Pickle juice

 

White Rim is always an event to look forward to. I enjoy the scenery:

I enjoy the time with friends:

Kudos to friends like Kris and Kenny, who can smile at the top of a long climb at the end of 100 miles rather than just grind their molars to powder as they get it over with.

I enjoy the stories, such as having both knees replaced last fall and still being one of the first guys done with RAWROD:

And this year, I also enjoyed the solitude.

There’s only one race that matters at RAWROD, and that’s being first to the bathroom in the morning. So I went solo off the front in an effort to make it to the john before there was a line.

For whatever reason, I found I had gotten into a rhythm at a nice, sustainable pace that was just right for an endurance workout. So I stuck with it and rode most of the day alone. I stopped for the group picture and then again when I realized I (along with several others who may or may not have been following me) had overshot the lunch stop by three or four miles. So a few of us doubled back to get our lunch and send a support vehicle up to the rest.

After filling a bottle at the top of Murphy’s, I realized I could probably make it to the end with two bottles. My legs had been feeling like they were about to cramp up to this point, but LJ had a jar of pickles, so I ate a couple pickles and drank a few swallows of pickle juice and didn’t have even a hint of cramping the rest of the day. Last year the revelation at RAWROD was putting mayonnaise on bratwurst. This year it was pickle juice. I need to remember pickle juice on race days.

I managed to pedal every mile of the trail without walking and without dabbing, a first for me. One of these days I’ll do the fast Friday version (Aaron’s result is the most remarkable). I was done in a little over ten hours, but my ride time was under eight. I’d be interested to know how much faster I was able to ride for having taken a few breaks.

Cheeseburgers at Ray’s on the way home are the perfect bookend to the bratwurst the night before. Last year, I felt so worked that I had a hard time eating and couldn’t finish it. This year I polished it off in record time and could have eaten another one.