24 Hours of Moab

Team Sixty Percnt

It's hard to tell from the picture, but it was so windy and cold.

That's my bike #206 waiting to start the race.
Grabbing my bike after the LeMans-style start. That's Tinker Juarez (pro, solo 24-hour racer) in the green and purple to my right.

Ride, Eat, Sleep, Repeat. Yes, I survived the 24 Hours of Moab race this weekend. It was long, cold, windy and exhausting adventure, but at least I had good company to share in my misery. My brother Greg and I had been wanting to do this race for a long time and this year Greg finally got busy and signed us up. We put together a team of four guys consisting of me, Greg, my cousin Cory Mikkelson and my coworker Mark Bartlett. Our team name was Sixty Percnt (yes, Greg made a typo when he signed us up, but that's ok -- at least 60% of the word is spelled right).

The race started at noon on Saturday and ended at noon on Sunday. I was the lucky one that got to start the race. It was a LeMans style start, meaning that the riders had to sprint on their feet for about 200 yards before they jumped on their bikes and started riding. The wind and everyone's feet stirred up a lot of dust and with me breathing so hard I'm sure at least two pounds of it went directly into my lungs. This made for a rough start to the race. My second lap started at 6:40 pm and felt much better than my first lap. My third lap started at 2:00 am and was pure hell. I was so tired and cold. By the time I finished and got back to the trailer I was shivering like crazy. I couldn't stop it. It wasn't until about 30 or 40 minutes later that I was able to stop shivering and go to sleep. I said there was no way I was going to be able to do another lap.

Then it came down to last hour and a half of the race. Our forth rider came in at 10:30 am and it was my turn to start in the rotation. By this time the sun was up, the air was warmer and this gave me some motivation. I decided to go for it and ride my forth and final lap. I was slow, but at least I finished. It ended up not being as bad as I thought it was going to be.

When I do these things (long bike races, marathons, etc.), they sound like so much fun leading up to them. Then, when I am out on the middle of the trail or road, exhausted and sleep-deprived, I wonder to myself, "What have I gotten myself into? Why did I ever pay money to sign up for something like this and put myself through so much pain." Then, after a few weeks go by after the event I start thinking, "That wasn't so bad. That was actually kind of fun. I think I'd like to do that again next year." Crazy, I know. But that's the way it goes. Even as I'm sitting here writing this, with a sore butt, legs and back, I'm thinking that the trip was fun and I'm actually even contemplating doing it again.