2016 Leadville Silver Rush 50

The only other time I raced the Leadville Silver Rush 50 (SR 50) was in 2011.  I vowed I would never race it again because it is so hard and does not suit my skills.  The SR 50 is like the Leadville Trail 100, except there are no flat sections.  In the SR 50, we started at the elevation of Leadville (10,150) and climbed above tree line three times on the way to the turn-around, and three times on the way back.  If you weren’t trudging foot over foot on the way up (because there were too many rocks and it was too steep), you were trying to bomb down a steep rocky descent.

In 2011, we drove from Newton to Frisco (west of Denver) on Friday, and I raced on Saturday.  This year my work schedule had me in Denver for a meeting on Wednesday and Thursday.  We stayed with friends and hiked in Rocky Mountain National park on Friday.  We drove to Leadville Friday afternoon and checked in to the race.  We met Matt and Sandy at High Mountain Pies for a pizza and to catch up.  Matt was driving out and was hauling my bike and a bit of gear.  The fact we would get a chance to hang out in Leadville with Matt and Sandy and they were willing to haul my bike were the main reasons I broke my vow to never race the SR 50 again.

I was expecting my new lighter bike to provide a benefit on the steep climbs.  I checked my time in 2011 from the application I use to download data from my Joule GPS cycling computer and saw 5:29 recorded for 2011.  My goal is to improve my time from year to year, even though I get a year older each year.

The low the night before the race was 47, but by race time it had warmed to above 60.  This is truly mountain weather.  Skies were bright blue, there was no chance for rain in the forecast.   The weather looked perfect.

The race starts with a 100 yard very steep climb.  It is so steep no one is able to ride it.  There is a prize for the first male and female to the top.  Everyone else tries to catch their breath in the tight dusty trail which starts just after the ascent.  On a short tight descent Jeff went flying by me with a polite hello.  I was very surprised I made it to the top of the foot hill ahead of Jeff. 

Matt, Brad and Jeff at the start line before climbing the first hill.

Within 20 – 30 minutes the first long climb starts.  This climb will take me 1.5 hours and top out over tree line.  The climb was hard, but I felt as good as I expected.  I still had not seen Matt, and was thinking I may be ahead of one other flatlander.  Once at the top there is a wide gravel road descent with patches of exposed rocks.  Matt (and what seemed like everyone else) flew by me on the descent.

On the third climb above tree line I started meeting the leaders on their way back.  Once over the top, the descent is very steep, rutted and rocky.  I was trying hard to ride because I knew riding was several times faster than walking.  There were a couple times I nearly crashed as I was descending, but was able to pull it together.

As the descent started to flatten out I knew we were nearing the turn-around where I would see Jenni and get two full bottles.  There was something a bit different about the route at the turn-around, but soon I was able to stop and grab fresh bottles because I had drained both in the three hours it had taken me to get to the turn-around.  In my foggy mind I was able to complete the simple math to subtract 3 hours from 5 and one half hours to get to two and one half hours remaining.  I felt a sense of ease because I was past halfway from a time standpoint.   How bad could the remaining race time be?

As I was climbing a slight grade I encountered a car on the mountain road.  The car was actually on the course and was pulled over to yield to oncoming riders.  Because the car was taking up over half the course I could not pass.  Luckily, it started moving quickly and pulled off so I could safely pass. 

I knew the climb back up the first big mountain pass was steep from my recent descent.  I was very tired and likely dehydrated.  I rode as far as I could, but was forced to walk to the top.  It was a long distance and quite steep.  It felt like it took over an hour.  I even stopped a couple times to rest my body and get my breath.  I noticed a couple times my PowerTap Joule cycling computer had gone to sleep because I was moving so slow.  It is hard to believe pushing a 21 pound bike while walking uphill can be so tiring for your entire body.  Maybe being at 11,000+ feet of elevation has something to do with it.  At least the view was spectacular!

One of the spectacular views on the way back down to Leadville.

Each climb on the way back was difficult.  I finally came to the last long climb up a wide gravel road.  I knew it was long, but I thought it would not be so steep.  I started grinding up this climb and tried to get into a good rhythm.  There was no shade in sight and I was going through my fluids.  With each twist in the road I would discover I was not at the top.  Finally, I made the last corner and could see the top.  It had flattened out some, but since I was above tree line, there was no going fast.  I made the turn to start down the long descent without walking any of the gravel road.  Now to bomb down the several mile descent without crashing or flatting.

I made it down the descent to a flat section near the finish.  Several racers passed me on the way down.  I was able to keep one in sight once we were on the flat.  As we approached the finish I realized the finish route had changed.  I was able to follow the course and made it to the finish line.  I crossed the finish line at 6:32 and Ken Chlouber put a finisher’s medal around my neck and handed me a silver glass.  I was both elated and disappointed.  I was happy the pain would stop, but disappointed with my time (63 minutes longer than 2011).

When I looked at my Joule computer I saw a much different time.  I recalled it had gone to sleep because I was moving so slowly it thought I was stopped.  I quickly understood the time on my Joule would not match my race time.  It did not dawn on me; the time I had looked at from 2011 was the time from my computer, not my actual race time.  When I compared the actual race times I learned I finished in 6:09 in 2011, so I was only 23 minutes slower in 2016.  While this still was not where I wanted to be, it felt much better than being over an hour slower.  Life is about perspective; being 23 minutes slower sounds good compared to 63 minutes slower.

For the record, I am never doing the SR 50 mountain bike race again.  This time I mean it and you are all my witness!

2016 Lutsen 99er

The forecast on Tuesday called for a chance of rain the Saturday of the race.  I told myself things will likely change by Saturday.  There were a few dips in the chance of rain, but on the morning of the race, the chances were good for rain by 10:00 AM. 

