We arrived in Denver late Thursday afternoon and had a lovely dinner with Jason and Angie and their family, and Kirk and Jen. Jason and Angie had leased a beautiful condo for their stay about an hour north of Leadville.
After dinner we headed to Leadville and had a quiet night at our hotel.
Friday – Pre-race
Early on Friday Ken went straight to the medical check-in to beat the crowd. It was a beautiful, clear day. We had arrived long after dark the night before, so it was quite something to step out of the hotel and see the mountains surrounding Leadville. It was breathtaking!
Check-in was quick for Ken. He was in and out in almost no time. His blood oxygen was 97% - high enough for the medical folks to ask him if he lived at elevation. At least within the first 12 hours, Ken had tolerated the altitude change quite well.It was a different story for me. While I felt fine physically, I was struggling cognitively. I was in a mental fog that made it hard to complete a thought, let alone a sentence. Ken assured me it was a common effect of altitude. On top of that I was very anxious, much, I think, because I really wanted to do a good job for Ken. I was very apprehensive over the potential for bad weather, which, thankfully for all of us first time crew members, stayed absolutely glorious almost the whole time, and the fact that I didn’t have a clue about what was expected of me. The mental fog made it all worse.
Our next stop was the mandatory pre-race meeting for the runners. You could just feel the electricity and anticipation in the big room. It was very exciting and very inspiring.
After the runners’ meeting, there was a crew meeting.
With all of the noise and excitement and my mental fog, it was hard to follow the instructions the volunteers were offering. I could barely write down what they were telling us because it was getting lost in between the time it reached my ears to when it should be coming out on the paper. Adam was taking notes, too, so between my scribbled fragments and what he captured, we were able to put together something meaningful. Then, on top of my questionable mental ability, the course map was completely, utterly, and comically unintelligible. Even looking at it now, five days later, I am grateful that I did not have to rely on it to get us around.
The nice lady leading the crew meeting gave us a few thoughts on the crew location points, like how easy or not they may be to access, and some thoughts on the course change necessitated by a military helicopter crash that had occurred just the day before.
Some other tips she stressed to us included:
- Decide who among the crew should approach and communicate with your runner. It is best not to overwhelm the runner with all of you coming at him. Whoever communicates with the runner should delegate his needs to the rest of the crew.
- Encourage the runner to eat real food. She explained that in her long experience with Leadville, the runners who make it a point to consume real food especially in the first 50 miles seem to do much better later in the race.
- Do not let your runner leave Twin Lakes without foul weather gear. Anything can happen as they’re going over Hope Pass.
- Have a meeting with your runner and have notes about what they expect they’ll want and need at each stop.
After the crew meeting we had a quick lunch and headed back to our hotel to have our little runner/crew meeting. Toby had not arrived yet so it was just Ken, Adam, and me. Among us we decided who would have which job.
My job would be to approach him (with a kiss of course!) and see what he needed, offer him lip sunscreen and Glide and make sure he applied both at every stop.
A word about Ken: He is of the school of thought that if a little of something is good for you, a LOT of it must be better! This theme will repeat itself in the form of a cookie also, but this Carbo-Pro, E-load thing would bite him in the butt sooner than later.
Adam’s job would be to take Ken’s Camelbak, make sure he had consumed all or most of the water, refill it, and help him get it back on. He would also check the pockets to make sure Ken had eaten the cookies and to put new ones into the pockets for the next leg of the course, and refill Ken’s supply of Thermolytes (electrolytes in a capsule) and S-caps (more electrolytes, with a higher sodium concentration I think).
These cookies deserve a special note of their own. Meredith, Ken’s nutritionist and an accomplished ultra runner, had recommended them as a good food source for super long runs. They are calorically dense with a high carbohydrate content and wholesome ingredients. Ken had planned to consume half of one of these big cookies every hour. So, based on anticipated 25 to 30 hour finish, his plan would have him eating between 12 and 15 of these 4½-to -5-inch diameter, ¾ inch thick cookies over the course of the run. When Jason heard about this plan, he promised Ken an open-mouth kiss at the finish if he actually consumed all those cookies.
Ken had also thought ahead for his anticipated needs at each aid station and gave us instructions. Can you believe this guy?? These were our instructions:
- Outbound Mayqueen – daylight would be approaching. He would be trading in his hat and headlamp for his visor and sunglasses. We should have them ready. Adam should change out the batteries in the headlamp right there to be sure we didn’t forget it so that they’d be ready for when nighttime rolled around.
