The Ride Life

The Gravity 12 Hour is a highly regarded event in our region and needless to say, this side of the country. I first did it probably 6 years ago (a rough guess!) in a team of 4 and loved every minute of it. That was actually my first race come to think of it. It’s normally run in November at Rosewhite but the event was called off towards the end of last year due to issues with the venue. This turned out to be quite fortunate for me – I couldn’t make it in November due to a date clash with close friends wedding, so I was almost literally rubbing my hands together when it was postponed. It was pushed back into February, to be run in the heart of Bright and I’d decided this was it, my first 12 hour solo.

It took me a while to hand over the money and sign myself up. I can’t really remember why I was delaying my entry, having already signed up for the Kona (Otway) Odyssey which is only 2 weekends after, I think I was waiting to see how I felt closer to the event. This is partly because I was a little nervous and it gave me an out if I got scared or if the weather got ugly. For a little extra money I could enter on the day, so leaving it late wasn’t an issue.

 

The Lead-up

The lead-up to the 2012 Gravity 12 Hour saw me come off some solid months on the bike. I’d put in an average of 37 hours per month for the 3 months prior, mostly thinking ahead to the 100km Kona Otway Odyseey and the 100km Capital Punishment I’d already signed myself up for.

The Otway Odyssey is renowned for being a tough son of a bitch with all its climbing and in the spirit of climbing in the last three months I’d also put myself through 3 Alpine climbs: Falls Creek, Buffalo and then a ride up Falls Creek twice in one day, clocking up 2400m in just 90km over 4 hours! I’d also done a couple of ridiculous road rides around my 190km Farmer’s Daughter loop – just to teach myself a thing or two about hydration, or lack there of!

Aside from good solid riding, the month or so prior to Gravity though I’d moved my focus back to interval training sessions, rather than “just riding”. These sessions really make every second count – doing four 1.5hr sessions a week (varied between VO2, threshold and recovery sessions) and then to satisfy my craving for endurance I’d also been doing a long mountain bike ride of a Sunday, 3.5-4 hours. Nothing intense, just good solid time on the bike.

One way or another I had done a hell of a lot of riding, but was I ready for my first 12 hour? I guess I was about to find out!

 

Getting Not-so-ready

In keeping with my normal style I’d left my preparation to the last minute. So Friday arrives, the night before the race and I’m converting the wheels of the Epic to tubeless with the Specialized 2Bliss plus replacing the derailleur cables on the Scott. Leaving that until the night before the race. Smart, eh? Not really and it really kinda stressed me out so I’m vowing never to do that again. Anyway, battled through and I had everything packed and ready by 10.30pm, and had eaten, showered and was in bed by 11pm.

“Now, what time do I need to set my alarm for? Brett’s picking me up at 5.15am to leave here at 5.30am to be in Bright by 7.00am – guess I’ll need to be up at 4.45am. Oh well, what can I do? I thought, it is what it is. I’ll just lay here and drift off to sleep any minute now. Or now. Or now.” Yep, getting bloody tired now. My heart is racing. The large glass of muscat and panadol I took haven’t really calmed me down. I’m jumping out of my skin. Finally I drift off just before midnight. My body clock wakes me up at 4.30am. Wow, this is great. I’m well rested and ready to rip the cranks off the bike. Actually I was tired as hell and would have loved another couple of hours.

Why did the race need to start at 8am? Traditionally it started at 9am. Oh well!

 

The Gravity of the Situation? Boom tish!

In the last year I’ve done three 6 hours and knew what it felt like to get deep inside the box, it’s really quite roomy in there! So I knew what getting to the half way mark would be like worst-case scenario.

My plan had been to cruise around as slow as I could. As race day arrived I’d convinced myself I can average about 80% MHR and hardly break a sweat. I figured that’d get me home okay, maybe. I have to admit without any expectations I was pretty relaxed. I knew I’d finish – out of stubbornness if nothing else.

