2015 Leadville 100 Race Report, Part 6: New Objective

08.26.2015 | 12:07 pm

A “Quick Links to Previous Installments” Note from Fatty: Here’s where you’ll find the parts to this story:

• Part 1: Pre-Race Jitters
• Part 2: Starting Line Surprise
• Part 3: Return of the Son of Joyful Warrior
• Part 4: Conflict and Questions
• Part 5: Perception and Reality
• Part 6: New Objective
• Part 7: To the Finish Line and Beyond

There was a moment, during the three mile section between the bottom of the Columbine Mine descent and the Twin Lakes Aid Station, when I thought I had gotten off course and had become lost.

Not because I had made a turn that was questionable and was now second-guessing myself. Not because the trail looked unfamiliar.

It’s just that, somehow, in this race with more than 1600 racers in it, I was completely and entirely alone. I looked ahead. As far as I could see: nobody. I looked behind. Still nobody.

“Could it be that I am lost?” I asked myself.

“No. Ridiculous,” I replied.

“OK, then where is everyone?” I mused.

I came up with a theory: that I was currently in a very weird place for a Leadville cyclist to be. I had gone fast enough on the climbs that I had separated myself from anyone who is not an exceptional climber.

And then I had gone slow enough that I had been left behind by all the good climbers who are also good descenders.

Leaving me. 

Alone.

“I need to take a skills camp or something,” I concluded.

“Yeah, you do,” I agreed.

Publicly-Stated Objective

I rode through the Twin Lakes aid station 4:40 into the race — about fifteen minutes slower than what I had noted on the poster Jeff D had created for our crews to track our projected times vs our actual times:

Note that the time written down by the crew, “11:15am,” is at odds with the Twin Lakes timing mat, which has me coming across at 11:10am (4:40 into the race). This is because our crew was stationed a few minutes further down the trail from the timing mat. And also, I’m pretty sure they rounded up. And in short, I’m going with the timing mat’s time.

This was, sadly, still about fifteen minutes slower than my projected time if I wanted to finish in under eight hours.

I had several things, however, that kept me from falling into despair:

First, my projected splits gave me a ten-minute cushion. They were, essentially, splits for a 7:50 finish. So while I was fifteen minutes in arrears for a 7:50 finish, I was only six minutes in arrears for a 7:59 finish. Six minutes can be recovered over forty miles.

Second, it’s not like getting to the sixty mile mark in 4:40 is bad. Most years I’ve done this race, I’d still be working on getting to the Columbine Mine summit at this point, not back down and getting ready for the flattish runup to the Powerline.

Third, I had a backup time objective for this race. One that had come to me very recently. One I had instantly recognized as one I liked.

And one I had — impulsively — gone rather public with.

Here’s the story.

The Thursday before the race, Rebecca Rusch and I had gotten on stage at the historic Tabor Opera House to give our ten best tips, read from our respective books, and talk about our first Leadville 100 race.

As homework, I went back to Reba’s book, Rusch to Glory (which I highly recommend, by the way), and read about her first win in the Leadville 100. And there, on page 196, was this:

Hm. Her first winning finish time in the Leadville 100 was 8:14. “Interesting,” was all I thought at the time.

And then, onstage, I introduced Reba as four-time Women’s Champion in the Leadville 100. She introduced me as a “not-so-fast guy.”

Which raised my hackles. Just a little bit.

Then, when I mentioned I am a one-time singlespeed champion (which I am pretty proud of), Reba countered with, “Yeah, but how many people were in your race category?” 

“There was a full podium, and I was on top of it,” is how I replied, because honestly, I didn’t know the answer. I just looked it up, though, and the answer is 34. Coincidentally, the number of finishing women in the 40-49 age group in 2009 — which is the category Reba raced and won — was also 34.  

Hackles: now at 100%.

I decided, at that moment, that I had a new race objective, which I announced when Reba asked what I hoped to accomplish during the race this year.

“This year, I’m going to finish with a time that’s faster than what you won with the first time you raced the LT100,” I said.

“How fast was that?” Reba asked.

“Come hell or high water, I’m going to finish faster than 8:14,” I said. 

“Hm,” Reba said. “Good luck with that.”

And — returning back to the present — I was on track for that (impulsive and hotheadedly-stated) goal. I was still on track to beat the 2009 version of Reba.

That said, I had only done the “easy” sixtyish miles of the race. I still had the hard part ahead of me.

Quick Stop

I don’t think I can overemphasize how incredible my crew was. As I pulled into the Twin Lakes aid station, Scott and Kara quickly swapped out my empty GU packets for new ones. They swapped out my empty bottles for a full one. They handed me four GU Roctane Electrolyte Capsules to swallow, to continue keeping cramps at bay. 

This left me free to notice some strange and awesome things. 

First, my friend Brad Keyes was there. In fact, he was giving me a quick neck rub. And while I’m not a fan of neck rubs in general, if I’m going to get a neck rub from a guy, I want it to be Brad.

“I’ll see you again on the Powerline,” Brad said. “I’ll have Coke and Skittles for you.”

“Uh, OK?” I replied. Coke sounded great, but there was no human way I’d be able to chew skittles while mouth-breathing my way up the Powerline.

Next, I noticed my nephew Dallas and my niece Jessica (and her whole family) were all there. Since I thought Dallas lived in Hawaii, I was especially surprised to see him, and even said, “What’s up, Dallas?”

“Just chilling,” Dallas replied.

Strangely, I did not notice Friend of Fatty Frank W, even though he is roughly twice my height and assures me he was standing right by me. I only became aware Frank was there when he let me know, afterward, on Facebook. Indeed I still cannot recall him being nearby. 

Race brain is a strange thing.

I noticed (and failed to notice) all of this in the ten or fifteen seconds I was there, and then I was gone again. 

So Very Alone

As soon as I was back on the course, I noticed that hardly anything had changed. Somehow, I was still — in this sea of racers — all by myself.

Which meant that I was going to have to deal with a pretty serious headwind — I think I’ve had a headwind on the Twin Lakes to Pipeline section sixteen of the eighteen times I’ve done this race — alone.

But first, there was the quick uphill pavement I needed to contend with. Which I did by pedaling.

And second, I needed to contend with one suddenly obvious problem. Namely, that it was 11:15 in the morning, the day had warmed up, and I was still wearing my arm warmers.

Luckily, that problem was easily solved, when a spectator on the side of the road hollered my name. I smiled, veered over as I stripped off my arm warmers, and tossed them to her.

“Here, free armwarmers for you,” I said, giving this poor woman what was most likely the most stinkified gift she had ever received. 

And then, unburdened, I continued up the road. Alone.

Oh, so very alone.

I was really trying to find someone to work with, but I never was able to find a group. I just couldn’t. There was one short train of two or three people, up in the distance, for most of this section, but I just…couldn’t…quite…bridge.

Even so, I got to the Pipeline aid station 5:39 into the race — my second fastest time for this segment of the race:

At this point, I was about ten minutes ahead of my previous best, back in 2011, when I finished with a time of 8:18. 

But that year I had been a lot lighter. And there were three biggish climbs ahead of me in this final 28 miles.

My “Beat Reba’s 2009 Win” goal was looking good. My “Sub 8” goal…maybe wasn’t looking quite as good, but still not impossible. 

But neither goal was a sure thing.