The race started at 7:30 on dry roads.  I was hopeful we could escape the rain.  The soil in northern Minnesota is sandy and drains well.  However, there are always large puddles, even in “dry” years.

I was concerned I was not in top shape because my important large effort two Saturdays before the race was shortened by rain.  Without significant testing there is no way to know for sure, so in the last week I was trying to tell myself to ride my race and not worry about my fitness.

The race starts with a neutral descent of about 5 minutes, turns onto a flat road (highway 61) for 5 minutes, then turns back north and climbs for 20 minutes.  I held myself back a bit on the climb so I would not burn too much energy in the first 30 minutes of the race.  In the three prior years I have finished the race in just under 7 hours and was holding to the same goal this year.

I was able to ride at a reasonable pace on the initial climb.  The rest of course to the first aid station contains several miles of rough doubletrack.  I made it to the first aid station a couple minutes behind my goal pace.  I was not where I wanted to be time wise, but I was holding a reasonable pace and was telling myself I was better off to conserve early so I had energy towards the end.  There had been some thunder prior to arriving at the first aid station, but no rain.

Near the start on dry roads.

 

The first aid station marks the beginning of a 17.8 mile figure eight in the course, which is ridden twice.  The figure eight contains approximately 7 miles of rough mowed trail and 10 miles of gravel road.  I meet Jenni (my superb crew) who is stationed just as the rough mowed trail ends.  In the rough mowed trail someone passed me and said my name.  I was not sure who it was, but I suspected it was Steve Cannon.  I stopped to grab a new bottle and something to eat.  It was sprinkling lightly, which was of no concern, I was actually happy to have a bit of moisture to settle the dust.

After I left Jenni, the rain picked up significantly.  There was lightning striking the trees all around me.  It started raining so hard I was actually getting cleaner.  On the first couple miles of gravel road after I left Jenni I was unable to hold onto the back of a draft line.  I remembered from years past, there was a large descent with a turn at the bottom.  As I was descending I noticed I was catching the group I was unable to hang onto earlier.  I glanced to the right and saw a racer standing up in the ditch.  Apparently he was caught off-guard by the descent with a corner at the bottom.  I was able to rejoin the group and work with them all the way back to the first aid station.

By the time I reached the rough doubletrack the rain had slowed.  The double track was still rough, and now greasy and soft.  Not long after hitting the rough doubletrack Steve Cannon passed me again.  I was able to hold onto his wheel and he was a good pacer, plus it helped to see his line through the rough rocks.  Between breaths we were chatting which helped pass the miles.  We commented how we were working harder to go slower.  I stopped to load up on supplies when I met Jenni, to head out for the remaining 37 miles of the race.  I said good-by to Steve as he rode on.

Within a mile after passing the 3^rd aid station I spotted Steve up the road.  I caught him and we rode together without saying much to each other.  Steve and I slowly began to get further and further apart.  He was riding stronger, and / or I was fading.  I had to stop for a “nature break” and Steve was able to keep going.  Within approximately 7 miles after the 3^rd aid station I noticed the roads were getting dryer. 

By the 4^th aid station the roads were dry and dusty again.  I was hanging onto the back of a strong group and working hard to stay with them.  The miles consisted of mostly gravel roads with a few miles of doubletrack.  At one point we were descending at close to 20 mph on a good doubletrack, or maybe it was a sketchy gravel road, I heard the vibration of disk brakes a couple times.  Next I observed a rider pull off to the left and do a somersault in the ditch.  He popped up, so I knew he was OK.  I never learned the cause of this issue.

I left the last aid station all alone.  At this point in the race I like to ride with a group to help pace me to the finish.  After several hours it is very easy to lose focus and find yourself pedaling easy as if on a joy-ride.  I was able to catch a couple people, but was also passed by a couple.  I was not riding very strongly, but I was not creeping along either.  I was pushing myself hard as we entered the singletrack which makes up the last few miles of the course.  There is no need to save anything at this point.  The course descends a small hill, crosses a bridge and goes up a short hill with a boardwalk.  As I was working to get myself lined up for the small uphill I realized there was a cyclist stopped about 1/3 of the way up.  I was able to fly past on the left without incident.

Passing the stopped rider near the start of the singletrack.

I saw another racer (possibly in one of the shorter races) in front of me crash in the tight singletrack.  I continued pushing as hard as my tired legs would go.  In the back of my mind I knew there was a long and steep climb to the finish, but I was trying not to hold back too much.  I completed the short descent to the river, rode along the river, and then started up the finishing climb.  I was able to pass a couple racers who were completely out of gas.  There are so many emotions at this point in the race; spectators cheering loudly, you know you are nearly finished and your legs are screaming in pain.

At the finish with my legs screaming in pain.

I finished in 7:20, several minutes slower than my goal.  I was disappointed, but as I have had time to think about my race and preparation, I now know why I was slower.  The items impacting my race were: I was getting a chest cold, the thunderstorm made the roads and trail softer and I was forced to shorten an important long training ride two weeks prior to the race.  Unfortunately, I will never know the level of impact each of the above items had on my time.  I had very little control over these items, so I just need to move on with the rest of my season.

2016 Almanzo 100

 

The forecast was calling for a cold (start at 35, warm to 50) and windy (start at 15 mph, raising to 20+ mph) day.  I was carefully watching the forecast and knew the weather conditions would make the race difficult.  There is something about riding in the cold with extra layers, I never ride as well as on a warm day.  I blame it on the extra layers of clothing causing increased wind resistance and resistance to leg movements.  I was telling myself, the wind will help as much when going with it as it will hurt when going into it.  I know this is a lie, my average speed is never as good on a windy day as on a calm day.  These were the little tricks I was playing with my analytical mind to ensure I made it to the start line of the Almanzo 100 in Spring Valley, MN on May 14.
On race morning, the sun was out, but it was cold.  There was a 15 mph NW wind at the start.  Luckily, the ride to the start line was SE, so I could continue the lie to trick myself into starting this 100 mile gravel beast.  One thing I tried to remember, everyone races in the same conditions, so the weather conditions favored no one.

