Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Dreams to Reality: The 24 Hours of Albion Hills Race Report

“There is something that happens in a 24 hour solo race. At one point you come face to face with your very own soul. There is no hiding in a 24 hour solo race”

-Chris Etough

I apologize for the length of this entry, but lets be honest…it was a long race! For reasons I’m not even quite clear of anymore I choose to focus my entire 2008 season on finishing on the podium at my virgin attempt at a 24 hour solo race. I did have other goals and objectives in addition, but everything was designed to lead to this event.

The preparation in and of itself was a journey as well. Everything did not go as planned and there were several speed bumps of adversity in the road. Crashing hard at Superweek did not only weaken my body but also left some serious damage on my nerves. In addition, I was sick more this summer than I have ever been. I attribute this mostly to overtraining. My immune system was constantly working on overdrive and finally began to fail shortly before this race. One of the hardest obstacles for me to overcome was conceding to swallow the fact that I needed to get off the bike, rest, and not race if I wanted my dream to be a reality.

An interesting thing that occurred throughout this entire endeavor is that I began to see a clear vision of the people in my life who were true supporters of what I was trying to do and accomplish and those who were the skeptics and eager to watch me crash and burn. I am grateful for both ends of the spectrum too because you all provided fuel for me in your own way.

In my final weeks preparation for the event I found myself calm, relaxed and extremely eager to get everything underway. This was quite the contrary to my state of well-being just three weeks prior.

Friday morning our journey began with some breakfast at Toast in Ferndale. I was joined by Angela, Ryan, the Dolpinator, Alan, Scott, Aimee, DK, and the Godfather himself; the Dybo. The extra support to see me off was a great feeling.

After an indulgence of epic proportion and some of the slowest service ever recorded we were on our way to the land of our neighbors to the north; Albion Hills, ON.

My support crew consisted of Alan Smith, Scott Kroske, and Angela. I was confident I was in good hands and with people that were truly committed to supporting me. However, the synergy and cohesiveness that this group produced far exceeded any expectations I ever held!

When we arrived at the course, we set up our pit like a seasoned Formula One pit crew. In less than an hour we had created an epicenter of endurance mountain biking support.


Shortly after, we kitted up and ventured out for a pre-race lap and course assessment/inspection. I had done my homework for this race quite thoroughly. I knew that every winner in the past had averaged 1:06 laps. My goal was to ride sub 0:55 laps until nightfall, buy some time, and then settle into a consistent rhythm while taking breaks as necessary. While I rolled my pre-race lap I tried to visualize each section of the trail and how I would use it during the race (i.e. where to eat/drink, where to stretch, areas that catered to my strengths, etc.). I rode at a pace that would feel sustainable for some time. My lap ended up coming in at a hair under 0:51, which left me feeling confident.


From there we hopped in the car to gorge ourselves on high fats and carbs in order to obtain the fuel necessary for the epic challenge that lay before us. Dinner was followed by a brief beer stop (for the crew) and a direct b-line to our hotel for a good nights sleep.

Saturday morning I awoke at 4am as excited as a child on Christmas morning to run downstairs and scope out his presents. However, I forced myself to try and sleep longer but simply drifted in and out of consciences for the next three hours dreaming about the race. When the troops and myself finally awoke and were ready to go we hit the local family diner hard and all through down on some hungry man’s breakfast.

We arrived at the race at 9:45, just over 2 hours before start. In preparation for the race I had literally goggled all of the solo men category start names and knew Erick Auger (Quebec’s 24hr Enduro Superstar) was the man to beat. Ironically, his pits were set up within arms reach of ours. I must admit, the sight of his custom bikes adorned with his name, full spectrum of sponsors, and appearance of seasoned 24hr experience was quite intimidating at first. While I was running around not thinking straight and scrambling to prep myself as well as my two bikes, Erick looked calm and collected and was running through a race routine that seemed well-rehearsed and calculated.

Needless to say, I was able to get myself together to approach the start line by 11:00. By 11:20, Erick was already lining up at the line. This action communicated to me that he meant business and intended to win the race. Knowing that positioning on a mass start approaching 1000 starters could literally translate to huge chunks of time either lost or gained, I decided to line up right next to him. We sat on the ground and chatted while the race was in the final moments of getting underway. He knew that this was my virgin attempt and was quite cordial and helpful in sharing tidbits of survival strategy with me.

In the final minute, as I sat there on the line and listened to the crowd of hundreds countdown, time started to move in slow motion. In my head I thought about everything I had done to bring me to this very moment. I took in one last deep breathe and heard the gun, months of anticipation were now over.

