ProGold Product Review

A few months back, Bruce Dickman sent me a box of goodies.  I feel that I am at a point where I can honestly assess them.

Otherwise known as their Xtreme Lube.

Fortunately for me, this year has been a dry one.  I have had very little mud on my bikes.  Where this has excelled has been on long, dry and dusty fire road training sessions.  My chain has been noise free in these conditions.  Last month I spent 3 days in Pisgah.  Although it did not rain, there were multitudes of creek crossings.  The only chain maintenance I did was to wipe the chain each night.  I did not have to apply any more lube.

This product makes bike washing fun.

It is insane how well it cleans and shines your bike.  I am uber picky about how my bikes look.  Any amount of dust, dirt, or mud causes a facial twitch that will not go away until my steeds are sparkly clean.  This product definitely decreases my work load.  My Avalanche is jealous!

NOT FOR HIRE.

The shop towels clean well, yet are non irritating to sensitive hands.  Ladies especially, if the only thing keeping you from being a grease monkey is, well, the grease, fear no more.  Purchase a tub of these and you can wrench on your bike in the morning and then enjoy an evening out on the town.

Pro Gold rocks!

Berryman Epic Race Report

A little known piece of single track heaven in the wilds of Missouri.

I had to put this on the back burner in order to get things done prior to foot surgery.  Not that I am laid up for awhile, I have time to blog away.

This one was my last hoorah for the season.  Seeing as how I was going to be out of commission for at least a month, I was going to leave everything out on the trail.  The pre-ride went well and my legs felt rested.  Coach had me doing some threshold work leading up to this race and I felt that I was ready to ride 5 hours at intensity.

Race day was brrrr! cold.  I woke to temps in the low 30's; quite a shock to my system.  I dressed lightly as I knew it would warm up and the start was a gravel road climb.  I warmed up briefly and then jumped in line as close to the front as politely possible (I was still several rows back).

The start was fast like last year.  I settled in and although my legs did not feel the best, I thought they would come around soon enough.  It was hard to tell how many ladies were ahead of me.  No worries though; my race was with the trail.  As I hit the steeper pitch going up the gravel, I felt a twinge in my right hamstring.  It lasted maybe 5 seconds; I did not think too much of it, but later it would be a premonition of what was to come.

I hit the single track with no ladies in sight.  I was locked in to a train of about 15 riders.  I settled realizing that soon enough the trail would open up.  When it did, I tried to kick it up a notch, but nothing happened.  My legs had that "achy lactic acid build up" feeling.  Really?!?  I was only 8 miles in and my legs acted like they had already pedaled 40 miles.

Hoping that my legs would come around, I focused on nutrition and momentum.  I attacked the downhills, trying to gain precious seconds.  It seemed to work as I caught up to two ladies on the descent leading to Brazil Creek.  There was a bottle neck at the creek crossing.  I guess they were afraid to get their feet wet.  It reminded me of the Planet Earth series where the herd of wildebeest were getting ready to cross the croc infested river and no one wanted to be the first to take the plunge!

As I was waited to cross, I glanced at my watch.  I was 5 minutes off last year's pace.  I grabbed my zip tie on the other side of the creek, hit the pavement for a short section, and then dove back into the woods on the Berryman Trail, just behind a lady in a Trek racing kit.  I happily let her pace me up the climb.  Even though I was in the Ozarks, these mountains are old and eroded so the climbs are neither steep nor long.  But today it felt like every climb was like Pinhoti #3.

I passed her when she stopped at a gravel road crossing.  I was now in my own little bubble.  I then used my HR to pace me.  At around mile 16, I caught up to another lady in a black/red kit (later found out this was Laura).  I struggled to stay with her on the climbs, but was able to catch back up on the descents.  As I rolled into the Berryman campground, I once again looked at my watch ... 8 minutes off last year's pace.  That was demoralizing, but then I realized I had caught up to a lady in a Sheclismo racing kit.  This gave me a much needed burst of positive energy.  I refilled my Camelbak, grabbed a gel flask, and set off on the next section of trail.  I lost track of Laura during this transition.

I hit the next bit of single track with renewed hope.  Even though I was off my game, having made contact with two ladies gave me renewed hope.  I was able to hammer this 10 mile section of single track.  I kept expecting to see Ms Sheclismo at any time, but did not make contact with her until we picked up our 3rd zip-tie at about mile 32.  It was here that we exchanged names.  Ms. Sheclismo was Sydney Brown.  I knew that name!  She was one powerful roadie who loved to hit the mountain bike scene every now and again.  We took it relatively easy on the double track climb leading to the gravel road.

