I rode the Flight Centre Epic for the fourth time yesterday. I have three full-length Epics (and one half) under my belt now, along with four other 100km mtb enduros and three 6-hour races. So I should have learned something by now.

But all I have learned is that every time you step out onto the course for an enduro, it’s going to hurt.

And it did. My time for the event was 7 hrs 3 mins 21 sec. Which is a little bit slower than the last couple of years, where I’ve been a whisker under 7 hours. I was 106th out of 187 in my category (40-49 men), and 303rd out of 525 in the 100km event.

But the time and the placing isn’t really the important thing, especially for pack fodder such as me. It has to be about the experience, the journey, & finding the motivation to continue. And on that score, I found yesterday’s event to be really hard. I’m not claiming sympathy from anyone, I choose to do this to myself.

My faithful readers with long memories will know that last year we had a ‘team’ of four. This year it was just me riding, and a work mate, Sholto, as my support crew.

It was a cool start at Preston Peak, south of Toowoomba. BOM reckons about 6 degrees Celsius. Didn’t see as many mates at the start line as last year, because the organisers have separated the categories. The oldies (40-49, 50-59, 60+) and the heavyweights (‘Clydesdales’, riders who weigh more than 95kgs) started at 7 am.

Most of the Daisy Hill Wednesday morning crew are in the 30-39 age group, which started half an hour later.

So off we went, about 250 elderly riders. And straight away up the first hill I could tell there was something just a bit wrong.

After cleaning up my bike the previous Sunday, I had put it in for new chain-rings at my local bike shop during the week. And for some inexplicable reason, the bike shop staff must have fiddled with the settings on the rear shock. It felt spongy. I looked down and saw that the platform setting, which stops the shock activating with normal pedalling, was off. So I flicked the lever back across to ‘on’ and kept riding. But it still felt different to normal. Softer, with noticeable pedal bob when I was out of the saddle.

Eventually after about five or 10km of up and down in reasonable heavy traffic, I took the opportunity to stop on one of the walking-up-the-hill sections to have a closer look. The shock had been changed to medium setting when I have had it set on firm for 12 months or more. How annoying!

Still I was feeling that the level of exertion was about the same as previous events, as I made my way through the Ma Ma Creek single-track section to the first checkpoint.

I fueled up and headed up the hill on the climb of the Razorback. A steady pace all the way to the top, and if I felt I was struggling a bit more than last year, it might have been down to the fact that last year I rode a super-light (borrowed) carbon hardtail, and  this year I was on my own bike.

Which was fantastic on the downhill sections! I made it back down to the valley floor of the Devil’s Tail downhill in no time flat.

I made it to the second checkpoint still on my schedule, about 10-15 minutes before the 50km (half-Epic) riders were due to start. And with hundreds of riders and their supporters all over the site, I simply couldn’t find Sholto, and he couldn’t find me. Oh well. So once again with a full hydration bladder in the back pack I set off for the second half of the event.

Once again I found the third 25 to be the hardest stage of the event. This time last year I struggled, and once again it was a hard slog on the steep farm tracks. I got back down to the valley floor on the road to Laidley Gap, where last year I found a good rhythm and got back into a positive state of mind.

But this time I had a never-ending stream of 50km riders passing me, all fresh and full of beans. And I was going slower and slower.

It was a real battle between my ‘head’, my ‘heart’ and my legs. The head was saying ‘you CAN do this, you’ve done the training’, just stay calm and pedal steady’. The heart was saying ‘look at everyone passing you … you are sooo slow … how long are we going to be on this road’. And my legs were just dying.

It was actually a relief to get to the steep part of the Laidley Gap climb, because mere mortals can’t ride it. Well, I certainly can’t.

Once I had struggled to the top of Laidley Gap, things actually started to improve. Another super-fun downhill on my super-nice downhilling dual-susser, and then I set my sights towards checkpoint 3 at Thornton.

No surprise to me that Sholto wasn’t there. I had already reasoned that if we missed each other at checkpoint 2, he would have waited for at least half an hour for me to show up. I only hoped he wouldn’t wait too long at CP3 and not make it to the finish.

So fortunately for me the organisers had plenty of water and fruit available. I still had one gel, and I scoffed down a banana and took another one for my pockets.

Back out on the road for the climb to Edwards Gap. I was finding comparisons with last year’s race slightly odious at this point, but I still felt OK at the top of the climb, despite walking a couple of sections.

Then it was hey-ho for the finish. I worked quite well with a couple of other riders on the bitumen section of Mt Mort road, but I could feel the cramps rising in my quads if I pushed too hard for too long.

So I backed off a bit and turned into Old Hidden Vale for the final test. It was a hard hard granny-gear slog up the long hill which greets you on OHV. But once past that, I picked up pace, and was passing lots of riders on the single-track.

I was disappointed to discover that the new route through OHV this year cut out some of the ‘bouncier’ single track in favour of a flatter route on farm tracks. But there was still the last climb on ‘Escalator’, which I cleaned without walking, despite some very bad moments. I tacked onto the back of another rider of similar pace, and with plenty of calls of ‘track’ we were able to make it to the top and pass about 10 riders on the way.

So I rolled into the finish, hurting but relieved. I always had half an eye on the clock, so I wasn’t too surprised when the PA announcer called my time as 7:03 as I came over the line. It seemed about right … I finished last year still full of beans, but this time I had given just about everything!

Luckily Sholto was there and he found me, just as I was chatting to a couple of mates from the Wednesday morning crew. All of them did great rides … one was sub 6 hours on his first Epic, and another had improved by about an hour and a half from his first attempt. Impressive stuff.

So while in terms of performance I have stagnated (or perhaps found my true level), I still look on the 2010 Epic as an achievement to be proud of. That’s enough mtb racing for this year. Probably. Next year will bring new challenges, for both road and mtb.