I was able to obtain the exact positioning I wanted in the hole shot; not too close to the leaders but not stuck behind any of the schleps. I quickly realized that I had managed to get a few spots on Erick right off the bat. By the middle of the first lap I had put a minute or so on him but he was still in sight in the sections that the trail switches back on itself. By the end of the lap he had caught up to me and sat on my wheel for the remainder of the lap.

Coming through the timing tent in unison and beginning our second lap I made him take the lead. I sat on his wheel for the majority of the lap and studied his riding style, paying close attention to his strengths and weaknesses. He seemed to be a little more proficient than me on the downhills but was climbing slower than me and was not taking as efficient of lines in the tight sections.

Without a whole lot of calculation or foresight, my adrenaline took over and I found myself attacking him on a climb about midway through the lap. When I looked by I saw that I had instantly put time on him, so I decided to try and extend my gap and pushed it a little harder.

For the next several laps I continued to put 3-5 minutes on him and managed to get the lead up to 35 minutes or so by nightfall. Meanwhile, we had both managed to lap everyone else in the field at least once.

The mandatory time set forth to put your lights on was 6:30. As I rolled through the pits, I stopped as the whirlwind of efficiency of Alan, Ang, and Scott simultaneously shoveled food in my mouth, mounted my lights, and cleaned the dirt of my face, legs and arms. When I rolled off I thought that performance would of made Mario Andretti zealous.

My motto for the evening was “just make it through the night”. A lot of inner demons surface during your night laps. I was keeping myself together mentally but I was having a hard time dismissing the thoughts of worst case scenarios. My pit was radioing me the splits and it seemed that Erick and I had quite a volleying of time scrounging going on.

At 2:00 am I hit my first wall. My body and mind told me its time to pack it in and shut down. My lap time drastically fell by 10 minutes or so and I struggled to keep the cranks turning. I had a bit of a moment with God at this time which helped me to find new strength and persistence I didn’t know I had. I also actually had a bit of an out of body experience where I had a conversation with myself encouraging and reassuring myself that I was in the best place position and simply needed to do whatever it took to sustain it.

I had not taken a break yet or even gotten off the bike for longer than 30 seconds. I decided to announce to the pits to get some soup and a chair ready. In their copy of my typed nutrition plan it read: I will consider taking a 15min. soup break during the night if necessary, encourage me to change my kit during this time. As I approached the pit, the soup, new kit, and chair were waiting for me. I sat and ate my soup and kept asking the crew if this was ok. I refused to change my clothes as I thought it would take too much time. I looked at the crew and commented, “I know I can do this, but I cannot do without you guys, I need you”.


The next lap I started to turn it around and gain some time back on him but still wanted to take breaks as I came through the pits. Prior to my arrival in the pits the next lap, Kroske had set the chair back out for me upon which Alan took and threw it in the woods commenting, “He can sit when he’s dead, if he loves to ride his bike so much, let him ride his bike”. The absence of the chair that lap nearly killed me but that is why I brought Alan, he knows when its time to be a hard ass.


The nighttime continued to linger and not only was my physical stamina beginning to fade, but my mental stamina was as well. Not much was going through my head but the anticipation of the sun arising and how I was going to react to that. I was hoping the increased visibility would allow me to see my lines better and speed up my lap times.

As the sun arose, my triceps were on fire from the intense pounding they had been taking. The course seemed to get in worse shape as the race went on. Roots that were sticking 2 inches out of the ground yesterday were now 6 inches out of the ground. Hills that were smooth and fast rolling had become sandy and wishy-washy. But alas the sun was up and I had still managed to keep and lead in the high 30s. However, only two laps into the morning sun, Alan had to announce to me to lay off my brakes and start riding as efficiently as possible because the juggernaut force of the French-Canadian had gained back 19 minutes on me in a matter of two laps.

I was in a world of hurt and was starting to crumble mentally. Thoughts and memories of failed breakaways and the past races that I “almost” won started conjuring up and infiltrating my psyche. I thought to myself, this guy is seasoned, he knows what he is doing, he’s been eating and resting all night and he’s going to ramp it up now that the sun is up. For the remainder of the lap I kept looking back waiting for the red and white jersey of Erick to roll up on me and roll by like I had flat tires. My early race confidence was transforming into self-doubt and I was succumbing to my insecurities. I started considering the possibility of taking second and was negotiating with myself that at least that was still within my goal. At that point, knowing I was over a lap up on third place, I almost just wanted Erick to catch me so this pain could subside. Earlier that lap I even commented to Alan, “I don’t care if he catches me, at least we can take second”. He replied, “F That! We didn’t drive all this way to take second!”

