Catfish you say? Yup, but I ride bikes not fish. What’s catfish got to do with my training to gravel race? Everything! A cycling uphill battle is brewing and catfish are the answer.

I heard this story years ago in a documentary, but don’t ask me which one. The gist of the story was tied to the cod fish market. Ships would sail from Alaska to China, transporting cod across the ocean by vessel. But by the time they would arrive, the cod’s flesh would be mush and tasteless. So a crafty fisherman came up with the idea to put the cod is large vats and add in a few catfish for the ride. Apparently cod and catfish don’t like each other, so forcing them to hang out kept the cod on their ‘toes’ (or fins) for the entire trip. Sounds super stressful to me but acted like exercise of some sort so the cod arrived in tip-top shape and seemingly tasty too.

Is this story true? I don’t know but it resonates with me. Just like the catfish to the cod, we all have people or in my case, things, that are our motivators – our catfish. Something that keeps you on your toes. Guessing, thinking… staying fresh. Having that someone or something nipping at your fin will keep away the boredom and stoke the fire. For my biking, there’s always a trail each season that becomes my motivator for progression… my catfish.

My Cycling Carrot

I’ve consistently trained in the gym for overall fitness for years. With my main motivation being I want to be able to do what I want when I want outside. We travel a lot as Local Freshies® and don’t always know what outdoor adventure we’ll be asked to take on. So having a certain level of durability and endurance is critical to take on any challenge that comes our way. This season though, I set my sighs on a specific goal – gravel racing.

Biking has always been a thing for me. I pedaled as a kid and then started mountain biking when we moved to Lake Tahoe. But my newest curiosity has zeroed in on gravel racing. Why? That’s a different (long) story. In a nutshell, this is about the endurance, grit, personal challenge, and community that all wraps up together to make this sport what it is. I want to be part of it and need my catfish to get there.

Strengths & Weaknesses

As a mid-life athlete, I’m better the longer I’m out there. Initial speed isn’t my thing, but give me an hour to warm up, and I’ll just keep going. Cycling uphill isn’t only a performance battle, but it’s also a mental one. I don’t have as much control on my heart rate as I would like, especially in high intensity situations. Resting to max HR can happen in 10 seconds flat! But that’s not the kind of speed I want. So while I can go the distance, when hot & heavy short bursts come up, my heart rate and breathing is a weak point in my fitness.

I don’t look at this as a bad thing. If you don’t have a weakness to improve on, you’re either not pushing to new limits or you’re lying to yourself. There’s only two ways about it. I know what I’m good at, and I make sure to praise myself for it. But I also know where I need to focus my efforts and that’s producing at high output levels for longer periods of time without hitting the wall. Gravel races have ups and downs for 100+ miles, so I need to be able to ebb and flow just like the course at a high level of intensity.

Am I Improving

One of the challenges to training is knowing if you are actually improving. And this is my motivation behind having a catfish to gauge my cycling against. I need a specific marker that I know is a challenge for me and that I’ve failed to complete in the past. An easy, surefire way to know if I’m getting better or not. My cycling uphill battle is the perfect place to focus my catfish efforts and release the buggers!

For the last 5+ seasons, there’s been one local trail that always aggravates me. Named the Columbine Trail Connector, many locals know it but looking from the outside on Trailforks, you’d never think twice. And that’s where real life takes over the sometimes false impression of online descriptions. This trail is less than a mile long and about 300 vertical feet. That sadly sounds like nothing to even mention. But it is… it’s a lot to mention. For some reason, the pitch, dirt, and rocks & ruts along with a few curves just makes this trail punishing. We never call it by its actual name. I just refer to it as the ‘Death Climb’ because I’ve always felt like death in the process.

And while I’ve always hated this trail, it is the perfect catfish to gauge my uphill cycling progress. The trail is the catfish and the goal is simple. Is all the work I’m doing at the gym and in the saddle enough to get me up this trail at the very beginning of the season with no stops and no near death experiences.

Earlier Start

All previous mountain biking seasons, I don’t get on my bike till the summer. That’s ok if I never want to improve or be competitive. Neither of which gels with wanting to gravel race. The answer this year was to start earlier, when there’s still snow outside. I’ve mentally not blended seasons and sports well in the past so it was a big shift to think about pedaling when we were still snowboarding and shoveling snow.

I kicked off biking in April, earlier than ever before. I couldn’t ride our trails as they were still buried in snow, but I could start inside to get the legs moving. Spin class was first up while the snow slowly melted away. Then a weekly outdoor group ride got added followed by more outside pedal time. By the start of May, I was strength training twice a week and pedaling six days a week, mixing indoor and trails together. As soon as the outdoors opened up for riding, the uphill cycling catfish popped into my head. Could I do it? Has anything I’ve done the last month in strength training and cycling made any difference in my uphill short burst performance? There was an easy way to find out.

