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| 📷: Rob Meendering |
Driving back home over the course of 2 days gave me time to process what happened on Saturday. I will say that I am in a better place now than at the finish Saturday night. I had great expectations for my 7th Marji. While I had no illusions of grandeur, I did think that I could approach my 2019 finishing time of 14:26. What I ended up with was 16:07 and a broken spirit, vowing that I was done with this one, the 1000 mile buckle be damned!
The day started out spectacularly. Perfect weather with a starting temperature of 50 degrees. No rain the night before and the trails were bone dry. Lisa dropped me off at the start, as she was not racing this year. I had a great leg opener the day before checking out Flow, Gurly, and Doctors. I was racing my Trek Super Caliber 2nd gen, with a 30T chain ring and Bontrager 2.4 XR4's. My nutrition plan was simple: Skratch High Carb in my USWE pack, a bottle of LMNT, and a flask of Torq gel. Plan was 250-300 calories per hour.
After the electric guitar version of the Star Spangled Banner, we were off on the 0.6 mile run. I took it easy, this being my warm up, and just trying to avoid getting my shoes knocked off or twisting an ankle. Five minutes later I was on my bike, racing through the Forestville ski trails. Not wanting to burn any matches here, I bided my time and only made passes when they were quick and efficient. Top O The World was the usual parking lot, so I HAB'd down the left-hand side, passing 12 racers in the process. As I made my way over to Rickles, traffic began to thin out. Riding in my own little bubble, I made quick work of a dry and fast Rickles, my favorite Forestville Trail.
Entering Ramblin Man, I was 1 hour 49 minutes into the race; right where I wanted to be. I got caught behind a racer through the berms and was biding my time to make the pass. However, he got jammed up on a rock at the entrance to Wildcat. In order for me not to slam into him, I had to take a less than ideal line, and ended up turtling on a rock slab. I did lose some skin in the process and felt some warmth run down my leg as I continued through WildCat. Looking down at my leg when the trail eased up a bit, I had a nice river of blood getting soaked up by my sock. Fortunately it was just a flesh wound and I quickly forgot about it.
As I entered Pine Knob, I lost traction on the first little grunty climb, and dismounted. Two steps later and my right shoe loosened up. I went to tighten the Boa and nothing happened because the cable had snapped. No worries, as I unwrapped some duct tape from by air pump and fixed the issue. Once I got going again, I felt the PK flow and ended up with my second fastest time on this trail.
I felt good on the remaining trails over to Lowe's and ended up at my 30 mile resupply point in 3:28, about 10 minutes off my 2019 pace. I took about a 3 minute pit stop to refill my pack, bottle, and swap gel flasks. I had emptied all 3 containers, therefore getting in the necessary calories. I took a 1/2 a PayDay bar to enjoy on the IOHT.
The South Trails were primo! I was enjoying every single bit of them, even the climb on Smiley's. Gone was Eh Line and instead Flow was in its place. Way better and more fun IMO. I was glad I had pre ridden, because it was spicy! Rough Rock Ridge is also one of my favorites in this area, as it flows well. There was a slight difference in the approach around the South Trails TH, taking out the beginning of Gurly, which was always a short but sketchy descent.
I remember way back when I first started racing how Gurly and Doctor's was SO HARD, technically speaking. Now I just ride them without so much of an afterthought. And today was one of those days, as I was feeling good and the legs responded when I asked them to. The Marquette Mountain climb was also not a problem; the dirt had enough moisture that it was hard packed and tacky. And then my absolute favorite trail of the whole course ... Scary! Of course, there was a traffic jam of walkers, so I had to take a less than ideal line. The photographer there yelled out a "hell yeah" as I cleaned that tricky section.
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| 📷: Rob Meendering |
Not sure if this was where the first fake checkpoint was, but at the intersection of Scary and Not So Scary, which was on a fairly steep climb, there be the pumpkin, And, of course, it was empty. It was fun getting back started on that steep ass climb.
The climb up Zueg's sucked no more than usual, but Above Grade was a joy to climb. I don't believe I have ever ridden this trail dry. Today it was just that and although still very technical with its narrowness, big boulders and super exposed roots, I enjoyed getting to ride most of it, save for a couple of spots where the reward was not worth the risk, as in star-fishing off the side and down into the rocky ravine, like one of my students did at Marji camp back in June.
Old Camp Ridge and Rough Rock Ridge is where the roots began to really get bothersome. I began to wonder if Todd and Danny had thrown out a bag of root seeds and then watered them with Miracle Grow. The ORV trails were not too sandy; better than I expected for being so dry. But the headwind on the IOHT cancelled out any gains that I may have made on the ORV section.
I rolled into Jackson Park at 3:35 pm. I was a little disappointed because, as good as I felt through out those first 69 miles, I was 18 minutes off my expected pace. Lisa and Chris were there and helped me to refill my nutrition. I ate a Honey Stinger waffle and another part of a PayDay. I had drained my USWE pack, about 2/3 of my LMNT bottle, and all of my gel flask. I changed into my spare pair of shoes and packed more duct tape, just in case. And then I dropped my pants and applied more Chamois Butt'r ... for all the world to see! On the way out, I stopped at the porta john and emptied my bladder, the one and only time I would do all day.
I saw Roy Kranz on Mill Street. As I yelled out to my favorite duathlete, he responded that he was going to walk the whole run section and still buckle. And indeed he did, finishing in just the nick of time. Halfway up Fenceline was where the first checkpoint was. I grabbed a token and placed it in my zippered jersey pocket. And then from there pushed on. The second real checkpoint (I think -- there were so many fake ones, I could be wrong about this one) was on Bacon Strip, right at the bottom of the wooden ramp descent.
