The Muddiest Mountain Bike Race Ever!

In the last month or so, it seems like I’ve had to answer this question about 100 times. “You have a race this weekend? What kind of race?” Depending on who is asking the question, most days I just say that I have a MTB (mountain bike) race and the odd looks and strange questions seem to be minimized. Occasionally I’ll give the more detailed answer. “I have an Adventure Race” I’ll say. The responses vary greatly but usually consist of a “Huh?” or a “What?” An Adventure Race… I repeat and then continue. We usually mountain bike, kayak, run, find checkpoints, sometimes climb or repel, occasionally swim or zip line etc. “In the same day?” they’ll say. Yep…same day I reply. “How far/long?” is usually the next question. So I say…Oh last week we rode about 30 miles on the bike, ran about 16, and kayaked about 8. We only did the short 12 hour race I continue. “A 12 hour race?” Yes…12 hours was the short race I repeat. From there the conversation typically gets a little more sketchy depending on who I’m talking to but generally degrades rapidly to topics like football or some TV program. On more than one occasion I’m sure these people have questioned my sanity. I mean really…sitting on the couch all weekend and watching TV is SO much more fun. Who wouldn’t want to do that? Please apply your preferred level of sarcasm to the previous two sentences.

Admittedly, when it’s 12 degrees outside and I’m halfway through a 25k trail run/trek I sometimes wonder what the hell I’m doing. But then clarity sets in and I remember all the gorgeous/beautiful/cool things that I get to do and see. For example, the millions of spiders shimmering as my headlamp shined off of them in Bastrop State Park. Yes, millions of tiny spiders that shined like glitter on the fallen leaves and pine needles. Pretty cool and a little spooky at the same time. Or the heron that practically landed on me while we were paddling. I was a literally a paddle stroke away from having an extra passenger on board with us. Yep, crazy, wild and interesting things seem to be happening all the time.

Such was the case yesterday when I participated in the Miles of Discomfort MTB Marathon Race just outside of Comfort, TX. Flat Rock Ranch is easily one of the most beautiful/fun places to ride in the Austin/San Antonio area. However, yesterday was a much different story. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Before I tell that story, I need to point out that one of the things about doing Adventure Races is that you have to do multisport training to survive let alone be any good. Example: a great runner is no good if they can’t MTB. An expert in a kayak is no good if they can’t run very well etc. As such, for training purposes alone you find yourself at a lot of other more pure events. “Pure” meaning a single sport event or venue. With that in mind, I like to train by doing the local MTB races. One of the more interesting facets about being involved in pure MTB races in Texas is occasionally the biggest names in cycling will show up to race the event as well. I’ve been lucky enough to be in races where guys like David Hanes, Bryan Fawley, Jeremy Horgan-Kobelski, David Wiens, Chris Eatough, and yes even Lance Armstrong showed up to race. No, I don’t actually race against these guys. These guys are professional racers and to them, I’m just some dude with a bike. And really, from my point of view, these guys are really nothing more than machines cloaked in some vaguely human form. How these guys ride a bike so fast is inconceivable to me. Hold that thought. Back to the Miles of Discomfort Race.

So yesterday at 9 a.m. I set off to do the Miles of Discomfort Marathon with my buddy Kyle and one of my AR teammates Bernice. Start time temp….29 degrees. Terrain…frozen. Trails…”reportedly” packed nicely but a little wet in some spots. That word “reportedly” would come in to play in a big way. I should also mention that I had a little bit of a monkey to get off of my back in this race. Back in 2008 I attended this same race and I DNF (Did Not Finish) because of severe cramps. Ask Kyle, he witnessed it and he’ll tell you how ugly it was. Anyway, I didn’t feel too bad about my DNF that year as Lance (Armstrong) also DNF because of cramps. Granted I did it at mile 14 and he did it at mile 40 but who’s counting? So, yesterday I was feeling really good and the staging area looked nice and dry so I decided to bump up to the full 52 miles instead of the 26. I did a 56 mile ride a few weeks ago so 52 miles should be a picnic right? It was supposed to be a little wet in some spots. I mean really, how bad could it be? Pretty bad as it turns out.

About 30 minutes into the ride the sun came out and the frozen tundra started to thaw. Around mile 6 or so the course took on the consistency of really thick peanut butter in some spots and super thick mostly frozen ice cream in others. Throw in the most slippery off-camber rocks you can imagine. Add a dash of sloppy wet 'mud wrestling' type mud and you have the muddiest, nastiest, hardest, longest day I have ever spent on a bike. More people didn’t finish the race than did. It was that bad. I saw two people that had their rear derailleur completely torn off of their bikes. Scott Henry was one of them and he wasn't too far behind Lance. He snapped his hanger at probably mile 48 or 49 of his race. Literally a couple of miles from the finish line. Needless to say, I felt bad for the guy.

Above: Kyle's bike right after the race

At mile 14 my AR teammate Bernice had enough and packed it in. Smart girl. I at least wanted to finish the original 26 miles that I had originally signed up for as it was clear that alone would be an accomplishment. So, Kyle and I set off together to tackle the last 12 miles. Soon enough it became painfully obvious that the conditions were only going to get worse. At around mile 19 or so my bike stopped working/rolling completely because of all of the mud around the tires, derailleur and chain. At 200lbs I don’t possess the 140lb superfast streamlined body that some of these hardcore mountain bikers do. The rest is simple physics. My extra weight pushes my bike down farther into the mud which means…you guessed it…more mud…on me…on my bike…everywhere. Lucky me.

Now, as the day would have it, while I’m standing there super pissed off that I’m completely stuck in this cluster freak nightmare of mud, I had one of the coolest moments I’ve ever had while racing in any event. Behind me on the trail I hear someone call out “Rider Back!” “Rider Back!” is MTB lingo for “Move your slow ass over so I can pass you” which is really no big deal to me because I get passed all the time. Then a few moments later, none other than Lance Armstrong flew by me like I was standing still. Well, technically I was standing still at the time but that’s not the point. This guy was flying. “Looking good, enjoy the ride!” I said as he passed. He crested the hill rounded some trees and he was gone. “Sweet” I thought. “I just got passed by Lance Armstrong in a MTB race. How many people on the planet can say that?” Suddenly the day got a whole lot better and I couldn’t help but think to myself...”I wonder if I can catch him?" Not so much really.

Above: Lance Armstrong finishing the Miles of Discomfort Marathon

After another hour of so which included carrying my bike for a half a mile on my back and stopping 3 more times to get the mud out of my derailleur so my bike would sort of shift, I finished my “original race” of 26 miles. On the official results I technically DNF because I bumped up to the Full Marathon that morning. The big mistake I eluded to earlier. Still, most riders would tell you that it was survival mode for anyone that wasn’t a professional mountain biker and I was thankful to finish the 26 miles I had originally signed up for.

All in all, it was a great day and a horrible day at the same time. The mud was the absolute worst I’ve ever experienced. Somehow, I managed to remain upright the entire day and as muddy as my bike got, nothing broke. Still, I don’t believe that I’ll ever knowingly ride in those conditions again. On a super positive note, I did survive 26 Miles of Discomfort, got passed by Lance Armstrong and enjoyed the company of my friends with a cold Shiner Bock and some BBQ after the race. Still, I can’t help but wonder if all of these people that kind of chuckle at my little races managed to find anything good to watch on TV yesterday? I'm guessing probably not.