Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Leadman Act Three - LT100 MTB Race

Concentrate on the next 100 yards in front of you; that is all you can control, and then deal with the next 100 yards when you get there. These were the words I used to pull myself through the toughest event I have participated in so far during my short racing career, which hasn’t quite spanned 2 years now. These were also the words that I used to finish the LT100 Mountain Bike Race, and earn my buckle.
They weren’t anything original that I came up with, but rather some advice form a gentleman wearing a black jacket at the newbies meeting held on the Friday before the race. However, they were definitely some words of sage advice that I am sure I will use again. Like in the very near future; think LT100 Trail Race.
I haven’t been a runner for very long; at least where I can say I was serious about my running, maybe just less than 2 years now. For an even lesser period of time though, like only for the past 6 months have I been riding a mountain bike. So, it was with great relief that I crossed the finish line at the LT100 MTB in under 12 hours; just barely under 12 hours and in a time that, while guaranteeing me the privilege of continuing on in my Leadman saga, was nothing to really brag upon, and left me feeling like I have so much more to do. Can you be happy, relieved, and disappointed all at the same time? These are some of my mixed emotions, and I am not sure if I am throwing too much stuff on my yoke to carry around anyway.
The LT100 MTB is a storied race to be sure, and well documented in American mountain biking culture, as it even had its own movie premiere just this past winter. The movie guaranteed an explosion in its popularity, and there are more people than eve vying for an entry into the race. To get in, one normally enters via a lottery, which leads some riders to scoff at the event, saying that anyone can get in if they are lucky enough, thus downgrading the talent pool for the race. Their argument would be that only the elite riders should be allowed entry so the race would be more legit in the eyes of the cycling community. If that were the case, I would certainly not be counted among the ranks of eligible riders, and I am glad it is not so. Though I didn’t get into the race through he lottery system, but rather had to earn my way in through the Leadman series, I was still deeply honored to be lining up at the start and become a part of the history of the event.
It was with more than a little trepidation that I had arrived in Leadville on the Friday morning before the race, as I wondered if I had inside of me what the race was going to require. Lots of folks asked me if I was nervous, and I told them no. God is brave for me, and I put my faith in God. So, that took my fear away, but that still leaves a lot up to me. For example, I have been on my bike enough now to know that I am not the best rider, and I seriously wondered if I would be able to manage all of the time cut-offs that were built into the event. Based upon my results at the Silver Rush 50 MTB event, I know I could probably do it, but just barely. Hopefully the course would not be as hard.
One of the first things my wife and I could not help but notice upon our arrival in Leadville was the size of the crowds. It was like all of the events we had been to so far, combined together, and then with some steroids thrown in for good measure; the crowds were huge. We got there with an hour to spare for registration, but the line seemed to stretch for many blocks up 6th Avenue, east from the gym. Fortunately the line was moving pretty fast, and the ranks of volunteers inside were taking care of business in a most efficient manner. Once I got inside I had to part company with my wife as only riders were allowed. A few minutes later I emerged from the back of the gym loaded with cool swag and reunited with her. Since we had a little while before the pre-race meeting, we headed over to a coffee shop to use the bathroom and get something to drink. There we ran into Mike Shafai and some of the other Colorado Springs Leadman participants. Mike told me that there was something like 35 of us left now, dwindling from the 45 that had first started out at the beginning of the series.
After hanging out for a few minutes, we headed back over to the gym. It was then we realized how the rest of the weekend would probably go, as in delayed, due to larger crowds than the organizers had handled before. I am glad we got in line early for the pre-race meeting because I don’t think everyone made it inside the gym. Once the meeting got started, there was not a lot of great substance that had to be shared about the race, but I could begin to tell just how great of a race that I was lucky to be a part of. Mostly the race director, Ken Chlouber, spent a lot of time telling us not to quit because of how hard it would be to come up with excuses to friends and loved ones as to why we hadn’t finished when it would be much easier to say, “Yes, I buckled.” as in having finished the race in under 12 hours and having earned the coveted silver buckle.
The newbies meeting held afterwards was much more productive in the sage words of advice dispensed upon us; things like what I started out this post with, concentrate on and worry about only the next 100 yards in front of you and let the rest of the course take care of itself. They also pointed out not to get too worked up over the start of the race, telling us to line up at the back of the crowd, letting the faster riders have some room to ride without us causing anymore of a safety hazard to them or ourselves than what was already there anyway. Another point that was driven home was to not go out too hard early because our race day was probably not going to made or broken on the first big hill, St. Kevens, anyway.