- Outbound Fish Hatchery – nothing special here except for the normal fluid and cookie refill plan.
- Outbound Treeline – nothing special here except for the normal fluid and cookie refill plan.
- Outbound Twin Lakes – here we should have foul weather gear out and ready because they’d be heading up and over Hope Pass from here. He also anticipated that they’d sit down for a good rest ahead of the big climb.
Winfield – nothing special here except for the normal fluid and cookie refill plan. They would probably spend some time resting here. - Inbound Twin Lakes - here he’d be preparing for night. We’d need to have his headlamp and flashlight ready.
- Inbound Treeline – nothing special here except for the normal fluid and cookie refill plan.
- Inbound Fish Hatchery – nothing special here except for the normal fluid and cookie refill plan.
- Inbound Mayqueen – nothing special here either.
Toby arrived sometime in the afternoon and we went over the plans with him. Ken gave him an additional job to post to the blog when he could to keep family and runner homies in Austin informed. Toby had also brought a bunch of very well marked maps and had familiarized himself really well with how to get from aid station to aid station. He would be a very good navigator.
After the meeting, Adam and his family got settled in their room, Ken had a short rest, and Toby and I went to town for a few last minute supplies. We all met for an early dinner and Toby headed to where he was spending the night. The rest of us made it an early evening because the plan was to be up by 2:30 and be out at the starting area by 3:30.
Race Day!!
The StartI don’t even think we needed the alarm. Ken seemed to sleep some during the night. I barely slept.
Ken knocked on Adam’s door and got him moving. We each had a little breakfast. Jason arrived.
As we were heading out it was cool to see so many runners emerging from their rooms, loaded down with stuff, all about to endure the same epic experience. For what they were about to do, they all seemed very relaxed and happy.
The town of Leadville is truly supportive of this race; the coffee shop opened up at 2:30 to serve folks before the start, and the folks at our hotel had the little continental breakfast served up by 2:30 also.
The start area was bustling when we got there. Check-in there was pretty quick. We caught up with Toby, he shot a few pictures, the boys went for a little warm-up run, absurd as that may sound. I think they were just avoiding the porto-pottie line!
Everyone started lining up behind the starting line. The place was buzzing with energy! Someone was on a loudspeaker counting down. “Six minutes!” “Three minutes!” We had a good spot up in some bleachers and I could see Ken’s red hat in the crowd. I was trying to capture it all on the little video camera Mike had lent to us and as I watched through the screen I could also see the battery indicator going red. The runners all turned on their headlamps. “One minute!” Counting down the seconds now and…the camera shuts down! Someone shoots off a shotgun and off they go!
And off we went! We scattered…Adam went straight to the coffee shop, I hit the porto-pottie, and Toby was engaged in conversation with someone in the bleachers.
After Adam got coffee, we headed back to the hotel to load up the vehicle, another stop at the coffee shop, and then it was off to the first aid station at the Mayqueen campground.
Mayqueen Outbound – 13.5 miles
It was still dark when we got there about 30 minutes later. It was crowded but the parking guides were fabulous at each and every aid station. We parked, unloaded what we thought we’d need (chairs, water, Ken’s bag with his stuff) and walked what seemed like a long way - in the dark – to the aid station. We found a spot, set up, and waited.
Shortly after we got there the leaders came through. It was crowded and hard to see but it was still very exciting.
Just as twilight was beginning to eek in just a little bit, Ken and Jason arrived at about 6:15. They were genuinely having a good time. We - or maybe it was just me - were scrambling to get stuff together for them when one of them said “Hey, this isn’t an Indy 500 pit stop! You can relax!” 
I’m glad they said that! Now, with one aid station under our belt, and with it finally being daylight, I felt like I really could relax and start having some fun. And that’s exactly what we did! You can’t help it when you’re driving around in a vehicle with Toby and Adam and the conversation turns almost immediately to bathroom humor. Like any guy will tell you, it never ever gets old!
Fish Hatchery Outbound – 23.5 miles
By now the sun was up. It was a beautiful, crystal clear day. No wind, and no mention of rain.
