You Know That Feeling...

Everything is about to change and get more intense and amazing, you know, that feeling. Do you know what I'm talking about? Even when you cash in on the single life, step away from the job with 3 days off midweek, those days spent biking the east mountains of New Mexico or the San Juan ranges in southern Colorado. There were perfect powder days in Taos, Santa Fe, Crested Butte and so on. Yup, those days are cashed in and spent forever in the memories. You now have a family and that is forever gone, never to return again. After having those experiences it was time to move home to Minnesota and explore all new adventures in a place all too familiar. Back to the old job in the city I'm from, Minneapolis. Minneapolis is a beautiful place where everything is accessible by bike. Lots of trail and micro beers, too! Ride to and from work, to the grocery store, long rides to the burbs, and all around park exploration. Sure, I'm not in the mountains any more, but it sure it good to be home and raising a family where there's great music and stuff to do.

About a month ago I sold off my beloved Niner EMD that was built and tuned all by me, for my first time. I gained an enormous amount of experience putting it together and working and racing on it. That bike was a game changer. However, with a daughter on the way and need for more space I had to give in and let it go. It's material and those things can be replaced. The important thing is that my kids aren't going to start their lives in a modern condo waste of space. These boxes that lay before me will be unpacked in a new home next week. Melinda starts her maternity and maybe our baby girl to be will hold off on being born for at least a couple more weeks. This is the feeling on complete change that feels so good. 

Over the coming winter I plan to work Sundays as a snowboard instructor to gain a little extra cash and it won't really take away from time with my family. The extra cash will be saved for the coming 2013 cycling season and some family travel to Tahoe for some snowboarding. Yes, we're saving for the kids, too. Don't be silly! Melinda wants to take up mountain biking and she's in charge of the budget. She's more than ready to have her body back after giving it up to two kids in the last two years we've been in Minnesota. She barely got any snowboarding done last year.  

Just because you're starting a family doesn't mean sacrifice to what you love outside of that family. You include it. Integrate the two. Melinda and I have had hardly anytime doing what we love with just each other, but can't imagine our lives without our son and our new daughter, due anytime now. 

Our training begins this winter. The trainers on the bikes in the family area of the basement and crossfit stuff in the garage along with the workbench. Other than training rides and just getting out to enjoy we don't have to separate home from what we have goals for next year. Melinda would like to complete the Lutsen 99er, but thinking more the 39er course. She'd also like to do another marathon and some off road trail run races. I'd like to get back at the 99er race with a much better time, the Dakota Five-O, some Minnesota series, but ultimately get on the Breck Epic. Sponsorship anyone? I've noticed that a lot of pros are in there mid 30s so there's still hope for me. Right?

The Breck epic appeals to me because I think it's becoming more of an outlet for suffering and achieving. My life is great. Living in Minnesota is great. This family is wonderful and I couldn't ask for a better partner. However, we greatly miss those mountains. I've spent some time in Breckenridge, CO and it touched my heart. Something about old mining towns with high altitudes. We're probably here to stay in Minneapolis for a while, so spending 6 days in these conditions and suffering makes it worth while. 

With all of this stuff there's a cost. We eat organic, sometimes eat out a little too much, and our kids need things. A lot of things. So how can we afford to do this stuff with out having a ton of money? That question does make me lose sleep. Is any of this important? Should we just bag up these ideas and goals and pinch every penny we can? Probably, but then where's the experience to share with your children and perhaps inspire them to do something great. One of those kids may get so inspired that they go pro and win a gold medal or something. Thoughts of that aside it's simply about getting outside. Enjoying life and sharing these experiences and inspiring each other. We don't buy a lot of things that we don't need. We don't even own a television. No cable here! Simple and humble is how we like it and it's how we're going to save for the future. There will be some improvements in our pay and things we can budget better. You don't have to be a rich kid to have fun. We're far from that, trust me. Some things are just more important than the latest expensive electronic gadget or going out to eat all of the time. That inspiration to each other in our family is what's important. 

Melinda's ability to pick up and leave Albuquerque with me, get through two pregnancies, run a marathon and just be a great parent has inspired me greatly. Just us being parents takes more endurance than any long distance anything. Just having the ability to hammer out this blog is pretty amazing with all that is going on. I've got some cleaning and packing to do. I'm sure Oliver will be up with a vengeance for some power playing soon. I wish I had a quarter of that kid's energy. 

So a lot is about to change again and it's going to be more awesome. 

A note on the bikes, since this is partially a blog about bikes and that sort of thing... 

