Sandlin's Shred Race Report

 

Sandlin's Shred is War Daddy's little brother.  Even though it is only 32 miles, it has 5000 feet of punchy, technical gain. While War Daddy is touted as the hardest bike race in Kentucky, Sandlin's Shred could easily be purported to be the second hardest.  Race director John Maggard, aka Trail_Sick, puts on a wonderful event, what with tons of schwag, raffles, food, and beer. I love love love the vibe of this grassroots event.  The number of registered racers has grown throughout the years, from a small group of 40 in 2019 to 115 for this edition.

It has been 3 weeks since my knee injury.  I had an MRI done 3 days ago, but would not know the results until the week after the race. My doctor was worried about a meniscal tear, while I was hoping for a Grade 1 medial collateral ligament tear. With a rapid improvement in pain over the past 10 days, I was hopeful I could at least ride, if not race, the shorter distance.

Although it poured rain the day before, I woke up to a warm 60 degrees and clear skies.  Both races incorporate pavement, gravel/dirt, and trail.  I can count on my fingers the number of gravel bikes that have attempted either race since its inception in 2019.  I think I saw two this morning ... poor bastards 😆.  I chose Ripley, my Trek SuperCaliber, with 2.3 Bontrager XR3 on the front and a 2.2 XR2 on the rear.  I was running SRAM AXS with a 32T chainring and a 10-52 cassette. At 22 pounds, I would take the 3.5 pound penalty over my gravel bike.

After Trevor's shotgun start (he shotgunned a beer), it was fairly neutral for the first two miles on pavement ... well, until the e-bikes started up the climb.  Then everyone began to hammer.  I tried, but at this point my engine was not warmed up, and I was nervous about how my knee might respond to the increased wattage.  The past 3 weeks had been easy spinning.  So I let them go, along with 5 women.

Towards the end of the climb, I reeled in two of the women as we turned onto gravel.  This 8 mile section was beautiful and the rains has settled the gravel/dirt and made it fast.  I could tell my fitness was off, as I struggled on the climbs.  Fortunately my knee stayed pain-free, even when I attempted to put more power down.  This made me VERY happy, as the past 3 weeks had me fighting off the depression demon.  

I managed to catch another woman at the top of the Rattlesnake Run climb.  From there is was some fun descending down Gilbert Creek Road (gravel as well).  It was here that I reeled in Sarah.  I passed her on the descent, but when I turned off the gravel onto a short section of flat pavement, she was right back on.  We shared pulls until we turned off onto a rocky double track road, which soon pitched up to the heavens ... the War Daddy climb!  With an average grade of 11%, it climbed 600 feet over a mile.  Sarah slowly pulled ahead, but then lost traction on the loose chunky rock, and began HAB'ing.  I was able to make a pass, at a snail's pace, but I was still pedaling.  I was bound not to get off and push, as my knee clearly did not like dismounting and HAB'ing. 

Sarah soon caught back up to me as we crested the climb. Over the next 5 miles we would leapfrog each other as she was strong on the climbs and I was faster on the descents.  Around mile 16, I was treated with a "new to 2023" section of single track.  Old school and hand-cut, I giggled with excitement as I rode this 1 mile section.  I also managed to pull away from Sarah. It was in great shape, save for a few muddy spots.  As it dipped down into a creek and then abruptly turned up on the other side, I respected my knee's wishes, got off and walked it.  I knew that any out of the saddle bursts of torque were off-limits.  

Popping out onto more gravel, I motored over to the aid station at mile 18.  The volunteers were super helpful.  I was in and out in a flash, after topping off my bottle and grabbing a Gu.  As I headed out of the aid station, I glanced back, half expecting to see Sarah, but did not.

Even though the course was well marked, when I came upon the mile section of gravel which you repeat on Sandlin's Shred, I momentarily lost confidence in my navigation.  Memories of my navigational error at Gravel World's last year made me doubt myself now.   So I stopped for a moment and zoomed my map out ... all was well.  

I started pedaling again and began picking the pace back up when my left leg cramped!  Holy cow, that hurt!  At that moment I definitely knew that my fitness had tanked because I NEVER cramp.  I also must have been pushing a little harder with my left leg than my right leg with the injured knee.  I shifted into granny and began to spin easy until it released.  "Meter your effort" became my new mantra.

