Limitless at Leadville

The 10 year buckle seemed a silly star to shoot for when I first heard about it in 2016 as a novice endurance MTB rider trying to tackle the iconic LT100 for the first time. "Why not try something new?" I thought as a handful of grizzled athletes collected their absurdly large belt buckles from an equally grizzled retired miner who's never bothered cleaning his cowboy hat.

And now? I'm only a few finishes away from my very own midsection dinner plate. Grizzled? I'd like to not think so but as my favorite quote goes, "time is the thief you cannot banish."

Blowing snot, peeing yourself, and bashing your shin are not excuses for missing a photo-op.

I've challenged myself to set the stage for unique Leadville 100 experiences. 2016, the first go. 2017, get that sub-9 finish you just so barely missed on Year 1. 2019, do it singlespeed. 2021, go for a sub-8 time. 2022, do it on a tandem. 2024, win it on singlespeed. Skittering across that please-get-here-quicker red-carpet on 6th Street saw each of these goals accomplished. What story line could I craft for a memorable 2025?

The wisdom of those with 10-year buckles something I've yet to gain led me down a rabbit-hole of ideas. Thinking I needed to build a unique experience while ignoring that reality that every lived experience, even those repeated year over year, is in itself a unique moment for we are different each time around. Each event. Each day. Each minute. I've used this fact in my coaching. The desire to change is often made more difficult by athletes stuck in their old thinking, old behaviors, and old confidences, leaving them blind to the truth that this very instant can be the moment the new person, the new athlete, emerges. "RIGHT NOW I am good at climbing or descending or rock gardens or on-and-on." The desired identity leading the way is a strategy taught by James Clear in Atomic Habits. So why am I hellbent on crafting the stage for a unique experience when the experience is by default unique?

This calm clarity enveloped me at 5:42AM on August 9th. A warm realization that was welcomed as temperatures hovered around 40° and I boldly wore a simple summer riding kit. Staring down at my number plate resurfaced memories of my first LT100, before the Grand Prix and staggered starts. That first Leadville had me several hundred yards behind wondering what the hell was going to happen. I recall wondering if I had to hit the bathroom a second time or if I was just nervous (both were true). That first starting corral many years earlier seemed at once so distant and so clear. Now, with an Elite field numberplate affixed to the lightest bike I own and surrounded by the fastest MTB racers in the US I accepted how very unique the moment appears. All on its own. Without the marionette handling of an overbearing storyteller. Where would I stack up in this field? When would I get dropped by the Keegan-train? Will this 34T chain ring be enough? Will I earn this day?

Questions became answers shortly after that dirty cowboy hat fired his shotgun.

I'd be faster than some and slower than many.

I'd get dropped as we started up Kevins.

I'd be spun out on the start as we move past 40mph on the pavement but the 34T would be appreciated as I stayed on the pedals through the Columbine and Powerline climbs.

Yes. I'd earn it but everyone else does too. Every single mile on the Leadville 100 course is earned. You cannot hide from the effort.

While I made arbitrary goals throughout the days leading into this year's Leadville 100 and even as I adjusted, readjusted, and refined the readjustments during the race I met the reality I knew to be true: because I am here right now this moment is uniquely its own. Honoring that fact may be the most succinct way to share why I love this sport. I can be right here, right now, and be 100% myself.

At 42 years old I may have been the oldest rider in that Elite start field. At 42 I wasn't the last Elite racer to return to Leadville a buckle-bearer. I surely wasn't the first. After the cannons exploded on Kevins I rode the entire course alone. No wheel to tuck behind, no body to shield the wind, no rabbit to chase down. Just me and 105 miles of high-alpine, challenging, what-are-you-made-of riding. On a course without any technical limitations riders can seek a maximum return on maximum fitness and maximum effort. At Leadville if you can go harder, you can go harder. A race without a ceiling. A pure test of pure ability. That kept me focused on each mile. "Are you going as good as you can for this part of the course?" was the question I used to keep my effort honest. Did I succeed? Well, if this exploration has been even mildly effective I must admit that I succeeded on this moment, on this version, at this place and time. My 2025 Leadville 100 was a perfect August 9th, 2025 Leadville 100 MTB race completed by me.

But can I do better?

*insert argument about age-related performance decline.

Note: I am not emotionally stable enough to insert the above mentioned argument at this time.

Finish Time: 7:39:31

Personal Record by 14 minutes and 16 seconds... 4 years later... On a longer course.

I told myself that if I had an "Elite" numberplate I wasn't allowed to walk on Powerline.

This course is special. Race it and you'll feel why.

3 more to go...