I Had A Race

And the only thing I got was this t-shirt.

That was the only photo taken that day too, so bear with me.

Yesterday morning, I got up early to head over to the Uwharrie National Forest for the Rivers Edge Mountain Bike Marathon.  It was really difficult to drag my ass outta bed, but I’ll get into that another time.  I ended up hitting the road solo, because Lunchbox was a little worn out from working the day before.  With rain in the forecast, I thought that it was pretty wise for him to stay home.  I know he’s there for every race I do, but who the hell would want to stand around all day in the rain watching someone attempt to race for 55 miles?

I probably wouldn’t.

Anyway, I got there with plenty of time to spare, got myself registered, and setup my tent.  My pit would turn out to be a community effort, with Good Guy Greg, Big Crom, TomTom and Megan, and Irish Luke using it as a base of operations.  This would be my first attempt at this race, and doing it on a rigid single speed made me a little nervous.  I had no idea if I could even complete that distance at all.  At least it wasn't raining though.

We took off from the start, and I slowly rolled up the fire road to hit the trail.  When the singletrack started, I entered dead last.  That was because I was running a 32X21, but mostly it was my desire to take it easy so I could last the whole time.  Once we hit the first climb though, the “racer” in me took over and I started passing a few people.  It was your normal stop and go race traffic, but it didn’t annoy me this time.  The plan was to have a little fun while I was suffering, and I would try to stick to that no matter what.  It didn’t take too long to finish that first lap, and I crossed the start finish line in a decent amount of time.

I stopped for a few minutes to eat something small and refill my bottle, then I was back in the saddle.  I pushed the pace a little harder this time, because that first lap didn’t seem so bad.  About halfway through it though, my lower back started to hurt…bad.  It was locking up as I mashed my was up a long climb.  Good Guy Greg was right behind me, and near the top I heard him say, “Fuck it.”  He had decided to back off and walk instead of trying to keep up with me, which was unnecessary because I had to hop off my bike right after that.  I couldn’t even stand up straight, and I started to wonder if I could even finish that lap, let alone the whole enchilada.

My day had gone to shit already, it would seem.

I stretched for a few minutes, and I felt like I would be okay to get back on the bike.  I hit the downhills as fast as I could, and it didn’t take long before I started feeling a little better.  I could feel my back getting tight again though, but somehow I managed to finish the lap without walking.  It was at that point that I decided that I wouldn’t give up even if it took me all day.

I took some ibuprofen, stretched a little more, refilled my water bottles, and hit the trail again.  I took it easy on the climbs, and that proved to be a good idea.  I was faster than ever on the downhills, mostly because I knew with my large size I had an advantage there.  The rest of that lap was uneventful (pain-wise anyway), and I crossed the line once again and headed to my pit.

I had already passed the more than halfway point, so I knew there was no turning back.  I refilled my bottle again, grabbed a little bit of food, and after taking a short bathroom break I was ready to go.  However, I think I was there for a long time, because it seems like that stop took forever.  Mentally I was already drained, and I wandered back to my bike in a haze.

I was now on autopilot.

And this is where I leave you today.  With no photos, I won’t make you read more than you can handle.  Hell, I probably lost you already.

See y’all tomorrow.

Birthday, Medic Stuff, and More Bike Racing

First things first. Today is a special day for my son Isaiah, a.k.a. Lunchbox. He’s been with me here on Earth for 14 years now, so we’re getting ready to celebrate. I know, 14 years isn’t a long time, but they have been the best years of my life so far. He’s a great kid, and it’s a privilege to be his dad. Also, I can’t forget to mention all the work he does as the official B-43 photographer. When he’s armed with the camera, he makes sure to capture the action during all of our adventures. Tonight, in his honor, we’ll be heading out to dinner at one of those fancy Japanese flamin’ grill places.




Now, we’ll go back to the River’s Edge Mountain Bike Marathon. After the race started, I figured I would change my clothes and eventually see if I could get out on the trail for a bit. My knee was feeling a little better, so I hoped that I could meander around the course and offer my assistance to any downed/injured riders.


