Hotter N Hell - 2012...maybe Winder N Hell...

Amber, Me, Michael...- Pre Race

Somebody ask me, “What is the hardest part about the Hotter N Hell 100 miler?” 

I respond, “The first 10 miles.” 

“WHAT? WHY? You are fresh…How can it be hard the first 10 miles?” They exclaim. 

“Because you have 14,000 cyclists amped up on adrenaline thinking they are on TEAM RADIOSHACK riding into Paris on the last day of the Tour de France.” I reply.  “Then add those 14,000 cyclist dodging dropped water bottles and you have a white knuckle ride of epic proportions. “ 

But let us not get too far ahead of ourselves. 

I make the pilgrimage to Wichita Falls on Friday evening to meet up with Team Legacy…and at about 7:00 PM… 15 team members or so gather and eat the carbo loading spaghetti dinner at the at the downtown convention center.  It is always so good to catch up with these guys…Jackie, Amy, Jason, Jim, Ken…Karl the Camel, Tony…Lots of laughing…lots of ribbing…and all of these guys can flat out ride.  After dinner many of us head over to the downtown Y where for $20, they give you an opportunity to sleep with 400 of your best friends…a couple of them with sleep apnea.  It’s all part of the HHH adventure….I had the lovely experience of the two guys next to me deciding to pack up at 3:00AM…you might as well have driven a Moving Van through Racquetball court number 3….and thus at 4:50AM deciding I might as well get up.  REALLY?  A 3:00 AM wakeup?  The @#$@ Race doesn’t start till 7:05AM…I can move an entire USMC Battalion out in 30 minutes….and these two knuckleheads want to get up at 3:00AM?  But let me add this for all you peeps wanting endurance race tips.  The sleep (or lack thereof) you get the night before a race doesn’t matter and will not affect your race performance.  Focus on the sleep and rest the week leading up to the event.

 Bunking at the Y - Court 3

So at about 6:30….most of Team Legacy gathers at the start line where the “SCORCHERS” (those anticipating riding the 100 miles in under 6 hours).  Michael and Amber met up with the rest of us as they decided to drive in from North Texas that morning…and I thought….”Well, at the time I was woken up this morning I should have driven in as well.”  But I would have missed all the camaraderie and good times with my buds…so no regrets bunking in the Y…plus they offer a post race shower.

 The Hell's Gates Scorchers looking back to Hell's Gates Keeper - Start line

It is said that it is better to be 10% undertrained rather than 5% over trained…and on that morning I felt like I was on the undertrained side.  I had trained hard…and ridden well up to the time of the race…doing back to back hard days on the weekend…but my longest ride was a 60 mile ride…make that a pretty fast and furious 60 mile ride.  Jim offers a long Saturday morning country ride leaving his place…a great place for training…for holding a pace…for some climbing at the end of the ride.  Despite the long Saturday ride followed by a Hammerfest Sunday Ride with Michael and Amber…crushing 35 miles where the heart rate is in the stratosphere…170 bpm…I wish I had ridden at least one 80 miler.  Because of family vacation, that was not to be.  I go into the race wanting to do better than last year…I overheard Amber and others saying they wanted to ride HHH in 5 hr 30 min….and I thought…ok…maybe…but I feel undertrained…this was my third HHH…and I know what to expect…and I know how bad you can hurt if you go out too fast…I know how it feels to sit on a bicycle seat for over 5 hours…I know how the legs feel at mile 90…but I might as well set the goal for 5 ½ hours.

The Star Spangle Banner is sung…the Air Force Flyover complete….immediately followed by the cannon…let the maelstrom commence.   I feel like I can handle a bike fairly well…it doesn’t make me nervous in the middle of a peloton…6” from another experienced rider…but the first 10 miles of the HHH gives me the hibby gibbies…(is that a word?) 

