Crazy is Contagious

Allow me to introduce my wife, Laurie. When I asked her to marry me 15 years ago, first I bought her a ring. Then I bought her a bike, and we had a lot of fun with time trials and cross country mountain bike races around Michigan. When kids made an entrance, she backed off mountain bike racing in favor of triathlon - for some reason, we thought doing separate events would be it easier for childcare purposes. (We were sort of right, but having two endurance athletes in the family means lots of tag-team parenting.) Anyway, after five years of racing sprint and Olympic distance triathlon, she rediscovered mountain biking and took on a pretty big challenge. I hope you enjoy her guest blog (and my photo captions)!

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Being married to Mitch DeYoung means you have to learn to embrace a little bit of crazy. And eventually, that crazy starts to seem normal, and you start to believe that maybe it’s not all that crazy after all. Given Mitch’s penchant for 100+ mile mountain bike races, I suppose it was only a matter of time until some of that crazy rubbed off on me.

Like Mitch said, I’ve been a triathlete for five years. I still loved the occasional mountain bike race or recreational ride, but I’d found such a wonderful community on the local triathlon scene that it never occurred to me to revisit my roots. Last season, though, I started to really crave the adrenaline rush of singletrack. I started following 906 Adventures’ push for more women at challenging events like Marji Gesick and Crusher, but since I’m on SAG duty for both those races, participating at any distance wasn’t really an option. So I asked crazy Mitch what other kind of crazy thing I could do, and he presented me with a challenge: Hanson Hills 50.

Fifty miles on a mountain bike would be twice the distance I’ve ever raced. I hardly even ride my road bike 50 miles, since Olympic distance triathlons are about 26 miles long. But I had a strong fitness base from my Saturday training with Court One Triathlon Club and had been following a TrainerRoad program for my weekday training. I reached out to some of the most badass women in the local mountain biking scene and asked if they wanted to join me at HH50. We hit the trails as soon as the weather permitted, and I put the rest of my triathlon disciplines on hold while I built up my strength and speed on the bike.

Mitch is a super supportive partner. He let me neglect a lot of things in the month leading up to HH50 to make sure I would have a successful race. He upgraded my new Trek Superfly to tubeless, developed a race nutrition plan for me (all the Hammer Nutrition!) and even found me a motel room when the weather forecast dampened my plans to camp. When I left my little family to amble Up North the day before the race, I felt calm and prepared to put in a strong effort.

I knew my mental game could make or break the race. So on Friday, I followed a leisurely pre-race plan. I took my time on the three-hour drive, stopping for treats at some of my favorite local shops (Oh Mi Organics and Phillips Gatehouse Market) then dropping in on one of my best friends and racing buddies. Beth and I got into multi-sport racing together back in 2013 and she’s a huge inspiration!

Laurie and her #badfriend Beth

In Grayling, I checked into my motel room and headed to Hanson Hills for an easy pre-ride. My legs felt great and my mind was clear. I enjoyed some BBQ, did some yoga and foam rolling, prepped the Hammer Gel, Heed, Sustained Energy and Endurolytes that would fuel me for the race, drank some tea and hit the sack.

I’m used to really early mornings for triathlon, but HH50 didn’t start until 10 am. I rolled into the race site at 8:45 and realized that, without a transition area to set up, one does not need more than an hour to prepare! I had some healthy pre-race jitters, but kept my focus on making sure all the little things were set. Lap 1 nutrition, check. Refueling station for Lap 2, check. Seat Saver applied, check. Pee one more time, check. Pre-race pic with my friend/training partner/speedy chick Teresa, check.

Laurie and Teresa, I think they are having a fist fight

The first few miles were a pavement roll-out, followed by some grassy sections at the bottom of the ski hill. The field quickly pulled away from me and a handful of other racers at the back of the pack, but I didn’t let it bother me. I was there to do my race: to complete the course feeling like I put in my best effort. I had few expectations for my time, but wanted to come in under six hours. When I entered the first section of singletrack, a fatbiker was behind me. I wondered why he hadn’t passed me on the two-track, but whatever. I overshot a turn a couple miles later and he went ahead, pulling away over the next few miles. That left me on my own to enjoy the climbs, descents and flowy sections of singletrack at my own pace, without feeling like I was slowing anybody down.

