Category — FC508

At The Start of the FC508

I have no idea how I am going to recount 508 (actually 509.6) miles over a 41 hour period into a manageable race report.  Too many hours, miles, landmarks and thoughts had passed over all that time and distance for me to remember accurately.  Most of the race is a blur to me.  The things I remember most happened in the last 60 miles or so when I was practically delirious from the lack of sleep.  I had never gone so long without and it was a new and strange experience.  However I’ll do my best to give an accurate race report and my feelings throughout it.  I suspect it will take me a while to write and will only come to fruition when I receive the pictures my crew took with their commentary.  I need something to spark my memory. 

Race day saw mild temperatures and a calm day.  My crew and I got to the hotel where the starting line was located and had a decent breakfast.  I had some eggs, pancakes, sausage and French toast.  Not too much, just enough to fill my belly so I wouldn’t feel hungry for the next hour or so.  After that I said goodbye to my crew, one of whom was my 10 year old son, and then mentally started to get ready to ride over 500 miles over the next two days.  I lined up towards the front of the starting line and made chit chat with some of the other racers.  Mostly I was just quiet and took in the surroundings. 

The race started at exactly 7am with a police escort out of town.  This was the only time in which you were allowed to ride in a pack and I was careful not to head out with the front of it.  I had no idea of my strength and stamina in relation to the others, so I just stayed in what I thought to be the middle of the pack and tried to keep my heart rate low.  For some reason, this seemed impossible for the first 150 miles.  Perhaps it was the hills, my competitiveness to stay with other riders or just pure adrenaline, but my HR was around 80 – 85 % of max for most of this time.  I knew it should be lower, but I was feeling good and able to maintain an easy conversation.  I was also climbing for much of this time and I suppose when I am fresh it is easier to produce a higher heart rate.  I decided not to concern myself with this and just concentrated on how my body was feeling and to monitor any signs of fatigue. 

My crew, along with everyone else’s, was waiting 25 miles out from the start of the race.  I made it there without incident and this was my first stop of the day.  I had contemplated stopping earlier for a pee break, but I figured I should try to hold out at least until I found my crew.  At this point I stripped my bike of my flat kit and anything else I didn’t need now that I had support.  I started out with one water bottle mixed with Hammer Nutrition HEED and a CamelBak filled with water.  I swapped the CamelBak for a second bottle filled with water and then got under way.  My crew then played leap frog with me until 6pm that evening. 

Riding in the Desert

During all this time I was moving pretty good.  I was averaging a moving speed of over 15 MPH and feeling quite satisfied.  I felt fine, was very comfortable and in very familiar territory as far as distance traveled (DT) and time on bike (TOB).  We did a few water bottle handoffs without incident and it was all systems go for a continued successful race. 

During the first day I did have one stressful period.  I went ahead of my crew while I believe they got gas and replenished our supply of ice.  We figured on about 15 minutes before I would see them again, but I think it turned out to be over an hour.  The two-way radios we had weren’t reaching and I had no idea where they were.  I just kept riding and hoped they would soon reappear.  Part of the stress of this concerned the fact that I did not have my flat kit.  I would be royally screwed if I got a flat and I tried not to think about it.  I rode as far as I mentally could when I felt that I had to stop and try to contact them by some means.  I came upon another crew and asked if I could borrow a cell phone.  They were more than happy to oblige, so I called the only cell phone number I knew by heart; my own.  It was a long shot that they would answer, but I had to try.  I gave it two attempts, but there was no answer.  I figured that they would soon find me, so I just continued on.  After all, this was the desert, where could I possibly go? 

I held my faith into that a bracelet I wear, sent to me by a friend and the necklace that my daughter gave me for good fortune would keep any evil forces looking to spoil my race at bay.  Eventually my radio crackled with the sounds of my crew coming up on me.  I immediately relaxed and let the issue drop from my mind.  I was sure they were just as upset and stressed by it as I was and it made no sense to make an issue of it. 

