I made the trek across the beautiful east Texas woods and across the Sabine river into Louisiana with teammates Dustin, Fred, and g/f Colleen to get back into cross country racing. It was my first time to race this course and I was looking forward to the stage format with a short track race and time trial on Saturday and the main event Sunday. The short track was brutal. I maybe lasted 25 mins of the 45 minute race and got pulled. It was a fun little course though. The time trial went a little better. Didn’t place high, but didn’t get last, and I was happy with the effort. Some days I’ve got what it takes for these short races, but at heart I am an endurance rider. So the XC race brought a bit more redemption. Finished mid pack, had no mechanicals, and had a fun time. Ruston is definitely a course worth going to. It was Colleen’s first XC race, and she finished it! Next up is the season finale at Rocky Hill.

I had to ditch Big Tex for the steel hardtail for my second lap. It was a rough ride, and felt sluggish, but got the job done. It was a decent 1:23 or so lap, but felt longer. I felt destroyed, demoralized, and like I had let the team down. I told Jay I maybe had one more lap in me, which I should not have done. I drank a beer and hopped in bed for some rest. I was expecting a teammate to come wake me up when it was time for me to get ready for my next lap, but it never happened. Instead, I wake up and find my team gone. The team captain decided to throw in the towel and save themselves so they could do some cool riding around Moab in the morning. They went back to the cabin in town they rented and hit the hay. I decided I wanted to do a night lap and keep pushing on. So I layered up the wool and set out. The first mile or so was cold (lower 30’s) but the wool kicked in and I warmed up just fine once I hit the climbing. It was nice riding out there at night. Very serene, and it was neat seeing trail lights an base camp from certain areas of the trail. About mile 10, I came across an older female rider whose light had died. She was much slower than I, but I wasn’t in a hurry to get back, so I agreed to ride with her and light the way back to camp. She kept telling me to go on and not worry about her, but I insisted I help. As far away from the finish as she was, it would have really sucked without a light. People had helped me out earlier in the day, it was my turn to return the karma. That’s mountain biking. We made it back and I had gotten cold again from the slow pace, so I hit the sleeping bag for some more sleep and warmth.

Sunrise comes and Colleen and I walk around and get some breakfast tacos and beer for breakfast. I decide that I will finish what I started, team or no team, and do one last lap. I got Big Tex setup with some more trustworthy parts and used it for the final lap. It was all good until my seatpost broke around mile 8 where it connects to the saddle. It would’ve been a major blow had I still been competing, but I just laughed it off. Strap it to the camelback and start riding standing up. 3 miles of that crap and I was wishing I had a saddle. Then it hit me, I had a beefy rubber band around my spare tube. Maybe I could use it to hold the saddle down on the seatpost. It actually worked, as long as I didn’t bump it too hard. It got me to the aid station where some zip ties and duck tape fixed it even better. Into the finish tent I rolled with a sigh of relief. The race wasn’t quite what I thought it would be, and I hadn’t achieved the outcome I’d been hoping for. Sure, there were mechanicals, but I should’ve had better equipment for the job. I was unprepared. Not only that, but I really felt like the course kicked my ass. Even with my best lap time of 1:20 or so, the guys I needed to hang with were running 1:10’s or lower. It was a big slap in the face for yet another disappointing national appearance. But you know what, I stayed out there and didn’t quit. A cozy cabin would’ve been nice, but I didn’t drive 1200 miles to throw in the towel, and for not quitting, I am grateful. Who knows what my next big race will bring. But I will for sure be better prepared, better trained, and more mentally tough for the challenge at hand.

The winds continued throughout the night and into the start of the race. I had the privilege of doing the LeMan’s running start and busting out the fastest lap I could to get team in good position. The run really kicked my ass and left me pretty winded by the time I reached my bike. I get going and start passing the slow pokes who somehow out-ran me. Heading into the singletrack was a huge cluster-f. Some parts tighten down to only allow 1 or 2 riders in, but for the most part it’s jeep trail and you can pick whatever line you want. It’s not always the easiest line, but if it gets you around slower riders then it’s the best line. The climbing and elevation was absolutely killing me. It didn’t take much effort to get me redlining. Something just didn’t feel right. At least Big Tex was feeling good, and I was slowly making my way up. Going down some rocky technical descents, my front tire blew off the rim. I was in disbelief, but got to work putting a tube in. I brought a big air CO2, but not a hand pump. I had a hell of a time getting the tube to air up and went through all my CO2. It was enough air to get going, but I didn’t trust it from pinching in anymore technical drops, so I was having to ride extra cautious. About the same time my rear brake decided to poop out, so that made the descents even more fun. A drop snuck up on me and due to my equipment deficiencies I lost control and crashed. I did not realize it immediately, but the crash put a cut in the sidewall, and my tire would lose air slowly for about another mile before it got too low. Things were looking really bad now, because I only brought one tube. I came across a guy who had broke his chain, and asked if he had a hand pump. He did, so I got both tires aired back up and got going. Eventually the back tire succumbed to the leak and came off the rim. All I could do was start walking. There weren’t too many people behind me at this point and I remained optimistic that one of them could help me out. One guy threw me a tube, but it was schraeder and did not fit in my rim, so I kept walking. Another guy drops me a pump, but I still didn’t have a tube to fit. A chick comes by on a cool steel hardtail with the same Mary bars I run on my hardtail asking if she could help. I asked if she had a Presta tube. She did not think she did since her wheels ran Schraeder, but she checked, and sure enough she did, so I traded the one I had for hers. Got it fixed and finally got rolling again. The team was pretty bummed when I came in with a 1:50 lap time when we needed 1:15’s to compete, but they kept on going. I felt bad, but I had done all I could do, except leave my bad equipment luck with me in Texas

