I figure most of you are interested in the checkpoint controversy and why I showed up on the results as "DQ", so I included a handy little table of contents below.
A conversation I had a lot this past weekend went something like this:
"Is the Marji really that hard?"
"Kinda. But most 100-milers are."
And that's it. The Marji is a hard event, but if you push yourself to the limits, any off-road 100-miler is hard. I've raced "harder" 1-hour events than the Marji, but recovery is a lot easier following those vs. a 12-hour suffer fest. The Marji is hard because it's right at the limits of approachability for 90% of bike racers. Most people at the Marji aren't doing the Tour Divide, AZT, or Colorado Trail Race, which I'd argue are all a lot harder than the Marji, but also take a ton more preparation and a very different mindset. The Marji is great because it's got technical, fun, and challenging singletrack that can be enjoyed by most competent bike racers at any speed, but also has longer flat-out sections that the pure racers will relish. It showcases all of the best and most difficult trails in the Midwest, along with being "short" enough to be raced at full gas for the entire duration. So yes, the Marji is hard, and you need much better bike handling skills and endurance than the average rider to finish within the daylight, but the spectacle surrounding it puts it out of proportion.
I went in with the goal of getting a belt buckle, finishing 107-miles of hard, fast racing in under 12 hours.
The Traveling
Good friend Justin Daniels (@j_daniels16) and I headed out at 2am on a Thursday morning, approximately 56 hours before the race started. We landed in Chicago around 12pm, lugged our duffels and bike bags around Chicago and Milwaukee catching various modes of public transit, and made it to my grandparent's house to snag the coveted RV conversion van, affectionately named Burt. Burt has made it through thousands of miles worth of adventures near and far, and this one was no different. We shoved the bike bags in the van, spent some time hanging with the grandparents, stopped at my parents for some overnight recovery, and rolled out for Ishpeming early in the morning.
Side note. I'm not a very good traveler, which is another reason why I'm not a professional bike racer. During travel, I suck at taking in fluids or calories. I don't like using public restrooms in general, and I especially don't like using them at the airport or other transit stations. I've been a remote worker since 2020, so I've had no reason to hold my bladder for more than a few minutes at a time. It's honestly one of the best parts of working remotely. So, the lesson learned during this Marji experience? Travel early in the week, hydrate even when inconvenient, and eat often.
We landed in Ishpeming around 4pm Friday afternoon, 15 hours before the race started, spent some time at the local bike shop getting some last-minute supplies, and pre-rode the last 15-ish miles of the course. During pre-ride, my front brake failed at the lever, spewing Magura mineral oil everywhere. My own fault, really, for trusting Magura brakes to actually work. Luckily, Steven at West End Ski & Trail was able to salvage my weekend with a fairly economical SRAM G2 lever & caliper, which instantly felt 100x better than the aforementioned Maguras. I'm glad we pre-rode because the mental boost alone of knowing how close we were to the end was worth it on race day.
The Prep
After two long days of traveling, my body really needed some nourishment. But pre-race nerves coupled with the excitement of knowing what was to come the following morning meant I all but forgot to take care of my body. I didn't eat much, just a Jimmy John's sandwich that evening, and drank even less. Little did I know how dehydrated I was, because, in my mind, I was still deep in travel mode. Justin and I slept behind a Walmart that night, which was surprisingly quiet and dark, and woke up around 6am feeling refreshed and ready to ride. I stopped in Walmart for some quick breakfast and GI relief, making sure to snag a large, calorie-heavy and electrolyte-laden beverage. We rolled out, parked at the Forestville Trailhead around 6:45am, and got ourselves and our nutrition ready for a 7:30am start.
The Start
This is where the Marji shines. For all the over-the-top spectacle that a big chunk of the community spews out, the start and first half-hour of the race are worth the hype. Standing in line with tired, bushy-eyed friends under a huge 'KENDA' race banner and surrounded by pit fires, people in costumes, and excited spectators makes the race worth it. The race is preluded by some final words of wisdom from Todd, the race director (dictator?), telling you not to give up, and remember to text him if you do, and a final send-off delivered with a live rendition of Jimi Hendrix's National Anthem. Shortly after the anthem concludes, racers are given a moment to put their helmets on and sent off with a double-barrel shotgun start.
