Mountain Extreme Triathlon

Story & Pictures by Robert Przykucki

Some time ago, the very first mountain bike iron distance triathlon took place. Susie Grant, John Thompson and I were part of this inaugural group. This race was very low key and everybody there seemed to be very relaxed for what we were all about to experience. I had logged many hours of suffering in my triathlon career but what I was about to enter into was completely over the top. This experience was about to put me through the ultimate test.

The Swim:
Not too much to tell here. I thought this was going to be difficult since I don’t really swim that often. The last time I had swam before this race was two weeks prior in Oregon at the Pacific Crest Triathlon.

Before the swim, the national anthem was sung and some skydivers dropped out of the sky right smack dab in the middle of T1. This scared the crap out of me. I thought two of the guys were going to land on a car. It was really sketchy to say the least. If the race promoters didn’t consider safety for the starting ceremony, what else didn’t they consider?

(The parachute dudes landed in the middle of T1! These guys were crazier than the racers! A nice start to an epic day ahead.)

 

I slogged out a 1:18 (1 hour, 18 minutes: 2.4 mile swim) something on the swim. I believe that the course was a little long. Susie Grant did a 1:05 so the course was definitely long.

 

(Susie coming out of the water. 1:05)

 

The Bike (No motor here):

(Steelman makes a “badass” mountain bike! Thanks Brent!)

Let’s just say that this is where it all starts to break down. I passed Susie on the bike within the first 3 miles. Based on that, I knew that this was going to be an extremely punishing day for her in the saddle. I still had illusions that I was going to have a manageable day on the bike. I figured that the course would have some technical sections, but again, mountain biking is my strength.

 

(Initial climb out of the lake. The “real climbing” starts 4 miles later.)

 

4 miles later, we are climbing this brutal switch back up a ski run. It was relentless. It just kept on going. We then proceeded to hit a section of single track called “tour de suds”. This was a very technical single track section consisting of knuckle sized rocks and a few log crossings here and there. This was challenging terrain. Again, we are still climbing.

(I don’t know who this is but check the trail! Cool stuff. This may be the “Tour de Suds trail I mentioned.)

 

We then proceeded to climb straight up the face of a ski slope. I immediately hopped off my bike and started walking.

 

We then proceeded back onto a single track climb. I started to think about food and liquid consumption. I had been drinking a lot of fluid up to this point. I stopped to eat a Clif bar and squeezed in a Clif shot. I then felt really ill. I tried to focus on something relaxing and positive (Ahh, sunbathing on a beach). That didn’t work. I then lifted my arms over my head and shut my eyes praying that I wouldn’t hurl. Then I hurled all over an unassuming bush. I thought to myself, now you did it. This is the beginning of major dehydration. I forced myself to relax and started to ride again. Finally, I had reached the top of the climb.

 

We were now to proceed to the mid mountain trail. I had envisioned this trail as being fairly easy before the race. Reality changed that misconception quickly. This trail consisted of major rocks. These rocks were specifically engineered to provide many years of pinch flats. Fortunately I was running a tubeless tire system so I was good to go. I was passing many riders in this section since it was so technical. I came up to a pro who rode for SoBe and we were dicing it up for several minutes. He then pulled to the side to let me by. He was picking great lines so I was bummed that he let me by. I then came around a sharp right and I crashed. He then passed me. I was content to stay behind him about 10 feet for the rest of this section. Again, all I could think about here was how Susie was going to hate this section. I felt bad because the only ride that she had to prepare herself for this was the Tahoe Rim Trail. One day on the rim trail is not enough though. You need years of experience to ride this type of terrain well. This trail seemed to go on forever. We finally got to the end. This was at mile 30 or so and my watch said I had been on the course for 3.5 hours or so. I’m starting to realize that this is going to be tough.

(Somewhere on the “Mid Mountain” trails.)

 

We cruised down a ski slope all the way back to downtown Park City. We passed some amazing resorts along the way. Some people really have the life. “Joe Fatstack” is sitting in his 8 million dollar chalet while I’m out here busting my ass on this stupid race. Things like this run through your mind when you start losing focus.

 

(Cruising down off the mountain. Finally! There were several water bars on this road that popped you into the air momentarily. Woo Hoo!)

