The Ryan Hotel, beautiful downtown Wallace, Idaho. |
Race BDA (battle damage assessment)
Many a race, fight, or game have been lost prior to the start of said event. Thus was the case this year. Only a few weeks prior to race morning, I was convinced it was a lost cause. Having the Cache Century at the end of that week, I decided to let that be the "bell-weather" event. They day before Cache, the Huntsman jersey arrived. That weekend had me doing so serious soul searching. What I didn't do was evaluate all my assets and liabilities - requiem for any battle plan. A such.....well I let myself make several "fatal" mistakes. With those known liabilities in my head and not focusing on the remedy, I was doomed to be my own worst enemy.
The lead-up
The week prior to the race was less than ideal, but when is it ever otherwise? One long ride for confidence and a lot of time working on the bike. The plan was to get a couple dirt rides in prior to Friday, but everyone's schedule got into my way. The bike was giving me a few problems indexing, but I thought I had that figured out. Friday night went much later than planned, with a 04:00 alarm - like has happened too many times. Still, we were out the door, crew and all, in good time. Several last minute texts and emails on the drive to Logan kept my mind off the nerves, but maybe I should have been focusing on what was coming. Weather forecasts predicted warm temps, a lot of sun and little if any wind over in Star Valley. Confidence was certainly there, but looking back, it was a false sense of something. You know - that feeling of how this isn't gonna be as hard as you are making it seem. Boy, I was anything but prepared...........
The ride out, the chase and the blow-up
The group was large - nearly eighty overall in our starting pack. The ride through the rolling neutral was calm, but disorganized. When we turn out onto highway 91, a couple guys took off. Like...REALLY? That breakaway gapped the rest of us by a fairly short distance. It didn't make any sense. Just before Franklin (or so it seems), a breakaway from women's race group caught us. Two women just putting the hammer down. I mean, this is nuts! At the Preston turn off, another large group of women racers had caught us, causing a huge traffic jam just ahead of the turn up to the Riverdale climb. By this point, we had been pushing it pretty hard, but still comfortable. The motor-marshals had to hold us back, as there must of been around two-hundred riders at the intersection. Pushing up the two climbs prior to the quick drop into Riverdale, the leaders of our group decided to put the hurt on the rest of us. I chased pretty hard going over the top and felt like I was in a good position to close at the bottom. At the turn at SR36, I really had to push it, as they had lit the after-burners. After the first couple miles it was clear I was on my own. Thing is (that I didn't take into consideration) was a very large part of our group was behind me and in worse shape than I. By that time, I was solidly lost in my head. At MP 13 I felt defeated and gave into the desire to put my foot down - for the first time. Going over the false-summit at MP 17 I felt depleted in everyway possible. At the neutral feed zone I was completely out of water (which has never happened before). Stopping, I was nearly locked-up. I downed two bottles of electrolyte and water, filled up again and headed up and over the summit. The seventeen-miles down was the slowest I have ever experienced - or so I thought. By Ovid, I was convinced I was cooked and would be pulling the plug. By this time, most of the race had already passed my by - which has happened before. This time, it seemed like I was in the desert alone. At Montpelier, I told the crew I was done and took my helmet off. They tried all they could to convince me otherwise, but I was done - period. It was perhaps one of the hardest things I've had to do for some time, knowing that within 30 minutes I would be pissed and wanting to go back. I had been beaten by my own disgust and weakness.
Turns out, the wind through Star Valley was terrible - as in 12 -15 MPH direct headwinds most of the way. Here's the thing; I always get beat-up on that first climb. I struggle over Geneva, it always gives me trouble, with KoM and Salt River usually up in the air. I can usually turn the last 100 miles into my best of the day. But that was well out of my head when I gave up - flat out QUIT! When I got home, I docked my Garmin and looked at my stats to see how I was really doing. Turns out, I threw it out way too fast. I've had trouble getting my heartrate up all summer long, typically not getting above 157 BPM for only a couple rides (intervals). This time, I pegged 170 BPM and was fully anerobic for nearly a full 35-minutes (Zone 5). Worse yet, I was also fully in threshold (Zone 4) for well over 2-hours getting there. I was fully aerobic for just over 80-minutes on top of all that. Yep, I took the bait and got the crap kicked out of me as a result. In the end, I didn't have to pull the plug, I only needed to have planned for what to do rather than panic and whimper. (What a dumb-ass!)
