Sunday, August 17, 2014

Leadville 100 2014 -- Part 3

Columbine and the Eating Contest

Hour 3:15 of the Leadville 100. I had consumed 1 or 2 GU packs, and 2 dilute bottles of carborocket. Total intake:  about 400 calories. Total expected:  900-1000. This my friends is called a calorie deficit.  

Of course, I did not realize my situation.  All I knew was I was continuing to ride relatively fast through this beautiful Colorado morning, and I had a plan. I was going to turn on the power at the left hand turn onto the real slopes of Columbine, take a risk, and burn some matches in an all-out push for the top. I would make or break my race here, and if my legs were able to give as well as I felt, maybe get myself back to close to a 9-hour pace. 

Crossing the ranch gate, I decided as soon as I saw the lead moto, I would hit the gas. When the moto came by, signaling the real race leaders were just behind, I was just turning left onto the Columbine road.  This was a bit of a victory for me, as last year, I was passed by the moto while still in the Twin Lakes aid.   Todd Wells went by the picture of composure dressed in Stars and Stripes kit of the American champion. Quickly some combination of Alban Lakata, Christoph Sausser, and some others came by. Really is amazing to see pros riding.  They really never look like they are working.

Now firmly into the climb I added gear, and stood on the pedals to put in a big 30 second effort and get some mojo going. 

Except that 30 second effort had me barely moving.  I had nothing.  No juice. No zip. No mojo. Nothing to get me moving faster despite my calls to the engine room for more power. 

I settled into a steadier seated climb, and let the HR come back a bit. I took another tug of water and tried to think of what was happening.  I was lighter, fitter, on a hard tail... That's when I started counting the calories I had taken on so far. Something like 500, counting the sandwich I had just eaten at Twin Lakes. 3:40 into the LT100, and I had eaten 500 calories. 

OOPS

I ripped a GU off my top tube, washed it down with a couple big swigs of Carborocket, and willed my stomach to do its thing and start processing calories. I looked at the computer. I would down another GU at 4:10, and make sure to drink more Carborocket. I knew there's no way to actually make up for a calorie deficit, but I was going to try. 

The problem with the strategy I chose is pretty clear. It's really hard to eat a lot when you're climbing close to your limit just to keep moving forward, you're above 10000', and going up, and you're also thinking about making up some time. 

Very quickly the Carborocket started to taste like paste (and Carborocket Lemonade flavor 333 is pretty good stuff). As 4:10 approached, the thought of eating a GU turned my stomach, and I began to feel a bit nauseous. 

None of this was good.  Columbine is already a relentless climb.  The base is higher than any of the famous European climbs, and it's on dirt.  Add to that my massive calorie deficit, and I was in trouble. And I knew it.  Looking down, I had about 4 miles to go on the climb, and I was going to suffer the whole way.  I entered survival mode....there was no other gear, no mental well to go to to make myself go faster.  I'd run my muscles dry of glycogen, and until I could get enough calories down and let the machine process, I was simply not going very fast.   

There are a few folks who have called bike races eating contests masquerading as athletic events.  Biju Thomas and Allen Lim of Skratch labs fame talk about it.  Fat Cyclist (the definitive LT 100 blogger if you ask me) talks about it, and every year with the Tour de France on TV they do a segment on how much riders eat on a tour stage.  They say the best riders are not always the fittest, they are the ones that can east the most while riding the hardest.  I had lost this year's eating contest, not because I was not ready for it...but because I forgot to enter it. Not eating in the LT100?  Not a mistake a 43-year old buckle holder is supposed to make.  Leave that one for the rookies and the 20-somethings.  What a dummy.  Can't win if you don't play....and all my cards were in little 100-calories packs in my jersey pocket and taped to my top-tube...taunting me.

I was now in a dark place physically, but also mentally and emotionally.   I should have been the one passing people on Columbine.  Instead I was stuck in my smallest gear, barely moving the bike up the hill.  Lots of opportunities to grab a wheel and use it for motivation, but nothing.  The Pain Train led by Rebecca Rusch came down the mountain, no pop.  I was mad at myself, going slow, and feeling like crap.

So I ground it out.  I kept moving, did not succumb to the siren song of stopping to take pictures of the lake a few thousand feet below.  I kept pushing the fluids, and whenever I thought I might not vomit, took in more calories.  2.5 hours later I was turning around at the aid station, grabbing an open GU from an awesome volunteer, and heading down for the return trip.  At least I did not make the mistake of hanging out at the top of Columbine...one thing going well.

