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.

Snake Creek Gap TT Race Report

This year I opted to go back to the original, the meat of it all, the 34 miler.  After 3 years of racing the 50 mile edition, I was good.  The 34 has always been my favorite distance, but I did the 50 because that is where the $$$ were.  I also opted to ride single speed because of the simplicity and brutality of 1 gear.  2019 is the year of #doinghardthings in preparation for the Marji Gesick.  I also wouldn't have to worry about being in the wrong gear ... because you pretty much always are!

I definitely chose the right bike because The Snake lived up to its beastliness in that it was a mudfest!  Only 6 days into the new year and we are already an inch above average in precipitation!  The creeks and rivers were ragin'!  The starting temp hovered around 40 degrees.  My toes and fingers were toasty with the chemical warmers shoved in the gloves and shoes.  That didn't last long though as this was what the Armuchee Creek crossing looked like.

About 3 feet at its deepest where it is normally only about a foot.

At only a mile in, I hit this bridge and immediately everything below my knees were drenched.  Bye bye chemical heat!  Over the next 3 miles of climbing up to the first single track, my toes turned to frozen blocks of ice.

The first bit of single track is the closest I guess I'll be to experiencing a cross race.  Ribbons of thick mud made the climbs a lesson in body positioning and steady torque while the descents taught me to be light on the brakes and bars and steer with my hips.  The blinding ball of fire in the sky also made things interesting as well. I was grateful for the warmth it began to provide, but not too appreciative when I couldn't see the trail and just had to trust that my cat like reflexes would keep me upright.

Amazingly Pine Needle Hill and the descent and trail that followed all the way out to Pocket Road was in fairly decent shape.  I was able to recover a bit here and ready myself for the remaining single track to the Snake Creek Gap SAG.  Although it was only 5.5 miles to the SAG, I am sure I spun my wheels enough to get in at least another mile based upon wheel revolutions!  The mud was insane! And of course, all uphill!  I wisely chose to hop over the 29'r wheel deep creek ditch prior to the mud wall.  I probably was influenced by the racer up head that took a nice endo attempting to clear it.

As I began the first of several HAB (hike-a-bike) sections either through deep mud or the loose, steep pitches where I could not stay on top of my gear, I used this opportunity to drink and stay on top of my nutrition.  It is much easier to forget this valuable part of the plan when one is not all hot and sweaty.  Not only was I burning an insane amount of calories from the difficulty of the course, but I was having to keep the fire stoked to stay warm.  Remounting was a challenge as trying to clip back in to the pedals when you can't feel your feet is darn near impossible.  More than once a most sensitive part of my anatomy got sucker punched by the top tube.

I rolled into the Snake Creek Gap SAG at the 1:54 mark, quite a bit slower than years' past, but given the nature of the beast, I considered it a small victory.  Mike helped me get in and out in less than a minute.  While I swapped bottles and gel flasks, Mike cleaned the mud off my glasses.

Thank goodness the Mill Creek Mountain climb out of the parking lot was leaf and mud free.  This is hard enough in pristine conditions.  At 1.5 miles in length, I was gassed when I hit the top.  I managed to sit and pedal a wee bit as I waited for my heart to settle back down to a life-sustaining rate.  This ridge line was in great shape and my shot of Espresso gel finally kicked in.  As I began descending down to the multiple creek crossings, the trail became muddier and soon just turned into a small creek itself.  Not being able to see the bottom of these crossings, I was happy not to have "boofed" any.

The fire road climb up to the last single track section was an energy-sapping slog.  I still felt like I was making good time; I was thankful for the caffeine's ability to lower my perceived exertion.  I passed several guys who had just come completely apart.  At least I felt that I had a bit left to negotiate the rock gardens that lay ahead.

It was nice to finally have dry trail.  The traction was good and the first half seemed to pass by relatively quickly.  But after the wall, the death march began.  At least I had Single Speeder Sponge Bob to push me.  I call him this because he had a shoe that squeaked when he HAB'd.  We went back and forth over the remaining 4 miles.  He would get me on the descents and I would catch back up on the climbs. 