Sydney thought that we were #1 and #2.  We decided to work together on the 6 miles of gravel back to the campground and aid station.  I took the first pull.  Sydney came around me and began her pull.  Within 10 seconds, I knew I this wasn't going to end well.  She dropped me like a bad habit.  I tried to keep her in sight, but slowly watched her get smaller and smaller until she was gone.

That was an ego buster.  Luckily, my ego is not that big.  Once again, it seemed to take forever to reach the campground.  Last year I reached this point in 3:27; this year it took me 3:48!  But when I finally arrived, there was Sydney!  The game was back on!  She pulled out as I was reaching into my drop bag for my little bottle of happiness ... a Red Bull shot!  I grabbed a water bottle and began the chase.

I knew I could best her in the single track.  I had ridden the last section the day before and was familiar with its sketchiness.  I had to attack and attack HARD!  The last 6 1/2 miles were on gravel and Sydney definitely had the upper hand there.  I was amazed that my legs responded!  I felt none of that achiness that I had the first 40 miles.  I caught her within the first mile, made the pass, and put the hammer down.  At first she was able to hang on, but soon I could not hear her squeaky brakes any more.  I figured I needed at least 2 minutes advantage in order to have a fighting chance. 

The first 5 miles flew by and all was going well ... until I hit this short, root-filled climb.  As I cranked down to get over the obstacles, my hamstrings locked up!  I felt as if I had been tazed!  Not wanting to fall off my bike, I grannied down and attempted to spin.  I was able to coax my cramped hamstrings to cooperate and after a couple minutes, the cramps subsided.  However, whenever I tried to amp it back up, my hamstrings began cramping. 

My race was done.  I suppose that was my body's way of keeping my heart from exploding!  Normally at the end of a race of this distance, my HR is in the low 160's.  But when I was putting the hammer down, my HR had jumped up to the mid 170's!  I cannot remember the last time my HR was that high that late in a race ... probably 10 years ago.

As I was limping along, Sydney caught back up to me.  I let her pass and encouraged her to reel in as many guys as she could.  I thought that I was in the lead; neither one of us realized that Laura was in first.

Once again, I limped to the finish.  Last year it was on a shredded tire; this year it was on shredded legs.  I managed to stay on the podium with a time of 5:21.  Sydney ended up catching Laura on the gravel and won with a time of 5:17:50.


Kudos to Sydney and Laura for having great races.  They were both so strong this year!  I was definitely out-gunned.

I must say that Zeke had an awesome race as well.  He finished mid-pack in the SS class ... but, if he had raced his age division, he would have won by 13 minutes!  Ursula had a good race as well, despite her cramps.  She finished 5th; not bad for an old lady ;).  Zeke and I are hoping that she will get bit by the endurance bug!  Both Mary and Travis succumbed to the sharp Ozark rocks and got in plenty of tire-changing practice.

Enjoyed getting to know the Fowler's.  Both are super strong racers!

Will I be back next year?  Probably, but perhaps on a SS.

Season Finale

Sweet single track!

 
This weekend is the Berryman Epic, a 55 mile romp through the woods of Missouri.  Last year was my first time and aside from a mechanical that cost me first place, I had an absolute blast.  Super fun flowy trail with a few technical bits thrown in to keep you on your toes.  This would be the perfect race for someone's first foray into the endurance XC scene.  Spots still available! 

This will be my last race for the year.  On October 28, I will be having surgery to remove the bastard neuromas in both my feet.  I was hoping it was not going to come to this, but after 7 weeks of conservative therapy, the pain is still there.  Granted, it is at a tolerable level, but I cannot enjoy epic rides, short runs, or just playing with my daughter without that constant nagging pain of every footstep. Nervous, but optimistic.  Down time will be around 1 month per the doc. Time to focus on weight and core training anyway.

I was planning on ripping the trails off the map at the Berryman, but I got "glutened" by Charlie's mom last Saturday.  Carly and I went up to spend the weekend with his parents.  I was very specific and diligent about my gluten intolerance with his mom, but apparently she forgot to read a label.  She prepared chili, but instead of using spices out of spice jars, she chose a chili seasoning (unbeknownst to me).  Care to guess what the first ingredient on that label was?!? 

