"The Toughest 5K on the Planet"
"The World's Gnarliest Three Miler"
"The Best Mountain Runners in the World Can't Crack 40 Minutes"
SMOKE, SWEAT and SUCCESS. Before we even moved to Seward, we'd visited for the famed 4th of July shenanigans and Mount Marathon Race, dubbed "The Toughest 5K on the Planet" by Outside Magazine and touted as the oldest mountain race in the country. Sporty crazy people running 3000 feet up and down a super steep mountain in record time, often muddy, bloody and exhausted, while crowds of thousands go wild. Simple rules drive a complex race: Start at the line down on the paved road in town on 4th Avenue (our street!), get up the mountain on foot any route you want, round the rock at the false summit known as "race point," and get back down to the finish farther down the paved road. You want to free climb the cliffs? Fine. Drop from roots and slide down waterfall gullies? You got it. Where a costume like a tutu or Gumby suit? Why not. Just train like hell, feel like hell, and get the hell down in one piece.
And this year, ladies and gentlemen, J Leslie got off the wait list for the lottery and entered hell, I mean, the race!
Here are a few pix I snapped from the top of the mountain after race day, so you can try to get some sense of the elevation gain and steepness of the trail.
And the down trail, or controlled-falling-down-a-scree-field portion of things. I spy a cruise ship! |
BURN, BABY, BURN. Now the race conditions are always unpredictable: a slip and slide mud fest on rainy years, dehydratingly hot and dry on others. And this year was hot. But it also had an added twist: The Swan Lake wildfire. Started by a lightning strike at the beginning of the summer, this fire about 50 miles to our north had kicked up significantly in the weeks leading up to the race, smoke filling our bay and obscuring the mountains. (PurpleAir.com has areas close to us ranked as the worst air quality in the world, right now... wowser). Race officials offered all adults a free opt out, with a secure spot to run again next year, and the youth race (ages 7-17) was canceled within an hour of start time when the air quality index put us slightly too high.
Interestingly, when the Junior Race was canceled, tons of Seward kids said, "we're doing it anyway!" and promptly charged the mountain at the original 9AM start time. |
So what happened? J went for it, of course! Like the wild and crazy youngsters, he'd been training in the smoke, so why not do the thing in the smoke?
Indigo came up with a few interview questions, to get you some of the inside scoop:
I: How was the smoke?
J: It wasn't that bad - it was smokey but it was more that it was hot and that it was smokey at the same time.
I: Did anyone slap you on the butt?
J: No.
I: Were you only thinking about the race during the race, or were you thinking about paint colors or something?
J: No, I actually talked, well not talked, but cheered other people on and made jokes and stuff during the race a lot. The nature of the trail is that you have to be focused on the trail, but it's just how I am during these sorts of things.
I: Were there any points where you wished you hadn't signed up for the race?
J: No, but, and I knew it was going to be like this, but running the road was the worst... it was just awful... because it was super hot out on the road and you just want to get to the trail and start going up hill. And the road is also sneakily up hill. And the road at the end was the hardest part too, because my legs were cramping up and I didn't want to fall over in front of thousands of people.
Who says Alaskans don't have style? Indigo waits in the unusually hot summer sun for her dad to pop out of the chute (and not fall over).
Kim (sneaking in a final question): What part of the whole experience are you the most proud of?
J: Just that I ran it and finished it. I mean you can train and prepare and all that, but it's the kind of race that lots of things can go wrong and you can get hurt... so just to finish.
J with Mt. Marathon in the background, just proud to finish! |