Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Video LSF in the fall on a mt bike
Another video featuring some excellent fall foliage (and music to boot)
Monday, September 29, 2014
Thursday, September 25, 2014
12 hrs of Bradbury recap
12 hrs of Bradbury Mt,, Men's Sport Solo race recap (9.20.14)
What better way to wrap up a fantastically difficult and fun mt bike racing season then with a 12 hr solo race in one of the best places for mt biking in New England? That is exactly what I thought as I snailed through traffic on 495 on the Friday evening of September 19th on my up to Pownal Maine.
On my drive up I had ample time to recall all 9 races I had completed this season (with the 10th soon to be completed). I learned a lot about myself as a racer over the course of the season, especially on what nutrition works best for me, how to best handle my training and racing schedules, and the importance of rest.
I was reviewing my strategy in my head, determined not to repeat the mistakes I made at the 12 hrs of Millstone in July, where I essentially rode for 10 hrs and blew up. I knew I hadn't eaten enough and had far too many Gu packets. I had brought several Gu's with me for this race, but this time I was going to rely on easily digestible "real" food for the bulk of my calories. In my cooler I had 4 bananas, 3 vita coco drinks, a bag of pretzel sticks, a jar of lightly salted peanuts, and dark chocolate. This was to be the fuel I would rely on for the day and I knew I could handle it because I essentially eat this food all the time.
I arrived at Bradbury Mt an hour later then I intended due to heavy and slow traffic. I got to work setting up my one man tent and cooking my dinner (Knorr sides). This time I was also going to have a real breakfast of oatmeal 2 hours before the start of the race. I chatted with several other races around the communal fire pits and then headed for my slumber.
I woke up at 3 am shivering in my 40 degree rated sleeping bag because it grew unusually cold over night. I do not know what the temperature was but another racer noted the presence of frost and when we woke up, it was very, very cold. So cold in fact that the brake lines on my bike were acting quite odd. They were bound up and very sluggish for braking for the first 15 minutes of my warm up. I got to work making my breakfast and putting on as many layers as I could so as to not lose much body heat.
The race started at 8 am after a 15 minute pre-race meeting. We left in waves separated by 2 minutes. The first few minutes were fast and freezing. I managed to wear a long sleeve jersey as a base layer, but quickly warmed up over the first 7 mile lap. I came in to the lap check in tent and pulled over to take off my base layer. I rode the next 2 laps wearing short sleeves and barely broke a sweat. When I came in to the check in tent spectators were wearing down jackets and wool hats. I knew it was cold because I could only stop for 5-10 minutes to eat and drink before I would start to shiver and at the start of every new lap I would be cold until the first hill.
The course was a very fun, but brutal track. It featured tight and twisty single track that was littered with tree roots. There weren't too many hills, and the ones that were there were short and steep. There were several bridge crossings including one that was built so that the first portion was 5 feet from the ground. This was always hair raising and fun!
At the start of my 4th lap I put on arm warmer sleeves that I kept on for the remainder of the race. During my 5th lap I had the first feelings of severe back pain that is so common in these races and for the first time in the race I contemplated quitting, calling it a day and heading home. I made a pact with myself that I would try to ride until I had completed 9 laps which would equate to a respectable 100km of single track, and then if I felt like I couldn't go on I would stop.
However, a funny thing happened on my way to completing 9 laps. After the 6th lap my back was completely wrecked, so I took off my camelbak, and put my spare tube and gu packs in my jersey pockets and moved my tire changing tools and pump to the bento box attached to my frame. I also grabbed my asthma inhaler and put it in there in case the cold squeezed off my air ways. I made sure my water bottle was full and added race-supplied Heed to it, and I took off.
I immediately felt like a new person. All of my lethargy went away, I got my morale and energy back, and best of all my shoulders and back felt fantastic! I then knew I would be able to complete 9 laps and I made a new pact with myself. I agreed that I would ride until they made me stop!
I came into my 8th lap and by this time I had to start carrying lights. The sun was starting to go down and it was getting dark in the woods, however I conserved the light batteries by not using them until I absolutely would have to. Lap 8 came and went and lap 9 was initiated, and I still felt great!
My body was starting to show signs of fatigue and despite not having the camelbak on, my back and shoulders were once again getting sore. Lap 9 was completed and I pulled over to eat some food and take stock. It was 6:10 pm when I started lap 10. The rules were that the last lap had to be initiated by 7 pm in order for the rider to be allowed to continue. It was also getting very, very dark. I knew that there was not going to be an 11th lap, but there was certainly going to be a 10th.
Now, 10 laps during a 12 hr solo would be a new personal record for me. In addition I had been riding for 10 hrs and 10 minutes, which was also a new personal best. I turned on my lights and put them both on medium setting to conserve the battery. I knew I had about 3 hrs on this setting and I knew (hoped) it wouldn't take me that long to complete the 10th lap.
