Winter is here in Durango, and it’s still a few days away from the winter solstice. The days are short (in terms of daylight hours) and it has cooled considerably. We’re currently on the tail end of a cold front that brought night time lows to -3 and only limited highs to about 27. This is as cold as weather as I’ve ever experienced my entire life. However, I have acquired some warmer clothing since my stay here and it’s not all that bad. We’ve had some decent snow here in town, and in fact, I’ve been commuting to work on my new snow bike in up to 4″ of it, but it’s not quite cold enough for a lot of to stick around, except for north slopes and shaded areas. The ski resort a half hour up the road, well, that is a different story. Last I heard they were reporting a 40″ base.

I was able to snag a volunteer position at the ski resort for the winter. In exchange for 14 days of my time, I get a season lift ticket (about a $800 value). More importantly, I got arguably one of the coolest volunteer positions available, a snowshoe tour guide. Last weekend we had a voluntary snowshoeing orientation up on top of the mountain. A few feet of fresh powder had fallen the previous days and we were out to break some new trail for the season. I have never snowshoed before, but there’s really not much to it. If you are treading fresh deep powder on hilly terrain, it’s actually quite a workout and a lot of fun. Up on top of the mountain and out of bounds, you are traversing undeveloped land. There are no groomed slopes, not structures of any kind, no logging, no signs of human intervention whatsoever, unless you aren’t the lead dog.

The snow glistens, the wind stirs tiny crystals from the fir and spruce trees. You happen upon rabbit and fox tracks. The trail winds through trees and into meadows that in the summer time flourish with wildflowers but are now blanketed in a sea of deep powder. There are no machines, no artificial sounds, no obligations, no time constraints : just you, the forest, and the snow. It is quite a beautiful thing.

I try and paint this idyllic portrait for you so you can understand where life is taking me these days. Moving to Durango has been an extraordinarily profound life changing event. This blog was primarily established to track my racing results and progress, but racing is no longer a priority for me. I do not possess the talent, time, and resources to be at the level I truly would like to be at. This is besides the point though.

The main point to take from this post is Durango has changed me, and probably not in the way that you would expect-certainly not in the way I expected. I thought moving to a place with some of the best mountain biking in the world would make me a better rider and sharpen my competitive desire. While it has definitely made me a better rider, it has somehow quieted my desire to race.

It’s funny how life was in Texas. For some odd reason, serious cyclists feel this urge to race all the time. It’s not uncommmon to see people race all year long in road, mountain, and cyclocross, maybe even triathlon. No one tells them they have to be at every single race TMBRA or TXBRA puts on each year. They certainly don’t get paid to do so (except for a very small handful) In fact, racing is a super expensive hobby. Yet, there is still this internal voice in their heads saying that they just have to race. I know, because I was one of those people. The emphasis that racers put on results, benchmarks, goals, whatever, it just isn’t healthy. Here in Colorado, lots of people still race, but they aren’t as crazy about results as are all my buddies back home. It’s more about the ride, the people, the experience, the natural beauty.

A mid pack Cat 2 racer here is just as strong as a top Cat 1 in Texas. A fast Cat 1 here could easily hold his own against a Pro in Texas. Sure, living here can make you a better rider, but it doesn’t necessarily make you a better racer, mainly because you would rather just enjoy the ride rather than bury yourself at 90% max heart rate and be on the throttle with your head down the entire time. Racing takes away the fun factor, and fun is the number one reason people move to Durango. Epic rides through the mountains. Ripping downhill sections. Cresting 13,000′ mountains on foot. Shredding powder in the winter .Floating the river in the summer. It truly is all about the journey, NOT the destination. Racing puts too much emphasis on the destination, not the journey. 12 and 24 hour races are a little different, but they’re still races.

For this reason, I’m stepping down from racing for an indefinite period of time. No more “training”, just playing. No more strict dieting, no more bike or gear upgrades, just playing in the mountains, on my terms, on my time. Truth be told, I’ve even been slacking on my Caveman roots. I more or less stick to a Caveman diet, but more and more things like flour tortillas (for breakfast burritos), hamburgers and fries, chicken tenders, and a few other forbidden items (like beer and my housemates homemade banana nut bread) have crept back into my diet. Life is just too damn short to not enjoy things that are just really enjoyable.

I only work out when I’m motivated. Biking, hiking, skiing, snow shoeing, and living at 6500′ generally are plenty to keep my fitness at a good level. Paying work is still a bit of a problem, but I do have enough to get by. Getting by is the name of the game in this town anyways. Even though there are hundreds of houses over $350,000, I never seem to meet the owners of such properties, usually just the people that rent them out, and like me and most every other bike or ski bum who lives here, they’re just getting by. We wouldn’t want it any other way though.

Since I won’t be racing for a while, I’m not sure how often I’ll blog, but this blog isn’t just about racing, its about adventure, so I’m sure I’ll do something once a month still. I’d love to share with you all of my adventures, but words just wouldn’t do them justice, and besides, the mountains are calling…

Mmmmm…Fresh powder…

Thanks to all who have supported me in my journeys thus far. Please realize I’m not quitting, just shifting gears. The best is still yet to come. Keep an eye out around New Years for my final 2011 post. Happy Holidays to you and yours.

