Life Time Little Sugar MTB and Big Sugar Gravel

When: October 12 and 18, 2025, respectively

Where: Bentonville, Ark.

How to Register: Registration for both events opens Feb. 24, 2025, for Life Time members and March 3, 2025, for the general public. Register here. Foundation Athlete-eligible races.

The Life Time Little Sugar MTB offers three distances: 20K, 50K, and 100K. The 20K course is fast, fun, and designed for cyclists of all ages; the 50K course tackles the hollers and ravines of Bentonville and Bella Vista; and the 100K features grinding climbs, rolling descents, and technical rock features. This event is an option for riders looking to join in on the fun in Northwest Arkansas — but at less intimidating distances.

Life Time Big Sugar Gravel is one of the last events of the biking year and many athletes wind down their season with this race. There are two distances to choose from: 50 miles and 100 miles.

“It’s not an easy course, but it is fun” says Duffy Smith. “There is chunky gravel and hills. Because of when this race takes place, fall colors are typically in full swing through the canopy-covered roads.”

The most unique aspect on the course is the Whistling Springs Brewery. Athletes can stop there for an aid station, but many riders pull over to socialize with friends over a beer. “The finish festival feels like a party, although the atmosphere is full of energy the entire weekend,” says Duffy Smith.

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Life Time Austin Rattler MTB and Run

When: November 8, 2025

Where: Burnet, Texas

How to Register: Registration opens Jan. 1, 2025, for Life Time members, and Jan. 8, 2025, for the general public. Register here for the Austin Rattler MTB; register here for the Austin Rattler Run.

The Life Time Austin Rattler races are held at Reveille Peak Ranch, a 1,300-acre adventure ranch in the Texas Hill Country that hosts mountain biking, trail running, camping, and many other outdoor events. There are three distances for the bike races — 20 miles, 40 miles, and 60 miles — and three distances for the run — 10 miles, 20 miles, and a 50K.

Right outside of the hustle and bustle of Austin, Texas, this venue is unique. Many athletes come and stay for the whole weekend — they camp, ride, and run, and some even bring the whole family.

“We host a Texas-style party afterward with BBQ, live music, and tons of Austin culture,” says Cross. “We encourage folks to stay a while, drink some beer, and just enjoy the experience all weekend long.”

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Life Time Turkey Trot Chicago 5K and 8K and Life Time Turkey Trot Miami 5K and 10K and Kids Race

When: November 27, 2025

Where: Chicago, Ill., and Miami, Fla., respectively

How to Register: Registration for both events opens May 7, 2025, for Life Time members and May 14, 2025, for the general public. Register here for the Turkey Trot Chicago; register here for the Turkey Trot Miami.

The Turkey Trot Chicago takes place in Lincoln Park and welcomes runners, joggers, and walkers of all ages and paces. There are two race distances to choose from: a 5K and an 8K. Cross the finish line and enjoy hot apple cider while you warm up after the race.

The Life Time Turkey Trot Miami hosts three different races: a 5K, 10K, and a Kids Race, with the Kids Race distance dependent on the age of your child. Once the race is over, enjoy the holiday-themed finish festival featuring food, games, and entertainment — you can even snap a photo with the 20-foot Perky Turkey!

“These races are a great way for you and the family to kick off Thanksgiving on a healthy note,” says Bailey. “It’s a tradition that many look forward to year after year.”

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Barbara Powell is a middle child — born seventh of 12 brothers and sisters. Growing up, she was “allowed” to run track and cross country because that was the activity choice of the rest of her siblings; any other extracurricular sport was off the table. So run she did.

“My household had no TV or computer,” Powell, 34, recalls of her childhood on a piece of farmland in Western Massachusetts. “We grew up very connected with each other and spent so much time playing outside. I’m grateful for that.”

When she was about 10, Powell — wearing hand-me-down shoes a size too big — set out on her first run with her dad. She remembers the crunch of her feet against the ground, the reflection of the sunlit trees, the smell of hot pine, and the conversations with her dad. “I fell deeply in love with running that day and have not shaken it since,” she says.

Little did Powell know that those first steps on the pavement would lead her to later pursue ultrarunning — and one day train for a 100-mile race in the mountains of Colorado.

Growing Her Foundation

In her mid 20s, Powell moved from the East Coast to the Midwest to pursue her master’s degree in integrative health and well-being at the Center for Spirituality and Healing at the University of Minnesota. She became board-certified in Integrative Health Coaching in 2019.

Upon graduation in 2020, Powell learned about Life Time Mind, a new-at-the-time holistic performance-coaching program for team members at Life Time. “It felt like one of those kismet moments. The position was a great fit from the beginning and I’m still doing that work,” she says.

“The coaching I do with people on a regular basis is similar to the coaching I’m constantly doing with myself,” Powell explains. “For example, there are times in the middle of a hard run when I may start to feel sorry for myself. In those moments I work to shift gears mentally to a place of gratitude. I remind myself, You are in this beautiful location with all these sensory experiences — and then my mindset shifts for the better.”

