Recreation Through Endurance

There are quintessential American adventures that people have in their mind as something barely on the edge of possible. Climbing Mt. Hood or hiking the AT. Exploits that are not competitive, not for bragging rights, but just for the experience. An expedition to do, just because it's there, or just because you can, or just because many people may dream about it but few will actually do it.

I'm going to be out of town for a couple weeks for work. On my weekend, I'm going to attempt such a thing and if things go as planned, I'll have a couple of good pictures to show you. In my absence, enjoy the trails and good luck at 12 hours of Lodi.

Nothing like a good ol' fashioned championship race to test your fitness and kick your ass. Today, like any downtown race should be, was hard and hot.

With the rain early in the week and working some OT, the new Rootbeer Float only had a slight dusting on it from hanging out in the living room. I'd walk past it, give the top tube a rub and either take out the road bike or go to work. It's been a difficult week for both of us. To make sure my legs could still move at reasonable speeds, I did take it out for a night ride friday to see if steel is really real and get used to the handling, since I really wanted to race it today. I'll spare you the day-after new bike report, maybe I'll do some write-up in a month or so.

Liz, who's turning into quite the multisporter, registered for the Sport Race, while I signed up for the longer, more stupid distance. Tons of people were there and I found it really exciting that so many people are working towards points for the Virginia Off-Road Series. Both the Sport race and the Championship race counted towards the series.

I still haven't talked to Liz about how her race went, but I know she finished strong. With a 5k Run, then 10k bike, then 2.5k run, this was about three steps harder than than the FORD she did a couple weeks ago, though on more familiar territory. I did ask her if she ever thought she'd be doing stuff like this and she just laughed.


After a lot of doubt and little training, my ability to do this thing was in doubt. I will say the night ride definantly helped with both loosening up my muscles and getting used to the super-fly new bike. After the gun, I knew better than to hold the front and tried to stick with Don Morrison, who, at twice my age, is a much faster runner. Instead, Cameron Rice, who was a close 2nd to me at FORD, and I paced off each other until he pulled away at the end of the 10k.

Like I always say when I get on the bike, "This is where the money's made." (Disclaimer: I don't make any money.) Other than the bars being too wide, the Rootbeer Float fits just about perfect. I struggled up a short grassy hill before hitting some pavement, and that's where things got good. I passed someone before hitting the wooden bridge above Tredegar. On Belle, I passed a couple of people, then more on the fireroad. I don't consider myself competitive, but it does feel good to get around people.

Going into Forest Hill, one guy said "Good Job! 15 back from the leader." I though "Wow, this is going well." I didn't feel as strong as I normally do on those hills, but I normally don't run a 10k first either. I passed about 7-8 guys in the park and on the way out, the same guy yelled "Good Job! 15 back from the leader." This guy was full of shit, but it did motivate me.

On the uphill to 22nd street, my handlebars clipped a tree, followed by my shoulder clipping the tree, followed by my calf locking up in a cramp. I hardly ever get cramps, so I'm attributing it to the first hot race of the year and not having sat around doing nothing for 2 weeks. I had to spend a couple minutes stretching it out where someone caught up with me, who traded drafting down the fireroad with.

The rest of the bike was fast and fun, but also wearing me down. Race pace means a lot of different things, and in a du or tri, it means saving yourself for the last run. By the time I changed shoes, I was feeling loose. Loose, not as in nimble or ready, but as in a noodle. Goal: keep jogging, but walk the stairs. I mostly did this until the end when the final uphill was just too much. I walked up it, but was running again before there were any spectators.

I ended up 16th overall and 6th in my age group. Not sure how big the fields were though. I've had a few rough races this year, both running and biking. The two good races I had were both dus. I'm starting to think the multisports are my niche. With Liz having done three already this year, you'll probably be able to find us at the next one.

(Chorus)
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
the, the root-beer salsa bluuuuues
riding the lazzzzzzy chaaaaair.

The brown suit man ain't here
Parts are missing, I fear
waitin' for brown suit man
to bring me my new cheer.

(Chorus)
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
the, the root-beer salsa bluuuuues
riding the lazzzzzzy chaaaaair.

The rain keeps comin' down
ridin' will get a frown
Downtown trails are all closed
It's wet all over town.

(Chorus)
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
the, the root-beer salsa bluuuuues
riding the lazzzzzzy chaaaaair.

Today might be the day
the day my blues are cured
if the brown suit will say
"Here, sir, your blues are cured."

(Chorus)
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
I've got the, the rooooot-beeeeer
the, the root-beer salsa bluuuuues
riding the lazzzzzzy chaaaaair.

Last year, things couldn't have gone better for riding in the spring. It seemed like it only rained on the days I worked and was beautiful on those I didn't. This year, our drought seems to have ended by raining purely on race days. Hilbert 1 was muddy, though not raining that particular day. Monument was rainy, Dragon's Back was muddy from a hard downpour that ended just before the start. Last weekend's FORD was forecasted for strong rain, but held off.