Caveman

 

This very Wednesday, November 23, 2011, three key events took place. The night before I found out that Durango did indeed have it’s own Turkey Trot. They have a one mile fun run for $2, or you can pay a little more ($9) for a 5 mile race. Having not trained,run much lately, or otherwise prepared for such a demanding event, the choice was obvious. I signed up for the 5 miler. I’ll let you know how this pans out… Event #2 occurred slightly after #1. I was running barefoot quite a bit until it got cold here. The only shoes I had that were anywhere near suitable for running in the cold were my Xterra trail running shoes that I won at a race a few years back. They are good for ultra technical terrain, but not so much for road running, especially for someone coming from a barefoot background. The thick cushioning and bulkiness is just annoying (and doesn’t promote good form) So I broke down and finally bought some Merrell minimalist shoes.

I went with the Tough Glove, mostly for the way it fit, but also because of the old school leather look. These shoes will not only be a great running shoe on or off road, but a great minimal shoe to wear around town. You can check out the Merrell barefoot collection at Eastern Mountain Sports

The biggest event of the day came after sundown. I wasn’t planning on going downtown this particular evening, but I caught wind that a good friend was going to be at Derailed Saloon to watch a so-so band, so I made my way over there to try and find them. My friend had already left by the time I arrived, but I saw the unmistakable flyer on the door: 2nd Annual Turkey Testical Festival!  I had seen this flyer in the men’s restroom about a month previous, and made a mental note to be in attendance that night, but had totally forgotten about it until my late night stroll.

With 15 minutes to spare, I signed up and began to mentally prepare myself for the task at hand. I looked around the bar to size up my competition. I figured my Caveman instinct might give me an advantage since I had no problem eating organ meats, but there were some pretty burly and drunk dudes in presence that actually looked much crazier and hungrier than I was. I am competitive in nature, but this was completely new territory for me, plus I had already eaten a pretty decent dinner only a few hours before. No worries, I had to crush self doubt and focus on my victory. The format was simple. 21 People signed up, so there would be 4 heats of about 5 contestants each. Winners of each heat would advance to the final round. Each competitor would start with 1 pound of turkey testicles and have 2 1/2 minutes to stuff their mouths with as much balls as possible. If they finished a basket, they would be given another, and so on. There were bountiful pitchers of PBR beer to thin out the viscosity and help wash this rare delicacy down.

My name got drawn for the first round. It was looking good until this super burly, pretty drunk, extremely rambunctious, wolverine dude got called up next to me. I knew he would be the man to beat. Having never entered any kind of eating contest before, much less one involving giant bird testicles, I was un-versed on how to quickly and efficiently lay waste to copious amounts of meat in as little time as possible. I understand it involves relaxing the throat and just swallowing, as well as using liquids (beer in this case) to your advantage, but I had not the practice, nor the barbaric willpower of the man sitting next to me. I was barely able to put away the first pound of meat in 150 seconds while my mighty foe was just about ready to start on his third pound.

I do not know that I have ever been dealt such an ass whooping as I did this very night, but at the same time, never was an ass whooping so much fun and so delicious. In case you are wondering, they are lightly breaded and fried, much the same way calf fries are. Taste kinda like dark chicken, with a slight hint of white turkey meat. I’d recommend them! (although I think they are nearly impossible to find). The guy that slaughtered me in round one went on to win the final round and earn his trip to Las Vegas. Next year I shall put forth a little more preparation and work on my mental toughness to try and crack the podium.

I’ll be spending Thanksgiving in Durango this year. It’s only the second time in 30 years that I haven’t spent it with family in Terrell. I just couldn’t afford the trip home, at least with Christmas around the corner. Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends and family back home. Always remember to count your blessings, not your problems. Go Cowboys and Hook ‘Em Horns.

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

 

It is hard to believe that 24 Hours of Rocky Hill is now less than 6 days away. I’ve trained as much as time, finances, and life have allowed. Yet, I still feel unprepared.

Earlier this week I injured my bad shoulder doing a full body plyometric workout. Up to this point, I have done some heavy lifting and hard physical labor, with my shoulder seeming to take everything just fine. However, it wasn’t ready for the intense explosive nature of this plyo workout.

The resulting pain was severe. It almost felt like the arm came out of socket again (it didn’t), but that workout was over as well as anything the day after (which was yesterday.) Today, I woke up and it felt much better. The sun was back out too after a week of rain and snow. I was very anxious to hit some trail for my last hard long workout before I begin a taper.

It just so happened that the biggest football game of the year was today though, TX vs. OU. Kickoff was a 10am, so I made it over to Carver’s for breakfast and watched the first half. That was all I needed to see. Texas was getting spanked, and I had better things to do than hang around and watch this thrashing, like ride a bike.

By the time I tweaked the bike (I upgraded the prototype 1×5 drivetrain I was testing out to a 1×6 ), and got dressed/packed, it was already close to 2pm. I wanted to ride the Colorado trail up high where the fresh powder was, but I knew this would be a 6 hour + ride and that would have me pedaling home in the dark, and cold. If something were to go wrong, I would probably be stranded too close to dark, so I decided against a long CT ride and rode up to Horse Gulch instead.