A real highpoint of the race occurred later in the day at a time station.  A woman from Minnesota approached me and asked if I was the Brooklyn Beast.  After telling her that I was she went on to say that I was a legend.  A big smile broke out on my face, along with surprise and I asked her to explain.  She stated that her husband would always read my blog and that if I could do this race, then he could so this race.  This all happened in front of Beast Jr and I think he was very impressed.  Certainly the question couldn’t have come at a better time. 

For the rest of the day we rode away from the sun and towards Death Valley.  The weather was miraculously perfect for racing.  It wasn’t hot and was in fact overcast for much of the day.  In fact we even had a few rain sprinkles.  However, towards the late afternoon it did become sunny and the sun’s rays felt very hot on my butt which was under a pair of black cycling bib shorts.  Next time I am going to wear white shorts.  I was told at the Time Station before Furnace Creek that I would arrive at it well after nightfall.  In fact, we entered it just as the sun set so we travelled through Death Valley all through the night. 

Feeling Strong at Night

Here are the things I remember most from the Death Valley crossing.  The climb up to get into it was relentless.  It kept getting colder as the altitude climbed.  When I finally reached the summit I was quite chilled and decided to put on arm warmers and a jacket.  However, as soon as I began my descent, the temperature quickly rose and I became over heated.  I had to stop and shed back down to my shirt and shorts.  

Once in the valley, the weather was warm and dry.  The sky was crystal clear and I kept catching myself looking up at the stars, especially when I stopped for a break. 

There were so many field mice… Suicidal field mice.  They would dart out from the side of the road and run right towards my tires.  I think I even ran over one of them with my rear wheel.  I saw a lot of them squished along the road. 

There were moths flying everywhere and plenty of spiders crawling alongside the road. 

I was disappointed that my son felt asleep as soon as we arrived in the valley, but I didn’t want to wake him up. 

I remember passing the sign for Badwater and I reiterated my hope that one day I’ll be able to do the Badwater 135 Endurance Run. 

I remember the climb out of the valley to be relentless, but I seemed to do it in good form. 

In the Desert on Sunday Morning

I felt great Sunday morning, as if I could ride forever. 

I really wish I could remember more from this section.  In fact, I don’t remember much until we reached the Mojave Desert.  This section kicked my ass.  According to the temperature reading on my watch, it reached 120 degrees.  I roasted under the sun like a suckling pig stuck on a skewer over an open fire.  I think my whole body was red as a boiled lobster.  Eventually I had to stop because I was over heated.  At the point my son had a good idea.  He took off his undershirt and gave it to me to wear under my helmet soaked in cold water.  This helped tremendously… that and an ice pack that I stuck on the back of my neck and between my shoulder blades.  This for the most part made the hot sun bearable.  I was going so slow at some points, that I couldn’t even out ride this bulbous desert flies that flew around and pestered me for miles. 

Roasting in the Mojave Desert

The climb out of the Mojave was horrible.  The road was awful.  It seemed to be made of rocks baked into a worn out tarmac.  The climb out was around 20 miles consisting of this type of road.  I just looked forward to the ride down and getting out of there.  Unfortunately, the road on the way down was no better and I couldn’t make any speed for fear of being thrown from my bike. 

The sun pretty much set soon after leaving the Mohave.  My crew remembers landmarks, places, climbs, etc. much better than I do.  Going into the second night it was all about relentless climbs, spotting blinking lights in the distance, wondering when climbs would end and furiously avoiding potholes, real and imagined during the descents.  I began to become obsessed with looking out for potholes.  I did not want to hit one and get thrown from the bike.  Several times I was scared shitless while riding down hills.  There was one 17 mile descent in which the road was smooth.  During this part, I began to feel confident again and let loose from the breaks.  The rushing air, smooth road and the exhilaration of moving fast felt great.  Of course, this was in the pitch blackness of night and I was worried about a pothole, but I figured if I crashed I wouldn’t be aware of things for too long.  I was probably going much too fast to survive a fall.  

