If you don't already know I am not sponsored by any company or bike shop for the free shwag or bike discounts. I ride for the First Descents cancer charity to try, however small it may be, to raise awareness for the organization. The one sentence description of FD is that it is a one week camp for young adults with cancer that helps them learn through extreme adventure (whitewater kayaking) that they are not as fragile as cancer may make them believe, giving them a fresh outlook on life while also developing a strong support group.
It's now about one week prior to the Leadville 100. I haven't trained as hard as prior years. Not really training much at all. But over the past couple of months, through races and group rides, I've picked up the intensity and I'm feeling like I'm in pretty good shape. Normally I'd start my taper by now, but it was hard to turn down the Cranky Monkey race at Shaeffer Farms today, as it's practically in my back yard and one last chance to increase my fitness for Leadville. There is also room for 5 spots on the podium so there's also a better chance for the mental encouragement a podium can do for me.
As I'm standing around the registration area, this girl turns to me and says, "Thanks for racing for First Descents. I just got back from camp and had an AMAZING experience!"
Wow! First Descents has come a long way from its grass-roots beginning. But to be recognized, and THANKED by someone who has benefited from First Descents is all of the validation I need.
I line up for the race start a few rows behind the front. At the start I have a harder time than I expected to get to the front. I hoped to be at least third place when I hit the singletrack, but I settle in around 5th place, and I'm feeling the effort already. Not a bad start, but I'm already realizing this race is going to be tougher than I anticipated.
Fast forward to an hour into the race. The course is fast and twisty with just enough climbing to keep your heart pumping and prevent any sort of recovery. The race is longer that I'm used to this season and I'm falling back on my pace. A guy who I passed earlier overtakes me. This could be the first of many more to overtake me if I can't pick it up. Short term plan: keep right on top of this guy and hope I can mentally and physically break him.
So what do I use black magic for this? No, it's possible to really break someone. It is VERY fatiguing having someone 'nipping at your heels' in a race. Being right on someone's wheel actually makes him ride faster, but it also pushes a racer way out of his comfort zone, ultimately weakening him, making him vulnerable to 'blowing up' or crashing, literally. So, my goal is to get this guy way out of his comfort zone, get him weak, and then just maybe if I'm not just as weak, find the energy on a climb to pass him with enough drive and force so that he succumbs to the pain and gives up. It's a longshot, but having a strategy helps.
Unfortunately, I'm having trouble gaining on him. He briefly goes in and out of sight around corners. I don't really know what position i'm in, but I have this feeling... this knowledge... that this rider is the difference between me being on the podium or not. Whatever... My legs are fried. I'm hurting. Bonking maybe? Maybe I should just relax, be satisfied that I'm near the front, just hold my position, and call it a day. Yeah, that's what I'll do. My legs are screaming. Then I start thinking. If I can make that podium, I can ask Leanna (remember.. First Descents Girl I met earlier) to stand next to me in the picture and send it off to the FD crew in Colorado. How friggin awesome would that be?! The difference between that rider in front of me, who I KNOW I'm better than, is 50 feet. 50 feet is the difference between Leanna on that podium with me or me leaving the race feeling completely defeated and demoralized. Now I've got something really worth fighting for. This is an opportunity I am NOT going to let slip by.
I drive up a small hill, and I gain on the rider. I'm realizing that he is gaining distance on me on the twisty technicals, but I'm stronger on the climbs. There are not many climbs, so the course favors the technically inclined. Adjustment of strategy. Keep as close as I can. On every hill I have to really hammer it, not just to gain some ground, but gain more ground than he can gain on the twisties. The next hill comes and I drive hard, ignoring all of the pain as I pass him. He's now right on my heels. I will not be able to keep this pace. I need to drive forward enough to shake him. The largest hill of the race soon approaches, and I take every ounce of energy I have to drive forward and sprint up the hill. It can't be any sprint. It's got to be authoritative. I have to gain so much distance on him that he mentally convinces himself that I'm too strong to catch. The strategy works. I'm far enough ahead that he cannot notice how weak I feel.
But wait. Because of the hard effort, now I see another rider ahead. He's going too fast. Too fast. I keep him in sight, but I've already convinced myself that his pace is too strong and I will not have the energy to attack. Wait. What if I'm not in fifth. What if the guy in front of me is fifth? So close to the end. I fought way too hard to give up now. I need that picture!
We begin up a twisty hill and as I round the corner I notice I've made up half the distance to him. He's really weakened from the hour thirty minute effort thus far, and he doesn't yet realize that I'm behind him. He's just trying to maintain his pace, praying that anyone behind him is just as weak and won't try to overtake him. I calculate that if I can dig deep enough and give it the same effort I did up the last hill, I can catch this guy by the top of the hill with enough force to drive it all the way to the finish, less than five minutes away.
I push it hard. I can feel how stunned he is as I pass, and it takes him several seconds to evaluate what just occurred. He is so angered by the fact that he's let himself be overtaken so close to the finish that he decides to fight to the finish. I can hear the sound of the out-of-the-saddle chain grinding occurring behind me. While perhaps a most memorable cycling moment, this is my most dreaded. I only have so many fights in me. And this guy wants to tour-de-france-style sprint it to the finish. We round a corner and the finish line comes into sight. We're in a grassy clearing with 50 yards to go. I glance back and he's out of his saddle in a full sprint. I physically do not have the energy to get out of my saddle. My engine is sputtering trying to rotate the pedals with the little bit of fumes I have left. My legs are burning. My heart is exploding. He is gaining on me. Can I make it there before he reaches me? I hear the cheering. The spectators are yelling for the most exciting finish they've seen yet. He's now alongside me. His wheel lines up exactly with my wheel and we cross at exactly the same time. I let my bike fall over and I roll onto my back (in a patch of poison ivy I learn later), trying to gain my breath back. A race staffer asks if I need medical help. Nope, I'm doing just great.
So, this one's for you, Leanna!
(Note: My race finish was ruled a tie for 4th place, thus there is no 5th place finisher)
If you're interested in donating to First Descents, you can visit my donation page.
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