Going back to Ducktown...

It's official, I am ready for Spring to get here. My mental state has already transcended to flip flops and rum drinks. However, it is still that time of year in the South where we get teased by warm temps then it drops the next day. I am over filling the wingnut with every piece of cold weather gear I have to make the descents tolerable. However, even if it's not 65 and sunny outside I must keep the wheels turning cause the the Cohutta Challenge is just a few weeks away and I have committed to the 65 miler. I will leave the extra 35 miles of gravel alone and opt to have a cold beer and a buzz by the time the boys and girls doing the hundie roll across the line. Guess it goes back to my philosophy that a mtb race should have a higher ratio of singletrack to fire roads and that I enjoy keeping it on the fun side. Speaking of keeping it on the fun side, the trails at the White Water Center is where my racing attitude changed a bit. The single track at the White Water is amazing and I have only ridden the trails once since my epic race a few years ago where I proved once and for all that I am insane.

For those that don't know the story, I raced at Ducktown in a TBRA race at the Whitewater center a few years back when I was going for the TBRA jersey. After doing a practice lap in the cold rain the night before the race Jamie P and I camped out in cold rain, and I woke up feeling like someone hit me in the chest with a baseball bat. I knew I probably should not sign up for the race that morning but hell I traveled all that way and the jersey was on the line. I put down my money and got on the line only to fall to pieces as soon as I hit the first climb. I could not catch my breath and for the next hour I took short breaths trying to catch the other single speeders that passed me on the climb. I had never suffered like that and was thinking about pulling out after one lap. However, once I came back through the crowd I was encouraged to keep going as the leaders were "just up ahead" as a few of my crew said. So I put my head down and suffered through another lap and finished third feeling like total ass. I figured I must have phenomena or the flu because I was in pain and could not breath. Turns out I was racing with a fully collapsed lung (Spontaneous Pneumothorax) and from the doctors said when I went to the hospital the next day I was pretty lucky I didn't kill myself going for TBRA points. A few days later and I was out of the hospital with a different attitude about how far I should push myself. I love the trill of racing but I have finally learned that I don't need to push myself "that hard" ever again. After pushing my limits at the 24 hours of snowshoe for a few years in a row it was my thought and an ongoing joke that hopefully if you are pushing your limits in a bike race you would hopefully "puke before you died" but I guess I was wrong to think that way.

However, enough about that, I made it and haven't looked back. I still love the feeling of suffering on a long ride or while racing but I now know where to draw the line. As for what up with jut rut, I rode twice in the last few days and the back is finally getting better. I can put on socks without much pain and I don't need advil to make it through the day. I think I have paid my dues for livin' the good life here in Asheville considering I have torn a muscle, had the flu and busted my ass skateboarding all in the first 45 days in town. Bring on the warm temps, long rides and healthy living, it's time to get outside and play.

Jut