When I ran my first marathon, I was given advice from a friend to savor the experience because there would only be one first marathon. This advice was very helpful at the time in keeping my race in perspective and not getting too caught up in my finish time. Nevertheless, I did not experience any particular magic in finishing my first marathon. My goal was to prove to myself I could run a marathon before I attempted an Ironman, but I never really had any doubts that I could get it done.
My first Unbound Gravel, on the other hand, was a dream. The descriptions of this race propelled me to buy a gravel bike with no idea of who I would ride with and where I would go. Stories of tricky climbs and descents, peanut butter mud, huddling in ditches hiding from lightening, amazing views, and miles of lonely country lit a fire in my brain that told me this was a race to attempt. I had been looking at my limits on a bike and realized this might push me to an edge I didn’t know I had.
I had gotten into the 200 in 2020 and was deep in training when the pandemic swept through the world and shut down many dreams. The disappointment I felt when it was cancelled was deep, although it turns out that gravel was my solace through the rest of 2020. I deferred to 2021 and kept training.
In June 2021, my dream came true and in the most magic way possible. In April 2021, the vaccines had been opened to all Americans and I was fully vaccinated. At the time, we believed that we had found the magic bullet and if vaccinated, we were fully protected. Emporia was euphoric, welcoming back the crazy people who had turned their town into a gravel mecca. The joy that people had during the race weekend was palpable. I had no goal but to finish. The race was brutally hot, taking out 40% of the competitors, which made my accomplishment of finishing on the podium even sweeter.
It was such an amazing experience that Lambert, Drew and I were planning within weeks of the finish how we would improve on our times and have a better race. We signed up again with the goal of beating the sun and, secretly, reliving that incredible day. Of course, as Mike Tyson said, everyone has a plan until they get hit in mouth.
I have struggled to write this report because I’m finding I don’t have much to say. The town and its citizens were just as wonderful as they were last year. Lambert, Drew and I had a great time traveling and staying together. It was fun to have seven of my Gainesville friends doing the race and seeing friends I had made last year and meeting those I had from online groups. The expo was amazing and I managed to fangirl on a few pro cyclists.
Back Left to Right: Gabe Nossa, Keith Richards, Graham Partain, Steven Bailey, Me, Dana Zimmel, Sam Bailey.
Front Left to Right: Amy Talbot, Ben Talbot, Lambert Vaes
Fangirling: Dylan Johnson, Alison Tetrick, Laurens Ten Dam (I ran out of selfie requests)
The race was fun and grueling, but not particularly difficult compared to last year. There were definitely some horrible parts (especially the 1.2 miles of peanut butter mud). The worst part was losing Lambert about five miles into the race. It turned out that he had multiple flats, which I’ve decided is just bad luck, given that he had exactly the same tires that Gabe and I used and we escaped flat-free. Gabe and I rode a lot of the race together, but we often separated and rode parts of it alone.
Sam, Gabe, Lambert and I at the start.
Around mile 35 or so
The first mud section at about mile 120. About 1.2 miles of walking, followed by a dip in the stream to wash our bikes. This was the longest amount of time I spent off my bike.
The roads were fast and a majority of them were smooth (compared with Gainesville gravel). There were significantly fewer technical sections than the previous year (except the mud), 3,000 fewer feet of climbing, six fewer miles, and nice cool weather. By the time I had gotten to the mud, it wasn’t technical, it was just get off your bike and walk.
The best (and worst) part was the last forty miles. I left the second SAG stop with three hours left. I had read that the roads in from the second stop were pretty smooth going, so I thought I would have plenty of time to beat the sun. Around mile 170, I crested a hill and looked down upon people walking their bikes. I was heart-broken. I didn’t think I’d have the energy to make up the speed after a long hike-a-bike section. Gabe and I had agreed when we hit the next mud slog, we would heft our bikes immediately to keep them from getting weighted down with mud. He lifted his with ease; I struggled to get mine on my shoulder. He easily outpaced me. I had told him to go on without me if he had the chance to beat the sun. (I felt like one of us should, at least.) The mud was sticky, but there were a few ridable parts and I got through it faster than I thought, plus there was no mud on my bike to clean off, so soon enough I was back on and moving with no need to stop at the creek for cleaning.
