The Long Hard Road

Not so much a race report... report:

I bought a Norco Jubei 5 years ago after waking up one night with chest pains. I realized how far I had fallen from my years before where I played rugby and any other contact sport.

My first ride, I made it to the end of my street, and I thought... holy s#!t, what am I doing. The next day, I did 5k. Eventually 20km rides were the norm. Then one day I just went out and went till I was exhausted, and came home, thinking "who does this".

I joined a 24h team for HAN after 3 months of riding a bike. On my pre ride, I kept saying to myself "Man you are way out of your league". Every lap that I left on, I felt heavier and heavier. My legs just that much harder to turn over. During my 4th lap, I came across a rider who had blown a pedal. Since I had no clue what to bring with me each lap.. I brought 2 of them. I handed them off. "Thanks Clyde", and I was on my way. ... Clyde?

After the race when I finished my 4th lap I found a quiet place while eating my 3rd McChico, I let the absolution of accomplishment wash over me. It was a rush of emotions.

During the winter, I read up on a few races and bought myself a trainer and did what I could. During this time a friend of mine told me about a buddy who did this race called Paris To Ancaster, and it had a class for big guys... I signed up within an hour.

And I got schooled... it was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was painful, unforgiving. I was bleeding, muddy and in shock. But I finished that sum*****, and the feeling of accomplishment returned, and I was hooked on racing. In the rain, you couldn't see the tears, but I was a proud man, and I resolved myself to get on that podium. It became a consuming goal.

Over the years, I've trained, lost, trained, had mechanicals, trained, got beat, trained harder, crashed... and every year this race would be a burr in my mind for 365 days until my next crack at it.

During that time, I've met a lot of you here. Some in passing, some in racing, and some have become ShlT talking buddies. But any meeting I've had with anyone has been positive, and the words of encouragement got me back on my bike when I figured it was time to just give up.

So yes, I got on the podium yesterday, and yes, it took me 5 years to get to 2nd place. My incredible wife and family's patience with me has been extraordinary and I will remind myself of this daily.

But to my ECMTBR friends, if ever our paths crossed, thank you for being awesome.

So yesterday, after being on the podium, I found myself in a quiet spot, eating my 3rd orange... and the feeling of accomplishment washed over me for the first time in 5 years after my first P2A.

Then and Now

Well. Things have changed since you last saw. I stopped writing because honestly, I had a really good season. Much stronger then 2012, and much less injury prone. I feel that my riding is maturing and my training is starting to take form.

I'll recap my 2013 season:

- I had ridden my first 8h solo. I remember it being tough but satisfied at my attempt, it really showed how far I had come though the first lap jitters saw a minor crash.

- The solstice was also a good showing for myself, strong rides, a mechanical in the middle of the night but nothing I couldn't manage.

- Six in the Hood is where I really feel I had my legs under me. I rode very well, but lost a GPS during my race, that was unfortunate and a bit of a downer.

- Summer 8 I rode on a team, did very well again, laps were strong. Final lap would have been the fastest as I had taken a wrong turn, but still managed to crank out a lap only 1 minute faster then the first lap I rode.

- Fall 8 I rode solo with a chest infection. I still managed to pull 11 laps, and really enjoyed my day. I feel without the cramping I could have done 12 laps but learned a lot.

- PDE: what a shit show, it was my first realization that sometimes you should call a race on account of weather, and that being all SUPER MACHO MAN is more expensive then its worth.

- PDE: THE REVENGE: Riding in Ganaraska in the snow is awesome, and made a really good argument for a fat bike.


2013 Post Season: MUCH TRAINING, VERY SUFFERFEST, SUCH STRENGTH, WOW
2013 Post Season Redux: Started training at a FTP of 240. My current FTP is something like 293.... I am still 255lbs on a dry day.....

2014 Season So Far:

Old Pueblo: Hella fun, felt great, desert riding was fantastic. Also yeah baby, Vegas and Arizona!

Steaming Nostril: Hyper Strong for the race. Not sure why, but I rode extremely well, and very determined to put in a good showing.

