Hardrock

As I'm quick to tell anyone who will listen, Hardrock is where ultrarunning began for me. In 2008 my dad and I spent a week in the San Juans around Silverton, truck camping and hiking a lot. Every morning at 5:00 am we would get up and go out into the mountains with our packs. I routinely split and went off on my own, climbing up to high passes and traversing huge ridgelines for miles by myself and eventually coming back to the truck after hours of hiking and climbing. I can remember being really psyched with long, difficult hiking in the mountains and how far I could travel in a day. We started making a game of finding the biggest lines through the mountains - the ones that traverse peaks, ridges and cirques all in one long enchainment - and bringing them to life the next day. So when Hardrock started I was fully fit and feeling very at home already in the mountains. And that's when everything clicked. Standing at the Engineer aid station and seeing first Kyle Skaggs and then everyone else come through was literally life-changing. I was seeing what I wanted to do with my life. You don't have to carry a huge backpack and go slow all day when you're fit and wearing running shoes. After that I started going up into the mountains a lot more with the sole intention of mountain running, and after about a month I signed up for my first 50K. Now I'm here.

Hardrock is not just where ultras began for me, but also the embodiment of everything I love about the sport. The mountains are huge and unforgiving. They're stunningly beautiful and endlessly complex, which lends an air of remoteness to the race that can't be found many places in the world these days. The San Juans are the best example of Colorado's mountains, and Hardrock is the best example of ultrarunning. Many people have problems with the race because its mission is not so much about competition as it is about experience, and the lottery becomes more flawed every year. But I will take no stand on these issues right now because all I want to do is run the race. Sure, I could go out and run the course on my own time and not have to pay the entry fee and blah blah blah, but the race is the experience. All these people gather together to do something incredible, and even though we're competitive we still go through the same adventures more or less alongside each other. This ethic is best displayed the morning after the race ends, when every person gathers in the gym and honors each individual runner and their crews. Hardrock brings together a lot of like-minded people to share in an incredible adventure, and that's why I want to run the race, not just the course. (Although the course is the main draw).

So when the semester ends in May I'll be headed to Telluride to start training at altitude in the San Juans. My summer may not have so many races as last year, but the two that I do have planned are the best in the sport, as far as I can tell. Hardrock is too much for me to really comprehend right now. I'm excited and a little intimidated, but mainly driven to run the best possible race when the day arrives. And that day is July 8. Everything is building up to that day.