Merida 24 hour.

Over the weekend I had the privilege of racing in the Merida 24 Hour mountain bike race. I was hoping to use the race to qualify for the world championships in Canberra this year but just couldn't pull the goods for that goal. While I am a little bummed about the result I am not really surprised given my lack of training and preparation for such a big undertaking.
Anyway, enough whining about how I could have done better and how I could have trained harder. I didn't. I did however get to ride a top track and even surprised myself with a few good laps. There is also the undeniable pleasure of hanging out with some mates and the camaraderie of your fellow racers asking you how you're travelling at 4am. Gold. By the way, I was travelling pretty badly.

The first couple of laps were really good. I got a great first lap and passed a few riders after taking it real easy off the line. I was almost last to leave as I couldn't really see the point in tearing off to only be caught in the mess of riders at the first corner. I rolled out and then hit the first climb a bit harder to pick up some places. All going well so far. Lap 2 was really a carbon copy of the first only that I had a clearer run in the single track and had a bit of fun railing the corners and bombing one or two sections. The sections through rock bottom and 007 were awesome but after 8 hours I was ready for some easy fire road. My arms and wrists were shattered and the dust was choking me. I had trouble seeing out of my left eye and under lights the trails became pretty scary. Nick had been filling me with food and coffee to keep me going up until this point and encouraging me to keep plugging out laps but my resolve failed at 8.30pm. I dropped my bundle big time and decided to get off and have a sleep. A hot shower and some food later I was tucked up in the sleeping bag quite comfortable. I didn't sleep much though.
The internal battle raging in my head kept me awake. I could have toughed it out and kept riding. I could have made a few more laps. My mental state was really fragile and it took a huge toll on my physical state with the prospect of more laps leaving me in a very dark place. I was struggling with every little climb and battling through the single track at night meant my lap times were going up faster than my emotional state was coming down. Finally at 2.30am I got up, put on the riding gear and went out for some more laps. I'm glad I did, but boy it hurt.

The dust had settled with the dew and I could see again through my left eye. I went out slowly to try and last through the morning until midday. I was a mile behind qualifying and had no real hope of getting back in the game. Each time I came around I would stop for a minute and eat a little and drink as I was finding it hard to eat on course. I had a chat to a few riders during those first two laps back and that was nice. It lifted my spirits quite a bit. As I came around for lap 3 Nick was waiting with coffee and some kind words. I thought he had been asleep but he said he had heard me slip out but had stayed in bed as he thought I was going for a comfort stop. The coffee was great and gave me a little bit more of a lift and saw me through that third lap quite nicely.

Really after that the whole thing became academic. I pumped out a couple more laps to total 15 for the race. This sat me in 10th in my age category and 46th overall out of 81 solo male competitors. Not good enough to qualify for the worlds but it just wasn't to be this time. The painful truth that my lack of preparation had meant I had not achieved my goal this time was a pretty bitter pill to swallow. It was made even worse by the fact that it was my mental strength and not my physical condition that let me down. I got to a point where I really did not want to complete any more laps and was happy to admit defeat. Oh well, back to the drawing board and lots more hours on the bike.

Green Light for Punishment

No choppy choppy for my knee! The doctor has said that I will not require surgery at this stage and that I should be fine to ride in the Merida 24 hour next weekend. I can't wait. I have nursed my knee for the last few weeks and been really scared to push it hard in case the effort did more damage. One week out though and I can knock over a few big rides over the weekend and then some quiet spins during the week and then it's on.
Nick has kindly offered to be my support crew still and whip my butt if I get slack and decide to get off the bike. He is also helping me feel bad about not training by going out and doing 125km on the road bike today with 1890m of climbing and then backing up for a spin around Daisy Hill tomorrow.
I managed a run around Camp Mountain today finished off with a single track blast at Bunya and felt really good. At least recovery rate is still very good as if I was a bit puffed I could stop for a minute or two and bounce back strong. I ran into Matt Powell on the way back as he was completing a ride with 3000m of climbing as his preparation for the race next weekend. Luckily he is not in my age category. Unfortunately the guy he was riding with, Jeff Toohey is. I am not even in the same school let alone class as Jeff. He is a machine and it will be good to watch him tear apart the field over the race.
So do I have a plan? Nope. If I feel tired I will stop and eat. If I need sleep I will rest. Other than that it is go as hard as I can, enjoy the riding as much as possible and generally have a top time on the bike. I may qualify for the worlds if I am lucky as there are already a number of riders qualified in the field. Overall I and very excited about the prospect of another test for myself. I have been pretty slack in the last couple of months and found plenty of reasons not to train or push myself. This weekend will be a real wake up call and remind me how much I like riding and racing. Giddyup.