What cracked me up, and hence the bad pun, was my mate Scotty who kept saying “12 hours eh? Jeez. 12 hours!” to himself as we were waiting for the start. “Nice mantra!” I thought. I didn’t have a mantra, I thought I’d dropped $90 just so I could have 100 friends ride around with me for 12 hours.

 

It’s About Race Time

Bear with me now as I change the tone here…

 

The First Lap

So we’re waiting for the Le Mans start. Man, I hate these things. I thought running was for people who couldn’t afford a bike? Woah, we’re away. People going everywhere, I can’t run to save myself. Hey there goes someone’s pump, shit, imagine losing your pump off the start! Okay, I’ve just jinxed myself and now I’m holding my pockets trying to keep everything in there. Lip balm, gel, CO2 canisters and energy gel chews in my cup – check! Woah, nearly tripping over as we reach the bikes, people going everywhere!

Traffic is clearing a bit. There’s Brett! He rolls the Epic out and I take it by the bars on the left hand side. I start running with the bike and jump on as we’re both going forward. I saw that in the DVD “Solo 24″ just recently, best way to get onto a bike is while you’re both moving forward. Worked a treat. It’s on!

A couple of bikes fly past me on the outside as we head to the end of transition. Must be some guys who are racing in a team. I’m not going to fall for the ol’ first lap smashfest, I’m calm. Look down at my Garmin, almost 90%. We hit some singletrack and I’m in a train of about 10 guys. This thing ain’t going anywhere and I’m cruising in behind watching the numbers on the Garmin fall and I just keep saying to myself “12 hours to go, there’s no rush”.

We’re quickly into something more technical. A strange little section riding up and down, weaving left and right. This sets the scene for a while, WOAH! SOME GUY JUST WENT OVER THE BARS! Holy shit I’m glad that’s not me. “The muppets are out in full force” I think as another guy bobbles on a rise and we all concertina up the back of him. We make our way around him and then whoosh down a steep embankment with a right hander and now we’re heading straight across the end of the paddock and under a bridge. Shit, can’t see a thing, it’s so dark under here! As we come out the other side there’s a little climb and the guy in front of me takes the long way around the corner so I hit the steeper section and make the pass. “One down” I think.

Over the pedestrian path of the bridge and into singletrack again. Shit, rocky up and down crap as we weave left and right. No wait, back onto fire road. More guys whizzing past, I cruise past a couple of slower guys who look they’ve already hit the wall. The fast guys are racing in teams, right? I’m already thinking it’s time to eat and drink. Energy gel chew down the hatchet. Sweet, over a little suspension footbridge…hell it’s skinny, eeee my bars are wide and over the other side. That was fun!

Back onto fireroad and I see a sign “K2″. What? BAM! Right turn and up the sharpest pinch known to man. Gotta be 30%, okay maybe 25%. Punch it out and hit the top as the track opens onto some dirt road. Hambo goes past me on my left, I try not to worry about him. This section feels quick, starts heading downhill and we’re ripping along at more than 30km/h. Forget that, we hit a slight bend and what goes down must come up. Clicking up the gears and there are a stream of riders ahead of me up the climb including Hambo. He’s still in sight but I think this might be the last time I see him on this lap. Spinning spinning, overtaking a few guys on the way up and feeling comfortable, 88% at the top. Not too shabby, my hill climbing sessions must have done something positive for me.

We drop down into pine forest and I make up serious ground. Single track again and I’m only one rider behind Hambo, the worm is slowing up. This section is cold and damp, little slippery root across the track and my back and bounces across into the turn. Shit, that was close – better remember that’s there. This section is already fun but we’re climbing again. A little pinch, out of the saddle to grind myself to the top. “Sit down you dickhead” I think, “getting out of the saddle is no way to race a 12 hour”. I lose traction and my left knee plummets into the back of the fork leg. EXPLETIVE out loud. That hurt! Man, I’m gonna pay for that. I look down and there’s no mark or any blood. I guess I’m lucky it hit muscle and not bone.

