Well, this past weekend I raced the Firestone Endurance XC in Santa Ynez, CA. Five laps of the long XC couse for a total of about 70 miles. This is the first time I've attempted something this long, so I was really looking forward to it. I set three easy goals for myself:
1. Finish
2. Have fun
3. Beat somebody
After a few months of training, one of the best parts of the whole process began: after riding 5 or 6 times a week and watching what I ate, I got to sit around, chow down and blow off riding for the week leading up. Carbo loading and 'resting' for racing rules. I signed up for the race with my good friend and prolific RM poster (3 posts, total) chickenhawk.
Saturday we headed up to the race in hopes of catching some DH action and getting my camp set up. My mom and dad were in CA from NY and helped watch my little girl while I pitched the tent. We caught the last few runs of the DH and one good faceplant before heading the the reg tent to get my schwag. The emergency heli was just taking off to return to home base when we got over there. That was freaking sweet, I've gotta get me one of those. Then I ran into Zark (and maybe Just James, too?). I told him I was doing the 70 miler, and I think the quote was "are you stupid or something? Have you ridden the course yet?" - something like that. Anyway, after that I met up with chickenhawk and family and we headed over to the Firestone Brewery for the pasta feed. I'll go on record here and say that that was one of the best ten bucks I've spent in years, not counting a seedy bar in Argentina. Maybe my perception was distorted by being surrounded by 15 foot high stacks of Firestone beer and wine, but the food was exceptional, and they had some great live music. All around a first-class deal.
Back to the camp for some marshmallow carbo loading and off to bed for my daughter's first camping adventure. My folks and the chickenhawk's opted for solid roofs over their heads. It rained a bit but we slept great and I was ready to rock Sunday morning. Bright and early we lined up, about 25 of us, first ones on the course for the day, and likely to be the last ones off. Everyone but chickenhawk and I looked pretty damn fit and serious, including the two women in the field. No problem I figured, I've been riding hard. Leading up the the start, I was contemplating the ride...what would happen out there? How was the course? Would I live? Will I find some new level of exhaustion that leads to some bizarre euphoria, and become a junky ever hoping to regain the high? Would the chicks kick my ass? With a few cheers the lights turned green (or something happened, maybe somebody just said "go") and we were underway. chickenhawk and I planned to stick together and take it easy and ride our pace. Everybody else took off and we were thinking "see you later, suckers" but in the end we rarely did.
The course was a blast, the DH course was really fun, especially the big-bermed right hander towards the bottom. Getting to hit it five times was good incentive. The climb up to it was tough, but overall the course wasn't too bad, a few other climbs, a few steep short grinders, and a few creek-crossings. The weather and scenary were simply awesome, a perfect day for a bike ride, especially a long one. On and on we rode, chickenhawk and I, talking about the pace, world peace, power gels, aches, pains, and the two women that were kicking our asses. We set up a pit area by the camp ground, which ended up about four miles from the finish, even though it was only 150 yards as the Nazgul flies. It was a nice oasis, but put us out of sync with the rest. On the last lap (after being lapped by two of the faster dudes, one of whom works at the same company as me, the bastid) we passed a guy pushing up one of the climbs. He was clearly on the endurance ride as well, riding a fully rigid something or other. We gave him some encouragement and kept on pedaling. He passed us back when we were getting more fluids at our pitstop and we never passed him back. Oh well I thought at the time. I never achieved the euphoria, and on the last lap, I just wanted to be done. After 7 hours of pedaling we crossed the line in triumph, cheered on by our family and a few generous bystanders.
I was proud of chickenhawk and I, we achieved goals one and two, and overcame it all to bring it home in style. Net result for me was 4th place out of 8 (in my class) 2 minutes out of 3rd, beaten by the dude on the rigid - if I'd only known. So, I nailed goal number three, too. I'm already looking forward to the next one, especially the carbo-loading.
1. Finish
2. Have fun
3. Beat somebody
After a few months of training, one of the best parts of the whole process began: after riding 5 or 6 times a week and watching what I ate, I got to sit around, chow down and blow off riding for the week leading up. Carbo loading and 'resting' for racing rules. I signed up for the race with my good friend and prolific RM poster (3 posts, total) chickenhawk.
Saturday we headed up to the race in hopes of catching some DH action and getting my camp set up. My mom and dad were in CA from NY and helped watch my little girl while I pitched the tent. We caught the last few runs of the DH and one good faceplant before heading the the reg tent to get my schwag. The emergency heli was just taking off to return to home base when we got over there. That was freaking sweet, I've gotta get me one of those. Then I ran into Zark (and maybe Just James, too?). I told him I was doing the 70 miler, and I think the quote was "are you stupid or something? Have you ridden the course yet?" - something like that. Anyway, after that I met up with chickenhawk and family and we headed over to the Firestone Brewery for the pasta feed. I'll go on record here and say that that was one of the best ten bucks I've spent in years, not counting a seedy bar in Argentina. Maybe my perception was distorted by being surrounded by 15 foot high stacks of Firestone beer and wine, but the food was exceptional, and they had some great live music. All around a first-class deal.
Back to the camp for some marshmallow carbo loading and off to bed for my daughter's first camping adventure. My folks and the chickenhawk's opted for solid roofs over their heads. It rained a bit but we slept great and I was ready to rock Sunday morning. Bright and early we lined up, about 25 of us, first ones on the course for the day, and likely to be the last ones off. Everyone but chickenhawk and I looked pretty damn fit and serious, including the two women in the field. No problem I figured, I've been riding hard. Leading up the the start, I was contemplating the ride...what would happen out there? How was the course? Would I live? Will I find some new level of exhaustion that leads to some bizarre euphoria, and become a junky ever hoping to regain the high? Would the chicks kick my ass? With a few cheers the lights turned green (or something happened, maybe somebody just said "go") and we were underway. chickenhawk and I planned to stick together and take it easy and ride our pace. Everybody else took off and we were thinking "see you later, suckers" but in the end we rarely did.
The course was a blast, the DH course was really fun, especially the big-bermed right hander towards the bottom. Getting to hit it five times was good incentive. The climb up to it was tough, but overall the course wasn't too bad, a few other climbs, a few steep short grinders, and a few creek-crossings. The weather and scenary were simply awesome, a perfect day for a bike ride, especially a long one. On and on we rode, chickenhawk and I, talking about the pace, world peace, power gels, aches, pains, and the two women that were kicking our asses. We set up a pit area by the camp ground, which ended up about four miles from the finish, even though it was only 150 yards as the Nazgul flies. It was a nice oasis, but put us out of sync with the rest. On the last lap (after being lapped by two of the faster dudes, one of whom works at the same company as me, the bastid) we passed a guy pushing up one of the climbs. He was clearly on the endurance ride as well, riding a fully rigid something or other. We gave him some encouragement and kept on pedaling. He passed us back when we were getting more fluids at our pitstop and we never passed him back. Oh well I thought at the time. I never achieved the euphoria, and on the last lap, I just wanted to be done. After 7 hours of pedaling we crossed the line in triumph, cheered on by our family and a few generous bystanders.
I was proud of chickenhawk and I, we achieved goals one and two, and overcame it all to bring it home in style. Net result for me was 4th place out of 8 (in my class) 2 minutes out of 3rd, beaten by the dude on the rigid - if I'd only known. So, I nailed goal number three, too. I'm already looking forward to the next one, especially the carbo-loading.
neaky:
