Marji Gesick 100 Race Report

 

📷: Rob Meendering

Racing is hard, life is harder.  If it wasn't, it wouldn't be worth living.

Taking this straight from Todd Poquette's (MG race director) mouth: 

"Now that I've had some time to decompress. I witnessed a lot of #finisher stories come to a conclusion this year after several (or more) years of defeat. One guy, after getting his #finisher token, broke down and cried at the finish line. Hard shit is hard. I shouldn't have to say that, but I do. We need to do hard shit - there's no way around it. It's not a box you check and move on... it becomes part of the fabric of your life. To the extent that every day when you wake up... you know you're gonna do some hard shit... regardless of whether you feel like it or have time. You make it fucking happen. It's a lifestyle. It's a commitment.

To do the hardest stuff, you have to be willing to be vulnerable. Ya gotta be willing to let the experience crack you and let those doubts, excuses, narratives, and emotions spill out. You have to put yourself in the crucible and grind everything down until the only thing you're left with is the willingness to do whatever it takes... in all aspects of your life.

I talk about the 25-Hour Mindset at Marji Camp. Most people are not willing to go that far - at least not at first. They nod their head and agree, but they don't really mean it. They can't comprehend it. They have no point of reference. They're unprepared, and that inevitable lesson is the first hurdle they have to get over. Tending to the bruised ego. I've seen it a thousand times. Person signs up and thinks they're big shit. Person shows up and quits. That's an eye-opening experience for ya. Some don't come back, unable to overcome the initial defeat. Others take that defeat and pin it to a bulletin board and look at it every day until they finish what they started - whether it takes two years, three, four, seven, or more.

On Friday night and Saturday morning, there were a few people I told, "I don't wanna see you, hear from you, and sure as the hell not get a damn text from you until you finish." Each of them has been on a multi-year Marji journey. Most of them finished for the first time this year. Incredible. After dark Saturday night, around 10:00pm, I asked Sam how many people we still had on course, he told me it was more than 400. All through the night, hundreds of people fought with themselves and the course, hoping to find their limits and the finish line. I find this very promising. I find it promising that we had a lively finish line full of people, energy, and emotion well past 5:00am. I find it promising that this event can bring people together the way it does.

I'll close with this. Sometimes, a person comes into your life with no real intention other than to make you better. Those people can be difficult to be around because they constantly challenge you. They make you deal with your shit. They call you out. They won't let you quit. They tend to be a little combative and abrasive. You want those people in your life. You need them. Don't push them away if you have them. They want the best for you, and when you don't demand it from yourself, they demand it from you."

That's Marji Gesick.

This was my 7th time at Marji.  I initially had signed up for the duathlon again, but after I tore my MCL in April, I was unable to do any run training, so I switched to the bike. The injury opened up an opportunity I had been chewing on for the past couple years: SSingleSSpeed! After talking with the Michigan ladieSS about gearing, I opted for a 30 x 22.

Once again I had the wonderful support of Lisa's husband, Chris, and her father-in-law, Rudi. The night before, we gathered in the living room to go over crewing duties.  My needs were rather simple: bottle hand offs at pre-determined locations and drop my aid boxes at Jackson Park.  Lisa's instructions were a little more ... needy 😉.

At least a 15 minute dissertation

Racing is a whole lot easier than crewing in the Randall household

Mother Nature gave us spectacular weather.  Every year, it always seems to rain the evening/night before.  No rain the day before OR the day of.  Cloudy, with temps ranging from 55-65 degrees during the day, dropping to 50° at night.

There were six of us ladies in the singlespeed class, the most ever.  I have a lot of respect for them and have Jenny Acker to thank for getting me to commit.  Last year, during the running portion of my race, Jenny came upon me, all smiles and encouragement.  Here she was, 16+ hours into the race and still having fun!

📷: Rob Meendering. Mariah, me, Christina, Kristen, Jenny, and Jill

The race starts out with a 0.6 mile run.  My only goal was to not get run over or have someone step on my shoe and pull it off.  Four minutes later and I was on my bike.  My gearing allowed me to slowly warm up over the "easier" miles at Forestville.  I also got to hang with Jill and Hannah a little bit, until our gearing led us off at different speeds.

Top O' the World was a mess of riders/walkers, so I chose to HAB down the rocky descent, passing at least 10 people in the process.  While I have ridden this in year's past, today was just not worth the risk, and actually quicker to run it. 