Training for and competing in races — 5Ks, half marathons, marathons, 50Ks, and 50-milers — were a regular part of Powell’s schedule in her 20s and early 30s. “I like to think the universe opens doors for us and we can either choose to walk through them or not,” she says. “Personally, I love walking through new doors — it gives me a chance to learn about who I am and grow in new ways. Running just happened to be my mode of transportation through those doors. My first half marathon, marathon, and ultrarace were all invitations I decided to say ‘yes’ to.”

Powell ran her marathon personal best at the Boston Marathon in 2016, crossing the finish line in 3 hours and 24 minutes. She placed third in her age group at the Birkie Marathon in 2021 — even though she accidentally took a wrong turn and ran 29 miles instead of 26.2. She likes to think of that as her first ultradistance race on accident.

In 2022, Powell ran her first 50-mile race, along with five 50K races. So far in 2023, she’s run the Prairie Spirit 50-miler (as well as other shorter races), placing first in her age group and second overall for women.

Connecting to a Cause

Through working at Life Time, Powell discovered the Life Time Foundation, the nonprofit that partners with schools and community organizations across the nation with the goal of improving youth health through nutrition and movement. (Read “A Q&A With the Life Time Foundation” to learn more.) She knew she wanted to be involved.

“Movement and nutrition were paramount in my childhood,” Powell says. “I had the privilege of having access to movement programs that were safe and provided me opportunity to develop and grow as a person. With nutrition, my dad had a huge garden, and so we always had nourishing food available and knew where our food came from.”

To support its mission, the Life Time Foundation partners with athletes who fundraise and then compete at iconic endurance events. Powell officially partnered with the organization in 2022 and set the goal of training for and completing the Leadville 100-mile race — her first-ever 100-miler — in August 2023. “The Life Time Foundation is an organization I can really get behind and use my love for running for impactful good,” says Powell. (You can view Powell’s athlete page to learn more about her fundraising efforts.)

The Leadville 100-mile is a feat: Runners start at 10,200 feet and travel through extreme Rocky Mountain terrain, climbing up to 12,600 feet. “I’ve matured and my running has evolved,” says Powell. “You move up in distance and you experience what it feels like to go farther and farther. Ultrarunning is intriguing to me. So much of it is an individual endeavor, and there’s a deep connection to nature and being outdoors. I’m really drawn to that lifestyle.”

Moving to the Mountains

Training for Leadville has been a primary focus for Powell — so much so that she packed up her 2001 Subaru Forester and drove just under 1,000 miles to move from her home in Minneapolis, Minn., to Alma, Colo., for the five months leading up to race day. She chose Alma so she could consistently train at a high altitude (the town sits at 10,361 feet and her chosen home in it sits at 11,000 feet).

Powell also hired a coach, Greg, who creates her training schedule and with whom she connects over text and phone calls, and through the Final Surge app. “You have to respect the distance. You have to respect the mountains. And you have to respect the terrain,” says Powell. “I am challenged to put my ego aside and prepare well for this.”

Reflecting on her time living in Colorado — and since regularly running at elevations of 9,000 to 10,000 feet — Powell says it’s been a time of learning and acclimation. “My body is learning to breathe right and my heart is getting used to pumping this hard,” she says. “My body needs to move differently in this altitude.”

As part of her training program, Powell is focusing on mileage increases. “I have building blocks where I’ll run 30 miles on a Saturday and 20 miles on a Sunday,” she explains. “Those back-to-back long runs help increase my mileage and endurance.”

Some weeks Powell runs a total of 80 miles, while other weeks she backs off and runs closer to 20 miles to recover. She also signed up for a few “test races,” including the Leadville Marathon and the Silver Rush 50. “Every run has a purpose,” she says. “Some are at an easier pace to keep my engine running without risking injury, and others practice distance or pacing.”

In addition to running, Powell strength trains one to two times a week, focusing on movements like squats, deadlifts, lunges, and shrugs, and strengthening her core and back. She also includes intentional recovery efforts.

“I benefit from hard-training efforts when I recover well,” she says. “I’ve been religious about getting seven to nine hours of sleep each night. I journal in the morning to work through my emotions. I foam roll and do yoga. I’ve had reiki and massage work done. And I also allow myself time to not think about training — and instead get lost in a book or go to a brewery for live music.”

Along with the physical challenge, Powell is also embracing the mental test of ultrarunning. “Running gives us this platform to listen to our bodies to determine what we need if we’re going to move forward, especially when we’re at 20 miles, 30 miles, and so on,” she says. “Our bodies are going to request things from us, and we have to be diligent enough to listen and respond in wise ways.”

Powell says that her training rarely feels like a hassle because of her passion for it. “I love running,” she says. “It fits into my day. It’s part of who I am. Even on days when I’m tired and maybe don’t feel like running, I go because I know in my heart that I won’t regret it.”

The 2023 Leadville 100-mile race is on August 19 and Powell will continue training up through race day. “I’m excited to have some really important people in my life be present there to support me,” she says. “I do have goals in terms of finish time, but my training will show if those goals are realistic. I just want to be able to finish my first-ever 100 with gratitude.”