It’s Not A Failure

Every season I end up on the Columbine Trail Connector. It’s a fast way to get to the fun stuff. If the first attempt was anywhere before August, I’d stop twice or once if I was lucky on the way up to catch my breath or shake out my legs. My ego hated it, especially when I’m with others that zipped up with no trouble. I never looked at it as a failure, just as a fact that it was early season and I’d get there by the end. But my new found racing desire doesn’t flow well with a ‘I’ll get there eventually’ attitude. Is that like ‘Oh, I don’t have to worry about the race, I’ll eventually get to the finish line?’ Um, no.

My inability to crush this trail every time I ride it at any time of the year became my focal point for improvement. It was a guaranteed not-happening every other season, and the perfect catfish to defeat as I get better in the high intensity realm on my bike. The time to go for it was now or never. It was mid-May and the only trail I could think about.

Conditions Aren’t Ideal

May 14, 2024. I knew the night before that I was going to attempt Columbine today. With knowing that, you’d think I would get everything ready so I could hit the trail early, before the heat rolled in. Nope, not what happened. Morning came and I wasn’t prepared. Bike tires and chain weren’t done. Backpack wasn’t packed. Camera equipment was strewn everywhere. By the time I hit the front door, it was almost 1:30 pm. I did a good job of getting out early to beat the heat… not at all.

It was already in my head that I was late and didn’t like afternoon rides. I focused on that so much while leaving my house that I ended up taking the wrong trail at the very beginning and wasting another 20 minutes getting back on track before heading over to Columbine. I’ve ridden these trails for the last eight years and I managed to get lost in the first 10 minutes. My mindstate was off kilter as I kept thinking about Columbine and what if I didn’t make it. The thought of cycling uphill nonstop on my death climb became all consuming.

First Time For Everything

I hit the Columbine trailhead right around 2:00 pm and stopped to chat with my camera. So many stupid excuses of why today wasn’t the day I should be trying this. I at least didn’t say them out loud as I’m superstitious about that but I sure thought about them. My next thoughts were how would I explain to my coach why I didn’t just ride up this silly little trail today when I said I would. None of my reasons would make any sense and I’d never live it down. It was now or never.

I worked my butt off the last month. If I can’t make it up this hill then what am I doing? This trail is nothing compared to the big boys around Tahoe. Columbine is like the mosquito bite that keeps itching even though you barely see it. The time came to just get it over with. I switched the screen on my Garmin watch to not show me my heart rate. If I looked at it and it was red-line high, I would think I couldn’t push anymore and needed to break. I had to control my breathing and pulse without more technological complications.

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Side Note: Though I may have switched the screen on my watch for the climb, my Garmin is one of my best tools for training. Other than to wash it or charge it, I never take it off. It tracks my life, awake and sleeping, to help keep me on track for my goals. They aren’t cheap, but for me it’s worth it for the insights it gives me on my progress.

Rinse, Lube, Repeat

In the past, I’d look up the trail at the nightmares to come. Pretty unproductive and a clear sign of imminent failure. This time I focused on the dirt in front of me. Each pedal stroke. My breath. Taking the path of least resistance and using my gears to full advantage on the steep bits. The biggest uphill section was here and made a hard swoop to the right. I knew I had to speed up and get in the right gear to plow up this hill and not lose traction by unweighting my rear tire. If you don’t commit everything to this section, you’re done.

I executed everything I told myself in my head. And before I knew it, I crested this cycling uphill nightmare only to think I had just finished the first part and needed to recover for the second. But there wasn’t a second. I thought I was half way done but I was all the way done. I had done it! If I wasn’t gasping for air or in disbelief, I might have cried. I made it! I had never made it up this trail so early in the season. My training was working. I was progressing. My hard work was showing itself in real performance. And as quickly as I rejoiced, I now knew that never again could I not make it up this stupid hill. I can never go back to the days of needing a break. A new precedent was set and my catfish released back into open waters.

Who’s My Next Catfish

For eight years, this ‘Death Climb’ was my catfish. And within 10 minutes, I had wiped that all away. It’s important to test your progress as you plod along your journey. Giving yourself little wins to show you are making a difference is the key to keep moving forward. And each time I find a catfish and win, it’s time to find the next one. Now that the Columbine Trail Connector is done and gone, who’s up next?

If you’re more of a visual, book-worm type person, check out my top 7 outdoor motivational books that I keep coming back to over and over again. One of these may be just what your night table’s been waiting for.