My Race Across the Sky (Leadville 100 MTB Race) - Part II - Fight Till You Die (or close to it)
As I move up Columbine one pedal stroke after the other, all I can think of as I grasp for air is "how the hell did they carry all this mining equipment up so high back then", I guess the prospect of gold or silver can make us all do crazy things ...
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| Welcome to Leadville - Who's Ready to Roll? |
This is the 3rd and last installment of my Leadville 2016 adventure. To read the previous 2 posts - click here for the first and here for the second.
The Start Line
At 5:30 am the line of corrals (which is about a mile long) is already packed with races. I head slowly to my assigned corral, the Blue corral. It is the second to last corral and the only reason I was lucky enough not to be in the last corral was due to me being a member of Team World Bicycle Relief. The White corral is last corral and this is where those unlucky races who do not have qualifying times from previous races are staged. Why unlucky you'll see shortly.It is extremely cold, barely 32F (0C) when the sun finally comes up. In fact this is one of the coldest starts in years. I try to snuggle in my sweatshirt, grateful that I actually chose to bring it with me. My lips have been purple since I got out of the car and I am trying to control my shivers. Looking at the sky and waiting for a ray of sun. But it's not there. I keep telling to myself, you'll get warm soon enough, as soon as you reach the first climb. Well at least this what everybody is saying.
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| Trying unsuccessfully not to freeze |
At 6:25am, my stomach is still turning, I am so nervous. More than I recall ever being in any of my past races. I take off my sweatshirt and hand it over to my Support Crew (which is basically Michelle and Summer, my dog, but sounds more "Pro").
The barriers are down and we start moving forward slowly. Riders from the White corral start to push around trying to get a better position before the gun goes off. As if it matters much when you are so far behind, I think to myself.
And here it goes - Gun Time
The Race
First let's start with a short course overview:
In a nutshell, the Leadville 100 MTB Trail Race is 104 miles with about over 12,000 feet of climbing. it's an out and back course that start and end in Leadville, Colorado (just over 10,000 feet). The course is mostly comprised of jeep roads, gravel roads, some paved sections, one single track section and a few hike-a-bike sections because you just cannot do without those in a real race :-)
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| It's alive - Course profile |
It is easiest to divide the course to 5 segments keyed off the 3 main aid stations (Pipeline, Twin Lake and Top of Columbine) and the 3 main climbs: St. Kevin's (pronounced Key-ven) Sugarloaf/Powerline and Columbine.
Gun time
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| Entering St. Kevin's (PS - photo taken a few days before. I did not stop to smell the flowers or take pictures) |
The Start
The gun (yes, it's a real long barrel gun) goes off and the commotion starts. Like a herd of 1000s raging bulls we all make our way down 6th St in a semi organized stampede. Enjoying the fast descend and making our way towards the first climb of the day. Well, I think I got carried away with the word "enjoy". Yes it was fast, but OMG it was cold and not enjoyable at all. I was shaking and shivering like a lose leaf. Turning more purple by the second until I think it clashed with my outfit. With my eyes watering from the cold wind I was doing my best to avoid the commotion. Not a great way to start.
The descent of course does not help my Popsicle state, and now I am in worse shape. Is there such thing as double Popsicle? I try to eat or drink again, but I can't. I am so cold. Focusing on just trying to just stay on the bike and keep going.
Sugarloaf
OK, good we are climbing again. I just can't believe I am even thinking this. The climb is less crowded now as my snail pace has put me in the back of the back but still quite busy. I am able to chose better lines and even better, starting to feel the tips of my fingers. I rejoice at the slight tingling sensation. Oh good this would come in handy on the approaching descent. I was hoping for a complete thaw, but no such luck. I think my color also changed to a slightly lighter shade of purple.
I try to make myself eat again but still I can barely drink and my stomach is still not cooperating with any solid food. Not the best news being over 2.5 hours into my race, but gotta keep pushing.
the clock is ticking fast.
At the bottom, when I get on the paved section, I do a quick check. I'm still in one piece, that was sketchy. My feet are still attached - I had to check as I cannot feel them. Eat, drink? nope, still no go. I manage a few sips and maybe half a bar.