The take -away
The positive is what I was able to do. I mean, 170 BPM? My cardiologist may have something to say about it, but I was impressed. The fact that I could push Zone 5 that long is also impressive. I mean.....it was all in my head and I knew it and certainly know it now. Sure, the bike was indexing like garbage, had an annoying creak in the crank, but seriously? I didn't have the posture fatigue that has plagued me on longer rides this year and my legs had the strength I didn't think they had. The illness that had beat me down just a mere couple weeks prior certainly didn't help. But I was under-trained, in that I didn't have the confidence to punch through and re-assess. Training is more than building up the body, but also training your mind to resist the desire to put a foot down. With all this, I know what needs to be fixed and am working on the methods to put it back together.
West Portal at the Taft Tunnel |
Set-backs required
Humility is an important ingredient to success. Sure, confidence is a must, but too much is dangerous. Well...I certainly wasn't totally over confident, but I wasn't truly humble either. That undeniable feeling of having experienced such a thing can work in your favor - if you let it. Will it work? Only time will tell, but I have experience to draw from if I can remember how it felt.
Resetting the System
Back to the Hiawatha for some easy riding and therapy |
Thirty-eight years with my better half. We decided to take the bikes back to Montana/Idaho to do the Hiawatha again. Conditions were a little cool, but we layered-up and used the right gear for an enjoyable 30-miles on some easy dirt. We stay at this little place in Wallace, Idaho called the Ryan Hotel. The town itself is right out of the 1930's and the Ryan is certainly part of that experience. It has become a peaceful retreat for us. A helluva long drive, but the S-XM radio fills the gaps when the conversation lags. This was out second time up there, from five years ago. A lot more riders on the trail for being the last weekend of the year than what we had encountered that first go-around. One thing I noticed were all the E-bikes. People younger than me using them to ride both ways. A lot of seniors (older than me) riding them, because they can. That made me take an inventory of where I am in that mix. Some of these people were likely fit at one time, to the point they could have easily cover this trail on a "gravity" and pedal bike. Made me wonder when will I be in that situation that I won't be able to really ride like I prefer to do. The cold truth is it will come for all of us someday. Until then, I'll do what I can to resist the inevitable. Hell.... I ain't that old.
Rain Ride
A little different look than what I had posted earlier this season from the same spot.... |
Rained hard last night and was still off and on this morning. Not too many years ago, I would push myself to ride in all the worst conditions. This morning, the coach in me took over and the drill was on - riding in the hard rain, with temps in the low to mid 40's along the way. The Drifter's (tires) aired down to about 20 PSI, conditions were ideal for a cold morning wake-up call. I dunno, maybe I'm really a dumb-ass, but I'm not that old. It was only 32 miles, but I did it in pretty good time and form. Frozen feet, hands and soaked to the bone - I intentionally decided against full cold-weather gear. Shorts, woolies (socks), an ear-protector and thin gloves. No helmet-cover, no leg-warmers, no shoe-covers - only lite-layers and a Gore shell up top. Damn miserable - but I loved every minute of it! This is what the of-season needs to look like - until my visit to the electro-physiologist in October.... I have a hunch they may want to take me out of commission for a couple weeks. A problem for future me. Until then, I'll act my age and continue doing stupid things - because I can.
The fate of us all, Doolin-Dalton
At some point time will catch us all. We have to decide when to give it up, or go down swinging. Along the way, the spectators will watch, as though it will never happen to them. Eventually it catches all of us. I'm not putting them shootin'-irons down quite yet. I have a point to prove....
"The stage was set...." Will there be any tomorrow?
Pulling for Reed! Making it hurst when I can....
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