Any race worth doing

Is worth doing right. (And with the right jersey)
















This past weekend was the Boyne Marathon race, which for some reason was totally uninspiring to me. I had a off couple weeks of training, my planned hard workout a week in advance was shelved thanks to a nice downpour and I just didn't feel the burning in my belly to do my best. From forgetting my team jersey to a terrible morning breakfast experiment, I was just off.

Despite the race, the weekend overall was quite enjoyable. Time with Ali, staying at the swanky yurt, hanging with C-mo, Bryce, Erin and the whole Greyhound squad who braved Boyne was fantastic.

Saturday AM it was windy, a bit of light rain was falling and I was already talking myself out of it. My stomach was a bit bloated so I had two cups of coffee, a chocolate bar and half a pack of ghram crackers to get things moving. While it did work, my stomach was now a little pukey feeling and not long afterwards I was crashing from the caffeine and the sugar. The whole time I was eating it I knew it was a bad idea, I just couldn't stop.

Ali and I depart for the race and I'm feeling just lazy and hoping it would just rain so I could sit back, drink beer and watch the others duke it out with the hardest course in lower Michigan. After some bugging by Ali and the team I go and sign up since there was no more rain.

I sign up, put the number on my bike and go to get dressed, crap, forgot my team jersey and ended up wearing my MMBA jersey that looks like our competition. I was still rockin the plaid shorts though. ;)

Clothes are on, I make up my bottle of Cytomax and extra Endurolytes, toss two extra gels in my pocket and confer with Ali on my second bottle that I'll need for lap three.

I do a short warm up, way too short, just feeling like I can hang on just a bit back from the lead and warm up on trail. Stupid.

Soon we are off and going, the two guys who I knew would be pushing the pace did just that, I held back in the middle trying not to feed the frenzy. It worked, but once again I got too lazy. After getting held up by some of the slower guys that got in between us and the fast guys in the group behind that caught up, they just started to pull out of sight without me even noticing it. The boost from the faster guys must have helped them a bit, me I was silly thinking that it's Boyne and there was three laps to get them. Ha!

Lap one goes by and it's hard. There are three sections that are flat out not ridable, you spin your granny like crazy up some serious climbs up the back of a ski hill and enjoy some very fun single track and flowy downhills while your heart is not in your throat and your quads are not on fire. Some time between lap one and two I lost my team mate Phil who I had been pacing with me since the start. At least I get to see a smiling Ali with her encouragement as she helps us all by volunteering at a road crossing. I kinda like not being hit while I race, but I wish she had been feeling well enough to join us.

Soon I was in no mans land. I'd pass a rider now and then, a rider would pass me and I'd get a boost, but I would just settle back in and get lazy. I saw quite a few people hurting and I was too. There was a beginner girl on the trail who looked to be on the verge of tears pushing her bike. I gave her some encouragement, but she just looked completely blank. I still wonder if this was her first race, because the one she chose is like signing up for the rose bowl as your first football game. This is a seriously technical trail that gets really loose in spots. The climbs sap your legs, the white knuckle downhills have you gripping the bars hard. Your hands, wrists, arms and shoulders start to hurt as you keep yourself on the edge of control, it about killed me as a beginner last year. A while after seeing the beginner in blue I was looking at that last major climb and the rocket ride down the cart path to the start/finish line. Over the line I went, Jenny handed me the bottle that Ali prepped for me.

After grinding out lap two I start to get a bit pissed as I'm out there working and I knew that my competition just got out way faster than I did due to my lack of wanting it. While I'm not doing the CPS series for points this year, I'd still like to show up and be the spoiler for two or three races. My shot at spoiling anything was gone and I knew it. I pushed like hell for a while to make up for it, but I realized that it was pointless, I was probably going to be back of the pack on this one.

Around this time I came rolling up on Greyhound Gary who was walking his bike from cramping up. Gary is a super fast rider, but he's never ridden a course that was so difficult and for that length of time. His body was unhappy with the uncharted territory so I rode with him for a while figuring my race was toast. I gave him about half my bottle full of Cytomax and extra Endurolytes. (We passed the bike pushing girl again, ouch!) The drink helped, but he was still cramping. We'd walk a bit, spin easy for a while and after a couple more walking climbs he wouldn't let me hang with him anymore. I felt bad leaving him there, but he told me to get lost, so I did.

Within moments of leaving Gary, Chris came upon me and I knew I had to step it up. I had forgotten about the leaders in my group and how ever many of the rest of them that passed me, but my new goal was to beat Chris. :) After a couple more miles of single track I was nearing the big climb. I had just gotten into a tight gradual downhill when a elite rider came up behind me yelling to move, rider back. I told him I'd get over as soon as it was clear, he's still yelling and yelling. "Let me find a spot, I'm not going to stop or crash for you." Yell, yell, yell "he's right behind me" yell goes the prick from Fraser Bike. I say screw it, hammer my brakes, skid off the side, ruin my momentum and nearly stop inches from a tree so the jerk can pass. Upon doing so I started to yell back, I was just pissed and there was a stream of expletives flowing from my mouth. "Where is that guy who is right behind you dickhead?" "I don't see anyone back there you assfuck." "You must let lap traffic by" he whines. "As soon as it's safe to do so asshole" I yell back. He yells some gibberish back and I just quit. I've never, ever had a passing issue until this guy. While it's my duty to get over for lap traffic and riders in different age groups, it's not my duty to stop or hit a tree in doing so. I was pissed so I hammered and stayed on him, low and behold, 15 yards later there is passing room, 50 yards later it's practically two track. Could be fun in the parking lot later, but he sounded French so I had no real worries other than not wanting a police record or to be kicked out of Fun Promotion events. The best part was just pulling over for the next two guys chasing him and telling them to go get the prick. ;)

Finally, the last climb, just another mile of single track and I'm home free. A few technical turns, a light lean here, a... Thwhump! I lost the front end and just washed out hard with less than a half mile to go in the remaining single track. It hurt, but I got back up and kept going, flew down the cart path and enjoyed rolling through the sprinklers as I hit the finish line at 3:2x. I was certain I was middle of pack at best.

I headed to the tent, grabbed some recoverite, drank more water, had a bagel and let my body try to recover. I washed off with the hose on one of the buildings and it felt fantastic to get the dirt and sweat off my body. The cooling effect was just what I needed.

I was busy grabbing water for Ali when I saw her come walking back to the compound looking tired, she had been on her feet all day long, in the sun keeping us safe.

The funny part was when another Fraser bike guy came up looking for a bottle opener, I was certain it was about to begin, but nothing ever came of it. I popped the top off his beer with a SPD pedal and he went on his merry way.

As it turns out I actually got third place, but missed 1st by about 9 minutes. Bryan Deal had a great race for first, I doubt I was going to keep up with him had I done anything different that day, had I gotten serious with a plan, stuck to it and put my game face on I know that slightly larger cheap second place plaque would be in my cube at work today. :)

No matter what, it was a good weekend and we all survived Boyne despite battered bodies and bikes. Gary made it out of the woods to finish and Phil rode a bike with no rear brake for half the race. Pimpin got even with Boyne after a DNF last year and not a single DNF Greyhound on the list.

I also learned a lot about myself and how I work. From now on, I won't race unless I'm there mentally, the game face goes on the night before and stays there until the race finish.

The rest of the night was a blur, I was totally whipped. Food at the Red Mesa was decent, so was beer on the deck. But nothing felt better than curling up next to Ali for a good nights sleep.

I'll be back for you again next year Mr. Boyne, for now, it's on to carls family Triathlon and Ore 2 Shore!