A bit more climbing along a short stretch of fireroad and I’m right next to Hambo. We speak briefly about something and I realise that my chain has jumped off the lower jockey wheel. Sonnova, I quickly dismount and put the chain back on. I’m not sure this derailleur is going to last for 12 hours. Frrrrrrack, not off to a good start. Feeling really paranoid, not liking the thought I might be riding the Scott for the rest of the race. Back on the bike, only lost a few seconds and I punch it through a few bends so I’m back onto Hambo’s wheel. We’re moving well through the track and crossing back over the tarmac road we not long crossed. I can see riders plowing up a crazy steep section of fireroad. Crap! Not more climbing…

We bomb down to the foot of the climb and I realise this fire road pinch is serious granny gear time. I’m not scared to throw my granny down already, I’d already learned my lesson after smacking my left thigh. Spinning like a mad man and the fire road flattens out. Reprieve. Drinking some more and we start descending before dropping back into some singletrack. Sneaking through some trees, loving this section they’ve called “The Gully” already. Next thing we’re bombing back down some fire road. Haha yeah, another suspension bridge! Hard right in a turn I’ll never get around gracefully all day, it’s tighter than it looks. Up and down, left and right, up down, up down, UP a pinch and down to the right. Hambo is behind me now but I don’t remember when I passed him.

I can see riders whizzing past in the opposite direction. Track must come back on itself, I hope they’re not too far ahead of me. Stopping to put that chain back on for the third time. One or two go past me as I’m bent over and ask if I’m okay, “yep, just a short term solution to a long term problem” I say! We’re in some grassy section, more weaving singletrack – don’t they know what straight means in this part of the world? A bit of undulation and more ducking and weaving. I come around the bend and see the rider in front of me disappear completely. Approaching with caution, wow, this must be the whoopty-doo that Bruce was telling me about. It’s like a rollercoaster, whoosh and convex berm turn to the right and whoosh up again, track heads back down and around to the right to climb up out of the gully we’re in. Holy crap, that was insane! Loved it but thinking it could be a real bastard in 12 hours time.

Must be getting close to transition. I can see the creek and what looks like the section we started in. She’s fast open path and the 29er is howling along the bitumen. Rocketing along now, tyres humming on the 29er – sounds like a big 4WD on the bitument. We turn onto the road and left over a bridge that’s bunted off from the traffic. This course has some grouse features, I’m smiling like a dickhead, what a great finish to the loop. “30″ the guy with the headset on says as I come past the checkpoint. “Dirty 30!” I tell him.

As a solo rider I’m allowed to ride straight through transition. Brett’s waiting on the edge near the tent and I skittle my bottle along the ground into our tent and snatch the fresh bottle out of his hand. I didn’t even slow down, this is so much fun. I feel like a total pro and a total dickhead at the same time. I saw the look on the faces of some people waiting for their team mates to come in. Sorta like “Was that guy serious?” with their eyes wide open and an eyebrow raised.

The Garmin beeps and I see 54 minutes on the screen. Sub-hour, awesome. I wanted hour laps.

 

Can’t talk, I’ve got some riding to do!

Second lap is underway and we’re still riding in bunches. The occasional passing manoeuvre is made, passing and getting passed. I’m just trying to find a rhythm here, people everywhere. Looking at the Garmin and I’m sitting at 84%. Going too hard by definition but can’t seem to slow up.

The bunch has broken down to maybe 4 or 5 guys, I look at their numbers and they’re only double digits. Damn, solo riders. Oh well, maybe that’s a good thing, I’m on pace with someone. Stopping to put that chain back on the derailleur. This sucks! Why didn’t I do something about this thing? Oh that’s right, I’d left my prep to the last minute. Half way through the loop and I’m at the front of this pack. Tempo is high and so is my heart rate, c’mon, get down there. 83%.