Soon I hit the 6 mile section of single track, part of the Redbud moto trail system.  The rains had made it muddy and slick.  I was wishing for a dropper through some of the trickier descents.  The HAB's grew in distance and number compared to last year when it was dry.  My knee began to twinge with some pain during them.  I managed to figure out how to place the right foot as to minimize any torque on the knee.  I also wisely chose to walk a couple descents for fear of re-injury, although the walking was almost as scary.

After a bazillion mudholes, riding some, but skirting around most, I popped out onto the coal mine section.  Only 6 miles to go, but damn, that's a long 6 miles!  Felt more like 10! I was so tired but had to keep hammering.  Around each corner I was hoping to catch a glimpse of first place.  When that didn't happen, I was desperately hoping that the road would turn downward to the final descent to the finish line.  That never happened!  Like for a LONG time!  I finally lost my shit with about 2 to go and started cussing the damn mine!😄😄😄

At last, there she was ... the rutted out, baby-head rocks galore gravel road!  At this point, I lost all concern with my knee and just let Ripley eat this descent like a lab "hoovering" up chow!  I rolled across the finish line in 3:11.  My goal had been 3 hours, but I will gladly take the additional 11 minutes, because today was a huge success. Today my fitness hurt more than my knee, but that is something that can be improved.  

And then I was told that I had won!  The woman who was ahead of me was in the e-bike category, so yea me!  Icing on the cake!

There was plenty of food and drink at the finish line, as well as a bike wash, so I cleaned up and then refueled while waiting the arrival of Dave and John, who raced the War Daddy.  I must say, it was nice to just sit, relax, and chat amongst the Shredders for a few hours.  I had briefly thought that I could have raced the big one, but realized, while icing the knee, that I had made the right decision.  I hated not being able to defend the helmet, but there's always next year!

Both John and Dave had a good race, with John getting a few bonus miles missing a turn.  Later that evening, there was an after party at Wendover B&B.  The race director's family and friends brought home-cooked food and there was plenty of beer and moonshine for those that wanted to get saucy!  After the meal, we all gathered around the fire and listened to guitar music, under a moonlit sky.  Now THIS is what I call a well run small town big country event.  Kentucky gravel is no joke!

Tips by Trevor:  how to read a GPS track

Love my Rescue Racing team mates!

Moonshine to the winners!

Oak Mountain Adventure Race

 

A month ago Lisa asked me to do this adventure race, as her male team mate was out with an injury. This was supposed to be a shakedown for her big adventure in Arkansas April 3-8, the Expedition Ozark. This would be a first for me and I am not gonna lie; I was definitely nervous.  Lisa had been putting in a crap ton of training for Expedition Ozark; I was worried that I might have a hard time hanging onto her pace. But fuck it! As Robert Browning so wonderfully said it, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp." (Funny, but this would literally come into play during the second trek).

Storms rolled through the night before, and the ground was wet as we arrived at the venue.  But the forecast was near perfect: sunny skies and 57-78 degrees. This AR had a 10 hour cut off. 48 teams (1-4 people) were signed up. There was 1 paddle, 2 treks, and 2 bikes.  Maps and CP's (a total of 32) were handed out at 6 am, which gave Lisa 2 hours to plot our course.  She pulled out her box of Sharpies (like a kid with a 32 count Crayon box) and made short work of it.  There were two TA's (transition areas).  TA 1 was the Start/Finish area, from which we could choose paddle or the first trekking section. She decided to have us do the paddle section first (6 CP's) because she figured more teams would do the trek first.  And she potentially did not want having a bunch of teams "up her butt" or "bird-dogging" us.

The lake was like glass as we paddled to our first checkpoint next to the spillway which was at the opposite end of the lake.  All the paddle CP's were on land, so we would have to exit the canoe each time. The cool breeze felt good against my cheeks as we made our way. We (and I only say "we" as I should have said something about the spillway potentially being slippery, but I kept my mouth shut ... being the rookie) decided to land the canoe on the concrete that sloped 30 degrees into the water.  Big mistake!  I got out ok, but the boat started to drift backwards as Lisa was attempting to get out.  My foot as well as hers hit the underwater portion of the concrete that was covered in algae and we both slowly slid down into the lake.  We silently struggled as other canoes caught up to us, saw our predicament, and exited the water elsewhere.  We somehow managed to get back up on the spillway, but it cost us a minute or two.  

