A Dirty Experience: DK200 2012

This is going to be rather different. I did not take any photos. This is the one long event where I wanted to actually race and I knew the camera would become a time suck. Instead I saved my energy and focus for pedaling. So instead of a long rambling narrative about how each mile went I'll give you a semi-sequential perspective of thoughts that passed through my head at various points.

Leg 1

• Damn, I forgot the map of leg one in the motel room.
• Wow these guys are fast!
• (standing up) Is that the front? How far back am I? Is the group splitting up yet?
• Why is that guy riding towards us?
• 3 minutes pass
• Now why is this second guy riding towards us? "Wrong way?" Response "Yeah, you're off course."
• Why didn't I ask the first guy that?
• "Hi, are you Matt?" Yup.
• (Pass Chamois Butter crew.)
• Oh, this must be the big hill I saw in the elevation profile. Nice views.
• Da na na na, na na, na na. Can't touch this. Why is MC Hammer in my head? Must be this fun rough descent.
• Ouch! Bottoming out on this rough descent. I need to back off or I'll crush these rims.
• That rear sounds a bit flat-ish. (Stops to add air)
• There go those Chamois Butt'r guys
• 10 min pass
• Ha! Caught the Chamois Butt'r crew
• That rear sounds a bit flat-ish again. (Stops to try adding air, uses up another CO2, gives up on hoping the Stan's will seal, adds tube. Press on.)
• Gee, everybody has been really great about asking if folks need help when they flat.
• Sigh, there go the Chamois Butt'r guys again.
• I should have added more air pressure.

Leg 2

• This really isn't a ride, it's a race. There seem to be a big number of folks "racing" this year and not just doing it to finish. 
• Hello Chamois Butt'r. This is like some crazy Easter Sisyphean torture - The CB kit looks like an Easter egg and I keep collecting the eggs only to lose them later and have to collect them again. Sheesh.
• Ya know those CB team guys are probably the nicest team I've meet. Really they're genuinely just really friendly. :)
• I kinda suck at riding in a pace line. Not like I've ever done it before, but I really could improve here.
• Aaaaaaaaacck! (A wasp or bee or something ran into me and immediately stung me!)
• (5 minutes later) Ow, F#$&! What the hell is that! (Something different was inside my jersey and under my bib strap and biting or stinging me. Pulled over to remove the bugger. Press on.)
• 40c seems to be the sweet spot for tire size. Not required, but it would allow me to go a lot faster on some sections and be slightly less careful selecting a line.
• Huh, I haven't looked looked anywhere other than 20 feet down the road for the last 30 miles; I wonder if the scenery was worth a look?
• Ok. I think the flint of the Flint Hills is a bit overrated. The roads are certainly rockier than I expected, and that's something I didn't account for, but the rock doesn't seem as heinous as a lot of folks have made it out to be. A pinch flat seems like a bigger issue than getting a sliced tire from a razor sharp rock. ...or I'm just cashing in a bunch of good karma chips I suppose.
• (entering Florence, KS) Man this place is all boarded up. half these buildings are abandoned. Did the zombie Apocalypse happen on that last leg?

Leg 3

• Damn...it got hot.
• Why is the gravel here so bright? Perhaps I should have used darker lenses in my glasses.
• Riding solo in the second half, in the heat, means riding in the hurt locker - much more focus on what hurts.
• (after catching Paul Errington) Hi Paul. 
• Having good company keeps focus less on the brutality of it all.
• I'm not hating this, but I'm not sure if I'm 'enjoying' it.
• There are far more B roads than I expected.
• I'm tired. It's hot. My feet hurt. My hands hurt. (repeat)
• Oh, a stream! I'd like to put my feet in there! That would be nice.
• (at 8:50) This isn't good. Usually food starts to taste like poo at 9 hours and I've still got a long way to go.
• (Entering CP3) These people cheering me on are pretty darn cool. I'm pretty wasted though. I hope they see my half hearted wave and feeble smile as exertion and don't think I'm a jerk. I don't really have the sauce to react fast enough to wave before I pass some of them. 
• Me not think so well right now. (At he last CP after garbeling a few words and forgetting something 3 or 4 times)
• PB&J tasts WAY better than anything in my feed bag right now.
• I'm so glad Eric and Nick are there at the CPs supporting me. That really helps a lot. (as I write this - I think I said that to Eric at every CP! I wonder how I looked to them at this one as I fumbled around?...)

Leg 4

• This rail trail is nice, but why did we leave it for gravel only to cross it two more times??? Perhaps it's a sinister plan to keep us out of the shade...
• I could easily be pushing a bit harder and easily do this in under 14 hours. 
• Aero bars. Next time I need aero bars.
• Company makes the ride more pleasant. Sometimes I'm coasting waiting, sometimes I'm struggling to keep up. I wonder if I would be faster solo, or if this is actually faster?
• Would I want to just push myself the whole time? The company is nice and I really enjoy that experience. I feel conflicted on this point more than any other. 
• Huh. My legs don't hurt that much, but my hands and feet are killing me. (It's the reverse 2 days post race)
• Should we be drafting? Ride side by side is more social...even if we're both tired and not talking. It's solidarity. 
• Wow, even the tiny seams at the edge of my chamois are starting to rub me wrong.
• Somehow I seem to be doing just fine on the hills still but the flats seems a like a lot of effort.
• Oh neat! A little town.
•  ...are we supposed to be on pavement here? Perhaps we should check the map. (checks and turns back around to the little town)
• Strange that I don't have a craving for any particular food. Usually I'm dreaming of ____ for the last 50 miles.
• Sigh...these miles aren't rolling by fast enough.
• I reallllllllly want a root beer. Ice cold. Yeah root beer. 