I haven't toed the starting line of a Marji since 2019, and it's only gotten faster since, lots faster. I'm a better runner now than I was then, and I couldn't keep pace with the top 10 guys. The first .5-mile run was more like a 4-minute mile split sprint in bike shoes, and it took a big effort to get with the second group of riders after we got to our bikes. In years past, I've enjoyed being with the first group for a couple of hours, but this year I PR'd nearly every Strava segment within the first 3 hours and still got gapped from the lead by about 15 minutes by mile 30. It speaks volumes to the level of athlete and pace the leaders set these days and is highly motivating for future years.
The Cramps
Recall that I bought but did not drink a 32oz calorie and electrolyte-heavy beverage earlier that morning. Around mile 20, I started to feel the first onset of cramps, something I haven't experienced this year, and at mile 35, they were increasingly painful and apparent. Even though this Marji was already faster than years prior, I wasn't setting any power number records and certainly not taxing my body any more than any other hard 3-hour ride I've done countless times this year. I was drinking water more often than I needed to while eating every ~30 minutes. But none of that matters when you toe the start line severely dehydrated and in need of hundreds of calories worth of sugars and sodium.
Cramping during this event was more frustrating than anything, knowing I had screwed up big-time the days prior and couldn't do anything about it. I told myself I was going to finish the race regardless and battled through the worst cramps of my life for the next 4 hours. I stopped at multiple trail fairies, desperate for pickle juice, Coke, or Gatorade, and drinking as much as quickly as possible. Often, I could shift into an easy gear and pedal through the worst of the cramps, but just as often, the cramp would seize up my legs, and I would have no choice but to sit down and drink water as my legs convulsed in front of me. Within miles 35-68, I had more than a few pity parties in the woods, losing lots of time and dropping myself outside buckle contention. The cramping wasn't isolated to my legs, and my hands, forearms, and triceps would fall victim to cramp spasms throughout this leg of the race.
In years past, I would have told myself to get to the mile 68 checkpoint and give up. I would have relished in the self-defeatism and said, "next time", but honestly, I've done harder shit this year, I knew my body could take it and still finish in the daylight. I made it to mile 68 around 2pm, an hour off buckle pace, and set a 15-minute timer to throw my legs vertically against a tree while forcing down calories.
The Second Wind
The 15-minute rest combined with a liter worth of pickle juice and electrolytes was exactly what my body needed, and thankfully, I didn't experience any cramps for the rest of the day. The next 24 miles were near blissful on technical and extremely fun singletrack throughout the RAMBA system. RAMBA is about the closest terrain you'll find to what's in the PNW, with proper skidders, rock faces, and big roots to tackle throughout. My legs felt great during the repeated hard climbs, where 15-30 second max efforts were needed to get through without dabbing or walking. I made up a good chunk of time on this segment and almost felt hope I could still buckle. I rolled into the mile 93 checkpoint around 5:15pm, spent two minutes stuffing some food and drink down my gullet, and set off for the second, what I thought was 14-mile loop in the RAMBA system. I had 2:10 to ride 14 miles and was almost confident I could finally achieve a buckle.
I didn't feel as good during the second loop, but still good enough to pass a handful of 100-milers that I recognized as having passed me back around mile 45, during the worst of my cramps. The second loop was brutally hard, with double as many hike-a-bike sections in the last 8-miles as in the previous 101-miles. I learned here that my Wahoo was off on miles, or the event organizers were, as I passed mile 107 (the advertised mileage) at exactly 7:30pm. With 3.5 miles to go, I kept pushing, knowing the finish was close and there was no point going easy with such a small amount of riding to go. I enjoyed it the best I could, finishing in the daylight a little before 8pm and securing a time of 12:26, spending 11:45 of that pedaling, and 40 minutes not moving. What this tells me is that the speed and fitness were there, I just needed to dial in my pre-and-during nutrition program. No biggie. I'm belt-buckle chasing, and I love it.
Checkpoint Controversy
I won't spend a ton of time on this one, but I got "disqualified" at this Marji. It doesn't bother me because I was off buckle pace, but I'll still tell my little side of the story.
