Dirty Duathlon

 

I couldn't have planned it better than to cap off this year's racing with a sprint against kids and Old Man Winter.  I had signed up in the Expert Open category and all my competitors were teenagers.  Oh boy!  I was fixin' to get schooled!

The course was at Rope Mill and included 5.5 miles of the Mills trails (fast and flowy) for bike leg # 1, 3.3 miles of the Explorer Trails (fast and flowy) for the run leg, and 5.5 miles of the Avalanche trails (old school, rocky, rooty, grunt climbs) for bike leg #2. Although Hurricane Nicole had dumped a bunch of rain the day before, the SORBA volunteers had blown all the leaves off the trails and they drained well.  It was tacky and fast, with only a couple muddy spots.

The body wasn't quite ready for this fast and furious exertion level as I was still recovering both from the Death March Revival and Fall Invitational the week before and nursing a heel injury.  Heck, it probably wouldn't even be ready if I had fully rested and had no issues.  Despite this, I was ready to give'r as much as I could, and no doubt these GCA and NICA cycling kids were gonna push my limits.

The start was not chaotic and we all survived the slick bridge crossing over to the single track.  I was already anaerobic going up the first climb and graciously gave way to those behind.  The youngsters were very respectful as well as skilled in their passing.  Well, all but one who came close to taking my front wheel out as he just had to do a tail whip on the first descent ... kids will be kids.

📷:  Dashing Images

By the time I finished the Mills bike leg (0:25:16), I was just starting to get warmed up.  I was so grateful for the 60 degree weather, as it made it easy to tie my running shoes.  I chased a gel with some water and took off for the run.  I started off cautiously, wondering if my heel pain would flare up.  It was 17 days since the pain started and the pain had resolved 6 days ago, but I still stayed away from any running, fearful of the pain returning prior to the race. Fortunately, the heel was good the whole way. My heart rate soared (hadn't seen THOSE numbers in awhile) as I tried to keep a fairly quick pace.  

📷: Dashing Images

While running and trying to forget just how HARD I was breathing, I went through several mantras (pick yo damn feet up, quick steps, hankle -hinge at the ankle) that I had learned from my physical therapist, Meghan Guler, who also does gait analysis.  She has helped me immensely on this running journey, as I try to go from an imposter to an actual runner.  I ended up having my highest heart rate during the run.  I finished the run in 31:40, quickly transitioned back into my cycling shoes and headed out for the second bike leg on the Avalanche trails.  

These were more old school, narrow cut, with rocks and roots and punchy climbs/descents.  I grannied up the first climb, as my cycling legs were not quite ready.  Soon I found myself in a rhythm, following a fella with good line choice.  I rode behind him for a couple of miles, until I could see that he was struggling a bit on the climbs.  With about a mile to go, I passed him and then put my head down and gunned it to the finish.  This leg took 35:25 and with the transition times, I finished in 1:35.  I managed to eek out a 3rd place finish.

First and second place, Maxine Richards and Helen Rhymer had blazing fast times.  It was so good to see so many young women racing their bikes HARD.  I think the youth outgunned the adults today. 

Mountain Goat Adventures never disappoints.  Super comfy soft race t-shirt, plenty of useful schwag, reasonable pricing, and lots of prizing, in addition to the fun courses, makes me a repeat customer.

Death March Revival ITT

 

Bear Creek Overlook

This, by far, is my favorite route in my neck of the woods.  I have been doing some version of this every year since 2006 when Zeke Lilly drug my ass around a shorter 65 mile loop while training for the Cohutta 100.  I love it for its beauty:  the vistas, the multitudes of roadside creeks and rivers, and the wildlife.  I love it for its brutality:  the relentless climbs, the blistering descents, and only 1% paved.  So when Randy Kerr messaged me last week about doing it, I responded with an emphatic "Hell, yeah!" after seeing that the weather was gonna be as close to perfect as November can get.

I started at 6:45 am, in the dark.  It was cold at Thunder Rock campground, around 44 degrees, but I wanted some daylight insurance on the back end, in case things went awry.  I was figuring on a 10+ hour day, but hoping I could pull out a sub-10.  Randy opted to start at daylight.  He had plenty of daylight to single speed his way around the course, as his previous time was 8:34.

I opted to ride my 2017 Niner Air 9 RDO, with 50mm Maxxis Ramblers mated to Industry 9 UltraLite aluminum wheels, and a SRAM 1x (32 x 10-50). A SpeedSleev saddle bag carried a two tubes and tools, a Oveja Negra top tube bag and a Revelate Designs feed bag carried my nutrition, and a SpeedSleev Diego handle bar bag was there to pack my extra layers as I would be shedding them as the day warmed up.

 My light punched a small hole in the darkness as I climbed up FS 45.  The skies were clear and the stars visible, something these days that comes hard to find.  The first descent was sketchy because of the darkness, the leaf cover, and the blown out road.  I cautiously made my way down, eager to see the sun rise.

The Three Bitches are a series of relatively short, but punchy climbs around mile 5.  They are always wet and chunky.  As maddening as it is to find "the line," at least today, in the dark, they seemed to pass quickly.  Just before the descent to Tumbling Lead, the sun rose over Boyd Gap.

Just doesn't do it justice

It was still semi-dark as I descended down to Tumbling Creek.  Once again, conditions were less than ideal, so I kept it well under the speed limit.  It was also really cold in this spot; another good reason to not throw caution to the wind.

Tumbling Creek

With most of the leaves fallen, the views along this stretch of road were incredible.  No dogs gave chase at the usual spot along the short stretch of paved road, and I made my way into Georgia and began the climb up to Dally and Watson Gap.

This stretch of gravel was more lumpy hard packed dirt, with sections that were soft from the earlier week's rains.  It had a light washboard feel, but at least I wasn't fighting loose gravel.  It rolled nicely along the ridgeline before dropping down to Watson Gap.  This section was loose gravel, but at least not deep.

