Honest thoughts / recap after a grueling 30 hours 46 minutes and 27 seconds

👋 Good morning and happy Friday. I’m Scott and feel free to reach me here.

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My XL Recap

No, I wasn’t Rob Britton-fast (he finished in 18 hours), but I did it. I conquered Unbound Gravel XL — how many people can say that!

I keep saying it out loud because it still doesn’t feel real: I rode my bike for nearly 31 straight hours.

That’s not a typo. Thirty-one hours.

In the mud. In the dark. In the chaos of ruts and hike-a-bike sections. And somehow… I, a normal Joe, Scott, according to much of the world, finished a race that 43% who start, fail to finish.

The bad news: I currently have 10 toes that feel like packing peanuts. Completely numb.

The good news: My back and body held up really well. My left knee was killing me (crashed) but I’m five days out, and while everything is sore and I’m ready for bed at 8 p.m. sharp, there are no major concerns.

Just the deep, satisfying ache of doing something hard and unforgettable.

NAILED IT / FAILED IT

First. I wanted to finish within the 36 hour cutoff. NAILED IT.

Second. I wanted the ‘Beat the Sun’ badge and get to the finish line before sunset. I didn’t achieve this and ultimately was a part of The Midnight Club, those that finish between 8:00 p.m. – 12:00 p.m. FAILED IT

The Lead Up

Having arrived to Emporia Thursday afternoon around 1 p.m. and with me at the starting line at 3pm the following day, it felt like just enough time. The weather was nice, the air clean, and energy was buzzing downtown. I was worried I’d feel too rushed but ultimately, the time from arriving to starting was just enough to keep me from doubting myself.

Our Thursday. Me and the Front Pack Dirty Boys did an hour shake out ride, grabbed our packets, got dinner and then hit up the XL riders meeting. Like I said, energy was high and after that riders meeting, I felt ready.

Friday was more of the same but for once in my life, I slept in until 9am. There was no rush to get up so I took advantage. The last few weeks have been insane so I knew my sleep wasn’t the best but was hoping my WHOOP MG would have me in the 80s, but alas – we rolled into the race with a 73% sleep score and my day strain was at 15.4 out of 21.

Making sure all my gear was ready. We hit the expo, got a killer breakfast (shout to Commercial Street Diner) and headed back to the RV where I’d take one last shower, go through the final check list, and mentally prepare.

Mile 0

I gave The Dirty Boys hugs, got some final last words of encouragement and off I went. The starting chute was surrounded with people on both sides.

People eager to cheer us on. People there to send off loved ones.

And of course, people eager to see what circus freaks like the XL cyclists look like.

The vibes were high and I was reeling to go. I ran through so final things, texted my wife how much I loved her, turned to my Coros Dura and started the final course map I’d downloaded earlier. All systems go.

I took a final sip from my 100 ounce USWE bladder to keep the electrolytes going.

NOTHING! *OH CRAP*.

Nothing was coming through the bladder hose and I start sucking as if I’m trying to pull a soccer ball through a hose.

UGHHH. Problem number 1 rears its head. I put so much powder carbs and sodium into my bladder it all sank to the bottom, clogging the whole hose line.

OK. No worries. I’ve got 8 minutes before go time, I find relief in the fact that we’ve not started and I can figure this out. I open the backpack, violently shake the bladder back and forth, back and forth. Start stucking. Start blowing. Start sucking. and BAM – we are good. I was able to break it up enough to get some good pulls and no problem. Crisis averted.

The Start

And we’re off! I’m feeling great but also hilarious. The pros were COOKING. It took maybe 5 miles before I couldn’t see them anymore. Incredibly impressive. But I stuck with my plan, hoping to stay under 200w and just feeling strong throughout. I changed up my computer so every 15 minutes it was beeping and telling me to hydrate and eat. That was clutch. I stayed the course and found a good group to work with. The effort was hard and strong but I felt good.