 

I got to the next aid station (the white barn) and just laid in the grass for 10 minutes or so. I am realizing that I am not taking in enough fluids. I seem to be drinking a lot but I haven’t gone to the bathroom yet and I am getting concerned. The temperature is climbing rapidly now. It seems to be around 90 degrees or so.

 

I proceed onto to a couple of trails and I got lost. Someone removed the course marking and I proceeded to goof off for 45 minutes or so. I ran into Mr. SoBe Pro again and he was cursing up a storm with remarks like, “This F’n sucks, it’s F’n hot out here, these dickheads didn’t mark the course correctly, F it, I’m turning back”. Pretty dang funny. We were all suffering and we were so early in the race. This guy should have been bummed, he was a really good rider. He rode with an extremely high cadence (“Spin to Win”) and you could spin a plate on his head. He would make up a lot of time later as I recall.

 

Finally we were back on course. We took a 2 mile stretch of pavement to our next section of single track bliss. This thing was a pain. Dust, rocks, and Manzanita for as long as you could see. We had around 1000 feet of climbing here too. Very technical and VERY HOT. It’s now around 95. I saw the second loop marker, 101 miles, and felt an intense feeling of dread. I had only traveled 40 miles and it is like 12:30 or so. Am I going to finish this thing? Good God, the heat!

 

(Hating Life! Just coming in from the 1^st loop. It’s over 90 degrees at this point.)

 

(Why am I doing this? Whose idea was this? What’s my name again?)

(Whatever...)

 

At mile 40 or so my wife Carol and friends met me with lunch prepared. Susie’s friend Jeff had hot dogs prepared for us for lunch. (What a lifesaver! Thanks Jeff!!!!!) They were a nice change from Gu and vomit inducing crap bars. After that I proceeded 4 miles back to T2 and then back. By this time, I had lost it completely. My bottom lip is quivering and I don’t want to continue (“Oh you F’n Wussy, you better not be crying!” remark went through my head). I have to do a 50 mile out and back and it is hotter than hell now. I eventually leave and proceed onto the next section of hell.

(Leaving to proceed onto the Rail Trail. That is not a smile on my face!)

 

This section of the course is on the trans-continental rail road, a major civil engineering accomplishment of the 1800s. This thing was completely level. It was amazing how gradual the grade was on this. You could calibrate a level on this grade. As level as this was though, the temperatures were now hovering in the mid to high 90’s.

 

(The Rail Trail. Lovely Huh? 50+ miles of this!)

 

Now I’m hating life and I am starting to see some of the pros coming back in on the bike. How do these guys/gals do it? I’ll never figure this aspect of endurance racing out. It’s one of the 7 marvels of the world. How do you go so fast for so long? Years of experience grasshopper, just get your ass moving and quit worrying about them!

 

Somewhere around mile 60 something….. American History X or Leaving Las Vegas? Hmmm (pause), which rape scene describes how bad my ass is hurting right now? Holy freakin cow! I can’t sit down anymore. Why did I forget to put “Chamois Butt’r” in my shorts? Why!? Note to self: Don’t ever forget that again!

 

I finally reached the end of the line, the 78 mile mark. I completely broke down here. I threw my bike down, got into a chair, and had to rethink this whole thing. The support gals were awesome. They tossed a couple of bags of ice on me and I drank 6 water bottles of something nasty. I took 4 salt tablets and ate some bars. I sat here for an hour trying to inspire myself to continue.

 

Oh yeah, did I mention that a couple of people came through here smiling saying how freakin great they felt. Apparently they were giving athletes IV’s and letting them finish the race. This really pissed me off. Nothing like pushing the reset button ½ way through the race. What a bunch of crap! So much for following USAT rules. Cheating sons a bitches!

 

Finally I got up and rode out. I let about 7 lbs of pressure out of my tires and this seemed to help my ride out a lot. I caught up to this gal Laura from LA who got me back into the race. She was an adventure racer and had done several eco challenges. We started to swap stories and the miles were peeling off. She was a little slower than I was but I realized that forcing myself to slow down actually increased my pace considerably. There were so many people who passed us but eventually we would see these people in an aid station dying while we kept on trucking. She forced me to drink several times followed by a lecture. This really passed the time. She was hurting too but she had a way of staying really positive despite all of the pain. I think that is a trait of these endurance freaks.

