Marathon Nationals

This year's race took place in Roanoke, Virginia at Carvin's Cove.  Having ridden here before, I knew it was going to be a legit mountain biker's course. The beginning of this year I was all in to having a structured training plan.  But that never took off, as I was having too much fun just riding along, trail running with Honcho and Chase, and going to Result Fitness (my local gym) 4-5 days per week.  However, I did much better with structured heat training: hitting the sauna, working outside during the hottest parts of the day, and doing some of my rides in the heat.

Then all the controversy surrounding trans gender men competing against women in USA Cycling amateur events just soured my motivation.  But, since I had already made plans and had many doll hairs tied up in this event, at the last minute, I regained most of my motivation.  Regardless of who showed up in my class, I was going to race my heart out and my legs off.  With the Maah Daah Hey 100 just 3 weeks later, Marathon Nationals would be a good dress rehearsal.

With the race happening on Monday, I arrived on a Friday, and checked out a good portion of the course over the next 3 days.  There was a chance of afternoon showers every day, but they never happened.  The course was dry, loose, and fast! The course was 40 miles with just over 5000 feet of climbing.  Most of it was rocky and rooty tight single track, interspersed with some short sections of gravel and buff flowy trail. The legs felt strong and my Training Peaks numbers were trending very well.

My game plan was to start off with 1 bottle of LMNT and 50 ounces of Skratch High Carb in my hydration pack, iced down.  I also had 200 calories of SIS beta gel in a flask.  My wave start was at 9:10 am. This included my age group, 55-59, as well as the 50-54 women. I had a moment of panic when just 15 minutes before my start, as I pulled my pack out of the cooler, my hydration pack was frozen at the tube/bladder junction.  I finally managed to thaw it out and get it functioning.  

There were originally 6 of us in the 55-59 age group, but 3 did not start.  So that left me, Libbey Sheldon, and Coreen Havron.  The starting temperature was a sweltering 80 degrees.  When the gun went off, we took off on a paved climb.  I wanted to keep Libbey in sight as long as I could so I followed her wheel. At the top of the climb, the group had already broken up, and by the time we hit Tinker Creek Greenway, it was just 4 of us: Beata, Libbey, me, and one other in the 50-54 age group.  

Now Tinker Creek Greenway is NOT what you think.  It is tight single track and was the first significant climb at 400 feet.  I felt great and kept Libbey within sight.  My heart rate started getting higher than what I wanted towards the top, so I backed off slightly.  I definitely did not want to redline this early in the race.  So I reluctantly let Libbey slowly slip out of sight.

On the descent, I started catching people in earlier waves.  Fortunately everyone played nice and let me around when I asked.  Once I hit the marina parking lot, I motored over to the 3 mile section of rolling gravel called Happy Valley Road.  Momentum was your friend here, but you had to be on your drifting game to hit the loose sharp corners just right.

From there were 3 sections of single track.  Rock-N-Roll was smooth and fast!  That descent was so stinking fun!  Next up was Arrowhead, which had me working the bike through rock gardens and rooty sections, picking off more age groupers as I went.  Songbird had a long gradual 500 foot climb followed by another nice descent. I was careful to manage my heart rate through here, keeping it in the upper 150's, which for me is in my upper tempo range.

I rolled through the feed zone at the 13 mile mark.  There were SO many people; it was like running the gauntlet, but through rows of happy people screaming "go, go, go."  I saw Lisa and Chris, but did not take anything here, as it was not necessary.  My hydration pack was still providing me with ice cold Skratch, keeping my engine cool.  Lisa did mention to give Jayden some words of encouragement, as she was just up ahead, and had crashed on the Tinker descent.

The 200 foot, 0.5 mile climb up to 4 Gorges was exposed.  This was the first time I felt the heat of the sun.  It was hotter than dammit!  But I felt fine, thinking of cold plunges and penguins in the Antarctic. Now I was beginning to catch the juniors.  I gave them words of encouragement, as I knew the heat was hammering all of us. I caught up to Jayden on 4 Gorges.  I stayed with her for about 10 minutes, trying to get her motivated again.  I hope I was more help than not.  

Those tight to the right dips and climbs were easier than during the pre ride.  I can turn hard lefts all day, but when it comes to those hard sketchy right-handers, I become bike-dyslexic. Thankfully my race brain definitely works better than my JRA brain and I was able to motor through them better.  But there was a traffic jam at the trickiest one with the rock slab.  So, I just ran it, but then had to wait as 2 racers in front of me had a hard time clipping back in.