Today's Twisted Tire MTB Spring Cup will very well go down as the muddiest, dirtiest, filthiest race I've ever done. Previous spring cups have been soggy, like my first enduro, but nothing like this. This one was just ugly. So ugly, it didn't even get around to being painful.

Getting ready this morning, Liz kept looking at me with a mix of excitement and apprehension, similar to what I imagine a first sky-dive would be like. Driving north in the pouring rain, the grassy field was soggy before we got there. The rain lightened up some, even stopping now and then, for Liz's beginner women's class. I watched the start, then jumped into the woods to catch some pictures (coming soon, after I find the camera). By the time she rolled by after a mile or two, she was completely soaked and a little muddy too. When I saw her about mile 4, she looked even dirtier, but smiling the whole time. She scored a 6th of 15 and said she loved every minute of it.

Noon rolled around and I got ready to go off. The rain was coming down very hard and it was significantly colder than when Liz was racing. I was seriously doubting doing this thing. I just couldn't bring myself to quit before I started in front of so many people that would never let me hear the end of it. As soon at Laurie's bullhorn went off, I spent a little time getting my bike the go into the big ring putting me last onto the singletrack but forgetting completely that a few minutes prior I wasn't wanted to do it. At the first whoop, when mud splashed on my already dirty legs and everyone's brakes were squealing in a harsh synchronized song, I forgot all doubt why I was out there.

Before the start, I decided just to ride 4 7-mile laps and be happy finishing, riding in conditions I normally wouldn't touch. Getting on the back and chasing people down actually sounded like a good plan. I think I was too far in the back though. The first couple miles, like always, I was just keeping up and letting things spread out a little. By the time we hit the RDT section, I needed to start gaining ground. One racer about 5-6 guys up was slowing the rest of us behind him down and separating the field. I made a few "suggestive comments" to pass the guy, but no one seemed to want to make the move. I just starting passing until I got to the front of this little group and never saw them again.

Getting into the hills, my brakes were howling, like everyone elses. When I got into the flats, I tried to kick it up, but the mud was so deep everywhere, there was no momentum. Where I could normally fly in something like a 42x14 or so, I couldn't keep any speed. I couldn't even tell how fast I was going because my computer was covered in mud. That organic, leafy, dank, stinky, wet dirt was coating everything and making it hard to keep upright and moving. I was riding in a squint and still blinking to get the mud out of the eyes. Once I stopped completely, but couldn't find a clean spot of clothes to wipe my dirty hands on so I could dig the mud out of my eye. I just rode on blinking hard and fast in one eye and squinting in the other trying to chase the guy who just passed me down.

I took 4 gels and a bottle of drink with me. I figured one gel between the laps and no camelbak needed since it wasn't hot. Crossing the field after the first lap, I pulled a gel from my pocket, which was covered in mud and instinctually wiped it on my shorts which did nothing. I just went for it and took some of the trail down with it. Nothing like banana flavored sugary dirt to get you reved up for another few laps. I tried riding without hands while eating, but even on flat land, the bike wouldn't stay straight in those conditions. Now for lap 2.

Disc brakes are great. Modulation, power-to squeeze ratio, very strong, dry. Except when the mud is 5" deep at all times. By the end of the first lap, I knew I was losing braking power. Once into the hills on lap 2, it was real bad. What should've been fast downhill even in those conditions, were slow and cautious and I still ran off the trail too many times. When I got to the fence, I knew I wouldn't finish. Perhaps I could've finished the flats, but that would've been all. There was no way I could complete two more laps on those brakes without testing the quality of my health insurance. It wasn't going to happen and I called it a day.

On the way back to the start/finish, I ran into a couple other DNFers. When I got back to the pavilion, Schuppert was dressed in jeans and a Lummox shirt. The same thing happened to him on his race. I changed clothes and cleaned up as well as I could with a towel and went back to talk to a dozen other racers that DNFed for brake problems too. I heard a couple drivetrain complaints, but mostly it was the brakes.

Looking at the results, many DNSs which may have been scared off my the weather. Tons of DNFs and I'm sure 90% were brake related. Someone could've easily done well just by finishing the race. I saw one guy running the downhills because he couldn't ride them. That's hard-core dedication.

I stuck around to watch people finish that didn't have and inch of skin showing through the mud and barely recognizable bikes. People that placed stuck around for the awards, but no one else. I don't even think it can be called a race, since that implies speed. This was just sticking it out if the bike would let you. I saw Paula finish second in expert women. Her titanium frame normally deserved respect, but today, it was her good ol' fashioned rim brakes that carried her day.

I have been just swamped this week. 60 hours at work, plus "entertaining" (read: drinking beer) out-of-town engineers, and, well, that's about it. No exercise, no riding, no running, nothing fun. Hopefully, the extra OT will help pay for my... oh, I can't tell you yet.

