Unbound Gravel 2022 Recap Part 2

This post covers my Unbound Gravel 2022 ride experience and thoughts on completing it! This blog does contain affiliate links - when you make a purchase using my link, I receive a very small commission, allowing me to continue to do this work. Thank you for your support.

104 miles. That is a really long way. Heck, I don’t even like to drive that far, let alone think about riding it. So I’m not lying when I say I thought about changing my registration multiple times from the 100 mile to the 50 mile distance.

I really didn’t think I could do it.

Seriously, the 50 mile distance in 2021 was probably the hardest ride I’ve ever done. The heat, chunky gravel, heavy bike - it was an incredibly challenging ride and I left saying I’d never do the 100.

So why did I choose Unbound Gravel to be my first century? And why did I add the pressure of a film crew documenting my experience? Who knows…but now that it’s over, holy cow was that fun. It’s all a bit of a blur honestly - those miles ticked by pretty quickly once I was on the course. Here’s how it all went down…

I got to the start line at 6:30 to meet up with the camera crew. They mounted a GoPro on my handlebars, launched a drone into the air to document the start, and followed me to the start line. I said hi to some of my friends at the pointy end of the race and found my place near the back of the corral. Following the advice of a few folks, I lined up with the 10 hour pace group, knowing my time would likely be a little bit slower than that, but that I needed to push myself a bit, and starting with faster folks might help.

Fresh and clean at the start line

The start was great - a neutral, slightly downhill paved start meant I was rolling comfortably at 17-18 mph. I remember looking down at my bike computer at mile .5 and jokingly calling out “Hey! Only 99 1/2 miles left to go!!” It did not go over well - these folks were serious and did not find it funny. I thought it was hilarious.

Around mile 3, the pavement ended and the gravel adventure began. The first few miles of any gravel event for me is all about finding my groove and getting comfortable. I settled into an 11mph pace and pretty quickly found myself all alone on the course.

I remember looking around and thinking “What the heck? I’m going at a decent speed… am I really that slow?”

Turns out, yes, I really am that slow.

The miles ticked by pretty quickly throughout the morning, with sprinkles of rain keeping me cool and feeling fresh. Was this really going to be this easy?

At mile 17 my right cleat started feeling funny. It was super loose - I could literally rotate my entire shoe around the cleat. Not good. (Prior to Unbound, I ordered a new pair of the Shimano RX8 Gravel shoes from CompetitiveCyclist.com (somehow I lost one in the move.) While I would never recommend new shoes for a long ride, these RX8 fit nearly perfectly and I wasn’t worried about breaking them in.)

Getting super annoyed with my cleat situation, I decided to pull over and see what was up. I quickly realized that I had lost a bolt on my cleats and the remaining bolt was hardly holding the cleat onto the shoe, and definitely not keeping my foot on the pedal!

My first attempt at fixing it was to just re-tighten the one remaining bolt. This worked for about a mile. Feeling frustrated but hopefully, I stopped again decided to MacGyver a solution. I grabbed a spare bolt from my fork, screwed it into my cleat and hopped back on the bike.

Normally, I would take the time to fix an issue like this fully, but I was running up agains the clock. To make the cutoff time, I had to make it to mile 64 by 1:30pm, which meant averaging 10 mph. Every time I stopped I was eating precious minutes.

Mounting my bike again with my newly improvised shoe situation, I immediately realized that my solution would not work at all. Not only had I not fixed the issue, but I ‘d made it worse. Now, my foot was literally resting on top of my pedals with no ability to clip in.

I settled back into a rhythm, determined to make up some time. The first half of the course was a pretty gradual climb into the Flint Hills. One thing I love about Kansas is that none of the climbs are sustained. It’s not like Washington where you start climbing and twenty minutes later you’re still climbing the same damn hill.

Kansas Hills

Not out here. All of the climbs were short, sometimes punchy climbs, but overall very very doable. There were two or three very short sections of 14 to 15% incline that I walked up, but I’m going to call that strategy. With a 1x11 drivetrain, I don’t have the lowest climbing gears, so walking is simply more efficient for me.

With my right foot not attached to the pedals, the ride got a little bit trickier, especially on some water crossings and rough downhills. I hit the high point of the course at mile 43 right as a giant thunderstorm let loose - the temperature dropped, massive wind and rain, thunder and lightning. I legitimately thought it was going to be a reenactment of the scene from Twister where the cow goes flying. It was intense.

The sky just before it opened up.

Flying down the hills into the midway check point, I had my first opportunity of the day to share someone’s wheel. Two pro women caught me (they had hit some ridiculous mechanical issues) and invited me to ride with them on the descent.

We were flying. We hit 29 miles per hour, an absolute god send for me as I was still rushing to beat the 1:30pm time cutoff. As the minutes ticked down to 1:30 the miles went by slower than ever. It was looking increasingly likely that I wouldn’t make the time cutoff.

I vacillated between excitement that I was doing the thing, anxiety that I had worked this hard and still missed the cutoff, and pride that I was doing the dang thing! I used every last bit of juice I had in the tank to pedal my heart out into the check point in Madison, buoyed by the crowds cheering for me.

