2020 Sangre de Cristo Ultras – 50 Mile

Loving every second from the first trip up Music Pass (11,446 feet), the high point of the race.

• Race: Sangre de Cristo Ultras
• Distance: 48.44 Miles (According to Strava)
• Vertical Gain: 8,818 feet
• Time: 10:57:06
• Route Track: https://www.strava.com/activities/4084730853
• Place: 6th out of 38 finishers
• Runners: Zambo
• Date: Saturday, September 19, 2020

“If you want to run, run a mile.
If you want to experience a different life, run a marathon.
If you want to talk to God, run an ultra.” 

– Dean Karnazes (& Emil Zatopek)

2020’s Last Racing Hurrah

After running the Sheep Mountain 50k in August, I knew wasn’t quite ready to wrap up my season just yet. Originally, Ben, Brian, and I had planed to run the Devil on the Divide 50k in September. But, well, you know the drill. That race got cancelled, just like all the rest. Or, should I say, almost all the rest.

Human Potential Running Series was still offering their series of ultra marathons in the Sangres in mid-September. In what had long ago become obvious, these guys are basically the only outfit with the wherewithal / know-how / shrewdness / balls / whatever else it takes to actually put on a race this year. I gave them huge props for their preparation & procedures in my last TR, and I saw that all on full display again in this race. They know what they are doing. Huge kudos again for executing such a phenomenal race in the Sangres as well.

But despite knowing this race was confirmed, I still dragged my feet to actually sign up. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sure if I’d have the time to get the miles in I needed. Or maybe it was because I was sort of skeptical about the course. But mostly I think I was just hesitant to commit, knowing what a huge undertaking my first 50 miler would be.

Whatever the case, I finally signed up just a few weeks out. Like most decisions that drag on, it felt good to just lock it in.

With Katie’s encouragement, I journeyed down to spend the night in Leadville the Thursday night before the race, hoping to acclimatize a little bit. My final two mile shakeout run through town the next morning included dodging a major construction project, early morning meth-head encounters, and accidentally mistaking a local female construction worker for a dude. Suffice it to say, Leadville is as charming as ever.

Anyway, I burned the rest of the day before the race reading a book on top of Independence Pass (hadn’t been up there in a few years, so it was as good of an excuse as any for a nice drive), seeing Dillon’s new house in Salida, and then finally driving all the way to the start of the race south of Westcliffe.

Reading atop Independence Pass the day before the race. I brought a camp chair, warm clothes, a lunch, and a good book. My ratio of going to the mountains to relax vs. going to the mountains to exhaust myself on some adventure is basically 1:1,000, so it felt really nice to kick back and enjoy the views above tree line all morning with zero effort involved. The gapers got quite the kick out of my setup as well.

This start/finish area, as well as the general basecamp for all race operations, was in a huge open field called Music Meadows. This field is actually the private property of some ranchers in the Sangres who are supporters of the race. It is just about a quarter mile below the Grape Creek Trailhead, and it made for the perfect starting venue. I drove in and joined the hundred or so other cars and campers who were getting settled in and / or still arriving.

The view from above Music Meadows as the sun sets behind the Sangres. This huge field served as the starting line, finish line, check-in station, race headquarters, campground, and aid station during the race. It felt awesome to be hanging out with such a great running community in such a remote, lovely spot.

After checking in, the rest of Friday evening was spent making all of the pre-race preparations that had become old-hat at this point in the season: checking shoes, setting drop bags, dividing up food, gathering and organizing gear, putting on my bib, etc. After this race I’m more convinced than ever that there is actually a decent amount that experience can help with these sorts of things.

Anyway, I got to bed early to be sure I was well rested for my 5:50 am start time. I made the mistake of checking the news before nodding off, which pretty much instantly put me in a horrible mood. In retrospect though, I think this ended up being a good thing. It was a stark reminder to put off all other distractions for another day. Running 50 miles is enough of a mental burden without taking on the worries of the world in addition.

All that was left to do was go run the race.

Sangre de Cristo 50 Mile Race Report

“Every race distance starts AND ends with a trip up Music Pass because, yes, I am an asshole.”

