Tag Archives: Motivation

Race Alchemy

[Alchemy: A medieval magic concerned primarily of turning base metals into gold.]

When I found out that the Leadville Trail 100 was an obligatory team race, I was not exactly excited.

Its lack of prize money is one thing, but the previous LT100 races I’d done were about as painful and mind numbing as doing a six and a half hour wall-sit with while huffing through a dirty paper bag.

I love a good challenge; especially the trill sound of wheels clanking on rocks and experiencing the roller coaster G’s of finely-tuned single track peppered with berms. Slicing and dicing along single track; these are thing things I’m stoked to do. It’s races like the Breck Epic that bring a big smile to my face.

So I waxed philosophical about the Leadville race. ‘Maybe I’ll just think of it as a road race on a rough course?’

Eureka! Bringing a new narrative to the same old race this was the key to motivate and get the best out of my teammates and myself.

Leaville 100 is a dirt road out-and-back course at 10,000+ feet average elevation that climbs to 12,300 feet at the halfway point then returns through a flattish valley and finishes with two tough climbs. Since it’s dirt roads are constant, it’s one of the few iconic races in mountain biking that has an unchangeable course – and therefore a course record.

In 2013, my Topeak-Ergon teammate Alban Lakata smashed Levi Leipheimer’s course record by 10 minutes, An unreal time of 6:04:00 was set (The LT100 is actually 103.5 miles, and features 11,000 feet of climbing through dizzying altitudes so the speed need is 17 mph ) In that race, the reigning world champion at the time, Christopher Sauser, and Alban ( Reigning and former world champion) waged a battle of epic proportions! How could anyone go faster than that? Those guys had a dog fight right to the end. Their intense rivalry propelled them 24-minutes ahead of even Lance Armstrong’s finishing time on the course in a previous year!

Fast forward to 2015, while our team was enjoying a pizza at the end of a tough TransAlp Challenge: thinking ahead to the LT100, the gears in my head turned. I said to Alban, “a sub-6 hour is possible; it’s only four minutes!” Alban and I, with our teammate Kristian “The Hammer” Hynek, could work together on the extensive flat dirt road sections and paceline into the headwinds to slice seconds off the winning splits from 2013.

The goal crystalized. The coach/scientist in my head began running scenarios of how this might work out.

Historically, the LT100 lead-group blasts it to pieces on the monster hour-long climb to Columbine Mine at 12,300 feet. Then, on the way back it’s like a solo time-trial across the valley – often into the wind.

It’s metabolically reaching the physiological limits to ride more than 1,000 Kilojoules per hour for more than 6 hours while hypoxic and only 75% of normal sea level oxygen. Hitting the climbs at anaerobic threshold causes a metabolic shift to approximately 90% glycogen fueling. What this means is: if you ride really hard on the climbs, you will empty the tank after five hours and suffer pins and needles numbness in your arms legs, searing pain and a general bonking sensation. Kristian experienced this while leading the LT100 race by six minutes last year.

A few clever aerodynamic tricks combined with the team strategy of sticking together should enable us to split the workload and unlock the key 5-minute split lead needed before the grueling final 20 miles.

With our team’s goal firmly in place and a strategy to support it, the Leadville Trail 100 starting shotgun blasted off just before sunrise. I went to the front and pushed the pace, helping cut some easy seconds off our normally brisk pace of 40k an hour to St Kevin’s (our first checkpoint along the course).

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I hit the first climb and knew the 10 previous days I had spent at altitude had paid off!  At the top we had a 1-minute advantage on the ghost pace of 2013.

A big lead group split off from the main field, including all the contenders: Todd Wells, Alban Lakata, Kristian Heinik, Christoph Sauser, Soren Nissen and me.

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Todd flatted and our group shrank. Alban moved into a super-tuck and dive-bombed the paved downhill; leaning through blind corners like a motorcycle.

Once at the bottom, I rolled to the front and got to work leaning on the mini aerobars I’d been testing in secret. We were moving; already 90seconds up on our time splits by mile 16. Game on!

After a blistering climb up Sugar Loaf, we rocketed through the early morning shadows of the dusty sidehill descent of Powerline. I could see the dust swirl and the ruts – big enough in places to eat a VW bug. It could be the end of your season if you took the wrong line.

BING!

I heard my rim, and felt it bottom-out on a rock at near 40 mph. I thought I’d flat, but didn’t.

