Reaching the top of Everest, or any mountain for that matter, is a huge accomplishment. However, the bulk of any summit experience is mainly comprised of the weeks of acclimatizing and the days of exhausting climbing from camp to camp, which means that summiting is but a really small moment of the overall journey. By no stretch of the imagination am I a climber of any sort, but I do find that the act, or process, of climbing a mountain has some powerful parallels with the Unbound 200 journey I’m taking in 2026. Embracing this metaphor means that the lower slopes of my climb so far have been focused on the process of working with a coach, embracing the weekly work of following a training plan, enjoying the present moment as much as possible, and appreciating the personal transformation that’s been happening as I overcome obstacles. While I haven’t strapped on crampons and an oxygen tank, I have leaned into the structured training plan that Serena has laid out to help me reach my “peak”, which means that since early January I’ve been on the lower slopes of my “climb” to be my fittest self for the 2026 Unbound 200.
It may be cliche, and I know folks way smarter than me have pontificated on the importance of the journey over the peak/finish line, but I’m really trying to embrace the process as I work towards my late May summit in Emporia, KS. What have the lower slopes looked like so far? Well, they included beginning the year with ten days off the bike, which was hard for me to wrap my brain around at first, but then I realized after speaking with my coach that I have not given my body a deep reset in over four years, which only happened because I broke my leg in January of 2022. According to Brad Stulberg, a bestselling author, speaker, and executive coach who focuses on human performance, well-being, and sustainable success, “the biggest breakthroughs in sport, creativity, and business tend to follow periods of rest and renewal.”
I was definitely “hungry” when I got to start riding again and knew that I was beginning my climb to Kansas on a solid foundation of really well rested residual fitness. Probably the most surprising initial learning for me, considering that I have only ridden for fun for the past seven years, am typically a “seat of my pants” kind of ride planner, and have subscribed to the quantity over quality training plan for many years, was the security I found in having my coach tell me what to do each day. Knowing what’s expected keeps me accountable, allows me to plan my training around my busy work schedule, and has forced me to get creative with when/where I get my workouts in. And if I’m being totally honest, there’s a bit of an endorphin hit that accompanies checking fitness tasks off my list, which has been extremely rewarding, even when I was cursing my coach’s prescribed workouts. What have I been doing? Well, for the past 10 weeks I’ve been chewing on my stem, shooting snot rockets, and slobbering on myself while doing VO2 max efforts, intervals, over unders, tempo pace, all day pace, functional threshold power pace, sprints, and various other efforts to blow the cob webs off my high end fitness which has been moth balled for years.
Speaking of blowing out the pipes, trying to be my fittest 55 year old self on the bike for an event that’s been part of my cycling DNA since 2013 means that part of my climb to Kansas included testing the engine at a local mixed terrain race here in Northern California. I have been migrating to the Grasshopper Adventure Series events for the past 29 years to partake in this annual rite of passage and can honestly say that these gatherings were foundational in my development as a racer and helped further stoke my passion for riding bikes, so it seemed fitting to have the Huffmaster event be the first test of the season for me.
Funny how no amount of training, or warming up, ever seems to prepare me properly for the stout kick in the nuts that is the full gas start of a gravel race, no matter how grassroots it is or not. The 60 mile version started with a mass start of a hundred or so folks, and I knew from my experience two years prior that the bulk of the opening miles were all paved roads, so staying at the front was key. The first real obstacle of the day was a three mile climb that came about fifteen miles into the race, so my coach advised that I try to be positioned at the pointy end because it was highly likely that the stout kicker might snap me off the group. As the course went upwards, I went backwards, my elastic, and position in the group, getting stretched. I made it over the climb in about 18th position, not with anyone, but with a few riders just ahead of me. Instead of panicking, I knew that the next 30 miles were undulating, which fits my riding style, so I went into diesel mode, tapped into the systems that my coach had been training, and started bringing folks back. By the time we hit the dirt, and the pivotal Huffmaster climb, I had made my way up to 10th and was with a group of three. In the remaining 15 miles we scooped up one more rider, which meant we now had a train of four to work the final undulating miles back into the small farming community of Maxwell, Ca. While I didn’t set any land speed records on the day, I did win our four up sprint to take 7th overall and 2nd 50+, which felt like significant progress to me.
I’m still only mid-mountain on my climb to Unbound, the peak of the big day looming way off on the horizon, and I know I still have countless hours of training to do if I want to be at my best. But you know what gives me hope? These early months of training have reminded me of the value of hard work, the importance of following coach’s plan, that persistence pays off, and that I actually DO like the process of chasing a goal. Be sure to stay tuned for more updates as I continue my climb to Kansas.