The Breck Epic

From 10-15 August I raced the Breck Epic, a six day mountain bike stage race based in and around Breckenridge, Colorado. With over 210 miles and almost 25 hours in the saddle, it was some experience! Here’s how it went for me: 

The ups

There was a lot of climbing. Over 6 days we climbed over 30,400 feet. Most was rideable… Every day there were sections which some could ride but some would walk. On one day I was one of about 5 women who skipped up a steep climb while men around us spun out and had to walk. Less torque more finesse! If I’d had the breath I’d have offered that advice. Maybe a good job I didn’t want to waste the oxygen.

There were two days with extended sections of hike a bike, but the terrain wasn’t too extreme and so walking and pushing were pretty easy. I’m really not a fan of hike a bike – who is?! Being pretty short, I don’t cover ground quickly, and I always seem to give myself the worst bruises when I’m pushing my bike – forever smacking myself off my pedals. In the race I got back on the bike whenever I could but the hike did give an opportunity to take in the views and on the biggest hiking days we were rewarded with the best descents, quashing any ill feeling towards the course designer that might have been brewing.


One of the monstor climbs

On day 4 we went from 9,300 to 11,100 over a seven mile climb, between around mile 24 and mile 31. That was tough! I’d gone out fast that day and had had a good first half of the race, keeping the intensity up and working hard to stick with the mixed pair race leaders who also seemed to be on a mission. (These guys put me, and a lot of the rest of us to shame. They were a father and daughter combo, she was probably around my age, he was clearly a bit older and she had a baby. They were smashing it). My training coach’s advice had been that this was ‘moving day’. Those who’d reached this stage in good shape would climb up the leader board. Others would slip back. This was the day to ‘make something happen’.

When I hit the 7 mile climb, I hit the wall. The only way I was moving was backwards, and it took an awful lot of effort to make anything happen. Hoards of people passed me as I crawled up the climb, including plenty I’d passed during the first half of the race. I had to give myself a bit of a shake. The way I was feeling about things at that stage, this was going to be the last time I did stage four of a six day race so I needed to get my act together and get up the climb (not a lot of positivity going on but it kept me going). I got there in the end and was rewarded with a fantastic descent of a trail we’d climbed earlier in the week. As was the way with this race though, there was a sting in the tail, and we had another 1,000 feet of climbing to do before we were on the final descent. Thankfully it wasn’t half as painful as the big climb had been, and the last few miles of singletrack to the finish ensured that I ended on a high.

The downs

Some of the descents which featured during the race were stonking. Miles of singletrack ribbon through sagebrush meadows, rolling trails along forested mountainsides, twisty, rooty, rocky gnarl in dense forest. A fantastic mix to suit all tastes. And there was so much of it. With 30,000 feet of climbing comes descending in equal measure, and when the climbs go on for miles, so do the descents. Some lasted for 20-30 minutes (a lot less of the race leaders!) and went from above the treeline into the depths of the forest. 

 
Our descent took us all the way down this valley

For me, the best part of the race was by far the descents, which is a bit of a turnaround. Previously, I’ve always gained advantages on the climbs, and because I’ve been pretty good at it, climbing had become what I liked to do best. This time, however, everything seemed to come together for me on the descents and I found that I wasn’t too bad at them. I found myself passing people, rather than being passed – quite a novelty! I’m not altogether sure what this change was down to, but I have been embracing the tougher trails, and have benefitted from some skills coaching this summer. I am definitely still at the stage of ‘conscious competence’, but that’s a big leap from ‘conscious incompetence’ which is where I have been for too long! Early in the season I did a skills session with Dirt School. Shortly after that I spent a week at Bike Village in the Alps where there is a cracking combination of awesome trails, tons of riding over all sorts of terrain, a totally relaxed atmosphere and guides on hand with very welcome hints and tips.

Throughout the descents I would tell myself to keep my heels down and spot the next bit of smooth trail. Focussing on the smooth trail meant I was always looking way ahead to where I was going, and it kept me relaxed so that my bike would just roll over any ‘features’ that were between me and the next smooth bit. Keeping my heels down gave me plenty grip, and came into its own on the odd occasion when I found just my front wheel rolling over the gnarl. Successful execution of any particularly tricky bits was followed with a cry of ‘Good girly!’ When your buddies aren’t with you, sometimes there’s no option but to big yourself up. Good for morale.

