2012 Leadville Trail 100 Mountain Bike Race

2012 Leadville Trail 100

Mountain Bike Race

August 11, 2012

 

        I love the Leadville 100.  It is unnatural and questionably disturbing how much I love it.  I love the short but storied history of the race, I love the ambience, character and feeling of the town of Leadville, I love the characters associated with the race (guys like Ricky McDonald, Stephen Rodgers, Doc, UltraRob, Roger and, of course, the ageless wonder and mentor of all, Sir Arthur Fleming), I love the training and how strong it makes me feel, I love the pre-race and race-day experience, I love the sadistic suffering and, most of all, I love crossing the fu**ing finish line!  On August 11, 2012, I participated in and completed my 6th Leadville 100.  It was a great day.  It was a miserable day.  It was a rewarding day.  Like my other 5, it was a day I won't ever forget.

       This is the 6th time I have blogged about this race.  I'm going to take a leap of faith (which is not easy for an agnostic) and assume that anyone reading this one has read at least one of my other five.  Thus I'm going to skip all the background about why I do this race (originally as a challenge from my late best friend, Allan Goldberg), why I continue to do this race (personal challenge and as a fundraiser for the First Descents cancer organization) and why I will continue to do this race (because I'm an idiot and hopelessly addicted).  I will also keep course descriptions to a minimum as I have described the course sufficiently in my previous narratives.

       My finish times in the Leadville 100 improved on a nice downward track from 2007 to 2010 as I went 11:11, 10:35, 9:57 and 9:43.  In 2011, I was shooting for a sub-9 hour finish, but my plans were immediately derailed by an untimely flat-tire at mile 3.  I ended up riding most of the 2011 race with friends and finished in 10:43.  This year I was looking for some redemption and improvement.  I had worked hard all spring and summer using a slightly different training regimen.  I put in less volume, but rode harder when I rode.  By race-day, I felt like I was in great shape and while deep-down I didn't think I was in sub-9 shape, I felt that I could get within spitting distance if I had none of my usual mechanical issues or cramping.

      On race morning, GMo (Gary Morris), Hoof (Kevin Kane), Mateo (Matt Hayne) and I were out the door from Vail at 3:50am and we made the trek to Leadville, arriving at Mike and Laurel McHargue's Leadville abode (affectionately known as the "LeadAss Inn") at 4:50am, where we met Jamie Malin and Kyle Herren.  After exchanging some quick groggy 'good mornings,' we immediately grabbed our bikes and helmets and rode to the start, laying our bikes down in our respective starting corrals.  GMo, Mike, Kyle and I (along with our friend Mike Lamond) were in the red corral (3rd corral) based upon prior times in the LT100 and/or the Silver Rush 50.  Mateo was in the purple corral (5th corral) and Hoof was in the back corral as he didn't race last year.  We also had another 12 racers in various corrals making up the 23 riders of Team FD.

15 of the 23 riders from 2012 Team FD Leadville

 

Final Preparations



Chillin'



Pre-Race - Mike, Jamie, Mateo, Kevin, Ryan, Brent

      It was a chilly morning in the low 40s, which was actually warmer than prior starts, and dawn was slowly greeting us with the makings of a cloudless blue sky.   The gun went off promptly at 6:30am and we were off down 6th Street.  I took it easy down the inital paved descent to Leadville Junction and breathed a sigh (or was it a grunt?) of relief when we turned onto the dirt and both of my tires were still full of air (see 2011 Blog).  GMo was right behind me when we turned onto the dirt, but I lost sight of him about a mile before the start of the St. Kevins ascent. 

      The climb up St. Kevins wasn't too eventful.  I never pushed too hard, kept my heartrate below red-line and felt pretty good the whole way up.  I didn't really try to pass anyone and pretty much kept the riding pace of those around me.  Several uppity guys passed me, but I didn't feel the need to try to be a hero this early in the race and was looking forward to seeing where things stood when I reached Carter Summit at mile 10.  I would be happy with anything under 55 minutes.

