The Leadville Trail 100, one of the oldest ultramarathons in the United States, requires no entry standards, billing itself as an everyman's event where people can--and do--attempt to race their first 100-miler.

"You will give the mountain respect," reads a promotion on the race website for this year, a statement that captures the ethos of ultra trail-running, a sport where competition and perseverance sit equal with stewardship for the environment.

But that didn't happen at last year's race, which might have been expected when 946 people toed the starting line to run on slim trails through steep climbs and the Rocky Mountain altitude.

By event's end, the consequences were clear. Trash lay strewn on trails; narrow roads created traffic jams of spectators and crew; aid stations fell low on supplies, ran out completely or closed altogether before some of the slower runners who missed the cut-off times could reach them.

Matt Nager

"There was fecal matter in the middle of the trail, with toilet paper next to it," says 36-year-old Amy O'Connell of Denver, who has run nine ultra races and did Leadville in 2013. "That's one of the biggest things I remember most out of that race, and just being horrified. People who run trails know that nothing gets left behind. That means you carry anything and everything.

"In the past, Leadville has taken really good care of their runners, and I think some of that was missing [last] year."

Some pointed the finger at Life Time Fitness, the company that acquired the race in 2011 from the town's two local founders, who started the event in 1983 to give Leadville an economic boost after the shutdown of a prosperous mine.

Leadville's no-entry-standards policy has always been unique among 100-mile races in the U.S., and many accused Leadville of trading its soul for higher profits. But the reality is more complicated. The sport is soaring in popularity throughout the country--a boon for sponsorship and attention--a trend that also brings with it a host of runners unfamiliar with trail running etiquette, who may be more interested in checking an item off the bucket list than being in the sport long-term.

"There's a lot of newer runners coming into the sport," says Nick Clark, who finished second in Leadville last year. "It's a race they aspire to. They're not getting the experience I got when getting into the sport. It's a very grassroots activity that was rooted in the tradition of respecting wild places and wilderness areas."

Racing through a feed zone during a road marathon and tossing a paper water cup or gel packet a few strides later is fine, but it doesn't work well environmentally on remote, hard-to-access trails.

"Some of the people not in the ultra endurance community need to be educated a little bit more," says Josh Colley, Leadville's race director, who has lived in Leadville for 15 years. Colley thinks that adding a meeting about how to respect the environment as a competitor would be helpful, along with the standard first-timers and pre-race briefings.

In 2014, Leadville race organizers are introducing professional parking and crowd-control crews. Bus and shuttle service to the Twin Lakes area--where vehicles aren't allowed--will increase. And more trash bins will be placed along the course, Colley says.

Runners at Leadville go over the Arkansas River and through the Rocky Mountain woods. Life Time Fitness

Still, the fallout from last year's race was damaging enough that the 100.5-mile Hardrock 100 Run in Silverton, Colo., made the decision to no longer accept Leadville as a qualifier for 2015 and beyond. Dale Garland, the race director, says that's partially because Leadville's course doesn't match Hardrock's profile well. But the race's board also said in a statement that Leadville "ignored other traits of importance . . . [such as] environmental responsibility, support of the hosting community, and having a positive impact on the health of our sport."

"We found that the spirit of Leadville was not compatible with the spirit of Hardrock," Garland says. "It has been strained a little bit. But we also wanted to be true to our values and our ideas of a runner's experience in a 100-mile run. We just didn't feel that Leadville, as it's evolved over the last few years, reflects that." Leadville has taken note, reducing its field to 700, below the 788 starters of 2012 but above the 612 who started in 2011, according to figures provided by the race. The permit from the U.S. Forest Service allows Leadville to have up to 1,000 runners.

"I'm hoping it [the number of runners] stays where it is. We're not going to ever have it happen again," Colley says. "We are doing everything we can to make the 2014 race the most outstanding event that we've had. . . . The race sold out in one day. People are interested." Hardrock and the Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run, an event begun in 1977 that starts in Squaw Valley, Calif., have the blessing of federal permits that limit their field to 140 and 369 people, respectively. That hasn't reduced interest in these races: 1,200 people applied to Hardrock, a 50 percent increase from 2013. Western States saw 2,760 applicants for 270 lottery slots, meaning fewer than 10 percent of qualifiers were accepted. But these races also benefit from appealing to more seasoned runners and require qualifiers.

Entry into most ultra races requires service of some kind, often earned by volunteering at another race. Western States race director Craig Thornley believes more emphasis should be placed on trail maintenance and preservation as part of that. "I really think we need to be mindful, for those beginning in ultras--when they first come into the sport, that's where we need to be teaching people our values," he says.

At Hardrock, environmental stewardship is addressed in a 50-page race packet, then discussed during a pre-race orientation by an official from the Bureau of Land Management, and again during a course meeting. To reduce paper cup use, officials last year required runners to use race-provided plastic cups they carried along the course, an idea borrowed from European competition. This year runners are responsible for supplying their own cups.

"Hundred-milers now are what marathons used to be," Garland says. "So our challenge is to have people who come to our events do it how we want it to be done."

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