– The Legendary Sherpa John Lacroix

The morning of the race saw runners released from the starting line in groups of 20 at 10 minute intervals. This series of races actually consisted of six unique distances, all happening at the same time: 200 miles, 100 miles, 100k, 50 miles, 50k, and 27k (on Sunday). All told, there were some ~275 runners who started across the various distances.

Just like Sheep Mountain, I found the staggered start times to be refreshing. No bathroom lines, no crowded starting trails, no crammed aid stations, and overall just a much more casual, relaxed atmosphere. I dig it.

The course was essentially three out-and-backs:

1. Up and down Music Pass. At 8.8 miles and 2,300 feet of gain, this was, by far, the biggest climb of the day.
2. North on the Rainbow trail to the Horn Creek Trailhead, then right back to the start area at Music Meadows.
3. Up and down Music Pass one last time.

A full map of the course for the 50 mile race.

Chilly early morning temps and a start time 30 minutes before sunrise made for one of those horrible what-should-I-wear-and-bring scenarios on the first leg of this race.

“For those of you new to ultras, there’s an old saying about pacing: Start slow and ease off.”

– Sherpa John’s advice to my wave just before we got moving

I started with a bunch of 50k runners (thanks to my last name) and settled in to the initial climb up Music Pass. It wasn’t all that bad. Essentially, the first 3.2 miles were just up a 4wd road. That meant it really wasn’t all that steep (at least, compared to most trails you find doing peaks) and the surface was pretty great too, barring the occasional rocky stretch. I knew it would be misery the second trip up, but for the morning, not too bad.

The real challenge was actually making sure I didn’t blitz too fast up this stretch and burn off precious energy I would need for later. There were two key factors that got me to slow my ass down after an initial hard charge out of the gate:

1. I found myself running with a 19 year old Air Force Cadet / collegiate athlete. He was a great guy, but I quickly realized hanging with the young buck on the first climb was going to be a bit too fast for my own good.
2. I thought back to John’s advice from the start and decided to heed it.

So, I settled in with a few other guys and eventually made a solid effort up to the pass.

The final 1.2 miles of the Music Pass climb went on single track from the upper trailhead. As always, it felt great to leave a road and get up into the alpine.

I believe those are Tijeras Peak (13,606′), Music Mountain (13,380′), and Milwaukee Peak (13,522′). This was actually my first-ever trip up there. The valley looked enticing, to say the very least.

The way back down from Music Pass was cruiser. The road made for fast running. Again, the challenge was not to over-do it. I found a solid pace and made very quick work of the descent. It took 1:10 to get up, and 0:35 to get down the first trip.

I mentally noted those times for later, as I knew the next trip up there would be far less easy.

Bombing down Music Pass in the morning as the sun starts to fill in everything.

Back to Music Meadows. The race would involve four separate trips to this aid station throughout the day: The start, Aid #1, Aid #5, and then the finish.

After 8.8 miles, I returned to Music Meadows, aka, aid station #1. I was right back where I started. But it was very welcomed this time as I paid the port-a-potties a glorious visit. From there, I made my way over to my drop bag and actually swapped packs. I knew the middle portions of the race had some long stretches without aid, so I figured a larger pack with a bigger water reservoir would be welcomed. That turned out to a great decision.

With new pack in hand, I headed back up the road and out towards the Rainbow Trail.

The next segment was a 6.7 mile stretch from Music Meadows (aid #1) to Colony Creek (aid #2). This was one of the best stretches of the day, as it was mostly open meadows with amazing views of all the wide pasture-lands east of the Sangres.

I synced up with a guy named Dan for most of the way from from Music Meadows (aid #1) and Colony Creek (aid #2). Dan was gunning for a much faster goal time than me, but at present, he was setting a perfect pace. And of course, the conversation made those miles go by easy. It was good to meet someone and hang together for this stretch.

Dan modeling the awesome trails and views along this stretch. The air was a bit smokey, but it could have been much, much worse. It cleared up as the day went along.

We reached the Colony Aid Staton (#2/5) in a great pace. It was cool to be at this aid station in particular as I had been here a number of times before on various trips up to climb the Crestones. But I had never been there with the intention of going on the Rainbow Trail.

Speaking of the Rainbow Trail, I was blown away all day at what a fantastic trail it really is. It was essentially an ATV double track the whole way. Certain stretches were fairly rocky, but on the whole, it had an excellent surface perfect for making a good time. Moreover, the trail essentially followed the contour lines of the Sangres lowest foothills, which made for relatively gentle grades all day.

