I headed into Kansas this year with limited miles but more saddle time than I have had in the last 2 years. The "any time on a bike is time on a bike" method was all I really had time for this year. Whether it was 33 miles, 21 miles, 8 miles, or even 3 miles, it was all I had and I relished it. Previously I would rake up the miles by commuting during the work week then getting long rides on the weekends. It's been 3 years since I've had any "weekends" and long work hours make long commutes hard to get things done around the home. So I compromised and improvised.
Commutes were frequent, but not regular. 60 miles on average and about 2 times a week. Regular 20ish mile rides on Wednesdays, Thursday morning mtb rides followed by after work Juniors rides of about 30 miles made up most of my training "regimen." My longest ride to date was a 68 mile gravel ride months ago. It would have to do.
I was in shape to complete, but not compete this year. Which is probably for the best as mentally I needed a complete more so than a compete. That's not to say it made it any easier on me.
With limited gear options on the 29'er due to lack of additional chainrings, I had 2 options: an on the spinny side 59 gear inches or an on the mashy side 64 gear inches. 64 would have been perfect as long as the Kansas headwinds didn't show up, which they typically always do so I opted for the easier option. Gearing wise, it was a good choice. I was self-governed to not go out to hard, which is very easy to do at the start of Kanza, only to find yourself under-hydrated and over-exerted at 25 miles in when the headwinds get you.
This year I was rolling along pretty well. I was nestled in the first group off the leaders for the first 10 miles. I was comfortable but bouncing a bit. By mile 15 I found myself in the lead group (the leaders had blown the turn and were about 2 miles off in the wrong direction). This is when I rolled up to a fellow on an IndyFab and we started chatting. Turns out we both were "old Zac's" of
Dicky's (it was Elk who'd later go on to finish 3rd SS).
We chatted for a while until a sudden ruckus came from behind and the original "leaders" engulfed us as they made their way past us. We hadn't known they'd botched the turn so suddenly we found ourselves in a new situation and we all jumped onto the train. A few miles in and I reminded myself I didn't need any of that, plus my gearing was starting to show it's spinny-ness. I backed off into my own pace again and rode solo for most of the race (about 179 miles lone-wolfing it between packs).
Had I known how strong I would be throughout the entire race and the legs I'd have at the end, I would have sprung for a 34 tooth chainring and putting me at my preferred 61.6 gear inch. The taller gearing would have allowed me to roll at 18mph more comfortably than I could with the 59gi, as evidenced by my first ever case of stage 1 pressure ulcers below my sit bones. As it was I bounced my way along at 15.5-16 mph.
But be that as it may, I needed to com-plete, not pete and my gearing made it so. I finished in 16:36 (which would have been 16:28 or less had I stayed with
Backcountry Research Teammates Lee and
John who made the correct turn and didn't go for the 2 extra miles) exactly where I had hoped to finish - before 17 hours.
I felt great throughout the whole event. I was fueling well and never got sick. I was tracking food intake by miles and water by time. I kept to about 100-150 calories per hour and about a water bottle every 45-50 minutes. I've learned my lessons the hard way. Electrolyte intake was carefully monitored and calories were kept at a minimum to prevent gastric shutdown. Bottles were calorie free to help keep track of caloric intake and so I could adjust hydration needs based on temperature and conditions, yet not adversely affect my food intake.
Monster and me recovering at Check Point 3
I did get a few punches landed from the 3rd leg (59 miles in the heat of the day) where I rode the last 15 miles (about an hour and 15 minutes) without water. I was wishing for a lemonade stand, damn lazy youth of today. That left me pissed off and fired up to finish though. I did have to take about an hour to recover from the deficit before leaving checkpoint 3 and thanks to Grant and H for the ice towel and H's quick blue icy thinking, I left feeling great, but behind on time. So much for a 15 hour finish.
I rode the first 19 of the remaining 37 miles solo, lost in my iPod enjoying the setting sun and the vastness that is Kansas. As dark was settling in, I ran into some fellow racers lost in Americus. We joined forces to combine lights and help track for markers, which seemed to disappear the closer we got to town, making the map more and more important. I had been keeping my map in my Revelate Designs mountain feedbag's webbed pocket, but somehow when I reached for it, it was gone. Leaving me reliant upon others or risk blowing a turn and getting lost. While checking the map with fellow rider Josh, a group rolled passed us and I heard two people say in tandem "There's Thad" "There's Thad" and I sped up after them. It was John and Lee. Hell yeah, we were going to finish strong!
They were both running smaller gearing than normal and for that, I think we out gunned them a bit as they fell off pace. We were checking for a turn and they caught back on, thankfully because John made the right navigation call after a strange left/right turn that didn't match up to what the map illustrated (which is lucky for John because I declared we'd all get to punch him in the arm if he was wrong). Then they were off the back again and were off the front, hammering away a mile into the wrong direction. I think I heard them yell, but it was too late, we were gone. After realizing our mistake we map checked, raced back the additional mile, and were back on course and headed for home. I'm happy Josh and I were well matched pace wise, he made the last miles in more fun. I'd missed out having lone wolfed it so much of the day that having someone else to work with made the miles tick passed quickly.

Soon enough we were high five-ing kids and greeted by roaring cheers as we made our way down the chute and across the finish line in downtown Emporia. Finishers of the DK200.