About 2 hours after dinner, I knew I was screwed.  After interrogating her again about the ingredients, I discovered her (and my) error.  So now Buddha is back; probably for about a week.  I do hope I can ditch him by this Saturday.  Stomach pain, abdominal distension, difficulty with deep breathing, insomnia AND racing at intensity for 5 hours DO NOT MIX!

From my previous "glutened" experience, it takes about a week for me to feel normal again.  I will be cutting it close.  Oh well, that will be my handicap, I guess.

The Path Less Traveled

While Daddy was in Arkansas getting some prep work done on the lease in preparation for opening day of duck season, Carly and I decided to have our own little adventure.  We went to the Tellico River and "mini-bouldered."

I thought about helmets while Carly scaled this one.  Next time!

This girl may fuss a little when it comes to riding bikes or hiking well-defined trail, but when big rocks and water are present, she is all smiles.  We "creek-walked/bouldered/butt-slid for about 2 hours along the Tellico and one of its tributaries.  I had an absolute blast!  Carly has got Mountain Goat skills; she slipped only once.

This little fall was about a mile in on one of Tellico's tributaries.

We wanted to see what was just above the falls, but the two options were very tricky.  Me, being "The Worrier," opted to not push our luck today.  Having another adult along would have made it more negotiable.  We will be back to tackle it later.

 

We stopped and ate lunch.  The fish were pretty happy about that as they got their first taste of Cheez-Its.

The part of mothering I absolutely love!

 Carly's leaping abilities amaze me.  On one particular water crossing, she cleaned a 4 1/2 foot jump ... from a standstill.  I opted for the easier route; I knew my limits!

As we were scaling a rather large and technically challenging rock, Carly stated that if Daddy were here, he would be saying, "Be careful, be careful, be careful, be careful ..."  What she didn't realize is that what was going through my mind on auto repeat.

Not your typical girls' day out.

Wow!  You CAN have fun without a bike being involved.

Morton's Neuroma

Today, I saw my podiatrist, along with a bag of shoes, pedals, and foot beds.  After deep palpation of my 3rd inter-metatarsal spaces, which elicited a few whimpers, my doc said,  "I believe you have a Morton's neuroma in both feet.  I also had the classic gap sign between my third and fourth toes where the fibrotic nerve is so large it is pushing apart my metatarsal heads.

See the space between the 3rd and 4th piggies!

Radiographs ruled out any bony pathologies.  When he placed the ultrasound on the area of suspicion, he outlined the two neuromas.  Basically, the nerve that runs between the metatarsal heads is normally the size of angel hair pasta.  My neuromas, however, are the size of large green peas!  No wonder the pain was so intense!  

Doc then outlines different methods of treatment.  One is a series of 5 alcohol injections over 5 weeks to kill the nerve.  He sees a 50% success rate.  The other is surgical removal.  Two small incisions over the top of the foot, and cut out the offending portion of nerve. No real down time; I could be back on the bike the next day!  The only potential complication is a stump neuroma, which he said happens about 10% of the time.

For the short term, he injected the area with marcaine and dexamethasone, bringing about instant relief!  If you look closely at the picture above, you can see a needle mark on each foot at the 3rd inter-metatarsal space.  I love any doctor that can relieve pain without prescription drugs!

He agreed on all my methods of orthotic management with the wide toebox, the Specialized BG footpeds with the metatarsal bump, and the XTR pedals.  But he said that more than likely, until the neuroma is excised, I will have recurring episodes of pain.

He said the injections could help for 1 week, 1 month, 6 months, or maybe even a year.  We shall see, I guess.  But I am prepared to have those little bastards cut out if necessary.  As much as I am on my feet at work and on the bike when not, I will probably have to undergo the knife in the future.

Today was the first pain free day on the bike since TNGA.  I felt so good I almost cried!  I did not feel every friggin little bump and for once forgot about my feet.  I also tried out my modified Specialized MTB shoes.  I was able to move the cleats back 1 cm with the modification.

I was able to drill out the carbon sole and move the cleat plate further aft.

Riding my SS today, I really did not notice any difference in this new cleat position or power transfer.  It might be more noticeable when riding gears and staying in the saddle more.  I suspect I will have to make saddle adjustments and will defer to Eddie for that.

