Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
I'm putting the final nail in the coffin a 12 hour solo TR
It only hurts when I sit down. Was the phrase silk screened on the water bottles in the swag bag.
Me, having never ridden the trail before had to inquire some trail beta at during the riders meeting.
length:5.5 miles, 5miles of single track.
Climbing: Not much
Tech: Very. Lots of roots. Tight and Twisty.
The race for the solo riders starts at 12:01 pm. And we were off, fast. I wanted to get out front on the 1st lap so I could find my way through the twisted mess of roots and rocks without having follow anyone.
The Start:
The Hole Shot:
For the first quarter for the race, I only dismounted twice to swap out bikes and get fresh bottles and a refill on my gels. My legs are feeling ok at this point, but i wish the course had some were I could open it up at and flush the lactic acids from my quads.
After 5 hours on the bike, I needed a break. Just as I sit down, 2nd place roles by and goes out for another lap. Shit. I dump 8 oz's of coke into a water bottle grab a dark molasses cookie, mount up. I'm off, cookie in hand I pass the rider to get back 1st place. I stayed out for a 4 more laps before coming in again and forceing my self to sit down for a solid 15 minutes.
Lap??: I think 5.5 hours in to it.
I hear the announcer call out the time 5:59:59 all 6 hour riders are done. I think to my self and think it was out loud. "Why the fuck am I racing for 12 hours. I should have done the 6". Several minutes later I smash into tree. As I come by I check the the lap count sheet, I beat all the 6 hour teams and solo racers by over a lap.
After 6 hours my legs feel like hell. I start dropping sport legs in a last ditch attempt to get the my legs to refresh for the second half of the race. I try to settle in to a pace but my legs are killing me. After each lap I stop and sit down for mintue. At this point, I am also sucking down gels and coke like it's going of style. I'm fading. It's getting cold out. I want to quit.
7 hours in:
For the next hour and a half I just keeping telling my self I need to stay on the bike. I need to keep rolling. On last bike change for night, I hop off my suspended rig and grab the ridged so my crew can get my lights ready. I tell my crew I want to quit. They hand me my bottles and bike. I get back on.
My legs are feeling better at this point, the cooler temperatures giving them a new lease on life for a few hours.
Time for the lights, 8:45pm.
As the darkness sweeps through the woods and chases the remaining sun light away. The woods begins to glow from the HID's and you can see red lights dancing through the trees.
I hit the trail, with only one light burning as I get deeper in to the woods I reach up to turn on my 2nd light. Click, Click. Nothing. FUCK. ClIIIIIIIIIICK. FUCK. CLICK CLICK. Shit. I keep rolling and swing back in to the pits to have my light checked out. Click Click. It fires right up. WTF.
Before I head back out, I grab another cookie, a 8oz bottle of coke and some sustained energy drink. My legs feeling good my new plan is to stay on the bike for the rest of the night. Only stopping once on the trail to piss.
As the laps and hours roll by I keep on spinning though the blackness.
I touch my ribs, the skin is sore. My kindness, they hurt. 2 of my toes on my left foot are numb. My elbows hurt. My shoulders are numb to.
As I roll into the my last hour, I realize that I have not seen 2nd place in a few hours. A sense of urgency floods over me and a rider closes in from behind, I have no clue who it is... I speed up not wanting them to catch me. As I pass back by I try to read the number plate. I missed it. In a last ditch effort, I stand up out of every corner and sprint. I'm full of emotions and running on empty at this point.
I wanted to quit, 11:35 pm. The 2nd place rider has not checked in for a lap in over an hour. I ride back down the pit. Looking for someone to pace me for one last lap. I'm beat, but I need one more lap. I roll up to the check in and stop. 272 heading back out. I muttered, I'm putting the final nail in the coffin.
The sense of urgency is gone. I'm freezing. I walk every climb. I'm alone.
12:06 am I cross the finish line. I'm done. I turn off my lights and head back to the pit.
I racked out 26 laps. 145 miles just shy of 12 mph avg.
1st Single Speed Mens Open/Solo
3rd Over All.
I beat 2nd place by 4 laps and 22 minutes he had quit around 10:30, only to check back in at 11:45 to head back out for one last lap.
Me, having never ridden the trail before had to inquire some trail beta at during the riders meeting.
length:5.5 miles, 5miles of single track.
Climbing: Not much
Tech: Very. Lots of roots. Tight and Twisty.
The race for the solo riders starts at 12:01 pm. And we were off, fast. I wanted to get out front on the 1st lap so I could find my way through the twisted mess of roots and rocks without having follow anyone.
The Start:
The Hole Shot:
For the first quarter for the race, I only dismounted twice to swap out bikes and get fresh bottles and a refill on my gels. My legs are feeling ok at this point, but i wish the course had some were I could open it up at and flush the lactic acids from my quads.
