To celebrate the registration opening of the Ouray 50 Mile Endurance Run, I thought I would reflect and share my experience participating in the event. I ran this race in 2023, the first year the event was separate from the Ouray 100 and held in September, which is probably the only reason I signed up. I had been crewing and pacing a friend during the Ouray 100 that year and was so inspired by all of the runners. I wanted to be a part of the event too and signed up for the 50-mile version on a whim.
One thing that sticks out when I re-read my race report from two years ago, is how the community here comes together to support each other. It truly is a community event and something special to be a part of. It’s a no-frills, laid-back yet well-supported event with more climbing and descending than a typical 100-miler. The race starts at noon, and there’s a 24-hour cutoff. Plenty of time, right? Well, maybe. Below is my race report of the Ouray 50 in 2023 with some more recent reflections at the end.
This race (and of course the 100-mile version as well) has always scared the crap out of me. It’s hard to understand how difficult this race is until you experience the trails for yourself. I used to balk when anyone asked me if I thought I would try it someday. But after spectating, crewing, and pacing this event over multiple years, you really begin to realize that it is something special.
The Ouray 50 is not a race that you start knowing that you can finish it. You can only start this race knowing that it might be possible if all the variables are in your favor, both what is in and out of your control.
The things that were in my control were training (which wasn't ideal, I admit), preparation for various conditions (rain, snow, heat, nutrition, feet issues, etc.), and the recruitment of a crew and pacers to help me move efficiently on trails and through aid stations. I’d done each section of the course in training and had a good idea of how long each section might take. When I compared my estimates to the course cutoff times, I knew I’d be up against them.
The things that were out of my control were the weather, trail conditions, and any unfortunate incidents that might result in injury or some other reason to drop. Luckily, these non-controllables swung heavily in my favor! It rained and stormed the entire week preceding the event, and it rained and stormed the day after it too. But for two glorious days on September 16 and 17 of 2023, we had perfect weather! Partly cloudy, cool during the day and not too cold at night. The rains from the previous week made the trails damp and compact (they can get really slippery during dry spells). And, spoiler alert, I never fell or had any other unfortunate incidents!
So, perfect everything, time to start!
I thought my race was over once I hit the first climb up Weehawken Trail. I literally texted my husband Ryan, “This is NOT going well!” My legs were burning, I felt slow, and almost everyone in the race passed me on that climb. When I made it back down to the aid station, I was fighting tears. My house was a mere three miles down the road, and I briefly contemplated running straight there. I texted Ryan again, “I think I’m already f-ed!” He responded, “It’s supposed to feel that way! Keep going!” I had to laugh at that response because obviously I’m not supposed to feel like my race is over 10 miles into a 50-mile race! But it was enough to make me realize I at least had to make it to Crystal Lake. If I missed the cutoff there, I could be done and sleep in my own bed that night.
At the Alpine Mine Overlook (top of Weehawken Trail)
I started the climb up Hayden Trail to Crystal Lake knowing it would be the crux of the whole thing. I’d done this section in training, and I wasn’t fast enough to make cutoff. I thought I’d feel good and rested on race day and could certainly do it faster. I ran into a couple of friends on my way over. I told them I was done. There was no way I’d make the cutoff, and I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO! So yeah, this was the crux.
I knew from my training that it would take me around 30 minutes to run the descent into Crystal Lake, and only if I ran kind of fast. When I finally made it to the descent, I looked at my watch. I had 30 minutes to get there before cutoff. Screw it! I want this! Let’s go!!! I ran down the descent in record time. I passed several people on their way back up from the lake. I got so much encouragement to just keep going! I saw a friend who hugged me and told me I got this! I sprinted (literally) into Crystal Lake just three minutes ahead of cutoff.
Photographer Eszter Horanyi captured my literal decision point. Will I quit or run for it?
Some races are extremely strict about cutoffs. You miss it, you’re out. I wasn’t sure what the cutoff policy was at this race, and I’m glad that I didn’t, but it seemed that as long as I was relatively close to the cutoffs and in good shape, I could continue the race. So, essentially the only person who was going to cut me from the race at this point was myself. I couldn’t do it. Something flipped in my brain on the descent, and I wanted to keep going. If I could just make it back to Fellin Park, I’d be able to pick up my first pacer, Kim, and everything would be okay!
The journey back to Fellin went great! There was a spectacular sunset that brought me to tears on the climb. The long descent was super fun as I blasted music in one ear and sang along out loud to scare the bears away!
