Bonked at Boggs..

This past weekend I raced in my very first California cross country mtb race, and it was a "he loves me, heloves me not" relationship off the bat.

Knowing I had the weekend off of work, I set out to find something to preoccupy my free time. Realizing my riding has been lacking any real high end pushing, I figured doing a cross country race should

be in order. My procrastination took the best of me and I didn't decide on a race until the night before. Not only did my procrastination take over, but my lack of being prepared or reading the fine print. Luckily, good friend Eric Hill was setting out to do the same race. Thanks to he and his girlfriend Sarah, transportation, water bottle hand off, and great company were all taken care of.

An early morning wake up call after a quasi night's sleep on Eric's pull out couch, which actually felt pretty plush compared to the vast array of sleeping quarters I've had since moving. See below for the best example.

Off to the races we went! All that was on my mind was not forgetting my bike shoes, helmet, and SV jersey. Unfortunately, I don't fill out my jersey like it looks in the link, but I have to say this has been the most comfortable jersey I have ever worn. Capo has the woman's fit figured out! My biggest complaint with tops is how most creep up your waist throughout a ride or race. The last thing you want to think about is pulling down your jersey, and with a looser fit at the waist, this jersey doesn't creep up or give you that elastic band "muffin top" feel. You know what I'm talking about.

Race time, and my body was feeling terrible and I hadn't even made a pedal stroke. Ignoring the lead in my legs and not having my pro license yet, I registered in the pro category. I tend to enjoy jumping in the deep end of any situation and hoping to figure out how to swim through it. Still not knowing all the details of the race, I set out to warm up on the course the same way I would in the Vail Rec District Mountain Bike Series. These races are a bit shorter and typically start with a monster climb that you need to be warmed up for. Little did I know that here at Boggs the race organizer starts us out with a 2 mile road climb followed by a rolling 3 mile single track before even starting the timing of the race! Lesson #1, I probably didn't need the 30 minutes of fire roads before the race. Check.

Line up time. I love this part of any race. It was a mass start, so I wasn't sure who I was racing against but enjoyed checking out the scene, bikes, and people's nerves. Seeing other people nervously chat has a way of settling my own inner chatter. We were off! Here is where KJ learned Lesson #2. When racing you should really have a sense for how long the race is and "pace" accordingly. I went out hot, silly. The 5 mile start wasn't even a part of the race. There was no point of riding up with the fast boys on the climb. Silly. My lead legs continued to feel heavier and heaver and I hadn't even technically started the race yet!?! Smart, KJ.

That was the tone for the three hours I ended up being on my bike. I kept wondering when I would start to settle into a pace or when my body would just start enjoying the race. It wasn't until mid second lap when I heard a female voice behind me. She rode my wheel for a good portion of lap 2 winding through some of the best single track I've ridden in California yet! Forgetting about the sharp turn off the single track up a steep grade road and cakdjcakjdcakdjcekja... there goes my chain.... and there goes first place. Quickly, I tried to shift through the chain suck but got off and fixed it instead. Cursing my bike and my small wheels, I wanted to send Gary out to pasture that very moment! I then saw her pull away, I had no drive to push through the frustration of the second mechanical of the race and the beginning of my cramping that nagged along with me for the remainder of the day. This is where I rode. I was no longer racing and I was officially fighting with my body. As I rode along, feeling crummy and trying to enjoy the trails I heard someone cheering my name up in the distance. I thought to myself, "who knows me here?!?!"..."Is it a surprise from a Colorado friend who absolutely had ENOUGH with all the snow they're still having?".... Nope, it was Julie a new friend and little spit fire who's been coming to my group rides! She looked sharp in her Capo Bacio Short Sleeved Jersey and matching Capo Bacio Shorts. Julie is just getting comfortable with mountain biking and absolutely loving it. Here's a shot of her enjoying some of the race course that day. Thanks Julie! You made the pain subside and kept me motivated to keep pedaling.

Seeing Julie out there changed my perspective for the rest of the race. Yes, I was still cramping and proceeded to drop my chain one more time, but it reminded me why I love mountain biking, and more importantly why I moved to California. Julie is a great example of an amazing woman who really wants to get into mountain biking. She

has the heart, athletic ability, and focus but just needs a little instruction and company for getting started. I saw a bit of myself in her during group rides as she'd go back and ride and re ride sections until she got it. In a way I feel like I'm giving back what Kerry

White, Gretchen Reeves, Lisa Isom to list a few of the amazing women who've helped and continue to help me along my way. If you ask me, that's worth much more than first place.

So, as I inched my way across the finish line for second place, I reviewed the lessons of actual race tactics I learned that day as well as reminded myself why I race.

Some days you have it, others you don't. When the day comes to an end you're just riding a bike, so have fun and remember to share the fun with others!

Went home with a little cash, a cool medal, some electrolyte mix that Eric and I's verdict is still out on the better flavor of HEED. Strawberry? or Lemon Lime? Great job as he crushed his singlespeed field! Pain and race "mistakes" aside, it was a great time with some amazing people and fun new trails!

What's 6 more hours?

This is the phrase that convinced me to sign up for 18 hours of Fruita solo. I mean, what could be THAT much different from a 12 hour race to an 18 hour race?!?! Well, this past weekend's 18 Hours of Fruita gave me a slap in the face of all the differences.

So, there I was sitting on my indoor trainer on one of the coldest days in Edwards, CO registering for my first 18 hour endurance race. It was our record snowfall season and all I wanted to do was ride my bike. Maybe I registered as an excuse to give friends when I never wanted to take a lift to go skiing. "Well, I need to keep my fitness up"... in reality, I was just over the winter. All I wanted to do was roll on two wheels and push my lungs; which is just what I did. Throughout the winter I sought out every chance and opportunity to stay on my bike outside; Salida, Fruita, Front Range, and even local snow packed trails... I wasn't letting go. These feelings of endless winter motivated my decision to take a job in California.

