Arizona Trail Race 300

Posted on by nicolettejones13

A race this long almost never goes exactly to plan, but usually I end somewhere near expectation. This race was different. I actually had a stress dream the night before that foreboded the reality awaiting me. In the dream I finished a day later than planned and I could not remember why I had gone so slow.

In reality I finished a little less than a day behind my goal time, but I know why I went so much slower than I anticipated.

As I made my plans and researched the course, I set an ambitious time goal in the hopes of being able to push myself and build on the last two summers of bike racing. I was trying some new-to-me tactics: mainly, sleeping less and travelling without a proper sleep kit. At 300 miles, I figured this was a short enough race that I could ride it as one push with maybe an hour or two of sleep if I really needed it. I packed 18000 calories to start, because I knew I would miss the resupply open hours, and I did not want to go off course to make it to a 24 hour gas station.

At 5:50 am Thursday, October 16th John started pre-race announcements. I was messing with something last minute on my bike, forgetting to lube my chain and top off my rear tire. With two minutes to go I still had not even put my hair up. I quickly tied it back and took off with the group, the sounds of bike computers starting the route and friends and family cheering sent us out of camp. I rode for a few hundred feet with the group and then dropped off the back and pulled over. For the second time that morning, I had to poop. 

I was frustrated at the many small stops I had to make that morning: lubing my chain, topping off my rear tire (which first involved letting half the air out), tightening my seat post collar. All chores I had planned on doing the night before. The race start anxiety was slow to wear off, but despite my mistakes I still made my first two splits. 

I figured I would settle in once the field got spread out and there was less leapfrogging, but even as the day turned to afternoon I was still feeling anxious. I was feeling less and less motivated, even encouragement and excitement from other riders wasn’t landing.

As sunset on our first day of riding, I was feeling more unmotivated than ever. I wanted to quit for no reason. I was imagining something that could go wrong enough that I would have a reason to quit. I had to check myself. I did not really want to quit. I had put a lot of time and effort into just being out here, and I wanted to finish. But I was miserable. I was in tears over even the smallest misstep. I could not keep moving forward like this. I realized I was not going to be able to keep pushing myself to go as fast as I wanted to. If I really wanted to finish I was going to have to change my attitude.

I sat down and called Mark to talk it over. I decided to let my time goals go, and just focus on riding in a way that would get me to the finish line.

It was a long season of racing for me, and  I had just found the end of my mental steam. But I wanted to stay true to my commitment to do this race. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t finish.

Copy and pasted from my planning sheet:

Goals

  • Finish!
  • Explore new trails and be able to push myself in terrain that is new to me
  • Finish in less than 2:12

So, I moved ahead into the moonless night without paying mind to my clock or splits. The night riding was challenging as the tread in the rolling desert terrain was hard to make out.

Although I had given myself permission to not push so hard, I still did not have a sleep kit with me. So, except for the hour I could sleep before shivering awake, I was left riding through the night almost every night.

The rest of the race was challenging. The trail was tough, and certainly not my usual style, but dealing with my own attitude and decisions was the real crux. Not being able to sleep when I wanted to was incredibly mentally and physically draining. 

And despite all my gripes, there was some really incredible terrain: mainly the section between Tuscon and Oracle Ridge and the climb out of the Gila. I had some great time with other riders, especially Max, who rode into the Freeman Rain collector with me.

When I got to the finish, John Schilling and my mom and dad were waiting for me. I did not cry the tears of joy that I had imagined, but I was happy to be there.

I have quickly forgotten the pain, and the parts of the trail I liked shine a little brighter in my memory every day that passes. I look forward to going back, but maybe not next year.

Nic