Race #135: 6 Hours of Good Mojo!

Photos by Jamie Clifton Images and Karen WH

Months ago I dreamed that I might have a chance to win this. My friend Marty has owned this for years but I felt if I had a good day and he had a bad day that I might have a chance. Then I remembered Brent. Brent is from a motorcross background, and when he rides it likes he is in another league — like he has little motors in his legs. Last year he was fourth but it was only because John Bryan was his first endurance race. This year Brent has been hanging with the pros in all the NUE races. So second place or third again, right? No pressure.

Luck was on my side that day. I picked a good place to drop my bike for the Le Mans start. I ran quickly, not going out too hard, Spencer was ahead and grabbed his bike. This perfectly opened up a spot for me to run through with my bike. I wheelsucked Gary Lunsford for a sec and jumped into the woods in third place. The first lap was really muddy, my crossmark rear tire fish tailing everywhere. I kept waiting for people to catch and pass me. I just tried to ride well, keep it smooth and stay upright. I kept it steady and emerged from the woods still in third with Brent ahead of me and 1 Male Duo team member just in front of me.

I was pretty much alone for a lot of the race. Just pushing myself trying not to lose too much ground to Brent. I thought he was 10 minutes in front if me.

I was approaching the race like a long time trial. In years past I have focused on completing fast laps, then doing recovery laps. But this year I changed my tactic by attacking and recovering in the same sections each lap. This made my lap times more consistent.

So in the middle of the race I caught Brent. Brent was single speed and he chose a very hard gear to push in the wetter conditions. I know if he was fully geared he would have won that day, although he is kind enough to say otherwise. We rode together for a few minutes, but I became worried that we would be caught. I had no clue who my competition was!

So I pressed ahead and felt that pride you feel when your wheel is in front. It used to make me nervous and I would l ride too hard and wreck. But I was confident in my consistent lap times and I was feeling great! Wow, I rarely have mojo this good!

I was trying to beat my time from 2011 but the muddy start slowed me down a bit. I chose consistency over flooring it and it paid off!

I can't but feel this may be one of the last wins I get. I am grateful for it, and I am grateful to have shared it with friends. Jeni, Darrin, Brent, Bjet and I enjoyed some BBQ and a bit of beer after!

Race #125: Longest race of my Life!

Photo by

More like 12 Hours of Capitol Punishment!
Write ups on this and Mohican coming soon...

Here are the approximate splits I recorded during the race:
Lap 1 (11.2mi + Le Mans start run around a baseball field): 0:56:36
Lap 2 (22.4): 0:56:09
Lap 3 (33.6): 0:56:31
Pit Stop: 0:00:58 — quick swap of 50ml CamelBacks
Lap 4 (44.8): 0:59:40
Lap 5 (56.0): 1:01:36
Pit Stop: 0:02:51 — Extra water, lubed chain, switched to bottles of Infinit, washed up with cold water and re-applied sunscreen
Lap 6 (67.2): 1:04:24
Pit Stop: 0:01:10 — Extra water in drained bottle, used to drink and pour over head on climb
Lap 7 (78.4): 1:11:35
Pit Stop: 0:06:07 —  Extra water, lubed chain, switched bottles of Infinit, washed up with cold water

Lap 8 (89.6): 1:08:21

Pit Stop: 0:01:14 — Extra water in drained bottle, used to pour over head on climb

Lap 9 (100.8): 1:12:14

Pit Stop: 0:04:12 — Extra water, switched bottle, washed up with cold water

Lap 10 (112): 1:03:59 — Really tried to fly through it, feeling like I was being chased!

It's Gold Baby!

Sweet! I'm the Ohio State Cyclocross Champion, of dudes aged 35-39. Champagne and hookers all night! Okay, maybe not. But I DO have Tom Boonen's haircut.

Race #75: Whistling Dixie

I caught a ride with Matthew Stierwalt down to General Butler State Park in Corrolton, Kentucky. This park brings back fond memories of Bridget getting back into the sport that she loves, back in 2003 when it felt like we were just kids fresh out of college. She had raced there in the late 90s, when mountain biking was epic. Here is a BioWheels race report about Bike Butler back in the day. Matthew raced there as well back in the day, on a Bianci Forté with Look clipless pedals better served for the road and a suspension fork that would have made a better pogo stick.

Prelap:
I lined up and realized this was my first real race of the year. There wasn't much bumping shoulders on single track in the Death March. I was glad to shake some of the racing cobwebs off a week before Mohican. Butch, Marty, Matt and I went for a warm up lap, it was only 5 miles but there was a fair amount of mud and areas where conditions would deteriorate over the course of the race. It was funny, I found that the granny gear was the best choice for all the muddy climbing.

