Hey, it is human nature to hurt ourselves so it is perfect to go up a steep road with no oxygen! I had never raced it before, but that is my strategy, as maybe if I had known how tough it was, then I would have been a bit more conservative. However, I did do some research and planning. Knowing the altitude factor, I began preparation by training four times a week in the high mountain passes near Durango, Colorado. I trained up and down passes such as Coal Bank, Molas, and Red Mountain Pass. At night, I would sleep close to the altitude of Mt. Evans using my CAT altitude tent. They have really perfected these things as both of us were never uncomfortable at night.

I also studied past races up Mt. Evans. I wanted to see how the race played out according to weather, number of top-level competitors, and team strategy. I had found out that when the record was set, Coors Light drilled it as a team. This was because of the grade at the bottom of the climb (the first 9 miles) is close to flat.

So, I got my own team. Who? Well, first I thought about bringing some Fassa guys over. But, then I thought clearly Ferretti would not buy it, sending a team over for a two-hour race. See, he is always crunching numbers. "$5,000 in plan tickets... two hours of racing... that is basically $2,500 per hour... hmmmm... no."

I asked around FLC cycling for some guys. Everyone had there own goals at the race, so it didn't seem appealing to them to sacrifice themselves for 20 minutes and then drop out. My train idea looked bleak until my wing-man (training partner, website designer, squawk partner, and tequilas chicken burrito destroyer), Mike Wilk, stepped forward. Sure, it was only one guy, but this is not one ordinary guy. I like to call him my "army of one"; sort of the Durango version of Eric Wohlberg. Tougher then nails, strong in any weather condition (rain, snow, heat, you name it), and equipped with gargs (large muscular structures in place of calves).

So, now that I did my training, homework, and found my team, I was ready to take on the race record, right?

Well, wrong. There were two major obstacles I would have to overcome. The first one was the winter storm conditions on the mountain that day, and the second was a stiff line-up of competition. Mother nature had decided to throw a curveball at the race with 44 degree temps (F) at the bottom and sub-30 at the top. Add in zero visibility, rain with occasional flurries, a bit of wind, and to say the least, the conditions sucked (sorry, Mike Creed said I am too positive in my journals and need to be a bit more negative... this is my effort Mike).

Then I had the competition. Scott Moninger was on great form and is always the man to beat. There is no one better in any climbing, or altitude race, or in a race with climbing at altitude. He had won countless races this year and for sure was the man to watch. In addition to Scott, the dynamic climbing duo of Drew Miller and Scott Price was on hand. Drew is one force to reckon with anytime to the road goes uphill! Mike Creed, just off his "blood, sweat, and piss" dramatic victory at the Cascade Classic, was also on hand to make matters very difficult for me.

The race started and Wilk drilled it at the front. He did a great job, but doing the job of eight is never easy. Just as Wilk tired, Creed threw in a vicious attack. Everyone sat up and Creed would get a good gap. As the climb kicked up, I knew I had to go as the pace had been a bit too slow on the flat section and because of the weather conditions, I needed to give it 100 percent if I wanted this record. So I did, in fact I gave it 110 percent.

I was also very motivated to be racing in the "home" country and wanted this record very badly. When I crossed the line I saw 1:41:10. I couldn't believe it, not after the day that I went through. I was very happy to say the least, but had very little time to celebrate as I had to catch a plane to Portugal in five hours.