True Grit Epic

This past weekend a good handful of 92Fifty' racers, including myself, headed back to the desert of southwest Utah to get our 2014 race season kicked off at the True Grit Epic.  This is a race that I had been looking forward to for a long time, for many reasons.  First off, it encompasses some of the best desert riding you'll ever do, and is a great escape from the cold Colorado winter.  It is also the kickoff for the National Ultra Endurance Series.  I was going to use this race as a measuring stick for where my fitness is at, what I need to work on, and if I'm able to compete at a high level in 100-milers. 

A few weeks before TG, I had decided to forego the true "epic" and step down to the 50-mile race.  I did this for a few very important reasons.  The winter and spring is when I plan on training hard and making big strides.  I was worried that doing the full epic would leave me worn down for weeks to come, and needing a lot of rest before any legitimate training and progress could be made.  I also realized as I put together my 2014 racing schedule that I wouldn't be able to compete in the NUE series, as it requires a ton of travel, expense, and full-on commitment to 100-milers.  Instead, I wanted to focus this season on "marathon" distance events (40-60 milers), where I could make use of both speed and endurance and not be constantly worn down.  Last but definitely not least was the stacked competition in the 50-mile Open category, where I'd be racing against some of the fastest guys in Utah and Colorado!

Heading into True Grit I was extremely excited with no expectations.  I was extremely confident in my endurance and ability to push hard for all 50 miles.  I was a little nervous about being able to handle the technical nature of the trails at race speed, but that's why I was there!  Lining up for the race I had a good idea of who my competition was.  I wanted to stay as close as possible to about 5 guys without blowing myself up early on.  As the gun went off we headed down an undulating fire road.  In about 1 mile a lead group of 15-20 riders began to form, and I was right up near the front feeling fine with the fast pace.  Flying down the fire road at high speeds was sketchy and difficult in this group, because it was hard to see the road in front of you.  About 2 miles in, my entire race changed abruptly!  Descending at ~25mph without clear view ahead of me, I smashed into a square-edged rock about the size of my head without warning or time to react.  In a split second I was flying through the air, almost in slow motion.  I hit the ground hard and rolled, and the rest of the field left me in their dust.  Getting up from this heinous crash, I quickly realized that nothing was broken.  I quickly checked my bike and got back on to keep riding.  In these moments after wrecking certain things went through my head; am I okay to race 50 miles? Did my bike get damaged? Will I actually be competitive after taking such a hit?  It took me about 5 minutes of riding to get back in the game mentally, and finally decide to start racing again!  By this point I was probably back in 50th place.  As I completed the first 10 or so miles I was working my way back up through the field, passing riders at a constant pace.  Upon hitting Zen trail, I could see the lead group and was closing down the gap.  Okay, maybe I can salvage something from this bad start.  And then, just as I was gaining my confidence, SNAP!  My chain popped climbing a steep rock face in Zen.  Damn!  All that I had just worked for, gone again.  It took me a rediculous amount of time to fix my chain, after a faulty quick-link and subsequently shortening the chain by about 3 links.  At this point I was mentally over it.  As I crawled through Zen at a snails pace, dictated by the slower riders I now found myself a part of, I debated finishing.  I knew my chances to be competitive were gone.  The time I lost, and then the time it takes to pick your way through slower riders, was devastating.  In times past, I would've called it a day.  I hate showing up in results pages near the back!  My inspiration to continue came from a few sources, one being 92Fifty' shop owner/team manager Jonathan Davis, who proudly sports a "DNF" tattoo on his left forearm.  This message rang clear to me that afternoon.  Screw the results and questioning and excuses and struggles, just go out there and finish!  It was also a beautiful day in the desert, and I still had about 35 miles of awesome desert singletrack to rip through!  Continuing on, I wrecked again and had to stop to straighten my handlebars.  The rest of the race I continued to push harder and harder.  My fitness felt great, and I was having fun.  I was passing riders at a constant pace for the next 3 or so hours.  Near the end, about 5 miles from the finish, climbing a super steep ATV road, SNAP!  Another broken chain!  At this point I just laughed to myself, casually flipped the bike over, and fixed it again.  Now my chain was ~5 links shorter than when I started! 

This was probably the worst luck I've ever had during a race.  I've fared quite well in the past with minimal mechanicals and wrecking, but today it all seemed to go wrong.  It was frustrating for many reasons.  I've been working hard all winter long, and want that to show.  I didn't get the chance to compete with the fastest guys, and have no idea how I would've fared.  With all that went wrong, I took positives away from this race.  First and foremost, my fitness and endurance feels amazing this early on in the year.  I never once got tired, and felt like I could push hard, near XC pace, for all 50 miles.  Taking the hardest wreck I've ever taken, I feel confident about my durability and mental attitude to keep on going.  The most important positive aspect was how much fun I had doing what I love to do.  It never felt like suffering.

