2011 LEADVILLE TRAIL 100

August 13, 2011

Leadville, Colorado

Leadville 100 Course Map

Here we go again.  Another Leadville 100 in the books and time to encapsulate the experience for personal posterity.  I really don’t know what to say about this race that I haven’t said in four previous narratives describing my superhuman . . . well . . . slightly-above-average human exploits.  So I guess I’ll just start typing and hope the anti-drivel muse makes an appearance.

August 13, 2012 was the date of my 5^th consecutive participation in the Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race in Leadville, Colorado.  Known as the “Race Across the Sky” and made famous by two movies of the same name, the Leadville 100 is known and respected as the toughest one-day endurance mountain bike race in the United States.  It consists of 100 (actually 103.5) miles of biking at altitudes between 9,200 and 12,600 feet and includes cumulative elevation gains of between 12,000 and 14,000 feet depending on what kind of measuring device you use (personally, I like the one that says 14,000).

In the summer of 2006, my late best friend, Allan Goldberg, connivingly convinced me to sign up for Leadville in 2007 by telling me he had cancer.  I told him that I had back rash from time spent on the couch.  He said that he had to do 6 months of chemo and radiation and that I needed to get off my ass and train.  How logical.   However, it obviously hit home as I accepted the challenge, completed the race in 2007 and have been hooked ever since.  From 2007 through 2010, my finish times in the race have steadily improved from 11 hours and 11 minutes in 2007 to 10:35 in 2008 to 9:57 in 2009 to 9:43 in 2010.  It was a trend I hoped to continue in 2011.

As with the previous 4 years, I was racing this year as a member of Team First Descents.  First Descents is a Colorado-based cancer foundation that operates free weeklong outdoor adventure programs for young adult (ages 18-39) cancer survivors and fighters.  Allan was the Executive Director of First Descents when he challenged me to my first Leadville 100 and we called our first group of riders in 2007 “Team FD”.  Additionally, we used the race as a fundraiser and raised some $85,000 for First Descents.   Sadly, Allan passed away in June, 2008, but the Team FD concept has blossomed in his memory.  Over the past 3 years, Team FD has not only continued to grow for the Leadville 100, but the concept has grown into First Descents’ largest fundraising arm with over 400 athletes participating in athletic challenges around the U.S. and using the challenges to raise money for First Descents.  By the way, I am now Chairman of the First Descents’ Board of Directors and my wife, Lisa, is a full-time Director of the Team FD program for First Descents.  It has definitely become a family affair.  This year, there would be 24 Team FD riders racing in Leadville, including First Descents’ founder and CEO, Brad Ludden, as well as several past FD participant/survivors.

OK, so there’s the obligatory background in a nutshell.  Now let’s get to the race.  Actually, let’s go backwards just a little bit first.  In 2010 I trained like crazy shooting for a magic Sub-9-hour time and was pretty burned out by race-day.  While I had a decent race, I didn’t enjoy the experience as much and blamed it on the training burn-out.  In 2011, I vowed to take a different approach to training and let the chips fall as they may.  I did plenty of long fun rides in the spring, but probably 50% of the mileage that I rode in 2010.  When July hit, I was still pretty fresh and embarked on a solid 5 weeks of Colorado riding with several big rides like the Double Triple Bypass and Silver Rush 50 with some big hikes interspersed with the riding.  I got a lot of rest and I built myself up to a peak a week before Leadville and then tapered perfectly during that last week.  In short, I was chomping at the bit for the race and truly felt that 9-hours was a possibility.  At worst, I figured I would be able to realistically finish in the 9:15 to 9:30 range.

This year, for the first time, riders were going to be started in corrals based on one’s best finish time in the previous three years.  As there were apparently 1900 riders registered for the 2011 race, that was good news as I was assured of starting the day in front of about 80% of the field . . . including some 800 first-timers.  My plan was to go hard from the start and simply stick with the strong riders and hope that the fast pace would carry me through several of the early check-points in times at or just under a 9-hour pace without having to overly extend myself.  From there, I would hopefully will myself through the pain to achieve the goal.

Pre-race fuel

Lisa and I stayed at the Leadville home of Mike and Laurel McHargue for race-weekend so that I wouldn’t have to get up at 3am in Vail and make the drive up to Leadville.  Like it mattered.  I woke up on race-morning at1:30am and never fell back to sleep.  At 4am, I finally got out of bed, went to the bathroom and went downstairs to eat some pancakes and prepare my nutrition for the day.  At 4:45, some of the Vail crew arrived including a few fellow Team FD riders Gary Morris (“GMO”), Matt Hayne (“Mateo”) and Andrew Fleming (“X2C”).  At 5am, GMO and I rode over to the start and placed our bikes at the front of our corral and then went back to the McHargues for final pre-race prep (bathroom, sunscreen, dress-up, pep-talk, pre-hydration, butt-balm, etc.).  At 6:05 we walked back to the start line to begin the day-long adventure.

Off to the Races.

The temperature at the start was around 40 degrees but it really didn't feel that cold.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and sunny warm weather was predicted for the entire race.  Hydration was going to be critical with that forecast and it sounded like clothing decisions would be minimal.  I had already stowed my rain-jacket in the car and decided to take my chances without it.  Although I was going to start the race with arm-warmers, I knew from experience that I would likely have them off halfway up St. Kevins.

The gun went off at 6:30am sharp after a (fool)hardy count-down and we were off.  GMO and I stayed together down the pavement at a very fast-pace and I felt absolutely fantastic.  This was going to be the day and GLORY WOULD BE MINE . . . until it all quickly went to hell.  Just as we were about to make the right turn onto the dirt at Leadville Junction (mile 3), I felt my rear wheel slide and I looked down in disbelief to see a flat rear tire.  “NO, NO, NO . . . not here” I screamed to myself.  There couldn’t be a worse place on the entire course to get a flat-tire as the race has not yet had a chance to spread out.  “Flat fucking tire” I yelled to GMO and started to pull over.  He asked if I wanted his help and I told him to keep riding.  I knew what a flat at this moment meant and I absolutely didn’t want to screw up his race too.

I quickly pulled off my pump and a CO2 cartridge and tried to fill the tire with air.  If it was just a slow puncture leak, I was hoping to get right back on the bike and at least get up and over St. Kevins before the crowd and then deal with the tire.  Unfortunately the CO2 just blew air into the pump, but not into the tire.  I didn’t know if the canister was bad, the pump was bad or the air valve on the tire was bad (or the more likely reason - I'm just an idiot), so I decided to give it another try with a second CO2 canister.  Same thing happened.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  This was unbelievable.  I then tried to hand-pump the tire, but it appeared that air was escaping from the valve-stem hole in the rim.  At this point, I ripped the tire off the rim in frustration and emptied out all the gooey tubeless sealant (much of it splattering on me).  Upon closer inspection of the valve, I noticed that it was loose and that the rubber o-ring was missing.  The O-ring prevents air from escaping through the valve hole.  So at least I knew the culprit.  Nothing I could do about that now.  I just couldn’t believe that after 5 weeks of mountain biking on this bike with these tires without a single issue or loss of pressure, the tire chose this precise moment to start leaking air.  By now, the entire field had whooshed by and it really made no difference how long it took to fix the tire as I was going to be in the very back regardless.  Ken Chlouber and Scott Giffin (LT100 Founder and LT100 Race Director) happened to be nearby and offered to help, but there wasn’t much they could do.  I grabbed a tube out of my pack and put the tire back together.  I started furiously hand-pumping when Scott mentioned that he had a foot-pump.  Borrowing the foot-pump, I pumped the tire up and was back on my way.  When initially I pulled off to the side of the route to fix the tire, my Garmin showed that 6 minutes had elapsed since the start.  When I got back on the route, it said 21 minutes.  15 frickin’ minutes to change the tire!  I was thoroughly frustrated, angry, deflated, depressed and even a bit embarrassed.  The worst part of all is that there was a dude filming the whole thing.  I really hope that I handled myself with some degree of poise and didn’t unleash a torrent of audible expletives, but I really can’t remember.