All in all, I found the trail to be far less rugged than most of the front range trails I had been training on all summer. I couldn’t believe how runnable the whole thing was.

Anyway, after Colony Creek was the longest stretch of the day: 9.3 miles from Colony Creek (aid #2) to Horn Creek (aid #3). In my head, I decided this stretch (and the one after it, which back-tracked the exact same route), would be the cruxes of the day. I figured if I could get through those 19 miles in good shape, the rest would be doable.

So, I filled up my bladder to the brim at Colony Creek, grabbed some Oreos & gummy bears, and dove into the long stretch ahead.

High peaks kept poking their heads out all day from along the Rainbow Trail. After a while I gave up trying to identify each one. I found an unending, self-imposed geography quiz of CO’s high peaks was far too distracting given the task at hand.

The 9.3 mile stretch to Horn Creek had lots of rolling up and down, but the last ~2.5 miles or so was a long descent into the aid station. This was very welcome. The last time I had been up here was en-route to climb the Horn Group with a bunch-o-gapers way back in 2013 or something.

Horn Creek (aid #3) was 24.8 miles in – the exact half-way point of the race.

Feelin good at the half-way point. I sent this pic to a curious co-worker, hence the cheese.

At the Horn Creek Aid Station (#3/5) I took a bit more time to game plan for the second half of the race. Everything was coming together perfectly at this point. I was keen to keep it going that way.

I did so by swapping shirts, taking time to eat a more substantive meal of PB&J + a full Gatorade, lathering on copious amounts of Vaseline from the shared container (chafing definitely is worse than COVID), popping two ibuprofen and refilling my pack with snacks from my drop bag. It took a few extra minutes, but it was all time well spent.

When I finally rolled out of the aid station it was just after 11:00 AM – 5 hours and 10 minutes into the race. This put me nearly an hour ahead of where I had planned to be at this time and everything felt good. Time to keep pushing.

As expected, the 2.5 mile climb back up from the Horn Creek Aid Station was no fun. But it was not nearly as bad as I had expected. The views sure helped.

Give it a week or so and these Aspens would be straight poppin!

The 9.3 mile stretch from Horn Creek (aid #3) back to Colony Creek (aid #4) was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. I was able to set a real nice pace, slow-jogging and power hiking the uphills, while pushing myself on the downs. Looking back at my splits later, I was pleased to see I kept well under my ‘stretch’ goal pace this whole section despite the mileage.

I made quick work of the Colony Creek Aid Station and kept pushing. I knew the next section would feel short by comparison (6.7 miles). Plus it was mostly downhill and all basically a lead up to the upcoming effort for Music Pass. I locked in accordingly and put all my focus on just getting to Music Meadows to prepare for that final push.

Running back through the open meadows en-route to the return to Music Meadows. The weather we were having was perfect all day: lower 70’s for the high with a soft breeze. That was especially welcomed for this stretch without trees. I could see this segment being terrible if it was too hot out. But as it was, the weather felt glorious.

Following the overall leader of the 100k through this section. It felt good to have someone to tail again after many miles alone on the course.

When I finally made it back to Music Meadows (the fifth and final aid station of the day) I was feeling pretty dang proud of myself. I had continued to feel real good (or at least, as good as you can after running 41 miles) all the way back from Horn Creek (i.e. the last 16 miles). I was keeping to my pace perfectly and everything that could have gone right, was.

So perfectly, in fact, that I knew breaking 11 hours was well within the realm of possibility.  I would need to dig deep, but it was there.

With this in mid, I was very intentional about how I spent time at the final aid station. I moved fast, but I was still able to eat another full sandwich, drink another Gatorade, swap packs again to a much lighter running vest, take a double salt portion, eat a banana, and finally start using my hiking poles for the first time all day. All crucial steps for the big effort that would be needed to run sub-11 hours.

I left the aid station and texted my crew, “Leaving Music Meadows at 2:42 PM. Sub-11 might be possible, but doubtful. 4:50 is the time to beat!”

I’d say that text summed up my feelings pretty well. Doing the math in my head, I had to make it up and down the pass in 2:08. I had done it in the morning in 1:45. So, it was possible, but it would take a big effort.

