Breaking Hoodoo
Setting a Course Record in My First Ultracycling Race
Last Saturday, I won and set the course record at the Hoodoo 300—a 300-mile ultracycling race in southern Utah.
If you want to learn about what inspired me to sign up, how I trained for the event, and the lessons I learned along the way, check out my last post:
Today’s write-up is more of a race report. I hope you enjoy.
The 300 and 500 solo racers departed from the Best Western Abbey Inn in St. George at 7 AM sharp on Saturday, August 23.
Deb, race director and CEO (“Chief Encouraging/Enthusiasm Officer”) of Planet Ultra, led the group on the bike path at 12 mph, allowing us to exchange pleasantries and shake the nervous energy for 5.5 miles. Once we hit the on-ramp to the Southern Parkway, we were allowed to take off. I hit the lap button on my bike computer. The race was on.
The group set a strong pace out of the gate and within minutes, my heart rate was 140-150, 10-20 bpm higher than where I typically sit on long training rides. While this wasn’t a training ride, and was indeed a race, I had no idea how to pace myself for 300 miles, which I expected to take me between 17-18 hours based on the 2024 winner’s course record time of 17:30.
As we settled in on the highway, multiple riders asked me, “Are you doing the 300 or the 500?” They wanted to sniff out the competition. I guess I did too, but I was focused on my own effort.
I took the lead around mile 30 after climbing out of Sand Hollow, a place I have fond memories of thanks to the 2022 Ironman 70.3 World Championship. Despite a dropped chain at mile 80 near the Coral Pink Sand Dunes, I held it for over 100 miles.
In addition to giving me a bottle every 30 minutes,
put ice in bandanas and wrapped them around my neck to cool me off in the heat of the day. The high in St. George was expected to be 106°on race day. Thankfully we were headed to higher elevations.Mike Olsen, a 50+ rider from Vegas, passed me at mile 145 at the beginning of the 30-mile climb out of Panguitch.
“Looking strong, Adam! If only we could work together…”
“You too, Mike.”
Not only did I not have the energy for conversation, I was bitter that he was now leading the race. As we climbed up to 10,000’, I layered up as the skies opened up. Rain pouring down on us, thunder above, and lightning ahead.
“Second place is good enough. This is your first ultra race.”
“I wonder if Mike will drop because of the rain.”
I started negotiating with myself. I got down on myself. Heart rate still high, what felt automatic started to feel like a grind, but Candice reminded me to play the long game as we were only halfway.
To provide leapfrog support, she’d drive a few miles ahead, park on the side of the road, and stand outside her car holding sports drink, gels, and maple syrup for me to swiftly scoop as I continued riding. I threw my empty bottles and trash on the ground for her to pick up.
Seeing her do this, again and again, for hundreds of miles, made me feel loved, supported, and grateful. In turn, it made me care for her more, as I realize not everyone wants to spend their Saturday chasing their boyfriend while he rides his bike through the desert.
The roads dried as I began the fast, technical descent from North View on my roadie. In Summit near mile 198, I switched to my TT bike for the final time. After seeing a little more than 100 miles left, the bike leg of an Ironman, I was given a surge of energy, knowing I could hammer it home in less than five hours.
I passed Mike around 240, threw him the peace sign as I zipped by in aero, and pushed on the last climb out of Enterprise, knowing if he’d catch me, it’d be there. I put on my reflective vest and ankle bands and powered up Candice’s Kogalla running waist light, now-affixed to my base bar thanks to some electrical tape, gauze, and cable ties.
Riding at night was a first for me, but I enjoyed the purity and simplicity of it. Just the road ahead. I only had about an hour in darkness and Candice could thankfully follow me in her car for most of it.
When I reached the top of Snow Canyon, Candice called the race director to alert her that I only had 20 miles to go. It was fun to descend Snow Canyon for a change (the Ironman course climbs through the stunning state park) and it felt like a victory lap; however, I quickly snapped out of that thinking and told myself to keep putting the pressure on as Mike could be just minutes behind and sneak up on me.
When I rolled back into the Best Western, 14 hours and 44 minutes after I departed from the same spot, I caught Candice and the race organizers by surprise. They weren’t expecting me for a few more minutes and didn’t have their cameras or the finish line tape ready, but I didn’t care.
I had just ridden 300 miles and was smiling from ear to ear. I felt energetic and strong, maybe thanks to the caffeinated gels I slurped down in the afternoon. (I intentionally avoided caffeine for ten days before of the race.) I waited for Mike, who came in 20 minutes later and also blew the previous course record out of the water. I congratulated him and thanked him for a great battle.
With the exception of one bathroom stop (despite it being a greatly-timed one-wiper), the day went according to plan and exceeded my expectations. I aimed for 120 g carbs/hour and 1,500 mg sodium/hour. I did not hit those numbers perfectly, but I always had enough fuel on deck to keep me going.
This was the first race I’ve done where my crew could be involved and have a profound effect on my outcome. So much of success in ultra-endurance comes down to crewing, planning and logistics—sadly, not my strong suits. However, thankfully I had Candice, the best in the business, by my side. I couldn’t have done it without her.
If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.
P.S. The week before the race, I saw Mike McKnight’s name on the roster. “Isn’t that the guy that does your races?”, I asked Candice, worried, knowing he’s a strong endurance athlete. While McKnight did race and finish third in about 18 hours—very impressive for a guy new to cycling—I needed to pay attention to the other Mike. Note to self—don’t ignore the competitors in the 50+ division. You never know who’s going to show up on race day.
Awesome job and nice write-up. But TMI on the one-wiper :)
Really enjoyed reading this, It's inspiring for other riders. And you should really share more about your experience, it was a great read.