October 13, 2008

I had built this race up for quite some time. I was excited to be returning to 24 hour racing, albeit with a 4 man team this go round. I was confident in my health, my gear, my teammates, and our support crew (including my lovely cupcake). Colleen and I planned on driving up together, doing a little camping along the way to break up the driving, doing the race, and then doing some more camping/sightseeing afterwards since the race site is so close to Arches and Canyonlands National Parks and Dead Horse State Park. The long drawn out beat down realistically started before we even got to the race site. The drive from Austin to Balmorhea State Park in west Texas the first day wasn’t all that bad, and swimming in the springs Thursday morning was quite nice. After a crappy layover in El Paso to correct some issues we were having with Colleen’s little car, we headed west across New Mexico before turning north in Deming to take a scenic route through the mountains that straddle the NM/Arizona state line. It was very pretty, but very slow go, especially as we hit more elevation and twisty passes. Super hungry and tired, we came across this awesome little diner in Alpine, the first town you hit in Arizona driving west along US 180. After a half rack of Mesquite smoked ribs, a baked potato, salad bar, garlic toast, and some rabbit food for Colleen (she’s vegetarian), we were ready to hit the road again. The drive up 191 to the Utah border seemed like it would never end. Mile upon mile of dark, empty, desolate Arizona Indian Reservation wasteland made that drive much longer than it should have been. We hoped optimistically that we would make our Hovensweep National Monument campground in Utah at a decent time, but no such luck. Instead, we found an RV campground right north of Bluff, UT at 3am in the morning. After an exhaustive day of driving, we called it a night and setup camp to catch about 4 hours of sleep before waking up and finishing the remaining 100 miles or so. We arrived at the team area to find very high winds, and no team. I had made a good effort to make it there before noon to pre-ride the course with the team, but here it was not even 11am and those jokers left without me. Oh well. First priority was to raise ‘Ol Glory and the battle flag, then change and pre-ride. I brought with me the rigid steel 29er hardtail with a 2×9 gear setup (30/42) and Big Tex, the fully 29er. I was hoping to ride the hardtail for the early laps and then switch to the squishy for the more fatigued laps. The pre-ride started out promising for the hardtail, but shortly let me know that it wouldn’t be practical for that course. You see, the trail they use for this race is not really mountain bike single track. It’s mostly jeep trail, and moto cross trail. The locals will tell you that no one goes out there to mountain bike, instead they ride ATV’s and dirt bikes. It is one hell of a mountain bike course. When it’s not rocky and technical, it’s deep sand that sucks the life right out of you, not to mention the 30-40 mph winds we were having to deal with. Compared to my home turf, it also had a lot of elevation gain ( 1400 ft, and base elevation is 5,500 ft)

Well, it was about time I sat down and created a website to track achievements, honor my sponsors, and write long drawn out mini-sodes that honestly, 10 or so folks might read. At any rate, here it is! I hope you enjoy it.