We unloaded, set up, and waited. Toby made his first blog posting about Ken’s “kick arse crew.” John and Cindy arrived and saw firsthand what a kick arse crew looks like. Woefully, woefully unprepared at the Fish Hatchery, they took good notes, because by the afternoon they too would be a kick arse crew! 
Ken and Jason came through at about 8:25 a.m. Both were in great spirits for having just come over Sugarloaf Peak. We refilled Ken’s fluid supplies while they headed up to the aid station, checked in, grabbed some real food, and checked out. We put Ken’s Camelbak back on him and they headed back out.
Treeline Outbound - 27.5 miles
The next crew access point was just four miles away. We shared part of the route with the runners. It was starting to get a bit warm for both runners and crew at this point, especially along this paved section. On the way we passed Cindy Henges, which Toby reported in the blog as a “Henges sighting.” (Ken and I would have a good laugh later when his sister Shannon confessed that she didn’t know what a “Henges” was and googled it thinking it was a wild animal or something.)
To access Treeline – which my mental fog constantly kept mistaking for another aid station, Twin Lakes – was pretty tricky because we had to wind around some unmarked jeep roads but we had the benefit of being able to follow other crew vehicles.
There was no official aid station at Treeline. It was just an open gravel grove with a jeep road passing through it. There was no shade to speak of at all.
We unloaded, set up, and waited for just a short while. The guys came through pretty shortly. There wasn’t much to do because we had just seen them. They were both quite warm. Jason lamented about how flat the section was and asked for something with caffeine in it. And off they went. It was about 9:30 or 9:45.
The next stop would be the Twin Lakes aid station at 39.5 miles.
At the crew briefing they suggested that this might be a good time to go back into town, stock up on anything you might have forgotten, and fuel up your vehicle. We did exactly that and arranged to meet up with Adam’s wife and kids so they could join us at the next few stops. And John and Cindy headed to town to get their “kick arse” on. 
Twin Lakes – 39.5 miles
It was very congested getting over to Twin Lakes. There were lots of cars and we had to park a good distance away. The sun was strong and it was getting quite warm.
We unloaded, hauled a bunch of stuff into the aid station area, and found a pretty pleasant shady spot to set up and wait. Adam’s wife and two little boys were there (a 3½-year-old and a 1-year-old toddler) with us. The boys busied themselves playing with sticks and we hung out.
John and Cindy caught up with us, now fully "kick arse" themselves, complete with a styrofoam cooler filled with who knows what. But, whatever it was, it would work for Jason!
Ken and Jason came through at around 11:45. Jason seemed to have recovered since his tantrum at Treeline but Ken was really suffering. I could tell he was uncomfortably hot and exhausted. As he sat down he said, “We’re just gonna sit here for about 10 minutes.”
I wetted down a towel with ice water and put it on him. I wiped the sweat off his arms and applied some sunscreen to his arms and neck. He sat with the towel over his head for a few moments. It was hard to see him so uncomfortable. He complained about being full – so full he felt nauseous and couldn’t eat. Fortunately, he had been hydrating well. We knew it because his Camelbak was nearly empty at each stop.
Meredith had stressed that much of ultra-marathon running entails problem solving and having to make adjustments. Here, Ken had to make a nutrition adjustment. He realized that the mix of Carbo-Pro and E-load he had us loading up in his hand-held water bottle was filling him up too much. From here on he wanted only straight water in his hand-held.
We had his foul weather gear out and ready for him. He decided against taking it because the weather was so nice. He did have his Gore-Tex rain shell and his gloves with him at all times, so if there was a squall at the top – or anywhere during the course of the run – he’d be ready.
They sat for what seemed like just a couple of minutes when John started urging him to get up and get moving again. That’s one of the crew’s jobs, I realized. Keep the runner moving. Still, I knew they had intended to sit here a little longer to rest up for Hope Pass. While his voice never said it out loud, I swear his eyes said “no, I don’t want to get up.” He was weary and it broke my heart to have to agree with John and encourage them to get up and get going, especially when I knew they were about to go over Hope Pass. With Twin Lakes sitting at about 9,200 feet, they were about to climb almost 3,500 feet higher.
After Jason and Ken left, Cindy Henges came through Twin Lakes at about 12:15.
Chicked on Hope Pass – 50 miles
(Definition: if you’re a guy and a girl passes you, you’ve been “chicked”.)
