Why Mountain Bikers Should Stay on Dirt and in the Woods

So I went to ride in the local crit series to try to enhance my mountain bike training. Anybody that's spent any time around bike racing knows that are only 2 types of criterium racers. Those who have crashed, and those who will crash soon. They're a full on violent assault on the heart rate anywhere from 20 min to an hour depending on what class you race. Literally, if you don't spend much of the crit in your red zone, you'll get dropped. I.e., great training for mtb racing. It's like group intensity work, or so that's how I looked at it.

Well, as it turns out the last crit of the series we had like 6 of the guys from the MTB team show. So...all hyped up with adrenaline, endorphines, testosterone, and whatever other performance and mood enhancing naturally occuring drugs we had running through our veins we decided to try some group tactics. Realistically, Clayton or Wes Pruitt would have good shots at a win, if not several primes. I was pretty pumped just to be able to call myself a cool word -- Domestique...Admit it, it has a cool ring...

So the strategy was basically every lap or two one of us would attack the field. People would have to respond because even though the other of us (non Clayton & Wes's) weren't the favorites, we still were capable of competing. So one of us would attack causing several of the other strong riders to chase. Then as other strong riders would go to the front of the main group, we'd go to the front, control the pace at a slow enough cadence that it would take more attacks to real in the break away. Essentially we wanted to wear down the fastest guys. Clayton and I actually worked this well the week before and he won several primes with me controlling the pack while he broke away for the goods.

Anyway...About 15 minutes into our race, it was my turn to attack. I started to make my way to the front of the group. Right after we made a lap at the finish line there's a fairly sharp right hand turn. I don't know what happened. I just know my front wheel went airborn and then I was sliding across the pavement. It hurt sooo bad. Jeeze. It happened so fast. I don't know if I hit a rock, road paint, just slid out my front wheel, what. I just know my ass was sliding at 25+ mph on asphalt before I even knew what was going on. I lost a lot of hide on one spot on the back of my arm and on my hip. Several weeks of healing required.
Moral of the story: even when I "think" I know what I'm doing on a road bike, I don't. Stick to mountain bikes. The crashes are much lower speed, and typically are avoidable, unlike this beauty.

The Chief Got His Again...

So I'm quickly learning that Syllamo's Revenge is the most aptly named mountain bike race ever. As if 50 miles of Ozark mountain biking wasn't difficult enough on it's own, the Revenge seems to have it's own sadistic twist each year. Well, this year Chief Syllamo certainly had a bone to pick and he got his. Between the tornado's of Spring 2008, ice storms of January 2009, and 10 inches of race week rain, the conditions were as brutal as can be imagined.

All that said, I finished, and arguably finished fairly well, so did the Chief get his revenge on Big Head? Or did I finally foil the 19th century Creek Indian Chief? Let's take a brief recap of Saturday's suffering:

Maddie & I drove up with Ellie (new Comfort Retriever puppy) Friday to camp. Blanchard Springs was full, so we went to Gunner Pool. Fantastic camp ground! You gotta see this place, it is gorgeous...

After a surprisingly restful night Friday considering I weathered 2 inches of rain, thunderstorms, and high wind in a tent with my 5 year old and a puppy, I woke up Saturday with the usual race-day enthusiasm and excitement. I got to Blanchard and met the wife who took over kid & puppy duties so I could warm up. I decided to warmup with a brief stretch then a hard climb up that mile-long 8+% fireroad climb that starts the race. It was muddy & loose. A precursor of the day.

At the start I worked fairly hard to get into the top 50 up the climb and into the woods, but tried to keep it reasonable. This was the first marathon race where I made a conscious effort to go hard out of the gate. I liked it and sort of wish I would have gone a tad harder. Within 3 miles of singletrack it got wet, sloppy, and nasty and I was stuck behind a train of roadies who could climb that first hill like scalded dogs, but honestly had not business riding Syllamo even in good conditions. I spend a good hour working my way around 2 dozen or so of these guys. Tally: Chief Syllamo 1, Todd 0.

That first section of Jack's Branch trail was indicative of the damage done this year by the ice. There was down lumber, face slappers, and huge mine-holes left by the evacuated root balls of old growth hard wood toppling over. It seems like you'd ride 3-4 minutes, then slam on brakes and scurry over or around an obstacle. That being said, all racers had to ride the course, so I don't feel this was a huge disadvantage to me and I feel like I managed it well. We'll call it a draw. Tally: Chief Syllamo 2, Todd 1.