On the last pitchy climb, as I was walking my bike, a large stick somehow managed to wedge itself in my wheel, flip up, knock me in the right shin, and take me down.  Yep ... I crashed while walking.  That told me right there just how spent I was. 

Despite going down, I somehow managed to catch back up to Sponge Bob and make a slo-mo pass and slowly pull away from him.  I was hoping to ride his coat-tails down the pavement.  But alas, I was once again on my own, in a semi-Froome like tuck, trying to gain every bit of speed I could muster. 

Absolutely spent!

I came across the finish with a time of 4:16.  Quite a bit off my best time and 16 minutes slower than I anticipated, but still proud to have emptied the tank.  And having sunshine and 57 degrees of heat at the finish made all the suffering and discomfort worthwhile.  And seeing all my awesomely sweet team mates! Despite the rough conditions, Rescue Racing made a respectable representation with several that will be defending their podium spot come February.

Scott, the SS Slayer, Harper

Scott and David came down from Ohio to ruin their drive trains ... err, have fun in the mud.

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

Dirty 30 XXC Race Report

The Cysco machine was ready, but was I?

Having felt some fitness gains during the Skyway Epic, I decided I needed to get back on my single speed and test my legs.  With Marathon Nationals only 3 weeks away, I needed at least one race on my Cysco SS before the Big One.

There were five of us fine ladies that rolled up to the start of the Mountain Goat Adventures cross country plus race at Blankets in Canton, Georgia.  This course has great flow and is a single speeder's paradise. Being a noon time start, it was going to be hot.  I chose to wear my CamelBak as there are not too many good spots to drink from a bottle while mashing one gear.

The start was as fast as I could spin a 32 x 20 around the parking lot. I, along with Naomi, hopped in behind the expert men.  Naomi took the lead and I followed along spinning the cranks as fast as I could on Mosquito Flats.  I was happy when the climb up VMT started, as I thought I was going to "throw a rod" carrying a cadence of 120+.  Soon I closed the gap down on Naomi and then fought to hang onto her wheel. My legs had not completely opened up yet.  I was hoping she wasn't going to kick it into next gear, as I would not be able to follow.

VMT was over before I knew it and we were on the flat section heading towards Dwelling.  My legs were coming around.  I could now enjoy the furious pace being put down by Naomi.  So smooth and consistent, it was fun following her!  We began working our way around a few racers, but were also having to let by a few from the wave that started behind us.  Everyone played nice.

Beginning the climb up to the South Loop, a tree grabbed Naomi's bar and threw her down promptly. I stopped and made sure she was o.k. She laughed it off, hopped back on her bike, and we were off once again, frolicking through the woods as two little kids would with a care free attitude.  I think this trail is the most technical. It has a few rock gardens that you have to pick your way through. But where I had an "Oh, sh!t!" moment was on the baby head littered chicane style descent.  Those rocks wanted my front wheel. It was a wrestling match all ... the ... way ... down!

On the second twitchy descent, Naomi went down, a victim of those little bastards.  She was fine, but this time, I came around her.  I picked up the pace slightly, expecting to hear her come bearing down on me anytime.  That never happened and when I hit Mosquito Flats, I ramped up the cadence, trying to put some time between her and I ... or, at the very least, not let her make up any on me during this flat as a pancake section of trail.

On the second lap, I focused on being smooth, resting on the descents, maintaining momentum, and giving it all I had on the climbs.  On a couple of the super steep sections where there was a technical aspect, I just did not have the torque to get up it.  So I had to channel my inner cyclocross racer.  I was beginning to feel the heat as well, but knowing Naomi was lurking somewhere behind me, I had to stay on the gas.  After she blew by me on the Noontootla climb during Southern Cross (like I was standing still), I knew I would not be safe until I crossed the finish line.

The South Loop seemed to have grown in length on this second lap. But once I was on the final climb, I was smelling the barn.  Soon enough I popped out onto the last half mile of flat and spun like a cartoon character all the way to the finish.

