Leadville 2010. Maybe the third time could be the charm.

Hey folks.

Back in February of this year, I was fortunate, or unfortunate, to get my third straight entry into the Leadville 100 Mile Mountain Bike Race slated for August 14, 2010, which I had applied for in January. The race starts in the old mining town of Leadville, Colorado, which sits at 10, 200 feet in elevation. The race goes out about 50 miles up to the closed Columbine Mine at 12,600 feet and then back on the same basic route to Leadville. There is a 13 hour time limit to finish the race and if you finish under 12 hours, you get a big gawdy belt buckle. The ride has about 12,000 of feet of climbing between 9,200 feet and 12,600 feet and ends up being about 103 miles. 10,000 plus people apply for the 1,500 spots, via some sort of un-published lottery process that nobody can explain. Several thousand spectators line different sections of the course, the start, Powerline, Pipeline, Twin Lakes and the finish line. They cheer, heckle (mainly on the lung burning climbs), scream, yell and cowbell as riders go by.

As most know, I am no racer. I ride because it clears my mind and I prefer to ride alone. I show up to a couple endurance rides a year and usually finish, way back, and that is usually the extent of my glory. In 2008, I missed a turn at Leadville and ended up with 68 miles at the 60 mile check point. I was about 10 minutes late at the 8 hour cutoff. End of ride. Last year, I got to the 74 mile check point 3 minutes past the 9 hour cutoff. End of ride.

This year, I racked up about 3,000 miles or so, mainly on my road bike, before the race. My weight this attempt, was about 170, or a little less, which is about 10 pounds lighter than two years ago and about 5 pounds lighter than last year.

In the middle of July, I went up to Leadville, by myself, for 5 days of riding. The trip was more of a vacation for me than a "training" trip. I did ride most of the course and racked up about 22 hours, 240 miles and 20k plus feet of climbing on my mountain bike. I met and rode with some good people on a ride that leaves the bike shop in Leadville at 9:00 am most mornings. I even lead a couple of the rides for some first time race attempters that wanted to see the course.

After my last two attempts, I decided to go with about 250 liquid calories a hour in the form of PowerBar Endurance powder for this try. The two previous years, I learned that I do not do well with any type of solid foods or gels when I am working really hard, at altitude and on the bike for extended hours. My Camelbak, which I dislike along with any other hydration pack, and two bottles will give me enough calories for about 5 hours before I have to refill/refuel.

My mom and I go up a few days before the race and stay in Salida, Colorado, which is about 60 miles south of Leadville. Salida is a neat town. She has went up with me on all three of my attempts at this.

Come race day, I arrive at the start line in Leadville about 5:45 am, 45 minutes before the start, and place my bike in the staging area, which is already packed with bikes, minus most of the riders. The race starts right in the middle of downtown Leadville. One of the main intersections in town is blocked to car traffic and riders line up from this point. Riders are suppose to stage according to their guesstimated finishing times. The top 100 finishers from last year's race, and celeb entrants, have a reserved area at the front. I usually stage in the 11-12 hour finishing grid. Many of the riders over estimate their abilities by several hours or more, including me, I guess.

I go back to my car, which is parked several blocks away, to get out of the 36 degree temp. After about 30 minutes, I head back to the start line and now find it jammed pack with several hundred more bikes and most of their riders.

At 6:30 am, the shotgun blast goes off and the race starts. I am about 600 feet from the starting line and it takes about 2 minutes before I am able to start moving. A police escort leads the pack of riders out of town. The first 3.5 miles are on a paved two lane road, down hill and times are precarious with up to 6 or 7 bikes across. This down hill is welcomed now but creates quiet the problem in about 100 miles. The escort keeps the pace at a slow 25 mph or so, which is almost doable without pedaling. We then go over a railroad crossing, the escort stops blocking the pavement and directs the riders to make a right turn on a dirt road. I am told the race is full on at the front now.

My pace is pretty much dictated by the mass of riders in front of me.I have about 3 miles on this dirt road before I reach the first deal breaker of the ride. It is the climb up St. Kevins which is a little over a mile long and averages over 8 percent with an almost 20 percent spike right in the middle. Even before we start the climb, I am passing riders that are already blowing up. 5 or 6 miles in, many are already the pedaling dead. I think to myself that most of these folks have no chance of finishing or even making the first 4 hour cutoff at 40 miles. For some reason, I can kinda sense these things now.

