Silverton Alpine Marathon & 50K

In every time travel movie, there is an enterprising individual who attempts to figure out what stocks to invest in or sports teams to bet on. Perhaps the most important function of a review site such as this is to offer this feature of science fiction to someone trying to decide: should I spend my time and money on this event? So I am writing as if this post were available to my former self, who was looking at this race weekend in Silverton, Colorado, put on by Aravaipa Running. I am combining a summary of the Saturday and Sunday races. To follow military memo format, bottom line up front: these are great races, destination races.

What former Frank was trying to figure out is whether this was even feasible, and, if so, at what distance. Here is the background. I have run more than 150 half marathons and another 30 races of other lengths, in about seven years (I started nine years ago as of this writing, had a break for a health concern and then the same time off as everyone due to the pandemic). My PR is 2:17 in the half. I am either the slowest runner or the fastest walker. I am always underprepared though. I’m serious but slow.

The main issue is altitude. Silverton is 9318 feet, proudly — there are signs for stores, such as the local dispensary, which list the elevation. I am a “lowlander.” I have spent time in the 5000-6000 feet, probably more than typical for a resident of sea level, due to an association with an institution in the high desert. I also have run at altitude, including in Colorado. I’ve done maybe five runs total, at altitudes from 3000 feet to 7000 feet.

So here is the most important thing I could say: yes, this is do-able. I plan to come again. I’ll try the longer distances. The location is beautiful, so much that words cannot do justice, not my writing anyway, and even photos do not communicate the majesty of the mountains and the clean air. But the thing is, you cannot treat this in the same manner you would a simple race in the neighborhood. Here is the best data point: I finished the 11k in the time it takes me to finish a half marathon on a normal day. It was, as detailed below, the toughest short race I have ever done. Given that my goal was to avoid death, I can claim success.

The problem with anything I say, however, is that you don’t know until you know, how your body will adjust to the altitude. I didn’t. Thus I took precautions: ibuprofen, Tums, oxygen canisters shipped to the AirBnB. Someone I work with shared a story of how she went skiing, didn’t appreciate the elevation issue (she was young), and passed out, falling into the lap of a stranger. I also didn’t have time to acclimatize. Either I am lucky or I have learned something: I felt fine. Now it is true I abstained from alcohol to prep, and my night between races I slept a good ten hours. But I did not feel ill. (My watch advises my VO2 max is above average, which I take not as indicating my healthiness but instead the very sorry state most 55 year old males must be in.)

On Saturday, I did the 8 miler. It was easy. The vertical gain was minor. My watch reported 400 feet or so, and I doubt it was that much. That comes to a total of less than 10,000 feet. The scenery was great. The running was primarily on a trail, I’m guessing an abandoned mining route, with a bit on the shoulder of a moderately busy road. We also passed through an RV park. For much of the time, we were alongside a creek, and it was about as idyllic as you would want. There was one point where you had to get your feet wet or make a 100 foot detour and climb a bit, to get over that waterway. My official time is off by an hour. I helped a woman who fell. We waited to the ambulance. It turned out she had broken her humerus. That is a risk with trails. This was not the worst. She was startled by an off terrain vehicle. They are prevalent in this region.

On Sunday, I downgraded from the 12 miler to the 11 kilometer. The vertical gain was about 1500 feet. That means we went to not quite 11,000 feet. This was not easy. It was 3/4 mile before any climb. So that meant it was about 1500 feet upward in about 2-1/4 miles. That is steep. It was unrelenting. I had to pause a half dozen times at the very end before the turnaround. It was like you read about mountain climbers, resting every few steps. I was breathing heavily the whole way, a raspy sound, even grunting. I have run big hills, including 3000 foot plus gains, but those were all starting off at zero. I cannot recall being so happy to reach the turnaround. Another participant about my pace was from Albuquerque, comparable to Denver, but she had never entered any race more than 5k, and she was not doing well; last I saw her, she was sitting on a rock and said she was nauseated. She actually said she was nauseous, which means to cause nausea, but it would have been inappropriate, downright rude, to have corrected her at that moment (and probably in general, since the dictionary states the incorrect usage has become standard). The downhill was much faster of course. But I was reluctant to go barreling along as I have done before. That was because of how technical the terrain was; I’d rate it the second most treacherous of races I have run. The other reason is while I did not suffer altitude sickness, I cannot report I was functioning as I would at home, so even on the descent I didn’t want to exert myself. I strolled.

My conclusion is Saturday was misleading. It was too easy. Sunday was what it is really like out there in these environs. I am glad I didn’t stick with the half marathon. I will come back to do it. I would need to train much more.

A few final notes. I flew into Durango. That is only 45 miles away, but 90 minutes, due to the curvy roads up and down. I drove at night. Some people might not be thrilled to do that because it is a thrill. It’s pitch black (no light pollution), in some instances near enough a cliff edge you can tell if you went over it would be very bad, and there are lots of deer. Silverton is a tiny town that is huge for outdoor activities. Many motorcyclists, hikers, and adventuresome folks passing through. It is worth a weekend of exploring. It is compact enough that in a weekend you could spend an hour in every single business and not fill the day.