I made the descent and started to feel better along the way.  I passed Randy suffering on the Goat Trail, gave him a quick cheer.  Ken was in his usual spot, mounted on his 4-wheeler in short sleeves.  I yelled, "don't let em quit Ken!" He yelled back "no quitters...no one quits!"

Once past the rocky section, the descent was pretty awesome.  I was going a lot faster than i remember going last year, laid off the brakes, and even drifted a few turns.  My stomach started to feel a lot better, and I managed to pop a few calories in when we started across the ranch towards the dam.

I came into the aid station pretty tired.  Just over 6 hours.  Not really where I wanted to be...except it was exactly where I wanted to be!  My crew of mom, Priya,  Farooq, and Layla were waiting.  I was in the Leadville 100 for the 2nd year, it was an amazing day, and I was going to ride my bike for another 45 miles in Colorado. I downed a bottle and a half, ate some more, dumped the trash, reloaded on GUs and bottles, and got ready to head out.  

My sister asked if I was still going for 9.  "uhhh...no.  Not any more."  I still thought 10 or 10:30 was in sight.  I could get the next 45 miles in 4 hours or less surely, especially since I seemed to feel better.  

So, hugs all around, I told everyone I'd seem them in 4, or maybe 5 hours.  They headed back to the houses for naps, and I headed out on the trail back to the pipeline aid station.

Click here for part 4!

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Leadville 100 2014 -- Part 2

Riding Really Fast


I've done this once.  I have the hardware to prove it.  There's a lot of writing out there about the Leadville family, the draw of 10,200', the toughness of the  course, and the kindness of the competitors.  And you know, it's all true.

Once you have that 12-hour buckle, it looks big.  Then you see a big one.  The ones that they hand out for being one of the less than 20%ish that can get out and back in under 9 hours.  It is very shiny.  It is very pretty.  Once you have seen it, you must possess a Big Buckle.  

And so it was I came to Leadville in 2014.  Wanting a big buckle.  It would take a lot of luck to come in under 9, but if everything went perfectly, there was an outside chance I could pull it off.

The gun had just gone off, and 90 seconds of toe dabbing and scooting later I was going 25mph down 6th street.  Then I was going 30mph+.  Being very scared of the big crash, I stayed to the left, avoided getting into big bunches, and tried to make sure I always had an "out".  Sure enough, as we made the turn onto 9A for the final long downhill to the dirt, I heard the "BANG!" followed by crunching and scraping just to my right.  Someone had touched wheels at 30mph and gone down hard.  More pileups as heads swiveled around to look at the carnage, and one guy in front of me swerved right following his head around.  I kept my head up, and kept moving, as I figured at this stage (the "Neutral" roll out - HA! ) the downed rider would have no issues getting help.  

As we crossed the train tracks and hit the dirt I was feeling pretty strong. Riders were 3 wide on the dirt road, and sometimes the available line was not perfect.  I moved up whenever I could, tried hard to avoid getting stuck behind the slow guy, and focused on not crashing.  I succeeded, and as we crossed the cattle guard for the grind up St Kevins, I relaxed just a little bit. At least at 5-8mph, any crash was going to be more irritating than painful.

The St Kevins climb was uneventful, my legs felt good, and as I turned left onto the road I was able to power up the speed a bit. I told Marilee I loved her (Fatty says tell Merilee you love her, so I do.  Plus I really do love that lady) as I took the sharp right for the decent to the road.

I turned on to Turquoise Lake road for the long down hill, and I checked my computer.  55 minutes.  6 minutes faster than last year.  10% faster in fact.  Not bad Mr Bery, not bad at all.

Before the road really tipped down, I slurped down a GU (Lemonade Roctane -- YUMMY!  wish I had more than one, the rest were chocolate raspberry.  Chocolate raspberry you are good, but you are no lemonade) and took a swing from the bottle.  For those of you paying attention, you will look at the time I just mentioned, know I've gone about 10 miles, and thought about the number of calories I have so far consumed.  

The next climb up Turquoise Lake road, Hagermans Pass road, and the back side of Sugarloaf were where I planned to make up a lot of time.  I wanted to be 30 minutes faster than last year, possibly 45.   With the day as perfect as it was, and my legs feeling good, I figured it was a possibility, so I added a few gears, and looked for wheels to follow.  

Before I new it I was on the "trail" portion of the climb, and was pretty much alone.  It seemed I had climbed past the folks in the immediate vicinity, which meant I'd likely have a few minutes on the Powerline descent without someone breathing down my neck.  This was good, as I am not the world's fastest descender, and having someone over my shoulder makes me really nervous, mistake prone and slow.

