Me-1 Michaux-1

Saturday morning I snuck into my friend Tim’s house and crept up behind him with a rag full of chloroform with which I proceeded to use to block both of his air passages. In retrospect, I suppose I should have at least waited for him to come downstairs in order to make the process of dragging his limp body to the still-running vehicle a little less painstaking. I wasn’t going into this alone. True, I would be there with TJ, but I wanted someone who I might at least catch a glimpse of during the race. I knew the last time I would see TJ is when the dirt bike took off to lead us out to certain doom.

Once Tim woke up and I informed him of what exactly was happening, he was surprisingly ok with it. He told me he was ready for it, I disagreed. He wasn’t, and I wasn’t, and you’re not. I wasn’t ready for the last one either, but faired pretty well considering.

After a group dinner at Applebee’s and a half pint of sorbet, we were snoozing to CNN’s coverage of Hurricane Ike. Up and out at 7:30 to make the 9:05 start. After the pre-race meeting my day began to fall apart.

On the one mile trip down a dirt road towards the start I realized I forgot my extra derailleur hanger; not something you want to forget at Michaux. I figured since the first aid station at mile 12 is actually at the parking lot, I could swing by my car and grab it. It was a minor inconvenience, but my lack of preparedness really upset me. It was then I remembered that I also forgot my gel flask and endurolytes. How is that even possible? So in summary, before I even made it to the start I knew this wasn’t going to be the best day ever on the bike.

Mile 0- We’re lead out by a dirt bike after the pre-start warning that this would be the hardest race we’ll ever do. The only laughs are those mustered by the few who are stepping into virgin territory; Michaux is no joke. The start was pretty quick and TJ, Harlan, Topher, Chris Beck, Cheryl Sornson and all the other immortals were gone. I settled into the mortal group and tried to keep my spirits up till mile 12.

Mile 2.9- I look down to see how far we’ve gone as it feels like at least 6 miles. No HR monitor this time as I knew it would just scare me. The first mile and a half was all downhill which is nice, but doesn’t do a whole lot to warm you up for the eventual climbing.

Mile 4- I’ve already been off the bike at least once to push. The pack is still pretty jammed up with gears and single-speeds all jockeying for a spot. The ground is wet, but it’s already getting pretty warm. Losing traction causes a domino effect of unclipping and pushing to the next ride-able section.

Mile 6- We start the climbing that we owe after the initial descent.

Mile 12- “Can I run to my car and get all the things I irresponsibly left behind before the start of the race?” Yes. A part of me wanted to pull out my camping chair and wait for the winners to come through, but I found my stuff and new sense of purpose. Back out.

Mile 16- Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. I stopped to let a little air out of the tires in hopes they would stick to these wet roots a little better.

Mile 20- We start this hellish climb at the end of a long fireroad. I pushed the last part of it to find Buddy sitting at the top. I stopped to say hi and he offered me the rest of his Sly Fox. I’m not a huge beer drinker, but when a connoisseur like Buddy offers you a drink, you accept it with a smile and humility. Thanks again Bro, it was delicious given the circumstances and did a wonderful job settling my tummy. We all left together before Buddy broke loose and took off like a rabid dog.

Mile 24- Aid station 2. Someone was nice enough to lube my chain while another cut a banana in half for me. Thanks guys. I started to feel better and for the first time in 24 miles, I had positive thoughts about actually finishing. From the word go, I felt like it wasn’t going to happen today.

Mile 26- I felt pretty bad. It’s amazing how fast that course can flip your mental outlook. It took a lot of energy to keep even a half positive attitude. The iPod starts spitting out the Hold Steady's "Don't Let Me Explode." Irony hits like a brick.

Mile 32- I noticed my headset was loose, so I stopped to try and tighten it up. After snugging up the star nut, I went to torque down my stem bolts and completely cracked the threaded part of the stem. Great. No it wasn’t a Thompson. I gave it a safety test which consisted of shake and lean on the handlebars before passing it and taking off down hill.

Mile 32.5- At the bottom the hill there was a sweeping turn and surprise, a few rocks. Here’s a math problem for you. 25 mph + wet roots + wet rocks + plus tired and beaten rider = x. In this problem x is equal to a smashed carbon seat stay and a 4 mile walk.

Mile 34- Walking. Slowly coasting the flats hoping I’m not doing further damage to the frame of my HiFi. I did the math in my head and realized that in order to finish at my 3 mph rate, I would be out for another 7 hours. I came up to a crazy steep downhill which would have been super fun to ride, but alas I had to walk it and hope I didn’t see any snakes in the thick grass.

