Wilmington Whiteface and my First Season Mountain Biking.

As part of my training for the 2021 Trans Rockies Classic (a 7-day mountain bike stage race. From Fernie to Panorama), I wanted to experience what it was like to spend all day climbing on a mountain bike. Enter the Wilmington Whiteface 100km, my second race. This was a perfect mountain bike race for my novice level of experience, with more than 2700m total elevation gain mostly on gravel or paved roads, and a few short sections of not too technical single track.

Getting ready in the early morning before the race. We camped at Wilmington Notch campground not more than a 3 minute ride from the start line. I went to bed at 8pm the night before. Will had a beer with some fishermen camping near by.

About Wilmington Whiteface 

Wilmington is a qualifier for the legendary Leadville 100, a 100-mile race in the high altitude of  Leadville, Colorado. The belt buckle you get for finishing the race is a coveted prize for riders of all disciplines. It’s a lottery entry, but if you complete a qualifier race and finish under the designated time cap, you have a higher probability of winning a lottery entry. Wilmington is the qualifying race that is most similar to Leadville, but neither race should be approached lightly, and both attract some serious athletes. I only truly appreciated this watching a parking lot full of riders warm up on portable trainers they had hauled with them to the start line. (I didn’t sacrifice any extra sleep or energy warming up for this 100km journey, a likely rookie mistake). 

Ready to go!

The Race 

Lining up for the mass start was an interesting experience in rider diversity, including everything from gravel bikes, fat bikes, soft tails, hard tails and TANDEMS!, reiterating the wide range of riders this race attracts. The race starts with 10km of flat highway riding, allowing for drafting and people to work together. I stayed on the rear tire of a gentlemen obviously riding at a deliberate pace. He was clearly familiar with the race, and I was clearly going to exploit that familiarity and not work overly hard on the first section. 10km down no problem! 90 to go…

Then the climbing started (needless to say my free ride quickly dropped me). I can confirm I got the experience I was looking for because it felt like we never really stopped climbing. We climbed all day. 2700m of elevation is A LOT. And a few critical errors made this worse. First, I turned my Garmin GPS off in an attempt to save the battery. However, I neglected to consider that this would turn off my distance and elevation tracking, and none of the aid station volunteers knew where they were positioned along the course. Thus, I rode all day not knowing where I was on the course, or how much I had left to ride. I was unprepared for this mental challenge, as distance became an ambiguous measurement against time. The race was going to be over when it was over and that’s all I had to work with. I found some comfort in repeating a mantra cleverly coined by Doree in Finding Nemo ‘Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming, what do we do we swim…”.

Made obvious by the smile, this was taken at the finish line.

Onto the second big mistake and arguably the better lesson, race nutrition. My ride was fuelled by a combination of Gatorade and energy chews. I had previously consulted a sports nutritionist to establish a system, drink a big gulp of Gatorade every 15 minutes and a chew every 30 minutes. The target was 60-90g of cabs per hour, and as recommended, I practiced this system prior to race day. However, since I lacked race experience, I didn’t want to deviate from it at all. So rather than use any fuel supplied at the aid stations, I carried all my own fuel. In theory this seemed like the best option as the extra weight was negligible compared to the risk of experimenting with unknown fuel sources. I had pre-portioned Gatorade into single water bottle packages, which seemed logical. However, I didn’t often arrive at an aide station with empty bottles, so rather than dump the reminder of my drink and start fresh to ensure the ideal sports-drink concentration, I would add most of all of my pre-portioned packages to the existing fluid, often overly-concentrating the drink. This seemed harmless enough, after all, that could only improve my carb intake, right? WRONG! What I didn’t realize is the concentrations are established not only for taste, but for tolerance. Turns out overly concentrated energy drinks on an empty stomach functioning sub-optimally due to prolonged physical activity can give you INTENSE gut rot, which I experienced the entire last half of the race and the entire remainder of the day and night. It prevented me from being able to eat much of anything after the race or later that night for supper, and remained intense enough to keep me up at night (It finally stopped when I got out of bed to take two TUMS). As I lay awake that night in pain, thinking I’ll have to get this sorted out because I will need both a good post-race refuel system and quality sleep to complete a stage race, it didn’t occur to me it might be the energy drink concentration that was responsible for my agony.  A colleague of mine tipped me off to this likelihood a few days later. Though I can say the nutrition plan was good in theory, I didn’t run out of gas or cramp, and I never felt like I was out of energy. I could barely convince myself to drink the Gatorade for the last part of the race as it was causing quite a bit of pain, and I probably should have just stopped drinking it. Lessons learned from this, for future races I will contact the race coordinators and see what food and nutritional supplements they will be providing at the aide stations and train using those. Then I don’t have the carry everything for a long race, and all sports drinks will be properly mixed. As a final nutrition lesson, at times I wanted water so badly, just straight forward water, and I was carrying only sports drink. For future races I would make sure to have at least one bottle with fresh water. 