There were only 2 places on Powerline I thought my day was over.  The first was near the top when the forest road-like trail is a little wider, and the dirt a little gabbier.  I had some good speed going and next thing I new I was airborne.  

I was airborne with my weight forward and my bike rotating to the front wheel.  My brain said only one thing, and my mouth said the same.  Starts with "F" rhymes with "Luck".  I said it loud.  Really loud.  And long.  You all know what I mean.

After what felt like a good 6 seconds in the air, but was likely closer to .6, my front wheel hit the ground, my jaws clanged together, and thanks to my Bonty XR2s (hooray Kaolin at the Flat Tire for telling me those are the best tires ever, and hooray Joey at Shadetree for getting them from Kaolin for me!), and a little luck, I kept rolling down Powerline.  

The next time I thought I was going to die was when there was another crash 2 bikes in front of me.  Poor guy had his wheel slip out into one of the massive ruts, and went right over the bars.  I already had both brakes grabbed hard, and my bike was going to keep going the speed it was going.  There were spectators there, so once again, I absolved myself of any guilt of not stopping and continued to move down Powerline's kitty litter covered surface as fast as I could.

I made it to the road breathing as hard as if I had been sprinting for 15 minutes instead of descending.  My heart rate was in the stratosphere -- that's how intense that descent is.  I looked at the computer.  2:00.  Not bad.  I was 30 minutes ahead of last year, but 15 minutes short of where I rally wanted to be for a comfortable sub-9.  Still feeling good, I figured I would push hard for the next 20 miles, and take some fitness risks while climbing Columbine to see if I could get back on pace.  

I managed to hold a few wheels on the way to Pipeline, though one really fast train passed that I could not grab onto.  The Pipeline to Twinlakes segment was again fast, but not nearly as fast as I wanted.  I came in to Twinlakes at 3:15.  Well off a sub-9 pace, but really, well on a very respectable pace.  10:00 or even 9:30 was well within reach.  No reason to back off and cruise through the next 60 miles...

My aid station crew was well prepped. Having done this once, they knew to swap bottles, make me eat a almond butter wrap, hand over a few GUs, and give me a bottle to chug.  Nice and fast -- great to have that awesome crew of my sister, mother, brother-in-law, and of course my 2.75 year old niece.  She really holds the entire crew together if you ask me.  

I saw in the next tent a really nice floor pump.  Remembering my tire was soft, I asked with some urgency and a whole lot of niceness if I could borrow the pump.  Connecting the pump the gauge showed I was down on the rear almost 10 pounds from ideal.  I wonder if that slowed me down?  I also noticed a serious lack of Randy's crew.  Seems there was a bit of a SNAFU on the food bag, and Randy's crew was conspicuously absent.  Hmmmm....walking a 1/2 marathon and leaving the food bag at the condo...a very interesting Leadville 100 strategy from Mr Gunzer I must say.

I clicked in, and headed out for the Columbine climb.  I had a lot of GU in my back pocket.  Really a lot for someone who was supposed to be eating 2 per hour, or at a minimum one every 45 minutes.  I also had the same 3 GUs taped to my top tube that I was supposed to eat early in traffic...

If you sense foreboding, you're right on track.  The climb to Columbine mine would be where I lost the eating contest.

Click here for part 3...
...Click here to go back to part 1

Friday, August 15, 2014

Leadville 100 2014 -- Part 1

The Year Prior


Most anyone reading this knows I got my Leadville buckle in 2013.  Life goal accomplished.  Trail and shop cred earned for many a year to come.  Most of you also know I'm just a little obsessed with the whole thing, so going back for year 2 was never really a discussion.  It was really just a matter of how fast I was going to go.  By the time I got back from iceman I was thinking about a new bike.  Hardtail for sure.  Carbon of course.  I was pretty sure I was going to get a Trek Superfly, but ended up with a Giant XTC SL1 thanks to some good friends.  

Sirina told him to look after me

The monetary investment made, I started to work on myself.  I gained some strength, increased my 90 second power output average to the 475W range, and dropped some weight.  I changed the nutrition plan all around to become a fat burning machine.  I turned down the intensity of the long rides, and put in base miles and miles and miles.  Saturday and Sunday mornings were all about 4am alarms, and 4:45 departs, always trying to get home before the girls were out of their pyjamas. 



One of the hardest parts of Leadville is getting in the race.  Demand far exceeds supply...I managed to not get in via the lottery, wrote and essay, and got myself into the race by committing to wear a Lifetime Fitness kit.  I like Lifetime, but at Leadville, I'd rather be seen in a kit from here or here or even here.