All of this was some great advice and contributed a lot to calming my nervousness. So, we filed out of the gym, and Lisa and I headed over to her favorite Italian restaurant to get a bite of a late lunch. Afterwards we went to scout out the crewing locations to see what Lisa and my son Jubal were going to have to deal with the next day. Originally we had planned on them crewing me together, moving from the Pipe Line to Twin Lakes and then back to Pipe Line again. However, at the newbies meeting it was pointed out that there would not be enough time for a crew to move from Pipe Line to Twin Lakes as that was the fastest and shortest part of the course for the riders; 14 miles of rolling terrain, which would be compounded with traffic congestion at the Twin Lakes dam. So, we decided to change up some plans and put Jubal at the Pipe Line and Lisa would manage the Twin Lakes aid station. We also looked at the alternative crew point that is located after Twin Lakes and just before the climb up to Columbine begins, but decided against using that spot due to its isolation and openness to weather.
Since Leadville was so crowded, the only place I could find a motel room was down in Buena Vista. So, hint to any future aspirants for the LT100 MTB, plan on booking a room like super early, where I can’t put an emphasis on early enough. Maybe consider booking a room and then canceling it if you don’t make it into the lottery.
After checking out all of the crew spots, we headed down to Buena Vista and met our son at the motel and went out to get some dinner,
Next morning the alarm clock went off early enough; I think I was out of bed at 4 AM, got dressed and made a little breakfast to eat on my way up to Leadville. I wanted to get there at 5 AM. Lisa and Jubal would get going later and try to make it up for the start of the race at 6:30 AM. I was able to park in the exact same spot as I did on Friday, which was a relief because then Lisa and Jubal would not have any trouble finding my vehicle. The next hour I spent putting my bike together and going over everything; oiling the chain, checking the tire and shock pressures, etc, making sure that I had all my fluid, fuel, and everything else I would need for the start of the race ready to go.
At 6:00 AM I wandered over to 6th Avenue and found a spot in the huge sea of riders, lining up just below the gym. This was about a block or so above and around the corner of the actual stat, but I didn’t belong down there anyway. Also it was a god spot to let Lisa know where I was because it was a reference point she was familiar with. Lisa and Jubal had no trouble finding me and got there at about 6:15 AM. It was super nice to get to see them before everything started.
I also noticed a cameraman filming my bike, which was laid over on the ground. He asked me if I knew the owner of the bike, which I assured him that I did. He explained that because I had a blue star on my race number that I had been selected as a rider for the film crew to pay particular attention to throughout the day for where they were making a new movie about the race that is supposed to be released in November of 2010. I was happy with this but somewhat puzzled too, wondering if it was a totally random event or had something to do with the Leadman.
The remaining minutes went by fast, too quickly, Lisa and Jubal and I only had a few moments to take some pictures with each other. Soon all of the riders were picking up their bikes and bunching together in anticipation of the shotgun blast. Boom! And we were off, though slowly at first because it took a minute for the mass of humanity to actually get moving. Maybe I should point out that I think there were around 1600 entries into the race as that is how high the bib numbers went. Mine was number 1317, and they were handed out based upon last name in alphabetical order, with my last name being Smith. There were a lot of riders.
Rounding the corner from Harrison and heading down hill onto the “boulevard”, I was happy to see large crowds lining the start, cheering us all on like crazy. For the first few miles we were on pavement, speeding downhill and getting colder and colder. I think the temperature at the start must have been in the upper 30’s, and it only got colder as we headed downhill to cross a river before heading on dirt roads over to the start of the climb up St. Kevens.
However, we didn’t stay cold for too long as the climb had us huffing and puffing up St. Kevens to reach the first aid station at Carter Summit. I was happy with the way I started out, not going to fast, but I stayed on my bike the entire way up St. Kevens and did not get off to walk any. Once on top of the first major climb, it is rolling terrain over to Carter Summit, where we got back on pavement and screamed downhill to the back of Turquoise Lake. I remember thinking about how I sped downhill for 3 miles and what that might feel like later in the day when I was coming back up, but then quickly reminded myself that was not currently in the 100 yards in front of my bike. At the bottom of the hill and at the back of the lake we passed a sign for May Queen campground, and another thought popped into my head about how I would be visiting that place soon enough too, about a week from now, during the 100 mile run.
Once we were at the bottom of the hill, we started heading back up the other side to reach the top of Sugar Loaf or what is known as the top of the Power Lines. After coming over the top of Sugar Loaf and beginning to descend the Power Lines, I came across what looked to be a pretty bad accident, as there were a number of riders stopped, holding the wounded rider while some others were motioning the rest of us to slow down as we came by. I gave a silent prayer of thanks to God for keeping me safe so far and also that the rider would be OK. At the bottom of the power lines, the trail gets pretty steep and technical, but I made it down OK. I rode through a small creek that everyone else was stopping to walk around, then I was back on the pavement and heading past the Fish Hatchery, another landmark of what I would be encountering a week from now.