I have historically done a poor job of pacing myself in this long race.  The excitement and pack riding in the first third seem to beg me to work too hard, which causes considerable pain in the last half of the race.  In my humble opinion, pacing yourself is one of the best uses of a power meter in events longer than a few minutes (this finding is supported in the book Training and Racing with a Power Meter – 2^nd ed. By Hunter Allen and Andrew Coggan).  My power meters of choice are the reliable and accurate devices available from PowerTap.

Near the start in Spring Valley, MN.  Image courtesy of TMB Images.

In the first 25 miles I was riding with a couple guys on Cannondale bikes.  They seemed more than willing to pull through the sections where we were going into the wind, so I stayed on their wheel.  My reasoning was, I may be working slightly above pace, but I was able to go much faster into the wind.  The pace was correct for the sections where we were going with the wind.  At about mile 30, while I was climbing a long hill, I noticed a couple racers had stopped ahead.  When I rode by them I could see it was my buddies on the Cannondale bikes and they were eating.  I was surprised they thought they needed to stop to eat so I asked them if everything was OK.  They indicated they were fine, so I rode on.  I could not help but think they may have been riding above their 100 mile pace as well.  I saw them once more, when they were stopped, and then never again.  Suspicion confirmed!

 

From about mile 50 to mile 66 I rode in a group of about 10 racers.  By this time the wind had picked up to a 20+ mph force.  I was not able to ride above 10 mph into the west or north wind.  With the group I was able to ride at 11 to 12 mph.  They were a great help.  As we entered Forestville State Park they all turned off to their support crew.  I pedaled on looking for new friends.

To my surprise, the river crossing at mile 81 was dry.  I have crossed this river when it was waist deep, but usually it is shin deep.  I found one or two people to work with but there were no large groups by this point in the race.  I needed something or someone to keep my mind off my tired legs.  By this point I was very tired and unable to generate much power.  I did notice my fluid consumption had increased.

 
My nutrition and hydration plans were to consume a large bottle of Hammer Perpetuem (1/2 strength) and a Clif bar in the first 39 miles, in miles 40 – 75 and from 75 to the end.  I also consumed ½ a PB&H sandwich and a banana through the race.  This would have provided ample calories to get through a 7 hour race.  Planning for the proper hydration is more difficult.  On a cold ride I don’t need the same quantity of fluid as a warm ride.  In training I have easily ridden 3+ hours on a single bottle on a cool day.  In the first 40 miles I was not sweating much, so did not need more than a single bottle.  As the day warmed I was not shedding my warm clothes and began to sweat more than I realized.  At the end of the race I was not able to weigh myself to confirm my state of hydration.  Based on the way my power faded and how thirsty I was for several hours after the race, I am sure dehydration was impacting my race.

A late race climb.  Image courtesy of TMB Images.

Despite my dehydrated state I was able to set a Strava Segment PR on the large climb at mile 90 named Oriole road.  This is a beast of a climb covering ½ mile and gaining 250 feet.  A guy I was riding with said there were sections where the pitch was 20%.  I attribute this PR to a new lighter Trek ProCaliber mountain bike.  The last 25 miles contained about 23 miles into the wind.  This was demoralizing to say the least.

I finally made it to the finish line in 7:02.  This was my second slowest time ever and a bit disappointing.  I continued to remind myself how average speed is slower on windy days.  When the results were posted I learned I placed 80^th out of 504.  My opinion of my effort improved as this was a higher place, relative to the field size, than last year when I was nearly 30 minutes faster.

Start of 2016 Races

Humbling Race

I have already completed a couple early season races in 2016.  These are “for fun” races, but I am sure I take them more seriously than I should.  One should not have high expectations for so early in the season.  Every winter I think to myself, this year I have put in the time on the trainer to be fit when I finally start riding outdoors, but every spring I am disappointed with my fitness when it counts.

A promoter has faithfully organized the Iowa Spring Classic gravel race series for several years.  These races happen on the gravel roads in central Iowa, so I feel obligated to race them because they are close to home, and they get me outside in the early spring.  This year the race in Colfax lined up with my schedule.  There were two options, an “A” and a “B” group.  The A’s were racing 48 miles and the B’s were racing 32 miles (6 and 4 laps of an eight mile loop).  I signed up for the A race thinking I typically do better in longer events.  I confirmed there was a small field (seven A racers).

I rode well on the first lap and was able to pull away from a few riders on the long climb.  I found people to ride with so I could share the work into the wind on laps one through five.  I was feeling pretty good about myself on subsequent laps because I was able to lap a couple of the B racers.  On the last lap I was all alone in the wind with my thoughts and tired legs.  I was watching behind myself to make sure there was no one about to overtake me.  When I crossed the finish line I noticed the promoter put away his clipboard.  Could I be the last finisher?

Once the results were posted I confirmed my fears, I finished last.  I was very tired and could not have given any more.  The person who finished just before me finished six minutes ahead.  I don’t think I could have ridden nearly a minute faster per mile, unless I was drafting 100% of the time which would not have been a fair tactic.

I never finish races at the front, but I am not normally at the back either.  Also, most of the races I enter have significantly larger fields.  I was able to console myself by looking at the statistics from my PowerTap Joule GPS cycling computer and PowerCal heart rate monitor.  My average pace was over one mph faster than my pace in other long gravel events.  My conclusion, I was the slowest in a small, fast and fit group.  This is completely different than being slow and out of shape.