Every year, Todd (race director) puts in checkpoints to ensure the racers ride the entire course. Most races of this style use hole punches or book pages, and it's a very accepted way of doing things in the competitive ultra-distance world. The difference with Marji is that, to be frank, Todd throws in an extra level of bullshit with these checkpoints every year. The only consistent with the checkpoints over the last ~10 years is that they're poker chips, some years the checkpoints are fake (empty), out of order (#2, 1, 4, 3), not real (ie., one year a bucket was full of pinecones), or stacked next to each other. That kind of stuff doesn't rub me the wrong way, since the checkpoints have always been consistent types of tokens, easy to find, and have plenty of warning beforehand.
This year, without warning (ie., an email, Facebook post, or announcement at the start line), Todd decided to make the checkpoints pieces of candy. I got to the first checkpoint around mile 50 in ~15th place, hyper-focused on taking a poker chip and moving on. I looked in the bucket, saw Fireball jawbreakers, and dug around for a poker chip. When I couldn't find a chip, I assumed the jawbreakers were another "Todd" checkpoint trick and moved on. Why didn't I grab one? I didn't want to eat any candy, nor did I want to carry it around for no reason.
So yeah, that's it. I didn't grab the first piece of candy because I thought it was a joke. I carry a lot of blame, I didn't read the sign saying "take 1" (to be fair, it's a 12-hour race, and I'm not reading anything unless I can eat it too). But I think Todd shares some blame as he's known for playing tricks with the checkpoints, and failed to notify anyone that the checkpoints had changed from poker chips. However, at the end of the day, of 1000 finishers between the 4 events (100 MTB, 100 Run, 50 MTB, and 50 Run), only 25 of us got DQ'd because of the candy thing. The riders who finished 3rd and 4th and got DQ'd are in a much worse spot than me simply because they had more on the line with the overall NUE series and buckle qualifications. I don't care much because I was buckle-chasing and didn't make the cut, but I do hope that their results are counted in the NUE series, and maybe that Todd learns a little from this controversy for future years.
At the end of the day, Todd and the 906 crew put on a fantastic event, one of the best in the country, but maybe this year's checkpoint BS went a little too far. I'm not sure about past years' overall DQ rates, but after seeing the run DQ rates from the last 4 years, I presume they're at least 50% higher this year.
Bike Performance
Now to something more fun and lighthearted, a bike performance check!
Wow, oh wow, am I convinced on metal bikes. This year for the Marji, I chose to race my 2019 Cotic Flare Max, a ~27lb steel full-suspension "down-country" bike handmade in the UK. I don't regret it for a second.
Aside from the front brake fiasco on Friday evening, I couldn't be happier with the bike's performance. Nothing broke, nothing felt "bad", and the performance was predictable and unchanged throughout the 110-mile event. I never felt that the extra few pounds were a detriment to my performance, and aside from needing to run more air pressure in the shock, I wouldn't make any major changes for the next one. I love the aesthetic of a metal bike, and knowing I can push just as hard (if not harder, according to Strava) on the Flare Max is a huge mental boost to continuing to race and ride one.
Final Thoughts
In interview form, because why not?
I: Casey, will you do this race again?
C: Yes.
I: What would you do differently?
C: Fly to the area earlier in the week. Drink more fluids the days prior. Recruit friends/family to help with hand-ups. Ask around for checkpoint beta.
I: When will you do the next edition?
C: Whenever my fitness level helps me feel ready.
I: Are you disappointed that you missed a buckle by 25-minutes?
C: Kinda. But I learned so much and gained a ton of confidence for the next one.
I: Are you disappointed that you got DQ'd?
C: No. Wasn't chasing a finish, just a buckle.
I: Best part?
C: Seeing Justin kick some serious ass on some of the hardest trails in the Midwest. Blown away by his resolve and fitness. Also, catching up with some old Midwest friends.
I: Future Events?
C: I've got some "underground" events on the radar coming up. Aside from that, I'll continue to race Cyclocross with Jack's Homegrown Racing and prep for the Westside Series MTB races coming up this winter.
Oh boy what a rush, to feel sorta-pro with some easy and curated interview questions. Hire me, outdoor journalist media pros.
Phenomenal work out there Casey you did an amazing job - you'll get that belt buckle next go!!!
Fun read my man. Glad to hear it went wellish. Sounds like you got the right lessons from this one. Nice work!