Shorts failure! 😒

Crossing the line in 2:40:02.  My lap times were pretty consistent, too. 1:19:46 and 1:20:16, repectively.  Happy with that, as I had felt much slower on the second lap.  Looking back at last year's time, I was only 40 seconds slower today.  So I do believe that I am climbing out of whatever funk I had going on earlier this year.  Which is a good thing, since my "A" race is just around the corner!

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!

Fort Yargo 6 Hour Race Report

No pressure, after all it's just a number.

This race, put on by Dirty Spokes, would be my last event before "the biggie."  Being a lover of backcountry epic one big loop formats, I was having to really conjure up my inner ADHD hamster for this one.  But knowing what was looming on the horizon, this race was a perfect test of what I have been training for.

I had ridden the course the day before, running a 32 x 19, the same gear I had raced on when I did this race in 2012.  All the endless burpees, box jumps, shuttle runs, etc at Results Fitness had paid huge dividends, as the gear was way too easy! So I slapped an 18 on for the race.

While at the starting line awaiting the gun, I was happy that the short mostly upward pavement lead in to the trail was gonna be short and sweet.  I shouldn't get caught behind too much traffic. But then, at the last moment, Tim changed his mind as the original plan would have been too risky, what with a chicane style entrance to the single track. So he extended the pavement section another 0.3 miles for a total of 0.6 miles of asphalt to a straight single track holeshot.  I wasn't happy, but I understood. Challenge accepted!

Eying my competition at the start, I saw Amy and Rachel.  There were a few unfamiliar faces, and since the 3 hour racers were starting with us, I did not know who all was in my class.  No butterflies today, I am saving and growing my collection for the next race!  I spun my brains out on the pavement, trying to limit the number of racers I would have to maneuver around once I hit the trail. Once on the trail, I got to practice my track stand for the first mile, as the party train came to almost a complete standstill.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the course open up pretty quickly and by mile 2 I was moving along at a pretty decent pace.

I was able to pick up the pace once I maneuvered around two pile ups. The course was dry and loose in places, and lines had to be carefully chosen.  Finally, after an early season of wondering if my climbing legs would ever show up to play, today was their day to shine.  Now, this course only had about 900 feet of elevation gain per 10.3 mile loop, but the legs felt great whenever the trail shot up. My fave was the Monster Mile bypass climb, the longest on the course with a couple false flats.  It was here that I was in my element and able to pass quite a few racers.

All total, there were about 4 other short kickers.  These lap format races can get quite mind numbing, so in order to keep it "fun," I made a game out of it.  I would settle on the flats and descents and work on technique and using less brake.  I would "rage" the climbs, going as hard as I could, welcoming the burn.

By the third lap, I had Amy and another woman in my sights.  I slowly began working my way up to them, when at a cross roads in the trail, I saw two emergency vehicles with lights flashing.  Not a good sight.  Within minutes, my forward momentum came to a standstill, as the first responders were working on a downed racer.  We were slowly allowed to pass around the emergency vehicle which had the racer strapped to a back board.  I think I heard the injured rider speak, but could not tell how badly she was hurt.  I silently said a prayer as I passed by.

I finally reeled in Amy and the other woman halfway through the 3rd lap.  I followed them for the remainder of the lap, resting a bit, and figuring out how I wanted to play this out on the remaining 3 laps. Once I approached the Start/Finish area and figured out that the other woman was not in my class, I decided that I would catch back up to Amy and if my legs were willing, I would do what I could to try to open up a gap on the Monster Mile bypass climb.

I made my move when the trail opened up.  I dug deep into my reserves and pushed hard for the remainder of this 4th lap.  Not knowing how big a gap I had opened up, I looked longingly at my Red Bull in the cooler when I swapped bottles, but made the decision to use those precious seconds to devour more trail.

The last two laps went by quickly.  I felt much better the 2nd half of the race and just eeked in a negative split!  I enjoyed talking with Mike Johnson on lap 5, discussing old fart racing and ti bikes.