Our group reassembled at the bottom, as we hit the main flat pavement and dirt road trip out to Twin Lakes. It was time to fuel.

Our group was working well and I made use of the aerobars where they’d be best on the headwind or flats.  Alban was obviously motivated by the 3-minutes ahead of record that we posted by the pipeline aid station. His large frame was steady as his tan muscled legs churned out gothic watts on the front. ‘The rainbow jersey is on his back for a reason,’ I thought.

It would have been risky for him to work so hard on pace making, since we had Christopher Sauser in tow, and since we only had him doing courtesy pulls, it was hard to gauge what he might be saving. Kristian also pulled through, but eventually the two would battle it out on the last climb.

Columbine hurt. I was feeling the 45 miles of world record pace setting. Kristian drove the pace at the front and Sauser and Nissen started falling off. I could’t help it but I thought of the extra pound clamped to my bars as the difference between getting dropped from our trian and being comfortable. I buckled down like the race had only this one climb left.

As we reached tree line, something magic happened: I found my alpine groove and was holding strong with the top-two marathon riders in the world. My time on the climb even tied for second fastest recorded on Strava.

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As we made our way up, there was an almost-tribal breathing rhythm. Trying to turn the cranks, I could feel the ghostly thin wind and hear it wheezing through the spokes.

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The descent gave us a look back on the competition, since the whole course is an out-and-back.

As usual, this kamikaze decent down and against oncoming race traffic is a Russian roulette; with zombie riders weaving their ways up the climb. Many of the racers cheered for us; and that part is really cool. Not cool was trying to follow Sauser as he enduro’d his way back to the lead group.

Phew, made it! My legs were feeling heavy though. On one section, Alban ran into a lady who had bobbled trying to climb up a step section, almost ending his day.

We synchronized and locked into a paceline again. I took some good turns at the front and fought against the threat of legs straining underneath 70 miles of sub-6-hour pace! As we approached the base of Powerline, it looked like we were 5 minutes up on the record pace. “No way I thought”, this will be close!

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As the last climb approached, and working to slice seconds off every place I could, I took a final big pull at the front. The others refused to pull hard into the wind, but Alban lead into the base of the climb like a Spartan would.

Now that it was man against the mountain, I could tell Kristian had plans and he lit it up! I had to measure my effort, and lost a little time to Alban who lost a little time to Christian. I was dropping Sauser and Nissen and my legs were feeling surprisingly strong.

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Halfway up, it seemed evident that Kristian would have two minutes lead on Alban and three minutes on me by the summit of power line’s nasty half hour climb. To my surprise, Sauser came back like a storm. He was dropping the rock-strewn Jeep trail descent with the reckless speed one might use during his final LT100.

I hung on! We hit the dirt road and could see Alban some 40 seconds ahead!

Sauser asked me to pull through on the smooth 50kph section. ‘No way, I’m not chasing a teammate.’ It would be dangerous if Sauser latched on to Alban. I just hoped Alban had enough left to hold his gap. He did and then came to life as the final 10 miles hit. Making eye contact with Kristian some 90 seconds ahead on the final climb, he put on the turbos; overtaking a now-cracked Kristian in the final 200 meters to win in a historic sub-6-hour time of 5:58:38!

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Just out of sight, I was blasting the final climb in an all-out-attempt to go sub-six myself. I had looked to the clock at 6k to go, and realized I was 5:45:00 in. It was SO close to the finish. I said to Sauser, ‘I don’t care about the sprint, I just want my best time!’ I put my head down and drove it.

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At the finish line we sprinted. I got pipped at the line – as expected – but, hey, 6:01:01 is an unbelievable time.

The pride of working together as a team for an epic goal was like the magic of turning lead into gold!

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This is my account, for the full story and behind the scenes look at the Topeak-Ergon Racing Team assault on the sub-6-hour record at the LT100, check out our our videos, interviews and images from living the legend, beyond limits.

– Jeremiah Bishop
Team Topeak Ergon

Jeremiah Bishop Signs with Topeak-Ergon

Signing American endurance specialist, Jeremiah Bishop, Topeak-Ergon Racing Team sets its sights on dominance in endurance mountain bike events around the world.

Topeak-Ergon Racing Team is ambitiously launching into the 2015 endurance mountain bike season. With the addition of Jeremiah Bishop, the German-based team has committed one of the top athletes in the American endurance scene. Bishop will vie for the title of USA National Marathon Champion, as well as top results at stage races and ultra-endurance events around the world.