Fortunately we nailed the remaining 6 CP's with ease and finished the 4 mile paddle in just over an hour. Hopefully that would be the worst of our mistakes for today. Before we went back to TA #1 (which was essentially our vehicles), we ran and grabbed CP #1 on the trek, since it wasn't far from the canoe take out.  Then we ran back to our vehicles and changed out our paddling shoes to dry running shoes. This first trek which included 6 CP's took less than 50 minutes and covered 3 1/2 miles. None of the CP's were directly on a trail.  Here is where I saw Lisa shine!  Navigating on the fly, bushwhacking off trail to find the CP's, she made not one mistake!  I was amazed.  It was like the checkpoints were chum and she was a tiger shark, coming in for the kill! Yep, that is her AR spirit animal.  I would say mine is the sheep:  pretty sure footed running up draws and scrambling up and over ridgelines as well as being a great follower 😆😆😆.

Arriving back at our vehicles, we changed into our cycling gear. Since we would not be coming back to TA #1 until the finish, I secured my Hoka's to my Salomon running hydration vest.  They fit perfectly in the trekking pole loops.  

The first bike section was pretty straight forward.  We rode up the paved Peavine Falls Road, grabbing two CP's along the way. I was on the struggle bus up this climb, as my running legs and cycling legs were not on the same page.  This biking portion was 5 miles long and took about 35 minutes. TA #2 was at the top of the mountain.   Here we ditched the bikes and put on our running shoes.  I thought I was transitioning pretty fast, but Lisa was already moving out on the second trek as I was stuffing my face with a PayDay and trying to chase it down with water.  She would give Clark Kent a run for his money in the transition time department.

This second trek was longer and more laborious and the ascents/descents were long and steep. There were 9 CP's and we hit them in this order:  15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 18, and 23. Checkpoint #17 was the most difficult as it was the furthest off trail and was at the bottom of a tiny waterfall.  You definitely had to be on your A game to find this one.  Lisa rose to the occasion and skillfully got us there with no meandering.

So impressed with my teamy!

The next CP had us bushwhacking straight up and over the mountain, gaining 500 feet in 1/2 mile.  All the bear crawls I have done at my local gym finally paid off.  We grabbed one on the ridge then scrambled down the other side to grab another, then up and over another ridge to get another.  They all seemed to involve bushwhacking with lots of ascent/descent.  My quads, calves, and achilles were put through the ringer.  

CP #19

Then came the checkpoint at Peavine Falls.  There was a trail down to the base of the falls and let me tell you; it was pretty treacherous and involved 3 points of contact. You definitely did not want to roll an ankle or trip over your feet because there was not a railing or fence to catch you from plummeting 20 yards straight down.  The kicker was the placement of the CP.  Remember the previous words of Robert Browning ...

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp."

Lisa was tippy toe ballerina style to punch the card, ripping it in the process.  That ledge she was on was super slick.  I had to enlist the help of  a tall dude enjoying a Saturday with his family at the falls to help get Lisa back down off that ledge! 

Seven miles and 2 hours 20 minutes later and we were back at TA 2.  I had emptied my hydration bladder 45 minutes prior so that ice cold Coke was a life saver.  While changing back to bike shoes, getting more water and refueling, we discovered that we were the first ones back from the trek. That was encouraging! I gulped down 2 gels (90 mg caffeine each), because I knew the last biking section was gonna get rowdy.  I could tell Lisa was going in for the kill!

It felt so good to be back on the bike.  I got to ride the Thunder and Slingshot for the first time. Checkpoint 25 we hit from two different angles.  Lisa was "on the money" the first time we started bushwhacking down to it; we just did not go far enough.  Approaching it from a further bit down the bike trail involved a butt slide down (had to be 45 degrees steep) and a claw your way back to the top.  