Jumping back on my bike at the 21 minute mark, I started pedaling like mad to catch up to a field of riders that was now probably 2 miles off in the distance when the cold, hard realization hit me that my race was over before it began.  A year’s worth of training and anticipation snuffed out by a very poorly timed mechanical.  To someone who doesn’t know the race, you might wonder why the race was lost from a 15-minute rest-stop?  Couldn’t I still go for 9 hours or maybe 9 hours and 15 minutes?  The answer is an emphatic no for a rider like me who pretty much needed a perfect race to hit that mark.  It isn’t just the 15 minutes it took to fix the flat, but it is the immeasurable time I would continue to lose trying to get through the St. Kevin’s and Sugarloaf climbs and Powerline descent riding behind and among much slower riders.  I also knew that while strong, I wasn’t strong ENOUGH to put in a max-effort to make up the time.

To take my mind off the sobering reality, I started counting the riders as I passed them.  Since I was in absolute last place, the only thing that would keep me interested in the short-term was passing as many riders as I could.  One, two, five, fifteen, thirty, fifty, seventy-five, one-hundred.  I passed over 100 riders between the base of St. Kevins and Carter Aid station.  I passed anywhere I could while also trying not to be a total dick.  I shot through holes in the crowd or darted around riders walking their bikes.  I passed on the side-hill berm on the left-side of the trial and in the ditch on the right side of the trail.  I hit Carter Aid Station at about 1:10 and finally freed myself on the pavement.   Again, the cold realization of my predicament hit me as I was a full 20 minutes off the pace I needed to be on for sub-9 and 15 minutes behind my actual 2010 pace that resulted in a finish time of 9:43. 

I got into a tuck and tore down the pavement as fast as I could safely go, passing still more and more riders.  I kept pedaling hard, down around Turquoise lake and up the pavement on the other side. By the time I made the u-turn onto Hagerman Pass Road, I decided to stop counting riders that I had passed as it was now well over 200 and counting was becoming distracting. Unfortunately, that still put me behind 1400 riders, of which a good 500-600 probably wouldn’t finish in under 11 hours.  I continued up Hagerman Pass road at a pace faster than I’ve ever done on that stretch and then ran smack into the next traffic jam on Sugarloaf.  Again, I had to pick my spots to pass riders going up Sugarloaf and was often slowed to a standstill.  I finally reached the top of Sugarloaf at 2 hours.  I was now 30 minutes off a sub-9 pace and 22 minutes slower than 2010.  I still hadn’t re-set any time goals as I was just trying to make up as much ground as possible and then re-evaluate when I got to Twin Lakes. 

The Powerline descent was just as frustrating as the St. Kevins and Sugarloaf climbs as the line of riders was thick and descending skills among that group just weren’t that great.  Actually, that’s probably an unfair statement.  There were likely many good descenders.  Unfortunately, it just takes a few poor descenders to hold everyone up and there just aren’t many safe places to pass and I didn't want to risk a crash that would end my race or someone else's.  So what is usually a fun white-knuckled smiley-faced descent was a lesson in patience and wrist-pain from riding the brakes. 

Damn, this must be depressing as hell to read.  Let me switch gears.  It was a stunningly beautiful day and I was constantly making myself take a deep breath and enjoy the scenery.  There was still a lot of riding left to be done and there was no use riding it in a funk and ruining the whole day.  When I hit the Powerline aid station at 2:30, I finally decided that any attempts to reach any of my time goals would be futile and that I should just do everything in my power to enjoy the day.  When it came down to it, I was healthy and strong and I was getting to ride my bike all day long in some of the most beautiful mountains in the world.  I got unlucky, but it was time to stop worrying about time and simply worry about embracing the ride itself.   I did, however, need some incentive and it didn't take long to find some. What I decided was that I needed to catch-up to some of my fellow Team FD riders and ride the 2^nd half of the race with them.

So that’s what I did.  I put my head down and rode fairly hard through the Powerline section and arrived at the First Descents’ aid station at about 3 hours and 20 minutes.  I tried to ride in with a smile on my face as Lisa and Kevin both knew that I must be pretty disappointed to be arriving so late and I’m sure GMo had told them about the flat.  I shrugged it off, grabbed a new Camelbak and bottle and continued on my way and did my best not to be a downer in front of our awesome crew who had dedicated their day to making life easier for us riders. 

Off to Climb Columbine

I crossed the dam and went under the timing balloon at 3:25 and proceeded through a human tunnel through Twin Lakes that was larger than any of the previous 4 years.  Obviously the two movies combined with the larger number of riders had inflated the ranks of spectators.  In retrospect, I wish I had slowed down through this section if only to read all the signs and look at all the funny costumes and outfits.  Heading up the little climb out of Twin Lakes, I started feeling my first leg-weariness of the day.  I had obviously expended a lot of energy getting around some 800 riders over the past 30 miles and riding solo for long stretches of the Powerline and now it was coming home to roost.  I started up the main Columbine climb pretty slowly as I was feeling sluggish and a bit apathetic.  About halfway up the fire-road climb, I saw Mateo in the distance and picked up the pace to reach him.  We spoke for a little bit and then I started feeling a little surge of energy and started standing on the pedals and passing groups of riders.  I turned around and was psyched to see that Mateo was staying on my wheel.   Over the next 3 miles or so, we probably passed some 50-60 riders and I was starting to think that we could actually lay down a pretty decent time getting to the top.  Unfortunately, that became a no-go when we got to the steeper rocky section as there was not only a line of walkers, but the line was not moving very well.  I was actually happy to get off my bike and walk for a few minutes just to give the legs a break.  However, after a few hundreds yards, I wanted to get back on the bike, but there was nowhere to ride as descending riders were coming fast and furiously and ascending riders were slowly meandering up the trail. 

We were able to ride the flattish section approaching the fork and I had to open a few quick S-Caps on my tongue as my right knee started to seize with a cramp, but then we were off and on the bikes again for the next 25 minutes after the fork and the cramp went away.  This part was really frustrating as the walking pace was absurdly slow and I actually started to go a bit crazy with simple boredom.  Finally we finished the walking and happily rode across the top ridge and into the Columbine Aid station at about 5 hours and 30 minutes.  It had taken 2:05 to go from Twin Lakes to Columbine.  I was hoping to do this in 1:45.  I was admittedly slow the first few miles, but then picked it up pretty well for the dirt road.  Unfortunately, I think about 5-10 minutes were lost at the top solely because of the slow pace of walkers.  Then again, at this point, it really didn’t matter.  It’s not like I was going to go nuts worrying about a 10:18 finish versus a 10:28 finish.  If I wasn’t going to at least beat my 9:43 from last year, then the only thing relevant was another buckle.

Mateo and I hung around the Columbine aid station for about 8-10 minutes as we waited for Brook Edinger and Brad Ludden to arrive and get some food and then the four of us took off down the mountain together.  It was cool having a line of 4 lime green Team FD guys descending in the face of the ascending crowd, but we unfortunately had company in front of us by way of about 5 slow single-file riders who had become well-schooled in the fine art of squeezing the shit out of their brakes.  It was brutal.  There was nowhere to pass and nothing we could do except get in line, squeeze our brakes and count down the minutes until we would hit the open fire-road and pass.  When we finally reached the fire-road, I immediately shot past all three of my guys and all 5 of the guys ahead of us and bombed down on my own.  Other than the switchbacks, I barely hit my brakes the entire way down the mountain.

