Johnson’s Mad Dash
Every sport requires a certain level of fitness, but soccer players are generally acknowledged to be among the fittest athletes, running six miles per game, most of it in short, intense sprints.
But this is crazy.
Marathon studies show that the human body starts to break down after 20 miles, the body literally feeding on its own muscle for fuel. What the hey? Let’s double it then!
The Silver Rush 50 mile ultra-marathon in Leadville, Colorado is cell-busting, oxygen-deprived romp above 10,000 feet, where the air is so thin lungs turn into frothing, flapping pieces of useless organ. Cakes routinely commit suicide up here.
Last June, Matt Johnson’s old high school soccer coach asked him to run the Silver Rush 50. Before we get to his answer, let’s keep one thing in mind:
Matt had never run longer than 10 miles in his life.
This fact did not deter the Cougars’ sophomore midfielder. He accepted his coach’s request without a second thought.
But certainly they’d train properly in the month remaining before the race.
“The longest we ran was 15 miles.”
Uh-huh. Well, at least they had a strategy.
“We planned to run the downhills and flats and walk or slow jog the inclines… “
Nice. Sensible.
“… but then when we got in the race, we ran the whole time.”
Johnson came to UMM from Monument, Colorado, from whence he was recruited by men’s soccer head coach Christian DeVries, who, over the years, has established a pipeline of fine Rocky Mountain talent for both the men’s and women’s teams.
A sports management major, Johnson doesn’t appear to have the hardened determination and steely gaze one imagines you must have for an ultra-marathon. But underneath the surfer-blonde hair and easy-going expression is one of the Cougars’ toughest players.
“[Matt’s] the one guy I never have to worry about taking off the field,” says DeVries. “He can go forever. He never wants to stop practicing.”
Translating Johnson’s super-endurance and determination to the soccer field means a definite advantage on defense.
“We ask Matt to be aware [of the other team’s] top midfielder or forward,” says DeVries. “He marks that player. And he is absolutely so tenacious. You can’t believe it. He’s low to the ground and doesn’t get knocked over easily.”
The Silver Rush 50 is an out and back: 25 miles uphill cresting at 12,500 feet before turning around for another challenge: resisting your momentum and keeping your balance on sharp declines.
The race began at six in the morning under overcast skies that erupted intermittently into gully-washing storms, flooding the trail beneath Johnson’s feet.
The trip up, he says, was easy enough. Like many of the runners that day, his expectations were low, just to finish and said he’d done it.
At mile 23, above the treeline now, exposed to the elements, the trail enters a large bowl at the top of a mountain and heads downhill for another two miles where the runners turn around. As Johnson passed through this point, lightning began to crackle overhead and thunder shook the ground.
And then, for a split second, everything around Johnson fired up, literally. A lightning bolt struck the earth 100 feet ahead of him on the trail.
He picked up the pace.
“I think that’s why I finished so fast. I just had to get down off the mountain. I skipped two aid stations on the way because I just wanted to be finished.”
Fear is a motivator. But so is pain. On the way down, Johnson persisted through cramps and leg pain from running on uneven trail littered with rocks, wet leaves, and slippery moss.
A storm followed the lightning, rain poured down, then hail. Johnson’s t-shirt and shorts drooped heavily, every inch soaked.
He crossed the line late that afternoon, finishing in 10 hours and 10 minutes.
“The next day I slept until noon. I was awake until eight that night and then slept the whole night again.”