Watson Gap

I stopped at Watson Gap to shed a layer, take a pee break, and eat one of my rice cakes.  Temps were now perfect and my fingers and toes had thawed out.  Although I was behind schedule, I was feeling good, and if course conditions remained favorable, I knew I could increase the pace.  I climbed some more and then had a blistering descent down to Jack's River campground.  I briefly refilled my bottle at the piped spring and then continued on the climb up to Potato Patch.  I really enjoy climbing up from this side, as there are breaks where you get to roll along a contour line or enjoy a small descent.  And the gravel was "hero."  

Mountaintown Overlook

The descent from Potato Patch was also in great shape.  It took you 5 1/2 miles and 2000 feet down to Mulberry Gap.  It is not an easy descent, as I spent most of it just hovering above the saddle as to avoid any ass-smacking that might come from a sudden dip or exposed rock.  My legs definitely did NOT like that short climb up to Mulberry Gap.

Refilling my bottles at the barn

I stopped in the office briefly to say hi to Kate, and then made my way to the restroom after refilling my bottles.  

If you haven't been here, you are truly missing out on a great experience.

Here I was 41 miles and 5 hours into my day.  And a daunting climb back up to Potato Patch.  Although my stopped time here was short, 12 minutes, my legs thought they were done for the day and shut down.  It was also here that Randy caught me and passed me.  He had started at 7:55 am; he was on fire!

I managed to keep pace with him for all of 100 yards.  And then my legs said, "Hell, no, you are asking for too many watts!"  And suffice it to say that my low moment of the day was the next 50 minutes struggling back up to Potato Patch.  I knew eventually I would feel good again, so I just stayed present and enjoyed the ride, no matter how slow.

Bear Creek Overlook

Even though there were still a couple miles left of climbing after turning at the top of Potato Patch, I was beginning to feel better and turn the pedals over quicker and with more force.  The gravel over to Lake Conasauga was hard packed and smooth. I put a couple hundred calories in the belly knowing I would have a big descent soon, allowing for adequate digestion and usage.

FS 17 (West Cowpen) was in as good a shape as it could be.  The rains had settled the dust and the gravel some, but it was thick in leaf cover, which made it spicey!  Not one of the fastest times down it, but I arrived safely at the bottom.

The flats over to Big Frog went by quickly.  All that food I had ingested at the top of the mountain was now providing the energy I needed.  Just 22 miles left.  Turning right onto Big Frog, I climbed up to the piped spring and refilled one bottle and ate my last rice cake for the final push.

Rice cakes: life savers

Big Frog, over the past 15 years, has gone from smooth and gravel bike enjoyably rideable, to blown out I need a full squish trail bike to get through this on a fun note.  Most of it is riding over chunks of bed rock and feeling your way through deep leaves and praying one of a thousand loose baby heads doesn't take your front wheel out from under you.

So focused on staying upright I forgot how thrashed my legs were.  Up and over the top, I rode the brakes most of the way down the descent.  I would rather lose time going slow as opposed to fixing a puncture or making a sling out of an inner tube.  

Deceivingly enhanced

The top of Big Frog

Back out on FS 221 I felt renewed.  The five miles of rolling hard packed dirt made it feel like I was flying down to Big Creek.  I had already figured that a sub-10 was not going to happen, but there was still a chance for a PR.  That had me fired up on the steep ass climb out of Big Creek.  However, in the ensuing final 4 miles over to FS 45, I do believe those short punchy climbs doubled in number since the last time I rode here.  At least that is how it felt to the mind and legs ... the longest 4 miles EVER! F bombs battered this section, as I could see the minutes closing down to a PR.

Finally I began the three mile descent down to the finish.  With no thought to puncturing or breaking a bone, I let Freedom scream down the mountain.  I bettered 2021's time by 8 minutes.

True gain was closer to 14,000

I rolled in to the campground and lay on the ground for a few minutes, allowing the body to finally relax.  Randy had finished up his day a while ago, and also rode a PR (8:29 on a single speed!).  He was busy attending to his body with some yoga.  I soon did the same while we talked about our day.  Thanks Randy for inviting me out to play.  Yet another brutally wonderful experience in the Cohuttas.

Marji Gesick Duathlon Race Report: Part 2, The Run

 I headed out at 4 pm.  I had my Leki carbon poles, Salomon running vest with a 50 ounce bladder filled with water, some food, and a rain jacket.  The first few miles were relatively flat and the body and legs felt surprisingly great.  After that long stretch of Iron Ore Trail leading to Jackson Park, where my legs would fill with lactate any time I tried to hammer, now they felt fresh.  I thought I might have to start out by just walking, but was able to run.

Dave Jolin came riding up behind me shortly after, which surprised me, as I thought for sure he would have been ahead of me, as he has those old man watts.  I was selfishly glad to see him and we chatted for a few minutes, with him giving me some words of encouragement.  I secretly wished he would have paced me as he has been such a great riding/racing partner over the past few years that we have grown to know each other.  But he motored on.

Around the 4th mile, I came upon the second token station on Panorama.  Once again I grabbed 2 and placed them in different pockets on my vest. While running the Stoned Hinge Trail, I heard someone yell my name.  I turned around to see who it was:  Roy Kranz!  Holy smokes!  I was hoping I would get a chance to run with him and here he was.  I just wish it would have been longer than a half a mile.  But it was a joy to see him; I think I may even have gotten 15 seconds of fame on his video.

I was making good time through the first 10 miles, averaging 15 minutes per mile, and it felt easy. I met my crew at mile 10 around the 2 1/2 mark.  Even though I wasn't hungry and my tummy felt off, I took in some fuel while they refilled my hydration pack with more water. This was about a 3 minute stop.

Still thinking I could buckle at this point.