I want to remember this feeling to ensure I always give my all on training rides and races.  I made little “DFL” stickers and put them on the handlebars of my bikes.  Hopefully I can turn a bad memory into positive energy and motivation.

 

Windy Iowa Spring

Another early season race I contest every year is the Gent’s race.  This is a 61 mile gravel race taking place on the roads around Slater, Iowa.  The format is unique because you compete as a team of five and must stay together to the end to be counted in the official results.  The race organizers start teams every few minutes from slowest to fastest, so the first team across the finish line is declared the winner regardless of overall elapsed time.  The format is fun because each team must work together to get to the finish as fast as possible.

The forecast for the day of the race was for high winds (25 mph sustained, 40 mph gusts) and cool (low 40’s, warming to upper 40’s) temps.  Race morning delivered the weather just as predicted.  I think each of my teammates was waiting for someone else to say they thought the conditions were too ugly, but luckily, no one did.  In our reluctance to start riding we ended up getting to the start line about five minutes after our allotted start time.  I had a hunch it would not matter.

The first ½ mile in town was windy, but when we made our way to the open road where there was nothing to block the wind, we all started experiencing challenges controlling our bikes.  Within the first mile, one of our teammates pulled over and almost quit.  I was able to talk her into giving it another shot and we were off.  We were battling head and side winds (simultaneously) for the first three miles.  Our pace was not much faster than a snail.  We then turned with the wind and found ourselves able to maintain 18 mph without pedaling much at all.

Luckily, the course had no super long stretches into the wind without turning to give us a break.  Controlling our bikes so we could ride in a straight line was almost as hard as pedaling into the wind.  We worked together to keep the smaller riders out of the wind as much as we could.  I was watching my PowerTap Joule GPS cycling computer and noted we were maintaining a blistering 8 mph pace into the wind (north or west).  It was so windy we had to work hard to communicate on the bike and controlling our bikes took considerable mental effort.  Taking your hands off the bars to grab a drink was very difficult.  It was about this point I began to realize our brains and bodies were starting to adapt to the difficult challenge of riding in the side wind.  We were “getting our sea legs,” controlling our bikes was no longer a full time job.  It is very interesting how our bodies adapt to new challenges.

There was a mandatory check-point at mile 32.  The race organizers transported one drop bag per team to this location.  We were wind-blown, cold, hungry, mentally exhausted and generally miserable.  The contents of our drop bag was not going to remove all the misery.  The route was a modified figure eight, so we were only a few miles from Slater.  The misery factor and ease at which one could quit made the decision not too difficult for a couple of racers on our team, and many on other teams (more about this later).  Three of our team pushed on while two went directly (and happily) to the finish.

The rest of the race was fairly uneventful.  The portions into the wind were slow and hard, while the route with the wind went by much too fast.  I never warmed up (face, fingers and toes) throughout the entire race.  We encountered a five to six mile stretch into the wind with less than 10 miles to go which was slow and difficult.  When we finally made the turn where I knew we had less than three miles to go, all of it with the wind, I finally felt like we were going to survive.

We finished before the cutoff after racing for 5:33.  I was happy to finally be done and at the finish.  There were 63 teams signed up but only 18 teams officially finished plus five who finished with fewer than five racers.  There is no data available on how many teams started the race.

After we finished I was able to check on the weather conditions.  The maximum sustained wind for the day was 40 mph with the highest gust at 50mph (as reported by the National Weather Service).  The high temperature for the day was 44 degrees.

Ironically an article titled “Misery Is a Choice: Developing Mental Toughness in Endurance Athletes” came across my desk the week after the Gent’s race.  It is experiences like the Gent’s race this year which provide yardsticks for measuring other events and conditions.  By comparison, all other winds will seem small compared to what we experienced this year.  When faced with a strong wind in a future race or training ride, I can recall the winds at the 2016 Gent’s race and know I have ridden in worse.  This will help me to be mentally strong and more confident when the conditions are less than ideal.  If you ride and race enough you will have the opportunity to build a rich history of memories you can use to get you through the difficult times.  Reflecting further, I believe this same thing happens in life as well.  Please join me as I expand my basis of misery in order to keep bike riding, racing and life in perspective.

2015 Buffalo 105

2015 Buffalo 105

The Buffalo 105 is a race I organize and promote which starts and finishes at the Newton YMCA.  This race was first held in 2011 on a 72 mile loop.  It has grown into a double race, 55 miles or 105 miles consisting of a 55 mile loop ridden by everyone followed by a 50 mile loop for the 105 racers.  The last Saturday of October seems to have stuck as the time for this race.  My job as a marketer will never take off because I seem to be able to draw only around 20 starters in total.  There is no entry fee and the entire registration is conducted via email.  Marketing consists of Facebook posts, events on bikeiowa.com and ridinggravel.com as well as flyers posted in bike shops.  To say this race is low budget is an understatement; there is no budget (ok, I print about 30 waivers on new paper every year).

At this late point in the season, I try not to take the race too seriously.  I am normally a little tired from racing and am busy getting everyone checked-in and started in the race.  I waffled a bit in the week prior to the race, but decided to ride my heavy (30 lbs.) circa 2002 hardtail mountain bike.  I wanted to give myself a challenge and save the wear and tear on my light race mountain bike.  There is about a mile of B surface road (also known as minimum maintenance road, or dirt road) which can cause problems with bikes.  How hard can it be to ride a heavier bike, I asked myself?  I should be in good shape at this time of year and tough enough to show myself the bike does not make that much difference.

