LOTOJA 2008

I'll break this report down into two versions. The 2.06 mile version (pictures included!) and the 206 mile version. First 2.06:
Carbo Load/Race Prep
Lose some skin/crack a helmet.
Dominate the sprint finish.
One happy family.
Third place.

And now the 206 mile report:
Lotoja (low-ta-juh) is once again in the books and I'm not sure who is happier, Beth or my hindquarters. Those two will have to discuss amongst themselves. All things considered it was a pretty good day. This was my 5th race and it serves as a great motivator all summer to stay in a shape. Not necessarily in shape but a shape. Training was certainly better than last year when I re-injured my knee four weeks before the race but I still didn't get the miles I would have preferred. Thus my motto "next year is the year".

We arrived in Logan Friday afternoon in time to check in, visit the team shop, and join family, friends, and the rest of Cache Valley at Olive Garden for the requisite carbo loading. Afterwards is the real highlight of the weekend, Grandma and Grandpa's homemade peach ice cream. That night we prep the water bottles, load the musette bags for the various feed zones, give last minute instruction to support team members, and of course talk strategy. The strategy is something like this, I won't wait for you if you won't wait for me. I've waited for two people in the past, one paid my entry fee and bought me a jersey, the other took 30 minutes to help me fix my cleat in the freezing rain. Unless you do one of those two things I'm not prolonging what is already a very long day in the saddle.

Casey and I had one of the last start times around 7:15 am. My brother Brian started even later around 7:30 a.m. There are over 1000 racers but they break us up into groups of 50 or 60 based on age and category. The first 33 miles to Preston are traditionally a group warm up with no attacks. This year's pace was frustratingly slow with too many riders taking long slow pulls up front. It turned out to be an omen of things to come. As pathetic as our pace was we actually caught the group that started 3 minutes in front of us outside Preston. I checked to make sure Casey was on my wheel as I started to battle through the congestion so we could get to the first feed zone at the front of the pack. I don't know what happened but that was the last time I would see Casey that day. I was pretty aggressive as I tried to get away from the rest of the gomers. It's my opinion that you can't win the race in Preston but you certainly can lose it. If you don't have a quick stop and get out fast you may never be able to catch the race leaders.

Thanks to Uncle Bill I did have a lightning quick refresh of water bottles, dropped off my cold weather gear and was on my way. There was a couple of us that hooked up right after Preston and started reeling in groups to make sure nobody rode through the feed zone and broke away. We caught my dad and some of the others from his group and rode down the hill to Riverdale together. By this point there were three other leaders that had started with me. We continued to pick up people as we past them heading up the hill to Mink Creek. Then contrary to the basic laws of physics as the group got bigger we got slower and slower. Remember the theme, too many long and slow pulls by gomers. The four of us then took control and rode away from the rest of that pack. As the hill ticked up a notch going over Strawberry the four leaders became three. It was at this point that a rider came flying by us at a wicked pace. I had flashbacks to 2006 when I actually tried to hang with this same guy, Nate Pack, for a while. This year he started three minutes after me but two years ago we were in the same group. That year he went on to ride the last 175 miles by himself and take first place over all. This year he missed first place by a minute. The guy is an absolute machine. It's weird that I am starting to recognize riders who I have ridden with in the past. If I saw these guys on the street I wouldn't know them from Adam but give me a nice view of their butt in lycra and I know exactly who it is.

I was really suffering but couldn't believe I lasted this long with two guys who were obviously very good climbers. I am not a very good climber but the combination of an awesome loaner bike and the amazing Lifewave patches I was able to hang on until just about 100 meters from the false summit. As I hit the first false summit the leaders' lead of 100 meters quickly turned to 500 meters with their head start on the downhill. At this point I was caught by another guy in my group and together we set off to try and bridge the gap on the saddle before actual summit in a couple miles. We flew down the hill and were cruising at good pace on the flat and could still see the two leaders a few hundred meters ahead. I was sitting second wheel when we came up on three other guys. I thought for sure we were just going to go around and continue the pursuit but for some reason the other guy thought it would be good to sit up and duck in behind them to draft. I did not see this bonehead move coming and before I could hit the brakes I rode right into the back wheel of the guy. I went down hard on my right side and my helmet bounced twice on the pavement. Immediate answers to "are you alright?" went unanswered as I tried to clear my head. My first thought was I wonder if this is bad enough to climb in the van and quit. Then my left calf cramped up like never before and thoughts changed. Turns out it wasn't very bad. My bike was mostly OK, my helmet had a crack but was still in one piece, I lost some skin on both knees and my right thigh has some road rash but amazingly my shorts didn't rip. You can see some the blood through the Norda's logo on my shorts above. The neutral support helped me rinse off the wounds and apply some band aids that lasted all of 6 or 7 miles, I took a nature break and was back on the bike.