I rolled through the finish with 6 laps, 62 miles, in 5:19:21.  First place earned me a sweet pair of Scott bike shoes, but alas, a size 44, too big for me.  But a perfect fit for Zeke!  Over the years, I have been on the receiving end of his schwag bag goodies and prize winnings.  It was finally time for me to give back.

6 Hours of Warrior Creek Race Report

A bermalicious experience!

Last year when Melissa Cooper asked me to team up with her for this event, I was on the fence.  Just days before, I had received a heartbreaking email that this edition of Warrior Creek was going to be the last.  I really wanted to race the finale in the solo SS division.  I couldn't give Melissa an answer just yet.  And then, just before registration was to open, I received another email, stating that 6WC would live on under new management.  Hallelujah!  I told Melissa I was in.

After realizing that Melissa had raced 6WC twice, but had yet to stand on the box, my goal for this race was to secure her one of the infamous mugs.  And we were both using this race to prep our fast twitch muscles for Marathon Nationals.  We both had plenty of long rides under our belt, but needed to get in some speed work.

And then a first for 6WC:  they released a starter's list.  Whoa!  15 ladies' teams and some tough competition to boot!  I flip-flopped back and forth on what gear to run and finally settled on 32/20.  I had used this same gear 2 years ago when I teamed up with Ursula and had happy legs then.  I knew I would get shuttled back pretty quickly at the start, but with the heavy training load leading up to this race, I did not think I could push a 19.

I had Melissa hold my spot at the start while I did a lengthy warm up. Gone are the days when I can just hammer hard from a cold start. About 10 minutes from "go time," I approached the start line, but then hung out for a couple extra minutes, just watching Melissa squirm a bit.  You see, she was in her long pants and tennis shoes.  She definitely got nervous about whether or not she was going to have to race that first lap!

Finishing up the parade lap.

I had given brief thought to racing my geared bike for that first lap, thereby avoiding all that nonsense that happend mid-pack.  But the purist in me would not allow it.  Not to mention I would be black-listed by the SS community.  It seems every year I get to wrap handle bars with a fellow racer.  This year was no different.  Some gearie rode "up my butt" and entangled his bars with mine.  How we managed to not go down was a small miracle, but after a couple pedal strokes, we were able to free ourselves.  Nothing like a little adrenalin to help keep my HR and cadence up!

The first lap is always highly entertaining for me.  In the beginning miles, I was behind a dude that was jumping everytime there was a rise on the trail.  He was making me tired just watching him.  After a mile or so, he began to fatigue on the climbs and I was able to pass.

Then I came upon two dudes racing so close to one another it looked like they were on a tandem.  I soon found out they were "momentum-challenged" when we approached a steep descent followed by a sharp left-hander with a high berm on the right.  I seem to remember some centripetal force equation from physics (F = mv*2/r).  Anyway, this particular berm was slightly muddy.  For whatever reason, the dudes brake checked upon the approach to the berm. I was about 2 bike lengths back, my mind frantically making calculations to avoid the imminent crash that was about to happen.  Well, the dudes reached the highest point of the berm, but slowed down to a point where gravity intervened and sent them both sliding down the berm and off the trail.  I managed to put in enough power in 2 pedal strokes to maintain the minimal amount of speed necessary to clean the berm.  (I would have loved to have had a GoPro for that one!)

After about 6 miles, I found myself mostly alone, and able to find a good sustainable rhythm. Although the gearing was perfect for the climbs, I noticed that I was a bit too spinny on the flats.  I began to doubt my gear choice.

I rolled through the transition area and Melissa took off.  Now, only time would tell.  After cooling down and refueling, I went to check the first lap results.  We were in third!  Hells yeah!  Now to wait for Melissa's return.  She came rolling through about 3 minutes down on second.  Our goal looked achievable.  I took off after Hannah, hoping I could reel her in.  My legs came back around rather quickly and I was in a good zone.  With no traffic, I could save any matches I had left for the last lap. I focused on being smooth and consistent.  I soon came upon another SS'r; it was Kip!  Sweet!  He soon began to talk all about the past couple months, with most of it focusing on P36.  How he could manage to talk in sentences, all the while pedaling a tall gear, I don't know.  A real motivator for sure.