Despite all these challenges, I was happy enough with how the climbing went, and my extremely limited early season mountain biking experience was actually enough for me to be better than most of the people I was riding with. This race really is full of road racers (meaning I was quickly dropped once we left the single track). Although I would have considered myself to have a good general fitness going into this race, it was nowhere comparable to the years of riding in the legs of these athletes. Bike legs are a real thing and I need some serious time in a saddle to build them (for the sake of the upcoming Trans Rockies Classic, hopefully three years is reasonable). 

I can say for anyone interested in racing Wilmington, a full suspension mountain bike is not necessary, and the extra weight definitely slows you down, however, a gravel bike would likely slow you down on some of the precarious decent.  I have no idea how people were navigating the single track on a tandem. It would have been pretty interesting to watch. 

I did manage to cross the finish line well before the time cap for the Leadville lottery, though with no intention of entering it at this point in time. For the most part I really enjoyed the day. There was a uplifting network of locals out cheering on the riders. Considering it was a 100km course, it was surprising to see how much ground they covered. The town obviously loves this event and in general it was very well run. 

That evening it crossed my mind that I have no idea how I could ride another six consecutive days of that. But the next day I woke up and thought, yes, I could ride again today. Though that has yet to be proven, at least my brain thinks it’s possible.  The Trans Rockies Classic is still in the crosshairs. 

 What’s Up Next

This winter I am focusing on learning bike maintenance, as my fabulous bike mechanic has just quit to pursue a new career as a barber, and he has graciously agreed to teach me the trade.  I also plan on sorting out what I am going to do for altitude training, resume off season strength and high intensity interval training,  and start meditation to develop focus. Will and I also plan on doing our first mountain bike packing trip on the Old Ghost Road in New Zealand (stay tuned for a post ride report on this new type of adventure :). 

Trans Rockies Classic: My partner

My Trans Rockies Classis (TRC) partner could be a surprising choice to some of my close family and friends.  Let me present - my brother, Kevin Fahlman.  Kevin is a father of 3 (aged 4 and under), a business owner, an MBA graduate, a natural born athlete, unfathomably competitive, and something stubborn. He is also a carbon copy of our late father with his black and white opinions and cunning wit.  Though we rarely see eye-to-eye, he is the work horse that can drag me through this race, and I will be his anchor. 

My brother and I top of a ride in Canmore. The only ride we have completed together so far.

It’s hard to sum up the complexities of a sibling relationship with one short post, but a few well developed veins carry the blood of our relationship.  We are both competitive, edgy, opinionated, and have our father’s type A personality. Did I mention we are competitive? 

As a little sister I always wanted to be like Kevin. I wore his clothes, used his basketball number, followed him around, and mimicked his communication nuances.  But no matter how much I wanted to be like him, he drove me nuts.  We fought endlessly and I would go berserk.  I once threw a medallion at his head and split it wide open.  I would scream at him, and demanded recompense for the injustice of his relentless teasing. And relentless it was, continual some would say.  Our poor parents.