Metatarsalgia

Otherwise known as hot foot, this condition was my undoing at Trans North Georgia.  15 hours in to the race and it had me writhing in agony on the climb up Hogpen Gap at 10 pm.

Two weeks later, with a week off the bike, it is still there, a constant source of burning, tingling, numbness which is beginning to take its toll on my sanity.  The pain is bearable now, more of a sense of intense pressure, but it is never ending.

I have spent almost every waking hour trying to come to some "light bulb" solution to end my misery and get me back on the bike with happy feet.  I have enlisted the aid of bike crack addicts Dave Byers, Lynda Wallenfels, Ruth Cunningham, and Eddie O'dea.

I have done all the usual things:  wide toe box, aft cleat positioning, wide platform.  All those were in place pre-TNGA.  Post-TNGA, Eddie  addressed pedaling technique.  Yep, after several rides, I figured out that I was pretty much following his advice during the race.

So two things are gonna happen ... soon.  Tomorrow, I am going to see my podiatrist, hoping that he has "the magic pill."  After much research and seeing how my hot foot has progressed over the past year, I am almost convinced that I have Morton's Neuroma.

Hopefully, the doc will give me some promising information with regards to surgery ... if indeed that is what I have.  Otherwise, I am gonna ask him to cut off both feet and attach artificial feet made out of carbon fiber!

In the meantime, I have put on my cobbler hat and started to alter a pair of old Specialized MTB shoes with carbon sole.  My intention is to move my cleats back another centimeter.

This plus

this plus

this will hopefully equal pain free pedaling!

I gotta run to Lowe's to get a 1/4" drill bit.  I hope to give it a go tomorrow.  As there are many of you out there that have this condition as well, I will keep you posted on my progress.  Being in pain and not being able to pursue your passion is NOT FUN.

TNGA

It is 10 am on Monday September 5.  At this point I had expected to be pedaling up Strawberry Mountain, not blogging about calling it quits with only 13 hours and 115 miles into this monster of a race.  I had what I thought was a solid race/fueling/rest plan but I was also mentally prepared to adapt to hiccups along the way.

Pumped at the start!

I felt great at the start.  We all took off at a conversational pace.  Once we hit the first gravel climb, the pack broke up.  I was in my happy all day pace and slowly watched people pass me one by one.  A lot of standing and cranking going on around me while I just sat and stayed all spinny, using granny early on.  The roads were in good shape; there had been some rain the day before and the gravel was a bit more settled than when I had reconned this section back in July.

I slowly started reeling the others back in once we hit the climb up to Blackstump Gap along FS155.  This is a doozy with steep pitches and super loose gravel.  A couple times I had to get off and push a bit as my rear wheel would lose traction and spin out.  No worries, though.  Walking was good as it kept me from digging too deep too early.

I walked my bike down the Darnell Creek Horse Trail until I got to the purple painted tree.  Here I dropped trowel and urinated.  It was 10 am.  I then motored on and enjoyed the gradual descent down to Hwy 441.  I refilled my 70 ounce bladder at the post office; they had an outdoor spigot.  It was now 11:15 am.  A little over 3 hours in and I had drank close to 80 ounces of fluid.

From there I began the arduous task of climbing up to 3 more gaps before I would hit the fun descent down to Moccasin Creek State Park.  I was feeling great at this point and my mantra was, "Don't force the climbs.  Let the gaps come to you."  I alternated between my middle ring and my granny as the terrain dictated, keeping my feet light on the pedals.  I continued to drink every 15 minutes and eat every 30 minutes.  I kept my mind busy by going over my refueling plan and making sure my body was taking in enough.

I never really felt hot, but was later told that temperatures hit 96 degrees.  Granted I had sweat dripping from my nose and elbows, but I felt o.k.  That is, until I picked up FS164 off of Hwy 76.  This is at about mile 58.  When I started descending, I started getting "hot foot."  The pain was intermittent and more of a nuisance at this point.

I rolled into Moccasin Creek State Park at about 3:30 pm.  I stopped at the campground for water and a short break.  When I kneeled down to open my Camelbak, my left hamstring cramped.  Yowzer!  I stood back up and the cramping stopped.  It was then that I noticed just how salt-stained my shorts were.  After refilling with another 60 ounces of water, I ate a Hammer bar and took a few Endurolytes.

