Iceman 2012: Flat Tire Legs Edition

Thank you to Grand Traverse Mountain Biking Association for sponsoring my race season this year! Checkout Northern Motion Gear by GTMTBA and outfit yourself with some cool mountain biking shirts. 

This weekend we packed up the camper, loaded the bikes and headed North to Traverse City for the Iceman Cometh Challenge: the largest one-day mountain bike race in the U.S. This year was the largest with around 5,400 participants. Iceman is a 30 mile mountain bike race from Kalkaska, MI to Traverse City, MI.

Nothing gets my heart a pitter-pattering like seeing cars topped with mountain bikes arriving en masse to take over a city for a weekend of racing and communion in the woods.

Iceman has reached mythical status, partly because it is the last race of the season and, because, of the unpredictable weather. It can be 70 degrees and sunny or there could be 8 inches of fresh snow.

As per tradition, Chad and I checked the weather forecast a million times on the drive up. The little weather icon looked like this:

One would assume then the weather would be like this:

However, as veteran Icemaniacs, we were not surprised when we woke up to this:

Photo by James Plichta

. . . Big globs of snow falling from the sky, coating the ground, and blanketing our bikes. I was a little excited.


Iceman was a different experience for me this year compared to year's passed. It approached with little fanfare, minimal preparation, and no forethought. A recent job change and personal events had kept my mind preoccupied with non-bike issues.

I had not ridden my bike since Peak2Peak three weeks prior. It had all new parts recently installed and Friday afternoon, the eve of Iceman, it was re-cabled. I went for a quick ride Friday evening to check out the last few miles of the course before stopping at the Expo. By the time I arrived back at the campsite at 8 PM, Chad was passed out asleep. With no one to keep me company, I decided to hit the sack as well.

We woke up well-rested and ready to go. After a quick breakfast and sticking Grabber Toe Warmers every where applicable we departed to Kalkaska. I arrived just in time to coast into the start shoot in the back of my wave (13).

Last year I made the mistake of going out too hard which resulted in bonking hard 8 miles from the finish. This year I opted for a neutral roll-out but I still wanted to position myself near the front/middle section of the pack. I knew the single track sections would be a jammed up, slow-moving mess and I did not want to be at the back-end of the traffic jam.

The first 8-10 miles I felt strong. I hammered in the open sections, ticking off a rider here and there. I was patient and used the slow-moving single track sections to recover and I did not waste energy trying to pass in unpassable sections.

Somewhere in the middle of the race my legs started to feel like sandbags. A couple of years ago I did a group gravel road ride. My legs had the same sandbag sensation. I kept asking my friend Roxane if my rear tire was flat. "It's not flat," she'd reply. "Are you sure? I think its flat." "It's not flat. It's called 'flat-tire legs.'"

I had flat-tire legs and there was at least 15 miles if not more to go!  Keep pedaling! Drink Endura! Keep pedaling! Hammer! Hammer! I was hoping to ride myself out of the pain. Because the alternative—an actual flat tire—was unthinkable. I had not packed a spare, an air cartridge, a hand pump—I was completely without supplies. If I had a flat tire, I had screwed myself with my own stupidity.

Thwup. Thwup. Thwup. Thwup. I'd been hearing a steady thwup for about a mile and as much as I tried to avoid it (avoidance is my favorite coping mechanism) I eventually had to confront reality.

"I think my tire is flat," I said to no one in particular.

"Yeah, it's very flat." Replied someone from behind.

Pfffffhhhhhhhhhhht. That was the sound of my motivation deflating, my tire had already lost all of its air. My legs were sandbags because I had been working them harder to ride with an actual, really truly, unimagined flat tire.

I pulled off to the side of the trail and watched dozens and dozens of riders go past. No one seemed particularly interested in helping a lady out. I felt dumb standing there, flat tire and nothing to do about it.

Thankfully a friend of ours, Jeff, saw me and pulled over. As much as I had really wanted someone to bail me out, once someone did I felt really guilty! I didn't want to mess up his race! Jeff pulled out an air cartridge and we attempted to fill my tire (I run tubeless).

In all of my riding experience, I have never seen anyone successfully use an air cartridge. Ever. And this was not the exception. It was foaming and generally not being at all effective. I don't know if it froze up in the cold temperatures or what happened, but it was not the silver bullet I was hoping it would be.

I encouraged Jeff to leave me! Save himself! No reason to ruin his race even further. The only response from him was a string of cursing that I don't usually hear until well into a few beers and deep into a stack of logs around the campfire.

Somehow he managed to get some air pressure in my tire, enough to get back on the bike. Jeff took off. I fumbled around some more and shoved a spare air cartridge in my pocket that someone had passed on to us during the debacle. After at least a hundred racers had passed, if not more, I was back on the bike and pedaling up hill.

