Friday, June 10, 2016

Dirty kanza

Nearly one week post-race and I'm finally ready to put down thoughts and recap on e-paper to share... It's hard to capture the event and feelings and emotions appropriately and even harder to share a failure publicly. That's right. I didn't finish. ;( 

So let's backup. I was preparing to do the 8 hour drive there and back by myself in the TCL van like I did last year. But I was dreading it - I couldn't bring the dogs this year the temps were too hot- and especially feared the drive home Sunday after such a grueling event. I paid a spontaneous (read: freak out about tires and lights) visit to a bike shop here in golden and moaned about the drive to fellow cyclist Taylor as we talked tire selection. [sidenote : we went with new Clement tires and sealant and he even cleaned my bike for me - stoked!! Thanks Taylor!]


Well a guy who works at the shop also popped in that day similarly fussing about the solo drive and Taylor connected us to carpool. This is how it came to be that I had a driving mate - Russ- who also happened to be a former DK200 winner. [another side note: if you're gonna carpool 16 hours with a total stranger it's pretty rad when they can offer helpful race tips as a former victor].  

And so we did the 8 hour drive to emporia Kansas on Thursday and even had time to spin the legs before making our way to the sponsor appreciation dinner. [I came on as a sponsor this year after experiencing the DK Magic last year. I'll be a sponsor as long as they'll have me].

Before dinner, we visited the local art gallery featuring 2015 DK200 artwork- and got to meet the artists - so cool. 

After that it was dinner at Radius Brewing and sampling of the Dk200 special brew on tap. Yummy. 

Friday brought a large morning group ride to spin the legs and it was led by local cyclists - positively beaming with pride at their town and the event and what the event means to their town. In case you haven't guessed, this event is a BIG deal to emporia. It's their single biggest event / money maker of the year ! Ahhh all for love of gravel. Super fun to connect with tim johnson and lyne bessette on the ride. Both were on Cannondale Slates (read: jealous)  pics are steamy because well...Kansas is steamy. 


After the ride was packet pickup and registration and much to my surprise I was handed a stack of trading cards bearing my image ! How fun. Such a neat detail that twenty or so riders each year have trading cards to hand out. DK has a way of doing small things in special ways to make this event truly unique. 

I set my TCL tent up in the expo all day ...but I had too much fun riding and socializing to do, to hang at the tent. Hopefully folks helped themselves to the bottles and other goodies I set out.

Friday Evening brought the rider meeting at the emporia theater. Always fun and informative, this particular year they brought in a rancher who owns land that we ride across and he explained many Things about the flint hills as well as what happens when groups of riders spook cattle (it's not good. They go plowing down fences and combining herds of separately owned cattle into one big group. Read: massive heachahe to sort out). 

Loved seeing my logo up there - 

The night wrapped with a fun cookout with friends from the golden area and I'm not going to lie ...there was a slight aura of nervousness. Ok maybe just mine. 

Last year I did the 100 and it took me eight hours and at the time was the hardest thing I'd done on a bike. This year I was going for double the distance. My longest ride to date was 150 miles - last year's gravel world's- and longest straight event was my ironman last fall at twelve hours. Suffice it to say I was headed into uncharted territory.... 

Then I commenced a super duper ridiculous packing frenzy ::: what goes on the bike and in my camelback and in my drop bags and how Many tubes and how many chews and other such compulsive Things ... You hope you're doing it right. How much of everything does one carry for 200 miles ?! As little as possible while being prepared for anything. 

Alright. If you're still with me I'm finally at race day. 4am wake up for 6am race start. 

Oh but wait. Overnight I woke to thunder and pouring rain. So much for the super dry fast course... Luckily it stopped by race start but it soaked and flooded the roads near town. 

Ok so the start. Callups for the fasties and for the rest of us : self -seeding. I got in midway between the 14-16 hour groups. 
And then we were off. We rolled out of town on roads and as we made the turn to get on gravel we saw what the rain had done. It had created lakes. A couple miles in and we were soaking wet and mud covered. Sigh. I was worried about the mud section we had to walk last year. Would it be more of the same ? 

Mile five I rolled up on many of the pros and elite riders on both sides of the road off their bikes with derielleurs hanging off their bikes. It was derielleur death row. I'm not kidding. People right in front of me would be riding along and suddenly SNAP another one would go. I got off and began carrying my bike because - why would I be immune ?! I kept hosing off my chain and derielleur with my camelback straw. Praying please don't let my day end five miles in. !! (Many racers' days did in fact end right there. A lot actually. Couple hundred I'd guess?! Including my copilot Russ as I later learned).  

Once I felt it was safe to get back on and start pedaling again, I did so very gingerly. No chain pressure and honestly expecting to hear the snap of bike parts any moment. I soft pedaled like this for an hour and only covered ten miles in that first hour. 

It was shaping up to be a long day. 

Good news tho: the muddy slog-walk section from 2015 was bone try and took mere minutes to ride through. Whew. 

I made my way into the first stop at mile 48 and grabbed the food and mix I'd packed and shoved cookies in my mouth along with Dr Pepper as my camelback was being refilled. I had the SRAM guy check my bike to assure me that my rear derielleur was ok and it was. Lubed my chain and off I went. It had taken me around four hours to get there so I really wanted to pick up my pace. 

And I did. I rode 48-to next stop around mile 103 pretty aggressively. I allowed myself to stop at mile 75 to check my phone and text my updates. This is when I learned Russ' and so many others' days had ended at mile five. Super bummer. I gave thanks for my perfectly functioning bike and zero flats thus far. Seeing rider after rider fixing tires and bike parts on course made me continually grateful for my amazing machine. 