The time off the mountain bike from rain and injury gave me a boost. I was absolutely shredding the trail out there. It was barely dry enough to ride following all the precipitation earlier in the week. Some places were a tacky peanut butter that zapped your energy. Definitely slowed me down, but this wasn’t such a bad thing. More saddle time and a little bit of resistance training.

The views from Telegraph hill and Raiders Ridge looking towards Silver Mountain to the NW were amazing. The glow of snow covered peaks this close to town this early in the year was just spectacular. While dropping down into the meadow from Mike’s trail, I ran over a 4 foot snake in the middle of the trail. Scared me at first, but I went back to check it out and the snake was fine. The cold must have slowed him down, so I picked him up and carried him a few yards into the woods.

I rode for about 4 hours before deciding it was close enough to dusk that I better head back. I made it off the trail just as the temps started to dive. I had all my wool get-up this time, so I stayed nice and toasty.

This cold mountain air actually felt refreshing for the first time since my move here. I have adapted quickly to the cold and am actually beginning to embrace it. I find myself wanting to venture deep into the wilderness and near tree line where the heavy snow fall has already accumulated. I long to leave the modest comfort of the RV to spend a few nights in the snow.

I need to save up a little money to buy some nicer gear before I do this though. I don’t own any technical fabrics that make snow hiking comfortable. I only have a 3 season tent. My sleeping bag is only rated for 20d. I have some warm hunting boots, but no snow shoes or skis. In a perfect world, I would Jeremiah Johnson it up, and go hunt some animals with a thick fur coat, but this isn’t really an option, so I’ll just have to wait until I can buy a nice down jacket.

But I digress. I’m leaving Durango for Austin Tuesday evening. I’ll spend the night somewhere around Sante Fe, then finish the long arduous drive across eastern New Mexico and West Texas on Wednesday. I’ve got stuff to take care of during the day Thursday and Friday, but my evenings might be free. Get in touch if you would like to hang out. Otherwise, I’ll be at Rocky Hill Ranch Saturday morning setting up camp and getting ready to ride the race of my life.

Last year, I won, but I only did 21 laps in about 21 1/2 hours. There was still 2 1/2 hours of ride time left. This year, assuming bike nor body aren’t seriously damaged, I ain’t stopping. I’m going the distance-the full 24 hours. Not only that, I’m going harder. I think I probably said the same thing last year, and I did go harder, but after I realized it wasn’t necessary to go longer in order to secure victory, I didn’t. I wanted off that bike ASAP.

There will be no such backing down this go round. If no Solo competitor is still around to push me to the limit, then screw it, I’ll race against the teams. The fastest solo lap would be nice, but the fastest overall lap would be even nicer. The fastest LeMan’s runner would be cool too, although unlikely. These are all lofty goals that will require a level of execution and mental toughness I’ve never accomplished before. Just because I haven’t done it, doesn’t mean it can’t be done.

Texas, I’m coming home. Can’t wait to see all my friends and feel that warm sunshine upon my face.

 

 

We’re having another wet spell here in Durango. The trails are too wet to ride. It’s in the mid 40’s out. Rain comes and goes, but the skies stay gray. I needed to hop on a bike to ramp up my last week of intense training. Don’t have a bike trainer, don’t have any rollers, don’t have a gym membership.  Time to suck it up. Pull out the wool, take out the rain jacket, hop on the skinny wheels, and head for the mountains.

I generally like to knock road riding, but in times like this, it’s all I got for putting in some miles. I did do my first Insanity Asylum workout today, and it was pretty killer, however,  my arse and legs need some serious saddle time to toughen up for the beating they’re gonna take in 10 days.

It was nice to change it up with a road ride. I decided to do an out and back route to Lemon Reservoir. Never been up that way, but always heard it was pretty, along with Vallecito a few more miles to the east. Heading out of town on Florida road, I could see the high peaks to the west were getting snow. It probably won’t be too long before we get snow in town.

Fall is in full swing here. All of the deciduous trees are turning from green to vibrant hues of reds, yellows, and oranges. It is quite spectacular, and I must admit, best appreciated from the steady clip of a road bike. I wanted to take a camera, but I was afraid of getting rained on.

Water didn’t start falling until I got close to the CR 240/243 fork. Up to then, my upper body was nice and toasty in a wool jersey and wool arm warmers. I didn’t think it would be cold enough for wool leg warmers, so I just brought my lycra ones. Big mistake.

I stopped and threw my rain jacket on and that kept everything dry except my legs and feet. It’s a little bit of a climb to the dam from the fork in the road, and even though I was getting pretty wet, I was working hard so it didn’t bother me.

Once at the top I took a few minutes to enjoy the view. I turned around and started heading back to town. The descent was bone chilling, and kicked water all over my shoes soaking them completely. My core was still warm, but everything from the thigh down was painfully cold. It did not help that the ride into town was mostly downhill and I would clocking 35-45mph quite easily. Well, moving at that pace did get me back quicker, but just made the cold worse. Strangely, I yearned for some climbs since they would slow me down and help me build some heat back up.