I rolled into the first aid station 20 minutes after expected and was covered in mud, but otherwise unscathed. I slowed down just long enough to jettison my camelback, and put on a new one handed to me by my lovely wife Amanda. Man she's the bomb...

I rolled onto the green trail feeling great. I spun slowly up that first climb so I could eat a little something, then rolled back into race pace. I chatted with a few guys who clearly were suffering worse than me. I started to have good feelings. The mental state is as important as physical in this thing. I gotta take a point here. Tally: Chief Syllamo 2, Todd 2.

Up at the top of the green trail in the midst of the big rocky tech stuff, my fork decided not to move any more. This is bad. I have at least 30 miles of this think left. I just had it rebuilt recently. Must have already blown those new seals, now it's running dry as a bone and not moving. Ouch, this will hurt. As I rolled out of the green trail and into the big orange downhill, "The Polish Dozer", it did hurt. Man, I tried to bomb that downhill like I always would so I wouldn't lose any time and by the time I got to the bottom I was exhausted. What a drain on the core and upper body without a working fork! I could really feel the fatigue as I struggle through the lower end of the orange and blue trails. I was having a hard time keeping a good pace and good cadence. I crossed the very cold and swift Livingston Creek and into aid station #2. There I swapped camelbacks again, and Greg Jeffers helped me lube my chain. I needed a break and was using any opportunity to rest. Tally: Chief Syllamo 3, Todd 2.

Now comes my least favorite part of the race...the section of blue trail east of Hwy 5. That trail is already in my head. Throw in the additional fatigue, anxiety of my bike not working right, and the conditions, and I was having serious doubts as to whether I could even finish the race. I certainly wasn't thinking about my performance. The Chief was playing mind games with me. This was so bad, and I was so discouraged, I have to give him 2 points here. Tally: Chief Syllamo 5, Todd 2.

Crossing Hwy 5 again helped out mentally somewhat because I knew that if I just got up the big blue trail climb, the worst of the race would be behind me. That, of course, is easier said than done. I was beat. But I persevered on this one. I was able to talk myself into a better mental state, and I climbed sections of trail so steep I've only walked them before. Tally: Chief 5, Todd 3.

After finally making it up the blue, I now had that 3 miles or so of Jack's Branch (yellow) to get to aid station 3. I started to get some pain in my right knee, but was able to find a new position to keep it from hurting so much. I got into the aid station, and Greg & Carol Jeffers passed me a new bottle, took the weight of the camelback off me, and told me I was #39. #39! Are your frickin' kidding me? That's actually a good place. I felt like I should have been competing for DFL, how am I Top 50? For the first time it occurred to me that maybe the conditions were hard on everyone. This put me in a new good mental state. Tally: Chief 5, Todd 4.

I rolled onto the 14 miles of red trail and it felt like 80. It would never end. This time, the fatigue was real. This wasn't a perceived mental state. My legs were out of gas and my wrists, arms & upper body were sore from the rigid fork. The only thing that kept me going hard was I kept hearing a bike behind me and I made a deal with myself that I would NOT let anyone pass me on this trail. I was actually able to pass a few guys on this one myself. Towards the end of it, however, some dude was breathing down my neck. He finally passed me on the big downhill going back into Blanchard. I was doing about 35 over incredibly loose & muddy terrain - I could barely see because of all the mud and grit flying in my face - and he passed me doing at least 10 mph faster.

Once I finally rolled in, I my time was 6:42 - 10 min slower than last year. However, I was 35th place compared to 53 last year. So statistically I improved. However, I was still disappointed. Everyone kept telling me I was crazy to be disappointed, but I still was and still am. I know I just didn't have my best legs. Yeah, I had a top 10% finish. Yeah, I improved. (Not sure where I was in my age group.) But I still know I was pedaling slower than I should have had to at some points. I know the conditions played a part, but I think I left as much as 30 minutes out there that I should have been able to crank out. Oh well, there's always next year.

For the final tally, let's do some bonus points: Riding without any mechanicals, flats, etc: Todd +1. Winning the mental game, making me believe I was defeated for most of the last 30 miles: Chief +1. Breaking my fork and wearing me down: Chief +1. Riding with a broken fork: Todd +1.