After 5 hours on the bike, I needed a break. Just as I sit down, 2nd place roles by and goes out for another lap. Shit. I dump 8 oz's of coke into a water bottle grab a dark molasses cookie, mount up. I'm off, cookie in hand I pass the rider to get back 1st place. I stayed out for a 4 more laps before coming in again and forceing my self to sit down for a solid 15 minutes.
Lap??: I think 5.5 hours in to it.
I hear the announcer call out the time 5:59:59 all 6 hour riders are done. I think to my self and think it was out loud. "Why the fuck am I racing for 12 hours. I should have done the 6". Several minutes later I smash into tree. As I come by I check the the lap count sheet, I beat all the 6 hour teams and solo racers by over a lap.
After 6 hours my legs feel like hell. I start dropping sport legs in a last ditch attempt to get the my legs to refresh for the second half of the race. I try to settle in to a pace but my legs are killing me. After each lap I stop and sit down for mintue. At this point, I am also sucking down gels and coke like it's going of style. I'm fading. It's getting cold out. I want to quit.
7 hours in:
For the next hour and a half I just keeping telling my self I need to stay on the bike. I need to keep rolling. On last bike change for night, I hop off my suspended rig and grab the ridged so my crew can get my lights ready. I tell my crew I want to quit. They hand me my bottles and bike. I get back on.
My legs are feeling better at this point, the cooler temperatures giving them a new lease on life for a few hours.
Time for the lights, 8:45pm.
As the darkness sweeps through the woods and chases the remaining sun light away. The woods begins to glow from the HID's and you can see red lights dancing through the trees.
I hit the trail, with only one light burning as I get deeper in to the woods I reach up to turn on my 2nd light. Click, Click. Nothing. FUCK. ClIIIIIIIIIICK. FUCK. CLICK CLICK. Shit. I keep rolling and swing back in to the pits to have my light checked out. Click Click. It fires right up. WTF.
Before I head back out, I grab another cookie, a 8oz bottle of coke and some sustained energy drink. My legs feeling good my new plan is to stay on the bike for the rest of the night. Only stopping once on the trail to piss.
As the laps and hours roll by I keep on spinning though the blackness.
I touch my ribs, the skin is sore. My kindness, they hurt. 2 of my toes on my left foot are numb. My elbows hurt. My shoulders are numb to.
As I roll into the my last hour, I realize that I have not seen 2nd place in a few hours. A sense of urgency floods over me and a rider closes in from behind, I have no clue who it is... I speed up not wanting them to catch me. As I pass back by I try to read the number plate. I missed it. In a last ditch effort, I stand up out of every corner and sprint. I'm full of emotions and running on empty at this point.
I wanted to quit, 11:35 pm. The 2nd place rider has not checked in for a lap in over an hour. I ride back down the pit. Looking for someone to pace me for one last lap. I'm beat, but I need one more lap. I roll up to the check in and stop. 272 heading back out. I muttered, I'm putting the final nail in the coffin.
The sense of urgency is gone. I'm freezing. I walk every climb. I'm alone.
12:06 am I cross the finish line. I'm done. I turn off my lights and head back to the pit.
I racked out 26 laps. 145 miles just shy of 12 mph avg.
1st Single Speed Mens Open/Solo
3rd Over All.
I beat 2nd place by 4 laps and 22 minutes he had quit around 10:30, only to check back in at 11:45 to head back out for one last lap.
Monday, July 09, 2007
My god was it hot out.
Saturday I was out in the sun all day at Waterford Hill for the AMA Supermoto race.
Sunday I was on my bike for 3 hours with Paula. We did a lap of PLRA and then 20 or miles of back roads. The original plan was to ride 2 laps at PLRA then some where around 45 miles of back roads. Yeah, it pretty much sucked so we cut the ride short and headed to lake to cool down and clean up.
It's hot out side today too.
Saturday I was out in the sun all day at Waterford Hill for the AMA Supermoto race.
Sunday I was on my bike for 3 hours with Paula. We did a lap of PLRA and then 20 or miles of back roads. The original plan was to ride 2 laps at PLRA then some where around 45 miles of back roads. Yeah, it pretty much sucked so we cut the ride short and headed to lake to cool down and clean up.
It's hot out side today too.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Money.
Money. It comes. It goes.
But I have a warped sense of what is cheap. I'm not sure if it is related to the sports I do or something else, but I'm backasswards. I think. Maybe its the fact that all the thinks I do these days do cost so much money. Or maybe I don't like having to buy things twice.
I'll drop a couple of hundred dollars on bike parts, skis or fly fishing stuff with out a thought. But anything else I haggle over, clothes, shoes.
Cheap toys for me are under 100$.
What is normal?
Money. It comes. It goes.
But I have a warped sense of what is cheap. I'm not sure if it is related to the sports I do or something else, but I'm backasswards. I think. Maybe its the fact that all the thinks I do these days do cost so much money. Or maybe I don't like having to buy things twice.
I'll drop a couple of hundred dollars on bike parts, skis or fly fishing stuff with out a thought. But anything else I haggle over, clothes, shoes.
Cheap toys for me are under 100$.
What is normal?
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