Jeremiah Bishop joins Alban Lakata (AUT), Kristian Hynek (CZE), Robert Mennen (GER), and Sally Bigham (UK), to form the perfect line-up for 2015 and become a threat to take podium spots at all the important mountain bike events. For Jeremiah this presents the opportunity to participate in major events outside the United States.

“This is a very exciting step for me,” says the reigning overall winner of the American National Ultra Endurance Series. “Now I can ride at the toughest races all over the world and will be assisted by an incredibly professional team with the best partner materials and amazing bikes from Canyon. I’m really looking forward to this new challenge!”

Team manager Dirk Juckwer is also very enthusiastic. “Finally we have the opportunity to start with two strong male teams at all the big stage races. This allows us much more room for tactical and technical racing.” The importance of this was significantly shown at the Cape Epic victory of Robert and Kristian last year.

Bishop’s first official participation with the team will be at the Andalucia Bike Race from February 22-27 in Spain. This six-day stage race around Cordoba is considered as the perfect preparation for the Absa Cape Epic, which takes place just a month later in South Africa and in which the team will compete. After the early season racing campaign across the Atlantic, Bishop will return to the USA to focus on events in the National Ultra Endurance Series, the Breck-Epic, and other popular endurance events with Topeak-Ergon USA teammates Dave Wiens, Yuki Ikeda, and Jeff Kerkove. Bishop will return to Europe to compete in the TransAlp stage race.

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To follow Bishop’s racing season as it unfolds, “Like” TEAM TOPEAK-ERGON on Facebook and follow @ErgonBike on Twitter.

Adventure is Driving Me

[This is the second part of “The Biggest Bike Week of My Life” previous blog entry. I was left on my mission alone; riding in the dark in a forest area of almost two million acres.]

My headlamp cast shadows, fixed silhouettes like pop-up books. Smoky grey and browns and charcoal black: the new colors of the night world. It was spooky. Trepidation, the fear of the unknown; the dark place in the mind creates much worse things than the real places where darkness dwells.

That having been said, the silhouette of a pit bull charging toward me in the dark was something really to be scared of! Because my lights only pointed forward, I could just get a couple glimpses of the muscled white dog getting into position. My hair stood on end. Out of the corner of my eye, I could only see teeth barking at me from 7 o’clock. I burst to full speed and could hear its nails on the pavement. “Scratch, scratch, scratch,” from each paw searching for traction. I could hear the tires ” vrrrrip, vrrrip, vrrrip” and I drove the pedals full gas on the slight uphill.

As the dog sounds’ faded into the distance, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. ‘That was not cool,’ I muttered.

(Days after my adventure, my wife overheard me telling this story to a friend. She exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me about that? You should carry a gun so you can shoot at things you can’t see in the dark! Especially in Africa!” Not a great idea, on second thought.)

My hands and arms were raw and tired and my back hurt under the strain of rock moves, log jumping, portages and hike-a-bike sections.

Entering Douthat State Park was a nice respite from the evil backcountry trails whose rocks, ravines and tree-strewn trails threatened to swallow me whole. I was now on a mountain bike roller coaster around slender bench-cut singletrack. Delightful ribboning switchbacks are the legacy of the Civilian Conservation Corps.

I finally hit my first real stop 11 hours into my ride. At the end of the Park road, I pedaled toward the lone gas station, stomach growling and legs weak. I was hoping it was open at 2 a.m., since there was nothing else there. My pedals turned slowly. I tempered my excitement, thinking if it’s closed, I guess I’d just take a nap in the wet grass.

Welcome to Vegas! I rounded the corner to see the lights on that said “OPEN!” WOO HOO! As I entered the store, it was sensory overload like a casino floor of sweets and junk food and salty heaven! All the shiny wrappers and glowing signs blinded me and stole my night vision.

I bought giant bag of trail mix, had a “white-trash mocha” (equal parts gas station coffee and machine-dispensed cappuccino) a Snickers, a doughnut, some mini chocolates and cheeseburger.

The bloodshot-eyed attendant asked in a southern draw, “You need a bag?”

“No thanks.” I ate it all on the spot. I had to get caught up with calories since my poor planning had me without food for the last two hours on the trail.

Recharged and feeling solid, powered by a 2,000-calorie snack, I got back in the groove and finally started north. As I climbed, I exited the groomed State Park and it was evident I was again in the backcountry!

