Author: The Adventuring Heidi

Whoa, I think I finally enjoying cyclocross a bit more?!  After dialing back racing a ton this season for my sanity and health, I came to the realization that there is no need  to go and race every weekend.  So I’ve been picking and choosing my races carefully.  Since that means a wide open schedule, I decided to travel the 2.5 hours north to Casper to race at the Wyoming State Cyclocross Championships put on by Fat Fish Racing.

The weather was mild, yet windy (it’s oh so windy in Casper).  The course was at Washington Park, and was quite difficult with a lot of steep off camber grass climbs and descents, some single track, barriers, dizzying spiral, and a steep dirt descent that was long and upwards of -35% grade at times that tested handling skills on skinny tires and the ability of canti rim brakes to slow a bike.

I must admit, I sometimes struggle at cross races without my constant tape and 9′ regulation width, but I soon figured out how to navigate the flags and cones that marked the course.  The open/expert men and women lined up together for what would be an hour long race.  Doesn’t seem like a lot, but when I’m use to 40 minutes of cross racing that extra 20 minutes is HARD!  I tried for a good starting position, but the narrow-at-times course had people fighting for position.  Luckily traffic thinned out and I set to keeping and building my lead over the other two female competitors.  I didn’t feel well during the race, my legs seemed a bit dead and lacking in power – turns out my seat slide down 7cm!  Not sure that’s the entire reason, but had to play a little part!  On the bright side, I magically taught myself how to remount without stutter stepping, and remounted perfectly all 9 laps, so the barriers went super well.  After a little over 58 minutes I cross the line as the women’s state champ!  Woohoo!

The next day was a race north of Fort Collins, TCCX.  TCCX  = Tom Carter Cyclocross, a fundraiser for a local cyclist that had an unfortunate BMX accident and spent time in the ICU.  There is nothing like a grassroots race in Fort Collins, as they know how to party and put together a good event!  Mud was involved, much to my delight as it has been a mud free cross season for me thus far.  4 of us lined up for the open women’s race, including my friend Suzie and local 12 year old whiz kid Olivia.  Since this was not USAC or anything stern and boring, there was a “Bourbon Bypass” that allowed one to skip a longer stair run up if you took a shot of whiskey at the bypass.  Needless to say, that was definitely an advantage to a certain point!

The race was shenanigans filled!  I took the Bourbon Bypass all 9 laps, so that goes without saying some bike handling might’ve gone out the window!  But it was a ton of fun nonetheless with a great crowded heckling me on, and I was still remounting my bike properly!  I ended up in 3rd place.  I was in 2nd solidly for 6 laps, then decided to dial it back, take beer handups and just survive the 40 minute race 🙂

Two fun races all in one weekend!  Wow, I figured out how to make this cyclocross thing enjoyable! 🙂

Cyclocross season is here!  This year I decided to take a more relaxed approach since I was so miserable last year.  So I bought a single speed 2016 Specialized Crux, and vowed to have fun and not get dejected by strings of last place finishes!

I started off with one of the weeknight races in Golden at Back 2 Basics.  I doubled up with both Women’s B and Singlespeed.  My body wasn’t quite ready for the shock of cyclocross, and the B race was quite painful.  I was the last off the line at the start, which meant dealing with a lot of traffic.  I ended up 14th, solid midpack which wasn’t bad for having such a bad start.  My singlespeed, which was an open men’s category, went a lot better with significantly faster lap times, and I was 22nd, which I was pleased about!

Onto CycloX Valmont on September 19th – my favorite venue!  I love love love racing at Valmont with it’s long sustained climb and fast downhills with table top jumps, and stair run ups that I can run up… just pure love!

First up was my first time in the brand new BRAC category, singlespeed 4/5.  USAC rules allow women to race down a category, so I have been quite tickled that I can race a SS category that is a bit more of my ability (no offense cat 1/2/3 men, but you’re too fast for this girl!).  I ran 40×18 gearing, which was a complete guess (it worked out nicely!)