Although my chain was holding up quite well, what with all the creek crossings, I decided to do some preventative maintenance and lube it up with some ProGold Extreme.  When I reached in to my back pocket for the tiny bottle, I found nothing!  Apparently it had yard-saled itself in the past 3 hours.  I guess now I would get to see just how good of a product ProLink has. (BTW, the chain was quiet all day!)


After about 20 minutes, I headed for Addis Gap.  The climb up Wildcat Creek (FS26-1) is gentle compared to the previous climbs, but was not any easier.  It was here that I had the first inkling of fatigue.  I figured that this was just my 60-70 mile slump period which I usually have when doing hundies.  So as I climbed, I counted calories and ounces and was right on track.  However, I was continually interrupted by the nagging pain in my feet which slowly began radiating up my toes.  By the time I got to the top, it felt as if someone was stabbing the balls and toes of my feet with a searing hot dagger.  I stopped at the top for a moment.  I dropped trowel and attempted to pee ... nothing.  Let me remind you that this was about 7 hours after my first pee.  Not good!

I applied more Chamois Butt'r, forced myself to drink 10 ounces immediately and began the descent.  Man o man, that was some sloppy, stupid descending.  Every jolt sent waves of pain through my forefoot.  I was lucky to stay upright.

The climb up Tray Mountain was miserable.  This 10 mile loose gravel climb did me in.  What normally takes me 1 1/2 hours on a loaded bike took a little over 2 hours today.  Each pedal stroke hurt and then my knees started to hurt.  This was probably due to a sloppy pedal stroke caused by me trying to find a painless way to pedal.  I got off the bike and tried to walk; that hurt more.  So back on the bike. 

This was just not fun anymore.  Yeah, I love to suffer, all ultra-endurance racers do ... but not in this fashion.  With night falling, I made the decision that if the fun did not come back by Helen, I was out!  I got to ride Hickory Nut in the dark.  Thankfully, the 4 racers ahead of me had cleaned it up a bit.  As riding was less painful than walking, I rode more of it than I ever had.  Got squirrely a few times, but managed to keep the rubber side down.

I stopped at the convenience store at the intersection of Hwy 356 and Hwy 75, went inside, and purchased some food to see me through to the next refueling point.  By this point, it was 9 pm.  My feet actually felt slightly better, so I motored over to Wendy's, eat, and reassess my body.

Hoping this would make me feel better.

While waiting in line for my food, I started getting light headed.  I then began to see stars.  Sensing that I was going to pass out, I immediately sat down.  The dizziness subsided, but I got some strange looks from those around me.  I guess they were not used to seeing (or smelling) a fully kitted dirty mountain bike racer who had just raced 102 miles through the Chattahoochee National Forest.

After eating one of the most delicious Wendy's meals EVER, I made the decision to ride up HogPen and find some place to settle for the night.  I went to the restroom and urinated.  A decent volume but pretty yellow.  This was my second pee of the day. 

My feet were still hurting a little, but I was praying that the pain would eventually turn to numbness.  I called my family and told them of my plans.  I left Wendy's at 10 pm.

I was feeling o.k. riding out to the base of Hogpen.  But once the pavement started going up, my body imploded once again.  It was taking me 12-14 minutes to ride one mile and my foot and knee pain returned with just as much intensity as before. 

With no regrets, I stopped at a pull over and called Zeke.  At 11 pm it was game over!  Continuing would only be stupidly selfish on my part.  I had not only myself to be worried about, but I have a loving husband and wonderful daughter who need me.

Looking back at that day now, I could have made some choices that probably would have prevented my moderate electrolyte depletion/dehydration.  I could have stopped and layed over at Moccasin Creek or Helen, replenished, and rested.  At the time, I did not think I was dehydrated.  During the first 12 hours, I had drank 200+ ounces of  fluid. Apparently I was sweating it out faster than I could take it in. 

However, I don't think that would have fixed my foot issue.  In prior races, I would have bouts of metatarsal pain, but it always went away.  Today it did not go away; it only intensified.  Ultimately, I would have had to throw in the towel at some point. 

Then there was the fact that Tropical Depression Lee was fast approaching.  Prior to my debacle, I had accepted the fact that I was probably going to have to ride for 12-18 hours in the rain.  On a good day, I have the strength and will power to do that.  But when my body started failing, so did the mind. 

I guess my only regret is that I did not make it to Mulberry Gap.  I was so looking forward to the camaraderie and Ginni's fabulous grub.  Bailing there would have been a lot more fun!

Live and learn to race again!