I hit the Twin Lakes aid station at about 6 hours and 18 minutes and rolled into the First Descents’ aid station a few minutes later.  At this point I’d pretty much lost my mojo and decided there was no point in rushing through the stop so that I could shoot for some time that was still going to be in excess of 10 hours.  So I took off my helmet, grabbed a seat and kicked-back.  I was feeling pretty hot and slightly light-headed so I dumped a bunch of water on my head and ate some watermelon.  Kevin and Lisa got my new Camelbak and bottle ready to go, but I wasn’t moving at quite their speed.  In the meantime, Brook, Mateo and Brad all arrived from their Columbine descent and each of them managed to get their crap together and get rolling before I finally got motivated enough to get my ass back on my bike.  I probably spent a good 10 minutes at our aid station.  That was easily the longest time I’ve spent at an aid station in 5 years.  Whatever, there was no rush and it was good to channel my inner Jamie Malin (who spent 20 minutes lounging at this aid station in 2009).

At least I'm smiling.

So this is what's it like to sit and rest during a race.

 

       

As I left the FD aid station, crossed highway 82 and started up the climb from Twin Lakes, I saw Mateo and Brad in the distance, but I just couldn’t get motivated enough to pick up my speed and chase them.  I figured I'd catch them sooner or later.  By the time I hit the single-track, the sun was blazing, it was hot as a furnace and I was having trouble getting fluids into what had rapidly become a distended stomach.  I was thirsty as hell, but a single swig from my Camelbak would uncomfortably fill me up.  I also felt some pressure in my “back-side” and hoped that I could make it to Pipeline Aid without having to take a detour into the woods with some toilet paper.

Fortunately, the rest of Pipeline passed pretty uneventfully and I avoided the toxic detour.  However, as soon as I rolled into the Pipeline aid station, I made a beeline for the Porta-Potties and spent the next 5-6 minutes . . . um . . . making myself feel better?  I can’t say this “emptying” gave me renewed enthusiasm, but I was certainly more comfortable in my seat upon leaving the aid station!  As the FD Aid station was located beyond the official Twin Lakes time check and the Pipeline Porta-Potties were located before the Pipeline time check, my split for this section was a pretty abysmal hour and 22 minutes, thus putting me at Pipeline at around 7 hours and 40 minutes. 

I quickly looked for Brad and Mateo, but they were nowhere to be seen.  However, as I was pulling onto the dirt road after Pipeline, I spotted a Team FD kit in the distance and started turning the pedals a little quicker to catch whoever it was.   It turned out that the kit belonged to X2C and I caught up to him near the Fish Hatchery as we approached Powerline.  X was his usual cheery self and he actually led the way for the first half of Powerline.  Did I mention that X is a cancer survivor, former FD camper, camp director at several FD camps this summer and all-around amazing guy?  I couldn’t help but be inspired by his infectious energy and, by the time we hit the top half of Powerline, I was pretty determined to stay on my bike the rest of the way even though most other riders around us were getting on and off their bikes.  About ¾ of the way to the top, we came upon Brad walking his bike.  He looked pretty spent, but there were no concerns about his getting the buckle as he had plenty of time to spare.  We kept riding and soon came upon Brook walking a steep rocky section.  Again, I had no concern about his getting the buckle, so I gave him some encouragement and I kept riding.  About 300 vertical feet short of the summit, I turned around to tell X that we were almost at the top, but he had fallen back somewhere and was now nowhere to be seen.  Oh well, alone again.

Powerline continued to provide its usual maudlin entertainment right up to the last vertical foot.  I passed one guy who said that his bike computer read 94 degrees.  In my 5 Leadvilles, we’ve had unusually hot weather in 3 of them, but nothing like this.  I was craving fluids, but still couldn’t get anything down into my stomach.  I was actually pretty shocked that I hadn’t started cramping yet.  I finally reached the top at about 9 hours and 10 minutes and considered waiting for my bedraggled friends.  However, that consideration lasted about 1 second as Mateo was still ahead and I just wanted to get done with this race.

With the inevitable triumph and glee that accompanies the summiting of Powerline, I bombed down the rocky section of the Sugarloaf descent and the Hagerman Road dirt section and tried to find either Kevin or Nick McHargue at the u-turn onto the pavement so that I could get rid of my Camelbak as I’ve done the last two years.  While there was a dude down there yelling my name, I saw no sign of Kevin or Nick and just kept going.  I learned later that the guy yelling my name was a friend of Nick’s and he was waiting there with a fresh bottle for me.  No matter, I still hadn’t touched the bottle on my frame since Twin Lakes and I was able to attach the empty Camel to my handlebars so that I could ride up St. Kevins unladen.  Just before starting the climb, however, a rider in front of me had his rear tire literally blow up in my face.  I stopped for a few minutes to try to help and ended up giving him a spare tire and then took off again.  By now I was so uncomfortably hot that I had removed my bib shoulder straps and let them hang down my sides and had completely unzipped my jersey.  Throw in the distended stomach hanging out over my shorts and I'm sure I was quite the vision.    Starting the St. Kevins climb, there were some saintly folks with water jugs and I allowed (i.e., begged) them to dump about a half gallon of water all over me.  Ahhhh, so nice.

The St. Kevins climb was no big deal.  I was able to alternate standing and sitting and did the climb in about 25 minutes, arriving at Carter Aid Station at about 9 hours and 50 minutes.  As I was pulling into the aid station, I saw Mateo pulling out, so I made my stop very fast, swigging a few ounces of coke, biting into a watermelon and moving on.  I caught Mateo on the first of three mini-climbs and told him to get behind me.  I also told him that our goal was to not put our foot down (i.e., get off the bikes) the rest of the way.  We covered this little section without any difficulty and suddenly found ourselves at the top of St. Kevins with one more descent to go.  I jumped ahead and blasted down St. Kevins and really noticed for the first time just how much the trail had been graded since last year.  There were no more huge rocks or trenches and I barely needed to touch the brakes the whole way down.  I was even smiling.

I shot out onto the dirt road at the bottom and was approached by a rider that I had passed on St. Kevins.  I thought he was going to lay into me for riding dangerously so close to the end, but instead he smiled and said “that was awesome man!  Way to descend!”  (I learned later that his name was Roger Villmow and he was also completing his 5^th Leadville.  Roger finished the race about 30 seconds behind me).  For the next few miles, I slow-pedaled to give Mateo a chance to catch-up as, at this point, I thought it would be cool to finish together.  He caught me just before Leadville Junction (site of my flat-tire mishap some 10 hours ago) and I looked at him and said, as a point of pride, “let’s finish strong.”  We both took it fairly slowly up the first steeper, rockier section of the Boulevard and then stood up and pounded most of the remaining miles back into town.  We reached the pavement at the top of the Boulevard, took the right on Harrison and crested the last hill and then saw the finish in the distance.  I asked Mateo to slow down for a second so that I could zip up my jersey and then we cruised the last mile to the finish, crossing the line side-by-side at 10:43:something, capping a long frustrating day with a very meaningful ending.

Side-by-Side finish . . . a great moment.

Brent and Mateo at the Finish

My #1 Crew-mate and Life-mate!

 

So buckle #5 is in the bag.  I’m halfway to the 1,000-mile buckle.  This race will be memorable for having 24 Team FD riders, 20 of whom finished and got buckles.   It will be memorable for having raised over $110,000 for First Descents.   It will also be memorable for having ridden with several first-timers who succeeded with great first races.  However, it will always gnaw at me that I didn’t check my valves more closely to ensure they were air-tight.  I don’t know whether I had a 9-hour finish in me this year.  For the first time in 5 years, I felt great at the start with no anxieties.  I’d ridden strong in the weeks leading up to Leadville and truly felt that if I had placed myself with 9-hour riders at the start and stuck with them through Twin Lakes, that I would be able to push myself through the last 60 miles to stay on pace.  Unfortunately, the early flat tire destroyed that chance.  I can’t blame the flat for the 10:43 finish.  I certainly could have kept riding hard and come in somewhere around 9:45.  However, the flat was too big a mental blow to force myself to endure a whole lot of torture for a 9:45.