I have to give props to some of the awesome equipment I used.  My Felt Nine 1 hardtail was amazing for this race.  Where many were sure it was a "full-suspension-only" course, the Nine 1 shined all day and never seemed to slow me down.  The way it handles fast flowing singletrack, and even rocky trails, is awesome!  The Ergon grips, gloves, and saddle I used were all money!  I am constantly impressed with the comfort of the SM3 Pro saddle.  I have done countless long days and huge races through the roughest of terrain on this saddle, and never ONCE had the slightest rear-end discomfort.  That's almost unfathomable.  What's also inspiring is the satisfaction and comfort I've had with the combination of the new GE1 "enduro" grip and HA2 gloves.  I used to get calluses/raw hands with other glove/grip combos, but not now.  Having the support of 92Fifty', the camaraderie of our crew, and the awesome people that make it happen, is a dream come true for me as well. 

Next up for me is a month-long road trip along the West coast in April.  I'll start the adventure with a Mudslinger events XC race the first week of April, and end it at Whiskey 50.  In between there is sure to be a ton of amazing riding and adventure!  Cheers.

I swear I was there..

And this is why I love mountain biking in the Midwest so much...

...so LUSH so GREEN!! The first pic is about mile 97 of 100.  I'm covered in dirt and grime, completely exhausted, and happy as can be railing awesome singletrack!  See ya next year Mohican.  Now, off to Michigan and Lumberjack 100.

Mohican Start: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

The Mohican 100 start was quite the test in evasion tactics.  Apparently the guy right behind was sporting a GoPro (or GoPro-like video capturing device), and also decided to get tangled up in a wreck only 300 feet into a 100-mile day.

 

It's also apparent that my lack of spinning prowess and overall speed gaining ability allowed me to stay behind the wreck(s) (another one happened right next to the first as a couple flailers decided they wanted a piece of the action) and meander my way around the downed bodies. 

Gettin' wet in the Midwest: Mohican 100

It was Midwest mountain biking at its best.  The perfectly designed fast flowy trails of Mohican State Park set the stage for a day of wet, sloppy, and fun riding in the surrounding rural areas of mid-Ohio.  The rains that soaked the area on Friday afternoon and evening put the trails in almost perfect, if not a little wet and wild, conditions.  Riding up and down was constantly a battle, as every off-camber root and rock was just a launching pad throwing your bike this way or that.  The race was a perfect mix of great singletrack, backcountry rugged trails, muddy horse trails, ATV paths, dirt roads, rail trail, and local farm property.  At one point it took us through a horse corral!  All of this was intermixed in perfect fashion as to never get tedious or boring.

Here is how my race panned out:

Starting line.  Obligatory family salute.

 

This was my first attempt at a 100-mile race.  Ahem.  This was the first time I’ve ever ridden 100 miles in a day.  I made the voyage from Boulder, CO.  Only 6 days before Mohican I was out punishing myself in Gunnison, CO at the Gunnison Growler.  I felt strong and fresh at the Growler, finishing 2nd in Singlespeed.  As the start went off in downtown Loudonville I was feeling confident, although it became evident early on that my legs were going to struggle.  Going up the initial climb out of town, and subsequent climbing out towards the state park, I thought I was somewhere inside the top 15 riders.  Little did I know that the top guys must have been propelled by jet-fuel as they were already out of sight even early on.  In Colorado I can generally climb with the best, but these Midwestern slayers are FAST!  I struggled to put down the power that they were capable of.  I was having tons of fun on the perfectly flowing singletrack that encompasses the first 30 miles of the course, but also struggling to hold onto the bike in the wet conditions.  I felt as though I was riding through the rainforest in the lush green, wet and dense forests.  