View from the Farrett's House
I had kind of a miserable 3 weeks of riding leading up to race day.  2 flats at the Tahoe Trail 100, and rides where I just did not feel myself.  1 long ride ended in my getting sick next to the house, another with me writhing in pain from dehydration cramps for hours after the ride.    

Hoping all my bad karma was spent in those three weeks, got myself loaded into the minivan, took the kids to their first day of school, and headed on up to Leadville.  AS with last year, the drive was amazing.  Scottsdale, Flagstaff, Monument Valley, Monticello, Moab, Grand Junction, Glenwood Springs, Minturn...and then Leadville.  Really, does the American West get more amazing?  No, not really.



My friend Randy was riding this year, and lets just say his week of acclimating and course previewing was interesting.  One does not usually recommend a 13 mile hike in cycling shoes the week of Leadville...but to each his own.

My favorite Leadville souvenier

Thursday night I went to Rebecca Rusch's book launch party.  Got a "Rusch to Glory" signed for the girls, and headed back to the house to await my crew.  We were staying at a house in Leadville this year, which made everything so much easier.  If you're thinking about doing Leadville, I highly recommend finding a way to stay in town...






Friday we got up early, connected with Randy and his crew Scott and Brian.  We headed out to the Twin Lakes aid station early, set up the pop up, dropped off chairs and water, and had the entire rest of the day to rest and get ready.  We were so much more organized and relaxed than last year, it was going to be totally awesome!

Rebecca Rusch sharing wisdom
The Friday fire up meeting was what it always is.  I have to say I'm a little worried about Ken....seemed to not have the oomph I had seen last year, or perhaps I'm just a jaded second timer.  Regardless, I got my Leadville love and began to feel really good, and really nervous for Saturday.  Somehow I managed to get to bed good and early Friday, and woke up at 4:30, having had nearly 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  This really was awesome.  How could anything go wrong on this glorious Colorado morning??


Race Plate

Heart Power from Anya, Anika, and Sirina















Start Lines and Tires

Purple corral.  That's why my 7:15 with 2 flats in Lake Tahoe had earned me.  I wish I was a little further up, perhaps lining up in Red next to the Queen of Pain and the Hammer and all those folks hoping to hop on the Pain Train and have one of the sport's most amazing riders pace them to a sub-9 finish.  But, siting just east of Harrison was where my times had landed me, and from there I would launch the 2014 campaign.  

Mom and Priya took the pics, I chatted with my fellow purple people, and we were all amazed at our luck with the weather.  Absolutely perfect.  Clear skies, no rain forecast, and just under 40 degrees to start.  About 10 minutes before the gun, as the ropes were dropped, and the corrals started to get crowded, I decided to pinch my tires and prove I was ready to go.  

CRAPOLA!

My rear tire was soft.  Not super soft, but softer than I thought it should be.  I looked around quickly.  Did anyone have a floor pump?  No.  Should I whip out a CO2 and get some air in quick?  maybe.  Pull out the Mini pump?  Definitely no. I panicked four about 30 seconds, pinched the tire a few more times and decided just to go for it.  Kevens is super steep and loose, the Powerline descent could use a bike more set up for downhill than XC, and if I really needed to, I could pull over and get some air in quickly.  Certainly a better option than messing around with the bike with now barely 5 minutes to start...

National Anthem.  Splash of CarboRocket.  Shotgun blast and we're off!


Monday, June 16, 2014

Whiskey Off Road Part End

Before I tell you about the end of the Whiskey off road, a moment of even further introspection.  (actually, this blog is pretty much all introspection and some amount of chest thumping, but you knew that already if you've read this far)

I have not posted in over a month.  Never got around to finishing the Whiskey ride report, never posted about the Moab Trip...and have not said anything about training, eating, kids, etc. for about 6 weeks.

Why?  Why?  riding and writing about it on this blog seem to be a lot of fun for me.  Why would I cut out part of it?  Was not work or personal stress, it was total self consciousness.  Silliness.  Time to face it head on and get back to having a little fun.

So here's the facing into it.

There are a bunch of true athletes here in the valley that i have much respect for.  All of them deride the self-indulgent blogs, BragBook postings, and generally schmoes like me talking about our "big" accomplishments.  And....they have a point.  I was cowed into not writing about one of the things I truly love to do, because I was worried about what others may think of my accomplishments, and my writing.  Damn.  I was right back in that place that made me miserable all those years ago and rears it's ugly head every once in a while for all of us.  Self doubt and self consciousness all rolled up into a nice tidy package.  

