I thought a different side of the gravel racing. From the back of the pack.
Somehow my son Lucas convinced me that racing the Eager Beaver again would be fine. This was my third time racing the Eager Beaver and the first two races didn’t go extremely well. The first time I made it to about 70km before the cramps started, but thankfully I was riding with a friend (Will Au-Yeung) and we were both in a bit of misery and were able to pull each other along.
This time I was prepared. Fitness was pretty good. My bike was set up better than previous years. 45mm tires, low gearing, short cranks, and a better fit. 3 bottles with decent carbs and electrolytes. Two handfuls of gels. Low expectations. Good to go.
The race started at a reasonable pace but really quickly broke into small groups. I remembered the first medium hill and the really big hill. But I forgot about all of the other hills in between. It made it really hard to ride in a group. But I managed to ride into the hill mid-pack with about 10 other riders. Felt good so far. The group split apart at the big hill as expected. I had decent gearing and I felt strong. I decided to push a little harder in order to keep my cadence high to try to avoid torquing my legs. But my power was closer to 300w than I was hoping for. Probably not the best way to pace.
Made it over the top still in a reasonable position. Managed to ride with a small group of 4 or 5 for a while including a MTB-racing friend of mine. A few of the guys were trying to attack though which was silly. But I eventually settled with 3 other guys taking turns on the front. That was really fast and really fun. I was pushing hard but it felt good.
Then came the big dirt forest climbs. Apparently Lucas rode them but there was no way I was able to. Maybe with fresh legs but definitely after a couple of hours of hard riding. So walking it was.
The downhills were awesome though. Both on the gravel hitting 75+km/h and in the forest. I found I could ride downhill faster than anyone around me. But it really took a toll on my triceps. Really, really could have used a front suspension.
After the second hour I was riding mostly solo and the wind made the hills an ever bigger challenge. I did catch a few riders though and moved up a few positions. And the scenery was beautiful and the weather was great. I kept riding and felt pretty strong. I was purposefully trying to spin and keep my pace low to avoid cracking. I took 4 or 5 gels through the race along with some soft ride food. As much as my stomach would allow.
But around 60km I noticed my legs starting to cramp a little. Not badly, but enough that I dropped my pace to try to conserve. And I walked a few of the steep dirt hills that I could have ridden just to conserve a little. I caught another rider who was complaining that his legs were starting to cramp and I pulled him along a little. My response was that I’m mostly good so far.
But at 70km I was getting full cramps in my quads and hammies. I had pickle juice which seemed to help, but not enough. I could still ride, but at one point I had to get off my bike to get around some major puddles and my right leg was completely locked. After standing for a few minutes I could start peddling again.
Not a lot of fun. I wasn’t sure I could actually make it to the end since both legs were cramping. My power dropped significantly and I noticed my heart rate was sometimes higher than my power. Ouch.
At the last feed stage I took some water and a short break and considered whether or not I could hold out. Maybe 20km left but I was already over 4h in. But the nice lady at the feed station highlighted it was mostly downhill from there. It was….and I needed it. My triceps were now joining my legs and screaming at me. Two people passed me on that last stretch but I didn’t have the legs to respond.
I made it back to Mansfield knowing the final MTB section would be brutal. Normally I would have been looking forward to the section, but at this point I just wanted to finish. I made it up the Mansfield climb and enjoyed a bit of the downhill sections. Someone that still had legs passed me on one the climbs only to cut me off on the downhill. Not cool. I made a point to fly by him at warp 9…only to get passed again on the next small climb.
Made it down the final hill and over the line. Collapsed on the ground as expected and swallowed a gatorade that Lucas had brought me. He had already been done for an hour and was back on his feet.
That was a tough one. I was 30 minutes slower than last year and in much rougher shape. Probably a factor of the wind, humidity, and riding solo for too long.
Much closer to the back than to the front, but happy I was able to finish. But I’d be much happier if the race was only 70km instead of 100. Like last year I vowed to never do that again.
Until next year of course.
