I can't thank you enough for all that you and your team did to make it possible for my son, Chris Anderson (#325) to finish and win a beautiful trophy. The noise from the banquet crowd and clapping when he crossed the finish line was priceless to us. Thanks for everything.
Chuck Anderson
I'll see ya next year for sure. Next year I'll finish the damn thing as well.
Thank You,
Erick Armentrout
What a great time and super event. Thanks to Dan and all of the volunteers who spent hours and hours of their time to put on a wonderful event. To the sponosors who were there to make this event happen. Our helmets are off to you all for allowing us riders a safe and fun weekend.
Thanks to the great Chuckwagon who served the best hamburger and fries that I've ever had in a long time. Nothing beats a great hamburger after 500 miles on the bike! Also, thanks to the New Hope volunteers for a great dinner too.
What a great weekend to spend on the bike, meet new friends and hang out with old ones.
Awesome website, Jorge!
Brenda Barnell
Thanks for a great event. Enjoyed the officials, volunteers, cheerleaders and my fellow riders very much. The course was a challenge - everything I'd imagined and more. One of these days maybe I'll ride to get to RAAM. I appreciate all you and your crew did to accomplish all that you did!
Micah Bicker
Thank you for hosting such a fun and well-organized event. I have told my biking buds here in Fredericksburg, it can best be described as a cycling Woodstock. My wife Maureen and I are already talking about next year. Thank you and your many volunteers again for your tremendous hard work and kindness shown to us.
Johnny Boswell
Here is a piece I wrote for my website. It's a bit lengthy at just over 4,000 words, but there seemed to be a lot to tell.
I hope some of you find it interesting or entertaining. Most of all, I hope it inspires others to find an event like I did in the Tejas 500 that stretches their imagination and pushes the limits of what they think is possible.
Tejas 500 - by Matt Cazalas
Walking the Walk
The past several years have usually found me at races behind the scene rather
than making one. My typical race day gear has mutated from swim goggles,
bike and running shoes to camera and keyboard. This has not been an
unpleasant transformation. On the contrary, journalism provides it's
own unique rewards. But since being ignited nearly twenty years ago,
my competitive fire for endurance sports has remained lit. It's just
that during the last five years it's been more of a quietly burning
pilot light than the blast furnace it once resembled.
Writing for the website and magazine as I do, I find myself exhorting others
to push their bounds, find new challenges, and occasionally take the
big risk by putting it all on the line in a life-altering, epic endeavor.
The failure, I once recall preaching, lies not in the DNF, but in the
DNS. Admittedly, talking the talk is easy. The problem contained therein
is that its resonance quickly fades if you don't openly apply the theory
to your own life. I confess that for an endurance sports junkie like
me, that's really not been a issue. In my way I'll stand up and walk
the walk.
 Vicious Cycle
Ultra-distance cycling wheeled its way into my life by way of two avenues. First, it
was exposure to the sport's ultimate event, Race Across America. RAAM
has brushed closely by the St. Louis Metro area for several years which
enabled me to follow the racers and interact with their support crews.
Added to the mix was a local Brevet Series offering rides that started
at 200k, which to that point was more miles than I had ridden at one
time. Well that ride led to a 300k. It stairstepped to 400k which in
turn led me to 12 and 24-hour racing. The inexorable progression toward
greater and greater challenges on the bike continued unabated. Then,
like a night beacon, appeared the Tejas 500 in Cleburne, Texas. The
combination of its formidable distance and the convenience of family
situated in nearby north Dallas drew me much as a Missouri moth.
I became aware of the event in 2005. Unable to make the starting line
that year, the race relentlessly occupied a part of my mind for the
next twelve months. I spent 2006 building a solid base by riding more
miles than I had in any previous calendar year. If there was an errand
to perform, I often rode to it. My Civic Hybrid, as stingy as it is
with gas, sat while the wheels on my bikes turned. If I saddled up,
it became the exception for me to ride anything less than 50 miles.
Riding two centuries on the weekend and peppering the weekdays with
60-milers became commonplace and 300-400 mile weeks were the norm for
most of the summer.
The summer of '06 merged into fall and raceday edged ever closer. With it,
the reality of what I was about to undertake began to shake my senses
with 5.0 magnitude. Questions began popping up like so many autumn bulbs.
Could I really ride that far? Should I go with the the 36-hour start?
What about sleep? How do I prevent saddle sores? How can I efficiently
self-support? And on and on. The thought process may have been tinged
with a hue of doubt, but I believed it was mostly a matter of thinking
through the contingencies and formulating a sound race plan, given that
this was new territory for me.
I decided that the wisest course of action was to take the lessons learned
in my 24-racing, add newly found, relevant information, then tack on
12-hours. The way I looked at it, this was simply a matter of adequate training, task-appropriate
equipment, and a sound nutrition, hydration, & electrolyte plan.
As for the training, my long ride didn't approach anything close to 200
miles much less 500, but I what I lacked in single day miles I more
than compensated for in weekly volume. I believed that coupled
with a strong motivation to earn the RAAM qualifier's plaque would see
me to the finish. Based upon last year's finish times, I knew that if
I could come in within the 36-hour cutoff, that should earn me the RAAM
plaque. Still, a nagging voice in the back of my mind kept wondering
how I'd feel at 300 or 400 miles and how I'd fare with no sleep.
