I’m back from Leadville, where I’ve had an amazing week and an extraordinarily intense race (more intense than I’ve told anyone about, so far).
I’m not going to do much in the way of spoilers, except for one really big one. Here’s The Hammer and me, at the finish line:
Yeah, it kinda gives away that weboth finished the race and were both happy and dirty when we did, but I think we can all live with that level of spoilerage.
And now I need to pack my bags and get to Austin, for a three-day workshop I’m leading.
Time to write is just a little bit elusive right now.
But let me promise you this: I have stories to tell, and I’m going to tell them. Including:
My Leadville writeup
The rest of the Crusher in the Tushar story
The Hammer’s 50-mile trail run writeup
A 100 Miles of Nowhere Update
My Cedar City Fireroad 100K writeup
My Interlaken 100 writeup
The Hammer’s Lotoja writeup
Also, I have winners from the Grand Slam for Kenya, whom I will talk about (who they are and what prizes they select).
I hope to do some writing on the plane this afternoon / evening, which means the first part of a race report tomorrow AM.
Lots coming soon. I haven’t forgotten about you. Honest.
I’m on vacation this week, hanging out in Leadville Colorado, acclimating to the altitude and getting ready for the big race.
I’m also hanging out with other racers and doing my best to be a nuisance to The Queen of Pain as we do the “Reba & Fatty’s Leadville Experience.”
We’re having a fantastic time.
The Hammer and I drove out here, which means that we were pretty darned liberal with how much stuff we brought:
Why four bikes? Well, I’m loaning the Scalpel to a friend, The Hammer is riding her Specialized Stumpy S-Works, I’m riding my (amazing) Cannondale F-Si Black Inc., and we’re bringing my Felt 9 FRD as a backup bike for The Hammer and me.
Nothing but the essentials here, folks.
The Hammer and I didn’t have a place to stay in Leadville for our first couple days, so we rented a little place in Breckenridge.
Within 15 minutes, the place was a complete disaster:
The thing is, most of this mess is from The Hammer. When she’s on vacation, her neat-freakiness is on vacation too.
My messiness, on the other hand, maintains its current horrid levels.
The first day we were at altitude, The Hammer and I rode the Columbine climb, the most-talked-about climb of the Leadville 100. We agreed that for this ride, we would go good and hard. I could be humble about the results, but I’m not going to be. I knocked out a 1:06 climb; The Hammer did it in 1:20.
We’re both feeling pretty good about those results.
The next day, we pre-rode the St. Kevins climb, vowing to no longer do any race-level riding.
Which meant that we weren’t feeling too cooked to take a picture.
Then, yesterday, the Leadville Experience rides began, which meant another climb up Columbine. This time I had fun, talked with people, and took pictures of people as they rode up this amazing climb:
It was a good-sized group, and we got a fantastic photo of all of us at the summit:
Then I got a photo of The Queen of Pain and me.
As you can see, I’m an amazingly good selfie-taker.
Linday Guerrette, the amazing photographer documenting this week for Reba, didn’t necessarily approve of my photo, however, and got one that may be a little better:
Today? The Powerline Climb. I’m proud to say that for the first time ever, I did the entire “hard part” without putting a foot down.
Of course, nobody took a picture of that.
However, I did get a picture of The Hammer, also killing it on the climb:
And I got a photo of Dave Thompson, doing it the way we’ll all be doing it this Saturday:
Reba, of course, was riding it. As I’m taking this picture, I was cheering her on:
“You’re in my way,” she replied.
Hmph.
At the top of the Powerline, Dave Houston posed in front of the incredible mountain vista. He’s riding strong; I have a feeling he’s going to have a terrific race this Saturday.
For perspective of his heightedness, check out David with The Hammer and me.
And finally, a tip, because this blog is nothing if not educational.
When you drive up to 10,200 feet, be careful or your snacks might explode.
