Race Report: 24 Hours in the Enchanted Forest MTB Race & Lessons Learned about Resilience

"Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors." - African Proverb

I am just so filled with gratitude and joy and I wish everyone reading this could feel what I feel now. My feeling comes from achieving a goal... one that wasn't easy and required a tremendous amount of overcoming fear, discomfort and suffering. In fact, I 'recalibrate' and ground myself with this sort of experience every year to make sure I'm able to dig deep and embrace being fully alive, especially now in my mid-50's. The way I do this is through 24 Hour Mountain Bike racing, riding solo and nowadays on a single speed bike.

I'm no stranger to 'digging deep' and confronting discomfort in sport. In fact, I made my living from it as a long course and IRONMAN distant triathlete (and coach) throughout the 1990's. And before that, I was a high school wrestler and Football player, sports which require full contact and the willingness and desire to endure discomfort at many levels. I guess I'm wired this way even now well past mid-life and a "weekend warrior" athlete.

The race I just finished, the 24 Hours of the Enchanted Forest by Zia Rides, takes place outside of Gallup, NM, based at the McGaffey Campground at around 8,000 feet above sea level. The idea is to race your bike for 24 hours and to do as many laps as you can in that timeframe. There are many divisions including several relays (i.e. one person rides a lap, then hands the baton to the next rider who rides, and so on), duo teams (2 people riding) and soloist (i.e. 1 person). I've ridden the solo division for several years now but take it a step further by riding the single-speed solo division. That means you can only have one-gear on your bike for the entire race.

The challenges in riding single-speed (SS) are many, but the main one is in terms of climbing and getting over technical and rocky sections. Momentum and power output are king in single-speed racing, as any delay in the pedal stroke when tackling a rocky and uphill section can mean unclipping fast to catch yourself or crashing. Also, the need to stand up out of the saddle constantly when riding SS puts a lot of extra stress on the lower back, quads and the knees.

As I mentioned earlier, my 'why' for challenging myself with this type of racing is to recalibrate and to stay grounded. I feel that in our society, it's so easy to become complacent and comfortable, which isn't how we grow. We grow from setting big goals, challenging ourselves to achieve them and pushing through the trials and tribulations to accomplish those goals.

Back to the race this weekend.

My training isn't ideally suited for 24 Hour Solo SS racing due to time constraints and a desire to do other things and to have balance in life overall. While back in my younger and prime racing days when I was vying for a podium spot at races I would train a ton and sacrifice a lot in the process, but nowadays as a family man, an executive coach with a busy practice and a man in my mid-50's with other interests, I care only to invest the minimum amount of time in my bike training. However, as a former endurance coach for many years, I do understand the physiology of training and I incorporate training program protocols to optimize my riding fitness with the least amount of time commitment. That means my preparation for this 24 hr event included only a few rides of up to 3 hours, and most rides of under 30 minutes (with short intense intervals), averaging between 4-5 hours of bike training per week. I also do two days of strength training, full body workouts that take about 45 minutes each. Overall, that's a low volume training program by any standard for ultra distance racing. I go with this strategy though because it prevents me from overtraining, increases the mental challenge on race day and gives me more time to enjoy other aspects of my life and achieve balance.

This past weekend in New Mexico was especially fulfilling. Five years ago I did this race as a solo / geared ride (not SS) and finished with 11 laps. Younger and much fitter at the time, I was fairly new to solo racing and less strategic in my approach. I attacked the race versus having a plan. I "blew up" and 'bonked', which means I went out too hard and faded to the point that I was almost incapacitated, limiting my laps. If you race, you know the feeling... the matches were all burned.

This year, my stated goal was to do 12 laps. I felt that this would be an extreme challenge due to aging (54 now vs. 49 then), training preparation and in riding the SS division.

I mentioned gratitude earlier. My area of most gratitude is that I get to engage my family in my racing experiences. My girlfriend and my daughters are my 'support crew', and do an absolutely amazing job of keeping me on track throughout the event. I literally don't think I could do this stuff without them being there supporting me throughout the race. It once again illustrates that we cannot be successful alone and that we all need to have a team of people to help us be successful both in business and in life.

Back to the race. It started at 11am on Saturday with temps already in the 90's. The course profile had us climbing around 1000 ft each loop, almost 14 miles per. I would describe the course as moderate to hard, with a fair amount of technical single track made more challenging with LOTS of rock gardens to ride through! And this a problem for me, and one of the reasons this race finish was so emotional and rewarding to me. I am terrible at technical riding, especially rocky single track.

Coming from a road / Triathlon bike background, I truly never developed great bike handing skills, even after 30+ years of competitive cycling, and I'm humbled by those riders who descend rocky and technical single track like they are riding down a smooth asphalt road. It's an amazing skill that I simply don't have. Therefore, I tend to crash frequently on technical sections where I try overcompensate for my skill level, and crashing is painful and potentially life changing. I have many scars to prove it, lol. This is yet another reason why I race... to stand on the edge of my comfort zone and attempt to overcome my fear. When I do, it feels so good. When I fail, it hurts.

During the first lap, everyone tends goes out too fast and burn a few matches. I'm guilty of it too, but this kind of endurance racing requires a different tactic. I kept telling myself to 'be the turtle' and not the Hare. (You know the fable.). Feeling good and fresh at hour one is very different to how you'll feel at hour 24.