Final Tally: Chief 7, Todd 6. He got his revenge, but not by much. And as with each race, I've learned a lot and will be better prepared next year. I still had a blast, what a great race!

Ouachita Challenge Update

Well, it's been almost a week since the race. I suppose it's time to post my race report...

I rolled into Oden Saturday afternoon in time to see many of the Tour finishers coming through. It really was cool to see the look of joy, relief, satisfaction, and of course pain, on the faces of the finishers. I suspect that for many of them, this was their first time finishing the Big Ride. I have to give a shout out to our teammate Brad Curtis. Nobody on the team has worked so hard as him. And this year he finished the 60. Finishing that thing is such an accomplishment. Those that don't ride, or just ride road or groomed trail really don't have an appreciation of how difficult it is to do 63 miles in this part of the country. It's physically & mentally draining. There are several stretches in the Ouachita Trail segments where you can never get into a rhythm because of the jagged Martian surface rocks you're riding on. It seems like there's no way to keep momentum. It's cool to see those folks accomplish this. Two years ago I finished it for the first time. Since then I've been on a never ending quest to improve my performance each subsequent marathon event I do. For the most part I've been successful. But I digress...

Anyway...back to Oden...Got there in time to see Brad roll across. High 5's, pats on the back, gave him a little knuckle, then it was time to join in the spaghetti chow fest in the cafeteria. Ahh...cafeteria food. That brings back memories as well. After dinner I had planned on just sleeping on an air mattress in the back of the Suburban in the school parking lot that night. I was talking to Richard & Lee Bell--the best team owner/sponsor/captains ever--and they would have none of it. They had an extra bed in the cabin they rented and insisted I use it. Sa-weet! The good night sleep I would have in the cabin would pay dividends the next day fo sho.

I woke up the next morning feeling pretty fresh. I had a few butterflies in my stomach, but they were the good kind. They were there because I was itchin' to ride! I ate my breakfast of a banana, yogurt, LaraBar, and handful of Fig Newtons and was rolling back to Oden. I've gotten where my pre-race routine is less and less regimented for these marathon races. I barely even stretch now, much less do a real warm-up or time my nutritional intakes. I don't know if it's good or bad. But I think it is psychologically good because I stay more relaxed. And for a race like the OC with such a long road lead-out, it has a built in warm-up I guess.

My biggest concern was actually the weather. I got to Oden and it was drizzling rain and in the 50's. This is a tough temperature for me to dress for. Not quite cold enough for a jacket, but a little chillier than I like with just arm warmers or long sleeve jersey. I finally settled on my short sleeve jersey, arm warmers, and windproof vest. Lot's of options in that wardrobe for adding & removing layers.

Now it's race time! In years' past I've been real good about lining up in the front quarter or so of the mass pack for the start. Didn't happen this year. I got stuck a little more than halfway in the rear of the 375 or so combined riders. This was partially because they started us in a different spot, partially because I had my head up my ass not paying attention. Luckily, this was probably the biggest mistake I'd make all day. (A little foreshadowing there.)

Let me refer to previous posts on this blog and statements I've made to numerous people about my strategy. In years past, even a month ago at the 6 hr race, I let adrenaline get the better of me and I start too fast. Remember, this is not an XC race. This is an all day affair. Conservation and distance or the words to remember. Well...I did it again. I give up. Once that gun goes off I have horrid nightmares of being stuck behind a gajillion slow pokes in the single track. That was compounded by my poor starting position in the back of the pack. So once we were underway, I found myself rapidly trying to work my way up through to the front of the pack. To make matters worse, within a mile or two, the group broke into 2 pelotons. The front one, appeared to be about 75 riders strong. I was too deep in the second peloton to jump in with the A-group until they had a sizable gap. I badly wanted in that group. I figured that would buy my 5 easy minutes by just squeezing in the middle of that big mass of riders and riding the draft. So I kept pushing until finally I was at the head of the "B peloton". Then I decided I needed to bridge that gap, which by then was about 200 yds. What was I thinking? Wasn't going to happen. I worked my ass off for about 2 miles out in no-mans-land and finally reallized I could not ride solo across that gap. So now, instead of sitting in the B-group conserving energy, I was in no-mans-land working alone. Sheesh...