Equipped with ENVE wheels, ROTOR rings, cranks and power meters, KMC chains, Shimano Dura-ace Di2 drivetrain and brakes, Ceramic Speed bearings and a Sella Italia saddles, this is, without question, the most exclusive, amazing bike I have ever had in a contest.
It is just like the bikes the pros in Team MTN-Qhubeka rode, with the exception that ENVE will also provide the cockpit for the bike.
In other words, the bike we’re giving away as part of the Grand Slam for Kenya will be nicer than the ones the pros rode.
How does that make you feel? A little bit like this?
Friends and Family
It makes perfect sense to have this bike as a prize in Grand Slam for Kenya. After all, Qhubeka is World Bicycle Relief’s program in South Africa that provides bicycles to people in need.
Check out the Thompsons — WBR Ambassadors and Friends of Fatty — riding with Team Principal Doug Ryder, Polka-Dot Jersey phenom Daniel Teklehaimanot, and team honcho Tyler Farrar:
It’s been an amazing month, both for the Tour de France and for World Bicycle Relief.
I don’t think there’s ever been a question of whether the cause is good enough to warrant donating in the Grand Slam for Kenya.
But if there’s ever been a question of whether the prizes in the Grand Slam for Kenya warrant making a donation…well, I think that question has now been definitively answered.
Rebecca Rusch — AKA The Queen of Pain — and I were recently talking about how the final few weeks before the Leadville 100 totally start consuming all your thoughts and time.
It can be a really intense and anxious time for people who have entered the race and dedicated pretty much all our waking moments to it for eight months or more.
We came up with what I think is a terrific idea:
What if we did a series of three webinars during this run-up to the race, designed to address the questions, challenges, and hopes Leadville 100 MTB racers all have on our minds?
And that’s what we’ve done.
Reba and I are teaming up to provide a free set of three webinars to help you get ready for the Leadville 100 Mountain Bike Race during these last few weeks before the event. These webinars are designed to help you finish faster, use the course to your advantage, and have the peace of mind that you haven’t left something important at home.
While free, these webinars do require you register, so be sure to sign up for each (and if you can’t attend live, don’t worry, they’ll all be recorded and uploaded for on-demand viewing both here and at http://www.rebeccarusch.com/leadvilleexperience/).
Knock Half an Hour Off Your Time: Top Ten Racing Tips (Wednesday, July 29, 6:00pm PT / 9:00 ET) Two weeks before the race last year, Reba started working with The Hammer to help her get her fastest time ever, knocking an incredible forty minutes off her previous best. These same strategies will work for you, whether you’re hoping to finish before the time cutoff or get the coveted big belt buckle. Click here to register.
Know the Course (Monday, August 3, 6:00pm PT / 9:00 ET) Sure, you know about Columbine and Powerline, but there are tips and tricks you can use on every single section of the course to stay focused, fast, and safe. We’re going to talk through each part of the course, describing what to do, what to watch out for, and what your split times should be for common finish targets. Click here to register.
Final Checklists (Monday, August 10, 6:00pm PT / 9:00 ET) You’re on your way to Leadville. Don’t forget anything important! We’ll talk through the absolute essentials for you and your crew (if you have one), from bike to clothes to food to tools. We’ll also be providing actual checklists for you to use and adapt. Click here to register.
Reba and Fatty will be happy to take and answer your questions during these live webinars. We look forward to chatting with you soon!
The Crusher in the Tushar — Burke Swindlehurst’s Road / Dirt enigmatic seventy mile, climbtastic race in Beaver, Utah — has traditionally been a problematic event for me.
The first year I tried it, I made the colossal mistake of not just riding a bike that was completely new to me, but riding a kind of bike (a CX bike) that was completely new to me.
I couldn’t climb with it, I couldn’t ride dirt on it. I flatted twice with it, and I was miserable on it.
