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By Paul Kirsch,
Madison, New Hampshire
September 2001
I originally wrote this for my running club newsletter (The White Mountain Milers in Mt. Washington Valley, New Hampshire).
I first heard about the Pikes Peak race from a woman from
Boulder, Colorado back in 1998. She and
I were running together for awhile during that year's Mt. Washington Race (my
first) and she remarked to me that she thought Washington was a lot harder than
Pikes Peak. Hearing about Pikes Peak
from her really intrigued me. I had
only been running for two years at that point so I set a goal for myself of
trying to Pikes Peak when I turned 35, in 2001. Back then that seemed safely far off in the future that I
wouldn't have to face the reality of running up a 14,000 foot mountain anytime
soon.
As always happens, time flew by and
it was suddenly the fall of 2000. I
went out to the Pikes Peak website and looked up information on the race. It said to run the Pikes Peak Marathon, you
needed to have either previously run a marathon before (I hadn't) or have run
in the Ascent. Finding that out I read
about the Ascent so I could learn more about the race. It sounded pretty intimidating- 13 miles
uphill, almost 8000 feet of elevation gain and the average finish time was 4
hours and 20 minutes.
They had a section on training for
the race and it said to train like you would for a flatland marathon and also
do lots of hills. The marathon training
concerned me the most of all since my longest run ever at that point was 14
miles. So, I signed up for the race and
began looking into marathon training programs.
I had a basic book on running by Jeff Galloway that had a whole section
on marathons. He talked about how he
had changed his views over the years and that to run a marathon it was possible
to do it by sticking to your regular weekly mileage but to add in a long run
every two weeks. This long run should
increase by ten minutes every two weeks with the longest one being several
miles more than the distance you plan on running. This sounded like a feasible plan to me- run my usual 25-30
miles/week and then do one long run every two weeks. Since I was shooting to condition myself for time rather than
just the 13 miles, I planned to peak at a 4 hour and 30 minute long run in the
middle of July.
As I went out and did that first 10
mile run back in October of 2000, I
tried not to think too much about what it would actually be like to run another
16 or 17 miles. Luckily, over time
since I was only adding 10 minutes to each of those long runs, it didn't seem
as daunting. I did a lot of these long
runs on the dirt roads of Eaton, Freedom and Tamworth where hills always seem
to be plentiful. I still vividly
remember that first 4 hour run. It
seemed strange to leave the house at 5 AM and tell my wife, "I'm going out
for my run now, I'll be back in 4 hours."
Finally the summer rolled around and
I got my first test of how my training was going- the Mt. Washington Race. I felt confident I would have my best time
ever. Then I got a big dose of reality
come race day. With temperatures near
90 at the start, I went out too fast and had my worst time ever. It was a big disappointment but, in the long
run, a valuable lesson for me for Pikes Peak that I shouldn't go out too fast.
Come the middle of August, my family
and I got on a plane to Denver to spend a week sightseeing and getting used to
the altitude the week before the race.
I remember booking some of our motels by their altitude hoping that I
could force as much acclimation into the week as possible. As we made our way down to Colorado Springs
I finally got to see the peak. It
looked so much taller than anything around it.
The fact that the top of it was covered in storm clouds didn't make it
seem any less intimidating.
The morning of the race I remember
standing at the start line looking to the top of the peak. It seemed *really* far away but I figured
there was no turning back now. The
couple of hours before the race was filled with lots of conversations with
people from all over. I found myself
being the only one from Northern New England, with most of the runners coming
from either Colorado, New Mexico, Texas or Kansas. There's this one group of runners from Arkansas that were really
fun. They come back every year to run
the race and they all have their Arkansas Razorback race singlets on. There's another group of women who run the
race every year who have started a group called Peak Busters. It's open only to women who run the
race. Made me think how cool it would
be to get a Miler's team together to do the race one of these years.
Once the race started, I kept trying
to remember the "slow down" mantra that I read about on Matt Carpenter’s web page. It was killing me to hold back so much at
the beginning of a race- especially in a race where there is so much spectator
cheering and positive energy as you run through Manitou Springs.
As we headed off the road and onto
the Barr Trail going up the first mountain (Mt. Manitou), things started
getting crowded. Half the people who
were running on the road were now walking.
The rest of us spent a lot of time trying to pass, sometimes
successfully and sometimes having to wait until we found an opening. The first few miles you're running up
switchbacks that are less than two people wide at most spots. I tried to look out as much as possible to
take in the amazing view.