Last weekend was the Fredricksburg Off-Road Duathlon, put on by FredEvents and part of the VORS. What a great race by a great promoter. Konrad and his wife Emily put on an awesome event on some killer-tough trails. There was the Beginner course, which Liz did, and the Advanced course, which I did. I had talked my friend Brent into doing the long course even though he hasn't run in years. I thought, despite how fast he's gotten on the bike, maybe I could beat him at a du.

There was a short fireroad run, followed by a long, super-steep trail uphill that would have been near impossible to climb if the rain that was forecasted had come. Two more miles of sometimes hilly, sometimes twisty singletrack running.

Switching to the bike, there was some of the hardest trail I've raced on. Short, steep climbs with descents that didn't allow time to recover. About 5 miles in, I figured I was close to being done, but still had another 5 to go. Even after getting out of the hills and along the Rappahannock, it was still so twisty that you couldn't get up any speed. The coolest part was riding through the tunnel under I-95 where it was so dark you couldn't see the rocks under the tires, but just had to aim for the light at the end. This was where Brent passed me.

Racking up my bike without seeing Brent again, I did the same run look again and kept it quick, passing several guys, but never saw Brent. Turns out I had passed him back on the bike when he got off course. That's bike racing for you.

What really made the race great and so much fun was the after party. Konrad and company provided some small kegs and more BBQ than could possibly go around. Liz ended up 3rd in her age group scoring a trophy, while I took 1st and very cool FORD travel mug. Not yet having a good race this year, I was starting to hope I wasn't past my prime.

Tomorrow's the Poor Farm race, with only a 90% chance of heavy rain. After not doing anything all week, it'll be an adventure.

Doubling up may not be the best idea. This weekend held a couple of rough, energy sucking races with ambitious goals that put my fitness and racability into doubt.

First off, Congratulations to Liz who completed her first 10k. She did very well and the 10k training team she was on paid off. We're already signed up for the Carytown 10k next month.

Monument was a lesson in running if there ever was one. I don't care how good you think you are, stick to your race stategy. Being stupid is a bad idea and I should know that. I really do believe I'm stronger and faster than last year, but this didn't show it. Negative splits, slow first mile, all the good advice I didn't follow.

I lined up near the front of the "B" wave and kept a good starting pace. There was so much delay between the start of the As and Bs that I actually felt like we were the front of the field. This was the first time in a long time that I wore a watch during a race, and was going to use it to get my splits to see if I was on track. To get my 42 minutes, I'd have to average 6:45s.

At the end of the first mile, I checked my watch, still sticking with the front of the B group, and had a 6:29. Those who had this as their slow first mile picked it up and left me to to get passed. I knew I had to slow down and did just that. 2nd mile was 6:53, which was better. I was ahead of schedule, but really doubted that I could hold it.

3rd mile was 7:18 for a 21:32 5k. More important than the 5k split was that I was slowing, significantly. After a 7:23 4th mile, I was demoralized, knowing I wasn't even going to beat my 43:48 from last year. I stopped watching split and was just wrapping it up for a 45:49. It was actually my first 10k that I didn't PR in. I know I can't PR forever, but I felt I'd trained well. I just didn't execute.

Somehow, in my "do whatever's hard" mentality, I was pretty easily talked into the Dragon's Back XXC. You may remember from last year what a misguided adventure that was. But, like the SM100, I had to come back and finish what I started. With legs still fatigued from Monument (not to mention the energy drain I felt from standing around in the cold rain after the 10k), Brent and I drove out to the Jefferson National Forest to race.


At the registration tent, Kyle, the race director who remembered what happened to me last year, said "It's much warmer this year" and I replied "...and a lot drier too." Truth is, it was still 50 degrees and the rain had stopped as we were approaching the race start.

I really don't know what was harder, dragging my bike through the woods last year or actually following the course this year. Word is that a wind storm came through a couple weeks ago and blew all the leaves on top of the ridge, which covered the large and sharp rocks that the course is famous for. Most of the uphills were hike-a-bike and the downhills where skittish, full-on, ride-the-brakes descents.

Brent had a derailuer issue and I stopped to make a quick adjustment to his bike and afterwards, he, myself, and Paul Leeger rode together for most of the ridge. While on the ridge, my brakes were starting to soften up, so even when I could normally make up some time, it was slow going for fear of loosing control. By the time I got down to the fireroad, the back brake was useless.

I'm sure it was part due to the 10k, part due to underestimating the challenge (again), part due to the 6-7 2-3 foot deep creeks I had to forge where I could feel my body temperature drop, but mostly due to knowing I couldn't make it down the mountain again even if I did make it up that drained my reserves. It was a slow ride back to the start/finish where I again had to tell the officials that I didn't finish properly.

The weekend was exhausting and disappointing. The brakes were out of my control, but I still should've been able to put in better performances for the rest of the races. Should I learn not to double-up races? Maybe... Should I prepare better? Yes. Mostly, I need to not take these things for granted, because if I want to do well, it's going to take more than just showing up and calling myself ready to go.

As for that 42 to minute 10k, Carytown is May 18th. As for slaying the dragon, Kyle's expecting me back next year.