Johnathan’s Cape Epic Race Report
Johnathan’s Cape Epic Race Report
Training
Well, any race requires hard work and training. For Cape Epic being an 8 day mountain bike race in March I knew that this was going to require some long days of training but what I didn’t count on was virtually zero ability to get outside for long rides in January and February. So I did what anyone would do – I bought a Zwift membership. In case you have thought about how much fun Zwift would be for 5 hours, I will save you the suspense……it sucks! Hours 1-3 are fun and manageable and then you get to the part where your brain tells you this is really stupid and you start questioning why in the world you decided to put yourself through the torture. The worst part is when you finish this for the first time, you realize it is going to be your life for 2 months….that’s when it really sets in. If you ever find yourself doing this, here are a couple of tips: 1) make a couple of phone calls during some of the down periods. Chat with friends who can take your mind off of things for 10 or 15 minutes during the ride. 2) Podcasts are your friend. If you’re interested in the topic, it can help 90 minutes go by pretty quickly. 3) Use music sparingly. If you get it going too early, it becomes unmotivating later. 4) Personally, movies don’t work. There’s too much emotion in movies and the ups and downs impact my ability to stay steady through the workout….to me it is proof of how connected our minds and bodies really are.
So Cape Epic is an 8 day (Prologue + 7 Stage) mountain bike race across the Western Cape of South Africa. The race route changes annually but this year it was roughly 650km long with 16,650m of climbing. To put that in perspective, I don’t think I could find that much climbing in Ontario if I rode every single climb there is here! The other interesting part of this race was the idea that you race as a team and have to stay within two minutes of your partner at all times. My partner Eric Siebert was far more experienced at mountain biking (4 Leadville finishes with an 8:25 PB) but on paper and in summer racing we are usually very similarly matched. I hoped we would be a good team, but who knows until you’re in it!
My training had gone pretty well and I went into the race feeling pretty well – or at least I felt pretty good. All of the indoor and winter style training made it hard to really know where I was at, but Nigel said I was ready and he’s never steered me wrong before, so ready we were and off we went.
The Prologue
Day 1 of the race was upon us and we had estimated 18-20km/hour would be our speed. They use this to seed you for the prologue. This had us starting pretty close to the end of the pack (meaning we were supposed to be fast). The plan was to use this as an opportunity to get the body warmed up, not hammer. It was 20km long with 600m of climbing on the slopes of Table Mountain National Park. Here we were all of a sudden sitting in the starting hut and the countdown was on…..3, 2, 1….GO. The next thing I knew I was riding on a paved section of road and we made our first pass. OK, going exactly as I expected. Start on some grass, move on to some paved road. Then it happened…..we made a right hand turn and the path turned up. By path, I mean the trail COVERED in rocks. In my mind I figured this must just be a rocky section. We kept riding, and the rocks kept being there. Then it happened, we reached the first descent. Guess what, more rocks…..and a 90 degree turn at the bottom. From the guy in Ontario who had owned a mountain bike for less than 6 months, this was totally foreign and freaked me out. First corner I ended up off the side of the road in a bush! You know what, I will get the hang of it I said. So we kept on going, kept on riding our race. We got to a really steep section and I said to myself – you’ve got to be kidding. Up we went and it took all I had to get up the hill to ‘Dead Man’s Tree’. Now we were at the highest peak of the day and it was time to get down. First step in this was going to be something called the “Landrover Technical Terrain” which today was a section called Plum Pudding. I had watched the video on this section over and over and it didn’t look too bad. WRONG. We came over the wooden bridge that signaled the start and the section of bridge down was steeper than almost anything I had ever ridden – this was going to be nuts. I basically hung on for dear life and closed my eyes while grasping the brakes and praying that I fell and broke something so I wouldn’t have to do this any longer….I was now scared and my biggest fears about this race were coming to fruition – I just didn’t have the technical skills to get through it. Magically, my collar bone stayed intact and I rode up to Eric and said, ‘Holy Shit’ that was crazy. We got through the rest of the prologue with me on my brakes and Eric descending patiently. We crossed the line, 10 minutes later than we projected but we crossed it with the rubber side down. I realized at this point that Eric was going to be a much stronger rider in this race than me and what had started as equals had quickly become Batman and Robin – in it together but one clearly superior to the other.
