I started at Power Line. Sure it's a hill not a mountain, but I kind of like to use the poles to get a good hammy stretch and set my uphill rhythmn. My plan, set the pace, keep it and don't stop.

My uphills are still not great. I have attributed this to living in Kansas, but it doesn't explain that my downhills are pretty inspiring. However--- Thank you Mister Soleus, I had to be careful on this first downhill. Snapping soleus=DNF.

I get to the aid station , and for a moment worry that I am running too far behind. But I dash that from my thoughts. It would be a waste of energy.  Erin and Kristin were there and got me all set up with an ice bandana. I thought I might not need it but Erin insisted and I am so glad she did.

The next section is what I refer to as the most underestimated section of Leadville and where lots of people blow up. It is: hot and exposed, flattish but actually slightly uphill , and follows your first bomb downhill of an hour. Your legs just sit there saying-- wait-- it's not uphill for me to walk, downhill is an easy run... how about... let's walk. But wait. Your brain says "it's a race, stupid legs, you must run." "But I'm tired brain. I want to walk." -- so as my mind and body started arguing and playing tricks on me, I did my best to manage them. Employing my inner pacer, I came up with a plan. Don't push the running, but don't walk either. Run at whatever pace is comfortable.

It was a bounce type thing.

I felt ridiculous.

But, I'd observed the ground as I walked versus this bounce running.  The bounce running was decidedly faster, plus I like running and it makes me feel better.

 I thought of training with my friend Megan who may lack speed, but makes up for it in wit and conversation. Too often as runners, we pass up people because we think we should be running a certain speed. As I thought of our friendship I became stronger with every step.  Thank you Megan for your strength ,vulnerability and running you share with me.

(Megan and me at the Gov's mansion in Topeka)

I felt so relaxed.

One by one.

I started passing people.

Many would not make it to the finish line.

At the Camelback water- only aid station, I made a smart decision to fill up my pack.  The next bit rolled and then rocked hard down- plus they were set up for water and I could do it quickly, instead of getting separated from the pack at Twin lakes in the cluster that is that aid station.

By the time I got to Twin Lakes, I had a smile on my face and was on fire to take on Hope Pass. I ate avacados, potatoes and soup. We got my shoes changed and  I trotted out, a slight step up from the bouncing. I was only there 5 minutes.

I knew what I was going to do. Set the pace, and never stop.

I still got passed like I was standing still by many other competitors. But my training told me that where I was, and what I was doing was going to get the job done. So I rested my mind as I was passed and focused on the task at hand.

And actually-- an odd thing happened. I did pass quite a few folks. That's a first.

As we climbed,  no one seemed to be in the chatty mood- but I couldn't resist pointing out the second meadow and mentioning that 82 year old Lou had hiked it with me. That got some "wows."

Lou had asked me the day we hiked if I liked getting flowers from men. I told him it depends but that my friend Stuke sends me pictures of wildflowers when he goes out hiking or running. I kind of like that. Here's the one I like best.

Thoughts of beauty and wildflowers swirled in my head. I remembered my solo climbs up hope and those with friends. I leaned down and picked a couple flowers for my hair. A  wildflower in your hair can be one of the greatest pieces of your training since fun is power and beautiful memories can carry you many miles.

(top of Hope on a solo run)

It could not have been a more beautiful Pass Summit. It was warm, but not hot-- cloudy, but not enough to rain. I was ready to bomb down into Winfield.

(race day. Was glorious.)

I chatted and ran down with a fellow named Trent from New Mexico. When I found that out, I asked if his pacer was Travis McWhorter . Travis used to live in KC and I knew he was in Leadville to pace. Yup-- that was Trent's pacer. Gotta love a little 6 degrees at 12,000 feet.

By the time I picked up Erin at mile 50, I knew that I would finish. The new question was how fast? Could I beat the 2012 time?

Erin was such a great pacer. People want or expect different things from pacers, and it can take a while to get a rhythm. Fortunately we knocked out most of the kinks when I paced her at Black Hills 100. Basically it's like this... the runner manages their race, and the pacer goes along for the ride and makes it fun. Much of what we store up are a bunch of inside jokes. References to hot pockets, shady fish mongers and Thai massages are some of our  favorites. But at a 30% grade the most entertaining thing was the occasional fart. (thank you Erin for being funny and tolerant.)