Whoosh clatter rattle.....

I am sick and tired of thinking about work. I am sick and tired of not riding my bike. I ma sick and tired of being sick and tired. The cure temporarily is to bash out a few miles on the Gap Creek single track and just totally immerse myself in riding. I can't push too hard at present as "my little friend" on the back of my knee gets a bit tetchy and gives me gip for hours after a ride. I'll give you the tip though, unless the surgeon tells me I will lose my leg if I do the 24 hour race in two weeks I will be there.
Whats a whoosh clatter rattle? It's the noise my bike makes as I fling it through a corner and rumble over the braking ruts. It isn't a bad noise, it just means that you're hangin' it out and speed is bouncing your chain around and your tyres are chomping into the dirt making a very satisfying whoosh. My favourite sound today was the noise of the guys breath suddenly being inhaled as I nailed a tough line with gusto that he was walking up on "Dingo". A tricky little climb over a rocky ledge that comes straight after a rocky loose descent that takes all your speed and makes you either commit or fail. Truth be told I only make this section one in about four times I attempt it but today the frustration and disappointment of not riding enough bubbled up and exploded as a moment of sheer belligerence. I had too much speed on to be sensible and way too much to back out by the time I hit the base of the pinch. Fuck it, brakes off, sit forward and when the time comes pedal like your life depends on it. It kinda did. The reaction of the guy was like a cold beer on a hot day.
I really like riding my bike. Hopefully the doctor will say it's all good and the race will be on. I look forward to the hurt.

What a fantastic weekend of riding! If the 90 odd k's of road riding yesterday through beautiful farmlands and along quiet roads wasn't enough today a visit to Parklands on the Sunshine Coast really topped it off.
First things first. It has been a while since I have ridden with Steve so we organised a spin for Saturday morning. We had spoken about a nice cruisey roll of about 24-25km/h and maybe for 60km. A great way to blast a few cobwebs out after all the sickness and health problems that have been plaguing me. As it turns out there were two other riders joining us and they were pretty darn handy on a bike. Darryl and Luke were waiting with Steve at the agreed spot and I knew I might be in trouble. I had ridden with Darryl before and I know that at 40+ he is strong as an ox and able to pump out the power.
I struggled a little from the get go. We weren't breaking land speed records but the pace was certainly up. There were some long flat sprints and they really hurt my knee and made me more than a little uncomfortable. I looked down at the Garmin at one stage and we were knocking out 45km/h along a flat into the wind and had been for some time. So much for the 24 km/h cruise. Around the back of the route there are one or two small climbs. They may be only short but at 18% they really nail the legs and get the heart rate pumping. Anyway, rolling right along. The final few k's were pretty steady. I didn't attempt to smash myself but rather took it easy and just kept the legs buzzing along. After all that it ends up at 28.5km/h for 90km. Not bad.
Parklands. I have never ridden there before and all reports had it as technical and bloody hard work. It lived up to all that and more with the first entrance into the trails being a monster steep run in through rocky broken single track. From then on it was 2 hours of on the rivet madness.
Nick and I were meeting Pete along the way to the coast and as Pete climbed in the car the banter started and the trash talk flowed like warm honey on hot toast. We pulled into the carpark and met up with Andrew who would be our guide for the day. It didn't take long before he had joined in on the ragging and snapping off merciless one liners if someone put a foot down or blew some maneuver on an obstacle. The fact that this was his backyard and he was a very skilled rider meant it was instantly on for young and old. Pete was smashing it through the single track and keeping pace with Andrew while Nick would easily catch up on anything that pointed up leaving me to hang on by railing the descents as fast as possible and struggling to stay with gang on the climbs. It's important to note that all of this riding was on single track. The whole day we did maybe 500m of fire road.