Team Legacy is intact as a unit….at least for the first 3 miles…ha…then things start spreading out…at mile 7 or so…a loud BANG…sounds like a pistol shot…someone nearby had a blow out…I hear Amber behind me yell…”MICHAEL! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”  I don’t dare look around….lest I face plant from a dropped water bottle.  I hear Michael exclaim, “I am good.”  Great…a quick flash back to Beauty and Beast100K ride where Michael was taken out by a cyclist making a turn in the first 3 miles. 

Things spread out…at mile 12 or so….I see a train of Legacy Cyclist…Jackie, Amy, Jim…maybe there were others…but I didn’t see who they were…I was moving well…fast…and the heart rate was in check…we have a goal…not just to finish…At mile 20 or so…I see Tony…looking strong…I know Amber is somewhere close by behind me…so I tell him to get in with us….let’s work this race together.  He responds, “I have to pee like a Russian Race Horse!”  I have no idea how the ethnic origins of a horse have to do with equine urination patterns…but I got the jest that he needed to get a bigger bladder…heck Tony…you and I were in line at the port-a -potties at the start of this race.  I respond, “Tony, just Pee on the bike.”  HE comes back, “Do I look like a Tri Guy?” (A reference to Triathletes who some have a panache for urinating without getting off the bike.)  Ok…I realize that not all of you are endurance athletes and the above statement alone grossed you out.  Just let me say that for most endurance athletes…conversations of “peeing on the Bike” don’t even move the needle on the “disgusting scale.” )

We motor on…and somewhere around the 30 mile aid station I lose Tony….but incredibly catch back up with him around mile 35…I still don’t know if he stopped to pee.  Our first aid station stop was to be at mile 40...the goal…get refueled….water bottles filled and move on!  The mile 40 aid station was chaos…a debacle…20 cyclist deep to fill water bottles…if we stay around here it will be 30 minutes of time wasted.  I have one full bottle left (carried 3 bottles total)…let’s move on to the 50 mile aid station.   So at the 50 mile marker we roll in…Amber, Ken…myself…I knew that Michael, being his first century, would dial it back after the start…so I wasn’t concerned with him.  Ken was looking for a mechanic…for some reason he couldn’t shift on the small gear cassette.  We refill…and move on …3 minutes stopped…success.

Now is a good time to point out that this wasn’t going to be a Hot Hotter N Hell…afar cry from the record setting 109F temps of the previous year…nope…not HOT…But WINDY…WINDIER THAN HELL….from mile 20…there was a constant 20mph wind gusting up to 30mph…and to the 50 mile point with only a barbed wire fence for a wind break… a cross wind blowing you all over the road.

 Flags at convention center...Welcome to Hell....at least Windy Hell

Mile 90 (pic courtesy of Don Westbrook)