If I wasn’t concentrating on avoiding potholes on the down hills, I was busy trying to follow the white line on the right side of the road.  By now I could hardly lift my head while riding in the aero position.  I told my crew to keep a sharp eye out on the road ahead of me, because all I could do was to let my head hang and watch the road immediately underneath me.  I couldn’t do this for long though as I was getting much too paranoid about not being able to see the road.  Eventually, I accommodated myself by keeping one arm in the normal aero position, and the other arm with my elbow positioned on the arm rest with my arm propping up my head.  Think of someone sitting at a table, holding up their head by resting it in their hands while their elbows are on the table.  I felt a little ridiculous, but it worked.  I made excellent progress this way and it didn’t seem to affect my cadence or speed. 

With about 20 miles left, I started to have the strangest thoughts.  I think I was really dreaming while I was awake at this point.  I couldn’t figure out what would happen at the finish line.  I can’t even really express now what was going through my mind.  It was something to the effect that something was supposed to happen when I got there.  I was suppose to buy something, do something or just something was supposed to happen.  What this “something” was I could not figure out and this was bothering me a great deal.  I told @gregbarnett, the crew chief during one of our brief stops that I didn’t know what was supposed to happen at the finish.  I think I also told him I was delirious and thinking very strange thoughts.  I couldn’t figure out why my crew was with me and what they were supposed to do/get when we reached the end. 

The last 15 miles were kind of special to me.  Even though I was a bit crazed from the lack of sleep, I seem to remember them the best.  While I can’t explain what I was thinking, I know they were weird and interesting thoughts.  I was outside of myself looking in and enjoying the ride.  I was two people; one going through the event and another just watching myself.  I told the crew at this point to start counting down the miles and to give me my splits.  I knew with 15 miles left, that if I maintained a 15mph average it would only be an hour until I reached the finish line.  An imaginary countdown clock appeared in the upper left corner of my mind (yes, it had an actual position in my brain) and I used it to mentally count down the minutes that remained.  At times I thought the clock was broken as it appeared that no one else could see it.  At times the clock appeared to get stuck and this frustrated me greatly.  I got upset when this happened and I wondered why the numbers wouldn’t change. 

With just a few miles remaining, we finally made it into 29 Palms.  We missed a turn at this point and this upset me for various reasons.  I think the biggest reason is that the road we were on was extremely smooth and I was making good time on it.  I was pissed that I had to turn around and that I couldn’t just continue to ride on it.  I think we were all extremely tired by now and with only the few miles remaining, we really couldn’t tell exactly how much was left.  We eventually got back on course, with the aid of the mapping application on an iPhone.  This upset me greatly as I wanted to be sure we were on the correct course.  I didn’t want to be disqualified with just a mile or so remaining, because we didn’t take the prescribed course.  However, I was assured that we were going correctly, so I just left it to faith that we were heading home. 

The final stretch of road seemed to go on forever.  I was told about 1.75 miles until the finish.  I was measuring distance by my internal clock at this time and when I felt this distance go by I stopped, looked back at my crew vehicle and said we should have been there by now.  I was told not to worry to just keep moving on.  As the road kept stretching out in front of me I began to get more and more agitated.  At one stop light there was a group of kids on the side of the road who yelled out how far I am going.  In the back of my mind I knew something wasn’t right with them, but at the same time I was desperate for information from someone who may know the area.  @gregbarnett yelled at me from the window of the car to get moving.  He didn’t want me to get mugged from the kids who were at this point starting to run after us.  I put on the gas, moved on down the road and soon dropped them.  It was then that I reached one of the toughest hills that I encountered all day.  It was about a half mile long but very steep.  The kind if hill that I encounter on the east coast all of them time.  It pissed me off and I attacked it.  I made sure my pedal stroke was round and pushed and pulled right over the hill with about as much strength as I had at any time during the race.  The downhill from there was an excellent recovery, after which, just like that, I was at the finish line. 