There were a few climbs, but my momentum pulled me up and over most of them. The cold got to me mentally, at first. This was a good thing. I took those wussy thoughts and buried them deep in the hurt locker. It was very uncomfortable, but nothing life threatening, I knew some dry warm clothes were only a half hour up the road. Thinking about how nasty the weather was only wasted precious energy. Instead, I chose to enjoy the changing leaves, the smell of smoke coming from mountain cabins, and the thrill of spinning 125 rpm in the 53×11, in the rain.

I didn’t have a camera, but here is a pic I stole from another site:

 

 

This past weekend I made the 1 hour trek down to Farmington, NM with friend and pro racer Sage Wilderman to try my hand at a cross country race. This would be the first XC I’ve done since the painful experience at Rocky Hill back in June (my return to racing following the dislocated shoulder), and only the 3rd XC I’ve done all year. The Road Apple Rally is the longest continuously run mountain bike race in the country, turning 31 years old this go round.

XC used to be my bread and butter, but I don’t eat bread anymore, and consequently, it would seem I don’t enjoy XC all too much anymore either. At least, on this course, with the level of competition in this part of the country. The course sits at about 6000′, has rolling hills, lots of road portions, lots of sand, and hundreds or berms or g-outs that really beat you down after a while. The course description said “minimal climbing”, maybe by Colorado standards, but still probably twice as much as most Texas courses. The only sustained climbs were on the road portions, but the course was full of short kickers, some very steep. There were hardly any technical sections at all. This would really be a great course for a roadie, which is probably why I didn’t fare so well…The most difficult task at hand was learning how to roll over all the berms at high speed while maintaining control. It’s much harder than you think and requires a little bit of BMX skills. I almost wish I had ridden with at rigid fork because the suspension rebound over these undulations was hard to predict and resulted in a few washouts, one that sent me flying off the bike.

Anyhow, there was a mass start for Pro, Cat 1, Cat 2, and singlespeed since we were all doing the 30 mile loop. There was a lot of road riding and doubletrack at the start that allowed everyone to get seeded properly before the singletrack. I don’t have a Pro license yet and didn’t think they would let Cat 1’s race the Pro cat, so I entered the Cat 1, racing my new age group for the very first time, 30-34. Good thing I didn’t overestimate my abilities…The Pros and Cat 1 studs started with a blistering pace out of the start line onto the road. I found myself quickly winded, and having to slow down to something a little more sustainable. I’ve been training a lot the past few weeks, but nothing close to this intensity.

Several racers passed me before entering the singletrack, but I had no choice but to let them go and just do the best I could. Besides, 30 miles was a pretty good loop and I usually get faster as I go.

I was pinned for the entire race. 95-100% max heart rate. There weren’t many places to recover, and the places that did offer a little relief from pedaling did not offer much relief for the rest of the body. I can’t emphasize how much those berms sucked after about 20 miles.

Eventually, my 24 hour stamina kicked in and I was able to push it hard for the last third of the course. I picked up about 10 more spots, but still got schooled by 30 or so other racers, a lot of whom were older Cat 1’s and singlespeeders. It was really humbling having spent so much time training and have finished this far back. The winner, Travis Brown, finished a whole 21 minutes ahead of me. Talk about smoking fast!

Whatever. I wasn’t training for this race, but rather using it for training for the real race, the Republic of Texas  24 hour Championship, Rocky Hill. I’m still obviously playing catch up with my fitness, but I should be in decent shape come Oct 15. I couldn’t track down any race photos, but here is one I snagged from last year’s race.

Ok, it’s noon Thursday, and as promised, I’m revealing my newest business venture. I am pleased to announce that I am now an Independent Beachbody Coach. You have probably seen an infomercial about one of the several products this company provides. I was first introduced to the company with P90X back in 2009. Colleen and I saw one of the infomercials on TV and decided to try it out. It’s one of the best purchases either one of us ever made! If you didn’t already know this, I credit P90X as one of my ultimate success secrets of 24 Hour Mountain Bike racing, as well as an incredible tool for maintaining my Paleo Fitness. When I found out Beachbody had a coaching program, I jumped all over it!

I have setup a separate page on this blog that goes over the products and services. Click the “Fitness Coaching” tab up top, or just click here.  I am super excited about this new opportunity! Please spread the good word!

 

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is
more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded
genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated failures.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.” ~ Calvin Coolidge

Real Caveman undoubtedly faced enormous hardship in their times. I can’t imagine how rough life must have been in ancient times. And to think that so many people in this day and age think they have it bad. The cavemen of those times had two choices: succumb to hardship and die, or persist and survive.

I haven’t faced hardship anywhere near the level my caveman brethen did, but I’d be lying if I said  things have been easy the past few months. The separation from my wife has took a huge emotional toll on me. A lot of you have already heard the news, but if you haven’t , Colleen and I have decided that it is in our best interest to end the marriage. She hates it when I post stuff like this on the blog, and I’m sorry Cupcake, but everyone is going to find out eventually and they might as well hear it from me here.

I didn’t just leave behind my marriage, I left behind my home, my family, my friends, everything that was familiar. I left for a place I hardly knew at all. It wasn’t a move I was planning on, it just sort of happened. Luckily, I adapt well to change, but it wasn’t the abrupt initial change that threw me off, this was actually kind of fun and exciting. It was the gradual realization that I didn’t have any friends here. I didn’t have anyone I could fall back on. I hardly had any money and no work lined up. I’ve been struggling to find work to this day. Yeah, Cavemen are tough, but they aren’t made of stone.