Hanging with Ellen Noble, one of my cycling heroes during my Shakedown ride on Friday

By some stroke of magic, I rolled across the timing chip at 1:30, literally with no time to spare. As I rolled into my support crew who had clean socks and shoes, food, more water, and a big camera in my face, the men’s leaders on the 200 mile course rolled in right behind me.

After I made the time cut-off, all stress I had melted away. All I had to do now was ride another 40 miles to the finish - but I could take as much time as I wanted. My focus shifted from beating the clock to having fun, and I am so grateful I made this mental switch, because after the mid-way point, things got absolutely ridiculous on course.

You’ve probably seen the photos of riders and their bikes caked in mud. The massive thunderstorm I had ridden through earlier did an excellent job of turning the dirt roads into pure peanut butter mud. I did my best to use my cyclocross skills and ride as much of the mud section as possible, but eventually it became too thick and I had to walk.

The MUD

This one mile section took nearly an hour to get through. I carried my bike. I shuffled along with my bike. At one point, I tried to walk in the grass above the mud, only to slip and literally slide five feet down the muddy embankment. Thankfully, none of these falls caused any injuries - but every time I hit the ground, I got more and more covered in mud. All I could do was laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

At this point, I was so grateful to not actually be racing and just trying to make it to the end. Having to get through this section quickly would have been hell. I watched the women’s leader, Sofia Gomez Villafane fly by me and dang, she is a talented rider.

Everything is fine. Zero problems on this ride. :)

Towards the end of the muddy section there was thankfully a creek crossing perfect to wash our bikes in. I wish I had a photo of this section - it was mayhem. With the thunderstorm, the creek was flowing super fast and if you weren’t careful, you’d get swept downstream.

While I was washing my bike, fellow Pearl Izumi athlete Hannah Shell and my old friend turned Pro Heidi Franz came through, so I was able to help both of them was their bikes. They were in a huge hurry, so it was fun to be able to offer some encouragement and make their day a little smoother. That’s one of the things I love about gravel - we’re all out on the same course and sometimes you get lucky enough to ride next to the pros.

Hey, that’s not supposed to look like that!

With my bike relatively clean (or at least ridable), I settled in for the last 30 miles. Still feeling pretty dang good, my average pace actually increased on the 2nd half of the day to about 12 mph. This part of the day was super fun, as pacelines of fast folks finishing the 200 mile distance were continually passing me. Normally, I would never call getting passed fun, but they were all so supportive. So many cheers of “Good Job” and “YEAH!!! MARLEY!!!!” as they flew past me. I really felt like I belonged and that this was my community.

And then my shoe troubles came back to haunt me.

I swapped socks and shoes at the midway point which felt absolutely amazing - until the muddy section. Not surprisingly, my cleats became super jammed up with mud, making clipping in and out of my pedals incredibly hard. It got so bad I actually couldn’t unclip either shoe, forcing a few slow motion falls when I needed to stop. Eventually, I figured out that I could loosen my shoes, letting me pull my foot out of my shoe when I needed to stop. Ridiculous.

The last 15 miles were a blur. I was riding high on the success of my day so far and still feeling great. I was doing an excellent job continually fueling myself and staying hydrated - besides my shoe woes, everything was going better than expected!

As we got closer to town there were a few groups of spectators on the side of the road, offering water, beer and snacks. I gratefully grabbed a Miller Lite and slow rolled a mile, savoring the crisp coolness of the brew. At mile 100, I let out a huge cheer…and realized I still had 4 more miles to go but at this point, barring something absolutely catastrophic, I was actually going to finish!

So gross.

The last push uphill on the Emporia State University campus nearly killed me, but with throngs of cheering crowds on either side, there was no way I wasn’t going to give it my all. Slowly climbing this hill, I put everything I had into each pedal stroke. I was rewarded at the top with a shot of fireball, yet again putting to use my cyclocross skills with a clean handup. I took the shot, gagging and regretting my decision and was off for the last half mile to the finish.

The finish line chute was like nothing I had experienced before - crowds of people lining the street for 5 blocks before the finish line, cheering and chanting. I pulled my foot out of my shoe again (I’d have to stop soon) and rode the last 300 yards with my foot resting on top of my shoe. At this point, all I wanted to do was finish.

Pure joy at the finish

As I crossed the finish line, a volunteer handed me an ice cold towel from Chamois Butt’r and I collapsed into a puddle of mud, tears, and elation that I had actually done it. I finished Unbound Gravel 100, making it my very first century ride!

I am so grateful to the team in Emporia who puts on this event, to all my sponsors for their support, and everyone who helped me get here. I’m also super grateful to Justin Balog and Freddy Winters who were a super fun film crew to work with and were an excellent support team. I can’t wait to see what they produce - hopefully a gem!

In the end , I finished in 12 hours, 44 minutes. My heart rate averaged 145 bpm, which is Zone 3 for me. Overall, it was a hard ride, but not harder than so many other things I’ve done in my life. I’m so excited to do it again - maybe next time with less mud.

Well, I didn’t win, but I’m pretty dang proud of this.