Here we stand behind a makeshift starting line shoulder to shoulder with 40 plus other trail warriors. The dirt parking lot is littered with the shadows of the participants. The air is thick with the musty aroma of old shoes, body glide, coffee and the nearby porta-potty. With 2 minutes to start their will be tension coursing through your veins whether this is the first or 100th time toeing the start of an event. There is that ever so familiar feeling of anxiousness overpowered by either doubt or confidence. Now you approach the starting line that was determined minutes ago, all of those feelings will have reached a peak. You wait for the signal that never comes but everyone around you begins to move. You begin to run in unison and finally start to hear the pitter patter of pebbles being chased away by your shoes. The crumble of gravel beneath your feet let you know its official, it has started. Those first few steps leave behind an empty footprint. The proceeding steps leave behind even more footprints filled with your fear and uncertainty. For the next 26 plus miles the only thing that matters is the next step. This is the feeling that I got at my first trail race and will be the feeling I will have at the beginning of my last trail race.
Today what I will be embarking on is not a race, rather just a gathering of mentally and physically strong and stubborn runners running up and down Towers Road. What is Towers Road you ask...it is a 7 mile out and back with 1700 feet of climbing and 1700 feet of descent. The goal here today was not to beat your fellow runner, but work together and see how many horizontal and vertical miles we can complete. Our target was to achieve 750 miles and 325,000 vertical feet. The group huddles around a bench that Mr. Slusher was standing upon to hear the final words before the beginning. "Pretty basic...run up...run down...repeat. Start at 7am end at 7am tomorrow morning....good luck and god speed"(at least that’s what I heard). 3...2....1, and we are off. I watch as the fleet footed ones take off at a speedy clip as I hang back with my herd. We trot along the smooth single track and onto the wide fire road known as Towers. This was going to be a very, very long day/night of glute grinding climbs and quad burning descents. I planned to walk the major up hills, and run most of the rest of this challenging course.
Skipping ahead...I have just completed my 2nd full lap at 10:00am, 1:30 per lap. I run right through our camp site to refill and re-strategize. It was getting hot, and I mean scorching out. I decided to carry a second bottle on this next lap and see how that treated me. The sun was in full effect and blistering my skin with each wincing moment of exposure. I charge back out onto the singletrack and hang a left onto Towers road for the 3rd time around. I still feel strong enough on the climbs to power hike at a steady rate. I run into Celeste and Mindy on the trail, they are just cruising along up the road. I had run with both of these strong runners as 24 Hours of Moab months back. Collectively our teams ran 260 miles between the 9 of us, today was going to be a similar test of mental and physical toughness.
Finally I summit and slap the building after a good 50+ minute grind, turn back and pick my way precariously through the first few steeps until I find a steady, smooth stride to get my ass back down this beast. On the way I cross paths with a few more familiar faces. I see Cat, Alex, Pete and Marie. This group of 4 tenacious trail warriors has covered 1000’s of miles in some of the most extreme races across the country; Leadville, Vermont, Western States, Hardrock, Leanhorse, Bighorn, Wasatch…the list goes on. They do this all while supporting either jobs or families..Or both. They run and play in the mountains like ferociously fleet footed animals prancing up and down mountains.
Looking back a few years I met this group of ultra athletes one warm August Fort Collins day at my first run with the Ft Collins Trail Runners. I showed up in my basketball shorts, off brand clearance shoes and a cotton T shirt. I kept mostly to myself as we ran in unison down the Reservoir Ridge trail to begin a fairly hefty climb for my ability level. Immediately I was out of my comfort zone, trudging up this what seemed like a mountain side. My lungs screamed for more air, legs cried for a break, heart beat rapidly enough to break a sweat. Everything in my was saying stop, stop, stop. I was pushed from behind and pulled from upfront, I had nowhere to go but up. It never got easier, I was hurting…hurting badly. Through wind-teared eyes and the cloud of sweat and discomfort I looked for a way out. All I could see in front of me was Pete and Marie chatting along as if on a walk in the park. I focused in what they were doing different, they were having fun. The sort of fun that you had as a kid running through the sprinkler or after the ice cream truck. No, they weren’t giggling, jumping and screaming…but you can just tell through their relaxed tone and confident smiles. I watched their form…loose hands, relaxed shoulders, leaning into the hill, feet underneath their hips, short strong strides..most of all they were in control. I adjusted myself..”OK Rob, relax….relaxxxx..RE-FU#%ing-lax!”. I shortened my stride and began to drive myself up the hill rather than reaching and pulling. “What a world of difference!” We summit the climb and peer over and down to Horsetooth Reservoir, “Holy hell, what a view” I cry. Can’t really replace a view like that, especially not in NY. I had been in CO for a few weeks now, and realized what the craze is all about. This was just absolutely astounding. We trotted along gently down the other side and for the first time I felt in control. I began to chat a bit with both Marie and Pete. I sort of cut in on their discussion about ultra marathons. Ultra marathons? What the hell? I have heard of a marathon, but an ultra marathon..That was a new term. I dug a bit deeper and picked both of their brains about this topic. 50 kilometers, 50 miles, 100+ miles, vertical ascent, aid stations, beer, pacers, switchbacks, beer, single track, crewing, salt tabs, beer, body glide…the list went on. I then made 2 realizations. I was surrounded by a group of freaking nut jobs. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that to themselves?”, I ask. Both peered at one another and then back at me with the “why not” sort of look. The other realization…I want to do one. I know my longest run has been about 6 or 7 miles, but something about it intrigued me. Maybe it was the challenge, or maybe the determination it took to cover 100’s of miles by foot..Most likely it was because I had no idea what I was getting into. All I knew is that I found a new love for the mountains and for running. I looked at this group of runners and thought “one day I want to be like them, I want to run up and down mountains…I want to be an ultra runner”.
