Last month, I was supposed to toe the line at the Hardrock 100. Located in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado, the race is one of the most beautiful and challenging courses that one can find. This, combined with its small field size, makes the opportunity to compete in the race something to be cherished.
The race has been on my radar for many years. I had my first experience with it when I paced my buddy Brandon Stapanowich through the back half of the race in 2016. I then gained entry for the 2017 race, but surrendered my spot after injuring my back that spring.
Over the next six years, I opted to focus on other things. Then, in the fall of 2023, I decided it was time to put my name back in the hat. I was selected as a “Dale’s pick” (in addition to the lottery system, Dale Garland, the race director, hand-picks three men and three women to compete in the race), and it was game on.
Specifying Training For Hardrock
Stoked to have a spot, I set my eyes on the race and trained accordingly. Throughout the winter and spring, I climbed a lot of vertical, largely on snowshoes and skis in Bend, Oregon. Then in April I hopped in my little bus and headed for the thin air of Colorado. I spent the next several months training my body for the high-altitude challenge that lay ahead.
What I love about training for Hardrock was that it dictated the kind of training that I love: lots of vertical, steep ups and downs, long days in the mountains, and lots of time spent in high alpine terrain. When picking a race, it’s good to remember that you’ll spend a day or so running the race itself — but many days, weeks, even months training for it.
With that in mind, there is a lot of value in picking races for which you’ll enjoy training (although doing the opposite can also have its place). But, to get back to the matter at hand, I loved training for Hardrock, and as race week approached, I was excited to get out on the course and see what I could do.
Unfortunately, one week out from the race I found myself rushing off to the emergency room with severe abdominal pain. Within a few hours, it was discovered that I had acute appendicitis, and I was quickly sent off to have my appendix removed. This was not the sort of taper week I had imagined.
Though the surgery went very well, and recovery was quite smooth, in the end I would not race. A tough break for sure, but what could I do?
A Myriad of Possibilities
With my big training goal out the window, I looked ahead to what I might be able to do instead. In a way, it was exciting. I had loads of fitness, appendectomy recovery was proving to be pretty cruiser, and there were myriad options on the table. The Leadville 100 Mile, Diagonale des Fous, Nolan’s 14, Pikes Peak Marathon, Les Templiers, and The Rut were all things that came to mind. So many great ideas, and yet I struggled to feel like my heart was truly in any of them.
It’s not that I wasn’t interested in any of these things. To be honest, they all intrigued me in some way. It simply, or maybe complexly, felt like my head and heart had been so invested in Hardrock that I was having trouble shifting gears to something else.
Feeling indecisive, I decided that I would head over to the Leadville, Colorado area. My thought was that I would spend the week training as though I were preparing for the Leadville 100 Mile, while still giving myself space to decide what I wanted to do. To me it seemed reasonable enough, as I would keep virtually all of my options open while still giving myself some time to make a decision.
In the end, my knee — which I have been dealing with/managing for much of the year — became very aggravated. Feeling a need to get on top of it, I headed back to Manitou Springs, Colorado, and started working with my physical therapist.
Finding Focus
Although it’s been frustrating to be sidelined by my knee, there is still a silver lining. After Hardrock, I felt a bit lost, but now my knee has given me a bit of direction. Sure, I still think about what I might do if my knee turns the corner, but in the meantime I’m focused on fixing the immediate need.
The situation makes me think back to my caretaking days at Barr Camp, an off-grid mountain hut on the side of Pikes Peak in Colorado. Barr Camp was a very busy place, so it paid to make efficient use of time.
Sometimes, I would find myself standing in the kitchen, with so much to do that it felt hard to know where to start. In those moments, I learned to just start doing something. Everything had to be done eventually, so rather than stand idle, contemplating my next move, I would simply pick something, often the low-hanging fruit, and strategize as I went.
This is essentially what I was doing when I chose to train for the Leadville 100 Mile for a week. And though you could argue that it might not have been the best move, in the end it got me to the next thing, the realization that I needed to tend to my knee.
And now as I tend to my knee, I’m riding my gravel bike and toying with the idea of a race on wheels. Seems there are some good ones coming up this fall in Pennsylvania.
And so begins the journey of a thousand nows, the space in which we do what we can while we dream, prepare, and plan for what might lie ahead. Hopefully, the bike will lead to a run and a run to a race.
Perhaps the timing of it all will clarify which race it should be. Maybe the decisions that felt so difficult and unclear following Hardrock will start to fall into place.
I haven’t a crystal ball with which to peer into the future. All I have is the here and now, but honestly, that’s all I need. One pedal stroke at a time, then hopefully some strides. Let’s go! Or in the spirit of the American track and field athletes at this year’s Olympics, here comes the bell lap, GERONIMOOOO!!!
Call for Comments
- Have you had any hard knocks like this with your running goals?
- How did you find the positives in your situation?