Then it was time for the two-track part of the lap, which was not my favorite. Luckily, rain the night before had packed the sandy Jeep trails down and it wasn’t too bad. I rode through the aid station halfway into the lap, and shortly entered more singletrack. Surprisingly, I spied another racer up ahead and passed him right before a fun, rollercoaster-ish section of trail. A few miles later, I caught a glimpse of my fatbike friend from earlier! I slowly gained on him, passing him when he stopped to take in some nutrition at the top of a hill. That was a huge mental boost!

The end of the lap is a blast, because you grind up a long hill, then come screaming down the side of the ski hill. After winding around that grassy section again, you complete the first lap. I had a refueling station set up under the new pavilion, where I swapped out my CamelBak and nutrition bottle, changed my gloves, popped a few Motrin, sucked down some Hammer Gel and chomped a couple of Pringles. In less than five minutes, I was off again to tackle the second lap. I felt pretty good - just a little sore across my back and shoulders, with the start of a headache (hence the Motrin). My legs were tired but still feeling pretty good, and I was well under my three-hour Lap 1 goal.

Five or six more miles, though, and the fatigue started to set in. My legs protested every pedal stroke and my brain started to get a bit fuzzy. I tried to keep up with my nutrition, but my stomach got a little upset and didn’t want anything but water. I was actually happy to hit that dreaded two-track because the effort of bike handling was getting tough. The miles crawled by. I hit the aid station and stopped to down some Endurolytes, since the sun had come out and I knew I wasn’t drinking as much water as I should. According to my GPS, I had 17 miles to go at that point. But the nice volunteers let me know it was only 11 miles until the finish. That was a relief...except now I knew my GPS was unreliable in the woods and I couldn’t generate meaningful milestones to stay mentally strong! To add insult to injury, my GPS would frequently auto-pause on climbs, because I wasn’t moving fast enough for it to detect forward progress. Sigh.

I caught another racer who was experiencing some cramping. He had what he needed, so I rode on. I tried to remember landmarks from Lap 1 that would help me gauge how much was left to go, but it was hard to distinguish one woodsy turn from another. More fuzzy brain, more fatigue in the legs. I was nearly ecstatic to hit the final climb, and just prayed my spaghetti arms and aching shoulders would hold strong while I bombed the downhill.

As I raced down, my mind cleared and my spirits lifted. There was Teresa, along with her daughters, cheering for me halfway down the hill! Their screams put a smile on my face and I wove through that tedious, grassy section feeling a true sense of accomplishment. I crossed the finish line at five hours and thirty-nine minutes, happy with my performance and thankful to be done.

The joy of crossing the finish line

Post race, I hung out with the fabulous EPIC Mountain Bike crew, who were kind enough to get some photos of me crossing the finish line. One of my biggest challenges is eating after a race, so I took Mitch’s advice and packed all the things that sounded good. After my bottle of Recoverite, I snacked on cherries, Pringles and sour gummy worms. I even had a little Coke - a rare treat!

Not sure if it is the exhaustion or if she is actually taking my advice and enjoying some Recoverite

Too happy, but not sure she needs to do it again any time soon

Lessons: 50 miles on a mountain bike is freaking hard. It’s head-to-toe physical, full of anaerobic effort and mental exertion. I am proud to accomplish it, but don’t need to make a habit of these long-distance races. I’ll leave that to crazy Mitch.

Footnote: Two weeks after HH50, I raced the Grand Rapids Triathlon. It was my third time doing the Olympic distance, and I was concerned about (1) whether I would be recovered enough to perform well and (2) whether my lack of consistent swimming and running for the sake of spring biking would prove detrimental. But something told me a PR was possible. I set goals for the bike and run, then didn’t dwell on the upcoming race.

The swim went as expected, with tons of physical contact and a slightly slower average pace than last year. The bike was phenomenal - I crushed my average pace goal, thanks to all those focused workouts and a new set of tires. And the run was awesome, too. I ended up with a massive PR, beating my previous time by more than 10 minutes and putting in bike and run paces that were faster than any triathlon of any distance.

Bike, bike, bike

Why would anyone run when they have a perfectly good bike? Great job Laurie.

So my big takeaway is this: singletrack is good for the soul, and my race performance. I’m excited to combine mountain biking and triathlon in next month’s DINO XTERRA race - but mostly, I’m ready to rip with the kickass women I’ve met on this journey!