No matter how she performs though, Powell knows that running has already given her something greater than any finish time ever could. “The sport has taught me patience, courage, and how to access joy. It’s assisted me through my biggest life challenges and helped me build resiliency. It’s given me the best friendships. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I would not be who I am today without running.”

Powell’s 5 Tips for Going After a Big Training Goal

1. Be true to you. Each person has their own unique set of values. Ask yourself, “Does this goal resonate with what’s important to me?” Stay aligned to who you are and what you want.

2. Respect — and love! — the process to get there. You experience more moments as part of the training than you do during the big day itself. The journey matters.

3. Your goal is what you’re doing, not who you are. Your identity and worth are not dependent on this goal.

4. Prepare for bumps and bruises. Life doesn’t always go according to plan, and goals can get sidelined. Show up for yourself in those moments with care. And hold close the people you have in your corner to support you.

Enjoy yourself! It’s a privilege to pursue a big training goal. Even in the toughest moments, there is always something to smile about. Notice as many joys as you can.

Get more advice from Powell: “5 Ways to Train Like an Athlete”

On a dark, frigid morning in St. Paul, Minn., Anne Hed, CEO and co-founder of HED Cycling, woke her son, Andrew. It was 5 a.m. — hours before the December sun would rise amid the long Minnesota winter — but this was urgent.

“You’re getting on a plane today,” Anne told her then-26-year-old son. “Rach needs a wheel.”

Before waking up Andrew, Anne had received a call from one of HED Cycling’s top triathletes: four-time Ironman 70.3 champion, Rachel “Rach” McBride, a.k.a. the “Purple Tiger.” When McBride had arrived in Florida for the 2021 CLASH Endurance Daytona the day before, they’d found a broken part on one of their bike wheels. Without the wheel, McBride couldn’t race — so they called Anne.

A few hours later, Andrew boarded a flight from sub-zero Minneapolis to tropical Daytona Beach, where he hand-delivered the new wheel to McBride at the start line of Daytona Speedway. Later that afternoon, McBride finished with a time of 3:37:51 — good enough for seventh place — all of their wheels still in-tact.

For Anne, a last-minute, transcontinental flight to deliver a single wheel to a single athlete wasn’t a difficult decision. “I just wanted to make sure Rach had the best equipment,” she says. “I was concerned, so we just brought them one.”

Rach McBride (left) pictured with Andrew Hed (right)

From the very beginning, the people — not the wheels — have defined Anne’s tenure at HED. Beyond designing and engineering “the best carbon fiber bike wheels since 1984” (which she loves to do, by the way), Anne views her primary role as an investor in people.

As part of our interview, Anne gives me a tour of the HED manufacturing facility in Roseville, Minn. Before walking the manufacturing floor or peeking into the freezer filled with pre-molded carbon fiber, though, Anne pulls up a list on a conference-room monitor; on it, the lineup of HED-sponsored athletes.

As Anne scrolls through the names, she smiles, pausing intentionally on each athlete. “Lionel Sanders is one of the most-loved athletes in the sport,” Anne says, stopping on Sanders’ picture.

“Annie Davis did the 350-mile XL at UNBOUND,” she explains, referring to the 2022 Life Time Garmin UNBOUND Gravel presented by Craft in June 2022 in Emporia, Kan.

“Clara Brown is a para-athlete for cycling,” Anne continues. “Danielle Larson just won a big gravel race out in Europe. Emilio [Aguayo], Eneko [Llanos], and Ivan [Rana Fuentes] are our European triathletes. Jocelyn McCauley’s a mother of two who is doing an Ironman. Johnny Purvis is a gravel guy. Magnus Ditlev is our newest athlete — he’s ranked No.3 in the world.”

Among the expansive and impressive list of HED athletes runs a common thread: firsts. Cody Beals is the first openly gay male professional triathlete. Sika Henry is the first Black female professional triathlete in the United States. Chris Nikic is the first person with Down syndrome to finish an Ironman.

And then there’s Rach McBride, the first professional triathlete to come out as gender non-binary. “If you look at Rach, the ‘Purple Tiger,’ you think you’re gonna get, ‘grrrr,’” says Anne. “But I was just astounded at the demeanor of this amazing, brilliant, and kind individual.

“We are very diverse with our choice of athletes at HED, but it just kind of happened. It’s not like I was out saying, ‘Let’s make our company diverse.’ Cody approached me, and so did Rach. I met Sika at an all-women’s summit. I just look at these folks as wonderful people from all walks of life. They’re all beautiful individuals.”

For Anne, that common thread runs deeper than ethnicity, gender identity, or ability. It’s not about what makes HED athletes different, but rather, what they share. When Anne looks through that list, she sees a group of athletes who have battled through life and overcome hurdles — and it’s where her own story intersects.

“Life is tough,” Anne says. “We’ve all lived adversity.”

Anne Hed (left) pictured with Marilyn Franzen (right)

An Athlete in Her Own Right

When Anne was 13, her parents decided to divorce. In search of an outlet to deal with the emotions caused by the change in her family, she turned to sports. Since she didn’t yet have one that interested her, she focused initially on something with limited barriers to entry — swimming.