Back to reality...101 degrees…back down Towers for the 3rd time 21 miles and 5100 vertical feet later. “F%*k my life it’s hot out” I whisper to myself. I grab a seat in the shade with Alex and Brian. We make small talk then head out for another lap. I do my best to keep up with Alex’s strong uphill stride but eventually lose the battle with the trail. Dehydration is creeping up quickly and once again my bottles are dry before the summit. I give the building one more faint, tired slap and begin my descent once again. I cruise all the way down and right to the watering hole. I drown myself in lukewarm water like I had been wandering the desert for months. I haven’t been able to pee for 6 hours now…time to rethink this whole thing. Mallory and I make the conscious decisions to get out of the heat. We head over to the bar to grab an ice cream sandwich and a beer. Come back to the campsite blasting ACDC’s “Highway to Hell” over the car stereo. The song could not have been more fitting. Rejuvenated and re-motivated I get ready to head back out on another lap. Mallory and I begin our next laps together. This is the lap that will take her past the 26.2 mile mark and into the world of ultra marathons. 3 weeks ago, trails and runs over 13 miles were totally unappealing to her. She smoked the climb and got ready for the descent. On the way down we passed many fatigued faces and then the face of Cat. She was on her 6th lap, she showed emotion. It wasn’t fatigue, it wasn’t dehydration…her body may have been screaming..But all you could see on her face was the joy of it all. The joy of running up and down the same mean, steep, unforgiving road. This is one of the strongest people I know. Her mind, body and spirit had unbelievable strength, this was the face of ultra running to me.
We exchange encouragement and go our ways. 5 laps down I refuel, grab my light and a buddy for the trail. We pace off of each other dodging rattlesnakes along the way. We charge through all of the climbs for my fastest summit of the day. Slap the building..Turn around and see the immense panoramic view of Fort Collins at its best. As I peer down to the lights flickering in the distance I begin think back a bit.
6 years ago as a 250 lb, unhealthy and unmotivated high school student I had no direction to my post high school life. Leaving class one afternoon I stroll past the track so look at the cross country team during practice. I see their athletic bodies prancing around and around and think to myself. I can’t run more than half a lap without extreme pain in my chubby swollen knees and feet, how do they make it look so easy. With a BMI of 40, running just wasn’t for me. I had fractured feet from simply walking around with an extra 100 lbs on top. I make a promise to myself, to one day try and lose weight. I knew running wouldn’t be my answer but id find something. I viewed this track team as super human, and I was simply a large, unwilling but hopeful teenager. I continue to walk on and laugh at the thought of my rotund body attempting to run. “Would be nice, but I could never do that, I’d be happy if one day I could run a non-stop mile”. I walk until they are out of sight, and place this pipe dream of running way down in the bottom of my self pity and frustration.
I snap back into reality to begin my final descent of the night. 40+ miles on my feet I feel great. We run lightly but swiftly down the mountainside in the darkness and I recite to myself…”the woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep”. The Fort Collins Trail Runners and company showed up today in the biggest way possible. Collectively we ran just under 1500 miles and climbed 350,000 vertical feet. This was a day of support, personal achievments, wonderful success, immense beauty and trail running at its best. I already cannot wait for this event next year, this is the sort of event that sets you apart from your prior self. No matter what level you are at, this road, this event and this group of true running heroes will challegne and make you stronger. I can finally see how far I have come, but not without the nudges in the right direction by some of the most inspiring people in my life.
“I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep
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