Riding Up Grades

Photo by Gavin Gould

9.12.09 IL State Road Race Championships
Cat. 3 / 14th

The great Eddy Merckx once said, "Don't buy upgrades; Ride up grades." And that's exactly what we did this past weekend at the State Road Race Championships.

The last time I did a 50 mile road race I got dropped off the back 20 miles in and spent the remaining 30 miles daydreaming about what it might be like to still be in the race. And though I'm sure it built lots of character or whatever, I wasn't hoping for a repeat of that humbling experience. With a good bit of mileage and racing in my legs since then, I felt pretty confident that I could at least ride with the pack and maybe even mix it up in the uphill finish - if we stayed together. I was a bit anxious at the outset that a break might get away because as much as I'd love to be in it, I have enough self-awareness to know that me in a break would almost certainly end poorly (likely involving daydreaming again). And so, as the only represented member of my club and already feeling apprehensive about the distance, I was content to sit in and enjoy the ride. I would gladly let the big teams control the front and play out their strategies while I sit back like a newbie idiot trying to figure out how to eat my first Gu without getting it all over my gloves. Mission accomplished.

To my relief, it quickly became apparent that we were probably going to stay together. Save for a tricky section of climbing, the course was too fast and the pack too hungry to let anything escape. The mile-long stretch of climbs also turned out to be the best place to move up - as the only portion of the route that opened up to two lanes. My simple strategy was pretty straightforward: Move up on the climbs and conserve energy the other 9 miles. Resembling a spirited game of "Chutes and Ladders," the plan worked out nicely. I started the race at the back and by the final lap was sitting somewhere in the top 15 or 20. I knew positioning wouldn't necessarily make or break the race as the finishing stretch was wide open, but I didn't want to risk getting boxed in or end up in a wreck. Nevertheless, I was in perfect position to unleash my fury on the final climb and make everyone feel the pain. As I stood to stomp up the last hill on my way to sure victory though, the only one who felt the pain was me. Cramps shot like lightning through both legs as my body protested the past 50 miles of abuse. Left quad, right hamstring, both calves...I wasn't even sure which muscles were still available to get me up the hill. My slow motion sprint was a study in concentration as I focused all of my remaining energy on willing my legs to continue in circles to the line. Which they did, barely. I coasted slowly through the finish line standing straight up (super cool) in a final, desperate effort to keep my legs from seizing up completely and tipping over (not cool). Thoroughly and utterly destroyed - nearly as dead as the possum I dodged each time up the hill.

Despite my legs' non-compliance, it was truly a great race on a great course and provided a welcome contrast to the ill-controlled chaos (crits) that is the majority of our race offerings in this area. Just wait 'til next year - I'm going to pack an extra Gu. Then they will feel the pain...