Ken will tell you that Cindy passed him along the long jeep road into the Winfield aid station area. What I will tell you is that Ken and Jason got chicked on Hope Pass.
From Twin Lakes we made our way over to Winfield. We unloaded and again we were able to find a nice, shady spot to hang out. The kids played and we wandered around and checked out the scene. For about the hundredth time that day I said a silent prayer of thanks for the beautiful weather.
As we hung out, crews around us were receiving their runners. One guy gave us great hope; we overheard him telling his crew how great he felt coming into Winfield compared to how bad he felt back at Twin Lakes. It was a good example about how, in these long races, things change over and over for a runner. Some legs are good, some are better, some are really bad, and some can be great. This guy had had a great one. I hoped Ken and Jason did, too.
It was getting pretty well past the time we expected to see them arrive. They had originally estimated it might take them about 3.5 hours to do the 10.5 miles from Twin Lakes, over Hope Pass, to Winfield.
I wandered over to the runners’ chute where Toby and Adam were watching out. I spotted Kirk, who was going to pace Jason in for the entire inbound 50 miles. He was all decked out in true ultra runner fashion, looking like the surfers of the running fashion world. John was further out by the road watching runners approach from a good quarter-mile out. I think John had stepped in dog poop because it was pretty smelly over there.
At Winfield I spotted Caballo Blanco, an ultra runner made quasi-famous in the book “Born to Run”. Ken had read it a few weeks before and encouraged me to read it. Coincidentally, I had just finished it on the plane ride into Denver two days before. Sheesh! Was it two days ago I had arrived? It seemed like just a few hours ago! I was surprised to see him as a spectator. I was certain that, if he was there, he’d be running.
At a little before 4:00, I had my third Henges sighting of the day. Cindy had arrived into Winfield ahead of our intrepid heroes, Ken and Jason.
About 10 minutes after Cindy arrived, I saw Ken coming down the road. He headed into the aid tent to check in and weigh in. He had lost 3 pounds. Only 3 pounds! And more importantly, he felt great! He had recovered from the nauseous, full feeling he had at Twin Lakes. Leaving the Carbo-Pro/E-Load mixture out of his handheld had helped him recover.
He sat down and hung out for a few minutes. Jason arrived about five minutes later, really feeling bad. The weigh-in indicated that Jason had lost 14 pounds since the Friday medical check. Holy Cow! Interestingly, I had been chatting with a race volunteer earlier about the Winfield weigh-in’s. I asked her if they’d had to pull anybody for excessive weight loss. She told me that they don’t pull anyone for that. They inform the runner about how much weight he/she has lost and they let the runner make the decision. I found that surprising, that they’d let an exhausted, dehydrated runner make a decision like that.
Anyway, Ken was very upbeat and observant. He was keenly aware of how long it had taken them to make it over the pass (four hours!) and realized that it might likely get dark before they made it back over. It was he, not his crack crew, who reached for his flashlight and urged Kirk and Jason to carry lights leaving Winfield.
Both Ken and Jason had some ramen noodle soup. Ken urged Jason to eat some electrolyte capsules to balance out his hydration. Then, what seemed like too soon, it was time to get them on their way. Cindy was going to run with them as Ken’s pacer over the Pass. Jason had Kirk. Cindy promised the boys a surprise along the way, that she had “something to show them.” Jason’s wife Angie and Cindy had schemed up the surprise. Across Cindy’s butt cheeks, Angie had written “YOU” (left cheek) and “ROCK” (right cheek). The plan was for Cindy to drop trou atop Hope Pass and surprise them. Her hint of the surprise was a tease for later!
I walked Ken out to the long jeep road that led into the and out of the aid station area, gave him a kiss, and watched him go. Cindy, Kirk, and Jason headed on up the road after him.
The rest of us hung out for a time. We talked about how much of a recovery Ken had made, and how scary it was to see Jason feeling so badly. We speculated how long it would take them to get over the Pass. Someone guessed – correctly it would turn out – that with company along with them who had fresh legs, and with much more of a downhill component in this direction over the Pass, that they’d get to Twin Lakes sooner than we might think.
We also pondered Cindy Henges’ performance and realized that she had been behind them at Twin Lakes but ahead of them at Winfield. I verbalized it first, I think. Wow. Cindy had passed them going over Hope Pass. Someone asked if we think Ken and Jason realized that. My comment was this: Yes, they’re very much aware that Cindy passed them. They had been chicked fair and square on Hope Pass.