I settled into 4th place rather comfortably after some passes.  I really enjoyed having shifting taken out of the equation, and enjoyed trying to maintain speed as best as I could through corners and on the downhills.  All was going well, even the 5280 Stairs, until the 3rd lap on the Belgian Stairs.  Up I went sprinting and then BAM!  The top left of my pelvis caught all my weight on the edge of a stair after I tripped at full speed.  Immediately spectators asked if I was alright and I nodded yes, but I was in some of the worse pain I had ever felt in my life.  I hobbled up the rest of the stairs, nearly doubled over as more people asked if I was really ok.  I kept nodding and got on my bike, like any reasonable person would do, ha!  Dismounting, remounting, and running were out as it was too painful, but I carried on.  I lost one position, and finished out the race in 5th.  Not too shabby, considering…

I made my way over to the first aid tent and had the gravel scrubbed out of my knee, and then back to my car where I had a cold pack in a first aid kit which I quickly shoved into my skinsuit on my left hip.  It hurt to sit, it hurt to stand, it hurt to breathe… and I had another race to do in just a few hours!  I carefully changed out of my kit to give me a break from chamois time, and sat in my car trying to get some relief.  Luckily the cold pack along with 800mg of ibuprofen eased the pain slightly, and I got back on my geared bike to get some food from the food truck to fuel up for the afternoon.

I really didn’t know how my women’s cat 3 race would go, and I decidedly aimed for a last place finish as that is what I’ve come to expect.  Strangely enough I had a 2nd row call up.  I fumbled a pedal at the start, and was 2nd to last after the first sand pit which I had been getting stuck in all day.  I wasn’t discouraged, and began picking off other racers one by one, especially on corners and more “mountain bike-y” parts of the course (with moments of frustration as people rode very slowly and on the brakes over the table top jumps).  I was feeling strong and powerful, helped along by my friend Suzie, who doused me in water as I came through the pits.  I was going back and forth with Michelle and a few other girls, and had a sneaking feeling that I was in the top 10, but really had no idea.  I came through the pits one time and someone whispered to me “you’re 8th.”  Whoa, what?  Turns out I was riding in 5th-8th positions the whole race in the field of 21!

The last lap my side was cramping and my injured hip bone was smarting, but I powered on.  Coming down the finishing stretch I sprinted like crazy and missed 7th place by two-hundredths of a second!  What a great race!  I was in complete shock about where I finished in the field, though I must admit I was slightly worried that now that I would have higher expectations for all the races (easier to not care when you’re always last!).  My nasty wreck in the morning made the afternoon’s results that much sweeter 🙂

A great, though painful, start to my cyclocross season!  Though it’s been almost two weeks my pelvis is still very tender on the spot where I crashed onto it, but I think I’ll be alright 🙂  Racing SS and SW3 did make for a long day, so I’m not always sure I’ll double up, but at least I have that option.

I’m pretty sure my bucket list always read do the Leadville 100, not finish the Leadville 100.  And I did just that!  For the down and dirty, I quit at inbound Pipeline Aid Station at mile 73.5.  And I’m okay with that.  It started going south about mile 29 very quickly, so the fact I hung on for another 44 miles (and including the climb up Columbine which covers over 3300 feet of elevation gain in 7 miles) I think says something.  Not sure what that something is, but something.

I was up stupidly early on race day, way earlier than necessary for a 6:15am start.  I learned the white (aka last) corral is not a curse, as when they took down the tape and smooshed us together I was halfway up the blue corral.  Whew, glad I didn’t spend a ton of money traveling to a qualifier, as it really didn’t make a difference!  The start of the LT100 is the most bizarre thing ever as you hear the shotgun go off… and then you sit there.  And sit some more.  I checked my Garmin and we didn’t move for nearly 2 minutes after the start of the race.  It was almost 5 minutes before I actually crossed the timing mat at the starting line.  Not what I’m use to for sure!  I was worried about the start with over 2000 people, most who are not competitive cyclists by any means and not use to fast group riding.  Luckily once I crossed the starting line I was able to rapidly start picking off hundreds of people.  Literally hundreds!