I didn't feel encouraged about my Iceman race at that moment. A big part of me wanted to spend the rest of the ride having a pity party for myself. But then I recalled one thing that spurred me on. Out of all the people that passed me, I did not see Randy go by yet.

Randy is a friend of ours who started in wave 14—just 3 minutes behind me. Once wave assignments were released, Randy took every opportunity to remind me of that fact. Here's proof:

Randy was using me as his carrot. There was a target on my back. I had found my motivation to put the hurt in my legs. The flat tire may have cost me a place in my age group but I still had a chance to beat Randy! Hahahahaha!

I got my motor running and managed to catch up to Jeff and ride on his wheel. Jeff was hammering in the open sections, catching one group after another—not enough to make up for the lost time but enough that it was fuel for the fire.

My climbing was nothing to be proud of in the last few miles but I held my own and recovered quickly, I was able to pass even more racers going into the next sections of trail.

Trail conditions throughout the course varied from hard packed, to unrideable soft sand and even slippery black mud. I took a turn too fast in muddy single-track, my bike slid out from under me and I landed hard on my side. I smiled--it had snowed, I had a mechanical followed by a crash that would leave an epic bruise. All that was left to complete the True Iceman Experience was to cross the finish line in Glory!

My spirits were soaring when I could hear the jangle of cow bells lining the finishing shoot at Timber Ridge Resort. I rolled under the banner with about 10 pounds of pressure in a very squishy rear tire. It would not be my best time, I would not finish well in my age group—but I finished with a smile and without needing a medic. My parents were at the finish line to meet me for the first time. It was a great moment and I'm thankful they made the trip to be a part of the experience!

And I beat Randy.

My clock time was 2:37 which was good enough for 7th place in my Age Group.

With a longer course and varying trail conditions, finish times were slower this year on average. Chad finished with a very respectable 2:11 (on a 26" bike with tubes in the tires and all). Our friend Jim was just behind with a 2:12.

A big thanks to Jeff for saving me out on the trail. Thanks to my parents for watching the kids and cheering us on this weekend! We appreciate your support!!!!!

I also want to send out a congratulations to my friend and training partner Michelle on her 7th place finish in the women's SS division!

And I can't forget the kids that raced the Sno-Cone:

Levi!

Sage, Kerah, and Bear

Lumberjack 100, Part 2

Other LJ100 Recaps: Danielle Musto, didstuff, Cycling Dirt, WMCR

Relaxing before the start . . . 

There's nothing like racing out of the camper. In fact, I would go so far as to say that "camper racing" is the ultimate kind of racing. It's our vacation home. The bed is more comfortable, the air is more fresh, the coffee more delectable. And we even get to mountain bike race too! Seriously, its the best.

Even though I don't think any one of us slept the eve of LJ100, we were as relaxed and ready as we could ever hope to be.

Look at the four of us: hopeful, naive, . . . nervous.

At this point you may be asking yourself why would someone want to ride 100 miles of single track (in a row!), let alone race it?

• It's a long distance.
• It's dirty.
• It's hot.
• It's physically grueling.
• The potential blossoming garden of butt sores!

The common-sensical person would consider 100 miles of mountain biking to be self-torture, arguable self-mutilation if you consider the last point. And believe me, the last point is a big consideration.

Why?

Well, I guess the answer would be different for each person. It's a paycheck for the pros, it's Everest for the rest of us. 

Mike from Illinois, someone I met during one of my lowest points of the race, said he was finishing this thing for his kids. He always tells them that 'they can do more than they think they can do.' And he wanted to prove it to them. He did a stellar job of being a role-model for his family that day.

And that's why I wanted to do the LJ100. Its true that Michelle first challenged me to do the event and I didn't want to look like a cowering wimp by backing down. But that wasn't the only reason, I wanted to see if I could do it. When fatigue sets in and my body physically starts to quit on me, would I be able to push to the finish? And if you can do that, you feel like you can do just about anything.

(I warned this would be wordy and exhaustive)

The Start

The four of us lined up at the start line. I was filled with a sense of foreboding. This was the point of no-return. Three months and countless of hours of training. It all came down to this: one hundred miles stood between me and the beer that waited for me at the finish line. There was nothing left to do but pedal.

Weather forecast for the day predicted 90+ degree temps. It had been dry, hot and humid. The course would be sandy. But I don’t think any of us were prepared for the thick black cloud of dirt kicked up by the conga-line of bikes in the first few miles. It was so heavy and thick. 

Eventually the traffic jam worked itself out and riding conditions became more comfortable. The first few miles seemed like it was uphill.  Then the course leveled out and I was able to find a nice flow. 

After riding alone for a while I came across a startling sight: a decapitated manikin head perched on a log. The freakish object would become the symbol of encouragement in the following laps, as it was the “welcoming committee” to the mid-point aid station.