I still don't know how Lisa managed to know exactly when to get off the trail and begin bushwhacking and looking for the three dimensional orange and white framed flags.  That lady has a gift for looking at the map and reading the terrain ... while riding her bike.  Un-f'ing-believable.  

Some of these were hiding behind trees or rocks.

Other than CP 25, she was only one spur off CP 27.  Towards the end of the bike section, we saw the second place team several times.  It was getting down to the wire.  Lisa pulled off the coup de grace when we used a horse trail and several bushwhacks by bike to secure the final 3 CP's.

The last bike section was 15 miles and took us 2 1/2 hours. We hit the finish in a final time of 7 hours 34 minutes, clearing the course with all 32 checkpoints.  Total mileage was 35 miles with 5000 feet of climbing (3000 feet ascent/descent was the 2 trekking portions). 

That was 55 minutes faster than the predicted time of 8 1/2 hours.  My first AR experience and we were first overall!  

Thanks Lisa for believing in me ... and allowing me to get those last punches in.  I was so nervous I would not punch it right or punch the wrong CP or drop the punch card.  Thank you baby Jesus for no mistakes on my part.

No doubt it was hard for me, so I can only imagine the pressure that was upon Lisa, being the ONLY navigator on the team.  She was smooth as silk.  She only showed the slightest frustration during CP 25 and only for a minute.  She was able to redirect quickly and efficiently and we lost minimal time there.  I have no doubt, barring any misfortune, Team Warrior is going to perform well at Expedition Ozark.  I cannot wait to watch the Live Feed.

As for me, I absolutely love this kind of racing.  It reminds me of being a kid and adventuring through our farm and nearby farms with my brothers.  Back in the days when trespassing wasn't a big deal.  We would dress up in camo, pack a sandwich, and follow creeks and pretend we were "living off the land."  At least until we started getting hungry again and then head back home.

If I am going to continue with this AR thing, I feel the need to at least learn to read maps better.  The Master Men's winner was 74 years old, so that gives me twenty years ... right?

 

Garland Mountain 10K Trail Race

 

So soft and comfy ... the Vuori of race T's

Initially I had signed up for the 1/2 marathon distance, but a nagging patellar ligament injury led me to drop down to the 10k.  I had raced the 1/2 last year for the first time and had a blast.  Rolling into the venue at 7 am after a 2 hour drive, I was happy to be racing the shorter distance.  Old Man Winter is not giving up too easily this spring and the temperature was 32 degrees with 10mph winds.

After doing half of my warm up from inside the cab of my truck (when you are small, the passenger area of Biggie G is perfect for some glute/hip activation exercises and dynamic stretching), I hopped out and ran a few laps around the parking lot.

My warm up view from inside the truck

The race started with me hitting the single track in the top 5.  Wait?  What am I doing up here?  I was going way too fast ... slow down greyhound!  It was hard to settle in at first since the beginning was a steady descent.  When the trail began to rise, I slowed down as my breathing started to become ragged.  Yes, it was only 6+ miles, but I did not need to implode in the first half.

Yesterday, Lisa had messaged me and said to expect sloppy muddy trails, as she was signing the course in a steady rain.  However, the winds during the night must have helped because it was not as bad as I was anticipating.  Last night had me worried about the integrity of my ligaments if I were to experience a slip n slide (think torn ACL or hip labrum).  Within that first mile, I knew I was going to be ok.  While wet and muddy in spots, overall it was in good shape.  And my Hoka Speedgoats never once lost grip.

As I made my way through miles 2 and 3, I was passed by a few racers.  I was running comfortably hard and knew there were just 2 women ahead of me.  As fast as they had gone out, I wasn't expecting to catch them, but wanting to try to hold 3rd.  

At the point in the race where the 2 distances split (4.5 mile mark), the 10k'rs were sent up this steep ass climb.  This segment was 1/4 mile long at an average grade of 12% ... ouch.  I just kept telling myself at least I was not pushing a bike, just myself.  My running went to power hiking in the middle, but once I saw the crest, I began running again.

The next mile rolled and I was able to recover a little.  The final mile included a long steep descent followed by a gut punch 1/2 mile climb to the finish.  The descent was technical, what with loose rock as well as some deep muddy spots.  For whatever reason, I felt confident sending it.  My footwork has definitely improved over the past year or two.  

