Where the Air is Thin

I’ve completed the Bataan Memorial Death March three times, twice in the Civilian Light category and once in the Civilian Heavy category (with 35 pounds in my pack).  Not running, mind you, because this girl don’t run.  But rucking.  (What the Ruck)


I’ve been mostly out of the game for the last couple of years. 

Sure … I’d go on a ruck with my friends occasionally.  And even do just enough to earn a patch or two.

But when one of my friends mentioned a trail run in Colorado (that he planned to ruck), my interest was peaked (pun TOTALLY intended).  

By all accounts, the Leadville Trail Marathon is meant for only the elitist of runners.  There are qualifying events and everything!  And there is a “Heavy Half” (marathon) component which my friend was eyeballing. 

I tried to get out more, rucking with a mere 10 pounds in my pack.  Toying with the idea.

So what could possibly make my body practically go into convulsions?  I committed to doing the Leadville Heavy Half yesterday.

You might be wondering why I, a 3x Bataan (full marathon) finisher, would be so shook.  I mean … it’s only a half-marathon, right?  In a word …

Elevation.

You see, the Heavy Half, which doesn’t have a weight requirement (as in … the amount you carry in your pack), begins at roughly 10,000 feet and tops out at 13,000 feet. 

And it’s a little more than a half marathon, spanning 15.5 miles (rather than 13.1).  Do they even make a 15.5 mile sticker for your car?

I realize the thought of being at that elevation sends a shockwave through the merest of mortals who don’t have a chronic medical condition.  But as a lifelong asthmatic, well … that's a whole ‘nother ballgame.

Yes, that's me!

When I was born, it wasn’t possible for my mom to put me to bed in my crib.  Because every time she did so, I’d stop breathing and turn blue.  In fact, she spent the first six months of my life sleeping upright in a rocking chair as she held me upright so that I wouldn’t go and die.

The woman should be nominated for sainthood.

A friend of my grandmother’s suggested she take me to a specialist.  Something called a pediatrician.  I was diagnosed with asthma.  Often triggered by various food items and certainly seasonal allergens, resulting in multiple cases of asthmatic bronchitis.
  

How about those matching outfits?

Thus began my life of being a sickly child, one my parents fretted over (my sister often being held responsible for not getting me wet when we went out to play), and one who visited the doctor’s office weekly for shots until the age of 18.

Fast forward several years.  I outgrew my food allergies, thank goodness, because I do love oranges and chocolate and eggs (not all together, mind you!)  And I suffered only the occasional asthma attack.  Usually only two-three per year when the seasons changed (it’s Texas, we only have three seasons:  Spring, Summer, and Fall) or when I get overheated.  Something that could be managed with an over-the-counter inhaler.  Thank You, Primatene Mist.

When I began CrossFitting (yeah … that’s a verb), I regularly had cardio days that left me hacking until bedtime.  The burning in my bronchial tubes, a rather unpleasant feeling.  A discussion with one of my coaches (also an asthma sufferer) and then my doctor, resulted in me going on a maintenance inhaler.  Two puffs, twice daily.  Even my coach only takes one puff per day, if that tells you anything about the state of my lung capacity.

The last time I completed Bataan, the temps were unusually high.  And though I was well-trained for the event, I suffered mightily during a stretch in which the elevation went from 1,300 feet to 1,650 feet.  Stopping every 100 yards or so, leaning over to catch my breath, trying to get my heartrate to decrease to something close to normal.  

At the peak (and roughly halfway point of the race), one of my teammates saw my distress and handed me her own emergency inhaler, thereby saving the day and allowing me to finish.  In fact, even beating my previous course record by a few minutes. 

I know what you’re thinking.  Why in the actual hell would I even consider doing the Leadville Heavy Half?

Because I have certain fitness goals for 2020 (and training for Leadville will be a part of that).

Because friends (who will be there right alongside of me). 

Because Colorado (and all of its beauty).

Because I. Love. A. Challenge.

And so begins my training for the Leadville Heavy Half.  Lots of time on my feet.  Lots of extra cardio.  From now until June.  With an emergency Inhaler in my pack.

Because the air is thin in Leadville.