The climb up Buck was stupid hard.  There was a fine line between going just hard enough to clean the tricky rooty ups but not so hard that you triggered a full on cramp.  I kept it just below muscle twinge mode. I even managed to catch Beata on this climb, which at first, I could not believe it was her.  Beata is a beast and I have always been in her rear view mirror.  Today, however, she was struggling in the heat, and her cramping threshold was way below mine.  We chatted while we slowly made our way up to the Brushy Mountain fire road.  

Once on top, I motored on, chasing those carrots.  Having started in one of the last waves might have actually worked to my advantage, as passing all those carrots kept me "on the rivet."  And I needed that, not knowing where Libbey was, so I envisioned her being just around the corner ... the entire time.

The Gauntlet was a 2 mile, 1000 foot descent, and by far, the funnest part of the course.  I just let my bike eat it up, and hung on for dear life.  It was very similar to Heartbreak Ridge in Pisgah; chunky, rooty, and with many 1-2 foot drops.  Fortunately, I only had to get around 1 racer, so it made for one clean and fast run.

Lakeside Trail was 3 1/2 miles of discomfort.  It was a lumpy, twisty, grunty, and the legs were barking after that long descent.  But everyone else was suffering more and I had a full on carrot salad to eat here. I got bogged down behind a group on Hemlock Tunnel Trail.  It is difficult to pass here, being so tight and overgrown, that I decided it wasn't worth the matches, of which I only had a few left.  I made it a point to recover, drink, and eat on this 1 mile section.  

The climb up to Upper Comet on Kerncliff was a slog.  There was a 45-49 woman that I knew I needed to get around before the drop in to Comet, but I just could not bridge that gap.  As I started the descent, I caught up to her pretty quick.  She was super cool and slowed down in a turn wide enough for me to pass.  But when I took the inside line, my front wheel washed out and I went down HARD ... on my left hand.  Dayum!  That hurt like a MF'r!  At first I thought I might have broken it, but after popping up and assessing, all the bones were where they were supposed to be.  It took me a minute to get my composure and get my computer reattached to the mount.  But it hurt like hell on the remainder of the descent so that I had to hang my 4th and 5th digits off the bar and only grip with my thumb and 2nd and 3rd digits.

It was a short pedal to the feed zone, where I swapped out hydration packs.  Only 10 miles to go!  Having only half a left hand with which to work with made those remaining miles painfully spicy.  Fortunately the terrain was a little more forgiving, what with the smoother single track trails of Enchanted Forest, Little Bell, and Schoolhouse. On the 3 mile section of Happy Valley Gravel, I was able to go a bit harder and found myself in a small group of juniors.  We played cat and mouse over those 3 miles, which helped to keep me focused on the legs and less on my hand.

Heading back on Tinker was a grunt.  By now, the temperature was 90 degrees, probably with a heat index approaching 100.  My legs were cooked and I was ready to be done.  I granny'd it to the top, flew down the backside, hit the double track like a scalded dog, and then crawled up the final pavement climb to the finish.

I ended up 2nd to Libbey, but only 2 1/2 minutes down.  And I will take that as a victory.  If you know Libbey, she has a closet full of championship jerseys.  She is an amazingly strong woman, at any distance, and under any condition.  And to be honest, she was probably still recovering from Covid that she had 2 weeks ago.  Regardless, I am super proud of my performance and ended up placing high in the overall as well.  

Now I just gotta get this hand back to normal, which I am a little concerned about.  Maah Daah Hey is just around the corner, and I am super motivated to perform well there.  I raced it 10 years ago and would love to have a PR.  I am currently 3 days out from injury and now can manage some push ups and pull ups.

I am super proud of Jayden, who rallied after her crash and ended up sprinting for 5th place, in a stacked field of 17 juniors.

Marathon National Championships Race Report

The spectators' favorite #.  For me, it was a finishing time to shoot for.

The butterflies were thick as I completed my warm up.  I managed to stay away from the start line until they called us single speeders up to the start.  After a few brief pleasantries were said to my competitors, I clipped in and took a few deep breaths.  This was the day I had been preparing since January.  Although there were a few hiccups along the way, the last 2 months had been very promising and my fitness was exactly where I needed it to be.  My competition was unknown, but they looked super fit with impressive quads and glutes! Yeah, don't tell me you don't size up your competition just like I do!