The next 5 miles I was still feeling good, maintaining my goal pace.  The climb up Last Bluff was enjoyable, as I didn't have a 25 pound bike I had to pedal in granny or push up the steepest parts.  I even passed a few bikers on this section. I stopped briefly at mile 15 and grabbed my lights from my crew.  Chris made mention that when I caught Lisa to give her hell.  Wait, what?  I shouldn't be catching her; now I was concerned.  What was going on?  Chris said that she was nauseous and having difficulty eating anything.  I prayed that things would improve for her.  This stop was also about 3 minutes.

The next two miles were on pavement that took me within 100 yards of the finish line.  I was able to see the beer tent full of happy souls, while I trudged onwards.  This section should have been fast as it was flat and smooth.  But for me, the hard surface began working on the support structures around my knees and the first signs of pain began to surface.

Once I got back on the trail, I was able to pick the pace back up a little.  Up and over Daisy Bluff and then onto Deer Shit Trail.  And let me just say, that little added 1/2 mile extension of Deer Shit should be called Bull Shit!  I doubt anyone uses this nasty little section outside of the race.  I passed no fewer than 5 bikers here; unless you are a trials rider and a goat, most of this section is HAB.  As far as running only Kilian Jornet would take pleasure here.  That ... was ... awful!

I met my crew at mile 19.  While I stretched out my back, hips, and knees, they refilled my water.  My stomach was sour, but I took a fig bar anyways as I knew I needed the calories.  If I threw it back up, then so be it. This stop was a little over 4 minutes.

As I got going again, the stretching helped, and the joints felt loose and limber.  The flattish trail for the next couple miles also helped. Then came Sissy Pants, to which I remember Lisa saying, as we were looking at the file prior to the race, that at least they were taking us up the easy way.  The easy way?!?  What was in your coffee that morning?  This climb felt like my poles were pulling me up while my legs were dragging in the dirt like a paraplegic.  The Hampton's Climb wasn't as long, but still a kick in the hoo-ha.  I saw another token station towards the top.  When I got there, an empty pumpkin head, with a note in the bottom,  "Just kidding, blame Danny."  I began to move on, but then stopped, turned around, and looked in again, just in case in my stupor, I missed something.  Nope, still said, "Just kidding." 😂😂😂

From there it was downhill back to Jackson Park, where I rolled through at 10:43 pm.  My crew was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, tending to my needs.  I took a moment to sit down and finish the rest of my Ramen from earlier.  That tasted so good and it was the first thing that sat well in my stomach in 6 hours.  I hadn't even seen Lisa, huddling in her chair not 3 feet from me.  Talk about tunnel vision.  She was done.  Her body said no more.  She said she could finish it, just that it wasn't worth it, as she would be slower than in 2019 and she got her buckle. I felt a little envious of her, not having to endure any more pain.

That first loop had taken me 6 hours 47 minutes.  I asked Chris to do some math and see how fast I needed to go to get the buckle.  3.06 mph would have me finishing sub-22, if I left by 11pm.  I immediately got up, threw my vest on and got moving.  I was gonna need every minute, so I left at 10:50 pm.  That would give me 6 hours and 40 minutes to finish the remaining 18 miles, which is what I thought I had left.

Adrenaline had me going for miles 25 and 26 and I was on target.  I smiled and laughed as Jenny Acker passed me on a SS; we chatted a little and that helped my fighting spirit as well.  I felt good climbing Dirty Mary and The Luge as these trails were smooth and at a nice steady grade.  As I started descending on Flannel Shirt, the joint pains came back with fervor; I leaned heavily on my poles to try to minimize it.  It felt like someone was stabbing my knees with a knife. I took a 4 minute break when I met my crew at mile 29, stretching and trying to get the joints a little more limber, as they felt very stiff.

I went up Grandview faster than I came down.  Now even the bottoms of my feet had pains shooting through them.  The wheels were falling off the bus.  This is where I had my first thought of quitting.  I could just meet my crew at the next access point and the pain would stop.  This lingered in my brain for for about 3 minutes.  I did not train a solid year, let alone the logistics and $$ of getting here, and taking time off work, to text #quitter.  Finish what you start!  Even if I have to crawl across the finish line.

The second empty checkpoint on AM/FM I didn't even stop at as their was a cyclist ahead of me who discovered it to be a fake one.  Clawing my way up Carroll Jackson, my achilles tendons started getting tight.  I grabbed my third tokens here and stashed them away in my vest and kept motoring on, although now I was more down to just a walk as the pain intensified.

I met my crew at mile 34 (mile 103 of the whole course), and filled my CamelBak for the final push.  I was in such a world of hurt I think I had stopped eating an hour ago, but was still drinking.  Chris encouraged me that I had "just a 10K to go."  It was 2:30 am.  That gave me 3 hours, plenty of time I was trying to tell myself.

I was slowly dying on Sally, Angeline, and 38 Special.  The heart and lungs were willing, but the legs were not.  The pain of going downhill was bringing both physical and emotional tears to my eyes.  I was slowly seeing my minutes/mile increasing and the chances for a buckle once again sliding just out of my grasp.  But the mind was strong and I still wanted to finish.

Hearing Danny and Jill holler out my name and badass made me smile.  All those out on course were amazing, the community, racer's loved ones, and those on bikes.  So ... much ... support!

The double track section I do not remember being so long and up and down and with the many mud puddles. This should have been an easy section since their wasn't much technical footwork, but the legs were shot.  I felt like I was barely moving and the poles had become crutches.  I longed to see Cry Baby.  But first there was Old 56; so damn lumpy!  I said a few choice words here, as in "This wouldn't even be fucking fun to ride!" Once on Cry Baby, the conditions improved some, but my pace continued to slow.  The final section of steep roll downs had me grimacing as I side-stepped down them.  Sorta wished I could have just rolled up into a ball and sent it.

