After The Crusher last year I was at a Cannondale dealer event where I ended up on a group road ride with Tim Johnson, one of the top cyclocross racers in the US. I got the chance to talk to him for a few minutes and during the conversation he said something that has stuck with me, 'races like The Crusher teach you a lot about yourself'.
The Crusher in the Tushar is a challenging race that in some ways I have no business taking part in. It's out of my league and I now have two dead last finishes as evidence of such. On the other hand this crazy race has been an unexpected tool in my life. For which I am incredibly grateful.
Last year the race was very much about me. It was about learning what I could or couldn't do. It was learning about how my body would react to a level of stress that had never been placed on it before. It was learning about continuing forward when all I really wanted to do was quit. It was about learning how to live with pain.
This year the race was about others. Specifically to help raise money and awareness for Southern Sudan Humanitarian in their work to ensure children in Southern Sudan have the opportunity to go to school. I used my snow bike as a publicity stunt to do so. I knew it would make the race more difficult. I knew it would hurt. I didn't know if I would finish but it was important for me to try. For the past several years I've read newspaper articles, books, watched a documentary, listened to many NPR stories about the conflicts in Sudan. This was a tangible way for me to do something that could help.
As far as nuts and bolts of the race go:
I was remarkably calm the night before the race. It was one of the best sleeps I've had in a long time. I pushed myself as hard as I could for the first 18 miles. I knew I needed to average a higher speed than I had on training rides if I was going to meet the first cutoff time. I made the cutoff with about 15 minutes to spare and then toned it down from there so I wouldn't burn out too soon. I enjoyed the downhill section, the rain and clouds made the scenery look even more stunning. There was a headwind on Hwy 89 that once again began sucking the motivation to continue right out of me. The sag wagon caught up to me earlier this year and followed me for closer to 5 hours instead of 3 like last year. The second climb was hell. I felt in much better shape than last year, but the wheel weight of the fat bike was obvious. I was determined to keep moving however slow until either I crossed the finish line or they told me my time was up. The last 19 miles of the race continued to be the most difficult for me, but I wasn't feeling sick like last year. While starting the final climb I was informed that there was a group of people at the finish line who were aware of why I was riding such a ridiculous bike for such a race and they were there to cheer for my finish. The fact that people had stayed or come back brought some tears to my eyes. It took me just over 9 hours 30 minutes to cross the finish line this year.
