Leadville Burro Race with Lea Mulligan

Leadville, Colorado: The town with a small amount of oxygen but a big dose of personality! I’ve been living in a tiny house in Leadville for the last two weeks trying to get adapted to altitude and preparing for Leadville 100. This race has been on my mind for years, but I’d never really viewed it as a feasible possibility until this year.  I’ve got screenshots of the Leadville sign-up page open on my laptop dating back to my senior year of high school when I ran my first 50K and read Born to Run. It’s a mythical event that I’m excited, nervous, and frankly intimidated to attempt.

This past week was one of the biggest training weeks of my life consisting of four long runs all above 10,000 ft. By Friday, the weekend miles were looming, and I was searching for ways to make them as much fun as possible. That’s when I encountered the Leadville Boom Days Facebook page. I was enthralled by the pictures of people racing burros and instantly started to google whether or not I could potentially find a burro to race. After a quick message on Facebook Messenger, I learned that there was one burro remaining to rent.

Before I knew it, my husband and I were on a call with the owner of a miniature burro named Dylan, planning to meet up on Saturday for a practice run before the big event on Sunday. I had a lot of questions about how to race a burro, but the main consensus was that it’s really up to the burro. I could have a great day adventuring with my burro, or I could be spending 7 hours of quality time with Dylan on a hillside at 12,000 ft.

I decided to commit to the adventure with Dylan and started to arrange my long run on Saturday around the shakeout run with my burro. In the morning, my husband dropped me off at Cooper Mountain for a beautiful 20 miles on the Colorado Trail from Cooper to Camp Hale (an awesome point to point training run if you’re ever wanting to explore that area). I had to push the effort a bit to make sure I got back in time to snag a quick sandwich and head over to the fairgrounds to meet Dylan.

As soon as we pulled up to the fairgrounds, it started raining in normal Leadville afternoon fashion. The burros were soaked, but I could still pick out my cute little guy hanging out in the paddock with the other burros. Without too much direction, I grabbed the burro lead rope and went to fetch Dylan. Burros are herd animals, so I had to practice running Dylan in a group with the other burros in his herd. In order to motivate a burro, there are a variety of phrases you can use such as “hup hup” or “yip yip.’’ Ideally, you’re located strategically to the back left side of the burro to drive it forwards. The key word here is “ideally.” As soon as we started our 2 mile practice run, the burros started scattering, and my burro ended up meandering his way along by himself.

Similar to my own running style, Dylan seemed to like downhills a lot more than uphills and entered into a slight slog on the return journey to the paddock. We managed a solid 13 minute mile, which would be a very doable pace for finishing the burro race well within 7-hour cutoffs. I gave him some treats and headed off that afternoon feeling like there was a 50/50 chance of success in the burro race.

Fast forward to race morning, and I was so thankful that I had the burro race as motivation to leap out of bed towards running. My legs were feeling the fatigue of the last week, and I was thrilled to have a fun focus for the day. I thought I’d have to prepare Dylan for the race, but his owner had him all decked out in his nice saddlebags, gold mining pan, and official race bib. We had about an hour of quality time together before the race to have some life talks about the day ahead of us.

The startline of the burro race was definitely the most nerve-wracking part of the day. All the burros lined up on Leadville’s downtown street and were feeding off of the energy of the crowd by shifting around and occasionally neighing. It had a very similar feeling to the startline of an ultra except that humans stay organized, and burros like to change position several times before the race starts. A gunshot signified the start of our 15-mile journey, and Dylan started trotting off the startline following one of his favorite friends in the herd. Dylan and I were followed by “oohs and ahhs” as we made it through the crowd. He was maybe the cutest little burro of the whole race, and people made sure to note his presence throughout the whole experience.

All my fears of chasing cutoffs seemed to be unfounded as Dylan jetted through the first mile at a 10-minute mile pace. He and his fellow burro companion were crushing it! Another half mile flew by in this fashion, and I was getting excited about a competitive day in the burro race. All of a sudden, we reached the first steep uphill and Dylan and his friend, Charleston, slowed to a slow trudge…. not a walk, a trudge. I tried to motivate Dylan to pass his friend, but he stayed steadfastly at his side. Then, Charleston stopped, Dylan stopped, and we were just hanging out on the side of the road. As Charleston’s racer tried to motivate him to move, I took a moment to give Dylan a hug and try to sweet talk him into moving. Surprise, surprise, this strategy didn’t take me very far.

Eventually, we learned that I could motivate Charleston from behind, and Dylan would follow Charleston without question. At that point, we started uphill at more of an aggressive power-hike, and things were back on track. When we reached the first downhill, Dylan went into bombing mode, and I scrambled to switch gears into sprinting behind my burro. Somehow, I’d gotten with a burro that aligned with my favorite part of trail running: bombing down technical terrain. We grooved for about a half mile until we came to another screeching halt. Charleston had become intimidated by the steep uphill ahead of us and started running up the slope of the hillside instead of staying on the trail. Dylan, the well behaved burro that he was, watched in confusion but unfortunately refused to move until Charleston returned to the trail.

The rest of the day continued in a similar rhythm. If Charleston moved, Dylan moved at a similar speed. If Dylan was lagging, he was small enough that I could push him from behind and slowly motivate him to move up the lengthy hills. Every mile became a blur of motivational “yip yips” and a distinct ebb and flow of pace and energy levels of the burros. Around mile 10, Dylan decided that he was hungry, and we entered into a new battle of movement vs. eating plants. We had an interesting standoff where I tried to eat a gel, and he stared imploringly into my eyes asking for a slurp of gel for himself. In hindsight, maybe he would’ve had a bit more motivation to reach the finish line with 90g of carbs an hour.

Finally, we reached the road segment with 3 miles to go, and Dylan kicked into gear! We trotted down towards the finish line, and I showered Dylan with praise. It was a dysfunctional day, but he was the best companion the entire time. Finally, we reached town and got a very official police escort into the finish line. Dylan brought his finest self to the finish line and charged across at a very efficient trot. I truly could not have asked for a cuter, more personable burro to join me in spending 4 hours exploring the alpine behind Leadville.

If anyone is ever interested in delving fully into the history of Leadville and trying burro racing, I’d highly recommend it. I made a new best friend, got a unique lesson in patience, and felt deeply connected to the unique community that thrives in Leadville. One Burro Race belt buckle down, one Leadville 100 race buckle to go! Regardless of how the 100 unfolds, I’m so grateful for the time I’ve had exploring the beauty around this area, experiencing the amazing history of the town, and racing with a burro!