My equipment needs revolved mostly around bike lights and apparel. Website
sponsor, Momentum Cycles became my "official" bike sponsor
for the race and set me up with new tires, tubes, CO2, and a taillight.
I owned all the necessary head lamps and with new batteries they were
set for thirty hours, more than enough. It occurred to me that the rural
nature of the course would make for very dark night riding so I thought
I'd have some fun and place blue Tire Flies on my valve stems. These
small bulbs light up brightly when the wheels spin and create a circle
of light. After placing my Javelin in the workstand and darkening the
room, a few turns of the crankarms were all I needed. I couldn't wait
to use these things.
I thought through the exigencies of thirty-six continuous hours of exposure
and kept one eye on the race day forecast —
low in the 40's, high in the mid-70's. Both cold-weather gear and warm-weather gear would
be necessary. The forecast was clear but I would have still felt better
bringing rain gear.
Nutrition- Applying the simple equation of 350 calories per hour x 36-hours yielded
12,600 calories. That's a lot of tacos. I began amassing a surplus of
food to which I added four 1-gallon jugs of water.
| Food |
Servings |
Calories |
Total |
| Top Care Nutritional Supplement (liquid) 8oz cans |
10 |
350 |
3500 |
| Clif Bars |
4 |
250 |
1000 |
| Fig Bars |
48 |
75 |
3600 |
| Bananas |
8 |
100 |
800 |
| Kashi Trail Mix Bars |
6 |
140 |
840 |
| Starbucks Cappuccino (bottled) |
2 |
250 |
500 |
| Jug of Hammer Gel |
26 |
90 |
2340 |
| Bowls of pasta salad |
2 |
400 |
800 |
| Bowls of spaghetti and red sauce |
2 |
500 |
1000 |
|
14300 |
I knew I wouldn't or most likely couldn't consume all of it, but at least
I'd have enough nutrition. The nearest store was twelve miles away and
we wouldn't be riding past it. Literally translated, tejas means roofing
tiles. Much like those neatly arrayed rows of clay tiles atop a Spanish
home, I felt my game plan was watertight.
Get Your Tejass Moving
The 600-mile drive to Dallas would be an easy shot down Hwy 44 to Hwy 75/69.
I jumped on Hwy. 44 at Hwy. 109 and zeroed the trip meter on my dash.
Five-hundred miles later, when I had finally reached a point somewhere
in north Texas, the enormity of the task upon which I was about to embark
struck me like a ton of adobe. I was going to pedal nearly as far as
I would drive to my homestay. Unreal. At that point I started having
serious reservations and regretted having informed friends and family
about my proposed endeavor. I feared looking like el tonto burro.
Then my fears put additional spin on the situation when I figured that
my friends racing at Ironman the same weekend would only be on
the course for 10-14 hours, not upwards of 36. I plunged my hand into
the bag of pretzels in the opposite seat, watched large raindrops begin
smacking my windshield, and sighed
After virtually an all-night drive, I landed very early Thursday morning in
a warm and comfortable bed at my sister and brother-in-law's house in
Plano, Texas. The scheduled start time for the 36-hour group was 5:30am
on Friday, so I had all day Thursday to relax, recover from the drive,
and eat. I needed to pick up my packet and set up my transition area
on Thursday as well. It made more sense to camp out at the race site
Thursday night rather than drive the 80-miles to it at an ungodly early
hour Friday morning. One thing led to another and before I knew it I
was racing the sinking sun to Cleburne, Texas. The thermometer seemed
to be falling just as rapidly. Overnight it would touch the low 40's.
I reached the transition area well after sunset and parked the loaded
down Ford Xtracab. I picked up my packet and registered for a one-day
UMCA license. Returning to the truck, I began to drag the tent out of
the bed until a voice in the darkness behind me bellowed, "Don't
camp right there— fire ants." No wonder this spot was open.
I moved to another area and started over. Never having owned a tent,
I found the whole process of erecting one overwhelming. I was cold,
tired, and frustrated. My energy was better spent preparing my nutrition
and bike for the morning start only seven hours hence. So I dropped
the tailgate and went to work on my makeshift kitchen counter. After
an hour or so, everything was completed and neatly arranged. It was
11:30pm, time for the 42-hour start in the Tejas 500. The riders went
off with little or no fanfare. I grabbed the sleeping bag, blanket,
and pillow then went to sleep in the back seat of the truck. In retrospect,
it was cozier than anything the cold ground would have offered anyway.
I awoke with a start and sat straight up to peer though the fogged truck
windows. All my bleary eyes could make out were the flashing lights
of the start/finish line and the fireplace ablaze in the pavilion. The
dashboard clock illuminated with a digital 3am. The occasional 48 and
42-hour racer rolled through transition, white headlights cutting through
the darkness and fog. With my cell phone unable to find service, I couldn't
set its alarm to wake me, but I put my head back down and fell asleep
once again anyway.