While this year’s experience made me hungry for my return in 2012, it also illustrates how fickle bike-racing can be.  It sucks that a whole year’s worth of training and miles on the bikes can be derailed by something so stupid as an unsealed valve 6 minutes into the race.  It will be hard to get similarly motivated next winter knowing that something like that can happen again.  Then again, maybe it will be good to have a little inspiration fed by the need for payback!

Websites: 

TeamFD  Leadville - http://teamfd.firstdescents.org/2011/fd/leadville100/ 
Race-Video of Me:  http://www.goraceday.com/watch/4075/

Official Race Pictures:
http://www.zazoosh.com/events/searchPhotos/469?evtId=469&query=608&x=0&y=0

Side Notes:  Team FD rider Dirk Sorenson won the coveted "Last Ass Up the Pass" award granted to the last rider to cross the finish line before the 12-hour shotgun blast.  Dirk literally crossed the line AS the gun blasted.   Team FD rider and Leadman competitor Marty Saturn was literally the last ass up the pass as he crossed the finish line (or what was the finish line before it was disassembled) at 13 hours and 52 minutes in the fading light.  The fastest Team FD rider was once again Ryan Sutter with a time of 8 hours and 11 minutes.

2010 Triple Bypass

JULY 10, 2010

The allure of epic rides in the Rockies never wanes.  After doing the Triple Bypass in 2009 for the first time, there wasn't much doubt that I would return and do it again.  However, this time I came loaded with friends.  I guess my enthusiasm for the ride was infectious as I was able to convince 12 other guys to join me for the ride this year.  The crew included:  Kevin Kane, Dave Flyer, Michael Brodsky, Marc Bassin, Neil Cohen, Albert Small, Michael Gildenhorn, Marty Janis, Todd Levitt, Dean Gregory, Jamie Malin and Kevin Lawrence.   Some of these guys trained pretty hard specifically for the Triple and several were just in great shape from the other various events that they do. 

It was going to be a crapshoot how long we would all stay together during the day, but we all started together at 6:45am on Saturday morning, July 10.  It was a cool sunny morning and we were facing the typical Colorado forecast with a chance of showers sometime during the ride.  The climb up to Squaw Pass was gorgeous.  For some reason I had it in my head from the previous year that the climb was 12 miles, but it was actually about 15 miles.  We all started together, but the group started separating after about 2 miles as Kevin Lawrence, Dean, Jamie and I picked up the pace and everyone else strung along behind us.  I reached the Squaw Pass Aid Station a little after 8am and everyone else rolled in over the next 20-30 minutes.  So far no issues and the weather was perfect.

Jamie and I descended together and it was a blast getting behind his big frame and hitting speeds in the mid 40s.  We all regrouped at the bottom of the descent before going through Idaho Springs and our number had dwindled from 13 to 9.  Behind us were Michael, Sonny, Todd and Marty.  We all rolled through Idaho Springs and formed a paceline that stayed together for a good 5 or 6 miles until the road started to steepen a little. 

We arrived at Aid Station #2 at around 10:15am and started to see some clouds on the Western Horizon.  Aid #2 is about 44 miles into the ride.  Our group spread out again over the 12 miles from Idaho Springs and everyone left Aid #2 at different times as well.  I pulled out of Aid #2 with Kevin Kane, Flyer, Malin and Gregory and we began the big 10-Mile slog up to Aid #3 at Loveland Basin.  This section kind of blows as there is a good 5 miles of riding on the shoulder of I-70.  I decided to hit this section pretty hard and turn it into a training ride.  On the bright side, I enjoyed the pace and felt great pumping circles into Aid #3 at around 11:45am.  On the negative side, it was a good 30-45 minutes before the rest of the crew pulled in and I tightened up pretty badly sitting at the Aid Station for such a long time.

We didn't all pull out of Aid #3 until close to 1pm and now it was starting to cloud up pretty badly.  In fact, it looked downright dark at the top of Loveland Pass.  On the climb up to Loveland Pass, everyone strung out pretty well again and it was every man for himself when we each hit the top as it was starting to rain and hail.  The descent down through A-Basin and Keystone was fast and scary because of the weather.  I had bad memories of the year before when my front tire blew out and I had to catch a ride down in a SAG wagon.  Fortunately there were no issues like that this year.  I met up with Deano and Jamie at the bottom and we popped up over Swan Mountain without much trouble and arrived at the Frisco Aid Station #4 just as the skies really opened up and it started to pour.  We were now about 80 miles into the ride and it was around 2:15 in the afternoon.  I checked the radar map on my phone and it looked like we had about an hour of rain in store for us, but that it was clear behind the current storm.  Kevin Kane, Flyer, Neil and I decided to hang at the aid station and wait it out.  Everyone else either took off in the rain or had not yet arrived at the Aid Station.

At 3:15 the rain stopped and we ventured back out for the last 40 miles.  The ride to Copper was pretty uneventful and we kept a slow and smooth pace together.  We took a quick break at a tent at Copper and then climbed the 4 miles up to the Vail Pass Aid Station at Mile 93.  Several of the guys were waiting at the aid station, but we were essentially down to about 5 riders at this point.  Jamie and I hooked up for the descent and we passed anyone in our path on the way back into town.  Coming through Vail we hit a nasty headwind that pretty much sapped our remaining energy and we just cruised the last few miles to the finish in Avon, arriving at around 5:30pm.  Neil, Michael, Kevin Kane and Flyer arrived shortly after us. 

Interesting day.  My total ride time was about 7 hours and 45 minutes, but we were out there for about 11 hours.  I spent way too much time at aid stations, but that was the price to pay for riding with a big group.   A lot of fun nonetheless.

2010 Leadville Trail 100 Mountain Bike Race

 

Brent on St. Kevin's at the Leadville 100

Once again it’s time for that annual self-indulgent stroll down Leadville 100 recap lane. On Saturday, August 14, 2010, I competed in and completed my 4th Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race in Leadville, Colorado. This annual torture-fest is sadistically my favorite day of the year and the culmination of all athletic pursuits over the prior 11 months. 104 miles of dirt, grime and rocks on trails that climb up to 12,550 feet in the sky and with cumulative climbs of over 14,000 feet. It’s tough, it’s special, it’s beautiful, it’s . . . idiotic and borderline psychotic. Doesn’t say much for me, does it?

Leadville 100 Course Profile
Click Here for Animated Overhead View of the Leadville 100 Course

The cool thing about this recently acquired bike racing hobby is that I am now, at nearly age 43, in the best shape of my life. Which begs the question of why I waited so long to get that way? I “coulda been a contendah” if I hadn’t wasted my 20s and 30s devoted to career and children and beer and cheetos. Just kidding honey! Anyway, I first did this race in 2007 following a challenge from my now deceased best-friend Allan Goldberg. He was diagnosed with cancer in 2006 and wanted me to do a triathlon. I don’t run or swim, so I laughed in his face. Not to be deterred, he pulled some mental chicanery by using my love of mountain biking to challenge me to do the Leadville 100 mountain bike race. Accepting his challenge changed my life. That story is well told in my prior blogs, so a quick cut to the chase: In 2007 I participated in and finished my first LT100 in 11 hours and 11 minutes. In 2008, I improved to 10 hours and 35 minutes. In 2009, I improved yet again to 9 hours and 56 minutes. Yeah baby, who doesn’t like a good trend! So what was in store for 2010?