As I hit Pipeline aid station I take a look at my Garmin. Almost 3 hours have past. I am moving slower than I planned and I have 1 hour to hit Twin Lake if I want to make the cut-off. Time to put my head down and push it.
On the last descent before twin Lake I see the escort motorcycle on the way back and then like I'm completely standing still the lead 3 riders swoosh by me. I look at my Garmin again. I must hurry up.
I finally make it to Twin Lake aid station with 5 min to spare. I spot Michelle (and Summer, wiggling hard), do a quick backpack swap. Michelle is opening my bento box to refile and I say, "no need it's full". I try to ignore the look on her face saying "oh shit, this is not good". I say goodbye see you in a few hours and hit the road again.
The next 20 miles are basically 10 miles up and then down. Columbine is the longest climb of the race and the highest point on the course (12,570 feet/3,800 meters). It's a long climb and as I move up one pedal stroke after the other, all I can think of as I grasp for air is "how the hell did they carry all this mining equipment up so high", I guess the prospect of gold or silver can make us all do crazy things ...
The last 1.5 miles of Columbine are almost all hike-a-bike. Very frustrating slow 1.5 miles. I just really really don't like hike-a-bike (yet I find myself signing up for races with sections like that - hmmm). The good news was that by then I finally regained full feeling in my hands and feet. The bad news - I am going at a much slower pace that I was expecting. It is going to be a close one for sure. I try to use the walking to get some food and fluids in me but I still couldn't get in anything meaningful. Seeing Ken Chlouber (the race founder) at that spot and hearing him say "Dig Deep" you're almost at the top pushed me to move on and pick up the pace slightly.
After I almost touched the heaven at the top, I was so stressed about making the cutoff at Twin Lake that I didn't even take the time to look at the magnificent view at the top (I only know it's magnificent from the post race photos). So don't be like me and take a moment to take it all in.
As I was heading down the mountain, all I could think of was am I going to make it in time.
Aid station logistics - The race is fully supported, however many riders (myself included) prefer to have their own support crews on the course for quicker in and out of the aid stations. The support crews and other spectators are what makes the aid stations a big party and a huge cheer leading section, which is great and I loved it. However, what can be a fun big party on the one hand can also make it very hard to find your support crew on the other. That is of course if you are like me and don't have a big support tent. So my advice to you is to know exactly where to meet your crew. Coordinate the meeting place before and make sure both you and your crew stick to it. The jumping up and down wiggling Weim was my cue.
The fun and flowing single-track, on the way back turns out to be steep with very "welcoming" headwind. Shortly after that we are all greeted by a short but steep hill that is justifiably nicknamed "little stinker", that stinker with its 25% grade and loose gravel just broke me. I could see the top but was struggling to push my bike up there. I finally managed to do so thanks to the help of 2 guys that were standing at the top and helping us go up. I don't know who you were - but THANK YOU!
I get back on my bike and push forward. Slow, too slow, I know ...
I try to pretend I don't see her (it's kinda hard not to as she is right there in the middle). I try to speed up but she signals me to stop. So I do. I hear her tell me, I'm sorry you missed the cutoff, please let me take the wristband off (she was nicer than this but this all I could hear and process). I'm Israeli and its my first instinct to argue. So I start to do so. "It's only 5 min" I say. "Please, I can finish within the 13 hours". For the record, I am still convinced I could have. But then I stop myself. As She is taking my wristband off, my eyes start to tear up. This is when I realize that my tears are not only tears of disappointment but also tears of relief. I was going on nothing in the tank for a long time, there was no coming back from such a deficit in such a long race. I myself was questioning this in my head "how I will make it up Powerline" just a few miles back.
Sadly, I make my way to the car. That's it, my day came to an end at mile 75. Today, I will not get to ride the red carpet and see the finish line.
PS - in case you are wondering what was the issue with the water. It turns out Michelle couldn't find fresh water to refill the bladder and since the old one was almost full (wow, I really didn't drink much), she just though it would be OK and gave me the backpack back as is. Note to self for next time - remember to have fresh water to refill.