So now everyone I passed on the down was passing me on the up. But I stood my ground politely. If I stopped to let someone pass, I made sure I was taking a drink, or eating something. If there was a whole group, I would explain that I was moving to the right, but would not be stopping. This allowed me to stay in control of my race and pace and not give up. I also didn't allow the fact that people were passing me to cause me anxiety. With several of them familiar faces, I knew I was going to pass them on the way down.

Another part of my strategery in tackling Hope is that I sectionalize it into 3 parts.
Aspen trees
Red Quartz rocks
Switchbacks

Without the sections, I used to get out of the Aspens and feel like I should be done. Emotionally draining. Now it's is it's own little accomplishment.

As we travelled through section two one of my passers by complimented me on my earrings (wildflowers). Before I could even say thank you, he'd dived down, plucked a flower and handed it to me. A purple one, to balance out the yellow. It was a charming gesture and I appreciated it.

Erin was managing the traffic from the rear so I could focus on moving--  I was excited to point out a nifty landmark on the trail. While doing the pass earlier in the week with Stuke, he noticed a little "vacation bungalow," tucked away in the woods. Numerous climbs up and down over the past 5 years, and I had never noticed it-- for your pleasure, I have added some photos. It's a small cabin with a chamber pot, slat for a bed and hole in the ceiling to let out smoke. It would take a Llama to get a stove up there. You just wonder who put it there and why.

Then there was retching guy. So gross.

"OH that is not what I need to hear." Erin.
A first indication.

We crested the pass and there was a long line of people picking their way down. Eventually I politely let them know that Erin and I would safely be passing them as they had passed us on the up.

When we got to the Hope aid station, Erin got the last cup of coke, which it turned out she needed because she had gotten food poisoning the night before. Erin lives in Key West- so she'd come from 12 to 12,600 in a matter of days. Now add the food poisoning. But true LTC that she is, she rallied for the Pass. She was willing to take a break and pace another section, but again, I am in simple mode and told her to rest. My head was clear and my legs strong. We bombed down like beastly Viking Warrior Princesses and I went on my way solo.

Although I ran alone for the next 40 miles, I have never felt less alone in my life. I felt Erin's commitment to fun and knew her experience and efficiency would be there at each aid station where she crewed me.

 I thought about my brother Philip and how supportive he is of what I do, not because he shares my passion, but because he understand what it means to desire and do something well. Even if it's something different than what he loves, he never holds me back from my dreams. He also does a great job explaining my weird to our parents who find my adventures a bit scary.

If it is possible to be equal parts laid back and passionate, my friend Stuke is just that. I am so fortunate to have shared some good times, passionate climbs and epic vistas with him during race week. And at this point in the race, I knew he had seen the splits over the mountain- and again, I felt like he and my other friends were with me.

Because they were.

I ran really well into Half Pipe and was on a serious runner's high. I changed into some warmer clothes,  but should have changed into warmer tights.

I started to feel my calf and soleus get cold and  tight, so I made a decision to play it safe so I could finish injury - free, and walk more. This was hard pavement which was what triggered the initial injury. As soon as I got to the grass and thought I could run, I was treated to Marty the Marmot sized potholes. So I walked it into Outward bound. Erin got me in warmer tights and took a photo for Philip. That made me emotional but happy, and I adventured on.

The climb up Power line was steady, but slow. Ran down. Tackled the rocky rooty single track into Mayqueen.

Saw Erin- made Nascar - like wardrobe change (Thank you Erin for thinking ahead and always having what I need, and knowing the names of all my Mizuno products.) And I was off for the final bit.

Running the little downs was starting to hurt. I still made every effort to get some speed and keep moving well-- but it was harder than it had been in 2012. But my mind was still glorious. I was where I was and was going to finish. I tried to do a hit of the inhaler and my asthmatic lungs were so tired, I couldn't even hold in the medicine for 5 seconds. Oh well.

I got a compliment on my side braid and trekked it in.

Adrenaline is such a powerful drug. Hurt and stiff legs.. I ran the last 200 yards in, crossed the line and nearly suffocated in Merilee's hair on the hug.

Erin was there and caught the moment and my goal was accomplished and complete.

I remember when I qualified for Boston. A friend asked if it was everything I hoped it would be. He knew the answer- that the journeys leading to it had actually been much more exciting than the actual event.

This Leadville finish was very different than that day in Columbus , Ohio. In this race, so many bits and pieces of my life and friendships interplayed all along the way. Where it truly was exactly as my friend Curtis Imire said it would be.