The final climb was a challenge to not slow down.  My monkey brain was all about "let's just enjoy this finish and take it easy."  Well, FU monkey!  I pushed through the pain of ragged breathing and heavy legs, wanting to  achieve my goal of a sub 1 hour finish.  So ... stinkin' ... close ... 1:01:21.

I ended up 1st AG and 2nd O/A, so extremely satisfied.  Even though my heart longs for the longer distances, my body quite likes the "fast and furious" short stuff.  Wisdom is telling me that not every competition has to be "big and dumb."  So I am going to take this to heart and rethink the remainder of this season.

Snake Creek Gap TT -- 34 Mile

What a difference one month later makes.  Even though the starting temperature was 33 degrees, I was never once was cold.  The light rain the night before did not affect trail conditions.  The course was dry and fast.  "Fast" for Snake standards is still dauntingly tough; every year the rocks grow and the steeper sections get more blown out.  

I managed to get off the line a little after 8 am, thanking the volunteers for "turning the heat up" this month.  I would be more than happy to contribute to the heat bill next year, if they needed the funds for February, too.  There were still a couple puddles to dance around in the first two miles and I used the first climb to warm up the engine.  The first bit of single track was quite "sticky,"; lots of blow downs and smaller limbs to contend with.  Staying conservative, I dismounted for most of the log crossings; one thing I have not mastered is log hopping.

Cruising down the gravel moguls, I had a difficult time accessing my pocket for my gel flask.  Once I managed to get it, I then had to hold it in my mouth until the ensuing climb.  I got squirrely on the descent off Pine Needle Hill, but managed to save it.  The "horsed up" area around Pocket Road had improved significantly over last month.  I found the "secret passage" through the following creek crossing and kept my feet dry.

The Horn Mountain climb was no easier; this one is always a gut punch for me. I rolled down into the parking lot aid station in 1:59.  Only 9 minutes faster than last month ... hmmm.   And those 9 minutes were probably all due to improved course conditions.  I also noticed my heart rate never exceeded 150 on the climbs; well below what I am used to.  I did the same as last month, ditching the CamelBak, grabbing a bottle, and chugging a gel.

Middle Mountain was pleasant.  I had just ridden this section a few days ago with Honcho leading the way.  I imagined him and his floofy little pantalones just ahead of me as I ground my way up this 1.5 mile climb.

I cruised the descent, plowed through the creek crossings, and then began climbing up to the single track section.  I was tired but in my happy place and looking forward to challenging myself on the endless rock gardens for the umpteenth time.  I dropped my seat on the vomit hill descent and, at the bottome, when I hit the button to raise it ... nothing.  Grrrr!  All momentum was lost.  I stopped, removed my seat bag, uninstalled and then reinstalled the battery, and voila!  It worked again.  This was the second time this has happened to me with my AXS Reverb dropper.  I HAB'd up to a level spot and hopped back on.

I made short work of the remaining single track.  Well, not really, but was having so much fun on this last section, the cell towers were there before I knew it.  I finished up with an aero tuck down to the finish, riding through at 4:23.

My second half of the race went much better, shaving off 12 minutes from last month.  And feeling strong while doing it.  And this second half of the course wasn't much different than last month's in terms of conditions, so I gotta say it was my fitness that did it here.  At least that is what I am telling myself.

No other 40+ women showed up, so I took the W by default.  I wish more women would race The Snake, but it takes you wanting to go to the "hurt locker" to sign up for it.

Huge shout out to all the volunteers in making this happen, for the 19th year in a row.  There is so much "behind-the-scenes" work to make this happen.  It is no small feat and they give up a lot of their personal time, so that we can have fun for a few hours.  I am afraid that next year, the 20th, may be The Snake's last.  As much as I would love to continue to race this long into my 60's, if it is indeed the final one, I will shed some tears, but will continue to challenge myself on the "trail that bites!"

I also need to take a deep dive into my own health, as this inability to hit my heart rate at the higher end of my perceived efforts has me concerned.  I feel ok, initial bloodwork is normal, but my cardiovascular system has been "off" since December.  And then I got 2 respiratory infections, one the week before Christmas, and the other the week after my Florida bike-cation.  Could they be a factor still?  Time to get all "sciency". 

