The 2025 Leadville 100: Finish Line Feels

I shuffled my way in the dark toward a red carpet and a finish line clock. The numbers read twenty plus minutes past 25 hours, and the big belt buckle I was seeking was officially beyond grasp. But I was arriving to the end of the Leadville 100 Trail Run with an almost 3-Hour personal best -- and the magnitude of belief, positivity, and the power of good love behind me.

As I inched closer, my people slipped out from the blackened sidewalks, barely lit by the near-dawn sun, only just starting to illuminate the mountains in a glow of blue. My headlamp jostled as I looked up and around: my pacer Alex driving the pace; Sky and Jon, my crew, clapping in time to my footsteps; Trapper, another pacer from the first few night sections, encouraging me to pick it up for the final stretch; Cindi, a friend, pressing me forward with a bouquet of positive words; Chris, my eyes scanning for him, my partner for life, stepping alongside me and breathing love into my final surge of the 100 mile race.

And there was Hallie, beyond the threshold of the finish, phone in her hand, cheering me in as she captured the moment.

100 miles through the mountains of Leadville, Colorado in 25 hours and 30 minutes.

A single step past the timing mat and the brief shuffle run I had fell to a sharp stop. My hands on my knees, I gasped out a sob. That was it. I was done. I did what I set out to do and I just missed my goal time by 30 minutes.

Reaching up to Chris, I got pulled into a hug and a kiss. I looked around dazed, the shock of no longer being in motion jarring my senses. My feet ached, the tops of them feeling like they had gotten a sledgehammer to them. I was cold and wrapped up in a puffy jacket that Alex fortunately had as we power hiked the last few miles toward town. The caffeine intake from the long night zipped and pulsated in my veins, giving me a shaky, energetic feeling as I took it all in.

Someone suggested a photo with my team of amazing people. A medal was hung around my neck and a belt buckle was pressed into my hand. Someone praised me. Someone else asked how I felt. And Chris wrapped his arm around me and walked me to the closest folding chair. I smiled. I laughed. I talked up the crowd. But inside, I was wrecked. I had given my all to that rugged course and I was ready to let the experience go now that it was over.

A car appeared in the alleyway next to the finish. People hugged me and said goodbye. I somehow found myself in the Airbnb where the day had started less than 30 hours ago -- that 2AM alarm and coffee and breakfast and electrolytes and stretching and pinning on the bib number 815 and eager pre-raced jitters -- all now collapsing into a pile with me in the hot shower. I laid in the tub, unmoving, as the stream of water hit my skin and the dirt slowly released into a swirl down the drain. A can of Mountain Time lager cracked open and 2 celebratory sips were had.

The 2025 Leadville 100 was a dream. Although I set out for a sub-25 hour race and didn't manage it, I know I left what I had on the course and ran the best of my ability on the day. I am proud of the effort, the learnings, and the bravery I had to show up full tilt in the mountains.

More to come on the race but for now: that finish line sure was special.

Me and my crew at the finish of the Leadville 100

Chris and the finish line kiss