The heat zapped many people, including me. Despite my best efforts to stay hydrated and fueled (including lots of electrolyte tablets and sports drinks), I was cramping like a champ. Cramps included the hands, and in mountain biking on technical rocky single track, you need strong hands to grip those bars. Mine were controlled by an evil demon at times who made them spasm uncontrollably making me unable to firmly grip the bars for minutes at time... a recipe for disaster on a MTB.

I was also diagnosed with mild Atrial Fibrillation (athlete's heart) a couple years ago. I try to maintain a lower heart rate as a result, which definitely impacts my power and speed on the bike both in terms of training preparation and on race day. Just another challenge to overcome.

To add more obstacle, my quads and calves were cramping hard as a result of jamming my single speed up the sharp steep climbs and from the dehydration. Again, not a good thing for a long day of endurance racing.

Around lap #3, I was thinking of calling it quits. I had already crashed two times (yes, I crash a lot and it sucks) and was feeling dehydrated, dead legged and demoralized. And I still have 20 hours of racing to go, yikes!

My crew, Joy (my amazing girlfriend), Hope and Chloe (my wonderful daughters) fed me a ton of needed food (burritos with eggs and rice, Tomato juice for the sodium, water and coke), encouraged me to keep going and just do another lap to see how I feel. Furthermore, they said, "Dad, as you always tell us....Rule #5!. If you don't know what that means, look it up here. That was enough to get me to stop my personal pity party and to get back on the bike for another lap.

Sometimes, we all need a little bit of encouragement and a kick in the ass from someone we care about to put us back in the right mindset.

The next lap was much better. I loaded up with fluids and electrolytes, moderated my effort in the heat and while still cramping, it wasn't quite as bad. I did take another spill (my second of five), but after cursing myself and getting back on the bike, laughed at myself and just accepted my fate to crash again. Interestingly, once you accept pain and suffering as normal and expected... it doesn't hurt or impact you as much.

When nighttime rolled around and we had to put on our lights to ride, I was on track to do my 12 laps. I went from wanting to quit a few hours earlier in the day to feeling that I could achieve my goal if I stayed on plan. I was focused on adopting the right mindset I needed to finish. Each passing lap and with each crazy technical section of the course, I told myself to just focus on NOW and not worry about anything else. I told myself there's NO PLACE I'd rather be at the moment than riding my bike and moving past each challenge on the trail.

At around 2 am, I was tired and my cognition and focus was fading. My laps were taking between 1 hour 40 minutes and 1 hour 45 minutes as riding at night slows things down, and I was preserving my energy and not taking too many risks. As you get tired in these races, in the darkness especially, it's easy to become sloppy on the trail and make mistakes by choosing the wrong line or hitting a fast downhill section the wrong way. I crashed pretty hard during one of my early morning laps, and it shook me up to be totally honest. Being maimed out on the dark trail in the mountains of NM where there's no cell phone or internet connection didn't seem like a good idea... so I dialed it back.

When I came in to refuel and rest for a few minutes after each lap, my awesome crew had my food and new lights charged up and ready to go. They had such a great attitude despite also being so tired...encouraging me to get out there and finish each lap while reminding me that I was tracking to achieving my goal. So grateful for them as they only go a couple hours of sleep that night supporting me.

When it started getting light out around 5:30 am, the mood changes among the solo riders. Night time can be a bit depressing, at least for me as it's usually cold (it got down into the low 50's), the danger of crashing is greater and the end of the race seems forever away. It's lonely out there on the trail too as many riders opt to sleep for a few hours in the early morning.

The morning light brings greater visibility, new energy and hope as there's just 5 or so more hours of suffering to endure. I felt very confident at this point that I could make my 12 laps with some time to spare as the race ended at 11 am! To make my motivation even greater, I was told I was in second place in the solo single speed division... and personal goals aside, there's nothing wrong with a chance to stand on the podium at the awards ceremony!

Damn, I crashed again on my 11th lap... hard. I got up, assessed if I had broken anything, then had to regroup and check the bike for damage. Nothing wrong with the bike, but another bad bruise and scrapes for me. I laughed it off again, cursing myself for being such a shitty bike handler but also feeling a sense of satisfaction for being a resilient and tough old crusty MF. (Thanks Mom and Dad). Rule #5!

I finished my 12th lap with my incredible team at the finish line to cheer me in! They were amazing, and I couldn't have done It without them. I could have possibly gone out and finished lap #13, as I technically had time, but was done done. With my goal of 12 laps accomplished, I was satisfied and ready to call it a day until the next race.

Reflecting back, I suffered to my limit that 24 hours and am very satisfied with my effort and meeting my goal of doing 12 laps, and ultimately placing 2nd in the Solo Single-speed division. Dehydration, severe cramping, 5 crashes and lots of high output effort throughout wore me down and beat me up, but I was able to persevere. Special congrats and respect to the many athletes who faced their fears, showed up and finished!

I push myself like this to stay grounded and in-touch with the power of resilience, the value of setting and pursuing difficult goals to push outside my comfort zone and in the need to be strategic in that pursuit.

These are all lessons for life, both personally and professionally that I hope you'll implement and deploy. Cultivate your power of resilience by setting challenging goals that scare you and then go after them with a well planned strategy, the willingness to take a beating and the fortitude to push through the tough times to reach the finish line.

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A dad, executive coach and outdoor adventurer, Troy Jacobson is the co-managing partner and executive coach for the 3-Pillars Performance Group and a Vistage CEO Chair. Learn more or reach out to him to schedule a time to talk about your performance optimization at [email protected] or https://calendly.com/tjacobsoncoaching/30min