      I reached Carter Summit in 53 minutes . . . 4 minutes faster than my previous fastest time to this point.  It was still far too early to tell whether 9 hours was possible, but I was definitely off to a promising start.  I used the St. Kevins' road descent to ditch my arm-warmers and chug about 12 ounces of fluids.  As I was making my way around the last curve at the bottom of the descent, I felt my front tire start to slide on the pavement.  I rode another couple hundred yards hoping upon hope that I was imagining things, but noooooooo, I wasn't.  Flat tire.  How many times do I have to read this book?!?!  I had just bought brand new Maxxis Aspen tires 10 days ago and had the shop do the tubeless installation just to be sure it was done right.  I rode on them 5 or 6 times to ensure that the sealant spread throughout both tires and that the tires were properly seated to the rim.  I bought two brand new rim strips and two new new tubeless valve-stems.  Unfrickinbelievable.  I pulled over and began inspecting the tire and discovered air escaping from a small puncture hole smack in the middle of the tread.   Apparently the hole was too big for the sealant to seal it (nice deduction right?), so I figured that I'd have to stick a tube in the tire.  Just as I was about to take apart the tire, GMo pulled up and said that he had a special kit with a gummy rubber substance that plugs punctures.  He pulled out a needle, shoved the rubber stuff into the hole and, presto, the leak was plugged.  I pumped up the tire with a CO2, waited for GMo to relieve himself and then we were off again.  The repair took about 5 minutes, but I wasn't panicking as there was plenty of race to ride.  Also, maybe GMo and I could actually work together from here forward to make up the lost time.

       At this point of the race, the pavement turns up toward Hagerman Pass road and I put the bike in the middle front ring and started pushing up at a pretty strong pace.  Assuming GMo was right behind me, I didn't look over my shoulder for about a half-mile and when I did, I saw that GMo had fallen a good 100 yards back.  I hope he didn't think I was an asshole for scooting out ahead of him.  Then again, it was too early in the race to slow down and wait if he was simply not feeling strong enough to keep up and I was pretty sure he recognized that.  Upon making the turn onto Hagerman Pass Road, GMo was nowhere to be seen and I just kept plowing ahead.  My next time checkpoint to measure my progress was at the crest of Sugarloaf Mountain.  I originally projected needing to hit this summit at 1:35 to remain on a 9-hour pace.  With the flat tire fix, I was thinking that I would be ok if I could get to the top in under  1:40.  I rode steadily up Sugarloaf, again not pushing too hard or red-lining, and made it to the top in 1:38.  Ok, I was starting to think that I could overcome the early flat and still have a shot at 9.  If not 9, then I felt really confident about something well under 9:30.  Cue up the foreboding music.

       The Powerline descent was going well.  There was plenty of space between riders and the trail was in great shape.  Then about 1/3 of the way down the descent, the next 'fuck me' moment hit as my front tire hit a rut and instantly went from fully inflated to completely flat.  One minute I was gleefully flying along, the next minute I was nearly crashing into the side bank as the front-tire had no traction.  Arrrggggghhh!!  I pulled the bike off the trail and into the woods and looked down to find that the tire had unseated from the rim (known as a tubeless tire burp).  Now I had three choices:  (1) attempt to re-seat the tire to the rim and inflate it, (2) take off the tire and throw in a tube . . . which I was now regretting not doing when I flatted the first time, or (3) throw the bike into a frickin' tree.  Wisely, I quickly eliminated option 3.   I briefly considered option 1, but then recalled that when I bought the tires 10 days ago, Dan at the shop actually had a very difficult time getting the tire to attach to the rim, and that was using a powerful air-compressor.  There was no way my little can of CO2 was goint to do the trick and if I tried, the end result was that I would probably blow (no pun intended) through all my CO2 and still end up with a flat tire without any other means for inflation.  Thus it was option 2 . . . inserting a tube.  The whole process of determining my options, selecting option 2, cleaning all the gooey sealant out of the tire, searching for any burrs or other sharp protrusions, putting in and inflating a tube, checking on the plug that GMo inserted and getting the tire back on the bike probably took 7 or 8 minutes.  Clearly this is a skill I need to practice.  