As I start the climb, the sound of many bikes can be heard down shifting in unison to get into their climbing gears. A lot of riders are stopping at the start of the climb, which is really tame for Leadville standards. These riders are drinking, eating, peeing and wasting precious minutes. I am in my my middle chain ring and probably my easiest gear in the rear. After about 5 minutes, the steepness comes. I drop down into my granny climbing gear and get going, trying to keep my heart rate in check and watch out for wayward riders. Many folks are now walking. The dirt road is rutted, washed out and really only has one good line going up. Riders are about 3 across and pretty much take up the width of the road. After about 10 minutes or so at about 4 to 5 mph, the course takes a hard left. The next 4 miles or so has some good climbing along with a few fast down hills.

At about the 11 mile mark, the course dumps us out onto a paved road. The next 3 miles are down hill and the decent is fast. By now, riders are spread out and you can go like speed racer if you choose. I get up to about 40 mph and let it rip for the entire descent. The temp is still in the mid 30's and my hands are ice cold, just like last year, except they are dry. This road takes us around Turquoise Lake.

Once at the bottom of the decent, a 2 mile paved ascent is in order. The climb is not too terribly steep, probably a grade of 4 or 5 percent.After about 2 miles of climbing, the course takes a right turn onto a groomed dirt road. This portion is about 3 miles at a gentle grade of 2 to 4 percent, and up of course. We then make a hard left and the course becomes very rocky and rutted for the next 3 miles or so. The grade is probably about 4 percent, and up. As I pedal on, I notice that I am about to lose my bike computer due to a broken zip tie. I am now heating up, bad, even thou the temp is probably still in the low 40's. The skies are void of any clouds, which also is opposite of last year. I decide to stop and re-zip my computer and shed my light weight jacket. I get going again after a minute or so and make the summit of this climb which tops out around 11,200 feet or so.

Now, comes the almost 4 mile descent of Powerline, which is so named because the riders take the dirt road/path that is beneath high voltage power lines. The decent averages over 8 percent with the bottom section topping out at whopping 25 percent. Powerline loses about 1600 feet of elevation from top to bottom. Powerline is the most washed, rutted and wreck prone section of the whole Leadville course and has 3 false peaks as you go down. Back in July, I descended this section in about 15 minutes, or less. I enter feeling good with a few riders directly in front and behind me. When the time presents itself, I pass slower riders that I come up on. I then come up on a wreck in a gnarly section and many other riders, and course marshalls, are feverishly working on the rider. I pass slowly, say a piece for him and continue on. A few minutes later, I pass a couple of 4 wheelers/gators screaming up towards the downed rider. I later learned that the rider suffered traumatic head injuries and that he needed rescue breathing/cpr, that was given to him by the stopped riders. Lucky for him, 3 of the riders that stopped were doctors. He was helicoptered to Denver from the course and the early word is that he will live.

I leave Powerline behind and now have about 4 miles of relatively easy paved and dirt roads to the first check point at 26 miles. I jump into a few pace lines and we pump out some good speed on mostly flat roads. I roll thru the first check point/aid station at Pipeline at 9:10 am, which is only 8 minutes faster than last year. To say the least, I am a bit concerned about my time.

The next check point/aid station, and first cut-off time is at Twin Lakes which is 14 miles away, and has to be had by 10:30 am or game over. Last year, I rolled thru Twin Lakes at 10:25 am. I really start pushing the pedals now. The first 11 miles are on a dirt road, a little pavement and then some gravel roads. There are some moderate climbs, descents and the only single track on the whole course, 2 miles, which were designed by Dave Wiens 2 years ago due to erosion on the course. I then have about a 2 mile decent on pavement to Twin Lakes and then the check point about a mile later. I make it to Twin Lakes and go thru the crew area, which is always a blast. On both sides of this gravel road that parallels the lake, crews are lined up waiting for their riders, probably 2 to 4 thousand strong. They are yelling, screaming, cow belling, World Cup horning, and flat out partying.

Last year, Sir Lance and I passed going in opposite directions here. He was at mile 60 heading back and I was at mile 40, not heading back. I pedal on towards the hell than I know is coming and make it thru the check at about 10:08 am. Last year, this 14 mile stretch took me 1:07 to do. This year, I was about 10 minutes faster at 58 minutes. In 2009, I made it thru Twin Lakes at 10:25:44 am. After 40 miles, I am only 18 minutes faster than last year's time. Remember, every minute counts in this thing.

