Westside Dirty Benjamin

“I am doing this!” That was the message I sent to AJ at mile 55, and it became my motivation to finish the hardest bike ride I have ever done. I know I claimed Almanzo 100 to be my hardest ride ever, but Westside Dirty Benjamin easily takes the cake!

To understand why this ride was so challenging, I need to start at mile 0 and with a little background. The Westside Dirty Benjamin (WDB) is a 100 mile, self-supported gravel road race. Self-supported means you are responsible for yourself and you pack it in, you pack it out. You must ride with the necessary items to complete the ride-food, water, tools, whatever you want or think you might need. Luckily, we were allowed to bring a drop bag that would be waiting for us at mile 55 with items to refuel and rehydrate. Knowing this, I tried to pack my bike with just the right amount of food, and only necessary tools to get me through the first half of the race. What I didn’t know about this day is that the majority of the riders would not make it to their drop bags.  The WDB course itself is a mix of mostly gravel, some technical trails, cyclocross terrain, and a little pavement to round it out. Registration for the ride was open to the first 400 people to mail in their postcard over the last few months. When it came to race day, only 189 of the registered riders made it to the starting line. The weather was ominous and rain was inevitable. How bad the weather would get is almost indescribable. 

Team #abeardandababe ready to roll out!

 

We rolled out of the start shortly after 8am. The first 7 miles of the race were on dirt trails and through a wooded area that resembled a minimum maintenance road. I had left AJ almost from the start, as we had to stop and form a single file line to get onto the trail. The trail was overgrown with weeds/grass and had plenty of standing water and mud to boot. The group I was with seemed to be having similar struggles navigating the terrain, and while it was fun to get nice and dirty early on, we were all very curious to see the effects of this on our bikes later in the ride.  We rolled out of the woods and up a giant grassy hill, and onward to our gravel adventure. After the race was over I found out that a large group of people, AJ included, took a wrong turn during this section and added an extra 3+ miles onto their route. 

The next 15 miles or so were good, as I cannot remember much about them. I tried to get a little food in me and find other riders to keep pace with. Things quickly changed around mile 25 when the wind picked up and the rain started. At first the rain was slightly refreshing, but as it picked up in intensity it soon became painful, and I quickly became cold. It felt like little daggers stabbing me as I counter balanced against the crosswind. There were at least two times that I thought my bike was going to be swept out from underneath me. I’ve never been taken down by wind before, and hopefully never will, but it was definitely something that was on my mind. The wind was so brutal that it was actually blowing snot right out of my nose! Ew! With all my energy focused on controlling my bike, it became almost impossible to eat or drink while riding and I desperately needed to refuel. I decided on a PB&J rice cake and only lost a small portion of it to the wind.  

 At mile 36, for the first time that day, I remember questioning my intentions and desire to continue the race. Only problem was I had already passed the bailout point at mile 29. I continued to push on, and did make one brief stop with another rider, Dave (I think), to try and adjust my front brake. I struggled with the mechanics because my hands were so cold that I could not grasp the lever and nut to tighten it properly. Thankfully he was able to get it tightened for me and we were off on our way again. Unfortunately, the adjustment didn’t fix the brake problem and it remained an issue on and off throughout the entire ride. The struggles kept coming as we pushed through. Not only were the wind and rain merciless, but so was the gravel. Easiest way to describe it is organic peanut butter- super soft and squishy and your tires sank right in. It was like riding on sand at the beach, minus the fun and sunshine. Every once in a while there would be a little hard packed gravel to accelerate through, but most of it required pushing through.

By now I was approaching mile 45 and knew my drop bag was awaiting me in 10 miles. Woo! Only 10 miles until I get a break! I caught up to two riders and decided to roll with them into the checkpoint. One of the guys was battling a broken cleat on his shoe and had decided to call it quits when we got there. Talk about adding insult to injury for him! We did have a slight reprieve, as the wind and rain were finally starting to let up and things were getting a little better. At this point I received a text message on my phone, and immediately thought of AJ.  I was hoping he was doing okay through all of this, and I also knew if it was him and something bad had happened, he would have called me. I decided to wait to check the message until I stopped to refuel since we were so close. At mile 50 we came across a huge snapping turtle that no doubt could have popped a tire if it was allowed to strike. I briefly wondered what other creatures I would encounter on this day as I embraced the beauty of the countryside over the next 5 miles.

We rolled into checkpoint and I was so happy to get off of my bike for a little bit. I had cold water, a banana, half of a sandwich, and the rest of my supplies waiting for me. 

