So the tour of park city August 1, 2009 will go down as my most epic ride....ever. Hopefully I never have a repeat of the epicness of how it turned out. I was using this race (170 miles) as a training race for LOTOJA. The night before the race, Lee, Tanner and I rode about 25 miles of the canyon leading away from Coalville and I felt not rested after driving 12 hours two days before from California. I could tell the elevation was also going to be a factor as my HR was spiking and we weren't even pushing it.
After a hearty dinner at Pizza Hut, we headed to our Marriott room for the night. I hit the sack at about midnight (bad idea) and laid there for the next four hours waiting for my alarm to go off so I could get this day started. I really felt like I didn't sleep at all. Up at four, we ate some food and headed to the race start. My start time was set for 6:05 AM, just behind the 1-2 group. However, at the start line, the race official indicated that they were going to start the 1-2-3 group together - so long as no 3s didn't object. Well, nobody did so we were off all together at about 6:15. I sometimes think starting with the 1-2s isn't that bad since the 3s sort of take their place in the pack and don't get too frenzied from the get go. I felt good and we rolled along, I made some small talk with one of the racers and told him I was doing this as a training race for LOTOJA. He looked at me and said, "this is a lot harder than LOTOJA." I figured he was just trying to get in my head so I blew it off...Turn out, he was dead on. My strategy of not drinking a lot before the race was paying off, I didn't need to stop for a potty break while everyone else was showing their skills at going on the bike. Again, I felt pretty good considering the altitude and the faster group. I made it to the first feed zone (25 miles) and Lee was there to give me my own bottle (thanks Lee!). Soon after the first feed zone we started heading up the canyon towards Evanston. This was a beautiful canyon with a meandering road the stair stepped its way higher and higher. Just before the second feed zone (mile 50) I ran out of gas. My legs felt good but I didn't eat enough in the first 25 miles and just dropped off the back. At this point, I was alone with no cars or riders ahead or behind - within sight. It was at this point that my day was about to get longer. Apparently, there was a turn that I missed on the road. The problem was there were no markings, cars, race officials - nothing. I presumed I was on the correct road because about 5 minutes into this new section, I was passed in the opposite direction by a race official. I figured if I was on the wrong road, he would have told me. Soon after, two masters riders came up behind and asked me if this was the right road and I said I didn't know. After about 35 minutes of riding up a very bad dirt road, the race official returned honking his horn. He stopped and proceeded to tell me that I was "way off course." Thanks! How can I expect to know the course if the race official that passed me didn't even know the course. At this point, I was very frustrated and started making my way back to the correct turning point. When I arrived at the turn I had a few "words" with the race officials there and they confessed that the corner had not been marked properly. Time to put frustration aside, I thought. I just started riding on the course a bit dejected. After I made it through the dirt road section I was informed that a motorcycle would be escorting me and the two masters riders for a while. That was great news! We stuck on his wheel all the way to Evanston. The bad part was the motorcycle wouldn't let us get too close so we ended up using a lot of energy staying with him. By the time I hit Evanston, I was spent. At the 3rd feed zone, I was expecting a full support feed. Not the case. I was offered a half a banana and water and sport drink. I quickly ate all that I had been given and tried to re-hydrate. Bad sign - I was hungry. This is really where the race started to bite. The race profile, at this point, shows a climb for the next 45 miles. I was riding alone again and put my head down and caught up with another solo rider. We rode together for 20 miles or so and I finally asked him if he had any food he could spare. Luckily he did. A turkey sandwich and a peanut roll. It really was a life saver at this point. We made it to the next feed zone and got a "full service" feed with all the stuff you need. From here on the climb up to Bald Mt really started to bite. I felt ok so I kept going and started to get into a rhythm on the climb. Unfortunately, my bottom bracket started making a knock sound and the next time Lee drove by I asked him to stop. We did a quick assessment and determined the BB was loose and that he didn't have a tool to fix it. He offered up his bike and I swapped shoes and lowered the seat and I was on my way to the summit of 10,600 feet. Got to the summit with Tanner (he had caught me) and we stopped at the penultimate feed zone for some Pro Bars and fluid. I was excited because now it was just an easy descent to the finish 45 miles below - so I thought. I headed down the mountain feeling rejuvenated and relieved to be over the mountain. I had to keep singing the P-Funk song, "Got to get over the hump" in my head so I didn't let up. At the last feed zone I was still feeling ok - a bit hungry but I thought I could finish on fumes since I no longer had a desire to eat or drink. I rode into Kamas and felt decent and realized there was a sizable climb out of Kamas. I really struggled up this climb. I was in the lowest gear I could find and I was doing a delicate balancing act between farts and sharts. Did not want a disaster on my hands. At the top of that climb I thought it was all over and it was going to be an easy descent into P. City. When I saw the climb out of Jordonelle I thought I was going to cry. But it was just one more climb I though and I put er in the easy gear and grannied my way up it. At this point, I was feeling completely spent, dehydrated and all I could think of was finishing and laying down on some nice green grass. After that climb I knew I was going to be fine and so I pushed it a bit the last 5 miles. When I came around the corner for the finish line I was able to see my family and that was nice. I crossed and road back over to them and got off the bike and I was greeted with extremely bad cramps. I still didn't want to eat or drink and thought the cramps would go away. We took a few pictures and headed to the car and I headed to the port-o-potty. On the way back to the car I stepped over a rope hanging between two poles and when I brought my leg down everything in that leg cramped. I stood still playing my own version of freeze tag. There were people sitting on the sidewalk next to where I was standing so I gingerly made my way to the side of the building. From there I got really light headed and thought I was going to up-chuck so I made a dash to an open sewer drain. I sat on the curb and dry-heaved until all of my abs were hanging out in the same "cramped" situation. I decided to make the cramping stop I should just lay down and so there I was on a sidewalk with lots of people around watching me perform an exorcism on these cramps. A nice guy came up to me and asked if I was OK. I told him, "I don't think so." It was then that Abbie came looking for me and saw me on the ground with all these people around. I was OK I just need to eat something and they found some banana and Gatorade for me and after about 10 minutes I felt a lot better and headed to the car. This race was difficult but the missed corner really made it very difficult. Total time on the bike was 10:22. In hindsight, I just needed to eat more and drink more and I would have felt a lot better.