In the months, I mean days, I mean hours after the completion of the 2009 LT100, I decided that I wanted to shoot for Sub-9 hours in 2010. I wanted to smell the rarified air of the elite rider. I wanted the big Gold Buckle that goes to a sub-9 rider as my two Silver Buckles (for finishing between 9 and 12 hours) were lonely for a big brother. I vowed to dedicate myself to getting stronger during the off-season and did what I thought was necessary to do the trick. I played three nights of hockey per week during the winter. I supplemented the hockey with 1 to 2 sessions per week on the exercise bike doing intervals. In April I started pounding the hills and doing longer and longer rides. By June I was in amazing bike shape and could pound out 5000-8000 foot climb rides in my sleep. In early July I rode the 120-mile Triple Bypass with friends and crushed the climbs . . . even after sitting for extended periods at aid stations waiting for the other guys to roll in and get ready to go again.

Then the trouble started. A week after the Triple Bypass, I raced in the Silver Rush 50 mountain bike race in Leadville. While I put up a respectable time of 5 hours and 40 minutes, I never really felt great and I suffered my first leg cramps of the season. Had I overdone it? Maybe I shouldn’t have done this race a week after the Bypass. Maybe I needed some rest. Maybe I needed a pre-frontal lobotomy. I took 5 days off the bike and went to Canada with Lisa to visit my kids at camp. Upon my return, I resumed riding, but still found myself getting sore quickly and losing energy on 2-3 hour rides. I tried to compare stats from similar rides the prior year and noticed that I was putting up numbers that were at or actually behind where I was the previous year. Unfortunately, at this point there was nothing I could do about it. Leadville was in less than 2 weeks and, as they say, the “hay is in the barn.”

I was a wreck the days before Leadville. I wanted the sub-9 so badly and had worked so hard for it, but in the back of my mind . . . actually the front of my mind . . . I just knew that somewhere my fitness had reversed and I wasn’t in the right form to do it. I couldn’t sleep during the 3 nights preceding the race. Intellectually, I knew I was being ridiculous and irrational, but I couldn’t find that trigger that would allow me to shut off my brain and sleep. For the first time in my four Leadvilles, I actually couldn’t wait to just get the damn race over with. I was tired of my bike and I was tired of worrying about training rides and fitness levels. I knew I would try my best to the end, but I also knew that I just didn’t have it.

Brent and Ryan in Leadman's Living Room

Almost Ready

Locked and Loaded

Race morning arrived and we did the 4am departure for Leadville from Vail. Following last year’s routine, we parked at Mike “Leadman” McHargue’s home and dropped our bikes at the start area at 5am. On the bright side, I had no mechanical issues to worry about this year as my bike and my tires were in great condition. Back at the McHargues, we dressed, paced, applied sunscreen and butt-balm, paced some more, made small talk, took some pictures, kept the bathrooms continuously occupied, paced one last time and, finally, suited up for battle and headed back to the start area at 6:10am.

Brent and Lisa Pre-Race

Some 1582 riders were registered for the 2010 LT100. I had heard that there were some 180 no-shows. 1400 riders riding is still a helluva lot of human bodies on bikes in one cramped space. Shit, did I say the word “cramped?” Bad omen. The weather was diametrically opposite what it was in 2009. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and there wasn’t a cloud predicted for the entire day. WHAT? That NEVER happens in Leadville. I had been in Colorado since July, 6 and had seen rain EVERY . . . SINGLE . . . DAY until yesterday. What are the odds? This was fantastic news . . . if you had a 10am tee-time or a family reunion picnic. For an all-day bike race at this altitude . . . not so much. No clouds means crazy direct sunshine. Crazy direct sunshine means hot dry dusty heat. Hot dry dusty heat over the course of a 9+ hour bike ride at 10,000+ feet altitude is a recipe for misery. Damn I wish I could remember the morning when I became a “glass is half-empty” guy! Where was my silver lining? I guess sometimes experience is a bad thing and I had too much experience with days like this. At least it was 37 degrees at the start, so no heat worries yet. 

Partial Team FD - Gonzo, Grayson, Brent, Ryan, Squatter (Missing - GMO and Leadman)

At 6:30 the gun went off and we were off and riding in the 17th Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike race. Like last year, we had some helicopters filming the race. Unlike last year, they weren’t here for Lance Armstrong who bailed from the race 4 days before. No matter, Lance’s presence from last year had turned this race into a national and international carnival . . . I mean, sensation. The Leadville 100 had easily become the most recognizable mountain bike race on the planet and despite the fact that there was no prize money or professional points awarded to the top guys, many of the top mountain bikers in the world were here this year to see what the hoopla was about . . . or to satisfy their sponsors who told them to get their asses to Leadville! The guys at front included 6-time champion Dave Wiens, Tour de France podium rider Levi Leipheimer, Olympic mountain bikers and endurance phenomenoms Jeremy Horgan-Kubelski (JHK) and Todd Wells, local endurance icon Jay Henry, legends Tinker Juarez and Ned Overend, and budding stars Matt Shriver, Len Zanni and Max Taam. Without Lance, any one of those guys had a shot at winning and the race at the front was sure to be an exciting and dramatic spectacle. I’m sure I would read all about it tomorrow. For now, I had my own race to ride.

2010 Leadville 100 Start
Click Here for Video of 2010 Leadville 100 Start

I started down the pavement with GMO (Gary Morris) on my left and Gonzo (Dave Gonzales) on my right and Squatter (Kevin Kane) behind me. GMO has done this race with me each of the past 3 years (as has Squatter) and his personal best time was set in 2008 with a 9:48. Like me, he also was dreaming of a sub-9 and I figured that my best shot of reaching that goal was to stick with him no matter what. The Leadville start is insane with 1400 bikers jockeying for position and speeding down a 3-mile pavement descent. I never took my eyes off GMO’s rear . . . tire . . . and stayed glued to him all the way down the pavement section, through Leadville junction and along the dirt road to St Kevin’s. Gonzo and Squatter were not able to keep in contact with either of us. At the base of the St. Kevin’s climb, I stayed attached to GMO’s wheel and we kept a decent pace up the steepest part of the climb. So far so good. Since he had beaten me in every race we did together over 4 years and I was having no problem staying with him, maybe I was in better shape than I thought. About ¾ of the way up the steep climb, GMO slipped and put his foot down and had to quickly move to the side of the trail to let others pass. I didn’t want to disturb my rhythm, so I kept moving and assumed that he would quickly catch back up to me. That was the last time I would see him for the next 43 miles. I crested St. Kevins and the three mini-climbs after St. Kevins and hit the Carter Aid Station at 55 minutes. Not bad. Not great. Actually very mediocre. I used the downhill pavement descent to chug from my bottle, eat a hammer-gel and pop an S-Cap and then hit the uphill pavement on the other side of Turquoise Lake at a fairly benign but steady pace. Made the turn on Hagerman Road and again kept a steady pace of about 11mph. I knew I should be going faster, but just felt sluggish enough that I didn’t want to push it with so much riding ahead. I continued at a decent pace up Sugarloaf and hit the top at 1:38. This was about 8 minutes behind the pace I thought I needed for sub-9, but was 7 minutes faster than I had hit this spot in 2009. Still no sign of GMO. The sun was now out in force and it was getting warm. 