The techy bits around Harlow Lake were the driest I have ever seen it, making forward progress much easier.  I suppose my only regret in running this gear, was that I got behind a considerable amount of slower racers, that made it a little more difficult to hit the "lines" at a speed I needed to get through with minimal effort.  But having known this was a potential, I did not get frustrated. My goal this year was simply to finish and enjoy every last bit of trail.  My mindset was about experiencing the adventure and not chasing the clock. For that very reason, I had my Garmin on the GPX track only; I did not want to know what time it was or how far I had gone.

It doesn't get much better than this!

Coming back through Forestville, I grabbed a bottle from Chris and then set off, knowing Pine Knob was looming.  But first, to enjoy the flowy trails of Ramblin' Man and Wildcat.  Pine Knob has no flow, and with punchy climbs and treacherous descents, I wisely checked my ego and ran quite a bit.  You can't finish the race if your body or bike is broken.

Blue Heron, Collinsville, Peter's Sandbox, and Silver Lead were where I was wishing for a harder gear.  So I just focused on spinning smoothly at a very high cadence.  Lowe's was so dry and so rideable.  But day-um, the Sandbox was stupidly soft and deep, even hard to walk in.

I swapped both bottles out at the second SAG stop, around mile 30.  From here, I found free trail along the Iron Ore Trail as I was either coasting or spinning my brains out.  It did allow me the chance to take in some solid food. Just before the Harlow Farms connector trail, a young fella ripped by me and got to the single track first.  No worries as he was on gears and so speedy, I wouldn't see him again, so I thought.  But then, I was right on his wheel. Not sure what his game plan was, but to me it appeared to be send it on the rail trails and party pace the single track. His tires were also making an annoying sound, similar to Sponge Bob Square Pants' boots.  Was he running inserts that was causing that noise?  Not being able take the speed nor the noise any longer, I asked to get around.  I thought for sure he would pass me again on the West Grove pavement section, but I never saw him again ... whew!

The remainder of the South Trail system seemed to fly by as I was feeling really good. Rough Rock Ridge had some trail love in the past year; might have to rename it as it was smooth and fast!

I passed through the South Trails pavilion without stopping, although that place seemed to be rocking with aid for everyone!  Next up was Gurly ... ughh!  The lead up to the treacherous descent I just did not have the torque to get up, which put me off my game for attempting the descent.  It also appeared to be a little blown out by all the other racers, so once again I played it safe.  Once over the gnarliest portion, the rest was enjoyable, as well as Doctor's. Marquette Mountain gravel climb I alternated between walking and riding.  Scary is probably my favorite trail in the race.  My lizard brain caused me to dab, but I was able to finish out that first difficult section without issue.

Zuegg's is normally only a downhill trail, but for Marji, we get the pleasure of riding up it.  I like it this way; it is one of the very few climbs that I could settle into on the single speed.  There are several sketchy spots (think rolling down off the mountain if you lose your balance on some of the rock armored sections, but it is mostly rideable up.

At the top of Zuegg's, I came across the first check point.  I stopped to reach in and grab a token, but no tokens were to be found.  Instead there was candy, about a thousand fireballs.  I grabbed two, putting each of them in a different spot, one in my zippered pocket on my bike jersey and the other one in my Mountain Feedbag on my bike.  Insurance!

After bouncing down Easy Rider, I rolled into the parking lot at Marquette Mountain (mile 51), met my crew, and swapped bottles.  The skies were clouding up and looked potentially like rain, but Chris assured me no precipitation was seen in the forecast.

Off Grade has got to be my least favorite trail.  It is hard enough to find a rhythm on a full suspension geared bike, let alone on my single speed.  Off and on, off and on, I worked my way up to Pipe Dreams where I got a nice respite on wide, smooth trail.  But then the jack hammering started on Old Camp Ridge; I started to feel some numbness in my palms, more of a nuisance than anything.

Then came the never ending snowmobile trails.  Fortunately they were in the best shape I have ever seen them, making for a few more free miles.  A checkpoint warning sign came up and then the trail descended steeply, which was super fun, until I blew by the actual checkpoint.  Of course, it would be placed on this sweet descent.  I put my bike down and walked back up to the checkpoint, which was about 10 yards up a bushwhacked trail.  When I finally reached it, the bucket was empty, with a Just Kidding note inside.  I could only laugh at these shenanigans.

Mean, just mean!

The next 9 miles were free ones.  Going into this stretch knowing I was gonna be under geared, I had grabbed at the last SAG stop two egg/rice burritos I had made.  I had plenty of time to eat 600 calories and let it begin to digest before I got to Jackson Park.  I also took a pee break at the rest room located on the Iron Ore Trail.

Spin to Win!