While riding the damp sapling-hell of tangled low trees, at times I could only see three feet ahead of me. I thought how easy it would be for a bear to get surprised by my unexpected appearance and attack. (The night lets thoughts creep in which normally don’t pop up in the day.)

On Little Mare Mountain I had a couple scares. Portaging my bike over a down log, I smashed my shin sharply into the pedal and almost collapsed from the pain. I thought, ‘I might be stranded out here.’ Luckily the pain subsided. No major injury, I carried-on. Trying to ride a rock garden, I crashed which had me putting my ankles between two rocks as I fell. This one could have been BAD! I managed to go the rest of the route without too much trouble; not an easy task when I couldn’t even see below the knee-deep brush. I pushed on.

It was 3 a.m. I finally got a call through to my emergency pit stop crew and coordinated a drop. I navigated the strange new trail in awe that I had never ridden Brushy Mountain and its sick side-benched goat path before. Was I 100 feet up? 2,000 feet up? Since it was dark, I was not sure, but didn’t plan to fall down and find out.

After riding for hours with not even a flicker of light from a house a car or anything, I crossed the swinging bridge over the Cowpasture River. Ahead I spied a car headlight. I heard some kids shouting? As I got closer, I heard “MUNGA! MUNGA! MUNGA!”

It was the boys! I was ecstatic to see my friends Danny Gibney and Dan Wolfe who surprised me out here at 3:30 in the morning. I had some cold pizza and shared some stories over a few Cokes. It was sweet after the jungle track I had just survived.

Elliots Sun Rise
My next section was twenty miles of road and dirt road. This however brought faster speeds, and as the temperature dropped, my knees were freezing cold and causing quite a bit of pain. I pushed hard, as I have found the endorphins block pain.

The darkest hour before twilight – the witching hour – was approaching. I matched my longest bike ride ever during this hour. Elliotts Knob – the biggest climb to the highest point – was ahead. I was dreading the hour and a half of climbing with steep leg-saping pitches, hike-a-bikes, rock gardens and impenetrable briars wet with dew would make it the biggest test of the ride. I pushed through, talking myself into thinking if this is only one of the three big pre-Munga tests, then its worth at least $20,000 to be under 20-hours (my time goal for the ride).

I was rewarded at the top by the golden orb burning thru the mist.

The most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen; like a giant tangerine wrapped in downy rose petals against antennas at the top of the 4,500-foot peak. Hello, sunshine!

Wave after wave of clouds filled the valley floor below. It was like being on an island!
The descent off Elliotts Knob was indescribable; high-speed sidehill singletrack interspersed with rock gardens, switchbacks and small trees in full autumn foliage as I descended into the clouds!

Then Crawford Knob’s “four walls” nearly stopped me in my tracks. These hike-a-bike sections were hell. I could barely push the bike without my feet sliding backwards. Like walking up a ski slope, I was starting to hurt again but in new ways; feet and hamstrings ached. I felt like a fly on flypaper.

I eventually toped out on Crawford Knob. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel!
One more trail to go! Half an hour climb up Hanky Mountain and then I’ll be able to sail back to the Stokesville Lodge. But first, I had the best descent of the whole ride: bench-cut side-hill single track at 30+ mph with carve-alicious turns and switchbacks. I had Cinderella’s shoes on, powered by sunshine again! I knew, despite my excitement, that my sleepiness could have me wrapped around a tree, broken and bleeding in no time, so I checked my excitement.

At the bottom of the descent, I saw two ribbons hanging from a tree with reflective tape marking a drop box the guys had stashed for me. I dreamed of pepperoni pizza. I could taste bacon, egg and cheese on a buttery croissant in and all its salty glory.

Inside the box were just some gels, energy bars and a Coke, but I guess it was all sugar I needed to keep on going. I made a quick pit, decided upon sitting down for two minutes. I was only training, so it was okay.

I pushed hard at the final climb, finding a new energy and motivation and the hope that the harder I went up to climb, the faster I’d get back. I was amazed that I was actually starting to feel good again! The sun warmed me. The shivers and bad dreams of the night seemed days ago. I was in flight, hammering! WOW!

Reflection on how it felt
20,000-feet of climbing! 19.5 hours and 165 miles with darkness, hike-a-bikes, thorn caves and stream crossings, steep-ass trails with loose rocks, glowing animal eyes, and riding through brush traps all paled in comparison to the mental beast. I had overcome thorny doubt, cold despair and crystalline fear. With an escort by Chris Scott through the final mile of trails, I was fired up. It felt better than winning an XC national! I had done something no one has done before and something I thought I might not be capable of doing!