The aid station was an oasis in the fog of dirt and pain and sweat. After riding for miles on end in what seemed like the middle-of-nowhere was a Hawaiian party taking place: leis, drinks, food, shoulder massages, and riders socializing and kicking-back for a bit. 

It was a welcome sight but I was not planning on stopping. I rolled on through my first lap. 

Since my computer puked out on me in the first 5 minutes of the race I was taking mental notes of the course to help gauge my progress in the remaining laps.

I remember two steep climbs, two sections of gravel roads, one long sustained climb followed by a wicked fast descent. The last section was a couple of easy rolling miles into the staging/finish corral. 

I rolled into our pit-station to switch hydration packs and grab a bite to eat. Rob, our pit-crew master, helped me get refueled and gave me updates on our group. I felt surprisingly good. The first lap passed quickly, I finished in 3:09 minutes, well ahead of schedule. This scared me. Without my computer I had a difficult time pacing myself, I had gone out too hard. 

First lap down and I'm trying to convince myself I can do two more . . .

Fort Custer Stampede 2012

Fort Custer Stampede. Photo by Jack Kunnen Photography.

See Jack Kunnen photos from Fort Custer Stampede here.

Sunday, May 6th was the Fort Custer Stampede hosted by SWMMBA in Augusta, MI. I've written a full race report for GTMTBA that will be published later this week. Watch for it on their website!

Our family used this opportunity to take the Camper out for the first camping trip of the season, staying at Fort Custer Recreation Area (the race venue). We had a weekend chock-full of camping delights: mountain biking, scootering, playing catch, sitting by the fire, fishing, exploring, adventure hikes, and water gun fights.

There is nothing better than camping because you get to do all sorts of things you can't do at home. For instance, I drank coffee in the afternoon. The kids had hotdogs and macaroni and cheese for lunch. Juiceboxes for everyone! And mom and dad may have even had a couple of beers. Hmmm, I just realized these are all centered around food.

Chad and I had both planned on getting some time on the trail Saturday, logging miles for our Lumberjack training. But we were having so much fun playing with the kids that we had a difficult time stealing ourselves away. I managed to sneak out for a 4-mile loop around lunch time. The course was not marked yet and I got lost attempting to follow the map. Chad went after dinner and was able to ride the course that had now been marked.

The Race

Having ridden the course, Chad gave me a few pointers: Ride in your big ring and use your momentum to roll through the new sections of trail! Riding in my big ring on my Trek 8000 is no problem, but I've had a harder time on my new 29" Superfly AL Elite. I'm not good at the details so I don't know if the reason is the gearing ratio difference or the rolling weight of the larger wheels. Either way, I was thinking there was no possible way I'd use the big ring, I'd waste my legs halfway through the race and hit the wall.

Team Brewer ready to race.

Sunday morning, Race day, was here before we knew it. We were all thankful for a relaxed 10 AM start. I raced for GTMTBA and the kids were both signed up for their first ever kids race, representing team Lil' Coasters XC.

After a quick hug and kiss and well-wishes from the kids, I rode away from our campsite and to the Start/Finish, about 1.5 away.

Fort Custer Stampede is fun because it has a bit of everything and it's almost all on single-track trails. I was looking forward to a competitive race. The women's fields are getting stronger and faster. You can not let-up on the crank for a second because its guaranteed there will be someone right behind you fighting to take your place. And that is exactly what went down on Sunday.

Four of us lead out the field in the first lap, keeping a good pace. About halfway through the loop the race takes you through a section known as the "Trenches," dug-out trenches once used as a training facility for combat troops. It's filled with tight, off-camber turns and whoop-de-doos. I cut one of the turns too wide and my front tire hit a tree dead-on, sending me into a flying endo, flipping over my handle-bars and landing on my head and shoulder.

I was shaky, but okay. I got back on my bike and started to roll on the trail. Unfortunately for me the trail immediately went up a sort-of narrow land bridge with a ravine on either side. As shaky as I was, I stumbled and ended up falling down the ravine. Which is typical for me. If there's a ravine to fall down, I will fall down it.

My crash gave the lead women a good gap and the chase was on! By the end of the first lap I had managed to get on the wheel of Marnie, an acquaintance I've met through racing. She was currently in third place. I followed Marnie's pacing for the second and most of the third lap. At one point we were passed by another racer. With just 4 miles to the finish I decided to create a small gap behind Marnie in order to enable myself to maintain momentum through a technical section of trail. Marnie used this to her advantage and took off. I was not able to close the gap after that.

I finished in fifth place. I had a good race. I enjoyed my time out on the trail. It was scenic, the wildflowers were in blossom and the course took us past several lakes and over bridges. I could not have asked for a better day (other than not crashing).

And Chad was right about the big ring through the new trail. Standing up and hammering through the rough and bumpy sections helped me out a lot. It's good to know I can race in my big ring on single-track.