         Now I was really bummed out.  Some 300-400 riders probably passed me as I was repairing the tire and reality was setting in that flat-tires had once again derailed my race.  I got back in line with Powerline descenders and the pace was drastically slower than what it was prior to the flat.  To add insult to injury, I started noticing that my rear-tire was feeling a bit squishy around the last turn at the bottom of the descent.  Of course.  Why not?  All I could do was laugh as I got off the bike yet again, threw the CO2 over the valve and blew it back to full pressure.  Maybe I would finally get lucky and the sealant in the rear tire would find the leak and seal it.  If not, I would simply wait until the air pressure dropped again and then put a tube in the rear as well.  Whatever.

 

Powerline Descent (picture taken by Tom Lining)
 

      So, three flats in a 10-mile stretch.  Story of my Leadville life.  That's 9 flats in 6 years of this race.  Not normal.  I turned onto the pavement off the Powerline trail in a pure funk of disappointment and frustration.  Once again, all of my time-goals were shot to hell and I wasn't really in the mood to formulate new goals.    I rode the next 5 miles to Pipeline trying to fight apathy.  I didn't pedal particularly hard and I really tried to focus on just enjoying the sights and sounds of the race.  I even briefly thought of slowing down and waiting for Kevin, but I didn't know how far back he was and, frankly, I wasn't so sure that my presence to him wouldn't have the opposite effect and annoy the crap out of him.  I hit Pipeline at 2:24 . . . a good 24 minutes slower than my projected 9-hour pace.  An outsider looking in might say "so just ride the same ride from here out and try to finish in 9:24."   Unfortunately, that's just not how it works.  The difference in the speeds of riders passing through Pipeline at 2:24 versus 2:00 is significant.   Morevoer, where that 24 minutes was really going to cost me was on the last 3 miles of Columbine as I would be hike-a-biking a bit lower down the trail.  Wah wah, woe is me.  Get over it.

      I actually enjoyed the Pipeline section, riding it at a nice leisurely pace and, physically, I felt great when I crested the last rise before dropping down to Twin Lakes.  While screaming down the pavement to the Aid Station, I vowed to myself that I wasn't going to impose my frustration on Lisa or anyone else out there to support us.  I pulled into the Aid Station with a smile, grabbed a new bottle and Camelbak, gave a hug, kiss and big thank you to Lisa, gave a high-five to my buddy Jon Lerner who made the trek over from Aspen and then took off for Columbine alongside Jamie Malin (who was leaving the Aid Station the same time as I).



FD Aid Station - Twin Lakes Outbound - With Lisa and Jon Lerner



     We passed through the Twin Lakes timer at 3:17 and blew through the tunnel of humanity at Twin Lakes.  Wow, this was the biggest mass of people at Twin Lakes in my 6 years of this race . . . even bigger than the Lance years!  Very cool.  Heading up the first small climb out of Twin Lakes, I stopped for a few minutes to try to go to the bathroom, but did not succeed.  A bit farther up, we came upon fellow Team FD'er Dirk Sorenson trying to fix a chain that had gotten stuck between the front chain ring and the frame.  Jamie and I both got off our bikes and Jamie was able to pry the chain loose.  Continuing on, Jamie pulled away as we began the Columbine climb and I wasn't yet in the mood to chase him.  At this point, I still had not re-set any time goals and was still lacking motivation to try to hammer up Columbine.  I briefly pulled over and turned on my Ipod and just started riding a steady relaxed pace up the climb.  At about the 4th switchback, I finally began to remove my head from my ass (where it had been firmly entrenched since flat #3) and started thinking about how I wanted to ride the next 6 hours.  I also started thinking about my friend Brad Reiss for whom I had proclaimed earlier in the week that I would be honoring with this race.  Brad was sitting home in his apartment in New York wearing his Team FD bike jersey and following my progress on the live-timing website.  It was time to make him proud and stop wallowing.  While a personal best time was probably out of reach, I decided that it was still important to me to finish with a 9 in front of my name and not a 10.  With that, I immediately stood up on the pedals and increased my pace.

     I caught and passed GMo between the 8th and 9th switchback (he obviously got past me when I was fixing flat #2) and then passed Jamie between the 9th switchback and the end of the dirt road.  As expected, I had to dismount from the bike as soon as the trail hit the steeper rocky section as it was a line of walkers in front of me and the effort required to ride past the walkers while simultanously avoiding oncoming descending traffic was not worth the expenditure.   I rode a couple sections where it flattened out, walked the steeper sections and finally got on the bike for good a few hundred yards before the trail turned left across the last upper ridge.  I arrived at the Columbine Aid Station at 5:12 and spent just enough time there to chug a cup of gatorade and then move out.  The climb from Twin Lakes took 1:55.  That beat my 1:57 ascent in 2010 despite the 2-3 minutes spent helping Dirk and trying to relieve myself.  It was still well off the 1:45 pace I needed for sub-9, but I think the story would have been quite different if I had been on 9-hour pace when passing through Twin Lakes.

     Sharing the trail with hundreds of ascending riders to my left, I had no choice but to take the descent fairly conservatively.  I saw Jamie and GMo in the early stretches and then slowly passed other Team FD riders lower down the trail.  At the bottom of the rocky section, I started to get concerned as I still had not seen Kevin.  I went through the 1st, 2nd and 3rd switchbacks and still saw no sign of him.  Finally, just before the 4th switchback, I came upon Kevin walking his bike.  He gave me a look of frustration and resignation, but I was going too fast to do much more than just frown and tell him to keep fighting.




      I made it back to Twin Lakes feeling good, crossing the timer at 5:49 and then arrived at the Team FD aid station at 5:53.  Once again, I switched out my bottle and Camelback for new ones and also quickly chugged a 20 ounce bottle of Infinit to rehydrate as I barely drank anything during the Columbine descent.  I gave another hug and kiss to Lisa, a quick handslap to my dad and was off for home at 5:55.

Returning to FD Aid Station from Columbine

      In 2009 and 2010, I rode the 43.5-mile finishing stretch in exactly 3:57.  I felt stronger today than in those two years, but today we also had a massive head-wind blowing north to south which I knew would be a huge buzz-kill for most of the ride in.  I simply assumed the two factors (feeling stronger vs. headwind) would cancel each other out and I would be looking at something pretty close to a 9:52 finish (5:55+3:57=9:52).  Not as good as my 9:43 in 2010, but respectable nonetheless.

     Now that my finish time was preordained, I will try to quickly get through the last 43.5 miles.  Pipeline inbound was relatively tame, though the wind definitely slowed things down leading to the single-track.  The single-track was the usual slow slog and the rest of Pipeline was uneventful.  I did come upon my friend, Matt Delaney, about 2/3 of the way through the Pipeline and tried to encourage him to ride with me the rest of the way, but he had that glazed I'm-in-my-pain-cave-leave-me-the-flock-alone look in his eyes and he told me to ride on.  I reached Pipeline Aid Station in 6:57, which was still pretty much right on a 9:52 pace.  As an aside, for the past 3-4 hours, I had this annoying underlying feeling that I needed to pee, so I once again pulled over and tried to relieve myself.  I pushed hard, I thought of raging streams, I tried deep breaths and zen-like concentration . . . all to no avail.  Back on the bike.

     The headwinds between the section from Pipeline to Powerline were ridiculous.   There was one point where I was in a paceline with 6 other riders and we couldn't get over 11mph . . . on FLAT GROUND!  Brutal.   Finally got to Powerline, rode up the initial section and then settled in for the 10 minute grinding walk when the trail turned left and streaight up.  This walk is totally miserable and will always be totally miserable, but it is what it is.  At least this year we had some cloud-cover and it wasn't blistering hot like the past few years.

Turning onto Powerline (Inbound)

     After cresting the 1st of 4 false summits, it was back on the bike for the remainder of the Powerline climb.  There were several points where I thought of dismounting and walking, but figured that as long as I wasn't cramping, I might as well keep riding.  The rest of the ride up Powerline was its the  usual painful, arduous, mind-f**k, but I've learned through experience to just shut everything off, "put my brain in a box" and keep pedaling forward, one revolution at a time. 