Must have been mesmerised cos I’m at the end of the lap and effortlessly motoring toward transition, smashing as much drink from my bottle as I can. I’m feeling nearly weightless as I come around the corner and past the checkpoint. I can see Brett waiting on the side of the road. Another bottle skittle and as I grab the next bottle of Torq from him I say “Where’s me food?!”. I’m sure we’d agreed that I was going to eat the whole race and never let myself get hungry. He’s got a confused look on his face, I feel like I snapped his head off and I yell back to him “Next lap, I need food!”. I feel like everyone’s looking at me again. “There goes the superhero” I bet they’re thinking! Oh well, I’m having a blast.

Coasting out of transition for my 3rd lap and the Garmin beeps again. 50 minutes. Boo ya, knocked 4 minutes of my lap somehow. I hit the dirt again and realise I’m finally alone. Thank god, time to ride my own race. I freak out for a second that there’s nobody near me, getting a fear of the unknown for a second – how will I know how fast I’m going? Such a stupid thought. Then I realise finally I can try to get my heart rate down. I look down and I’m still smashing it at 84%…what’s going on?

Tackling the first technical little section again and the Epic is eating up the rocks and roots on the track, I don’t even have to move, I just spin the pedals and make my way through the turns. I’m gaining on guys in front of me and I’m feeling thankful that I have dirt skills. This bike is the best!

Motored around for another lap and all I remember is nothing, I’m starting to go through the motions. Nothing interesting happening now, the course has quietened down a lot now that the fast guys are well and truly gone. I know I got off twice to put the chain back on the derailleur. Rolling back into the pits and Brett has food for me. A piece of fruit cake and another bottle swap, no skittle this time, I knew I had to grab the food and it wasn’t going to work if I just motored straight through. We’ve got about 9 hours to go so spending 10 seconds in the pits seems like a good deal. Brett’s and I are talking about something and I just get on and start riding away saying to him ” I can’t talk, I’ve got some riding to do!”. I’m laughing to myself about being a smart ass and hope he doesn’t think I was being a rude prick.

Bzzz, another lap down. Time is melting away and I’m back in the pits after my 4th lap and Mattunderground is in the pits. I see him and think “Oh no, something must have happened”, but what – flat, mechanical? I pull up and ask him how he’s going expecting a rant about something unexpected and he seems chipper. Then says “4 hours in and this f@#king prick is already lapping me!”. I’m thinking “Oh shit, I dunno what that really means – am I going too hard or something?”. Strange thought. My first 12 hour – am I going to bonk soon?

I’ve noticed a drop off on the back section of fire road. It’s pretty quick down there, should I do it? I can’t not. Hells yeah, doesn’t seem too big, probably won’t stack. Yep, that was fun. Nice!

The Hours are Melting. And so am I come to think of it.

Bzzz, another few laps down and we’re at about 6 hours.

As I’m swapping out my pockets Brett seems super excited. He asks Matt and I  if we want to know what position we’re in. I say “NO!” as quick as anything but then think “Hang on, I need some motivation right now”. I know it has to be good news or he wouldn’t even think of telling us. “Okay, tell me!” I say. I don’t remember what Matt says but Brett responds “You’re in 9th and Matt’s in 15th”. HOLY SHITBALLS, I’m in the top 10? And something like 60th overall. SOOO STOKED!

I’m starting to feel like I’ve been for a ride now. Actually I’m feeling great considering I’ve been on the bike for about 6 hours. My lower back is a tad achey and I’ve got something new, a little niggle on the outside of the back of my left leg. Hmm, maybe I am human after all (HAHA!). I’ve come past Scotty H., Mark C., didn’t expect to see them so soon. Lap times have dropped out to about 52 mins and I make a conscious decision to ride slow…er. But wait, I’m running top 10, I don’t want to slow up. Feeling some pressure now to perform. I just think to myself “oh well, it is what it is and you can only put out what you can put out” so I back it off a notch.

