The Destination: Charlevoix, MI
The Plan: Arrive late Wednesday night; get a big ride in on Thursday, preview the Boyne Marathon course than go fishing on Friday, race the Boyne Marathon on Saturday and head back home.
In short, we achieved three of the above descriptions.
As I ventured up north late Wednesday night I found myself cool, calm and collected. I have pretty much done all I can for physical preparation for the 24hr Solo World Championships. I have stayed safe, healthy, and put my time in. And although I know there is much to be determined/established in terms of mental and equipment preparation, I have found myself in a good serene place. As I reflected on my surprisingly relaxed demeanor, I quickly realized this is simply the calm before the storm.
We arose on Thursday, geared up and set sail for an undetermined adventure on the North Country Trail. The route started in Charlevoix, headed to Boyne Falls, rode trail to Petoskey, and then linked up with a group ride out of Latitude 45 later that day. I had been coming off an already epic mileage early week and today was simply the last hoorah for absurd hours in the saddle.
As we hit the trailhead, my riding partner Alan commented, “Do you think we have enough water? You know, there is a good chance we are going to get lost.” I simply let this notion roll over my shoulders and thought; we’re fine…it’s not that far of a distance. Inevitably, 20 miles into the trail we both were almost out of fluids and starting to panic as we were quite far from any form of civilization. Thankfully, a few miles later we came to a dirt road crossing with three houses off the road. One of which happened to have a hose lying in front of it, which we used to refill our bottles.
So often, when I ride the trails I am riding lines that are so memorized and engrained in my head. I compare lap times and use that to gauge where my fitness is. Essentially, the trail is used for a training tool. However, there are very few moments anymore where I just roll out on an undetermined/uncharted adventure. The North Country Trail served as a great way to simply explore the landscape of Northern Michigan and gain new perspective as to just how beautiful our state is as well as how fundamentally fun simply riding a mountain bike can be when there is no objective other than to explore. It reminded me in a comforting way, that even without all this racing and training, I simply love to ride my bike and this alone is my main reason I continue to do it season after season.
To further continue the calm before the storm, Alan and I headed out to fish on Friday just after we previewed the Boyne Marathon Course. After conceding to the fatigue onset from nearly 400 miles in 4 days, I decided it would be counter productive to race on Saturday as it would only burn me out more. Fishing became the focus for the rest of the trip. It was at this time, I officially deemed myself in “taper mode”. Admitting to “taper” can in and of itself is a bit mentally tormenting. Essentially what it means is that you are accepting that you have done everything physically possible to prepare for the race and now you are succumbing to the waiting game. It is calming and nerve racking all at the same time.
There was no time to change out of our bibs...we were too excited!
So this brings us to the adventure of Saturday morning. Allow me to simply give you the cliff notes as it is a bit of a long story. We got out on the lake early morning, pulled in two 4lb lunkers, and headed into shore to start the trek back home. Just as we were about 3 miles from the dock the boat engine started sputtering and quickly cut out. We immediately realized that despite the ¼ tank reading on the fuel gauge, we were bone dry for gas. After some failed attempts at flagging someone to tow us in we realized we were going to need to tie the boat onto a buoy and swim it to shore. So we tied the boat up, swam to shore, hitchhiked to town, bought some gas, swam back to the boat, and finally set out on our venture home. All in all, the debacle set us back about 2.5 hours…not bad considering.
I returned home with a calm, collected aura.
However, now I’m starting to feel anxiety weighing on me. I always have to remind myself that the reason I love these races is the sheer epic nature of them. A 24hr race truly brings about a full spectrum of emotions during the preparation phase, the race itself, and after the race. This experience really reflects everyday life: a spectrum of emotions, choices, and circumstances…how you react to these variables truly shapes who you are as a person. A 24-hour race breaks you down to your simplest being. Throughout most of it, you are fighting your body’s natural biological make-up. Lets face it, we are not designed to do this sort of thing. It is the most potent litmus test of mental fortitude and toughness. In retrospect, it’s like living a lifetime in 24 hrs.
If I start to dwell on the suffering this upcoming event will ensue, it becomes overwhelming and impossible to deal with. If I dwell on the potential jubilation that results from it, I will start to not respect the enormity of it all and could potentially go into it destructively over confident. Keeping a clear head, and a sharp view of it all is quite challenging but necessary. Once again, I always have to remind myself that this is the dynamic that attracts me to this unique form of racing. None of this is for the weak minded.
I have a lot to race for this season. When I reflect back to last years race, that was simply all about me. This year is much different. If I ride bell to bell and put my entire soul into this race than I will know that I have fulfilled what I came to do regardless of the result.
Stay tuned…