This time it was headlights and the crunch of gravel by vehicles making their
way into the campsite/transition-area that brought me back to consciousness.
I saw that they were racers arriving for the 5:30am start and then knew
it was time to get up. Yep, 5am the dashboard confirmed. I wrestled
into my cycling gear, making certain to apply a generous portion of
chamois creme to my cycling bibs before pulling them up. I might as
well have put an ice cube in them. I was fully equipped— booties,
fingered gloves, base lining, jersey, jacket, knee warmers, doo rag.
The thirty-minutes quickly evaporated, then I heard the callout for
the 36-hour start. After a headcount and few brief instructions, we
received a short countdown and were sent rolling
Are You Feeling Loopy Yet?
The route was a 20-mile circuit we were to circumnavigate 25 times. I felt
I could process it more easily by counting laps and thinking in terms
of hours. The lap was what it was, I'd simply do twenty-five of them—
five sets of five. The course elevation profile showed 860 feet of climbing
per lap. That equated to 4-miles of vertical gain to the finish line.
With 35,000 feet of climbing in seven days out in Utah under my belt,
Texas Hill country wasn't going to intimidate me. Anyway, the climbing
would give me plenty of occasion to get up and out of the saddle, and
that would likely be a welcome relief.
The start was fast— too fast. A pace vehicle accompanied us for the
first lap, but it and the riders hammering well over 20mph behind it
were soon out of sight, their red taillights fading into the pitch blackness
ahead. The cold air swept past my face and my fingers were already beginning
to ache. I rode a little faster than planned just to warm up. We passed
the dusty surroundings of a lime quarry and headed northeast up a long
steady climb. The road here was four-laned chip and seal with an eight
foot shoulder. The sweet spot, we quickly learned, was the right side
tire track worn smooth over time by ten of thousands of vehicles. We
would ride it until we heard a vehicle approach from behind at which
point we'd slide over to the rougher shoulder, let it pass, then move
back.
 The
loop only had two turns and we soon made the first right-one after cresting
the long climb. Flashing red lights conveniently indicated where we
were to turn onto Rte 1224. This two-mile stretch connected the two
longer, roughly parallel legs of the course. It was very dark due the
lack of street lights and canopy of trees we often found ourselves riding
beneath. A heavy dew had fogged my clear lenses and my dual headlights
only shone about 20 feet ahead. I found myself riding alone, trying
to keep a straight line and hoping to ride up on another cyclist. The
second right-turn was ahead somewhere but no flashing lights appeared
to indicate where. Suddenly I was bouncing downhill. I had ridden through
the T-intersection and off the other side of the road. I laid the bike
down with a thud in the grass before I struck anything solid. Shaken
and definitely stirred, I clambered back up to the road, remounted,
and joined a well-illuminated cyclist who was just passing. I made certain
to let another rider light the road for me all the way back to transition.
Lap two brought with it dawn. The sunrise was a spectacular sight wrapping
itself nearly 180° around the vast horizon. Its light and warmth
were morale boosters, a stark contrast from my tentative, cold lap in
the pre-dawn. I reached the site at which I had overshot the road the
lap before and made note of the barbed wire fence I had unknowingly
and narrowly averted
A Long Day's Journey Into Night
After gaining a sense for what kind of lap time I could manage, my pacing
plan became simplified— knock off as close to 6-hour centuries
as I could. That meant shooting for 1:12:00 laps. Mathematically, I
could do 7-hour centuries and still get under the 36-hour cutoff with
one hour to spare, for sleep if necessary. I figured for every 6-hour
100-miler I rode, I was banking one hour of sleep time. The whole sleep
issue was one I still hadn't come to grips with yet though. If I rode
myself to exhaustion at, say 400 miles, and laid down, would I sleep
through the finish? Would someone wake me? My goal was to ride all the
way through without sleep. That's why I brought the Starbucks. I had
heard about guys falling asleep on the bike before. I guess I'd see
if I'd do likewise. This may get interesting.
The next twelve daylight hours would be spent becoming intimately acquainted
with the 20.01 miles of pavement I went round and round upon. There
were four potholes and five dogs to avoid. There was also a steady procession
of 18-wheelers. Most of the drivers gave berth to cyclists, some did
not. To the one who brushed by me at a very high speed on shoulderless
Route 1434, I wished a slow and painful death. It truly frightened me
and was totally unnecessary. I envisioned being sucked under its wheels
as I death-gripped my handle bars and tried to hold line. That experience
occurred early on in the event and a vivid memory of it remained front
and center in my mind throughout the race. Strangely, on that same stretch
of road, some slavish industrial machinery worked 24/7 just off the
roadside. It emitted a very deep drone that exactly resembled the sound
of an approaching 18-wheeler. Twenty-five times I passed that sound
and twenty-five times my heart rate rose as I looked behind me.
My plan was to minimize the number of stops I made. Since I didn't have
the luxury of a support crew, I was forced to get off the bike for calories
and hydration. I determined that three-lap (60 mile) increments would
work well. My nutrition plan called for consuming 350 calories and 20
ounces of fluid per lap. Two 24oz water bottles and three 8oz cans of
liquid nutrition supplement easily allotted me that distance, fluid-wise.
