Durango 100

The results are already posted! Matt and I spent a dirty, muddy, rain-infested day in Durango doing a mountain bike race on Saturday. Matt signed up for the 100-miler and I, the 36-miler.

We rolled into Durango Friday evening and registered. I'd checked the weather before heading out that day--20% chance of rain. We're gonna have dry weather! Or, worst case, it'll rain in the afternoon. I can live with that. When we picked up our swag bags at registration, a sheet with the race rules indicated that there was actually a 30% chance of rain, high of 78 and low of 40. Okay, I can live with that too...

We unloaded in the hotel room, Purgatory Village Hotel, got the packs and clothing set out for Saturday's race, and arranged the wake-up call, 4:00 AM. Uggghhhhh......We climbed into bed and tried to doze off. It's hard to sleep when you have the race jitters; they're something I haven't been able to overcome as of yet. I think I finally fell asleep, but was awakened to loud thunder and lightening. I looked over at the alarm clock, 1:00 AM. Well, hopefully the rain will pass by the morning. It didn't.

We hit the starting line and checked in with thunder and lightning going off all over the sky. Matt and I huddled under an overhang of a building contemplating whether we were out of our minds or what?!? We had a 30 minute delay in start and the storms had cleared for the moment. We were off...reluctantly.

The 100 milers took off first, then the 100K, then me, the 50K. Matt took off with lots of energy and strength. Me? Not so much. The initial climb up the Worlds Course left my wheels mud covered and seized. I had to hop to the side of the trail and scrape off the crap. This put me in VERY LAST FRIGGIN' PLACE!! It took every ounce of effort in my soul to not turn around and call it quits. Believe me, the though went through my mind several times that day. I jumped back on the bike and hauled ass, hoping to catch up with some. It wasn't until the dirt road that I started to pick off the riders. Of course by this time, since I was riding hard to catch up, I was already getting pooped. I felt like I was gonna hurl at any moment. I had this feeling with me through the majority of the race. I'm thinking maybe part of it was the altitude. Who knows.

Well, I made it up to the 1/2 way sag point and filled up the water bottle (I had Sustained Energy in there with about 1/4 of the bottle left). I crammed a Hammer bar down my gullet and managed to keep my break under 3 minutes. More single track. Today, single track was not my friend. It was muddy, slimy, wet, slick, gooey, sandy, and just plain sick. Heading up to the highest point on the Colorado Trail was brutal for the lungs. I could hardly breath and kept wishing for more road. A good majority of this was hike-a-bike for just about everyone. You saw more footprints in the "trail" than tire tracks. Once I hit the road, I picked off some more people, but all guys. My place in the women's standing was set...it had been by the time I had hit the Graysil Mine sag spot. Bummer.

I managed to make the ride crash-free until the very last leg of my journey heading back down the Worlds Course to the finish line. I was screaming down this gloppy, mud-infested excuse of a trail at a pace that even shocked me. I think I just wanted it to be over. There was a huge sign off to the right that said S-L-O-W. Well, duh, most people would slow down. Not me. I was getting ready to make the corner, banked to my left (uhhhh, you don't do that in slick mud) and slid out to my left. This "smart" move propelled me to my left and down the mountain. Holy crap! I landed on my chest, pushed apart some weeds to see where I was, and saw nothing but straight down. Ahhhhh!!!!! Scary as hell, let me tell you. The weight of my bike on me was starting to cause me to slide down the mountain, yes I was on mud, grass and weeds for the most part on a very steep incline. I managed to gingerly turn myself around while holding my bike in my right arm above my head at all times. I thought my arm would fall off. I tried to climb back up to the trail, feeling my feet give way in the mud with each push. I stopped and realized I needed to get rid of the bike. I just couldn't move well with it in my hand. I rested a sec and with one huge push, I threw it back on the trail, hoping it wouldn't bounce off the dirt and come falling back on me. I made it and the bike rested peacefully on the trail. That made it much easier for me to grab onto weeds and pull myself back on the trail.

YOUCH! My knees were killing me. I think I landed on them first. I shook off the pain, hopped back on the bike, and made it down to the finish line with Matt at the bottom clapping and smiling. I was really glad to see him there! He took my bike, handed me a recovery drink, and then left to spray off all the mud I'd collected from the day.

Final stats? 6 hrs, 31 minutes. I was 82 out of the 101 people stupid enough to race today. I placed 4th in my division. My only consolation? The women ahead of me were all big racers who do this crap on a continual basis. I'm glad it's over with and happy with the fact that I didn't bail out.