We had agreed to stop next at mile 70 and then ride it all the way in…to the finish…I would pay for this decision…at Mile 66…I am out of water…and the next aid station was actually mile 72…I refill…still feeling strong…but my dehydrating the last few miles would come back to pay the piper later.  Amber is feeling great…she moves up ahead…I lose sight of her…but at mile 75 I get in a 40 man peloton holding a good pace at 24mph…and we, with a tail wind, fly through the community of Burkburnett at 31mph….and then we turn….South…straight into that head wind…brutal…the peloton is moving well at a 14mph…working…but I have a problem…my legs are starting to cramp…badly…both the quads and the hamstrings…to the point that my brain can no longer admonish the legs to continue.  At mile 83 I have to get off the bike…for 6 minutes…This is killing me…back on…into the head wind…for a total of 11 miles…and then into the edges of Wichita Falls…at mile 91…more Severe leg cramps…back off the bike…for another 6 minutes…it seemed like an eternity…and then Amber flys by…wait..you were suppose to be ahead of me…she had stopped to wait…worried that something had happened…I tell her to Go…Make it happen…I am back…through Shepherd Air Base…the Airmen lining the streets…you feel like a rock star…on ward…faster now…legs are cramping….overcome the pain…18mph now…to the finish…go…go…forget the pain….stand up in saddle to succumb the cramping…DONE…5 hours 38 minutes (avg speed 18.4 mph).  With that freaking Wind…DONE!  Just short of my goal…ironically…not spent…the tank not empty…but the legs gone…If not for the 2 abridged stops…5 ½ would have been easy.  Don, (Amber’s bud) grabbed my bike…I go sit…and Karl comes over…he had ridden the whole thing without stopping…with a camelback hydration pack…NO FREAKING STOPPING for 100 miles.  He tells us that Jason had finished in sub 5 hours.  Jim had come in just ahead of us…Amber and I talked…she had completed the century in 5 hrs 33 min…if she hadn’t stopped…she would have completed in way under 5 ½…and then we start waiting on Michael…Don brings me fluids…Tony makes his way in…with the Barbaro Tandem Rocket…physically I feel great…the legs start returning…I finally decide to go get a shower and then come back and wait for Michael.  I get back to my car…check my phone…and Michael had texted me…he was out…the blowout at mile 7…he didn’t get taken off the bike…but somebody had hit his back wheel….and for the next mile he rode feeling like he had a flat…only to find out that the rim was bent.  In the chaos of the first 10 miles…in the mass sea of thousands of cyclist where keeping a team intact is a herculean task…and Michael was out…Amber and I joked with him later…the next race we each will flank him…all the way to the finish line.  I am blessed to have these two as training partners.

 At the finish - photo courtsey of Don Westbrook

Later on Team Legacy starts to make their way in one by one…Jackie and Amy stay with Ken….who only had one gear in that godforsaken wind… completed his first 100 miler.

It was an epic day…let me close with this…at the finish line I got a bit emotional.  I have always rode for Carolyn Boyd who struggled with breast cancer and Sarah Grace,  the nine year old best friend of my daughter,  fighting Leukemia.  Her Leukemia is in remission…Praise our Father.    

Two years ago Carolyn waited at the finish line with her family.  Last year I had to visit her in the hospital on route to Wichita Falls.  In October 2011, Carolyn went to be with her Lord…and so this year…I rode for her memory…when I ride the Hotter N Hell…I will always ride in memory of Carolyn.

I am blessed…with 4 great kids…and a wife who is incredible in her support… PRESS ON!

Done!!(pic courtesy of Don Westbrook)

My Eyes are Dry....My Faith is Old

It was the summer of 1993.  Bren, my wife to be, was sitting in Pine Cove Summer Counselor orientation…enduring the rite of passage for any Pine Cove Counselor…the “NAME GAME.”  An event where the “chosen one” stands in front of the other staff and the questions start coming…screamed out…”most embarrassing moment?”  “Most exciting time in life?”...you answer…they respond with more questions…more shouting…and then…it happens…they give you a name…it’s given…not chosen…and corresponds to the answers given in the inquisition.  That NAME is forever yours…your real name will no longer be used at camp…the entire summer…the campers will never know your real name…until the very end…it is just how it is.  Her name given…Peeka Boobaka…she was called Peeka for short…she served with others…like Icy Hot…Tippa Canoe…Kansas...for 5 weeks, pouring their lives into the kids attending Pine Cove Ranch…

She knew the environment of Pine Cove…she knew what it was all about…and this past Spring came to me and said she wanted us to go to Family Camp this summer. “Fine,” I replied…whatever…we will work around my training schedule…it is 2 weeks before Hotter N Hell 100 miler.

Let me be frank with you for a moment.  Last year was a challenge for Bren and I…In April we learned we would have our 4^th kid…It was a tough year…emotionally…spiritually…a year for a rocky marriage….the very thought of another in diapers.   Because the week before Christmas just isn’t busy enough…Kyle Ryan was born on December 22… and only 4 days prior, my Mom shatters her hip in the foyer of my home
 

The Late Christian Singer and Song writer, Keith Green summed up where I was in life at the beginning of 2012:

“My Eyes are Dry. My Faith is Old. My Heart is Hard. My prayers are cold.”