But it’s not because of our solid history of companionship that I want Kevin as my TRC partner.  Nor is it because we have a great history of teamwork.  I distinctly remember one time we were helping our dad renovate the house. We were in the attic tasked with drilling a hole to run some wires.  We were of course arguing viciously and missed the target, drilling a hole right through the kitchen wall.  Dad was thoroughly unimpressed with us though it was quite obviously Kevin’s fault, because unfortunately for him, he was left holding the drill :).

Kevin can be given at least partial credit for influencing my passion for athletics. He was always quite the athlete himself, and when we played head-to-head he never held back.  I earned every point I scored against him. He encouraged me to be strong, to play strong. In all my years of competitive sports, only once did I ever cry on the court. I was having a bad game and I let my emotions get the better of me. Kevin was watching that game. He didn’t try to comfort me, or let me make excuses for my lousy play, but instead told me to toughen up and get control over myself.  He was embarrassed for me. Hearing that, I was embarrassed for myself.  I never broke down on the court again, or in any competition since.  This started my interest in the link between mental tenacity and physical performance. 

Since those years we have both grown, matured, moved around the country, completed Masters level educations, owned businesses, and started families.  Yet here we are much the same, as competitive with each other as we are with ourselves. Taking a firm stance with often opposite opinions, and still quick point out when we are better at something than the other.   We push ourselves, push each other, and if we fall, we would be the first to point out what the other did wrong while helping them up.  But there is no question we will be there to help each other back to our feet, to stand behind each other through hard times, hard choices, and hard lessons. Because family comes first… always.

Kevin, his riding partner, and our parents celebrating a successful 2008 TRC completion.

The last project Kevin and I worked on together was writing our dad’s eulogy, along with our older brother Michael. This was no easy undertaking in composition or delivery. We fought, laughed, cried, gave up, regrouped, and persevered. Though not the glue that binds our family together (that’s arguably Michael), dad was the head of our family, and his death left a massive hole in me and my two brothers.  Ultimately, we stood strong together and delivered one final tribute to our father.

My dad waiting for Kevin to come in from a stage at his last Trans Rockies Classic race.

Kevin has raced the TRC before.  Though I will undoubtedly be more prepared for the race, he is the self proclaimed ‘Team Captain.’ Anyone that knows us both would agree this is the right allocation of roles.  Kevin is a natural leader.  Not a motivator as I tend to be, but more a ‘I’m better than you at this and everything else so you might as well just follow me and do what I say’ sort of leader.  And somehow he’s typically right.  He’s always been this way. Naturally talented at most things he tries, particularly athletics, and often with way little effort than the average person.  He’s fearless on a mountain bike, and stubborn.  Though I may match his stubbornness, I am no match for his mental strength and experience, both of which I will certainly rely on to successfully complete the TRC. I will confidently and blindly follow his lead, with full trust in his direction (literally following his line). 

The last time Kevin completed this race our parents traveled with him as support crew, pulling their 5th wheel trailer as he’ glamped’ his way through the stages.  This time it will be my husband Will pulling the trailer with my mother as his co-pilot (to my disappointment Kevin doesn’t share my affinity for sleeping outdoors, and refuses to tent).

Kevin’s TRC accommodation.

Where everyone else stayed.

I am thrilled about completing this adventure with my family, as Kevin and I grind our way from Fernie to Panorama.  Our dad was not a man of many words, but he had one consistent message of guidance.  After every conversation he would remind us to ‘keep pushing the boulder up the hill.’  His message: the struggle is real, but you have to keep going.   How else would you describe the 550km and 15,000 meters of elevation that is the TRC?

Incase there was any doubt in my attachment to the fable, I had the girl pushing the boulder up a hill tattooed as a memorial piece after my father passed.