Once upon the dirt there were moments of frustration as everyone would come to a stop on every little tiny incline on the road.  Time for more passing, and more passing, and some more passing.  A gal I befriended on Facebook gave me the advice of “pass 600 people and you’ll do fine,” so I was on the path to do exactly that.  I really wanted to clear the St Kevin’s climb, which starts about 5 miles in, without walking.  Walking is usually “necessary” due to all the people, but I hate walking very rideable, “mild” climbs.  I watched as people would bobble and fall over on 2″ high baby head rocks, and I was worried I’d have to come off the bike… but thank goodness for sketchy line choices and good bike skills, and I was motoring past people when I could, and patiently track standing when I had to!  Not a step was taken off the bike the entire St Kevin’s climb!!  Traffic thinned out significantly as I got to the top of that climb, and I speedily descended down.

Sugarloaf climb also went awesome, and I continued just motoring past everyone crawling on the smoothest line by taking the rough rocky lines.  I had a pace chart on my top tube, and I knew I was covering ground pretty darn fast.  I really didn’t give second thought to if my pace was too much, as the climbs felt ok to me and I never felt redlined.  I was drinking my Tailwind quite well and also took a gel before Sugarloaf for an extra boost.  The Powerline descent went ok… I took it slowly and smoothly, and soon was flying to the Pipeline aid station, where I had the crew from Peloton Cycles to assist me.

With a pee break, and a refill of my Camelback I was on my way out of Pipeline.  I decided to have a Stinger Waffle, and struggled to get it down, and suddenly puked it back up around mile 29.  My stomach turned and felt weird, but I just kept motoring on, though I also stopped drinking as much, as it didn’t seem appealing.  There was a single track descent between two road sections (wait, it’s the ONLY single track in the whole darn race), and on a straight stretch I managed to crash… I have no idea how or why.  A bunch of guys asked if I was alright, and I was except I was super embarrassed that I, Ms. Mountain Biker in a Roadie Dirt Road Race, managed to crash on single track.  I got back on and kept on motoring.  Coming into Twin Lakes aid station I knew I needed to try to get some food in me, but knew fruit would be about the only thing I would be able tolerate.  I decided to skip neutral and go to the second Peloton tent and ask for a banana… which they didn’t have.  Since anything process turned my stomach I just headed out to start the Columbine climb.

I’m not sure anything prepares anybody for the horror and hell of the Columbine climb.  For years I’ve always heard “blah blah blah Laramie Enduro is harder than Leadville.  Blah blah blah 40 in the Fort is harder than Leadville.”  UMM… NO!  There is NOT a 3300 foot climb over 7 miles in either of those races! Yes, Laramie Enduro is harder in the sense you actually have to be a mountain biker to handle the course, but never do you have the hell anywhere near what Columbine is like!  I think this was one of my fatal mistakes, believing that the Laramie Enduro was truly harder.  Anyways… hell.  The two way traffic already started before I started the climb, though I was far ahead of any cuts and about on a 11 hour pace when I started (both male and female course records would fall).  Mentally I just could not prepare to spend 2 hours and 19 minutes climbing 7 miles, and I couldn’t handle it… and I love climbing.  I stopped a few times and cried.  I debated turning around.  I felt sick of my stomach.  At tree line where the goat trail starts I began having breathing difficulties.  I have no respiratory history, so I found it quite scary to be wheezing and gasping for air all the while hyperventilating.  I was walking my bike, wheezing, gasping, and moist coughing (mmmm pulmonary edema) when I saw Ken Chlouber perched upon his ATV.  I mouthed “I can’t breathe” to him with an expression of terror, and to my horror he laughed and said, “That’s how we designed this race.  Keep moving, little girl.  Dig deep!”  I swear if I could breathe and had the energy he would’ve had a 25 pound Specialized Epic flying at his head.