At this point I had no idea how long I had been down or how many had passed me. I was surprised that I hadn't seen Casey or my dad yet. I caught one guy who was one of the original four leaders and he said we were at best 5th and 6th. So of the 100 people that passed me while I was on the side of the road only a handful were in my group, that was nice. The ride into Montpellier was the slowest and most frustrating ever, terribly slow riders failing to point out the simplest obstacles in the road. In fact that was basically how it went for me the rest of the day, making this my most frustrating Lotoja ever. I think next year I will try to race in a different category. Competition will be stiffer but I will get an earlier start time and hopefully find people to help me set a pr and break 10 hours.

My sister Kristin was stellar on support. This was the first time in a few years that my support person was at every stop and didn't leave me standing there wondering where they (you know who you are Beth and Casey) were. Casey's stellar support even hooked me up with Advil out of their 'just in case' box. This year I added two new pieces to my race food, orange slices and turkey and cheese rolled up like a taquito. Both hit the spot and kept me going. Probably the highlight on the course was seeing Beth and the kids at the feed zone in Alpine. Jack was stoked and tried to be helpful by handing me the empty water bottles I had just discarded.

After the last climb over Salt River I was joined by another rider from my group named Jess. He and I rode the last 100 miles together. As good as a rider as he was we still were plagued by bad groups. We hooked up outside both the Afton and Alpine feed zones and we thought we might be racing for third place but could very easily be racing for 6th and a spot off the podium. With about 30 miles left we were with 2 other racers from his team who had started earlier. I went to shift gears and my chain fell off, a by-product of the crash. By the time I got it back on I was about to give up catching those guys, figuring that the three team riders weren't going to sit up and let me chase back on. Then Uncle Tom to the rescue. Tom and Shelly teamed up to do a relay this year and Tom had just gotten back on the bike in Alpine and caught me. He said he'd help me catch back up. He set a blistering pace that I couldn't match but then backed it up a notch and let me recover for a bit as we eventually caught Jess and his group.

The last 30 miles were more of the same and Jess was still on my wheel as we neared the finish line. I had yet to have a sprint finish that actually mattered and was pretty excited for this one. I kept telling myself that if I lost this sprint it wasn't going to be because I went too early, as is usually the case. I needed to be patient and release the fury inside the last 100 meters. With 1 KM to go Jess pulled up even with me and we started to ramp up the speed. There were other riders in the group that wanted in on the action as well and joined us in the left lane. With 400 meters to go another guy said something like "well I might as well win this" and took off, sprinting into the right lane. I won the sprint to get on this guys wheel edging out a fifth rider. Jess was now sitting on my wheel and soon as the pace barely slowed he attacked swerving into the left lane with 200 meters to go. He had opened up a lead of 4 or 5 bike lengths and I wasn't sure I could reel him in. My left calf had been on the verge of cramping since the crash. Sure enough I got into his slipstream and nailed it back, sat on his wheel for 2 seconds and before we ran out of room came around him as fast as I could. I owned. Such a fun way to finish. Based on the finish photo above it looks like I won by a bike length or so. It was even better to find out that the sprint was for third, which at that point was the best I could hope for. After we crossed the line Jess came up and slapped me on the back and said "that was #@$%&*#@ awesome!"

It was a great day and even better to be done. Mostly sunny, comfortable temperatures, the head winds could have been dialed down but also could have been worse. The majority of team Norda's gathered at the Teton Club courtesy Pam and Gary to tell and re tell our war stories of the day. And after we've done that we tell war stories from the past and speculate on next year's adventures. It's all part of the experience.

The next day, when the adrenalin wears off comes the real pain. It became apparent that I bruised a rib or two along with my hip in the crash. I also woke up to blood covered sheets. Remember that scene in The Godfather where the guy wakes up with his sheets soaked in blood and finds his horse's head in bed with him? Well it wasn't like that all. But I was patting myself down trying to figure out what was wrong, but it was just a leaky band aid.

Thanks everyone for a good time, see you next year.

*I wish my 25 page paper due next week in Business Strategy was on my Lotoja experience because I could totally do it.