Camp
As we make it to Hermanus, we now get our first taste of what the camping experience will be like for the next 7 nights. You arrive to a sea of red tents….pretty wild. You and 1000 of your closest friends sleeping under the stars every night. The porto-pottys and showers are surprisingly clean and are constantly being maintained by someone with a mop. Not for one minute did things feel dirty – but you still realize how important hand sanitizer is going to be to your life for the next week. The food it turns out, is managed by the same chef that looks after team Quickstep. Not only cool, but also great that he understand the needs of multi-day endurance racing – pasta at every meal, warm soups to soothe the stomach, it was a welcome surprise! Then comes our first morning and we awake to the sound of bagpipes in the distance promptly at 5am. 5am feels like the middle of the night….oh wait, it’s 11pm at home and I’ve only been here for 3 days so ya, it’s the middle of the night. All in all, the camp experience was amazing and I think you miss a part of the race if you don’t experience it this way!
Stage 1
We started in group H. Yes, there was an A, B, C, D, E, F AND G who had all ridden faster than us in the prologue and got to head out earlier for Stage 1. Stage 1 was the longest stage of the race at 112km. I figured this meant we were going to be 5-6 hours in the saddle. Seems reasonable, right? Well off we went and after two hours we had managed to get to the 30km mark. I did some math and said ‘oh shit, this is going to be an 8 hour day’. Thoughts of Nigel (and Eric yelling at me) to stay on my nutrition were in my head. Eat, drink, eat, drink. Weather wasn’t too crazy today so this was going to be doable and this was the longest stage so it would only get easier from here. We crossed the line in good spirits but with me realizing that this was going to be a looooong week. The other thing I realized that the climbing in this race was serious. Time to go to the bike shop and add some more teeth to the rear cassette….I needed ALL the help I could get.
Stage 2
Back with our friends in group H. We didn’t lose ground but didn’t gain any either. I guess the prologue thing worked pretty well. Today was our first ‘Moving Day’ where we started at our Camp in Hermanus but would end the day in Oak Valley. I was prepared for what this was going to be like now and I knew I was in for a long day. The stage was named ‘Enter Sandman’ and it was supposed to be 84km but due to the recent fires, it was lengthened to 97km. It was a long day, but rather uneventful. Rubber side stayed down, sandy climbs and descents but all manageable. I had a few scary moments, but this was probably the most nirvana of all stages. No surprises, long day but as expected. Another day done, more food in the belly……and my jet lag was starting to get a little better.
Stage 3
So the profile of this stage looked daunting with one MAJOR climb on the day. Tomorrow was the ‘Time Trial’ ie shorter day so it was all about getting through today to get some more rest tomorrow. Start of the ride was as expected and then off in the distance from the first aid station we saw it…..The Groelandberg. Imagine a legit European mountain climb but a farm road covered in rocks as the path up. This was going to be long. We started the climb in sunshine and 25 degrees. By the time we summitted an hour or so later, it was POURING rain and cold. If you’ve ever done any high mountain climbing you know how cold descending is in the best of times – and this wasn’t the best of times. Now it was time to release my suspension lockout that I had on for efficiency when climbing to prepare for the wet, rocky descent. Oooops, it’s broken and I’m now stuck with no front suspension. Let me paint the picture a little better. I’m freezing cold (shivering at this point), soaking wet, can’t see because I’m in the clouds, descending a 10km, 1300m peak that is a farm road covered in ruts and rocks, on a mountain bike that I’ve never raced on. Oh, and did I mention that I am scared out of my mind? I looked at my partner and said, “our goal was rubber side down, I’m taking this one easy”. As we descended my arms turned to mush as they had become the suspension. We must have gone past 5 crashes where people were not looking very good. Thankfully, nobody had gone over the edge, but it didn’t make it less scary in all of the corners. I had to stop a couple of times to regain my composure, my grip strength and give my seizing arms a chance to recover, but we got down. We lost a lot of time based on how many people flew past us (well, me) but we were down safely. Another day over 8 hours…..OUCH. But, another finish line. We got through the day, but I had gained a new friend – saddle sores. I also had yelled at my partner a few times as he was trying to encourage me and I was in the wrong place for it. So there was some partnership mending to be done at dinner tonight.