Melinda will be most likely on a Salsa Spearfish now that it comes in extra small. We also have our eye on the new Niner Jet 9 carbon for her, too. Also available in XS. We had her set on a Niner EMD since that was the best 29er available in her size, but things have changed now that Salsa opened the flood gates to new sizing geometry in 29ers. I rode a 2013 Spearfish at a Salsa demo a week ago and loved it, but I still have love for the Niner bikes. I'm tossing ideas of a Salsa El Mariach Ti for the single speed availability. The Salsa Spearfish 1 stays on my sort list. I like the stiff rear triangle and low maintaining of the single pivot. The Niner Air 9 RDO because it's light and mega fast. Not to mention I love riding fully rigid. Finally on that list is the Jet 9, because I rode one last summer and felt indestructible. Pretty sure any of those bikes will get the job done. I have all winter to contemplate that debate. For sure I'm already planning to purchase the Surly Krampus for the fun fall/winter bike for next year. That's not even available yet. I'll be writing reviews as time allows and when I get test rides.

For now we're looking forward to some home improvements, grill outs, gardening and time with our children. Life is good and getting better.

The Lutsen 99er and the Curse of Endurance Addiction (a race report of a newbe)

So, here I sit in a quiet house, wearing my Twin Six bibs, digesting tacos and yogurt, hoping to get some miles on the single speed CX bike, on this beautiful day. Since my last entry I did all that I said would happen. My very first endurance race of 99 miles (what turned into 104er). I'll get to what turned it into more than the 99 miler. Since then I've become more addicted to the thought of pedaling through the suffer and making it to the finish line.

Race reportish thing:

For training I hardly put in nearly enough miles. The weather would always crap on me or I'd end up with some mechanical. One day, climbing the hills of Duluth I had the worst of mechanical problems. Nothing I did would fix my situation. Of course I fix the problem when I returned to Minneapolis. Every other time I'd venture out on a training ride I'd run into bad weather. Before I knew it it was race day. That day almost didn't happen. 

There was a week of non stop rain in the Minnesota Arrowhead. From Duluth to Grand Marais was underwater. I'd booked a hotel room and couldn't get through to cancel in Grand Marais. All the lines and internet was out. We were only a day from race day. The race director hadn't posted any cancelations, so I moved to send him an email about the situation. Turns out the race was on. They only had to reroute a portion of the course to loop twice. That loop was to be the worst 2 hours of my life. 

Upon arrival on that Friday evening I was registering very last minute. Not the last to register though, I'm sure. I was 304 and I'm pretty sure the 99er crowd ended up over 350. After registration the only thing on my mind was getting rest, proper nutrition and feeding my family. We were on a tight budget, so we brought food. Needless to say, I wasn't getting a huge carbo-meal, nor enough rest. It happened to be the same week as the big piercing conference in Las Vegas and I held down the fort while the boys ran off to learn some piercing knowledge and buy some beautiful jewels for the shop. So, I clocked in several hours of work and hardly any miles on the bike that week.

After 4-5 hours of rest I was up at 6:00am loading up my goodies and putting on the chamois cream. I had a little miso/garlic broth, two bananas, 2 heaping spoons full of coconut oil and a joint health emergen-C for breakfast. On the car ride down to Lutsen mountains I had a probar. I was good to go. After checking the shifting, air and brakes it was time to get to the finish line. My first thought, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING!? I'm on a rigid 1x9 geared Niner EMD, with one older tire (far from pro) surrounded by pro athletes and I haven't been able to train much. Before I knew it, hundreds of us were zooming down to highway 61 north and heading up a 5-1/2 mile climb to our muddy doom.

At the top of our cat 3 ascent, we turned on to our first off road section of XC ski/snowmobile trail. Most of the course was to be this, dirt road, jeep trail, very muddy and rocky gnar and a little bit of greasy single track. For the first 15 miles I kept up with the very best of them and carried up to the top of steep, rocky climb ahead of most of the racers. As we turned on to the gravel and I though I was about to haul ass, I discovered I was getting a flat on my rear tire. I figured I could pump enough air in from the pump in my bag to get a seal. No avail. Sealant and water were just spraying out of a puncture I had located on the tire. A few racers stopped to give me a hand, one with a Co2 pump blasted my tire up to a high pressure and we just watched the sealant blow out. I thanked the great people who attempted my rescue and proceeded to get a tube installed in record time. Unfortunately I wasn't carrying Co2 for some stupid reason. My little dumb pump got my tire up to a 15 psi and I was off. Another racer stopped to use my pump, who also got a flat early on. After that I was off, only to find trouble with the control of my rear tire.