You read the last post about how crappy last week was. Kind of regret using the adjective I really used, but it really was a bad week. Well that is all behind me now.

For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning

Psalm 30:5

(Thanks to my high school sweetheart Joy Johnson for sharing this verse with me a long time ago)

This week things are different. Completely different. My back pain is almost all gone, I’ve been putting in some serious training time ( almost forgot what it feels like to be sore-it feels awesome!), I’ve made some new friends, I have finally found a little local work, and my entrepreneurial spirit has absolutely exploded. I am currently laying the foundation for a new business venture that will not only provide steady, growing income, but will help others in ways I’ve only dreamed about. Those dreams are about to become reality. And this is just one new business. I’ve actually taken some action to possibly start 2 or 3 other ventures. They are more long term, but the wheels are in motion.

Check back in noon mountain time Thursday for the official press release of the current business venture. I have a feeling it could benefit a lot of you, because it has greatly benefited me and millions others across the world. It’s rather random that I stumbled upon it, but I’m happy I did.

One last bit of news for the day. I think I mentioned somewhere else that I would be traveling back to Texas for a 24 hour race. Well, the rumor is true. I really wanted to give Moab a shot this year since I am living only 4 hours away, in a very similar geographical and climatic region, but the registration fee was just too high. So I’m coming home for none other than the world famous 24 Hours of Rocky Hill to defend my title. It not only makes more financial sense, but I’ve some unfinished business to attend to in Austin.

I likely won’t be in the best shape I’ve been in for years past, but I shouldn’t be too far off. With the temps still reaching 100 right now in Texas, I don’t want to think what the weather will be like come Oct 15. The heat will likely be my biggest challenge to overcome. I remember last year it was pretty warm and I had some problems, and that was being used to it. I also haven’t had as much ride time. My volume right now is very high, but I got  a very late start this year. What I do have in my favor is EPO! I’ve been living at 6500′ and routinely training 7000′-10000′ so hopefully I’ll have some supercharged red blood cells. I also have more climbing strength. You can’t ride anywhere out here without hitting some kind of decent elevation change, so I’ve improved my climbing skills quite a bit.

One other thing I have to my advantage is a really cool junkyard gym. There are some old concrete footings for propane tanks in the backyard, and we have tons of old steel pipe, auto parts, crates, rocks, junk, you name it. I setup a little circuit doing some caveman workout moves that you can study for ideas.

 

 

So, things are finally starting to look up. Durango is my new home, and it is here that I shall rebuild the Caveman legacy and be at peace. Contrary to many a belief, life does not suck and then you die. It throws you challenges to make you stronger and appreciate your blessings. Live, endure, persist.

Last week was a shitty week. I’ve never used that term in my blog before, but there’s not really a better way to put it. I think I had a little racer’s hangover from Snowmass. didn’t even win the 12 hour, but, I was very happy with the effort. I was recovering quickly and ready to get back to training. I was feeling so good early in the week that I was able to throw and split a cord of firewood and then go for a barefoot trail run/hike with a friend Tuesday morning. Tuesday night things started going bad as the relentless daily rains rolled through, this time with the season’s first strong coldfront. It pitter-pattered on the RV roof all night long, and the mercury dropped.

Wednesday morning started cold, wet, gloomy, and only got worse. As I was taking a step up into the RV after fetching some water, my lower back suddenly had a spasm and I fell to the floor. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, so I didn’t panic. However, I knew this would put me out of commission for a few days and not be fun. I was cooking breakfast while it happened. I was cold and still trying to warm up. The roof on the RV was leaking. I had a physical therapy appointment for my shoulder rehab in 15 minutes that now looked like I couldn’t make because I could barely walk. It was not starting out to be a good day.

I called the PT office to tell them my situation, but they convinced me to suck it up and come in anyway, even if I came in late. Therapy helped a little, at least I could walk around ok, but I was still in a lot of pain and not very functional. I tried doing computer work at my desk, but it hurt to sit. The only thing that didn’t hurt was laying down and watching a little tv. Skipped dinner that night but somehow made it to the liquor store to buy some Paisano to help alleviate the pain. Sometimes I forget I’m living at elevation, and if you’ve never drank at elevation, well, it expedites the process. Before I knew it, I was drunk, and then depressed.

After another long cold, wet night, I woke up, with a slight hangover. I hate hangovers, and really didn’t intend to become that drunk, but, the alcohol did dull the pain and I got a solid night’s sleep. I felt only slightly better Thursday, so it was back to the bed and tube for most of the day. It felt like a wasted day. I had a little more vino that evening, careful not to have too much and slept ok.

Friday morning I began to notice some progress. I ran some errands around town and started to do some serious stretching. Saturday was a little better still and I was able to ride a bike into town. By this time, the coldfront had moved out, the rain had seceded, and bright beautiful sunshine was showing its happy face again.

Sunday morning I went to church, and thank goodness I did because I needed some serious uplifting and recharging. That afternoon, I helped my landlord smoke some meat and decided that even though my back still wasn’t 100%, I had to get out and ride. I have chosen the next big race and at this point it is less than a month away. After this back fiasco I have lost a very important week of training, and it is likely to slow me down this coming week, so I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I likely won’t be in the shape I need to be in to meet my goals, but I’ll have to make do. At least I’ve got some good elevation training to give me a boost.