By now, I have emptied my Camelbak but still have two full bottles on my bike. I decided way back that I wasn't not going to lug a full Camelbak the next 10 miles to Columbine Mine, which graciously gives riders 3,400 feet of climbing up to 12,600 feet in 10 miles. In all my haste, I pedaled thru the aid station and did not want to turn around and back track. I stop next to some folks crewing and ask if they have any water to spare. They give me two bottles of water. I thank them. I chug one, store the other in my jersey and take off.

The next 1.5 miles are not too tough. A couple of short steep climbs and some dirt road. During this section, I see a couple of riders heading towards me and realize they are the race leaders. JHK, with Levi Leipheimer two feet off of his rear wheel, come screaming past me heading back towards Twin Lakes. I am at about mile 41 and they at 59. A few minutes later, several other race contenders, including 6 time winner Dave Wiens, come screaming past me, each spaced apart by a few minutes or so. Levi ends up winning in 6 hours and 16 minutes, breaking Armstrong's record from last year by about 10 minutes. JHK comes in second at about 6:25. Wiens came in fourth at 6:33.

At about 42 miles, the game changer starts. For the next 8.5 miles, the ascent will average about 8 percent and spikes at around 23 percent at the top. The road is dirt and gravel and graded really well, for the most part. I decided that, unlike last year, I would stay in my middle chain ring until my legs started giving way and then I would go to the small chain ring. Last year, I rode most all of this climb in the small chain ring hoping to save my legs, lungs, heart, brain, eyes, toes, hands, etc.

I start grinding away, hoping that I have less than 2 hours and 30 minutes of my front wheel pointing towards the sky. Last year it took me 2:46 to knock this beast off. The top guys usually do this climb in less than 70 minutes.

Early on, the outside of my left knee, which was aching miles back, really starts throbbing. My right hip is irritating me for some reason. My saddle body connection, thou not real bad, is less than perfect. My customary headache, which in years past usually comes on around now, shows up as scheduled. My stomach, which had felt weird for the last hour or so, now had me knowing I was going to throw-up any minute. I even tried to force myself to yak several times while pedaling, without luck. The temp is probably about 60, which feels much warmer than it sounds, and still not a cloud in the perfectly blue sky.

About mile 44, a cramp starts trying to visit my left thigh. Every pedal stroke, I can feel the cramp coming on. I am still in my middle chain ring, trying to keep my pace at a respectable 4 to 6 mph. I finally relent, at an attempt to keep the cramp(s) at bay, and drop down into my granny chain ring. I revisit the middle chain ring when the grade becomes less steep, but this is only for short periods.

By now, a steady flow of riders are screaming down hill back towards Twin Lakes as I grind up-wards with well over a hour before I will make the turn around. I am passing more riders going up than are passing me. The riders going up are really spread out at this point. Mostly single file and, at times, hundreds of yards separate us. Some are walking, some are stopped, many appear to contemplating their sanity. I chat up most that I pass or that pass me.The next 4 miles or so, are more of the same. Just grinding away, eventually past tree line, which happens around mile 48'ish or so.

There was at least one funny thing above tree line other than me. On the side of the road, there were a couple of dudes serving up mini hot dog bites on a tray and ice cold beer, PBR, to any rider who wanted. The server was wearing a waiter styled outfit and the cook was dressed like a cook. They must of camped out overnight or drove up many hours earlier because vehicle traffic is prohibited on this climb during the race. I would of liked to oblige them on the dog but, like I mentioned earlier, eating doesn't bode well for me during these times and I don't do beer. I did fist bump the server as I rode by.

Around mile 49 or so, the steepness comes at a cost of 600 feet of gain per mile. This will be the case for the next 2 miles. As far as I can see up, riders are pushing their bikes and I join the congo line. The dirt road now becomes very rocky and rutted. Walking is not very easy due to the rocks, ruts and altitude. I don't know exactly, but I guess for close to the next hour, myself, along with riders in front and back of me just put one foot in front of the other continuing towards the check point. A steady stream of riders are heading down the ragged jeep road as we push up the far right side of it. There are many false summits on this journey. As you crest each one, all one can see is a long line of bike pushers slowly marching towards the next summit. Finally, after one really steep section, most riders are able to remount their bikes and head for the check point/aid station which is about a 1/4 mile away and visible. We go down a slight decent, up just a few hundred yards and then zip down to it.