After another attempt I pumping I figured I had wasted too much time and made some poor decisions and should get a move on. All alone. From the start of the race I wasn't alone. I had to be with the top 10 riders. Everyone of them so positive that it was going to fuel me through the next 84 miles ahead. Nope alone. Just how I ride most days anyway. I carried on through the gravel to find a cut off with arrows leading me to some nice, wet rock in the trees. I was hauling ass through this section. Low tire pressure works well in this terrain. After a few miles I felt a little odd. I hadn't seen anybody for some time. I knew I wasn't in dead last. There was no way. There should have been tire tread around me in the mud. Oh bother, Whinny the Pooh would say in this situation. I was starting to feel like Eeyor. There was a lot of doubt about finishing at this point. Doing the only thing I could do was to turn around, carry my ass up the hills I just bombed down, in the wet, muddy rocks and hope I make it to the aid station for air.

Once I traveled back on the course I noticed that I followed the arrows painted on the ground, but the flags were pointing the other direction. Those flags were knocked over. There should have been a marshall to direct racers at this point. Angry, I turned down the once grassy path, completely destroyed and turned into a mud pit. Here I think the low pressure saved me. Eventually I made it back on the gravel and to the first stop at the aid station. Freewheel bike mechanics greeted me with a tire pump, blasted the pressure up to sealing my tire once again. I ate a bite of a pro bar, refilled my water and I was off to my first lap of two in this section. Here I got word that other racers fell further off course and just arrived after me. They were about to do the 109er.

After keeping up with this group for several miles, I decided to just take it easy and cruise through the rest of the race. There was no way I was going to gain the energy to catch up at all. I wanted to finish in eight hours, but at this point there was no chance. Two hours of time wasted from a flat fix, riding low pressure, falling off course and having a few mechanicals with my chain that my jump stop wasn't preventing. Well, here goes a long ass bike ride I thought.

Every time I passed spectators I got filled with positive energy. It was better feeling than any ounce of water (which the aid station ran out of on my second lap), GU gel or any bar could fill. Even the racers that were passing me on their second lap were cheering me on. This kept you on the bike. If you didn't hear these words and you were in my shoes, you'd be calling for a ride back to Sven and Ole's to eat your weight in pizza and cry in your beer.

I found myself passing others in the race after mile 60. I rode with them, cheered them on and pushed harder. When arriving to another aid station, I stopped for just a quick water fill and some tablets and rode on. All I could think of at this point is Melinda and Oliver waiting for me at the finish. Oh, did I mention I didn't pack my phone? Melinda had in mind that I'd be done with this thing in 7-8 hours. I hit that 8 hour mark at mile 85.

Hammering on in the last 15 miles I had been hanging with a group of riders that also fell victim to the mislabeling of the fork in the road. However, I needed that hug and kiss. Melinda needed to know that I was okay and that I was going to finish. When I saw two little girls cheering me on I got severely choked up. Melinda had been pregnant with our second child, which I just found out was going to be a girl. As the tears of joy welled I hammered on the pedals harder. The brake rotors were making a strange noise, mud had filled my shoes, but I needed to ride faster while I was on the gravel.

Meeting a lot of nice people as I passed them I felt like we were all in this together. We were all going to get out of it together. I met a local from Grand Marais, Chad Byers, we kept a great pace together and shared some stories. It was really cool, the energy you got from everyone. It made for a great experience. Letting Chad pass on once we made it to a very technical slick section of trail, I went in to demolish this trail mode. Nothing would stop me. This nasty, rooty, rocky single track is what I thrive on. Until I got to a beautiful rapid river crossing. Again I got emotional. Damn the last 92 miles for making me crazy! After I shook out of that daze I carried on through the rest of the nasty single track.

Getting to a sweet downhill section as I entered back to the realm of the chair lifts at Lutsen, I heard people say, YOU'RE RIDING RIDGID!? GO GET IT! On to the last climb. I met a fellow who was hiking his bike up and he wasn't looking too well. Stopping to help him was the only logical thing to do. He told me that he was fine. I offered food, water, electro tablets, but he didn't want my help. His wife came down to his rescue, who was racing with him. So, I hopped back on and ground my knees to a pulp in the last few miles of climbing.

Before I was anywhere near done with the climb, I heard the loud cheer of the people at the finish. Pedaling faster, off the saddle and my fist in the air I knew I had finally made it. Only 2 hours off my goal time, Melinda and Oliver greeted me. I've only felt this happy once in my life. That was on March 21st, the year prior.

Next year Melinda wants to ride the 39er portion of the 99er. My goal is to stomp it out in 7 hours or less. I'm hoping in just about 6 hours. I can learn from my mistakes. Training for it has already begun. Towards the end of next Summer, I'd also like to complete the Breck Epic. 6 days of stage racing.

Now, we're about to have Ella. Two kids. That's the biggest endurance challenge there is.

To more adventures.