In the U.S. military, as in many other warfighting cultures, there is a particular regard for those who came before us. Their knowledge can keep you alive, and you show them a certain level of respect in the hope that they might share some of it with you.

The Spartans placed their elders in the Gerousia. The Romans followed the mos maiorum, the way of the ancestors. The Lakota call wisdom and understanding Wóksape.

SEALs sometimes refer to it as the “wisdom of the bullfrog.”

This year, I am coaching a Navy veteran I’ll call Mike, which is not his real name...

Mike is older than I am. I have not asked him much about his years of service, and he has never asked me much about mine. The first time we spoke was in the spring of 2025.

“I want to do Leadville,” he told me. “In 2026. Fifteen months from now.”

At the beginning of this year, Mike put in some hard hours. Intervals. Long days. He invested himself personally and financially in the goal. By April, he was struggling to find enough time to train. Austin was getting hot. He changed jobs, traveled frequently for work, and went overseas several times.

In June, I told him we needed to increase his volume. I explained how many hours athletes with similar ambitions typically spend training each week.

Mike responded by driving from Texas to Colorado. He arranged to work remotely so he could ride every day, get himself back on track, and close the distance between where he was and where he needed to be.

“I climbed St. Kevin’s this evening,” he wrote in an email at 10:14 one night. “I had to stop a few times, but didn’t walk my bike at all.”

A few days later, another email arrived after 10 p.m.

“I felt great today. Climbed St. Kevin’s, Sugarloaf, and Carter Summit. Took the highway back to town.”

A few weeks later, Mike attended Leadville Race Series Camp. The days were long, and he experienced the usual challenges that come with endurance racing: altitude, fatigue, nutrition problems, and equipment issues. He also had some wins and met some great people.

“I’m faster than last year,” he wrote afterward.

On June 28, the Willow Fire started west of Leadville. It has since burned thousands of acres near the northwestern portion of the racecourse.

On July 6, Life Time sent Mike an email that, in many more words, said: We are aware of the fire. We will share a decision when one has been made.

Since then, there has been endless speculation. Rumors. Group-text threads. Thousands of Facebook posts predicting what might happen.

“I’m sure you’ve seen all the news about the fire,” Mike wrote to me. “I’m going to keep training. Regardless of what happens.”

Mike does not know what will happen on the morning of August 15, and neither do I. But I know he will be ready.

He is spending his time training rather than worrying about circumstances outside his control. He made a commitment more than a year ago, and he continues to honor it.

I like to think Mike has learned something from me during the twelve months we have worked together. I know I have learned something from him.

In life and in bike racing, you show up and do the work. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Either way, you wake up and keep going.

That is the wisdom of the bullfrog.

– Coach Benjamin Davis, Navy SEAL Veteran and Cycle Coach

July 14th, 2026