Growing up, I never wanted to be a movie star. I aspired to be the first woman on Mars, or a doctor of some sort. Movie stardom just did not appeal to the young Leigh. Low and behold, I got to experience a taste of the big screen last weekend when I was selected by Spintertainment to be featured in one of their mountain bike spin videos.

I was forewarned that it would be tedious, exhausting days of riding the same section of trail over and over again to get the shots. I needed to mentally prepare myself to be physically punished. Therefore, I was not expecting to have so much fun.

The trail we settled on, Lenawee, is an utterly perfect trail (in my mind). We start with a sufferfest of a climb up A Basin ski area (to keep out the riff raff). And then we drop into one of the most sweeping, wide open, grin-inducing, and techy descents in Colorado.

Day 1 of 3 started out basically just as Eric Landis had predicted it would. An early morning start. Very cold temperatures. Riding the same section of trail over and over again. Before too long, Eric and Quinn showed me some of their favorite clips. My mind was blown. Even in the raw, on the tiny screens, the images were super crisp, artsy, and motivating. It made me want to ride harder. Eric and Quinn seemed to be tireless as they chased me up A-Basin all day long.

Towards the end of the afternoon, we were getting close to our goal of finishing the climb. Eric was inspired to get a new angle on the summit. So, despite Quinn's very vocal reservations, despite the strong gusts of wind, Eric launched the tiny helicopter and I took off towards the singletrack descent. Thus began our evening of scouring the upper slopes of the A-basin sidecountry looking for a lost, little, helicopter drone. Miraculously, Quinn found the high-tech piece of machinery, safely perched in a pine tree, about 300 feet below the summit.

Day 2 was physically much tougher for me. In addition to pedaling up A-Basin (again), I was rewarded with very short bits of descent, all of which required pushing my bike back up to ride down again. Eventually though, we got into the techy bits. And suddenly filming turned into a delightful session fest for me. Find the fun lines, became my mantra. By this point, I was starting to figure out how far to push my bike back up after each cut. And I was really having a delightful time.

Day 3 was much mellower. We were close to the bottom of the trail the previous evening.  We wanted to wait until afternoon light turned golden before starting to film again. So we had time to devour a very large breakfast of pancakes and eggs and pork green chile. And time to go play at the Frisco Bike Park (where Eric gave me some welcome pointers on cornering and climbing). When we finally got back to finishing filming, it was all business. We finished under perfect conditions. Golden, sideways light flickered through bright yellow aspen leaves for the final scenes. I was completely tired, sore, and ready to get back to my day job where I could rest.

I feel like a movie star. I think the child version of myself may have been wrong. Being a star for 3 days was super fun, and I would like to think I was good at it. I'm looking forward to the off season so I can watch Spintertainment Lenawee on my trainer. I'm also looking forward to training to the other Spintertainment videos coming out sometime in the next couple months.

Most of the summer is little more than a jumbled blur in my scattered, cortisol-laden mind. My dear grandmother passed away in late May and I flew to Wisconsin for the funeral. Then I quickly jetted back to work and racing. After the Glorieta Enduro, I raced the Angel Fire Enduro (NMEC #3) and BME Snowmass. I managed to ride strong and I felt really good about where I finished in each race, 3rd and 4th respectively. The competition was getting pretty tough, and I was exhausted after BME Snowmass in late June.

I'll spare you all the gory details, but on July 3rd, my life changed in a catastrophic way. My husband, Matt, was injured in a helicopter crash while at work as a flight nurse. He was lucky, but had to be flown to Denver for emergency surgery.

The first words he spoke after the anesthesia started wearing off were concerned questions about his co-workers.

Later that night, he started lamenting that our summer biking trip to the Pacific Northwest would have to be cancelled. Then he started telling me that I had to keep racing and stay on the bike, because I could. No pressure.

Despite Matt's wishes, I had a really hard time training for all of July and most of August. By, hard time, I mean it didn't happen. Family came to visit, Matt came home from the hospital, and the summer slipped away before I knew it. Enduro World Series Crested Butte, instead of the culmination of my first year racing pro and a chance to shine in one of my favorite places to ride, ended in tragedy (with the death of a racer), and left all of us questioning why we race. Mid-August found me feeling depressed and not myself.

I knew what needed to happen. I had to get back on the bike and get  normal and happy again. But knowing something doesn't always make it easy to do. Our first free weekend after Matt came home from the hospital left us staring at each other, not entirely sure what to do. Its rather awkward when your best friend can no longer participate in your favorite together activity with you. He offered to shuttle me on a high alpine ride, but I wasn't having it. I was stubborn, inky and tearful. So Matt left to go for a walk with the dogs. And I was stuck with my depressed self. So I loaded up my bike and drove to Leadville to get away from crowds. I found myself headed up the road to Mt Sherman. And then I started pushing my bike up Mt Sherman. I kept pushing until I was riding around on the summit. Somewhere between home and 14,035 feet, I started feeling much better. I texted Matt a summit-selfie. I felt like me again.

On the way up I had my picture taken by kind strangers that were amazed (and probably jealous) that I intended to ride down the mountain. On the summit there was a group of 3 fellas drinking beer and giving me major props. One of them had a hand gun tucked in to the waist of his pants. When I asked him about it, his response was concise and appropriate, "Merica."
The ride down was harrowing. Surfing steep scree and loose dirt will give you forearm pump before you know it. There was actually some hike-a-bike on the way down too. But it was worth it. I needed an adventure in a very bad way.

Suffice it to say that I overcame the inertia. I got back in the saddle about 2 weeks ago. Riding bikes is a magical potion that has the power to cure me.

I'm back to riding and adventuring. So that means I'm back to blogging.
Stay tuned. Here's a taste of what I've been doing for the past 2 weeks.

I look forward to biking more 14ers. But in the meantime, I'm just happy to have my daily dose of bike back in my life.