“I thought, ‘Well, anybody can make the swim team,’” Anne recalls. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. Of the 30 girls who tried out, 28 made the team. Anne was number 29. But the disappointment didn’t stop her.

“When you don’t make a team, it makes you go, ‘Well, gosh, I want to be a swimmer.’” Fueled by this new goal, Anne joined her local YMCA, where she started training with the head swim coach, Marilyn Franzen, who also served as race director for the Aquatennial Triathlon (which eventually became the Life Time Triathlon in 1990).

“Marilyn taught me how to swim fast,” Anne said.

Day after day, Anne returned to train with Franzen, shaving seconds off her lap time with every visit. Two years into her training, Anne broke a pool record that still holds today.

With each new training session, her passion for swimming — and eventually, triathlon — grew stronger. In 1981, she competed in her first triathlon in Hurley, Wis., and in 1983, she qualified for her first (of seven) Ironman World Championships in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.

But Anne had a problem: Since she wasn’t (yet) a professional triathlete, she couldn’t pay her entry fee or travel expenses for Kona. She didn’t own an Ironman-quality bike, either.

Knowing Anne was in search of a solution, one of her friends referred her to Steve Hed, the owner of Grand Performance, a small bike shop in the Twin Cities. “I was waitressing at the time, and I went to Steve’s store,” Anne told Forbes in November 2016. “He was barefoot, shirtless, covered in grease and had permed magenta hair. He pulled out a check, wrote it to me, and it didn’t bounce. That was my entry into the Hawaiian Ironman.”

Steve Hed (left) pictured with Anne Hed (right) racing the Kona Ironman

They’d only just met, but Steve fronted the $100 entry fee and gave Anne a bike. In a sport where only 10 percent of athletes were women, Anne had found herself a sponsor — and, eventually, a boyfriend who would later become her husband.

Beyond covering her expenses and providing gear, Steve also started tinkering with new wheel designs for Anne to ride at her events. “When he saw that the set of double-disc wheels Francesco Moser used to break the hour record were $6,000 a piece, he was like, ‘I really believe we can make something more affordable.’” So that’s what he did.

Equipped with Steve’s new wheels, Anne started winning more races, which got her thinking: “We need some money to make more of these,” she told Steve.

A few months and races later, Anne won a brand-new Subaru as a prize at the Steel-Man Triathlon in Brattleboro, Vt. She used the new ride as collateral to take out a $14,000 loan, and in 1984, Anne and Steve cofounded HED Cycling out of Steve’s garage.

People Before Wheels

From that first set of wheels, the mission of HED cycling remained not on the speed, accolades, or aerodynamics, but on the people. It’s right there in their online bio: “Creating an improved riding experience for every rider.”

“Steve used to travel all over the world to help athletes,” Anne says. “We both came from pretty humble beginnings, and we had to start this just by ourselves. It wasn’t like we had anybody else helping us.”

For many of those early years, Anne and Steve took on the task of “revolutionizing cycling” by themselves. To earn extra income, Anne worked as a salesperson at U.S. Swim and Fitness, which was eventually acquired by Life Time, and became one of their sponsored athletes. In 1989, Anne ended her professional triathlon career to join Steve full-time at HED.

Together, they designed and engineered the fastest wheels in the world — Steve inventing, Anne getting wheels out the door — growing the company from two to 40 over the next 35 years and becoming one of the most respected cycling brands in the industry.

In 2014, the Heds broke new ground: building bike frames. The cycling minds at Cervélo needed a U.S.-based carbon fiber manufacturer, so they approached Anne and Steve about making a frame for their upcoming Cervelo P5X. On the same day Steve met with the engineers, however, the unthinkable happened.

“Steve called me when their engineers were here and said, ‘Anne, we made it. It’s beautiful and it works, and they want us to make their frame,’” Anne told Forbes in November 2016. “That was the very last conversation I ever had with him. He was so happy, like a kid. Then the next phone call I got was, ‘Anne, you’ve got to get to work, Steve collapsed.’”

Outside the HED facilities, Steve collapsed and never woke up. He had a virus in his heart. After 25 years of marriage and building a world-class company from the ground up together, Steve was gone. In one unexpectedly absent heartbeat, Anne had to start this new project, move the company to a new facility, and step into the role of CEO — all without her lifelong partner.

“Life is hard,” Anne says. “I’ve had my ups and downs. You’ve just got to put your foot in front of the next one the next day and just keep moving along. You have to keep being persistent in life. Don’t give up.”

As Anne stepped into her new role as the face of HED Cycling, she quickly learned the value of quality people. In the days, months, and years after Steve’s passing, Anne continued to put one foot in front of the other, fueled by the familiar faces who surrounded her, who’d always been there: her family, her staff, and her athletes.

“I don’t want to do it by myself,” Anne notes. “I don’t want to continue this company alone. I’ve had staff that’s been with me for over 25 years, and collectively, it’s amazing what you can do together.”