The forecast a week prior to the race was for rain on Saturday.  As the day drew closer the rain ended up being forecast for Friday afternoon and night.  By Saturday morning at 2 AM the rain was to be gone and the skies were to become partly cloudy by mid-day.  The high was forecast to be close to 60 with a NW breeze at 15 mph.  I was checking the hourly forecast frequently the last 24 hours, and it did not change.  We did receive about .35 in. rain in the 24 hours prior to the race.  Since it had been so dry I was not sure this would affect the B road significantly.

Race morning finally arrived with one more check of the forecast.  It was holding, it looked like a good day for a fall bike ride.  There would be some wind; however, since these were loops there would be equal miles with headwinds and tailwinds.  It was cool at registration and I noticed there was a stiff NW wind.  As we gathered for my start line speech (safety crap, etc.) it was cloudy, windy and IT STARTED TO MIST!  Having dressed for racing in temps. around 60 I was wearing shorts, a jersey and a wicking undershirt.  I was shaking as I was trying to deliver the few words I needed to say.  I could not decide if I was cold, nervous or both.  I desperately needed to start riding my bike to get warm.

I cut my speech to the necessities and we were off.  Within a few minutes I was warming up and soon we arrived at the point on our way out of town where I raised my arm and declared “game on.”  After leaving Newton there a couple long and steep hills into the NW wind.  The hills were hard and a couple groups were in front of me.  I knew I had at least 100 miles to go so I was trying to conserve.  I was also thinking I did not want to ride the next 15+ miles into the wind by myself.  I was able to bridge up to one group by the little town of Metz and rode a mile dangling off the back before we turned south and they got away from me.  I was able to join them in the next three miles and ended up with a couple friends with me to share the work for the entire westerly section. 

The B road is found in the last three miles of the westerly section.  Just as we were crossing a road and entering the gravel run-up to the B road, a beat up pickup pulled over.  The driver rolled down the window to release a huge cloud of cigarette smoke.  He said something like “Fellas, you know this is a dirt road?”  We assured him we knew and pressed on, now a bit more concerned at what we might find.  The B road was wet, but not so wet it picked up on our tires.  Since I was riding a mountain bike the group let me lead.  I took it cautious to make sure we did not suddenly find our tires caked with mud and not turning.  It was about as wet as it could be without causing a problem.  Finally, I caught a break!

I was still with my friends and we were now a group of four.  We turned with the wind and the speed picked up.  I was feeling like the pace was just slightly over my 105 mile pace, but I knew I needed all the help I could get once we started riding the last 15 miles into the wind.  I pushed my legs to stay with the group as we clicked off the miles.  After we passed through the town of Monroe the route contains a few sections of north into the wind.  We were nearly to Reasnor, going down a large fast hill and I felt my rear wheel thump over something fairly hard.  Within a half mile I could tell my rear tire was going down.  I knew this was going to kill my chances of riding with the group to Newton into the wind.  The group was super nice and turned around to make sure I had what I needed to fix the flat.  I told them I did and encouraged them to go on without me.

I fixed the flat in no time and was on my way into the wind.  I was flying up the road at what seemed like 10 mph while watching my back for someone to catch me, which never happened.  With about three miles to go I began to realize I was getting hungry and started to calculate the calories I had taken in.  I had eaten 385 calories for nearly four hours of riding.  I should have taken in at least 600 calories, so I started eating another Clif bar.  It tasted very good and by the time I hit the Newton city limits I had eaten about half, so my total caloric intake was up to 510.  Still low, but I knew I could make up the difference before I started the 50 mile loop.

I rolled into the start / finish table at the Y as the sun was peeking out intermittently.  It felt so good on my back.  I was reassured to learn the race was going fine, volunteers Julie and Carrie had everything under control.  There was only one rider who needed rescued and others were rolling into the finish.  I quickly filled the one bottle I had consumed with Hammer Perpetuem and restocked my pockets with Clif bars.  I also grabbed a peanut butter and honey sandwich I had made and started nibbling on the first half.  On my way out I devoured a pumpkin bar one of the volunteers had made (let’s call her Carrie-Betty-Crocker).  I knew it would be difficult going back out, and I learned the 105 racer I was riding with in the group of four had a sick child and needed to go home.  There was only one 105 racer on the course and he was literally hours ahead of me.  I knew the longer I hung around the harder it would be to go back out, so I pulled on my big boy pants, said thank you and good bye to everyone and started riding the 50 loop.

Even though the first 15 miles were with the wind I was not feeling very spunky.  The longer I rode on the 50 loop, the worse I felt.  The issue was in my gut, not so much in my legs.  I began to think about what had happened at the halfway point and realized I had ingested too many calories in a short period of time.  I put myself on a liquid only diet and pushed on in solitude.  After the first 15 miles traveling in a SE direction, the 50 loop spends the next 30 miles going mostly north.  This left me with a lot of time to think about how tired my legs were and how slow I was going.  I needed someone else to talk with to take my mind off the ugliness.  I tried to occupy my mind with calculating, from memory, how far until I turned with the wind and how many hills were left.  I am not sure if it was a coincidence or not, but when I turned to go with the wind towards Newton, I started to feel better in my gut.  By this point I was quite behind in caloric intake, but I did start slowly eating again.  I continued to watch my back, sure the next rider would be passing me at any minute.

The finish was completely uneventful.  I pulled into the Y to find my faithful volunteers, Julie and Carrie had put everything away in my pickup.  They were faithfully waiting for me to finish.  Besides their cars, and my pickup, there was one other car in the parking lot.  I learned there was one other rider who started the 105 after me.  I thanked my volunteers (I hope I did, I was a bit out of it) and sent them on their way.  I owe them a big favor.  The final rider finished within what seemed like three hours, but was really less than an hour.  We chatted a bit and it was over.  Just like that, the Y looked like nothing took place.  The entire day was just a memory.