At this point it was a hike a bike, and strangely enough it felt good to walk and stretch my leg muscles while moving at a whopping 1.9 mph, even though I couldn’t breathe.  But I was mentally in the pits.  I was planning on quitting on the top.  Which logically would make no sense as they don’t have any support to get you back so I would’ve had to ride down.  But whatever, it was my plan.  I was getting annoyed by people around me, and got snappy with a guy behind me who said, “We’re almost there!”  We were still 2 miles from the top, which I pointed out to him.  He shut up.  2 miles meant over an hour.  (Also, if I hear the term “Dig deep” once more in my life I will strangle someone… just saying)  Trudge trudge trudge.  Of all the “death marches” I’ve ever thought I’ve been on in a ride or a race, they just didn’t compare.  This is why the Columbine climb was a good victory for me… there will never be anything I’ll run into in a standard XC race that will ever be as brutal… it has a way of making everything else seem like child’s play.

I came into the aid station still on an 11 hour split, got some Coke and immediately just broke down and sobbed.  I had about 5 or so volunteers around me, hugging me, holding my bike, and shoving all sorts of food in my face which made me want to puke just at the sight of them.  I agreed to watermelon, which went down ok, and then asked for some of the ramen soup they had.  I drank down a cup and felt energized.  One of the volunteers pointed out I was still on an amazing pace.  So I begrudgingly took off, nervous for the descent.  It’s rocky and loose on top, and then just steep dirt roads.  I’m a wimpy descender, so needless to say I stayed in control but completely cooked my rear rotor and brand new rear brake pads.  I passed by Ken on the way down… he yelled out “Hey, there you are!” and I replied “I’ve called you every bad name in the book on my way up!” and he laughed with a smile and said “Go get your buckle!”

I was feeling a lot more positive since the ramen (yay, saved by ramen at 12,500 feet!) and then about 0.5 miles from Twin Lakes I heard a metallic twang and a guy behind me yelled out “Hey, you broke a spoke!”  Oh, of course my bike would decide to go break itself once I was finally not starving!  The guy stopped with me since he said he was a bike mechanic, and wound it around another spoke so it wouldn’t be flying around, but told me no way could I finish without destroying my wheel.  Geez, thanks for a great reason to stop!  I pulled into the Peloton crew and the mechanic trued it up a bit and told me it should be ok.  By then my ramen high was wearing off, my back was cramped, and my knees felt like inflamed watermelons, and I knew I had about 10 miles or so to debate what I would do.  I knew what was coming after Pipeline, and frankly, I had no interest in riding it.  And it wasn’t Powerline that I was dreading, it was actually the several miles of road climbing up to Carter Lake.  I had no desire to ride a full suspension mountain bike up a paved climb.  Weird, I know, as everyone thinks Powerline is the worse.  Tossed me a road bike, and I would’ve finished.  Maybe.

Funny enough, I was still on a low 11 hour pace.  I was still going pretty darn quick.  I rode with a guy the last few miles back into Pipeline, and he was shocked to hear that I was quitting because I was dropping him on the climbs.  But I was done.  I would look down and see the rear wheel wobbling (albeit not that badly) between my legs, and figured it was just good to stop while I was still not needing medical intervention and the bike was not needing expensive repairs.  I thought about the final 3 XC races I have coming up this week, and knew my heart was in finishing those fast and strong, not trudging up pavement.  I pulled into the tent at Pipeline at 73.5 miles and into Chris’ hug, crying.  He nodded and understood that I was done.  I could barely get my leg off and over my bike, and when I took my pack off my back cramped up even worse.  It took a hour or so and a couple of Aleve before I could straighten my knees.  I curled up in one of the camp chairs and just watched the action go by.  First text was to my coach, who I felt like I was letting down.  I mean, I had about 30 miles to go.  I was shocked at the number of racers still flying by.  I felt like I was in the bottom few, and really… I wasn’t.  Second text was to my boyfriend.  I opened up my phone and saw a text from him saying “You’re flying!” and it brought on more tears as I felt for a few moments that I was letting everyone down.  I just DNF’d a race I was actually doing well at…

Alan offered to set me up on his bike so I could finish but I refused.  I sat in the chair for two hours until time cut, and then walked down and had my wrist band cut off and timing chip removed.  I got some funny looks when I explained I had been there for two hours waiting to time cut myself.