Mile 35- I see a guy loading a bike into the back of a pickup truck along side the road. This isn’t the aid station, but I decide to hop in. I’m broke and he’s broken; had enough. We swing to aid station 3 as there are a few more to grab.

Mile 36- Aid station 3. Tim is there after going out a little too hard. “You broke your bike and I broke my legs,” he says as I help him hoist his bicycle into the truck. 10 minutes later we pull into the parking lot and begin the “unload of shame.” The questions followed, “What happened?” All I really had to do was point.

Fin- Harlan won it, and TJ took second. TJ also won the overall; super excited for him. Topher won single speed and also took the overall. It was nice to see TJ take it; I know how much it meant to him. Special thanks to him and TOP for all the help. Maximus in 7 months; I’ll be there with bells on.

It takes something special to put me at a loss for words.

Michaux is on Sunday. It's raining here in Seven Fields which got me wondering what I'd be missing weather wise by going 3 hours east.

click to enbiggen

Not too bad. I don't mind missing stormy clouds and little lightning bolts. So then I decided to check and see just what I would be dealing with this weekend. One would think it wouldn't be all that different as it's only 200 miles away.

grow me by click

I'm pretty much speechless.

Seven Springs 24 hr. Challenge

I wrote this post on my fourth lap of the day which happened to start around 6 a.m. I was ending the long climb that began at the intersection of the course and County Line Rd. The climb that takes you up a rocky double-track switch-back (three times fast!) and drops you onto some new trails before cresting the way top and descending back down. That's where I wrote this post; or at least the opening.

I had just yelled something or other down the hill to Jason which got me thinking about turkey meatballs. This got me thinking about Mike Friedman whose nickname IS Meatball, which in then got me wishing I had worn my argyle Twin Six jersey instead of my 4.5 laps old ToP jersey. Not only would the clean jersey feel nice and fresh but the blue and white diamonds bring out the gray in my eyes so well. After pondering this for a second or thirty, I started to wish I had my I-Pod so I could listen to some LCD Soundsytem instead of the strange thoughts that run through my brain at 6:30 a.m. This finally got me thinking about computers and this thing you're reading now. Why can't my brain just go from Jason and his terribly popular online presence, to my not so popular online mashup? Few more important questions have ever been asked.

We got fourth; I'm kinda bummed. I had a blast though and would do it all over tomorrow if I could. Highlights, lowlights, and just alrights.

Highlights-

- Lap 1 time of 1:10 after surviving the run which is a miracle in itself.
- Lap 2 time of 1:05.
- Jeremy put down a first lap of 1:20 which got me super excited for him.

Lowlights-

- Completely rolling my front tire off of my rim in the first mile and a half of my third lap. I reached behind my seatpost for the tube that is always taped there but somehow managed to not make the trip with me this time. Whoops. There was Stans everywhere and I was pretty much out of options. One small Co2 cartridge, a couple Hail Marys, and a quick cross later I was able to limp through the lap on 20 pounds. We went to church Sunday night.
- Once again having rear derailleur issues the night before the race; replaced and adjusted lickity split.
- My calf completely seizing at the end of the first lap.
- I felt pretty terrible during my last lap. Don felt left out so he rode it with me which made me happy. It probably would have take me five to ten minutes longer had he not come along for the ride. He was looking really fit after his jaunt at the beach two weeks prior. Lap 5 time of 1:16

Just alrights-

- Lap 3 time of 1:13 with the whole tire debacle.
- Lap 4 time of 1:13 with no tire debacle.
- Last year we did 19 laps and won by two laps. This year we did 19 laps and got fourth. Yikes.

In retrospect, I had a really great time. So many great people that I've come to know over the past year or so were there which made the entire weekend seem like a big party. Sitting by the fire talking to Justin trying to absorb everything he said was my between lap ritual. Super good guy, can't wait to get out with him sometime so he can beat me up a little. Stopping by Jason's site to see the love and passion that he has for this type of masochism while at the same time getting to witness the devotion of a wife helping her husband succeed. Rumor has it that another solo friend was taken to the hospital at some point during the race. Dying to live has never been so literal and so scary. Hopefully everything is ok. Talking to Aaron S and Don P was really cool as they're people that I've seen around, but never really talked to. It's amazing how one day and a venue like a 24 hour race can fast-forward a friendship. Of course all of the usual suspects were there like Anthony, the Brads, MJ, and Chrissy who (I think?) defended her female solo title. Super proud to call all of these people my friends.

And the guys on my team, what can I say? We did all we could and it just wasn't good enough. That doesn't mean I regret it for a second though. They're all such great people and I owe them a lot. Their bringing me along has meant so much to me. So much more than words typed can express.