In the overall grand scheme of life, I know my accomplishments on the race course are nothing.  I overcome no physical, emotional, or major life hurdles.  I'm a regular guy with a loving family and great friends who likes to turn the cranks as often as I can.  Nothing to see here...move along.   On the writing front I have 110 problems.  Style is inconsistent, I never edit anything, and I use way to many ellipses.  

As often happens, I thought back to riding, and racing.  And the Whiskey.  (really, it's all coming full circle).  I posted a bunch of pics on FB about the nasty weather.  

This post ensued:
  •  Why on earth is it snowing somewhere in the end of April? And pray why did you decide to voluntarily ride through it??? Geez things we do for a kick!!
  • Rohit Bery why? that's a question a few folks have been trying to answer for a while. Suman may join you in this pondering.
  • Rohit Bery there's so little where you really get to prove yourself...be a little tougher than you think you might be, by some objective measure say you might be a little tougher than the next guy. I won't be on a podium unless i keep doing this until i'm like 65 or so and there's only 3 of us in the race, so in the meantime, i'm happy to finish out of the bottom quartile, shoot for the top quartile, and on days like this, look at the DNFs and say..."not me"

So there's my answer.  I look at the DNFs and I say "not me"

Which brings us to...

Whiskey Off Road -- the final 25 miles

Up up and more up from Skull Valley to the Sierra Pieretta overlook.  This is the climb that defines the Whiskey.  2 years ago I ended this climb curled up on the side of the road, needing some serious help to get moving again. This year, I pointed the bike uphill, and started cranking.  

A I climbed (and it was definitely "I" at this point...the fast guys were long gone, and about 1/2 way up I saw the last of the people still descending), the temperature started to drop again and there was the occasional snow flurry or rain drop.  The climb is incredible because unlike most bike courses, you can look up and see the peak you are going for. 

It was shrouded in clouds and mist.  Some bizarre juxtaposition of The Hobbit and Raising Arizona.

The climb hurt.  When it started to hurt, it got steeper, so it hurt more.  Then it got steeper again.  and it hurt more.  Then, out of nowhere...the aid station that signals about 2/3 of the way up.  I stopped to refill the camelback and try to eat something.  everything tasted awful and threatened to come back, so I sucked down some water, and started up and up again.  

As the road went into the tall pines, there was a great little memorial to the Granite Mountain Hot Shots. I was alone, it was quiet, the pines muffled the wind...another one of those moments.

About 2 miles before the overlook, the road makes a sharp left hand turn.  this is where we usually find the insane party of the Whiskey 50 beginning.  Not so much today.  It was darn cold again.  There were 5 guys around a fire giving high fives and the occasional push...and they rocked.  

On the final steep road to the overlook i got passed by the women's single speed leader.  I thought to myself "damn, how'd you stay in front of the women's single speed leader this long?"  The race marshal and forest ranger manning the mini aid station at the overlook gave me the once-over, asked if i was OK (not in the head...they must have known i was so NOT Ok in the head if I was still out there) and waved me on.  That's when I noticed the mini bus FULL of riders waiting to be sagged down the mountain.  

Not me.  Not DNF.  Not today

so up the (really) steep short single track climb to start the long (mostly) descent to Whiskey Row.  My watch came back on briefly.  I was up at the peak at about 5:00.  This means I had climbed the Skull Valley to Sierra Pieretta in about 2 hours!  This was awesome. This was uplifting.  this made me go "YEAH!"

45 minutes later, 2 bacon hand ups, 2 insane downhills, one uphill (cramp hill) that I did not cramp on by did have to walk, 3 stream crossings and a ripping down Thumb Butte road and I was crossing the line on Whiskey Row.

I rode the 2nd 25 miles in exactly the time I was looking for.  I finished strong, I did not DNF, and I got myself another pint glass.

Overall, a great day on the bike


Friday, May 9, 2014

Whiskey Off Road 2014 part 2

Yes indeed, that steady rain was turning white, and as I made the right turn after the start line, it was snowing. 

The route has a lot of everything ... paved road, single track, dirt road, woods, desert.  To help with pacing and all I had the race ahead split into 6 parts.
  1. Road climb out from the start. This is a 4.2 mile pavement climb.  It's pretty steep in spots. Key here is to go fast so you are not bottle necked on...
  2. Forest single track. About 7 miles, mostly up. Top out around 6800'
  3. Descent on trail 220 and forest road connector to copper basin road. Wicked downhill followed by a moderate climb before taking a left onto...
  4. 9 mile descent to skull valley. It's great because you know you get to turn around and...
  5. 11 mile HC climb to Sierra Pieretta overlook. Pain. 
  6. Last 14 miles. Mostly descent from Sierra Pieretta, plus "cramp hill", water crossings and the road home.
I entered this race intending to go fast.  My previous 2 attempts were DNF.  Well, one "full" DNF with a busted derailleur hangar, and one "soft" DNF where I took a lot of aid on course from a marshall and a draft off of a 4-wheeler (I might have grabbed on a few times) to make it up the climb from Skull Valley.  That was 30 lbs ago...