Arriving at Jackson Park, Chris and Rudi were there.  I swapped bottles, grabbed some more nutrition, and with nothing more left to do, headed out into RAMBA land.  With renewed energy from the burritos and the incredibly slow spin to JP, I was ready to hammer again. Riding this loop, I felt like I was in a kickboxing match.  So many twists, turns, punchy climbs, and steep descents, my legs were getting worked over hard.  It felt like I was either at power level 1 (recovery) or level 6 (anaerobic).

I started to come upon runners and 50 mile bikers, so many of which were women.  It was inspiring to see so many ladies out there.  Everyone was so polite, but the cyclists did seem to be happier than the runners.  I shouted out encouragement to everyone, as I knew they were fighting their own demons.

Last Bluff flowed well, Deer Shit not so much, and not even Sissy Pants could make me cry for my Mommy, as I knew the loop's end was near.  The next checkpoint was just after Sissy Pants and it was here that the pumpkin was full of Dum Dum's.  Do I sense irony?  Once again, I grabbed two, for good measure.

Headed up the Hampton's, I noticed a couple fellas, with dum dum sticks in their mouths pedal by me. But that's ok, because they have MIPS helmets 😄😄😄.  Now I know my mother never let me run (or bike) around with a sucker stick in my mouth ... just sayin.'

Coming off the last descent of this loop, I made a mental checklist of what I needed at my SAG stop. When I rolled in (mile 91), I put my light on my helmet,  took another pee break/Chamois Butt'r reapplication, swapped bottles, and grabbed a waffle and a shot block.  It was here that I finally looked at what time it was ... 7:50pm.

Riding off to start the final leg, I was getting a little chilled.  Not that it was cold, but that I was feeling the fatigue monster.  It also felt like someone swapped my cog and made it 2 gears harder. I had to turn my light on when I hit Dirty Mary.  Even though both this trail and the following, the Luge Run constantly climbing, at least they looked flat, and I just kept it one pedal stroke at a time.  As long as I didn't look up and see the string of lights high above me!

Grandview was another trail that tried to demoralize me.  I think the rocks grow at night, as I did not remember this one being so difficult.  AM-FM was where the next checkpoint was; once again I grabbed two Dum Dum's.  

After this, it seemed that the remainder of the course was all climbing.  And the further along I got, the slicker the rocks and roots became.  I stopped twice where people had set up aid stations and grabbed a banana each time.  I had barely touched my drinks and my food.  At this point, my stomach had shut the door and I was ready to be done.

Old 56 just about broke me; such insane grades and my glutes were screaming.  My butt usually does not get sore, but I suppose it had something to do with the many dismounts/remounts as well as more time spent HAB'ing.  I was never so happy to see Cry Baby!

The usual finish off Cry Baby down to Bluff Street had to be re routed due to a sink hole on Bluff in that area.  So instead of a final descent down to pavement, I found myself doing a 180 and climbing right back up that shit I had just descended.  And that final descent down to Hill Street was sketcy AF! Probably a good thing my night vision isn't that good.

Over and up Jasper Knob to grab the final Dum Dum.  And then a final easy spin/coast to the finish.  I arrived just past midnight and the number of people lining the chute and beating on the boards to rally me in was icing on the cake.  What a fantastic journey!  16 hours, 35 minutes. By no means my fastest, but hands down my second favorite Marji (the first being my very first one in 2016).

I pulled out my fire ball and 3 Dum Dum's and presented them to the "token" checker.  I didn't even realize the Dum Dum sticks were different colors. I was handed my wooden tokens. Todd greeted me and handed me a dollar bill as I was the first female single speeder.  

My biggest take aways from racing this on my single speed were that I found 17 "free" miles and it allowed me to focus less on pushing hard all the time and more on enjoying my surroundings.

Thanks Todd and Danny for creating this unique event and allowing me to continue to #dohardthings and #findnewlimits.  Even though I am a #finisher, I still have #unfinishedbusiness.  About 250 miles, to be exact.

Let the training for 2024 commence, once I feel human again.

Flatlick 50 Race Report

 

Sniper

It was good to get back to one of Keith Cottingim's BoonDoggle events in Kentucky.  I love the grassroots feel of these low key events.  It would also be a good tune up for Gravel Worlds, which was just 2 weeks after. The Flatlick 50 is a revised edition of the Kentucky Gravel Championships, which I did back in 2019 and 2020. It kept all the good parts (with a few sections in reverse), left out the Horselick Mud Slog, and added a new section.  It was still a mixed surface, what with some doozy double track interspersed between sweet gravel and smooth pavement.