As quick as my mentality crumbled, it was built back up when I rolled through the timing tent and Alan announced that I took seven minutes back from him that lap. I was also informed of some encouraging thoughts sent my way from some friends back home. Kroske had been sending updates out to a huge text list. I started to not only ride for myself, but for everyone who had been supporting me. My mantra than switched to, “Not without a fight, You can rest when you’re on the podium…rest when you’re on the podium…one foot in front of the other…rest when you’re on the podium…this is what everything has lead to…this is what you set out to do…rest when you’re on the podium”. Meanwhile, several other participants in the race had taken note of the battle that had been developing the whole race. Fresh riders on relay teams would ride up to me and provide me with encouraging words and say things like, “It’s almost over, you’ve got it, your lead is insurmountable.”

Luckily, this season and this season only I had finally learned to suffer. However, the suffering I had practiced prior to this was a mere fraction of what I was going through at this point. I could here Ray Dybo in my ear saying, “you need to suffer…dig…dig…suffer”.

A week prior to my departure I had went over Ray’s house to pick up some borrowed equipment for the race. During this visit Ray had delivered a most convincing, slightly vodka induced, pep talk about how him and I share the ability to persevere. He said you have learned to get yourself in the shape you need to be in, you have learned how to race, and you have the intense ability to persevere and that is why you ARE going to win this race. I left that night believing him and it was exactly what I had to hear at the moment after being barraged earlier that week with skeptic’s comments that I had not prepared enough or correctly for this.

At 9:00am Alan announced that if I finish the lap I was on and two more than mathematically we have the race in the bag granted I maintain my time gap, which had been steadily staying the same for about 2 hours now. Although the thought of two more laps was excruciating, the news was a light at the end of the tunnel and hope. I spent the rest of that lap getting myself mentally prepped for two more laps.

At around 9:45am I had rolled through the timing tent and began what I thought would be my second from last lap. However, as I rolled through the pits that lap Alan looked me straight in the eye and told me, “We need to talk, but we can’t do it here, we’ll talk at the start/finish line”. I knew what he was going to tell me…he was going to mutter the most horrifying words, “you’re going to need to go out on another lap…a 23rd lap”. The thought made a huge lump grow in my throat and while I started to take my mind of the trail I found myself taking a handlebar to the gut and toppling over my bike. Initially I thought I had broken a rib, but luckily it was a mere inch below my rib cage. However, it didn’t stop my insides from feeling like they were on fire and bleeding profusely.

Sure enough, at the start/finish line I am greeted with, “The time gap is really close, he’s going to have to work hard to make the time cut off, I don’t think he can close the time gap, but he will go out on another lap if he can so you are going to have to as well for insurance purposes”, he followed by, “we will radio to you as soon as we know if me makes the cut and you can get off the course…but the good news is, if you finish this lap than you will have set the course record for this race for the most laps completed ever by a solo racer”. At the time, a record meant nothing to me; I looked Kroske straight in the eye and said, “Get me the hell off this course as soon as possible…I mean it”.

Knowing I had a lot of time in the bank and being in a suffering state I never knew was possible, I rolled that final lap slowly and carefully. About half way into the course is a brutal switch back climb that seems to go on forever and seemed to grow exponentially as the race went on. As I approached the base of it, although I had ridden it the entire race, I knew I was going to need to hike the bike up it this time if I was going to survive this lap. I was about half way up it, I had been racing for over 24 hours now, screams of encouragement were in my ears from other riders and I looked back and saw the dreaded red and white jersey of Erick starting the climb and looking as strong, composed, and fresh as at the beginning of the race. My heart plummeted, my adrenaline coursed through my body faster than I had ever felt before, and my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest onto the dirt. I jumped on my bike, threw it in the big ring and hammered harder than I had all race. As I got to the top of the climb I looked back and had lost sight of him. For the next 15 minutes or so I ramped my speed up more than I had the whole day, even hitting 30mph+ on the straightaway. I couldn’t feel my body or hear myself breathing, I could only hear my mind racing with the thought of getting nipped at the line after 24 hours + of leading the race.

Finally I had come to the pits were I shot by the crew screaming, “He’s right on my tail, He’s right on my tail, He’s right behind me!”. I looked at them is dismay to find that they were not at all panicked like I was and had a beer for me and were announcing that I had won the race. Erick had pulled in the timing tent at 12:01 and had not made the cut. It then became apparent to me that I had completely hallucinated the entire chase! Earlier in the race I had saw that same real image and I think my mind replayed it, your mind will do crazy things under intense fatigue! The race was over, I could stop riding…but I didn’t. I decided to go for the course record and finish the lap. I had about a half an hour left to finish a section that had been taking me 17 minutes earlier in the race to finish.