At 5:28 am, with 41 miles into my run (which is when I thought I would be crossing the finish line), I had just popped out onto Bluff Street and was heading towards Jasper Knob.  Chris and Rudy were there cheering me on.  I was nauseous, dizzy, parched, and weak, but ready to get this damn thing done!  I grabbed a bottle of water and Chris walked with me until I hit the trail up to Jasper Knob.  Giving him the empty bottle, I drug my body up for the last token.  Coming down, every footfall sent pain from the bottom of my feet up into my hips.  Finally on flat ground I fast walked it to the finish.  I didn't even try to run across the line, as I felt like I was going to pass out.  Thank God the poles steadied my weak legs.  It had taken me 33 minutes to go the last mile and a half, putting the total run mileage at 42.7.  Total mileage for the entire race was 111.7 miles with 13,000+ feet of gain.

I shook Todd's hand and as much as I wanted to "hate" him, I just couldn't.  He had given me the motivation to once again crush old limits and find new ones.  Yeah, I was disappointed I did not buckle.  But that was easily overshadowed by the fact that I had just run a distance I had never thought I could do, especially after riding my bike for 8 hours prior to that.  

A little backstory was that 11 years ago I was diagnosed with a foot neuropathy and for 4 years I could not walk barefoot because of the pain.  I never thought I would run again. It took a foot surgery and several years of wearing custom insoles before I could even run a 5k.  So yeah, I was ecstatic about finishing, just couldn't show it due to extreme pain and exhaustion.  

Only 15 finished the duathlon

I wanted to especially thank Chris and Rudy for crewing for me.  You guys were instrumental in my victory.  

It was great to ride and run with all you Marji Gesick musketeers throughout the day and night.  Dan Luebke, enjoyed going back and forth with you.  Gary, was it as hard as I told you it was gonna be?  Stephanie, thanks for the banana, the yodeling, and being there, like 50 times (or was I hallucinating) throughout the race.  And to all you racers on bike that passed me so graciously, thank you for not using me for traction. So many trail angels, I probably could have run with less food and water than I had.

To Todd and Danny, I think this course is perfect.  Perhaps leave it this way for 2023 ... no need to add more.  And if you feel you just gotta change it up, I would recommend getting it closer to 108 than 115.

When I crossed the finish line Sunday morning, I told myself the duathlon was a one and done.  But as I write this a few days later and feeling more like a human than a corpse, I cursed myself as I made a reminder in my phone for October 14, 2022.  

Let the 2023 Marji Gesick Duathlon training begin 😆😆😆!

Marji Gesick Duathlon Race Report: Part 1, The Bike

 

As I awaited the 7:30 am start amidst 500+ like-minded fools, I thought about how I got to this very moment.  I had already finished three 100's (more like 105) and one 50 (actually 62). After the 50 last year, I thought I was done. The closest I came to buckling the 100 was in 2016.  I attempted 2 more times, but my finishing times kept getting longer, partly due to the course getting harder (and longer) and me getting older.  I accepted the fact that a buckle was out of reach, but then I heard news of a 1000 mile buckle ... 🤔.  And then a week after the 50, Lisa (who had buckled the duathlon in 2021) planted a seed when she said she thought I could buckle the duathlon.  At first I hysterically laughed and immediately shrugged it off.  I thought a half-marathon was hard, so putting 3 of them together after a 65 mile bike was just insane.  But that damn buckle haunted every waking moment, until I finally said f*ck it!  I am going to give this duathlon a go.  What have I got to lose?  If worse came to worse, I could always switch over to the bike only format.

And so, here I stood, awaiting the start of the bike, only fearing the uncontrollable. The body and mind were ready to go to places so dark, it would make a black hole look bright.  I had 22 hours to finish it to get the buckle and 25 hours before I would be DQ'd. I planned on riding the 65 miles conservatively to decrease the risks of flatting or crashing, as this course eats tires and is very technical, about 95% single track.

I was a little concerned about how wet the course might be, as it had rained the day and night before.  The temperature was a pleasant 63 degrees with cloudy skies.  There was a chance of rain but not until the afternoon.  However, that chance extended on into the night.

Lisa was also doing the duathlon.  Her husband, Chris, and his parents, Rudy and Vickie, were our support crew. Her goal was to finish, buckle, and get it done under 20 hours. On our pre ride yesterday, she had asked me was I still going to finish if I couldn't buckle.  I responded with an immediate yes.

It was a LeMans start, with a 0.6 mile run.  I had my Pearl Izumi X-Alp Summit cycling shoes, which were super comfy.  I had a CamelBak Bike Vest with a 50 ounce bladder filled with Skratch and a Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbag on the bike which housed my gel flask, Honey Stinger waffles, and SaltStick Fast Chews (electrolytes).

Just before the gun went off, the Star Spangled Banner was played on an electric guitar.  This year we were not lead out by a unicorn, but by a blue haired dude on a Harley.  I managed to get close to the front to avoid getting trampled.  When the rockets were launched, the foot race began.  For once, the LeMans did not seem hard.  When I hopped on the bike, the legs were not heavy as in years past, but warmed up and ready to produce some watts.

I started off easy; my goal was to finish around the 8 hour mark.  The first few miles were relatively easy, being cross country ski trail.  I was quite surprised how dry the trail was.  All the rain had really settled the sand and it was fast. The climb up Jedi was comfortable.  Somewhere along here, Dan Weatherwax shouted out to me.  He told me what an inspiration I was to both him and his wife.  Thanks, Dan, for making one of many happy moments for me during the race.  Oftentimes, I don't know whether I inspire or scare away those from these most difficult events.

There was the usual conga line going down Top O' The World, where I passed 10 racers by HAB'ing down the far left; I probably couldn't have ridden any faster and even my ego agreed that the risk was too high to attempt to clean it on the bike.  This running thing made me pretty adept at negotiating tricky terrain. 