When the gun went off, Desiree took the lead, and I followed her wheel.  LaJuan hopped onto mine. The first lap was a 4 mile loop, of which 2.5 was relatively flat pavement which then funneled us into the last 1.5 miles of the 25 mile course.  It was a nice warm up, as I could only spin so fast.  Sitting behind Desiree, she seemed to be spinnier, as her butt bounced on the saddle.  I was running a 32 x 18, so it looked to me that she might have been one gear easier.  Turning onto the double track climb, Desiree made a move.  I stuck to her wheel like glue.  Towards the top and with no let up in sight, I was hoping this was just a little test and not something she could sustain for 50 miles. We began catching the age group men right away with this burst of speed.  Towards the top, LaJuan popped off and it was just her and I.

Finishing up the start loop, she once again surged ahead on the initial climb up Yellow Trail.  I was able to counter and hold her wheel.  She was definitely setting a hard pace.  I felt pretty comfortable matching it, but knew it was a bit faster than my race pace. With only 5 miles into the race, I began to see carnage:  first a saddle in the middle of the trail ... and then guys off their bikes working on flats. This course was loaded with sharp pointy rocks and it was definitely better to be a ballerina than a bulldozer!

Finishing up the Yellow, I had a short bit of pavement before the Green Trail.  Desiree and I passed a group of old farts, powerful ones I might add, and one of them called out, "I LOVE you Carey!"  It was The James Hoffmeister.  I am so glad he did that as it made me feel so special and gave me just a bit more "umph" to my race.

Beth and Jim, Senior Speed Specialists!

Heading up the long, arduous climb of Green, I felt that Desiree was backing off a bit.  Thank goodness, my heart rate had not left zone 5 for a very long time.  Halfway up, an age group woman passed us, paying us a nice compliment.  At the top, Desiree told me it was my turn to take the lead, and so I did.  I held the pace steady for awhile, but towards the end of Green, decided to pick up the pace for a couple minutes and see what happened.  I slowly pulled away and by the time I crossed the pavement and hit the Orange Trail, she was out of sight. But definitely not out of mind. 

The Orange, Blue, and White Trails went by in a blur.  I was still feeling great at this point and wanted to get as much distance between myself and second ... or at least not have her close the gap down.  The Green trail on the way back is one of the funnest sections of the course.  It is mostly downhill and has several neat rocky features.  As I was beginning the initial descent, my left foot felt funny,  My Xpedo pedal has some float, but not as much as I was feeling.  I shrugged it off initially, just overthinking it I told myself, but over the next few minutes it kept getting worse.  Oh, shit!  As much as I did not want to, I pulled off the trail, sat down, turned my foot over, and saw that my cleat bolts were 1 turn away from falling off my shoe.  Unbelievable!  I had checked all the bolts on my bike the day prior, but forgot to check my shoes.

I don't recommend this for your "A" race

I pulled out my Park IB-3 tool and attempted to tighten the bolts that I could barely see. I have presbyopia and use 2.5 reading glasses. I was having the fight of my life!  What with the dirt caked in the bolts and the #4 allen wrench being less than a mouse dick in length, I could not firmly seat the tool and had no leverage.  Normally I carry my trusty Park IB-2, but was thinking I needed to carry the bigger one because it had a chain breaker.  Finally, after what seemed a life time, but in reality was 90 seconds, I got it tightened.

As I stood up to hop back on the bike, Desiree comes flying by.  Great! Just great!  I took off after her, not like a bat out of hell, but with steadfastness.  No sense blowing up as there were still 29 miles to go. Slowly, over the remainder of the Green Trail, I reeled her back in.  As we hit the pavement connector back to the remaining Yellow, she asked if I had a mechanical.  To which I responded that I came close to having a one-legged race.

Getting the lead back, but not for long.

We pulled in the pits together.  Zeke was there.  I handed him my spent CamelBak, chugged a Red Bull, and then got my fresh CamelBak. My frustration level was rapidly rising as the tubing somehow managed to come undone from the strap to which I had attached it to. As I spent precious seconds re-securing it, I watched Desiree pull out of the pits. I had to tell myself out loud to calm down. By the time I entered the trail to begin Lap 2, she was out of sight.

Having used up my adrenaline during the past 30 minutes of playing catch up, I was hurting on the initial Yellow climb.  I needed that Red Bull to kick in soon!  I got caught behind some traffic on the second switchback climb on Yellow and had to get off and run a few short yards.  When I remounted, I felt IT.  The cleat was loose again!



So ... after finishing the descent down to the pavement connector over to Green, I pulled off, sat down, got my tool out, prayed, and began to work.  This time, all the while answering questions of the volunteer who was seated next to me, I got the damn thing tight!  This time I lost 2 minutes.

As I pedaled to Green, my heart was heavy.  All the training, all the planning, all the eating clean, all the recovery ... all for naught.  Now I was racing to hold on to second.  I had a good ole pity party as I struggled up Green.  Moving on to Orange, I was not only beating myself up mentally, but the trail was dishing out a pretty good ass-whippin', too.  My body was fatigued and I was beginning to feel like a pinball in the rocks.