Paris to Ancaster: This is where shit started getting weird. Overall I was 12 minutes off a 1st place finish in Clyde. Factor in my crash, and a bunch of other shenanigans and you can make up that 12 minutes in the delays. This will haunt me the entire year, and will push my winter training this year into possibly a next level, I'm already thinking about that, but more later.

Spring Epic 8: A Race Report


A couple of things and none of these really are anyone's fault but my own:

1. I didn't stop and eat in the morning. This was the biggest mistake I made. I always start a race with a decent meal, and a good amount of coffee/espresso just to get the blood moving.

2. A huge delay on the 400 left me about 15 minutes to prep my bike, my gear, my food, and my mind for the race. Not exactly optimal but I got to the line..... the back of the line, but before the start.

3. I have learned that being at the back of the line on a Singlespeed is a death knell for warming up. You don't warm up, you end up over exerting yourself to keep moving forward behind novices and skittish riders.



LAP 1: Starting at the back of the pack was hard. People are slow, unsure of themselves, and rely on that granny gear. There was a lot of walking where people would granny and eventually fall off on some of the hills. Don't get me wrong. I was there once, and I understand and hold no grudge, but I can get frustrated fairly quickly, and frustration leads me to doing stupid acts of strength that do nothing but burn me out.

LAP 2: Its thinned out now so its not so bad. Lap 2 goes well, nothing to write home about. My hand I injured in P2A is on fire and my forearm is cramping trying to compensate for it.

LAP 3: Thinning more, I'm getting passed by team riders and eventual podium solo riders. I feel like I'm getting into my groove..... except.... my hand.

LAP 4: I have no power anymore. Lungs are fine, just can't put any power down. I'm bonking. I have goosebumps on my legs showing I'm not drinking enough. I stop and eat and it helps a bit.

LAP 5: I really consider packing it in. I hop off the bike and use the portable can in the solo pit. I get out, I feel a bit better, I head out again after eating, my hand has gone dull and remained so for the rest of the race.

LAP 6: I really consider packing it in. Hills that I should be riding are getting really hard, or my body just doesn't want to deal with it. I get to the solo pit, and just pound water and Gatorade hoping to get myself on track.

LAP 7: I'm in survival mode, and I start hallucinating. I see the camera guy around every turn, every bump everywhere. Just black silhouettes out of the corner of my eyes. The final climb is bad. I swear to god I have cramps in my ankles. How does that even happen. I pull into the pit, eat. Rob is there, so is Marc. They're going out for another lap, and as such, so am I. If anything I am not a quitter, finish what you started becomes a mind worm for the next 2 laps.

LAP 8: The mantra of "Keep Moving" is starting to play in my mind over and over. The hills I was walking before I'm riding again and I actually start feeling alright.   Stop in the pit, grab a drink, head back out. Though I'm starting to just randomly rest around the course at random places. My mind is no longer into this race and is fighting my constant barrage of telling me to shut it down vs my determination to ride the full 8hs.

LAP 9:  I just hold on for dear life. I'm riding and in a dark place. I manage to make it around and call it a day handing in my baton. I rode what seemed to be the longest straight ever to the pit area, and got off my bike finally.

Physically, no real major cramps. Quads were fine, calves took a beating from all the on foot climbing I did with my bike.

Mentally, that was a beating I wish not to endure again.

Anyway, if anything I've learned here its that I absolutely need to eat in the morning before a race, I can't compromise that any more. Riding 8 hours on the equivalent of a coffee, a couple of candies and a nutella sandwich is probably not the best idea I've had in a while, but I know for next time.

Anyway it brings me to this. At this point I feel that I am as good as I will get without drastic changes. If I manage to drop the weight I keep saying I'm going to drop, and train as hard as I say I want to train. The problem with that is that it would end up being all that I did, and I'm not sure if I want to commit to really getting that into my training considering I already train fairly hard and regularly at the expense of my personal time.

I still remember my first ride 4 years ago and how I got to the end of my street and just about died. I'm happy with being healthy and strong again, but I have a competitive side that if left unchecked can really take the fun out of things sometimes. The problem is, that its starting to get that way.