 

We then returned to that 1000 foot climb in the bush. Carol, Ed, and Susie were there to cheer me on. This really helped a lot. I climbed the hill and rocked back to T2. I arrived there around 8:30 PM or so. My bike split was over 13 hours. Not what I had planned for but it is what it is. I changed into my run clothes and ate another hot dog and drank some soup. I was not going to be able to run this thing. I was thinking that I could walk 26 miles in 6 hours. Boy was I wrong!

 

(Proceeding back to the 101 mile marker. This is a switchback climb that is fairly technical. Laura, the adventure racer, is behind me.)

 

The Run:

Ok let me start out by saying that these race directors are evil people. 3 miles up a ski slope? You’ve got to be kidding me! It took an hour to do this. Cool, only 10 more (for the first of 2 loops). Crap!

 

I then walked back down into Park City. We traversed down some of the single track we climbed during the morning mountain bike ride. Boy, I’m glad I’m on the run! I then reached some pavement and sidewalks. I walked by some teenaged kids who were makings some punk remarks. “Pardon me dickheads, but which one of you needs his ass kicked first?” I just laughed when I thought of saying this. I kept on moving.

 

Not too much happened on the run. It just took forever, especially the off road sections. I couldn’t see and the terrain was so uneven. You could roll your ankle at every step.

 

When I finally got back to T2 to start the second loop, I was done. Screw this race. Congratulations race directors, you did it! I’m angry and tired and bored out of my skull. There is nothing I can do to break up the monotony of this walk from hell.

 

Carol (my always positive wife), Susie, and Ed swarmed me and fed me a bunch of crap about how I needed to go out there and finish this thing. Blah, blah, blah was all I was hearing. I tried to describe how much this run sucked and that I would go crazy if I went back out there. They then pulled the trump card and said that they would all go out there on the second loop. Hmm, now that is an idea. Company! Boy I really needed some company out there. I was going out of my skull on that last loop.

 

I think they were impressed with the first climb. I was in front trying to maintain a decent pace. We were all talking, laughing and having fun. I was starting to wonder how JT was doing. I heard that he just made the cutoff. How amazing is that? That was a tough ride. I think it was harder than the death ride and it was sandwiched between a swim and run (in my case, a walk).

 

(This is what I remember from the run.)

 

This loop lasted forever and I felt bad that I couldn’t run this thing. None of us were used to walking and we were all aching. We were all in the race together.

 

We finally made it back to where we could see the finish line. I was really aching now. Every step sent shock waves into my aching legs. I eventually crossed the finish line. This was indeed a rewarding experience. The sun was coming back up. A day earlier I was going down to the starting line. 23 hours and 16 minutes. Not a very good time, but I finished. It took everything I had to finish.

 

I decided to wait for John to come in. I didn’t have to wait long. He was running in. He made up a lot of time on the run to finish. His wife, Kristin, ran the whole 26 miles with him. That was the highpoint of the race. What a stud. This guy gutted it out and did it.

(John crossing the finish line near death. He wants to do this race again! Nice Farmer Tan on the legs.)

 

 

Things I would do differently on the next MXT:

 

1. Ride more miles at altitude.
2. Knowing the course, ingest more liquid nutrients on the first ¼ of the race. Save the Clif bars for the flats.
3. Ride the technical section with 32  psi vs. 40. If you have tubeless tires, use them!
4. DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! You cannot drink enough fluids with 90+ degree heat and altitude. Utah is VERY dry too. Humidity is around 10%. The environment is a huge sponge.
5. Try to stay positive. If you are going to finish the race, you might as well try to enjoy it. You are going to be out there for a long time.
6. DRINK!
7. More interval training. This pays huge dividends on difficult courses. One day/week should be dedicated to interval training on the bike. 30 seconds on, 30 seconds off. Mountain biking is very anaerobic.

 

My support crew was spectacular. They were out there all day long cheering us on. You cannot do this race without a support crew. I wouldn’t change a thing there.
 

I hope you consider this race. It is very difficult. Words can’t describe the hell you go through out there. Despite all of the suffering, I have some great memories of the hardest day of my life. Now it’s time to ride that motorized 2Wheeler!

 

2WheelTimes.com want to say thanks to Rob, for this great story on fitness and the power of mind over body. We meet Rob riding dirt bikes during one of our adventures in NorCal, Rob and his riding buddies are fantastic riders and can roost with the best of them. Here is a picture of Rob during one of our motorized 2Wheel rides.