2013: What a (Helluva) Year

Scrap metal at it's finest!
I hang my medals on my closet doorknob until the last day of the year.  I then take each one, remember the day,
then put them in a large Ziplock and away in a box and start over.  Repeat each year.  The Mt. Evans rock (bottom center) and the age group mining pan win from Leadville - those will hang on my dresser mirror (along with my Boston medals).

If there is one thing I learned about myself in 2013 it's that I can do a shitload of really, really hard stuff...and, believe it or not, I'm not going to die. 

I know that sounds like I'm being a little melodramatic, and to a small extent I am, but up until I ran Leadville Silver Rush 50 in July and then 5 weeks later the Pikes Peak Marathon - two races that have been high on my list of races to run - I pretty much thought those types of things were for die-hard ultra trail-y types of people. I'm just a normal person, I can't do stuff like that.  Good Lord, it took me 4 registrations of the Pikes Peak Marathon over the course of 20 years (how many dollars lost?) before I actually had the courage to do this race this year.

Fear.  It constrained me for decades.  Tethered me to my past.  Forced me inside my comfort zone and at times, stopped me dead in my tracks and render me useless.

I think a lot of folks believe I ran the Leadville 50 because I turned 50.  A mile for each year - how cool is that?  While this is pretty cool, and does have a nice ring to it, it wasn't the true underlying reason.  I guess there could be plenty of smaller whys, but in my heart, I just felt it was time I just faced down my fears of the unknown and tackled these races that I have always admired from afar, but could never bring myself to do.  I spent 2012 trying to reestablish myself as a runner after the foot from hell fiasco and I just couldn't find the love that I knew was buried inside.  I ran a couple marathons - and felt no connection to them.  I raced several half marathons and none of them were even close to my abilities.  I threw in several other races because, well, just because.  I didn't really care about any of them, I had no attachment, and thus the training for them was non-existent...I just didn't love running much anymore and I wondered if my days of racing were completely over.  Was this all there was for me?  Just endless sucky road races where I got exponentially slower each year I grow older?  Gah, it wasn't even fun anymore.  I needed a change of scenery.  Literally.

I needed Leadville!!!!!

Since the day I registered for the Leadville Silver Rush 50-miler in late February (and a couple months before), I had one focus for 2013 and one focus only: train for the damn thing.  I can’t remember a day I slept past 5:30 AM.  I was typically in bed by 9:00 or 9:30 and up at 4:00 to drive countless hours to squeeze in 5-6 hours of running on trails that I had no idea where they lead.  

While I certainly trained hard for my road marathons in the past (some of them, anyway), I don’t know that the same level of drive was there as when I trained for Leadville, and I know the amount of time spent didn't even come close to the same.  Leadville was a huge unknown to me - a world I knew very little about.  I was a road and track junkie for 37 years.  Trails?  How does klutzoid me run on dirt and rock without falling (I learned you don't :))?   How do I run 50 miles - all at one time - when my longest run has ever only been 26.2 (Okay, 27 if you count Carlsbad Marathon when I made a wrong turn with the half marathoners and had to go back)?  I get lost on a 400m track, how the heck I am to navigate my weary body around on a 3' wide patch of dirt when race course markers are only positioned maybe every mile?  And the clincher...what if I can't finish what I start?  Egads!  The old adage of biting off more than I can chew really matters to me.

I hired an ultra coach (well, coaches - plural - if I'm truthful).  I spent countless hours in my car driving to the trails so I could get my weak climbing ass stronger.  I registered for countless races to use as training.  I spent days away from home at my aunt's condo in Breckenridge, a town nestled high in the Rockies, where I could get plenty of less oxygen into my lungs.  I got lost on trails in Leadville and had a complete tear-ridden melt-down when I got turned around and had no clue how to get back to my car.  Six weeks later, I fell hard on some other trails in Leadville and pulled a rib muscle; I was by myself and laid flat on the ground for a solid 15 minutes because it hurt so much to breathe when I moved.  It took me 2 hours to walk 2 miles, via a shortcut I prayed endlessly would lead me to my car (miraculously, it did).

Add in real-life stuff like work and just trying in general to not become some dirty, stinky-ass, half-stranger to your family, and some weeks became quite the juggling act.  I’d like to think I made it through without putting running first but more often than not, in reality, training for an ultra is a fairly selfish act.  If I was going to do it right (as in, if I was going to train at a level that would actually prepare me for the race), then I was going to have to make some sacrifices in other parts of my life. Truly, the running part of training for a 50 mile race is easy (and really fun).  It’s the logistics of putting in the time that’s hard.  All that mattered was the next step, the next stride to Leadville and my kids were left without me a lot.  Lucky for me, I have an understanding and supportive family who have always known how much running means to me….I think when they were little they assumed that the amount of running that their parents do is par for the course for ALL parents.  But my kids believed in me, in my quest, and I all I can do is hope that they take something deeper away from what it is I do out there when their own lives hit a snafu.
  

Anyway.... in the end, when I stood on the start line of Leadville, I felt an enormous sense of tranquility that I'd never experienced in a race before.  My work was done.  My fears were gone.  Yes, I CAN do the things these uber ultra trail-y runners do.  And I DIDN'T die!  I was now one of them.  

And I loved every second of it.

I guess it's the catch-22 of being a grown-up, simultaneously wanting certain things but being scared to death of them at the same time.  We have to own those fears and realize that until we are brave enough to acknowledge the desire, and fight like mad to get it, we will never ever have the opportunity to see it blossom in our lives.

I know it's just running, just a mere hobby.  I'm not a paid athlete nor heading to the Olympics.  I know that Leadville mining pan age group trophy in my bedroom and my name in Colorado Magazine's "Fastest Runners of the Year" aren't the most important things in the world, but they are tangible reminders of those hours, and the miles, I spent on those trails.  They remind me that yes, yes I can do these really hard ultra trail-y things...by god, dreams really can come true. 

2013: it was a helluva year; the memories will forever be stored in my heart!  I know I won't be racing as much this year as I did in 2013 due to financial and logistical matters, and simply because I just want to spend more time with my kids before they venture out into the big ole world, but I do know that whatever I do in 2014, it's going to be pretty dang scary!  I can't wait.

2013 Numbers:
Mileage: 2103.22 miles 
Vertical: 144,038'
Races: 23 (two of those were pacing my friend, Katie)
     50-miler:  1 (Leadville, duh)
     50k:  2 (my first time at this distance)
     Marathons: 3 (two trail, one being Pikes Peak Marathon - got that monkey off my back)
     33k:  1 (trail)
     25k:  1 (trail)
     14.5 miler: 1 (Mt. Evans Ascent)
     Half Marathon:  7 (2 trail, the rest road)
     7k:  1
     4-miler:  1
     5k:  3
     Half Ironman Triathlon:  1
     Sprint Triathlon: 1
Race mileage: 391.95 miles (running, not included are the bike and swim from tris)
Race vertical: 42,931'

14-ers climbed: 9 (raced two: Mt. Evan and Pikes Peak)

And...my first flipagram.  I had a blast making it, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved digging through all my memories making it (don't worry, it's only 30 seconds)...


Happy New Year, my friends.  As always, it has been a pleasure sharing the miles with you!