On the way over to the Pipe Line, a small peloton started to form, and I quickly latched on the back of the group of riders, amazed at how much easier the effort was to gather some speed when there was a group effort involved.
Not long afterwards I reached the Pipe Line aid station and met up with my son Jubal. After a quick exchange of a hug, a new water bottle, and getting some more Power Gels, I was back riding once again. The roads and trails from the Pipe Line to Twin Lakes are rolling terrain that goes by pretty fast on the bike. It is only 14 miles long and is the fastest part of the course. There is a nice section of single track in this section too, the only single track on the entire course.
After the single track, it is all dirt roads, then a short section of pavement before the crowds at Twin Lakes are encountered. They start on the near side of the dam and build to a crescendo as you come off of the dam and into the aid station itself. I imagine it’s what the Tour D’France must feel like with the hundreds of people cheering you on, even if you aren’t the star of the show, just another rider out there trying really hard.
Lisa called out from the masses as I started to come out of the aid station on the far side of the dam. I stopped rather quickly, perhaps too quickly, because another rider got a little irritated with me for stopping so suddenly in the middle of the trail. But it was nice to see Lisa and get a new water bottle. I didn’t need many Power Gels from her, because I didn’t have time to eat a lot between Pipe Line and Twin Lakes. Glancing at my watch, I realized how much time had passed by; too much because it was 3 hours and 40 minutes into the race, where there was a 4 hour cut-off to reach Twin Lakes outbound.
I was a little shocked by how hard I had worked in order to get there, and I was only just a little bit ahead of the cut-off. I hadn’t stopped to dally or walked my bike at all, and I was only just barely still in the race. That’s when it started to really sink in just how hard it was going to be for me to complete it in less than 12 hours.
Leaving Twin Lakes, I came across another accident in the trail, and some ATV’s were hot on my tail in order to provide some help to the fallen rider. Not long after that I encountered the inevitable, the first rider heading back inbound, and he was flying. I learned later that the rider was Levi Leipheimer, on his way to setting a new course record in only his first mountain bike race ever!
So, I made my way over to the final crewing site, located at the start of the climb up to Columbine, and kept encountering a few more riders heading back inbound. Once past the crew spot, I started up the climb, and settled into my little ring and the big gears in back, hunkering down for the long climb ahead. Columbine lasts for a long time, on dirt roads at first, and even though they are steep, I managed to stay on the bike the whole way. The whole way that is until the jeep trail starts for the final 2 miles up to the aid station located at the top. At that point most everyone is off the bike to hike, and then back on where they can, only to be walking again shortly later, repeating this same process over and over until the top. Once I saw a rider coming back down lose control and go head first over his handlebars to roll around in the rocks. I am pretty sure he was OK, but was still quite a surprise to the other riders that were hot on his tail. Also on the way up, I passed some guys passing out hotdogs and PBR’s, which I thought was pretty awesome, though I passed on the opportunity when they offered me some.
At the top of Columbine, I gobbled a couple of PBJ sandwiches, refilled my water bottle, and stopped to use the bathroom. It was the first time I had really stopped all day. Then I was back on the bike, looking down in amazement at all the elevation we had gained coming up. After a short climb back up out of the aid station, the descent begins in earnest.
Down, down, down, and down; the descent lasts for a long time. The crew spot at the beginning of the climb flew by, and then suddenly I was back in Twin Lakes and getting another water bottle from my wife Lisa. I had made up a lot of time and was in good shape, I thought, for getting back to Leadville. So, I was 3 hours 40 minutes getting to Twin Lakes and then got back to Twin Lakes from Columbine at 6 hours; now 2 ½ hours ahead of the cut-off. I thought I was doing awesome.
However, leaving Twin Lakes and heading back uphill towards Pipe Line, I was beginning to feel every one of the climbs I had already done that day. I kept glancing at my GPS and calculating my average speed along with some projections of how long it was going to take to finish the race. My GPS was showing 8.9 mph and occasionally I could get it up to 9 or 9.1 depending on how fast I was going on the rolling terrain. Thinking ahead to the big hills I had in front of me, I knew it was going to be close. Well, I told myself, stop thinking about it; focus on the 100 yards ahead of you!
At Pipe Line, I met Jubal. Exchanging a water bottle with him, we acknowledged each other with the fact that the next we would meet would be at the finish line. I yelled out a goodbye and a “Love you” and was off again. I knew that the Power Lines were now coming within my next 100 yards, and I would have to deal with them.
