Read below for a first-person account of Edgar Gonzalez's attempt at finishing a 100-mile run in the mountains of Colorado. It was definately a test of the human will and Edgar went after it with heart! Edgar, we are proud of you!
And remember - at UIW, we do it to the extreme!
Yes, it is over. My best friend Patrick and I got up @ 2a.m. Saturday morning, had one final meal of eggs, toast, and bacon, and slowly walked toward the starting line of the infamous Trail 100 in Leadville, CO. We had a game plan. We would stay close to the back, make the first check point in 2hrs,30min and hit the 50 mile mark in about 12 hours, 30 min. We felt great as we moved forward, that is, until we went off course within the first 13 miles. We got back on track but hit our first checkpoint 15 minutes slower than what we wanted. We were ok though. We met up with our crew, changed clothes to prepare for the rainy weather and moved forward.
There were 592 participants at the starting line. Patrick and I must have met about half of them along the course. We would find a person or group of people and run/climb/descend in single file for miles......and miles. The vibe was unmatched compared to any other race I have done. Determination was oozing out of every individuals cold breath. We get to mile 40 and Patrick and I are feeling like we could conquer the world. Our crew sees us and reassure us that we are looking great but we all new what was ahead of us. I 10 mile trail going over Hope Pass (just under 13,000 feet). It doesn't matter how good you feel when you start this trail. We were up for the biggest challenge of the day. We leave the 40 mile aid station at 9hrs,15min and finally reach the 50 mile turnaround 3 hrs,45min later. Thats a
22 min/mile pace for the 10 miles over Hope Pass. But we conquered it! We're at the 50 mile aid station, we eat, we change socks and clothes, and we head back. I was feeling like a rock star. Patrick on the other hand was having some knee pain but we stuck together.
Truthfully, the challenge is not getting over Hope Pass the first time. It's getting over it the second time on the way back. But we were up for it. We get over hope pass and hit the 60 mile aid station with 45 minutes to spare (cuttoff was 9:45 p.m. and we got there at 9a.m.). This is where I started getting worried. In my head 45 minutes is not enough. We need to get out of there quick. I start trekking up the second to last mountain before Patrick. He catches up and we're off together again. By this time, your mind starts getting loopy. I was glad it was night out. Patrick could not see the tears in my eyes. Everything hurt. My fear of not finishing was starting to get the best of me. We find a pack heading up the mountain and we stick with them. I slowly start fading. Patrick yells out every few minutes to make sure that I'm there and I reassure him that I will not stop. " Keep going. I'll recover and catch up." was my response to him everytime. His voice would eventually fade away and before I knew it I was on that wretched mountain alone, in pain and this is where the hallucinations struck me. From this point forward, it was hell. I was falling asleep on the trail, could not drink water because I had accidentally pee'd on the nozzles(i did not think to unscrew them and drink), and my back was stuck in a leaning forward position. Every few minutes or so I would hear someone behind me passing me up. I would move over to the side and let them through and would realize there was no one there. I was talking to myself, crying to myself, and cussing out the mountain. The mountain was alive and it's sole purpose was to break me. I finally made it out of the trail. I was on an open jeep road with 2.5 miles to go in 10 minutes to meet the checkpoint. Lindsay comes out of the darkness grabs my hand and begins to pull me toward the aid station. She was convinced we could make it. I began to believe.......again. We get to the aid station,
5 minutes too late. I was done. 70 miles in 20hrs and 50 minutes. I cried myself to sleep in the aid station tent shorly after they cut off my wrist band. A few hours later the rest of my crew would pick me up and take me to the next checkpoint where Patrick was in danger of not meeting the next cutoff. He runs in with 5 minutes to spare, eats, changes clothes, gives me a hug, and heads out toward the last mountain. I head to the cottage we were staying to get some rest before I would wake up to see Patrick cross the finish line. Well, that did not happen. Mile 85 was his breaking point. Search and rescue had to get him off the mountain. His knee was in bad shape and he showed symptoms of hyponatremia. We did not finish.
Of the 592 people that started the race, only 210 crossed the finish line. We added to the numbers that make this event one of the hardest in the world. Patrick will be back next year. I on the other hand will have to wait and see.