Step by step, day by day, Anne and her team moved HED Cycling forward as one of the only woman-owned companies in the cycling industry. In 2016, HED and Cervélo launched the P5X, the frame Steve had been working on when he passed. Later that year, HED launched the VOLO — the wheels on which Team USA’s women’s track team competed at the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

“How many times can you reinvent the wheel?” Anne says. “But we did.”

Bringing People Together

Back at the HED facility in Roseville, Anne thinks back on her decision to deliver a wheel to McBride on that early December morning, remembering her own time as a sponsored athlete.

“I’ve been there,” Anne recalls. “I’ve had sponsors throughout my life that have done special things for me. Life Time, for instance, helped pay my health insurance as a young athlete. The organization has just been part of my life ever since I started this sport.”

From the start to today, the stories of Life Time and HED Cycling have intertwined — specifically, in their shared focus on diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI). As Anne supports athletes like McBride, Sika Henry, and Cody Beals, Life Time has also created a non-binary category for all of its Athletic Events.

And just as the healthy-way-of-life company works to ensure everyone can find a place at its start lines, fitness classes, and athletic country clubs, Anne also seeks to empower people from all backgrounds and circumstances — and not just athletes.

“Thirty percent of our workforce is female in manufacturing, which is really rare,” she says. “We’re really proud of the people we’ve hired. Some of them have degrees in engineering, but I am so proud when I find a young person, teach them a skill, and give them a livable wage and something they can be proud of when they walk out of here. It’s not just about making a wheel to me. It’s about providing jobs and supporting all walks of life.”

In the end (and from the beginning), it all comes back to the people. “I’m just in awe of where they’ve journeyed and what their journeys have been like,” she says. “All of our journeys are different. All you can do is just embrace it and support them, whatever walk or journey they’re going on or how difficult it gets, because we all need that.”

As for McBride, they finished first in the non-binary category at three iconic Life Time events in 2022: Garmin UNBOUND Gravel presented by Craft, Crusher in the Tushar presented by The Creamery, and the Stages Cycling Leadville Trail 100 MTB. They’re 44 years old, but they’re not done yet — not even close — and Anne plans to be with them every step (and pedal) of the way.

“I believe we’ll look back years from now and consider Rach a pioneer,” Anne says. “I know they’re opening doors now, but when my grandchild’s sitting on my lap in however many years, I can say, ‘Yeah, that was one of our athletes, and look at what they’ve done.’”

That’s the thing about sports — cycling, swimming, running: Across all different backgrounds, stories, ethnicities, sexual orientations, and every other definable characteristic, they bring us together.

“It doesn’t matter where you came from or where you’re going,” Anne says. “We all have this love of sport, and it can unite us.”

Heading into the 100-mile Big Sugar Gravel bike race, Haley Hunter Smith knew the winning title of the Grand Prix series was hers to lose. “Mathematically, the only way I wouldn’t win the entire series was if one of two other women took first place at Big Sugar,” Smith recalls. “Once we were halfway through the race, I realized that wasn’t going to happen. I was able to sit at the front of my group of riders and just enjoy the rest.”

Winning the women’s division of the renowned off-road cycling series — in which the best riders in the country compete in multiple races for prize money — was the culmination of months of training and dedication for Smith upon returning to the sport after some time away.

It was also a celebration of how far she’d come in biking career, which had begun during one of the hardest periods in her life.

A Bumpy Ride

Smith, 29, describes her childhood in the small town of Uxbridge, Ontario, as “pretty amazing.” “My parents made such a great life for us,” she says. “My brother and sister and I grew up in our home in the woods, on a few acres of land my parents owned. We played all the sports we wanted.”

Smith enjoyed dancing and playing ice hockey both on a team and for fun. As she got older, though, life brought some challenges to the surface, and in ninth grade, she was hospitalized and diagnosed with mental illness. “I was very anxious growing up,” she recalls. “When I went to high school, that transition sent things out of control for me, and my anxiety sharpened into a food focus. I was originally diagnosed with anxiety and anorexia. Since then, I’ve been re-diagnosed with anxiety and orthorexia.”

When she was released from the hospital, Smith picked up biking. “My dad and brother biked recreationally, and they just loved to ride,” she explains. “I started riding along with them for fun, but I soon learned it was the only thing that made me feel better from my mental illness.”

Smith also worked with a psychologist and psychiatrist and practiced yoga and mindfulness to help manage her diagnoses. “Nothing was as powerful as the bike, though,” she adds. “Being outside grounds me and makes me feel less anxious. I can just breathe.”

After a few years of riding recreationally, Smith — who describes herself as a naturally competitive person — started racing at 17 years old.

“My growth in biking was incremental,” she says. “I started out riding in a Thursday night race series, which is very similar to a pickup hockey game — it’s very casual. Then I started racing in Ontario Cup events. Then, I moved to Canada Cup races.”

From there, she progressed to the Canadian Mountain Bike National Championships in Canmore, Alberta in 2011, before being invited to participate in some World Cups.

By the time Smith was 20 years old in 2013, she was on the professional circuit — and had set her sights on the 2020 Olympics.

For nearly seven years, Smith trained for the world’s largest stage and continued to ride and compete full-time. “I was experiencing a general upward trend in my performance and qualified for the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo,” she says.

