This post was originally published to a now-archived version of this blog.
Yesterday, I was going through some old emails, and came across my race report from my first real introduction to endurance racing: The TBF 50, a 50 mile mountain bike race in Granite Bay that I completed when I was 16. In terms of execution, the race was definitively the worst I’ve ever done. And yet, it was easily one of the best days of my life, and ever since that day I was absolutely obsessed with ultra-endurance sports.
On October 24th, I’ll be racing the NorCal Backyard Ultra (Mini) — a 12 hour Last Man Standing — which will take place on the exact same trails in Granite Bay. It seems fitting that my debut return to endurance racing and ultrarunning is happening at the same place, on nearly the same day.
In anticipation of that return, I thought I would post the race report here, unedited, as it first appeared in the email list servs many years ago, typos and all.
I hope you enjoy J.
October 20, 2013
The story of the TBF 50 begins on a cold morning sometime mid June, when I first committed to racing the TBF 50. I had a simple, yet seemingly effective way to train; each month, I would do a race with 10 miles more than the previous month’s, working my way up to 50 Miles. I started with Skyline XC Mountain bike race late July, a 17 mile mountain bike race over some steep and rocky terrain. Next month, I raced the Annadel XC Mountain Bike Race, which was 30 miles, very rocky, and pretty steep as well. Then I lucked out and got to race back-to-back for a few weekends. After Annadel came the M5 Mountain Bike Madness. This was a four day-three night mountain bike event in the Mendocino Woodlands, with excellent food and a Race at the end. This race tested me more than any other race yet. The M5 had 5,200 ft of total climbing, and it took me almost four hours to complete, and for the first time I truly “bonked” and totally ran out of energy on the last lap, ill admit, it was a pretty scary feeling. The week after the M5, I had another race, this time in Caspar, a little town near Mendocino. This race topped off at 33 miles, and a little less climbing about 5,000 ft of climbing. I finished the Caspar under four hours, and felt very confident about my training so far, having conquered so many obstacles, and finishing races I previously wouldn’t have believed I could do.
I took a two week break from racing, and then had the Folsom Cyclebration Mtb Race. I finished a little slower than I would have hoped, and was extremely exhausted at the end. My next month of training consisted of cyclocross; The Sac CX #1, the Bay Area Super Prestige #1, and then the Sac CX #2. My score slowly improved with each CX race, and I felt better about the coming 50miler.
Saturday, October 19th, woke up early to take the PSAT, and when finished, headed out to lake Solano to help at a Foxy’s aid-station for the remainder of the day. All day Saturday I had allergy issues and started freaking out about the 50miler, worrying my allergies wouldn’t go away in time. I also got very few hours sleep that night and was pretty tired. Saturday night, I slept a little better though.
I woke up Sunday morning at 5:30, and my mom and I were backing out of the driveway by 6:00. We stopped for breakfast at star bucks, but I wasn’t feeling too hungry. We arrived at Granite Bay an hour later, unloaded my bike, and got me checked in. I could feel the mixture of pressure and excitement for the race slowly building up, giving me the pre-race butterflies.
All the solo riders started at 9:00 together. There was an enormous amount of dust in the air, and it limited my visibility to the rider ahead of me. My first lap went great. I zoomed around the course, finishing my first lap in 59 minutes. Halfway into the second lap though, I started to slow down.
From the very first lap of the race, I had a knot in my back whenever I bent over, and thus, my back was aching the whole ride because of my ride position. At first, I thought it would go away pretty fast, but it became apparent that that wasn’t going to happen. Halfway through the second lap the pain was pretty intense, and by the third lap, it was almost excrutiating. I slowed down considerably as time went on, tiring out quickly. About two thirds into each lap, there is a very steep climb up to a water tower. I barely made it to the top during the second lap. I started to feel pain in my legs. I begun to get tired. When I started the third lap, I was barely hanging on. I felt like I was losing energy, despite the Clif Shots I was taking each lap. My arms begun to get tired of holding me up, and my back was pushing me close to tears. I pedaled on.
Somehow, I pulled it together for a few minutes, and went slightly faster as I neared the end of the third lap, but another climb towards the end of the lap slowed me down considerably. When I started the fourth lap, I stopped by my mother and uncle as they handed me a fresh water bottle. I unclipped, and got off the bike, and my mom tried to get me to stretch and see if I could get rid of my back pain, or if I could gain back a little energy. I did, but it was short lived. As soon as I was out of sight of the spectators and the finish, I slowed down. After I mile, I stopped again. I managed to get back going, but then stopped again two miles later. I sat for a while, trying to get myself to go, but I didn’t move for five minutes. I begrudgingly started again, but after another mile, I just couldn’t go any further. I sat down in a sandy patch of dirt and lay back for a while, letting the sun beat down on my face. My back pain didn’t go away. I watched rider after rider pass me by, but couldn’t find the strength to go on. I begun to consider giving up.
The thought of giving up truly scared me, because I had been training for this race for a while, and it was so important to me I never dared think I would ever consider giving up. I always finished a race, no matter what it took, and thus was truly scared as I considered that I couldn’t finish. I argued back and forth in my head; Should I go on? Should I give up right now? Should I wait until I see a race official who can drive me back? Then came Trevor. He was another racer, who, like me, was ready to give up. He was pushing his bike around the corner, and when he saw me asked if I was okay. I told him yes, I was just tired. He said he knew how I felt, and sat down too. It turns out, he had only ever ridden 20 miles in his life, and was having just as much, if not more, trouble than I was. We got up eventually, and stuck together the rest of the race, relying on each other to help each other finish. We were both beyond tired. We averaged about 4 miles per hour, stopping ever mile or so sit down and rest up. When we got the big climb towards the second half of the lap, we both thought we would die. Through sheer effort, and my mom running up the hill cheering us on, we made it to the top. When we both were at the summit, I asked “wanna rest a sec, or go on?” to which he replied “lets get this sh*t over with.” Some miracle must have happened if he and I had the energy to swear. In a wave of pain and fatigue, we descended the other side, and pushed our selves too, and past any physical limit. As we made the turnaround, and new that we had less than two miles to go, we picked up speed. As the final section of single track loomed ahead of us, we both got out of the saddle, pedaling like our lives depended on it. Somehow, we both finished, riding 50 miles in 5:09:00. We shook hands past the finish line, and went to go get our post-race meals.
The TBF 50Miler was by far the toughest challenge I have ever faced in my life. I pushed myself beyond 100 percent, and yet underwent the realization that I wasn’t prepared for the race that lay ahead of me. I came extremely close to giving up, and likely would have, if somewhere deep down in side of me I didn’t find the strength to go on. I didn’t meet my time goal, didn’t finish very high, and stopped more times than I would have liked, but I did finish, and that matters more to me than anything else. I know I have allot of room to get better, but I also know my strengths, and my limits, and that is a luxury I am glad to have. Thus officially ends my 2013 season of mountain biking, and I can relax J.
Leave a Reply