After the fun descent, it was on to the "ge-dunk, ge-dunk, ge-dunk" while riding the old railroad bed with ties intact for 3/4 mile. The loamy, lumpy, rooty ride on Harlow Creek and Rickles was quite pleasant and still so dry, it was hard to fathom that it had been dumping rain in the days leading up to the race. I kept my comfortable pace back to the campground and passed my crew about an hour and 50 minutes in.  Not needing any hand ups, I stopped long enough to see how far Lisa was ahead ... about 9 minutes. Good, I could continue at my pace and not put our crew in a bind being too far spaced out.

Wildcat is always fun, flowy, and fast.  Got a little too carefree and about washed out my front wheel in a berm.  Settle, I told myself.  Pine Knob was its usual ugly self, just slicker with the moist rocks. Still too many people close to me to feel comfortable riding the descents in my own little bubble, so I made the wise call and HAB'd (hike a bike) most of them.  The remainder of the trails over to Lowe's Trail (Blue Heron, Collinsville, Silver Lead) were relatively easy, which I had to be careful not to go too too hard, as I wanted to save ALL my matches for the run.  The Lowe's Trail is always an SOB, as it is uphill with steep climbs and techy features.  I got off and ran when I knew it was more efficient to do so.

And then there was The Beach ... grrrr!  I have never been a good surfer or perhaps I just don't have enough mass to keep momentum when the wheels bog down, so I did some running through this area.  Fortunately most of it was rideable, so not too much energy was wasted.  My crew was waiting for me at the 29 mile mark just before the Highway 41 underpass.  I made it here in 3 hours and 33 minutes and made up a couple minutes on Lisa.  While I stretched and ate some food, they refilled my CamelBak.

Hopping on the Iron Ore Trail, I knew to take a breather, as the trails coming up were going to be spicy.  While I was eating my waffle, I chatted briefly with Jason, who was tackling this for the first time.  He, along with another woman slowly pulled away from me.  Soon, I knew the very sharp right hand turn would come.  Normally there are people to direct you onto the trail as it is kinda hidden.  Unfortunately Josh and the woman were too far ahead to hear me yell turn right!  And they kept pedaling on down the rail trail.  I wonder how many other people made that same mistake.  This was one place where it was important to follow your GPS.

I chuckled a bit on the Greywalls Trail that, as it followed along the perimeter of the golf course, had signs, asking you to be quiet.  Smiley was a flow trail that would have been WAY better in the other direction.  Continuing the climb along Rough Rock Ridge, I had my first low point, where I felt some fatigue settling in.  I popped another electrolyte tab, allowing it to melt like a Certs in my mouth.  The simple pleasures ...

Once on Eh Line, I knew I would see my support crew soon.  I made it to South Trails in 4 hours 45 minutes, 15 minutes behind schedule.  I did not need anything, but just seeing everyone yelling for me, gave me a little shot of adrenalin.  And then there was Gurly.  The rocks had just enough moisture to make them greasy.  I decided to run a good portion of it.  I might lose a little time, but better than losing the ability to continue if I were to crash and break the body or bike.

Doctors was fun.  Being drier I felt confident in letting it go on this descent.  Even got some praise from the dudes that followed my lines down to Marquette Mountain Road.  The gravel road climb up to Scary Trail was arduous, but at least the gravel was firmly packed.  The first bit of upper Scary was slippery and I cleaned it about halfway down before my monkey brain kicked in and said, "STAAAP!"  So I did, ran a short section and then finished the remaining portion. Halfway through Scary was the first checkpoint.  I grabbed 2 tokens, putting them each in a different spot on my person.  Just a little added insurance.  Lower Scary was dry and a joy to descend.

Zueg's was the longest climb of the day at 2 miles.  And the point in the ride when I began to feel some soreness (fatigue) in the quads.  I needed to slow down, but at the same time, I needed to stay on pace. Let the mental games begin!  Once I saw Easy Rider, I knew I was close to my crew at Rippling River Campground.  BTW, Easy Rider is a chunky descent, during which I passed a dude on a bike, no helmet and sandals.  It wasn't even dark yet and the hallucinations were already starting.

As I stopped  to grab a bottle and a waffle, I hadn't lost any more time and I had gained a little on Lisa.  That was motivating, as I wasn't too far off her pace, which allowed for a little wiggle room once the run started.

I don't remember much of the next 5 miles of single track (Off Grade, Pipe Dreams, Old Camp Ridge) other than Pipe Dreams was fun and fast, just watch out for the large bolts on the pipe. And the other trails were tight, twisty, and rooty, but at least dry (in years past I remember them being as slick as snot from the rain).

Why I was expecting the ORV trails to be easy, I don't know, but I suppose this was one of my weaker moments.  A lot of ups and downs, but fortunately they were in great shape and the usual sandy hike a bike spots had been graveled and so now everything was rideable.

As I came to the Iron Ore Trail, the Banana Lady was there.  She had been at other spots previous to this, but I was wanting some real food, so stopped and ate what else, a banana.  Her name was Stephanie and she reminded me that we met last year at the finish, as she was supporting her husband on the 50.  I remembered her bawler Jeep Gladiator.  She told me that I inspired her husband to attempt the hundred this year.  Awesome.  Once again, some feel good vibes to get me through to Jackson Park.

Of course there was a head wind.  I managed to jump on a 3 person train, but only got to enjoy it for a few minutes, as it was just to fast for my barking legs.  All I thought as I made my way on this flat but slightly uphill gravel trail, was how bad I wanted to get off the bike and start running.  My other thought was thank God I was doing the Duathlon, because I didn't think I could ride the remaining miles after Jackson Park.  That's how tired my legs felt.

I rolled into Jackson Park at 3:43 pm, 8 hours and 13 minutes on the bike, 15 minutes off pace.  I had 65 miles of riding, but Lisa had a wheel sensor and got 70 miles.  Oof!  By the time I arrived , Lisa had changed into her run clothes and was slamming a can of ravioli.  Scott Morman was also there changing.  