Smith competed, but the games didn’t go quite as she had dreamed. “I was drowning in pressure, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was struggling so much,” she shares.

She finished in a disappointing 29th place — she had typically placed in the top 10 during the qualification period. “I struggled with the pressure and scrutiny that came with competing, and honestly, just really underperformed. It was emotionally, mentally, and physically a lot to handle — and that’s on top of it also being the time of the pandemic. I just didn’t handle it well. I was working with a psychologist and several other performance specialists — a dietitian, physiologist, therapist, etc. — throughout the whole Olympic quadrennial.”

Reflecting on the experience, Smith says she’s learned that really challenging life scenarios like those she experienced around the Olympic Games can bring thinking and actions related to her eating disorder back to the forefront of her mind without her realizing it. So, she decided to step away from the Olympic discipline of mountain biking for a while.

“A few years ago, I would have said I’ve overcome my eating disorder,” says Smith. “Now, I’m not so naive. The thought and behavior patterns that are characteristics of my eating disorder are deeply ingrained, and though those pathways may become buried or disused, they’re still there. I think it’s something I will always have to be aware of and work around. Practicing self-awareness is key.

“Sometimes that looks like a formal meditation practice, and other times it’s just through journaling. Or it’s more of an underlying ‘way of thinking.’ And I’ll be honest, I haven’t formally meditated since the Olympics. It just doesn’t flow for me right now. I’m confident I’ll get into that practice at some point, though, but right now my practice is more informal and unstructured.”

While biking’s place in Smith’s life has only grown over the years, the healing it’s brought as a tool to support her mental health has remained. We spoke with Smith to learn more about her passion for mental wellness and what she’s doing to make a difference in others.

Q&A With Haley Smith

Life Time Editorial | You’re dedicated to helping others who struggle with their mental health. Can you explain why that is and some of the things you’ve done?

Haley Hunter Smith | I’ve been living with my diagnosis since I was young. I go through periods when I feel like I have great mental health, and periods when I feel like I have terrible mental health. I knew people must be able to relate to me.

I realized that I had an opportunity to show kids they don’t have to be defined by a diagnosis and that they can achieve whatever they want. The only thing they need to do is have a dream and have the courage to pursue it. That became my purpose, and my mountain bike became the method.

I started to speak publicly about it in my early 20s, and that was scary at first. But when I went through the worst of my struggles in ninth grade, I was so alone because nobody talked about that kind of stuff yet. It was “pre-destigmatization” era.

And I know for sure that, statistically, there had to have been other girls and women I knew going through something like that. At the time, though, because no one talked about it, I didn’t know a single other person who had experienced that sort of mental-health struggle.

So, I made a choice that I would do whatever was in my power to make sure no one else went through it the same way I did, feeling isolated and like they’re “crazy.”

I spoke at local clubs to raise awareness and reach girls, specifically, who might not otherwise have been reached. It progressed from there and became like a pro-bono volunteer speaking gig that I would do.

Through that, I ended up being connected with a lot of people who were going through something similar for one-on-one mentor relationships. That’s something that has been really challenging but fulfilling for me.

There’s also an organization called Cam’s Kids that helps kids manage anxiety, and I helped launch that organization as their first youth ambassador.

I’m currently advancing my education in hopes of continuing to make a difference. I chose to go into sports psychology for my master’s and am in a lab (also referred to as a research group) that focuses on youth development. This is a group of master’s and doctoral students and faculty members who conduct qualitative and quantitative research into youth development through sport.

I hope that in the future I can make impacts on sports policies and sports delivery — the providing of sports as an experience and opportunity for youth in terms of programming, leagues, etc.— so kids are given a better outlook and more mental-health skills when they’re younger. I also hope to impact the media’s representation of sports.

LTE | What skills have you learned from your life experience that enables you to help other people?

HHS | First of all, eating disorders like anorexia and orthorexia don’t make sense. It is counter to evolution for your brain to try and starve you to death. You will likely never feel understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it because they often can’t get it fully.

That’s something I get a lot of feedback on from girls — although sometimes boys do come up to me as well, but I see it more with girls: They’ll often say to me, “Wow, no one has ever said exactly how I feel.” I think that’s a unique aspect of these types of diseases.

I’ve reached a point in my life where I’ve had 14 years to make sense of my mental-health struggles, so I have a relatively concrete conceptualization of what I go through and what happened to me. I think I understand it relatively well and I’m willing to be very open about it.

I feel a responsibility to share my story. I’m driven to share it. That’s probably the biggest part about what I bring to others; it’s not just a willingness to share, but I believe this is part of my purpose.

LTE | What advice would you give to someone who is struggling with their mental health, or knows someone who is struggling with these issues?

HHS | The first step is to tell somebody. It will make the situation so much better, and it takes courage to do that. If you can even just tell one person, that is the first step to finding support for your journey to better mental well-being.

You don’t deserve to feel this way, you don’t have to feel this way, and you don’t have to be a prisoner to this disordered way of thinking. If you can take that first step and share what you’re feeling with someone, I highly encourage you to do it.

