Fast Fitty Race Recap

Here comes the Fast Fitty race recap. 

I checked the weather before I went to bed on Friday and I was already waffling. While it wasn't a huge chance of rain....pushing 50% for thunderstorms was making me pause a bit. 

I checked in the morning to find good news with a green light to load up and head to Charlotte.

I learned that this was the 6th edition of this race. It would be my 4th attempt. I was hoping for the best, but honestly my confidence was waning. My riding has been down and....well.....probably shouldn't bother to start with excuses. Lets just get into it. 

I drew a very misleading number plate. All this means is that I was the 6th person to sign up....and nothing more. lol. It was, however, funny to get glances in the starting pen. One guy looked at my number, then slowly looked up at me.....with just a blank stare. I am not sure if he was trying to sort out who I was or if he was wondering why I was towards the back of the start area. lol. 

I got to the start chute about 10 minutes before go time. I rolled in and found my spot. I was feeling decent. As ready as I could be. It was time to go. They announced a 'controlled start'....but it felt like anything but. I jumped onto a wheel and we were cruising. The start being pavement helps to spread things out. I saw the main group make the left onto the gravel and I was settling in. I found a people riding my pace and we made the left into the gravel, and the wind.

The wind wasn't bad, but I was thankful to have someone to tuck in behind. I don't think he liked it much, because he tried to accelerate and drop me. But 2 others latched on with me. We had a small group of 4. My heart rate was doing good, but the pace was pretty high (even in the group). We made the next left back onto the pavement and the destruction started. With all different levels of climbers the group spread out pretty quick. I was in the middle, holding my pace over the top. After a fast descent, the pavement ends and dumps you back into gravel.....and it got ugly quick.

Right off the pavement it was pure washboard. I couldn't avoid it. It was high speed, and it sucked. We had built the group to around 10 at this point. People scattered. I ripped into the bumps and got slung out of the group. This was where my problems started. Not a major impact, but just a rough segment. I tried to bridge back to the group. 

I caught back up but the group was thinned down and spread out for the next 15 miles. There were people here and there. But every hill would break us apart. Consistent climbers would leave me behind and the gaps just kept getting bigger. 

Around mile 20 I was riding alone. I had a guy catch me. He moved ahead of me and waved me to follow. We worked together for the next few miles trying to catch people ahead of us. It was exactly what I needed and what I wanted to do. Work with people towards the finish line. Unfortunately he was stronger and I couldn't hang on a long climb. He slowly churned away and I was alone again. 

Not exactly sure where.....but I had two incidents with potholes in this stretch towards mile 30. The transitions into the shadows are where they happened. One was a descent where I was stretching my legs. I was eyeing my computer and slammed into a deep hole. I didn't crash, but it did send some shivers up into my left shoulder (which is still uncomfortable as I type this). Not great, and this will come up again later. 

The second incident I was just cruising along when I smacked another one. This time I hit so hard that it clanked my teeth. Simply just didn't see the hole as the sun shifted to shade in the trees. Not great. But not anything that killed my ride. Just factors that were starting to pile up.

Maybe I cooked the start. Trying to hard to keep up with people faster than me. Maybe it was the surging of a group pace that I haven't been training for. Maybe it was a lot of things. I started to fade at mile 30. Mentally I was doing ok, telling myself to just keep going. But the body was starting to break down.

My shoulder was bothering me to the point that my hand was going numb. I kept having to let go and just shake it out, work the shoulder around to try to loosen it up. Stomach started to feel full. I wasn't processing my Perpetuem the way I needed to. I was feeling full....and that isn't great when you need to keep water intake up due to the heat. I was trying to drink more, but was starting to feel like I couldn't get any more in. Then my feet started to hurt. Again, something I have experienced before....but not at all this year. 

Then my mind broke. 

My speed started to tank from all of the factors above. When I started to wonder how many miles I had left, it was over. I got to an aid station and stopped for a water that I couldn't drink. I took a sip, poured some on my body to try and cool down. I walked up and across the road before trying to pedal again. I was ready to quit here.....35 miles in. I pressed on as much as I could but I was just gassed. I passed another aid station at mile 42. I was going to keep going, but I simply pulled off and found a giant oak tree to sit under in the shade. A volunteer came up to check and make sure I was ok. I was ok....and not ok. 

I was done and dusted. 

Looking back at the aid station and crossing where I finally gave up. 