Sometimes, fun IS winning, and I really want to win, but at the same time, I think this year I'm realizing that in order to do that, its going to require a commitment that requires a significant amount of change mentally and physically over the winter of 2014 and for the remainder of the summer. I know I can roll out some monumental efforts for the next 8H solos and other ultra endurance rides I'm doing.

Mentally right now, a bit beat up. P2A stung knowing how close I was to justifying the training and restraint over the winter, follow it up by a half decent showing at the Epic 8 and its got me thinking too much about it.

I'm not paid to race, in fact I spend all together too much money on racing with very little return other then some socks, and a couple of T-Shirts, I can quit at any time, and really it would make no difference to anyone other then my own family... but somewhere racing became something to me personally.

If anything, it can be summed up as an effort in, results out ratio that is visibly measurable every off season to first ride. I am very much a creature of cause and effect, and I enjoy when things make sense on first glance. I have seen how I have changed in the last 4 years and I am truly happy to be accepted, belong, and perform well in a sport I had enjoyed in my youth.

But the ratio has become a bit skewed as I am nearing what I figure is the end of my self coaching, and mentally this is throwing stones in my pond as I try to figure out what I can do already to improve myself for 2015, and the rest of my 2014 season.

Also the fact I'm considering Pueblo 24H Solo doesn't help.

Paris to Ancaster 2013

Like this, only harder.

Keep in mind: I am a 250lb rider. Not 120lbs. I am essentially a Tandem bike team.


Well, after last year's broken shoulder debacle... or better known as "What a perfect excuse to dump biking and play video games for 4 months straight and whine about your shitty shoulder to anyone who's listening like a baby, while eating everything and proclaiming "DUDE YOU KNOW HOW MANY CALORIES I BURN".....

Yeah, an annoying and confusing time in my summer where an injury played with my mind and body in equally painful results... also resulting in my exit from Crank the Shield.

Later in September I rode in Pauls Dirty Enduro for the 30k with my buddy Mike. It was my first time really back on the bike and I did well on the SS in some sections. Overall I just went out to test the shoulder... and it held up so I figured it was time to stop whining, and get down to business.



Come November I was back on the bike doing Whatever the Weather rides on Saturdays, and doing Sufferfests as my turbo training go to. I was also back up to 270lbs and getting over the woes of letting myself gain like 25lbs.

Then I discovered base building, and it made all the difference. My Sufferfest benchmarks got faster as I slowed myself down and took the time to develop a good base.. I was able to complete longer rides without much effort, and I found ways to just keep trucking along on the bike. Developed my pedal stroke and keeping my knees into my top tube. Technique goes far apparently.

Fast forward and 3000km later:

Paris to Ancaster 2013.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed at about 5:30 or so. I'm not sure why, but I was pretty blergh about racing. A lot of pre race jitters for this one, and a lot riding on my mind. After the scouting reports a podium looked like a moonshot, and top 10 was looking further and further from the truth, so my drive to ride hard kinda fell off the map.

I packed up the car with my bike and all my things. Noticing my camera hadn't charged over night..... I figured I'd try the USB charger in the car. No joy. Which sucked cause I was totally wanting to listen to something angry on the way over but was hoping to get video as well. So no Ipod for me, just 102.1... shitty emo deathcabforcutiewtfamilistiningto music.

Stop off at Timmies:

First Mistake: As with Nostril I didn't eat right before the race and I paid for it again. Its completely my fault and I'm an idiot cause I should KNOW BETTER THEN THAT. So my mistake.

Grab a Bagel with PBnJ, Ice Tea, coffee. And party on Wayne down to Ancaster. And park.

Half way there... get ANGRY leg syndrome. Suddenly I want to race, and badly. Might have been the AWOL Nation Sail at full volume... mighta been the sugar. I donno, but suddenly I wanted to ride.

Pull in, and grab my race registration, throw my bike in the shuttle truck, and consider getting into the bus early.

Barry parks right next to me, so instead of taking the bus over, he offers me a ride over in his new Audi. So I'm not going to turn that down, pretty VIP shuttle treatment right there.

