It’s been 2 weeks since that fateful day in Smithville, TX. I wasn’t really motivated to write this race recap. For the first time in 4 attempts, the solo winner of Rocky Hill did not read “Caveman Productions”. Rocky Hill has become the single biggest race of the year for me. It is the race that has built my Caveman reputation and spread the word about the power of paleo diet and living. I feel like I have not only fallen short of my personal potential, but have lost credibility with all my readers and supporters. I feel like I have let down my sponsors. My caveman diet and training tactics were overshadowed by more modern approaches of preparation. I was really hoping for a better outcome to give me mental boost and finally get some kind of positive achievement for the year, but instead my year of setbacks and failures continues…

All Race Photos Courtesy of Bobcat13 Photography.Thanks Joel and Bob!

I don’t like making excuses, but in the midst of such a failure, it is useful to look back and try to pin point where things went wrong so I can avoid such mistakes in the future. I knew going in my fitness wasn’t anywhere close to 100%, but I think I still overestimated my abilities just a tad. Confidence is important, but it is not what a Caveman thrives off of, and I feel like I was maybe a bit too cocky going into the race. It’s easy to do when you’ve won the thing so many times. A true Caveman excels with instinct, and I will never confuse the two ever again.

I underestimated my opponents, the course, and the weather. John Russell had improved quite a lot since last year, taking second place in 24 Hour Worlds up in Canmore, Canada earlier this summer. That is a major accomplishment. He said he was just out racing for fun, but I knew he would be the fiercest competitor I’d faced yet at this race. The course was a little more difficult than last year, owing to some rutted out parts from a race held in the rain the week before.

The biggest factor had to be the weather. Even those that had spent the sweltering summer in the brutal Texas heat were complaining how hot it already was by noon Saturday. Heat tolerance used to be something I prided myself on, and even thrived on, but no more. Durango had already received snow the week I left. Our daytime highs were peaking at maybe 60 and going to 26 at night. The humidity is low since it is almost a desert climate. I don’t know if anyone got a reading that day, but we probably started out around 89 and creeped up to 93 by midday. Plus it was humid. Had it been a XC or 6 hour race, I could have handled it, but not a 24, at least not at a pace needed to win.

In the end, I really didn’t have any excuses. I was unprepared physically. I got beat fair and square, badly. I tried to overcome all the obstacles I’ve dealt with the past few months, but just had to face up to the fact that I’m human, and even the toughest cavemen have their limits.

I started out well, in the lead for the first 4 laps. Probably a little too well though. The heat was just killing me at that pace. I was stopping at the water stations and dousing myself with cool water to try and bring my core temp down. It helped, and for a while I thought it would keep me going strong into the night, but by lap 5 my body began shutting down. I had to take some breaks on the trail. On one of them, John passed me, and tried encouraging me to keep going, but I couldn’t. My blood pressure felt extremely high and my lungs were aching.

I took a long break at the end of that lap and watched as more solo riders came in and I fell to 5th place. My body might have been failing, but my mental resolve wasn’t ready to give up yet. I’ve been down before, and have found ways to fight back. I mounted a rally on the 6th lap and was able to pull back up to 2nd place. Lap 7 was slow, but steady. Lap 8 was the first night lap. I was having a hard time getting any calories into my system, and I knew this would be a big problem. For this race, I was not using a sports drink as I have in years past, just water. Even trying to keep water down was hard.

On lap 9, I was hanging on for dear life. I pulled over after cresting a climb to let a racer pass. A few seconds later, John blew by at a blistering pace. I had just been lapped by the leader. This was the nail in the coffin for me. There was no way I could erase that lead. At that point, I wasn’t sure I could even finish the race. My body was broken, my will was broken, my spirit was broken. I’ve faced great adversity in races before, but once the spirit is broken, there isn’t much more one can do.

I scanned in to complete that lap, but did not scan out to start the next one. I changed into some new clothes, tried to eat whatever I felt I could hold down, drank a beer with the YBS boys, and then fell asleep for the rest of the night. The thought of quitting crushed me horribly, especially having invested so much to have been here, especially having been a 3 time champ here, especially with everyone pulling for me like they were, but when you can feel your organs and motor skills failing, it’s best to live to fight another day, and this is what I chose to do.