St. Kevin's
I was still trying to wipe the tears from my eyes when we I got to almost a complete stop. Yes, it was time for the famous bottle neck of St. Kevin's. I guess this is where the real race starts. For the leading group, I mean the real race, but for us in the back of the pack it's a different kind of race: It's the race for the line, and by line I do not mean the finish line. What I mean is maintaining your line among the hundreds that are trying to pass you from every possible side. I manage to maintain somewhat of a line, not an ideal one, but when you are slow and frozen you take what you have. I was happy with only being forced to put my foot down once. I hear the guys next to me sigh in relief and say "finally I feel my fingers". I am jealous. I am still the color of grape Popsicle and have completely lost feeling in my toes and fingers. Then I think. Oops, it could be quite challenging when I finally hit the top and try to descend.The descent of course does not help my Popsicle state, and now I am in worse shape. Is there such thing as double Popsicle? I try to eat or drink again, but I can't. I am so cold. Focusing on just trying to just stay on the bike and keep going.
Sugarloaf
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| Bottom of powerline (photo curretcy of Jered Gruber and WBR). |
I try to make myself eat again but still I can barely drink and my stomach is still not cooperating with any solid food. Not the best news being over 2.5 hours into my race, but gotta keep pushing.
the clock is ticking fast.
Powerline (decent)
This is the time for me to try and catch up on the missed time from my snail pace climbing. Powerline is about 3.5 miles long and is the most technical part of the course (in my opinion). I wish my fingers would return to full function, but even 50% capacity will work at this point. I manage to keep an aggressive line and pass a few guys on the way down. Not to worry guys, you all will pass me on the next climb. So just let me enjoy the only thing that I have. I even manage a smile between my chattering teeth.
At the bottom, when I get on the paved section, I do a quick check. I'm still in one piece, that was sketchy. My feet are still attached - I had to check as I cannot feel them. Eat, drink? nope, still no go. I manage a few sips and maybe half a bar.As I hit Pipeline aid station I take a look at my Garmin. Almost 3 hours have past. I am moving slower than I planned and I have 1 hour to hit Twin Lake if I want to make the cut-off. Time to put my head down and push it.
The rolling section between Pipeline to Twin Lake
As planned I skipped the first aid station and onto the next section of the course. On the menu is 15 miles of rolling hills, mix of gravel, pavement and one short and flowing single track. It is a fast section and here a big group or a good paceline would be an advantage. I am looking around, but there are none. I try several times to jump on someone's wheel for some draft but cannot stay on for long. So it's solo again, just me, my head and the surrounding mountains.
On the last descent before twin Lake I see the escort motorcycle on the way back and then like I'm completely standing still the lead 3 riders swoosh by me. I look at my Garmin again. I must hurry up.
I finally make it to Twin Lake aid station with 5 min to spare. I spot Michelle (and Summer, wiggling hard), do a quick backpack swap. Michelle is opening my bento box to refile and I say, "no need it's full". I try to ignore the look on her face saying "oh shit, this is not good". I say goodbye see you in a few hours and hit the road again.
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| Hike-a-bike training |
Columbine (up and down)
The next 20 miles are basically 10 miles up and then down. Columbine is the longest climb of the race and the highest point on the course (12,570 feet/3,800 meters). It's a long climb and as I move up one pedal stroke after the other, all I can think of as I grasp for air is "how the hell did they carry all this mining equipment up so high", I guess the prospect of gold or silver can make us all do crazy things ... The last 1.5 miles of Columbine are almost all hike-a-bike. Very frustrating slow 1.5 miles. I just really really don't like hike-a-bike (yet I find myself signing up for races with sections like that - hmmm). The good news was that by then I finally regained full feeling in my hands and feet. The bad news - I am going at a much slower pace that I was expecting. It is going to be a close one for sure. I try to use the walking to get some food and fluids in me but I still couldn't get in anything meaningful. Seeing Ken Chlouber (the race founder) at that spot and hearing him say "Dig Deep" you're almost at the top pushed me to move on and pick up the pace slightly.
After I almost touched the heaven at the top, I was so stressed about making the cutoff at Twin Lake that I didn't even take the time to look at the magnificent view at the top (I only know it's magnificent from the post race photos). So don't be like me and take a moment to take it all in.
As I was heading down the mountain, all I could think of was am I going to make it in time.