We rode most of the lap together ... and he was racing solo!  When I pulled through the transition area, Melissa yelled out that I had gained some time on second place.  Boom sauce!  Could we secure second?  It was worth a try.  I've got to hand it to Melissa.  She dug deep into her arsenal of fitness and was able to catch Lilly on her second lap.  They came through the start/finish, separated only by seconds!

Oh, boy!  The race for second place was on!  Upon entering the single track, only about 50 yards separated us.  I pedaled so fast, I thought my legs were going to become entangled around the bike like a bolo.  I was equal to Hannah's speed on the climbs, but was losing time on the flats.  Now I was really wishing I had a 19.  I could only hope that she would blow.  But mile after mile the gap slowly increased.  Around mile 7/8 I lost sight of her.  Ugghhh!  Oh well, now I focused on finishing up with a clean run.  I did not want to make any mistakes that would cost us our 3rd place.

Melissa and Lilly were on pins and needles that entire race, waiting to see who would exit the single track first.  I rolled though the finish, 1:07 behind Hannah. I was stoked that we were able to secure a position on the podium and accomplish our goal.  This was the first time I had undergeared for a race. I am not sure that had I chosen a 32/19 that it would have made any difference in the outcome, as Hannah and Lilly are super strong young women.  But, what I do know is that Coach Lynda has me on track to potentially become the strongest I have been in my mid-forties.

Stoked to share the podium with some uber strong women!

So thank you, Melissa, for asking me to partner up with you. Sometimes the best races are not the ones you win, but the ones that push you beyond what you thought your limits were.

Green Gobbler 6 Hour Race Report

Photo Credit:  Captions by Mary

This was the second race in ChainBuster Racing's Southeastern Endurance Cup.  I am using these races as prep work for Marathon Nationals (Single Speed division). The courses are very similar to what I will be racing on in Augusta in June:  fast and flowy to tight and twisty with little elevation gain.

After completing a power test a couple weeks ago and hitting an FTP that I had not seen in well over a year and a half, I was ready to put this wattage gain to a real world test.  So I threw on a cog one gear harder than I have used in the past at Conyers and was pleasantly surprised during my pre ride. I was able to clean the climbs and go a bit faster on the flats.

Race day was going to be hot!  I do love the heat and humidity, but only after being able to acclimate. One day is not quite enough. I prepared my bottles accordingly, adding Elete Electrolytes to my Torq energy drink.  The guys at Torq would most likely say that their product contains just the right amount of electrolytes, but after having lived in this body for 47 years and pushing it to its limits for the past 15 years, I know what works for me ... and keeps the cramps at bay.

Here is a summary of how the race went for me:

Lap 1:  Running a 32/19 made it a bit easier for me to enter the single track in a decent postition.  At this point I knew there was at least one woman in front of me, possible two.  Not burning any matches, I passed when the trail opened up.  The flat sections I used to refuel and spin the legs out. The two climbs were a 4/10 on the pain scale.

Lap 2;  A friend told me I was a minute and a half behind first.  Whoa! Either that chick was crazy fast and powerful, or (I was hoping) she burnt a few matches.  I did not change my game plan, but continued to cruise along, knowing that consistency is key, and the single speed makes it easy to be consistent.  I began to feel the heat on this lap ... and drank accordingly.  The two climbs were still a 4/10, and I passed several SS'rs who were pushing.

