The Leadville Trail 100 David Bursler - 8/19/03 Leadville 100 the third stage of my quest to complete the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning. I arrived in Colorado 13 days prior to the race to acclimate myself to the thin air. This was not a vacation I was on a mission. I had to prepare for the race. I could feel the effects of the altitude immediately as my head was pounding in rhythm with my heart. Day one I did a three hour run and felt like I got no where. The energy level just was not there. I felt better each day but never really matched my normal intensity. Day 3 I climbed to the top of Mount Massive. I learned a valuable lesson while doing this. It is important to pace properly as not to become anaerobic. If you get into this state you have to stop. Stopping is not an option in a 100 mile race. Relentless forward motion will get you in under the time limit of any race, stopping will not. I became anaerobic while climbing Mt. Massive and had to stop. I took in some views, shot some pictures and took my rest breaks as needed. Better it happen to me now than during the race. I storm started to brew just as I reached the top. Even with the amazing views I did not stay long because I am not used to lightning striking so close. I ran hard back down using the adrenalin rush generated from the fear of the lightning. I did not stop running until I reached my car at the trail head and when I did stop I almost fell over from dizziness. Along with running every day for the first week I did my normal exercise routine while camping at Sugarloafin' Campground. The research I did told me that just sleeping at high altitude is a good way to get acclimated. Hydration is another problem that comes with the territory. The humidity is so low that your sweat evaporates immediately tricking you into believing you're not sweating at all. I could have easily fell into this trap but I knew going out what I faced and forced water down whether I thought I needed it or not. There were many trips to the bathroom but I never felt dehydrated the whole time I was there. The final obstacle that I had to get used to was the weather. I could not believe how it could change at the drop of a dime. Day time highs reached the low 80's and night-time lows were around 40 with frost! It could be sunny and warm one minute and cold and rainy the next. In the late afternoon I could always see a thunderstorm on a mountain-top in the distance. When the sun was out it shined bright and took a toll on my skin and lips. I got burnt to a crisp the first couple of days there and my lips blistered. It sounds kind of funny but I guess at 10,200 feet you are closer to the sun and more susceptible to its effects. The weather was the least of my worries because I trained in one of the toughest winters Delaware has seen this year. Sunday August 10th, LT10K, my first test to see how well I am acclimated. I know my time will be way off normal pace but I still have a goal. Is it reasonable, I know now that it was not but it was still a goal. My normal 10K time ranges from 37:30 to 38:30 and I thought 40 would be a good time here. I ran the course earlier in the week and it did not look particularly difficult to me. I took off full speed feeling pretty good on the way out, I ran the first 3.1 in 19:53 but toward the end I was feeling weak and it was mostly downhill. I could not maintain that pace on the way back and actually was forced to walk up some hills because I overdid it and became anaerobic. I finished in 44:58 tenth place overall and second in my age group. I wasn't too happy with the time or the fact that I was forced to stop. I felt better when I heard that some of the people in front of me also had to stop and the winning time was 39 something. It was just another valuable lesson and actually I guess I did fairly well. I took it easy the next five days so I could be my best for the race. I picked my mother up at the airport on Tuesday. She along with my brother would be crewing for me. We decided it would be good to try and locate all the crew access points before hand. At Western States and Vermont they have had some difficulty trying to locate these points race day. I had the same trouble with the Leadville directions. It seems as though the directions are written for people who are familiar with the area. There were roads (if you want to call them roads) that were identified in the directions with names but there were no road signs. There are course markings for the runners maybe there should also be course markings for the crew also. It took us most of one day to locate 6 crew access points. Thursday before the race my mother and I went to the carbo-loading dinner of spaghetti, salad, rolls, cake, and beer. Why these events have beer I'll never know. I also picked up my packet at the dinner. Friday I attended the pre-race briefing while my mother picked my brother up at the airport. Ken Chlouber told a very good story on how to complete a 100 mile race. The fact is the story he told could pertain to any difficult situation anyone may face in life. Paraphrasing at best he said In all of us there is a built in desire, urge, feeling, whatever you want to call it, to succeed. Just when you think you've had enough you find the strength somewhere deep down inside to continue on. He guaranteed everyone that there will be