2012 Syllamo 125k

The Syllamo NUE 125k started the same way that most other mountain bike races seem to start. Wake up in a crummy motel and frantically get everything together for the day’s journey. No matter how much time you give yourself to get things ready, it always seems to be a little less than necessary.

We got to Blanchard with just enough time to throw on my race kit and get a short warm up while Sarah dropped my aid station bags for me. I only got about 10-15 minutes of warm-up before getting to the start line just in time to snag a spot near the front.

Little did I know that I was about to embark on what would be the most grueling, painful ride I have ever completed.

The race starts with a steep 1100 foot climb that immediately turns to technical single-track. Being in a good position at the top of the climb is critical for having a good run through the first 20 something miles of single-track.

I entered the single-track near the end of the lead group, roughly 10 riders. I was exactly where I wanted to be. I didn’t kill myself on the climb, but got in a good enough position that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting clogged when someone eventually bobbled some of the technical sections near the beginning of the trail.

Everything was going well until we hit the 2^nd aid station; we flew through aid station 1 without stopping. When we arrived at aid 2, I expected to have 2 bottles of fuel waiting for me. Instead, after waiting for 2-3 minutes as the aid station crew dug through a mountain of 1 gallon Ziploc bags with race numbers scrawled on them, I was told that I did not have an aid bag at this stop. Crap.

I’ll take a second here to interject a small factoid into this story. I have the stomach of a sickly child. I have to be very careful about what I put in my stomach as I race or I will quickly end up with a twisty, gassy, bloated belly. It ain’t fun.

After 4-5 minutes had passed, I decided to fill my existing bottle from the coolers that contained HEED. This way, I was hoping to at least have some calories in my system as I rode. I knew that it was going to be a struggle to ride strong on fewer calories than I need, but I didn’t have any other choice. It turned out that the cooler didn’t really have HEED in it. It was so watered down that calling it HEED is just wrong. It was more like water with a scant amount of HEED mixture added in to it. Each bottle may have had 50 calories and I require just short of 300 calories per hour.

Around the 3.5 hour mark I started to slow down. I could tell that I was starting to bonk and I needed to take in some calories. I knew I would be coming up on an aid station soon and they should have some of my fuel. Plus, I was finishing the most technical part of the trail; the rest of the race was comprised of primarily smooth rolling single-track.

By the time I got to the aid station, I was pretty wiped out. I wasn’t just in calorie deficit, but I was also super low on electrolytes. I grabbed my aid bag, put my fuel on the bike, and popped some caffeine and ibuprofen. I started to feel a lot better. A LOT better. I went from Granny gear to big ring in about 15 minutes. I was really far back from the leaders at this time, but I thought I might still be able to pull off a good race. After hammering around the fastest section of trail and catching several folks, I pulled back into the aid station to grab my last bottle of fuel. Only 25 miles left. This would require 2 bottles, but I am okay finishing a race on a bottle of something other than my mix as long as it isn’t anything too funky. HEED is generally okay. I took off still feeling tired and rundown, but I was able to push gears. Then, the wall hit me. I think my last bottle of fuel went sour as it sat in direct sunlight for several hours at the aid station. My stomach shut down and nothing would process. Back to granny ring, whole body cramps, nauseous, foggy headed, tired, painful breathing, locked up back, barely able to hold my body off the handlebars. I crashed several times, not sure where or how many, but I have the bruises and scrapes to prove it. I’ve never wanted to NOT be riding a bike so badly. I proceeded to ride the slowest 25 miles I have ever ridden on a bike occasionally having to get off and just sit to lower my body temperature. I didn’t have my HR monitor. I seemed to have left it on because it was dead before the start of the race. My HR had to be through the roof because my core temp felt like it was 100 degrees. I felt so hot, like I was in an oven. I honestly don’t know how I finished. I almost passed out a couple times while riding. I was in bad shape. When I finally made it to the finish, I was over 2 hours behind my time from last year, I had lost 13 pounds of body weight (that’s almost 10% of me), and I was told I looked a bit like a skeleton. I was still light headed, still nauseous, back still tweaked, and it still hurt to breath. We left soon after and I think I made it roughly 30-45 minutes in the car before losing what little was in my stomach. After getting rid of the spoiled drink mix, I felt about 50% better. Today, the day after, I feel okay. I hurt, I’m sore, but I’m not wishing for a bullet like I was 24 hours ago.