Looking back, we made mostly good memories on the day.  I delivered over 50 pounds of food to the food pantry.  I am sure there were good and bad memories for the 19 starters (hopefully mostly good).  My experience with an epic effort like this, over time, the memory of the pain starts to fade and is replaced by the realization of what I have accomplished.  I try to take this sense of accomplishment into the next event.  I believe it is a new confidence in my ability to survive.

 

The final instructions at the start line.  Think cold and wet!

2015 Perry 101

2015 Perry 101

 

The Perry 101 is a 101 mile gravel road race containing a moderate amount of climbing and about one mile of “B” road.  There are a few age groups providing the opportunity to race against my peers.  There is very little hard surface and only two towns to replenish supplies.  New this year is the option to race 101 kilometers (63 miles).  Participants make the decision on the race distance at the 18 mile point.

My training leading up to the race involved a couple very hard one hour rides the week prior to the race.  The Perry 101 is not one of my “A” races, so my training schedule contained more duration and intensity in the week leading up to the race.  My goal was to break 7 hours since I had completed this race in 6:55 last year and had finished the Lutsen 99er just under 7 hours earlier this summer.  To meet this goal my average speed needed to be at least 14.4 mph.

I was waffling on which bike to ride.  My choices were either a heavy hardtail mountain bike or my lightweight full suspension cross country race mountain bike.  The hardtail bike has good tires and two water bottle cages.  The full suspension bike is much lighter but the B wheels have a tire with a bulge and only one bottle cage.  In the end, the night before the race, I decided to race the full suspension mountain bike.  The final decision was based on the weight of the bike, the heavier hardtail would have been a large disadvantage.

The racers from the Newton area included Jim, Shawna and Julie, all long time training partners.  They were planning to race the 101 K distance, I was committed to the 101 mile distance as the fifth 100 mile gravel ride in the Cup O Dirt Challenge.  I was planning to ride the initial section at a slightly slower pace because I tend to go out too hard in the first part of races.

The race day weather forecast was for the temp to be around 50 at the start and warm to the 70s by the middle of the afternoon.  The biggest factor regarding the weather was the wind.  It started out very mild out of the SW, but was predicted to become around 20 mph out of the SSW by mid-afternoon.  This is significant because the course travels mostly west for the first 35 miles, north for about 20 miles, east for about 35 miles and finishes with 10 miles to the south.  The various directions of travel are significant because of the wind direction.

The start was uneventful.  The first five miles were on fairly deep gravel.  I kept trying to find a well packed section of road, but there was none to be found.  The three Wrecked’em racers worked well together for the first 17 miles.  I noticed there was a group of five ahead of us, but we could not stay with them because their pace was just above ours.  I wanted to find a group to ride with to stay out of the wind, especially when riding into the headwind.

For the first hour I was averaging 16.34 mph which felt within my ability for 100 miles.  As we approached the 18 mile split I decided to try to hang on the back of the group of five containing Dee, the first place female finisher from last year.  Races are rarely won by holding back, so I decided I needed to push my pace for as long as I could to ride with this group.

In the second hour I could tell I was working harder and hoped my average speed had increased (it was actually 15.53 mph).  Again, it was slightly faster than I wanted to ride, but my legs were still feeling ok.  I justified the increased effort by telling myself I was not working as hard as I would have been if I was riding by myself and going 15 mph into the headwind (which was starting to pick up).  At about mile 35 the rest of the group stopped at a water stop at the entrance to the Whiterock Conservancy area.  I had not finished my first bottle of Perpetuem, so I pushed on knowing there was about 3 miles due south, a couple miles west followed by 5 miles north to Coon Rapids where I planned to stop.  I passed one lone rider who looked like he was in my Grand Master age group before Coon Rapids but was caught by the two strongest riders from the group of five.  I will call them black jersey and green jersey because I don’t know their names.

I pulled into a convenience store in Coon Rapids to purchase a piece of pizza and refilled my now empty bottle with water.  I really needed to use the restroom but there was someone taking their time in the Men’s.  Since they were one-holers I decided to use the women’s to take care of business before I wet my shorts.  The two faster riders departed before I made my pizza purchase.  The remaining three were ready to depart when I emerged from the c-store.  I knew it was important to eat some calories so I turned them loose so they could ride on.  Dee politely said something about me catching them soon.  I was thinking, how nice of her to say that, but no way.  I checked my numbers and noted I had ridden 45 miles in slightly over 3 hours at a 15.8 mph average.  This was above my goal pace, but I was feeling OK and looking forward to riding with a tail wind.

Within a few miles after leaving Coon Rapids there is approximately one mile of “B” road.  This road was muddy and forced us to walk last year which added quite a bit of time.  This year the “B” road was dry and very easily ridden.  I was able to average around 20 mph through this section because I was also going north with a significant tail wind.  Shortly after emerging from the “B” road I was able to spot a group about one mile ahead.  I assumed this was the three containing Dee.

Through the fourth hour I slowly closed the gap to the three ahead of me.  I was not sure if any of the racers were 50+ making them Grand Masters and racing in my age group.  I decided to maintain my pace when I overtook this group so I did not provide a draft to the finish for a competitor.  Riding a mountain bike put me at a disadvantage from weight and wind resistance standpoints, so it was not wise for me to pull other riders to the finish.

My strategy worked to perfection, a few minutes after I caught the Dee group I looked back and no one was willing to follow me off the front.  In roughly 5 miles I realized I was approaching the city of Jefferson.  As I was riding through town I saw a couple riders in front of me.  I wondered who it was; not dreaming it was green jersey and black jersey (fast guys).  Within a few miles after departing Jefferson I realized I was catching the two riders in front of me.  Much to my surprise it was in fact green jersey and black jersey.  I learned they were trying to rely on tattered cue cards and had been lost / taken wrong turns several times.  This explains why I was able to catch them.  I was their new best friend because I was able to navigate using the route on my bike computer (Joule GPS).  We rode together working to share the load.  I noticed green jersey was not as strong as black jersey at this point.