The Powerline descent this year was a blast. The trail was in beautiful shape and the conditions were perfect for a screaming descent. I passed a number of riders on the descent, including Roxy Hall. Roxy was one of the riders featured in the 2009 Leadville documentary called “Race Across the Sky”. A Leadville native, she had been brutally banged up in a horrible car-bike wreck in the summer of 2008 and bravely fought her way back to participate in and buckle in the 2009 LT100. Speaking of “Race Across the Sky” (don’t mess with me, I’m Captain Segue), the production company for the movie is called Citizen Pictures and they are based in Denver. About a month before the race, I heard through the grapevine that they would be filming a Race Across the Sky sequel and were looking for interesting feature stories for the new movie. Apparently they realized that last year’s version was too Lance-centric and there wasn’t enough storytelling. In late July, Lisa and I visited the Citizen Pictures offices and met with Cyndi Ortiz and Mallory Potock to pitch the First Descents story. Shit, now I have to perform a digression wrapped inside of a digression as I didn’t really cover First Descents earlier. 

First Descents Camp - July, 2010 - "Camp Spoonberg"

First Descents is a Colorado-based foundation that runs outdoor adventure camps for young adults with cancer. When my friend Allan Goldberg challenged me to do the first LT100, he was Executive Director of First Descents. After accepting the challenge, I formed a team of friends to do the race and we set ourselves up as Team First Descents and used the race as a fundraiser for First Descents. The concept took hold and we have raced each year under the Team FD banner and have raised over $350,000 for FD in the process. In addition, I am now Chairman of the Board of Directors of the foundation and Lisa is Director of Communications for the organization. THAT is the story that we pitched to Cyndi and Mallory and they LOVED it. They told us the next week that they definitely wanted to feature our team and our story in the next movie and would be filming us before, during and after the race and would also film and interview our crew at the First Descents’ aid station at Twin Lakes.

On Friday before the race, they conducted a great interview with me and Ryan Sutter and they also gave us a camera to record the goings-on at the McHargues on race-morning and at the aid station. Additionally, each member of our group was given a sticker to put on our number plate on the front of our bike so that their film crew would know that we were “persons of interest” in the race. It was very hip and exciting stuff and we were all calculating what percentage the new movie would use of each of our remaining 15 minutes of fame (well, everyone except Ryan as he’s already famous). So we had that going for us. End digressions.

I reached the pavement at the bottom of Powerline at about 1:50 and tried to find a group of riders with whom I could paceline through the Pipeline Aid station. As usual, this search was pretty fruitless as mountain bikers know how to grow facial hair and say words like “stoked” and “gnarly”, but don’t know how to paceline. I hooked up with a blond-haired woman who was really moving and we took turns pulling through the aid station. Actually, she did most of the pulling as she was strong as an ox and it took quite an amount of effort to stay with her. During this section, I popped another S-Cap, ate another Hammergel and tried to drink as much as I could from my Camelbak. I hit Pipeline Aid Station at 2:10. I was still only 7 minutes ahead of 2009 pace and I could already feel some fatigue creeping in. Now I knew I wasn’t imagining things in the weeks leading up to the race. I should have still been fresh at this point and I simply wasn’t. Blondie ultimately ditched me, so I kept a steady solo pace through the Pipeline section, hit the last little climb with some renewed energy and crested the last hill at 2:50. Other than the finish, this is my favorite moment of the race for several reasons. For one, when you crest the hill, there is a beautiful view of Twin Lakes, the dam and the huge crowds at the bottom of the hill. Second, it is a screaming pavement downhill to Twin Lakes and I know that the reward at the bottom is stopping at the First Descents aid station and seeing Lisa and all our other friends and supporters at our aid station. Pulling to a stop a Twin Lakes and seeing Lisa’s big smile is a huge pick-me-up and it allows me to briefly forget whatever pains I may feel and the hell that is ahead.

Lisa, Brent and Bruce Winston

Feed me Please!

I tried to make my aid station stop very brief. In 2009, I spent too long here when I pulled in going outbound. I quickly gave a bunch of high-fives to all of the great friends in the crowd, whipped off my Camelbak and exchanged it for a new one and looked for a new bottle that should have been ready and waiting to exchange with my empty bottle. Where was the bottle? In all the hoopla, Lisa forgot to prepare it for me. She quickly threw in the water and the Powerbar powder and handed it to me. I wasn’t angry, but I was a little annoyed as I couldn’t help but wonder how her attention could have been so diverted to forget to do the one job I needed her to do. No matter. No harm no foul. Nick McHargue told me I was on a sub-9 pace, but I knew better. Surprisingly, Leadman was also at the aid station and was about to depart. I figured he would have been 10 minutes ahead of me by now since he got to start with the top guys this morning. This was great. He and I could make beautiful music climbing Columbine together. 

Off To Climb Columbine

We left the aid station and crossed the dam, hitting the Twin Lakes timer at 3:02. The dam was packed with people . . . even more that last year. It was deafening and awesome. Leadman and I went through the trail-gate one after another and then hit the small climb up the ridge overlooking the lake. Leadman accelerated up the trail and my legs would not respond. I felt like I was pedaling through mud. Slowly Leadman pulled away from me and there was nothing I could do except wave goodbye. I didn’t actually wave with my hand . . . but with my eyes. Then I took a drink from my Camelbak. Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!! Either my taste-buds had been inextricably dulled or I was drinking water . . . straight water. I took another pull. Yep, it was just water. Somehow my wonderful and loving and caring and diligent wife had failed to mix my Camelbak water with the Powerbar powder. Since the powder is what provides n-u-t-r-i-t-i-o-n, this was going to be a problem. I had 24 ounces of formula in my water bottle. On a hot day like this, that would last me about 45 minutes. However, Columbine was a 2-hour climb. Thus I was going to have to ride the top reaches without fuel. At first I was angry. Then I was annoyed at myself as I probably should have picked up on this possibility when I saw that the water bottle hadn’t been mixed when I arrived at the aid station. Then I actually felt sympathy for Lisa as I knew she would feel horrible when she discovered her mistake. For now, there was nothing I could do. This was Leadville and Leadville is about overcoming obstacles, big and small, that ALWAYS arise during a race. 

Leadman got farther and farther ahead and I started feeling more and more like colon fudge. After passing over that first ridge and riding through the valley, I started the actual Columbine climb with a sense of something between foreboding and resignation. I was pedaling slowly and every revolution was an effort. I wanted nothing more than to find a patch of grass and take a siesta, but knew that would only prolong the crappiness that I felt. I finished the formula bottle after the first of ten switchbacks and immediately took two S-Caps and ate 2 hammergels to try to counteract the lack of nutrition in my Camelbak. Nearing the second switchback, the first lead riders began to pass the other way. First was JHK. Less than a minute behind him was Levi. Next was Todd Wells followed shortly thereafter by Wiens and Bishop. I can only shake my head as I so clearly grasp the enormous difference in strength and talent that exists between them and me. Bye guys. When you are done, go catch a meal, a shower and a full football game . . . before I’m done! I put on some music to take my mind off the fatigue as I rounded the 3rd switchback. Then came the 4th and then the 5th switchback. Praise Mother Columbine that the switchbacks stayed in order! I found a slow rhythm at about 4mph and just stuck with it. I also hearkened back to an old saying of Allan’s and “put my brain in a box.” 6th switchback. 7th. 8th. I was slowly getting near the top of the dirt road and was ready to walk my bike a little bit. I remember wishing for this in 2007 and then hating the walk, but this time I was ok with it. I hit the 9th switchback and could start to feel some pre-cramp twinging in my knees and thighs. I finally reached the 10th switchback and the spot where the trail gets rocky and steep. This past Monday I rode this section in a training ride with absolutely no problem. Today, I didn’t even attempt it and dismounted. It was nice to be out of the bike seat. After a couple hundred yards of hike-a-bike, BAM, the cramps kicked in and I had to pull over and do some quick massage. I also bit directly into yet another S-Cap and washed the bitter powder down with a swig of water. Continuing on I was confronted with one of the funnier sights I’ve seen at this race as there was a guy standing to the side of the trail dressed in a vest and tie and holding out hot-dog bites and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer on a white towel and silver tray. It was comical, but I didn’t dare partake as a single bite would have sent my stomach to the circus.