Checkpoint arrival J

 

The awesome volunteers were there cooking up hot dogs, re-lubing bike chains, and providing emotional support. There was a cooler of Coke and New Belgium Ranger beer (my favorite) to help ourselves to. The decision to have a beer was a no brainer since there was no way it could hurt me at this point. I was finally able to read AJ’s text message saying “I bailed out at mile 40 and am at the finish. You’re absolutely nuts!!! I’m here for you, call me if you need ANYTHING!!! If you get this please give me a heads up that you’re ok and planning to finish.” I was jealous of the warm car he was sitting in, and was secretly wishing I had bailed out too. It was at this point I took a picture of my beer and sent the message ‘Check point. I’m doing this!!!’

 

Carb loading at its finest!

 

“I’m okay”

 

It was then and there that I decided I was going to finish this race. I figured it couldn’t get any worse than it had already gotten! I slammed my beer, stuffed my food in, picked up Greta (my bike) and was ready to roll. On my way out the volunteers mentioned to me that I was only the second female to make it through, to which I replied “Fuckin’ right!!”

The next portion started out as another singletrack/mud trail through the woods, and I was able to ride most of it. The short sections I had to walk involved many mosquito bites and thick mud. Thankfully, this trail wasn’t very long and I was quickly back to the grind. I spent the next 15 or so miles feeling awesome! Things were going well, I was maintaining a decent pace, and I was making progress! I reached the Luce Line and caught up to a guy I rode into checkpoint with, and had a brief conversation about the mud we just rode through. At this point I could tell my bike was definitely hurting from all the mud, water and sand, but there was nothing I could do about it except continue to pedal. The Luce Line was amazing! It was fast, shaded, protected from the wind, and the gravel was fairly hard packed. At one point, I caught glimpse of a black cat on the side of the trail and thought of my own kitty, Lucy. The cat didn’t actually cross my path, but maybe it was a sign of things to come. I kept pedaling and soon I was 70 miles in. I decided to snack at this point so I could keep my energy up. 

The route eventually led to a paved trail for about a half mile and then at the end of the path ‘BRAAPP’ was written in chalk leading you straight into the tall grass. It was another cyclocross/mud trail and the absolute last thing I wanted to deal with! Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about getting dirty while biking, but this was the first straw that almost broke the camel’s back. This time I was only able to do a few pedal strokes before getting stuck or spinning out in the mud and having to unclip and walk for a portion. When the terrain seemed to improve, I would get back on and try again only to have the same thing happen again and again and again. I remember this is when I started muttering things out loud. I remember saying “this is so stupid” and “are you fucking kidding me????”  This section was less than a mile long, but seemed to take forever to get through. I looked back at one point, and noticed someone else struggling behind me. I felt their pain and I am sure they felt mine too. A slight redemption came after this when we were able to roll along on glorious paved roads for a handful of miles. It felt incredible to comfortably pedal my bike and make progress.

And then the darkness came. Around mile 75 is where things went from bad to worse for me. Everything became a struggle! The gravel was super soft, the headwind was 20-30mph and I was feeling so defeated! I could barely get my speed above 12mph and it seemed I was often going 7mph. For me this is not a fast enough pace. I tried everything I could think of from altering my pedal stroke, shifting my gears, riding a different spot on the road, changing handlebar positions, to eating. NOTHING HELPED!!! I struggled like this for what seemed like an eternity. I remember saying to myself over and over that “something has got to give!” It truly needed to and thankfully, for brief periods on and off, it did. Whether it was harder packed gravel, a short downhill coast or the awesome guy that helped pull me through the wind, there were small patches of light. I remember him telling me that “I was keeping a good pace.” I replied “thank you, but I am really struggling.” I held onto his pull for as long as I could and was so thankful for his help when I could no longer keep up. I watched him get farther and farther away from me until I could no longer see him. 

I remember at many different points not seeing anyone else in front of me and no one behind me. I was all alone! This wasn’t anything new for the race since I rode most of it by myself, but it was the first time I really realized how much I needed someone else for encouragement. AJ had posted earlier on facebook that he took the bailout and that I must have completely lost my mind because I was going to continue and finish the race. With this post came multiple emails that caused my phone to chime. Having no idea what any of the emails said, I took each chime and used it as encouragement from someone to keep going and to stay strong. I thought of my favorite cheerleader, Cara, and her words of encouragement from the previous night, and used them as long as I could. I pictured how hard she would cheer for me if she were here and actually laughed a little to myself because of where my mind was going. Soon the emails and texts were no longer enough to encourage me. The chime of my phone was making me mad and with the madness came more random outbursts. After the fourth or fifth unread text message that came in I recall yelling “Damn it AJ! Stop texting me!” I honestly had no idea if they were even from him. At this point, I was feeling like I would never be done, and I feared it was him asking me how long I would still be. I remember thinking, “he has absolutely no idea what I am going through right now!” Each text felt like more and more pressure to know how I was doing, where I was or if I was okay. I honestly didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. After a few more messages came in, I finally pulled out my phone to see who they were from. They weren’t all from AJ, so then I felt like an asshole for being mad at him. One of the messages from AJ did state he thought my friend Parker had won the singlespeed category. I remember very loudly yelling ‘I don’t give a flying fuck about Parker!!!’ After this outburst, I realized my own personal defeat. It wasn’t anyone’s fault I was struggling-this was still my decision to continue on. I could still call AJ and bail myself out of this mess. Being angry at others wasn’t going to get me to the finish line faster; it was only going to deplete the remaining energy I had. And I was still determined!