Camp Chapel

So last Sunday, August 5, we loaded up the van and made the trip 15 minutes outside of Tyler, Texas…the piney woods of East Texas…and Pine Cove – The Bluffs…family camp… Divine Providence had been set in motion.

We are met at the gate of the Bluffs…with overly excited college age counselors who were in desperate need for a detox from caffeine…they seemed so happy that we are there.  They make us get out of our car…leaving an idling vehicle in the middle of the road…they usher us into the Summit, a large room that would serve as chow hall, activity center, and meeting room…we register…sign up for activities…then shown to our family cabin…a counselor had already unloaded all of our bags into the room...expecting nothing in return…heck…I didn’t even know who he was.  From a world where busy schedules, self indulgence, and selfish desires are the paradigm…We were now in a world where those characteristics seemed foreign.  College age counselors begin to pour their lives into ours…with a smile…cheerful service...I look over and “Oh No,” a camp boat driver is feeding Kyle…or “Enigma” is serving our family dinner and then ever so graciously admonished me for trying to help clean up afterwards.

The days are filled with camp activities…each child will be in a very small group with others their age and lead by a Counselor, who for the next 6 days will invest their lives into our children…for 6 days our kids will go swimming, horseback riding, taking a wild ride on the banana boat…or the exhilarating excursion on the zip line.  There will be Bible Studies, silly games…crazy times…archery, bb guns…the water slide…the Blob...I would see “Snarewise” hanging out with Luke…or “Toes” leading some crazy cheer and Hope giggling….I would see “Fly” walking with Macy and both laughing.  “C-Pay” would grab Kyle and take him to Cove Kids so Bren and I could attend the morning speakers meeting…Rick and Judy Taylor…parents of 4 kids…only to learn that 3 of their children are in their 30’s.  Their oldest had drowned at the age of 5 trying to save his drowning bother.  His name was Kyle.  My wife looks at me…the healing of 2011 had begun.  The material being taught was not new to Bren and I…and frankly, that was not what was important at that moment…but the providence of God…and the birth of our 4^th child, Kyle…a gift…so much joy…

Macy and "Fly"

Hope and "Toes"

“ My Eyes are Dry. My Faith is Old. My Heart is Hard. My prayers are cold …and I know how I ought to be, Alive to You…and Dead to me…”

On Monday Morning, we received a knock on the door at 6:45 a.m.  “Hubs” was there and she was to take care of our kids as Bren and I would go for a Horseback Trail ride to Breakfast…she would return on Wednesday morning to do the same so we could watch the sunrise while ripping across the water on a Wave Runner.  On Tuesday night, the staff had picnic baskets ready for Bren and I…dinner without the children…followed by a boat ride at sunset…an awe inspiring experience. 

It was a week of perfect blend…time with Bren and I alone…and time with the entire family…Wednesday…We all scampered down to the lake (minus Kyle) to ride the banana boat…a wild ride to be insured by the driver “Leggo my Eggo”  An awesome time with the family…lots of laughs…and “Leggo” and I hit it off…as well as a 42 year old guy can hit it off with a College guy…I learned on the day that we left Pine Cove, that WE were his dedicated family he prayed for all week.

Macy and "Fender Bender"

Kyle and "Dance Pants"

Kyle with "Enigma" and "C- Pay"

Macy and Hope...getting on the Zip Line

Kyle and Judy Taylor

“My Eyes are Dry. My Faith is Old. My Heart is Hard. My prayers are cold …and I know how I ought to be, Alive to You…and Dead to me.” 

“What can be done for an old heart like mine? Soften it up with oil and wine.  The oil is you, your Spirit of Love. Please wash me anew with the wine of your love.”

We are back at home…reflecting…I just heard my daughter Macy say, ”I bet they are having Ice Cream Sundaes right not!”  I have lost count how many time my two daughters have watched the DVD given to each family reviewing the week.

