1/3 of the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek

Warrior Creek really started a week before the race.

Let's review.

I went to Orlando for five days. I rode a trainer for one hour over the duration of the trip, changed my sleep schedule all around, and got massive blowout diarrhea at an Epcot Mexican restaurant.

I came back to work for two very slow days, only rode @ 35 miles, stressed out trying to do everything I needed to get done before the weekend, and what's that?

Got diarrhea again on Friday? Sweet. I thought I was over it. Welcome back, my colon cleansing friend.

Friday during the workday I saw this video on the 6WC twitter feed.



The basic gist was that the trails were soaked. First thing I did when I got home from work was swap the MAXXIS Aspen for the MAXXIS Beaver.

I took care of a little business, picked up the family from the airport, and came home and found reports all over the web about how dry the trails are at Warrior Creek.

Remove the Beaver, replace with the Aspen, get slightly bothered by the fact that the bead isn't quite straight, pump it up to 50psi, relax in the living room...

until 9:30PM when the tire blew off the rim sending green Slime Pro all over the room and in the process knocking the wheel out of true.

Yes, my bad. I've heard of tires blowing off at 60psi. I thought 50 would be okay. I normally don't go over 40. I won't ever again.

So clean up the mess, remount the Beaver, true the wheel, bemoan the fact that I shoulda mounted the IKON, not do anything about it, and go to bed.

When my alarm went off at 5:40am, I was confused and scared. Once I figured out where I was and what I was doing, I got up, drank my coffee, ate five Honey Stinger Waffles, and got in my car. On the drive up, I felt like I could fall asleep instantly if I so desired.

The race started, and being that I lined up towards the front, I ended up being at the tail end of a great group. Normally I get choked behind some slower riders, but with no one slowing us down and nobody coming up from behind, we were choo-choo-choo'ing for miles. Up ahead I could see Charlotte locals Zac and Timmy, so I knew things were going well.

But...

Before the first lap was over, I started feeling funny. My legs felt like they were going to cramp, and my stomach felt empty. I think I held onto that group for the rest of the lap, but when I pulled over to reload my bottle cage, I ended up going back into the woods alone.

And then I felt woozy, and crampy, and tired, and odd, and dry, and empty, and dizzy, and grumbly...

although I was looking good (blown up, but good), and very METAL.

I knew I was quitting at the end of that lap. Somewhere around 6th or 7th place at the time, but drifting back quickly. I felt like I normally feel on the fourth or fifth lap. Meh.

I pulled into the pits, hung out for a long time with Shanna from Endless Bikes, ate her food, cheered on all the local folk, booed anyone from outta state, and drank about 130oz of liquids (none of them alcoholic). It was nice to hang out and talk to everybody. It was not so nice having to tell everyone about my butt problems... over, and over, and over, and over, and over...

Although I continued hydrating, I still ended up with a claw shaped foot cramp later that evening.

So apparently you can not have your ass turn into a Supersoaker, ignore the fact that you're depleted, and go out and make great bike race. Who knew?

Way to start the "season", eh?