Sunset as I headed back over Hayden
I made it back to Fellin Park just under cutoff pace. This would be last time I would reach an aid station under cutoff despite moving quite well for several more hours. Kim kept me entertained with her stories about teaching and philosophies on life as we summited Twin Peaks in the dead of night. On our way down to Silvershield Aid Station (only about 5 minutes out) we ran into another runner who told us the aid station closed 10 minutes ago. What?! First of all, DOUBT IT, but the official cutoff was about 10 minutes ago at that point, so I braced myself to be forcibly cut from the race. I would be lying if I said a small part of me wasn’t like “sweeeeet” at that point. My bed was only few miles away. But the aid station was open, I wasn’t cut off, and we made it back to Fellin Park only a few minutes after the next cutoff. I was ready to pick up my next pacer!
My next pacer, Jesse, joined me for the next (and last) two big sections of the race (Chief Ouray Mine and Bridge of Heaven). We started up Chief Ouray still feeling pretty strong and moving well. Jesse sang songs and kept me entertained with his memories about where he was in the Game of Thrones books. We ran into “aid station is closed guy,” and this time he asked us if we were sweeping the course! No, we assured him that I was a participating runner, and he balked. He thought he was in last place! Nope, sorry dude. Gotcha covered though, move along!
The descent down Chief Ouray was when my legs started to revolt. I just couldn’t move as quickly anymore. We made it into Fellin well after the official cutoff. I thought they definitely wouldn’t let me continue this time, but then they said I wasn't cut off. Oi vey, fine, well I’m not cutting myself off, so let’s go! Jesse was sure that I still had a chance to finish under the official 24-hour cutoff. We had four hours and 40 minutes to get to Bridge of Heaven and back, and my all-time PR on that section was around four hours, so there was a chance!
But it took over 6 hours. Six long hours grinding up to the highest elevation point on the course and then plodding on down, unable to run at that point. There was certainly a point on the climb when we realized there was no chance in hell I would make the 24-hour cutoff. Turning around crossed my mind. Turning around would have saved me several more hours of difficult climbing and descending. But really, I still wasn’t going to cut myself. I didn’t come this far to only come this far! I told Jesse that I wanted to finish the course no matter how long it takes. Thankfully, he was game and on we went!
Bridge of Heaven (photo from a different date as my phone had died at this point)
Sitting at the top of Bridge of Heaven was like the exact opposite of how I felt during the “crux” climbing over Hayden Trail for the first time. In fact, I could see Hayden Trail and Crystal Lake from up there. I could even see the Alpine Mine Overlook which was the summit of the very first climb up Weehawken Trail. I moved my eyes over the mountains and realized that I had moved my body from there to here in one long push. I couldn’t believe what I had just accomplished! And even though I hadn’t reached the finish line yet, I knew I would make it because the only way to get back home was to move my body down five and a half steep miles to the finish.
The descent was long, and I never noticed how many rocks were on the trail! I was losing focus and beginning to slip here and there. I started hallucinating people that weren’t there. Jesse kept it upbeat as we plodded along. About a half mile from the road, we decided to sit for a minute because I kept slipping on rocks and needed to regain some focus. All of a sudden, we heard some cheers from below. Our friend Melissa was on the trail! She brought her always-upbeat attitude and we popped up with excitement! She made that last half mile a breeze, and I’ll always be grateful!
I jogged through the finish line with a time of 25:43:05. Part of me wondered if anyone would be there or if the infamous orange cones had been packed away. But the cones were there, and so were several of my friends, my husband and son, the dogs, race directors and volunteers. I’m so grateful to everyone involved in this event. It was a magical experience. I regret nothing. I kept moving and no one cut me off. I may not have achieved the perfect timing, but I achieved the course. I achieved choosing not to quit. I am so grateful.
There are multiple instances in my running career when I've finished a race and immediately knew that I could've done better. I knew I could've pushed a certain section harder or spent less time in an aid station. This is not one of those instances. I truly believe that this is the best performance I was capable of on that day. Some people might say that I didn't really finish the race, since I wasn't fast enough to finish under the official 24-hour cutoff. Others have told me that time is just an arbitrary construct, and of course I finished the race! Whatever stance you take, that's up to you. What I value most about this experience was learning that I was capable of not giving up when things got hard and weren't favoring an ideal outcome. I also gained a lot of confidence knowing that I could move my body continuously for almost 26 hours. I finished my first 100-mile race six months later as a result of that confidence.
Participating in a race like this isn't always about the result. It's about experiencing something that you can't experience in normal life. It's about learning about who you are and what you're capable of on a given day. It's about gathering intel about your body and mind so that you can apply those lessons-learned toward advancing your future goals. So, do I think I finished the Ouray 50 in 2023?
Yep. I crushed it.
If you've read this far and find yourself interested in experiencing either the Ouray 50 or Ouray 100, please note that coaches Jen and Ryan offer in-person support at these two events, and the cost is included in your coaching fee!
Please reach out to either Jen or Ryan to inquire about coaching.