pain but at worst if you complete the race it will only last 30 hours but if you don't finish the pain will last 365 days. Even though I already knew this it was good to hear it again. When my brother arrived we once again traversed the path the crew must take race day to get him prepared. We ate and went to bed early. I woke up ~2 a.m. race day not to report but to urinate. As I was going it seemed like all my energy was leaving my body at the same time. When I was done I felt faint and had to lay down immediately. This scared me because I thought for sure that I had caught some kind of virus and would not be able to compete. I had less than an hour before my alarm clock was set to wake me up I hoped that I would recover and be okay. When the clock went off I felt better but still not 100%. My mouth was very dry and I did not feel like eating anything. I dressed and drank a lot of water before my mom drove me to the starting line at 6th street. My mom took my picture in front of the start line around the hundreds of people that were already there. I hate the before hand festivities of pictures, dinners, speeches, etc. I want to finish the race before the accolades are given. Who wants a picture of themselves standing in front of the start line but did not finish. I was nervous about my chances of finishing as I always am but this was different. I have heard so many stories about how difficult this race is and the finishing rate is always very low. Will I be a victim or a victor, I was about to find out. At 4 a.m. sharp at the sound of gunfire we started running. My crew was waiting for me at the 7 mile point (Tabor Boat Ramp), I would not need anything from them except moral support. I was very familiar with this part of the course since I ran and hiked some of it earlier in the week. There are no significant ups or downs until you reach Sugarloaf Mountain around 15 miles into the race. If you have the ability and can run without oxygen you can sprint through this part of the run without a problem. I had other ideas, I just want to finish this race under 30 hours comfortably so there will be no sprinting. I made through 7 in an hour and twenty-seven minutes and I am okay with that. My next goal is May Queen Campground, the 13.2 mile mark. Once again the terrain is very easy to run on it's just a matter of pacing myself properly and staying within myself. It could be very easy to get caught up in what other people are doing but I stay with my game plan and run easy. I got to May Queen in ~2:25 and am feeling okay, not great but okay. The course takes us another 2 1/2 miles or so up Hagerman's Pass to a dirt road which leads us to Sugarloaf Mountain. This is the first significant climb. The summit reaches 11,500 feet and we will go to the top. I was a little surprised to see a runner already struggling at this point before we have even done anything hard. Again I reel myself back in and worry about my own performance. I feel okay but I do start to notice a sharp pain at the top of my right foot. I stopped and tightened the laces of my shoes around the affected area to help alleviate the pain. I was eventually able to put the pain out of my mind and focus on the course which was becoming a little more difficult. We are led to the top of the mountain with switchbacks. It is a good climb but not the toughest one I've ever done. I made a rule before the race that there will be no uphill running and I stood by that rule firmly. I sometimes do a run walk to try and make time up but decided against that for this particular race. I would, however, run down. Another rule of mine is to run down all hills not matter how I feel. I ran towards mile 24 (Fish Hatchery) after getting down the mountain. It took me a little less than five hours to reach this point. I fully expected to have a thorough medical examination at this point. There was a scale there but no one asked me to step on it. I tried to spend as little time as possible in the aid stations and with my crew. I was making good time early on but I was pretty sure there would be struggles as the race progressed. I am now on my way to tree line at Half Moon Road. This is only a couple of miles away but it takes a lot out of me to get there. The course is flat as a pancake but I just do not have the desire to run the whole way. No desire leads to no energy. I followed the people in front of me, when they ran I ran when they walked I walked. It took a while but I got there. I was feeling somewhat tired just a bad spot I was going through. I don't think I let it show to my brother or mother. There was still a long way to go and I am not sure they understand how we go through these phases throughout a run. I was worried about discouraging them. Again I did not spend much time with them and off I went to the next aid station mile 30 Halfmoon Campground. I was still feeling weak so I grabbed a pack of double caffeinated tangerine gel and ate it as I left. A few minutes later I felt like a new person. The gel gave me the kick I needed. I was headed to Twin Lakes, mile 38, and I was running again with as much vigor as I was at the start. I was happy to be on a trail again after being on 7 miles of dirt road. It was cool, the ground soft, and it was mostly downhill running. I felt good going into the aid station at Twin Lakes, met my crew, grabbed what I needed and