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!