Lutsen 69er

The Lutsen 99er (69er, 29er, and 19er) is an off-road bike race that takes place on the North Shore of northern Minnesota. ((Where the Superior Hiking Trail is!)). This race was the fuel for me to buy my mountain bike and get into riding. This race is a challenge. And this race provided the opportunity to come together with friends and family back in the midwest. So of course I agreed to it, 8 months in advance, and before I even had a bike!

Two weeks leading up to this race, I dropped down to the 69 mile distance. BUT FIRST, I obsessed about it. Would dropping down be considered a failure? Would people be disappointed in me? Would I be disappointed in myself? Was I just scared and running from the fear of the discomfort 100 miles would bring? Matt patiently listened to me contemplate this outloud for weeks. Ultimately none of those questions really mattered. What mattered is that I was not feeling prepared for this race and truly was NOT prepared for this race, and that was ok. Life happens. As soon as the change was made and the world kept on turning, my anxiety about the race decreased by at least 50%. Some of the pressure (read: self imposed pressure) was gone.

Our trip to Minnesota was a whirlwind. We left Friday morning after my overnight shift and drove straight through to Coon Rapids, MN. I slept a large part of the morning and Matt drove the whole way! Friday morning we had a filling breakfast with Matt’s parents and started the remaining leg of the journey up the North Shore to Lutsen where we met up with our good friends Monica and Tony and the remainder of the “team”. The team is affectionately called Team F@!k Yea. If you remember Tony was the final encouraging voice in my choice to purchase my mountain bike last fall in anticipation of participating in this race. Apparently i’m easy to talk into difficult endeavors.

The race began Saturday morning bright and early in beautiful, cool, lake shore weather. The course begins with 1000+ participants careening down a steep paved hill toward the lake with the first 7 miles of the course following paved roadways before finally jumping to dirt and gravel trail.

My tires would not touch pavement for the next 63 miles.

During this initial descent my eyes welled up with tears and my throat started to close with a  sudden rush of emotions. How privileged was I, that even in physical shape that I had been considering “poor”, I was still moderately confident in my bodies ability to take me over 70 miles, off road, by bike. I’d like to say that this gratitude carried me effortlessly over the first climb, but that would be a lie. The first climb was a slog. Although the first 7 miles were paved they also climbed over 1000 feet with downhills that provided little reprieve from the uphill strain. Finally we turned onto the first ATV trails and began the real race.

By the first aid station at mile 23 I was feeling nauseated and my muscles were on the verge of cramping. What was happening!? My mind was racing. To avoid cramping and ensure that I didn’t bonk I had to force myself to eat. My general motto for consuming nutrition is “Eat early, Eat Often”. I think I picked that up from a book somewhere. But clearly I wasn’t listening to my own mantra. From that point on I started taking salt tablets about every hour and consuming as much gels, gu’s, water and electrolyte supplements, my stomach could handle. Unfortunately the idea of any real food (except for potato chips which none of the aid stations had!) made my stomach roll. So I stuck with what worked.

While I was silently panicking over the unusual feeling of struggling so hard in the first part of the race (I have never felt this close to generalized muscle cramps before), the first place 100 mile riders came whizzing through the aid station. They had extra loops added to their course compared to mine, but they were clearly way ahead of me and covering miles at a breakneck pace. I reluctantly hopped back onto my bike with my other motto, “Just keeping swimming”, on repeat in my brain.

The course in general was not very fun. It was made up of stretches of boring gravel interspersed with sections of rocky ATV trail. Nothing seemed to happen between miles 23-56. I kept my head down and tried to keep up my pace, especially on the gravel sections. The course for the 69er climbs approximately 5000 feet in a series of small, steep climbs. It was a large confidence booster to pass fellow riders on the uphills. My bike has a the wonderful benefit of a large easy gear and I’ve had plenty of climbing practice out here in NC.

The third aid station sits between a long stretch of wide, backwoods gravel road and a narrow wooded, smooth ATV trail. At this point I am regularly being passed by 100 mile riders. It's hard to believe that people are finishing 100 miles in less time than it takes me to do these 69. I’m still chugging along, taking my salt tabs, eating gummies. Thus far, I have managed to hold off the actual cramping and my stomach has settled. I head out into the narrow, wooded ATV trail. It's quite beautiful and stretches through large stands of pine trees. Pine forest in the sunshine is one of my favorite places and smells, so I was feeling pretty content but also starting to feel a bit fatigued. At mile 56, 5 hours and 45 minutes into this race, Tony comes whizzing by. I made a point to look at my Garmin. He is in the front of a group of 4-5 men, and they are booking it. It took my brain a few seconds to observe the dreads and the green jersey and recognize them as Tony. A quick yell, a fist pump and the group was up and over the next hill and out of sight.

The final aid station had an adorable black lab/pit mix puppy that I spent time cuddling and giving kisses too in order to procrastinate getting back on my bike. I had ridden this entire time solo and was surprised that mentally I was doing ok. I always worry about diving down into a deep pit of mental despair that could end the whole thing. Sometimes the mental aspect is the toughest.