Stage 4
Prior to Stage 4 (the 39km time trial) I realized I needed to visit “The Bum Clinic”. Yes, it’s not a joke, they have a bum clinic. If you’re interested they are hiring but I should give you some insight into your working conditions. As a nurse here, you are assigned a flood light. Athlete walks in and straddles the flood light and you politely ask them to grab their ankles so you can have a look. You now have your canvas to work with…..now try to make that mess comfortable for the next x number of hours on a bike saddle. Interested in the job?
Today was meant to be a shorter, easier day. We got into the starting chute and I sat on my bike and said “Eric, I can’t sit on my saddle, it hurts too much”. Off we go with me standing as much as I can. Now what you realize is this also does a real number on your quads. So I’m now having to fight between sitting on my saddle in pain (imagine the bumps and rocks) vs painful quads. Then, it happened…..my eggbeater pedal broke and came off the spindle so I now have one functioning pedal with about 15km to go in the time trial. The good news is, this isn’t the first time I have dealt with this issue. The bad news is, there is no easy fix and we have 10km of single track riding left today. I basically had to walk the single track climbs as the cornering with pressure on the pedal made it come off every time. I would mount back up for the descents and pray that it wouldn’t come off at the wrong time. My partner was patient, we lost a lot of time, but we got through the day. Funny thing was, my butt hurt a lot less once the pedal broke. Goes to show you that the brain really does focus on whatever is the worst situation at the time.
Stage 5 – The Queen Stage
I showed up at breakfast and looked at my partner and said “my ass hurt sleeping all night, I don’t think I can get on the bike today”. He looked at me and said “after everything you’ve gotten through, I think it would be a really bad decision to not start”. He was right. I’ve been here before. You have to show up. We had been moved down to group I after the rough couple of rides the last two days. We were the first ones in the chute, and I was not looking forward to sitting on my saddle. I had decided to forgo the bum clinic today and go back to my tried and tested solution for saddle sores….I figured yesterday didn’t go well and it honestly couldn’t be any worse. So, the gun went off and we started riding. After about 5 standing pedal strokes I sat down and…..it felt OK. Hmmm…..so did my legs. Eric said “I thought you wanted to start slow?”. Nope, today the cycling gods had given me legs. The groups all set off 5 minutes apart and by the time we had been riding for 12 minutes, we had caught the first of the group ahead. One by one, we started to pick them off. I had about 3 hours of what felt like some of the best riding I’ve ever done. Like all good things, it came to an end and I had to manage myself for the rest of the day as usual, but we had made up some major time. Eric said to me in the start gate that it was going to be another 8 hour day. 15 minutes in I said “Eric, we aren’t spending 8 hours out here today”. True to my word, we got it done in 7:38…for sure our best day so far on a relative basis.
Stage 6
Today was the day I face my biggest fear – heat. On day 3, I started looking at weather forecasts and saying how I think I should quit because I wouldn’t be able to manage the heat on Stage 6 that we were going to get. Today was going to be 37 degrees and based on history, we were in for another 7-8 hour day in the saddle. How in the world was I going to be able to handle that? I have struggled with heat a lot over the years so I knew this was going to be hard for me. It was time to take hydration to the next level. I studied the day and had a rough idea of how long between aid stations. The really tough part of the day was going to be between aid stations 1 and 2 as I figured it would be about 3 hours ride time in between and it would be from 10am-1pm so some of the hottest part of the day. Did I mention it was a lot of climbing in here too meaning very little wind created from speed. One pedal stroke at a time and one drink of water at a time, I worked my way through the day. In the long section I drank myself dry which included a 2L camelback and two water bottles. My partner even gave me some of his water. Let me tell you, when we got to aid station number 2 after the long section, I knew I could get through this if I dealt with it properly. My partner was patient today, helped me face this and when I crossed the finish line on the penultimate day, tears filled my eyes. Not only had I gotten through the toughest day and faced my fears of the heat but with one day left, I finally had confidence that I was going to get through the race – something until this moment, I really didn’t believe would happen.