I took a new job and moved out of the valley quite quickly right before the end of the season. I needed opportunity and new adventure, and none of that was happening in Vail. Ideally, I was wanting to start the job after the race allowing me to train where I felt comfortable and spend plenty of time saying goodbye to the valley I still refer to as home, not to mention the great friends and family who I hold dear. It was tough leaving, and still is. However, leaving so soon and spending two weeks in California before the race was probably the best thing for me. Regardless of the stresses of a new place, new job, different people/lifestyle, etc. I was kind of forced to rest. My riding was kept mellow, partially because I had no idea where I was going. I was spending a lot of time focussing on work, and I was sleeping & eating A LOT. Forced recovery you could say. Something I am absolutely terrible at doing. Needless to say, I felt ready. Having the excitement of seeing great friends and riding my bike in one of my favorite places was all that was on my mind. No thoughts and stress of the race really ever crossed my mind.

Fast forward to race day. I'm very fortunate to have many friends who are much more experienced than I am in mountain bike racing, so I exhausted my resources as to what I should do the day of the race that starts at 12 midnight and ends at 6pm the following day. So, I did

just as Honey Stinger pro endurance racer Kris Cannon said I should. My friends and I prepared everything throughout the day and from 4-11 I did absolutely NOTHING. Slept, ate, laid around. It was harder than it sounds having not seen my friends in awhile and really not knowing when I'll get to see them again. One of my wisest friends Heather Russell was great at yelling at me to go back to the tent and go to bed. Thank you HR!

Wake up call from Ben scratching the tent walls, and I was up like a kid on Christmas morning! I probably got dressed in under 5 minutes and was overly excited to race my bike at night for the first time! Friend, bike mechanic, and overall stud Frank Devlin made sure I ate something sustainable and had a shot of coffee before lining up for the start.

Looking back, the night was kind of a blur. I had plans of keeping my laps between 45-50 minutes all day, but I was feeling stronger than that pace. However smart it was, I quickly threw that out the window and just went for it; keeping my laps between 35-40 minutes. I could hear friend and endurance racer Kerry White's voice in my head saying, "you should slow it down Karen"... and like an adolescent to her mother, I ignored the voice. I was rolling and kept coming across familiar faces and kits I would chat with for awhile, think maybe I should slow my pace to ride with them, then decide to push on. Each lap I came through I was overwhelmed with an amazing crew cleaning my chain, clearing my glasses of dust and fog, shoving food in my face, switching out water bottles, and slapping my spandex to get rolling again. Frank, Heather, Ben, Berly, Corrie, Alex, Tyrone, and Dogger... you're all amazing.

Suns up. This was one of the most memorable parts of the race. As the sun rose, everything changed. The trail seemed to take on new turns and obstacles, and my energy took on a new surge. Not to mention the obvious realization just how dusty I was from the whe

el to wheel tearing of dry singletrack.

Lap after lap after lap, I was loving it... keeping my pace strong and enjoying the company and encouragement of many Vail Valley racers on and off the trail. I felt tremendous support, and owe so much of the days accomplishments to so many amazing people.

It wasn't until nearing 12 noon that I was realizing what the difference 6 hours really makes. That's when it hit me. By this time I was beginning to feel tired, my stomach wasn't wanting food or water, and the sun started to beat me down. It was then that I started inquiring on and standings. At that point I was an hour and a lap in first place. Shocked, this gave me a surge of energy. Knowing this and having some of the best friends keeping me smiling by dressing up in costumes and force feeding me. I kept pedaling.

The afternoon went on and the sun began to make me wilt. Heat and I don't get along that well, and the desert scorched me. Dizzy, hot, and in pain I wanted to quit. I questioned why I

was doing this, and convinced myself I couldn't do it anymore. That it wasn't healthy. This is where Heather's words got me going again. A simple, "Karen, why don't you just spin a lap"... I got up and rolled on. This is where the results started to skew. I was now in second place, 5 minutes behind 1st. The competitive edge in me fired. I was not going to come this far and fall back place by place... as I saw 2nd and 3rd not that far behind me. I began to no longer listen to my music and instead focus on my mind staying strong when my body was feeling weak. "Stay steady and just keep pedaling, Karen"..."Shut up legs, you love it"..."The other girls are feeling the same way". This is where, with company of Heather I rolled out another lap. After that lap I was surged again, and kept going for another... and then Frank joined me on another!

Coming in at 5:25, I knew I was done. Studying the times, I was two laps ahead of Christina Begy and one behind of Annie Fox. Even if I could've mustered up a 35 minute lap at that point I'd have come in after Annie's recorded 25th lap. I was done. Happy with how I rode, I was in a fog of the results. When did I get passed? Where did that hour lead go? At that point I was too exhausted to contest, but a couple friends proceeded to check where things went wrong. They went up and inquired and came back even more confused. Did I do 24 or 25 laps? Did they miss one of my laps? Questions that will never be answered, but regardless I was very happy with how I raced.

Being only my second year trying to forge into the racing world, I couldn't have been happier with how I did. Not to mention the overwhelming amount of support I felt from friends supporting, racing, or just spectating. That in itself was worth the 18 hours of saddle fun.

Many people question the sanity of people who choose to enter into the world of ultra endurance racing. Yes, those of us who enjoy events such as this are probably missing a few screws, but I think it's the challenge that brings me back. Not to mention sharing 18 hours with friends new and old... as well as seeing how far the mind can push the body. We'll see what's next!