Get to Paris and Barry heads out to warm up while I wait for my bike. Grab myself a clif bar *note this is where I realize I haven't eaten anything*. And start looking for my friend Mike. No can find.

Hop on the cross bike and do a couple of laps with a couple of pushes trying to keep warm, then I go get myself into the pen.

First things first:

I am not a small man. So I'm in a pen with a bunch of people that look very racer like. So as I squeeze my fat ass in, the looks of HURRSTUPIDHORSE were apparent. Meanwhile in typical fashion I make jokes about how people look and how they can feel free to draft me... 747's can't take off behind my draft, etc etc. Har har. Nobody's laughing, but rather making comments about how some people shouldn't be in the wave that are in the wave... I took the hint.

Fine. Up yers.

Our time to leave.

Aaand go.

PR 1.

Up the hill at 32.6km/h, got boxed in by some slower riders that started right at the front, finally made my way outside to the far end, and hammered. Eat a dick cycling club. Too bad you never caught me either... of course now I'm hyper angry and I've seen all these Clydes in the VIP and Wave 1, my new goal: Catch them.... I realize I'm with like 3 other guys at the front of this group and we roll into the next area. My goal was not to get caught on rail trail behind slow people. It can kill you in that section if you get caught and a train starts on your left....

Which leads me to PR 2.

The rail trail section along this area was a mixed bag. It was warm but we already started catching slow Wave 1 riders here.... which is bad cause I got caught behind a small train, and started to coast a bit to bring the HR down. Then I realized the guy was gapping the peloton big time. Shitsticks.

Head down, and hammer. I can't let that group get ahead. I manage to chase it down and ride with it to...

PR 3.

The incline is a shitstorm. The peloton blows apart, people immediately dismount, I manage to stay on, and ride it out. My HR goes through the roof, and I consider this my first burnt match. I actually passed quite a few people up the hill. MTB'rs actually passed me here quite a bit. The granny gear made it easy, and my tires are sinking in the gravel. Power through, rock my bike, get to the top and recover. I'll catch them on the road.... I hope.

PR 4.

The road section was good but I think this is where I made my first riding mistake. I got complacent behind a group that I could have out rode. I was torn between resting after the massive gravel climb, and wanting to go fast. About half way down I feel good enough to push, figure I'll take my pull, then drop the 4 guys I was trailing and got caught up to quite a few guys that had passed me on the rail trail earlier. Funny thing about that as well. Gravity works for bigger guys. The downhill before the up really helps, so I got going as fast as I could before the climb. I think I peak here at 50km/h or so. I really tried to hammer as hard as I could once I got around them.

At this point I'm doing some system checks. Heart rate has been pinned for a bit but tolerable and my legs feel warm an humming so I'm not worried, I am starting to get hungry though already. I try to drink it away but its at this point I realize its going to be a problem. We turn down the road and into the first bit of "single track". Which is a savvy term for "Mud induced crying".

The singletrack was a bit messier this year then I remember it, I had to get off the bike and push, only to realize my tires are caking up.

The more technical section with the steep down had a lot of people on the ground when I went through. I'm not sure what happened but I managed to get through without much issue. I hope nobody was hurt. Looked very pileupish.

Second Mistake: Those MSO's are AWESOME ON GRAVEL. They are NOT in the mud. I will never race with them again through muddy conditions. They caked so badly everywhere. I spent easily 10 min trying to clean that out. Not to mention the resistance it provides. So painful, this combined with my lack of food easily explains my fade at the end of the race. But we'll get there.

Howell road added an orchard to the mix. It was a fun ride around but the mud started to get pretty soul sucking in some sections. The fact you were going up didn't help much either. At this point I met up with another Clyde named Al and we worked together for the next 20km or so giving eachother wheels to grab.

Through gravel, and the soul sucking farmer field. I had to get off here and trudge. The mud was too much for me and it was getting into everything on my bike. I tried to shoulder run the bike as much as I could through it, then back onto the roads again to clear off the tires.

PR 5.