Calories were not hard to manage. Lap after lap I rode, always making
certain to eat bars, bananas, gels, or cookies. By noon I had 100 miles
under my belt and by dinner time another 100. I had eaten pretty much
nonstop all day. I occasionally reached down to touch my stomach, half-expecting
to feel it bloated and distended. That was hardly the case as my body
had shifted into a major fat burn mode, taking with it all the carbohydrates
I ingested.
 The
daylight hours also allowed me to see my computer— I didn't wear
a helmet lamp at night like many of the other riders. Being aware of
my average speed per lap was huge. It kept me on pace and provided motivation
if the going got tougher. The 24-hour racers joined the course at 5:30pm
on Friday. They would simply ride as fast and as far as they could in
that time. Needless to say, their pace was higher. It was a little disconcerting
being passed by them, but I held my focus on the bigger picture. I had
over 200 miles in my legs and they were just beginning.
The sun set itself on the western horizon much as it had risen twelve hours
earlier from the eastern skyline. Again, a magnificent sight on what
had remained a totally cloudless day. A rich red glow emanated in a
thick horizontal line that gradated to lighter and lighter shades of
red in both directions until they blended into the sky behind. The chill
of night was settling in as well and I'd be back to warmer clothing
at the next pit stop. I harbored a little trepidation about riding all
night given the ordeal I endured in riding just over one hour in the
dark at the start of the race. On the other hand, with over ten laps
behind me I knew the course very well, so there shouldn't be any surprises
there. I switched on my lamps and hoped for the best.
Night Rider
As the miles accumulated, a few physical discomforts appeared. I chose
a road setup without aerobars, consequently my neck began to ache. A
few Ibuprofen remedied that. I also sensed increasing hot spots on the
balls of my feet and toes. I lubricated the areas on both feet until
the friction and pain subsided. I suppose most people first inquire
about your backside. Doesn't your butt hurt? It did. Shifting positions
and standing to pedal helped a lot. Putting in all the miles leading
into this event no doubt hardened me, so it wasn't as bad as one might
imagine. Equally incomprehensible to me is how solo RAAM riders can
sit on their bikes virtually nonstop for 8-10 days. On the positive
side, no cramps arose and no stomach issues cropped up. The nutrition
plan was right on.
It was Friday night in rural Texas and we rode along under a billion twinkling
stars. I snuck furtive glances at the light show above daring to take
my eyes off the road for only seconds at a time. In the course of that
night, I easily spotted fifty meteorites burning their way through the
atmosphere. I'm quite sure there were hundreds behind me I didn't see.
Most of the traffic had died down with the exception of the occasional
pickup hauling ass at some ridiculous speed. I hoped that their beer
drinking was ahead of them and not behind. For the most part, this is
what 24-hour racing was all about— the stillness, the whirl of
pedals, the majesty of the sky. It was almost ethereal. The 200 plus
miles I had already covered were nonexistent. It was as if I had been
given a fresh start. Around midnight, I rolled past the 300-mile mark.
On fifteen occasions I had called out #333 to the lap counters and now
only ten remained. At that moment, I knew I could do the distance. It
became only a matter of, "in what time?"
During a night pit stop, I attached the Tire Flies to my valve stems. They
put on dazzling light show. I loved looking at them but it was dizzying.
Rider after rider would come up on me and comment about the two pulsating
circles of blue light. "I love those wheels. Very cool. Awesome
lights, dude." I wish I could have seen them myself from a distance.
I'm sure they gave many riders the motivation to push themselves a little
harder just to see what the hell those strange blue lights were up ahead.
I've driven home from many a race and felt the need to pull over at a rest
stop. Sitting behind the wheel of a car is hypnotic enough in itself
without having hammered your body in a race beforehand. Riding a bike,
I reasoned, must be different. You're burning calories, your respiration
and heart rate are elevated. It must be easier to stay awake. I held
that thought until l found myself nodding off on the bike. 2:30am is
still 2:30am. When added to 22-hours of near-continuous exercise, the
eyes wanted to shut. I guess it was to be expected. It suddenly became
a real struggle to focus on the road ahead. Even the cold night air
had little or no waking effect. I needed to make it the ten miles to
transition and down a Starbuck's Cappuccino. Struggling mightily, I
finally arrived at the tent (my sister and niece surprised me by putting
up it up earlier that day) and extracted my bottle of chocolate wonder
from the cooler. I unscrewed the cap and chugged its contents. In my
depleted state, the caffeine provided a near-instantaneous buzz and
I was off again.
The course had more than its fair share of climbs, but with them were a
few nice descents. In particular was the stair-stepped double-descent
that led to the finish line. These were 40mph drops made all the more
exhilarating by the utter blackness of the night. The first one was
arrow-straight and the second one bent slightly to the right. I flew
down these keeping a line just to the right of the double yellow, all
the while not seeing more than twenty-feet ahead. It probably sounds
crazier than it actually was, but those two downhills were outrageously
exciting.
In the darkness of lap-19, a gal went by me and we exchanged pleasantries.