I roll thru the check point at 12:40 pm which is 6 hours and 10 minutes after the start. It took me 2 hours 32 minutes to knock this off which is a mere 14 minutes faster than last year. My head is really killing me now and I have drank very little on the way up which means no calories and probably big time dehydration. The volunteers at the top, which are numerous and a god send, hold my bike. They help me dump my PowerBar powder into my empty Camelbak and one empty bottle and we fill them with water. Also refill my half empty second bottle with water. I grab a piece of banana, some mm's and some Frito's and attempt to eat. I start eating the banana and it does not want to go down. I gnaw on it like someone without teeth and I finally get it down. I munch the handful of Frito's, um salt, in the same manner.I then take off and throw the small handful of mm's in my mouth and they exit about 3 seconds later in a big glob. Gross I know.

All in all , I was stopped less than 3 or 4 minutes and now I got almost 10 miles of nothing but down hill. I make it about 100 yards, attempt to take a drink from Camelbak and nothing. I figure the hose got kinked when we refilled the bladder so I stop, take the Camelbak off, inspect the hose and it is fine. I pull the bladder out and where the hose is coming out is clogged with all the powder. I shake the bladder, suck the hose, blow the hose for what seemed like a minute or so. Finally, I get it unclogged, strap it back on and hit the pedals in the direction I just spent 2.5 hours grinding up.

After about 1.5 miles, which is the rough stuff I pushed up, the road smooths out and then it is let it rip time. I probably passed 100 or 200 riders still heading up as I am heading down, and then nothing. No riders are allowed to ride past the Twin Lakes check point after the 4 hour/10:30 am time limit. It is now kinda weird riding by yourself after being surrounded by folks for the last 6 plus hours. Occasionally, a lone rider will come flying past me or I will pass one heading down the route which consists of 8 or 9 switch backs. This is the case all the way to the Twin Lakes check point at mile 60'ish.

I roll into the check point right at 1:30 pm which is roughly 41 minutes ahead of last year. 7 hours has elapsed since the race started. I stop at the check point and ask a volunteer if they have any Tylenol for my aching head. He goes over to the tent, a medical guy comes over, asks me a few questions, hands me a 1000 mg's and I am off with a vengeance.

I have 2 hours, 3:30 pm, to make the 14 miles back to the Pipeline check point. Last year, it took me 1 hour and 20 minutes to cover this distance and I arrived at the check point at 9 hours and 3 minutes, game was over. I roll back across the dam, back thru the now less frenzied crew area. Many of the crews have now beat feeted it back to either Pipeline or Leadville to see their rider's come thru, and then finish.

I have a 2 mile paved climb that hurts pretty good and then back onto 4 or 5 miles of slightly down hill and flat gravel road. Then, onto some pavement for about a mile and then back up Dave Wiens' two miles of single track. I pass quiet a few riders. Now, I only have a about 6 miles to the Pipeline check point and most of this section is not hard at all, except for the fact I have about 70 miles in my legs. Any of the climbs at this point require me to gear way down to avoid cramps and because I cannot push any big gears going up hill because I can't.

I roll into and thru the Powerline check point at 2:51 pm which is 8 hours and 21 minutes since the shotgun went off. It took me 1 hour and 21 minutes to roll this section which was 1 minute slower than last year.

I now have about 3 hours and 39 minutes to cover a mere 26 miles or so to the finish. I covered this distance heading in the opposite direction this morning in about 2 hours and 40 minutes. The problem is the daunting 4 mile Powerline climb, which gains 1600 feet and the last 3 mile grind up hill into Leadville. I start crunching miles, time and mph in my head and believe I am going to be very close to the 12 hour cut-off for the buckle. I am fairly confident I can come in under the 13 hour finishing time.

I roll onto the pavement and have about 4 miles to the bottom of Powerline. The wind is now blowing right into my face at about 15 to 20 mph, which is just plain insulting at this point.

I roll up to the bottom of Powerline and ride right up to the point where it gets really steep. Remember the almost 25 percent decent earlier. Now it is 25 percent in the other direction. I start pushing my sled again, like everyone except the top few riders.