Sir, may I tempt you with a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon?

The next mile and a half was spent alternating between hiking, pedaling and stopping to massage leg cramps. About a mile and a half from the top, Ryan passed me going down. I was glad to see one of us was doing well. Finally I reached the point where the steepness ended and I got back on my bike (just as Leadman passed me going down) and pedaled the last mile to the Columbine aid station, arriving at 5:02. I actually was shocked when I realized that I had made the climb in 2 hours. In 2008, I thought I rode up Columbine pretty fast and it took me 2:02. In 2009, I really thought I rode strong and it took 2:01. This year I felt like miserable camel-dung and actually rode up slightly quicker than the two prior years. Man oh man this race just confuses me to no end. At the turnaround, I quickly chugged three cups of Gatorade and filled my bottle with Gatorade and then got the hell out of the there.

The Columbine descent is a blast. For one, it is unadulterated mountain biking fun. Second, and more importantly, it signals the beginning of the return HOME! Starting down I began looking for familiar Team FD jerseys coming up. First was GMO. He was about 15 minutes behind me and didn’t look too happy. Next was Grayson at about 25 minutes back. Right behind him was Gonzo. Finally I passed Squatter at the bottom of the steep section and he gave me a big thumbs-up. Phew. I always worry about how Squatter’s doing as I want so much for him to do well, but am always concerned that he hasn’t put in enough training before the race. Continuing down the fire-road at break-neck speed I came upon Dirk about 2 miles lower. Behind him are still more riders. I think to myself that there is no way these people are going to finish, much less do it in 12 hours to buckle. I estimated that despite my feeling of fatigue and my murky self-perception of having climbed up Columbine in slow-motion, I still managed to pass some 1,000 ascending riders on my descent. What a far cry from 2007 when I was one of those riders in that bottom group.

Returning to the FD Aid Station After Columbine

I bombed back through the Twin Lakes dam at 5:39 and pulled into the FD aid station at 5:42. I would regret this later, but the first thing I said to Lisa when I pulled in was “Do you know what sucks about the Columbine climb?” She responded “what?” I then said “Climbing up without nutrition!” In retrospect, there was no upside to making her feel badly, but one doesn’t think clearly at that altitude after 60 miles of muscle rape. The truth of the matter is that I probably lost 10 minutes by not having the right drink mixture. However, at the end of the day, the 10 minutes was meaningless as I wasn’t going to do sub-9 with or without the right nutrition. I decided to spend a few minutes at the aid station and gather myself. I was sore and tired, but I wasn’t in agony and I didn’t have any concerns about getting through the last 42 miles. It was just a matter of how hard I wanted to go and what goal I wanted to go after. Did I mention that in some spheres of my life I am congenitally Type-A and must have a goal? Well, with my 9-hour goal out the window, I needed a new goal quickly and I immediately landed upon two. The first goal was to beat my best time of 9:57 set in 2009. The second goal was to beat GMO’s personal best time of 9:48 set in 2008. Both were doable if I simply rode the same time over the last 42 miles as I did last year. Last year I pulled out of Twin Lakes at 6 hours and did the last 42 in 3:57. Pulling out this year at 5:46, I calculated that a 3:57 would put me across the finish comfortably at around 9:43 . . . 5 minutes under GMO’s mark. I knew that I felt a lot better at Twin Lakes last year. However, I also just learned that “feeling better” isn’t necessarily the best indicator as I just climbed up Columbine faster than last year while feeling a helluva lot worse. Go figure.

Lisa, Brent and Dad and Gang - Twin Lakes Inbound

Yummm . . . watermelon.

Quite Thirsty

I exchanged my Camelbak and bottle for new ones (checking this time to be sure that both were properly mixed), gobbled an S-Cap, grabbed three new Hammergels and swallowed about 8 pieces of watermelon. I then gave a quick smile and thumbs up to the film crew and took some strength from my Dad’s smile as my Dad arrived at the aid station while I was climbing Columbine and this was his first time at the race (or any race for that matter). It was time to get my ass back to Leadville. Leaving the crew behind, I shot up the dirt embankment, crossed Rte 82 and began the slog back to town. 

Undele undele!!!

Time to Vamoose Back to Leadville.  42 Miles to GO!!

The Pipeline inbound section was very slow this year. In addition to the relentless sun, we had a pretty nasty headwind from Twin Lakes all the way to the base of Powerline. This slowed things up quite a bit. I didn’t really have any issues for the next 18 miles, but I didn’t go particularly fast. I rolled into Pipeline at 6:49. Last year I rolled in at 7:06. Thus I actually gained 2 minutes over last year over this section. Whoop de doo! For the first time in 4 LT100s I did not stop to get any food or drink at Pipeline Aid and just rolled right through. This turned out to be a minor brain fart and would have been a major brain fart if not for Nick McHargue (which I’ll explain farther along).

The dirt road and pavement from Pipeline Aid to the base of Powerline were almost as bad as any hill climb. The headwind was absolutely brutal and it made no difference if you were in a paceline or not. In fact, I got in a paceline of 5 people and we still weren’t moving! It is very frustrating after 75 miles of work to toil at 13 miles per hour on flat pavement because of headwind. It took 23 stinkin’ minutes to cover the few miles between Pipeline and the base of Powerline and my mind had gone absolutely numb in anticipation of the 1600 foot Dante’s Inferno Pipeline climb ahead. Starting up the climb, I was able to ride the lower section, but as soon as the path turned left and steeply upwards, I was off the bike. As usual, there was a crew of great fans giving high-fives, enthusiasm and budweisers at the turn, but I was not feeling very social as the dreaded “Powerline Push” began. I did manage to inquire about the race-finish and was told that Levi Leipheimer won in a record time of 6 hours and 17 minutes.  Whatever.  About halfway up the steep part of the hike-a-bike, my legs seized up with cramps again. I started having flashbacks to 2007 when I cramped badly on this section and pretty much had to walk all the way to the top. The worst memory of all was when GMO passed me about ½ mile from the top and finished 15 minutes ahead of me. I was hoping history wouldn’t repeat itself . . . not necessarily the GMO passing me, but the walking all the way to the top. Oh who am I kidding? I would be bitter as hell if GMO passed me again on this mind-fuck of a climb. I bit into two S-Caps and swallowed the powder with one of the last remaining swigs of my Camelbak. The Camel was now empty and I had about half a bottle of formula left. I had consumed some 75 ounces of fluids in the 2 hours since I left Twin Lakes. Rubbing out the over-stressed muscles above me knees, I continued gingerly up until the trail plateaued and then I hopped back on my bike for a quick 70 foot descent before the trail continued up again. This was a moment of truth with the cramps. Would I be able to pedal? I got into the lowest gear possible and just tried to evenly spin. So far so good. It seemed that a constant, even motion was doable. When the trail got too rocky or suddenly steepened, the legs would seize and I’d have to walk. After playing this game 3 or 4 times, I simply recognized that it wasn’t worth trying to fight the terrain changes and I just got off and pushed whenever prudent. The one time I did try to push through some larger rocks, I came to a standstill and my left leg completely seized. I toppled onto my right side and simply sat there in the middle of the trail unable to move as I literally could not straighten my leg. I counted to 10, massaged a little and then was slowly able to bend the leg. Ow that hurt. Time for another S-Cap . . . which I washed down with the last drops of fluid from my bottle. I don’t even want to think about how much sodium I had consumed through S-Caps in the last 4 hours. I felt like I was popping those things like M&Ms. I was now out of fluids and was still 8 miles from the next Aid Station. Nick McHargue had told me that he would be hanging at Hagerman Road to collect Camelbaks from Leadman and from me. I don’t have a religious bone in my body, but I was praying to the hydration deity that Nick had some fluids with him. If not, I was in for a big western bitch-slap on the next climb. Anyway, I walked the bike for about 50 yards until the next moderate pitch, and then I was happily able to get back on the bike and continue. This on-again off-again merry-go-round went on for the next half hour until finally I looked at my altimeter and saw that I was only 50 feet in elevation from the summit of Powerline. This torture was actually almost over! 