Mile 4. I see our first crash – my friend Roger who was tackling his 5th XL. He hit something and spilled. I yelled, “you alright” and he said he was good. But that was a wake up. This is Roger Orth, just a complete beast and he’s crashed. But whatever, stay focused, keep going.

Mile 16. Roger catches up to the group I’m in. He’s bloodied but as expected pushing the pace. I ride along or behind him the next 40 miles. I’m no 24 hour finisher, so Roger continues to work his way up (Spoiler. come to find out, that mile 4 spill resulted in a Grade 3 separated shoulder).

Mile 46. The first gas station and I skip it. But I need to pee, bad. Amazingly a train was crossing so the entire group stopped. I pull over and NASCAR my wang out and start peeing. I haven’t finished but the train has. The group is off and I’m left chasing. Burned a match for sure but one I needed to get back into the group.

Mile 66.6. For so long, I considered skipping this gas station and instead pushing it all the way to mile 108. But I decide against it and stop. I’m dying for ice cold water. It’s the only thing in the world I want. I pull up and a rider is taking off. He yells, “water, water. you want this?” HELL YES. I drank the entire 28 ounces in a nanosecond. It was freezing and amazing. I pop off the bike, go inside, get a Coca-Cola, refill my 100 ounce bladder, dump in my Mile 66 ziplock bag full of Raw Endurance and Raw Replenish. One final text to The Dirty Boys.

Mile 99. It’s now dark and things are getting a more sketchy. Athletes are still being aggressive and I’m seeing more and more crashes. More people holding collarbones and arms. More people with mechanical issues. But I’m good. I’m cruising. I hit the 100 mile mark in 6 hours and have been pushing an average of 196W. Basically full IRONMAN pace. My HR was in a good spot. 4hr 22 minutes has been spent in Zone 2 and 1hr 36 minutes have been in Zone 3. But also… 259 miles to go.

Mile 99.9. Its now pitch black and I am descending in a pack. Were going 21 mph+. Just cruising.

I bunny hop something, land and my bike computer mount breaks. I see my computer fly off into a ditch. I slam on the breaks knowing I am completely fucked without my mapping. Yes, I can use my phone (I guess) but I need to find the computer.

I have an idea of where it is but not exactly sure. I pop off my bike, lie it down and start searching with my headlamp.

I’m not panicking but frustrated. I’m losing precious time and draft power!

All of a sudden, a fire truck and ambulance with lights blaring and horns sounding fly by me. I pray they didn’t just run over my Coros Dura computer.

I keep looking.

Finally!!!

Face down in a ditch is my computer. I grab it. Nothing broken, nothing harmed. But the mount is broken. What do I do. What every redblooded human would. ZIP TIES!!!! I grab the zip ties I’d brought and get that thing back on. Will it work longterm? I have no idea but it was the best I could do in the moment.

I finally jump back on my bike and my front tire is now flat. ARGGGGG!!!

That bunny hop was clearly executed terribly. LOL.

I again dismount and start searching for the leak. I open my tool bag, grab my hand pump and start pumping away. I can hear the air coming out but cannot see it where exactly.

I put spit all over the tire, still don’t see any air bubbles.

So I think logically, grab my CO2 and blast that shit. The Orange Seal inside my tubeless tire instantly seals it.

AMAZING. I AM THE SMARTEST MAN IN THE WORLD!!! Even if my tire is now at 50 psi. I’d later send off a message to The Dirty Boys who are tracking me and wondering what the hell was I doing.

BUT…. In that 20 minute ordeal, I basically screwed myself. I lost the pack and a ton of other people have flown by me. Its now 11 p.m. and I’m going into the darkness of the night… alone….

The Darkness

I’ve been trying to think about what the night was like and it is a complete blur. From when I flatted at 11:00 p.m. to 3 a.m. I cannot remember much.

It was cold and I was alone.

I had music blasting into my ears but generally saw nobody. Just those that crashed and those that called it quits and were waiting for a ride back.