And as always, I’ve got Rocky. It was a tough week, I’m facing very trying times, but I’m going to do the only thing a Caveman knows how to do, keep on keepin’ on.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8xHjC27YvM

At the core of man’s existence is a deep and inquisitive desire for adventure.

-Caveman

I kickstarted my fall race season this past weekend with a trip to Snowmass Village to compete in a 12 hour MTB race. I didn’t have much expectation in the way of competition, other than putting in an honest effort and not giving up. I quit the Warda 12 hour back in February before being seriously injured in a car accident in March that put a halt to just about any exercise for a good 3 months. I hopped in a 6 hr again at Warda in mid summer without much conditioning and had to pull out of that one an hour short due to heat issues. With all the crap I’ve gone through this year, I was due for a quality race with no regrets, and this is exactly what  I found at this. Not only this, but this trip was my first “vacation” in a long time and I thoroughly enjoyed the entire adventure.

Thursday

Left town around 1pm. I’ve never actually driven the million dollar highway from Silverton to Ouray, but got to this time. Absolutely spectacular. Pictures just cannot do it justice, but here are a few I snapped:

The road is twisty as all get out and steep. Not only this, there are no guardrails and if you go off the edge, you are dead. After cresting Red Mountain pass at 11,000 something feet, you drop down into Ouray. This is a really cool mountain

town full of history, charm, and recreation. I didn’t have time to stop since I was aiming to reach my campground by sunset. I made it through Ridgway, Montrose, Delta, Hotchkiss, and Paonia before reaching my destination, a dispersed camp site in the Gunninson National Forest right south of Paonia reservoir.

The campsite was perched along the Gunnison River. I gathered up some firewood just in time before daylight ran out. I enjoyed a nice campfire meal and reflected on the day’s travels before retiring to my sleeping bag as the cool mountain air and gentle flow of the river nursed me to peaceful sleep.

Friday

Morning broke and I cooked up an omellette and downed some fruit for breakfast before continuing my journey. I had to crest one last big pass (McClure) before heading into Carbondale. The descent from this pass was very pretty and dropped me into the Crystal River valley. I was driving in and out of clouds and along with the forest, mountains, and river, it felt very mystical, like something from Lord of the Rings.

I got to Snowmass Village around 10am. Supposedly this was when the course was open for pre-riding. Registration wasn’t until noon though. Even though I think the Village is incorporated, it is not laid out like a town at all, and wayfinding can be a little tricky for a newcomer. It took me a few hours of map hunting and studying to figure it all out. My plan was to pre-ride the course, but after seeing the grade of the ski slopes I figured an extra day of rest wouldn’t be a bad idea. I found my way to the registration area, got my packet, and began setting up base camp for Caveman Productions.

After lunch and setting up camp, I drove around the village to scope things out. Since this place is mostly known as a ski resort, it’s kinda dead in the summer, at least it was while I was there. Apparently, they are kinda snooty about camping out too. From what I understand, if you pitch a tent or park a RV anywhere in the village with the intent to stay overnight, you will get run of town. Coming from a mountain bike culture where camping at the venue is a given, I found this a little strange, and also inconvenient since I was on a budget and couldn’t fork out $100 a night for one of their fancy ski resort lodge rooms. However, after asking around, the general consensus was that I could probably stay in my tent I setup in the team area if I waited til dark and slipped in under the radar. So, I was tasked with passing the rest of the day until dark. Walking around the “mall” got old quickly. I picked a book and did some reading but got tired of that. I went back to my camp to clean my bikes and make sure everything was dialed in. This cool looking Wolverine guy on a steel singlespeed (Mike) had just finished his pre-ride and was setting up his camp close to mine. I asked if it was a singlespeed friendly course and all he said was “I brought the wrong gear!” The lowest thing he had was a 32-20, greatly overgeared for a course like this, but he had come from Atlanta and wasn’t used to the mountain terrain. I had a 21 cog on Proud Mary(setup single as a backup) and I offered to let him use it, which he greatly obliged! I still had a few hours to burn after this though.

After thinking a while what I could do, it dawned on me that Aspen was only about 15 minutes away, so I hopped back in the truck and headed to a real town. Aspen is a neat place. I could spend a few days there walking around and learning all the stores and restaurants and stuff to do. But sheesh, it’s even more expensive than Durango. It’s pretty, but just a little too high class for my Caveman taste. Before I knew it, it was getting close to 9pm and I was getting sleepy, so I found my way back to the Village and to my tent, where I was easily able to avoid the Snowmass gestapo. I didn’t sleep quite as well as the previous night since I was up higher, it got colder, there was some light and noise pollution infiltrating my humble abode, and it just didn’t quite feel like camping, but oh well, it was free and worked out.

Saturday-Showtime

Alarm wakes me at 5:30am. It’s cold out, and I’m still sleepy. Don’t feel like crawling out of the sleeping bag, but If I’m going to eat any breakfast at all, now is the time. I cook one egg and accompany with a banana and some grapes. After this, it’s busy time cutting up fruit, laying out energy bars, and just getting camp setup for the race. I have just enough time to get dressed and get my butt to the line for the 7am start.