Lap 1:
The race started fairly fast. I was about 5th or 6th into the trail with Marty and Matt just behind. I kept gunning it and was holding Rusty's wheel so I wouldn't create a gap. I was very happy to be within 2 bike lengths of Rusty and another guy from Backwoods Racing within the first quarter lap — those guys from Louisville are freakin' fast. What I didn't realize was that I was slowly going anaerobic — with all the oxygen going to my muscles and evacuating the ole bird brain. About that time I hit a sloppy, muddy downhill going really fast. Well I ate it really hard with my head hitting the ground and my handlebars twisted backward. It took me a few seconds to pull the bars off — leaving a huge scratch on my top tube! I jumped back on and wouldn't you know it — my chain had dropped too! Marty and Matt passed me as I was getting the chain back on. I caught up to them and we formed a Cincinnati chase group. Matt was setting a steady pace as I tried to catch my breath. I was still so full of adrenaline I wanted to ride 20 mph, but I knew unless I settled down I would crash again. So we hung together in a little paceline for about half a lap. At one point I passed Marty where my poor handling must have drove him crazy! We hit an open marshy section and I decided to raise the pace and try to hunt down any Louisville rider I could. I created a gap and I wanted to see if I could beat Marty for once in my life, I thought I would take advantage of an opportunity while I had it. But Marty wasn't feeling his best that day.

Lap 2:
Still riding like a newbie. Slowing down. Fearing my comrads coming from behind. Marty's stem broke and he had to DNF. He was shouting out that I was 3rd or something. I didn't believe him, and i didn't want to get my hopes up — but then I remembered there was both a Pro AND an Expert class. Hmm... I started to get siked and dreamt of podiums and champaign.

Lap 3:
Smooth sailing! Cleaned everything! Settled down and rode like a real mountain biker, riding a tight-rope up the edges of the trail on the muddy uphills. I was so proud. The marshes were getting nasty, and I swear I could smell stagnant horse poop in the water AND IT WAS SPLASHING ON MY BOTTLES!

Lap 4:
Chain suck! I had to switch it into the middle ring and muscle it out. I passed a BikeClicks guy cramping on the ground (from all the mud) and I felt like a cramp coming on. The second half of the lap I was trying to gun it as much as I could — thinking teammate Karwash or another rider would come from behind and steal my potential podium.

Finale:
So the South won this battle. Backwoods and other Louisville riders took the first four spots, I came in 5th. But I think I might have been third in the Expert class, but what I didn't know was that I was FIRST in the 30-39 age group. It feels a bit cheap but I got paid some sweet money and this is my first win since November of 2009, 44 races ago. But in all reality, getting fifth in this field and third in Expert is a major result for me.

The South also won in another way. I got the shits — I think from that nasty marsh water on my water bottles. Would this be known as General Butler's revenge?

Races #28 and 29: My Lucky #2 a.k.a. First to Worst

Commuting home Friday night I felt really good. For many weeks now I feel really tight and somewhat hindered by fatigue.

The coarse was really fun. It was at Indian Caverns on the northside of Columbus, kind of this campy field trip destination. There was a miniature pioneer village and part of the course crossed a creek on a small wooden bridge where a skeleton was in a rowboat!

It was an all around power course where you had to be able to power the flats as well as climb some hills, one being pretty steep. I'm still running a 42 chainring up front and my mud tires are on a wheelset with a 12-25 cassette — so some of the steep sections can really kick my butt. I tend to prefer to spin at a higher cadence and I don't feel like I have a lot of high end power. There was also a fun woody singletrack section with a tight bridge crossing.

I started out pretty good in the B race. I was about in 4th heading into the single track. Two rided bombed around me at the last second — some pretty badass aggressive riding that I really respected. Then halfway through the single track my back tire hit an unseen root and slid out. I lost four to five more places!

Over the next lap or so I clawed my way back up to a small pack of riders and was back into fourth place. I had to power through the flats and really push myself on the hill. I was within 15 - 20 seconds of the leading rider from Jeni's Ice Cream when suddenly a rider from B1 launched an attack. He gapped us quickly, maybe gaining 30 seconds.

I worked my way into second and was just barely hanging in there when we passed the leading rider — his pedal fell out! Through the next section I wanted to see if the other riders wanted to work together — but one guy was pretty vocal about not doing that. So I positioned myself to be the leading rider into the single track. I opened the gap as soon as we hit the faster sections and had a lap where I held a 20 second lead and tried to take a break preparing for the final laps.