I have just opened the door on this game, but have a newfound respect for ultra-endurance cyclist. The dull ache of the legs, the raw skin-breaking pain of a saddle wearing your skin, and then there’s the pain of mental fatigue: the drain, the sinking feeling. Much like waves crashing up against the beach with different pulses of intensity and duration, but always the farther it recedes and the better you feel. You know it’s going to come back strong again just when?

Over coming these obstacles is a huge thrill. Honing your mental game is to sharpen an ax, doubling its effect at cutting anything you should choose to go after.

I was surprised how many times I smiled on this ride. I did actually have a blast. It wasn’t the hell I thought it would be. During the trip, I was under a magic spell. The feeling of riding at night with no one else around, the stars twinkling, the animals howling and hooting under the moon, just the silence of my bike moving in the woods. The mission kept the pain away and in this case, the thrill was well more than the cost.

I thought how extremely lucky I am to be able to do this ride: living a dream. I felt with this big test behind me, I was definitely capable of going the distance in The Munga.

Then like a bombshell, I read the headlines, “The MUNGA is postponed until 2015.”

Oh NO!

After the initial shock subsided, I got to thinking a bit.
Munga training made a man out of me and helped me find a new side to riding! Adventure, new friends and the inspiration to try what I thought was impossible.

Now I know I can do it. In 2015, when The Munga takes place, I will be ready.

Amazing thing is: I really enjoyed the epic training and the SDS expedition, and I will do it again next spring as an invitational event. To be in the forest covered by canopy and propelled by dreams is something you have to experience to truly understand. The Munga may be why I set out on this, but it is clear that the adventure is what is driving me to new heights.

As one door closes for a time, another door opens. I am very excited to have found a new home with a great team. I’m excited to break the details of this news very soon.

In the mean time, I will look forward to the rest of this season and perhaps a more relaxing December after all.
– Jeremiah

Hit the play button for a playback of my first ever non-stop through ride of this route.

Here’s a video from Shenandoah Mountain Touring about Stokesville Douthat Stokesville, in case you’re thinking of planning your own adventure.

Fire in Ice

Today I came to several groundbreaking realizations:

1. If you are wearing a down coat, no one suspects you could be shirtless underneath. This feels very sneaky and fun.
2. A cornered possum does not have that much it can do to defend itself from predators.
3. If you have not raced in several months, it’s tough to tell how you will do in your first race despite hard days on the bike.

angry possum

 

Perhaps these things don’t have much in common; such are thoughts as they cascade on a cold winter day.

Yesterday’s jaunt in the snow was (I hope) one of my last nasty winter rides for the year. Next week I line up with the rest of the probably-more-tan-than-me pros at Mellow Johnny’s Pro XCT for a test of who’s done their homework.

The sky today was in conflict: snow one minute, and the curiously warm rays of the golden afternoon sun the next. I was content just to get anything in today – the last week has been miserable. Two days of trainer rides; a cold windy motor-pace day; and today seemed to have me in pajama-mode not wanting to ride bikes. I found motivation in that I will be in sunny Texas soon and the winter is nearing an end here in Virginia – the warmer conditions to come are the rewards for the hard winters days.

I was SO glad I made it out to the mountains because it was beautiful. There was some exploration to be had and I even got in some tempo climbing on one of my remote go-to training grounds. The sky swirled one minute with snow curtains and ink colored clouds. Then as if by script I ascended a south-facing climb of shale and long gold grass and the heat was twice what I expected – my own personal desert. The fire in the sky has come back and it was not to be denied.

gold grass

I enjoyed the rest of the ride; the rain sprinkles, a new logging track I have never seen before, and the general feeling of working outdoors is invigorating especially given how busy the coming month will be. After the ride, I changed out of my clothes and realized I’d forgot a shirt. So, jeans and a parka it was. As I went in to pick up some spicy Indian carryout, I smiled knowingly.

The pre-season has been a good one; with a lot of tough training, good times with friends and family over the holidays, and camps in Cali and SC.

It is always better out there than you think it will be and you’ll be glad to be outside feeling alive. So, when in doubt: get out!

Perhaps no one else knows what’s under the parka, but I do and it’s a lot of bike rides and some solid good times outside.

JB