Young St. Nick

At 8:12 I crested Powerline and began the descent down the backside (Sugarloaf). At 8:22 I reached the end of Hagerman Road and was mighty pleased to see Nick . . . AND HE CAME PREPARED. Bless you child! I tore my Camelbak off my back and threw it to Nick and he filled up my water bottle with some kind of mixture of Accelerade and water. Frankly, I didn’t care what the hell he put in the bottle. It could have been beer, apple juice, grenadine, mojito . . . I didn’t care . . . as long as it was wet. Thanking St. Nick, I made the u-turn and coasted down the pavement toward the southern end of Turquoise Lake and took a long swig of the new mixture. HOLY PUTRIDITY BATMAN! That Accelerade stuff sucked ass! I took two more swigs and nearly regurgitated the meager contents of my stomach all over the road. Great, now I had to contend with a queasy stomach along with the cramps. Fighting back the nausea, I circled the bottom of the lake and started the pavement climb up St. Kevin’s at 8:28. I have no explanation for what happened next because there was nothing in the 85-mile lead-up to this last major climb that would have given me any inkling that I would suddenly feel great, but that’s what happened. As soon as the road turned up, I completely unzipped my jersey, stood up on the pedals and started hammering. I must have reached that stage of muscle-numbing exhausted euphoria that endurance runners talk about because I felt no pain (even the nausea suddenly disappeared) and I literally flew up the climb. I passed some 20 riders, several as if they were standing still, and reached Carter Aid station in 21 minutes at 8:49. Despite the delays caused by cramping on Powerline, I had lost only 3 minutes from last year on the stretch between Pipeline and Carter Aid and now I was at Carter a full 14 minutes ahead of my 2009 pace. If I covered the remaining distance in identical time as last year, I’m in at 9:43. Barring a flat tire or some other disaster, I was going to achieve my secondary goals with a small cushion. 

At Carter, I emptied the remaining Accelerade on the ground where it belonged and refilled the bottle with Gatorade. I also ate a few watermelon slices and answered a quick question on camera from the Citizen Pictures guy who was standing there. Then I was off again for the final stretch. I covered the next 3 miles of trail without issue and then crested St. Kevins at 9:03. One more rocky descent to go and then it was all power pedaling to the finish. I conservatively bombed (sorry for the oxymoron) down the descent and hit the dirt trail at 9:10. I was a little surprised to have another headwind at this spot, but it wasn’t too bad. I looked for another biker to work with, but there was nobody within a ¼ mile of me in either direction and I couldn’t convince the nearest bovine to give me a lead-out. I hit Leadville Junction at 9:19 and reached the bottom of the “Boulevard” at 9:23. I’ve covered this in past blogs, but the Boulevard is the final fuck-you of this race. First of all, while this is advertised as the Leadville 100, the total mileage is actually about 103.5 miles and those last 3.5 miles start at the bottom of the Boulevard. The first 200 yards of the Boulevard are a steep pitch . . . well actually not that steep . . . but steep enough after 100 miles . . . and it is very rocky with boulders the size of elephants! Well, maybe little toy elephants. Many bikers dismount and walk this stretch. I stayed in my seat and just kept a constant slow spin to ward off the potential attack of some late flanking cramps. After 200 yards, the route just becomes a basic dirt road that climbs about 400 foot in elevation over 2 miles as it returns us to the heart of Leadville. Many guys on this section were flat-out finished and could barely turn the pedals over. For me, there is something about this last stretch that makes me want to go hard no matter how shitty I feel. The faster I nail this section, the faster I can be done and this is the last chance we have to give an effort that will have a direct impact on our final time. I stood up, put the bike in the middle front ring and pounded up the Boulevard with everything I had left. I wasn’t breaking any speed records, but I was passing people and I was feeling great about finishing strong versus limping in. 

Brent Approaching the Finish

Closer Still!

I took the left onto the pavement at the top of the dirt road and then the immediate right on Harrison at 9:40 and topped off the last little paved hill at 9:41 and there it was in front of me . . . the beautiful mirage-like finish. It was over. It was time to enjoy the last sprint down the hill and then up the last two blocks to the finish line. I felt absolutely no pain as I approached the red carpet and felt and heard the applause of spectators lining both sides of the street. And then I heard my name and hometown announced by the Leadville Mayor and I was across the finish line and into Lisa’s arms. My Garmin showed 9:42:34, but it appears that my official time is 9:43:06. This got me into the top 20% of all registrants.  Either way, I was thrilled that I had beaten my personal best and even more thrilled that I took the dubious Maryland title from GMO by over 5 minutes. I was also absolutely amazed that I hit the exact same time, to the minute, that I had calculated when I left Twin Lakes just under 4 hours ago. Just shows how well I’m getting to know this course and my own abilities after 4 years. 

Brent and Dad at Finish

Brent, Leadman and H-Town

I was given my finisher’s medal and then slowly moved out of the finishing area to find a seat. I was coughing like crazy from all the dust and I was craving my annual post-race fix of Ramen noodles. I was quite surprised to learn that Leadman had finished the race only 4 minutes ahead of me. It’s too bad I couldn’t stay with him on that Columbine climb as it would have been a lot more enjoyable doing the last 60 miles with him. As for the others, Ryan finished in 8:31, GMO arrived in at 10:15, Grayson at 10:51, Gonzo at 10:56 and Kevin at 12:18. Dirk was apparently a DNF.

Well-Deserved Rest

Leadman, GMO, Brent & Grayson

Another Leadville down and another Silver buckle in my pocket. So now what? Do I continue the pursuit of the Holy Grail that is 9 hours? I have to think long and hard about that. I guess I first have to figure out what made me feel weaker in the month before Leadville. If I don’t figure that out, then all the winter and spring training in the world is irrelevant. Next I have to figure out whether I want to expend another year of crazy training knowing full well that there are no assurances of success on race-day. I just don’t know.

After the awards ceremony on Sunday morning, Lisa and I took a ride to Aspen over Independence Pass. As we left Leadville, I drove a section of the LT100 course so she could see some of what we see on race-day. She was in awe of the beauty of the course and told me how great it must be to ride in such a beautiful place. I looked around and it dawned on me that I never once took in the sights and felt the beauty of my surroundings during the race. I was so consumed by my time and focused on my nutrition and energy levels that I failed to look around and smell the roses. Damn. Here I was . . . a guy who loves to mountain bike . . . and I got to go ride my bike all day long in this amazingly beautiful place . . . and I found no joy during the ride itself. In fact, how many times did I refer to the ride as torture? Isn’t there something wrong with that? Maybe next year I should forget about time altogether and just enjoy the ride. I could easily tone it down some 10-15% and feel little pain and just have fun . . . find friends to ride with and stay with . . . hang at the aid stations talking to crew and volunteers . . . SMILE and JOKE . . . formulate Haikus in my head . . .eat a hot dog on Columbine and drink a beer on Powerline. Maybe it is worth sacrificing some 60-75 minutes of time to gain perspective again. There is no question I’ll be back for the 5th buckle. I just need to spend some time figuring out how I want to do it. Of course GMO trying to reclaim his title may impact my thinking as well!