Deka Fit Race Report

WTF am I doing?!?

I was nervous; the usual butterflies were replaced by a knot in my stomach that was making me queezy.  You see, this was a first for me.  I was stepping into the unknown lands of a new kind of competition.  Sure, I had done all these moves before, but at my gym, under no pressure, and not all in sequence, going as hard as you can.

Deka-Fit is just one of many competitions under the "umbrella" of Spartan races.  This one had 10 zones, each preceded by a 500 meter run.  

Zone 1:  30 alternating reverse lunges with a 33 pound RAM

Zone 2:  500 meter row

Zone 3:  20 box jump step over

Zone 4:  25 med ball sit-up throws

Zone 5: 500 meter ski

Zone 6:  100 meter farmer's carry with 2 40 pound dumbbells

Zone 7:  25 calorie air bike

Zone 8:  20 dead ball wall overs with 40 pound ball

Zone 9:  100 meter tank push/pull

Zone 10:  20 burpees with a 22 pound RAM

I had done a "dress rehearsal" at a steady but not hard pace two weeks prior, which had taken me 54 minutes.  My goal for today was sub-47 minutes. This was gonna be a fast and furious sprint!

I had signed up in the age group category.  However, during registration, you picked a wave time, so you were not necessarily going head-to-head with others in your age group.  (Something I wish Spartan would change, so I would know who I was racing against.) We were sent off in groups of 5 every 3-4 minutes.  I was in the back, nervously fretting, when there was room for one more with a group of men.  No other women wanted to move up, so I jumped on in with the dudes.

Let's get the party started already!

Each 500 meter run was 2 trips around the arena.  I had done a proper warm up, so I felt good at the start.  Although I felt I could run faster, I wisely settled in behind the guys.  I entered Zone 1 and began lunging out the reps.  There were referees that made sure you did the movements properly, as well as counting out the reps for you.  I made a rookie mistake here, of not touching my knee to the ground ... twice.  The ref did not catch it and gave me credit for the rep, but I corrected myself and ended up doing 2 extra reps.

 

The second 500 meter run I don't even remember, probably because I was still feeling good.  I do remember, though, having to weave around slower runners.  Starting at 10:30 (first wave went at 9 am) meant there was a lot of traffic on course.

Coming into Zone 2, I made a quick transition onto the rower and began stroking out the meters.  All systems were still going strong.

Coming off the row, my legs were still feeling great.  I made quick work of the 2 laps and settled into Zone 3.  The box here at the competition was padded and not as heavy as the wooden boxes at my gym, but my body adjusted quickly to the slight movement underneath as the stepped over.  

As I headed out for my 4th run, I felt the "sting" of the box overs and it took about a half a lap before the legs livened up. I entered Zone 4 and got into sit up position. Having practiced this at my gym where I was throwing the ball above a 4 1/2 foot line, I was pleasantly surprised that the strike plate here was significantly lower, which made knocking out those 25 reps much easier.

Two more laps around and I entered Zone 5.  By far, the ski felt the easiest.  I focused on using my upper body to pull down, allowing my legs a little bit of a breather. 

With happy running legs, I knocked out another 2 laps and entered Zone 6.  Carrying 70% of my bodyweight, I meandered through the 100 meter maze.  Once again, I was happy that I had misjudged the distance while practicing at my gym (carried the weights 125 meters) because it made this zone easier to manage.

Five hundred more meters of running and next up was Zone 7, my nemesis, the 25 calorie bike.  As much as I love cycling, the hate this machine.  I get nowhere ... slow.  That big resistance fan only makes it harder the faster I try to go.  And this is where the sh!t hit the fan.  My first mental struggle as my body was feeling the effects of the last 7 runs and 6 zones.

The run following the bike was hard!  I focused on just keeping a fast cadence and belly breathing.  I entered Zone 8 and began picking up the 40 pound ball and hoisting it over the 4 1/2 foot wall.  I felt like I was in slow motion. Would 20 reps ever get here?  After what seemed like an eternity, they did.  

