I always had plans to write a story or two on the 50^th anniversary of the Vail Hill Climb, but I didn’t anticipate this.

I wasn’t expecting to learn how this event is so much more than a race.

In talking to past winners and hearing stories from the local running community’s old guard, a thread emerged. When I started digging through old stories and past results, every anecdote wove into a larger tapestry: this event captures the essence of Vail.

From its origin story right up to the most recent winner.

Those Vail Resort employees who one day decided to run to work at the top of Lionshead mirrored the adventurous, pioneering spirit shared by Vail’s founding fathers. Their entrepreneurial eagerness to tame the mountain they loved by challenging themselves on its slope resonates with us all. The joyful cadres of hill climbers who’ve run the course over the years, motivated by memories made with friends as much as personal bests, have returned again and again because 1) it’s a good time and 2) donuts and 3) it feels good to get the heart rate up while savoring unbeatable views. Even everyday joggers’ brushes with greatness is a ski town thing. Then again, those who were fortunate to mingle with stars like Frank Shorter say he felt like just another member of the community.

If that shocks you, it shouldn’t. That single word — community — is the simplest explanation and it’s also my shortest answer to the question of why this series has been so rewarding. It’s given me another chance — as someone who lives in Leadville and has only been writing about Eagle County sports for five years — to discover why people think this place is so special. It’s the stories.

Everyone’s.

My Vail Hill Climb story actually opened in 2015. I’d just graduated and moved to Alamosa with my new bride. Similar to Greg Birk, I probably hitched my running identity a bit too much to road marathon times, and so when I took a job as an elementary music teacher to make ends meet while pursuing a master’s in exercise science —the first move I made was to get in touch with a running coach. I ended up working as an Alamosa High School assistant coach for three years alongside Peter De La Cerda.

I asked Peter this week what his 2003 Vail Hill Climb victory meant to him. For those who don’t know, De La Cerda placed second in the 2000 Olympic Trials and should have represented the country in Sydney if not for a silly technicality. While he entered the hill climb three years later on a dare, it ironically ended up becoming his ticket to wear the red, white and blue at an international competition — albeit the mountain running world championships.

“You always gain the experience, the memories and adventures from races you might not have thought about competing in,” De La Cerda told me. “God puts you in the places sometimes for reasons unknown at the time, but later when you reflect you realize, ‘I am glad I trusted in Him to put me at the right time and right place.’”

I couldn’t agree more. A series of life twists sent my wife and I from Alamosa to Maine and then back to Leadville. I worked as a ski coach, band director, remote elementary school teacher and a high school social studies teacher before landing my current gig at the Vail Daily. In 2023 — 20 years after Peter won — I found myself striding into Mid-Vail before anyone else, too. Who would have thought a kid from the central Minnesota cornfields who wanted more than anything to play college basketball and become a trumpet professor would be reporting on a race in Vail that he ended up winning?

I remember coming into the finish and thinking, ‘crap, what am I going to write about now?’”

Ironically, one of my angles in 2024 ended up being about the person behind me, Josh Ernst — who, unbeknownst to both of us, happened to attend the small college right across the street from mine in my hometown! Last year, Ernst etched his name into hill climb lore with his own victory.

“It was great to finally win,” Ernst told me this week. “Running is really rewarding when there’s a race that everything goes right.”

Needless to say, I’ve never had problems finding a fresh lede. That’s because if there’s one thing I’ve realized about this place it’s this: everyone’s got a story and all of them are worth telling.

And so, a toast to the 50th Vail Hill Climb — raise a glass of Tailwind and a Northside Kitchen donut (or two). Here’s to going out hard and speeding up when it hurts, like Carpenter preaches. Here’s to running for someone special, like Sally Clair. Here’s to kissing your wife and kids after the race and joyfully going back to work like Lyndon Ellefson. Here’s to enjoying the journey and view from the top — in running and life — like Birk believes.

Finally, to all you gutsy racers who plan to show up — or, like Shorter, decide to run last minute because you read this in the Daily while eating waffles at breakfast (there’s still time!): Thank you for always giving me something to write about!