LTE | What have Life Time races meant to you?

HHS | I was first introduced to the Life Time cycle events, which have brought relief and enjoyment for me in recent years, through the Life Time Sea Otter Classic, which I’ve raced nearly every year — with the exception of peak COVID years — since 2012. This race is even where I met my husband, Andrew L’Esperance, who is also a professional cyclist.

The race intrigued me to try other Life Time events. Racing for about 90 minutes was routine for me, so riding UNBOUND for 11 hours and the Leadville Trail 100 MTB for seven hours in the mountains in Colorado, was wild. The physical challenges were monumental, and I’m really surprised that I got through them. They were so fun.

I credit some of my achievements to the social aspect of racing. During a race, you come together with other people for a moment in time, even if you’re not on the same team. I just love the camaraderie and the cooperation. It feels like you’re in it with the people around you to get you through it.

My husband and I actually both competed in the Life Time Grand Prix in 2022. Each rider had to commit to racing at least five out of the six races in the calendar year, and their results from each race combined for a grand total at the end of the season, determining both a men’s and women’s winner.

LTE | What’s next for you with riding?

HHS | I haven’t fully made up my mind yet if I’ll pursue the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris. Right now, I feel very motivated by the kind of racing that I get to do in the Life Time cycling series. It feels more fulfilling, particularly socially, although I do have Olympic dreams deep down. It’s just not a goal that I can force; I have to be gentle with that goal because my first experience was kind of traumatic.

LTE | You found biking to be therapeutic for you. What advice would you give to someone who wants to try biking for the first time?

HHS | Don’t be intimidated. It’s supposed to be fun, and it doesn’t matter if you’re not wearing the “right” gear or if you look goofy. It’s just a fun thing to do and it’s great for your mental and physical health.

An easy way to get into biking is through gravel or riding on rail trails. It’s a little safer and you don’t have to worry about traffic. I’d say just don’t be intimidated and give it a try. Don’t worry about what you look like or if you feel like you don’t belong on a bike because the answer is yes, you belong.

Alexey Vermeulen was always an active kid. Growing in Dexter, Mich., he spent time playing ice hockey and soccer, swimming with his brothers, and biking with his parents. “When I was 10 years old, my mom was doing triathlons and I decided to join her for fun, starting with kids’ triathlons and moving up to Olympic distances,” explains Vermeulen, 27. “I enjoyed the running and the cycling, but I did not enjoy the swimming as much. And although I liked cycling, that event didn’t start a fire within me — though I do recall loving the feeling of going fast and being able to see places while riding.”

That spark grew slowly and as he began biking with his grandfather — or “Opa,” as he lovingly referred to him — who rode bikes semi-professionally in Holland. “I was inspired by his passion for the bike,” recalls Vermeulen. “One time I rode more than 30 miles with him and my dad. He would place his hand on my back when I started to get weary. I was only 12 then.”

That was a common occurrence when riding with his Opa. “I could be completely exhausted, barely pedaling, and he’d motivate me home,” says Vermeulen. “I would start to fall back, and I’d feel a hand on me. He’d push me, I’d pedal as hard as I could for 15 to 30 seconds, then I’d fall back into his hand and repeat again. My Opa passed away before he was able to see my bike career progress, but he has still been with me throughout my career — in my heart.”

Despite his grandfather’s influence and encouragement, it took a while longer for Vermeulen to fully commit to cycling. “I was a decent runner, so I pursued cross country,” he says. “I was good enough that I thought I had a shot to get a scholarship at a big school. But I also entered a few cycling races, too.”

Those bike races took Vermeulen to states like New York and Vermont, and his family used them as opportunities to turn a race into a road-trip vacation. “The places we went weren’t super far, but it was different from what all my friends were doing on the weekends,” says Vermeulen. “I fell in love with the travel and the journey that cycling provided me.”

In 2011, during his sophomore year of high school, things began to change when Vermeulen competed in the USA Road National Championships for his age group in Augusta, Ga. — and won. “I think that was the moment it was clear to me that I could do this seriously. It also gave me the chance to go to Europe for the first time to compete,” he says.

But there was one obstacle to the overseas adventure: high school. “I was 16, and I remember convincing my principal that it was a good idea for me to spend three weeks in Europe,” Vermeulen says. “I promised him I would learn about life during that experience.”

Three weeks turned into almost two months. Vermeulen’s European trip ended with placing 56th out of 146 riders at the World Championships in Copenhagen, Denmark. “In that moment, I decided that I wanted to pursue cycling and see how far it could take me,” recalls Vermeulen. “And on the side, it was fun bringing home crazy stories to tell my friends.”

Vermeulen worked with the school to find a way to take his classes but also have the flexibility to travel to Europe so he could compete. “I needed to continue competing in Europe,” says Vermeulen. “That’s where the best racers were.”

The principal let him take online classes when he was traveling, and always reserved a seat for him in the classroom when he was there to attend in person. “When I returned from traveling, I could walk right into orchestra class like nothing happened,” he says. “It allowed me to still feel like a high school kid. I would be riding in Europe and then come back and run cross country at my school and be with my classmates. It was incredible.”