And then I ran out of fluids. I underestimated how the camelback would feel heavy even once the water was gone. Sucking the straw and getting air unexpectedly was not good. My bottle with Skratch in it was down to 1/4 full. 

Ugh. I had over twenty miles yet to go and was out of fluids in the hot windy Kansas flint hills. 

So i did what any self respecting racer does. I begged. As I'd encounter riders with full appearing bottles I'd ask if I could steal some. Several had plenty to spare and I gratefully took hits off their bottles (I am amazed I'm not sick after swapping saliva with so many strangers!) not caring what it was or how it tasted. I limped along dehydrated like that until finally I got to the second stop. I'd been parched miles 80-103. Not optimal. 
(A note about support : the rules say riders cannot get support from a vehicle on course but do recognize riders may get support in the way of random people or residents or racers on course- you are expected to be self sufficient in the sense that you're not getting premeditated support or handups). 

I had them fill my 100oz camelback to the BRIM and i filled my Bottle with two Skratch packets. I felt lucky I wasn't cramping and scolded myself for allowing Twenty miles of spotty hydration to happen. I enjoyed anther Dr Pepper and a half of a subway sandwich, refilled my pockets with more snacks and off I went. This was just shy of eight hours in ...


It is really an incredible (awful?) feeling to have just finished a century and realize you're staring down Another century. And it's right in the heat of the day and your butt is starting to feel like you've been sitting on a cheese grater. And your back is tired from carrying a heavy backpack...but that's what it was. 

I set off thinking the third and final stop would be at about mile 148-150 based on mileage of first two (stupid rookie mistake i failed to note where stops were and memorize the mileage!!) ...based on this false assumption I began drinking my camelback water pretty aggressively (plus it was cold and it tasted sooooo good).... 

The miles ticked off and as I approached about mile 141 the wheels really started to fall off. My feet began cramping bad. That was a brand new experience for me. Normally I don't struggle with cramps ... Then my legs started. First my sartorious in one and then the other ... Then the quads separately and then together. I had to start walking the hills because I couldn't stand and mash over them since my legs kept locking up. 

I kept drinking and once again that air came through the straw and I thought - oh noooooo. Racers began bailing off bikes and laying in any shade they could find. Many abandoned and called their rides to come get them. Once I saw this and asked the abandoning rider if he had fluids to spare and he poured his left over bottle into my bottle. I allowed myself small sips from my water bottle as the miles ever so slowly ticked over on my garmin. Around 150 I grew expectant of the next station. I asked racers what mileage that station was and one replied 161. 

Oh geez. Not good ... That was eleven more miles than I'd assumed and way too far to go without fluids in the heat of the day. 

Homeowners along the course must've seen the distress of some riders and went to buy bottled water - they were standing there handing it out to all of us. It was a miraculous oasis in the middle of gravel hell. Another homeowner alongside the road offered to fill our bottles with her garden hose and I readily agreed. So many riders were crumpling from heat and swerving across the road and literally coming undone. I felt mentally good and kept sugar levels up but just couldn't seem to drink enough. My legs kept cramping. 

151-161 were the longest ten miles EVER but finally I rolled into the stop and refilled my camelback and ate and drank and put lights on my bike knowing i would now be finishing well after dark. It was about 7pm and I'd been riding 13 hours. I knew the next 46 would take me 4 more and I was looking at riding 9-11pm in the pitch dark. This made me really nervous but at least the temps were beginning to cool off. 

From the looks of the aid station and how picked over it was and how few riders were there, I assumed I was at the back end of the race. This didn't surprise me since I was avenging less than 14mph. I was disappointed in myself and dreaded the final leg. My spirits fell substantially. 

I departed with a small group of riders and off we went. I failed to note my gamin telling me 'off course' and two miles up the road one rider turned around saying we'd gone the wrong way. 46 miles to go became 50 to go and the four miles out of the way positively cracked me. My ride was still back in town and in that moment I made a call I'll regret forever : "I'm done. Can you come pick me up?" 

I hung up and pedaled slowly back towards town and met my van coming towards me - saddened by my decision but also relieved that I could get off my bike. As we loaded the bike into the van, some homeowners nearby hollered at us like we were famous people and invited us to join their cookout and to have a Coors light with them. (As it turns out he'd worked at Coors here in golden for 20-some years!)... And even tho I knew a beer and brats would be the worst thing ever to put in my tummy, we agreed. And it was really really fun. And it took my mind off feeling like a total failure. (And then yeah I felt like garbage and my stomach hurt a LOT). 

Only then did I learn I'd been sitting about top ten among women overall and likely fairly highly placed in my age group. As I watched racers go by I realized I wasn't at the back of the race as I'd assumed - I was near the front-to-middle. Damn that's a rotten feeling. Admittedly I'm one of those athletes who will dig much harder if I think there's podium potential than I will simply to finish something. I realize now that finishing would've been a victory for me and hey - sometimes you gotta walk before you can run and sometimes you gotta finish before you can worry about racing. 

The DNF stings. 

So this was a big hard lesson for me. The  hydration and legs seizing And the difficulty of those lonely miles into the headwinds (most of second century was into headwind)... I underestimated it. Stupidly. 

So you know what I did ? Not even two days later I committed to being there in 2017 as sponsor and racer. Because I'll be damned if I walk away from this unfinished business. I can't wait to go back and try again. 

Never ever have I seen a TSS like this -!

My strava map:





If you're still reading ...you deserve a prize. Thanks for caring ;) 

For a far more inspiring write up read here:: http://blog.strava.com/dirty-kanza-vs-paris-roubaix-12029/

No comments:

Post a Comment