Riding the single track in the dark with lights and 10 hours of riding behind me was a whole new experience. The trail started to get wet with a light covering of dew and things started to get very treacherous. In addition, it got eerily quiet and lonely out there with the darkness encapsulating me from all sides. After awhile, all I could see was the swath of trail laid out before me by my lights. Anything outside of that field of view might as well have been non-existent, it was that dark in there.
There were a few spots that made me feel very uncomfortable riding in the dark. I could hear all sorts of things in the forest, but I could not see any of them. I started to get a little panicky, but then I was immediately calmed by one thought.
I had been riding my bike longer, and further then I have ever ridden in my entire life. I had completed 1, 7 mile lap for every single race of my 2014 season. And I was about to accomplish a physical feat I have never achieved before, and thought was impossible. I had gone from the brink of quitting 7 hours earlier only to commit to a challenge that was molding my very character as I was thinking these things.
This thought gave me goose bumps, and brought tears to my eyes. I felt overwhelmed by emotions of accomplishment and satisfaction. I had shown extreme perseverance and had proven to myself that I have what it takes to take on and complete enormous challenges; to meet them head on and not only do what I say I am going to do, but push through the pain and suffering to prove to myself that anything is possible; and these profound emotions were carrying me home.
As I grew closer to the finish I could hear faint cheers of spectators cheering riders in. I started to ride with a quicker pace. I turned the last corner to see a set of torches and pulled into the approach of my last lap. I was announced on a loud speaker and faced a cacophony of cheers from perfect strangers, but it couldn't have been sweeter. As I crossed the finish line I held my fist high.
I had ridden for 11 hrs and 20 minutes, covering 70 miles of technical and rooty single track. I had placed 5th out of 21 sport solo riders. But most of all completed the crowning achievement of my mountain bike racing career and finished the 2014 season with my head held high. I slept contented and awoke with a smile gazing into what 2015 has to offer.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
A set of 50's in September in Southeast New England
A set of 50's in September in Southeast New England
Landmine and Freetown? What exactly do these two have in common? Well, they both take place in September, they are both in Massachusetts (Southern New England), they are both littered with rock gardens deposited from the last ice age (a staple of Southern New England riding, and really Northeast riding in general), and they both offer 50 mile options. Oh and did I mention they are only a week apart?
I couldn't surpass the chance to challenge myself against 2 very difficult races with very difficult recovery/tapering in between. The races are just as challenging as figuring out how to do the recovery and taper in between.
I had done Landmine a few years back on a mamba hardtail. The mamba was on ok bike, but it wasn't for me. I found the bike to be heavy and rough. Not exactly a racing bike, but tough enough for a 50, or so I thought. The bike handled decently enough, but it did manage to beat the crap out of me. I finished, although barely, at just under 7 hours. And I remember experiencing a kind of pain I hadn't felt in many, many years.
This year I was determined to break that record and come out in tact and not crying in a fetal position in the corner. I brought the Epic and was very glad that I did. Sections of landmine were still very rough, but were manageable with an FSR and the brain shock set in the middle for dampening. My first lap was fast and felt great. I managed to come in in about 2 and a half hours. My second lap was slower and more annoying. My last 5 miles really got me in a mood. I was sick of getting tossed around like a pin ball. So I turned that negativity into a tirade only a sailor would be proud of and pushed it hard against the course. I managed to come in at a respectable 5 hours and 17 minutes. I had shattered my PR from all those years back, and better yet, proved to myself that I could rematch a course that had destroyed me all those years ago, and then I realized that I don't have to come back now :)
A week later I found myself pulling into the Freetown State Forest at an earlier hour then I would usually be awake on a Sunday. I was ready to sample the Freetown 50. I had heard that this forest is haunted and possessed by a little creature known as the puckwudgie, a gremlin like creature that likes to lure unsuspecting people into the woods and push them to their deaths.
Now, I did not get lured anywhere except to a trail that was as technically difficult as it was beautiful. The Freetown 50 is one of those courses that really manages to shred everything it touches. Bikes, biceps, bipedals, it doesn't matter. Whatever rides through these trails comes out the other side tenderized, traumatized, and tantalized! To say the course was difficult is an understatement. The first 8 miles of this course were like nothing I have ever seen in a 50 mile race. I'm not sure I was breathing much through this section. It required the kind of concentration only a Swiss watch maker has mastered. From what I remember (please excuse me as my brain, like the rest of me, experience quit a bit of vibrational trauma) the course was gorgeous, and tough. Whenever we rode on single track it was littered with rocks.