With less enhancements and 18 miles of pavement,  I chose to ride my Trek CheckPoint with 40mm Bontrager GR1's.  Starting temperature was right at 70 degrees.  It was a 3 mile neutral roll out, which I like because then I don't have to do a warm up.  Once we turned left off of Hwy 421, the race began.  There were still a few rolling miles of pavement left, and I settled quickly and by myself.  There were only 21 racers, 2 being women, so I treated this race as an ITT and wasn't going to worry about my overall position.

Mill Creek was a new section of gravel which I absolutely loved.  What with little gravel and a hard base, it was fast.  This dumped me out onto Hwy 290, where the first climb of the day was, a little over a mile.  Legs were feeling darn good!  Making short work of this climb, I continued to fly along the next section of gravel, Indian Ridge Road.  I caught back up to Spaz (John Switow) here and sat on his wheel.  Gotta practice drafting for Gravel Worlds!

After 4 miles of buttery goodness, the spiciness began as we hit the double track descent down to Hwy 89.  John let me go ahead and I just let Sniper do all the work.  It wasn't as chewed up as I remember, but there were still a few off-camber slick spots where I did some "white knuckling." I managed to pass a couple racers (one being Jordan's Dad) here.

But once I hit the pavement, they soon caught back up.  Perfect!  I tucked in behind them for some free speed. This 6 miles was flat, so it was good to hide from the wind.  The next gravel section was S Tree Lookout Tower Road.  In KGC, I came down this.  Now I was going up, the first mile of which was pretty steep.  The next 3 miles was a more favorable grade.  The legs were still spry, so I alternated between seated and standing. 

At the top was the first manned aid station (mile 21).  I stopped and let the volunteers refill one bottle while I inhaled a gel.  I commended them on a less than 10 second pit stop and hit the next section with renewed vigor.  Man, I was feeling, dare I say, sparkly?

The next section was a 10 mile loop, most of which was fast gravel.  I managed to catch back up to a racer who dropped me on the steep climb prior to the aid station.  Here we traded pulls along the rolling S Tree Road. 

As we turned onto the Carpenter Ridge descent, several side by sides were behind us.  We stopped to let them go by on this double track steep muddy descent (I had climbed this during KGC).  That was a mistake, as they were slower than us ... WTH?  Frustration was quickly replaced by gratitude, as when something happens that I get mad about, I tell myself that this is probably a blessing in disguise.  As in this case, it probably saved me from crashing, breaking my body, and missing the remainder of the season.

Once it flattened out, the side by sides were gone.  The other fella fell back once we began climbing up Sheltowee Trace.  At the top I stopped at the same aid station (this time, mile 33) and filled one bottle for the final push.  Lear Road was a 2.5 mile double track section that started off semi-smooth, but then became a bit gnarly towards the bottom.  Several mud holes of unknown depth I walked around, not wishing to potentially sink up to my hubs. This dumped me back out onto Hwy 89 for a short bit back to the Indian Ridge double track.  

As I began the climb, I heard thunder close by. Uh oh!  I had noticed the clouds were rolling in and the temps dropping, but now what I did not want was for it to rain on this section as well as the final miles of gravel.  So I asked the legs for a little more and they obliged.  I did end up HAB'ing a short 10 yard section, as it was not worth the risk of my wheels sliding out over the off camber mud and roots.  

Finally I hit the smooth gravel of Indian Ridge and was able to put the hammer down.  The thunder was getting louder and more frequent.  I flew down the Hwy 290 descent (which I had climbed earlier that day) and then rode back up Mill Creek.  

As I turned off Mill Creek back onto pavement for the final 8 miles, it began to rain.  Lightly at first which felt good.  With about 3 miles to go the heavens opened up, the wind began whipping, and lightning was dancing all around me.  Shite!  I no longer felt tired as the surge of adrenaline fueled my legs for the final minutes.  Those pavement kickers could not even slow me down.  

I crossed the finish line in 3:58, first woman, and accomplishing my goal of a sub-4 hour time.  It rained for another 30 minutes or so, which helped to clean the grime off my bike.  That was nice, as I had to load it back into John's van and did not want to trash his vehicle.  There were showers at the Flatlick campground, which felt oh so good.  And then I was treated to 2 hearty hamburgers, prepared by Keith's family.

Such a fun course.  A healthy and interspersed mix of varying terrain and surfaces.  I never got "bored" by it.  A few hearty climbs to punish the legs and some spicey double track to keep my skills honed.  Just wish I knew how to get more peeps to attend this event.  Cost to play is relatively cheap, the course was well marked, the aid stations stocked well, and the volunteers were on their game to get you in/out quickly.  I cannot say enough about how well this event was run.