left. I went down the path about 100 yards only to realize I should have some rain gear before leaving. It was thundering in the distance and I was concerned I could get caught in it without a jacket. Unfortunately my jacket was not readily available. It was in the car parked 2 miles away. I did not have time to wait for it to arrive so I took a gamble and left without it. I was headed towards Hope Pass. I didn't no where it started but I knew I was headed towards it. We went through a mile or two of flat grassy land which included a water crossing. The water was cold and had a slight current. I am not particularly fond of getting my feet wet 40 miles into a run but you got to do what you got to do. Before I knew it I was climbing Hope Pass. I did not even know that I was climbing it until about a 1/3 of the way up I asked someone. I watched people around me struggle with breathing problems and nausea but I was okay. I just kept the thought of relentless forward motion will get you there. The aid station volunteers had pasted humorous signs at certain points along the uphill and when we were within 1000 ft of the top there was as sign indicating this. There was an aid station about 3/4 of a mile from the top complete with llamas and all. Just as I reached the aid station it started to rain, hail, and get cold. Luckily the aid station personnel had prepared for this by pre-cutting rain jackets out of garbage bags. I took one and never removed it the rest of the race until I finished. When I reached the top I did not spend too much time looking around since I had to get down, back up, and down again. I wasn't exhausted but it took a lot out of me. Going up is not very steep and the footing is good. It is just long. Going down was very steep and rocky at certain points. I tried to run down as much as I could to reach Winfield, the halfway mark, at a decent hour. I very rarely look at my watch and did not know what time it was but it was daylight so I knew I was in no trouble of the cutoff. The two miles from the bottom of Hope Pass to the aid station seemed to take forever. It is kind of an uphill run so following my rule I ran very little of it. I got there and my crew was soaking wet from the rain/sleet shower. I looked at my watch and found that it had taken me 12 hours to get there. I was not happy about the time I thought I was doing better. I still felt okay and was not concerned about finishing but knew I must still make it up Hope Pass one more time. I left the aid station at 4:06 headed back to Hope Pass. I knew what I faced since I just went down. It would be steep and rocky but because it was steep it would be a short distance up. Once again I watched people in front of me struggle going up. This is definitely where it is all decided. How much do you want it? I had to get up to the top and had could not stop for any reason exhaustion included. There was never any doubt in my mind that I would reach the top but the question kept coming up "How was I going to do it?" My grandfather came to my mind many times as I climbed. He was one tough SOB and there was no obstacle, no challenge he would not meet and conquer. I would be like him. I used whatever force he left on this earth to get me up that mountain and over. I ran the 3/4 of a mile to the aid station, grabbed some soup and headed down. The climb took a lot out of me but I made myself run down. I reached the bottom and did a run walk to the water crossing and made my way back to the Twin Lakes aid station, mile 62. I changed into some warm clothes, got my flashlight, weighed in at the aid station and took off. It never seems to fail on an out and back course that the way back is not as easy as what I remembered on the way out. The eight miles from Twin Lakes to Halfmoon Campground would be the longest and hardest eight miles of the run. The climbs seemed hard and I do not remember them as significant downhills on the way out. The double Hope Pass climb was having an effect on me. I did a lot of walking because of the uphills but ran when I could. This was an eight mile stretch that invigorated me on the way out because of the cool air and soft terrain but on the way back I was taking a beating. I finally made it off the trail back onto Half-moon road now looking for mile 70 aid station. I was exhausted mentally and physically. I lost all focus, I forgot was I was out there, I forgot about all the training I had done to get to this point. Thought of quitting started going through my mind, a warm bed seemed very desirable at this point. The longer it took me to get to the aid station the more the thought of quitting seemed reasonable. I kept going forward but there were a lot of people passing me that still had a lot of energy. I was discouraged. Where is that aid station? Did they move it? Finally there it was and I found the energy to run to it. The thought of quitting was still there but it was not a final decision just an option. I decided I would take a little break, sit down eat some more soup and clear my mind. I was there for about 5 minutes when I heard someone say it was 11:06 and the cut-off was mid-night. I jumped right up, grabbed another double caffeinated gel and left. This told me that quitting was never an option. I was worried about a cut-off if I wanted to quit cut-offs would not matter. I was still not moving too fast but I