I had a fairly quick transition, changing clothes and eating some ramen (which was the best food choice I made all day ... thanks Scott, just wish I had brought more than 2 helpings).  Transition time was 17 minutes, as I headed out for my run at 4 pm.

... to be continued.

Gravel Worlds

The calm before the storm

Zeke and I headed out to Gravel Worlds.  This trip was over a year in planning.  It had been too long since my best riding buddy and I went to a big event together.  For me, this one was 2022 New State New Race.  We arrived Thursday; after two travel days, my back was jacked from all the sitting.  I spent a good portion of the lead up time doing various forms of therapy for relief:  hot tub, Theragun, and lots of stretching.  Come race day it had quieted down to a level of pain that I could handle for 153 miles.

Highest percentage of women in any race I have done (40%)

This race had 4 distances:  300, 150, 75, 31 miles.  And even a 50k run.  A total of 2500+ racers were registered.  Weather could not have been any better:  65-83 degrees, partly cloudy, 40% humidity.  150 miles was the championship distance.  Winners in their respective age categories would get a World Championship jersey.  The courses were unmarked; GPS required.  I had my Garmin Edge 830 as well as Ride with GPS on my phone.  1 checkpoint that you would ride through twice at miles 60 and 125.  And various oases along the course run by sponsors as well as citizens: I do believe there were 5-6 of these.

I chose to go without a hydration pack, as there were plenty of places to get water.  I carried two 28 ounce bottles and about 2500 calories, along with several packs of SaltStick Fast Chews; these are da bomb, for me it was like sucking of delicious Certs.  I ran a 34T x 10-42 SRAM drive train and 40mm Maxxis Ramblers.  Never once was I under geared and I only engaged the 42T cog twice.

There was less than 4 miles of pavement and 4 dirt road sections of about 1 mile each.  A true gravel race!

80% of the gravel section were like this

Most roads had areas with no gravel.

It was still dark when the race started at 6 am.  Even with 700 racers hitting the gravel, the dust was minimal.  Still, I was extra cautious for these first few miles.  I stayed in the middle of the road and stayed a couple bike lengths back from those in front.  I took it easy and gave time for my legs to warm up.  My goal was to stay in the high aerobic heart rate range, and only going hard to bridge a gap or get up a hill.  Things were going smoothly, the sun was beginning to rise, and then suddenly the two riders ahead of me hit a patch of deep gravel.  I slowed down, but when I hit it, a rut slung my front tire abruptly to the left.  I tried to hold my line, but to no avail.  I collided with a female racer to my left.  Our handlebars interlocked.  Fortunately, we did not go down, but slowed to a stop.  It took a few seconds to free ourselves from each other.  We were both concerned how the other was.  I was ok, but she hurt her wrist in the process.  I felt so bad and immediately apologized.  We both got going again, but I could tell she was in pain.  Shaken up, I rode pretty slow for a few minutes.  Once I knew she was going to be able to manage, I slowly got back up to speed. I later found out that she finished, but it was a long painful day in the saddle for her.  Sorry, Yun, for ruining your day.

I continued to ruminate on that event for awhile.  It finally faded when I hooked up with a group of guys and rode their wheel for the next 20 miles.  They were fine to block the wind for me, and I was most grateful for a good average speed.  At mile 33, there was an oasis and we all stopped.  This oasis was hosted by Bobby Wintle and his Mid South crew.  I stopped just long enough to fill one bottle.  I ended up riding the next 27 miles alone, which was ok, as the winds were light, the breeze cool, and the legs were happy.  The scenery for the first 60 miles was mainly of corn and soybean fields, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

10 foot high and no doubt this wasn't non-GMO

At mile 60 I entered the first official checkpoint (for both the 75 and150).  There was two-way traffic as racers were coming back out to continue on course.  This would also be the second checkpoint for the 150 course, too.  There were bikes and bodies everywhere, no less than 60 racers swarming the aid station and portapotties. I was happy with my time as I was 4 hours and 60 miles in.  I stopped to pee, fill bottles, and grab a gel.  Everyone was heading back out the way the came in (or so I thought, there was very little difference in the number plates of the 75 and 150).  *insert foreshadowing* So I headed back out the way I came in, too.  However, I knew I was to turn right, but the volunteer said to go left.  Right then and there I should have questioned her.  But, like a good little lemming, I turned left.  Both my Garmin and RWGPS said I was going to the correct way.  So I rode for about 7 miles, not listening to what my gut was telling me.  As I continued straight on course, everyone else was turning left.  And that is when I stopped, took my phone out, and looked at RWGPS.  Phuck! Phuck! Phuck!  I realized my error.  I was on course but I had leapt ahead 60 miles. 😒  If I had done my homework better, or had questioned the volunteer, I would have realized that there was a grassy double track back door out of the checkpoint that I should have taken.

Gravel-stache

While I was backtracking, I had a good ole pity party for myself.  And for just an instant, as I saw Zeke (who was doing the 75) make that left hand turn, I thought of just riding with him back to the finish.  However, "tough AF Carey" immediately kicked in, berating "weak Carey" and telling her to get her sh!t together and finish this thing.  So I began backtracking, which was not easy as I had taken several 90 degree turns during these extra miles and with everything looking the same, I stopped several times to get my bearings. Finally, an hour later and with an additional 15 miles, I got back on course.

I was pretty much all by myself for the remaining 90 miles.  At least an hour behind those who rode at my speed, I was now with groups much slower.  So drafting was of no benefit, other than a handful of times when I encountered a headwind and found racers I could fall in behind and recover a minute or two.  Unfortunately, as I got on into the afternoon, the winds picked up to about 10-15mph, which for me, coming from no winds in Tennessee, was a bane.

I managed to keep a positive mind set.  I engaged those I passed, encouraging them on their journey.  I enjoyed the scenery change, which was now a lot of prairie, wooded lands and hay fields.  Even though I was out of contention, I still put forth a solid effort, hard charging the hills and keeping stopped times at the oases to a minimum.

