Racing is life

Today I give you my race report.  As you may know I raced the SanFelipe 250 – a 285 mile race in Baja.  The terrain there is especially difficult.  Besides 25,000 whoope (big bumps) there were several tight canyon washes with very intimidating boulder gardens and rock falls to ride through somehow.

Racing is like life.  Especially long-distance racing.

There is preparation.  I worked out a lot – even when I didn’t want to.  Once I started though, I got into it each time.  

There is teamwork – I have a great team to build (rebuild) the bike and to chase me throughout the race.

There is inspiration and motivation – you have to make decisions to get involved and take action.

Perseverance – you have to keep going even when the feeling you had to do a thing has long since left you.

There is acting in the face of fear – giant rocks to ride over – got to gas it and beat them.

There is competition – it brings out the best in you to try to beat them.

There are setbacks – the second day of prerunning things were going good and I made a mistake when dropping off a 4-foot step.  I landed on an off-camber spot with loose rocks and my front wheel washed out.  I crashed and hit the back of my right hand on a rock.  It broke an artery in my hand below the skin and within a minute there was a big ball of blood under my skin.  I was 35 miles from the truck.  I got lightheaded.  I didn’t know how much blood would accumulate under my skin or how dangerous it was.  I had to ride out.  

There is danger – when 1000 horsepower trophy trucks pass you at 3x your speed, it’s scary.  You have to get off the course fast.  The first few usually have helicopters that buzz you at very low altitudes to tell you the fury that is coming within seconds.

I started at 6:30 am, determined to run my own race and keep my heart rate in the optimal zone – not too high.

My hands ached for the first 80 miles, especially the injured one.  After that they settled in.  I was in second place out of three teams.  The leader had four fast guys.  When you have a team you can sprint and give it your all for 70 miles and give the bike to the next guy.  I was solo racing against two teams.

Things went pretty well for the next 130 miles.  I knew the rocks in Hatamote Wash were coming at mile 210.  Oh boy…  When I got there I did not delay.  I hit a steep rocky hillclimb that terminated into boulders at the top.  Drop back down into 100 feet of deep sand, then pick a line through boulders the size of microwave ovens.  I drop the bike once.  Gas is leaking out.  Pick it up quick – don’t want to run out of gas.  Make it through those boulders.  100 more feet of deep loose sand.  Then giant ledges on the left and giant boulders on the right.  I choose the ledges.  Good choice.  Navigate over and back down to the sand and rock gardens – made it!

Fifteen miles from the finish I see one of my chase trucks.  They had to drive in 30 minutes over deep sand whoops to get there to see me.  I stop for 2 seconds and say “I’m good!” and I go on.  One minute later I hear a bike coming alongside me.  I look – it’s 513x – my competition!  Ut oh!

At first, I wonder if I have enough left to put up a fight – and what he’s got for me.  I have to try.  We were in sand whoops that flowed fairly well.  I kick it up two notches and pass him.  I couldn’t look back – I needed all my concentration on the terrain.  I pretended he was right on my butt.  I rode faster and better than in the whole race.  I had trained well and had something for him at the end.  I had the skills to handle the bike at speed in deep whoops and drop offs.  

Two miles to go.  A vast silt fields opens before me.  I skirt the edges – still deep, downshifting and getting all the horsepower I could.  The deep silt turned to deep silt whoops.  One mile to go.  Sand dunes now.  The locals built a jump for show.  I hit it to celebrate.  Pavement.  Two blocks.  Police making sure no traffic is on the racecourse.  Fans line the course.  Last turn onto the Malecon – the beachfront boulevard where it starts and ends.  No 513x.  I did it.  I beat a team by myself.  

I roll across the finish line with my hands in the air.  Relief.  Joy.  Proud of what I had done.  Happy for what it did to me.

My wife and friends are there. 

Big deep smiles all around.  

Life.