Twin Lake aid station and a few words on nutrition and logistics
Rolling into Twin Lake station, I yell to Michelle to meet me after the cut-off mat. Phew, I made it with about 2 min to spare. Again we do a quick exchange of bags, and I struggle to push off. I ask her to meet me at Pipeline instead of the finish line as I may need more supplies. In the last mile I was finally starting to get warmer and was able to take more food and water. I also finally said goodbye to my arm warmers and vest. It "only" took me 60 miles and 3 major climbs to warm up. WOW. That's a record.
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| Twin Lake aid station |
I must digress here from the story and add a little note on my nutrition plan and logistics as those were a crucial part of my race.
Nutrition - in a race this long nutrition is key. I find it hard to eat food (bars/gels) while mountain biking, as it requires taking the hand off the handlebars. My plan was simple. Mix Infinit into my hydration pack. However, I knew I could not rely solely on drinking my nutrition, as I find that drinking so much makes me sick and I just cannot do it. I also find that the taste of mixing more powder to make each sip be more calorie condensed is just disgusting (to me!) . My solution was a mix of the 2. Bars or gels and Infinit in combination to give me approximately 300 calories an hour, but ideally more. I discovered that at high altitude I need to eat more so my goal was more like 350 calories. I practiced this in training and preparation races and it was working.
Well that was the plan and it worked before but today it was just a complete fail. I couldn't eat or drink and I was struggling with forcing myself to do so. I believe it was a combination of the cold weather (that happened to me once before - read about here) and the altitude. More on that to come.
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| Big party |
Aid station logistics - The race is fully supported, however many riders (myself included) prefer to have their own support crews on the course for quicker in and out of the aid stations. The support crews and other spectators are what makes the aid stations a big party and a huge cheer leading section, which is great and I loved it. However, what can be a fun big party on the one hand can also make it very hard to find your support crew on the other. That is of course if you are like me and don't have a big support tent. So my advice to you is to know exactly where to meet your crew. Coordinate the meeting place before and make sure both you and your crew stick to it. The jumping up and down wiggling Weim was my cue.
Back to the story ...
The rolling section between Twin Lake to Pipeline
That same rolling 15 mile section that was fast on the way out, turned out to be not so fast on the way back. Fatigue mixed with headwind were to blame. At that point, I finally felt like I can drink and eat, and took a big sip of my freshly supplied hydration pack, just to spit it right out. Wow, that was disgusting. I am so surprised. Michelle was supposed to refill the bladder with fresh mix of water and infinit. Not sure what happened there but I'm stuck with that "thing" for the next 15 miles. Too bad as I am finally thirsty and I just made myself drink despite the bad taste.The fun and flowing single-track, on the way back turns out to be steep with very "welcoming" headwind. Shortly after that we are all greeted by a short but steep hill that is justifiably nicknamed "little stinker", that stinker with its 25% grade and loose gravel just broke me. I could see the top but was struggling to push my bike up there. I finally managed to do so thanks to the help of 2 guys that were standing at the top and helping us go up. I don't know who you were - but THANK YOU!
I get back on my bike and push forward. Slow, too slow, I know ...
The end of the road for me
When I finally get to Pipeline aid station, I see her, right under the time mat banner. Who is her? The one lady you do not want to see on the course. Because if you do, you know your day is over. I didn't come up with that one, this is how she was introduced at the course beefing the day before.I try to pretend I don't see her (it's kinda hard not to as she is right there in the middle). I try to speed up but she signals me to stop. So I do. I hear her tell me, I'm sorry you missed the cutoff, please let me take the wristband off (she was nicer than this but this all I could hear and process). I'm Israeli and its my first instinct to argue. So I start to do so. "It's only 5 min" I say. "Please, I can finish within the 13 hours". For the record, I am still convinced I could have. But then I stop myself. As She is taking my wristband off, my eyes start to tear up. This is when I realize that my tears are not only tears of disappointment but also tears of relief. I was going on nothing in the tank for a long time, there was no coming back from such a deficit in such a long race. I myself was questioning this in my head "how I will make it up Powerline" just a few miles back.
Sadly, I make my way to the car. That's it, my day came to an end at mile 75. Today, I will not get to ride the red carpet and see the finish line.
PS - in case you are wondering what was the issue with the water. It turns out Michelle couldn't find fresh water to refill the bladder and since the old one was almost full (wow, I really didn't drink much), she just though it would be OK and gave me the backpack back as is. Note to self for next time - remember to have fresh water to refill.