I only came a cropper once. It was day three and the race organiser had warned that those on hardtails might wish they’d brought something a little bouncier for this stage. I remembered this halfway down the descent and thought ‘Pah! I am on a hardtail and I am smashing this!’ after which I promptly hit the deck. Lesson learnt.  Or probably not.

The highs

There’s little better than a post race high, and the beauty of a six day stage race is that there are six of them in quick succession. At the end of each stage there was a refuelling station, with ice cold cans of coke, peanut butter and jelly and Nutella and marshmallow sandwiches made to order, fruit, crisps, pretzels – quite a spread! Everyone was buzzing, getting to know those they’d been racing against for the past few hours. 

Conscious of the need to get home and get my feet up, I would hang out for a bit then jump back on my bike for the 3 mile pedal home. I’d get home, get my bike washed, have a snack I’d prepared before I went out, then get in the ice bath. With outside temperatures dipping to freezing overnight, the water was pretty cold, but I added some ice anyway, just to be sure. After my bath, I spent the afternoon mostly kicking back on the couch, only getting up to grab snacks, hang washing, or watch the hummingbirds buzzing about the trees. Not a bad way to spend the day!

Race starts were my least favourite part of the day. We had about a ten minute pedal to the race start every day, and to get a good position you really had to be there about half an hour before the gun. My plan was to warm up in the initial half hour every day, so each day I started the race from cold, and it was tough. The pace was high from the off, and I really struggled to find any breath. My legs felt fine, but I just couldn’t breathe hard enough, and it took forever for my HR to come up. When I am training and doing short course races I usually feel like it takes me half an hour to warm up, so it was perhaps not surprising that I struggled so much at the starts. 

The good

There was so much that was good about the race organisation. Aid bags were one of the things which worked perfectly and meant that once I was on my bike I didn’t have much to think about other than riding. Each rider is given two aid bags, with their number on each. The bags are colour coded so that, for example, all the 200s were green. Each day there were 2 or 3 aid stations. Racers dropped their bags at race HQ an hour and a half before race start, identifying which bag was for Aid 1 and which was for Aid 2. The stations were positioned on the course so that they were as evenly spaced as they could be. We did reach terrain that was pretty much inaccessible other than by bike or foot. On days when there were 3 stations, the bag from Aid 1 was taken to Aid 3 after the racer had been in.

As racers approached the station there was an early spotter who shouted the approaching number to a band of volunteers positioned at the bags. Each time by the time I reached the station, there was my bag being held open by a cheery volunteer. Not a bad service! On the tougher days, when the miles just seemed to go on forever, glimpsing those brightly coloured bags through the trees really lifted the spirits. 

Every day there was a race brief and every day the race organiser told us what we shouldn’t be doing out on the course – littering, running stop signs, cutting the course, being rude to the volunteers at the aid station (can you believe that?!) He would often say ‘what I say to my 8 and 5 year old kids is…’ and to be honest, I haven’t felt so much like a five year old kid for a long time, and not in a good way. I got a bit grumpy about the tone of these race briefs, but what annoyed me more is that there were people who were out there doing these things! I’m glad to say that I didn’t experience any bad behaviour on the course. Everyone was friendly, encouraging and up for having a good time. 

The ugly

25 hours of riding, on rocky terrain, on a hard tail, is going to take its toll. Saddle soreness got the better of me on a few days. I made a real school girl error and wore a pair of bib shots that I’ve not trained in and had only done short course races in. What’s worse is that I wore them on more than one occasion. Before I realised my mistake it was too late and I was halfway up the first climb (both days). Fortunately I was carrying a sachet of chamois cream but it was disappointing (and a little awkward) to have to stop and apply it. Next time I will stick to my trusted shorts!

Will I do it again? I’m undecided. It was an amazing experience, but it was hard too! And it involved a lot of training. As the season comes to an end, I’m not sure whether I want to commit so much time to being on my bike, looking at my Garmin instead of the views, and listening to its beep instead of chatting with friends. I am definitely ready for a training break, when I’ll have some time to reflect on the year, and to start thinking about the next challenge.

THE RESULT

Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention the result...

I came a solid 10th in the open women category.  I think I had one day when I was ninth and one when I was 12th, but otherwise, maintained my position.  

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