Lap 3:  As I passed through the transition area, my friend said that I had closed the gap on first a little.  The fisherwoman came out in me: time to slowly reel her back in.  I stopped briefly, swapped out bottles, and motored on.  Feeling the flow of the trail, it seemed like I was on autopilot.  The first two laps had warmed the legs and they found their happy place.  The two climbs were still a 4/10. Towards the end of this lap, I caught up to first.  I could tell by her posture that she was hurting.  I slowed a bit, wanting to be cat-like and watch for weakness.  She pulled away during the final 10 mile flat sandy stretch to the start/finish area (it was only 1/2 mile, but for a SS'r, seems to go on forever).

Lap 4:  I had to now stop by my pit area each lap as I was downing a 24 ounce bottle each lap.  I caught back up to first, made some small talk, and then slowly pulled away.  I was still in my happy bubble on this lap, and began to start making the mental calculations of how many more laps I was going to have to do.  3-4 more were going to be necessary.  The two climbs jumped up on the suffering scale, now a 5/10.  After passing through the start/finish and seeing that I was 4:03 into the race, I knew I had to do 3 more.  So I chugged my traditional Red Bull, and awaited my "wings."

Lap 5:  It was here that I began noticing the little pains:  low back, left big toe, outside of my right foot.  I began to feel every little bump and root on the trail.  What I thought was pretty smooth in the beginning now became teeth chattering.  Tons of braking bumps on the descents began to annoy me! To take my focus off the pain, I began to talk to people as I came upon and passed them.  I was very surprised at the women.  I followed one on a long descent who was buttery smooth through the corners.  And I admired those that fought for every inch of trail on the two long climbs.  At this point those climbs jumped up to 7/10 and it was about all I could do to turn over the pedals ... but I did.

Lap 6:  I felt pretty confident in maintaining first as long as I did not have a mechanical.  I had lost sight of second place in the twists and turns of the course.  I now just focused on riding smooth, especially through the creek crossings, which caused many flats on the day.  I noticed that each lap the line through the creeks changed as rocks were flung about.  The climbs jumped up another notch in intensity to 8/10, mostly due to fatigue, but they were also getting a bit chewed up, and finding traction got harder.

Lap 7:  I was now 7 minutes ahead of second and at least could rest a little easier mentally.  The last lap was relatively enjoyable.  All the body pains diminished in intensity and I focused on body position, carving the corners, and seeing how little I could use my brakes.  The long single track climb, I thought about going for it, but felt a twinge in the quads about 1/2 way up.  So I wisely chose to dismount and run up the last 30 yards.  I did manage to clean the powerline climb, but it was not a pretty site.  I hit my limit of pain at a 10/10.

I rolled through on my final lap in 5:19.  This was not easy.  The heat and taller gearing had me hurting at times, but with Coach Lynda's guidance, I had a perfect lead up in training to this race.  I am looking forward to burying myself in some L4/L5 work outs in the near future.

Sandwiched between a fast Floridian and Canadian

My power is coming back and I am feeling good about building up to my "A" race.  I definitely learned a hard lesson last year about overtraining.  It has taken me a full year to recover from digging a hole I almost did not climb back out of.  "Less is more" is my new motto.  No more back to back or back to back to back foolishness. Although I have been training less, the quality is better.  Recovery has been a bigger part of the picture as well.  I am turning into one of the "old people," who rise and set by the sun.  Pretty soon, I will be in the 4 pm supper crowd.

Stealing "cloud Pop Tart" from Karen Jarchow, as I am pretty sure I had the same feeling as her yesterday.

The other piece to this power puzzle is the functional fitness class I have been taking since December.  2-3 times per week, I take a 1 hour class that focuses on mostly body weight only exercises and high intensity cardio, although we do use barbells, dumb bells, and kettle bells, too.  I have seen tremendous gains in high power output.  I absolutely love this class and Coach Joshua is am amazing motivator.  I almost cannot take it when I have to cut these classes out during the week leading up to a race.

I must give a huge shout out to the local SORBA chapter for all the bridge work they put in to make this course fun and mudless.  My bike thanks you.  Eddie has done a wonderful job in getting sponsors who give away awesome, usable product.

Have I said how awesome Mulberry Gap is?

Looking forward to Fort Yargo in May!