So yeah… that was my LT100 experience.  I do have moments when I’m like, “dang, I should’ve finished!” but I have a lot more moments that are happy I pulled the plug.  I didn’t even drink a liter of water in a good 4 hours or so and only had that dixie cup of ramen to eat.  When you’re getting physically destroyed, it’s harder to stay together mentally for sure!  (I had another guy tell me “You looked like warmed over death on the top of Columbine, glad to see you’re ok and still riding” a little past Twin Lakes… ok, I must’ve looked really bad.)  Overall, I rode for 7 hours 55 minutes and 73.5 miles.

Now for some random thoughts:

• I met Rebecca Rusch!
  
• The Leadville Hostel was… not my cup of tea.  Great to be a few blocks from the starting line, but the noise made for a lack of sleep I couldn’t handle.  And I’m kinda an anti-social being, especially after physically and mentally endeavors like endurance mountain bike racing.
• If I’m paying $400 to race you better give me more than a kids’ size portion of spaghetti at the pre-race dinner.  I’m talking to you, LT100!
• There’s some beautiful scenery, and I missed nearly all of it because I was too busy suffering to look around.  I didn’t even take a photo on Columbine because I was too busy melting down.
  
• Overall, LT100 feels like you’re in one big informercial trying to sell you stuff.  Very, if not too, corporate, commercialized, and hokey.
• The spectators and volunteers are amazing, however!  My favorite was a little girl who yelled, “Keep it up, polka dots!”  (I was wearing my polka dot gloves)
• Annika Langvad kicked some major ass!  She was a red blur going by on Columbine!  Great to see her break the 7 hour barrier!
• Full suspension.  Enough said.  I was wrongly told by the Internet (aka LT100 group on Facebook) that seemingly if you’re not on a hardtail you’ll be super slow and lose time.  I smartly listened to my gut and rode full suspension, which I am thankful for as the course is super rough!  And ummm, the top pros, including Annika, were on full suspension.  I do what Annika does.  😉
• I came home with four new Purist water bottles.  I have an addiction
  
• Berry Oreos are good.  Butter croissants are even better to fill you up after a lack of spaghetti
• I met some new people, and made a new friend, Mary Beth, who lives in New York.  She invited me to come stay.
• All the teenagers in Leadville have piercings and funny colored hair.  Or so it seems.
• After riding a bike for nearly 8 hours and not eating all day, when I get to a Subway when my appetite finally returns to the point I can try some processed food, I can’t recall what lettuce is called.  I had to grunt and point at it.  Seriously, mentally fried.
• The finish line is flat looking in photos.  It’s actually a horrible hill.  I rode the last 10 mile stretch twice in the days leading up to the race.  Yeah, be prepared to climb.
• I don’t get how they time cut people and then provide them with no way back to the town of Leadville.  I heard they tell a lady at Pipeline when she asked, “I don’t know, call someone.”  What if you didn’t have someone to call??  A lot of people travel to this race alone and don’t have a crew.  Luckily I had a crew (played a part in my decision to stop at Pipeline for sure), but that still doesn’t sit well for me.  Take responsibility for the racers you time cut.
• Unfortunately, this is the first year a participant lost their life during the race, Scott Ellis.  He was on the Peloton Cycles team, so teammate to many of my friends.  55 years old, 19th time doing LT100, and had a heart attack on the top of Powerline inbound.  I’m still digesting how I feel about it.