I can already picture my dad shaking his head as we argue our way through the seven stages, pushing our mental and physical limits, and our tolerance of each other through the ruggedly beautiful Canadian Rockies. In my opinion there is no better metaphor for my relationship with Kevin.  How fitting to complete this race with him at my side (or more realistically slightly in-front of me). 

Trans Rockies Classic (TRC): Start with Why

If you’ve read Simon Sinek’s Start With Why, you’ll understand the importance of nourishing the ‘Why’ that upholds any new undertaking. The ‘Why’ is your purpose, your drive, your reason for pushing forward in the face of adversity, and your reminder of what inspired you to begin the journey.  This is my TRC ‘Why’. 

If you missed my last blog, the Trans Rockies Classic: My next BHAG, I am training to complete a seven day mountain biking stage race from Fernie to Panorama, British Columbia. This is one of the hardest mountain biking races in the world; a true in this test of one’s mental and physical limits.

‘Your brain and body are fundamentally interwound and to understand your limits under any particular set of circumstances, you have to consider them both together” 

                                - Samuele Marcora. Quote taken from Endure by Alex Hutchinson 

My father’s final advice to me was ‘Just be you. You be you and that’s all you can be.’ At the time I couldn’t comprehend how invaluable this statement truly is. I have spent the last three years learning who I am and how to nourish my strengths. I’m competitive, focused, driven, and I love to achieve a goal. I love my family, the outdoors, and being active. This race encompasses everything that excites me about life.

I have a nerdy pastime of studying the complex interactions of the mind and body, and love exploring how our psychology influences our physiological limits.  I first began observing these interactions in my own performance during a recent three year obsession with CrossFit. I learned that it is ok to push yourself to the edge of exhaustion during activity; how to deal with that pain, and that my perception of the pain would create the boundaries of my performance.  In a race like the TRC, it is guaranteed you will suffer.  It will require both mental and physical strength to push through seven days of relentless climbing, while maintaining a base level of focus and precision to navigate the technical terrain in some of the most beautiful backcountry Canada has to offer. Though the contributions of the mind and body to human performance are widely debated, I find the challenge of improving mental tenacity along with physical performance a surprisingly appealing journey in personal growth.

Another nerdy little secret of mine is that I love learning. I would have been a professional student if it paid. This is another reason the TRC became an appealing target.  Mountain biking is basically an entirely new skill for me to learn, understand, and develop. It is an intricate blend of physical fitness, balance, agility, coordination, decision-making, and focus.  Learning to use my bike as a tool to conquer technical ascents and single track downhills will be a challenge to say the least, and one that I will need to devote the most time to.  Though during the race I always have the option to get off and ‘hike-a-bike’ through the technical terrain, I want to be able to ride as much as possible, and to do that, I have a lot to learn about bike control. Even though we are currently in the off season, I am already searching and gathering a network of experienced riders that will help me develop my skills and set my expectations. 

In my time as a CrossFit junkie, I learned that physical anguish is better in company.  This is why I am completing the TRC side-by-side with my brother, Kevin. Misery really does love company, and the two of us will hold nothing back and push each (and each other’s buttons!), putting our childhood coloured with competition and sibling rivalry to the ultimate test.  I’ll cover more on Kevin, and why we will make the best team, and the worst team, in my next TRC blog. 

The final aspect that makes the TRC appealing is the terrain.  The Canadian Rockies, though not where I was born, has always been a place I feel at home.  I love their rugged beauty, and just the thought of experiencing seven days exploring backcountry terrain on a bike makes me smile.  I am really excited to shift part of my exercise regime back to an outdoor sport, especially one that takes me to one of my favourite places on the planet, and one of the best features Canada has to offer, the Rocky Mountains.  

Considering all that encompasses the TRC in both training and execution, it seems like a perfect fit.  This goal combines all of the unique qualities that define me: physical fitness, mental strength, competition, team work, family, learning new skills, growing and developing a community, and a passion for the outdoors. I will be posting about my training, network, team, support systems, and the lessons learned as I progress towards this goal.  Feel free to follow along as the saga unfolds.