I came in wanting to not only finish by perform.  Sub 5-hours, and hopefully sub 4:30.  The plan was to hammer the first climb full out, and pass as many people as I could.  The single track is always slow, with back ups from the technical sections, so there would be time to recover.  Keep pace through the single track climbs and downhill, then turn the gas on again from the bottom of trail 220 to the Copper Basin Road.  Assess the water situation, stop if needed, and drop the hammer for the descent.  

This plan would put me at the 25-mile turn around in 1:45-2:00.  I'd stop for water, then push hard for the 1:45-2:00 climb up to Sierra Pieretta.  From there, it's 14 fast miles to the finish, with only one 265' climb affectionately called "cramp hill" as an obstacle.  This section should take no more than 45 minutes.  Add it all up, and having a good day I'm home in 4:15.

While I figured I was not going to make my times in the weather, I still planned on a pretty good race.  It had been a tough couple weeks at work, and I had not been sleeping as much as I needed, but I still felt like I should do well.

With that in mind, I made the first turn about 100m from the start, and started passing people.  Despite the driving rain/snow the legs were responding, and I was indeed passing lots of people as we wound through a few neighborhood streets before the longish climb up the road before the real mountain biking began.  The road was quite slick, so I went into the corner very slowly, stayed upright and started climbing again.  Still feeling pretty good, I went for a bigger gear, and decided to stand up or really turn on the power for a minute or so at a time.  I flicked the lever adding a few gears looked down at the watch to check the HR, and....nothing.  Watch was dead.  Evidently it's water proof, but not very cold proof.  The temperature was dropping, I could see my breath and lots of steam coming off riders as the ground up the hill.  My watch was done.  No time, no HR, no speed for me.  Oh well, old school it was...

As I climbed, the rain turned to more snow and sleet with occasional hail. So that was cool.  I made it about 3/4 of the way up the climb really going for it, then had to back off.  The cold was taking it's toll, and I was starting to feel all over tired.  Shivering despite the goretex and the effort I was putting out, I sat up a bit as I hit the dirt road just before the start of the single track, knowing I would only pass one or two more folks before passing became impossible.

So part 1 went kind if as planned, but being really wet and shivering drained the energy. 

Part 2 was all about not dying.  Not running of the trail and down a cliff, not missing a turn and clobbering a rock face, not stopping and letting creeping hypothermia take over...and most important, not letting all the people I saw dropping out, huddling under space blankets, turning down road crossings to get home get to me.  

The snow was coming down hard, and ice was built up on the bars, down tube and rear triangle. I thought about taking a picture or two, but couldn't bring myself to drag the camera out...lots of steep ups with water bars to clear that are hard enough on a dry day...simply not possible for me in the ice and snow. 

There was an awesome moment where some folks had set up at some steep switchbacks. One of the people at the bottom would ask your name, then call up to their friends further up the slope. I got personalized cheers "go ro!" as I worked up the hill. 

Part 2 took a while. No idea how long because the watch was dead. 

Part 3 started when I crested the pass (which by the way is where I broke my hangar last year) and put my face right into a 30-40 mph wind with driving snow. 

Fortunately I was going down. 

Unfortunately it was narrow single track, my hands were frozen so it was tough to brake, and the wind kept trying to blow me off the trail.  

The descent wa a bit slow both from the weather and some significant traffic from other riders also trying Not To Die. 

As we descended, the snow turned to rain, and all the ice and snow on me melted...and I was just wet. 

The decent bottomed out where a forest road intersected the trail.  Some volunteers had started a large bonfire there, and lots of people were pulling over to warm up. I felt ok, so slugged down some food and drink, and kept the pedals turning towards Copper Basin Road. 

This is the only part of the race where I began to dispair. I did not have any pop in the legs to push up the moderate climb, my hands hurt, and my watch had come back  on. The watch said 2:10. I was behind my turn around time already, and I was 11 miles from the turn around!  Ugh. I felt like a turtle. I was passing people again, which gave me a little boost, but I started to hope that after the 1/2 mile steep climb to the road, I would find the coconino county sherif telling us the race was shortened...and I could just turn the pedals and be done in 90 more minutes. I was pretty done. As I climbed up to the road, the snow started again, and the wind kicked up. Pretty much the definition of suffering. 