After Jerseyville, onto the rail trail. This is usually my undoing every year. Its flat, bumpy, and a painful hammerfest. I'm also riding solo here and catching people. At this point, the people that are going to be ahead of me, are, and the people that I'm going to catch are fading badly.... theres something different this year though.... Then I realize, my back isn't sore. This is the part where my back would suddenly start to cramp up on me and I'd have to slow down to stretch. Nope 28.6km/h baby, and full on hammering. I stand here and there to stretch the legs and keep them loose.

At this point I look at my GPS, it can't be right in my mind, but I figure I keep on keeping on.



The small first Mudchute teaches me that my bike isn't going to shed the mud. At this point I have to try to run down, but my bike is heavy with caked mud, and I'm worried about my derailleur.

Out of the first mud chute, and the worst is that I have some chain skip in my granny gear. Not worried yet, but what I am worried about is my calves and quads are NOT enjoying walking.... this does not bode well for Martin Hill.

Onto the second Powerline Mudchute..... the king of mud.

I tried to ride as much of it as possible but the mud was just so bad.... BUT

PR 6.

I make it out unscathed. I pass at LEAST 20 people at the bottom of this thing with broken chains, broken derailleurs, broken souls. I feel pretty bad for everyone involved. What gets me is that they HAVE TECHS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL. Why for the life of me do you add this to the race if you know its going to destroy bikes knowingly placing techs there. Seriously. Its a well known landmark for P2A. Its also where I bailed out last year starting my run at the bottom.

I spent about 5-10 min here cleaing out my tires, and trying to lighten my bike up. I hear rubbing and leaves and whatever after I leave this section. I can feel the drag but I'm happy I haven't experienced any mechanicals to this point. I also figure there's no way I'm placing top 10. Its game over so you might as well finish i.... OH TO HELL WITH THAT, GET ON YOUR HORSE.

Hammer off even though my legs are now screaming at me. And by screaming at me.... I mean I haven't felt this much pain in a long time.... and I'm getting tired, really tired, and worse, I know Martin Hill is around the corner...

PR 7.

Its muddy, and hellish. I ride some, walk some, then when it gets steep, I try to keep my sanity by singing to myself. My legs at this point feel like they're on fire. My heart feels like its going to explode. I mount up right after the steep hill is over, and make it across..

Check my GPS:

2:44.

Naaawww.

502 overall out of 1345 riders.

9th place in Clyde.

Actual Time: 2:42:02 THATS RIGHT.

7 Broken PRs

I made mistakes this race, big ones, and I know what I can do for next year to correct, and it started back in November. But if my numbers are looking the way they are.... I am super stoked about riding this summer both competitively and for shits and giggles. So I'm disappointed I didn't take my previous day prep more seriously, and my nutrition. My gut told me to swap tires but I ignored it thinking I'd be better off in the mud... man I was wrong.

I will return in 2014 for P2A. My beef is settled with the race, but next year, I'm looking to take home hardware. I'll train when you're sleeping, when you're awake, when you're thinking about training, and when you are training.

Overall: Happy with my performance, underwhelmed with my choices. But still managed to shave 30+ min off my time from last year.... even if it was 3km less mileage.

Race Report: Steaming Nostril *Nice Bike*

I got to the parking lot around 8:30 because I have what could be called either hyper punctual tendencies on days where I race, or I'm more scared I'm going to miss something. Before that I stopped off at Tims on the way out, and grabbed a bagel and a coffee, then on the way in I grabbed a second small coffee and an Ice-Tea.

I think not having a good solid breakfast might have been a fairly bad choice and may have contributed to my late race fade, then again I'm pretty sure it was also the rail trail, but more on that in a bit.

Anyway, got registered, found out I was classified as a woman so I'm glad I got that fixed up right away, that way when I found out how much I sucked, I would at least be in my own class and not destroyed by women too.

Get back to the car, pull out bike. Put bike back in, go use facilities, take bike back out, put bike back in, use facilities, repeat about 4 times. *Nervous Racer... hate the wait*.  Mike finally gets there, and I ride over to his car to meet up with him. He's got an extra pack of Stingers that I down before we head out and line up.

Mike and I line up about near the back of the pack in Wave 2 and head out shortly after Wave 1. It was a fairly uneventful neutral start, then we got to the "Rail Trail".