One of 4 dirt roads. Thank God it was a gloriously dry day.

A little over 5 hours later I arrived back at the checkpoint.  Mile 125 of the course but 140 miles for me.  I took another pee break, filled my bottles for the final time, guzzled a gel, and headed out for the final 25 miles.  Even though I was a hurtin' buckaroo, I remembered my good friend John's words that you always have enough in the tank to finish the final 25.  I fought those headwinds to the finish.  Rolling under the banner, I fist bumped Jason, one of the directors.  With nothing in the tank but fumes, I gladly accepted an ice cold wet towel and a Coke.  168 miles, 12,000 feet of gain, and a time of 12:09.

 

Even though my race may not have gone as expected, the ride was fantastic.  I was so pleased at how the body performed.  And my mental game was strong!  Had it not been for Zeke asking me where I finished in my AG, I would have not realized that I got third!  Say what?!?  Just reinforces "never give up."  So of course, I had to do some math.  I lost 1 hour and 5 minutes with that navigational error.  And I was only 52 minutes behind the winner.  So that made me even happier.

I would say if you have never raced mid west gravel, this would be one to do.  A reasonable price, great schwag, big expo, awesome aid stations, and a great post-race atmosphere.  But you better do your homework, know how to use navigation, and trust your intuition.

I thought this was a one and done, but now I am thinking about redemption.

Gravelachia Race Report

 

It had been a long time since I have done a BDR (Big Dumb Ride) and with Gravel Worlds just 4 weeks away, I felt the need to enter that deep dark space in my mind.  You have got to train the mind as well as the body for these huge efforts. Even though Gravelachia is on the opposite end of the spectrum from Gravel Worlds (as far as courses go), I know that Worlds is going to be more of a mental game than a physical one, for me.

T-shirt, backside

This race is put on by Brad and Bess Mathison.  It starts in Norton, a small town in southwestern Virginia, coal country, and works its way around the High Knob Recreation Area in Jefferson National Forest.  There are 5 major climbs:  one cat 1, three cat 2, and one cat 3.  In 88 miles, you will gain 13,500 feet. They also offer a 35 and 65 mile distances as well.  The Mathison's worked hard for our small crowd of 30.  They do it not for $$, but to showcase their home town.  $45 got me a brutally tough but beautiful course, 3 aid stations, a killer t-shirt, and a finisher's pint glass filled with the local brewery's finest.

Perfect weather greeted us for our 8 am start.  I actually had goosebumps with a temperature of 66.  I chose to ride my Niner Air 9 RDO with front suspension, 50mm Maxxis Ramblers, and Eagle Drivetrain with a 32T chainring.  I had done my homework and these climbs are steep AF!  Some had sustained grades of 13%+.  I also knew that the descents could get quite steep and chundery as well.  Even though 30% was paved, I felt that my mountain bike would not even be at a disadvantage because there just wasn't that much flat road.

We rolled out with a police escort until the first climb up High Knob (4 miles, 1800').  This one was paved except for the last mile.  I kept it comfortably hard at a tempo pace.

I was then rewarded with a 9 mile gravel descent with just a few short climbs.  It had some fast smooth sections, but it did get gnarly in a few spots: wash outs and thick gravel.  I was all smiles as my steed rolled through the caution areas (as indicated by squiggly lines of orange paint preceding said gnar, a nice touch on the safety aspect).

The second climb was Maple Gap (4.5 miles, 1700'). It started on Cracker Neck Road 😆😆😆, sending you through a gauntlet of pit bulls, fortunately for me (not so much for them), they were tied up with logging chains.  As I made my way through I could hear them hitting the end of the chain and prayed that they would hold.

With all systems warmed up and online, this climb was perhaps the "easiest" of the day. It turned to gravel near the top and the following descent was the hardest of the day.  If you know of any gravel shortages in the Southeast, it is because it is ALL on this descent.  It appeared that there had been a BOGO sale on dump truck loads of gravel.  It was pretty insane, surfing down deep, large aggregate gravel at grades of 8-12%.  I almost came out unscathed, but towards the end, a large briar nailed my left arm.  The thorns grabbed so hard it almost wrenched my arm off the bar.  I had tried to avoid it, but with the speed I was traveling, I was at the mercy of the gravel.  I spent the next 10 minutes licking the blood as it rolled off my forearm.

The next 10 miles was some rolling pavement that trended downhill.  I was able to spin and recover and refuel on the fly.  Well, all until I had a water bottle mechanical.  The black rubber top broke and pulled completely out of the lid, Skratch spewing everywhere. After a few choice words, I managed to switch bottle tops and fortunately didn't lose too much liquid.  The first aid station was at mile 34, and the fella manning it gave me a lid off of one of his bottles.

Pit stop, brought to you by Chamois Butt'r

The third climb (6.6 miles, 2500') was up the backside of High Knob.  It started out gentle enough, for the first mile, but then went straight up for 4 miles.  I guess switchbacks are not a thing in these parts.

 

Finally, I was beginning to see the sky.  Almost there, but then a false summit.  Climb some more, see the top, but then another false summit.  This went on for what seemed like eternity.  The climb of no less than 6 false summits!

False summit #1

False Summit #2

False Summit #3

Exasperation face!

Finally my Garmin showed "Climb done!"  Good Lord, that was a toughie.  First mental test done.

The following descent I don't remember much of, other than it was fairly smooth, gentle, and rolling. I was able to latch on with 3 guys and plug along until we hit the second aid station at mile 49.  Bess and the kids were manning this one.  I filled up my bottles, ate a banana, and secretly wished I could partake in a freshly cooked chocolate chip pancake.  

This next section of the course was a 12 mile loop bringing me back up to this aid station, which doubled as the third one as well.  I got out of there pretty quickly and ahead of the guys I had been rolling with.  I never saw them again, as the descent quickly turned to double track that had bits of tech, including wash outs and embedded rock.  It reminded me of the Big Frog gravel loop. Six miles of downhill was followed by a brief ride through the valley on freshly graded gravel (think loose and soft).  

