When I reflect on the Birkie, a few things come to mind. I envision old friends, prepping my bike, pre-race anxiety, and inevitably a cold beer, and this year was no different.
The weather was perfect and the course was as well, this time around I rode in the "Big Fat 47K," whereas, previously I've consistently participated in the "Chico 21K." I was excited for the opportunity to conquer the 30-mile challenge through woods. Knowing the "Chico" typically takes me about an hour at full race pace, I knew I would have to slow down and pace myself, so I wouldn't bonk 15 miles in.
At the 10-mile mark, my nerves began to settle, allowing me the freedom to really to enjoy the amazing trail through the forest. Roughly 20-miles in,myself being a 38 year old dude, I was humbled by a pack of middle-aged women flying past me, as they casually conversed about the appearance-related benefits they were gaining from the event, exclusively. With only a few miles remaining, as I was passing through the final aid station, a particularly enthusiastic spectator gifted me a flat Coke and a push to the end of the station. The drink was a much-needed boost of sugar, even after dining on two pop tarts, strawberry and brown sugar cinnamon seem to treat me well during a race.
I rode a Frame Alaskan carbon, full rigid with Pub carbon wheels / Terrene Cake eater tires (10psi)
This really has nothing to do with the race but I had to share a pic of my friend Kermit eating it pre-race.