I played it safe for sure. I had two handlebar lights and a headlamp on my helmet but I could not get a good grip on depth perception. At times, I was dive bombing down white gravel roads and it all just looked like this…

And the bugs. I was a human car. With my bike and helmet light beaming, I had so many bugs flying into my face. It was comical how many times a huge bug slammed right in the eye or flew right in my mouth.

By 3 am when I was at my most tired, all I wanted was the sun to come up. I was cold and knew if I could just get to 6:30 am, the sun popping up would warm me and bring me new life. By this time I turned off my headphones and just setting in with myself. No real thoughts or contemplating life, just pedaling away, counting the clock (huge mistake).

Mile 164.3. I get to the water station in a town of 500 and am relieved to get off the bike. I see a few other riders, and we joke about the rural dogs that we had to scare off. I jump off the bike, pee in the porto’s, fill my USWE bladder, water bottle and have a clif bar. I bid adieu and keep pedaling.

“Dawn Brings a New Day”

Is what my dad messaged me Saturday AM. And that settled me down. I was finally getting through the darkness of the night and could see things clearly again. I just needed to warm up. I was over being cold.

The 200 Mile Death March

Be careful what you ask for because that cold turned hot real quick. Saturday brought on my 200 mile death march which was zero cloud cover, full sun and rising temps. I was still alone and in a bad place mentally. I knew I could make it to the finish line alone, but I really didn’t want to.

Mile 222. I caught up to a small pack that included Shawn and Bracken from CO, Timo from Canada, and Rachel from Naples, Italy. They were the most important people in my life at that moment. They’re positivity and camaraderie pushed me through. They welcomed me as if I was a lost lion cub searching for a new pride. Shawn gave me a powered donut and some ibuprofen. Rachel took long pulls in the front. Bracken and I talked about Austin and his remote work there. We became instant friends and not a group I’ll ever forget. We got through the final two aid stations and headed home for the last long 80 miles together.

But the group slowed and I was eager to just keep going. So I took off solo. Not because I wanted a faster time or to beat them, I was just heads down and pushing through at a pace I could handle.

Along those last 78 miles, I ended up riding with Josh Reid (YouTube). Josh was documenting his entire XL experience for his YouTube channel. It’s a great video that speaks to so much of what I experienced too. And I’m in the last 8 minutes, so check it out. But Josh was great. Again a complete stranger you both vulnerably gravitate to to finish something extraordinarily difficult.

The whole of Saturday felt like an eternity. We joked that we were in some sick hellscape where there was actually no finish line and that we were just doomed to keep pedaling forever. Or that the world had actually ended and we just didn’t know it. We were the last two idiots on Earth. Pedaling our bikes endlessly.

Mile 339. With 20 miles left, I knew it was over. Josh and I had defeated Unbound XL, we just needed to cross the finish line. But still the finish line felt forever away, teasing us like a carrot being dangled in front of the face of a hungry rabbit. Those final 20 miles would take seemingly forever. We booth powered through the first 10 miles and had 10 left. We could see the spotlights in the sky just teasing us to make our way. We rode and pushed but alas there wasnt much power left. I had left it scattered throughout the Flint Hills of Kansas. The only thing left to do was take it all in.

What I wanted to be 27 hours turned to 30 hours so what was a few more minutes. I finally, after so many hours of shutting off my emotions thought about what I’d just accomplished. The feelings were overwhelming and I wondered if I’d cry as I passed over the finish line.

As we got to the top of the last hill, a volunteer offered me a hot dog. I took it.

I asked Josh. “OK. How do you want to do this? You want to go first, behind me, or together.”

He unselfishly said, “You go, mate. I’ll stick behind you and film you defeating the XL.”

And with that, we rolled through the last 500 yards and had completed an impossible task. I didn’t cry but wished I could have. I was so drained, and tired, I just couldn’t believe I did it. I needed a burrito.

The Unbound XL was no longer so scary, but something I conquered.