Something changed, however, when I hit the Blue Trail.  Maybe it was the caffeine kick from the Red Bull or maybe it was just the fierce competitor in me kicking the monkey off my back.  But my attitude changed, and I was not going down without a fight.  I hit the White Trail with wheels a smokin'!  This trail is the flowiest, rippin'-ist one of the bunch and I enjoyed every mile of it.  As I was making my way up a climb, I passed a dude who told me that Desiree had passed him about 5 minutes ago.  That was what I needed to hear.  I yelled back, "The fat lady has not sung yet!"

Yellow Trail with multiple short, but sketchy creek crossings.

Hitting the Orange, I came upon the mud puddle from hell.  This time, instead of going left I hit it full throttle through the middle.  It swallowed my bike and almost sucked me under!  I lost sight of my bottom bracket and feet.  Fortunately I came away unscathed and worked my way up the climb, crossed the road, and entered the Green Trail.  As I was approaching the spot on the first lap where I had to stop, I checked my pedal while coasting through a section.  It was still tight, and I exhaled a breath of relief!

Towards the end of Green, on a climb, I passed a dude.  He said that "she" was just up ahead. I have heard this line before and a bit skeptical.  As I motored on, I drank several big gulps and swallowed a gel ... just in case.  I hit the 0.6 mile pavement connector to the Yellow.  No one in sight. I kept my cadence high, came around the corner on the straight away.  Saw a dude just ahead.  Kept pedaling. Saw someone beyond him way up ahead.  Kept pedaling.  Got closer. Jersey looked familiar.  Got closer.  Were those two pigtails coming out from under the helmet?!?  As I got within 100  yards, I knew it was Desiree!  The game is on!  I have got a race ahead of me!

She hit the single track about 75 yards in front of me.  At this point it was almost 2 miles to the finish. I began to inhale deeply, saturating my lungs with oxygen.  I needed to close the gap by the time we hit the double track climb.  There were two slightly sketchy creek crossings ahead.  Focus and stay steady, I said to myself.  No stupid lines here.

I caught her just as we crested a slight climb that would bring us to the left hander onto the double track.  I passed her, using every fiber of my being to max out the torque.  It felt like I was going to rip my handle bar off.  On to the climb, I fought like a criminal on an opiod high!  I prayed that my quads or hamstrings would not seize up.

I needed to open a gap on this 0.6 mile climb!  Desiree hung on for an uncomfortably long time ... and then she cracked. I unleashed a monster inside of me, breathing like I was at 14,000 feet, and embracing the lactic acid that had filled my legs!  I passed 3 or 4 others on this climb, who thankfully let me on by immediately.

I powered through the final rock garden. and then flew like a peregrine falcon down the powerline descent, praying a sharp rock would not rip my tire to shreds.  At the bottom of the descent, I looked back and did not see her.  I still turned myself inside out on the final stretch to the finish.  I crossed the line at 4:26:32, defending my 2016 National Championship title!

A-freaking-mazing!  It was true!  I won!  I was so spent; I started seeing stars and had to sit down. Desiree crossed the finish line a mere 30 seconds back.  After feeling life flowing back into me, I went over to Desiree and we gave each other a great big hug.  She said, "That is what racing for a national championship is all about."  Words well spoken from a truly amazing woman and competitor.

We ended up being 3rd and 4th overall (excluding the Pro/Open).  I say this not to brag, but for the mere fact that she is 54 and I am 48. Proving that age is but a number and that you are never too old to strive for the top step.  And if you ever line up next to Desiree White, be afraid, be very afraid!

Lady SShredders!

Thank you to my sponsors who helped make my way along this path to victory a little easier:

• The Outdoor Store
• Niner Bikes
• Industry 9
• Christopher Bean Coffee
• Xpedo
• Chamois Butt'r
• Endless Bike Company
• Revive Massage
• HandUp Gloves
• Backcountry Research
• Swiftwick

I must give Lynda of LWCoaching a big shout out, as without her 12 week plans, I would be a little lost puppy in a pack of wolves

2017 Marathon Nationals Recon

The wildfires around me gave me the opportunity to seek better air quality.  So I headed west to Arkansas to do a little home work.  Next May is the USAC Marathon Mountain Bike Nationals. The venue is Iron Mountatin at Lake DeGray.  Don't worry, it is nothing like the Iron Mountain course that Chris Scott takes great pleasure in testing your mettle. I have heard nothing but good about this course.  Two lap format with a short parade lap to sort the racers out prior to hitting the single track. Counter clockwise flow.