Something isn’t right though. I am smashing my drink bottle, getting about half way around the lap and realise I’m nearly out. I begin to resist the temptation to drink with so far to go on the lap. As I get closer to home I’m drinking but still run out with 5-10 minutes to go. This has happened a couple of times now. I realise how hot it is, especially at the bottom of the course.

The Epic is starting to run a bit rough – brakes are howling on the descents, must be a fair amount of dust in the calipers. The rear derailleur is being an expletive, I’m still stopping once or twice a lap to put the chain back on the bottom jockey wheel. Plus the chain is feeling dry and grindy, come to think of it it’s pretty much browny/orange with dust.

As I pull into transition I tell Brett I can’t drink enough. I can only fit 1 bottle on the Epic and I didn’t even consider wearing a Camelbak, too bulky and unnecessary on an hour loop. Brett gives me a bottle of water and I smash most of it standing in transition. I tell him I’ll take the Scott next lap and need him to give the Epic the royal treatment (clean, lube and tyre pressures!). Full bottle on the bike as I roll out again.

Bzzz, back in transition again. Another bottle of water gets smashed and I swap out to the Scott Scale 29er pro. Carbon hardtails are an awesome machine. I’m 5 minutes down the road and I’m already wishing I wasn’t riding it. As much as I love the bike I can’t just plow over the random crap on the single track cos it’s killing my ass and lower back. Towards the end of this lap all I’m thinking is that I want off this bike ASAP. It’s not slower, it’s just harder on the body! I finish the lap in one piece, phew.

 

Here Comes the Wall

We’re about 8 hours in and the temperature has dropped, which has been a bloody blessing. The need to drink, drink, drink has subsided.

Alright, now my lower back is starting to give me some serious words of discouragement. I need to do more core strength work. I’m feeling like I’m getting a bit crampy every now and then on the inside of my right thigh. Shit, I don’t want to have to deal with a cramp. I’ve think back to coming past Andrew as he was getting cramps in both legs, damn dude! The little climbs are really taking their toll on me and I’m starting to lose some power. Can I finish this thing? I don’t think I want to. What’s the point of this again? Crap, now I’m riding in my head. This is bad.

Here’s my little drop off, flirt with danger and hit it again. Railing it into the “The Gully”. Hehe, okay, that’s the point of this!

I realise I’ve just hit my limit at almost 9 hours. Not a bad hit out really and I’m stretching the lower back every chance I get down some fireroad.  My lap times have pushed out to 57 minutes, between my conscious decision to rider slower, my lack of power and my slightly extended pit stops.

Back into transition and here’s Matt again. How bizarre seeing him in the same place twice! I wonder how much time he’s been spending in transition! I’m not in that much of a rush any more so there’s a bit of banter in transition. Matt’s keen to roll out with me on this lap and makes a comment about wanting to try and stick me on this lap. I think “Awesome, I’m going to have some company!”

Brett gives me an update on my position and I’ve moved up to 7th place. I simply cannot believe that.

So Matt and I head out for another lap. We’re 5 minutes down the road and Matt says he needs to slow up or he’s gonna blow. I tell him no worries and that I’ll slow up a bit. I  back it off, or so I thought but another minute passes and he’s bailing. I tell him I’ll catch up with him later, it was nice to ride along with someone!

A few k’s into the loop and I’m back at the infamous K2 climb. It’s not really a climb per se, it’s about a 10 metre run, a little pinch, where you go from beside the creek up to the fireroad. I go up the gears in preparation for the climb and spin my way up. Yep, definitely no out of the saddle punishment for me. I get to the top and I feel a bit light headed. Wow, never had that before.

Back to riding inside my head. The climbs seem really long all of a sudden. I realise that I’ve actually only got 3 laps left. Actually the last lap is what I consider the “Lap of Honour”. And it’ll be a nightlap. So I’m calling it 2 laps to go and then the Lap of Honour! Every obstacle I’m telling myself “only have to hit that 3 more times”.