Twin Lakes Inbound – 60.5 miles
It was so pleasant at Winfield we might like to have stayed longer but Adam reminded us how congested it was at Twin Lakes earlier. The sooner we got moving, the – hopefully – easier it might be to get closer in. We were getting tired and it would be getting dark soon.
Controlled Chaos
We – the crew – were just over halfway into our adventure. By now we had seen all of the aid stations that we were going to access and it would be a matter of retracing our paths back to the start and meeting our guys along the way. We had the routine down pretty well by now. We were pretty new at this and we had got a look (with great envy!) at what other crews had over us in terms of organization. Labeled bins, laminated note cards, flat surfaces on which to lay supplies. Very impressive! We were able to find stuff for the most part, but there was a distinct element of moving chaos to our little caravan. I think our only real casualty was when I spilled pickle juice in the back of the vehicle because someone had not put the cover on securely.
Managing my own stuff was getting harder. I was regularly reaching for my sunscreen or the camera or the video camera or my sunglasses or a hat or jacket on or jacket off or gloves or a map or our notes or the course card Ken had made for us. At Winfield, something told me to take a careful look through my stuff to make sure I had everything. Sure enough, I did not have my running shoes with me. I had my other running apparel to wear when I paced Ken in from the final aid station to the finish, but – for some reason – I was compelled to check for my shoes and they weren’t with us.
After Winfield we knew we had about 3½ hours until they hit Twin Lakes again. Adam’s family was calling it a day and heading back to the hotel, so we all carpooled back to town so I could get my shoes. Adam jumped back in the vehicle with us and off to Twin Lakes we went.
Also, I was having spotty, unreliable voice reception on my phone. Oddly, I could send and receive text messages, but I couldn’t make or receive calls. John and Cindy were keeping Mike informed at home through pictures and email. Mike was keeping the blog updated with Ken’s, Jason’s, and Cindy’s progress. I was staying in touch with Ken’s sister Shannon, who had eventually just come out and asked me what a Henges sighting was. I was trying to check in with Ken’s Mom, his Dad, and even with my brother.
We spotted Kirk coming into Twin Lakes alone. He had run ahead to let us know Ken and Jason were a short distance behind him. The boys arrived and sat down for a few minutes. We got the report about Cindy’s cheek exposure on the Pass, but it sounded to me like she wimped out and only gave them a quick flash when they deserved a long, lingering, gazing look.
I don’t recall much about this stop, really. It was dark and dusty. Jason was feeling great again, as he would continue to for the rest of the run. I wondered what they put in his ramen soup up at Winfield to give him such a great boost.
Ken thought he must have rocks in his shoes. We took his shoes off him and helped him change into new socks, hoping it might give him some relief.
Before I knew it they were on their way with Kirk and Toby. I knew Ken was in good hands with Toby. As much of a clown as he can be, he’s very cautious and careful. It was 8:30 pm and we were over 18 hours since the start.
Now there were just two of us to pack up and haul everything back to the vehicle, which now smelled like pickle juice. There was a little restaurant near the car and Adam and I stopped in for a quick bite before we headed to the dreaded Treeline crew stop.
I have no idea how Adam got us into Treeline. But, we got there, and, yes, unloaded and hauled the stuff over to the trail. And the long wait began. It was now completely dark. The stars were spectacular. We had seen clouds roiling in the distance back at Twin Lakes. Toby, Mr. Amateur Meteorologist, had assured us the clouds were moving away from us. Turns out he was right, but we could see lightning going off somewhere. We found John, Cindy, and Angie in the darkness and we all settled in for the wait.
Treeline Inbound – 72.5 Miles
It was here that I exchanged bunch of text messages with Mike in Austin. It was getting a little cold. I thought of Ken’s kids and figured they’d be wondering how things were going. I had no voice service, but Adam did, so I had him call Madi for me. She and I chatted for a few minutes and I told her what I knew. She had been following the blog so she had an idea how things were going.
We wandered down to the area where runners were approaching. It was eerie to see this long parade of silent headlamps bobbing toward us through the darkness. It made both Cindy and me think of that Sci Fi movie from the ‘80’s, Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
Ken and Toby arrived about 20 or 25 minutes later. Ken was really, truly suffering. His feet were badly blistered. He was still hydrating well. Adam refilled the Camelbak and the hand-held and checked the cookie supply. He was drinking, but he wasn’t eating very well. Toby told us Ken had stopped to pee several times along the way. That was a good sign for us that Ken was well hydrated.