We popped out on a ridge line after riding through the rocky terrain characterised by the first part of the ride. Then we dropped into another world. It changed from dry eucalypt forest to lush temperate rainforest with all the slippery roots and tacky loam soils you can handle. It's fast and furious down in the valley with not a lot of elevation change and some areas to get off the brakes and make the most of the grippy soil. Man it was fast. There are some narrow bridges and log rides to get you across some of the gullies and tricky little G outs for the rest. I love this type of riding as it requires you to concentrate totally on what you are doing and look down the track in preparation for the next challenge, the next obstacle. Andrew was flying.
We rode around to the far side of the forest and had a little breather and a muesli bar. The park was busy and we saw at least another 5 or 6 riders just while we sat there. The trail that followed was just another highlight in a day full of them. There were several log rides and the tightest, twistiest switchbacks I have ever ridden. My rear wheel spent more time in the air then on the ground as I tried to muscle the bike around the corners. Once the flow came on though I had a smile you couldn't surgically remove. Sometimes it just takes one move, one perfect placement of a tyre to switch the brain from the mode that has you trying too hard to where you let it all go and just let the bike do the work while your body just floats with it.
More climbing. Up out of the eucalypts again and along the rocky single track back to the cars. Mega. we had been riding for 2 hours, covered only about 23km and worked for every single meter. As a measure of the difficulty of the trails I can usually average about 15km/h in single track without much drama. Managing only 10km/h was pretty humbling. As we scoffed coffee and cakes at the Swiss bakery though Andrew admitted that 10km/h was a pretty good result for Parklands. Even locals struggled to grind out that pace and we had done it without the advantage of prior experience of the trails. I feel pretty good. Smashed, but good.

Saddle sore and satisfied.

Finally after 3 weeks of sore knees, spewing and coughing my way through life I got back on my bike and rode a few K's. Yesterday was only a 15 km stroll around Bunya to turn the legs over and basically sit on the bike to say I had. Not impressive, fast or hard but it was a ride nether the less. I ran into Nick at the start of the ride and he rolled around with me for a bit and we organised to meet for a ride this morning on the roadies to try and blow a few cobwebs out. The road bike is great for that as it tends to be a more consistent effort rather than the more intense efforts that characterise a long mountain bike ride.
It was bloody freezing this morning though. Luckily Nick and I have agreed that if we organise a ride then we both feel bad if one of us bails out. That and the fact that the person who pulls out is mercilessly ragged on for the next ride and publicly ridiculed to any person who will listen. The male ego provides some very powerful motivation when necessary. Anyway, pinch of concrete in the teacup consumed, winter woolies donned and I was off. Bloody freezing. The plan was a lazy loop of the dam, out to Samford on Wynn Road and home via the coffee shop near home. Should total about 50km and be pretty relaxed. It was. I was pleasantly surprised at how casual Nick was taking it and I was coping with the pace quite well. Then he told me he had knocked over a bottle of red the night before and was feeling a bit ordinary. Right then, time for some fun. I pushed it a bit harder than I thought I could with a head still full of snot and made sure I didn't slip back on the climbs and made him work just a bit. The payoff came as we headed over the Samford Range and he complained. "Where's the bloody elevator!" I have never heard Nick complain on a hill and he realised he had slipped up immediately. He turned to me and said "You're not going to tell anyone that you heard me complain about a hill are you?" Oh hell yeah I am. "Nick, I am going to get it sky written. I will shout it from the rooftops and tell random strangers in the street." It was one of my finest moments since starting to ride with that skinny mountain goat of a human and I am still savoring it now.
After that he pelted down the other side and I had to try really hard to not get left behind. The taste of coffee was pulling us along like an invisible rope and with the last push back to home flat and open it was down in the drops and on the gas. Nothing blistering but still a solid 50km/hr all the way to the coffee shop. Coffee carrot cake and conversation. The perfect finish to a ride. I may have even lit a little spark in his head about taking on the Terra next year. We'll see.
It feels bloody good to be back though......