I rolled into Aid 1 feeling fresh, and was greeted by my family.  They told me I was in 5^th.  What the f*ck!  I had some work to do.  After aid 2 I was able to hook up with singlespeeder Nathan Annon and Jason Suppan and we increased our pace, mostly because of the tow from Suppan, closing the gap on the field, riding into aid 3 together. After aid station 3 I was alone the rest of the day.  I did get a tow from women's champion Cheryl Sornson and her riding partner the last couple of miles of the rail trail going into aid 4.  In the end it was a great introduction to 100-milers and the NUE Series.  Nothing beats the quality of trails in the Midwest, and it is always a treat to come back and ride here.  I finished 6^th in singlespeed, and 15^th overall!  Gerry Pflug was both the singlespeed and overall winner!  This is nuts; the dude is an absolute machine.  Coming into the race I was hoping for a better result in the singlespeed field, but this just shows how strong these guys are.  Anyone doubting the competition in the singlespeed class need only look at the overall results.  In two weeks I'll be at the Lumberjack 100 for more Midwest singletrack slaying action!

I took a lot of notes and tried to learn as much as possible in my first “ultra endurance” race.  I had a lot of good advice from friends and fellow racers coming into this race that I tried to use.  Some of the best came from women’s NUE Champion Amanda Carey.  She told me that there will always be, no matter how good of a day you’re having, a point where you start feeling like shit and just don’t want to be out there anymore.  Usually this feeling lasts for a period of time, and hopefully you come out of it.  She also talked about staying positive, as any negativity will just pull you down, and keeping the mind occupied.  This is the whole mental side of the game, which is one of the biggest battles.  In the physical sense it comes down to trying to keep food in the system, stay hydrated, and go strong even when you think you’re spent.

One of the most positive aspects of this race was my ability to sustain and overcome the mental battles that can break you down, especially in an 8-hour effort!  My biggest focus was staying positive throughout.  A good friend left me with this quote the day before the race, “The question of Pleasure.  There is no question.  It is all Pleasure.  We decided and are lucky to be here.”  That stuck with me the entire day.  There were certainly a few points when I started to get negative, and I remembered this quote, realizing that I was out in a beautiful place doing what I love to do.  I never once questioned my being out there or not finishing.  The hardest point of the race was going into Aid 3, and the following hour.  This was about the halfway point, and I was struggling physically.  Throughout this time I just took my licks and tried to keep moving forward, and eventually I would come out of it.  Ripping singletrack down to Aid 5, with only 16 miles left, I had a smile on my face and was feeling better and more positive than ever.  I was having fun, 90 miles and 7 hours in!!

A big lesson I learned, in terms of racing this style of race, was the advantage of having someone else to ride with.  I rode solo for most of the day, but in the brief moments that I had partners, and we were able to work together, our pace increased drastically.  One of the most mundane parts of the race was about 10-15 miles of rail trail.  I maintained the same pace the entire way, until I got passed by women’s Champion Cheryl Sornson and her male riding partner.  At this point I latched onto their mini-train and rode the last 4 miles in their tow, instantly increasing my pace by 4 mph.  This is huge!  Find someone to work with, and you can, together, be way faster.

Looking forward to the Lumberjack 100 in two weeks, and more racing to come.  Cheers.

Whatsa' the Happenin' ??

Right now I’m in full training mode for quite possibly the two hardest races I’ve ever done, both a week apart from one another.  By training, I mean lying around as much as possible, eating food, and servicing my bikes.  This coming weekend is the Gunnison Growler, followed by the Mohican 100 in Ohio on June 1.  How can I afford to do this and still expect to do well at these races?  Well, the last couple of weeks’ trials and tribulations, and some good advice from people “in the know” have taught me some things.  Let’s just hope that it all works out.

The week before the Firebird 40, as I previously discussed, I was sick and tired.  Then, come race day, I felt like a million bucks (until, of course, I spent that million bucks fast and furious like an NBA rookie, and then was flat broke).  There was something about the sickness-induced rest that made me stronger, if only for a short period.  Then, after the race and some subsequent riding, I got sick again, for most of the next week.  Come last Thursday, the first day I felt like I had enough energy for a long training ride.  Low and behold, I felt like a caged ape on the bike; 6 ½ hours, ~70 miles, on my SS, and I felt like I could’ve kept going!  It was the best training ride of the year for me.  On Friday I was able to put in another solid effort with minimal fatigue.  Saturday was an off day, and then Sunday was one of the biggest rides I’ve ever done.  I wanted to hit all three trail systems in the Boulder area, by way of some pretty good mountain climbs.  The route took me up Sunshine to Gold Hill, back down Four Mile Canyon to Betasso Preserve; a couple of laps of the trails at Betasso; over to Chapman Drive and up to the top of Flagstaff; down to Walker Ranch for a loop; back up out of Walker to Gross Dam Road to Coal Creek Canyon; Coal Creek down to 93; 93 to Marshal Mesa for a quick trail stint (as the sun was going down) and back home.  My GPS died, but it was ~75 miles, over 10k climbing, and 7 hours.  This ride my body didn’t have the energy of the previous two, but it was good mental training for the upcoming 100-milers, when you’re tired and don’t want to go anymore.  The main piece of advice given to me from my friend Jeff, who is a National Champion and has raced and placed very highly at the Leadville 100 many times, is to do NO hard training rides within a week of a big race.  This is why I will be taking this week to just relax and let my body rebuild.  I’ve already seen first-hand how good I can feel after a period of rest, so I’m hoping to be at full strength come this weekend and the Gunnison Growler.

