Athlete - Robbie Balenger
Leadville was buzzing —perfect weather, cool temps, and a vibe that screamed the end of summer. Everyone is sporting flip-flops, shorts, and all-around good vibes.
Rolling into town late Friday, we missed the prime camping spots and ended up car camping near the start. You win some, you lose some, right? Waking up to that harsh yellow streetlight at 2:45 a.m., we knew it was go-time. Breakfast, a quick attempt at a bathroom break, and we were ready for the 4 a.m. start.
The Goal? A sub-20-hour finish. Robbie was stoked when we linked up pre-race. The sky was lit with stars and the occasional drone—classic. The crew and I were ready... or so we thought. After the start, I dashed back to my car to catch them at Turquoise Lake, where the headlamps create a surreal scene, only to find the car’s tire was flat!
Of course, our adventures never comes without a side of adversity. With just enough air to make it to the gas station, we filled up the tire, hearing that dreaded hiss. At 4 a.m. in Leadville, tire shops were a no-go. So, we did some quick math, calculated the PSI, and decided to send it on a soft flat. Yep, we went for it.
We caught up with Robbie at Outward Bound, mile 23.5, and the crew's energy was through the roof. He rolled in right on time, looking fresh and casual—like it was just another day.
As Robbie pushed on to the next aid station we headed back to the car, but we still had this flat to deal with. We got back to the car and yes, it was still a bit sketchy, but we figured we could make it. Ten miles of bumpy jeep road? No problem, right? (Insert deadpan emoji here.)
Robbie was a machine, hitting the 50-mile out-and-back checkpoint exactly as planned. Elmer could barely keep up with him on the way down, as he practically floated over the rocky scramble. Hope Pass was bone dry, a rare sight for a trail that's usually a mudslide.
On the way down to the trailhead, the tire finally gave out, completely… Why no spare, you ask? Didn’t have one.
With no service, a flat tire, and places to be, things looked grim. But, after two hours of brainstorming, a friendly off-roader came to the rescue with an air compressor. Luck was on our side, and we aired up the tire to keep rolling.
Meanwhile, Robbie hit Twin Lakes and picked up his first pacer, our buddy Will (you might recognize him from running across the U.S. or modeling on some billboard). By 8 p.m., they were at mile 73, and Robbie had picked up the pace, still on track for a 20-hour finish. Just 27 miles to go—what could go wrong?
How about not being able to keep any food down?
100 milers are a unique beast—no amount of training can prepare you for everything. It’s a full mind and body experience, requiring not just physical strength but serious mental grit.
The last 10 miles were a death march. Fun? Not at all. But did he finish? Absolutely. Robbie crossed the line at 23 hours and 47 minutes, and we found the tire fully flat a block away. But hey, we made it.
