FINALLY GETTING TO THE SILVERTON ALPINE MARATHON

Kate Dzienis • Jul 19, 2023

Contributed by Hailey Hanney, AURA member (Engadine, NSW)

SILVERTON ALPINE MARATHON, SILVERTON (COLORADO, USA), 8 July 2023

When I was getting a baby cut out of me the week before Christmas the last thing on my mind was running a high-altitude marathon in Colorado. Originally, I was set to take on the Silverton Alpine Marathon in 2020 but like many runners Covid saw all events shut down for the unforeseeable future. When my husband was chosen in the Hardrock lottery and we started planning our USA trip, it gave me the chance to finally take on the challenge.

Any runner knows the toughest part of getting to any start line is getting to the start healthy and uninjured. But I also had to factor in a C-section that meant no running until 12 weeks after birth. As a personal trainer and running coach, I had planned to be active during my pregnancy. Severe morning sickness put an end to running as early as the first trimester.

So I kept myself as strong as possible right up until the birth and began light strength work and regular walks just four weeks after having our son. I was cleared to start running again in early March and got my coach Andy Dubois (Mile27) on board. In the four-month build up to the race, on top of looking after two young kids and studying architecture, I undertook 3-4 strength sessions per week and ran 3-4 times per week (most of those runs on the treadmill while the baby was napping, hopefully).

Remember that bit about healthy and uninjured? Just days before our trip to the USA a bout of Laryngitis and a cough/cold came home from daycare.

Layer on 30 hours travel with two kids and no sleep for the entire trip, let’s just say I was feeling pretty rotten when we finally arrived in Colorado. So I laid low for a week in the lead up to my race and hoped it was enough time to recover. Turns out I still wasn’t 100% by race day, but I was going to start anyway and give it everything I had on the day.

I got up early after a good night’s sleep (thank you little man) and walked up to the Silverton Memorial Park which was the Start/Finish area for the race. My husband and the kids showed up just before the start to surprise me and I also saw some friends from the last time we had visited Silverton in 2018 and 2019.

The race started on time, and I headed out with our friend Ryan Seher as we ran along the streets out of town and onto the jeep trails to the north-east. This section was quite flat. However Silverton is at 2,800m elevation and was the lowest point on the course so it would only get tougher from here. My game plan was to take it easy the whole day and just try to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Surprisingly, the first 13km had plenty of runnable sections, even though the elevation chart for the race made it look like it was mostly uphill till 30km. I mixed running and walking as we passed through Howardsville, Eureka and Animas Forks. There were many old building remnants along the way including rusted out mining equipment that speaks of the area’s history.

As we left Animas Forks the jeep road started to climb and I knew there wouldn’t be any more running until after we hit California Pass at about 27km and 3,950 metres (12,960 feet). The roads had been pretty soft underfoot up until this point, but now there were a lot more rocks and you really had to watch where you were putting your feet or you could easily roll an ankle. It was slow going and every time I looked up it seemed the trail towards the pass got longer and longer. I took a lot of photos here, surrounded by snow covered mountains and with some snowbanks over two metres tall.

This section seemed to go forever and as it got steeper I got slower and slower. I got passed by a few people who tried to make conversation but I was all out of breath, and could only speak if I stopped moving. It was a strange feeling to be totally out of breath while the muscles felt like the effort was easy, but that’s altitude for you!

The wind had been getting stronger as we climbed, and some of the gusts really pushed you around. I had to hold onto my hat as it almost flew off a few times, and I kept my buff around my neck so I could cover my mouth and try to keep the dirt out. There were actually a lot of ATVs and 4WDs out on the course, which brought up a lot of dust whenever they went past. It was getting pretty wild.

About 400m from California Pass a couple of men were overtaking me and pointed out the aid station ahead. We could finally see the top and I would soon be over the highest point on the course. It was a huge relief and really lifted my spirits. I had been telling myself that if I could get to this point then I could get to the finish. I knew the downhill would feel much easier and that I would be getting more and more oxygen as we continued descending to the finish line.

California Pass was spectacular, but I didn’t stay long as the wind gusts up there were super strong. Even the aid station had been packed away to prevent it blowing off the mountain. I grabbed a few photos and started to head down the steep trail ahead of me. I knew there would be another small amount of uphill to the nearby Hurricane Pass (3,880 metres/12,730 feet) but after that it would be mostly downhill. Descending proved so much slower than expected as it was super steep and rocky in most places, but I ran as much as I could as we passed through Gladstone at 32km (20.4 miles) and Niagara Gulch at 39km (24.6 miles).

My breathing started to feel easier as the road descended and got flatter. I was able to start running a little more and even catch some people who had overtaken me earlier. My legs felt surprisingly fresh but there were a lot more vehicles here and the dust made me cough quite a lot.

The watch ticked over to 43km and there was no sign of the finish line yet, “surely it couldn’t be too far?” I kept moving, running every downhill and walking a few small sections when I needed to catch my breath. A random timing mat sitting alone on the side of the road gave me hope that we were getting close.

The watch ticked over 44km and the road up ahead became tarmac. I begged the run gods for this to be the last corner. As I turned the corner I could see the Silverton Memorial Park down below and all I had now was a small downhill section to the finish line. The tarmac felt hard underfoot but I mustered every last bit of strength and started to increase my speed.

I had a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye as I hit the grass on the final 100m. I could see my family standing at the finish line, my daughter waving and cheering out loud. Finish lines have taken on a whole new meaning now I’m a mother, as the hurdles to overcome are greater, and the example you’re setting for your kids means so much more.

As I sat recovering in the gazebo, my daughter playing with my finisher’s medal, I felt incredibly lucky. Lucky to be in this beautiful place, and lucky to have the most supportive family and friends anyone could wish for.