Lewis Morris

Lewis Morris

I had gone on a pre-ride on the Sunday before the race, riding with a large group of people who really knew what they were doing. They basically left me in the dust. Evan was good enough to stick with me though.

I had met Evan earlier in the month and had a chance to ride with him briefly before the skies had opened up on us. He had a self-converted Cannondale single-speed MTB and had been wanting to try a Full Suspension bike so we traded bikes for most of the ride. Evan's bike was slightly smaller than mine and was very easy to handle. Riding with one gear was just fine. I didn't have to choose which gear to get in, didn't grind gears or drop the chain. It was simpler and instantly comfortable and that let me concentrate on just riding and handling the bike while Evan played with the FS bounce and 21 speeds.

Today, we stayed on our own bikes and toured the race course, occasionally running into other people from the big group. It was an enjoyable day, a nice ride. When we finished, we stood in the parking lot and chatted for a while.

Evan was toying with the idea of entering the race the following week, while I was definitely not. I "raced" every Saturday morning on the road chasing the shop team on their A ride. I wouldn't have anything left in me to race in the woods on Sunday, besides, I had just started riding a MTB anyway and racing is for people who are skilled, experienced and fast.

Then we spoke a bit with Jim as he was leaving from the group ride. Jim is unique with his distinct facial hair, ear pegs, tattoos and assorted piercings, all of which belie his mild, kind and generous manner. He asked if we were racing. Evan was unsure about his work schedule and I said emphatically, "No". I had no business racing a bike I couldn't quite handle, in a sport I had just started, on legs that would be surely tired. Jim insisted that I'd have a great time anyway and that I could do it 'even though'.

A suggestion is a dangerous thing. Just like last August when the idea of attempting a century gnawed at my brain for a week until I caved in and did it, so chewed Jim's words, "You can do it." By Friday, I had made my decision.

Sunday morning I woke early, had some eggs and oatmeal(the breakfast of champions, I had heard) suited up and off I went to the park. I registered, paid and rode up a bit on the beginning of the course and back to a bit of the end. Then it was time to line up. This was all new. Though I've always been inwardly competitive, I had never been in an organized race before and no organized sports since Soft Ball in the fourth grade. But training myself over the last year had taught me a few things about pushing myself beyond my limits, so the adrenaline rush was ready to kick in. In the back of my head, I heard words from Chris at the shop who had said, "Find the first or second person off the front of the pack and don't loose them."

We were amassed with my age group in the rear and there were a bunch of people ahead of us. They seemed to separate the men a bit better, but our group included all the beginner children and women. And, they were sending all thirty some of us out at the same time. There was no way of knowing who was who and who I was really racing against. I looked around and noticed lots of skinny people, all skinny people. Some time early in grammar school I got used to being one of the fat people in a crowd and I learned then not to let it set my standard. But when everyone else is fit, it can change your perception a bit. A sigh. Oh, well. I'll catch 'em on the downhills.

The whistle blew and we were off. A rough start in the back of the pack where wobbly riders knocked into each other and into me and nearly threw me off the bike. Then, off again, I found a hole and passed a few riders before heading into the bend down the path and through the stream where I got stuck in a virtual log jam of bikes. Right! Damn, knocked out of it already.

We untangled ourselves and started back into it, well behind the pack. Then we hit the hill. How quickly it stole my breath and burned my legs! I reminded myself that I was in it for the experience, that I didn't have any expectations of myself(though that was clearly a lie) and that it was okay to be worn the day after a 2 hr hammerfest. I ignored the voices of self-doubt and pushed on. I walked tiredly up the hills and got back on where I could. I jockeyed with a 12 yr old for position. I let her pass me on the hills as she was definitely faster there, and when I caught back up, I'd have to sit in behind her and wait for her to yield when she saw a good place to move to the side.

In one tight area, I clipped a tree and stayed upright even though I hit hard enough to snap off my plastic end cap and take a piece of bark in the bar end as a souvenir. I rode over slippery roots that threatened to toss me off the bike. They even troubled my young friend as she slid to the side and hit two trees one on either end of her handlebars. I was close behind and had to break and dab my foot down on a gnarly mass of twisted, exposed, slippery roots. It nearly did me in.

The girl insisted that she was fine and that her bike was undamaged. Fortunately, she was going very slow when she hit the trees, or she'd be hurt for sure. Shortly, the trail turned more downhill and I was off. That's when I started to have a little more fun.

I twisted and turned as the trail did, I climbed more of the inclines and reminded myself that I can sometimes climb better than I think I'm capable of. I seemed to get stronger as the route twisted and became like a roller coaster. I went down one hill that was rippin' fast and if it were on the road, I'd have milked it for everything it was worth. But, in the woods, I have a healthy respect for the trees and for their desire to not be hammered by metal, helmets and flesh. Admittedly, I used the brakes some.

When the trail tossed me onto a wider, open, gravel path, I knew it was close to the end. I took the rest of the speed from the last incline and pumped it up with some more juice to pass a few cheering cyclists on their pre-ride and pushed up past the scoring booth where the last incline snatched a bit of energy back from me.

How did I do?
Fantastic! I came in without a big crash. I finished the race and to my surprise, I managed to come in fourth, nearly 20 minutes ahead of fifth. Not bad for an "old bird".