The Kids Race

Unfortunately the Kids Race was going on during my race so I didn't get to see them. But I have heard all about it.

The kid's racing steeds.

Sage finishing up her lap!

Recovery snack.

Chad helped Bear through the 1/4 mile loop that was mostly single-track. Sage's start was shortly after Bear's and she was left to begin the race on her own. Just after the start, Sage and another girl bumped front tires, sending Sage crashing to the ground. Another mom was there (thank you!) and helped her up. Sage managed to finish her lap, successfully finishing her first XC race! Go Sage!

Camping

I stayed at the race start/finish to cheer the Sport Women as they started. Then it was back to the campground for family time. The kids had the water-guns out and were in a full-on battle with the campfire. Their little squirts sending hisses and steam up into the air. 

Chad took each of the kids, one a time, to ride the whoop-de-doos on their bikes. I went on a butterfly hunt with Bear while Sage was off riding with dad. Then we switched kids. Sage and I scootered around the campground and played catch.

As the day wore on my left arm and shoulder began to ache. It wasn't surprising, being I crashed on it pretty hard that morning. 

Later I sat by the fire listening to the thunder in the distance, just enjoying being with the family. We closed out our camping trip with grilled hamburgers and vegetables for dinner. 

Post-Race

Sunday night I could not sleep because the pain in my shoulder was too intense. On my way to work Monday morning I made a detour to the doctor's office. Turns out I dislocated my shoulder in the crash. They popped everything back into place. Fortunately, its not very serious. I'm supposed to take 3 days off (completely!). And then I can get back to training, but no racing until Lumberjack.

Best Bear Quote of the weekend:
Me: Let's work on not sucking our thumbs kids. Anyone have ideas of how we can practice that?
Bear: I'm not sucking my thumb!
          I'm tasting all of my boogers.

Peak2Peak Race Report 2011

I will be republishing some of my old race reports over the next few weeks . . . 

Peak 2 Peak 2011, Crystal Mountain Resort, Michigan

I did my 3rd mountain bike race this season, the first was way back in early May and then I did a last-minute decision race about 2 weeks ago. I do alright in Sport and so I thought I would test my legs in the Expert cat. Last season I tried Expert for one race and I was DFL. I had low expectations. Furthermore, this race was nearly twice the distance of any xc rides I have done this season.

It rained for 24 hours before the race and there were high winds, gusts regularly 40 mph. And it was cold.

We lined up at the start behind the men, there were approx. 11-12 women racing Expert. We were getting situated when we heard the announcer call out that we were starting with the men! And we had about 60 seconds. None of us expected that. I was not at positioned where I wanted to be for the start, I'm sure all of the other women felt the same way.

Then we were off! The start of the course was downhill followed by an uphill to an open road. One of the women cut me off right at the bottom of the hill and then, she must have jammed her gears because she abruptly stopped right in front of me! I had swarms of people to my left and right. I had no choice but to put my foot down and then try to scootch around her. I lost all of my momentum for the climb not to mention losing the lead group of women.

This has been my experience with xc racing: nothing goes as planned. I was suddenly on my own and trying desperately to pull back some time. The trail was muddy and sticky like peanut butter and the head wind--oh the head wind!--was brutal. Being in a pack would have been a huge benefit.

I kept telling myself to just keep pushing. I passed a couple of guys and maybe 3 women . . . which put me at about 9-7th place halfway into the first lap. And then I was completely alone on the trail. I couldn't see anyone in front or behind. I settled into an easier pace.

Coming into the climb at the end of the first lap I started to see flickers of a rider behind me. She eventually caught me up the climb and finished the first lap about 30 seconds in front of me. I pushed myself once again and caught her about 2-3 miles into the second lap. I asked if she wanted to work together in the open sections, she declined, and so I went on ahead knowing that it was quite likely she would catch me once again at the ski hill.

Which she did. But this time, I just barely managed to keep my lead. And into the 3rd lap we went. I tried to keep a steady pace but it is hard when you're alone on the trail with no "rabbits" in sight to chase.

Coming up to the ski hill for the last climb and I caught site of that woman behind me again. I told myself that she had to be hurting at least as much as I was. I'll admit, part of me wanted to quit--7th place, 8th place, not a whole lot of difference. But, I knew I would be disappointed if I didn't at least try. All I had to do was keep my legs spinning.

I managed once again to hold onto a sliver of a lead into the long descent down the ski hill. At the bottom there was a hairpin turn and we had to ride about 100 feet or so up the ski hill to the finish line. I had some friends cheering me on who all started yelling "You're in third place!!!!!"

Wha??!?!?!?!?!  No way?!? I had NO idea. Apparently there were women behind me from the start, possibly caught in the same jam I was in.

I was blown away and grinning from ear to ear. I never thought I would podium in Expert. I even won some cash. It was a great, great day.