Finish

• Wow!!! The folks honking and cheering are great! This is awesome. 
• (one of the race directors to me) "Do you have support here?" (ME) I don't know if they're here yet. "Here let me take your bike. I'll put it here. Can I get you a Coke. Do you want to sit in the grass? I'll be right back, you just stay there."  Hmmm I must look not so good right now. (Lays back in the grass, slightly panting.) I feel like I could very easily pass out right now. Should text Eric and ask for stretcher. 
• (Hearing riders come through the finish) Hey I know that name! I read their write up of a previous DK ride. Hey that person is from Colorado. 
• That Coke helped a lot! I want another.

After the finish

So, yeah. That was it. I never really felt like quitting and always knew I would make it. I was surprised by a few things and learned several things. A friend at the finish commented that he was "One and done." I tend to agree...mostly. The DK was a great event but there are simply so many other events and places I want to ride. Seriously training for something this long takes a lot of time and means skipping out on many other things. I really had to take it this seriously this year because of my lack of experience and fitness. It worked and I'm quite happy with how well I did. My goal was 15 hours, and I finished in 14:22. Not bad.

The only reason I would come back is to be competitive. I could have  pushed and gone faster. I also could have done slightly quicker turnovers at the checkpoints. I honestly think I could reduce my time by at least 30-45 minutes at my current physical ability. In the road and weather conditions of this year I might have been able to hit 13:30 if time was my sole focus. I was actually really surprised at this. On the other long rides I averaged 13.8 mph, and at DK it was 15.2! A big bump. It's even more surprising to know I could have done sub 14.

With another year or two under my belt my speed and endurance will naturally increase. Heck if I go again in 2014 that would literally double my time riding! Hopefully I'll also have my nutrition completely dialed in by then too (so I can find something I can still eat after 10+ hours). All of which would help me go even faster. So, will I ever go back? I don't have any immediate plans, but if I did it would be with an eye on the podium.

Survivor's guilt

I feel just a little bad. I really don't think I suffered too much out there. Everything I read about DK made me believe that it was a long evil road covered in razor wire traversing hell's hottest and most remote acres where demons would sneak up and dash any and all remaining hopes with monsoon rain, lightning to frighten the keys off Franklin and winds to blow you into Missouri. The truth is, that wasn't my experience at all.

I do realize how seriously lucky I was to run this race for the first time in near perfect conditions. There was vary little wind, the temps were not above 90 and there was not a drop of rain all day. To top it off we did have a light rain the night before which kept the dust down and improved the roads. On the other hand, it was still over 200 miles, the flint and rocks were still there, and there were still over 200 people who did NOT finish. I had a flat but it was nothing like the sidewall tear and multiple flats experienced by folks like Tim Eki. Really with a bit more tire pressure I could have avoided even this flat (i.e. it was operator error).

I don't feel guilty really. I'm quite happy that the weather turned out so well. I've had some (i.e. multiple) incredibly horrendous experiences climbing that were all out epic sufferfests and literal near death experiences. So yeah, I fell just fine about a mild sunny day. My performance out there does however make me think of "what next".

Fortes fortuna adiuvat 

I think I made the decision to do DK 2012 sometime in January. Previous to this I was familiar with the event, but the distance and reputation made me think I wasn't ready, and wouldn't be ready to tackle something with the reputation that DK has (See Survivor's guilt above). I've only been riding just over a year. Is that too soon to do this? I pushed and went big at the High Cascades 100 as my first year riding goal. I finished, but paid for it with an avulsion fracture. For some reason I went for it. It helped me to have a big goal (a BHAG if you will).

"Chance favors the prepared mind" - Louis Pasteur
I found a training plan. I rode my ass off. I passed up invitations to go on fun MTB rides in Moab and Buffalo Creek so I could focus my training. I nervously worried about and experimented with my nutrition. I got a bike that worked for me. I researched the hell out of tires, equipment, and the experience of other riders. I went in so prepared that there really were very few surprises. I got damn lucky that I went with two great folks who did an amazing job of supporting me at the CPs and were a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. It all worked.

I have a few other races this summer and I have R2G2 in the fall. I've decided to keep R2G2 as is for this year and have the full 200 next year (the history of this idea here). Doing the full 200 will be a gonzo goal, one that will be a big effort filled with a little suffering, but it's doable. After DK I'm already reevaluating myself and my abilities. I have a very interesting project I'm now involved with that involves foreign travel, stage racing, economic development, and a route section with the ominous name "the soul collector". For me that's not the gonzo goal. Will it be the AZT 300? Coconino? the CTR? I'll make that decision in the coming months, but there will be something big and it will probably involve fatter tires and an overnight.