My trusty steed, waiting patiently to be picked up.

It was dry and dusty out....

42 miles in and I couldn't do anything but find some shade and relax. I was ready to puke. Legs were toast. It was hot, so I was pouring water over myself (since I still wasn't able to drink much). I just sat and hung out until the SAG vehicle got there. I got back to the car and I cleaned up. I had some crackers and a protein shake waiting. It was good to get some solid food into my system. I got a DNF, but I lived. I heard one person had to leave in the ambulance. The heat must have gotten them. It got me too, on top of everything else that happened.

I was sick earlier in the week. I was hoping for the best here, but I HAD to listen to my body and shut it down. Pulling the plug was the smartest thing I did on this day. I could have pushed on and potentially done some damage. Or I could have pushed and left in an ambulance. There are worse things than a DNF. The decision was made easier by the laundry list of things that happened in the many miles leading up to where I stopped.

Still, 42 miles was rough. But, those tough 42 miles were better than sitting on the couch. I did that Sunday. lol. 

Bike was super dusty after being hauled on the back of a van for many miles. 

One of the worst parts is that if I had hit my average speed goal I likely would have been on the podium. That is a tough one to think about. But a 'what if' won't get me anywhere. Would have been cool to hit a podium in a gravel race though. I just have to remember that there is always next year. 

I am only a year removed from my surgery. I have been riding a lot, but not as much as I would like. My focus and motivation have been all over the place. I have thankfully been dropping a little more weight and I am currently at the lightest I have been since my surgery. With only a year of training I am doing pretty good overall. I only have a few rides that hit 40 plus miles, and only 1 that touched the 50 mile mark. So this event was going to be a huge test. 

Reach for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. ~Norman Vincent Peale

This quote above came to mind. I tried. And even though I didn't reach my goal.....I was out there doing my best. It sucks that this was my 4th time at this event and my first DNF. I was hoping for more, but I know that shutting down was the best choice. Looking at the last 12 miles I did have around 1000 feet of climbing left....so I am glad I bailed. haha! 

Its a fun event that is growing every year. This year just under 500 people were there. Give it a look if you are interested in a flatter gravel race. There is a reason they call it 'fast'. Plus its for a great cause. And....if you finish on time there is free beer. So....incentive.

Maybe next year I will do a shorter distance, maybe not. All I know is that I have to keep moving forward. We don't do this for money or fame. Its about health for me. Sure being fast is cool, but being healthy is the goal. Gotta keep that in mind when things go sideways.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for the support! As always....keep moving forward. 

 

Day by day

Upper Mac was like riding on pavement

The best thing for me to do is just focus on each day as it comes. Not saying that I will completely disregard the future....but I cannot stress about the future. I need to focus on what is going on each day and crush each thing as I arrive at it. If that means crushing a run....crushing a ride....crushing a project at work....or crushing dinner then so be it. One day at a time is my best bet.

I have been taking my oldest to work every day because his car is broken. This week he started at 5:30 am. I am up and on the road before 5 am to drop him off....then another 30 minutes to South Haven. So starting work at 6am I can be out super early. The problem is....I have to pick him up too. No point in driving home 30 minutes and finding something to do for an hour and then driving back up to Zeeland to get him at 5pm. I did however find a solution.....leave work at 3....drive to Zeeland and ride Upper Mac until he get out of work.

Wednesday I loaded up the bike and made the stops. Worked my day. My day always ALWAYS goes better when I know I am riding afterwards. I swung to the gas station to procure some fluids and landed at Upper Mac around 3:40. Plenty of time to ride. Parking lot was empty other than a girl doing her workout. So I geared up and headed to the trail. 

To say "hot" would be accurate. It was low 90's and sunny. I was dripping sweat before I ever got on the bike. I headed up the connector and the open areas were crazy hot. Where the sun beats on the open sandy areas is like riding thru an oven. The shade was comfortable. I don't mind riding in the heat as long as I have water with me. 

The trail was in pretty good shape. Kudos to the volunteers that keep it clean. This trail is so different though. Lots of off camber. Hard clay base. A little bit of everything. Not my favorite trail, but a trail to ride when I have some free time. Not easy either. I wouldn't take my littles here until they get more experience. The rolls can sneak up on you sometimes and attempt to buck you off the bike. Thankfully no crashes.