SS'r paradise!

According to my GPS, the lap is 23 miles with 1700 feet of climbing. The trail has a rocky base and laid out so well that I don't think rain would be an issue at all.  Nothing too technical, and by that, I mean, I didn't have to session any section.  Few roots, but lots of cat head rocks.  Fortunately, most of the rocks are embedded and so won't be taking your front wheel out from under you.  This trail is fast and furious! There are a few short rock gardens that make it interesting, but everything is rideable. I could just give the trail builder a big ole' squeeze! I would guess that the course is about 85% single track.  A few short pavement sections will make it easy to grab some nutrition and fluid.

The Yellow Trail is my second favorite.  Rocky, but plowable.  Kinda like a much tamer version of The Snake. This trail has a good bit of climbing, the longest of which is a double track, access road climb up to the power lines, but only about 1/2 mile at 3-4% grade. Most climbs are 50-100 meters.

Soooo much floooow!

The Green trail, particularly the lower section, is my favorite.  Rocks, rocks, rocks.  Equivalent to the rockier sections of Raccoon. And these you have to pick your way through and be careful not to strike your pedals.  No problem with quick engaging I-9's.  There is an uphill rock garden that I probably wouldn't notice on gears, but on my single speed I had to dance my way up.

Had to hold my tongue just right to clean this uphill rock garden.

Love me some rocks!

The Orange and the Blue Trails are a rockier version of the Small Intestine trail at Raccoon. The climbing is evenly distributed over the length of the trail, but the flow was so good, it was easy to carry a lot of momentum uphill.  These two trails were smoother than the Yellow and Green.

Orange Trail 

The White Trail is a highway!  A cross between Tanasi's Brush Creek and Tsali's Right Loop.  It meandered along a point, offering up spectacular views of Lake DeGray.

White Trail

One lap of the course and I had it pretty much dialed in.  I did a second and was even faster, knowing what was lurking around the corner and when I needed to get ready to stand and grunt up some of the steeper sections and switchbacks.  Today the course was slippery as the drought has extended its reach to Arkansas.  The corners had a collection of loose dirt and gravel, as well as leaves.  I would say that with rain, this course will be fast like Warrior Creek.  Lots of sharp rocks, so run tires with sidewall protection.

Marathon Nationals Race Report

Third time is the charm!

In the week leading up to the event, I kept checking the registrant list, as I was the lonely single speeder.  Finally, with only hours to spare, Rebecca Bubp chose to join me in the USA Cycling shenanigans.  There would be only two of us, but that did not lessen the challenge.  My race extends beyond the borders of class or age:  all women and dudes with one gear are fair game!

With Augusta not having any rain in awhile, the course was going to be dry and fast!  However, Mother Nature would do her best to challenge me.  The starting temperature this year was just shy of last year's finishing temperature:  81 degrees.  Waiting on my call up at the start line, the air was hot and heavy, like a warm, wet blanket.

At the gun, I went out hard.  The 19-29 and 30-34 groups had started 2 minutes ahead and I was hungry!  I also wanted to open a gap between Rebecca and I early on, knowing that "out of sight, out of mind," would be to my advantage.  The first few miles of the Bartram Trail came and went quickly.  By the time I had hit the double track flats, I began to reel in several of the women that had started in front of me.  I came upon Melissa during one particular flat stretch and welcomed the draft. I also had the opportunity to say some words of encouragement to her, hoping that those ahead of her in her class would battle it out with each other, fall apart, and be swallowed up by her in the latter miles.  I passed a couple more as they spun in their grannies up those steep climbs, while I mustered every bit of my 111 pounds to keep the pedals turned over.

Across the highway through the pastures, creek crossings, and powerline climbs, I felt the sun's blazing heat. I was like that poor little ant being under the magnifying glass of some 5 year old boy, on the verge of combustion. On one particular long grassy double track descent, I suddenly knew what it felt like to run a series of moguls.  It took all my cat-like reflexes to keep the rubber side down, the ruts being camoflaged by 3-4 inches of grass.

After the final grunty climb back up to the road crossing, I was getting light-headed. I made myself slow down for the 16 miles of Bartram back to the start/finish to keep the engine from overheating. Even though I settled into a slightly slower, but sustainable pace, the flow of the Bartram is amazing. I felt like I was in a Star Wars movie, riding a speeder bike.