I didn't know what group she was in and I didn't know if I had unwittingly
ingested some Floyd Landis, testostrone-laced supplement, but I did
know that I was feeling my oats. I repassed her and put the hammer down.
Her bike was distinguished by an excellent lighting system so I knew
that it was her keeping up. She observed the 7-meter rule and followed
my blazing, blue wheel lights. We blew by one racer after another. I
stood on every roller and rode all-out down every hill. It was probably
unwise to expend that much effort but it sure was fun. We rolled through
the lap count together and laughingly acknowledged one another's excellent
riding.
By the Dawn's Early Light
 It's
a strange sensation realizing that you've stayed on your bike for consecutive
sunrises. By now I knew the drill, but that ball of hot gas breaching
the horizon was still a glorious sight. With it came the knowledge that
I'd reach 400 miles by 8am or so. And that would mean I would have until
5:30pm to complete the final five laps. Piece of cake
After twenty times around, at least by my count, I pulled over near the lap-counters
and inquired if I could have a lap check, just to be sure. Bravo. Our
numbers jibed. Only five to go. There was just one problem. The light
breeze from Friday had turned around on this Saturday morning and was
blowing at 15mph with gusts to 25mph. I abandoned the big chain ring
I had ridden exclusively to that point and spun a little gear up and
over the rollers. Each lap became increasingly difficult as I climbed
the rollers into the headwind. As painstakingly slow as I seemed to
be crawling, I knew that if I just kept the pedals turning I'd be in
before the cutoff. No way was I riding 500 only to have my time not
count.
Lap after painful lap, it became even more of a mental challenge than a
physical one. When at long last I announced to the lap counters that
I had just one go-around remaining, they gave me a big cheer. I had
over four hours to ride twenty miles so I thought I'd make it a victory
lap and just soak in the race. It wasn't long before I noticed that
the wind had performed yet another shift. This time is was tailwind
baby. The two-mile connector I had ridden off of during lap-one now
saw me spinning my big gear at 26mph. The rollers that spit in my face
for the last four circuits, I ate up on my big ring. It was as if a
divine hand had touched my last lap. What a way to finish.
The Numbers
In the end I covered the 500 miles in 33hrs 45min and 25sec. It was good
enough for 4th place and qualified me for RAAM. In retrospect, I know
I could have gone faster. If there's a next time at this race, I imagine
I can cut at least an hour from my time. Experience alone would count
for that much. My average speed was 14.8192 mph including my breaks.
It was over 15mph of pure riding time. 22 riders started the 500 and
just 10 completed it.
|
Congratulations to everyone who made the finish line in all of the weekend's races.
Matt Cazalas
Texas TT 500 Ride Review:
I rode 9 laps for 180 miles and stopped riding after 13 hours (6:30 am) and decided to DNF three hours later after a rest that did not help much. It was very cold all nightin the low fortyıs and very moist/dew. I felt OK temperature wise while riding, but got cold, and was very wet, when off the bike. I still felt quite strong all night long drinking only Sustained Energy mixed with 9 scoops in one big water bottle. I also ate two bananas. In hind sight, I should have supplemented the drink with more solid food.maybe two-thirds calories from drink and one third solid. I wore just about all the warm clothes on my upper body that I owned. Winter gloves, two layers under my helmet.
At 6:30 I was basically done riding thru the cold night and it was not going to be near as cold on the second night. All of a sudden, I felt fatigued, hungry, cold, chilled, butt hurt, mentally weak, and stomach not really wanting any food. I felt that if I continued I would be able to squeeze out 200 or even 300 miles but thought the odds of completing were very small and if I were to continue I would take several days to recover. My body, and mind, said DNF. I feel that the primary factor for feeling bad was that my body was not completely recovered from being under the weather for several days up until about one week prior to the event. I thought I was recovered, but was not. And, also, I did not take in enough calories. I would let myself feel a little hungry, then drink and the hunger feeling would quickly go away. But, I never should have had to feel hungry at all. The liquid food can easily work for a century or double century for me..beyond that I need different and solid food.
Another big negative factor was no dedicated support. This is very important for me. The folks around me were very nice and helpful, but just not enough. I also think the cold sapped more energy from me than I realized. I think I need to use my other softer seat that I had on the Trek the last few years. The racing saddle I do think contributed to my butt woes. Also, need to reapply the butt cream.
My two lights both disintegrated during the first lap, which was during daylight. Luckily, I had purchased a good backup that proved to be the best light I have ever used. It is nice.
Only 10 of 25 riders finished the 500. The first place guy was unbelievable at right at 30 hours. I rode further than five other riders. There were four guys in my age group and I was third out of four.
The course was quite hilly, but wind was not a factor. If I had continued, however, wind became kind of bad on Friday and Saturday. I will do this againdo not know if I will do 500 or 24 hour. My feet did pretty well overallalthough I did feel numbness up to my knees at times.
On one part of the ride, we smelled pine trees like Christmas, and another part we smelled fireplace burning. Traffic was quite light. Surface generally smooth. I think the 5:30 pm start time was a negative. I would do better beginning at 5:30 am. Used aero bars VERY little.