Just 2 more runs and 2 more zones I told myself, as I struggled to maintain a "fast for me" pace.  Fortunately there were many "carrots" out on the course for me to try and chase down.  They may have not been in my age group nor my start wave, but I was treating each one as if I was in direct competition with them.

Zone 9 was the tank push/pull.  This was also a resistance machine, meaning that the faster you tried to move it, the harder it got.  I found my sweet spot and just kept the feet moving.  I was so thankful for the volunteer who kept up with my laps; I was no longer mental math capable.

The last run, I was on autopilot.  Running on fumes, I managed to stumble into Zone1, the reverse lunge station, and picked up the RAM to start doing burpees, when the volunteer told me I was in the wrong zone.  HaHa!  I was so fried!  I managed to find my way over to Zone 10 and picking up the 22 pound RAM, which felt like 44 pounds, started to execute 20 burpees.  The fatigue monster was upon me ... so hard to push off the RAM and then get my hips under me so that I could lift this cylindrical weight above my head.

Fortunately the finish line was 5 meters away and I crossed it in 45:45, good enough for second AG and 15th O/A.  I was only 30 seconds off of 1st place.  My 5k running time (10 x 500 meters) was 26:08, fastest in my age group.  I lost all my time in the zones.  But with more practice and more strength, I can better my zone times and hopefully maintain that 5k pace.

Sign me up for the next one, I am hooked!

Zone 1: 1:08 (those 2 extra cost me)       

Zone 2:  2:36 (gotta get stronger)

Zone 3:  0:57 (gotta improve technique)

Zone 4:  1:14 (good enough)

Zone 5:  2:38 (good time and a good place to rest some)

Zone 6:  0:59 (good enough)

Zone 7:  3:28 (pitiful!)

Zone 8:  1:32 (gotta get stronger)

Zone 9:  3:05 (I'll take it)

Zone 10:  1:56 (work on that muscular endurance, you maggot!)

The Snake Creek Gap TT - 34 Mile

In its typical fashion, the February edition was brutally cold and sloppy.  Heavy rains in the week leading up to race day made me change my mind from resting and attempting a fast time to continuing a build week and treating the race as another day of training.  I knew I would be tired, but my goal was to stay warm and have a healthy mix of type 1 and 2 fun.

I wore ALL the layers for the 21 degree start, including my finger/hand saving SealSkinz electric gloves.  Although bulky, they kept my hands happy for the first half; I switched to HandUp Colder gloves and chemical inserts for the second half.  Although shifting/braking wasn't an issue with the SealSkinz, they were too bulky to pull nutrition out of my pockets, so I opted just to shotgun two gels at the start and rely on Skratch hydration for calories and fluids.  

The 2 mile gravel road lead-in to the climb was full of huge mud-holes, most of which had no ride arounds.  I managed to stay dry by tip-toeing around or riding slowly along the edge.  It probably cost me a few minutes, but I was happily warm and dry. Fortunately the 2 added sections of the temporary Dry Creek bridge made for a dry crossing; that was probably the most swollen I have seen Dry Creek.

Climbing up John's Mountain double track and on to the single track, I could feel the past week's strength training ... ouch.  Granny gear kept my legs' whining to a minimum. Fortunately most of this section was frozen. After crossing pocket road, the mud games began.  Pretty much, after the short initial climb, the next 2 miles were under water.  And I managed to submerge my left foot in the creek crossing. 

The Horn Mountain climb felt a mile longer; what a grind!  My derailleur froze, but luckily I had the three easiest gears to use.  Lord, those 3 kickers to the tippy top hurt!  I sailed down into the Snake Creek Gap parking lot and took my time swapping out gloves, sucking down 2 more gels, and ditching my CamelBak for a bottle.

The sun was out and the temps had risen into the 30's.  I never knew the 30's could feel so warm.  I ground my way up the Mill Creek climb and enjoyed the ridge riding.  It was finally warm enough that I tempted fate and used my dropper for the first time on the Swamp Creek descent.  Past memories of dropper issues in sub-freezing temperatures led me to stiff post the first 17.  It worked and popped back up when I asked ... whew! 