About 18 miles and 1 1/2 hours into the race, I sucked on my hydration hose leading to my 50 ounce bladder.  Nothing.  I grabbed my CamelBak, jimmied it around, and sucked.  Still nothing! Fortunately I had a 1/2 full bottle of water on the bike.  Although I had not planned on stopping at the first aid station (mile 20), I was thankful to take a short respite.  Being the only one there at the time, I was treated like a Queen.  I did not even have to get off the bike.  While one volunteer refilled my bottle, another poured ice cold water down my back.

During the remaining 10 miles of Bartram, I caught a couple more women, and started passing some of the younger age group men.  I was pleasantly surprised by how respectful all the men were in letting me by.  As I approached the start/finish, my time was just 3 minutes slower than last year's. The first half of the course was exactly the same, so that was promising.  I stopped and swapped CamelBaks while professional pit crewman Zeke poured ice water down my jersey.

The first portion of the next 30 miles was the Keg Creek Trail.  Due to a road bridge being under construction, this portion of the race was different than last year's.  I would be riding most of Keg first and clockwise.  This part and all of its seemingly 1,532 roots would be the death of me!  Even though the trail was shaded the canopy held in the heat which approached a high of 95 degrees.  The balls of my feet and my left big toe hurt and it felt like someone was stabbing me in the lower back. What kept me hammering, though, was knowing that I did not want to be caught by Mary, who I had seen coming down into the start/finish as I was leaving.  Mary had spanked me pretty good in the Big Frog 65 and I did not want a repeat.  So I motored on, ignoring the pain, and constantly scanning the horizon for signs of the bridge work, as that would tell me I was about to  leave Hell.

After Keg was a 2 mile stretch of pavement.  It was a nice break from the teeth rattling I had just experienced.  And uphill so I wasn't spinning my legs off.  Once again, I drained my 50 ounce CamelBak in a little over an hour.  As I hit the 1 mile Purgatory Pasture, I began to feel a little better. All the pains disappeared so that I could focus on the task that lay ahead.  At the third aid station halfway through the field,  Zeke was there with nutrition in hand.  While I drank my Red Bull, he refilled my CamelBak.  I also managed to pack enough ice into my bra and down my bibs to have a cooling effect on me for the next 30 minutes.

As I approached the Mistletoe single track,  I was greeted with some cloud cover.  Instantly the temperature seemed to drop 10 degrees.  I felt great going through this 7 mile section of single track. The creek crossings were all shallow and rideable.  I did miss one turn during a creek crossing where I went wide left and ended up going left on the other side as opposed to right.  I realized my mistake pretty quick and only lost about a minute.

This crossing was almost completely dry this year.

I only had to HAB a couple short, grunty climbs, the one after the ledgy drop into the creek and the other being the cross tie climb back up to the park entrance.  I passed a few more guys, one of whom gave me the biggest compliment of the day as I passed him on a climb while he was walking. The guys were most gracious today!

As I left Mistletoe enroute back to Purgatory Pasture, I looked at the time and realized that I was really close to my time from last year.  I knew I was a little slower, but with the reroute, the second half of the race was about 1-1.5 miles shorter.  So I challenged myself with another mini-goal:  try to beat last year's time.  After stopping at the fourth aid station, drinking a coke, pouring ice down my kit again, I struck off with a vengeance.

I was all spinny coasty on the 2 miles of slightly downhill pavement back to Keg, Whenever I would get my cadence up to 120, I would feel the burn in my quads.  I had to back it down a bit and just relax.  I had witnessed alot of racers cramping today, and I did not want to become a victim.  Entering the last bit of single track, I pushed on, eager to get to the rolling gravel that would take me home. Spirits were high, but legs were heavy.  Having ridden this section the day before, at least I had some sense of the distance.

An unbelievable amount of work went into these rake n ride sections

The rolling gravel road back to WildWood Park and the finish was like a mini Dirty Kanza.  I would hammer the climbs and rest on the descents. Up, down, up, down ... "K to go" signs would pass by and on I plodded. I eventually caught up to a racer who I drafted behind on the descents and could eek out a few more mph.  As we were climbing one particularly steep hill, he happened to look down and see that I was single.  He said a few expletives, albeit complimentary, and then suddenly died.  I was on my own.

Once into Wildwood Park, I seemed to gain a few more watts and rode the last 1K as hard as I could. I was bombing down a double track descent just before the 500 yard to go mark when a deer shot across my path.  I closed my eyes for a brief second hoping that she did not have a friend that was going to plow me over.  Whew!  Close!

It was a little surreal crossing the finish line in 5:27 and snagging a stars n stripes jersey.  Three years of chasing my dream had finally come to a close.  I also managed to place third overall (5th, if you include the Pro division).  I would also like to give a big shout out to Rebecca, who had a hard day, but finished with a smile.  This lady, if you don't know, is one tough cookie.  She raced the Shenandoah 100 last year on a single speed; no small task!

