This was the third year in a row that I ventured to Michigan to participate in the LJ100. I honestly had not intentions of going back after year two, but a buddy talked me into it. We had all kinds of logistic issues and trouble finding lodging, but we finally got it all taken care of and made it to Manistee.
Saturday morning arrived and as per usual for LJ we were greeted with rain. We woke up at 4:45 and it was just starting to drizzle. As we pulled into the Big M the rain picked up and stayed pretty steady until just a few minutes before race start. Andy and I took our place at the front of the 2nd wave (8-10 hours) and anxiously awaited the start as it began to drizzle again. As the “gun” sounded we took off on our adventure for the day. I had hopes of breaking the 9 hour mark and Andy was in a similar mindset. As we pedaled down the 2 mile stretch of road before dipping into the sandy double track I looked up to see Andy leading us out and thought to myself “what on earth is he doing?” and hoped he wasn’t going to blow up before the single track. I tucked in 10-15 wheels back and rolled along at 20+ mph with relative ease. In the past I had never had the nerve to start that far to the front of the group, but boy does it pay off. As we entered the singletrack I did not have to stop for the bottlenecks and the poor climbers. Don’t get me wrong, I passed a LOT of folks on the climbs, but they were still climbing at a decent pace. Thankfully, the sand holds up well to the rain, because it rained for about the first hour and a half of the race. As I came to the end of the first lap I was at 2:54 and felt really good. Our pit neighbors were some awesome folks and they even helped us with our food, water and bikes. I topped up on everything, smashed down a banana and took off for the next 33 miles. That first lap was awesome! I din’t have to get off my bike once. Even on the climbs I was able to get past people without much trouble. The second lap was a different story, however. Around mile 45 my left knee started to hurt on the back side. It was not too bad on the flats, but screamed at me when I cranked on the climbs. At the back aid station I stopped to stretch and see if that would relieve the pain. It helped for a while, but by mile 55 or so I was having to walk the climbs to keep the pain in check. All I could think about was that I’d never DNF’d a race before….ever. If I could make it back to the pit I could take some ibuprofen and keep going. I crossed the line a few minutes under 6 hours! 9 hours was still a possibility. I stopped in the pits and looked up. The skies were dark, I was wet, my knee and back hurt and it looked like more rain was moving in. Somewhere inside something broke and I decided I didn’t want to push through the pain anymore. As I hosed the sand off myself and my bike and made the trudge over to the timing tent to make it official I felt terrible and relieved all at once. For the first time I was a quitter, but on the other hand I knew I could nurse my knee back to be able to race the next weekend if I bowed out.
Andy and I had our dinner and watched the winners come across the line, which was pretty cool. The neatest experience of the weekend for me was to watch the first female cross the line. She finished in under 8 hours! As the came across she was so fatigued that a teammate had to un-clip her from her bike and help her off. She was excited and exhausted, but the tears that streamed down her face were tears of joy.
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