The creek crossings were super deep, but I was glad to have reconned them last month.  Knowing the smoothest and shallowest lines kept me from submerging my feet, again. The climb up to the final section of single track was not as bad as I expected. 

The final 8 miles of trail was its usual brutal self:  my favorite part!  Although slow going, I was in my happy place rock-crawling through the gardens.  I believe the rocks (and roots) are growing!  On the final tricky climb in the last half-mile or so, I was at the top when I ran out of gas and could not push over the final pedal stroke.  I tried to unclip, couldn't, and ended up going down off the trail a few feet.  Turtling around in the rocks, with my bike on top of me, it took me a few seconds to free my foot from the pedal.

Fortunately my bike never hit the ground; I took the full force of the impact.  Both the bike and my body were ok; just a bruised ego. I was able to recover enough to clean the "gunsight pass" section and then cruise down to the finish.

I finished in 4:46:08.  My second slowest time, but I did not mind.  I achieved my goals today: finishing with a smile.  And with fingers crossed that March will be its typical self:  warm and fast!

That smile is genuine! Is Ray checking for a motor?

Reflection

Tomorrow I will be racing The Snake Creek Gap Time Trials for the 19th year in a row.  I really have raced it close to 50 times as there have been anywhere from 2 to 5 opportunities each year to set your best time. 

I remember the first year, 2005.  I can't put a finger on how I found out about this race. Up until this point, I had only been on tame lap courses, racing cross country.  The Snake was where I first cut my teeth on rocky terrain. I was on my aluminum Specialized S-Works Epic, with 26" wheels, rim brakes, triple chainring, a squiggly SID fork, and a stiff post.  

The course was run in the opposite direction, starting at the gravel road on top on Dug Gap.  I was redlined from the git go.  I rode down "The Wall" white knuckling my skinny bar, pulling on the brake levers with all I had, belly on the saddle.  The finish was not at Dry Creek parking lot (it did not exist then), but where the Pinhoti crossed East Armuchee Road. Bodies piled up in the ditch along the road as we waited for enough of us to collect and be shuttled back in volunteers' pickup trucks.  I can still remember lying flat on my back looking at the blue sky, heart pumping and lungs gasping, trying to bring life back into my thrashed body.  My first coherent thoughts were A) that was F'ing hard! and B) sign me up for next month.

Even though the trail has remained virtually unchanged since then, each year has its own character.  Be it the weather, where I am on this journey of life, or what bike I am riding, this course is brutal and indifferent to you.  While we are timed against others, the true race is against the trail and our own inner demons.

Like February 2013, where there was no bridge at Dry Creek and it was thigh deep and 22 degrees. Somehow I managed to keep my legs dry with large animal OB sleeves.

February 2020 was the closest I came to ever having a DNF at this race.  I was so cold and so miserable at the 1/2 way point, I came up with half a dozen excuses to pull the plug.  But fortunately my good friend Dave was there, racing alongside and helped get my mind right.  Besides the conditions of the roads out of there looked a whole lot worse than just trudging on through the trail.

January 2008 I almost didn't even make it to the start.  I was on "that bus."  As I was riding the school bus over to the start, the driver got behind this slow poke Subaru on the descent off Dug Gap.  She lost air pressure to the brakes, almost plowed over the Subaru, but managed to save it by passing the Subaru on a blind curve.  We were all so fortunate no one was coming up the mountain as well as the drivers' mad skills.

March 2010 was my third fastest time, on a single speed, 3:27.  My second fastest time was March 2009, on my 26" Stumpjumper.  3:26, and just 13 minutes behind Willow Koerber.  March 2014 was my fastest time on my Niner Jet 9, 3:21.

I am not sure why the memories have flooded my thoughts, so much this year in particular. Perhaps it is because I have recently turned 27 for the 27th time.  And have been thinking about my own mortality ... alot. As I have gotten older, the days of the butterflies and the nervous poops are mostly gone.  But I still look forward to putting on that number and tackling the challenges that race day brings.  I feel grateful that I still have these opportunities to play bikes and push my limits.

So as long as the good folks of Northwest Georgia SORBA put on this race, and I am amongst the living, you will see me toeing the line.  This is one tradition I cannot break.