Warning: Lots of words below. Or as
@JimN would say tl;dr. See I"m learning...
Today was the Keystone Off-Road race. I have been feeling better since being sick, and was hoping to give this a good go to see how the legs and body would respond. I did a nice chill 90 minutes on my mtb yesterday to prep for today and the legs felt ok but not great. Sometimes that is good sometimes not. I drove out last night and got to the hotel around 10:30 and was in bed by 12:30 after watching the final stage of the TOC. That was entertaining but it was time for bed. Up at 6 with a sweet Red Roof Inn continental breakfast was perfect...really. A waffle and some oatmeal and I was ready to go. We lined up and I put myself in the back as I was not racing this event. I really just wanted a hard day in the saddle. The map looked pretty benign as most of the roads looked to be gravel/fireroads and very little singletrack. It was advertised as 55 miles with 7000 vert. So it would be a good hard day in the saddle.
The promoter yells go and we're off. I hit the first climb and felt ok but nothing snappy. We climbed to the top of a ridge to get to some great bumpy singletrack with some new switchbacks thrown in and I was psyched. This seemed like a good day of riding at this point. We kept on and then hit a fun gravel 40+ mph descent that was fun but it would have been better to lose that vert with singletrack. Anyway I make my way to the first aid station at mile 15 in 1:30 or so and pass by not grabbing anything. Next up was a greasy muddy singletrack that was elevated above a cinder railbed. I was in a line of 4 or 5 guys and cruising along this until we saw an arrow dropping us down to the rail trail. We hung a left and soon found ourselves almost back at the aid station. Crap. We f'd up somewhere. They gave us a printed map so we took that out and realized we missed a huge section and went about 4 miles out of our way. Oh well, here we go.
We backtracked to where we made the wrong turn - poor course marking - and then kept going on a RELENTLESS climb. I cracked 4 or 5 times. When I realized the guys behind me were gaining on me while walking and I was riding I popped off to get up the last rise and hopefully onto something flat or down. It did turn to gravel soon and that was welcomed. I felt a bit better to have that 5 mile climb behind us and onto the next battle. The gravel led to a sketchy descent. Steep, loose, technical, covered with leaves, and endless endo possibilities. I was happy to have made it down this but part way through I REALLY backed off as my brakes sounded horrible. I thought I fried my pads and was just grinding on my rotors. I kept it easy to save my ass and went conservative as I saw a lot of guys on the side of the trail trying to get their bearings or picking themselves off the trail. Again another spot that sweet singletrack could have been used instead of a drainage ditch. At the bottom I linked up to where I made the wrong turn earlier and headed back to the aid station at mile 35.
At this point I was really hurting and didn't want to go up any more. I knew there were two more stout climbs to come. I didn't know if I should keep going. I took some time at the aid station as I was cramping like crazy in my quads and hams. I got them to release but it was touch and go for a few minutes. I headed off from the aid station and sure enough we were going up again. Steeply at first to cut though a DOT yard to get to a paved climb. I climbed up to where we would turn back onto trail and I stopped to see what was going on with my bike. It was making some weird sounds. Either the rear thruaxle was loose or someone hooked a windchime up to my bike when I wasn't looking. It wasn't my thruaxle but my rotor was completely loose. Somehow the lockring loosened and fell off onto the axle making the noise. I fixed it and sat down for a minute and just enjoyed not riding. I got out my map and looked at what was to come and assessed my physical condition. I was hurting. I felt bad. I didn't know if I could or would want to continue. I was so hot, dehydrated, and just generally feeling crappy.
All I wanted at the last aid station was cold water and what they had was warm/hot-ish water that had been sitting in the sun all day. I didn't even want to touch it. I struggled to get something down but I felt awful. I didn't know if I wanted to poop or throw up or both. I was getting dizzy with any effort and knew that what was to come would be hard. I said f it and kept pedaling anyway. I passed through a river crossing thinking this may not be that bad and it kept getting steeper. I was shot. If the grade was less I would have been ok but I was not having any fun. I saw down and looked at the map again and said nope. The only thing I kept thinking is that the Mohican 100 is 2 weeks away and I could finish this with a lot of walking and then destroy my enjoyment at Mohican and probably sell all of my bikes. Since resale sucks, I chose to pack it up and call it a day.
I turned around and headed down the road back to the aid station. The only problem being that the start area was 10 miles from the aid station. I rolled in to see MANY people saying they were done. I found a nice group of locals to keep me company on my ride back. We hit the rail trail and actually enjoyed the 10 miles back to the start finish. I may not have finished the race but I"m very happy with my choice as odd as that sounds. I know I'm not in top shape and I recognized that and actually made a smart decision. I feel like I matured as a bike racer and knew that I wouldn't gain anything else from this besides prolonged fatigue and a bad taste in my mouth. I got a nice long day in. I finished with 50 miles and 5200' of vert in 5:15. A long hard day in the saddle was accomplished after all. It may have not been what the racer director had in mind but it made total sense in my mind.