My ride wasn't fast. But that doesn't matter. I was riding. I was content. I was letting things go and actually focusing on riding. I was noticing more things about the trail that I have never really noticed. The woods are desolate at times. Meaing, just trees. No brush to speak of. But then it changes and there is more brush and only smaller trees. You can generally always see a long way thru the woods. You can see the trail snake down the sides of the valleys. This is a bi-directional trail. And it is way different each direction you ride it. 

As 5pm rolled past my phone got a text notification. Riding thoughts started to fade and life thoughts started to creep back in. I reached the parking lot to find it bustling with people gearing up for their rides. It was a good day....and I will take it. Mentally I was reset.

A year ago

A year ago I was lining up for The Lumberjack 100. The preparation was done. The nervousness was still there, because the daunting task of 100 miles stood in my path. A task that many riders stronger than me have failed. The only thing left to do.....was ride.

I have a handful of teammates heading to the Manistee area today to prepare for the race tomorrow. They have done the work. Now they just need to ride. The anniversary of this event got my brain working and thinking about how the hell I even finished such a long race. Blank. My mind was blank, but I was taken back to last year and I remembered some of the details. Here are some of them.

The start

For me, back of the pack. No reason to be a hero here. I was at the race to finish and I know my limitations. Brian and I headed to the last row and a few people trickled in around us. Nervous. It was more nervous back here than it was in the middle of the pack. It seemed more nervous back here than the it was in the front row. Of course, they are professionals....but the nervous conversations between the riders back here was interesting. Not all were confident. Some were over-confident. Most were excited to try to finish.

First Lap

The pavement leading to the singletrack seemed a lot longer than it was. The roar of 300+ sets of mountain bike tires on pavement sounded like a parade of monster trucks. The nerves were growing here because reality was setting in that we were riding 100 miles. The first major climb was a conga line, 2 wide....and as long as I could see. The leaders were gone. I didn't see them again until later, when they lapped me. Patience. Gotta have patience. Can't blow myself up on the first lap and risk not finishing. Gotta go fast enough to make the cutoff time. Dang this hill is long. The thoughts are bouncing all over the place. Pace. Pace. Pace. That is what was I was trying to focus on the most. Pace. Ride your race. Don't hurry. Pace. When I reached the aid station at 17 miles in I was happy. But at the same time I was thinking "holy hell...that was only 17 miles??". It seemed like a long time to get there but I was keeping my steady pace. Feeling pretty good. Grab some food. Go. It really starts to thin out for me. Still seeing people around every bend. Riding with a few here and there. But people are settling in and riding their own races now. I see the sign that says 5 miles to go. Whoo! Almost done with the first lap. 4, 3, 2....the miles tick away and I am feeling pretty good. Just keep that pace, don't blow up. Drink. Crud.....I am behind on fluids. Drink, pace, drink, pace...oh...parking lot. Lap 1 done. People cheering like crazy for us as we roll through. Hit the tent. People are helping like crazy....so I can relax a second. Bike...good. Camelback swap. Bottles. Go get em'. Nothing but encouragement from teammates and friends. Leaving the pit area people are still cheering. 2 to go.

Lap 2

It is quieter now. The trail looks different. Much more defined than a few hours ago. How long until cutoff time? Still have plenty of time because I was on pace for my first lap. That cutoff time is the only thing I am worried about now. Well, the cutoff time and this long climb that doesn't want to end. Where is everyone? Feels like I am alone....wait.....there are a few people. Good. I am on course. Pace. Cutoff time. Pace. Cutoff time. 40 miles in. Not feeling too bad. Drink. Pace. Cutoff. Drink. I wonder how Brian is doing. Hope he got his tire fixed. Drink. Pace. Wow, this flat feels amazing. I am holding a decent pace right now. Drink. Rider....closing in on him fast. It is Todd. He looks like he is struggling....

"whats up Todd?"

"HEY SEAN!!!! Rockin, your looking good! Go Go"

"keep on truckin'

Dang, he is struggling. Hope he can keep going. Must have started too fast. I am feeling pretty good and DRINK. Pace. I gotta get to that aid station before the leaders.....RIDERS BACK.

