My dream began in 1993 when I first heard about the Leadville 100-mile Mountain Bike race in Colorado.

I sent for the application, knowing I wouldn't be able to apply as I was in the midst of battling Lyme's Disease. The applications kept coming year after year. Finally this year I decided to apply. It had become such a popular race that it was now a lottery system to be accepted into the race. I thought, what are my chances of being selected? Well, you guessed it, I was picked. My first thought was, what have I got myself into this time? I have done some long-distance races in running, and took a deep breath and told myself I would do the best I could. I knew I had my work cut out for me.

I had been road riding much more than mountain biking and the switch over was difficult. I just wanted to go out and ride my road bike. My technical skills on the mountain bikes are not the best and I knew I would have to work very hard.

Michael and I decided that to go back early and train on the course with the high elevation would be the best thing for me to do. We arrived in Leadville, Colorado, on July 18, 2002. Elevation 10,200. Wow, can I breathe and bike at the same time?

A PRE-RACE

It just happened that they had another race on July 20th (44 miles) so why not try it to see what I can do. What an eye-opener!! I had only been at that elevation for 2 days. The race started by going straight up a 50-yard ski slope!! 50 yards is not much at sea level -- however, at 10 thousand plus it's a difficult task. I pushed my bike as fast as I could up the hill; by the time I got to the top, I was seeing stars: not much oxygen at this altitude.

I jumped on my bike and away I went. I really had a hard time breathing, and I thought this is why I am here; keep on going. The scenery was beautiful, all kinds of old silver/lead mines nestled in the hillsides. We rode 10 miles up a creek bed, very rocky, very difficult. I rode past Michael as he was standing along side the dirt trail. I told him, "I was in way over my head."

Somehow I made it to the turnaround, at around 13,000 feet. All I had to do was retrace my route back over the rocks, mud and rough trails. When I arrived at the finish line, I had been riding 8 hours and 20 minutes to go only 44 miles. The surprising part was I won 1st place for women 50-59. I received a gold mining pan with a silver dollar in it, along with a silver bracelet. Of course, there weren't any other women out there my age, and yes, I had a lot of altitude training to do in the next few weeks for the big race.

MORE TRAINING

The next few days Michael and I tried to figure out the 100-mile course. It took us a while, as the directions were not clearly written. I began my training. In the race I had to do the first 40 miles in four hours or be disqualified. Sounds easy, and it wasn't. Colorado has had a drought and the trails were very rough, sandy, ruddy and rocky. It is hard pack with sand on top. Very slippery riding conditions especially on the downhills and turns. It was going to be very close if I was going to make the cutoff.

In the meantime, as I was training I was attacked by two dogs. I was really scared of the one that was charging me from the front. It was a Germen Shepard and was showing me very big teeth. The other dog looked like a black lab. I have a lab so I wasn't scared of it. Wrong! They worked as a team and the black lab-chow-mix came up from behind me and bit my leg. A puncture wound to the bone. Ouch!! A neighbor informed me the owner worked at the Leadville hospital and I was off to see her. She was very surprised and asked what she could for me, and I said, "pay for the emergency room bill," which she did. The police were called and a report filed. The wound was very sore and a month later the bone still hurts. Back to the training.

The course starts out in the town of Leadville, at 10,200 feet. The first 3 miles are downhill on pavement where it turns into a dirt road and the real race begins. This section is steep, ruddy and rocky with lots of ups and downs. It eventually comes out at Turquoise Lake and you ride 4 miles on pavement as fast as you can downhill. This turns up another dirt road that leads up Sugar Loaf Mountain.

You then have 5 miles of downhill, and I mean downhill, with deep V- type ruts, that you don't want to get your front tire stuck into. This is hard pack with sand on the top and your brakes do not work well on it. Then off past the Fish Hatchery, Gravel Pits and onto the Pipe Line plateau. This is a rocky dirt road, most of which is somewhat flat, and you can ride faster to make up time.

Then out of nowhere steep, dusty rough down hills as you leave the plateau. You come out at Twin Lakes, which is the 40-mile marker. You then start up the last 10 miles uphill, switchbacks, then to single track and rocks that you push your bike over. You end up at Columbine Mine at 12,700 feet. Feels like you are on the moon and it's very windy, cold and above the tree line. This is the turnaround and you backtrack the 50 miles you came on.