Ok ok ok… so what’s the verdict?  Will be there a big redemption push like there was for the Laramie Enduro?  No.  It’s simply too expensive and not interesting enough for me to return.  I will consider the Leadville Stage Race, as it’s more my pace of things – but once again the cost is a major factor and there’s just so many other events I could do… like 11 cyclocross races for the price of the one stage race.  But I am fine skipping the hoopla that is the Leadville Trail 100.  I consider it a check off my bucket list, and I got to experience the craziness of it for a few days, and do some cool stuff and meet some cool people!  And I still had my victories during the race, such as climbing St Kevins and Sugarloaf like a beast, and pushing myself up Columbine when it could’ve been so easy to turn around.  Like I mentioned earlier, these events have a great method of changing your perspective when doing other races, so now I will push that much harder on my shorter races, as I know it’s not going to be nearly as bad!

Here’s a round of up my split times:

Redemption Day: August 1, 2015.

Ken Chlouber of Leadville fame gives a pep talk the day before LT100, and there’s a new video making the rounds where he’s talking about how the pain of a race only lasts however many hours the race is, but the pain of a DNF lasts until you can come back and redeem yourself.  The Laramie Enduro this year was very much about that… well, it was only about redeeming myself (and perhaps figuring out nutrition for LT100).  If there’s one day on the bike that pissed me off the most, it was DNF-ing the Laramie Enduro in 2013.

I won’t lie, it was hard this year.  It hurt, sometimes very badly.  I’m pretty sure around mile 12 or 14 I was thinking about just stopping.  I had a good start, climbed well and faster than it seemed I had before.  Racing open women has it’s perks in that the course was really clear so the first section of single track I didn’t have to worry about traffic and racers that couldn’t make the one long steep climb (and the few that walked moved quickly out of the way).  I sat in 5th place until shortly after Aid 1.  I was getting concerned because my heart rate was never dropping below 175-180bpm, and I knew that was just too much to sustain for this race length, even though it felt like I was pacing myself well and trying to spin easier gears.  Then I started to get giddy inside that I was actually going to finish this race and finally be able to throw out this piece of baggage.

I pulled into Aid 2 and a volunteer ran off with my camelback to refill it as I stood there feeling useless – this event has AMAZING volunteers to say the least.  She said I had drank 3/4 of the 100oz bladder, which I was happy to hear.  I decided to give Tailwind the final trial as my main nutrition source.  Overall I consumed about 6 liters of water with 18 scoops of Tailwind, two half banana slices, two slices of watermelon, 3 Endurolyte tablets,  and two Honey Stinger gels!  Anyways, I was quickly back on my way to enjoy the speedy downhill and tailwind to Aid 3.  I crossed the half way point of 35 miles at 3 hours 13 minutes (including stopped time), and I couldn’t believe how fast it was all going by!

I came into Aid 3 and the volunteers told me I was in 4th place.  Now mind you, I really had no idea where I was at this point, and I wasn’t “racing” the race.  I was actually annoyed they told me, as it changed the dynamic for me from “just finish” to “hmmm, maybe try to do well.”  Tim came up to me and told me “Barb is coming for you!” and that added stress.  Dammit, do I actually have to race now?!  After a quick watermelon slice and dumping some Tailwind into my water I had refilled at Aid 2, I was on my way, determined to not let any other open women catch me.

I came up to the 701GA climb and sternly looked it in the eye and said “701GA, you killed my mojo in 2013.  Prepare to die.”  Because that’s the only logical thing to say to a rutted out, eroded forest service road, right?!  I walked this climb in 2013, and this year I spun my granny gear all the way to the top.  I think I was smiling… which I’m sure everyone would shake their head at as nobody likes 701GA.  Whatever, I did this year!  I also chatted up every cow I saw on course, which was about… several hundred.  People commented that they had issues with the cows moving for them, but I just politely asked the cows to move and they did.  Not only do I talk to forest service roads and threaten to kill them, I’m also a cow whisperer.