Finally we jumped onto this notorious dirtroad climb they said would separate the mass group before we hit single track. They were right. Suddenly I was instantly thrust back into the rear side of the A-group as they strung out for what seemed like miles on this rock, unstable, loose climb. This was a brilliant idea by the promoters. I hope they do it again. It adds more climbing to the course, but served the purpose well! My legs were feeling light and springy. Zane and Curtis jumped back on with me. We were keeping each other "sensible" by not pushing too hard up the climb. But I know we were all feeling good because it felt like we passed 50 people on that climb.

Once we finally ducked into the Womble, I was having a blast. The weather was improving with the sun coming out, my legs felt good, I was riding smooth, the trail was great. What a fun day! The first 5 miles or so of the Womble we were flying! Finally I had to holler up to Zane to slow the pace some. He said he was feeling it today. I reminded him that the race really doesn't even start until the first 25 miles and the Womble are behind us. He agreed and we dialed it down a half notch.

Coming down the East side of Mauldin Mountain, on the benchcut stuff with the big drop to the left, we come on this dude that was like 200 feet down the ravine with his bike. I stopped briefly and yelled to see if he was ok. He said he was cool so we kept rolling. Jeeze...if he went down with his bike, he was like another 20 feet from the cliff side...

We rolled into aid station #1 in good time. I debated not stopping, then opted to swing in and top off the camelback and my bottle. I opened them both and had barely touched either. It dawned on me I better start drinking!

I hit the road again and immediately hooked up with 3-4 guys and we decided to work together to cut the 20 mph winds. Then we picked Zane back up and also grabbed Robert Newcome. We kept this group together until the start of the Ouachita Trail at the Chalybeate Mtn base, and most of us hit the mountain together. Zane and I were riding the perfect pace for each other so far in the race. It's nice to have someone else that is riding your speed. I topped Chalybeate pretty smoothly cleaning everything and riding through stuff other guys were crashing on. However, I now could feel in my legs that they had worked. I decided to take some Endurolyte tabs to fend off the cramps.

Once we got to the next aid station, I took some fluids, ate some oranges, and then headed up Blowout Mountain. My nemesis. I was determined it wouldn't beat me this time. Whether it won or I did is up for debate still. I cleaned stuff I never cleaned on it before. I pretty much road everything that was not boulder covered. Even the long sustained climb to the peak I stayed on the bike. This made me feel good. The downside--I was anaerobic by the time it was finished.

On the way down Blowout I lost Zane. I think he was cramping up. I recovered some on the short flat roll-in to the last aid station. There, I cut up to Chuck Emmons. Now I was really pumped! Chuck is way faster than me usually. He's a bachelor and rides a lot! It was at this point that I first let the thought enter my head that I was having a good day and that a 6 hr time was actually within reach! Chuck and I rolled out and decided we'd try to pace each other the last 15 miles or so over Big Brushy Mtn and down the last road stretch to the finish. I hung with him for 2/3 of the way up Brushy. Then I was cooked. My legs were cramping, everything started to hurt. That was ok though. I just kept telling myself, drag yourself over this mountain, get on the road, and time trial it out to the finish. Unfortunately, I found my pain cave and couldn't get out. I lost a lot of time on Brushy. By the time I rolled off of it, Chuck probably had gapped me by 2 minutes. No worries though. I'm home free!

After time trialling with every last ounce of energy in my body I rolled in just over 6 hours. I think my official time was 6:08. My computer said 6:04. But who cares, either way I didn't break 6 hrs. But I'm not disappointed, that still was a fabulous time for me. Harder course this year, more climbing, and no recovering on the roads with the wind. I got 35th overall. I'm where I need to be in preparation for Syllamo's revenge. I think (hope) 5:30 is possible at Syllamo.

Not so good...

So the official Spa City 6 Hr results are up on the website now. There apparently have been some corrections in results compared to what I saw posted on Saturday. It would appear that I actually was 29th overall, and 9 out of 13 in my age class. I don't feel so good about those results now. The logical side of my brain keeps telling me that the overall competition was better this year (it was), that my time was still pretty good (I guess so) and that I've made big improvements (sure). But I rarely listen to that side of my brain. All I hear is 9 out of 13...