The next year I tried it, I was smarter: I rode a singlespeed, which suited me much, much better. Even so, I struggled with exactly the parts you’d expect a singlespeed to struggle with: the long paved downhill parts.
Oh, and I was suddenly forced — with about seven miles left to go — by my GI tract to scramble down a mountainside in search of a private place to poop.
Last year I was in North Carolina on a family vacation, and hence didn’t try it at all.
This year, however…was different. This year, somehow, every possible thing that could go right, did. Plus, a number of things that I wouldn’t have thought possible to go right also went right.
I had a glorious day on the bike. One of my favorite race experiences, ever.
That’s not hyperbole; that’s not a trick. It’s just true. Which means that I’m pretty much eliminating the possibility of drama from this story, before I even get started. But I’m OK with that, because for this story, I just really want to talk about how much fun I have when racing, and how much I like the people I race with, and how incredible a good day on the bike can feel…both before and after.
This, really, is just about having a great time on a great day in a great place with great people.
The Day Before
Beaver, Utah is not far from Alpine, Utah. Less than three hours. So by the time The Hammer and I got to Packet Pickup, got our race numbers and t-shirts and dropped our tickets in the raffle jars…well, we still had most of the afternoon left to kill.
“Let’s go drive part of the course, make note of how long we’re on pavement before the first big dirt road climb begins,” The Hammer suggested.
Sure, why not?
We learned some valuable stuff on this drive. First, we learned that the first seven or so miles of the course are pretty much flat. Connecting up with a group would be extremely helpful here.
Then, we learned, the road becomes steeper for a few miles. The bunches of people would turn into single-file ribbons of people.
And then, almost exactly ten miles into the race, we’d be making a right turn. After that, it’d be uphill for…pretty much ever.
I’m not complaining about that never-ending climb, by the way. It’s up a gorgeous mountain, and climbing is what The Hammer and I do best. We commemorated the moment with a selfie:
Yeah, we’re both wearing our “Crusher” t-shirts from prior years. We’re like that.
Dinner
By the time we finished our survey of the first ten miles of the race and had returned back to the land of cel phone coverage, FOF David Houston had left us a message. He was in town.
“Let’s meet at Crazy Cow Cafe (one of a small number of restaurants in this small town) for dinner,” we suggested. Astonishingly, David did not have a better offer.
Then we texted Cory, who’d also be racing the Crusher. “Dinner?”
“Just arrived in Beaver,” he texted back. “Check out my awesome hotel room.”
I tell you, some people lead charmed lives. You could sit and read (or play Candy Crush) on that toilet for hours without your arms getting tired.
As you might expect, we were amazed that Cory elected to leave his hotel room and join us for dinner.
Then we called and invited my niece Lindsey and her new hubby Ben, along with Ben’s dad, Cory and his wife Lynne.
(Yes, most of the people we know are named Cory or have a name that can be shortened to “Lyn.” It keeps things so much easier for us.)
Initially they were reluctant to join us for a meal at a place called “Crazy Cow,” but they relented when I texted them a photo of the sweet potato fries I was eating.
Well of course they’d join us, in that case.
We ate. Most everyone else ate reasonably; I killed my sweet potato fries and a huge helping of Penne Alfredo Chicken Carbonara, or something like that.
The Hammer looked on in a mixture of concern and horror.
More than eating, though, we talked. After all, everyone at that table would be in Leadville soon, all of us staying at the same house. So we had some nerves about this race, some expectations for this race. And possibly even some things to prove.
Predicting the Future
The Hammer revealed her magic Crusher – Leadville Theorem, which postulates that your Leadville time will be, quite simply, your Crusher time plus three hours. This has been proven right, time and time again.
We went around the table, talking about what we were hoping to finish the Crusher in. Astonishingly, more or less remember what everyone said, which I am pleased to present to you in this convenient bullet-point format:
Cory (Of SBR-WBR Fame): “I’d like to finish half an hour faster than I did last time.