I was still feeling pretty decent going up Last Bluff. I did welcome the flat pavement pedaling after that, even though it went within 50 yards of the finishing line. The music, the announcer calling out finishers, and the smell of pizza made no difference. I saw a deer on the Deer Shit Trail ... go figure. But what purpose does the middle section of that trail even serve?!? All I could envision on that rock rollover, as I HAB'd down it, was an ankle or knee exploding on the moon dust covered rock. I felt bad for the rookies, without much HAB experience, as I could see how scary that must be try to negotiate, especially at night.
Towards the end of this loop, I could feel the fatigue monster begin to bear down upon me. Sissy Pants was more of a struggle than usual, as well as the Hamptons. However, the young kid (with his Dad) towards the upper part of Hamptons inspired me. I fist bumped him as I rode past; I do hope he finished! The end of this loop was slightly different than last year; and I flew by the turn, getting in some bonus climbing on the way back up.
I rolled back to my pit where Lisa and Chris were waiting. That loop took 3 hours 46 minutes; 30 minutes longer than 2019 ... meh. I drank most of my Skratch High Carb, but failed at consuming my LMNT, only 1/3 of the bottle. And I had only taken in 1/2 of my gel flask. I ate another waffle while Lisa was putting my light/battery on my helmet.
It was 7:30 pm and darkness was falling when I rolled out for the last 20 miles. As I began the climb up Dirty Mary, the dark thoughts began to enter my mind. I was already wishing for Cry Baby. My legs and vestibular system began to shut down. I turned my light on towards the top, although it didn't seem to help. It was as if my eyes could not process my world which had suddenly gone two-dimensional.
All the trails seemed to blur together into one million climbs interspersed with descents that my brain could not process and send the right signals to my body in order to safely ride down. I clipped/unclipped so many times that my right ankle hurt like a grade 1 sprain.
My thoughts got darker as time wore on. Normally I can shake them, but the only thing that helped was seeing those who I had coached at Marji camp. Knowing that they too, were suffering, I then punched the monkey on my back, subduing him for a few minutes, so that I could give words of encouragement to my peeps, which then helped me to get back on track and focus.
I don't even remember riding the trail around Lake Sally and by the time I was pushing my bike up the double track rock slab, I was thinking I may have gotten off course and missed that section. I thought 38 Special was Cry Baby and that I was almost finished. It was not until the stupid climbing on Old 56 that I figured out where I was and what I still had to do to get out of these damn woods!
At this point, with about 5 miles to go, I told myself that just get to that finish and you don't have to do this race ever again. And what's so special about that 1000 mile buckle ... not a damn thing! I have never had such negativity enter my brain, even when I was sick with Covid at Breck Epic and pushing my bike up Wheeler Pass, trying not to pass out.
In year's past, when I have finally gotten to Jasper Knob, I could always find enough in my tank to pedal that climb. Not tonight. I pushed most of the way and grabbed my final token. There was a Marji arrow pointing to the left above the pumpkin. With the kind of shit Todd has pulled in the past, I walked over to the far left of the knob and shined my light ... just in case there was some additional fuckery going on.
I rolled through the finish line at 11:36, 16 hours and 7 minutes after my journey began. I really had no emotion; I was shelled and just thankful to have it in my rear view mirror. I was disappointed in my performance, especially the last 20 miles, which took an hour longer than my 2019 time. I told Lisa that I was done with Marji, to which she immediately responded, "give it some time; you will change your mind."
And so I thought that this was my last Marji, beginning the drive home Sunday morning. I didn't think I had the mental fortitude to do 3 more hundreds and 1 more 50, what I need to get that 1000 mile buckle. This year's race, despite great course conditions and weather, was the hardest one ever. How could I possibly do 3 more of these, knowing how exponentially difficult each successive one will potentially be? Yes, I try to think of myself as 55 years young, as I have the heart and mind of a 30 year old, but my body often times thinks otherwise.
After a 10 hour day of driving and another 10 hours of really good sleep, I got back on the road for another 7 hours to the house. During Sunday's drive, angry, frustrated Carey changed back into the #finishwhatyoustart Carey.
Things I learned during my 2 day drive back home:
1. Comparison is the thief of joy, even when you are comparing your former self.
2. I need to get back on a structured plan for Marji ... no more winging it. I just don't do well with self-coaching.
3. Your nutrition plan only works if you stick to it. I failed on the last 20 miles, only consuming 400-500 calories.
4. Don't expect to be a fast night rider if you never practice it. What I have discovered about me as I have aged is that my reaction time between what my eyes see, how my brain processes that, and how the body reacts has slowed down considerably.
5. Accept that you won't be as fast as your 40 year old self, but challenge your 56 year old self to be as fit, fast, and technically proficient as you possibly can.
6. HTFU!
I immediately texted my #dohardthings buddy Lisa and told her that God willing, in 5 years we are gonna tackle the out and back together. That, with a few Marji 50's, will get me that elusive 1000 mile buckle. And there won't be a better way to retire from Marji than finishing that f*cker at 60 years young!
It was inspiring to see all Marji Camp Group 11 peoples out there, finding and crushing their limits. The number of support crew offering up their help was astronomical; it had to be a 3:1 ratio of support peeps to racers.
Thanks to Lisa, Chris, and Jayden for their support, way on into the night time hours. It meant a lot to me.
Thanks to Todd and the whole 906 Adventure Crew. Even though you make life so much fucking harder, with it comes the reward of self esteem, confidence, and a longer health span.
AFI for 2025! And beyond.
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