I contacted George Kapitz from Broken Spoke Bike Studio to ask if he know anyone who would be willing to share their adventure doing the 2025 Polar Roll in Ishpeming/Marquette, Michigan and he hooked me up with the Top Female Finisher, and 12th overall, Elizabeth Sabin, a Broken Spoke sponsored rider.
Here is Elizabeth’s Story! Thanks very much for sharing and congratulations on your top finish!
Let’s go back to the beginning—Polar Roll 2020, right before COVID hit. I was very new to biking, and it would be my first-ever race lasting over three hours. The race started in downtown Marquette, which was a blast, but I was super nervous (and, frankly, way underprepared for what lay ahead). My water froze 20 minutes in, and I hated most of it—until I finally warmed up in RAMBAland. If you know RAMBA, you know why! Six hours later, I crossed the finish line, completely exhausted but intrigued.
Over the next five years, I fell deeper and deeper in love with pedaling on two wheels. I trained hard, raced often, celebrated successes, endured broken bones, and learned a ton. But never, not once, did I think I could win the Polar Roll.
Polar Roll 2025: Lining Up Again
Flash forward to Polar Roll 2025. I was much more prepared but still nervous at the start line, wearing a brace on my wrist from a tendon injury I’d been nursing since late fall. I wasn’t too worried about the conditions—by this point in my racing career, I was confident I had the mental toughness to push through whatever came my way. Still, I had low expectations. My injury, combined with life’s stressors and my demanding job as an elementary school teacher, had caused my training to slip.
I found myself toward the front at the start—not because I planned to be there, but because people had lined up much earlier than I expected. Seeing familiar faces helped calm my nerves. I hadn’t even pedaled around before the race, so when I saw another rider place their bike down and go for a jog, I followed suit to warm up my muscles.
At the last minute, I second-guessed my tire pressure. The previous weekend, I had set it too high, which had hurt my race. But after a final check, I told myself, It is what it is. Then, in the blink of an eye, we were off.
The Battle Begins
Right away, I was surprised—the starting pace wasn’t as crazy as I had expected. I pushed a little harder, knowing that even though the first section, “Hill Street,” was windier than in past years, I didn’t want to get stuck behind too many riders in the soft snow conditions.
Halfway up the first road climb, I spotted my friend Kristy—a super strong rider and an incredible mom. We exchanged a few words and settled in. A minute later, another strong-looking female I didn’t recognize pulled in right behind Kristy. My competitive instincts kicked in: Okay, here we go—some healthy competition!
Once we hit the snow, I stayed behind Kristy. We passed a few guys, slipping around on the soft terrain. I took the corners and downhills cautiously, knowing my wrist injury had weakened my arms. I kept glancing back, but the other woman had disappeared.
Kristy and I rode and hiked the first five miles together—yes, hiked, because with five inches of fresh snow and steep RAMBA hills, everyone was hiking. At times, it felt more like a survival game than a bike race. No one was riding perfectly; the conditions were just too unpredictable.
At one super loose corner, Kristy tipped over slightly. As I passed, I asked if she was okay and commented on how insane the conditions were. From there, I found myself riding near George, the owner of Broken Spokes—an amazing sponsor, a super rad dude, and a fantastic rider. We kept swapping positions as we navigated the unpredictable terrain, slipping and tipping more times than I could count (mostly me, not George—haha).
The Toughest Section Yet
Then came our first truly brutal challenge—a section that hadn’t been groomed since the fresh snowfall. By that point, we were around 16th place, and the trail was a mess of ruts, footprints, and churned-up snow. The fresh powder was fluffy, but it didn’t make things easier.
At first, I stuck with George, but I kept messing up. After one particular fall, I told him to go ahead. He powered through while I struggled to keep up. This section tested me—really tested me. My uneven arm strength from my wrist injury made it even harder, and I hadn’t been able to train much in the snow this year. But I stayed positive, got up after every fall, and kept pushing forward.
I glanced back once or twice, checking for other women, but mostly, I focused on just getting to better snow. When we finally reached the groomed trail again, I felt a wave of relief. It was still loose, but nowhere near as brutal as before.
Pushing Through
Exiting Hill Street, I thought I was leading the women’s race, but I wasn’t sure. I told myself, Don’t worry about that—just stay focused, keep eating and drinking, and ride your best. Thankfully, my hydration system was working perfectly, with my water pack (H2O) and electrolyte bottle both unfrozen.
Reaching the XC ski trail near the ski jump, I felt more at home. I’d raced UPCROSS fat bike events there the past two winters, meaning I knew these trails well. I powered through, excited for the upcoming singletrack.
I was never alone for long, which was great—always having someone nearby to chat with, chase, or pace myself against kept me engaged. As a local, I knew the trails well and could anticipate upcoming hike-a-bike sections. I took the Fenceline Downhill, the Stairs, and other tricky spots cautiously—I really didn’t want a crash to take me out. By then, a few people had yelled to me that I was the first female, and I didn’t want to risk blowing it.
When I saw Ryan Stephens near Beaver Trail, I knew I was getting close to the finish. But I didn’t let myself relax—anything could happen. I had no idea how far back the other women were, so I kept pushing.
The Final Push
On one climb, I caught back up to George. Just in time, too—because at the next hike-a-bike section, my bike started shifting weirdly. The moment I stopped to check it, George was already there. Talk about top-notch support—he had it fixed in ten seconds and sent me on my way. Thanks, George!
When I reached the final snowmobile trail, I started sprinting early. I spotted a few guys ahead and still had something left in the tank.
Then it hit me—Holy moly. You’re going to do something you never thought possible, especially not this year. You’re going to win the Polar Roll.
She gave me my cookie right as I finished!
More Than Just a Win
Winning the Polar Roll, along with the Marji Gesick 50, felt surreal. For someone who was once pulled from sports teams in middle and high school due to anorexia, self-doubt had always been a struggle. Even though I’m much healthier now, that doubt still lingers sometimes.
But today, I proved to myself that hard work and a positive attitude make all the difference. That believing in yourself and never giving up can lead to incredible things.
I’m a huge advocate for getting more girls on bikes. Winning the female overall was amazing, but I was even prouder of finishing 12th overall, proving that women can compete at the highest levels. I hope this helps inspire young girls to believe they can do anything they set their minds to.
Because they can.
Believe in yourself—always. YOU CAN DO IT!