Monday, June 9, 2014

At Least My Stomach Felt Good - The Wasatch Back 50

I knew I could ride 46 miles of singletrack. I knew I could climb 5000 feet. I knew I could finish the race. I lay in bed too nervous to sleep.

I'm increasingly drawn toward longer rides and longer races. The reason I'm drawn toward long casual rides is easy, they feel good. I don't know the exact mechanisms or reasons why, but I know it's about the only time I feel pain free and normal. The reason I'm drawn toward longer races is a bit more complicated. They do hurt and I know they're going to hurt and that's why I want to do more of them. I know that might sound odd, but I have my reasons for it - a topic for a later post. Along those lines I raced my first '50 Miler' mountain bike race last weekend, the Wasatch Back 50 in Heber, UT.

I arrived early after a fitful night of sleep. I wanted to make sure I was there in plenty of time to get checked-in and have everything setup and arranged for the long day ahead. I had all of my things together with some time to spare so I walked around the parking lot saying hi to some friends. In one of the conversations the idea came up of carrying along some Vitamin I (Ibuprofen). I'd heard of people doing that for endurance events, mainly running marathons, but I'd never actually considered doing that. I keep a small bottle in my car and decided to throw it in one of my jersey pockets.

People began gathering around the start area, loosely forming into their categories. I knew the Clydesdale's (210+ lbs) were supposed to line up at the back of the 50 miler crowd but in front of the 25 milers. I made my way to that general area and spotted a familiar face from the local Clydesdale community. We chatted briefly about what we've been up to since CX season and speculated on where some of our Clydes brothers were because we weren't seeing them around? As the categories ahead of us were being called up and sent off it became apparent that it was just going to be the two of us for the Clydesdale category. I knew I could beat him no problem in a CX race, but I had no idea on this one. I hadn't come into this race concerned about winning, my main goal was to try some ideas about hydration and nutrition. Nutrition and hydration are things I've been struggling with at the Crusher in the Tushar race. I'll be fine on a long training ride, but on race day my stomach turns inside out. Anyhow. I hadn't been concerned about winning.

New Plan: Win!

I had pre-ridden the course, but I accidentally rode the loop in the wrong direction. I kind of new what the race course would be like, but not exactly. I did know it started with a long switchback filled climb. It was going to be a long day so I settled in on my rival's rear wheel and let him set the pace. I was feeling great and could have easily climbed faster than we were, but I also didn't want to burn out. I figured I'd save the hard effort for the second lap. Toward the top of the climb there were a few technical rock garden spots that I didn't plan on riding with my fully rigid (no suspension) mountain bike. My plan was to run them CX style, which I did but which also allowed my rival (on his full suspension bike) to open up a small gap.

The long climb was over and the fast section had arrived. We were on the east side of the hill now and the terrain changed. Aspen trees replaced scrub oak and dark brown dirt replaced the light rocky desert soil. Dark brown dirt that was a lot softer than I remembered it being when I pre-rode. I was enjoying the downhill section and pushing as hard as I could to catch up and close the gap. Up ahead I could see a hard right turn. It had what I thought looked like a nice berm so I decided to rail it. However, it was in a shady spot and I failed to notice the top of the berm was a big pile of moon dust. I went down hard. My right hip hit the ground first and as the rest of my body followed, I could feel and hear my spine crackle and pop all the way up to my skull. The wind knocked out of me as well, it took what felt like minutes to get back up and riding again. Riding hurt and my lower back and right wrist were going up on the pain scale. I stopped worrying about closing the gap and slowed down my speed. At only 11-ish miles into the race and with the increasing pain I was more worried about being able to finish. Then I remembered the Vitamin I in my jersey pocket!

New Plan: Push through to the next aid station, down some ibuprofen and at least make it back to the start/finish area. 

The ibuprofen had started working and I was feeling pretty good as I pulled up to the start/finish area to begin the last lap. I switched out my water bottles, grabbed more food, downed another serving of Vitamin I and took off.

New Plan: Push hard and hope my rival is having a rough second lap. 

Two miles into the second lap my energy level instantly tanked. I didn't feel hungry. I didn't feel thirsty. My legs felt great. But overall my energy was just gone and I could barely keep my crank spinning. You know those nightmares where you're trying to run away from some monster, but you can only move in slow motion? It was kind of like that.

New Plan: Keep forward motion. Don't dwell on the suffering. Don't complain.

The Lap Two climb presented the opportunity of an additional hour, versus Lap One, for contemplating life, the universe, and why the hell I was even doing this race. It was quality time.

I made it to the top of the hill, but hadn't seen anyone else in a long time. I figured I was probably DFL again. I felt fine on the downhill sections and rode with abandon. If the trail turned up, then I was back to pedaling in slow motion. All in all I was actually making pretty good time now. At the final aid station I downed a Coke and some salty potato chips, had my water bottles refilled (they even put them back on my bike - the support and all around running of this race was excellent) and I headed off for the final stretch. The Coke, sweet nectar of the bike racing gods, worked wonders. I wasn't pedaling in slow motion anymore.

New Plan: Finish in less than 6 hours and 30 minutes. 

I pushed as hard as I could when I could. I outright stopped when I needed to eat. This part of the course had a lot of little bumps and I was tired, at this point I didn't trust my ability to eat and ride at the same time. My helmet snagged on branches two different times. Since not complaining wasn't part of my current plan and no one was around, when it happened the second time I yelled at the branch. Loudly and with much anger. The time was running out, but I was close to the end. I pushed my tired body as hard as I could for the last couple miles and crossed the finish line at 6 hours 28 minutes 25 seconds. Almost an hour behind my rival and almost overall DFL.

The good news is I didn't have any GI issues, my stomach felt fantastic the entire race. Obviously still some other things to figure out. The process continues...

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