Teva Mountain Games: Riding with the Pros

I’m standing at the start line to the Nature Valley Mountain Bike Championships, part two of the four-event GNC Ultimate Mountain Challenge at Vail’s Teva Mountain Games . In front of me is a sea of professional mountain bikers—quads of steel, full-body Lycra, and grimaces that seemed to show no weakness. Somewhere toward the front of the pack are riding legends like Ned Overend and Floyd Landis. Let me repeat: I’m standing at the same start line as Mountain Bike Hall of Famer and former world champ Ned Overend. In case you need clarification, I’m a magazine editor, not a pro athlete. I sit in front of a computer for nine hours a day, probably about the same amount of time many of these riders spend in the saddle. In other words, I am utterly—even humiliatingly—out of my league. When the race director counts down the pro women (plus the handful of us non-pros competing in the Ultimate Mountain Challenge), I settle in comfortably at the back of the pack. I wind up a dirt fire road, then keep climbing on single track for what seems like forever. The course is just under seven miles, and we’re doing three laps. The decent is a muddy, steep singletrack with signs marking “Black Diamond” trail. I’m hanging in there and when I finally pass through the start/finish area a whopping hour after I started, the crowds cheer for the lone rider in dead last—me. On the second lap, my main goal is getting out of the way of the lightening-fast men that peddle past me like I’m standing still. I keep waiting for Floyd Landis to overtake me, and I distract myself from the ache in my legs by imaging what I’ll say when he rides past. “Hey Floyd. Nice job!” Or maybe, if I’m feeling particularly sassy, “Looking good, Floyd. Hope they’re not drug testing after this race!” Very few of the pro riders say a word to me, as I slouch into the bushes on the side of the trail to make way for them, or, on one particularly embarrassing occasion, cart-wheeling off my bike on a steep decent in an attempt to clear the trail for the pros lurking behind me. But when Floyd finally does lap me, he’s the one who says something. “Nice work,” he grunts, and then swiftly moves out of sight. So what if I came in last? At least I can go home and brag about getting lapped by Floyd. For full results, see tevamountaingames.com.

Comments

[Mc]

Dear Megan,

Thank you for the unique and upbeat perspective during the Teva Mountain Games.

It takes fortitude to get out of the office chair and even more courage to come in last than it does first.

I agree. "Nice Job."