Fair Hill 50 Endurance Mountain Bike Race

This is what I felt like by the end of the race.

I was well prepared for the Fair Hill 50 endurance mountain bike race. I had originally planned to ride a road race on Saturday and then the Fair Hill race on Sunday, but the roads were wet and rainy so I lay on the couch and carbo-loaded all day instead. I also took advantage of the downtime to spend a solid 2 hours cleaning my mountain bike. A clean bike is a happy bike, and I wanted my bike to be overjoyed to be racing at Fair Hill!

I had ridden this race last year and had a great time, even though I was plagued by drivetrain issues throughout the entire race. This year I had a couple ideas to improve on my performance. Fair Hill is an interesting race in that with a few small exceptions, the entire course is single track. This means no respite; you're always "on" to avoid going in the ditch.

I was joined by junior racer Kyle, who raced the U19 Cat. 2 class. I picked him up at his house and we made the hour-long trek up to Elkton, MD and arrive with plenty of time to register and get kitted up. The endurance class departed at 8:00AM, 45 minutes before Kyle's race, so I bid him a good race and took my place at the start. The weather, while overcast, was not raining. It was, however, oppressively humid and muggy.

The Start!

There were many riders already massed at the start, so I didn't get as good of a starting position as I might have liked (I'm too nice to push my way up to the front like a big shot). The Fair Hill course takes a two or three mile prologue around some farm fields before diving into the woods. I knew from last year that it would be important for me to make my way towards the front of the pack by the time we got into the woods or I would get stuck behind the conga lines of people that typically form when the field hits the singletrack.

Keeping that in mind, I hustled my way up somewhere near the front - burning a rather large glycogen match in the process. I was probably in the top 20-30 riders when we hit the woods. This was great for me, because instead of getting held behind the crowds, I only got put on "pause" at the first slightly technical section - after that, I didn't have any problems whatsoever getting stuck behind people. The downside to hustling up to the front was that my caffeine-fueled adrenaline afterburner was in high gear, and I proceeded to slam through the first 15 miles in something higher than the metabolic "simmer" that would have been more appropriate for a race of this distance.

You can see how the heart rate spike early on in the race resulted in a gradual drooping of effort over time.

The Fair Hill course had one thing in common with the course of the Summer Sizzler - it was extremely twisty and turny for much of its length. I came into the woods with an average speed of 14mph, and that quickly plummeted to somewhere between 10 and 11 mph as I crept my way around a seemingly infinite sequence of 180-degree turns. On one of those turns, I didn't counter-lean against my bike, and it went out from under me. D'oh! No biggie though, I hopped back up and was on my way in no time.

This thing that looks like a pile of spaghetti is actually a map of the race course.

I spent the first 25 miles or so of the race pedaling by myself - not getting chased, and not chasing. It was a little odd, but suited me just fine as there was no pressure in either direction. I just kept the throttle at the max that my legs would let it sit at, and tried to drink and eat gels when possible. I kept hearing brakes squeaking, but because the course was so twisty it was impossible to tell if they were in front of me or behind me. I kept telling myself that the squeaks were signs of someone chasing me, so that I would keep the intensity up. I did get passed by two people, which disappointed me until I realized they were the first and second place single speed riders, at which point I began cheering them on. I would pass and be passed by the second-place guy several more times before the day was done.

My hydration pack held out for the first 25-mile lap around the course, but ran dry a few miles after crossing the start/finish line for the second lap. I stopped at the next available aid station and filled up with some deliciously cold water. I had been putting down the occasional energy gel, but the nature of the all-singletrack course was not conducive to eating without stopping, and I was not going to stop if at all possible. The humidity was extremely draining, and by this point I was starting to feel the mental and physical exhaustion of both the always-on riding and the extended burn that I had put on in the beginning of the race.

Mental games began to take place in my head as I tried to convince my body to just push a little harder, just a little longer. Luckily by the second lap around, I had managed to get my cornering skills a little bit more dialed, and was able to concentrate more on pushing and less on going around corners.  The single track was not too technical, just filled with corners and roots. Even so, the average speed I was able to maintain was not very fast.

Just when I had managed to talk myself into a good mental place (at about mile 45, with 4+ hours of hard riding under my belt), I came around a corner into an unexpected v-ditch and wiped out - hard. I yelled several obscenities, probably alarming the volunteer who was trying to ask me if I was OK. I got up, stood there for a second, and got my bike back upright. My legs were cramping, and I was a little stunned. Other than that, no serious damage. I tried to convey that to the volunteer, and climbed back up on my bike. Only one person had passed me while I was down, so I tried to get back on the race wagon. However, coming that late in the race, with that much effort, drain, and fatigue imbued on my system, it took me several minutes to get my head back in the game.

This is survival mode.

Wouldn't be a good time without some scrapes and dirt!

The last few miles were in spent in survival mode, which for me is a good bit faster than some of the people I began to pass. However, I knew that the people that I was competing against were going just as fast as me, if not faster, so I eked out speed where I could and made do as best as possible where I couldn't. At long last, I hit an intersection and came across several beginner racers on a wider section of trail. I knew it couldn't be far now. I hammered down, sprinting the last several hundred meters and dropping through the finish line with a time of 4 hours and 41 minutes.

Last year, I had finished in something like 5 hours and 30 minutes, so already I was looking at a huge improvement. I hosed off, went back to the car and changed.  Everything hurt. My back was sore, and I had some startlingly strong ache in my left foot where I guess my relatively new shoes hadn't broken in yet. I had massive blisters on my hands, which surprisingly didn't really hurt. I threw on my sandals and hobbled back down to the finish line to check to see how I did. 8th place!! That was much better than I was expecting - I would have been perfectly happy with any spot in the top 30 and a sub 5-hour finish.

We drove back home and called it a day. All told it was an epic race, and a hugely challenging event for me.

Garmin Data