My time was only 6 minutes slower than last year.  Not bad, given the Hades Heat!  I went through 180 ounces of fluid and it took two hours and two bottles of water before I had the urge to pee!

I must give a big shout out to the race promoter and the volunteers. There were quite a few hiccups last year, but all were fixed.  The course had tons of marshals and markings.  I only got off track once and that was my fault.  The aid stations had plenty of neutral support and were well stocked.  The t-shirts were made on site and you could choose your size and color.  And the Mega Slurpee I purchased with my meal ticket was icing on the cake!

Marathon Nationals Race Report

As I choked down my pre race breakfast, the butterflies were swirling heavy.  I cannot remember the last time I was this nervous.  Warming up prior to the start, my stomach was sour and that NEVER happens.  I calmed myself by finding a secluded area to warm up the engine.  I was more worried about myself than my competition.  With only 1 race, 6WC, under my belt and 4 weeks of semi-structured training, I was not sure how my body would respond.  I still had a lot of self-doubt running through me.  Was 6 weeks off the bike enough to reset my system?  How much top end fitness did I lose?  Did I choose the right gear and could I stay on top of it for 60+ miles?

Lining up with four other strong women, the butterflies settled and I was determined to leave it all out on the trail.  We were going off with the 35+ wave which included my team mate Lisa.  The whistle blew and with one pedal stroke I was clipped in and hammering up the gravel road.  Amber and Stefanie pulled ahead and I could see they were pushing a harder gear.  I was determined to stay with them and my legs were ready to pedal a RPM of 130.

Upon hitting the Bartram Trail, I latched on to a group of 8.  Although the pace was XC fast, my legs surprisingly felt good so early in the race.  Slowly throughout the first 15 miles, the group thinned as either a racer would bumble through a ditch crossing or was unable to keep up the pace.  Hitting the double track section where there were several log crossings, I played it safe and ran them.  Stefanie was having issues with these features, casing one, and then almost falling trying to run them.  I knew right then that I would probably have an advantage over her in the upcoming technical sections of Keg and Mistletoe.

Amber, on the other hand, was steady and smooth.  She definitely had an engine ... and pistons that seemed to be twice as long as mine.  I would have to bide my time and wait for an opportunity.  As we crossed the highway and began the 3 mile rake n ride section through pastures, woods, and powelines, the geared ladies and Amber were able to pull away from me, but I never lost sight of them.  I, as well, was able to pull away from Stefanie.

Lisa's "Train of Pain" coming in to the Start/Finish at mile 30

Coming into feed zone 1 at mile 15, I was glad I chose the CamelBak for the first half of the race.  The pace was so fast and intense, I would not have had a chance to let up and drink from a bottle.  Upon entering the 15 mile section of Bartram back to the start/finish, I was able to reel in a group of 3 ladies:  Lisa was leading, followed by Amber, and a 30+ woman.  I was content to sit on the back while Lisa set a blistering but sustainable pace.  Our group slowly devoured male racers as we rolled along the flowy trail.  All the men were very polite and moved off the trail as our little train rolled through.

Approaching the Start/Finish, I began to undo my CamelBak.  I knew that Amber probably would not stop and I needed each and every second.  I threw off my CamelBak, grabbed a bottle from Doug, and headed out for the second half.  Climbing up the gravel road just out of the Start/Finish, I had the first inkling of fatigue.  The first half I had completed in 2:14.  Could I keep up this pace for another 2+ hours?  Probably not.  I was just hoping that Amber was having those very same thoughts.

Amber was able to put a 5 second gap on me on the double track, but I was able to close that down on the section of Bartram that lead to the highway crossing.  After the crossing Amber was once again able to get a gap on me on the 2 mile gravel road leading to the Keg Creek Trail.  Her gear was beginning to annoy me ... or  it mighta been my one easier gear was frustrating me on the flat road sections.

Photo Credit:  Scott Hyatt

As I approached the sharp right hand turn onto the Keg Trail, I saw Amber had overshot and was coming back up the hill.  (It was this unmanned turn that put many a racer out of contention.  Some figured it out soon enough but others ended up riding the last half of Keg backwards). I saw an opportunity and attempted to open a gap on her.  The effort was painful and short lived as she reeled me back in on the highway bridge crossing.  Together we rode the 3.5 miles of Keg before popping out into the neigborhood.  On the double track climb up to the pavement, I knew I was going to be in trouble as my legs began to bark.  Fortunately I was able to close in on a couple men and ride their wheel all the way to Mistletoe.  This woud give me some much needed rest, but it also gave Amber an opportunity to recover as well.

