On Saturday April 18th, Karel and I participated in the Cohutta Races, organized by Chainbuster (a wonderful family-run company who puts on excellent events).
Karel completed the Big Frog 65-mile event in 5:35 (7200 feet elevation) and placed 2nd AG (50-59) and I completed the Cohutta 100-mile event in 9:25 (~13,000 feet elevation) and placed 1st overall female.
Before I talk about the race, I need to talk about the day before it because getting to that start line was harder than many of those miles that followed.
The travel went smoothly. It was an easy 3.5 hour drive and very scenic. I rented the cutest Airbnb just 20 min outside of the Ocoee Whitewater center. The food (grocery store) options were limited (Dollar General is the best option) so we brought all of our food. My mom and Alan came with us so they could do some hiking and watch Sunny while we raced. I love bringing Sunny along as he is a great companion and I love making memories with him - just like we did with Campy.
We arrived on Thursday around 6pm and had a nice evening relaxing in the Airbnb. On Friday morning, we left around 9am to pre-ride some of the course.
On Friday, about 9.5 miles into our 22-mile pre-ride, Karel and I came to a rooty section on flat ground. It was actually very beautiful with the river running to our left. As I approached the roots, I stumbled and unclipped. We talked through a better line choice, and I went back for another try.
What I didn't account for was that the upper roots were mossy and wet. I didn't carry enough speed this second go around and I fell really hard. Head first, then right wrist, elbow, hip. I cried and laid on the ground for several minutes. It was my first serious crash since starting this sport a few years ago, and even though I’ve had several “falls” I have never had a crash like this before. It really shook me up.
What happened next was almost scarier than the fall itself. My brain went into full protection mode. Every root I saw - things I could have ridden easily an hour earlier - suddenly looked impossible. I would see a root ahead and I would come to a stop, unclip and walk over the root. I literally couldn't ride my bike. It was as if in a few minutes, I was learning how to ride my mountain bike for the first time.. My mind had decided that roots were the most dangerous obstacle on the trail and I couldn’t convince myself otherwise.
Karel, to his credit, kept me moving. He told me I had to keep riding because my brain needed new data to overwrite what the crash had written. So I kept pedaling, even with tears in my eyses. Near the end of the ride, small bits of confidence started returning. But that night, I seriously questioned whether I should start the race.
I felt like I had failed before the race even began.
I woke up at 5am and tried to put the fall behind me but my wrist and forearm were still tender to touch. We left the Airbnb around 6:10am and drove 20 minutes to the race start. I was nervous. Karel’s race started an hour behind him so he stayed around (along with my mom’s partner Alan) to watch me start.
At 7am, I started the race. Thankfully, the race-day adrenaline kicked in. It’s a strange feeling but it works almost all the time. The body just knows what to do once the race starts. I rode almost everything — two water crossings and one significant tree stump being my only exceptions. No falls. With only 78 athletes in the 100 mile race, the field spread out really quickly. I was by myself for almost 7 hours (I passed a few guys throughout that time) and I was really excited to see people at the 5 aid stations. Let’s just say I spent a lot of time with my own thoughts (I never ride with headphones). The climbs were long (13,000 feet of climbing and there were 70 miles of gravel after 30 miles of single track. The scenery was incredible with rivers, rocks and mountains.
The course was very well marked. I also rode with the course downloaded on my computer. There were a few times when my course would say I was off course and needed to do a u-turn but that happens sometimes in off-road conditions. In the last hour, I almost got off course because there were no signs and we later heard a local picked up the signs. Sometimes this happens - that's why knowing the course is helpful. The aid station volunteers were very kind and there was very little traffic on the gravel roads (maybe 5-8 cars total).
A good way to think of this race is 30 miles of single track and 70 miles on gravel - all on the mountain bike with less than a mile of road. There was all kinds of gravel from smooth and tiny to chunky and loose.
I really enjoyed riding my mountain bike on the gravel. I underestimated the placement of the aid stations. I dropped another hydration pack and bottle at aid 3 (59 miles) but I should have stopped to refill my pack (not just my bottle) at aid station 2 (mile 42). It took me a little over 4 hours to get to the aid station and another 2 hours to get to my hydration pack (which was at mile 61 - At that point I had been riding for 6 hours and covered over 7000 feet elevation). I stopped at mile 85 at aid station 5 to refill a bottle. I was a little short on fluids but did a good job with carbs. It was prefect weather - not too hot or cool. I aimed for 90g carbs per hour from INFINIT Fructose and consumed an additional 5 gels throughout the race. In total I had ~100g carbs per hour and around 24 ounce fluid. While I was ok with my fluids, I didn't consume them frequently but had to ration them due to the aid station placements and my error on not recognizing how long it would take to get to my filled hydration pack.
The course has a good profile in that most of the climbing happens in 65 miles. The descends are not super fast but rather flowy but you do have to be careful of ruts in the ground and loose gravel on the switchbacks. There was one water crossing where I got off the bike as I didn't want to risk falling after the single track section.
I really enjoyed the race and although it felt long, I never felt any low moments throughout the event. It would have been nice to talk to someone or have more people around me to ride with but it was a good day to be with my own thoughts in such a beautiful location.
After I finished, we waited around 2 hours for the rest of the podium to finish and then they did the awards. I appreciated that they waited for the other two females as it was important to recognize everyone on the podium. The post race food was great - they had tacos (beans for vegetarians) and chips. As the overall female, I won $500! It's really cool to see prize money for amateurs (or professionals). I really hope to see more females showing up to mountain bike events as it's so much fun to ride off road and there are so many different courses for different abilities.
Around 6pm we headed back to the cabin and watch IM Texas on YouTube. I was pretty empty/spent on Sunday. We went back to the race venue to pick up my aid station bags (which we had to drop off on Friday at the race venue, anytime after picking up our packet) and collected my money.
A FEW LESSONS FOR EVERY ATHLETE AND FITNESS ENTHUSIAST
1. Setbacks don't disqualify you, they prepare you - A bad workout, an injury, a rough training day - none of these mean you're not ready. They're part of the process. The question isn't whether you struggle, it's whether you still show up when it does.
2. Your brain needs new evidence after a fear response - When something frightens or hurts you, your nervous system doesn't just forget. The only way to rewrite that fear is to keep moving through it. Of course, you should do it carefully, with support and safety. Stopping entirely and never trying again, only reinforces what your brain already decided.
3. Confidence isn't the absence of doubt, it's acting despite it - I went to that start line very nervous. I wasn't sure I could handle the single track. Real confidence isn't feeling certain, it's having the courage to find out. You don't have to feel ready, you just have to try.
4. Preparation rituals matter, even when they go sideways - My pre-ride habit exists for a reason - it builds familiarity and lowers uncertainty. The crash disrupted that, but the habit still put me on the course and still gave me information. Don't abandon the routines that serve you just because one instance gets complicated.
5. Finishing when it's hard is its own kind of victory - Not every race will feel triumphant at mile one. Some of my most meaningful finishes come from the races where I struggled. The version of you that shows up anyway, that's the athlete worth becoming.