Much to my simultaneous elation and disappointment the course was open, I had plenty of water, and I turned left towards Skull Valley for part 4...

9 miles down. Average 6% grade, sometimes as much as 15%. Talk about a speed fest!  Unless there's a 40mph headwind. And hail. And the wind is picking up the dirt from the road and throwing it in your face. 

Yes, it was hailing dirt. 

As I rolled downhill picking up speed wherever I could, I was literally being blown around the road. About 1/2 way down the leaders appeared on the left side of the road making their way up the climb from the turn around. My spirits were lifted a bit, as 2 years ago I had seen the leaders much earlier in the ride...even though I felt slow, I was still doing ok I figured 

About a mile from the turn around, the sun came out. Now it was bright and sunny...Arizona sun heating up my cold, wet self. 

At the turn around, an awesome volunteer filled my camelbak as my hands were too numb to open the thing. I asked her what time it was. 1030. Damn. 3 hours. I wanted to be here in 1:45-2:00. So the finish time goal was out of the question...but I decided to finish strong. The legs were coming back, and I could feel my hands again. It had to get better...besides being able to feel my hands and legs, what else did I want?  Only 25 miles to go!  

I downed a couple gels and some water, and started up part 5. 

11 mile 6% average 15% In places 3700' Hors Categorie climb. 

Believe it or not, this is where everything got much, much better. 

Friday, May 2, 2014

Whiskey Off Road 2014

Fair warning. I'm feeling like I've lost my Mojo. 3 races gone by and no real report. I love riding, racing, and writing about it. And yet, 3 races and no report. I'm even slipping on the training rides. 

(Actually, I know where my Mojo is. It is in the garage, hanging upside down waiting to be turned into a singlespeed or a gravel grinder once I decide to drop some more cash at the Flat Tire. But that's a totally different post indnt it?). 

So where was I...lost my mojo. I'm getting it back. I'm getting it back by imposing a Whiskey Off Road race report on you that tells you just how awesome it was.

Some background.

 The Whiskey is simply an amazing event. 3 days for those who can swing it of partying, pro goggling and racing.  Bands, bikes, beer, a race course with an HC climb and white knuckle descents. Blazing fast forest single track to desert rocks to rock gardens nasty enough the top pros can't navigate them.  Bacon, whiskey, and donut hand-ups from screaming supporters even for us scmhos... A laid back vibe that somehow manages to generate intense competition all at the same time.  The Whiskey is as close to the perfect bike race as is put on. Full Stoke. Plus, it's in Prescott, AZ in April, so it's always 70 degrees and sunny...

Racing Day
With the Backyardigans as my soundtrack I got my coffee and toast, checked the somewhat unnerving weather reports again, and threw all the clothes I wore for iceman on for the 90 minute drive to Prescott.

As I gained elevation and lattitude, the temperature came down steadily. 79 when I left Scottsdale, 34 by the time I rolled down Montezuma street. And it was raining. Hard.  Like fast wipers hard. It was weather even racers at Iceman don't look forward to...

Being my 3rd year, I had my Whiskey routine down to a science. Wake up at 4:15am, leave by 4:45 or 5:00, get there by 6:15am, park in the structure behind Gurley street. get the race number, set up the bike, pee, get in line by 7:00 for the 7:30 start. Now, the folks at Epic Rides make it pretty explicit you're supposed to pick up your packet on Friday night, but that's a bit of a drive (90 min each way), seems wasteful on the gas, and would mean another missed dinner and bedtime for the kiddos.  The past 2 years it had been no issue whatsoever to get the number on Saturday morning... Not so this year pardner!  

Perhaps the weather, perhaps a rocking party on Friday night, but there was no one handing out race numbers around 630.  Quite a few of us waiting, but no numbers. So, I ran back to the car, got the bike out, peed, and went back to check about my race packet. 

Still raining. 

Luckily, the Epic Rides staffer came by, gave me a good and well deserved scolding for not picking up on Friday, handed me a number and wished me luck. She also made it clear that next year, it's Friday. Got it...but now it's time to race. 

Number now tied on, dressed for November in Michigan up I got myself into a gap in the fence and jumped in line about 1/2 way up the field. I took stock of my fellow insane racers under the sign marked "faster than most of my friends". Must say we looked a sorry lot. I was pretty well
prepped...proper gore jacket (though I could have done with my rain jacket), thermal bibs, gloves. I was just a little cold in the stiff wind and steady rain...which is exactly how I like to feel temperature wise before a long race. After all soon, I would be charging up a cat 2 climb, passing as many as possible to avoid bottlenecks in the singletrack. 