As I’m coming along the fireroad, these young kids (16 years old maybe?), two guys and a girl are riding along with me. They start talking to me and tell me I’m doing great, think doing it solo is a huge effort! They’ve really lifted my spirits and even though they just outdid me to the top of the climb before the pine forest they stop and let me go in front cos they don’t want to hold me up. I tell them “See ya on the next climb then!” and away I go. That was a nice experience.

Ten minutes to go on my second last lap and I pull out my strawberry Winners energy gel. That’s right, I’ve saved this sucker for the very end. Maybe I should have had one or two earlier when I thought I was hitting the wall? Maybe next time, eh?!

I feel pretty knackered as I pull into the transition to put on my night helmet. It’s my old helmet rigged with my cheap ass Chinese light, battery ready to throw into my back pocket. Little seat-post mounted tail light for the rear. I don’t muck around, might have been in the pits  the sooner I leave the sooner I get back I think. It’s about 11:20 hours so I’m definitely on my last lap. Lap times are a bit over an hour now.

Like the last couple of laps I’m back to feeling woozy at the top of K2, if only it was from the air being so thin. Oh wait, it’s not really a mountain!

Boo ya, I can almost literally feel the boost I get from the gel kick in. All of a sudden I’m starting to push again in sections I had nothing in for the last few hours. That or I’m getting a mental boost from being on my Lap of Honour. Knowing full well I don’t have to go out again is a great feeling.

My drop off again. Even though it’s my last lap, rather than go the safe route I am literally envisaging myself changing my line washing out. I haven’t taken that line since the 3rd lap. Oh well, I’ll just go down the little drop off again. Fucking boo ya! Yep, worth it.

Into the last section, the tight and twisty, grassy stuff. I’m ripping it, or I feel like I am anyway. Nothing can stop me now. I flick my headlight on with a few minutes to go, it hasn’t been that dark and I haven’t needed it really but I switch it on anyway just in case someone has an issue with it being off as I come into transition. Better switch on the tail light too.

 

So, that’s it?

Coming into transition to call this thing done. And I pull up to Brett at our tent. I’m feeling somehow really emotional and take a couple of deep breaths trying to hold myself back from tears of joy. Don’t ask me why cos I can’t explain it but just got completely overwhelmed with this feeling of “shit yeah!” Was it because I just smashed a huge milestone? Cos I didn’t think I was going to get the job done there at one point? Or just because I’d pushed my body beyond the comfort zone for so long? I haven’t really figured out the reason but it quickly subsided and I gained some composure.

I get off the bike and I’m a little stumbley. I’m not that bad, but walking is kinda weird after just pedaling and pedaling. I sit down and start talking to Brett for a minute then start stripping off, chasing a shower.

Is that it? That was 12 hours. To be honest, even though I hit the wall at 8 or 9 hours and I did have a couple of moments of doubt I pretty much smashed that. I went through the same motions as I have done previously at the 6 hour races. So what’s a 24 hour solo going to be like? I’m ready to find out.

 

Sooo Thankful!

100 times over, thanks to my brother Brett for being the best pit-bitch I’ve ever had. He did everything I wanted and was there waiting for me in transition every single lap without fail. He gave me his undivided attention and that was worth more to me on the day than the chamois cream on my ass.

Thanks to Matt and Bruce for being kind enough to give us some space in their transition tent. And I promise not to embarrass Matt any further by telling you the story of how he almost fainted in the chicken shop – cos I wasn’t in there at the time and didn’t see it happen. Haha.

 

The Numbers?

According to the upload from the Garmin to Strava – see activity here.

• Total distance: 181.2km
• Total elevation gain: 2104m
• Total time elapsed: 12:49:56 hours
• Total time resting: 42:44 minutes
• Average speed: 14.1km/h
• Average Heart Rate: 157bpm (76%)
• Stokedness: Soooo Stoked!