I consider myself a fairly average mountain biker.
I cannot wheelie a bike, I cannot tell the difference in rolling resistance between various tyres and I panic if I have to bunny hop over anything taller than a brick lying on its flat side. I’m hopeless at sticking to a training schedule and my heart rate monitor never gets used. In short I’m like 99% of the cyclists reading this article, except for one small detail; I’m one of the 780 South Africans who took on the 2010 Absa Cape Epic, and 8 days later I earned my finisher’s shirt in Lourensford. So can you!
In its seven-year history, the Cape Epic, the magical and untamed African MTB race has caused the local MTB scene to explode. Internationally, it is the golden standard against which all other MTB stage races are measured.
However, magical and especially untamed are also fitting descriptions of the lore shrouding the event. Just consider the much publicised stats:
- 722km of brutal terrain,
- 14 635m of climbing,
- 8 days of continuous physical onslaught
…and it is easy to understand the hype. Any rider sporting an Absa Cape Epic sticker on his or her bike commands instant respect on local rides and lesser races which, let’s be honest is all of them!
The bottom line is that the Epic, in all its complexity, is difficult to process mentally. A combination of daunting race stats, the sizable advertising budget available to the organisers and glorified war stories from the Epic veterans, creates a fertile environment for myths of, well, epic proportions. On top of this, the entire mountain biking industry is poised to profit from our fears and uncertainties.
Myths are preached as gospel:
- A successful Epic campaign will not cost less than 100k
- only a certain bike below a certain weight fitted with certain tyres driven by a certain gear ratio with colour coordinated grips and matching boutique hubs will get to you the finish line… provided your undercarriage is protected by bibs hand-sewn by buxom Swiss maidens high in the Alps!
These and countless other myths cover every single aspect of the race experience. Often the advice from different quarters is contradictory, and compliance nearly always requires large sums of money.
This was the context in which my love/hate relationship with the event started. Every year I soaked up every bit of the experience from news articles, TV coverage and the stories of previous participants. At the height of the excitement surrounding last year’s race my girlfriend confronted me with the question: Would you ever do it? I said “no” and supplied the standard excuses of not having enough money and the insane amount of time in the saddle the training requires.
I also admitted that I did not think I had the mental toughness to make it through the training and then the event itself. Shortly after this encounter I was offered an entry and since my entire year’s bursary had just been paid out I decided to take the leap. I committed and went on to conquer not only the Epic but also the myths about it.
After many solo and paired hours in the saddle I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on the myths and the masses of information that address the question: How do you conquer the Epic?
Since the cycling world is obsessed with numbers and nice round percentages (25% more rigid, 10% better braking, 5% less drag…) I’ve even done the numbers. So there is no reason for anyone to miss the point. The Epic is 100% mental. Every other aspect is a slave to this absolute.
Getting up at 05h00 to go for a 7-hour training ride by yourself is mentally challenging. Taking a turn away from your route home to add that last 50m of climbing is mentally difficult. Making continuous social sacrifices to accommodate your training schedule is a mental hurdle. Being honest and admitting that a new R10k wheelset will make negligible difference over your current wheels is mental.
I’m one of the 780 South Africans who took on the 2010 Absa Cape Epic, and 8 days later I earned my finisher’s shirt in Lourensford. So can you!
Mental resilience, is built on confidence, which is in turn a function of fact and faith. You have to do your research about training, nutrition and the technical aspects of your bike. Then you have to take ownership of these facts so that they work for you and from there you must have faith that what works for you will take you through the Epic. If you doubt in your training, your nutrition or your equipment it erodes your mental resilience and it will lead to a situation where at the end of a long stage you will think you’re just about home, only to find that Dr Evil has left one last little tester for you. Then instead of eyeing that last hill knowing that come hell, rain or snow you’ll get up there, you lose it mentally and that is a deep mine shaft to get out of!
Doubt in the months but especially weeks before the race are the most costly, since the knee-jerk reaction seems to be to spend more to buy performance.This has created the biggest myth of all about the Cape Epic: that it is astronomically expensive. This myth has gathered so much momentum that it has become my personal crusade to prove that aside from the entry fee, it can be done on a shoestring budget. The fact that I’ve seen a guy completing the Epic on a rigid pink Nishiki (a.k.a. Makro special) has kept me grounded in the face of many alluring bike shop sales pitches.
Allow me to share some conclusions I’ve reached. They could potentially save you loads of hard-earned cash.
Your bike will be the single biggest investment so let’s start there. Interestingly, bikes that are nowconsidered dated were used by the professionals to win the first couple of races. Any bike, and therefore any components on a bike, that can handle the training will handle the race.
Many people get a second training bike (which is often well capable of completing the Epic) to spare their “race” bike. Why not just run cheaper, consumable parts on your normal frame during training and swop them out before the race? The same applies to people who specifically buy a road bike for base training.
To me the point of training is to spend the maximum time on your race bike so that your body can get used to it. Join the roadies on your MTB with knobblies, trust me it makes you strong. Especially mentally.
By far the most important thing about your bike is knowing how to look after it and to how to keep it running. Understanding wear on your consumables (chains, gears, chainrings, cables etc) has a direct impact on how much you’ll spend on bike maintenance during training. Understanding the basics of your bike is also fundamental to completing the race. Something could break and you’ll have to fix it on the fly.
Know how to break a chain, how to fit a gator, how to turn your bike into a single-speed, and to plug a tubeless tyre. Know what spares you really need to carry. It is scary how easily your race can be threatened by a mechanical and it can happen to anyone… Just look at the pro’s! The best investment in this regard is to attend a comprehensive DIY bike maintenance course. I personally learned a great deal from Johan Bomman at Yellow Saddle Cycling. Lastly, to attempt the Epic with tubes is a fool’s errand, go tubeless.
The world of sports nutrition provides an opportunity to part with heaps of money. Lately they will even tell you the dodgier the taste the better it is for you… because of the protein that tastes like dog food, apparently.
Although this approach is not for everyone, all my sports supplements for my training and the Epic itself cost less than R250, simply because I mixed my own from maltodextrin, fructose and salt. I followed the recipe for Asker Jeukendrip’s home-made go faster drink, and some who will poo-poo this approach definitely know who he is (if not, Google has the answer).
Focus on whole foods instead of highly refined and processed goods. I found that gels do not work for me but things like bran muffins, oat biscuits and potatoes worked very well during training. During the race it is much less about the right stuff, and all about enough stuff. Take a page from the triathlon book and develop a basic feeding strategy for every 30 to 60 minute interval and stick to it, whether you eat fancy R30 energy bars or sandwiches. Remember, it is not your legs that power your bike, It is your stomach.
Basically the only thing that happened since my girtfriend asked me about doing the Epic is that I decided yes, I can in fact do it. I found a suitable partner, I did some research, and I spent many hard hours pushing the pedals, followed by the most exhilarating emotional roller coaster ride over 8 days. The pain is mainly forgotten and with the stitches removed, the scar on my knee will fade, but the glory will last forever. And I did not have to rob a bank in the process!
Text by Retief Joubert of Team Renewable and Sustainable Energy a.k.a the Vuvuzelas. Photos: Karin Schermbrucker, Sven Martin, Ron Gaunt, Gary Perkin, Greg Beadle, Nick Muzik, Sportzpics. This article features courtesy of the June 2010 edition of Ride magazine.