Lessons to be learned.

Always be prepared, in every aspect. I carry enough tools to be completely self sufficient in just about any mechanical situation, but somehow I have always just trusted that my drop bag will be there and I will have the nutrition I need to continue the race. I won’t make that mistake again. Also, give yourself more time than you would ever think you need to prepare for a big race. You’ll use it all, I promise.

Why 29" wheels aren't for everybody, and a dig at 2x10' drivetrains

I know, I know, this topic has been beaten to death many times over. But, I think it still needs a good, swift kick in it's lifeless ass. So, if anybody cares to read one more potentially useless, opinionated commentary that probably has more holes in it than Stan's could seal up, read on fellow opinion-holder. Read on.

First, let me introduce myself as a lover of all wheels, regardless of size, race, creed or religion. I attend the Universalist Church of wheel sizes. Everybody is welcome here. I will try to keep this sermon as short as possible, and to use as little industry jargon as I can. If you hear me talk about "an increased angle of attack" or anything fancy like that, please slap me and bring me back to the normal world. I apologize, but sometimes I black out and just start rambling about anything cycling that comes to mind.

Now, on to the argument at hand. 29" wheels have some distinct advantages over 26" wheels. They keep rolling with less effort than a 26" wheel, they roll over obstacles easier than a 26" wheel, and for taller riders, they simply make the bike fit better. However, they also have disadvantages that are directly proportional to their advantages. Before logging off and dismissing me as a "hater", hear me out. You can still call me a hater, but you have to listen to me rant before you do so.

29" wheels take more effort to move. Period. It is a bigger, heavier wheel and it has more inertia than a 26" wheel. This is good when you are moving and a bad thing when you are stalled or trying to increase your speed. Also, remember that fit thing I said earlier? Yeah, it goes both ways. I know that some companies have made 14"-15" frames that work with 29" wheels and can fit underneath a 5'2" female frame. I acknowledge this point and I don't think this is a terrible thing for some (read: a very select few) men and women, but I do think it's terrible for a lot of shorter men and, in particular, women out there.

Very, very, very rarely will you see me on a 26" wheel. I have ridden 29" wheels way before they were popular or mainstream. They work well for me. I like them. But, here's why. I am 5'10", an XC/endurance racer, and I like to think of myself as a stronger-than-average rider. 29" wheels fit under me with no problem, they cover more ground on each revolution than a 26" wheel does, which I like as a racer, and I don't seem to have a problem getting them started again if I stall on a technical climb......most of the time. Oh, I also don't think it's crazy when a wheel set cost $1000 or more, which means I ride pretty nice, lightweight stuff.

Now, before you go and say "Didn't you see Emily Batty tear it up on her 29'er, she's just 5'2"? ", hear me out. I am a big fan of miss Emily Batty, for more reasons than one. But, with all due respect, she's no ordinary rider and she doesn't ride ordinary equipment either. I'm here to discuss the everyday rider, the first time mountain biker, the weekend warrior.

My opinion is thus. If you are shorter than 5'6"-5"7 you should really think twice about hopping on the 29" bandwagon before considering everything that goes into it. If you are going to spend $5000-$10,000 in order to get a bike as fast and light as Emily's, disregard what I'm saying and go enjoy riding the hell out of that bike. However, if you are just getting started, or only looking to spend $2000 or less on a mountain bike, be aware that for every upside to a wheel size, there is a downside. Please consider the following:

1. Are you strong enough to push a heavier wheel up those steep climbs? An entry level 29" wheel set with tires can weigh close to 50% more than a 26" pair. Plus, read my rant on gears below for more ...

2. Are you going to be walking if your bigger, heavier wheel comes to a stall on a technical hill, or are you going to be able push hard enough to start it rolling again? When 29" wheels stall, they stall. I don't mean "Oops, I stalled, let me get started again".  I'm talking old Buick in the turn lane to the freeway on-ramp kind of stall. Pop the hood, look aggravated, apologize to all the traffic your holding up.....You just got some guy fired for being 5 minutes late to his first big meeting about advertising or the stock market or something. Can your conscience handle this?

3. Can you stand comfortably over the top-tube of your bike? You really need a couple inches or so of clearance, not just the ability to physically clear the top tube when standing over it. I don't know for certain, but I have heard from trustworthy sources that it still hurts when your crotch hits a top-tube even if you don't have balls there to cushion the blow.