Before I got a chance to walk over to my truck, an injured rider came in. She had fallen on the Figure 8 loop, and dislocated her shoulder. When Little Miss Sunshine and I started helping her, a woman standing next to us asked if there were any medics on the scene. We said, “Yeah, us.” The lady responded by saying that she was a physician. Proper etiquette is to always yield to someone with higher training than you, so we let her take over. A woman who was with her said that she was a CMA (Certified Medical Assistant maybe?), and she tried to step in and help too. As a former EMT and current heart specialist, Little Miss Sunshine found this lady’s lack of knowledge a little disturbing. The whole scene was kind of odd actually, especially since the “doctor” seemed to have quite a bit of trouble getting the shoulder back in place. All we could do was stand by and try to help:



I really wanted to take over, but it wasn’t my place to tell a doctor how to treat a patient. I suffered this exact same injury a year and a half ago, and I had less trouble putting my own shoulder back in place. I knew I could help, but my hands were tied. I mentioned to Little Miss Sunshine that maybe our dear “doctor” was probably a dentist or something. She was part of a coed duo, and she said that her partner would take over when he came in. She seemed more interested in getting out on the course for her lap than anything else (or having someone relieve her from her struggle.) Just then, another rider came in with the same injury (or close anyway.) Little Miss Sunshine tended to him, and did an excellent job. Eventually, both riders will be okay, but their race was over. I decided to hurry up and get out on the trail in case anything else happened out there.


Before I left though, I saw a couple of my racing pals at the start/finish line. Here’s a photo of Rod, the other half of the coed duo that I mentioned yesterday:





Just as I turned around, the Space Cowboy came in from his first lap. I barely got a photo of him, since he was hauling ass and feeling mighty fine:



Here’s Mrs. MadSS coming in from her first lap:



I eventually got out on the course, and I stopped quite a bit. My knee was still hurting, so I camped out every so often to rest it, and to get some photos. Here’s my pal Chad toughing it out on his third lap:



A little while later (in a different location), The MadSS came through on what I think was his last lap. He was almost going too fast for my camera:



While I was out on the trail, I got word that yet another rider went down with a shoulder injury. I raced over to the Green Loop as fast as my knee would allow, completing the 3 mile section in record time. There were a couple of us looking for the downed rider, but we never found him. I guess he managed to get out under his own power. Left without a patient to treat, I headed back to the finish line just in time to catch a few of my friends coming through on their final lap.


Here's the Space Cowboy coming through at a high rate of speed, giving it his best:



When it was all over, some folks managed to grab some free beer before it ran out. The MadSS and his Mrs. were recovering by the man-made river with some frosty brew:



It looked like a fun, yet challenging race. I was bummed that I couldn’t race, but it was good to be out there helping the other racers. I’m proud of all my cycling friends that entered the race. They gave it their all and impressed the shit outta me. Maybe next year I’ll be able to join them for some torture. Until then, I’ll be working on getting my knee (and my bike) back into tip-top shape while I prepare for the next grueling adventure…the Tree Shaker. Oh fun.

Left Out

Today’s post was supposed to be a tale of how I struggled through 50 miles at the River’s Edge Mountain Bike Marathon this past Saturday. With the string of bad luck I’ve been having as of late, I should have known that I wouldn’t be participating. When I woke up early Saturday morning, my knee was swollen so bad that I could hardly walk down the stairs. I applied some Icy-Hot and a knee brace, and hoped that the swelling would go down so I could at least volunteer at the race.


When I got to the U.S. National Whitewater Center, registration was in full swing. Little Miss Sunshine was assisting with pretty much everything, so I decided to take a walk down pit row to visit some of my racing pals. I guess they’ve all been reading about my (lack of) adventures, because everyone asked how my knee was doing. I even received some good-natured ribbing from one of the guys from the Skeleton Crew, which made me chuckle a little bit.


I saw the Space Cowboy and his pit crew, and we chatted about knee ailments for a minute. I told him good luck, and headed down the line to visit the MadSS and his single-speeding wife. They were engaged in their pre-race preparations:







Just then, the MadSS made a mad dash for the woods. I thought maybe he had caught a glimpse of Bigfoot or something, so I hobbled over to where he was standing in hopes that I could film the elusive beast (Bigfoot, not the MadSS.)


False alarm. No Bigfoot in these here parts I guess.


The race was about to start, so I went over to find a good spot for photographs. Yep, that’s right. Instead of racing, I was relegated to taking photos. I would end up doing more important volunteer stuff later though. Until then, here are a few shots from the start of the race:







Number 246 above is Josh from the Skeleton Crew.


Number 281 above is my friend Cathi. She was representing the Coed Duo category with her husband.


Number 177 is my XTERRA mentor, Peter.



Number 352 is the infamous Space Cowboy, and it looks like he was thinking of running me over.



The little happy guy above is Cedric. He was doing the race solo, just like last year. He’s a tough kid, and it’s cool to see him out there mixing it up with the adults. He has a motor that won’t quit.

I’m cutting is short today, even though I still have some interesting stories from the event. It’s Monday, and I really don’t feel like thinking too much. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow with more tales of mountain bike marathon racing.