Maybe I was relaxing too much, the second place rider launched this awesome attackon the hill section to bridge up to me. I could hear him breathing hard so I knew I decided to reopen my lead while he was still tired. I pulled away after the barriers and reopened my lead and just maintained it. On the last lap I nearly wrecked on the wooden bridge — I could have ruined my race and potentially have gotten injured!

At the end of the race I knew I was lucky, who knows if that B1 rider would have won without the pedal failure but he looked really strong.

My day wasn't over yet. I decided to race the A race too. I had given my all in the B race and I was really scared my legs would seize up but I still did it. I pretty much blew up halfway into the first lap and I raced alone for 99% of the race. Aside from getting some miles in my legs it proved to be a pretty bad idea. I had to learn somehow!

Also, I need to pick up a 38 or 39 before the end of the season, I think my legs will thank me for it!

Race #25: Victory Tastes as Sweet as Pumpkin Pie

First, I want to say a huge thanks to John at Biowheels and Lane at the Trek Store for getting my bike back in working order. I tore the derailleur hanger off my Redline and John speedily got me a new one, while Lane made sure my bike was race ready and the hanger I reinstalled wasn't going to fall off!

Okay, so sometimes I am a weight weenie. It just doesn't make sense to eat garbage then go out and spend $20 to $30 on a race if you have to lug around extra pounds — the same amount of weight Dentists would pay $3000 to drop off their bikes. But, Bridget has been baking pumpkin pies like they are going out of style. Who could resist? So I've been packing it in — gaining four or five pounds before this race.

Bridget and I drove up to Columbus to our beloved CapCity series where there was a Halloween race at Uncle Steve's (a wonderful host, birthday boy and great patron of the peloton). My first race in the CapCity series went well and I was able to score ninth. I was extremely happy with that result. But going into this race I was at least four pounds heavier than I should be with a lot of the course uphill! I just want to sneak inside the top ten and hopefully be in the top ten in points for the series at the end of the year.

All costumes wearers got a front line call up. I love this series because they keep the races fun. The guy in front of me was wearing a huge diaper — but I remember seeing him gaining spots in the gutter in a road race and from cross races last year — so hopefully he was a strong starter. Nada. The big baby couldn't clip in! I was boxed in and practically riding backwards.

Then I became the big baby and made a pissed off pouty face as I passed Bjet. But suddenly I channeled my distress into my racing. Instead of cautiously waiting to pass I bombed into turns on the inside like some sort of BMX/F1 racer out of control! I was having a blast.

Suddenly it appeared that there were only four riders ahead of me. But, maybe there were time gaps and ten more riders were ahead of them. So like any normal race I asked the giant mustard bottle what place I was in.

Coming around the other direction the giant mustard bottle, or Dan, let me know I was in fifth. WHOA! I can't believe I was in fifth! Gaps began to form. I bobbled a bit and my handlebars caught a tree in a muddy section.

The mustard bottle shouted at me to get busy, stop sitting on people's wheels.

So I attacked up to the second place rider or Aquaman's wheel and felt gassed. You make deals with your legs... "Stop riding so hard. Just sit here. You haven't been on a podium before. Third is all you need. Sleepy..." But the next lap I felt rejuvinated and made a move on an incline.

More encouragement from the mustard bottle.

I bridged the 20 second gap onto the first place rider's wheel. My tired legs wanted to make deals again but felt strong going up another hill (to be fair I didn't realize that he, Layne, has a single speed). I went to take a pull as to not suck wheel and opened a gap.

The mustard bottle told me he was a strong finisher and I better put him away. Remembering my foibles at the end of the Dark Horse UCI race and a random Sven Nys clip on YouTube I decided I better open a gap than try to sprint.

Here is where the mustard bottle became a sadist. He spurred me on, his words like a whip across a mule's back, never letting me rest. I would push myself like crazy upon seeing him and would have to cool myself down so I didn't get so exhausted that I would make a mistake and crash. I came across the line surrounded by friends (Andy Johnson as an enormous little girl in PJs!) and tried not to puke all over them!

The win was also pretty cool because I got to know so many more people in the CapCity series. People like Layne, Mark and Tim that I hope to see year round at road and mountain bike races.

I really want to thank Dan. I haven't been "coached" since I was a teen and it's amazing how a fresh mind helps push you when you are oxygen deprived.

Now maybe I'll be less of a weight weenie.