The final stretch of trail follows some amazingly wooded single track before heading into a valley and starting the final climb up to the (ski) resort. This trail is made up of only 4% single track, and it’s all right at the very end. Unfortunately I was exhausted and on the verge of cramping. It was definitely the most fun part of the course but I was close to red-lining the entire 2 miles of it. Single track requires a lot more anaerobic effort then the previous 66 miles had and I was definitely feeling it. The last corner is sharp and opens out to a wide dirt road that winds down to the valley. The last corner also has a very rutted out tree root on the inside curve. I came up to the corner quite fast, took a bad inside line and caught my tire on this root and went down hard on my right side. I thank my freshman college Judo training for teaching my how to fall. My hand and arm went out to the side but not down to the ground and I landed on the outside of my entire right arm with my head protected. Unfortunately, I also landed right on a rock that dug into my upper thigh and weirdly on a pair of sunglasses that made a loud crack on impact. Luckily, not the sounds of my bones or my own sunglasses breaking! I lay kind of stunned for a second thinking, ‘of course I would fall in the last few miles of this race!’, Again, luckily, I did not get run over by another rider or cause a major pile up. Both of those scenarios were plausible in that area. I was able to get back up and continue, after a quick pause and some adrenaline fueled tears, but no major issues on human or bike.

The last half mile ascends from the valley up to the ski resort and climbs 250 ft in the last quarter mile. I didn’t have it in me. In the initial ascent I had to hop off my bike and it was there that I cramped for the very first time. My whole left quad seized up in a painful muscle spasm. I frantically stretched out my calf, willing the the cramp to stop and then pushed my bike uphill for the next 50 ft or so until it evened out. Here I was able to get back on my bike and slowly make my way up toward the finish. The finish shoot sat at a right angle to the last hill, which was a terrible grade of steep. The crowd spans each side of the trail and is also above you. There is a metal bridge that crosses this ravine area, and spectators are lined along the edge cheering loudly. I can see Tony and Monica out of the corner of my eye and hear Tony over the volume of the crowd. I had to stand up in my pedals to try to get up the last couple feet, my back tire spinning in the dirt and just as I am doing that a woman from the 100 mile race comes up behind me and wedges herself to my inside, in a space that is maybe 1 foot wide on a 90 degree turn into the shoot ((pictured below)). This effectively kills the last tiny amount of will power I have to get up this hill, causing me to jump off my bike. I resigned myself to walking my bike up past the finish line because it took every last ounce of energy I had left.

In the pictures I look as though I’m going to pass out. For reals. Go look at them. I die laughing everytime I see them. It was a very anticlimactic finish. I kind of stood there stunned like “ok, what now? Can I stop?”  Tony and Monica were there to greet me with warm hugs, and ‘way to go’s’ (as well as some actual physical support!) Keep in mind. Tony has been done with his 100 mile distance, now for over an hour!

I rest briefly, then head back to the room to drop my bike off and rinse the mud off quickly. I dont want to miss Matt’s finish.

We spend a few hours waiting for him to come through. This wasn’t unusual. He wasn’t feeling as confident in his ability to finish 100 miles but still wanted to give it a go. So we were expecting a longer ride. In the meantime some of the other riders of Team F@!k yea came through. So much cheering, and hugs and congratulations as the muddy team members crossed the finish line. Our family friends Joe and Cheryl were also at the race. Cheryl had completed the 39er earlier in the day. So we chatted and caught up a bit while I waited anxiously for Matt. I gathered tidbits of information from the trail from our friends finishing. We pieced together that he had been having some cramping issues and maybe even a tire issue early in the race. Still anxiously we waited. Matt is stubborn. I knew he’d be out there until he was done, physically couldn’t finish or didn’t make a time cut off.

Finally a text came through.
“I got pulled at mile 82. On my way back in a truck”

He indeed had dealt with some severe cramping and tire pressure issues. He barely missed a time cut off at mile 82. He was dirty and sore when he got back to the hotel but still in good spirits. 82 miles is a long way. I have no doubts of his ability to finish if time wasn’t a factor.

I finished approximately 70 miles in 7 hours and 6 minutes (which was just about at my goal that I didn’t tell you I had!) I am super proud of our efforts in this race. We struggled with motivation and fatigue a lot in the weeks leading up to it. Ultimately I am glad I dropped down to the 69er. It allowed me to still test myself (LONGEST RIDE YET) and still end on a positive note. Sometimes you need to set yourself up for success for the greater good of your own motivation.  We chalk the cramping, at least in part, to our whirlwind drive up from North Carolina. I mean that seems like the logical explanation anyway, right?

Ultimately this was an awesome weekend of sufferfest and ‘try hard’ with some of our favorite people. We were excited to get home and set some new goals. We’d like to get back into making active movement a habit instead of the obligation and chore it has seemed to be come of late. We are making some small steps, little by little!

The only physical goal I have on the calendar right now is the BikeMS century ride in September to continue my #Yearofthebike. Follow link below to help support our BikeMS Team Normalize Compassion!

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/Bike/NCTBikeEvents?px=16371644&pg=personal&fr_id=29934