Friday I hopped on a plane to Az so I could do a training race in flagstaff. I knew the altitude would be tough. Not much was posted about the course but looking at the map I knew that it was just shy of 100 miles and had over 6k of climbing, with a max elevation of 9000ft. It was going to be hard. Exertion at altitude is a challenge for sea dwellers and exasperated with asthma. I took my puffer before and carried it. The race organizers said the course would take 5 hours. That meant it should be fast, so I put ample (read:too much) pressure in my tires. I also never fully trust race prediction times and packed enough food for about 10 hours 🤪.
I had my camelback and 2 bottles and figured, if the race times were right I’d only stop once. The race started with a mellow 4 mile neutral lead out where I was nicely positioned at the front right behind the Aussie national champion. Then all hell broke loose. Normally in a long gravel race people form groups and stuck together. It quickly became evident that this was no normal race. As soon as the lead our vechicle turned out it was on. The men just kept attacking. A group would form, then an attack. The following group would fight to get back. Another attack. It was relentless. I stayed with this group at a hard pace for about 45 min before my legs said “no”, and my heart rate warned me I was in the red for too long. I settled back into a tempo pace on my own. And that was that. For the rest of the race I was solo. I’d meet up with someone every now and then, chat for a bit and then we’d go out separate ways due to hill skills or aid station stops.
I was sure that I was racing for second after the first hour. The AUS national gravel champ was there and she’d hitched onto an attack I missed. There was one out and back- up to saddle mountain- and I saw her on the way down. She was about 5 min ahead of me 40 miles into the race. I was surprised. I expected her to be further ahead. I told myself: keep pushing, never give up… you are doing this to test your limits . she’s a great carrot for you to chase. Stay focused.
I really tried to focus on pedaling. My mantra for the day was Relentless Forward Momentum. My goal for the day was to empty the tank. I did both.
The course was unforgiving. The singletrack was so narrow you couldn’t see the dirt. There were a lot of chunky rocks. I didn’t see one big one and I came unclipped and my pedal took a chunk out of my ankle. Ouch. Keep going. The climbs were long, sometimes really loose, and exposed to headwinds. Keep going. Some of the down hills were so sketchy I had to put my foot down a few times. Yup, keep going. After hitting 9000 ft I was experiencing altitude sickness - dizzy, a bit nauseous. Took my puffer and kept going.
There are these moments where I am reminded of the impact of the car hitting me head on a year ago. My brain can’t process the sun/shade sometimes and I have to stop, close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, then try again. And I get this deep deep pain in my right quad where the muscle was torn- pretty much a constant companion a few hours into a long ride. I’ve figured out a stretch I can do while on the bike that alleviates the pain, and sometimes I do it once per mile. Sometimes 5x per mile. Sometimes once every 5 miles. It’s not what you think- I’m not complaining. These moments fuel me. I have a flash of frustration, then I have an overwhelming sense of gratitude and desire to push. My mental thought process goes like this: I’m here. I signed up for this. Yes it hurts. Yes it is hard. It is exactly what I wanted. Suffering induces growth. Get after it. Use the opportunity to grow. And so I keep going. Relentless forward momentum.
The aid stations deserve a shout out. The first one only had whiskey 🤪. Yup. Whiskey. Thankfully the water station was just another 5 miles. I dropped a bottle somewhere in the chaos of continuous attacks in the first hour. I stopped 3 times, not wanting to risk running out of water. There were tutus, whiskey, and friendly faces at each one.
I did ok on my fueling, consuming ~1800 cal and 5.5L of fluids in just under 7 hours. Yes, that is how long the race took me. I target between 200-250cal per hour on the bike and was happy to hit my mark. I ate pancakes (oat banana from home), waffles, sandwiches, cliff blocks, Skratch chews, and had EFS pro in my bottles. I like variety and it worked well. And yes, I had food left. I also consumed all my saltstix tabs (about 12). It was hot and dry! My feet kept feeling like they were either on fire (kept loosening the boa) or about to cramp. I’ve never had that on a long race. Something to study. The tabs kept me from cramping and there was not much I could do about the feeling of fire, or what people call hot spots. Hurt like hell… but I kept going.
There is a time in almost every really long race where you ask yourself “why am I here? Why do I do this? What the f** was I thinking?”. The answer is always the same. You chose this. You want to find your limits and push thru them. You are here to learn and grow. You are here to suffer and part of you dies, making room for other parts to grow stronger. Every time you do this, you come out stronger. So keep going. For me, this line of questioning can happen a few times. Usually around or just before 4 hours in, and again in the last miles if they are tough. And boy were those miles tough. There is a saying that pain is weakness leaving the body. I left a lot of weakness out there in the desert. All part of the process, making room for something stronger to grow.
I am proud of my ride. Proud of my growth. And the icing on the cake is that somewhere along the line the AUS champ called it, and I came first. Relentless forward momentum for the win.