So, things were looking up after the Urban Assault. Sure, it wasn’t a true test of athletic prowess, but it did take a good deal of effort and skill. One of my top 5 career victories came about a month later at the Austin Rapha Roller races held at Mellow Johnny’s on July 12th…

(In movie guy voice)
“In a town built by roadies…

In the house a roadie built…

Four young outsiders, decide to take the challenge of a lifetime. A challenge…that will define them for eternity. A challenge that will never be forgotten…

This is their story, a story of grit, determination, chain, gears, and tires…a story to change it all”
(Quoted from Teammate Jason Beer, from our team forum)

Caveman is B-A-C-K. Thanks for everyone’s support last night. My name might have been on the final line, but it was a team win. Thommy and Colleen kept my legs fresh between matches, kept me hydrated. Rico was Rico. Ian called it early in the race that I was going home with a new track frame, and so he was great inspiration. Other various teammates kept tabs on my position and kept me pumped up. Even people who weren’t teammates but were fellow mountain bikes were cheering me on, and that made the victory that much better for all the fat tire lovers out there. I would like to also mention that we had three mashers make it to the quarter finals, more than any other team, and it would’ve been all 4 had Ian’s foot not come unclipped on his first round. Interestingly enough, the 4th and 5th rounds were the hardest. I left absolutely everything out there on those two rounds The final round was tough, but I was more prepared than my worthy opponent. With our practice Thursday night, we practiced 20, 30, and 40 second runs. I discovered that If i paced myself early on, i could finish super strong and not fade. So I planned to start easy, let him get the lead, let him get excited about the lead, and then let him blow up and then blow him out of the water, and if you were there, you that’s exactly how it went down. Shame on that announcer for betting against me. On a positive note, several people bet for me and went home a little richer. If you were one of them, you owe me a beer. I am super tired after successfully completing my first triathlon this morning and will be taking it easy for a few days. I’ll try to get the IRO track frame built up and let the mashers ride it on the next pub crawl.

Here is the recap from the Rapha site:
http://www.rapha.cc/index.php?page=512

So, my journey back to the top officially started at the final TMBRA spring race held at X-bar back on May 18. I knew I couldn’t start back at the Pro/Semi-Pro/Elite level so i raced expert in my age group. I didn’t know what to expect having taken so much time off and still overcoming injury. I struggled for most of the race and finished a dismal 6th place. It’s hard having a result like that after dominating that class for so long, and feeling pretty beat up from a tough course, but you have to start somewhere. Following that race I eased back into training and prepared for the upcoming urban assault with lovely g/f Colleen. We were determined to lay the hurt down and get a podium finish, but at the same time have a lot of fun doing it.

Here is a short recap of our success:

That was the absolute funnest race I have ever done. Team Apocalyptic Aardvarks talked the talk all week, and then we went out and WALKED THE WALK. We did not bring home the desired gold, but SILVER ain’t all that bad either.

Checkpoint strategy was the key to a podium finish. Second to that was route planning and improvisation skills. We did not run a single red light, because we avoided them in the first place. In places where we absolutely had to cross a light, we would either get lucky and get a green or employ other legal ways of crossing. Living around campus and downtown for the past 8 years and commuting almost daily definitely paid off yesterday.
Thirdly was our execution of checkpoints. We did not flounder one single challenge. I can’t wait to see what the winning Co-ed time was and come up with an even better plan for next year. If you have never done this race, the $60 entry fee is well worth it. Get out there and try it!

I’d like to thank my lovely girlfriend Colleen for suffering like a dog trying to stick on my wheel, executing near flawlessly on the challenges, and getting our team jerseys made up. Rumor has it she might be joining the team soon for some more masher triathlete representation.

Thanks also to Dustin and all the other volunteers who made this race happen.

It is with great joy that I return to cycling. After what has felt like a couple of years off the bike (more like 3 months), therapy and the body’s own healing mechanisms have progressed far enough for me to start training again. What better time than with the arrival of 3 new mountain bikes! Out with the old, in with the new. My quest for the next 24 hour finish starts now. It will be a long time before I get my 24 hour physique back, and will likely be Single Speeding some Texas races, and maybe even hopping into some expert races, but for the moment, I’m just happy to be back in the saddle.

