TUMBLING CREEK MTB RUMBLE XIII - A Different Perspective

As racers, we are often times selfish. We are concerned with how we feel, what we eat, what we ride, what we need, and how we perform. Preparation and racing becomes more of a routine or habit, than an enjoyable experience. We converse with one another before and after, but we are ultimately consumed with our own experience. We set expectations and no matter what else happens, we feel defeated when those expectations aren’t met. We are guilty of taking ourselves entirely too seriously. Out of want, obligation, and curiosity, I stepped aside this past weekend and took a look at racing from a completely different perspective.

Gainesville College was the site for the Tumbling Creek MTB Rumble. The course is primarily flat with small rollers. The single track is nothing too technical and other than a few turns, very fast. The actual trail is only five miles long, so the field transition area and some of the walk-jog paths were utilized to bring the course length to around seven miles in length. Recent rains had left portions of the additional sections very wet and SLOW. The field and the paths would prove to be the true leg burners, evident by the looks on rider’s faces as the trudged through the field.

As I said before, I was looking at this race from a completely different perspective. I voluntarily relegated myself to “Pit Boss” for this race to accommodate the rest of the team. I fudged on the decision several times late in the week. The need to race was burning, but I’d made a commitment, more to myself than anything, to support the team, and that’s what I intended to do.

The lemans start was the longest I’ve seen. The racers were forced to run down and around the lake before grabbing their bikes. The run was easily half a mile and to add insult to injury, once the racers were on their bikes they had to traverse the field. Ten minutes in and faces were red, folks were coughing, and some were already walking. I think I saw one guy puke. It was extremely entertaining to watch!

Unbelievably, Bill had the best run of our group. (That’s right . . . BILL RIDDLE.) He was in the top third as he grabbed his bike. One by one the riders grabbed, mounted, and pedaled away. Within minutes the pit area was somewhat quiet. I took a minute to grab some CAFÉ:INE and organize the pit for the chaos to follow.

Since I had given up the opportunity to suffer on the bike, I accepted the opportunity to dump 100% of my effort into supporting the team. If I couldn’t participate as a racer, I’d participate in support. After thirty-five minutes riders started entering the pits. The next several hours went like this; hand off bottle, hand out gel, wash bottle, clean derailleur, clean chain, fill bottle, run across field, check times, organize gear, clean glasses, mix electrolytes, adjust seat, tighten grips, unwrap energy bars, convince riders to eat and drink, give time alerts, block solo riders from sitting down, encourage fellow racers as they pass by, snap a few pictures, check on Cadence . . . . . and repeat.

As pit boss you have to be able to recognize the difference between pain and discomfort and know when to concede, encourage, or demand. Some riders need a break while others just want one. The less time spent in the pit equals more time on the bike. More time on the bike equals better results. Better results equal a happy racer, regardless of the pain.

As the race wound down, Suzy then Wooley had punished themselves enough and I allowed them to call it quits (ok . . . basically they decided to quit and my Jedi mind tricks weren’t working any longer). Cramp-monkeys had latched on and weren’t letting go of either of them any time soon.

Bill was in contention for a podium spot and I wasn’t going to allow him to even look at the pit. I was shoving food and drink at him quicker than he could think or react. Before he knew it, I was pushing him off back onto the trail. He finished the day 2nd in his class.

Tiffanie, participating in her first ever MTB event (6hr solo no less), had apparently made it through the “pain cave” and was determined to exceed all expectations. She came through after lap five, stopped for a twenty second rest, and was back off. She didn’t even have to be convinced to try another lap. She had found her own motivation. She finished the day 5th in her class.

Gene, after a short mental and physical break, reluctantly picked himself up and began preparation for a seventh lap. Before he could change his mind, I had loaded him up with bottles, got him on his bike, and pushed him off. I vaguely heard him mumble “I don’t wanna go” as he rode away. He completed his seventh lap looking stronger than he had the two previous. He finished the day 17th in his class.

Wade and Lyn didn’t need much encouraging. Working as a team is encouragement enough. Accountability is the biggest difference between the team event and the solo event. Teammates owe it to one another to push hard and continue riding. In the solo event, the only person you affect by quitting is yourself. I helped keep their chains clean and derailleurs straight. They just missed the magical cut-off time to try another lap. They finished the day after completing eight laps.

After the race, we broke down the pits and packed up the trucks. We hung around longer than intended for our much deserved podium pictures. By the time we cleaned up and ate dinner, we had already accepted that it was going to be late-dark-thirty by the time we pulled in our drive way at home. As we drove into the night, I had this strange sense of pleasure blanketing me. The regret of not racing had completely disappeared. I was simply high on the events of the day. It was a cool feeling to know that by sacrificing my own race, I had impacted seven other people’s race. For one day, I tried everything I could to make them feel PRO. I hope it was as beneficial to them as it was fun for me.