I think about it all day long

Registration started the other day for the Pisgah 36. I have not, as of this moment in time, registered myself for the event. This is the third year for this event formally known as The Most Horrible Thing Ever. I would not be lying if I said that I am thinking I'm in and then thinking I'm out at least once or twice an hour. Why so indecisive?

The race starts at midnight on Friday, February 19th. Without getting into the details too much there are six stages and each stage is kept secret until you finish the previous one. You have until noon on Sunday to finish all of them. The winner is the person who can nab the most stages in the shortest amount of time. From the race rules on the website:

To win: Most CP's in the least amount of time. 31 CP in 35 hours beats 30 in 30.

Why can't I make up my mind? I find myself solving all the little logistical problems in my head from time to time;

What would I eat that would be warm enough to heat my insides, easy to cook, and easy to clean up?

What would I wear/do I have enough to wear for 36 hours in Pisgah?

Do I wanna keep my extra body fat for warmth or lose it so I don't have to carry it around for 36 hours?

How can I get warm/stay warm while sleeping?

Do I wanna be in Pisgah for 36 hours?

Of course the last one is the kicker. I'm not too sure that when the first stage is over (I'm guessing some time around dawn on Saturday) that I'm gonna be in all that great of a mood to keep riding. I don't like being cold, but I can usually handle it in small doses. Once I get cold my body takes a long time to recover. Back when Captain Morgan and I were hanging it out trying to beat the finishing deadline at the 2008 Double Dare I didn't stop to layer up on the final descent in an attempt to save time. Not only did we finish ten minutes late I'm pretty sure I was in the early stages of hypothermia. It took me quite awhile to recover and stop shaking, and it involved dry clothes and an actual source of heat. It was an unpleasant and somewhat frightening experience, and I found out that it doesn't take much to push me over the edge when it comes to exposure to the cold.

Eric PMBAR Honcho Wever decides our fate as we shiver and turn a wonderful shade of blue.

I have enough clothing for one long cold ride, and that's about it. I've got one pair of tights that I haven't worn in years, and a few other items I use on sub 20 degree commutes. If those items get wet or soaked with sweat than I am officially screwed. I'm not sure how to fix that problem without throwing money at it.

This race is too tempting. It's only 2.5 hours from my house, but I'll have to leave after a full day of work and hop into rush hour Charlotte traffic to get there. I'll have been up for eighteen hours before the race even starts, and it will probably be twenty four hours before the first stage is over. That's a hell of a way to start my Saturday knowing there's still thirty hours left. The entry fee is damn cheap though, so pulling the plug or laying down is not really gonna be that hard to do (I find the difficulty of quitting increases as the entry fees get higher).

I'm as conflicted as I ever get with regards to my entry/non-entry into an endurance race. Most of my arguments against doing a race are not valid here. The cost is low, the travel logistics are easy (except for driving home on Sunday), the trails are great, the other folks there are good company, and there is some chance of success. The question still remains, will I have FUN for 36 hours? Dunno, but I guess I gotta figure it out before the race fills up.

If you are looking for a real challenge, not laps for 12-24 hours, not one hundred miles of marked trails, and not 4-7 continuous days of 4-7 hours of saddle time this is your race. Make no exceptions, there is nothing else like it out there. Myself??? I'm not so sure this is what I'm looking for, but then again why am I thinking about it ALL THE TIME?