What I have not lost sight of is the exuberance and spirit of the college student in regards to their faith…the excitement of serving others without request or expectations of anything in return…the unselfish act of pouring their life into us and our kids…the gracious patience of “Monkey Business” and “Liberty” as they coaxed my wife to begin the decent down the zip line…the crazy skits by “Fishface” and “Dance Pants”…the daily family devotions with “Woo Woo”…”Red Beats” always making the sure the horses were saddled up and ready to go every morning….the swimming pool basketball game with “Thunder from Down Under” and letting him know that the old man still had a hook shot…;-)

The Bible Study material was not new to us…neither was the marriage couples material…Don’t get me wrong….”His Word does not return void.”  But there were other things…subtle things that I needed to see….and hear…Like the testimony of Rick and Judy losing a child, to remind me that Kyle was a gift from above….or the Camp Director, Chris “Hip Shot” Sherrod having a heart to heart talk with the fathers….and don’t forget the excitement of the college students…who were the hands and feet of Christ that week…still excited about their faith…and “Leggo” who prayed for Team Elliott…all week long… 

 “What can be done for an old heart like mine? Soften it up with oil and wine.”

And for that week…THEY…the Staff served as the Oil and Wine…

"Leggo My Eggo" and Me...

Luke and "Snare" 

Not a bicycle seat...but I had a blast...this was a Friday afternoon cattle drive.

Super Hero Night...Breakfast Boy and Wobble Woman overcome the "Evil" Badazzler

Hope hoopin it up...

Kyle and "Oh No!"

When to PRESS ON!

Last night while we were warming up on a sultry, well groomed youth league park in Plano…my son, Luke and his Ranger Team were about to play the last game of the season…and RA Dickey was throwing a second 1 hitter in a row…the first time since 1988 when Dave Stieb of the Toronto Blue Jays threw two of those one hit wonders.  It should be noted that the cruel fate of baseball had both of Stieb’s back to back no hit outings being broken up with 2 outs, 2 strikes... in the ninth inning…oh the brutal reality.

I remember that 1996 spring day, on my commute home, when cruel fate would strike… just 8 years later from when the Baseball gods wreaked havac on Stiebs back to back one hit games.  The Rangers had sign RA Dickey to the “Big Leagues” with an impressive signing bonus of $810,000.00.  For a change, the Texas Rangers were focusing on a pitching phenom…a total paradigm shift from “lets bludgeon to death the other team with big bats.”

A Rangers physician saw Dickey’s right throwing arm hanging oddly in a photo and requested further evaluation.  The evaluation completed and Dickey’s signing bonus plummeted….to $75,000.00…the reason…Dickey had no ulnar collateral ligament of elbow joint.  Doctors were bewildered of how he could even perform day to day task without enormous pain…little lone hurl an 87 mph fast ball.  He labored in the minors…made it to the majors in 2001….but his stuff wasn’t very good…and in 2006 the Rangers slotted him as the 5^th hurler in the rotation only to be rocked by giving up 6 home runs in his season start.

In 2007, a guy by the name of Doug Melvin, GM for the Milwaukee Brewers signed him to the organization…Melvin should ring a bell for the Rangers fan…he was the GM for the Texas Rangers when they signed Dickey in 1996.  To cut to the chase…and to be brutally honest…Dickey’s ERA looked more like James LeBron’s rebound average than a big league pitching ERA.  He bounced around in the minors…from the Brewers…to the Mariners…then on to the Mets…

Somewhere along the way, RA Dickey learned how to throw the knuckle ball…yep…the much maligned knuckle ball.  The pitch that will give the batter fits…heck…most the time the pitcher doesn’t know where it’s going…but it seems Dickey throws it different…he actually pounds the strike zone with it…he doesn’t walk hitters with it…and here is the kicker…it can range in speed from 83 mph to 55 mph…that fact alone makes me want to write bad checks.  His ERA is now where “Holy Cow he can Pitch” ERA’s should be…teams that face the Mets now calculate out where Dickey is in the rotation and pray to the powers to be that allow the same brutal reality that faced Dickey back in 1996 to show mercy on their poor hitting souls in 2012.