Stage 7
The feelings on the start line were those of celebration. Everyone had that same feeling – we were almost there. All the hard work was about to pay off in those glorious last 500m of riding towards the finish line of Cape Epic. I figured it would be kind of like the GC riders in the Tour de France where they get to sip champagne, take pictures and spin their legs (unless racing for the stage win like the sprinters). Boy was I wrong! This was another really tough stage of vineyard climbs. The vineyard climbs are absolutely relentless because you are rarely able to use the momentum from the downhill prior to start the next climb because the corners are just too tight/sketchy (for a guy who doesn’t ride a MTB, anyways). We finally got to the 50km mark and we had been told that at that point it was all down hill. I was elated. We rode out of that aid station and then the road turned…..UP. UP AGAIN. Insert really angry/tired/irritable Johnathan here. I almost lost it on my partner who basically just laughed at me and then proceeded to make fun of me for 3 days after the race about this moment. It was probably 500m at 2% and I was acting like it was Mont Ventoux they hadn’t told me about. The brain is a funny thing, it reacts to expectations, not realities. Anyways, not long after we did start the descent and headed to the finish line 15km away. Eric and I made the final turn, grabbed on to the corners of the Canadian flag and rode the finishing chute with shear joy…..it was better than I could have dreamt it.
I left South Africa a new athlete and person. In life and in Ironman racing, you can’t spend time worrying about what is to come. It serves no purpose. We have to spend our time living in the moment and do what we can right now to achieve our goals. It might be hot in 3 days, you might have a history of blowing up at mile 10 of the run, you might be scared of a particular descent coming up in 40km……it doesn’t matter. All that matters is what you are doing in the here and now. Success in the small moments along the way, lead to the goal being achieved no matter what the obstacle.
I have a lot of people to thank for this experience. The truth is, I had the best partner in this race that someone could ask for. Eric stuck with me, encouraged me and inspired me. We laughed uncontrollably at times and fought like the passionate a-type people we are at other times. I wouldn’t change any of it. We have become close friends over the last 2 years but I think this cemented this as a life long friendship. Eric, we will always have Impi!
I had a number of friends and NRG athletes reaching out and supporting me on the way to the start line, during the race and afterwards. The encouraging words and support were invaluable in getting me to the start line, and to the finish line.
My coach Nigel has been working with me for years. When I came to him with the idea of the race, he basically said I’m crazy (based on past history). Nigel knew exactly when to push me and when to force me to back off in my training. He knew our number one challenge would be me burning out in the winter months and he made sure that we avoided it at all costs. He was on top of my training every single workout and I know that without his guidance, the dream wouldn’t have been achieved.
My wife Laura and daughters Isla and Maren are my biggest fans and greatest source of inspiration. In the really dark times of the race, all I needed to do was picture them 200m up the road yelling “Go Daddy Go” and I would find strength in myself I didn’t know existed. My family supports me in my training and racing to such an incredible degree, I don’t know how I can every truly thank them for it. My goal every race is to thank them by pushing myself as far as I can go. They allow me to chase my dreams and to give it anything but my best just wouldn’t be fair to them.
All in all, this was an incredible experience. As someone who is always chasing a time or placing in a race, it was invaluable to go out and remember what it was like to be someone who just wanted to finish. The joy of the struggle, the emotions you go through….it awakened the newbie in me again. This experience truly lived up to its name – EPIC!