was moving. The gel jump started me before could it do it again? I made myself run because at this point my joints are like a rusty wheel without oil. I start out running barely lifting my feet but as I go it's as if I am lubricating my joints and I go faster each step and feel better. I am heading toward my crew at Half-Moon Road tree line. I am coming back to life I am now focused and determined to finish the race. Whether it was the power gel, the fear of missing the cut-off, or just taking a five minute sit break something got me thinking straight. I reached the Half-Moon Road tree line and told my brother of my struggles. He re-inforced the fact that I come to far to quit. His speech was enough to motivate me the rest of the run. It's amazing the stages your mind goes through over 100 miles. It can make you or break you at this point. A family member or friend to pace or crew you can keep you on the right track. Unfortunately I was in the middle of no where when I hit a bad spot and had to regroup on my own. My brother continued his pep talk as he walked a couple hundred yards up the road with me towards the Fish Hatchery, My mother made me a sandwich and made sure I ate it before I left. The lack of solid food may have been part of my problem. I had been surviving on Ensure and Red Bull most of the run. I was stuffed when I left. I struggled on this stretch of road on the way out because it is flat but on the way back it did okay. There was fence all the way down the road and I would run post to post then walk post to post. I employed this strategy all the way to mile 76 ,the Fish Hatchery. I spent very little time with my crew before entering the aid station. I was in and out of the aid station in less than a minute before I was off. I would not see my crew again until mile 87 May Queen Campground. There was no doubt in my mind that I would make it there. I had one more significant climb up Sugarloaf Mountain. It is about a mile or two from the Fish Hatchery to the turnoff to Sugarloaf. I looked at my watch while running this stretched and noticed it said 3:11 a.m. I did not think it was that late and worried that I may not be able to go 24 miles in the time allotted. As I was plotting out my plan I heard someone in the background say that it was 1:11 a.m. and that we could walk in if we wanted to. I forgot that my watch was still set for Eastern Standard Time. What a relief, I have plenty of time to finish. I used the energy generated from that fear to help me as I made my way up Sugarloaf. This can be a very frustrating climb because there are four or five false summits. Just when you think you've reached the top it goes up again. I talked to a lot of people around me as I was climbing to help pass the time. As long as I am going forward it's just a matter of time. Going up isn't that steep it just takes a while. It started to snow just as I reached the top. I did not think it was that cold but I guess it was since it was snowing. The weather did not matter to me at this point I was going to finish if it was in the eye of a hurricane. I ran down the runnable sections of the mountain, walked the flat to Hagerman's Pass, and ran most of the 2 1/2 mile sections to May Queen Campground. This was another section that did not seem like it would ever end. It took forever to get to the Campground and I ran most of this section. I met my brother coming off the trail before reaching the paved road to the campground. We just talked for a few seconds and I was off. I ran to the aid station, grabbed some food and left. A glowlight was either taken or misplaced on the path through the campground because I missed a turn and rounded a corner for about 25 yards before I realized I was going the wrong way. There was a group of four people in front of me about 1/4 mile that made the same mistake and were on their way back. I retreated found the right path and continued on. I noticed a glow light hidden in a bush and threw it out on the road to help those behind me not make the same mistake. I had 6 miles to go to Tabor Boat Ramp and 13.2 to the finish. Most of this would be travelled around Turquoise Lake still in the dark. I would run as much as my body allowed since there were no significant uphills. At this point anything up was significant. My right foot started bothering me again just as I reached Tabor Boat Ramp. I though maybe my shoe was causing the pain so I asked my brother to give me the shoe he was wearing and he did. This is what is good about having family there they'll give you the shirt off their back and the shoes off their feet. The shoe change did not help much so I just ignored the pain and continued on. My next stop was 7 miles to the finish. I was very familiar with the remaining course and developed a plan long ago how I would traverse the final few miles. The last 3 or 4 miles are on an uphill dirt road. The uphill is not significant and if need be a person can run it. My goal was to finish the race under 30 hours and I had plenty of time to achieve this so I walked up hill. When I reached the paved road there was one more uphill on 6th street before 1/4 mile downhill. Once up the last hill I ran it in to finish in 27:46:03. The race was a struggle and I learned many lessons but it did not beat me. The Grand Slam is within my sights and Wasatch I'll be there. Dave Bursler Bear, Delaware