This eclectic, avid reader and born again Christian is an enigmatic personality that has scores of life’s lessons wrapped up in his biography.  You never give up…you never quit…even when you labor in anonymity…you Press On despite what cruel reality comes your way...and continue to evaluate who you are…what you are…adapt…over come…and when you can’t seem to throw the fast ball to get an out…do something unorthodox…like maybe the knuckle…yeah…throw that knuckle…

And We Were Kids Again...

Baseball is an endurance sport…the grind of 162+ games of a full season…night after night…after night with only the occasional day off.  It is enough time for players to go in and out of slumps…sub par performances….multiple times.  The hard core fan loves it…analyzing counts on a batter…situational hitting…how to shift a defense on certain batter…how to pitch a player…the list is absolutely endless.  For the casual fan, Baseball is a sport with a slow rhythm….most of it mundane with a few moments of excitement.

You see there are games where you know something special is going to happen…remember a few years ago when the Season Home Run Record was in jeopardy…as the game approached with  the chance of Mark Mcquire rocketing past Roger Maris...the ticket prices went through the roof….the press was in full attendance.  It was the same on August 22, 1989….Nolan Ryan was scheduled to pitch…and expected to get his 5,000 strikeout…and somehow my brother had a ticket to the game.  He said that atmosphere was electric as the expectations mounted…and when the magic moment happened…the strobe lights of cameras made the old Arlington Stadium look like Club 54.

Then there are those games where something awesome may happen…but you can’t really plan for it…like a no hitter being thrown…or even more rare, the perfect game.  There have been only 19 of those in the modern era (defined from 1900)…and 21 ever in the history of Baseball.  Those games start out as normal games…but as they progress…the crowd excitement grows…the news wire picks up…and now MLB Network will cut into the game.

Last night was one of those games.  In Camden Yard, Baltimore Maryland…before only about 11,000 fans…Josh Hamilton did something that only  15 people before him have done. That’s right….there have been more perfect games thrown than what Josh did…hit 4 home runs in one game.  In fact he went 5 for 5 from the plate with 4 home runs and one double…18 bases total….more bases than Albert Pujols had in all of April.  What do Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Joe Dimaggio, and Ted Williams have in common?  None of them did what Josh did last night.  It is argued that just hitting a baseball is the hardest thing in sport to accomplish.  A professional that hits 3 out of 10 times for a lifetime is considered Hall of Fame…but to take one yard….that, not only indicates hand eye coordination, but the coveted Power…and then to do it 4 out  of 5 times in a single game…there are not many words to describe that…

For the casual fan, and before of the 11,000 Baltimore fans in Camden Yard…who by the way gave Texas Ranger, Josh, a standing ovation…the standard mundane game turned into pure excitement .  For the avid fan, well….it was something special to behold…something to tell your grandkids about…something beyond the media guide stats that you pore over.  Josh said when he rounded 2^nd Base on his last one and saw his teammates jumping around, it reminded him of playing Little League again…and the excitement that went with that.  That is why we love the sport so much in this country…it reminds us of childhood sandlots…and a summer afternoon with our buddies….for Baseball is an endurance sport…for over 150 years…it has endured…and last night was part of the reason why…Last night you were 12 again…and your buddy hit a bomb…and you and your teammates jumped around.

Life's Ride...

I am rolling…on a carbon frame Trek ...and through life.

Exhilarating….sometimes at break neck speeds…other times cruising along with no effort…

The climbing of hills and the descending into the depths…

At times the wind to your back, pushing you along with no effort…or the chilling head wind to be weathered...laboring.

Sometimes the ride is with friends…and other times the blaring silence of being alone.

Regardless, I continue….to push…and at the end…when the ride comes to a close, I pray that I have given it my all…no regrets.

For the blessing is in the ride granted.