Around me was quite the cast of characters. A few in full Rapha cold and wet race kit -- ready for Paris-Roubaix or Milan-San Romeo by their look -- more than a few in garbage bags, shower caps, nitrile gloves...and a few other in summer race kit and rain cape. seriously?  Had theae people never rudder a bike in weather?  Did they not read a weather report?  Did they think they were tour riders needing to show off their sponsor logos?  I guffawed. I sniffed at their silliness!  Actually, I coughed and sniffled the stuff coming out of my nose. 

There was a bit of a fire-up from the PA before the shotgun blast (a real one!) set us off and racing.

Just as the snow started. 

We'll pick up there next time. 

Friday, April 11, 2014

Food

I was asked to write a post about what I eat. I get asked what I eat a lot. Really, I think the requests are from people who must be a bit delusional to think that I have good advice, perhaps it's all the time they spend in a hypoxic state from too much excercise or screaming at the kids (actually, I have no idea if they scream at their kids but I digress). 

There's a bunch of theory behin all this I picked up from mom (the registered dietician), "feed zone portables" by Allen Lim and my trainer at lifetime. Basically it's all about replacing what the body burns through...and it burns through a lot when you ask it to do something silly like propel a bicycle across the Sonoran desert or over a mountain pass. 

I figure I can make this useful for myself, as this post will know provide a nice checklist for rides and races. So, here goes. 

What I eat during a race or long rides starts a few days in advance. It's not so much what I eat as what I drink. And that's water. A lot of it. Like one of those little 10oz bottles every hour I'm awake. This also means I pee a lot. It is a fact. 

I also take a calcium-magnesium-zinc supplement every day, and try (often not very successfully) to get most of my calories from protein and veggies, and some fruit, limiting carb intake as much as possible without being a lunatic who eats nothing by dried mastodon meat and pine nuts. 

There's a bunch of research as to why the protein emphasis. Mostly it's about having protein to rebuild the muscles I guess, and getting the body excited about the carbs I provide on the rides. Something about being more efficient at turning sugar into glycogen which is what the muscles use to go when your brain says "pedal NOW!"  

Since 95% of my rides are in the wee hours, including the races, I have the following pre-ride nutrition almost always:

- 8oz coffee with a splash of milk (why 8oz?  That's how big the cups at home are)
- tortilla (small) or 1 slice of toast with almond butter and ginger jelly (never tried ginger jelly?  I think you're missing out...to me ginger jelly says "time to ride"!!  or sometimes chocolate almond butter
- 50g Karbolyn (200cal worth) in 24oz water. Karbolyn is a "super carb" made by all American efx. Whatever stuff is in there (all natural!) there's no carb crash...My trainer at lifetime turned me on to it a a pre-workout neccesity, and I'm a believer 

If the ride is under 2 hours, I take water. 1 big bottle per hour. That is all

If over 2 hours...
- 24oz (big bottle) with 1 scoop of carborocket half-evil per hour. 1st half of ride non-caffeinated. 2nd half, caffeine. Carborocket half-evil is 111cal of carbs per scoop (they recommend 3 scoops for 333 cal..half evil...get it?), plus electrolytes, and amino acids
- 1 roctane gel at hour 1
-1 gu/cliff/other 40 min later
- roctane 40 min later 
Continue pattern...

If out for more than 4 hours, I try to have a waffle (Belgian cookie...because, cycling) or another tortilla or similar every 2 hours to give my stomach something to do. 

I'm trying to consume about 300cal and 24oz of water each hour...the assumption is I have the hammer down. If I'm spinning on glass pedals, I'll reduce calorie intake

Post ride, 200cal protein shake with glutamine added.  Also make sure to take my supps and fish oil post-ride. 

I think I'd like to switch to more real food instead of gels but the gels are convenient. The concept of making my own awesomely perfect baked goods for rides is a cool. Practically...it ain't happening. 

I have no idea if this schedule of eating will work for anyone else. You may try it and puke your guts out, or cramp, or you may have the best day ever on a bike.  Roctane and carborocket may make you gag...maybe ginger jelly is the nastiest flavor you can imagine. Who knows??  One of the guys I met eats slices of ham wrapped around a stick of parmesean...another eats Oreos...another subway ham sandwiches....whatever it takes to get the sugar, salt, and aminos to replace what you used up. 

Do remember pro endurance athletes have stomachs that are as finely tuned as their legs and arms. Where I can eat 350cal/hour of excercise before I hit gastric distress, pros can put down 500-600cal...

Anyway it turns out, be sure to think of me chugging along behind you imploring you to HTFU or wait up...I'm likely to do both.