So for three weeks I rode on this 100-mile course in different sections. By race day I had covered around 450 miles in training.

RACE DAY

Race morning, 6:30 A.M., 28 degrees, I joined the other 700 crazy riders at the start line. My question to myself, was I going to make the 40-mile cutoff? The shotgun went off and a police car led us down the first 3 miles of pavement.

I didn't wear a jacket, because I couldn't take the time to take it off when it warmed up, so I proudly wore my Sierra Century jersey and I was off. The cold on my legs felt like needles but I knew it would go away. All of my training days it would be raining and thunder and lighting by 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon, but today was different. A cold front had come in and it was going to be clear. I told myself, relax and let it go, I had trained hard for this day and I wanted to do the best I could.

I passed people going uphill. I picked a line and tried to stay on it. With 700 riders picking a line on single track, it can become very difficult. Some people were stopping to take their jackets off; I was glad I wasn't wearing mine. We were coming to some steep downhills, which I was very nervous about. I knew I just had to let it go and go for it.

Then I came to the first crash. This guy was laying there, looking really bad. (Found out later, he had punctured his lung along with a lot of other injuries and had to be air lifted to Denver. Two other riders stopped and strapped him up with bicycle tubes to keep him stable.)

I made it to Turquoise Lake where we had 4 miles of pavement downhill. I pushed it to 42 miles an hour (with knobby tires) and then on up to the top of Sugar Loaf Mountain for another scary downhill. People were crashing in the deep ruts. I carefully made my way downhill, but still trying to let it go without braking to much.

Michael was at the first aid station at 26 miles, I didn't stop as I had to get to mile 40. I waved and kept on going. Finally Twin Lakes was in sight. I crossed the dam, and had made it in 3:40. I couldn't believe I had made it 20 minutes before cutoff. I made a quick stop. Michael filled my camel back, I drank noodle soup and a Pepsi as fast as I could and I was off for the ten-mile climb to the top of Columbine Mine and the turn around.

It was scary going up because the lead riders were on their way back down, and going very fast. I looked at the pros and experts, with youth, legs, lungs, and testosterone and laughed at myself, because at age 56 I was out racing in the same race they were. The last few miles to the top were off pushing my bike and gasping for air. At the very top it turned flat and you ride the ridge to the turn around. I looked up and the medical tent was blowing over the side of the mountain, it was so windy.

I grabbed some soup, power gel and I was off down the hill. It took me 2 1/2 hours to get to the top and 48 minutes to get back to Twin Lakes. This now became a 60-mile cutoff time, and I came in 20 minutes early again. Yes, I made another cutoff deadline. All the steep dirt hills we had come down we were now crawling back up. Slowly.

I made it to the 76-mile cutoff, still in time. Drank more soup and Pepsi, power gel and I was off. I was headed for the steep rutted Power Line and a 5-mile uphill. I walked, I rode and it was very slow. I would ride by people with altitude sickness laying on the dirt trail. I was in the back of the race and it turned pretty ugly for a lot of people. They just couldn't go on. Actually, I felt pretty good and knew I had to go as fast as I could if I was going to make the last cutoff.

I realized I wouldn't make the 12-hour cutoff time, but they allow you to go 13 hours and still become a timed finisher of the race. I was tired and knew I had to let it go. I went downhill over rocks that I wouldn't normally do. Michael was standing about 4 miles from town and I flew by him, and knew I had another 3 miles of dirt uphill to go to get to Leadville.

I hit the pavement and rode to the top of the hill, I could see the finish line, I looked at my watch and it was 13 hours. I rode down the hill as fast as I could to cross the finish like at 13:03!! I had made it in one piece and 3 minutes late!!! Even thought I am not a finisher in the Leadville 100 records, I am a finisher in my heart. I made the 100 miles, even if it was over by 3 minutes.

Approximately 300 people didn't make it as far as I did. 25 were sent to the hospital in Leadville from crashes and one air-lifted to Denver. Michael asked me if I wanted to do it again next year. No, I did the best I could and had fun doing it. This will leave a space open in the lottery for someone else to experience the adventure that I had attempting and finishing Leadville 100-mile mountain bike race.