Spa City 6 Hr

So here's the race report: 6 laps, 61.5 miles, 6:10:57, 25th overall, 6th in my age class. I thought I'd get the punchline out there for those of you who may not want to read the rest of this.

Great race today. This was undoubtedly the toughest competition of any race I've been in. John "Fuzzy" Mylne, single speed legend and SoCal pro ended up winning the day. There were also a few other Men's Pro's including Ernesto from Speedgoat. But the real star on hand was none other than Endurance Racing legend, and 2-time reigning 24 Hr Solo WORLD Champion, Rebecca Rusch. There were a few other high-end pro women, but I can't remember their names. After an incredibly chaotic LeMans start of about 150-200 yds, it was time to mount our steeds and get underway. Here are the stages of my day:
Pre-Race: I felt real good. The weather was phenomenal. I didn't do much of a warm-up because the plan was to start slow and finish fast. That never happens. I don't know why I lie to myself.
Lap 1: I was rolling with a pretty fast group. I should have held back, but I wanted to hang with that group so I wouldn't get clogged up in the slower traffic. Not to mention I was so stoked to be racing again, and my adrenaline was pumping. I rolled out with my small camelback in lieu of bottles. It holds about 2 bottles worth of fluid. ~ 40 oz. This worked on this lap. The little voice inside my head kept telling me "eat, conserve, drink". I mostly ignored the voice on this lap. I finished this lap right around 53 minutes. Too frickin fast for an endurance race, this ain't XC today! I realize this, make a mental note to pace.
Lap 2: Leaving the pits, I'm rolling next to my man, Bob Ocken. He suggests we pace each other. Good idea. I agree. That worked for 3-4 miles until I slightly clipped a tree and moved my left bar-end to a really uncomfortable spot. I stopped to fix it, Bob left me. It's all good though, that is maybe the best way to find out I need to make a repair. I still feel ok on this lap. I end up hanging with this cool guy from Oklahoma. I drained the camelback on this lap and decided to drop it in the pits and go bottles, so I snagged a bottle, rolled through the timer at 1:53. 1 hr laps are what I need.
Lap 3: I lose the guy from Tulsa and end up sticking to the wheel of this dude from Competitive Cyclist. Can't remember his name, but I've seen him in the shop. He's going slower than I want uphill, which I decide is a good thing, so I don't pass him. He was riding a ballin' Turner Flux and he was butter through technical sections and downhill. He was a good leadout guy. I'm starting to feel the fatigue on this lap. I finish at 2:53, the 1 hr plan is working for me.
Lap 4: I swap bottles in the pits and roll out. I go 3-4 miles and it hit me. The dreaded bonk. I got this feeling of, Oh Shit, not this early. How could I bonk this early? I've been training! I don't want my race to be screwed up. So I ate a little something, chugged some Accelerade, and rolled easy. As I came through the section we call the "Big Ring Section" because it's smooth, fast, straight and generally you're in tall gears, I had to leave it in the middle chainring. I started feeling better on the decent. About mile 35 I hear several switchbacks behind me, "Leader through". Right then I was thinking, damn, I know I'm going to get lapped, but I don't want to get lapped this early. So I laid the hammer down thinking, Maybe I can hold them off until lap 5. Why did I do that? Wasted energy and what's it matter? It's a guy thing. At about mile 37 Fuzzy, Jesus Martinez, some pro from Florida, and Ernesto all lapped me. They were railing. I finished this lap at 4:10. 1 hr 17 minutes is not good. If that continues to digress, I won't hit my 6 lap goal.
Lap 5: After taking 3-4 minutes in the pits to stretch and eat, I roll out feeling great! As bad as I felt the previous lap, I was fresh on this one. I have no idea why. You'd think I was on the juice the way that second wind kicked in. I didn't ask questions I just rolled with it. Good lap all around. I even rode the "Big Ring Section" in my big chainring - small mental victory. I rolled around at 5:07. I actually had my second fastest lap, 5 hours into the race. I'm psyched. I have 1:23 to finish my last lap. No worries, all I have to do is not crash.
Lap 6: I'm hurtin, I'm dying. I started counting miles, then tenths of miles, then just had to turn the display on the computer off because it was driving me crazy how slow they were rolling. My legs hurt, I had no lungs, my feet hurt, back, you name it. But there was no reason to leave any in the tank. I finished up at 6:10. Rebecca Rusch was breathing down my neck trying to lap me. She finished her seventh lap several seconds after I finished my 6th. I got beat by a girl, but at least not lapped. As she crossed the finish line I heard her tell Clayton, who finished just ahead of her, "you almost got chicked." Last lap was close to an hour. Good time.