There weren't many roots here, there was no room for them as they had no way of penetrating the quarry of rocks. Concentrating on the line was not only recommended here, it was necessary if you were to survive. Falling on any rocky section here would mean an instant DNF and most likely a trip to the ER. There was one section called the "demotivator" that really should have been named "the bone breaker". The rocks here were more like small boulders.
I managed to come in at 5 hrs and 35 minutes. A decent time considering the terrain and what it did to my bike. After the first 5 miles of the course my bike began to ghost shift. Then after the first lap my shock became over-pressurized and I didn't fix it until the last 10 miles (but thank goodness I did). When I finished it took me a good 2 hours before I felt like I could drive the 1.5 hrs home without passing out. I didn't feel right until after a 1 hour sports massage where the masseuse informed me that they successfully broke up the 30 knots in my shoulders, neck, and back! My bike didn't come out unscathed either. A trip to the shop revealed the need for a new chain and a tune up, as my wheels were knocked off true (what a surprise).
Still, the course was a rip. Definitely a gem of a course for New England (or anywhere!), and definitely tough. I think next year I'll leave the Epic at home and opt for a heavier, slower bike, one with 6" of travel :)
Landmine and Freetown? What exactly do these two have in common? Well, they both take place in September, they are both in Massachusetts (Southern New England), they are both littered with rock gardens deposited from the last ice age (a staple of Southern New England riding, and really Northeast riding in general), and they both offer 50 mile options. Oh and did I mention they are only a week apart?
I couldn't surpass the chance to challenge myself against 2 very difficult races with very difficult recovery/tapering in between. The races are just as challenging as figuring out how to do the recovery and taper in between.
I had done Landmine a few years back on a mamba hardtail. The mamba was on ok bike, but it wasn't for me. I found the bike to be heavy and rough. Not exactly a racing bike, but tough enough for a 50, or so I thought. The bike handled decently enough, but it did manage to beat the crap out of me. I finished, although barely, at just under 7 hours. And I remember experiencing a kind of pain I hadn't felt in many, many years.
This year I was determined to break that record and come out in tact and not crying in a fetal position in the corner. I brought the Epic and was very glad that I did. Sections of landmine were still very rough, but were manageable with an FSR and the brain shock set in the middle for dampening. My first lap was fast and felt great. I managed to come in in about 2 and a half hours. My second lap was slower and more annoying. My last 5 miles really got me in a mood. I was sick of getting tossed around like a pin ball. So I turned that negativity into a tirade only a sailor would be proud of and pushed it hard against the course. I managed to come in at a respectable 5 hours and 17 minutes. I had shattered my PR from all those years back, and better yet, proved to myself that I could rematch a course that had destroyed me all those years ago, and then I realized that I don't have to come back now :)
A week later I found myself pulling into the Freetown State Forest at an earlier hour then I would usually be awake on a Sunday. I was ready to sample the Freetown 50. I had heard that this forest is haunted and possessed by a little creature known as the puckwudgie, a gremlin like creature that likes to lure unsuspecting people into the woods and push them to their deaths.
Now, I did not get lured anywhere except to a trail that was as technically difficult as it was beautiful. The Freetown 50 is one of those courses that really manages to shred everything it touches. Bikes, biceps, bipedals, it doesn't matter. Whatever rides through these trails comes out the other side tenderized, traumatized, and tantalized! To say the course was difficult is an understatement. The first 8 miles of this course were like nothing I have ever seen in a 50 mile race. I'm not sure I was breathing much through this section. It required the kind of concentration only a Swiss watch maker has mastered. From what I remember (please excuse me as my brain, like the rest of me, experience quit a bit of vibrational trauma) the course was gorgeous, and tough. Whenever we rode on single track it was littered with rocks.
There weren't many roots here, there was no room for them as they had no way of penetrating the quarry of rocks. Concentrating on the line was not only recommended here, it was necessary if you were to survive. Falling on any rocky section here would mean an instant DNF and most likely a trip to the ER. There was one section called the "demotivator" that really should have been named "the bone breaker". The rocks here were more like small boulders.
I managed to come in at 5 hrs and 35 minutes. A decent time considering the terrain and what it did to my bike. After the first 5 miles of the course my bike began to ghost shift. Then after the first lap my shock became over-pressurized and I didn't fix it until the last 10 miles (but thank goodness I did). When I finished it took me a good 2 hours before I felt like I could drive the 1.5 hrs home without passing out. I didn't feel right until after a 1 hour sports massage where the masseuse informed me that they successfully broke up the 30 knots in my shoulders, neck, and back! My bike didn't come out unscathed either. A trip to the shop revealed the need for a new chain and a tune up, as my wheels were knocked off true (what a surprise).
Still, the course was a rip. Definitely a gem of a course for New England (or anywhere!), and definitely tough. I think next year I'll leave the Epic at home and opt for a heavier, slower bike, one with 6" of travel :)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)