Final Tally

• 0 times I thought about quitting

• 359 miles

• 31 hours

• 18,671 ft of elevation gain

• 13,494 calories burned

• 6 gas station stops

• 1 flat tire

• 1 big, ugly cry at 3am (sleep deprivation + emotional song)

• 1 broken computer mount

• 1 broken cleat for the last 150 miles

• 1 minor crash (the dried up side wall ruts were bad)

• 20.7/21 – @whoop 2 day strain score

• 1624w – 5 second power

• 194w – NP the 1st 100 miles (6hrs 26 min)

• 147W – NP the final 259 miles (20:44:24)

• 11.5mph – avg speed

• 34.1mph – top speed

• 127 – avg HR

• 175 – max hr

FUELING

• 0 stomach issues

• 3,420g of carbs (@raw.endurance)

• 57,000mg sodium (@raw replenish)

• 30 @scienceinsport gels

• 7 CLIF bloks sour energy gels

• 1 honey bun

• 3 hostess mini donuts

• 1 gas station breakfast pizza slice

• 2 bags of lays potato chips

• Countless Coca-Colas

• 1 Sprite

• 2 Gatorade’s

• 1 cup of pasta salad

• 1 hotdog

• 1 field poop

• Many many pees

• 5 @chamoisbuttr packs, resulting in 0 shower butt burn

• Countless pickles

What I Learned (and Want to Share)

Unbound Gravel XL was to no surprise, the hardest and most difficult thing I’ve ever done. In the moment it was awful.

Josh and I agreed, at no time was it particularly fun. From the onset to the finish, it was hard. Difficult for so many reasons; from physical pain, to exhaustion, heat, and countless obstacles. But days later, the emotions have tempered, the pain has gone away, and the fluid has subsided from my legs.

The XL was the most rewarding race I’ve every completed. Not because of the length, or time or prestige, but because it showed me. At 43 years old, with 2 kids, a wife, multiple jobs … I can do ANYTHING I set my mind to.

You only Have You

I’m not talking about support. I had so many people reaching out. It was incredible to have so many people reaching out throughout the 30 hours and offering messages. It may very well have gotten me through the race. But that isn’t what I’m talking out.

At the end of the day, it’s just you. You have to completely and utterly buy in to yourself. Your effort, your progress, and your ability to show up when it matters most. That can be intimidating and it’s easy to let doubt creep in.

We all play the “what if” game.

What if I get a flat?

What if my chain breaks?

What if I wreck?

But the truth is, none of that serves you.

What does serve you? Confidence. Trust. Belief in yourself as an athletes and human.

As you get closer to your own A race, remind yourself of what’s gone right. Think about the early mornings, the long miles, the pain you put yourself through. You did the work. You’ve got the receipts. Own it and buy the fuck in!

Fuel Like It Matters—Because It Does

Outside of fitness and health, fueling for this race was my biggest lever for success. I started planning my race nutrition weeks in advance. My goal was 90g of carbs and 1500mg of sodium per hour. I mapped every stop (6 in total) and at which mile, creating individualized Ziploc bags with 3,420g of carbs and 57,000mg of sodium. I poured 30 gels into five Hydrogel soft flasks to save space and avoid trash or fuss mid-race.

Does that sound psycho? Maybe. But it was absolutely necessary.

So start thinking through your own plan today: How many carbs and mg of sodium per hour? How will you get there? Practice it before race day. Solve GI issues in training, not mid-race. Nailing this means one less thing to worry about when it matters most.

Use Your Head. Don’t Get Emotional

No matter what race you’re doing—whether it’s a half marathon or Unbound XL—something’s going to go sideways. Maybe the swim feels off. Maybe your stomach flips. Maybe you miss a split you were counting on.

Whatever it is, don’t let that moment hijack your mindset.

Take a breath. Zoom out.

You’ve been through tough spots in training and you know how to handle it. Getting emotional or panicking won’t help. What will help is staying calm, solving the problem, and moving forward. And honestly? That rough patch might end up being what unlocks your best day yet.

Unbound Gravel XL was the biggest effort to date and I learned a lot so you don’t have to go through the same.

Remember. Love and live your life.

You too are capable of smashing your own impossible.

Stay moving. ✌️
Scott