The Day After
On Sunday morning, I wake up with no alarm clock. That same feeling of deep disappointment is still hanging there and I was trying to process what happened the day before. Michelle, who signed up for the 10k trail run that day, suggested that we will not go. So I wont have to face Leadville today. While I appreciated the gesture, that was not an option for me. She was there to support me and now it's her time. No point is sitting in our condo crying all over it, and I am also supposed to start Breck Epic in 2 days so I need to get this behind me.
While Summer and I waited for Michelle to finish her run, I see Ken and Merilee standing by the finish line. Yes, the same finish line I did not get to cross the day before. I walked to Ken and thanked him for the words of encouragement he gave me on Columbine. He asks me how I did I do? and half choking I say "I didn't finish". After a few words of encouragements and examples of many other and better riders who tried and did not finish, he makes me promise to come back again next year and give it another try. Well I must be a masochist as I hear myself promise.
Every athlete has a day like this. A day that no matter how much you try, the circumstances just don't go in your favor. Leadville 100 was my day, or more like NOT my day. I was not able to recover from the very cold start and not properly eating or drinking. By the time I was able to, I was too far gone.
With an ironman mentality I kept pushing forward but slower than I was planning. The goal has changed from sub 12 hours and the buckle to just making the cutoffs and finishing. I was moving forward one cutoff at a time. Until I didn't. Make the cutoff that is. Prior to Leadville, I was never too worried about cutoff times as I am usually well ahead of them. Not in Leadville, not that day. Hearing Ken Chlouber yell to me his famous "dig deep", "you can do this" on Columbine, I wanted to believe him and I kept going. But sadly my day came to an end 29 miles too short.
What an experance this has been.
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| With Ken and Merilee (and Summer of course) |
Every athlete has a day like this. A day that no matter how much you try, the circumstances just don't go in your favor. Leadville 100 was my day, or more like NOT my day. I was not able to recover from the very cold start and not properly eating or drinking. By the time I was able to, I was too far gone.
With an ironman mentality I kept pushing forward but slower than I was planning. The goal has changed from sub 12 hours and the buckle to just making the cutoffs and finishing. I was moving forward one cutoff at a time. Until I didn't. Make the cutoff that is. Prior to Leadville, I was never too worried about cutoff times as I am usually well ahead of them. Not in Leadville, not that day. Hearing Ken Chlouber yell to me his famous "dig deep", "you can do this" on Columbine, I wanted to believe him and I kept going. But sadly my day came to an end 29 miles too short.
Thanks
Despite the disappointment of not finishing the race, and that my belt will have to wait one more year for it's buckle, I am extremely proud of the reason I was there. Fundraising for world bicycle relief was an honor. I am proud to have been a part of the WBR team and am grateful to all my WBR team members. Together we have raised over $78k (about 535 bikes) to make the lives of 535 school girls in rural Africa better.
Katie and Claire - I am still grateful to you for convincing me to join and honored for the opportunity you gave me.
Katie and Claire - I am still grateful to you for convincing me to join and honored for the opportunity you gave me.
Team Betty ladies, thank you for the inspiration.
To all my friends and coworkers thanks you for your donations and believing in me.
Special thanks to my coach Sarah Kaufmann who took a triathlete and turned her into a mountain biker. Can't wait for step 2 - BCBR :-)
Last but not least, special thanks to Michelle for the endless support, encouragement and believing in me, probably more than I believe in myself.
I refuse to thank my puppy as she cannot read, but I am grateful for her too,
Special thanks to my coach Sarah Kaufmann who took a triathlete and turned her into a mountain biker. Can't wait for step 2 - BCBR :-)
Last but not least, special thanks to Michelle for the endless support, encouragement and believing in me, probably more than I believe in myself.
I refuse to thank my puppy as she cannot read, but I am grateful for her too,
What an experance this has been.
You either win or learn - I learned
PS - Not only because I promised Ken Chlouber but also because I feel this is an unfinished story. I did sign up for the Leadville lottery and I hope to get a chance next year to come back. This time with a better plan and a less racer approach (maybe wear another layer or something). I will have to see.Like always, thanks for reading
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