Sunrise brought a new day and some renewed energy. I wasn’t content to sit by and watch the race go by from the sideline like I did at Warda earlier this year. I thought maybe if I could put in 5 more laps I could get back in the top 5 (I had fallen to 11th overnight). I ate some breakfast, put my stuff back on, and swapped out my gears for a singlespeed. This year, I decided to race with a 1×6 drivetrain so that I wouldn’t have to walk the steeper climbs later in the race. I’m convinced this was a bad idea, although I’m not sure it would have changed the outcome much. I am sure that on this course, I do seem to ride better rocking the one cog.

I ripped a 48:37 lap, the fastest solo lap all day (although it didn’t count for awards since I was out of top 3). I followed that with  52:00 and 53:40 laps. These were the kind of laps I should have been turning the whole race, and would have for sure won the thing had my body not failed me the night before. I had finally reached that “sweet spot” where riding is still painful, but you don’t really notice it. You can go at that pace for a long time. I kept waiting for the sweet spot to arrive around lap 8 or 9, but it never came, things just got worse.

Starting out on my 4th lap of the morning, I knew I would make it back in time to start a 5th, and if I would have any chance at all of making the top 5, I would have to go for it. I contemplated whether or not I wanted to. My 57:47 lap brought me in with about 20 minutes to spare. I felt pretty trashed at this point, but could have gone another lap. Something inside just told me it wasn’t worth it though. I wouldn’t have much to gain, but possibly a lot to lose. Throughout the race I had a few close brushes with trees against my bad shoulder. It had held up amazingly well the whole time, and I didn’t feel like pushing my luck, so that was the last lap of the race for me. In hindsite, I regret this decision too and wish I’d gone out for one more lap. What you have, give, because what you save, you lose forever.

Despite falling apart and coming no where close to the win, the morning effort was at least a small moral victory for me. To get back out there on tired legs with only one gear and rip some really fast laps was not only fun, but reassuring that my Caveman mojo was still intact. Rocky Hill is and always will be dear to my heart, but looking forward I want to be part of the bigger picture. Moab. Tucson. Nationals. Worlds. Some places with more climbing, longer laps, stronger competition, and perhaps a little less heat

Fortunately, coming down for the race wasn’t the only reason for making the trip. Unfortunately, the main reason was no less comforting. What belongings I didn’t take with me the first time, I had to pack up and take with me on the long drive back to Durango. Other than a rental house, I now have absolutely no material stuff in Austin. I’m sure I’ll visit in the future, but this trip felt like a long goodbye. It was very difficult saying goodbye, not so much to the town I called home for 11 amazing years, but mainly my friends, and the woman who I loved so much.

This trip exhausted me physically, mentally, financially, and emotionally. I’m tired, I’m sad, I’m deflated. I just want to put all this behind me and pick up where I left off here in Durango. Things here are finally starting to come together with some new work, new friends, and new adventure.

I want to thank to all my sponsors for helping make my opportunity to race what it is- YBS Bikes, Performance Wellness, Zoe Fitness, Bobcat13 Photography, Ayup lights, and MTBtandems.com. I’m so sorry I couldn’t represent you better this go round. Thanks most importantly to everyone who threw their support and encouragement my way. It was especially cool to meet a lot of new faces who follow this blog that I’ve never met before. I put a lot of heart and soul into this website and always wonder if it is worth it. Hearing your stories lets me know that it is! Congrats to John Russell, the new sheriff in town. He rode hard and smart and his patience early in the race definitely paid off. His “second place curse” is finally over! John and I are good buds so I’m glad he was able to take home the W, he deserved it.

For now, bike season is over. I have no desire to race for quite a while. Since moving to a mountain town with real mountain bike trails, my priorities have shifted more towards just riding and having fun. And not just riding. Hiking, trail running, and maybe within a month, snow activities. I enjoy racing, but the competitive nature of it seems to dilute the most important aspect-fun. It was nice to come back to Texas, but for the time being I don’t really miss it. I wasn’t born in the mountains, but I was born for them. My soul longs for big open spaces, small town life, and adventure.

Thanks for reading.

-Caveman