National Marathon Championships

[Carl Sanders]

Sometimes the best made plans, fail to produce the expected results.

This was to be my last race of the season. A final jump into the big pond at Marathon Nationals in Bend, Oregon. My fitness from a full season of training and racing seemed on on par with the the level of competition that I would expect at this venue. I had to give it a go to see what I had in me. The objectives were straightforward: show up, pay attention and engage the event.

A week prior, by chance encounter on a San Geronimo Ridge ride, I ended up connecting with Dario Fredrick and making arrangements to  carpool up to Bend together. As has been said, hang with those that carry a bigger box, if you want to expand your horizons. I was willing to give it try. At the very least, I figured that I might even learn something from the current National XC champion, if I simply paid attention.  

We ended up driving north with his collegue John Hurt and his wife Lisa, both accomplished cyclists in their own right. The talk was all racing, training, riders and gear. I was immersed in the cycling competition. A mini intensive training camp seemed in store. I felt a bit out of my league. 

After the eight hour drive north on Tuesday, we set up shop in a small house in Bend next to the Deschutes River, and prepared to head out for a full pre-ride of the course the next day. Our course map provided just enough detail to keep us going in the generally correct direction, but left us guessing which route to take at most intersections.

The terrain was smooth and fast; the 3,500' elevation gain appeared reasonable; we'd top out just over 5,000'; twenty five miles out and up toward Mt. Bachelor from Bend, then return along a similar route; descending through miles of banked turns, bumps, drops and high speed lines; the traction loose as conditions were dry; more than once, my front wheel threatened to wash out in the deep trail dust.

John and Lisa planned to provide the much needed bottle hand-ups at two locations. The plan was to keep a steady pace up the climb with consistent hydrating and fueling from two Hammer Gel flasks.

The 40 - 49 Expert Category had 50 plus registered riders, the largest group by far.

A somewhat neutral road start out of the Old Mill District sorted most riders prior to the first hole shot onto single track. Despite a rather mellow roll-out, my heart seemed to pound. On to dirt, I tried to step it up, but failed to produce the power needed to work my way forward up the gradual climb. As much as may have wanted, I could not seem to conjure up the strength needed to produce the speed necessary to advance through the competition. It did not appear my 'win by attrition' strategy was going to work this time.

Past the mid-point, across a rolling section of the single track course, I crossed my front wheel in loose dirt, pitching over the bars, smacking my right elbow hard on an exposed chunk of rough volcanic rock. The impact quickly produced ample blood and dampened further my already waning enthusiasm. 

By the time I reached the top of the ripping single track descent back into town, I felt blown and unable to fully concentrate on the relentless and dizzying blast of turns, jumps and rocks ahead. My speed through this section ended up feeling much faster on our pre-ride.

Toward the bottom, the course flattened out, rolling back and forth between the paved road and the nearby dirt roads and trails. I did my damnedest to keep up the momentum, pedaling with all I had, but still failed to find that fifth gear.

Across the finish in a disappointing 21st place, I spun out my legs and tried to sort out my mind. Dario took first in our category and asked me how my race went on our pedal back to the house. Somewhat stunned, totally exhausted, I didn't have much to say.  Even now, I still can't totally figure out what went down for me that day.

Time now to reflect, relax and reconfigure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Jim Hewett]

Good try, Carl, and a great learning experience.

[Paul Montgomery]

Somehow I missed your write-up...Where is Yoda when you need him...respect for taking it on...