Ben: “My brother finished it in 5:39, so I want to finish it at least that fast.
The Hammer: “I’d be happy with six hours.” Which, by the way, would be fifteen minutes faster than the last time she raced it.
Lindsey: “I want to hang with Lisa for as long as I can.” When pressed, she admitted she wants to do this race in under six hours.
Cory (Ben’s Dad): Wanted anything under seven hours.
David: “I want to finish before the time cutoff.” That’s a worthy goal, and not one that everyone who attempts the Crusher accomplishes.
As for me, well, I said I wanted to have a “good” Crusher: one with no mechanicals and no sudden and undeniable urges. If these things happened, I thought I’d be good for a 5:30.
“Do you have a stretch goal?” Ben asked. A good question, and a strong indicator that Ben understands how I think. I always have a stretch goal for when I’m racing. You know, for just in case the day’s going well and I am exceeding expectations. Something new to stretch for.
Hey, it could happen.
“5:20,” I replied. “5:20 would be a really good day.”
“I think you’re going to get 5:15,” said The Hammer. Which is just one example of why I married her.
Don’t Read This Part
You all know I’m about to start talking about pooping, right? You know that I can’t help myself, right?
So here’s the thing: that penne carbonara chicken alfredo plus sweet potato fries turned out to be…a little much.
I have lost count how many times I pooped before we left the hotel and made our way to the starting line, but…it was a lot.
And then, I still had to go.
And in fact, I was in the portapotty when the race began.
Luckily for me, the Crusher is a staggered start. When the first wave (pro men) took off, I still had nine minutes before my wave — the final wave, men 45 – 49 — began.
OK, I am done talking about pooping now.
My Race Begins
I was really excited about the fact that since I am still (barely) in the 45 – 49 age group, I would get to go last. It meant that if I were fast and strong enough, I’d get to say “hi” to all my friends and family as I caught them throughout the race.
I know, I know. It sounds like hubris for me to talk that way. I’m willing to own that hubris. I have no choice.
I found my area, embedded myself in the mid-backish part of it, and wandered forward as the other groups started. Women first — Lindsey and The Hammer:
Then single speeders, then 50+ men (Cory, Cory, and David), then 18-29 men (Ben).
Then three more groups.
Then, finally — for the last time — my 45 – 49 age group.
We started slow for a few minutes, but ramped up fast. I moved from group to group, expecting there would be someone who’d want to bridge up to the 40-44 men main field.
I was right. A guy in a “Half Fast” (say it to understand it) kit launched forward. I grabbed his wheel, and a guy in a Chamoi Butt’r kit grabbed mine.
Abracadabra, without anyone planning on it, we suddenly had ourselves an express locomotive. Flying from one group to the next, briefly resting, and surging to the next group.
It was exhilerating.
I took turns on the front at first, but this group was just faster than I was. I had bitten off more than I could chew. Before the ten miles of pavement ended, I got spit out the back and was on my own.
That’s OK, though: I had had a ball trying to hang with these fast guys. Now I’d recover, eat my first GU of the day, and get ready for the fact that very soon we’d be making a right turn, and then it would be nothing but climbing for the next tennish miles.
The contents of my jersey pockets for the Crusher in the Tushar.
And it’s not like I had slowed to a crawl. First I caught my friend DJ (who was suffering from what I think is a broken or badly bruised rib), then David Houston — easy to recognize in his WBR kit — and then SBR-Cory, who was riding a Cannondale F-Si Black Inc., just like I was.
“Excuse me sir,” I said, as I caught Cory. “But could you please refer me to an establishment where I might procure such a bicycle as fine as yours?”
I said this in my “Ernie” voice (Yes, I can do a very good Ernie impersonation; I’m full of surprises) for some reason.
And then we turned right, and a few seconds later we were on dirt.
The real race — sixty more miles, about ten thousand feet of climbing — was starting now.
Which is where we’ll pick up in the next installment.