Bark Camp Climb

Then the Bark Camp gravel climb began (3.6 miles, 1500 feet).  I saw and felt solid stretches of 20+% grade, where I was grinding in a 32 x 50.  The sun was out and it was definitely heating up.  A constant drip of sweat was running off my nose and I meandered up the road, seeking all the shady spots. As if it wasn't already physically and mentally taxing enough, I started to get "hot foot" in both feet as well.  Each push of the pedal felt like a hot iron being poked into the balls of my feet. But I had no choice to embrace it and deal with it, knowing that once I got back up to the aid station, I would have a brief respite.

Back at the aid station, I filled my bottle one last time and ate another banana.  Although food was aplenty here, most was not gluten free and besides that, I was getting "tired" of eating.  You know that feeling, well into the latter stages of the race, when your stomach says "enough."  Fortunately it was no more than just a lack of appetite: no gut bombs, no nausea.

From here it went gently downwards and then rolled a bit on some of the smoothest gravel I had seen.  This Little Stoney Creek section was absolutely gorgeous.  Clusters of giant ferns were found in abundance in forests you could look into for several hundred yards.  I was popping the last few Cliff Shot Blocks, preparing myself for the final climb.  Although most of it was paved and had step ups, it was still a bug a bear at 9 miles and 2600'.  The hot foot had subsided, only to be replaced by some mild IT band pain at the right hip, probably a result of hours of mashing on the steeps.  But I would take this well over that hot foot any day.

Halfway up, I started to feel a surge of energy.  Not knowing why, but hells yeah!  I'll take it!  And so I began alternating seated with standing, and feeling good. Perhaps smelling the barn?  Or that final 6 mile descent? The miles and feet ticked off quickly and there I was, at the High Knob Forest sign.

Hell, yeah!

All down hill from here!  I love it when race directors are able to reward us in this way.  I hit 46mph here, but just for a short bit, as this descent was the first climb of the day and very tight and twisty.  I rode within my means, as going down would have been a skin sacrifice to the asphalt gods.  The final mile was rolling back into town, to which I was greeted with a headwind, but the only one of the day and short-lived.

I had a finishing time of 8:39.  I had metered the day's efforts well and felt strong until the end.  I went into the dark places in my mind and dealt with those times in a positive way.  I saw hard climbs and beautiful mountainous areas.  My heart was full ... and my legs were dead.

This is what I am talking about.  The Appalachian Mountains, the small town feels, the "enhanced" gravel.  All this is my cup of tea!  I suppose that coming into gravel from a mountain biker's standpoint, I like this type of race.  For me, this is more of mountain bike racing on gravel, as opposed to road racing on dirt.  Which I am about to do and which is going to really really hurt, but also be really really good ... as in finding new limits and capabilities in my mental tool box.

Thanks Brad and Bess, for pouring your heart and soul into this one.  And to John, for talking me into this one ... even though he only wanted to do the 65.  AJ payback is hell, isn't it John ... 🤣🤣🤣

Garland Mountain Half Marathon

 

Two weeks of being 100% pain-free after an 8 week bout of a hip injury and I was ready to test the body.  Back in February, a gym session involving several sets of split squat jumps followed a few days later by a 8 mile out and back trail run up Oswald's Dome (2300 vert straight up and back down) set the stage for a deep hip flexor injury.  I was so thankful it was just that, as I had feared I had torn my hip labrum.

This course was pretty tame: smooth trail that rolled with no intense climbing or descending.  I would call it a "roadie" course. Feeling like a poser (this was only my third trail race in 4 years), I lined up towards the back.  The start felt fast, but it was mostly descending for the first 4 miles.  I settled in to a nice steady pace, keeping some distance between me and the runner ahead.  My mantra for the day was "pick up your damn feet."  Tired of Superman'ing during my trail runs, I wanted to keep focused on the trail ahead, and not embarrass myself.  I did have two dudes roll around in the dirt, one in front and one behind me, during the first few miles, which helped to remind me.

At the first aid station (mile 4), I grabbed a cup of Heed, swallowing half of it and wearing the rest.  I didn't feel like I needed it, but wanted to stay ahead on hydration.  I opted not to wear a pack or belt, as I can normally do this distance with minimal nutrition.  It was also cool and humidity was low.  

The middle third was rolling and the body was happy.  As I began to pass a few runners, I shouted out some words of encouragement.  Runners seem to differ from mountain bikers as they are not as talkative during the event.  I suppose it has a lot to do how much more intense overall running is:  it is hard to form words when the whole body is working.  I also tried to smile, which was easy to do, because I really felt good today.  And just happy that I CAN run.

I stopped briefly at the second aid station (mile 8) to gulp a gel and drink another cup of Heed.  A couple miles later, I began to think that was a mistake as my gut started sloshing.  Fortunately there were no eruptions during the remainder of the race.  

The last third of the race gradually had you climbing back to the top of the mountain.  Even though I still felt great, I suppose I was getting a little tired, as I hit a stob or root and almost ate dirt.  My arms cartwheeled for a few strides and somehow I managed to save it.  With two miles to go, I put the hammer down and went as hard as I could.  I was happy that the final 1/2 mile stretch was uphill.  I am definitely a better climber than descender, and with the fatigue finally settling in, crashing uphill would be less traumatic than on a descent.

I crossed the finish line in 2:07:32, 1st AG and 4th O/A.  I bested what I thought my finishing time was going to be and I felt good the whole race, so I was completely satisfied with my performance.  And my hip was happy, so that was a bonus.  The course kinda felt like it was mostly downhill.  I kept waiting for a climb that would have me hurtin' but it never came.  I guess that says something about my training leading up to this event, so thanks Coach!

There were 5 in my age group.