“I love this. I love everything about this.” That was my thought as I climbed up Powerline 5 hours deep into the Leadville 100. I think it’s safe to say that Leadville is my favorite race out there, and I already can’t wait to line up next year. That’s saying a lot considering the fact that this morning I woke up with muscle cramps, back pain, a sore throat, and chest pain after breathing so hard for over 7 hours of all out racing all above 10,000 feet. It’s a bizarre love for sure. 

For weeks leading into Leadville, I was doing my homework. As the defending champ, I felt like in many ways I was supposed to “know the formula” but coming into the race last year with a separated shoulder and very little thought or preparation, I had won the race, but I didn’t know what was “ideal.” I spent a lot of time playing with different ideas and formulas, and ultimately kept coming back to the same idea – beat my time from last year. 

Last year my time was the 6^th fastest in Leadville history so I figured that if I could beat that, then anyone who bested me had really earned it. I made my pacing plan accordingly. Despite all of the buildup, all of the pressure, all of the pomp and circumstance, I stood on the start line of Leadville calm and confident. All I ever wanted was to stand on that start line as the best version of myself, knowing that a win was possible, and with a good plan. Check, check, and check. The rest was out of my hands. 

As we pressed out of the line, the pace was uncharacteristically hot. I clocked in a max of 142 rpms on my 32-tooth chain ring. Riders came blasting around me. Panicking actually would have felt much more natural than the calm that washed over me. Once or twice I almost felt panic because of my calm. Aren’t I supposed to be freaking out?! As we entered the first climb in the race, I was sitting in 17^th of the women. I blocked everyone around me out, and stared straight down at my power meter. This was the power I could hold the entire race, and I didn’t think most around me could say the same, or at least I was really, really counting on it. 

By the top of the first climb, I had moved into 12^th position. About 2 hours into the race, I had linked up with a small group of women and we were in positions 6-13^th. With about an hour of flat riding ahead of us, I settled into the fact that my best course of action was to stay in this group and prep for what was ahead. Every chance I got I was stuffing my face with food and drink, knowing that I was fueling for the hours head. It wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows though. I think it’s important for people to know that at this type of elevation, most people’s stomachs don’t cooperate. I was throwing up in my mouth, but I kept onboarding food. Eating in a race like this is an intellectual decision, not an enjoyable experience. I knew that my food works for me so I was confident in my choice to continue onward.

As we came to the base of Columbine (an hour-long climb topping out at 12,500 feet and the turn-around point on the course), I felt insecure. This was the moment that I would know if my pacing was going to pay off. What if I couldn’t drop my group? What if I couldn’t catch those ahead? Even worse, what if I got passed? Just before I spiraled into this thought loop, I stopped myself and asked, “What doesn’t feel stressful right now?” The answer: Power. I can hold 205 watts up this climb. So, I did. I ignored everyone around me and set the dial to 205. 10 minutes in, my group was behind me, and my eyes were looking ahead. I was in 6^th. Before the top of Columbine, I caught Sarah Sturm and moved into 5^th position. By the nature of the out and back course, I could see all of my competitors as they began their journey back. I would be lying if I said the gap wasn’t intimidating. 4^th place was about 7 minutes ahead, and a 3^rd place podium spot was 10 minutes up the road from where I was. As I felt that intimidation, I once again reigned it in, said a prayer, and focused on my own power. 

As I journeyed back, I was ramping the speed at an insane pace. An hour later, I got a split that 4^th place was 4 minutes up and this time I thought, “No problem.” I was locked in. This is the feeling that I live for. 

At the base of Powerline, I really thought I would catch 4^th place on that climb up, but I didn’t. I was feeling my power starting to want to fade, so I shot gunned two Liquid Shots back-to-back and put my head down and gritted my teeth. With 15 miles to go, I felt like I was in an all-out mad dash to try to make it up to 4^th before the finish. I still couldn’t see her, though. The miles were ticking down and my muscle were cramping. I had 6 hours of racing in my legs and I was in and out of the saddle trying to sprint for the final hour of the race. Finally, just as my will was wanting to break, with 8 miles to go, I passed Haley Smith and moved into 4^th place. I didn’t look back. I stayed on the gas. I was close enough to the finish now that I just wanted to get there. 

With 3 miles to go, I came blazing around a corner and saw Alexis Skarda’s pink jersey off in the distance. That was 3^rd place. My body wanted to quit, but my mind told me I had to try. I felt like I dragged my aching body out of the saddle, gritting my teeth, putting everything into this final push that had now lasted more than 15 miles. I caught Alexis with 1 mile to go, but she was not going down without a fight. She jumped on my wheel and as we turned right onto the finish line straight, we were side my side in a bar-banging, 7-hour deep, all-out sprint for the podium. She bested me at the line (which I will use as extra motivation for the next 364 days until next year), but man am I so happy! What a day! What a lesson in patience! 

Just a few stats- 

At the bottom of Columbine I was in 13^th position in the women, I finished 4^th

At the bottom of Columbine I was 112^th for men and women, I finished 66^th

On Strava I had the all-time fastest time for women for the final hour (15 mile segment) of the race!