My plan for this race is a page from the old school Caveman racing book. I’m not the top dog here, so I won’t be gunning it from the start like I do Texas. Instead, I will start slow, ramp it up, and finish strong attempting to overtake people who went out too hard later in the race.

The course is 7 miles long. It starts at about 8450′ and climbs straight up to 9950′ in about 2.75 miles. From the top you kinda ride some classic high forest singletrack with a little descending, and little more climbing, but mostly level for about a mile. There are some rock gardens, creek crossings, and twisty dirt trail before you begin the descent. At this point, you hang on for dear life. The initial descent is very rocky, rooty, and twisty. Letting it rip here is out of the question without a beefy all mountain or downhill bike. You eventually come to a service road where you can let ‘er rip for pretty much the rest of the way. I probably hit about 45mph before hopping back on some bermed switchbacks that were very bumpy but I was still able to ride very very fast. My YBS steel frame and new 2.2″ high volume Maxxis Ikon tires really helped smooth things out, although honestly, I was begging for a full suspension bike by the third lap.

I felt like I took lap one pretty easy, but it turned out to be my fastest lap of the day. By lap 2 it was warming up and I felt the legs come alive so I picked up the intensity and rode a good lap. Before lap 3, I took a break to shed layers and eat some fruit. As I started the long climb up, the legs all of sudden felt very heavy. This was both a good and bad thing. For ONCE while riding at elevation, my legs were slowing me down instead of my lungs! I was 2-3000 feet higher than Durango, but for whatever reason, breathing was not a problem this very day. Now my legs were! Any given race, it’s gotta be one of the other, and given the choice, I’d rather my legs be the limiting factor because I hate feeling like I have asthma. I can usually will my muscles to overcome pain, but I don’t have any control over my lung capacity.

So lap 3 hurt, but I got it done. I hung out with Valerie (Mike’s girlfriend and support crew) under their EZ up tent while I ate some fruit and tried to massage out my tight hamstrings. After about 10 minutes, things felt better and I was off for lap 4. The pain was starting to fade at this point as I settled into the sweet spot. It’s a euphoria that a lot of endurance athletes experience as cortisol, adrenal, and other fight or flight hormones build up in the body and for some odd reason you become buffered from pain. It is still there, it just doesn’t seem to bother you as much. Lap 4 was relatively calm, except that my upper body and kidneys began to hurt from the jarring of the technical descending.

Lap 5 was about the same and by the end of this lap I had crossed the 6 hour mark. If I kept the pace up, I’d probably be able to complete 9 laps before the 7pm cutoff. Starting lap 6, fatigue was really kicking in and the lungs were starting to catch up with the legs, but I wasn’t experiencing any debilitating injuries so I just focused on smooth climbing. As I began the descent, I must have hit something sharp because I heard the dreaded hissing of a small puncture in my rear tire. It sounded small, and as if the Stan’s sealant wouldn’t have a problem plugging it up. I stopped and spun the tire around and swooshed it a few times to get it to seal and it did. But it didn’t hold. I would ride a few hundred yards and it would open back up. I had to stop 4-5 more times on that lap and put some more air in, but it held long enough to get me back to base camp. Here, I popped the bead off and threw in some fresh sealant. I couldn’t get the tire to re-seat with my floor pump, but luckily, there was a neutral mechanic tent and they had an air compressor that easily got the job done.

With some new sealant and fresh confidence, I headed out for lap 7. The tire issue had set me back, but I still had time to make 9 laps if I booked it. Things were going fine until I began the descent and that familiar sound plagues me once more. I stop, take the wheel off, and swish it around until it plugs again. I end up having to do this twice more on this lap, but at least it’s working and getting me by. I could’ve thrown a tube in, but the descent was so rocky and rooty that I’d be risking a pinch flat. A three man team next to me running tubes actually ran out of tubes because of this problem.

I make it back to basecamp, and it’s apparent at this point that unless I create a miracle, will not be making 9 laps. So, for the 8th and final lap, I take a camera with me to snap some shots and just enjoy the scenery. Here is what some of the course looks like:

The starting climb up the service road. About 8% grade, maybe more in spots

Typical switchback climb across ski slope. This is what most of the climbing looked like.

About halfway up the mountain

final section of service road climb

Finally, the very top.

The way this race is formatted,you have to complete the final lap before the 12 hour mark. All other 12 hours I’ve done will allow you to start your last lap as long as you head out before 11:59:59. I finished my 8th lap at the 11:02 mark, and even though there was an hour left of racing, my lap times at this point were around 1:25, so there was just no way I could’ve finished a 9th lap before 7pm. Still, my effort was actually better than I had perceived it to be. It was good enough for 7th place out 18 solo men, and had I not had tire issues I would’ve had time for a 9th lap, which if completed, would have placed me in 4th place, at the worst, possibly even on the podium. So, I am very pleased with how things turned out and have no regrets about any decisions I made during the course of the race.

The earlier than expected finish actually gave me some time to pack up camp  and prepare for a hasty loading once cars were allowed to enter the team area. I was planning on driving back through Carbondale and down to a town called Redstone to find a place in the White River National Forest to camp that night, so this was time appreciated since I would be very tired and hungry.