Overall I'm pleased with my effort. 10 mph average, or thereabouts. 6+ hrs in the saddle. I never used my granny gear. I can't be dissapointed. Sure, I would have liked to been faster, but this was good for me. I got beat by 3 girls, some older than me and in their 40's, but they were all pro and bad ass. I got beat by 24 men, several were pro. This was a really good Syllamo's Revenge trainer. I now know where my fitness and training are, and where I need to be. I'm not in a bad place at all. I could use some more long base rides, and as usual, could use some hill work.

Put Yo Game Face On!

Tomorrow is race day! I'm so stoked. It seems like it has been years since a race. The Spa City Six Hour is a fantastic first race of the year. Fun format, great trail, relaxed atmosphere. There will be super tough competition there so you can get serious if you want, or you can stop between laps and drink a beer. Me? I'm going to first and foremost have fun. Remind me of this tomorrow when I'm getting super anal about my pre-race routine...Seriously, I'm going to treat this like a good training ride. 6+ hours at a strenuous pace. Hopefully that will translate into a good race time. But I'm also going to be experimenting with nutrition, equipment, tire pressure, fork setup, etc in hopes of figuring out my sweet spot for the OC and Syllamo's Revenge. Either way, it will be fun. The weather will be nice (anything's an improvement from last year's snow), there will be a ton of cool people, we'll be riding mountain bikes, and I'm bringing beer. Is it even possible for this not to be a great day?

Am I Up Or Am I Down??

So I can't seem to find any consistently lately as we are rapidly entering that most critical period in the training for the marathon races (see previous post about wanting a rock) where I should have a solid base and now more or less be fine tuning. One day I feel like Lance Armstrong toying with the competition up a hill, the next I feel like the fat kid in 7th grade trying bunny hop a huffy over plywood ramps.

Case in point: This past weekend was the Ouachita Challenge training camp (mad props to the Henne's for hosting and the CARVE team for organizing). I rolled out with a fast crew for sure, but given my goals this year of being a mid-pack CAT 1 and doing very well in the marathon series, I should definitely be rolling easily with this bunch. They didn't drop me or anything, but after climbing only Chalybeate Mtn then half of Blowout Mtn, I was cooked. I kept riding with the group, but there was no giddy-up in my horse. After we crossed Big Brushy, Penrod & Wes mercifully claimed they were cooked as well and we bailed. Good for me. I honestly didn't feel capable of completing the whole OC course that day. Maybe the snow and cold played a part, probably did, but I just felt like I should have had more endurance at this point in the season. I was actually sore on Sunday. Sore! Jeeze, shouldn't I be beyond that?

Then tonight on the Tuesday night hammer-fest, I rocked. Not to brag, but it was true. I won a difficult uphill sprint through Burns Park over people that have dropped me recently there, then I pulled the rest of the way to the Big Dam Bridge dropping several folks and splitting our little mini-peloton in two. After a brief re-group, we finished out the ride by heading the usual way over the bridge, back to Little Rock, then the grand finale hammerfest up the long Kavanaugh hill into The Heights. I hung with 2 other guys and we gapped everyone else by several hundred yards. And believe it or not, I still had plenty of legs left. And all this only 3 days after being the fat kid at training camp.

So which am I? Am I the fat kid on the Huffy or am I legitimately getting in "CAT 1 shape"? I know that if I made my routine, diet, warm-up etc more repeatable I'd probably get more repeatable results. But my routine doesn't really vary that much. My friend Sarah suggested last week I get a coach. She has a really good one that has yielded good results and she says he's not that expensive. But I just don't think I can be regimented enough with my training to make that worthwhile. Between traveling for work and spending time with my kids I'm just not willing to make it a high enough priority. So maybe there's my answer right there. I am where I am because I'm at the limit of what I'm willing to sacrifice. Part of me is ok with that. Part of me is not because I know I'm really close to making rides like tonight my routine. Oh, and I really want that rock. Can I have my cake and eat it too? Pretty please?

I just rambled.