4. Do you have enough upper body strength to control the bigger wheel? The 29" wheels certainly seem to track better in my opinion, but if they get off-course, it definitely takes more strength to get them back on track.

Don't get me started on 2x10 drivetrains... Just because it works for the professionals, doesn't mean it's right for everybody. I remember when there was no shame in a new rider dropping down to that 22tooth ring, shifting into the 34t cassette cog, and giving a 26" wheel hell up some steep climbs. Now we force them to ride a 26t small ring with a 36t cog on a 29" wheel. Here's a link to a gear inch calculator if you want to see exactly how much harder that is.  Hint-- it's a lot. Bigger hint, it's roughly 20% harder. Wow....

No wonder I see so many people walking their bikes on the trail. This industry is trying to kill it's newcomers!

So, when your friend asks what bike they should buy to get into mountain biking, please take a moment to consider all the options out there and the impact they have on the rider. Don't just point them to the newest, trendiest bikes out there, and don't assume that what works well for you will invariable work well for others. Not all of us are as strong and fit as Emily Batty, and not all of us can afford to ride the same equipment as she does. Also, hot. Not many of us are as hot as Emily. Don't know if that helps her much, but it sure as hell can't hurt.

Spa City 6 Hour Race

Bah... 2012 is starting off to look a whole lot like 2011, and I have got to do something to change that. I spent a good amount of time building trail karma in anticipation of the 2012 race season. It has to start kicking in soon.
Anyway, on to the title of this post. The 6 hour race was a race I had been looking forward to for a decent amount of time. It was a home course for me and it suits my riding style fairly well. It is a 10.something mile loop with roughly 1000 ft of climbing per lap and, while it isn't what I consider technical, it does take some handling skills to keep your momentum through all the corners.
The race started out with an abnormally long lemans style start which was pretty brutal on the ol' knees and ankles. I don't mean to complain, but I think I am...
The first lap was fast, and I came through the start/finish area about a minute or two behind the few guys like Byan Fawley and Tinker Juarez  that were really drilling it at the front. This was okay, it is where I wanted to be. I would much rather race to catch the few folks in front near the end of the race than be running too hot and burn out a few hours into an event. I firmly believe that endurance racing is won through intelligent pacing.
Lap two threw me for a loop. I don't think I have ever had a flat tire at Cedar Glades, and I usually run race tires. This time, I decided to run some heavier tires with reinforced sidewalls just to be on the safe side. Somehow, I still managed to get a flat tire. I'm not sure exactly what caused it.
I jumped off the bike and proceeded to begin fixing the issue. After getting a tube swapped in and hitting it with an instant inflator, I realized that the tube had pushed the tire over the sidewall in one area....Wah Wah.
This is when I start kicking myself in the ass. I always race with a hand-pump, but this time I opted for C02, and I only had one C02 device. I let some air out, enough to get the tire back on the rim, and put in the remaining air from my inflator.
This got the tire up to....oh, I don't know, 10 psi?
I decided to start cruising at whatever speed I could until I came up with a plan. About 5 minutes later I *happened to find* another c02 to use. -Thanks for wearing the jersey with loose pockets, Dave.
Now I was back up and ready to start reclaiming my position. The last half of lap 2 and all of lap 3 were pretty hot. I caught the majority of people who passed me during my last minor inconvenience.
This went on until the beginning of lap 4 when I realized that the rear end of my bike felt squishy. Not just a little soft.... Jello squishy. Warm, delicious, Jello squishy.
Crap.
At this point I began to baby the bike around the course in an effort to keep from making the rear wheel complete trash.
I failed.
When I came into pit after lap 4 my wheel had basically come untensioned. The nipples were just twisting loose on the spokes.
Double Crap.
It was starting to look like I was done for the day.
Then, I was lucky enough to be offered a bike from the one and only Todd Henne. Funny thing, it was the exact same bike that I competed on last time I did Spa City. I don't mean the same model, I mean the exact same bike....I sold it to him about a year ago.
The next two laps were fun. Painful, since I was on a single-speed, but fun nonetheless. I had pretty much given up on getting the result that I wanted, so at this point, I was just enjoying an absolutely perfect day to ride a mountain bike.
At the end of the day, after 60 something miles, I was smiling. I got to spend a perfect day riding a bike. Regardless of how well/terrible a race goes, its always another day on the bike, and that's something worth smiling about.
A quick shout out to Sarah Miller for being the best support person ever. Love ya.