     I reached the top of Powerline at 8:21, right on schedule, had a fun descent down Sugarloaf and got around the bottom of Turquoise Lake and began the pavement climb up St. Kevins at 8:35.  Normally I don't mind this climb.  In fact, I should have really enjoyed it today as it was one of the few spots on the last 43.5 miles where we actually had a tail-wind.  However, I just wasn't feeling the mojo on this climb today.  In fact, I was really starting to feel like dog-shit.  Ironically, I didn't fare too badly timewise on this stretch, as I made the climb in 23 minutes and arrived at Carter Summit at 8:58.  Barring another flat, I would make it home in 50-55 minutes and easily break 10 hours.

    At Carter Aid, I quickly swallowed a few pieces of watermelon and continued on.  There are three punchy little climbs between Carter and the top of St. Kevins that I've been able to ride each of the past three years.  This year, I made it up the first two, but just didn't have the energy (or desire) to ride up the 3rd one.  I knew it would only cost me about 30 seconds, but was still a bit surprised by my fatigue.  I bombed down the St. Kevins descent, nearly crashing from a hidden ditch about 3/4 of the way down and then got in with a small group of riders from the base of St. Kevins all the way to the base of the Boulevard.  I used up the remaining reserves in my tank picking my way through the rocks over the first 200 yards of the Boulevard and then pedaled up the remaining road to town in a catatonic state.  Even the final triumphant turn onto 6th Street was a chore and, for the first time in 6 races at Leadville, I felt very little exuberance riding up the last short 1/2 mile to the finish.  I was simply done and checked-out.

    I sluggishly limped across the finish line with a finishing time of 9 hours, 52 minutes and 49 seconds.  How's that for spot-on?  I received the finisher's medal and obligatory hug from Merilee and then got my usual wonderful hug from Lisa and also one from my dad.  Then I leaned against the fence.  And then I slid down the fence and simply sat in a daze.  I was totally spent, totally relieved and, once again, totally rewarded and proud.

 

Approaching the Finish Line

 

 

Done

Fried

 

Brent and Dad

 

Brent and Lisa - Sweet hairdo!

Jamie, Brent, Kyle and GMo at Finish

    So, what were my takeaways this year?  For one, I think this was my strongest effort yet.  That being said, I am not going to delude myself into thinking sub-9 was in my grasp.  Realistically, without the flats, I am reasonably confident that I would have finished around 9:20.  If I am seriously going to make a run at sub-9 in the future, I think the only way to do it is to train for 8:30 so that I have a margin for error.  While I rode pretty strong all year, I never really built my power to where I needed to be for sub-9.  This became evident in a training ride that I did with Mateo two weeks before Leadville.  Mateo and I crossed the line side-by-side in 2011 in a time of 10:43.  This year, Mateo spent the spring doing a regimen of twice-weekly power hill puke intervals and it showed.  On our very first climb up St. Kevins on the training ride, he effortlessly shot up the climb ahead of me and put some huge distance between us.  Now granted he is also only 29 years old, but his training clearly put him in a better place.  Another thing that Mateo did was lose a ton of weight early-on in the process.  He said that he started eating smart as soon as Leadville 2011 was over so that he was already in fighting shape when he started his training in January.  Mateo finished this year in 8:46.  I have always taken the wrong approach by stuffing my face from September through December and gaining 15 pounds under the misguided expectation that I would simply lose it all between January and August.  What I've learned is that I can't effectively build power if my body has to spend all of its energy losing weight.  Thus my goal for the next 4-5 months has to somehow include keeping the weight off.  Finally, I've convinced myself the last several years that it is important for my mental fitness to take an extended period off the bike from late October through February.  If I'm serious about sub-9, I should be riding throughout the year.  I just somehow need to find a way to keep it interesting during the cold winter months.

     And there it is.  Six Leadville 100s and six silver buckles.  All great and different experiences.  Right now I am pretty amped up to make one more strong run at sub-9.  Of course, that could simply be the normal post-race euphoria that may wane in the coming weeks.  We'll see.  One thing I do know for sure, regardless of whatever I choose to do fitness-wise in the next year, is that I will be back on the starting line for #7 next year.  Only 4 more finishes until the 1,000 mile buckle!

     For a cool video of my race, check out:  http://www.goraceday.com/watch/17107/.

 

2011 Leadville Trail 100 Mountain bike race

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.