I knew I needed to find comfort in the discomfort I was feeling. To do this, I drew upon the strength I have developed from my yoga practice. I reminded myself that my mind will give up much sooner than my body will. I reminded myself that this is temporary and the accomplishment will be worth it. And I was getting closer to the end! I had roughly 12 miles to go and even at my slow pace I would be done in an hour. I had come so far at this point that bailing out wasn’t an option. I thought of the two previous centuries I did and again reminded myself that I signed up for this. I wanted to do this! I was going to do this! I was doing this! I thought of all my family and friends that have supported me during this and provided so many encouraging words that I could not stop now. If I quit I would not only be disappointing myself, but I would have felt like I let others down as well. I wasn’t causing any harm to myself; I was just struggling. 

This mindset was strong for a few more miles and then was tested again. At mile 93 I became borderline hysterical. The road I was riding seemed as if it would never end, and the gravel was extra soft. All I wanted to do was coast down a hill and gain some momentum, but the wind made that impossible. I started to feel panicked and my eyes welled with tears. I was so close, but so far away from being done. I wanted nothing more than to get off my bike, throw it down and stand on the side of the road and weep. This is a terrible feeling that has only happened to me a few other times on my bike. This was how I felt when AJ and I did our Easter ride in which I struggled tremendously, and second guessed signing up for any of the three centuries. I thought about how much harder this has been for me than Almanzo ever seemed. I realized this is the place that no one ever wants to get to. And I knew I needed to somehow get myself out of this dark, dark hole. I started by slowing my pace down even more and with that I was able to slow my breathing. I was so close to being done that it no longer mattered how long it would take me to finish. I told myself to calm down and continued to focus on my breath. Even if it took me another hour, I was going to accomplish this. I decided to distract myself with music and turned on ‘The Heist’ by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis to power me home. ‘Ten thousand hours’ became my final motivation to keep spinning.

The final 7ish miles were all road riding! Thank goodness! I hit the pavement and started pushing the cranks as hard as I could. I was going to finish strong or completely die trying! A few miles from the end the rain started again, and I was sad to see all the mud and dirt wash off of me. I worked really hard to get that dirty, and I was looking forward to having a picture to prove it. Since I wasn’t wearing glasses the rain made it really hard to see and my eyes were stinging. I came barreling into the finish as fast as I could and I could not have been happier to be done! I received congratulations from the race organizers and was told I was 36^th to finish. I felt pretty happy about that and rumor had it that I was the 2^nd or 3^rd female to finish. AJ was there to snap the evidence of my hard work and I’m so happy to have that photo!!

WDB finisher 2014!!!

 

It has taken me a long time to process and decompress from Westside Dirty Benjamin. After the race, I discovered how extreme the weather became while I was riding. Trees were knocked down and wind gusts reached over 60mph at times! No wonder I was almost blown off my bike! I realize now it was probably a little unsafe to be riding in those conditions, but at the time I was lost in the task at hand. WDB was a mental, physical and emotional challenge for me. I am ecstatic to have this ride in the books because I DID IT!!!! This is a huge accomplishment that I am extremely proud of! What I am not proud of is the darkness, struggles and craziness involved in my finish, and the mild case of pink eye I contracted after the race. I wish I could say it will always be the hardest race I have ever done, but there is no way of knowing the biking challenges ahead. Each race comes with unknown risks and benefits, and I feel more prepared to take anything on after finishing WDB. I have become so much stronger through all of my efforts, but it has not been easy to admit my own temporary defeat inside an amazing accomplishment.

The results of the 2014 Westside Dirty Benjamin are in. Of the 189 riders that showed up, there were 88 finishers. I was 36^th overall and placed 2^nd out of 9 females in the women’s open category. My odometer clocked roughly 102 miles with a total race time of 7 hours and 48 minutes and an on bike time of 7 hours 30 minutes. To those who finished-CONGRATS!!! Amazing, awesome, crazy, hard work! To those who bailed: I don’t blame you because that sucked! You made the right decision for you and that is all that matters! After all of this, I can’t say that I am looking forward to riding the Westside Dirty Benjamin in 2015, but I will be there! And I hope Mother Nature will be a little nicer to all of us!