2012 Gunnison Growler Endurance Mountain Bike Race from chris miller on Vimeo.

Here’s my upcoming schedule.  So much unknown; so much to be excited about.

May 25 – Gunnison Growler (64-mile)

June 1 – Mohican 100

June 15 – Lumberjack 100

June 29 – RME Snake River, Keystone

July 14 – Breckenridge 100

Watch more video of Lumberjack 100 2012 on thom.cyclingdirt.org

Etc. etc. etc.

There are a bunch of races later in the summer, and maybe one or two thrown in between these as well, but that’s pretty much what the next month and a half looks like.  The best part?  I can’t wait to ride at all of these amazing venues.  Cheers.

Wintspiration

I need to update this more frequently.  But not always at 2 in the morning!  Some people will be getting up for work a mere hours from now, and I’m just winding down.  But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way!  I work nights so I can enjoy my days.  Speaking of enjoying my days, what have I been doing with them?  Shortly after my last post, in which I had suddenly been too tired to continue a ride, I spent a couple of days in pure rest mode.  Probably more rest then I’ve gotten in months.  It was something natural that came over my body that I just had to listen to.  I wasn’t sick, but was running on low energy for about 3 or 4 days.  Normally I would push through and get out and ride regardless; this the infection that many cyclists have, always feeling like we are regressing or “losing it”, but in this instance I decided to let it be.  Since then my riding has been mostly mundane.  I need to find the inspiration somewhere to get back out and start hammering again.  I know it will come, and I will find it, but for now it’s a slow process.  That’s okay though, because there is so much in the way of mountain biking right around the corner, and I will surely get my fill. 

The first thing on my definite schedule is the Sea Otter Classic in Monterey in April.  I’m so excited to be getting back out to California again!  Not so excited about taking my licks from all of the top MTB Pros that will be there, but so it goes.  Everybody has to experience it.  It will be a UCI-type XC race, which I am not at all used to.  In the last couple of years the UCI has reworked what it considers mountain bike races, switching from backcountry, singletrack epics, to viewer friendly, technically challenging, fast and furious courses with minimal climbing.  These courses are best-suited to the big-power guys.  I am not a big-power guy. Before that, there are a couple of Pro XCT stops in southern California in March.  If I can swing it, I’ll also try to be out there then.  If not, some trips to Moab and Sedona will probably be in store.  Then, in May the real racing begins.  There is the Rocky Mountain Endurance Series season opener in mid-May, followed by the Gunnison Growler a week later.  After that, everything becomes a blur!  I kick off my foray into the ultra endurance scene with 100-mile races in Ohio then Michigan only two weeks apart.  Then Marathon Nationals, Breck100, and more!  Whewww! I hope it all works out.

In my immediate line of sight, there is this thing called Stout Month.  In its 20^th year of existence, the heavy hitting dark beer extravaganza at the Mountain Sun Pubs is something to behold.  Let me preface this by acknowledging my own skepticism toward both the epicness and the appeal of having over 10 stouts on tap at all times.  Big deal.  Who even wants to drink this much stout, right?  Well, apparently every beer drinker in Boulder!  The talk was not cheap!  It is truly something special.  The influx of amazing beers and variety of our constantly changing tap wall has made me change my mind.  Every day something new hits the wall that I have to try!  More than anything, it has been the guest taps that I have enjoyed the most.  We have gotten all of the best stouts, some of which are extremely small-batch, from local Colorado breweries.  New Belgium Lips of Faith, O’dell Lugene Chocolate Milk Stout, Renegade Peanut Butter Cup, Avery The Czar, Avery Tweak, Great Divide Oak-aged Coffee Imperial, and more from Ska, Strange Brewing, Telluride, Equinox, Cooper Smith, Left Hand, Elevation, Wynkoop, Boulder Beer, River North, Gravity, and more.  This in conjunction with our personal rotation of 40+ in-house stouts.  It’s a stout explosion.  But that’s not the only thing exploding.  Facial hair also explodes in odd forms and variety this month, as it is tradition for Stout Month to coincide with Chop Month.   