As high school concluded and Vermeulen turned 18, he also turned professional, which meant he could start making money for riding. “I had contract offers on the table,” says Vermeulen. “I accepted a contract with BMC Development Team and rode with them for three years.”

Photo by Wil Matthews

During this time, he lived and competed in Europe, achieving accomplishments that included placing sixth overall in the Course de la Paix U23 and seventh overall in the Ronde de I’Isard. He also raced in multiple rides as a National Road Championship team member.

“Then when I was 21 years old, I signed with the UCI World Tour, which is the highest level of cycling,” says Vermeulen. “For context, it’s like the level of the Tour de France, or competing at the NFL or NBA level.”

Then in 2019, feeling like something was missing in his life, Vermeulen made the decision to move back to the United States and shift from solely road riding to also competing on gravel and mountain biking professionally. “I enjoyed the community, the growth, and the things that came along with them when I was competing at that highest level, but there were also a lot of barriers,” Vermeulen says. “To be an A-plus-winning athlete, I think there’s a part of you that has to put away caring for others. But there’s also this other weird side to it where it’s only the ones who are winning everything who can make a positive impact.”

Photo by Wil Matthews

Vermeulen realized he had dreams that weren’t all on the bike. “I always wanted to make a difference in others’ lives, and I couldn’t make the positive impact I wanted,” he says. “I wanted to be on the other side of those barriers. Racing in the United States, like in gravel and mountain-biking races, it’s much more inclusive. I could be on the same starting line as someone who is brand-new to racing bikes.”

So, in 2020, Vermeulen worked at a few road races in his hometown. Shortly after, he connected with Ryan Petry at a skills camp in Boulder, Colo. in 2019, and they became friends. Petry is a professional mountain biker. Together they had the idea to create From the Ground Up, a yearly project that guides and documents the journey of three riders with little to no experience in cycling as they prepare to take on the Leadville Trail 100 MTB, one of the most difficult cycling events in the nation. (The Leadville Race Series is owned and operated by Life Time.)

It was through this initiative that Vermeulen found that missing “something” he was looking for: a confluence of what he loved about the sport — cycling, community, growth, and journey — but with even more added meaning.

We spoke with Vermeulen to learn more about the From the Ground Up project.

Q&A With Alexey Vermeulen

Life Time Editorial | What inspired you to start From the Ground Up?

Alexey Vermeulen | After leaving Europe in 2019, I wanted to come back to the United States and do all these grand gestures. I wanted to impact the community — but that’s something that’s very easy to say and hard to do when you’re also racing.

Fast forward, we all know what happened with COVID-19, and suddenly people were getting on their bikes as a way to exercise or simply because they were in need of mental sanity, not necessarily for the sport of it. I asked myself, “How do I reach this new group of riders?” And that’s essentially how the idea for From the Ground Up was born.

I was on a 300-mile ride with a friend, Ryan Petry, and we had hours to talk about nothing. We come from different sides of the sport — he came from triathlons — and we dreamt up this movement. We had grandiose ideas of how to fix a problem that has a history way longer than either of us: the education of the sport.

The biggest issue in cycling is accessibility and intimidation. Everyone you see racing competitively is on some $10,000 bike and goes three times the average person’s speed.

Our goal was to find amateurs who we could educate and hopefully help them take on something bigger — like riding the Leadville Trail 100 MTB— and then they could then turn around and do the same teaching to others.

And it worked better than we ever thought it would.

LTE | How did you start the first season?

AL | The first project was in 2021. We posted a call to action online and explained our mission. Basically, we said that there’s this big race called Leadville, and if you’re crazy enough to train with us for six months, send us a video to apply.

We thought there would be 100, maybe 200 applications. We had 1,200 applications. We spent hours going through every applicant; picking just three people was the hardest part.

The second project comes out in October of this year and are planning for our third project next year.

LTE | What is the training process like for the three participants?

AL | Leadville is really hard. I knew I had to make training fun and interesting and hope that people would leave this process wanting to take on more — whether that’s on the bike or off it. I learned that Leadville is a great goal to focus on, and the journey to getting there is awesome. However, for applicants, it’s probably the hardest thing they’ve signed up for and put themselves through.

It’s almost like a social experiment. First, we accept their application at the beginning of the year. Then, in March, we fly to their homes to film the first episode. We drop off all the equipment — we give them a bike and other things they’ll need — and set them up with a training program, a skills coach, and a sport psychologist.

In April or May, we do an in-person skills camp in Bentonville, Ark. They attend Camp of Champions for more training, which occurs six weeks before Leadville where they get the chance to pre-ride the course.

LTE | How has this process been for you?

AL | You get into these moments when you see someone overcome a crash on their bike or accomplish goals that they set for themselves, and that’s been amazing to see. It’s in those moments off-camera when you have conversations that no one sees or gives you praise for —those feel amazing.

This project has been very rewarding in my career. People have asked me if I’d rather win Leadville or see all three of the athletes we train finish, and I would say see all three finish every time.