John took over for Toby and paced Ken from here. They headed to the Fish Hatchery and so did we. Cindy and Angie followed and met us there.
Fish Hatchery Inbound – 76.5 miles
Jason came through the Fish Hatchery at about 12:40. He and Kirk seemed to be doing just fine.
Ken and John came through over 45 minutes later. My hope was to get him to sit down in the aid station and get some real food in him. He didn’t want coffee. He reluctantly ate some ramen soup. Or maybe it was potato soup. Either way, he wasn’t into it. All he wanted was watermelon and grapes. John was paying attention, it seemed, because he grabbed bunch of grapes to take along with him for the rest of the leg. It’s a good thing he did.
Between the Fish Hatchery and the Mayqueen campground they would encounter their last real significant elevation changes by having to go over Sugarloaf Peak. The Fish Hatchery is at about 9,500 feet and this front side of Sugarloaf is a ghastly steep climb to almost 11,200 feet – almost 80 miles and over 21 hours into his race. Holy cow is all I can say. I’m almost verklempt just thinking about it.
Ken and John left the Fish Hatchery at about 1:30 on Sunday morning.
We packed the vehicle back up and headed to the Mayqueen campground. We got parked at Mayqueen. God…can it be that I was here almost 24 hours ago? And, can I say enough good things about the volunteers at all of the aid stations who were directing the parking? It occurred to me as this kind and pleasant individual directed us to a spot that it was the middle of the night. It could have been a raging rainstorm and he would still have been there, waving his welcoming flashlight for us.
We parked. I guess it was close to 2:00. We slept for a little while in the car. After a short while Toby got out and wandered off. I dozed for a while after that and wandered down to the aid station myself, just in time to see Jason come through at about 3:30. I went back up to the car and found Adam. We decided to try to move the car closer to the aid station. Then we unpacked and hauled the stuff in and waited.
I started getting a little nervous. It was getting very late. I asked the aid station officials if there had been any reports of runners dropping out. What runner number, they asked. I told them. They checked. No number 677 on the list.
Moments, and I do mean moments after that conversation I heard them announce that runner 677 was approaching. It was just before 5:00 a.m., a good 90 minutes ahead of the aid station cut-off. Thank goodness!
My memory of this point is blurry. We sat him down and tried to get him to eat. All he wanted was watermelon. Adam refilled Ken’s water. John warned me that I should push Ken as best I could because he was having such trouble.
Holy cow. Now it was up to me. This was a lot of pressure! Cindy, Toby, and John are all pretty tough pacer acts to follow!
I have to say that, even over 86 miles into his run, Ken had his wits about him. It was still dark, and just outside of the Mayqueen campground, we lost the trail for a moment. There was nobody immediately ahead of us to follow, but Ken knew that things weren’t right. Sure enough, we had overshot the turnoff by about 50 meters and we saw folks behind us making the correct turn. We doubled back and headed up the right trail.
It was all walking at this point. We were passing folks along the way, so that was a good sign. I kept whispering to him to try to pass the people ahead of him. He probably wanted me to shut the f up at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do! This trail running stuff is hard to calculate. Neither of us had a Garmin on and there were no mileage markings in the freaking woods. There was no way to know how fast we were moving.
We went along single track trail as the sun was rising. The lake became visible on the right. It was beautiful.
We walked and walked. We passed several other walkers. Luigi and Heather passed us. I was certain that Luigi was ahead of us. I had been confused back at Mayqueen because I thought I saw Heather, I even made eye contact, but she didn’t acknowledge me. I convinced myself it wasn’t her because I was so certain Luigi was ahead. But, there they were!
We came up on the boat ramp. At some point I took Ken’s Camelbak off him and carried it. I felt okay about it because I knew how well hydrated he had stayed. Then we came up on what I think was the powerline trail, a steep, rocky down that really hurt Ken’s feet. He gasped and moaned with almost every step.