What a piece of work. I would work hard, get in front of a bunch of people I couldn't see past, only to have my wheel grabbed by something, slow me down, get caught, speed up, get caught, speed up... etc. I rode through the start making small gains where I could when people were having trouble, but I had a sinking feeling I wasn't riding as strong as I thought I was going to be... that and the trail just seemed to go on forever. I also noticed that my legs and cranks had developed a sheet of ice on them... what I didn't notice was that my gears had frozen in big ring. This would come back to haunt me later. BEEP, GPS shuts down. THE FUUUUUUU.

Stop, reset GPS, get back on, start down the trail again, look down, somewhere I had twisted my bars out of true, only a split second before I caught snow and just about headed into the ditch. RAGEMODE. Not only do I now look like a complete idiot for almost railroading myself into the ditch, but I'm twisting my bars straight again, on the side of the road. "You Okay Rider?!" Me: Yeah no I'm fine, just temporary stupid.

Anyway once I got all of that sorted, I kept an eye on if my headset felt loose, or something to tell me what I did wasn't good, but after 30 min or so I stopped worrying about it.

Out of the rail trail "Thank god I won't have to ride that again".

The road sections were fairly boring. I'm not sure what to update. I rode really well keeping the mantra of *Deep Breath, WORK WORK* going for a solid ride. Till I hit the wall.

This road still smells of my rage.

Elapsed Time	00:31:44
Resting Time	00:00:32
Average Speed	20.6 km/h
Average HR	161 bpm
Power	159 <---- WRONG STRAVA WRONG

Yeah, that section was 10km of what I think was possibly the worst false flat into the wind feeling I've ever ridden. I did well on it. I did manage to stop at the station and fill my bottle, hence the 32s of rest time. It was unintentional but I did end up leaving and riding away only to not hear a small group of riders attach themselves to my wheel. Which was AWESOME, because as I was getting tired, we all started to take pulls. I counted 7 of us. I took my pulls when I needed to, but I noticed that some people were reluctant. It didn't really matter, I was out of the wind for a bit and it felt good to not have to work so hard to go so slow. Mind you the stronger of us kept up till we rounded the corner, and then it was over. Strongers guys left me in the dust, and I rode stronger then the other guys so they got dropped, and after about 20 min, I found myself alone but content that the wind wasn't kicking me in the face anymore.

Down this road I passed a bunch of Mennonite children out watching the ride.... I tried waving to them and such but I'm not quite sure how to take the stone faced staring at me as I rode by, so I kinda just stopped and kept on with my "work work" mantra. I tried standing on a hill only to have my right quad cramp up on me in protest to the sudden wattage change..... not a good prelude.

Little did I know that we were about to rush headlong into what I would describe as torture for 5km......

Elapsed Time	00:36:28
Resting Time	00:02:17
Average Speed	13.5 km/h
Average HR	155 bpm
Power	100 <--- NO STRAVA, AGAIN WRONG... WHY DO YOU MOCK ME WITH YOUR LIES.

At this point I want to point out I haven't dropped out of my big ring at all, just danced through gears on my rear cog when I needed it... except big ring at this point was starting to rub, and big gear on the back wasn't looking good... as we head back into the now thawed rail trail.... and by thawed i mean soft and wheel sucky. I grabbed what little Gatorade I had left, and sprayed down my gears and managed to get back into my small ring and chugged through the trail. At one point I literally had a brain shutdown telling me that "this was no longer fun".  My quads started to cramp up on me, I kept frantically searching for the end of the trail trying to remember landmarks and wondering when the hell I was getting back on the road. It felt way longer then it was the first time, painfully so.

Once I was out of the mud, my legs rejoiced in a solid sprint to the end of the course where I found a chair and sat the shit down.

Goals: I had set myself a goal of sub 3H in the race, and to try to ride faster then other people I had set to scout for P2A. Others being Clydesdales.

Results: I found a few of them. Comparatively I did well against them and it keeps me  fairly optimistic for a really solid result at P2A in Clyde. But we'll see who shows up.

Total time Raced: 2H 59M 58S.

Sub 3h. Suck it.

I'll do it again next year for sure.