Things continued to go well and soon enough the bits of single track were over and it was time for another never ending grind on double track and primitive roads up to Aid 4.  Aid 4… my nemesis.  The point where I called my parents to come pick me up in 2013.  As long as I moved my bike past Aid 4 I knew my day was complete.  I got an amazing surprise as I came up to the road crossing and saw Jim on the side of the road, there to surprise me!  I’m not kidding when I say I almost peed my pants in happiness!  Few sips of cold water and a hug, and he set me off on my way with a “you’re in 6th or 7th” place! I just lost it.  Seeing Aid 4, seeing him, feeling the support, I bawled all the way to the aid station.  Goodness endurance mountain biking turns me into a mush ball!

Quick refill of the Camelbak at Aid 4 and I set off.  OK, here it goes… 18 miles left!  The Laramie Enduro is a mean bitch, though, as she puts all the hardest stuff in the last 18 miles.  Because there’s nothing like having to have technical skills at mile 65 of a 68 mile race… The first few miles went OK, but soon stuff turned into long conga line hike-a-bikes up steep hills, and then not so steep hills.  It was hot, hovering around 90 degrees with no wind.  I actually complained about there not being wind!  Also the swear words and name calling of hills began.  Aid 4 to Aid 5 on the course is simply mental demoralizing (and for some, physically demoralizing, too).  My granny gear became intolerable to turn over and I felt ruined.  Nonetheless, I repeated “Keep moving” in my head, whether it was on foot or on bike.  I stopped on one rutted out hill that bucked me off course and cried for 10 seconds out of frustration and then ate a gel for a bit of a caffeine boost.  It seemed like Aid 5 would never come, and of course you had to climb a bunch to get there.

Jim was waiting for me at Aid 5, and of course I started crying again as he hugged me and gave me more cold water before shooing me back on my bike.  Six miles was left… a horrid six miles.  Jim drove behind me on Headquarters Rd up to the trailhead for motivation and then I waved goodbye as I turned onto Headquarters Trail. The most frustrating part of the rest of the course is that I’m super familiar with it all. I ride and race on it all the time.  I know how fast I can ride each part.  Headquarters Climb is a toughy, but I’ve always cleared it.  I found myself walking and it was humbling because I know what I normally can do, but with 65 miles under my belt I knew what was suddenly impossible, but it bothered me terribly that it was impossible.  I dragged myself and bike up the climb, step after step, finally remounting at the junction with Browns Landing.  OK, mostly downhill from here.  But technical.  Ugh.  I felt like I was going so slow, and I really was in all honesty.

I got caught on a root on a small kicker and fell over and just sat in the trail for a minute or two.  It felt good to sit.  I hadn’t sat all day on something other than a bike seat!  But I knew I had to get it over with because it was so close to the finish.  I tried to power on as much as I could, and soon I was descending the single track to the trailhead and down the dirt road to the finish line.  Funny enough, I had been pushing the granny gear slowly for the past two hours, and yet I was turning the big chain ring and almost my hardest gear sprinting down the finishing straight.  Ummm, really?!

7 hours 43 minutes 36 seconds.  6th Place Open Women.

I did it 🙂

I crossed the line and looked around and felt lost.  It was all over.  A guy who knew me through a friend came over and asked how I did and I started crying.  Nice impression I made on him, I’m sure.  It was overwhelming but so relieving.  That’s it… the DNF Pain of 2013 was gone.  I came back and kicked the course’s ass and proved that I could do it – it took me 7 hours to reach Aid 4 in 2013, and 7 hours and 43 minutes to do the whole damn thing this year!  Now it was time for staring down food not sure I could eat it (I wasn’t hungry), wondering when I’d finally pee, and to double fist a beer in one hand and a lemonade in another!

Two weeks before what will be the hardest day on a bike for me I squashed the mental demons that taunted me since July 2013.  I’m so happy it’s over.  I have no plans for another Laramie Enduro because I feel like my work is done for now.  I am happy with how the day went, especially since it came at the end of the week of my transition to night shift and a couple of missed workouts and not a single day on a bike over 5 hours all year.  It’s been hard to keep my mental drive going this late into the summer, as I’m use to calling it quits after a nationals in mid-July, but this was a good boost and also foreshadowing of what’s to come during the LT100.  Goodness, I can’t wait to return to strictly XCO racing next year!