Gabe was long gone ahead of me and I was suffering up each hill. On the flats, I could get back up to 18-20 mph, but with every hill my chance at beating the sun dwindled. I can’t say what kept driving me on, but I wasn’t willing to give up. I suffered up the hills and pushed on the flats. I was pushing along on a flat when a train of seven riders came by me at a quick pace. The last guy yelled, “hop on,” and I took his invitation. I have never worked so hard to stay on a wheel. Every time I thought I would lose it, the speed seemed to slack just a little and I could get a new breath. Over and over, I repeated to myself, “Just one more minute.”
If I could hold on just one more minute, I would be that much closer to beating the sun. I was able to sustain this for about 10 miles, focusing on the wheel in front of me and repeating my mantra. Suddenly, I realized that we were slowing down a lot. The guy in front of me was done and had fallen off the group, but I hadn’t noticed in time to get around him and I watched them ride off. But it didn’t matter. I had nine miles until the end and 45 minutes to make it. I was confident then, barring a mechanical, I would make my goal if I could keep pushing my pace.
My stomach hurt, my back hurt, even my legs hurt. The last couple hills were mountains. With luck, I found another rider to ride in with. I was so thankful to have someone who had enough energy to chat as we rode. I have never pushed so hard when I thought I had nothing left. I lost him on the final hill, but that was less than a mile from the finish and I was able to pick up the pace to ride through the finishers’ chute with a smile on my face and my fist in the air as I crossed the line. I was proud and exhausted all at the same time.
Accomplishing my goals: making the podium, beating the sun, and finishing with a smile
It was not the same race. You can’t go home again. I had a great time and accomplished my goals, but it was not a fairy tale ending. I would highly recommend that anyone who wants to do this race, throw your hat into the lottery. If you think you can do the 200, sign up for the 200. And enjoy the hell out of your first time.
Drew was again a fantastic crew person. He had me in and out of the first rest stop in less than three minutes and the second in less than five minutes. He was thoughtful and knowledgeable about my bike mechanics. And best of all, he caught me at the end and took care of my poor bike while I whined about my stomach. He and Steve worked well together as Steve followed the racers on the website and reported where our teammates were and how I was doing. I seriously could not ask for a better crew for this race. Thank you, Steve and Drew, for keeping track of me on a day that could have easily gone wrong.
I would also like to thank Lambert, who had more belief in my abilities than I did and suffered in this race more than I did. And thank you to Gabe, who rode most of the ride with me, for bringing so much joy to the race. There was no point in the race where I didn’t see him smiling, including the last time I saw him as we hit the second mud stretch. I was definitely not smiling, but he looked back at me with a huge smile and just said, “well, here we go” as he hefted his bike on his shoulders. I wish everyone had as good of time as he did out there.
Gabe smiled the entire time.
I would also like to thank my pre-race team, Keith Williams at Springhill Therapeutic Massage, who as always keeps me moving; Misti White at Go Primal, who showed me the value of stretching and was willing to try everything possible to get my back in shape for the race; and Jillian Mooney, with Performance Nutrition Coaching, who changed my life when she changed my diet. I completely credit her coaching for allowing my body to perform so well under tough circumstances and, even better, recover within a couple days of the race.
Thank you also to all my friends who are willing to put up with my crazy rides, singular focus, and long winded stories. You are all the best.
"Beat the sun" is going to be my mantra. I live in the Sunbelt and am no fan of it when the heat is on. Well done! Really enjoy your perspective on these. The good and the grueling. It's great. (Were you sponsored, or does everyone get crew care afterwards?) Thanks! (Also short hair looks great on you!!)
What percentage make it under the sun?