Hope dangles on a string

Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye

And roped me in
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated

-Dashboard Confessional

The body is a resilient thing. I found this out first hand back in October 2007 after winning the 24 hours of Rocky Hill. It is, however, with limits, as I painfully found out at the 24 hours in the Old Pueblo (Tucson, AZ) the second weekend of February 2008. I had some bike fit issues and was just a bit under-trained (more accurately I was mis-trained, more for XC racing) for that first 24 hour race in Smithville. I think this led to a nagging knee pain that lasted right up until the week before Tucson. A few months of research and physical therapy had finally relieved me of the pain I’d been dealing with all winter, through a few cyclo-cross races and the 2 opening races of the Texas Marathon series. Although the discomfort was gone, I was doubtful I’d be physically ready for the race since the injury had limited my training. 24 hour races are the last place to harbor doubt, but I had already paid the $135 entry fee and agreed to carpool with teammates that would be competing on a 4 man team, so I wasn’t going to turn back. Mentally, I was more prepared for this race than any other race I’d entered. I had packed my bags early, making sure every piece of equipment I might need was in its place. Nutrition was well planned out and much better than the last race. More carbs, more fat, more options to choose from, more ways to get it down. My game plan was set. Ride smooth, ride consistent, take minimal breaks, just keep pedaling. I learned a great bit from the last race, but this one was a national race with national talent. It wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, even if everything went as planned. I was still hopeful of a top 5 finish, among 90-100 entrants, the largest MTB field I’ve ever raced against. This course was much different than the Rocky Hill course. 17 mile laps compared to 10. 1200 ft elevation gain compared to about 900. 30 degree overnight lows compared to 58. Cactus instead of pine trees. Wide open jeep roads and desert singletrack-overall less twisty. In a way it played to my strengths and my bike’s strength, but that wouldn’t matter. I was about ¾ through lap 7, about mile 110 or so, and I started to feel a sharp pain right below the left patella. I knew it was only going to get worse and if I kept pushing on, it would do some pretty bad damage. So right then and there, I was faced with a pretty tough decision. I was a little over halfway though the 24 hour clock. I was moving up the ranks to where I wanted to be before really laying down the hurt in the late night hours when most people start to cave in. That’s when the race is really won. I had the energy to keep going. I definitely had the desire. Too bad I didn’t have the knees. I rolled back into camp and called the race. I’m not a quitter, and in fact, this was the first mountain bike race that I’ve ever thrown in the towel on. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so heartbroken over a decision like that. I knew it was the right one though, and I knew I had still put in a pretty good fight. I did not hold regret, only frustration that my body gave out before my mind. I drank a little liquor with a friend of a friend out there to cheer us on and have some fun, and passed out in my tent til sunrise. Woke, got some warm clothes on, ate some food, and pretty much fiddled around camp and the expo area all morning. I got to thinking that maybe the rest I had overnight would let me do another lap. Once the thought was in my head, I just couldn’t get it out, so I suited back up, and at 11am, 1 hour before closing time, I set out for my 8^th and final lap. If I was going to get 1 last lap in, I was gonna do it in style. Not only did I don my Texas State Marathon champion jersey that I had earned last year, I blazed that trail in 1:11, a faster time than several of the 4 man team riders were putting up. My last lap superhero effort was enough bump me back up to 29^th of 92. Not the top 5 I was looking for, but a morale victory and a bit of redemption nonetheless. That brings me to now. The internal injuries I have sustained from this race are a bit more serious than the last 24 hour race. They are not surgery kind of serious, but after careful listening to trusted people with experience in this area, I have decided they are season-ending serious. So not only did I have to quit the biggest race I’ve ever wanted to complete, I’m ditching the spring TMBRA season. That was an even tougher decision to make, but one I felt absolutely necessary. Sometimes you have to take a step back to take 2 steps forward. Racing on injuries only makes you slower. So, I’ve got my sights set on the next big race, 24 hours of Moab on Oct. 11th-the single largest 24 hour race on the globe. Our team was planning a trip out there as sort of vacation, but also to do some more national events. I’m undecided whether I’ll attempt solo again, or try the 4 man thing, but either way, my game plan remains the same. Take as much time off as needed to get healed. Jump into very light base training. Step it up a notch for a month or two. Then step it up a couple of more notches for a month. By now it’ll be mid summer, so perhaps I can do some local rides or races. I’ll have one last month of very intense training, 2 weeks of taper, and then race time. If I train properly and stay disciplined, I will avoid injury, kick some serious tail at Moab, and hopefully be able to finish out the fall TMBRA season in style. I’m out for vindication. Moab is where I’m going to get it.

-Greg

The race with Lance was just child’s play. This week I, prepare diligently for the toughest race I have ever signed up for, 24 hours in the Old Pueblo, Tucson, AZ. The last 24 hour race I did back on Oct 20 was tough, don’t get me wrong. But it was a learning experience. I was figuring out what 24 hour racing was all about. I felt the pain, and then I dealt it. The human body is such a resilient thing, usually more resilient than the mind. These races are about mental toughness, preparedness, and heart. This go round, I’m up against world class athletes, most notably Tinker Juarez .He is arguably as famous to mountain biking as Lance is to road biking. He won’t be the only one pushing me to the absolute limit. There are 135 people in my category total. I didn’t get to train as hard over the winter as I wanted to due to a nagging knee injury, but despite my fitness doubts I remain optimistic and feel healthy. You better believe I’ve got the Eye of the Tiger with me, and you better believe I’m shooting for a podium finish. I will be traveling with teammates Jay and Nick, who are signed up with two other teammates out west for a pretty bad ass 4 man team. They’re gunnin for a top ten. Keep us in your thoughts as we depart TX Thursday evening and return Monday afternoon.

Long Live Long Rides