At mile 4, I started to get a
burning feeling in my lungs and the beginning of a headache- both signs of the
increase in altitude. I figured that
was a sign for me to hold back a little and make sure I kept my fluids up. I started going into a half run/half walk
pace and made sure I sipped water the whole way. Gu also became my best friend.
I had brought 5 tubes of it with me and tried to stick to having one
every hour. I think between the water
and the Gu, I was able to fight off some of the bad effects of the altitude.
Around mile 6, the trail began to
level out. We were nearing the summit
of Mt. Manitou. At first I figured it would
last for just a few yards but then as I looked ahead, I could see it was level
for quite awhile. I went back into a
full run. The trail got much wider on
the top of the mountain so passing was much easier to do.
The miles continued to pass away until
I hit Barr Camp at 10,000 feet. The air
was starting to get thin and so were the trees. I still felt pretty good but I was starting to get anxious as we
approached tree line. I kept expecting
the altitude to give me a real jolt at some point but luckily it happens
gradually so you hardly notice it.
Each of the water stations along the
race are manned by some really wonderful volunteers. They cheer as you come in, help you fill your water bottles and
give you cups of water and gatorade while you wait. Since I brought a camera along with me, I would end up asking
people at the water stops to take a picture of me. They were always more than happy to do it. I later found out that many of the
volunteers go to their stations the Friday before the race and camp there until
after the Marathon on Sunday. It's a
dedicated bunch of volunteers!.
When we finally broke treeline
around 11,000 feet the trail became very barren. Everything around you was reddish brown. As I left the water station there, there was
a big banner that said "You're getting high and it's legal." A good dose of humor that I needed right
then. I started to notice at this point
that anything much past a shuffle-run wasn't possible. I started to look up at the trail up ahead
of us but I found that every time I looked up, the altitude would hit me and
I'd get light headed. I spent most of
time staring down at my feet for the rest of the course so I didn't fall.
With about 2 miles to go, you can
hear the announcer at the finish. At first
this was a total morale booster, knowing that I was near the top. Then this guy from Oklahoma (also named
Paul) who I had been running with for the last couple of miles reminded me that
at our current pace, that meant we were about 50 minutes from the finish (The
average pace for the last two miles of the race is approximately 30
minutes/mile). Keeping that in mind, I
went back to focusing on my feet and shuffling along a step at a time.
Finally, we hit the 1mile to go
marker. At that point we started to see
the first bits of snow on the trail. It
had snowed on the top the day before the race and we were hoping that the
footing wouldn't start to get bad.
Luckily, there were only a couple of slick sections. Since I had started in the second wave of
runners, we were starting to catch up with the people at the end of the first
wave. To get into the first wave, you
have to have either run the Ascent before in less than 4 hours and 20 minutes
or have run a flatland marathon in less than 3:50. Since I had done neither, I had to start in the second wave. My advice to anyone who thinks they can
finish in less than 4:20 is to try and get in the first wave. Otherwise, you hit the same pack of people I
did in the last mile. Passing becomes
extremely difficult as the end of the first wave and beginning of the second
wave meet.
After what seemed like an eternity,
I finally saw the finish line. I
sprinted for about the last twenty yards and crossed the line. It felt wonderful to finally finish. I walked around the top for about 15-20
minutes, talking to other runners and looking through the gift shop. After 5 minutes at the top, the race
adrenaline left me and the altitude really hit me hard. Everything I did then seemed slow and
deliberate (especially noticeable as I navigated the breakables aisle in the
gift shop). As I rode down I was happy
to reflect back on all the months of training and realize that I had done it, I
finished my first Pikes Peak race.
Looking back on the race now, my
advice to anyone else looking to do the Pikes Peak Ascent is to train with lots
of hills and focus on long endurance runs.
This race is as much a mental test as anything else; just getting your
mind used to the concept of being out on a four or five hour run. The course is actually a little easier than
Mt. Washington in terms of steepness, it's just that you have the altitude and
distance to make it feel harder. I also
learned the hard way not to spend too much time on top after the race. My lingering around up there caused me to
have a pretty unpleasant afternoon back at the hotel after the race. I spent most of it lying in bed and trying
to eat something. What I've read since
then has said the best thing to do is to get off the top as quickly as possible
and then eat some real food (i.e. not just Gu) as soon as you get to the
bottom- even if it's just a protein shake.
I'll have to remember that for next time.
Hopefully in about five years I'll
go out and do the Marathon. Maybe by
that time we can get a Miler's team together to go out and run it as well.
My pictures from the race are online
at http://www.picturetrail.com/paulkirsch2000