Mine was a small explosion.  More like a fire-cracker.

More bike goods to come, as they come funneling in, including my new 2013 singlespeed race bike build!  Cheers.

Peanut Butter, Ice Cream, and Dirt: Only Room for Two

Mostly in between cooking food, slanging beer, consuming one of these items (see: vegan) in the meantime, and riding my bike in beautiful places, I’ve been putting together a tentative schedule for the events I plan on attending in 2013.  In doing this I have realized how popular this sport has become, and how much variety there is to choose from.  I could race every weekend, sometimes twice a weekend, from April until September, if my budget was unlimited and legs were bionic.  Unfortunately I have to make some compromises.  I have decided that I will replace ice cream with peanut butter in my diet in an attempt to offset the costs of attending all of these events.  Also, instead of actually training for these races, and because cutting back on ice cream is training in itself, I will just use the races as expensive professional training sessions.  It will go something like this: “Training Session 1: Try to Keep up With the 30 Guys Ahead of You”, “Training Session 2: Try to Keep up With the 29 Guys Ahead of You”, and so on and so forth.  If I can make it through to Training Session 30 I may be ready to start racing.  There it is in a nutshell.  Of course, the nut will be crushed, turned into a nut butter and spread all over this blog for all to taste.  Sounds easy enough.

The process of formulating a schedule for next year continues to change and unfold.  Right when I think I have it all figured out, something else pops up.  Do I stick to local events and series and try to grow and progress locally?  This is the more affordable option.  Or do I hit the national scene, like the dorky ball boy trying to hoop it up at a Ruckers Park pick-up game?  

I don’t like getting dunked on.  Keep in mind, so far I have no financial support other than what I can personally muster from a meager income and a peanut butter diet.  What I will attempt is to do a little bit of both.  Last year, I dove head first into endurance racing, did pretty well, and enjoyed it very much.  I also did well in shorter cross country races. In 2013 the goal is to stay as varied as possible.  In addition to XC and endurance (now considered marathon), I will be attempting my first ultra-endurance races, which are all generally 100-mile efforts.  The National Ultra Endurance Series, or NUE, is a growing and very competitive series with some of the best races nationwide.  These NUE races, although I’ve never tried them before, are what I am most excited for.  I will attempt to do four NUE races, as the standings are compiled based on racers’ 4 best finishes.  Plus, it gives me an excuse to get back to the Midwest and see family.  Other than that there is a whole plethora of XC and marathon races just around the corner from me in Colorado.  The Rocky Mountain Endurance Series is the one I got my feet wet with this year, and believe it to be one of the most well-run and fun series going.  So here’s a preliminary list of races I hope to attend:

Sea Otter Classic, Monterey, CA, April 18-21 (paid for)

RME Indian Creek, Sedalia, CO, May 18

Gunnison Growler, Gunnison, CO, May 26 (paid for)

Mohican 100 (NUE), Loudonville, OH, June 1

Lumberjack 100 (NUE), Manistee, MI, June 15

Winter Park XC, June 29

Marathon Nationals, Sun Valley, ID, July 6

Breckenridge 100 (RME & NUE), Breckenridge, CO, July 14

High Cascades 100, Bend, OR, July 21

RME Tahosa, Ward, CO, August 4

Winter Park XC, August 10

Steamboat Stinger, Steamboat Springs, CO, August 18

RME Snake River, August 31

This entire schedule is, of course, very tentative.  Can I afford these events?  Can my body handle them?  Will I get dengue fever?  Will I discover my untapped love for sustainable maggot farming?  I don’t have the answers to any of these questions. There are some dingle berry’s hanging around in this poopy list.  Some could potentially get wiped away only to be replaced by others.  The hope is that it doesn’t all go down the toilet.

Some events I am sad to miss, but will one day attend:

XC Nationals, Whiskey  50, 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo, SS USA, Transylvania-Epic, BC Bike Race, Breck Epic, etc. etc. etc.

The last 3 are something I would think about scrapping an entire year for at some point down the road.  They are all week-long stage races in arguably the best riding spots in North America.  Pisgah, Breckenridge, British Columbia.  Mmmm Mmmm now that’s some tasty shit!  SS USA, and then subsequently SSWC, are more parties than race, which is why they will always be at the top of my list.  And then, just as I thought I had it all figured out, this came out:

The USAC Pro XCT calendar. It just so happens that I had planned on being in California during the month of March.  Should I entertain the idea of getting smoked by top-level pros?