In hour 5 I decided to get to know my new friends.  I began to market and promote the Buffalo 105 (the gravel race I organize taking place on Oct. 24), thinking I had a captive audience.  I learned black jersey lived in St. Louis and had driven up for the race.  I needed to know if these guys were in my age group (Grand Master 50+).  I could not think of a tactful way of asking this, so I said something about agreeing to help if neither of them were Grand Masters.  It turned out black jersey was my exact same age (54) and a Grand Master.

We were riding along at a good pace and came to a blacktop road to cross.  As I was crossing the road one of my water bottles bounced out and fell onto the road.  I told black jersey to go on thinking I would not see him again.  Just as I was turning back to retrieve my bottle a semi came along.  I realized he was slowing and about to turn onto the gravel road.  This was fine except my bottle was in his direct path.  Being the nice person he was, he stopped on the blacktop and motioned for me to get my bottle.  There are very nice people in this world.  It turned out; black jersey did roll on, but was soft pedaling allowing me to catch back on.  I decided if he was nice enough to slow for me I should help him for as long as I could.

I was trying to play out the finish and every scenario I ran seemed to favor black jersey.  He was on a 17 lb. bike with racing handlebars (making his position more aero.).  I remembered the finish involved several miles into the headwind.  I was just not sure how many miles we would struggle into the now strong headwind.  I was glad I had made a couple friends so we could share the work.

We came to the now unmanned second air station.  For some reason I filled only one bottle, moving the half full bottle of water to the holder behind my seat.  I ate only one small Clif Mojo bar.  Not long after leaving the aid station we made the dreaded turn into the south wind.  We all put our heads down and started working into the wind taking equal turns on the front.  I realized we had about 10 miles to get to the finish.  Within a few miles I realized I was fading and having a hard time holding onto the group.  I had also nearly finished the bottle I filled at the aid station.  I redoubled my efforts and was able to hold onto the wheel in front of me.

With about 5 miles to go, I could no longer hold onto the wheel in front of me.  I mentally said goodbye to my new friends.  I also now had a good picture of how the finish would play out with black jersey.  I was starting to bonk and wondered how bad it would be.  I started eating the last half of the second Clif bar I had brought.  I finished the bottle I filled at the aid station and began rationing my way through the half bottle of water.  As I was taking stock of myself I realized I was quite thirsty and somewhat hungry.  I think my largest issue was dehydration (I should have filled both bottles for the last 10 miles of the race).  I started watching for riders behind me like a nervous crack head.

The finish was much like stepping on a grape, not much of an event.  There was no one in front of me I could catch, and no one I could see behind me.  I rolled across the finish line in 6:48:17.  My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak.  Within a few minutes the Dee group of three finished.  It turned out, there was a Grand Master riding with Dee to the finish.  My moving average speed was 15.3 mph and overall average 14.8 mph, just slightly above my goal.

I was happy to learn Jim and Shawna had good races as well.  Jim was first place overall in the 101 K distance and Shawna was first female and fourth overall.  They represented the Wrecked’ems well!

Looking back I consumed two bottles of Perpetuem (135 calories each) and two full Clif bars (250 calories each), a piece of pizza (~300 calories) and one Clif Mojo bar (90 Calories).  This is a total of 1160 calories which is really close to my goal of 175 calories per hour (1225 total calories).  I also consumed only four large bottles of liquid which is a little over ½ bottle per hour.  This was likely my largest issue on the day.  As the temperature rose through the day and the dry fall wind increased I was caught off guard by not increasing my consumption of liquids.

The items in the preceding paragraph are why I keep racing.  I want to right the items which limit my ability to push my legs to be their best.  This is such an interesting paradox, my poor choices (mental) were causing limiters for my muscles (physical).  The seemingly easiest item turns out to be the hardest part while in the heat of the battle of a race.

Please learn from my mistakes and make good decisions while riding, and throughout life, my friends.

Wrecked'ems riding together last year (photo credit to Dave Mable).

My 2nd place trophy.

 

2015 Chequamegon 40

2015 Chequamegon 40

Prologue

I have focused on the 40 mile Chequamegon point to point race through the rolling hills of northern Wisconsin since 2001.  I have been racing either the 16 mile race or the 40 mile race since 1994.  I arrived in Cable, WI on Friday in time for the customary pre-ride of the final 4 miles of the 40 mile race course.  It has not changed in over 20 years, but this is the section I always pre-ride.  I found the course in good shape, not too wet, but wet enough to knock down the dust. 

Anticipating a wetter than normal course, I lubed my chain with a wet conditions lube after the pre-ride.  I aired up my new tires before going to bed so I could tell if they were holding air.  I had been working with them the past week because they were new and not yet holding air well.  They are tubeless and require a bit of tinkering to get them dialed in.

Upon waking on Saturday I learned it had rained lightly in the night.  This does not normally cause an issue because the soil contains a large amount of sand and drains well.  The forecast was for clear, sunny skies with a high temperature of 68.  It was cool early (mid 40’s), but predicted to warm up to the mid 50’s by the 10:00 AM start.  Nearly perfect temperature conditions for a mountain bike race through the beautiful Northwoods of cheese-head land.

I placed my bike in corral number 3 (earned by my finish time on previous races) at 8:00.  We spent the next hour and a half topping off nutrition and hydration stores and in nervous conversation.  There were several trips to the bathroom as the caffeine and nerves worked their magic on our bladders.  We were with our bikes by 9:45 as required by the race director.