Next time, I need more base miles and more back to back long rides. I average about 800 miles a month for six months. High, but not high enough. Should ride 1000 in August, 1200 in September.with back to back 150 mile rides and/or a triple century. Might do more spinning for speed as well. Also, might add upper body workouts which I did nothing in this area. My weight before and after ride was ~194 lbs.
My consolation prize for the year is that I have two more 200k rides to complete in Nov. and Dec. to complete the work for the R12 award. This will be a good thing for 2006.the year of the comeback. I have never been in this kind of long distance shape for so many months in a row. Last December I rode to San Antonio, then did the Jan. 1, 2006 200k ride in Arlington.
I have lost about 23 lbs. or so since Jan. 1, 2006. Current weight naked is 194 lbs.
All for now.
Joe Castelli
This is as good a website as I have ever seen, lots of info and easy to find it.
Dan Driscoll
Thank you so much. I had a great time. I get a great feeling seeing what all those riders accomplish and it is very motivating. Your hard work and that of the volunteers is also an inspiration. The "Reset Button" has now been hit. I was pleased that I was able to ride 160 miles without training. It was just what I needed. Already training for next year, I have already been on my bike for 3 hours and had 3 swims this week. I don't plan to stop. I am going to get back in shape and stay there this time. May just try for a 2 man 500 next year, or 100 miles in the 6-hour time trial. One way or the other, I will use this event as a main motivation to train and stay in shape.
Steve Edwards
I wanted to thank you for a fantastically run event this last weekend -- unfortunately, for me, an injury kept me from reaching my goals, and at about 6pm Friday night I turned my number in. It was a sad personal moment, because after 220 miles I felt GREAT - except for my right ankle. I have to run through the possible causes, etc., and get it figured out before next year - but aside from my personal heartache over something OTHER than my abilities dictating my personal outcome, the event itself was FABULOUS! The campsite, the food, the volunteers, and the course everything was far above my expectations. I WILL be back next year for personal vindication - and hopefully no more twisted ankles. Yeesh. See you in 2007!
Keith Gates
(After the event) John and I made it to east of Dallas, crashed for the night, then got up at 5 and drove until 4:30 AM the next morning - 23.5 - hours to get to Richmond, where we slept in the van until John had to go in at 7, then I drove on to my office (Yucky)...but we did not miss work...well, at least our bodies did not. We are still recovering, sleep mostly, but have great memories and looking forward to next year...(Can we be honorary Texans for PBP) ???
Cheers!
Nancy and John Guth
Thanks for having me out there... great race! Had a blast!
Brian Hasenbauer
...I did the 6 hour. Hardest 80 miles I've ever done, due to the course, but I will be back next year, hopefully for the 12 hour event.
I did TinButt '96 12 hour....and that was way easier (in my 20's, and 30 pounds ago), but this was a LOT more fun thanks to Dan, Frank and all the rest of the volunteers.
Great trophies too!
Had I known this was an effort to help the church's outreach, I would have collected donations from my church: New Hope Baptist Church of Aubrey, TX :)
Thanks for the great event.
Kevin Hill
Thank you for putting on an excellent race. I know how much work and time it takes, I am in the process of helping put on the San Antonio Marathon, and I know how overwhelming it can be.
Thanks,
Donny Horadam
P.S. Hope to be back next year.
It was a pleasure taking part in such a well-run event, even if only for 12 hours. Next year: Maybe the 500.
Here's my Race Report:
Cleburne, Texas - Saturday, October 21, 2006, was the last race on my 2006 racing calendar, the Texas Time Trials, located about 30 miles outside of the Dallas/Fort Worth area.
The Time Trials consist of four events; the Tejas 500-miler, a 24-hour time trial, a 6-hour time trial, and the event I was heading for, the UMCA National 12-Hourt Time Trial Championships. Each race is held on the same, 20.01 mile loop in the town of Cleburne.
The race format is unique, because all the events end at 5:30pm on Saturday afternoon. This requires a staggered start, with the 500 mile racers beginning at 5:30pm on Thursday afternoon, the 24-hour racers at 5:30pm Friday afternoon, and my race, at 5:30am Saturday morning.
I was really looking forward to this race because; 1. It was the last race of the season, and 2. itıs the only race this year where I get to wake up in my hotel knowing Iıll be going to bed there on the same day (i.e. no racing through the night), a real luxury!
I came to the event crewless
I flew in on Friday around lunchtime and had time to assemble my bike before making the 15 mile drive to the race start to check-in and watch the start of the 24-hour time trial. The event really has a party atmosphere.
The start/finish line is on a two lane road across the parking lot from a small, historic church. Cars park along both sides of the road, and riders in all events can access their cars, and crews if they have them, on each lap.
There were a lot of tents, folding lounge chairs, and even small campfires. A lot of music and socializing by the various crews as each waits the approximate 1.2 hours for their rider to complete a lap.
I came to the event crewless. My wife, Jaymie, who often serves as my crew chief in longer races, had a professional course to attend and I figured with a race only 12-hours long I could do well with simply stocking the car with provisions and grabbing them every 20 miles.
Frankly, given the availability of my supplies, it worked out fine. However, if I come back to do the 500-miler (25 full laps) Iım going to want at least one crewperson to take care of me.