Then we crossed some roadway then onto a jeep road where several much older racers passed us. I was noticing a lot of folks with those walking sticks that look like ski poles. I had asked about them earlier and someone explained to me that they helped take the weight off the walker’s downhill steps and also help stabilize. It made sense. But now I was seeing another advantage to them. As we walked along I was noticing Ken’s hands becoming more and more swollen with fluid. It was a natural consequence of gravity and I could see how the walking poles could help the walker keep his elbows at an angle that might prevent so much fluid buildup. It became more and more worrisome for me as we continued.
We were on this endless, endless uphill jeep road. Someone told us we only had seven miles left, then five miles left, then it sounded like someone told us again that we had seven miles left. Up and up this endless jeep road we went. It got sunnier and hotter. I forget at what point we knew he was going to get in under the cutoff, but I was never entirely without anxiety over it. He and I both just wanted to be done.
On we trudged. That damn jeep road turned a corner and kept climbing. Then we could see what we thought was the top and I could see Adam there with Sol. It was a very emotional moment for both Ken and Adam. Adam gave him a big brotherly hug and high five. Ken became a little overwhelmed briefly and had to stop and bend over, hands on his knees and just breathe for a bit, but we didn’t let it last for long. Don’t stop, babe! Keep moving. Please keep moving.
The Finish Line – 100 Miles
We were going at a pretty good power walk pace because Sol was having to really turn his little 3-year-old legs over to keep up. Adam called ahead and told Meredith (his wife, not the nutritionist I mentioned earlier) we were approaching. Toby got the cameras ready.
There was still some more uphill, then finally we could see the finish line. What a sight! It seemed like a long way to the finish line still, but it gave him – and all of us – a few moments to truly savor the idea that he was about to finish a damn 100-mile run across the sky. As we approached Jason came out and greeted Ken with a big hug. As Ken got near the red carpet and they held up the tape for him, I peeled off to the right Adam peeled off to the left. All the while, Toby was taking GREAT pictures and a video of Ken’s approach.
I watched from the side as a man in a red sweatshirt greeted him with a hug and fumbled with the finisher’s medal to put around his neck. He visited with Ken for several moments. It was the race founder, Ken Chlouber.
Ken was guided to the medical tent where he weighed in. He had lost 6 pounds since Friday. We would learn that Jason had actually gained a few pounds back from the 14 pounds he had lost on the outbound, thanks probably to the electrolyte capsules he started pounding.
Ken sat down to try to get some food – or something – in him. Cindy noticed his hands, too. She was very concerned. John noticed that Ken’s eyes were quite swollen too.
But there was no time to relax and enjoy the moment! It was almost 9:30 by now and we had to get cleaned up, packed up, and checked out of the hotel by 11:00!
Toby got the ball rolling and pulled the vehicle up as close as he could get it. Poor Ken could barely walk.
Heading Home in a Hurry
Thankfully, Toby and Adam hung around and , after I got the bags all packed, they hauled everything down to the vehicle, which, by the way, they had cleaned out almost immaculately after the last aid station. The crew’s work doesn’t end at Mayqueen!
Cindy was concerned enough about Ken’s fluid retention that she had John call us to persuade us not to get on the plane. I agreed, but Ken really didn’t want to change the travel plans again. So, we got in the pickle-smelly yet clean vehicle and headed for Denver on almost no sleep in over 33 hours, and sleep deprived from the night before the race.
We slept the entire flight home and had the best night’s sleep ever at home in our own bed on Sunday night.
The end.
A Few Lingering Thoughts
This was an amazing event. I think it was extra meaningful for all of us because we were all first-timers. We – on the crew, anyway – had a great time and we are still all fired up! Everyone’s talking about going back next year, even Ken and Jason.
We were blessed with beautiful weather. Had there been rain, cold, wind, or any combination thereof, I think we would still have had fun, but not as much fun.
This event had, for me, feelings of camaraderie and community, fellowship, and teamwork that I had never experienced before, not just between our little duet of crews, but also between other crews – Austinites and others. It was like a rolling party, or a progressive picnic. Crews brought along their dogs, their kids, and their good humor.
I detest porto-potties, as I’m sure most people do. But, this race was supported with the cleanest, best supplied porto-potties I’ve ever had to use.
I never really felt tired. We were always moving. Maybe we did get a little weary there in the wee hours between Treeline, Fish Hatchery, and Mayqueen. But there was always something to occupy us and keep us busy. Always something to chat about and share. And always the focus on the runners.