 

Race

At 10:00 the race started with a neutral roll-out behind several quads.  The pace for the first mile is “controlled” at 20 mph, but once the leaders have made the corner onto highway 77, the quads hit the gas and the racing starts.  At this point the pace cranks up to speeds in excess of 25 mph while riding in a tight pack.  This is the part of the course which makes everyone on edge to avoid a crash.  Just when we were starting to thin the pack, I noticed everyone ahead was gesturing about something in the road.  I was able to move left to the center and came upon a rider in the middle of the right lane adjusting his rear quick release.  This seemed like a very poor decision regarding where and when to make this adjustment.  If this rider is reading this post, please note, it would have been much safer for everyone if you had gotten off the road before stopping.  There, it will never happen again!

At about the three mile point the race course takes a hard left off the only paved road into a hay field called Rosie’s Field.  I quickly learned the rain in the night had left the grass wet and dirt soft.  I was able to successfully navigate the few soft wet patches through Rosie’s Field and enter the Birkie trail.

The Birkie trail (named after the famous Birkebeiner cross country ski race which takes place on the trail) is normally a wide grassy path through the woods with an 8 inch wide track worn bare from bike traffic.  This year the grass was wet, the dirt under the grass was soft and the dirt path was greasy and slick.  The dirt path is normally the best place to ride because it provides the least resistance.  After several two wheel slides I decided the grass may be safer.  I was sliding much less in the grass, but expending much more effort because of the soft earth.  I continued to pick my line carefully to find a balance between easier hard packed bare earth and grass, where I could pass and not slide in the greasy mud. 

In the first few miles of the Birkie trail I heard someone hit the ground hard and the telltale sounds of other riders getting involved in the issue.  I was concerned my friend Jeff would be involved because I knew he was close behind me.  I was happy to be ahead of the tangle and pushed on.  At some point someone buzzed my left calf with their front tire.  This was a close call, but in racing you can’t worry about the things you can’t control.

I had created a handlebar card containing goal split times for each 10 miles.  At the 10 mile point I was roughly 5 minutes behind my goal for the split.  I could tell it was not going to be a fast year and told myself to relax and ride as fast as I safely could.

In about an hour I arrived at the crossing of the OO blacktop.  There is a ski hut (normally used for the Birkie) and the only official mid-race time check.  I normally meet my wife (Jenni) once we turn onto the gravel road about ½ mile after we cross the highway.  I was able to get another bottle (filled with Hammer Perpetuem – 135 calories) and she poked one of my home made granola hockey pucks (roughly 100 calories) into my cake hole.  I was off in about 15 seconds.

I was able to get onto the back of 20 rider pace lines through most of the race.  This allows me to conserve energy while maintaining a good pace.  As usual, the group would always pull away from me on the downhill sections, but I was normally able to catch back on once the course turned uphill.

The Chequamegon course is famous for wide water puddles.  The puddles are normally not more than six inches deep, but there is the potential for all sorts of bad things if you don’t ride the dryer route around the side.  There were a couple puddles I was unable to avoid because I was either going too fast to navigate around the side or there were riders beside me so I could not pick the dry line.  My chain took a bath of sandy water with each puddle.  I was happy I put on extra wet conditions lube so it would continue to shift.

I decided to try something new this year (totally out of character for me) and sucked in a caffeinated gel at mile 26.  I was having no stomach issues and figured the caffeine could not hurt me over the last hour of racing.

I have perfected a strategy for how to ride the Sealy Fire Tower climb after 12 years of racing the 40.  My strategy is to pick someone to follow who is steady and has a low chance of doing something stupid (i.e. spinning out) on the climb.  I will follow them at about 20 feet to give myself time to react if they did have an issue.  I executed this strategy to perfection and was able to ride all three tiers of the climb.  The Fire Tower climb comes at about mile 30.  After cresting the climb I quickly took stock of my situation.  My legs were tired, but showing no signs of cramping.  I decided it was time to leave nothing on the racecourse and ratchet my exertion up a notch for the last 10 miles.

I was pushing hard and passing some fatigued riders in the last 10 miles.  About one mile from the finish there are a couple short steep hills where there is not much of an opportunity to gain speed as you approach.  On the second climb I spun on a rock and had to clip out and run up the final 10 feet of the climb.  How embarrassing!  I continued to push hard and somehow found myself all alone for the final ½ mile.  This section contains two long rough grassy descents followed by off-camber turns.  Being alone I felt comfortable and let it roll (meaning I was not cautiously riding the brakes).  The last 100 yards contain a grassy uphill which seems to suck all your speed.  I gave it all I had and powered through this section to finish in 2:40, 10 minutes off my goal finish time.

Epilogue

I talked to several of my friends and everyone reported slower finish times than their norm.  I attribute this to the rain Friday night which made the Birkie trail greasy for the first 5 miles, made the earth soft and expanded the water puddles.  I was off the pace for each 10 mile section (however I was off pace by 7+ minutes in the first half of the race indicating the greasy mud was drying through the race).  My average power and heart rate were nearly identical to the numbers from last year, however my average speed was slower indicating I was working at the same rate but going slower because the bike was not rolling in the soft earth.

I have finished analyzing my numbers (a process which takes quite a bit of time, much to the dismay of my wife).  I am working to improve my weaknesses so I can go faster next year.  If I can’t go faster I sure don’t want to be slower.  I will also age into a new age group next year.  This is a bittersweet event.  I will be at the youngest age in my group, but the age group advancement will also mean I will naturally be losing top end capacity.  No one has found a way to stop aging (short of death).  The best I can do is be the best I can be.  This is true in life as well.

 

Ride on friends

Jeff and me at the start line.  You can feel the nervous tension in the air.

Me out on the course (Photo credit to Athlinks)

 

The finish line.  Notice the pain on my face. (Photo credit to Athlinks).

Julie finished the 40 for the first time.  Very proud of her.