This weekend just confirmed what I already knew: The Leadville 100 is my favorite race. Up until this weekend I wasn’t really sure why. Was it because I love the unique challenge, or maybe because this race contains some of my favorite memories? While those things certainly contribute, I think the main reason that Leadville is my favorite event is the community. There is really nothing like it.
I think the magnitude of the challenge of this event creates a certain level of vulnerability and vulnerability creates connection and relationship. Each and every racer on that start line can relate to the pain of grinding up powerline, and the relief of seeing the red carpet come into view. It’s an event where it becomes very obvious that we can all chase our own success while simultaneously rooting for the success of others.
I stood on the start line of the Leadville 100 for my 4th go at the event with more hope than ever before. The weeks leading into the race I was crushing my workouts, seeing PRs, and now I was confident that I am the fastest I’ve ever been.
The race started calm and I celebrated in my mind the women’s only start and positive ways in which it was impacting the beginning of the race. As the race abruptly turned uphill and the pace shifted, I felt like my body’s stick shift was stuck. I was figuratively grinding gears as I tried to match the pace. My breathing escalated, my arms went numb, and I was very quickly on the back foot. I told myself I just needed to “ride into it” and surely it would get better. Once the pace settled, I found myself in a chase pack with the likes of Alexis, Haley, Sarah, and more and felt like it would be a highly motivated and well-oiled group. This could still be my day…
As we climbed up Sugarloaf, I lead the group, pushing at the front. I wanted to motivate the group and set a tone as we crested over and started down Powerline. Instead, the rubber band stretched and I found myself toward the front of the group with each person after the next a few bike lengths behind. We re-grouped at the bottom of Powerline and attempted to begin a rotating paceline across Pipeline. At this point I’m aware that I’m going to need to back half this race if I want any chance so I focused on my nutrition, but at the altitudes of Leadville my gut was unhappy. I heeded my own advice though and continued to eat despite the discomfort knowing that it would pay off later in the race.
As we started up Columbine and I attempted to increase my pace, saying in my head “My race starts now.” I was forced to recognize that it just wasn’t my day. I felt “off.” My hip was throbbing, my back was aching, my breathing my labored, my heart rate was sky high and it wasn’t what I had imagined for this race. In hind sight, there are several things I can point to that likely impacted my race and were likely amplified due to the extreme elevations. I quickly had to shift my mindset to “It doesn’t matter.” The truth of the matter is, in racing, it doesn’t matter how you feel. You get it done anyways. In this moment, I was especially thankful for all of those conversations with Enso Mental Performance about that exact thing.
The truth is, it’s the tough days that really show us what we’re made of. I felt shaky, dizzy, achy, but I just had one job: keeping pushing to the finish.
As I descended down Columbine it was a constant stream of people yelling “Go Hannah!” It completely blew me away. On a day where I didn’t feel like the best version of myself, these cheers and these people fueled me to find the best version of myself on that day.
Even though my original placing goals had slipped away, I knew I had to fight for every place I could. Let me tell you, Leadville is a tough day to have a tough day. Never quite finding a rhythm, never finding comfort, always wondering “how” you’ll make it, but knowing that you have to.
In the final hour of the race, I summoned all of the strength I had on the day to make one last move and I secured 8th place.
As I rode toward the finish there were signs to celebrate the winners of each Leadville over the last 30 years. As I rode by the 2022 sign and saw my name I felt choked up as I remembered what that day felt like and I also committed to having another sign on that boulevard in the years to come.
I already can’t wait for Leadville 2025!
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