You have got to be kidding me. I am only 44 miles in...better slide over. Holy shit they are flying. Jordan, Tinker, Tanguy leading and a guy I don't know. Wow. Fuck they are fast. Gone already. lol. Just keep spinning man...they are professionals....you just want to finish. Cutoff. Pace tells me I am doing alright. Where the hell is that aid station. Ribbons.....finally. Half way home. The aid station is like a party....but everyone already went home. lol. The workers are awesome....tons of encouragement. Half way there Sean, see you next lap. After the aid station it is quiet again. I have to walk more hills because I just can't justify killing myself to try to slowly climb. Plus, the walk gives my body a break from the bike. The bike is working good though. How is my time? Average speed tells me I should make the cutoff. Drink. 5 miles to go on the second lap....cool. I am doing alright but that last lap is gonna suck. Don't think about it. Just get back to the pit. 4, 3, 2.....ah....I hear the pit area. Seriously.....only 1 to go. You got this. Roll into the pit and swap bottles and camel. The worker bees attend to the bike and clean out some leaves. Good. Tom says "Hey, you made the cutoff....so good job. Also, every person we have sent out on the third lap has finished. You have all day now....enjoy it....but get your ass back out there....see you in a few hours". 

There were a lot of people finished. Doesn't matter. Just go. The crowd is already shrinking but it doesn't matter. The ones that are there cheer and wish good luck as I leave the pit area. Then, the solitary confinement begins.....

Final lap...33 miles to go

This cliff bar tastes like shit. I throw it out into the woods because I just can't eat anymore. I am full. Legs are tired. Body is tired. But I only have 33 miles to go. I can do that. Trail looks like a highway now. Holy hell this climb is long. A rider? hmm. Just keep spinning...just keep spinning. It is beautiful out here. What a cool place to ride. The event has been cool. I just want to finish and get that patch. Plaid. lol. I wonder where Rick got that idea. At this point my mind is all over the place. But I keep plugging away. The miles slowly fade away and I am thinking about the aid station. Hey, there are a few riders. Not surprising....everyone is fading now. I am doing ok...my plan to pace has worked well for me and I feel like I can finish. The people that started too hard are who I am catching now. The conversations are short. Hey. Hey. that is about it. A woman asks me how I am doing and we ride together for a while. I stated that I just want a finisher patch and she was excited to learn of this award. I accidentally gave her a reason to continue by talking about the patch. It was nice to have a conversation with someone who was suffering just as much as I was. Someone that was experiencing the same emotions....totally in the moment. We catch another guy and the three of us are talking about how we are feeling, drinking, and just enjoying the situation. Eventually I have to leave them because I had to ride the pace I was comfortable with. Wow, I left them. I am feeling good. Aid station? Hmm. Seemed longer last lap, must have been the conversation. Now the aid station looks like the aftermath of woodstock. desolate. just the workers. These people are amazing, coke, snacks...anything else? Gotta go, 17 miles to go. I am going to finish this damn race. Cathy says "see you at the finish Sean, good luck". Off I go into solitary again. The climbs seem longer. Legs are blown. A rider? Yeah, this dick is gaining on me like I am sitting still. "Hey man, you need anything...I am support....have water, gels....anything?". No, I am good but thanks. Hey is there anyone behind me...or am I last? "dude, there are a handful of people back there....you are surely not last....keep plugging away". Cool. Not last. Would it matter? Nope. Finishing dead last in a 100 mile race is better than not finishing. Where is that 5 miles to go sign. I am ready to be done. Ugh, I need to drink more. Holy shit, I don't remember this climb. Am I getting delusional? Nah, I'm good. I am doing this. I see it....5 miles to go.....oh man. Maybe I can quicken my pace....hahahahaha....yeah right. Just keep spinning. 4. As the 3 miles to go sing passes I catch the glimmer of a rider ahead of me. Sweet, maybe I can catch him. This keeps my mind occupied for the next mile as I finally catch Fred. Took me 98 miles to catch you but here we are. We continue on towards the finish and I just keep pace with him....it was nice to have someone to talk to. Suddenly, the parking lot. Oh dude....we did it.....

Finish

I did it...100 fucking miles on my mountain bike. I wanna take a shower. My family? Wow, that is cool. All these people congratulating me. Dang. Maybe this is bigger than I realize.

"well done man"

"love you honey, proud of you"

"awesome job"

"1st try!!! awesome"

It was finally over. I was done. I had my finishers patch. I wasn't last. I had a plan of attack for this race and I followed it. It worked. I paced. I drank enough. I didn't blow myself up trying to be a hero. I just had a very long ride in the woods.

Good luck to my friends racing Lumberjack 100 tomorrow. Remember, this is a marathon not a sprint. You guys are awesome and I wish you nothing but success.