I met this dude – Jacob Stevens – on the final trip up Music Pass. Judging by the bib (and the way he was walking) I knew he was a 200 miler. What a legend. I had to get a pic. There were 11 people who started the 200 miler race (it was actually 208 miles) and 5 who finished. As I learned later, Jacob ended up winning the whole thing, in a time of 85 hours and 56 minutes. Wow. No idea what to even say about that. But here he is, all smiles after running ~202 miles by this point.

Passing Jacob was a good bit of extra inspiration, but it mostly just piled on to what I was already feeling inside. To be honest, the next 8.8 miles up and down the pass are some of the most proud ones I have ever had in the hills.

I was very tired, no doubt, but the higher and higher I got, the more and more determined I was to give it my absolute all to try to break 11 hours. It wasn’t even so much that I wanted to beat that time specifically, which was already a full HOUR ahead of my “stretch” goal time. It may sound strange, but it was more so like this was a chance to prove myself worthy of all the training I had put in to get to this point. I had put in a ton of sacrifice to be able to do this. I kept thinking about all the hours, all the miles, all the early Saturday mornings, all the time away form my family, and all the effort spent slogging through the mountains throughout 2020. I wanted to summon the guts and determination to really push this stretch and do honor to all the training I had done, if that makes sense. This was the place and now was the time.

And so I did.

I pushed hard the whole way up the pass. I didn’t let up. But I also did it smart. I knew exactly how fast I needed to go. When to power hike. When to run. And when to not let myself slow down, which was always oh-so-tempting to do.

The coolest part about this was that my body responded 100% in lock step with what I was trying to do. As sentimental as it may sound, it was as if I could feel all those hours, miles, and mountains climbed being summoned to give me the final push. My legs were trained for this and they were ready. They responded perfectly.

Standing atop Music Pass for the second time at exactly 4:02 PM. I had to make it down the last 4.4 miles in 48 minutes to beat 11 hours.

The whole descent down Music Pass was a bit of a blur. It was essentially a concerted effort to go as fast as my body would let me without A) Catching a toe and absolutely wrecking myself on the road, and B) Doing any sort of quick movement which would cause me to cramp up.

The whole time I was watching the clock pretty closely. By the time the Grape Creek TH finally arrived, I was closing in on the minutes. With one final hurrah, I managed to clip off a mad sprint through the final half mile, flustering no small number of hundred miler chicks who were calmly trying to just make their way in and out of the aid station peacefully. Sorry gals.

When it was all said and done, I had made it down with 3 minutes to spare. The first thing I did was confirm with the official timekeeper that I had gone under 11 hours. Then it was time to go find the family and crash. Hard.

World’s best finish line crew.

Prolly the best way to spend the post-race hour.

A huge thank you to this crew for meeting me at the finish and coming out to support!

And for playing with my kids all day.

Wally still doesn’t know what to make of all this, but I’m confident he’ll make it there someday.

Looking back on the effort a few weeks later, I feel just as proud of this now as I did then. I feel like it’s become somewhat of a cliché these days to pontificate (especially on social media via ‘influencers’ – absolutely horrid human specimens) about “chasing your dreams” or “working towards a goal” or other “inspirational” quotes like that. So, I won’t pile on much here.

But what I will say is that I still feel a deep sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, and pride from my race. This was one where everything that could go right, did. I have been running long enough to know how rare that is. To prepare, train, work your tail off and have it all come together in a hugely successfully way is special.

So special, in fact, that I’d use another word to describe the emotion I felt: joy.

Too many of us chase happiness, which is fleeting. It is easily found and quickly snatched away. Joy is something much more profound and long-lasting. It sticks with you and is something you can carry for long after. I felt nothing but joy after finishing this race, and I have a sneaking suspicion that is a feeling I’ll be able to draw from in the months and years ahead. For that, I am very thankful.

Thanks for reading if you did. Enjoy the trails out there!

Actually just kidding. The only reason I do any of this stuff is for Strava kudos. Just LOOK at those calories!

My mom – who is the world’s greatest mom, BTW – had this waiting for me when I got home late that night. Like I said, she’s the uncontested greatest.

One last goodbye to the Sangres.

I still can’t get over how cool these things are. Here’s a full recap of the day. (stats are all wrong tho.)