As I mentioned, my race started at 5:30am. The part I hadnıt thought about was how dark it was going to be. I left my NiteRider MOAB at home. All I had was a small CatEye LED which makes you legal, but hardly throws enough light to see the road.
To survive the first dark loop I had to position myself behind a rider with a good light, yet stay far enough back not to get a time penalty for drafting. By looking in front of my leading rider I could at least tell where I was going.
Fortunately, the road is in, by California standards anyway, great shape. No major tank traps and a pretty good white line on the right. There are only two turns in the course, so navigating isnıt an issue.
My first four laps were fantastic. I was very pleased to see I had recovered completely from the Furnace Creek 508 I had raced just two weeks previously.
If you make a nutritional mistake you can gut it out
Unfortunately, my pace slowed during the next four laps when I started having stomach problems, causing me to spend precious minutes at my car trying to find some calories in the ice chest that I could stand to eat.
Nonetheless, the great thing about a relatively short 12-hour race is even if you make a nutritional mistake you can gut it out. In longer races it can certainly lead to a DNF (did not finish).
My last lap turned out to be the slowest due to severe nausea, the same problem I had two weeks earlier in the last 50 miles of Furnace Creek.
I eventually finished 9th overall in a field of 33, and 3rd in my age group, with 180 miles completed.
After doing some extensive research Iıve come to the conclusion that my biggest problem is an electrolyte imbalance. There are three different though related causes, but the fix is easy, take more electrolyte supplements during the race.
Iıll be spending much of the off-season on a computer-driven trainer to experiment with different eating and hydration protocols for next season.
In all, given a near fatal riding accident in May, Iıve been very pleased with the way the second half of my season progressed and look forward to a long winterıs rest and the dawning of next season, tentatively scheduled for the Sebring 24-hour in Florida come February 2007.
Tim Jones
Fairfield, California
I just wanted to say that a lot of us recumbent riders not only appreciate you permitting 'bents to participate, but also appreciate the equal attention you pay to them. Your event gets quite a bit of attention in our community because of this.
Again, thanks!
Mallory Kates
I had a great time at your event. I'll be back and I'll bring some friends.
Mark Lindsey
Thanks for all the hard work that you put into this event. Once again it was a superb event and I thoroughly enjoyed the pain that I endured through this experience, not just from climbing and distance, but also from the very cold weather. My wife and I had a great time and we will be coming back again for another great year in Ultra Cycling at the Texas Time Trials in 2007.
Thanks again for your attention to detail and your great organizational skills.
Pete Link
I definitely enjoyed the race, with this being my first time. You were absolutely right that the 24 hour "team" was a good way to start! You guys did an excellent job. Thanks for providing another challenge, another accomplishment, and another goal reached.
Donna Martin
TTT Organizers: Thank you very much for putting on such an excellent race, we had a great time!
Rick & Denise Neptune
TTT is a great event. I really wanted to get a picture of you, Mark and Rani with me after the race. You three are the people who really inspired me to try for the RAAM qualification. (Iıll get the photo in a future Brevet.)
I can remember probably every offhanded remark you and Mark have made to me over the last year or so regarding riding, preparing, eating, strategy, etc. They all helped me complete something that was probably the hardest thing I have done in my life.
I could not find Pam's email - but please let her know that her 'optimistic insanity' was a real pleasure to see during and after the ride. I really appreciated her giving up a chance to ride and being there to help us.
Pat Nolan
We had a great day....Can't stop thinking about it. Looking forward to next year, and if you can try to plan weather just like this year, since according to Jack you ordered the wind.....it was a perfect day on Sat. Thanks again to you & all your volunteers and supporters...Great event!!!
Eric O.
I've been visiting this website for 2 - 3 years and now with the forum it has become very friendly and informative. The site is just as wonderful as the event that it represents. Thank you for a great time. I have been racing offroad since 1991 and have experienced many well-organized races. Your's fits right in close to the top. Friendly volunteers and giving sponsors. What an experience!!!
Thanks
Michael Padgett
Team McAllen
I wanted to drop you a note to thank you for the great job you and your team did with the race organization this weekend. Overall, I thought the course was a good one, neither too flat or too hilly, a good test for everyone, and I thoroughly enjoyed the event. Hopefully my schedule will allow me to come back and race again next year.
Mark Pattinson
Great web site!
JW Bill Rhodes
This was my first long distance cycling event ever and I really did not know what to expect or how to train. Looking back now I do not think I would have it any other way. The course was difficult and the wind was there to guarantee it tough. You have to be mental tough. Riding at night was an experience all in itself (tough course, blowing winds, nighttime, sleep deprivation, hallucinating, what an experience). The volunteers were awesome and made the whole event a once in a lifetime experience. I was totally blessed to be in the presence of these incredible athletes and superb volunteers what a weekend. Thanks to everyone and to my new friends. I will be back.
Jackie R.
I had wondered why the miles for the 24-hour seemed to be low for a 24-hour event. This concerned me and I kept thinking there must be a reason for this. Driving down the course to the start on Friday afternoon gave me a little clue but I still thought there had to be a surprise somewhere that explains it.
