A momentous day...
It was a ride called the Spring Classic and it went from a town a
little north of boston, and did a loop up into New Hampshire on a
rolling hill route. It was great, spectacular and very wet. I wasn't
even sure if I was going to go but I managed to drag myself out of bed
at 6am and get all my gear into the car, fill up on gas and get there
by around 7:10. Signed up, paid the entry fee, grabbed a little bite
to eat, had my bike glanced over by a mechanic who gave it the look of
death, one which I'm coming to respect from most professional eyes, but
hey, she still runs. I actually saw one of my coworkers, Irene, from
the Alzheimer's Assoc. who was the one who convinced me to do the
Ironman this year and she was looking well except for I guess she had
an injury to her glutes that has kept her from training as hard as
she's wanted. I'm pretty sure she's still training harder than me.
Anyway, I'm chatting with her when they announce the groups to go out,
and the 23-25 mile an hour group leaves without me, good riddance, and
I let the 20-22 mph group take off as well. I decide to head out with
the 18-20 mph group and bid adieu to Irene as she gives me the "good
riddance" glance. Naturally our group catches up with the 20-22 mph
group at the first light and we never broke apart again. Which meant
the pace was dictated by the faster elements of that group, a pace
which I was surprisingly able to manage ok, probably because I was
drafting. But with somewhere between 30 and 40 of us out there,
basically everybody was drafting. The first 30 miles flew by and when
the first rest stop arrived at mile 46 I was a little tired from not
hydrating or eating well (I had one sip of my honey bottle - yes I
drink it straight - and maybe a quarter of my water bottle, definitely
doing a bad job) but there were all kinds of deliciousness to be had at
the waterstop so I filled up there as best as possible.
Some of the frontrunners, me included by this point, had started
pushing the pace around mile 40 and were eager to get back on the road
so after about 5-10 minutes we took off again. This time I think some
of the tired ones had gotten into the front and were barely moving so a
couple fellows and myself got out on the front of the train and started
pushing the pace again. While the group stayed together, it was only
about five of us who were driving the pace, I kind of felt like Team
Postal when they wanted to kill off the slower teams during the Tour
de France. Every time I looked back, the "peloton" was stretched out
as we broke into an average of 22-23 mph on the straights. I'm just
glad I was at the front because I hate having to deal with the traffic
as people slow down and manuevar for space and safety farther back in
the group, up near the front people just push and you simply have to be
careful you don't get too close (3 inches is too close) to the person
in front of you's back wheel. Anyway, we're following this river and
come to a couple good hills, the first steep ones since about mile 30,
and the other couple leaders and I continue to push the pace up the
hill. Most of the group manages to follow us, but I can hear the heavy
breathes and realize most of them are probably hurting a little bit. I
should have taken the time to eat something here but idiot that I am...
we continue along this beautiful river road, the rain starting up a
little and the road becoming more saturated so the roaster tails of
water flicking up from tires, that before were minor annoyances, soon
became barriers to visibility. And you could forget about being dry.
Period. I'd been squee-geeing water off my glasses for a while, but
now my gloves were too wet to do any good so I just settled for trying
to make out brightly colored indistinct shapes.
We finally came across a pretty big hill, maybe a couple hundred feet
long and almost straight up. I was about fourth in line after just
putting in my pull with the other major leader right in front of me.
Soon he starts slowing down, I found out later he slipped on a piece of
rubber and lost his rythym, and the front two begin pulling away, I'm
sitting here debating whether to break past him or let him pull me up
the hill when two guys in matching uniforms pull up next to us and
smoothly pass the both of us. Turns out they had a break down earlier
and they were actually from the 23-25 group. Decision made, I hop
around my buddy's back wheel and attach myself to this mini-train and
we all fly up the hill, quickly catching the original two breakaways
and pulling them into tow. Now its just 5 of us and once we get to the
top of that hill, the normal rest and reprieve doesn't show up and we
begin flying! Slow pulls were at 22-23 mph and the pace began to wear
at my endurance. Luckily, the rest stop at 76 popped up in no time and
I was able to stuff some food down the now dry and empty gullet. This
time I could have used a little longer stop but the two matching riders
pulled out almost as soon as we arrived.
This final leg of the ride was pretty tough, the rain coming down in
torrents, hills around every corner and a seeping fatigue starting to
make me count every mile. I hang in with these time travelers from the
Spanish Inquisition and make it to about mile 95, and the last hill,
where I broke, and fell off the 20mph pace, falling to about 17 before
evening out around 19 on the flats. I dragged myself in, grabbed some
food, talked to some of the guys I rode with and tried to stay awake on
my way home. Man what a day.
Doing things differently, I need a new way to access the honey, it was
delicious, but too hard to get to in my back pocket and too hard to
suck out. I need something that sucks out easier and I need to be able
to place it somewhere at the front of my bike. I'll finagle
something. I also need to rearrange the setup on my bike so I can add
another water bottle and drink more on the ride. I'm glad we went out
easy, and I'm also glad I got on the fast train and pushed the pace, it
felt great.
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