I was all smiles as I crossed the line and happy to be done.  I looked back from my crew and wanted them to come up to me as soon as possible.  I knew that my accomplishment would not have been possible had it now been for them and I was extremely grateful.  I wanted to share in whatever may happen at this point with them and I wanted them to get over to me quickly.  

Receiving Finishers Medal from Chris Kostman

I remember being greeted by Chris Kostman and a woman I think he introduced as his girlfriend?  She had read my blog and started talking to me about it.  I thought to myself how it seemed that many people read my little corner of the universe and how I really need to do a better job in the future of contributing to it more often.  I could have spoken to them all night about it, but soon after another rider, Scarlett Macaw, had come it.  Scarlett Macaw, a woman had done the entire ride on a fixed gear bike.  I was deeply impressed and felt that it made my accomplishment pale in comparison.  However, nothing was going to take away from what I accomplished and I went over to celebrate with my crew. 

I got my medal, race jersey, picture taken and then waved hello to the world at home who was watching the webcast of the race.  Several people we knew saw us (@suriamentari, @glennberkmeir), although I had no idea at the time.  I wish I could have gotten a recording of it.  We then got our gear together and headed over to our hotel.  Everything was closed at this point and none of us really had anything to eat.  I wished there was food at the finish line like sandwiches, hot soup or other food, but that was not to be.  Fortunately, I had some Recoverite from Hammer Nutrition with me and I mixed several packets of that in water.  At the hotel, I sat in a chair for a while.  Too tired to move and too tired to shower or go to bed.  I let a couple of other hit the shower first and then finally dragged myself into the bathroom to wash up. 

To say I was a mess below the waist was an understatement.  My skin was red and inflamed and the skin burned with the fires of hell when I washed off.  Fortunately, this was the worst of my injuries (at the time) and I quickly finished my shower and got out.  I probably could have used an ice bath for my legs, but I was already too cold and the thought of immersing myself in ice was just unappealing.  I got into bed soon after that, along with everyone else, contented in my accomplishment. 

Special thanks must go out to my crew for seeing me through this race. They are listed below with their twitter names.  Without them this would not have been possible and I am forever grateful: 

 @gregbarnett – who had although never done anything like this before seemed to think of everything.  His foot massage at about 200 miles into the race will always be remembered with surprise and pleasure.  He made for a completely smooth race and his unflagging enthusiasm encouraged me to keep on moving.  Greg, thank you for everything.  Your smile through the race was infectious and helped to keep me in a good mood throughout. 

@blahspam – although I only knew him through twitter and met him just a day before the race he took care of me as if I was his oldest friend.  His tireless enthusiasm, good humor and careful driving was epic in and of itself.  Always ready to grab my bike when I came in for a rest stop, he was constantly on the ball whenever I needed any little item.  I hope the monument he erected in the middle of Death Valley stands the testament to time and that we get to visit it again next year. 

@williamrozner – a last second stand-in for @glennberkmier (who unexpectedly got called into work for the weekend), he filled a much needed role.  Bill kept the team on course and whose information regarding the course as it laid ahead made the race manageable for me.  He gave me the information I craved as to what lay ahead, how much longer to the top of the next hill and what to expect around the next bend.  Bill mixed my water bottles perfectly and kept me on top of my nutrition throughout the race. 

@brooklynbeastjr – when my boy enthusiastically came up to me and said “Dad, I want to go with you and ride in the car”, I think I thought about it for half a second and realized that I would love to have him along.  A father could not ask for a more affectionate, loyal and caring son than mine and I knew I would appreciate having him with me.  He encouraged me to not let anyone pass me and to catch up to the person in front of me in such an innocent and encouraging way that it filled me with strength and pride.  I hope he remembers this trip forever and that it puts him on a course whereby he pursues a lifestyle surrounded by fitness and sets an example for his own children.  I love him so much and the bonding experience is something I will always remember. 

The Crew!