As I pushed on, a spectator tells me "don't feel bad, Dave Wiens pushed his bike up earlier too." Remember from earlier, Powerline has 3 distinct summits. I push all of this one. I then get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill, and then start pushing towards the second summit. Once at the top of the second, I again get to ride a little bit, some of which is down hill. And then, yep you guessed it, some more pushing up to the third and final summit on Powerline.

In July, after about only 25 miles of riding, I pushed the first section of Powerline and then rode the rest of it. Total time was about 57 minutes. Today, the total time was about 80 minutes. What a difference that extra 55 miles and extra 8 hours in the saddle makes on your time.

I then have about 3 miles of either flat or mostly down hill rugged jeep road. I am hauling some butt on the down hills letting it hang in the wind. I make it down the jeep road, hang a right and now about 2 miles down a well groomed dirt road, which has a downward grade of 2 to 4 percent.

I had caught 3 or 4 riders at the last right turn and now myself, and a dude wearing a "Brooklyn" jersey let it rip. I am going around 25 to 30 mph and getting closer to my goal, the end.

After the 2 miles, myself and "Brooklyn" make a left turn onto the Turqoise Lake paved road to a bit of fan fare. Probably 20 to 30 spectators are yelling and encouraging us on. I think they are really there to see some fools suffering bad. We now have another 2 miles of down hill. Myself and "Brooklyn" get up to about 35 mph. In no time flat, we are at the bottom and the pavement starts pointing up, again.

This 3 mile section that gave me a little over 40 mph about 10.5 hours ago, would not see anything close to that going up. For most of this climb, I am flying at around 5 to 7 mph. I finally reach the summit, make a hard left onto the dirt/jeep road. Spectators and volunteers yell that I have about 11 miles and 55 minutes to make the 12 hour buckle time.

Most of the next 4 miles or so are down hill, except for 3 or 4 sections that are really steep, but not terribly long. This is St. Kevins in reverse. I bomb the down hills and have to dismount and push the steeps.

At the bottom of St. Kevins, I have about 3 miles of dirt road that is mainly flat or point very slightly downward. I then roll onto some pavement for about another mile and then back onto some dirt road for another mile or so.

I then take a hard left turn onto a nasty section of dirt road. Remember the 3'ish mile decent on the paved road out of town this morning, this dirt road is the evil twin sister going up. For about the first mile, the entire road is covered from side to side with golf ball sized, tennis ball sized, baseball sized, softball sized rocks. Being up hill and bumpy enough to jar one's liver out, I again resort to pushing my bike because riding it for me is impossible at this point, which is around 100 miles into the game.

After I get out of boulder blvd, I remount my steed and get after the final 2 miles or so, which are still up hill. I jump on the pedals hard and even make it into the big chainring at times, until I blow up, which does not take much. I down shift a few gears, recover a bit, and then big ring it out until I blow up again.

I make it to the pavement and have about a mile to go. I hang a left, go several hundred yards and then make a right. Now, I have about 3/4 mile to the finish line. And, I will let you guess. Okay, the first 1/4 mile or so is up hill. I drop down into my easist gear and start spinning, which is not moving me forward much at this point. Spectators are still every where, yelling, encouraging and several come out and run beside/behind me. It is like Tour de France stuff. One guy that runs beside me says something and I ask if I missed 12 hours. He tells me I did by about 5 minutes.

A police officer in a squad car pulls up beside me, turns his lights on and is talking to me thru his downed passenger window as I am still pedaling away. I must of looked really bad, really bad. I could hear him talking but my ears were not taking in what he was saying. I keep spinning for the next couple minutes, with him beside me and still talking and I am just nodding my head at him. I crest the hill and now I can see the finish line about 1/2 mile away, which the first half is down hill.

I shift up into some big gears and hammer away, at least tried too. I leave the cop behind and approach a stop sign, which we ran thru with an escort this morning. For some reason, I slow for it. He says something over his PA. I guess he told me to run thru it so I hammer on.

As I blow the stop sign, the road points up, again. Lots of folks are still on both sides of the road yelling and screaming. I pedal with all the fury I have and roll across the finish line as the announcer calls out my name, home city I think, something about a medal and a beer.

As I coast to a stop, someone placed a finishing medal around my neck. Volunteer's offer me water which I drink several glasses of. Then, I just sit, slumped over my bike as exhausted and spent as I have ever been.

The finishing clock displayed 12:07:04.4.