Why the 5:30 p.m. start? I wonder if that was a factor but after the first two laps where I ran them at 55 minutes I was thinking wow this is going to be a fun race. I was not hurting myself and things were clicking good.
Then it got dark and that stretch on the top without any painted stripes or edge stripes I found a little tough to feel confident to go fast as I was in the light. My lights were just absorbed into the chip seal.
Then the temperatures started to drop and for some reason my lungs decided that the cold air should trigger fluids to fill them. Trying to breathe deep caused a coughing spell that would almost shake me off the bike.
I could handle that if I backed it down to a 115 HR from the 145 HR I had been running the first few laps. Then it happened that my fuel, for the first time in all the years I have used it, made my stomach shut down. So from 2:30 a.m. to 6:30 am, I was limping along thinking I was going to have to quit this race. At 3:45 I pulled into the pits and called Sara Kay who should be heading out soon for the 12-hour race to bring me some bread and turkey. At 6:30 a.m., I switch to that type of food and as the day warmed up I was able to work more air into my lungs.
I knew I was close to the course record and decided I would be happy with tying the record. I'm came across with 58 more minutes left on the clock and could have rolled on for maybe another 15 miles but I really felt I would never be able to finish that last lap. So I guess I wussed and now suffer from the shoulda , woulda, coulda. But that leaves a goal for next year if I ride the 24 again.
I now know why the miles are low: Night start, temperature drops, dust from the lime plant and those climbs wear on you.
Thanks for letting us come out and play.
John Schlitter
Team Bacchetta
I did the 12-hr (cane girl) but I want to train this upcoming year to do the 500. You guys were so great - all the volunteers! I have never had a better time abusing myself! Now if I can just muster the courage to undertake brevets.... Thank for your help. I only rode 12-hr this year but I am pretty pumped and want more... hee, hee
Raynelle Shelley
Ten days prior to this yearıs race I had never even heard of The Texas Time Trials. I was searching the RAAM site under qualifying events and lo and behold the TTTT was less than 2 weeks away. I had never ridden a bike more than 100 miles before. 6 hours was the longest I had ever been in the saddle. But I thought what the heck, Iıd go up there and give it a shot. I had been putting in good mileage throughout the year. So I entered the 24-hour solo time trial. I figured I would ride the first lap and if it went okay then I would ride another lap. I self crewed. I parked my car beside the road, laid a tarp out on the ground and I was ready. While I was setting up my supply camp, I met a lot of the other riders. Everyone was very friendly and helpful. Since I had no experience in ultra events, I did not know how to plan my hydration and nutrition. I figured I would be eating plenty of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches during the night. Luckily everything went real good. I had one of the best rides and best times that I have ever experienced. I ended up with 320 miles, which was much more than I ever expected.
This was a very well organized event. The race director, officials and volunteers were tops. Thanks to all.
Because of the Texas Time Trials I have discovered RUSA, UMCA, John Marino Competition and the Lone Star Randonneurs. I have discovered the world of ultra cycling, which 2 weeks earlier I didnıt even know, existed. Thanks TTTT for opening my eyes.
Dex Tooke
My crew and me had a great time at your event. Thank you for all your hard work and time.
Peter vanDerLinden
Great job as always.
Jack Weiss
Sounds like an excellent event that you put on. I was made aware of it by John Schlitter and Jim Kern, where we kind of watched from afar and had phone updates on progress. :) It's great to see a venue that will allow recumbents to compete heads up on the same course at the same time. Thanks for allowing those guys to compete.
Mark Wolfe
What wonderful fun to watch somebody ELSE go around and around the hilly Cleburne course! I can personally vouch it's NOT the easiest course around, so hats off to the 100+ racers that did it!
As one of the MANY volunteers there for 3 days, I got to watch racers check in all smiley, chatty, bright-eyed and bushy tailed and return 12hrs, 24 hrs or 2 days later....just bushy-tailed. Most still mustered a smile of completion, which said it all. All of a sudden the couple of lounge chairs were the hottest property around and (confession time) we had fun with more than 1 passed out racer.
If you only show up to ride, you need to change that and volunteer once a year. My first thought was it would be hard to help and not ride. I was wrong. What FUN to meet the racers at check-in and know exactly what these folks were in for. It built a real spirit of camaraderie, which is priceless. Plus, I got to spend time with great people. I think being a cyclist made it MORE fun to volunteer. I was truly surprised by all the bikers that gave up their time, energy and even money to help this bike race continue. There isn't a money pit putting this race on, it's just cyclists putting on an event for other cyclists. In addition to the other fabulous volunteers, throw in the church's pancake breakfast (talk about great volunteers!!!) and their genuine hospitality all weekend and you have a great Texas-sized bike race!
To all of you that drove hundreds and thousands of miles to go round-and-round our piece of Texas...THANK YOU! You're the only reason we were there and your spirit, cheer and determination made the cold nights and hot windy days worth every second!
Y'all come back now!
Pam Wright
Copyright İ 2006, Tejas Sports Productions, All Rights Reserved
No images, text, graphics or design may be reproduced without permission.