The victory had not set in yet. I had two more monster climbs to make it over and that’s all I could think about. 18 minutes later I rolled through the last section of course and towards the start finish line. I had visualized myself throwing my hands up for the victory but only had the strength and stamina left to pump one fist in the air. I had been in the saddle for 24 hours and 48 minutes for a total of 230 miles and over 20,000 feet of climbing. As I checked my timing chip one last time I threw my bike down ran towards Angela and embraced her. We kissed and I fell to the ground crying hysterically. She put her arms around me and was crying too. I was speechless I had nothing to say. I sat on the ground and cried for about 5 minutes before I could get up.

The feeling was indescribable and not even real yet. Ang looked at me crying and said, “You put your heart and soul into that baby…I’m so proud of you”.

After savoring the victory for a while I got up and rolled back to the pits by myself and continued to cry more. When I got back, Erick’s wife gave me a hug and congratulated me and I proceeded to find Erick and pay my respects to him for such a great race.

Throughout the race I had gained some supporters but also some enemies. It seems that some of the French Canadians weren’t particularly thrilled that a no-name dark hoarse had snatched up the victory. While I got cleaned up for the podium I knew what I had to do. When the announcer called my name out and I approached the stage, my medal was slipped over my head and I unzipped my Wolverine/American Cycle and Fitness jersey to reveal my Made in Detroit logo T-Shirt. I could her crickets in the crowd at that point, angry Canadians thrust looks of disgust upon me and I swear I even saw a mom cover her child’s eyes!

So what did I learn from this experience about life and myself in general? Etough was right; you do come face to face with your soul. The race breaks you down to your simplest being and as a result, you are able to achieve some incredibly acute clarity about all facets of life. I have this overwhelming feeling of contentment about everything, my family, my friends, Angela, my job, my house, my life, everything. I truly feel blessed. I had never planned for anything more in my life or choose to put my everything into one event than I had for this. I found strength and persistence I never knew I had.

When I sit and think about what my support crew did for me I still get emotionally overwhelmed. Without Ang, Scott, or Alan I could of never achieved any of this. Each one of them was as selfless as can be and worked so hard for over 24 hours and did not sleep as well. I am so happy to have experienced such a life defining moment with these people and feel that a very strong bond was created through it all. I am eternally thankful for everything they did.

So what now? I’m the kind of person who lives for whatever is coming up next. I didn’t really plan for much past this event. Through this event, I qualified for World’s next year…so perhaps that?

However, for the time being I am going to savor this feeling and relish in my contentment with all the people and things I am surrounded by.

16 comments:

sworksredace said...

Wow.....What else can I say..Great Job! The Finkelstein Rules!

SMH said...

Great work!

Cruise said...

Congrats man! you earned this one big time!

You gotta relay with me at the 24hr Addison race next year!

Brent said...

Nice work Tim. Way to show those guys to the north how it's done. That's what I call dedicaton.

Anonymous said...

"Well great job God D#@%!" All of us at the Atlanta Crash Pad, job well done!

TheBrothersChase said...

nice job tim, way to suffer!!!! The summer of tim will be relayed to M-town crash pad!! nice job again!!

Shawn said...

astounding tim! Take pride in your accomplishment!

Unknown said...

amazing story, thanks..

Kroske said...

I'm not sure the photos convey that there were 1,500 racers... yes, one thousand-five hundred people in all categories including teams.

When Finkel would get nervous about the magnitude of our surroundings, Alan Smith would say, "Hey. Calm down. You're basically riding your bike in a circle a bunch of times. It's no big deal."

That's great stuff, at the right moment.

Kroske

Robert said...

Nice Tim.

Welcome to the 24 hour club!!! :-)

Time to change this blogs header image don't you think? Road is so last week.

Todd Scott said...

Awesome job, Tim!

sworksredace said...

I wonder if the K-Man working the pits had anything to do with the Canadians hating on Detroiters...

sworksredace said...

I'm sure there were some unsavory "America Junior" references dropped!

the MICHIGANSCENE said...

nice ride, when we get a few days after the murdercity weekend we'll read the report!

Jamie Smith said...

And so the next time you have doubts about your own ability...

Well done, Tim.

Anonymous said...

In Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl there are three ways to find meaning in life:

1) Do a deed.

2) Experience a value (love, behold beauty, etc.).

3) Through Suffering.

You accomplished all three. You impress me.

-Coyle