The Power Lines are a special place inbound to Leadville. By that time of day, quite a crowd has gathered to watch and cheer the riders on. Also, what seemed like a fast descent to Fish Hatchery that morning becomes a monster of a hill in the hot afternoon sun. They seem to go on forever. The steepest stuff lies at the bottom of the hill along with all the crowds. If you happen to try and gut out part of the hill and ride it, most likely someone from the crowd will try and help push you up as well. That’s pretty awesome. The reality of it was that I, along with all the riders around me, was in for a lot of hike-a-bike. Some of the bystanders informed us how “Even Dave Wiens had to push his 26 up the hill. Go 29!”
Soon the crowds dwindle, but the hill keeps teasing the rider with thoughts of have we reached the summit yet? But no, around the next corner lies another section of steep hill, then you can get back on you bike again. However that won’t last for too long because we are going to repeat the whole process over again. I think there are at least 4 false summits, but I lost count.
Also, it was hot and I didn’t want to eat anything until reaching the top. So, I mostly relied on a liquid diet on the way up, which left me utterly sapped of strength. Finally, after an eternity, I could feel the terrain changing again, heading down, and I stopped just long enough to open the wrapper of a Power Bar. I would try to eat it on the descent down Hagerman Pass Road on the way to Turquoise Lake. It’s amazing how difficult it can be to eat something that requires a lot of chewing while trying to negotiate a fast and technical descent, all while still being a little dehydrated and hot. It just doesn’t swallow as easily as one would like. Eventually I got it down and also reached the bottom of the hill.
Next 100 yards in front of the tire, well actually 2.5 miles, is the climb back up to the Carter Summit aid station and then over to St. Kevens. This is where the really deep digging starts. A few riders got off their bikes here to walk up the hill. I wonder if they made it back in time. I stuck with it; little ring in front and big gears in back, determined to make it up the hill no matter how badly I was aching. Finally, after 30 minutes of effort I made it to the top. From the aid station there are still 2 small climbs that forced me off the bike before I was speeding back down St. Kevens, but they were over pretty fast. I tried to let out all the stops on my way down. At the bottom, as I was heading back into Leadville, I looked at my GPS and told myself I had only a short way to go now. It was reading almost 99 miles, and I had plenty of time to spare.
Right about then I passed a race official who was controlling traffic, and the shouted out “You’re doing awesome. Only 4 miles left to go!” If you can imagine the sound of a needle being dragged across a record, then you know exactly what went through my mind just then. I thought this was a race called the LT100… what gives? Well, it didn’t matter because there was still some work to be done. Focus on the next 100 yards.
Turning off the paved road, I followed another rider through a section of narrow trail along the very bottom of Leadville before we turned uphill on a dirt road. I don’t know if this hill is part of the Leadville “Boulevard” or not, but even though I hiked a short section at the very bottom, and slowly ground my way up the rest of the road using my little ring again, I savored the moment. I was thanking God for being with me so far, and helping me get to the point I so badly wanted to be, within striking distance of the finish with just barely enough time left to make it. At the start of the race that morning, I remembered speaking with another rider who told me that 11:59:59 would be an OK time for him, and now I was in total agreement.
At the top of the dirt road, we turned back onto the pavement to go along side of the high school. Another race official shouted out more words of encouragement, “Only 1 mile left to go!” I wanted to ask him why they kept adding miles to the course. Hadn’t we done enough already?
Finally I turned onto W. 6th Avenue and had the finish line in sight. I was too zapped to muster a lot of emotion, just relief that it was all over, and I had a few minutes to spare on the clock; 11 hours 45 minutes, and 48 seconds. I was still in the Leadman.
After my timing chip was removed and a medal hung around my neck, I slowly made my way over to Harrison Ave and reunited with my wife and son. We took a few pictures at the finish line, but I didn’t really have the strength left in me to hang out for any festivities. I passed on the beer and food that Lisa told me was in a tent just a few yards away, and opted to head back to our vehicle instead.
At the vehicle, Jubal was awesome and helped take the bike apart and stow it for the ride back to Buena Vista. Lisa’s brother Mike, who is an Ironman and a category II mountain bike racer, as well as a tireless source of encouragement and enthusiasm called to congratulate me, but I was too tired to talk much. I just wanted to ride.
On the ride from Leadville back through Twin Lakes I thought with some satisfaction of how I had now ridden through everything we were now driving past. In the back of my mind I was also thinking about how I was going to have to run it too, in only a few short days.
So, I was lucky a lot today. I stayed on my bike and did not crash. I had a great crew who helped me get through a day that would have been longer without them. Most importantly I buckled.
I could have done better. Maybe I could have found some more time to train and finished in a faster time. Maybe I will gain some more experience that will help me finish in a faster time; next year. Next year? That must mean I am coming back, huh?

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