Riding through a field for about 1/2 mile, my teeth rattled in my head.  Looking to my right, I saw a perfectly good SMOOTH PAVED road.  That was torture!  And, I would have to ride this again on my return to Keg.  On the out/back single track to the Rock Dam Trail, I was able to ride the flat rock creek crossing.  The water had receded and there was only one patch of slick algae that I was able to lift my front wheel over.  Melissa was stuck to my rear wheel like a tick on a dog.  On a couple occasions I asked if she wanted around, but she said she was content.  Like a cat "toying" with a mouse before the death strike, I envisioned.  But as long as she was behind me, I had a chance.

As I approached the deep creek crossing, I came upon a male racer, who seemed somewhat dumbfounded as how to approach this steep 10 foot drop down to a 20 foot water crossing in which there appeared to be no bottom.  He asked if I was going to ride it.  "No," I told him, "but I will show you how to get across it quickly."  I slid down the slope, plopped into the water which came up to my waist, held my bike over my head, waded across, and then ran the 40 yards up a 12% grade and quickly hopped back on the bike.

The next couple miles were fairly technical with a ditch crossing followed by a steep up and then eventually hitting the off camber rock garden that was about 40 yards long.  Surprisingly I was able to stay on top of my gear and clean it.  I heard Amber stumble behind me and once again tried to surge ahead.  I made it all the way to the water bar run up before she once again latched onto me.  Together we made quick work of the Cliatt Trail, passing several more men.  We were now on the tail end of the 40+ men.  That was a confidence boost for me, as our group had started 10 minutes behind them.

Once back on the second half of the Rock Dam Trail, I tried to tap into my reserves.  I knew Amber was strong and had the bigger engine.  If I could just stay with her until we hit the second half of the Keg Trail ...   Along a flat section, Amber said she would pull us up to a small group of men about 30 yards ahead.  She passed me and I hung precariously on her wheel.  She then asked how far we had gone.  I said 45 miles.  Done "toying with the mouse," she went in for the kill.  She powered up, got a gap, to which I could not respond, and was gone.

I had about a 30 second pity party, but then endeavored to persevere.  There were still 15 miles left and lots could happen.  By the time I hit the third and final feed zone, Doug said she had about a minute on me.  I swapped bottles and, on the fly, chugged down a Red Bull.  If I ever needed "wings," I needed them now.

The 4 mile flat section back to Keg was miserable.  Spin, spin, spin, coast, coast, coast, spin, spin, spin, coast, coast, coast, etc.  At one point my legs were going so fast, I thought they might shear off at the hip joint.  Once back onto Keg, I was in my element.  Summoning what strength I had left, I dug deep and fought for every inch of that trail.  Around every corner, I looked for Amber.  As the miles slowly ticked away, I then began looking for the gravel road.  That last 5 miles on Keg was a beast.  The roots had grown bigger and more numerous.  And the log crossings!  I swear I heard them heckling me.  I hopped a few, bounced off a few, ran a few, and crawled over a few.

Finally on the gravel, I thought I could smell the barn.  This 2 mile section seemed to go on forever! I was running on empty and I was veering left and right to find every drop of fuel left in the tank.  Crossing the highway for the final time, I pretty much concluded that I was now racing for second.  So then I began looking over my shoulder for third.  Almost home, I was racing around a corner, when I had to slam on the brakes as there were about 20 racers stopped in the middle of the trail.  Just what I DID NOT want to happen.  The pros had started and to allow then the full lane of double track up to the Bartram Trail, they stopped our progress down the double track to the finish.  I saw Amber about 5 racers ahead of me.  (She later told me that I was about 2 minutes behind her, up until this point.)

One lonely USAC official was there trying to take down our stopping time, but that was futile as there were more racers there than she could handle.  There was NO WAY that this would be a fair finish.  After I was stopped for about 4 minutes, she started to let racers go in 30 second increments.  In another 2 minutes I was off for the final kilometer.  At least in this 6 minute of limbo no other ladies had shown up.  My legs let me know immediately they were not happy.  The lactic acid was almost unbearable, but the pain was almost over.

Cruising down through the finish with a silver medal was not how I wanted this race to end.  However, I had no "hindsight" moments.  I had a perfect race, laid it all out on the trail, but just could not match Amber's engine.  I was very pleased with my performance; my legs had some spark and my heart was strong.  And I had the second fastest overall time. This race has given me a big boost of confidence going into the second half of the season.