I hung around a little at the awards ceremony and enjoyed a Fat Tire beer while conversing with my new friends from Atlanta. Mike had a tough time riding that singlespeed, and coming from sea level, but toughed it out for 5 laps for second place in the SS division. His girlfriend Valerie was very nice and actually volunteered to help me too since I was completely solo and helped Mike out by loaning the 21t cog. While I was prepared mentally and logistically to run this race completely solo, it was helpful having her there to lend a hand. Hopefully our paths will cross again some day.

I was on the road by 8:30 and tired as all get out, but the roads were empty and quiet. A full moon was just starting to rise across the horizon. I made it to the Redstone campground as planned, but what I didn’t plan on was $33/night fees. After studying the map they had at the info center, I noticed a forest road about a mile to the south. Usually, this means you can camp for free at sites that other people have sort of quasi-developed. The only way to know for sure is to have an official forest map with you indicating dispersed camping is allowed. I didn’t have one for this area, but figured I would find something to make do because I just didn’t have the energy to drive another hour to the next known camping area. The forest road was not marked off the highway, and I think I found it more by chance than skill, but I did find and after driving 3-4 miles looking for a evidence of a dispersed camping site,  I found something close enough perched between the road and a gently flowing creek. I was too tired to pitch a tent, so I pulled some stuff out of the truck, rolled my thermarest and sleeping bag out in the bed, and camp was made. I chowed down on jerky, hippy tortilla chips that came in the race packet, and leftover fruit before curling up into my bag. The moon was directly overhead now, and it was bright. I had to throw a shirt over my head to darken things up, and I slept, hard.

Sunday

I awoke to a cold, moist morning. Everything was covered in dew, and almost frosted, but not quite. I was able to get a better glimpse of my surroundings.

Pretty, I know, but I’m starving, so it’s time for a nice Caveman breakfast.

Delicious, and nutritious. Time to hit the road and wrap this awesome adventure up. Even though it’s the same route I took to get here, it has a completely different feel going the other way.

And different happenings…

Sheep are really stupid, but the guy in the Dodge eventually got them to move, and I slipped in behind him.

This time I did stop in Ouray to check things out and even imbibe a little:

I highly recommend the Box Canyon Brown if you ever find yourself in this quaint mountain town

I took my time coming through the mountain passes, stopping to enjoy the views and even do some mini hikes.

After Coal Bank Pass, it was a quick and easy cruise back into Durango, and my grand adventure was over. This was definitely one for the record books, and I can’t wait for the next one.

Shout Outs:

Many many thanks to Zoe Nance of Zoefitness who picked up the registration fee for this race. I’m flat broke right now and I wouldn’t have been able to make the trip were it not for her. Please check out her coaching services:

I’d also like to thank my mom and Nick Cirrincione who donated through the active giving page. This allowed me to use some of the money from Zoe  for travel and race expenses. Every little bit helped, and I am gracious for all the support from my family and friends. The $4 pint at the Brewery was my only non-essential expense of the entire trip, but sometimes you need a good beer after a hard race like this.

Stats:

The more Caveman I become, the less concerned I am with numbers. I no longer use a computer to track miles, time, avg. speed etc. I’ve never used a heart rate monitor or power meter or GPS, however, these are some #’s I happen to know anyways.

8 laps @7 miles each= 56 total miles. Men’s solo winner completed 10 laps

7th place of 18  Full results here.

last lap complete at 11:02 mark

1,600 elevation gain per lap=12,800 total feet of climbing

12,800 feet of mostly technical and rough descending

36 The miles per gallon I somehow got in my Mazda B2300 pickup. Unprecedented, especially considering the amount of mountain driving I did. Still baffled…

Notes:

The bike setup felt mostly good. I love the way my custom YBS frame fits and handles. The only thing that could be better is maybe something lighter, however, what goes up, must come down. As far as a hardtail goes, steel is probably the most forgiving and I was glad to have steel over carbon or aluminum on the descents. Aside from the frame, I would have also changed my gearing options. I currently have a 2×9 with 27/40 up front and 11-34 in the rear. Even the guys with 2×10 had 26-36 as a granny gear. The 27-34 got ‘er done, but I found myself grinding more than I wanted to. I’m not ready to make the switch to 10 speed, but will look into a 2×9 setup with 25/36 up front and 11-36 (they do make this in 9 speed now) in the rear.

Nutrition- For this race I wanted to go completely Paleo. I was about 90% successful. On the bike I drank only water, and only had one bottle per lap opposed to my usual 2. I drank a can of guava juice at a rest stop, so -2% for this. I mostly ate fruit-cantaloupe, pineapple, grapes, strawberry, raspberry, and blueberries- and Larabars. One lap I did break down and eat a PBJ (-6%) that Valerie made me. On another lap, I ate some corn chips and took a hammer gel that came in the race packet. Otherwise, my Caveman staples served me surprisingly well. I don’t feel like I bonked or cramped at all. My fatigue was just a result of the ridiculous amount of climbing/rough descending, high elevation, and lack of conditioning. Super pysched that the Paleo diet continues work so well, give me an edge over my competitors, and lead a healthier lifestyle.

Til the next adventure beckons,
Caveman